the walls were many sculptures, fresh from the hand of Phidias, friezes and metopes, representing in a wonderful series the apotheosis of the beautiful animal we call "man." From one of these I have selected a fragment in illustration of the subject. It is but a fragment only from the story that the great sculptor

has written in stone. In the story complete we see the battles of the Heroes-against the Amazons, who resist marriage, and against the Centaurs, the violators of women-both being alike enemies to the very shekinah of their religion-the incarnation of ideal beauty in the human form. We see the procession of the Panathenaic festival: youths hastening forwards, or curbing back their horses; the victors in the games in chariots; slaves fulfilling menial duties. We see the runners in

the torch-races, men and youths and boys. Then the magnates of the city, grave in aspect; then beautiful women with votive offerings or leading the bulls garlanded for sacrifice; then priests and boys carrying the sacred vestment; and last of all the gods, amongst whom are Hera and Zeus.

But from first to last we perceive nothing to differentiate the natural from the supernatural. The seated figure of Zeus might be that of a chief magistrate in council; the graceful Hera or Demeter might be sisters of the girls in the procession; the horses of Hyperion might be the chargers of the warriors or of the Amazons.

Contrast with this reticence of Classic Art the treatment of the Supernatural as we see it in the works of the Mediævalists, where this unknown quantity, which cannot be legitimately expressed, is by any means and every means attempted to be implied. The nimbus round the head, varying in colour and design according to the dignity of the sacred character; the wings of the angels, which must be anatomically false; and above all, the curious expedient of representing the saints as of a larger size than that of the other figures in a group.

The outline on the opposite page is from a panel in the Châsse of St. Ursula, preserved in the Hospice S. Jean at Bruges, one of the most precious relics of

were her companions. I have selected this rather than a grosser example because it is my purpose to illustrate rather than to deride; and the sweet innocence of the girlish figure protects it from rude criticism. But the application of the principle of following the canonisation of an individual by a corresponding enlargement of the person is occasionally attended with results less fortunate than in this case. Not seldom does a sweet girl-saint appear with a dozen greybeards peeping out from the folds of her garments, or with a company of mitred ecclesiastics grouped around her-as the little children crowd around a favourite teacher in a Sunday-school not knowing that she also is perhaps. a saint.

Of such expedients we may at the least affirm that they do not tend to the elevation of Art. Perhaps it is as true of the Artist as it is of the Philosopher and of the Divine, that he cannot predicate too little of the unknown.

For consider to what such symbolism will lead. If beauty of form and truth of drawing are to be abandoned for a supposed sacred purpose, it will inevitably follow that the deviation from truth and beauty will be required first of all in the very figures which are to be especially reverenced. The accessories will be allowed to retain their normal conditions-there is nothing supernatural about them. But will the accessories

consent to retain their normal conditions?

Ah! not so.

The knowledge of what is beautiful, and the power of drawing truthfully from nature, are not to be attained by the half-hearted labour given to accessories. The painter who begins by dethroning Beauty and Truth need not be surprised if they refuse to wait upon him as his servants. At first relegated to the background, they will presently slip out of his canvas altogether, and the painter will find himself alone, with nothing but his own inventions to stare him in the face. In other words, the law of Art will become-that all things shall be ugly-and the more ugly the more divine.

The drawing on the following page can have no other history than this; and I have chosen it as a type of the degradation that may be reached through such treacherous dealing with truth. It is a facsimile of one from a multitude of engravings in an old Prayer-book now lying before me, and is supposed to represent the Eye of Providence guarding our land from the perils of Gunpowder Treason. If the expedients of the Mediævalists were not elevating to Art, surely this is not exalting to Religion. And yet, not profanely was it drawn, nor without a reasonable hope that it would be a solace and support to the Christian in his devotions would the compiler of this Prayer-book have issued it from the press. The date of the title-page, however,