The natural divinity of trees, their fruit, the shelter they afford from the sun or bitter winds, their green leafy mystery, the sense of protection and consolation they bestow,-all this is felt more vividly in Eastern countries than in Northern climes, where people tend to drift away from earlier, simpler realities. Nature is not so near in England as in India. The cold which forces us to use our wits, shuts us in from many things.
So we have left phytomancy-the divination or speech of trees-and many other pretty things, now called by long names, behind us, and the garden, fond as we are of it, cannot talk to us as it can to Indian hearts which are still full of 'the intelligence of the flowers.' Krishna one day hid from his wife in the forest, and she wandered about seeking for him. Wherever she went down the long green glades, the trees drooped sadly, and the flowers hung their closed heads. At last she espied a tree in the direction of which a herd of fawns with large black eyes were grazing placidly, where the flowers looked bright and wide-awake, and birds were singing and flying happily from branch to branch; and there was Krishna fast asleep in the shade!
