But we have alluded to other causes than labor as in some measure responsible for the unattractiveness of the farmer’s life, and affecting adversely the farming interest.  These touch the matter at various points, and are charged with greater or less importance.  We know of no one cause more responsible for whatever there may be of physical degeneracy among the farming population than the treatment of its child-bearing women; and this, after all, is but a result of entire devotion to the tyrannical idea of labor.  If there be one office or character higher than all others, it is the office or character of mother.  Surely, the bringing into existence of so marvellous a thing as a human being, and the training of that being until it assumes a recognized relation to God and human society, is a sacred office, and one which does not yield in dignity and importance to any other under heaven.  For a woman who faithfully fulfils this office, who submits without murmuring to all its pains, who patiently performs its duties, and who exhausts her life in a ceaseless overflow of love upon those whom God has given her, no words can express a true man’s veneration.  She claims the homage of our hearts, the service of our hands, the devotion of our lives.

Yet what is the position of the mother in the New England farmer’s home?  The farmer is careful of every animal he possesses.  The farm-yard and the stall are replenished with young, by creatures for months dismissed from labor, or handled with intelligent care while carrying their burden; because the farmer knows that only in this way can he secure improvement, and sound, symmetrical development, to the stock of his farm.  In this he is a true, practical philosopher.  But what is his treatment of her who bears his children?  The same physiological laws apply to her that apply to the brute.  Their strict observance is greatly more imperative, because of her finer organization; yet they are not thought of; and if the farm-yard fail to shame the nursery, if the mother bear beautiful and well-organized children, Heaven be thanked for a merciful interference with the operation of its own laws!  Is the mother in a farm-house ever regarded as a sacred being?  Look at her hands!  Look at her face!  Look at her bent and clumsy form!  Is it more important to raise fine colts than fine men and women?  Is human life to be made secondary and subordinate to animal life?  Is not she who should receive the tenderest and most considerate ministries of the farmer’s home, in all its appointments and in all its service, made the ceaseless minister and servant of the home and all within it, with utter disregard of her office?  To expect a population to improve greatly under this method is simply to expect miracles; and to expect a farmer’s life and a farmer’s home to be attractive, where the mother is a drudge, and secures less consideration than the pets of the stall, is to expect impossibilities.