NATURE FOR ITS OWN SAKE 



The sunrise. 



Color* 

 under 



tuniight. 



rock, splashing it with a pale golden hue. At 

 once the hue begins to creep down from the 

 mountain-top, striking the oaks and cedars 

 one by one with yellow shafts until the whole 

 hill-side is mantled with its color. Swiftly the 

 light spreads to the valley, and in a few mo- 

 ments it falls upon the fields and meadows. Im- 

 mediately begins the phenomenon of light being 

 broken and obstructed by opaque bodies such 

 as hills and trees, and we have the effect of 

 light-and-shade. Immediately, too, the swift 

 vibration of those points of light productive of 

 color is increased, and we have the brilliant 

 hues that mark the earth under sunshine. 

 Every lake and stream and open sea warms in 

 color and glances the image of the sun, and 

 every hill-side and mountain-crag receives the 

 stain of gold. Not the great objects alone, but 

 the infinitely little, the pale wind-flower, the 

 lowly buttercup, the yellow-centred daisy, the 

 tiny violet, the leaf -whorl of the moss, all put 

 on their brightest garments, each one lifting 

 its head to the sun as the great glory of the 

 universe. 



As the sun rises higher the splendor becomes 

 more widely diffused. The color of the rose 

 leaps to a high pitch, the top of the willow is a 



