G. F Tupper, Printer, Clement's Lane, Lombard Street.

CONTENTS.

Etching.--Viola and Olivia.
Viola and Olivia 145
A Dialogue.--_John Orchard_ 146
On a Whit-sunday Morn in the Month of May.--_John Orchard_ 167
Modern Giants.--_Laura Savage_ 169
To the Castle Ramparts--_W.M. Rossetti_ 173
Pax Vobis.--_Dante G. Rossetti_ 176
A Modern Idyl.--_Walter H. Deverell_ 177
"Jesus Wept."--_W.M. Rossetti_ 179
Sonnets for Pictures.--_Dante G Rossetti_ 180
Papers of "The M. S. Society,"
No IV. Smoke 183
No. V. Rain 186
Review: Christmas Eve and Easter Day.--_W.M. Rossetti_ 187
The Evil under the Sun 192

The Subscribers to this Work are respectfully informed that the
future Numbers will appear on the last day of the Month for which
they are dated. Also, that a supplementary, or large-sized Etching
will occasionally be given.

[Illustration]

Viola and Olivia

When Viola, a servant of the Duke,
Of him she loved the page, went, sent by him,
To tell Olivia that great love which shook
His breast and stopt his tongue; was it a whim,
Or jealousy or fear that she must look
Upon the face of that Olivia?

'Tis hard to say if it were whim or fear
Or jealousy, but it was natural,
As natural as what came next, the near
Intelligence of hearts: Olivia
Loveth, her eye abused by a thin wall
Of custom, but her spirit's eyes were clear.

Clear? we have oft been curious to know
The after-fortunes of those lovers dear;
Having a steady faith some deed must show
That they were married souls--unmarried here--
Having an inward faith that love, called so
In verity, is of the spirit, clear
Of earth and dress and sex--it may be near
What Viola returned Olivia?

A Dialogue on Art

[The following paper had been sent as a contribution to this
publication scarcely more than a week before its author, Mr. John
Orchard, died. It was written to commence a series of "Dialogues on
Art," which death has rendered for ever incomplete: nevertheless, the
merits of this commencement are such that they seemed to warrant its
publication as a fragment; and in order that the chain of argument
might be preserved, so far as it goes, uninterrupted, the dialogue is
printed entire in the present number, despite its length. Of the
writer, but little can be said. He was an artist; but ill health,
almost amounting to infirmity--his portion from childhood--rendered