Geology^ and Climate of the Island of Madeira. 371 



has prevented any thinp^ of the appearance of wintry gloom 

 and desolation, there is yet in spring a marked and rapid change 

 in the freshness and verdure of the landscape. The vine then 

 puts forth its young shoots in luxuriance ; and, by concealing 

 with its verdure the trellis- work and soil on the sloping grounds, 

 greatly adds to the beauty of the landscape. The orange, the 

 almond, the citron, and a multitude of plants, are covered with 

 profusion of blossom. The leaves of the oak, the plane, and 

 other trees, elsewhere deciduous, but which here hang withered 

 on the boughs through the winter, are displaced by the shoot- 

 ing of the new foliage. While this change is beginning to 

 take place on the ccast, the air being the while more genial, 

 and the verdure as beautiful as is ever presented by an English 

 summer, one looks up through every gradation of temperature 

 and vegetation to bleak and barren waste, upon the snow- 

 covered hills in the distance. Or, again, in the declining 

 months of the year, while on the coast the summer foliage is 

 yet unaltered, and the influence of the sun yet little dimi- 

 nished, there have already begun to be felt chilling colds upon 

 the heights above the town, and the upper parts of the land- 

 scape present the variegated tints and the fading foliage of 

 autumn. In places about 2000 feet above the sea, such as the 

 Quinta of the Palheiro, or the villa of the Mount, the appear- 

 ance is then quite like that of our northern autumnal scenery. 

 Towards the close of the summer, in going up thither from the 

 vineyards and orchards, and tropical vegetation of Funchal, 

 we get amongst plantations of oak and pine, and other Euro- 

 pean trees ; and the sloping grounds are clothed with heath, 

 and broom, and furze ; the note of the blackbird is heard ; 

 and the wood strawberry covers the banks ; and many other 

 sights and sounds bring recollection of scenes different from 

 those by which we are surrounded. There is luxury even in 

 seeing the sparkling of the dew-drops on the upland lawn, and 

 in hearing the rustling of the falling leaves, both of which are 

 absent on the low grounds. In going up to this place, which 

 is within an hour's ride of the city, one might call it riding up 

 to an English autumn, so many of the appearances and plea- 

 . sures of our season are there gathered together. 



On the highest parts of the island, again, all the severity of 



