Into the great Court of the Universe, from the top of the Arch of the Occident, march the types of men who have made the Western civilization. From left to right - the French-Canadian, the Alaskan, the German, the Latin-American, the Italian, the Anglo-American, the Squaw, the American Indian. In the center of this well-balanced pyramidal group, surmounted by Enterprise and drawn by sturdy oxen, comes the old prairie schooner. To right and left atop are seen the Heroes of Tomorrow - one a white boy, the other a negro type. In front marches the splendid Mother of Tomorrow. The Nations of the Orient A. Stirling Calder, Frederick Roth, Leo Lentelli, Sculptors Atop the Arch of the Orient is the superb tableau representing the types of men that form the Orientals. From left to right - the Arab Sheik, the Negro Servitor, the Egyptian Warrior, the Arab Falconer, the Indian Prince and Spirit of the East, the Lama, the Mohammedan Warrior, the Negro Servitor, the Mongolian Warrior. On they come to join the Nations of the West in the great Court of the Universe. This group is as fine as any group ever seen at an exposition. It rises in its impressive pyramidal height to a climax in the Spirit of the East - a fitting pivot on which to turn the types. The Alaskan Frederick Roth, Sculptor Frederick Roth has fashioned one of the most expressive figures of the Exposition sculpture, but so far above the eye is she and so overshadowed by her companions, that we do not see her in her true light. It is the Alaskan Indian of the Nations of the Occident. She is moving on with her totem poles and blankets. You feel her tug and strain, for her load is growing heavier with each step, and she has yet a long way to go. The modeling of the figure, the foot, the rigid arm and hand, all tell of sustained effort that is truly life-like in expression. The Lama Frederick Roth, Sculptor The priest of Thibet, the Lama, passes on his onward march before you. You do not wonder what race claims him. He is of Mongolian blood. He stolidly passes by, looking neither to the right nor to the left. He is used to being obeyed. His rod of authority tells you that what he says is law. Indifference and arrogance are on his face. His very posture, the very way in which his robe hangs from his shoulders, the position of his nerveless fingers that hold the rod, speak of centuries of indifference to everything except what he thinks. The Genius of Creation Daniel Chester French, Sculptor