"to learn that alone might consume the labor of a whole life." And it is an undeniable fact that enlarging the scale of a statue adds in more than a corresponding degree to the difficulties of the undertaking. The colossi of the ancients were to a great extent designed for either the interiors or the exteriors of religious temples, where they were artfully adapted to be seen in connection with architectural effects. Concerning the sole prominent exception to this rule, the statue of Apollo at Rhodes, we have such scant information that even its position is a subject of dispute. It has been pointed out how the four modern outdoor colossi of Europe each and all fail to attain the requirements of a work of art. All our inquiries, it appears then, lead to the conclusion that Mr. Bartholdi has many chances against him, so far as we are able to learn from an examination of the precedents, and in view of these facts it would be a matter for surprise if the "Liberty" statue should prove to possess any title to the name of a work of art. We reserve a final decision, however, as to this most important phase of the affair, until the statue is in place. [Footnote A: "Les Colosses anciens et moderns," par E. Lesbazeilles; Paris: 1881.] The idea that great size in statues is necessarily vulgar, does not seem admissible. It would be quite as just to condemn the paintings on a colossal scale in which Tintoretto and Veronese so nobly manifested their exceptional powers. The size of a work of art _per se_ is an indifferent matter. Mere bigness or mere littleness decides nothing. But a colossal work has its conditions of being: it must conform to certain laws. It must be executed in a large style; it must represent a grand idea; it must possess dignity and strength; it must convey the idea of power and majesty; it must be located in a place where its surroundings shall augment instead of detracting from its aspect of grandeur; it must be magnificent, for if not it will be ridiculous. The engravings of Mr. Bartholdi's statue represent a woman clad in a peplum and tunic which fall in ample folds from waist and shoulder to her feet. The left foot, a trifle advanced supports the main weight of the body. The right arm is uplifted in a vigorous movement and holds aloft a blazing torch. The left hand grasps a tablet on which the date of the Declaration of Independence appears; this is held rather close to the body and at a slight angle from it. The head is that of a handsome, proud and brave woman. It is crowned by a diadem. The arrangement of the draperies is, if one may judge from the pictures, a feature of especial excellence in the design. There is merit in the disposition of the peplum or that portion of the draperies flung back over the left shoulder, the folds of which hang obliquely (from the left shoulder to the right side of the waist and thence downward almost to the right knee,) thus breaking up