And her lover stands by Margaret’s side.”—Miss Landon.
In some places, the following mode of floral divination is resorted to. The lover, male or female, who wishes to ascertain the character of the beloved one, draws by lot one of the following flowers, the symbolical meaning attached to which will give the information desired:—
| 1.—Ranunculus | Enterprising. |
| 2.—Wild Pink | Silly. |
| 3.—Auricula | Base. |
| 4.—Blue Cornflower | Loquacious. |
| 5.—Wild Orach | Lazy. |
| 6.—Daisy | Gentle. |
| 7.—Tulip | Ostentatious. |
| 8.—Jonquil | Obstinate. |
| 9.—Orange-flower | Hasty. |
| 10.—Rose | Submissive. |
| 11.—Amaranth | Arbitrary. |
| 12.—Stock | Avaricious. |
| 13.—Spanish | Passionate. |
| 14.—Asphodel | Languishing. |
| 15.—Tricolour | Selfish. |
| 16.—Tuberose | Ambitious. |
| 17.—Jasmine | Cheerful. |
| 18.—Heart’s Ease | Delicate. |
| 19.—Lily | Sincere. |
| 20.—Fritillary | Coquettish. |
| 21.—Snapdragon | Presumptuous. |
| 22.—Carnation | Capricious. |
| 23.—Marigold | Jealous. |
| 24.—Everlasting Flower | Constant. |
CHAPTER XVI.
Funeral Trees and Plants.
The association of certain trees and plants with death and its gloomy surroundings dates from a period remote and shadowy in its antiquity. Allusions to it are found in the most ancient writings and records, and through one of these (the Sanscrit Mahâbhârata) we learn that Pitâ Mahâ, the great Creator, after having created the world, reposed under the tree Salmalî, the leaves of which the winds cannot stir. One of the Sanscrit names applied to this tree is Kantakadruma, Tree of Thorns; and on account of the great size and strength of its spines, it is stated to have been placed as a tree of punishment in the infernal regions, and to have been known as the Tree of Yama (the Hindu god of death). Yama is also spoken of as the dispenser of the ambrosia of immortality, which flows from the fruit of the celestial tree in Paradise (Ficus Indica), and which is known in India as the tree dear to Yama. As king of the spirits of the departed, Yama dwells near the tree. Hel, the Scandinavian goddess of death, has her abode among the roots of Yggdrasill, by the side of one of the fountains. Mîmir, who, according to Scandinavian mythology, gives his name to the fountain of life, is also a king of the dead. The ancients entertained the belief that, on the road traversed by the souls of the departed, there grew a certain tree, the fruit of which was the symbol of eternal life. In the Elysian Fields, where dwelt the spirits of the virtuous in the gloomy regions reigned over by Pluto, whole plains were covered with Asphodel, flowers which were placed by the Greeks and Romans on the graves of the departed as symbolic of the future life. In France, at the beginning of the Christian era, the faithful, with some mystical idea, were wont to scatter on the bottom of coffins, beneath the corpses, seeds of various plants—probably to typify life from the dead.
The belief in a future existence doubtless led to the custom of planting trees on tombs, especially the Cypress, which was regarded as typical both of life and death. The tree growing over the grave, one can easily imagine, was looked upon by the ancient races as an emblem of the soul of the departed become immortal. Evelyn remarks, on this point, that trees and perennial plants are the most natural and instructive hieroglyphics of our expected resurrection and immortality, and that they conduce to the meditation of the living, and the removal of their cogitations from the sphere of vanity and worldliness. This observant writer descants upon the predilection exhibited by the early inhabitants of the world for burial beneath trees, and points out that the venerable Deborah was interred under an Oak at Bethel, and that the bones of Saul and his three sons were buried under the Oak at Jabesh-Gilead. He tells us also that one use made by the ancients of sacred groves was to place in their nemorous shades the bodies of their dead: and that he had read of some nations whose people were wont to hang, not only malefactors, but also their departed friends, and those whom they most esteemed, upon trees, as being so much nearer to heaven, and dedicated to God; believing it far more honourable than to be buried in the earth. He adds that “the same is affirmed of other septentrional people;” and points out that Propertius seems to allude to some such custom in the following lines:—
“The gods forbid my bones in the high road
Should lie, by every wand’ring vulgar trod;