THE ENTOMOLOGIST’S 
WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER. 
No. 34.] SATURDAY, MAY 23, 1857. [Price 1 d. 
COUNTRY LIFE. 
Much as the poets have sung of the 
pleasures of the country, and of a 
country life, we fancy that it is the in- 
dwellers of the towns who most enjoy 
the country — when they can visit it. 
Those who live from January to De- 
cember in the country have little con- 
ception of the peculiar feeling which a 
run into the country produces in those 
who see it hut occasionally for a few days 
in the course of the year. By such the 
nosegay of real country flowers is trea- 
sured as long as it will last, and a 
bright-coloured beetle is often brought 
home, and kept as a curiosity typical of 
the bright summer’s day and brilliant 
blue sky, when it was found crawling on 
some flowery bank. 
Go, visit some small country village 
where there are only straggling houses, 
and not a single street, where from every 
cottage window views of fields and trees 
may be obtained, enquire and see if the 
inhabitants of this obscure village, which 
a poet would describe as a little paradise, 
are at all aware of the peculiar pleasures 
which they might be supposed to be en- 
joying. He who, on some chance excur- 
sion from the town where he is detained 
by business throughout the year, visits 
such a quiet spot, is, no doubt, surprised 
at the callousness of these villagers to 
the pleasurable sights and sounds by 
which they are surrounded : he is, per- 
haps, almost envious of their lot, and 
wishes (oh, how fervently!) that he could 
quit the manufacturing town, of which 
he is continually breathing the smoke, 
and live peaceably in just such a quiet 
rural retreat. Before, however, the spirit 
of envy and discontent enters his bosom, 
let him note whether the inhabitants of 
this quiet hamlet are really so much 
more highly favoured than himself. He 
feels himself in an ecstasy of joy this 
glorious summer day, when the birds are 
singing all around him, the grateful per- 
fume of the flowers is wafted towards 
him, and the eye gloats with delight on 
the green fields and fresh green foliage 
of the trees, or glances rapturously over 
the hilly view in the distance. But how 
far is it not the case that the extreme en- 
joyment which he derives from his peep 
into Arcadia arises from the fact that 
such enjoyment comes but seldom ? He 
feels that he is but in the country for a 
time, and that the next day he must re- 
turn to his continual grind, grind, of 
daily business. He calls to memory the 
bright summer days when he visited the 
country the previous season; they stand 
up in his recollection as oases in the 
desert ; and, if he could probe the hearts 
of the villagers around him, he would 
find that he derives more, far more, en- 
joyment from his few visits to the country 
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