and ease; little also of extreme poverty, reeking
crime, unutterable filth, moral sewage. Farmers are essentially a middle
class and no comparison is fair that does not keep this fact ever in
mind.

We sometimes hear the expression, "Country life is so barren--that to me
is its most discouraging aspect." Much country life is truly barren;
but much more of it is so only relatively and not essentially. We must
admit that civilization is at least partially veneer; polish does
wonders for the appearance of folks as well as of furniture. But while
the beauty of "heart of oak" is enhanced by its "finish," its utility is
not destroyed by a failure to polish it. Now, much of the so-called
barrenness of country life is the oak minus the polish. We come to
regard polish as essential; it is largely relative. And not only may we
apply the wrong standard to the situation, but our eyes may deceive us.
To the uninitiated a clod of dry earth is the most unpromising of
objects--it is cousin to the stone, and the type of barrenness. But to
the elect it is pregnant with the possibilities of seed-time and
harvest, of a full fruitage, of abundance and content for man and beast.
And there is many a farm home, plain to an extreme, devoid of the
veneer, a home that to the man of the town seems lacking in all the
things that season life, but a home which virtue, intelligence, thrift,
and courage transform into a garden of roses and a type of heaven. I do
not justify neglect of the finer material things of life, nor plead for
drab and homespun as passports to the courts of excellence; but I insist
that the plainness, simple living, absence of luxury, lack of polish
that may be met with in the country, do not necessarily accompany a
condition barren of the essentials of the higher life.

Sometimes rural communities are ridiculed because of the trivial nature
of their gossip, interests, and ambitions. There may be some justice in
the criticism, though the situation is pathetic rather than humorous.
But is the charge wholly just? In comparing country with town we are
comparing two environments; necessarily, therefore, objects of gossip,
interests, and ambitions differ therein. We expect that. It is no
criticism to assert that fact. The test is not that of an existing
difference, but of an essential quality. Is not Ben Bolt's new top buggy
as legitimate a topic for discussion as is Arthur John Smythe's new
automobile? Does not the price of wheat me