e elegance in even the humblest home? We must of course
have cleanliness, which is the special elegance of the poor. But why not
have pleasant and delightful things to look upon? There is no reason why
the humbler classes should not surround themselves with the evidences of
beauty and comfort in all their shapes, and thus do homage alike to the
gifts of God and the labours of man. The taste for the beautiful is one
of the best and most useful endowments. It is one of the handmaids of
civilization. Beauty and elegance do not necessarily belong to the homes
of the rich. They are, or ought to be, all-pervading. Beauty in all
things,--in nature, in art, in science, in literature, in social and
domestic life.

How beautiful and yet how cheap are flowers. Not exotics,--but what are
called common flowers. A rose, for instance, is among the most beautiful
of the smiles of nature. The "laughing flowers," exclaims the poet! But
there is more than gaiety in blooming flowers, though it takes a wise
man to see the beauty, the love, and the adaptation, of which they are
full.

What should we think of one who had _invented_ flowers; supposing that,
before him, flowers were unknown? Would he not be regarded as the
opener-up of a paradise of new delight? should we not hail the inventor
as a genius, as a god? And yet these lovely offsprings of the earth have
been speaking to man from the first dawn of his existence until now,
telling him of the goodness and wisdom of the Creative Power, which bade
the earth bring forth, not only that which was useful as food,--but also
flowers, the bright consummate flowers, to clothe it in beauty and joy!

Bring one of the commonest field-flowers into a room, place it on a
table or chimneypiece, and you seem to have brought a ray of sunshine
into the place. There is a cheerfulness about flowers. What a delight
are they to the drooping invalid! They are like a sweet draught of
enjoyment, coming as messengers from the country, and seeming to say,
"Come and see the place where we grow, and let your heart be glad in our
presence."

What can be more innocent than flowers! They are like children undimmed
by sin. They are emblems of purity and truth, a source of fresh delight
to the pure and innocent. The heart that does not love flowers, or the
voice of a playful child, cannot be genial. It was a beautiful conceit
that invented a language of flowers, by which lovers were enabled to
express the feelings th