A clear, starry night; travellers are approaching Bethlehem—these are the Magi, men versed in science, having a knowledge of astrology. Proceeding on their way toward the city, the wise men notice a star standing over it—a star which they had never yet observed. Since, at that time, the idea was prevalent that every man had his own star, and, _vice versâ_, every star corresponded to some man on earth, so the Magi naturally conclude that this new star indicates the birth of a child somewhere in the neighbourhood, and that—the star being exceptionally brilliant—the new-born child must develop into a most prominent man. Arriving at Bethlehem, the Magi put up at an inn. Soon after, the servant, who had been attending to the travellers’ mules, comes in and tells the Magi that a poor woman had sought refuge in the place where their animals were kept, and there had given birth to a most beautiful child. Hearing this, the Magi exchange significant glances—the coming up of the star has been rightly interpreted by them. “Let us go and see; it must be an extraordinary child,” they say, and thereupon proceed to the grotto of the inn, where the horses, the cows, and the donkeys were kept, being followed by a few other travellers, who are likewise curious to see the new-born child. In a corner of the grotto they observe a beautiful, pale young woman, sitting on a pile of straw and nursing her baby, whilst her husband, an elderly man, is seen in the distance, outside the grotto, preparing something for his family. “What a beautiful child!” exclaimed the Magi, and, turning to the Virgin, say: “Remember our words, He will be a great man; we have seen His star.” Then, their pity being stirred by the poverty of the surroundings, one of the wise men would offer a gold coin as a gift to the child, while another would, perhaps, pour out a little of the precious myrrh from his travelling-flask. As the wise men get ready to leave the grotto, they turn once more to Mary and repeat their prediction concerning the great future of the child, and “Mary kept these things, and pondered them in her heart.” I firmly believe that such a realistic representation of the poverty and simplicity attending the nativity of Christ is incomparably loftier than the idealization of richness and other exaggerations to which the old masters had recourse. But such a treatment of the subject is new; therefore it appears strange, and very likely will excite comment. And only our descendants in a century or two will be able to decide which of these two opposing views was the correct one. * * * * * Among the paintings on exhibition will be noticed one portraying a not infrequent event in Palestine in the olden time—an event highly dramatic, yet retaining all its simplicity. I mean “A Crucifixion under the Romans.”