these men; by which means the figures of Jesus and the angel are made to appear as secondary. I have seen no picture in which the sleeping disciples are satisfactorily introduced, and I greatly prefer certain curious ancient representations of the Agony, in which Christ and the angel only are present. Many famous artists, from the time of Mantegna, have painted their conceptions of the wonderful scene in the Garden. Correggio has at least made Jesus the chief person, and his angel is apparently suited to his office of a comforter. Paul Veronese, Albert Dürer, and Rembrandt have all painted powerful pictures of this subject, and Ary Scheffer has depicted the Agony of Christ with living vividness; but one and all of these works fall so far short of one’s highest conception of this wonderful event, that, except as examples of the design, coloring, and manner of these masters, they appear to me of little value. The visit of the women to the sepulchre of Christ is variously represented, as would naturally result from the different accounts given by the Evangelists. Some pictures represent Mary Magdalene alone, when she saw two angels sitting where the body of Christ had lain, and almost immediately beheld the risen Lord near by, as in our illustration after Burne-Jones. Again, the other women are pictured who saw two men in shining garments, and were told, “He is not here, but is risen;” more frequently the three Maries are represented coming to the sepulchre, bearing spices, and finding the guards paralyzed with terror, and an angel who tells them that the Lord is risen. These scenes have been represented in Art from its earliest and rudest beginning, and were rendered with perfect simplicity, strictly following the clear scriptural account. Later, the guards were omitted, and the whole scene took on a more dramatic air, until, in the sixteenth century, this subject was rarely painted, and has not again resumed its earlier importance. It makes one in a series of subjects illustrating the life of Christ, but is rarely seen as a separate work. Annibale Caracci painted a picture of the Women at the Sepulchre, which is now in the Hermitage at St. Petersburg; and in Siena there still exists an example of the same subject by Duccio, who lived in the thirteenth century. Pictures of the Last Judgment, as usually painted, are illustrative of a combination of scriptural teaching with the imaginative suggestions of preachers, writers on religious subjects, poets, and artists, and elements from the sacred legends. There is no scriptural warrant for the presence of Satan and his demons in this scene, horribly effective and impressive as they are; but I have reason to think that this element is thoughtlessly accepted as authoritative by many who interest themselves in religious art.