The weekly democratic statesman. [volume] (Austin, Tex.) 1871-1883, 1873-12-04

The change OF seasons, IN All IT'S various
manifestations, is ono of the evidences of
Almighty wisdom every where displayed in
the universe. An entire uniformity of
climate would be tiresome and dreary to
mankind, and constant change in all things
seems almost a necessity Of their nature.
What if the skies were always cloudless
and eternal sunshine prevailed, would we
not tire of its perpetuity, glorious as it is,
and long for changel What if there was
no variety of heat or cold, but one contin-
uous warmth, day after day and year after
year! Weshould stagnate and become en-
ervated and worthless We imperatively re.
quire change and variety. We are So con-
stituted that we can not do without it.
After the hot summer, we long for the cool
breezes of autumn, and welcome the bleak
winter with its cold winds and icy frosts.
They brace up our languid frames and give
us new energy and activity for the work
and duties of life.
But after lis brief reign we again sigh for
the soft and baImy air of spring, with its
sunshine and flowers. We think of the in
vocation of the poet:
"Come gentle Spring. ethereal mildness come,
And from the bosom OF yon dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veiled in a shower
OF shadOwing roses, on our plains descend"
This is the last day of autumn. In this
favored cline its mild reign continues
usually up to the very entrance of winter,
as marked in the calendar, and even now
we greet the yearly visitor with flowers and
the brightest sunshine. We have so farhad
but slight frosts to do little injury to vege-
tation, and roses and other beautiful ac-
compartments are plentiful if not abundant.
Our autumnal roses are often the most per-
feet of all the seasons. In saying goodbye
to autumn, we have no tears to wipe away.
as we turn to welcome the winter. Each is
good and desirable in its turn. To us in
lovely Texas, winter presents no repulsive
aspect. 1t looks cheerful and strong and
bright We known nothing of its sublim-
ity, as portrayed by the gifted author of the
Seasons.
The following, to all natives of the Sunny
South, will seem very strange and unnat-
ural description:
''In winter awful Thou; with clouds and storms
Around Thee thrown, tempest on tempest hurled
Majestic darkness, on the whirlwinds wing
Riding sublime, Thou bidst the world adore,
And humblest nature with thy northern blast"
Here the winter is the least tempestuous
Of the seasons. There is far more of beauty
than sublimity in it. 1t is true, now and
then we have the northern blasts, but they
are usually harmless, and rather pleasant
than otherwise, except to the traveller or
immigrant caught out on the boundless
prairie without fire or shelter. Instead of
majestic darkness, we have mostly bright
and cheerful sunshine, with rain sufficient
TO refresh the reposing earth and keep green
the prairie grass and the winter wheat No
whirlwinds and few real storms disturb our
enjoyments, as in that colder cline, where
dwelt the sweet singer of the changeful
seasons. Thank Heaven for the beautiful
land we live in. Thank Heaven for its
matchless climate and its varied and abun-
dant productions. Thank Heaven for all
its blessings, and welcome the coming win
ter with its Christmas and New Year and
their merry makings and innocent rejoicings
of all kinds Good bye to the Autumn;
good bye.