yield the most exquisite delight to the fervent admirer of the beauties of nature, afford to the moralist a never failing source of the most pleasing reflections:

Fair pledges of a fruitful tree,
Why do you fall so fast?

Your date is not so past,

But you may stay yet here awhile,
To blush and gently smile;
And go at last.

What were you born to be
An hour or two's delight;
And so to bid good night!
'Twas pity Nature brought you forth
Merely to show your worth,

And lose you quite.

But you are lovely leaves, where we
May read how soon things have
Their end, though ne'er so brave:
And after they have shown their pride,
Like you awhile they glide

Into the grave.

HERRICK,

None of the other seasons can vie with Spring in loveliness and amenity.

It has the same

order among them that the morning has among the divisions of the day, and youth among the stages of life. It may be called the favourite season of harmony; for the warblings of the fea thered tribes have been observed to have now a peculiar wildness and sweetness of melody. Nor is its sweet influence confined to the songsters of the groves it pervades the whole animal creation. But I must confine my observations to its influence on man, that I may not be led to exceed the limits of this Paper. Thomson, in his inimitable Seasons, has left nothing on this subject for future poets to describe.

In the opening of Spring, and the subsequent renovation of Nature, how very sensibly is the

9

human soul exhilarated by that sense of pleasure, which inspires the birds with melody, and the whole creation with joy. In this season, when we contemplate the smiling scenes around, those secret overflowings of gladness are diffused over the soul, which compose what Milton expressively calls vernal delight,' and which I have heard denominated, with no less beauty and propriety,

the smile of Nature.' What an exquisite sense of this does the virtuous philosopher experience! The creation, particularly in this lovely season, is a perpetual feast to the mind of a good man. From all that he beholds, he receives instruction and delight.

In every flower, leaf, or blade of grass, a series of fables may be read, whose moral is in the heart. To those who have known the pure and tranquil enjoyment of a mind at leisure, to repose and dream amid the green earth's woods and vales, and find that there is in the material world around us more than will fill the gaze of the artist, or inspire the reverie of the enthusiast-that there is, in all that the divine Intelligence has moulded, a principle of moral meaning and an inherence of moral life; to such, the following lines from Mr. Wilson's Hymn to Spring will recal many feelings of luxury. Speaking of the flowers, buds, lambs, &c. that come with Spring, he says,

O blessed things!

At sight of this your perfect innocence
The sterner thoughts of manhood melt away
Into a mood as mild as woman's dreams.
The strife of working intellect, the stir
Of hopes ambitious, the disturbing sound
Of fame, and all that worshipped pageantry
That ardent spirits burn for in their pride,
Fly like disparting clouds, and leave the sour
Pure and serene as the blue depths of heaven.

The poet thus continues his pleasing theme:

Now is the time in some meek solitude

To hold communion with those innocent thoughts
That blest our earlier days;-to list the voice
Of Conscience murmuring from her inmost shrine,
And learn if still she sing the quiet tune

That filled the ear of youth. If then we feel,
That mid the powers, the passions, and desires,
Of riper age, we have still kept our hearts
Free from pollution, and, mid tempting scenes,
Walked on with pure and unreproved steps,
Fearless of guilt as if we knew it not!
Ah, me! with what a new sublimity

Will the green hills lift up their sunny heads,
Ourselves as stately! smiling will we gaze

On the clouds whose happy home is in the heavens ;
Nor envy the clear streamlet that pursues

His course, 'mid flowers and music, to the sea.
But dread the beauty of a vernal day,
Thou trembler before memory!

Providence, indeed, has adorned the whole creation with such a variety of beautiful and useful objects, that it is impossible for a mind, not imbruted by mere sensual enjoyments, to contemplate the scenes around without some of the sweetest internal sensations of which man can be susceptible. But when to the delightful satisfaction which rural objects afford, we add an occasional attention to the studies of natural philosophy, our relish for the beauties of the creation is quickened, and rendered not only pleasing to the imagination, but to the understanding; and it is an unquestionable truth, that the man who extends his inquiries into the works of Nature, multiplies, in some degree, the inlets to happiness. The philosopher is not content with the lulling murmur of brooks, or the enlivening melody of birds, with the shade of embowering woods, the verdure of fields, or the embroidery of meadows. He will reflect, on the contrary, on the infinite L

VOL. I.

variety of benevolent purposes to which they are all subservient, and the wonders of that Divine Wisdom of which they all exhibit such impressions. While the pleasures of the eye, in course, are heightened, his soul is exalted to that rational admiration, which insensibly leads to love and adoration; and while he walks superior amid the glad creation, musing praise, and looking lively gratitude,' with a kind of sacred ecstacy he exclaims,

These are thy glorious works, Parent of Good,
Almighty, Thine this universal frame.

Thus wondrous fair: Thyself how wondrous then
Unspeakable!

MILTON.

While unusual sweetness thus inspires the whole creation with a purer joy, the moral philosopher is led to inquire into the natural effects of this delightful influence, not only on the frame, but on the heart of man. The affections, he is fond to imagine, are all attuned to benevolence, and each discordant passion soothed to serenity and peace. This beautiful idea is adopted by Thomson; Can fierce passions vex his breast,

While every gale is peace, and every grove
Is melody?

With what a generous satisfaction too will Humanity reflect on the restorative effects of Spring! The convalescent, so lately wretched, so long oppressed by the heavy load of pain, and languor, and disease, now feel, as it were, a new creation; and sweet are the cheering sensations, sweet the unwonted joys, that now recal them to the exertions of strength and happiness of health.

Fair the face of Spring,

When rural songs and odours wake the morn
To every eye; but how much more to his
Round whom the bed of sickness long diffused

Its melancholy gloom! How doubly fair,
When first with fresh-born vigour he inhales
The balmy breeze, and feels the blessed sun
Warm at his bosom, from the springs of life
Chasing oppressive damps and languid pain!

AKENSIDE.

But as the human mind is not universally the same, the renovation of spring sheds not on all alike its enlivening influence. Some persons, at times, experience sensations very different from that gaiety which is supposed to be inseparable from the vernal season. Amid the bright verdure of the earth, the gay variety of trees and flowers, and the serenity of the blue concave, a kind of tranquil melancholy enters into all their solitary moments, which the beauties of the landscape, and the melody of the birds, will rather soothe than overcome. Among the various reasons that may be given for the occurrence of such pensive ideas, is the recollection, perhaps, that the Spring brings back with it the remembrance, but not the return of our youthful scenes of hilarity and strength; and that while Nature, in regular vicissitude, is renewed in youth and beauty, man hastes apace to that wintry state of infirmity and decrepitude, when the brightest Spring must cease to charm, and life itself expire, under the pressure of accumulated years. Indulging such sentiments as these, one may be disposed to address Spring in the words of Mirtillo, in the Pastor Fido of Guarini, the turn of which has been so beautifully copied by Milton'.

Thus with the year

Seasons return, but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine,