Repetition. This has the same interesting place in art as in the child's story. Rhythmic repetition is catchy to the child in the story and his interest is guaranteed when the story teller returns to a common repeated sentence. So also, in the picture the child readily discovers the repeated figures which give to him a pleasing interest.

Some artists have made their subjects more interesting by the law of contrasts. Their contrasts may be contrasts of lines or colors, as horizontal to perpendicular, or light to darkness, beauty to ugliness, youth to old age. In Munkacsy's "Christ before Pilate" one cannot help observing the serene face of the Savior in contrast to the wild excited expression of the angry multitude of accusers. The child may not knowingly appreciate these primary features of composition, yet it is worth while for the teacher to fully appreciate every detail of composition that she may, at the proper age, point out these fundamental features of art appre

ciation.

(c) Meaning. The observation of the content and composition of the picture has only introduced the study to us. The real task is to study the meaning of the facts. Every picture of merit carries a significant message. This does not imply that all pictures are worthy of study. Like musicians too many artists have wasted talent on meaningless pictures. A picture must reproduce the highest genius of the artist in his deepest and most sublime thoughts. In the study of "Christ before Pilate," by Munkacsy, we have a message conceived by him from a careful study of the inci

dent and of Oriental life and custom. He presents it as a great drama staged in the Judgment Hall of Pilot. The following interpretation by Bailey in his treatise, "The Gospel in Art," gives us a full meaning of the picture and serves as a method of interpretation: "The scene is set for the Pretorium, or Judgment Hall of Pilate. On the 'bema' sits the Procurator

himself.

Below on benches are the various judges, who, to be sure, have no jurisdiction in a Roman court, but who represent the legal talent of the nation and lend dignity to the scene. To the left is the rabble that has pressed in to add the weight of its clamor to the evidence. Caiaphas is making a virulent speech: one can see that he is depending for his effort more on noise and gesture than on solid argument. He has the

self-assurance of a Pharisee as well as a Pharisee's intolerance and obstinate prejudice. Notice the other Pharisees, for each is a character-study. Below Pilate are two: the farther one utterly malignant, the nearer one beginning to fear that a mistake has been made. Next Pilate's hand is a judgment-wrangler who hopes to make Pilate look at him and take a tip on a point of law. Another stands up behind Caiaphas, his back against the wall, and looks down with curiosity and contempt on the prisoner. Under Caiaphas' raised arm three doctors of the law whisper about the case. Last and most impressive of these 'judges' is he on the front seat, a banker, self-complacent embodiment of the vested interests, a sort of Pharisaic 'Uncle Trusty' who believes that this innovator who has upset the money tables in the Temple has shaken the very foundations of society! He is certainly a masterpiece.

"Now follow the minor characters. See the bunch of usurers behind Christ-very likely victims of his recent cleansing zeal. See the scoffer who leans over behind Uncle Trusty in order to get a jeer squarely into the face of the prisoner. Another has climbed a bench and stretched out an arm toward his scoffing friend. On the left, held back by the soldier's spearshaft, a fanatic throws up his arms in a hired paroxysm of zeal and shouts, 'Crucify Him.' Every face carries his message, gives its judgment of the prisoner, and the judgment is always unfavorable. Christ has only one friend here-that sweet-faced mother by the arch-pier, a 'Madonna loose in the Sanhedrim.' She is

a foil to the chaos and the hatred of the mob, an embodiment of the Christian idea; powerless now, to be sure, but bearing in its heart the power that will regenerate the world. She will teach her little child to be a Christian, and through children the world will grow into righteousness.

"Pilate sits conspicuous against the background of his judgment seat. His robe is white and purple-bordered, the toga of a Roman senator. Behind him are the symbols of the power of Rome, the wreath, the fasces and the letters S.P.Q.R. that throughout the world proclaim the supremacy of the Senate and the Roman People (Senatus Que Romanus). Pilate has a strong face, yet in this instance it is 'miserably full of indecision.' Mechanically he hears the arguments, but his thought is busy with the bearings of the case upon his personal fortunes: 'If I release, what troubles will these High Priests make for me? If I condemn, what about Justice or a possible appeal to Cæsar?' His nervousness betrays itself as his fingers rise mechanically to keep count of the arguments in his brain. The politician, the trimmer, the time-server, the responsibility-shirker, is here worming his way through the possibilities, while the Justice of the Senate and the Roman people wait in the background.

"Christ stands in the center of composition, white against the background of his enemies. He is haggard from the physical strain and loss of sleep; yet with courage, dignity, calm forbearance, he looks his judge in the face and mutely demands justice. The loudly iterated charges of Caiaphas, the shouts of the