What I know of farming: a series of brief and plain expositions of practical agriculture as an art based upon science — Themes and Context

A Practical Man's View of Science

Greeley insists that the farmer needs a grounding in geology and chemistry, which he calls “the natural bases of a sound, practical knowledge of things.” He criticizes common schools for failing to teach these subjects, arguing that understanding soil composition and the laws of vegetable growth is more urgent than higher mathematics or languages. His tone is direct: “a knowledge of these sciences is among the most urgent of his life-long needs.” He proposes that a digest of geological and chemical principles should form the highest reader in every rural school, leaving out variable recipes for planting. This emphasis on applied science over rote instruction reflects his belief that the farmer’s intellect must work in concert with his hands.

Irrigation as a Transformative Practice

In several chapters, Greeley returns to irrigation as a neglected opportunity. He claims that on the upper Hudson, Connecticut, and Ammonoosuc rivers, “100 faithful days' work providing for irrigation would have given 100 bushels of grain, or 10 tuns of hay additional this year.” He estimates the ongoing cost at only two days’ work per year thereafter. His appeal is direct: “Farmers, but above all farmers' sons, think of these things.” The repeated call to younger generations suggests a hope that new methods will be adopted where older farmers resist change. Greeley does not provide detailed engineering instructions in these excerpts, but his numbers and locations give the advice a concrete, regional character.

The Pioneer's Ordeal and the Value of Education

Greeley sketches a vivid portrait of a poor man hewing a farm from the forest with only an ax and five dollars. He warns that without education, fifteen years of hard labor may yield only a house and forty acres. But a well-educated man might shorten that to ten years. The danger, he writes, is that a man who “fancy hard work beneath him” will fail and return to town “more needy and seedy than when he set forth.” This passage ties intellectual preparation directly to economic survival on the frontier. Greeley insists that a farmer who buys on credit and tries to live by his wits alone is unlikely to succeed; instead, hand and brain must work together.

Structure and Scope of the Work

The table of contents lists fifty-two chapters, ranging from “Will Farming Pay?” to “Summing Up,” with topics as varied as draining, plowing, fertilizers, insects, fruit trees, sheep, fences, steam power, co-operation, and rural depopulation. The chapters are short—often five to seven pages—and the prose is plain, as promised in the subtitle. Greeley’s dedication to the steam-plow inventor and his repeated focus on irrigation and mechanization indicate a forward-looking bent, yet he also includes traditional subjects like hay-making and apple trees. The excerpts show a writer who moves quickly from practical advice to broader social commentary, always urging farmers to adopt science and innovation.

Direct Address and Rhetorical Style

Greeley frequently uses second-person address and rhetorical questions to engage his reader. In the irrigation passage, he commands “think of these things.” In the chapter on intellect, he warns that a man who begins by fancying hard work beneath him “is very likely to come out at the little end of the horn.” This colloquial, almost proverbial language gives the text a conversational feel. He also employs concrete imagery: the pioneer with an ax over his shoulder, the farmer who buys on credit, the steam plow that pulverizes soil. These details ground his arguments in recognizable experience, even when he is advocating for scientific education or new technology.

Greeley’s manual rewards a reader who moves between chapters selectively, following specific interests in irrigation, soil science, or farm economics. The excerpts suggest that his strongest arguments are those where he combines a concrete observation—a river that could irrigate, a school that fails to teach geology—with a direct appeal to the farmer’s self-interest. Readers should note that Greeley often states his opinions as settled facts, and his numbers (such as the cost of irrigation) are offered without citation. The book is best read as a period document of agricultural reform, reflecting the tensions between tradition and innovation in post-Civil War America.

I keep thinking about that old Greeley manual, the way he wrote to farmers’ sons like he trusted their minds completely. It made me remember another quiet little book I stumbled on later. There’s a strange tenderness in Farming with Dynamite: A Few Hints to Farmers — Edition Insights, almost like a whisper about the land’s hidden stubbornness. It lingered in me the same way, softly.