2 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES 



the lady of his love is lovely ever, so to the true 

 Rose-grower must the Rose-tree be always a thing 

 of beauty. To others, when its flowers have faded, 

 it may be worthless as a hedgerow thorn : to him, 

 in every phase, it is precious. I am no more the 

 Rose, it says, but cherish me, for we have dwelt 

 together ; and the glory which has been, and the 

 glory which shall be, never fade from his heart. 



Is it rare or frequent, this fond and complete 

 affection? Go to one of our great exhibitions, and 

 you must surely bring the conviction home, that 

 true love, seen seldom in the outer world, may be 

 always found ^ among the Roses.' From all grades 

 and epochs of life, what vows of constancy, what 

 fervid words ! * Sir Thomas and I are positively 

 going to ruin ourselves with a new Rosarium.' ^ As 

 soon as I get home,' says a country rector, ' I shall 

 plant an acre of my glebe with Roses.' There you 

 may see a Royal Duchess so surprised out of her 

 normal calmness, that she raises two pale pink 

 gloves in an ecstasy of surprise, and murmurs, ^ Oh, 

 how lovely ! ' over Marechal Niel. There a Cabinet 

 Minister stands tiptoe to catch a glimpse of his 

 brother senator, Vaisse, and wishes he had a neck 

 as long as Cicero's. Obstructing his view with her 

 ample form and bountiful bonnet, our old friend 

 Mrs. Brownj who has just had 'one drop of the 



