The Ayrshire and Evergreen Roses - it should be, Evergreen if the weather permit - have many claims upon our grateful admiration. If we have an ugly, red-faced, staring wall, which seems to glory in its ugliness, they will hide its deformities more quickly than any other Rose or any other creeper with which I have acquaintance. Only give them a good start, as you give an Irishman "jist a hint" of whisky before you send him on an errand; and, however adverse the position or the aspect, off they go like lamplighters. With their shining leaves, and their pretty clusters of white pink-tinted flowers, they will flourish where no others can grow - in the waste places of the earth, in damp dismal corners, under trees and up them, if you wish. Upon the blank wall of two new rooms, having a western aspect, I planted Rampant sempervirens. Owing to the proximity of another wall and of intermediate shrubs, he was not even gladdened occasionally with a few kindly smiles from the setting sun; and though I gave him plentifully good soil and good manure, I left him hoping against hope. The first year he did little.

I thought he was dying in his dreary dungeon, but he was only planning his escape; and out he bolted the next summer, making shoots like salmon-rods, some more than 20 feet long. "Rampant" must have had adult-baptism, and was well named by his sponsors, always reminding one of a Lancashire anecdote, how a poor client waited upon one Lawyer Cheek of Manchester, with a long bill in his hand, and sighed, as he put down the brass on the table, "They dunna call thee Cheek for nought".

Other members of these two families are alike successful in surmounting hardships - e.g., among the Ayrshires, Dundee Rambler, Queen of Belgians, Ruga (with its faint odour of the ancestral Tea, which intermarried, it is said, with the Roses of Ayr), and Thoresbyana - raised a few miles from my home at Thoresby, the seat of Earl Manvers, where fruits and flowers have the skilful care of a gardener (Mr Henderson) who deserves the name; and among the Evergreens, Adelaide d'Orleans, Felicite Perpetuelle (who would not desire to have this Rose upon his house - this "Rose looking in at the window, And chasing dark sorrow away," as it is written in one of the most touching and most teaching of our ballads?), Myrianthes, and the two Princesses, Marie and Louise.

These Roses are also most appropriate for covering bowers in the rosarium, or arched entrances leading to it. They are very effective upon banks and slopes, which they seem to flood with a white cascade of Roses; and budded upon tall standards of the Briar, they may be soon trained into Weeping Roses - into fountains of leaves and flowers.

Would that Burns had gazed and written upon the lovely little Banksian Rose. He would not have esteemed the wee modest daisy one iota the less - he was too true a florist for that; but he would have painted for us in musical words a charming portrait of this pocket, or rather button-hole, Venus - this petite mignonne flower, which would make a glorious bouquet for Queen Mab's coachman, when she appeared in public, as queens do in fairyland. Or it would make a sweet bridal wreath, as I remember to have seen it once in my childhood, for a doll's wedding - a happier one, I would hope, than that to which I refer, when the bride on her way to the altar fell prone from our tall rocking-horse, and broke her bridal nose- The Banksian Rose is indeed "A miniature of loveliness, all grace Summed up and closed in little;" and both the Yellow and White varieties - the latter having a sweet perfume, as though it had just returned from a visit to the Violet - should be in every collection of mural Roses. The plants should be on their own roots, and those roots should be well protected during the winter months. It cannot be warranted perfectly hardy, but with careful mulching there is scarcely one frost in a lifetime which will kill it.

It may be injured even to the ground, but it will come up again with wondrous rapidity. A tree of mine, which half-covered my house, perished in 1860-1, but it was not sufficiently guarded, because I thought it safe; and "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all".

Under favourable circumstances, the growth of this Rose is most luxuriant. A French writer on Roses tells us of a tree at Toulon which covered a wall 75 feet in breadth and 15 to 18 in height, and which had fifty thousand flowers in simultaneous bloom; and specimens may be seen in our own gardens and conservatories which repress any unbelief. The trees should be pruned when they have flowered in summer, so that a fresh growth of laterals may be well ripened before winter, and bloom in the ensuing spring.

Rather more than twenty years ago, Mr Fortune sent over a batch of Climbing Roses from China, and from one of them, named Fortune's Yellow, great expectations rose. It was described by a rosarian at Seven Oaks as being "nearly as rampant as the old Ayrshire, quite hardy, covered from the middle of May with large loose flowers of every shade - between a rich reddish buff and a full coppery pink - and rambling over a low wall, covering it on both sides about 20 feet wide and 5 feet high." Mr Fortune himself described it as most striking in its own country, with flowers "yellowish salmon, and bronze-like;"but it did not succeed in my garden, and as I find it in only one of the catalogues, I fear it has all but succumbed to our ungenial climate.

Although the Boursault Rose is called, from its habitat, Rosa Alpina, it certainly has not the agility in climbing which entitles the Roses previously discussed to membership in the Alpine Club. The old crimson Amadis is very beautiful when the evening sun is low, and the soft light rests upon its glowing flowers, but Ichabod is soon written on its leaves; and then the Boursault, always excepting Gracilis, is not a graceful tree. They may be trained both to climb and droop, but they have long ceased to perform in my rosarium either of these evolutions. There are better Roses.

Nor am I acquainted, so numerous are the candidates having stronger claims, with any garden which has space to spare for the Multiflora or for the Hybrid Climbing Roses. They are disappearing from the lids (as fair ladies do when no combatant wears their glove in his helmet), and I sigh to count the happy, happy years which are gone since I laid the Garland, as an Immortelle, upon the tomb of Madame D'Arblay. S. Reynolds Hole.