Never before was there an exposition in which color played such a part. Here for the first time a director of color was placed above architect and sculptor and painter. Jules Guerin, chief of color decoration, has said that he went to work just as a painter starts to lay out a great picture, establishing the warm buff of the building walls as a ground tone, and considering each dome or tower or portal as a detail which should add its brilliant or subdued note to the color harmony. Not only do the paintings and sculpture take proper place in the tone scheme, but every bit of planting, every strip of lawn and every bed of flowers or shrubs, has its duty to perform as color accent or foil. Even the gravel of the walks was especially chosen to shade in with the general plan. As seen from the heights above the Exposition-and no visitor should go away without seeing this view-the grounds have the appearance of a great Oriental rug. The background color is warm buff, with various shades of dull red against it, accented by domes and columns of pale green, with occasional touches of blue and pink to heighten the effect. In the courts the columns and outer walls are in the buff, or old ivory, tone, while the walls inside the colonnades have a "lining color" of Pompeian red; the ceilings are generally cerulean blue; the cornices are touched with orange, blue and gold; and occasional columns of imitation Siena marble, and bronzed statues, set off the whole. In connection with the color scheme, great credit must be given to John McLaren, chief of the department of landscape gardening, who has worked so successfully in co-operation with architects and color director. The Exposition is built almost entirely on filled ground, just reclaimed from the bay; and it was a colossal task to set out the hundreds of thousands of flowers, shrubs and trees which now make the gardens seem permanent, and which set off the architecture so perfectly. Lighting When one's soul has been drenched all day in the beauty of courts and palaces and statues and paintings, dusk is likely to bring welcome rest; but when the lights begin to appear there comes a new experience-a world made over, and yet quite as beautiful as the old. Walls are lost where least interesting, bits of architecture are brought out in relief against the velvet sky, and sculptures take on a new softness and loveliness of form. Under the wonderfully developed system of indirect illumination, no naked light is seen by the eye; only the soft reflected glow, intense when desired, but never glaring. If this lighting is not in itself an art, it is at least the informing spirit that turns prose to poetry, or the instrumental accompaniment without which the voice of the artist would be but half heard. Too much credit cannot be given to the lighting wizard of the Exposition, W. D'Arcy Ryan. The Court of Abundance