The companion groups _A Gentleman and a Child_ (No. 1973) and _A Lady and her Daughter_ (No. 1974), date from about 1630. They are full of that aristocratic distinction which is the hall-mark of Van Dyck’s Genoese portraits, and which in his later English period was apt to degenerate into effeminacy. This air of distinction is also to be noted in the children, although they are perfectly natural in action and expression, and have none of that stiffness which makes so many of the earlier masters’ portraits of children look like undergrown men and women. The imposing equestrian portrait of _Francisco d’Aytona, Marqués de Moncada_ (No. 1971), Generalissimus of the Spanish troops in the Netherlands, which in its general disposition recalls the portrait of Charles I. at Windsor Castle; the small study for it of the same sitter’s head and shoulders (No. 1972); and the portrait of _The Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia, Regent of the Netherlands_ (No. 1970), in the costume of the Sisters of St. Clare, whom she had joined after the death of her husband the Archduke Albrecht, belong to the same period. Then also was painted the _Rinaldo in the Garden of Armida_ (No. 1966), which is probably the picture bought from the artist at Antwerp by Endymion Porter, on behalf of King Charles I., in March 1629, for the price of £78. “LE ROI À LA CHASSE” Van Dyck’s manner of life in England, as the petted Court painter of Charles I., and the factory-like output of his well-organised studio at Blackfriars, are too well known to need further comment. In justice to his fair fame it is necessary to draw a clear distinction between the innumerable replicas turned out by his assistants under his guidance, and such magnificent original works from the master’s own brush as the glorious _Portrait of King Charles I. of England_ (No. 1967, Plate XXIII.), known as “_Le Roi à la Chasse_,” which is one of the proudest possessions of the French national collection. The king is seen, resting his gloved hand on a stick, in a glade, with the sea in the distance. Behind him are two attendants and his white charger pawing the ground in impatient action. The king’s noble, quiet dignity is such as to dominate the entire composition, without, however, the slightest hint of the theatrical. Here, as in most of his English portraits, Van Dyck has departed from the glowing sumptuousness of his earlier Venetian palette, and arrived at a cooler, mellow, and more personal harmony of decorative colour. As if conscious of the superior merit of this picture, which is more than a mere portrait of the king, and depicts the very personification of royalty, the artist, who was not in the habit of signing his pictures, inscribed on a stone the lettering CAROLUS I REX MAGNÆ BRITANNIÆ · VAN DIICK F.