AN ESSAY ON FLOWERS. 



33 



produce nectarine trees, and peaches, peach 

 trees — yet it occasionally happens that necta- 

 rine seedlings return back to the original form, 

 the peach — and on the other hand, as in this 

 case, the peach sports by seed with the necta- 

 rine variety. The French call all nectarines 

 " smooth peaches" — piches lisses. There are 

 cases on record, in the Transactions of the 



Horticultural Society of London, of both 

 peaches and nectarines growing naturally 

 on the different branches of the same tree. 



Our friend Mr. LoNGWORTii of Cincin- 

 nati, who flatly denies the possibility of such 

 a thing as a peach stone producing a nec- 

 tarine tree, is, we think, bound to pay a 

 visit to the "twins" at Hudson. 



AN ESSAY ON FLOWERS, 



BY II. T. TUCKERMAN, NEW- YORK. 



[With Mr. Tuckerman's obliging permis- 

 sion, we copy from his last volume, — " The 

 Optimist," — the following charming Essay on 

 Flowers. Mr. Tuckerman's refined and cul- 

 tivated taste in the arts and his love of nature 

 are admirably displayed in it, and we have 

 rarely met with any thing on the subject at 

 once so full of poetical fragrance and scholar- 

 ly culture. Ed.] 



Floral apostles! that in dewy splendor 

 AVeep witlioiit woe, ami blush without a crime, 



O may I deeply learn and ne'er surrender 



Your lore sublime. IIokace Smith. 



■I attended church on a fine day of midsum- 

 mer, in one of the most beautiful \ illagcs of 

 New England. The structure, though ex- 

 ternally attractive, from its retired situation 

 and the pleasant grove that surrounded it, 

 like most places of worship in the country, 

 had a very bare and unhallowed aspect with- 

 in. The formal divisions of the pews, the 

 superfluity of white paint, and the absence of 

 anything venerable, either in form or hue, 

 made it agreeable to turn the eyes from the 

 thinly scattered congregation and faded pulpit 

 drapery, to the open window, against which a 

 noble linden lightly tossed its sprays, and 

 through which stole in a delicious breeze, that 

 made the leaves of the hymn-books flutter, a 

 response to that sylvan whispering, which had 

 in it more of devotional music than the 

 screeching bass-viol and unchastened voices 

 that soon drowned all other sounds. In re- 

 verting to tlie scene more immediately adja- 

 cent, however, I suddenly beheld a vase of 



flowers on the communion-table. They were 

 most inartificially and tastefully arranged ; 

 the brilliant tints judiciously lalended, the 

 shadowy green naturally disposed, and the 

 base of the jar which contained them wreathed 

 with trailing blossoms. The sight of this 

 vase of flowers was like enchantment. It 

 seemed to fill that forlorn church with its 

 presence. It spoke of nature, of beauty, of 

 truth, more eloquently than the service. It 

 atoned for the meagre altar, the homely edi- 

 fice, and the imgariiished pew. It seemed to 

 embody and typify the externals of worship 

 with sacramental chalice, baptismal cup, and 

 odorous censer. 



Science and sentiment have rather formal- 

 ized than illustrated the association of flowers : 

 the one by its rigid nomenclature, and the 

 other by an arbitrary language, profane the 

 ideal charms of the floral kingdom. It is 

 pleasant to regard these graceful denizens of 

 the garden and forest, in the spirit of that 

 fine hymn of Horace Smith's which celebrates 

 their beautiful significance. Instead of look- 

 ing at them through the microscopic lens of 

 mere curiosity, or according to the fanciful 

 and hackneyed alphabet that Floral dictiona- 

 ries suggest, let us note their influence as 

 symbols and memorials. To analyse the 

 charm of flowers, is like dissecting music ; it 

 is one of those things which it is far better to 

 enjoy than to attempt to understand. In ob- 

 serving the relation of flowers to life and 

 character, I have often been tempted to be- 

 lieve that a subtle and occult magnetism per- 

 vaded their atmosphere ; that inscriptions of 



