Tuberose. 
(DANGEROUS PLEASURES.) 
T HERE is a curious perversion of name in the designation 
of this flower, which has nothing to do with “ tubes,” 
or “ roses,” and is merely a corruption of its botanical title, 
Polianthes tuberosa, the latter word simply signifying tuberous, 
and the former word, from the Greek, expressing city-flower. 
This glorious floral favourite grows naturally in India, whence 
it was brought into Europe in 1632. Its blossoms were origi¬ 
nally single ; and a Monsieur le Cour, a celebrated Leyden 
florist, first produced a double variety. He was so tenacious 
of the roots of this flower, that after he had propagated them 
in such plenty as to have more than he could plant, he caused 
them to be cut in pieces, to have the vanity of boasting that 
he was the only person in Europe who possessed specimens of 
them. This device could not, however, long exclude so de¬ 
sirable an acquisition from the gardens of Europe, and it is 
now common all over the world. 
Its white blossom exhales the most exquisite perfume—a 
perfume, however, it is alleged, so powerful, that to enjoy it 
without danger it is necessary to keep at some distance from 
the plant. 
Shelley, in verses as inexpressibly beautiful as the object 
they celebrate, calls 
“The sweet tuberose, 
The sweetest flower for scent that blows. ” 
The Malayans style this floral belle, “The Mistress of the 
Night; ” a poetical idea that the Irish Anacreon makes use of 
in his fantastic poem of “ Lalla Rookh : ” 
“The tuberose, with her silvery light, 
That in the gardens of Malay 
Is called the Mistress of the Night, 
So like a bride, scented and bright, 
She comes out when the sun’s away.” 
