lding in his lap a multitude
of blossoms, and wearing on his head a wreath. The conception of
this statue provokes comparison with the Flora of the Neapolitan
Museum. I should like to recognise in it a Dionysus Antheus, rather
than one of the more prosy Roman gods of horticulture. Not unworthy
to rank with these first-rate portraits of Antinous is a Ganymede,
engraved by the Dilettante Society, which represents him standing
alert, in one hand holding the wine-jug and in the other lifting a
cup aloft. It will be seen from even this brief enumeration of a few
among the statues of Antinous, how many and how various they are.
One, however, remains still to be discussed, which, so far as
concerns the story of Antinous, is by far the most interesting of
all. As a work of art, to judge by photographs, it is inferior to
others in execution and design. Yet could we but understand its
meaning clearly, the mystery of Antinous would be solved: the key to
the whole matter probably lies here; but, alas! we know not how to
use it. I speak of the Ildefonso Group at Madrid.[1]

[1] See Frontispiece.

On one pedestal there are three figures in white marble. To the
extreme right of the spectator stands a little female statue of a
goddess, in archaistic style, crowned with the calathos, and holding
a sphere, probably of pomegranate fruit, to her breast. To the left
of this image are two young men, three times the height of the
goddess, quite naked, standing one on each side of a low altar. Both
are crowned with a wreath of leaves and berries--laurel or myrtle.
The youth to the right, next the image, holds a torch in either
hand: with the right he turns the flaming point downwards, till it
lies upon the altar; with the left he lifts the other torch aloft,
and rests it on his shoulder. He has a beautiful Graeco-Roman face,
touched with sadness or ineffable reflection. The second youth leans
against his comrade, resting his left arm across the other's back,
and this hand is lightly placed upon the shoulder, close to the
lifted torch. His right arm is bent, and so placed that the hand
just cuts the line of the pelvis a little above the hip. The weight
of his body is thrown principally upon the right leg; the left foot
is drawn back, away from the altar. It is the attitude of the Apollo
Sauroctonos. His beautiful face, bent downward, is intently gazing
with a calm, collected, serious, and yet sad cast of earnest
meditation. His eyes seem