THE MORALE OF RURAL LIFE. 



373 



aspect, elevation and the like. But far ex- 

 lending around these lies an almost illimita- 

 ble country, every rood of which the long- 

 est lifetime could not suffice perfectly to 

 explore. 



Again, agriculture, having the tv(?ofold na- 

 ture of other sciences, is an art, and the 

 most essential of all arts. It is the crite- 

 rion of civilization everywhere upon the 

 habitable globe. 



There are savage wilds, where beasts of 

 prey and barbarous men struggle for uncer- 

 tain supremacy. There are cities where 

 the children of artificial life, learning, ig- 

 norance, luxury, want, virtue and vice, 

 breathe the same close atmosphere, wonder 

 at each other's envy, annoy each other's 

 lives, and gladly dig each other's graves ! 

 And between those wilds and cities, agri- 

 culture extends her broad fields as a per- 

 petual barrier ; while her sons go forth now 

 to hold up the light of learning and religion 

 to the benighted child of the wilderness, 

 and now to supplant, with their iron energy, 

 the effeminate offspring of city life, or to 

 oppose their physical hardihood against an 

 invading foe. 



Agriculture, politically viewed, is of the 

 highest order of occupations. The source 

 of a nation's strength, wealth, prosperity, 

 and of the consideration which she receives 

 abroad, it is indeed the only solid indus- 

 trial foundation upon which national great- 

 ness can safely rest. For what stronger 

 pillar of national independence than the 

 product of a nation's own soil, improved by 

 her own labor ? 



And this pursuit has moral and religious 

 bearings. Listen to Jefferson: *' Those 

 who labor in the earth are the chosen peo- 

 ple of God, whose breasts he has made his 

 peculiar deposite for substantial and genu- 

 ine virtue." If such be the teachings of phi- 

 losophy, what higher commendation might 



not come from the farther-reaching obser- 

 vation of Christianity ? 



This primeval employment of man pre- 

 sents still other claims. It is the most 

 healthful of all occupations ; healthful for 

 the body, the mind, and the soul. What 

 other pursuit, by which men obtain honest 

 bread, affords such vigorous training for the 

 physical powers, such various and extensive 

 ranges of mental exercises ? 



And where may the moral nature of man 

 be preserved unsullied from vice, and grow 

 and expand more than amid rural scenes, 

 and beneath the purest air of heaven ? 



The farmer's life is not scratch, scratch, 

 with the pen — rap, rap, with the hammer 

 — nor an everlasting unpacking and re- 

 packing of the product of another's labor. 

 He walks forth under the open sky, his 

 broad acres spread out beneath his feet; 

 the blue concave, sunlit or starlit, or shroud- 

 ed in clouds, is still above him. Health 

 claims him as her favorite child, and the 

 glorious sun loves to kiss a cheek that is 

 not ashamed to wear the ruddy imprint of 

 such affection. Nature's own inimitable 

 music of babbling brooks, birds, breeze, or 

 rustling foliage, enters his ear on its glad 

 mission to his heart. He listens to instruc- 

 tive voices, continually speaking from the 

 universe around him. His eye gathers truth 

 from unwritten pages of wisdom, every- 

 v^here open before him. Each day, each 

 month, season after season, year after year, 

 these teachings are given to him, infinite in 

 variety, and endless in extent. 



When toward the close of a sultry day 

 the summer's blessing comes pouring down, 

 and as in the beautiful poetry of the sacred 

 volume, — "the trees of the field clap their 

 hands," and "the valleys, covered over with 

 corn, shout for joy," the farmer, retiring 

 from his labors to the friendly shelter of his 

 cottage-roof, improves his leisure hours with 



