Dona Ferentes

— We are told by Emerson that gifts should be representative of the giver. The florist should Send his flowers, the gardener his fruits, the poet his poem, and the young girl her needlework, as, severally, the most befitting offerings. Each should bestow himself with his gift. From an economic point of view this system is an admirable one. Surely, a birthday gift of the sort thus indicated might suitably typify the “unbought grace of life.” But suppose the estimable qualities which the would-be giver possesses prove not transferable ? Is there any reason why a poet, who dearly loves a friend with no taste for verse, should refrain from sending that friend something the latter wants, rather than a poem which he does not want ? Is there any reason why the dainty maiden, whose needlework is askew and stammers, as it were, should insist upon doing badly, for love’s sake, that which another can do flawlessly, and which she can procure for a little money ? Is there any reason why, because a man is a painter, he must needs send a picture to a blind friend, when something more available, though less representative of the giver, is at his command ?

The essayist whose injunction furnishes my theme has so well covered whatever ground he has touched that to allude to topics consecrated by his pen savors of hardihood. Yet his insistent discrimination on this head seems to me of very doubtful utility. Gifts, one might say, should be representative not so much of the giver as of the receiver, who is to use them : to the bon vivant, a bottle of old Madeira ; to the poet, a ream of such stationery as his Muse doth most affect; to the statesman, a handsomely engrossed copy of the Constitution ; to the clergyman — but here humanity gives pause, for is not the largest room in the parsonage crammed with Bibles presented by blind good will ? As in mixed company we adapt our conversation to the capacity, even to the professional comprehension, of those we meet, so should a like appreciation of the “fitness of things” accompany our nets of bestowal. Most serviceable, perhaps, are those gifts which cover a multitude of feelings and emotional occasions, which, by their very uselessness, or rather their purely ornamental efficacy, seem to sum up what is most needful in the giving of gifts,— some proof of the love of the giver, some evidence that the friend is remembered, some desire to afford pleasure, and through that pleasure to be remembered by the recipient. Such universal solvent of the question, What to give ? has been reached by the world at large, which, waiving Mr. Emerson’s doctrine of individualism in giving, merely sends flowers !