fury of the gale shall be spent? No. 28. The Death of Cæser, by Gerome. Selected by Mr. W. T. Walters, and to whom a large vote of thanks is due for having chosen a subject so grandly historical. At the base of Pompey's statue lies the body of the murdered Cæesar. The senate chamber on the fatal ides of March is deserted, the conspirators having first fled from the cruel work of their jealousy and passions. The silent halls, the cold stones, the motionless statues, even seem invested with the air of the dreadful deed committed, as all around is a solemnity that would still the pulses and paralyze the senses. Through the mind rushes a host of emotions at the sight of the bleeding corpse, the great man valiant in battle, kingly in intellect, vigorous in body; the invincible Roman cut down in a moment in the zenith of his glory, the keenest blow being that such sovereignty was ended by treachery under the guise of friendship. What is victory, fame or power now? What are temples, altars, and fickle honors worth, in that everything once bright with loyalty and homage is tarnished with falsity the most impious? All the grandeur and pride of the assembled senate, and all the bravery that is conceded to the Roman character, suddenly pales and deteriorates in the thought of Cæesar's assassins being men of dignity, high office and estate. Gerome is the great artist of this grand and difficult subject, and his successful handling of the same would entitle him always to select heroes and princes. He has drawn the figure painfully true to the death struggle, as the body wears the hue of violence, and appears as if the giving up of life were not an easy thing, even under the torture of three and twenty wounds. The toga enwraps the body, and it seems, indeed, worn as a mantle of dignity, the whiteness of which is stained only by the "ruddy drops" that Shakspeare describes
