DEVOTED TO AQKICUIiTUKE, HORTICULTUKE, AWD KTNDKED ARTS. 



NEW SERIES. Boston, November, 1867. VOL. L— NO. 11. 



R. P. EATON & CO., Publishers, 

 Office, 34 Merchants' Kow. 



MONTHLY. 



SIMON BROWN, i 

 S. FLETCHER, < 



Editors. 



NOVEMBER ASPECTS. 



The earth mourneth and languisheth ; Lebanon is 

 ashamed and withereth away ; Sharon is like a wilder- 

 ress; and Bashan and Carmel shake off their fruit — 

 Isaiah 33 : 9. 



ATUKE in her -winter garb 

 is well drawn by the in- 

 spired prophet in the above 

 passage. He was in the habit of 

 alluding to the varying aspects of 

 nature for the purpose of increasing 

 the force of his terrible maledictions 

 against the people whose sins he 

 was rebuking. 



Last month we briefly adverted to the some- 

 what popular opinion that the autumn months 

 are more unfriendly to kind and genial feel- 

 ings than those of any other portion of the 

 year. But November is not all high winds 

 and cloudy skies. It has many pleasures, if 

 we will lift up our matter-of-fact eyes, and 

 find that there are matters-of-fact we seldom 

 dream of. The fine days that come in the In- 

 dian summer, the new animal life about us, 

 the flight of birds on their annual migration 

 from north to south, and the delightful re- 

 union of kindred and friends which has become 

 so common at our Thanksgiving festival. 



Mr. Beecher says, "we often hear people 

 say, 'Oh, the dreary days of November !' 

 The days of November are never dreary — 

 though men sometimes are. There are sug- 

 gestions in it that lead us to serious thoughts. 

 We are apt, at that season of the year to feel 



that life is passing. After the days begin to 

 grow short in summer, I cannot help sighing 

 often ; and as they still grow shorter and 

 shorter, I look upon things, not with pain, 

 but with a sad and melancholy eye. And 

 when autumn comes, and the leaves of the 

 trees drop down through the air and find their 

 resting places, I cannot help thinking that life 

 is short, that our work is almost ended, and 

 that we are nearing the tomb. It makes me 

 sad ; but there is a sadness that is wholesome, 

 and even pleasurable. There are sorrows 

 that are not painful, but that are of the nature 

 of some acids, and give piquancy and flavor 

 to life ; and such are the sorrows which No- 

 vember brings. That month which sees all 

 the year disrobed, is not a dreary month. I 

 like to see the trees go bed as much as little 

 children, and I think there is nothing prettier 

 in the world than to see a mother disrobe her 

 child, and prepare its couch, and sing and talk 

 to it, and finally lay it to rest. I like to see 

 birds get ready for their repose at night. 

 Did you ever sit at twilight and hear them talk 

 of domestic matters, and go over, apparently, 

 with each other, the troubles and joys of the 

 day ? There is an immense deal to learn 

 from birds, if a person has an ear to hear. 

 And so I like to see the year wound up. I 

 like to see the trees with their clothes taken 

 off. I like to see the hard lines of a tree. I 

 like to see its anatomy. I like to see the 

 preparation that God makes for winter. How 



