294 THE GARDENER. [July 



Queen Rose's Council. The council chamber (Webb's Hotel, Piccadilly) 

 was hardly so sf)acious, or so perfectly exempt from noise, as became 

 such an august assembly, but our eyes and our ears were with the Rose. 

 We commenced with a proceeding most deeply interesting to every 

 British heart — we unanimously ordered dinner. Then we went to work. 

 "\Ye resolved that there should be a Grand National Rose-Show, and 

 that we would raise the necessary funds by subscribing £5 each, as a 

 commencement, and by soliciting subscriptions. That the first show 

 should be held in London about the 1st day of July 1858. That the 

 2)rizes, silver cups, should be awarded to three classes of exhibitors — 

 namely, to growers for sale, to amateurs regularly employing a gardener, 

 and to amateurs not regularly, &c. We then discussed minor details, 

 and having agreed to reassemble when our financial prospects were 

 more clearly developed, we parted. 



And I thought, as I went rushing down the Northern Line, what a 

 joyous, genial day it had been. Personally unknown to my coadjutors, 

 we had been from the moment our hands met as the friends of many 

 years. So it is ever with men who love flowers at heart. Assimilated 

 by the same pursuits and interests, hopes and fears, successes and dis- 

 appointments — above all, by the same thankful, trustful recognition of 

 His majesty and mercy who placed man in a garden to dress it — these 

 men need no formal introductions, no study of character to make them 

 friends. They have a thousand subjects in common, on which they 

 rejoice to compare their mutual experiences, and to conjoin their praise. 

 Were it my deplorable destiny to keep a toll-bar, on some bleak, melan- 

 choly waste, and were I permitted to choose in alleviation a companion, 

 of whom I was to know only that he had one special enthusiasm, I 

 should certainly select a florist. Authors would be too clever for me. 

 Artists would have nothing to paint. Sportsmen I have always loved; 

 but that brook, which they will jump so often at night, does get such 

 an amazing breadth — that stone wall such a fearful height — that rocket- 

 ing pheasant so invisible — that salmon (in Norway) such a raging, gigan- 

 tic beast, that, being fond of facts, m^y interest would flag. No ; give 

 me a thorough florist, fond of all flowers, from a red Campion to Loelia 

 purpurata. We should never be weary of talking about our favourites ; 

 and, you may depend upon it, we should grow something. 



In all sobriety, I often wish that we, who, in these locomotive days, 

 frequently find ourselves in our great cities, especially when our ex- 

 hibitions are open, might have better opportunities from time to time 

 of gratifying our gregarious inclinations. Why, for example, should 

 not the Horticultural Club in London have a permanent building like 

 other clubs, of course on a scale proportioned to its income, where we 

 might write our letters, read our newspapers, and (dare I mention 



