A fitful climate is ours, and it seems to grow more and more so every year. Some ten or fifteen years ago only, we reckoned upon such and such sorts of weather at certain periods of the year, especially during the fall and winter, with considerable certainty. We were able, in advance, to shape our course and trim our sail to suit the season of the year, and we were rarely disappointed. But latterly our calculations are all at fault, and we begin to feel that although we have studied our climate long and closely, we know very little about it, or that the little we do know affords us but a very uncertain guide in providing for the future.

This, the 10th day of January, 1858, is mild and sunny as the first day in April. The Christmas Rose (Helleborus niger) is in full bloom in the border; Pansies are turning their cheerful faces to the sun, and if such weather continues, we shall expect the Crocuses to be pushing up and unfolding their gay petals. Yesterday a gentleman told us he saw robins in his garden hopping joyously around, apparently cheated into the belief that winter was over, or rather that it had forgotten to come. Draining, trenching, planting, and other out-door work, has been carried on to this time, with a few slight interruptions.

How different from last winter! It took us all by surprize. November had not fairly closed before we northerners were fairly ice-bound. Many of our tender plants were unhoused and unprotected; our autumn work was not more than half done. For a while people consoled themselves with the hope that it was only a squall and would soon break up; but it remained steadfast and grew more and more severe, until we were all exclaiming - uThe coldest winter within our recollection." We are all apt to profit by experience, and especially by dearly bought experience. Hence, last autumn, along about the middle of November, there was such a preparation for winter as was never seen before. Plants were snugly housed; not a flaw in the glass, nor a crevice in the walls, but was securely stopped. Half hardy trees, unacclimated foreigners, were to be seen muffled up as though they were bound upon a visit to the regions of eternal snow.

These variations of climate, although attended with some difficulties, and frequently blight some favorite project, are not without their good. They arouse our energies, compel us to study, reflect and observe, with a spirit of perseverance that cannot fail to increase our stock of knowledge and multiply our resources. The memorably hard winter of 1851-2 taught us some lessons in horticulture that will not soon be forgotten. If the present winter continues as mild as it so far has been, or comparatively so, it will also teach us something. We have found that extremes of either heat or cold, rain or drouth, cloud or sunshine, are great teachers to those who cultivate the earth. Let us keep our eyes open and profit by what Providence wisely ordains to teach us wisdom, humility, and patience.