224 THE FLORIST. 



how the feel of almost every known fabric can be realised by the 

 contact of leaves. Where the touch is sensitive, experiments of this 

 kind may be tried, much to the amusement of the sportive ; for 

 many leaves, if unperceived, and at the same time subject to an 

 exquisite touch, give the sensation of animal, insect, and even mi- 

 neral substances, indicating how intricately modified are the propor- 

 tions of fibre, down, juice, and enamel in their composition. 



In their associations, however, flowers are quite independent 

 both of rare qualities and peculiar beauty. Almost all great men 

 have loved rural seclusion, and have had their favourite villa, island, 

 arbour, or garden-walk. In Switzerland, Germany, and, indeed, 

 every w^here on the continent, these places, consecrated by the par- 

 tiality, or endeared by the memory of genius, are shrines for the 

 traveller. Such are Clarens, Vaucluse, and Coppe. Lamartine's 

 tenderness for Milly, his childhood's home, as exhibited in his late 

 writings, illustrates a sentiment common to all imaginative and affec- 

 tionate men ; but it is observable that sometimes these charmed spots 

 boast no remarkable floral attractions, often only sufficient to make 

 them rural ; a grove of pines, a small vineyard, a picturesque view, 

 and not unfrequently a single tree, like the famous old elm at North- 

 ampton, amid whose gigantic branches Dr. Edwards, who wrote the 

 celebrated treatise on "the will," was accustomed to sit and meditate ; 

 any truly natural object, redolent of verdure and shade, is enough. 

 And the hedges of England, the moors of Scotland, the terrace-gar- 

 dens of Italy, the scrambling prickly-pear fences of Sicily, and the 

 orchards of America, are attractive to the natives of each country on 

 the same principle. It is the beautiful distinction of flowers that, 

 gathered into magnificent horticultural shows, or hidden in lonely 

 nooks, they alike address the sense of beauty ; so that a little sprig 

 of Forget-me-nots may excite a world of sentiment, and one Scarlet 

 Geranium irradiate an entire dw^elling. 



Flowers not only have their phenomena, but their legends. The 

 latter are usually based upon some idea of a sympathetic character, 

 as that which transforms Daphne into a Laurel, and changes the pale 

 hue of a flower to a crimson or purple at the occurrence of human 

 shame or misfortune. Even veneration is excited by the mysterious 

 natural history of some flowers, or the idea they symbolise. Thus 

 the Aloe, that blossoms once in a century, and the night-blooming 

 Cereus, which keeps vigil when all other flowers sleep, and the 

 Passion -Flower, in which the Catholics behold the tokens of our 

 Saviour's agony, have a kind of solemn attraction for the eye and 

 fancy. 



There is no little revelation of character in floral preferences. It 

 accords with the humanity of Burns, that he should celebrate the 

 familiar Daisy ; with the delicate organisation of Shelley, that a Sen- 

 sitive Plant should win his muse; and with Bryant's genuine obser- 

 vation of nature that he dedicates a Httle poem to an inelegant and 

 neglected Gentian. It is in harmony with the church-attachments 

 of Southey, that his most charming minor poem is in praise of 

 the Holly, the symbol of a Christian and national festival ; and no 



