Mr. W. L. Dodge, in the Pavilion of Art and Science, has grappled with his problem in a big way; exhibiting an eager acceptance of difficulty, and a resolute choice of intricate interest. For instance, he has arranged the light to fall upon his figures at short range, so that, instead of a simple scheme of light and shade, there is a multiplicity of unexpected effects. This purpose has expanded under the influence of the various subjects. The panels of _Art_ and _Music_ are crowded with sensations. We feel that here the painter is consciously and unconsciously reproducing the sensations of his Art life. In _Literature_, however, he has emerged into a more impersonal atmosphere. In _Science_ the reproduction of sensations even more clearly yields to the creation of thought. Lastly, the ceiling is the climax of this growing artistic and intellectual effort. Here the problem is at its biggest, and the technical solution most successful. It is not by this or that accident of professional attainment that Mr. Dodge wins us here. It is because we feel that here the technique finally becomes the handmaid of real creative faculty. In Mr. Melchers’s _War_ and _Peace_, it is not beauty, in the popular acceptation of the term, that attracts us. Our interest is seized by their masterful character, held by their strong technique, and confirmed by their deep human significance. The brush-work is simple and sure, applied with breadth and in few tones, imitating the manner of frescoes in the old manner, painted rapidly while the plaster was still damp. Everything counts, and the artist’s thought is brought close to us. The composition varies with the subjects. In _Peace_, Mr. Melchers has relied on smooth masses balanced athwart a pleasing leafy background. Movement is suspended. _War_, however, shows the vigorous construction of moving forms: solid masses and a tangle of gnarled limbs displayed naked against a harsh landscape. We have muscular and mental tension. We see only the horror and hideousness of war, and none of its pomp and circumstance. Laurel, indeed, crowns the leader’s head, but his son is stretched a corpse upon the rude bier. One man blows a trumpet, but none of the dogged faces kindles. Only the hounds show eagerness, and they are straining at the leash to get home. The religious procession is in its way just as strong. It is entirely unsentimental. These simple folk are entering naturally into what is merely a part of their life and thought.