32 SYLVAN SECBETS. 



value of romantic suggestions, the power of 

 dim lines and mysterious shadows. She 

 sketches here, she indicates an effect yonder, 

 at one moment finishing the minutest details, 

 at another dashing a formless wonder on sky, 

 or sea, or mountain side, but she never stops 

 work to analyze motives or to call attention 

 to her methods. 



"Not with the skill of an hour, nor of a 

 life," reads my friend, " nor of a century, but 

 with the help of numberless souls, a beautiful 

 thing must be done." Ah, Mr. Ruskin, you 

 are right. By such a plan all creation has 

 been wrought. Nature knows it. With the 

 help of numberless energies the seed germi- 

 nates, the plant grows, the leaves leap forth, 

 and the flower flashes like a sun. What eons 

 of years it has taken to build a rose up from 

 the almost formless plant sketch set in the 

 ascient rocks ! What a slow process has been 

 the building of the present man up from the 

 man of the cave and the peat-bog ! Nature is 

 never in a hurry save when in a destructive 

 mood. She broods over her working plans 

 and saturates her materials with life from a 

 myriad sources before her dream begins to 

 take material form. Ruskin disputes himself, 

 however, and repudiates this doctrine pres- 

 ently, for he affects to despise the practical 

 part of paleontology and archaeology, and to 

 laugh at the scientists in general. Perhaps 

 he is in accord with nature here, too, for she 

 disputes herself and denies her acts, whenever 

 it can serve her turn, to say nothing of the 

 way she snubs the scientists. " Does not Mr. 

 Darwin show you that you can't wash the 

 slugs out of a lettuce without disrespect to 

 your ancestors? " reads my friend, and I see 

 a smile of deep satisfaction on his refined 



