n, holds the Child. The eldest of the Kings,
as usual, offers a vase of gold, out of which Christ has taken a
piece, which be holds in his hand. The name of the King, JASPER, is
inscribed on the vase; a younger King behind holds a cup. The black
Ethiopian king, Balthasar, is conspicuous on the left; he stands,
crowned and arrayed in gorgeous drapery, and, as if more fully to mark
the equality of the races--at least in spiritual privileges--his train
is borne by a white page. An exquisite landscape is seen through the
arch behind, and the shepherds are approaching in the middle distance.
On the whole, this is one of the most splendid pictures of the early
Flemish school I have ever seen; for variety of character, glow of
colour, and finished execution, quite unsurpassed.

In a very rich composition by Lucas van Leyden, Herod is seen in the
background, standing in the balcony of his palace, and pointing out
the scene to his attendants.

As we might easily imagine, the ornamental painters of the Venetian
and Flemish schools delighted in this subject, which allowed them full
scope for their gorgeous colouring, and all their scenic and dramatic
power. Here Paul Veronese revelled unreproved in Asiatic magnificence:
here his brocaded robes and jewelled diadems harmonized with his
subject; and his grand, old, bearded, Venetian senators figured,
not unsuitably, as Eastern Kings. Here Rubens lavished his ermine
and crimson draperies, his vases, and ewers, and censers of flaming
gold;--here poured over his canvas the wealth "of Ormuz and of Ind."
Of fifteen pictures of this subject, which he painted at different
times, the finest undoubtedly is that in the Madrid Gallery. Another,
also very fine, is in the collection of the Marquis of Westminster.
In both these, the Virgin, contrary to all former precedent, is
not seated, but _standing_, as she holds up her Child for worship.
Afterwards we find the same position of the Virgin in pictures by
Vandyck, Poussin, and other painters of the seventeenth century. It is
quite an innovation on the old religious arrangement; but in the utter
absence of all religious feeling, the mere arrangement of the figures,
except in an artistic point of view, is of little consequence.

As a scene of oriental pomp, heightened by mysterious shadows and
flashing lights, I know nothing equal to the Rembrandt in the
Queen's Gallery; the procession of attendants seen emerging from the
background through the