A sailor’s acquaintance with the sea gives a particular point to the work of Thomas Somerscales. His pictures, _Off Valparaiso_ (p. 82) and _Before the Gale_ (p. 83), have an unpretentious reality that can be accepted in perfect good faith. They are distinguished by an unusual straightforwardness, and by a simplicity of manner and method that is curiously effective; and they tell us, because they are so simple and straightforward, more about the sea than we can learn from paintings which are much fuller of detail and accessory incident. R. W. Allan’s _Off to the Fishing Grounds_ (p. 84), and C. W. Simpson’s _Landing Fish_ (p. 85), have to do with life in home waters instead of the adventuring of ocean-going ships, but they are none the less interesting on that account. In the first picture, indeed, the chance of working out a very agreeable line composition has been used by the artist with the best of judgment, and he has entered thoroughly into the spirit of his subject. In the _Landing Fish_, a good illustration is given of the way in which a perfectly literal statement of a scene, for which almost any fishing-port would provide a setting, can be made artistically important by a painter who looks at it sympathetically and who can induce other people to look at it through his eyes. There are few occupations carried on so picturesquely as that of the fisherman or among surroundings so full of varied pictorial possibilities; and there are fewer still which offer so many picture subjects ready-made. To turn from works such as these to Herbert Draper’s _Flying Fish_ (p. 87), is to change abruptly from fact to fancy, from a frank rendering of things as they are to a fantastic suggestion of something that never existed save in the artist’s imagination. But the realities of the deep often seem so fantastic, even to the people who have had long experience of them, that the artist may surely be forgiven for building upon them fancies of his own. Indeed, this water nymph at play in the element to which she belongs appears much more credible than many of the sea monsters which have been proved to be actually in existence; and by the artist’s skill she is presented as a very pleasing embodiment of the spirit of the sea--sportive, irresponsible, and ruthless too, but beautiful and intensely alive. It is not good for us to be always material-minded and matter-of-fact, so we can allow to the mermaid a place in art even though we know that she has been classified by science as merely a species of sea-cow--a most unpoetic translation of an ancient myth.