132 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES 



her sterility. Suddenly, unexpectedly she produced 

 a paragon. 



Thus I wrote in the former editions of my book, 

 and then gave as my reason for not awarding to 

 the Marechal precedence over all other Climbing 

 Roses, the fact that he had not as yet passed the 

 ordeal of one of our severest winters. In common 

 with many other Rosarians, I thought that he was 

 perfectly hardy ; but I resolved to abide by the 

 invariable rule, which I have ever observed in writing 

 about Roses, to make no statements on hearsay or 

 at hazard, but those only which I had proved to be 

 true. A sorrowful experience has since confirmed 

 the prudence of that resolution. In the spring-tide 

 of the year 1871, I gazed, a sadder and a wiser man, 

 upon the black branches of my best al fresco speci- 

 mens, and Marechal Niel was as lifeless as Marechal 

 Ney. And in the summer of 1877 I found, upon 

 some thirty trees, but few perfect specimens, all being 

 more or less injured by the frosts of early spring. 



What Rose, do you think, shall I plant in his 

 place? The nearest resemblance to his living self 

 on which I can lay my hands. ' And the grounds,* 

 you ask sarcastically, ^ of this love for corpses ? ' 

 The grounds, stern censor, are these : The trees 

 which were injured had not sufficient protection ; 

 and though my hope is gone of pronouncing this 



