"And sorrowful things may be associated too?" said Ellen.
"Yes, and sorrowful things. But this power of association is the cause of half the pleasure we enjoy. There is a tune my mother used to sing I cannot hear it now without being carried swiftly back to my boyish days to the very spirit of the time; I feel myself spring over the green sward as I did then."
"Oh, I know that is true," said Ellen. "The camellia the white camellia, you know I like it so much ever since what you said about it one day. I never see it without thinking of it; and it would not seem half so beautiful but for that."
"What did I say about it?"
"Don't you remember? you said it was like what you ought to be, and what you should be, if you ever reached heaven; and you repeated that verse in the Revelation about 'those that have not defiled their garments.' I always think of it. It seems to give me a lesson."
"How eloquent of beautiful lessons all nature would be to us," said John, musingly, "if we had but the eye and the ear to take them in!"
"And in that way you would heap associations upon associations?"
"Yes; till our storehouse of pleasure was very full."
"You do that now," said Ellen. "I wish you would teach me."
"I have read precious things sometimes in the bunches of flowers you are so fond of, Ellie. Cannot you?"