One of Onslow Ford’s most charming efforts in this direction is the delightfully whimsical “Folly.” It represents a figure with the adolescent charms of budding womanhood balancing herself on the edge of a precipitous rock. Toes clutching at the slippery edge—a fancy which is characteristic of Onslow Ford—“Folly” is calling to the foolish to follow the dream picture she can see in the distance. The charm of the little work lies in the freshness of the conception, the perfect balance of the figure and the beautiful realism with which form and flesh have been rendered. “The Egyptian Singer” (Tate Gallery) is an equally charming example of the sculptor’s art. Onslow Ford died in 1901. A sculptor of almost equal genius, though of less prolific accomplishment, was lost to English sculpture at an equally early age. We are referring to Harry Bates (1847-1899). There are two fine examples of his work at the Tate Gallery, London. Note the grace with which the artist’s imagination has given a new turn to so hackneyed a theme as the myth of Pandora: Bates’s “Pandora” is less an illustration of the Greek story than it is of an episode in the life-history of a woman of to-day. A sweet, virginal figure, she is opening the box in which Fate has hidden the unknown, without a premonition of the sorrows which must attend the revelation of the secret. The equally well-known “Hounds in Leash,” was sculptured by Bates to prove that he was as much at home in treating a subject requiring the expression of vigorous action as he was in the treatment of figures at rest. [Illustration: HARRY BATES PANDORA Tate Gallery, London] [Illustration: J. M. SWAN “ORPHEUS”] There are many sculptors in England at the present time who would claim attention were our survey an exhaustive one. This, of course, is not our purpose. It will therefore suffice to recall two other works in proof of the intense individualism of latter-day sculpture in Great Britain. The first is J. M. Swan’s charming statuette “Orpheus,” exhibited in the Royal Academy of 1895. J. M. Swan is, of course, the painter. He studied first at Lambeth, then at the Academy and finally at Paris, where he came under the influence of Frémiet, the animal sculptor. It is as a sculptor of animals that Swan has made his reputation. Indeed he may be roughly labelled as the English Barye. Note how delightfully the sinuousness of the lithe figure of the “Orpheus” is rendered. Here we have the spirit, not the echo, of the Greek myth. Like Barye, Swan is a realist, though his method is the reverse of realistic, since he is more concerned with the masses than the details. Swan’s supreme gift lies in his power to detect character in the whole of the human and animal form. His charm depends on the delightfully individualistic methods by which he expresses his insight. None of his statuettes ever strike us as coming from another man’s studio.