the head by the gorgeous raiment of a dignitary of the church.

I think Hogarth's portrait on the small wall to the right does not
disclose this master at his best, nor does Hoppner rise to the level of
his best work in the large portrait alongside of it. The Marchioness of
Wellesley is better and more sympathetically rendered than her two
children, who barely manage to stay in the picture.

On the whole an atmosphere of dignity permeates this gallery of older
masters. One may deplore the lack of many characteristics of modern art
in many of the old pictures. They are very often lifeless and stiff, but
the worst of them are far more agreeable than most of those of our own
time. The serene beauty of the Tiepolo, the Lawrence, and the
Gainsborough portrait has hardly been surpassed since their day. Our age
is, of course, the age of the landscape painter, the outdoor painter, as
opposed to the indoor portraits of these great masters. It would not be
right to judge a Gainsborough by his landscapes any more than it would
be to judge a modern landscape painter by his portraits. But no matter
how uninteresting these old landscapes are, their brown tonality insures
them a certain dignity of inoffensiveness which a mediocre modern work
of art never possesses, I would rather any time have a bad old picture
than a bad one of the very recent schools. Modesty is not one of the
chief attributes of modern art, and the silent protest of a gallery such
as the one we are now in, the artist can well afford to heed.

The sculpture in this gallery has no relation to the historical
character of the room, but fits well into the atmosphere. Adolph A.
Weinman's admirable "Descending Night" is so familiar to all Exposition
visitors, in its adaptation in a fine fountain in the Court of the
Universe, that no more reference need be made to it. Here in bronze on a