Weekly national intelligencer. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1841-1869, 1845-10-18

SOME REFLECTIONS.

"The autumn has come the trees and fields have put
their sober hue and accommodating themselves to
the change"
The concluding portion of the above extract from
a letter, which we received few days since from
friend IN Westchester, is in delightful harmony
with the true principles of religious philosophy.
Men are accommodating themselves to the change"
This is the very lesson which the seasons and their
changes are intended TO mpart-ths the effect they
should produce. The falling leaf the whitening
heritage, and the naked field should lead 10 contem-
plation---not mourning, not melancholy, but the
sober reflection, from which we rise with better
resolves, with irmer faith, with humber dependence
The seasons always changing, and every
stage in each is beautifully instructive Only few
days since we drove to thick wood now seldom
traversed, and paused amid its dim silence, to note
the effect OF the autumn upon the foliage. Here
and there tree stood half denuded the long sum
mer had exhausted the nutrition of the leaves, and
they had fallen, and were warming the earth beneath
the branches and sending back with grateful use the
nourshment which had been derived from the soil.
Here and there again tall denizen of the wood
was seen dropping, if reluctantly, few of its
leaves. They had not dried up, to become the sport
of every little eddying breeze, but they fell straight
down, if with a motive. Their freshness
had not departed. They seemed like some of
much of their vitality, so much of their means
of loneliness, that almost expect them to
return. We reserve in our hearts place for the
delights and the pleasures Of youth, even till age
has brought with il the gray hairs that sign Of
the grave just as the branch retains the foostalk's
mark, half buried beneath the bud that has crowded
the leaf from its place. The trees have not yet
assumed the gorgeous colors of the later autumn
The glowing red has not yet come to set off a bril-
liant yellow. The green yet predominates with
here and there nothing of dull red, and tokens of
other still changing hues. But there is pause as
if the whole work of spring and summer was wait
ing the inspection of some higher power ere the
holyday garments were donned--a carnival of the
forest population; little display, before the whole
should be stripped off, and joyess winter be sent to
rule the naked shiverng subjects ofhs iccle scepre.
The slow dropping of the leaves around awak-
ened in us train OF reflections. We cannot retrace
II now, but we remember that the deepest interest
OF active life seemed for moment shallow and un-
profitable, and we wondered that man. who is fading
and falling as the leaves around us, should forget
for his whole life the decduous nature of his exist
ence, and be clingng to some petty stem, or de-
Lighting in some accidental breeze, that plea
sure by the very agitation which may force him
from his hold. Not that to fall would be the worst
which might betide the leaf; TO drop down like the
halt yellow foliage before us, mingle in the rich
ness of that upon which it rested, to add TO the
good quality of that Of which it formed part and
to return portion of what it had gathered-nay, if
the football of the wanderer should crush it. to be
able to send up SAVIOR of richness, surely there
is kind of honor in this 1t to have added some
thing to the beauty of the tree on which it grew,
and to retain portion Of the richness of the earth
which ministered to its luxurance while the dry
leaf that cngs to its stem deforms its parent branch
and becomes unsighhy, proftess, and waste. tits
good to stand in these teachings to feel that the true
beauty Of life is formed by the combination of indi-
vidual gifts; and the worthless liver is he who adds
nothing to the charms Of existence. The pro6tess
death is that which leaves no remembrance of virtue
to quicken and invgorate the good principle in
others.
Better than linger dry and waste upon the branches
is it to fall with the untimely rosts Of spring. be
beautiful in decay, the decacy ofnfancy and all its
sweets lingering about the tiny form, and enforcing
loneliness even while the freshness is departing.
We know not what may deform the maturing leaf,
but that which drops light, and noseess, and young,
seems to smile in its separation and to leave with
US a constant remembrance of its loneliness and
sweets.-Lnited States Gazette.