Meteorology. 
393 
arises  partly  from  our  neighbourhood  to  the  sea  on  all  sides, 
partly  to  the  prevalence  of  western  winds  arriving  from  a wide 
ocean.  Hence  comes  our  grazing  husbandry.  Our  equable  dis- 
tribution of  warmth  through  the  year  gives  us  our  peculiar  farm- 
ing, mixed  husbandry,  the  extensive  growth  of  roots  upon  corn- 
land,  producing  meat  largely  as  well  as  bread,  the  maintenance 
of  stock  thus  supporting  the  production  of  corn.  If  our  summers 
were  hotter,  we  could  not  grow  turnips ; if  cooler,  they  would  not 
ripen  wheat.  If  our  winters  were  colder,  turnips  would  perish. 
Our  forefathers,  indeed,  did  not  practise  root-husbandry.  On  the 
eastern  side  of  England  they  took  two  corn-crops  and  a naked 
fallow,  which  is  the  three-course  shift  still  lingering  in  Cleveland, 
and  prevailing  in  Prussia.  This  is  the  corn  side  of  England.  On 
the  west  side,  you  may  still  find  in  secluded  parts  of  Wales,  or  in 
Devonshire,  three  or  four  oat-crops  grown  in  succession,  and  the 
land  left  as  many  years  covered  with  grass.  This  is  the  grassy 
side,  and  though  the  turnip  has  now  overspread  England,  one  side 
of  the  island  is  still  best  suited  for  corn,  the  other  for  herbage. 
This  difference  of  produce  rests  on  a difference  of  climate,  the 
causes  of  which  are  well  understood,  but  are  found  in  very  remote 
parts  of  the  globe.  Heat  and  cold,  long  continued,  accumulate 
in  regions  removed  from  water,  because  the  land  there  becomes 
constantly  hotter  or  colder  whilst  the  influence  of  the  sun  re- 
mains strong  or  weak,  and  the  wind  from  the  sea,  which  varies 
less  in  temperature,  scarcely  reaches  these  inland  tracts  to 
mitigate  the  fierce  extremes.  Hence  the  coldest  part  of  the  old 
world  is  in  the  centre  of  Siberia.  As  you  recede  from  that  point 
westward  you  approach  the  sea,  and  hence  in  winter  our  cold 
comes  with  north-east  winds  from  Siberia,  the  great  deposit  of 
cold.  But  we  have  happily  a distant  yet  effective  source  of 
warmth  also  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  from  which  the  gulf  stream 
washes  our  western  shores.  This  great  warm-water  apparatus  of 
nature  passing  even  beyond  us  stretches  northward  of  the  north  cape 
of  Europe,  and  there,  accordingly,  though  so  near  the  pole,  the 
coldest  wind  of  winter  comes  actually  from  the  south-east.  Hence, 
as  is  shown  in  the  annexed  extract  from  Professor  Dove’s  chart, 
the  line  of  equal  cold  during  December  runs  in  Great  Britain 
due  north  and  south.  Hence,  the  meadows  are  brown  in  Essex, 
while  the  grass  grows  till  Christmas  in  Devonshire.  Englishmen, 
indeed,  do  not  know  the  mildness  of  an  English  winter.  London, 
though  on  the  cold  side  of  England,  is  less  cold  in  January  than 
Paris  or  Milan  ; and  though  they  go  for  warmth  to  the  south  of 
France  or  to  Italy,  deserted  Mayo  and  Connemara,  and  the  shores 
of  Killarney,  covered  with  arbutus,  are  warmer  than  Montpellier, 
or  Genoa,  or  Florence.  Such  is  our  winter  climate.  But  as 
spring  advances  a new  cause  of  warmth  arises.  The  sandy  de- 
serts of  Africa  and  Arabia,  gathering  heat,  begin  to  glow  like  a 
