CHAPTERS IN RURAL PROGRESS

THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PRESSCHICAGO, ILLINOIS

Agents

THE BAKER & TAYLOR COMPANYNEW YORK

THE CUNNINGHAM, CURTISS & WELCH COMPANYLOS ANGELES

THE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESSLONDON AND EDINBURGH

THE MARUZEN-KABUSHIKI-KAISHATOKYO, OSAKA, KYOTO, FUKUOKA, SENDAI

THE MISSION BOOK COMPANYSHANGHAI

KARL W. HIERSEMANNLEIPZIG

CHAPTERS IN RURAL PROGRESS

BY

KENYON L. BUTTERFIELD

_President of the Massachusetts Agricultural College_

[Illustration: Publisher's logo]

THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PRESSCHICAGO, ILLINOIS

COPYRIGHT 1907 BYTHE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO

All Rights Reserved

Published February 1908Second Impression June 1909Third Impression May 1911Fourth Impression February 1913Fifth Impression October 1916

Composed and Printed ByThe University of Chicago PressChicago, Illinois, U. S. A. 

 TO MY FATHER IRA HOWARD BUTTERFIELD

 WHOSE CONSTANT CONCERN FOR RURAL WELFARE AND LIFE-LONG SERVICE TO RURAL INTERESTS HAVE BEEN ONE OF THE CHIEF INCENTIVES TO THE STUDIES LYING BEHIND THIS BOOK

PREFACE

This book does not offer a complete analysis of the rural problem; butattempts, in general, to present some of the more significant phases ofthat problem, and, in particular, to describe some of the agencies atwork in solving it. Several of the chapters were originally magazinearticles, and, though all have been revised and in some cases entirelyrewritten, they have the limitations of such articles. Other chaptersconsist of more formal addresses. Necessarily there will be found somelack of uniformity in style and in method of presentation, andoccasional duplication of argument or statement. 

For permission to use articles, in whole or in part, I have to thank theeditors of the _Chautauquan_, _Arena_, _Forum_, _Review of Reviews_, _Popular Science Monthly_, _Michigan Alumnus_, _New England Farmer_, _Cornell Countryman_; also Professor L. R. Taft, superintendent ofFarmers' Institutes in Michigan, and the officers of the American CivicAssociation. Two chapters comprise material heretofore unpublished. 

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER PAGE

 I. The Study of Rural Life 3

 II. The Problems of Progress 11

THE OUTLOOK

III. The Expansion of Farm Life 45

 IV. The New Farmer 53

 V. Culture from the Corn-Lot 66

AGENCIES OF PROGRESS

 VI. Education for the Farmer 77

 VII. Farmers' Institutes 92

VIII. The Hesperia Movement 104

 IX. The Rural School and the Community 121

 X. The Grange 136

 XI. Opportunities for Farm Women 162

 XII. The Country Church and Progress 170

XIII. A Summary of Recent Progress 183

FORWARD STEPS

 XIV. The Social Side of the Farm Question 199

 XV. The Needs of New England Agriculture 204

 XVI. An Untilled Field in American Education 216

XVII. Federation for Rural Progress 233

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER I

THE STUDY OF RURAL LIFE

The American farm problem, particularly its sociological aspect, has notas yet had the attention that it deserves from students. Much less havethe questions that concern rural social advancement found the popularmind; in truth, the general city public has not been deeply interestedin the farmer. 

But there seem to be recent indications that the sentiment is changing. The heated discussions in New England about Mr. Hartt's interestingclinic over a decadent hill-town, the suggestive fast-day proclamationof Governor Rollins of New Hampshire a few years ago, the marvelousdevelopment of agricultural education, the renewed study of the ruralschool, the widespread and growing delight in country life, have allaroused an interest in and presage a new attention to rural conditions. This is well. The sociologist can hardly afford to omit the ruralclasses from the scope of his study, especially if he desires toinvestigate the practical phases of his subject. Moreover, no one withintelligent notions of affairs should be ignorant of the forces thatcontrol rural life. 

In view of this apparent change in the attitude of people toward thefarm problem, it may not be idle to suggest some possible errors thatshould be avoided when we are thinking of rural society. The studentwill doubtless approach his problem fortified against misconceptions--heprobably has thoughtfully established his view-point. But the averageperson in the city is likely to call up the image of his ancestral homeof a generation ago, if he were born in the country, or, if not, to drawupon his observations made on a summer vacation or on casual businesstrips into the interior. Or he takes his picture from _Shore Acres_ andthe _Old Homestead_. In any case it is not improbable that the image maybe faulty and as a consequence his appreciation of present conditionswholly inadequate. Let us consider some of these possible sources ofmisconception. 

In the first place it is not fair to compare country life as a wholewith the best city conditions. This is often done. The observer usuallyhas education, culture, leisure, the experience of travel, more or lesswealth; his acquaintance is mostly with people of like attainments. When he fails to find a rural environment that corresponds in somedegree to his own and that of his friends, he is quick to conclude thatthe country has nothing to offer him, that only the city ministers tothe higher wants of man. He forgets that he is one of a thousand in thecity, and does not represent average city life. He fails to compare theaverage country conditions with the average city conditions, manifestlythe only fair basis for comparison. Or he may err still more grievously. He may set opposite each other the worst country conditions and thebetter city conditions. He ought in all justice to balance country slumwith city slum; and certainly so if he insists on trying to findpalaces, great libraries, eloquent preachers, theaters, and rapidtransit in each rural community. City life goes to extremes; countrylife, while varied, is more even. In the country there is little oflarge wealth, luxury, and ease; little also of extreme poverty, reekingcrime, unutterable filth, moral sewage. Farmers are essentially a middleclass and no comparison is fair that does not keep this fact ever inmind. 

We sometimes hear the expression, "Country life is so barren--that to meis its most discouraging aspect. " Much country life is truly barren;but much more of it is so only relatively and not essentially. We mustadmit that civilization is at least partially veneer; polish doeswonders for the appearance of folks as well as of furniture. But whilethe beauty of "heart of oak" is enhanced by its "finish, " its utility isnot destroyed by a failure to polish it. Now, much of the so-calledbarrenness of country life is the oak minus the polish. We come toregard polish as essential; it is largely relative. And not only may weapply the wrong standard to the situation, but our eyes may deceive us. To the uninitiated a clod of dry earth is the most unpromising ofobjects--it is cousin to the stone, and the type of barrenness. But tothe elect it is pregnant with the possibilities of seed-time andharvest, of a full fruitage, of abundance and content for man and beast. And there is many a farm home, plain to an extreme, devoid of theveneer, a home that to the man of the town seems lacking in all thethings that season life, but a home which virtue, intelligence, thrift, and courage transform into a garden of roses and a type of heaven. I donot justify neglect of the finer material things of life, nor plead fordrab and homespun as passports to the courts of excellence; but I insistthat the plainness, simple living, absence of luxury, lack of polishthat may be met with in the country, do not necessarily accompany acondition barren of the essentials of the higher life. 

Sometimes rural communities are ridiculed because of the trivial natureof their gossip, interests, and ambitions. There may be some justice inthe criticism, though the situation is pathetic rather than humorous. But is the charge wholly just? In comparing country with town we arecomparing two environments; necessarily, therefore, objects of gossip, interests, and ambitions differ therein. We expect that. It is nocriticism to assert that fact. The test is not that of an existingdifference, but of an essential quality. Is not Ben Bolt's new top buggyas legitimate a topic for discussion as is Arthur John Smythe's newautomobile? Does not the price of wheat mean as much to the hard-workinggrower as to the broker who may never see a grain of it? May not thegrove at Turtle Lake yield as keen enjoyment as do the continentalforests? Is the ambition to own a fine farm more ignoble than the desireto own shares in a copper mine? It really does not matter so much whatone gossips about or what one's delights are or what the carving of therungs on ambition's ladder; the vital question is the effect of thesethings on character. Do they stunt or encourage the inner life? It mustbe admitted that country people do not always accept their environingopportunities for enjoying the higher life of mind and heart. But dothey differ in this respect from their cousins of the town?

We must remember, too, that this is a large country, and that a study ofrural conditions in a certain community, township, county, state, orsection may not give us the correct basis upon which to determine theagricultural status of the country. 

Nor must we make the mistake of confusing conservatism and decadence. That the city will in many particulars always progress more rapidly thanthe country is inevitable. But speed is not the ultimate criterion of afull life. Again must we apply the test whether the gain is relative oressential. Telephones, free mail delivery, electric car lines, operas, great libraries, cathedrals--all come to the city first, some of themsolely to the city. The country cannot hope to be other than inherentlyconservative as regards such institutions. But may there not be foundsuch adaptations of or substitutes for these institutions as shall notonly preserve the rural community from decadence, but, indeed, build itup into strength, beauty, and purity?

Comparative lack of identical resources need not mean poverty ofattainment. Let us agree that relatively the country will lag behind thetown. Is the country continually gaining in those things that arefundamentally important and that minister to its best life? is thekernal question. 

Perhaps the most common error in studying rural conditions is thefailure to distinguish the vital difference between the urban problemand the rural problem. _Sociologically the city problem is that ofcongestion; the rural problem is that of isolation. _ The socialconditions of country and city are wholly different. Institutions thatsucceed in alleviating social disorders in the town may or may notsucceed in the country--in any event they must be adapted to countryneeds. This applies to organizations, schools, libraries, socialsettlements. And the adaptation must be one not only of form but ofspirit. In other words, the farm problem is a peculiar problem, demanding special study, a new point of view, and sometimes uniqueinstitutions. 

Those accustomed to large cities make a pretty broad classification of"country. " A town of five thousand people is to them "country. " But itis not country. The problem of the village and the small town is not therural problem, take it the nation over. The smaller the town, the morenearly it approaches to rural conditions, but its essential problem isnot that of the farm. 

And, finally, let no one suppose that philanthropy is the chief medicinefor the social ill-health of the country. The intelligent student whopossesses the true spirit of helpfulness may find in the rural problemample scope for both his brain and his heart. But he will make afundamental and irreparable error if he starts out with the notion thatpity, charity, and direct gifts will win the day. You may flatter theAmerican farmer; you cannot patronize him. He demands and needs, notphilanthropy, but simple justice, equal opportunity, and betterfacilities for education. He is neither slave nor pauper. 

To conclude: There is a farm problem, and it is worth solving. But itdiffers from the city problem. And if, as is to be hoped, the recentlyrenewed interest in this question is to be permanent, we trust thatthose who desire to make it a special study, as well as those whoseinterest in it is general and widely human, may from the start avoid theerrors that are likely to obscure rural conditions when viewed throughcity eyes. 

CHAPTER II

THE PROBLEMS OF PROGRESS[1]

It is impossible to acquire a keen and permanent interest in the ruralproblem unless one first of all is cognizant of its significance. Andlack of knowledge at this point may in part account for the fact alreadyalluded to that in America the farm problem has not been adequatelystudied. So stupendous has been the development of our manufacturingindustries, so marvelous the growth of our urban population, so pressingthe questions raised by modern city life, that the social and economicinterests of the American farmer have, as a rule, received minorconsideration. We are impressed with the rise of cities like Chicago, forgetting for the moment that half of the American people still liveunder rural conditions. We are perplexed by the labor wars that arewaged about us, for the time unmindful that one-third of the workers ofthis country make their living immediately from the soil. We areastounded, and perhaps alarmed, at the great centralization of capital, possibly not realizing that the capital invested in agriculture in theUnited States nearly equals the combined capital invested in themanufacturing and railway industries. But if we pause to consider thescope and nature of the economic and social interests involved, wecannot avoid the conclusion that the farm problem is worthy of seriousthought from students of our national welfare. 

We are aware that agriculture does not hold the same relative rank amongour industries that it did in former years, and that our city populationhas increased far more rapidly than has our rural population. We do notignore the fact that urban industries are developing more rapidly thanis agriculture, nor deny the seriousness of the actual depletion ofrural population, and even of community decadence, in some portions ofthe Union. But these facts merely add to the importance of the farmquestion. And it should not be forgotten that there has been a large andconstant growth both of our agricultural wealth and of our ruralpopulation. During the last half-century there was a gain of 500 percent. In the value of farm property, while the non-urban populationincreased 250 per cent. Agriculture has been one of the chief elementsof America's industrial greatness, it is still our dominant economicinterest, and it will long remain at least a leading industry. Thepeople of the farm have furnished a sturdy citizenship and have been theprimary source of much of our best leadership in political, business, and professional life. For an indefinite future, a large proportion ofthe American people will continue to live in a rural environment. 

WHAT IS THE FARM PROBLEM?

Current agricultural discussion would lead us to think that the farmproblem is largely one of technique. The possibilities of theagricultural industry, in the light of applied science, emphasize theneed of the farmer for more complete knowledge of soil and plant andanimal, and for increased proficiency in utilizing this knowledge tosecure greater production at less cost. This is a fundamental need. Itlies at the basis of success in farming. But it is not the farm problem. 

Business skill must be added, business methods enforced. The farmer mustbe not only a more skilful produce-grower, but also a keenerproduce-seller. But the moment we enter the realm of the market we stepoutside the individualistic aspect of the problem as embodied in thecurrent doctrine of technical agricultural teaching, and are forced toconsider the social aspect as emphasized, first of all, in the economiccategory of price. Here we find many factors--transportation cost, general market conditions at home and abroad, the status of otherindustries, and even legislative activities. The farm problem becomes anindustrial question, not solely one of technical and business skill. Moreover, the problem is one of a successful industry as a whole, notmerely the personal successes of even a respectable number of individualfarmers. The farming class must progress as a unit. 

But have we yet reached the heart of the question? Is the farm problemone of technique plus business skill, plus these broad economicconsiderations? Is it not perfectly possible that agriculture as anindustry may remain in a fairly satisfactory condition, and yet thefarming class fail to maintain its status in the general social order?Is it not, for instance, quite within the bounds of probability toimagine a good degree of economic strength in the agricultural industryexisting side by side with either a peasant régime or alandlord-and-tenant system? Yet would we expect from either system thesame social fruitage that has been harvested from our American yeomanry?

We conclude, then, that _the farm problem consists in maintaining uponour farms a class of people who have succeeded in procuring forthemselves the highest possible class status, not only in theindustrial, but in the political and the social order--a relativestatus, moreover, that is measured by the demands of American ideals. _The farm problem thus connects itself with the whole question ofdemocratic civilization. This is not mere platitude. For we cannotproperly judge the significance and the relation of the differentindustrial activities of our farmers, and especially the value of thevarious social agencies for rural betterment, except by the standard ofclass status. It is here that we seem to find the only satisfactoryphilosophy of rural progress. 

We would not for a moment discredit the fundamental importance ofmovements that have for their purpose the improved technical skill ofour farmers, better business management of the farm, and wiser study andcontrol of market conditions. Indeed, we would call attention to thefact that social institutions are absolutely necessary means of securingthese essential factors of industrial success. In the solution of thefarm problem we must deliberately invoke the influence of quickenedmeans of communication, of co-operation among farmers, of various meansof education, and possibly even of religious institutions, to stimulateand direct industrial activity. What needs present emphasis is the factthat there is a definite, real, social end to be held in view as thegoal of rural endeavor. The highest possible social status for thefarming class is that end. 

We may now, as briefly as possible, describe some of the difficultiesthat lie in the path of the farmers in their ambition to attain greaterclass efficiency and larger class influence, and some of the means athand for minimizing the difficulties. A complete discussion of the farmproblem should, of course, include thorough consideration of thetechnical, the business, and the economic questions implied by thestruggle for industrial success; for industrial success is prerequisiteto the achievement of the greatest social power of the farming class. But we shall consider only the social aspects of the problem. 

RURAL ISOLATION

Perhaps the one great underlying social difficulty among Americanfarmers is their comparatively isolated mode of life. The farmer'sfamily is isolated from other families. A small city of perhaps twentythousand population will contain from four hundred to six hundredfamilies per square mile, whereas a typical agricultural community in aprosperous agricultural state will hardly average more than ten familiesper square mile. The farming class is isolated from other classes. Farmers, of course, mingle considerably in a business and political waywith the men of their trading town and county seat; but, broadlyspeaking, farmers do not associate freely with people living under urbanconditions and possessing other than the rural point of view. It wouldbe venturesome to suggest very definite generalizations with respect tothe precise influence of these conditions, because, so far as the writeris aware, the psychology of isolation has not been worked out. But twoor three conclusions seem to be admissible, and for that matter rathergenerally accepted. 

The well-known conservatism of the farming class is doubtless largelydue to class isolation. Habits, ideas, traditions, and ideals have longlife in the rural community. Changes come slowly. There is a tendency totread the well-worn paths. The farmer does not easily keep in touch withrapid modern development, unless the movements or methods directlyaffect him. Physical agencies which improve social conditions, such aselectric lights, telephones, and pavements, come to the city first. Theatmosphere of the country speaks peace and quiet. Nature's routine ofsunshine and storm, of summer and winter, encourages routine andrepetition in the man who works with her. 

A complement of this rural conservatism, which at first thought seems aparadox, but which probably grows out of these same conditions ofisolation, is the intense radicalism of a rural community when once itbreaks away from its moorings. Many farmers are unduly suspicious ofothers' motives; yet the same people often succumb to the wiles of thecharlatan, whether medical or political. Farmers are usuallyconservative in politics and intensely loyal to party; but the Populistmovement indicates the tendency to extremes when the old allegiance isleft behind. Old methods of farming may be found alongsideill-considered attempts to raise new crops or to utilize untriedmachines. 

Other effects of rural isolation are seen in a class provincialism thatis hard to eradicate, and in the development of minds less alert toseize business advantages and less far-sighted than are developed by theintense industrial life of the town. There is time to brood over wrongs, real and imaginary. Personal prejudices often grow to be rank andcoarse-fibered. Neighborhood feuds are not uncommon and are oftenvirulent. Leadership is made difficult and sometimes impossible. It iseasy to fall into personal habits that may mark off the farmer fromother classes of similar intelligence, and that bar him from hisrightful social place. 

It would, however, be distinctly unfair to the farm community if we didnot emphasize some of the advantages that grow out of the rural mode oflife. Farmers have time to think, and the typical American farmer is aman who has thought much and often deeply. A spirit of sturdyindependence is generated, and freedom of will and of action isencouraged. Family life is nowhere so educative as in the country. Thewhole family co-operates for common ends, and in its individual membersare bred the qualities of industry, patience, and perseverance. Themanual work of the schools is but a makeshift for the old-fashionedtraining of the country-grown boy. Country life is an admirablepreparation for the modern industrial and professional career. 

Nevertheless, rural isolation is a real evil. Present-day living is sodistinctively social, progress is so dependent upon social agencies, social development is so rapid, that if the farmer is to keep his statushe must be fully in step with the rest of the army. He must secure thesocial view-point. The disadvantages of rural isolation are largely inthe realm of the social relations, its advantages mostly on theindividual and moral side. Farm life makes a strong individual; it is aserious menace to the achievement of class power. 

A cure for isolation sometimes suggested is the gathering of the farmersinto villages. This remedy, however, is of doubtful value. In the firstplace, the scheme is not immediately practicable. About three andone-half billions of dollars are now invested in farm buildings, and itwill require some motive more powerful than that inspired by academiclogic to transfer, even gradually, this investment to village groups. Moreover, it is possible to dispute the desirability of the remedy. Thefarm village at best must be a mere hamlet. It can secure for the farmervery few of the urban advantages he may want, except that of permittingcloser daily intercourse between families. And it is questionable if thepetty society of such a village can compensate for the freedom andpurity of rural family life now existing. It may even be asserted withsome degree of positiveness that the small village, on the moral andintellectual sides, is distinctly inferior to the isolated farm home. 

At the present time rural isolation in America is being overcome by thedevelopment of better means of communication among farmers who stilllive on their farms. So successful are these means of communicationproving that we cannot avoid the conclusion that herein lies the remedy. Improved wagon roads, the rural free mail delivery, the farm telephone, trolley lines through country districts, are bringing about a positiverevolution in country living. They are curing the evils of isolation, without in the slightest degree robbing the farm of its manifestadvantages for family life. The farmers are being welded into a morecompact society. They are being nurtured to greater alertness of mind, to greater keenness of observation, and the foundations are being laidfor vastly enlarged social activities. The problem now is to extendthese advantages to every rural community--in itself a task of hugeproportions. If this can be done and isolation can be reduced to aminimum, the solution of all the other rural social problems will becomevastly easier. 

FARMERS' ORGANIZATION

Organization is one of the pressing social problems that Americanfarmers have to face. The importance of the question is intrinsic, because of the general social necessity for co-operation whichcharacterizes modern life. Society is becoming consciouslyself-directive. The immediate phase of this growing self-direction liesin the attempts of various social groups to organize their powers forgroup advantage. And if, as seems probable, this group activity is toremain a dominant feature of social progress, even in a fairly coherentsociety, it is manifest that there will result more or less ofcompetition among groups. 

The farming class, if at all ambitious for group influence, can hardlyavoid this tendency to organization. Farmers, indeed more than anyother class, need to organize. Their isolation makes thoroughorganization especially imperative. And the argument for co-operationgains force from the fact that relatively the agricultural population isdeclining. In the old days farmers ruled because of mere mass. That isno longer possible. The naďve statement that "farmers must organizebecause other classes are organizing" is really good social philosophy. 

In the group competition just referred to there is a tendency for classinterests to be put above general social welfare. This is a danger to beavoided in organization, not an argument against it. So the farmers'organization should be guarded, at this point, by adherence to theprinciple that organization must not only develop class power, but mustbe so directed as to permit the farmers to lend the full strength oftheir class to general social progress. 

Organization thus becomes a test of class efficiency, and consequently aprerequisite for solving the farm problem. Can the farming class secureand maintain a fairly complete organization? Can it develop efficientleaders? Can it announce, in sound terms, its proposed group policy? Canit lend the group influence to genuine social progress? If so, theorganization of farmers becomes a movement of pre-eminent importance. 

Organization, moreover, is a powerful educational force. It arousesdiscussion of fundamental questions, diffuses knowledge, gives practicein public affairs, trains individuals in executive work, and, in fine, stimulates, as nothing else can, a class which is in special need ofsocial incentive. 

Organization is, however, difficult of accomplishment. While it wouldtake us too far afield to discuss the history of farmers' organizationsin America, we may briefly suggest some of the difficulties involved. For forty years the question has been a prominent one among the farmers, and these years have seen the rise and decline of several largeassociations. There have been apparently two great factors contributingto the downfall of these organizations. The first was a misapprehension, on the part of the farmers, of the feasibility of organizing themselvesas a political phalanx; the second, a sentimental belief in thepossibilities of business co-operation among farmers, more especially inlines outside their vocation. There is no place for class politics inAmerica. There are some things legislation cannot cure. There areserious limitations to co-operative endeavor. It took many hardexperiences for our farmers to learn these truths. But back of all liesome inherent difficulties, as, for instance, the number of peopleinvolved, their isolation, sectional interests, ingrained habits ofindependent action, of individual initiative, of suspicion of others'motives. There is often lack of perspective, and unwillingness to investin a procedure that does not promise immediate returns. The mere fact offailure has discredited the organization idea. There is lack ofleadership; for the farm industry, while it often produces men of strongmind, keen perception, resolute will, does not, as a rule, developexecutive capacity for large enterprises. 

It is frequently asserted that farmers are the only class that has notorganized. This is not strictly true. The difficulties enumerated arereal difficulties and have seriously retarded farm organization. But ifthe progress made is not satisfactory, it is at least encouraging. Onthe purely business side, over five thousand co-operative societiesamong American farmers have been reported. In co-operative buying ofsupplies, co-operative selling of products, and co-operative insurancethe volume of transactions reaches large figures. A host of societiesof a purely educational nature exists among stock-breeders, fruit-growers, dairymen. It is true that no one general organization offarmers, embracing a large proportion of the class, has as yet beenperfected. The nearest approach to it is the Grange, which, contrary toa popular notion, is in a prosperous condition, with a really largeinfluence upon the social, financial, educational, and legislativeinterests of the farming class. It has had a steady growth during thepast ten years, and is a quiet but powerful factor in rural progress. The Grange is perhaps too conservative in its administrative policy. Ithas not at least succeeded in converting to its fold the farmers of thegreat Mississippi Valley. But it has workable machinery, it disavowspartisan politics and selfish class interests, and it subordinatesfinancial benefits, while emphasizing educational and broadly politicaladvantages. It seems fair to interpret the principles of the Grange aswholly in line with the premise of this paper, that the farmers need topreserve their status, politically, industrially, and socially, and thatorganization is one of the fundamental methods they must use. TheGrange, therefore, deserves to succeed, and indeed is succeeding. 

The field of agricultural organization is an extensive one. But if thefarm problem is to be solved satisfactorily, the American farmers mustfirst secure reasonably complete organization. 

RURAL EDUCATION

It is hardly necessary to assert that the education of that portion ofthe American people who live upon the land involves a question of thegreatest significance. The subject naturally divides itself into twophases, one of which may be designated as rural education proper, theother as agricultural education. Rural education has to do with theeducation of people, more especially of the young, who live under ruralconditions; agricultural education aims to prepare men and women for thespecific vocation of agriculture. The rural school typifies the first;the agricultural school, the second. Rural education is but a section ofthe general school question; agricultural education is a branch oftechnical training. These two phases of the education of the farmpopulation meet at many points, they must work in harmony, and togetherthey form a distinct educational problem. 

The serious difficulties in the rural school question are perhapsthree: first, to secure a modern school, in efficiency somewhatcomparable to the town school, without unduly increasing the school tax;second, so to enrich the curriculum and so to expand the functions ofthe school that the school shall become a vital and coherent part of thecommunity life, on the one hand translating the rural environment intoterms of character and mental efficiency, and on the other hand servingperfectly as a stepping-stone to the city schools and to urban careers;third, to provide adequate high-school facilities in the ruralcommunity. 

The centralization of district schools and the transportation of pupilswill probably prove to be more nearly a solution of all thesedifficulties than will any other one scheme. The plan permits thepayment of higher wages for teachers and ought to secure betterinstruction; it permits the employment of special teachers, as fornature-study or agriculture; it increases the efficiency ofsuperintendence; it costs but little, if any, more than the districtsystem; it leaves the school amid rural surroundings, while introducinginto the schoolroom itself a larger volume, so to speak, ofworld-atmosphere; it contains possibilities for community service; itcan easily be expanded into a high school of reputable grade. 

There are two dangers, both somewhat grave, likely to arise from anurgent campaign for centralization. Even if the movement makes as greatprogress as could reasonably be expected, for a generation to come alarge share, if not a major portion, of rural pupils will still betaught in the small, isolated, district school; there is danger thatthis district school may be neglected. Moreover, increased schoolmachinery always invites undue reliance upon machine-like methods. Centralization permits, but does not guarantee, greater efficiency. Asystem like this one must be vitalized by constant and close touch withthe life and needs and aspirations of the rural community itself. 

Wherever centralization is not adopted, the consolidation of two orthree schools--a modified form of centralization--may prove helpful. Where the district school still persists, there are one or twoimperative requirements. Teachers must have considerably higher wagesand longer tenure. There must be more efficient supervision. The statemust assist in supporting the school, although only in part. The smallschools must be correlated with some form of high school. The lastpoint is of great importance because of the comparative absence incountry communities of opportunity near at hand for _good_ high-schooltraining. 

Agricultural education is distinctively technical, not in the restrictedsense of mere technique, or even of applied science, but in the sensethat it must be frankly vocational. It has to do with the preparation ofmen and women for the business of farming and for life in the ruralcommunity. 

Agricultural education should begin in the primary school. In thisschool the point of view, however, should be broadly pedagogical ratherthan immediately vocational. Fortunately, the wise teaching ofnature-study, the training of pupils to know and to love nature, theconstant illustrations from the rural environment, the continual appealto personal observation and experience, absolute loyalty to the farmpoint of view, are not only sound pedagogy, but form the best possiblebackground for future vocational study. Whether we call this early work"nature-study" or call it "agriculture" matters less than that thefundamental principle be recognized. It must first of all _educate_. Thegreatest difficulty in introducing such work into the primary school isto secure properly equipped teachers. 

Perhaps the most stupendous undertaking in agricultural education is theadequate development of secondary education in agriculture. Theoverwhelming majority of young people who secure any agriculturalschooling whatever must get it in institutions that academically are ofsecondary grade. This is a huge task. If developed to supply existingneeds, it will call for an enormous expenditure of money and for themost careful planning. From the teaching view-point it is a difficultproblem. Modern agriculture is based upon the sciences; it will not do, therefore, to establish schools in the mere art of farming. But theseagricultural high schools must deal with pupils who are comparativelyimmature, and who almost invariably have had no preparation in science. Nor should the courses at these schools be ultra-technical. They are toprepare men and women for life on the farm--men and women who are tolead in rural development, and who must get some inkling at least of thereal farm question and its solution. The agricultural school, therefore, presents a problem of great difficulty. 

A perennial question in agricultural education is: What is the functionof the agricultural college? We have not time to trace the history ofthese colleges, nor to elaborate the various views relative to theirmission. But let us for a moment discuss their proper function in thelight of the proposition that the preservation of the farmers' status isthe real farm problem; for the college can be justified only as it findsits place among the social agencies helpful in the solution of the farmquestion. 

In so far as the agricultural college, through its experiment station orotherwise, is an organ of research, it should carry its investigationsinto the economic and sociological fields, as well as pursue experimentsin soil fertility and animal nutrition. 

In the teaching of students, the agricultural college will continue theimportant work of training men for agricultural research, agriculturalteaching, and expert supervision of various agricultural enterprises. But the college should put renewed emphasis upon its ability to sendwell-trained men to the farms, there to live their lives, there to findtheir careers, and there to lead in the movements for rural progress. Adecade ago it was not easy to find colleges which believed that thiscould be done, and some agricultural educators have even disavowed sucha purpose as a proper object of the colleges. But the strongestagricultural colleges today have pride in just such a purpose. And whynot? We not only need men thus trained as leaders in every ruralcommunity, but, if the farming business cannot be made to offer a careerto a reasonable number of college-trained men, it is a sure sign thatonly by the most herculean efforts can the farmers maintain their statusas a class. If agriculture must be turned over wholly to the untrainedand to the half-trained, if it cannot satisfy the ambition of strong, well-educated men and women, its future, from the social point of view, is indeed gloomy. 

The present-day course of study in the agricultural college does not, however, fully meet this demand for rural leadership. The farm problemhas been regarded as a technical question, and a technical training hasbeen offered the student. The agricultural college, therefore, needs"socializing. " Agricultural economics and rural sociology should occupya large place in the curriculum. The men who go from the college to thefarm should appreciate the significance of the agricultural question, and should be trained to organize their forces for genuine ruralprogress. The college should, as far as possible, become the leader inthe whole movement for solving the farm problem. 

The farm home has not come in for its share of attention in existingschemes of agricultural education. The kitchen and the dining-room haveas much to gain from science as have the dairy and the orchard. Theinspiration of vocational knowledge must be the possession of her who isthe entrepreneur of the family, the home-maker. The agriculturalcolleges through their departments of domestic science--better, of"home-making"--should inaugurate a comprehensive movement for carryingto the farm home a larger measure of the advantages which modern scienceis showering upon humanity. 

The agricultural college must also lead in a more adequate developmentof extension teaching. Magnificent work has already been done throughfarmers' institutes, reading courses, co-operative experiments, demonstrations, and correspondence. But the field is so immense, thenumber of people involved so enormous, the difficulties of reaching themso many, that it offers a genuine problem, and one of peculiarsignificance, not only because of the generally recognized need ofadult education, but also because of the isolation of the farmers. 

It should be said that in no line of rural betterment has so muchprogress been made in America as in agricultural education. Merely todescribe the work that is being done through nature-study andagriculture in the public schools, through agricultural schools, throughour magnificent agricultural colleges, through farmers' institutes, andespecially through the experiment stations and the federal Department ofAgriculture in agricultural research and in the distribution of the bestagricultural information--merely to inventory these movements properlywould take the time available for this discussion. What has been saidrelative to agricultural education is less in way of criticism ofexisting methods than in way of suggestion as to fundamental needs. 

THE ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS PROBLEM

Wide generalizations as to the exact moral situation in the ruralcommunity are impossible. Conditions have not been adequately studied. It is probably safe to say that the country environment is extremelyfavorable for pure family life, for temperance, and for bodily andmental health. To picture the country a paradise is, however, meresilliness. There are in the country, as elsewhere, evidences ofvulgarity in language, of coarseness in thought, of social impurity, ofdishonesty in business. There is room in the country for all the ethicalteaching that can be given. 

Nor is it easy to discuss the country church question. Conditions varyin different parts of the Union, and no careful study has been made ofthe problem. As a general proposition, it may be said that there are toomany churches in the country, and that these are illy supported. Consequently, they have in many cases inferior ministers. Sectarianismis probably more divisive than in the city, not only because of thenatural conservatism of the people and a natural disinclination tochange their views, but because sectarian quarrels are perhaps moreeasily fomented and less easily harmonized than anywhere else. Moreover, in the city a person can usually find a denomination to his liking. Inthe country, even with the present overchurched condition, this isdifficult. 

The ideal solution of the country church problem is to have in eachrural community one strong church adequately supported, properlyequipped, ministered to by an able man--a church which leads incommunity service. The path to the realization of such an ideal is roughand thorny. Church federation, however, promises large results in thisdirection and should be especially encouraged. 

Whatever outward form the solution of the country church question maytake, there seem to be several general principles involved in asatisfactory attempt to meet the issue. In the first place, the countrychurch offers a problem by itself, socially considered. Methodssuccessful in the city may not succeed in the country. The countrychurch question must then be studied thoroughly and on the ground. 

Again, the same principle of financial aid to be utilized in the case ofthe schools must be invoked here. The wealth of the whole church mustcontribute to the support of the church everywhere. The strong must helpthe weak. The city must help the country. But this aid must be given byco-operation, not by condescension. The demand cannot be met by homemissionary effort nor by church-building contributions; the principlegoes far deeper than that. Some device must be secured which bindstogether the whole church, along denominational lines if must be, for afull development of church work in every community in the land. 

Furthermore, there is supreme necessity for adding dignity to thecountry parish. Too often at present the rural parish is regarded eitheras a convenient laboratory for the clerical novice, or as an asylum forthe decrepit or inefficient. The country parish must be a parish for ourablest and strongest. The ministry of the most Christlike must be to thehill-towns of Galilee as well as to Jerusalem. 

There is still another truth that the country church cannot afford toignore. The rural church question is peculiarly interwoven with theindustrial and social problems of the farm. A declining agriculturecannot foster a growing church. An active church can render especiallystrong service to a farm community, in its influence upon the religiouslife, the home life, the educational life, the social life, and evenupon the industrial life. Nowhere else are these various phases ofsociety's activities so fully members one of another as in the country. The country church should co-operate with other rural social agencies. This means that the country pastor should assume a certain leadership inmovements for rural progress. He is splendidly fitted, by the nature ofhis work and by his position in the community, to co-operate withearnest farmers for the social and economic, as well as the moral andspiritual, upbuilding of the farm community. But he must know the farmproblem. Here is an opportunity for theological seminaries: let themmake rural sociology a required subject. And, better, here is amagnificent field of labor for the right kind of young men. The countrypastorate may thus prove to be, as it ought to be, a place of honor andrare privilege. In any event, the country church, to render its properservice, not alone must minister to the individual soul, but must throwitself into the struggle for rural betterment, must help solve the farmproblem. 

FEDERATION OF FORCES

The suggestion that the country church should ally itself with otheragencies of rural progress may be carried a step farther. Rural socialforces should be federated. The object of such federation is toemphasize the real nature of the farm problem, to interest many peoplein its solution, and to secure the co-operation of the various ruralsocial agencies, each of which has its sphere, but also its limitations. The method of federation is to bring together, for conference and foractive work, farmers--especially representatives of farmers'organizations, agricultural educators, rural school-teachers andsupervisors, country clergymen, country editors; in fact, all who have agenuine interest in the farm problem. Thus will come clearer views ofthe questions at issue, broader plans for reform, greater incentive toaction, and more rapid progress. 

CONCLUSION

In this brief analysis of the social problems of American farmers it hasbeen possible merely to outline those aspects of the subject that seemto be fundamental. It is hoped that the importance of each problem hasbeen duly emphasized, that the wisest methods of progress have beenindicated, and that the relation of the various social agencies to themain question has been clearly brought out. Let us leave the subject byemphasizing once more the character of the ultimate farm problem. Thisproblem may be stated more concretely, if not more accurately, than wasdone at the opening of the paper, by saying that the ideal of ruralbetterment is to preserve upon our farms the typical American farmer. The American farmer has been essentially a middle-class man. It is thistype we must maintain. Agriculture must be made to yield returns inwealth, in opportunity, in contentment, in social position, sufficientto attract and to hold to it a class of intelligent, educated Americancitizens. This is an end vital to the preservation of Americandemocratic ideals. It is a result that will not achieve itself; socialagencies must be invoked for its accomplishment. It demands theintelligent and earnest co-operation of all who love the soil and whoseek America's permanent welfare. 

FOOTNOTE:

[1] The material for this chapter is taken from an address entitled"Social Problems of American Farmers, " which was read before theCongress of Arts and Science, section of The Rural Community, at St. Louis, September, 1904. 

THE OUTLOOK

CHAPTER III

THE EXPANSION OF FARM LIFE

Narrowness is perhaps the charge most often brought against Americanfarm life. To a certain extent this charge may be just, though thecomparisons that usually lead up to the conclusion do not alwaysdiscriminate. It must be remembered that there are degrees ofdesirability in farm life, and that at the least there are multitudes ofrural communities where bright flowers still bloom, where the shade isrefreshing, and the waters are sweet. But, granting for the time that inthe main rural life is less pleasant, less rich, less expansive thancity life, we shall urge that this era of restriction is rapidly drawingto a close. There are forces at work that are molding rural life by newstandards, and the old régime is passing. We shall soon be able to sayof the country that "old things have passed away; all things have becomenew. "

This statement may seem too optimistic to some who can marshal an arrayof facts to prove that bigotry, narrowness, and the whole family of illsbegotten by isolation still thrive in the country. It is true that ourpicture is not all of rose tints. But what of that? If it were not truethere would be no farm problem; the country would have to convert thetown. The fact remains that rural life is undergoing a rapid expansion. Materially, socially, and intellectually, the farmer is broadening. Oldprejudices are fading. The plowman is no longer content to keep his eyeforever on the furrow. The revival has been in slow progress for sometime and has not yet reached its zenith; indeed, the movement is butwell under way. For while the new day came long ago to some ruralcommunities and they are basking in a noonday sun, yet in far too manylocalities the faintest gray of dawn is all that rouses hope. 

The fundamental change that is taking place is the gradual adoption ofthe new agriculture. "Book-farmin'" is still decried, and many"perfessers" have a rocky road to travel in their attempts to guide themasses through the labyrinth of scientific knowledge that has beenconstructed during the last decade or two. This difficulty has not beenwholly the farmer's fault--the scientist would often have been morepersuasive had his wings been clipped. But there is a decided "gettingtogether" nowadays--the farmer and the man of science have at lastfound common ground. And while the pendulum of agricultural prosperityshall always swing to and fro, there are, to change the figure, reasonsfor believing that an increasing number of farmers have rooted the treeof permanent success. 

To enumerate some of these reasons: (1) Thousands of farmers are farmingon a scientific basis. They use the results of soil and fertilizeranalysis; they cultivate, not to kill weeds so much as to conservemoisture; horticulturists spray their trees according to formulas laiddown by experimenters; dairymen use the "Babcock test" for determiningthe fat content of milk; stock-feeders utilize the scientists' feedingrations. (2) The number of specialists among farmers is increasing. Thisis a sign of progress surely. More and more farmers are coming to push asingle line of work. (3) New methods are being rapidly adopted. Fifteenyears ago hardly a fruit-grower sprayed for insect and fungus pests;today it is rare to find one who does not. The co-operative creamery hasnot only revolutionized the character of the butter product made by thefactory system, but it has set the pace for thousands of privatedairymen who are now making first-class dairy butter. (4) In generalthe whole idea of _intensive_ farming is gaining ground. 

This specialization, or intensification, of agriculture makes a newdemand, upon those who pursue it, in the way of mental and businesstraining. This training is being furnished by a multitude of agencies, and the younger generation of farmers is taking proper advantage of theopportunities thus offered. What are some of these regular agencies? (1)An alert farm press, containing contributions from both successfulfarmers and scientific workers. (2) Farmers' institutes, which aretraveling schools of technical instruction for farmers. (3) Thebulletins issued by the government experiment stations located in everystate, and by the federal Department of Agriculture. (4) Special wintercourses (of from two to twelve weeks), offered at nearly all theagricultural colleges of the country, for instruction in practicalagriculture. (5) Regular college courses in agriculture at these samecolleges. (6) Extension instruction by lectures and correspondence. (7)A growing book literature of technical agriculture. (8) More encouragingthan all else is the spirit of inquiry that prevails among farmers thecountry over--the recognition that there is a basis of science inagriculture. No stronger pleas for the advancement of agriculturaleducation can be found than those that have recently been formulated byfarmers themselves. 

If this regeneration of farm life were wholly material it would be worthnoting; for it promises a prosperity built on foundations sufficientlystrong to withstand ordinary storms. Yet this is but a chapter of thestory. Not only are our American farmers making a study of theirbusiness, bringing to it the resources of advancing knowledge and goodmental training, and hence deriving from it the strong, alert mentalcharacter that comes to all business men who pursue equally intelligentmethods, but the farmers are by no means neglecting their duty tobroaden along general intellectual lines. Farmers have always beeninterested in politics; there is no reason to think that their interestis declining. The Grange and other organizations keep their attention oncurrent problems. Traveling libraries, school libraries, and Grangelibraries are giving new opportunities for general reading, and thefarmer's family is not slow to accept the chance. Low prices formagazines and family papers bring to these periodicals an increasinglist from the rural offices. Rural free mail delivery promises, amongmany other results of vast importance, to enlarge the circulation ofdaily papers among farmers not less than tenfold. 

The really great lesson that farmers are rapidly learning is to worktogether. They have been the last class to organize, and jealousy, distrust, and isolation have made such organizations as they have hadcomparatively ineffective. But gradually they are learning tocompromise, to work in harmony, to sink merely personal views, to trusttheir own leaders, to keep troth in financially co-operative projects. There will be no Farmers' Party organized; but the higher politics isgaining among farmers, and more and more independent voting may beexpected from the rural precincts. Farmers are learning to pool such oftheir interests as can be furthered by legislation. 

It is also true that the whole aspect of social life in the country isundergoing a profound evolutionary movement. Farmers are meeting oneanother more frequently than they used to. They have more picnics andholidays. They travel more. They go sight-seeing. They take advantage ofexcursions. Their social life is more mobile than formerly. Farmershave more comforts and luxuries than ever before. They dress betterthan they did. More of them ride in carriages than formerly. They buyneater and better furniture. The newer houses are prettier and morecomfortable than their predecessors. Bicycles and cameras are notuncommon in the rural home. Rural telephone exchanges are relatively anew thing, but the near future will see the telephone a part of theordinary furniture of the rural household; while electric car linespromise to be the final link in the chain of advantages that is rapidlytransforming rural life--robbing it of its isolation, giving it balanceand poise, softening its hard outlines, and in general achieving itsthorough regeneration. 

This sketch is no fancy tale. The movement described is genuine andpowerful. The busy city world may not note the signs of progress. Well-minded philanthropists may feel that the rural districts are inspecial need of their services. Even to the watchers on the walls thereis much of discouragement in the advancement that _isn't_ being made. Yet it needs no prophet's eye to see that a vast change for the betterin rural life and conditions is now in progress. 

No student of these conditions expects or desires that the evolutionshall be Acadian in its results. It is to be hoped indeed that countrysweets shall not lose their delights; that the farmer himself may findin his surroundings spiritual and mental ambrosia. But what is wanted, and what is rapidly coming, is the breaking down of those barriers whichhave so long differentiated country from urban life; the extinction ofthat social ostracism which has been the farmer's fate; the obliterationof that line which for many a youth has marked the bounds ofopportunity: in fact, the creation of a rural society whose advantages, rewards, prerogatives, chances for service, means of culture, andpleasures are representative of the best and sanest life that theaccumulated wisdom of the ages can prescribe for mankind. 

CHAPTER IV

THE NEW FARMER

All farmers may be divided into three classes. There is the "old"farmer, there is the "new" farmer, and there is the "mossback. " The oldfarmer represents the ancient régime. The new farmer is the modernbusiness agriculturist. The mossback is a mediaeval survival. The oldfarmer was in his day a new farmer; he was "up with the times, " as thetimes then were. The new farmer is merely the worthy son of a noblesire; he is the modern embodiment of the old farmer's progressiveness. The mossback is the man who tries to use the old methods under the newconditions; he is not "up" with the present times, but "back" with theold times. Though he lives and moves in the present, he really has hisbeing in the past. 

The old farmer is the man who conquered the American continent. His axestruck the crown from the monarchs of the wood, and the fertile farms ofOhio are the kingdom he created. He broke the sod of the rich prairies, and the tasseling cornfields of Iowa tell the story of his deeds. Hehitched his plow to the sun, and his westward lengthening furrows fillthe world's granary. 

The new farmer has his largest conquests yet to make. But he has put hisfaith in the strong arm of science; he has at his hand the commercialmechanism of a world of business. He believes he will win because he isin league with the ongoing forces of our civilization. 

The mossback cannot win, because he prefers a flintlock to a Mauser. Hehas his eyes upon the ground, and uses snails instead of stars forhorses. 

The old farmer was a pioneer, and he had all the courage, enterprise, and resourcefulness of the pioneer. He was virile, above all thingselse. He owned and controlled everything in sight. He was astate-builder. Half a century ago, in the Middle West, the strong menand the influential families were largely farmers. Even professional menowned and managed farms, frequently living upon them. The smell of thesoil sweetened musty law books, deodorized the doctor's den, and floatedas incense above the church altars. 

The new farmer lives in a day when the nation is not purely anagricultural nation, but is also a manufacturing and a trading nation. He belongs no longer to the dominant class, so far as commercial andsocial and political influence are concerned. But none of these thingsmove him. For he realizes that out of this seeming decline ofagriculture grow his best opportunities. He discards pioneer methodsbecause pioneering is not now an effective art. 

The mossback sees perhaps clearly enough these changes, but he does notunderstand their meaning, nor does he know how to meet them. He isdazzled by the romantic halo of the good old times, dumfounded by theelectric energy of the present, discouraged and distracted by thepressure of forces that crush his hopes and stifle his strength. 

Economically, the old farmer was not a business man, but a barterer. Therule of barter still survives in the country grocery where butter andeggs are traded for sugar and salt. The old farmer was industriallyself-sufficient. He did not farm on a commercial basis. He raised applesfor eating and for cider, not for market--there was no apple market. Hehad very little ready money, he bought and sold few products. He traded. Even his grain, which afterward became the farmer's great cash crop, wasraised in small quantities and ground at the nearest mill--not forexport, but for a return migration to the family flour-barrel. 

The new farmer has always existed--because he is the old farmer growing. He has kept pace with our industrial evolution. When the régime ofbarter passed away, he ceased to barter. When the world's market becamea fact, he raised wheat for the world's market. As agriculture became abusiness, he became a business man. As agricultural science began tocontribute to the art of farming, he studied applied science. Asindustrial education developed, he founded and patronized institutionsfor agricultural education. As alertness and enterprise began to beindispensable in commercial activity, he grew alert and enterprising. 

The mossback is the man who has either misread the signs of the times, or who has not possessed the speed demanded in the two-minute class. Heis the old farmer gone to seed. He tries to fit the old methods to thenew régime. 

But it is not sufficient to picture the new farmer. You must explainhim. What is it that makes the new farmer? Who is he? What are histools? In the first place, you cannot explain the new farmer unless youknow the old farmer. You cannot have the new farmer unless you alsohave the mossback. The new farmer is a comparative person, as it were. You have to define him in terms of the mossback. The contrast is notbetween the old farmer and the new, for that is merely a question ofrelative conditions in different epochs of time. The contrast is betweenthe new farmer and the mossback, for that is a question of men and oftheir relative efficiency as members of the industrial order. Then, ofcourse, you must observe the individual traits that characterize the newfarmer, such as keenness, business instinct, readiness to adopt newmethods, and, in fact, all the qualities that make a man a success todayin any calling. For the new farmer, in respect to his personalqualities, is not a sport, a phenomenon. He does not stand out as adistinct and peculiar specimen. He is a successful American citizen whogrows corn instead of making steel rails. 

But you have not yet explained the new farmer. These personal traits donot explain him. It may be possible to explain an individual and hissuccess by calling attention to his characteristics, and yet you cannotcompletely analyze him and his career unless you understand theconditions under which he works--the industrial and social environment. Much less can you explain a class of people by describing their personalcharacteristics. You must reach out into the great current of life thatis about them, and discern the direction and power of that current. 

Now, the conditions that tend to make the new farmer possible may begrouped in an old-fashioned way under two heads. In the old scientificphrases the two forces that make the new farmer are the "struggle forlife" and "environment, " or, to use other words, competition andopportunity. 

Competition has pressed severely upon the farmer, competition at homeand competition from other countries. At one time the heart of thewheat-growing industry of this country was near Rochester, N. Y. , in theGenesee Valley; but the canal and the railway soon made possible theoccupation of the great granary of the west. A multitude of ambitiousyoung men soon took possession of that granary, and the flour-mills weremoved from Rochester to Minneapolis. This is an old story, but the sameforces are still at work. There has been developed a world-market. Thesheep of the Australian bush have become competitors of the flocks thatfeed upon the green Vermont mountains and the Ohio hills. The plains ofArgentina grow wheat for London. Russia, Siberia, and India pour aconstant stream of golden grain into the industrial centers of WesternEurope, and the price of American wheat is fixed in London. These forceshave produced still another kind of competition; namely, specializationamong farmers. Localities particularly adapted to special crops arebecoming centers where skill and intelligence bring the industry to itsheight. The truck-farming of the South Atlantic region, the fruitgrowing of western Michigan, the butter factories of Wisconsin andMinnesota, have crowded almost to suffocation the small market-gardenerof the northern town, the man with a dozen peach trees, and the farmerwho keeps two cows and trades the surplus butter for calico. Thesethings have absolutely forced progress upon the farmer. It is indeed a"struggle for life. " Out of it comes the "survival of the fittest, " andthe fittest is the new farmer. 

But along with competition has come opportunity. Indeed, out of thesevery facts that have made competition so strenuous spring the mostmarvelous opportunities for the progressive farmer. Specializationbrings out the best that there is in the locality and the man. It givesa chance to apply science to farming. Our transportation system permitsthe peach growers of Grand Rapids to place their crops at a profit inthe markets of Buffalo and Pittsburg; the rich orchards and vineyards ofSouthern California find their chief outlet in the cities of themanufacturing Northeast--three thousand miles away. During the fortyyears, from 1860, the exports of wheat from this country increased fromfour million bushels annually to one hundred and forty million bushels;of corn, from three and one-third million bushels to one hundred andseventy-five million bushels; of beef products, from twenty millionpounds to three hundred and seventy million pounds; of pork products, from ninety-eight million pounds to seventeen hundred million pounds. And not only do the grain and stock farmers find this outlet for theirsurplus products, but we are beginning to ship abroad high-grade fruitand first-class dairy products in considerable quantities. Low rates offreight, modern methods of refrigeration, express freight trains, fastfreight steamers--the whole machinery of the commercial and financialworld are at the service of the new farmer. Science, also, has found aworld of work in ministering to the needs of agriculture, and in ahundred different ways the new farmer finds helps that have sprung upfrom the broadcast sowing of the hand of science. 

But perhaps even more remarkable opportunities come to the new farmer inthose social agencies that tend to remove the isolation of the country;that assist in educating the farmer broadly; that give farmers as aclass more influence in legislature and congress, and that, in fine, make rural life more worth the living. The new farmer cannot beexplained until one is somewhat familiar with the character of theserural social agencies. They have already been enumerated and classifiedin a previous chapter; they will be more fully described in subsequentchapters. 

It must not be supposed that every successful farmer is necessarily asupporter of all of these social agencies. He may be a prosperous farmerjust because he is good at the art of farming, or because he is a keenbusiness man. But more and more he is coming to see that these thingsare opportunities that he cannot afford to disregard. Indeed, some ofthese institutions are largely the creation of the new farmer himself. He is using them as tools to fashion a better rural social structure. 

But they also fashion him. They serve to explain him, in great part. Competition inspires the farmer to his best efforts. The opportunityoffered by these new and growing advantages gives him the implementswherewith to make his rightful niche in the social and industrialsystem. 

It would be erroneous to suppose that the new farmer is a _rara avis_. He is not. The spirit pervading the ranks of farmers is rapidlychanging. We have been in a state of transition in agriculture. But thefarther shore has been reached and the bridge is possible. The army ofrural advancement is being recruited with great rapidity. The advanceguard is more than a body of scouts, it is an effective brigade. 

I want also to make a plea for the mossback. He must not be condemnedutterly. Remember that competition among farmers has been intense; thatrural environment breeds conservatism. Remember also that the farmercannot change his methods as rapidly as can some other business men. Remember, too, that there is comparatively small chance for speculationin agriculture; that large aggregates of capital cannot be collected forfarming, and consequently, that the approved means for securing immensewealth, great industrial advancement, and huge enterprises are nearlyabsent in agriculture. Remember that the voices calling from the citydeplete the country of many good farmers as well as of many poor ones. Moreover, there are many men on farms who perhaps don't care forfarming, but who for some reason cannot get away. On the farm a man neednot starve; he can make a livelihood. Doubtless this simple fact isresponsible for a multitude of mossbacks. They can live withoutstrenuous endeavor. Possibly a good many of us are strenuous because weare pushed into it. So I have a good deal of sympathy for the mossback, and a mild sort of scorn for some of his critics, who probably could notdo any better than he is doing if they essayed the gentle art ofagriculture. I also have sympathy for the mossback particularly becausehe is the man that needs attention. The new farmer takes the initiative. He patronizes these opportunities that we have been talking about. Butthe mossback, because he is discouraged, or because he is ignorant, orperhaps merely because he is conservative, takes little interest inthese things. About one farmer in ten belongs to some sort of farmers'association. Thousands of farmers do not take an agricultural paper, andperhaps millions of them have not read an agricultural book. Right herecomes in another fact. Every "new" farmer when full grown competes withevery mossback. The educated farmer makes it still harder for theignorant farmer to progress. 

The future of the American farmer is one of the most pregnant socialproblems with which we have to deal. There is indeed an issue involvedin the success of the new farmer that is still more fundamental than anyyet mentioned. The old farmer had a social standing that made himessentially a middle-class man. He was a landholder, he was independent, he was successful. He was the typical American citizen. The old farmerwas father to the best blood of America. His sons and his sons' sonshave answered to the roll call of our country's warriors, statesmen, writers, captains of industry. 

Can the new farmer maintain the same relative social status? And if hecan, is he to be an aristocrat, a landlord, a captain of industry, andto bear rule over the mossback? And is the tribe of mossbacks destinedto increase and become a caste of permanent tenants or peasants? Is thefuture American farmer to be the typical new farmer of the present, orare we traveling toward a social condition in which the tillers of thesoil will be underlings? Is there coming a time when the "man with thehoe" will be the true picture of the American farmer, with a lowstandard of living, without ideals, without a chance for progress?

We must eliminate the mossback. It is to be done largely by educationand by co-operation. There must be a campaign for rural progress. Theremust be a union of the country school teacher, of the agriculturalcollege professor, of the rural pastor, of the country editor, with thefarmers themselves, for the production of an increased crop of newfarmers. Anything that makes farm life more worth living, anything thatbanishes rural isolation, anything that dignifies the business offarming and makes it more prosperous, anything that broadens thefarmer's horizon, anything that gives him a greater grasp of the ruralmovement, anything that makes him a better citizen, a better businessman, or a better _man_, means the passing of the mossback. 

CHAPTER V

CULTURE FROM THE CORN LOT[2]

The question of questions that the college student asks himself is, Whatam I going to be? The surface query is, What am I going to _do_? But inhis heart of hearts he ponders the deeper questions: What may I becomein real intellectual and moral worth? How large a man, measured by thedivine standards, will it be possible for me to grow into?

These are the great questions because growth is the great end of life. That is what we are here for, to grow. To develop all our talents, allour possibilities, to increase our native powers of body, mind, andsoul--this is life. It is important that we have a vocation. We must dosomething, and do it well. But the real end is not in working at aprofession but in developing our abilities. Our symmetrical growth isthe measure of our success as human beings. 

As the student looks out over the ocean of life and scans the horizonfor signs of the wise course for him to take, he should decide whetherthe particular mode of life that now appeals to him will yield thegreatest possible measure of growth. He must consult his tastes, histalents, his opportunities, his training. And the test question is, Willthis line of work yield me the growth, the culture, I desire?

But what are the elements that yield culture to an individual? Usingculture in a very broad sense as a synonym for growth, we may say thatthe things contributing most to the culture of the average person arehis work, his leisure, and his service to others. We may now try toanswer the question we started with, as it presents itself to many astudent in the agricultural colleges of our country. Will agriculture asa business, will the farm life and environment, contribute to the growthwhich I desire for myself? Can I extract culture from the corn lot?

Let us first see if the work or vocation of farming gives culture. Myanswer would be that there is scarcely an occupation to be named thatrequires broader knowledge, more accurate observation, or the exerciseof better judgment than does modern farming. The farmer deals with theapplication of many sciences. He must be an alert business man. Herequires executive talent of no mean order. The study of his occupationin its wider phases leads him into direct contact with politicaleconomy, social movements, and problems of government. The questionsconfronting him as a farmer relate themselves to the leading realms ofhuman knowledge and experience. I speak of course of the progressivefarmer, who makes the best use of his opportunities. He can hardly hopeto become immensely wealthy, but he can maintain that modest standard ofliving that usually is the lot of our most useful and cultured peopleand that ministers as a rule most fully to the ideal family life. Thetruly modern farmer cannot help growing. 

There is much hard work on the farm. Yet on the whole there is fully asmuch leisure as in most other occupations. There is time to read, andbooks are today so easily accessible that living in the country is nobar to the bookshelf. Better than time to read is time to think. Thefarmer has always been a man who pondered things in his heart. He hashad a chance to meditate. No culture is sound except it has been boughtby much thinking; all else is veneer. Farm life gives in good measurethis time to think. But it is in nature that the farmer finds or mayfind his most fertile field for culture. Here he is at home. Here hemay revel if he will. Here he may find the sources of mind-liberationand of soul-emancipation. He may be the envy of everyone who dwells inthe city because he lives so near to nature's heart. Bird and flower, sky and tree, rock and running brook speak to him a various language. Hemay read God's classics, listen to the music of divine harmonies, androam the picture galleries of the Eternal. So too in his dealings withhis kind, he lives close to men and women who are frank, virile, direct, clean, independent. The culture coming from such associations is aboveprice. One learns to pierce all shams, to honor essential manhood, tokeep pure the fountains of sympathy, ambition, and love. Thus on thefarm one may find full opportunity for that second means of culture, leisure. 

Another powerful agency for cultivating the human soul is service. Indeed, service is the dynamic of life. To be of use is the ambitionthat best stimulates real growth. Culture is the end of life, the spiritof service the motive power. So it is of this I would speak perhaps mostfully, not only because it is a vital means of culture, but because itis also peculiarly the privilege and duty of the college man and thecollege woman. For let it be said that if any college student secures adiploma of any degree without having been seized upon by a high ambitionto be of some use in the work of helping humanity forward, then havethat person's years of study been in vain, and his teaching also vain. The college man comes not to be ministered unto but to minister. He hasbeen poorly taught if he leaves college with no thought but for hismaterial success. He must have had a vision of service, his lips touchedwith a coal from the altar of social usefulness, and his heartcultivated to respond to the call for any need he can supply, "Here amI, send me. "

I think it may safely be said that there is no field which offers betterchance for leadership to the average college man or woman than does thefarm. Take, for instance, politics. The majority of our states areagricultural states. The majority of our counties are agriculturalcounties. The agricultural vote is the determining factor in a largeproportion of our elections. It follows inevitably that honest, strongfarmers with the talent for leadership and the ability to handlethemselves in competition with other political leaders have amarvelously fine chance for useful service. 

So is it in educational questions. Nowhere may the citizen come intocloser contact with the educational problems of the day than throughservice on the rural school board. If he brings to this position trainedintelligence, some acquaintance with educational questions, and a desireto keep in touch with the advancement of the times, he can do for hiscommunity a service that can hardly be imagined. 

Take another field--that of organization for farmers, constituting aproblem of great significance. As yet this class of people is relativelyunorganized, but the movement is growing and the need of well-trainedleadership is vital. I cannot speak too strongly of the chance hereoffered for active, intelligent, masterful men and women in being of useas leaders and officials in the Grange and other farmers' organizations. 

So with the church question. One of the reasons for the slow progress ofthe country church is the conservatism in the pews as well as in thepulpit. The ardent member of the Young Men's Christian Association incollege may feel that, in the country, there will be no outlet for hisambition to be of religious use to his fellow-men. This is a mistake. The work of the Young Men's Christian Association itself in the countrydistricts is just beginning, and promises large growth. Wider service inthe church, a community federation or union of different churches, thework of young people's societies and of the Sunday schools--all theseafford abundant opportunity for the man or the woman qualified andwilling. 

There are other lines of usefulness. Although I have stated that on thefarm the opportunities for personal culture are great, it must beconfessed that these opportunities are not fully utilized by the averagefarmer's family. Here then is a very wide field, especially for thefarmer's wife. For if she is a cultivated college woman, she can throughthe woman's club, the Grange, the school, the nature-study club, thetraveling library, and in scores of ways exercise an influence for goodon the community that may have far greater results than would come fromher efforts if expended in the average city. The farm home too haslatent capacities that are yet to be developed. It ought to be the idealhome and, in many cases, it is. But there are not enough of such idealhomes in the country. No college woman with a desire to do her fullservice in the world ought for an instant to despise the chance forservice as it exists on the farm. 

All of these opportunities so briefly suggested might be enlarged uponalmost indefinitely, but the mere mention of them emphasizes the callfor this service and this leadership. Nowhere are leaders more neededthan in the country. The country has been robbed of many of itsstrongest and best. The city and perhaps the nation are gainers: but thecountry has suffered. From one point of view, the future of our farmingcommunities depends upon the quality of leadership that we are to findthere during the next generation. 

So we come back to our question, Can the farm be made to yield to theman or woman, residing upon it and making a living from it, that measureof growth and all-round development that the ambitious person wishes toattain? And our answer is, Yes. In its work, its leisure, its field forservice, it may minister to sound culture. If you love the life and workof the farm, do not hesitate to choose that occupation for fear ofbecoming narrow or stunted. You can live there the full, free life. Youcan grow to your full stature there. You can get culture from the cornlot. 

FOOTNOTE:

[2] Addressed to students in an agricultural college. 

THE AGENCIES OF PROGRESS

CHAPTER VI

EDUCATION FOR THE FARMER

The two generations living subsequent to the year 1875 are to bewitnesses of an era in American history that will be known as the age ofindustrial education. These years are to be the boundaries of a periodwhen the general principle that every individual shall be properlytrained for his or her occupation in life is to receive its practicalapplication. Future generations will doubtless extend marvelously thelimits to which the principle can be pushed in its ministrations tohuman endeavor, but we are in the time when the principle is first toreceive general acceptation and is to be regarded as a fundamentallynecessary fact of human progress. 

We are already "witnesses of the light. " Even within the memory of youngmen has it come to pass that the old wine skins of the old educationalinstitutions have been filled with the new wine of science and ofknowledge and training applied to the industries and businesses of life. 

Agriculture has perhaps been slow to feel the current of the new wineas it flows from the wine press of fast-growing industrial and socialneed. But the least hopeful of us can, I am sure, already see signs of avast awakening. The farm, as well as the pulpit, the bar, theschoolroom, the shop, the counting-room, is breathing in the new ideathat knowledge and training can be made of use to every man. 

This awakening is due not merely to the desire of agriculturists to bein fashion, nor to the efforts of agricultural pedagogues, but to a realneed. It is common knowledge that in America we have not farmed, buthave mined the soil. We have "skimmed the cream" of fertility, andpassed on to conquer new areas of virgin soil. This pioneer farming hasrequired hard work, enterprise, courage, and all the noble traits ofcharacter that have made our American pioneers famous and that havewithin a century subdued a wilderness to civilization. But the farmer oftoday faces a new situation. The fertile lands are fairly well occupied. The old lands are depleted. These old lands must be handled skilfully ifthey are to produce profitably. They must be used because there islittle else to use, and because they are near the best markets. Meantime, scientists have been studying the deep things of nature, andhave been learning the laws that govern soil, plant, and animal. Thus wehave the farmer's need met by the theorist's discoveries. The farmer, toavail himself of these discoveries must know their meaning and be ableto apply the general principle to the specific case. This meansagricultural education. 

Then again, the consumption of high-class products increases at least asrapidly as does our wealth. The demand comes not alone from the rich, but from the middle classes of our cities. Skilled artisans are largeconsumers of choice meats, fruits, and vegetables. To grow thesehigh-grade products means skill, and skill means training, and trainingin the large sense means education. 

The need for agricultural education, is, then, a real and vital one. Itis pressed upon us by economic and social conditions. It is in line withthe movement of the age. 

In discussing agricultural education, we must not forget that the farmeris also a citizen and a man. He should be an intelligent citizen, andshould therefore study questions of government. As a man, he should bethe equal of other men of his same social rank. He therefore needs agood general education. He is more than mere farmer. While as farmer hemust connect his business with its environment and out of hissurroundings gain sound culture; while he should know nature, not onlyas its master, but as its friend; he should also be in sympathy with allthat makes modern civilization worth while. And even as mere farmer, hefinds himself face to face with grave social problems. He must not onlyproduce but he must sell, and his selling powers are governed byconditions of the market, by transportation facilities and practices, and are affected by the laws of the land. Hence he must be a student ofthese problems and must know the broad phases of agriculture and itsrelations to other industries. 

No intelligent man doubts the need of agricultural education. Let us, then, say a word about the kind of education demanded. This question issettled very largely by the discussion we have just had about the needof this education. First of all, this education will give a fair masteryof the principles that govern proper soil management and plant andanimal growth. This is fundamental. The farmer is dealing with naturallaws, and he must know in them their applications. He cannot be blindto their dominance. They insist on recognition. They are jealous mastersand good servants. Nature serves only the man who obeys her. To obey hemust know. The truth shall make him free. How to secure larger crops ofbetter products at less cost and still maintain soil fertility, is thefirst demand of modern agriculture, and its solution depends in largemeasure upon education. 

But education does not stop here. The farmer is also a seller as well asa producer. He is a business man. He is manager of an industry. He is aninvestor of capital. So the question will arise, Can he get any helpfrom education in the handling of the business phases of his farm? Hecertainly can. You cannot teach a man business in the sense of supplyinghim with good sense, business judgment, ability to handle men, and soon. But you can study the general conditions that govern the business ofagriculture, and you can report the results of your researches to thepractical farmer; and he, if he is willing, may learn much that will behelpful to him in deciding the many difficult questions that confronthim as a business man. Farm administration in its largest sense will, then, be a most important phase of agricultural education. 

It is quite possible for the individual farmer to succeed admirably ifhe is equipped with a sound training in the principles of production andin farm management. But there are still larger questions that farmers asa class must meet if agriculture is to have its full success and if thefarmer himself is to occupy the social position he ought to have. Agriculture is an industry among industries. Farmers are a class amongclasses. As an industry, agriculture has relations to other industries. It is subject to economic laws. It involves something more than growingand selling. The nature of the market, railroad rates, effects of thetariff and of taxation, are questions vital to agriculture. So with thefarmers socially considered. Their opportunities for social life, theirschool facilities, their church privileges, their associations andorganizations--all these are important matters. So agriculturaleducation will not fail to call attention to these larger questions. 

The well-educated farmer will, then, be trained in three lines ofthought--first, that which deals with the growth of products; second, that which deals with the selling of products; and third, that whichdeals with agriculture as an industry and farmers as a class of people. 

We may next discuss as briefly as possible the methods by whichagricultural education may be advanced. We may not consider all of them, but rather attend only to some of those agencies that seem of peculiarinterest just at this time. 

There is one underlying requisite of successful agricultural educationthat is all-important. It is faith in agriculture. Any man to succeedgrandly must have absolute faith in his business. So the farmer mustbelieve in agriculture. Agriculture cannot attain its highest rankunless the men engaged in it believe in it most profoundly. They mustbelieve that a man can make money in farming. They must love the farmlife and surroundings. They must believe that the best days ofagriculture are ahead of us, not behind us. They must believe that mencan find in agriculture a chance to use brains and to develop talentsand to utilize education. Agricultural education rests on this faith. Give us a state filled with such farmers and we can guarantee a strongsystem of agricultural education. But the seeds of education cannot growin a soil barren of the richness of sentiment for and confidence in thefarm. Our agricultural colleges have been criticized because they havegraduated so few farmers. But the fault is not all with the colleges. The farmers also are to blame. They have not had faith enough in thefarm to advise young men to go to college to prepare for farming. Theyadmit the value of education for the law, for building railroads, butnot for farming. This must be changed, is being changed. The last tenyears have seen a revolution in this respect, and the result is a mightyincrease in agricultural educational interest. 

One powerful means of agricultural education is the farmers'organization or association. All our dairy, horticultural, poultry, andlive-stock associations are great educators. So of an organization likethe Grange, its chief work is education. It brings mind in contact withmind; it gives chance for discussion and interchange of ideas; it trainsin power of expression; it teaches the virtue of co-operation. Farmersblunder when they fail to encourage organization. Sometimes, out offoolish notions of independence, they neglect to unite their forces. They are utterly blind to their best interests when they do so. Theyshould encourage organization if for no other reason than for thesplendid educational advantages that flow from it. 

However, our chief interest is, perhaps, in those institutions that areformed purposely and especially for agricultural education and which areusually supported out of public funds. There are three great fields ofendeavor in which these institutions are working. The first step is toknow--to know the truth. So in agriculture we must know. Know what? Knowhow nature works. So the man of science studies the soil and finds outwhat plant-food it contains, how the water acts in it, what heat and airdo, and the inter-relation of all these elements. He studies the plantand its habits and tries to discover how it grows and how it can beimproved for man's use. He studies the animal and endeavors to learnwhat are the best foods for it and what laws govern its adaptation tohuman food. He studies climate and tries to find out what plants andanimals are most appropriate to different locations. He studiesinjurious insects and diseases and devises remedies for them. Hediscovers, experiments. So we have research as the first term inagricultural education. The institutions of research are our experimentstations and United States Department of Agriculture. Their work may belikened to the plowing of the field. They strive to know how natureworks, and how man can make use of her laws in the growing of plant andanimal. 

The next thing is to teach. The farmer too must know. Knowledge confinedto the scientist has little practical use. It is the farmer who can useit. Moreover, new teachers must be trained, new experimenters equipped, and leaders in every direction prepared. So we have agriculturalcolleges and schools. If experiment is to be likened to plowing, thework of the schools may be compared to sowing and cultivating. 

Agricultural colleges have been in existence in America almost fiftyyears. Their careers have been both inspiring and disappointing. Theyhave had to train their own teachers, create a body of knowledge, breakdown the bars of educational prejudice. This work has taken time. Theresults justify the time and effort. For today agricultural education isbecoming organized, the subjects of study are well planned, andcompetent men are teaching and experimenting. The disappointment istwofold. They have not graduated as many farmers as they should have. This is due not wholly to wrong notions in the colleges. It is, assuggested before, partly due to the lack of faith in agriculture on thepart of the farmers themselves. But the colleges are in part to blame. Many of them have not been in close touch with the farmers. They haveoften been out of sympathy with the interests of the farmers. They havetoo frequently been servile imitators of the traditions of the oldercolleges, instead of striking out boldly on a line of original andhelpful work for agriculture. Today, however, we see a rapid changegoing on in most of our agricultural colleges. They are seeking to helpsolve the farmers' difficulties. They are training young men for farmlife. The farmers are responding to this new interest and are beginningto have great confidence in the colleges. 

It is sometimes said that most farmers who get an agricultural educationcannot be trained in the colleges. Doubtless this is true. Probably avery small proportion even of educated farmers can or will graduate froma full course in an agricultural college. Many will do so. There is noreason why a large proportion of the graduates of our college courses inagriculture may not go to the farm. I have no sympathy with the ideathat those courses are too elaborate for those young men who want tofarm. It must be recognized, however, that even if our agriculturalcolleges shall graduate hundreds and thousands every year who return tothe farm, it still leaves the great majority of farmers untouched in aneducational way unless other means are devised. But there are othermeans at hand. 

We have first the agricultural school. The typical agricultural highschool gives a course of two or three years, offering work ofhigh-school grade in mathematics and English, with about half the timedevoted to teaching in agriculture. Many young men want to get aninsight into the principles of modern agriculture, but cannot affordtime or money for college work. This course fits their need. A splendidschool of this design has been in successful operation in Minnesota formore than a dozen years, and has nearly five hundred students. InWisconsin there are two county schools of agriculture for a similarpurpose. Other schools could be named. 

The agricultural colleges also offer shorter courses of college grade, perhaps of two years. These are very practical and useful courses. Notonly that, but nearly all the colleges give special winter courses offrom ten days to fourteen weeks. These are patronized by thousands ofyoung men. So in many ways are the colleges meeting the need. We allagree that it is desirable for a young man to take a full collegecourse, even in agriculture. But it is better to have a half-loaf thanno bread. Yes, better to have a _slice_ than no bread. The collegesfurnish the whole loaf, the half-loaf, and the slice. And young men arenourished by all. 

One reason why agricultural education has not made more rapid progressis because the children of the country schools have been taught in sucha manner as to lead them to think that there is no chance for brains infarming. Both their home influence and their school atmosphere have, inmost cases perhaps, been working against their choice of agriculture asa vocation. It therefore becomes important that these children shall beso taught that they can see the opportunity in farming. They must, moreover, be so trained that they will be nature students; for thefarmer above all men must be a nature student. So we see the need ofintroducing into our rural schools nature-study for the young pupils andelementary agriculture for the older ones. This is being successfullyaccomplished in many cases, and is arousing the greatest interest andmeeting with gratifying success. We shall within ten years have a newgeneration of young men and women ready for college who have had theireyes opened as never before to the beauties of nature and to thefascination there is in the farmer's task of using nature for his ownadvantage. 

But when we have increased the attendance at our agricultural collegestenfold; when we have hundreds of agricultural schools teachingthousands of our youth the fundamentals of agriculture; when each ruralschool in our broad land is instilling into the minds of children thenearness and beauty of nature and is teaching the young eyes to see andthe young ears to hear what God hath wrought in his many works of landand sea and sky, in soil, and plant, and living animal--even when thathappy day shall dawn will we find multitudes of men and women on ourfarms still untouched by agricultural education. These people must bereached. The mere fact that their school days are forever behind them isno reason why they shall not receive somewhat of the inspiration andguidance that flow from the schools. So we have an imperative demand forthe extension of agricultural teaching out from the schools to the farmcommunity. The school thus not only sheds its light upon those who arewithin its gates, but sets out on the beautiful errand of carrying thissame light into every farm home in the land. This work is being donetoday by thousands of farmers' institutes, by demonstrations in sprayingand in many other similar lines, by home-study courses andcorrespondence courses, by co-operative experiments, by the distributionof leaflets and bulletins, by lectures at farmers' gatherings, bytraveling schools of dairying. These methods and others like them arebeing invoked for the purpose of bringing to the farmers in their homesand neighborhoods some of the benefits that the colleges and schoolsbestow upon their pupils. 

We have seen something of the need of agricultural education, of thekind of education required, and of the means used to secure it. Does notthis discussion at least show the supreme importance of the question?Will not the farmers rally themselves to and league themselves with themen who are trying to forward the best interests of the farm? Shall wenot all work together for the betterment both of the farm and of thefarmer?

CHAPTER VII

FARMERS' INSTITUTES

A decade and a half ago, there was a vigorous campaign for theestablishment of university extension throughout the United States. Generally speaking the campaign was a losing one--with but a fewsuccesses amid general failure. But many years before this agitation, there was begun a work among farmers, which in form and spirit wasuniversity extension, and which has constantly developed until it istoday one of the most potent among the forces making for rural progress. This work has been done chiefly by what are now universally known asfarmers' institutes. 

The typical farmers' institute is a meeting usually lasting two days, held for the purpose of discussing subjects that relate to the interestsof farmers, more particularly those of a practical character. As a rule, the speakers to whom set topics are assigned are composed of twoclasses: the first class is made up of experts, either professors orexperimenters in agricultural colleges and similar institutions, orpractical farmers who have made such a study of, and such a conspicuoussuccess in, some branch of agriculture that they may well be calledexperts; the second class comprises farmers living in the locality inwhich the institute is held. The experts are expected to understandgeneral principles or methods, and the local speakers the conditionspeculiar to the neighborhood. 

The meeting usually begins in the forenoon and ends with the afternoonsession of the second day--five sessions being held. As a rule, not overtwo or three separate topics are treated in any one session, and in awell-planned institute topics of a like character are grouped together, so that there may be a fruit session, a dairy session, etc. Each topicis commonly introduced by a talk or paper of twenty to forty minutes'length. This is followed by a general discussion in which those in theaudience are invited to ask questions of the speaker relevant to thetopic under consideration, or to express opinions and give experiencesof their own. 

This is a rough outline of the average farmers' institute, but of coursethere are many variations. There are one-day meetings and there arethree-day meetings, and in recent years the one-day meetings have grownin favor; in some states local speakers take little part; in someinstitutes a question-box is a very prominent feature, in others it isomitted altogether; in some cases the evening programme is made up ofeducational topics, or of home topics, or is even arranged largely foramusement; in other instances the evening session is omitted. In mostinstitutes women are recognized through programme topics of specialinterest to them. 

It is not important to trace the early history of the farmers' institutemovement, and indeed it is not very easy to say precisely when and wherethe modern institute originated. Farmers' meetings of various sorts wereheld early in the century. As far back as 1853 the secretary of theMassachusetts Board of Agriculture recommended that farmers' institutesbe made an established means of agricultural education. By 1871 Illinoisand Iowa held meetings called farmers' institutes, itinerant incharacter, and designed to call together both experts and farmers, butneither state kept up the work systematically. Both Vermont and NewHampshire have held institutes annually since 1871, though they did notbear that name in the early years. Michigan has a unique record, havingheld regularly, since 1876, annual farmers' institutes, "so known anddesignated, " which always have contained practically the essentialfeatures of the present-day institute. The Michigan legislature passed alaw in 1861 providing for "lectures to others than students of theAgricultural College, " and has made biennial appropriations forinstitutes since 1877. Ohio, in 1881, extended the institute idea toinclude every county in the state. 

More important than the origin of the farmers' institute movement is thepresent status. Practically every state and territory in the Unioncarries on institutes under some form or other. In somewhat more thanhalf the states, the authorities of the land-grant colleges have chargeof the work. In the other states, the board of agriculture or thedepartment of agriculture has control. 

In 1905-6 there were held 3, 500 institutes, in 45 states andterritories, with a total reported attendance of 1, 300, 000 people, at acost of nearly $350, 000. The work is largely supported by the statetreasuries, some of the states showing a most generous spirit. Theannual state appropriations for the work in leading institute states areas follows: Pennsylvania, $20, 500; New York, $20, 000; Minnesota, $18, 000; Illinois, $17, 150; Ohio, $16, 747; Wisconsin, $12, 000; Indiana, $10, 000. In these states practically every county has annually from oneto five institutes. 

Institutes in no two states are managed in the same way, but the systemhas fitted itself to local notions and perhaps to local needs. A roughdivision may be made--those states which have some form of centralcontrol and those which do not have. Even among states having a centralmanagement are found all degrees of centralization; Wisconsin and Ohiomay be taken as the extremes. In Wisconsin the director of institutes, who is an employee of the university, has practically complete charge ofthe institutes. He assigns the places where the meetings are to be held, basing his decision upon the location of former institutes in thevarious counties, upon the eagerness which the neighborhoods seem tomanifest toward securing the institute, etc. He arranges the programmefor each meeting, suiting the topics and speakers to local needs, prepares advertising materials, and sets the dates of the meeting. Alocal correspondent looks after a proper hall for meeting, distributesthe advertising posters, and bears a certain responsibility for thesuccess of the institute. Meetings are arranged in series, and a corpsof two or three lecturers is sent by the director upon a week's tour. One of these lecturers is called a conductor. He usually presides overthe institute and keeps the discussions in proper channels. Practicemakes him an expert. The state lecturers do most of the talking. Localspeakers do not bear any large share in the programme. Questions arefreely asked, however. 

Ohio has an institute society in each county, and this society largelycontrols its own institutes. The secretary of the State Board ofAgriculture, who has charge of the system, assigns dates and speakers toeach institute. After that everything is in the hands of the localsociety, which chooses the topics to be presented by the state speakers, advertises the meeting, and the society president acts as presidingofficer. Local speakers usually occupy half the time. 

It does not seem as if either of these plans in its entirety wereideal--the one an extreme of centralized control, the other an extremeof local management. Yet in practice both plans work well. No states inthe Union have better institutes nor better results from institute workthan Wisconsin and Ohio. Skill, intelligence, and tact count for morethan particular institutions. 

New York may be said to follow the Wisconsin plan. Minnesota goes even astep farther; instead of holding several series of institutessimultaneously in different parts of the state, attended by different"crews, " the whole corps of state speakers attends every institute. Noset programmes are arranged. Everything depends upon local conditions. This system is expensive, but under present guidance very effective. Michigan, Indiana, and Pennsylvania have adopted systems which are amean between the plan of centralization and the plan of localization. Illinois has a plan admirably designed to encourage local interest, while providing for central management. 

Few other states have carried institute work so far as the statesalready named, and in some cases there seems to be a prejudice against awell-centralized and fully-developed system--a feeling that eachlocality may be self-sufficing in institute work. But this attitude iswearing away, for experience serves to demonstrate fully the value ofsystem. The danger of centralization is bureaucracy; but in institutework, if the management fails to provide for local needs, and to furnishacceptable speakers, vigorous protests soon correct the aberration. 

It has been stated that in America we have no educational _system_--thatspontaneity is the dominant feature of American education. This iscertainly true of farmers' institutes. So it has transpired thatnumerous special features have come in to use in variousstates--features of value and interest. It may be worth while to suggestsome of the more characteristic of these features, without attempting anexact category. 

Formerly the only way in which women were recognized at the instituteswas by home and social topics on the programme, though women have alwaysattended the meetings freely. Some years ago Minnesota and Wisconsinadded women speakers to their list of state speakers, and in the case ofWisconsin, at least, held a separate session for women, simultaneouslywith one or two sessions of the regular institute, with demonstrationlectures in cooking as the chief features. Michigan holds "women'ssections" in connection with institutes, but general topics are takenup. In Ontario separate women's institutes have been organized. InIllinois a State Association of Domestic Science has grown out of theinstitutes. Thus institute work has broadened to the advantage of farmwomen. 

At many institutes there are exhibits of farm and domestic products--asort of midwinter fair. Oftentimes the merchants of the town in whichthe institute is held offer premiums as an inducement to the farmers. 

In Wisconsin an educational feature of much value takes the form ofstock-judging--usually at the regular autumn fairs. The judges givetheir reasons for their decisions, thus emphasizing the qualities thatgo to make up a perfect or desirable animal. 

In several states there is held an annual state institute called a"round-up, " "closing institute, " or the like. It is intended to be alargely attended and representative state convention of agriculturists, for the purpose of discussing topics of general interest to men andwomen from the farms. These meetings are frequently very large andenthusiastic gatherings. 

The county institute society is a part of the organization in someinstances very well developed. It gives permanency to the work andarouses local interest and pride. 

The development of men and women into suitable state speakers is aninteresting phase. As a rule the most acceptable speakers are men whohave made a success in some branch of farming, and who also havecultivated the gift of clear and simple expression. Not a few of thesemen become adepts in public speaking and achieve a reputation outside oftheir own states. In several states there is held a "normalinstitute"--an autumn meeting lasting a week or two weeks, and bringingtogether, usually at the state college of agriculture, the men who areto give the lectures at the institutes of the winter to follow. Theobject of the gathering is to bring the lecturers into close contactwith the latest things in agricultural science, and to train them formore effective work. 

A few years ago the United States Department of Agriculture employed anexperienced institute director to give all his time to the study andpromotion of farmers' institutes. This incident is suggestive of theimportant place which institutes have secured in the work for betterfarming. 

The results of a generation of institute work are not easy to summarize. It is safe to make a broad generalization by asserting that this formof agricultural education has contributed in a remarkable degree tobetter farming. The best methods of farming have been advocated from theinstitute platform. Agricultural college professors, and agriculturalexperimenters have talked of the relations of science to practicalfarming. The farmers have come to depend upon the institute as a meansfor gaining up-to-date information. 

And if institutes have informed, they have also done what is stillbetter--they have inspired. They have gone into many a dormant farmcommunity and awakened the whole neighborhood to a quicker life. Theyhave started discussions, set men thinking, brought in a breath of freshair. They have given to many a farmer an opportunity forself-development as a ready speaker. 

Other educational agencies, such as the agricultural colleges andexperiment stations, have profited by institutes. No one thing has donemore than the institutes to popularize agricultural education, to stirup interest in the colleges, to make the farmers feel in touch with thescientists. 

Farmers' institutes are a phase of university extension, and it is as apart of the extension movement that they are bound to increase in valueand importance. Reading-courses and correspondence-courses are growingfactors in this extension movement, but the power of the spoken word isguarantee that the farmers' institute cannot be superseded in fact. Andit is worth noting again, that while university extension has not beenthe success in this country which its friends of a decade ago fondlyprophesied for it, its humbler cousin--agricultural collegeextension--has been a conspicuous success, and is acquiring a constantlyincreasing power among the educational agencies that are trying to dealwith the farm problem. 

CHAPTER VIII

THE HESPERIA MOVEMENT

The gulf between parent and teacher is too common a phenomenon to needexposition. The existence of the chasm is probably due more tocarelessness, to the pressure of time, or to indolence than to any moreserious delinquencies; yet all will admit the disastrous effects thatflow from the fact that there is not the close intellectual andspiritual sympathy that there should be between the school and the home. It needs no argument to demonstrate the value of any movement that hasfor its purpose the bridging of the gulf. But it is an omen ofencouragement to find that there are forces at work designed to bringteacher and school patron into a closer working harmony. A statement ofthe history and methods of some of these agencies may therefore wellhave a place in a discussion of rural progress. For the movements to bedescribed are essentially rural-school movements. Of first interest isan attempt which has been made in the state of Michigan to bridge thegulf--to create a common standing-ground for both teacher andparent--and on that basis to carry on an educational campaign that it ishoped will result in the many desirable conditions which, a priori, might be expected from such a union. At present the movement is confinedpractically to the rural schools. It consists in the organization of acounty Teachers and Patrons' Association, with a membership of teachersand school patrons, properly officered. Its chief method of work is tohold one or more meetings a year, usually in the country or in smallvillages, and the programme is designed to cover educational questionsin such a way as to be of interest and profit to both teachers andfarmers. 

This movement was indigenous to Michigan--its founders worked out thescheme on their own initiative, and to this day its promoters have neverdrawn upon any resources outside the state for suggestion or plan. Butif the friends of rural education elsewhere shall be attracted by thismethod of solving one of the vexed phases of their problem, I hope thatthey will describe it as "the Hesperia movement. " For the movementoriginated in Hesperia, was developed there, and its entire success inHesperia was the reason for its further adoption. Hesperia deserves anyrenown that may chance to come from the widespread organization ofTeachers and Patrons' Associations. 

And where is Hesperia? It lies about forty miles north and west of GrandRapids--a mere dot of a town, a small country village at least twelve orfifteen miles from any railroad. It is on the extreme eastern side ofOceana County, surrounded by fertile farming lands, which have beenpopulated by a class of people who may be taken as a type ofprogressive, successful, intelligent American farmers. Many of them areof Scotch origin. Partly because of their native energy, partly, perhaps, because their isolation made it necessary to develop their owninstitutions, these people believe in and support good schools, theGrange, and many progressive movements. 

For several years there had existed in Oceana County the usual countyteachers' association. But, because Hesperia was so far from the centerof the county, and because it was not easily accessible, the teacherswho taught schools in the vicinity could rarely secure a meeting of theassociation at Hesperia; and in turn they found it difficult to attendthe meetings held in the western part of the county. A few years ago itchanced that this group of teachers was composed of especially bright, energetic, and original young men and women. They determined to have anassociation of their own. It occurred to someone that it would addstrength to their organization if the farmers were asked to meet withthem. The idea seemed to "take, " and the meetings became quite popular. This was during the winter of 1885-86. Special credit for this earlyventure belongs to Mr. E. L. Brooks, still of Hesperia and anex-president of the present association, and to Dr. C. N. Sowers, ofBenton Harbor, Mich. , who was one of the teachers during the winternamed, and who was elected secretary of the Board of School Examiners in1887. Mr. Brooks writes:

 The programmes were so arranged that the participants in discussions and in the reading of papers were about equally divided between teachers and patrons. An active interest was awakened from the start. For one thing, it furnished a needed social gathering during the winter for the farmers. The meetings were held on Saturdays, and the schoolhouse favored was usually well filled. The meetings were not held at any one schoolhouse, but were made to circulate among the different schools. These gatherings were so successful that similar societies were organized in other portions of the country. 

In 1892, Mr. D. E. McClure, who has since (1896-1900) been deputysuperintendent of public instruction of Michigan, was electedcounty-school commissioner of Oceana County. Mr. McClure is a man ofgreat enthusiasm and made a most successful commissioner. He conceivedthe idea that this union of teachers and patrons could be made of thegreatest value, in stimulating both teachers and farmers to renewedinterest in the real welfare of the children as well as a means ofsecuring needed reforms. His first effort was to prepare a list of bookssuitable for pupils in all grades of the rural schools. He also prepareda rural lecture-course, as well as a plan for securing libraries for theschools. All these propositions were adopted by a union meeting ofteachers and farmers. His next step was to unite the interests ofeastern Oceana County and western Newaygo County (Newaygo lying directlyeast of Oceana), and in 1893 there was organized the "Oceana and NewaygoCounties Joint Grangers and Teachers' Association, " the word "Granger"being inserted because of the activity of the Grange in support of themovement. Mr. McClure has pardonable pride in this effort of his, andhis own words will best describe the development of the movement:

 This association meets Thursday night and continues in session until Saturday night. Some of the best speakers in America have addressed the association. Dr. Arnold Tompkins, in speaking before the association, said it was a wonderful association and the only one of its character in the United States. 

 What was my ideal in organizing such associations?

 1. To unite the farmers who pay the taxes that support the schools, the home-makers, the teachers, the pupils, into a co-operative work for better rural-school education. 

 2. To give wholesome entertainment in the rural districts, which from necessity are more or less isolated. 

 3. To create a taste for good American literature in home and school, and higher ideals of citizenship. 

 4. Summed up in all, to make the rural schools character-builders, to rid the districts of surroundings which destroy character, such as unkept school yards, foul, nasty outhouses, poor, unfit teachers. These reforms, you understand, come only through a healthy educational sentiment which is aroused by a sympathetic co-operation of farm, home, and school. 

 What results have I been able to discover growing out of this work? Ideals grow so slowly that one cannot measure much progress in a few years. We are slaves to conditions, no matter how hard, and we suffer them to exist rather than arouse ourselves and shake them off. The immediate results are better schools, yards, out-buildings, schoolrooms, teachers, literature for rural people to read. 

 Many a father and mother whose lives have been broken upon the wheel of labor have heard some of America's orators, have read some of the world's best books, because of this movement, and their lives have been made happier, more influential, more hopeful. 

 Thousands of people have been inspired, made better, at the Hesperia meetings. 

In western Michigan the annual gathering at Hesperia is known far andwide as "the big meeting. " The following extract from the Michigan_Moderator-Topics_ indicates in the editor's breezy way the impressionthe meeting for 1906 made upon an observer:

 Hesperia scores another success. Riding over the fourteen miles from the railroad to Hesperia with Governor Warner and D. E. McClure, we tried to make the latter believe that the crowd would not be forthcoming on that first night of the fourteenth annual "big meeting. " It was zero weather and mighty breezy. For such a movement to succeed two years is creditable, to hold out for five is wonderful, to last ten is marvelous, but to grow bigger and better for fourteen years is a little short of miraculous. McClure is recognized as the father of the movement and his faith didn't waver a hair's breadth. And sure enough there was the crowd--standing room only, to hear the governor and see the great cartoonist J. T. McCutcheon of the _Chicago Tribune_. For three evenings and two days the big hall is crowded with patrons, pupils and teachers from the towns and country round. During the fourteen years that these meetings have been held, the country community has heard some of the world's greatest speakers. The plan has been adopted by other counties in Michigan and other states both east and west. Its possibilities are well-nigh unlimited and its power for good is immeasurable. Everyone connected with it may well feel proud of the success attending the now famous "Hesperia Movement. "

In 1897, Kent County, Michigan (of which Grand Rapids is the countyseat), organized a Teachers and Patrons' Association that is worth abrief description, although in more recent years its work has beenperformed by other agencies. It nevertheless serves as a good example ofa well-organized association designed to unite the school and homeinterests of rural communities. It was for several years signallysuccessful in arousing interest in all parts of the county. Besides, itmade a departure from the Oceana-Newaygo plan which must be consideredadvantageous for most counties. The Hesperia meeting is an annualaffair, with big crowds and abundant enthusiasm. The Kent Countyassociation was itinerant. The membership included teachers, schoolofficers, farmers generally, and even pupils. An attempt was made tohold monthly meetings during the school year, but for various reasonsonly five or six meetings a year were held. The meetings usuallyoccurred in some Grange hall, the Grange furnishing entertainment forthe guests. There were usually three sessions--Friday evening andSaturday forenoon and afternoon. The average attendance was nearly fivehundred, about one-tenth being teachers; many teachers as well asfarmers went considerable distances to attend. 

The Kent County association did not collect any fees from its members, the Teachers' Institute fund of the county being sufficient to providefor the cost of lectures at the association meetings. Permission forthis use of the fund was obtained from the state superintendent ofpublic instruction. Some counties have a membership fee; at Hesperia, the fee is 50 cents, and a membership ticket entitles its holder to areserved seat at all sessions. The Kent County association alsosuggested a reading-course for its members. 

The success of the work in Kent County was due primarily to the factthat the educators and the farmers and their leaders are in especiallyclose sympathy. And right there is the vital element of success in thiswork. The initiative must be taken by the educators, but the plan mustbe thoroughly democratic, and teacher and farmer must be equallyrecognized in all particulars. The results of the work in Kent Countywere thus summarized by the commissioner of schools of the county:

 To teachers, the series of meetings is a series of mid-year institutes. Every argument in favor of institutes applies with all its force to these associations. To farmers they afford a near-by lecture course, accessible to all members of the family, and of as high grade as those maintained in the larger villages. To the schools, the value is in the general sentiment and interest awakened. The final vote on any proposed school improvement is taken at the annual school meeting, and the prevailing sentiment in the neighborhood has everything to do with this vote. And not only this, but the general interest of patrons may help and cheer both teacher and pupils throughout the year. On the other hand, indifference and neglect may freeze the life out of the most promising school. There is no estimating the value to the schools in this respect. 

The Kent County association had a very simple constitution. It isappended here for the benefit of any who may desire to begin thisbeneficent work of endeavoring to draw more closely together ruralschools and country homes. 

 ARTICLE I. --NAME

 This association shall be known as "The Kent County Teachers and Patrons' Association. "

 ARTICLE II. --MEMBERSHIP

 Any person may become a member of this association by assenting to this constitution and paying the required membership fee. 

 ARTICLE III. --OBJECTS

 The object of this association shall be the promotion of better educational facilities in all ways and the encouragement of social and intellectual culture among its members. 

 ARTICLE IV. --MEETINGS

 At least five meetings of the association shall be held each year, during the months of October, November, January, February, and March, the dates and places of meetings to be determined and announced by the executive committee. Special meetings may be called at the election of the executive committee. 

 ARTICLE V. --OFFICERS

 SECTION 1. The officers of the association shall be a president, a vice-president, a secretary, a treasurer, and an executive committee composed of five members to be appointed by the president. 

 SEC. 2. The election of officers shall occur at the regular meeting of the association in the month of October. 

 SEC. 3. The duties of each officer shall be such as parliamentary usage assigns, respectively, according to Cushing's Manual. 

 SEC. 4. It shall be the duty of the executive committee to arrange a schedule of meetings and to provide suitable lecturers and instructors for the same on or before the first day of September of each year. It shall be the further duty of this committee to devise means to defray the expenses incurred for lecturers and instructors. All meetings shall be public, and no charge for admission shall be made, except by order of the executive committee. 

 ARTICLE VI. --COURSE OF READING

 SECTION 1. The executive committee may also recommend a course of reading to be pursued by members, and it shall be their duty to make such other recommendations from time to time as shall have for their object the more effective carrying out of the purposes of the association. 

Whether the Oceana County plan of a set annual meeting or the KentCounty plan of numerous itinerant meetings is the better one dependsmuch on the situation. It is not improbable that itinerant meetings, with an annual "round-up" meeting of the popular type as the great eventof the school year, would be very satisfactory. 

Other counties in the state have taken up the Hesperia idea. In somecases associations similar to the Kent County association have beendeveloped. More recently the work has frequently been carried on by thecounty commissioner of schools directly. "Institutes on wheels" havebecome a factor in the campaign for better rural schools. Onecommissioner writes:

 My aim has been to bring into very close relationship teachers, patrons, and pupils. This is done, in part, in the following manner: I engage, for a week's work at a time, some educator of state or national reputation to ride with me on my visitation of schools. Through the day, schools are visited, pupils' work inspected, and in the evening, a rally is held in the locality visited in that day. A circuit is made during the week, and Friday evening and the Saturday following a general round-up is held. The results of this work have been far reaching. Teachers, patrons, and pupils are brought into close relationship and a higher standard of education is developed. 

The form of organization matters little. The essential idea of the"Hesperia movement" was to bring together the teacher and the schoolpatron on a common platform, to a common meeting-place, to discusssubjects of common interest. This idea must be vitalized in the ruralcommunity before that progress in rural-school matters which we desireshall become a fact. 

It is only fair to say that administrators of rural-school systems inseveral states are attempting in one way or another, and have done sofor some years, to bring together teachers and school patrons. In Iowathere are mothers' clubs organized for the express purpose of promotingthe best interests of the schools. In many of the communities the countysuperintendent organizes excursions, and holds school contests which arelargely attended by patrons of the schools. 

Ohio has what is known as the "Ohio School Improvement Federation. " Itsobjects are: (1) to create a wholesome educational sentiment in thecitizenship of the state; (2) to remove the school from partisanpolitics; (3) to make teaching a profession, protected and justlycompensated. County associations of the federation are being organizedand the effort is being made to reach the patrons of the schools and tocreate the right public sentiment. In many of the teachers' institutesthere is one session devoted entirely to subjects that are of specialinterest to the school-board members and to the patrons of the schools. Educational rallies are held in many of the townships, at which effortis made to get together all the citizens and have an exhibit of schoolwork. 

In Minnesota, a law was passed recently to the effect that schoolofficers within a county may attend one educational convention a yearupon call of the county superintendent. They receive therefor, threedollars for one day's services and five cents mileage each way forattendance. Already a number of very successful conventions have beenheld, wherein all school districts in the counties have beenrepresented. 

The county institutes in Pennsylvania are largely attended by the publicand are designed to reach patrons as well as teachers. 

In Kansas, county superintendents have organized school-patrons'associations and school-board associations, both of which definitelypurpose to bring together the school and the home and the officers ofthe school into one body and to co-operate with individuals for thepurpose of bettering the school conditions. 

Doubtless other states are carrying on similar methods. 

An interesting movement wholly independent of the Hesperia plan hasrecently been put into operation under the leadership of Principal MyronT. Scudder of the State Normal School, New Paltz, N. Y. He has organizeda series of country-school conferences. They grew out of a recognizedneed, but were an evolution rather than a definite scheme. The schoolcommissioner, the teachers, and the Grange people of the community havejoined in making up the conference. An attempt is also made to interestthe pupils. At one conference there was organized an athletic league forthe benefit of the boys of the country school. The practical phases ofnature-study and manual training are treated on the programme, and atleast one session is made a parents' meeting. There is no organizationwhatever. 

Dr. A. E. Winship, of the _Journal of Education_, Boston, had thefollowing editorial in the issue of June 21, 1906:

 It is now fourteen years since D. E. McClure spoke into being the Hesperia movement, which is a great union of educational and farmer forces, in a midwinter Chautauqua, as it were. Twelve miles from the railroad, in the slight village of Hesperia, a one-street village, one side of the street being in one county and the other side in another, for three days and evenings in midwinter each year, in a ramshackle building, eight hundred people from all parts of the two counties sit in reserved seats, for which they pay a good price, and listen to one or two notable speakers and a number of local functionaries. One-half of the time is devoted to education and the other to farm interests. 

 It is a great idea, well worked out, and after fourteen years it maintains its lustiness, but I confess to disappointment that the idea has not spread more extensively. It is so useful there, and the idea is so suggestive, that it should have been well-nigh universal, and yet despite occasional bluffs at it, I know of no serious effort to adopt it elsewhere, unless the midwinter meeting at Shelby, in one of these two counties, can be considered a spread of the idea. This child of the Hesperia movement, in one of the two counties, and only twenty miles away, had this year many more in attendance than have ever been at Hesperia. 

This work of uniting more closely the interests, sympathies, andintelligence of the teachers and patrons of the rural school has had atest in Michigan of sufficient length to prove that it is a practicablescheme. No one questions the desirability of the ends it is prepared tocompass, and experience in Michigan shows not only that where theeducators have sufficient enterprise, tact, enthusiasm, and persistencethe necessary organizations can be perfected, but that substantialresults follow. For the sake of better rural schools, then, it issincerely to be hoped that the "Hesperia movement" may find expressionin numerous teachers and patrons' associations in at least the greatagricultural states. 

CHAPTER IX

THE RURAL SCHOOL AND THE COMMUNITY

Among the great phenomena of our time is the growth of the schoolidea--the realization of the part that the school plays in ourcivilization and in the training of our youth for life. Our New Englandfathers started the school in order that their children might learn toread the Scriptures, and thus that they might get right ideas of theirreligious duty. Even after this aim was outgrown, our schools forgenerations did little more than to teach the use of the mere tools ofknowledge; to read, to write, and to cipher were the great gains of theschoolroom. Even geography and grammar were rather late arrivals. Thencame the idea that the school should train children for citizenship, andit was argued that the chief reason why schools should be supported atpublic expense was in order that good citizens should be trained there. History and civil government were put into the course in obedience tothis theory. Another step was taken when physiology was added, becauseit was an acknowledgment that the schools should do something to trainyouth in the individual art of living. Still another step was taken whenmanual training and domestic science were brought into our city schools, because these studies emphasize the fact that the schools must dosomething to train workers. And finally we have at present the ideagaining a strong foothold that the schools must train the child to fillits place in the world of men; to see all the relations of life; to befitted to live in human society. This idea really embraces all of theother ideas. It implies that the schools shall not only teach eachindividual the elements of knowledge, that they shall train forcitizenship, that they shall train men in the art of living, that theyshall aid in preparing for an occupation, but that they shall do _all_of these things, and do them not merely for the good of the individual, but for the good of society as a whole. 

And not only is there a feeling that the pupil in school can be broughtinto closer touch with the life of the community, but that the school asan institution can be made more useful to the community as a whole. Thisdouble thought has been expressed in the phrase, "Make the school asocial center, " and practically it is being slowly worked out innumerous city schools. How far can this idea be developed in the countryschool?

The purpose of this chapter is not to deal in the theory of the subject, nor to argue particularly for this view of the function of the school, but rather to try to show some methods by which the rural school and thefarm community actually can be brought into closer relations. In thisway we may perhaps indicate that there is a better chance forco-operation between the rural school and the farm community than wehave been accustomed to believe, and that this closer relation is worthstriving for. Five methods will be suggested by which the rural schoolcan become a social center. Some of these have already been tried inrural communities, some of them have been tried in cities, and some ofthem have not been tried at all. 

1. The first means of making the rural school a social center is throughthe course of study. It is here that the introduction of nature-studyinto our rural schools would be especially helpful. This nature-studywhen properly followed approves itself both to educators and to farmers. It is a pedagogical principle recognized by every modern teacher that ineducation it is necessary to consider the environment of the child, sothat the school may not be to him "a thing remote and foreign. " Thevalue of nature-study is recognized not only in thus making possible anintelligent study of the country child's environment, but in teaching alove of nature, in giving habits of correct observation, and inpreparing for the more fruitful study of science in later years. Ourbest farmers are also coming to see that nature-study in the ruralschools is a necessity, because it will tend to give a knowledge of thelaws that govern agriculture, because it will teach the children to lovethe country, because it will show the possibilities of living anintellectual life upon the farm. Nature-study, therefore, will have avery direct influence in bringing the child into close touch with thewhole life of the farm community. 

But it is not so much a matter of introducing new studies--the oldstudies can be taught in such a way as to make them seem vital andhuman. Take, for instance, geography. It used to be approached from thestandpoint of the solar system. It now begins with the schoolhouse andthe pupils' homes, and works outward from the things that the child seesand knows to the things that it must imagine. History, writing, reading, the sciences, and even other subjects can be taught so as toconnect them vitally and definitely with the life of the farm community. To quote Colonel Parker, who suggests the valuable results of such amethod of teaching:

 It would make a strong, binding union of the home and the school, the farm methods and the school methods. It would bring the farm into the school and project the school into the farm. It would give parent and teacher one motive in the carrying out of which both could heartily join. The parent would appreciate and judge fairly the work of the school, the teacher would honor, dignify and elevate the work of the farm. 

The study of the landscape of the near-by country, the study of thestreams, the study of the soils, studies that have to do with thelocation of homes, of villages, the study of the weather, of the commonplants, of domestic animals--all of these things will give the child abetter start in education, a better comprehension of the life he is tolive, a better idea of the business of farming, a better notion aboutthe importance of agriculture, and will tend to fit him better forfuture life either on the farm or anywhere else, than could any amountof the old-fashioned book knowledge. Is it not a strange fact that somany farmers will decry book knowledge when applied to the business offarming, and at the same time set so much store by the book learningthat is given in the common arithmetic, the old-fashioned reader, andthe dry grammar of the typical school? Of course anyone pleading forthis sort of study in the rural schools must make it clear that theordinary accomplishments of reading, writing, and ciphering are not tobe neglected. As a matter of fact, pupils under this method can be justas well trained in these branches as under the old plan. The point to beemphasized, however, is that a course of study constructed on thistheory will tend to bring the school and the community closer together, will make the school of more use to the community, will give thecommunity more interest in the school, while at the same time it willbetter prepare pupils to do their work in life. 

2. A second way of making the rural school a social center is throughthe social activities of the pupils. This means that the pupils as abody can co-operate for certain purposes, and that this co-operationwill not only secure some good results of an immediate character, results that can be seen and appreciated by everyone, but that it willteach the spirit of co-operation--and there is hardly anything moreneeded today in rural life than this spirit of co-operation. The schoolscan perform no better service than in training young people to worktogether for common ends. In this work such things as special dayprogrammes, as for Arbor Day, Washington's Birthday, Pioneer Day; theholding of various school exhibitions; the preparation of exhibits forcounty fairs, and similar endeavors, are useful and are being carriedout in many of our rural schools. But the best example of this work is aplan that is being used in the state of Maine, and is performed throughthe agency of what is called a School Improvement League. The purposesof the league are: (1) to improve school grounds and buildings; (2) tofurnish suitable reading-matter for pupils and people; (3) to provideworks of art for schoolrooms. There are three forms of the league, thelocal leagues organized in each school; the town leagues, whosemembership consists of the officers of the local leagues; and a stateleague, whose members are delegates from the town leagues and members ofthe local leagues who hold school diplomas. Any pupil, teacher, schoolofficer, or any other citizen may join the league on payment of thedues. The minimum dues are one cent a month for each pupil, for othermembers not less than ten cents a term. But these dues may be madelarger by vote of the league. Each town league sends a delegate to themeeting of the state league. Each league has the usual number ofofficers elected for one term. These leagues were first organized in1898 and they have already accomplished much. They have induced schoolcommittees to name various rural schools for distinguished Americancitizens, as Washington, Lincoln, and so forth. They give exhibitionsand entertainments for the purpose of raising funds. Sometimes they usethese funds to buy books for the schoolroom. The books are then loanedto the members of the league; at the end of the term this set of booksis exchanged for another set of books from another school in the sametownship. In this way, at a slight expense, each school may have the useof a large number of books every year. The same thing is done withpictures and works of art, these being purchased and exchanged in thesame way. Through the efforts of the league schoolhouses have beenimproved, inside and out, and the school grounds improved. It is not somuch the doing of new things that has been attempted by this league. The important item is that the school has been _organized_ for thesedefinite purposes, and the work is carried on systematically from yearto year. It needs no argument to show the value of this sort ofco-operation to the pupil, to the teacher, to the school, to theparents, and ultimately to the community as a whole. 

3. A third method is through co-operation between the home and theschool, between the teacher and pupils on one side, and parents andtaxpayers on the other side. Parents sometimes complain that the averageschool is a sort of mill, or machine, into which their children areplaced and turned out just so fast, and in just such condition. But ifthis is the case, it is partly the fault of the parents who do not keepin close enough touch with the work of the school. It is not thatparents are not interested in their children, but it is rather that theylook at the school as something separate from the ordinary affairs oflife. Now, nothing can be more necessary than that this notion should bedone away with. There must be the closest co-operation between the homeand school. How can this co-operation be brought about? Frequentlyparents are urged to visit the schools. This is all right and proper, but it is not enough. There must be a closer relation than this. Theteacher must know more about the home life of her pupils, and theparents must know far more about the whole purpose and spirit, as wellas the method, of the school. A great deal of good has been done by thejoint meeting of teachers and school officers. It is a very wise device, and should be kept up. But altogether the most promising developmentalong this line is the so-called "Hesperia movement, " described inanother chapter. These meetings of school patrons and teachers take upthe work of the school in a way that will interest both teachers andfarmers. They bring the teachers and farmers into closer touch sociallyand intellectually. They disperse fogs of misunderstanding. They inspireto closer co-operation. They create mutual sympathy. They are sure toresult in bringing the teacher into closer touch with community life andwith the social problems of the farm. And they are almost equally sureto arouse the interest of the entire community, not only in the schoolas an institution and in the possibilities of the work it may do, butalso in the work of that teacher who is for the time being serving aparticular rural school. 

4. A fourth method is by making the schoolhouse a meeting-place for thecommunity, more especially for the intellectual and aesthetic activitiesof the community. A good example of this kind of work is the John SprySchool of Chicago. In connection with this school there is a lecturecourse each winter; there is a musical society that meets every Tuesdayevening; there is a men's club that meets every two weeks to discussmunicipal problems and the improvement of home conditions; there is awoman's club to study for general improvement and social service; thereis a mothers' council meeting every two weeks; there is a literary anddramatic society, meeting every week, composed of members of high-schoolage, and studying Shakespeare particularly; there is a dressmaking andaid society meeting two evenings a week, to study the cutting ofpatterns, garment-making, etc. ; a food-study and cooking club, alsomeeting two evenings a week; an inventive and mechanical club, meetingtwo evenings a week, and tending to develop the inventive and mechanicalgenius of a group of young men; an art club; and a boy's club, withmusic, games, reading-lessons, reading of books and magazines, intendedfor boys of fourteen or fifteen years of age. These things are allunder the direction of the school, they are free, they are designed toeducate. It will not be feasible for the rural school to carry out sucha programme as this, but do we realize how large are the possibilitiesof this idea of making the rural school a community center? No doubt oneof the advantages of the centralized rural school will be to give acentral meeting-place for the township, and to encourage work of thecharacter that has been described. Of course, the Grange and farmers'clubs are doing much along these lines, but is it not possible for thedistrict school also to do some useful work of this character?Singing-schools and debating clubs were quite a common thing in therural schools forty years ago, and there are many rural schools todaythat are doing work of this very kind. Is there any reason, for example, why the country schoolhouse should not offer an evening school during aportion of the winter, where the older pupils who have left the regularwork of the school can carry on studies, especially in agriculture anddomestic science? There is need for this sort of thing, and if ouragricultural colleges, and the departments of public instruction, andthe local school supervisors, and the country teachers, and the farmersthemselves, could come a little closer together on these questions thething could be done!

5. Fifth and last, as a method for making the school a social center, isthe suggestion that the teacher herself shall become something of aleader in the farm community. The teacher ought to be not only a teacherof the pupils, but in some sense a teacher of the community. Is therenot need that someone should take the lead in inspiring everyone in thecommunity to read better books, to buy better pictures, to take moreinterest in the things that make for culture and progress? There arespecial difficulties in a country community. The rural teacher isusually a transient; she secures a city school as soon as she can; sheis often poorly paid; she is sometimes inexperienced; frequently thelabor of the school absorbs all her time and energy. Unfortunately thesethings are so, but they ought not to be so. And we shall never have theideal rural school until we have conditions favorable to the kind ofwork just described. The country teacher ought to understand the countrycommunity, ought to have some knowledge of the problems that the farmershave to face, ought to have some appreciation of the peculiarconditions of farm life. Every teacher should have some knowledge ofrural sociology. The normal schools should make this subject a requiredsubject in the course, especially for country teachers. Teachers'institutes and reading-circles should in some way provide this sort ofthing. This is one of the most important means of bringing the ruralschool into closer touch with the farm community. Ten years ago HenrySabin, of Iowa, one of the keenest students of the rural-school problem, in speaking of the supervision of country schools, said:

 The supervisor of rural schools should be acquainted with the material resources of his district. He should know not only what constitutes good farming, but the prevailing industry of the region should be so familiar to him that he can converse intelligently with the inhabitants, and convince them that he knows something besides books. The object is not alone to gain influence over them, but to bring the school into touch with the home life of the community about. It is not to invite the farmer to the school, but to take the school to the farm, and to show the pupils that here before their eyes are the foundations upon which have been built the great natural sciences. 

The programme needed to unite rural school and farm community is then, first, to enrich the course of study by adding nature-study andagriculture, and about these co-ordinating the conventional schoolsubjects; second, to encourage the co-operation of the pupils, especially for the improvement of the school and its surroundings;third, to bring together for discussion and acquaintance the teachersand the patrons of the school; fourth, so far as possible to make theschoolhouse a meeting-place for the community, for young people as wellas for older people, where music, art, social culture, literature, studyof farming, and in fact, anything that has to do with rural education, may be fostered; and fifth, to expect the teacher to have a knowledge ofthe industrial and general social conditions of agriculture, especiallythose of the community in which her lot is cast. 

CHAPTER X

THE GRANGE

The difficulty of uniting the farmers of America for any form ofco-operative endeavor long ago became proverbial. The business offarming encouraged individualism; comparative isolation bredindependence; and restricted means of communication made unionphysically difficult, even among those who might be disposed to unite. It was not strange, therefore, that the agricultural masses developed astate of mind unfavorable for organization--that they became suspiciousof one another, jealous of leadership, unwilling to keep the pledges ofunion, and unable to sink personal views and prejudices. 

It must not be supposed, however, that the farmers themselves havefailed to realize the situation, or that no genuinely progressive stepshave been taken to remedy it. During the last four decades at least, thestrongest men that the rural classes have produced have labored withtheir fellows, both in season and out of season, for union of effort;and their efforts have been by no means in vain. It is true that some ofthe attempts at co-operation have been ill-judged, even fantastic. Itis true that much of the machinery of organization failed to work andcan be found on the social junk-pile, in company with other discardedimplements not wholly rural in origin. But it is also true that greatprogress has been made; that the spirit of co-operation is rapidlyemerging as a factor in rural social life; and that the weapons of ruralorganization have a temper all the better, perhaps, because they werefashioned on the anvil of defeat. 

Among all these efforts to unite the farming classes, by far the mostcharacteristic and the most successful is the Grange. The truth of thisstatement will immediately be questioned by those whose memory recallsthe early rush to the Grange, "Granger legislation, " and similarphenomena, as well as by those whose impressions have been gleaned fromreading the periodicals of the late seventies, when the Grange tide hadbegun to ebb. Indeed, it seems to be the popular impression that theGrange is not at present a force of consequence, that long ago it becamea cripple, if not a corpse. Only a few years ago, an intelligentmagazine writer, in discussing the subject of farmers' organizations, made the statement, "The Grange is dead. " But the assertion was nottrue. The popular impression must be revised. The Grange hasaccomplished more for agriculture than has any other farm organization. Not only is it at the present time active, but it has more realinfluence than it has ever had before; and it is more nearly a_national_ farmers' organization than any other in existence today. 

The Grange is also the oldest of the general organizations for farmers. Though the notion of organizing the farmers was undoubtedly broachedearly in the history of the country, the germ idea that actually grewinto the Grange is about forty years old, and should be credited to Mr. O. H. Kelley, a Boston young man who settled on a Minnesota farm in1849. He wrote considerably for the agricultural press; and thisexperience helped to bring him to the conclusion that the great need ofagriculture was the education of the agriculturist. He soon came to feelthat existing agencies for this purpose--farm papers and fairs--wereinsufficient. In 1866, as agent for the Department of Agriculture, Mr. Kelley made a tour of the South, with the view of gaining a knowledge ofthe agricultural and mineral resources of that section. On this tour hebecame impressed with the fact that politicians would never restorepeace to the country; that if it came at all, it would have to comethrough fraternity. As his thought ripened he broached to friends theidea of a "secret society of agriculturists, as an element to restorekindly feelings among the people. "

Thus the Grange was born of two needs, one fundamental and the otherimmediate. The fundamental need of agriculture was that farmers shouldbe better educated for their business; and the immediate need was thatof cultivating the spirit of brotherhood between the North and theSouth. The latter need no longer exists; but the fundamental need stillremains and is sufficient excuse for the Grange's existence today. Mr. Kelley interested six other men in the new idea; and in December, 1867, these "seven founders of the order" organized the National Grange ofPatrons of Husbandry. Mr. Kelley is the only one of these seven men nowliving. 

Thus was begun a movement for organization that had resulted by 1873 inthe formation of over 20, 000 Granges in 28 states, comprising not lessthan 750, 000 members; and in that year the National Grange, as arepresentative body, was officially organized. For four or five yearsthis unexampled prosperity continued; then the reports show a feeling ofweakness creeping in. In fact, the order as a whole steadily declined innumbers and prestige during the whole of the decade following 1880. Thelosses were most serious, however, in the South and West; for in NewEngland and the Middle States it retained its vitality, and, indeed, grew steadily. 

During the last fifteen years there has been a widespread revival ofinterest in the organization and the outlook is exceedingly promising. During the decade following 1890 the membership increased not less than75 per cent. During the last few years the rate of gain has been evengreater. The following table gives the official records in the fiveleading Grange states:

 ========================================================= | 1900 | 1905 | ------------------------------------------ | Granges | Members | Granges | Members -------------|------------------------------------------- New York | 550 | 43, 000 | 582 | 66, 500 Maine | 275 | 29, 000 | 387 | 49, 000 Michigan | 420 | 25, 000 | 731 | 45, 000 Pennsylvania | 526 | 20, 000 | 560 | 34, 000 New Hampshire| 260 | 24, 000 | 263 | 28, 000 ---------------------------------------------------------

These states lead, but the order is also active and strong in Vermont, Connecticut, Ohio, Massachusetts. Thirty states pay dues to theNational Grange treasury, and twenty-six were represented by delegatesat the last National Grange. Since 1905 there has been substantialgrowth in most of these twenty-six states, both in numbers of Grangesand in membership. 

The official title of the Grange is "Patrons of Husbandry, " of themembers, "Patrons, " and of the various divisions, "Granges. " The"subordinate Grange, " or local lodge, is the Grange unit. Its area ofjurisdiction has, nominally, a diameter of about five miles; moreroughly, "a Grange to a township" is the working ideal among theorganizers. The membership consists of men and women, and of youngpeople over fourteen years of age, who may apply and by vote beaccepted. Constitutionally, those whose interests are not immediatelywith agriculture are ineligible to membership; and care is alsoexercised that only those who are of good repute shall be recommended. The presiding officer of each Grange is the "master;" while among thetwelve other officers the "lecturer" is the most important, andvirtually acts as programme committee, with charge of the educationalwork of the body. Meetings are held weekly or fortnightly. Each regularmeeting has first its business session, and then its "lecturer's hour, "or literary session, usually with an intervening recess for socialgreetings, etc. The programmes are prepared by the lecturer, and consistof general discussions, essays, talks, debates, readings, recitations, and music; an attempt being made to suit the tastes and talents of allmembers, young and old. Many Granges have built and own their halls, which are usually equipped with kitchen and dining-room, in addition toaudience rooms; for periodical "feasts" are as regular a feature of theassociation as are the initiations of new members. 

The Granges of a county or other given district often organizethemselves into a "Pomona Grange. " The "State Grange" is a delegatebody, meeting annually; delegates being chosen by the subordinate andPomona Granges. The "National Grange" is composed of the masters ofState Granges and their wives, and is also an annual gathering. TheNational Grange is the legislative body of the order, and has fullauthority in all matters of doctrine and practice. But to State Grangesis left the determination of policy and administration for the states. The State Granges, in turn, legislate for the subordinate Granges, whilealso passing down to them ample local powers. The machinery is thusstrongly centralized, and subordinate Granges are absolutely dependentunits of a great whole. Yet the principle of home rule pervades theorganization; and local associations are responsible for their ownmethods and the results of their work, though their officers usuallywork in harmony with the State and National Granges. 

Perhaps the clearest conception of what the order originally meant to docan be gained from a few quotations from the Declaration of Purposes ofthe National Grange, which was promulgated over thirty years ago, and isstill in force:

 We shall endeavor to advance our cause by laboring to accomplish the following objects:

 To develop a better and higher manhood and womanhood among ourselves. To enhance the comfort and attractions of our homes and to strengthen our attachments to our pursuits. To foster mutual understanding and co-operation. To maintain inviolate our laws, and to emulate each other in labor, to hasten the good time coming. To reduce our expenses, both individual and corporate. To buy less and produce more, in order to make our farms self-sustaining. To diversify our crops and crop no more than we can cultivate. To condense the weight of our exports, selling less in the bushel and more on hoof and in fleece; less in lint and more in warp and woof. To systematize our work, and calculate intelligently on probabilities. To discountenance the credit system, the mortgage system, the fashion system, and every other system tending to prodigality and bankruptcy. 

 We propose meeting together, talking together, working together, buying together, selling together, and, in general, acting together for our mutual protection and advancement, as occasion may require. We shall avoid litigation, as much as possible, by arbitration in the Grange. We shall constantly strive to secure entire harmony, good will, vital brotherhood, among ourselves, and to make our order perpetual. We shall earnestly endeavor to suppress personal, local, sectional, and national prejudices, all unhealthy rivalry, all selfish ambition. Faithful adherence to these principles will insure our mental, moral, social, and material advancement. 

 For our business interests we desire to bring producers and consumers, farmers and manufacturers, into the most direct and friendly relations possible. Hence we must dispense with a surplus of middle-men, not that we are unfriendly to them, but we do not need them. Their surplus and their exactions diminish our profits. 

 We wage no aggressive warfare against any other interests whatever. On the contrary, all our acts and all our efforts, so far as business is concerned, are not only for the benefit of the producer and consumer, but also for all other interests that tend to bring these two parties into speedy and economical contact. Hence we hold that transportation companies of every kind are necessary to our success, that their interests are intimately connected with our interests. 

 We are opposed to such spirit and management of any corporation or enterprise as tends to oppress the people, and rob them of their just profits. We are not enemies to capital, but we oppose the tyranny of monopolies. We long to see the antagonism between capital and labor removed by common consent, and by an enlightened statesmanship worthy of the nineteenth century. We are opposed to excessive salaries, high rates of interest, and exorbitant per-cent. Profits in trade. 

 We shall advance the cause of education among ourselves and for our children, by all just means within our power. We especially advocate for our agricultural and industrial colleges that practical agriculture, domestic science, and all the arts which adorn the home be taught in their courses of study. 

 We emphatically and sincerely assert the oft-repeated truth taught in our organic law, that the Grange--national, state, or subordinate--is not a political or party organization. No Grange, if true to its obligations, can discuss political or religious questions, or call political conventions, or nominate candidates, or even discuss their merits at its meetings. 

 We always bear in mind that no one, by becoming a Patron of Husbandry, gives up that inalienable right and duty which belongs to every American citizen, to take a proper interest in the politics of his country. On the contrary, it is his duty to do all he can in his own party to put down bribery, corruption, and trickery; to see that none but competent, faithful, and honest men, who will unflinchingly stand by our industrial interests, are nominated for all positions of trust; and to have carried out the principle which should characterize every Patron, that the office should seek the man, and not the man the office. 

To enumerate the achievements of the Grange would be to recall theprogress of agriculture during the past third of a century. It has beena motor force in many helpful movements, and in many ways has organizedand incorporated the best thought of the most intelligent farmers, aboutmeans for rural advancement. It has been an integral part of, and a mostpotent factor in, the expansion of American farm life. 

The greatest achievement of the order is that it has taught the farmersof America the value of co-operation and the power of organized effort. The lesson has not been fully learned, it is true; but the success ofthe institution testifies that it is possible for farmers to work inharmony. It is worth observing that this result has been achieved onconservative lines. It is comparatively easy to organize on radicallines; easy to generate enthusiasm by promising some great reform; easyto inflame self-interest by picturing millennial conditions, especiallywhen the pocket is touched. But quite different is it to arouse andsustain interest in a large popular organization whose object iseducation, whose watchword is self-culture. Of course, it would be buta half-truth to assert that the order places all its emphasis on thesober problems of education. Agitation has had its place; the hope ofbetter things for the farmer, to be achieved through legislation andbusiness co-operation, has been an inspiration to activity; but thenoteworthy fact remains that it has secured a fair degree oforganization and co-operation among farmers chiefly by appeals to theirlarger and nobler interests. 

That the association has vastly improved the social opportunities offarmers is a trite saying among old observers of its work. It forcesisolation out of the saddle. The regular meetings of the local bodiesrapidly and surely develop the social instinct among the members. PomonaGranges bring together members from all parts of the county and makethem acquainted with one another. The State Grange draws its membershipfrom every corner of the state; and as its personnel changes each year, thousands are in the course of a few years given the wider outlook, themore extended acquaintance, and the broader view that participation insuch a gathering affords. Special social features add their influence. 

As an educator on public questions the Grange has done a noble work. Atnearly every meeting in this country, some topic of public concern isbrought up by essay, talk, general discussion, or formal debate. Theviews of the "village Hampdens" may not always be economicallyscientific or scholarly. But it might surprise many people to see howwell read the members are and how clearly they can express their ideas. Their discussions are not seldom informative, and that they make publicopinion in rural communities is beyond cavil. The persistent advocacy ofspecific reforms has directed the thought of the members toward thelarger issues that so often rise above the haze of partisan politics. 

The order has prepared the soil for adequate agricultural education. While the agricultural colleges formerly had many enemies among thefarmers, and received scornful opprobrium from those whom they wereendeavoring to help, almost without exception the Granges have praisedthe colleges, welcomed their work, and urged farmers to educate theirsons at these institutions. Farmers' institutes, the agriculturalexperiment stations, and the federal Department of Agriculture have beenequally welcomed by the Grange sentiment. The Grange has always taughtthe need of better rural education. It has also tended to develop itsmembers, so that they may not only appreciate education, but that theymay be themselves living examples of the value of such education. Farmers' institute lecturers frequently say, "You can always tell whenyou reach a community where a Grange exists. " In that meeting will befound men who have read and thought on farm and public themes, men whoare not only ready in discussion, apt in statement, and eager toquestion, but men acquainted with parliamentary law, who know how suchassemblages should be conducted, and who can preside with dignity andgrace. 

The order has undoubtedly aided materially in obliterating sectionalism. That achievement was one of its avowed objects. There is no question butit assisted in cementing North and South; and that it has brought Eastand West into closer sympathy is equally true. Other farm organizationshave found their incentive in the order. These it has never frowned on, though believing and always hoping that it might attract the majority offarmers to its own ranks, and by this unity become a more powerfulfactor in securing the rights and developing the opportunities of therural classes of America. It has always discountenanced the creditsystem; and that cash payments by farmers to merchants are far morecommon than a quarter-century ago may be fairly credited, in part atleast, to its influence. 

To describe the many specific legislative achievements which the Grangesof the nation and of the several states have accomplished would betedious. Merely to enumerate a few of them must suffice here. Aconvenient summary is made from an official circular recently issued bythe National Grange. The order has had a large influence in securing thefollowing: The separation of certain agricultural colleges fromuniversities which were receiving the land-grant funds, but were not, inthe opinion of the farmers, duly contributing to agricultural education;the confining of the appropriations under the second Morrill act of 1890strictly to instruction in agriculture and mechanical arts; the HatchAct of 1887, establishing an experiment station in each state andterritory; making the head of the Department of Agriculture a cabinetofficial; the agitation resulting in the famous Iowa court decision, that railroad franchises are subject to the power that created them; theestablishment of the Inter-State Commerce Commission; tax reform inmany states; laws favoring pure food and dairy products; preventingextension of patents on sewing machines; the establishment of rural freemail delivery. 

The methods of work are many and varied. In addition to the regularliterary and social programmes previously mentioned, socials are held atthe homes of members, entertainments of various kinds occur at theGrange hall, and in many ways the association becomes the center of thesocial and intellectual interest of the community. It is debatingsociety, club, lecture course, parliamentary society, theater, andcirculating library. In fact, it lends itself to almost any functionthat will instruct, entertain, benefit, or assist its membersfinancially, morally, intellectually, or socially. Of course, not everyGrange is awake to its opportunities; but as a rule, where a live oneexists it is the acknowledged leader in social movements. 

It is not uncommon for Granges to hold fairs for the exhibition ofagricultural and domestic products. The State Fair of New Hampshire hasbeen largely managed by the Grange. In many cases Granges asorganizations will exhibit at the ordinary county or district fair. Picnics and field meetings are coming to be very popular in somestates. They are held during the summer season, at a time when work isleast pressing, and are usually attended by speakers of prominence inthe order. Many subordinate Granges give public lecture courses duringthe winter, securing speakers on general themes. They also arrange forentertainments of a popular character. 

The order also participates in activities that are not strictly Grangework. For instance, in Michigan, the State Grange for several yearscarried on a "Fresh-Air Work, " by which over 1, 000 working-girls, children, and hard-working mothers with babies, from the larger cities, were given a two-weeks' vacation in country homes. The philanthropicagencies of the cities arranged for transportation and secured thebeneficiaries, while the Grange obtained the places for them. Grangesare always active in the organization of farmers' institutes, agricultural fairs, etc. In Michigan they have assisted in theorganization of associations which are designed to bring together bothteachers and parents for discussion of rural-school problems. 

On two important matters the Grange has been misunderstood, not only bythe public, but more unfortunately, sometimes by its own members. Inhis _Division and Reunion_, President Woodrow Wilson speaks of it underthe sub-title of "New Parties. " Professor Alexander Johnston, in his_American Politics_ was more discriminating, for he said of it: "In itsnature it is not political. " But he also said: "Its object isco-operation among farmers, in purchasing and in other businessinterests. " The first conception of the character of the order is whollymisleading; the second is inadequate. 

The Grange is not a party. It never was a party. During the "Grangerlegislation" period, many members doubtless misconceived the truefunction of the Grange, and abused the power organization gave them, while the popular mind credited the association with many notions forwhich it was not responsible. It has never organized itself as afarmers' party. The National Grange has endeavored to keep strictlyaloof from partisan politics. It is possible that in some states theinfluence of the organization was, in the early days, used for partisanpurposes; but the penalty was fully paid in the disruption of the orderin those states. The Grange today regards partisanship as poisonous toits life, and does not allow it on its shelves. 

This is not to say that the Grange makes no appeal to legislation. Itis possible that in some cases it places too much faith in law as ameans of emancipation from economic bondage; but, in the main, itslegislative point of view is sane and conservative. It believes thatsuch ills as are due to bad or imperfect legislation can be, at leastpartly, relieved by good or more perfect legislation. Nor does it limitits interest to measures that concern the farmer alone. It isunalterably opposed to class legislation, and aims to keep its ownskirts clear--to avoid even the suspicion of offence in this particular. 

It may be asked, How does the order manage to advocate public measureswithout becoming involved in partisan squabbles? Simply by ceasing todiscuss a question the moment it becomes a party football. For instance:the monetary policy of the government was warmly discussed until theconventions of 1896 made it clear that it was to be a party issue. Again: the Grange has consistently urged the construction and ownershipof the Interoceanic Canal by the United States government; but it wassilent on the larger question of "imperialism, " not because the questionwas not of importance, but because it became a subject of partycontroversy. This neutral policy as to party questions imposes certainlimitations on the influence of the organization; but experience hasdemonstrated that this, more than any other thing, is responsible forthe fact that the Grange still lives and thrives. 

The other misconception lies in the sentence quoted from ProfessorJohnston, that the Grange has for its object "co-operation among farmersin purchasing and in other business interests;" the implication beingthat business was the chief function. It is generally admitted that inthe early days thousands joined the order "for what there was in it;"believing that the organization furnished a means for abolishing themiddlemen, and putting ready money into the pockets of the farmers. Whenthese sordid souls were disillusioned, their enthusiasm went down to thezero of activity. They misunderstood, or interpreted too radically, awell-defined, conservative, legitimate purpose of the Grange toco-operate on business lines. The order did believe that farmers coulddo without the surplus of middlemen; it did purpose to aid the farmerfinancially, though this purpose was not its main function. In theearlier period Grange stores were organized. A few of these are insuccessful operation today, but the policy as a whole has beenabandoned. 

Another plan, discussed over thirty years ago, has during the pastdecade come to assume practical importance as a method of co-operationon business lines. The plan, in brief, is that various State Grangescontract with manufacturing and jobbing houses to furnish members of theorder with goods at practically wholesale rates. Goods are ordered bythe subordinate Granges, under seal of the order; are purchased on acash basis; and are shipped to the purchasing agent of the Grange, andby him distributed to the individual buyers. Such materials as bindertwine, salt, harness, Paris green, all kinds of farm implements, vehicles, sewing-machines, and fruit trees are purchased advantageously. Even staple groceries, etc. , are sometimes bought in this way. Membersoften save enough in single purchases to pay all their expenses for theGrange. There is no capital invested; there are no debts imposed uponhimself by the purchaser; and there has not been extreme difficulty insecuring favorable contracts. The plan seems destined to continuedenlargement and usefulness as a legitimate phase of businessco-operation. Michigan Granges purchased not less than $350, 000 worthof goods during 1905, under such a plan. The estimate for Maine is overhalf a million dollars. 

In several states the organization successfully conducts mutual fireinsurance companies; active membership in the Grange being an essentialrequisite for membership in the insurance company. Wherever thesecompanies have become well established, it is asserted that theymaintain a lower rate of assessment than even the popular "farmers'mutuals. " In New York there are twenty-three Grange companies, withpolicies aggregating $85, 000, 000, the average cost for the year 1905being $1. 96 per thousand. Single companies claim to have secured evenbetter rates. This insurance not only pays individuals, but it attractsand holds members. In New Hampshire a fairly successful Grange lifeinsurance company exists. 

In co-operative selling, the order has so far accomplished very little, except locally and among individuals or Granges. There is a supremedifficulty in the way of successful transfers among patrons themselves, as members desiring to buy wish the very lowest prices; those desiringto sell, the very highest prices. Arbitration under such circumstancesis not easy. The fundamental obstacle to members selling together onthe general market is that, in most cases, all members do not have thesame things to sell. A co-operative creamery, for instance, is organizedon the basis of a _product_--butter; the Grange is organized on thebasis of _manhood_--and each man may have his crop or stock specialty. This difficulty, though grave, is not, perhaps, insuperable, and willtend to disappear as membership enlarges. But it is only fair to statethat, so far, the Grange has not been able to devise any successful planfor co-operative selling, applicable on a large scale. 

There are two or three features that deserve further mention. One is theposition of the family in the Grange. It is stated that the Grange wasthe first secret organization to place woman on a plane of perfectequality with man. In every association each female member has a vote. Woman has four special offices assigned to her sex, and is eligible toany office in the gift of the order. The majority of subordinatelecturers are women; many subordinate and even Pomona masters are women;Michigan's state lecturer is a woman who is revolutionizing theeducational work of the order in that state; while Minnesota had forsome years a competent and earnest woman as state master. Everydelegate to every State Grange is a dual delegate--man and wife. Thestate master and his wife are delegates to the National Grange. Womenserve on all committees in these gatherings, and a woman's voice isfrequently heard in debates. And not only the wife, but, as previouslystated, the children above fourteen years of age may attain fullmembership. A large proportion of every healthy Grange consists of youngpeople, who have their share in the active work. Thus it will be seenthat the order conserves the family life. It is doubtful if any othersocial institution in rural communities, not excepting the church, socompletely interests the entire family. 

The organization is also a conservator of morals. While sectariandiscussions are as foreign to its purposes as is partisan politics, andwhile it does not even pretend to take the place of the church, it isbuilt on a truly religious foundation. Its ritual is permeated, in wordand in sentiment, by the religious spirit. Every meeting opens andcloses with prayer. Moral character is constantly eulogized andglorified in Grange esoteric literature. The membership comes almostexclusively from that large class of farmers who are moral, high-minded, God-fearing men and women. 

The Grange has been opposed, both by farmers and by others, becausesecrecy is not a desirable attribute; but the experience of forty yearsand the uniform testimony of all leaders in the work declare that thiswas a wise provision. No influential member has, so far as it is known, proposed that the order should be dismantled of its secret features. Theritualistic work is not burdensome. Occasionally the processes ofinitiation may take time that ought to be allotted to educational work;but, if the initiation is properly conducted, it has of itself a higheducational value. 

The financial status of the Grange itself is worth noting. The fees forjoining are merely nominal, while the dues are only ten cents a monthper member. These fees and dues support the subordinate Granges, theState Grange, and the National Grange. There are no high-salariedofficials in the order, and few salaried positions of any kind. TheNational Grange today has nearly $100, 000 in its treasury, and severalState Granges have substantial reserves. This policy is pursued, not forthe love of hoarding, but because it is believed that it tends to thepermanency and solidarity of the order. 

The Grange is a live institution; it has within itself the capacity forsatisfying a great need in rural society; and it is destined to growthand larger and more permanent usefulness. It is based on correctprinciples: organization, co-operation, education. It is neither apolitical party nor a business agency. It is progressivelyconservative--or conservatively progressive. It is neither ultra-radicalnor forever in the rut. Its chief work is on cultural lines. It includesthe entire family. It is now growing, and there is every reason forthinking that this growth is of a permanent character. 

The Grange is ambitious to take its place beside the school and thechurch, as one of a trinity of forces that shall mold the life of thefarmer on the broadest possible basis--material, intellectual, social, and ethical. Is there any good reason why this ambition is not worthy, or why its goal should not be won?

CHAPTER XI

OPPORTUNITIES FOR FARM WOMEN

While rural life is often supposed to be fatally deficient in facilitiesfor growth because of its isolation, the women living on our farms arethought to be the especial victims of this lack of social opportunity. No doubt there is much of truth in the popular opinion. Modern city lifeunquestionably tends to enliven, to sharpen, to put a razor-edge oncapacity. Naturally the women as well as the men of the city are thusstimulated. An instance of the opportunities constantly presented to thecity women is the rapid multiplication of women's clubs, which, especially in smaller towns, are absolutely revolutionizing the life ofwomankind. But have not the women of the country some resources of asimilar character? Can they not in some way break the bonds ofisolation? Are there not for them some of the blessings that come from ahighly organized society? Are there not, in the country also, opportunities for the co-operation of mind and heart for common service?I think all these questions can be answered in the affirmative. It isat least worth while to endeavor to describe several means by which thewoman of the farm can keep pace with her urban sister, and underconditions not so discouraging as many may suppose. 

Probably no movement has had such a profound significance for the farmwomen of America as has the Grange movement. We have already discussedthe general aspects of Grange work. It must be remembered that thefarmer's wife is practically equal with her husband in Grange law andpractice. She votes, she may hold office, even the higher executiveoffices. A delegate to the State Grange is always two--a man and hiswife if he has one. The wife serves on committees and votes as shepleases. This equality extends throughout the order. The woman bears hershare of work; she reads papers; she directs the social phases of theGrange; she talks on farm topics if she wants to; she debates schoolaffairs; she visits neighboring Granges. All this means education, andeducation of a very valuable sort, the effects of which permeate sothoroughly those communities where the Grange has long been establishedthat one hardly realizes the work that has been accomplished. For it isnot at all an exaggeration to assert that a positive revolution oftencomes about from the planting of a Grange in a neighborhood where nosuch organization has ever existed. It finds most of the womendiffident, many of them with restricted views, few of them with theinstinct for social service developed beyond the needs of friendlyneighbors. In the Grange these women find new acquaintances, learn thepower of concerted action, meet the responsibility of office, get totheir feet for a few words--unheard-of courage! Such speech is usuallybrief and perhaps not ready, but it is likely to be cogent, because itis born of experience and "stops when through. " County and perhaps StateGranges add their experiences. And so on through the years these shy, reserved, possibly narrow, lives come to flower. And the Grange hasfurnished the dynamic. Strong leaders among farm women have beendeveloped by the opportunities the Grange has afforded them. Andthousands of other women in all parts of the country have by this samemeans grown out of their narrowness, "discovered themselves, " and becomecomparatively cultured, well read, able to take a woman's place in thisday of woman's power as a public factor. It is safe to say that theGrange has been the greatest single influence in America with respect tothe development of the women of the farm. 

Another factor in the life of farm women which has arisen in more recentyears is the farmers' institute. The audiences in some cases are largelyof men, but as a rule the attendance of women averages one-third toone-half. Until very recent years the women joined with the men in allsessions of the institute, and their presence was recognized byappropriate subjects on the programme, frequently presented by womenthemselves. Several years ago Minnesota and Wisconsin initiated separatemeetings for women, held simultaneously with the main meeting, forpurposes of instruction in domestic science. Michigan, a little later, developed the "women's section" of the farmers' institute. This is heldone afternoon of the usual two-day session of the institute in a hallseparate from the general meeting, and only women attend. Two topics arepresented for discussion, one by a woman sent by the state, the other bya woman from the town or a neighboring farm. Topics concerningchild-training, making housework easier, home life on the farm, and eventhemes relating to the problems that center about the sex question, arethoroughly discussed. Women take part much more freely than they do inthe general sessions of the institute. Across the border, in Ontario, the women have formed separate institutes, as they have also in Indiana. 

All this means a new opportunity for the farm woman. The Grange is anorganization, and its members gain all the development that comes fromengaging in the work required to maintain a semi-literary and socialorganization. The institute, on the other hand, is an event, and therecluster about it all the inspiration and suggestion that can come fromany notable convention for which one will sacrifice not a little inorder to attend. Institute work for women is in its beginnings. 

So far we have found that existing institutions for women in ruraldistricts bring together merely the women of the farm. In the women'ssection of the institutes half the audience is usually from the town. This meeting occurs, however, but once a year, and the social effect ofthe commingling of city and farm women can prove only suggestive of thedesirability of further opportunity for similar gatherings. At aMichigan institute some years ago this desire fructified, and theproduct was a "Town and Country Club. " This club secured a majority ofits membership, of some ninety, from among women residing on farms. Itsmeetings are bi-weekly. It is to be hoped that this sort of club may beorganized in large numbers. It represents another step in theemancipation of the farm woman, because it brings her into contact withher city sister--and contact that is immediate, vital, inspiring, continuous, and mutually helpful. It may be thought unnecessary to forma new set of clubs for the purpose indicated, but the fact seems to bethat the ordinary women's club even in small towns has failed to reachthe woman who makes her home upon the farm. 

Another feature of this idea of the Town and Country Club is the "restroom" for farmers' wives. In a number of cases where this has beentried, the women of the village or town provide a room as near theshopping center of the town as possible, where the country women canfind a place to rest, to lunch, and to leave their children. These roomsare fitted up in a neat but inexpensive manner with the necessaryconveniences, and are entirely free to those for whom they wereintended. If these rooms are well managed, they offer not only a verypractical form of assistance to the women of the farm, but they may bethe means of developing a form of co-operation between the women of thevillage and the farm, and eventually leading to some permanent scheme ofmutual work. Possibilities of this sort of thing are easily recognized. 

In the realms of higher education the girl who is to stay upon the farmhas not been wholly neglected. In Kansas, Iowa, Connecticut, Illinois, Ohio, and Michigan, at least, and in connection with the agriculturalcolleges of those states, courses for women (including domestic science)have been provided. They are well patronized by girls from the farm. Many of these girls do not marry farmers; many of them do. And theircollege training having thus been secured in an atmosphere more or lessagricultural, they must inevitably take rank among their sisters of thefarm as leaders in demonstrating what farm life for women may be. 

Nor should it be forgotten that the tremendous movement of recent yearswhich has so multiplied standard reading-matter, both periodicals andbooks, has reached the farm. A census of country post-offices willreveal the fact that the standard magazines go regularly to thousandsof farm homes. Agricultural papers, religious papers, and even dailiesfind multitudes of intelligent readers among farmers. 

With the advent of better highways, electric car lines, rural freedelivery, and the rural telephone, each of which is looming on thehorizon as an important feature of American farm life; with the Grangeor similar organization in every school district; with the developmentof courses for women at all our colleges of agriculture, and the logicalcomplement of such courses in the form of college extension--farmers'institutes, reading-courses, traveling libraries, lecture andcorrespondence courses--we shall find farm life taking on a new dress, and perhaps farmers' wives may come to enjoy the envy of those women whoare unfortunate enough not to have married farmers. 

CHAPTER XII

THE COUNTRY CHURCH AND PROGRESS

The only way to an understanding of the relation of the church to ruralprogress is through an appreciation of the place which the church as asocial institution may have among other social institutions affectingrural life. Moreover, to know the value of these institutions one mustfirst know the rural social needs. May we not then, even at the risk ofrepetition, take a brief survey of these needs and institutions, inorder that we may more clearly attain the proper point of view?

At the outset let us be sure that we have sympathy with the countrymanas such. It is often argued that the rural question, or any phase of it, as for instance the question of the rural church, is important becausethe country supplies the best blood to the city--and a roll-call of thefamous country-born is read to prove the point. This may be all true. But it is only a partial view, for it places the emphasis upon theleaving of the farm, whereas the emphasis should be placed upon the farmand those who stay there. We may praise the country because itfurnishes brain and brawn for the world's work; we may argue for countrylife because it possesses a good environment in which to rear a family;we may demand a school system that shall give the country child as gooda chance as the city child has. In all this we do well. But we do notyet stand face to face with the rural problem. 

For the rural problem is the problem of those who farm. It is theproblem of the man behind the plow. It is he that is the center ofinterest. His business, his success, his manhood, his family, hisenvironment, his education, his future--these constitute the problem ofthe farm. Half our people make their living from the brown soil. Invirtue, in intelligence, in real worth, this half compare favorably withthe other half who saw wood, and shovel sand, and pull throttles, andprepare briefs, and write sermons. The business of agriculture providesdirectly for the material welfare of nearly forty millions of ourpeople. It supports gigantic railway systems, fills the hulls of immenseships, furnishes raw material for thousands of industries. This ruralhemisphere of American economic and social life is surely worthy thethought of the captain of industry, of the statesman, of the economist, of the educator, of the preacher. We may also, without danger of beingput to confusion, assume that the tiller of the soil is in essentialcharacter very much like other people. Farmer nature is usually a fairspecimen of human nature. Nevertheless the environment of the farmer isa peculiar one. Individually as well as socially he is comparativelyisolated. He meets but little social friction. The class to which hebelongs is largely a segregated class, physically and socially. 

All these things give to the rural social problem a distinctivecharacter and give rise to the great social needs of the farmer. Whatare these needs? I name three: (1) _Completer organization. _ Farmers donot co-operate easily. They never had to co-operate largely under theold régime, for pioneer farming placed a premium on individualism. Thepresent century however, with its emphasis upon organization andco-operation, calls the farmer to the task with the warning cry thatunless he does organize he is in danger of losing his presentindustrial, political, and social status. (2) _Better education. _ Therural schools may not be so deficient as to deserve all the scorn heapedupon them by educational reformers; but it is little enough to say thatthey can be vastly improved. They are not keeping up with city schools. The country is especially lacking in good high-school privileges. Oftechnical training too, in spite of forty years of agriculturalcolleges, the country is sadly in need. Neither in primary grades, inhigh schools, in special schools, is there an adequate amount of studyof the principles of agriculture--principles which an age of sciencedemands must be mastered if the independent farmer is to be a success. (3) _Quicker communication. _ Isolation has been the bugbear of farmlife. It must be overcome partly by physical means. There must be acloser touch between individuals of the class, and between farmers andthe dwellers in the town and city. 

These social needs are in some degree met by the farmers' organizations, by the rural and agricultural schools, and by the development of newmeans of communication. There is a host of minor agencies. In otherchapters I have tried to show how these various institutions areendeavoring to meet these rural needs. So important are these factors ofrural life that we may now raise the question, What should be therelation of the rural church to these needs and to the agencies designedto meet them? In dealing with this phase of the subject, we may bestspeak of the church most frequently in terms of the pastor, for reasonsthat may appear as we go on. 

There are three things the country pastor may do in order to bring hischurch into vital contact with these great sociological movements. Ofcourse he _may_ ignore them, but that is church suicide. (1) He mayrecognize them. This means first of all to understand them, toappreciate their influence. There is a law of the division of labor thatapplies to institutions as well as to individuals. This law helps us tounderstand how such institutions as the Grange and farmers' institutesare doing a work that the church cannot do. They are doing a work thatneeds doing. They are serving human need. No pastor can afford to ignorethem, much less in sneer at them as unclean; he may well apply thelesson of Peter's vision, and accept them as ministers of the kingdom. (2) He may encourage and stimulate them. The rural pastor may throwhimself into the van of those who strive for better farming, for aquicker social life, for more adequate educational facilities. He canwell take up the rôle of promoter--a promoter of righteousness and peacethrough so-called secular means. Thus shall he perform the highestfunction of the prophet--to spiritualize and glorify the common. But therural pastor can go even farther. (3) He may co-operate with them. Hemay thus assist in uniting with the church all of those other agenciesthat make for rural progress, and thus secure a "federation, " if not "ofthe world, " at least of all the forces that are helping to solve thefarm problem; and he may thus found a "parliament, " if not "of man, " atleast of all who believe that the rural question is worth solving andthat no one movement is sufficient to solve it. 

We come now to the most practical part of our subject, which is, how theproposed relation between church and other rural social forces may besecured. There are four suggestions along this line. 

1. Sociological study by the rural pastor. This is fundamental. Ingeneral it means a fairly comprehensive study of sociologicalprinciples, some study of sociological problems, and some practice insociological investigation. As it relates to the rural pastor, it meansalso a knowledge of rural sociology. It implies a grasp of theprinciples and significance of modern agricultural science, anunderstanding of the history, status, and needs of rural andagricultural education, an appreciation of and sympathy for theco-operative movements among farmers. Does one say, this is asking toomuch of the burdened country pastor with his meager salary andwidespread parish? Let me ask if the pastor has any other road to powerexcept _to know_? Moreover, the task is not so formidable as firstappears. The pastor is supposed to be a trained student, and since heneeds to know these things only in broad lines, the acquiring of themneed not compel the midnight oil. I would, however, urge that everypastor have a course in general sociology, either in college or inseminary, and if he has the slightest intimation that his lines will becast in country places, that he add a course in rural sociology. Inasmuch as the latter course is at present offered in few academicinstitutions in the United States, it might well be urged that briefcourses in rural sociology be offered at the many summer schools. 

But sociological study by the pastor means more than knowledge of thegeneral principles of sociology and of the problems of rural sociology;it means a minute and comprehensive sociological study of his particularparish. This in its simplest form consists of a religious canvass suchas is frequently made both in country and city. But even this is notenough. It should at once be supplemented by a very careful and indeed acontinuous sociological canvass, in which details about the wholebusiness and life of the farm shall be collected and at last assimilatedinto the vital structure of the pastor's knowledge of his problem. 

2. The second suggestion looks toward the establishment of asocial-service church, or an institutional church, or again, as one hasphrased it, a "country church industrial. " There seems to be a growingfeeling that the country church may become not only the distinctivelyreligious center of the neighborhood, but also the social, theintellectual, and the aesthetic center. No doubt there is untold powerin such an idea. No doubt the country church has a peculiarly rich andinviting field for community service. It would be gratifying if everycountry pastor would study the possibilities of this idea and endeavorto make an experiment with it. I have, however, a supplementalsuggestion, at this point. It is not possible to make of every ruralchurch an institutional church. The church is notably a conservativeinstitution. The rural church is in this respect "to the manner born. "Rural church members are likely to be ultra-conservative, especially asto means and methods. Even if this were not true, we might well lamentany attempt to establish a social-service church that endeavored to makethe church the sole motive power in rural regeneration, that failed torecognize, to encourage, and to co-operate with the other social forceswhich we have mentioned. But if every country pastor cannot have asocial-service church, is it not possible that every country churchshall have a social-service pastor? There are some things the churchcannot _do_; there is nothing it may not through its pastor _inspire_. There are some uses to which the country church cannot be put; there areno uses to which the country pastor may not be put--as country pastorsknow by experience. The pastor ought to be an authority on socialsalvation as well as on personal salvation. He ought to be guide, philosopher, and friend in community affairs as well as in personalaffairs. Is he not indeed the logical candidate for general socialleadership in the rural community? He is educated, he is trained tothink, he is supposed to have broad grasp of the meaning of affairs, heusually possesses many of the qualities of leadership. He is_relatively_ a fixture. He is less transient than the teacher. He is theonly man in the community whose tastes are sociological and who is atthe same time a paid man--all this aside from the question of themunificence of his stipend. Let us then have the social-service ruralchurch if we can; but let us have the social-service rural pastor at allhazards, as the first term in the formula for solving the sociologicalproblem of the country church. 

3. Co-operation among rural churches. The manifest lack of co-operationamong churches seems to many laymen to result in a tremendous waster ofpower. Of course it is a very hard problem. But is it insoluble? Itwould seem not. One would think that the plan of union suggested by Dr. Strong in _The New Era_ is wholly practicable. But the burden of thesuggestion at this point is this: Cannot the churches unite sufficientlyfor a thorough religious and sociological canvass? If they cannotfederate on a theological platform, can they not unite on a statisticalplatform? If they cannot unite for religious work, can they not joinhands long enough to secure a more intelligent basis for their separatework? It seems to me that this sort of union is worth while, and that itis something in which there could be full union, in which "there isneither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free. "

4. The pastor may aid if not lead in the federation of rural socialforces. The idea involved is substantially this: Given a farmers'organization that ministers chiefly to industrial and economic ends, though incidentally to moral and educational ones; a school system thatfeeds chiefly the accepted educational needs, though acting perhaps as amoving force in industrial and social betterment; a church which ischiefly a religious institution, but which touches the life of thecommunity at many other points--given these things and the obvious nextstep is co-operation among them all, in order that a well-balanced kindof social progress may result. This form of federation means the attemptto solve the farm problem at all points. It suggests that the army ofrural progress shall march with the wings abreast the center. It meansthat the farmer, the editor, the educator, the preacher--all, shall seethe work that needs doing, in all its fulness, and, seeing, shallresolve to push ahead side by side. 

To sum up: The rural problem is a neglected but exceedingly importantquestion. Out of the peculiar environment of the farmer grow hispeculiar social needs, namely, better organization, fuller and richereducation, quicker communication. To meet these supreme needs we find agrowing and already powerful coterie of farmers' organizations, somewhatheterogeneous but rapidly developing plans of agricultural education, and a marvelous evolution of the means of transportation for body, voice, and missive. These needs and these agencies are selected as theconspicuous and vital element in the sociological problem that confrontsthe rural pastor. What shall be his attitude toward them? He _may_ignore them; but we assume that he will seek to work with them and touse them for the greater glory of God. He must then recognize them, encourage them, and co-operate with them. To do this successfully hemust first be a student of sociology; he can then well afford tomeditate upon the possibilities of making his church in some measure asocial-service church or at least of making of himself a social-servicepastor; he can work for church union at least on sociological lines; andfinally he can do his best to secure an active federation of all theforces involved in the rural problem. 

CHAPTER XIII

A SUMMARY OF RECENT PROGRESS

In some respects the most notable recent advance in rural mattersconsists in the improved means of communication in rural districts. Thecountry is relatively isolated, and it is this isolation in its extremeforms that is the bane of country living. Undue conservatism, lack ofconformity to progressive views, undue prominence of class feeling, anda tendency to be less alert are things that grow out of this isolation;but better means of communication decrease these difficulties, and thelast few years have seen a remarkable advance in this respect. Forinstance, the rural free mail delivery system is only ten years old, andyet today there are more than twenty-five thousand routes of thischaracter in the United States serving possibly twenty million peoplewith daily mail, a great proportion of whom before had very irregularmail service. Results are patent and marked. Time is saved in going formail; market reports come daily; farmers are more prompt in theirbusiness dealings; roads are kept in better shape; there is anincreased circulation of papers and magazines. Thus the farmer is incloser touch with affairs and much more alert to business opportunities, to political activities, and to social movements. The circulation ofdaily papers in country districts has increased at a marvelous rate. Theamount of letter-writing has increased. Rural delivery of mail arousesthe spirit of "being in the world. " Its results have been almostrevolutionary. 

So, too, the rural telephone. Recent investigation in the states ofOhio, Michigan, and Indiana showed that out of 200, 000 subscribers tothe independent telephone companies of those states about one-sixth werein farm homes. A few years ago, hardly a telephone could be found in afarmer's family. This business is constantly increasing. The establishedtelephone companies are pushing their work into the country districts, small local exchanges are being formed, and soon the farmers, in theNorth at least, will be almost as well served by the telephone as arepeople of the smaller cities. 

Interurban electric railways are being built very rapidly and theiradvantage to the farmer is obvious. It is doubtful if their effect hasbeen quite so far-reaching as some have suggested. At present they verylargely parallel existing steam railways, and while they give betterfreight and passenger service and assist materially in diminishing ruralisolation in the areas which they traverse, their influence does notextend very far from the line itself, and they reach relatively smallareas of the country. However, their value to the farmer is very large, and, as they increase in number and in efficiency of service, they willbecome a powerful factor in rural progress. 

The good-roads movement is beginning to take on large proportions. Itis, however, a complicated question. To make first-class roads is acostly business, and while a few such roads are of great value in ageneral social way, they do not quite make general country conditionsideal. To accomplish this, every road in the country should be a goodroad the year through, and this is an ideal very difficult ofrealization. However, in general, the roads are improving and as rapidlyas the wealth of the country will permit the road system of the UnitedStates will be developed. Of course, good roads are a prime requisitefor rural betterment. 

In general, it may be said that during the past decade the improvementof means of communication in rural districts has gone forward at amarvelously rapid pace. Nor is it exaggerating to say that the movementsnamed are re-creating farm life. 

During this same period, there has been an almost equally wonderfuladvance in the means of agricultural education. Just twenty years agothe experiment-station system of this country was established. It tookten years for the stations to organize their work and to gain theconfidence of the farmers. At present however, they are looked upon withgreat favor by the farming class and are doing a magnificent work. Theirfunction is that of research chiefly, although they attempt some controlservice, such as inspection of fertilizers, stock foods, etc. Inresearch they aim both to study the more intricate scientific questionsthat relate to agriculture and to carry on experiments that are of moreobvious and more immediate practical application to existing conditionsin the various states. There is one of these stations in each state andterritory, besides a number of stations supported by state funds. TheDepartment of Agriculture at Washington has also developed during thelast ten years until it is performing very large service foragriculture. Its annual expenditures aggregate eight or ten milliondollars, and it has in its employment hundreds of experts carrying onlaboratory and field research, scouring the world for plants and seedsthat may be of economic value, and assisting to control plant and animaldiseases. It is also distributing a vast amount of practicalinformation, put in readable form and adapted to the average farmer. Itswork of seeking to extend the markets of our agricultural products isone of its notable successes. 

Agricultural schools have been talked about for a century, and duringthe early part of the last century several were started. The firstpermanent agricultural college was opened in 1857, in Michigan. TheMorrill Act of 1862 gave rise to a system of such colleges and todaythere will be found one in every state and territory, besides severalfor the colored people of the South. Up to 1890, these colleges had beennot wholly satisfactory and the farming class was not patronizing veryfully their agricultural courses. The fault belonged both to the collegeand to the farmers. The farmers were skeptical of the value ofagricultural education, and the colleges were often out of sympathy withthe real needs of the farmers, and in fact found it difficult to breakaway from the pedagogical ideals of the old educational régime. Since1890, however, there has been a complete change of sentiment in thisrespect, particularly in the Middle West. There the "land-grant"colleges, whether separate colleges or whether organized as colleges ofstate universities, are securing magnificent buildings for agriculture, are offering fully equipped courses, and are enrolling as students someof the best men in college, whom they are educating not only foragricultural teachers and experimenters but also for practical farmers. Of course, there are many grave problems connected with this subject, many farmers who do not yet respond to the call for educatedagriculturists, and some colleges that do not yet appreciate theiropportunity. But the change for the better has been so marked that allagricultural educators are extremely optimistic. 

One of the most difficult and most important phases of agriculturaleducation is that of a secondary grade. The great proportion of educatedfarmers will probably be trained for their business in secondaryschools. This problem is being approached from many standpoints. TheUniversity of Minnesota established, some fourteen years ago, a schoolof agriculture, which now enrols several hundred pupils of both sexes. Wisconsin is trying the experiment of two county schools of agriculture. Occasionally the public high school will be found offering a course inagriculture. Several states are experimenting in one or more of theselines, and during the next few years we shall see a large development ofthis phase of agricultural education. 

One of the most interesting movements in agricultural education has beenan attempt to introduce nature-study and even the elements ofagriculture into the country schools. Cornell University has taken thelead in advocating "nature-study" purely, for the schools; and theUniversity of Missouri has perhaps been the leader in advocating thatthe work be made even more definite and practical, and that the countrypupils shall be taught, during their early years even, "the elements ofagriculture. " Both plans are being worked out with a fair degree ofsuccess, and many other states are carrying out the work in some form orother. Of course the idea is not a new one, but its present practicalapplication is a timely one, and it will not be long before this branchof agricultural education will become a prominent factor in ruralbetterment. 

A most suggestive phase of agricultural education is college extensionwork. University extension has had a rather meteoric career in thiscountry, in so far as it has been connected with educationalinstitutions; although the extension idea is spreading rapidly and isbeing worked out through home study and correspondence courses of allsorts. But I think there is scarcely any field in which the real collegeextension idea is today being more successfully applied than inagriculture. The work started with farmers' institutes, which wereinstituted about twenty-five years ago and which have been adopted inpractically all the states of the Union. It has broadened within tenyears, until now it is carried on not only by farmers' institutes, butthrough home-correspondence courses, the introduction of millions ofpamphlets into farm homes, demonstrations in spraying, butter-making, soil testing, milk testing, and so on. 

Ontario presents a good illustration of how a new agriculture can becreated, in a dozen years, by co-operating methods of agriculturaleducation. Her provincial department of agriculture, her experimentstation, her agricultural college, her various forms of extension work, and her various societies of agriculturists have all worked togetherwith an unusual degree of harmony for the deliberate purpose of inducingCanadian agriculturists to produce the things that will bring the mostprofit. The results have been most astonishing and most gratifying. 

The recent progress in the organization of farmers has been less markedthan has been the development of rural communication and agriculturaleducation. Organization is a prime requisite for farmers. They feel thistruth themselves. For the last forty years, many attempts--some large, some small, some successful, some great failures--have been made to thisend. The problem is an extremely difficult one. Business co-operationamong farmers is especially difficult and, while co-operation hasdeveloped quite largely--so much so that the Department of Agriculturewas able to report, a year ago, a list of five thousand co-operativesocieties of various kinds among farmers--still it cannot be said thatthe farmers are co-operating industrially in a relatively large way. They have, however, a multitude of associations and societies. They havealso the Grange, which is the most successful of all the generalorganizations of farmers in the country. Contrary to public belief, theGrange is not defunct, but has been growing at a very rapid pace duringthe last few years and has a large influence especially in the East andMiddle West. It has practically no existence in the far West and in theSouth. It has a national organization, however, representing sometwenty-six states. Its influence in Congress is said to be marked. Thelocal Granges are doing a very large work, socially, educationally, andsometimes financially. The Grange seems to understand itself now. Itsideals have been worked out pretty carefully, and its future growth isquite certain. 

We have suggested that the significant rural social movements of thepast few years have been the improvement of rural communication, thewonderful development of agricultural education, and the fairlysatisfactory development of organization among farmers. It seems alsoapparent that there is a fourth line of development that might bementioned as being significant, and it may be expressed in a somewhatgeneral statement that the interest in agricultural questions hasincreased in a very marked way. There is undoubtedly a new emphasis uponcountry life generally. The people of the cities have been going to thecountry more than ever before. A walk, the length of Beacon Street inBoston, at any time from the middle of June to late autumn, convincesone that the majority of the people are somewhere in the country. Allover the North, city people are making country homes for at least aportion of the year. There is also a growing interest in the farm andfarm problems among the general public. Just now the country schools areattracting special attention from the educators--so much so that thelate President Harper stated, not long ago, that the rural-schoolquestion is the coming question in education. Even the country church isbeing made a subject of discussion in religious circles. It is concededthat agriculture presents "problems. " And while the throbbing, busy, intense life of the city brings perplexing questions to ourcivilization, our people are coming to realize that the agriculturalpopulation and the agricultural industry are still tremendous factors inour national life and success, and that both social and industrialconditions in the country are such that there also are grave questionsto be settled. 

In view of the facts which have been given, I think if one were asked togive a direct answer to the question, Is the farmer keeping up? onecould reply, Yes. In some sections of the country, the farmers have notresponded to these forward movements. The countryman is naturallyconservative. Not only that, but there are some serious questions thathe has to meet in his business and in his life. He finds it extremelyand increasingly difficult to get adequate labor. He has not been ableto take sufficient advantage of the power of co-operation. Theindustrial and social development of the city has lured away hischildren. And yet one cannot help feeling that these really remarkableadvances of the past decade are prophetic of a steady improvement inrural conditions, of a larger development of rural life, of a greaterprosperity for agriculture. 

With regard to the future, it seems to me that, on the social side, theprogress of the next few years is to be along the lines, indicatedabove, which have characterized the past ten or a dozen years. Stillfurther improved means of communication will tend to banish isolationand its drawbacks. Realization of the benefits of organization andability to co-operate will vastly strengthen class power. The means ofagricultural education will be developed very rapidly, with the ideal inmind of being able to furnish some sort of agricultural training forevery individual who lives upon the farm. The country question, as awhole, will attract increasing attention. Gradually it will be seen thatthe rural problem is one of the greatest interest to all our citizens. The spirit of co-operation will grow until not only the farmersthemselves unite for their own class interests but the various socialagencies--industrial, religious, educational--ministering to ruralbetterment will find themselves also co-operating. Thus, it seems to me, the outlook for the future is full of hope. A genuine forward movementfor rural betterment has had its beginning, is now gathering volume, andwill soon attain very large proportions. 

FORWARD STEPS

CHAPTER XIV

THE SOCIAL SIDE OF THE FARM QUESTION

There is a proverb in Grange circles which expresses also thefundamental aim of all agricultural education--"The farmer is of moreconsequence than the farm and should be first improved. " The first termin all agricultural prosperity is the man behind the plow. Improvedagriculture is a matter of fertile brain rather than of fertile field. Mind culture must precede soil culture. 

But if the improved man is the first term in improved agriculture, if heis the effective cause of rural progress, he is also the last term andthe choice product of genuine agricultural advancement. We mayparaphrase the sordid, "raise more corn to feed more hogs to buy moreland to raise more corn, etc. , " into the divine, "train better farmersto make better farming to grow better farmers, etc. " We want trained menthat we may have an advancing agricultural art, that we may make everyagricultural acre render its maximum. The improved acre, however, mustyield not only corn but civilization, not only potatoes but culture, not only wheat but effective manhood. 

But we may carry the point a step farther. The individual farmer is thestarting-point and the end of agriculture, it is true. But the lonefarmer is an anomaly, either as a cause or as a product, as the lone manis everywhere. As an effective cause we must have co-operatingindividuals, and as an end we desire an improved community and ahigher-grade _class_ of farmers. 

The farm question then is a social question. Valuable as are thecontributions of science to the problems of soil and plant and animal, the ultimate contribution comes from the development of improved men. Sothe real end is not merely to utilize each acre to its utmost, nor toprovide cheap food for the people who do not farm, nor yet to renderagriculture industrially strong. The gravest and most far-reachingconsideration is the social and patriotic one of endeavoring to developand maintain an agricultural class which represents the very best typeof American manhood and womanhood, to make the farm home the ideal home, to bring agriculture to such a state that the business will alwaysattract the keen and the strong who at the same time care more for homeand children and state and freedom than for millions. In other words, the maintenance of the typical American farmer--the man who isessentially middle class, who is intelligent, who keeps a good standardof living, educates his children, serves his country, owns hismedium-sized farm, and who at death leaves a modest estate--themaintenance of the typical American farmer is the real agriculturalproblem. 

If this analysis is a correct one, it will vitally affect our plans foragricultural training. The student will be taught not only soil physics, but social psychology. He will learn not only the action of bacteria inmilk fermentation, but the underlying causes of the social ferment amongthe farmers of the last thirty years. He will concern himself with thevalue of farmers' organizations as well as with the co-operatinginfluences of high-bred corn and high-bred steers. The function andorganization of the rural school will be as serious a problem to him asthe building and management of the co-operative creamery. The countrychurch and its career will interest him fully as much as does the latestsuccessful device for tying milch cows in the stable. He will want toget at the kernel of the political questions that confront agriculturejust as fully and thoroughly as he wishes to master the formulae forcommercial fertilizers. No man will have acquired an adequateagricultural education who has not been trained in rural social science, and who does not recognize the bearing of this wide field of thoughtupon the business of farming as well as upon American destiny. 

Research, too, will be touched with the social idea. The men who studyconditions existing in rural communities which have to do with the reallife of the people--the effects of their environment, the tendencies oftheir habits and customs--will need as thorough preparation for theirwork, and the result of their efforts will be as useful as that of themen who labor in field and laboratory. 

But the most profound consequence of recognizing the social side of thefarm question will be the new atmosphere created at the agriculturalcolleges. These institutions are fast gaining leadership in all thetechnical questions of agriculture--leadership gladly granted byprogressive farmers whenever the institution is managed withintelligence and in the spirit of genuine sympathy with farming. Butthese colleges must minister to the _whole farmer_. They must help thefarmer solve all his problems, whether these problems are scientific, oreconomic, or social, or political. And let it be said in all earnestnessthat in our rapidly shifting industrial order, the farmer's interest inthe political, social, and economic problems of his calling is fully asgreat as it is in those purely scientific and technical. And rightly so. A prime steer is a triumph. But it will not of itself keep the farmerfree. The 50-bushels-of-wheat acre is a grand business propositionprovided the general industrial conditions favor the grower as well asthe consumer. When our agricultural colleges enter into the fullestsympathy with all the rural problems, when the farm home and the ruralschool and the country church and the farmer's civic rights and dutiesand all the relations of his business to other industries--when thesequestions are "in the air" of our agricultural colleges, then and thenalone will these colleges fulfil their true mission of being _all thingsto all farmers_. 

CHAPTER XV

THE NEEDS OF NEW ENGLAND AGRICULTURE

One might name a score of important activities that should be encouragedin order to better New England agriculture. But the two fundamentalneeds are (1) adaptation and (2) co-operation. 

By adaptation is meant such development of agriculture as shall morefully utilize existing physical and commercial conditions. The West hasfor seventy-five years pressed hard upon New England farming. But alongwith this western competition has come a new opportunity for the easternfarmer. New England farmers as a whole have not quickly enough respondedto this new opportunity. Many of their troubles may be traced to thefailure to adapt themselves to the new conditions. The men in NewEngland who have met the new opportunity are succeeding. 

What does this adaptation consist in? It means, first, the adaptation ofthe New England farmer to his markets. In most parts of the country thetype of farming is perhaps more dependent upon physical conditions ofsoil and climate than upon the immediate market. In New England thereverse is now true, and the type of New England farming must beadapted, absolutely and completely, to the demands of its market. NewEngland farmers have the most superb markets in the country. Of the sixmillion people in New England, approximately 75 per cent. Live in thecities and villages. There are, in New England, thirty cities having apopulation of twenty-five thousand or more. The great majority of thesecities are manufacturing cities peopled by the best class of consumersin the world--the American skilled artisan. They constitute a nearbymarket that demands fresh products which cannot be transported across acontinent. New England is also especially favored in its nearness to theEuropean market. The New England farmer then must adapt his crops, hismethods, and his style of farming to his peculiar market. 

In the second place, this adaptation must be one of soil, just asanywhere else, only the problem here becomes more complicated because ofthe varied character of the farming lands. How to make the valleys andthe hills, the rocky ridges and the sand plains of New England yieldtheir largest possibilities in agriculture is a problem of the greatestscientific and industrial interest, and it is the problem that NewEngland agriculture has to face. In this connection comes also the needof special varieties adapted not only to the market but to the soil andclimate. 

This principle of adaptation is the industrial key to futureagricultural development in New England. But to achieve this adaptation, to make the key work, there is needed the force of social organization. The farmer must be reached before the farm can be improved. The man whotreads the furrow is a greater factor than nitrogen or potash. How isthis man to be reached, inspired, instructed? Largely by some form oforganization. The second and greater need therefore is co-operation. 

Co-operation means faith in agriculture--a faith too seldom found in theIsrael of New England's yeomanry. Co-operation means ideals--ideals ofrural possibilities too seldom dreamed of in the philosophy of theYankee farmer. Co-operation means power--power that cannot be acquiredby the lone man, not even by the resolute individualism so dominant inNew England character. 

There are three forms of co-operation, all of which are desirable andeven essential if the most rapid agricultural progress in New England isto be secured--co-operation among individuals, among organizations, among states. 

The farmers of New England must work together. The Grange is stronger inNew England than in any other portion of the country of similararea--yet not one farmer in ten belongs to the Grange. We need not dwellon this point, for it is a truth constantly preached through the Grangeand through other means. Let me suggest two ideas relative toco-operation which have not received so much attention. 

Each organization has its peculiar work. The school is to train theyoung, the agricultural college to prepare the youth, the farmers'institute to instruct and inspire the middle-aged and mature. Theexperiment station seeks to discover the means by which nature and manmay better work together. The producers' unions endeavor to secure afair price for their goods. The Grange enlarges the views of its membersand brings the power which comes from working together, buying together, meeting together, talking together, acting together. Boards ofagriculture control conditions of health and disease among animals andplants. The country fair educates and interests. The church crowns allin its ministrations of spiritual vision, moral uplift, and insistenceupon character as the supreme end of life. 

But no institution can do the work of the others. They are members oneof another. The hand cannot say to the foot, I have no need of thee. Allthese things make for rural progress. None can be spared. The Grangecannot take the place of the church. The institute cannot supplant theGrange. The college course cannot reach the adult farmer. The experimentstation cannot instruct the young. The church cannot secure reforms intaxation. 

These agencies may however co-operate. Indeed the most rapid and mostsecure rural progress, the broadest and soundest agricultural growth, can not take place unless there be this form of co-operation. There willcome added interest, increased efficiency, larger views, greaterambitions in our agricultural development, if, in each state, all ofthese forces work together. 

We may therefore welcome most cordially the proposed plan of federatingthe various agricultural societies of each state into one grandcommittee organized for the purpose of forwarding all the agriculturalinterests of that state. Let there be, moreover, a "League for RuralProgress, " in each state or, at least, an annual conference on ruralprogress, in each state, in which the representatives of the farmers'societies, of the schools, of the churches, and indeed all other peoplewho have the slightest interest in rural advancement may meet to discussplans and methods which shall better agriculture and the farmer. 

But this is not enough. There ought to be co-operation among thesevarious social institutions without respect to state lines. The farmproblem in New England is one problem, although differing in details, itis true, in different states. Co-operation should not stop with thefederating of the organizations of a state. There is no reason, forinstance, why the agricultural colleges and experiment stations of NewEngland should not co-operate. It is not practicable to prevent allduplication of work. I do suggest the desirability and the feasibilityof genuine co-operation. 

Why should not those in charge of the rural schools of all New Englandmeet together and discuss the difficulties and achievements as theyexist in different states? Why not have a "New England Society forAgricultural Education, " in which all organizations and all individualswho are interested in any phase of this subject may meet for discussingNew England problems? Could not boards of agriculture co-operate to someextent, especially in farmers' institute work with general plans andideas? Certainly conferences between these boards ought to yield mostvaluable results. Is the idea of a genuine New England fair a meredream?

Cannot the Granges of New England profitably co-operate more fully? Itis true that there is considerable intervisitation, and yet the rank andfile of members in one state know comparatively little of the progressand methods of the Grange in an adjoining state; this knowledge isconfined to a few leaders. Would it not be worth while to attempt anoccasional New England assemblage of Grange members, a representativegathering for discussing Grange work and for enthusing the Grange peopleof New England with the possibilities of still further Grangedevelopment?

The idea of New England as a unit of interest in church matters isalready exemplified by the appointment of a New England secretary of thefederation of churches. It is not too much to expect that, in the nearfuture, all the means for church federation in New England shall worktogether, because it is evident that co-operation and unity are demandedby the nature of the field. 

And finally, is it idle to think that there might be a New EnglandLeague for Rural Progress or, at least, a New England Conference onRural Progress, which shall bring from every corner of New Englandrepresentatives of the agricultural colleges, of the Granges, of thecountry church, of the rural school, of the country press, and all otherindividuals who believe in the possibilities of New England agriculture, and in the efficiency of the fullest and freest co-operation?

There are several powerful reasons why an attempt to better New Englandagriculture will be greatly aided by co-operation that includes everyinch of New England soil from Boston harbor to the Berkshires, and fromMt. Katahdin to Point Judith. 

(1) The importance of New England agriculture. In the appended table isattempted a comparison between New England as a unit, the state ofMichigan representing an average agricultural state, and the state ofIowa representing the foremost agricultural state. The figures, takenfrom the Census of 1900, are given in round numbers. Such a table is notconclusive as to agricultural conditions. But it is very suggestive asto the importance of New England agriculture both industrially andsocially. It will be seen that, with an area only a little larger thanMichigan, New England compares in every respect favorably with thataverage state and, in some respects, excels it, while it excels bothMichigan and Iowa by 65 per cent. In gross value of product per acre ofimproved land. 

(2) Agricultural conditions all over New England are quite similar. Speaking broadly, the soil and climate of one state are the soil andclimate of another. The people are of the same stock, the same views, the same habits, the same traditions. The demand of the market is fairlyuniform for different sections. The New England city is the NewEnglander's special possession as a market. Farm labor conditions aremuch the same. In fact, there is hardly a portion of our country, of thesame area, which in all these respects yields itself more completely tothe idea of unity. 

(3) The hopefulness of the farm problem. Nearly four millions of citypeople live in New England. They must be fed. The nearness of themarket means high-class products. This means intensive agriculture. Intensive agriculture means education and intelligence. The cities aregrowing. Their power of consumption is steadily and rapidly increasing. 

(4) The unusual social equipment. It must be remembered that in an areabut little larger than Iowa, which has one agricultural college and oneagricultural experiment station and no Granges to speak of, New Englandhas, in comparison, six agricultural colleges, six experiment stations, six boards of agriculture, over a thousand Granges, and numerousagricultural societies. The means of agricultural education in NewEngland are more numerous and may be more efficient than in any otherportion of this country of similar area. Moreover, the cities are now ina position to help solve the problem in New England. They have leaders. There are in them men with leisure and talent who are interested in thisproblem and who are willing to help solve it. 

(5) The sentimental side. A campaign for rural progress, with NewEngland as the unit, ought to arouse the pride and enthusiasm of all thesons and daughters of New England who still have the privilege of livingwithin her borders, as well as the interest and sympathy of all hergrandsons who, though living under western skies, still cherish in theirhearts the deepest affection for their Fatherland. Shall not the idea ofuniting all the forces of agricultural betterment that exist in NewEngland be a stimulus to every farmer in the six states, and, indeed, attract the sympathy and practical aid of every lover of New Englandsoil?

Adaptation, co-operation: these are the primary needs of New Englandagriculture; an adaptation of the farmer and his farm to existingconditions, a co-operation that unites individual farmers into variousassociated efforts, that federates the work and influence of thedifferent social agencies within the state, and that ultimately securesthe unity of all New England in a great movement for rural advancement. 

 =================================================================== | New England | Michigan | Iowa ------------------------------------------------------------------- Total land area-- | | | square miles | 62, 000 | 57, 500 | 55, 500 Number of farms | 192, 000 | 203, 000 | 229, 000 Acreage in farms | 20, 500, 000 | 17, 500, 000 | 34, 600, 000 Acres of improved | | | land | 8, 135, 000 | 11, 800, 000 | 29, 900, 000 Value of farms | $640, 000, 000 | $690, 000, 000 | $1, 835, 000, 000 Value of farm | | | products | $170, 000, 000 | $147, 000, 000 | $365, 000, 000 Persons engaged in | | | agriculture | 290, 000 | 312, 000 | 372, 000 Rural population | 1, 500, 000 | 1, 200, 000 | 1, 260, 000 Value of products per| | | acre of improved | | | land | $20 | $12 | $12 Number of Granges | 1, 200 | 725 | Number of Grange | | | members | 120, 000 | 45, 000 | -------------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER XVI

AN UNTILLED FIELD IN AMERICAN EDUCATION

Agricultural education in this country has thus far been an attempt toapply a knowledge of the laws of the so-called "natural" sciences to thepractical operations of the farm. Comparatively little attention hasbeen paid to the application of the principles of the "social" sciencesto the life of the farmer. All this is partly explained by the fact thatthe natural sciences were fairly well developed when the needs of thefarmer called the scientist to work with and for the man behind theplow, when a vanishing soil fertility summoned the chemist to theservice of the grain grower, when the improvement of breeds of stock andraces of plants began to appeal to the biologist. Moreover, thesepractical applications of the physical and biological sciences are, andalways will be, a fundamental necessity in the agricultural question. 

But in the farm problem we cannot afford to ignore the economic andsociological phases. While it may be true that the practical success ofthe individual farmer depends largely upon his business sense and histechnical education, it is folly to hope that the success of agricultureas an industry and the influence of farmers as a class can be basedsolely upon the ability of each farmer to raise a big crop and to sellit to advantage. General intelligence, appreciation of the trend ofeconomic and social forces, capacity to co-operate, ability to voice hisneeds and his rights, are just as vital acquirements for the farmer asknowing how to make two blades of grass grow where but one grew before. It finally comes to this, that the American farmer is obliged to studythe questions that confront him as a member of the industrial order andas a factor in the social and political life of the nation, with as muchzeal and understanding as he is expected to show in the study of thosenatural laws governing the soil and the crops and the animals that heowns. 

In this connection it is significant to note that farmers themselves arealready quite as interested in the social problems of their particularcalling and in the general economic and political questions of the day, as they are in science applied to their business of tilling the soil. Not necessarily that they minimize the latter, but they seeminstinctively to recognize that social forces may work them ill or workthem good according to the direction and power of those forces. Thisstatement is illustrated by the fact that the aims, purposes, labors, and discussions of the great farmers' organizations like the Grange aresocial in character, having to do with questions that are political, economic, sociological. 

When, however, we turn to those public educational agencies that areintended to assist in the solution of the farm problem, we discover thatthey are giving slight attention to the social side of the question. Anexamination of the catalogues of the agricultural colleges, whetherseparate institutions or colleges of state universities, reveals thefact that, beyond elementary work in economics, in civics, andoccasionally in sociology, little opportunity is given students to studythe farm question from its social standpoint. With a few exceptions, these institutions offer no courses whatever in rural social problems, and even in these exceptional cases the work offered is hardlycommensurate with the importance of the subject. Nearly all our othercolleges and universities are subject to the same comment. The averagestudent of problems in economics and sociology and education gains onconception whatever of the importance and character of the rural phasesof our industrial and social life. 

It may be urged in explanation of this state of affairs that the liberalstudy of the social sciences in our colleges and universities andespecially any large attention to the practical problems of economicsand sociology, is a comparatively recent thing. This is true and is agood excuse. But it does not offer a reason why the social phases ofagriculture should be longer neglected. The purpose of this article isless to criticize than to describe a situation and to urge thetimeliness of the large development, in the near future, of rural socialscience. 

At the outset the queries may arise, What is meant by rural socialscience? and, What is there to be investigated and taught under such ahead? The answer to the first query has already been intimated. Ruralsocial science is the application of the principles of the socialsciences, especially of economics and sociology, to the problems thatconfront the American farmer. As a reply to the second query there areappended at the end of this chapter outlines of possible courses inagricultural economics and rural sociology, which were prepared by thewriter for the exhibit in "rural economy" at the St. Louis exposition. There are also subjects that have a political bearing, such as localgovernment in the country, and primary reform in rural communities, which perhaps ought not to be omitted. So, too, various phases of homelife and of art might be touched upon. The subjects suggested and otherslike them could be conveniently grouped into from two to a dozencourses, as circumstances might require. 

What classes of people may be expected to welcome and profit byinstruction of this character? (1) The farmers themselves. Assuming thatour agricultural colleges are designed, among other functions, to trainmen and women to become influential farmers, no argument is necessary toshow how studies in rural social science may help qualify these studentsfor genuine leadership of their class of toilers. On the other hand, itmay be remarked that no subjects will better lend themselves to collegeextension work than those named above. Lectures and lecture courses forgranges, farmers' clubs, farmers' institutes, etc. , on such themes wouldarouse the greatest interest. Correspondence and home study coursesalong these lines would be fully as popular as those treating of soilsand crops. (2) Agricultural educators. The soil physicist or theagricultural chemist will not be a less valuable specialist in his ownline, and he certainly will be a more useful member of the faculty of anagricultural college, if he has an appreciative knowledge of thefarmer's social and economic status. This is even more true of mencalled to administer agricultural education in any of its phases. (3)Rural school administrators and the more progressive rural teachers. Thecountry school can never become truly a social and intellectual centerof the community until the rural educators understand the socialenvironment of the farmer. (4)Country clergymen. The vision of asocial-service church in the country will remain but a dream unless, added to the possession of a heart for such work, the clergyman knowsthe farm problem sufficiently to appreciate the broader phases of theindustrial and social life of his people. (5) Editors of farm papers, and of the so-called "country" papers. Probably the editors of thebetter class of agricultural papers are less in need of instruction suchas that suggested than is almost anyone else. Yet the same argumentsthat now lead many young men aspiring to this class of journalism toregard a course in scientific agriculture as a vestibule to their workmay well be used in urging a study of rural social science, especiallyat a time when social and economic problems are pressing upon thefarmer. As for the country papers, the work of purveying local gossipand stirring the party kettle too often obscures the tremendouspossibilities for a high-class service to the rural community which suchpapers may render. No men, in the agricultural states at least, havemore real influence in their community than the trained, clean, manly, country editors--and there is a multitude of such men. If as a classthey possessed also a wider appreciation of the farmer's industrialdifficulties and needs, hardly anyone could give better service to thesolution of the farm problem than could they. (6) Everybody else! Thatis to say, the agricultural question is big enough and important enoughto be understood by educated people. The farmers are half our people. Farming is our largest single industrial interest. The capital investedin agriculture is four-fifths the capital invested in manufacturing andrailway transportation combined. Whether an individual has a specialinterest in business, in economics, in education, or in religiousinstitutions, he ought to know the place of the farm and the farmer inthat question. No one can have a full appreciation of the social andindustrial life of the American people who is ignorant of theagricultural status. 

The natural place to begin work in rural social science is theagricultural college. Future farmers and teachers of farmers aresupposed to be there. The subjects embraced are as important in solvingthe farm problem as are biology, physics, or chemistry. No skilledfarmer or leader of farmers should be without some reasonably correctnotions of the principles that determine the position of agriculture inthe industrial world. A brief study of the elements of politicaleconomy, of sociology, of civics, is not enough; no more than the studyof the elements of botany, of chemistry and of zoölogy is enough. Thespecific problems of the farmer that are economic need elucidationalongside the study of soils and crops, of plant-and stock-breeding. Andthese economic topics should be thoroughly treated by men trained insocial science, and not incidentally by men whose chief interest istechnical agriculture. 

The normal schools may well discuss the propriety of adding one or twocourses which bear on the social and economic situation of the ruralclasses. While these schools do not now send out many teachers intorural schools, they may do so under the system of centralized schools;and in any event they furnish rural school administrators, as well asinstructors of rural teachers. There seems to be a growing sentimentwhich demands of the school and of the teacher a closer touch with lifeas it is actually lived. How can rural teachers learn to appreciate thesocial function of the rural school, except they be taught?

Nor is there any reason why the theological seminaries, or at least theinstitutions that prepare the men who become country clergymen, shouldnot cover some of the subjects suggested. If the ambition of some peopleto see the country church a social and intellectual center is to berealized, the minister must know the rural problem broadly. The samearguments that impel the city pastor to become somewhat familiar withthe economic, social, and civic questions of the day hold with equalforce when applied to the necessary preparation for the rural ministry. 

The universities may be called upon to train teachers and investigatorsin rural social science for service in agricultural colleges, normalschools, and theological seminaries. Moreover, there is no good reasonwhy any college or university graduate should not know more than he doesabout the farm problem. There can be little doubt that the interest inthe farm question is very rapidly growing, and that the universitieswill be but meeting a demand if they begin very soon to offer courses inrural social science. 

The arguments for rural social science rest, let us observe, not onlyupon its direct aid to the farmers themselves, but upon its value as abasis for that intelligent social service which preacher, teacher, andeditor may render the farming class. It is an essential underlyingcondition for the successful federation of rural social forces. Indeedit should in some degree be a part of the equipment of every educatedperson. 

It may not be out of place to add, in conclusion, that instruction inrural social problems should be placed in the hands of men who arethoroughly trained in social science as well as accurate, experienced, and sympathetic observers of rural conditions. It would be mischievousindeed if in the desire to be progressive any educational institutionshould offer courses in rural social science which gave superficial orerroneous ideas about the scientific principles involved, or whichencouraged in any degree whatever the notion that the farmer's businessand welfare are not vitally and forever bound up with the business andwelfare of all other classes. 

OUTLINE FOR A BRIEF COURSE IN AGRICULTURAL ECONOMICS

 I. Characteristics of the Agricultural Industry. Dependence upon nature. Capital and labor as applied to agriculture. The laws of rent and of decreasing returns in agriculture. Relation of agriculture to other industries and to the welfare of mankind. 

 II. History of the Agricultural Industry. In ancient times. Status in Europe prior to the eighteenth century. The struggle to maintain its standing after the advent of commerce and manufacture. In the United States. The pioneer stage. Development of commercial agriculture. The new farming. 

III. Present Status of the Farming Industry. The world's food supply. Agricultural resources of the United States. Geographical factors. Soils, climate, fertility, natural enemies, etc. Statistics of farms, farm wealth, production, etc. Leading sub-industries, cereals, stock, etc. Distribution of production. 

 IV. The Agricultural Market. Description of the market--local, domestic, foreign. Mechanism of the market. Banks and local exchange facilities. Middlemen. Boards of trade. Prices of agricultural products. Movements of prices. Agricultural competition. Depressions of agriculture. Influence of "options. " Transportation of agricultural products. Primary transportation--wagon roads and trolley lines. Railroad and water transportation. Facilities. Rates. Discriminations. Delivery methods. Incidents of the transportation system--elevators, etc. Imperfect distribution of agricultural products. Development of the market. Increase of consumption of products--manufacture of farm products as a factor. The factor of choicer products. The factor of better distribution of products. The local market as a factor. The foreign market as a factor. 

 V. Business Co-operation in Agriculture. Historical sketch. Present status. Production. Marketing. Buying. Miscellaneous business co-operation. Difficulties and tendencies. 

 VI. Agriculture and Legislation. Land laws and land policies of the United States. Agriculture and the tariff. Taxation and agriculture. Food and dairy laws. Government aid to agriculture. 

VII. General Problems. Agricultural labor. Machinery and agriculture. Interest rates, indebtedness, etc. Tenant farming. Large vs. Small farming. Business methods. Immigration and agriculture. 

OUTLINE FOR A BRIEF COURSE IN RURAL SOCIOLOGY

INTRODUCTION

1. Definitions. 2. Relation of the sociological to the economic, the technical, and the scientific phases of agriculture. 

Part I

THE RURAL SOCIAL STATUS

CHAPTER I

Movements of the Farm Population

1. Statistical survey. 2. The movement to the West. History, causes. 3. The movement to the cities. _a_) Growth of cities. _b_) Depletion of rural population in certain localities. 4. Causes of the movement to the cities. _a_) Industrial, social, and psychological causes. 5. Results of the movements of the farm population. _a_) Results both good and bad. _b_) Résumé of industrial and social results. 

CHAPTER II

Social Condition of the Rural Population

Nativity; color; illiteracy; families; health; temperance; crime;morality; pauperism; defectives; insanity; etc. 

CHAPTER III

The Social Psychology of Rural Life

1. Isolation and its results. 2. The farm home and its environment. 3. Traits of family life. 4. Traits of individual life. 

CHAPTER IV

The Social Aspect of Current Agricultural Questions

1. Tenant farming. 2. Large vs. Small farms. 3. Farm labor. 4. Irregular incomes. 5. Farm machinery. 6. Specialization in farming. 7. Immigration. 

Part II

SOCIAL FACTORS IN RURAL PROGRESS

CHAPTER I

Means of Communication in Rural Districts

1. Importance and status of rural communication. 2. The new movements for better rural communication. _a_) Highways. _b_) Rural free mail delivery. _c_) Rural telephone. _d_) Interurban electric railways. 

CHAPTER II

Farmers' Organizations

1. Value of. 2. Difficulties in organizing. 3. Forms that organizations may take. 4. History and work of farmers' organizations in the United States. 5. General deductions from study of farmers' organizations. 

CHAPTER III

Rural Education

1. Distinction between rural and agricultural education. 2. The country school. _a_) Its importance, organization, maintenance, instruction, and supervision. _b_) The rural school as a social center. _c_) The township unit, the consolidated school, the centralized school. 3. High-school privileges for rural pupils. 4. The rural library. 5. Other agencies for rural education. 

CHAPTER IV

Means of Agricultural Education

1. Historical. 2. Research in agriculture. 3. Agricultural instruction to resident students. _a_) Higher education in agriculture. _b_) Secondary education in agriculture. _c_) Primary education in agriculture. 4. Extension teaching in agriculture. 5. Miscellaneous agencies for agricultural education. _a_) Farmers' societies. _b_) The farm press. _c_) The county paper. _d_) Industrial departments of steam railways. 

CHAPTER V

The Rural Church

1. Present status. 2. Difficulties in country church work. 3. The awakening in the rural church. 4. The institutional rural church. 5. The Y. M. C. A. In the country. 6. The rural Sunday school. 7. The rural social settlement. 

CHAPTER VI

The Social Ideal for Agriculture

1. The importance of social agencies. 2. The preservation of the "American farmer" essential. 3. Relation of this ideal to our American civilization. 4. The federation or co-operation of rural social agencies. 

CHAPTER XVII

FEDERATION FOR RURAL PROGRESS

It is almost trite to assert the need of the "socialization"--to use amuch-worked phrase--of the country. It is possible that this need is notgreater than in the cities, but it is different. Among no class ofpeople is individualism so rampant as among farmers. For more than acentury the American farmer led the freest possible social life. Hisindependence was his glory. But, when the day of co-operation dawned, hefound himself out of tune with the movement, was disinclined to join theranks of organized effort, and he prefers even yet his personal andlocal independence to the truer freedom which can be secured onlythrough co-operative endeavor. Moreover, the social aspect of the ruralproblem is important not merely because the farmer is slow toco-operate. The farm problem is to be met by the activities of socialinstitutions. 

We may say (assuming the home life, of course) that the church, theschool, and the farmers' organization are the great rural socialinstitutions. They are the forces now most efficient, and the ones thatpromise to abide. This classification may appear to be a mere truism, when we suggest that under the church should be placed all thosemovements that have a distinctively religious motive, under the schoolall those agencies that are primarily educational in design, and underfarmers' organizations those associations whose chief function is tosettle questions which concern the farmer as a business man and acitizen. But the classification answers fairly well. It includespractically every device that has been suggested for rural betterment. 

There are two interesting facts about these rural institutions: (1) Noneof them is doing a tithe of what it ought to be doing to help solve thefarm problem. The church is apparently just about holding its own, though that is doubted by some observers. Rural schools are not, as arule, keeping pace with the demands being made upon them; comparativelyfew students in the whole country are studying scientific agriculture. Not one farmer in twenty belongs to a strong farmers' organization. (2)All these institutions are awakening to the situation. Progress duringthe last decade has been especially gratifying. Co-operative effortsamong farmers are more cautious, but more successful. The Grange hasnearly doubled its membership since 1890; and it, as well as other farmorganizations, has more real power than ever before. The rural-schoolquestion is one of the liveliest topics today among farmers as well aseducators. Opportunities for agricultural education have had a marvelousdevelopment within a decade. Discussion about rural church federation, the rural institutional church, rural social settlements, and evenexperiments in these lines are becoming noticeably frequent. The YoungMen's Christian Association has, its officers think, found the way toreach the country young man. 

The institutions which we have just discussed, together with theimprovement that comes from such physical agencies as assist quickercommunication (good wagon roads, telephones, rural mail delivery, electric roads), constitute the social forces that are to be dependedupon in rural betterment. None can be spared or ignored. The function ofeach must be understood and its importance recognized. To imagine thatsubstantial progress can result from the emphasis of any one agency tothe exclusion of any other is a mistake. To assert this is not toquarrel with the statement we frequently hear nowadays that "the_church_ should be the social and intellectual center of theneighborhood;" or that "the _school_ should be the social andintellectual center of the neighborhood;" or that "the _Grange_ shouldbe the social and intellectual center of the neighborhood. " It isfortunate that these statements have been made. They show anappreciation of a function of these agencies that has been neglected. The first item in rural social progress is that the country preacher, the rural teacher, the country doctor, the country editor, theagricultural editor, the agricultural college professor, and especiallythe farmer himself, shall see the social need of the farm community. Butto assert, for instance, that the church shall be _the_ social center ofthat community may lead to a partial and even to a fanatical view ofthings. I would not restrain in the slightest the enthusiasm of anypastor who wants to make his church occupy a central position incommunity life, nor of the teacher who wants to bring her school intorelation with all the economic and social life of the farm, nor of theleader of the farmers' organization who sees the good that may be donethrough the social and intellectual training which his organization cangive. But if there is danger that the preacher in the pursuit of thisideal, shall ignore the social function of the school and of thefarmers' organization, or that the teacher, or the farmer, or anybodyelse who is interested, shall fail to see that there is a logicaldivision of labor among rural social forces, and that it is only theintelligent and efficient and harmonious co-operation of all theseforces that will insure the best progress, then to such I appeal withall the power at my command to recognize not only the breadth of thewhole movement, but to appreciate the limitations of their own specialinterests. There are things that the church cannot do and should notattempt to do. There are things the school cannot do and should notattempt to do. Accepting our conventional division of social agencies, we may say that efficient rural progress stands upon a tripod of forces, and that balance can be maintained only when each is used in its propermeasure. 

We reach now the heart of the topic, which is how these various socialforces may be brought into co-operation--a co-operation that isintelligent and real. I would suggest, first of all, the encouragementof all efforts along this line that are already under way. Forinstance, there are scattered all over this country individual pastorswho are seeking to make their churches the social and intellectualbeacon-lights of the community. There are other individuals who areendeavoring to apply the social-settlement idea to the needs of thecountry. There are associations which attempt to bring together theteachers and the school patrons for mutual discussion of educationaltopics. In numerous instances the farmers' organizations include intheir membership the country pastor, the district school teacher andperhaps the country doctor. In these and doubtless in other ways theidea we are dealing with is being promulgated, and up to a certain pointthis fact of promiscuous initiative is entirely satisfactory anddesirable. So long as the work is done it makes little difference whodoes it. Every attempt to bring any of these agencies into closer touchwith the farm community is to be welcomed most heartily. But beyond acertain limit this promiscuous work must be unsatisfactory. The effortsand interests of any one social agency are bound to be partial. Indeedthe more effective such an agency is, the more partial it is likely tobe. Intensity is gained at the expense of breadth. The need forfederation exists in the desirability of securing both the intensity andthe breadth. 

The precise method of securing this federation of effort is not easy toforesee. It can be determined only by trial. It must be worked out inharmony with varying conditions. Some very general plans at once suggestthemselves: (1) Let the agricultural college in each state take the leadin the movement, acting not so much as an organization as aclearing-house and a go-between. Let it direct conferences on thesubject, and seek to bring all who are interested in rural affairs intotouch and sympathy. (2) Have a "League for Rural Progress, " made up ofrepresentatives from the churches, the agricultural colleges, thedepartments of public instruction, the farm press, various farmers'organizations, etc. (3) Enlarge the "Hesperia movement, " which now seeksto secure co-operation between school and farmers' organization, byincluding in it the church. 

It may be of interest to note that this idea of a federation of ruralsocial forces is getting a foothold and has indeed already crystallizedinto organization. A brief description of what has actually been donewill therefore not be out of place. 

So far as the writer is aware, the first meeting based on the definiteidea of co-operation between school, church, and Grange was held atMorris, Connecticut, in the summer of 1901 and was organized by Rev. F. A. Holden, then pastor at Morris. This meeting was a very successfullocal affair, held in connection with "Old Home Week" celebration. 

Probably the first attempt to hold a similar meeting on a large scalewas the conference at the Agricultural College, Michigan, in February, 1902. It was a joint meeting of the Michigan Political ScienceAssociation and the Agricultural College and farmers' institutes. Thepractical initiative was taken by the Political Science Associationunder the leadership of its secretary, Professor Henry C. Adams, who hadthe cordial co-operation of President Snyder of the Agricultural Collegeand Professor C. D. Smith, then superintendent of farmers' institutes. It was a notable gathering, and its promoters were rejoiced to see thesplendid attendance of farmers particularly; teachers and clergymen didnot attend as freely as might have been expected. The programme was astrong one and included men of national reputation and topics covering awide range of interests. 

The addresses were published in the _Michigan Farmers' InstituteBulletin_ for 1901-02, and were also gathered into a publication of theMichigan Political Science Association under the title _Social Problemsof the Farmer_. 

The state of Rhode Island has organized on a permanent basis. In 1904there was held in Kingston, at the College of Agriculture and MechanicArts, a "Conference on Rural Progress. " It was a one-day meeting, wellattended by representative farmers, clergymen, and educators. Acommittee was appointed to discuss further procedure, and the next yearthere was held in the halls of Brown University a two-days' conference. The programme included addresses on: The Grange, The Country Church, School Gardens, and several phases of practical agriculture. Among thespeakers were the assistant secretary of agriculture, Hon. N. J. Bachelder, now Master of the National Grange, and Dr. Josiah Strong. 

In the spring of 1906 there was organized "The Rhode Island League forRural Progress, " which was constituted through representation from thefollowing organizations: State Board of Agriculture; Rhode IslandCollege of Agriculture; State Federation of Churches; State Grange;State Association of School Superintendents; State League of ImprovementSocieties; Washington County Agricultural Society; Newport AgriculturalSociety; Rhode Island Horticultural Society; Newport HorticulturalSociety; Rhode Island Poultry Association; Florists and Gardeners' Club;Kingston Improvement Association. 

This league held the Third Annual Conference on Rural Progress, April 10and 11, 1906, the first day's session being at Brown University, Providence, and the second day's at East Greenwich. Its fourth meetingwas held in Newport in March, 1907. In Rhode Island the idea lying backof this conference has certainly approved itself to all who areinterested in rural matters. 

The following is the constitution of the league:

 CONSTITUTION

 Rhode Island League for Rural Progress

 I. NAME. --The name of this body shall be the "Rhode Island League for Rural Progress. "

 II. OBJECT. --The object of the League shall be to secure the co-operation of the various individuals, organizations, and agencies which are working for any phase of rural advancement in this state. 

 III. MEMBERSHIP. --Any organization interested in rural advancement, which may desire to co-operate with the work of the League, may be represented in the League. 

 Any individual in the state interested in rural progress may become a member of the League upon the payment of one dollar annual fee. 

 IV. OFFICERS. --The administrative work of the League shall be conducted by a council, to be composed of one delegate from each organization represented in the League, to serve until superseded. The council at the time of each annual conference shall choose from among its members a president, a vice-president, and a secretary-treasurer, and these officers shall act as an executive committee. 

 V. MEETINGS. --The meetings of the League shall be held at the call of the executive committee. There shall, however, be at least one annual Conference on rural progress held under the auspices of the League. 

 VI. FINANCES. --The funds necessary to forward the work of the League may come from three sources:

 _a_) Contributions made by organizations belonging to the League and represented on the council, such contributions to be voluntary and in such amount as the respective organizations may designate. The council may, however, make up a schedule of desired contributions from the various organizations and present it to the different organizations. 

 _b_) Membership fees from individual members, $1. 00 per year from each member. 

 _c_) Private subscriptions. 

Probably the first successful attempt to organize a permanent league forrural progress was accomplished in 1904 through the efforts of Rev. G. T. Nesmith, of Hebron, Ill. It was called "The McHenry CountyFederation, " and has held three annual meetings and seems to be on asolid basis. Mr. Nesmith has endeavored to keep the purpose of theleague on a high plane by endeavoring to state clearly the object of thefederation, which is, "that the people of McHenry County might havelife, and have it more abundantly, and this life was not to be a narrowlife. It was the largest aggregate and highest symmetry of the sixfoldends of individual and community action, viz. , health, wealth, knowledge, sociability, beauty, and righteousness. " He also endeavoredto make it clear that "the federation does not seek to supplant theother forces. It rather seeks to be a clearing-house of the ideas of allthe federated organizations; to be a mount of vision from which each maylook and get a complete vision of life; to be a fraternal bond whichshall link all together in common ties of sympathy, fellowship, andco-operation. "

The results thus far obtained are perhaps best described by quoting thewords of Mr. G. W. Conn, Jr. , superintendent of schools of McHenryCounty:

 There is one noticeable omission in the constitution--a provision for the proper financing of the federation. This is partially explained by the fact that the federation has largely centered about the county Teachers' Association and the county Farmers' Institute, organizations that are supported in a financial way by the county and the state appropriations. These appropriations, in addition to some voluntary gifts, have been sufficient to meet the necessary expenses of the meetings. 

 I think that I am safe in saying that the interest and also the attendance has probably increased 100 per cent. At each session. Each year has also seen a much larger percentage of our local men and women helping out on the programme. It is a little early in its history to expect much evidence of material results, but I believe that results are already putting in an appearance, especially from the esthetic standpoint. Without doubt more trees have been planted about the country homes and along the country roadsides of this county than in any two preceding years. In a great many places roads have been cleaned. Refuse and weeds have been removed and burned. Landscape gardening on a simple scale is putting in an appearance in places where it was little expected. The naming of farms is another feature that is rapidly growing. Boys' country clubs are being formed and this year, for the first time, three of these clubs met with the federation, had a banquet, and formed a county organization. 

 Of course not all of these movements are rightfully to be attributed to the direct influence of the county federation. The public schools of the county have been largely instrumental in stirring the public conscience to a livelier appreciation of the beautiful. The regular observance of Arbor and Bird Days in our schools has done much toward initiating this movement. However, the federation has been the great factor in uniting otherwise independent organizations into one large machine for stirring the social consciousness and molding public sentiment. It has proved to be an efficient association in at least three ways, in co-ordinating our efforts, harmonizing our methods, and broadening the field of operation. 

The constitution of this league is given herewith in full:

 1. NAME. --The name of this organization shall be, The McHenry County Federation of Rural Forces. 

 2. OBJECT. --The object of the Federation is to gain a higher symmetry and a larger aggregate of health, wealth, knowledge, sociability, beauty, and righteousness to the citizens of McHenry County. 

 3. ELEMENTS OF THE FEDERATION. --The Federation shall consist of the following organizations: The Farmers' Institute, Teachers' Association, Domestic Science Association, Pastors' Association, Women's Christian Temperance Union, and the Young Men's Christian Association. 

 4. MEMBERSHIP. --Any county organization may become a member of the federation by recommendation of the Executive Committee. 

 5. OFFICERS. --The officers of the Federation shall consist of a president, as many vice-presidents as there are component organizations, a secretary-treasurer, and an Executive Committee. 

 6. COMMITTEES. --The Executive Committee shall be composed of the president, the secretary-treasurer, and the presidents of the component organizations. 

 There shall be an Auditing Committee and a Committee on Resolutions, each consisting of three members and to be appointed by the president. 

 The Nominating Committee shall consist of two members from each of the component organizations and they shall be appointed by the president. 

 7. DUTIES. --The Executive Committee shall select the date and fix the place of every meeting. They shall also prepare the programme. 

 The presidents of the component organizations shall be _ex-officio_ vice-presidents of the Federation. 

 8. AUDITING. --All bills shall be paid by the treasurer after the same have been countersigned by the Auditing Committee. 

 9. TERM OF OFFICE. --The terms of all officers shall be one year or until their successors are elected. 

 10. HOW ELECTED. --All officers shall be elected by ballot. 

The Massachusetts Conference for Town and Village Betterment has dealtwith some phases of the federation idea. Its object is "to contribute tothe formation of a strong, definite, and united purpose among the forcesworking for the improvement of civic and social conditions inMassachusetts, by bringing together all town and village improvementsocieties, citizen's associations, civic clubs, and other organizationsinterested in this purpose. "

The Massachusetts Agricultural College, in celebrating the fortiethanniversary of its opening to students, October 2, 1907, held a fourdays' conference on rural progress. The programme covered nearly thewhole field of rural development and was made possible by theco-operation of the State Board of Agriculture, the State Grange, theMassachusetts Civic League, the Connecticut Valley Congregational Club, the State Committee of the Y. M. C. A. , the Western MassachusettsLibrary Club, and the Head-Masters' Club of the Connecticut Valley. Nopermanent organization was formed, but the general idea of federation ofrural social forces was fully emphasized and thoroughly appreciated. 

An attempt was made in the spring of 1907 to bring together the variouselements of rural progress in all the New England states. Under theinitiative of the Massachusetts State Board of Agriculture there washeld in March, 1907, a New England Conference on Rural Progress. Thismeeting was held very largely for the purpose of discovering thesentiment among the leaders of New England agriculture with respect tothe desirability and practicability of federating on so large a scale. In addition to the main meeting, the presidents of the agriculturalcolleges of New England were called together in a special section, andthe same was true of the directors of the New England experimentstations, the masters of the various state granges, the secretaries ofthe various state boards of agriculture, and the leaders in the NewEngland Federation of Churches. 

The idea of federation was clearly approved by the delegates present, and a temporary organization was effected. It was voted to hold asimilar conference in Boston in the spring of 1908. 

It is probably true that the first and most important step in bringingabout a federation of rural social forces is to educate all concerned tothe _desirability_ of such a federation--to sow the seeds of the idea. So far as machinery is concerned it may not be necessary to form any neworganization. Indeed, what is chiefly necessary is a sort of_clearing-house_ for an exchange of ideas and plans among all who are atwork on any phase of the rural social problem. There is need of acentral bureau that shall emphasize the necessity of a study ofagricultural economics and rural sociology, and press the value ofco-operation in the work of social progress in the country. There isneed that somewhere "tab" shall be kept on the whole rural socialmovement. We need a directing force to assure a comprehensive view andstudy of the whole rural problem. It is important that someinvestigations should be carried on that are not likely to be taken upby some other agency. It would be desirable to have a certain amount ofpublication, and in various other ways to carry on a campaign ofeducation. Above all, it would be desirable to initiate local, state, and national conferences pervaded by the spirit and purpose of securingthe hearty co-operation of all rural social forces, of all theorganizations that have any rural connection whatever, and of allindividuals who have the slightest genuine interest in any phase of thefarm problem. 

Such a bureau should keep in constant touch with, secure the confidenceof, and supply appropriate literature to, country teachers, preachers, editors, doctors, and business men, and, more than all, to intelligentand progressive farmers. And let me add at this point, that it must befully understood that the work contemplated cannot possibly achievelarge success unless it is done _with_ the farmers, rather than _for_the farmers. The problem is far from that of doing a missionary work fora down-trodden and ignorant class. It is a much less heroic, a much morecommonplace task. It is simply carrying the idea of co-operation ofindividuals a step farther, and endeavoring to secure the co-operationof interests that have precisely the same goal, although traveling upondifferent roads. The prime purpose of the movement is to bring thespecialist into close touch with the more general phases of the problem, to secure breadth and wholeness, to assure well-balanced effort. 

 [NOTE. --A paper with the title of this chapter was read before the American Civic Association in 1901, at Minneapolis. A portion of the paper is retained here. The history of the development of the idea of federation is brought down to the present time. ]