C 7 ALBERT R. MANN LIBRARY AT CORNELL UNIVERSITY THE GIFT OF Isabel Zucker class '26 ELISABETH WOOD BURN Books on Garden, Farm & Home - Booknoll Farm Hopewell, New Jersey llll f Yiie Tage 135 . THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH i AFFECTION’S SIGNALS. BY THE LATE CAPTAIN MARRY ATT, R.N. AUTHOR OP “PETER SIMPLE,” &0. LONDON: SAUNDERS AND UTLEY, CONDUIT-STREET. MftVLLX a tJV £ ^ &R 7 VO 7735 " THE EDITOR’S PREFACE. I have undertaken the editing of Mr. Honeycomb’s papers with no common degree of satisfaction. Of his character, I must be permitted to say a few words. Those who know him not, or know him but imperfectly, record him, in their es¬ timation, as a rich, shy, and singular old gentleman, a little given to prose upon due encouragement, and remark¬ able for always selecting an excellent subject — himself. Those who have been honoured by his intimacy will joyfully acknowledge IV THE EDITOR'S PREFACE. his claims to much beyond this. Bash¬ ful he certainly is, and much given to solitary strolling and absent musings ; and also, it must be confessed, like most bashful men, when he has once broken down the barrier that his timidity places before his social yearnings, he will con¬ verse somewhat profusely and diffusely ; and if he does, upon those occasions, make rather a liberal use of the pro¬ noun I, with its objective me, all who thoroughly understand him will be grate¬ ful for it. In all other respects, he is a gen¬ tleman of an excellent understanding, improved and refined by considerable THE EDITOR’S PREFACE. V literary attainments, of a generous and confiding disposition, and of the gentlest heart that ever throbbed in a human bosom in sympathy with another’s dis¬ tress, or that ever panted fervently to relieve it. He is a man of unlimited capa¬ bilities of kindliness, loving his neigh¬ bour more than himself, and the ladies most of all. Indeed, as regards the fair, he seems to have concentrated all the sex into one magnificent idea, a resplen¬ dent idol, to which he has ever bent knee, and which he has ever worshipped. It is to this generalization of attach¬ ment, and infinity of adoration, that I impute that he is now a hale and gal- VI THE EDITOR’S PREFACE. lant bachelor, at the manly age of three¬ score years and three. Of the account that he gives of him¬ self and his unearthly visitation, I will hazard no opinion, excepting that, altoge¬ ther, it is a most miraculous affair. Even conceding to the sceptics that have so much annoyed him, that the events he relates were nothing but the impressions of a long hallucination, attendant upon illness, it must be acknowledged as a singular phenomenon in physiology. Of the reality of his interview and conference with a preternatural being, he is himself fully persuaded. The in¬ vention, with the numerous Vocabulary THE EDITOR’S PREFACE. vii consequent upon it, I will pledge myself, never originated with Mr. Honeycomb. Indeed, the original manuscript was a queer black letter affair upon musty parchment, I mean that part that he avers to have received from Floribel. I have only to observe that, wherever the deception lay, if deception there be, which I much doubt, it has produced an amusing book, the herald of a singu¬ larly curious invention, for which every lady in the kingdom will thank Mr. Honeycomb. In revising my old friend’s papers, my editorial labours have been light, and confined merely to the striking out of via the editor’s freface. expletives, and the expunging digres¬ sions, particularly about himself. If, however, the reader should find that I have permitted a single idea, like a will¬ ing horse imposed upon, to carry double, or even triple sentences by way of riders, I humbly trust that it will be conjectured, that, if I had endeavoured to dismount one of the intruders, that I should not only have hazarded the fall of both, but even have run the risk of causing the gallant steed himself to stumble. MR. HORACE HONEYCOMB'S DEDICATION TO THE FAIREST OF THE FAIR, THE FAIR OF ENGLAND, IRELAND, AND WALES. Sovereign Ladies ; at your feet I fling My subject self: and, though I am but one. Such vast excess of fealty I bring To your fair millions, you shall find I’ve done To each a million’s homage; therefore shun Nor me, nor my heart-offerings ; but deign On the few sands that I have yet to run X DEDICATION. To smile, and make them gold ; then, not in vain Have I for you endured, and glorified your reign. For, ye are queens, all, all. Each has a throne In one or many hearts; therefore, ’tis meet Tribute to bring to you, and you alone. Empresses of Life’s pleasures! at your feet I place my little book. Your suppliant greet With one approving glance, so shall my fate Be blessed all men’s above; for, ’t is most sweet Triumph to gain that eometh over-late; For you I’ve liv’d, I live, to you I dedicate DEDICATION. XI What yet of life is mine and this small tome. It treats of Flowers, and of their mystic lore, Love’s lore and their’s; and of the sylphs that roam Unseen of man, and, all unknown before. It gives a Language without Words ; to soar Beyond the mean it teaches, and it shows How Love may reign triumphant, as of yore ; How two fond hearts in one embrace may close. And Virtue turn to bliss, and laugh to scorn her foes. And will it not find favour in your sight, Best Flowers of God’s creation? Oh, it will! Xll DEDICATION. So may your youthful bloom be ever bright. Your noon-da)' glorious, clear, and sweetly still Your later hours; so may every ill Be far from you, and from all those who look Tenderly on you, for your praise shall fill The noblest cup of bliss that man e’er took. Nor shall mine enemy joy “ because I’ve made a book.” EXPLANATION OF THE FLATES. PLATE I. Frontispiece, Vide page 135. PLATE II. The centre groupe represents the Flowers tied to¬ gether as a Bouquet; the surrounding circle as untied and laid open. The Flowers are of the Summer season. The two first knots indicate that the Vocabulary Part II. is about to be employed. The Bay represents Figure 9, Vide p. 139. The Verbena ---0,-139. Together, 90, the No. appropriated to the words “ To-morrow,” in the Vocabulary, Part IT. The two knots then repeated indicate that the Vocabulary Part II. is still employed. The Orange Flower represents Figure 6, Vide p. 130. The Verbena -- -0,-139. Together, 60, the No. appropriated to the word “Night,” in the Vocabulary, Part II xlv PLATES. The two knots then again repeated indicate as before. The Myrtle represents Figure 1, Vide p. 138. The Amaranth-9,-139. Together, 19, the No. appropriated to the word “ between,” in the Vocabulary, Part II. The two knots then again repeated indicate as before. The Mignonette represents Figure 1, Vide p. 138. The Moss Rose - — 0,-139. Together, 10, from the Numerals appropriated to the Hours in the beginning of the Vocabulary, Part II. A single knot is then used indicating that the Vo-» cabulary Part 1. is that now employed. The Heath represents Figure 3, Vide p. 138. The China Rose -8,-139. Together, 38, the No. appropriated to the word “ and,” in the Vocabulary, Part I. Two knots are then again used,'indicating as before. The Myrtle represents Figure 1, Vide p. 138. The Mignonette - 1 , -138. Together, 11, from the Numerals appropriated to the Hours in the beginning of the Vocabulary, Part II. The entire sentence then reads thus: To-morrow night between 10 and 11. 90, Vocabulary 60 , Vocab. 19, Vocab. Numerals 38, Vocab. Numerals Part II. Part II. Part II. Vocab. Parti. Vocab. Part II. Part II. PLATES. XV PLATE III. The explanation given of Plate II. will apply through¬ out. The sentence signified is ShAI.L YOU BE AT AlMACk’s NEXT WEDNESDAY. 197, Vocabulary 1, Vocabulary 59, Vocab. 99, Vocabulary Parti Partin. Part II. Part II. PLATE IV. The sentence signified is We shall be at home this EVENING. 191, Vocabulary Part I, 33, Vocabulary 84, Vocabulary Part II. Parti. 28, Vocabulary Part II. I SHALL BE 189, Vocabulary Part I. PLATE V. The sentence signified is AT No. B3 AFTER THE OPERA. Numerals, Vocab. 30, Vocabulary Part II. Part I. 5, Vocabulary Part III. PLATE VI. The name Flora, in Flowers, used as single letters from the beginning of the Vocabulary Part I. THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. CHAPTER I. Which showeth how the Author fell into a reverie, and what thence fell out. “Miracles will never cease.” The absurd exclamation ! There is but one only and all-pervading miracle— that of the boundless and beneficent creation of the Author of all Good. If Matter has its discovered and undiscovered myriads, which have a B THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 9 living existence, shall we deny the same privilege to Spirit ? Why should not, at this very moment, gorgeous hosts of etherialized beings be hover- o ing around me unseen, and hymning out their joy and their gratitude to the Divine Intelligence, though mor¬ tal organs are too gross to catch the delicious harmonies ? Let us try the question upon analogy. That this immensity of heavenly though invisible population should rather exist than not, “all Nature cries aloud through all her works/’ and Reason approves the cry. But are these spiritualized essences ever audible, visible, palpable, to flesh THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. on this side of mortality? But a little while ago, and I thought not. I have had a most curious occasion for changing my opinion. I am convinced that when Shakspeare and Pope dis¬ coursed so sweetly upon Fays and Faeries, Sylphs and Sylphids, they had had, like myself, some actual manifestation of these sublimated existences. Ladies, start not ; suppress for a moment the smile of incredulity, that hardly becomes your beautifully- curved lips; and, with the conde¬ scension that looks so heavenly from female grace, listen and judge. This little book, which I, with an adoration 4 THE FLOltAL TELEGRAPH. that trembles while it burns, lay at your feet, is the offspring and the proof of a gentle supernatural agency; and, should this volume bear upon it too strongly the taint of earth, it must have acquired this mark of debase¬ ment by passing through my all too unworthy hands. It was on the 25th of last June, in the year of our Redemption, 1835, that I was sojourning, for a space, at the country-seat of my worthy old friend, Sir Aldobrand Belamour, se- cludedly but romantically situated in the south of Devon. It was about four hours that the sun had been journey¬ ing towards his dark green forest-bed THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 5 in the far west, when I strolled into the spacious Flower-Garden of my hospitable host, unattended by aught save the gentle suggestions that were crowding on my imagination, and springing up so rapidly from the beau¬ tiful scene around me. I was far from thinking of faery visitations, or of ghostly greetings from existences in which the mortal and the immortal are so delicately blended. I had no occasion to appeal to the ideal for heart-triumphings, so delicious when we feel ourselves, as it were, alone with our Maker, and with the beauti¬ ful among His works. The real, in all the simplicity of their glory, were b 3 6 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. around me. I wandered quietly, hap¬ pily, and gratefully, from Flower-bed to Flower-bed — for, in that fragrant solitude, I never found myself less solitary. At length, in my musings, I ap¬ proached a Time-crushed and yet a Time-embellished wall. If the old Destroyer had thrown down some stones, he had covered his injuries with festoons of his own graceful ivy. Of a truth, he had, with his invincible teeth, been gnawing away the battle- mented top ; but he had crowned it also with splendid coronals of Flowers; and, wherever it was not covered with verdure, it was coated with moss. Of THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 7 this wall I had not before known the existence. I traversed some portion of its length, and I then found a mas¬ sive wooden door, crumbling to dust with neglect and age. I was about to explore this terra in¬ cognita, when Sir Aldobrand’s white- headed gardener accosted me, respect¬ fully holding his hat in his hand, who informed me that the enclosure had been the favoured Flower-Garden of his master’s grandfather; that it had been closed up for nearly a hundred years, mortal foot, for that space, never having invaded its solitude. Ladies, it is not my intention to write a Romance. I am dealing with facts. 8 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. I shall, therefore, omit his version of the story of infanticide with which the worthy servant horrified my bosom, and which, he said, was the occasion of its perpetual seclusion from the haunts of men. He finished his tale by intimating to me decidedly, but in the most deferential manner, that he was of opinion that Sir Aldobrand would, if he knew my inclination, take the liberty of debarring my access to this forbidden wilderness of sweets. That decided me. Ladies, to you there needs no explanation. The impulse for the forbidden, when you and I can see no wickedness in it, we know to be irresistible. And then THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 9 the delight of being the first man to enter a place tabooed for more than a hundred years !—to say nothing of the satiating of an ardent curiosity to see what hand Nature would make at Floriculture, when left to herself for a century. Was I not strongly im- ? Before the old domestic was fairly out of sight, I found myself uncon¬ sciously poking with my cane against the crumbling door. It seemed, by its yieldingness, to tempt invasion. As I wish, dear ladies, to stand highly in your estimation, know that, in my youth, I carried arms. At the moment that I was thus attacking the gate 10 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. with my cane, I remembered this myself; and, thinking it a very femi¬ nine method of carrying on a siege, I was determined to enter by assault. So, gathering up all my forces for a coup de dos, I made a charge back¬ wards, with a more than wished-for success : for, though I carried the post, which, by the by, fell upon me in my fall, I found myself carried literally into a bed of roses, and, whilst I remained in my recumbent position, I felt that roses have thorns. A huge and beautifully - speckled snake crawled from under me, which, rising upon its coils, seemed at first inclined to do battle with the storming THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 11 party; but a flourish with my cane as I sprang upon my legs proved that the serpent deservedly possesses the character of wisdom. I will not say that he sounded a retreat, for he retreated without making any sound whatever. Fair daughters of Eve, at once so glorious in your perfections, and so graceful in the use you make of them, would that I could give you an ade¬ quate idea of the beauty of the scene that was thus suddenly disclosed to me ! Were it in my power, you would gain an adequate idea of that Paradise that man lost for your first mother, and which, in so many thousand ways, 12 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. her fair daughters have given back to him. It is true that your sex have lost us one Eden, but you have given us in return a long succession of mor¬ tal angels, that it is now man’s fault if he cannot find an Eden every where. THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. Y3 CHAPTER II. Which showeth that, after the Author had fallen out of his reverie by falling into the Garden, he met with the strangest inhabitant ever seen since the fall of Man. Goldsmith’s lines — “ where once a garden smiled, And still where many a garden-flower grows wild” — would not be at all applicable to the spot in which I found myself. It united the wildness of the jungle with the rich beauties of cultivation. Never before had I seen Roses of a form so perfect, or of a size so magnificent. The Garden had been laid out in the c 14 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. old-fashioned style of parterres, stone terraces, and avenues of clipped trees, the whole rather populous with Sta¬ tues, and there were still thirsty Tri¬ tons looking down wistfully upon long dried-up Fountains. Honeysuckle and Jessamine had so wound their elegant and flower-bearing tendrils round Apollo’s lyre, that its classic shape was hardly visible through this more than classical redundancy of decoration. An envious piece of Ivy had crept up the god’s back, and, at length, reaching his sun-crowned brow, had wreathed it round and round with the head-dress of Bacchus, whilst the jolly god himself stood but THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 15 a little way off, actually embowered with the tree so sacred to Phoebus, the never-fading Laurel. The cast of the Medicean Venus was decently if not very gracefully clothed in a dark green dress, relieved by a profusion of red berries. There was a large snail fixed in one of her beautiful down-looking eyes, which I regarded as a profanation so scan¬ dalous, that I poked him out with the end of my cane. I thought, as the abomination rustled through the foliage in its fall, upon what vile things will fasten upon beauty, should it be compelled to undergo scorn or be left to neglect. The idea was 16 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. painful to me, thus typically sha¬ dowed out. From that moment I made a vow to increase, a hundred¬ fold, my respect and my attentions to the whole sex. Ladies, that vow I have kept. I must observe, enpassant, that the nine Muses had been scandalously used. I impute it to the jealousy of that hoary destroyer, Time. The gatherer-in of generations has no greater enemy than these ladies. Whatever is saved from this insa¬ tiate glutton, is saved by them. Their opponent had taken them at a disad¬ vantage. He had fairly humbled them. They were rotten about the THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 17 feet; Terpsichore could no longer point the toe; Urania’s globe had fallen shivered to the earth; and her beautifully upturned head, with which she had been so enrapt gazing on the stars, had fallen after it, and both were fast crumbling into kin¬ dred dust. Alas, there was not the decimal part of a nose among the whole nine ! Nature had, however, most kindly done her best to cover them in their disgrace, by flinging redundantly over them her many-coloured mantle of herbage. The stone terraces had still pre¬ served many spots wholly free from c 3 18 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. vegetation. I observed, that, in many instances, the garden Flowers and Shrubs had conquered the wilder intruders, whilst too often the rank weeds had surrounded and strangled the rightful owners of the soil with a savage barbarity. Yet was it a most beautiful scene of desolation; and, as I contemplated it, a saddened pensiveness stole over me: I sate down upon the fragment of a broken column, heaviness came upon my soul from the mutilated statues that seemed like white spectres mocking me from their green shrouds, and the dull fragrance of mingled weeds and flowers fell oppressively on my senses. the floral telegraph. 19 Woe was on my heart, and I wished that I were a woman, that I might weep. I inclined my head on my hand, as I sate on the ruin, and gra¬ dually felt a mysterious awe creep over me. Let no one outrage my feelings by saying that then I dozed or fell into a syncope, or that I experienced an optical illusion. The sun was still high in the heavens, shedding down a misty yet glorious light; the insects were still winding their myriads of little horns in the bushes around me ; in no one feature did Nature change her appearance, when this superna¬ tural dread came upon my spirits. 20 THE FLOEAL TELEGEAPH. I had just rallied my energies to arise and seek the mansion, and thus rid myself of this creeping despondency, when my eyes were fixed upon a most luxurious profusion of the flower vulgarly called “ Love Lies Bleed¬ ing/' 1 I never beheld it in such quan¬ tities before, or with a tint so deeply ensanguined. It seemed to have come close to me, though, of course, I must have approached it unconsciously myself. From out of the midst of this bosomy exuberance of red, I dis¬ cerned two flowers upon tall and slender stalks — flowers of a species that I had never before seen, though I had devoted so many years to Botany. THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 21 The clear and transparent green stalks of these flowers were entwined around each other with two or three volutions, and the chalices or the cups of the flowers lay lovingly together, and there was a blush upon both, as when youth and maiden, for a mo¬ ment, place cheek to cheek. The shapes of these flowers were extremely classical and elegant; they were in size larger than a tulip, yet they had something of an urn -like and funereal appearance. One was a little less in size, and of a more delicate roseate colour than the other. Yet their beautiful urn-like forms saddened my sad heart still more; 22 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. and I thought to myself that, could the ashes of two lovers be subtilized sufficiently, these flowers would make a much more fitting receptacle for them than the sculptured marble of either Greek or Roman. Whilst I was following the melancholy train of reflections arising from this thought, suddenly, from the depths of the flow¬ ers, the objects of my contemplations, up sprang two most beauteous butter¬ flies.— Butterfly! Mean, inappro¬ priate term ! How much I detest the word ! Imago is better — but it sounds pedantic. Call them what you will, these lovely emanations of joyous Nature THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 23 immediately joined in fluttering play; they, in their flight, encircled each other, now this, now that, the upper¬ most ; but, although they thus kept on wantoning round and round, their progress was directly upwards, to¬ wards the Heavens ; higher and higher they still ascended amidst their playful endearments, until I lost sight of them in the immensity of the blue space. As my eyes were still up¬ turned to the spot where they escaped my vision, I said aloud, “ Then, there may be something in the belief of the ancients concerning the affinity of the human soul and the butterfly.” “ Assuredly,” replied the sweetest 24 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. voice that ever fell on the ear of man. Startled, I took my eyes from the heavens ; and I beheld, sitting close beside me, a female, too beautiful to belong to mortality. I knew at once that I was in the presence of a super¬ natural lady. She was a lady. Her air would have been worshipped at Almack’s, her refinement of look and harmony of gesture would have made queens her pupils, and princes and kings her slaves. ‘‘Madam,” said I,rising,and doing my most amiable bow, “ pray, whom may I have the exalted honour of ad¬ dressing ?” THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 25 With all the grace and dignity of the vielle cour , she motioned me to be seated. I experienced no alarm, my previous tremours had all disap¬ peared. The hot mist that had hung on the blooming wilderness ebbed away, the freshness of spring was added to the brilliancy of summer, and the sensation of renovated youth thrilled through my frame, as I again placed myself by the side of one who might well be ycleped the Deity of the hour of Sunrise. D 26 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. CHAPTER III. Which showeth in what manner this Lady of the forbidden Garden revealed herself to me, the Author, Horace Honeycomb, Esq., and detaileth her learned discourse upon Flowers. After the fair and glorious being had seen me comfortably placed be¬ side her, wreathing her sweet coun¬ tenance into a smile of blessedness, she said, in the modulation of quiet harmony, “ My dear Mr. Honeycomb, it is exactly one hundred and seven years, seven months, and seven days —the hours we will not mention, for THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 27 what are they 've your company—since I have been looking for the felicity of this visit.” At the mention of this long period, I must confess, ladies, that I stole a sheepish look downwards; but, I as¬ sure you, at the termination of her gossamer drapery, instead of being shocked with the cloven hoof, I saw the prettiest j ewelled little satin slip¬ per that ever covered the foot of beauty. The little of her leg and ancle that she disclosed was sym¬ metry, and symmetry faintly blushing in the most approved rose-coloured tinted hose of the finest silken tex¬ ture. Upon examining her costume 28 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. more closely, had it not been of such ineffable delicacy and fineness, I should have pronounced it to be a morning dress of the purest white, made after the most approved and the latest fashion. There was neither Grecian nor Roman affectation about her. She appeared to be a thoroughly English girl, just laughing herself into womanhood; her rich brown hair clustering over her glorious brow, which ever and anon she shook away with the sweetest, yet coquettish toss of the head imaginable. The complexion was that pure white, deepening by degrees into that in¬ tense, but equally pure, carnation, THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 29 that art cannot imitate, and yet almost seems too beautiful to be real. I gazed with rapture upon her budding lips, that seemed for ever to be nursing between them an arch smile, and sug¬ gested to you the idea of a young love cradled in a just opening rose. In the ardency of my regards, I am sensible that I lost my manners ; and my heart would have gone after them, had I not remembered suddenly that, peradventure, I might be conferring with a phantom. I turned pale — perhaps, I trembled. “ Madam,'” said I, with all the cau¬ tious observance that we are sure to pay to those whom we dread, “ I am d 3 30 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. sure that you have the advantage of me, as well in the knowledge of my name as in number of years — the poor child before you is only sixty and three years old. May I be per¬ mitted, madam, to hint to you, in the most delicate manner possible, that I was legally baptized, and that there area few foolish scruples in the mem¬ bers of our church, about bolding conversation with a ghost.” “ A ghost! bless the dear old man ! What can his good natured, aged heart be dreaming about ? Look me full in the eyes, if you dare. There ; do you see any thing ghostly in them ? Do I feel like a ghost?” And she THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 31 playfully caught up both my hands, and, placing either of them on one of her glowing cheeks, laughingly said, “ We may use these little inno¬ cent freedoms with old gentlemen of three score years and ten.” Than that touch, liquid fire or mol¬ ten gold might have scorched and burnt up more, but could not have fired with any thing like its sudden intensity. But I confess that I was, notwithstanding my sudden delight, most sensibly piqued. “ Madam,” said I, with due for¬ mality, “ it is not more than two mi¬ nutes ago that I told you I was no more than sixty and three — an age, 32 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. madam, that, in this healthful country, and with a careful liver, may still, in some sort, be termed young. Besides, it does seem to me that a taunt on an honourable increase of years comes but very ill from the mouth of a lady, however girlish her appearance may be, who has been expecting a visit one hundred and seven years, seven months, and seven days. A lady that could wait so long may well permit the odd hours to go for no¬ thing.” “ Now, my dear Mr. Honeycomb,” said she sportively, “ all this is very unkind. If you did but know how I loved you ! ” clasping together her THE ELGRAL TELEGRAPH. 33 little rosy fingers, and showering from her eyes into mine the most tender reproaches. “ Ah, well ! hope is not for me, whilst the dowager lady Muf- fleton with her fat jointure and her fat—” “ May go to the d— ! ” But, before I could perpetrate the rudeness, her delicate hand had closed my lips. Whilst I was acknowledging the reproof with a kiss of homage on the ends of her fingers, she said, “ Don’t you think it rather dangerous for one so fearful of ghosts as your¬ self to mention that personage whose name had almost escaped your lips, in my presence ?” 34 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. (C Heavens and earth! ” said I, again alarmed. “ What can you possibly have to do with Mm ? ” <■( Very little indeed, I assure you. I spoke for your own sake. I am beyond his power. But there are secrets not meant for your ear. Do you know who I am ?” “ Something very delightful, beau¬ tiful— seeing you so exquisite chif- Jonge, no doubt but that you have your card ?” She bounded from me with all the grace of the quadrille and the dig¬ nity of the minuet; and immediately returned, placing in my hands a bouquet formed of the Flowers, ar- THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 35 ranged as they are on the opposite page. “ There/’ said she, cc is my card • read it.” I received the symbol with that pro¬ found air of sapience with which a Bishop may be supposed to pore over a difficult Latin quotation, the poor man being conscious the while that he has long forgotten all his classical learning. “ Madam,” said I, endeavouring to cover my ignorance with the so¬ lemnity of my phraseology, “ the flowers are pretty, but their meaning is occult.” “ It is fashionable to be a little 36 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. blue. I have given you the name I bore among the ancients. Those flowers spell Flora. I am one of the millions who bear that patronymic. Under that title, ages ago, I, among the rest, was worshipped, and miser¬ ably profaned, too. I abhor idolatry —the thoughts of their Floral games make me shudder. I was never con¬ senting to those abominations. All that is now happily altered. For the want of a better term, you may call me a Sylph. It will give you the best idea of my nature. I chuse to distinguish myself from all other Flo¬ ras— and our family is terribly nu¬ merous—by the title of Floribel. I THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 37 am the presiding genius over the Garden Flowers, more especially the Violet, the Greenhouses, and the Co¬ quetry of this district, a single lady of the most unblemished reputation, and, my dear Mr. Honeycomb, your humble servant.” She finished her address with a courtesy that would have madeNoblet jealous, and have thrown Taglioni into despair. I replied to it with my best George-the-fourth-bow; and incontinently, in my most gallant manner, wishing to appear seductive, offered her a pinch of snuff. 38 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. CHAPTER IV. Which showeth how Floribel imparted to Mr. Honeycomb the History of the Origin of Flow¬ ers, and which relateth many other tiue but incredible matters. The fair Floribel;, perhaps not per¬ ceiving my extended arm, as she swam round with a graceful turn to regain her seat, whisked my tortoiseshell silver-rimmed snuff-box out of my hand, by which, not only all the aro¬ matic atoms were lost, but the box itself disappeared very mysteriously among the high grass. THE FLOUAL TELEGRAPH. 39 “ Search not for it, my dear Mr. Honeycomb,” said my blooming com¬ panion. “ It is not worth the finding. How can you possibly delight in the dust of a dead and rank weed, whilst you can regale yourself with a living fragrance rich as is this ?” and she plucked from her girdle the only flower about her person, a glowing Rose, and held it towards me. I begged the p:ssession of it, and could only gain it by solemnly forswearing snuff. From that day to this, the titillating particles have been strangers to my nostrils. Ladies, is not this a proof irrefutable, that the occurrences of 40 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. that day, as some vainly pretend, were no delusion of the senses, but the substantive acts of substantial actors ? “ Now, Mr. Honeycomb,” said Floribel, 44 oblige me by taking out of your right hand coat-pocket that ample common-place book in which you have commenced your 4 Tour through Devonshire,’ and pass your pencil through the half page that you have already there in¬ scribed.” At this request, I blushed almost as deep a red as glowed upon her cheeks. I had actually begun my tour in these words: “Devonshire”—But, ladies, as I must confess that you will THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 41 find the whole of it in the Gazetteer, I shall not quote it. I crossed out the vile plagiarism, with the shame of a young thief taken in the fact. I suppose that the generality of authors soon rid themselves of this feeling. It must be so, for I cannot otherwise account for the multiplicity of books. “ Thank you, Mr. Honeycomb. Now write down the words that I shall dictate. Let me have no adjective or antithetical flourishes of your own. In the simplicity of diction there is not only the force and beauty of truth, but also the utmost reach of elegance. Write down 4 The Origin of Flowers.’ ” I obeyed, and wrote. e 3 42 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. THE ORIGIN OF FLOWERS. “ When the parents of mankind hymned forth their grateful praises in the garden of Eden, I and my sisters were not. The Immortal Flowers that bloomed within that sacred enclosure we never saw. They are to be our rewards hereafter. Our immortality will be spent in a terrestrial paradise, whilst celestial glories will be the lot of more favoured man, when the holy blood of redemption shall have washed him sinless. “ The offending pair were expelled. The barrier sword of fire waved be¬ hind them, and all before was desolate, THE ELORAL TELEGRAPH. 43 and drear, and sterile. For the first time, they heard the winds howl as in anger; for the first time, the cold chilled and the heat scorched them. The rain no longer descended upon them in odoriferous and refreshing dews, but beat savagely, like remorse, upon their woe-surcharged bosoms. “ For many miles they walked si¬ lently and sullenly, and apart. Adam’s heart was full of indignation, Eve’s eyes with tears. On their dreary way, the few stunted shrubs that they met with bore no fruit, the barren earth no herbage, and the scanty vegetation no flowers. But their mournful path Avas not unwatched, their sorrows not 44 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. unshared. Hosts of heavenly essences hovered above them, their thoughts praying silently for the afflicted, and all longing to descend to support the tottering steps of the expelled, to speak to them of hope, and whisper comfort to their souls. “ But, as yet, they dared not. Adam was still stubborn in his anger, and Eve, though repentant, offended at her partner’s neglect. As yet, there was no opening, no pretence for the descent of heavenly grace. And the unseen angels hung over them and around them sorrowing. “Scarcely three hours had theyjour- neyed, when, for the first time since THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. 45 she arose in perfection from the plastic hand of the Deity, Eve felt weariness. The new and strange sensation en¬ twined itself about her delicate limbs, and seemed to drag her towards the earth. It lay upon her gentle bosom, and oppressed its healthful heaving. It was as a weight upon her brain, and as a faintness on her heart. Then was born that intolerable evil, phy¬ sical pain. Eve acknowledged the birth with a groan—her tears fell no longer in silence. She wept aloud. “ But, with the harshness of the scene around him, Adam’s heart was hardening. As if driven in upon him from without, evil feelings were con- 46 THE FLORAL TELEGRAPH. centrating in his bosom. He heard ; but he went on his way unheeding.