these two columns the mind is led up to a tympanum containing an allegory of the "Triumph of Law;" this is crowned by a group of "Justice." A similar group of "Peace" is placed on the east end.

Daniel Chester French is the sculptor of this group of "Justice;" it is worthy to be reckoned as equal to his "Peace" on the Dewey Arch, the statue of "Liberty" at the World's Fair, "Washington" at the Paris Exposition, and "Death Staying the Hand of the Sculptor "in Boston. Justice itself is not perhaps so nicely balanced as the Columbian goddess, for she holds in each hand a torch level with her head, making the pose slightly archaic, and her face, looking down, has neither the definite strength of the "Liberty " nor the sweetness of "Peace" on the Arch. But the figure is truly monumental, and the perpendicular sides of the plinth on which she stands, together with the upright torches, by their vertical lines bring the group very properly into a unison with the severe architectural forms of the building. This quality, which some of the more flamboyant statues on the building lack, is completed by the two male figures in entire repose at her feet, one reading a book of law, the other resting content as it were in his strength, and both modeled with muscular fullness. They form the base of a triangle of which "Justice's " head is the apex, and which, though in no way too obvious, is easily discernible by the expert; the whole composing a mass that has been tried and found acceptable since the days of perfect Grecian art. Mr. French has recently returned from Europe, where he saw to the erection of his Washington," one of the features of the Paris Exposition. He is busy at present on several commissions, among them six figures for the State Court-House at St. Paul, Minnesota, and new doors for the Congressional Library.

Upon the attic of the Twenty-fifth Street front stand eight statues; several of them are by sculptors who have done previous work on the Dewey Arch, "Mohammed," by Charles A. Lopez (who made the group of "The East Indies," north of the Arch), being that nearest the west. The Moslem prophet wears Oriental robes and holds a large scimitar. Viewed from every side, no disturbing masses mar the repose of this calm figure. Following it

comes E. C. Potter's "Zoroaster," and the great occult is somewhat more animated than the other figures. His gesticulating right hand hides his face from the Madison Avenue spectators, but from the extreme east he appears dramatic.

In "Alfred the Great," J. S. Hartley (who modeled the figures of Commodore Perry on the Arch) has conceived the father of English education as a stalwart Saxon, bearded, long-haired, a crown on his head, a long cloak flowing from his shoulders, holding a sword against his breast, and a book, presumably of his Anglo-Saxon translations, in his left hand. This is dignified and carefully finished in detail.

"Lycurgus," by George E. Bissell, is next; the Spartan seems to support too heavy draperies in the upper part, though the lines of the toga are good. In his right hand he holds a scroll; his left hand grasps his toga as an orator to-day grasps the lapel of his coat while addressing an audience.

Then, to the right, east of French's group, stands the classical figure, again in a toga, of "Solon," the Grecian father of jurisprudence, by Herbert Adams, whose figure of "Victory" from the Congressional Library was repeated at the foot of the masts north and south of the Arch.

Then follows "Louis IX.," by John Donoghue. Louis IX. is justly selected to represent the Gauls, as virtually the founder of French law; he was the first to introduce a code into France. Mr. Donoghue's figure is perhaps less picturesque than might be expected in these days when the great Rodin is showing us how tremendously powerful and monumental character-sculpture may be. Its action is more violent than that of the others; the left hand seems unnecessarily extended; the right hand holds a scroll with conspicuous volutes, and the drapery falls heavily from the shoulders.

Augustus Lukeman (designer of "Cushing" on the Dewey Arch), in his "Manu," has availed himself of the modern note, as the work seems almost painted in marble, à la Sargent, and has given us a hooded figure like that painter's "Hosea in the Boston Public Library. No doubt we would invite criticism for inconsistency should we, just after mentioning Rodin, say that this statue is

a trifle too modern; not because Mr. Lukeman has taken up a modern note and rung variations on it, but because he has over-emphasized the drapery rather than the character. We hazard the guess that, since few who see the building know who Manu was, and since on that account strong abstract characterization would have been as acceptable to them as feigned portraiture, Mr. Lukeman had a fine opportunity to create a credible abstract; perhaps he did indeed intend, in hiding the figure and almost hiding the face in the shadow of the hood, to convey rather the personification of mystery, as his lawgiver is the only one of the ten who is purely legendary. The statue depends for its effect, more than do the other figures, upon the time of day that it is lighted; much of the time the face is in shadow, but in the afternoon the sun, striking the features, brings them out in a picturesque aspect. And since the use of shadow in architectural sculpture is something of which the possibilities are hardly known in this country, Lukeman has at least made a successful experiment therein -an experiment which may serve as a text for other sculptors to work upon.

It must be borne in mind that, although Mr. Lord has more than once in the press and in speeches emphasized the value of an architect's being able to select his sculptors, and this building is probably far more successful for that reason than it would be had these sculptors been assigned their subjects by competition, yet it is still a problem to be solved, in this country, as to whether a number of sculptors can, without very special effort, produce a perfectly harmonized ensemble. The main difficulty is that the point of view as to treatment frequently differs in the minds of divers artists. Had Mr. Lukeman, for example, designed all the figures on the attic, the figure of "Manu might have been in perfect keeping with the rest, which also might have been suggestive in treatment. But in contrast to Mr. Hartley's realistic treatment of "Alfred the Great " Mr. Lukeman's “Manu" seems a trifle out of key.

The last figure is that of "Justinian," by H. K. Bush-Brown. Pediment groups by M. M. Schwartzott are above the windows of the entranceway; they are rather small in treatment, and represent

"Morning," "Night."

"Noon," "Evening," and

A tympanum group, "The Triumph of Law," by Charles Niehaus (who modeled the group on the Dewey Arch entitled "The Return "), surmounts the six columns of the Twenty-fifth Street portico. It is full of symbolism; here are the tablets of the law, a crescent moon, a ram, Father Time with his scythe, an owl, tablets of the law, etc., etc.

At the Madison Avenue end of the building four caryatides by Thomas Shields Clark, representing the four seasons, support the cornice. They could, perhaps, have more severity of line and thus be more fully supporting elements, but they have much beauty in detail and proper repose.

arms

Above them the group Peace," by Carl Bitter, surmounts the cornice over the Madison Avenue end. The goddess's are lifted and she holds up an olive branch supporting a cornucopia; below her, at her right, is a seated woman's figure, almost nude, holding a fasces; but this figure is a trifle disturbing, seeming almost about to rise, and the imminence of such action in a cornice figure of course arouses in the spectator a fear that it may fall. The arms of the figure "Peace" are bent at an ugly angle, and its drapery is not pleasingly disposed; the pose of the seated man is alert and may be seen well from the sidewalk, and, like Mr. French's men, the figure is well modeled.

It will be remembered that Mr. Bitter modeled the dramatic group of Uncle Sam's marine gunners in the thick of the fight representing "The Combat " on the Dewey Arch, and we are prone to think that Mr. Bitter will in the future distinguish himself as the sculptor of the nude male figure.

To the left (north) of this group is the figure of "Confucius," by Philip Martiny (author of "The Call to Arms" on the Arch). It is perhaps a conventional Chinaman rather than a great conception of the philosopher, but the hands are expressive and the folds of the embroidered robes are finely modeled. Martiny is a pupil of St. Gaudens, and is now at work on a monument to the late Garret A. Hobart, for Paterson, New Jersey.

To the left is the figure of "Moses," by William Couper (author of the panel

with "Mosaic Law;" then follows" Egyptian,' "Greek," and "Roman," "Law of the Abstract,' the Abstract," "Byzantian," "Norman," and "Common " law. Connecting the different periods is a purely decorative winged female figure carrying part of a scroll which meanders through the successive panels. Perhaps the decoration is stiff and flat, and the more animated groups of Robert Reid ("Peace," "Justice," and "Prosperity") and of W. L. Metcalf ("Justice" and "The "The Punishment of

Lighting the court-room we find a round dome of white and amber glass, designed, with the side windows, by Maitland Armstrong. Three large panels face the judges' dais, and behind it is a frieze by Kenyon Cox, connected with these panels by sixteen upright small frieze panels by Joseph Lauber, typifying the attributes of Righteous Judgment, Truth, Perspicuity, etc., and two long panels by George W. Maynard, representing the seals of the State and city of New York. The last, we understand, were hastily executed, this artist not having been called in till the last minute; they are, indeed, less decorative than Mr. Maynard's figures in the Waldorf café, but they have color quality sufficient to connect them satisfactorily wirh the other decorations. Mr. Lauber's, figures are in some places pretty and graceful, if not strong nor particularly mural.

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They represent "The Attributes of the Law." On the north wall, left, and adjoining the frieze by Kenyon Cox, is "Moderation;" then, in regular order to the right, follow "Veneration," " Perspicuity," "Eloquence," "Reticence," "Research," "Unity," and "Fortitude." On the south wall, "Justice," "Truth," "Philosophy," 'Courage," "Patriotism," Logic," "Knowledge," and "Prudence." Four end panels represent the "Four Cardinal Virtues ;" "Moderation" or Temperance" holding up the restraining bridle and curb-bit as a symbol; "Fortitude," a young man, one arm resting upon the hilt of a sword entwined with oak, the other resting on two volumes, the uppermost being inscribed "Lex Suprema," the lower "Lex Civitatis," signifying readiness to defend the Supreme Law of the country as well as the Laws of the Locality. "Justice" is represented by a female figure upholding, instead of the traditional scales, a tablet with the inscription "Diligite Justitiam qui Judicatis Erram" (Pay diligent love to Jus

ure.

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tice, ye who adjudicate the affairs of this earth). "Prudence" is in an attitude of admonition, holding in one hand a compass as a symbol of exactness and meas"Truth" is represented in the traditional way, holding up the mirror to nature. Philosophy" is a man of advanced years, a scroll across his knee, contemplating a skull held in one hand, while in the other he holds a sprig of apple-blossom, the flower which precedes the fruit; the idea ei represent Philosophy as conce question of existence. sidered worthy of a plac "Philosophy," which was meant brace all its subdivisions as framed Aristotle. Courage" is the young Da vid, with stone and sling; "Patriotism," a boy holding the shield and sword of his protector; "Knowledge," a female figure bearing the lighted torch and a tablet with the inscription "Fax Mentis Incendium Gloria" (The torch of the mind is the flame of glory). "Veneration of the Law" is a young Roman bearing the tablet "Lex" and firmly grasping a sword in its defense; "Perspicuity," a female figure upholding and gazing through a transparent sphere; "Eloquence," in the act of pleading, document in hand; "Reticence" in a firm posture drawing a veil across his mouth; "Research" is a female figure studying several tomes; "Unity," a youth holding two swords together by the blades, the blades not crossed-also supporting a bundle of staves.

"Statute Law," "Plenty Rewarding Industry," and "Peace and Commerce" are by Kenyon Cox. His firm draughtsmanship, the graceful lines in the drapery, a thoughtfully wrought out composition with striking symbolism, indicate a master workman. When he introduces a laurel wreath, a cornucopia, an hour-glass, a fasces, a plumet, caduceus, oak-branch, and an oar, he paints these symbols without going to that extreme of flatness which suggests the oilcloth pattern, or, on the other hand, to that realism which belongs to the easel picture.

Edwin H. Blashfield shows his familiarity with the Renaissance detail in his large panel-the right-hand one of the three facing the judges' dais. No familiar modernity of type is discordant with