'The meadow Sields 

 Are waving in the sunshine like a sea; 

 A billowy deep, urhose {lowers are like a foam.' 



v^^ 



What a picture of pastoral beaut\- those lines conjure 

 up to our imagination ! A bright, sunny morning in 

 June, when skies are cloudless and blue, and the balmy 

 summer breeze, gently stirring the wild luxuriance of 

 foliage and flower, tempers the heat of the sun. 



The year is at the zenith of its beauty, and the riotous profusion of 

 Nature is still in the first blush of young maturity, before the thunder- 

 storms of July and the scorching suns of August have caused the leaves 

 and flowers to lose somewhat of their fresh beauty, and take a deeper 

 note of green, as the season goes on its way. 



The days are now at their longest ; the light is at its best. We have 

 the whole long glorious day before us, to feast on its loveliness and to 

 learn the lessons it has in store. There is so much to see and so much 

 to do that our pencils need not be idle one moment, did we not want 

 time also to revel in the beauty we see everywhere around us, and so 

 become imbued, to our very souls, with the gladness it brings. If we 

 just merely make up our minds to copy slavishly specimen after 

 specimen of flower and leaf, never raising our eyes or pausing to 

 consider the wider beauty of the great Out of Doors, the " Altogether," 

 as one might term it, we shall lose much of the spirit of this lovely 

 summer-time. 



I do not mean we are to simply dream away those golden hours, and 

 so accomplish nothing tangible at all ; but in a long bright day in June 

 there is time to be practical enough to produce good work and also to 

 find leisure to look around us and enjoy the gladness of it all We 

 cannot feel discontented or disagreeable on a morning like this, no 

 matter how irksome our burdens, however uncongenial our daily task. 



43 



