of the present Academy? In some ways, things have improved a
little since my "Boadishia" came back on my hands (1839) at a time
when High Art and the Antique would not do in this country: they
would not do. As far as the new exhibition shows, they do better
now than when the century was younger and "Portrait of the Artist,
by S. Gandish"--at thirty-three years of age--was offered in vain
to the jealously Papist clique who then controlled the Uffizi.
Foreigners are more affable now; they have taken Mr. Poynter's of
himself.

To return to the Antique, what the President's "Captive Andromache"
must have cost in models alone is difficult to reckon. When times
were cheaper, fifty years since, my ancient Britons in "Boadishia"
stood me in thirty pounds: the central figures, however, were
members of my own family. To give every one his due, "Andromache"
is high art--yes, it is high--and the Antique has not been
overlooked. About the back-view of the young party at the fountain
Mr. Horsley may have something to say. For my part, there seems a
want of muscle in vigorous action: where are the BICEPS, where are
the thews of Michael Angelo? The President is a touch too quiet
for a taste framed in the best schools. As to his colour, where is
that nutty brown tone of the flesh? But the designs on the Greek
vase are carefully rendered; though I have heard it remarked by a
classical scholar that these kind of vases were not in use about
Homer's time. Still, the intention is good, though the costumes
are not what WE should have called Ancient Roman when the President
was a boy--ay, or earlier.

Then, Mr. Alma-Tadema, he has not turned HIS back on the glorious
Antique. "The Roses of Heliogabalus" are not explained in the