his life, adds his biographer, he lived on these four chapters; and the nearer he approached to death, the oftener did he read the seventeenth. He breathed his last on the 18th May 1843; and on the 22nd he was buried in the churchyard of Gotha, and his favorite hymn was sung around his grave: "What can molest or injure me, who have in Christ a part? Filled with the peace and grace of God, most gladly I depart." THE ROSE AND ITS HISTORY.* SOME body in England has translated from the German, a work bearing this title. We find the following pleasant criticism of the book: "Poets, lovers, concocters of light essays, and fashionable perfumers, are very much obliged to the Rose. When Kisfaladi brought the similes together for the purpose of a 'strike,' he made a great omission by leaving out this overworked flower. It has been marvellously ill-used. Shakspeare himself shows us the worm destroying the fairest roses, as love destroys the fairest souls. The old Latin maxim that the rose is born amid thorns, (which is not the exact truth,) is only a plagiarism from the older Israelitish proverb, that he who delighteth his nose by walking on roses may therewith find his feet full of unpleasant prickles. A French writer says that ingratitude is like the rose, which pricks him who cultivates it -as if ingratitude ever smelt sweet like the flower, or the flower had its thorns for any other but a wise purpose-namely, to warn the touch while it charms the sense.' Poetasters, too, have terribly abused the gentle rose; and when a poet has said a good thing of, or drawn a chastely sad illustration from it, he has been exposed to lose the credit due to him. We may instance a case in point, the exquisite lines of Malherbe "Et rose, elle a vécu ce que vivent les roses, L'espace d'un matin,' which we recently saw attributed to Chateaubriand. Even the proverb-makers are at issue touching their roseate illustrations of wisdom; and while Zschokke's famous sayer of wise things, in Addrich im Moos, says Zeit bringt Rosen, other Teutonic authorities say Zeit bricht Rosen. In this case, however, both are correct, for doubtless if Time brings, he also breaks, roses. Then, how fanciful have been the playful essayists in our blushing friend. Montaigne, for instance, thinks that she is all the sweeter for being in bad company! He does not, indeed, venture to say so on his own authority, but he remarks that some gardeners are of opinion that roses, and violets also, have a more beautiful odor when they are planted near beds of garlick and of onions, for the reason that they imbibe all bad odors, and by exquisite chemistry convert them into essences divine. Although Reynolds asserts that they say those roses are sweetest which have stinking weeds grow under them,' and Mr. Warter recollects seeing rue planted under the double yellow rose-we should prefer having the flowers without the onions. The assertion of the author, therefore, that the idea was 'peculiar to the ancients,' is not correct. What induced Turkish ladies to compliment young mothers by sending them a gift of garlic mixed with roses, but thereby to convey the homely truth that the disagreeables of life are for ever spoiling its sweets? Garlic mixed with roses! We infinitely *The Rose; its Cultivation, Use, and Symbolical prefer the Lilia mixta rosis of the joyous Meaning in Antiquity. old poet who loved the flowers and the wines too, which partook of their color | cried herself to sleep one night at the blot and 'bouquet.' "To turn back to the volume before us. In the first place, despite a world of pleasant and profound lore touching its perfumed subject, it leaves us in doubt whether Rhodes was named from the rose, or the full flower that rounds itself' from Rhodes, the form of which very fanciful persons thought it resembled. To the four sorts of rose first known to all natives of Greece, we have not added above a dozen and a half in so many centuries. The last was the tea-rose, first introduced into England, from China, in 1825. The most famous roses were those of Pæstum and Samos, happy localties, where the rose-trees bloomed twice every year. At Pæstum there is now only a nasty smell; the vase is broken and the scent of the roses does not hang round it still. The tallest rose-tree we ever heard of is the one mentioned in the notes (which outweigh the text) in this book. It was at Sans Souci, and was thirty feet high; but it was trained against a wall, which certainly diminishes the wonder. To plant the tree in ancient times served for ends that are attained now in various ways-it commemorated the dead, celebrated events, illustrated anniversaries, and had many pleasant significations besides. Whole ship-loads of roses were brought to Rome. There were shops in which nothing else were sold; and the artistically-woven garlands were held in such esteem, and the garland-makers in such honor, that the name of Glycera, of Sicyon, has survived as that of a celebrated artist, with whom, however, we imagine Constantine would not be afraid to enter into competition. Glycera, we must add, was so peculiarly admired, as well as generally celebrated, that her lover painted her portrait, and Lucullus gave no less than £300 sterling for a copy of it. "Whatever the time of the year, the Roman must have a rose in his wreath, 'The commonest union was violet, myrtle, and rose.' Stout old gentlemen who wished to drink unusually deep without feeling unpleasant consequences, wore double wreaths about their heads and necks, as preservatives! The generous rose, however, did something for the ladies also. When the renowned and not overscrupulous Aspasia was a child, she had a wart on her face which defied nurses, doctors, and caustic. The pretty child on her beauty; and lo! while she slumbered, she saw Venus's dove, and the dove told her to take some rose-leaves from the statue of the goddess, and lay them on her cheek. The girl did so, full of faith, and she became as perfect in beauty as in intellect, and helped Pericles to corrupt the morals of the Athenians with infinite elegance. That the rose might be so drugged as to poison the wine into which it was thrown, and with which it was often drunk when the topers were at the height of their jollity, may be seen in Pliny; which passage many evil persons have read to infamous purpose, including Tawell, who thereby committed murder contrary to scientific evidence but happily did not escape the gallows. In what is called the classical period, roses seem to have been employed on every occasion from birth to death, both inclusive, and to have made a part in every ceremony, public or private, joyous or saddening. "When Nero, however, honored the house of a Roman noble with his Imperial presence at dinner, there was something more than the flowers-the host was put to an enormous expense by having (according to loyal custom) all his fountains flinging up rose-water. While the jets were pouring out the fragrant liquid, while rose-leaves were on the ground, in the cushions on which the guests lay, hanging in garlands on their brows and in wreaths around their necks, the couleur de rose pervaded the dinner itself and a rose pudding challenged the appetites of the guests. To encourage digestion there was rosewine, which Heliogabalus was not only simple enough to drink, but extravagant enough to bathe in. He went even further, by having the public swimming-baths filled with wine of roses and absinth. After breathing, wearing, eating, drinking, lying on, walking over, and sleeping upon roses. it is not wonderful that the unhappy ancient grew sick. His medical man touched his liver, and immediately gave him a rose draught. Whatever he ailed, the rose was made in some fashion or another to enter into the remedy for his recovery, If the patient died, as he naturally would, then of him more than of any other it might be truly said, that he died of a rose in aromatic pain.' "Among the last things treated of in this book is the origin of the rose, with which the essay would have more appro for instance, is 'Athenal,' page 27? The letters which follow, 'Deipn,' will tell a scholar who is meant, but an ordinary reader would not know thereby that Athenæus is intended. But thi is hypercriticism of a book touching which we will say nothing further, lest our readers should be more like Peggy than Margaret, in that stanza of Hood's which is in itself a volume, and in which he says: priately opened. The author notices the | the volume for general circulation. Who, old traditions that it sprang from the blood of Adonis-that it was white and scentless till Venus trod upon one of its thorns, and with her blood gave it color and scent. There is a poetical tradition that Cupid gave color to the 'Blush Rose' by holding it to Psyche's cheek. This is not noticed by the author; nor does he mention the fanciful origin of the rose as given by Maundeville, who tells us at some length that slander had brought a fair maiden of Bethlehem to the stake, and that at her prayer Heaven quenched the fire, and turned all the brands into rose-trees, bearing white and red roses, the first that ever ony man saughe.' We must not conclude without a suggestion, that the references in the numerous notes should be revised, if there be any intention to print "And the other sex, the tender, the fair, What wide reverses of fate are there! Poor Peggy hawks nosegays from street to were founded on a trivial conceit, and "which," said he, "would do just as wel! that conceit ill-ex] lained, and ill-expressed in our language thus: beside. The lady, we all know, does not conquer in the same manner as the lion does; 'tis a mere play of words," added "and you might as well say that he; If a man who turnips cries Have a turnip than his father." And this humor is of the same sort with which he answered the friend who commended the following line: "Who rules o'er freemen should himself be free." "To be sure," said Dr. Johnson, "Who drives fat oxen should himself be fat." This readiness of finding a parallel, or making one, was shown by him perpetually in the course of conversation. When the French verses of a certain pantomime were quoted thus: "Je suis Cassandre, descendeur des cieux Pour vous faire intendre, mesdames et mess sieurs, Que je suis Cassandre descendeur des cieux"he cried out gaily and suddenly, almost in a moment: "I am Cassandre come down from the sky To tell each bystander, what none can deny, That I am Cassandre, come down from the sky." The pretty Italian verses, too, at the end of Barretti's book, called "Easy Phraseology," he did all improvise in the same manner: "Viva! viva la padrona! "Long may live my lovely Hetty! The famous distich, too, of an Italian improvisator, who, when the Duke of Modena ran away from the comet in the 1742 or 1743: "Le al venir vestro i principi sen vanno, Deh venga ogni di-durate un anno” year "If at your coming princes disappear, Comets, come every day-and stay a year."! When some one in company commended the verses of M. de Benserade à son Lit: "Théâtre des ris et despleurs Lit! où je nais, et où je meurs, he replied, without hesitating: "In bed we laugh, in bed we cry, Dr. Johnson, says Mrs. Piozzi, possessed an almost Tuscan power of improvisation. He called to my daughter who was consulting with a friend about a new gown and dressed hat she thought of wearing at an assembly, thus suddenly, while she hoped he was not listening te their conversation: "Wear the gown and wear the hat; Snatch thy pleasures while they last; Soon those nine lives would be past." ARGUMENTUM AD HOMINEM. The wit of Brougham, in his better days, as well as his propensity to punning and impromptu, are well known. The following anecdote appears to be well authenticated: The Duke of Gloucester, being in con versation with Lord Brougham on the subject of reform, grew so warm in the argument, that he observed hastily the chancellor was very near a fool. Brougham replied that he could not think of contradicting the duke, and declared that he fully saw the force of his royal highness's position. PRIOR. In a gay French company, when every one sang a little song or stanza, of which the burden was "Bannissons la melancholie," when it came to Prior's turn to sing, after the performance of a young lady that sat next, he produced these extemporary lines: "Mais cette voix, et ces beaux yeux, CLERICAL WIT. A clerical gentleman of Hartford who once attended the House of Representatives to read prayers, being politely requested to remain seated near the speaker during the debate, he found himself the spectator of an unmarrying process, so alien to his own vocation, and so characteristic of the legislature of Connecticut, that the result was the following: "It was at Florence, at our resident's Mr. Colman. When Mr. C. asked me what I thought of it, I told him I could not conceive how they could go on so readily and so evenly, without some collusion between them. He said it had amazed everybody at first; that he had no doubt of its being all fair, and desired me to be satisfied of it, to give them some subject myself, as much out of the way as I could think of. As he insisted on my doing so, I offered a subject which must be new to them, and on which they could not well be prepared. It was but a day or two before that a band of musicians and actors set out from Florence, to introduce operas for the first time in the Empress of Russia's court. This advance of music, and that sort of dramatic poetry which the Italians at present look upon as the most capital parts of what they call IMPROMPTU, ADDRESSED BY A PRIEST TO THE LE- virtu, so much further north than ever GISLATURE OF CONNECTICUT. "For cutting all connect-ions famed, DIFFICULT RHYMING. Three or four wits had dined together, and while wine-ing, the subject of impromptu, and the difficulty of finding rhymes for certain names, were discussed. The brigadier-general and poet challenged any of the party to find a happy rhyme for his name, and the challenge was instantly taken up by Brougham the actor. Voici the result: VOL. XXXIX.-NO. II. they had been under the auspices of the then great duke, was the subject I offered for them. They shook their heads a little, and said it was a very difficult one. However, in two or three minutes' time, one of them began with his octave upon it; another answered him immediately, and they went on for five or six stanzas, alternately, without any pause, except that very short one which is allowed them by the giving off of the tune on the guitar, at the end of each stanza. They always improvise to music-at least all that I ever heard-and the tune is somewhat slow; but when they are thoroughly warmed, they will sometimes call out for quicker time. If two of these guitar players meet in the summer nights in 13 |