shows to us the queen of spring with her spherical form, her delicate colours, the beautiful green of her foliage, the thorns which protect her, the dew-drops which bathe her, and the butterfly which skims lightly over her beautiful form. "The beauty and grace that may be displayed in grouping flowers, united with the gayety of their colours, and the harmony of their tints, are objects well worthy the attention of those who were born to render life delightful." Nothing is forgotten in depicting them; and when we look upon the faithful representative, even in the depths of winter, we may fancy that we inhale the perfumes of spring. This study, in imparting a taste for all that is beautiful in nature, fills the soul with ravishing emotions, and opens before us the enchanted avenues of a world full of wonders." "Flowers," says Pliny, are the joy of the shrubs which bear them." This eminent observer of nature might also have added, "and of those who love them and cultivate them." The interpreters of our sweetest sentiments, flowers lend their charms even to love—to that pure and chaste affection, which, as Plato observes, is an inspiration from the gods. The expression of this divine passion ought to be divine also, and it was to illustrate this that flowers were ingeniously made emblematical of our most delicate sentiments; they do, in fact, utter in "silent eloquence" a language better than writing; they are the delicate symbols of the illusions of a tender heart and of a lively and brilliant imagination. In the glorious days of chivalry, the respectful lover oft made use of the sweet language of flowers. Gothic books are full of emblems composed of flowers; and we find, in the romance of Perceforét, that a garland of roses is the lover's treasure. We read also in that of Amadis, that Oriana, a prisoner who had neither the opportunity of speaking nor writing to her lover, apprised him of her misfortune by throwing, from the high tower in which she was confined, a rose bathed in her tears. What a charming expression of sorrow and of love! The Chinese have an alphabet composed entirely of plants and roots; and we may yet read upon the rocks of Egypt the ancient conquests over that people, recorded by foreign plants. This language is as old as the world, but its characters are renewed in each succeeding spring. Should a beautiful odalisk wish to avenge herself on a tyrant who has treated her with cruelty, she may, with a single floweret of the lily of the valley, thrown as by chance, inform a young icoglan, that the favourite sultana, weary of her tyrannous lord, wishes to inspire a sentiment of lively and pure affection. If he should return a rose, it would be as though he had said that reason was opposed to her projects; but a tulip, with a black heart, and flame-coloured petals, would assure her that her wishes were understood and partaken of. This is an ingenious mode of correspondence, which can never betray nor divulge a secret. This eloquent language gives a charm to the sweet intercourse of friendship, and to filial and maternal love; it adds to the delight of youthful affections, and affords an excellent mode of recognition. The unfortunate may even find a faithful messenger in a flower. Roucher, when in solitary confinement, consoled himself in studying the flowers which his daughter collected for him; and, a few days before his death, he sent her two dead lilies, to express, at the same time, the purity of his soul and the fate which awaited him. The poet Saadi, author of "Gulistan, or the Rose-Garden," engaged to break his chains by presenting a rose to the man who owned him as his slave. He said, "Do good unto thy servant while thou hast it in thy power, for the season of power is often as brief as the existence of this beautiful flower." The sentiments and emblems found in this volume are chiefly derived from the ancients and especially from Eastern nations. In pursuing the research, it has been found that time, instead of rendering their sentiments less appropriate, has confirmed their fitness, and continually added new charms to the language. Little study is necessary in the science here taught; nature has been before us. It will suffice that two or three rules be given, which the reader will do well first to learn, and then by reference to the work, which is systematically arranged for the purpose, he will be enabled to converse in the language of flowers. By the first rule, a flower presented inclining to the right, expresses a thought; reversed, it is understood to convey the contrary of that sentiment. For example:-A rosebud, with its thorns and leaves, is understood to say, "I fear, but I hope." The same rosebud reversed, would signify that "You must neither fear nor hope." You may convey your sentiments very well by a single flower. As the second rule, take the rosebud which has already served us for an example, and strip it of its thorns, it tells you that "There is everything to hope." Strip it of its leaves, it will express that "There is everything to fear." The expression of nearly all flowers may be varied by changing their position. Thus, the marigold, for example: placed upon the head, it signifies "distress of mind;" upon the heart, "the pairs of love;" upon the breast, "ennui." It is also necessary to know that the pronoun I is understood by inclining the flower to the right, and the pronoun thou by inclining it to the left. Such are the first principles of this mysterious language. Love and friendship ought to join their discoveries to render it more perfect: these sentiments, the most delightful in nature, are alone able to perfect what they have originated. OH! thou magic world of flowers, Hidden links of some fair sphere, Breathing of its hues of light, Seek we an emblem of our dreams, Half trembling on the tide: And once beneath the ploughshare wild, Thus should the cheek of beauty glow, With rose of brightest hue, LUCY HOOFER. THE POETRY OF FLOWERS AND FLOWERS OF POETRY ABSENCE. WORMWOOD. WORMWOOD is considered the bitterest of plants. Its scientific name, Absinthium, is derived from the Greek and signifieswithout sweetness. It is therefore very appropriately made the emblem of absence; which according to La Fontaine, is the greatest of evils. He told me he would come again When summer's last wild roses bloom, And when we parted in the glen The young houstonia shed perfume. I thought how many flowers must spring I could not bear that early thing Should not have faded long before. |