ittle Princess. The one at Vienna
represents her as about three years old, dressed in red, standing by a
little table. Of this, Senor Beruete says that it is "one of the most
beautiful inspirations of Velasquez, and perhaps one that reveals better
than any other his power as a colourist; it is a flower, perfumed with
every infantine grace." Another standing portrait, though only a half
length, when she was not many years older, is that in the Salon Carre at
the Louvre, which is more familiar to us being nearer home and more
often reproduced. M. de Wyczewa praises it thus:--"The perfect
_chefs-d'oeuvre_ collected in this glorious salon pale in the presence
of this child portrait; not one of them can bear comparison with this
simple yet powerful painting, which seems to aim only at external
resemblance and without other effort to attain a mysterious beauty of
form and colour." At Frankfort again is a charming picture of the little
Princess, whole length, at the age of six or seven--a replica of which
is at Vienna. She is dressed in greyish white with trimmings of black,
and her hoop skirt is so enormous that her arms have to be stretched out
straight to allow her hands to reach the edge of her coat.

Of the three mythological subjects two are in the Prado, namely the
_Mars_ and the _Mercury and Argus_, while the third and most beautiful
is the _Venus at the Mirror_ recently purchased for our national
collection. These were all of them painted for the decoration of the
royal palaces, and we may therefore suppose that the artist was not
entirely at liberty either in the choice of his subject or in his method
of treating it. Certainly he does not seem to have been fond of painting
the nude, unless with men, and it is noticeable that he has posed his
model in this case with more modesty and reserve than is to be observed
in the pictures of Rubens and Titian. The Holy Church was sternly averse
to this class of painting, in which, accordingly, none of the Spanish
school indulged; but at the same time the royal galleries did not
exclude the most exuberant fancies of Rubens, Titian, Tintoretto, and
others, and Velasquez was in all probability commissioned by Philip to
paint this Venus--and another which has perished--along with the Mars
and Mercury without regard to the ecclesiastical authorities. But it is
hardly surprising if Velasquez availed himself less fully of the
privilege than a Flemish or Italian painter would no doubt h