No. 1. 



Tulips. 



27 



Tulips. 



It may be remembered that, some fifty 

 years ago, the mania for tulips was exceed- 

 ingly great all over Europe, particularly in 

 France, and still more in Holland. A root, 

 the Semper Augustus, was sold for 12,000 

 francs; a Yellow Crown, for 1,123 francs, 

 and a chariot drawn by two handsome bays; 

 a very middling tulip, the Viceroy, was sold 

 for the following objects : — four barrels of 

 flour, eight of rye, four cows, eight pigs, 

 twelve sheep, two casks of wine, four of 

 beer, two of butter, a thousand pounds 

 weight of cheese, a bed with all its appur- 

 tenances, a bundle of wearing apparel, and 

 a silver cup. At this period there might be 

 seen in the public prints, under the head of 

 foreign intelligence, such a paraaraph as 

 this — " Amsterdam. — Admiral Liefhens has 

 flowered perfectly at M. Bergheni's." 



But we must not forget the story. One 

 day it was discovered that tulips with a yel- 

 low ground were no longer beautiful, and 

 that the admiration lavished on thero for 

 some time, had been bestowed on them most 

 wrongfully; that the only tulips worth cul- 

 tivating, were those with a white ground ; 

 that ever\' yellow tulip ought to be rejected 

 from every flower bed that had any respect 

 for itself, and that their seed ought to be 

 cast to the winds. The amateurs divided 

 themselves into parties: letters, pamphlets, 

 squibs, songs, nay, large volumes, were 

 written on the subject. The amateurs of 

 yellow tulips, were treated as pig-headed 

 creatures; beings enveloped in the swath- 

 ing-clothes of prejudice; illiberal, retrograd- 

 ing, awkward persons — enemies of enlight- 

 enment — nothing better than Jesuits. 



On the other hand, the partizans of white 

 tulips were branded as innovators, revolu- 

 tionists, democrats, disturbers of the public 

 peace, sans-culottes, mere youngsters. 



Friends quarrelled, spouses were oppased, 

 families were disunited. One evening that 

 M. Muller was playing at dominoes with 

 one of his earliest friends, an old school 

 fellow, and a renowned horticulturist, like 

 himself, the conversation turned on tulips — 

 tulips yellow, and tulips white. M. Muller 

 stood up for the yellow; his friend was a 

 partizan of the white. Both gentlemen 

 were men of good taste and knowledge ofi 

 life, and always used the greatest modera-| 

 tion in their language, and avoided with 

 great care coming to a discussion. 



"Certainly," said M. Muller, "nature has 

 done nothing in vam: there is not a single 

 gem in her jewel-case which does not charm 

 the sight: it is melancholy to see persons 

 act on the principle of exclusion. I freely 



admit that there are certain tulips with 

 white ground, that I would willingly admit 

 into my collection, if my garden was more 

 extensive." 



" I also," remarked his friend, desirous of 

 not remaining behind in politeness and con- 

 cession, " I am ready to allow that the Erij- 

 manthus, yellow though it be, is a flower 

 altogether presentable." 



" 1 should not despise the Unique de Del- 

 phos, notwithstanding its white ground," re- 

 marked M. Muller. 



" It is not very white," retorted his friend. 

 Not more than three or four days elapse 

 before it frees itself from a yellowish tint 

 which it has on opening its petals: in con- 

 sequence we think but little of it." 



" It is, however, the one of your collec- 

 tion that I should prefer." 



The two friends were on excellent terms 

 when Madame Muller quitted the room to 

 get tea ready. It is difficult to tell exactly 

 by what imperceptible transitions they de- 

 parted from that condition to bitterness, to 

 abuse, to insult; but so it is, that when 

 Madame Muller returned to the room five 

 minutes after, she found them under the 

 table, holding each other by the hair, and 

 cuffing away with all their might. M. Mul- 

 ler had thrown the dominoes in his friend's 

 face, and thus the quarrel began. It may 

 be guessed what sensations of shame seized 

 on the two antagonists, when the first effer- 

 vescence had subsided. The next morning 

 M. AluUer sat down and wrote to his friend: 



" I am a wild beast, and an ill-bred man ; 

 receive my apology. Our old friendship 

 will wipe out this moment of madness. My 

 wife requests the pleasure of your company 

 to dinner to-day. We shall have some of 

 those Brussels sprouts you are so fond of. 

 Your friend, Muller. 



"P. S. You will oblige me, my dear 

 friend, to put aside for me a few of your 

 beautifiil white tulips, for which I have re- 

 served for next season, one of my best 

 squares." 



He immediately received the following 

 reply: 



" I shall be with you at a quarter before 

 five. You will permit me, my excellent 

 friend, to introduce to you a horticulturist, 

 who is desirous of admiring your magnifi- 

 cent tulips." 



Through a refinement of politeness, that 

 both understood, M. Muller made a point of 

 admiring the whitest of the white tulips, 

 and his" friend was not less polite, with re- 

 spect to the yellow. However, this move-^ 



