THE CANADIAN NATURALIST. 



the splendour has vanished; the crystal pageant has re- 

 turned to its old sober appearance, and is now nothing more 

 than a brown leafless tree. What a figure of youthful hopes 

 and prospects ! when we first enter into life how buoyant 

 are our feelings, how flattering our expectations ! everything 

 promises enjoyment : life seems to be but another word for 

 joy : every object appears clothed with crystal, and tinged 

 with the colour of the rose. But years pass on, 



" Time, the churl, he beckons, 

 And we must away, away !" 



the rush of years shivers the crystal tree ; years of toil, 

 struggles for the means of existence, blighted hopes, inter- 

 course with a cold world, destroy the illusion, and rob life 

 of its poetry and romance. 



" There was a time, when meadow, grove, and stream, 



The earth, and every common sight, 

 To me did seem 



Apparell'd in celestial light, 

 The glory and the freshness of a dream. 

 It is not now as it hath been of yore ; 



Turn wheresoe'er I may, 



By night or day, 

 The things which I have seen, I now can see no more." 



Yet to a well-constituted mind, a mind whose peace is 

 made with God, this life is not without many unalloyed 

 pleasures : though the freshness of early days is passed away, 

 other joys, of a more sober character, it is true, are still of- 

 fered to our grasp. Among these, not the least is the power 

 of seeing God in his works, " the habit of wishing to discover 

 the good and the beautiful in all that meet and surround 

 us ;" even in the minutest and humblest objects of creation. 

 This taste I have long cultivated in myself, and I would 

 wish to awaken it in you, that you may still have sources of 



