448 FEBRUARY. 



scene, there is but little to divert attention from our 

 thoughts. We can find enough to employ our observa- 

 tion ; but there is less than at other seasons that forces 

 itself upon our attention. We can leave ourselves at 

 any time, to examine a remarkable object or to view a 

 charming scene. 



He must have an eye that is insensible to grandeur 

 and a mind that is incapable of appreciating the sublimity 

 of landscape who would say that Nature is destitute of 

 charms in the month of February. It is true that the 

 variegated surface of brown, and white that characterizes 

 a winter prospect, though it be here and there diversified 

 with a knoll of evergreen-trees that lift their heads as it 

 were in triumph above the snows, will not compare with 

 the interminable verdure of summer or the magnificence 

 of forest scenery in autumn ; yet there is a quiet sublim- 

 ity that pervades all Nature — hill, field, and flood — at 

 this season, which almost reconciles one to the temporary 

 absence of summer flowers and spicy gales. 



I am no lover of cold weather, and feel more contented 

 when the sultry heats of summer oblige me to seek the 

 refreshing breezes beneath a willow-tree on the banks 

 of the sea-shore, than when the cold blasts of winter 

 drive me within doors or force me to mope in a sunny 

 nook in the forest. But there are days in winter, when 

 the wind is still and mild, which are attended with pleas- 

 ant sensations seldom experienced even in the month of 

 June. Whether the delightful influence of this serene 

 weather arises from a physical cause, or whether it is the 

 result of contrast with the cold that has kept us half 

 imprisoned for many weeks, I cannot determine. But 

 when I review the rural rambles of former years, my 

 winter walks on these delightful days will always crowd 

 most sweetly and vividly upon my memory. 



In winter the mind possesses more sensibility to rural 



