readers will perceive, to illustrate the evils of homœopathy.[1] This idea is well carried out through the whole picture. The thin old lady at the head of the table is in the painter's best style; we almost fancy we can trace in the eye of the other lady a lurking suspicion that her glasses are not really in fault, and that the old gentleman has helped her to nothing instead of a nonillionth.[2] Her companion has evidently got an empty glass in his hand; the two children in front are admirably managed, and there is a sly smile on the footman's face, as if he thoroughly enjoyed either the bad news he is bringing or the wrath of his mistress. The carpet is executed with that elaborate care for which Mr. Herring is so famed, and the picture on the whole is one of his best.
"The First Ear-ring."
The scene from which this excellent picture is painted is taken from a passage in the autobiography[3] of the celebrated Sir William Smith[4] of his life when a schoolboy: we transcribe the passage: "One day Bill Tomkins[5] and I were left alone in the house, the old doctor being out; after playing a number of pranks Bill laid me a bet of sixpence that I wouldn't pour a bottle of ink over the doctor's cat. I did it, but at that moment old Muggles came home, and caught me by the ear as I attempted to run away. My sensations at the moment I shall never forget; on that occasion I received my first ear-ring.[6] The only remark Bill made to me, as he
