standing, with an expression of rage and mighty defiance. It is not too much to say that Mr. Bartholdi in this case has shown a fine appreciation of the requirements of colossal sculpture. He has sacrificed all unnecessary details, and, taking a lesson from the old Egyptian stone-cutters, has presented an impressive arrangement of simple masses and unvexed surfaces which give to the composition a marvellous breadth of effect. The lion is placed in a sort of rude niche on the side of a rocky hill, which is the foundation of the fortress of Belfort. It is visible at a great distance, and is said to be strikingly noble from every point of view. The idea is not original, however well it may have been carried out, for the Lion of Lucerne by Thorwaldsen is its prototype on a smaller scale and commemorates an event of somewhat similar character. The bronze equestrian statue of Vercingetorix, the fiery Gallic chieftain, in the Clermont museum, is full of violent action. The horse is flying along with his legs in positions which set all the science of Mr. Muybridge at defiance; the man is brandishing his sword and half-turning in his saddle to shout encouragement to his followers. The whole is supported by a bit of artificial rock-work under the horse, and the body of a dead Gaul lies close beside it. In the statue of Rouget de l'Isle we see a young man striking an orator's attitude, with his right arm raised in a gesture which seems to say: "_Aux armes, citoyens / Formes vos bataillons!_" The Lafayette, in New York, is perhaps a mediocre statue, but even so, it is better than most of our statues. A Frenchman has said of it that the figure "resembles rather a young tenor hurling out his C sharp, than a hero offering his heart and sword to liberty." It represents our ancient ally extending his left hand in a gesture of greeting, while his right hand, which holds his sword, is pressed against his breast in a somewhat theatrical movement. It will be inferred that the general criticism to be made upon Mr. Bartholdi's statues is that they are violent and want repose. The Vercingetorix, the Rouget de l'Isle, the Lafayette, all have this exaggerated stress of action. They have counterbalancing features of merit, no doubt, but none of so transcendent weight that we can afford to overlook this grave defect.