The assemblage--not brilliant, but genial, pleasant, and happy--was as refreshing to the eye as the first glimpse of the vernal flowers; and the pictures hung upon the walls and screens, and laid upon the tables, were, in more senses than one, a feast to the mind almost without alloy. For my own part, I felt so joyful, I could not help fluttering my wings, shaking my feathers, and flitting about from one place to another, chirping, chatting, and pecking lovingly about this pretty thing, and at that old friend, till long after my usual time of going to roost. And when I did at last tear myself away and fly home, I could not help exclaiming, Well, there never was a pleasanter evening nor a nicer exhibition in the whole history of the Society! But I could not sleep; I put my head under my wing, shook my feathers, and tried to settle into the most comfortable and cosy positions, but it was no use. The pretty landscapes and pleasing portraits I had seen shone brighter and brighter before me; I was compelled to mentally review them; and here follows the result of my incubations. My first thoughts were to work the pleasures of the evening by a kind of rule-of-three process, by considering the value of the landscapes and portraits exhibited, to arrive at the worth of the exhibition; but not so much in a money point of view, as in the merits of the works, and their probable influences on the workers. Taking the landscape portion of the exhibition as first in the order into which I had mentally catalogued the pictures, it was an easy and delightful thing to skim over such a vast extent of this world's surface that evening. To journey to and from the glens of Scotland, the dales of England and Wales, the lakes of Ireland, the mountains of the Tyrol, to Abyssinia and the famous heights of Magdala, was but the work of a few minutes, thanks to the purveyors of that mental banquet. But to do full justice to the exhibitors I must endeavour to enumerate their principal works, and comment thereon with the utmost impartiality. Most unquestionably the gems of the landscape portion of the exhibition were eight exquisite little pictures by Mr. Russell Manners Gordon, affording unmistakable proof of what the gum-gallico dry process is capable of yielding in his hands. It is almost, if not quite, equal to the wet process for detail and delicacy. This is particularly noticeable in the view of Carnarvon Castle. Indeed, Mr. Bedford's picture of the same subject--which, I presume, is by the wet process--on the other side of the screen, contrasts rather unfavourably with it. Mr. Gordon's selection of his point of sight, and general treatment of that subject alone, are unmistakable proofs of his refined taste and feeling for the art capabilities of landscape photography. The wet collodion pictures by Mr. Gordon are also beautiful examples of the art. His cottages with sheep browsing in the foreground, which is an instantaneous picture, is