A Winter-Piece
APIS true, in the delightful seasons, his tenderness and his love are most eminently displayed. In the vernal months, all is beauty to the eye, and music to the ear. The clouds drop fatness; the air softens into balm; and flowers, in rich abundance, spring wherever we tread, bloom wherever we look. Amidst the burning heats of summer, he expands the leaves, and thickens the shades, tie. spreads the coolirig arbor to receive us, and awakes the gentle breeze to fan us; the moss swells into a couch for the repose of our bodies, while the rivulet softly rolls and sweetly murmurs, to soothe our imagination. In autumn, his bounty covers the fields with a profusion of nutrimental treasure, and bends the boughs with loads of delicious fruit; he furnishes his hospitable board with present plenty, and prepares a copious magazine for future wants. But is it only in these smiling periods of the year, that God, the all-gracious God, is seen? Has winter, stern winter, no tokens of his presence? Yes; all things are eloquent of his praise. ‘His way is in the whirlwind.’ Storms and tempests fulfil his word, and extol his power. Even piercing frosts bear witness to his goodness, while they bid the shivering nations tremble at his wrath. Be winter then, for a while, our theme*. Perhaps, those barren scenes may be fruitful of intellectual improvement. Perhaps, that rigorous cold, which bindp the earth in icy chains, may serve to enlarge our hearts, and warm them with holy love.
See! how the day is shortened! The sun, detained in fairer climes, or engaged in more agreeable services, rises, like an unwilling visitant, with tardy and reluctant steps. He walks, with a shy indifference, along the edges of the southern sky; casting an oblique glance, he just looks upon our dejected world, and scarcely scatters light through the thick air. Dim is his appearance, languid are his gleams, while he continues. Or, if he chance to wear a brighter aspect, and a cloudless brow; yet, like the young and gay in the house of mourning, he seems uneasy till he is gone; is in haste to depart. And let him depart. Wny should we wish for his longer stay, since he can show us nothing but the Creation in
* A sketch ot this nature, I must acknowledge, is quite different from the suojeet or trie nook, and I cannot but declare, was as far distant from the thoughts of the autnor. But the desire of several acquaintance, together with an inti (nation of its usefulness, by a very polite letter from an unknown hand, prevailed witu me to aid a few descriptive touches and improving Hints, on what is so often experienced in these northern regions. I hope, the attempt 1 have made to oblige these gentlemen, will obtain the approbation, or at least the excuse, of ray other readers.
distress? The flowery families lie dead, and the tuneful tribes are struck dumb. The trees, stripped of their verdure, and lashed by storms, spread their naked arms to the enraged and relentless heavens. Fragrance no longer floats in the air; but chilling damps hover, or cutting gales blow. Nature, divested of all her beautiful robes, sits, like a forlorn disconsolate widow, in her weeds; while winds in doleful accents howl, and rains in repeated showers, weep.
We regret not, therefore, the speedy departure of the day. When the room is hung with funeral black, and dismal objects are all round, who would desire to have the glimmering taper kept alive; which can only discover spectacles of sorrow, can only make the horror visible? And, since this mortal life is little better than i continual conflict with sin, or an unremitted struggle with misery; is it not a gracious ordination which has reduced our age to a span? Fourscore years of trial for the virtuous are sufficiently long; and more than such a term, allowed to the wicked, would render them beyond all measure vile. Our way to the kingdom of heaven lies through tribulations. Shall we tnen accuse, shall we not rather bless, the Providence, which has made the passage short? Soon, soon we cross the vale of tears, and then arrive on the happy hills, where light for ever shines, where joy for ever smiles.
Sometimes the day is rendered shorter still, is almost blotted out from the year*. The vapors gather, they thicken into an impenetrable gloom, and obscure the face of the sky. At length the rains descend, the sluices of the firmament are opened, and the low-hung clouds pour their con-
* Involvere diem nimbi, et uox huinida caelum Abotulit - Virg.
gregated stores. Copious and unpermitted, itHl they pour, and still are unexhausted. The waters drop incessantly from the eaves, and rush in rapid streams from the spouts. They roar along the channelled pavements, and stand in foul shallows amidst the villagestreets. Now, if the inattentive eye or negligent hand has left the roof but scantily covered, the insinuating element finds its way into every flaw, and, oozing through the ceiling, at once upbraids and chastises the careless inhabitant. The ploughman, soaked to the skin, leaves his halftilled acre. The poor poultry, dripping with wet, crowd into shelter. The tenants of the bough fold up their wings, afraid to launch into the streaming air. The beasts, joyless and dispirited, ruminate under their sheds. The roads swim, and the brooks swell. The river, amidst all this watery ferment, long contained itself within its appointed bounds; but, swollen by innumerable currents, and roused, at last, into uncontrollable rage, bursts over its banks, shoots into the plain, bears down ail opposition, spreads itself far and wide, and buries the meadow under a brown, sluggish, soaking deluge.
How happy for man, that this inundation comes, when there are no flowery crops in the valley to be overwhelmed; no fields standing thick with corn to be laid waste! At such a juncture, it would have been ruin to the husbandman and his family; but, thus timed, it yields manure for his ground, and promises him riches in reversion. How often, and how long, has the Divine Majesty bore with the most injurious affronts from sinners! His goodness triumphed over their perverseness, and graciously refused to be exasperated. But, O presumptuous creatures, multiply no longer your provocations. Urge not, by repeated iniquities, the Almighty arm to strike; lest hislong«sufferings
ceae, and his fierce anger break forth; break forth, iike a flood of waters*, and sweep you away into irrecoverable and everlasting perdition,
How mighty! how majestic! and O! how mysterious, are thy works, thou God of heaven and Lord of nature! When the air is calm, where sleep the stormy winds? In what chambers are they reposed, or in what dungeons confined; till thou art pleased to awaken their rage, and throw open their prison doors? Then, with irresistible impetuosity they fly forth, scattering dread and menacing destruction.
The atmosphere is hurled into the most tumultuous confusion. The aerial torrent bursts its way over mountains, seas, and continents. All things feel the dreadful shock. All things tremble before the furious blast. The forest, vexed and tore, groans under the scourge. Her sturdy sons are strained to the very root, and almost sweep the soil, they wore wont to shade. The stubborn oak, that disdains to bend, is dashed headlong to the ground; and, with shattered arms, with prostrate trunk, block the road; while the flexile reed, that springs up in the marsh, yielding to the gust, (as the meek and pliant temper, to injuries, or the resigned and patient spirit, to misfortunes,) eludes the force of the storm, and survives amidst the wide-spread havock.
For a moment, the turbulent and outrageous sky seems to be assuaged; but it intermits its wrath, only to increase its strength. Soon the sounding squadrons of the air return to the attack, and renew their ravages with redoubled fury. Tb« stately dome rocks amidst the wheeling clouds. The impregnable tower totters on its basis; and threatens to overwhelm, whom it was intended to protect. The ragged rock is rent in pieces t; and
* Hos. v. 10. + 1 Kings, xix. 11. T even the hills, the perpetual hills, on their deep I foundations, are scarcely secure. Where, now, is the place of safety, when the city reels, and houses become heaps? Sleep affrighted flies. Diversion is turned into horror. All is uproar in the element; all is consternation among mortals; and nothing but one wide scene of rueful devastation through the land. Yet, this is only an inferior minister of divine displeasure; the executioner of milder indignation. How then, — O! how will the lofty looks of man be humbled, and the haughtiness of men be bowed down*; when the Lord God Omnipotent shall meditate terror — when he shall set all his terrors in array — when he arises, to judge the nations, and to shake terribly the earth!
The ocean swells with tremendous commotions. The ponderous waves are heaved from their capacious bed, and almost lay bare the unfathomable
Mortalia corda
Per gentes humilisstravit pavor.
One would almost imagine, that Virgil had read Isaiah, and borrowed his ideas from Chap. ii. ver. 11; the humilis and stravit of the one so exactly correspond with the — humbled — bowed down — of the other. But, in one circumstance, the prophet is very much superior to the poet. The prophet, by giving a striking contrast to his sentiments, represents them with incomparably greater energy. He says not, men in the gross, or the human heart in general; but men of the most elated looks; hearts big with the most arrogant imaginations; even these shall stoop from their supercilious heights; even these shall grovel in the dust of abasement, and shudder with all the extremes of an abject pusillanimity.
deep. Flung into the most rapid agitation, they sweep over the rocks; they lash the lofty cliffs; and toss themselves into the clouds. Navies are rent from their anchors; and, with all their enormous load, are whirled, swift as the arrow, wild as the winds, along the vast abyss. Now they climb the rolling mountain; they plough the frightful ridge, and seem to skim the skies. Anon, they plunge into the opening gulf; they lose the sight of day; and are lost themselves to every eye. How vain is the pilot’s art! how impotent the mariner’s strength! They reel to and fro, and stagger in the jarring hold; or cling to the cordage, while bursting seas foam over the deck. Despair is in every face, and death sits threatening on every surge. But why, O ye astonished mariaers, why should you abandon yourselves to despair? Is the Lord’s hand shortened, because the waves of the sea rage horribly? Is his ear deafened by the roaring thunders and the bellowing tempest? Cry, cry unto him, who ’ holdeth the winds in his fist, and the waters in the hollow of his hand.’ He is all gracious to hear, and almighty to save. If he command, the storm shall be hushed to silence; the billows shall subside into a calm; the lightnings shall lay their fiery bolts aside; and, instead of sinking in a watery grave, you shall find yourselves brought to the desired haven.
Sometimes, after a joyless day, a more dismal night succeeds. The lazy, lowering vapours had wove so thick a veil, as the meridian sun could scarcely penetrate. What gloom then must overwhelm the nocturnal hours! The moon withdraws her shining. Not a single star is able to struggle through the deep arrangement of shades. All is pitchy darkness, without one enlivening ray. How solemn! how awful! ‘Tis like the shroud of nature, or the return of chaos. I don’t wonder that it is tho parent of terrors, and so apt to engender melancholy. Lately, the tempest marked its rapid way with mischief; now the night dresses her silent pavilion with horror.
I have sometimes left the beaming tapers, withdrawn from the ruddy fire, and plunged into the thickest of these sooty shades, without regretting the change, rather exulting in it as a welcome deliverance. The very gloom was pleasing, was exhilarating, compared with the conversation I quitted. The speech of my companions (how does it grieve me, that I should even once have occasion to call them by that name!) was the language of darkness; was horror to the soul, and torture to the ear. Their teeth were spears and arrows, and their tongue a sharp sword, to stab and assassinate their neighbours’ character. Their throat was an open sepulchre, gaping to devour the reputation of the innocent, or tainting the air with their virulent and polluted breath. Sometimes, their licentious and ungovernable discourse shot arrows of profaneness against heaven itself; and, in proud defiance, challenged the resentment of Omnipotence. Sometimes, as if it was the glory of human nature to cherish the grossest appetites of the brute, or the mark of a gentleman to have served an apprenticeship in a brothrel; the filthiest jests of the stews (if low obscenity can be a jest) were nauseously obtruded on the company. All the modest part were offended and grieved; while the other besotted creatures laughed aloud, though the leprosy of uncleanness appeared on their lips. Are not these persons prisoners of darkness; though blazing sconces pour artificial day through their rooms? Are not their souls immured in. the most baleful shades; though the noontide sun is brightened, by flaming on their gilded chariots? They discern not that great and adorable Being, who fills the universe with his infinite and glorious presence j who is all eye to observe their actions, all ear to examine their words. They know not the all-sufficient Redeemer, nor the unspeakable blessedness of his heavenly kingdom. They are groping for the prize, of happiness, but will certainly grasp the thorn of anxiety. They are wantonly sporting on the brink of a precipice; and are every moment in danger of falling headlong into irretrievable ruin and endless despair.
They have forced me out, and are, perhaps, deriding me in my absence; are charging my reverence for the ever-present God, and my concern for the dignity of our rational nature, to the account of humour and singularity, to narrowness of thought or sourness of temper. Be it so. I will indulge no indignation against them. If any tiling like it should arise, I will convert it into prayer — ‘Pity them, O thou Father of Mercies! — Show them the madness of their profaneness! Show them the baseness of their vile ribaldry! Let their dissolute rant be turned into silent sorrow and confusion; till they open their lips to adore thine insulted majesty, and to implore thy gracious pardon; till they devote to thy service, those social hours, and those superior faculties, which they are now abusing — to the dishonour of thy name — to the contamination of their own souls — and (unless timely repentance intervene) to their everlasting infamy and perdition.’
I ride home amidst the gloomy void. All darkling and solitary, I can scarce discern my horse’s head; and only guess out my blind road. No companion but danger, or perhaps ’ destruction ready at my side*.’ But why do I fancy myself solitary? Is not the Father of Lights, the God of ray life, the great and everlasting Friend, always
* Job, xviii. 12.
at my right-hand? Because the day is excluded, is his Omnipresence vacated? Though I have no earthly acquaintance near, to assist in case of a misfortune; or to beguile the time, and divert uneasy suspicions, by entertaining conferences; may I not lay my help upon the Almighty, and converse with God by humble supplication? For this exercise, no place is improper, no hour unseasonable, and no posture incommodious. This is society, the best of society, even in solitude. This is a fund of delights, easily portable, and quite inexhaustible. A treasure this, of unknown value; liable to no hazard from wrong or robbery; but perfectly secure to the lonely wanderer in the most darksome paths.
And why should I distress myself with apprehensions of peril? This access to God is not only an indefeasible privilege, but a kind of ambulatory garrison. Those who make known their requests unto God, and rely upon his protecting care, he gives his angels charge over their welfare. His angels are commissioned to escort them in their travelling, and to hold up their goings, that they dash not their foot against a stone*. Nay, he himself condescends to be their guardian, and ’ keeps all their bones, so that not one of them is broken. Between these persons and the most mischievous objects, a treaty of peace is concluded. The articles of this grand alliance are recorded in the book of revelation; and will, when it is for the real benefit of believers, assuredly be made good in the administration of providence. In that day, saith the Lord, will I make a covenant for them with the beasts of the field, and with the fowls of heaven, and with the creeping things of the ground j and they shall be in league with the stones of the field t. Though they fall
* Psal. xci. 11, 12. t Job, v. 23. Ho». ii. 13.
headlong on the flints; even the flints, fitted to fracture the skull, shall receive them as into the arms of friendship; and not offer to hurt whom the Lord is pleased to preserve.
May I then enjoy the presence of this gracious God, and darkness and light shall be both alike. Let him whisper peace to my conscience; and this dread silence shall be more charming than the voice of eloquence, or the strains of music, Let him reveal his ravishing perfections in my soul, and I shall not want the saffron beauties of the morn, the golden glories of noon, or the impurpled evening sky. I shall sigh only for those most desirable and distinguished realms; where the light of his countenance perpetually shines, and consequently there is * no night there.’
How surprising are the alterations of nature! I left her, the preceding evening, plain and unadorned. But now a thick rime has shed its hoary honours over all. It has shagged the fleeces of the sheep, and crisped the traveller’s locks. The hedges are richly fringed, and all the ground is profusely powdered. The downward branches are tasseled with silver, and the upright are feathered with the plumy wave.
The fine are not always the valuable. The air, amidst all these gaudy decorations, is charged with chilling and unwholesome damps. The raw hazy influence spreads wide, sits deep, hangs heavy and oppressive on the springs of life. A listless languor clogs the animal functions, and the purple stream glides but faintly through its channels. In vain, the ruler of the day exerts his beaming powers; in vain, he attempts to disperse this insurrection of vapours. The sullen, malignant cloud refuses to depart. It envelops the world, and intercepts the prospect. I look abroad for the
* Rev. jcxi. 25- neighbouring village; I send my «ye in quest of the rising turret; but am scarce able to discern the very next house. Where are the blue arches of heaven? Where is the radiant countenance of the sun? Where the boundless scenes of Creation? Lost, lost are their beauties, quenched their glories. The thronged theatre of the universe seems an empty void, and all its elegant pictures an undistinguished blank. Thus would it have been with our intellectual views, if the Gospel had not come in to our relief. We should have known, neither our true good, nor real evil. We had been a riddle to ourselves; the present state all confusion, and the future impenetrable darkness. Eut the Sun of Righteousness, arising with potent and triumphant beams, has dissipated the interposing cloud, has opened a prospect more beautiful than the blossoms of spring, more cheering than the treasures of autumn, and far more enlarged than the extent of the visible system; which, naving led the eye of the mind through fields of grace, over rivers of righteousness, and hills crowned with knowledge, terminates at length in the heavens, sweetly losing itself in regions of infinite bliss and endless glory.
As I walk along the fog, it seems, at some little distance, to be almost solid gloom; such as would shut out every glimpse of light, and totally imprison me in obscurity. But when I approach, and enter it, I find myself agreeably mistaken, and the mist much thinner than it appeared. Such is the case with regard to the sufferings of the present life; they are not, when experienced, so dreadful as a timorous imagination surmised. Such also is the case with reference to the gratifications of sense; they prove not, when enjoyed, so substantial, as a sanguine expectation represented. In both instances we are graciously disappointed. The keen edge of the calamity is blunted, that it may not wound us with incurable anguish i the exquisite relish of the prosperity is palled, that it may not captivate our affections, and enslave them to inferior delights.
Sometimes, the face of things wears a more pleasing form; the very reverse of the foregoing. The sober evening advances, to close the short-lived day. The firmament, clear and unsullied, puts on its brightest blue. The stars, in thronging multitudes, and with a peculiar brilliancy, glitter through the fair expanse; while the frost pours its subtle and penetrating influence all around. Sharp and intensely severe, all the long night the rigid aether continues its operations. When, late and slow, the morning opens her pale eye, in what a curious and amusing disguise is nature dressed! The icicles, jagged and uneven, are pendent on the houses. A whitish film in« crusts the windows, where mimic landscapes rise, and fancied figures swell. The fruitful fields are hardened to iron; the moistened meadows a.re congealed to marble; and both resound (an effect unknown before) with the peasant’s hasty tread. The stream is arrested in its career, and its ever-flowing surface chained to the banks. The fluid paths become a solid road; where the finny shoals were wont to rove, the sportive youth slide, or the rattling chariots roll*. And, (what would seem, to an inhabitant of the southern world, as unaccountable as the deepest mysteries of our religion,) that very same breath of heaven, which cements the lakes into a crystal pavement, cleaves the oaks as it ‘were with invisible wedges; * breaks in pieces the northern iron, and the steel;’ even
Undaque jam tergo ferratos sustinet orbes, Puppibus ilia prius patulis,nunc hospita plaustris, jEraque dissiliunt vulgo. Virg.
T2 while it builds a bridge of icy rock over the seas*.
The air is all serenity. Refined by the nitrous particles, it affords the most distinct views and extensive prospects. The seeds of infection are killed, and the pestilence destroyed, even in embryo. So, the cold of affliction tends to mortify our corruptions, and subdue our vicious habits. The crowding atmosphere constringes our bodies, and braces our nerves. The spirits are buoyant, and sally briskly on the execution of their office. In the summer months, such an unclouded sky, and so bright a sun, would have melted us with heat, and softened us into supineness. We should have been ready to throw our limbs under the spreading beech, and to lie at ease by the murmuring brook. But, now, none loiters in his path; none is seen with folded arms. All is in motion; all is activity. Choice, prompted by the weather, supplies the spur of necessity. Thus, the rugged school of misfortune often trains up the mind to a vigorous exertion of its faculties. The bleak climate of adversity often inspirits us with a manly resolution; when a soft and downy affluence, perhaps, would have relaxed all the generous springs of the soul, and have left it enervated with pleasure, or dissolved in indolence.
‘Cold cometh out of the north.’ The winds, having swept those deserts of snow, arm them-
* Job, xxxviii. 30. The waters are hid, locked up from the cattle’s lips, and secured from the fisher’s net, as wells were wont to be closed with a ponderous and impenetrable stone; and not only lake? and rivers, but the surface of the great deep, with its restless and uncontrollable surges, is taken
captive, )*O^JV, by the frost, and bound in shining fetters.
selves with millions of frozen particles, and make a fierce descent upon our isle. Under black and scowling clouds, they drive, dreadfully whizzing, through the darkened air: they growl around our houses, assault our doors, and, eager for entrance, fasten on our windows. Walls can scarce restrain them, bars are unable to exclude them; through every cranny they force their way. Ice is on their wings; they scatter agues through the land; and winter, all winter, rages as they go. Their breath is as a searing* iron to the little verdure left in the plains; vastly more pernicious to the tender plants than the sharpest knife, they kill their branches, and wound the very root. Let not the corn venture to peep too freely from the entrenchment of the furrow; let not the fruit-bearing blossoms dare to come abroad from their lodgement in the bark; lest these murderous blasts intercept and seize the unwary strangers, and destroy the hopes of the advancing year.
0,’tis severely cold! Who is so hardy, as not to shrink at this excessively pinching weather? See! every face is pale: even the blooming cheeks contract a gelid hue; and the teeth hardly forbear chattering. Ye that sit easy and joyous amidst your commodious apartments, solacing yourselves in the diffusive warmth of your fire, be mindful of your brethren in the cheerless tenement of poverty. Their shattered panes are open to the piercing
* This, I suppose, is the meaning of that figurative expression used by the prophet fiabakkuk; who, speaking of the Chaldeans invading Judasa, says, ‘Their faces, or the incursions they make, shall sup up, shall swallow greedily, shall devour utterly, the inhabitants of the country, and their valuable effects; as the keen, corroding blasts of the east wind, destroy every green thing in the field.’ Ilab. i. 9.
winds; a tattered garment scarcely covers their shivering flesh, while a few faint and dying embers on the squalid hearth rather mock their wishes than warm their limbs. While the generous juices of Oporto sparkle in your glasses; or the streams, beautifully tinged and deliciously flavored with fhe Chinese leaf, smoke in the elegant porcelain; O remember, that many of your fellow-creatures, amidst all the rigor of these inclement skies, are emaciated with sickness, benumbed with age, and pining with hunger. Let ’ their loins bless you,’ for comfortable clothing; restore them with medicine; regale them with food; and baffle the raging year. So may you never know any of their distresses, but only by the hearing of the ear, the seeing of the eye, or the feeling of a tender commiseration! Methinks, the bitter blustering winds plead for the poor indigents. May they breathe pity into your breasts, while they blow hardships into their huts! Observe those blue flames and ruddy coals in your chimney: quickened by the cold, they look more lively, and glow more strongly: silent but seasonable admonition to the gay circle that chat and smile around them! Thus may your hearts, at such a juncture of need, kindle into a peculiar benevolence! Detain not your superfluous piles of wood: let them hasten to the relief of the starving family. Bid them expire in many a willing blaze to mitigate the severity of the season, and cheer the bleak abodes of want. So shall they ascend, mingled with thanksgivings to God, and ardent prayers for your welfare — ascend, more grateful to Heaven than columns of the most costly incense.
Now the winds cease. Having brought their load, they are dismissed from service. They have wafted an immense cargo of clouds, which empty themselves in snow. At first, a few scattered shreds come wandering down the saddened sky.
This slight skirmish is succeeded by a general onset. The flakes, large and numerous, and thick wavering, descend. They dim the air, and hasten the approach of night. Through all the night, in softest silence, and with a continual flow, this fleecy shower falls. In the morning, when we awake, what a surprising change appears! Is this the same world? Here is no diversity of colour! I can hardly distinguish the trees from the hills on which they grow. Which are the meadows, and which the plains? Where are the green pastures, and where the fallow lands? All things lie blended in bright confusion; so bright, that it heightens the splendor of day, and even dazzles the organs of sight. The lawn is not so fair as this snowy mantle which invests the fields; and even the lily, was the lily to appear, would look tarnished in its presence. I can think of but one thing, which excels or equals the glittering robe of winter. Is any person desirous to know my meaning? He may find it explained in that admirable hymn*, composed by the royal penitent. Is any desirous to possess this matchless ornament? He will find it offered to his acceptance in every page of the Gospel.
See! (for the eye cannot satisfy itself, without viewing again and again the curious, the delicate scene) see! how the hedges are habited like spotless vestals! The houses are roofed with uniformity and lustre; the meadows are covered with a carpet of the finest ermine t; the groves bow beneath the lovely burden; and all, all below,
* Cau any thing be whiter than snow? Yes, saith David; if God be pleased to wash me from my sins in the blood of Christ, I shall be even whiter than snow. Psal. li. 7. See page 320.
t This animal is milk-white. As for those black spots which we generally see, in linings of ermine, is one wide, immense, shining waste of white. By deep snows, and heavy rains, God sealeth up the hand of every man; and for this purpose, adds our sacred philosopher, that all men may know his work*. He confines them within their doors, and puts a stop to their secular business, that they may consider the things which belong to their spiritual welfare; that, having a vacation from their ordinary employ, they may observe the works of his power, and become acquainted with the mysteries of his grace.
And worthy, worthy of all observation, are the works of the great Creator. They are prodigiously various, and perfectly amazing. How pliant and ductile is nature under his forming hand! At his command, the self-same substance assumes the most different shapes, and is transformed into an endless multiplicity of figures. If he ordains, the water is moulded into hail, and discharged upon the earth like a’volley of shot; or it is consolidated into ice, and defends the rivers, * as it were with a breast-plate.’ At the bare intimation of his will, the very same element is scattered in hoarfrost, like a sprinkling of the most attenuated ashes; or is spread over the surface of the ground, in these couches of swelling and flaky down.
The snow, however it may carry the appearance of cold, affords a warm garment for the corn, screens it from nipping frosts, and cherisheth its infant growth. It will abide for a while, to exert a protecting care, and exercise a fostering influence; then, touched by the sun, or thawed by a softening gale, the furry vesture melts into genial moisture, sinks deep into the soil, and saturates
they are added by the furrier, in order to diversify the appearance, or heighten the beauty, of the native colour. * Job, xxxvii. 7.
its pores with the dissolving nitre; replenishing the glebe with those principles of vegetative life, which will open into the bloom of spring, and ripen into the fruits of autumn. Beautiful emblem this, and comfortable representation of the divine word, both in the successful and advantageous issue of its operation! * As the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater; so shall my word be, that goeth forth out of my mouth; it shall not return unto me void, but shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereunto I sent it*.’
Nature at length puts off her lucid veil. She drops it in a trickling thaw. The loosened snow rolls in sheets from the houses various openings spot the hills; which, even while we look, become larger and more numerous. The trees rid themselves, by degrees, of the hoary incumbrance; shook from the springing boughs, part falls heavy to the ground, part flies abroad in shining atoms. Our fields and gardens, lately buried beneath the drifted heaps, rise plain and distinct to view. Since we see nature once again, has she no verdant traces, no beautiful features left? They are like real friends, very rare; and therefore the more particularly to be regarded, the more highly to be valued. Here and there the holly hangs out her glowing berries; the Laurustinus spreads her graceful tufts; and both, under a covwt of unfading foliage. The plain but hardy ivy clothes the decrepit, crazy wall; nor shrinks from the friendly office, though the skies frown, and the storm roars. The laurel, firm, erect, and bold, expands its leaf of vivid green. In spite of the united,
Isai. Iv. 10, 11.
A WINTER-PIECE.
the repeated attacks of wind, and rain, and frost, it preserves an undismayed lively look, and maintains its post, while withering millions fall around; worthy, by vanquishing the rugged force of win* ter, worthy to adorn the triumphant conqueror’s brow. JSor must I forget the bay tree, which scorns to be a mean pensioner on a rew transient sunny gleams; or, with a servile obsequiousness, to vary its appearance in conformity to the changing seasons: by such indications of sterling worth and staunch resolution, reading a lecture to the poet’s genius, while it weaves the chaplet for his temples. These, and a few other plants, clad with native verdure, retain their comely aspect in the bleakest climes and in the coldest months.
Such, and so durable, are the accomplishments of a refined understanding and an amiable temper. The tawdry ornaments of dress, which catch the unthinking vulgar, soon become insipid and despicable. The rubied lip and the rosy cheek fade* Even the sparkling wit*, as well as the sparkling eye, please but for a moment. But the
* ‘How little does God esteem the things that men count great; the endowments of wit and eloquence, that men admire in some! Alas! how poor are they to him! He respecteth not any who are wise in heart; they are nothing, and less.than nothing, in his eyes. Even wise men admire, how little it is that men know; how small a matter lies under the sound of these popular wonders, a learned man, a great scholar, a great statesman. How much more doth the all-wise God meanly account of these! He often discovers, even to the world, their meanness. He befools them. So valour, or birth, or worldly greatness, these he gives, and gives as things he makes no great reckoning of, to such as shall never see his face; and calls to the inheritance of glory poor despised virtuous mind has charms, which survive the decay of every inferior embellishment; charms, which add to the fragrancy of the flower, the permanency of the evergreen.
Such, likewise, is the happiness of the sincerely religious; like a tree, says the inspired moralist, ’ whose leaf shall not fall.’ He borrows not his peace from external circumstances; but has a fund within, and is ’ satisfied from himself*.’ Even though impoverished by calamitous accidents; he is rich in the possession of grace, and richer in the hope of glory. His joys are infinitely superior to, as well as nobly independent on, the transitory glow of sensual delight, or the capricious favors of what the world calls fortune.
If the snow composes the light-armed troops of the sky, methinks the hail constitutes its heavy artilleryt. When driven by a vehement wind,
creatures, that are looked on as the off-scourings and refuse of the world.’
— — Thus says an excellent author, who writes with the most amiable spirit of benevolence, with the most unaffected air of humility, and, like the sacred originals from which he copies, with a majestic simplicity of style; whose select works I may venture to recommend, not only as a treasure, but as a mine of genuine, sterling, evangelical piety. See page 520, of Archbishop Leighton’s select works, the Edinburgh edition, octavo; which it is necessary to specify, because the London edition does not contain that part of his writings which has supplied me with the preceding quotation.
* Prov. xiv. 14.
i He casteth forth his ice like morsels. Psal. cxlvii. 17: which, in modern language, might be thus expressed; He poureth his hail like a volley of sliou The word Q>ri£) inadequately translated with what dreadful impetuosity does that stony shower fall! How it rebounds from the frozen ground, and rattles on the resounding dome! It attenuates the rivers into smoke, or scourges them into foam. It crushes the infant flowers, cuts in pieces the gardener’s early plants, and batters the feeble fortification of his glasses into shivers. It darts into the traveller’s face; he turns, with haste, from the stroke; or feels, on his cheek, for the gushing blood. If he would retreat into the house, it follows him even thither; and, like a determined enemy, that pushes the pursuit, dashes through the crackling panes. But the fierce attack is quickly over. The clouds have soon spent their shafts, soon unstrung their bow. Happy for the inhabitants of the earth, that a sally so dreadfully furious should be so remarkably short! What else could endure the shock, or escape destruction?
But, behold a bow, of no hostile intention! — a bow, painted in variegated colours, on the disburdened cloud. How vast is the extent, how delicate the texture, of that showery arch! It compasseth the heavens with a glorious circle, and teaches us to forget the horrors of the storm. Elegant its form, and rich its tincture, but more delightful its sacred significancy. While the violet and the rose blush in its beautiful aspect, the olive-branch smiles in its gracious import. It writes, in radiant dyes, what the angels sung in harmonious strains, ‘Peace on earth, and good-will towards men.’ It is the stamp of insurance, for the continuance of seed-time and harvest, for the preservation and security of the visible
morsels, alludes, I think, to those fragments of the rock, or those smooth stones from the brook, which, in the day of battle, the warriors hurled from their slings.
world*; it is the comfortable token t of a better state, and a happier kingdom — a kingdom, where sin shall cease, and misery be abolished; where storms shall beat, and winter pierce no more; but holiness, happiness, and joy, like one unbounded spring, for ever, ever bloom.
* Gen. ix. 12 — 16. t Rev. iv. 3.