37 



THE SNOW AND ITS TEACHINGS. 



N the 11th of January we had in these parts (south-east 

 corner of Midillesex) a great fall of snow. Probably 

 there was as great a fall elsewhere, but all I really know 

 about the matter is what I saw. And I wish I could 

 describe what I saw ; for this idea occurred to me — if it 

 is important to study the characters of trees, with a view to make 

 our parks and gardens beautiful, it is important, too, to study how 

 they look when covered with snow. In the particular case of this 

 fall of suow, an immense quantity of a most light and feathery kind 

 came down in the course of a few hours, and wherever it could 

 eflect a lodgment, there it lay, deep and pure, like a most blessed 

 burden, which the trees felt and yielded to most willingly. When 

 I drew aside the curtain of my bed-room window, and looked out upon 

 the gardens and fields on that memorable Thursday morning, the 

 scene was so grand and surpris.ng, so pure and full of suggestion, 

 both to heart and head ; for I thought, at one and the same moment, 

 of the overpowering evidence of Almighty wisdom which was set 

 forth in the boundless breadth of virgin snow, and of the needs of 

 my poor neighbours who were not well furnished with fuel, and 

 perhaps were in need of food also. When [ began to analyze the 

 scene, I was struck with the extraordinary faitlifulness of its resem- 

 blance to pictures I have seen of winter scenes in Canada. There 

 are some tine spruces to the right of my prospect, and these were so 

 laden with snow, that their character was quite changed. Taeir 

 arms hung down in regular oblique lines, closely approaching to the 

 perpendicular, the place of each indicated by the sharp black line 

 above, which was the huge swan's-down sort of covering, as if the 

 trees had clothed themselves with a prodigality of white garments, 

 a.nd were staggering under the load. Very different were the aspects 

 of oaks in tlie mid distance, where the garden blends with the park 

 — on the apple-trees on the left of the foreground, where the lawn 

 blends with the orchard. The gnarled, angular outlines of these 

 trees were well preserved, and they presented a peculiar combination 

 of the grotesque and the sublime. Next the lilacs in the flower 

 borders caught my eye ; their appearance was most pleasing, and I 

 was really astonished at the exquisite grace the snow had conferred 

 upon them, for the weight had separated their stiff, crowded heads, 

 and gently bent every branch outward, so that every tree had the 

 appearance of a fountain all of foam, and the slight motion the wind 

 gave to their bent and loaded branches assisted the delusion, and 

 made the fountains play. Every tree appeared to have a new cha- 

 racter ; and, in truth, the snow had re-made the world, and for the 

 time it seemed to be quite as new and surprit^ing a spectacle as I 

 might anticipate beholding, if I could be wafted to another planet. 



But the grandest tree, to my thinking, was the Araucaria imbri- 

 cata. There are several fine specimens on the lawn, and they are 

 conspicuous features, in our view, from the drawing-room windows. 

 These were all loaded like the rest, and the weight was evidently 

 considerable. The effect was to bear every branch down in a regular 



