THE LADIES MAGAZINE OF GARDENING. 
215 
be seen. A friend of mine had an approach to it, which he called the 
Rosa pallavicina, a sort of China rose, of a pale straw-colour, a standard 
in the garden, but this too was killed in the severe frost of 1838-9. Last 
year, in the beginning of June, when walking through a nursery-garden 
in search of some pretty flowers in pots, I was struck with astonishment, 
indeed I could hardly believe my eyes, in seeing two or three standard 
rose-trees, with round compact heads, richly studded with gold-coloured 
flowers, not much larger than lialf-a-crown, rising from among a dense 
mass, and rather small, dark green leaves, and forming a beautiful and, 
to me, quite a novel sight. I thought of my poor wife—now no more ! 
and w T ondered whether her yellow rose would ever have been anything 
like these ; but I remembered the leaves were larger and fewer, and this 
plant had altogether a different appearance. The nurseryman informed 
me that he had such a demand for these trees that he sold them as fast 
as he could propagate them (which is done by budding, I believe, and 
which he said was rather difficult to manage with this particular kind), 
and that these roses were the yellow Scotch rose. Now the Scotch rose 
I have understood to grow wild on the mountains, and a very pretty rose 
it is, and I can understand how it has been raised double from seed, as 
many other plants are; but how this rose has been turned yellow, and 
that of such a bright deep hue, when the Scotch rose is originally white, 
I cannot understand. This year they have not flowered so well, the 
flowers are not so bright, and the leaves are brow T n, having been scorched 
by the great heat in May; but I have seen another yellow rose, with a 
larger flower, and leaves like the Sweet-briar, which they call, I think, 
Harrisonia; but it does not grow so close, and the flowers are fewer. 
I have heard of a very curious and beautiful French yellow rose, the petals 
of a light yellow, and gradually deepening in colour towards the base, 
where they assume a deep rich orange, or scarlet colour. This must be 
very beautiful, and I live in hopes some day of having my eyes regaled 
with a sight of it; it would be more beautiful, but could not give me 
more pleasure than the pretty little Scotch rose did. When in Paris, 
some years ago, I have a shadowy recollection of my wife pointing out the 
Austrian rose: it seemed a wild sort of briar, hanging gracefully down 
from among some tall shrubs and trees, and weaving its orange single 
flowers gracefully in the wind. My poor Amelia used to talk in raptures 
of a variety of this sort, with a dark spot like the cistus, which would be 
a very great desideratum for our gardens. I have frequently inquired for 
it at the Horticultural Gardens, but have never seen it growing there, nor 
indeed any sort of yellow rose, which surprises me very much. Does the 
Austrian rose grow wild in Austria, or what does its name arise from, 
