efinement of the builder. A man in a cave, or in a camp, a nomad, will
die with no more estate than the wolf or the horse leaves. But so simple
a labor as a house being achieved, his chief enemies are kept at bay.
He is safe from the teeth of wild animals, from frost, sunstroke, and
weather; and fine faculties begin to yield their fine harvest. Invention
and art are born, manners and social beauty and delight. 'T is wonderful
how soon a piano gets into a log-hut on the frontier. You would think
they found it under a pine-stump. With it comes a Latin grammar, and one
of those towhead boys has written a hymn on Sunday. Now let colleges,
now let senates take heed! for here is one, who, opening these fine
tastes on the basis of the pioneer's iron constitution, will gather all
their laurels in his strong hands.

When the Indian trail gets widened, graded, and bridged to a good
road,--there is a benefactor, there is a missionary, a pacificator, a
wealth-bringer, a maker of markets, a vent for industry. The building
three or four hundred miles of road in the Scotch Highlands in 1726
to 1749 effectually tamed the ferocious clans, and established public
order. Another step in civility is the change from war, hunting, and
pasturage, to agriculture. Our Scandinavian forefathers have left us a
significant legend to convey their sense of the importance of this step.
"There was once a giantess who had a daughter, and the child saw a
husbandman ploughing in the field. Then she ran and picked him up with
her finger and thumb, and put him and his plough and his oxen into her
apron, and carried them to her mother, and said, 'Mother, what sort of a
beetle is this that I found wriggling in the sand?' But the mother said,
'Put it away, my child; we must begone out of this land, for these
people will dwell in it.'" Another success is the post-office, with
its educating energy, augmented by cheapness, and guarded by a certain
religious sentiment in mankind, so that the power of a wafer or a drop
of wax or gluten to guard a letter, as it flies over sea, over land, and
comes to its address as if a battalion of artillery brought it, I look
upon as a fine metre of civilization.

The division of labor, the multiplication of the arts of peace, which is
nothing but a large allowance to each man to choose his work according
to his faculty, to live by his better hand, fills the State with useful
and happy laborers,--and they, creating demand by the ve