gino. Beneath this ceiling is placed a copy of the celebrated Graces" of Germain Pilon, remarkable as embodying in the principal figure a no less notorious and celebrated personage than Catherine de Medicis, and which those who have visited the museum of the Louvre will remember as one of the most remarkable of the many works of art in that museum.

Crossing the larger court, the visitor will now inspect a small loggia, divided into three compartments, on the vault of which, exquisitely painted, are copies of the twelve signs of the Zodiac, found in the entrance to the Certoza at Pavia. The pavement is formed of rich mosaic, and the walls are decorated with elegant arabesque ornaments.

Passing into the nave, the façade of the court displays one of the most successful restorations in this department of modern art. The building represented is the Hotel Bourgtheroulde, at Rouen, and affords an admirable idea of the peculiar richness of the decorations adopted in this period, and the pleasing effects produced by the judicious use of gilding upon external structures. On the upper portions of the hotel are copies of the great frieze from the Hospital for the Poor at Pistoia, representing the Seven Acts of Mercy, and upon the lower part is represented the meeting of Henry VIII. and Francis I. on the Field of the Cloth of Gold, an historical event, which will be referred to in connection with the monument of the latter monarch in the next series of the courts. The figures of St. George, by Donatello, and Bacchus, by Michael Angelo, are placed opposite to the façade of the court.

The rise and progress of Gothic architecture, from its earliest simplicity to its latest development of beauty and sublimity, and the revival of classic notions of art in France, Italy, and Germany, have now been traced. The visitor next proceeds to learn what particular phase the revival of classic art assumed in this country, at a time when the Gothic style succeeded to the Renaissance in other parts of the world. In England, this revival of antique art assumed so distinct a character from that which it exhibited in other countries, that it was deemed but just to its peculiar characteristics to devote a separate portion of the fine arts' courts to its illustration. Originally introduced into the country by Italian designers, the antagonistic influences of the Gothic system, then in vogue, offered perpetual obstacles to the adoption of the classic proportions in their pure and integral conditions; and the works of the architects and sculptors in consequence displayed a singular compromise between the vertical tendency of the Gothic, and the horizontal of the Italian art.

It was during the reign of Henry VIII. that the revival of the classic art on the Continent first spread in England, but no recognized arrangement of the details took place until the time of Queen Elizabeth, when a style was developed known as the Elizabethan, or Tudor. The peculiarities of this style consist in elaboratelycarved woodwork, full of quaint repetitions of classic details; ceilings executed in handwork stucco, in a variety of ingenious forms, and the walls frequently exhibited a combination of heraldic devices and rude arabesques. At a later period, the Renaissance developed itself into the grandest conceptions of palatial magnificence; as instances of this, may be mentioned the Banqueting House at Whitehall, by Inigo Jones, and St. Paul's Cathedral, by Sir Christopher Wren.

The decorations which sprung up with, and which appeared to run riot under this system, were of the most elaborate character; but ample and magnificent as were the details, the general cha

racter of the works of this period bore the indelible stamp and impress of their Gothic origin. The style of architecture which was finally developed, is, perhaps, the most valuable for general purposes of any which has yet existed, for it possesses qualities which make it available either for large or small edifices, and suitable alike for the grandeur of palatial residences, or the modest villa or road-side cottage, which, with its gabled roof, and projecting bay window, gives so picturesque an appearance to the suburban districts and road-sides of our country.

The building selected as the representative of the early style of this architecture, and which forms the façade of the court, is Holland House, Kensington, one of the most interesting and complete illustrations of this style to be found in the country. The internal decorations of this court convey an excellent idea of the gorgeous style which grew up under the Elizabethan system. A room decorated in a style similar to portions of this court now exists in the mansion of the Marquis of Northampton, at his seat in Castle Ashby. The lower part of the walls is painted plain, in a rich purple; above this, and reaching up to the first cornice, the walls are painted a beautiful pure blue. The visitor will remark a similarity in this treatment of the walls, between the Elizabethan and the Roman courts; in the latter case, however, the gorgeous magnificence of the Romans covered the walls with large slabs of marble; but in the absence of richly-coloured marbles in this country, deep and bright colours were employed upon the surface of the walls. The mouldings of the cornice are beautifully picked out in colour, and the panels of the frieze decorated with gold ornament. Between the lower and upper cornice, the space is filled in with rich diaper pattern, and the upper cornice profusely ornamented with gold and richly-coloured mouldings. The arches, pendants, panels of the door, beads and pilasters, are covered with imitations of small, inlaid, raised marble panels and jewels, which produce a pleasing and agreeable effect. The manner in which the a corations of this court, and the imitations of marbles have been executed, reflects the greatest credit upon the ability of Mr. J. L. Coulton, to whom was entrusted the whole of the decorative works of this court, as well as the beautiful restoration of the doorway of the Chapter-House of Rochester Cathedral.

Among the monuments in the court, the most conspicuous is that of the famous Duchess of Richmond, the mother of Henry VII., towards whose memory it is gratifying to find that the last Lancastrian monarch did find, amid his scheming, time and inclination to devote a passing thought. And right well did the noble Margaret, Duchess of Richmond, deserve that due honour should be done to her memory, for in her lifetime she vainly endeavoured to rouse the nobler qualities of her son, and to shame him into a more manly course, by threatening that "if the princes of Christendom would combine themselves and march against the common enemy, the Turk, she would willingly attend them, and 'be their

Ι

laundress in the camp."" It would have been to the credit of Henry VII. had he allowed the grateful feelings of a grandchild to have paid to the dust of Katherine of Valois, the same honour which he paid to that of his mother, Margaret, and not to have disturbed and left uncovered the body of the widow of Henry, the hero of Agincourt. The body of Katharine was removed by Henry VII. when laying the foundation of the chapel in Westminster Abbey, and placed by the side of her husband's tomb, and the gossiping diarist, Pepys, tells how he did see, by particular favour, the body of Queen Katherine of Valois, and “I had," he says, “the upper part of her body in my hands, and I did kiss her mouth, reflecting upon it that I did kiss a queen, and that this was my birthday-thirty-six years old--that' did kiss a queen."

Had Henry VII. performed his filial duty, the ecstatic Pepys would never have kissed-or worse--have told, that he had kissed the lips of the fair Katherine of Valois.

Few monuments would have been examined with greater satisfaction and interest by persons interested in English history, than the tomb of the monarch who, at Bosworth field, vanquished the last of the White Roses, who, by his marriage, brought to an end the desolating wars of the rival houses of York and Lancaster, and upon the ruins of both founded the dynasty of the Tudors. Who, in gazing upon this noble monument of Torregiano's art, could have failed to reflect that it was the tomb of the greatest master of state cunning that, perhaps, ever existed; of a man, who, having circumvented all with whom he had to deal in his lifetime, reared the costly shrine of the chapel at Westminster, superintended the erection of his own monument, and ordered three masses to be performed before it daily, so long as the world should last, in order that he might, if possible, deceive his own Maker, or dazzling posterity with his magnificent piety, conceal from them his treacheries, his crimes, and his cruelties?

Here, most appropriately placed, would have been the tomb of Henry VIII., the first Tudor sovereign. A strange and inconsistent career was that of the gay, handsome, and despotic Henry VIII., -never reign commenced under happier auspices, or ended with less regrets, than did that of this monarch. His first victories were gained by Surrey upon Flodden Field,

"Where shattered was fair Scotland's spear,
And broken was her shield,"

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and the last thought of the dying monarch was how he might best take the head of that gallant nobleman. Uncouple the dogs, and let us follow the sport!" said the brutal and unfeeling husband, when the signal gun announced that the axe of the execu tioner had severed the small and beautiful neck of the gentle and innocent Anne Bullen, and away he went coursing through Epping Forest with his gay and thoughtless courtiers and on the

morrow Lady Jane Seymour was the short-lived queen of the palace. At other times Henry was alternately the bosom friend and mortal foe of the noble Stafford, the haughty Wolsey, the accomplished More, the good Cromwell, and the pious Latimer. On the Field of the Cloth of Gold he vowed eternal friendship with Francis I. He lived to break his vow, and unjustly invade the territories of one whom he fondly embraced as a brother and cousin, saying, "I never saw a prince with my eyes, that might of my heart be more beloved; and for your love have I passed the seas into the farthest frontier of my kingdoms to see you." Sack Holyrood House and as many towns and villages about Edinburgh as ye conveniently can; sack Leith, and burn and subvert it, and all the rest, putting man, woman, and child to fire and sword, without exception, sparing no creature alive, and so this journey shall succeed most to his Majesty's honour," were the remorseless instructions of this monarch to the commander of his forces, the Earl of Hertford. England, steeped to her very lips in degradation, and weary of witnessing the burnings of now Catholic, now Protestant heretics, disgusted with the tragedies of beheading gallant and accomplished nobles, rejoiced at the death of a sovereign of such unbridled licentiousness and passion; and Protestants sighed that the proud title of "Defender of the Faith" had not been conferred upon one whose spirit was more in accordance, not merely with the principles of the religion he was to defend, but with the sympathies of common humanity.

In this court are placed the monuments of two queens whose names are intimately associated with the most interesting period of English history-they are those of Elizabeth, and of the sovely, but unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots. One queen for fortyfive years swayed the sceptre of her country with vast ability, and her memory is still fondly cherished and revered as that of the best of sovereigns. The other, although "descended from the blood royal of Henry VII., a married Queen of France, and anointed Queen of Scotland," fell, after nearly twenty years of cruel and unjustifiable captivity, beneath the fatal warrant of the jealous and haughty Elizabeth; and when the headsman's axe had done its work, and the bleeding head of Mary was held up to the commiserating gaze of the witnesses of her execution, only one voice-that of a furious and bigoted Dean-exclaimed, "So perish all Queen Elizabeth's enemies!" and only one voice responded to the loyal aspiration. Forget for a moment this crimson blot upon the escutcheon of Elizabeth, and her strange coquetry with the unfortunate Essex, and listen to her as mounted upon horse, she tells her "loving people" at Tilbury, "I know that I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart of a king-and of a king of England too! and think foul scorn that Parma, Spain, or any Prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realm. To which, rather than any dishonour shall grow by me, I myself will take up arms-I myself

her war