if we are not, the sublimity vanishes in the sense of fear. An inspiring interest is often awakened by the way being seemingly shut in by forbidding heights, which, however, open as we advance, and exciting our curiosity as to what is to be disclosed.

Beauty of Trees. A boy gets hold of a fir cone; he reckons it a prize and feels a pleasure in contemplating it. He cannot tell how it should interest him, but the scientific man should be able to say. He handles it and turns it round and round, and preserves it among his toys, and brings it out from time to time to gaze on it. The scientific observer may easily notice that around its surface are two sets of spiral whorls, one going to the right and the other to the left, each to carry the eye round the cone, and that they cross each other and produce regular rhomboidal figures, which differ in each species of plant. The boy does not observe all this, but he is impressed with the general regularity, and with the special forms, with the unity and variety, and with the proportions and harmony, and an incipient æsthetic feeling is started.

The order seen so easily and clearly in the fir cone also appears, though less obviously and with greater complexity, on the tree, and is meant to be noticed by fullgrown boys. Every fir-tree, indeed every coniferous plant, tends to take a definite form, and that form is the same as that of its cone, that is, conical, with the branches lengthening till they produce a graceful swell and then shortening till they come to a point. The carefully observant eye will notice that the leaves go round the stem and the branches round the trunk, as the scales do round the cones, in two sets of spirals crossing each other. But in order to our being impressed with the beauty of the tree it is not necessary to notice all this scientifically, it is enough that we have a general perception of the har mony.

Coming now to the leafy trees, we will at once notice that every tree bears a leaf after its kind; and you cannot by any artifice make any tree bear a leaf of a different kind, make an elm bear the leaf of an oak. All these have a beauty of some kind, a graceful curvature of outline, and a correspondence of side to side, even when the two sides are not alike, there being a counterpoise to the inequality. Then it can be shown that every tree is apt, if not interfered with, to take the form of its leaf. Thus some leaves have leaf stalks shorter or longer while others have none; and it will be found that the trees on which the first class grow have an unbranched trunk shorter or longer, whereas the others have none, but are bushy from the base. It can be shown that the angle at which the branches go off from the stems is the same as that at which the veins go off from the leaf, and that the curvilinear outline of the tree and of every branch is much the same as that of the leaf. I mention these things to show that there is an observable order in the shape and structure of every tree, in the arrangement of its branches and its contour, which at once impresses the observer, and calls forth an impression which deserves to be called æsthetic. A normally formed tree in winter covered with frostwork, and with the outline fully exposed, is felt by all to be a beautiful object.

Mountains. These, as we look up to them, elevate the mind as well as the eye. Some cannot gaze on a mountain top without an almost irrepressible ambition to ascend it. As we mount we are ever turning round to get glimpses of the scene below, and when we reach the summit we do not care to repress the inclination to shout. How interesting now to look round and behold the brotherhood of mountains and the multitudinous hills, each standing boldly in its place and eager to show its special

shape and maintain its position! We are awed as we look down the precipices, and yet we feel all the while how stable these rocks on which we stand are, and how deep their foundations. We peer into the crevices wondering what is concealed in them, and penetrate the ravines not knowing what we may meet with. We follow the windings of the valleys as they sweep down, each one gathering a stream to form a river. How pleasant to notice the plains below, and the scattered dwellings, evidently with living men and women within them. The dwellers in mountain regions have a more vivid remembrance of their country than those who have been brought up in commonplace plains, think of it more frequently, and have a greater desire to return to it. The shepherds, such as those of ancient Judea and of Scotland, are often addicted to reflection. The hunters have a spirit of enterprise called forth by their employments. Mountain tops are felt to be places for adoration : God's law is fitly proclaimed there, and He comes down there to meet with the worshipers.

Water-falls. If you visit a water-fall do it leisurely that association of ideas may have full play. It is usually in a broken, wild scene, and we may let our thoughts run wild, as a boy let loose on a holiday excursion. We hear the roar of the falling water: let it guide us. The first view of the scene gives us the idea of a mysterious convulsion which has taken place, we know not how or when, but of which we see the effects indicating vast power. Let us approach the cataract from below that it may overawe us. But in surveying it minutely let us go at once to where it is rushing on to its destination, and let us observe it taking the leap so determinedly as if it must take it, as if it took it with a purpose, and mark that as it does so it glories in its courage and

strength. We may then survey it from beneath. We see that it thrashes on the rock with a power which we cannot resist, and vainly try to estimate. Having performed its feat you observe how it calms itself in the pool it has formed, and then glides away so peacefully. You now look up and around. The scene is horrific, but it is relieved by scenes of beauty, by the spray sparkling in the sunshine, or gilded by the rainbow colors, and by these flowers and ferns getting nourishment in the crevices and furnishing drapery of exquisite beauty. We may now sit down, and we feel secure as we see the whole guarded by these turreted towers evidently set as battlements to defend it, and we allow our thoughts to run on, and as they do so fill the mind with ideas of power and feelings of wonder.

The Ocean as seen from the shore is characterized by restlessness; "it cannot rest." It is in perpetual motion, and casts forth as wrecks the objects that have intruded into its domain. As we sail upon it we are impressed with its immensity. At times it is the very image of rest and placidity. Yet we feel that it may awake at any time from its slumbers and raise its mountain waves to overwhelm, and show its yawning gulfs to swallow us. It has its beauties in the dark hue of its deep, and the cerulean of its shallow waters, in its crested foam and its spray. It has an infinite variety in its moods and in its expressions, as now it plays and smiles and laughs, and again is dark and sullen, angry and chafing. We are constrained to look upon it with a feeling of awe. The ideas it raises are of boundlessness and irresistible power, rousing the feeling of the sublime from the lowest depth of our nature.

The Human Frame. The highest style of beauty is to be found in man and woman. A beauty may be dis

cerned in the forms of the human body, in its symmetry, its proportions, in its angles, and in its curves. There are tints and hues which are felt to be pleasant by the optic organism. But these are, after all, the lowest elements in the beauty of the human frame. There may be a grace in the attitude assumed, in the walk, and in the manner. But the highest æsthetic power is to be found in the Expression. This may be seen in the motion and action, as showing activity, life, and strength. But it is displayed most fully in the countenance, as indicating mind or disposition, as indicating force or resolution, or refinement, or intelligence, or fire, or spirit, or gentleness and love. We gaze on certain countenances with delight, and feel as if we could gaze on them forever. The beauty appreciated will depend on the mental association of the race, the country, or the individual. The beauty of the Negro or the Indian will not be regarded so favorably by the white man. There is truth in the idea of Sir Charles Bell, that the typical form of a race is the model beauty in the estimation of that race. In all cases the emotion is made more intense when the tender passion suffuses through the whole. In many cases there may be no inward disposition corresponding to the outward signs as we have interpreted them. "Fair but false" has been the complaint of lovers in all ages. Still we cannot thereby be rid of the association even though we know on reflection that there is no moral quality; we still look with admiring interest on that countenance which is so full of mirth, joyousness, quickness, love, or tenderness.