“Some there are who say that the fairest thing seen on the black earth is an array of horsemen; some, men marching; some would say ships; but I say she whom one loves best is the loveliest". She bats her eyes and smiles at the competition, secure in the knowledge that there is no thing, and doubtless no person, by whom her radiant beauty and unutterable loveliness will ever be surpassed. She is, we well know, the fairest thing of all--the immortal object of Sapphic adoration and rhyme, the fully-formed Venus emerging from the frothy, misty sea.