LOVE OF FLOWERS. 67 



beasts," have been, perhaps, at one time or another, 

 by some nation or sect, either the objects of direct 

 worship, or emblem of an invisible sanctity ; but 

 though individuals of the vegetable world may have 

 veiled the mysteries, and been rendered sacred to 

 particular deities and purposes, yet in very few 

 instances, we believe, were they made the repre- 

 sentatives of a deified object, or bowed down to 

 with divine honours. The worship of the one true 

 Being could never have been polluted by any sym- 

 bol suggested by the open flowers and lily-work of 

 the temple. 



The love of flowers seems a naturally implanted 

 passion, without any alloy or debasing object as a 

 motive : the cottage has its pink, its rose, its poly- 

 anthus ; the villa, its geranium, its dahlia, and its 

 clematis : we cherish them in youth, we admire 

 them in declining days; but, perhaps, it is the 

 early flowers of spring that always bring with them 

 the greatest degree of pleasure, and our affections 

 seem immediately to expand at the sight of the 

 first opening blossom under the sunny wall, or 

 sheltered bank, however humble its race may be. 

 In the long and sombre months of winter our love 

 of nature, like the buds of vegetation, seems closed 

 and torpid ; but, like them, it unfolds and reani- 

 mates with the opening year, and we welcome our 

 long-lost associates with a cordiality, that no 

 other season can excite, as friends in a foreign 

 clime. The violet of autumn is greeted with none 

 of the love with which we hail the violet of spring; 



F 2 



