ALEXANDER WILSON. 
37 
tiful flowers have flourished and faded under your 
eye ! and how often has the whole profusion of 
blossoms, the hopes of a whole year, been blasted 
by an untimely frost ! He has gone only a little 
before us — we must soon follow ; but while the 
feelings of nature cannot be repressed, it is our duty 
to bow with humble resignation to the decision of 
the Father of all, rather receiving with gratitude 
the blessings he is pleased to bestow, than repining 
at the loss of those he thinks proper to take from 
us. But allow me, my dear friend, to withdraw 
your thoughts from so melancholy a subject, since 
the best way to avoid the force of any overpower- 
ing passion is to turn its direction in another way. 
“ That lovely season is now approaching, when 
the garden, woods, and fields, will again display 
their foliage and flowers. Every day we may ex- 
pect strangers, flocking from the south to fill our 
woods with harmony. The pencil of Nature is now 
at work, and outlines, tints, and gradations of lights 
and shades, that baffle all description, will soon be 
spread before us by that great Master, our most 
benevolent Friend and Father. Let us cheerfully 
participate in the feast ho is preparing for all our 
senses. Let us survey those millions of green 
strangers, just peeping into day, as so many happy 
messengers come to proclaim the power and muni- 
ficence of the Creator. I confess that I was always 
an enthusiast in my admiration of the rural scenery 
of Nature ; but, since your example and encourage- 
ment have set me to attempt to imitate her produo- 
