Pot-pourri from a Surrey garden

Then we went back to the St. George, and enjoyed it for ten minutes. Perhaps we shall never see again its exquisite beauty — the little hands that express so much feeling ; the sad, gentle face, almost mourning over the worthlessness of human greatness, though the dead dragon lies coiled about his feet, and the princess is to be his bride ! Look at the cross-handled sword, and the helmet, and the armour, and think of all it means, in these days of cheap work, to put all that is here into one small figure, which is, after all, only a portion of a railing TT2 292 POT-POURRI FROM A SURREY GARDEN round a dead young prince's effigy, to be hidden away for ever in a cool, dim chapel. We who studied the little statuette are not likely to forget it, for, as a poet said of his friend : — . . . Some, in whom such images are strong, Have hoarded the impression in their heart, Fancy's fond dreams and memory's joys among, Like some loved relic of romantic song, Or cherished masterpiece of ancient art. As we passed back into the picture rooms we were pleased to see that Lord Leighton's last work apparently gains so immensely by being unfinished ; and it is in the manner of his youth rather than of his age, rich and harmonious in colour, passionate in sentiment — to be looked at by those who knew him, this ideal President of our Academy of Painting, with ' thoughts which only upon tears can rise.' Far the most striking portraits in the Academy are, alas! by non-Englishmen — Mr. Sar- gent, who is an American, and M. Benjamin Constant, who is a Frenchman. Mr. Sargent's 'Portrait of a Lady ' is surely consummate : the painting of the pearls, the smart, bright-coloured cape, are not to be beaten by Vandyck at his best ; and oh ! how far beyond any effort even of the old masters is the sad pathos of that interest- ing nineteenth-century face ! Can we look at it and not say with Balzac, ' Les drames de la vie ne sont pas dans les circonstances, Us sont dans le cceur ' ? It seems rather the fashion not to admire Mr. Chamberlain's por- trait, and it is not quite so finished, especially the hands, as one would wish — doubtless for want of time being given for the sittings; all the same, it is a grand portrait of a history-making Late Victorian statesman, and will be looked at with reverent curiosity by the student of the future. And now we pass on through two or three rooms, A DAY IN LONDON 293 avoiding what we do not like -when not able to fix our eyes on what we do, which is the acquired knack of the habitual haunter of galleries and exhibitions, and sit down quietly to study Mr. Abbey's most remarkable picture of Richard, Duke of Gloucester, and the Lady Anne. Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ? Was ever woman in this humour won ?