have their appropriate period of defoliation, seemingly independent of external causes. The lime (tilia 
europeea) commonly loses it leaves before any frost happens ; the ash seems, on the contrary, to wait for 
that event; and at whatever period the first rather sharp frost takes place, all its leaves fall at once. The 
fall of the leaf can be considered only as a “sloughing or casting off diseased or worn-out parts,” whether 
the injury to their constitution may arise from external causes or from an exhaustion of their vital powers. 
Hence a separation takes place, either in the foot-stalks, or more usually at its base, and the dying part 
quits the vigorous one, which is promoted by the weight of the leaf itself, or by the action of autumnal 
winds upon its expanded form. Sometimes, as in the horn beam, the beech, and some oaks, the swelling 
of the buds for the ensuing season is necessary to accomplish the total separation of the old stalks from the 
insertion. 
How fall’n the glories of these fading scenes ! 
The dusky beech resigns his vernal greens ; 
The yellow maple mourns in sickly hue, 
And russet woodlands crown the dark’ning view. 
Dim, clust’ring fogs involve the country round ; 
The valley, and the blended mountain ground, 
Sink in confusion : but with tempest wing, 
Should Boreas from his northern barrier spring, 
The rushing woods with deaf ning clamour roar, 
Like the sea tumbling on the pebbly shore : 
When spouting rains descend in torrent tides, 
See the torn zig-zag weep its channelled sides. White. 
Leaves undergo very considerable changes before they fall ; ceasing to grow for a very long time pre- 
vious to their decay, they become gradually more rigid and less juicy, often parting with their pubescence, 
and always changing their healthy green colour to more or less of a yellow, sometimes a reddish hue. “One 
of the first trees that becomes naked is the walnut ; the mulberry, horse-chesnut, sycamore, lime, and ash, 
follow. The elm preserves its verdure for some time longer; the beech and ash are the latest deciduous 
forest trees in dropping their leaves. All lopped trees, while their heads are young, carry their leaves a 
long while. Apple-trees and peaches remain green very late, often till the end of November : young 
beeches never cast their leaves till spring, when the new leaves sprout, and push them off; in the autumn, 
the beechen leaves turn of a yellow deep chestnut colour. 
The effect of a “whirl blast,” or sudden gust of wind, accompanied with hail (not unfrequent at this 
season,) on the falling leaves, is thus prettily and naturally delineated by the poet of the mountains: — 
But see ! where’er the hailstones drop, 
The withered leaves all skip and hop ; 
There’s not a breeze — no breath of air — 
Yet here, and there, and every where, 
Along the floor, beneath the shade, 
By those embowering hollies made, 
The leaves in myriads jump and spring, 
As if with pipes and music rare 
Some Robin Goodfellow were there, 
And all those leaves in festive glee 
Were dancing to the minstrelsy. 
Wordsworth. 
A tree has ever been considered as an emblem of life; and in this view, this pleasing object in nature, 
which we meet with in every direction, is replete with instruction. The contemplative mind regards it with 
peculiar interest, and derives from it no inconsiderable improvement. The elegant ‘Gilpin 5 has availed 
himself of this striking resemblance in the following beautiful reflections: — 
“As I sat carelessly at my window (he observes,) and cast my eyes upon a large acacia which grew 
before me, I conceived that it might aptly represent a country divided into provinces, towns, and families. 
The large branches might hold out the first — the smaller branches connected with them, the second — and 
those combinations of collateral leaves which specify the acacia might represent families composed of indi- ' 
viduals. It was now late in the year, and the autumnal tints had taken possession of great part of the tree. 
As I sat looking at it, many of the yellow leaves (which having been produced earlier, decayed sooner) 
were continually dropping into the lap of their great mother. Here was an emblem of natural decay — the 
most obvious appearance of mortality. 
As I continued looking, a gentle breeze rustled among the leaves. Many fell, which in a natural course 
might have enjoyed life longer. Here malady was added to decay. 
The blast increased, and every branch which presented itself bowed before it. A shower of leaves 
covered the ground. The cup of retribution, said I, is poured out upon the people. Pestilence shakes the 
land. Nature sickens in the gale; they fall by multitudes. Whole families are cut off together. 
Among the branches was one entirely withered. The leaves were shrivelled, yet clinging to it. Here 
was an emblem of famine. The nutriment of life was stopped. Existence was just supported, but every 
form was emaciated. 
In the neighbourhood stretched a branch not only shrivelled and withered, but having been more 
exposed to winds, it was almost entirely stripped of its leaves. Here and there hung a solitary leaf just j 
enough to show that the whole had lately been alive. Ah ! said I, here is a emblem of depopulation. Some j 
violent cause hath laid waste the land. Towns and villages, as well as families, are desolated; scarcely ten 
are left alive to bemoan thousands. 
How does every thing around us bring its lesson to our minds! Nature is the great book of God. In 
every page is instruction to those who will read. Mortality must claim its due. Death in various shapes 
hovers round us, — Thus far went the heathen moralist. He had learned no other knowledge from these 
perishing forms of nature, but that men, like trees, are subject to death . 55 
