Some interesting works are placed =near the windows=. In the =first= is a fragment from the pulpit of the Church of the Grands Augustins in Paris, by Germain Pilon, representing Paul Preaching at Athens. The bald head and long beard of the Apostle of the Gentiles are traditional; the figure is modelled on Italian precedents; here again the female auditors are introduced entirely in the classical spirit, and treated with Renaissance love for exuberant femininity. Nominally sacred, such works as this are really nothing more than sensuous and decorative in their tendencies. The Church accepted them because they were supposed to be artistic. Other fragments opposite exemplify the same baneful tendency, pregnant with decadence. Christ and the Woman of Samaria (with her classical urn) is a subject we have already met with elsewhere: here, it is much permeated by Renaissance feeling. The Preaching of St. John Baptist gives the artist an opportunity for introducing two attractive female listeners. In the =second window=, the contrast between the comparatively archaic St. Eloi from Dijon, and the Nymphs of the school of Jean Goujon, is sufficiently abrupt to point its own moral. Germain Pilon’s Entombment may be instructively compared with Jean Goujon’s and others; the Magdalen here is an admirable figure. Glance across from one to the other and note the resemblance. Even at this late date, how close is the similarity in the attitudes of the chief actors! They almost correspond figure for figure:—Joseph of Arimathæa, and then Nicodemus, supporting the dead Christ; next, the fainting Madonna, in the arms of one of the Maries; then, the Magdalen at the foot, with her box of ointment, and the mourning women; all stand in the same relations in the two reliefs. If you will compare both paintings and sculptures in this manner, you will learn how much the artist borrowed in each case from predecessors, and exactly how much is his own invention. Opposite the Entombment are other Nymphs of the school of Jean Goujon, and a characteristic transitional figure of a Donor and his Family, showing a distinct attempt to treat an old motive by the new methods; L the Donor, kneeling, introduced by his patron, St. John Baptist; R, two ladies of his family, introduced by a sainted bishop and an abbot; near them, their children, kneeling, but with some genial allowance for the sense of tedium in infancy; in the background, Renaissance architecture, with quaint bas-reliefs of Samson carrying off the gates of Gaza; the Resurrection and Appearance to the Apostles; the Supper at Emmaus; and Jonah emerging from the mouth of the whale. Works like these, often artistically of less importance, nevertheless not infrequently throw useful light on the nature of the conditions under which the sculptor worked—the trammels of tradition, the struggle to wriggle out of the commands of a patron, who desires to see reproduced the types of his childhood.