THE ARMY OF FLOWERS. 291 



of colors in the flowering plants, all emanating from the same soil, 

 the same culture and the same conditions in every respect, so far as 

 we can discern, there are no less an equal variety of scents emanating 

 from their bosoms, every distinctive variety having one peculiarly 

 its own. No botanist ever yet attempted to classify them or arrange 

 into groups the different kinds of odors, or give to them certain 

 names by which one class could be distinguished from another in the 

 relation they bear to the plants from which the Odors are extracted. 

 Their presence can only be known and detected by the delicate sense 

 of smell. 



Some of the most beautiful illustrations of record in the Bible 

 are drawn from the inspiration of flowers. Who does not feel their 

 refining influence, and shall the beauties of the landscape go un- 

 heeded? Flowers are said to be the footprints of the angels, sent 

 down to earth as messengers of mercy to proclaim peace and good 

 will to men, and, hence, must be immortal. No artist's pencil or 

 painter's brush could have marked out their delicate forms and per- 

 fected their colorings with such exquisite taste and finish — and their 

 perfume, what is it but the breath of the Creator ? Let me but live 

 in the midst of the flowers, and I shall not be far removed from 

 Heaven itself. 



When I look out upon that neat painted cottage, with its well 

 kept lawn and blooming beds of flowers, interspersed with shrubbery, 

 all drawn from nature's hand, a living work of Art Divine, I almost 

 envy the occupant of that home, knowing that it must be the abode 

 of culture and refinement as well as a place of beauty and a source 

 of delight to its possessor. 



The love of flowers is an inherent principle, born in our birth 

 and nurtured with our growth, extending through our lives and 

 ceasing only when we cease to exist and are laid aside. 



Some time ago a little girl, not more than nine or ten years of 

 age, came to my house and said to me : "Mister, please, can I have 

 some flowers ? My father is dead." I enquired her name and w^iere 

 she lived, and also learned that her people were poor. So I gave her 

 the flowers, for which she seemed to be thankful. Some little time 

 after, she came again and said: "Mister, please, can I have some 

 flowers ? My little baby brother is dead." "Certainly, you shall have 

 flowers to carry home to your dear little brother." But imagine my 

 surprise, when in a little while after she returned again and said: 

 "Mister, please, can I have some flowers ? My sister is dead." "Well 

 now, it seems to me, your family is dying very fast. I will just go 

 back home with you, and then I will see what can be done." But like 



