Grain growing districts, countries where a scientific agriculture prevails, where the mind of man as well as the hands of labor, finds employment in the culture of the ground, the rearing of trees, the improvement of breeds of cattle, horses, and swine, the refining of the texture of wool, the care of the dairy--those rural districts, where Nature, repaying the manifold appliances of judicious care, tasks her powers of production and puts on her loveliest forms of beauty, as though grateful to man for his attention, and seeking communion with his better spirit--_there_ Slavery can not dwell. It is not congenial with such scenes. Nor, again, can Slavery find a congenial abode in those beautiful undulating regions of green hills and swiftly flowing streams which afford such conveniences for the arts. In those regions nature invites the co-operation of intelligent man; she offers her powers to turn the wheels of his complicated machinery. The rude hands of servile labor are not adapted to take advantage of such proffers. What are all the arts of civilized life, but so many results of man’s conquests over material things? The active mind, the inventive intellect, in alliance with its minister, the fashioning hand, never ceases in its efforts, as it comes in contact with the things of nature, to turn them to its purposes. The laws of nature are studied that man may act in unison with them, and through them gain the mastery. But where Slavery forms the hand of the community, the working instrument, how is it possible that intelligence should animate it to give it dexterity, delicacy of touch, variety of powers? No, it is not possible. The informing principle, the vital force of a perceptive mind, quickened by its own impulses, can not descend into the form of Slavery to animate and direct it. There may be great intelligence in a slaveholding community; but it is not in the working members thereof. Thus the mind of the South, devoted to political affairs, is shrewd, active, and powerful, and maintains an ascendency in the republic, far beyond the physical weight and resources of that section of the union. The south has given to the United States seven out of the ten Presidents who have sat at the head of our public affairs. But the mind of the south can not approach nature to deal with it, to overcome it. It has not the appliances, the practical instrumentality. Its head is clear; but its hand is paralytic. If its working agency were endowed with an inherent intelligence and a self-directing will, the necessary accompaniments of an inventive genius, it would be servile no longer.