78 State HorticuUural Society. 



shadow the glorv of the resurrection? A tiny petunia seed is put into 

 the ground. How very small it is. One can scarcely see it unless his 

 vision is perfect, but it springs into life, develops strength and beauty, 

 and finally it is covered with ex([uisite flowers, dainty in coloring and 

 exhaling a sweet, subtle fragrance. 



''A seed is not quickened except it die." Shall not we hope to rise 

 from our graves as radiant and glorious as are the flowers of the field in 

 their transformation. Christ said to His disciples, "Ye are of more 

 value than many sparrows," and yet not one of these small creatures 

 falls to the ground unnoticed, and we are seriously bidden to consider 

 the lilies of the field. 



Offer to a child before it has been tainted by a knowledge of the 

 commercial spirit, a rose and a gold piece. Which will it choose ? Un- 

 failingly will it take the flower. There is kinship between the inn.,> 

 cent child and the blossom. Every young, pure soul loves flowers, not 

 some special bloom, but all flowers. The small denizen of the gutter ii) 

 crowded cities radiates as much at sight of a beautiful blossom as does 

 the pink and white darlings of the country village or farm house. Each 

 new soul that appears on this planet is linked by some strange invisible 

 tic to the floral kingdom. AVe naturally love flowers, from "the deli- 

 cate forest flow^ers, with scented breath, and look so like a smile," to the 

 gi'eat red Camelia shining in the gardens of opulence. 



The greatest mvsterv of all the manifold mvsteries is not death, it 

 is life. Life, life, everywhere, in the soil, above the soil, in the air, 

 vegetable, and animal life. Ealph Waldo Trine says, "AH life is God." 

 Should not we, then, be very careful what we say, and think concerning 

 this mystery ? 



The ethical value of flowers is determined by all that is highest and 

 l»est in the nature of man. As we are all in some mysterious manner 

 akin to the flowers, does not a contemplation of their loveliness some- 

 times cause the most sordid soul to sigh to 



"Leave the vain low strife, 

 Tliat makes men mad : 

 Tlie tug for wealth and power. 

 The passions and the cares that wither life. 

 And waste its little hour." 



