Solon, Mr. F. Wellington Ruckstuhl (the sculptor of the busts of Goethe, Macaulay, and Franklin, in the Entrance Portico); Kent, Mr. George Bissell; Newton, Mr. C. E. Dallin; and Henry, Mr. Herbert Adams, whom the visitor already knows for his work in connection with Mr. Warner on the bronze entrance doors, as well as for his little figures of Minerva in the Main Vestibule. Of these figures, two, the Moses and St. Paul, are ideal, though modelled, in a general way, according to conventions long established in Christian art. The Solon is an original study, although, of course, aiming to be entirely Greek in spirit and costume. The Homer follows an ancient ideal bust. The Herodotus and Plato are studied from original Greek sculptures. The features of the other ten are taken from portraits from life, and the costumes are accurately copied from contemporary fashions.

The Moses of Mr Niehaus holds the Table of the Law, and, like Michael Angelo's famous figure, is horned-a curious convention which crept into art from an ancient mistranslation of a passage in Exodus. The St. Paul is a bearded figure, one hand on the hilt of a great two-edged sword, and the other holding a scroll. Mr. Ruckstuhl has conceived his Solon as the typical law-giver of the ancient world. He is represented as stepping forward, clothed in all the power of the state, to announce at a solemn gathering of the people the supremacy of Law over Force. A fold

of his garment is drawn over his head with a certain priestly suggestion, as if the laws he proclaimed were of divine origin. He holds aloft, in his left hand, a scroll bearing the Greek words OI NOMOI, which, though meaning simply "The Law," were understood as referring especially to Solon's enactments. His right hand rests upon a sheathed and inverted sword, which is wreathed with laurel. The idea is that law has supplanted force, but that force is always ready to carry out the mandates of the law. Homer is represented with a staff in his hand and a wreath of laurel crowning his head. Mr. French represents Herodotus as a traveller, searching the known world for the materials of his histories. His garments are girt up, he bears a long staff in one hand, and shades his eyes with a scroll as he gazes into the distance to discover his destination. The Fulton carries a model of a steamboat, and the Henry an electro-magnet, for discoveries in electrical science. The Beethoven shows the composer with his hand uplifted as if to beat the measure of the harmony which has suddenly come into his mind so suddenly that in the eagerness of his movement he has pulled the pocket of his greatcoat inside out. Mr. Macmonnies's Shakespeare is a somewhat novel study, so far as the head is concerned; it is a composite of the portrait in the first collected edition of the Plays and of the Stratford bust. The figure of Kent wears the judicial ermine; he carries in one hand the manu

script of his Commentaries, and holds a pen in the other.

Of the other figures, some, like the Gibbon, carry a book or pen; but in most instances the sculptor has sought merely to give his subject an appropriately noble and contemplative attitude and expression, without introducing any special symbol of his work. Mr. Flanagan's Clock. The group ornamenting the great clock over the entrance to the Rotunda is the work of Mr. John Flanagan, the sculptor of the figures of Commerce. In a panel about 8 feet 6 inches square is arranged a dial structure in various colored marbles a rich deep red, sienna, and green African-incrusted with Malachite, Lapis Lazuli, Thulite, and other semi-precious stones. The dial is a sun in gilt bronze three feet in diameter, framed with a

wreath and garlands of intertwined oak and laurel in bronze patina. The hands of the clock are two intertwining serpents in enameled copper. On either side of the dial structure are seated figures in bronze, of students, typifying the "Reader" and the "Writer."

Including, of course, Mr. Weinert's and Mr. Martiny's work, it will be seen that no less than nineteen American sculptors have contributed to the decoration of the Rotunda. Considering the room-just for the moment, and for the sake of the special point of view-merely as a Gallery of Statuary, it will be seen how important and representative a collection of American sculpture has been brought together.

The Lighting of the Rotunda. The soffits of the arches upholding the dome are ornamented with a row of plain coffers; the larger arches which roof the alcoves within, carry a triple row of more elaborate coffers, each with a gilt rosette. The windows of stained glass, already spoken of as enclosed by these arches, are semicircular in form and measure thirty-two feet across at

the base. They furnish the greater part of the light needed for the illumination of the room. No shadows are cast in any direction. Being so high above the floor, the light from them is much more effective than if they were nearer the level of the reader's eye. They are better even than skylights, and with none of the disadvantages of skylights. Other sources of light are the various

little windows pierced in the four walls of the Octagon which face the interior courts; and, above, the eight windows of the Lantern. It has been said that no reading room in the world is so well lighted-so steadily, abundantly and uniformly, whether on the brightest or the darkest day. Mr. Blashfield's paintings in the dome, for example, can hardly be said to receive direct light from a single window in the room, but for all that, so perfectly is the light diffused, they are as easily made out as any decorations in the building.

In the evening, the light, which is furnished entirely by electric lamps, is quite as perfect in its way as in the daytime. In the second story of the arcading of the marble screens, a brass rod runs between the capitals of each arch, supporting in the centre a brass star of eight points, each point an electric lamp of thirty-two-candle power. With seven of these in each screen (except the west, where Mr. Flanagan's clock leaves room for only four), and eight screens, one has a total of four hundred and twenty-four lamps thus used. Above the cornice of the second entablature is a great ring containing three hundred and eight more. Similarly, a line of fifty lamps occurs at the bottom of each of the semicircular windows, making four hundred in all;

and in the eye of the lantern, so placed, however, that the lamps themselves are invisible, is a second ring numbering forty-six. On the floor, the reading desks are equipped, altogether, with sixty-eight bronze standards, each bearing three lamps, or two hundred and four in all. Add the number, seventy-six, which serve to light the Distributing Desk and the lower story of the alcoves, and the result is a grand total of fourteen hundred and fifty-eight, and a total candlepower of upwards of forty thousand. When the current is turned on and all these lamps are lit, the Rotunda presents a spectacle of light and shadow worth going far to see.

The Semicircular Windows. - It is calculated that, by putting stained glass in the eight semicircular windows, the amount of light admitted has been diminished almost exactly one-eighth; in other words, the result is the same as if one of the eight had been quite closed up. The loss, of course, is hardly appreciated in a room sufficiently supplied with light from such a number of

60urces.

The windows are double, with about four inches between the two sashes. The glass used for the outside is plain, but of different degrees of translucency, according as it is necessary to prevent the entrance of direct sunshine, which,

if admitted, would be disagreeable to the occupant of the room and would distort the desirable even effect of the stained glass within. Thus, in the east and west, ribbed skylight glass is used; in the southeast, south, and southwest, ribbed and ground glass; while on the other three sides, where the sun never comes, the glass is left perfectly clear.

The cartoons for the stained glass were made by Mr. Schladermundt, after designs prepared by the architect, Mr. Casey. The ground is a crackled white, leaded throughout into small, square panes. In order to give an effect of boldness and strength, the windows are divided vertically by heavy iron bars. The design is surrounded by a richly colored border of laurel, combined with rosettes and Roman fasces. At the top, in the middle of each window, is the great seal of the United States, four feet high, surmounted by the American eagle, whose outstretched wings measure eight feet from tip to tip. To the right and left, following the curve of the window, are the seals of the States and Territories, three on a side, or six in each window, so that forty-eight — excluding only Alaska and Indian Territory- are contained in the eight windows. Torches alternate with the seals, and the fasces are introduced at the bottom.

The name of the State or Territory is inscribed above each seal, with the date of the year in which it was admitted to the Union, or organized under a territorial form of government. The seals occur in the order of their dates, the series beginning with the Thirteen Original States — which start in the easterly window in the order in which they signed the Constitution and continuing around the room to the three Territories of New Mexico, Arizona, and Oklahoma. Taken all in all they form one of the most interesting decorations in the Library, for the reason that the artist has succeeded in making a harmonious whole out of a very heterogeneous collection of designs. The originals, of course, were separately drawn, often by persons unacquainted with heraldry, and never with any particular thought of fitting them into a single series like the present. The result is that these originals show the greatest diversity of treatment. The key, so to speak, is continually changing. Sometimes, for example, a figure introduced in the foreground is dwarfed by an altogether disproportionate background, while in other cases the figure overpowers everything else; copied exactly, any heraldic or artistic unity of effect would be entirely lacking. Accordingly, after getting together a complete collection of the seals in every instance an authentic impression of the original obtained from the State secretary- Mr. Schladermundt re-drew, and often almost redesigned his material to bring it into accordance with his decorative scheme. Just what it was that Mr. Schladermundt undertook to do may best be seen in the accompanying engravings of the Seal of Kansas, the first giving the seal as used on official papers, the second copied from Mr. Schladermundt's cartoon. It will be seen that the spirit of the seal and its heraldic intention are the same in both. The only difference is that in Mr. Schladermundt's design certain changes of proportion have been made to make the seal harmonize with the style to which the artist wished to have all his designs adhere. In many cases, particularly in the seals of the Thirteen Original States, the original has hardly been changed at all. In the seal of the State of Washington, indeed, which consists merely of a portrait of Washington himself, Mr. Schladermundt has unobstrusively added the Washington arms in the upper corner of the design, in order to suggest the desirable heraldic conventionality more fully; occa