Litchfield enquirer., 1831-12-01

structed a refecting mirror of 16S panes of glass, moveable on hinges, which set fire to wood at the distance of l5O feet, and melt ed lead at 145 feet.
 AUTUMN.
 The later weeks in autumn possess n pensive interest from the change of the for- est foliage. The fresh, beautiful green, that girded the mountain, and waved over the wales like the graceful folds of man. tie, is now no more. The traveller tresds in the wilderness on a rnstling bed. and the passing wind is burdened with the descent and flight of the sere and yellow leaves. The trees begin to stretch out their bare imptoring arms towards heaven that may trown in wiDtry terror upon them. A walk in the woods in these clear autumnal days, is lesson of wisdom. The spring is fore told in the death of vegetation, as immor- tality is denoted by the grave. In both cases nature dies that it may live again 1; lays down in the dust that it may clolhe it. self afresh in the colors of glory. - We know not of more vivid, and, at the same time, more accurate description iof the changes wrought on autumnal foli- age by the frost, than that by Mir. John Neal. He says " In the evening of a fine day, perhaps all the great woods will be green, with hardly red, or brown, or a yellow leaf A sharp frost will set in at night. Before the sun rises again, tue boundless verdure of whole province---a whole empire, in truth-will be changed. In the morning there will be hardly green leaf to be found. Before the week is over, go where you may through the soperb will derness, you will meet with nothing but gay, brilliant scarlet, purple, orange, with every possible variety of brown, light blue, and vivid crimson or blood color. Of all the trees, none but the evergreen tribe keep their integrity. They show along the bat dement's of tho mountain darker than ever, more cloudy than ever; like so many architectural ruins, or surviving turrets in in the splendor of tho surrounding land- scape.
 No, no--it is not saying too much of all this beauty, of all this great magni6cence, when the fresh, cold, brisk wind of the sea- son gets among the branches after such a night, and blows up the superAuous leafing to tho warm sunshine like tempest a- mong prodgious flowers, tearing and scat- tering the tulip colored foliage over all the earth, and over all the waters; no. it is not saying to much, merely to say, that, under heaven, throughout all the vegetable creation, there is no spectacle of beauty, or show of richness, or grandeur, to be com pared with it. Imaginative do not mind appearing little absurd,- if thereby, we may give the stranger true idea of this appearance )-imagine, therefore, great wilderness of peoples, or tulips. outspread- ing itself on every side, reaching quite a. way to the horizoh, over hill, and over val ley; or a wood, literally encumbered, heavy, with great gorgeous live butterflies, for ever in motion. t@.
 We have been traveller; we have looked upon the dark Norwegian woods, their dull evergreens towering up intO the sky, and covering whole province; 1; woods, too, of stupendous oak, each tree, if the soil were divided, Oyershadowing a mans inheritance, fourishing brayely through whole territories; more than one quiet, solitary place, entirely shut in by the hills, Towering all over all the year round. But we never met with, never heard of, never looked upon, elsewhere, that profu- sion of glorious vegetable beauty which is to be seen every .taH in the woods of North America; heaped up on the banks of all the rivers, up to the very skies, on the green mountains, or accumulated over the low countries, and weltering there, all the day through, in the light, or shadow, or wind, or sunshine, of tho season.
 FITI.TON