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of peaceful beauty often set down in the midst of the wildest woods and mountains-have been worthily dwelt upon by M. de Montalembert, the pleasantest and most eloquent, if in some respects the most one-sided, of the many advocates who of late years have taken in hand the cause of the monks. To the Benedictines and Cistercians—the first great agriculturists of Europe, and the first great gardeners, the true predecessors of the Hendersons and Veitches of our own day-we are indebted for many of the old, well-loved flowers that will always keep their places in spite of their gayer, but less permanent, modern rivals. The wall-flower that .scents the dewy air' about the ruined arches of its convent; the scarlet anemone, that flowers about Eastertide, and is called in Palestine the blood-drops of Christ ;' the blossoming almond-tree, one of the symbols of the Virgin ; and the marygold, that received her name, are but a few of the old friends, brought long ago from Syria by some pilgrim monk, and spread from his garden over the whole of Europe. Within those quiet walls the brother Pacificus of his monastery found material for the studies of leaf, flower, and insect with which to decorate the borders of his missals and breviaries; and the sculptor could there arrange his wreaths of white lilies, or his branches of herb bennet,' before transferring them in stone to the capitals of the neighbouring church :
Nor herb nor flow'ret glistened there
But was carved in the cloister arches as fair.' In the cloister garden, too, the monk was wont to meditate on the marvels of the plants that surrounded him, and to find all manner of mysterious emblems in their marks and tracings. Many displayed the true figure of the cross. It might be seen in the centre of the red poppy; and there was a ' zucca' (fig) at Rome, in the garden of the Cistercian convent of Santa Potentiana, the fruit of which, when cut through, showed a green cross inlaid on the white pulp, and having at its angles five seeds, representing the five wounds. This mysterious fig is described and figured by Bosio, who compares it to the Crocefisso de la cepa’ at Valladolid, a representation of Our Lord on the cross, formed naturally, though ‘mirabilmente,' by the twisted growth of a vine root.* The banana, in the Canaries, is never cut with a knife, because it also exhibits a representation of the Crucifixion, just as the fern-root shows an oak tree. But the fame of the greatest of all such marvels arrived at Rome in the year 1609, whilst Bosio was labouring over his ponderous folio on the • Triumphs of the Cross ;' and he pauses accordingly, half doubtful whether he ought to say anything about the 'stupendo e maraviglioso fiore' of which he had been told, seeing that it was a matter almost too . mostruosa e straordinaria ' for belief; but quite unwilling to omit all notice of it, especially as he was daily receiving new confirmation of its wonders. This maraviglioso fiore' was the Passion flower of the New World.
* Bosio, · La Trionfante e Gloriosa Croce.' Roma, 1610.
Drawings and descriptions of the Passion flower were published for the first time, in both Spain and Italy, in 1609. Bosio's chief authority was Father Emmanuello de Villegas, an Augustinian monk, and a native of Mexico, who was at this time visiting Rome. But Father Emmanuel's wonderful account had been confirmed, we are assured, by many personages 'di qualità e di gravità' who had travelled in New Spain, and especially by certain Mexican Jesuits. It would seem, says Bosio, that in this wonderful and mysterious · flower of the five wounds' ('flor de las cinco llagas '), as the Spaniards called it, the Creator of the world had chosen to represent the principal emblems of his Son's Passion; so that in due season it might assist, when its marvels should be explained to them, in the conversion of the heathen people in whose country it grew, He goes on to describe the flower as follows:— The upper petals are tawny (* di color leonato ') in Peru; in New Spain they are white, tinged with rose colour, The fringelike filaments above are blood-red ; 'as though referring to the scourge with which Our Lord was beaten. In the midst of the flower rises the column to which He was bound ; and above are the nails, both of a clear green,' Above, again, is the crown of thorns, surrounded by a kind of veil of threads-seventy-two in number-(the traditional number of the thorns on Our Lord's crown) coloured like a peacock's feather (“di color pavonazzo'). In the centre of the flower, and under the column, are five marks or spots, of a blood colour, 'clearly representing the five chief wounds that Christ received on the cross.' The plant, he continues, is rich in leaves, which in shape resemble the iron of a pike or lance-head, and refer to that with which Our Lord's side was pierced. At nightfall the flower closes entirely; and in the day it only half unfolds itself, keeping always the form of a bell, so that the mysteries so wonderfully enclosed in it cannot be generally seen. Bosio, however, thought proper to draw it fully opened, . per gusto de' pii lettori' —who would thus have the comfort of contemplating in the flower the profound marvels of its, and of our own, Creator.' The close shrouding of the flower, he suggests, may have been
d in it fait fully opmfort of cof our ow have beed, certain saintangement of the at the head o also to their entire distrust of the possibility of legal redress in the courts. He observes, that 'in the half-organized society of the less civilized parts of the United States, the pistol and bowie-knife are as frequent arbiters of disputes as the stiletto is among the Italians. But it would be a gross error to argue from this, that the Americans are violent and passionate by nature; for, among the same people in the older States, where justice is cheaply and strictly administered, the pistol and bowie-knife are almost unknown.'-i. 112-3.
graceful anassing away, but record much cu very gre
designed, by infinite wisdom, as an indication that the mysteries of the cross were not to be revealed to the heathen people of those countries until such time as it seemed good to Him.
In spite of the suggestion of our own Master Parkinson, who was the first to describe the Passion flower in England, that it should be assigned to tható bright occidental star Queen Elizabeth, and be named in memory of her the Virgin climber,' the Passion flower has retained its original name and significance. It is the one great contribution of the Western hemisphere to the symbolical flowers of Christendom; and its starlike blossoms have taken a worthy place beside the mystical roses and trefoils of ecclesiastical decoration ; never more appropriately than in the ironwork of the beautiful choir-screens at Lichfield and at Hereford.
Before concluding, we must say a word or two about the • Floral Calendars' which we have placed at the head of this article. A complete arrangement of the plants and flowers named after certain saints, or recording the festivals of the Church, so far as such plants exist, would be of very great interest and value. It would not only record much curious folklore, now rapidly passing away, but would bring back to us many a graceful and touching association with which earlier ages regarded the commonest flowers of the field and the hedgerow. Something of the sort is attempted in the pamphlet entitled Flores Ecclesiæ,' which, following the Roman calendar, assigns a particular flower to the saint who is recorded on each successive day throughout the year. Many are thoroughly appropriate, but by far the greater number are selected in the most arbitrary fashion; and we can see not the slightest reason for associating St. James the Less with red bachelors' buttons ;' St. Mammutus with • Lancashire asphodel;' or St. Willibrord with the Mexican tiger flower. If colour alone is the rule, we may surely be allowed to choose our own flowers. For anything else there is no other guide than tradition; and the compiler of the Flores Ecclesiæ seems in most instances to have followed a peculiar tradition of his own. In the beautiful volume which stands next on our list—The Church's Floral Calendar '—we find something of the same fault. We can see no reason why certain flowers should be chosen, rather than others of the same colour and time of flowering, as characteristic of the saint whose festival they illustrate. But in this case the arbitrary selectionwhich after all is but rare-is balanced by the beauty of the illuminations, which, in true Mediæval fashion, ornament each page; and by the well-chosen verses which Miss Cuyler, gathering them from poets old and new, has brought to illustrate her
bot the select
subject. In truth, every such book is welcome, provided it display a true love for the “flowers of the field. They are their own best interpreters; and there is not one that cannot preach its own sermon.
• With all, as in some rare limned book, we see
ART. VIII.—Roba di Roma. By William W. Story. Second
Edition, 2 vols., post 8vo. London, 1863. THE author of this book is a son of the celebrated American
1 Judge Story, and has risen to high eminence as a sculptor. His Cleopatra’ attracted much admiration in the International Exhibition of 1862, although open to the serious objection that, whereas the artist had laboured to give beauty and refinement to the African type of face, the daughter of the Ptolemies was really of Greek descent; and among the most remarkable novelties of the Roman studios last winter was Mr. Story's model of “Saul tempted by the Evil Spirit'-a figure of extraordinary power, and, as we believe, thoroughly original, notwithstanding the remembrances which it almost inevitably suggested, of King Claudius in Maclise's “Hamlet,' and of Scheffer's König in Thule.
Mr. Story is not one of those Americans who, with the unfailing red book in hand, do the whole Vatican and Peter's easily in one day;' who in a few hours make up their minds that Rome is a one-horse place, and will never allow us to enjoy anything there, or in any other part of Europe, without some disparaging comparison with things beyond the Atlantic, His knowledge of Rome is the result of long residence; he loves the place; he has gone among its people, and knows their ways; and when he draws a comparison with other nations, it is not for the sake of running down the Romans, but rather by way of vindicating them. How far he is disposed to carry this at times may appear from his plea for the stiletto, the use of which he attributes not merely to the passionate nature of the Italians, but
The chief fault of the book is, that the author is not content with his proper work. In the opening chapter he professes to write for travellers, to whom the common out-door pictures of modern Roman life would have a charm as special as the galleries and antiquities, and to whom a sketch of many things, which wise and serious travellers have passed by as unworthy their notice, might be interesting. .... The common life of the modern Romans, the games, customs, and habits of the people, the every-day of To-day ...this (he says) is the subject which has specially interested me' (i. 7). We expect, therefore, to find in Mr. Story's volumes the result of his observation of actual Roman life-sketches of things which every traveller may see, but sketches drawn with an understanding which is beyond the reach of the mere passing traveller; and such is the best part of the book. But, unhappily, Mr. Story is not satisfied with the character of a skilful observer and sketcher, but is bent on showing us that he is a man of vast learning and profound research ; and hence it has come to pass that by far too large a portion of his pages is occupied with matter fitter for the grave and sober treatises with which, in the passage just quoted, he disclaims all rivalryfit for anything rather than for a work of light and agreeable gossip.
Nor can we say that the learning which is thus ostentatiously thrust on us is of any very satisfactory kind. There may be simple persons in the world who would look with awe on such a string of references as the following :
Tertullian de an., cap. 46; id., lib. i. cap. 82 ; lib. iii. cap. 28; lib, iv. cap. 25. Artemidorus de Somn., lib. xi. cap. 14 and 49. Fulgentius Mythol., lib. i. Cicero de Divinat., lib. i. See also Leopardi, Dei Sogni, p. 68.'—i. 134. But there is something about the physiognomy of this note which to any one who has had some experience of the artifices of literature, must suggest an uncomfortable suspicion; and, without having attempted to see Leopardi,' we are pretty certain that the other references are borrowed from him wholesale. And so