pleasures we derive from these munificent gifts excite in our souls such emotions as will consecrate the wonders of divine wisdom which appear in them, and inspire in us that gratitude and secret complacency, which leads us from the survey of Nature's work to the Fountain of immortality.

As the days of Spring lengthen, our attention is still farther called upon to witness the progress of its final preparation for summer. The husbandman, like the early bee, looks forward for the reward of his industry; not a corn-field appears but what promises a future vegetation; and the meadows are either ripening for the mower, or filling with flowers. Here and there in the different pastures are dispersed the flocks which await the shearer's command; the cattle feeding from the juices of the fresh grass throw off their old coats of winter, and express by their various cries and sleek appearance, the joy with which they are animated. The emerald fir-tree waves gracefully in the tender breeze; and the "birch-trees, like stooping nymphs, hang with their thickening hair.” The blooming vistas of the horse-chestnut-tree wildly discharge their beautiful perfume; the lilac, barberry, labernum, and guelder rose, are in equal perfection; and the woods and meadows proudly boast of the gilded oak. The gardens are yet

yielding their silver bloom productive of autumnal fruits; while that which has already faded, affords an agreeable, though immature, product in its earlier order. The full luxury of the flower-beds, "the breeze that wafts the rich perfume," the insect on the wing, the murmuring brooks which play through the flowery meads, the lowing of the distant cattle at evening, the hooting of the owl, and the light of the glow-worm, all contribute to render us pleasure by the association of ideas; to exhilarate the spirits, and to call forth our grateful adoration.

"From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed,
Anemonies, auriculas, enrich'd

With shining meal o'er all their velvet leaves;
And full ranunculus of glowing red.

Then comes the tulip-race, where beauty plays
Her idle freaks; from family diffused
To family, as flies the father dust,
The varied colours run; and while they break
On the charm'd eye, th' exulting florist marks
With secret pride the wonders of his hand,
No gradual bloom is wanting; from the bud
First born of spring, to summer's musky tribes;
Nor hyacinths, of purest virgin bright,
Low bent, and blushing inward; nor jonquils,
Of potent fragrance; nor narcissus fair,

As o'er the fabled mountain hanging still;

Nor broad carnations, nor gay spotted pinks;

Nor, shower'd from every bush, the damask rose.'

Here is a second arrival of those fugitives, which we have before described to have left our

barren isle, for the warmer and more productive climate, during our winter season: and these are welcomed by the song of our native birds, which now fill the air with gladness, and merrily respond to the cheerfulness of the season. These are now as busily employed in robbing the blossom of its fruit, as they were formerly in rescuing the bloom from its fatal destroyer. Thus these

"Happy commoners

That haunt in woods, in meads, in flowery gardens,
Rifle the sweets, and taste the choicest fruits,
Yet scorn to ask the lordly owner's leave."

Every hill and dale ring with the modulation of their sweet voices; and the same delightful instinct which inspires these warblers, creates in man peculiar sensations to listen to their sweet melodies, and to join with secret fervency in the oratorio of praise presented by Nature to its august Creator. There are yet a few more observations to be made on spring, worthy the attention of youth. Serenely calm as may be this season in the dayspring of happiness; scented by the perfume of flowers, cheered by the singing of birds, with joy beaming in the face of Nature, and gladness thrilling through the heart of man: we need only notice the frightful operations of the spring blight; when

"Myriads on myriads, insect armies warp

Keep in the poison'd breeze; and wasteful eat,

Through buds, and bark, into the blacken'd core
Their eager ways,"

to remind us that it is an emblem of frail mortality. To-day the flower spreads forth its leaves, and we admire its beauty; but to-morrow all its glory vanishes, and as the scythe severs the grass from the ground, the hand of death sweeps it away. In this design we cannot trace the secret steps of divine wisdom further than to warn our inclinations from those ravishing delights that prompt us to sin; that tempt us to violate the decrees of Nature, by wickedly profaning her works, which should be a sanctuary, in which to glorify her beneficent Author; to caution us of the uncertainty of temporal objects and desires; and to present to our minds, that although the sun may shine, and the birds sing, and the flowers give their odours, unless they are converted into an habitual sacrifice, they are but as the vanity of man, who, in the dark delusion of error and immorality, lives but in vain.

137

THE SEASONS OF LIFE.

CHAPTER II.

THE SUMMER OF LIFE.

NATURE is now arrayed in all the pomp and pride of summer beauty; the modest buds of spring no longer peep from beneath the shelter of protecting leaves, but luxuriating in full blown splendour, seem to court the admiration of every beholder. From the humblest wild flower that nestles on the grassy bank, or creeps upon the wall, to the gorgeous exotic, on whose culture the utmost skill of man has been lavished, all bear the impress of grace and loveliness. Hope and expectation are on tiptoe; for the face of the earth beams with gladness, and its fruits are advancing towards maturity. He who has cultivated the soil and nurtured the plants, with pleasure hails the promise of a plenteous crop to reward his anxious toil; and he beholds with a feeling of delight the blessings which nature has in store for him. Even so it is with man: the inexperience