shadings of all diverse hues ; the purple of the heath-clad mountains, the golden bloom 

 of the furze upon their lower slopes, the rich mosaic of the autumnal woods, the gray 

 of rocks and ruins, or the yellow of the waving corn-fields. Above, by night, he sees 

 the dark-blue expanse sparkling all over with the light of stars, or decked with a silvery 

 veil by the radiance of the moon; — by day, he sees it checkered and sailed over by 

 clouds, ever changing in aspect, and at length bursting into the gorgeous magnificence 

 of sunset, when clouds and sky are alike filled with richest coloring, with brilliant ever- 

 shifting hues, which at once dazzle and mock the gaze. All this is new to him. He 

 has walked the earth for years, tasted its fruits, fell and understood many of its forms, 

 — he has known how useful it is, but not till now does he comprehend its beauty. He 

 stands amazed at the spectacle which his new-born vision reveals to him ; the sights 

 are all strange, but not so the emotion which they produce in him. The same name- 

 less pleasure, the same indescribable sensation of enjoyment which now swells and 

 thrills within him, he has felt before, when listening to the strains of music, or when 

 some love-born joy has set the chords of his heart a-vibrating. It is a joyous excite- 

 ment; he nor any man can tell you more ; but he knows from previous experience that 

 it is a sign of the soul having found something in rare harmony with itself. 



A garden — or those graceful crystal pavilions which are now devoted to the culture 

 and display of fine exotic plants and flowers — is the place where beauty of color may 

 be seen in the greatest variety and perfection. There color is seen in peculiar gor- 

 geousness, and combined with so much else that is attractive, as to constitute flowers 

 but another name for the beautiful. The most distinguished of transatlantic writers,* 

 in a burst of enthusiasm, styles them "earth's raptures and aspirations — her better 

 moments — her lucid intervals." Certainly they are the lovely offspring of earth's 

 brightest hours ; and so ravishing are they, from the blended charms of brilliant color, 

 graceful form, and exquisite odor, that no one need wonder that they should be chosen 

 for so many sweet purposes of life, or to symbolise in the poetic regions of the South 

 the language and emotions of mankind. "The greatest men have always thought 

 inuch of flowers. Luther always kept a flower in a glass on his writing-table ; and 

 |When he was waging his great public controversy with Eckins, he kept a flower in his 

 hand. Lord Bacon has a beautiful passage about flowers. As to Shakspeare, he is 

 a perfect Alpine valley, — he is full of flowers; they spring, and blossom, and wave in 

 every cleft of his mind. Witness the Midsummer Night's Dream. Even Milton, 

 cold, serene, and stately as he is, breaks forth into exquisite gushes of tenderness and 

 fancy when he marshals the flowers, as in Lycidas and Comus.f 



Whatever be the subsidiary sources of attraction in flowers, color unquestionably is 

 the supreme one. Men often talk disparagingly of this kind of beauty, as if it were 

 something far lower in its nature than the beauty of form and sound, and indeed hardly 

 worthy of our regard at all. This is a great mistake, and is owing to the circumstance 

 either that the vast majority of mankind are little sensitive to any kind of beauty, or 

 because a certain fashion of speaking has led them insensibly to disregard this particular 

 manifestation of it. " Such expressions," says Mr. Ruskin, are used for the most part 

 in thoughtlessness; and if such disparagers of color would only take the pains to 

 imagine what the world and their own existence would become if the blue were taken 

 the sky, and the gold from the sunshine, and the verdure from the leaves, and the 



* Mrs. H. B. Stowb. 



t Mrs. H. B. Stowe. Sunny Mcmoriet. 



