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HE world we live in is a fairy land of exquisite beauty; our very existence is a miracle in itself; and yet few of us enjoy as we might, and none can as yet fully appreciate the beauties and wonders which surround us.

The greatest traveller cannot hope, even in a long life, to visit more than a very small part of our earth; and even of that which is under our very eyes how little we see! What we do see depends mainly on what we look for.

In the same field the farmer will see the crop, sportsmen the cover for game, geologists the fossils, botanists the flowers, the artist the colouring. When we look at the sky it is, in most cases, merely to see whether it is likely to rain. How slight an appreciation of colour most people have is shown by the fact that they often talk of "stone colour," just as if all stones were alike in this respect. "It is good," says Keble, "to have our thoughts lift up to that world where all is beautiful and glorious"; but it is well also to realise how beautiful this world is also.

It has, I know, been maintained—as, for instance, by Victor Hugo—that the general effect of beauty is to sadden:—"Comme la vie de l'homme, même la plus prospère, est toujours au fond plus triste que gaie, le ciel sombre nous est harmonieux. Le ciel éclatant et joyeux nous est ironique. La nature triste nous ressemble et nous console; la nature rayonnante, magnifique, superbe a quelque chose d'accablant."

This seems to me, I confess, a morbid view. On the other hand, there are, no doubt, many on whom the effect of natural beauty is to intensify feeling, to deepen melancholy, as well as to raise the spirits. As Mrs. Greg, in her interesting memoir of her husband, tells us:—

"His passionate love for nature, so amply fed by the beauty of the scenes around him, intensified the emotions, as all keen perception of beauty does, but it did not add to their joyousness. We speak of the pleasure which nature and art and music give us; what we really mean is that our whole being is quickened by the uplifting of the veil. Something passes into us which makes our sorrows more sorrowful, our joys more joyful—our whole life more vivid. So it was with him. The long, solitary wanderings over the hills; and the beautiful moonlight nights on the lake, served to make the shadows seem darker that were brooding over his home."

But surely to most of us Nature, when sombre or even gloomy, is soothing and consoling; when bright and beautiful, not