When summer's delightful season arrives, rarely in this country too warm
to be enjoyed throughout the day in the open air, there is nothing more
grateful than a profusion of choice flowers around and within our
dwellings. The humblest apartments ornamented with these beautiful
productions of nature have, in my view, a more delightful effect than
the proudest saloons with gilded ceilings and hangings of Genoa velvet.
The richness of the latter, indeed, would be heightened, and their
elegance increased, by the judicious introduction of flowers and foliage
into them. The odour of flowers, the cool appearance of the dark green
leaves of some species, and the beautiful tints and varied forms of
others, are singularly grateful to the sight, and refreshing at the same
time. Vases of Etruscan mould, containing plants of the commonest kind,
offer those lines of beauty which the eye delights in following; and
variform leaves hanging festooned over them, and shading them if they be
of a light colour, with a soft grateful hue, add much to their pleasing
effect. These decorations are simple and cheap.
Lord Bacon, whose magnificence of mind exempts him from every objection
as a model for the rest of mankind, (in all but the unfortunate error to
which, perhaps, his sordid pursuit in life led him, to the degradation
of his nobler intellect), was enthusiastically attached to flowers, and
kept a succession of them about him in his study and at his table. Now
the union of books and flowers is more particularly agreeable. Nothing,
in my view, is half so delightful as a library set off with these
beautiful productions of the earth during summer, or indeed, any other
season of the year. A library or study, opening on green turf, and
having the view of a distant rugged country, with a peep at the ocean
between hills, a small fertile space forming the nearest ground, and an
easy chair and books, is just as much of local enjoyment as a thinking
man can desire--I reck not if under a thatched or slated roof, to me it
is the same thing. A favourite author on my table, in the midst of my
bouquets, and I speedily forget how the rest of the world wags. I fancy
I am enjoying nature and art together, a consummation of luxury that
never palls upon the appetite--a dessert of uncloying sweets.
Madame Roland seems to have felt very strongly the union of mental
pleasure with that afforded to the senses by flowers. She somewhere
says, "La vûe d'une fleur carresse mon imagination et flatte mes sens à
un point inexprimable; elle réveille avec volupté le sentiment de mon
existence. Sous le tranquil abri du toit paternel, j'étois heureuse des
enfance avec des fleurs et des livres; dans l'étroite enciente d'une
prison, au milieu des fers imposés par la tyrannie la plus revoltante,
j'oublie l'injustice des hommes, leurs sottises, et mes maux, avec des
livres et des fleurs." These pleasures, however, are too simple to be
universally felt.
There is something delightful in the use which the eastern poets,
particularly the Persian, make of flowers in their poetry. Their
allusions are not casual, and in the way of metaphor and simile only;
they seem really to hold them in high admiration. I am not aware that
the flowers of Persia, except the rose, are more beautiful or more
various than those of other countries. Perhaps England, including her
gardens, green-houses, and fields, having introduced a vast variety from
every climate, may exhibit a list unrivalled, as a whole, in odour and
beauty. Yet flowers are not with us held in such high estimation as
among the Orientals, if we are to judge from their poets.
Bowers of roses and flowers are perpetually alluded to in the writings
of eastern poets. The Turks, and indeed the Orientals in general, have
few images of voluptuousness without the richest flowers contributing
towards them. The noblest palaces, where gilding, damask, and fine
carpeting abound, would be essentially wanting in luxury without
flowers. It cannot be from their odour alone that they are thus
identified with pleasure; it is from their union of exquisite hues,
fragrance, and beautiful forms, that they raise a sentiment of
voluptuousness, in the mind; for whatever unites these qualities can
scarcely do otherwise.
Whoever virtuously despises the opinion that simple and cheap pleasures,
not only good, but in the very best taste, are of no value because they
want a meretricious rarity, will fill their apartments with a succession
of our better garden flowers. It has been said that flowers placed in
bedrooms are not wholesome. This cannot be meant of such as are in a
state of vegetation. Plucked and put into water, they quickly decay, and
doubtless, give out a putrescent air; when alive and growing, there need
not be any danger apprehended from them, provided fresh air is
frequently introduced. For spacious rooms, the better kinds, during warm
weather, are those which have a large leaf and bossy flower. Large
leaves have a very agreeable effect on the senses; their rich green is
grateful to the sight; of this kind, the Hydrangaea is remarkably well
adapted for apartments, but it requires plenty of water. Those who have
a greenhouse connected with their dwellings, have the convenience, by
management, of changing their plants as the flowers decay; those who
have not, and yet have space to afford them light and occasionally air,
may rear most of those kinds under their own roof, which may be applied
for ornament in summer. Vases of plaster, modelled from the antique, may
be stained any colour most agreeable to the fancy, and fitted with tin
cases to contain the earthen pots of flowers, to prevent the damp from
acting on them, will look exceedingly well.
The infinite variety of roses, including the Guelder Rose; the
Rhododendron, and other plants of similar growth, are fitted for the
saloon, but they please best in the library. They should be intermingled
with the bookcases, and stands filled with them should be placed
wherever practicable. They are a wonderful relief to the student. There
is always about them a something that infuses a sensation of placid joy,
cheering and refreshing. Perhaps they were first introduced at
festivals, in consequence of their possessing this quality. A flower
garden is the scene of pleasurable feelings of innocence and elegance.
The introduction of flowers into our rooms infuses the same sensations,
but intermingles them more with our domestic comforts; so that we feel,
as it were, in closer contact with them. The succession might be kept up
for the greater part of the year; and even in winter, evergreens will
supply their places, and, in some respects, contrast well with the
season. Many fail in preserving the beauty of plants in their
apartments, because they do not give them sufficient light. Some species
do well with much less light than others. Light is as necessary to them
as air. They should not be too often shifted from one place to another.
Those who will take the trouble, may quicken the growth of some plants,
so as to have spring flowers in winter. Thus Autumn and Spring might be
connected; and flowers blooming in the Winter of our gloomy climate
possess double attraction.
In the flower garden alcove, books are doubly grateful. As in the
library ornamented with flowers they seem to be more enjoyed, so their
union there is irresistibly attracting. To enjoy reading under such
circumstances most, works of imagination are preferable to abstract
subjects. Poetry and romance--"De Vere" and "Pelham"--lighter history--
the lively letters of the French school, like those of Sevigné and
others--or natural history--these are best adapted to peruse amidst
sweets and flowers: in short, any species of writing that does not keep
the mind too intently fixed to allow the senses to wander occasionally
over the scene around, and catch the beauty of the rich vegetation. To
me the enjoyment derived from the union of books and flowers is of the
very highest value among pleasurable sensations.
For my own part, I manage very well without the advantage of a
greenhouse. The evergreens serve me in winter. Then the Lilacs come in,
followed by the Guelder Rose and Woodbine, the latter trained in a pot
upon circular trellis-work. After this there can be no difficulty in
choosing, as the open air offers every variety. I arrange all my library
and parlour-plants in a room in my dwelling-house facing the south,
having a full portion of light, and a fireplace. I promote the growth of
my flowers for the early part of the year by steam-warmth, and having
large tubs and boxes of earth, I am at no loss, in my humble
conservatory, for flowers of many kinds when our climate offers none.
The trouble attending them is all my own, and is one of those
employments which never appear laborious. Those who have better
conveniences may proceed on a larger scale; but I contrive to keep up a
due succession, which to a floral epicure is every thing. To be a day in
the year without seeing a flower is a novelty to me, and I am persuaded
much more might be done with my humble means than I have effected, had I
sufficient leisure to attend to the retarding or forcing them. I cover
every space in my sitting-room with these beautiful fairy things of
creation, and take so much delight in the sight of them, that I cannot
help recommending those of limited incomes, like myself, to follow my
example and be their own nurserymen. The rich might easily obtain them
without; but what they procure by gold, the individual of small means
must obtain by industry. I know there are persons to whom the flowers of
Paradise would be objects of indifference; but who can imitate, or envy
such? They are grovellers, whose coarseness of taste is only fitted for
the grossest food of life. The pleasures "des Fleurs et des Livres" are,
as Henry IV. observed of his child, "the property of all the world."
_New Monthly Magazine._
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