The Wall Street Journal has been publishing its 
"And the Fair Land" and 
"The Desolate Wilderness" editorials every Thanksgiving since 1961.  I read them again every year.  Here is "And the Fair Land" excerpted in full.  With thanks.
"Any one whose labors take him into the far reaches of the country, as
 ours lately have done, is bound to mark how the years have made the 
land grow fruitful.
This is indeed a big country, a rich country, in a way no array of 
figures can measure and so in a way past belief of those who have not 
seen it. Even those who journey through its Northeastern complex, into 
the Southern lands, across the central plains and to its Western slopes 
can only glimpse a measure of the bounty of America.
And a traveler cannot but be struck on his journey by the thought 
that this country, one day, can be even greater. America, though many 
know it not, is one of the great underdeveloped countries of the world; 
what it reaches for exceeds by far what it has grasped.
So the visitor returns thankful for much of what he has seen, and, in
 spite of everything, an optimist about what his country might be. Yet 
the visitor, if he is to make an honest report, must also note the air 
of unease that hangs everywhere.
For the traveler, as travelers have been always, is as much 
questioned as questioning. And for all the abundance he sees, he finds 
the questions put to him ask where men may repair for succor from the 
troubles that beset them.
His countrymen cannot forget the savage face of war. Too often they 
have been asked to fight in strange and distant places, for no clear 
purpose they could see and for no accomplishment they can measure. Their
 spirits are not quieted by the thought that the good and pleasant 
bounty that surrounds them can be destroyed in an instant by a single 
bomb. Yet they find no escape, for their survival and comfort now depend
 on unpredictable strangers in far-off corners of the globe.
How can they turn from melancholy when at home they see young arrayed
 against old, black against white, neighbor against neighbor, so that 
they stand in peril of social discord. Or not despair when they see that
 the cities and countryside are in need of repair, yet find themselves 
threatened by scarcities of the resources that sustain their way of 
life. Or when, in the face of these challenges, they turn for leadership
 to men in high places—only to find those men as frail as any others.
So sometimes the traveler is asked whence will come their succor. 
What is to preserve their abundance, or even their civility? How can 
they pass on to their children a nation as strong and free as the one 
they inherited from their forefathers? How is their country to endure 
these cruel storms that beset it from without and from within?
Of course the stranger cannot quiet their spirits. For it is true 
that everywhere men turn their eyes today much of the world has a truly 
wild and savage hue. No man, if he be truthful, can say that the specter
 of war is banished. Nor can he say that when men or communities are put
 upon their own resources they are sure of solace; nor be sure that men 
of diverse kinds and diverse views can live peaceably together in a time
 of troubles.
But we can all remind ourselves that the richness of this country was
 not born in the resources of the earth, though they be plentiful, but 
in the men that took its measure. For that reminder is everywhere—in the
 cities, towns, farms, roads, factories, homes, hospitals, schools that 
spread everywhere over that wilderness.
We can remind ourselves that for all our
 social discord we yet remain the longest enduring society of free men 
governing themselves without benefit of kings or dictators. Being so, we
 are the marvel and the mystery of the world, for that enduring liberty 
is no less a blessing than the abundance of the earth.
And we might remind ourselves also, that if those men setting out 
from Delftshaven had been daunted by the troubles they saw around them, 
then we could not this autumn be thankful for a fair land."
 
No comments:
Post a Comment