Let us now consider for a moment, what would be the aspect of nature, if, instead of the beautiful variety of embellishments which now appear on every landscape, and on the concave of the sky,--_one_ uniform colour had been thrown over the scenery of the universe. Let us conceive the whole of terrestrial nature to be covered with snow, so that not an object on earth should appear with any other hue, and that the vast expanse of the firmament presented precisely the same uniform aspect. What would be the consequence? The light of the sun would be strongly reflected from all the objects within the bounds of our horizon, and would produce a lustre which would dazzle every eye. The day would acquire a greater _brightness_ than it now exhibits, and our eyes might, after some time, be enabled freely to expatiate over the surrounding landscape; but every thing, though enlightened, would appear _confused_, and particular objects would scarcely be distinguishable. A tree, a house or a church, near at hand, might possibly be distinguished, on account of its elevation above the general surface of the ground, and the bed of a river by reason of its being depressed below it. But we should be obliged rather to guess, and to form a conjecture as to the particular object we wished to distinguish, than to arrive at any certain conclusion respecting it; and if it lay at a considerable distance, it would be impossible, with any degree of probability, to discriminate any one object from another. Notwithstanding the universal brightness of the scene, the uniformity of colour thrown on every object, would most certainly prevent us from distinguishing a church from a palace, a cottage from a knoll or a heap of rubbish, a splendid mansion from rugged rocks, the trees from the hills on which they grow, or a barren desert from rich and fertile plains. In such a case, human beings would be confounded, and even friends and neighbours be at a loss to recognize one another.