152 BIRDS AND MAN 



of tulips, or scarlet geraniums, or blue larkspurs, 

 or destested calceolarias or cinerarias — a great 

 patch of coloured flame springing out of a square 

 or round bed of grassless, brown, desolate earth 

 — the effect is more than disagreeable : the mass 

 of colour glares at and takes possession of me, and 

 spreads itself over and blots out a hundred delicate 

 and prized images of things seen that existed in 

 the mind. 



But I am going too far, and perhaps making 

 an enemy of a reader when I would much prefer 

 to have him (or her) for a friend. 



I have named few flowers, and those all the most 

 familiar kinds, because it seemed to me that many 

 examples would have had a confusing effect on 

 readers who do not intimately know many species, 

 or do not remember the exact colour in each case, 

 and are therefore unable to reproduce in their 

 minds the exact expression — the feeling which every 

 flower conveys. On the other hand, the reader 

 who knows and loves flowers, who has in his mind 

 the distinct images of many scores, perhaps of 

 two or three hundreds of species, can add to my 

 example many more from his own memory. 



There is one objection to the explanation given 

 here of the cause of the charm of certain flowers, 



