SELECTION. 125 



logical, or physiological classification, I am helplessly, hope- 

 lessly, incapable. I have as " poor brains " for these studies 

 as Cassio for strong drinks. The very words make my 

 head ache, and I long to break them up as one breaks up, 

 in wintry days, some big black coal with a poker. " I am 

 no botanist," as the young Oxonian pleaded to the farmer 

 who reproved him for riding over wheat. I confess that 

 I failed miserably in an attempt to understand the rudi- 

 ments of his science, as set forth in Dr Lindley's School 

 Botany. I honour the botanist, but I do not envy, because, 

 strange as It may seem, he is very rarely an enthusiastic 

 gardener ; because I never remember to have seen a 

 scientific botanist and a successful practical florist under 

 the same hat. Wherefore I am content, when I put on my 

 own " Christy," made for me by one who loves Roses, and 

 grows them well, to confess meekly that it covers a skull 

 void and empty of scientific treasures, but the property, I 

 trust, of a true florist. 



But how am I to begin with the Roses } I fancy that 

 I hear a hiss or two, a shuffling of Impatient shoes, as when 

 too much preliminary fiddling goes on before the play. And 

 here, positively. In the very crisis and nick of time, my 

 doubt is dissolved ; the knot is cut sr; gu^w rvyji;, upon the 



