ample draperies on the floor, whilst the wind and the rain are raging audibly without, and seem to call at the doors and windows, As heav'n and earth they would together mell; Yet the least entrance find they none at all; Whence sweeter grows our rest secure in massy hall. 66 All these are items in the description of a winter evening, which must surely be familiar to every body born in a high latitude. And it is evident that most of these delicacies, like ice-cream, require a very low temperature of the atmosphere to produce them: they are fruits which cannot be ripened without weather stormy or inclement in some way or other. I am not "particular," as people say, whether it be snow, or black frost, or wind so strong that (as Mr. says) you may lean your back against it like a post." I can put up even with rain, provided it rains cats and dogs: but something of the sort I must have. A Canadian winter for me, or a Russian one, where every man is but a co-proprietor with the north wind in the fee-simple of his own ears. Indeed, so great an epicure am I in this matter, that I cannot relish a winter-night fully, if it be much past St. Thomas's Day, and have exhibited any tendency to vernal appearances: no, it must be divided by a thick wall of dark nights from all return of light and sunshine. From the latter weeks of October to Christmas Eve, therefore, is the period during which happiness is in season, which, in my judgment, enters the room with the teatray.' 6тн. So! this is TWELFTH-DAY: and many a merry little face I will have shining beneath my roof to-night. For 'I love (not less than a certain lively writer) to see an acre of cake spread out-the sweet frost covering the rich earth below-studded all over with glittering flowers, like ice-plants, and red and green knots of sweetmeat, and hollow yellowcrusted crowns, and kings and queens, and their paraphernalia. I delight to see a score of happy children, sitting huddled all round the dainty fare, eyeing the cake and each other, with faces sunny enough to thaw the white snow. I like to see the gazing silence which is kept so religiously while the large knife goes its round; and the glistening eyes which feed before-hand upon the huge slices, dark with citron and plums, and heavy as gold. And then, when the "characters" are drawn, is it nothing to watch the peeping delight which escapes from their little eyes? One is proud, as king; another stately, as queen; then there are two whispering grotesque secrets which they cannot contain, (these are Sir Gregory Goose and Sir Tunbelly Clumsy.) The boys laugh out at their own misfortunes, but the little girls (almost ashamed of their prizes) sit blushing and silent. It is not until the lady of the house goes round, that some of the more extravagant fictions are revealed. And then, what a roar of mirth!-Ha! ha!-The ceiling shakes, and the air is torn. They bound from their seats, like kids, and insist on seeing Miss Thompson's "character." Ah! what merry spite is proclaimed, what ostentatious pity! The little girl is almost in tears; but the large Jump of allotted cake is placed seasonably in her hand, and the glass of sweet wine all round" drowns the shrill urchin laughter, and a gentler delight prevails!' 66 8TH. Winter to-day may be again most truly said ' to rear his giant form, "His robe a mist, his voice a storm. Until at length his angrier tones subsiding, "Through the hushed air the whitening shower descends, Fall broad, and wide, and fast, dimming the day The links of thought, which form what we call association of ideas, are often imperceptible. I am gazing down from my window upon a' dull street, the most important objects in which are the passing vehicles fast covering with a robe of snow, and the hastening foot-traveller, bending his head forwards as he goes, that his features may receive as little as possible of the thickening shower;-and what in such a scene can recal to my recollection the sublimities of that fine winter-piece of Coleridge, the "Hymn before Sun-rise in the Valley of Chamouny?" Ye ice-falls, ye, that from the mountain's brow Torrents, methinks that heard a mighty voice, Who made you glorious, as the gates of heaven Utter forth GOD, and fill the hills with praise! 15TH. CORONATION (IN 1559) OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. Of whom thus quaintly, though * The flowers of the Gentiana Major, which grows profusely within a few paces of the glaciers in sublime Switzerland. H forcibly, wrote the author of the "Worthies of Devon." If ever royal virtues crowned a crown, If ever courage dwelt with courtesy, For temperance, prowess, prudence, equity, Spain's rod, Rome's ruin, Netherlands' relief, 20TH. A day for ever to be consecrated to the memory of HOWARD!-for it was on this day, anno 1790, that, falling a martyr to his glorious pursuits, he quitted every earthly scene of sorrow. It is not possible to describe the philanthrophic labours of this truly great man, in language more appropriate than that of Burke. 'He visited all Europe, not to survey the sumptuousness of palaces, or the stateliness of temples; not to make accurate measurements of the remains of ancient grandeur, nor to form a scale of the curiosities of modern art; not to collect medals, or collate manuscripts;-but to dive into the depths of dungeons; to plunge into the infection of hospitals; to survey the mansions of sorrow and pain; to take the gage and dimensions of misery, depression, and contempt; to remember the forgotten, to attend Fol. 1701. p. 332. |