false and discordant as the notes of one who THE FESTIVAL 

 should take up a violin and scrape away at OF THE SIGHT 

 random. 



All the varying aspects of nature are 

 strangely akin to music. They alike stir unsus- 

 pected depths, and we can understand why it is 

 that the great musicians have drawn so much 

 of their inspiration from nature, and why we so 

 naturally speak of "color" in music. 



There is "a gamut of pigments." There are 

 all the notes from high E to A minor. There 

 are all the movements from the simple melody 

 to the great oratorio. There is every mood of 

 the soul that ever musician dreamed about, 

 from triumphant hallelujahs to the sad notes 

 that lose themselves in mystery and silence. 



It is true, no one can tell it. It must be felt. 

 When I have heard a good orchestral perform- 

 ance I know how impossible it is to tell another 

 its perfection, for I cannot reproduce the 

 music. I can only hear it. It is just so with the 

 color harmonies in a garden. I cannot put a 

 warm glow into words. I cannot make a 

 diagram of it. I can only see it. 



That perfect symphony yonder, where Ma- 

 [65] 



