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are requisite to great and successful efforts, alike in the field and the 

 workshop, at the merchant's desk and in the halls of legislation. Our 

 agricultural population can never be what they ought to be, until every 

 man walks abroad, not only in the dignity of his own nature, but in the 

 just pride of his own calling; until every man feels that a farm, worked 

 by his own hands, is better than a patent of nobility ; that a family 

 clothed in articles of their own manufacture, is more respectable than if 

 the jeweled gifts of Princes hung upon their necks, or glistened upon their 

 idle fingers. Let the farmer understand, that in this country, we have 

 no vagabond race of gentlemen, heirs to idleness and successors to pomp, 

 luxury, and vice ; no lineal aristocracy, absorbing the dignity, the honor 

 and the power of all other classes, and yet contributing nothing to the 

 products of the earth or the common good of mankind. But let it be 

 known everywhere — known, practised, and felt, that labor is honorable ; 

 that idleness is disreputable ; that he Avho eats his bread in the sweat of 

 his brow, not only submits to no servitude, but stands justified before 

 God and man, as fulfilling the law of his existence.; as doing that, which 

 if all men would do, earth would be immeasurably relieved of the curse, 

 and its inhabitants made as prosperous, as independent, and as happy as 

 our fallen nature admits. Hence, I say further, that the farmer should 

 be industrious. Idleness is the parent of all the vices ; industry of nearly 

 all the virtues. I have never known an industrious community that was 

 not prosperous, independent, peaceful, and virtuous. Industry promotes 

 not only the health of the body, but that of the mind and heart. Its 

 achievements are almost inconceivable. The constant dropping of water 

 wears away the massive and solid rock. The continued clicking of a 

 single hammer, worked by a single hand, during the hours of labor in 

 one man's life, would beat into atoms the entire Capitol at Washington. 

 Industry overcomes all obstacles. It circumnavigates the globe ; it digs 

 into the bowels of the earth ; it scales with ease the frightful precipice ; 

 it propels the weary ox, slow-footed and heavy laden, from his home in 

 the east, across the continent, over arid plains and deep marshes, up 

 rocky steeps and snowy mountains, till he descends the western slopes 

 and drinks of those streams "whose foam is amber and whose gravel 

 gold." Industry adorns alike the humble cot and the most costly man- 

 sion. It is the magic wand, which, like that of Midas, transmutes all 

 .baser metals into gold. Industry works by system. It has a place for 

 everything, and everything in its place. It has a time for everything, 



