Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,
Now green in youth, now with'ring 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.

POPE'S HOMER,

The loss of verdure, together with the shortened days, the diminished warmth, and frequent rains, justifies the title of the gloomy month of November: and it seems to be felt as such by other animals beside

man.

In pensive guise,

Oft let me wander o'er the russet mead,

And through the sadden'd grove, where scarce is heard
One dying strain, to cheer the woodman's toil.
Haply some widow'd songster pours his plaint,
Far, in faint warblings, through the tawny copse,
While congregated thrushes, linnets, larks,

And each wild throat, whose artless strains so late-
Swell'd all the music of the swarming shades,
Robb'd of their tuneful souls, now shiv'ring sit
On the dead tree, a dull despondent flock;
With not a brightness waving o'er their plumes,
And nought save chatt ring discord in their note.

THOMSON.

Intervals, however, of clear and pleasant weather occasionally happen; and in general the autumnal months are, in our island, softer and less variable than the correspondent ones in spring. It long continues.

The pale descending year, yet pleasing still.

In fair weather the mornings are sharp; but the hoar-frost, or thin ice, soon vanishes before the rising sun.

Sudden storms of wind and rain frequently occur, which at once strip the trees of their faded leaves, and reduce them to their state of winter nakedness.

One of the first trees that becomes naked is the walnut, which is quickly succeeded by the mulberry, horse-chestnut, sycamore, lime and ash; the elm retains its verdure for some time longer; the beech and oak are the latest forest trees in casting their leaves: apple and peach-trees often remain green till the latter end of November; and pollard oaks, and young beeches, lose not their withered leaves, till they are pushed off by the new ones of the succeeding spring.

The wood-pigeon, or stock-dove, the latest in its arrival of the winter birds of

passage, makes its appearance about the middle of the month. When pinched by hunger, it will eat the young tops of turnips, but beech mast is its favourite food, and before the old beech woods in the southern parts of the island were so much thinned, the multitudes of stock-doves that annually resorted thither, probably from Sweden and the north of Germany, were almost incredible. They might be seen, like rooks, in long strings of a thousand or more, directing their evening flight to the thick woods, where they were shot in great numbers by the fowlers who awaited their arrival.

Salmon begin now to ascend the rivers in order to spawn; they are extremely active fish, and will force their way almost to the source, of the most rapid streams, overcoming with surprising agility cataracts and other obstacles to their passage. There are several salmon leaps, as they are called, in Wales, Scotland, and Ireland; at which numbers of fish are taken by nets or baskets placed under the fall, into which they are carried after an unsuccessful leap.

The farmer endeavours to finish all his ploughing in the course of this month, and then lays up his instruments till the next spring.

Cattle and horses are taken out of the exhausted pastures, and kept in the yard or stable. Hogs are put up to fatten. Sheep are turned into the turnip-field, or in stormy weather fed with hay at the rick.

Bees require to be moved under shelter, and the pigeons in the dove-house to be fed.