the sea. In the Boston Art Museum are two of his famous pictures. In one we see the sailor at the lookout calling, “All’s well,” as the bell behind him swings out its measure of the hour. In the Fog Warning a fisherman in a dory pulls a strong ear to race with the fog which is just rising above the horizon. The Gulf Stream in the Metropolitan Museum is in a more tragic vein, where a wrecked fishing-boat is rolling in the trough of a heavy sea. Another very thrilling and more cheerful subject is the Life Line. Across the surging waters the rescuer carries his human burden, swinging from the cable on which they are both drawn to safety.
Nearly all boys like pictures of ships which suggest romantic adventure. Turner’s Fighting Téméraire is a great historic masterpiece which, rightly read, tells a thrilling tale of naval prowess. A stately old battle-ship, no longer fit for service, is towed to its last anchorage by a steaming little tug. A glorious sky gives dignity and distinction to the event, like a triumphal funeral march. The frigate Constitution, “Old Ironsides,” corresponds to the Téméraire in our own American history, and this has been painted by a contemporary artist, Marshall Johnson, in two subjects, one showing the ship in full sail alone, and the other showing the victorious frigate in contrast to the dismantled Guerrière. A few other sea subjects are in our list.
A fascinating class of story pictures, and one which is very conspicuous in the art of the old masters, is that dealing with the lives of the saints, heroes, and
