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gallery of Nature’s beauties, are mere memories of flowers, 
the offspring of our Summer friends, who possess our lore, 
rather for the sake of their parents than their own love¬ 
able qualities. But the Blackberry claims much of our 
affection on its own account, were it only for the happy 
scenes of childhood which it can bring back to our mind’s 
eye. I always have loved it— and do yet as dearly as 
ever; and during a ineny day’s rambling last Autumn, was 
fairly immersed in a Blackbeny-dingle j whence my extri¬ 
cation was matter of some hazard and difficulty. There are 
few out-door childish amusements which are not as welcome 
to me now as they ever were, and I think they will retain 
their charm to the end of my earthly pilgrimage; I do not 
like to hear people say, when speaking of countiy strolls 
and scrambles, “ Oh ! I am too old to enjoy such things,”— 
“ it is all very well for children, but quite unbecoming in 
jiersons of my age, &c.” If people would but be ivise 
enough, through life, to derive enjopnent from such inno¬ 
cent pleasines as delighted them in childhood, we should 
find far few’er sour tempers, cold hearts, and narrow minds 
in the world. All, except positive idiots, are endowed by 
God with a portion of that beautiful poetry of existence 
which in childhood is so conspicuously evident, teaching 
even the infant in the nurse’s arms to snatch at flow^ers, and 
laugh in the sunshine. But as men and women grow up, the 
capability of deriving pleasure from such sources is gradually 
destroyed instead of developed; inherent love of all created 
things is changed to selfishness and cruelty; admiration to 
