Letter 2 from American Farmer Letters by Crevecoeur

Letters From An American Farmer

J. Hector St. John de Crèvecoeur

COLOPHON

Text: Letters From an American Farmer, by J. Hector St. John de Crèvecoeur, reprinted from the original ed., with a prefatory note by W. P. Trent and an introduction by Ludwig Lewisohn. New York, Fox, Duffield, 1904.

Formatted and linked to xroads: Eric J. Gislason 2/6/96

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LETTER II.

ON THE SITUATION, FEELINGS, AND PLEASURES, OF AN AMERICAN FARMER.

AS you are the first enlightened European I have ever had the pleasure of being acquainted with, you will not be surprised that I should, according to your earnest desire and my promise, appear anxious of preserving your friendship and correspondence. By your accounts, I observe a material difference subsists between your husbandry, modes, and customs, and ours; every thing is local; could we enjoy the advantages of the English farmer, we should be much happier, indeed, but this wish, like many others, implies a contradiction; and could the English farmer have some of those privileges we possess, they would be the first of their class in the world. Good and evil I see is to be found in all societies, and it is in vain to seek for any spot where those ingredients are not mixed. I there-fore rest satisfied, and thank God that my lot is to be an American farmer, instead of a Russian boor, or an Hungarian peasant. I thank you kindly for the idea, however dreadful, which you

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you have given me of their lot and condition; your observations have confirmed me in the justness of my ideas, and I am happier now I thought myself before. It is strange that misery, when viewed in others, should become to us a sort of real good, though I am far from to hear that there are in the world men thoroughly wretched; they are no doubt as harmless, industrious, and willing to work as we are. Hard is their fate to be thus condemned to a slavery worse than that of our negroes. Yet when young I entertained some thoughts of selling my farm. I thought it afforded but a dull repetition of the same labours and pleasures. I thought the former tedious and heavy, the latter few and insipid; but when I came to consider myself as divested of my farm I then found the world so wide, and every place so full, that I began to fear lest there would be no room for me. My farm, my house, my barn, presented to my imagination, objects from which I adduced quite new ideas; they were more forcible than before. Why should not I find myself happy, said I, where my father was? He left me no good books it is true, he gave me no other education than the art of reading and writing; but he left me a good farm, and his experience; he left me free from debts, and no kind of difficulties to struggle with

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with.–I married, and this perfectly reconciled me to my situation; my wife rendered my house all at once chearful and pleasing; it no longer appeared gloomy and solitary as before; when I went to work in my fields I worked with more alacrity and sprightliness; I felt that I did notwork for myself alone, and this encouraged me much. My wife would often come with her kitting in her hand, and sit under the shady trees, praising the straightness of my furrows,and the docility of my horses; this swelled my heart and made every thing light and pleasant,and I regretted that I had not married before.I felt myself happy in my new situation, and where is that station which can confer a more substantial system of felicity than that of an American farmer, possessing freedom of action,freedom of thoughts, ruled by a mode of gov-ernment which requires but little from us?owe nothing, but a pepper corn to my country, a small tribute to my king, with loyalty and due respect; I know no other landlord than the lord of all land, to whom I owe the most sincere gratitude. My father left me three hundred and seventy-one acres of land, forty-seven of which are good timothy meadow, an excellent orchard, a good house, and a substantial barn.It is my duty to think how happy I am that he lived to build and to pay for all these improve-ments

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ments; what are the labours which I have to undergo, what are my fatigues when compared to his, who had every thing to do, from the first tree he felled to the finishing of his house?Every year I kill from I500 to 2,000 weight of pork, I,200 of beef, half a dozen of goodwethers in harvest: of fowls my wife has al-ways a great stock: what can I wish more? My negroes are tolerably faithful and healthy; by along series of industry and honest dealings, my father left behind him the name of a good man;I have but to tread his paths to be happy and a good man like him. I know enough of the law to regulate my little concerns with pro-priety, nor do I dread its power; these are the |grand outlines of my situation, but as I can feel much more than I am able to express, I hardly know how to proceed. When my first son was born, the whole train of my ideas were sud-denly altered; never was there a charm that acted so quickly and powerfully; I ceased to ramble in imagination through the wide world;my excursions since have not exceeded the bounds of my farm, and all my principal pleas-ures are now centered within its scanty limits:but at the same time there is not an operation belonging to it in which I do not find some food for useful reflections. This is the reason, I suppose, that when you was here, you used, in your

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your refined stile, to denominate me the farmer of feelings; how rude must those feelings be in him who daily holds the axe or the plough, how much more refined on the contrary those of the European, whose mind is improved by educa-tion, example, books, and by every acquired ad-vantage! Those feelings, however, I will de-lineate as well as I can, agreeably to your ear-nest request. When I contemplate my wife, by my fire-side, while she either spins, knits, darns,or suckles our child, I cannot describe the vari-ous emotions of love, of gratitude, of conscious pride which thrill in my heart, and often over-flow in involuntary tears. I feel the necessity,the sweet pleasure of acting my part, the part of an husband and father, with an attention and propriety which may entitle me to my good fortune. It is true these pleasing images vanish with the smoke of my pipe, but though they disappear from my mind, the impression they have made on my heart is indelible. When I play with the infant, my warm imagination runs forward, and eagerly anticipates his future temper and constitution. I would willingly open the book of fate, and know in which page his destiny is delineated; alas ! where is the father who in those moments of paternal ecstacy can delineate one half of the thoughts which dilate his heart ? I am sure I cannot; then again I fear

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fear for the health of those who are becomeo dear to me, and in their sicknesses I severely for the joys I experienced while they were. Whenever I go abroad it is always in-. I never return home without feeling pleasing emotion, which I often suppress useless and foolish. The instant I enter on own land, the bright idea of property, of xclusive right, of independence exalt my mind.Precious soil, I say to myself, by what singular custom of law is it that thou wast made to con-the riches of the freeholder ? What should we American farmers be without the distinct possession of that soil? It feeds, it clothes us, from it we draw even a great ex uberancy, our best meat, our richest drink, the very honey of our bees comes from this priv ileged spot. No wonder we should thus cherish its possession, no wonder that so many Euro-who have never been able to say that such portion of land was theirs, cross the Atlantic to realize that happiness. This formerly rude soil has been converted by my father into a pleasant farm, and in return it has established all our rights; on it is founded our rank, our freedom, our power as citizens, our importance as inhabitants of such a district. These images I must confess I always behold with pleasure,and extend them as far as my imagination can reach

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reach: for this is what may be called the true and the only philosophy of an American farmer. Pray do not laugh in thus seeing an artless countryman tracing himself through the simple modifications of his life; remember that you have required it, therefore with candor.though with diffidence, I endeavour to follow the thread of my feelings, but I cannot tell you all. Often when I plough my low ground, I place my little boy on a chair which screws to the beam of the plough–its motion and that of the horses please him, he is perfectly happy and begins to chat. As I lean over the handle,various are the thoughts which croud into my mind. I am now doing for him, I say, what my father formerly did for me, may God en-able him to live that he may perform the same operations for the same purposes when I am worn out and old ! I relieve his mother of some trouble while I have him with me, the odor-iferous furrow exhilarates his spirits, and seems to do the child a great deal of good, for he looks more blooming since I have adopted that practice; can more pleasure, more dignity be added to that primary occupation ? The father thus ploughing with his child, and to feed his family, is inferior only to the emperor of China ploughing as an example to his kingdom. In the evening when I return home through my low

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low grounds, I am astonished at the myriads of insects which I perceive dancing in the beams of the setting sun. I was before scarcely ac-quainted with their existence, they are so small that it is difficult to distinguish them; they are 1carefully improving this short evening space,not daring to expose themselves to the blaze of our meridian sun. I never see an egg brought on my table but I feel penetrated with the won-derful change it would have undergone but for my gluttony; it might have been a gentle use-ful hen leading her chickens with a care and vigilance which speaks shame to many women.A cock perhaps, arrayed with the most ma-jestic plumes, tender to its mate, bold, cour-ageous, endowed with an astonishing instinct,with thoughts, with memory, and every distin-guishing characteristic of the reason of man. I never see my trees drop their leaves and their fruit in the autumn, and bud again in the spring, without wonder; the sagacity of those animals which have long been the tenants of my farm astonish me: some of them seem to sur-pass even men in memory and sagacity. I could tell you singular instances of that kind. What then is this instinct which we so debase, and of which we are taught to entertain so diminutive an idea? My bees, above any other tenants of my farm, attract my attention and respect; I am astonished

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astonished to see that nothing exists but what has its enemy, one species pursue and live upon the other: unfortunately our kingbirds are the destroyers of those industrious insects; but on the other hand, these birds preserve our fields from the depredation of crows which they pur-sue on the wing with great vigilance and aston-ishing dexterity. Thus divided by two inter-ested motives, I have long resisted the desire I had to kill them, until last year, when I thought they increased too much, and my indulgence had been carried too far; it was at the time of swarming when they all came and fixed them-selves on the neighbouring trees, from whence they catched those that returned loaded from the fields. This made me resolve to kill as many as I could, and I was just ready to fire,when a bunch of bees as big as my fist, issued from one of the hives, rushed on one of the birds, and probably strung him, for he instantly screamed, and flew, not as before, in an irregu-lar manner, but in a direct line. He was fol-lowed by the same bold phalanx, at a consider-able distance, which unfortunately becoming too sure of victory, quitted their military array and disbanded themselves. By this inconsider-ate step they lost all that aggregate of force which had made the bird fly off. Perceiving their disorder he immediately returned and snapped

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snapped as many as he wanted; nay he had even the impudence to alight on the very twig from which the bees had drove him. I killed him and immediately opened his craw, from which I took I7I bees; I laid them all on a blanket in the sun, and to my great surprise 54returned to life, licked themselves clean, and joyfully went back to the hive; where they probably informed their companions of such an adventure and escape, as I believe had never happened before to American bees! I draw a great fund of pleasure from the quails which inhabit my farm; they abundantly repay me, by their various notes and peculiar tameness, for the inviolable hospitality I constantly shew them in the winter. Instead of perfidiously tak-ing advantage of their great and affecting dis-tress, when nature offers nothing but a barren universal bed of snow, when irresistible neces-sity forces them to my barn doors, I permit them to feed unmolested; and it is not the least agreeable spectacle which that dreary season presents, when I see those beautiful birds,tamed by hunger, intermingling with all my cattle and sheep, seeking in security for the poor scanty grain which but for them would be useless and lost. Often in the angles of the fences where the motion of the wind prevents the snow from settling, I carry them both chaff and

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and grain; the one to feed them, the other to prevent their tender feet from freezing fast to the earth as I have frequently observed them to do. I do not know an instance in which the singular barbarity of man is so strongly de-lineated, as in the catching and murthering those harmless birds, at that cruel season of the year. Mr. ***, one of the most famous and ex-traordinary farmers that has ever done honour to the province of Connecticut, by his timely and humane assistance in a hard winter, saved this species from being entirely destroyed.They perished all over the country, none of their delightful whistlings were heard the next spring, but upon this gentleman’s farm; and to his humanity we owe the continuation of their music. When the severities of that season have dispirited all my cattle, no farmer ever attends them with more pleasure than I do � it is one of those duties which is sweetened with the most rational satisfaction. I amuse myself in behold-ing their different tempers, actions, and the various effects of their instinct now powerfully impelled by the force of hunger. I trace their various inclinations, and the different effects of their passions, which are exactly the same as among men; the law is to us precisely what I am in my barn yard, a bridle and check to pre-vent the strong and greedy, from oppressing the

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the timid and weak. Conscious of superiority they always strive to encroach on their neigh-bours; unsatisfied with their portion, they eagerly swallow it in order to have an oppor-tunity of taking what is given to others, except they are prevented. Some I chide, others, un-mindful of my admonitions, receive some blows. Could victuals thus be given to men with-out the assistance of any language, I am sure they would not behave better to one another, nor more philosophically than my cattle do.The same spirit prevails in the stable; but there I have to do with more generous animals, there my well known voice has immediate influence,and soon restores peace and tranquillity. Thus by superior knowledge I govern all my cattle as wise men are obliged to govern fools and the ignorant. A variety of other thoughts croud on my mind at that peculiar instant, but they all vanish by the time I return home. If in a cold night I swiftly travel in my sledge, carried along at the rate of twelve miles an hour, many are the reflections excited by surrounding cir-cumstances. I ask myself what sort of an agent is that which we call frost ? Our minister com-pares it to needles, the points of which enters our pores. What is become of the heat of the summer; in what part of the world is it that the N. W. keeps these grand magazines of nitre?when

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when I see in the morning a river over which I can travel, that in the evening before was liquid, I am astonished indeed! What is be-come of those millions of insects which played in our summer fields, and in our evening meadows; they were so puny and so delicate,the period of their existence was so short, that one cannot help wondering how they could learn, in that short space, the sublime art to hide themselves and their offspring in so perfect a manner as to baffle the rig our of the season, and preserve that precious embrio of life, that small portion of ethereal heat, which if once de-stroyed would destroy the species! Whence that irresistible propensity to sleep so common in all those who are severely attacked by the frost. Dreary as this season appears, yet it has like all others its miracles, it presents to man a variety of problems which he can never resolve;among the rest, we have here a set of small birds which never appear until the snow falls;contrary to all others, they dwell and appear to delight in that element. It is my bees, however, which afford me the most pleasing and extensive themes; let me look at them when I will, their government, their industry, their quarrels, their passions, always present me with something new; for which rea-son, when weary with labour, my commonplace

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place of rest is under my locust-tree, close by my bee-house. By their movements I can pre-dict the weather, and can tell the day of their swarming; but the most difficult point is, when on the wing, to know whether they want to go to the woods or not. If they have previously pitched in some hollow trees, it is not the allure-ments of salt and water, of fennel, hickory leaves, &c. nor the finest box, that can induce them to stay; they will prefer those rude, rough habitations to the best polished mahogany hive.When that is the case with mine, I seldom thwart their inclinations; it is in freedom that they work: were I to confine them, they would dwindle away and quit their labour. In such excursions we only part for a while; I am gen-erally sure to find them again the following fall.This elopement of theirs only adds to my rec-reations; I know how to deceive even their superlative instinct; nor do I fear losing them,though eighteen miles from my house, and lodged in the most lofty trees, in the most Im-pervious of our forests. I once took you along with me in one of these rambles, and yet you insist on my repeating the detail of our opera-tions it brings back into my mind many of the useful and entertaining reflections with which you so happily beguiled our tedious hours.After I have done sowing, by way of recreation,

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tion, I prepare for a week’s jaunt in the woods,not to hunt either the deer or the bears, as my neighbours do, but to catch the more harmless bees. I cannot boast that this chase is so noble,or so famous among men, but I find it less fatiguing, and full as profitable; and the last consideration is the only one that moves me. I take with me my dog, as a companion, for h eis useless as to this game; my gun, for no man you know ought to enter the woods without one; my blanket, some provisions, some wax,vermilion, honey, and a small pocket compass.With these implements I proceed to such woods as are at a considerable distance from any set-tlements. I carefully examine whether they abound with large trees, if so, I make a small fire on some flat stones, in a convenient place;on the fire I put some wax; close by this fire, on another stone, I drop honey in distinct drops,which I surround with small quantities of ver-million, laid on the stone; and then I retire care-fully to watch whether any bees appear. If there are any in that neighbourhood, I rest as-sured that the smell of the burnt wax will un-avoidably attract them; they will soon find out the honey, for they are fond of preying on that which is not their own; and in their approach they will necessarily tinge themselves with some particles of vermillion, which will adhere long

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to their bodies. I next fix my compass, to find out their course, which they keep invariably strait, when they are returning home loaded.By the assistance of my watch, I observe how long those are returning which are marked with vermillion. Thus possessed of the course, and,in some measure, of the distance, which I can easily guess at, I follow the first, and seldom fail of coming to the tree where those republics are lodged. I then mark it; and thus, with patience, I have found out sometimes eleven swarms in a season; and it is inconceivable what a quantity of honey these trees wil sometimes afford. It entirely depends on the size of the hollow, as the bees never rest nor swarm till it is all replenished; for like men, it is only the want of room that induces them to quit the maternal hive. Next I proceed to some of the nearest settlements, where I procure proper as-sistance to cut down the trees, get all my prey secured, and then return home with my prize.The first bees I ever procured were thus found in the woods, by mere accident; for at that time I had no kind of skill in this method of tracing them. The body of the tree being perfectly sound they had lodged themselves in the hol-low of one of its principal limbs, which I care-fully sawed off and with a good deal of labour and industry brought it home, where I fixed it up

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up again in the same position in which I found it growing. This was in April; I had five swarms that year, and they have been ever since very prosperous. This business generally takes up a week of my time every fall, and to me it is a week of solitary ease and relaxation. The seed is by that time committed to the ground; there is nothing very material to do at home, and this additional quantity of honey enables me to be more generous to my homebees, and my wife to make a due quantity of mead. The reason, Sir, that you found mine better than that of others is, that she puts two gallons of brandy in each barrel, which ripens it, and takes off that sweet, luscious taste, which it is apt to retain a long time. If we find anywhere in the woods (no matter on whose land )what is called a bee-tree, we must mark it; in the fall of the year when we propose to cut it down, our duty is to inform the proprietor of the land, who is entitled to half the contents;if this is not complied with we are exposed to an action of trespass, as well as he who should go and cut down a bee-tree which he had neither found out nor marked. We have twice a year the pleasure of catch-ing pigeons, whose numbers are sometimes so astonishing as to obscure the sun in their flight.Where is it that they hatch? for such multi-tudes

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tudes must require an immense quantity of food. I fancy they breed toward the plains of Ohio, and those about lake Michigan, which abound in wild oats; though I have never killed any that had that grain in their craws. In one of them, last year, I found some undigested rice. Now the nearest rice fields from where I live, must be at least 5 60 miles; and either their digestion must be suspended while they are flying, or else they must fly with the celerity of the wind. We catch them with a net ex-tended on the ground, to which they are allured by what we call tame wild pigeons, made blind,and fastened to a long string; his short flights,and his repeated calls, never fail to bring them down. The greatest number I ever catched was fourteen dozen, though much larger quan-tities have often been trapped. I have fre-quently seen them at the market so cheap, that for a penny you might have as many as you could carry away; and yet from the extreme cheapness you must not conclude, that the yare but an ordinary food; on the contrary, I think they are excellent. Every farmer has a tame wild pigeon in a cage at his door all the year round, in order to be ready whenever the season comes for catching them. The pleasure I receive from the warblings of the birds in the spring, is superior to my poor

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poor description, as the continual succession of their tuneful notes is for ever new to me. I generally rise from bed about that indistinct interval, which, properly speaking, is neither night or day; for this is the moment of the most universal vocal choir. Who can listen unmoved, to the sweet love tales of our robins,told from tree to tree? or to the shrill catbirds ? The sublime accents of the thrush from on high, always retard my steps that I may listen to the delicious music. The variegated appearances of the dew drops, as they hang to the different objects, must present even to a clownish imagination, the most voluptuous ideas. The astonishing art which all birds dis-play in the construction of their nests, ill pro-vided as we may suppose them with proper tools, their neatness, their convenience, always make me ashamed of the slovenliness of our houses; their love to their dame, their inces-sant careful attention, and the peculiar songs they address to her while she tediously incu-bates their eggs, remind me of my duty could I ever forget it. Their affection to their help-less little ones, is a lively precept; and in short, the whole oeconomy of what we proudly call the brute creation, is admirable in every cir-cumstance; and vain man, though adorned with the additional gift of reason, might learn from the

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the perfection of instinct, how to regulate the follies, and how to temper the errors which this second gift often makes him commit. This is a subject, on which I have often bestowed the most serious thoughts � I have often blushed within myself, and been greatly astonished,when I have compared the unerring path they all follow, all just, all proper, all wise, up to the necessary degree of perfection, with the coarse, the imperfect systems of men, not merely as governours and kings, but as masters,as husbands, as fathers, as citizens. But this is a sanctuary in which an ignorant farmer must not presume to enter. If ever man was permitted to receive and enjoy some blessings that might alleviate the many sorrows to which he is exposed, it is certainly in the country,when he attentively considers those ravishing scenes with which he is every where sur-rounded This is the only time of the year in which I am avaricious of every moment, rtherefore lose none that can add to this simple and inoffensive happiness. I roam early throughout all my fields; not the least opera-tion do I perform, which is not accompanied with the most pleasing observations; were I to extend them as far as I have carried them, I should become tedious; you would think me guilty of affectation, and I should perhaps represent

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present many things as pleasurable from which you might not perhaps receive the least agree-able emotions. But, believe me, what I write is all true and real. Some time ago, as I sat smoaking a con-templative pipe in my piazza, I saw with amazement a remarkable instance of selfish-ness displayed in a very small bird, which I had hitherto respected for its inoffensiveness.Three nests were placed almost contiguous to each other in my piazza: that of a swallow was affixed in the corner next to the house,that of a phebe in the other, a wren possessed a little box which I had made on purpose, and hung between. Be not surprised at their tame-ness, all my family had long been taught to respect them as well as myself. The wren had shewn before signs of dislike to the box which I had given it, but I knew not on what ac-count; at last it resolved, small as it was, to drive the swallow from its own habitation, and to my very great surprise it succeeded. Im-pudence often gets the better of modesty, and this exploit was no sooner performed, than it removed every material to its own box with the most admirable dexterity; the signs of tri-umph appeared very visible, it fluttered its wings with uncommon velocity, an universal joy was perceivable in all its movements. Where

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Where did this little bird learn that spirit of injustice? It was not endowed with what we term reason! Here then is a proof that both those gifts border very near on one another;for we see the perfection of the one mixing with the errors of the other! The peacable swallow like the passive Quaker, meekly sa tat a small distance and never offered the least resistance; but no sooner was the plunder car-ried away, than the injured bird went to work with unabated ardour, and in a few days the depredations were repaired. To prevent how-ever a repetition of the same violence, I re-moved the wren’s box to another part of the house. In the middle of my new parlour I have, you may remember, a curious republic of indus-trious hornets; their nest hangs to the cieling, by the same twig on which it was so admirably built and contrived in the woods. Its removal did not displease them, for they find in my house plenty of food; and I have left a hole open in one of the panes of the window, which answers all their purposes. By this kind usage they are become quite harmless; they live on the flies, which are very troublesome to us throughout the summer; they are constantly busy in catching them, even on the eyelids of my children. It is surprising how quickly they

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they smear them with a sort of glue, lest they might escape, and when thus prepared, they carry them to their nests, as food for their young ones. These globular nests are mostingeniously divided into many stories, all pro-vided with cells, and proper communications.The materials with which this fabric is built,they procure from the cottony furze, with which our oak rails are covered; this substance tempered with glue, produces a sort of paste-board, which is very strong, and resists all the inclemencies of the weather. By their assist-ance, I am but little troubled with flies. All my family are so accustomed to their strong buzzing, that no one takes any notice of them;and though they are fierce and vindictive, yet kindness and hospitality has made them useful and harmless. We have a great variety of wasps; most of them build their nests in mud, which they fix against the shingles of our roofs, as nigh the pitch as they can. These aggregates represent nothing, at first view, but coarse and irregular lumps, but if you break them, you will ob-serve, that the inside of them contains a great number of oblong cells, in which they deposit their eggs, and in which they bury themselves in the fall of the year. Thus immured they securely pass through the severity of that sea- son

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on, and on the return of the sun are enabled to perforate their cells, and to open themselves passage from these recesses into the sunshine.The yellow wasps, which build under ground,in our meadows, are much more to be dreaded,for when the mower unwittingly passes his scythe over their holes they immediately sally forth with a fury and velocity superior even to the strength of man. They make the boldest fly, and the only remedy is to lie down and cover our heads with hay, for it is only at the head they aim their blows; nor is there any possibility of finishing that part of the work until, by means of fire and brimstone, they are all silenced. But though I have been obliged to execute this dreadful sentence in my own de-fence, I have often thought it a great pity, for the sake of a little hay, to lay waste so ingen-ious a subterranean town, furnished with every conveniency, and built with a most surprising mechanism. I never should have done were I to recount the many objects which involuntarily strike my imagination in the midst of my work, and spon-taneously afford me the most pleasing relief. These appear insignificant trifles to a person who has travelled through Europe and America, and is acquainted with books and with many sciences; but such simple objects of

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of contemplation suffice me, who have no time to bestow on more extensive observations.Happily these require no study, they are ob-vious, they gild the moments I dedicate to them, and enliven the severe labours which I perform. At home my happiness springs from very different objects; the gradual unfolding of my children’s reason, the study of their dawning tempers attract all my paternal atten-tion. I have to contrive little punishments fortheir little faults, small encouragements for their good actions, and a variety of other ex-pedients dictated by various occasions. But these are themes unworthy your perusal, and which ought not to be carried beyond the walls of my house, being domestic mysteries adapted only to the locality of the small sanctuary wherein my family resides. Sometimes I de-light in inventing and executing machines, which simplify my wife’s labour. I have been tolerably successful that way; and these, Sir, are the narrow circles within which I constantly revolve, and what can I wish for beyond them? I bless God for all the good he has given me; I envy no man’s prosperity, and with no other portion of happiness that that I may live to teach the same philosophy to my children; and give each of them a farm, shew them how to cultivate it, and be like their father, good sub-stantial

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stantial independent American farmers–an appellation which will be the most fortunate one, a man of my class can possess, so long as our civil government continues to shed bless-ings on our husbandry. Adieu.

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