swiftly sweep over it; when the shadows of the clouds pass slowly
along the hills. Even the rainy day, if it come with soft summer-like
rain, is beautiful. People in town are apt to think of rain as a
mere nuisance; the chief good it does there is to water the streets
more generally and thoroughly than usual; a rainy day in town is
equivalent to a bad day; but in the country, if you possess even
the smallest portion of the earth, you learn to rejoice in the
rain. You go out in it; you walk about and enjoy the sight of the
grass momently growing greener; of the trees looking refreshed,
and the evergreens gleaming, the gravel walks so free from dust,
and the roads watered so as to render them beautifully compact,
but not at all sloppy or muddy; summer rain never renders well-made
country roads sloppy or muddy. There is a pleasure in thinking that
you have got far ahead of man or machine; and you heartily despise
a watering-cart, while enjoying a soft summer shower. And after
the shower is over, what fragrance is diffused through the country
air; every tree and shrub has an odour which a summer shower
brings out, and which senses trained to perception will perceive.
And then, how full the trees and woods are of the singing of birds!
But there is one feeling which, if you live in the country, is
common to all pleasant summer days, but particularly to sunshiny
ones; it is that you are doing injustice to nature, that you are
losing a great deal, if you do not stay almost constantly in the
open air. You come to grudge every half hour that you are within
doors, or busied with things that call you off from observing and
thinking of all the beauty that is around you everywhere. That
fair scene,--trees, grass, flowers, sky, sunshine, is there to be
looked at and enjoyed; it seems wrong, that with such a picture
passing on before your eyes, your eyes should be turned upon
anything else. Work, especially mental work, is always painful;