Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1856-11-06
The Scenery Of Autumn.

The Scenery Of Autumn.
Autumn is the season of the year for
poetic minds, and for oil enthusiastic lovers
of the country and the residents of cities
who, never visiting the country save in the
heats of summer, when the fields are often
parched with drought and the trees by the
roadside covered with dust, have no concep-
tion o: the glory which nature assumes be-
fore yielding to the sovereignty Of winters
snow and ice. The Presbyterian has an ap-
precative article on the subject, with good
moral:
"In this autumnal season poets pour forth
their lainents on the decay Of earth's glsry
as the verdure of spring and summer gives
place TO the 'sere and yellow Leaf As
they look upon the woods, with its changed
drapery, the silent dropping leaves, and the
trees partially stripped and bare, no figures
seem so appropriate as those which recall
the image of DEATH We love the spring,
and feel peculiar exhilaration al no other
time felt, in watching the young and vigor-
Gus vegetation as it shoots forth in its fresh
its maturer beauties and its mere ardent
skies; but we would net drape the autumnal
months in mourning and give them but a
melancholy greeting, as II they were the
harbingers o. sorrow. No, no; the autumn
has other than mournful associations. The
amateur, if not the artist, will discover
world Of beauty in it's varegated fo!icge,
and, as the golden and crimson leaves min
gle their hues, the picture will be perfect.
and even when they fall they wiltshire the
eye as birds of gay plumage ewooping to-
wards the earth. All. but 90 they rot fall
to perish, Is it final departure OF their
glory! They fall not until they are ripe,
and it is in their ripeness only that they
fall, like the golden pippin, which drops be-
cause it can extract no more rich juices from!
the parent stem and has completed its ma
turity To our mind the autuma@l phenorn-
ena convey the idea OF work accomplished,
of mission fulfilled. Take that noble oak
as q representative. |; has outiiged cen-
tury, and has not only outtravad many
storm, but witnessed the changes OF hun
dred autumns. What if its huge arms be
now almost barred! Is it not ipll of life! Is
it rot broader and stronger and more deeply
rooted than when visited by the young
spring? Has it not, for another season
well fulfilled its task and laid up new treas
ures o! might! 1t now needs repose; i, lays
aside its snowy garments; it wishcs 10 be
undisturbed by rustl;ng leaves, and by the
rushing through thousand channels Of is
circulating sap. 1t seeks, in this quiet and
neiseless way, to recuperate its strength
and grid on its power for further feasts on
coming year. Il is neither dead nor
bears the semblance of decay, but, like one
conscious of successful achievements, it
takes brief repose, that it may spread
broader its glorious foliage, extend wider
its grateful shade, and fortify itself by a.
still better equipment for the storm battles
of manNcoming years. 1t is the brave old
oak, fitting itself for future service and USE
fulness.
"Thus all around us we see, not autumnai
death, but autumnal ripeness. o, what ex-
quisite pleasure have these plants and flow
ers furnished US in the past months! They
Withdraw now for a season, but it is with
the cheering promise of speedy return
Ye beautiful creations we would hail you
in all seasons and under all changes, and
learn from you to fulfill our tasks of cheer
fnl duty, and at each stage of it that our
fruits are mstured-Dot on y to grow and
thrive ourselves, but by every graceful art
to convey pleasure and happiness to others:
and, above all, that sweet and comforting
lesson that when the autumnal and wintry
months of life come over Us, we may feel
conscious that we have fulfilled our mission,
borne our appropriate fruits,. and, although
to the outward eye the prospect around
may be somewhat drear, yet there is, after
a short repose, to be re.iviiication. re-
newal OF strength, an immortal verdure, an
increasing truitfulness in brighter and more
genial climes, where there sha II be neither
unpropitious seasons nor frutless labor"