The modern pictures at the museum are of varying interest—­Braekeleer, Stobbaerts, Verlat, Scheffer, Cabanel, David (J.L.), Wiertz, Wauters, Wappers, some elegant Alfred Stevenses, De Bock the landscapist, Clays, Van Beers, Meunier, Breton, Bouguereau, and a lot of nondescript lumber.  In the spacious approach there is one of Constantin Meunier’s famous figures.  You rejoice that he followed Rodin’s advice and gave up the brush for the chisel.  As a painter he was not more than mediocre.

The four Van der Weydens in the gallery of Primitives are not all of equal merit.  The Annunciation is the most striking.  The early master of Memling is distinguished by a sweetness in composition and softness in colouring.  Mention must be made of the De Vos pictures by the Cornelis, Martin, and Simon.  A portrait of Abraham Grapheus by the first-named is one of the most striking in the museum, and the self-portrait of the latter, smiling, is brilliant.  Rombouts is a sort of Adrian Brouwer; his Cavaliers Playing at Cards recalls Caravaggio.  Daniel Mytens’s portrait of a lady is Rubenesque.

And all that choir of elevated souls unknown to us by name, merely called after the city they inhabited, such as the Master of Bray, or by some odd device or monogram—­what cannot be written of this small army which praised the Lord, His mother and the saints in form and colour, on missals, illuminated manuscripts, or on panels!  The Antwerp Museum has its share of Anonymous, that master of whom it has been said that “he” was probably the master of the masters.  Antwerp is a city of many charms, with its St. Jacques, St. Andres (and its carved pulpit), St. Paul and the Cathedral, and its preservation of the Flemish spirit and Flemish customs; but for us its museum was all in all.

MUSEUMS OF BRUSSELS

Considering its size and significance, Brussels has more than its share of museums.  At the beginning of the Rue de la Regence, near the Place Royale, stands the imposing Royal Museum of old paintings and sculpture.  The Museum of Modern Art is around the corner and adjoins the National Library, which is said to harbour over six hundred thousand volumes.  In the gallery of old art the effect of the sculptors’ hall, which is in the centre and utilises the entire height of the building, is noble.  The best sculpture therein is by Rodin and Meunier; the remainder is generally academic or simply bad.  Rodin’s Thinker, in bronze, is a repetition of the original.  After the wreathed prettiness of the conventional school—­neither Greek nor Gothic—­and the writhing diablerie of Rodin imitators the simplicity and directness of Constantin Meunier is refreshing.  He was a man whose imagination became inflamed at the sight of suffering and injustice.  He is closer to Millet than to his friend Rodin, but he lacks the sweetness and strength of Millet.  Selecting the Belgian workman—­the miner, the hewer of