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own; content to read, humbly and adoringly, in the meanest herb and the frailest flower given to me by nature's lavish hand, His power and might, who clothed them all in their wondrous beauty, and who bestowed on us the yet more wonderful senses, enabling us to see, admire, and enjoy it:—
Was it not ever one of nature's glories,
Nay, her great piece of wonder, that amongst
So many millions, millions of her works,
She gave the eye distinction to cull out
The one from other?
The last of my Summer sketches contains two of the Mallow family, flowers of the Lavatera Arborea; and, if grace of form or delicate beauty always received their merited praise, these fair things would have their poetic or legendary tale to tell. As it is, in these unjust times, I cannot conjure up one name of Bardic Chivalrie whose "troops of the line" may do efficient service to the flowers who are now my clients; for no mythological nor theological fables have yet contributed to render illustrious their genealogical tree. But their own welcome luxuriance and delicate beauty need no other claim on our admiration.
The Mallow is, in floral emblems, used to personify a "sweet disposition," and in that character, remembering all its other good and graceful qualities (and more than any flower possesses), it may well image to me the beloved and faithful friend, whose gentle hand laid upon my desk the originals of
