It is in such moments as these that our unity with Nature is most strongly felt and our co-partnership with the elements realized. We are as much a part of the great and wonderful universe as the stars or the clouds, the mountains or the sea. Thus may the storm spirit embrace our spirit as the wind and rain and snow encircle our bodies. If the invisible and visible parts of our being be both equally prepared to face the elements, we shall return from our encounter with them exalted in mind and refreshed in body; with new life in our veins, and in our hearts new wonder at the beauty of Nature in her wilder moods. Anne Wakely Jackson. The snow-plumed angel of the north Has dropped his icy spear; Again the mossy earth looks forth, Again the streams gush clear. —John Greenleaf Whittier. THE VIOLET. With the exception of the rose, no other plant is so widely distributed and at the same time so universally admired as the Violet. Not alone is it esteemed because of its beauty and fragrance, but a wealth of romance, of historical associations and mythical lore have clustered around the purple blossoms, endearing them to the poet and scientist alike. The Violet was formally baptized with the ancient Latin name Viola in 1737. Since that time, by some strange oversight, botanists have allowed the name to remain unchanged. Two hundred and fifty species of the Violet have been described, although a more careful study of the genus has reduced the number to one hundred or more species. Three-fourths of these forms are found in the temperate Northern Hemisphere and the balance in the Southern. Under these diverse conditions of growth the plants assume many seemingly unnatural characteristics. Thus, in Brazil a species of Violet is eaten like spinach, while others found in Peru are violent purgatives. Among certain Gaelic tribes the plants are highly esteemed as a cosmetic, and the ancients largely used the flowers to flavor wines. Whatever other attributes a plant may possess, it is predestined in large measure to waste its fragrance on the desert air, unless it catches the fancy of the minstrel or tips the bolts that fly from Cupid’s bow. In fact, the Violets were originally white, until they were accidentally struck by Cupid’s dart, which was hurled at Diana, and since then the petals have been “purple with love’s wounds.” Hence Shakespeare calls the Violet “Cupid’s flower of purple dye.” Another reason for the change from white to purple is found in the jealousy of Venus, who, envious of Cupid’s admiration of the purity of the flowers, changed them all to blue.