ce of tradition and custom.

The agriculturists are firmly and earnestly wedded to that unwritten
creed which has grown up among them out of the past. Why, then, should
they be so hardly dealt with, more than others, for adhering to this
faith? Argue with them, educate them up to your standard if you
like--but is it fair, is it just, is it in accordance with that spirit
of liberalism and tolerance which their opponents profess, to taunt,
abuse, and bully to the full length that words will permit? They are not
facile at expression, these same men of the soil. The flow of language
seems denied to them. They are naturally a silent race--preferring deeds
to speech. They live much with inarticulate nature. It may be, after
all, they have learnt some useful and abiding lessons from that
intercourse. The old shepherds on the plains of Chaldea, under the
starry skies of the East, watched the motions of those shining bodies
till they slowly built up a religion, which, mixed with much dross,
nevertheless contained some truths which educated men profess to this
hour. These English farmers also observe the changes of the seasons, and
watch the face of heaven. Their deepest convictions are not to be
lightly set aside. There are men amongst them of great powers of
thought. I remember one at this moment whose grand old head would have
been a study for an artist. A large head he had, well-balanced, broad
and high at the forehead, deep-set eyes, straight nose, and firm
chin--every outward sign of the giant brain within. But the man was
dumb. The thoughts that came to him he could communicate roughly to his
friends, but the pen failed him. The horny hand which results from
manual labour is too stiff to wield the swiftly-gliding quill. But there
is another species of handwriting which is called Work--a handwriting
which will endure when the scribblings of the hour are utterly
forgotten. This writing he laboured at earnestly and eagerly, not for
his own good either, for it absorbed his own fortune, no small one, in
the attempt to realise his conception of machinery which would double
the yield of food. It has been done since his time, other men stepping
over the bridge of experience which he had built. Now this man, who, on
the principles of the opponents of the agriculturists, was a benefactor
to his species, and a pioneer of true progress, was, nevertheless, one
of the firmest, staunchest, most uncompromising supporters of that creed
whi