124 STUDIES IN THE FIELD AND FOREST. 



in the May of New England ; and not until the month 

 is nearly spent, have the greater part of the forest trees 

 put forth their blossoms. Nature is not yet clothed in 

 the fulness of her beauty ; but in many respects she is 

 lovelier than she ever will be in the future. Her very 

 imperfections are charming, inasmuch as they are the 

 budding of perfection, and afford us the agreeable sen- 

 timent of beauty, united with that of progression. 

 There is a charm in that species of imperfection, which, 

 so far from implying defect, is but the evidence of 

 increasing loveliness, and more interesting than perfec- 

 tion itself, which is necessarily associated with the idea 

 of discontinued progression. 



It is the influence of this sentiment that renders a 

 young girl more lovely and interesting with her unfin- 

 ished graces, than when she has attained the comple- 

 tion of her charms. But by confounding imperfec- 

 tion with defect, we are often led to admire even the 

 foibles of youth, under the vain conceit, that a foible 

 may ripen into a virtue. As the buds only of a plant 

 will produce leaves and flowers, and as the tender 

 spines will never produce any thing but thorns — thus 

 in the youthful character, it is only the unripened and 

 imperfect graces that will ever become virtues, while 

 the foibles, if not pruned off, will surely harden into 

 vices. 



One of the most agreeable pursuits connected with 

 the study of nature, is to watch the progress of vegeta- 

 tion, from the earliest greenness of the landscape, and 

 the first sprouting of the herbs, unfolding of the leaves, 

 and opening of the buds, until every herb, tree, and 

 flower has expanded and brightened into the full radi- 

 ance of summer. While the earth exhibits only a few 

 occasional stripes of verdure, along the borders of the 



