Korea is the land of beautiful scenery and lovely flowers. Snow white
and ruby red are their chief colors. In the spring time when the ice
has melted and the rivers have poured their floods into the sea, the
whole country blushes with the pink bloom of azaleas. The glens are
white with lilies of the valley. The breezes as they sweep the land
come laden with perfume.
The girls mark the season of the year and the time of the month by the
blossoms even more than by the almanac, for they keep in mind the
calendar of the flowers. Daughters that are especially beloved of their
parents are named from the blossoms, and the Korean house-father, when
affectionate, speaks of his wife as the plum tree. An old song says:
The homesick husband, long away from his dear ones, inquires of a
fellow townsman newly arrived:
“‘Have you seen my native land?
Come tell me all you know;
Did just before the old home door
The plum tree blossoms show?’”
And the stranger answers promptly:
“‘They were in bloom, though pale, ’tis true,
And sad, from waiting long for you.’”
This is like the Scotsman who calls his wife his “bonnie briar bush,”
for in the Land of Morning Glow, they have a language of flowers. Each
plant and blossom has a meaning and either delightful or disagreeable
associations. It is a compliment to speak of a girl as a pear blossom,
for the pear is one of the most glorious of trees and its blooms are
lovely to behold. It would hardly do, however, to call her a cinnamon
rose, for this flower has evil associations. The gee-sang, as the
Koreans pronounce the name of the gei-sha, as the Japanese call the
dancing girls, are associated with the cinnamon rose, for did not the
sages tell this story?
Twelve centuries ago lived the renowned scholar Sul Chong, the greatest
of all the learned men of Korea. His head was as full of knowledge as a
persimmon is of pulp, and his ideas were as numerous as the seeds in a
pomegranate. He taught his countrymen all that was in the books of
China, and in the temple of Confucius his portrait hangs to this day.
He lived in the kingdom of Silla, in the days of its glory, when ships
from Japan and China sailed into its seaports and the Arabs from Bagdad
brought their pretty wares to exchange for gold, ginseng, camphor,
porcelain, cinnamon, ginger and tiger skins, to take to their renowned
Caliph and his turbaned nobles at court, of whom we read in the
“Arabian Nights.”
When the King of Silla, Sin Mun, was living in luxury and filling his
palace with too many pretty dancing girls, who distracted his mind from
attending properly to the affairs of state, Sul Chong warned his master
against the increasing influence of these women by telling him the
following story:
Once upon a time, in spring, the Peony, king of the flowers, blossomed
so gorgeously that it became the admiration of all the lovers of beauty
in the whole country. Hundreds of people made long journeys to the
capital of Silla to see the bright blossoms. In the king’s gardens, on
very tall stalks, the many branches were heavily laden with large red
flowers. These were indeed lovely to behold, but the king of the whole
garden was a single peony, grown on one stem, so that all the strength
and nourishment of the plant were concentrated in that unique royal
bloom. All saluted this flower as king.
When all the other flowers heard of their king’s glory, they came to
pay their respects at the floral court, of which the Peony was
sovereign. All the trees sent their choicest blooms as envoys. In one
glorious procession of perfume and color the Peach, Plum, Pear, Apple,
and Persimmon trooped in, each making its obeisance to the monarch of
all flowers. All these tree blossoms prided themselves on their being
so useful to man as harbingers of the delicious fruits to come.
Then, among the bright throng appeared sprightly young virgin flowers,
the Tea-Rose, in pearl-tinted frock; the Azalea, in pink; the Lily, in
white; the Strawberry Blossom; and a score of other pretty creatures of
the garden. Last of all appeared the Cinnamon Rose. She tripped nimbly
along in a green skirt and red jacket, with haughty air and breath of
spice.
One after the other they were presented to King Peony, and gracefully
made their salute. But of them all, the king seemed most to favor Miss
Cinnamon Flower. He let the others pass out from the Court, but
lingered long with the spicy visitor, spending much time in her
society, as if smitten with her charms. By and by he invited Miss
Cinnamon Rose to come and live in the palace, and leaving his ministers
to carry on the government, he spent all his time in her society. She
was installed in a place near His Majesty and seemed always to have his
ear and attention, even when the king’s prime minister had to wait long
for an audience, or even a word. Miss Cinnamon Rose seemed to be the
real ruler instead of the king himself.
But one day there came to the palace the flower called Old Man. He
looked exactly like an aged beggar dressed in sackcloth and leaning on
a staff. Respectfully bowing, he asked if he might share the
hospitality of the king’s palace. He was welcomed and fed, partaking of
the royal bounty. When at last he was given audience of King Peony, and
was invited to speak, he said:
“Out along the road, Your Majesty, I heard of your rich feast and good
things to eat. Now I hear that you need medicine. Although you dress in
Chinese silk and none are equal to you in the magnificence of your
robes and the splendor of your Court, yet you are much like me in your
wants, and you need a common knife string, as well as I. Is it not so?”
“You are quite right, Old Man,” replied the king. “Yet I like this
Cinnamon Rose and want her with me. I cannot do without her.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Yet, is it not true that if you keep company with
the wise and prudent, your reign will be long, powerful and glorious?
But if you consort with the foolish your house will fall? Did not three
dynasties of the emperors of Great China fall because of the beautiful
women who tempted their Majesties to forget their duties? If it were so
with the ancients, how much more so is it now?”
The king blushed, even to a deep crimson. He confessed his faults and
reformed his life.
It is said the lesson was not lost on the real human king. He dismissed
his harem, sent away the dancing girls and ruled wisely till the day of
his death.