(XXIV) 
prized as it was, when copied upon Egyptian architrave, would wisely guard us 
against the unseemly dolce far niente of the sybarite and the groveling sensual¬ 
ism of the epicure. The fungi, the parasites, even the mistletoe, the somewhat 
exaggerated Upas, the various poisonous growths, that flower of most brilliant 
hues, but with no odor—like that bird of showiest plumage, yet without a song 
to blend in unison with the many-voiced chorus of universal nature—each class 
will instruct, directly and indirectly, in more ways than one and so obviously that 
he “who runs, may read.” And over these, as well as over their previously men¬ 
tioned, welcome mates, we may well ponder the words of our Divine Preceptor, 
relative to the manner and motive of human endeavors, as we sow or plant for 
ourselves or others: “Unless the grain of wdieat falling into the ground, die, 
itself remaineth alone. But if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit;”—“Every 
planting which My Heavenly Father hath not planted, shall be rooted out;” and 
those other words of the inspired Preacher, spoken three thousand years ago, 
“There is a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what hath been planted.” Qui 
potest capere, capiat. 
Now, if there be one personally practical Lesson more than another which 
is taught us by the Plants, and especially by the Flowers,—a Lesson oft-recurring 
—it is Cheerfulness, natural and supernatural Cheerfulness. This happy 
frame of disposition necessarily includes, as a series of causes and effects, gentle¬ 
ness, friendliness, urbanity, forgivingness, and, to say all in one word, charitable¬ 
ness. Oh! how the very presence, the mere sight of Flowers and Plants, con- 
tendedly growing and noiselessly exhaling their sweet lives for our comfort and 
delight, should make us at once buoyant, reposeful, and kind; cause us to banish 
all 
“Melancholy, 
Doomed, with her leaden eyes, to love the ground—” 
bringing us, through added graces,‘to forget the petty cares and qualms, the con¬ 
tentions within ourselves or with others, which serve only to disturb, to annoy, 
to worry! 
“We look up to the stars, and they mock not our grief; 
We gaze on the Flowers—to find instant relief.” 
And just as the summer evening wind, softly soughing from our south, 
toys gently with the fragile sprays of the rose-tree, and then as quietly passes on; 
so will the soothing zephyr of cheerfulness, as though sweeping over some floral 
mosaic, mildly ply and tranquilize human character, inclining us to deal lightly 
