MORAL OF FLOWERS. 
57 
And is not a Flower “ a thing of beauty ?”— 
is it not a thing of surpassing loveliness ? Who 
can gaze on its exquisitely perfect form, its un¬ 
rivalled brilliancy of hue, without a thrill of 
admiration, and a sensation of pleasure ?— 
pleasure which passeth not away, but dwelleth 
on the memory like a pleasant perfume, that 
remains long after the object from whence it 
emanated has perished ; and why is this ? 
because of its purity, its freedom from aught 
that is gross and therefore perishable. None, 
we venture to aver, can gaze on those beautiful 
u alphabets of creation,” those adorners of 
earth’s bosom, unmoved, but such as have hearts 
utterly corrupted, and rendered impervious to 
every sweet and gentle impression; and even 
such will at times feel stirring within them at 
the sight, thoughts that have long slumbered, 
and awakened by those u silent monitors,” the 
“ still small voice of conscience” is heard, in¬ 
citing them to shake off the trammels of guilt, 
and return to the ways of pleasantness and 
peace, wherein their feet once trod, when— 
