When an artist finds his half drawn sketches, his blurred wanderings and unfinished efforts, exhibited in some haven of the fine arts, he can consider himself to have arrived. A strange paradox this--that a successful artist must be judged in part by work which is not even pot-boiling, but training exercises.

Such is the case with Aristide Maillol--a collection of whose works on paper and in plastic stuff is being shown at the Museum of Fine Arts. The exhibits are few in number, and a great part of them are probably bettered in quality by the work of much poorer artists. But even these are interesting, as a background to his better work, and this is really good.

In the usual little blurb that finds its way into every catalogue, Maillol is described as the Swinburne of stone. He is said to have recaptured the simple purity of the Greeks and to have infused into it a pagan breath of strength and wild disorder. Which serves very well as blurb, and which, strangely enough, is very true. There is none of of the unfinished effect of Rodin, none of the power created by blocks of chaotic stone, but a curious similarity, none the less, in treatment. The little terra cotta statuettes are worth much more than a passing glance.

"Law, Politics, and Religion" is the title of Dean Pound's lecture at the Phillips Brooks House at 4 o'clock tomorrow afternoon. Dean Pound's knowledge of the practical side of his law is at least good enough for the authorities of Boston to allow him to delve into the deepest archives of their criminal records, and any vagabond who has ever wandered into Langdell Hall to hear him on Jurisprudence will bear with him on religion tomorrow.