of the
Row, the posers at afternoon teas, the posers in politics and the circus
posers. All four classes are delightful, but only the last class is ever
really decorative. Acrobats and gymnasts can give the young painter
infinite suggestions, for they bring into their art an element of
swiftness of motion and of constant change that the studio model
necessary lacks. What is interesting in these 'slaves of the ring' is
that with them Beauty is an unconscious result not a conscious aim, the
result in fact of the mathematical calculation of curves and distances,
of absolute precision of eye, of the scientific knowledge of the
equilibrium of forces, and of perfect physical training. A good acrobat
is always graceful, though grace is never his object; he is graceful
because he does what he has to do in the best way in which it can be
done--graceful because he is natural. If an ancient Greek were to come
to life now, which considering the probable severity of his criticisms
would be rather trying to our conceit, he would be found far oftener at
the circus than at the theatre. A good circus is an oasis of Hellenism
in a world that reads too much to be wise, and thinks too much to be
beautiful. If it were not for the running-ground at Eton, the towing-
path at Oxford, the Thames swimming-baths, and the yearly circuses,
humanity would forget the plastic perfection of its own form, and
degenerate into a race of short-sighted professors and spectacled
precieuses. Not that the circus proprietors are, as a rule, conscious of
their high mission. Do they not bore us with the haute ecole, and weary
us with Shakespearean clowns?--Still, at least, they give us acrobats,
and the acrobat is an artist. The mere fact that he never speaks to the
audience shows how well he appreciates the great truth that the aim of
art is not to reveal personality but to please. The clown may be
blatant, but the acrobat is always beautiful. He is an interesting
combination of the spirit of Greek sculpture with the spangles of the
modern costumier. He has even had his niche in the novels of our age,
and if Manette Salomon be the unmasking of the model, Les Freres Zemganno
is the apotheosis of the acrobat.

As regards the influence of the ordinary model on our English school of
painting, it cannot be said that it is altogether good. It is, of
course, an advantage for the young artist sitting in his studio to be
able to isolate 'a little corner of