SELECTION OF LOCATION. 221 



ranee and carelessness, diffused through it, so that what is in- 

 tended as our greatest physical blessing becomes our greatest 

 curse. Next to the pollution of sin, there is nothing we should 

 more strive against than a polluted atmosphere. In selecting a 

 location for our farms, we are particular to select a good soil, 

 that may furnish food for our families and for our stock. Are 

 we as particular to select a site for our homes where the air may 

 be pure, so that we may enjoy health, without which other bless- 

 ings are little worth ? And when the site for this home is se- 

 lected, are we careful to keep the air around it salubrious ? Is 

 not the neighboring swamp too often left undrained, so that the 

 rank growth of vegetable matter, in its decay, sends forth 

 miasma and death ? Does not the effluvia from the barnyard 

 or the pig-pen sometimes become a stench in the nostrils of the 

 children, instead of being retained by some absorbent to fertilize 

 the farm ? We are confident the cellar is the hot-bed of much 

 disease in many houses. Cabbages and other vegetables are al- 

 lowed to decay, or some putrid meat is allowed to defile the air ; 

 or, worse still, the stench from the sink-drains, full of the seeds 

 of death, is scattered through the house. We look into the 

 home of the squatter, on some Western bottom land, and see 

 the children pale and shivering with bilious fever, and although 

 the pioneer may be surrounded with the deepest and richest soil, 

 we pity him. In the East we are fortunately pretty much ex- 

 empt from intermittent fever ; but we find many farm-houses 

 located in low, damp situations, where the evaporation keeps 

 the air constantly cool, or where the fog intercepts the sun's 

 rays till he has travelled far towards the zenith. 



That the climate is affected by the soil, must be patent to the 

 most careless traveller over our hills and through our valleys. 

 As we ride or walk, especially in the evening, we notice differ- 

 ent currents of air — at one place dry and invigorating, and at 

 another damp and chilly. If we study these different currents, 

 we shall find the warm air comes over a soil naturally dry or 

 well drained, and the cold air from some boggy meadow. We 

 were struck with these different currents, as we, last August, 

 after the pleasant meeting of the Board at Amherst, where we 

 had sat sipping our tea on the piazza of President Clark, with- 

 out a thought of a chilly air, we rode down the Amherst hills 

 into the low lands of East Hadley. We felt that we had passed 



