THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 LIBRARY 
 
 PRESENTED BY THE 
 WILLIAM A. WHITAKER 
 FOUNDATION 
 

 i 
 
THE 
 
 (Talntfcar of Mature: 
 
 DESIGNED FOR THE 
 
 INSTRUCTION and ENTERTAINMENT 
 
 OF 
 
 YOUNG PERSONS. 
 
 Delightful task ! to watch with curious eyes 
 Soft forms of Thought in infant bosoms rise, 
 Plant with nice hand Reflection’s tender root, 
 And teach the young Ideas how to shoot! 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE PROPRIETOR, 
 
 By J. Johnson, Brook Street, Holborn ; 
 
 AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS, 
 
 1822 . ' 
 

 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2018 with funding from 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 https://archive.org/details/calendarofnatureOOaiki 
 
TO 
 
 MRS. AND MISS SHUGBURGH, 
 
 PREPARATORY SEMINARY, 
 
 PUTNEY} 
 
 THE CALENDAR OF NATURE, 
 
 IN TOKEN OF GRATEFUL ESTEEM, 
 
 FOR THE ATTENTION SHOWN 
 TO 
 
 THE JUVENILE BRANCHES OF MY FAMILY, 
 ENTRUSTED TO THEIR CARE, 
 
 IS 
 
 -MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, 
 
 BY THEIR VERY OBLIGED, 
 
 THOMAS GOSDEN. 
 
 Jan. 1822. 
 
 i * '“V S > 
 
 (C i O 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
THE 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 JANUARY. 
 
 Stern Winter’s icy breath, intensely keen, 
 
 Now chills the blood, and withers every green; 
 
 Bright shines the azure sky, serenely fair, 
 
 Or driving snows obscure the turbid air. 
 
 Civilized nations in general now agree to begin 
 reckoning- the new year from the first of January. 
 Yet it may seem strange to call that a new season, 
 when every thing is most inactive and lifeless- 
 when animals are benumbed by the cold, and 
 vegetables are all dead or withered. For this 
 reason, some have thought it best to beg-in the year 
 in Spring, when the face of Nature is really renewed. 
 But as this happens at different times in different 
 years and climates, it has at length been determined 
 to date the commencement of the year as at present, 
 within a few days after the Winter-solstice , or shortest 
 day. This always takes place on the twenty-first 
 of December, and from that time the days are 
 gradually lengthened, till the middle of Summer; 
 
 B 
 
o 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 so that the year may properly he said to be now 
 turned, 
 
 January is the coldest month in this part of the 
 world} and in England we seldom have much frost 
 or snow before it. The weather is commonly either 
 clear dry frost, or fog and snow, with rain now and 
 then intermixed. 
 
 Nothing- can be more wonderful than the effects 
 of frost. To see the running stream stopped in 
 its course j the lake, that was curled by every 
 breeze, converted into a firm plain* the moist 
 ground dried up and made as htw'd as rock} and 
 all this done by an invisible power in the space of 
 a single night} would be infinitely surprising to 
 one unaccustomed to the sight. These effects are 
 painted in a very lively manner by Thomson, in 
 his Seasons — 
 
 An icy gale, oft shifting, o’er the pool 
 Breathes a blue film, and in its mid career 
 Arrests the bickering stream. 
 
 Loud rings the frozen earth, and hard reflects 
 A double noise; while at his evening watch. 
 
 The village dog deters the nightly thief; 
 
 The heifer lows; the distant water-fall 
 Swells in the breeze; and with the hasty tread 
 Of traveller, the hollow-sounding plain 
 Shakes from afar. 
 
 It freezes on, 
 
 Till morn, late rising o’er the drooping world. 
 
 Lifts her pale eye unjoyous. Then appears 
 The various labour of the silent night: 
 
JANUARY. 
 
 3 
 
 Prone from the dripping eave, and dumb cascade, 
 
 Whose idle torrents only seem to roar. 
 
 The pendant icicle; the frost-work fair. 
 
 Where transient hues and fancy’d figures rise; 
 
 Wide spouted o’er the hill, the frozen brook, 
 
 A livid tract, cold-gleaming on the morn. 
 
 Water, when frozen, is expanded; that is, takes 
 up more room than before 3 hence ice is lighter 
 than water, and swims upon it. From this cause, 
 if a bottle full of water, hard corked, be set to 
 freeze, the bottle will be broken, for want of room 
 for the expansion of the water. Water-pipes often 
 burst from the same cause3 and hoops fly off from 
 barrels. Nay, even a gun-barrel or a cannon, filled 
 with water, and screwed up at the muzzle, have 
 been burst in an intense frost. 
 
 The same property produces a very beneficial 
 effect to the husbandman 3 for the hard clods of 
 the ploughed fields are loosened and broken to 
 pieces by the swelling of the water within them, 
 when frozen. Hence the earth is crumbled, and 
 prepared for receiving the seed in Spring. 
 
 Snow is the water of clouds frozen. On a close 
 examination it is found to be all composed of icy 
 darts or stars. Its whiteness is owing to the small 
 particles into which it is divided. Ice when pounded 
 becomes equally white. , Snow is very useful by 
 covering the plants, and protecting' them from the 
 severity of the frost 3 for at a certain depth under 
 the snow, the cold always continues the same. It is 
 
4 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 also thought to enrich the ground, and serve as a 
 sort of manure; hut some suppose it not at all 
 different from rain in this respect. The beauty of a 
 country all cloathed in a new-fallen snow is very 
 striking-— 
 
 The cherish’d fields 
 
 Put on their Winter-robe of purest white. 
 
 ’Tis brightness all; save where the new snow melts 
 Along the mazy current. Low, the woods 
 Bow their hoar head; and ere the languid sun, 
 
 Faint from the west, emits his evening ray. 
 
 Earth’s universal face, deep hid, and chill, 
 
 Is one wild dazzling waste, that buries wide 
 The works of man. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Hail-stones are drops of rain suddenly cong-ealed 
 into a hard mass, so as to preserve their figure. 
 These often fall in warmer seasons of the year, as 
 even .then the upper reg-ions of the atmosphere are 
 very cold. 
 
 Hoar-frost is dew, or mist frozen. It adheres to 
 every object on which it falls, and produces fig-ures 
 of incomparable beauty and elegance. Every twig- 
 and blade of grass is beset by it with innumerable 
 glittering- pearly drops, or silvery plumage, beyond 
 the skill of any artist to imitate. 
 
 Sometimes it happens that a sudden shower of 
 rain falls during a frost, and immediately turns to 
 ice. A remarkable scene is then produced, which 
 the following lines most beautifully describe— 
 
JANUARY. 
 
 Ere yet the clouds let fall the treasur’d snow, 
 
 Or winds begun thro’ hazy skies to blow. 
 
 At ev’ning a keen eastern breeze arose. 
 
 And the descending rain unsullied froze. 
 
 Soon as the silent shades of night withdrew, 
 
 The ruddy morn disclos’d at once to view 
 The face of Nature in a rich disguise, 
 
 And brighten’d every object to my eyes: 
 
 For every shrub, and every blade of grass. 
 
 And every pointed thorn seem’d wrought in glass; 
 
 In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show. 
 
 While thro’ the ice the crimson berries glow. 
 
 The thick-sprung reeds the wat’ry marshes yield, 
 
 Seem polish’d lances in a hostile field. 
 
 The stag, in limpid currents, with surprize, 
 
 Sees crystal branches on his forehead rise. 
 
 The spreading oak, the beech, and tow’ring pine 
 Glaz’d over, in the freezing ether shine. 
 
 The frighted birds the rattling branches shun, 
 
 That wave and glitter in the distant sun. 
 
 When, if a sudden gust of wind arise. 
 
 The brittle forest into atoms flies : 
 
 The cracking wood beneath the tempest bends, 
 
 And in a Spangled show’r the prospect ends. 
 
 Philips, Lett.from Copenhagen. 
 
 In such a case, prodigious mischief has been done 
 in the woods, by the breaking- down of vast arms of 
 trees, which tvere overloaded by the weight of the 
 ice encrusting- them. 
 
 The inclemency of the season is shewn by its 
 effects on animals, particularly on the numerous 
 tribes of birds. As the cold advances, they collect 
 in flocks, quit their retreats, and, rendered bold by 
 want, approach the habitations of man. Larks and 
 various other small birds shelter themselves in the 
 
6 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 warm stubble. Sparrows, yellow-hammers, and 
 chaffinches, crowd into the farm-yards, and attend 
 the barn-doors, to pick their scanty fare from the 
 chaff and straw. The red-hreast ventures into the 
 house, 
 
 --and pays to trusted man 
 
 His annual visit. 
 
 Fieldfares and thrushes in large flocks descend 
 from the tops of trees, and frequent the warm manured 
 fields in the neighbourhood of towns. Snipes, wood¬ 
 cocks, wild-ducks, and other water-fowl are forced 
 from the frozen marshes, and obliged to seek their 
 food about the rapid currents of streams which are 
 yet unfrozen. As the cold grows more intense, 
 various kinds of sea-fowl quit the bleak open shores, 
 and come up the rivers, where they offer an unusual 
 prey to the fowler. 
 
 The wild quadrupeds, too, are driven from their 
 accustomed remote haunts. Hares enter the gardens 
 to hrowze on the cultivated vegetables; and, leaving 
 their tracks in the snow, are frequently hunted down, 
 or caught in snares. The hen-roosts are pillaged 
 by foxes, polecats, and other small beasts of prey 
 which our country breeds; hut we are happily un¬ 
 acquainted with the ravenous troop of wolves, hears, 
 and other fierce creatures, which, urged by famine 
 at this season, often terrify the villages in the moun¬ 
 tainous and woody regions on the continent. 
 
JANUARY. 
 
 7 
 
 The domestic cattle now require all the care and 
 protection of the farmer. Sheep are often lost in 
 the sudden storms by which the snow is drifted in 
 the hollows, so as to bury them a great depth 
 beneath it. Yet they have been known to survive 
 many days in this situation. Cows with much ado 
 scratch up a few mouthfuls of grass* but for their 
 chief subsistence they must depend upon the hay 
 and other provisions of the farm-yard. Early lambs 
 and calves are kept within doors, and tended with 
 as much care as the farmers own children. 
 
 Now, shepherds, to your helpless charge be kind, 
 
 Baffle the raging year, and fill their pens 
 With food at will; lodge them below the storm, 
 
 And watch them strict; for from the bellowing east, 
 
 In this dire season, oft the whirlwind’s wing 
 Sweeps up the burthen of whole wintry plains 
 At one wide waft, and o’er the hapless flocks, 
 
 Hid in the hollow of two neighbouring hills, 
 
 The billowy tempest whelms; ’till upward urg’d. 
 
 The valley to a shining mountain swells, 
 
 Tipt with a wreath high-curling in the sky. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 The plants at this season are provided by Nature 
 with a kind of Winter-quarters, which secure them 
 from the effects of cold. Those called herbaceous , 
 which die down to the root every Autumn, are now 
 safely concealed under ground, preparing their new 
 shoots to burst forth when the darth is softened by 
 Spring. Shrubs and trees, which are exposed to 
 the open air, have all their soft and tender parts 
 closely wrapt up in buds, which by their firmness 
 
8 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 resist all the force of frost. If one of these buds be 
 carefully opened, it is found to consist of young- 
 leaves rolled together, within which are even all the 
 blossoms in miniature, which are afterwards to 
 adorn the Spring. Some of these are much forwarder 
 than others. The leaves of the woodbine appear 
 just ready to expand by the end of the month 5 the 
 flowers of the mezereon and snowdrop seem on the 
 point of blowing; and the catkin, or male flower- 
 bunch of the hazel begins to unfold. 
 
 During the severity of the frost, little work can 
 be done out of doors by the husbandman. As soon 
 as it sets in, he takes the opportunity of the hardness 
 of the ground to draw manure to his fields. He 
 lops and cuts timber, and mends thorn hedges. 
 When the roads become smooth from the frozen 
 snow, he takes his team, and carries hay and corn 
 to market, or brings coals for himself and neighbours. 
 The barn resounds with the flail, by the use of which 
 the labourer is enabled to defy the cold weather. 
 
 In towns, the poor are pinched for fewel and food, 
 and charity is peculiarly called for at this comfort¬ 
 less time of the year. Many trades are at a stand 
 during the severity of the frost. Rivers and canals 
 being frozen up, watermen und bargemen are with¬ 
 out employment. The harbours in this island, how¬ 
 ever, are never locked up by the ice, as they are 
 for many months in the northern parts of Europe. 
 
JANUARY. 
 
 9 
 
 The amusements of sliding-, skating, and other 
 pastimes on the ice, give life to this dreary season \ 
 but our frosts are not continued and steady enough 
 to afford us such a share of these diversions as some 
 other nations enjoy— 
 
 Where the Rhine 
 
 Branch’d out in many a long canal extends, 
 
 From every province swarming, void of care, 
 
 Batavia rushes forth ; and as they sweep, 
 
 On sounding skates, a thousand different ways, 
 
 In circling poise, swift as the winds, along 
 The then guy land is maddened all to joy. 
 
 Nor less the northern courts, wide o’er the snow, 
 Pour a new pomp. Eager, on rapid sleds, 
 
 Their vigorous youth in bold contention wheel 
 The long-resounding course. Mean-time, to raise 
 The manly strife, with highly blooming charms, 
 Flush’d by the season, Scandinavia’s dames, 
 
 Or Russia’s buxom daughters glow around. 
 
 Thomson’. 
 
10 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 FEBRUARY. 
 
 Now shifting gales with milder influence blow. 
 
 Cloud o’er the skies, and melt the falling snow ; 
 
 The soften’d earth with fertile moisture teems, 
 
 And, freed from icy bonds, down rush the swelling streams. 
 
 The earlier part of this month may still be reckoned 
 Winter; though the cold generally begins to abate. 
 The days are now sensibly lengthened; and the sun 
 has power enough gradually to melt away the snow 
 and ice. Sometimes a sudden thaw comes on, with 
 a south wind and rain, which all at once dissolves 
 the snow. Torrents of water then descend from the 
 hills; every little brook and rill is swelled to a large 
 stream; and the ice is swept away with great vio¬ 
 lence from the rivers— 
 
 Muttering, the winds at eve, with blunted point. 
 
 Blow hollow blustering from the south. Subdued, 
 
 The frost resolves into a trickling thaw. 
 
 Spotted the mountains shine, loose sleet descends. 
 
 And floods the country round. The rivers swell. 
 
 Of bonds impatient. Sudden from the hills, 
 
 O’er rocks and woods, in broad brown cataracts, 
 
 A thousand snow-fed torrents shoot at once; 
 
 And, where they rush, the wide resounding plain 
 Is left one slimy waste. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 The frost, however, returns for a time; then fresh 
 snow falls, often in great quantities; and thus the 
 
FEBRUARY. 11 
 
 weather alternately changes during’ most part of this 
 month. 
 
 Various sig-ns of returning- Spring- occur at 
 different times in February. The woodlark, one of 
 the earliest and sweetest songsters, often begins 
 his note at the very entrance of the month. Not 
 long- after rooks begin to pair, and g-eese to lay. 
 The thrush and chaffinch then add to the early music 
 of the groves. Near the close of the month par¬ 
 tridges begin to couple, and repair the ravages com- 
 mited on this devoted species during the Autumn 
 and Winter. 
 
 Moles go to work in throwing- up their hillocks 
 as soon as the earth is softened. Under some of the 
 largest, a little below the surface of the earth, they 
 make their nests of moss, in which four or five 
 young are found at a time. These animals live on 
 worms, insects, and the roots of plants. They do 
 much mischief in gardens, by loosening and devour¬ 
 ing flower roots; but in the fields they seem to do 
 no other damage, than rendering the surface of the 
 ground unequal by their hillocks, which obstruct 
 the scythe in mowing. They are said also to pierce 
 the sides of dams and canals, and let out the water. 
 
 Many plants emerge from under ground in 
 February, but few- flowers as yet adorn the fields or 
 gardens. Snowdrops generally are fully opened 
 from the beginning of the month, often peeping out 
 from the midst of the snow'— 
 
12 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 Already now the snowdrop dares appear, 
 
 The first pale blossom of tli* unripen’d year; 
 
 As Flora’s breath by some transforming power, 
 
 Had chang’d an icicle into a flower. 
 
 Its name and hue the scentless plant retains. 
 
 And Winter lingers in its icy veins. 
 
 Mns. Barbauld. 
 
 The elder-tree discloses its flower-buds. The 
 catkins of the hazel become very conspicuous in the 
 the hedges. Young leaves are budding on the goose¬ 
 berries and currants about the end of the month. 
 
 The farmer is impatient to begin his work in the 
 fields as soon as the ground is sufficiently thawed. 
 He plows up his fallows ; sows beans and peas, rye, 
 and spring wheat; sets early potatoes; drains his 
 wet land; dresses and repairs hedges, lops trees, 
 and plants those kinds which love a wet soil, as 
 poplars and willows. 
 
.-MARCH. 
 
 13 
 
 MARCH. 
 
 Winter still ling’ring on the verge of Spring, 
 
 Retires reluctant, and from time to time 
 Looks back, while at his keen and chilling breath, 
 
 Fair Flora sickens. 
 
 The great operations of Nature during- this month, 
 seem to be, to dry up the superabundant moisture of 
 February, thereby preventing the roots and seeds 
 from rotting in the earth; and gradually to bring 
 forward the process of evolution in the swelling 
 buds, whilst, at the same time, by the wholesome 
 severity of chilling blasts, they are kept from a pre¬ 
 mature disclosure, which would expose their tender 
 contents to injury from the yet unsettled season. 
 This effect is beautifully touched upon in a simile of 
 Shakspeare’s— 
 
 And like the tyrannous breathings of the north, 
 Checks all our buds from blowing. 
 
 This seeming tyranny, however, is to be regarded as 
 the most useful discipline ; and those years generally 
 prove most fruitful, in which the pleasing appear¬ 
 ances of Spring are the latest. 
 
 The sun has now acquired so much power, that on 
 a clear day we often feel all the genial influence of 
 Spring, though the naked shrubs and trees still g'ite 
 
14 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 the landscape the comfortless appearance of Winter. 
 But soft pleasant weather in March is seldom of long- 
 duration— 
 
 As yet the trembling year is unconfirm’d, 
 
 And Winter oft at eve resumes the breeze. 
 
 Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets 
 Deform the day delightless. 
 
 As soon as a few dry days have made the land fit 
 for working, the farmer goes to the plough; and if 
 the fair weather continues, proceeds to sowing oats 
 and barley, though this business is seldom finished 
 till the next month. The importance of a dry sea¬ 
 son for getting the seed early and favourably into 
 the ground, is expressed in the old proverb, 
 
 A bushel of March dust is worth a King’s ransom. 
 
 The mellow note of the thrush, who sings perched 
 on the naked hough of some lofty tree, is heard from 
 the beginning of the month: at the same time, the 
 rino-dove cooes in the woods. The rookery is now 
 all in motion with the pleasing labour of building 
 and repairing nests; and highly amusing it is to 
 observe the tricks and artifices of the thievish tribe, 
 some to defend, and others to plunder, the materials 
 of their new habitations. These birds are accused 
 of doing much injury to the farmer by plucking up 
 the young corn, and other springing vegetables; 
 but some think this mischief fully repaid by their 
 diligence in picking up the grubs of various insects, 
 which, if suffered to grow to maturity, would occa- 
 
MARCH. 
 
 15 
 
 sion much greater damage. For this purpose, they 
 are frequently seen following the plough, or settling 
 in flocks on newly-turned up lands. 
 
 Some birds, which took refuge in our temperate 
 climate from the rigour of the northern Winters, now 
 begin to leave us, and return to the countries where 
 they were bred. The red-wing, thrush, fieldfare, 
 and woodcock, are of this kind; and they retire to 
 spend their summer in Norway, Sweden, and other 
 parts of the north. 
 
 The gannets, or soland geese, resort during this 
 month to those Scotch isles, where they breed in 
 such numbers, as to cover almost the whole surface 
 of the ground with their eggs and young. 
 
 Frogs, which during Winter lay in a torpid state 
 at the bottom of ponds or ditches, are enlivened by 
 the warmth of Spring, and early in this month rise 
 to the surface of the water in vast numbers. They 
 are at first very timorous, and dive to the bottom 
 with great quickness as one approaches; but in the 
 coupling season they become bolder, and make them¬ 
 selves heard to a great distance by their croaking. 
 
 Those most elegant fish, smelts or sparlings, begin 
 to run up the rivers in this month in order to spawn. 
 They are of so tender a nature, that the least mix¬ 
 ture of snow-water in the river drives them back to 
 the sea. 
 
16 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 But nothing- in the animal creation is a more 
 pleasing- spectacle, than the sporting- of the young- 
 lambs, most of which are yeaned this month, and are 
 trusted abroad when the weather is tolerably mild. 
 Dyer, in his poem of the Fleece , g-ives a very natural 
 and beautiful description of this circumstance— 
 
 Spread around thy tend’rest diligence 
 In flow’ry spring-time, when the new-dropt lamb, 
 Tott’ring witli weakness by his mother’s side. 
 
 Feels the fresh world about him; and each thorn, 
 Hillock, or furrow, trips his feeble feet; 
 
 O guard his meek sweet innocence from all 
 Th’ innumerous ills, that rush around his life; 
 
 Mark the quick kite, with beak and talons prone. 
 Circling the skies to snatch him from the plain ; 
 
 Observe the lurking crows ; beware the brake. 
 
 There the sly fox the careless minute waits; 
 
 Nor trust thy neighbour’s dog, nor earth, nor sky : 
 
 Thy bosom to a thousand cares divide. 
 
 Eurus oft slings his hail; the tardy fields 
 Pay not their promis’d food; and oft the dam 
 O’er her weak twins with empty udder mourns, 
 
 Or fails to guard, when the bold bird of prey 
 Alights, and hops in many turns around. 
 
 And tires her also turning: to her aid 
 Be nimble, and the weakest, in thine arms. 
 
 Gently convey to the warm cote, and oft, 
 
 Between the lark’s note and the nightingale’s, 
 
 His hungry bleeting still with tepid milk; 
 
 In this soft office may thy-children join, 
 
 And charitable habits learn in sport: 
 
 Nor yield him to himself, ere vernal airs 
 Sprinkle thy little croft with daisy flowers. 
 
 Another most agreeable token of the arrival of 
 Spring, is that the bees begin to venture out of their 
 
MARCH. ' 17 
 
 hives about the middle of this month. As their food 
 is the honey-like juice found in the tubes of flowers, 
 their coming 1 abroad is a certain sig-n that flowers 
 are now to he met with. No creature seems pos¬ 
 sessed of a greater power of foreseeing- the weather; 
 so that their appearance in the morning, may he 
 reckoned a sure token of a fair day. 
 
 The gardens are now rendered gay by the cro¬ 
 cuses, which adorn the borders with a rich mixture 
 of the brightest yellow and purple. The little 
 shrubs of mezereon are in their beauty. The fields 
 look green with the springing grass, hut few wild 
 flow'ers as yet appear to decorate the ground. 
 Daisies, however, begin to he sprinkled over the dry 
 pastures; and the moist hanks of ditches are enlivened 
 with the glossy star-like yellow flow'ers of pilewort. 
 Towards the end of the month, primroses peep out 
 beneath the hedges; and the most delightfully fra¬ 
 grant of all flowers, the violet, discovers itself by 
 the perfume it imparts to the surrounding air, before 
 the eye has perceived it in its low ly bed. Shakspeare 
 compares an exquisitely sweet strain of music, to the 
 delicious scent of this flower. 
 
 O ! it came o’er iny ear, like the sweet south. 
 
 That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
 
 Stealing and giving odour. 
 
 There are several kinds of violets, hut the fra¬ 
 grant (both blue and white) is the earliest, thence 
 
 c 
 
18 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 called the March violet. To these flowers Shakspeake 
 adds the daffodil, 
 
 Which comes before the swallow dares, and takes 
 
 The winds of March with beauty. 
 
 Besides the hazel, the fallow now enlivens the 
 hedges with its catkins full of yellow dust, and the 
 alder-trees are covered with a kind of black bunches, 
 which are the male and female flowers. The leaves 
 of honeysuckles are nearly expanded. In the gar¬ 
 dens, the peach and nectarine, the almond, the 
 cherry and apricot-trees, come into full hud during 
 this month. The gardeners find plenty of employ¬ 
 ment in pruning trees, digging and manuring beds, 
 and sowing a great variety of seeds, both for the 
 flower and kitchen garden. 
 
 In the latter part of this month the equinox happens, 
 when day and night are of equal length all over the 
 globe: or rather, when the sun is an equal time 
 above, and below, the horizon. For the morning 
 and evening twilight make apparent day considera¬ 
 bly longer than night. This takes place again in 
 September. The first is called the vernal , the latter, 
 the autumnal equinox. At these times storms and 
 tempests are particularly frequent, whence they have 
 always been the terror of mariners. March winds 
 are boisterous and vehement to a proverb. 
 
APRIL. 
 
 19 
 
 APRIL. 
 
 Now daisies pied, and violets blue. 
 
 And lady-smocks all silver white. 
 
 And cuckow-buds of yellow hue. 
 
 Do paint the meadows with delight; 
 
 The cuckovv now on every tree 
 Sings cuckoo—cuckoo. 
 
 April weather is become a proverbial expression 
 for a mixture of the bright and gloomy. The plea¬ 
 santness of its sunshiny days, with the delightful 
 view of fresh greens and newly-opened flowers, is 
 unequalled; but they are frequently overcast with 
 clouds, and chilled with rough wintry blasts— 
 
 Her face was like an April morn. 
 
 Clad in a wintry cloud ; 
 
 says the beautiful balled of Margaret's Ghost. 
 
 This month gives the most perfect image of Spring; 
 for its vicissitudes of warm gleams of sunshine, and 
 gentle showers, have the most powerful effects in has¬ 
 tening that universal springing of the vegetable 
 tribes, from whence the season generally derives its 
 appellation. 
 
 April generally begins with raw unpleasant wea¬ 
 ther, the influence of the equinoctial storms still in 
 
20 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 some degree prevailing-. Its opening- is thus 
 described in a poem of Mr. Wabton’s :— 
 
 Mindful of disaster past, 
 
 And shrinking at the northern blast. 
 
 The sleety storm returning still, 
 
 The morning hoar, the evening chill; 
 
 Reluctant comes the timid Spring. 
 
 Scarce a bee, with airy ring, 
 
 Murmurs the blossom’d boughs around 
 That clothe the garden’s southern bound: 
 
 Scarce a sickly straggling flower 
 Decks the rough castle’s rifted tower: 
 
 Scarce the hardy primrose peeps 
 From the dark dell’s entangled steeps. 
 
 Fringing the forest’s devious edge 
 Half rob’d appears the hawthorn hedge; 
 
 Or to the distant eye displays 
 Weakly green its budding sprays. 
 
 Early in the month, that welcome g-uest and har- 
 bing-er of Summer, the swallow, returns. The kind 
 first seen, is the chimney or house swallow, known 
 by its long- forked tail, and red breast: At first, 
 here and there only one appears, g-lancing quick by 
 us, as if scarcely able to endure the cold. 
 
 The swallow, for a moment seen. 
 
 Skims in haste the village green. 
 
 But in a few days, their number is much increased, 
 and they sport with seeming- pleasure in the warm 
 sunshine. 
 
APRIL. 
 
 21 
 
 And see, my Delia, see o’er yonder stream. 
 
 Where on the sunny bank the lambkins play, 
 
 Alike attracted to th* enlivening gleam, 
 
 Tljie stranger swallows take their wonted way. 
 
 Jago. 
 
 As these birds live on insects, their appearance is 
 a certain proof that some of this minute tribe of 
 animals are now got abroad from theirWinter retreats. 
 
 The birds are now busied in pairing, and building 
 their nests. As their singing 1 is the voice of court- 
 ship and conjugal love, the concerts of the groves 
 begin to fill with all their various melody. The 
 nightingale, that most accomplished and enchanting 
 of songsters, is heard soon after the arrival of the 
 swallow. He sings by day as well as by night; but 
 in the day time, his voice is drowned in the multi¬ 
 tude of performers; in the evening it is heard 
 alone; whence the poets have always made the song 
 of the nightingale a nocturnal serenade— 
 
 Sweet bird, that shunn’st the noise of folly. 
 
 Most musical, most melancholy ! 
 
 The chauntress, oft, the woods among 
 I woo to hear thy even-song. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 Another of the most striking events of this month, 
 is the renewal of the cuckow’s note, which is g-ene- 
 rally heard about the middle of April. This is so 
 remarkable a circumstance, that it has commanded 
 attention in all countries; and several rustic sayings, 
 
22 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 and the names of several plants which flower at this 
 time, are derived from it— 
 
 Hail beauteous stranger of the wood, 
 
 Attendant on the Spring! 
 
 Now heaven repairs thy rural seat. 
 
 And woods thy welcome sing. 
 
 Soon as the daisy decks the green, 
 
 Thy certain voice we hear: 
 
 Hast thou a star to guide thy path, 
 
 Or mark the rolling year ? 
 
 Delightful visitant! with thee 
 I hail the time of flowers, 
 
 When heaven is fill’d with music sweet 
 Of birds among the bowers. 
 
 The school-boy wand’ring in the wood 
 To pull the flowers so gay, 
 
 Starts, thy curious voice to hear. 
 
 And imitates thy lay. 
 
 Logan. 
 
 The cuckow’s arrival is regularly preceded some 
 days by that of the wryneck, a small bird, singular 
 in its attitudes and plumage, and living upon insects 
 which harbour in the bark of trees, which it extracts 
 by means of its long tongue, furnished with a sharp 
 bony tip. The wryneck also has a peculiar note or 
 cry, easily distinguished by those who have once 
 heard it. 
 
 Other birds which are seen amongst us only in 
 the warmer months, as the redstart, whitethroat, and 
 yellow wagtail, appear in April. 
 
APRIL. 
 
 23 
 
 The fishes are now inspired by the same enlivening 
 influence which acts upon the rest of animated nature; 
 and in consequence, again offer themselves as a prey 
 to the arts of the angler, who returns to his usual 
 haunt— 
 
 Beneath a willow, long forsook. 
 
 The fisher seeks his custom’d nook; 
 
 And bursting thro’ the crackling sedge 
 That crowns the current’s cavern’d edge. 
 
 He startles from the bordering wood 
 The bashful wild-duck’s early brood. 
 
 Warton. 
 
 A considerable number of plants flower in this 
 month; in particular the fruit-bearing trees and 
 shrubs, the flowers of which are peculiarly termed 
 blossoms. These form a most agreeable spectacle, as 
 well on account of their beauty, as of the promise 
 they give of future benefits— 
 
 Hope waits upon the flowery prime. 
 
 It is, however, an anxious time for the possessor, 
 as the fairest prospect of a plentiful increase is so 
 often blighted. Shakspeare draws a pathetic com¬ 
 parison from this circumstance, to paint the delusive 
 nature of human expectations— 
 
 This is the state of man; to day he puts forth 
 The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms. 
 
 And bears his blushing honours thick upon him, 
 
 The third day comes a frost, a killing frost. 
 
 And Milton beautifully uses the same simile*. 
 
24 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 Abortive as the first-born bloom of Spring, 
 
 Nipp’d with the lagging rear of Winter’s frost. 
 
 The apricots and peaches lead the way in blossom¬ 
 ing-, and are followed by the cherry and plum. The 
 black-thorn or sloe (which is a species of plum) also 
 enlivens the hedo-es with its flowers in this month. 
 Those of the lowlier plants which now most strike 
 the eye, are the primrose and wood-sorrel under 
 hedges; the wood anemone in dry woods and 
 thickets 3 the wood crowfoot and marsh-maryg-old in 
 wet marshy places ; and the lady-smock, or cuckow- 
 flower (as some call it) in meadows. 
 
 The farmer is still busied in sewing- different sorts 
 of grain, and seeds for fodder 5 for which purpose 
 dry weather is yet suitable ; though plentiful showers 
 at due intervals are desirable for feeding- the young- 
 grass and springing- corn. 
 
MAY. 
 
 25 
 
 MAY. 
 
 For thee, sweet month, the groves green liv’ries wear; 
 
 If not the first, the fairest of the year: 
 
 For thee the Graces lead the dancing hours, 
 
 And Nature’s ready pencil paints the flowers. 
 
 May has ever been the favourite month of the year 
 in poetical description- hut the praises so lavishly 
 bestowed upon it, took their rise from climates more 
 southern than ours. In such, it really unites all the 
 soft beauties of Spring with the radiance of Summer; 
 and has warmth enough to cheer and invogorate, 
 without overpowering. With us, and especially 
 since we have reckoned by the New Style, great 
 part, of the month is yet too chill for a perfect enjoy¬ 
 ment of the charms of Nature ; and frequent injury is 
 done to the flowers and young fruits during its 
 course, by blights and blasting- winds. May-day, 
 though still observed as a rural festival, has often 
 
 o ' 
 
 little pleasure to bestow but that arising from the 
 name. In a very elegant poem, entitled The Tears 
 of old May-day , this newer rival is thus described— 
 
 Nor wonder, man, that Nature’s bashful face. 
 
 And opening charms her rude embraces fear: 
 
 Is she not sprung from April’s wayward race, 
 
 The sickly daughter of th’ unripen’d year? 
 
26 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 With show’rs and sunshine in her fickle eyes, 
 
 With hollow smiles proclaiming treach’rous peace; 
 
 With blushes, harb’ring in their thin disguise. 
 
 The blasts that riots on the Spring’s increase. 
 
 The month, however, on the whole, is even in this 
 country sufficiently profuse of beauties. The earth 
 is covered with the freshest green of the grass and 
 young corn, and adorned with numerous flowers 
 opening on every side. The trees put on all their 
 verdure. The hedges are rich in fragance from the 
 snowy blossoms of the hawthorn ; and the orchards 
 display their highest beauty in the delicate blush of 
 the apple blossoms— 
 
 From the moist meadow to the wither’d hill, 
 
 Led by the breeze, the vivid verdure runs, 
 
 And swells, and deepens, to the cherish’d eye. 
 
 The hawthorn whitens; and the juicy groves 
 Put forth their buds, unfolding by degrees, 
 
 ’Till the whole leafy forest stands display’d, 
 
 In full luxurience. - - - - - - - - 
 And the birds sing conceal’d. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 All this scene of beauty and fertility is, however, 
 sometimes dreadfully ravaged by the blights which 
 peculiarly occur in this month. The mischief seems 
 to be done chiefly by innumerable swarms of very 
 small insects, which are brought by the north-east 
 winds— 
 
 If, brush’d from Russian wilds, a cutting gale 
 Rise not, and scatter from his humid wing3 
 The clammy mildew ? or, dry-blowing, breathe 
 Untimely frost; before whose baleful blast 
 
MAY. 
 
 27 
 
 The full-blown Spring thro’ all her foliage shrinks. 
 Joyless and dead, a wide dejected waste. 
 
 For oft, engend’red by the hazy north. 
 
 Myriads on myriads, insect armies warp 
 Keen in the poison’d breeze; and wasteful eat 
 Thro’ buds and bark, into the blacken’d core 
 Their eager way. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 A cold and windy May is, however, accounted 
 favourable to the corn, which, if brouo’ht forward 
 by early warm weather, is apt to run into stalk, 
 while its ears remain thin and light. 
 
 The first of May is the general time for turning 
 out cattle into the pastures, though frequently then 
 very bare of grass. The milk soon becomes more 
 copious, and of finer quality, from the juices in the 
 young grass; and it is in this month that the making 
 of cheeses is usually begun in the dairies. 
 
 The g-ardens now yield an agreeable, though im¬ 
 mature product, in the young gooseberries and cur¬ 
 rants, which are highly acceptable to our tables, 
 now almost exhausted of their store of preserved 
 fruits. 
 
 The leafing of trees is commonly completed in this 
 month. It begins with the aquatic kinds, such as 
 willow, poplar, and alder; and ends with the oak, 
 beech, and ash. These are sometimes very thin of 
 foliage even at the close of May. 
 
28 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 Among’ the numerous wild flowers, none attracts 
 more notice than the cowslip, 
 
 Whose bashful flowers 
 Declining, hide their beauty from the sun, 
 
 Nor give their spotted bosoms to the gaze 
 Of hasty passenger. 
 
 On hedg'e hanks, the wild g-ermonder, of a fine 
 azure blue, is conspicuous; and the whole surface 
 of meadows is often covered with the yellow crow¬ 
 foot. These flowers are also called buttercups, and 
 are supposed by some to give the butter its rich 
 yellow ting’e at this season • but falsely, as the cows 
 will not touch it, on account of its biting- quality. 
 
 Birds hatch and rear their young- principally 
 during- this month. The patience and assiduity of 
 the female during- the task of sitting- is admirable; as 
 well as the conjugal affection of the male, who sings 
 to his mate, and often supplies her place; and nothing 
 can exceed the paternal tenderness of both, when 
 the young- are brought to light. 
 
 Towards the end of May, the bee-hives send forth 
 their earlier swarms. These colonies consist of the 
 young progeny, now grown too numerous to remain 
 in their parent habitation, and sufficiently strong and 
 vigorous to provide for themselves. One queen bee 
 is necessary to form each colony, and wherever she 
 flies, they follow. Nature directs them to march in 
 a body in quest of a new settlement, which, if left to 
 
MAY. 
 
 29 
 
 tlieir choice, would generally he some hollow trunk 
 of a tree. But man, who converts the labours and 
 instincts of so many animals to his own use, provides 
 them with a more secure dwelling-, and repays him¬ 
 self with their honey. The early swarms are gene¬ 
 rally the most valuable, as they have time enough to 
 lay in a plentiful store of honey for their subsistence 
 against the Winter. 
 
 This month is not a very busy season for the farmer. 
 Some sowing - remains to be done in late years 5 and 
 in forward ones, the weeds which spring’ up abun¬ 
 dantly both in fields and gardens, require to be kept 
 under. The husbandman now looks forward with 
 anxious hope to the reward of his industry— 
 
 Be gracious, Heaven ! for now laborious man 
 Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes, blow ! 
 
 Ye softening dews, ye tender showers, descend ! 
 
 And temper all, thou world-reviving sun, 
 
 Into the perfect year ! 
 
 Thomson. 
 
30 
 
 CALENDAR OP NATURE. 
 
 JUNE. 
 
 Now genial suns and gentle breezes reign, 
 
 And Summer’s fairest splendours deck the plain, 
 Exulting Flora views her new-born rose, 
 
 And all the ground with short-liv’d beauty glows. 
 
 June is really, in this climate, what the poets repre¬ 
 sent May to he—the most lovely month of the year. 
 Summer is commenced, and warm weather thorough¬ 
 ly established, yet the heats rarely arise to excess, 
 or interrupt the enjoyment of those pleasures, which 
 the scenes of Nature now afford. The trees are in 
 their fullest dress; and a profusion of the gayest 
 flowers is every where scattered around, which put 
 on all their beauty before they are cut down by the 
 scythe, or withered by the heat. 
 
 Soft copious showers are extremely welcome to¬ 
 wards the beginning of this month, to forward the 
 growth of the herbage. Such a one is thus described 
 by Thomson— 
 
 Gradual sinks the breeze 
 Into a perfect calm; that not a breath 
 Is heard to quiver through the closing woods, 
 
 Or rustling turn the many-twinkling leaves 
 Of aspen tall. 
 
 At last 
 
 The clouds aonsign their treasures to the fields: 
 
JUNE. 
 
 31 
 
 And lofty shaking on the dimpled pool 
 Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow. 
 
 In large effusion, o’er the freshened world. 
 
 The stealing shower is scarce to patter heard, 
 
 By such as wander through the forest walks. 
 
 Beneath th’ umbrageous multitude of leaves. 
 
 But who can hold the shade, while Heaven descends 
 In universal bounty, shedding herbs. 
 
 And fruits, and flowers, on Nature’s ample lap ? 
 
 One of the earliest rural employments of this 
 month is the shearing 1 of the sheep 5 a business of 
 much importance in various parts of the kingdom, 
 where wool is one of the most valuable products. 
 England has for many ages been famous for its 
 breeds of sheep, which yield wool of various quali¬ 
 ties, suited to different branches of the woollen manu¬ 
 factory. The downs of Dorsetshire, and other 
 southern and western counties, feed sheep whose fine 
 short fleeces are employed in making the best broad 
 cloths. The coarser wool of Yorkshire, and the 
 northern counties, is used in the narrow cloths. The 
 large Leicestershire and Lincolnshire sheep are 
 clothed with long thick flakes, proper for the hosier’s 
 use: and every other kind is valuable for some 
 particular purpose. 
 
 The season for sheep-shearing commences as soon 
 as the warm weather is so far settled, that the sheep 
 may without danger lay aside great part of their 
 clothing. The following tokens are given by Dyer 
 in his Fleece , to mark out the time— 
 
32 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 If verdant elder spreads 
 Her silver flowers; if humble daisies yield 
 To yellow crowfoot and luxuriant grass, 
 
 Gay shearing-time approaches. 
 
 Before shearing-, the sheep undergo the operation 
 of washing, in order to free the wool from the foul¬ 
 ness it has contracted. 
 
 Upon the brim 
 
 Of a clear river, gently drive the flock, 
 
 And plunge them one by one into the flood : 
 
 Plung’d in the flood, not long the struggler sinks, 
 
 With his white flakes, that glisten thro’ the tide ; 
 
 The sturdy rustic, in the middle wave. 
 
 Awaits to seize him rising; one arm bears 
 His lifted head above the limpid stream. 
 
 While the full clammy fleece the other laves 
 Around, laborious, with repeated toil; 
 
 And then resigns him to the sunny bank. 
 
 Where, bleating loud, he shakes his dripping locks. 
 
 Dyer. 
 
 The shearing- itself is conducted with a degree of 
 
 -j o 
 
 ceremony and rural dignity, and is a kind of festival, 
 as well as a piece of labour— 
 
 At last, of snowy white, the gathered flocks 
 Are in the wattled pen innumerous press’d. 
 
 Head above head : and, rang’d in lusty rows 
 The shepherds sit, and whet the sounding shears: 
 
 The housewife waits to roll her fleecy stores. 
 
 With all her gay -drest maids attending round. 
 
 One, chief, in gracious dignity enthron’d, 
 
 Shines o’er the rest, the pastoral queen, and rays 
 Her smiles, sweet-beaming, on her shepherd-king. 
 
JUNE. 
 
 33 
 
 A simple scene ! yet hence Britannia sees 
 Her solid grandeur rise : hence she commands 
 Th’ exalted stores of every brighter clime, 
 
 The treasures of the sun without his rage. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 A profusion of fragrance now arises from the 
 fields of clover in flower. Of this plant their are 
 the varieties of white and purple. The latter is 
 sometimes called honeysuckle, from the quantity of 
 sweet juice contained in the tube of the flower, 
 whence the bees extract much of their honey. 
 
 A still more delicious odour proceeds from the 
 beans in blossom 3 of which Thomson speaks in this 
 rapturous language— 
 
 Long let us walk 
 
 Where the breeze blows from yon extended field 
 Of blossom’d beans. Arabia cannot boast 
 A fuller gale of joy, than, liberal, thence 
 Breathes thro’ the sense, and takes the ravish’d soul. 
 
 Beans and peas belong to a larg-e natural family 
 of plants, called the papilionaceous , or butterfly 
 shaped-blossomed, and the leguminous , from the pods 
 they bear. Almost all these in our climate afford 
 wholesome food for man or beast. Of some, the 
 seeds alone are used, as of pea and bean ; of some, 
 the entire pod, as of French or kidney-bean 3 and of 
 some, the whole plant, as of clover, lucern, and vetch. 
 
 In the hedges, the place of the hawthorn is sup¬ 
 plied by the flowers of the hip, or dog-rose, the 
 
 D 
 
34 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 different hues of which, from a light blush to a deep 
 crimson, form a most elegant variety of colour. 
 Some time after, the woodbine or honey-suckle begins 
 to blow; and this, united with the rose, gives our 
 hedges their highest beauty and fragrance. 
 
 The several kinds of corn come into ear and flower 
 during this month* as do likewise numerous species 
 of grass, w hich, indeed, are all so many lesser kinds 
 of corn; or, rather, corn is only a larger sort of 
 grass. It is peculiar to all this tribe of plants, to 
 have long slender leaves, a jointed stalk, and a 
 flowering head, either in the form of a close spike, 
 like wheat, or a loose hunch, like oats. This head 
 consists of numerous husky flowers, each of which 
 bears a single seed. 
 
 In the large kinds, w hich are usually termed corn , 
 these seeds are big enough to he worth separating j 
 and they form the chief article of food of almost all 
 the civilized nations of the world. In Europe, the 
 principal kinds of corn are wheat, rye, barley, and 
 oats. In Asia, rice is most cultivated: in Africa, 
 and the West Indies, maize or Indian corn. 
 
 The smaller kinds, called grasses , are most valua¬ 
 ble for their leaves and stalks, or herbage, which 
 makes the principal food for all domestic cattle. 
 This, cut down and dried, makes hay, the Winter 
 provision of cattle in all the temperate and northern 
 climates. Grass is most fit to cut after it is in ear. 
 
JUNE. 
 
 35 
 
 but before its seeds are ripened. If it be suffered to 
 grow too long, it will loose all its nutrrtrious juices, 
 and become like the straw of corn. The latter part 
 of June is the beginning of hay-harvest for the 
 southern and middle parts of the kingdom. This is 
 one of the busiest and most agreeable of rural occu¬ 
 pations. Both sexes and all ages are engaged in it. 
 The fragrance of the new-mown hay, the gaiety of 
 all-surrounding objects, and the genial warmth of 
 the weather, all conspire to render it a season of 
 pleasure and delight to the beholder. It is at this 
 season that we can peculiarly feel the beauty of 
 these charming lines of Milton— 
 
 As one who long in populous city pent, 
 
 Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, 
 
 Forth issuing on a Summer’s morn to breathe 
 Among the pleasant villages and farms 
 Adjoin’d, from each thing met conceives delight, 
 
 The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine. 
 
 Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound. 
 
 On the twenty-first of June happens the Summer- 
 solstice , or longest day. At this time, in the most 
 northern parts of the island, there is scarcely any 
 night, the twilight continuing almost from the set¬ 
 ting to the rising of the sun 5 so that it is light 
 enough at midnight to see to read. This season is 
 also properly called Midsummer , though, indeed, the 
 greatest heats are not yet arrived; and there is 
 more warm weather after it than before. 
 
 The principal season for taking that delicate fish, 
 the mackerel, is in this month. 
 
36 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 Currants and gooseberries begin to ripen about 
 the end of June, and prove extremely refreshing as 
 the parching heats advance. 
 
 Though the other senses are so much gratified in 
 this month, the ear looses most of its entertainment, 
 as the birds, now the season of courtship and rear¬ 
 ing their young is past, no longer exercise their 
 musical powers. 
 
 The groves, the fields, the meadows, now no more 
 With melody resound. ’Tis silence all, 
 
 As if the lovely songsters, overwhelm’d 
 By bounteous Nature’s plenty, lay intranc’d 
 In drowsy lethargy. 
 
 After the end of June, an attentive observer heard 
 no birds except the stone curlew (thick-kneed plover 
 of Pennant) whistling late at night; the yellow- 
 hammer, goldfinch^ and golden-crested-wren, now 
 and then chirping. The cuckow’s note ceases about 
 this time. 
 
JULY. 
 
 3 ; 
 
 JULY. 
 
 Deep to the root 
 
 Of vegetation parch’d, the cleaving fields 
 And slipp’ry lawn an arid hue disclose; 
 
 Echo no more returns the cheerful sound 
 Of sharp’ning scythe; the mower sinking heaps 
 O’er him the humid hay, with flowers perfum’d. 
 
 As January is the coldest, July is the hottest month of 
 the year. The direct influence of the sun, indeed, 
 is continually diminishing’ after the Summer-solstice; 
 but the earth and air have been so thoroughly 
 heated, that the warmth which they retain more 
 than compensates, for a time, the diminution of solar 
 rays. The effects of this weather upon the face of 
 Nature soon become manifest. All the flowers of 
 the former month soon loose their beauty, shrivel 
 and fall; at the same time their leaves and stalk 
 lose their verdure, and the whole plant hastens to 
 decay. Many plants, however, do not begin to 
 flower till July: these are, particularly, the aroma¬ 
 tic ; the succulent, or thick-leaved; several of the 
 aquatic; and of those called compound-flowered, in 
 which many florets are collected into one head, as 
 thistle, sowthistle, hawkweed, &c. The lily is one 
 of the principal ornaments of gardens in this 
 month; and with its delicate white flowers, gives 
 an agreeable sensation of coolness to the eye. 
 
38 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 The animal creation seem oppressed with langour 
 during’ this hot season, and either seek the recesses 
 of woods, or resort to pools and streams to cool their 
 bodies, and quench their thirst— 
 
 On the grassy bank 
 Some ruminating lie; while others stand 
 Half in the flood, and often bending sip 
 The circling surface. In the middle droops 
 The strong laborious ox, of honest front. 
 
 Which incompos’d he shakes; and from his sides 
 The troublous insects lashes with his tail. 
 
 Returning still. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 The insect tribe, however, are peculiarly active and 
 vigorous in the hottest weather. These minute crea- 
 tures are for the most part annual, being- hatched 
 in the Spring, and dying at the approach of Winter: 
 they have, therefore, no time to lose in indolence, but 
 must make the most of their short existence; espe¬ 
 cially as their most perfect state continues only 
 during a part of their lives. All insects undergo 
 three changes, in each of which they are transformed 
 to a totally different appearance. From the egg, 
 they first turn into caterpillars or maggots , when they 
 crawl upon many feet, and are extremely voracious, 
 many kinds of them doing much mischief in the 
 gardens, and sometimes devouring the leaves of the 
 trees, and even the herbage on the ground. This is 
 their state in the Spring. They next become aurelius 
 or chrysalises , when they resemble an infant closely 
 wrapt in swaddling-clothes; being motionless, taking 
 
JULY. 
 
 39 
 
 no nourishment, and indeed, having 1 no appearance 
 of living 1 creatures. From this state they burst 
 forth into the perfect insect , shining 1 in all its colours, 
 furnished with wings, full of activity, capable of 
 propagating its species, and feeding, for the most 
 part, on thin liquid aliments, such as the honey of 
 flowers, and juices of animals. In this state most 
 of them continue but a short time. The male im r 
 pregnates the female ; she lays her eggs; and they 
 both die— 
 
 Wak’d by his warmer ray, the reptile young 
 Come wing’d abroad; by the light air upborn, 
 
 Lighter, and full of soul. From every chink, 
 
 And secret corner, where they slept away 
 The Wintry storms; or rising from their tombs. 
 
 To higher life; by myriads, forth at once. 
 
 Swarming they pour; of all the vary’d hues 
 Their beauty-beaming parent can disclose. 
 
 Ten thousand forms ! ten thousand different tribes ! 
 People the blaze. To sunny waters some 
 By fatal instinct fly; where on the pool 
 They, sportive, wheel; or, sailing down the stream. 
 
 Are snatch’d immediate by the quick-ey’d trout. 
 
 Or darting salmon. Thro’ the green-wood glade 
 Some love to stray; there lodg’d, amus’d and fed, 
 
 I n the fresh leaf. Luxurious, others make 
 The meads their choice, and visit every flower. 
 
 And every latent herb : for the sweet task. 
 
 To propagate their kinds, and where to wrap. 
 
 In what soft beds, their young yet undisclos’d, 
 
 Employs their tender care. Some to the house. 
 
 The fold, and dairy, hungry bend their flight; 
 
 Sip round the pail, or taste the curdling cheese. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
40 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE, 
 
 About the middle of this month, the shoals of that 
 migratory fish, the pilchard, begin to appear off the 
 coast of Cornwall. 
 
 The luxury of cooling shades is now peculiarly 
 grateful; and, indeed, is scarcely desired in this 
 climate longer than a few weeks at the height of 
 Summer— 
 
 Welcome, ye shades ! ye bowery thickets, hail ! 
 
 Ye lofty pines ! ye venerable oaks ! 
 
 Ye ashes wild, resounding o’er the steep ! 
 
 Delicious is your shelter to the soul, 
 
 As to the hunted hart the sallying spring. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Bathing, too, is a delightful amusement at this 
 season-, and happy is the swimmer, who alone is 
 able to enjoy the full pleasure of this healthful 
 exercise. The power of habit, to improve the natural 
 faculties, is in nothing more apparent than in the 
 art of swimming. Man, without practice, is utterly 
 unable to support himself in the water. In these 
 northern countries, the season for pleasant bathing- 
 being short, few in proportion can swim at all ; and 
 to those who have acquired the art, it is a laborious 
 and fatiguing exercise. Whereas, in the tropical 
 countries, where from their very infancy, both sexes 
 are continually plunging into the water, they become 
 a sort of amphibious creatures, swimming and diving 
 with the utmost ease, and for hours together, with¬ 
 out intermission. 
 
 The excessive heats of this period of the year, 
 
JULY. 
 
 41 
 
 cause such au evaporation from the surface of the 
 earth and waters, that after some continuance of dry 
 weather, large heavy clouds are formed, which, at 
 leng'th, let fall their collected liquor in extremely 
 copious showers, which frequently beat down the 
 full -grown corn, and sometimes deluge the country 
 with sudden floods. Thunder and lightning generally 
 accompany these Summer storms. Lightning is a col¬ 
 lection of electric fire drawn from the heated air and 
 earth, and accumulated in the clouds, which, at length 
 overcharged, suddenly let go their contents in the 
 form of broad flashes or fiery darts. These are at¬ 
 tracted again by the earth, and often intercepted by 
 buildings, trees, and other elevated objects, which 
 are shattered by the shock. Thunder is the noise 
 occasioned by the explosion, and therefore always 
 follows the lightning; the sound travelling slower 
 to our ears than the light to our eyes. Just the same 
 thing happens when a gun is fired at a distance. 
 When we hear the thunder, therefore, all danger from 
 that flash of lightning is over ; and the thunder, 
 though so awful and tremendous to the ear, is, of 
 itself, entirely harmless. 
 
 The effects of the great heat on the human body 
 are agreeably allayed, by the various wholesome 
 fruits which Providence offers at this season for the 
 use of man. Those which are now ripe, are of all 
 the most cooling and refreshing; as currants, goose¬ 
 berries, raspberries, strawberries, and cherries. 
 These are no less salutary and useful, than the 
 richest products of tbe warmer climates. 
 
42 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 Hens moult, or lose their feathers, during’ this 
 month. The smaller birds do not moult so early • 
 but all renew their plumage before Winter, when 
 they are in their finest and warmest clothing’. 
 
 Young- partridges are found at this time among 
 the corn. 
 
 The farmer’s chief employment in July, is getting- 
 home the various products of the earth. It is the 
 principal hay-month in the northern parts of the 
 kingdom, and the work people suffer much fatigue 
 from the excessive heat to which they are exposed. 
 
 Flax and hemp are pulled in this month. These 
 plants are cultivated in various parts of Europe, 
 more than in England. The stalks of both are full 
 of tough fibres or strings, which, separated and pre¬ 
 pared in a particular manner, become fit for spinning 
 into thread. Of flax, linen is made, from the finest 
 cambric, to the coarsest canvas. Hemp is chiefly 
 used for coarse cloth, such as strong sheeting, and 
 sacking • but it is sometimes wrought to considerable 
 fineness3 it is also twisted into ropes and cables. 
 
 The corn-harvest begins in July in the southern 
 parts of the island; hut August is the principal 
 harvest-month for the whole kingdom. 
 
AUGUST. 
 
 43 
 
 AUGUST. 
 
 Fair Plenty now begins her golden reign; 
 
 The yellow fields thick-wave with ripened grain; 
 
 Joyous the swains renew their sultry toils, 
 
 And bear in triumph home the harvest’s wealthy spoils. 
 
 In the beginning of this month, the weather is still 
 hot, and unusually calm and fair. What remained 
 to he perfected by the powerful influence of the sun, 
 is daily advancing to maturity. The farmer now 
 sees the principal object of his culture, and the 
 chief source of his riches, waiting only for the hand 
 of the gatherer. Of the several kinds of grain, rye 
 and oats are usually the first ripened ; but this varies 
 according* to the time of sowing; and some of every 
 species may be seen fit for cutting- at the same time. 
 
 Every fair day is now of great importance- since 
 when the corn is once ripe, it is liable to continual 
 damage while standing, either from the shedding of 
 the seeds, from the depredations of birds, or from 
 storms. 74ie utmost diligence is therefore used by 
 the careful husbandman to get it in, and labourers are 
 hired from all quarters to hasten the work— 
 
 Pour’d from the villages, a numerous train 
 Now spreads o’er all the fields. In form’d array 
 The reapers move, nor shrink for heat or toil, 
 
44 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 By emulation urg’d. Others dispers’d 
 Or bind in sheaves, or load or guide the wain 
 That tinkles as it passes. Far behind, 
 
 Old age and infancy with careful hand 
 Pick up each straggling ear. 
 
 This pleasing- harvest-scene is beheld in its per¬ 
 fection only in the open-field countries, where the 
 sight can take in at once an uninterrupted extent of 
 land waving with corn, and a multitude of people 
 engaged in the various parts of the labour. It is a 
 prospect equally delightful to the eye and the heart, 
 and which ought to inspire every sentiment of bene¬ 
 volence to our fellow-creatures, and gratitude to our 
 Creator— 
 
 Be not too narrow, husbandmen! but fling 
 From the full sheaf, with charitable stealth, 
 
 The liberal handful. Think, oh ! grateful, think. 
 
 How good the God of harvest is to you. 
 
 Who pours abundance o’er your flowing fields. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 In a late season, or where favourable opportunities 
 of getting in the harvest have been neglected, the 
 corn on the ground often suffers greatly from heavy 
 storms of wind and rain. It is beaten to the earth; 
 the seeds are shed, or rotted by the moisture; or, 
 if the weather continues warm, the corn grows , that 
 is, the seeds begin to germinate, and put out shoots. 
 Grain in this state is sweet and moist: it soon spoils 
 on keeping; and bread made from it is clammy and 
 unwholesome. 
 
AUGUST. 
 
 45 
 
 Harvest concludes with the field peas and beans, 
 which are suffered to become quite dry and hard 
 before they are cut down. The blackness of the 
 bean pods and stalks is disagreeable to the eye, 
 though the crop is valuable to the farmer. In these 
 countries they are used as food for cattle only, as the 
 nourishment they afford, though strong, is gross and 
 heavy. 
 
 The rural festival of harvest-liome is an extremely 
 natural one, and has been observed in almost all 
 ap-es and countries. What can more gladden the 
 heart, than to see the long-expected products of the 
 year, which have been the cause of so much anxiety, 
 now safely housed, and beyond the reach of injury? 
 
 Inwardly smiling, the proud farmer views 
 The rising pyramids that grace his yard. 
 
 And counts his large increase; his barns are stor’d 
 And groaning staddles bend beneath their load. 
 
 Somerville. 
 
 The poor labourer, too, who has toiled in securing 
 another’s wealth, justly expects to partake of the 
 happiness. The jovial harvest supper cheers his 
 heart, and prepareshim to begin without murmuring, 
 the labours of another year. 
 
 This month is the season of another kind of liar 
 vest in some parts of England, which is the hop-pick¬ 
 ing. The hop is a climbing plant, sometimes grow¬ 
 ing wild in hedges, and cultivated on account of its 
 
46 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 use in making malt liquors. They are planted in 
 regular rows, and poles set for them to run upon. 
 When the poles are covered to the top, nothing can 
 make a more elegant appearance than one of these 
 hop-gardens. At the time of gathering, the poles 
 are taken up with the plants clinging to them, and 
 the scaly flowering heads, which is the part used, 
 are carefully picked oft'. These are a finely-flavoured 
 bitter, which they readily impart to hot water. They 
 improve the taste of beer, and make it keep better. 
 Kent, Sussex, and Worcestershire, are the counties 
 most famous for the growth of hops. 
 
 The number of plants in flower is now very sensi¬ 
 bly diminished. Those of the former month are run¬ 
 ning fast to seed, and few new ones succeed. The 
 uncultivated heaths and commons are now, however, 
 in their chief beauty, from the flowers ol the different 
 kinds of heath or ling with which they are covered, 
 so as to spread a rich purple hue over the whole 
 'ground. Many of the fern tribe now shew the 
 rusty-coloured dots on the back of the leaves, which 
 are their parts of fructification. 
 
 Some of the choicest wall-fruits are now coming 
 into season.— 
 
 The sunny wall 
 
 Presents the downy peach, the shining plum, 
 The ruddy fragrant nectarine, and dark 
 Beneath his ample leaf, the luscious flg. 
 
AUGUST. 
 
 4 7 
 
 About the-middle of August, the largest of the 
 swallow tribe, the swift or long-wing, disappears. 
 As there can yet he no want of insect food, and the 
 weather is still warm, they cannot he supposed to 
 retire to holes or caverns and become torpid for the 
 Winter; and as they are so admirably formed for 
 flight, it can scarcely he doubted that they now mi¬ 
 grate to some distant country. Nearly at the same 
 time, rooks no longer pass the nights from home, 
 but roost in their nest-trees. 
 
 The red-breast, one of our finest though commonest 
 songsters, renews his music about the end of the 
 month. 
 
48 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 SEPTEMBER. 
 
 Now softened suns a mellow lustre shed, 
 
 The laden orchards glow with tempted red; 
 
 On hazel boughs the clusters hang embrown’d, 
 
 And with the sportsman’s war the new-shorn fields resound. 
 
 This is, in general, a very agreeable month, the 
 distinguishing softness and serenity of Autumn, with 
 its deep blue skies, prevailing through great part 
 of it. The days are now very sensibly shortened; 
 and the mornings and evenings are chill and damp, 
 though the warmth is still considerable in the middle 
 of the day. This variation of temperature, is one 
 cause why Autumn is an unhealthy time, especially 
 in the warmer climates and in moist situations. 
 Those who are obliged to be abroad early or late in 
 this season, should be guarded by warm clothing 
 against the cold fogs. 
 
 In late years, a good deal of corn is abroad, 
 especially in the northern parts of the island, at the 
 beginning of September; but it is supposed that, in. 
 general, all will be g'ot in, or at least cut, by this 
 time; for the first of the month is the day, on which 
 it is allowed by law, to begin shooting partridges. 
 These birds make their nests in corn-fields, where 
 they bring up their young, which run after the 
 
SEPTEMBER. 
 
 49 
 
 parents like chickens. While the corn is standi no¬ 
 th ey have a safe refuge in it; hut after harvest, 
 when the sportsman may freely range over the stub¬ 
 ble with his pointers, they are either obliged to take 
 the wing 1 , and offer themselves to the shooter’s aim: 
 or are surrounded by nets on the ground, and tnus 
 taken in whole coveys— 
 
 In his mid-career, the spaniel struck. 
 
 Stiff, by the tainted gale, with open nose, 
 
 Outstretch’d, and finely sensible, draics full, 
 
 Fearful and cautious, on the latent prey; 
 
 As in the sun the circling covey bask 
 Their varied plumes, and watchful every way 
 Thro’ the rough stubble turn the secret eye. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 A remarkable product of the earth collected in 
 this month, is saffron. This is cultivated in various 
 parts of Europe, but none is superior to that grown 
 in England, chiefly in the counties of Essex and 
 Cambridge. The saffron plant is a species of crocus, 
 which is planted in July, and the flowers gathered 
 in September. The part which alone is used, is the 
 fine branched Aliments on the inside of the flower, 
 called the Chives. It is properly an expansion of 
 the female part of fructification, or pistil. These are 
 picked off, dried, and pressed together into cakes. 
 They are of a high orange colour, and have a very 
 strong aromatic odour. Saffron is used in medicine as 
 cordial; and its flavour was formerly much esteemed 
 in cookery. It gives a fine deep yellow dye. 
 
 E 
 
 i 
 
50 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 Very few other flowers open in this month; and 
 it is to the ripening- fruits, that we are chiefly indebted 
 for variegation of colour in the landscape of Nature. 
 
 The labours of the husbandman have but a very 
 short intermission; for no sooner is the harvest 
 gathered in, but the fields are again plowed up, and 
 prepared for the Winter corn, rye and wheat, which 
 is sown during this month and the next. 
 
 At this time it is proper to straiten the entrance of 
 bee-hives, that wasps and drones may have less op¬ 
 portunity of getting- in, and devouring the honey. 
 
 Early in September, a harvest of a peculiar kind 
 is offered to the inhabitants of our sea-coasts, in the 
 immense shoals of herring-s, which travelling- in a 
 prodigious army from the neighbourhood of the arctic 
 circles, after many divisions and sub-divisions, at 
 length appear in the narrow seas which encompass 
 our island. Yarmouth is the principal station, in 
 England, from whence the fishermen proceed in 
 search of this valuable booty. 
 
 Towards the end of this month, the chimney or 
 common swallow entirely disappears. There are 
 various opinions concerning the manner in which these 
 birds dispose of themselves during the Winter; some 
 imagining that they all fly away to distant southern 
 regions, where insect-food is at all times to be met 
 with; others, that they retire to holes and caverns, 
 
51 
 
 SEPTEMBER. 
 
 or even sink to the bottom of ponds and rivers, 
 where they pass the Winter months in a torpid and 
 apparently lifeless state. That many of them migrate 
 to other countries, seems sufficiently proved. But 
 some, probably, always stay behind, which are the 
 younger broods, or smaller kinds, that are incapable 
 of so long- a flight. For some time before their de¬ 
 parture, they begin to collect in flocks, settling- on 
 trees, basking- on the roofs of buildings, or gather¬ 
 ing- round towers and steeples, from whence they 
 take short excursions, as if to try their powers of 
 flight— 
 
 When Autumn scatters his departing gleams. 
 
 Warn’d of approaching Winter, gathered, play 
 The swallow-people; and toss’d wide around, 
 
 O’er the calm sky, in convolution swift, 
 
 The feathered eddy floats : rejoicing once. 
 
 Ere to their Wintry slumbers they retire; 
 
 In clusters clung, beneath the mould’ring bank. 
 
 And where, unperceiv’d by frost, the cavern sweats. 
 
 Or rather into warmer climes convey’d, 
 
 With other kindred birds of season, there 
 They twitter chearful, till the vernal months 
 Invite them welcome back : for, thronging, now 
 Innumerous wings are in commotion all. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Not only the swallow tribe, but many other small 
 birds which feed on insects, disappear on the approach 
 of cold weather, when the insects themselves are no 
 longer to be met with. 
 
 On the other hand, some birds arrive at this sea¬ 
 son from still more northerly countries to spend the 
 
52 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 Winter with us. The fieldfare and redwing-, whose 
 departure was mentioned in March, return about the 
 end of September. They feed chiefly on the berries 
 with which our woods and hedges are plentifully 
 stored all the Winter. 
 
 Those sw r eet and mellow-toned songsters, the 
 wood-lark, thrush, and blackbird, now begin their 
 Autumnal music. 
 
 The most useful fruit this country afl'ords, the 
 apple, successively ripens, according to its different 
 kinds, from July to September or October- hut the 
 principal harvest of them is about the elose of this 
 month. They are now gathered for our English 
 vintage, the cyder-making , which in some counties is 
 a busy and important employment— 
 
 Autumn paints 
 
 Ausonian hills with grapes, whilst English plains 
 Blush with pomaceous harvests, breathing sweets. 
 
 O let me now, when the kind early dew 
 Unlocks the embosom’d odours, walk among 
 The well-rang’d files of trees, whose full-aged store 
 Diffuse ambrosial streams. 
 
 Now, now’s the time; ere hasty suns forbid 
 To work, disburthen thou thy sapless wood 
 Of its rich progeny; the turgid fruit 
 Abounds with mellow liquor. 
 
 Philips. 
 
 The apples are taken either fresh from the tree, 
 or after they have lain awhile to mellow, and crushed 
 in a mill, and then pressed, till all their juice is ex- 
 
SEPTEMBER. 53 
 
 tracted. This is set to ferment, whence it becomes 
 Cyder , which may properly be called Apple-wine. 
 Pears, treated in the same manner, yield a vinous 
 liquor, called Perry. These are the common drink 
 in the counties where they are chiefly made. 
 
 Another agreeable product both of our thickets 
 and gardens, the 1 hazel-nut, is fit for gathering at 
 this time— 
 
 Ye virgins come. For you their latest song 
 The woodlands raise; the clustering nuts for you 
 The lover finds amid the secret shade; 
 
 And, where they burnish on the topmost bough, 
 
 With active vigour crushes down the tree. 
 
 Or shakes them ripe from the resigning husk. 
 
 The acorns now begin to fall from the oak, and 
 the nuts from the beech • both which have the name 
 of mast. These, in countries where there are large 
 forests, afford a plentiful food to swine, which are 
 turned into the woods at this season. 
 
 The Autumnal equinox, when day and night is 
 again equal over the whole globe, happens about 
 the twenty-third of September. This, as well as the 
 vernal, is generally attended with storms, which 
 throw down much of the fruit yet remaining on the 
 trees. 
 
 By the end of this month, the leaves of many trees 
 have their verdure impaired, and begin to put on 
 their Autumnal colours; which, however, are not 
 complete till the ensuing month. 
 
54 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE, 
 
 OCTOBER. 
 
 The fading many-colour’d woods. 
 
 Shade deep’ning over shade, the country round 
 Imbrown; a crowded umbrage, dusk and dun. 
 
 Of every hue, from wan declining green 
 To sooty dark. 
 
 The great business of Nature, with respect to the 
 vegetable creation, at this season, is dissemination. 
 Plants, having gone through the progressive stages 
 of springing, flowering, and seeding, have at length 
 brought to maturity the rudiments of a future pro¬ 
 geny, which are now to be committed to the foster¬ 
 ing bosom of the earth. This being’ done, the 
 parent vegetable, is of the herbaceous kind, either 
 totally dies, or perishes as far as it rose above 
 
 ground : if a tree or shrub , it loses all its tender parts 
 
 which the Spring and Summer had put forth. Seeds 
 are scattered by the hand of Nature in various man¬ 
 ners. The winds, which at this time arises, disperse 
 far and wide many seeds which are curiously fur¬ 
 nished with feathers or wings for this purpose. 
 
 Hence plants with such seeds are, of all, the most 
 universally to be met with ; as dandelion, groundsel, 
 ragwort, thistles, &c. Other seeds, by the means 
 of hooks, lay hold of passing animals, and are thus 
 carried to distant places. The common burs are 
 examples of this contrivance. Many are contained 
 
OCTOBER. 
 
 55 
 
 in berries, which being- eaten by birds, the seeds are 
 discharged again, uninjured, and grow where they 
 happen to light. Tims carefully has Nature provided 
 for the distribution and propagation of plants. 
 
 The gloom of the falling- year is in some measure 
 enlivened, during- this month especially, by the 
 variety of colours, some lively and beautiful, put on 
 by the fading leaves of trees and shrubs— 
 
 Those virgin leaves, of purest vivid green. 
 
 Which charm’d ere yet they trembled on the trees, 
 
 Now cheer the sober landscape in decay: 
 
 The lime first-fading; and the golden birch, 
 
 With bark of silver hue; the moss-grown oak. 
 Tenacious of its leaves of russet-brown; 
 
 Th’ ensanguin’d dogwood; and a thousand tints 
 Which Flora, dress’d in all her pride of bloom, 
 
 Could scarcely equal, decorate the groves. 
 
 To these temporary colours are added the more 
 durable ones of ripened berries, a variety of which 
 now enrich our hedges. Among these are particu¬ 
 larly distinguished the hip, the fruit of the wild 
 rose- the haw, of the hawthorn 3 the sloe, of the 
 blackthorn; the blackberry, of the bramble; and 
 the berries of the elder, holly, and woody nightshade: 
 These are a providential supply for the birds during 
 the Winter season ; and it is said, that they are most 
 plentiful when the ensuing Winter is to be most 
 severe. 
 
 The common martin, whose nests, hung under the 
 eaves of our houses, afford so ag reeable a spectacle 
 
56 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 of parental fondness and assiduity, usually disappears 
 in October. As this, though one of the smallest of 
 the swallow kind, stays the latest, its emigration to 
 distant climates is less probable than that of the others. 
 The sand-martin which breeds in boles in the sandy 
 banks of rivers, and about cliffs and quarries, most 
 probably passes the Winter in a torpid state in those 
 holes. 
 
 The royston, or hooded crow, which migrates 
 northwards to breed, returns about the beginning of 
 this month. At the same time the woodcock is first 
 seen on our eastern coasts; though the great body 
 of them does not arrive till November or December. 
 Various kinds of water-fowl, which breed in the 
 northern regions, approach our coasts at this season. 
 About the middle of the month, wild geese quit the 
 fens, and go up to the rye lands, where they pluck 
 the young corn. 
 
 The weather about this period is sometimes extreme¬ 
 ly misty, with a perfect calm. The ground is covered 
 with spiders’ webs innumerable, crossing the paths, 
 and extending from one shrub to another— 
 
 Now by the cool declining year condens’d. 
 
 Descend the copious exhalations, check’d 
 As up the middle sky unseen they stole, 
 
 And roll the doubling fogs around the hill. 
 
 . -.Thence expanding far, 
 
 The huge dust, gradual, swallows up the plain: 
 
 Vanish the woods; the dim-seen river seems 
 Sullen, and slow, to roll the misty wave. 
 
OCTOBER. 
 
 57 
 
 Even in the height of noon opprest, the sun 
 Sheds weak, and blunt, his wide refracted ray; 
 Whence glaring oft, with many a broaden’d orb, 
 
 He frights the nations. Indistinct on earth, 
 
 Seen thro’ the turbid air, beyond the life 
 Objects appear; and wilder’d, o’er the waste 
 The shepherd stalks gigantic. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 This month is the heio-ht of the hunting- season. 
 The temperature of the weather is peculiarly favour¬ 
 able to the sport •, and as the products of the earth 
 are all got in, little damage is done by tbe horse¬ 
 men in pursuing their chace across the fields— 
 
 All now is free as air, and the gay pack 
 In the rough bristly stubbles range umblam’d; 
 
 No widow’s tears o’erflow, no secret curse 
 Swells in the farmer’s breast, which his pale lips 
 Trembling conceal, by his fierce landlord aw’d: 
 
 But courteous now he levels every fence. 
 
 Joins in the common cry, and halloos loud. 
 
 Charm’d with the rattling thunder of the field. 
 
 Somerville. 
 
 It is usually in October that the bee-hives are 
 despoiled of their honey. As long as flowers are 
 plentiful, the bees continue adding to their store; 
 but when these fail, they are obliged to begin feed¬ 
 ing on the honey they have already made. From 
 this time, therefore, the hive grows less and less 
 valuable. Its condition is judged of by its weight. 
 The common method of getting- at the honey, is by 
 destroying- the bees with the fumes of burning brim¬ 
 stone. The humane Thomson exclaims against this 
 practise— 
 
58 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 Ah see where robb’d, and murder’d, in that pit 
 Lies the still heaving hive ! at evening snatch’d, 
 Beneath the cloud of guilt-concealing night, 
 
 And fix’d o’er sulphur; while, not dreaming ill, 
 The happy people, in their waxen cells, 
 
 Sat tending public cares, and planning schemes 
 Of temperance, for Winter poor; rejoice 
 To mark, full flowing round, their copious stores. 
 Sudden the dark oppressive steam ascends; 
 
 And, us’d to milder scents, the tender race, 
 
 By thousands, tumble from their honeyed domes, 
 Convolv’d, and agonizing in the dust. 
 
 And was it then for this you roam’d the Spring, 
 Intent from flower to flower ! for this you toil’d 
 Ceaseless the burning Summer-heats away ? 
 
 For this in Autumn search’d the blooming waste, 
 Nor lost one sunny gleam ; for this sad fate ? 
 
 This cruel necessity may be prevented by using 1 
 hives or boxes properly contrived; or by employing 
 fumes which will stupify but not kill them. In this 
 case, however, enough of the honey must be left for 
 their subsistence during the Winter. 
 
 In most of the wine countries of Europe, the 
 vintage takes place in October. The grape is one of 
 the latest fruits in ripening. When gathered, they 
 are immediately pressed, and the juice is fermented, 
 like that of apples in making Cyder. A great 
 variety of wines are produced from the different 
 kinds of grapes, and the diversity of climates in 
 which they grow. In England, this fruit does not 
 ripen constantly enough, to be worth cultivation for 
 the purpose of making wine. 
 
OCTOBER. 
 
 59 
 
 This month is particularly chosen, on account of 
 its mild temperature, for the brewing of malt liquor 
 designed for long keeping, which is, therefore, com¬ 
 monly called old October. 
 
 The farmer continues to sow his Winter corn during 
 this month ; and wheat is frequently not all sown till 
 the end of it. When the weather is too wet for this 
 business, he plows up the stubble fields for Winter 
 fallows. Acorns are sown for young plantations at 
 this time; and forest and fruit trees are planted. 
 
 At the very close of the month, a few flowers still 
 cheer the eye; and there is a second blow of some 
 kinds, particularly of the woodbine. But the scent 
 of all these late flowers is comparatively faint. 
 
60 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 NOVEMBER. 
 
 Now the leaf 
 
 Incessant rustles from the mournful grove; 
 
 Oft startling such as, studious, walk below ; 
 
 And slowly circles thro’ the waving air. 
 
 As the preceding 1 month was marked hy a change , so 
 this is distinguished hy the fall ot the leaf. This 
 last is so strikino- a circumstance, that the whole 
 declining season of the year is often, in common 
 language, named the Fall. There is something ex- 
 tremely melancholy in this gradual process, hy which 
 the trees are stripped of all their beauty, and 
 left so many monuments of decay and desolation. 
 The first of poets has deduced from this quick suc¬ 
 cession of springing and falling leaves, an apt com¬ 
 parison for the fugitive races of men— 
 
 Like leaves on trees the race of man is found. 
 
 Now green in youth, now withering 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 past away. 
 
 Pope’s Homer. 
 
 This loss of verdure, together with the shortened 
 days, the diminishing warmth, and frequent rains, 
 justify the title of the gloomy month oj November. 
 
NOVEMBER. 61 
 
 and other animals seem to sympathize with man in 
 feeling it as such— 
 
 u 
 
 In pensive guise, 
 
 Oft let me wander o’er the russet mead, 
 
 And thro’ the saddened grove, where scarce is heard 
 One dying strain, to cheer the woodman’s toil. 
 
 Haply some widowed songster pours his plaint, 
 
 Far, in faint warblings, thro’ 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 shivering sit 
 On the dead tree, a dull despondent flock; 
 
 With not a brightness waving o’er their plumes, 
 
 And nought save chattering discord in their note. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Intervals of clear and pleasant weather, however, 
 frequently occur; and, in general, the Autumnal 
 months are, in our island, softer and less variable 
 than the correspondent ones in Spring-. It long- con¬ 
 tinues— 
 
 The pale descending year, yet pleasing still. 
 
 In fair weather, the mornings are somewhat frosty; 
 but the hoar frost or thin ice soon vanishes after 
 sun-rise— 
 
 The lengthened night elaps’d, the morning shines 
 Serene, in all her dewy beauty bright, 
 
 Unfolding fair the last Autumnal day. 
 
 And now the mounting sun dispels the fog; 
 
 The rigid hoar frost melts before his beam; 
 
 And hung on every spray, on every blade 
 Of grass, the myriad dew-drops twinkle round. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
62 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 High winds frequently happen in November, 
 which at once strip the trees of their faded leaves, 
 and reduce them to their Winter state of nakedness— 
 
 O’er the sky the leafy deluge streams; 
 
 Till choak’d and matted with the dreary shower, 
 
 The forest-walks, at every rising gale. 
 
 Roll wide the wither’d waste, and whistle bleak. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Flocks of wood-pigeons, or stock-doves, the latest 
 in their arrival of the birds of passage, visit us in 
 this month. 
 
 Salmons now begin to ascend the rivers to spawn. 
 Their force and agility in leaping over cataracts and 
 other obstacles to their ascent, are very surprizing. 
 They are frequently taken in this attempt, by nets 
 or baskets placed directly below the fall, into which 
 they are carried after an unsuccessful leap. 
 
 The farmer strives during this month to finish all 
 his plowing of fallows • and then lays up his utensils 
 till the ensuing year. 
 
 Cattle and horses are taken out of the exhausted 
 pastures, and kept in the house or yard. Hogs are 
 put up to fatten. Sheep are turned into the turnip- 
 field, or, in stormy weather, fed with the hay at the 
 rick. 
 
 Bees now require to be moved under shelter \ and 
 the pigeons in the dove-house to be fed. 
 
DECEMBER. 
 
 03 
 
 DECEMBER. 
 
 See, Winter comes, to rule the varied year, 
 
 Sullen and sad, with all his rising train ? 
 
 Vapours, and clouds, and storms. 
 
 The changes which take place in the face of Nature 
 during this month, are little more than so many ad¬ 
 vances in the progress towards universal gloom and 
 desolation— 
 
 No mark of vegetable life is seen. 
 
 No bird to bird repeats his tuneful call, 
 
 Save the dark leaves of some rude evergreen, 
 
 Save the lone red-breast on the moss-grown wall. 
 
 Scott. 
 
 The day now rapidly decreases 3 the weather 
 becomes foul and cold 3 and, as Shakspeare ex¬ 
 presses it— 
 
 The rain and wind beat dark December. 
 
 In this climate, however, no great and continued 
 severity of cold usually takes place before the close 
 of the month. 
 
 Several of the wild quadrupeds now take to their 
 Winter concealments, which they either seldom or 
 never quit during the Winter. Of these, some are 
 
64 
 
 CALENDAR OF NATURE. 
 
 in an absolutely torpid or sleeping* state, taking* no 
 food for a considerable time ; others are only drowsy 
 and inactive, and continue to feed on provisions 
 which they have hoarded up. In our mild climate, 
 few become entirely torpid. Bats do so, and retire 
 early to caves and holes, where they remain the 
 whole Winter, suspended by the hind feet, and 
 closely wrapped up in the membranes of the fore-feet. 
 As their food is chiefly insects, they can lay up no 
 store for the Winter, and therefore must be starved, 
 did not Nature thus render food unnecessary for them. 
 Dormice also, lie torpid the greatest part of the 
 Winter, though they lay up stores of provision. A 
 warm day sometimes revives them, when they eat a 
 little, but soon relapse into their former condition. 
 
 Squirrels, and various kinds of field-mice, provide 
 magazines of food against Winter, but are not known 
 to become torpid. The badger, the hedgehog, and 
 the mole, keep close in their Winter-quarters in the 
 northern regions, and sleep away great part of the 
 season. 
 
 The only vegetables which now flourish, are the 
 numerous tribes of mosses, and the lichens or liver¬ 
 worts. The mosses put forth their singular and 
 minute parts of fructification during the Winter 
 months; and other a most curious spectacle to the 
 botanist, at a time when all the rest of Nature is dead 
 to him. Lichens cover the ditch banks, and other 
 neglected spots, with a leather-like substance, which 
 
DECEMBER. 
 
 65 
 
 ia some countries serves as food both to men and 
 cattle. The rein-deer lichen is the greatest treasure 
 of the poor Laplanders, who depend upon it for the 
 support of their only species of domestic cattle, 
 during 1 their tedious Winters. 
 
 On the twenty-first of December happens the Win¬ 
 ter-solstice, or shortest day; when the sun is some¬ 
 thing- less than eight hours above the horizon, even 
 in the southern parts of the island. Soon after this, 
 frost and snow generally begin to set in for the rest 
 of Winter. 
 
 The farmer has little to do out of doors in the 
 course of this month. His chief attention is bestowed 
 on the feeding and management of his cattle, and 
 various matters of household ceconomy. 
 
 The festival of Christmas^ occurs very seasonably 
 to cheer this comfortless period of the year. Great 
 preparations are made for it in the country, and 
 plenty of rustic dainties are provided for its cele¬ 
 bration, according to the rites of antient hospitality. 
 Thus the old year steals away scarcely marked, and 
 unlamented; and a new one begins with lengthening 
 days and brighter skies, inspiring fresh hopes and 
 pleasing expectations—• 
 
 Mysterious round ! what skill, what force divine. 
 
 Deep felt, in these appear ! a simple train. 
 
 Yet so delightful mix’d, with such kind art. 
 
 Such beauty and beneficence combin’d ; 
 
 Shade, unperceiv’d, so softening into shade; 
 
 And all so forming an harmonious whole; 
 
 That, as they still succeed, they ravish still. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
f" 
 
 TABLE 
 
 of the Sun’s entrance into each Sign of 
 the Zodiac. 
 
 Though the following Table may not be understood astro¬ 
 nomically by most of the readers of this book, yet it may be 
 useful as a reference, on account of the frequent allusions of 
 poets and other writers to the subject. 
 
 The Sun enters into 
 
 Aries, or the Ram, y'.March 20. 
 
 Taurus, or the Bull, ft.April 19. 
 
 Gemini, or the Twins, n.May 21. 
 
 Cancer, or the Crab, £5.June 22. 
 
 Leo, or the Lion, ft.July 23. 
 
 Virgo, or the Virgin, .August 23. 
 
 Libra, or the Balance, ^.September 23. 
 
 Scorpio, or the Scorpion, TT\.October 23. 
 
 Sagittarius, or the Archer, f .. .November 22. 
 Capricornus, or the Wild Goat,Vy December 22. 
 Aquarius, or the Waterer, ££ ... .January 19. 
 Pisces, or the Fishes, X.February 18. 
 
I 
 
4 
 
 
 
 
 ■ 1 
 
 
RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 LIBRARY 
 
 PE1127 
 
 .S3 
 
 A5 
 
 1822