Of the two, Jules Dalou approaches most closely to the academic ideal. He is the link between the École des Beaux Arts and Rodin. The coupling of the two names must not be taken to suggest any close similarity between the two men. In his general view of the world, Dalou is far more akin to his master, Carpeaux, than he is to Rodin. The historical connection between Dalou and his more famous contemporary arises from the evidence of a revolt against the high conventionalism of the academic school to be found in his work. Moreover, like Rodin’s, Dalou’s figures never suggest the model; on the contrary, they are utterly unlike those of the “realists,” who also oppose the teachings of the École des Beaux Arts. This can be seen in such a work as Dalou’s great group—“The Triumph of Silenus,” in the Jardin du Luxembourg. The statue has the exuberant strength, the irresistible gusto for the living flesh, of a Rubens painting. Dalou’s sculpture has a peculiar interest for Englishmen. He is perhaps better known in England than any other French sculptor. He had to fly from Paris after the Commune, owing to having accepted the Curatorship of the Louvre during the troublous times. In the course of his eight years exile in England, he became professor of sculpture at South Kensington. Dalou was, throughout his career, a man of strenuous purpose, able and willing to drive home the ideals which he had made his own. It would be difficult to exaggerate the influence of his instruction and example upon the younger school of English sculptors. [Illustration: JULES DALOU TRIUMPH OF SILENUS Jardin du Luxembourg, Paris] AUGUSTE RODIN Rodin—Dalou’s comrade in the fight against the influence of the École des Beaux Arts—is a man of equally vigorous personality. Even more than Dalou, he has come to his own in spite of circumstances. Born in 1840, Rodin is now sixty-seven years of age. At fourteen, he started to earn a living as a maker of ornaments, managing, however, to find time for classes at a Parisian art school and lessons from the veteran Barye. Little trace can now be found of the influence of the great animal sculptor upon his more famous pupil, but Rodin has put on record his indebtedness to Barye. “It was he,” he said, “who, by fixing my attention upon Nature, carried my artistic education to a point from which I could pursue it alone.” Truth to tell, Rodin owes his success to no one except himself. He is essentially the sculptor of modern individualism in its most intense form.