The practice of painting gardens is almost as modern as that of painting by ladies. The Flemings of the fifteenth century, it is true, introduced in a delightful fashion conventional borders of flowers into some of their pictures, probably because they felt that ornament must be presented from end to end of them, and that in no way could they do this better than by adding the gaiety of flowers to their foregrounds. But all through the later dreary days no one touched the garden, for the conglomeration of flowers in the pieces of the Dutchmen of the seventeenth century cannot be treated as such. Flowers certainly flourished in the gardens of the well-to-do in England in the century between 1750 and 1850, but none of the limners of the drawings of noblemen or of gentlemen's seats which were produced in such quantities during that period ever condescended to introduce them. Even so late as fifty years ago, if we may judge from the titles, the Royal Academy Exhibition of that date did not contain a single specimen of a flower-garden. The only probable one is a picture entitled "Cottage Roses," and any remotely connected with the garden appear under such headings as "Early Tulips," "Geraniums," "Japonicas and Orchids," "Will you have this pretty rose, Mamma?" or "The Last Currants of Summer"! Taste only half a century ago was different from ours, and asked for other provender. Thus, the original owner of the catalogue from which these statistics were taken was an energetic amateur critic, who has commended, or otherwise, almost every picture, commendations being signified by crosses and disapproval by noughts. The only work with five crosses is one illustrating the line, "Now stood Eliza on the wood-crown'd height." On the other hand, Millais' "Peace Concluded" stands at the head of the bad marks with five, his "Blind Girl" with two, which number is shared with Leighton's "Triumph of Music." Holman Hunt's "Scapegoat," in addition to four bad marks, is described as "detestable and profane." These pre-Raphaelites, Millais, Holman Hunt, and their followers, then so little esteemed, may in truth be said to have been the originators of the "garden-drawing cult," chief amongst their followers being Frederick Walker. To the example of the last-named more especially are due the productions of the numerous artists--good, bad, and indifferent--who have seized upon a delightful subject and almost nauseated the public with their productions. The omission of gardens from the painter's _rôle_ in later times may in a measure have been due to the gardens themselves, or, to speak more correctly, to those under whose charge they were maintained. The ideal of a garden to the true artist must always have differed from these as to its ordering, even in these very recent days when the edict has gone forth that Nature is to be allowed a hand in the planning.