I

that they involve much discussion in and out of Parliament; and, after the discussion, the provision of extensive, expensive, and complicated machinery. I have only tried to put myself in the place of the average Englishman, and from his point of view to propose something within immediate reach. I am strongly convinced that public opinion has advanced to a stage that makes it certain something will be done. am anxious that it should be done quickly, and that no serious mistake, such as might cause reaction, should be made. What has been done in Birmingham may not be, almost certainly is not, the best possible; but it has been found good and useful. might, I think, quite effectually stop the gap while better things are under discussion. It involves little expenditure; and consequently may be superseded without serious loss. It certainly effects much, even a large proportion, of what we are aiming at, and may be recommended as a safe and cautious step, such as English people prefer, in a direction in which I believe they have decided to go.

It

Lastly, I come to the question of ways and means. There seem to be three possible methods of raising funds; by taxes, by local rates, by voluntary subscription. The last may for this purpose be dismissed at once as out of the question. To provide a decent breakfast alone would require in Birmingham a subscription of nearly £5000 a year; a sum absolutely impossible to obtain by voluntary contribution. As a subscriber I have seen the last published accounts of the Birmingham Free Dinners Association. This charity has been in operation for from fifteen to twenty years, and has had among its officers, and on its committee and subscription list, some of the most influential people in the district. Its total

The National Review.

list of subscriptions and donations is under £300, and even this includes £75 contributed by the teachers in the Council schools. As between a tax and a rate, I am in favor of a rate; if for no other reason, because a local rate necessarily carries with it local administration, which, for this purpose, would be best and cheapest. A small sub-committee of the Town Council, with a single paid servant, who, besides being able to keep accounts, could make himself generally useful, on a salary of 358. or 40s. a week, could, on the lines of the system I have been describing, administer the whole of Birmingham; and a halfpenny rate would handsomely provide the funds required; indeed, three-eighths. of a penny would nearly meet the case. I am informed that probably neither general nor local powers at present exist, and that a short Act would have to be passed enabling the local authority to raise and apply such a rate. A Bill of this nature would be only permissive, and, if regarded as non-contentious, might be passed with the least possible delay. Thus it would operate more quickly than a tax; even though a tax once passed would have the advantage over a rate of being universal in its application. Certainly many local authorities would act at once, and I do not think the rest would long hesitate to follow their example. It may be objected that if the funds were supplied from a rate, the breakfast would be claimed as a right, and the supply would tend to become unlimited. I am so strongly impressed with the force of this objection that I would, for my part, prefer that Parliament should fix an upper limit to the rate permissible. Then I think things would arrange themselves very much as under the system which I have endeavored to describe.

George Hookham,

Queen Christina of Sweden, the daughter of the Protestant hero Gustavus Adolphus, is best known for having resigned at one and the same time the throne of her father and the faith for which he died. Most people also know that she spent the last thirty years of her life in Rome, and that during a visit to France in 1657 she had her equerry, the Marquis Monaldesco, brutally put to death in the castle of Fontainebleau.

It is less generally known that she was one of the greatest patrons of art of her time, a passionate collector and a fine judge and "connaisseur." Her interest in matters of art was as varied as it was deep. Herself a good musician, she kept for years a splendid orchestra and the best singers in Rome. She was the centre of the theatrical world in the Eternal City, and it was chiefly owing to her protection that Roman drama and opera did not succumb under the bigoted persecutions of Innocent the Eleventh. She was a dramatic writer of no mean talent. She started excavations in the hope of finding antique statuary, and eagerly bought what statues were offered to her, as far as her means allowed. Unfortunately she had them restored, too! And as for pictures her enthusiasm knew no bounds, not even those

of the purse. In the midst of great

financial troubles she did not hesitate to purchase the entire Carlo Imperiali gallery (1667).

That is what she practiced. Lofty, duty-bound, half-indifferent patronage was all she professed. This is what she wrote about it:

La Pinture, la sculture et tous les autres arts qui en dépendent sont des impostures innocentes, qui plaisent et qui doivent plaire aux gens d'esprit.

C'est un défaut à un honeste homme que de ne les aymer pas, mais il faut les aymer raisonnablement.

She was better than she made herself out to be in that pretentious sentence, and she was universally acknowledged in Rome as a "connaisseur" of as much taste as erudition. The painter Bazziggi used to say about her that she was unequalled as a judge and critic of art, and that he had never been to see her without learning something from her. This much for the possessor of the collection; now for the pictures composing it.

It was not in her own country that the Swedish Queen had found her treasures. Sweden was then in the midst of her glorious career as a military Power, but she lived still in a state of heroic simplicity which had not yet allowed letters or art to flourish. She was poor, suffering from the exhaustion which her temporary rank as a great power produced, for she had to keep up a state far above her means. She had fostered warriors, but not artists, and she had neither money nor wish to acquire works of art from abroad. It was to the fortune of arms that Christina owed the collections the royal castle of Stockholm contained. Nearly all her pictures had come there as spoils of war, part of the last but richest loot ever taken during the Thirty Years' War-a spoil of which the world was not destined to see the like until the days of Napoleon.

The first owner of the Queen's artistic wealth had been the Emperor Rudolph the Second. History has not much good to say about this degenerated scion of the Hapsburgs. Weak, false, indolent, and melancholy by nature, he further developed these undesirable qualities by what was then

considered a true princely education, for he was brought up by the Jesuits at the dull Court of his cousin, Philip the Second of Spain. At twenty he became King of Hungary; four years later, in 1576, Emperor; and he at once showed himself a willing tool of his former masters. He was largely responsible for the Roman Catholic reaction which brought about the Thirty Years' War, and his misgovernment ultimately led to his being compelled to abandon his hereditary territories to his brother Matthias (1611). He died, 1612, at Prague, which city had been his favorite residence, leaving a memory respected by few of his subjects, execrated by many, but cherished by artists, antiquaries, and curiosity dealers. For this bigoted and unmanly prince, who never was young, never married, and seldom smiled, was a passionate collector and a magnificent patron of art.

It was in the spacious halls of the Hradschin Palace at Prague that Ru dolph the Second assembled his treasures. He brought thither from Vienna the most precious of the numerous works of art which he had inherited from his father, the Emperor Maximilian the Second, and he at once set to work to increase his collections. His agents were constantly busy hunting up bargains for him. Spain, Italy, and Flanders were ransacked for him in search of pictures, statues, medals, coins, trinkets, jewels, and curios of every description. Year after year the Rudolphinische Kunst- und Wunderkammer became richer and more famous, backed as it was by the resources of an imperial purse and the zeal of imperial diplomacy and bureaucracy. The Emperor also called to Prague the principal artists of Germany and the Netherlands, and gave them liberal orders. The sculptor Adrian de Vriez, the engraver Giles Sadeler, and the painters Spranger, Hoefnagel, and

Heinz are among the best known of the artistic colony that settled in the Bohemian capital at his bidding. Diamond-cutters and workers in rock crystal were also in great demand, and, last but not least, alchemists and astrologers.

In

The only happy hours the Emperor knew were those spent in his museum, and with his artistic and scientific friends. Many of them were anything but first-rate men; some of them were downright rogues and swindlers; but it must be remembered that among those he protected and befriended were also the great pioneers of science, Tycho Brahe and John Kepler. Much might, perhaps, be said about the Emperor's taste. We have not much sympathy now for the art which marks the transition from the late Renaissance to the Barocco period, but it was the fashion in Rudolph the Second's time, and he was a man well able to understand and follow the direction of taste, but not competent to lead the way towards a new one. There were also a good many copies and school pictures among his "originals." some cases he knew it, and did not care much. In others he was deceived, as will unfortunately happen even to the best of connaisseurs. Many of the pictures the Emperor had ordered himself belonged more to the "wonder" section of the collection than to the artistic one. Such were a set of representations of fabulous animals, dragons, hippogriffs, and the like. These might perhaps be considered as the connecting link between the domains of art and natural history, which the Emperor wished to unite as closely as possible. He had also plenty of stuffed birds and other animals, as well as a great many curiosities which it would be difficult to classify. Where would you put, for instance, a set of teeth and a hand of a mermaid, or a glove made of human skin? Of dia

Queen Christina of Sweden, the daughter of the Protestant hero Gustavus Adolphus, is best known for having resigned at one and the same time the throne of her father and the faith for which he died. Most people also know that she spent the last thirty years of her life in Rome, and that during a visit to France in 1657 she had her equerry, the Marquis Monaldesco, brutally put to death in the castle of Fontainebleau.

It is less generally known that she was one of the greatest patrons of art of her time, a passionate collector and a fine judge and "connaisseur." Her interest in matters of art was as varied as it was deep. Herself a good musician, she kept for years a splendid orchestra and the best singers in Rome. She was the centre of the theatrical world in the Eternal City, and it was chiefly owing to her protection that Roman drama and opera did not succumb under the bigoted persecutions of Innocent the Eleventh. She was a dramatic writer of no mean talent. She started excavations in the hope of finding antique statuary, and eagerly bought what statues were offered to her, as far as her means allowed. Unfortunately she had them restored, too! And as for pictures her enthusiasm knew no bounds, not even those of the purse. In the midst of great financial troubles she did not hesitate to purchase the entire Carlo Imperiali gallery (1667).

That is what she practiced. Lofty, duty-bound, half-indifferent patronage was all she professed. This is what she wrote about it:

La Pinture, la sculture et tous les autres arts qui en dépendent sont des impostures innocentes, qui plaisent et qui doivent plaire aux gens d'esprit.

C'est un défaut à un honeste homme que de ne les aymer pas, mais il faut les aymer raisonnablement.

She was better than she made herself out to be in that pretentious sentence, and she was universally acknowledged in Rome as a "connaisseur" of as much taste as erudition. The painter Bazziggi used to say about her that she was unequalled as a judge and critic of art, and that he had never been to see her without learning something from her. This much for the possessor of the collection; now for the pictures composing it.

It was not in her own country that the Swedish Queen had found her treasures. Sweden was then in the midst of her glorious career as a military Power, but she lived still in a state of heroic simplicity which had not yet allowed letters or art to flourish. She was poor, suffering from the exhaustion which her temporary rank as a great power produced, for she had to keep up a state far above her means. She had fostered warriors, but not artists, and she had neither money nor wish to acquire works of art from abroad. It was to the fortune of arms that Christina owed the collections the royal castle of Stockholm contained. Nearly all her pictures had come there as spoils of war, part of the last but richest loot ever taken during the Thirty Years' War-a spoil of which the world was not destined to see the like until the days of Napoleon.

The first owner of the Queen's artistic wealth had been the Emperor Rudolph the Second. History has not much good to say about this degenerated scion of the Hapsburgs. Weak, false, indolent, and melancholy by nature, he further developed these undesirable qualities by what was then

considered a true princely education, for he was brought up by the Jesuits at the dull Court of his cousin, Philip the Second of Spain. At twenty he became King of Hungary; four years later, in 1576, Emperor; and he at once showed himself a willing tool of his former masters. He was largely responsible for the Roman Catholic reaction which brought about the Thirty Years' War, and his misgovernment ultimately led to his being compelled to abandon his hereditary territories to his brother Matthias (1611). He died, 1612, at Prague, which city had been his favorite residence, leaving a memory respected by few of his subjects, execrated by many, but cherished by artists, antiquaries, and curiosity dealers. For this bigoted and unmanly prince, who never was young, never married, and seldom smiled, was a passionate collector and a magnificent patron of art.

His

It was in the spacious halls of the Hradschin Palace at Prague that Rudolph the Second assembled his treasures. He brought thither from Vienna the most precious of the numerous works of art which he had inherited from his father, the Emperor Maximilian the Second, and he at once set to work to increase his collections. agents were constantly busy hunting up bargains for him. Spain, Italy, and Flanders were ransacked for him in search of pictures, statues, medals, coins, trinkets. jewels, and curios of every description. Year after year the Rudolphinische Kunst- und Wunderkammer became richer and more famous, backed as it was by the resources of an imperial purse and the zeal of imperial diplomacy and bureaucracy. The Emperor also called to Prague the principal artists of Germany and the Netherlands, and gave them liberal orders. The sculptor Adrian de Vriez, the engraver Giles Sadeler, and the painters Spranger, Hoefnagel, and

Heinz are among the best known of the artistic colony that settled in the Bohemian capital at his bidding. Diamond-cutters and workers in rock crystal were also in great demand, and, last but not least, alchemists and astrologers.

In

The only happy hours the Emperor knew were those spent in his museum, and with his artistic and scientific friends. Many of them were anything but first-rate men; some of them were downright rogues and swindlers; but it must be remembered that among those he protected and befriended were also the great pioneers of science, Tycho Brahe and John Kepler. Much might, perhaps, be said about the Emperor's taste. We have not much sympathy now for the art which marks the transition from the late Renaissance to the Barocco period, but it was the fashion in Rudolph the Second's time, and he was a man well able to understand and follow the direction of taste, but not competent to lead the way towards a new one. There were also a good many copies and school pictures among his "originals." some cases he knew it, and did not care much. In others he was deceived, as will unfortunately happen even to the best of connaisseurs. Many of the pictures the Emperor had ordered himself belonged more to the "wonder" section of the collection than to the artistic one. Such were a set of representations of fabulous animals, dragons, hippogriffs, and the like. These might perhaps be considered as the connecting link between the domains of art and natural history, which the Emperor wished to unite as closely as possible. He had also plenty of stuffed birds and other animals, as well as a great many curiosities which it would be difficult to classify. Where would you put, for instance, a set of teeth and a hand of a mermaid, or a glove made of human skin? Of dia