18 History and Culture of the Viola. 



be resorted to with the greatest advantage, as a solace under the per- 

 plexities and troubles of life. 



In the warm and balmy breezes which are wafted over the plains 

 of Persia, and the still farther East, the youths and maidens of those 

 climes, assisted by their poets, invented a language of flowers, ex- 

 pressive of every emotion of the heart, and spoke every shade of 

 affection, from the first spark of passion to the brightest kindling of 

 love. Our distinguished poet, Percival, has noticed this most 

 beautifully in one of his poems : — 



" In eastern lands they talk in flowers, 

 And they tell in a garland their loves and cares ; 

 Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers 

 On its leaves a mystic language bears." 



It would be delightful to wander long in Nature's garden of flowers ; 

 but the cultivator, perhaps, should never generalize until his labor is 

 over, but should take special care of each individual plant as it comes 

 under his hand, to be cherished by his care and skill. This, how- 

 ever, is a hard rule, and in a work of taste may, perhaps, be broken 

 with forgiveness. 



I ask the reader, — ^if he has ever been delighted by a rose of 

 Sharon, or stopped to gaze on a lilt/ of the valley, — to view with 

 me that little, delicate flower, the tricolored violet, which, by many 

 English authors, is called the pansy, or hear fs-ease. The history of 

 this flower goes back to the days of fable ; and, what is most extraor- 

 dinary, it has never been lost sight of in the revolutions of taste and 

 attachments, so common in respect to the productions of the flower- 

 garden. Some florists trace the name and origin of this flower to lo, 

 daughter of Midas, who, as the early poets say, was changed by 

 Diana, the protector of chastity, to a violet, to hide her from Apollo, 

 who had become enamored of this earth-born beauty. It is a lovely 

 allegory ; for this modest blossom, after many centuries have passed 

 away, still retains the bashful timidity of the nymph, partially con- 

 cealing itself in its own foliage and that of other neighboring shrubs 

 and plants, and shrinking from the gaze of the Sun, in his vernal and 

 autumnal search for his long-lost lo, the object of his love. 



In the poetry of the Greeks, and in all their works of taste, upon 

 natural scenery, they embroider their productions with some allusion 

 to this lovely flower. In the Floral Games, of the Romans, the 

 violet was the beau-ideal of Flora, as the prize consisted of a golden 

 violet. 



That great master, as well as lover of nature, the Bard of Avon, 

 has mingled the perfume of this flower with the sweet and delicate 

 thoughts of the fair Ophelia, who, in her morbid state of sensibility, 

 when Reason was shaken on her throne by Grief, "turned every- 

 thing to prettyness.'' She had been well instructed in the language 

 of flowers, and makes some beautiful discriminations between the 



