286 BERKSHIRE SOCIETY. 



generous emulation of industry — the face smiling in its enthu- 

 siasm — the eye lit up with the sparkle of eager and honorable 

 effort — the swarthy arm of free labor bared to the full develop- 

 ment of the light and straining muscles — the encouraging 

 cheer and halloo to the cattle, half sensible of the holiday strife 

 of their owners — all were on the field developing the triumphs 

 of the farmer, and illustrating the kindness of that Providence, 

 which softened the curse of earth's first farmer, by attaching to 

 "labor's brow-bedewed toil," the surest elements of indepen- 

 dence and happiness. 



Nature is a kind friend, earth is a gentle mother. She gath- 

 ers her children about her in the autumn ; and as Providence, 

 after the waste of a deluge, pointed to a rainbow in the sky 

 as the pledge and a promise of hope, so kind earth bids her 

 children here look out upon the rainbows which are interlaced 

 upon the mountain side, and the many tints of the ripened har- 

 vest, as the pledge and the witness of hope's realization, and 

 labor's generous reward. The strife of the ploughmen went 

 on — the damp farrows browned in the October sun — mothers 

 and sisters and daughters smiled upon the skill of sons and 

 brothers — music sent up its mellow voice — the birds which 

 had lingered from their southern tour to sing their farewell 

 concert at the farmer's jubilee, joined their melody to shrill fife 

 and soul-stirring trumpet — the goal was reached, and the sward 

 which so late had been gleaming with dew-drops, was prepared 

 for the tasseled corn of another harvest. 



The triumphs of honest industry are the best, perhaps the only 

 real triumphs of ambition. The furrows which the politician 

 ploughs, are either too wide or too shallow, or his work is not 

 performed in the time which is marked out for him at the com- 

 mencement of his career. His eager strife wins few laurels, 

 and no valuable harvest rewards the heart-burni)igs and toil of 

 seed-time. The angry tide of speculation wastes itself upon 

 the sands, or wrecks the bark it bears on its crest, upon beetling 

 cliffs. But the ploughman knows when he turns the furrow, 

 that the sun of another summer will swell the seed which he 

 casts there, and that a kind Providence hovers above him, with 

 the blessed promise, "seed time and harvest shall not fail." 



