CHAPTEE XXVII. 



Th.e disappearance of the glories of Autumn, and the advent of Winter — Innovations and 

 Innovators — New Version of the Scriptures — The Milkmaid and her Fairy Lover, 

 translated from the Gaelic 



IcHABOD ! tte glory is departed [November 1871]. The gorgeous 



autumnal hues, which were so beautiful when we penned our last, 



have already passed away. In the first fierce breath of winter the 



trees have shed their golden glories, while the few remaining leaves 



that still cUng trembling to branch and bough, shrivelled up and 



blackened at their edges, present only that pallid, corpse-like hue that 



betokens approaching dissolution, making you sad and thoughtful as 



you gaze, and reminding you that everywhere, on all hands, last 



while it may, the end of all life is death. It is a sad lesson for the 



moment, doubtless, but a useful one ; and even at its worst, when 



the thought bears heaviest upon us, the cloud presents its silver 



lining, and a gleam of gladness bursts upon the soul, in the re- 



coUection that as sure as all things are subject to decay and death, 



so sure are decay and death themselves but the vassals of a brighter 



life and more excellent glory. In one of our Scripture Paraphrases 



there is a very beautiful reference to the decay of nature at this 



season, and to the hope that gladdens us amidst all the desolation 



of the scene : — 



' ' All nature dies, and lives again : 

 The flow'r that paints the field, 

 The trees that crown the mountain's brow, 

 And boughs and blossoms jield. 



