These are all the Dutch paintings of the first class, but in the basement a large number of others may be seen, by application, together with works of other schools which fail to attain to the required level upstairs.

From Holland we pass to Flanders. In Room XIV (there is no Room XIII) we find Rubens, of whose astonishing output the National Gallery owns thirty-five examples, some of which, however, are only studies but are none the worse for that. And here is also Van Dyck, who is represented by ten works. Both Rubens and Van Dyck were among the painters who figured in the Angerstein Collection, and the first picture that we find as we enter this room and turn to the right is the Angerstein Van Dyck portrait of Cornelius van der Geest, which is one of the finest portraits in the world. Rubens' hot and huddled "Rape of the Sabines" comes next, one of the Sabines being astonishingly like the old ladies who sit just in front of us at the theatre. Then another superb Van Dyck head that of an Italian sitter when he was working in Genoa, and opposite is the sitter's wife, the Marchesa Cattaneo, auburn-haired and mischievous. Rubens' voluptuous "Triumph of Silenus" is between" them. Then another Rubens, "The Brazen Serpent," and then the cool tones and easy treatment of Susanne Fourment (not Helen Fourment, as is so often stated) the painter's sister-in-law. The picture is also known as the "Chapeau de Paine." The other Rubens, of special note are the two landscapes, especially the large one, No. 66, with such a vast mileage of Belgium in it and the painter's own country home, the Chateau de Steen, in the left foreground. Observe how this splendid abundant genius handles partridges : to him, who saw everything big, they are as huge as capons. The other chief pictures are the brilliant "Holy Family," by Jordaens, which probably was never intended to be a Holy Family at all ; and the remaining Van Dyck portraits, in particular the full-length of the two Lenox youths, No. 3605, and the "Lady and Child," No. 3011.

Of early Flemish works the National Gallery has beautiful examples. Directly one enters the room where Rogier van der Weyden and Van Eyck are to be seen, one notes that the cheerful piety of Francesca and Fra Angelico, and the sheer love of innocent beauty of Botticelli and Filippino Lippi, are absent. A note of sadness instead, a northern earnestness, and also something of a realistic interest in humanity. The full materialism of later Netherlandish art is not yet ; there is still much left of the rapt religious spirit ; but these early Flemish painters have an eye on this world too. It is in their minds that living men and women deserve painting as much as the hierarchy of heaven. We find realism at its most extreme in No. 944, the "Two Usurers" of Marinus van Reymerswael, and in certain of the religious pictures too, notably Gerard David's "Christ being nailed to the Cross," Peter Brueghel's "Adoration of the Magi" and the triptych by the "Master from Delft." Joachim Patinir introduces us to domestic landscape in Nos. 1084 and 1082, both purporting to depict incidents in the life of the Virgin but more interesting for their backgrounds of fairy-tale scenery, busy with romantic Chaucerian happenings. Even more remarkable as innovation is No. 1298, from the same hand, one of the most exquisite pieces of colour in the whole collection a river scene frankly, and nothing else, painted four hundred years ago. This Patinir, whose work is not often to be seen, was a friend of Durer, who painted his portrait and no doubt encouraged him.

Room XV has almost too much that is good. One is bewildered by such a high standard of exquisite finish and the eye tires of the prevalence of red. But it is ungrateful to write like this, for early Flemish art is always interesting and one must avoid fatigue by taking the pictures slowly, one by one. The masterpiece of the room and possibly of the whole National Gallery at any rate there is nothing painted more marvellously is the portrait of "Jan Arnolfini and his Wife," by Jan van Eyck. This picture is both a triumph of miniature painting and of big painting. You derive two kinds of satisfaction from it: in the gross and in detail. The husband and wife soon become as real as people that we meet. Perfect though this picture is, it was painted before most of the artists on whose feats the popularity of the National Gallery largely depends were born. Jan van Eyck painted this picture in 1434 and died in 1441 ; Michelangelo, Titian, Raphael, Andrea del Sarto, Correggio, Perugino, Rembrandt, Velazquez, Rubens not one of these was yet living.

When minuteness of detail in painting is mentioned it is customary to cite the work of Gerard Dou and his school notably the two Mierises examples of whose amazing delicacy we saw in the Dutch rooms. But nothing done by Don is more remarkable than the details in this Van Eyck. If you take a magnifying glass a very instructive and amusing companion in every picture gallery you will see that around the mirror are ten scenes from the life of Christ. You will also see how the hairs of the fur are painted, and the lines on the lady's hand: legibly enough for a palmist to predict her fate. It has been remarked that the mirror, in gathering up reflections of the contents of the room, takes note only of the single orange on the window sill, and not of those on the lid of the chest. My guess is that Van Eyck added the oranges on the lid of the chest as an afterthought, the picture wanting warming at that point, and then, for once being the least little bit absent-minded, forgot to add them in the mirror.

This priceless picture came to England as one of the spoils of war. It had once belonged to Margaret of Austria and later to Mary of Hungary. After that it went to Spain, and a French General removed it from Madrid as loot in 1789. In course of time it found its way to Brussels, and in 1815 was again looted, this time by an English General, who sold it to the National Gallery in 1842. England is fortunate to have had the last word.

After the Arnolfini my favourite picture in this room is No. 664, which when I wrote this book was attributed to Rogier van der Weyden, but is now given to Dirk Bouts. Among so much that is red and hot, this picture has a gentle coolness. It seems to have been painted with sincerity : there is real grief on these faces.

Near the big Van Eyck are some other marvellous minute works by himself and by Petrus Cristus ; and then we come to another very interesting early master, Robert Campin (1375-1444). No. 2608 has a very unusual and attractive colour scheme. In No. 2609, even if you do not admire the type of Madonna, you cannot but rejoice in the little town seen through the window. The two portraits by the same painter are very fine, especially the woman in the white head-dress.

In Gerard David the Gallery is also rich, and there is another delicious town in No. 1079 by him, with the simple mild Kings presenting their gifts. Near it is a picture of Christ being nailed to the Cross ascribed to Gerard David, No. 3067, a most curious, repulsive, but very interesting work which is in treatment and in thought the completest antithesis to the "Adoration." The Adoration of the Magi was a favourite subject with the Flemish painters, and we find an intricate and masterly treatment of it by Mabuse in No. 2790, where so much of an artist's craft may be seen, and again in No. 3556 by Peter Brueghel, but this treatment seems to be satirical. It is the least religious religious painting I ever saw.

Close by is the beautiful soft Quinten Massys which has recently been given to the Gallery No. 3664: the "Virgin and Child with SS. Catherine and Barbara." It is odd to think that when this gentle and distinguished picture came into the auction room not long since, no art director wanted it! One of the most popular pictures in this room is Mabuse's pretty plump brocaded "Jacqueline de Bourgogne," No. 2211.

Room XVII has the chief works of the Spanish School: few but choice. Whether or not Velazquez painted the "Venus and Cupid" will probably never be known; but here it is, always with a little knot of people before it. This was the picture which suffered so badly during the suffragette disturbances, so that Venus's back had practically to be re-painted. Velazquez's son-in-law, Del Mazo, is supposed by some experts to be the artist; and one claims to have found his signature. Undoubted works both by Velazquez and Del Mazo hang near by, chief of the Velazquez' being the Philip IV, the portrait of the Admiral Pulido Pareja, and the "Christ at the Column." There is also the "Christ in the House of Martha and Mary," the still-life in which is painted with superb gravity.

Murillo is also in Room XVII, with a Holy Family and the little "S. John and the Lamb" a favourite with mothers ; and here is El Greco for those that can find pleasure in his work, of whom I rarely am one. The portrait of that ripe and commanding Spanish beauty, Dona Isabel Cobos de Porcel, by Goya, is almost too living. Another aspect of Goya's variety is to be found in its pendant, the portrait of Dr. Weal, so calm and cool. The sombre solidity of Zurbaran's genius is responsible for the full-length gipsy lady: No. 1930.

The little room XVIII leading out of this one has a few more Spanish works, chief among them the famous landscape with figures by Velazquez, No. 197: Philip IV hunting the wild boar under conditions that look almost too unsportsmanlike. Here also is Del Mazo with a portrait of Marianne of Austria. But the picture to which I turn first and last is the recent acquisition called "S. Paul," No. 3590, by an unknown artist. This is a very fascinating work, and not the less so for its suggestion of Whistler's famous portrait of his mother, now in Paris.

On the landing is a large Canaletto and two more of Paul Veronese's Allegories, in which the figures are posed in such a way as to give the artist the greatest difficulty and pleasure in mastering it.