formerly；　the　larger　estates　having；　in　late　years　of　distress；
  absorbed　the　smaller；　and；　in　some　parts　of　the　country；　almost
  annihilated　the　sturdy　race　of　small　farmers。　These；　however；　I
  believe；　are　but　casual　breaks　in　the　general　system　I　have　mentioned。
  In　rural　occupation　there　is　nothing　mean　and　debasing。　It　leads　a
  man　forth　among　scenes　of　natural　grandeur　and　beauty；　it　leaves　him
  to　the　workings　of　his　own　mind；　operated　upon　by　the　purest　and
  most　elevating　of　external　influences。　Such　a　man　may　be　simple　and
  rough；　but　he　cannot　be　vulgar。　The　man　of　refinement；　therefore；
  finds　nothing　revolting　in　an　intercourse　with　the　lower　orders　in
  rural　life；　as　he　does　when　he　casually　mingles　with　the　lower
  orders　of　cities。　He　lays　aside　his　distance　and　reserve；　and　is
  glad　to　waive　the　distinctions　of　rank；　and　to　enter　into　the
  honest；　heartfelt　enjoyments　of　common　life。　Indeed　the　very
  amusements　of　the　country　bring　men　more　and　more　together；　and　the
  sound　of　hound　and　horn　blend　all　feelings　into　harmony。　I　believe
  this　is　one　great　reason　why　the　nobility　and　gentry　are　more
  popular　among　the　inferior　orders　in　England　than　they　are　in　any
  other　country；　and　why　the　latter　have　endured　so　many　excessive
  pressures　and　extremities；　without　repining　more　generally　at　the
  unequal　distribution　of　fortune　and　privilege。
  To　this　mingling　of　cultivated　and　rustic　society　may　also　be
  attributed　the　rural　feeling　that　runs　through　British　literature；　the
  frequent　use　of　illustrations　from　rural　life；　those　incomparable
  descriptions　of　nature　that　abound　in　the　British　poets；　that　have
  continued　down　from　〃the　Flower　and　the　Leaf〃　of　Chaucer；　and　have
  brought　into　our　closets　all　the　freshness　and　fragrance　of　the　dewy
  landscape。　The　pastoral　writers　of　other　countries　appear　as　if　they
  had　paid　nature　an　occasional　visit；　and　become　acquainted　with　her
  general　charms；　but　the　British　poets　have　lived　and　revelled　with
  her…　they　have　wooed　her　in　her　most　secret　haunts…　they　have
  watched　her　minutest　caprices。　A　spray　could　not　tremble　in　the
  breeze…　a　leaf　could　not　rustle　to　the　ground…　a　diamond　drop　could
  not　patter　in　the　stream…　a　fragrance　could　not　exhale　from　the　humble
  violet；　nor　a　daisy　unfold　its　crimson　tints　to　the　morning；　but　it
  has　been　noticed　by　these　impassioned　and　delicate　observers；　and
  wrought　up　into　some　beautiful　morality。
  The　effect　of　this　devotion　of　elegant　minds　to　rural　occupations
  has　been　wonderful　on　the　face　of　the　country。　A　great　part　of　the
  island　is　rather　level；　and　would　be　monotonous；　were　it　not　for　the
  charms　of　culture：　but　it　is　studded　and　gemmed；　as　it　were；　with
  castles　and　palaces；　and　embroidered　with　parks　and　gardens。　It　does
  not　abound　in　grand　and　sublime　prospects；　but　rather　in　little　home
  scenes　of　rural　repose　and　sheltered　quiet。　Every　antique　farm…house
  and　moss…grown　cottage　is　a　picture：　and　as　the　roads　are
  continually　winding；　and　the　view　is　shut　in　by　groves　and　hedges；　the
  eye　is　delighted　by　a　continual　succession　of　small　landscapes　of
  captivating　loveliness。
  The　great　charm；　however；　of　English　scenery　is　the　moral　feeling
  that　seems　to　pervade　it。　It　is　associated　in　the　mind　with　ideas　of
  order；　of　quiet；　of　sober　well…established　principles；　of　hoary
  usage　and　reverend　custom。　Every　thing　seems　to　be　the　growth　of
  ages　of　regular　and　peaceful　existence。　The　old　church　of　remote
  architecture；　with　its　low　massive　portal；　its　gothic　tower；　its
  windows　rich　with　tracery　and　painted　glass；　in　scrupulous
  preservation；　its　stately　monuments　of　warriors　and　worthies　of　the
  olden　time；　ancestors　of　the　present　lords　of　the　soil　its　tombstones；
  recording　successive　generations　of　sturdy　yeomanry；　whose　progeny
  still　plough　the　same　fields；　and　kneel　at　the　same　altar…　the
  parsonage；　a　quaint　irregular　pile；　partly　antiquated；　but　repaired
  and　altered　in　the　tastes　of　various　ages　and　occupants…　the　stile　and
  footpath　leading　from　the　church…yard；　across　pleasant　fields；　and
  along　shady　hedge…rows；　according　to　an　immemorial　right　of　way…　the
  neighboring　village；　with　its　venerable　cottages；　its　public　green
  sheltered　by　trees；　under　which　the　forefathers　of　the　present　race
  have　sported…　the　antique　family　mansion；　standing　apart　in　some
  little　rural　domain；　but　looking　down　with　a　protecting　air　on　the
  surrounding　scene：　all　these　common　features　of　English　landscape
  evince　a　calm　and　settled　security；　and　hereditary　transmission　of
  homebred　virtues　and　local　attachments；　that　speak　deeply　and
  touchingly　for　the　moral　character　of　the　nation。
  It　is　a　pleasing　sight　of　a　Sunday　morning；　when　the　bell　is　sending
  its　sober　melody　across　the　quiet　fields；　to　behold　the　peasantry　in
  their　best　finery；　with　ruddy　faces　and　modest　cheerfulness；　thronging
  tranquilly　along　the　green　lanes　to　church；　but　it　is　still　more
  pleasing　to　see　them　in　the　evenings；　gathering　about　their　cottage
  doors；　and　appearing　to　exult　in　the　humble　comforts　and
  embellishments　which　their　own　hands　have　spread　around　them。
  It　is　this　sweet　home…feeling；　this　settled　repose　of　affection　in
  the　domestic　scene；　that　is；　after　all；　the　parent　of　the　steadiest
  virtues　and　purest　enjoyments；　and　I　cannot　close　these　desultory
  remarks　better；　than　by　quoting　the　words　of　a　modern　English　poet；
  who　has　depicted　it　with　remarkable　felicity：
  Through　each　gradation；　from　the　castled　hall；
  The　city　dome；　the　villa　crown'd　with　shade；
  But　chief　from　modest　mansions　numberless；
  In　town　or　hamlet；　shelt'ring　middle　life；
  Down　to　the　cottaged　vale；　and　straw　roof'd　shed；
  This　western　isle　hath　long　been　famed　for　scenes
  Where　bliss　domestic　finds　a　dwelling…place；
  Domestic　bliss；　that；　like　a　harmless　dove；
  （Honor　and　sweet　endearment　keeping　guard；）
  Can　centre　in　a　little　quiet　nest
  All　that　desire　would　fly　for　through　the　earth；
  That　can；　the　world　eluding；　be　itself
  A　world　enjoy'd；　that　wants　no　witnesses
  But　its　own　sharers；　and　approving　heaven；
  That；　like　a　flower　deep　hid　in　rocky　cleft；
  Smiles；　though　'tis　looking　only　at　the　sky。*
  *　From　a　Poem　on　the　death　of　the　Princess　Charlotte；　by　the
  Reverend　Rann　Kennedy；　A。M。
  THE　END
  。