Roses, however, are generally produced and multiplied by inoculation, which is, as Cowper exactly observes, in a beautiful simile, a

"bud inserted in the rind,

The bud of peach or Rose, &c.”

The usual process by this method is, first to make a transverse incision in the branch, and then, another from it downward resembling a T; the rind is then opened, at the junction of the lines, and the bud inserted; the whole is then tied close, with a string of matting: this is usually practised in Spring, when the sap is rising freely.

"You see, sweet maid, we marry

A gentle scion to the wildest stock;
And make conceive a bark of baser kind

By bud of nobler race; this is an art

Which does mend nature,-change it rather: but
The art itself is nature." Shakspeare.

The cultivation of Roses, although generally confined to ornamental gardening, is nevertheless in some instances pursued as a source of profit; and the leaves are not only purchased by the apothecaries in general throughout the country, but in the neigbourhood of London, there are large gardens devoted to their culture for the purposes of distillation, &c. In all posies, however, they constitute the beauty and the pride, and often fetch a good

price in the metropolis. As I know, my dear Anne, you like a garland, I shall conclude this letter, with the process of making one, from Drayton: it will serve also as a specimen of his poetry.

"Here damask Roses, white and red,
Out of my lap first take I,

Which still shall run along the thread,
My chiefest flower this make I;
Amongst these Roses in a row,
Next place I pinks in plenty,
These double daisies then for show,
And will not this be dainty?
The pretty posy then I'll tye

Like stones some chain enchasing;
And next to them, their near ally,
The purple violet placing.
The curious, choice clove July-flower,
Whose kinds hight the carnation,
For sweetness of most sovereign power,
Shall help my wreath to fashion.
Whose sundry colours, of one kind,
First from one root derived,
Them in their several suits I'll bind,
My garland so contrived.

A course of cowslips then I'll stick,
And here and there (tho' sparely)
The pleasant primrose down I'll prick,
Like pearls, which will show rarely:
Then with these marygolds I'll make
My garland somewhat swelling,
These honeysuckles then I'll take,
Whose sweets shall help their smelling.

C

The lily and the flower-de-lis
For colour much contenting,
For that I them do only prize
They are but poor in scenting.
The daffodil most dainty is

To match with these in meetness;
The columbine compar'd to this,
All much alike for sweetness;
These in their natures only are
Fit to emboss the border;
Therefore I'll take especial care
To place them in their order:
Sweet-williams, compions, sops in wine,
One by another neatly;

Thus have I made this wreath of mine

And finished it featly.

Muse's Elysium, 5th Nymphal.

I remain, yours, &c.

LETTER III.

"No flow'r that blows

Is like this Rose,

Or scatters such perfume:
Upon my breast

Ah! gently rest,

And ever, ever bloom."

Garrick.

MY DEAR ANNE,

THE Rose most plentifully cultivated in our gardens, most generally celebrated by the poets, and most particularly selected for distillation, &c. is Rosa centifolia, or hundred-leaved Rose, so called from the multitude of its petals. It grows from three or four to eight feet high, having pinnated three and five-lobed leaves, and the flowers of very different shades of colour in the varieties; amongst which are common red provence Rose, and pale provence rose; both of them having large and somewhat looseish petals. Cabbage provence Rose; having the petals closely folded over one another like cabbages. Dutch cabbage Rose; very large, and childing provence Rose. To these may be

added, the great royal Rose, growing six or eight feet high, and producing very fine flowers: all these are very elegant and ornamental Roses.

These are all deciduous, and generally summerflowering. "Roses in June," is proverbially spoken of pleasant things in season: and although in open seasons, and favourable situations, they sometimes bloom earlier, yet Thomson has been charged with an anchronism, where, in his invocation to Spring, he invites the " ethereal mildness," to descend

"Veil'd in a shower

Of shadowing Roses."

In this, however, he has countenance of other poets. Spenser, in his "Shepherd's Calender," in the "Merry Month of May," represents as being ycladde

-"the ground with grasse, the woods

With greene leaves, the bushes with blooeming buds,
Youngthes folk now flocken in every where
To gather May-busket and smelling brere;
And home they hasten the postes to dight,
And all the kirk-pillours eare day-light,
With hawthorne buds, and sweet eglantine,
And girlonds of Roses, and soppes in wine."

Even in April, he makes Hobbinole say of Eliza, that he would have

"Upon her head a cremosin coronet,

With damask Roses and daffodillies set."