NATURALIST’S AUTUMNAL WALK- 
85 
yet appears, and \ye note it from its loneliness. Spread- 
ing on the light foliage of the fern, dry and mature, the 
spider has fixed her toils, and motionless in the midst 
watches her expected prey, every thread and mesh 
beaded with dew, trembling with the zephyr’s breath. 
Then falls the “ sere and yellow leaf,” parting from its 
spray without a breeze tinkling in the boughs, and 
rustling scarce audibly along, rests at our feet, and tells 
us that we part too. All these are distinctive symbols 
of the season, marked in the silence and sobriety of 
the hour ; and form, perhaps, a deeper impression on 
the mind, than any afforded by the verdant promises, 
! the vivacities of spring, or the gay, profuse luxuriance 
of summer. 
Such notes as these, such passing observations, are 
1 perhaps little fitted for, or deserving of, arrangement, 
yet, in a woodland autumnal ramble, we are naturally, 
almost irresistibly, led to contemplate that beautiful 
and varied race of vegetation included under the name 
of fungi, so particularly fostered by this season, and 
which so greatly delight to spring up in sylvan moisture 
and decay: nor is there perhaps any country better 
constituted for the production of the whole of this family 
than England is, particularly that portion of them de- 
nominated agarics. The various natures of our soil and 
pastures, the profusion of our woods and copses, the 
humidity of our climate, united with the general warmth 
of our autumn, accelerating rapid decay, and putres- 
cence of vegetable matter, all combine to give existence 
to this race. No county is, I believe, more favored for 
the production of most of the kinds than Monmouth, 
with its deep dark woods, and alpine downs. A resi- 
dence in that portion of the kingdom for some years 
introduced to my notice a larger portion of this singu- 
lar race than every botanist is acquainted with. A sports- 
man then, but I fear I shall be called a recreant brother 
of the craft, when I own having more than once let my 
woodcock escape, to secure and bear away some of these 
fair but perishable children of the groves. Travellers 
tell us of the splendor of this race in the jungles of 
Madagascar, but nothing surely can exceed the beauty 
H 
