Our dear and promising young friends, the Pre-Raphaelites, deserve especial commendation for the courage with which they have dared to tell some most disagreeable truths on their canvases this year. Mr. Ruskin was quite right in taking up the cudgels against _The Times_ on this matter. The pictures of the P.R.B. _are_ true, and that's the worst of them. Nothing can be more wonderful than the truth of Collins's representation of the _Alisma Plantago_, _except_ the unattractiveness of the demure lady, whose botanical pursuits he has recorded under the name of CONVENT THOUGHTS.... By the size of the lady's head he no doubt meant to imply her vast capacity of brains--while by the utter absence of form and limb under the robe, he subtly conveys that she has given up all thoughts of making a figure in the world. Mr. Millais's "_Mariana_ in the moated Grange" is obviously meant to insinuate a delicate excuse for the gentleman who wouldn't come--and to show the world the full import of Tennyson's description:-- _then said she, "I am very dreary."_ Anything drearier than the lady, or brighter than her blue velvet robe, it is impossible to conceive. [Illustration: MARIANA IN THE MOATED GRANGE] [Sidenote: _Commercialism in Art_] But Punch _makes_ the _amende_ most handsomely in 1852:-- Before two pictures of Mr. Millais I have spent the happiest hour that I have ever spent in the Royal Academy Exhibition. In those two pictures [_Ophelia_ and _The Huguenot_] I find more loving observation of Nature, more mastery in the reproduction of her forms and colours, more insight into the sentiment of our greatest poet, a deeper feeling of human emotion, a happier choice of a point of interest, and a more truthful rendering of its appropriate expression, than in all the rest of those eight hundred squares of canvas put together. In 1852 _Punch_ singles out, from a wilderness of niggling landscapes and highly-coloured and meretricious upholstery, Watts's "marvellous chalk drawing of Lord John Russell." For the rest,