Never before in the course of a long and busy career has the President of the Royal Academy sent so many works to the summer show at Burlington House as this year; and never, probably, have his exhibits been more characteristic of his many-sided genius.

We naturally deal with the most important picture first. The title which Sir Frederic Leighton has finally selected for this work is taken from the twentieth chapter of the Revelation ”And the sea gave up the dead which were in it.” It is, in a word, a vision of the Last Judgement. Three figures dominate the spacious canvas. In the centre is a man-the only living being of the group-who with his right arm supports his wife, while with his left he clasps his boy who clings with filial affection to his side. The three are being slowly drawn by some unseen mysterious all-compelling force from the depths of an inky and turbulent sea upwards. The man’s eye is fixed upon the heavens, which are strangely troubled and filled with an unnatural light-“a dramatic sky,” as the artist tersely and fittingly describes it-and it expresses hope tempered with fear. The interval between death and judgment is at an end; the soul has dawned; and filled with thoughts of his early career, the man gazes with awe upon the great white throne, whereupon sits the author of his being with the great book of Life. His wife still sleeps the sleep of death; but a certain warmth of colour in the limbs of the half naked boy indicates his rapid return to existence. Hard by the dominant group is a half risen corpse, whose arms are folded across the breast, and who is still clad in the cerements in which he was committed to the deep; while king and commoners are rising in the background. For “the dead, small and great,” are to stand before God. The design for this picture was prepared some years ago, and it was originally intended for the decoration, in mosaic, of the dome of St Paul’s. eight large circles were to be filled by Sir Frederic Leighton, and a number of smaller ones by Mr Poynter. The subjects-all Scriptural of course-were chosen by the Dean and Chapter, and this pictorial rendering by the President of the verse in the Revelation was actually “offered up.” But the public did not warmly support the scheme; and it consequently fell through. When, however, Mr Tate approached Sir Frederic with the object of purchasing a picture for his collection, the artist at once thought of this design, which he regards as the best thing of the kind that he has ever done. Hence the picture which now hangs at Burlington House.
The picture from the same brush which hangs in the large gallery (No 111) is circular in form like the last-named, but smaller in size and of an entirely different character. This design is full of youth, and beauty; the colour is rich and warm-almost voluptuous. In the place of dead men rising from their graves we have the tree of life with its golden apples; for a rocky coast we have the beautiful Garden of Hesperides, with the purple ocean beyond. The three daughters of Atlas sit beneath a the wonderful tree, around the trunk of which is wound the body of a huge serpent. The girl in the centre, who is half-draped, caresses the scaly hide of the monster; her sister on the right sings to the accompaniment of a lyre; while the maiden on the left toys carelessly with the food which she holds in a bowl. The grace and serenity of the composition are eminently characteristic of the President’s later manner.

We have spoken of the striking contrast that exists between the two works we have described. “A Bacchante” (257) and “At The Fountain” (156) are equally different in style and in treatment. The former portrays a dark-skinned damsel, full-blooded and keen to taste the delights of existence, who dances merrily along a beechen forest, her dappled fawn at her side. She appears intoxicated with the joy of living, gaily snaps her fingers at care and sorrow, and beats her tambourine with all the abandon of excited youth. The colouring of this picture is warm and intense-as well in the flesh tints as in the leopard skin which covers her body, and in the coronal of ivy leaves which binds her rich brown hair. “At The Fountain,” on the other hand shows us a young, pure, and tender girl. “in the maiden meditation, fancy free.” Here the tones are limpid and soft, a delicate colour predominating. The sky is of a beautiful light-blue colour; the cool whiteness of the marble is accentuated by the fresh running water; and the palest of pale lemons hang on the wall.

We have left ourselves but little space to deal with Leighton’s landscape (489)-in some respects as important a work as any that he has sent to this year’s Academy. It represents a sunset-a remarkable sunset, and one which impressed him very much when he saw it in Ireland some years ago. Here again, we have what may best be described as “a dramatic sky.” The simple title of this work is “Clytie.”

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