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180 varying degrees of grossness. The portrait is a large failure, for the least cxaniiiiatioii sliows that it not only lacks all delicacy, hut that what colour might have been attractive the painter has destroyed by the introduction of a bunch of primroses in the lady's belt, grossly out of harmony with the mauve dress and background. The work on the face is offensive by its hardness, while the left hand is most childishly modelled.

It cannot be said that the Englishmen sliDW to such advantage in the difficult critical art of portrait- painting as their foreign rivals, and yet there is much good and solid work by them. Portraiture is greatly a matter of careful ])ersonal study, and feel- ing camiot be accepted as a guide in it as it may be in other branches of art, since it is more essentially reasoning and intellectual in its nature. Perhaps 'Waiting' (.'57) is one of the best here ; for pure por- trait it imdoubtcdly is. The technical skill disj)layed in the fine and forcible gi-adation of a most diificult scheme of greens is much to be admired, while the springy lines of the figure and the modelling of an attractive face are excellent. Mr. Llewellyn dis- plays in this a versatility somewhat surprising to those who cmly know his landscapes, and we shall look for moi-e ])ortraits from his hand.

Mr. George Hare's Portrait of Madame H is the best piece of work we have yet seen of his, but he has been unhappy in his approval of his sitter's choice of costume. The yellow hat, in the scheme of predominant blue, is as unfortunate as a palpable anachronism in a realistic story of the Middle Ages, and the foresliortening of the left arm is decidedly uncertain and shaky. Yet it is on the whole careful and intelligent, and the technical skill displayed in the gauzy folds of the dress is really admirable.

One of the finest heads in the gallery, both for workmanship and insight, is undoubtedly the 'Tete d'Etude' (69) by Mr. Hubert Vos, who, we suppose, must now be accounted an Englishman. It is a loving and critical estimate of a line character ; the strength and delicacy, the power of selection and self-rej)ression, and the ])ure modelling are wortliy of all praise and enndation. Mr. Vos is perliaps all round the most successful exhibitor in the Gallery, for his landscapes are as good in their way as the many heads he has given us.

It is in landscape that the Frenchmen rise supreme with the bright colour obtained so freely and bountifully from pastel. It would be difficult to select one of their works of which one could say with certainty that it would have been better in oil, while, unfortunately, half of the English landscapes should by preference have been expressed in that metliinn. From Mr. Whistler, than whom no one knows better that the provinces of art are divided, though not by distinct and eternal lines of demarcation, we have studies of Venice, some of which are subtle, and will repay study, while others are trivial. It is a pleasure to note that the instinct of this artist, who has done good work in most mediums, has led him as correctly in pastel, as it has done in etching, in oil, and in water-colour, if indeed we except some occasional eccentricities, which we can well afford to pardon.

F. Montenard's ' Road in the South of France' (22) is a strong and effective piece of colour, in which the bright and brilliant sky, the purple shadows and the red rocks, are carefully contrasted, with excel- lent effect and harmony. F'rom this to Mr. Henry Simpson's ' King Ethelbald on Croydon Old Bridge ' (33) is neither a long leap by space or merit, for in this last we have one of the truest pastel landscapes by an Englishman in the whole Gallery ; and while we very much suspect that Mr. Simpson got liis grip of the material in M. Montenard's country, we cannot but admire so free and bold a piece of colour, and the courage of the artist in insisting truly that so much brilliancy is to be seen in England if we have eyes to behold it.

' In subject Mr. Frank Hind's 'Spanish Calle' (40) is far enough away, but the truth of drawing and the force of vivid colour come home to us. While Mr. Adolph Birkenrutli's ambitious ' L' Avenue du Maine,' Gare Montparnasse ' (175) is striking and successful, a small portrait (159) by the same artist is decidedly good. Mr. A. D. Pepjjercorn's ' Bend in the River' (GG) might have been reserved for oil, but it disphiys skill and does not lack feeling. The same may be said of much of Mr. Stott of Oldham's work. There are not many pictures in the Gallery which can be classed as works of imagination, nor are all those which do come imder this category entirely praiseworthy. Yet Mr. C. H. Shannon's ' Night of Redemption' (128), a beautiful piece of colour with- out pretensions to truth, is admirable in the feeling which is the sole possible foundation and raison d'etre of such work, and though, like it, 161, ' The Prodigal Son,' is very deficient in drawing, both are worthy of attention.

Among those who in a longer notice would de- serve extended mention, we may name Madame Bilinska, whose work is strong and masculine in gri]), if somewhat shallow ; Madame L. Abbema, whose ' Michael Bettenfeldt ' (118) is the best genre portrait here ; Jaconib Hood ; Eliz. A. Armstrong; Walter Langley ; W. E. F. Britten (who sends some admirable sketches of a decorative nature); George Clausen; Fred. Brown; Alfred Hartley; Buxton Knight; and George Frampton. MoKLEY Roberts.