Psalm 65:9 You visit the earth, and water it: you greatly enrich it with the river of God, which is full of water: you prepare them corn… The harvest-time is the most delightful of all the seasons of the year. It is the time of fulfilled hopes and realized expectations. Of all the many beautiful sights of this season, the most beautiful and interesting are the cornfields rippling in light and shade, like the waves of a sunset sea, away over valley and upland to the purple shores of the distant hills. They are the characteristic features of the season — the illuminated initials on Nature's autumnal page, whose golden splendour is variegated here and there with wreaths of scarlet poppies, corn blue-bottles, and purple vetches. The landscape seems to exist solely for them, so prominent and important are they in it. Wherever they appear they are the pictures for which the rest of the scenery, however grand or beautiful, is but the mere frame. No one can gaze upon these golden cornfields without being influenced more or less by the pleasing associations with which they are connected. They strike their roots deep down into the soil of time; they are as old as the human race. They waved upon the earth long before the flood, under the husbandry of the "world's grey fathers." The sun in heaven has ripened more than six thousand of them. Progress is the law of nature, and everything else obeys it, but the harvest-field exhibits little or no change. It presents nearly the same picture in this Western clime and in these modern days as it did under the glowing skies of the East in the time of the patriarchs. We see the same old familiar scene now enacted under our eyes in every walk we take, which Ruth saw when she gleaned after her kinsman's reapers in one of the quiet valleys of Bethlehem, or which our blessed Saviour so frequently gazed upon when wandering with His disciples in the mellow afternoon around the verdant shores of Gennesaret. The harvest-fields are the golden links that connect the ages and the zones, and associate together the most distant times and the remotest nations in one common bond of sympathy and dependence. They make of the earth one great home. But the most delightful association which the harvest recalls is that of the great world-covenant which God made with Noah and symbolized by the bow in the cloud. And now, whenever we see that gorgeous blossom of light expanding its seven-coloured petals from the dark bosom of the cloud, we know that the storm, however long-continued and violent, will not always last; that the waters of Noah will no more go over the earth; that seed-time and harvest, cold and heat, day and night, summer and winter, will never cease. Our cornfields grow and ripen securely under that covenant-arch, whose key-stone is in the heavens, and whose foundations are upon the earth. They afford to us the most striking evidence, season after season, of the integrity and stability of the covenant-promise. There may have been no harvest in Canaan, but there was corn in Egypt, though the application of this compensation was sometimes rendered difficult by natural or moral obstructions. But whether the harvest be local or general, whether we be dependent upon the produce of our own fields or upon the surplus supplies of commerce, in either case it is to the covenant faithfulness of God that we are indebted for the blessing. Corn is the special gift of God to man. All the other plants we use as food are unfit for this purpose in their natural condition, and require to have their nutritious qualities developed, and their nature and forms to a certain extent changed by a gradual process of cultivation. But it is not so with corn. It has from the very beginning been an abnormal production. God gave it to Adam, we have every reason to believe, in the same perfect state of preparation for food in which we find it at the present day. We cannot regard it as an accidental, but, on the contrary, as a striking providential circumstance, that the corn-plants were utterly unknown throughout all the geological periods. Not the slightest trace of vestige of them occurs in any of the strata of the earth, until we come to the most recent formations, contemporaneous with man. They are exclusively and characteristically plants of the human epoch; their remains are found only in deposits near the surface, which belong to the age of man. There is another proof that corn was created expressly for man's use in the fact that it has never been found in a wild state. The primitive types from which all our other esculent plants were derived are still to be found in a state of nature in this or in other countries. The wild beet and cabbage still grow on our sea-shores; the crab-apple and the sloe, the savage parents of our luscious pippins and plums, are still found among the trees Of the wood; but where are the original types of our corn-plants? Corn has never been known as anything else than a cultivated plant. The oldest records speak of it exclusively as such. Wheat grains have been found wrapped up in the cerements of Egyptian mummies, which were old before history began, identical in every respect with the same variety which the farmer sows at the present day. Moreover, it is a universal plant. It is found everywhere. By striking adaptations of different varieties of grain, containing the same essential ingredients, to different soils and climates, Providence has furnished the indispensable food for the sustenance of the human race throughout the whole habitable globe; and all nations, and tribes, and tongues can rejoice together as one great family with the joy of harvest. Corn is the food most convenient and most suitable for man in a social state. It is only by the careful cultivation of it that a country becomes capable of permanently supporting a dense population. All other kinds of food are precarious, and cannot be stored up for any length of time; roots and fruits are soon exhausted, the produce of the chase is uncertain, and, if hard pressed, ceases to yield a supply. It is an annual plant. It cannot be propagated in any other way than by seed, and when it has yielded its harvest it dies down and rots in the ground; self-sown, it will gradually dwindle away, and at last disappear altogether. "It can only be reared permanently by being sown by man's own hand, and in ground which man's own hand has tilled." (H. Macmillan, D. D.) Parallel Verses KJV: Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it: thou greatly enrichest it with the river of God, which is full of water: thou preparest them corn, when thou hast so provided for it. |