CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THE FLOWERS OF THE FAR WEST.
For centuries the rose—the queen of flowers—has been a never ceasing inspiration to poets and writers. Every bard has sung his lay to the majesty of this peerless flower.
Every ancient country has its rose traditions. Fashions do not assail the rose, only in specialty and variety.
The unanimity characterizing its nomenclature is but another feature in the unvarying and universal popularity of the rose.
All research fails to reveal the white rose as known to the ancients; the Greek word "rodon," ruddy, being used synonymously by all countries.
It was the flower dedicated to love—to Cupid and Venus. Cupid bestowed it as an emblem upon Harpocrates, the god of silence, to bind him not to betray the evil of his mother, Venus. In consequence the rose became symbolical of silence, and was gracefully distributed on the guest-table as a delicate reminder that all confidences should be respected. Comus, deity of the table, Hebe and Ganymede, nectar-bearers to the gods, were crowned with roses. The rose is typical of youth as well as beauty.
During the greatest opulency of the ancient empires its purity was often sullied by effeminacy and sensuality.
Who has not heard of the roses of the valley of Cashmere? Who has not longed to behold their exquisite perfection? Who, in contemplating the forms and colors, the lights and shadows of Flora's choicest blooms, has not found language failing in fineness to express the delicate eloquence of the rose? Who, in cultivating it, has not felt solicitude and affection for these creatures of the garden? Who has not had his anger excited in beholding a bud ruthlessly torn by sacrilegious hands and has not looked upon the broken stem as he would upon a bleeding artery? Who, in cultivating roses, has not spiritually felt the better for it? The subtlety of its fragrance, the grace of its form, the perfect harmony of its tones appeal to the imagination like music to the soul. In the whole range of nature's variety and completeness nothing so satisfies the idea of perfection as the rose. 'Tis grace idealized and the quintessence of beauty in its flowing lines and curves.
The relative position of the rose to its stem suggests majesty; its color in contrast to its leaves, completeness; the unfolding of its petals, grace; its tintings fulfill that esthetic delight, harmony; its fragrance, the sublimated breath of a fairer existence. In all candor, does it not more than satisfy the degree superlative?