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not lay so much stress on his grain； his potato and grass crop； and
his orchards raise other crops than these？ Why concern ourselves
so much about our beans for seed； and not be concerned at all about
a new generation of men？ We should really be fed and cheered if
when we met a man we were sure to see that some of the qualities
which I have named； which we all prize more than those other
productions； but which are for the most part broadcast and floating
in the air； had taken root and grown in him。 Here comes such a
subtile and ineffable quality； for instance； as truth or justice；
though the slightest amount or new variety of it； along the road。
Our ambassadors should be instructed to send home such seeds as
these； and Congress help to distribute them over all the land。 We
should never stand upon ceremony with sincerity。 We should never
cheat and insult and banish one another by our meanness； if there
were present the kernel of worth and friendliness。 We should not
meet thus in haste。 Most men I do not meet at all； for they seem
not to have time； they are busy about their beans。 We would not
deal with a man thus plodding ever； leaning on a hoe or a spade as a
staff between his work； not as a mushroom； but partially risen out
of the earth； something more than erect； like swallows alighted and
walking on the ground：
〃And as he spake； his wings would now and then
Spread； as he meant to fly； then close again 〃
so that we should suspect that we might be conversing with an angel。
Bread may not always nourish us； but it always does us good； it even
takes stiffness out of our joints； and makes us supple and buoyant；
when we knew not what ailed us； to recognize any generosity in man
or Nature； to share any unmixed and heroic joy。
Ancient poetry and mythology suggest； at least； that husbandry
was once a sacred art； but it is pursued with irreverent haste and
heedlessness by us； our object being to have large farms and large
crops merely。 We have no festival； nor procession； nor ceremony；
not excepting our cattle…shows and so…called Thanksgivings； by which
the farmer expresses a sense of the sacredness of his calling； or is
reminded of its sacred origin。 It is the premium and the feast
which tempt him。 He sacrifices not to Ceres and the Terrestrial
Jove； but to the infernal Plutus rather。 By avarice and
selfishness； and a grovelling habit； from which none of us is free；
of regarding the soil as property； or the means of acquiring
property chiefly； the landscape is deformed； husbandry is degraded
with us； and the farmer leads the meanest of lives。 He knows Nature
but as a robber。 Cato says that the profits of agriculture are
particularly pious or just （maximeque pius quaestus）； and according
to Varro the old Romans 〃called the same earth Mother and Ceres； and
thought that they who cultivated it led a pious and useful life； and
that they alone were left of the race of King Saturn。〃
We are wont to forget that the sun looks on our cultivated
fields and on the prairies and forests without distinction。 They
all reflect and absorb his rays alike； and the former make but a
small part of the glorious picture which he beholds in his daily
course。 In his view the earth is all equally cultivated like a
garden。 Therefore we should receive the benefit of his light and
heat with a corresponding trust and magnanimity。 What though I
value the seed of these beans； and harvest that in the fall of the
year？ This broad field which I have looked at so long looks not to
me as the principal cultivator； but away from me to influences more
genial to it； which water and make it green。 These beans have
results which are not harvested by me。 Do they not grow for
woodchucks partly？ The ear of wheat （in Latin spica； obsoletely
speca； from spe； hope） should not be the only hope of the
husbandman； its kernel or grain （granum from gerendo； bearing） is
not all that it bears。 How； then； can our harvest fail？ Shall I
not rejoice also at the abundance of the weeds whose seeds are the
granary of the birds？ It matters little comparatively whether the
fields fill the farmer's barns。 The true husbandman will cease from
anxiety； as the squirrels manifest no concern whether the woods will
bear chestnuts this year or not； and finish his labor with every
day； relinquishing all claim to the produce of his fields； and
sacrificing in his mind not only his first but his last fruits also。
…