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in flowers as in stones; and often do their fair lips speak as eloquently as "tongues in trees, or books in the running brooks."
The beautiful Commeline, whose bright celestial blue I have attempted to account for by a fanciful fairy-tale, well merits its name Cœlestis, for of all the blue flowers of garden or greenwood, this wears the clearest and brightest tint. It is pure ultramarine, and the delicate cruciform anthers of vivid yellow, with the peculiar construction of the whole flower, give it a most elegant and gay appearance. The individual flowers are short-lived; opening at sunrise, they fade in the intense heat of noon, and shrivel away, being succeeded by others, closely hidden in the large green sheath until ready to expand, and reminding one of little half-fledged birds in a nest.
The small Convolvulus, represented in the same plate with the Commeline, is a very common species: it does not attain nearly the height of the large white Bindweed, but creeps plentifully about banks, hedges, and fields, twining round bents of grass, or any thing capable of lending support to its circling stems. The small and graceful flowers are tinged with faint and deeper shades of pink, like the inside of some delicate tropical shells, which they almost resemble as they peep from the footpaths we are treading on.
The splendid Passion-Flowers next demand our notice in these remarks on the subjects selected for pictorial and
