of the optic nerves which serve to inform the mind concerning shape, distance, and character of all objects in the material world. We often speak of such a colour being beautiful, when we only mean that a pleasing sensation has been produced by a correct combination of colours; perhaps, such feelings scarcely admit of argument: yet, we believe, some connection or mixture of colours is sometimes absolutely offensive to the nervous system, whilst others are pleasing and stimulating; for instance, a mass of red with bright blue lines drawn across it, is so offensive that the primary pain may be compared to the offences sometimes given to the palate. It is true some of this pain or pleasure may be traced to association, which sometimes becomes most intense and operative. We must stay here, as we are on the confines of metaphysics, and will avoid the snare. Nature needs no sophistry or flattery, but is ever ready to tender her loveliness and imperishable charms to the virtuous and worthy. Her golden and silver radiance, with her soothing company of shades and shadows, are ever presenting themselves for occupation and the delight of association. What would anger be without shade, or love without light, or hope without colour? what would all these be without the waving lines in motion adapted to the expression? The artificial would totally extinguish the light of true beauty, and hide its excellence with dyes, oils, and cosmetics; they fear to trust their figures and faces to kind Nature, lest she should curtail them of some of the features of beauty. To such, a voice has said,—Go, thou fool, ask the rivers and counsel with the sunbeams; look in the rampant cataract, listen to the whisper of the breeze, and watch the hills decked with morning light or noontide rays. "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not
