onsets of martial enthusiasm! And when some well-contested and
decisive victory had put a period to the war, both armies should unite
to build a lofty monument of snow upon the battle-field, and crown it
with the victor's statue, hewn of the same frozen marble. In a few
days or weeks thereafter, the passer-by would observe a shapeless
mound upon the level common; and, unmindful of the famous victory,
would ask, "How came it there? Who reared it? And what means it?"
The shattered pedestal of many a battle monument has provoked these
questions, when none could answer.

Turn we again to the fireside, and sit musing there, lending our ears
to the wind, till perhaps it shall seem like an articulate voice, and
dictate wild and airy matter for the pen. Would it might inspire me
to sketch out the personification of a New England winter! And that
idea, if I can seize the snow-wreathed figures that flit before my
fancy, shall be the theme of the next page.

How does Winter herald his approach? By the shrieking blast of latter
autumn, which is Nature's cry of lamentation, as the destroyer rushes
among the shivering groves where she has lingered, and scatters the
sear leaves upon the tempest. When that cry is heard, the people wrap
themselves in cloaks, and shake their heads disconsolately, saying,
"Winter is at hand!" Then the axe of the woodcutter echoes sharp and
diligently in the forest; then the coal-merchants rejoice, because
each shriek of Nature in her agony adds something to the price of coal
per ton; then the peat-smoke spreads its aromatic fragrance through
the atmosphere. A few days more; and at eventide, the children look
out of the window, and dimly perceive the flaunting of a snowy mantle
in the air. It is stern Winter's vesture. They crowd around the
hearth, and cling to their mother's gown, or press between their