NEW ENGLAND WINTER. 153 



half-dozen when they bow themselves un- 

 der masses of new-fallen snow, making 

 no account of such exceptional pageants, 

 which, indeed, are often so destructive as 

 to lose much of their glory in the eyes of 

 provident spectators, I, for my own part, 

 find a beauty in the very commonest of 

 winter landscapes. Let the ground be al- 

 together white, or altogether brown, or let 

 it be covered so thinly that the grass-blades 

 show dark above the snow ; in any case, 

 white or brown, or white and brown, to 

 me it is all beautiful ; beautiful in itself, 

 and also by contrast with the greenness 

 before and after ; while, as for the trees, I 

 like them so well in their state of undress 

 that I question sometimes whether their 

 leafy garments do not conceal more love- 

 liness than they confer. We are grateful, 

 of course, to pines and spruces ; but what 

 if all trees were evergreen ? A questionable 

 improvement, surely. No ; suggestive and 

 solemn as the falling of the leaves must ever 

 be to us who read our own destiny in the 

 annual parable, it would be sadder still if 

 there were no such alternation, no diversity, 

 but only one monotonous year on year of 

 changeless verdure. 



