[Extract from an address on Ornamentation of Grounds, delivered before 1U. State Horticultural Society, by Dr. J. M. Gregory.]

FORTUNATELY in our land adornment, the number of available objects in which this element of beauty resides, is almost endless. The land itself, smoothed into the level lawn, swelling into soft undulation, or out into terraces in a thousand, combinations, flecked with shadows or sleeping in the pale or ruddy light is perpetually beautiful. The myriad forms of plant life, from the delicate mosses that deck the rugged rock as if to help it too, to look beautiful, and the little grasses, making in their very multitude the royal holiday attire of our good mother Earth, to the stately pine and the grand oak, uniting in their outlines and foliage every conceivable line of grace, and mingling every hue and tint of beautiful colors. All these offer ready to our hand a practical infinitude of beauty for our landscape work.

And the flowers, those reminiscences of Eden and prophecies of Heaven, the splendid children of the sun and the jewelry of the soil, what shall I say of them? Beautiful in form, beautiful in color, beautiful in arrangement, infinite in variety, endless in profusion, decking without reluctance the poor man's cot, brightening without pride the rich man's home, blooming with wild content in lonely forest glades and on the unvisited mountain sides, biasing without ambition in the public parks, shedding their fragrance without anxiousness in the chamber of sickness, cheering without reproach the poor wretch in prison cell, blushing in the hair of virtuous beauty and shedding without blush their beautiful light on the brow of her fallen sister, sleeping in the cradle with the innocent life of infancy, and blooming still in the coffin with the cold clay that remains after that life is spent, scattering their prophetis bloom through orchards and fields where robust industry prepares its victories, and lighting up the graveyards with their still undismayed promises, scorning no surroundings however humble or however sinful, flinging beauty in the wild wan-tonness of infinite abundance on the most precious and the most worthless things, they are God's incarnated smiles shed forth with a love that frightens our poor justice out of its wits, and with an infinite justice that puts our uttermost love to the blush, teaching us a theology better than the creeds, and a science better than the schools; at once mocking and stimulating our acts, kissing us when we fall, but refusing to let us lie quiet in our prostration, and perpetually urging upon the great heart of humanity, by their myriad and unending illustrations, the lesson of infinite trust in that divine Fatherhood which gives their splendor to the lilies and tells us that "Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these."

The Sermon Of The Flowers 280052