THE GLADNESS OF NATURE.

255

found and generous emotion. It reveals to us the loveliness of nature, brings back the freshness of early feeling, revives the relish of simple pleasures, keeps unquenched the enthusiasm which warmed the spring time of our being, refines youthful love, strengthens our interest in human nature by vivid delineations of its tenderest and loftiest feelings, spreads our sympathies over all classes of society, knits us by new ties with universal being, and, through the brightness of its prophetic visions, helps faith to lay hold on the future life."Channing.

66

Anything would be better than a national society, formed for no higher than physical ends;-to enable men to eat, drink, and live luxuriously;-acknowledging no power greater than its own, and by consequence, no law higher than its own municipal enactments. Let a few generations pass over in such a state, and the missionary, who should preach the worship of Ceres, or set up an oracle of Apollo, or teach the people to kindle the eternal fire of Vesta on the common altar hearth of their country, would be to that degraded society as life from the dead."-Arnold.

THE world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This sea that bares her bosom to the moon ;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for every thing, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.-Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

WORDSWORTH.

XXVI. THE GLADNESS OF NATURE.

"BEAUTY is an all-pervading presence. It unfolds in the numberless flowers of the spring. It waves in the branches of the trees and the green blades of grass. It haunts the depths of the earth and sea, and gleams out in the hues of the shell and the precious stone. And not only these minute objects, but the ocean, the mountains, the clouds, the heavens, the stars, the rising and setting sun, all overflow with beauty. The universe is its temple; and those men, who are alive to it, cannot lift their eyes without feeling themselves encompassed with it on every side."- Channing.

Is this a time to be cloudy and sad,

When our mother Nature laughs around;

When even the deep blue heavens look glad,

And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?

There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren,
And the gossip of swallows through all the sky;
The ground-squirrel gaily chirps by his den,
And the wilding bee hums merrily by.

The clouds are at play in the azure space,

And their shadows at play on the bright green vale,
And here they stretch to the frolic chase,
And there they roll on the easy gale.

There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower,

There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree,

There's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower,
And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea.
And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles
On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray,
On the leaping waters and gay young isles;
Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom away.

BRYANT.

XXVII. SONG-ON MAY MORNING.

"It is not more true, however, that we weep with those who weep, than that we rejoice with those who rejoice. There is a charm in general gladness, that steals upon us without our perceiving it; and if we have no cause for sorrow, it is sufficient for our momentary happiness that we be in the company of the happy. Who is there, of such fixed melancholy, as not to have felt innumerable times this delight, that arises, without any cause but the delight which has preceded it; when we are happy for hours, and, on looking back on these hours of happiness, can discover nothing but our own happiness, and the happiness of others, which have been reflected back, and again, from each to each? So strong is this sympathetic tendency, that we not merely share the gaiety of the gay, but rejoice also with inanimate things, to which we have given a cheerfulness that does not and cannot belong to them."-Brown's Philosophy.

Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.
Hail bounteous May, that dost inspire
Mirth and youth and warm desire;
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

MILTON.

THE USE OF FLOWERS.

XXVIII. A WALK IN SPRING.

257

"THE contemplation of universal nature rather bewilders the mind than affects it. There is always a bright spot in the prospect, upon which the eye rests; a single example, perhaps, by which each man finds himself more convinced than by all others put together. I seem, for my own part, to see the benevolence of the Deity more clearly in the pleasures of very young children, than in anything in the world. The pleasures of grown persons may be reckoned partly of their own procuring; especially if there has been any industry, or contrivance, or pursuit, to come at them: or if they are founded, like music, painting, &c., upon any qualification of their own acquiring. But the pleasures of a healthy infant are so manifestly provided for it by another, and the benevolence of the provision is so unquestionable, that every child I see at its sport affords to my mind a kind of sensible evidence of the finger of God, and of the disposition which directs it."--Paley's Moral and Political Philosophy.

I'm very glad the spring is come-the sun shines out so bright,
The little birds upon the trees are singing for delight.
The young grass looks so fresh and green, the lambkins sport
and play,

And I can skip and run about as merrily as they.

I like to see the daisy and the buttercups once more,

The primrose and the cowslip too, and every pretty flower;

I like to see the butterfly fluttering her painted wing,

And all things seem just like myself, so pleased to see the spring.

The fishes in the little brook are jumping up on high,
The lark is singing sweetly as she mounts into the sky;
The rooks are building up their nests upon the great tall tree,
And everything's as busy and as happy as can be.

There's not a cloud upon the sky, there's nothing dark or sad;

I jump, and scarce know what to do, I feel so very glad.
God must be very good indeed, who made each pretty thing:
I'm sure we ought to love Him much for bringing back the
spring.
M. A. STODART.

XXIX. THE USE OF FLOWERS.

"MAN'S use and function-and let him who will not grant me this follow me no further-is to be the witness of the glory of God, and to advance that glory by his reasonable obedience and resultant happiness. Whatever enables us to fulfil this function is, in the pure and first sense of the word, useful to us. And yet people speak, in this working age, as if houses, and lands, and food, and raiment, were alone useful; and, as if sight, thought, and admiration, were all profitless: so that men insolently call themselves Utilitarians, who would turn, if they had their way, themselves and their race into vegetables; men who think, as far as such can be said to think, that the meat is more than

the life, and the raiment than the body; who look to the earth as a stable, and to its fruit as fodder; vine-dressers and husbandmen, who love the corn they grind, and the grapes they crush, better than the gardens of the angels upon the slopes of Eden; hewers of wood and drawers of water, who think that the wood they hew, and the water they draw, are better than the pine forests that cover the mountains like the shadow of God, and than the great rivers that move like His eternity."-Ruskin.

GOD might have bade the earth bring forth
Enough' for great and small,

The oak-tree and the cedar-tree,

Without a flower at all.

We might have had enough, enough
For every want of ours,

For luxury, medicine, and toil,
And yet have had no flowers.
The ore within the mountain mine
Requireth none to grow;

Nor doth it need the lotus flower
To make the river flow.

The clouds might give abundant rain,
The nightly dews might fall,

And the herb that keepeth life in man
Might yet have drunk them all.

Then wherefore, wherefore were they made,
All dyed with rainbow light,
All fashioned with supremest grace,
Upspringing day and night,—
Springing in valleys green and low,
And on the mountains high,
And in the silent wilderness
Where no man passes by?

Our outward life requires them not:
Then wherefore had they birth ?—
To minister delight to man,
To beautify the earth;

To comfort man, to whisper hope
Whene'er his faith is dim;

For whoso careth for the flowers*
Will much more care for him.

MARY HOWITT.

1. What part of speech is enough here? | the lotus, and where does it grow in

2. What does none refer to?

3. Do you know any other name for

greatest abundance?

4. Quote a passage from the Gospels in proof of this.

THEY COME! THE MERRY SUMMER MONTHS. 259

XXX. SUMMER SONG OF THE STRAWBERRY GIRL. "DANTE places in his lowest hell those who in life were melancholy and repining without a cause, thus profaning and darkening God's blessed sunshine; and in some of the ancient Christian systems of virtues and vices, melancholy is unholy and a vice; cheerfulness is holy and a virtue. Lord Bacon also makes one of the characteristics of moral health and goodness to consist in a constant quick sense of felicity and a noble satisfaction.""- Mrs. Jameson's Common-place Book. It is summer! it is summer! how beautiful it looks! There is sunshine on the old grey hills, and sunshine on the brooks;

A singing bird on every bough, soft perfumes on the air,
A happy smile on each young lip, and gladness everywhere.
Oh, is it not a pleasant thing to wander through the woods,
To look upon the painted flowers, and watch the opening buds;
Or, seated in the deep cool shade at some tall ash-tree's root,
To fill my little basket with the sweet and scented fruit?
They tell me that my father's poor-that is no grief to me,
When such a blue and brilliant sky my upturned eye can see
They tell me, too, that richer girls can sport with toy and
gem;

It may be so-and yet, methinks, I do not envy them.
When forth I go upon my way, a thousand toys are mine,
The cluster of dark violets, the wreaths of the wild vine;
My jewels are the primrose pale, the bind-weed, and the rose ;
And show me any courtly gem more beautiful than those.
And then the fruit, the glowing fruit, how sweet the scent it
breathes !

I love to see its crimson cheek rest on the bright green leaves :
Summer's own gift of luxury, in which the poor may share,
The wild-wood fruit my eager eye is seeking everywhere.
Oh, summer is a pleasant time, with all its sounds and sights--
Its dewy mornings, balmy eves, and tranquil calm delights;
I sigh when first I see the leaves fall yellow on the plain,
And all the winter long I sing-Sweet summer, come again!
MARY HOWITT.

XXXI. THEY COME! THE MERRY SUMMER MONTHS. "To me, the most ordinary walk in the country is, and always has been a luxury. I remember what joy these things gave me when a boy, and now they give me again a boy's heart. I remember the enjoyment I experienced, when an old sportsman used to take his gun on his arm on a Saturday afternoon, when my village school made holiday, and led me up long lanes, between high mossy banks, where the little