t?

From this exhibition of man's power over the fruits of the earth and
the beasts of the field we cross a ravine where the forest is allowed
to disport itself in ignorance of his yoke, and ascend another
eminence where floral beauty, gathered from all quarters of the globe,
is fed in imprisonment on its native soil and breathes its native
climate. We predict that woman will seek her home among the flowers on
the hill rather than in the atelier specially prepared for her in the
valley we have passed. Her tremendous struggles through the mud, while
yet the grounds were all chaos, to get sight of the first plants that
appeared in the Horticultural Building, left no doubt of this in our
mind.

[Illustration: HORTICULTURAL HALL.]

No site could have been more happily chosen for this beautiful
congress-hall of flowers. It occupies a bluff that overlooks the
Schuylkill a hundred feet below to the eastward, and is bounded by the
deep channels of a pair of brooks equidistant on the north and south
sides. Up the banks of these clamber the sturdy arboreal natives as
though to shelter in warm embrace their delicate kindred from abroad.
Broad walks and terraces prevent their too close approach and the
consequent exclusion of sunlight.

For the expression of its purpose, with all the solidity and grace
consistent with that, the Moresque structure before us is not excelled
by any within the grounds. The curved roofs of the forcing-houses
would have the effect upon the eye of weakening the base, but that,
being of glass and showing the greenery within, their object explains
itself at once, and we realize the strong wall rising behind them and
supporting the lofty range of iron arches and fretwork that springs
seventy-two feet to the central lantern. The design of the side
portals and corner towers may be thought somewhat feeble. They and the
base in its whole circuit might with advantage have been a little more
emphasized by masonry. The porticoes or narrow verandahs above them on
the second story are in fine taste. The eruption of flag-poles is,
of course, a transient disease, peculiar to the season. They have no
abiding-place on a permanent structure like this, and will disappear
with the exposition.

Entering from the side by a neat flight of steps in dark marble, we
find ourselves in a gayly-tiled vestibule thirty feet square, between
forcing-houses each a hundred by thirty feet. Advancing, we enter
the great conservatory,