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tried more earnestly to set our painters right in these matters than Mr. Ruskin, and how little even now have they profited by his teaching! They catch hold of a suggestion, as when he once told them (showed them, we might say) that a spray of pink apple-blossom against a blue sky was beautiful, and the next exhibition or two abounded in blossoming apple-boughs: but they seem unable to grasp a principle. It was in 1851, in his tract on 'Pre-Raphaelitism,' that he urged the painting of 'the heather as it grows, and the foxglove and the harebell as they nestle in the clefts of the rocks,' and this very year, while speaking of the same artist, Mr. Hunt, he has had to repeat the same lesson, that plants that grow are pleasanter objects than flowers that are gathered. And, indeed, the reason is not far to seek. A bunch of garden-roses thrown carelessly down upon a mossy bank—and there is scarcely an exhibition without one-not only gives one a feeling of incongruity (as though the fashionable flowers were out at a picnic), but a stronger feeling still of coming death. We know those roses must wither and die, almost, we fancy, as we look upon them. No dew that falls can now keep them alive, as it will the humble moss-so much better than they-on which they rest. And it is almost worse when the poor gathered flowers are brought indoors and placed in some blue jar or Salviati vase, and the artist shows how carefully he can draw, not so much the petals of the flowers, as the texture of the porcelain or the iridescence of the glass. It is difficult enough worthily to paint the light and glow of colour in any beautiful flower, but, if it is to be painted, let it be when the plant is still growing, and as it grows. Any garden will give subjects enough, if they are only sought for. Here is a bank of daffodils; here the white narcissus and the red anemone have formed a group; here a blue forget-me-not looks up into the bell of the snake's-head fritillary; here is a great peony bowed down with its crimson globes; here a nasturtium trails its bright yellow blossoms along a bit of grey old rock; here a cluster of hollyhocks keep watch by a garden walk; here the purple clematis clings to the orchard-hedge. Pictures of flowers such as these, if only the artist have some sense of colour and some refinement of taste, would give a real and almost a new pleasure to us all.

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But there must be no artistic grouping, or representing of things as they should be, rather than as they are. The work must be conscientious, as in the case of a great living sculptor who, having to carve an ivy plant upon a tablet, went himself to study the form of growing ivy, and found how entirely different.

different it is from the conventional wreaths of the ordinary marble-mason.

There is one question in connection with English horticulture, to which at first sight it does not seem quite easy to give a satisfactory answer. Are the flower-shows, the number of which is constantly increasing, an advantage or not? They certainly stimulate the production of magnificent fruit, of beautiful floristflowers, and of handsome stove and greenhouse plants. But how do they affect the gardens in which these prize specimens are grown? It is mere matter of fact that, when a gardener begins to think of exhibiting, he is very apt to pay undue attention to the plants which will secure him prizes and reputation. If his master is satisfied with the usual monotony of garden-beds, why should the gardener give special attention to what can be of no service to himself? So he throws his whole strength into some bunches of grapes, some dozen roses, some trained chrysanthenums. And this is not the worst of it. The 'dressing' of particular blooms has recently become an art, and little curlingirons are employed to get petals into their proper shape, and other various devices are used for various flowers. But there is after all a morality in these things. It is allowable to cut away superfluous petals, but it is not allowable to insert fragments of another blossom. This seems to be the limit. Now we confess the whole system seems to us thoroughly bad, and we recommend the managers of flower-shows to forbid 'dressing' of every kind. If not exactly dishonest in itself, it leads on, and very easily, to the worst forms of dishonesty. But, indeed, in almost every aspect, nothing can be more spoiling to the gardener than these flower-shows so constantly are. the first place, the prize-ticket generally asserts that the prize is adjudged to Mr. -, gardener to . The owner of the garden is nobody, and the gardener is everything. The prize is in almost every case regarded as the unchallenged property of the gardener who has, nevertheless, won the prize by his master's plant, reared at his master's expense, and at the cost of time which has made him too frequently neglect much more important matters.

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Is it any wonder if horticulture in its best sense-that is, the culture of the garden as a whole-is not what it should be? No gardener can get prizes for well-kept beds, for effects of harmonious colouring, for arrangement of shrubberies, for the grouping of herbaceous plants. He is tempted for the sake of a single specimen to sacrifice the beauty of a whole plant, or the clusters of an entire fruit-tree. That it is most important for nurserymen to be able to compare new species, or new varieties

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of old species, is of course undeniable. That our ordinary flower-show is for the ordinary spectator an extremely pretty sight is no less certain. But we are satisfied that in the majority of cases it is the wiser course for any one who really cares about his garden, and would rather have a succession of well-cultured flowers than some merely exceptional success, to discourage his gardener from exhibiting.

In conclusion, we can only repeat that the English flowergarden' may afford far greater pleasure than it does at present. We must learn to look on plants, not as mere points of colour, but as old friends on whose coming we can rely, and who, returning with the recurring seasons, bring back with them pleasant memories of past years. And if, as often happens, they are plants consecrated by song or legend, the imagination is quickened, as surely as the heart is stirred. We must remember, too, that our personal delight in a garden is entirely independent of its size or the perfection of its appliances. A child's garden, such as Mary Howitt once described, a few pots of musk or mignonette on the window-ledge of a schoolboy's study, will afford a pleasure which acres of garden, left only to the gar dener's care, can never give. 'How can I care for this garden? It is so much too large to care about'- -a lady, who owns one of the famous gardens in the north of England, once said to us; and it was impossible not to appreciate the difficulty.

Indeed, as with everything else, the garden will soon grow dull, and the flowers lose their attraction, unless we take the management, partly at least, into our own hands, and be masters not in name but in reality. It is not necessary to understand every matter of detail, though our interest will strengthen as our practical knowledge grows. But at least we may make up our minds as to what we want to have done, and then take care that the gardener carries out our orders. We are too often the absolute slaves of our gardeners, and they in turn (of course we are not speaking of exceptions) are too often the slaves of an unintelligent routine. We have learnt, as Bacon said, 'to build stately sooner than to garden finely, as if gardening were the greater perfection.' It is really about time that we learnt the more difficult lesson.

ART.

ART. III.-Pro-Consul and Tribune. Wellesley and O'Connell. Historic Portraits. In two volumes. Vol. 1, the Marquess Wellesley, Architect of Empire. An Historic Portrait. By W. M. Torrens, M.P. London, 1880.

THE title of this book puzzled us. We were unable even to

guess what affinity or relation of ideas, in the way either of similarity or contrast, existed between the 'Architect of Empire' and the great Agitator, or what had led to this sensational juxtaposition of their names. We turned to the author's Preface for the explanation. It runs thus:

'Of the eminent men whom in earlier years I had many opportunities of closely observing, none seem to me so characteristically representative of the two races so long alienated by evil laws as those whose likeness I have sought to trace in these volumes. The ideas and usages of a dominant caste, taught from childhood to believe themselves indispensable to the maintenance of authority, and alone qualified for the duties and privileges of freedom, have passed away; and with them the mute subjection, the murmuring complaint, deferential remonstrance, partial enfranchisement, and at length organized agitation, by which the two estranged communities were rendered one in the eye of the law. Wellesley and O'Connell, each in his separate way, signally contributed to the gradual revolution which occupied in its accomplishment well-nigh the whole period of their lives, and to which their best efforts were devoted.'

O'Connell's whole career belongs to Ireland. Lord Wellesley's was only partially connected with it; and the only way in which he incidentally contributed to the revolution in question was by his support of Catholic Emancipation and by the liberal policy of his Viceroyalty, which are unanswerable proofs that he was not the characteristic representative of the dominant caste. It would be difficult to name an Irish noble whom the upholders of Protestant ascendency would be less disposed to accept in that capacity, or who was less imbued with their ideas and usages. Admitting the striking dissimilarity in ways of life, habits of thought, and powers of expression between the two, the Preface proceeds and concludes:

'Without flattery or disparagement I wish simply to recal how the illustrious statesman and the unrivalled leader of the people each lived and moved and had his being. As they were seldom in direct contact or antagonism I have had no temptation to resort to antithesis, which, in spite of what is deemed conspicuous success in many wellknown instances, I must be permitted to think fallacious and misleading in historic portraiture.'

O'Connell's name is not so much as mentioned in the volume

before

before us, which comprises the most important period of Lord Wellesley's life. It is agreeably written, despite some faults of style; and a good deal of curious information has been collected and interspersed in it, which attracts the reader for amusement and lightens the labour of research to the more serious student of history. We therefore propose to make it the basis of a sketch (we hardly venture to say, portrait) of one from whom, we think, his fair meed of fame has been unjustly and somewhat unaccountably withheld. If we may trust the historian of British India (Mill), Lord Wellesley was little better than a Brummagem Warren Hastings. If we are to put faith in the Rev. Dr. Gleig, the deservedly popular biographer of his illustrious brother, he was merely the docile agent or instrument of a policy which, according to the shifting judgment of contemporaries, has been made to redound alternately to his glory or his shame. It is right to add that we have derived considerable aid from the Memoirs and Correspondence of the Most Noble Richard Marquess Wellesley' by Mr. Pearce, to whom Mr. Torrens also has been largely indebted.*

The pedigree of the Wellesleighs, Wellesleys, or Wesleys, has been traced back to the twelfth century. Their last representative in the male line was Garret Wesley, who, dying in 1727, devised the family estate of Dangan to his cousin Richard Colley of Castle Carbery, on condition that he should adopt the name and arms of the devisor. This Richard was the father of Garret Wesley, raised to the Irish peerage by the title of Baron Mornington, and principally known to fame as the founder or restorer of an Academy of Music, an art which he cultivated successfully both as a composer and instrumentalist. The part he filled at amateur concerts is thus described by Mr. Torrens :

'Lord Mornington officiated generally as conductor of the orchestra, and prominent among his fellow-fiddlers was Sackville Hamilton, and, pre-eminent for dainty pleasings on the lute, the Lord Lucan of his day. Mrs. Monck and Lady Caroline Russell warbled divinely; while Lady Tyrone matronized the younger vocalists of her sex, as Sappho might have done had she been married to a Beresford of an Earl's degree.'

The image of Sappho, married to a Beresford of an Earl's degree and matronizing the younger vocalists of her sex, original although a somewhat hazardous one.

* Memoirs and Correspondence of the Most Noble Marquess Wellesley, K.P., K.G., D.C.L., &c., &c.' By Robert Rouiere Pearce, Esq. In 3 vols. London, 1846. The faults of Mr. Torrens's style are his use of descriptive or allusive phrases instead of names, in which he out-Gibbons Gibbon, and the confusion of his relatives and antecedents: for example, the he and his in page 5.

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