ghosts. Orpheus loved her so much that he followed
her into that gloomy place, taking his lyre with him. He played such
entrancing music that all the ghosts were spellbound. Even Persephone,
the stern Queen of the Dead, was so touched that she gave him leave to
take Eurydice back with him to the land of the living. But she warned
him that he must not look back till they were both safely out in the
upper world. Orpheus was glad beyond measure, and meant to obey the
warning. But he was so anxious about Eurydice, that just before they
had passed the gate of the under world he looked round, to make sure
that she was near him. In an instant she was whirled away back, to
dwell for ever among the dead. Orpheus came forth alone, twice
bereaved, and more than doubly sad.

Mr. Watts has painted several pictures of Orpheus and Eurydice. Some
of them show the figures at full length, but the one in our
illustration is less complete. Still it contains the principal points
that are to be seen in the other companion paintings. The scene is the
gloomy gateway of the world of the dead. It is all rough and rocky and
dark. Through its opening you catch a glimpse of the bright upper
world, and of the blue sky with its white clouds. Orpheus stands in
the shadow. His body has the glow of life and health. He wears his
minstrel's garland on his brow. But his face is full of anguish. For
he has looked backwards, and he sees that Eurydice, who is close behind
him, is a pale corpse again. Her arms, that have just been stretched
out to clasp his neck, have lost their power and are falling down
lifelessly. Her head is drooping upon her shoulder. Her eyes are
closed, and her fair face is turned towards the under world. One of
the pictures shows a lily which has dropped from her hand, and lies
trailing and broken among the stones at her feet. Her long golden hair
is blowing backwards into the dark. The right arm of Orpheus is
stretched out in a vain attempt to grasp her, and to hold her back from
being carried away by the resistless power that draws her. His left
hand holds his lyre, and all its strings save one are broken. His eye
is fixed on Eurydice's face in a gaze of hopeless pain. The picture is
terrible rather than beautiful to look upon. It tells us how, in the
sad, dark heathen world, before Christ came, men thought that though
Love might sometimes seem stronger than Death, Death was really
stronger than Love.