12 THROUGH GLADE AND MEAD. 
sunrise it presents one of its features; under the quiet 
of high noon, when 
“The grasshopper is silent in the grass, 
The lizard, with his shadow on the stone, 
Rests like a shadow, and the cicala sleeps, 
The purple flowers droop, the golden bee 
Is lily-cradled,” 
it presents another; and when the westering sun begins 
to cast long shadows over it, and ‘The lowing herd 
winds slowly o’er the lea,” and ‘‘The ploughman home- 
, 
ward plods his weary way,” there is still another, all 
diverse, and each having its peculiar charm and pro- 
ducing its own effect on the mind. In summer and in 
winter, in autumn and in spring, we find the same 
diversity. It is not a cyclorama crowded with pictures 
at which we may look for along time without exhaust- 
ing all their meaning; it is rather the moving panorama. 
In music we should say it is the same sweet strain set 
to infinite variations. 
There are two kinds of observation of Nature, one 
in which the results are expressed in technical language 
repelling the general reader, the other expressed in 
finished prose or poetry. The former is seen in the 
voluminous reports of learned societies and in govern- 
ment publications, exceedingly valuable in promoting 
the spread of knowledge; the latter is seen in the more 
