be merely a fashion—being adopted with too much enthusiasm, followed with too much ardour, to last? Is there no fear of a reaction? Here are several questions to which we cannot reply with any certainty.

Yet, what matter? Among the works produced during the past five years or so—that is, since the full expansion of the movement—there are many which, by their originality, their technical perfection, deserve to remain. And remain they certainly will, to bear witness to the audacious fancy, the creative faculty of our artists, and as a sort of passionate homage laid by the men of to-day at the feet of the Eternal Feminine.

The name of M. René Lalique arises instinctively as soon as one begins to discuss the modern jewel. He is the renovator, or, preferably, the creator, of the art as we know it nowadays, and one can easily understand the enthusiasm and the admiration aroused by his work. M. Lalique is almost as celebrated as M. Edmond Rostand; and he at least deserves his celebrity, for he is a real, a very great, artist. And such he must indeed be to be able to make one forget his imitators, many of whose productions are as detestable as copies can be. At times even—most unjustly, I admit—one almost comes to hate the art of M. Lalique himself, so persistently is it badly imitated. One has been constrained before now to hate Raphael, on seeing a Cabanel or a Bouguereau! But enough of that!

The jewels by M. Lalique now reproduced are rather different, both in conception and in treatment, from his usual manner. Here he appears as a more direct observer of Nature, more devoted to simplicity and breadth. His new combs, with pansy—and sycamore-leaf motifs, in horn and silver—especially the exquisite one with sycamore seeds in horn, silex, black enamel, and obsidian, with golden insects here and there—show him still anxious to extend the field of his experiments, never tired of seeking fresh subjects and testing new materials. Instead of remaining stationary and falling asleep at his post, he is spurred by a desire for conquest, and shows himself ever fertile in imagination, of infinite fancy, constantly advancing, with undiminished freedom and originality.

At the Universal Exhibition the works executed by M. Vever, in collaboration with M. Eugène Grasset, obtained the success that was their due. But the most important piece of work achieved by these two artists was not finished at that time. I refer to the sumptuous and heroic pendant of Hercules, which we are fortunate enough to be able to reproduce here from the original water-colour by M. Grasset. It is truly an admirable work, one in which all the imaginative and technical qualities possessed by the illustrator of the "Quatre Fils Aymon" are to be seen in profusion. What richness, what distinction in the details; what perfection of balance, both in design and in colouring! As for the execution by the firm of Vever, they deserve as much credit for it as if they had produced an original work. This is a jewel worthy to find a permanent place in one of the great European galleries, to rank side by side with the wonderful productions of the past.

M. Georges Fouquet is a most daring fantaisiste, and his creations impress one by qualities altogether different from those of the MM. Vever. He might perhaps be said to belong to the Lalique school, not that he imitates him, but by reason of his imaginative gifts. He is generally complicated, somewhat Byzantine, and thoroughly modern in any case. Some of his jewels would, I think, gain by being less rich; nevertheless, they are very interesting, and they deserve all the success they have won. The chief objection that can be urged against them is their lack of spontaneity. M. Georges Fouquet certainly holds a foremost place in the new movement. Already his production is considerable. Altogether an artist of rare gifts and splendid audacity.

I have always had a liking for the jewellery of M. Colonna—for some of it, at any rate, that which is most simple, most original, and most wearable. His works have this great charm in my eyes, that they are neither show-case jewels nor mere bijoux de parade, things intended solely for display. As a rule, they are quiet and practical. In most cases they have no "subject," being simply happy combinations of lines and curves and reliefs, the imprévu of which has a particular charm.

M. Marcel Bing, all of whose productions, like those of M. Colonna, are the monopoly of the "Art Nouveau Bing," has done some delightful things. One can see that he is still somewhat timid and hesitating, but his taste is sure, and he has an imagination which, if not specially abundant, is at least delicate and fine. He has a sense of colour too, and his pretty fancies are carried out with evident delight.

"La Maison Moderne," so actively directed by M. Meier-Graefe, has produced a large number of jewels. Ordinarily the designs are supplied by MM. Maurice Dufrène, Paul Follot, and Orazzi. Of course, they are not of uniform merit, but this in no way diminishes the interest attaching to their efforts. They are marred to some extent, it must be admitted, by certain extravagances, but even that is better than a relapse into the old formulæ, or the profitless reproduction of the bad models which were the rage some thirty years since. Moreover, "La Maison Moderne"—all praise to it!—has brought within the reach of the public quantities of jewellery which, without being masterpieces of conception or execution, are yet thoroughly good work based on excellent principles of novelty and freshness. They are what may be termed "popular" jewels.

The works designed by M. Théodore Lambert, and executed by M. Paul Templier, are of altogether different character. In these days, when excessive complications in jewel-work are so general and so much esteemed, these rings, necklaces and plaques, with their symmetrical linear designs in monochrome or reddish or greenish metal, relieved at times by pearls only, and with their formal ajourements, will doubtless seem to many people too simple or too commonplace. It will be justly urged against them that they are not sufficiently symbolic, that they take no account of the human form. No nymph disports herself amid the fall of the leaves in a lake of enamel bordered by water-lilies and iris blooms; no serpent nor devil-fish winds about in spasmodic contortions: yet these are charming works of art, beautifully and harmoniously designed, and with lines balanced to perfection. They are, in fact, jewels meant to be worn, bijoux de ville, which, while attracting no special notice, form nevertheless most exquisite objects of female adornment.

M. René Foy is a strange artist, rather restless, never altogether satisfied with himself, and haunted by a perpetual desire for something novel. Is he completely himself, that which he wishes or strives to be? This is the question those who have closely watched his career are asking themselves. For my part, I know some delightful things of his, extraordinarily delicate and graceful; but I also remember some of his work in which his exaggerations are such that one despairs of understanding his meaning. Unless I greatly mistake him, he wants the jewel to express more than it is possible for the jewel to express, and therefore is continually restless in his attempts to achieve the unachievable. He loses himself in a maze of "refinements" which, in my opinion, are outside the limits of the art he practises. He has created lovely things, things so novel as to be almost too novel, but I do not think he has said his final word yet. He is a young man who may have many surprises in store for us.

The jewels of M. Jules Desbois are works of pure sculpture. His vision, at once broad and delicate,