THE CHRISTIAN LADY'S MAGAZINE. JULY, 1835. CHAPTERS ON FLOWERS. THAT dear little modest flower, the Jessamine, with its milk-white blossoms half hid in the masses of cool refreshing green, used to adorn the most limited spot, in the shape of a garden, that ever I was confined to, as a promenade. It was, in fact, merely a gravelled walk, raised to the height of a couple of steps above the level of the paved court, which formed the rear of some premises where I was an inmate. The further side, and the extremities of this walk were bounded by an exceedingly high wall; and nothing could have been more ruefully sombre, or more widely removed from any approach to the picturesque, had not the old wall possessed a mantle of Jessamine, the most luxuriant that I remember ever to have seen. The slender branches had mounted nearly to its summit; then, finding no farther arti B |