catalogue of guidebooks:  he is so arbitrary and paradoxical, lays down the law so imperiously, and contradicts himself so insolently, that a learner attempting to follow him in his theories will be hopelessly bewildered.  Yet nowhere are the eternal, underlying truths upon which art rests so clearly discerned and nobly defined as in Modern Painters, The Seven Lamps of Architecture and The Stones of Venice; and nowhere do we find such poetical or beautiful descriptions.  Yes, one should read these earlier books of Ruskin’s, if it be but for the pleasure they give.  All theories of art are useless for the American student who has not been abroad:  the object is not to make up one’s mind respecting the principles and limits of beauty in painting and sculpture, to form a code of aesthetics while the great pictures and statues of the world are still unknown; yet if a natural curiosity impel us to the inquiry, there are Lessing and Winckelmann, still the first authorities, despite some slight signs of human fallibility.

I will not say that all these stories of artists whose works one has not seen, that even the most brilliant and graphic descriptions of their works, have not often the bitter flavor of the Barmecide feast, but we must have faith and patience:  the real banquet will be forth-coming, and then we shall see what an appetite we bring to it from our studies.

SARAH B. WISTER.

BY THE LAKE.

“Who is she?” asked Maurice Grey of the lady with whom he was walking.

“Fay Lafitte,” replied the latter curtly:  then, as if by chance, she turned in another direction, saying, “You left them all well at home?”

The young man halted, forcing his companion to do the same, and with his eyes fixed on a figure pacing up and down the opposite alley, he remarked, “I suppose she is one of the reigning belles here?”

“Rather a solitary belle,” laughed his cousin.

“I should think even a belle might enjoy solitude at times,” rejoined Maurice, argumentatively.

The lady, Mrs. Clare Felton, slightly raised one shoulder, indicating thereby that the point in question did not interest her, and asked, “Shall we walk on?”

“Couldn’t you introduce me?  That’s a good soul, do.”

“My dear cousin, it is impossible:  the girl has a particular aversion to me.”

“Nonsense, Clare!  Don’t be ill-natured the first day I arrive.  How do you know she has?”

“We are neighbors at Felton, and—­”

“Neighbors in the country, I perceive.  Did their chickens destroy your flower-beds, or their cock wake you by crowing at unearthly hours in the morning?  Had they a barking dog they refused to part with, or was it the servants?”

“If you mean to be sarcastic I shall need support.  Now go on, and, notwithstanding your provoking innuendo, I will try to satisfy your curiosity.”