M. Plon has taken the opportunity afforded by the portrait to give us a short sketch of the life of Bianca Capello, her first marriage with Pietro Bonaventuri, the romantic adventures which followed upon it, and her subsequent relations with Francesco di Medici. He has added to his interesting memoir two portraits of Bianca: one by Angiolo Bronzino, preserved in the Uffizi Gallery; the other likewise by Angiolo Bronzino, exhibited in that of the Palazzo Pitti.

The second part of M. Plon’s supplement or appendix is devoted to an account of several works of art ascribed to Benvenuto Cellini. We first meet with a statue of the god Pluto, belonging to a London virtuoso, and which was exhibited at the Burlington Fine Arts Club in 1879. It is supposed to have been cast in the Petit-Nesle foundry, and to have been originally one of the twelve Dii Majores ordered by Francis I., and which were to have been worked in silver as decorations for his festivals. There is nothing to prove that we have here a production of Benvenuto Cellini, but it certainly belongs to the school of Michael Angelo, and if the artist is not Cellini he must be Giovanni di Bologna.

The next thing to notice is a large basin of silver-gilt workmanship, belonging to Lord Cowper, and the ewer corresponding to which is described and reproduced in M. Plon’s first volume; it represents a series of scenes from the Old Testament. “The richness and elegance of the compositions,” says our author, “betray the hand of a first-rate artist.” Let us add that both the statue of Pluto previously mentioned and the present basin have found a place amongst the illustrations of the work we are now reviewing.

Two other articles of vertu (two cups, or rather their mountings) are also ascribed as probably Cellini’s work, on the authority of M. Alfred Darcel (letter to M. Edmond Bonnaffé, in the Chronique des Arts et de la Curiosité, April 14, 1883). We have further to mention two gold jewels intended to be worn on a man’s cap (nella berretta), and which were engraved by Cellini’s rival, Caradosso. This naturally leads M. Plon to insert a letter addressed by our artist to Isabella d’Este, Duchess of Mantua, a letter in which he adds further details to those he had already given (see Benvenuto Cellini) on Caradosso.

The last description we have to allude to here is that of a salt-cellar, which appears to have been made for Frederigo II., Duke of Mantua, and which was a work of high art. M. Plon gives us the correspondence relating to it, correspondence preserved in the archives of the Gonzaga family, and which has been copied there by M. Armand Baschet, who has so often and in so remarkable a manner contributed to our knowledge of the social, political, and intellectual history of Italy during the sixteenth century.

In conclusion, this elegant brochure is an important and necessary appendix to the volume we reviewed last year; it may be regarded as not only a supplement to M. Plon’s catalogue raisonné of Benvenuto Cellini’s work, but a memoir of Bianca Capella, and a graphic though far from edifying sketch of Italian life at the time of the Reformation.

English Etchings, Parts xli. and xlii. (D. Bogue, 27, King William-street, W.C.), which are now before us, are fully up to the standard of the parts previously published. Among the plates calling for special mention in these pages is an interesting addition to the series of etchings of Old London, “Covent Garden Market,” by Mr. A. W. Williams. Orleton Church, Herefordshire, a spirited etching by Mr. Oliver Baker, shows the fine Jacobean pulpit of oak, covered with elaborate carving, and part of the chancel arch with the head of a bishop in mitre and amice as a drip-stone termination.

Obituary Memoirs.

“Emori nolo; sed me esse mortuum nihil æstimo.”—Epicharmus.

The Rev. Hugh Pigot, Rector of Stretham, author of “Suffolk Superstitions” and “The History of Hadleigh,” died in October.