220 SIGNS AND SEASONS 



find the people, or tribes, all living in villages or 

 little cities. You step from the jungle or forest 

 into the town; there is no country. The best and 

 most hopeful feature in any people is undoubtedly 

 the instinct that leads them to the country and to 

 take root there, and not that which sends them 

 nocking to the town and its distractions. 



The lighter the snow, the more it drifts; and the 

 more frivolous the people, the more they are blown 

 by one wind or another into towns and cities. 



The only notable exception I recall to city life 

 preceding country life is furnished by the ancient 

 Germans, of whom Tacitus says that they had no 

 cities or contiguous settlements. "They dwell scat- 

 tered and separate, as a spring, a meadow, or a 

 grove may chance to invite them. Their villages 

 are laid out, not like ours [the Komans] in rows of 

 adjoining buildings, but every one surrounds his 

 house with a vacant space, either by way of security, 

 or against fire, or through ignorance of the art of 

 building." 



These ancient Germans were indeed true country- 

 men. Little wonder that they overran the empire 

 of the city-loving Romans, and finally sacked Home 

 itself. How hairy and hardy and virile they were! 

 In the same way is the more fresh and vigorous 

 blood of the country always making eruptions into 

 the city. The Goths and Vandals from the Avoods 

 and the farms, what would Rome do without 

 them, after all? The city rapidly uses men up; 

 families run out, man becomes sophisticated and 



