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The Naturalist's Diary.

For January, 1830.

I love the Summer calm, I love
Smooth seas below, blue skies above,
The placid lake, the unruffled stream,
The woods that rest beneath the beam;
I love the deep, deep pause that reigns
At highest noon o'er hills and plains;
And own that Summer's gentle rule
Is soothing, soft, and beautiful.

Yet Winter, in its august form

Has charms, there's grandeur in the storm
When the winds battle with the floods,
And bow the mightiest of the woods;
When the loud thunder, crash on crash,
Follows the lightning's herald flash;

And rocks, and spires, and towers are rent,

"Tis startling, but magnificent. N. T. CARRINGTON.

The winter solstice calls us to reflect on the blessings which the munificent Author of nature grants to us in this rigorous season. The advantages of winter to the earth, to the atmosphere, and to man, are incalculably great. In consequence of the cold and frost, many noxious vapours are retained in the superior regions of the atmosphere, by which means the air is rendered more pure. Far from being prejudicial to the health of man, they often improve it, and counteract that debility which a continued heat would produce. The constitution of the human body varies according to the climate in which it is placed, so that the inhabitants of the northern countries enjoy a constitution adapted to the excessive cold that prevails there, and they are generally very robust and hardy. Even as man, though he loves to be in action, and that labour is necessary to him, is yet glad to have his toil interrupted by the recurrence of each evening, to taste

the sweets of sleep, and to pass into a state altogether opposite to that in which he was when awake; so also does our nature accommodate itself to the vicissitudes of the seasons, and we are pleased with them, because they contribute to our happiness and well-being.

At present our fields and our gardens are covered with snow, which is necessary to preserve them from being injured by the cold, to secure the seeds from the impetuosity of the winds, and to prevent their being destroyed. The fields, after having, during the fine weather, produced all the fruits upon which we live in the winter, require some repose. And in this we have great cause to acknowledge the wisdom and goodness of God; for if he had not provided for our support, and if to obtain our nourishment we were obliged to cultivate the earth in this rigorous season, our complaints might have some foundation; but he has begun by filling our magazines which are sufficient to supply all our wants, and permit us to enjoy a degree of repose suitable to the season.

Almighty God, thy pow'r we sing!
And to thy goodness tribute bring
For all thy works of love;

Thy wisdom crowns thy boundless might,
Thy kindness brings thy truth to light,

As clear as orbs above.

Thy universe thy greatness shows,
And endless space thy presence knows,
O wond'rous, glorious God!
Thy finger marks the comet's sphere,
And countless orbs in full career
Pursue their various road.

Nor less the wonders of thine hand,
Which, nearer viewed, our souls command,

For grandeur shines in all;

The lightning's glare, the foaming deep,
The whirlwind's blast, the craggy steep,
Our trembling frames appal.

And, wand'ring through the globe of earth,
On which unnumber'd tribes have birth,
In quick successive round,
We stop to gaze, but soon are lost
On seas of pow'r creative tost,
The pow'r without a bound.

How full are earth, and sea, and air!
How great thy love! what constant care
Of all the host is shown;

On great and small thy bounty flows,
And all creation richly glows

With goodness all thine own.

Dreary as is this season of the year, there is still much to interest the naturalist and lover of nature. The pleasures of the microscope are greater than at any other period, for the chrystals of frozen water which appear nothing to the naked eye, present the most beautiful appearances when viewed through the glass, far surpassing all the efforts of arts in variety and beauty.

The progress of vegetation too is still going on and affords full scope for pleasing observation, as well as much to be done in the garden; as is practically shown by Mr. Riviere, of Hampden Cottage, Sawbridgeworth, who thus describes his winter garden in The Gardener's Magazine. "My cottage is situate about the middle of the garden, which consists of one acre it is a parellelogram, or long square, being exactly as long again as it is broad, sloping gently to the east. One-fourth of this spot I have endeavoured to convert into a winter garden. On the north side is a brick wall; on the south, plantations of evergreens; at the top, facing the east, the house stands; at the bottom, facing the west, is a summer-house. The wall is well clothed with bearing peaches and nectrines. About 18 inches from the wall, I have planted chrysanthemums, 4 feet asunder, which during the summer months, are tied up to strong sticks. About the

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10th of October, when the fruit has been all gathered, I untie them from the sticks, expand, and tie them to the fruit trees, generally so that they completely cover the wall, at least from 2 feet from the ground to the top, 8 feet. I find not the least impediment to the ripening of the fruit by the chrysanthemums, as sufficient sun and air come between them for that purpose; and they being 18 inches from the wall, there is plenty of room to manage the trees. As they decay, I cut them off, for nothing is more unsightly than decayed flowers or stalks in a well regulated flower garden. On the south side, the back row is a perfect yew-hedge; the border from which, 8 feet wide, consists of boxes, Portugal laurels, arbor vitæ, yellow-berried privets, Chinese privets, arbutus, symphòria or snowberry; variegated and green hollies, of all the varieties, perhaps 20; lauristinus, Alexander laurels, butcher's broom, Aúcuba japónica, Phillyrea, bays, and others: all disposed according to their different heights; which border extends, in a semicircular turn, to the summer-house; on the other side of which, up to the wall, is a corresponding semicircular border, planted with the same mixture of evergreens. Likewise, at top, on each side of the house, there are similar borders; so that the area, or open space is a long oval; dispersed over which there are a number of circular and oval clumps, of different sizes. In the more choice kinds, such as scarlet arbutus, magnolia, grandiflóra, mespilus japonicas, two or three fine hollies, &c.; and each clump has a proper number of chrysanthemums, of the hardier kinds, such as the crimson quilled, white, French white, changeable pale buff, spanish brown, buff, rose, bright yellow, &c., each sort on a clump; and I believe I am not the only one who admire flowers in masses. On each side of the summer-house there are edgings of the helléborus niger or christmas

rose. Now I must extend this description as long as nature continues to assume the aspect of winter, say till about Lady-day, for no deciduous trees, or shrubs burst their buds till after that period.

"Edgings of early spring flowers are round each clump, such as eránthus hyemalis or winter aconite: hepaticas, white, blue, and red; snowdrops, Persian iris, primroses, violets, &c., and a most extensive variety of crocus of all hues, more than 20 sorts. Some of which are in bloom from the beginning of February, till the end of March. Likewise, the front edge of the evergreen border of Amaryllis lùtea, which, being in the shade, bloom late, and are in full flower from the beginning of November, till christmas."

Hail, winter! rigid winter, hail!

Thou dost not come with aspect bland ;
Yet from thy glance I do not quail,
Nor shrink beneath thy icy hand.

For though thou come with churlish mien,
And sadden grove, and hill, and plain,
Thy frowns may change the smiling scene,
But they are bent on me in vain.

True, the fresh lily thou canst kill,

And make the blooming rose decay,
But thou dost leave me, winter, still
Far dearer, lovelier flowers than they.

When hills and plains are veiled in snow,
And scarce the sun emits a gleam,
Then ruddy cheeks still ruddier glow,
And their bright eyes still brighter beam.

Pale autumn's train of lingering flowers
Must in thy bosom find their tomb,
But e'en thy bleakest, stormiest hours,
Shed o'er my buds a brighter bloom.

Then, winter, howl without our dome,
Within it, they thy hours beguile;
Thy frowns can ne'er invade a home
Where even thou art made to smile.

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