I studied the beautiful Bridge of Sighs for several days before I decided just when it would photograph to the best advantage; for I early selected it as my master subject in Venice. The frontispiece to this number is the final result. I photographed it on a golden afternoon in September, at about five o'clock, and I chose that hour because the light was then falling upon the sinister canal from the distance in front, lighting up the distant buildings in the extreme west, and again the immediate foreground where the two gondoliers appear. The Doges' Palace, on the left of the picture, is illuminated,

as it should be, while the prison on the right is in appropriate gloom. The Bridge itself is sufficiently lighted by reflection from sky and water, and by the general illumination, to bring out in adequate detail its beautiful ornamentation. The result, as a whole, has been pleasantly spoken of by those who have seen it, in this country and abroad, and I hope it will be pleasing to the readers of THE PHOTOGRAPHIC TIMES. The picture as it here appears was slightly enlarged in order to conform more nearly to the size of our pages.

My pictures of the Palace of the Doges was made the same afternoon at a slightly earlier hour, and I was particularly pleased to obtain it in so clearcut an image of the winged lion of San Marco, against the afternoon sky, as that is a characteristic and very beautiful landmark of Venice. The Bridge of Sighs connects the Doges' Palace with the Prison opposite as shown in that picture. A staircase descends from it to the Pozzi which is a series of gloomy dungeons, with a torture chamber and a place of execution. Criminal prisoners are still confined here. I have space but for one view of the ducal palace, showing only one of its beautiful facades; but every view of this exquisite example of ancient architecture is interesting and fascinating. It gives pleasure as a fine painting or a beautiful piece of sculpture does, and as no other building ever gave pleasure to me before.

The same may almost be said of the Byzantine Cathedral of San Marco; but here there is so much Oriental color, and ornamentation, that the eye is dazzled by such great magnificence. I cut off some of the basilica, and all of the sky, in order to show the piazza in the foreground with its multitudes of tame pigeons which always flock here to be petted and fed. The Piazza

of St. Mark is really the heart of Venice. It is a large square, paved with trachyte and marble, five or six hundred feet long, where all congregate who wish to enjoy the fresh summer air and hear the daily concerts of the fine military band. By moonlight it is a strikingly impressive place in which to linger. One must be a true lover, in Venice, if no where else!

But what shall I say of the Grand Canal by moonlight? I present but a single view of it by day, (ah, if the camera could only reproduce its color and charm by night!) as it sweeps majestically around one of its magnificent curves, more than two hundred feet in breadth. It is the main artery of Venice, about two miles in length, and intersects the city like a huge S. It is crossed by three bridges, the splendid marble one of the Rialto being perhaps the most beautiful and famcus. It crosses the canal by a single arch of seventy-four feet span.

The Grand Canal enters the spacious lagoons, and through them mingles with the blue waters of the Adriatic. One afternoon, our gondolier glided his graceful craft thence to the Lido. Here we walked upon the white shelving sands, bathed in the lovely waters of the sea; had tea in the Pavilion, while listening to the music there, and returned to the city just as the western sun was coloring the sky and water. Never have I seen such heavenly tints or such exquisite reflections. It was a City of Dreams, unreal in its beauty of form and color; and more lovely than any city I had ever beheld in my dreams.

A PHOTOGRAPHER OF JAPAN-ARNOLD GENTHE.

BY SIDNEY ALLAN.

HAT Japan is a land of poetry is evident to all who, seeking below the outward appearance of things Japanese as stray to this country, probe into the heart of them. The simple designs of flowers and birds that decorate our screens or porcelain ware, or illuminate with a few flashing touches the dainty folding fan, are oftentimes reminiscent of some vague poetical thought, of some pleasant emotion or happy inspiration.

But the real Japan, its temples and bridges, its cherry trees and ancient statuary, its mountains and picturesque population, is to most people but a sealed book, and the student of sights and scenes longs in vain for a magic key to unlock the treasures, the soft contours and subtler suggestiveness of her scenic beauty. The solitary instances of adequate artistic depiction-beyond examples of ordinary view photography, exquisite as they are at times-have only whetted our appetite for more, and the work of Dr. Arnold Genthe, of San Francisco, which we have now under view, is therefore especially welcome.