ine prove
the versatility and completeness of the sculptor's art. Juno is
accompanied by her peacock and bears the rod of power; Minerva lifts a
sword, and Venus holds the golden apple. The candelabra are further
enriched with masks and chimeras, and bear at their top a charming
circular group of the three graces, small undraped figures, with arms
entwined and faces turned toward each other. The general design and
exquisite detail of this work is worthy of the Renaissance. There are
some more candlesticks and other works of decorative art, all of which
bear the marks of a master-hand.

The humorous side of things is presented by some of the groups: in the
ungainly figure of the elephant of Senegal running; in the bear lying
on his back in a trough and eating with great gusto some sweet morsel
which he holds between his paws; and in the meditative stork standing
on the back of a turtle. Some of the animals are shown as sleeping or
reclining, and there is a cat sitting, a goat feeding, a deer
scratching its side and a pheasant walking, among others, but the
tragic note is struck in most of them. Probably the best works are to
be found among those pieces representing members of the feline race,
which were always the subject of Barye's most thorough study. The
sculptures of horses are also very numerous, and it strikes one at
first as curious that, after all the rebuffs he received from the
academic faction, who recognized no animals but the horse and lion as
worthy of representation in sculpture, he should have modelled so many
of these very creatures. But, after all, Barye's lions and horses
belong to an entirely different race from those which the
tradition-bound old fogies were pleased with. The collection embraces
many admirable bronzes of birds: an eagle holding a dead heron; an owl
with a rat; a paroquet on a tree, and a strikingly fine composition of
a hawk killing a heron; and there are some beautiful studies of dogs,
especially a large seated greyhound, belonging to Mr. Walters. There
are rabbits, badgers, wolves and camels, but I remember no cows or
pigs, and only one group of sheep. Wild life, much more than domestic,
touched the sympathies of Barye.

Mr. Walters loans twenty-three of Barye's powerful water-colors of
animals and a fine oil, of unusual size for this artist, of a tiger.
One of the most striking of the water-colors shows a great snake
swallowing an antelope, whose head is partly engulfed, and it