Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

Joyously smiling in high lustihood,
Conferring on us days of longest length,
For rest or labour, in town, field, or wood;
Offering, to our gathering, richest stores

Of varied herbage, corn, cool fruits, and flowers,
As forth they rise from Nature's open pores,
To fill our homesteads and to deck our bowers;
Inviting us to renovate our health

By recreation; or, by ready hand,

And calculating thought, to improve our wealth;
And so, invigorating all the land,
And all the tenantry of earth or flood,
Cometh the plenteous summer-full of good."

adonis, or pheasant's eye, which is one
of the most beautiful of the wild flowers,
and with which very few of our lesser
annuals, so carefully sown in our gardens,
can bear comparison. Its bright but
tender green leaves, so minutely divided
as to resemble the beautiful spines of the
larch, rather than ordinary leaves, will not
fail to attract his attention, while amidst
their rich profusion he will detect the

the forget-me-not, which will continue to
flower till August, and is found plentifully
by the water-courses. Probably he will
linger to pluck the beautiful dog-rose,
whose fragrance attracts his attention,
and whose simple beauty excites the ad-
miration of the most illiterate.
he walks along, it will be well for him to
call to mind the thoughts and words of
the psalmist, when he said of the God of
providence :-

And as

Mr. Howitt, whose intimate acquaint-ruby blossom. There, too, he will see ance with country scenes is well known, says, "The frosts and damps of spring are now past; the earth is 'dry; the night air is balmy and refreshing; the glowworm has lit her lamp; the bat is circling about; the fragrant breath of flowers steals into our houses; and the moth flutters against the darkened pane. Go forth when the business of the day is over, thou who art pent in city toils, and stray through the newly-shot corn, along the grassy and hay-scented fields; linger beside the solitary woodland: the gale of heaven is stirring its mighty and umbrageous branches. The wild rose, with its flowers of most delicate odour, and of every tint, from the deepest red to the purest pearl; the wreathed and luscious honeysuckle, and the verdurous, snow-flowered elder, embellish every way-side, or light up the most shadowy region of the wood."

As summer advances, the variety of nature is augmented by the foliage of each tree assuming its own peculiar tint. The meadows wear a paler green, the flowers are less numerous, the corn gradually becomes yellow, and the richer colouring

of Nature diminishes.

"How splendid all the sky! how still!
How mild the dying gale!
How soft the whispers of the rill
That winds along the dale!
So tranquil Nature's works appear,
It seems the sabbath of the year."

Every lover of Nature will avail himself of the opportunities now presented of roaming along the flower-enamelled meadows and grassy lanes, to observe the beauteous objects everywhere presented. He will sit on the rustic stile, and allow his thoughts to wander on a thousand delightful associations; or he will pass into the woodland valley, where the brook is singing its song of gladness, and the willow is gracefully bending over. Here he will pluck the yellow iris, which is in blossom, and perhaps think of its use as the national device of France, the name of fleur-de-lis being a corruption of fleur-de-Louis. Then he will see the

"He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle,
And herb for the service of man:

That he may bring forth food out of the earth;
And wine that maketh glad the heart of man,
And oil to make his face to shine,

And bread which strengtheneth man's heart.
The trees of the Lord are full of sap;

The cedars of Lebanon which he hath planted;
Where the birds make their nests;

As for the stork, the fir trees are her house.
The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats;
And the rocks for the conies.

He appointed the moon for seasons:
The sun knoweth his going down."-Psa. civ.

How beautiful are the golden and nodding cowslips, which may now be seen on the banks of the meadows, and in the grassy crofts; but only a few are left, being more common in the last month. Still their smell is delicious. There are a few sprinkled in the orchard, in the glades of the woodlands, and amongst the very thickets, growing there taller and more beautiful than anywhere beside. How many times in byegone days has the country lad gathered baskets full and carried them home, and then sat round under a tree and "peeped them;" that is, pulled out the tubed corollas or peeps, in order to prepare them for cowslip wine. There the trunk of an old willow pollard is thrown across the banks that confine the little streamlet, while the equally rude rail, that has been nailed between two small alders, will be regarded as worthy of notice. As it is traversed, the beautiful fish dart from the middle of the gravelbottomed stream to the bank for shelter, while the rat jumps into the water, and rapidly swims to its hole. Perhaps, too, the water-hen takes alarm, and may be

observed stealing along the sides of the stream, though partially hidden by the rushes, giving a sort of jerk with her beak and white tail, and uttering a plaintive call, to induce her little black brood to follow her. She prefers to frequent old water-courses, covered with aquatic herbage, and revels in the protection of the rushes, reeds, and willows of slow rivers. Sometimes she may be seen on the surface of the water, diving if alarmed; but if she continue undisturbed, she swims along with a nodding motion of the head, picking up vegetable substances as she passes along, and feeding on aquatic plants, small fishes, insects, worms, and slugs. If search is made for the nest, it will be found on the ground among the rushes, or concealed by stumps, roots, or long grass, on a bank at the edge of the water; and she has been known to fix her nest on the branch of a tree which rested upon the surface of the stream. A naturalist states that on one occasion he found a mass of dry rushes, flags, and other materials, enough to fill a two-bushel basket, in a spruce fir-tree by the water side, looking as if it had been put there with a hayfork. He mounted instantly, thinking of herons, eagles, and a variety of other wonders; but just as his head reached the nest, out came a moor-hen; he heard a flap, flap, and the bird, dropping to the water, made off in a direct line, dipping with its toes as it passed along, and was soon lost in the rushes of a distant bank, leaving an evanescent track along the water, like that occasioned by a stone which has been skilfully thrown to make "ducks and drakes." The nest contained seven eggs, quite warm.

Pleasing and improving ideas may now be suggested to the mind by the simplest subjects. The beautiful oak, for instance, standing in the hedge-side, under whose shelter the cattle seek repose, while birds sport among the branches, may remind us of the beautiful description of a good man, given by the psalmist :

[blocks in formation]

66

[ocr errors]

grove. The stately walnut, standing in the court of ancient manor-houses, or in the field adjoining the farmer's dwelling, puts forth its smooth leaves slowly, as sage grave men do their thoughts, and for which over-caution he will receive rough usage in the autumn. The maple, the beech, and the sycamore, are lightly clad in their leafy robes; even the dark perennial firs display their young cones and leaves, while none fail to admire the flowers of the horse-chestnut. The pendent branches of the weeping willow trail on the water, on whose broad surface the elegant figure of the tree is represented :

"No tree in all the grove but has its charms,
Though each a hue peculiar; paler some,
And of a wannish grey; the willow such,
And poplar, that with silver lines his leaf,
And ash, far stretching his umbrageous arm.
Of deeper green, the elm; and deeper still,
Lord of the woods, the long-surviving oak.
Some glossy leaved and shining in the sun;
The maple, and the beech, of oily nuts
Prolific, and the lime, at dewy eve
Diffusing odours: not unnoticed pass
The sycamore, capricious in attire,
Now green, now tawny."

The clear, shrill voice of the fieldcricket now gains its full strength, and though it consists of but one note, and that by no means distinguished for musical tone, yet it is pleasing to hear, when we remember it is the voice of joy, however simple it may be. If the wayside bank is passed where the hot sunbeams fall, its long cry will be plainly heard, as it sits at the mouth of its cell; and if the same spot is approached at midnight, it will perhaps still continue its note.

Pigs now cover themselves with mud, to free themselves from vermin and flies, in the same manner as we are told the elephant and rhinoceros do for protection against a fly which greatly annoys them. Ganders will sometimes assist their mates by sitting on the nest, and when the youth ful progenies appear, they will run in all directions to drive off those whom they regard as intruders. The cock struts before the hens, and never seems so happy as when he has found some food for his offspring; and if any bird appears to question his right, he will fight to the last extremity to defend his authority, and generally succeeds in expelling the invader. Hen-turkies do not appear to regard their young with so much tenderness as is displayed by many fowls, frequently trampling on them, regardless of their cries. Ducks, while sitting, are in a prodigious bustle when leaving their nests in search of food, and make a great outcry when the drake comes from the

pond to greet their arrival in the yard. | but in many places they were commenced They run into the pond, flap their wings, during May, and have now to be comand, coming out, clamorously await their pleted. As we stroll over the pleasant food, or hurry in all directions in its pur-mead, or descend the valley, the operasuit, while the young ducks, as soon as tion may be observed, as it proceeds, by they are hatched, take to the water, and the brook that divides the rich glen. Undart after flies with great activity. disturbed by the noise and the dirt, the necessary result of so much work, the bleating of the sheep, and the hum of industry, falls on the ear. Men may be seen approaching with flocks to be washed:

Care is taken during the present month, to preserve the sheep from the attacks of flies; the fallows are cleansed, and where the Swedish turnips fail to come up, cabbage plants are sometimes filled in. The wheat, beans, and peas, are weeded; manure is carted out; hop-bines are tied, and pruned when needed; ponds are cleansed, and the soil obtained from them preserved, or mixed with lime; holly-hedges are planted; bees swarm ; and weeds in the hedges and gardens are destroyed.

The corn crops, which have so long claimed the care of the farmer, have now assumed a promising appearance. On that one field of corn how many ears undulate as the breeze gently passes over them, each of which is under the care of God. It seems wonderful that each stalk should be enabled to perform its part so completely, without danger of sinking under its burden, or being destroyed by the gale of wind which often sweeps over its surface. But its structure is such that, while sufficiently flexible, it is not brittle; and while tall enough to be raised a suitable distance from the damp earth, it is not so long as to be in danger of prostration. From the principal stalk others spring up, and, bearing leaves, collect the drops of dew and rain, and thus supply the plant with the nutritious juices intended for its support. The essential part of the structure goes on increasing, and the ear is gradually and perfectly formed, while, to preserve the tender sprouts from the dangers and accidents which might destroy them, the two upper leaves of the stalk close together as soon as they appear. When the stalk is sufficiently formed to be able to supply the grain with juices, the leaves become dry, that the strength of the plant shall not be unnecessarily exhausted. When these leaves are withered, the young ear waves buoyantly and gracefully in the breeze, while the gentle rains which descend, and the sun's beams which shine, are means beautifully adapted for maturing the plant.

Sheep-washing and shearing are among the principal rural employments which occupy the farmer during this month,

"In one diffusive band,

They drive the troubled flocks, by many a dog Compell'd, to where the mazy-running brook Forms a deep pool; this bank abrupt and high, And that fair-spreading in a pebbled shore."

When the sheep are thus assembled near the washing-pool, the lambs and sheep fit to be washed are drafted from the flock, and placed in one enclosure, while the remainder are turned into another, at such a distance from the washing-place as not to disturb their mothers by their bleating. These arrangements are perhaps proceeding while other sheep are being washed, but if this is not the case, the work now commences.

The sheep having been inclosed in a pen, they are caught, according to the wants of the shearers. This is generally done by means of a crook, and the animal is drawn back to the adjacent shearing place, or they are moved bodily along, by placing one hand on the neck, and another behind. Care, however, is necessary; for if sheep are fed in rich pastures, the flesh is easily bruised, and mortification has been the result.

It was frequently the custom for the washers to stand in the water up to their breasts; but from the injurious effects which resulted, and the desire of the men to finish the work quickly rather than effectually, it was proposed to rail off a portion of the water in a stream, to be approached by the sheep, by means of a sloping entrance at one end, while there was a slope at the other side, at which they might escape when washed. At one spot on each side of the passage, where the depth is just sufficient to flow over the back of the sheep, a water-tight cask or box is placed, in which the men stand, the sheep being in the water between them. By these means the labour is effectively performed, the sheep are pushed into the right position, and, when washed, they escape into a clean pasture, ready to receive them. It is as interesting as it is curious to observe the lambs, after

being separated from the ewes in shearing-| time, running bleating to their mothers as they have escaped from the hands of the shearers, to hear the responsive cry of recognition, and its assured gambol, as it detects through the changed appearance the well-known face and smell:

"Heavy and dripping to the breezy brow." The shearing follows soon afterwards, the time varying in some degree according to the weather, and the convenience of the proprietor; but it is highly important that the sheep should not again become dirty. In performing the operation, the left side of the sheep is placed against the shearer's left leg, his left foot against the sheep's tail, and his left knee at its left shoulder. The process is sometimes commenced with the shears at the crown of the sheep's head, with a straight cut along the loins, returning to the shoulder, and making a circular shear round the off-side to the middle of the belly; the off-hinder leg is taken next; and lastly, the shearer kneeling down on his right knee, and the sheep's neck being laid over his left thigh, he shears along the remaining side. A good clipper can shear from twenty to thirty sheep a day-and even more are done by very expert persons. The method of shearing Cheviot sheep is by laying them on their back, between the operator's knees, beginning with the belly; and afterwards, having tied the animal's legs, he proceeds very expeditiously, at the rate of four or five sheep in the hour, or from forty to fifty a day.

Tusser says, in reference to sheepshearing:

"Reward not thy sheep, when ye take off the coat,
With twitches and patches as broad as a groat;
Let not such ungentleness happen to thine,
Lest fly with her gentils do make it to pine."

He here refers to the injuries inflicted on sheep by the ignorant or careless shearer, in wounding them with the shears. At the period at which he wrote, the custom was frequently adopted of inviting the neighbours to assist in shearing, though many knew very little about the business. The whole labour was begun and finished in a day. The day's employment was regarded more in the light of a rustic holiday, than as an important department of agricultural labour; and the character of the work plainly indicated that plentiful cheer and abundance of strong ale were re

garded as far more important than the proper performance of the task, Some time after the sheep are clipped, they are marked or branded, in order to identify them as the property of the master-initials or other significant signs being generally adopted. The iron stamp is taken and dipped into warm tar, and sometimes red ochre is used for a second mark. F. S. W.

GOVERNMENT OF THE APPETITE.

THE study of the stomach is the study of morality. By investigating the influence of food and drink on our minds, we soon discover the strongest motives for self-denial, and learn many a forcible lesson concerning the nature and extent of our responsibility. The results of mismanaging the stomach typify all the effects of our abandonment to any other propensity; for it is most evident that if we do not keep appetite under control, the right use of our reason is abolished, and we become more completely enslaved to our lusts than the most grovelling beast. The comfort and efficiency of intellect, nay, the moral perception, manliness, and virtue of the mind, depend greatly on our use of aliment; and in the very means by which we sustain the strength of the body, or most directly disorder its functions, we at the same time either fortify or disable the brain, so that we shall be qualified to use our faculties with advantage, or else, amidst the confusion of our sensations, be rendered incapable of rational attention. Who has not seen the bright dreams of his morning's philosophy clouded by the fumes of a tempting table, and the best resolves of calm thoughtfulness lost amidst the sparklings of wine. Man has invented most of his dangers; he delights in exposing himself to artificial excitements; and he would rather run the risk of perdition than not try the force of temptation; for, alas! since self-confidence first abased him, he has never believed that he could not conquer appetite according to his knowledge, whenever he pleased, until he has found his will itself corrupted, and all his humanity helpless and undone. Animal instincts never conduct to such dangers; but the human mind, while it refines the sensations of the body by its own intensity, aggravates the evils amidst which it riots, and by its greater capacity for pleasure twines the snare

most cunningly around the soul, and by speculating in sensualities raises a multitude of evil spirits, which, at first, appear in forms of delicious beauty; but as they weary his brain with their ceaseless presence, they gradually assume disgusting appearances, and as they become more and more hateful, he is more and more in earnest to dismiss them, while they only the more closely haunt and more thoroughly torment him. Reason has been placed by the only wise God in the midst of seductive influences, that by thus perceiving the slender tenure of her power, she may be forced to look above the body for motives to sustain her in dominion over appetite. Those who yield to their lower propensities so far as to regard their indulgence as the end or purpose, instead of the means and appendage of life, to surfeit rather than to suffice Nature, are said to make their lusts their gods, because they really serve and obey them. Quorum finis interitus, quorum Deus venter, et gloria in dedecore ipsorum. Reason is strong only in proportion to her motives. She is next to omnipotent in her control over the body, when she derives her motives from the Almighty. Hence the reasonableness of the account of man's first disobedience. The test was simple and sufficient. But in order to understand its force, we must remember that the temptation was presented with a false promise of increased knowledge and power. It was made reasonable by at once appealing to appetite and to the pure self-love of our nature; for reason's fall is the distrust of her Maker. Therefore, as Byron says, "if we get rid of the apple, we are no better off." Such, then, is the grand lesson we learn from our necessities being provided for in such a manner that the exercise of judgment is required to avoid the dangers to which our appetites, undirected by exact instinct, would otherwise surely lead us.

The education of our appetites, first under the tuition of parental care and foresight, and then under the vigilance of our own reason in the actual experience of good and evil, constitutes the very marked distinction between a responsible and an instinctive creature. The latter is under a law which governs its pro- pensities with undeviating precision, and which operates as a function of its bodily structure; but the former must be dependent on obedience to laws belonging to the mind. Man discriminates as regards

known effects, as well as from choice of sensation; but the lower creatures have no such choice, for instinct is ruled by appetite, but reason by knowledge of consequences. Instinct is informed by acuteness of sense, and has no power of correcting its impressions by reflection; but reason is taught by a sagacity derived from the power we possess of comparingappearances and estimating realities. Reason is analytical as well as logical; but instinct is neither, but it is merely sensuous, and man's mind is little better when he chooses to enjoy the present without regard to the future. Hence the use and abuse of appetite afford criteria of the state and power of our reason. To use the world, without abusing it, is the doctrine of Christianity, because it is a dispensation which sets our reason right with regard to all our appetites, while it introduces our spirits into fellowship with the Creator, who would have us all enter into the fulness of his own satisfactionthat rest in goodness which contemplates a universe reposing in the peace, glory, and blessing of its Maker; for to partake of the bread of heaven is to feast with God.

The word appetite has been restricted by common usage to express the propensity for food; and, probably, because of its regularity, importance, and power, it furnishes the strongest metaphor of mental desire, as when Lamb speaks of Coleridge looking forward to death as if hungering for eternity. This phrase, however, is but a poor imitation of the beautiful words, "Blessed is he who hungers and thirsts after righteousness; for he shall be filled." The wise man, in his proverbs, has taught the necessity of temperance in all things, by language referring only to this desire for food, and his exhortation to us to cease from our own wisdom is well enforced, by enjoining abstinence from deceitful food, as if to intimate that truth alone is the proper aliment of the soul. Wisdom and temperance have always been companions; and men most famous for the extent and continued energy of their faculties, have been so convinced that habitual moderation in eating and drinking was essential to the full and healthy employment of their intellect, that those best known for clearness and elevation of mind have also been most remarkable for their control over their appetites. Sir Isaac Newton is a good example. Dr. Cheyne states of him, that, when he applied himself to

« AnteriorContinuar »