Never tiring, when the competition is close, in his keen and patient scrutiny estimating every Rose by a fixed standard, setting down in his note-book, counting, comparing their respective marks of merit and defect, bringing the boxes, if distant, into close proximity, anxiously attentive to the comments of his colleagues, bestowing the same care upon the "cottager's 6" as upon the "nurseryman's 72," he is never satisfied until all doubts are dispelled, and the award of his lips is the sure conviction of his heart.

* So Fuller designates our great Nottinghamshire judge, Markham.

As the judge enters, the exhibitor leaves, the show, first turning to gaze once again upon the exquisite beauty of the scene, the long avenues of Roses, the fairest examples which the world can bring of its most lovely flower. The flat surface of the boxes is pleasingly diversified (or should be) by the stately Palm, the graceful Fern, the elegant Humea, by Croton, Caladium, Dracaena, Coleus, and the like, which not only prevent the uniformity from becoming monotonous, and the repetition wearisome, but soften agreeably that blaze of colour which would be, without such contrast and interruption, too bright for mortal ken. These are placed at regular intervals in the centre of the tables, singly, or in groups. Pretty specimens of the silver-leaved Maple (Acer Negundo variegatum), about 4 feet in height, were thus freely introduced, and with admirable effect, at the last Birmingham Rose-show.

And now there comes for this young lover who has just made, as it were, his proposals to the Rose, a tedious interval, a long suspense, a nervous, restless agitation. The lady has always smiled on him, but what will papa say - i. e., the judge? When next the suitor sees his sweetheart, will she bring with her the written approbation of his suit, even as Miss Wilson returned from the one Professor, her father, to the other Professor, Aytoun, her lover, having a slip of paper pinned upon her dress, and upon that paper the happy words, "With the author's compliments"? When next the exhibitor sees his Roses, will there be a prize-card on his box?

He wonders fretfully. He retires to his hotel. He refreshes the outer and the inner man. What can be the matter with the coffee-room clock 1 how slowly it ticks! how the long hand lags and limps! every minute marked upon the dial might be a pebble upon the grass-plat of the future, blunting the scythe of Time. Will that selfish snob in the corner never put down the newspaper? He will, he does: the exhibitor seizes it eagerly, and reads it, or rather gazes vacantly upon it for nearly a minute and a half. What are money-markets or murders to him 1 Sixteen closely - printed pages, and not one word about Roses! He throws down the Times and looks out of the window. Ah, there is a shop opposite with pictures and photographs; strolls across; has seen them all before; is getting rather sick of photographs; strolls back again; must have been away ten minutes, but coffeeroom clock says three. Selfish snob in corner writing letters with a coolness and equanimity quite disgusting; he looks up and is recognised as rival amateur, proprietor of Pierre Notting; something about him, exhibitor thinks, not altogether pleasing; not a nice expression; shouldn't say he was quite a gentleman.

At last the malignant timepiece, having tardily announced the meridian, with a minim rest between the notes, as though it were a passing bell tolled in Lilliput, and having disputed every inch of the succeeding hour, is compelled to give up its match against time, and the exhibitor hears the thrilling sound which proclaims the Rose-show open. He gives his best hat a final brush; he adjusts for the last time the pretty Rose in his coat (be still, throbbing heart beneath 1); and back he goes to his fate. He presents at the door his exhibitor's pass; and then "affecting to be unaffected," but nervous as a girl at her first ball, he wends his anxious way to his Roses.

What shall he find there - defeat or victory? Shall the music of the band express to his ears the gladness of his spirit, the triumph of his hope, or shall "Sharp violins proclaim Their jealous pangs and desperation," in unison with his own? Let him be prepared for either issue. Let him anticipate defeat, as being but a recruit and pupil; but let him remember, when defeated, that more than one great statesman has been plucked for little-go - more than one great general has lost his first battle - more than one Royal Academician has had his first picture declined by the hanging-committee. If victory comes, let him never forget that she only stays with the meek. Where success brings pride, then, as Lamb writes in a Latin letter to Cary, commutandum est he! he! he! cum heu! heu I lieu I and all men shall laugh at the braggart's fall.

In prosperity or in adversity, abroad or at home, let him never bore his friends about Roses. Let him remember Heliogabalus! At a magnificent banquet he caused Rose-leaves to be showered in such profusion on his guests that several were suffocated, and died in aromatic pain.

Again I say let the exhibitor enter the show, and leave it, with a wise, thankful, trustful heart!

"Who misses or who wins the prize, Go, lose or conquer as you can; But if you fail, or if you rise, Be each, pray God, a gentleman! "