CORNER BOOK SHOP
102 FOURTH AVENUE
NEW YORK 3, N. Y.
ALBERT R. MANN
LIBRARY
AT
CORNELL UNIVERSITY
THE GIFT OF
Isabel Zucker
class 1 26
! iT.T>0*£ r ’ ' 1 r ' V 'll "’t:l IT SI I-
:.S UV.W .re.
V
THE
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS
with
ILLUSTRATIVE POETRY ;
TO WHICH ARE NOW ADDED
THE CALENDAR OF FLOWERS
AND
THE DIAL OF FLOWERS.
SebentI) IStrition,
REVISED BY THE EDITOR OF “ FORGET ME NOT,”
How much there is of the heart’s eloquence
In but a simple Flower!—Oh, Flowers were made
For Love’s interpreters!
LONDON:
SAUNDERS & OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET
1840 .
Vii{Ut~T
MA/Pfc&
La?
T. C. Sayill, Printer, 107, St. Martin’s Lane.
TO
her royal highness
THE
DUCHESS OF KENT,
THIS VOLUME
is
BY GRACIOUS PERMISSION
MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED.
PREFACE.
When Nature laughs out in all the tri¬
umph of Spring, it may be said, without a
metaphor, that, in her thousand varieties of
flowers, we see the sweetest of her smiles;
that, through them, we comprehend the ex¬
ultation of her joys; and that, by them, she
wafts her songs of thanksgiving to the hea¬
ven above her, which repays her tribute of
gratitude with looks of love. Yes, flowers
have their language. Theirs is an oratory
Vlll
PREFACE.
that speaks in perfumed silence, and there is
tenderness, and passion, and even the light¬
heartedness of mirth, in the variegated beauty
of their vocabulary. To the poetical mind,
they are not mute to each other; to the pious,
they are not mute to their Creator: and ours
shall be the office, in this little volume, to
translate their pleasing language, and to
shew that no spoken word can approach to
the delicacy of sentiment to be inferred from
a flower seasonably offered ; that the softest
impressions may be thus conveyed without
offence, and even profound grief alleviated,
at a moment when the most tuneful voice
would grate harshly on the ear, and when
the stricken soul can be soothed only by un¬
broken silence.
PREFACE.
IX
In treating of so gay a subject, we will
not make a parade of our learning, to tell our
fair readers what fine things Pliny has said
upon it; or, in the spirit of prosing, write a
crabbed treatise upon the Egyptian hiero¬
glyphics. We will even spare them a dis¬
sertation upon the Floral Alphabet of the
effeminate Chinese; they had, and have,
their flowers and their feelings, their emblems
and their ecstacies. Let them enjoy them.
We shall do no more than rove through the
European Garden, to cull its beauties, to ar¬
range them into odoriferous significance, and
to teach our refined and purifying science to
those fair beings, the symbols of whose
mortal beauty are but inadequately found in
the most glorious flowers, and whose mental
X
PREFACE.
charms cannot be duly typified till we
shall have reached those abodes where reigns
everlasting spring, and where decay is un¬
known.
But little study will be requisite for the
science which we teach. Nature has been
before us. We must, however, premise two
or three rules. When a flower is presented
in its natural position, the sentiment is to
be understood affirmatively; when reversed,
negatively. For instance, a rose-bud, with
its leaves and thorns, indicates fear with
hope; but if reversed, it must be construed
as saying “ you may neither fear nor hope
Again, divest the same rose-bud of its thorns,
and it permits the most sanguine hope; de¬
prive it of its petals, and retain the thorns,
PREFACE.
XI
and the worst fears may be entertained.
The expression of every flower may be thus
varied by varying its state or position. The
Marigold is emblematical of pain ; place it
on the head, and it signifies trouble of mind ;
on the heart, the pangs of love; on the
bosom, the disgusts of ennui. The pronoun
I is expressed by inclining the symbol to the
right, and the pronoun thou by inclining it to
the left.
These are a few of the rudiments of our
significant language. We call upon Friend¬
ship and Love to unite their discoveries with
ours; for it is in the power only of these
sweetest sentiments of our nature to bring
to perfection what they have so beautifully
invented, the mystical, yet pleasing, links of
PREFACE.
xii
intelligence, that bind soul to soul, in the
tender and quiet harmony of the one, or in
the more impassioned felicity of the other.
By way of conclusion, it may be proper to
remark that though this work is founded on a
small French volume, yet, from the alterations
which have been introduced, it cannot, strictly
speaking, be called a translation.
INTRODUCTION.
If we may believe modern interpreters, tbe -
language of flowers was known to the ancients,
and it would appear that the Greeks under¬
stood the art of communicating a secret message
through the medium of a bouquet. It is only
necessary to consult the Dream-book of Arte-
midorus to be convinced that every individual
flower of which the wreaths of the ancients
were composed conveyed some particular mean¬
ing. At all events, it is evident that garlands
were conspicuous in the emblematic devices of
antiquity.
Our English poets have not neglected to
avail themselves of the emblematic language of
flowers. On this subject, a late writer has the
following observations.
B
2
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Shakspeare has evinced in several of his plays
a knowledge and a love of flowers, hut in no in¬
stance has he shewn his taste and judgment in
the selection of them with greater effect than in
forming the coronal wreath of the lovely maniac,
Ophelia. The Queen describes the garland as
composed of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and
long-purples ; and there can he no question that
Shakspeare intended them all to have an em¬
blematic meaning.
The crow-flower is a species of lychnis, alluded
to by Drayton in his Polyolbion. The common
English name is meadow lychnis, or meadow
campion. It is sometimes found double in our
hedge-rows, hut more commonly in France;
and in this form we are told by Parkinson it
was called The Fayre Mayde of France. It is
to this name and to this variety that Shakspeare
alludes in Hamlet.
The long-purples are commonly called dead
men’s hands, or fingers.
“ Our cold maids do dead men’s fingers call them.”
The daisy (or day’s eye) imports the pure
virginity or spring of life, as being itself the
virgin bloom of the year.
INTRODUCTION.
3
The intermixture of nettles requires no com¬
ment.
Admitting the correctness of this interpreta¬
tion, the whole is an exquisite specimen of em¬
blematic or picture-writing. They are all wild
flowers, denoting the bewildered state of the
beautiful Ophelia’s own faculties ; and the order
runs thus, with the meaning of each term be¬
neath :
Crow-flowers. Nettles. Daisies. Long-purples.
Fayre Mayde
Stung to Her virgin Under the cold
the quick bloom hand of death.
“ A fair maid stung to the quick ; her virgin bloom
under the cold hand of death.”
It would be difficult to find a more emblematic
wreath for this interesting victim of disappointed
love and filial sorrow.
Flowers, the emblems and favourites of the
fair, are not every where prized merely for their
beauty and their perfume; invention has created
from them symbolic phrases for expressing the
secret sentiments of the heart. This language
is most generally used by the Turkish and Greek
women in the Levant, and by the African fe¬
males on the coast of Barbary.
4
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Castellan, in his “ Letters on Greece,” men¬
tions that when he was passing through the
lovely valley of Bujukderu on the Bosphorus,
his attention was attracted by a little country
pleasure-house, surrounded by a neat garden.
Beneath one of the grated windows stood a
young Turk, who, after playing a light prelude
on the tambur, a sort of mandoline, sang a love-
song, in which the following verse occurred:—
The nightingale wanders from flower to flower,
Seeking the rose, his heart’s only prize ;*
Thus did my love change every hour,
Until I saw thee, light of my eyes !
No sooner was the song ended than a small
white hand opened the lattice of the window,
and dropped a hunch of flowers. The young
Turk picked up the nosegay, and appeared to
read in it some secret message. He pressed it
to his bosom, then fastened it in his turban, and,
after making some signs towards the window, he
withdrew. The young gallant appeared from
his dress to he nothing more than a poor water-
* Alluding to the love of the nightingale for the rose,
which is a favourite theme of the Oriental poets. The
nightingale, a bird of passage in the East, as with us,
appears at the season when the rose begins to blow.
INTRODUCTION.
5
carrier. But the Turkish proverb says that, how¬
ever high a woman may rear her head towards
the clouds, her feet nevertheless touch the earth.
The girl wms actually the daughter of a rich Jew,
worth a hundred thousand piastres.
A nosegay, or garland of flowers, ingeniously
selected, and put together for the purpose of
communicating in secret and expressive lan¬
guage the sentiments of the heart, is in the
East called a Salaam (salutation). It often hap¬
pens that a female slave corresponds with her
lover merely by the various arrangement of
flower-pots in a garden. Written love-letters
would often be inadequate to convey an idea of
the feelings which are thus expressed through
the medium of flowers. Thus, orange-flowers
signify hope; marigolds, despair; sunflowers,
constancy ; roses, beauty ; and tulips represent
the complaints of infidelity.
This hieroglyphic language is known only to
the lover and his mistress. In order to envelop
it the more completely in the veil of secresy,
the significations of the different flowers are
changed, in conformity with a preconcerted
plan : for example, the rose is employed to ex-
B 3
f)
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
press tlie idea which would otherwise be attached
to the amaranth, the gilliflower is substituted
for the pomegranate blossom, &c.
The language of flowers is much employed in
the Turkish harems, Avhere the women practise
it either for the sake of mere diversion in their
solitude, or for the purpose of secret communi¬
cation.
La Motraie, the companion of Charles XII.,
and Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, were the
first who gave celebrity in Europe to the lan¬
guage of flowers. The few examples cited by
Lady Montagu are not calculated to afford a
clear and accurate idea of the principles on
which this language is founded. Its spirit con¬
sists not, as might naturally be supposed, in the
connexion which fancy may trace between par¬
ticular flowers and certain thoughts and feelings.
Such an idea never entered the heads of the
fair inventresses of the oriental language of
flowers. They have contented themselves with
merely taking a word which may happen to
rhyme with the name of any particular flower
or fruit, and then filling up the given rhyme
with some fanciful phrase corresponding with
INTRODUCTION.
/
its signification. The language, therefore, con¬
sists not of individual words, hut of whole
phrases ; and a flower or fruit expresses an idea
suggested by the word with which its name
happens to rhyme. Thus, for instance, the word
Armonde (Pear) rhymes among other words
with Omonde (hope) ; and this rhyme is filled
up as follows :—“ Armonde — Wer bana bir
Omonde (Pear—Let me not despair).
The Turkish dialect, being rich in rhymes,
presents a multitude of words corresponding in
sound with the names of flowers, or any other
objects that may be selected ; but these rhymes
are not all admitted into the language of flowers,
and the knowledge of this language consists in
being acquainted with the proper rhyme. The
vocabulary is not extensive, for the whole lan¬
guage scarcely exceeds a hundred signs and
phrases. The celebrated orientalist, Mr. von
Hammer, collected from the Greek and Ar¬
menian women who are permitted to visit the
harems many of the phrases of this curious
language, which have been published, with a
French and German translation, in the Mis¬
cellany entitled, “ Mines of the East.”
8
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
In India, which may he regarded as the cradle
of poetry, we are informed that it is customary
to express, by the combination of flowers, those
sentiments of the heart which are regarded as
too refined and sacred to be communicated
through the common medium of Avords. The
young females of Amboyna are singularly inge¬
nious in the art of conversing in the language
of flowers and fruits. Yet this language, like
that employed in Turkey and in other parts of
the East, bears no resemblance to that with
which we have hitherto been acquainted in Eu¬
rope ; though, according to the received notion,
Ave Avere indebted for our first knowledge of this
language to the Crusaders and to pilgrims who
visited the Holy Land.
In early times it was customary in Europe to
employ particular colours for the purpose of ex¬
pressing certain ideas and feelings. The ena¬
moured knight indicated his passion by Avearing
a red and violet scarf—if he made choice of a
reddish grey colour, it was to denote that love
had urged him to the combat—on the other
hand, the combination of yellow, green, and
violet, proclaimed that the knight returned tri-
INTRODUCTION.
9
umphant from the conflict, and had gained the
reward of love.
In France, where the symbolical meaning of
colours was formed into a regular system, great
importance was attached to the art of expressing
ideas by the selection of particular colours for
dresses, trimmings, &c. Francis I., however,
broke through all the rules of etiquette on this
point. In the reign of that monarch, widows
were permitted to wear any colours and stuff's
they pleased for under-garments, and for gowns
they were at liberty to choose one of two colours,
a privilege which they had not previously en¬
joyed. In course of time, the practice of adopt¬
ing colours for the purpose of emblematic repre¬
sentations gradually declined, and was observed
only in the choice of arms and liveries, in which
it has been retained, with certain modifications,
to the present day.
In the ages of chivalry, red was highly es¬
teemed as the colour of love, and, accordingly,
the rose was, on account of its tint, a favourite
emblem. Thus, in the romance of Perceforet,
a hat adorned with roses is celebrated as a
favourite gift of love ; and, in Amadis de Gaul,
10
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
the captive Oriana is represented as throwing to
her lover a rose wet with tears, as the sweetest
pledge of her unalterable faith. The various
allegorical meanings which were in the middle
ages attached to the rose are described in the
celebrated Romaunt de la Rose, which was com¬
menced, in the year 1G20, by Guillaume de Lor-
ris, and finished, forty years later, by Jean de
Meun.
In the famous German Helderibuch, or Book
of Heroes, which is supposed to have been
chiefly written by Henry von Ofterdingen, the
Rose Garden of Wurms holds a distinguished
place. This garden was encircled by a silken
thread instead of a wall; and the victorious
knights who defended it against the encroach¬
ments of a party of giants were, by Princess
Chrymhilde, rewarded with a chaplet of roses
and a kiss. One of the knights, named Hilde-
brandtf is described as having accepted the
chaplet but declined the salute. A monk,
named Ilsan, however, who was one of the
triumphant warriors, not satisfied with the re¬
wards conferred on himself, demanded a chaplet
and a kiss for each of the fifty-two monks of the
INTRODUCTION.
11
convent to which he belonged. It is added that
Chrymhilde granted this boon; though not
until Ilsan had fought and conquered fifty-two
of the offending giants.
In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries,
tournaments lost much of the sanguinary cha¬
racter which had previously distinguished them.
They became merely entertainments for the
celebration of court-festivals; and the combat¬
ants gained the prize of victory, not by wounds
and bloodshed, but by broken lances, the frag¬
ments of which were presented to them as tro¬
phies of success. It was the etiquette of early
times for a knight, on entering the lists at a
tournament, to beg permission to wear the
colours of the lady to whose service he was
devoted; but this practice was gradually suc¬
ceeded by that of wearing about the person any
pledge of love which the knight solicited from
his mistress, or which the latter spontaneously
presented to him. This custom of giving and
wearing favours was kept up until the middle
of the seventeenth century. Various changes
of fashion took place with respect to the objects
which were thus presented as pledges of regard;
12
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
and if Bayard, the “ knight without fear and
without reproach,” obtained from the lady of his
heart a pair of elegant bracelets and a silken
purse—the favoured knight of a more recent
age received from the hand of his mistress the
less costly gift of a simple flower. The pre¬
sents given in this manner by ladies to their
favourite champions were soon converted into
emprises, or devices, and were worn on those
parts of the dress or armour which an adversary
was obliged to touch when he challenged the
possessor of the emprise to single combat.
In France, during the middle ages, flowers
were much employed as emblems of love and
friendship. At the banquet given in celebration
of the marriage of Charles the Bold, Duke of
Burgundy, with the English Princess Margaret,
several ingenious automata were introduced—
among others was a large unicorn, bearing on
its hack a leopard, which held in one claw the
standard of England, and in the other a daisy,
the French name of which is Marguerite. The
unicorn, having gone round all the tables,
halted before the Duke ; and one of the maitres
d’hotel, taking the daisy from the leopard’s
INTRODUCTION.
13
claw, presented it, with a complimentary ad¬
dress, to the royal bridegroom.
In the same country, an homage, unparalleled
in its kind, was paid to a lady in the early part
of the seventeenth century. The Duke of Mon-
tausier, on obtaining the promise of the hand
of Mademoiselle de Rambouillet, sent to her,
according to custom, every morning till that
fixed for the nuptials, a bouquet composed of
the finest flowers of the season. But this was
not all: on the morning of New Year’s Day,
1634, the day appointed for the marriage, he
laid upon her dressing-table a magnificently
bound folio volume, on the parchment leaves of
which the most skilful artists of the day had
painted from nature a series of the most beau¬
tiful flowers then cultivated in Europe. The
first poets of Paris contributed the poetical illus¬
trations, which were written by the cleverest
penmen under the different flowers. The most
celebrated of these madrigals, composed by
Chapelain on the Crown Imperial, represented
that superb flower as having sprung from the
blood of Gustavus Adolphus, who fell in the
battle of Liitzen ; and thus paid, in the name of
c
14
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
the Swedish hero, a delicate compliment to the
bride, who was a professed admirer of his cha¬
racter. According to a statement published some
years since, this magnificent volume, which was
called, after the name of the lady, the Garland
of Julia, was disposed of, in 1784, at the sale of
the Duke de la Valliere’s effects, for fifteen
thousand five hundred and ten livres, (about
£C50,) and is now in England.
Plants may in many respects be regarded as .
beings closely allied to man, and they frequently
exercise an important influence over us. The
following remarks on this subject suggested
themselves to Matthisson, the German poet,
while journeying along the Cosato Domo d’Os-
sola. “ The beautiful Cyclamen, which blooms
along both sides of the road, continually re¬
minded me of the delightful summer day which
I spent in company with Salis and his wife, at
a shepherd’s hut in the neighbourhood of Ma-
lans, where for the first time I saw this flower
growing wild. I have never since beheld the
Cyclamen without being reminded of the beloved
friends with whom I first plucked and examined
it, and of the smiling landscapes with which we
INTRODUCTION.
15
were surrounded. There are various other
plants, the sight of which also revives in my
mind recollections of dear and interesting per¬
sons, and which brings the scenes of early youth
forcibly before me, as the strains of the Runs
de.s Vaches, when heard in a foreign country,
remind the Swiss peasant of his native moun¬
tains.
“ Numerous examples might be adduced to
prove that, in the power of exciting past recol¬
lections, the sight of a flower has often a more
magic effect than even the favourite melodies
of our youth. I myself know a young lady who,
though entirely free from nervous weakness,
could never look at a carnation without burst¬
ing into tears, because she was plucking a
flower of that kind at the moment when she
was informed of her mother’s death. The sight
of the periwinkle always produced pleasingly
painful feelings in Rousseau’s mind; and Bou¬
gainville’s South Sea Islander, on being taken to
the Botanic Garden in Paris, knelt before an
Otaheitean plant, and kissed it as fondly as he
would have kissed the lips of a beloved mistress.
It would be impossible to describe the many de-
16
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
lightful ideas and recollections for which, dur¬
ing my solitary journeys, I have been indebted
to the chronicle of Flora.”
A flower-garden may be compared to a pano¬
rama of hieroglyphics, displaying not the mise¬
rable worldly wisdom of mortals, inscribed in
dead characters, hut the maxims of immortal
philosophy, exhibited in living forms, with all
their peculiar varieties. Fancy traces a sym¬
bolic resemblance between man and the forms
and motions of all the natural objects in the
creation ; and, to borrow Chateaubriand’s bold
metaphor, the whole universe may he considered
as the imagination of the Deity rendered visible;
yet certainly this similarity is most particularly
striking in the vegetable world. The most
superficial observer cannot fail to perceive that
plants present faithful emblems of the various
stages of human life, and the most remarkable
peculiarities in our physical formation, and in
our moral relations to each other.
In those southern regions, where every living-
being feels the influence of vital heat and the
exciting oxygen which pervades the atmosphere
—where the genial climate, with scarcely any
INTRODUCTION.
17
change of seasons, liberally provides for the
support of man — Nature presents her vegetable
hieroglyphics in the most marked and perma¬
nent characters. The contemplation of the
starry canopy of heaven is calculated to inspire
every reflecting mind with the sublimest ideas
of immortality. When the attractions of all
transitory objects are veiled in the gloom of
night — when, amidst the stillness of Nature,
the voice of God resounds in the rustling of the
trees and the murmuring of the swelling billows
—the soul seems to wing its way towards the
realms of eternity, and the virtuous mind is
impressed with a deeper consciousness of its
moral dignity. This trait in the human mind
is typified in the vegetation of the East, by a
tree, to which the Turks, Arabians, Persians,
and Malays give various names, and which we
distinguish by the appellation of the Sorrow¬
ful Tree, (Nyctanthes arbor tristis, L.) In
form it is like the cherry tree ; but it is of much
larger size. Its flowers, which resemble the
orange blossom, are white, with a reddish tint
at the bottom of the calyx, and their perfume
is like that of the evening primrose. This tree
C 2
18
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
possesses tlie peculiar property of blooming and
emitting its delightful fragrance during the
night. There are
Plants that wake when others sleep;
Like timid jasmine buds that keep
Their odour to themselves all day.
But, when the sun-light dies away.
Let the delicious secret out
To every breeze that roams about.
The first bud of the Sorrowful Tree opens as
soon as the first star appears in the heavens;
and, as the shades of night advance, and the
stars thickly stud the sky, the buds continue
gradually blowing until the whole tree presents
the appearance of one immense flower—the
flower of a world, compared with which our
earth would he hut a football. On the approach
of morning, when the brilliancy of the stars
gradually fades in the light of day, the Sorrowful
Tree closes its flowers; and, when the first beam
of the rising sun appears, not a single blossom
is visible. A sheet of flower-dust, as white as
snow, covers the ground around the foot of
the tree, which seems blighted and withered
during the day, wliile, however, it is invisibly
INTRODUCTION.
19
and actively preparing for its next nocturnal
festival. If this tree is cut down close to the
roots, a new plant shoots up, and attains maturity
in an almost incredibly short space of time:
like the truly great man, who, though he may
he for a while bowed down by the storms of
fate, will soon recover and flourish in his wonted
glory. In the vicinity of this singular tree, there
usually grows another, which is probably a de¬
generate scion of the same species. In appear¬
ance it exactly resembles the Sorrowful Tree,
though it is less beautiful. It blooms only in
the day time; thus presenting an emblem of
those persons who seem created only to enjoy
the garish light of day, and who suffer the lumi¬
naries of night to diffuse their serener radiance
unheeded and unseen.
Though we dwell not on the luxuriant banks
of the Tigris, where, in the spring, the whole
country exhibits the appearance of a richly
varigated and perfumed flower-bed; yet even
in the less fertile regions of the North the gifts
of Flora are sufficiently abundant and diversified
to enable us to create from them a language for
the expression of those sentiments to which the
20
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
tongue cannot always venture to give utterance.
Every flower seems naturally to present some
particular emblematic meaning; and, in the
combination of a garland or nosegay, it is no
difficult matter to compose a riddle, the solution
of which may afford an agreeable exercise to
the fancy.
If, for example, a lady should receive from
her lover a bouquet consisting of roses, lilies,
laurel, and forget-me-not; the meaning of the
present might be thus interpreted : the flower
of innocence, when kissed by the rose, blushes
as thou wouldst blush at the approach of love;
the proud laurel denotes thy beauty’s triumph ;
and the tender forget-me-not is the emblem of
eternal constancy.
The idea of rendering flowers the vehicle
of a lover’s sentiments has been thus happily
seized by one of our early English poets:—
Aske me why I send you here
This firstling- of the infant yeare ;
Aske me why X send to you
This Primrose all bepearl’d with dew;
I strait will whisper in your ears.
The sweets of love are waslit with tears.
INTRODUCTION.
21
Aske me why this flow’r doth shew
So yellow, green, and sickly too ;
Aske me why the stalk is weak,
And bending, yet it doth not break;
I must tell you, these discover
What doubts and fears are in a Lover.
The following lines from Drayton’s Muses
Elysium may afford some useful hints for the
arrangement of a bouquet, with regard to the
harmonious blending of the tints of different
flowers. A Nymph is supposed to he speaking:
Here damask roses, white and red.
Out of my lap first take I,
Which still shall run along the thread:
My chiefest flower this make I.
Amongst these roses in a row,
Next place I pinks in plenty.
These double-pansies then for show,
And will not this be dainty ?
The pretty pansy then I’ll tye
Like stones some chain inchasing;
And next to them, their near ally,
The purple violet placing.
The curious choice clove Julyflower,
Whose kind hight the carnation,
For sweetness of most sovereign power
Shall help my wreath to fashion;
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Whose sundry colours of one kind,
First from one root derived,
Them in their several suits I’ll bind :
My garland so contrived.
A course of cowslips then I’ll stick.
And here and there (though sparely)
The pleasant primrose down I’ll prick,
Like pearls that will shew rarely ;
Then with these marygolds I’ll make
My garland somewhat swelling.
These honeysuckles then I’ll take,
Whose sweets shall help their smell ing,
The lily and the fleur-de-lis,
For colour much contenting,
For that I them do only prize.
They are but poor in scenting.
The daffodil most dainty is.
To match with these in meetness j
The columbine compared to this.
All much alike for sweetness.
These in their natures only are
Fit to emhoss the border,
Therefore, I’ll take especial care
To place them in their order:
Sweet-williams, campions, sops-in-wine,
One by another neatly :
Thus have I made this wreath of mine,
And finished it featly.
INTRODUCTION.
23
The practice of divination by flowers is not
altogether unconnected with the floral language
which forms the principal subject of this little
volume. It is customary in some countries to
pluck off the leaves of the marigold or any
flower of the aster kind, while certain words
are repeated, in order to ascertain the character
or inclination of an individual. Gothe has
touched upon this superstition in his tragedy of
Faust, in which Margaret plucks off the leaves
of a flower, at the same time alternately re¬
peating the words :—“ He loves me.”—“ He
loves me not.” On coming to the last leaf she
joyfully exclaims—“ He loves me!”—and Faust
says: “ Let this flower pronounce the decree of
Heaven!”
This circumstance has been chosen by Retsch
for the subject of one of his exquisite sketches
for the illustration of Faust, to an engraving of
which Miss Landon wrote a little poem entitled
“ The Decision of the Flower,” containing these
lines :—
And, with scarlet poppies around, like a bower.
The maiden found her mystic flower.
“ Now, gentle flower, I pray thee tell
If my lover loves me, and loves me well;
24
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
So may the fall of the morning’ dew
Keep the sun from fading thy tender blue.
Now I number the leaves for my lot_
He loves not he loves me—he loves me not_
He loves me—yes, thou last leaf, yes—
111 pluck thee not for that last sweet guess f
He loves me “ Yes,” a dear voice sighed,
And her lover stands by Margaret’s side.
In some countries the following mode of di¬
vination is resorted to. The lover, male or
female, who wishes to ascertain the character
of the beloved object, chooses or draws hy lot
one of the following flowers:
1. Ranunculus.
2. Wild Pink.
3. Auricula.
4. Blue Cornflower.
5. Wild Orach.
6. Daisy.
7. Tulip.
8. Jonquil.
9. Orangeflower.
10. Rose.
11. Amaranth.
12. Stock.
13. Spanish Vetch.
14. Asphodel.
15. Tricolor.
16. Tuberose.
17. Jasmine.
18. Heart’s-ease.
19. Lily.
20. Fritillary.
21. Snapdragon.
22. Carnation.
23. Marigold.
24. Everlasting Flower
INTRODUCTION.
25
The disposition of the individual in question
•will he found in the subjoined list at the number
corresponding -with that of the flower, which
has either been chosen or allotted by chance.
1. Enterprising.
2. Silly
3. Base.
4. Loquacious.
5. Lazy.
6. Gentle.
7. Ostentatious.
8. Obstinate.
9. Hasty.
10. Submissive.
11. Arbitrary.
12. Avaricious.
13. Passionate.
14. Languishing.
15. Selfish.
16. Ambitious.
17. Cheerful.
18. Delicate.
19. Sincere.
20. Coquettish.
21. Presumptuous.
22. Capricious.
23. Jealous.
24. Constant.
The following pages will explain the emble¬
matic significations which have been attributed
to different flowers, plants, shrubs, and trees;
and the various combinations which these mean¬
ings may suggest will, it is presumed, furnish
a pleasing exercise for the ingenuity of our
fair readers.
D
_
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
SPRING.
Here Spring appears, with flowery chaplets bound.
Anon.
Fresh Spring, the herald of love’s mighty king.
In whose cote-armour richly are display’d
All sorts of flowers the which on earth do spring,
In goodly colours gloriously array’d.
SrENSER.
Now gentle gales.
Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense
Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole
These balmy spoils.
Milton.
\\ ho loves not Spring’s voluptuous hours,
1 he carnival of birds and flowers ?
Montgomery.
28
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
SNOWDROP.
HOPE.
Though the Snowdrop cannot perhaps, strictly
speaking, he called one of the flowers of spring,
still, as the herald of that season, we may be
excused for placing it at the head of them.
Fair-handed Spring unbosoms every grace,
Throws out the Snowdrop and the Crocus first.
Thomson.
As Flora’s breath, by some transforming power,
Had changed an icicle into a flower,
Its name and hue the scentless plant retains.
And winter lingers in its icy chains.
Barbauld.
The Snowdrop, Winter’s timid child,
Awakes to life, bedewed with tears,
And flings around its fragrance mild;
And, where no rival flow’rets bloom
Amidst the hare and chilling gloom,
A beauteous gem appears.
All weak and wan, with head inclined.
Its parent breast the drifted snow,
It trembles, while the ruthless wind
Bends its slim form; the tempest lowers,
Its emerald eye drops crystal showers
On its cold bed below.
SNOWDROP.
29
Where’er I find thee, gentle flower,
Thou still art sweet and dear to me !
For I have known the cheerless hour.
Have seen the sunbeams cold and pale,
Have felt the chilling wintry gale.
And wept and shrunk, like thee 1
Mary Robinson.
This firstling of the year may not inaptly he
considered as an emblem of hope. Some have
regarded it as a symbbl of humility, of grati¬
tude, and of virgin innocence.
L he north wind howls; the naked branches
of the trees are powdered with hoar frost; the
earth is covered by a white, uniform carpet; the
tuneful birds are silent; the captive rivulet
ceases to murmur. At this season, when all
Nature appears dead, a delicate flower springs
up amidst the snow, displaying to the asto¬
nished eye its ivory bells, embosoming a small
green spot, as if marked by the pencil of Hope.
In expanding its blossoms on the snow, this de¬
licate flower seems to smile at the rigours of
winter, and to say :—“ Take courage ; here I
am to cheer you with the hope of milder wea¬
ther !”
30
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
MEZEREON.
COQUETRY —DESIRE TO PLEASE.
The stalk of this shrub is covered with a dry
hark, which gives to it the appearance of dead
wood. Nature, to hide this deformity, has en¬
circled each of its sprays with a garland of red
flowers, wreathed round them and terminating
in a small tuft of leaves, in the manner of the
pineapple. These flowers, which appear in the
month of February, give out a peculiar and
dangerous smell.
This shrub, clothed in its showy garb, appears
amidst the snow like an imprudent and coquet¬
tish female, who, though shivering with cold,
wears her spring attire in the depth of winter.
PRIMROSE.
31
PRIMROSE.
CHILDHOOD.
From the early bloom of this flower, it is
called by Linneus, the father of the modern sys¬
tem of botany, Primula Veris —the firstling of
Spring. The Auricula, Polyanthus, and Cow¬
slip, belong to this family.
The Primrose was anciently called Paralisos,
the name of a beautiful youth, who died of grief
for the loss of his betrothed Melicerta, and was
metamorphosed by his parents into this flower,
which has since divided the favour of the poets
with the Violet and the Rose.
Beneath the sylvan canopy, the ground
Gutters with flowery dyes; the Primrose first,
In mossy dell, return of Spring to greet.
Gisborne.
The Primrose pale is Nature’s meek and modest child.
Balfour.
The Primrose, tenant of the glade,
Emblem of virtue in the shade.
ML.yne.
32
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Sliakspeare makes the Primrose a funeral
flower for youth.
With fairest flowers,
Whilst summer last, and I live here, Fidele,
I’ll sweeten thy sad grave : thou shalt not lack
The flower that’s like thy face, pale Primrose.
Cyrnbcline.
ALMOND-TREE.
3»
ALMOND-TREE.
INDISCRETION.
The Almond-tree is the first of the trees to
obey the call of early spring. Nothing can he
more graceful than this beautiful tree when it
appears covered with blossoms, while the sur¬
rounding trees are still quite naked. It has
been made the emblem of indiscretion, from
flowering so early that frosts too often destroy
the precocious germs of its fruit, though, instead
of injuring its flowers, they seem to confer on
the latter additional beauty.
According to Moore, the Almond blossom is
the emblem of hope—
The hope, in dreams of a happier hour,
That alights on Misery’s brow,
Springs out of the silvery Almond-flower,
That blooms on a leafless bough.
In ancient times the abundance of blossom
on this tree was considered as the promise of a
fruitful season.
34
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Mark well the flowering Almond in the wood
If odorous blooms the bearing branches load.
The glebe will answer to the sylvan reign.
Great heats will follow, and large crops of grain.
But if a wood of leaves o’ershade the tree.
Such and so barren will the harvest be :
In vain the hind shall vex the threshing floor,
For empty straw and chaff will be thy store.
Dryden’s Virgil.
Fable confers an affecting origin on this tree.
It relates that Demophoon, son of Theseus and
Phaedra, in returning from the siege of Troy,
was thrown hy a storm on the shores of Thrace,
where then reigned the beautiful Phyllis. The
young queen graciously received the prince,
fell in love with him, and became his wife.
When recalled to Athens by li's father’s death,
Demophoon promised to return in a month, and
fixed the day. The affectionate Phyllis counted
the hours of his absence, and at last the ap¬
pointed day arrived. Nine times she repaired
to the shore; but losing all hope of his return,
she dropped down dead with grief, and was
turned into an Almond-tree. Three months af¬
terwards, Demophoon returned. Overwhelmed
with sorrow, he offered a sacrifice at the sea-
ALMOND-TREE.
35
side, to appease the manes of his bride. She
seemed to sympathize with his repentance : for
the Almond-tree, into which she had been trans¬
formed, instantly put forth its flowers, and
proved by this last effort, that true love,“ strong
as death,” is incapable of change.
3G
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
WEEPING WILLOW.
MOURNING.
The Weeping Willow is a native of the East,
where it was not only planted near the water,
hut also near the graves of the dead, over which
its branches drooped as in token of mourning
and affliction, producing an appropriate and pic¬
turesque effect. It is called by Linneus the "W il-
low of Babylon ( Salix Babylonica ), in allusion to
that affecting passage in the 137th Psalm, where
the captive children of Israel are represented as
hanging their harps upon the Willows, and sit¬
ting down beside the waters of Babylon to weep
their separation from their beloved country.
Silent their harps—each cord unstrung,
On pendent Willow-branches hung.
Booker.
On the Willow thy harp is suspended—
O Salem ! its sound should be free :
And the hour when thy glories were ended
But left me that token of thee;
And ne’er shall its soft notes he blended
With the voice of the spoiler by me.
Byron.
WEEPING WILLOW.
37
Forsaken lovers are represented by our ear¬
lier poets as wearing wreaths of Willow.
In love, the sad, forsaken wight
The Willow garland weareth.
Drayton.
I offered him my company to a Willow-tree, to make
him a garland, as being forsaken.
Shakspeare.
In such a night,
Stood Dido, with a Willow in her hand,
Upon the wild sea-hanks, and waved her love
To come again to Carthage.
Id.
I’ll wear the Willow-garland for his sake.
Id.
The Arabs have a particular tradition relative
to the origin of the Weeping Widow. This
tradition is founded on the story of Bathsheba,
and corresponds with the account given in the
Old Testament of the manner in which she
became the wife of David and the mother of
Solomon. It then proceeds thus: One mom-
ing, the king was seated as usual at his harp,
composing psalms, when he perceived to his
astonishment two strangers seated opposite to
him on the divan. As strict orders were issued
that no person whatever should be admitted
E
38 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
during the first four hours of the day, David
wondered greatly how the strangers had gained
access to his closet. They rose, and begged
pardon for having entered unannounced, because
they had an urgent complaint to lay before him.
David quitted the harp, and placed himself on
his judgment seat. “ This man,” began one of
them,“ has ninety-nine sheep, which plentifully
supply all his wants; while I, poor wretch, had
hut one that was my joy and comfort, and that
one he has forcibly taken from me.” At the
mention of the ninety-nine sheep, David could
not help thinking of the flock of his harem.
He recognised in the strangers two angels of
the Lord, and was sensible of the heinousness
of his offence. Forthwith he threw himself
upon the floor, and shed tears of hitter repent¬
ance. There he lay for forty days and forty
nights upon his face, weeping and trembling
before the judgment of the Lord. As many
tears of repentance as the whole human race
have shed and will shed on account of their
sins, from the time of David till the judgment-
day, so many did David weep in those forty
days, all the while moaning forth psalms of
WEEPING WILLOW.
39
penitence. The tears from his eyes formed
two streams, which ran from the closet into the
ante-room, and thence into the garden. Where
they sank into the ground, there sprang up two
trees, the Weeping Willow, and the Frankin¬
cense Tree. The first weeps and mourns, and
the second is incessantly shedding big tears, in
memory of the sincere repentance of David.
40
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
VIOLET.
MODESTY.
Ion, the Greek name of this flower, is traced
by some etymologists to la, the daughter of
Midas, who was betrothed to Atys, and changed
by Diana into a Violet, to hide her from Apollo.
The beautiful modest flower still retains the
bashful timidity of the nymph, partially con¬
cealing itself amidst foliage from the garish
gaze of the sun. Hence it has been ingeniously
given as a device to an amiable and witty lady,
of a timid and reserved disposition, surrounded
with the motto : II faut me chercher —I must
be sought after.
A woman’s love, deep in the heart.
Is like the Violet flower,
That lifts its modest head apart
In some sequestered hower.
Anon.
Unhappy fate of doubtful maid!
Her tears may fall; her#bosom swell;
But even to the desert shade
She never must her secret tell.
W. Smyth.
VIOLET.
41
The White Violet is also made the emblem
of innocence; and, from the following lines, by
a poet of the sixteenth century, it appears to
have been then considered as a symbol of con¬
stancy :—
Violet is for faithfulness.
Which in me shall abide ;
Hoping likewise that from your heart
You will not let it slide.
The poetry, the romance, and the scenery, of
every country are embroidered with Violets.
Violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes.
Or Cytherea’s breath.
Shakspeare.
From several other passages in Shakspeare’s
works, it is evident that the Violet was a fa¬
vourite with our great dramatist. We doubt
if the poetry of any language can produce lines
more exquisitely beautiful than these, in which
he compares the soft strains of plaintive music
to the perfume of Violets:—
That strain again !—it had a dying fall!—
Oh ! it came o’er my ear like the sweet south.
That breathes upon a bank of Violets,
Stealing and giving odour.
Twelfth Night.
42
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
It has a scent as though Love for its dower
Had on it all his odorous arrows tost;
For, though the rose has more perfuming power.
The Violet (haply ’cause ’tis almost lost,
And takes us so much trouble to discover)
Stands first with most, hut always with a lover.
Bakry Cornwall.
At the Floral Games instituted at Toulouse,
in the early part of the fourteenth century, in
the time of the Troubadours, the prize awarded
to the author of the best poetical composition
consisted of a golden Violet, to which several
other prizes were afterwards added by Clemence
Isaure. This festival, interrupted by the Revo¬
lution, was revived in 1806 , and is still held
annually in the town-house of Toulouse.
DAISY.
43
DAISY.
INNOCENCE.
Fabulous history informs us that the Daisy
owed its origin to Belides, one of the nymphs
called Dryads, who were supposed to preside
over meadows and pastures. While dancing
on the turf with Ephigeus, whose suit she en¬
couraged, she attracted the admiration of Ver-
tumnus, the deity who presided over orchards;
and, to escape from him, she was transformed
into the humble flower, the Latin name of which
is Beilis. The ancient English name of this
flower was Day’s Eye, in which way it is written
by Ben Jonson; and Chaucer calls it the “ ee
of the daie.” No doubt it received this desig¬
nation from its habit of closing its petals at
night, which it also does in rainy weather.
The Daisy has always been a favourite with
poets. Shakspeare speaks of it as the flower
Whose white investments figure innocence.
44
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Star of the mead !—sweet daughter of the day,
Whose opening flower invites the morning ray,
From thy moist cheek and bosom’s chilly fold.
To kiss the tears of Eve, the dew-drops cold,
Sweet Daisy !
Leyden.
When, smitten hy the morning ray,
I see thee rise, alert and gay,
Then, cheerful flower ! my spirits play
With kindred gladness :
And when, at dark, by dews opprest,
Thou sink’st, the image of thy rest
Hath often eased my pensive breast
Of careful sadness.
Wordsworth.
O’er waste and woodland, rock and plain,
Its humble buds unheeded rise ;
The Rose has but a summer reign—
The Daisy never dies.
Montgomery.
Not worlds on worlds in phalanx deep
Need we to prove a God is here;
The Daisy, fresh from Winter’s sleep,
Tells of his hand in lines as clear.
For who but He who arched the slues,
And pours the day-spring’s living flood,
Wondrous alike in all He tries,
Could raise the Daisy’s purple bud;
DAISY.
45
Mould its green cup, its wiry stem,
Its fringed border nicely spin.
And cut the gold-embossed gem
That, set in silver, gleams within;
And fling it, unrestrained and free.
O’er hill, and dale, and desert sod.
That Man, where’er he walks, may see
In every step the stamp of God !
Mason Good.
Malvina, bending over the tomb of Fingal,
wept for the valiant Oscar, and a son of Oscar’s
who never beheld the light of day.
The maids of Morven, to sooth her grief,
assembled around her, and sang the death of
the hero and of the new-born infant.
The hero is fallen, said they, he is fallen!
The crash of his arms hath rung over the plain.
He is beyond the reach of disease, which enfee¬
bles the soul—of old age, which dishonours the
brave. He has fallen, and the crash of his
arms hath rung over the plain! In the palace
of clouds, where dwell his ancestors, he now
quaffs with them the cup of immortality. Dry
the tears of thy grief, O daughter of Toscar!
The hero is fallen!—he is fallen !—and the
crash of his arms hath rung over the plain!
46
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Then, in a softer tone, they said to her : The
child which hath not seen the light hath not
known the sorrows of life: his young spirit,
borne aloft on glittering wings, soars to the
abodes of everlasting day. The souls of infants
who, like thine, have hurst without pain the
bonds of life, reclining on golden clouds, appear
and open to him the mysterious portal of the
manufactory of flowers. There these innocents
are continually employed in enclosing the
flowers that the next spring shall bring forth in
imperceptible germs : these germs they scatter
every morning over the earth with the tears of
the dawn. Millions of delicate hands enwrap
the rose in its bud, the grain of corn in its husk,
the mighty oak in a single acorn, a whole forest
in an imperceptible seed.
We have seen him, Malvina! we have seen
the infant whom thou mournest, borne on a
light mist: he approached, and poured upon
our fields a fresh harvest of flowers. Behold,
Malvina! — among these flowers there is one
with golden disk, encircled with rays of silver,
tipped with a delicate tint of crimson. Waving
amid the grass in a gentle breeze, it looks like
DAISY.
47
a little child playing in a green meadow. Dry
thy tears, O Malvina! — the hero died covered
with his arms; and the flower of thy hosom has
given a new flower to the hills of Cromla.
And the grief of Malvina was soothed hy
these songs, and she repeated the song of the
new-horn.
Since that day the daughters of Morven have
consecrated the Daisy to infancy. It is, they
say, the flower of innocence, the flower of the
new-born.
48
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
HEART’S-EASE.
THINK. OF ME.
The Heart’s-ease, Viola tricolor, or Pansy,
from the French Pensee, is a beautiful variety
of the Violet, differing from it in the diversity
of its colours, the petals being chiefly yellow,
variegated with black and purple. In fragrance,
however, it is far inferior to the Violet. One
species of the Pansy is entirely purple.
And there are pansies, that’s for thoughts.
Shakspeare.
And thou, so rich in gentle names, appealing
To hearts that own our nature’s common lot;
Thou, styled by sportive Fancy’s better feeling
A Thought, the Heart’s-Ease, and Forget-me-Not.
Barton*.
The fanciful origin of the colour of this flower
is thus described by our great bard :—
I saw,
Flying between the cold moon and the earth,
Cupid all arm’d ; a certain aim he took
At a fair vestal throned in the West,
heart’s-ease.
49
And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow,
As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts.
But I might see young Cupid’s fiery shaft
Quench’d in the chaste beams of the wat’ry moon :
And the imperial vot’ress passed on
In maiden meditation, fancy free.
Yet mark’d I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, now purple with love’s wound,
And maidens call it Love in Idleness.
The juice of it, on sleeping eyelids laid.
Will make or man or woman madly doat
Upon the next live creature that it sees.
Shakspeare.
In the year 1815, this flower furnished occa¬
sion for a tragi-comic occurrence in France.
A schoolmaster in a provincial town had pro¬
posed as a theme for his pupils a description of
the Viola tricolor , and given them as a motto
the following passage from a Latin poem by
Father Rapin, entitled “ The Gardens
Flosque Jovis varius, folii tricoloris, et ipsi
Par viol®.
The mayor of the town was informed of the
circumstance ; and, taking it into his head that
the object of the schoolmaster was to excite
insurrection against the government of the
F
50
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
lately-restored Louis XVIII., this sage functi¬
onary ordered the poor man to he apprehended.
The mayor construed the verses above quoted
in the following manner :—Flos Jovis , the flower
of Jupiter, was of course the flower of Napoleon ;
fold tricoloris denoted as evidently the three-
coloured cockade; et ipsi par viola: was a mani¬
fest allusion to /« pere la violette, as Bonaparte
was then called, because his partizans had
adopted this flower as a sign of their attach¬
ment, and carried it in their button-holes, or in
their bosoms. Astonished and confounded as
the poor schoolmaster at first was at his arrest,
he could not forbear smiling at this comic inter¬
pretation of the above passage by his worship
the mayor.
.
Jithtish ed ly Sait/idt/s & Crfey Conduit* Street.
*
I
WALLFLOWER.
51
WALLFLOWER.
FIDELITY IN MISFORTUNE.
The Wallflower derives its name from the
circumstance of its growing upon old walls, and
being seen on the casements or battlements of
ancient castles, among the ruins of abbeys, and
on turrets and cottages. Hence the minstrels
and troubadours were accustomed to wear a
bouquet of Wallflowers, as the emblem of an
affection which is proof against time and mis¬
fortune.
Modern poets have not been backward to
acknowledge the merits of this beautiful and
fragrant flower.
To me it speaks of loveliness,
That passes not with youth,
Of beauty which decay can bless,
Of constancy and truth.
But, in adversity’s dark hour,
When glory is gone by,
52
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
It then exerts its gentle power
The scene to beautify.
Barton.
An emblem true thou art
Of love’s enduring lustre, given
To cheer a lonely heart.
Id.
And our friend Moir (Delta of Blackwood’s
Magazine) pays this feeling tribute to the Wall¬
flower.
The Wallflower, the Wallflower 1
How beautiful it blooms 1
It gleams above the ruined tower.
Like sunlight over tombs;
It sheds a halo of repose
Around the wrecks of time;
To beauty give the flaunting rose—
The Wallflower is sublime.
Flower of the solitary place 1
Gray Ruin’s golden crown,
That lendest melancholy grace
To haunts of old Renown :
Thou mantlest o’er the battlement.
By strife or storm decay’d;
And fillest up each envious rent
Time’s canker-tooth hath made.
Whither hath fled the choral band
That fill’d the abbey’s nave ?
WALLFLOWER.
53
Yon dark sepulchral yew-trees stand
O’er many a level grave.
In the belfry’s crevices, the dove
Her young brood nurseth well,
Whilst thou, lone flower, dost shed above
A sweet, decaying smell.
In the season of the tulip-cup,
When blossoms clothe the trees,
How sweet to throw the lattice up,
And scent thee on the breeze !
The butterfly is then abroad,
The bee is on the wing,
And on the hawthorn by the road
The linnets sit and sing.
Sweet Wallflower, sweet Wallflower!
Thou conjurest up to me
Full many a soft and sunny hour
Of boyhood’s thoughtless glee ;
When joy from out the daisies grew
In woodland pastures green,
And summer skies were far more blue
Than since they e’er have been.
Now Autumn’s pensive voice is heard
Amid the yellow bowers;
The robin is the regal bird,
And thou the queen of flowers!
He sings on the laburnum trees.
Amid the twilight dim,
And Araby ne’er gave the breeze
Such scents as thou to him.
F 2
54
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Rich is the pink, the lily gay,
The rose is summer’s guest;
Bland are thy charms when these decay
Of flowers first, last, and best!
There may be gaudier in the bower,
And statelier on the tree—
But Wallflower, loved Wallflower.
Thou art the flower for me !
NARCISSUS.
55
NARCISSUS AND DAFFODIL.
SELF-LOVE.
The ancients attributed the origin of this
flower to the metamorphosis of a beautiful youth
named Narcissus, who, having slighted the love
of the nymph Echo, became enamoured of his
own image, which he beheld in a fountain, and
pined to death in consequence.
Here young Narcissus o’er the fountain stood,
And viewed his image in the crystal flood;
The crystal flood reflects his lovely charms,
And the pleased image strives to meet his arms.
No nymph his inexperienced breast subdued.
Echo in vain the flying boy pursued.
Himself alone the foolish youth admires,
And with fond look the smiling shade desires.
O’er the smooth lake with fruitless tears he grieves ;
His spreading Angers shoot in verdant leaves :
Through his pale veins green sap now gently flows ;
And in a short-lived flower his beauty blows.
Let vain Narcissus warn each female breast
That beauty’s but a transient good at best;
Like flowers, it withers with th’ advancing year.
And age, like winter, robs the blooming fair.
Gay.
56
LANGUAGE OF FLOAVERS.
There are several species of the Narcissus.
That called the Poetic is the largest of the white
kinds, and may be distinguished from all others
by the crimson border of the very shallow and
almost flat cup of the nectary. The double
variety is the most frequent in gardens. The
narrow-leafed crimson-edged Narcissus is the
only one that resembles the Poetic, but it is not
much more than half as large, with narrower
leaves, a flatter form, and the edge of the nec¬
tary more prominent. It flowers earlier than
the other.
The Yellow Narcissus is better known by the
name of Daffodil. By early writers this flower
was considered as a species of lily. It has even
been conjectured that the name is a corruption
of Dis’s Lily, as it is supposed to be the flower
dropped from the chariot of Dis or Pluto, in his
flight with Proserpine.
Shakspeare, in his Winter’s Tale, alludes to
this story, as well as to the early season in
which the Daffodil flowers:
O Proserpina,
For the flowers now that, frighted, thou lett’st fall
From Dis’s waggon : Daffodils
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty.
narcissus.
57
Drayton in his pastorals makes the Daffodil
the same flower with the Lily:
See that there be store of lilies,
(Called by shepherds Daffodillies.)
The Narcissus major, the largest of this fa¬
mily of flowers, a native of Spain, is common
in our gardens, and rarely seen single. Its
magnificent gold-coloured flowers are supported
by a stalk nearly two feet high.
A modern poet has taken the Narcissus for
an emblem of the pains of unrequited love.
Thus, too, the ancients, on account of its nar¬
cotic properties, regarded it as the flower of
deceit, which, as Homer assures us, delights
heaven and earth by its odour and external
beauty, hut, at the same time, produces stupor
and even death. It was therefore consecrated
to the Eumenides, Ceres, and Proserpine, on
which account Sophocles calls it the garland of
the great goddesses; and Pluto, by the advice
of Venus, employed it to entice Proserpine to
the lower world.
In the East, the Daffodil is a particular fa¬
vourite. The Persians call it, by way of emi¬
nence, Zerrin, which signifies golden; and by
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
58
the Turks it is denominated Zerrin Kadeck,
golden bowl.
One of our older poets moralizes upon this
flower in the following lines :—
Fair Daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon ;
As yet the early-rising - sun
Has not attained his noon:
Stay, stay,
Until the hastening day
Has run
But to the even song,
And, having pray’d together, we
Will go with you along.
We have short time to stay as ye,
We have as fleet a spring,
As quick a growth to meet decay
As you or any thing:
We die
As your hours do, and dry
A way,
Like to the summer’s rain,
Or as the pearls of morning’s dew,
Ne’er to be found again.
HAWTHORN.
59
HAWTHORN.
HOPE.
The Hawthorn, or White Thorn, was among
the Greeks a symbol of the conjugal union ; its
blossomed boughs were carried about at their
wedding festivities, and the new-married couple
were even lighted to the bridal chamber with
torches of its wood.
Among the Turks a branch of the Hawthorn
expresses the wish of a lover to receive a kiss
from the object of his affection.
In England, where the hedges, principally
formed of Hawthorn, give such beauty and diver¬
sity to our landscapes, and where the air is per¬
fumed during the season of flowering by the
aromatic fragrance of its blossom, this shrub
held a distinguished place among the May-day
sports of our ancestors. From its flowering in
that month, it received the name of May, by
which it is still more frequently called than by
its proper appellation.
Stow tells us that, on May-day in the morn-
60 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
ing, “every man, except impediment, would
walk into the sweet meadows and green woods,
there to rejoice their spirits with the beauty and
savour of sweet flowers, and with the harmony
of birds praising God in their kind.” People
of all ranks joined in this recreation. Kina'
Henry VIII. rode a-maying from Greenwich
to Shooter’s Hill, with his queen Katherine, ac¬
companied by many lords and ladies.
In the country, the juvenile part of both
sexes were accustomed to rise soon after mid-
night, and walk to some neighbouring wood,
accompanied with music and the blowing of
horns ; there they would break branches from
the trees, and adorn them with nosegays and
crowns of flowers. This done, they returned
homeward about sunrise with their booty, and
decorated their doors and windows with the
flowery spoil. The after-part of the day was
chiefly spent in dancing round a tall pole, called
a May-pole ; w r hich, being placed in a conve¬
nient part of the village, stood there, conse¬
crated as it were to the goddess of flowers,
without suffering the least violation during the
whole year. '
HAWTHORN.
Cl
Herrick, in his beautiful poem of “Corinna’s
going a-maying,” has also given us some idea
of the manner in which this day was kept in
his time.
Come, my Comma, come; and, coming, mark
How each field turns a street, each street a park,
Made green and trimmed with trees; see how
Devotion gives each house a hough,
Or branch; each porch, each door, ere this,
An ark, a tabernacle is.
Made up of white-thome, neatly interwove.
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
Can such delights be in the street
And open fields, and we not see’t ?
Come, we’ll abroad, and let’s obey
The proclamation made for May,
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying ;
But, my Corinna, come 5 let’s go a-Maying.
There’s not a budding boy or girl, this day,
But is got up and gone to bring in May :
A deal of youth, ere this, is come
Back, and with white-thorne laden home ;
Some have despatched their cakes and cream
Before that we have left to dream;
And some have wept and wooed and plighted troth,
And chose their priest ere we can cast off sloth:
Many a green gown has been given,
Many a kiss, both odd and even ;
Many a glance too has been sent
From out the eye, love’s firmament;
G
G2
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Many a jest told of the Key’s betraying
This night, and locks picked; yet we’re not a-Maying.
Come, let us go while we are in our prime,
And take the harmless folly of the time.
Shakspeare notices with what eagerness the
pleasures of May-day morning were pursued in
his time :—
’Tis as much impossible.
Unless we swept them from the door with cannons,
To scatter ’em, as ’tis to make ’em sleep
On May-day morning.
The May-day diversions and May-poles were
not confined to the country. In London there
were anciently several May-poles, the last of
which, near Somerset House, in the Strand,
was not taken down till the year 1717 .
In the scarlet berries of the Hawthorn, which
are called haws, Providence has furnished an
abundant supply of food for the small birds
during winter : and it is a current notion that
“ store of haws portend cold winters.” So says
Lord Bacon, and no doubt experience might
often be found to confirm the observation.
A beautiful variety of this tree, with double
red blossom of extraordinary fragrance, is cul¬
tivated in our gardens.
/ ^v/7 Zh'f7t(/i/ A c //oc/e-t/y /tore /on'
// /' / C /Z /d '
.me ft elect ft t rtf to/t f y - lofc/'.
hiblivlud by Sounders ScOdey Conduit Street.
TULIP.
63
TULIP.
DECLARATION OF LOVE.
In the East, the Tulip is employed as the
emblem by which a lover makes a declaration
of love, presenting the idea that, like that
flower, he has a face all on fire and a heart
reduced to a coal—
Whose leaves, with their ruby glow.
Hide the heart that lies burning and black below.
On account of the elegance of its form, the
beauty of its colours, but its want of fragrance
and other useful qualities, this flower has been
considered as an appropriate symbol of a female
who possesses no other recommendation than
personal charms.
It is supposed to have been brought from
Persia to the Levant, and it was introduced
into Western Europe about the middle of the
sixteenth century, by Busheck, ambassador
from the Emperor of Germany to the Porte ;
who, to his astonishment, found Tulips on the
road between Adrianople and Constantinople,
64
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
blooming, in the middle of winter, intermin¬
gled with the hyacinth and the narcissus, and
could not sufficiently admire their beauty. The
name given to it by Europeans is supposed to
originate in a corruption of the Persian word
dulbend, the muslin head-covering adopted by
the Mahometan nations, which we have trans¬
formed into turban. In a Persian of rank this
article of dress is not unlike the swelling form
of the Tulip. Moore, in his “ Veiled Prophet,”
alludes to this resemblance :
What triumph crowds the rich Divan to-day
With turban’d heads of every hue and race,
Bowing before that veil’d and awful face,
Like tulip-beds of different shape and dyes,
Bending beneath th’ invisible west wind’s sighs!
On their first introduction into Europe, Tulips
became especial favourites of the cultivators of
flowers. From Vienna they soon spread into
Italy, and were sent in 1600 to England. Ele¬
ven years later they were first seen in France,
in the garden of the learned Pieresc, at Aix, in
Provence. In Holland, about the middle of
the seventeenth century, a real mania for pos¬
sessing rare sorts seized all classes of persons.
TULIP.
65
It would be almost impossible to credit the
extraordinary, accounts of the high prices given
in that country for Tulips, did we not know that
it was a rage for gambling speculations, rather
than a fondness for flowers, which occasioned
these excesses. For a single Tulip, to which
the Dutch florists had given the fine name of
Semper Augustus, were given four thousand
six hundred florins (about .£ 400 ), a beautiful
new carriage, a pair of horses, and harness:
another of the same kind sold for thirteen thou¬
sand florins ; and engagements to the amount
of <£5000 were made during the height of this
mania for a single root of a particular sort. A
person who possessed a Tulip of a very fine
variety, hearing that there was another of the
same kind at Haerlem, repaired to that city,
and, having purchased it at an enormous price,
placed it on a stone and crushed it to a mummy
with his foot, exclaiming with exultation, “ Now
my Tulip is unique!” We are also told that
another, who possessed a yearly income of sixty
thousand florins, reduced himself to beggary in
the short space of four months, by purchasing
these flowers. From this spirit of floral gam-
GG
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
bling the city of Haerlem is said to have derived
not less than ten millions sterling in the space
of three years !
It is related that, during the prevalence of
this mania, a sailor, having brought some goods
to a merchant who cultivated Tulips on specu¬
lation, had a herring given to him for his break¬
fast, with which he walked away. As he passed
through the garden, he saw some roots lying
there, and, mistaking them for onions, he picked
them up and ate them with his herring. At
this moment the merchant, coming forward and
discovering what had happened, exclaimed in
despair, “ Inconsiderate man, thou hast ruined
me with thy breakfast! I could have regaled
a king with it.”
If we may believe recent accounts, this fond¬
ness for Tulips still prevails in Holland to such a
degree that a sum equal to £640 was lately paid
by Mr. Yanderninck, a florist of Amsterdam, for¬
merly a captain in the Dutch navy, for the hulh of
a new species called “ The Citadel of Antwerp.”
From the extraordinary favour thus shewn
to the Tulip, the species were soon multiplied
to such a degree, that in 1740, the Baden-Dur-
TULIP.
67
lach garden at Carlsruhe contained not fewer
than two thousand one hundred and fifty-nine
sorts; and the garden of Count Pappenheim
boasted at one time of five thousand varieties.
■ The estimation in which the Turks still hold
Tulips is little inferior to that which they for¬
merly enjoyed in Holland. They are never
tired of admiring its elegant stem, the beau¬
tiful vase which crowns it, with the streaks of
gold, silver, purple, red, and the innumerable
tints which revel, unite, and part again, on the
surface of those rich petals.
And sure more lovely to behold
Might nothing meet the wistful eye,
Than c rimson fading into gold
In streaks of fairest symmetry.
Langhorn.
The bulb or root of the Tulip resembles in
every respect the bud of other plants, except in
being produced under ground, and includes the
leaves and flowers in miniature, which are to
be expanded in the ensuing spring. By the
careful dissection of a Tulip-root, and cautiously
cutting through its concentric coats, lengthwise
from top to bottom, and taking them off suc¬
cessively, the whole flower of the next summer
68
LANGUAGE OF FLOWF.IiS.
with all its parts may be discovered by the naked
eye. A popular poet lias alluded to this cir¬
cumstance in these lines, written “ On planting
a Tulip-root:” —
Here lies a bulb, the child of earth, \
Buried alive beneath the clod.
Ere long to spring, by second birth,
A new and nobler work of God.
’Tis said that microscopic power
Might through his swaddling folds descry
The infant image of the flower,
Too exquisite to meet the eye.
This vernal suns and rains will swell,
'Till from its dark abode it peep,
Like Venus rising from her shell,
Amidst the spring-tide of the deep.
Two shapely leaves will first unfold ;
Then, on a smooth, elastic stem.
The verdant bud shall turn to gold,
And open in a diadem.
Not one of Flora’s brilliant race
A form more perfect can display;
Art could not feign more simple grace.
Nor Nature take a line away.
Yet, rich as morn, of many a hue,
When flushing clouds through darkness strike,
The Tulip’s petals shine in dew,
All beautiful, but none alike.
Montgomery.
HOKSE-CHESNUT.
69
HORSE-CHESNUT.
LUXURY.
It is more than two centuries since the '
Horse-chesnut has been an inhabitant of our
climate ; and nevertheless it is not yet observed
to mingle its superb head with the crowd of
trees indigenous to our forests. Its delight is
to embellish parks, to adorn superb mansions,
and to throw its broad shadow over the palaces
of kings.
One showery day in the commencement of
spring suffices to invest this beautiful tree with
all the richness of its verdure. When it grows
by itself, nothing can he compared with the min¬
gled magnificence and elegance of its pyramidal
form, the beauty of its foliage, and the richness
of its flowers, which give it the appearance of
an immense chandelier covered with innume¬
rable girandoles. Ever attached to pomp and
profusion, it covers with flowers the green turf
which it protects with its shadow, and yields to
pleasure its most delicious seclusion. But to
70
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
the poor it only yields a scanty fuel and a bitter
fruit.
Naturalists and physicians especially have
gratuitously conferred on this native of India
a thousand good qualities which it does not
possess. This beautiful tree, like the rich on
whom it lavishes its shade, obtains flatterers ;
and thus, like them, does some good in spite of
itself; while it astonishes the vulgar by a dis¬
play of useless profusion.
By some it has been regarded as an emblem
of modesty and chastity.
LILAC
LILAC.
FIRST EMOTIONS OF LOVE.
The Lilac has been consecrated to the first
emotions of love ; because nothing possesses a
greater charm than the delight afforded by its
appearance on the return of spring. Indeed,
the freshness of its verdure, the flexibility of its
branches, the profusion of its flowers, their
short and transitory beauty, their soft and varie¬
gated hues — all recall those celestial emotions
which embellish beauty and lend to youth its
“ grace divine.”
Never was Albano able to mingle on that
pallet, which he derived from the hand of love
itself, colours sufficiently fresh and flowing to
represent the velvet softness and delicacy of
the tints which embellish the brow of early
youth. Van Spaendonc himself threw down
his pencil on viewing a groupe of Lilacs. Na¬
ture seems to have delighted in making a
72
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
finished production of each of its delicate clus¬
ters, massive in itself, and yet astonishing by
its variety and beauty. The gradation of its
tints, from the first purplish bud to the blanch¬
ing flower, is the smallest fascination of its
charming blossoms, round which the rainbow
seems to revel and to dissolve into a hundred
shades and colours, which, all commingling in
the general tone and hue, produce a happy
harmony, that might well baffle the painter and
confound the observer.
The Lilac, various in array, now white.
Now sanguine, and her beauteous head now set
With purple spikes, pyramidal, as if,
Studious of ornament, yet unresolved
Which hues she most approved, she chose them ail.
Covvper.
"What immense pains does Nature appear to
have taken to form this fragrant shrub, which
merely seems to exist in order to gratify the
senses! what a union of perfume, grace, and
delicacy! what variety in details ! what harmony
in the assemblage! Doubtless it was destined in
the decrees of Providence to become the future
bond of union between Europe and Asia. The
LILAC.
73
Lilac, which the traveller Busheck brought, in
the sixteenth century, to Europe from Persia,
now grows on the mountains of Switzerland
and in the forests of Germany.
H
74
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
BUGLOSS.
FALSEHOOD.
A celebrated French moralist has observed
that if women were naturally what they become
by artificial means, if they were to lose in a
moment all the freshness of their complexion,
and their faces were to he as flaring and as
leaden as they make them with rouge and fard,
they would go distracted.
Incontestable as this truth appears, it is
equally true that, from north to south and from
east to west, among savage nations and civi¬
lized nations, a fondness for using artificial
means of improving the complexion universally
prevails. The wandering Arab, the sedentary
Turk, the Persian beauty, the small-footed
Chinese, the phlegmatic Russian, the indolent
Creole, and the light and vivacious French
woman, all desire to please, and all resort to
some kind of cosmetics
BUGLOSS.
75
This taste prevails alike in the harem and
in the desert. Duperron relates that a young
savage, wishing to attract his notice, took by
stealth a bit of charcoal, which she reduced to
powder in a corner, rubbed her cheeks with it,
and then came back with a look of triumph, as
if this application had rendered her beauty irre¬
sistible.
Castellan, in his letters on Greece, thus
describes a Greek princess, whose portrait he
painted at Constantinople : “ She was not,” he
says,“ the ideal beauty I had pictured to myself.
Her dark prominent eyes were as bright as
diamonds, but her blackened eyelashes spoiled
their expression. Her eyebrows, joined by a
line of paint, gave a kind of harshness to her
look. Her small mouth and deep-coloured lips
might be embellished with smiles, but I never
had the pleasure to see them. Her cheeks were
covered with a very dark rouge, and her face
was disfigured by crescent-shaped patches. Add
to this the lifelessness of her demeanour and
the freezing gravity of her physiognomy, and
you would suppose that I had been depicting
an Italian Madonna.”
76
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
The Bugloss has been made the emblem of
falsehood, because its root is employed in the
composition of various kinds of rouge ; and that
of which it constitutes the basis is perhaps the
oldest and the least dangerous of all. Nay, it
even possesses some advantages : it lasts seve¬
ral days without rubbing off; water refreshes it
like the natural colours ; and it is not hurtful
to the skin which it is used to embellish. Still,
nothing can imitate the tint of that native mo¬
desty which flushes the cheek of innocence, and
which art destroys beyond repair. Would you
wish to please for a long time, for ever, banish
falsehood from your hearts, your lips, and your
aspect, and he assured that truth alone is de¬
serving of love.
The good taste displayed by the British ladies
of the present day in discarding the barbarous
practice of disfiguring the face by a composition
mask, or an unnatural stain, must be acknow¬
ledged by every one who can recollect the
fashions of the last thirty years.
LILY OF THE VALLEY.
LILY OF THE VALLEY.
RETURN OF HAPPINESS.
The Lily of the Valley delights in shady glens
and the hanks of murmuring brooks, -where its
exquisitely beautiful flower is modestly con¬
cealed amidst the broad, bright green leaves
which surround its delicate and graceful bells.
In floral language it is made to represent a
return of happiness, because it announces by
its elegance and its odour the happy season of
the year.
That shy plant, the Lily of the Vale,
That loves the ground, and from the sun withholds
Her pensive beauty, from the breeze her sweets.
Anon.
The Lily, whose sweet beauties seem
As if they must be sought.
Barton.
And, sweetest to the view,
The Lily of the Vale, whose virgin flower
Trembles at every breeze, beneath its leafy bower.
Id.
78
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
And ye, whose lowlier pride
In sweet seclusion seems to shrink from view.
You of the valley named, no longer hide
Your blossoms, meet to twine the browof purest bride.
Barton.
Fair flower, that, lapt in lowly glade,
Dost hide beneath the greenwood shade,
Than whom the vernal gale
None fairer wakes on branch or spray.
Our England’s Lily of the May,
Our Lily of the Vale;
Art thou that “ Lily of the field,”
Which, when the Saviour sought to shield
The heart from blank despair.
He shewed to our mistrustful kind
An emblem of the thoughtful mind,
Of God’s paternal care ?
Not thus, I trow ; for brighter shine
To the warm skies of Palestine
Those children of the East.
******
But not the less, sweet spring-tide’s flower,
Dost thou display thy Maker’s power,
His skill and handiwork;
Our western valleys’ humbler child,
Where, in green nook of woodland wild,
Thy modest blossoms lurk.
What though nor care nor art be thine,
The loom to ply, the thread to twine,
Yet born to bloom and fade.
LILY OF THE VALLEY. 79
Thee, too, a lovelier robe arrays.
Than, even in Israel’s brightest days,
Her wealthiest king arrayed :
Of thy twin leaves the embowered screen,
Which wraps thee in thy shroud of green.
Thy Eden-breathing smellj
Thy arched and purple-vested stem.
Whence pendent many a pearly gem
Displays a milk-white bell—
Who forms thee thus with unseen hand ?
Who at creation gave command.
And willed thee thus to be;
And keeps thee still in being, through
Age after age revolving ?—Who
But the great God is He ?
Bisnor Mant.
80
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
PRIVET.
PROHIBITION.
“ Why,” said the young mother of a family
one day to the venerable village pastor, “ why
did you not plant a strong quickset hedge round
your garden instead of this weak hedge of flow¬
ering Privet?” The benevolent minister re¬
plied, “ When you forbid your child a hurtful
pleasure, the prohibition is sweetened by an
affectionate smile, by a kind look; and if he is
refractory, a mother’s hand immediately offers
some plaything to pacify him. In like manner,
the pastor’s hedge, while it keeps off intruders,
should not hurt any one, hut offer flowers even
to those whom it repels.”
PERIWINKLE,
81
PERIWINKLE.
TENDER RECOLLECTIONS.
The winds have now purified the atmosphere,
diffused the seeds of vegetation over the earth,
and dispersed the gloomy vapours of winter.
The air is fresh and pure; the sky seems to
expand above our head; the lawns grow vividly
green on all sides, and the trees push forth
their young and verdant buds. Nature is about
to put on her dress of flowers ; hut she first
prepares an harmonious ground for her paint¬
ing ; and, covering it with one general tint of
green, which she varies infinitely, rejoices the
eye and cheers the heart with promise.
We have already detected in shady dells the
violet, the daisy, the primrose, and the golden
flower of the dandelion. Let us now approach
the skirts of the wood ; there the Anemone and
the Periwinkle stretch their long parterre of
verdure and flowers : these two friendly plants
are mutual foils to each other’s charms. The
82 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Anemone has velvet leaves, deeply dentated, and
of a delicate green; whereas, those of the Peri¬
winkle are always green, firm, and shining; its
flower is blue, while that of the Anemone is of
a pure white, tinged with rose colour at the
edge ; and, enduring hut a day, it recalls to us
the happy and fleeting hours of childhood.
In France, the Periwinkle has been adopted
as the emblem of the pleasures of memory and
sincere friendship, probably in allusion to Rous¬
seau’s recollection of his friend, Madame de
Warens, occasioned, after a lapse of thirty years,
by the sight of this flower, which they had ad¬
mired together.
This plant is deeply rooted in the soil which
it adorns. It interweaves the earth on all sides
with its flexible shoots, and covers it with flow¬
ers which seem to reflect and imitate the azure
.of the sky : thus, our first affections, so warm,
pure, and artless, appear to have a celestial
origin. They mark our days with a moment’s
happiness, and to them we owe our sweetest
recollections.
HEATH.
83
HEAT H.
SOLITUDE.
The meadows are covered with flowers, the
plains with waving corn, and the hills with dark¬
some woods. Happy swains !—ye can dance in
the meadows; ye can crown your brows with
the golden wreaths of Ceres ; ye can rest your¬
selves in the shade of the woods—for to the
happy, life is one scene of joy.
As for me, with Melancholy for my guide,
I will stroll to those sequestered spots where
the humble Heath, which delights in solitude,
maintains its ground against advancing culti¬
vation. There, seated beneath the drooping
Broom, I will indulge my gloomy thoughts:
whilst creatures, unfortunate, harassed, and
afflicted, like myself, will collect around me from
all sides. The partridge, chased by our dogs,
after losing her whole family; the doe, pursued
by the hounds; the skulking hare, the timid
rabbit, at first alarmed at sight of me, will by
84 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
degrees become familiar with my griefs: per¬
haps they will even come to my feet to seek
protection from the persecution of men. Ye,
too, will hover round me, industrious bees ; and
if I pluck but a single sprig from the Heath of
your solitary haunts, ye will come to my very
hands for the honey, which ye gather not for
yourselves, but for others. And you, noisy
quails, will measure both for yourselves and for
me the hours which fly away, without leaving
behind me in these wilds either traces or regrets.
Gentle doves, tender nightingales, your sighs
and murmurs were made for fragrant bowers;
but I can no longer muse in their shade. The
voice of the monarch of this solitude scares
you away; for me it has charms : with the first
beams of the moon its melancholy tones will
reach the ear. The owl will then issue from the
hollow trunk of some time-worn oak. Perched
on the boughs which hide his mossy retreat,
his screech affrights the timid maiden, as she
counts the hours of her lover’s absence; it
thrills the mother watching beside the couch on
which fever has prostrated her only child; but
it soothes the unhappy man who has consigned
HEATH.
85
to the grave all that he loved on earth. Often
did that doleful sound awaken thee, unfortunate
Young! speaking to thee of death and eternity:
and if it has not inspired me, as it did thee, with
sublime strains, it has at least given me, like
thee, a distaste for the world and a love of soli¬
tude.
r
86
LANGUAGE OE FLOWERS.
LINDEN TREE.
CONJUGAL LOVE.
The beautiful fable of Philemon and Baucis
caused this tree to be adopted as the emblem
of conjugal love. This couple lived together
in the happiest harmony to extreme old age ;
and, content with their humble hut and the
little which their labour procured them, they
knew no higher wishes or wants. Jupiter and
Mercury one day descended in human form
from Olympus to visit the plains of Phrygia.
Needing refreshment, they called at several
houses, but were refused admittance ; but Phi¬
lemon and Baucis, the poorest couple in that
part of the country; received them in the most
hospitable manner in their mean habitation.
Baucis immediately heated water to wash the
travellers’ feet, and then set before them a
rural repast of fruit, milk, and honey. She
also produced wine, which she had cultivated
LINDEN TREE.
87
and made with her own hands; and, as the
quantity sustained no diminution, the aged pair
discovered from this circumstance the superior
nature of their guests, and hastened to offer up
in sacrifice to them a goose, which they had
reared in their hut. The goose, however,
escaped from their grasp, and sought refuge at
the feet of the gods, who took the bird under
their protection. On rising from the table,
they ordered their kind hosts to follow them to
the top of a neighbouring hill. There they be¬
held a flood sweeping away the houses of their
hard-hearted neighbours, whilst their cottage
stood uninjured amidst the raging waters, and
was transformed into a magnificent temple.
Jupiter then promised to grant them whatever
they wished; but they desired nothing more
than to be the servants of his temple. The
god graciously complied with their request, and
they served in his temple for many years. At
length, as they were one day conversing before
the door of the edifice on the wonder of which
they had been eye-witnesses, Philemon observed
that Baucis was gradually changing into a Lin¬
den-tree, and Baucis that her husband was turn-
88 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
ing into an Oak. They calmly and cheerfully
continued their conversation so long as they
could see, and then took an affectionate farewell
of each other. As trees, they stood for ages
before the temple, and were objects of vene¬
ration to all the adjacent country.
An event of modern times has contributed to
render the Linden not less dear to all loving-
hearts than the preceding legend of fabulous
antiquity. About the year 1790, there dwelt
at Konigsberg, in Prussia, a pair who, united
in affection, were shortly to be joined in the
bonds of wedlock. The wedding-day was already
fixed, when the bride, in the first bloom of
youthful beauty, suddenly fell sick, and in a
few hours expired. Such was the grief of the
lover at the unexpected loss, that he, too, soon
expired: and on the very day on which they
were to have been married, the remains of both
were consigned to one and the same grave.
Here they had reposed for some years, when
over their heads sprang up from one root two
Linden trees, which, firmly entwining each
other, shot up into a crown, that, with its
fragrant blossoms, yearly decks the bridal bed
LINDEN TREE.
80
in which two faithful hearts are inseparably
united.
Among the trees of central Europe, the Lin¬
den is known to attain the greatest age next to
the Oak. Near Neustadt, on the Kocher, in
Wirtemberg, there is a stately Linden, which
for many centuries has attracted the notice of
passengers, and invited them to rest in its shade.
Its trunk is thirty-six feet in circumference.
The branches issue from it at the height of
eight to ten feet in a horizontal direction, and
are supported by pillars, partly of stone, partly
of wood, otherwise they would break down by
their own weight. In 1811, there were one
hundred and twenty such pillars. This Linden
has now withstood time and tempests for at
least six hundred years.
In the cemetery of the hospital of Annaberg,
in Saxony, there is a very ancient Linden tree,
concerning which tradition relates that it was
planted by an inhabitant of Annaberg with its
top in the ground, and that its roots became
branches, which now overshadow a considerable
part of the cemetery. The planter of this tree,
who was buried not far from it, left a sum of
90
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
money, the interest of which is paid, agreeably
to his will, to the chaplain of the hospital, for
delivering a sermon annually, in the afternoon
of Trinity Sunday, beneath this remarkable
tree.
THYME.
91
THYME.
ACTIVITY.
*
Flies of all shapes, beetles of all hues, light
butterflies, and vigilant bees, for ever surround
the flowery tufts of Thyme. It may he that to
these cheerful inhabitants of the air, whose life
is a long spring, these little tufts appear like an
immense tree, old as the earth, and covered
with eternal verdure, begemmed with myriads
of flowery vases, filled with honey for their ex¬
press enjoyment.
Among the Greeks,Thyme denoted the grace¬
ful elegance of the Attic style; because it covered
Mount Hymettus and gave the aromatic flavour,
of which the ancients were so fond, to the honey
made there. “ To smell of Thyme” was, there¬
fore, a commendation bestowed on those writers
who had made themselves masters of the Attic
style.
Activity is a warlike virtue, always associated
with true courage. It was on this account that
92 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
the ladies of chivalrous times embroidered on
the scarfs which they presented to their knights
the figure of a bee hovering about a sprig ot
Thyme; in order to recommend the union of
the amiable with the active.
The Wild Thyme has often been noticed by
the poets:—
No more, my goats, shall I behold you climb
The steepy cliffs, or crop the flowery Thyme.
Dryden’s Virgil.
Guide my way
Through fair Lyceum’s walk, the green retreats
Of Academus, and the Thymy vale.
Akenside.
BUCK-BEAN.
93
BUCK-BEAN.
CALM REPOSE.
Do you observe, along tbe extended banks of
that lake, whose silvery mirror reflects an un¬
clouded sky, those clusters of flowers as white
as snow ? A roseate hue colours the under side
of these beauteous flowers, while a tuft of fibres
of extraordinary delicacy and dazzling whiteness
rises out of their alabaster cups, giving them
the appearance of fringed hyacinths. Expres¬
sion fails to do justice to the elegance of this
plant. To remember it for ever, you need but
to have once seen it gently waving on the brink
of the water, to which it seems to impart in¬
creased coolness and transparency. The Buck-
bean never opens in stormy weather. Tran¬
quillity is requisite to the development of its
blossoms ; but the calm that it enjoys itself it
seems to diffuse on all the objects around it.
The original name of the Buck-bean was Bog-
bane, or Bog-plant, from its place of growth.
94
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
ACANTHUS.
THE ARTS.
The Acanthus delights in hot climates by the
side of great rivers. It thrives, nevertheless,
in temperate climates. The tasteful ancients
adorned their furniture, their vases, and their
costly dresses, with its elegant leaves. Yirgil
says that the robe of Helen was embroidered
with a wreath of Acanthus.
This charming model of the Arts has thus
become their emblem, as it might also he of
the genius which causes its possessor to excel
in them. When any obstacle obstructs the
growth of the Acanthus, it puts forth fresh force,
and grows with additional vigour. Thus genius
is strengthened and exalted by the very obsta¬
cles which it cannot overcome.
It is related of Callimachus the architect, that,
as he was passing near the tomb of a young
female, who died a few days before her intended
marriage, touched with pity, he approached to
ACANTHUS.
95
throw flowers on it. An offering had preceded
his: the nurse of the bride had collected the
flowers and veil which were to have adorned
her on her wedding-day, placed them in a little
basket near the tomb on an Acanthus plant, and
covered it with a large tile. The following
spring the leaves of the Acanthus surrounded
the basket, hut, impeded by the tile, they turned
hack, and bent round gracefully towards their
extremities. Callimachus, astonished at this
rural decoration, which looked like a work of
the weeping Graces, made it the capital of the
Corinthian order—a charming ornament that
we still imitate and admire.
96
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
MYRTLE.
LOVE.
The oak was from the remotest ages conse¬
crated to Jupiter, the olive to Minerva, and
the Myrtle to Venus. Its evergreen foliage and
supple odoriferous branches loaded with flowers,
that appear destined to adorn the forehead of
Love, have rendered this tree worthy of being
dedicated to Venus, the goddess of beauty. At
Rome the temple of the goddess was surrounded
by a grove of Myrtles ; and in Greece she was
adored under the name of Myrtilla. When
Venus rose from the bosom of the waves, the
Hours presented to her a scarf of a thousand
colours, and a wreath of Myrtle. After her
victory over Pallas and Juno, she was crowned
with Myrtle by the Loves. When surprised,
one day, on issuing from the bath, by a troop of
satyrs, she sought refuge behind a Myrtle bush;
and it was with the branches of the same plant
MYRTLE.
97
that slie revenged herself on the audacious
Psyche, who had dared to compare her transi¬
tory charms to immortal beauty.
At Rome, the Myrtle-garland of the Loves
was sometimes mingled, in honour of Mars and
Venus, with the laurel on the triumphant con¬
queror’s brow. And now that triumphs have
ceased at the Capitol, the Roman ladies have
retained a strong predilection for this plant.
They prefer its odour to that of the most fra¬
grant essences, and they impregnate their baths
with a water distilled from its leaves, persuaded
that the plant of Venus must be favourable to
beauty. If the ancients were possessed hy a
similar persuasion, if they truly deemed it the
symbol of love, it was because they had observed
that the Myrtle, wherever it grows, excludes
all other plants. Just so love, wherever it has
established its sway, excludes from the heart
all other feelings.
K
98
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
LUCEUN.
LIFE.
Lucern will occupy the same spot for a long
time ; but when once it leaves it, it is for ever.
This is, no doubt, the reason why it has been
adopted as the emblem of life.
Nothing is more beautiful than afield of Lu¬
cern in flower, spreading itself out to the eye, like
an immense green carpet tipped with violet.
When cultivated, this plant yields abundant
crops, without requiring any care. Cut it down
and it springs up again. The cow rejoices at
the sight of it; it is a favourite food of the sheep,
the horse, and the goat. A native of our cli¬
mate, this valuable gift comes to us direct from
heaven. Its possession costs us no trouble;
we enjoy it without thought, and without gra¬
titude. Very often we prefer to it a flower,
whose only merit is its transient beauty. In
like manner we too often relinquish a certain
benefit to run after vain pleasures, which fly
away and escape us.
HONEYSUCKLE.
09
HONEYSUCKLE.
GENEROUS AND DEVOTED AFFECTION.
Weakness is fond of strength, and often de¬
lights in lending to the latter its own graces.
Thus have I seen a young Honeysuckle lovingly
entwine the gnarled trunk of an aged oak with
its supple and delicate arms. It would seem as
if this slender shrub, whilst climbing upward,
was striving to surpass in height the monarch
of the forest: soon, however, as though finding
its efforts useless, it droops gracefully down, and
encircles the brow of its friend with elegant
festoons of fragrant flowers. Thus love some¬
times unites the timid maiden to the ruthless
soldier. Unhappy Desdemona! it was the ad¬
miration awakened by courage and valour, but
it was also the feeling of thine own weakness,
that attached thy heart to the terrible Othello:
but jealousy caused thy destruction by the very
hand that should have protected thee !
This elegant climbing shrub, which we also
call the woodbine, trained against our English
100
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
cottages, at once delights the eye and gratifies
the smell by the exquisite fragrance of its blos¬
soms ; whilst it confers on those humble dwel¬
lings a character of cheerfulness unknown in
other countries.
A Honeysuckle, on the sunny side,
Hung round the lattices its fragrant trumpets.
Landon.
Copious of flowers, the woodbine pale and wan,
But well compensating her sickly looks
With never cloying odours, early and late.
Cowper.
It begins to flower in May, and continues to
put forth its blossoms till the end of summer.
BROOM.
101
BROOM.
HUMILITY.
In the year 1234, St. Louis of France, after
the coronation of his queen, chose the flower of
this plant as the insignia of a new order of
knighthood. The members of this order wore
a chain composed of flowers of the Broom en¬
twined with white enamelled lilies, from which
was suspended a gold cross,with the inscription:
Exaltat humiles —“ He exalteth the humble.”
With this order he associated a body-guard,
consisting of one hundred nobles, on the hack
and front of whose coat was likewise embroi¬
dered a Broom flower, over which a hand issuing
from the clouds held a crown, with the inscrip¬
tion : Deus exaltat humiles —“ God exalteth the
humble.”
This plant, called in Latin Genista, and in
French Genet, gave the name of Plantagenet to
the sovereigns of England for several centuries.
Lemon, in his “ English Etymology,” says:
102
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
“ Fourteen princes of the family of Plantagenet
have sate on the throne of England for upwards
of three hundred years, and yet very few of our
countrymen have known either the reason of
that appellation or the etymology of it: hut
history tells us that Geoffry, Count of Anjou,
acquired the surname of Plantagenet from the
incident of his wearing a sprig of Broom on his
helmet on a day of battle. This Geoffry was
second husband to Matilda, or Maud, Empress
of Germany, and daughter of Henry I. of Eng¬
land, and from this Plantagenet family were
descended all our Edwards and Henries.”
Skinner assigns a different origin to this illus¬
trious name. He tells us that “ the house of
Anjou derived the name of Plantagenet from a
prince thereof, who, having killed his brother to
enjoy his principality, afterwards repented, and
made a voyage to the Holy Land to expiate his
crime, scourging himself every night with a
rod made of the plant Genet, Genista, Brooni.”
And we are told elsewhere that he was nick¬
named Plantagenet from the use which he had
made of the Broom.
There are three varieties of Broom, with
BROOM.
103
yello-w, white, and purple flowers. The first is
the most common.
Their graves o’ sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon,
Where bright beaming summers exalt the perfume;
Far dearer to me yon lone glen o’ green breckan,
Wi’ the burn stealing under the lang yellow Broom.
Burns.
The wilding Broom as sweet, which gracefully
Flings its long tresses, waving in yellow beauty.
Landon.
The purple heath and golden Broom,
Which scent the passing gale.
Montgomery.
The Broom and the furze are perpetually as¬
sociated. Indeed, the latter is sometimes called
by botanists Genista Spinosa —the thorny Broom,
and provincially whin, or gorse. It grows abun¬
dantly on all our wastes: and it is recorded of
Linneus that, when he visited England in 1736,
he was so much delighted with the golden blossom
of the furze, which he then saw for the first time
on a common near London, that he fell on his
knees, enraptured at the sight. He conveyed
some of the plants to Sweden, but complained
that he could never preserve it in the garden
during the winter.
104
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
SUMMER.
Come away! the sunny hours
Woo thee far to founts and bowers !
O’er the very waters now,
In their play.
Flowers are shedding beauty’s glow:
Come away!
Where the lily’s tender gleam
Quivers on the glowing stream.
Come away!
All the air is filled with sound,
Soft, and sultry, and profound ;
Murmurs through the shadowy grass
Lightly stray:
Faint winds whisper as they pass—
Come away !
Where the bee’s deep music swells
From the trembling foxglove-bells—
Come away!
SUMMER.
10
In the deep heart of the rose,
Now the crimson love-hue glows ;
Now the glow-worm’s lamp by night
Sheds a ray,
Dreary, starry, greenly bright—
Come away !
Where the fairy cup-moss lies
With the wild wood-strawberries.
Come away!
Hemans.
10G
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
ROSE.
LOVE.
Who that ever could sing has not sung the
Rose! The poets have not exaggerated its
beauty, or completed its panegyric. They have
called it daughter of heaven, ornament of the
earth, glory of spring: hut what expressions
could ever do justice to the charms of this beau¬
tiful flower! Look at it gracefully rising from
its elegant foliage, surrounded by its numerous
buds: you would say that this queen of flowers
sports with the air which fans her; that she de¬
corates herself with the dew-drops which im-
pearl her; that she smilingly meets the sunny
rays which expand her bosom. Nature seems
to have exhausted all her skill in the freshness,
the beauty of form, the fragrance, the delicate
colour, and the gracefulness, which she has be¬
stowed upon the Rose. A nd then, it embellishes
the whole earth; it is the commonest of flowers.
hose.
107
The emblem of all ages, the interpreter of all
our feelings, the Rose mingles with our festivi¬
ties, our joys, and our griefs. Modesty borrows
its delicate blush; it is given as the prize of
virtue; it is the image of youth, innocence, and
pleasure ; it is consecrated to Venus, the god¬
dess of beauty, and, like her, possesses a grace
more exquisite than beauty itself.
Anacreon, the poet of love, has celebrated the
Rose in an ode thus rendered by our English
Anacreon :
While we invoke the wreathed spring.
Resplendent Rose ! to thee we’ll sing;
Resplendent Rose ! the flower of flowers,
Whose breath perfumes Olympus’ bowers ;
Whose virgin blush, of chasten’d dye.
Enchants so much our mortal eye.
Oft has the poet’s magic tongue
The Rose’s fair luxuriance sung ;
And long the Muses, heavenly maids,
Have rear’d it in their tuneful shades.
When, at the early glance of morn.
It sleeps upon the glittering thorn,
’Tis sweet to dare the tangled fence,
To cull the timid flow’ret thence.
And wipe, with tender hand, away
The tear that on its blushes lay !
108
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
’Tis sweet to hold the infant stems,
Yet dropping with Aurora’s gems,
And fresh inhale the spicy sighs
That from the weeping buds arise.
When revel reigns, when mirth is high,
And Bacchus beams in every eye.
Our rosy fillets scent exhale, t
And fill with balm the fainting gale !
Oh, there is nought in nature bright
Where Roses do not shed their light!
When morning paints the orient skies,
Her fingers burn with roseate dyes.
And when, at length, with pale decline,
Its florid beauties fade and pine.
Sweet as in youth, its balmy breath
Diffuses odour e’en in death!
O, whence could such a plant have sprung ?
Attend—for thus the tale is sung;—
When humid from the silvery stream.
Effusing beauty’s wannest beam,
Venus appeared in flushing hues,
Mellowed by Ocean’s briny dews ;
When, in the starry courts above,
The pregnant brain of mighty Jove
Disclosed the nymph of azure glance—
The nymph who shakes the martial lance—
Then, then, in strange eventful hour,
The earth produced an infant flower,
Which sprung with blushing tinctures dress’d.
And wanton’d o’er its parent breast.
The gods beheld this brilliant birth,
And hailed the Rose, the boon of earth !
ROSE.
109
With nectar drops, a ruby tide,
The sweetly orient buds they dyed,
And bade them bloom, the flowers divine
Of him who sheds the teeming: vine;
And bade them on the spangled thorn
Expand then - bosoms to the morn.
According to ancient Fable, tbe red colour of
the Rose may be traced to Venus, whose delicate
foot, when she was hastening to the relief of
her beloved Adonis, was pierced by a thorn,
that drew blood,
Which on the White Rose being shed
Made it for ever after red.
Herrick.
Its beautiful tint is traced to another source
by a modern poet:
As erst, in Eden’s blissful bowers,
Young Eve survey’d her countless flowers,
An opening Rose of purest white
She mark’d with eye that beam’d delight,
Its leaves she kiss’d, and straight it drew
From beauty’s lip the vermeil hue.
Carey.
The origin of that exquisitely beautiful va¬
riety, the Moss Rose, is thus fancifully accounted
for:
The Angel of the Flowers, one day,
Beneath a Rose Tree sleeping lay,
L
no
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
That Spirit to whose charge is given
To bathe young buds in dews from heaven.
Awaking from his light repose,
The Angel whisper’d to the Rose :
“ O fondest object of my care,
Still fairest found where all are fair,
For the sweet shade thou’st given to me,
Ask what thou wilt, ’tis granted thee.”
Then said the Rose, with deepening glow,
“ On me another grace bestow.”
The Spirit paused in silent thought—
What grace was there that flower had not ?
’Twas but a moment—o’er the Rose
A veil of moss the Angel throws; \
And, robed in Nature’s simplest weed,
Could there a flower that Rose exceed !
Pfeffel, a German poet, has pleasingly ac¬
counted for the origin of the Yellow Rose, the
emblem of envy, in the following manner :
Once a White Rose-bud reared her head,
And peevishly to Flora said,
“ Look at my sister’s blushing hue—
Pray, mother, let me have it too.”
“ Nay, child,” was Flora’s mild reply,
“ Be thankful for such gifts as I
Have deem’d befitting to dispense—
Thy dower the hue of innocence.”
ROSE.
Ill
When did Persuasion’s voice impart
Content and peace to female heart
Where baleful Jealousy bears sway,
And scares each gentler guest away !
The Rose still grumbled and complained.
Her mother’s bounties still disdained.
Well, then,” said angered Flora—“ take”—
She breathed upon her as she spake—
“ Henceforth no more in simple vest
Of innocence shalt thou be drest—
Take that which better suits thy mind—
The hue for Jealousy designed!”
The Yellow Rose has from that hour
Borne evidence of Envy’s power.
There is another strongly marked variety of
this flower in the Thornless Rose. The author
of that affecting tale, “ The Leper of Aoste,”
asserts that the thorns of the Rose are produced
by cultivation; and this theory naturally sug¬
gested the emblem of ingratitude which has
been adopted. In both these assumptions,
however, there appears to be a wide departure
from the ideas usually attached to a Rose
without a thorn, which would more naturally
present the image of love without alloy.
In the “ Legend of the Rose,” we find this
112
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
account of the origin of the armour by which
this flower is defended:
Young Love, rambling through the wood.
Found me in my solitude,
Bright with dew and freshly blown,
And trembling to the Zephyr’s sighs ;
But, as he stooped to gaze upon
The living gem with raptured eyes,
It chanced a bee was busy there.
Searching for its fragrant fare ;
And, Cupid, stooping too, to sip,
The angry insect stung his Up;
And, gushing from the ambrosial cell,
One bright drop on my bosom fell.
Weeping, to his mother he
Told the tale of treachery,
And she, her vengeful boy to please,
Strung his bow with captive bees,
But placed upon my slender stem
The poisoned stings she plucked from them:
And none since that eventful morn
Have found the flower without a thorn
By the ancients the Rose was regarded as
the emblem of joy. Accordingly, Comus, the
god of feasting, was represented as a handsome
young man, crowned with a garland of Roses,
whose leaves glistened with dew-drops. As it
ROSE.
113
was well known, even in those early times,
that when the heart is full the mouth will run
over, especially during the intoxication of mirth
or of pleasure, the ancients feigned that spor¬
tive Cupid presented a Rose to Harpocrates,
the grave god of silence, and thus made this
flower a symbol of secrecy and silence. As
such, a Rose was fastened up over the table at
entertainments, that the sight of the flower
might remind the guests that the mirthful sal¬
lies in which any of them might indulge were
not to be proclaimed in the market-place. This
custom gave rise to the saying “ Under the
rose,” which was equivalent to an injunction
of secrecy.
The Rose became celebrated in English his¬
tory from its having been adopted in the fif¬
teenth century as the badge of the rival houses
of York and Lancaster, the white being chosen
by the former, the red by the latter. Shak-
speare, in his Henry the Sixth, represents this
feud as having originated in the Temple Garden.
The Earls of Somerset, Suffolk, and Warwick,
Richard Plantagenet, nephew and heir of Ed¬
mund Mortimer, with Vernon, and another
114
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
lawyer, are the characters introduced. Suffolk
says:
Within the Temple Hall we were too loud;
The garden here is more convenient.
Plantag. Since you are tongue-tied, and so loth to
speak.
In dumb significance proclaim your thoughts :
Let him that is a true-born gentleman,
And stands upon the honour of his birth,
If he supposes I have pleaded truth.
From off this briar pluck a White Rose with me.
Somers. Let him that is no coward, nor no flatterer,
But dare maintain the party of the truth,
Pluck a Red Rose from off this thorn with me.
This example is followed by their respective
friends, and, after a threatening altercation,
Warwick, addressing Plantagenet, says :
In signal of my love to thee.
Will I upon thy party wear this Rose :
And here I prophecy, this brawl to-day,
Grown to this faction in the Temple Garden,
Shall send, between the Red Rose and the White,
A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
What torrents of blood were shed in the civil
wars, called the Wars of the Roses, which suc¬
ceeded, history has duly recorded. The subse¬
quent blending of the interests of the two
ROSE.
1 15
houses, and. their union by the marriage of
Henry VII. with the heiress of the York
family, are prettily typified in the colouring of
the York and Lancaster Rose.
In the East, the Rose is an object of peculiar
esteem, and the acceptance of this flower when
offered is a token of the highest favour. How¬
ever interesting it might be to collect the various
oriental legends and traditions in which the
Rose acts a principal part, I must abstain from
the attempt, otherwise this single article might
be swelled to the size of a decent volume, espe¬
cially if I should include the many charming
illustrations of the love of the nightingale for
the Rose. In a fragment by the celebrated
Persian poet Attar, entitled Bulbul Nameh —
the Book of the Nightingale—all the birds
appear before Solomon, and charge the Night¬
ingale with disturbing their rest by the broken
and plaintive strains which he warbles forth in
a sort of frenzy and intoxication. The night¬
ingale is summoned, questioned, and acquitted
by the wise king, because the bird assures him
that his vehement love for the Rose drives him
to distraction, and causes him to break forth
11G LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
into those languishing and touching complaints
which are laid to his charge. Thus the Persians
believe that the nightingale in spring flutters
around the Rose-hushes, uttering incessant
complaints, till, overpowered by the strong
scent, he drops stupified on the ground.
Among the ancients it was customary to
crown new-married persons with a chaplet of
Red and White Roses; and, in the processions
of the Corybantes, the goddess Cybele, the
protectress of cities, was pelted with White
Roses. The pelting with Roses is still common
in Persia, being practised during the whole
time that these flowers are in blossom. A com¬
pany of young men repair to the places of public
entertainment to amuse the guests with music,
singing, and dancing; and in their v ay through
the streets, they pelt the passengers whom they
meet with Roses, and receive a little gratuity
in return.
In the middle ages, the queen of flowers
contributed to a singular popular festival at
Treviso, in Italy. In the middle of the city,
the inhabitants erected a castle, the walls of
which were formed of curtains, carpets, and
ROSE.
117
silk hangings. The most distinguished unmar¬
ried females of the place defended this fortress,
which was attacked by the youth of the other
sex. The missiles with which both parties
fought consisted of apples, almonds, nutmegs,
lilies, narcissuses, violets, but chiefly of Roses,
which supplied the place of artillery. Instead
of musketry, they discharged volleys of Rose¬
water and other liquid perfumes, by means of
syringes. This entertainment attracted thou¬
sands of spectators from far and near, and the
emperor Frederic Barbarossa himself accounted
it one of the highest diversions that he had ever
enjoyed.
In like manner, St. Medard, Bishop of Noyon,
in France, instituted in the sixth century a
festival at Salency, his birth-place, for adjudging
one of the most interesting prizes that piety
has ever offered to virtue. This prize consists
of a simple crown of Roses, bestowed on the
girl who is acknowledged by all her competitors
to he the most amiable, modest, and dutiful.
The founder of this festival enjoyed the high
gratification of crowning his own sister as the
first Rose-queen of Salency. The lapse of ages,
118
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
which has overturned so many thrones and
broken so many sceptres, has spared this simple
institution; and the crown of Roses still con¬
tinues to he awarded to the most virtuous of
the maidens of that obscure village.
STRAWBERRY.
119
STRAWBERRY.
PERFECTION.
One of the most eminent French authors
conceived the plan of writing a general history
of nature, after the model of the ancients and of
several moderns. A Strawberry plant, which
by chance grew under his window, deterred
him from this rash design. He investigated
the Strawberry, and, in doing so, discovered so
many wonders, that he felt convinced that the
study of a single plant, and of its inhabitants,
was sufficient to occupy a whole life. He there¬
fore relinquished his design, gave up the am¬
bitious title which he meditated for his work,
and contented himself with modestly calling it
“ Studies of Nature.”
From this hook, worthy of Pliny and of
Plato, may he derived a taste for observation
and for the higher class of literature ; and it is
there especially that the student will find a
120
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
complete history of the Strawberry. This hum¬
ble plant delights in the shelter of our woods,
and covers their borders with that delicious
fruit, which belongs to any one who pleases to
gather it. It is a charming reserve, which
Nature has subtracted from the exclusive right
of property, and which she rejoices in rendering
common property to all her children.
The flowers of the Strawberry form pretty
bouquets; hut where is the barbarous hand
that, in gathering them, would rob the future
of its fruits! It is delightful to find, among
the glaciers of the Alps, the plants and flowers
of the Strawberry in all seasons of the year.
When the traveller — scorched by the sun,
and sinking with fatigue on those rocks, old
as the world, amidst forests of fir, half over¬
whelmed with avalanches—vainly seeks a cabin
to shelter him, or a fountain to refresh him,
he suddenly perceives troops of young girls ad¬
vancing from the defiles of the rocks, bearing
baskets of Strawberries that perfume the air :
they appear at once on the crags above him
and in the yawning dells beneath. It would
seem as if each rock and tree were guarded by
STRAWBERRY.
121
one of those nymphs whom Tasso placed at
the gate of Armida’s enchanted gardens. But,
though equally attractive, the young Swiss girls
are less dangerous; and, while offering their
alluring baskets to the traveller, instead of
magically arresting his steps, they enable him
to recruit his strength and to renew his jour¬
ney.
The learned Linneus was cured of frequent
attacks of gout by the use of Strawberries.
Often have they restored health to the invalid
when all other medicines have failed. They
constitute a favourite accompaniment of the
lordly feast, and the most exquisite luxury of
the rural repast. This charming fruit, which
vies in freshness and perfume with the bud of
the sweetest of flowers, delights the eye, the
taste, and the smell, at the same time. Yet
there are persons so unhappy as to dislike
Strawberries, and to swoon at the sight of a
rose. Is this astonishing, when there are per¬
sons who turn pale at the sight of superior
merit, or on hearing of a noble action, as if the
sight or record of virtue were a reproach to
themselves? Fortunately, these melancholy
M
122
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
exceptions take nothing from the charm of
virtue, from the beauty of the rose, or from the
perfection which characterizes the most deli¬
cious of fruits.
st. John’s wort.
123
ST. JOHN’S WORT.
SUPERSTITION.
This plant, to which ancient superstition
attributed the virtue of defending persons from
phantoms and spectres, and driving away devils,
whence it was called Fuga Dcemonum, has been
named by modern bigotry St. John’s-wort. For
the same reason it was also called Sol terrestris,
the Terrestrial Sun, because the spirits of dark¬
ness were believed to vanish at the approach of
that luminary. Growing close to the earth, its
large yellow flower, whose hundreds of chives
form so many rays, headed by sparklike anthers,
it reminds us of small wheel-fireworks, and
forms a happy contrast with the azure flowers
of the periwinkle.
It forms an appropriate emblem of supersti¬
tion, but by some is regarded as a symbol of
happiness, on account of the happy confidence
with which it inspires the fond believers in its
imaginary virtues.
124
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
VALERIAN.
AN ACCOMMODATING DISPOSITION.
The Red Valerian grows naturally on the
rocks of the Alps, and, from the facility with
which it propagates itself in the garden or on
old walls, it is made the emblem of an accom¬
modating disposition. If not indigenous in this
country, it is conjectured to have been intro¬
duced very early, on account of the situations
where it is found growing, which are generally
the old walls of colleges, or the ruins of monas¬
tic buildings.
From its predilection for such situations,
this plant no doubt derived its old English
name of Setewale. Chaucer mentions it by
this appellation so long ago as the time of
Edward III. :
Ther spring-en herbis grete and smale,
The Licoris and Setewale;
and Dr. Turner, who compiled his Herbal about
the middle of the sixteenth century, calls it
SetwalL
VALERIAN.
125
The Valerian is too large and scrambling a
plant to hold a place in the parterre of choice
flowers; besides which, cats are so fond of the
smell of its blossom as to he attracted to it, and
by rolling over the plant to destroy its beauty,
as well as that of the contiguous flowers. They
are equally fond of its root, which has a dis¬
agreeable smell: they will roll on it and gnaw
it to pieces with ecstatic delight; and it seems
to produce in them a kind of pleasing intoxica¬
tion.
The root of the Valerian is considered as a
valuable remedy for many of those ailments
which luxury engenders in the human frame;
exerting a peculiar influence on the nervous
system, reviving the spirits, and strengthening
the sight.
31 2
126
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
JASMINE.
AMIABLENESS.
The Jasmine seems to have been created
expressly to be the happy emblem of an ami¬
able disposition. When brought from India,
about the year 1560, by Spanish navigators,
the slenderness of its branches and the delicate
brightness of its starry flowers were univer¬
sally admired : to preserve so elegant a plant,
it was thought necessary to place it in the
hothouse, which seemed to suit it perfectly
well. The orangery was then tried, and there
it grew surprisingly. It was then risked in
the open air, and now, without needing any
sort of care, it withstands the utmost severity
of winter.
In all situations, the amiable Jasmine suffers
its supple branches to he trained into any form
that the gardener chooses to give them: most
commonly forming a living tapestry for our
arbours or the walls of our houses or gardens,
JASMINE.
127
and every where throwing out a profusion of
delicate and charming flowers, which perfume
the air, offering to the light butterfly cups
worthy of him, and to the busy bee abundance
of fragrant honey.
The rustic lover unites the Jasmine with the
Rose to adorn the bosom of his beloved; and
often does a wreath of this simple combination
encircle the brow of the princess.
And brides, as delicate and fair
As the White Jasmine flowers they wear,
Hath Yemen in her blissful clime;
Who, lull’d in cool kiosk or bower,
Before their mirrors count the time,
And grow still lovelier every hour.
Moore.
From the numberless poetical tributes that
have been paid to this plant, we cull the follow¬
ing lines:—
My slight and slender Jasmine-tree,
That bloomest on my border tower,
Thou art more dearly loved by me
Than all the wealth of fairy bower.
I ask not, while I near thee dwell,
Arabia’s spice or Syria’s rose;
Thy light festoons more freshly smell.
Thy virgin white more freshly glows.
128
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
My mild and winsome Jasmine-tree,
That climbest up the dark grey wall,
Thy tiny flowrets seem in glee
Like silver spray-drops down to fall.
Lord Morpeth.
A variety of the Jasmine, with large double
flowers and exquisite scent, was first procured
in 1699 from Goa, by the grand-duke of Tus¬
cany, and so jealous was he of being the sole
possessor of this species that he strictly for¬
bade his gardener to give a cutting of it to
any person whatever. The gardener would pro¬
bably have obeyed this injunction had he not
been in love ; but, on the birthday of his mis¬
tress, he presented her w r ith a nosegay, in which
he had placed a sprig of this rare species of
Jasmine. Delighted with the fragrance of its
flowers, the girl planted the sprig in fresh
mould; it continued green all the year, and
next summer shot forth anew and blossomed.
Instructed by her lover, she soon began to raise
cuttings from this plant and to sell them at a
high price; by this means she amassed a little
fund, which enabled her to marry the gar¬
dener, who was as poor as herself before this
JASMINE.
129
lucky accident. It is said that, in memory of
this event, the damsels of Tuscany still wear a
wreath of Jasmine on their wedding-day, and
that it has given rise to this saying, that “ a
girl worthy of wearing the Jasmine-wreath is
rich enough to make a husband happy.”
130
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
PINK.
PURE LOVE.
The primitive Pink is simple red or white,
and scented; by cultivation, the petals have
been enlarged and multiplied, and its colour in¬
finitely varied, from the darkest purple to the
purest white, with all the hues of red, from the
rich crimson to the pale rose, with which yellow
is also frequently blended. In some of these
flowers we see the eye of the pheasant painted ;
while others are exquisitely marbled, striped,
and figured. In some varieties two opposite
colours are abruptly diversified, while in others
they seem mingled and softened off in shades.
Under all its diversities, however, it retains its
delicious, spicy fragrance, and hence has been
made the emblem of woman’s love, which no
circumstances can change :—
Alas ! the love of woman ! it is known
To be a lovely and a fearful thing;
For all of theirs upon that die is thrown,
And if ’tis lost, life has no more to bring
To them hut mockeries of the past alone.
Byron.
PINK.
131
It is a fearful thing',
To love as I love thee ; to feel the world—
The bright, the beautiful, joy-giving world—
A blank without thee. Never more to me
Can hope, joy, fear, wear different seeming. Now
I have no hope that does not dream for thee ;
I have no joy that is not shared by thee j
I have no fear that does not dread for thee.
L. E. L.
Florists designate two principal divisions of
these flowers, Pinks and Carnations. The
former are marked by a spot resembling an
eye, whence the French name ozillet, and by a
more humble growth. The flower of the Car¬
nation is much larger than that of the Pink.
Some derive its name from the Latin word for
flesh colour, which may have been the original
colour of the flower; but Spenser, who was re¬
markable for his care in retaining the old manner
of spelling, calls these flowers coronations :
Bringe hether the pincke and purple cullambine.
With gelliflowres;
Bring coronations and sops in wine.
Worn of paramours.
They were also called clove-gilliflowers, from
their perfume resembling that of the spice so
called, and sops in wine, because they were on
132 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
that account frequently used to flavour dainty
dishes, as well as wine and other liquors. Thus,
so early as the time of Edward III., Chaucer
says:
Then springen herbis grete and smale,
The licoris and the setewale.
And many a clove gilofre,
-to put in ale,
Whether it be moist or stale.
And Shakspeare makes Perdita say :
The fairest flowers o’ the season
Are our carnations and streak’d gilliflowers.
Those beautifully painted flowers, the Indian
Pink and the Sweet-william, belong to this
family.
Matthisson, a German writer, describes a
scene witnessed by him near Grenoble in France,
which must deeply interest every heart capable
of sympathizing in the feelings of parting lovers.
“ Not far from Susa, where the road of the
Cenis begins to ascend, there is a chapel dedi¬
cated to the Blessed Virgin. Before the simple
altar, surrounded by vases of flowers, where the
image of the Virgin was faintly lighted by a
single lamp, knelt a girl of about eighteen,
PINK.
133
absorbed in devotion, and her dark eyes filled
with tears. She was one of those nymph-like
figures which the magic pencil of Angelica
Kauffmann was fond of transferring to the
canvass. In her clasped hands she held a bou¬
quet of clove carnations, tied with a silk ribbon,
of the delightful colour of hope. With such
devotion prays the saint in that masterpiece of
Garofalo’s, in the cathedral of Ferrara, in whose
folded hands the artist, in allusion to his own
name, has placed a nosegay of the same flowers.
The morning was so lovely and the air so mild
that I had left the carriage to follow me, and
was walking forward alone. Near the chapel
I seated myself on a mass of rock. The girl
rose from prayer, and presently appeared a hale
young man driving three loaded horses. The
moment she saw him she flew into his arms.
Not a word passed on either side. Amidst tears
and kisses, she presented to him the bouquet
of carnations, with an inexpressible look of ten¬
derness, strove to speak, but could not utter a
word. The young man placed the flowers in his
bosom with as much reverence as if they had
been the relics of a saint. The fond girl had
N
134
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
been praying for the safety of her lover during
the dangerous journey on which he was setting
out, and had waited at the chapel for the fare
well embrace.”
VERVAIN.
135
VERVAIN.
ENCHANTMENT.
I wish that our botanists would attach a
moral idea to all the plants which they describe.
They would thus form a sort of universal dic¬
tionary, understood by all nations, and enduring
as the world itself, since each spring would re¬
produce it without the slightest alteration of
the characters. The altars of the great Jupiter
are overthrown; the forests which witnessed
the mysteries of the Druids no longer exist;
the pyramids of Egypt will some day disappear,
buried, like the Sphynx, beneath the sands of
the desert: hut the lotus and the acanthus will
still blossom on the hanks of the Nile; the
mistletoe will still grow upon the oak ; and the
Vervain upon the barren hills.
Vervain was employed by the ancients in
various kinds of divinations : they ascribed to it
a thousand properties, and among others that
of reconciling enemies. Whenever the Romans
136 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
sent their heralds to offer peace or war to
nations, one of them always carried a sprig of
Vervain. The Druids, both in Gaul and Britain,
regarded the Vervain with the same veneration
as the mistletoe, and offered sacrifices to the
earth before they cut this plant in spring, which
was a ceremony of great pomp.
The Druids held their power through the
ignorance and superstition of the people, and,
being acquainted with the qualities of plants
and other objects of Nature, they ascribed their
effects to the power of magic and divination,
pretending to work miracles, to exhibit asto¬
nishing appearances, and to penetrate into the
counsels of Heaven. Although so many ages
have passed away since the time of the Druids,
the belief in their pretended spells is not yet
wholly abolished. Thus, in the northern pro¬
vinces of France, the shepherds still continue to
gather the Vervain, with ceremonies and words
known only to themselves, and to express its
juices under certain phases of the moon. At
once the doctors and conjurors of their village,
they alternately cure the complaints of their
masters or fill them with dread ; for the same
VERVAIN.
137
means which relieve their ailments enable them
to cast a spell on their cattle and on the hearts
of their daughters. They insist that this power
is given to them by Vervain, especially when
the damsels are young and handsome.
Thus Vervain is still the plant of spells and
enchantments, as it was among the ancients.
13S
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
MALLOW.
BENEFICENCE.
This plant was used by the Greeks and Ro¬
mans as an article of diet, as it is still by the
people of Egypt and China. From this ejacu¬
lation of Job—“ Who cut up Mallows by the
bushes and juniper-roots for their meat ?” we
learn that it afforded food in the earliest times
to those wandering tribes which chose rather to
pitch their tents in the wilderness and to depend
on the spontaneous gifts of bountiful Nature
than to dwell in permanent habitations and to
labour for their support.
The common Mallow, the friend of the poor
man, grows naturally beside the brook that
quenches his thirst, and around the hut in
which he dwells; and it borders the road-sides
in most parts of Europe. Though it continues
to blossom from the month of May to the end
of October, yet its flowers never tire the eye,
their petals being of a delicate, reddish purple,
MALLOW.
139
sometimes varying to a whitish, or inclining to
a bluish cast, with three or four darker streaks
running from the base.
The flower, stalk, leaf, and root, of this plant
are all beneficial to man. With its different
juices are composed syrups and ointments,
equally agreeable to the taste and conducive to
health. The way-lost traveller has occasionally
found in its root a wholesome and substantial
food. We need hut look down to our feet to
discover, throughout all Nature, proofs of her
love and provident care; hut this affectionate
mother has often concealed, in plants as well as
in human beings, the greatest virtues under the
simplest appearance.
It is, nevertheless, fortunate for the husband¬
man that Nature should have assigned to the
Mallow a place on the hanks and borders of
fields, and not scattered it over the meadows
where its spreading branches would have in¬
jured the turf, and where, as cattle in general
refuse to eat this plant, it would have soon over¬
run and smothered other vegetation.
140
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
FLOS ADONIS.
PAINFUL RECOLLECTIONS.
Adonis was killed, while hunting, by a boar.
Venus, who, for his sake, had relinquished the
joys of Cythera, shed tears for the fate of her
favourite. They were not lost; the earth re¬
ceived them, and immediately produced a light,
delicate plant, covered with flowers resembling
drops of blood. Bright and transient flowers,
too faithful emblems of the pleasures of life, ye
were consecrated by Beauty herself to painful
recollections!
That this flower owes its name to the fa¬
vourite of Venus is not to he disputed; hut,
whether the goddess of beauty changed her
lover into this plant or the anemone it would
he difficult to decide, since the Linnean system
of dividing plants into families did not exist
when the gods and goddesses made love upon
earth: and, before the time of the Swedish
botanist, the Adonis was classed among the
anemones, which it greatly resembles.
LILY.
141
LILY.
MAJESTY.
The Lily’s height bespake command—
A fair, imperial flower ;
She seemed designed for Flora’s hand.
The sceptre of her power.
The beauty and. delicacy of the Lily have been
celebrated by the writers of all ages. So highly
was it esteemed by the Jews that they imitated
its form in the decorations of their first magni¬
ficent temple; and Christ himself described it
as being more splendid than the great King
Solomon in his most gorgeous apparel.
Observe the rising Lily’s snowy grace,
Observe the various vegetable race;
They neither toil nor spin, but careless glow .
Yet see how warm they blush, how bright they glow.
What regal vestments can with them compare !
What king so shining, or what queen so fair !
Thomson.
According to the heathen mythology, there
was originally only one species of Lily, namely,
the orange coloured; and the white was pro-
142
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
duced by the following circumstance :—Jupiter,
being desirous to render Hercules immortal,
prevailed on Juno to take a deep draught of
nectar; which, having been prepared by Som-
nus, threw the queen of the gods into a pro¬
found slumber. Jupiter took advantage of this
to place the infant Hercules to her breast, that
the divine milk might ensure his immortality.
The infant, in his eagerness, drew the milk
faster than he could swallow it, and some drops
fell to the earth, from which immediately sprang
the White Lily.
The ladies on the continent have long held
in the highest esteem a cosmetic prepared from
the flowers of the White Lily by means of a
vapour-bath. It is said to preserve and improve
the freshness of the complexion, and to remove
pimples and freckles.
STOCK.
143
STOCK.
LASTING BEAUTY.
•This flower, which is now become the pride
of every British parterre, has been made the
emblem of lasting beauty; for, though it is less
graceful than the rose, and not so supurb as
the lily, its splendour is more durable, and its
fragrance of longer continuance. It was one
of the earliest inmates of our garden that was
cultivated by the dames of baronial castles,
whence it was formerly called castle gilloflower
and dames’ violet, for the name of violet was
given to many flowers which had either a pur¬
ple tint or an agreeable smell. The name of
gillyflower was also common to other plants, as
the wall-gillyflower (wallflower) and the clove-
gillyflower, a species of pink or carnation.
Few flowering plants have been so much and
so rapidly improved by cultivation as the Stock.
Within the last two centuries its nature has
144
I.ANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
been so completely changed by the art of the
florist, that what was, in Queen Elizabeth’s
time, but one degree removed from a small
mountain or sea-side flower, is now become
almost a shrub in size, whose branches are
covered with blossoms little inferior in dimen¬
sion to the rose, and so thickly set as to form a
mass of beauty not surpassed by any of the
exotics which the other quarters of the glohe
have poured into our gardens. Phillips men¬
tions a Stock grown at Notting Hill, near Bays-
water, which measured eleven feet nine inches
in circumference, in May, 1822.
Stocks are produced of several colours, hoth
double and single red, white, purple, and spec¬
kled. Of these the bright red or carmine Stock
must ever remain the favourite variety. The
principal branches of this fragrant family are
the Ten-week Stock, so named from flowering
in about ten weeks after it is sown ; and the
Brompton, which does not blossom till about
twelve months after sowing, and was first culti¬
vated in the neighbourhood of Brompton. Phil¬
lips gives an amusing account of the beneficial
effect which the sight and name of this flower
STOCK.
145
had on the spirits of an acquaintance 'with
-whom he was making a tour in Normandy, in
the first summer after the restoration of Louis
XVIII. “ He had been induced to join a small
party and leave his home, for the first time, to
visit the opposite coast •, hut so truly British
were his habits, that nothing could please or
satisfy him. The soup was meagre, the pottage
acid, the peas sweet, the wine sour, the coffee
hitter; the girls brown, their eyes too black,
their caps too high, their petticoats too short,
their language unintelligible ; their houses old,
the inns dirty, the country too open, the roads
too straight: in short, he saw everything with
such discontented eyes as to render the party
uncomfortable, until good fortune led us to a
rustic inn, where, in a small garden, were
growing several fine Stocks, which, he affirmed,
were the first good things he had seen since he
left Sussex. On hearing the landlady acknow¬
ledge them to be de Girofliers de Brornpton, he
insisted on halting at her house, where he
treated the party with a dejeuner d la fourchette,
and left the village with a sprig of the Brornpton
Stock in his button-hole, his eyes sparkling
o
146
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
with champagne and good-humour, which lasted
for the remainder of the journey, during which
he often exclaimed, ‘ Thanks to the Brompton
Stock 1’
MARIGOLD.
147
MARIGOLD.
GRIEF.
I once saw, in a rich gallery of paintings, a
pretty miniature, in which the artist had re¬
presented Grief under the form of a young
man, pale and languishing, whose reclining
head seemed bowed down by the weight of a
wreath of Marigolds.
Everybody is familiar with this golden flower,
which is a conventional emblem of distress of
mind. It is distinguished by many singular
properties. It blossoms the -whole year ; and,
on that account, the Romans termed it the
flower of the calends, in other words, of all the
months. Its flowers are open only from nine in
the morning till three in the afternoon. They,
however, always turn towards the sun, and
follow his course from east to west. In July
and August, these flowers emit, during the
night, small luminous sparks. In this point
they resemble the nasturtium and many other
flowers of the same colour.
148
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
The melancholy signification of the Marigold
may he modified in a thousand ways. Combined
with roses, the symbol expresses the bitter
sweets and pleasant pains of love. Alone, it
expresses grief; interwoven with other flowers,
the varying events of life, the “ mingled yarn
of good and ill together.” In the East, a bou¬
quet of Marigolds and poppies expresses this
thought — “ I will allay your pain.” It is
more especially by such modifications that the
Language of Flowers becomes the interpreta¬
tion of our thoughts. Marguerite of Orleans,
the maternal grandmother of Henry IV., chose
for her armorial device a Marigold turning to¬
wards the sun, and for motto, “ Je ne veux
suivre que lui seul.” By this device the virtuous
princess conveyed the idea that all her thoughts
and affections turned towards heaven, as the
Marigold towards the sun.
One of our older poets thus moralizes over
this flower:—
When, with a serious musing, I behold
The grateful and obsequious Marigold,
How duly, every morning, she displays
Her open breast when Phoebus spreads his rays;
MARIGOLD.
149
How she observes him in his daily walk
Still bending towards him her small slender stalk ;
How, when he down declines, she droops and mourns,
Bedew’d as ’twere with tears till he returns;
And how she veils her flowers when he is gone.
As if she scorned to be looked upon
By an inferior eye, or did contemn
To wait upon a meaner light than him :
When this I meditate, methinks the flowers
Have spirits far more generous than ours.
And give us fair examples to despise
The servile fawnings and idolatries
Wherewith we court these earthly things below,
Which merit not the service we bestow.
Withers.
150
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
MIGNIONETTE.
YOUR QUALITIES SURPASS YOUR CHARMS.
Nearly one hundred years have run their
course since the Mignionette first bloomed in
our climes. It was brought from Egypt. Lin-
neus, who gave to it the name of Reseda odo-
ruta, compares its perfume with that of am¬
brosia : its fragrance is stronger at the rising
and setting of the sun than at noon. Mignio¬
nette flowers from the beginning of spring to
the end of autumn; but, by preserving it in a
temperate green-house, its sweets may he in¬
haled in the winter season. It then becomes
woody, lives many years, shoots up, and forms
with care a shrub of the most charming appear¬
ance.
No gorgeous flowers the meek Reseda grace,
Yet sip, with eager trunk, yon busy race
Her simple cup, nor heed the dazzling gem
That beams in Fritillaria’s diadem.
Evans,
ytur //(C.t ./// ytthJ-i yf'tr v c/ta'r?n*J
t y otc wtv/i' ftfy tt <’ .
fuMishtd by Saunders /* (tt/cy. Conduit Stn ih
\
ACACIA.
151
ACACIA.
FRIENDSHIP.
The Acacia is a Native of Nortli America,
from Canada to Carolina, and it has been con¬
secrated by the Indians to the genius of chaste
love. Their hows are made of the incorruptible
wood of this tree, and their arrows are pointed
with its thorns. Those wild sons of the desert
are susceptible of an attachment fraught with
delicacy: they may perhaps be unable to give
utterance to it in words, hut they find means to
express it in a branch of Acacia when in blossom.
The Indian girl, like the city coquette, under¬
stands this flattering language, and receives,
with a blush, the homage of him who has won
her heart by his respect and love.
It is not much more than a century since
this ornamental tree was introduced into the
gardens of France from American seeds by
Robin, the botanist, after whom this family was
named Robinia. It is a large, handsome tree, of
152
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
quick growth, beginning from the third year to
convert its alburnum into perfect wood, which is
of so fine a grain and so hard as to he substituted
by turners for box in many kinds of light work.
Its foliage, of a bright green, is peculiarly light
and elegant. The species of Acacia most com¬
monly cultivated are the Pseudo-Acacia, with
white blossom, and the Acacia glutinosa, (so
named from a clammy moisture which covers
its branches) with rose-coloured flowers. The
Rose Acacia is a highly ornamental shrub, with
large hunches of pink-coloured, papilionaceous
blossoms, whose beauty, like that of the moss-
rose, is enhanced by the bristly covering of the
stalk and calyx.
THORN-APPLE.
153
I
THORN-APPLE.
DECEITFUL CHARMS.
Too often enervated by luxurious ease, an
indolent beauty languishes the whole day, and
avoids the cheering rays of the sun. At night,
arrayed with all the art of coquetry, she ex¬
hibits herself to her admirers. The unsteady
and delusive light of tapers, aiding her artifices,
lends her a deceptive brilliancy, and she enchants
by charms that are not her own. Her heart,
meanwhile, is a stranger to love: all that she
wants is slaves, victims. Imprudent youth,
flee from the approach of this enchantress!
Nature alone is sufficient, art useless, in order
to please and to love. She who employs the
latter is always dangerous, perfidious.
The flowers of the Thorn-apple, like those
nocturnal beauties, droop while the sun shines
beneath their dull-looking foliage ; but, on the
approach of night, they revive, display their
charms, and unfold their prodigious bells, which
lo4
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Natiwe has coloured with purple, lined with
ivory; and to which she has given an odour
that attracts and intoxicates, hut is so dan¬
gerous as to stupify those who inhale it even in
the open air. The Thorn-apple of Peru is the
most splendid variety of this species, each flower
being often two feet in length; and sometimes
there are one hundred and fifty open at once
on the tree.
It is a dangerous plant to be allowed to grow
where there are children, as the beauty of its
flowers and fruit is liable to tempt them to
their destruction; since it possesses so poisonous
a quality as to produce paralysis and even mad¬
ness in those who have inadvertently eaten of
it. As a medicine, its leaves have been recently
recommended for cough and asthma, dried
and mixed with ordinary or herb tobacco for
smoking.
CAROLINA JASMINE.
155
CAROLINA JASMINE.
SEPARATION.
How many exquisite harmonies arise on
every side of us from the association of plants
with animals! The butterfly embellishes the
rose, the songs of birds enliven the groves, the
bee confers a new charm on the flower about
which it buzzes, and from which it extracts its
sweets. Thus, throughout all Nature, the in¬
sect is adapted to the flower, the bird to the
tree, the quadruped to the plant. Man alone is
capable of discovering these connexions, and he
alone has the power of breaking that chain of
consonance and love by which all things in the
world are hound together. If, with eager and
imprudent hand, he attempts to remove an ani¬
mal from its native home, thinking only of his
own convenience, he usually forgets the plant
which would have reconciled his new slave to
this separation from his birthplace. If he takes
away a plant, he neglects the insect which en-
156
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
livens, the bird which embellishes it, and the
quadruped which feeds upon its leaves and re¬
poses in its shade.
Look at the Carolina Jasmine! With its *
beautiful foliage and scarlet flowers, it remains
an alien among us. For our parts, we prefer to
it our sweet native honeysuckle, to which the
bee resorts to suck its honey, the goat to browse
on its leaves, and flocks of thrushes, linnets
finches, and other small birds, to feast upon its
berries. No doubt the rich Jasmine of Caro¬
lina would counterbalance all these advantages
in our estimation, were we to see it enlivened
by the humming-bird of Florida, which, in the
vast forests of the New World, prefers its
beautiful foliage to that of every other tree.
“ He builds his nest,” says St. Pierre, “ in one
of the leaves of this plant, which he rolls up
into the form of a cone : he finds his subsistence
in its red flowers, resembling those of the fox¬
glove, the nectareous glands of which he licks
with his tongue; he squeezes into them his
little body, which looks in these flowers like an
emerald set in corah and sometimes gets so far
that he may be caught in this situation.” This
CAROLINA JASMINE.
157
little creature is the soul, the life, an essential
accompaniment, of the plant in which he de¬
lights. When separated from her winged guest,
this beautiful creeper is like a desolate widow
who has lost all her charms.
p
158
LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS.
DANDELION.
THE RUSTIC ORACLE.
When you bend your steps through the
plain, or ascend the hill-side, or stand on the
mountain-top, look down to the greensward at
your feet, and you will perceive patches of ver¬
dure, covered with golden flowers, or with light
and transparent globes. It is the Dandelion,
the oracle of the fields, which may be every
where consulted. Like man, it is spread over
the whole face of the globe ; it is found in the
four quarters of the world, near the pole as be¬
neath the equator, on the margin of rivers and
streams as well as on sterile rocks : every where
it offers to the hand that would gather, or the
eye that would consult them, its flowers, which
shut and open at certain hours, serving the soli¬
tary shepherd for a clock, while its feathery
tufts are his barometer, predicting calm or
storm.
DANDELION.
159
Leontodons unfold
On the swart turf their rav-encirclcd goldj
With Sol’s expanding beam the flowers unclose.
And rising Hesper lights them to repose.
Darwin.
She, enamoured of the sun,
At Iris departure hangs her head and weeps,
And shrouds her sweetness up, and keeps
Sad vigils, like a cloistered nun,
Till his reviving ray appears,
Waking her beauty as he dries her tears.
Moore.
Thus in each flower and simple bell
That in our path betrodden lie
Are sweet remembrancers, who tell
How fast their winged moments fly.
Charlotte Smith.
But the globes formed by the seeds of the
Dandelion serve for other purposes. Are you
separated from the object of your love ?—care¬
fully pluck one of those feathery spheres;
charge each of the little feathers composing it
with a tender thought; turn towards the spot
where the loved one dwells; blow, and the
little aerial travellers will faithfully convey
your secret message to his or her feet. Do you
wish to know if that dear one is thinking of you,
as you are thinking of him or her ? blow again;
and if there is left upon the stalk a single
1G0
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
aigrette, it is a proof that you are not forgotten.
But this second trial must he conducted with
great caution. You must blow very gently;
for, at any age, even at that which love renders
most resplendent, it is wrong to dispel too
rudely the illusions which embellish life.
The Dandelion attracts attention at a much
earlier period of life. Friend Howitt speaks of
it as
Dandelion, with globe of down,
The schoolboy’s clock in every town.
Which the truant puffs amain,
To conjure lost hours back again.
POPPY.
1C1
POPPY.
CONSOLATION.
As these plants, or rather the juice extracted
from them, are employed to ease pain and to
procure sleep to the restless invalid, the red
Poppy in floral language is made the symbol of
consolation. The White Poppy is supposed to
express “ My bane, my antidote.”
According to the Grecian mythology, the
Poppy owed its origin to Ceres, who created it
to assuage her grief, during her search after
her daughter Proserpine, who was carried off
by Pluto.
Indulgent Ceres knew my worth,
And to adorn the teeming earth
She bade the Poppy rise.
COWI.EY.
Sleep-bringing Poppy, by the ploughman late,
Not without cause, to Ceres consecrate.
Browne.
The largest heads of the single white Poppy
arc preferred for making opium. These, being
162 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
wounded before they are mature, and while
growing, yield a milky juice ; this, being col¬
lected and dried, becomes opium, of which lau¬
danum is made. According to the quantity
taken, laudanum operates either as a powerful
remedy or a destructive poison.
From a Poppy I have taken
Mortal’s balm and mortal’s bane;
Juice that, creeping through the heart,
Deadens every sense of smart;
Doomed to heal or doomed to kill,
Fraught with good or fraught with ill.
Mas. Robinson.
The Poppy has of late years been extensively
cultivated in this country for the making of
opium, which is found to be equal in all its
qualities to that formerly imported from Tur¬
key. The quantity annually consumed in Eng¬
land is about fifty thousand pounds. In Ger¬
many an oil is extracted from the seed of the
Poppy, that is not inferior to the finest Italian
oils for culinary purposes, if used within the
year.
Many species of Poppies are cultivated in the
garden. The double ones are flowers of sur¬
passing beauty, whether we consider their deli-
toppy.
1G3
cate texture, elegance of shape, or variety of
colouring. But, independently of the flower,
the capsule, or seed-case, alone of the Poppy
cannot he examined without exciting the utmost
admiration of the wisdom with which it has been
formed. It is covered by a shield-formed stigma,
or cap, thickly perforated with holes, to admit
the fecundating particles of the farina to the
channels which are so disposed around the
eleven cells, or chambers, of the capsule, that
each seed receives its regular portion of this
matter by means of an umbilical cord; though
there are frequently six thousand of these vege¬
table eggs enclosed in one capsule. When we
consider that each of these minute seeds is so
admirably perfect as to contain all the essentials
necessary to form in the following year a plant
capable of producing at least twenty capsules,
we cannot forbear exclaiming with the poet:—
How wondrous are thy ways !
How far above our knowledge and our praise !
Pope.
In the time of Gesner, the celebrated bota¬
nist of Switzerland, the village Damons and
Chloes proved the sincerity of their lovers by
1G4
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
placing in the hollow of the palm of the left
hand a petal, or flower-leaf, of the Poppy,
which, on being struck by the other hand, was
broken with a sharp sound, which denoted true
attachment, but faithlessness when it failed to
snap.
By a prophetic Poppy leaf I found
Your changed affection, for it gave no sound,
Though in my hand struck hollow as it lay;
But quickly withered, like your love, away.
CORN.
CORN.
RICHES.
Corn is a term applied to all sorts of grain
fit for food, particularly wheat, barley, oats, and
rye. All of them belong to the grand division
of grasses, which are distinguished from other
plants by their simple, straight, unbranched
stalk, hollow and jointed, commonly called
straw; with long, narrow, tapering leaves, placed
at each joint of the stalk, and sheathing and
enclosing it, as if by way of support.
Ceres, the goddess of com and harvest, was
represented with a garland of ears of corn on
her head. The commemoration of the loss of
her daughter Proserpine was celebrated about
the beginning of harvest; that of her search
after her at the time of sowing corn.
Botanists assure us that corn is not found
anywhere in its primitive state. This plant,
together with the use of fire, seems to have
been bestowed by Providence on man, in order
166
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
to secure to liim the dominion of the earth.
With corn and fire, he may dispense with all
other gifts, or rather, he may acquire them all.
With corn alone he can feed all the domestic
animals, which furnish him with subsistence or
share his labours. Corn is the first bond of
society, because its culture and preparation de¬
mand hard labour and mutual services.
An Arab, having lost his way in the desert,
had been two days without food : death by hun¬
ger stared him in the face. At length, coming
to a well where caravans were accustomed to
halt, he perceived a small leathern bag lying on
the sand. He picked it up. “ God be praised!”
said lie—“ ’tis a little flour, I presume.” He
lost no time in untying it, and, at the sight of
its contents, he exclaimed—“ Unfortunate crea¬
ture that I am ! it is only gold-dust!”
A whole straw has been made the emblem of
union, and a broken straw, of rupture. The
custom of breaking a straw to express the rup¬
ture of a contract may be traced back to an
early period of French history, and may be
almost said to have had a royal origin. The
ancient chroniclers relate that, in 922, Charles
CORN.
1G7
the Simple, finding himself abandoned by the
principal lords of his court, had the imprudence
to call a meeting of the Champ de Mai at Sois-
sons. There he sought friends, but found only
factious opponents,whose audacity was increased
by his weakness. Some reproached him with
indolence, prodigality, and his blind confidence
in his minister Haganon ; others with his dis¬
graceful concessions to Raoul, the Norman
chieftain. Surrounded by the seditious crowd,
he had recourse to entreaties and promises,
hoping to escape from them by fresh conces¬
sions ; but in vain. The more he betrayed his
weakness the bolder they grew, and at length
they declared that he should no longer be their
king. At these words, pronounced with vehe¬
mence, and accompanied with threats, they ad¬
vanced to the foot of the throne, broke the
straws which they held in their hands, dashed
them to the ground, and retired, after declaring
by this act that they thus broke all compacts
with him.
This is the most ancient instance-of the kind
on record; but it proves that this method of
breaking contracts had long been customary ;
1G8
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
since the great vassals thought it unnecessary
to accompany the act with a single word of ex¬
planation. They were sure of being understood,
and they were so.
YELLOW DAY LILY.
1G9
YELLOW DAY LILY.
COQUETRY
This fragile beauty is made the emblem of
coquetry, because its flower seldom lasts a
second day: hence the French have named it
Belle dejour, and it has been thus characterized
by one of their poets :
Aux feux dont l’air etinceUe
S’ouvre la Belle de jour;
Zephyr la flatte de l’aile :
La friponne encore appelle
Les papillons d’alentour.
Coquettes, e’est votre embleme :
Le grand jour, le bruit vous plait,
Briller est votre art supreme;
Sans dclat le plaisir mOme
Devient pour vous sans at trait.
It flowers in June, and though the blossoms
are so short-lived, yet they are followed by a
succession of others, so that the plant continues
to display its beauty, and to give out its agree¬
able fragrance, for a considerable time.
Q
170
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
SENSITIVE PLANT.
CHASTITY.
The Sensitive Plant is so called from its
motions imitating the sensibility of animal life.
The plants of this genus naturally contract
themselves in the evening, and expand with
the morning’s light, and they are still more re¬
markable for shrinking from external violence,
and folding up their leaves at the mere approach
of one’s hand.
Whence does it happen that the plant, which well
We name the Sensitive, should move and feel ?
Whence know her leaves to answer her command,
And with quick horror fly the neighbouring hand ?
Prior,
These are questions which naturalists have
not yet been able to answer. Darwin asks:
“ May it not be owing to a numbness, or para-
lysis, consequent to too violent irritation, like
the fainting of animals from pain or fatigue ?”
SENSITIVE PLANT.
171
The same writer thus characterizes the general
habits of this plant:
Weak, with nice sense, the chaste Mimosa stands,
From each rude touch withdraws her timid hands:
Oft as light clouds pass o’er the summer’s glade,
Alarm’d she trembles at the moving shade,
And feels, alive through all her tender form,
The whisper’d murmurs of the gathering storm;
Shuts her sweet eyelids to approaching night,
And hails with freshen’d charms the rosy light.
Her susceptibility, however, even in the
highest degree of excitement, never instigates
her to injure the indiscreet hand which touches
her, but only to draw back from it. The Sen¬
sitive Plant strives neither to punish nor to re¬
venge herself. Like those modest females who
never think of arming themselves with severity,
she uses not her thorny bristles; she merely
shrinks from the approach of the intruder. The
violet is the emblem of that retiring modesty
which proceeds from reflection; but the Sen¬
sitive Plant is a perfect image of innocence and
virgin modesty. She suspects no harm, because
she knows none, and shews herself without mis¬
trust : but as soon as she is gazed at too closely,
172 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
slie withdraws herself as much as possible from
the inquisitive eye. This modesty appears to
he in her an instinct, a sense, and not the result
of reflection. ;
AUTUMN.
173
AUTUMN.
Attemper’d suns arise,
Sweet-beam’d and shedding oft through lucid clouds
A pleasing calm; while, broad and brown below.
Extensive harvests hang the heavy head.
Rich, silent, deep, they stand; for not a gale
Rolls its light billows o’er the bending plain :
A calm of plenty !
Thomson.
Who loves not Autumn’s joyous round,
When corn, and wine, and oil abound ?
Yet who would choose, however gay,
A year of unrenewed decay ?
Montgomery.
No spring or summer’s beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one Autumnal face.
Donne.
Autumn tinges every fertile branch
With blooming gold, and blushes like the morn.
Akenside.
2
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
174-
Go to the silent Autumn woods !
There has gone forth a spirit stern ;
Its wing has waved in triumph here,
The spring’s green tender leaf is sere,
And withering hangs the summer fern.
Mary Howitt.
In our favoured country. Spring is clothed
in a green robe enamelled with flowers, which
owes all its ornaments to Nature. Summer,
crowned with blue-bottles and wild poppies,
proud of her golden harvests, receives from the
hand of man part of her decorations; whilst
Autumn appears laden with fruit brought to
perfection by his industry. Here the juicy peach
is tinged with the colours of the rose ; the fine-
flavoured apricot borrows the gold that glows
in the bosom of the ranunculus; the grape
decks itself with the purple of the violet; and
the apple with the varied hues of the gaudy
tulip. All these fruits are so like flowers, that
one would suppose them to have been made
only to delight the eye : but yet they come to
increase the abundance of our stores, and Au¬
tumn, which pours them upon our tables, seems
to proclaim that they are the last gifts which
Nature means to lavish upon us.
AUTUMN.
175
But a new Flora suddenly makes her appear¬
ance, the offspring of commerce and industry.
She was unknown to Greece in her best days,
and to our simple forefathers. Roving about
incessantly over the earth, she enriches us with
the productions of every country. She comes,
and our dull and forsaken gardens acquire fresh
splendour. The China aster is intermingled
with the beauteous pink of India; the mignio-
nette from the hanks of the Nile grows at the
foot of the eastern tuberose ; the heliotrope, the
nasturtium, and the nightshade of Peru, blos¬
som beneath the beautiful acacia of Constan¬
tinople ; the Persian jasmine unites with that
of Carolina to cover our arbours and to embel¬
lish our bowers; the hollyhock and the Passion
flower, also denominated the Jerusalem cross,
which reminds us of the Crusades, raise their
splendid heads beside the persicaria of the East;
and Autumn, which could formerly find nothing
but ears of corn and vine-leaves to compose a
garland for her brows, is now astonished to find
herself crowned with such rich adornments, and
to he enabled to mingle with them the ever-
flowering rose of the plains of Bengal.
I
176 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Dearly do I love to observe these beautiful
strangers, which have retained amongst us their '
native instincts and habits. The sensitive plant
shrinks from my hand, as it does from that of
the American savage ; the African marigold pre¬
dicts to me, as to the black inhabitants of the
desert, dry or rainy weather; the day-lily of
Portugal tells me that in an hour it will be
noon ; and the Peruvian nightshade informs the
timid lover that the trysting-hour is at hand.
FORGET-ME-NOT.
177
FORGET-ME-NOT.
The name of this beautiful little flower, which
enamels the hanks of our rivers with its corollas
of celestial blue, corresponds with the signifi¬
cation that is now universally attached to it.
That name is derived from a German tradition
full of melancholy romance. It is related that
a young couple, on the eve of being united,
whilst walking along the delightful hanks of the
Danube, saw a cluster of these lovely flowers
floating on the stream, which was hearing it
away. The affianced bride admired the beauty
of the flower, and lamented its fatal destiny.
The lover plunged into the water to secure it;
no sooner had he caught it than he found him¬
self sinking, hut, making a last effort, he threw
it on the hank at the feet of his betrothed,
and, at the moment of disappearing for ever,
exclaimed Vergiss mein nicht ! Since that event,
this flower has been made emblematical of the
sentiment, and been distinguished by the name
of Forget-me-not. Its Linnean appellation is
178
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Myosotis palustris, and its common English
name, Mouse-ear Scorpion-grass.
It is not surprising that the Forget-me-not
should have become a favourite with our own
poets as well as those of Germany. In Gdthe’s
“ Lay of the Imprisoned Knight,” translated
by Lord Francis Leveson Gower, are these
stanzas:
Not on the mountain’s shelving side,
Nor in the cultivated ground,
Nor in the garden’s painted pride,
The flower I seek is found.
Where Time on sorrow’s page of gloom
Has fix’d its envious lot.
Or swept the record from the tomb,
It says Forget me not.
And this is still the loveliest flower.
The fairest of the fair.
Of all that deck my lady’s bower,
Or bind her floating hair.
It has been figured as a device on the seals
of lovers, who have sung its praises in their
verses:
To flourish in my favourite bower.
To blossom round my cot,
I cultivate the little flower
They call Forget-me-not.
FORGET-ME-NOT.
179
It springs where Avon gently flows
In wild simplicity,
And ’neath my cottage-window grows,
Sacred to love and thee.
This pretty little flowret’s dye
Of soft cerulean blue,
Appears as if from Ellen’s eye
It had received its hue.
Though oceans now betwixt us roar,
Though distant be our lot,
Ellen ! though we should meet no more,
Sweet maid. Forget me not!
The Myosotis palustris is nowhere found in
greater perfection and abundance than on the
bank of a stream near Luxemburg, which springs
from the foot of an oak, that appears as old as
the world, and, forming a number of little cas¬
cades, descends into an extensive plain. It is
only the bank most exposed to the south that is
thickly bordered by the Forget-me-not, and the
plants hanging down seem to delight in look¬
ing at themselves in the crystal mirror of the
stream, which is called The Fairies’ Bath, or the
Cascade of the Enchanted Oak. To this favou¬
rite spot the young females often descend from
the ramparts of the city, on holidays, to dance
180
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
near the hrook. To see them crowned with the
flowers that line its hank, you would take them
for Nymphs holding their revels in honour of
the Naiad of the Enchanted Oak.
For some years this little flower has heen
cultivated in France with the greatest care,
and it finds a ready sale in the markets of Paris.
Phillips recommends its cultivation for the
same purpose in this country, particularly to
cottagers who live near towns; “ as, hy trans¬
planting the trailing branches from their bor¬
ders into small pots, they would find it a profit¬
able employ to send them to market, for few
people would withstand the temptation to pur¬
chase these interesting flowers, that carry in
their eye the tale of Forget-me-not.”
The same writer says he has heen informed
that “ the decoction or the juice of this plant
has the peculiar property of hardening steel;
and that, if edge-tools of that metal he made
red-hot, and then quenched in the juice, and
this process he repeated several times, the steel
will become so hard as to cut iron, and even
stone, without turning the edge.”
CHINA ASTER.
181
CHINA ASTER.
VARIETY.
The numerous family of radiated flowers
were named Aster, from the Greek word, signi¬
fying Star. Our European gardens are in¬
debted for the China Aster to Father d’lncar-
ville, a Jesuit missionary, who, about the year
1730, sent seeds of it to the royal garden at
Paris. At first the plants produced only single
flowers of one uniform colour; hut, through
cultivation and change of soil, double varieties
were obtained, and so diversified in colour, that
they form one of the principal ornaments of our
parterres from July to November; and the China
Aster is thence made the emblem of variety.
In like manner, study is capable of multiplying
without limit the graces and refinements of the
uncultivated mind. Brilliant and majestic, the
Aster does not pretend to rival the rose, hut it
succeeds her, and consoles us in autumn for her
absence.
n
182
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
It was at first supposed that the Chinese
were acquainted only with the single purple
Aster that was sent to France : hut they possess
all the varieties which we admire, and display a
taste in the arrangement of these star-formed
flowers which leaves the British florist far in
the hack-ground. Even our most curious ama¬
teurs have yet to learn what effect these plants
are capable of producing by their gay corollas,
when carefully distributed by the hand of taste.
Figure to yourself for instance a bank sloping
to a piece of water, covered with these gay
flowers, so arranged as to rival the richest pat¬
terns of Persian carpets, or the most curious
figures that can be devised by the artist in
filigree. Imagine them reflected in the water,
and you will have a faint idea of the enchanting
effect produced by these brilliant stars in the
gardens of China.
I once attempted this kind of decoration, of
which a celebrated traveller had talked to me
a great deal, but failed to produce the full effect
intended, owing to the lack of that profusion of
flowers, that variety of shades of the same
colour, and, above all, that admirable Chinese
CHINA ASTER.
183
patience which conquers all obstacles. My little
theatre, however, which was rather disposed in
stripes than in steps, delighted all who beheld
it; and many were astonished, as well as my¬
self, that nothing of the kind had ever yet been
attempted for the decoration of our gardens or
to set off our festivities.
184
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
TUBEROSE.
DANGEROUS PLEASURES.
This superb child of the East, to which Lin-
neus gave by way of eminence the epithet Po-
lianthes, from two Greek words signifying a
town and a flower, because it is generally culti¬
vated and sold in towns, was first brought from
Persia to France in 1632. It was then but
single, and double flowers were not produced
till long afterwards by a skilful florist of Leyden,
named Lecour. It has since spread over all the
world. In Russia, indeed, it flowers only for
sovereigns and the great; but it has become
naturalized in Peru, where it grows without
culture, and unites with the glowing nastur¬
tium to' adorn the bosom of the American
beauty.
The flower of the Tuberose, which grows on
the top of a very tall, slender stem, is of a
white colour, sometimes tinged with a blush of
pink. Its perfume is delicious, rich, and power-
TUBEROSE.
185
ful. If you would enjoy it without danger, keep
at some distance from the plant. To increase
ten-fold the pleasure which it affords, come with
the object of your affection to inhale its perfume
by moonlight, when the nightingale is pouring
forth his soul in song :
The Tuberose, with her silvery light.
That in the gardens of Malay
Is call’d the mistress of the night,
So like a bride, scented and bright,
She comes out when the sun’s away.
Moore.
Then, by a secret virtue, these grateful odours
will add an inexpressible charm to your en¬
joyment; but if, regardless of the precepts of
moderation, you will approach too near, this
divine flower will then be but a dangerous en¬
chantress, which will pour into your bosom a
deadly poison. Thus the love which descends
from heaven purifies and exalts the delights of
a chaste passion; but that which springs from
the earth proves the bane and the destruction
of imprudent youth.
1ST,
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
PERUVIAN HELIOTROPE.
DEVOTED ATTACHMENT.
This flower has been confounded with the
sunflower, though it is of a different genus,
and totally unlike the latter. To both has been
ascribed the property of turning towards the
sun, and following his course round the horizon;
a property not confined to these flowers, as
there are others that do the same in a greater
or less degree.
The blossoms of the Heliotrope form clusters
of very small,delicate,fragrant flowers, generally
of a faint purple colour, or white, sometimes
red, and bluish white. It is, as its name implies,
a native of Peru, where it was discovered by
the celebrated Jussieu. While botanizing one
day in the Cordilleras, he suddenly found him¬
self overpowered by an intoxicating perfume.
He looked around, expecting to find some
gaudy flower or other from which it proceeded,
but could perceive nothing but some handsome
PERUVIAN HELIOTROPE.
1S7
bushes, of a light green, the extremities of
■whose sprays were tipped with floAvers of a faint
blue colour. He went up to these bushes, which
Avere about six feet high, and saw that the
flowers which they bore Avere all turned towards
the sun. Struck with this peculiarity, the
learned botanist gave to the plant the name of
Heliotrope, and, collecting some of its seeds, he
sent them to the royal garden at Paris, where
the Heliotrope was first cultivated in 1740. It
has since spread to all the countries of Europe,
and though there is nothing striking in its ap¬
pearance, it has become a general favourite with
the fair sex.
An anonymous poet has drawn from this
flower a signification the very reverse of that
which Are have attached to it:
There is a flower,, whose modest eye
Is turned with looks of light and love,
Who breathes her softest, sweetest sigh,
Whene’er the sun is bright above.
Let clouds obscure, or darkness veil,
Her fond idolatry is fled;
Her sighs no more their sweets exhale,
The loving eye is cold and dead.
188
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Canst thou not trace a moral here,
False flatterer of the prosperous hour ?
Let but an adverse cloud appear,
And thou art faithless as the flow’r.
/
is-e
JUblished by Saunders X- dttey Conduit Street.
SUNFLOWER.
189
SUNFLOWER.
FALSE RICHES.
The Sunflower has been thus named from
the resemblance which its broad golden disk
and surrounding rays hear to the sun. On this
account it was used in its native country by the
Peruvians, who worshipped that luminary—the
virgins who officiated in the Temple of the Sun
being crowned with Sunflowers of pure gold,
wearing them also at their bosoms, and carrying
them in their hands. These golden flowers,
reflecting the rays of their deity, formed a scene
of dazzling brilliancy. The first Spaniards who
arrived in Peru were amazed at this profuse
display of gold, hut they were still more asto¬
nished when in May they beheld whole fields
covered with these flowers, which they concluded
at first sight to be composed of the same pre¬
cious metal.
The Sunflower has been made the emblem of
190
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
false wealth, because gold, however abundant,
cannot of itself render a person truly rich. It
is related that Pythes, a rich Lydian, the owner
of several gold-mines, neglected the cultivation
of his lands, which naturally became so unpro¬
ductive as not to afford the necessaries of life.
His wife, who proved herself possessed of as
much good sense as wit, at a supper which
Pythes had ordered her to prepare, caused all
the dishes to he filled with representations of
the different viands in gold. On the removal
of the covers she said to the guests: “ I set
before you such fare as we have; for we cannot
reap what we do not sow.” This lesson made
a due impression on the mind of Pythes, who
acknowledged that Providence distributes its
gifts like an affectionate mother, who has a
love for all her offspring, however numerous.
The French call this flower Tournesol as well
as Soleil, from a vulgar error that the blossoms
turn to the sun. The fact is, that the flowers
branch out on all sides of the plant, and those
which face the east at the opening of day, never
turn to the west at the close of it. Many of
our, poets, however, have adopted the popular
SUNFLOWER.
191
notion that this flower regularly turns to tire
sun :
But one, the lofty follower of the sun,
Sad when he sets, shuts up her yellow leaves,
Drooping all night, and, when he warm returns,
Points her enamour’d bosom to his ray.
Thomson.
Moore, in his Irish Melodies, introduces the
same notion :
As the Sunflower turns to her god, when he sets,
The same look which she turn’d when he rose.
Darwin also says of the Sunflower that it
Climbs the upland lawn,
And bows in homage to the rising dawn,
Imbibes with eagle eye the golden ray,
And watches, as it moves, the orb of day.
Uplift, proud Sunflower, to thy favourite orb.
That disk whereon his brightness seems to dwell,
And, as thou seem’st his radiance to absorb,
Proclaim thyself the garden’s sentinel.
Barton.
This notion is, no doubt, derived from the
classic legend of the nymph Clytia, who was
beloved by Helios. When, however, he trans-
192 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
ferred his affections to Leucothoe, the daughter
of King Orchamos, the jealous Clytia commu¬
nicated the affair to the father, who cruelly put
his daughter to death. Helios was so indignant
at the conduct of Clytia, that he could not for¬
give her, and wholly withdrew his affections.
Overwhelmed with grief, she threw herself on
the ground, and there lay for nine days and
nights without taking any sustenance, and her
eyes fixed on the sun, the type of her lover.
At length the gods, moved with compassion by
her sorrow and contrition, transformed her into
a Sunflower, which was believed constantly to
turn its face towards the sun, as if to imbibe
life and warmth from his rays.
In its native country, Peru and Mexico, the
Sunflower is said to grow to the height of
twenty feet or more, and to produce flowers
about two feet in diameter. Gerard, the first.
English writer who notices this plant, which
he calls “ The Flower of the Sunne, or the
Marigolde of Peru,” tells us that he had grown
it in his garden at Holborn to the height of
fourteen feet, and producing flowers that mea¬
sured sixteen inches over.
SUNFLOWER.
193
It has been ascertained that a single Sun¬
flower may produce upwards of two thousand
seeds. These seeds when peeled have a taste
similar to that of sweet almonds, and they are
excellent food for fattening domestic poultry.
In the United States of America, the Sunflower
is cultivated on a large scale for the purpose of
making from the seeds an oil that is good-tasted,
and fit for salads and all the purposes for which
olive-oil is used. Hence it is evident that the
Sunflower might with as much justice have been
made the emblem of true as of false riches.
s
194
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
HOLLYHOCK.
AMBITION.
The towering height of this majestic plant
renders it an appropriate emblem of ambition.
It is a native of the East Indies, China, Siberia,
and Africa. From the French name, Rose de
Damas, or Rose d’Outremer, it is surmised that
the Hollyhock was first brought to Europe from
Syria at the time of the Crusades.
We have few flowers that contribute more
to the embellishment of large gardens than the
Hollyhock, whose noble stems appear like so
many banners garnished with roses of every
variety of colour, from the palest blush to the
deepest carmine, and from a faint white, through
every shade of yellow, to the richest orange,
from which the colour is carried on to a dark
chesnut. Others are dyed of a reddish pimple,
deepening to black. These give gaiety to the
shrubbery till a late season of the year, throw¬
ing out a succession of flowers till the arrival of
frost.
HOLLYHOCK.
195
Phillips in his “ Flora Historica,” indulges
in the following pleasing speculations respect¬
ing this flower:—“ When the children of the
lower classes of society have become more civi¬
lized, and their parents sufficiently enlightened
to instruct them in their duty, so that their
amusement may not consist in idly destroying
what cannot benefit them, hut materially injures
their more polished neighbours, the Hollyhock
will he planted in the hedges of our fields, and
the whole appearance of the country be much
improved by relieving the uniformity of the
generality of fences. Considerable benefit would
at the same time be received by those cottagers
who have the prudence to give attention to the
hive; since the late season at which the Holly¬
hock flowers gives the bees an opportunity to
make a second season for collecting then'
sweets.”
From the nectaries of Hollyhocks
The humble bee, e’en till he faints, will sip.
H. Smith.
It is now known that the Hollyhock may be
employed for other economical purposes besides
the feeding of bees. It has been ascertained
196
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
that good strong cloth may he made from the
fibrous bark of its flower-stalks. In 1821 , two
hundred and eighty acres of land near Flint, in
Wales, were planted with the common Holly¬
hock for this manufacture; in the process of
which it was discovered that the plant yields a
fine blue dye, equal in beauty and permanence
to the best indigo.
MAIDEN HAIR.
197
MAIDEN HAIR.
SECRECY.
Up to the present day, botanists have in vain
studied this plant, which seems to conceal from
the most searching examination the secret of
its flowers and seed, confiding to Zephyr alone
the invisible germs of its young family. That
deity selects a spot for the cradle of its offspring.
Sometimes he delights to form with its long
tresses the dark veil hung before some cavern,
in which the solitary Naiad has slept ever since
the beginning of ages ; at others, hearing them
on his wings, he fixes them like verdant stars
on the top of the towers of some old castle, or,
disposing them in light festoons, he adorns with
them the cool and shady spots which the herds¬
man loves. Thus this species of fern, which
baffles the researches of Science, and conceals
its origin from the most piercing eyes, does not
withhold its benefits from those who solicit
them.
198
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
MEADOW SAFFRON.
MY BEST DAYB ARE PAST.
When the leaves begin to fall from the trees,
a flower resembling the crocus springs up amidst
the grass of the damp meadows : but, instead of
being, like the crocus, the harbinger of joy and
hope, it proclaims to all Nature that the bright
days of summer are over. This flower is the
Meadow Saffron, or Colchicum autumnale, sup¬
posed to be so named from Colchis, in Asia,
where it is said to grow in abundance.
According to fabulous history, this autumnal
flower owes its origin to some drops of the
magic liquor, prepared by Medea to restore the
aged iEson to the bloom and vigour of youth,
which were spilt in the fields.
The foaming juices now the brink o’erswell;
The barren heath, where’er the liquor fell.
Sprang out with vernal grass, and all the pride
Of blooming May.
Tate’s Ovid.
MEADOW SAFFRON.
199
In such a night
Medea gathered the enchanted herbs
That did renew old yEson.
Shakspeare.
It lias been suggested also that, as Medea is
sometimes called Colchis, it was this plant that
relieved JEson from his infirmities. Hence it
came to he considered as a preservative against
all sorts of diseases. The Swiss hang it round
their children’s necks, and imagine them to he
thenceforth exempt from every kind of ailment.
Most superstitious notions, however, ridicu¬
lous as they may now appear, originated in the
first instance in some reasonable opinion. Could
we divest the tales of antiquity of their fabulous
dress, we should probably find them all expla¬
natory of real events. In this case, we should
perhaps discover that Medea, having relieved
/Eson from a fit of the gout, his subjects cele¬
brated her praise for having restored their sove¬
reign to youthful sprightliness. This interpre¬
tation is rendered the more plausible by the late
discovery of the powerful efficacy of the Colchi-
cum, not only in gout and rheumatic affections
of the joints, but also in most inflammatory dis-
200
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
orders. In many cases, however, it has produced
injurious effects ; so that, as a medicine, it ought
not to he administered hut by the most cautious
practitioners; for the Colchicum is undoubtedly
a poisonous root, and its deleterious effects are
to he dreaded until the precise dose is accu¬
rately ascertained.
The poisonous quality of this plant seems to
he known as it were by instinct to all kinds of
cattle. They all shun it, and it is no uncom¬
mon thing to see it standing alone in pastures,
where every other kind of herbage has been
eaten down, without a leaf of this plant 'being
touched.
The Meadow Saffron cannot hut interest the
botanist on account of the singular phenomena
which it exhibits. Its corolla, six-cleft, of a
violet colour, has neither leaves nor stem: a
long tube, white as ivory, which is but a pro¬
longation of the flower, is its sole support. At
the bottom of this tube Nature has placed the
seed, which is not destined to ripen before the
following spring. The seed-vessel which en¬
closes it is buried in the turf during the win¬
ter ; but, on the return of spring, it rises from
MEADOW SAFFRON.
201
the ground, waving in the sunshine, surrounded
by a tuft of broad leaves of the brightest green.
The seeds ripen in May. Thus, this plant,
reversing the accustomed order of the seasons,
mingles its fruits with the flowers of spring, and
its flowers with the fruits of autumn.
Then bright from earth, amid the troubled sky.
Ascends fair Colchicum, with radiant eye.
Warms the cold bosom of the hoary year,
And lights with beauty’s blaze the dusky sphere. -
Darwin.
202
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
SWEET-SCENTED TUSSILAGE.
JUSTICE SHALL BE DONE TO YOU.
Although this plant is a native of Italy, it
remained unknown till the present century,
when M. Villan, a skilful botanist of Grenoble,
was attracted by its delightful fragrance at the
foot of Mount Pilatus, in Switzerland, whence
he brought it to perfume the winter gardens of
■ our continental neighbours. It ca st its first odour
on the British shore in 1806, and it has become
so far naturalized to our climate as to discharge
its fragrance over our walks in winter, as freely
as the mignionette of Egypt does in summer.
Thus, genius, hidden beneath a modest exte¬
rior, is not discerned by the vulgar; but, if it
once meets the eye of an enlightened judge, its
powers are revealed, and it commands the ad¬
miration of those who, with stupid indifference,
perceive in it nothing extraordinary. A young
miller in Holland, having a taste for painting,
exercised it at leisure-hours in portraying the
SWEET-SCENTED TUSSILAGE.
203
scenery amidst which he lived. His master’s
mill and cattle, an admirable verdure, the effects
of the sky, clouds, vapour, light, and shade,
were transferred with exquisite truth to the
canvass by his untutored pencil. No sooner had
he finished one picture than he carried it to the
colourman and exchanged it for materials to
paint another. It happened that the innkeeper
of the place, expecting company at his house,
wished to decorate the apartment destined for
their reception, and bought two of the pictures
for that purpose. An eminent painter, chancing
to stop at the inn, admired the truth of these
landscapes, offered one hundred florins for what
had cost but a crown, and, on paying for them,
promised to take all the works of the young
miller at the same price. Thus was the repu¬
tation of the latter established and his fortune
made. In his prosperity he never forgot his
dear mill, the figure of which is to be found in
all his pictures, which are so many master¬
pieces. Who would imagine that plants, like
men, need a patron in order that their merits
may be duly appreciated!
204
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
SCARLET GERANIUM.
STUPIDITY.
Madame de St a el was always angry when¬
ever any of her acquaintance attempted to in¬
troduce a stupid person into her company. One
day, one of her friends ventured, nevertheless,
to bring to her a young Swiss officer of the most
prepossessing exterior. The lady, pleased with
his appearance, was very lively, and said a thou¬
sand flattering things to the new-comer, who
seemed at first to he struck mute by surprise
and admiration. When, however, he had lis¬
tened to her for above an hour without opening
his lips, she began to suspect the cause of his
silence, and put to him such direct questions
that he could not help answering. Alas, for
the visitor ! his answers were extremely silly!
Madame de Stael, vexed at having thrown away
her time and her wit, turned to her friend and
said : “ Indeed, sir, you are like my gardener,
who thought to do me a pleasure by bringing
SCARLET GERANIUM.
205
me this morning a pot of Geranium: but I can
tell you that I made him take hack the flower;
desiring him not to let me see it any more.”
“ And why so ?” asked the young man, in asto¬
nishment. “ It was, since you wish to know,
because the Geranium is a beautiful scarlet
flower; while you look at it, it pleases the eye;
hut when you press it ever so slightly, it gives
out a disagreeable smell.” With these words,
Madame de Stael rose and went out of the
room, leaving, you may he sure, the cheeks of
the young fool as red as his coat or the flower
to which he had just been likened.
Among the cultivated varieties of the Gera¬
nium there are, however, some which have a
very agreeable scent, and whose flowers exhibit
many diversities of colour. It is also found
in a wild state under the names of Crane’s Bill
and Herb Robert. The following poetic tri¬
bute has been paid to it by the latter appella¬
tion :—
I will not sing the mossy rose,
The jasmine sweet, or lily fair,
The tints the rich carnation shews,
The stock’s sweet scent that fills the air.
T
206
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Full many a bard has sung their praise
In metre smooth, and polished line;
A simple flower and humbler lays
May best befit a pen like mine.
There is a small but lovely flower.
With crimson star and calyx brown.
On pathway side, beneath the bower,
By Nature’s hand profusely strown.
Inquire you when this flowret springs ?—
When Nature wakes to mirth and love.
When all her fragrance summer flings,
When latest autumn chilis the grove.
Like the sweet bird whose name it bears,
’Midst falling leaves and fading flowers.
The passing traveller it cheers,
In shorten’d days and darksome hours.
And, should you ask me where it blows,
I answer, on the mountains bare,
High on the tufted rock it grows,
In lonely glens or meadows fair.
It blooms amidst those flowery dales
Where winding Aire pursues its course;
It smiles upon the craggy fells
That rise around its lofty source.
There are its rosy petals shewn,
’Midst curious forms and mosses rare.
Imbedded in the dark grey stone.
When not another flower is there.
SCARLET GERANIUM.
207
Oh ! emblem of that stedfast mind,
Which, through the varying scenes of life
By genuine piety refined,
Holds on its way ’midst noise and strife.
Though dark the impending tempest lour,
The path of duty it espies,
Calm ’midst the whirlwind and the shower.
Thankful when brighter hours arise.
Oh ! could our darken’d minds discern
In thy sweet form this lesson plain.
Could we it practically learn.
Herb Robert would not bloom in vain.
At Rome, the leaf of the Geranium is em¬
ployed in a favourite game or amusement, which
is called Far il Verde. The time chosen for it
is the beginning of spring, when the trees and
the fields put on their new liveries. A gentle¬
man and lady then agree upon a Verde, and
determine the duration of the game and the
forfeits to he paid. Both parties have now to
take care that they are constantly provided,
both at home and abroad, with a fresh Gera¬
nium leaf. On meeting one another, the ques¬
tion is, Avede il Verde? succeeded by the chal¬
lenge, Fatte vadere il Verde, or Fatte il Verde.
The person so addressed must immediately shew
208
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
the Geranium leaf, and, as a sign that it is
fresh, rub it against a wall, or anything upon
which it can leave a mark. If it fails to make
a green spot, or if the party has left it at home,
he must either pay the specified penalty, or
pledge himself to do so. Thus, too, this en¬
gagement gives each a right to enter without
ceremony the apartment of the other, to rub
his green leaf against the wall, and to put his
playmate to the same test. The game generally
lasts for some weeks, and is more common
among the higher classes than the lower. It
presupposes an intimate acquaintance between
the parties, or is designed to produce one. An
engagement of this kind, therefore, cannot well
be concluded with an unmarried lady without
the consent of her parents, and, as it is often a
prelude to marriage, it is not decorous for a
single lady to offer the challenge. The penalties
are determined by the more or less intimate
footing upon which the parties stand ; in some
cases they are kisses, in others sweetmeats or
sonnets. Sometimes the person who has most
pledges to redeem gives, at the conclusion of
the game, a ball or supper. The progress of
SCARLET GERANIUM.
209
the game furnishes occasion for many a sly
trick ; one of the parties secretly stealing the
other’s leaf, and then demanding proof that he
has it; and sometimes also it is purposely
dropped, when the penalty to he paid is not too
severe.
210
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
CYPRESS.
MOURNING.
The Cypress is the emblem of mourning.
Shakspeare.
According to Ovid, the Cypress derived its
name from Cyparissos, an especial friend of
Apollo’s, who, in grief at having inadvertently
killed a favourite stag of his, prayed the gods
that his mourning might he made perpetual,
and was changed into a Cypress tree, the
branches of which were thenceforward used at
funerals.
Wherever these trees meet our viesv, their
doleful look excites melancholy ideas. Their
tall pyramids, pointing to the sky, moan when
shaken by the wind. The sun’s rays cannot
penetrate through their gloom, and when his
last beams throw their long shadows upon the
ground, you would almost take them for dark
phantoms. Sometimes the Cypress raises its
head among the flowery tenants of our shrub-
CYPRESS.
211
beries, like those representations of death which
the Romans were accustomed to shew to their
guests even amid the transports of boisterous
mirth.
The ancients consecrated the Cypress to the
Fates, the Furies, and Pluto. They placed it
near tombs. The people of the East have re¬
tained the same custom. Their cemeteries are
not scenes of desolation and neglect. Covered
with trees and flowers, they are places of public
resort, which are continually bringing together
the living and the dead. The favourite tree
for burial-grounds is the Cypress, which the
Turks plant not only at the head and foot, but
also upon the graves of deceased friends. Such,
indeed, is their reverence for the dead, that
they frequent the cemeteries more than the
mosques themselves, for the purpose of prayer
and religious meditation. There are many pious
Mussulmans who do not suffer a day to pass
without praying at the grave of their parents,
children, relatives, or friends. You may see at
every hour of the day and even of the night
some person or other either watering or planting
fragrant shrubs and flowers in these abodes of
peace.
2L2 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
The common European evergreen Cypress
is a very long-lived tree, and attains to a great
size. According to Pliny, there were Cypress
trees growing in his time at Rome, which were
more ancient than the city itself. Bartholdy
makes mention of one at Misitra, which was
thirty feet in circumference. The American
species, one of the largest trees in the United
States, is sometimes found of the same girth,
and seventy feet high: its branches extend
almost horizontally.
The wood of the Cypress is remarkable for „
its durability. Many of the chests containing
the Egyptian mummies are of this material,
affording a decisive proof of its almost imperish¬
able nature. We are further assured that the
gates of St. Paul’s Church at Rome, made of
Cypress wood, which had lasted from the time
of Constantine, eleven hundred years, were as
fresh as new when Pope Eugenius IV. ordered
gates of brass to be erected in their stead.
MARVEL OF PERU.
213
MARVEL Of PERU.
TIMIDITY.
This beautiful plant was first brought to
Spain from Peru, and received its name from
the wonderful diversity of colours in the flowers
on the same root,
Changing from the splendid rose
To the pale violet’s dejected hue.
Akenside.
The French call it Jielle de Nuit, because its
flowers, apparently too timid to expand, even
to a European meridian sun, open and give out
their fragrance at night only.
The Marvel of Peru retains its beauty for a
great length of time, being frequently covered
with blossoms from the beginning of July to
the end of October, and the flowers are so
numerous that the plants have a most cheerful
appearance, particularly towards evening, as
they rarely expand in warm weather before the
hour of four in the afternoon, on which account
214
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
it is sometimes called Four-o’clock Flower.
But, when the weather is moderately cool, and
the sun obscured, these shy blossoms remain
open the whole day.
Phillips remarks that, however timid these
flowers may appear in the presence of the god
of day, they stand the blaze of the strongest
artificial light as cheerfully as other belles who
delight to shine at the same hour with this
emblem of timidity.
We cannot resist the temptation of quoting
here an exquisite little poem by Mrs. Hemans,
on “ Night-scented Flowers,” which originally
appeared in the Forget Me Not.
“ Call back your odours, lonely flowers.
From the night-wind call them back;
And fold your leaves till the laughing hours
Come forth in the sunbeam’s track.
“ The lark lies couched in her grassy nest.
And the honey-bee is gone j
And all bright things are away to rest—
Why watch ye here alone ?”
“ Nay, let our shadowy beauty bloom,
When the stars give quiet light;
And let us offer our faint perfume
On the silent shrine of night.
MARVEL OF PERU.
215
“ Call it not wasted the scent we lend
To the breeze when no step is nigh :
Oh! thus for ever the earth should send
Her grateful breath on high !
“ And love us as emblems, night’s dewy flowers,
Of hopes unto sorrows given.
That spring through the gloom of the darkest hours,
Looking alone to Heaven.”
216
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
OAK.
HOSPITALITY.
The ancients believed that the Oak, coeval
with the earth, afforded food and shelter to the
first of men. In the remotest antiquity, it was
the symbol of majesty and strength, and, as
such, sacred to Jupiter, whom it sheltered at
his birth, on Mount Lyceus in Arcadia.
Among the Greeks, the Oak performed an
important part in their religious ceremonies.
The Oaks in the grove of Dodona in Epirus,
near the magnificent temple of Jupiter, gave
forth the oracles which were there promulgated
by the priestesses. On the banks of the Ache-
lous grew those Oaks whose acorns were the
first food of mortals. The Dodonean Jupiter,
the Fates, and Hecate, were crowned with Oak-
wreaths; and the heroes who sailed in the
Argo chose for the mast of that vessel an Oak
from the sacred grove of Dodona, which con¬
tinued to counsel the adventurers by oracular
OAK.
217
intimations. As the oak was an object of such
reverence, it is no wonder that the gods, who
were entertained by Philemon, (see the Linden
Tree,) conceived that they could not confer on
him a more suitable recompence than to trans¬
form him into an Oak-tree, that was to over¬
shadow the temple of Jupiter, into which his
hut was changed. Hence this tree became the
emblem of hospitality.
Among the Romans, various kinds of crowns
were given as rewards of military achievements.
The most honourable of these, a wreath of green
Oak, called the civic crown, was allotted to him
who had saved the life of a Roman citizen in
battle. It was also decreed to Cicero for detect¬
ing Catiline’s conspiracy. Scipio Africanus re¬
fused the civic crown for saving the life of his
father at the battle of Trebia, on the ground
that the act carried with it its own reward. The
possessor of such a crown had a right to wear
it constantly: when he entered an assembly,
all present, senators themselves not excepted,
were obliged to rise; and he was exempt from
every kind of civil burdens and imposts.
Divine honours were paid to the Oak by the
218
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
ancient Germans and Celts, who worshipped
under its form their god Teut. Their priests,
the Druids, offered sacrifices beneath it; their
victims were crowned with Oak-leaves, and it
was requisite that the piles of wood on which
they were burned should he lighted with brands
of Oak.
By modem Britain the Oak, as furnishing
the material of which our fleets are constructed,
has justly been adopted as the emblem of her
naval power—that power of which the first of
our living poets proudly says :—
Britannia needs no bulwarks.
No towers along the steep ;
Her march is on the mountain wave.
Her home is on the deep.
Though our dusky forests are no longer the
haunts of Hamadryads and fairies, still the
aspect of a majestic Oak excites admiration and
awe. When, in youthful vigour, it rears its
proud head and spreads its immense arms, it
looks like a protector, like a king. Shattered
by the thunderbolt, stripped of its foliage, and
motionless, it resembles an old man who has
lived past his time, and who takes no interest
OAK,
219
in the pains and pleasures of the present age.
The stormy winds sometimes strive for the
mastery over this monarch of the forest; at first
he murmurs only, hut soon a dull, deep, melan¬
choly sound issues from his sturdy branches.
You listen and fancy that you hear an indistinct,
mysterious voice speaking from the tree; which
furnishes a clue to the ancient superstitions that
prevailed respecting it.
220
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
AMARAN TH,
IMMORTALITY.
The unfading nature of this flower has caused
it to he made the emblem of immortality. It
is mentioned by Milton as forming the diadem
of the angels:—
With solemn adoration down they cast
Their crowns, inwove with amaranth and gold—
Immortal Amaranth, a flower which once
In Paradise, fast by the tree of life.
Began to bloom, but soon, for man’s offence.
To heaven removed, where first it grew, there grows
And flowers aloft, shading the font of life.
And where the river of bliss, through midst of heaven,
Rolls o’er Elysian flowers her amber stream :
With these that never fade, the spirits elect
Bind their resplendent locks in wreath’d with beams.
Tlie Amaranth has also been placed among
funereal flowers. Homer describes the Thes¬
salians as wearing crowns of Amaranth at the
funeral of Achilles.
AMARANTH.
221
Sacl Amaranthus, in whose purple gore
Meseems I see Amintas’ wretched fate,
To whom sweet poets’ verse hath given endless date.
Spenser.
Milton, too, in his Lycidas, classes it among
the flowers “ that sad embroidery wear—
Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed,
And daffodillies fill their cups with tears,
To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
In modern times, the Amaranth has given its
name to an order instituted by Queen Christina
of Sweden, in the year 1633, at an entertain¬
ment given in honour of Don Antonio Pimen¬
tel, the Spanish ambassador. On this occasion
she appeared in a dress covered with diamonds,
attended by a suite of sixteen nobles of her
court and the same number of ladies. At the
conclusion of the ball, she stripped herself
of the diamonds, and distributed them among
the company, at the same time presenting the
new order of knighthood, consisting of a rib¬
bon and medal, with an Amaranth in enamel,
encircled with the motto: “ Uolce nella mc-
moria.”
222
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
In the Floral games at Toulouse, the prin¬
cipal prize was a golden Amaranth for the best
lyric composition.
The species of Amaranth called Tricolor, a
native of the East Indies, is admired on account
of the variegated colours of its leaves, resem¬
bling, as Gerard tells us, the splendid feathers
of a parrot, with its stripes of red, yellow, white,
green, &c. The Amaranthus hypochondriacus,
one of the American species, is better known
by the name of Prince’s Feather. The leaves
of most of the species of this plant are used in
hot countries as culinary vegetables: but they
are not equal to spinach, which they somewhat
resemble.
PARSLEY.
223
PARSLEY.
FESTIVITY.
Parsley was held in high repute by the
Greeks. At banquets they hound their brows
with its slight sprigs, and also adorned with
them the graves of their deceased relatives. In
the Isthmian games at Rome the victors were
crowned with Parsley. It was formerly imagined
that this plant came originally from Sardinia,
because that island is represented on ancient
medals as a female, beside whom is a vase con¬
taining a bunch of Parsley ; but it is in fact a
native of all the damp and shady spots in Greece
and even of the southern provinces of France.
From the beautiful green of this plant, it
forms an elegant decoration to the dishes which
are garnished with it. It adds a luxury to the
poor man’s soup-kettle, and contributes to the
elegance of the most splendid dinners. A
branch of laurel and a Parsley crown are the
224 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
attributes which would now-a-days suit the god
of banquets. These plants have been employed
for nobler purposes ; but, in the age of gas¬
tronomy, it will not do to insist too strongly on
what was done in the heroic ages.
■WINTER.
225
WINTER.
And welcome art thou, melancholy time,
That now surround’st my dwelling—with the sound
Of winds that rush in darkness—the sublime
Roar of drear woods.
W. Howitt.
No mark of vegetable life is seen,
No bird to bird repeats his tuneful call.
Save the dark leaves of some rude evergreen,
Save the lone redbreast on the moss-grown wall.
Scott.
A wreath for merry Christmas quickly twine,
A wreath for the bright red sparkling wine ;
Though roses are dead.
And their bloom is fled.
Yet for Christmas a bonnie, bonnie wreath we’ll twine.
Away to the wood where the bright holly grows,
And its red berries blush amid winter snows :
Away to the ruin where the green ivy clings
And around the dark fane its verdure flings;
Hey for the ivy and holly so bright,
They are the garlands for Christmas night 1
Louisa Anne Twajilev.
22 G
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
DEAD LEAVES.
SADNESS—MELANCHOLY.
Winter comes on. The trees, after being
stripped of their fruit, have now lost their
leaves. The sun, as he recedes from us, throws
dun or melancholy tints over the foliage. The
poplar is covered with a pale gold colour, while
the acacia rolls up its light folioles, which the
sun’s rays will no more expand: the birch
droops its long hair, already deprived of orna¬
ments ; and the fir, which is destined to retain
its green pyramid, waves it proudly in the air.
The oak stands immoveable: he defies the
utmost efforts of the wind, which cannot strip
his stately head of its honours : and it is only to
Spring that the monarch of the woods will yield
his leaves reddened by Winter.
All these trees might be supposed to be
moved by different passions: one bows pro¬
foundly, as if to pay homage to its neighbour,
whom the tempest cannot bend; another seems
BEAD LEAVES.
227
to be striving to embrace its companion, the
supporter of its weakness, and, while their
branches are commingled, a third dashes about
in every direction, as if it were surrounded by
enemies. Respect, friendship, hate, anger, seem
to be alternately communicated by one to an¬
other. Thus shaken by all the winds, and as
if agitated by all the passions, they utter long
moans, resembling the confused murmurs of an
alarmed people. There is no predominant voice:
they are low, deep, monotonous sounds, which
throw the mind into a vague reverie. Showers
of dead leaves frequently fall upon the ground,
deprived of its verdure, and cover the earth
with a moving garment. The eye cannot help
watching how the winds pursue, scatter, whirl,
and drive hither and thither, these sad remains
of a spring that will never return.
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
228
ALOE.
GRIEF.
The Aloe is attached to the soil by very
feeble roots; it delights to grow in the wilder¬
ness ; its taste is extremely hitter. Thus grief
detaches us from the earth, separates us from
the world, and fills our hearts with bitterness.
These plants live almost entirely on air, and
assume singular and grotesque shapes. Le
Vaillant found several species in great pro¬
fusion in the deserts of the Namaquas, in South
Africa. Some had leaves six feet long; they
are thick, and armed with long spines; from
the centre of these leaves shoots up a slender
stem, as tall as a tree, and covered with flowers.
Others are marbled, and look like snakes creep¬
ing upon the ground. Brydone saw the ancient
city of Syracuse overgrown with large Aloes in
blossom ; their elegant stems gave to the pro¬
montory on which it stands the appearance of
an enchanted wood. These magnificent and
ALOE.
229
monstrous plants have been given to barbarous
Africa: they grow upon rocks, in dry sand,
amidst a burning atmosphere, breathed by lions
and tigers. Let us be thankful to bounteous
Nature, who in our mild climate has every
where raised bowers of verdure over our heads,
and spread carpets of daisies, primroses, and
violets under our feet!
x
230
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
IVY.
FRIENDSHIP.
Friendship has sometimes chosen for its
device a fallen tree, firmly embraced by the ver¬
dant arms of the Ivy, with this motto : “ No¬
thing can part us.” In Greece the altar of
Hymen was encircled with Ivy, and a branch of
it was presented to the new-married couple, as
a symbol of the indissoluble knot. It was sacred
to Bacchus, who is represented crowned with
Ivy-leaves, as well as those of the vine. It formed
the crown of the Greek and Roman poets ; and,
in modern times, woman’s love, constancy, and
dependence, have been expressed by it.
Ingratitude has sometimes been represented
by the Ivy strangling its supporting benefactor.
This calumny has been repelled by the author
of the “ Studies of Nature,” who regards it as
the model of pure friendship. “ Nothing,”
says he, “ can separate it from the tree which
it has once embraced: it clothes it with its own
IVY.
231
leaves in that inclement season when its dark
houghs are covered with hoar-frost. The faithful
companion of its destiny, it falls when the tree
is cut down: death itself does not relax its
grasp, and it continues to adorn with its verdure
the dry trunk which once supported it.”
These ideas, equally refined and pathetic,
have the additional merit of truth. The Ivy is
attached to the earth by its own roots, and de¬
rives no nourishment from the substances to
which it clings. The protector of ruins, it
adorns the dilapidated walls which it holds to¬
gether : it will not accept every kind of support,
but its attachments end only with its life.
232
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
MISTLETOE.
I SURMOUNT ALL DIFFICULTIES.
The Mistletoe is a creeping plant, which
grows on the tops of the tallest trees. The
proud oak is its slave, and nourishes it with his
own substance. The Druids paid a kind of
adoration to it, as the emblem of a weakness
that was superior to strength : they regarded
the tyrant of the oak as equally formidable to
men and gods. This opinion was founded on
the following fable of their mythology.
One day, Balder told his mother Friga that
he dreamt he was dying. Friga charmed fire,
metals, diseases, water, and animals, that they
might not have power to harm her son ; and
her spells were so powerful that nothing could
resist them. Balder, therefore, mingled fear¬
lessly in the battles of the gods. Loke, his
enemy, wished to ascertain how it was that he
always escaped unhurt. Assuming the form of
MISTLETOE.
233
an old woman, he repaired to Friga. “ In
battle,” said he to her, “arrows, javelins, and
rocks, fall upon your son Balder, without doing
him any harm.”—“ I know it,” said Friga:
“ all those things have sworn not to hurt him ;
there is nothing in nature from which I have
not obtained the same promise, except a plant
which seemed too weak to do him any injury:
it grows upon the bark of the oak, and it is
called Mistletoe.” Thus spake Friga. Loke
instantly went in quest of the plant, and, re¬
turning to the assembled gods, who were fighting
with the invulnerable Balder, for their sports
are battles, he went up to the blind Heder.
“ Why,” said he, “ dost not thou launch thy
darts against Balder ?”—“ Alas!” replied He¬
der, “ I am blind, and I have no weapons.”
Loke gave him a dart made of Mistletoe, saying,
“ Balder is right before thee.” The blind He¬
der threw the dart, which pierced Balder, who
fell lifeless. Thus the invulnerable son of a
goddess was killed by a dart made of Mistletoe,
thrown by a blind man. Such is the origin of
the respect paid by the Gauls to this parasite
shrub.
234
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
It is scarcely necessary to remind the reader
of the important part still performed hy the
Mistletoe in our Christmas gambols.
MOSS.
235
MOSS.
MATERNAL LOVE.
Jean Jaques Rousseau, so long tormented
by his own passions, and persecuted by those
of other persons, soothed the latter years of his
life by the study of nature : the Mosses in par¬
ticular engaged his attention. It is these, he
would frequently say, that give a look of youth
and freshness to our fields; they embellish
nature at the moment when the flowers have
left us, and when their withered stems are
mingled with the mould of our plains. In fact,
it is in winter that the Mosses offer to the eye
of the botanist their carpet of emerald green,
their secret nuptials, and the charming myste¬
ries of the urns and amphorae which enclose
their posterity.
Like those friends whom neither adversity
nor ingratitude can alienate, the Mosses, ba¬
nished from cultivated lands, take possession of
waste and sterile spots, which they cover with
their own substance, and gradually change into
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
236
a fertile soil: they spread themselves over
marshes, and soon transform them into smiling
plains. In winter, when no other plants vege¬
tate, they take up the hydrogen and the carbon
which vitiate the air we breathe, and give it
back to us charged with the oxygen which
purifies it. In summer, they form, beneath
overarching trees, carpets on which the shep¬
herd, the lover, and the poet, alike delight to
rest. The little birds line with it the nests
which they prepare for their infant families,
and the squirrel constructs with it his circular
dwelling. Nay, it may be asserted that but
for the Mosses, part of our globe would be un¬
inhabitable.
At the extremity of the earth, the Lapland¬
ers cover with Moss the subterraneous abodes,
where, collected in families, they defy the
longest and severest winters. Their numerous
herds of reindeer have no other food, yet they
supply their owners with delicious milk, nutri¬
tious flesh, and warm clothing ; thus combining
for the poor Laplander all the advantages that
we derive from the cow, the horse, and the
sheep.
aioss.
237
Thus Nature dispenses her bounty in the
most rigorous climates: she enwraps in Moss
all that vegetates and all that breathes, as in a
vegetable fleece, capable of preserving her less
gifted children from the effects of the intense
cold, and keeping them warm upon her maternal
bosom.
238
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
I. A IT IIU S T I N U S.
I DIE IF NEGLECTED.
This pretty plant, which is the gift of Spain,
is the ornament of our shrubberies in winter,
appearing in full leaf and flower at a time when
other plants are stripped of theirs. Neither
the scorching breath of summer nor the cold
blast of winter can despoil it of its charms : at
the same time, assiduous care is necessary to
preserve it. The emblem of constant and deli¬
cate friendship, it always seeks to please, but
dies if neglected.
CORNEL CHERRY-TREE.
239
CORNEL CHERRY-TREE.
DURABILITY.
The Cornel Cherry-tree grows no higher
than eighteen or twenty feet. It is of very
slow growth, hut lives for ages. It blossoms in
spring, hut its bright scarlet berries are not
ripe till winter.
The Greeks consecrated this tree to Apollo,
no doubt because that god presided over the
productions of the mind, which require much
time and reflection—a charming emblem, in¬
timating to those who were desirous to culti¬
vate letters, eloquence, and poetry, that, before
they can earn the laurel crown, they must long
wear that of patience and meditation.
After Romulus had marked out the bounds
of his rising city, he threw his javelin on the
Mount Palatine. The -weapon, made of the
wood of the Cornel Cherry-tree, stuck fast in
the ground, took root, grew, threw out leaves
240
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
and branches, and became a tree. This pro¬
digy was considered as the happy presage of
the power and duration of the infant empire.
LAUREL.
241
LAUREL.
GLORY.
The Greeks and the Romans consecrated
Laurel crowns to every species of Glory. "W itli
these they adorned the brows of warriors and
poets, of orators and philosophers, of vestals
and emperors. This beautiful shrub grows
abundantly at Delphi, on the hanks of the
river Peneus. There its aromatic and evergreen
branches shoot up to the height of the loftiest
trees ; and it is alleged that by means of some
secret virtue they avert lightning from the spots
which they adorn.
According to ancient fable, the fair Daphne
was the daughter of the river Peneus. Apollo
fell in love with her, hut she, preferring virtue
to the love of the most eloquent of the gods,
fled in order to avoid the seducing magic of his
words. Apollo pursued, and was on the point
of overtaking her, when the nymph invoked
her father, and was changed into a Laurel.
The god, finding that it was an insensible tree
Y
242
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
that he held clasped in his arms, kissed its
bright leaves. “ Since thou canst not he my
spouse,” said he, “ thou shalt at least he my
tree. Thou shalt ever adorn my brow, my lyre,
and my quiver; and, as golden locks always
cluster around my youthful head, so shalt thou
always retain thy bright, beautiful foliage.”
Thenceforward the Laurel was sacred to Apollo.
HOLLY.
243
HOLLY.
FORESIGHT.
The providence of Nature is most admirably
displayed in this beautiful evergreen tree, some¬
times rising to the height of twenty or thirty
feet, with shining prickly leaves and white flow¬
ers, which grow in clusters round the branches,
and are succeeded by berries of a bright scarlet
colour, containing four very hard seeds. The
leaves form a grateful food to many animals:
but Nature has armed them for self-defence
against these depredators with sharp prickles:
and it is curious to observe that the thorny
leaves grow only on the lower parts of the tree
where they are most likely to be destroyed;
and that those above, out of the reach of cattle,
invest themselves with smooth leaves, as if
conscious that there they are safe.
The Holly is an ornament to our woods,
stripped bare by winter: its berries serve for
food to the little birds that never leave us, and
244 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
its foliage affords them an hospitable shelter
during the cold season. Thus Nature, by a
kind forethought, has taken care to preserve the
verdure of this handsome tree all the year
round, and to arm it with thorns, that it may
furnish both food and protection to the innocent
creatures which resort to it for refuge. It is a
friend, which her all-powerful hand raises up
for them against the time when all other reli¬
ance fails. As, however, this is not a world of
unmixed good, it may be added that, from the
bark of the common Holly, when fermented
and washed from the woody fibres, is made the
bird-lime that is used for catching small birds.
The Holly, with its scarlet berries, is the most
beautiful of the evergreens that have been used
for ages to adorn churches and houses at the
joyful season of Christmas :
Christmas, the joyous period of the year !
Now with bright Holly ah the temples strow.
With laurel green, and sacred mistletoe.
Gay.
With Holly and ivy,
So green and so gay,
We deck up our houses
As fresh as the day j
HOLLY.
245
With bays and rosemary.
And laurel complete.
And every one now
Is a king in conceit.
Poor Robin’s Almanac, 10Q5.
246
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
YEW.
SORROW.
There is in vegetables something that in¬
vites, attracts, or repels. The Yew is among
all nations the emblem of sorrow. Its barkless
trunk, its dark-green foliage, with which its
fruit, looking like drops of blood, stands in
harsh contrast—in short, everything about it
warns the passenger to keep aloof from its dan¬
gerous shade. Persons who sleep under a
Yew-tree are liable to be seized with dizziness,
heaviness, and violent head-ache. Its sprays
poison asses and horses which eat them: its
juice is pernicious to man; but the fruit is
harmless, for children eat it without experi¬
encing any ill effects. It exhausts the soil
which supports it, and destroys all other plants
that spring up beneath it.
By our ancestors, the Yew was planted in
burial-grounds, where trees of this kind, of
great age and size, may occasionally be seen to
YEW.
247
tliis day. They were not destined merely to
overshadow the graves of the dead, hut, before
the invention of fire-arms, their wood was chiefly
employed for making hows, cross-bows, and
arrows. The ancient Greeks used it for the
same purposes.
For a long time it served to adorn our gar¬
dens, where it formed hedges clipped into the
shape of massive walls or tortured into fantastic
figures; hut, thanks to the improved taste in
landscape-gardening introduced during the last
century, that barbarous perversion of nature is
quite exploded in this country, though it may
yet be met with in the formal gardens of Hol¬
land. There, it is not uncommon to see the
four corners of a perfect square ornamented
with Yews, clipped into the form of vases, py¬
ramids, or prodigious balls.
The Greeks, who had more just ideas of the
real beauties of Nature, impressed, like our¬
selves, with the melancholy aspect of this tree,
invented the fable of the unhappy Smilax, who,
seeing that her love was rejected by the young
Crocus, was transformed into a Yew. In their
beautiful country, every plant, every tree, spoke
248
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
to men of heroes, of gods, and of love. Let us
listen to their voices : to us, too, they will talk
of Providence, who, after bestowing a profusion
of them for the supply of our wants, reserves
some for our pleasures, or as monitors for our
guidance. Some she gives to be the playthings
of our childhood, to form wreaths for us in youth,
to afford us delicious fruits and refreshing shade
in every period of life. Are we melancholy, the
willow invites us by soft murmurs; are we dis¬
posed to love, the myrtle offers us its flowers ;
are we rich, the horse-chesnut furnishes its
superb umbrage; are we sorrowful, the Yew-
seems to say to us : “ Be of good cheer ; grief
desolates the heart, as I desolate the soil that
supports me : it is as dangerous to man as my
shade is to the weary passenger!”
HAZEL.
249
HAZEL.
PEACE, RECONCILIATION.
There was a time when men were not united
by any tie. Deaf to the voice of Nature, the
mother would snatch from her famished son the
wild fruit with which he was striving to appease
the craving of hunger. If calamity reconciled
them for a moment, all at once the sight of an
oak loaded with acorns, or a beech-tree covered
with mast, made them as hitter enemies as
ever. The earth was then a scene of misery.
There was neither law, religion, nor language.
Man knew not his high prerogatives; his rea¬
son was not yet awakened; and frequently he
proved himself more cruel than the ferocious
beasts, whose fearful howlings he imitated.
The gods at length took pity on men. Apollo
and Mercury made presents to each other, and
descended to the earth. The god of harmony
received from the son of Maia the shell of a
tortoise, out of which he had constructed a lyre,
250
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
and gave him in exchange a Hazel stick, which
had the power of imparting a love of virtue and
of reconciling hearts divided by envy and hate.
Thus equipped, the two sons of Jupiter sought
the abodes of mortals. Apollo first sang the
eternal wisdom which created the universe : he
told how the elements were produced; how love
unites all the parts of nature in one general
bond; and, lastly, how men ought to appease
by prayer the wrath of the gods. At his voice
animosities were suspended, and revenge was
banished from every heart. Mercury then
touched men with the rod which Apollo had
given to him. He loosed their tongues, and
taught them to express their thoughts in words.
He then explained to them that union consti¬
tutes strength, and that, without mutually
assisting each other, they could not render the
earth productive. Awakened by his exhort¬
ations, filial piety and love of country sprang
forth to unite mankind, and he made commerce
the general bond of the world. His last thought
was the most sublime, for it was devoted to the
gods: he taught men to resemble them in uni¬
versal love and beneficence.
HAZEL.
251
Adorned with two light wings, and entwined
with serpents, the Hazel rod given to the god
of eloquence by the god of harmony is still, by
the name of caduceus, the emblem of peace,
commerce, and reconciliation.
252
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
JUNIPER.
PROTECTION.
The ancients consecrated this shrub to the
Furies. The smoke of its green roots was the
incense which they offered in preference to the
infernal gods; and they burned its berries during
funerals to ban malign influences. In some
parts of the Continent, the simple -villager still
believes that the perfume of Juniper berries
purifies the air, and drives evil spirits from his
Humble cot.
The Juniper, which sometimes clothes itself
m a golden yellow livery, rarely thrives under
cultivation; when left at liberty, it loves to
grow on the margin of woods. Weak and
timorous animals frequently seek refuge under
its long branches, which droop to the ground.
The hare, when hard pressed, repairs to it, and
squats with confidence beneath its sprays, the
strong scent of which frequently sets the dogs
at fault. Often, too, the thrush entrusts to it
JUNIPER.
253
her young brood, and feeds upon its fruit: -while
the entomologist comes to study, around its
branches bristling with spikes, a thousand re¬
splendent insects, which have no other defence,
and seem conscious that this shrub is destined
to protect their weakness.
254
ILLUSTRATION OF FLOWER-WRITING.
The annexed plate furnishes an example of
the facility with which the principles laid down
in the preceding pages may he reduced to prac¬
tice. The subject is taken from the following
song, by a French poet, the Chevalier Parny :
Aimer est un plaisir charmant,
C’est un bonheur qui nous enivre,
Et qui produit l’enchantement.
Avoir aim<5, c’est ne plus vivre;
Hdlas ! c’est avoir achete
Cette accablante v£ritd,
Que les sermens sont un mensonge,
Que l’amour trompe t6t ou tard,
Que l’innocence n’est qu’un art,
Et que le bonheur n’est qu’un songe.
It may he thus rendered :
“ To love is a pleasure, a happiness, which
intoxicates: to love no longer, is to live no
longer ; it is to have bought this sad truth, that
innocence is falsehood, that love is an art, and
that happiness is a dream.”
z ee/cor e rrt /eJ
so-it
a /aMe/uwa
/ 'ots-ts a*'/?/ a/cY tzru/ /utyyit /t eJ-J er tiieti./n
HiblisheJ. ty Saunders S : fltiey. Conduit Street.
s
255
DICTIONARY
OF
THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS,
WITH THE
ORIGIN OF THEIR SIGNIFICATIONS.
Absence, Wormwood. Absence, according to
La Fontaine, is the worst of evils: Wormwood
is the bitterest of plants. Its name, derived
from the Greek, signifies, without sweetness.
Accommodating Disposition, Valerian. Page
124 .
Activity, Thyme. Page 91.
Affection, Generous and Devoted, Honey¬
suckle. Page 99.
After-Thought, China Aster. Page 181. The
Aster begins to blow when other flowers are
256
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
scarce. It is like an after-thought of Flora’s,
who smiles at leaving us.
Agitation, Shaking Sainfoin. It has been re¬
marked that the terminating leaflet of this
plant is motionless, while the two others,
which are much smaller, shake incessantly
during the day. This motion is one of the
most singular phenomena of botany. It was
first observed in Bengal by Lady Monson.
Ambition, Hollyhock. Page 194.
Amiableness, Jasmine. Page 126.
Ardour, Broom. It is said that the spadix of
the plants of this family, of which there are
more than fifty species, acquires so strong a
heat as to he painful to the hand when touched.
This surprising fact is attested by several
naturalists, and among others by Bory de
Saint Vincent, and Hubert.
Artifice, Clematis. Beggars, in order to ex¬
cite pity, make false ulcers on their flesh by
means of the Clematis. This infamous arti¬
fice often produces in the end a real sore.
Arts, The, Acanthus. Page 94.
Attachment, Devoted, Peruvian Heliotrope.
Page 186.
DICTIONARY.
257
Beauty, Capricious, Musk Rose. The small
flowers of the Musk Rose would he insignifi¬
cant if they did not grow in clusters of from
twenty to one hundred and more. Their
delicate musky scent is very agreeable. This
plant, however, is extremely capricious : all
at once it will languish in situations which
at first appeared the most favourable for it:
and one year it will he loaded with flowers,
while the next perhaps it will have none at
all.
__Ever New. The Monthly Rose, which
flowers all the year.
_Fleeting, Withered Rose. When we
contemplate a withered Rose, and reflect that
only a few hours since it was revelling in all
the pride of beauty, we cannot but regard it
as an appropriate emblem of the fleeting
nature of personal charms; for, brilliant as
they may be, how quickly do they fade! Still,
the withered rose, which, though in decay,
retains its fragrance, may teach us that, even
when beauty has fled, we may yet, like it,
have it in our power to please.
-Lasting, Stock. Page 143.
z 2
258
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Beloved Daughter, Cinquefoil. In wet wea¬
ther the leaves of this plant contract and
bend over the flower, forming, as it were, a
little tent to cover it—an apt emblem of an
affectionate mother engaged in protecting a
beloved child.
Beneficence, Mallow. Page 138. The Potatoe,
the peculiar vegetable of the poor, is also re¬
garded as an emblem of beneficence. This
root, lasting but for a year, escapes the mo-
nopoly of trade. Modest as true charity, the
potatoe hides its treasures : it bestows them
on the rich, and feeds the poor with them.
America presented us with this useful vege¬
table, which has for ever banished from Eu¬
rope one of the direst calamities—famine.
Beware of Excess, Saffron. A weak infusion
of Saffron cheers the spirits, but those who
drink too much of this liquor go mad. It is
the same with its odour: if you smell to it
slightly, it refreshes; if to excess, it kills.
Blackness, Ebony-tree. Pluto, the sovereign
of the infernal regions, was seated on a throne
of Ebony. It is said of a wicked man—he
has a heart as black as Ebony. This saying
DICTIONARY.
259
no doubt originated in this circumstance,
that, while the alburnum of the Ebony-tree is
white, its foliage soft and silvery, and its
flowers brilliant and beautiful, the heart alone
is really black.
Bluntness, Borage, The leaves of Borage are
prickly, hairy, and wrinkled ; but the whole
of the plant is wholesome. Its good qualities
make us endure and even forget its rough ap¬
pearance, which reminds us that bluntness is
frequently accompanied by a good heart.
Boldness, Larch. This tree grows upon the
loftiest mountains, where it attains a pro¬
digious height. In the North, it is often
covered with a species of lichen, which en¬
velopes it as with a thick fur. The rustics
amuse themselves with setting fire to this
singular clothing: it catches freely, and a
light flame suddenly shoots up to the sky,
sparkling and going out in a moment. You
would imagine that these beautiful trees had
been placed in those situations for the express
purpose of exhibiting to the desert the asto¬
nishing spectacle of the most magnificent
fireworks.
2G0
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Calm Repose, Buck-bean. Page 93.
Calumny, Madder. Madder stains red. When
sheep have browsed this plant, their teeth
look as if they were stained by the blood of
some victim. Thus wickedness frequently
takes advantage of deceitful appearances to
calumniate innocence.
Candour, White Violet. Candour precedes
Modesty: it is a Violet still clothed in the
colour of Innocence.
Chastity, Sensitive Plant. Page 170.
•-, Orange-flower. It is customary in
some countries for brides to wear a wreath
of Orange flowers; and it is still usual in the
neighbourhood of Paris to deny this orna¬
ment on their wedding-day to females who
have not preserved their chastity.
Child-Birth, Dittany. When Juno presided
at the birth of children, by the name of Lu-
cina, she wore a crown of Dittany. The pleas¬
ing smell of this shrub, and the medicinal
properties for which it was so famous among
the ancients, cause it to be still held in esteem.
It is a native of the island of Crete
Childhood, Primrose. Page 31.
DICTIONARY.
261
Confidence, Liverwort, or Hepatica. When
the gardeners see the pretty flowers of the
Hepatica, they say : “ The earth is in lore ;
we may sow with confidence.”
Consolation, Poppy. Page 161.
--, Wild Poppy. The Wild Poppy
contains in its scarlet bosom an invaluable
soother of pain and sorrow. The ancients,
who regarded Sleep as the healer of all woes,
the great comforter of the world, gave him
for his only ornament a wreath of Poppies.
Constancy, Canterbury Bell. The stems of this
plant frequently shoot up to the height of
three or four feet, and are covered from bottom
to top with large beautiful flowers, that open
in July, and retain all their splendour till
October. The colour of these blue bell-shaped
flowers is that of constancy.
Coquetry, Desire to Please, Mezereon. Page
30.
-, Yellow Day Lily. Page 169.
Courage, Black Poplar. This tree was conse¬
crated to Hercules.
Cruelty, Nettle. The sting of the Nettle
causes a pain like that from a burn. On ex-
262 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
amining the leaves of the Nettle with a
microscope, you are surprised to see them
covered with stiff, articulated, sharp-pointed
bristles, which are so many conductors to a
sharp burning liquid, enclosed in a bladder
at the bottom of each. These hairs and blad¬
ders are exactly like the stings of bees. In
the insect, as in the plant, it is the sharp
humour which causes the pain.
Cure, Bulm of Gilead. This exquisite balm, so
justly esteemed by the ancients, seems to
have been provided by nature to soothe pain:
thus we often use the word balm in a moral
and figurative sense, to express anything
that allays and mitigates sorrow. Beneficent
virtue and affectionate friendship are true
balms, which heal the wounds of the heart, a
thousand times more painful than any phy¬
sical evils.
Curiosity, Sycamore. This tree is mentioned
but once historically, and that is in the Bible.
Zaccheus the publican mingled with the crowd
on the day of our Saviour’s triumphal entry
into Jerusalem, and, in order to obtain a
better view of the Messiah, he climbed up
DICTIONARY.
2G3
into a Sycamore-tree, which has thence been
made the emblem of curiosity.
Dangerous Pleasures, Tuberose. Page 184.
Deceitful Charms, Thorn Apple. Page 153.
Delicacy, Corn - bottle . The beautiful blue of
this flow r er, which is like that of a cloudless
sky, is the emblem of a tender and delicate
affection, nourished by hope.
Desire, Jonquil. The Jonquil, which came to
us from Constantinople, is with the Turks
the emblem of desire.
Despair, Marigold and Cypress. Cypress is the
emblem of death; the Marigold of sorrow.
The combination of the two expresses despair.
Dignity, Clove - tree . The aromatic Clove-tree
is a native of the Molucca islands. The peo¬
ple of those islands wear its flowers, which
we call cloves, as a mark of distinction.
Discretion, Maiden Hair. Page 197.
Disdain, Yellow Pink. As haughty people are
in general unaccommodating and unamiable,
so of all the pink tribe the yellow is the least
beautiful, the least fragrant, and yet requires
the most care.
2G4 LANGUAGE OF FLOATERS.
Docility, Rush. It is a proverbial saying, as
supple as a Rush.
Do Me Justice, Cliesnut-tree. Chesnuts are
enclosed, tivo, three, or four, together, in one
green husk, armed Avith numerous spikes.
Those Avho are not acquainted Avith the tree
disregard the fruit on account of its rough
appearance.
Durability, Cornel Cherry-tree. Page 239.
Elegance, Rose Acacia. The art of the toilet
cannot produce anything fresher or more
elegant than the attire of this pretty shruh.
Its drooping branches, its gay green, its beau¬
tiful bunches of pink floivers, resembling bovrs
of ribands, all give it the appearance of a
fashionable female in her hall dress.
Elevation, Fir-tree. The Fir delights in cold
regions, and groivs there to a prodigious
height.
Eloquence, Lotas. The Egyptians consecrated
the floAver of the Lotus to the Sun, the god
of eloquence. This floAver closes and sinks
into the Avater at sunset, rising from it and
opening again as soon as the brilliant lumi-
DICTIONARY.
265
nary re-appears above the horizon. It con¬
stitutes one of the ornaments of the head of
Osiris. The Indian gods are frequently re¬
presented floating on the water upon a Lotus
flower: perhaps an emblem of the earth
issuing from the bosom of the deep.
Enchantment, Vervain. Page 135.
Envy, Bramble. The Bramble, like envy, creeps
and strives to stifle every thing that comes
near it.
Error, Bee Orchis. The flowers of this plant so
nearly resemble a small humble bee in shape
and colour that they might easily be mistaken
for that insect.
Esteem, Sage. The common garden Sage has
ever been held in great esteem by all domestic
practitioners for its medicinal virtues. By
the ancients it was supposed to possess the
virtue of prolonging life : hence a line in one
of their poets, which signifies : “ How can a
man die in whose garden there grows Sage ?”
Faith, Passion Flower. In the Passion Flower
you find a representation of the crown of
thorns, the scourge, the cross, the sponge,
A A
2G6
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
the nails, and the five wounds of Christ;
whence its name.
Falsehood, Bugloss. Page 74.
•-, Manchineel-tree. The fruit of the
Manchineel-tree resembles an apple. This de¬
ceitful appearance, together with an agreeable
smell, invites you to eat it: but its soft and
spongy substance contains a milky and per¬
fidious juice, which at first appears insipid,
but soon becomes so caustic as to burn at
once the lips, the palate, and the tongue. All
travellers agree in stating that the best re¬
medy for so violent a poison is sea-water.
Luckily it is always at hand, as the tree
grows invariably on the sea-shore.
False Riches, Sunflower. Page 189.
Festivity, Parsley. Page 223.
Fidelity, Speedwell, or Veronica, formed from
vera-icon, a compound of Latin and Greek,
signifying true image. This derivation, illi¬
terate and barbarous as it is, has the sanction
of the superstitious legend of St. Veronica,
whose handkerchief is recorded to have re¬
ceived the impression of our Saviour’s face,
as he used it in bearing his cross to the place
of crucifixion.
DICTIONARY.
267
Fidelity in Misfortune, Wallflower. Page
51.
Finesse, Sweet-william. This plant, with its
large brilliant bunches of blossoms, displays
in all its parts exquisite beauty and delicacy.
Fire, Fraxinella. When the day has been hot
and dry, the Fraxinella emits an inflammable
gas, which, being condensed by the cool
evening air, forms around it an atmosphere
that takes fire at the approach of a light,
without injuring the plant.
Flame, Flawer-de-Luce. The Flower-de-Luce,
or Iris Germanica, is a plant which the pea¬
sants of Germany are fond of cultivating on
the roofs of their cottages. When the wind
waves its beautiful flowers, and the sun gilds
their petals, tinged with gold, purple, and
azure, it looks as if light flames were playing
on the top of those rustic dwellings.
Flattery, Venus’s Looking-glass. As soon as
the sun sheds his golden rays upon our corn¬
fields, we see the bright purple flowers of a
pretty variety of campanula scattered over
them : hut, should clouds intercept his beams,
the corollas of these flowers immediately close,
268
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
as at the approach of night. It is related that
Venus one day dropped one of her mirrors.
A shepherd picked it up ; hut, no sooner had
he cast his eyes on this glass, which possessed
the property of embellishing whatever it re¬
flected, than he forgot his mistress, and did
nothing hut admire himself. Love, fearful
of the consequences of such a silly error,
broke the mirror, and changed its fragments
into this pretty plant, which has ever since
retained the name of Venus’s Looking-glass.
Folly, Columbine. This graceful flower has
been made the emblem of folly, but whether
on account of the party-colour which it fre¬
quently takes in the garden, or in allusion
to the shape of the nectary, which turns over,
like the caps of the old jesters, or those
which painters give to Folly, we are left to
divine.
Foresight, Holly. Page 243.
Forgetfulness, Moonwort. This plant has not
received its name from its seed, as it has been
generally supposed, but from the partition
which divides its broad, flat pods, and is round
like the moon. Ren-
7 O
nionette. Page 150.
F outjt, White Lilac. From the purity of colour
and the short duration of its beautiful clus¬
ters of blossom, White Lilac is the emblem
of youth, of that fleeting and inestimable
blessing, which all the treasures of the world
cannot redeem.
305
dictionary of flowers,
WITH
THEIK EMBLEMATIC SIGNIFICATIONS.
Acacia,
--Rose,
Acanthus,
Achillea millefolia,
Adonis, Flos,
Agrimony,
Almond-tree,
Aloe,
Amaranth,
Amaryllis,
Anemone,
.---Field,
Angelica,
Angrec,
Friendship.
Elegance.
The Arts.
War.
Painful Recollections.
Thankfulness.
Indiscretion.
Grief.
Immortality.
Pride.
Forsaken.
Sickness.
Inspiration.
Royalty,
a I) 2
306
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Apple blossom,
Ash-tree,
Asphodel,
Aster, China,
Preference.
Grandeur.
My Regrets follow you
to the Grave.
Variety.
After-thought.
Balm of Gilead,
-Gentle,
Balsam,
Barberry,
Basil,
Beech,
Bilberry,
Bladder-nut,
Borage,
Box-tree,
Bramble,
Broom,
Buck-bean,
Bugloss,
Bulrush,
Burdock,
Buttercup,
Cure.
Joking.
Impatience.
Sourness of Temper.
Hate.
Prosperity.
Treachery.
Frivolous Amusement.
Bluntness.
Stoicism.
Envy.
Humility.
Ardour.
Calm Repose.
Falsehood.
Indiscretion.
Touch me not.
Ingratitude.
DICTIONARY.
307
Cactus, Virginia,
Canterbury Bell,
Catchfly,
Champignon,
Cherry-tree,
Chesnut-tree,
Chicory,
Cinquefoil,
Circtea,
Clematis,
Clot-bur,
Clove-tree,
Columbine,
Convolvulus, Night,
Coriander,
Corn.
Cornbottle,
Cornel Cherry-tree,
Cowslip, American,
Cress,
Crown Imperial,
Cuscuta,
Cypress,
Daffodil,
Horror.
Constancy.
Snare.
Suspicion.
Good Education.
Do me justice.
Frugality.
Beloved Daughter.
Spell.
Artifice.
Rudeness.
Dignity.
Folly.
Night.
Hidden Merit.
Riches.
Delicacy.
Durability.
You are my divinity.
Resolution.
Power.
Meanness.
Mourning.
Self-love.
308 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Daisy,
_, garden,
-, wild,
Dandelion,
Day-Lily, Yellow,
Dittany,
Dock, Patience,
Dodder,
Ebony-tree,
Eglantine,
Fennel,
Dig,
Fir-tree,
Flax,
Flower-de-Luce,
Forget-Me-Not,
Fraxinella,
Fuller’s Teasel,
Geranium, Pencilled
leaf,
Innocence.
I share your sentiments.
I will think of it.
The rustic Oracle.
Coquetry.
Childbirth.
Patience.
Meanness.
Blackness.
Poetry.
Strength.
Longevity.
Elevation.
I feel your kindness.
Flame.
Forget me not.
Fire.
Misanthropy.
Ingenuity.
,Rose-scented,Preference.
-, Scarlet, Stupidity.
DICTIONARY.
309
Geranium, Sorrowful,
-, Wild,
Grass,
Hawthorn,
Hazel,
Heart’s-ease,
Heath.
Heliotrope, Peruvian,
Hellenium,
Hepatica,
Holly,
Hollyhock,
Honeysuckle,
Hop,
Hornbeam,
Horse-chesnut,
Hortensia,
Hyacinth,
Ice-plant,
Ipomsea,
Iris,
Ivy,
Melancholy Mind.
Stedfast Piety.
Utility.
Hope.
Peace, Reconciliation.
Think of me.
Solitude.
Devoted Attachment.
Tears.
Confidence.
Foresight.
Ambition.
Generous and Devoted
Affection.
Injustice.
Ornament.
Luxury.
You are cold.
Game, Play.
Your looks freeze me.
I attach myself to you.
Message.
Friendship.
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
310
Jasmine,
-, Carolina,
-, Indian,
Jonquil,
Juniper,
Larch,
Larkspur,
Laurel,
Laurustinus,
Lavender,
Leaves, Dead,
Lilac,
-, White,
Lily,
Lily of the Valley,
Linden-tree,
Liverwort,
London Pride,
Lotus,
Lucern,
Madder,
Maiden Hair,
Mallow,
Amiabieness.
Separation.
I attach myself to you
Desire.
Protection.
Boldness.
Lightness.
Glory.
I die if neglected.
Mistrust.
Sadness, Melancholy.
First emotions of love.
Youth.
Majesty.
Return of Happiness.
Conjugal Love.
Confidence.
Frivolity.
Eloquence.
Life.
Calumny.
Secrecy.
Beneficence.
DICTIONARY.
Manchineel-tree,
Mandrake,
Maple,
Marigold,
-■, Prophetic,
Falsehood.
Rarity.
Reserve.
Grief.
Prediction.
-, and Cypress, Despair.
Marvel of Peru, Timidity.
Meadow Saffron,
Mezereon,
My best days are past.
Coquetry, Desire to
please.
Mignionette,
Your Qualities surpass
your Charms.
Milkwort,
Mistletoe,
Hermitage.
I surmount all Difficul¬
ties.
Moonwort,
Moss,
Forgetfulness.
Maternal Love.
Mulberry-tree, Black, I shall not survive you.
-, White, Wisdom.
Musk-plant,
Myrobolan,
Myrtle,
Weakness.
Privation.
Love.
Narcissus,
Nettle,
Self-love.
Cruelty.
312
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS
Nightshade, Bitter¬
sweet,
-, Enchan¬
ter’s,
Nosegay,
Oak,
Olive,
Ophrys, Spider,
Orange-flower,
■-tree,
Orchis, Bee,
Parsley,
Passion Flower,
Peppermint,
Periwinkle,
Pine-apple,
Pink,
-, Yellow,
Plane-tree,
Plum-tree,
-, Wild,
Poplar, Black,
-, White,
Truth.
Spell.
Gallantry.
Hospitality.
Peace.
Skill.
Chastity.
Generosity.
Error.
Festiyity.
Faith.
Warmth of Feeling.
Tender Recollections.
You are perfect.
Pure Love.
Disdain.
Genius.
Keep your Promises.
Independence.
Courage.
Time.
DICTIONARY.
313
Poppy, •
Consolation. .
-, White,
Potatoe,
Sleep.
My Bane, my Antidote.
Beneficence.
Primrose, Childhood.
-, large-flowered
Evening, Inconstancy.
Privet,
Prohibition.
Quince,
Temptation.
Ranunculus,
You are radiant with
charms.
Reeds,
Rose,
Music.
Love.
•, Hundred-leaved, Grace.
., Monthly, Beauty ever new.
, Musk,
-, Single,
-, White,
-, Withered,
-, Yellow,
Rosebud,
-, White,
Capricious Beauty.
Simplicity.
Silence.
Fleeting Beauty.
Infidelity.
A young Girl.
A heart unacquainted
with Love.
E E
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
314
Rosemary,
Rue, Wild,
Rush,
Saffron,
Sage,
Sainfoin, Shaking,
St. John’s Wort,
Sardonia,
Sensitive Plant,
Snapdragon,
Snowdrop,
Sorrel, Wood,
Speedwell,
Spindle-tree
Star of Bethlehem,
Stock,
-, Ten Week,
Stonecrop,
Straw, Broken,
-, Whole,
Strawberry,
Sunflower,
Your presence revives
me.
Morals.
Docility.
Beware of Excess.
Esteem.
Agitation.
Superstition.
Irony.
Chastity.
Presumption.
Hope.
Joy.
Fidelity.
Your charms are en¬
graven on my heart.
Purity.
Lasting Beauty.
Promptness.
Tranquillity.
Rupture of a contract.
Union.
Perfection.
False Riches.
DICTIONARY.
315
Sweet Sultan,
Sweet-william,
Sycamore,
Syringa,
Tansey, Wild,
Tendrils of climbing
plants,
Thistle,
Thorn-apple,
Thrift,
Thyme,
Tremella Nostoc,
Truffle,
Tuberose,
Tulip,
Tussilage, Sweet-
scented,
Valerian,
-, Greek,
Venus’s Looking-
Happiness.
Finesse.
Curiosity.
Fraternal Love.
I declare war against
you.
Ties.
Surliness.
Deceitful Charms.
Sympathy.
Activity.
Resistance.
Surprise.
Dangerous Pleasures.
Declaration of Love.
Justice shall be done to
you.
An accommodating dis¬
position.
Rupture.
glass,
Flattery.
310
LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS.
Veronica,
Vervain,
Vine,
Violet,
-, White,
Fidelity.
Enchantment.
Intoxication.
Modesty.
Innocence, Candour.
Wallflower,
Wallnut,
Whortleburry,
Willow, Weeping,
Wormwood
Fidelity in Misfortune.
Stratagem.
Treachery
Mourning.
Absence.
Yew,
Sorrow.
THE
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
The Roman-catholic Monks, or the observers
of the Roman-catholic ritual, have compiled a
Catalogue of Flowers for every day in the year,
and dedicated each flower to a particular saint,
on account of its blooming about the time of
that saint’s festival. These appropriations form
a complete Calendar of the Flowers.
The figures attached express the year in which
the saint died.
JANUARY.
1. Laurustinus, Vibernum tinus. St. Faine,
or Fanchea, an Irish saint of the sixth
century.
2. Groundsel, Senecio vulgaris. St. Macarius
of Alexandria, 394.
e e 2
318
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
3. Iris, Persian, Iris Persica. St. Genevieve,
patroness of Paris, 422.
4. Hazel, Corylus avellana. St. Titus, disciple
of St. Paul.
5. Hellebore, Helleborus fxtidus. St. Simeon
Stylites of Rome.
6. Moss, screw, Tortula rigida. St. Nilam-
mon.
7. Laurel, Portugal, Prunus Lusitanica. St.
Kentigerna.
8. Tremella, yellow, Tremella deliquescens. St.
Gudula, patroness of Brussels.
9. Laurel, common, Prunus lauro-cerasus, or
common small-fruited cherry. St. Mar-
ciana of Rome.
10. Gorse, or Furze, Ulex Europaus. St. Wil¬
liam, of Bourges, 1207.
11. Moss, early, Bryum hornum. Swan-neck
thread-moss. St. Theodosius.
12. Moss, hygrometric, F unaria hygrometrica.
St. Arcadius.
13. Yew-tree, common, Taxus baccata. St.
Veronica, a nun of Milan, 1497.
14. Strawberry, barren, Fragaria sterilis. St.
Hilarj', 368.
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
319
15. Ivy, Hedera helix. St. Paul, the first
hermit.
16. Nettle, common red Dead, Lamium pur-
pureum. St. Marcellus, Pope.
17. Anemone, garden, Anemone hortensis. St.
Anthony, patriarch of monks, 251.
18. Moss, four-toothed, Bryum pellucidum. St.
Prisca, a Roman martyr.
19. Nettle, white Dead, Lamium album. St.
Martha, a Roman martyr, 270.
20. Nettle, woolly Dead, Lamium Gargaricum.
St. Fabian, Pope.
21. Hellebore, black, Helleborus niger. St. Ag¬
nes, a special patroness of purity: be¬
headed at the age of thirteen, 304.
22. Grass, early whitlow, Draba verna. St.
Vincent, a Spanish martyr.
23. Peziza, Peziza acetabolum. St. Raymond
of Pennafort, 1275.
24. Moss, stalkless, Phascum muticum. St.
Timothy, disciple of St. Paul, 250.
25. Hellebore, winter, Helleborus hyemalis. The
Conversion of St. Paul.
26. Bufter-bur, white, Tussilago alba, or Colt’s-
foot. St. Polycarp.
320
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
27. Moss, earth, Phascum cuspidatum. St.
Chrysostom.
28. Daisy, double, Beilis perennis plenut. St.
Margaret of Hungary, 1271.
29. Fern, flowering, Osmundaregalis. St. Fran¬
cis of Sales, 1622.
30. Spleen-wort, Asplenium trichomanes. St.
Martin.
31. Hart’s Tongue, or Spleen-wort, Asplenium
scolopendrium. St. Marcella, 410.
FEBRUARY.
1. Moss, lesser water, Fontinalis minor. St.
Ignatius; and Bay-tree, Laurus nobilis.
St. Bridget, patroness of Ireland.
2. Snow-drop, Galanthus nivalis. Purification
of the Virgin Mary.
3. Moss, great water, Fontinalis anti-pyretica.
St. Blase of Armenia, 316.
4. Moss, common hair, or Goldilocks, Polytri¬
chum commune. St. Jane, or Queen Joan,
1505.
Bay, Indian, Laurus indica. St. Margaret
of England.
5. Primrose, common, Primula vulgaris. St.
Agatha, a Sicilian martyr.
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
321
Primrose, red, Primula acaulis. St. Ade¬
laide, 1015.
6. Hyacinth, blue, Hyacinthus orientalis. St.
Dorothy, 308.
7. Cyclamen, round - leafed, Cyclamen coum.
St. Romuald, 1027.
8. Moss, narrow-leafed spring, Mnium andro-
gynum. St. John of Matha, 1213.
9. Narcissus, Roman, Narcissus Romanus. St.
Apollonia, 249.
10. Mezereon, Daphne mezereon. St. Scholas-
tica, 543.
Moss, silky fork, Mnium heteromallum. St.
Coteris, fourth century.
11. Primrose, red, Primula verna rubra. St.
Theodora, empress, 367.
12. Anemone, noble Liverwort, Anemone hepa-
tica. St. Eulalia of Barcelona.
13. Polyanthos, Primula Polyanthus. St. Ca¬
therine de Ricci, 1589.
14. Crocus, yellow, Crocus mccsiacus, or Crocus
aureus. St. Valentine, the lover’s saint.
He was a priest at Rome, and married
there about the year 270.
15. Crocus, cloth of gold, Crocus sulphu-
322
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
reus. St. Sigifred, bishop of Sweden,
1002.
16. Primrose, lilac, Primula acaulis plena. St.
Juliana.
17. Crocus, Scotch, Crocus susianus. St. Fla¬
vian, archbishop of Constantinople, 449.
18. Speedwell, wall, Veronica vernus arvensis.
St. Simeon, bishop of Jerusalem, 116.
19. Speedwell, field, Veronica agrestis. St.
Barbatus, patron of Benevento, bishop,
682.
20. Cynoglossum omphalodes, or C. lusitani-
cum. St. Mildred, abbess of Munster.
21. Crocus, white, Crocus albus. St. Servianus,
bishop, 452.
22. Margaret, herb, Beilis perennis. St. Mar¬
garet of Cortona, 1297.
23. Apricot-tree, Prunus armeniaca. St. Mil-
burge of England.
24. Fern, great, Osmunda regalis. St. Ethel-
bert, King of Kent.
25. Peach blossom, Amygdalus persica. St.
Walburg, abbess, of Swabia, Germany.
26. Periwinkle, lesser, Vinca minor. St. Vic¬
tor, seventh century.
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
323
27. Lungwort, Pulmonaria officinalis < St. Leau-
der, bishop, 596.
28. Crocus, purple, Crocus vermis. St. Pro-
terius, patriarch of Alexandria, 557.
MARCH.
1. Leek, common, Allium porrum. St. David
of Wales, archbishop, 544.
2. Chickweed, dwarf mouse-ear, Cerastium
pumilum. St. Chad, or Ceada, martyr,
under the Lombards, in the sixth cen¬
tury.
3. Marigold, golden fig, Mesembryanthemum
aureum. St. Cunegunda, empress, 1040.
4. Chickweed, common, Alsine media. St.
Casimir, prince of Poland, 1458.
5. Hellebore, green, Helleborus viridis. St.
Adrian, 309.
6. Lily, Lent, Pseudo narcissus multiplex. St.
Colette, bishop.
7. Daffodil, early, Narcissus simplex. St. Per-
petua, martyred under the emperor Seve-
rus, 203.
8. Rose, ever-blowing, Rosa semperjlorens. St.
Rosa, of Viterbo, 1261.
324
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
Jonquil, great, Narcissus l&tus. St. Felix,
646.
9. Daffodil, hoop-petticoat, Narcissus bulbo-
codium. St. Catherine of Bologna, 1463.
10. Chickweed, upright, Veronica triphyllos.
St. Droctavseus, abbot, 580.
11. Heath, Cornish, Erica vagans. St. Eulo-
gius of Cordova, 851.
12. Ixia, or crocus-leafed Mistletoe, Ixia bulbo-
codium, or Viscum albus bulbus. St.
Gregory the Great, Praetor of Rome,
574.
13. Heart’s Ease, Viola tricolor. St. Euphrasia,
410.
14. Bindweed, mountain, Soldanella alpina.
St. Maud, or Matilda, queen, 968.
15. Colt’s-foot, common, Tussilago farfara. St.
Zachary, Pope, 752.
16. Daffodil, nodding, Narcissus nutans. St.
Julian of Cilicia.
17. Violet, sweet, Viola odorata. St. Gertrude,
abbess, 626.
Shamrock, White Trefoil, Trifolium repens.
St. Patrick, apostle of Ireland.
18. Leopard’s bane, great, Doronicum par da-
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
325
lianches. St. Cyril, archbishop of Jeru¬
salem.
19. Star of Bethlehem, yellow, Ornithogalum
luteum. St. Joseph, spouse of the Virgin
Mary.
20. Violet, dog’s, Viola canina. St. Wolfram,
archbishop of Sens, 720.
21. Fumitory, bulbous, Fumaria bulbosa. St.
Bennet, or Benedict, founder of the Order
of Benedict, of Rome, 543.
22. Ficaria verna. St. Catherine of Sweden,
abbess, 1381.
23. Daffodil, peerless, Narcissus incomparabilis.
St. Alphonsus Turibius, archbishop of
Lima, 1606.
24. Saxifrage, golden, Chrysosplenium oppositi-
folium. St. Irenseus, bishop of Sirmium,
304.
25. Marigold, Calendula officinalis. Annuncia¬
tion of the Virgin Mary.
26. Henbane, nightshade-leafed, Hyosciamus
scopalia. St. Braulio, bishop of Sara¬
gossa, 646.
27. Jonquil, sweet, Narcissus odorus. St. John
of Egypt, hermit, 394.
326
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
28. Leopard’s bane, Doronicum plantagineum.
St. Priscus, 260.
29. Ox-lip, or great Cowslip, Primula elatior.
St. Eustatius, abbot, 625.
Fumitory, Fumaria officinalis. St. Jonas, 327.
30. Water-cress, Cardamine hirsuta, St. John
of Climacus.
Daffodil, lesser, Narcissus mincrr. St. Zosi-
mus, bishop of Syracuse, 660.
31. Benjamin-tree, Laurus benzoin. St. Ben¬
jamin, deacon, martyr, 424.
APRIL.
1. Mercury, French annual, Mercurialis an¬
nua. St. Hugh, bishop, 1132.
2. Violet, white, Viola alba. St. Francis of
Paula, a native of Calabria.
3. Alkanet, evergreen, Anchusa sempervirens.
St. Agape, 304.
4. Crown Imperial, red, Fritillaria imperialis.
St. Isidore, bishop of Seville, 636.
5. Crown Imperial, yellow, Fritillaria imperi¬
alis lutea. St. Vincent Ferrer, 1419.
6. Hyacinth, starch, Hyacinthus racemosus. St.
Sixtus I., Pope.
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
327
7. Anemone, wood, Anemone nemorosa. St.
Aphraates, fourth century.
8. Ground-ivy, Glechoma hederacea. St. Dio¬
nysius, bishop of Corinth.
9. Polyanthos, red, Primula. St. Mary, of
Egypt, 421.
10. Violet, pale, Viola tombrigens. St. Mech-
tildes, abbess, fourteenth century.
11. Dandelion, Leontodon taraxacum. St. Leo
the Great, Pope, 461.
12. Saxifrage, great thick-leafed. Suiifraga
crassifolia. St. Zeno, bishop, 380.
13. Narcissus, green, Narcissus viridijlorus. St.
Hermenegild, martyr, 586.
14. Borage, common, Borago officinalis. St.
Lidwina, 1184.
15. Stitchwort, greater, Stellaria holostea. St.
Peter Gonzales, 1246.
16. Tulip, yellow, Tulipa sylvestris. St. Joa¬
chim of Sienna, 1305.
17. Arum, Friar’s cowl, broad-leafed, Arum
arisarum. St. Stephen, of Citeaux, abbot,
1134.
18. Narcissus, musk, Narcissus moschatus. St.
Appollonius, 186.
328
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
19. Garlic, Allium ursinum. St. Leo IX., Pope,
1054.
20. Snowflake, spring, Leucoium vermim. St.
Agnes of Monte Pulciano, 1317.
21. Narcissus, cypress, Narcissus orientalis albus.
St. Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury.
22. Crowfoot, wood, or Goldilocks, Ranunculus
auricomus. St. Rufus of Glendaloch.
23. Harebell, Hyacinthus non scriptus. St.
George the martyr, patron of England.
24. Black thorn, Prunus spinosa. St. Fidelis.
25. Tulip, clarimond, Tulipa proccox. St. Mark,
the Evangelist.
26. Erysimum, yellow, Erysimum barbarea. St.
Richarius, abbot, 645.
27. Daffodil, great, Narcissus major. St. Anas-
tasius, Pope, 401.
28. Arum, spotted, Arummaculutum. Sts. Didy-
mus and Theodora, 304.
29. Herb Robert, Geranium robertianum. St.
Robert, abbot of Molesme, 1110.
30. Cowslip, Primula veris. St. Catherine of
Sienna, 1380.
MAY.
1. Tulip, Gesner, Tulipa gesnerina. St. Philip,
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
329
supposed to have been the first of Christ s
Apostles.
Bachelor’s Button, Lychnis dioica. St.
James the just and the less, apostle, mar¬
tyred in the tumult in the Temple.
2. Charlock, Raphanus raplianistrum, or Sina-
pus arveusis. St. Athanasius, patriarch
of Alexandria, 373.
3. Narcissus, poetic, Narcissus poeticus. The
discovery of the Cross, 326.
4. Stock Gilliflower, Cheiranthus incanus. St.
Monicla, mother of St. Augustine.
5. Apple-tree, Pyrus malus. Sts. Angelus
and Pius V. Pope, 1572.
6. Globe Flower, bright yellow, Trollius euro-
pccus. St. John Damascene, 780.
7. Globe Flower, Asiatic, bright-orange, Trol¬
lius asiaticus. St. John of Beverley.
8. Lily of the Valley, Convallaria majalis. St.
Selena.
9. Lily of the Valley, Convallaria multiflora.
St. Gregory of Nazianzen, 389.
10. Peony, slender-leafed, Paonia tenuifolia.
St. Comgal, Irish abbot, 601.
f f 2
330
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS,
11. Asphodel, Lancashire, Asphodelus lu teus. St.
Mammertus, archbishop of Vienna, 477.
12. Iris, German, Iris Germanica. St. Ger-
manus, patriarch of Constantinople, 733.
13. Comfrey, common, Symphytum officinalis.
St. John the silent, bishop, 558.
14. Peony, common, Pceonia officinalis , and
Peony, coralline, P. corollina. St. Pontius,
258.
15. Poppy, Welsh, Papaver cambricum. St.
Dympna, seventh century.
16. Star of Bethlehem, great, Ornithogalum
•umbellatum. St. John Nepomucene, 1383.
17. Poppy, early red, Papaver argemone. St.
Paschal, 1592.
18. Mouse-ear, or Hawkweed, Hieracium pilo-
sella, St. Eric, King of Sweden, 1151.
19. Monk’s hood, Aconitum napellus. St.
Dunstan, Archbishop of Canterbury, 988.
20. Horse Chesnut, AEschylus hippocastanum.
St. Bernardine of Sienna, 1444.
21. Ragged Robin, Lychnis Jios cuculi. St.
Felix of Cantalicio, 1587.
22. Star of Bethlehem, yellow, Tragopngon pra-r
tensis. St. Yvo, 1303.
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS. 331
‘23. Lilac, Seringa vulgaris. St. Julia, fifth
century.
24. Poppy, monkey, Papaver orientate. St.
Vincent, of Lerins, 450.
25. Herb Bennet, common, Geum urbanum. St.
Urban, Pope, 223.
26. Rhododendron, purple. Rhododendron pon-
ticum. St. Augustine, archbishop of Can¬
terbury, 604.
Azalea, yellow, Azalea, pontica, St. Philip
Neri, 1595.
27. Buttercup, Ranunculus acris. St. John,
Pope, 526.
Bachelor’s Button, yellow, Ranunculus acris
plenus. St. Bede, 735.
28. Iris, lurid, Iris lurida. St. Germain, bishop
of Paris, 576.
29. Blue-bottle, Centaurea montana. St. Cyril.
about 275.
30. Spearwort, lesser, Ranunculus flammula.
St. Ferdinand III. Confessor, King of
Castile and Leon, 1252.
31. Lily, yellow Turk’s cap, Lilium pomponium,
St. Petronilla, first century.
332
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
JUNE.
1. Rose, yellow, Rosa lutea. St. Justin, martyr,
167.
’ 2. Pimpernel, common scarlet, Anagallis ar-
vensis. St. Erasmus, 303.
3. Rose of Meaux, Rosa provincialis. St. Ceci-
lius, 211.
4. Indian Pink, Dianthus chinensis. St. Qui-
rinus, bishop, 304.
5. Rose, three-leafed China, Rosa sinica. St.
Boniface, first missionary from England
to Friesland; afterwards archbishop of
Mentz, and primate of Germany and
Belgium, eighth century.
6. Pink, common, Dianthus deltoides. St.
Norbert, 1134.
7. Centaury, red, Chironia centaureum. St.
Paul, bishop of Constantinople, 350.
8. Money-wort, Herb T wo-pence, or creeping
Loosestrife,' Lysimachia nummularia. St.
Medard, bishop, sixth century.
9. Barberry, Berberis vulgaris. St. Columba,
597.
10. Iris, bright yellow, Iris pseudo-acorus. St.
Margaret, queen of Scotland, 1093.
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
333
11. Daisy, midsummer, Chrysanthemum leu-
canthemum. St. Barnabas, apostle, first
century.
12. Rose, 'white dog, Rosa arvensis. St. John,
hermit, 1479.
13. Ranunculus, garden, Ranunculus asiaticus.
St. Anthony of Padua, 1231.
14. Basil, sweet, Ocimum basilicum. St. Basil,
archbishop, 379.
15. Sensitive plant, Mimosa sensitiva. St. Vitus,
martyr, fourth century.
16. Rose, moss, Rosa muscosa. St. Julietta,
martyr, 304.
17. Monkey-flower, yellow, Mimulus luteus. St.
Nicandeo. about 303.
18. Poppy, horned, Chelidonium glaucum. St.
Marina, eighth century.
19. La Julienne de Nuit, Hesperis tristis. St.
Juliana Falconieri, 1340.
20. Poppy, doubtful, Pa-paver dubium. St.
Silverius, Pope, 538.
21. Bugloss, Viper’s, Echium vulgare. St.
Aloysius, 1591.
22. Canterbury Bell, Campanula medium. St.
Paulinus, bishop of Nola, 431.
334
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
23. Ladies Slipper, Cypripedium calceolus. St.
Etheldreda, 679.
24. St. John’s wort, Hypericum pulchrum. Na¬
tivity of St. John the Baptist.
25. Sweet William, Dianthus barbatus. St.
William of Monte Virgine, 1142.
26. Sowthistle, Alpine hairy blue, Sonchus
cieruleus. St. Reingarda, 1135.
27. St. John’s wort, perforated, Hypericum
perforatum. St. John of Montier, sixth
century.
28. Cornflower, blue, Centaurea cyanus. St.
Irenseus, bishop of Lyons, 202.
29. Rattle, yellow, Rhinanthus crista-galli. St.
Peter the apostle.
30. Cistus, yellow, Cistus helianthemum. St.
Paul the apostle.
JULY.
1. Agrimony, Agrimonia eupatoria. St. Aaron.
2. Lily, white, Lilium oandidum. Virgin Mary.
3. Mallow, common, Malta sylvestris. St.
Phocas, a gardener, 303.
4. Day Lily, tawny, Hemerocallis fulva. St.
Ulric, bishop of Augsburg.
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS. 335
5. Rose, double yellow, Rosa sulphurea. St.
Edana, of Elpbin and Tuam.
6. Ilawkweed, Crepis barbata. St. Julian,
anchorite, fourth century.
7. Nasturtium, Tropceolum majus. St. Felix,
bishop of Nantes, 584.
8. Primrose, evening, (Bnothera biennis. St.
Elizabeth, queen of Portugal, 1336.
9. Sowthistle, marsh, Sonchus palustris. St.
Everildis.
10. Snapdragon, speckled, Antirrhinum tri-
phyllum. Sts. Rufina and Secunda, 257.
11. Lupine, yellow, Lupinus jlavus. St. James,
bishop of Nisibis, 350.
12. Snapdragon, great, Antirrhinum purpureum.
St. John Gualbert, abbot, 1073.
13. Lupine, blue, Lupinus hirsutus. St. Euge-
nius, bishop, 505.
14. Lupine, red, Lupinus perennis. St. Bona-
venture, cardinal bishop, 1274.
15. Marigold, small Cape, purple and white,
Calendula pluvialis. St. Swithin, bishop,
862.
16. Convolvulus, Convolvulus purpureus. St.
Eustathius, patriarch of Antioch, 338.
33G
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
17. Sweet-pea, Lathyrus odoratus. St. Mar-
cellina, 397.
18. Marigold, autumn, Chrysanthemum corona-
rium. St. Bruno, bishop, 1125.
19. Hawkweed, golden, Hieracium auranticum.
St. Vincent de Paule, 1660.
20. Dragon’s head, Virginian, Dracocephalus
Virginianum. St. Margaret of Antioch.
21. Lily, Philadelphian. Lilium Philadelphicum.
St. Praxedes.
22. Lily, African, Agapanthus umbellatus. St.
Mary Magdalen.
23. Musk flower, Scabius atro-purpurea. St.
Apollinaris, bishop of Ravenna.
24. Lupine tree, Lupinus arboreus. St. Lupus,
bishop, 478.
25. Herb Christopher, white, Act a-a spicata.
St. Christopher.
26. Chamomile, or Corn Feverfew, Matricaria
chamomilla. St. Ann, mother of the Vir¬
gin Mary.
27. Loose-strife, Lythrum salicaria. St. Pan-
taleon, 303.
28. Groundsel, mountain, Senecio montanus.
St. Innocent I., Pope, 417.
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
337
29. Chironia, red, Chironia centaurium. St.
Martha.
30. Mullein, white, Verbascum lychnitis. St.
Julietta, 303.
31. Mullein, yellow, Verbascum virgatum. , St.
Ignatius, of Loyola, founder of the Jesuits,
1556.
AUGUST.
9. Stramony, or Thorn-apple, Datura stramo¬
nium. St. Peter ad Vincula.
2. Tiger Lily, Lilium tigrum. St. Alfrida,
834.
3. Hollyhock, Althea rosea. Discovery of the
relics of St. Stephen, 415.
4. Bluebell, Campanula rotundifolia. St. Do¬
minic, founder of the Friar Preachers,
1221.
5. Lily, Egyptian water, Nelumbo niloticu. St.
Mary ad Nives.
6. Meadow Saffron, Colchicum autumnale.
Transfiguration of our Lord on Mount
Tahor.
7. Amaranth, common, Amaranthus hypochon-
driacus. St. Cajetan, 1547.
8. Love lies bleeding, Amaranthus procumbens.
St. Hormisdas.
G G
338
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
9. Ragwort, yellow, Senecio jacobaa. St. Ro-
manus.
10. Balsam, Impatiens balsamea. St. Lawrence,
martyr, 258.
11. China Aster, Aster Chinensis. St. Susanna,
third century.
12. Sowthistle, great corn, Sonchus arvensis.
St. Clare, abbess, 1253.
13. Groundsel, marsh, Great Fen Rag-wort, or
Bird’s Tongue, Senecio paludosus. St. Ra-
digunda.
14. Zinnia, Zinnia elegans. St. Eusebius, third
century.
15. Virgin’s Bower, white, Clematis vitalba.
Assumption of the Virgin Mary ; or the
miraculous ascent of her body into
heaven.
16. Lily, belladonna, Amaryllis belladonna. St.
Hyacinth, 1257.
17. Snapdragon, Toadflax, Antyrrhinum lina-
ria. St. Manus, 275.
18. Marigold, African, Tagetes erecta. St.
Helen, empress, 382.
19. Timothy grass, branched Cat’s Tail grass,
Phleum panniculatum, or Ph. asperum. St.
Timothy, 304.
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
339
20. Dandelion, Leontodon serotinus. St. Ber¬
nard, abbot, 1153.
21. Marigold, French, Tagetes patula. St. Jean
Francois de Chantal, 1641.
22. Timothy, common Cat’s Tail grass, Phleum
pratense. St. Timothy, 311.
23. Tansy, common, Tanacetum vulgare. St.
Philip Beniti, 1285.
24. jSunflower, tall, Helianthus annuus. St.
Bartholomew, apostle.
25. Sunflower, perennial, Helianthus multiflorus.
St. Louis, king of France, 1270.
26. Amaryllis, banded, Amaryllis vitata. St.
Zephyrinus, Pope, 219.
27. Hawkweed, hedge, Hieracium umbellatum.
St. Cajsarius, archbishop of Arles, 542.
28. Golden rod, Solidago, Virga aurea. St
Augustine, bishop, 430.
29. Hollyhock, yellow, Althea fiava. St. Sabi-
nus, king, about 697.
30. Lily, Guernsey, Amaryllis sarniensis. St.
Rose, of Lima, 1617.
31. Pheasant’s eye, Adonis autumnalis. St. Ray-
mund Nonnatus, 1240.
340
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
SEPTEMBER.
1. Orpine, or Livelong, great, Sedurn tele-
phium. St. Giles, patron of beggars and
cripples. Born at Athens; abbot of
Nismes, in France ; died, 750.
2. Golden rod, Solidago. St. Margaret, thir¬
teenth century.
3. Flea-bane, common yellow, Inula dysen-
terica. St. Simeon St.ylites, the younger,
592.
4. Soapwort, pale pink, Saponaria officinalis.
St. Rosalia, 1160.
5. Mushroom, or champignon, Agaricus cam-
pestris. St. Laurence Justinian, first pa¬
triarch of Venice, 1455.
6. Dandelion, Leontodon autumnalis. St.Pambo,
of Nitria, 385.
7. Starwort, golden, Aster solidaginoides. St.
Cloud, 560.
8. Starwort, Italian blue, Aster amellus. St.
Adrian, 306.
9. Golden rod, Canadian, Solidago Canadensis.
St. Omer, 607.
10. Crocus, autumnal, Crocus autumnalis. St.
Pulcheria, empress, 453.
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
341
11. Meadow Saffron, variegated, Colchicum va-
riegatum. St. Hyacinthus, 257.
12. Passion-flower, semilunar, Passijlora pel-
tata. St. Earnswith, abbess, seventh
century.
13. Crocus, officinal, Crocus sativus. St. Eulo-
gius, patriarch of Alexandria, 608.
14. Passion-flower, blue, Passijlora carulea. Ex¬
altation of the Holy Cross, 629.
15. Saffron Byzantine, Colchicum Byzanticum.
St. Nicetas, fourth century.
16. Starwort, sea-blue, Aster tripolium. St.
Editha, 984.
17. Mallow, narrow-leafed, Malva angustifolia.
St. Lambert, bishop, 709.
18. Starwort, pendulous, Aster pendulus. St.
Thomas, archbishop of Valencia, 1555.
19. Scabius, Devil’s bit, Scabiosa succisa. St.
Lucy, 1090.
20. Meadow Saffron, common, Colchicum autum-
nale. St. Eustachius.
21. Passion-flower, fringed-leafed, variegated,
Passijlora ciliata. St. Matthew the Evan¬
gelist.
22. Boletus, tree, Boletus arboreus. St. Mau¬
rice, fourth century.
G G 2
342
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
23. Star wort, white bushy, Aster dumosus. St.
Thecla, first century.
24. Fungus, Agaricus fimetarius. St. Gerard,
bishop, 1046.
25. Boletus, great, order Fungi, Boletus bovinus.
St. Ceolfrid, abbot, 716.
26. Golden rod, great, Solidago gigantea. St.
Justina, 304.
27. Starwort, white small-leafed N. American,
Aster multiflorus. St. Delphina, 1323.
28. Golden rod, evergreen, Solidago semper-
virens. St. Eustochium, 419.
29. Michaelmas Daisy, Aster tradescanti. St.
Michael and all Angels.
30. Amaryllis, golden, Amaryllis aurea. St.
Jerome, 420.
OCTOBER.
1. Amaryllis, lowly, Amaryllis humilis. St.
Remigius, bishop of Rheims, 533.
2. Soapwort, Saponaria officinalis. Feast of
the holy guardian Angels.
3. Helenium, downy, Helenium pubescens. St.
Dionysius, the Areopagite, 51.
4. Southernwood, dwarf, Artemisia abrota -
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS. 343
num. St. Francis of Assisi, founder of
the order of Franciscans, 1226.
5. Chamomile, starlike, a fungus, Boltonia
asteroides. St. Placidus, 546.
6. Feverfew, creeping-rooted, Pyreihrum sero-
tinum. St. Bruno, founder of the Car¬
thusian order, 1101.
7. Chrysanthemum, Indian, Chrysanthemum
Indicum. St. Mark, Pope, 336.
8. Maudlin, sweet, Achillea ageratum. St.
Bridget, 1373.
9. Mushroom, milky, Agaricus lactijluus acris,
or A. Listen . St. Denys, patron saint of
France.
10. Aletris, Cape waved-leafed, Aletris viridi-
folia. St. Francis Borgia, 1572.
11. Holly, common, Ilex aquifolium. St. Ethel-
burga, 664.
12. Fleabane, wavy, Inula unduluta. St. Wil¬
fred, bishop of York, 709.
13. Helenium, yellow, smooth, Helenium autum-
nale. St.Edward,KingandConfessor,1066.
14. Fleabane, Indian, Inula Indica. St. Calix-
tus, Pope, 222.
15. Sweet Sultan, purple, Centaurea moschata.
St. Teresa, 15S2.
344
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
16. Yarrow, Achillea millefolium. St. Gall,
abbot, 646.
17. Sunflower, dwarf, Heliantlius indicus. St.
Anstrudis, 688.
18. Mushroom, Agaricus fioccosus. St. Luke,
Evangelist, 63.
19. Tick-seed, perennial, Coreopsis procera. St.
Frideswith, patroness of Oxford, eighth
century.
20. Sweet Sultan, yellow, Centaurea suaveolens.
St. Artemius, 362.
21. Silphium, hairy-stalked, Silphium asteris-
cus. St. Ursula, fifth century.
22. Silphium, rough three-leafed, Silphium tri-
foliutum. St. Nunilo, 840.
23. Starwort, slender-stalked, Aster junceus.
St. Theodoret, 362.
24. Starwort, Carolina, Aster carolinus flexu-
osus. St. Proclus, archbishop of Con¬
stantinople, 447.
25. Starwort, fleabane, Aster Conizoides. St.
Crispin, 287.
Starwort, meagre, Aster miser. St. Cris-
pinian, 287.—These were brothers and
martyrs, shoemakers, and patrons of that
art.
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
345
26. Golden-rod, late-flowered, Solidago petio-
laris. St. Evaristus, Pope, 112.
27. Starwort, floribund, Aster floribundus. St.
Frumentius, apostle of Ethiopia, fourth
century.
28. Chrysanthemum, late-flowering creeping,
Chrysserotinum. St. Simon, Apostle, the
Zealot.
Starwort, scattered, Aster passiflorus. St.
Jude, Apostle.
29. Narcissus, green autumnal, Narcissus vindi-
jiorus. St. Narcissus, bishop of Jeru¬
salem, second century.
30. Mushroom, mixen, Agaricus fimetanus. St.
Marcellus, the centurion, 298.
31. Tick-seed, fennel-leafed, Coreopsis ferula-
folia. St. Quintin, 287.
NOVEMBER.
1. Eaurustinus, Laurustinus sempervirens. St.
Fortunatus.
2. Cherry, winter, Physalts. St. Marcian, 387.
3. Primrose, Primula vulgaris. St. Flour,
389.
4. Strawberry-tree, Arbutus. St. Brinstane,
bishop of Winchester, 931.
346
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
5. Cherry, common winter, Physalis alkakengi,
St. Bertille, abbess of Chelles, 692.
6. 1 ew-tree, common, Taxus baccatci. St.
Leonard, sixth century.
7. Furcrsea, Furcrcea gigantea. St. Willebord,
first bishop of Utrecht, 738.
8. Aletris, Cape, Veliheimia. The four crowned
Brothers, martyrs, 304.
9. Aletris, glaucous-leafed, Veltheimia glauca.
St. John Lateran.
10. Fir, Scotch, Pinus sylvestris. St. Nympha,
fifth century.
11. Pine, Weymouth, Pinus strobus. St. Mar¬
tin, bishop, 397.
12. Aloe, great orange-flowering, Veltheimia,
or Aletris uvaria. St. Nilus, 390.
13. Bay, Laurus poetica. St. Homobonus,
1197.
14. Laurel, Portugal, Cerasus Lusitanica. St.
Lawrence, archbishop of Dublin, 1180.
15. Colt’s-foot, sweet-scented, Tussilago fra-
grans. St. Gertrude, abbess, 1292.
16. Hemp, African bow-string, Sanseviera Gui¬
lt een sis. St Edmund, archbishop of
Canterbury, 1242.
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
347
17. Stramony, or Thorn-apple tree, Batura
arborea. St. Gregory Thaumaturgus,
bishop, 270.
18. Passion-flower, notched-leafed, Passiflora
serratifolia. Dedication of the Churches
of St. Peter and St. Paul at Rome.
19. Passion-flower, apple-fruited, Passiflora
maliformis. St. Elizabeth of Hungary,
1231.
20. Stapelia, red, Stapelia rubra. St. Edmund,
King and martyr, 870.
21. Sorrel, wood, Oxalis grandiflora. Presenta¬
tion of the Virgin Mary.
22. Sorrel,wood, tube-flowered, Oxalis tubiflora.
StCecilia, martyr, and patroness of music,
particularly of sacred music ; supposed to
be the inventress of the organ, 230.
23. Sorrel, convex, Oxalis convexula. St. Cle¬
ment, Pope, 100.
24. Stapelia, starry, Stapelia radiata. St. John,
of the Cross, 1591.
25. Butterbur, sweet, Tussilago fragrans. St.
Catherine, patroness of spinsters, third
century.
26. Sorrel, linear, Oxalis linearis. St. Conrad,
bishop of Constance, 976.
348
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
27. Sorrel, lupine-leafed, Oxalis lupinifolia. St.
Virgil, bishop of Salzburg, 784.
28. Stapelia, variegated, Stapelia variegata. St.
Stephen the younger 764.
29. Sphenogyne, S, piliflora. St. Saturninus,
bishop, 257.
30. Sorrel, three-coloured, Oxalis tricolor. St.
Sapor, bishop.
DECEMBER.
1. Stapelia, dark, S. pulla. St. Eligius, bishop
of Noyon, 659.
2. Geodorura, lemon, Geodorum citrinum. St.
Bibiania, 363.
3. Indian tree, Euphorbia tirucalle. St. Francis
Xavier, 1552.
4. Gooseberry, Barbadoes, Cactus pereskia.
St. Chrysologus, 450.
o. Hibiscus, long-stalked, H. pedunculatus.
St. Crispina, 304.
6. Heath, nest-flowered, Erica nudiflora. St.
Nicholas, archbishop of Myra, 342.
7. Achania, hairy, Achania pilosa. St. Am¬
brose, 397.
8. Arbor Vitae, American, Thuja occidentalis.
Blessed Virgin Mary.
9.
10 .
11 .
12 .
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18,
19,
20
21
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS. 349
Spruce, Corsican, Pinus laricio. St. Leo-
cadia, 304.
Cypress, Portugal, Cupressus pendula. St.
Eulalia.
Pine, Aleppo, Pinus halepensis. St. Damas¬
cus, Pope, 384.
Heath, crowded, Erica abietina. St. Ead-
burga, 751.
Arbor Vitae, African, Thuja cupressoides. St.
Lucy, martyr, of Syracuse, 304.
Pine, swamp, Pinus pulustris. St. Spiridion,
archbishop, 348.
Pine, pitch, Pinus resinosa. St. Florence,
abbot.
Arbor Vitae, Chinese, Thuja orientalis. St.
Adelaide, empress, 999.
Cedar, white, Cupressus thyoides. St. Olym¬
pias, 410.
Cypress, New Holland, Cupressus australis.
St. Winebald, 760.
Heath, two-coloured, Erica bicolor. St.
Samthana, abbess, 738.
Stone-pine, Pinus pinea. St. Philogonius,
bishop of Antioch, 322.
Sparrow-wort, Erica passerina. St. Thomas,
apostle.
n ii
350
CALENDAR OF FLOWERS.
22. Heath, pellucid, Erica pellucida. St. Cyril,
881.
23. Cedar of Lebanon, Pinus cedrus. St. Vic¬
toria, 250.
24. Pine, frankincense, Pinus teeda. Sts. Thra-
silla and Emiliana.
25. Holly, Ilex aculeata baccifera. Nativity of
our Saviour.
26. Heath, purple, Erica purpurea. St. Ste¬
phen, first martyr.
27. Heath, flame, Erica flammea. St. John,
the Evangelist.
28. Heath, bloody-flowered, Erica cruenta. The
Holy Innocents, who suffered from Herod’s
cruelty.
29. Heath, Erica genistopha. St. Thomas,
archbishop of Canterbury, 1170.
30. Ponthieva, glandular, Ponthieva glandulosa.
St. Anysia, 304.
31. There is no flower appropriated to this day.
351
tub
DIAL OF FLOWERS.
’Tvvas a lovely thought to mark the hours.
As they floated in light away.
By the opening and the folding flowers
That laugh to the summer’s day.
Thus had each moment its own rich hue,
And its graceful cup and bell,
In whose coloured vase might sleep the dew.
Like a pearl in an ocean shell.
To such sweet signs might the time have flowed
In a golden current on.
Ere from the garden, man’s first abode.
The glorious guests were gone.
So might the days have been brightly told—
Those days of song and dreams—
When shepherds gathered their flocks of old
By the blue Arcadian streams;
So, in those isles of delight, that rest
Far off in a breezeless main.
352
DIAL OF FLOWERS.
Which many a hark with a weary guest
Has sought, but still in vain.
Yet is not life, in its real flight.
Marked thus—even thus—on earth,
By the closing of one hope’s delight,
And another’s gentle birth ?
Oh! let us live so that, flower by flower.
Shutting in turn, may leave
A lingerer still for the sunset hour,
A charm for the shaded eve 1
Hemans.
When a plant is approaching its state of per¬
fection, when its organs of nourishment are
completely developed, and its vegetation is most
luxuriant, then arrives the time of flowering,
which has been aptly termed “ the joy of plants.”
The most superficial observer must have noticed
how different is the season of flowering of indi¬
vidual plants, and how each month is adorned
with its particular flowers. When the intense
cold of January confines us to our houses, the
Black Hellebore, or Christmas Rose, unfolds
its dazzling white blossoms ; in February, the
innocent Snowdrop presents to us her elegant
cup. In the same month the Hazel puts forth
DIAL OF FLOWERS.
353
its catkins, and not rarely the early-blooming
Crowfoot shews the blue tips of its clusters of
blossom. March boasts a richer Flora; then
the Violet delights us with its fragrance ; the
Mezereon offers its peach-coloured flowers, and
the Primrose leads on along train of the charm¬
ing children of Spring. These now continue
to advance in increasing numbers, display ing,
especially in May and June, their highest splen¬
dour ; till at length the Meadow Saffron takes
leave of inclement Autumn, and, saturated with
rain, the Mosses acquire fresh vigour, and open
to the botanist a new field for investigation.
Not less different than the period of flower¬
ing is the time of the opening and shutting of
flowers. Some plants habitually open and close
their flowers by turns ; others are governed in
these respects by the weather; others again,
by the length or shortness of the day: while
some open and shut at certain hours, and thus
furnish materials for composing the Dial of
Flowers.
According to the observations of later botan¬
ists, the flowery crown of plants serves, among
other things, to envelop the tender organs of
II II 2
354
DIAL OF FLOWERS.
fructification, and to protect them from the
pernicious influence of external agents. Those
organs of fructification are the chief objects of
the maternal care of Nature ; while shut up in
the flower-hud, they acquire that strength and
perfection of parts which enable them to en¬
dure the light of the sun, and to perform the
functions for which they are designed. It is
not till they are capable of fulfilling these func¬
tions that the flower unfolds itself; but it
again closes at such times when external influ¬
ences might be injurious to the delicate organs
of fructification. Many flowers can bear only the
refreshing morning air and the first rays of the
sun, but remain shut all the rest of the day.
This may be particularly observed in the dif¬
ferent species of Convolvulus, Ipomasa, and
Goat’s Beard. We find these in general open
only till about eleven o’clock. In like manner,
the Mallows and the Mesembryanthemums un¬
fold their flowers about noon ; and precisely at
that time, in serene weather, open the singu¬
larly formed Drosera, and the common Purslain,
which shut again in an hour. Others unfold
themselves only in the evening, and continue
DIAL OF FLOWERS.
355
open all night, probably because their delicate
organs would be injured by the sun. The
CEnotheras, the Gauras, and the different spe¬
cies of the Mirabilis, furnish examples of this
kind.' Thus too the Cactus opuntia opens its
magnificent blossoms at night only, and towards
morning shuts them up for ever. The flowers
of many plants of the nineteenth class are ob¬
served to hang their heads during night—the
Camellia, for example—by which means the
rain, or dew, which might injure the tender
organs of fructification, can run off the more
easily. In other plants of this class, the flower
shuts up against rain, and on the approach of
evening, as is the case with the Marigolds.
The periodical change of colour in some
flowers is also worthy of remark. Thus the
flowers of the speckled French Honeysuckle
(Hedysarum maculatum') are purple in the
morning and green at noon. The changeable
Hibiscus (Hibiscus mutabilis) is white in the
morning, flesh-coloured at noon, and rose-red
in the evening. Thus, too, the great Corn-flag
(Gludiolus grandis) changes its colour several
times in the course of the day.
356
DIAL OF FLOWERS.
Neither is the scent of flowers equally strong
and agreeable at all hours of the day: many,
even of our indigenous flowers, have the strong¬
est scent at night. The Ixia cinnamomea gives
out its fragrance in the evening only; the highly-
scented Lesser Orpine ( Crassula odoratissima )
only in the night; the Epidendrum fragrans,
morning and evening ; another species of Epi¬
dendrum, hung up in a room, without earth or
water, yields an agreeable perfume for years.
The flowers of the Hebenstreitia dentata are
scentless in the morning, have a disagreeable
smell at noon, and give out in the evening
a fragrant odour, not unlike that of the Hya¬
cinth.
These properties of flowers, and the opening
and shutting of many at particular times of the
day, led to the idea of planting them in such a
manner as to indicate the succession of the
hours, and to make them supply the place of a
watch or clock. Those who are disposed to try
the experiment may easily compose such a dial
by consulting the following table, comprehend¬
ing the hours between three in the morning
and eight in the evening.
DIAL OF FLOWERS.
357
r
Name3 of Plants.
Hours
of
Opening.
Hours
of
Shutting.
i Yellow Goat’s Beard (Tragopogon luteum)
Common Base Hawkweed (Crepis tectorum)
Field Sowthistle ( Sonchus agrestis ) . . .
Dandelion ( Leontodon Taraxacum) . . .
Alpine Base Hawkweed (Crepis alpina)
Naked-stalked Poppy ( Papaver nudicaule )
Orange Day-lily (Hemerocallis fulva) . .
Red Hawkweed ( Hieracium rubrum ) . .
Meadow Goshmore ( Hypochairis pratensis)
Red Base Hawkweed ( Crepis rubra) . .
White Water Lily ( Nymphcca alba) . . .
White Spiderwort ( Anthericum album) . .
Tongue-leafed Mesembryantliemum (M. lin-
guiforme) .
Bearded Mesembryanthemum (M. barbatum)
Dandelion ( Leontodon Taraxacum) . . .
Yellow Goat’s Beard ( Tragopogon luteum)
Field Marigold (Calendula arvcnsis) . . .
Single flowered Hawkweed (Hieracium Pilo-
sella) .
Red Pink {Dianthus prolifer) .
Red Sandwort ( Arenaria rubra) ....
Ice Plant ( Mesembryanthemum crystallinum)
Common Base Hawkweed ( Crepis tectorum)
Alpine Base Hawkweed ( Crepis alpina)
Field Sowthistle ( Sonchus agrestis) . . .
Red Pink (Dianthus prolifer) .
Red Base Hawkweed (Crepis rubra) . .
Bearded Mesembryanthemum (M. barbatum)
Single-flowered Hawkweed (Hieracium Pilo-
sella) .
Red Sandwort (Arenaria rubra) ....
Field Marigold (Calendula arvensis) . . .
Tongue-leafed Mesembryanthemum ( M. lin-
guiforme) .
Red Hawkweed (Hieracium rubrum) . .
Ice Plant (11 /esembryanthemum crystallinum)
White Spiderwort (Anthericum album) . .
Meadow Goshmore (Hypochceris pratensis)
White Water Lily (Nymphcea alba) . . .
Nalced-staJked Poppy (Papaver nudicaule)
j Orange Day-lily (Hemerocallis fulva) . .
3
4
5
5
5
6
5
5—6
6
7
7
7-8
8
9
9
9
10
10
8—9
9
11
11
12
1
1
2
2
3
3
358
DIAL OF FLOWERS.
It is, of course, impossible to ensure the
accurate going of such a dial, because the tem¬
perature, the dryness, and the dampness of the
air, have a considerable influence on the open -
ing and shutting of flowers.
359
INDEX.
Acacia, 151.
-, rose, 264.
Acanthus, 94.
Achillea millefolia, 300.
Adonis, Flos, 140.
Agrimony, 297 .
Almond-tree, 33.
Aloe, 228.
Amaranth, 220, 275.
Amaryllis, 286.
Anemone, 269 .
-, field, 292 .
Angelica, 278 .
Angrec, 291 .
Apple blossom, 285.
Ash-tree, 272 .
Asphodel, 283.
Aster, China, 181, 255.
Autumn, 173.
Balm of Gilead, 262 .
-gentle, 279 .
Balsam, 275 .
Barberry, 293 .
Basil, 272 .
Beech, 288.
Bilberry, 298.
Bladder-nut, 270.
Borage, 259 .
Box-tree, 294 .
Bramble, 265.
Broom, 101, 256.
Buck-bean, 93.
Bugloss, 74.
Bulrush, 276.
Burdock, 276 .
Buttercup, 278 .
Cactus, Virginia, 274.
Calendar of Flowers, 317.
Canterbury Bell, 261 .
Catchfly, 293.
Champignon, 295.
Cherry-tree, 271 .
Chesnut-tree, 264.
Chicory, 269 .
Cinquefoil, 258.
Circaea, 294.
Clematis, 256.
Clot Bur, 291 .
Clove-tree, 263.
Columbine, 268 .
Convolvulus, night, 284.
Coriander, 273 .
Corn, 165.
Corn-bottle, 265.
*
360
INDEX.
Cornel Cherry-tree, 239.
Cowslip, American, 302.
Cress, 291 .
Crown Imperial, 235.
Cuscuta, 281.
Cypress, 210.
Daffodil, 55.
Daisy, 43.
-, garden, 275 .
-, wild, 275 .
Dandelion, 158.
Day Lily, yellow, 169 .
Dial of Flowers, 351.
Dictionary of Flowers, with
their emhlematic signi¬
fications, 305.
-,theLanguage
of Flowers, 255.
Dittany, 260 .
Dock, patience, 284.
Dodder, 281.
Ebony-tree, 258.
Eglantine, 285.
Forget-Me-Not, 177-
Fraxinella, 267 .
Fuller’s Teasel, 282.
Geraniumpencilledleaf,277.
-, rose-scented, 286.
-, scarlet, 204.
-, sorrowful, 281.
Grass, 300.
Hawthorn, 59.
Hazel, 249.
Heart’s-ease, 48.
Heath, 83.
Helenium, 297-
Heliotrope, Peruvian, 186.
Hepatica, 261 .
Holly, 243.
Hollyhock, 194.
Honeysuckle, 99-
Hop, 278 .
Hornbeam, 284.
Horse-chesnut, 69
Hortensia, 301.
Hyacinth, 270 .
Fennel, 295 .
Fig, 280.
Fir-tree, 264.
Flax, 274.
Flower-de-Luce, 267 .
Flowers, Calendar of, 317.
-, Dial of, 351.
-, Dictionary of, with
Ice-plant, 303.
Introduction, 1
Ipoimea, 274 .
Iris, 282.
Ivy, 230.
Jasmine, 126 .
-, Carolina, 155.
their emblematic signi- -, Indian, 274.
fications, 305. Jonquil, 2o5.
-, Dictionary of the Juniper, 252.
Language of, 255.
Flower-writing,illustration Language of Flowers, Djc-
of, 254. tionary of, 255,
INDEX.
361
Larch, 259.
Larkspur, 280.
Laurel, 241.
Laurustinus, 238.
Lavender, 282.
Leaves, Dead, 226.
Lilac, 71 •
-, white, 304.
Lily, 141.
Lily of the Valley, 77-
Linden-tree, 86.
Liverwort, 261 .
London Pride, 269 .
Lotus, 264.
Lucern, 93.
Madder, 260.
Maiden Hair, 197 •
Mallow, 138.
Manchineel-tree, 266.
Mandrake, 288.
Maple, 289.
Marigold, 147.
--, prophetic, 285.
-, and Cypress,
263.
Marvel of Peru, 213.
Meadow Saffron, 198.
Meadowsweet, 300.
Mezereon, 30.
Mignionette, 150.
Milkwort, 273 .
Mistletoe, 232.
Moonwort, 268 .
Moss, 235.
Mulberry-tree, black, 274.
, white, 301
Narcissus, 55.
Nettle. 2 O 1 .
Nightshade, bitter-sweet,
299-
--.Enchanter’s ,294
Nosegay, 270 .
Oak, 216 .
Olive, 284.
Ophrys, spider, 293.
Orange-flower, 260 .
-tree, 271 .
Musk-plant, 301.
Myrobolau, 287.
Myrtle, 96 .
Orchis, bee, 265 .
Parsley, 223.
Passion Flower, 265.
Peppermint, 300.
Periwinkle, 81.
Pineapple, 302.
Pink, 130.
- , yellow, 263.
Plane-tree, 271 .
Plum-tree, 279 .
- , wild, 276 .
Poplar, black, 261 .
-, white, 298.
Poppy, 161 , 293.
- , wild, 261 .
Potato, 258.
Primrose, 31.
--, large-flowered
Evening, 275 .
Privet, 80.
Quince, 297 •
Ranunculus, 303.
Reeds, 283.
Rose, 106 .
- , Hundred-leaved, 271 .
362
INDEX.
Rose, Monthly, 257.
--, Musk, 257.
- , single, 292.
-—— , white, 292.
-, withered, 257.
- , yellow, 277 .
Rosebud, 271 .
-, white, 273.
Rosemary, 301.
Rue, wild, 283.
Rush, 26 l.
Saffron, 258.
Sage, 265.
Sainfoin, shaking, 256.
St. John’s wort, 123.
Sardonia, 278 .
Sensitive Plant, 170 .
Snapdragon, 286.
Snowdrop, 28.
Sorrel, wood, 279 .
Speedwell, 266.
Spindle-tree, 303.
Spring, 27 .
Star of Bethlehem, 288.
Stock, 143.
-, Ten-week, 287.
Stonecrop, 298 .
Straw, broken, 177 , 292 .
- , whole, 1 77, 300.
Strawberry, 11 9 .
Summer, 104.
Sunflower, 189-
Swcet Sultan, 272 .
Sweet William, 267 .
Sycamore, 262.
Syringa, 282.
Tansey, wild, 274 .
Tendrils of climbing plants,
298 .
Thistle, 295.
Thorn-apple, 153.
Thrift, 296 .
Thyme, 91.
Tremella Nostoc, 290 .
Truffle, 295.
Tuberose, 184.
Tulip, 63.
Tussilage, Sweet-scented,
202 .
Valerian, 124, 255.
-, Greek, 291.
Venus’s Looking-glass, 20
Veronica, 266.
Vervain, 135.
Vine, 278.
Violet, 40.
-, white, 260 .
Wallflower, 51.
Walnut, 294 .
Whortleberry, 298 .
Willow, weeping, 36 ,
Winter, 225.
Wormwood, 255.
Yew, 246.
T. C. Savill, Printer, 107 , St. Martin’s Lane