unnecessarily questioned by such an industrious authority as Justi, who considers that it is the work of a Fleming. Not even the most audacious of assailants has ventured to throw doubt upon the portrait of ‘Quevedo’--a head and shoulders, black and deep brown-grey--the poet wearing conspicuously those thick and dark-rimmed glasses which, by reason of too assiduous study, he is reported never for a moment after middle life to have been able to dispense with. With Mr. Huth’s portrait of Philip the Fourth, a full-length, life-size figure, and with the portrait of Don Balthasar, the eldest son of a monarch who would appear to have spent an appreciable portion of his lifetime in the painting-room of Velasquez, the artist reaches the hill-top--a summit, fortunately, from which, even to the end of his days, he was not destined to descend. The ‘Don Balthasar’ is the possession of the Duke of Westminster. It shows the child in a costume enriched with gold and silver, mounted upon a prancing pony, in the courtyard of the palace; and finely painted as the face is, the picture, as a whole, illustrates the justice of Mr. R. M. Stevenson’s contention that in the outdoor full-length portraits, in which _ensemble_, and atmosphere, realised background even, a sense of the presence of the actual world, must needs count for so much, there is not to be looked for that searching and intimate treatment of the visage which Velasquez reserved in the main for works which were studies of the head alone.