THE REPUBLIC’S ANCHOR.

     In ancient times the sacred plough employed
     The kings and awful fathers of mankind.

A work of this character—­a book for the home—­would be manifestly halt without some consideration of that grand subject, Agriculture,—­the tilling of the continents of this wide earth, to whose fruitfulness the oceans apply their beneficent offices; to whose generosity the sun lends his quickening rays of brightness and beauty.  “The awful fathers of mankind” to-day pay attention to the “sacred plough” as in ancient days, aye, thousands of times as much attention!  The tribes which then wandered upon the globe have now increased until Nature must needs groan with the load of her gifts to sustain them, and the rulers must scan the sky, and send the telegraph out-riding the storms, to warn the husbandman that danger to his crops approaches—­danger, which if not averted, were more deadly than the hatred of an enemy on a foreign strand.

The magnificent, conservative forces of our Republic live upon its farms.  There is our safety in the hour of trial!  Rome fell because

HER LOAFERS AND CITYITES

were the only voters.  They had no homes to protect—­they had only votes to sell.  But here, with our mighty experiment in human government, we have an irresistible power, the elements of which are straight-thinking men, who want only the right to prevail, and who have wheat and corn to sell, but absolutely no votes!  God be thanked for this!  When the torch of Communism shall

BURN THE SENATE HOUSE

in the city, the swords which were yesterday plow-shares will surround the glaring pile, and steadfastly blot out of existence the conspiracy of the beer-saloon and the “dead-fall;” when the bayonet of the gaudy foreigner shall glisten on our coasts, the ranks of farmers will hurry, side by side with the metropolitans, to chase the adventurers back into the seas.

“Agriculture,” says Zenophon, “for an honorable and high minded man, is the best of all occupations and arts by which men obtain the means of living.”  How true this is!  One would think

“BUSINESS”

in the days of the Greek were carried on just as it is now—­the concourse of a pack of men turned wolves, hungry for trade, and devouring each other in the absence of common sustenance.  To succeed in business in a city in this epoch, and to be at the same time a high-minded and honorable man, is very rare—­is usually the result of employing lieutenants to do the “business,” and keeping the “dirty work” away from the knowledge of the principal.  But when the farmer drives a bargain with

“THE GOOD GODDESS”

how clean is the transaction!  There is no lying, no cheating, no treachery, no rivalry.  How frank and open is the face of him who has concealed nothing!  How hearty is his laugh—­for has he not laughed with nature—­with the twitter of the birds, with the low beating of the bells?  Has he not faithful friends—­friends of a life-time?  When he has gone into debt has he not paid?  Has he ever considered