Philip Veit, who went to Frankfort in 1830 as Director of the Staedel Institute, was the first to settle down, and for all his energy could only for a very short time make that city into a seat of the Christian tendency in art. Of his pictures there, the fresco painted for the Staedel Institute, "The Introduction of Christianity into Germany by St. Boniface," is by far the most important. The apostle has hewn down the oak of Thor, and from where it once stood there flows forth the new spring of Christianity. The old Germans shrink back timorously, but the youths listen to the preacher, and follow his direction to the figure of religion which approaches with the palm of peace. In the background a church rises, and in the distance, by a limpid river, a flourishing town, in contrast to the sombre, primeval forest to which the Germans who reject religion are flying. "The two Marys at the Sepulchre," in the Berlin National Gallery, and the "Assumption," in the Frankfort Cathedral, date from a later period. It was of no avail to him that he mingled with his Nazarenism a certain air of the world, which found expression in a less ascetic language of form and a somewhat stronger sense of colour. In 1841 he had already a feeling that the restless, struggling age had passed him by. He abandoned his post and went to meet oblivion as Director of the Gallery at Mayence. [Illustration: _Munich, Albert._ STEINLE. THE VIOLIN PLAYER.] Overbeck, the only one who could not tear himself from Rome, remained, till his death in 1869, the "Young German Raphael," as his father had called him in a letter from Lübeck in 1811: a devout, religious poet, pure of soul and of fine culture, as one-coloured and one-sided as he was mild and tender. At the outset he knew, at least, how to extract from the old masters a certain naïve piety without positive character, whereas later he lost himself more and more in the arid formalism of dead dogmas. What was in his power to give he has given in pictures such as the "Entry of Christ into Jerusalem" and the "Weeping over the Body of Christ"--both in the Marienkirche at Lübeck, in the "Miracle of Roses," in Santa Maria Degli Angeli at Assisi, in the "Christ on the Mount of Olives" in the Hospital at Hamburg, and the "Betrothal of Mary" in the Berlin National Gallery--pictures which expressed nothing that would not have been expressed better at the end of the fifteenth century. His "Holy Family with St. John and the Lamb," of 1825, in the Munich Pinakothek, is in composition and type a complete imitation of the Florentine Raphael; his "Lamentation of Christ" in the Lübeck Marienkirche is reminiscent of Perugino; his "Burial" would never have existed but for Raphael's picture in the Borghese Gallery. His sentiment coincided exactly in devotion and godliness with that of Fra Angelico or of the old masters of Cologne, and when he devoted himself to programme-painting he lost all intelligibility. In the "Triumph of