been too much neglected by the rest of his countrymen. Such tendencies as he may have inherited toward the more intellectual forms of art were at least not discouraged by his early association with Leighton and his study in the atelier of Gleyre at Paris. Owing to his delicate health, Sir Edward's regular education was much interrupted. Shortly after his birth at Paris (March 20, 1836), he was brought to England, and he spent his childhood in the neighborhood of Westminster Abbey, first in a house at Poet's Corner, now demolished, and afterward in one at Queen Anne's Gate, which is still in his possession. After a short time at Westminster School he was sent to

Brighton College in 1849, and to Ipswich Grammar School in 1850, but the winter of 1852-53 was spent in Madeira, by the doctor's orders. Here he continued his studies under a tutor, and spent much of his time in sketching the scenery in the neighborhood of Funchal, having obtained from a Mr. Thomas Boys some instruction in the use of water-colors. The next year was spent in Rome, where he made the acquaintance of the young Frederick Leighton, then engaged in his celebrated picture of "Cimabue's Madonna Carried Through Florence." It was this meeting that determined the direction of the present president's career. It commenced an associa

tion, friendly and artistic, which was to last till the elder's death. When the two youths (or young men) met, for Leighton was but twenty-three and Poynter seventeen, little did either of them think that they should both occupy the presidential chair of the Royal Academy.

Six years only between these two artists; but at their time of life six years is a very considerable period. Leighton was already an accomplished artist, after a long and severe training at Florence, at Paris, and more especially at Frankfort, under Steinle; Poynter was a mere tyro who had had no training at all, and had not even made up his mind what sort of training he desired. This important step,

He

however, was decided at Rome as he worked in Leighton's studio and watched the progress of the great picture. would be a painter, and not a painter of landscape, but of the figure. His father consenting, he went to Leigh's well-known school in Newman Street, and shortly afterward received some instruction from Mr. W. C. T. Dobson, R.A., and entered the schools of the Royal Academy. His dissatisfaction with the English training and the result of it was started or accentuated by a visit to Paris in 1855, at the time of the great Exhibition, where he was greatly struck by the works of the modern continental schools, and especially with a series of designs by Decamps. His

strong desire to transfer his studies from London to Paris was soon gratified, and on the recommendation of his uncle, the Baron de Triqueti, the sculptor (some of whose marble inlays may be seen at the Mausoleum at Frogmore), he entered the atelier of Gleyre (the stanch upholder of the traditions of the school of Ingres, but also the painter of "Illusions Perdues"), where he worked for three years (185659), in company with, amongst others, Mr. James McNeill Whistler, Mr. Val Prinsep, R.A., and the late George du Maurier. On leaving Gleyre's studio, he and his friends, Du Maurier, Lamont, and Thomas Armstrong, set up one for themselves in the Rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs, which is the very studio immortalized by Du Maurier in "Trilby." The character of The Laird is taken from Lamont, and,

according to Sir Edward, the picture of their student life in Paris is very faithful, except that there was no Trilby.

Poynter returned to England in 1860 a well-trained artist, an excellent draughtsman of the figure, and with his sense of composition and decoration well developed. In 1861 a pen-and-ink drawing of a girl, called "Alla Veneziana," was exhibited at the Royal Academy, and the next year two pictures, "Heaven's Messenger" and "A Bunch of Blue Ribbons (now in the collection of Mr. A. A. Ionides), were hung upon its walls-the former of these, a scene from Dante, having been previously rejected. But his artistic energies were already engaged in more decorative work. While still at Paris he had executed some designs for stained glass for Messrs. Powell, of Whitefriars,

perimental only; the shield and the children were replaced by a more formal design for the mosaic.

I am inclined to regard the series for the fresco at St. Stephen's, Dulwich, as the finest of all, and certainly as the most interesting from a human point of view, as they are studies not only of form and action, but also of character and expression. In the latter qualities the finished composition stands almost alone amongst his works. It stands alone also in the class of its subject, being, so far as I know, the only completed work of any importance in which he has attempted to express pathetic religious feeling, and it is so great a success that one cannot help regretting that he has so seldom exerted his powers in this direction. It fills the tympanum of a blind pointed arch, and contains two compositions. The upper represents Stephen before the Sanhedrim, the lower the Saint being led out to his martyrdom. The former is grandiose in design, the scene being laid in a temple of rich Renaissance architecture, with marble columns and elaborate throne, much in the style of Mantegna and other artists of North Italy. In this imposing chamber there is no fig

ure which is not fine in physique and strong in character, and the grandest of all is the High Priest. But yet none of them can divert attention from the figure of the Saint himself-a singular combination of sweetness and dignity, who stands before them with upraised hands and his face turned to the heavenly beams which slant from above. His face is rapt with the vision of "the heavens open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God," but the expression is simple and unaffected. The long low picture at the base, with smaller figures, like a predella, is quite worthy of the main composition, and as many of the figures are scantily draped, displays with greater effect the artist's knowledge of the figure and skill in draughtsmanship. The saint is being led forth between two soldiers, who are endeavoring to protect their prisoner from the fury of the crowd, which is represented by about half a dozen fierce men picking up and hurling stones. Again the figure and expression of the saint are beautiful, and the varied attitudes and gestures of his enemies fine and full of character.

Another very fine series of drawings is that made for "Atalanta's Race," which is

on the whole the most successful of the four decorations of Lord Wharncliffe's billiard-room at Wortley Hall. The running figure of Milanion casting a glance over his shoulder was the subject of many of his finest studies in charcoal and pen and ink, but more interesting perhaps are those in which he endeavors to solve the very difficult problem of drawing the arrested action of Atalanta as she turns to swoop upon the golden ball. For the whole composition there are at least two careful sketches differing in details.

After the completion of "A Visit to Esculapius" in 1880 Sir Edward was much engaged in his designs for the decoration of the dome of St. Paul's, in which he was

associated with his friend Leighton, whose design of the sea giving up its dead is now in the Tate collection at the new National Gallery. They followed in general architectural arrangement a design left by the great sculptor Alfred Stevens, but except one or two of the larger spaces left for Leighton, the very numerous and beautiful designs themselves were entirely his own. Unfortunately this scheme, upon which all his knowledge and skill was brought to bear, had to be ultimately abandoned. Nor is this the only disappointment of the kind which, from no fault or incompetency of his own, Sir Edward has had to bear, involving the waste of months of thought and labor. From this and other causes he was