But, notwithstanding the rigors of the clime, there are not wanting, even at the commencement of the season, interesting proofs of the advancing year, and harbingers of a more genial season. The day has already encroached on the long and dreary night, and the sun takes daily a wider circuit in the heavens. The buds of many trees and flowers have begun to swell; the catkins of the hazel and willow throw their tiny but elegant forms on the sight. The anemonies are in flower in our gardens; and the crocus, -The first gilt thing That wears the trembling pearls of spring, spreads its cloth of gold on the sheltered borders, along with the hepatica and the white butter-bur; and most interesting of all, the snowdrop, which had for weeks burst through the rigid soil, has now opened its chaste and delicate blossoms to the chilly breeze, and seems to vie in whiteness with the winding-sheet of winter, from which it derives its name. "Already now the snowdrop dares appear, The first pale blossom of the unripened year; Its name and hue the scentless plant retains, Among the feathered tribes, the rooks are stirring, and their incessant notes of enjoyment, mingled with the bustle of preparing for the important duties of incubation, every where attract the attention of the lovers of Nature. The croaking raven, led by a congenial instinct, selects some venerable tree where she may build her nest, and the sweet songs of the woodlark and chaffinch, mixed with the mellow tones of the blackbird and thrush, from the neighboring groves, delight the ear; while the wren, the * Mrs. Barbauld.-[It will be borne in mind that the above account is of the English spring, which opens much earlier than ours in New England, though it corresponds more nearly with the spring of our Middle States. Our readers must introduce their own wildflowers into the scene, to make it American; and omit the rook, which is not one of our birds, unfortunately, for he is a very sociable and agreeable fellow.-AM. ED.] II. 2 VIII. 66 redbreast, the titmouse, and the hedge-sparrow, flutter from spray to spray, and utter their varied notes of gladness, as the sun sheds his warmer rays on wood and field, giving the promise of approaching mildness and fertility. Turkey cocks now strut and gobble; partridges begin to pair; the house-pigeon has young; field-crickets open their holes, and wood-owls hoot; gnats play about, and insects swarm under sunny hedges; the stone-curlew clamors, and frogs croak."* These indications are observed in Britain during the month of February; and, as spring advances, more unequivocal symptoms of awakening Nature daily appear. The sun continues longer above the horizon, and the weather, though still unsettled, is sufficiently dry to evaporate the superabundant moisture, poured on the earth at the commencement of the season in the form of rain or snow, and thus to favor the various processes of vegetable life which are in active operation, while it prepares the soil for the labors of the husbandman. The animal tribes now find a delicious repast in the sweet and tender herbage, which begins to clothe our sheltered valleys with its soft verdure; and, among the innumerable sources of enjoyment which this most interesting of all the seasons affords, perhaps there is none which sheds so sweet a pleasure over the benevolent mind, as the universal gladness which, as the weather becomes more genial, sensibly pervades every thing that lives. There is a kind of mysterious sympathy which seems to pass from tribe to tribe of the animated world, and to unite them all, in one common hymn of gratitude and praise to the bountiful Giver of all good. The lowing of the cattle as they luxuriate in the green fields; the bleating of the sheep from the hills, while their new-dropt lambs sport around them, exulting in the consciousness of young existence; the hum of the industrious bees, as they fly from flower to flower collecting their sweet food; and the varied notes of love and joy, pouring from bush and brake, all unite in one harmonious and spirit-stirring * Howitt's Book of the Seasons. chorus. Nay, inanimate Nature itself seems conscious of the general joy,-and as the sun breaks forth from the April shower, every blade of grass sparkles in his beams, wood and mead smile, and the very silence of the clear heavens and swelling earth utters the voice of enjoyment. [Some idea of the great variety of spring weather, to be found within the territorial limits of the United States, may be formed from the following pleasant extract, which we take from a March number of the New York Knickerbocker Magazine.-Aм. ED. We found at our desk, on one of the cold mornings of the past month, two letters, that afford a forcible example of the striking contrasts in climate and scenery, which this country presents. The first was from a correspondent in Maine, who, for the sake of adventure, had joined a band of backwoods' loggers, in one of their 'professional' excursions into an untracked wilderness, for the purpose of felling timber. Nothing can be more wintry than his picture of the solemn forests of pine and hemlock, their branches bending with snow, which the wild wind ever and anon dislodges, in masses, to descend ‘like a great white sheet, let down from heaven;' the gleaming tent-fires, lighting up the silent arcades of the woods; the cold aurora-borealis, "That trembles in the northern sky, And glares on midnight's startled eye,' shimmering uncertainly high up the zenith; the tramp of deer in herds, the while, with the short quick bark of the fox, and the long howl of the wolf, ringing in their ears. Look on that picture, and then on this, drawn by the hand of a favorite contributor to these pages, now sojourning at Jacksonville, Florida: Our spring has commenced; and while you are pitching Lehigh or black Newport into the glowing grate, I am listening to the notes of the mocking-bird, watching the flowers unfold, or marking the course of flocks of paroquets, that whiz by, like winged creatures carved from rainbows. Every thing here is different from the North; man, soil, clime, and sky; wind, flower, herb, and tree. Here you see . the raw material of manhood; the semi-barbarian, regardless of personal right, and the restraints of law; there a son of southern chivalry, hospitable, generous, and brave. The sunshine is pleasant; the live oaks, streaming with moss, are venerable; and winter reigns divested of terror; instead of frosty crown and icy sceptre, wearing a wreath of orange blossoms, and wielding in his effeminate hand a wand of sugar-cane.'"] The gradual progress of Spring indicates beneficent design. There is an obvious and studied preparation conducive to the salubrity both of animal and vegetable life. Were the change from winter to spring to be sudden, the constitution of organized existences, such as we find it in our own latitude, would receive so violent an impulse, as would be attended with many injurious consequences. There is here, therefore, a wise adaptation; but the proper way of viewing it is, not so much to consider the climate adapted to these existences, as them to the climate. There are necessarily great varieties of climates from the Equator to the Arctic circle, and, in them all, we discover a most admirable fitting of the produce and living inhabitants to the conditions of their respective localities; insomuch, that changes, which would utterly destroy the plants and animals of one climate, only tend to give vitality and health to those of another. For example, we have stated that fatal effects would ensue in our own climate, were the alteration from winter to spring to be sudden; and yet nothing can easily be conceived more rapid than the change of temperature from intense cold to genial warmth, in Siberia and other regions verging on the polar circle; and there the conditions of the animal and vegetable world are such, that the violent impulse is just what was required to bring them hastily into life, and enable them quickly to fulfil their various functions, during their few and fleeting weeks of summer. In the whole economy of Nature, there is scarcely any thing more worthy of remark, as indicating a Designing Cause, than this species of adaptation, by which the powers of life are suited to the varying conditions of climate. There is, indeed, something ex INCREASING TEMPERATURE OF THE WEATHER. 17 tremely satisfactory, as well as peculiar, not only in this respect, but in the whole plan of creation, exhibiting as it does so much uniformity, combined with such variety,a uniformity as to general design, which might even be supposed to indicate poverty of invention, were it not for the amazing skill with which that general design is modified and altered, so as to be rendered suitable to change of circumstances and conditions, the former, by its strict analogy, marking unequivocally One contriving Mind, the latter, by its endless variety, displaying the all-pervading wisdom and beneficence of unwearying energy and never-exhausted resources. FIRST WEEK-TUESDAY. THE INCREASING TEMPERATURE OF THE WEATHER, AND ITS EFFECTS. WHEN we observe the earth gradually exchanging its winter robes for a mantle of the liveliest green, the flowers springing up in fresh luxuriance at our feet, and every shrub and tree putting forth its buds, which are soon to be beautifully expanded into blossoms and leaves, our first feelings are those of wonder and delight at the marvellous change produced in the general aspect of Nature ; and we then naturally seek to contemplate the causes of such a universal transition. By what agency, we ask, does the vegetable world suddenly start from apparent death into all the beauty and exuberance of another spring? What second cause, under the direction of the Great Ruler of the year, works the magnificent effect? The means by which this sudden burst of vegetation is produced, are, like most of the other great agencies of Nature, extremely simple. It is merely the increased temperature of the earth and atmosphere, assisting the natural tendency of the plants to awake from the lethargic state into which they are thrown during winter. The progress of the earth in its orbit towards its aphelion, or |