NEWS OF SPRING 



privileged even in the midst of the strange and privileged 

 v^orld of flowers. And we ask ourselves if this new idea is a 

 profound and really necessary idea on the part of the sun, the 

 earth, life, autumn, or man. 



Yesterday, then, I went to admire the year's gentle and 

 gorgeous floral feast, the last which the snows of December 

 and January, like a broad belt of peace, sleep, silence and 

 oblivion, separate from the delicious festivals that commence 

 again with the germination, powerful already, though hardly 

 visible, that seeks the light in February. 



They are there, under the immense transparent domes, the 

 noble flowers of the month of fogs ; they are there, at the royal 

 meeting-place, all the grave Autumn fairies, whose dances and 

 attitudes seem to have been struck motionless with a magic 

 word. The eye that recognizes them and has learned to love 

 them perceives, at the first pleased glance, that they have 

 actively and dutifully continued to evolve towards their un- 

 certain ideal. Go back for a moment to their modest origin: 

 recall the poor buttercup of not so long ago, the humble little 

 blush-red or damask rose that still smiles sadly in the scanty 



[i6o] 



