The Project Gutenberg eBook of The language of flowers, by Henrietta Dumont.

A

TOKEN OF AFFECTION AND ESTEEM;

COMPRISING

WITH COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS, FROM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS.

————
By HENRIETTA DUMONT.
————

PHILADELPHIA:
H. C. PECK & THEO. BLISS.
1851.
{6}

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by
H. C. PECK & THEO. BLISS,
in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of
Pennsylvania.

Preface.

Why has the beneficent Creator scattered over the face of the earth such a profusion of beautiful flowers—flowers by the thousand and million, in every land—from the tiny snowdrop that gladdens the chill spring of the north, to the gorgeous magnolia that flaunts in the sultry regions of the tropics? Why is it that every landscape has its appropriate flowers, every nation its national flowers, every rural home its home flowers? Why do flowers enter and shed their perfume over every scene of life, from the cradle to the grave? Why are flowers made to utter all voices of joy and sorrow in all varying scenes, from the chaplet that adorns the bride to the votive wreath that blooms over the tomb?

It is for no other reason than that flowers have in themselves a real and natural significance. They have a positive relation to man, his sentiments, passions, and feelings. They correspond to actual emotions. They have their mission—a mission of love and mercy. They have their language, and from the remotest ages this language has found its interpreters.

In the East the language of flowers has been universally understood and applied “time out of mind.” Its meaning finds a place in their poetry and in all their literature, and it is familiarly known among the people. In Europe it has existed and been recognised for long ages among the people, although scarcely noticed by the literati until a comparatively recent period. Shakspeare, however, whom nothing escaped which was known to the people, exhibits his intimate acquaintance with the language of flowers in his masterly delineation of the madness of Ophelia.

Recent writers in all languages recognise the beauty and propriety of this language to such an extent, that an acquaintance with it has now {7}become indispensable as a part of a polished education.

Our little volume is devoted to the explanation of this beautiful language. We have made it as complete as our materials and limits would permit. We present it to our readers in the humble hope that we shall increase the means of elegant and innocent enjoyment by our “Floral {9}{8}Offering.”

Contents.

The Floral Offering.

This shrub, clothed in its showy garb, appears amidst the snow, like an imprudent and coquettish female, who, though shivering with cold, wears her spring attire in the depth of winter. The stalk of this shrub is covered with a dry bark, which gives it the appearance of dead wood. Nature, to hide this deformity, has encircled each of its sprays with a wreath of red flowers, terminating in a tuft of leaves. These flowers give out a peculiar and offensive smell.

Snowdrop. ... Hope.

The Snowdrop is looked upon as the herald of the approach of flower-wreathed Spring. The north winds howl; the naked branches of the trees are white with frost; the earth is carpeted with the virgin snow; the feathered musicians are silent; and stern Winter’s icy hand chills the rivulet till it ceases to murmur. At this season, a tender flower springs up amid the snow, expands its blossoms, and leads thought to the verdant hours to come. This beautiful sign of awakening Nature may aptly be considered as the emblem of Hope.

Primrose. ... Early Grief.

The Primrose is one of the earliest flowers of spring. It 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 been a favourite of the poets.

Almond Blossom. ... Indiscretion.

The Almond tree is the first of the trees to put forth its blossoms, when spring breathes the breath of life through nature. It has been made the emblem of indiscretion, from flowering so early that frosts too often give a death-chill to the precocious germs of its fruit. In ancient times, the abundance of blossoms upon the Almond tree was considered to promise a fruitful season. The following is the fabulous account of the origin of this tree:—Demophoon, son of Theseus and Phædra, in returning from the siege of Troy, was thrown by 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 his father’s death, Demophoon promised to return in a month, and fixed the day. The loving Phyllis counted the hours of his absence, and, at last, the appointed day arrived. Nine times she repaired to the shore; but, losing all hope of his return, she died of grief, and was converted into an Almond tree. Soon afterwards, Demophoon returned. Overwhelmed with sorrow, he offered a sacrifice at the sea-side, to appease the manes of his bride. The Almond tree instantly put forth its blossoms, and seemed to sympathize with his repentance.

Crocus. ... Youth.

The Crocus is one of the earliest of the spring flowers, and, therefore, a fit emblem of the spring of life. It is a small flower, of variegated hues; the principal being purple, yellow, and white. The Crocus Vernus, or Spring Crocus, is a wild flower now in various parts of England, though not considered to be really a native of the country. We learn from the favourite writers, Mr. and Mrs. Howitt, that they are plentiful about Nottingham, “gleaming at a distance like a perfect flood of lilac, and tempting very many little hearts, and many graver ones too, to go out and gather.”

Ice-Plant.... Frigidity.

Cactus.... Ardent Love.

The flower of the Cactus is chosen to signify ardent love, because of the glowing hues of the flower itself, and the heat of the climate in which the plant grows to the greatest size. The gorgeousness of the flower of the Cactus needs no eulogy. No fitter emblem could have been selected to represent the passion of love in its full flame.

Aloe.... Grief.

The Aloe is attached to the soil by very feeble roots; it delights to grow in the wilderness, and its taste is extremely bitter. Thus grief separates us from earthly things, and fills the heart with bitterness. These {29}magnificent and monstrous plants are found in barbarous Africa: they grow upon rocks, in dry sand under a burning atmosphere. Some have leaves six feet long, and armed with long spires. From the centre of these leaves shoots up a slender stem covered with flowers.

Wormwood. ... Absence.

Wormwood is the bitterest of plants; and absence, according to La Fontaine, is the worst of evils. Those in whose anxious breasts the “flame divine” is burning, will agree with the French author in his assertion. To be absent from one we love is to carry a vacant chamber in the heart, which naught else can fill.

Violet.... Modest Worth.

The Violet has always been a favourite theme of admiration among visitors of Parnassus. Its quiet beauty and love of retired spots have ever made it the emblem of true worth that shrinks from parade. It is one of the first children of spring, and awakens pleasing emotions in the breast of the lover of the beautiful, as he strolls through the meadows in the season of joy. Ion, the Greek name of this flower, is traced by some etymologists to Ia, the daughter of Midas, who was be{32}trothed to Atys, and changed by Diana into a Violet, to hide her from Apollo.

Shakspeare regarded the Violet as the emblem of constancy, as the following occurs in one of his sonnets:—

Lavender.... Distrust.

It was anciently believed that the asp, a dangerous species of viper, made Lavender its habitual place of abode, for which reason that plant was approached with extreme caution. The Romans used it largely in their baths, from whence its name is derived.

Pansy.... Think of me.

The Pansy, or Heart’s-ease, is a beautiful variety of the Violet, differing from it in the diversity of its colours. In fragrance it is inferior to the Violet. Pansy is an old English corruption of the French Pensée.

Daisy.... Innocence.

and succeeding poets have generally used it as the image of that pure quality. Fable informs us that the Daisy owes its origin to Belides, one of the Dryads, who were supposed to preside over meadows and pastures. While dancing on the turf with Ephigeus, whose suit she encouraged, she attracted the admiration of Vertumnus, the deity who presided over orchards; and, to escape from him, she was transformed into the humble flower, the Latin name of which is Bellis. The ancient English name of the flower was Day’s Eye, of which Daisy is a corruption. In Ossian’s poems, the Daisy is called the flower of the new-born—most expressive of innocence.

Periwinkle.... Tender Recollections.

In France, the Periwinkle has been adopted as the emblem of the pleasures of memory and sincere friendship, probably in allusion to Rousseau’s recollection of his friend, Madame de Warens, occasioned, after a lapse of thirty years, by the sight of this flower, which they together had admired. This plant is deeply rooted in the soil which it adorns. It throws out its shoots on all sides to clasp the earth, and covers it with flowers, which reflect the hue of heaven. Thus our first affections, warm, pure, and artless, seem to be of heavenly origin.

Sweet-Brier, or Eglantine.... Poetry.

The Eglantine is the poet’s flower. In the floral games, it was the prize for the best composition on the charms of study and eloquence. Though its flowers are most beautiful in hue, their fragrance is their more valuable quality. In like manner, the charms of poetry and eloquence should be considered superior to those of appearance.

Lilac.... First Emotions of Love.

The freshness of the verdure of the Lilac; the flexibility of its branches; the profusion of its flowers; their transitory beauty and their soft hues,—all remind us of those emotions which embellish beauty, and throw such a light around our youthful hours. It is said that Van Spaendonc himself threw down his pencil on viewing a group of Lilacs. Nature seems to have delighted in creating its delicate clusters, which astonish by their beauty and variety. The fragrance of the flowers is even more gratifying than their beauty.

Tulip.... Declaration of Love.

The Tulip is an extraordinary favourite in many parts of Europe and Asia; and, in Holland and Turkey, the most extravagant prices are paid for fine specimens. On account of the elegance of its form, the beauty of its colours, and its want of fragrance and other useful qualities, this flower has been considered as an appropriate symbol of a female who possesses no recommendation but a beautiful appearance. In the East, the Tulip is employed as the emblem by which a lover makes known his passion to his mistress; as the Tulip expresses the idea that he has a face all fire and a heart all coal.

Cypress.... Mourning.

The ancients consecrated the Cypress to the Fates, the Furies and Pluto. They placed it near tombs. The people of the East retain the same custom in the decoration of their cemeteries. The Turks plant the Cypress at the head and at the foot of the graves. 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 be made perpetual, and was changed into a Cypress tree, the branches of which were thenceforward used at funerals.

Wall-Flower.... Fidelity in Adversity.

This flower derives its name from the circumstance of its growing upon old walls, the casements and battlements of ancient castles, and among the ruins of abbeys. The troubadors were accustomed to wearing a bouquet of Wall-flowers, as the emblem of an affection which is proof against time and the frowns of fortune.

Hawthorn.... Hope.

Various significations have been given to the Hawthorn. Among the Turks, a branch of it expresses the wish of a lover to receive a kiss from the object of his affection. Among the ancient Greeks, the Hawthorn was a symbol of conjugal union; its blossomed boughs were carried about at their wedding festivities, and the newly-married couple were even lighted to their bridal chamber with torches made of its wood. In England, the Hawthorn is used in the sports of May-days, and is, therefore, frequently called May. There is a{53} proverb among the rural inhabitants of that country, that a “store of haws portend cold winters.” Though the Hawthorn is quoted as the emblem of Hope, it must be considered more particularly as the lover’s hope.

Love-lies-bleeding.... Deserted Love.

This beautiful emblem of love, wounded and bereaved by fate, is a species of Amaranthus. The flower is of a reddish-purple hue, which circumstance suggests its name.

Myrtle.... Love.

The Myrtle has ever been consecrated to Venus. At Rome, the temple of the goddess was surrounded by a grove of Myrtles; and in Greece, she was adorned under the name of Myrtilla. It was observed by the ancients, that, wherever the Myrtle grew, it excluded all other plants. So love, wherever it is permitted to grow, excludes all other feelings. The ladies of modern Rome retain a strong affection for this plant, preferring its odour to that of the most fragrant essences.

Lily of the Valley.... Modesty.

The beautiful Lily of the Valley is the fit emblem of the union of beauty, simplicity, and love of retirement. It adds an indescribable charm to the spots where it blooms. Its snowy hues and general delicacy of appearance excite emotions of a kindred nature to those we experience in the company of one whose heart is free from guile, and whose manners are gentle and unpretending.

Hyacinth.... Constancy.

The blue Hyacinth is mentioned by several English writers as the emblem of constancy. There are many varieties found in Europe and America, but the variety known in Scotland as the “Blue Bell” is the most common and the most celebrated.

Orchis.... A Belle.

The Butterfly Orchis is rather rare except where there is a chalky soil. The Spider Orchis has gained its name from the great resemblance it bears to one of those large, fat-bodied garden spiders, which are often noticed for the singular beauty of the markings on their backs. Another is so very like a fly, that it is named the Fly Orchis; another is like a lizard, or some strange reptile, and the flowers being yellow, green, and purple, and twisted in and about one another in a very odd way, it really looks like some horrible group of queer living creatures. One, from being fancied like a man, is called Man Orchis; another, very gayly spotted, and ornamented with a helmet-like{62} appendage, is the Military Orchis; another is called Bee Orchis. Bishop Mant thus alludes to some of these:

Box.... Stoicism.

The common Box, of which our hedge is formed, is indigenous in England, preferring the chalky hills of Surrey and Kent for its residence, but flourishing well on other soils. It is one of the most useful evergreen shrubs we possess, and especially as it will grow under the drip and shadow of other trees, as you know is the case with our hedge. It is found in most European countries, from Britain southwards, also about Mount Caucasus, Persia, China, Cochin China, and America. It was formerly much more common in England than now, having disappeared under the spread of agriculture. Box-hill, in Surrey, is named from this tree, and is a conical elevation covered with a wood of Box-trees, some of large size. Boxley in Kent, and Boxwell in Gloucestershire, are also named from it. The leaf and general appearance of the tree are too familiar to require any description. The scent of the spring blossoms is rather powerful, and to some persons unpleasant. The timber is very valuable, it is sold by weight, and, being very hard and smooth, and not apt to warp, is well adapted for many nice and delicate purposes. In the days of good old Evelyn, it appears to have been as much used as at present, for he says, “It is good for the turner, engraver, carver, mathematical instrument maker, comb and pipe, or flute-maker, and the roots for the inlayer and cabinet-maker. Of box are made wheels, sheaves, pins, pegs for musical instruments, nut-crackers, button-moulds, weavers’ shuttles, hollar-sticks, bump-sticks, and dressers for the shoe{64}maker, rulers, rolling-pins, pestles, mall-balls, beetles, tops, chessmen, tables, screws, bobbins for bone-lace, spoons, knife-handles, but especially combs.” Most of those engravings in books, called wood-cuts, are done upon Box wood, and for that purpose English Box is superior to any other, though a great portion of what is used in this country comes from the Levant. The ancients used combs made of Box-wood, and also instruments to be played on with the mouth. The Romans used to adorn their gardens with it, clipped into form, as we find from mention being made of clipped Box-trees by their writers. It was formerly much cut in this manner here, and was ranked next to the Yew for its capabilities of taking artificial and grotesque forms; but except a few ancient hedges of Box, like our own, and those at Castle Bromwich Hall, where the Yew hedges are also preserved, there are not many vestiges of its former garden-glory remaining. A dwarf kind is used for making a neat and firm edging to flower borders, for which nothing answers so well, or produces so proper an effect.

Narcissus and Daffodil.... Self-Love.

There are several species of the Narcissus. The Yellow Narcissus is better known as the Daffodil, and bears much resemblance to the Yellow Lily. The Poetic Narcissus is the largest of the species, and may be distinguished by the crimson border of the very shallow and almost flat cup of the nectary. Shakspeare, in his Winter’s Tale, speaks of

The ancients attributed the origin of the Narcissus to the metamorphosis of a beautiful youth of that name, 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.

Lily.... Majesty.

The Lily’s height and beauty speak command. The Jews imitated its form in the decorations of their first magnificent temple; and Christ described it as more splendid than King Solomon in his most gorgeous apparel. According to ancient mythology, there was originally but one species of Lily, and that was orange-coloured; and the white was produced by the following circumstance:—Jupiter, wishing to render Hercules immortal, prevailed on Juno to take a deep draught of nectar, which threw the queen into a profound sleep. Jupiter then placed the infant Hercules at her breast, so that the divine milk might ensure immortality. Hercules drew the milk faster than he could swallow it, and some drops fell to the earth, from which immediately sprang the White Lily.

Moss Rose.... Confession of Love.

The origin of this exquisitely beautiful variety of the Rose is thus fancifully accounted for:—

White Water-Lily.... Purity.

The White Water-Lily is the Queen of the Waves, and reigns sole sovereign over the streams; and it was a species of Water-Lily which the old Egyptians and ancient Indians worshipped—the most beautiful object that was held sacred in their superstitious creed, and one which we cannot look upon even now without feeling a delight mingled with reverence. No flower looks more lovely than this “Lady of the Lake,” resting her crowned head on a green throne of velvet, and looking down into the depths of her own sky-reflecting realms, watching the dance, as her attendant water-nymphs keep time to the rocking of the ripples, and the dreamy swaying of the trailing water streams.

Marigold.... Grief.

The Marigold is the 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, or of all the months. Its flowers are open only from nine in the morning till three in the afternoon. They always follow the course of the sun, by turning from east to west as he proceeds upon his daily journey. In July and August these flowers emit, during the night, small luminous sparks. Alone, the Marigold expresses grief; interwoven with other flowers, the varied events of life; the cloud and sunshine of ill and good.

White Rose.... I would be single.

The White Rose became celebrated in English history as the badge of the house of York, in the War of the Roses. Among the ancients, who considered the Rose as the queen of flowers, it was the custom to crown new-married persons with a chaplet of Red and White Roses; and in the procession of the Corybantes, the goddess Cybele, the protectress of cities, was pelted with White Roses.

Yellow Rose.... Jealousy.

Pfeffel, a German poet, has pleasingly accounted for the origin of the Yellow Rose, the emblem of envy and jealousy, in the following manner:

Red Rose.... Beauty and Love.

According to ancient fable, the 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,

Miller, the “basket-maker” and poet, gives the following beautiful account of the origin of the Red Rose:—

It was drawing toward the decline of a beautiful summer day, when the red, round sun was bending down a deep, blue, unclouded sky, to where a vast range of mountains stretched, summit upon summit, and in the far distance again rose, pile upon pile, until high over all towered the god-haunted height of cloud-capt Olympus, rising with its rounded shoulder, like another world, on the uttermost rim of the horizon. At the foot of this immense world of untrodden mountains, opened out a wide, immeasurable forest, stretching far away, league upon league, with its unexplored ocean of trees, which were bounded somewhere by another range of unknown mountains, that again overlooked a vast, silent, and unpeopled world. On the edge of this pathless desert of trees, and nearest{78} the foot of Olympus, sat the Queen of Beauty and of Love; with her golden tresses unbound, and her matchless countenance buried within the palms of her milk-white hands, and sobbing as if her fond, immortal heart would break. Beside her was laid the dead body of Adonis, his face half-hidden beneath the floating fall of her hair, as she bent over him and wept. Beyond them lay the stiffened bulk of the grim and grisly boar, his hideous jaws flecked with blood and foam, and his terrible tusks glittering like the heads of pointed spears, as they stood out, sharp and white, in the unclouded sunset. Not an immortal comforter was by: for the far-seeing eye of Jove was fixed listlessly upon the golden nectar-cup, as it passed from hand to hand, along the rounded circle of the gods, while they were recounting the deeds of other days, when they waged war against the Titans. Even the chariot of Venus stood unyoked at the foot of the mount; the silken traces lay loosely thrown together upon the ground, and the white doves were idly hovering round in the air; for the weeping goddess was so overwhelmed with sorrow, that she had forgotten to waft her light-winged whisper to the Mount of Olympus; nor had they received any summons from the charioteer Love, who lay sleeping upon a bed of Roses, with his bow and arrows by his side.

In the glade of this vast forest of the old primeval world, whose echoes had never been startled by the blows of a descending axe, nor a branch rent from their majestic boles, saving by the dreaded bolts of the Thunderer, or some earth-shaking storm, which, in his anger, he had blown abroad, the Goddess of Beauty{79} still continued to sit, as if unconscious of the savage solitude which surrounded her; nor did she notice the back-kneed Satyrs, that peered upon her unrobed loveliness with burning eyes, from many a shadowy recess in the thick-leaved underwood. Upon the trunks of the mighty and storm-tortured trees, the sunset here and there flashed down in rays of molten gold, making their gnarled and twisted stems look as if they had just issued red-hot from the jaws of some cavern-like furnace, whose glare the fancy might still trace in a blackened avenue of trees, up which the red ranks of the consuming lightning had ages agone marched. Every way, where the lengthened shadows of evening began to fall in deeper masses, the forest assumed a more savage look, which was heightened by the noise of some deadly-tusked boar, as he went snorting and thundering through the thicket; the growl of the tiger was also heard at intervals, as he retreated farther into the deepening darkness of the dingles, mistaking the blazing sunset for some devouring fire. But the eyes of Venus saw only the pale face of her lover,—she felt only his chilly and stiffened hand sink colder and deeper into the warm heart on which she pressed it, and over which her tears fell, slower or faster, just as the mournful gusts of her sorrow arose or subsided, and sent the blinding rain from the blue-veined lids that overhung her clouded eyes; for never had her immortal heart before been swollen by such an overflowing torrent of grief. But the warmth of her kisses, which would almost have awakened life in a statue of marble, fell upon lips now cold as a wintry grave; and her sighs, which came sweeter than the morning{80} air when it first arises from its sleep among the Roses, stirred not one of the clotted ringlets which softened into the yielding whiteness of her heavenly bosom,—

“She looked upon his lips, and they are pale;
She took him by the hand, and that was cold;
She whispered in his ear a heavy tale,
As if they heard the woful words she told.”

She would have given her immortality but to have heard those lips murmur and complain, as they had done a few hours before—to have seen those eyes again burning with disdain, as they flashed back indignantly the warm advances of her love. She pictured him as he had that very morning stood, in all the pride of youthful manliness and beauty, when he looked down, blushing and abashed, as he held his boar-spear in his hand, when she threw the studded bridle over her own rounded and naked arm, and the proud courser pricked up his ears with delight, and shook his braided mane, while his long tail streamed out like a banner, and his proud eye dilated, and his broad nostrils expanded, as he went trampling haughtily on, proud to be led by the Queen of Beauty and of Love. She pictured the Primrose bank on which he lay twined reluctantly in her arms, how he tried to conceal his face, this way, and that way, among the flowers, whenever she attempted to press his lips,—

“While on each cheek appeared a pretty dimple:
Love made those hollows, if himself were slain,
He might be buried in a tomb so simple.”
{81}

She recalled his attitude as he untwined himself from her embrace, and hurried off in pursuit of his steed, which had snapped the rein that secured it to the branch of a neighbouring oak, and started at full speed down one of the wild avenues of the forest. In fancy she again saw him, as he sat panting upon the ground, weary with the fruitless pursuit; and how, kneeling down, she then

“Took him gently by the hand,
A lily prisoned in a jail of snow,
Or ivory in an alabaster band:
So white a friend engirt so white a foe;
A beauteous combat, wilful and unwilling,
Showed like two silver doves that sat a-billing.”

And as she looked upon him, she imagined that his lips moved again, as when they said, “Give me my hand, why dost thou feel it?” she fancied she again felt his face upon her cheek—his kisses upon her lips, as when she fell down and feigned herself dead; the while he bent her fingers, and felt her pulse, and endeavoured by a hundred endearments and tender expressions, to restore her. And how, when she pretended to recover, she paid him back again with unnumbered kisses, whilst he, wearied with opposing her, no longer offered any resistance; and how, at last, he broke from her fair arms, and, darting down the “dark lawn,” left her seated alone upon the ground.

As picture after picture rose before her of what had been, and every close pressure of the cold, inanimate, but still dearly-loved form, told her what the hand of{82} death had done, and that those very “hopes and fears which are akin to love” were now for ever darkened and extinguished; she burst forth into such a loud, wailing lamentation, that the sound found its way unto Olympus, and fell upon the ever-open ear of Jove, who, in a moment, dashed the golden nectar-cup upon the ground, which he was about uplifting to his lips, and sprang upon his feet. There was a sound of hurrying to and fro over the mountain-summits, which sloped down to the edge of the forest—of gods and goddesses passing through the air—of golden chariots, that went whistling along like the wind, as they cleft their rapid way—and the flapping of dark, immortal wings, between which many a beautiful divinity was seated. The golden clouds of sunset gathered red and ominously about the rounded summit of Olympus, and a blood-red light glared upon such parts of the forest as were not darkened by the deepening shadows of the approaching twilight,—for the Thunderer had stamped his immortal foot, and jarred the mighty mountain to its very base. And now, in that forest glade, which but a few moments before was so wild and desolate,—where only the forms of the grisly boar, the dead Adonis, and the weeping Goddess of Beauty broke the level lines of the angry sunset, were assembled the stern Gods, and the weeping Graces, and the fluttering Loves that ever hover around the chariot of Venus. With bleeding feet and drooping head,—wan, and cold, and speechless,—was the Goddess of Beauty lifted into her golden chariot, and, with the dead body of Adonis, wafted by her silver and silent-winged doves to Mount Olympus. And then a deep darkness settled down{83} upon the forest. When the next morning’s sun arose and gilded those silent glades, the Roses, on which the blood of the Goddess of Beauty had fallen, and which were ever before white, were changed into a delicate crimson; and wherever a tear had fallen, there had sprung up a flower which the earth had never before borne, and that was the Lily of the Valley; and wherever a ruddy drop had fallen from the death-wound of Adonis sprang up the red flower which still beareth his name. Even the white apple-blossoms, which he clutched in his agony, ever after wore the ruddy stain which they caught from his folded fingers; and the drowsy Poppy grew up everywhere around the spot, as if to denote that the only consolation which can be found for sorrow is the long, unbroken sleep of death. Thus the Rose, which was before white, became red, and was ever after dedicated to Beauty and Love.

The poets have not exaggerated the beauty of the red-hued Rose. She would be crowned Queen of the{84} Flowers by the most unpoetical. The emblem of all ages, the interpreter of all our feelings, the Rose mingles with our festivities, our joys, and our griefs. Its fragrance is as delightful as its hues; and no truer emblem of love and beauty could have been chosen.

Peony.... Anger.

The Peony is chosen as the emblem of Anger from its red and fiery hues. It is a large double flower, and presents a superb appearance; but is almost destitute of scent.

Nettles.... Cruelty.

Nettles may be considered the appropriate emblem of cruelty. How often, while in search of flowers, have we felt the sting of these unrelenting plants! We call that punishment cruel which visits us without our doing an injury which deserves it; and, as we never wished to be in the vicinity of the Nettles, nor, therefore, to injure them, our boyish fancy looked upon them as cruel.

Columbine.... Desertion.

Passion Flower.... Faith.

In the Passion Flower, we find a representation of the crown of thorns, the scourge, the cross, the sponge, the nails, and the five wounds of Christ. Hence its name and signification.

Pink.... Pure Love.

The primitive Pink is simple red or white, and scented; but cultivation has varied the colour from the darkest purple to the purest white. Under all its diversities, however, it retains its delicious, spicy fragrance, and hence has been made the emblem of woman’s love, which no circumstance can change. Florists designate two principal divisions of these flowers, Pinks and Carnation. The former are marked by a spot resembling an eye, and by a more humble growth. The flower of the Carnation is much larger than that of the Pink, and of a deeper hue. The Carnation was called by some of the old English writers the clove-gilly flower, from its perfume resembling that of cloves.

Sensitive Plant.... Chastity.

This singular plant is so named from its motions imitating the sensibility of animal life. It contracts itself in the evening and expands with the morning light, and shrinks from external violence, folding up its leaves at the mere approach of one’s hand. The Violet is the emblem of that retiring modesty which proceeds from reflection, but the Sensitive Plant is a perfect image of innocence and virgin modesty, the result of instinct.

Thyme.... Activity.

Among the ancient Greeks, Thyme denoted the graceful elegance of the Attic style; because it covered Mount Hymettus, and gave an aromatic flavour to the honey made there. Those writers who had mastered the Attic style were said “to smell of Thyme.” Flies of all shapes, beetles of all hues, bright butterflies, and vigilant bees for ever surround the flower tufts of Thyme, and they thus seem to teem with life. Activity is a warlike virtue, and is ever associated with true courage. On this notion, the ladies of the days of chivalry embroidered on the scarfs which they presented to their knights the figure of a bee hovering about a sprig of Thyme.

Hollyhock.... Ambition.

We have few flowers that contribute more to the ornamenting of large gardens than the Hollyhock, which, from its towering height and seeming love of display, is the emblem of ambition. The flowers are of all hues, from a blackish-purple to a faint white, and, though very beautiful, are without fragrance. They give gayety to the shrubbery until a late season of the year, throwing out a succession of flowers till the arrival of frost.

Laurel.... Glory.

Among the ancient Greeks and Romans, the Laurel was consecrated to every species of glory. The beautiful shrub grows abundantly at Delphi, on the banks 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, Daphne was the daughter of the river Peneus. Apollo fell in love with her, but 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 he clasped an insensible tree in his arms, kissed its bright leaves. “Since thou canst not be my spouse,” said he, “thou shalt, at least, be my tree.” Thence-forward the Laurel was sacred to Apollo.

Amaranth.... Immortality.

The Amaranth is unfading; and it has, therefore, been made the emblem of immortality. In Homer’s time, it was customary to wear crowns of Amaranth at the funerals of distinguished personages. Milton, in his Lycidas, classes it among the flowers that “sad embroidery wear.” In the floral games at Toulouse, the principal prize was a golden Amaranth for the best lyric composition. The Amaranthus hypochondriacus, one of the American species, is better known by the name of Prince’s Feather.

Strawberry.... Perfection.

An eminent French author conceived the plan of writing a general history of nature, after the model of the ancients. A Strawberry plant, which, perchance, grew under his window, deterred him from this bold design. He examined the Strawberry, and, in so doing, discovered so many wonders, that he felt convinced the study of a single plant was sufficient to occupy a whole lifetime. He therefore gave up the pompous title which he had meditated for his work, and contented himself with calling it “Studies of Nature.” The flowers of the Strawberry form pretty bouquets; but, as the delicious fruit is preferred to the flower, they are seldom plucked for that purpose. Among the glaciers of the Alps, the plants and flowers of the Strawberry are found in all seasons of the year. The plant seems to possess all the merits of plants, in their greatest perfection. The berries are the favourite accompaniment of the lordly feast and the most exquisite luxury of the rural repast. They vie in freshness and perfume with the buds of the sweetest flowers; delighting the eye, the taste, and smell, at the same time.

Sunflower.... False Riches.

The Sunflower has been thus named from the resemblance which its broad golden disk and rays bear to the sun. The first Spaniards who arrived in Peru were amazed at the profuse display of gold among the people, but they were still more astonished when, in May, they beheld whole fields covered with these flowers, which they concluded, at first sight, must be of the same precious metal. From this circumstance, and the observation that gold, however abundant, cannot render a person truly rich, the Sunflower has been made the emblem of false wealth. Many of the English poets have adopted the notion that this flower ever turns its face to the sun. Thomson, Moore, Darwin, and Barton make a very fine use of the idea. But it is not a fact. Those flowers which face the east at the opening of day, never turn to the west at the close of it.

Heliotrope.... Devoted Affection.

The Heliotrope is a native of Peru. It is often confounded with the Sunflower, though it is of a different genus. The blossoms of the Heliotrope form clusters of very small, delicate, fragrant flowers, generally of a faint purple colour or white, sometimes red, or bluish-white. It is a general favourite of the fair sex, and is considered as the emblem of devoted affection, on account of its face being ever turned to the sun, which it seems to worship. The Heliotrope was introduced into Europe in 1740, by the celebrated Jussieu.

Mignonette.... Your Qualities surpass your Charms.

The Mignonette was introduced into Europe from Egypt, in 1750. It flowers from the beginning of spring until the end of autumn. Linnæus, who gave it the name of Reseda odorata, compares its perfume with that of ambrosia.

Jasmine.... Amiability.

The Jasmine is a happy emblem of an amiable disposition. In all situations, it suffers the gardener to train its slender branches into any form he chooses: most commonly forming a living tapestry for arbours and garden walls, and everywhere throwing out a profusion of delicate and charming flowers, which perfume the air. The poets have showered their praise upon this plant, and all unite in considering it the emblem of the winsome quality of amiability. After paying a glowing tribute to the beauty and sweetness of the Violet, Thomas Miller, the “basket-maker” poet, thus speaks of the Jasmine:{110}—

Stepping further into summer, comes the star-white Jasmine,—that sweet perfumer of the night, which only throws out its full fragrance when its sister stars are keeping watch in the sky; as if, when the song of the nightingale no longer cheered the darkness, it sent forth its silent aroma upon the listening air. Many a happy home does it garland, and peeps in at many a forbidden lattice, where Love and Beauty repose. Little did the proud courtiers and stately dames of Queen Elizabeth’s day dream that this sweet-scented creeper (a sprig of which seemed to make the haughty haughtier still) would one day become so common as to cluster around and embower thousands of humble English cottages,—a degradation which, could they but have witnessed, would almost have made every plait of their starched ruffs bristle up, like “quills upon the fretful porcupine.” Beautiful are its long, drooping, dark-green shoots, trailing around the trellis-work of a door-way, like a green curtain embroidered with silver flowers; while here and there the queenly Moss-Rose, creeping in and out like the threads of a fanciful tapestry, its crimson face amid the embowered green,—a beautiful lady peeping through a leaf-clad casement.

Woodbine, or Honeysuckle.... Affection.

This elegant, climbing shrub at once delights the eye and gratifies the smell, by the exquisite fragrance of its blossoms; while it confers on those humble dwellings in the rural districts of England and America, a character of cheerfulness unknown in other countries. It begins to flower in May, and puts forth its blossoms until the end of summer. It is chosen as the emblem of affection, from its clinging to trees and lattices with all the ardour and constancy of a weak, confiding woman, clinging to one of the stronger, sterner sex, in prosperity and in adversity.

Cowslip.... Pensiveness.

The solitary Cowslip was known to the old English poets as the “sweet nun of the fields,” and has been immortalized in “Shakspeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.” In America, the Cowslip may be found from Maine to Missouri. Its hues are not gaudy, but winning; and the whole appearance of the flower, as it blooms in some solitary vale, or on some gentle slope, expresses the idea of pensive beauty.

Forget-me-not.

The name of this flower expresses clearly enough the meaning which is given to it. As a remembrancer it is universally received and eulogized. The name is derived from a German tradition, full of melancholy romance. It is related that a young couple, on the eve of being united, while walking along the banks of the Danube, saw a cluster of these flowers, floating on the stream, which was bearing 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 himself sinking; but, making a last effort, he threw it on the bank 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, Forget-me-not. Its corollas are of a soft cerulean-blue colour, and it presents an interesting appearance as it grows along the banks of the rivers. The Forget-me-not is found in great perfection on the banks of a small stream near Luxembourg, in France. The stream is called the Fairies’ Bath, and its banks are the favourite resort of festive parties.

Rosemary.... Remembrance.

The Rosemary is so often mentioned by our early writers, both in prose, poetry, and our oldest dramas, that a long article, possessing great interest to such as love old-fashioned things, might be written upon it. The Rosemary was used both at their feasts and their funerals,—the christening-cup was stirred with it, and it was worn at their marriage ceremonies. Shakspeare has chosen it for the emblem of Remembrance, and who would attempt to change the meaning of a flower which his genius has hallowed, or disturb a leaf over which he has breathed his holy “superstition?”—in memory of him we use the latter word in all reverence. A few years ago it was customary, in many parts of England, to plant slips of Rosemary over the dead; nor has the practice yet fallen altogether into disuse—rural cemeteries will revive these ancient customs. Shakspeare chose the Rosemary as the emblem of affectionate remembrance, for its flowering in winter,—a very poetic and touching allusion. The sweet maniac, Ophelia, says,

Anemone.... Forsaken.

Anemone was a nymph, beloved by Zephyr. Flora, jealous of her, banished her from her court and transformed her into a flower, that blows before the return of spring. Zephyr has abandoned this unhappy beauty to the rude caresses of Boreas, who, unable to gain her love, harshly shakes her, half opens her blossoms, and causes her immediately to fade. An Anemone, with these words, Brevis est usus—“Her reign is short”—is touchingly expressive of the transitory nature of beauty.

In spring the green woods of merry England are covered with the flowers of the Anemone. Turn the eye whichever way you will, there it greets you like “a pleasant thought;” it forms a bed of flowers around the foot of the mighty oak, and below the tangling brambles, which you may peep between, but cannot pass,—there, also, are its pearly blossoms bending. The Greeks named it the flower of the Wind, and so plentiful is it in our country that we might fancy the breeze had blown it everywhere. The gaudy Anemone of the garden, the emblem of forsaken love, is known to all; but our favourites are the uncultivated offspring of the windy woods, which come long before the broad green leaves hang overhead to shelter them.

Acacia.... Friendship.

The Acacia is a native of North America, from Canada to the Carolinas, and was consecrated by the Indians to the goddess of chaste love. Their bows were made of the incorruptible wood of this tree, and their arrows were pointed with its thorns. About a century ago, this tree was introduced into France by Robin, the botanist. It is a large, handsome tree, of quick growth, elegant foliage, and beautiful, rose-coloured blossoms.

Moss.... Maternal Love.

Moss is selected to be the emblem of maternal love, because, like that love, it glads the heart when the winter of adversity overtakes us, and when summer friends have deserted us. Rousseau, so long the prey of his own passions, and tormented by those of other men, soothed the latter years of his life by the study of nature. The Mosses, in particular, attracted his attention. It is these, he would say, that give a look of youth and freshness to the fields, at the moment when the flowers have gone to their graves. In winter the Mosses offer to the eye of the lover of nature their carpet of emerald green, their secret nuptials, and the charming mysteries of the urns and amphoræ which enclose their posterity. It is asserted that without the Mosses, part of our globe would be uninhabitable. At the northern extremity of the earth, the Laplanders cover their subterranean abodes with Moss, and thus defy the longest and most terrible winters. Their numerous herds of reindeer have no other food, yet they supply their owners with delicious milk, nutritious flesh, and warm clothing; thus combining for the poor Laplander all the advantages that we derive from the horse, cow, and sheep.

Dandelion.... The Rustic Oracle.

The Dandelion is the most common of flowers. It is found in the four quarters of the globe, near the pole as beneath the equator, on the margin of rivers and streams as well as on sterile rocks. It serves the shepherd instead of a clock, while its feathery tufts are his barometer, predicting calm or storm. The globes formed by the seeds of the Dandelion are used for other purposes. If you are separated from the object of your love, pluck one of those feathery spheres, charge each of the little feathers with a tender thought; turn toward the spot where the loved one dwells; blow, and the aërial travellers will faithfully convey your secret message to his or her feet. If you wish to know if that dear one is thinking of you, blow again; and if a single aigrette is left upon the stalk, it is a proof that you are not forgotten.

Pimpernel.... The Weather-glass.

Poppy.... Consolation.

The Red Poppy is the floral symbol of consolation. The White Poppy is supposed to express, “My bane, my antidote.” The juice extracted from these plants is employed to soothe the restless invalid to sleep, and to ease the pangs of disease. According to the mythology of the Grecians, 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. The Poppy is extensively cultivated in Europe, for the purpose of making opium from it. Many species are cultivated in the garden. The double flowers possess surpassing beauty, whether we consider their delicate texture, elegance of shape, or variety of colouring. In the time of Gesner, the celebrated botanist of Switzerland, the village Damons and Chloes proved the sincerity of their lovers by 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.

Acanthus.... The Arts.

The Acanthus blooms in greatest perfection by the great rivers of hot climates. Among the ancients, it was a favourite, and they adorned their furniture, vases, and costly dresses, with its elegant leaves. When any obstacle obstructs the growth of the Acanthus, it puts forth fresh force and grows with additional vigour. Thus genius is strengthened by the difficulties which it cannot overcome. Callimachus, an ancient architect, derived the idea of the Corinthian capital, from seeing the leaves of an Acanthus surrounding a basket which had been set upon the ground, and impeded the regular growth of the plant.

Valerian.... An accommodating Disposition.

The Valerian was called by some of the old English writers the Setewale. It is generally found growing by ruined walls or buildings, and from the facility with which it propagates in these situations, it is made the emblem of an accommodating disposition. The root of the Valerian is considered a valuable remedy for many of those ailments which spring from luxurious living. It exerts a peculiar influence on the nervous system, revives the spirits, and strengthens the sight. The Valerian is too large and scrambling a plant to hold a place in the parterre of choice flowers.

Marvel of Peru.... Timidity.

The Marvel is a native of Peru, and receives its name from the wonderful diversity of colours in flowers of the same root;

This plant retains its beauty for a great length of time, being frequently covered with blossoms from the beginning of July to the end of October. It is chosen as the emblem of timidity, because the flowers are too timid to expand during the day, and open and give out their fragrance at night.

Stock.... Lasting Beauty.

The Stock has been made the emblem of lasting beauty; because, though it is less graceful than the rose, and less majestic than the lily, its splendour is more durable, and its fragrance of longer continuance. Few flowering plants have been so much and so rapidly improved by cultivation as the Stock. Within the last two centuries, its nature has been almost entirely changed by the florist; and it is now a shrub whose branches are covered with blossoms little inferior in dimensions to the rose. Stocks are produced of various colours, but the bright red or carmine must ever remain the favourite variety. The principal branches of this fragrant family are the Ten-week Stock, so named from flowering about ten weeks after it is sown; and the Brompton, which does not bloom till about twelve months after sowing, and was first cultivated in the neighbourhood of Brompton, England.

Scarlet Geranium.... Stupidity.

There are many varieties of the Geranium, distinguished by the shape and hue of the flowers and leaves, and the difference in their fragrance. The Scarlet Geranium is a very beautiful flower, but its scent is disagreeable. The following anecdote will give the reason of its being chosen as the emblem of stupidity. Madame de Staël was always angry when any of her acquaintance attempted to introduce a stupid person into her company. One day, one of her friends ventured to bring to her a young Swiss officer of most prepossessing exterior. The lady, pleased with his appearance, was very lively, and said a thousand flattering things to the new-comer, who seemed at first to be struck mute by surprise and admiration. When, however, he had listened 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. His answers were extremely silly! Madame de Staël, 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 me this morning a pot of Geranium: but I can tell you that I made him take back the flower, desiring him not to let me see it any more.” “And why so?” asked the young man in astonishment. “It was, since you wish to know, because the Geranium is a beautiful scarlet flower; while{148} you look at it, it pleases the eye; but when you press it ever so slightly, it gives out a disagreeable smell.” So saying, Madame de Staël rose and went out of the room, leaving the young fool abashed and in confusion.

Oak Geranium.... Friendship.

The Oak Geranium does not present so beautiful an appearance as the scarlet variety; but the pale blue colour of the flower, and the length of time which it continues in bloom, endear it to us as the emblem of true friendship.

Tuberose.... Dangerous Love.

The superb Tuberose is a native of the East Indies and South America, and was introduced into Europe in 1632. It has since spread all over the world. The flower is of a white colour, sometimes tinged with a blush of pink. Its perfume is delicious and powerful; but if you would enjoy it without danger, keep at some distance from the plant. If you come with the object of your affection to inhale its perfume by moonlight, when the nightingale is pouring forth its ravishing melody, these odours will add an inexpressible charm to your enjoyment; but, if, regardless of the precepts of moderation, you approach too near, this divine flower will then be but an enchantress who will pour a dangerous poison into your bosom. Thus the love which comes from above purifies and exalts; but that which springs from earth debases and proves the bane of imprudent youth.

Dahlia.... Elegance and Dignity.

The Dahlia is a native of South America, but is now extensively cultivated in Europe and North America. The shrub grows to a considerable height, and the flowers are large and beautiful. The most common colours are crimson and purple. No more appropriate emblem of elegance and dignity of carriage could have been selected. These qualities strike us at the first view of the Dahlia.

Camellia Japonica.... Modest Merit.

The Camellia Japonica is a native of China and Japan. It is a large, evergreen tree. The flowers are large, of the form of a rose of variegated hues—the red prevailing—and without fragrance. It is made the emblem of modest worth, because, as Roscoe observes, “it boasts no fragrance, and conceals no thorn.”

Thorn-Apple.... Deceitful Charms.

The flowers of the Thorn-Apple 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 nature has coloured with purple, lined with ivory; and to which she has given an odour that attracts and intoxicates, but is so dangerous as to stupify those who inhale it even in the open air. It is a dangerous plant to be allowed to grow where children go, 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 madness, in those who have eaten it. Its leaves have been recommended for coughs and asthma. The charms of the Thorn-Apple flower are beautiful, but deadly; like those of the corrupt and treacherous, to be found in every society.

Lady’s Slipper.... Capricious Beauty.

The Lady’s Slipper is well known in Europe and America. The plant is small, but produces a considerable number of flowers, of variegated hues. This flower is made the emblem of capricious beauty, because she seems,

Althea.... Consumed by Love.

The name and signification of the Althea is derived from the Grecian fable of Althea and her son, who lost his life in consequence of his love for the beautiful Atalanta. His consuming away as the fatal brand was burning, suggested the emblem of consumed by love. The Althea is a shrub from five to seven feet in height, and is a native of the East Indies. The flowers are about the size of the common rose, and either of a white or pink hue.

Larkspur.... Flights of Fancy.

Larkspur, Lark’s-claw, Lark-heels, and Lark’s-toe have been given in allusion to the long spur-like nectary, which has been whimsically supposed to represent these things, and many more. The Latin name, Delphinium, is from the Greek, Dolphin, because the nectary was thought like that fish. The French call it Dauphinelle, pied d’alouette, l’épéron de chevalier, (knight’s spur;) and the Italian, speronella, (little spur,) sperone di cavaliere, (knight’s spur,) and fior regio, (king-flower.) These names give quite a chivalric importance to the gentle flower, and furnish abundant subject for thought and fancy. Our own rural names give us a picture of the sky-lark; that “musical cherub,” soaring far and high into the blue summer heaven, above the lonely mountain-top, or over the busy town, and we can recall the delight of listening to his sweet melody.

Dyer’s Weed.... Relief.

Dyer’s Weed is like a very large upright plant of Mignonette, to which sweet exotic it is nearly related, both being members of the reseda family. The Reseda odorata, or Mignonette, is a native of Egypt, and was introduced into England in 1752. The word reseda is from resedo, to calm, to appease. The plants were thought useful applications to external bruises, to ease pain. There are two species growing wild in England. Reseda lutea, or Base-rocket, likes a chalky soil, but R. luteola, the Dyer’s Weed, is often found on waste ground everywhere. It is much used by dyers, particularly in France. It affords a most beautiful yellow dye, for cotton, woollen, mohair, silk, and linen. Blue cloths dipped in a decoction of it become green. The entire plant, when about to flower, is pulled up, and employed both fresh and dried. Like the Coltsfoot, this plant is among the first which spring from the rubbish thrown out of coal-pits. Linnæus observed, that the nodding spike of flowers always follows the sun, even on a cloudy day, pointing eastward in a morning, southward at noon, westward in the afternoon, and northward at night. If this be true, it may supplant the sunflower in the favour of sentimental florists, for the inconstancy of that has long been proved. Good old Gerarde, who evidently did his best to believe all things, says, that he has seen four sunflowers on one stem, pointing to the four cardinal points. I am wan{167}dering from my subject, but must remind you of some sweet lines by that poet of nature—Clare, where he groups the sunflower so nicely; and you may look at that cottage, where the children are playing, and see the picture nearly realized:

Nasturtion.... Patriotism.

The Nasturtion is a native of Europe and the East. The flowers are of a very brilliant golden yellow, and present a beautiful appearance. The plant is said to emit flashes of light in the morning before sunrise, and also at twilight. Its pure, glowing hue recalls that ardent feeling, so clear of self, which leads men to lay down their lives and fortunes for their country’s safety and glory.

Nightshade, or Bitter-sweet.... Truth.

According to the belief of the ancients, Truth was the mother of Virtue, the daughter of Time, and queen of the world. It is a frequent saying, that Truth lies at the bottom of a well, and that she always mingles some bitterness with her sweet blessings; and we have chosen for her emblem a plant which, like her, delights in the shade, and is evergreen. The Nightshade is the only plant in England which loses and reproduces its leaves twice a year.

The Sweet Flag—Acorus Calamus.... Grace.

Broom.... Humility.

Thomas Miller thus speaks of the “bonny Broom,” in his Romance of Nature:—

Beautiful art thou, O Broom! waving in all thy rich array of green and gold, on the breezy bosom of the bee-haunted heath. The sleeping sunshine, and the silver-footed showers, the clouds that for ever play about the face of Heaven, the homeless winds, and the crystal-globed dews, that settle upon thy blossoms like sleep on the veined eyelids of an infant, are ever beating above and around thee, as if to tell that they rejoice in thy companionship, and that, although a thousand years have strided by with silent steps, time hath not abated an atom of their love. Who can tell the thoughts of Saxon Alfred when, wandering alone, crownless and sceptreless, he stretched himself on the lonely moor beneath the shadow of thy golden blossoms, sighing for the fair queen he had left far behind? When he bowed his kingly head, and, musing on thy beauty, buried in a solitary wild, thought how even regal dignity would be enhanced by humility, and that, although thou didst grow there unmarked and unpruned, not a more princely flower waved in his own English garden.

St. John’s Wort.... Superstition.

This plant is an appropriate emblem of superstition; for it has always been regarded with reverence by the peasantry of Europe, on account of its real and supposed virtues. It was supposed to possess the power of defending persons from phantoms and spectres, and driving away all evil spirits. Its large, yellow flower grows close to the earth, and resembles a small wheel of fireworks.

Vervain.... Enchantment.

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 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 misletoe, and offered sacrifices to the earth before they cut this plant in spring, which was a ceremony of great pomp. Though the Druids and their religion have passed away, the Vervain is still the plant of spells and enchantment. In the northern provinces of France, the shepherds gather it with ceremonies and words known only to themselves, and express its juices under certain phases of the moon. They insist that this plant enables them to cure their ailments, and to cast a spell on their daughters and cattle, by which they can make them conform to their wishes.

Corn.... Riches.

Ceres, the goddess of Corn 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. 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 rupture of a contract, may be traced back to an early period of French history, and may be said to have had a royal origin. When Charles the Simple, of France, was abandoned by his principal lords, they broke a straw to express that they would no longer acknowledge him as their king. Corn may be regarded as an appropriate emblem of wealth; since, wherever it grows, it leads us to infer plenty and comfort.

Cranberry.... Cure for the Heartache.

Ivy.... Constancy.

In Greece the altar of Hymen was enwreathed 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, has been made the poet’s frequent image of constancy. The Ivy is attached to the earth by its own roots, and derives no nourishment from the substances to which it clings. The protector of ruins, it adorns the dilapidated walls which it holds together; it will not accept every kind of support, but its attachment ends only with its life.

Holly.... Foresight.

The Holly, with its scarlet berries, is the most beautiful of the evergreens that have been used for ages to adorn the churches of old England, during the Christmas season. It is an ornament to the woods, stripped bare by the rude breath of winter; its berries serve for food for the little birds that never leave us, and its foliage affords them an hospitable shelter during the cold season. Nature, by a seeming forethought, has been careful 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 shelter. It may be added, however, that from the bark of the common Holly, when fermented and washed from the woody fibres, is made the bird-lime which is used for catching small birds.

The Meadow Saffron, or Colchicum Autumnale, springs up about the time the leaves begin to fall from the trees, and may, therefore, be said to proclaim to all nature, that the bright days of summer are past. According to Ovid, this autumnal flower owes its origin to some drops of the magic liquor prepared by Medea, to restore the aged Æson to the bloom and vigour of youth, which were spilled in the fields. As a medicine, the Colchicum is powerful, but dangerous, and must be used with caution. The poisonous quality of the plant seems to be known, as if by instinct, to all kinds of cattle. They all shun it, and in many pastures this alone will be found standing, when all other herbage has been consumed.

China Aster.... Variety.

The China Aster begins to blow when other flowers are scarce. It is like an afterthought of Flora’s, who smiles at leaving us. The China Aster was introduced into Europe by Father d’Insarville, a Jesuit missionary; who, about the year 1730, sent seeds of it to the royal gardens of Paris. As, by cultivation, many varieties of the Aster have been obtained, the flower has been made the emblem of variety.

American Starwort.... Welcome.

The Starwort is another late-blooming flower. It is exclusively indigenous to North America and the Cape of Good Hope. The flowers are of every variety of hue, and present a very attractive appearance.

Juniper.... Protection.

The Juniper has been the favourite of Superstition. The ancients consecrated the 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 Europe, the peasant still believes that the perfume of Juniper berries purifies the air, and drives evil spirits from his humble cot. The Juniper is made to signify protection, on account of the defensive qualities ascribed to it by superstition, and the shelter its drooping branches afford to small animals which are hard pressed by the hunters.

Hazel.... Peace—Reconciliation.

Fable gives the following account of the origin of the signification of the Hazel. There was a time when men were at constant war with each other, and could not be restrained from cruelty and revenge by any tie of kin. The gods at length took pity on them. 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, 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. By the power thus given him, Mercury taught men the love of peace, and of home and country, and made commerce the bond of nations. 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.

Oak.... Nobility.

The form of the Oak tree, when grown fairly and naturally, is a perfect emblem of its qualities, so firm set, so massive, and strong. You may always know it instantly, whether as a wintry skeleton form, bare, and gnarled, and angular, or in its summer garb of rich and finely massed foliage, always the monarch of the woods.

Yew.... Sorrow.

The Yew is among all nations an emblem of sorrow. Its bare trunk, and dark foliage, with which its fruit, looking like drops of blood, stands in harsh contrast, excite in us a sort of aversion. Persons who sleep under a Yew tree are liable to be seized with dizziness, heaviness, and violent headache. Its juice is poisonous, and the tree exhausts the soil which supports it, and destroys all other plants which spring up beneath it. The Yew was planted in old English burying-grounds, and its wood was commonly employed for making bows and arrows before the introduction of fire-arms. The Greeks, impressed with the melancholy aspect of this tree, invented the fable of the unhappy Smilax; who, seeing that her love was rejected by young Crocus, was transformed into a Yew.

Dead Leaves.... Death.

A more appropriate emblem of death than the remains of the forest’s refreshing verdure could not be selected. Withered by the chill breath of ruthless Winter, the leaves strew the earth; and, in time, mingle with the dust, like ourselves. The eye cannot help watching how the winds pursue, scatter, whirl, and drive these remnants of departed life.

Mistletoe.... I climb to greatness.

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.

Ash Tree.... Grandeur.

Chamomile.... Energy in Adversity.

Citron.... Estrangement.

Dragon Plant.... You are near a snare.

Reed.... Single Blessedness.

Fennel.... Strength.

Coxcomb.... Singularity.

Grass.... Submission.

According to the Greek historians, Grass was made the symbol of submission, because the ancient nations of the West gathered Grass and presented it to the conqueror, to show that they confessed themselves overcome. The grass is trodden under foot by imperial man; and, instead of returning to its former vigour with elastic spring, or punishing its violator like the nettle, yields to its fate—spiritless submission.

Fir.... Time.

Common Thistle.... Misanthropy.

Dew Plant.... Serenade.

Pine.... Pity.

Sage.... Domestic Virtues.

Lichen.... Solitude.

DEATH OF THE FLOWERS.

Dictionary of Flowers,

WITH THEIR EMBLEMATIC SIGNIFICATIONS.

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.

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.

3. Iris, Persian, Iris Persica. St. Genevieve, patroness of Paris, 422.

4. Hazel, Corylus avellana. St. Titus, disciple of St. Paul.{269}

5. Hellebore, Helleborus fœtidus. St. Simeon Stylites of Rome.

6. Moss, screw, Tortula rigida. St. Nilammon.

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. Marciana of Rome.

10. Gorse, or Furze, Ulex Europœus. St. William of Bourges, 1207.

11. Moss, early, Bryum hornum. Swan-neck thread-moss. St. Theodosius.

12. Moss, hygrometric, Funaria hygrometrica. St. Arcadius.

13. Yew tree, common, Taxus bacata. St. Veronica, a nun of Milan, 1497.

14. Strawberry, barren, Fragaria sterilis. St. Hilary, 368.

15. Ivy, Hedera helix. St. Paul, the first hermit.

16. Nettle, common red Dead, Lamium purpureum. 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. Agnes, a special patroness of purity: beheaded at the age of thirteen, 304.{270}

22. Grass, early whitlow, Draba verna. St. Vincent, a Spanish martyr.

23. Peziza, Peziza acetobolum. 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. Butter-bur, white, Tussilago alba, or Colt’s-foot. St. Polycarp.

27. Moss, earth, Phascum cuspidatum. St. Chrysostom.

28. Daisy, double, Bellis perennis plenus. St. Margaret of Hungary, 1271.

29. Fern, flowering, Osmunda regalis. St. Francis 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, Polytrichum commune. St. Jane, or Queen Joan, 1505.

Bay, Indian, Laurus indica. St. Margaret of England.{271}

5. Primrose, common, Primula vulgaris. St. Agatha, a Sicilian martyr.

Primrose, red, Primula acaulis. St. Adelaide, 1015.

6. Hyacinth, blue, Hyacinthus orientalis. St. Dorothy, 308.

7. Cyclamen, round-leafed, Cyclamen coum. St. Romuald, 1027.

8. Moss, narrow-leafed spring, Mnium androgynum. St. John of Matha, 1213.

9. Narcissus, Roman, Narcissus Romanus. St. Apollonia, 249.

10. Mezereon, Daphne mezereon. St. Scholastica, 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 hepatica. St. Eulalia of Barcelona.

13. Polyanthos, Plimula Polyanthus. St. Catherine de Ricci, 1589.

14. Crocus, yellow, Crocus mœsiacus, 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 sulphureus. St. Sigifred, bishop of Sweden, 1002.

16. Primrose, lilac, Primula acaulis plena. St. Juliana.

17. Crocus, Scotch, Crocus susianus. St. Flavian, 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.{272}

20. Cynoglossum omphalodes, or C. lusitanicum. St. Milfred, abbess of Munster.

21. Crocus, white, Crocus albus. St. Servianus, bishop, 452.

22. Margaret, herb, Bellis perennis. St. Margaret of Cortona, 1297.

23. Apricot tree, Prunus armeniaca. St. Milburge of England.

24. Fern, great, Osmunda regalis. St. Ethelbert, King of Kent.

25. Peach blossom, Amygdalus persica. St. Walburg, abbess of Swabia, Germany.

26. Periwinkle, lesser, Vinca minor. St. Victor, seventh century.

27. Lungwort, Pulmonaria officinalis. St. Leander, bishop, 596.

28. Crocus, purple, Crocus vernus. St. Proterius, 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 century.

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.{273}

6. Lily, Lent, Pseudo narcissus multiplex. St. Colette, bishop.

7. Daffodil, early, Narcissus simplex. St. Perpetua, martyred under the emperor Severus, 203.

8. Rose, ever-blowing, Rosa semperflorens. St. Rosa, of Viterbo, 1261.

Jonquil, great, Narcissus lœtus. St. Felix, 646.

9. Daffodil, hoop-petticoat, Narcissus bulbocodium. St. Catherine of Bologna, 1463.

10. Chickweed, upright, Veronica triphyllos. St. Droctavæus, abbot, 580.

11. Heath, Cornish, Erica vagans. St. Eulogius of Cordova, 851.

12. Ixia, or crocus-leafed Mistletoe, Ixia bulbocodium, or Viscum albus bulbus. St. Gregory the Great, prætor 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 pardalianches. St. Cyril, archbishop of Jerusalem.

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.{274}

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 oppositifolium. St. Irenæus, bishop of Sirmium, 304.

25. Marigold, Calendula officinalis. Annunciation of the Virgin Mary.

26. Henbane, nightshade-leafed, Hyosciamus scopalia. St. Braulio, bishop of Saragossa, 646.

27. Jonquil, sweet, Narcissus odorus. St. John of Egypt, hermit, 394.

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 minor. St. Zosimus, bishop of Syracuse, 660.

31. Benjamin tree, Laurus benzoin. St. Benjamin, deacon, martyr, 424.

APRIL.

1. Mercury, French annual, Mercurialis annua. St. Hugh, bishop, 1132.

2. Violet, white, Viola alba. St. Francis of Paula, a native of Calabria.{275}

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 imperialis lutea. Vincent Ferrer, 1419.

6. Hyacinth, starch, Hyacinthus racemosus. St. Sixtus I., pope.

7. Anemone, wood, Anemona nemorosa. St. Aphraates, fourth century.

8. Ground-ivy, Glechoma hederacea. St. Dionysius, bishop of Corinth.

9. Polyanthos, red, Primula. St. Mary of Egypt, 421.

10. Violet, pale, Viola tambrigens. St. Mechtildes, abbess, fourteenth century.

11. Dandelion, Leontodon taraxacum. St. Leo the Great, pope, 461.

12. Saxifrage, great thick-leafed, Saxifraga crassifolia. St. Zeno, bishop, 380.

13. Narcissus, green, Narcissus viridiflorus. 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. Joachim 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.

19. Garlic, Allium ursinum. St. Leo IX., pope, 1054.{276}

20. Snowflake, spring, Leucoium vernum. 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 præcox. St. Mark, the Evangelist.

26. Erysimum, yellow, Erysimum barbarea. St. Richarius, abbot, 645.

27. Daffodil, great, Narcissus major. St. Anastasius, pope, 401.

28. Arum, spotted, Arum maculatum. Sts. Didymus 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, Genser, Tulipa gesnerina. St. Philip, supposed to have been the first of Christ’s Apostles.

Bachelor’s Button, Lychnis dioica. St. James the just and the less, apostle, martyred in the tumult in the Temple.

2. Charlock, Raphanus raphanistrum, or Sinapus arvensis. St. Athanasius, patriarch of Alexandria, 373.{277}

3. Narcissus, poetic, Narcissus poeticus. The discovery of the cross, 326.

4. Stock Gilliflower, Cheiranthus incanus. St. Monica, mother of St. Augustine.

5. Apple-tree, Pyrus malus. Sts. Angelus and Pius V., pope, 1572.

6. Globe Flower, bright yellow, Trollius europæus. St. John Damascene, 780.

7. Globe Flower, Asiatic, bright orange, Trollius asiaticus. St. John of Beverly.

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, Pæonia tenuifolia. St. Comgal, Irish abbot, 601.

11. Asphodel, Lancashire, Asphodelus luteus. St. Mammertus, archbishop of Vienna, 477.

12. Iris, German, Iris Germanica. St. Germanus, patriarch of Constantinople, 733.

13. Comfrey, common, Symphytum officinalis. St. John the silent, bishop, 558.

14. Peony, common, Pæonia 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 pilosella. St. Eric, King of Sweden, 1151.

19. Monk’s hood, Aconitum napellus. St. Dunstan, archbishop of Canterbury, 988.{278}

20. Horse Chestnut, Æschylus hippocastanum. St. Bernardine of Sienna, 1444.

21. Ragged Robin, Lychnis flos cuculi. St. Felix of Cantalicio, 1587.

22. Star of Bethlehem, yellow, Tragopogon pratensis. St. Yvo, 1303.

23. Lilac, Springa vulgaris. St. Julia, fifth century.

24. Poppy, monkey, Papaver orientale. St. Vincent of Lerins, 450.

25. Herb, Bennet, common, Geum urbanum. St. Urban, pope, 223.

26. Rhododendron, purple, Rhododendron ponticum. St. Augustine, archbishop of Canterbury, 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.

JUNE.

1. Rose, yellow, Rosa lutea. St. Justin, martyr, 167.

2. Pimpernel, common scarlet, Anagallis arvensis. St. Erasmus, 303.{279}

3. Rose of Meaux, Rosa provincialis. St. Cecilius, 211.

4. Indian Pink, Dianthus chinensis. St. Quirinus, 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 Two-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.

11. Daisy, midsummer, Crysanthemum leucanthemum, 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.{280}

18. Poppy, horned, Chelidonium glaucum. St. Marina, eighth century.

19. La Julienne de Nuit, Hesperis tristis. St. Juliana Falconieri, 1340.

20. Poppy, doubtful, Papaver 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.

23. Ladies Slipper, Cypripedium calceolus. St. Etheldreda, 679.

24. St. John’s Wort, Hipericum pulchrum. Nativity of St. John the Baptist.

25. Sweet William, Dianthus barbatus. St. William of Monte Virgine, 1142.

26. Sowthistle, Alpine hairy blue, Sonchus cœruleus. St. Reingarda, 1135.

27. St. John’s Wort, perforated, Hypericum perforatum. St. John of Montier, sixth century.

28. Cornflower, blue, Centaurea cyanus. St. Irenæus, 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 candidum. Virgin Mary.

3. Mallow, common, Malva sylvestris. St. Phocas, a gardener, 303.{281}

4. Day Lily, tawny, Hemerocallis fulva. St. Ulric, bishop of Augsburg.

5. Rose, double yellow, Rosa sulphurea. St. Edana, of Elphin and Tuam.

6. Hawkweed, Crepis barbata. St. Julian, anchorite, fourth century.

7. Nasturtium, Tropæolum majus. St. Felix, bishop of Nantes, 584.

8. Primrose, evening, Œnothera biennis. St. Elizabeth, queen of Portugal, 1336.

9. Sowthistle, marsh, Sonchus palustris. St. Everildis.

10. Snapdragon, speckled, Antirrhinum triphyllum. Sts. Rufina and Secunda, 257.

11. Lupine, yellow, Lupinus flavus. St. James, bishop of Nisibis, 350.

12. Snapdragon, great, Antirrhinum purpureum. St. John Gualbert, abbot, 1073.

13. Lupine, blue, Lupinus hirsutus. St. Eugenius, bishop, 505.

14. Lupine, red, Lupinus perennis. St. Bonaventure, 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.

17. Sweet-pea, Lathyrus odoratus. St. Marcellina, 397.

18. Marigold, autumn, Chrysanthemum coronarium. 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.{282}

21. Lily, Philadelphian, Lilium Philadelphicum. St. Praxedes.

22. Lily, African, Agapanthus umbellatus. St. Mary Magdalen.

23. Musk flower, Scabias atro-purpurea. St. Apollinaris, bishop of Ravenna.

24. Lupine tree, Lupinits arboreus. St. Lupus, bishop, 478.

25. Herb Christopher, white, Actea spicata. St. Christopher.

26. Chamomile, or Corn Feverfew, Matricaria chamomilla. St. Ann, mother of the Virgin Mary.

27. Loose-strife, Lythrum salicaria. St. Pantaleon, 303.

28. Groundsel, mountain, Senecio montanus. St. Innocent I., pope, 417.

29. Chironia, red, Chironia centorium. 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.

1. Stramony, or Thorn-apple, Datura stramonium. 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. Dominic, founder of the Friar Preachers, 1221.

5. Lily, Egyptian water, Nelumbo nilotica. St. Mary ad Nives.{283}

6. Meadow Saffron, Colchicum autumnale.—Transfiguration of our Lord on Mount Tabor.

7. Amaranth, common, Amaranthus hypochondriacus. St. Cajetan, 1547.

8. Love-lies-bleeding, Amaranthus procumbens. St. Hormisdas.

9. Ragwort, yellow, Senecio jacobæa. St. Romanus.

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 Ragwort, or Bird’s Tongue, Senecio paludosus. St. Radigunda.

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, Antirrhinum linaria. 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.

20. Dandelion, Leontodon serotinus. St. Bernard, abbot, 1153.

21. Marigold, French, Tagetes patula. St. Jean Francois de Chantal, 1641.{284}

22. Timothy, common Cat’s Tail grass, Phleum pratense. St. Timothy, 311.

23. Tansy, common, Tanacetum vulgare. St. Philip Beniti, 1285.

24. Sunflower, tall, Helianthus annuus. St. Bartholomew, apostle.

25. Sunflower, perennial, Helianthus multiflorus. St. Louis, king of France, 1270.

26. Amaryllis, banded, Amaryllis rotata. St. Zephyrinus, pope, 219.

27. Hawkweed, hedge, Hieracium umbellatum. St. Cæsarius, archbishop of Arles, 542.

28. Golden rod, Solidago Virga aurea. St. Augustine, bishop, 430.

29. Hollyhock, yellow, Althea flava. St. Sabinus, king, about 697.

30. Lily, Guernsey, Amaryllis sarniensis. St. Rose of Lima, 1617.

31. Pheasant’s eye, Adonis autumnalis. St. Raymond Nonnatus, 1240.

SEPTEMBER.

1. Orpine, or Livelong, great, Sedum telephium. St. Giles, patron of beggars and cripples. Born at Athens; abbot of Nismes, in France, died 750.

2. Golden rod, Solidago. St. Margaret, thirteenth century.

3. Flea-bane, common yellow, Inula dysenterica. St. Simeon Stylites, the younger, 592.

4. Soapwort, pale pink, Saponaria officinalis. St. Rosalia, 1160.{285}

5. Mushroom, or champignon, Agaricus campestris. St. Laurence Justinian, first patriarch 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.

11. Meadow Saffron, variegated, Colchicum variegatum. St. Hyacinthus, 257.

12. Passion-flower, semilunar, Passiflora peltata. St. Earnswith, abbess, seventh century.

13. Crocus, officinal, Crocus sativus. St. Eulogius, patriarch of Alexandria, 608.

14. Passion-flower, blue, Passiflora cœrulea. Exaltation 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 autumnale. St. Eustachius.{286}

21. Passion-flower, fringed-leafed, variegated, Passiflora ciliata. St. Matthew, the Evangelist.

22. Boletus, tree, Boletus arboreus. St. Maurice, fourth century.

23. Starwort, 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 sempervirens. 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, Artemisa abrotanum. St. Francis of Assissi, founder of the order of Franciscans, 1226.{287}

5. Chamomile, starlike, a fungus, Boltonia asteroides. St. Placidus, 546.

6. Feverfew, creeping rooted, Pyrethrum serotinum. St. Bruno, founder of the Carthusian order, 1101.

7. Chrysanthemum, Indian, Chrysanthemum Indicum. St. Mark, pope, 336.

8. Maudlin, sweet, Achillea ageratum. St. Bridget, 1373.

9. Mushroom, milky, Agaricus lactifluus acris, or A. Listeri. St. Denys, patron saint of France.

10. Aletris, Cape waved-leafed, Aletris viridifolia. St. Francis Borgia, 1572.

11. Holly, common, Ilex aquifolium. St. Ethelburga, 664.

12. Fleabane, wavy, Inula undulata. St. Wilfred, bishop of York, 709.

13. Helenium, yellow, smooth, Helenium autumnale. St. Edward, king and confessor, 1066.

14. Fleabane, Indian, Inula Indica. St. Calixtus, pope, 222.

15. Sweet Sultan, purple, Centaurea moschata. St. Teresa, 1582.

16. Yarrow, Achillea millefolium. St. Gall, abbot, 646.

17. Sunflower, dwarf, Helianthus indicus. St. Anstrudis, 688.

18. Mushroom, Agaricus floccosus. 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.{288}

21. Silphium, hairy-stalked, Silphium asteriscus. St. Ursula, fifth century.

22. Silphium, rough three-leafed, Silphium trifoliatum. St. Nunilo, 840.

23. Starwort, slender-stalked, Aster junceus. St. Theodoret, 362.

24. Starwort, Carolina, Aster Carolinus flexuosus. St. Proclus, archbishop of Constantinople, 447.

25. Starwort, fleabane, Aster Conizoides. St. Crispin, 287.

Starwort, meagre, Aster miser. St. Crispinian, 287.—These were brothers and martyrs, shoemakers, and patrons of that art.

26. Golden rod, late flowered, Solidago petiolaris. St. Evaristus, pope, 112.

27. Starwort, floribund, Aster floribundus. St. Frumentius, apostle of Ethiopia, fourth century.

28. Chrysanthemum, late-flowering creeping. Chrys. serotinum St. Simon, Apostle, the Zealot.

Starwort, scattered, Aster passiflorus. St. Jude, Apostle.

29. Narcissus, green autumnal, Narcissus viridiflorus. St. Narcissus, bishop of Jerusalem, second century.

30. Mushroom, mixed, Agaricus fimetarius. St. Marcellus the centurion, 298.

31. Tick-seed, fennel-leaved, Coreopsis ferulafolia. St. Quintin, 287.

NOVEMBER.

1. Laurustinus, Laurustinus sempervirens. St. Fortunatus.{289}

2. Cherry, winter, Physalis. St. Marcian, 387.

3. Primrose, Primula vulgaris. St. Flour, 389.

4. Strawberry tree, Arbutus. St. Brinstane, bishop of Winchester, 931.

5. Cherry, common winter, Physalis alkakengi. St. Bertille, abbess of Chelles, 692.

6. Yew tree, common, Taxus baccata. St. Leonard, sixth century.

7. Furcræa, Furcræa gigantea. St. Willebord, first bishop of Utrecht, 738.

8. Aletris, Cape, Veltheimia. 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. Martin, 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, bishop of Dublin, 1180.

15. Colt’s foot, sweet-scented, Tussilago fragrans. St. Gertrude, abbess, 1292.

16. Hemp, African bow-string, Sanseviera Guineensis. St. Edmund, archbishop of Canterbury, 1242.

17. Stramony, or Thorn-apple tree, Datura arborea. St. Gregory, Thaumaturgus, bishop, 270.

18. Passion-flower, notch-leafed, Passiflora serratifolia. Dedication of the churches of St. Peter and St. Paul at Rome.{290}

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. Presentation of the Virgin Mary.

22. Sorrel, wood, tube-flowered, Oxalis tubiflora. St. Cecilia, martyr, and patroness of music, particularly of sacred music; supposed to be the inventress of the organ, 230.

23. Sorrel, convex, Oxalis convexula. St. Clement, 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.

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. piloflora. 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. Geodorum, lemon, Geodorum citrinum. St. Bibiania, 363.{291}

3. Indian tree, Euphorbia tirucalle. St. Francis Xavier, 1552.

4. Gooseberry, Barbadoes, Cactus pereskia. St. Chrysologus, 450.

5. 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. Ambrose, 397.

8. Arbor Vitæ, American, Thuga occidentalis. Blessed Virgin Mary.

9. Spruce, Corsican, Pinus laricio. St. Leodocia, 304.

10. Cypress, Portugal, Cupressus pendula. St. Eulalia.

11. Pine, Aleppo, Pinus halapensis. St. Damascus, pope, 384.

12. Heath, crowded, Erica abietina. St. Eadburga, 751.

13. Arbor Vitæ, African, Thuga cupressoides. St. Lucy, martyr of Syracuse, 304.

14. Pine, swamp, Pinus palustris. St. Spiridion, archbishop, 348.

15. Pine, pitch, Pinus resinosa. St. Florence, abbot.

16. Arbor Vitas, Chinese, Thuga orientalis. St. Adelaide, empress, 999.

17. Cedar, white, Cupressus thyoides. St. Olympias, 410.

18. Cypress, New-Holland, Cupressus australis. St. Winebald, 760.

19. Heath, two-coloured, Erica bicolor. St. Samthana, abbess, 738.

20. Stone-pine, Pinus pinea. St. Philogonius, bishop of Antioch, 322.

21. Sparrow-wort, Erica passerina. St. Thomas, apostle.{292}

22. Heath, pellucid, Erica pellucida. St. Cyril, 881.

23. Cedar of Lebanon, Pinus cedrus. St. Victoria, 250.

24. Pine, frankincense, Pinus tæda. Sts. Thrasilla and Emiliana.

25. Holly, Ilex aculeata baccifera. Nativity of our Saviour.

26. Heath, purple, Erica purpurea. St. Stephen, 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.{293}

The Dial of Flowers.

When a plant is approaching its state of perfection, 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 individual 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 its catkins, and not rarely the early-blooming Crowfoot shows 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-{295}coloured flowers, and the Primrose leads on a long train of the charming children of Spring. These now continue to advance in increasing numbers, displaying, especially in May and June, their highest splendour; 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 flowering 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 botanists, the flowery crown of plants serves, among other things, to envelop the tender organs of 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-bud, they acquire that strength and perfection of parts which enable them to endure 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 functions that the flower unfolds itself; but it again closes at such times when external influences 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 different species of Convolvulus, Ipomæa,{296} and Goat’s Beard. We find these, in general, open only till about eleven o’clock. In like manner, the Mallows and the Mesembryanthemums unfold their flowers about noon: and precisely at that time, in serene weather, open the singularly-formed Drosera, and the common Purslain, which shut again in an hour. Others unfold themselves only in the evening, and continue open all night, probably because their delicate organs would be injured by the sun. The Œnotheras, the Gauras, and the different species 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 observed 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 (Gladiolus grandis) changes its colour several times in the course of the day.

Neither is the scent of flowers equally strong and agreeable at all hours of the day: many, even of our indigenous flowers, have the strongest scent at night.{297} 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 Epidendrum, 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 Hyacinth.

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, comprehending the hours between three in the morning and eight in the evening.{298}

It is, of course, impossible to ensure the accurate going of such a dial, because the temperature, the dryness, and the dampness of the air, have a considerable influence on the opening and shutting of flowers.

	PAGE
Acacia, (Friendship)	123
Acanthus, (The arts)	140
Almond Blossom, (Indiscretion)	22
Aloe, (Grief)	28
Althea, (Consumed by love)	162
Amaranth, (Immortality)	100
Anemone, (Forsaken)	122
Ash Tree, (Grandeur)	222
Box, (Stoicism)	63
Broom, (Humility)	179
Cactus, (Ardent love)	26
Camellia Japonica, (Modest merit)	156
Chamomile, (Energy in adversity)	225
China Aster, (Variety)	200
Citron, (Estrangement)	227
Columbine, (Desertion)	87
Common Thistle, (Misanthropy)	243
Corn, (Riches)	186
Cowslip, (Pensiveness)	113
Coxcomb, (Singularity)	235{12}
Cranberry, (Cure for the heartache)	188
Crocus, (Youth)	23
Cypress, (Mourning)	49
Dahlia, (Elegance and dignity)	154
Daisy, (Innocence)	39
Dandelion, (The rustic oracle)	132
Dead Leaves, (Death)	217
Dew Plant, (Serenade)	246
Dragon Plant, (You are near a snare)	229
Dyer’s Weed, (Relief)	166
Fennel, (Strength)	233
Fir, (Time)	238
Forget-me-not	116
Grass, (Submission)	236
Hawthorn, (Hope)	52
Hazel, (Peace, reconciliation)	204
Heliotrope, (Devoted affection)	106
Holly, (Foresight)	195
Hollyhock, (Ambition)	96
Hyacinth, (Constancy)	59
Ice Plant, (Frigidity)	25
Ivy, (Constancy)	193
Jasmine, (Amiability)	109
Juniper, (Protection)	203
Lady’s Slipper, (Capricious beauty)	160
Larkspur, (Flights of fancy)	164
Laurel, (Glory)	98
Lavender, (Distrust)	36
Lichen, (Solitude)	254
Lilac, (First emotions of love)	46
Lily, (Majesty)	67
Lily of the Valley, (Modesty)	58
Love-lies-bleeding, (Deserted love)	55 {13}
Marigold, (Grief)	72
Marvel of Peru, (Timidity)	143
Meadow Saffron, (My best days are past)	198
Mezereon, (Coquetry, desire to please)	13
Mignonette, (Your qualities surpass your charms)	108
Mistletoe, (I climb to greatness)	220
Moss, (Maternal love)	125
Moss Rose, (Confession of love)	69
Myrtle, (Love)	56
Narcissus and Daffodil, (Self-love)	65
Nasturtion, (Patriotism)	168
Nettles, (Cruelty)	86
Nightshade, or Bitter-sweet, (Truth)	170
Oak, (Nobility)	206
Oak Geranium, (Friendship)	150
Orchis, (A belle)	61
Pansy, (Think of me)	37
Passion Flower, (Faith)	89
Peony, (Anger)	85
Periwinkle, (Tender recollections)	43
Pimpernel, (The weather-glass)	133
Pine, (Pity)	248
Pink, (Pure love)	91
Poppy, (Consolation)	135
Primrose, (Early grief)	20
Red Rose, (Beauty and love)	77
Reed, (Single blessedness)	231
Rosemary, (Remembrance)	120
Sage, (Domestic virtues)	251
Scarlet Geranium, (Stupidity)	147
Sensitive Plant, (Chastity)	92
Snowdrop, (Hope)	15
Starwort, American, (Welcome)	202 {14}
St. John’s Wort, (Superstition)	181
Stock, (Lasting beauty)	145
Strawberry, (Perfection)	102
Sweet-Brier, or Eglantine, (Poetry)	45
Sweet-Flag—Acorus Calamus, (Grace)	172
Sunflower, (False riches)	104
Thorn-Apple, (Deceitful charms)	158
Thyme, (Activity)	94
Tuberose, (Dangerous love)	152
Tulip, (Declaration of love)	48
Valerian, (An accommodating disposition)	142
Vervain, (Enchantment)	184
Violet, (Modest worth)	31
Wall-Flower, (Fidelity in adversity)	51
White Water-Lily, (Purity)	70
White Rose, (I would be single)	74
Woodbine, or Honeysuckle, (Affection)	111
Wormwood, (Absence)	30
Yellow Rose, (Jealousy)	75
Yew, (Sorrow)	215
Death of the Flowers	257
Dictionary of Flowers	259
Calendar of Flowers	268
Dial of Flowers	293

Names of Plants.	Hours of Opening.	Hours of Shutting.
Yellow Goat’s Beard (Tragopogon luteum)	3
Common Base Hawkweed, (Crepis tectorum)	4
Field Sowthistle, (Sonchus agrestis)	5
Dandelion (Leontodon Taraxacum)	5
Alpine Base Hawkweed, (Crepis alpina)	5
Naked-stalked Poppy (Papaver nudicaule)	5
Orange Day-lily (Hemerocallis fulva)	5
Red Hawkweed (Hieracium rubrum)	5-6
Meadow Goshmore (Hypochæris pratensis)	6
Red Base Hawkweed, (Crepis rubra)	6-1/2
White Water Lily (Nymphæa alba)	7
White Spiderwort (Anthericum album)	7
Tongue-leafed Mesembryanthemum (M. linguiforme)	7-8
Bearded Mesembryanthemum (M. barbatum)	8
Dandelion (Leontodon Taraxacum)		8-9
Yellow Goat’s Beard (Tragopogon luteum)		9
Field Marigold (Calendula arvensis)	9
Single-flowered Hawkweed (Hieracium Pilosella)	9
Red Pink (Dianthus prolifer)	9	{299}
Red Sandwort (Arenaria rubra)	10
Ice Plant (Mesembryanthemum crystallinum)	10
Common Base Hawkweed (Crepis tectorum)	...	11
Alpine Base Hawkweed (Crepis alpina)	...	11
Field Sowthistle (Sonchus agrestis)	...	12
Red Pink (Dianthus prolifer)	...	1
Red Base Hawkweed (Crepis rubra)	...	1
Bearded Mesembryanthemum (M. barbatum)	...	2
Single-flowered Hawkweed (Hieracium Pilosella)	...	2
Red Sandwort (Arenaria rubra)	...	3
Field Marigold (Calendula arvensis)	...	3
Tongue-leafed Mesembryanthemum (M. linguiforme)	...	3
Red Hawkweed (Hieracium rubrum)	...	4
Ice Plant (Mesembryanthemum crystallinum)	...	4
White Spiderwort (Anthericum album)	...	4
Meadow Goshmore (Hypochæris pratensis)	...	5
White Water Lily (Nymphæa alba)	...	6
Naked-stalked Poppy, (Papaver nudicaule)	...	7
Orange Day-lily, (Hemeroeallis fulva)	...	8

Acacia	Friendship.
—— Rose	Elegance.
Acanthus	The Arts.
Achillea millefolia	War.
Adonis, Flos	Painful Recollections.
Agrimony	Thankfulness.
Almond-tree	Indiscretion.
Aloe	Grief.
Amaranth	Immortality.
Amaryllis	Pride.
Anemone	Forsaken.
——, Field	Sickness.
Angelica	Inspiration.
Angrec	Royalty.
Apple blossom	Preference.
Ash tree	Grandeur.
Asphodel	My Regrets follow you to the Grave.
Aster, China	Variety. {260}
——	After-thought.
Balm of Gilead	Cure.
—— Gentle	Joking.
Balsam	Impatience.
Barberry	Sourness of temper.
Basil	Hate.
Beech	Prosperity.
Bilberry	Treachery.
Bladder-nut	Frivolous amusement.
Borage	Bluntness.
Box tree	Stoicism.
Bramble	Envy.
Broom	Humility.
——	Ardour.
Buck-bean	Calm repose.
Bugloss	Falsehood.
Bulrush	Indiscretion.
Burdock	Touch me not.
Buttercup	Ingratitude.
Cactus, Virginia	Horror.
Canterbury Bell	Constancy.
Catchfly	Snare.
Champignon	Suspicion.
Cherry tree	Good education.
Chestnut tree	Do me justice.
Chicory	Frugality.
Cinquefoil	Beloved daughter.
Circæa	Spell.
Clematis	Artifice.
Clot-bur	Rudeness.
Clove tree	Dignity. {261}
Columbine	Folly.
Convolvulus, Night	Night.
Coriander	Hidden merit.
Corn	Riches.
Cornbottle	Delicacy.
Cornel Cherry tree	Durability.
Cowslip, American	You are my divinity.
Cress	Resolution.
Crown Imperial	Power.
Cuscuta	Meanness.
Cypress	Mourning.
Daffodil	Self-love.
Daisy	Innocence.
——, Garden	I share your sentiments.
——, Wild	I will think of it.
Dandelion	The rustic oracle.
Day-Lily, Yellow	Coquetry.
Dittany	Childbirth.
Dock, Patience	Patience
Dodder	Meanness.
Ebony tree	Blackness.
Eglantine	Poetry.
Fennel	Strength.
Fig	Longevity.
Fir tree	Elevation.
Flax	I feel your kindness.
Flower-de-Luce	Flame.
Forget-Me-Not	Forget me not.
Fraxinella	Fire. {262}
Fuller’s Teasel	Misanthropy.
Geranium, Pencilled leaf	Ingenuity.
——, Rose-scented	Preference.
——, Scarlet	Stupidity.
——, Sorrowful	Melancholy mind.
——, Wild	Steadfast piety.
Grass	Utility.
Hawthorn	Hope.
Hazel	Peace, reconciliation.
Heart’s-ease	Think of me.
Heath	Solitude.
Heliotrope, Peruvian	Devoted attachment.
Hellenium	Tears.
Hepatica	Confidence.
Holly	Foresight.
Hollyhock	Ambition.
Honeysuckle	Generous and devoted affection.
Hop	Injustice.
Hornbeam	Ornament.
Horse-chestnut	Luxury.
Hortensia	You are cold.
Hyacinth	Game, play.
Ice-plant	Your looks freeze me.
Ipomæa	I attach myself to you.
Iris	Message.
Ivy	Friendship.
Jasmine	Amiableness.
——, Carolina	Separation. {263}
——, Indian	I attach myself to you.
Jonquil	Desire.
Juniper	Protection.
Larch	Boldness.
Larkspur	Lightness.
Laurel	Glory.
Laurustinus	I die if neglected.
Lavender	Mistrust.
Leaves, Dead	Sadness, melancholy.
Lilac	First emotions of love.
——, White	Youth.
Lily	Majesty.
Lily of the Valley	Return of happiness.
Linden tree	Conjugal love.
Liverwort	Confidence.
London Pride	Frivolity.
Lotus	Eloquence.
Lucern	Life.
Madder	Calumny.
Maiden Hair	Secrecy.
Mallow	Beneficence.
Manchineel tree	Falsehood.
Mandrake	Rarity.
Maple	Reserve.
Marigold	Grief.
——, Prophetic	Prediction.
—— and Cypress	Despair.
Marvel of Peru	Timidity.
Meadow Saffron	My best days are past.
Mezereon	Coquetry. {264}
——	Desire to please.
Mignonette	Your qualities surpass your charms.
Milkwort	Hermitage.
Mistletoe	I surmount all difficulties.
Moonwort	Forgetfulness.
Moss	Maternal Love.
Mulberry tree, Black	I shall not survive you.
——, White	Wisdom.
Musk-plant	Weakness.
Myrobolan	Privation.
Myrtle	Love.
Narcissus	Self-love.
Nettle	Cruelty.
Nightshade, Bitter-sweet	Truth.
——, Enchanter’s	Spell.
Nosegay	Gallantry.
Oak	Hospitality.
Olive	Peace.
Ophrys, Spider	Skill.
Orange Flower	Chastity.
—— tree	Generosity.
Orchis, Bee	Error.
Parsley	Festivity.
Passion Flower	Faith.
Peppermint	Warmth of feeling.
Periwinkle	Tender recollections.
Pine-apple	You are perfect.
Pink	Pure love. {265}
——, Yellow	Disdain.
Plane tree	Genius.
Plum tree	Keep your promises.
——, Wild	Independence.
Poplar, Black	Courage.
——, White	Time.
Poppy	Consolation.
——	Sleep.
——, White	My bane, my antidote.
Potato	Beneficence.
Primrose	Childhood.
——, large-flowered Evening	Inconstancy.
Privet	Prohibition.
Quince	Temptation.
Ranunculus	You are radiant with charms.
Reeds	Music.
Rose	Love.
——, Hundred-leaved	Grace.
——, Monthly	Beauty ever new.
——, Musk	Capricious beauty.
——, Single	Simplicity.
——, White	Silence.
——, Withered	Fleeting beauty.
——, Yellow	Infidelity.
Rosebud	A young girl.
——, White	A heart unacquainted with love.
Rosemary	Your presence revives me. {266}
Rue, Wild	Morals.
Rush	Docility.
Saffron	Beware of excess.
Sage	Esteem.
Sainfoil, Shaking	Agitation.
St. John’s Wort	Superstition.
Sardonia	Irony.
Sensitive Plant	Chastity.
Snapdragon	Presumption.
Snowdrop	Hope.
Sorrel, Wood	Joy.
Speedwell	Fidelity.
Spindle-tree	Your charms are engraven on my heart.
Star of Bethlehem	Purity.
Stock	Lasting beauty.
——, Ten Week	Promptness.
Stonecrop	Tranquility.
Straw, Broken	Rupture of a contract.
——, Whole	Union.
Strawberry	Perfection.
Sunflower	False riches.
Sweet Sultan	Happiness.
Sweet William	Finesse.
Sycamore	Curiosity.
Syringa	Fraternal.
Tansey, Wild	I declare war against you.
Tendrils of climbing plants	Ties.
Thistle	Surliness.
Thorn-apple	Deceitful charms. {267}
Thrift	Sympathy.
Thyme	Activity.
Tremella Nostoc	Resistance.
Truffle	Surprise.
Tuberose	Dangerous pleasures.
Tulip	Declaration of love.
Tussilage, Sweet-scented	Justice shall be done to you.
Valerian	An accommodating disposition.
——, Greek	Rupture.
Venus’s Looking-glass	Flattery.
Veronica	Fidelity.
Vervain	Enchantment.
Vine	Intoxication.
Violet	Modesty.
——, White	Innocence, candour.
Wallflower	Fidelity in misfortune.
Walnut	Stratagem.
Whortleberry	Treachery.
Willow, Weeping	Mourning.
Wormwood	Absence.
Yew	Sorrow.