THE GLEANER.

Evening Star, Issue 14308, 5 March 1910, Page 11

THE GLEANER.

[By Duncan Wiught, Dunedin.] No. 129. THE MINISTRY OF FLOWERS. The flowers are Nature’s jewels, with whcae wealth She decks her summer beauty; primrose sweet, With blossoms of pure gold; enchanting rose, \ That, like a virgin queen, salutes the sun, Dew diadem’d. But just listen to Mrs Ilemans: Flowers! when the Saviour’s calm, benignant eye Fell on your gentle beauty; when from you That heavenly lesson for all hearts He drew, F.ternal, universal as the sky; Then in the bosom of your purity A voice He set. as in a temple shrine, That life’s quick travellers ne’er might pass vou by Unwarn’d of that sweet oracle divine. And though too oft its low, celestial sound By the harsh notes of work-day care is drown’d, . And the loud steps of vain, unlist nmg haste: Yet the great lesson hath no tone of power Mightier to reach the soul in thoughts hush’d hour Than yours, meek lilies, chosen thus, and graced. If folks who live in jr near Dunedin City, and love flowers and .shrubs, have not seen a book bv Mr G. M. Ihomson, F.L.S., F.C.S., entitled ’A New Zealand Naturalist's Calendar/ they have lost much that' 1 is of highest value and supreme importance. Even a man like Schiller, who was no sentimentalist, affirms; If thou wouklst attain to thy highest, go. look upon a flower : what* that docs will-lessly, that do thou willingly. . . Did not He whom we designate Saviour, Lord, and King sav: "Consider the lilies, how they grow; they toil not, they spin net: and yet I say unto you that Solomon in nil his glory was not arrayed like one of these." How sweetly emphatic are the v r;rds " I say unto you." Flower in the crannied wall, 1 pluck you out o! the crannies; I hold you here, root and all in my hand. Little flower— hut if 1 could understand What vou are, root and all. and all in all, I should know what tied and man is. —Tennyson. '’JOHN BUSKIN. ' How is it. 1 wonder, that in what we call the springtime of life no one told me about John Buskin? The loss has been almost irreparable. One need not. it is true, cry over .-pilled milk, but the grudge is in my breast, and it does me good to say so. How poor is the person who has not read something of ‘Scenes of travel. ‘Characteristics of Nature.’ 'Painters and Painting.’ How it cxpi-uls the mind and soul to read Ruskiu’s descriptions of what we call common thing-', such as the open sky. splendors of sunset, grass, stones, mountains, water, beauty of space, and kindred subjects. The word-paintLgHwins so rich and illuminating. Listen to tins on —The Charm of Flowers.— “Flowers seem intended for tiie Enlace of ordinary humanity. Children _ love them ; quiet, tender, contented, ordinary people love them ns they grow; luxurious and disorderly people reioice in them gathered. ‘•They are the cottager’s treasure; and in the crowded town, mark as with a little, broken fragment of rainbow, the windows of the workers in whose heart vests the covenant of peace. "Passionate or religious minds contemplate them with fond, feverish intensity. ‘‘To the child and the girl, the peasant and the manufacturing operative, to the prisette and the nun. the lover and monk, thev are precious always," He continues: "Perhaps, it may be thought, if we understood floweis better we might love them le-;s. Vv’c do not love them much as it is. Few people care about flowers. Many, indeed, aic fond of finding a new shape of blossom, caring for it as .a child cates about a kaleidoscope. Many, also, like a fair service of flowers in the greenhou-'e, a;> a fair rervice of plate on the table. “ Manv arc scientifically interested in them, though oven the-e in the nomenclature rather than the flowers.” Some of the above utterances surprise you. and in many instances vou do not accept John Buskin as an infallible authority. Instead of saying strong things, just let’the whole thing \ ue by,’remembering that ho did not know New Zealand, and he never was presentin', a flower show in Dunedin. We are proud of our runny ivies, with towering -Alps, tin on v ■ '.nrv.inlnn*. pineclad hills, the over-rippling. restless sea, our countless rushing crystal .streams and rivers, our fertile plain-;, otp- charming bush with endless dales and dells, broad acres of yellow, golden corn, orchards nf surpassing beauty and fertility, our well-cared-for nurseries, flowers that dazzle the evo and (lord tiro air with sweetest aroma. Through long years of travel in the North us far as the Bay of Islands, and Stewart Island in the extreme south, the writer hereof may surely be allowed to state what he has seen and what he knows. AVell may the rosy young people of our State schools sing,'’and sing lustily, ‘God save Hew Zealand ’ I Fade, flowers, fade—Nature will have it so. 'Tis what nr must in our autumn do! Campbell, too. whose name is well known, sings: Gems of the changing autumn, how beautiful ye are! Shining with* your glossy stems like many a golden star; Peeping through the long grass, smiling on the down, Lighting up the dusky bank just where the sun goes down; Yellow flowers of autumn, how beautiful ye are! Shining from your glossy stems like many a golden star. THE MINISTRY OP A ROSE. I quote from a bright, useful magazine published in Sydney called ‘Glad Tidings’: On a railway train approaching one of the Western cities a company of girls in holiday attire noticed a desperate-looking man in charge of an officer. Some of them spoke of him as a "gaol-bird,” and looked at him with scorn. One at least looked with pitying eye, and said “ Poor fellow!” Selecting one of the most beautiful and fragrant of a bunch of roses that she was taking to a favorite aunt, she crossed over to his seat, and with a smile dropped the flower upon his knee. Tears came to his eves, and, taking the rose in the handcuffed fingers, he said, in a husky voice: '• God bless vou. miss, for your kindness to o poor castaway. A fay you never know what it is to be friendless. It is many a day since I heard a word of cheer from human lips.” An aged man who witnessed the scene told the girls that the prisoner had been a soldier, and as such had learned to drink, and had become a cast-off because of his habits, and was then on the way to a State prison to serve a five years’ sentence. Tears dropped from the eyes of the poor fellow upon the rose, and he carried it with him to his cell, and pressed it between the leaves of bis Bible. In this way the memory nf the kind action was kept before him. Through the long years the rose and the book were alike precious to him. Through grace ho became a Chris tian, and when he left the prison he carried with him testimonials from the prison authorities as to his changed life. AVith a new spirit he began to work humblv among the lowly, and became the moans’of leading many friendless, homeless men and women into better, purer ways of living- , . . Through the passing years many changes and sorrows came to the girl who gave the rose. Parents died, reverses followed, and her brother became a miner and fell into bad habits. One morning an explosion buried the miners who wore working below. A stranger hastened to the mouth of the pit, and, in spite of the great danger, asked to bo lowered that be might help the

men who were below. One by one they were rescued. The man then told the story of tho rose, and its ministry to liis life. Not only so, but he won the brother of the giver to a' new and better life. How much of memory dwells amidst thy bloom, Rose! ever wearing beauty for thy dower I Tho bridal day, tho festival, the tomb. Thou hast thy part in each, thou stateliest flower. Therefore, with thy soft breath come floating by A thousand images of love arid grief, Dreams filled with tokens of mortality, Deep thoughts of all things beautiful and brief, AN UNKNOWN WRITER lias something to say which ought to be helnful to all lovers of flowers who are patient and diligent to produce the best of that which pleases the eye and ministers to the delicate sense of smell. “The cultivation of flowers is, of all the amusements of mankind, the one to bo selected and approved ns the most innocent in itself, and meet perfectly devoid of injury or annoyance to others. Tho employment is not only conducive to health and peace of mind, but probably more goodwill has arisen and friendships been founded by tho intercourse and communication connected with this pursuit than from nary other whatsoever. “ Tho pleasures, tho ecstasies of the horticulturist are harmless and pure. A streak, a shade, a tint becomes his triumph, which, though often obtained by chance, -s secured alone by morning care, by evening caution, and the vigilance of days. An employ which in its various grades excludes neither the opulent nor the indigent, and teeming with boundless variety affords an unceasing excitement to emulation, without contention or ill-will." In tho judgment of this writer it seems a poor, paltry thing if those who love flowers, and carefully cultivate the same (and the name of such surely is legion), if they forget the Creator and think lightly of Him who said : "I am Hie rose of Sharon and the lily o? tho valley.” Wilborforco declares that — “Lovely flowers arc the smiles of Gods goodness." Another wise writer declares: " Flowers, of all created things, arc, the most innocently simple. They are partners of him uni joy and soothers of human sorrow; fit emblems of the victor’s triumph, of tho young bride’s blushes, welcome to the crowded halls, and graceful upon lonely graves.” What a desolate place would be a world without a flower! 'lt would lie a place without a smile; a feast without a wel conic. Are not flowers the stars of the earth, and are not our stars the flowers of Heaven? They are emblems of God’s love to the creation’, and they are the means and ministrations of man’s love to his fellow-creatures. O Father, Lord. The all-beneficent! I bless Thy name, That Thou hast mantled the grcei; earth with flowers. Junking our hearts to nature. Receive Thanks, blessings, love, for these, Thy lavish boons, And, most of all, their heavenward influences. O Thou that gav’st us flowers! *