essentially aristocratic, fitted for the temples of an aristocratic church and the palaces of the lay aristocracy. Yet, to repeat, it was also inspired by a great religious need, so that it was fitted for the masses as well as for their rulers. Such was the great art of the world at the period when Charles V abdicated. Yet even by 1555 the tide has begun to ebb. Of all the great Florentines Michelangelo alone remains, and he has ceased from painting and sculpture. The giant brood survives only in the persons of Titian, Paolo Veronese, and Tintoretto. The last named will live out nearly the remainder of the century, after which the art of Italy will be in the hands of “mannerists” and “eclectics,” groups whose very names suggest that they are but fanning a flame already dead. Only the “naturalists” will have something in them of the modern spirit. Meanwhile among the painters of the Netherlands there is as yet little or nothing of the distinction that will grow between Hollander and Flemish. The principal seat of painting is Antwerp, and its school has already been Italianized. Even Lucas van Leyden, the personal friend of Dürer, and at first an original genius inclined toward Gothic feeling, had before his death in 1533 gone over to Italian influence. Admirably representative of this influence is the large triptych by Barend van Orley, now in the Antwerp Museum. Its central panel shows _The Day of Judgment_. In the vault of the sky Christ appears, enthroned upon a rainbow, his feet resting on a globe. He is encircled by clouds, below which a ring of angels supports a cross, while to the right and left are seraphs sounding their trumps, and all the distant air is aquiver with angelic forms. Hovering midway between earth and sky is St. Michael, the archangel. Down on the earth are the myriads of the risen: the good on one side, in orderly bands, lifting hands and heads toward heaven, and on the other the lost souls in a tumult of flames and smoke. In the side panels the works of mercy are represented; grave personages ministering to the sick and the halt and the blind and the dying, in a spot dignified by monumental architecture, above which, seated on clouds, are ranged the Madonna and the saints. The superb composition, unquestionably suggested by that of the _Disputá_, is one which Raphael himself need not have been ashamed to design. But the figures that appear large in the foreground exhibit a realism of nudity and an individuality of separate characterization that bespeak the artist’s Flemish origin. Notwithstanding his Italian training he had still retained his racial instincts for naturalism. But this fine work was finished in 1525, and the artist died in 1542.