COMPANION TO THE FLORAL MAGAZINE. 
11 
to the Isle of Wight for the holidays, and a morning at Portsmouth quite 
convinces us that our destiny is to be an Admiral. And still onwards, 
in the maturity and decadence of life, we never wholly suppress the old 
propensity. I at this moment, in middle age, and happy as man may 
be, am at times attacked by an irresistible craving, a restless aspiration, 
to be—a nurseryman. 
Yes, I must confess that after a visit to my friends at Sawbridgeworth, 
Slough, and elsewhere, it takes me two days completely to recover my 
former ease and contentment. I feel oppressed within the narrow limits 
of my humble rosarium and tiny greenhouses, almost afraid to turn 
myself, like that American, who being asked by his English host his 
reason for remaining indoors, replied “ that this country was so tarna¬ 
tion small, that he was always afraid of stepping over the side of it.” I 
dream of acres of Hoses and of miles of glass, and I awake to a terrific 
tussle between the elements of good and evil within me, the former hardly 
winning the victory, and securing my obedience to the last Commandment. 
Referring now to the Hoses more especially, one is sorely tempted to 
covet the nurseryman, because it is hardly possible for an amateur to 
have a complete collection. He must cultivate so extensively the varie¬ 
ties which are but for exhibition, to enable him to compete with his 
peers, that his available space is absorbed by them, and he is very jealous 
of admitting anything which “will not do for a show flower.” Even 
some of the latter, of Roses most valuable for public competition, are not 
to be found in many large collections, from ignorance of their excellence, 
habit, or treatment. It is of these “ neglected Hoses” that I have now 
to speak. 
First of all, of Hoses suitable for show, none are more valuable and yet 
none so rare as the yellow ones. Why is this ? Because, many ama¬ 
teurs will answer, they are very tender and difficult to rear, hardly to be 
obtained except under glass, and then small and uncertain ; “ rubbidge,” 
as Mrs. Gamp would say. There are some about as tender as young 
Oaks, and about as difficult to rear as rabbits. Triomphe de Rennes and 
Celine Forestier , two of the most lovely yellow Hoses grown, were among 
the few standards in mv rosarium which withstood the cruel winter of 
1860-1 ; and another beautiful Noisette, Narcisse , will endure nine 
winters out of ten upon the briar. 
Of Hoses not so valuable to the exhibitor, from lack of size or of sym¬ 
metry, but indispensable nevertheless in a rosarium, I might mention 
many very generally neglected. We have nothing more beautiful as 
to colour, in Hoses, than the glorious Persian Yellow , golden as a Butter¬ 
cup, and not only magnificent in itself, but amplifying by contrast all 
other Hoses near it. Yet is it rare in Hose-gardens, and many Hosists 
(the word is Mr. Rivers’s, and a good one) have told me that it does not 
bloom with them. It never fails to bloom if it is left unpruned, the dead 
wood only being removed. 
