A FIRE in winter, a flower in summer! If you can have a fine print
or picture all the year round, so much the better; you will thus
always have a bit of sunshine in your room, whether the sky be clear
or not. But, above all, a flower in summer!
Most people have yet to learn the true enjoyment of life; it is not
fine dresses, or large houses, or elegant furniture, or rich wines,
or gay parties, that make homes happy. Really, wealth cannot
purchase pleasures of the higher sort; these depend not on money, or
money's worth; it is the heart, and taste, and intellect, which
determine the happiness of men; which give the seeing eye and the
sentient nature, and without which, man is little better than a kind
of walking clothes-horse.
A snug and a clean home, no matter how tiny it be, so that it be
wholesome; windows, into which the sun can shine cheerily; a few
good books (and who need be without a few good books in these days
of universal cheapness?)--no duns at the door, and the cupboard well
supplied, and with a flower in your room!--and there is none so poor
as not to have about him the elements of pleasure.
Hark! there is a child passing our window calling "wallflowers!" We
must have a bunch forthwith: it is only a penny! A shower has just
fallen, the pearly drops are still hanging upon the petals, and they
sparkle in the sun which has again come out in his beauty.
How deliciously the flower smells of country and nature! It is like
summer coming into our room to greet us. The wallflowers are from
Kent, and only last night were looking up to the stars from their
native stems; they are full of buds yet, with their promise of fresh
beauty. "Betty! bring a glass of clear water to put these flowers
in!" and so we set to, arranging and displaying our pennyworth to
the best advantage.
But what do you say to a nosegay of roses? Here you have a specimen
of the most beautiful of the smiles of Nature! Who, that looks on
one of these bright full-blown beauties, will say that she is sad,
or sour, or puritanical! Nature tells us to be happy, to be glad,
for she decks herself with roses, and the fields, the skies, the
hedgerows, the thickets, the green lanes, the dells, the mountains,
the morning and evening sky, are robed in loveliness. The "laughing
flowers," exclaims the poet! but there is more than gayety in the
blooming flower, though it takes a wise man to see its full
significance--there is the beauty, the love, and the adaptation, of
which it is full. Few of us, however, see any more deeply in this
respect than did Peter Bell:--
"A primrose by a river's brim,
A yellow primrose was to him,
And it was nothing more."
What would we think or say of one who had invented
flowers--supposing, that before him, flowers were things unknown;
would it not be the paradise of a new delight? should we not hail
the inventor as a genius as a god? And yet these lovely offsprings
of the earth have been speaking to man from the first dawn of his
existence till now, telling him of the goodness and wisdom of the
Creating Power, which bade the earth bring forth, not only that
which was useful as food, but also flowers, the bright consummate
flowers, to clothe it in beauty and joy!
See that graceful fuchsia, its blood-red petals, and calyx of
bluish-purple, more exquisite in colour and form than any hand or
eyes, no matter how well skilled and trained, can imitate! We can
manufacture no colours to equal those of our flowers in their bright
brilliancy--such, for instance, as the Scarlet Lychnis, the
Browallia, or even the Common Poppy. Then see the exquisite blue of
the humble Speedwell, and the dazzling white of the Star of
Bethlehem, that shines even in the dark. Bring one of even our
common field-flowers into a room, place it on your table or chimney
piece, and you seem to have brought a ray of sunshine into the
place. There is ever cheerfulness about flowers; what a delight are
they to the drooping invalid! the very sight of them is cheering;
they are like a sweet draught of fresh bliss, coming as messengers
from the country without, and seeming to say:--"Come and see the
place where we grow, and let thy heart be glad in our presence."
What can be more innocent than flowers! Are they not like children
undimmed by sin? They are emblems of purity and truth, always a new
source of delight to the pure and the innocent. The heart that does
not love flowers, or the voice of a playful child, is one that we
should not like to consort with. It was a beautiful conceit that
invented a language of flowers, by which lovers were enabled to
express the feelings that they dared not openly speak. But flowers
have a voice to all,--to old and young, to rich and poor, if they
would but listen, and try to interpret their meaning. "To me," says
Wordsworth,
The meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."
Have a flower in your room then, by all means! It will cost you only
a penny, if your ambition is moderate; and the gratification it will
give you will be beyond all price. If you can have a flower for your
window, so much the better. What can be more delicious than the
sun's light streaming through flowers--through the midst of crimson
fuchsias or scarlet geraniums? Then to look out into the light
through flowers--is not that poetry? And to break the force of the
sunbeams by the tender resistance of green leaves? If you can train
a nasturtium round the window, or some sweet-peas, then you have the
most beautiful frame you can invent for the picture without, whether
it be the busy crowd, or a distant landscape, or trees with their
lights and shades, or the changes of the passing clouds. Any one may
thus look through flowers for the price of an old song. And what a
pure taste and refinement does it not indicate on the part of the
cultivator!
A flower in your window sweetens the air, makes your room look
graceful, gives the sun's light a new charm, rejoices your eye, and
links you to nature and beauty. You really cannot be altogether
alone, if you have a sweet flower to look upon, and it is a
companion which will never utter a cross thing to anybody, but
always look beautiful and smiling. Do not despise it because it is
cheap, and everybody may have the luxury as well as you. Common
things are cheap, and common things are invariably the most
valuable. Could we only have a fresh air or sunshine by purchase,
what luxuries these would be; but they are free to all, and we think
not of their blessings.
There is, indeed, much in nature that we do not yet half enjoy,
because we shut our avenues of sensation and of feeling. We are
satisfied with the matter of fact, and look not for the spirit of
fact, which is above all. If we would open our minds to enjoyment,
we should find tranquil pleasures spread about us on every side. We
might live with the angels that visit us on every sunbeam, and sit
with the fairies who wait on every flower. We want some loving
knowledge to enable us truly to enjoy life, and we require to
cultivate a little more than we do the art of making the most of the
common means and appliances for enjoyment, which lie about us on
every side. There are, we doubt not, many who may read these pages,
who can enter into and appreciate the spirit of all that we have now
said; and, to those who may still hesitate, we would say--begin and
experiment forthwith; and first of all, when the next flower-girl
comes along your street, at once hail her, and "Have a flower for
your room!"