XT IS needless to eulogize the Rose. Poets from An- 

 acreon and Sappho, and earlier than they, down to our own 

 times, have sung its praises ; and yet the rose of Grecian 

 and of Persian song, the rose of troubadours and minstrels, 

 had no beauties so resplendent as those with which its 

 offspring of the present day embellish our gardens. The 

 " thirty sorts of rose," of which John Parkinson speaks in 

 1629, have multiplied to thousands. New races have been 

 introduced from China, Persia, Hindostan, and our own 

 country; and these, amalgamated with the older families 

 by the art of the hybridist, have produced still other 

 forms of surpassing variety and beauty. This multipli- 

 cation and improvement are still in progress. The last two 

 or three years have been prolific beyond precedent in new 

 roses ; and, with all regard for old favorites, it cannot be 

 denied, that, while a few of the roses of our forefathers 

 still hold their ground, the greater part are cast into the 

 shade by the brilliant products of this generation. 



