V. 



FEBRUARY. 



I AM no lover of cold weather ; and feel more con 

 tented, when the sultry heats of summer oblige me to 

 seek the refreshing 'Sea-breezes, beneath a willow tree 

 on the margin of the sea-shore, than when the cold 

 blasts of winter drive me into the house, to take shelter 

 by the fireside. But there are days in winter, when the 

 wind blows gently from the south-west, which are at 

 tended with pleasurable feelings, seldom experienced in 

 the most delightful summer weather. I have already 

 spoken of the sublimity of a winter prospect, of the 

 charms of a snowy landscape, by sunlight and by moon 

 light, and of other natural beauties, which are produced 

 by frost and ice. It remains to speak of some of those 

 phenomena, which are conspicuous during warm and 

 sunny days in winter, when the weather seems to be 

 that of a different climate. Whether the delightful in 

 fluence of these halcyon days arises from a physical 

 cause, or whether it is the result of contrast with the 

 cold, that has so long kept one imprisoned, I cannot 

 determine. But when I review in memory the rural 

 rambles of former years, my winter walks on these 



