scurity. The elements of the first decoration find due balance in those of this. The celebrated frieze of the prophets has its complement in the beautiful frieze of the angels; just as the symbolical figure of Moses and the Law forms the central unit in the former work, so here the grand crucifix yet more distinctively asserts itself as the predominant feature. While in the first instance we are shown the chosen people. deservedly suffering at the hands of their oppressors, here we see unregenerate humanity itself, as typified by Adam and Eve, suffering under the weight of its sins. And, above, the cloud-hidden Jehovah is complemented by the majestic Persons of the Holy Trinity. At the base of the first composition the prophets point out for the Jews the true way; in the pendant frieze the angels show for man the glories that wait. So in idea as well as in design the two compositions are similarly developed.

The figures of Adam and Eve, bound closely to the body of Christ on the cross, represent a conception original with the artist. In itself this element, as here expressed, is sufficient to give the work exalted distinction-contrasting the trinity of the body below with the Trinity of the Spirit above, and showing that the process of redemption is of this world. The rendering of this idea is so wholly kept in the medieval spirit that it has the effect of being an appropriation from ancient art; the beholder is even inclined to remember something of the kind stored somewhere in the galleries of his mind. One would not have been surprised to learn that Albrecht Dürer, for instance, had included a like conception in his work.

The modeling of these and other figures, together with the extensive employment of ornament in relief in this decoration, makes it a work of sculpture as well as of painting. In no other modern decoration is this the case to so marked a degree. Besides the figures of the crucifix, which are carried out in high relief, the faces of the Persons of the Trinity are modeled, and also portions of the figures of the two angels that support the cross. The figures of the crucifix and the faces of the Trinity have the grayish neutral tone of stone. This quality not only strengthens the colorharmony it emphasizes the mural character of the design by developing the

textural feeling of the wall in the work, as if the wall itself were thus made an element in the scheme-the composition wrought integrally into the wall and not merely overlaying it. The same feeling is manifest in the first decoration in the grayish tone of portions of the work, as well as by the modeled head of Moses. In developing the former composition, modeling was at first tentatively introduced, leading to its employment in all confidence here. The enhanced values of lights and shadows in the modeled portions greatly strengthen the quality of the work. This revival of Renaissance methods in decoration points the way to splendid possibilities in future mural design.

The symbolism of the work all bears upon its central theme. Adam and Eve are bound to the body of Christ as being one in nature therewith, and they kneel, each with a chalice, to catch, for the remission of their sins, the blood that flows from the hands of the Saviour. "Remissa sunt peccata mundi" ("Remitted are the sins of the world"), declares the legend above the cross. The sodden face of Adam indicates the need for redemption brought upon man by the fall from primal innocence. An impassive character marks all the faces and figures, in accordance with the ancient symbolic art, which declares its meanings in emblems rather than in individual expression. This quality extends even to the exquisitely beautiful angels in the frieze. These angels have the same rigidity that, as an attribute of Byzantine art, marks the entire composition, though in this instance modulated by a most lovely graciousness that imparts the creative touch of the artist's modernity as in a sort of impalpable aroma of form, color, and sweet purity of spirit.

As the figures of the crucifix are joined in a trinity of the body, so above we have the Trinity of the Spirit likewise enveloped in one common garment, in the golden hem of which the word "Sanctus" is incessantly repeated. The faces of the Persons of the Trinity are identical, all cast in the same mold, but crowned with different attributes, as indicating separate aspects of that which is essentially one and the same. The seven gifts of the Holy Spirit are represented by the seven doves with the cruciform nimbus. Wrought into the design of the cross is a special symbol of the Church in the

Copyright, 1903, by the Trustees of the Public Library of Boston.

From a Copley print, copyright, 1903, by Curtis & Cameron RIGHT SIDE OF THE FRIEZE

shape of the pelican feeding its young, modeled in relief. Below is the symbol of evil, the serpent, in whose folds the feet of Adam are entangled. The eight angels in the frieze bear the instruments of the passion. The significance of the number eight in Christian symbolism is regeneration. This decoration, as an expression of Sargent's genius, is quite unlike any previous aspect of his art, though carrying along in due sequence the working out of the great problem with the beginning of which we have for some time been familiar. While the noble character of the design, the grand simplicity of the composition, and the beauty of line and form speak

clearly in its reproduction in terms of black and white, this can do little more than barely suggest the profound impression produced by its union of plastic with chromatic resources. It speaks of spatial and spiritual immensity, of primal conceptions in faith, inclusive, all-embracing. The color has a resonant depth that augments the majestic solemnity of the composition, splendid masses and accents of mellow-toned gold relieving the full, soft richness of dull reds, deeply tranquil blues, and restful grays, that in a few firmly developed, dominant chords characterize the work in the quiet breadth of its magnificent solemnity.

T is natural that the attention and affecto a woman who has devoted herself assiduously to understanding and to making known the aspirations of our country, especially in introducing the labors and achievements of our women to their sisters in France, of whom we also have much to learn; for simple homely virtues and the charm of womanliness may still be studied with advantage on the soil of France.

Thérèse de Solms Blanc, or "Th. Bentzon," novelist and essayist, was born in an old French château at Seine-Port, in France, near what she herself has called "a delicious village" in the department of the Seine-et-Oise. The château was owned by her grandmother, the Marquise de Vitry, who was a woman of great force and energy of character, "a ministering angel" to her country neighborhood. Her grandmother's first marriage was to a Dane, Major-General Adrien Benjamin de Bentzon, who was a governor of the Danish Antilles. By this marriage there was one daughter, the mother of Thérèse, who in her turn mar

ried the Comte de Solms. "This mixture of races," Mme. Blanc once wrote, "surely explains a kind of moral and intellectual cosmopolitanism which is found in my nature. My father of German descent, my mother of Danish,-my nom de plume (which was her maiden name) is Danish, -with Protestant ancestors on her side, though she and I were Catholics; my grandmother a sound and witty Parisian, gay, brilliant, lively, with imperturbable physical health and the consequent good. spirits-surely these materials could not have produced other than a cosmopolitan being."

Mme. Blanc's life in the country during her early years, although under conditions apparently unchanged from those of an earlier century, was wonderfully conducive to the child's health and her best physical development. The family at the château, although far from rich, was nevertheless considered the protecting power of the small village which surrounded their domain. The family soon removed to a second château, this time in the Orléanais,

where the two children, her brother and herself, seem to have remained the larger part of the year, while their elders were in Paris.

The Marquis de Vitry was a most affectionate grandfather to these children. He was a perfect type of the old régime, having been a boy of thirteen or fourteen when the great Revolution broke out. In the Reign of Terror his life and his younger brother's were saved by their tutor, and in a printing-office, where they were hidden as apprentices to learn the trade, they one day set the type for the bill of sale of their own confiscated estates. He was a superbly handsome man, as kind and generous as he was handsome, and evidently a most enchanting companion. Mme. Blanc's recollections of her childhood in this country home, where she and her brother found playmates among the village children, give delightful glimpses of a France which no longer exists. I well remember one story of the wedding of two young peasants. The ceremony was to take place, of course, in the village church, and their little lady, Mlle. de Solms, was invited to represent the great house, and was expected to be present. At the moment of receiving the invitation she was playing out of doors in her cape bonnet and pinafore, with good stout shoes well tied up round her sturdy little feet, an unconscious subject for Greuze, if ever one were seen. The child appreciated the greatness of the occasion, and cast about in her mind as to what her offering might be; she could think of nothing good enough for the marriage gift except one of her own dear rabbits. She did not think twice; one of these great treasures should go. She hunted and found her pet, and carrying him by the ears, led the procession—cape bonnet, struggling rabbit, and all-up to the altar! Only in after years did the scene fully reveal its comic side to her mind; at the moment all was seriousness, coupled with a sense of high duty and pleasure in such generosity.

At this very early period an admirable English governess was found for the small Thérèse and her brother. Mme. Blanc has written of this period of her life: "At the bottom of all I have done I find the moral influence of my mother, who especially preached by example, combined with the British impulse given me by my dear Miss Robertson, who inculcated love of truth

and simplicity; the traditions of the home of my grandparents, who kept me a century behind in many things; a passionate love of nature, due to long years spent in the country, where I have passed the greater part of my life; the keen sensations of the beauties of a landscape; the precocious curiosity to learn; and the happiness which comes from scribbling."

In the healthful and picturesque surroundings of an old French neighborhood such as we have described, the child lived, except for certain brief periods passed at Paris with her father and mother, who had made a winter home for themselves there. Thus the days went by until she was sixteen years old, when it was considered proper that a husband should be found for her. It was one of the last acts of her father's life. He died the winter of his daughter's marriage, having consigned the care of his beautiful young child to one of his own friends, M. Alexandre Blanc, whose estates were in the southern city of Vienne, whither she went to live.

It seems to have been a deceptive dream to M. Blanc, as well as to herself, that they could leave the world of Paris, to which they were both wonted, and go to his birthplace to live permanently. The old family demesne could not be long occupied by her husband, because he was too actively interested in affairs in Paris. At intervals it was necessary that she should be left quite alone in this strange city, full of provincial interests of which she knew nothing, and thrown among strangers. Before many months they returned to Paris. Meanwhile her father had died, and she was gladly received again at the home of her mother. Here her child was born, a son, before the end of the year, when she was barely seventeen years old. Presently the estates at Vienne were definitely and finally abandoned.

A turning-point in the career of Mme. Blanc was thus reached very early in her life. She saw that the moment had arrived when her literary talent, which had never been altogether dormant, must awaken into full energy. "The melting away of what fortune I had," she has written, "justified the development and affirmation of my literary tastes. Consequently, I have always looked upon poverty as an obliging friend, for it placed the pen firmly in my hand. Though I had long written