and in the central figure of "The Power of Light." Mr. Tinworth makes the ideal so real for us, that what has been, perhaps, mostly a tradition, becomes entirely a living fact. Whether it is Christ mocked at before Herod, or present at the Last Supper, declaring that one of the Apostles shall betray Him, or blessing the little children, Mr. Tinworth's conception of Him is, as we have said, so perfect in its art, that it never occurs to us to inquire whether he is right in this technical detail or that: we think only of the beautiful and pathetic story. "The Prodigal Son" illustrates one of the most striking parables by which Christ enforced His teaching.
Marriage a failure.
Like most geniuses, Mr. Tinworth allows himself moments of relaxation. He possesses a vein of humour not less pronounced at times than his power of treating the grandest subjects. He seems very conscious of the truth of the adage that the ridiculous and the sublime are never far apart, and even in so pathetic a picture as "Waiting for the Head of John the Baptist," it will be seen he has introduced a monkey, whose action forms a relief to the sombre features of the picture. In a panel of "Daniel in the Lions' Den" a young lion stands on his hind legs to read something on the wall. It is Psalm xci. which says, "Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder; the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under foot." The young lion's concern is explicable immediately, and even Daniel's peril for the moment cannot prevent a smile from the spectator. As a rule, however, Mr. Tinworth's humour has found vent in the devising of small ornaments. He has shown considerable partiality for mice and frogs. In a characteristic piece, "The Tug of War," which we illustrate, the mice and frogs are striving hard for the mastery. No doubt a good many of our readers have in their homes a little boatload of mice in Doulton ware, called "Cockneys at Brighton," in which some half-dozen mice are indulging in the favourite pastime of the Cockney at the seaside. One plays a concertina in the stern of the boat, and another in the bows hangs his head over the side in a dreadfully bilious manner. It is unpleasant to have to record that the mice have exhibited an utter want of gratitude for the immortality conferred upon them. Some of them recently ate away a portion of Mr. Tinworth's nether garments, and having declared war not only against the frogs but against the man who was equally fond of both, Mr. Tinworth has felt himself compelled to buy a mouse-trap, in which many of them play the parts of criminals instead of holiday-makers. A mug in Doulton ware contains a profile of Mr. Tinworth, which he facetiously describes as "G. T., his mug." In Henry VIII. he modelled in miniature, "A man who found marriage a failure, and liked it to be so." "Cupid Sharpening his Arrows" is a characteristic little piece. Mr. Pickwick has also taken Mr. Tinworths fancy, and a complete set of Æsop's Fables is among his less pretentious work.
Cupid sharpening his arrows.
Incomplete as this account of Mr. Tinworth's work must necessarily be, enough
