uous down-grade, combined with our fears of a late arrival for déjeuner, encouraged such a lively pace that we rushed into Pelisanne before we could believe the necessary distance had been covered. Here a belfry with iron top and a curious group of church buildings detained us only a short time, for the pangs of hunger prevented a just appreciation of what seemed to be quite ordinary medieval work. Pushing on around the church, which stands directly in the way of the present main road, we hurried on to Salon, where, after enquiring the way of a local bicyclist, we arrived at the Grand Hôtel, late, but welcome to all the house afforded. Iced siphon, good local wine, and a generous dinner soon repaid us for our forced pedalling, but, sad to say, took away all ambition for the long afternoon trip originally planned. Tired muscles, once relaxed, recover slowly; and our hot morning ride seemed discipline enough for that time. Yet our original plan was to reach Arles before night, that we might be ready for the entertainment promised for the Fourteenth, the French Fourth of July. An afternoon train was naturally the first suggestion. The map afternoon train over this chemin de fer régional left Salon at about six, and arrived at Arles about nine in the evening, taking three hours to drag its coaches and stone-laden cars over the twenty-eight intervening miles. The only alternative at first seemed to be the straight national road; but, as we had had enough of national routes for that day, it was decided to see Salon in an hour's walk and ride, and then meet the through express at Miramas, some six miles away to the south. Starting at once to see the twelfth-century doorway at Saint Michel, we found the Romanesque portal less interesting than the older door at Aix, and then pounded away over the rough stone pavements to visit the northern section and the collegiate church of Saint Laurent. With the exception of the lower stories of the old tower, Saint Laurent dates from the time of Jean de Cordonne, Archbishop of Arles, who in 1344 built the plain church that to-day is the only survivor of several monastic buildings. The place is now famous as the tomb of Michel Nostradamus, the Provençal astrologer, who resided at Salon for years, and gained a reputation for prophecy and learning that made him adviser to Catherine de' Medici and doctor to Charles IX. Since this church offered little of special architectural interest, except the fragment of the older building now under the picturesque south tower, we returned to the central part of the town, and, passing the fine old gateway and clock-tower, started along the road to Arles. Place du Forum, Arles. showed a railroad through Eyguieres, Paradou and Fontvielle, towns that we had hoped to visit, on the northern edge of the great plain; but consultation with our landlord brought out the sad fact that the 1 Continued from No. 1279, page 101. Place de la Republique, Arles. Fortunately, our route to Miramas turned off to the south, after a few Carte de la France show the distance between the cities to be about rods of very indifferent riding. The Salon and Arles sections of the twenty-four miles, with eleven miles in an absolutely straight east and west line, that follows the north bank of the Langlade canal modern village of Miramas-Gare only in time to buy tickets to Arles, to pay our ten centimes for bicycles, put our wheels on board, Pier in Cloister: St. Trophime Arles. and hurriedly find places in the crowded train. Many times during no longer affords room for the 26,000 people who applauded the that ride we congratulated ourselves on the change in plan, even though we had omitted the towns on the southern slope of the Alpilles. Taking saddle again at the Arles station, we passed through the open avenues of the Jardin de la Cavalerie to the towers of the city gates, when we were at once in the narrow, tortuous streets of the medieval city. Arles is not known for its late buildings, though, by walking its roughly paved ways, many good sixteenthcentury houses are to be found. To the student, and even the casual visitor, the Roman and Romanesque monuments are of far greater interest, for Arles has to-day some of the best examples of ancient building and sculpture to be found in Europe. Fortunately, several hours of daylight remained after our quarters were secured in the Place du Forum; and we hurried to catch a first glimpse of the famous buildings we were to study in detail later on. Leaving bags unpacked and wheels uncleaned, we tramped from the hotel, past the unknown fragment of Roman architecture at the head of the Place du Forum. However, as we were to pass that way many times, we did not stop to examine closely its broken pediment and columns, but continued through the Rue des Arènes to the great amphitheatre. A Corner of the Cloister: St. Trophime, Arles. To-day, as in the days of Augustus and Constantine, this huge Roman ruin is the centre of Arlesian life and interest. Thanks to conquerors in the old gladiatorial days. The Arena is now used for less sanguinary entertainments; and the courses de taureaux, held almost every Sunday during the summer season, are attended with unabated interest. Large crowds, even, come to see the bloodless, free-for-all sports occasionally offered, when prizes are given to the citizens who succeed in tearing away the barbed rosettes from the shoulders of wild young heifers and bulls. Not attempting to enter the great enclosure, which we expected to examine thoroughly after the bullfight of the morrow, we walked along the side of the huge elliptical wall, studied the peculiar construction of its stone arches, and tried to imagine the appearance of the whole, when arches, columns and mouldings were in their originally complete state. The building was partly destroyed by use as fortress and stronghold by Goths, Saracens and mediaval warriors. Previous to 1830, also, the interior was filled with houses of the poorest class. Yet the endless arcades, even in ruined form, seem to tell of far greater enterprises and ambitions than those of wild invaders or local chiefs, and by simple dignity alone recall the might and power of imperial Rome. From the south of the Arena to the picturesque ruins of the Theatre is only a short distance. We were soon looking into the meagre ruins from the raised ground at the rear of the stage. Evidently, the Theatre was the artistic centre of ancient Arles; for the two columns of African or Carrara marble still standing in place, the carved fragments of the stage walls, as well as the numerous sculp tures and decorations now in the Museum, all show details and motives of the best imperial epoch. Here also was found one of the treasures of the Louvre, the famous Venus of Arles. As a whole, the Theatre is now so ruined that it seems hardly possible that some 1,600 people could once be accommodated within its walls; but even in its dismantled state the fragments on the spot and the sculptures of the museums show without possibility of denial that this building was one of the most artistic creations of the Roman emperors. Though surrounded by house-walls that are far from picturesque, it still possesses an air of Greek elegance and refinement seldom seen in Roman work. From the Theatre we passed through the little crooked Rue du Cloitre, showing in its upper part the Gothic entrance to the cloisters of the Cathedral, and then, after passing the walls of the old Bishop's Palace, found ourselves in the Place de la République and before the chef-d'œuvre of French Romanesque sculpture, the porch of Saint Trophime. Provençal tradition has it that Saint Trophime was sent to Arles by Saint Peter himself, and that he built the first church on the site of the Roman prætorium. However that may be, it is known that a portion of the present church was consecrated in the year 606, and that the portal and part of the cloister were erected in the twelfth century, possibly by the famous crusader Raymond IV, Count of Toulouse and St. Gilles. The porch seems to have been erected shortly after 1152, when the sacred bones of Saint Trophime were removed from the great burial-ground of the Aliscamps and placed in the Cathedral. The portal is simple in general form, but was intended to express far more than an ordinary stone entrance. Its deep recess, its wide frieze, and sculptured panels present a picture of the last judgment with a vigor and realism that only firm belief and loving regard could produce. The central figure of Christ seated in judgment, surrounded by the symbols of the four apostles and a double arch of angels, fills the upper part. Immediately below is a broad frieze of figures, portraying the twelve apostles with a group of saints on one side and the punishment of condemned sinners on the other. The entire frieze is so designed that rhythmic action and architectural effect are preserved in a remarkable degree. Below are short columns, resting on the backs of grotesque animals; while in the square niches formed between these columns stand large statues of saints, separated and enriched by bands of conventional ornament. The figure of Saint Trophime in bishop's costume is perhaps the most interesting of these large sculptures. The great importance of this decorative composition was evidently appreciated when first designed; for it is raised on a simple basement approached by a broad flight of steps, an arrangement which gives great dignity to the whole composition. In the dim recesses of the nave the plain stone vault and walls could hardly be distinguished in the late afternoon light, but we could see that the monastic simplicity of its barren spaces was quite in accord with the nave of the old church at Aix which we had visited earlier in the day. Passing through the dark aisles, we climbed a long flight of wide steps, and came at once into the quiet enclosure of the cloisters, famous for their symbolical carvings and picturesque architecture. Here the constructive and decorative arts are happily combined. But the fading light prevented more than a walk around the vaulted passages and a rapid glance at the bold carvings of the corner piers. So, arranging with the old concierge that we should return the next day to listen to his quaint stories of the saints and heroes under his charge, we stumbled out through the dark church, and, after turning a corner or two, took refuge for the night in our hotel. WASHINGTON, THE CITY BEAUTIFUL. T is always interesting to read the histories of great cities, little worlds within themselves, which have so much to do with important events all along the line of human thought and progress. And to the studious and investigating mind, it is profit and pleasure to trace the structural history of a large city, as far as possible. As a comparatively slow grower the capital of the United States, Washington, may be considered as a fair example. This now beautiful city will in 1900 celebrate the removal, in 1800, of the seat of government from Philadelphia to its present home. Congress convened for the first time in Washington on November 22d of the latter year date, but some time before this the future Capitol had been planned and had begun, in a very small way, its architectural progress, but the "city," at that early date of its existence, was principally on paper and under vegetation." We get a fair idea of the city at that time from the following, written by a member of the Sixth Congress : "Our approach to the city [Washington] was accompanied with sensations not easily described. . . . Instead of recognizing the avenues and streets portrayed in the plan of the city, not one was visible, unless we except a road with two buildings on each side of it, called New Jersey Avenue. The Pennsylvania Avenue, leading, as laid down on paper, from the Capitol to the President's mansion, alder-bushes, which were cut through the width of the intended was then, nearly the whole distance, a deep morass covered with avenue during the ensuing winter. "Between the President's house and Georgetown a block of houses had been erected, which then bore (and do now bear) the name of the Six Buildings. There were also two other blocks, consisting of two or three dwelling-houses in different directions, and now and then an isolated wooden habitation; the intervening spaces, and, indeed, the surface of the city generally, being covered with shrub-oak bushes on the higher ground, and on marshy soil with either trees or some sort of shrubbery. Nor was the desolate aspect of the place a little augmented by a number of unfinished edifices at Greenleaf's Point. . . . There appeared to be but two really comfortable houses in all respects within the bounds of the city, one of which belonged to Daniel Carroll, and the other to Notely Young. "A sidewalk was attempted in one instance by a covering formed of the chips of the stones which had been hewed for the Capitol. It extended but a little way and was of little value; for in dry weather the sharp fragments cut our shoes, and in wet weather covered them with mortar. In short, it was a new settlement." the territory given by that State to help make the District of ColumBefore the ceding back to Virginia of a considerable portion of bia, the latter was ten miles square, including in its periphery a part of the Potomac River. This broad stream now forms the western (Virginia) boundary of the District, while the northern, eastern and southern boundaries stretch to the Maryland line, the whole encompassing an area of about seventy square miles. When President Washington, with Major Pierre Charles l'Enfant, surveyor, and Andrew Ellicott, on March 29th, 1791, rode over the ten miles square," on a tour of inspection of the site selected for the capital, the land for the latter was occupied principally by farms, although two subdivisions - Carrollburgh and Hamin the western part of the future city's site) in 1770 and 1771, respectively. Among these farms were those of Daniel Carroll, Notely Young and David Burns, who owned a large portion of the land upon which the city now stands. And refuge it really was; for the night before the Fourth, or rather the Fourteenth, had already begun, and only adventurous spirits dared to brave the dynamite crackers and serpents that exploded in unexpected places or chased the daring pedestrian with a fiendishness and velocity that defied resistance or escape. The practical joker was abroad; and nothing suited better than the filling of an open shop with countless sparks and deafening explosions or the scattering of quiet café groups by means of the erratic serpent. Every man was an enemy for the time being. Shutters were closed, doors barricaded, and only blank walls exposed to the wandering fire-burgh, both without improvements - had been laid out (the latter works that shot around the Place du Forum. At last, after venturing out a short way, the risk of burnt clothes and singed hair drove even Americans within doors; and we retired for the night with visions of the entertainment promised for the morrow the military parade, the entry of the bulls, the bull-fight, the evening concert, dance on the boulevard, and costumes of les Arlésiennes-sadly confused with the towns and buildings we had seen during the day. Three days spent in sketching and tramping around Arles failed to exhaust its architectural treasures; and the hours spent in drawing the details of the cloister and the fine fragments in the Museum went quickly by. But, although we visited many interesting sections in our journey up the Rhône valley, across the Cevennes, and down the Loire and Seine to Paris, our first day among the old Provençal towns was unique, because the unexpected and the unforeseen combined most happily to give us one of the busiest and most instructive days of our summer tour.-E. B. Homer, in the Technology Review. January 1, 1900. There is little record of the farmhouses of the two former of comfortable houses" in all respects' these "original citizens,"- -as quoted above, they were the most seen in Washington just after its founding but, until five or six years ago, the ancient domicile of David Burns could be seen, at the foot of 17th street, near the river. It sat amidst old trees in spacious, brick-walled grounds, which also contained (and still contain) the Van Ness mansion, built by General John P. Van Ness, who married Burns's daughter, Marcia. When the old Scotchman (Burns) was persuaded by President Washington to sell the greater portion of his property-consisting of about six hundred acres, and extending east from directly south of the White House to the Patent Office site-his beautiful daughter became heir to a great deal of money. In 1802 her father died, after which she married the handsome and dashing Van Ness, then a Member of Congress from New York. He was a high liver, believed in progress, and, with part of his wife's wealth, built the big house spoken of above. This now weather-beaten, but still solid, old structure was in its day one of the finest mansions in the United States, and, of course, one of the most expensive. Its hospitality was famous; wealth, wit, and beauty gathered there, time flew by to the sound of music and dancing, and the old Scotchman's dollars paid for feasts that were of the highest order in those days of feasting and merrymaking. The Van Ness mansion was the first in this country in which both hot and cold water were carried by pipe to all the chambers. In its basement were the largest and coolest wine-vaults, and in one of these, it is said, President Lincoln was to have been concealed had the original intentions of the conspirators, by whom he was assassinated, been carried out. The house cost $75,000, and the plans for it were drawn by Latrobe, then architect of the Capitol. The excellence and beauty of the plan of Washington is due more to the engineering genius of the old Frenchman, Major l'Enfant, than to any other. In this he followed the work of Le Notre in Versailles, the seat of the French Government buildings. The streetplan, as carried out, divides the city into quarters, known as Northwest, Northeast, Southwest and Southeast. The Capitol was to be considered the centre of the city, and radiating from it are North, South and East Capitol Streets. These, with a line of parks, running west from the Capitol, form the dividing lines. The streets run in cardinal directions, and with these are the avenues, which run diagonally, and which bear the names of various States, principally of the original thirteen. At the intersection of streets and avenues are many small parks and triangular spaces, not a few of which contain statues standing amidst beautiful foliage, and two of the parks Lafayette and Franklin are very large, occupying whole squares. - From the grand scale upon which L'Enfant drew the plan of Washington, it is evident that he was looking into the future with prophetic eye, believing that in time a very queen among the cities of the world would sit in all her present grace and beauty on the banks of the historic Potomac. And so he bent his clever mind to the task, and endeavored to carry out, as far as possible, the scheme of making a city, as conceived by him. His was a forcible charac ter, not easily daunted by obstacles, a fact amply attested in his treatment of an "original citizen," who, after he had sold his land to the Government for use as part of the capital, tried to obstruct progress in the latter. This man was the Daniel Carroll already mentioned. After his land was disposed of at good profit, he determined to erect an imposing brick mansion, which he did without reference to the future thoroughfares of the coming city. Some time after the house was built, L'Enfant came along with his surveying outfit and found that Mr. Carroll had put his new domicile right in the middle of New Jersey avenue, as only a short time before work was begun on the house-laid down on the engineer's map. Without hesitating, L'Enfant ordered Carroll to get his property out of the street. At this, "Daniel Carroll, of Duddington," a mighty man of those days, told the engineer to run his avenue in another direction, and refused to comply with the request. And so matters, rested, until one night, not long after the meeting of the two strong-willed men, the Carroll house was, at L'Enfant's order, taken out of the way of the avenue. Shortly after this the famous old engineer lost his position under Government, and Mr. Carroll had his house erected at public expense in another place in the city. It will be seen from the foregoing that very little architectural progress was made in the building of the City Beautiful up to the time of commencing the Capitol. A portion of the district, which is now a part of the city (Georgetown, West Washington), was a city in itself long before the District of Columbia was thought of; but when Rock Creek, which once divided the two cities, was crossed, going eastward, the city of Washington - when its greatest structure was begun began in a forest and ended on all sides pretty much in the same condition. DE FRIEZE. VAN DYCK AT THE ROYAL ACADEMY. - III. N this third and concluding paper will be briefly noticed the works belonging to Van Dyck's English period, 1632-1642, in which may be placed many of the best and not a few of the worst paintings in the late Exhibition. Among these latter are several which bear his name, a fact tending to prove their unauthenticity; since Van Dyck so seldom signed his pictures that only some fifteen or twenty are believed to bear his genuine signature; in all other cases where it exists it has been added by another hand. About one thousand works are attributed to him, and undoubtedly he worked with amazing rapidity; but in his studio he was largely assisted by pupils, two of whom were really good artists named David Beck and John de Reyn, his fellow-country men. Their taste and ability he cultivated so highly that their works could with difficulty be distinguished from his own. They were well remunerated, and remained with their master until his death; making many copies for him to which he would add here and there a touch. Reyn, though a fine artist, was too timid to stand alone, and gladly remained in obscurity. While speaking of Van Dyck's studio, it may be mentioned that he kept by him a Fleming who made for many of these English pictures beautifully carved frames in the Italian style, so contrived as to cast no shadow on the painting they surround. Turning to the undoubtedly genuine works, among the earliest is the unquestioned masterpiece lent by His Majesty the Czar to the Antwerp Exhibition last year, and graciously sent thence to Burlington House" Philip, Lord Wharton." This canvas, 40" x 52", is inscribed "S Ant. Vandike, Philip, Lord Wharton, 1632, about ye Age of 19." It is in a high state of preservation, even for the pictures housed in the Hermitage, St. Petersburg, and has only been mellowed by time, and one can scarcely believe it to be nearly three centuries old. Delicacy joined with manly dignity are well depicted in this charming three quarter-length portrait. Over his olive-green doublet is slung a golden-brown cloak; in the fingers of his left hand he holds a staff, terminating at the top in three prongs. In the "Hermitage” catalogue this staff has been called "an implement of agriculture" and "an implement of war." This picture, exquisite alike in its composition, in the winsome grace of the young man, and in its subdued coloring and high finish, has irresistibly charmed all beholders. The Wharton collection of family portraits, including those of Charles I and his Queen, especially painted for the young nobleman, was purchased by Sir Robert Walpole, afterwards Lord Houghton, whose son Horace says he "paid a hundred pounds for the full-lengths, and fifty for the half-lengths," and calls it "the noblest school of painting which the kingdom ever beheld,” regretting that "it was removed almost out of sight of civilized Europe." This collection was valued at £40,555, but the Empress Catherine of Russia gave only £36,000, and was so disgusted at having to pay so much that the cases in which the pictures were packed were never opened during her lifetime. Lord Wharton was a zealous Puritan and a strong supporter of Cromwell. He was thrice married, and died in 1695, at the age of eighty-two. During the early part of Van Dyck's residence in England his time was much occupied with portraits of the Royal Family, as in private galleries there exist seven equestrian and seventeen full or half lengths of Charles, and twenty-seven of Henrietta Maria, not to mention the numerous canvases on the Continent. His truthfulness in portraiture was unexpectedly verified by Sir Henry Halford, who attended at the exhumation of the remains of Charles I, at Windsor. He told a friend that the head was exactly like Van Dyck's portraits. Among the royal portraits is one of the king and queen lent by the Duke of Grafton, in which both figures are charming, though the composition lacks cohesion. Charles wears a red suit, richly embroidered with white, and a broad lace collar; his left hand rests on his sword, the right being extended to take the wreath offered him by the Queen, who is dressed in her favorite white, with cherry-colored ribbons, and holds a spray of green in her left hand. As in nearly all her portraits, Her Majesty wears the famous pearl necklace, which cost the King an enormous sum. In this portrait one has an opportunity of contrasting the stronger and more self-reliant character of Henrietta Maria with the weak and deceitful one of Charles. The Queen's French vivacity and bright eyes give an impression of beauty with which she was not really endowed, and it is said that it was to hide the thinness of her hair that she wore it in those little curls round her forehead so familiar to us. The most charming, probably, of all her portraits is that lent by Lord Lansdowne, in which the brilliant flesh-tints and the pearl-white satin dress form a scheme of color which Van Dyck seldom surpassed. From the bracelet on the Queen's arm is suspended a ring; this picture was sold at Christie's in 1842 for 500 guineas, having been brought from Italy two years before. As a fine example of dramatic and intellectual composition, the double portrait of "Killigrew and Carew," from Windsor Castle, stands almost unrivalled. Killigrew was the son of the Queen's Chamberlain and Page to the King; he accompanied Charles II in his exile and was made Groom of the Bedchamber after the Restoration; he wrote several plays. Carew was a Gentleman of the Privy Chamber and also wrote many sonnets, besides a masque which was performed at Whitehall in 1663. Both figures are dressed in black with white slashings, and are seated at a table. Killigrew has a peevish expression. Carew, with his back to the spectator, is showing a paper to his companion. These two wits had a famous dispute before Mrs. Cecelia Crofts, to which it is supposed the picture alludes. The artist was interested in his subject and evidently dashed it off at "No assistant has touched these delicately modelled faces, these wonderful hands, or even the draperies, into the execution of which the painter has put his whole strength." once. This picture was acquired from a dealer early in the last century by Frederic, Prince of Wales, from whose collection it passed into that of his grandson, George III. Pepys, in his diary, 1667, says "Tom Killigrew hath a fee out of the wardrobe, for cap and bells under the title of King's foole or jester and may revile and jeere anybody, the greatest person, without offence." In another work from Windsor, we have the portraits of George and Francis Villiers, sons of the favorite of James I, whom he created Duke of Buckingham, and who was murdered by Felton. This canvas, 49" x 59", is one of Van Dyck's child-pictures, in which he showed himself both sympathetic and masterly. The two boys stand in a very natural attitude, facing the spectator; the young duke in crimson dress, his crimson cloak hanging over his right arm and Francis in yellow, his gloved right hand held against his breast, his left hanging at his side. The long hair falls over their wide lace collars. This picture and it was he who brought over the famous Arundel marbles, not to mention Van Dyck himself, whom he introduced to King Charles I, and who became the founder of the English school of portrait painting. The portrait of the Countess of Arundel shows a sensible, straightforward woman, wearing white satin and pearls, and with a fur boa on her shoulders. It is remarkable that among all the married women whose portraits adorn these galleries only one wears a wedding-ring, not excepting Queen Henrietta Maria. was painted in 1635, when Van Dyck was at the zenith of his fame. His price for it was £200, but when the time for payment came, the King was so straitened as to be obliged to cut it down one-half. After the murder of their father, Charles I promised his widow that he would be a father to them, and had the boys brought up with his own children at Hampton Court. During Charles's imprisonment at Carisbrooke Castle, these enthusiastic youths got up a rising in his behalf, but were utterly outnumbered and routed in a lane between Surbiton and Kingston, Surrey. Francis, the "beautiful Lord Francis," set his back against a tree, and, neither asking nor receiving quarter, fell with nine wounds in his face and body. The oak is "In Van Dyck's portraits one cannot but note an extraordinary his monument, and bears his initials to this day. His brother, the sense of the dignity and manliness, above all, of the intelligence and Duke, escaped and became the favorite of Charles II, being distin-high breeding of his men; whether they were weak and obstinate guished for his wit as for his profligacy. His name is indicated by the middle letter of the word Cabal" used to designate the infamous Cabinet of Charles II, of which Buckingham was a member; and he himself, under the character of Zimri, in Dryden's "Absalom and Ahithophel," is described as "a man so various that he seemed to be, not one, but all mankind's epitome: "Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by turns and nothing long; and died at last in an obscure village in Holland, "In the worst inn's worst room. . . The George and Garter dangling from the bed." There is a beautiful portrait of the Duke's sister, "The Duchess of Richmond and her dwarf, Mrs. Gibson," the wife of the famous dwarf artist; Henrietta Maria is also represented with a dwarf, Sir Geoffrey Hudson, who, when seven years old and thirty inches high, was served up in a pie, and presented to the Queen by the Duke of Buckingham. It is a capital picture; the Queen wearing an unbecoming black hat and a turquoise-blue dress; the grotesque figure of the dwarf is in crimson, and he has a monkey on his shoulder, which the Queen touches with the tips of her fingers. Of "James Stuart, son of Esmé, Duke of Lennox," there are a half-length and two full-length portraits. In the first he is represented as "Paris," holding an apple, and wearing a white shirt and crimson breeches, with the usual long hair of the time. He had probably taken the part in a masque. This is, doubtless, the picture mentioned by Evelyn when in May, 1654, he visited "one Mr. Tombs' house and saw some good pictures, especially one of Van Dyck's, being a man in his shirt." 66 In the second, the Duke is in black satin, wearing the blue ribbon of the Garter, a star being on the black cloak over his arm. He is similarly attired in the later picture, except that he wears blue stockings and immense black rosettes on his shoes. He is here seen caressing his greyhound, which saved him from assassination while travelling in Savoy. The profound devotion shown in the dog's face could not have been surpassed by Landseer. There is great dignity and high breeding in these two paintings, and in each one cannot but notice the cruel and relentless mouth. Lord Darnley's "Lord John and Lord Bernard Stuart" (younger brothers of the Duke of Lennox), and Earl Spenser's Digby, Earl of Bristol, and Earl of Bedford," are two splendid double portraits, which afford examples of what Van Dyck could do when painting high-born youths clad in all the bravery of the time. The two Lords Stuart wear yellow and white satin doublets, respectively; the younger brother has thrown his blue cloak back over his arm to display the superb lining of cloth of silver. The whole effect is very brilliant. Both these young men were killed fighting for the King in the Parliamentary War. In the Earl of Bristol we see the famous George Digby, who advised the seizure of the five members, for which he was afterwards impeached by the House of Commons, while the Earl of Bedford fought on the Parliamentary side and ultimately went over to Charles I at Oxford. The countenances of both these men show that they would stick at nothing. Three portraits of the Earl of Strafford are exhibited. In two of them he is dressed in armor-in painting which Van Dyck excelled - and holds a bâton. His watchword, "Thorough," is "writ large on every feature of his keen and thoughtful face. and not to be depended upon, as Charles, or stern as Strafford; treacherous and fickle as Vitelleschi, Chief of the Jesuits; loyal, like the Duke of Richmond and Lennox, they lack nothing that marks a gentleman." The late Duke of Devonshire remarked to a celebrated critic that "the companionship of a number of Van Dycks was an education for a gentleman." Van Dyck lived very extravagantly, and at the last, in order to restore his fortunes, he not only painted more pictures than he could really do justice to, but wasted time, health and money in the vain search for the philosopher's stone, and the hours spent in the fumes of the laboratory injured still more his weakened constitution. In the hope that he would settle down if he were married, the King and other friends looked about for a suitable lady, who was found in Maria Ruthven, who was attached to the Queen's household, and was the granddaughter of Earl Gowrie. She was beautiful and nobly connected, and her dowry was kindly provided by the King. Two disappointments soon after this, with regard to decorating Whitehall and the Louvre, gave the finishing blow to Van Dyck's already impaired health. His friends at court were scattered or dead, the Queen was in France, the country in arms, his friend Strafford had perished on the scaffold, while he himself was an object of suspicion, and it is little wonder that Van Dyck was stretched on a bed of sickness from which he never rose, although Charles sent his own physicians, promising them a fee of £300 if they cured him. He died the ninth of December, 1641, at the early age of forty-two, at his house in Blackfriars. He was followed by a number of friends to his grave in old St. Paul's, close to that of John of Gaunt. Archdeacon Sinclair states, in a recent letter, that "this was the origin of the burial of Presidents of the Royal Academy and other great Academicians in Artists' Corner in the present building. Any monument to Van Dyck perished in the fire of 1666, and there is no tablet or record of the great painter in the modern Cathedral. The fact of his interment is, therefore, unknown to the crowds who daily throng St. Paul's." The following lines were written on his death by the poet Cowley: "His pieces so with their live objects strive, A daughter was born just eight days after he died, and it is grati fying to know that neither she nor her mother fell into poverty. Charles II granted a pension of £200 to Van Dyck's daughter. A TWO RUSKIN HALLS. DISPATCH from London last week announced that delegates representing organized labor in England had sailed for New York for the purpose of presenting to the labor associations of America £4,000 to be used toward the erection of a Ruskin Hall in St. Louis. The movement is a result of a desire on the part of the English followers of Ruskin to show their appreciation of the action of Americans, eighteen months ago, in founding a Ruskin Hall at Oxford. The delegates are accredited with resolutions expressing the hope that a better understanding and a warmer friendship will exist between the "two English-speaking democracies." St. Louis has been selected as the site for the proposed hall, because it is the home of Walter Vrooman, the founder of the Oxford institution. These delegates are due to arrive in New York within a day or two. Some account of Ruskin Hall in Oxford will therefore be interesting. One is just to hand from The London Times, which says: The movement has in it a large measure of vitality, to judge by its official publications, and clientèle generally. The opening meet "The mysterious, uncandid expression, the refinement and dignity which make partial amends for it," are perfectly rendered in Lord Fitzwilliam's full-length portrait of him. The well-known "Strafford and his Secretary, Sir William Mainwaring," in which the Earling was held some fifteen months ago, and there are now over 1,500 stands with a letter in his hand, dictating to his secretary, who intently follows his master's words, was considered by Horace Walpole to be Van Dyck's finest work, though many critics hold it to be somewhat deficient in "momentariness." The painting has been much injured in "restoration." It is said that Van Dyck was very intimate with Strafford, and painted more portraits of him than of any other man in England, except the King. The Earl of Arundel, Van Dyck's patron, is naturally well represented in this exhibition. His refined, artistic face is very pleasing among so many of the reckless, dare-devil type, and has been treated both sympathetically and lovingly by the painter. The finest portrait is that lent by the Duke of Norfolk, in which the Earl is represented in armor softened by the large white collar. In another, Arundel rests his hand on the shoulder of his little grandson, dressed in red. This nobleman was the first in England to form an art collection, students on its books. These are scattered in small groups all over the country, and its leaders appear to have infused into the movement something of the emotional intensity that is more characteristic of religious than of educational organizations. It remains to be seen how long this enthusiasm will last, and, what is more important, how far it touches the more solid elements in the class to which it is addressed. The college proposes to teach the broad outlines of English history, and in particular the history of political and social institutions. Industrial history, trade unionism, the co-operative movement these are some of the courses offered that have an obvious interest for the industrial classes. An endeavor to spread an elementary conception of scientific historical perspective among the rank and file of the industrial army is one which, if successful in any measure, should contribute something to guide the social endeavors of the |