a variety of colours and of tints that would scarcely be considered as natural in a picture, any more than 
many of the sunsets of September would. Among those trees which retain their green hues, the hr tribe 
are the principal; and these, spiring up among the deciduous ones, now differ from them no less in color 
than they do in form. The alders, too, and the poplars, limes, and horse-chestnuts, are still green, — the 
hues of their leaves not undergoing much change as long as they remain on the branches. Most of the 
other forest trees have put on each its peculiar livery; the planes and sycamores presenting every variety of 
tinge, from bright yellow to brilliant red ; the elms being, for the most part, of a rich sunny umber, varying 
according to the age of the tree and the circumstances of its soil, &c.; the beeches having deepened into a 
warm glowing brown, which the young ones will retain all the winter, and till the new spring leaves push 
the present ones off : the oaks varying from a dull dusky green to a deep russet, according to their ages ; 
and the Spanish chestnuts, with their noble embowering heads, glowing like clouds of gold. — As for the 
hedge rows, though they have lost nearly all their flowers, the various fruits that are spread out upon them 
for the winter food of the birds, make them little less gay than they were in spring and summer. The most 
conspicuous of these are the red hips of the wild rose; the dark purple bunches of the luxuriant blackberry; 
the brilliant scarlet and green berries of the nightshade; the wintry-looking fruit of the hawthorn; the blue 
sloes, covered with their soft tempting-looking bloom; the dull bunches of the woodbine; and the sparkling 
holly-berries. We may also still, by seeking for them, find a few flowers scattered about beneath the hedge- 
rows, and the dry banks that skirt the woods, and even in the woods themselves, peeping up meekly from 
among the crowds of newly fallen leaves. The prettiest of these is the primrose, which now blows a second 
time. But two or three of the persicaria tribe are still in flower, and also some of the goosefoots. And 
even the elegant and fragile heathbell, or hare-bell, has not yet quite disappeared; while some of the ground 
flowers that have passed away have left in their place strange evidences of their late presence; in particular, 
the singular flower (if it can be called one) of the arums, or lords and ladies, has changed into an upright 
bunch, or long cluster, of red berries, starting up from out the ground on a single stiff stem, and looking 
almost like the flower of a hyacinth. The open fields during this month, though they are bereaved of much 
of their actual beauty and variety, present sights that are as agreeable to the eye, and even more stirring 
to the imagination, than those which have passed away. The husbandman is now ploughing up the arable 
land, and putting into it the seeds that are to produce the next year’s crops; and there are not, among rural 
occupations, two more pleasant to look upon than these : the latter, in particular, is one that while it gives 
perfect satisfaction to the eye as a mere picture, awakens and fills the imagination with the prospective 
views which it opens. It is not till this month that we usually experience the equinoxial gales, those fatal 
visitations which may now be looked upon as the immediate heralds of the coming on of winter; as in the 
spring they were the sure signs of its having passed away. Bitter-sweet, is it, now, to lie awake at night, 
and listen wilfully (as if we would not let them escape us) to the fierce howlings of the winds, each accession 
of which gives new vividness to the vision of some tall ship, illumined by every flash of lightning — illumined, 
but not rendered visible — for there are no eyes within a hundred leagues to look upon it; and crowded with 
human beings, every one of which sees, in imagination, his own grave a thousand fathom deep beneath the 
dark waters that roar around ! 
It is as combining the decline of the day with that of the year , the period both of beauty and decay, 
that an Evening in Autumn becomes so generally the parent of ideas of a solemn and pathetic cast. Not 
only, as in the first of these instances, do we blend the sun-set of physical with that of moral being, but a 
further source of similitude is unavoidably suggested in the failure and decrepitude of the dying year, a pic- 
ture faithfully, and in some points of view, mournfully emblematic of the closing hours of human life. 
With the daily retirement of the sun, and the gradual approach of twilight, though circumstances, as 
we have seen, often associated in our minds with the transitory tenure of our mortal existence, there are 
usually connected so many objects of beauty and repose as to render such a scene in a high degree soothing 
and consolatory; but with the customary decline of light are now united the sighing of the coming storm, 
the edying of the withered foliage; 
for now the leaf 
Incessant rustles from the mournful grove ; 
Oft startling such as, studious, walk: below, 
And slowly circles through the waving air. 
But, should a quicker breeze amid the boughs 
Sob, o’er the sky the leafy deluge streams; 
Till choak’d, and matted with the dreary shower, 
The forest-walks, at every rising gale, 
Roll wide the wither’d waste, and whistle bleak. 
These are occurrences which so strongly appeal to our feelings, which so forcibly remind us of the 
mutability of our species, and bring before us, with such impressive solemnity, the earth as opening to 
receive us, that they have, from the earliest period of society, and in every stage of it, been considered as 
typical of the brevity and destiny of man. 
Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, 
Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; 
Another race the following spring supplies; 
They fall successive, and successive rise; 
So generations in their course decay; 
So flourish these, when those are pass’d away; 
