MAY. 131 



greatest, and when heard at still midnight, the moon 

 and stars above you, filling with lustre the clear 

 blue sky; the trees lifting up their young and varied 

 foliage to the silvery light; the deer quietly resting 

 in their thickest shadows ; and the night-breeze, ever 

 and anon, wafting through the air "Sabean odours;" 

 then, if you feel neither love nor poetry, depend upon 

 it you are neither lover nor poet. As, however, in 

 this country, nightingales are as capricious as the 

 climate, a good singing gentleman is no bad substi- 

 tute, as a friend of ours convinced us on such an 

 occasion, making the woods echo with the " Pibroch 

 of Dormel Dhu." 



FLOWERS. The return of May again brings 

 over us a living sense of the loveliness and delight- 

 fulness of flowers. Of all the minor creations of 

 God they seem to be most completely the effusions 

 of his love of beauty, grace, and joy. Of all the 

 natural objects which surround us they are the least 

 connected with our absolute necessities. Vegetation 

 might proceed, the earth might be clothed with a 

 sober green ; all the processes of fructification might 

 be perfected without being attended by the glory 

 with which the flower is crowned ; but beauty and 

 fragrance are poured abroad over the earth in 

 blossoms of endless varieties, radiant evidences of 

 the boundless benevolence of the Deity. They 

 are made solely to gladden the heart of man, for 

 a light to his eyes, for a living inspiration of 

 grace to his spirit, for a perpetual admiration. 

 And accordingly, they seize on our affections 

 the first moment that we behold them. With 



