points through it with her rod, holding a fruit(?) for reward, in her
left hand. The gate is very strait indeed--her own waist no less so,
her hair fastened close. She had once a white veil binding it, which is
lost. Not a gushing form of literature, this,--or in any wise disposed
to subscribe to Mudie's, my English friends--or even patronize Tauchnitz
editions of--what is the last new novel you see ticketed up today in Mr.
Goodban's window? She looks kindly down, nevertheless, to the three
children whom she is teaching--two boys and a girl: (Qy. Does this mean
that one girl out of every two should not be able to read or write? I am
quite willing to accept that inference, for my own part,--should perhaps
even say, two girls out of three). This girl is of the highest classes,
crowned, her golden hair falling behind her the Florentine girdle round
her hips--(not waist, the object being to leave the lungs full play; but
to keep the dress always well down in dancing or running). The boys are
of good birth also, the nearest one with luxuriant curly hair--only the
profile of the farther one seen. All reverent and eager. Above, the
medallion is of a figure looking at a fountain. Underneath, Lord Lindsay
says, Priscian, and is, I doubt not, right.

_Technical Points_.--The figure is said by Crowe to be entirely
repainted. The dress is so throughout--both the hands also, and the
fruit, and rod. But the eyes, mouth, hair above the forehead, and
outline of the rest, with the faded veil, and happily, the traces left
of the children, are genuine; the strait gate perfectly so, in the
colour underneath, though reinforced; and the action of the entire
figure is well preserved: but there is a curious question about both
the rod and fruit. Seen close, the former perfectly assumes the shape
of folds of dress gathered up over the raised right arm, and I am not
absolutely sure that the restorer has not mistaken the folds--at the
same time changing a pen or style into a rod. The fruit also I have