
248 RICHES. 


to a lad, Carry him to his mother. And when 
he had taken him, and brought him to his | 
mother, he sate on her knees till noon, and 
then died.? 2nd Kings, iv. 18—20. Let 
no one say it is not a season of happiness to the 
toiling peasantry; I know that it is. In the 
days of boyhood I have partaken their harvest 
labours, and listened to the overflowings of 
their hearts as they sate amid the sheaves be- 
neath the fine blue sky, or among the rich 
herbage of some green headland beneath the | 
shade of a tree, while the cool keg plentifully 
replenished the horn; and sweet after exertion 
were the contents of the harvest-field basket. | 
I know that the poor harvesters are amongst 
the most thankful contemplators of the bounty 
of Providence, though so little of it falls to | 
their share. To them harvest comes as an | 
annual festivity. To their healthful frames, 
the heat of the open fields, which would oppress 
the languid and relaxed, is but an exhilarating 
glow. The inspiration of the clear blue sky 
above, and of scenes of plenty around them ; 
and the very circumstance of their being drawn 
from their several dwellings at this bright sea- 
son, open their hearts, and give a life to their 
memories; and many an anecdote and history 
from ‘the simple annals of the poor’ are there 
related, which need only to pass through the 
mind of a Wordsworth or a Crabbe, to become 
immortal in their mirth or woe.’? 









































