{{hwe|dent|President}t of the Berlin Academy. There is a great deal of poetical license in this painting, in that the figure is poised above a wealth of flowers, with Cupid presiding. To employ the most enthusiastic utterance as agreeing with here extraordinary skill as a dansense, we might quote―
"When she stood up for dancing, her steps were so complete,
The music nearly killed itself to listen to her feet."
The artist has robed her in gossamer, and shaped her with unexceptionable grace. Her light footfall is among the sweetest roses and lilies, and the young god of love with all his cunning art has won the smile that thousands pleaded for in the days that have fled. No. 46. Scene in the Catskill, by Paul Weber, 1858. A beautiful little picture, combining mountain and valley. A soft haze overspreads the peaks, but the light that falls upon the trees near the lowland brings out their vivid green, affording a decided contrast with the gray and brown of the rocks and stones. The moss on the rock wears a half red, half chromo tint. A tiny struggling streamlet is visible, such as is often seen in nature where embedded heaps of stone break up at varied distances the regular water course. No. 47. A Waterfall, by Robbe, after Achenback. As truly meritorious as are all of his productions. No. 48. The Lost Logs, by Von Thoren, 1873. Selected by Mr. W. T. Walters. This picture is so truthful that we might imagine ourselves glancing at the actual scene, lonely and bleak, the ground covered with snow. Nought is seen nor heard save these dogs and their piteous howls of distress. Description hath always failed to give an adequate idea of the dismal and sorrowful situation of the "lost," whether of human kind or the brute. Probably in the pathetic tale of the "Babes in the Wood," our
