CENTURY OF PAINTERS OF THE ENGLISH SCHOOL. A CENTURY OF PAINTERS OF THE ENGLISH SCHOOL BY RICHARD REDGRAVE, C.B, RA. (sometime surveyor of hkr majesty's pictures and art director of the south kensington museum), AND SAMUEL REDGRAVE. SECOND EDITION, ABRIDGED AND CONTINUED TO THE PRESENT TIME. " THERE ARE NOT SO MANY WRONG OPINIONS IN THE WORLD AS IS GENERALLY IMAGINED ; FOR MOST PEOPLE HAVE NO OPINION AT ALL, BUT TAKE UP WITH THOSE OF OTHERS, OR WITH MERE HEARSAY AND ECHOES." — Locke. LONDON SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE & RIVINGTON, LIMITED ST. dunstan's house, fetter lane, fleet street, E.C, 1890. \_AU 7-ighis reserved.\ Richard Clay and Sons, Limited, london and bungay. THE GETTY CENTER. LIBRARY PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. In publishing a Second Edition of this work it has been judged advisable to abridge it considerably and to issue it in a single volume for the convenience of Art Students who may use it as a book of reference. The parts omitted have been mostly those dealing with the foundation of the Academy, and the descriptions of pictures, which latter were considered a little too technical for the general reader. It is difficult to shorten a book without reducing the interest, and to continue it without breaking the thread of the narrative, but it was absolutely necessary both to abridge the original matter and to add many new pages in order to bring the subject up to date and to make it useful to the reader of the present day. A quarter of a century, rich in art progress, has elapsed since the First Edition ; painters have now almost too many biographers, therefore, in adding details of the lives of those who have passed away during the last twenty-five years, a shorter account of many eminent men has sufficed, as compared with the notices of less distinguished men in the earlier part of the work. The endeavour has been made however by describing the methods of painting to keep up a connected account of the de- velopment of the British school, though this has necessarily been vi PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. circumscribed by the plan of the original book, which has been rigidly adhered to, namely, not to mention the works of living painters. A list of the numerous authorities which have been consulted would have been superfluous, as their aid is always acknowledged in the course of the work. Fehfuary, 1890. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. The opinion is at last gaining ground that art is no longer an alien on English soil ; and the time appears to have arrived when some interest will be felt in a narrative of its progress among us. An artist may now without fear of presumption speak of The English School," a school rich in fine works, whose painters are remarkable for the national character, as well as for the individual originality, of their genius. Great progress was unquestionably made in the last generation towards a better appreciation of art. Now, all make it at least a subject of conversation, many of real interest. A desire to see works of art, if not a taste for them, has been developed by the public collections in the British Museum, the National Gallery, and more recently, in the South Kensington Museum, added to the growing attractions of the exhibitions at the Royal Academy, the Water-Colour Societies, the Suffolk Street Gallery, and other institutions. Meanwhile we have no connected narrative in which the growth and development of our school, and the peculiarities of the artists who have been its pride and its ornament, have been critically traced. While impressed with the difficulty of obtaining reliable information concerning many of our painters and their works, it has been our aim to supply this want by such means as were within our reach. Some artists enjoy a reputation quite unsupported by the works they have left behind them, others, scarcely known in their own day, have bequeathed to us works of great merit, which should have given a reputation, but have hardly secured to them a record or a name. All the Continental schools and their artists have had their historians ; everything connected with them has been narrated, lauded, and criticized, while of the progress of art in England, and its truly national character, the story has been left untold. When entrusted with the selection and arrangement of the works of the English school in the International viii PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. Exhibition of 1862, this neglect was made woefully apparent to us; of our artists, of their most renowned works, and their present possessors there was but scant record. We had long felt a deep interest in the works of our early painters. It then became our duty, in search of them, to visit the chief collections in the country, and availing ourselves of the opportunity, we added largely to the notes and information we had before possessed : and with the view of confirming our first impressions, we have since the commencement of this work, again seen many of the paintings which in the course of it we have critically noticed. It has been the subject of remark that artists have rarely been writers upon their art ; that the judgment and criticism eschewed by them, have been left to others devoid of technical knowledge ; while the painter has been told that the pencil, not the pen, belongs to him, and that he will find the best employment for his time and thought at his easel. Of the truth of this, while devoting ourselves to this work we have been made fully sensible ; yet in the attempt to speak justly of the painter's art, to give a due place to forgotten genius, and a knowledge of our profession founded on right principles, the labour has not been unattended by some feeUngs of compensation. Our object has been to write a connected history of the art of painting, and of the institutions founded for its promotion, in the last and present century, during which time English art had its true birth, and has progressed to a healthy vigour. We have not attempted to write biographies of our artists, but to give such facts relating to those who were most distinguished as intimately connect them with their works, speaking, however, exceptionally more at large of others of whom little is known, yet in all cases confining ourselves to those who have finished their labours and have passed from us. Our aim throughout has been to cultivate a catholic love for art, without prepossession or prejudice ; to see the merits of a great work before its defects, and never without a fair recognition of the difficulties the artist has had to overcome. By this spirit we have, we trust, always been guided. In the selection of a painter's works for special criticism, while we have chosen those which are esteemed the most important, we have had a view also to those which are most accessible to the public, so as to afford an opportunity for examining the grounds of the opinions we have expressed. Kensington, September, 1865. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. I Absence of any Record of the Early English Artists— Wal pole's Work on Art — Opinions of English Art by French Artists — A British Gallery a National Want — Hogarth's deprecatory Opinions of his Countrymen — State of Art Instruction — Value of Art to Manufacture — Sentiments expressed by Mr. Pitt — ^^Little Knowledge of the Works of our Early Painters — Destruction and Diamage by Repairers and Cleaners — Alteration and Re-christening of Portraits — Fictitious Ancestors — Manufacture of Drawings by the Old Masters — Hogarth's " Black Masters Spurious Copies — Loss of Paintings by Fire, from Fanaticism and Neglect — Multiplication by Duplicate Copies and Replicas CHAPTER I. Our Native Artists. The Painters who first practised Art in England, not exclusively Foreigners — In- fluence of Holbein — Excellence of the English Miniature Painters — En- couragement of Art by Charles I. — Rubens and Vandyck — The Native Artists who followed them — Dechne and Debasement of Art under Lely and Kneller — Verrio's Decorations — The Historical Portrait Style — Native Por- trait Painters in George I.'s and George II.'s Reign 9 CHAPTER II. William Hogarth. The great Founder of the English School — His personal Appearance and Charac- ter—The true Originality of his Art— The "Marriage a la Mode"— Its clever Accessories and Storied Backgrounds — The First and Last Scenes analyzed — His great Merits as an Artist — Invention — Colour and Character- istic Drawing — Description of an Interesting Work in Hogarth's manner hitherto oveidooked ^7 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER III. The Royal Academy, Systems of Art Study— Their Absence in England— And consequent Bad Art— ''^^'^ Early Attempts to found Schools — Exhibitions at the Foundling Hospital and the Society of Arts— Their Success — Schism among the Artists — Out of which rose the Royal Academy— Its Constitution and Objects 26 CHAPTER IV. Richard Wilson, R.A., and his Contemporaries. Eminent Artists who became Members of the New Academy — General Slate of Art at the Time — Both Portrait and Landscape— Za;«<5^r/— The Smiths of Chichester— Monamy — Scott — Brooking— Paton— Serves — Richard Wilson, R.A., Portrait Painter, commences his Landscape Career — His Talent un- recognized and unrewarded — True Aim and Principles of his Art — Opinion upon his Choice of Subjects — And upon his great Original Genius — His Materials and Mode of Painting — His Followers, George Barret, R.A., /ulius C. Ibbetson CHAPTER V. Sir Joshua Reynolds, P.R.A. His Early Education— Bent upon the Pursuit of Art— Greatly Gifted for this by Nature— Becomes the Pupil of Hudson— Fortunately soon quits his Teach- ing—After some practice in Devonshire he visits Italy — His First Impres- sions of Italian Art — The Source of his Future Inspiration — Correggio and Titian— Attempts to Imitate the Colour of the Venetians — But Nature his True School— Untrammelled by Tradition — His Strivings after Excellence — Practices in London — Is soon distinguished — But not Patronized by the Court — Walpole compares him disparagingly with Ramsay, the Court Painter— Sketch for the Royal Marriage — Reynolds's Historical Paintings, Macbeth, Cardinal Beaufort, Ugolino— The Nativity— Opinion upon these Works — His Manner of Painting— Effect upon our School — His Fugitive Colours — Causes of the Failure of his Pictures — Recollections of his Modes of Painting— Their Defects— Use of Bitumen and of Wax Mediums— Rey- nolds's Literary Abilities— Friendship with Dr. Johnson — Writings and Discourses at the Royal Academy — His earnest Love of Art — Manner of Life— Literary Associates— Amiable Temper— Chosen the first President of the Royal Academy— Successful Life— Attacked by Paralysis— Death . . . CHAPTER VL Thomas Gainsborough, R.A. Born at Ipswich— Comes to London to Study Art— Placed under Gravelot and Hayman, and enters the St. Martin's Lane Academy— Mode of Study there —Returns to his Country Home— Had not the Advantage of Foreign CONTENTS. xi PAGE Study — Its True Value — Copying — Forms his own Style— Its Ease and Facility— Decision and Power— His Works remain Undecayed— His Por- traits equal to his Landscapes— Their Simplicity and Truth- His Manner and the Principles on which he Worked — Description of his Landscapes and Rustic Art 5^ CHAPTER VIL Influence of Foreigners on English Art. Foreigners who practised their Art in England in the Middle of the Eighteenth Century— The History Painters — Cipriani— Angelica Kaufman— Zo^any Their Art described and its Influence on our School— The Landscape Painters— Zz^fmr^///— His Insipid Stage-like Nature— Yet Fashion and Success De Loutherbou7-g—U.\s Mannered though Powerful Landscapes — His Eidophusicon— Exhibitions and their Teaching CHAPTER VIIL First History Painters of the English School. Benjamin West, P.R. A. ; James Barry, R.A.; zx^^ John Singleton Copley, —Their Art Education and Early Life Compared— West and his Religious Subjects— Their High Contemporary Reputation and Subsequent Neglect— Their Merits and Defects— Barry, his Classic Bias— Study of the Antique and Italian Art— Opinion upon his Merits and Works— His Great Work at the Society of Arts— His Unfortunate Death— Copley— His Theme the Heroism ofhis Own Time— Criticism upon his "Death of Lord Chatham" —Major Pierson's Victory and Death— Relief of Gibraltar— His Fortunate Choice of Subjects— Manner of Painting 7 CHAPTER IX. George Romney and Joseph Wright (of Derby). The School which Succeeded Reynolds— G"^!^??-^^ Romney— ^ASs. Introduction to Art— Abandons his Family, and comes to London— His Success as a Painter, and Journey to Rome — Returns and Settles in London — Finds full Employment— His Longings after High Art— And Attempts at History- Want of Perseverance — Due Partly to Defective Education — Takes his Stand outside the Royal Academy— Observations on this— His own Reasons for his Isolation— He is Successful and Wealthy, but Discontented— Return to his Family and Death— Estimate of his Character and Art— Joseph Wright— Vm\>\\ of Hudson— Patronized in his Native County— Marries and visits Italy— Paints Effects of Moonlight and of Fire— Tries Portraiture at Bath— His Election into the Royal Academy— And Refusal of the Dis- tinction — His Works xii CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. Progress of Historic Art. Attempts at the Royal Academy to promote Sacred Art — Offer to Decorate Saint Paul's Cathedral— Rejection of the Plan— Not to be Lamented— Boydell's Shakspeare Gallery— Its Origin Described — Want of Success Henry Fuseli, R.A. —Hh Early Life— Attachment to Art— Want of Elementary Training— Contributions to the Shakspeare Gallery— Election of Fuseli into the Academy— He Projects the Milton Gallery— Its sad Failure ; and the Probable Causes— His Genius and Art CHAPTER XL . . The Successors of Reynolds. Nathaniel Dance, i?.^.— Travels in Italy— His Portraits— Opinion upon his Art — Quits the Profession — jfames Northcote, R.A. — Apprenticed to his Father, a Watchmaker — Early Love of Art— Commences Portraiture Introduced to Reynolds — Becomes his Favourite Pupil — Visits Italy On his Return has Recourse to Portraits— Then Tries Domestic Subjects— Boydell's Gallery affords him Subjects in High Art — "Murder of the Princes in the Tower"— Elected Royal Academician— His "Wat Tyler" compared with Opie's " Rizzio"— His Pictures for the Shakspeare Gallery —Defective Manner of Painting— Absurd Inconsistencies in Costume- Common to the Art of the Time— His Industrious and Idle Servant Girl —His Animal Painting and Fables— Writings on Art— Personal Character— Jatnes Opie, R.A.—YWs. Early Life — Connection with Dr. Wolcot— Who Introduces him in London — Impression made by him — His First Success- Follow ed by Neglect— Unhappy Marriage and Divorce— He regains Sitters —And Paints Subject-Pictures— His "David Rizzio "—Elected into the Academy— Criticism on his " Rizzio "—His True Genius and Powerful Intellect— Opinion upon his Works for the Boydell Gallery— His Second Marriage— Perseverance and Love of his Art— His Writings— 6'2> William Beechey, R.A. — His Early Life— Becomes Enamoured of Art— Commences Portraiture— Gains Favour at Court, and Royal Patronage— His Equestrian Portrait of George IIL— His Pupil "Bees-wing Sharpe "— His Pictures at the Guildhall CHAPTER XIL The Animal Painters of the Eighteenth Century. Animal Portraiture— Its Encouragement in England— Wootton attains Distmction in this Kx\.~James Seymour, Horse Painter— Some Account of Wxm.— George Stubbs, ^. /e.^.— Abandoned the mere Portrait Treatment, and Advanced the Art of Animal Painting — Sawrey Gilpin, R.A. — Excelled in his Yiox%^%— George Morland—lih Precocity— Early Training and Teach- CONTENTS. xiii PAGE ing — Idle and Vicious Habits — Preyed upon by Schemers and Low Dealers — His First Pictures — Marriage — His Low Associates — Paints from Hand to Mouth — Yet Lives in Reckless Extravagance — Improves in his Art not- withstanding — Character of his Art — His Hopeless Difficulties — Led at Last to Degeneracy in his Pictures — ^Thrown into Prison by his Creditors — Death — Opinion upon his Art and the Causes of its Popularity 122 CHAPTER XIIL Painters in Water-Colours, Origin of the Art — Manner of Painting of the Early Miniaturists — Progress made by the Early Tinters and Topographic Draughtsmen — Effect of the Materials used on the Improvement of the Art — Mode of Tinting as First Practised — John Cozens adds Poetry and Colour to the New Art — His great Merits — Paul Sandby's Art — William Payne — His Advance and Influence — Warwick Smith — Thomas Girtin wholly changes the Method — Is assisted by Dr. Monro — His great Progress — Method of Working described — And his Pigments — ^His Social Habits — And early Death — Impress left on the Art — J. M. W. Turner, R.A., as Water-Colour Painter — He first freely uses local Colour — His Manner analyzed — His powerful Influence on Water- Colour Art 132 CHAPTER XIV. The School of Miniature Painters. Our First Miniaturists — Great Excellence of their Art — Its High Estimation — Painting on Ivory and in Enamel — Pditot — Flatman — Alexander Browne — Lewis Crosse — Boit — Bernard Lens — Zincke — Deacon — Jarvis Spencer — Michael Moser, R. A., and his Clever Daughter — Nathaniel LJone, R.A. — T. Meyer, R. A.— Collins of Bath— Shelley— Nixon— Sherriff—Ozias Hum- phrey, R.A. — Richard Cosway, R.A. — His Abilities and Rapid Progress — Style of Art — Vanity and Absurd Pretensions — His Wife a Clever Artist — ; Their Luxurious Style of Living — She Abandons him — His Mad Eccentrici- ties and Death — Henry Bone, R.A. — Commences Life as a China Painter — Tries Enamel — His Success and Patronage — Henry Edridge, A. R.A. — Description of his Art — Both in Portrait and Landscape — Andrew Robertson — His Long-Sustained Eminence — Alfred Chalon, R.A. — His Family — Studies Art — His Bold Manner and Varied Powers — Sir W. Ross, R.A. — His Art and Distinguished Patronage — Loss of Miniature Art — Robert Thorburn, A. R.A CHAPTER XV. Book Illustrators and Designers. The First Illustrators and their Successors— Bell's Illustrated Edition of the Poets — William Blake — Begins Life as an Engraver — Then tries Design — His Fervid Imagination — His Inventions and Yotix^— Songs of Innocence xiv CONTENTS. — Other Poems — His Process of Painting — Jenisalem — Blair's Grave Illustrations to the Book of Job — Character; and Death — Thomas Stothard, R.A. — Designs for Bell's Poets — and the Novelists' Magazine — Opinions upon his Art — His great Talent and Industry — Mortitner Kirk, A. R.A. — The Westalls—Robert Sinirke, R.A. — Ihotnas Uzvins, R.A.~ Designer and Painter — Thomas Betvick — His Designs and Woodcuts — The Annuals — The Etching Club — John Leech — Richard Doyle — " Phiz," Hablot K. Browne — Randolph Caldecott 162 CHAPTER XVI. The British Institution and the Water-Colour Societies. The British Institution planned to Promote Historic Art— Artists excluded from Management— Awards of the Directors— Jczw^j- Ward, i?.^.— Exhibitions of the Old Masters — Value to Artists— Success of their Exhibitions of the Works of the Early Painters of the English School— These Exhibitions now continued by Royal Academy and Grosvenor Gallery No Means of exhibiting Water-Colour Drawings — Disadvantages under which they were seen at the Royal Academy— The Water-Colour Society established— Its Founders and their Objects— JVilliam S. Gilpin, the first President — Success of the Society — John Claude iVa/to— Attempt to found a second Society — The original Society declines — Which leads to a Secession of Members— It is reconstituted — The Members revert to their original Constitution— Secure a Gallery — Established Success — Opinion upon the Aims of the Society — And on its Influence upon Water-Colour Art — The New Society of Painters in Water-Colours— Its permanent Establishment — Named the Royal Insti- tute of Painters in Water-Colours— Its liberal Constitution — The Sketching Society CHAPTER XVII. The Founders of the Water-Colour Society. George Barret— Trials of his early Life — His Beginnings in Art — Poetic Treat- ment of Landscape — Death — ^ohn Farley — His early Life — Character of his first Drawings — His numerous Contributions to the Exhibitions — His Enthusiasm — And Anecdotes of him — Astrological Predictions — William Henry Pyne — His Art Publications— And Literary Works — Robert Hills— Animal Painter — Opinions upon his Art — His numerous Etchings — Joshua Cristall— His Birth — And Love of Art — Difficulties under which he first Painted — Description of his Works— And Estimate of his Merits— John Glover— His early Art— Gains a great Reputation— Emigrates to Australia — William Havell— Receives a good Education — Secret Devotion to Art His early Works — Visits China and India — Returns to London — Finds himself left behind in Art— His real Merits — Francis Nicholson— Little known of his early Career — Begins Art in London — His Process of Paintin"- • — Devotes himself to Lithography ° CONTENTS. XV CHAPTER XVIII. Sir Thomas Lawrence, P.R.A. PAGE Birth and Parentage — Early Teaching and winning Talents, but neglected Education — Commences Portraiture at Bath — Comes to London — Studies at the Royal Academy — Introduction to Reynolds — Elected Associate of the Academy — His early Distinction and Patronage — Manner and Quality of his Painting, and its Merits — Tries Historical Subjects — His "Satan" — Continues to Improve in Portrait Art — And increases his Practice — Steadily advances his Position — Some Interruption to his Progress by Scandal con- nected with the Princess of Wales — Gains the Favour and Patronage of the Prince — Commissioned to Paint the Allied Sovereigns — Knighted — Goes to Aix-la-Chapelle to execute his Commission — Vienna and Rome — On his Return elected President of the Royal Academy — Criticism on the Works painted for the Prince — ^His Studio in London again filled with Sitters — His Academy Duties — Collection of Drawings — His best Portraits of this date — Short Illness and Death — Personal Recollections — His Treatment of the Costume of his Time 196 CHAPTER XIX. The Contemporaries of Lawrence. Sir Henry Raeburn, R.A. — Native of Scotland — Apprenticed to a Goldsmith — Turns to Art — Successful in Miniature — Afterwards in Oil Life-size — After travelling in Italy, settles in Edinburgh — And gains Distinction — Opinion upon his Art — John Hoppner, R.A. — Gossip connected with his Birth — Chorister in the Chapel Royal — Studies Art — Gains the Academy Gold Medal — Marries— Adopts Portrait Art — His Progress — Enjoys the Court Favour — Called the Whig Portrait-painter — Rivalry with Lawrence — Ill- health — His Temper tried by Sitters — His Subject-pictures and Portraits criticized — William Owen, R.A. — Early Love of Art — Student of the Academy — Pupil of Catton, R.A. — Commences Portrait Art — Establishes his Reputation — Elected into the Academy — Portrait Painter to the Prince Regent — His Portraits and Subjects from Rustic Life — Long Ill-health — And Death — Sir Martin Archer Shee, P.R.A. — Parentage — Studies in the Dublin Art-schools — Tries his Fortune in London — Paints Portraits — Chiefly Theatrical— Attempts History — Rhymes on Art and other Writings — Elected President of the Academy — Witness before the House of Commons' Committee — Zealous Defence of the Academy — Opinion upon his Art — " The Tiptoe School " — Death — Thomas Phillips, R.A. — Apprenticed to a Glass-painter — Adopts Portrait- painting — His Subject-Pictures — Character of his Art — John Jackson, R.A. — Son of a Village Tailor — Becomes an Artist — Finds Friends — Comes to London — His Success in small Water-CoIour Portraits — Followed by Portraits in Oil — Elected into the Academy — Visits Italy — His Art Merits — Character and Death — George H. Harlow — Left with a widowed Mother — A Spoilt Boy — True Genius for Art — Commences its Study — Pupil of Lawrence — Tries Portraiture — Paints Theatrical Portraits — Falls into Ex- xvi CONTENTS. travagance and Difficulties— Visits Italy — Returns bent on History Illness and early Death— His Art criticized — "The Trial of Queen Katharine"— Sir Watson Gordon, R.A. — Of a Berwickshire Family — Intended for the Army— Turns to Art— Settles to Portraiture — Paints the Scottish Celebri- ties — Becomes President of the Scotch Academy — Opinion upon his "Works — Henry Peyronnet Briggs, R.A. — Enters the Schools of the Academy Begins Life as a Subject-Painter — Elected into the Academy — Turns to Portraiture to provide for his Family CHAPTER XX. Joseph Mallord William Turner, R.A. The Associations of his Birthplace— Early Works— Architectural Ruins and Topographical Landscape — Finds new Scenes at Bristol and on the Wye- Truthful Power of his Drawing— His Study from Nature and at the Royal Academy— His Impulsive Manner of Painting— Causes of the Decay in some of his Works— His characteristic Teaching described— His Lectures— Leav- ing his first Manner, attempts Nature's grandest Effects- The early Appre- ciation of his Art— His mystic Poems— His Practice in Oil and his imitative Powers — Mistaken Charges of unfair Rivalry with other Painters— Effect of his Water-Colour Art upon his Practice in Oil— His early and later Manners described— And his best Works examined— Reminiscences of him— The " Varnishing Days "—Summary of his Art— Had no pre- Raphaelite Tendencies— His great Industry— Gift to the Nation— Death — Increased Value of his Works CHAPTER XXL Howard, Hilton, Haydon, and Etty. Henry Howard, R.A.:—Yi\% early Training— Travels in Italy— Paints Poetic and Classic Subjects — Occasionally Portraits— Character of his Art — William Hilton, R.A. ;— Studies at the Royal Academy— Historic Art his sole Aim— His first Works— Premiums gained at the British Institution- Appointed Keeper of the Royal Academy— Decayed State of his Works— His " Christ Crowned with Thorns" — Opinion of his Merits — Benjamin Robert Haydon .•— Determines to be a Painter— Comes to London to Study- Admitted into the Schools of the Royal Academy— His Enthusiasm for Art— Paints his " Dentatus "—Inflated Opinion of his own Work— In Debt— Obstinately pursues his own Way— His "Solomon" and "Christ's Entry into Jerusalem "—Again in Difficulties— Claims Public Assistance —Still deeply Embarrassed— Commences the "Raising of Lazaru§"-= Opinion upon this Work— Thrown into the King's Bench— The " Mock Election "— Paints Portraits and anything— " The Reform Banquet" —Lectures in London and in the Provinces— Napoleon Portraits— The Fresco Commissions— His Claims to Employment— Utter Disap- pointment and sad Death— Criticism on his Kxi— William Etty R A • CONTENTS. xvii —Serves his Time to a Printer— Cherishes a love of Art— Comes to London — Enters the Schools of the Royal Academy— Mis Perseverance and Manner of Painting— The Beauty of Woman his Theme— His Choice of Subjects— His smaller Works— Recollections of his Character and Art CHAPTER XXH, TAliLEAUX DK GENRE.— WiLKIE, MULREADY, AND LeSME. kise of this Art in England— Its Domestic Character and true Aims— Illustrated in the Works of three eminent Kxlisis— David Wilkie, /^.v^f.— His early Life— Student at the Trustees' Academy, Edinburgh— Paints his " Pitlassie 1^'^'^^° ^"^^^ Portraits— Starts for London— Admitted to the Royal Academy Schools— His patient Studies— Mulready, R A His hrst Art-attempts and early Teaching— Studies at the Academy— Makes rapid Progress— Marries— His first Pictures— C/^a;-/^x Robert Leslie R A — His Birth and Boyhood— Intended for a Bookseller— Will be a Painter— fortune favours his Desire— Comes to England— Devotes himself to Study —Critical Comparison of the Genius of these three Painters— Their dis- tinguishing Characteristics— Early Attempts in Historic Art— Their different Modes of Painting described— And varied Choice of Subject— Remarks on J .eslie s Sancho and the Duchess "— Mulready's simple domestic Incidents —Development of his Style— Wilkie's little Sense of Beauty— Want of Elegance, Character, and Humour common to the three— But in different degrees— Their relative Merits as Colourists— Their Modes of Paintine— And Influence of Continental Art upon them . . C H A P T E R X X 11 1. David Wilkik, R.A. Commences his Career in Art—" The Village Politicians "—"King Alfred "— a't i^^ Rent-day "—Early elected an Associate of the Royal Academy— His Mediums used in Painting— He attempts an Exhibition of his own Works —Its Failure— Home Associations— Bachelor Life—" Blind Man's Buff"— riie Academy Hanging Committees— His "Duncan Gray"— Its Repair and History— He Visits France— The "Distraining for Rent "—Condition of this Picture—" Penny Wedding "— " Reading the Will "—And " Read- ing the Gazette of the Battle of Waterloo "—Its Conception and Popularity —Commences "George IV. 's Entry into Holyrood "—Domestic Troubles —Illness— Travels in Italy, Germany, and Spain— Influence of the Spanish School— Changes his Style of Art— And Manner of Painting— His Spanish 1 ictures described— And his new Art criticized— Defects of his Drawing— He IS passed over in the Election of President of the Academy— Paints \\orks of a larger Scale— Opinion upon them— His Voyage to the East— And Its Impressions— His Death there— Personal Character : and Recollec- tions of him „ 281 CHAPTER XXIV. William Mulready, R.A., and Thomas Webster, R.A. William Mulready, R.A.—Y.zx\y Inclination to Landscape Art—" Old Kasi^ar " his first Subject-Picture— Studies the Dutch School— Assists in Panorama XVlll CONTENTS. and Scene Painting— His Landscapes and Art-progress— Idle Boys — Elected Associate of the Academy— Commences his " Fight Interrupted —And gains his Election as Royal Academician— Forms his own Manner — " The Convale^icent from Waterloo "—Its Mode of Painting— Transition and Change of Manner—" The Young Painter "—"Interior of an English Cottac^e"— Combines his highest Qualities in Art— His "Out door Scenes —"The Seven Ages" described— Attains the Perfection of his second Manner-Culmination of his Art— " The Whistonian Controversy "- "Choosing the Wedding Gown"— "Tram up a Child • —Decline of his Painting— His Vehicles and Modes of Execution— His Powers as a Draughtsman— Finished Studies from the Living Model— Their Excellence and Beauty— His last Days and sudden TieSiXh— Thomas Webster, R.A. —Early Life— Student at Royal Academy— Begins by Painting Portraits —Adoption of his own peculiar Style— The " Village Choir "—The "Boys on the Slide "—Method of Painting— Goes to Live in the Country— Genial Disposition— Death ^92 CHAPTER XXV. Leslie, Newton, and Egg. Charles Robert Leslie, ie.<4. -Finishes his Pupil Life-First attempts High Art —Visits Paris and Brussels and Antwerp— True Bent of his Genius— Paints " Slender and Anne Page"—" Sir Roger de Coverley going to Church — Establishes his Reputation— " The Gipsies "—" May Day in the Time of Oueen Elizabeth"—" Sancho Panza and the Duchess —Great Success of this Picture— His Marriage— Elected Associate of the Academy— Paints "Don Quixote in the Sierra Morena"— Home Life and Friendships— Joins the Sketching Society-The "Dinner at Page's House "-Comparison of the original and the replica Pictures— Accepts the Office of Teacher in the Military School of the United States— Resigns and returns to London— Influence of Constable, R.A.-Paints "The Queens Coronation -And "The Christening of the Princess Royal"— His failing Health and Death —His gentle Character— Genius— Art full of Grace and Beauty— His Females inimitable-His Treatment of Costume- G?7^^r/ Stuart Nnvton ji A —United in Art and Friendship with Leslie— His Birth and early Training-Comes to Europe-Visits Italy, France, and the Netherlands- Settles in London-An irregular Student-His first Pictures- The For- saken "—"Lovers' Quarrels "— " The Importunate Author —His Portraits —Elected Associate of the Academy— His Spanish Pictures— The Portia and Bassanio "— Its true Excellence— Becomes Insane and Dies— His Art -And Character-^«^^^«^ Leopold Egg, ^.^.-Birth and early Progress —Exhibits in Suffolk Street— Elected into the Academy— Illness and early Death— Characteristics of his Art 304 CHAPTER XXVI. Old Crome and the Norwich School. fohn Crome-lWs Birthplace and Origin-Picturesque Surroundings- Tries •^ House-painting and Sign painting-Sketches the local Scenery-His Poverty and the attendant Difficulties-Finds a Patron-And has Access to CONTENTS. xix Dutch and Flemish Art — Helped by Sir William Beechey — Teaches Drawing — Founds the Norwich Society and the Norwich Exhibition — His Mode of Painting — And Choice of Subject — Follower of the Dutch School — Influence of Wilson's Art— His " Monsehold Heath," " Hautbois Common," "Coast Scene near Yarmouth" — Etchings — Death— The Norwich School — James Stark — Articled to Crome — Comes to London — Studies at the Academy — Gains a Premium at the British Institution — Returns to Norwich — Publishes The Scenery of the Rivers of Norfolk —Q,om&% again to London — Then resides at Windsor — Character of his Art — George Vincent also a Pupil of Crome — His Art — And fine Painting of "Greenwich Hospital " — Falls into Difficulties and Neglect — John Sell Cotman — His Early Career — Teaches Drawing — His Publications — Opinion upon his Art — The Norwich Society. 317 CHAPTER XXVH. Rfxent Portrait Painters— Pickersgill, Boxall, Knight, Macxee, Hoi.l. H. W. Pifkersgill, jV..^.- His Portraits good Likenesses— 5zV«^ Boxall, R.A.~ Over-scrupulous Painter— Director of National Gallery — Death — Sir Francis Grant, P.R.A. — Fame will depend on his Hunting Scenes— Could Paint a Lady— Elected President after Eastlake's Death— J. P. Knight, R.A.— Manly Portraits— Secretary of the Royal Academy— 5?> Daniel Macnee, R.S.A. — Exhibited many Portraits at Royal Academy in London— Holl, J?. ^.— Early Love for Art — Sensitive Disposition — Carries off all Academy Honours as a Student— Portrait of S. Cousins, R. A.— Subject- Pictures— Method of Work— Premature Death— y. C. Moore— ^aXev- Colour Portraits — Future of the School ^2' CHAPTER XXVIH. The Landscape Painters— Constable, Callcott, and Collins. John Cotistable, R.A. — His Birth and Parentage— Decides to be a Painter — His truly English Art— And original Manner— Seizes the peculiar Charac- teristics of our Scenery — Truthfulness of his Pictures— Effect of his own Manner of Painting under the Sun — His Maxims — His Execution and Manner of Painting— Defects of mere Imitative Art — His early and later Manner contrasted — The Painter's Materials poor Substitutes for imitating Nature— Constable tried great breadth of Treatment — Aban- doned the Practice of Painting direct from Nature — Description of his studied Sketches— His Appreciation of the Old Masters— Visitorship at the Royal Academy— His Character and his Kx\.—T>QdX\\— Augustus Wall Callcott, R.A. — His Boyhood and Bringing-up — Turns Artist — Becomes Student at the Academy— Tries Portraiture— Finds his true Bent in Land- scape—Elected R. A.— Attains a high Reputation— Varley's Astrological Prediction— He Marries — Travels in Italy — His Popularity and Success — Knightsd— His " Raphael and the Fornarina " — Recollections of him and of Lady Callcott — His "Milton dictating /5z;Wzj£ Z<7.r^ to his Daughters " — Loss of Health — And failing Powers — Appointed Surveyor of the Crown Pictures— Death— J" Fz7//fl/« Collins, Birth— Begins Life in Ait— His first Studies— Admitted to Morland's Painting-room — Influence of Morland's CONTENTS. PAGE Art — Student of the Academy — Exhibits his first Picture — His Industry — And Art-friendships — Paints Landscapes with Figures — Makes Progress but Slowly — His Works become Popular — The " Sale of the Pet Lamb" — Elected Associate — His Difficulties — Tries Coast Scenes — Gains high Patronage — Visits Italy — But does not add to his Reputation — Death — His Art — His Manner of Painting and Materials — Choice of Subjects 334 CHAPTER XXIX. Later Landscape Painters — Linnell, Creswick, Lee, Mason, Wai.ker, Lawson, and Oakes. J. Linnell — Thoroughly English Art — Begins by Painting Portraits and Minia- tures — Beauty of his Landscape Art — Friend of Blake — The " Last Gleam before the Storm" — Not a Member of the Royal Academy — Return to Redhill — Great Age — J. Creswick, R.A. — Painted eye of Pictures on the Spot — Landscapes elegant, but inclined to sameness — Want of Colour — Good Etcher — F. Lee^ R.A. — Excelled in those Works painted from Nature — G. H. Mason, A. R.A. — Exquisite Qualities of his Art — Small number of Pictures by him — Death — F. Walker, A. R.A. — Original and Idyllic Art — Training — Member of Royal Water-Colour Society — Delicacy of Health— Early Death— Pictures : " The Plough," " Harbour of Refuge," " The Vagrants " — C. Lawson — Self-taught Painter — Made by the Grosvenor Gallery — Premature Death — J. W. Oakes, A. R.A. — Harmonious Colour — Drawing Refined 35 i CHAPTER XXX. Ideal Landscape — Martin, Danby, and Poole. John Marlin — His Birth — Early Attachment to Art — Apprenticed — Runs away — Commences his Art-education — Muss the Enamel-painter — Martin comes to London — Applies himself to Study — Paints in Enamel at Collins's Manufac- tory — Exhibits at the RoyalAcademy 181 1 — His first Pictures — "Belshazzar's Feast "■ — Description of it — Discontented with the Royal Academy — But ex- hibits there — Not satisfied with the British Institution — ^Joins the Society of British Artists — Paints large Scriptural Subjects — Which, engraved, spread his Reputation — His Schemes of Public Utility — Sketches round London — In the midst of his Labours, struck with Paralysis — Death — Opinion upon his Art- Merits — Francis Danby, A. R.A. — Son of a small Irish Farm Proprie- tor — Begins Art-study in Dublin — Pupil of O'Connor — Exhibits his first Work — Comes to London — Stops at Bristol — Determines to remain in England — His "Upas Tree" described — "The Clearing-up after a Shower" — And "Sunset after a Storm" — Elected Associate of the Academy — But excluded from the full Honour — ^His "Delivery of Israel from Egypt " — Comparison with Martin — Long Residence Abroad — Resumes his Place at the Exhibitions — Death — True Poetry of his Art — Paul Falconer Poole, R.A. — Ideal Character of his Art — No Academical Education — — Never a Prolific Painter — True Poetry of his Work — Election to Royal Academy — Picture of "Solomon Eagle" — Competes for the Westminster Cartoons — Death 359 CONTENTS. CHAPTER xxxr. Roberts, Nasmyth, Bonington, Muller, and Lewis. IDavid Roberts, R.A.~Wi^ Birth-And Apprenticeship to a Painter and Deco- rator-! nes successfully Scene-Painting— Conies to London— Engaged as ^5^^"^;f^'"ter at Drury Lane-Exhibits Easel Pictures— Joins the Society ot British Artists on its Foundation— Elected into the Royal Academy— 1 ravels on the Continent— And in the East- Popularity of his Art— Visits J-T J ^/'^"^^ °^ "London from the Thames "—Sudden Death— His published W orks— Opinions upon his Kx\.— Patrick Nasmyik—The Son of a Landscape Painter— His early love of Nature— Comes to London at the age of T wenty— Falls into dissipated Habits— Paints English Scenery with great Iruih—Ru/iard Parkes i)W?«i^/^7«— Difficulties of his early Life— Ines Art in Pans-Gets his Art-Education there-His Genius and early Success-Premature Death— His great Talent for kxi— William 7. Muller —His early Genius- Leads him to Art -Travels in Germany, Switzerland, and Italy— Exhibits in London— Then visits Greece and Egypt— Joins the Expediiion to Lycia~On his Return settles in London— But disappointed —His Illness and Death— Frederick Lewis, R.A.—^is Birlh— Love w . ' J?"" Childhood— Studies Animal Painting-Success -Takes to W ater- Colours— Resumes Oil painting-Elected to the Academy— Wonder- tul Colour and Delicate Finish— Description of his Method— Too ereat Devotion to his Art— Death ... XXI PAGE CHAPTER XXXH. The Animal Painters and the Marine Painters. Tfhe Animal V?>:mt&x%-Sir Edtuin Landseer, R. .^.— His early Power of Drawing — Portraits of Animals— His Student Days-Dissections— Elected an fr-i:-^- ^\ Twenty-four— Poetry and Humour combined in his Subjects— \ r^^.^ ^ ^^""^ ^" ^^'^^ "-Fondness for Scotch Scenes- ' Ihe Old Shepherds Chief Mourner "—Pictures engrave well— Facility of Execution---Talents for Society— Illness and T)&2.ih— Richard Ansdell, (^•4- — Popularity — Visits Spain — Number of Pictures — Death — The Marine -Painters- C/a;-/&^^« Stanfield, R.A.—Goes to Sea-Takes to Scene Painting— Commission from William IV.— Skies— Member of Sketchinir Society -Friend of D. Roberts, R.A.~Ed7vard W. Cooke, R.A.—l.ove of Drawing as a Child— Taught by his Father— Visits Italy and Holland- Elected an A.R.A. in 1851— Illness and Death— Holland— Uz.xc\]y a Marine Painter— Views of Venice CHAPTER XXXIIL The School of Water-Colour Painters. Jo.diH James Chalon, v?.^.— Takes up Water-Colours— Joins the Water-Colour Society— Secedes, to seek Academy Honours— His eventual Success- Opinion upon his Talent— 77^(7 wa^ Tym/zij- Practises as Portrait Painter —Occasionally exhibits Subject- Pictures— Follows the Army in the Pe- ninsula—Paints the Officers* Portraits— The Duke of Wellington and his. CONTENTS. 1 Staff— Promotes the Foundation of the Society of British Artists — And the new "Water-Colonr Society — Opinion upon his Art — David Cox — His Childhood— And Beginning in Art — Becomes Scene-Painter — Tries Water- Colour Painting — His earnest Studies and Success — Manner of Painting — Its Individuality and Particular Merits— The "Welsh Funeral'"— 6a;«W _Prou(— Early Training— Engagement with Mr. Britton Drawings for him_joinstheWater-Colour Society— His Publications, his Style, Manner, and Choice of Subject described— /V^^r de Win/— liis Parentage— Hilton, R.A., his Fellow-student and Friend— Exhibits with the Water-Colour fc^ociety— His Art Career— And Art described— Manner of Painting — George Fennel Robson—Hxs Art Teaching— Early Success— Study in the High- lands — Love for Mountain Scenery — Progress in Art — Sudden Death — Willia7U Htint—Yi.\s Birthplace— Attachment to Art— Apprenticed to John Varley— Early Study — Long Art Career — Death — Character of his Art — And Manner of Execution — Copley Vandyke Fielding — Son of an Artist- Pupil of Varley— Member and President of Water-Colour Society — Flffect of Teaching upon his Art— C^^^^r^^ Cattermole—VW's, Tramatic Art— Louis Haghe— Edward Djtncan— George J. Pinwell— Samuel Palmer— Poetical Art— His Training— Care in the Selection of his Materials—" S. Paul Landing in Italy' — ' The Milton Series "—Method of Work- Character and Death CHAPTER XXXIV. Institutions Affecting the Spread of Art. Prevalence of Galleries on the Continent — Want of a National Collection of Paintings in England — Purchase of the Angerstein Pictures — Formation of a choice Collection of Works of the Italian School— Valuable Gifts of British Pictures to the Nation— Great Increase of Artists — Want of Room for the Exhibition of their Works — Foundation of the Society of British Artists— Its first Members— Its Exhibitions, Schools, &c. — Thomas C. Hojland, Landscape Painter— Wilson, Marine VsSxiitx— George Lance, Painter of Still Life— William Duffield 4 CHAPTER XXXV. Fresco-Painting and State Patronage. The Public recognize, in the Destruction of the Houses of Parliament, an Oppor- tunity to Promote Art — House of Commons' Committee recommend the Opportunity should not be lost — Royal Commission issued to effect this Object— Its Constitution and Influence— Inflated Hopes raised among Artists and the Public — The Commission adopt Fresco-painting for the Decoration of the new Parliamentary Palace — And invite Competition — A second Competition— And a third — The Exhibition in Westminster Hall — Disappointment of the Profession— One Fresco completed— Delays of the Commission — And Strange Conditions proposed to the Artists — A Compe- tition in Oil Paintings — But no Employment to the Competitors — The Public lose Patience — The House of Commons refuse a Vote of Money — The fancy Tudor Portraits— Commissioners defend their Proceedings— And abandon Fresco— Their final Report— And Failure— Opinion upon their Acts — And their Influence on Art CONTENTS. XXI CHAPTER XXXVI. Maclisk, Ward, Eastlake, Phillip, Elmore, and O'Neil. Daniel Maclise, R.A.—^\xi\\ and Art-education — Subject -pictures — Employed to Decorate the Houses of Parliament— Waterloo"—" Trafalgar "-^(/war,/ Matthew Ward, y?.y^.— Early love of Art— Education in Art— Subject-Pic- tures— "Dr. Johnson"— "Marie Antoinette in the Temple"— Eiody lay in state in the rooms of the Adelphi, in the presence of his great work, and he was buried in St. Paul's, where he rests, side by side with the great ones of his profession. The third painter, whose works are the subject of comment in this chapter, is John Singleton Copley, R.A. Less lofty in the subjects ha chose for illustration than West and Barry, and finding his inspiration in the exalted deeds of his own time rather than hi sacred or classic lore, G 82 A CENTUR V OF PAINTERS. his works naturally appealed to popular enthusiasm. Born 3rd_ July, 1737, of Irish parents, immediately upon their arrival in America, at Boston, then a British colony, he was led early in life by his own tastes to drawing, and, out of the reach of academies and masters, he was left unobtrusively to make his own way. He began with portraits and domestic groups, for which he found the backgrounds in the wild-wood scenery around him. In 1760, and yearly till 1767, he sent pictures to London for exhibition, where these works attracted notice, and raised expectations of his future career. He was making a good income at Boston by his portraits, but he looked forward with a longing desire to see the great works of art in the old country, and for this he husbanded his gains. In 1774 he was enabled to start for Europe with the intention of making a tliree years' tour. He took London on his way, and from thence went on direct to Rome, but in the following year he visited the chief seats of art in the cities of Italy, Germany, and the Low Countries, and after a short stay in Paris, returned to London at the end of the year 1775, and decided to settle here. In 1776 he exhibited at the Royal Academy a work called, in the phraseology of that day, " A Conversation," that is, a group of portraits, either small or of life-size, engaged or grouped in some simple manner ; and in the same year he was elected an associate of the newly-formed body. Shortly after Copley had exhibited his first work in the Royal Academy, an event occurred of great national importance, which must also, from the circumstances of his birth and parentage, have had a peculiar interest for the painter. In the spring of the year 1778, William Pitt, the celebrated Earl of Chatham, who had ever ojDposed the taxation of our American possessions, and held the opinion "that this kingdom has no right to levy a tax upon her colonies," came down to the House of Lords, while still suffering from a severe attack of the gout, to take part in a discussion on American affairs. He had already spoken at some length, but got up again to reply to some observations of the Duke of Richmond, when he suddenly fell fainting and insensible into the arms of the surrounding peers. This was on the 7th of April. He was removed at once to his house at Hayes in Kent, where he lingered for a short time, and died on the iith of the succeeding month. This incident furnished a noble subject for the painter, and one for which Copley was peculiarly well qualified. He commenced the large picture of '/The Death of the Earl of Chatham," now in our National Gallery, painting distinct portraits of the various peers holding office, or otherwise present on that occasion. Altogether the work is a fine composition : the principal incident and group well supported by the secondary ones ; the difficulties on the whole successfully surmounted, and the story solemnly and touchingly told ; FIRST HISTORY PAINTERS OF THE ENGLISH SCHOOL. 83 while as a group of portraits of the great men of that age, it will grow in interest with the natives of our owa land, as well as with those for which the great orator laboured with his last breath. The picture was engraved by Bartolozzi, who made some beautiful drawings from the principal heads and produced a work so highly popular, that we are told 2,^00 copies were sold in the course of a few weeks. It has been said that the painter, on his first arrival in England, took the house, No. 25, George Street, Hanover Square, in which he lived until his death, and in which his distinguished son resided during a lon^^ life and also died. But from the original proposals, issued in^March^ 1780, for pubhshmg a print from "The Death of Chatham," we find it stated that, " subscriptions are received by Mr. Copley, at his house No 12, in Leicester Fields," so that it must have been somewhat later that he removed to George Street. In 1779, Copley was elected a full member of the Royal Acad.-my. He had now the difficult task of supporting the reputation he had gained but he was equally fortunate in the subject he chose for his next import- ant picture. " A body of French troops having invaded the island of Jersey in the year 1781, possessed themselves of the town of St. Helier's, and taking the Lieutenant-Governor prisoner, obliged him, in that situation, to sign a capitulation to surrender the island. Major Pierson a gallant young officer, less than twenty-four years of age, sensible of the invalidity of the capitulation made by the Lieutenant-Governor whilst he was a prisoner, with great valour and prudence attacked and totally defeated the French troops, and thereby rescued the island, and gloriously maintained the honour of the British army. Unfortunately this brave officer fell in the moment of victory ; not by a chance shot but by a ball levelled at him, with the design, by his death, to check the ardour of the British troops. The major's death was instantly retaliated by his black servant on the man who shot the major." The background of the picture is an exact view of the spot where the battle was fought ; introduced in the central group are the portraits of twelve persons, officers of the psth Regiment and others, including the faithful black who avenged his master's death. There is but little of conventionality, and great sense of truth and naturalness, in the way in which the painter has treated the incident It appears as if the event must have happened as it is represented' Indeed, an authority on battles, the great Duke of Wellington himself when seated before it at dinner, is said on more than one occasion to have expressed his admiration of the picture, and to have affirmed that It was the best representation of a battle he had ever seen. The colour of the picture is agreeable, fresh, and pure— the handling very vigorous ; and it remains to this day one of the first pictures of its G 2 84 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. class in the English school ; less talked of, perhaps, because less known than West's " Death of Wolfe," but a work of far higher merit. It was painted for Alderman Boydell, but it is now in the National Gallery. Copley next proceeded to carry out a work of which the composition and design had been prepared for some years : " Charles I. demanding, in the House of Commons, the Five Impeached Members." ^ The City of London now gave him a commission to' paint for their Guildhall a large picture of " The Repulse and Defeat of the Spanish Floating Batteries at Gibraltar by Lord Heathfield." It is said that the painter went to Gibraltar to prepare sketches of various ofifjcers of the garrison, and to study the locality for this work, which is quite in keep- ing with his known desire to treat his incidents in strict accordance with the locality. Many of the drawings of groups for the picture remain, which serve to illustrate his readiness as a draughtsman, and the manner in which he conducted his work. The groups were carefully arranged, and spiritedly drawn from nature, on a small scale in black and white chalk on grey paper. These drawings were evidently enlarged by squaring on to the canvas, and the work was painted at orice. The picture itself is finely composed, and painted in the same simple and vigorous manner as Copley's other works — a manner which, if it pre- cludes the refinements of colour, stands well because the work was done at once. It has the same freshness of colour and look of out-of-doors daylight which is characteristic of his art. It is boldly conceived, uniting an action on the sea with one on shore, the difficulty of the two planes being well overcome by placing the militaiy on the raised platform ot the fort. The sailors are thus sufficiently removed into the distance, although close to the bottom line of the picture, and the figures in the naval action are reduced to about half life-size. The portraits of the fifteen principal personages engaged in the conflict are introduced into the work. No doubt naval "cntics may find fault with the accessories, but to the artist or to the general spectator the bustle and animation of the scene are well given. The picture, when exhibited, was so popular that it is said to have been visited by 60,000 people, and that the net profits arising from the exhibition of that work and the " Death of Chatham," amounted together to 5,000^. Copley continued in the practice of his profession, painting both portraits and historical pictures until his death at the advanced age of seventy-eight, on the 9th December, 1815. He was very fortunate in the line of art he adopted ; he appealed to national taste in his subjects, and to the national love of portraiture in his mode of illustrating them. When he turned to sacred themes, of which he left behind him a few small pictures, he was far less successful, because less original. We can trace the adoption of figures and attitudes from the greater masters who FIRST HISTORY PAINTERS OF THE ENGLISH SCHOOL. 85 had occupied that field, and we feel how wise he was to continue in the walk he had chosen for himself Many have since his day undertaken groups of portraiture connected with some historical event, but few have treated such subjects so satisfactorily as John Singleton Copley. His manner, we are told by several authorities, was laboriously slow, though we should not have judged so from his works. Mr. Serjeant, an American painter, says : — - " He painted a very beautiful head of my mother, who told me that she sat to him fifteen- or sixteen times, six hours at a time ; and that once she had been sitting to him for many hours, when he left the room for a few minutes, but requested she would not move from her seat during his absence. She had the curiosity, however, to peep at the picture, and to her astonishment she found it all rubbed out." " When painting a portrait Copley used to match with his palette-knife a tint for every part of the face, whether in light, shadow, or reflection. This occupied himself and the sitter a long time before he touched the canvas. One of the most beautiful of his portrait-compositions is at Windsor Castle, and represents a group of the royal children playing in a garden with dogs and parrots. It was painted at Windsor, and during the operation, the children, the dogs, and the parrots became equally wearied. The per- sons who were obliged to attend them while sitting, complained to the Queen ; the Queen complained to the King ; and the King to Mr. West, who had obtained the commission for Copley. Mr. West satisfied his Majesty that Mr. Copley must be allowed to proceed in his own way, and that any attempt to hui ryhim might be injurious to the picture, which would be a very fine one when done." The tedious preparatory practice for this picture (which is now at Buckingham Palace) is, how- ever, not inconsistent with rapid execution when the work was actually begun. CHAPTER IX. GEORGE ROMNEY AND JOSEPH WRIGHT (oF DERBy). While Barry, West, and Copley were devoting themselves principally to historic art, there were other English painters, their contemporaries, who endeavoured to uphold and continue the fame of English portraiture, even during the lifetime of Reynolds and Gainsborough. Of these George Romney and Joseph Wright, known as Wright of Derby, demand our notice ; but while making them the joint subjects of this chapter, they have no other connexion either in their art or their lives, than may be assigned to them as contemporaries holding rank in the same profession, of whose art it is convenient to treat together. It has been objected to Reynolds that he spent much of his life and wasted his fine powers in experiments on colouring. The same cannot be said of either Copley or West ; one method seems to characterize all their works, which evince great readiness, and in Copley's case great apparent power of painting at once, great decision of handhng ; but both had little feeling as pamters. There is no doubt that much of the common appearance of the works of both Copley and West resulted from a poor executive ; even in the disrupted and cracked surface of Reynolds there is ever a noble quahty seen beneath, and the very texture of decay is less offensive in him than the uniform hard surface and dry juiceless cracks in their pictures — for even their works have cracked- — but without that luscious richness as of an over-ripe fruit, which characterizes the work of Reynolds. West, Copley, F. Cotes, R.A. (b. 1726, d. 1770), N. Dance, R.A. (b. 1730, D. 181 1), and, in his early portraits, Wright of Derby, painted solidly and at once, and cared very little if at all for the ground ; and in this they followed the executive methods of the old school. They showed great dexterity, but at the same time great sameness of handling, and a dry unvaried surface that gets hair-cracked, and may GEORGE ROMNEY AND JOSEPH WRIGHT {OF DERBY). 87 rise from the ground and scale off, but rarely draws together, and never gives signs of flowing in the darks. A curious portrait on one of the staircases at Hatfield will illustrate both this indifference to the ground on which they painted, and the solid execution of the period. It is a whole-length of one of the noble house of Cecil, in the flowing wig and costume of the early half of the eighteenth century. Having on some occasion been placed in the hands of a picture-cleaner, the curls of the wig were wiped away, and a por- trait of the Duke of Monmouth in armour began to emerge to the light of day. No doubt the painter had taken a portrait of the disgraced duke, and used the canvas for another sitter without further preparation, solidly painting the head of his new sitter over the old one. By the followers of such a method, the only advance possible is in the direction of rapid and dexterous execution, and this it has been shown that the painters we have been adverting to achieved. Northcote, Opie, Hopp- ner, and others of the succeeding race, of whom we shall presently speak, followed, on the contrary, or attempted to follow, the methods of Reynolds. They adopted and used his pigments with all their faults, realizing few of the beauties he achieved with them ; they sought to arrive at his impasto, but rather by the loading of successive repetitions than by the proper preparation of a ground on which to place their finishing paintings; and the result was, and is, that their works, like his, have made rapid progress in decay — a decay that is unaccompanied with the richness and beauty that lingers even in the perishing works of Reynolds. Still the method, although ill-appreciated and faultily adopted, was one that permitted progress and encouraged experiments, and the English school, after floundering awhile with perishing materials, falsely used, and methods of painting ill-understood, is at last again making sound advances, and has maintained a reputation as a school of colour which could never have resulted from the methods of West, Copley, and their predecessors. Geo7-ge Roi?tney was born on the 26th December, 1734, at Dalton-le- Furness, Lancashire, and Hayley, his biographer, tells us he was the son of a man of many occupations, builder, merchant, and farmer, and was apprenticed to a cabinetmaker, with whom he acquired some skill at his trade. His first indication of talent for the art in which he became celebrated, was shown in sketching from memory the features of a casual visitor at the parish church of his native village, and he was stimulated to improve himself by a friend of the name of Williamson, an eccentric man devoted to chemistry and alchemy. Romney afterwards studied under a Cumberland artist of the name of Steel, to whom he was apprenticed by his father. His master, who seems to have been a rollicking blade, and was known by the cognomen of Count Steel, was 88 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. but little older than the pupil, and being engaged in a love-affair with a neighbouring lady, employed his apprentice to assist him in carrying on a clandestine corresi)ondence with her, which ended in Steel's eloping with the lady to Scotland, and leaving his pupil behind in a fit of fever and sickness arising from " his exertions in assisting the escape of the bride." Romney was nursed in his sickness by a compassionate young girl, and her attention and his gratitude resulted in a precipitate marriage in 1756, when the painter was barely twenty-two years of age. The painter's son speaks of his mother as of the same rank in life as his father. The after- conduct of Romney towards his wife and children seems to evidence tenderness for himself, love of his own ease and advancement, but little for those whom it was his first duty to cherish and protect. He resolved, instead of settling, "to wander forth alone in quest of profes- sional adventures." Rambling over the north, painting heads life-size at two guineas, and small whole-lengths for six guineas, he contrived to save nearly 100/., when, taking 30/. of this sum for his own expenses, he gave the rest to his dutiful and unoffending wife, now burdened with two children, and left the north and his family to seek his fortune in the great metropolis. He arrived in London in the year 1762, and his first success was attained in historical painting. For a picture of the " Death of General Wolfe," he obtained from the infant Society of Arts a donation of 25/. In 1764, Romney left London for the Continent, for a short visit 10 Paris, where he carefully examined the works of art. On his return he removed into Gray's Inn, and was soon engaged in painting the members of the legal profession. In 1765 he exhibited a picture of the death of " King Edward," and now received from the Society of Arts its second prize of fifty guineas. He then removed to Newport Street, Long Acre, and was, we are told by one of his pupils, in the receipt of 1,200/. a year from his profession, when he boldly resolved to quit present affluence and reputation, and with a view to improvement, to make a long visit to Italy. In March, 1773, in company with Ozias Humphrey, a brother artist, he took his way to the Continent for the second time ; after a short stay at Paris, the two companions pro- ceeded slowly, making their journey somewhat of a tour of pleasure. During their passage from Genoa to Ostia, they were in great danger from a storm, and, when Romney's companion rallied him on his con- sternation and gravity, he was assured that "it did not arise from personal fear, but from tender concern at the prospect of being suddenly separated for ever from his friends and relations ; " relations whom, in his now affluent condition, he left in separate loneliness in the far north, nor sought to share with them the advantages arising from his gratified GEORGE ROMNEY AND JOSEPH WRIGHT {OF DERBY). 89 ambition. The travellers arrived in Rome on the i8th of June, and here from a singular mental infirmity— a perpetual dread of enemies— Romney avoided all further intercourse with his fellow-traveller, and with all his countrymen then studying in Rome. What the nature of his labours was, it is not possible at this distance of time to determine : he made a few studies, and at least one copy from Raphael, and after some months returned to England, by way of Venice and Parma (making a stay at bolh places), in the beginning of July, 1775 ; and at Christmas of the same year, finally settled himself in Cavendish Square, in the house where Cotes had lived before him, and which was afterwards occupied by Sir Martin A. Shee. The time had now arrived when we should expect that Romney would send for his wife and children, who, daring the many long years he had been struggling upwards, had been left to lead a life of lonely separation in Lancashire. He was master of his time, in full practice, estabhshed in reputation, settled in a noble mansion, where a wife's help might indeed be useful, and her society, with that of his two children, have tended to drive away the moody demon that seemed to be his continual com- panion. But, though his poet-biographer, Hayley, induced Romney to spend a few weeks with him at Earlham every season for twenty years, during the whole of this time he paid only two visits to his wife and children. Settled in Cavendish Square, Romney began by charging fifteen guineas for a head life-size, and proportionately for half and whole- lengths. With such time as a constant influx of sitters left at his com- mand, he was now ambitious of higher and nobler attempts and wished to return to historic art ; thus many subject-pictures were begun. But the painter's invention was more fervid than deep ; easily excited, but soon satiated. Moreover, Romney had never had a proper education in art, he was no anatomist, and as a work approached completion, partly from im- perfect knowledge, and partly from not having carefully considered it as a whole before commencing, he found his difficulties increase upon him, and no doubt was tempted to lay the canvas aside in hopes of an easier conquest. He loved sketching, he loved portrait painting, which required little more thought, as he painted, than to follow the leadings of his model. He loved to paint from the fair Emma, as Hayley calls Lady Hamilton, the person raised from a painter's model to be an ambassador's wife and the intimate of queens and princesses, — to paint the fair Emma as Contemplation or Innocence, or any other abstraction ; but he did not love the dry labour of thought, the painful toil of comple- tion when the first fervour of the imagination is jaded ; he disliked that mere executive which is the body to the spirit, the necessary clog that 90 A CENTUR Y OF PAINTERS. holds the painter to the earth when he would desire to soar aloft into the heaven of invention. Hence the number of his portraits and sketches, the number of commencements of pictures — cartloads it is said, which were removed from Hampstead after his death — and hence the incompleteness of even those works which Romney himself deemed finished. Nevertheless in portraiture, having adopted a broad and general manner, and being ready in execution to the extent which he carried his art, his pencil was in continual occupation. We find that in 1783 his portraits had risen so high in the public estimation that he was regarded as the rival of Reynolds. Lord Thurlow, who was among the number of his sitters, alluding to the rivalry between the two painters, said, " Reynolds and Romney divide the town, I am of the Romney faction." Even Northcote allows that " Reynolds was not much employed as a portrait painter after Romney grew into fashion." With increase of sitters our painter from time to time increased his prices, and during the latter years of his practice his annual income from portraits alone was nearly four thousand pounds. In this full tide of fame and practice we might have expected that Romney would seek to become a member of the Royal Academy. There is no doubt that his talent would have claimed a ready entrance, and that among the members generally he would have found a welcome ; but there were many reasons why he was disinclined to this step. To the original forty members had now been added the body of associates, and though, in his own opinion, and in the eyes of his immediate friends, equal to the best, he must have gone through the prescribed form, and entered in the junior rank, waiting a longer or shorter time for his translation to the higher honours. Besides, it would appear that at that time some canvassing was expected (a thing positively unknown in the last quarter of a century), and to this he could not stoop. We are told elsewhere that he avoided the company of his brother artists, yet continually complained that they neglected and shunned him ; and that professional rivalry with Sir Joshua made him beyond measuie jealous, yet fearful to place his works side by side with those of the President on the walls of a public exhibition. They would certainly have shown to disadvantage so contrasted, which Romney avoided by their being only seen in his domestic gallery. Dr. Johnson said of Reynolds, " that he was one of the most invulnerable of men," yet he felt annoyed by this rivalry of fashion rather than of art, and could fpeak disparagingly of "the man in Cavendish Square," while there hardly existed one whose sensitiveness it was more easy to wound than Romney; and he, notwithstanding his success, was but too well aware GEORGE ROMNEY AND JOSEPH WRIGHT {OF DERBY). 91 that the world of art was with Reynolds, if for a time the world of fashion had left the President's door to throng to his own. While in full practice as a portrait painter, and in the intervals of his sitters, giving reins to his imagination in multitudes of sketches for subjects never completed, he occasionally finished what may be called a fancy picture. In 1786, when Alderman Boydell first broached his scheme of a gallery of subjects from Shakespeare's plays, Romney entered into the project with his usual ardour. He immediately begun a picture of "The Shipwreck" from the Tempest., and working at it more perseveringly than was usual with him. finished it early in the spring of 1790. When this work was completed, his great rival Reynolds had ceased to paint, and Romney was left supreme in portraiture. But the demon of melancholy that had haunted him in his lonely home from the very days of his youth upward, was not to be driven forth by prosperity or by fame. The painter, to shun it, might fly from London and from his sitters to Earlham or Felpham, he might muster his sketches and propose to himself the happiness of new labours, but it followed him and dogged his path. London was, or was supposed to be, unhealthy, and the painter took to sleeping at Hampstead, first riding, afterwards walking in the morning to his town studio. For a while he flattered himself that his evil spirit had left him. He bought land and erected a house after his own heart, and to his own plans in that healthful suburb. He had a large gallery for his works, a chamber where, as he lay, a mag- nificent view of the far-away city was before his eyes — an intervening country, not as now, covered with a tangled net of railways, where houses seem daily to grow out of the ground, but where sweet pastures and bright meadows sloped away to the quiet outskirts. Here again he dreamt of finishing his many subjects ; but alas ! the time was gone by, the power of his hand — the cunning of his art had fled. He thought ot those he had left in the north, and in 1798 he paid them at last a visit. No more the ambitious youth who had left wife and children in search of wealth and fame, but a poor broken-down hypochondriac. It is true that he came back awhile to find his house at Hampstead, his gallery, and his studio, in every respect complete — to pay one more visit to Felpham and Hayley, but no less to find his utter inability to paint. His dream of ambition was at an end. He sold his house in Cavendish Square to Shee, and soon after quitted London, and saw it no more. Hayley's influence over Romney seems, on the whole, to have been unpropitious, since he nursed the painter's maudlin sensibility, en- couraged him in the idle habit of mere sketching, and flattered many of his foibles and weaknesses. How did his long-neglected wife receive the man who had only come 92 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. back to her when the pleasures of life had passed away ; the man who had deserted the mother of his children in her young days, and had selfishly passed all his best years apart from her, nor had allowed her to share his hopes, his fame, or the society that wealth had gathered around him ? O wonder of woman's loving patient endurance during thirty years of cruel absence ! She received him on his return without upbraiding ; and " he had the comfort of finding an attentive, affectionate nurse in a most exemplary wife, who had never been irritated to an act of unkind- ness or an expression of reproach by his years of absence and neglect." Romney's character was a strange anomaly. He could be senti- mentally eloquent, no doubt, and speak tenderly, though his life was a long act of cruelty. A year before his own malady drove him to his long-shunned home he wrote thus of the widow of poor Hodges : — " I shall never forget when I found her at breakfast with her little children, her voice, her face, more enchanting than I ever thought them before : for the gratification of the same looks and voice, I think I could travel a hundred miles." Did he think of his own wife at Kendal ? of his own children, whose youthful love he had never known ? Now he lingered awhile at Kendal, acknowledging, in his letters to his London friends, the tender solicitude of his wife ; longed earnestly for the return of his brother, who had risen to be a general in the Indian army, and who came just in time to see, and to be doubtfully recognized by Romney, ere, as Cumberland says, in his memoir of the painter, he sank into an inglorious grave in November, 1802, When we endeavour to form an estimate of Romney as an artist, we are inclined to wonder at the position he held in his own day, and while Gainsborough and Reynolds were yet living ; for whatever merit we may allow to Romney as a painter, and he had great merit, yet we cannot compare him with either of these his contemporaries. He was enthu- siastic and energetic, and full of a certain nervous sensibility that is akin to poetic genius. His imagination was more active than his persever- ance, and he was easily excited to begin, and as easily tempted to lay aside, his work ; as far as observation went he endeavoured to overcome the imperfection of his early training, but downright labour to that end was easily laid aside. Could art come by mere impulse, he would have been a great artist. His sojourn in Italy led him to love and follow Correggio rather than the Venetians, and from him Romney derived a certain breadth and simplicity of manner that was apt to degenerate into generality and emptiness. His manner once fixed, we see none of the varied modes of execution, and of the preparation of the work that are so evident even from the very failures of Reynolds. We are told by his pupil, Robinson, that latterly he glazed his pictures much, and missed the pure tints of his earlier works ; but by glazing he must have meant GEORGE ROMNEY AND JOSEPH WRIGHT {OF DERBY). 93 "toning," since Romney's works are very solidly painted. He had little of the power of adding individuality to beauty. His colouring is void of variety of tint, and tends to red and brown, his flesh is apt to be rather bricky, and to want that luminous and golden glow which hardly any but Reynolds and the great Venetians have achieved, while his forms are unmodelled and devoid of bones. There is a pleasing breadth almost amounting to grandeur in some of his works, but it ever seems as if he had the power to carry them up to a certain point only, and could not complete them. If they have a flavour of Correggio, it is without his rich completing glazings, and rather as the works of that great artist appear after they have been, by the skill of the picture-cleaner, divested entirely of their richness of surface. Romney's art was rather largely represented at the autumn exhibition of the British Institution, in 1863, twenty-one of his works being hung in juxtaposition with some of those of his great rivals, Gainsborough and Reynolds. Among these works were, of course, three or four Lady Hamiltons, with Serenas, Hebes,- &c., most likely inspired by the same enchantress. Here was also the historical picture of " Newton Showing the Effects of the Prism," painted as a companion to " Milton Dictating to his Daughters." The drawing is poor and without much character, the flesh dirly and hot, and the treatment of action and expression weak and common-place; there is little of dignity either in the personages represented or in the painter's art. One or two of his portraits here were finely and solidly painted and beautifully handled, and certainly better than many by Lawrence. Others in the collection, however, were as bad as these were good, and it was singular to feel how weak and tame were his portraits of children. A portrait of Lord Stanley and his sister in their childhood— but beyond that infantile period to which we allude— is, however, a good specimen of the painter, the boy's head really good. But we may sum up all that is to be said of Romney in this, that whatever he did Reynolds had done far better ; that his art did not advance the taste of the age, or the reputation of the school, and that it is quite clear, however fashion or faction may have upheld him in his own day, the succeeding race of painters owed little or nothing to his teaching. Joseph Wright, called Wright of Derby, like Romney, was among the painters who were established in full practice before the foundation of the Royal Academy. He was born , in Derby, 3rd September, 1734 and was the son of an attorney of that midland town. His first bent was towards mechanical contrivance. He afterwards showed a liking for art, which his father encouraged, sending him to London in 175 1, and placing him under Hudson, then in the height of fashionable employment. After studying two years with the master of Reynolds, 94 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. young Wright returned to Derby, and there practised his profession with some success, but subsequently feeling his deficient art-knowledge, the young painter revisited the metropolis and the studio of his old master, rernaining with him on the second occasion for fifteen months, after which he settled in his native town. Here he obtained the patronage of the neighbouring gentry, and painted many portraits, and also subject- pictures, such as "The Orrery," ''The Iron Forge," and "An Experi- ment v/ith the Air Pump." In all these the painter has sought to give the effect of artificial hght, a walk of art which he eventually made almost his own, treating both subject-pictures, and afterwards land- scapes and marine pictures, as lighted by fire-light, by conflagrations, or by moonlight, and rendering such treatments with much fidelity and truth. He continued to reside in Derby until 1773, and many of his best pictures, including those named above, were painted in this period. In 1773 he married, and took that opportunity to visit Italy, where he remained two years, studying, it is said, the works of the great masters, especially those of Michael x^ngelo, from which he made many copies on a large scale. But however much the works in the Sistine Chapel may have impressed him at the time, they had little influence on his subsequent practice. During his residence in Italy, he made many landscape-sketches, and collected a large amount of material, which enabled him on his return to practise this branch of art largely, treating it also under his favourite effects of artificial light. While at Naples he was fortunate in seeing a memorable eruption of Vesuvius, when he carefully noted the effect of the flames on the noble scenery of the city and the bay. He also visited the caves at Capri, and the Grotto of Posilipo, and on his return painted these subjects frequently, varying the effects and the accessories. Thus in the list of his pictures, "Vesuvius," and " Conflagrations of Vesuvius," often recur, together with "Cottages on Fire," "Moonlights," "Cavern-scenes," "Sunsets," &c. Wilson, who admired Wright's artifice, used to say : — " Give me your firelight, and I will give you my daylight." But Wn'ght had no need to exchange, since he was well patronized in his day, and in a list of 164 of his works published after bis death, there are only about twenty-five which have not the name of the proprietor to whom they belong or for whom they were painted. When Wright returned to England in 1775, he went to live at Bath. Gainsborough had just left, and he hoped to find a good opening for himself as a portrait painter. But he met with no encouragement, and after about two years he returned to Derby, where he finally settled. In the midst of his relations, honoured by his townsmen, with ample pro- fessional employment, he had little- inducement to leave it for the great GEORGE ROMNEY AND JOSEPH WRIGHT {OF DERBY). 95 metropolis, although often urged to do so. Here he continued to reside until 1797, wlien a Ungering iUness terminated his Ufe on the 2g\h of August. There is a painful solidity of execution, a want of quaUtv and texture both in the flesh and the draperies of his portraits, so that when placed beside the works of Reynolds or Gainsborough, they remind us of the labours of the house-painter ; they show little variety of handling — flesh, drapery, sky, and trees, being all executed in the same painty manner. He adopted a shadow colour, with a purplish hue, such as would result from Indian red and blue-black, which prevails throughout his portraits, and gives them a heavy look, and has an unpleasant effect both in the shadows and half-tints. The colour in these works is defective, but in his subjects treated with artificial light, since tone rather than colour is sought, his defect as a colourist is less seen. His landscapes are large and simple in manner, but heavy and empty. Some of them have sadly failed from the pigments and vehicle used in them, while others remain perfectly sound — those on which, in order to obtain an artificial effect, he had often to repeat his painting, are the most injured, such as his" Eruptions of Vesuvius;" while the simpler treatments, as the " Windermere " and other lake scenery, painted after his visit to Westmoreland in 1793, are in good condition, as are also most of his portraits. Wright's intercourse with his brother-artists was limited to sending an occasional picture to the Exhibition of the Incorporated Society. When the Academy was formed, although he was at that time producing some of his best pictures— pictures which fully entitled him to a place among the forty — his name was not included in the first Hst. On his return from Rome in 1775 — perhaps for the sake of keeping up his practice while in London— he entered as a student in the Royal Academy, and in November, 1781, was elected an associate of the body. It has often been a cause of complaint and animadversion that he was never elected a full member, and he is said to have thrown up his diploma of associate in disgust. In a sketch of his life, written the year he died, we are told that " he felt a repugnance to send his works to an exhibition where he had too much cause to complain of their being improperly placed, and sometimes even upon the ground, that, if possible, they might escape the public eye. This narrow jealousy, added to the circumstance of his being rejected as an R.A. at the time Mr, Garvey was a successful candidate, did not tend to increase his opinion of the liberality of his brethren of the profession. The Academy, however, being afterwards aware of the impropriety of thus insulting a man of his abilities, deputed their secretary, Newton, to go to Derby to solicit his acceptatice of a diploma, which he indignantly rejected." We find from the Academy records, though, that Wright was elected 96 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. a full member in February, 1784, but he then refused to comply with the law of the Academy, which requires a member to present one of his works to the Academy before receiving his diploma, and ordered his name to be removed from the list of associates. All we know of Wright proves him to have been a man of a shy, nervous, melancholic temper, always ailing, and not suffering the less if his ills were only fancies. His portrait alone is a sufficient confirmation of this, but all accounts confirm it. Dr. Darwin, who was his friend, and was often consulted upon his imaginary complaints, once told him "he had but one thing more to recommend. He thought that it would do him good to be engaged in a vexatious lawsuit " — anything to divert the hypochondriac from dwelling upon himself. Wright had never been more than an occasional exhibitor at the Royal Academy— indeed the account he gives of his own health would pre- clude us from looking for him as a constant contributor. After his refusal of the Academy honours in 1784 we are not surprised to miss his name for two or three seasons, but in 1788 he reappears as the exhibitor of five landscapes. In 1794, his name appears for the last time, his works being " An Eruption of Vesuvius," and " A Village on Fire." Having made a journey into the county expressly to see some of the works of this Derbyshire artist, we were shown many, both portraits, landscapes, and figure-subjects, reported to be amongst his best, but always disappointing to our expectations. It was, therefore, a source of real satisfaction when Mr. Edward Tyrrell presented to the National Gallery the picture we have mentioned — "An Experiment with the Air Pump." It is a very clever and vigorous work, with the figures life-size. The air pump is on the table in the centre of a group, and the light placed within the machine radiates out on the surrounding faces of children, young men and maidens, and more aged spectators. The drawing and composition is satisfactory, and there is a great contrast in the character, expression, and the very varied attitudes of the several heads. The flesh of the faces is good in colour and most carefully modelled ; indeed, the young woman on the right, in blue, and the lad drawing down a curtain to shut out the moonlight on the left, are worth especial observation for this quality. The draperies are all care- fully painted from Nature, a merit apparent also in most of Wright's portraits. There is a pretty little incident, rendered with feeling and true expression, in the group of two young girls, touched with childish sorrow and dread of what they are told is to be the result of " the ex- periment " — the death of the bird confined in the glass receiver of the machine. The colour of the whole is pleasant, the execution firm and solid, and the brown shadows, although dark, are sufficiently rich and luminous, GEORGE ROMNEY AND JOSEPH WRIGHT {OF DERBY). 97 the picture very agreeable in general tone. It is satisfactory to find this work so sound, and to have such a representation of this painter's art ; yet on the whole it cannot be said that Wright's pictures have added much to the reputation of the British school, and as a portrait painter, he is only in the second rank. H CHAPTER X. PROGRESS OF HISTORIC ART. Very soon after the foundation of the Royal Academy a great move- ment took place in art. Our artists were emulous to distinguish them- selves ; and, as a body, were desirous of engaging in works which should cultivate the taste of their countrymen for pictorial design. The members of the Academy led the way, and offered to decorate St. Paul's Cathedral at their own expense, with appropriate paintings from Scripture subjects. They selected Reynolds, their president, West, Barry, Cipriani, Dance, and Angelica Kauflfman, for this undertaking, and made this generous proposal in 1773, to the Dean and Chapter, in such terms as they hoped would insure its acceptance and success— offering to receive the suggestions of the Dean and Chapter for alterations or amendments of their works when completed, and to remove them if not finally approved. This noble offer was accepted by the Dean, who readily obtained the sanction of the King; but the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London, who are the trustees of the cathedral, disapproved ; and the latter (Bishop Terrick) strenuously op- posed it as an artful intrusion of Popery, and the whole plan fell to the ground, and the ardent desire of the body of artists ended only in disappointment. Looking back from our present position, and with our advanced knowledge on the subject, we feel confident that this disappointment was on the whole for the advantage of art. The subject of mural de- coration at that time had not received the consideration it has since obtained throughout Europe. The principles of pictorial art as an adjunct to architecture had not been in the least studied, and mere pictorial treatment would have undoubtedly prevailed. The vehicle in which the works would have been executed would most likely have been oil ; and oil, with all the faulty and insecure pigments then and for a long time after in use. Had the proposal been carried out we might PROGRESS OF HISTORIC ART. 99 now be contemplating an incomplete series of works far advanced in ruin and decay, unsuited to their situation, incongruous with one another from lacking the direction of a leading mind, and altogether affording an argument against rather than in favour of further attempts. A few years later the members of the Academy warmly supported the plan of a "Shakspeare Gallery," which originated with Alderman Boydell. When a young man, John Boydell had been struck by an indifferent engraving, the work of Mr. Toms, probably from its accurate delineation of a scene familiar to him ; and at the age of twenty-one, and in spite of the wishes of his family, he walked up to London from Derbyshire, and apprenticed himself to the engraver by whose work he had been so suddenly impressed. Although his assiduity led to no eminence in his adopted art, by his enterprise and generous dealing he was enabled to found and foster a great school of engraving in England, and rose himself to opulence and distinction. Then he desired to ac- complish for the painters' art what he had done for the engravers'. His great scheme of the Shakspeare Gallery arose in a conversation over the dinner-table, in November, 1786, when he entertained West, Romney, and Paul Sandby, with some other eminent men. Boydell expressed his desire, "old as he was, to wipe away the stigma that we had no genius for historical painting ; " and in the discussion which arose the name of Shakspeare was mentioned by Nicol, the well-known printer, who was one of the guests; and the idea of the Shakspeare Gallery, which then took a form, was so steadily pursued, that early in 1789 the gallery (later occupied by the British Institution in Pall Mall) was finished, several of the paintings were completed, and the whole undertaking far advanced. AM the first artists were invited to assist, and received liberal com- missions. The collected works were exhibited to the public in the gallery built for them ; and, as a part of the original scheme, were engraved and circulated throughout the country and on the Continent. They were of very mixed merit, but the magnitude of the scheme, and the renown by which it was attended, no doubt assisted to create a public appetite for pictorial art ; while it is equally certain that generally the weakness of drawing, the want of power in the artists to enter into the manners and habits of the time and the characters represented, would hardly be tolerated now, and justifies the neglect into which the greater part of the works have fallen. Need we tell the painful end of Boydell's great enterprise, undoubtedly begun with higher motives than the mere love of gain. In sixty years of active life he had accumulated a capital of 3Sp;Oo°^-) which he sunk to found a school of engraving and of historic painting. He had purposed to leave to the nation the gallery H 2 lOO A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. he had erected, and the works painted to illustrate his country's great dramatic poet ; but the disturbance of all his commercial relations with the Continent by the breaking out of the French Revolution, paralyzed his extensive trade, and at the age of eighty-five he sought of Parliament the power to sell by lottery his galleries, pictures, drawings, and stock, that " he might be able to pay all that he owed in the world," and he was taken from the world just as this last request had been granted. Benry Fuseli, E.A., was the promoter of a scheme like Boydell's. He was the most poetical, as also the most original of the group of painters on which we are now entering. Born at Zurich on the 7th of February, 1741, he was the second son of John Casper Fiiessli, himself a painter of portraits and landscapes — a man otherwise endowed with karning and talents, and the intimate associate of men of varied acquirements, whose names are still held in honour. The elder Fiiessli did not wish his son to be an artist, but intended him for the clerical profession. We are told that his dislike to his son's being a painter might partly have arisen from the boy's awkwardness, and want of rrianual dexterity, which was so great as to have resulted in a family saying : " Take care of that boy, for he destroys or spoils whatever he touches ; " a defect which in after life was seen in die great want of executive power apparent in his pictures. But Fuseli's love of art was not to be checked, and he followed secretly what it was denied him to work at openly. The hours of night, when the family were at rest, were devoted to his pursuit of art, and even thus early his efforts were marked with a tendency to the extravagant, either on the side of the burlesque or of the terrible. In order to prepare the lad for his future duties, he was put in charge of a tutor, who read aloud to him the works of those theologians which formed part of his course of study. But while the tutor read, the pupil drew, and the better to escape observation,' learnt to use his left hand, which was attended with this advantage, that he was enabled to use either hand freely during his after life. Removed to the country for the benefit of better air, he seems to have enjoyed with great zest the new scenes and new objects brought within his observation. But his father was not a man to change the determination he had made, and when he had reached a proper age, the future painter, returning to Zurich, entered the Caroline college in that city, and finally obtained the degree of Master of Arts. While at college, he had for fellow-students many very remarkable companions, among others the well-known Lavater, with whom he afterwards kept up a constant intercourse, and whose mind, innately sympathizing with the mysteries of spiritualism and demoniacal possession, must have had some influence on one, in many respects, so like-minded as Fuseh. While at college, Fuseli made himself acquainted with various modern languages, and among others PROGRESS OF HISTORIC ART. lOl perfected himself in English : learning to read and enjoy the works of Milton, Shakspeare, and the painter Richardson, in their native tongue. It is told of him that at college he was very satirical, and students at the Royal Academy during his keepership will remember that this satirical temper never left him. After passing the prescribed time at college, Fuseli fulfilled the wishes of his father, and in 1761, together with his friend Lavater, entered into holy orders, and he preached his first sermon before the literati of Zurich, from the query of the philoso- phers of Athens when Paul preached in the Areopagus :— " What will this babbler say ? " We are told that his discourses, though appreciated by the learned, were caviare to the multitude. He might, however, have continued in the duties of the holy office, and been lost to the world of art, had not his strong sense of justice united him with Lavater in exposing the land-bailiff, or ruHng magistrate of the canton, who had been guilty of peculation and injustice. For a time the two friends triumphantly succeeded, but in the end, the powerful family connexions of the magistrate made Zurich too hot for the young divine, and in 1763 he was advised, for a while at least, to quit the town. He spent some time in visiting various German cities, and at Berlin began his art career, but was eventually induced to visit England with a view of establishing a channel of literary communication between Germany, Switzedand, and our own country. He left Berlin for London in 1765, with the British Minister, Sir Andrew Mitchell, who introduced him here to several persons, among others, to Mr. Coutts, for whom he afterwards painted several pictures, and whose friendship he maintained through life. At first he was employed in literary labour — translating works from the French, German, and Italian ; occasionally varying this drudgery by designing book-illustrations for novels. At the end of 1766, an offer, too advantageous to be rejected, was made to Fuseli to travel as tutor to Viscount Chewton, son of the Earl of Waldegrave, an office for which his independent manner and irritable temper particularly dis- qualified him. We cannot therefore wonder that, having accepted it, he managed to quarrel with, and even to strike, his pupil, whom he left in France, " determining," as he said, " to be a bear-leader rio longer." On his return to England in 1767 he sought an introduction to Sir Joshua Reynolds, in order to obtain his advice in the prosecution of his plan of making the fine arts his future profession. The great portrait painter received Fuseli with his usual urbanity, and seemed much struck with the originality and style of the designs he exhibited to him. Reynolds further encouraged him on seeing his first work—'' Joseph Interpreting the Dreams of Pharaoh's Chief Butler and Chief Baker"— by saying that "he might, if he would, be a colourist 102 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. as well as a draughtsman." Looking at the quality of tone, and dispo- sition of colour in many of his works, there seems to have been some ground for the president's judgment : but Fuseli had had no proper education in art ; he was too impatient to go through the trials of pro- cesses and modes of execution, which Reynolds himself was continually making ; he was satiofied by feeling out what he wanted in colour and ■ effect by the easiest means that would give him present satisfaction ; and this resulted not only in his not attaining to the rank of a colourist, but in the early and total destruction of many of his pictures. His biographer, Knovvles, tells us that " until he was twenty-five years of age, he had never used oil-colours, and he was so inattentive to these materials that during his life he took no pains in their choice or mani- pulation. To set a palette, as artists usually do, was with him out of the question ; he used many of his colours in a dry powdered state, and rubbed them up with his pejicil only, sometimes in oil alone, which'.he used largely, at others with an addition of a little spirit of turpentine, and not unfrequently in gold size." How could such carelessness result in anything but premature decay ? Having determined at last to adopt painting as a profession, Fuseli, now nearly twenty-nine years of age, turned his thoughts towards Italy. He was at this time neither a draughtsman nor a painter, and had attained an age, when it is difficult to sit down to that dry elementary study, which is so necessary in order to obtain executive power. He arrived in Rome early in the spring of 1770, and shortly afterwards changed the spelling of his name from Fiiessli to Fuseli, to accommo- date it to the Italian pronunciation. While in Italy he seems to have made earnest study of the antique and the works of Michael Angelo. We do not hear that he drew much; we are told that he made no copies, and that while he sometimes attended in the school of the living model, he was averse to dissecting. Thus Fuseli never had the advantage of academic training ; and though he appears to have been absorbed in the works of Michael Angelo, he much needed that elementary training which had led Michael Angelo into the full power of expressing his noble thoughts. Grand in invention, revelling in the mystic and terrible, and with a wild energy of action that defies the charge of being theatrical, bordering as It does on the fearful ; having indeed a formed and marked style, he yet entirely fails to satisfy us. He has no refinement nor accuracy of draw- ing, many of his attitudes are impossible ; his females are somewhat more than masculine, they are absolutely coarse and at times disgusting ; while, as has already been said, his entire want of knowledge of the elementary laws of colouring and processes of painting, not only hin- dered him from developing his innate sense of colour, but from the PROGRESS OF HISTORIC ART. 103 imperfect methods he resorted to, have left us too often to contemplate fadin'^ crhosts and moribund canvases. The only thmg that can be said on the other side is, would not a sound elementary education have tamed down his originahty and poetic feeling, while giving him the language in which to express it ? , • , Fuseli remained in Italy until the autumn of 1778, having passed more than eight years in Rome and the other Italian cities. During his stay he had sent two pictures to the Royal Academy, but of his other labours we are less informed. If he was unable to profit by the purity and refinement of Raphael, of whom Fuseli himself said that " pro- priety rocked his cradle," he imbibed so much of the feeling arid power of Buonarotti, that we may boldly say no painter, before or since, has entered in the same degree into the spirit of that master. _ On his way back to this country, he made a stay of some months m his native city, painting various pictures, among others, "The Confederacy of the Founders of Helvetian Liberty," which he gave to the senate-house at Zurich, where it is still preserved. His father had at this time an opportunity of seeing the works of his painter son, and was able to estimate, and take delight in, the talents which were shortly to place him high in the rank of modern artists. On Fiiseli's arrival in London, he took a part of the house ot Cart- wric-ht, a painter, whom he had known in Rome, and who now resided in St Martin's Lane, and began to labour diligently on poetic subjects ; send- ing three pictures to the exhibition in 1780 ; and in 1782, a work called " The Nightmare," which by repetitions and engravings soon became very popular, and was engraved for and published by J. R. Smith, who allowed that he made a profit of 500/. by the speculation, Fuseli him- self having only received 20/. for the picture. . In 1786, Alderman Boydell's scheme for obtaining a series of pictures from the plays of Shakspeare, to be engraved for publication, was set on foot, and Fuseli was one of those whose assistance was considered of the first importance. He entered zealously into the project. He painted eight large, and one small picture for this series ; among them some of his finest works. _ • ^ 1, While these pictures were in hand, and Fuseli's pencil in full operation, he married Miss Rawlins of Bath Easton, and it is said that prudential motives, viz., the certainty in case of his death of a small provision for his widow, induced him to overcome his objections to such institutions, and to become a candidate for membership in the Royal Academy. Whether this was really the cause, or whether, as we believe, he had worthier and better motives, he put down his name and was elected an associate in the autumn of 1788, and in 1790, a full member ot the Royal Academy. On the occasion of his election a disagreement arose, I04 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. which resulted in the temporary resignation of the presidentship by Sir Joshua Reynolds, and had nearly ended in his final retirement. Shortly after, on the completion of the Boydell pictures, Fuseli was led to project a work of his own. When his scheme was matured it took the shape of a gallery of illustrations of Milton. He determined to paint a series of pictures from our great epic poet, and to exhibit them together for his own benefit. He had saved a little money from the completion of his engagements with Boydell, which gave him the means of proceeding some length with the task he undertook ; and when this was exhausted, six of his friends came forward liberally to assist him by advancing money for his support until the pictures he purposed to paint for his exhibition were completed ; besides which, one or two of them made him handsome donations in aid of his attempt. Forty pictures of the most lofty range as to subject, and some of them on canvases of the grandest scale, were opened to the public in the rooms in Pall Mall previously occupied by the Royal Academy. The exhibition, alas ! in the first season did not pay its expenses. Still hoping against hope, the persevering painter completed during the recess six additional works, and reopened in the spring of 1800 with forty-six pictures, the Academy leading off with a public dinner in the room, to endeavour to awaken attention to this great effort of genius. The painter tells us he "had much mouth-honour" on the occasion, but the public did not respond ; this season was as unproductive as the former one had been, and at the end of four months Fuseli closed the exhibi- tion, rather than carry it on at a less. It is sad to have to record the utter failure of a scheme that had so long occupied the mind and hand of a man of true genius ; but Fuseli's pictures were not of a nature to appeal to the eye, but to the mind of the public ; and mind is much wanted in common sight- seers. This Fuseli found when questioned by one of the visitors to his gallery who did not know him. " Pray, sir, what is that picture ? " " It is the bridging of Chaos; the subject from Milton." "No wonder," said the questioner, "I did not know it, for I never read Milton, but I will." "I advise you not," said FuseH ; "for you will find it a d— d tough job." Meanwhile, Fuseli had been elected professor of painting, for which his knowledge and classical attainments so well fitted him, and in 1801 he delivered his first course of lectures to the students of the Royal Academy. In 1804, on the death of Wilton, he was appointed to the keepership, and resigned the lectureship, which Opie, and, on his death, Tresham, was elected to fill : but Tresham in the end declined on the plea of indisposition, and Fuseli was re-elected, and held the keepership, with the ofifice of professor of painting, during the remainder of his life. For PROGRESS OF HISTORIC ART. 105 more than twenty years he filled these offices, with satisfaction to himself and credit to the institution. When we recollect the great men who were formed wholly or partly during his keepership, we may estimate the influence he had on those around him. Among these, Hilton, Wilkie, Etty, Mulready, Haydon, Leslie, Jackson, Ross, Landseer, and Eastlake, are sure evidence of the sound training obtained in the Royal Academy while Fuseli was the keeper. He continued to paint, if with less ardour than formerly, until the last days of his Hfe. Just before his final illness he had sent two pictures to the Academy for exhibition, one of them in an unfinished state, hoping to have time to glaze and tone it during the varnishingdays; and he was employed just previous to his death on a scene from King John, which was nearly completed when he died. He was seized with his last illness while on a visit at the house of the Countess of Guildford, at Putney, and he died there on the i6th of April, 1825. Fuseli certainly derived more from Michael Angelo than others of our British painters who have made the Sistine Chapel their study — more of the terrible and grand, more of that largeness of treatment and noble simplicity that lifts us out of and above common nature. His figures are never tame, indeed, they are too apt to err on the side of violent and overstrained action. Such actions, however, rarely offend us ; rarely give the feeling of being vulgar or theatrical, and .sometimes they are truly grand. With much that is noble and dignified in style, Fuseli adopted from the great Florentine much that is mere manner — much that is conventional and untrue. Such as forced muscularity both in his male and female figures, disproportionate extremities, limbs far beyond Nature's length, and dra- peries, that are no draperies, fitted tight to display the form. In some of his figures Michael Angelo bent the hand unnaturally at the wrist, with a strong action of the index finger. Fuseli adopted this, and used it so frequently, that it is one of the characteristics of his figures. Fuseli's figures too whether classic, Scandinavian, or mediaeval, are ever of the same race, — have the same individuality, and, from his seldom having recourse to Nature, the heads have a likeness and character in common. But then the painter is never commonplace ; he always carries us away with him into a poetic region of his own — a region apart from the everyday world we live in ; and if we cannot agree that it is the same that Shakspeare or Milton would picture to us, it is at least a dream-land in which we awaken to sublime thoughts and curious pleasures too often wanting in the works of those who are more literal or more faithful to their text. Fuseli was quite indifferent to propriety of costume, treating ages and countries far separated in the same draperies, classic and modern alike. Partly from the failure of his works — many of which have gone wholly to decay— and partly from their large size, which has confined them to io6 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. the walls they originally occupied, Fuseli is better known in the present day by engravings from his pictures, than by the pictures themselves. Turning over the pages of Coydell, he stands apart from all the other illustrators. His bold energetic style — the wildness and originaHty ot his inventions, were fitted to take great hold of the imagination of the young, and there is no doubt that he had great influence over the minds of the students of his day. They liked the man; and even the sharp bitter sarcasms with which he at times reproved them were forgotten as soon as uttered, since at heart he was kindly, and wished them well, and treated their wild pranks as the boisterous fun of boys, which it is better should find vent than be repressed. CHAPTER XI. THE SUCCESSORS OF REYNOLDS. The first successor to Reynolds in priority of date was Nathaniel Dance, R.A., who is best known in art by this name, though he after- wards became Sir Nathaniel Holland, Bart. He was the son of the city surveyor, and was born in London in 1734. He began the study of art under Frank Hayman, and sought to improve himself in Italy. Here he remained eight or nine years, and travelled with the fair paintress, Angelica Kauffman, with whom gossip said he was hopelessly in love. On his return to England he distinguished himself by his portraits and as a history-painter, exhibiting a " Death of Virginia " with the Society of Artists in 1761. Among his paintings may be mentioned " Garrick as Richard III.," "Timon of Athens," in the Royal Collection, "Captain Cook," at Greenwich Hospital, and at Up-Park, Sussex, fine full-lengths of George III. and his young Queen. Dance's portraits were carefully and solidly painted, well drawn, and passable in colour. Northcote says, " He drew the figure well, gave a strong likeness and certain studied air to all his portraits ; yet they were so stiff and forced that they seemed as if just out of a vice." His works, however, held a place in art which entitles them at least to brief mention. He was one of the original members of the Royal Academy, and resigned his diploma in 1790, on his marriage with a widow lady of large property. He afterwards took the name of Holland, was created a bai onet in 1800, and for many years represented the borough of East Grinstead in Parliament. He virtually quitted his profession when he left the Academy, but he afterwards exhibited some landscapes which showed great ability. fames Northcote, R.A., fills a much larger space in the history of art. He was the son of a watchmaker at Plymoutli, where he was born October 22, 1746, and though he showed an early attachment to art, was, by his prudent father, bound his apprentice and learnt his trade. During the long seven years of his apprenticeship he gave his spare time io8 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. to drawing, and, on their termination, devoted himself wholly to art. He began by portrait painting, and contrived so far to make his art known in Plymouth as to gain the notice of Dr. John Mudge, and, through him, an introduction to Sir Joshua Reynolds. This was, probably, the turning-point in his fortunes. He became the pupil of Reynolds, was admitted not only to his studio, but into his house, and was fortunate in gaining the friendship of the painter whom he reverenced. During a second apprenticeship of five years as the pupil of Reynolds, he had full opportunity of acquiring the technical knowledge he must have so greatly needed. He stood beside Reynolds before his easel ; he enjoyed free converse with him ; he saw'his works in all stages; he assisted in their progress, laying in draperies, painting backgrounds and accessories, and forwarding the numerous duplicates and copies required of such a master, and he shared the usual means of advancement and study enjoyed by Reynolds's pupils ; at the same time he did not neglect the essential study of the figure at the Royal Academy. In 1775 completed his engagement. He was in his twenty-ninth year, and thought the time had arrived when his pupilage should finish, and so did Reynolds. They parted with mutual regret, and Northcote returned to Devonshire, where, by portrait painting, he soon made a little purse, and resolved to visit Italy for his further improvement. In March, 1777, he set out alone, and, as he tells us, travelled from Lyons to Genoa, from Genoa to Rome, without speaking a word of the language. With his incentives to work, we cannot doubt that he made good use of his time. He spent three years in Italy, visiting the cities distinguished as the seats of art, but passing the greater part of the time at Rome. Following the teaching of Reynolds, he studied Michael Angelo, Raphael, and especially Titian. His powers were recognized by his election into the Academies of Florence, Cortona, and Rome, and with this prestige he returned homeward, studying the great Dutch and Flemish collections in his way, and arrived in London in May, 1780. Northcote's first resource on his return was portraiture. He visited his native county, where his reputation or his connexions attracted some sitters, and finally settled in London. In 1781 we find him at No. 2, Old Bond Street, and contributing two portraits of "Naval Officers" to the Royal Academy. In 1783, for the first time, he exhibited subject-pictures, homely and not of a very elevated class, such as " Beggars and Dancing Dogs," "Hobnelia, from Gay's Shepherd's Week," and "The Village Doctress," &c. They do not afford much promise. With some character, and in his females some beauty, there was an absence of grace and taste ; a pervading commonness, the drawing stiff, and the figures without a sense TH^ SUCCESSORS OF REYNOLDS. of motion. Meanwhile he had many sitters, and was making a little harvest in portraiture. Northcote was ambitious— his aim was, from the first, historic art ; but it seems at least doubtful whether he would have reached his ideal goal, had he not been opportunely favoured by fortune, for he was settling into a painter of domestic scenes, when Alderman Boydell broached his great scheme of the Shakspeare Gallery Here was the opportunity Northcote wanted. He engaged earnestly in the work, and finding a higher impulse with the higher aim, he was stimulated to excel. Taking them in the order of exhibition, his first truly historic work was in 1786. " King Edward V., and his Brother Richard, Duke of York, Murdered in the Tower by Order of Richard HI." (From Shakspeare's Richard III., act iv., scene 3.) In his picture the children are truly babes of six or seven years old ; the Duke of York having far more the appearance of a girl than of a boy. The painter had not yet got quite clear of pretty and domestic art, and the children seem rather the petted darlings of the day than the sad youths who had wept together, parted from mother and sister within a prison's walls. The painter seems to have learnt his error as to the age of the princes, for in the subsequent picture of" The Burial," the bodies that are being let down into the hole at the stair-foot are full ten years older than those who were slain. Judging from the engraving, there is far too strong an expression of hate in the armed ruffian, who is about to blot out the life of the princes, as though they were some personal enemies or disgusting reptiles, while no doubt he was only fulfilling his mission for mere gold or gain. The work, however, must have been successful in the eyes of his brother artists, since we find that in 1787 Northcote is entered in the Royal Academy catalogue as R.A. elect. He must, therefore, have been chosen an associate in November, 1786, and an academician in February, 1787. He justified the choice of the members by exhibiting his great work of the death of Wat Tyler. It is a picture of much merit, though, as is not unfrequent in his works, it is built on the composition of another. In this case, the motive has been one of the " Conversions of St. Paul " by Rubens, in which a rearing horse throwing his smitten rider is recalled to us by that of " Wat Tyler," while the horse of his assailant, also rearing, is like the horse of Rubens's standard-bearer. In the year that Northcote exhibited this picture Opie exhibited his large, and, in many respects, most important picture of " The Assassina- tion of David Rizzio." There are some curious coincidences relating to these works of the two painters. Northcote, as we have just said, had this year attained the full honours of the R.A., obtaining both steps within a year. The same had been the case with Opie, who steps at once from plain John Opie, of last year's catalogue, to John Opie, R.A., in this. no A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. The two pictures were painted, no doubt, in rivalry for these honours, exhibited in the same exhibition, and have found a final resting-place together. They both belong to the same great Corporation, and hang in the same room of their Guildhall in London. In the following years he only occasionally exhibited at the Royal Academy, and mostly portraits. He was diligently at work for Boydell's Gallery, for which he painted in all nine pictures : " Meeting of the Young Princes " {Richard III., act iii., scene i), then " Romeo and Juliet," " The Death of Mortimer," " The Burial of the Princes in the Tower, ' &c. The faults of Northcote in these pictures are equally the faults of the other artists of his day. The first thing that strikes us is the want of proper consideration of his subject. We are told by one of his con- temporaries, that of studies prior to commencing his pictures he made few or none — that the scheme of his work was little considered ere he began on his canvas. This he may have learnt from Reynolds, whose habit, we know from many incidents, it also was. Hence in some works, figures have no ground plane on which they can stand ; in others the space is empty, or unmeaning figures have been added unnecessarily to fill up the canvas. Character he studied but little, and seems to have given as lit de attention to obtaining suitable models for his work, the same head doing service on many figures in the same picture ; nor does the work ever carry us back into the period it represents. The light and shade is generally extremely conventional and often untrue. To show that he could paint flesh, he gives us too many bare arms and legs in his costume pictures; thus one of the figures lowering the young princes into their untimely grave, has his head, body, and upper limbs in full armour, while his legs are bare and his feet completely naked. This want of due consideration before commencing the work, also causes much of the wretched executive of the pictures of the time. Instead of that careful preparation of the ground— that washing and minute grind- ing of each separate pigment under the eye of the master — that attention to dead colouring, with a view to second colouring and glazing, to the purity and fitness of the vehicle, and its complete admixture with the whole of the pigments of the palette, which was not only a tradition of the studios of the old masters, but a faith handed down from each to his successors, resulting in a practice which gave even bad pictures of their schools a preciousness of workmanship and translucent beauty. The artists after Reynolds were like flies in a honey-pot, entangled with viscid and sticky paint, plastering it on to the canvas to endeavour to reach at once what was before them ; some portions of the pigment as it came from the bladder, some fluent with an overdose of magylph or asphaltum ; losing their ground, and careless of renewing it, painting in TH^ SUCCESSORS OF REYNOLDS. MI and painting out with the most perfect indifference, the result being that such pictures have perished almost in the painting, and are now sad wrecks indeed — or if otherwise have none of the qualities described above, which are to be found even in the poorest pictures of a past age. Frequent instances of the faulty indifference to processes of painting have been given in our work, and we feel that they cannot be too often repeated if the works of our day are to remain to show posterity the talent of their predecessors, instead of needing an apology almost before leaving the easel. It is curious, in looking over the series of pictures painted at this period and published by Boydell, to note, not the inaccuracies, so much as the glaring inconsistencies of costume which pervade them all. As the landscape painters of those days enjoyed a painter's tree, that flourished in all landscapes and for all foliage, so the figure painters seem to have had a costume equally applicable to all persons, all periods, and all countries ; the nobles of Bohemia being dressed in trunk- hose, and armed like the men of Britain with the patched armour of the kingdom and the commonwealth. Another peculiarity is that in the hands of some of the Shakspeare illustrators, the armour fits like the most pliant leather, and bends where there are no joints, to suit the artist's drawing ; while in others, as in Opie's " Winter's Tale," it is so extra rigid that the figure looks as if motion were impossible. In some of the pictures it is evident that the painter could never have read the passage he has illustrated. We must recollect, however, that paintings, up to this time, abounded in anachronisms, and that Rubens, in some sense the father of our school, was guilty of equally flagrant absurdities. Nor had there been any attention given at the theatre to proprieties of scenery or costume, while works of reference or authority on such matters were rare, and the opportunity of consulting them very limited. After all, there may be question how far the effort after exact costume is to be carried, since it may be made to cramp and confine the genius of the artist, and lead him to sacrifice the highest qualities of his art, to become a mere " property man." No doubt it greatly depends on the nature of the subject, and the implied intention of the work. When Reynolds paints three ladies in a semi-exact costume of his own time as the " Graces sacrificing to Hymen," and weaving wreaths of roses round a classic term, we accept it with pleasure, as we do the royal shepherds and shepherdesses in Watteau's Pastorals, as a pleasing masque or fancy tableau ; but we can far less tolerate history dressed in the false millinery of Peters or Tresham. Again, in the noble idylls of Michael Angelo, we are satisfied with portions of dress that fit as though they were the skin without folds, and serve to remove the sense of nudity in ideal beings. But the same 112 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. treatment is more questionable in Fuseli or Westall, when dealing with the nearer realities of Macbeth or Hotspur. But to return to Northcote, his pencil in these days was tolerably- prolific ; while engaged on the Boydell pictures he found time to attempt another series, in which the artist was to invent the story as well as to paint it. The subjects are of a lower class than those we have described, but in addition to his pecuniary interest he intended them to aid the cause of morality. He painted ten pictures to contrast the progress of the diligent and the dissipated, by the example, as he describes, " of two female servants who are supposed to live in the house of a young un- married man of fortune. One acts uniformly from motives of prudence, delicacy, and virtue ; the other is careless, dissipated, and inclined to immoral gratifications." Northcote was successful as a painter of animals, and introduced them skilfully into his pictures, though they are rather too melo- dramatic ; this fault is apparent in his "Angel opposing Balaam," painted for MackHn's Bible. Of this picture, Fuseli said, bearing testimony to the delineation of the animal : — " Northcote, you are an angel at an ass ; but an ass at an angel ; " and truly his angel is a fine broad-shouldered corporeal reality. Admitted at the commencement of his career to the home and intimacy of Reynolds, Northcote became at its latter end the depository of the art-lore of nearly two generations ; and, without any pretensions to authorship on the score of education, a writer on art. But like his great master, his writings have been so largely attributed to the assistance of others, that their true merits have, we think unjustly, been denied to him. He was unquestionably a man of marked natural abilities — observant in all that related to his art — reflective by habit — and com- petent to express his ideas clearlj', whether orally or with his pen. With some other papers of less importance, he also contributed The History of a Slighted Beauty, under which name he allcgorically describes the birth of the fine arts, their progress through Europe, and arrival in this country ; an ingenious conceit very well and amusingly written, and extending into three numbers of The Artist. In 1813, Northcote published his Life of Sir Joshua Reynolds. He says in his preface, " It is my fixed opinion that if ever there should appear in the world a memoir of an artist well given, it will be the production of an artist ; " a remark which to a great extent is borne out by his own work, for its merits are precisely those which his professional knowledge of art has given to it. His Fables (original and selected) were partly written by himself, his own being distinguished by his initials, which, we believe, are confined to the prose fables. Though without claim to much originality, they are tersely and well written. THE SUCCESSORS OF REYNOLDS. 113 It was Northcote's habit to take an early walk, then to breakfast, and afterwards to enter his studio. He was distinguished for his conversational powers ; and it was his practice to admit his visitors to his painting-room, so that about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, unless he had a sitter, a sort of levee commenced, and it seldom happened that he remained long alone — he talked over his work till his dinner-hour, freely discussing any subject which arose with great sagacity, acuteness, and information, always maintaining his opinions. We learn from all accounts of him that Northcote had the character of independent self-assertion, and that he did not abstain from cynical remarks. He says of himself, "I am sometimes thought cold and cynical." We add a personal description of Northcote, who is thus painted by Leslie, R.A., in 182 1 : — " It is the etiquette for a newly-elected member to call immediately on all the academicians, and I did not omit paying my respects to Northcote among the rest, although I knew he was not on good terms with the Academy. I was shown upstairs into a large front room, filled with pictures, many of the larger ones resting against each other, and all of them dim with dust. I had not waited long when a door opened, which communicated with his painting-room, and the old gentleman appeared, but did not advance beyond it. His diminutive figure was enveloped in a chintz dressing-gown, below which his trousers, which looked as if made for a much taller man, hung in loose folds over an immense pair of shoes, into which his legs seemed to have shrunk down. His head was covered with a blue silk nightcap, and from under that and his projecting brows, his sharp black eyes peered at me with a whimsical expression of inquiry. There he stood, with his palette and brushes in one hand, and a mahl-stick twice as long as himself in the other ; his attitude and look saying, for he did not speak, ' What do you want ? "' From what is known of the character of Northcote we are far from deeming him the heartless cynic which he has been represented. He was benevolent to those who applied to him for assistance, and courteous to the young artist who sought his advice. He was temperate and just, and his prudence enabled him to secure independence. Northcote never married. His long life was entirely devoted to the enthusiastic pursuit of his profession, and was quietly terminated the 13th July, 1831, in his eighty-sixth year. James Opie, R.A. (never Oppy, as has been said), was in his art- relations the twin brother of Northcote, occupying the same place both in portrait and history. He was born at St. Agnes, near Truro, in May, 1761 ; the son and grandson of the village carpenter, respectable men, who intended that he should succeed to the family trade, but his genius led him in another course. He was early remarkable for the strength of " I 114 A CENTUR V OF PAINTERS. his understanding and the readiness with which he acquired all that the village school could offer. At ten years of age he was not only able to solve many difficult problems of Euclid, but was thought capable of instructing others ; and at twelve he set up an evening-school, where he taught scholars of twice his own age. He early showed an attachment to drawing, and gave evidences of his inclination, which his mother secretly encouraged. His father checked such attempts, since they led him aside from the trade he had chosen for him ; but gradually the boy's strong inclination prevailed, and he was left to practise openly the pursuit he had secretly followed. He had already made sufficient progress to get some country employment in portrait painting, and had been com- missioned by Lord Bateman to paint some rustic subjects, when he fell under the notice of Dr. Wolcot, known as Peter Pindar, who was then trying to establish himself in practice at Truro. The painter and the doctor later on entered into a sort of partnership, though we find that Opie did not come to London until 1780, and that he dissolved the unsatisfactory connection within a year. Wolcot's trumpet though must have been blown to announce his expected arrival, and had evidently made an impression on the painters, whatever it did on the pubhc. Northcote was absent in Italy when Opie arrived in London; he returned in May, 1780, and, as Leslie relates, called on Reynolds immediately, who said to him, " Ah, my dear sir, you may go back; there is a wondrous Cornishman who is carrying all before him." "What is he like?" said Northcote, eagerly. "Like? why like Caravaggio and Velasquez in one," Poor Northcote was alarmed at the prospect of such a rival ; but he thought it best to strike up a friendship with him at once, and friends they were, said Leslie, as long as Opie lived : such great friends, apparently, that Lonsdale, the painter, feared to announce Opie's death to Northcote, lest the shock should be too much for him. When he did tell him, however, Northcote said, " Well, well, it's a very sad event ; but I must confess it takes a great stumbHng- block out of my way, for I never could succeed where Opie did." Notwithstanding this little touch of worldliness, and the fashion to represent the rivalry of the two men as extreme, we do not believe that it was any bar to their friendship, or exceeded that natural feeling which would exist between those advancing by the same path, where each must strive to be first. We do not find the least trace of bitterness in Amelia Opie's letters, where, if any existed, it would surely have found expres- sion ; but we see, on the contrary, that Northcote, of whom she speaks " as this queer little being " and " the little man," was evidently on terms of famihar intimacy with her and her husband. If any such feelings had a momentary expression, as might be assumed from Northcote's words, it was surely not deep-seated. THE SUCCESSORS OF REYNOLDS. Soon after Opie's arrival in London, he married his first wife, who was reputed to have possessed some property, but about whom little is known. _ The union was not a happy one, and was dissolved by the lady's misconduct in 1795. His second wife tells us that "passing St. Giles's Church in company with a gentleman of avowedly sceptical opinions, Mr.^ Opie said, 'I was married in that church' (alluding to his first marriage) ; 'And I,' replied his companion, 'was christened there.' ' Indeed,' answered Opie. ' It seems they do not do their work well there, for it does not hold.' " Opie had for a time sufiicient employment as a portrait painter, varied occasionally by single figures— pictures midway between subjects and portraiture. The first time his name appears as an exhibitor at the Royal Academy is in 1782; his contributions being "An Old Man's Head," and " An Old Woman." In 1783 he exhibited two fancy subjects, to- gether with three portraits. In 1786 he sent seven pictures to the Royal Academy, one of them "James I. of Scotland Assassinated by Graham at the Instigation of his Uncle, the Duke of Athol," together with "A Sleeping Nymph," " Cupid Stealing a Kiss," and five portraits. These were followed in 1787 by " The Assassination of David Rizzio," which won the painter his election, not only as an associate, but in the follow- ing spring as a full member of the Royal Academy, as we have related in our account of Northcote, This shows a rapid advance in the short space of five years, for one whose education in art must have been carried on apart from the com- panionship of artists, and with the very limited opportunities that so distant a county as Cornwall could in that age supply. It is true that .h;s methods are rude, and his execution the most common and un- satisfactory possible ; but the feehng of vigour and power they display makes us overlook many of their defects, and we tolerate his works when not brought under too close inspection ; but when weighed as to their real merits and defects, they are at times sadly wanting in many quaHties. " The Murder of Rizzio " is an example of Opie's coarse and slovenly execution ; it is in a sad state of dilapidation from the painter's want of knowledge, or his carelessness and indifference to means and method ; but it may be referred to as a proof of Opie's power in the real qualities of art. It is a vigorous work, and shows how little he was disposed to shirk difficulties in his practice. The composition is rudely energetic, the figures in violent action. Rizzio, the principal figure, falling back- wards out of the picture, smitten down by the sword of the ruthless Ruthven, is a strong example of a difficulty overcome, and so is the queen, rushing forward to interpose herself between the assassin and his victim, but restrained by the fierce grasp of Douglas : a group which perhaps suggested Fuseli's " Hamlet Held Back by Horatio from Follow- I 2 ii6 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. ing his Father's Ghost." The light and dark of the picture is too pro- nounced, probably from the failure of the darks, which have become black, and this shows as a great defect, bringing Hnes into prominence which no doubt were more subdued when the picture left the painter's studio. Shee, writing in 1789, thus describes our painter: — "I have been introduced to Mr. Opie, who is in manners and appearance as great a clown and as stupid a looking fellow as ever I set my eyes on. Nothing but incontrovertible proof of the fact would force me to think him capable of anything above the sphere of a journeyman carperiter, so little, in this instance, has Nature proportioned exterior grace to inward worth. I intend calling upon him occasionally ; for I know him to be a good painter, and though appearances are so much against him, he is, I •am told, a most sensible and learned man." This description, however, though no doubt Shee's honest impression of the man, differs totally from Opie's fine portrait painted by himself, now in the Royal Academy, in which there is a look of self-deperidence, of decision and intellect curiously agreeing with the square vigorous handling of the work, and far removed from clownish stupidity, or even from the inspiration of a mere peasant. Indeed, however obtained, his knowledge seems to have greatly impressed literary men well qualified to judge. Home Tooke, who sat to Opie, said of him, "Mr. Opie crowds more wisdom into a few words than almost any man I ever knew, he speaks as it were in axioms, and what he observes is worthy to be remembered and Sir James Macintosh remarked, that " had Mr. Opie turned his mind to the study of philosophy, he would have been one of the first philosophers of the age," adding, "had he written on the sub- ject, he would have thrown more light on the philosophy of his art, than any man hving." Soon after Opie's election to the Academy, he was engaged by Boydell to take part in his great series of Shakspeare Illustrations, for which he painted five pictures. There is a marked advance as Opie progresses in these works ; the first is an inferior picture to the " Rizzio," the com- position is scattered and ill-arranged, the story not well told, the figures want individual character, and do not seem as if painted from the life. The draperies not only have no character of antiquity and are wholly incorrect, but they are arranged and thrown without taste, and look as if hung on a peg or a lay figure, but each succeeding picture is an improve- ment. They impress us with a sense of rude power and genius, and contrast finely with the feeble inanities of many of his contemporaries engaged on the same series. When Boydell's work was ended, Opie had to recur to portraiture as his chief means of support, occasionally painting and exhibiting subject THE SUCCESSORS OF REYNOLDS. 117 pictures. His sitters introduced him into society at Norwich, and on the occasion of an evening party he saw for the first time Miss Alderson, the daughter of a physician in that city, who afterwards became the second Mrs. Opie. Their meeting has been described by Miss Bright- well, her biographer, who tells us that Opie, being at a party where Miss Alderson was expected as one of the guests, she did not make her appearance until a late hour. At length the door was flung open, and the lady entered in a garb far different to that she assumed later in life. " She was dressed in a robe of blue, her neck and arms bare, and on her head a small bonnet, placed in a somewhat coquettish style, sideways, and surmounted by a plume of three white feathers. Her beautiful hair hung in rich waving tresses over her shoulders ; her face kindling with pleasure at the sight of her old friends ; and her whole appearance animated and glowing." Opie was at the time in conversation with the host who had been anxiously expecting her ; and suddenly interrupted it by the exclamation, " Who is that ? who is she ? " and hastily rising, pressed forward to be introduced. He was evidently smitten, charmed — as was characteristic of his impulsive nature — at the first sight. Mrs. Opie said of this meeting :— " Almost from my first arrival, Mr. Opie became my avowed lover." She vowed that his chances of success were but one in a thousand ; but he persevered. He knew his own mind, and persuaded her at length, during a stay in London, that he had read her heart. So she went home again to Norwich, to think of the future, and to prepare for it. They were married in 1798, and his wife said that " he found it necessary to make himself popular as a portrait painter, and that in the productive and difficult branch of female portraiture." For this we should have thought his art, from its rude strength, particularly unfitted him ; yet on examining the catalogues, we find that nearly half of his sitters were ladies. We find from his wafe's memoirs of him that the first years of their married life were not without anxieties. She says that his " picture in the Exhibition of 1801 was universally admired, and was purchased ; yet he saw himself at the end of that year and the beginning of the next, almost wholly without employment." .... "Gloomy and painful indeed," she adds, "were those three alarming months; and I consider them as the severest trial that I experienced during my married life." And she bears this affectionate testimony to his perseverance : — His love of his profession was intense, and his unremitting industry in the pursuit of it, drew from Mr. Northcote the observation, * that while other artists painted to live, he hved to paint' " 'in 1806 — we quote her words with pleasure — she notes, "that prosperity had reached them, and that Mr. Opie was rewarded for his perseverance and disappoint- ments by success and fame." But he was stimulated to too high efforts, Ii8 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. and we find from his letters, that " he laboured so intently the latter end of 1806, and the beginning of 1807, that he allowed his mind no rest, hardly indulging in the relaxation of a walk." A disease of the spinal marrow, affecting the brain, had commenced. He strove hard to finish his works for the Academy Exhibition ; but delirium ensued, and in this state, the mind wandering upon his art, he gradually sank, and died 9th of April, 1807, in his forty-seventh year. He was buried with some pomp in St. Paul's. In his last hours he was anxious to finish a picture for the Royal Academy, which was nearly ready, and his pupil Thomson, who after- wards became a member and the keeper of the Royal Academy, volunteered to work on it for Opie. Delirium had set in, but when the picture, in one of his lucid intervals, was brought for him to see, he was clear enough on the subject of art to say, " I think there is not colour enough in the background." Thomson was struck with the justice of the remark, and having added more colour, again brought it into the room. "It will do now," said the dying painter with a smile ; "take it away; indeed, if you can't do it, nobody can." "And his countenance," says his wife, who relates the anecdote, " gave us the consolation of knowing that his feelings were comfortable ones, and that he was con- scious of neither our misery nor of his own situation." Reynolds, as we have seen, said Opie's art was like Caravaggio's and Velasquez's. Dayes, no mean critic, thought it approximated to Rem- brandt. All these three artists are distinguished by their power and breadth, qualities which Opie possessed. His colour, however, was deficient in purity ; his lights are often heavy and cold ; his execution was broad and spirited, but very coarse ; his conception of his subject real and vigorous, full of action, but showing those defects which the neglect of early training render inevitable. He had, however, great claims to merit as a portrait painter. Opie also made himself known as a writer. His first work was the Life of /Reynolds for Dr. Wolcot's edition of Pilkington. He next printed A Leiter on the Cultivation of the Fine Arts in England, in which he recommended the formation of a National Gallery. He delivered four lectures on art at the Royal Institution ; and on his election as Professor of Painting at the Royal Academy, in 1805, he delivered four lectures : on " Design," " Invention," " Chiaroscuro," and " Colour." These four lectures were pubhshed after his death, with a memoir by his widow, Avho enjoyed a high literary reputation. Sir William Beechey, R.A., Knt., is the last painter of the time who merits notice in this chapter. He has not found a biographer ; not even a memoir of him, that we are aware of, appears in print, and we are surprised to find that the recollections of an artist, who filled some space THE SUCCESSORS OF REYNOLDS. in his time, have so speedily passed away, leaving no trace behind. Dayes, who was an early contemporary of Beechey, tells of him, in his account of the painters who then flourished, that he was originally a house-painter and for many years struggled with fortune. In a brief notice of him, which, at the time of his death, appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine, no mention is made of this, but he is stated to have been born at Burford, in Oxfordshire, December 12, 1753, and to have been articled to a conveyancer at Stow in Gloucestershire, but that being tired of the monotony of a provincial lawyer's office, he came to London and con- tinued under his articles with a Mr. Owen of Tooke's Court. This is certainly explicit enough, but the two accounts are hardly consistent with each other. In London, Beechey became acquainted with some students of the Royal Academy ; delighted by their pursuits and enamoured with art, he prevailed upon his master to release him from the law, and in 1772 he gained admission to the schools of the Academy, and thenceforth devoted himself to his new profession. He began the practice of art as a portrait painter and met with some encouragement in London; and then, in 1781, an opening at Norwich induced him to try his fortune in that city, where he painted some conversation pieces of the character introduced by Hogarth, and tried his hand on one or two subject pictures. At the end of four or five years he returned and settled in the metropolis, where he soon gained practice and celebrity. Dawe, in his Life of George Morland (i^o^), tells how Beechey was introduced to the notice of George III. The portrait of a nobleman, painted by him, being returned by the Hanging Com- mittee of the Royal Academy, so incensed the peer, that he had the picture sent for to Buckingham Palace to be inspected by the King and the royal family, who all, in consequence, became sitters to the painter. This was the beginning of his fortunes. In 1793 he painted a whole- length portrait of the Queen, who appointed him her portrait painter, and the same year he was elected an associate of the Royal Academy. Increased commissions followed the royal patronage. Dawe says, " Beechey may justly be considered the only original portrait painter we have, all the rest being more or less the imitators of Sir Joshua." But we do not think that the large portrait group which he completed in 1798 would ever have been painted had not Reynolds preceded him. This equestrian group of George III., with the Prince of Wales and the Duke of York, reviewing the loth Hussars and the 3rd Dragoons, is now at Hampton Court (No. 166). Although a clever and somewhat showy group of portraits, it has little of real nature, but is full of painter's artifices. It attracted, however, much attention at the time, and the same year (1798) Beechey was knighted and gained his election as a member of the Royal Academy. I20 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. Beechey had obtained his introduction to the Court by accident, and so it happened to his pupil, Sharpe — known afterwards, from a picture he had painted, as " Bees-wing Sharpe." Sharpe was so pertinacious in his request to be present at a sitting of royalty that at last Beechey consented, on the express stipulation that he should be quite silent, keep out of the way, and merely set, and from time to time hand him, a fresh palette. Under these conditions, he accompanied Sir William to the palace. They had hardly reached the apartment where the sitting was to take place when the door was thrown open and the astonished pupil heard the cry of Sharp ! — simply a warning to be on the qui vive for royalty. Nervously impulsive, he thought that he was called, and rushed forward, to hear fiom the domestics in the suite of rooms he traversed the same cry of " Sharp ! Sharp ! " This only increased his confusion, until, at length, in passing through one of the doors, he ran right into the arms of some one. "Hallo ! hallo ! what's this, what's this? Who are you?" were uttered in quick succession, "Who are you ? " " Sharpe, your Majesty," said the young painter, who, though dreadfully alarmed, saw at once that it was the King. "Sharpe, Sharpe," said the King ; " what, son of the hautboy player of Norwich ? " Now it so happened that the King had hit upon the right person, and when the youth acknowledged that Sharpe of Norwich was his father, the King at once was gracious. "Well, Sharpe," said he, "you had almost knocked royalty down, but it is well it is no worse. What brought you here?" Sharpe explained that he was Sir William's pupil, had come to aid him in the sitting, &c. The story amused the King as much as it annoyed Beechey, and the accident led to a commission to Sharpe to paint the Princess Amelia and others of the royal family. Sharpe is said to have lost favour as oddly as he gained it. He became a great favourite with the pages, and one day exercised his skill in painting a pair of scissors hanging on a nail in their room. The King, on some occasion, coming into the pages' apartments, attempted to take the scissors off the nail, at which there was the faintest of titters, and, offended at the deception which had taken him in as well as others, he inquired who was the dehnquent, and Sharpe, being pointed out, fell as rapidly as he had risen in royal favour. Unlike his contemporaries, Beechey was not led aside by attempts at history painting. If he has left little for posterity, he was fortunate in his own day. He painted for the King the full-length portraits of all the royal family, and for the Prince of Wales the portraits of the princesses, his sisters. For the Queen, an exceptional work, he painted the entire decorations of a room in the royal lodge at Frogmore. The chief persons of fashion and distinction in his day were his sitters. His colouring was pleasing. He excelled in his females and children; but THE SUCCESSORS OF REYNOLDS. 121 his males wanted power. His portraits generally were deficient in grace, his draperies poor and ill-cast, and he showed no ability to overcome the graceless stiffness which then prevailed in dress. Yet he possessed much merit, and his portraits have maintained a respectable second rank. He enjoyed a long career in portrait art, but Lawrence and others had for many years succeeded to the monopoly of fashion and reputation before Beechey finally retired. He sold his pictures, studies, engravings, and materials by auction in 1836, and removed to Hampstead, where he died 28th January, 1839, at the age of eighty-six. The gossip of art has left little to tell of Beechey, bat we learn he was of the old school, who did not abstain from the thoughtless use of un- meaning oaths. Calling on Constable, the landscape painter, he ad- dressed him, " Why, d — n it, Constable, what a d — d fine picture you are making ; but you look d — d ill, and have got a d— d bad cold." It is said that in his latter years he complained of the increasing sobriety and decreasing conviviality of both artists and patrons of art. At one of the annual dinners of the Academy he remarked that it was confoundedly slow to what was the wont in his younger days, when the company did not separate until a duke and a painter were both put under the table from the effects of the bottle. CHAPTER XII. THE ANIMAL PAINTERS OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. Our countrymen have ever been lovers of the chase and of the race- course, and, such being the case, it is natural that after the portraits of the squire and his dame, and the goodly array of sons and daughters who served to uphold the family name, the portraits of their most famous hunters and racers would be objects of desire to our country gentlemen. Hence it is that while in the dining-room and staircase gallery of the country mansions of our old landed proprietors we are often introduced to their interminable ancestry, be-wigged and be- powdered, or to the toasts and beauties that fired them to feats of noble horsemanship, the hall itself is surrounded with portraits of the animals that carried them in the field, or filled or emptied their pockets on the racecourse, each horse led, as it might be, by the favourite groom or the successful jockey of the day. The love for this art at the time we are describing was gratified by John Wootton, an animal and landscape painter of merit, who was a pupil of John Wyck the younger, and imbibed the traditions of the Flemish school of painters. He furnished the halls and galleries of our old family mansions with views of the estate, and portraits of the class we have described, of the favourite horses and dogs. Frequenting Newmarket, he made himself known as an animal painter. He drew with great spirit. He painted hunting-pieces, which were much esteemed, and were engraved, and he received as much as forty guineas for the portrait of a single horse. Later, he applied himself to landscape, imitating, but at a long distance, the manner of Claude and then of Poussin. Looking at him, however, only as a horse painter, we are inclined to think better of him. His works may be seen in the royal collection, and at Blenheim, Longleat, Althorp, Ditchley, and other mansions, but their merits are obscured by the blackness which has come over them. ANIMAL PAINTERS OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTUR Y. 1 23 It cannot be said that patronage of the kind alluded to did, or was hkely to do, much for art, but Wootton made some property by it and built himself a house in Cavendish Square, which he decorated with his paintings, and here he died in January, 1765, During Wootton's ca.reer, /ames Seymour was also celebrated as a horse painter. He was born in 1702, the son of a banker, who was the friend of Lely, and fond of art. Possessing great power of drawing, he drew the horse with the pen with much spirit and character : but he was too idle to study ; and his attempt to give more finish to his work, and his bad style of colour, showed his defects. It is told that the Duke of Somerset employed him to paint his stud at his seat in Sussex; and that having admitted the artist to his table, he drank to him as "cousin Seymour;" and took offence when the artist expressed his belief that he really was of the same race. The " proud Duke " left the table, and ordered his steward to pay and dismiss his quondam cousin, but finding afterwards the impossibility of getting an artist to complete the work, he sent again for Seymour, who retorted, " My lord, I will now prove that I am of your grace's family, for I won't come." It is probable that Seymour's finished works are few, for we find little mention of them. He died in 1752. He is best known by his drawings; we are unable now to point to a painting by him. George Stubbs, A.R.A., who succeeded Wootton as an animal painter, was born in 1724, at Liverpool, where his father practised as a surgeon. It is probable that his attention was thus especially directed to anatomy, and that he continued the study of it after he had finally elected the profession of painting. Little is known of his early life, or even whether his original bent was to the arts ; but we learn that when about thirty years of age he paid a visit to Italy, extending his journey as far as Rome, and that on his return he settled in London, and soon became known for his talents both as a painter and an anatomist. In 1776 he pub- lished The Anatomy of the Horse, with eighteen plates drawn from nature, and engraved by his own hands. In the title-page he styles himself " painter." Stubbs soon became the fashionable horse painter of the day, and was patronized by all who delighted in the art ; but his anatomical knowledge fitted him for something better than the mere lay-figure treatment of the animal which satisfied the friends of his equine sitters. He aspired to be ranked as an artist, and to treat the horse as a heroic animal, instead of the tame prosaic steed that was led forth from the stable to show its points and breeding by its mere bony and muscular development, rather than by expression and energy of action and motion. He aimed to show his skill in designing this noble animal in its w^onderful variety of form ; in motion, and under the influence of artistic 124 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. foreshortenings, as well as grouped in combination with others of the higher animals of the chase. Barry, who seems to have attentively watched his progress, praises his works warmly ; he says, " His ' Lion Killing a Horse ; ' a ' Tiger Lying in his Den,' as large as life, appearing as it were disturbed, and listening, which were in the last year's exhibi- tion, are pictures that must rouse and agitate the most inattentive ; he is now painting a lion, panting and out of breath, lying with his paws over a stag he has run down : it is inimitable." In 1780 the Royal Academy acknowledged Stubbs's talents by electing him an associate of the body, and in the following year a full member. But on his election, like Wright of Derby, he declined to present one of his own works to the Academy, and the diploma was withheld, Stubbs choosing rather to remain an associate, in which rank he continued during the remainder of his life. It has been said that the painter's fortune was greater than his merit, in that his works were engraved by such eminent artists as WooUett, Earlom, and Green, and there is no doubt that the celebrity of Woollett's graver would have given reputa- tion to works of far less excellence than those of Stubbs. But these very engravings are a testimony to the painter's popularity, and it is doubtful, even in our own day, if the taste of the general public is not satisfied with subjects of far less merit as works of art, than the four well-known "sporting pictures" engraved by Woollett : or "The Horse Frightened at a Lion," " The Farmer's Wife and the Raven," or *' The Tigers at Play." Stubbs's name, however, is more frequently associated with his picure of " The Fall of Phaeton," which he is said to have repeated four times. As lately seen, it hardly sustains its reputation ; although the horses are well and spiritedly designed, the whole is scattered and disjointed in effect, and wanting in the ideal treatment which such a subject requires. Stubbs was ardent in the pursuit of his art, an indefatigable dissector, fearing none of the attendant dangers. It is told of him that he was of great muscular strength, in so much that on one occasion he carried a dead horse on his back up a narrow staircase to his dissecting-room, a feat which, unless the animal was of the smallest of the equine race, does not admit of our belief. For the latter part of his life he was very abstemious in his food, and a strict water-drinker. Yet he Uved to enjoy eighty-two years of vigorous life, dying on the loth of July, 1806. On the whole, the art made a great advance under Stubbs. Sawrey Gilpm, R.A., was another artist of the eighteenth century, who earned distinction as an animal painter. He was born at Carlisle, in 1733, of an old Cumberland family, and when fourteen was sent to London, where it was intended he should be brought up to some business. But his desire to pursue art led to his being placed with A NIMA L PA INTERS. OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTUR V. 125 Samuel Scott, the marine painter. His affections turned to cattle rather than to ships, and he soon attained much power as a draughtsman. At Newmarket he gained the favour of the Duke of Cumberland, then ranger of Windsor Park, who gave him apartments, and many facilities for his improvement. He excelled greatly in his portraits of horses, and was fully employed. He painted wild animals with equal success, and tiied some subjects in history; among them of course the "Story of Phaeton." He exhibited at Spring Gardens, in 1770, a sketch in oil of " Darius Obtaining the Persian Empire by the Neighing of his Horse and in the following year, " Gulliver Taking Leave of the Houyhnhnms," both of them woiks which attracted much notice. He painted both in oil and water colour; all his works were marked by great spirit, but his colourmg was poor, and his pictures failed from the absence of higher technical qualities. He was elected A.R.A., 1795, R.A., 1797. He died in 1807. The Rev. W, Gilpin, who wrote several works on picturesque beauty, was his brother. In treating of the animal painters, it will be desirable next in order to class George Morland. Although his art was of such a mixed character that it comprised both landscapes, rustic figures, and animals, still it is as an animal painter — as a painter of pigs and sheep and asses — that he is principally known. These, in combination with rustic figures, formed the subject of his pictures, while the landscape part of his art was never much more than a background for them. George Morland was born in 1763, just at the time when the artists of this country awoke to a sense of their own strength, and found a new aid to progress in the establishment of public exhibitions of their works. Henry Morland, the father of George, was himself a crayon draughtsman, painter, and engraver, and a man of some reputation in his day. He was already advanced in life, being fifty-one years of age, when his son was born. Respectable and respected both for his art and his manner of life, he passed for a well-educated man, and brought up his family Avith more than ordinary strictness and regularity. Of this family George was the eldest and favourite child, and early displayed a talent for art, combining with an active restless disposition, great drollery and love of fun, with occasional fits of melancholy. These, the sure accompaniment of an artistic temperament, were in- creased, perhaps, in his case, by his being debarred from associating with boys of his own age, and subjected to the discipline of a parent who had long passed the period of youth. Young Morland had made some progress in art when only seven years of age, and at ten exhibited drawings at the Royal Academy, which it is evident must have had some merit. The very precocity of his art was perhaps the first misfortune of his life, since at fourteen years of .age he was articled to his father, and 126 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. his days henceforth devoted to continuous and steady application. His father seemed to consider every hour not spent at his easel as wasted, — a disciphne so opposed to the natural temperament of the boy, as to make labour hateful to the young artist. Under his father, however, he attained great power of hand and correctness of eye, and learnt to paint by copying the works of the Dutch and Flemish schools.. Although the schools of the Royal Academy were now open to the rising artists of the metropolis, young Morland was not allowed to study there, since his father — over anxious about his morals — did not hke his mingling with the students who resorted to them for instruction, and he conducted his education principally himself. Morland is sometimes looked upon as an untaught genius, who obtained his knowledge without the aid of schools ; but on the contrary, no teaching could be more direct and continuous than that he received from his anxious parent. After some time passed in preliminary study, he attempted original sketches from the poets, and made many illustrations from Spenser's " P'aery Queen " as well as from ballads, such as " Robin Grey," " Margaret's Ghost," &c. These were bought and engraved and found a ready sale. Occasionally, also, he tried his powers in caricature, and soon showed, if not a refined, yet a sufficiently fertile invention. At this time he rarely sketched from Nature on the spot, but stored his mind with the broad characteristics of his subject to reproduce them from memory at home, and it is from this cause that there is little of individual imitation in his pictures, but rather that general aspect of the scene or subject which often appeals to the mind more than the most literal truth. As he grew in years and became conscious of his own powers, young Morland rebelled against the restraint imposed upon him at home, and the severe and continuous labour exacted from him. When about nineteen he first began to evade this discipline, from which he shortly afterward broke entirely loose, following a dissolute course, and justifying himself without shame and without self-reproach. His innate dislike to labour was soon apparent ; he avoided all regular study or occupation, and gave himself up to extravagance, debauchery, and folly. Means of subsistence, however, must be gained, and his abiHties and necessities soon attracted those who live by preying upon others ; he became the debtor and slave of a picture dealer, who tempted him to lodge in his house, and while he pandered cheaply to his vices and follies, kept him in a state of bondage. " His meals were carried up to him by his employer's boy, and when his dinner was brought — which usually consisted of sixpenny-worth of meat from a cook-shop, with a pint of beer — he would sometimes venture to ask if he might not have a pennyworth of pudding. Yet even under this treatment he contributed ANIMAL PAINTERS OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTUR K 127 so much to the profits of his employer as to paint a sufficient number of pictures to fill a room to which the price of admittance was half-a-crown." From this condition he escaped, and was assisted at Margate by a lady who found profitable employment for him in taking miniatiu-e portraits ; with her he went to France, where he might also have obtained employ- ment of the same kind, but his restless nature prevented him, at this important crisis, from settling to any steady labour, and he resumed his former reckless habits. He went to lodge with Mr. William Ward, the mezzotint engraver, and while with him seems for a time to have pursued his painting with some steadiness and in a manner tending to his im- provement, possibly influenced by a growing attachment to Miss Ward. He painted "The Idle and Industrious Mechanic," a pair of small pictures, "The Idle Laundress and Industrious Cottager," and "Letitia, or Seduction," a series of six pictures depicting the fall of a young country girl. Morland is said to have studied every part of these works from Nature, even to the minutest details ; the figures are well drawn and the whole executed with considerable skill. In July, 1786, the painter married the sister of his friend Ward, who followed his example by marrying a month after one of the Miss Morland s. But marriage produced no reform in Morland's reckless and irregular habits ; he soon quarrelled with his brother-in-law, and gave himself up to the company of low associates and to habits of intemperance and dissipation, from which he never after was able to disentangle himself. He painted rapidly, and sold his pictures for anything he could get, yet his genius made him popular notwithstanding, and his productions were eagerly sought after. His boon companions also acted as his agents, and sometimes got as much as five guineas for what he had formerly been paid only five shillings. Such was the request for the painter's works that he might have demanded large prices ; numbers of purchasers resorted to him ; yet by his absurd and useless extravagance Morland had incurred debts in eighteen months to the amount of nearly 4,000/., and was compelled to abscond for a while, until his friends could attempt some arrangement of his affairs. For a time he continued to improve in his art ; he overcame the somewhat laboured finish of his firat manner, and the ease that was induced by the rapid pencil required to meet his urgent wants, had not yet resulted in his using up the stores of his memory. About 1790 Morland arrived at the meridian of his art, but maintained his elevation only a short time, and soon began rapidly to decline. "The Gipsies," 1792, is a good example of this period. The size of that work is larger than usual with Morland ; it is painted with a full pencil and evidently with great ease and rapidity. As his difficulties made no change in his habits, his debts continued 128 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. to increase, notwithstanding the rapid means at his command for satisfy- ing them. He was continually making compositions with his creditors to pay \ 2cl. per month, loo/., 50/., 10/., and was earnest to do so, but after one or two payments constantly neglected to fulfil his engagements. Hunted from house to house by noisy creditors, always compounding for his debts, but never keeping any engagement he had entered into, he lived in constant dread of a prison ; the resources of his memory once worked out, how was an artist, plunged into such hopeless degradation, and beset with such terrors, to realize any more of the true freshness of that rural life in which lay the subjects for his pencil ; he could not leave home from dread of the bailiffs who were continually on the watch for him, and the country with its pigs and its sheep must be sought within his own walls. While living in perpetual dread of his creditors his excesses not only continued but increased ; his naturally fine con- stitution was undermined by them. He now seldom left his painting- room : " he even took his meals in it, though never at any regular periods, but would sometimes at seven in the morning have beefsteaks and onions, with purl and gin or a pot of porter for breakfast. His dinner he would take at eleven, twelve, one, or three o'clock, according as his appetite served. He seldom ate his meals with his wife, and though he kept several servants, would cook his own food and eat it off a chair by the side of his easel ; while in the same apartment were to be seen dogs of various kinds, pigeons flying, and pigs running about. During the whole day he swallowed all kinds of strong liquors ; tea he could not drink, but when invited to partake of this refreshment he would shake his head and say it was very pernicious and made his hand shake." We remember having seen, in the possession of an old friend, a pair of small pictures painted about the latter end of Morland's life, and we were told by their possessor that he sat beside the painter's easel while he completed them, and having paid for them, he took them away with him wet ; the only way to secure an original work of such a master. In November, 1799, Morland was arrested, and, obtaining the rules, took a house in Lambeth, which was a rendezvous for all the profligates of the prison. He was daily intoxicated, and generally lay the whole night on the floor. The ruin of his health and character were soon completed. He was released under the Insolvent Act in 1802, but was now broken-hearted and downcast, harassed by diseased fears and fancies, his intellect and sight also impaired. He was again arrested for a publican's score, and overwhelmed with misfortune, neglect, and self- reproach, he drank, in a state of desperation, great quantities of spirits, and after eight days of delirious fever, died in a spunging house on the 29th October, 1804, in his forty-second year. His wife, to whom — it is hard to believe— as stated by his biographer, he was sincerely attached, ANIMAL PAINTERS OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTUR V. 129 fell into convulsive fits on learning his death, and finished a life, which must have been one of hopeless misery, on the 2nd of November, in her thirty-seventh year, and both were interred- together. He had shortly before written his own epitaph— alas ! too truly — " Here lies a drunken dog." Any one who will read with attention a more extended life of the painter, will be aware that his reputation in his own day was partly accidental, and largely arose out of the very irregularities which we must condemn. Many were eager to possess works which were only to be obtained as it were by lottery, and which all hoped would turn up prizes either then or in the future. We have passed over most of the stories of wild riot and excess that marked the short life of the painter, but we are not prepared to say that his freaks and follies were entirely hindrances, or that they did not in many cases prove of assistance to him in that low walk of art which he had made his own. He was quick of observation, and gathered hints readily from the society into which he was thrown. Thus one of his first follies, related by Dawe, his biographer, as taking place when Morland had not yet completed his apprenticeship, shows this readiness of perception in the painter. He had been spending the evening with a roystering com- pany at a favourite tavern, the " Cheshire Cheese," and on leaving about ten o'clock, took it into his head to start by the hoy to Gravesend. He arrived there a perfect stranger, about two o'clock in the morning, and in company with two strollers, took the road in the dark to Chatham, and ended by joining one of them in a short sea-voyage in which he was nearly wrecked. Returning almost penniless to the " congress " at his tavern, we are told he brought out such a fund of information on nautical matters, as to perfectly astonish the company. It is quite evident that he had gained more by his wild adventure than if he had remained at home pinned to his easel. Again his boon companions were his models, sitting and posing for him. In "The Sportsman's Return," " Dirty Brooks " the cobbler, one of his pot companions and agents, is represented leaning out of his own stall. When surrounded by companions that would have entirely im- peded the progress of other men, " Morland might be said to be in an academy in the midst of models — he would get one to stand for a hand, another for a foot, another for a head, an attitude, or a figure " — nay, he often regulated his compositions, and that in some of his best works, entirely by the chance presence of some choice spirit whom he could use as a model. He would set the low associates, who surrounded him while painting, to watch for passers-by, suitable to paint into his pictures, and despatch them to induce these wayfarers to come and be painted, treating his sitters liberally with beer, spirits, and food, and making K A CENTUR V OF PAINTERS. them satisfied and delighted by his gocd fellowship. He once took it into his head to serve the office of parish constable, and although it was a freak of which he was soon heartily tired, yet it will be seen that even this he managed to turn to his professional advantage. Dawe tells lis that, " Just as Morlarid was about to begin his four pictures of ' The Deserter,' a sergeant, drummer, and soldier, on their way to Dover in pursuit of a deserter, came in for a billet. Seeing that these men would answer his purpose, he accompanied them to the ' Britannia,' and treated them plentifully, while he was earnestly questioning them on the modes of recruiting, with every particular attendant on the trial of deserters by court-martial, and their punishments." When, flying from the pursuit of his creditors, he sought refuge in the country, he visited the cottages of the peasantry, made himself at home with them, and with the habits of their household, and children. We are also told that in company with Brooks, he at times associated with the gipsies, remaining with them several days together, adopting their mode of Ufe, and sleeping with them in barns at night. norland's name as a painter stands out prominently before that of many of his contemporaries of far higher merit; it was spread by the vast number of works his facile hand produced, and by their still wider dispersion by means, of engraving. We have from good authority a fact which closely relates to the great number of the works, many of them very indifferent ones, attributed to Morland. He was for some years (commencing about 1794) under articles to Mr. B , a picture dealer, who employed him in painting original pictures at his own house ; his daily service beginning early, and concluding at dinner time, prob- ably twelve o'clock. Immediately Morland had left, expert copyists were employed in making accurate and elaborate repetitions of his day's work, which were carefully concealed. Returning to his own work on the following morning, any changes, which, upon reconsideration, Morland might think well to make in his picture, were in the afternoon transferred to each copy in progress under the hands of his treacherous copyists. Thus at least four or five pictures were carried on together to completion, the painter never suspecting the trick that was played ; each of these counterfeits bearing those marks of changes in design and alterations of effect that would seem to give proof of its genuineness. We cannot place Morland in the first rank of English art, but his works had this influence on its progress : they showed that there was a store of subjects in our own scenery, and a public to appreciate them ; that, without seeking inspiration in Italy or Greece, an artist might succeed and be original. Henceforth "compositions," such as had pleased the town, from the pencil of Zuccarelli, had as rivals, and as successful rivals, these works, the simple pictures of our own picturesque land. ANIMAL PAINTERS OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 131 Gainsborough had, in this respect, in some degree anticipated Morland ; but even he ching a Httle to the best art of the Dutch. Morland- threw aside all he had learnt from their school, and made an art of his own. We have classed him here as an animal painter, which, it has been shown, comprises only a part of his art : but as an animal painter, he was not like his predecessors, a portrait painter of animals ; for this he was unfitted, and too vulgarly independent. He was ill-grounded in anatomy, and consequently he succeeded best in portraying those animals whose forms were most hidden by their covering, such as sheep, pigs, rabbits, &c., and when he those the horse, it was generally an aged one' not so much on account of its picturesqueness, as for the strong character of its form. K 2 CHAPTER XIII. PAINTERS IN WATER-COLOURS. The great artists who contributed to the foundation of the Royal Academy, and by their talents and reputation had set it fairly afloat in public opinion, had hardly passed from the scene of their labours, when a new art, or what may well be called such, began to rise into importance. The art of painting in water-colours is so peculiarly English, that it may be designated as a national art ; and growing up from this time side by side with oil painting, it has singularly influenced that branch of art, which has, in its turn, beneficially reacted upon it. Although water-colour painting had been practised, both in this country and abroad, long previous to oil painting, and was thus the older art, and had, by our great miniaturists of the age of the Tudors and the Stuarts, been carried to the highest degree of perfection, it was, as in its original use, practised differently from the art of our own times. It was indeed but a species of tempera-painting, wherein the ground was obscured and hidden, and the colours used opaquely as in the ancient missal-paintings. But though the miniaturists and " painters in little " began with using opaque colours, their practice gradually changed to the uae of transparent pigments, and the preservation of the white ground on which they painted. At first such works were wrought on vellum or thin card-board, and we have no precise date when sheets of ivory were substituted, prol3ably about the middle of the seventeenth century. A pocket-book, said to have belonged to Samuel Cooper, whom writers of his own time call " the prince of limners," has come down to us, containing fifteen portraits in various stages of completion. These portraits are all on card, some being left as at the first sitting, whilst one or two are completely finished. The following seems to have been the process of painting, and whether the work of Cooper, or, as is more probable, that of Flatman, gives us an insight into the mode of painting at that period. The outline was suggestively PAINTERS IN WATER-COLOURS. 133 sketched, and then the smooth surface of the card, under the flesh, was covered with a thin wash of opaque white, which, as he used it, must have been an excellent pigment, as it has not changed in any instance. Then with a brownish lake tint the features have been most delicately and beautifully drawn in, and the broad shades under the eyebrows, the nose, and the chin, washed in flatly with the same tint. This seems to have completed the first sitting. In the next, the painter put in the local colour of the hair, washing in at the same time its p"oints of relief or union with the background, in many cases adding a little white to his transparent colour to make the hue absorbent, and to give it a slight solidity. The shadows of the hair were then hatched in, and the features and face in succeeding sittings were hatched or stippled into roundness. Finally, the colours of the dress were washed in, in some cases trans- parently, in others with a slight admixture of white, the shadows of the dress being given with the local colour of the shadows. Some of the works of this period were, however, painted wholly in transparent colours, and it must not be overlooked that highly-finished water-colour drawings, wrought with transparent colours, had been produced in the Dutch school, particularly by Ostade (1617-1671), Backhuysen (1631-1709), and Dusart (1665-1704). Thus we find the various methods of our modern painters in water- colours were well known to their predecessors of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries — the practice of using transparent colours, of mingling transparent with opaque colour, of imitating the local colour of objects in shade, of hatching and stippling — most indeed of the resources of the art — applied, it is true, rather to the human figure than to landscapes. But water-colour art, as now practised, neither grew out of the early method of the missal-painters and illuminators, who were followed by the miniaturists, nor from the tempera-painting of the scene painter, but evidently from the humbler art of the topographer, from which its origin may be distinctly and clearly traced. It began with the tinted repre- sentations of antiquarian remains and ancient buildings, and was chiefly the offspring of the spirit of antiquarianism of the latter part of the last century. The artist painted on the inspiration of the antiquary and for the illustration of his books. He was frequently at the same time both the draughtsman and the engraver ; and though the names and works of those so employed are known, they have little claim to any record on the ground of their art-merits. The outline being of the first consequence was carefully and firmly drawn, and was often completed with the pen, with the light and shade simply added in black or grey. Afterwards such works advanced a step, and were slightly tinted with transparent washes, to indicate the local colour of the objects or scenery^ 134 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. the colour of the' sky being frequently the fnost positive tint used. ' The careful delineation of the many fine remains of abbeys, cathedrals, churches, castles, and mansions, was thus the aim of the early water- colour draughtsman. Such subjects employed the pencils of Sandby, the two Rookers, Hearne, Webber, Alexander, Malton, Dayes, Byrne, and some others who were the true founders of the art. Although most of the men we have just named were essentially topographers, the natural course of their professional practice led some of them into new scenes and foreign climes, extending their knowledge and observation of nature. John Webber, R.A. (b. 1752, d. 1793), accompanied Captain Cook, in 1776, on his last voyage, and brought home many drawings of the scenes and localities he had visited ; some of these will be found in the collection at South Kensington. William Alexander (b. 1767) d. 1816) was draughtsman to Lord Macartney's embassy to China in 1792, and some of his drawings, swarming with groups of Chinese, sparkle with life and colour. The direct reference to nature, both at home and abroad, which was the essence of the art of these men, was beginning to work a change, and was in itself a source of steady progress towards true art. It was impossible for men who as topographers were brought face to face with nature, though at first attending only to the most obvious facts and details which were their chief aim, not to observe also nature's more varied moods and changes ; and it only required a man of genius to arise, who, pursuing the same course, should be able to give life and vitality to the meagre truthfulness of the topographer, to place the art on a wholly different footing. In such hands, and with the new materials, there were no traditions of the " black masters " to stand in the way of progress — to prevent a man from using his own eyes, and seeing nature as she really is. It was soon found that nature did not attitudinize into set compositions ; that it was not necessary to be brown to be like her ; that she did not insist upon dark foregrounds ; and, in fine, that the imitation of nature's great truths was not inconsistent with the utmost variety ■ with selection of subject, and the choice of what is beautiful. But men were already training who were to effect a change, though the advance was necessarily slow, and it may be desirable to trace their progress step by step. Previously, however, to doing so, it is necessary to say a few words on the materials and pigments used, as in a degree regulating the new art, and of themselves obviating some of the defects of a moribund school. At first, no doubt, the topographer having made accurate sketches in outline on the spot, completed the drawing more at leisure in his own home ; but the very portability of the new materials, the facility of execution in their first simple use, and the rapidity with which they dry, rendered painting in water colours direct from nature easy and agreeable, and led to its practice. PAINTERS IN WATER-COLOURS. 135 A general description of the methods of executing "stained," " washed," or " tinted " drawings, as such are called in the early catalogue's of the Royal Academy, has already been given, but the more ]:)recise directions of Edward Dayes in his Instnictiom for Drawing and Colouring Landscapes, published in 1808, may suitably precede an account of those changes which have led to the great excellence of the water-colour school. He tells us tiiat his work is particularly intended to treat of the use of transparent colours, and he does not confine himself to the old method alone, but gives those improvements upon it which had made such progress at the date of his publication. Supposing the outline complete, he says, " The first and most easy way is to make all the shadows and middle tints with Prussian blue and a brown Indian ink ; the clouds being sketched in, and as light as possible, the student begins with the elementary part of the sky, laying it in with Prussian blue, rather tender, so as to leave himself the power of going over_ it once or twice afterwards, or as often as may be necessary ; then, with the blue and a little Indian ink, lay in the lightest shades of the clouds, then the distance, if remote, wath the same colour, rather stronger. Next proceed to the middle ground, leaving out the blue in coming forward, and lastly work up the foreground with brown Indian ink only. This operation may be repeated until the whole is sufticiendy strong, marking the dark parts of the foreground as dark as the ink will make it that is to say, the touches of the shadow in shade. Great care must be taken to leave out the blue gradually as the objects come forward, otherwise it will have a bad effect. Attention must also be given to the middle tints, that they are not marked too strong, which would make it, when coloured, look hard. The same grey colour, or aerial tint, may be first washed over every terrestrial part of the drawing required to be kept down — that is, before colouring — as colour laid over the grey will, of course, not be so light as when the paper is without it. The shadows and middle tints being worked up to a sufficient degree of power, colouring will be the next operation. This must be done by beginning in the distant parts, coming on stronger and stronger, colouring light and middle tint to the foreground, and lastly retouch the darker parts of the foreground with Vandyck brown. Great caution will be required not to disturb the shadows with colour, otherwise the harmony of the whole will be destroyed, or, at any rate, not to do more thaii gently to colour the reflections." Such was the older method, the method in which the works of Webber, Sandby, and Cozens were wrought, but which was afterwards changed by Dayes, Girtin his pupil, and Turner, the rising genius who was to go beyond all who had preceded him in the practice of this delightful art. The first to break away from the trammels of topography, and to raise 136 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. landscape painting in water colours to a branch of fine art, was Cozens. The materials for his life are very scanty, and we gather much of the following from Leslie's Hand-book, his information being obtained from family connections of the painter. John Cozens was the son of Alexander Cozens, who was born in Russia, the natural son of Peter the Great by an Englishwoman whom the Czar took home with him from Deptford, and by whom he had another son, who became a general in the Russian service. The Emperor sent Alexander Cozens to Italy to study painting, from whence he came to England in 1746, where his son John was born in 1752. "I have seen," says Leslie, "a very small pen-drawing of three figures on which is written ' Done by J. Cozens, 1 761, when nine years old.' I have also seen a book of views in Italy' drawn in pencil, some finished with a pen, and others half finished in the manner of line engraving, on which is pasted the following memo- randum :— ' Alexander Cozens, in London, author of these drawings, lost them, and many more, in Germany, by their dropping from his saddle when he was riding on his way from Rome to England in the year 1746. John Cozens, his son, being in Florence in the year 1776, purchased them. When he returned to London, in the year 1779, he delivered the drawings to his father.' " This was probably while the son was travelling in Italy with Mr. Beckford, for whom he wrought many of his best pictures. About two years previous to his death, which Uayes tells us happened about 1 796, John Cozens became a lunatic, and was supported by the generous humanity of Sir George Beaumont. Pilkington places his death in 1799. His works go little beyond light and shade and the suggestion of colour, but they are full of poetry ; there is a solemn grandeur in his Alpine views ; a sense of vastness, and a tender tranquillity in his pictures that stamp him as a true artist ; a master of atmospheric eff"ects, he seems to have fully appreciated the value of mystery, leaving parts in his picture for the imagination of the spectator to dwell on and search into. Leshe well says that " pensive tenderness forms the charm of his evening scenes," that "he had an eye equally adapted to the grandeur, the elegance and the simplicity of nature, but loved best her gentlest, most silent eloquence." We learn also from him that Cozens's art made such an impression on Constable that, in a moment of enthusiastic admiration, he pronounced John Cozens to be " the greatest genius that ever touched landscape." Cozens was one of our first water-colour painters who visited Italy, and he seemed thoroughly to have entered into the grander features of the country ; he is best known by his Italian views ; but there are some fine studies from trees in Windsor Forest painted by him. While he departed but slightly from the earlier method of tinted drawing, he made PAINTERS IN WATER-COLOURS. n7 *the first move in the riglit direction. The pigments he used were different from those named by Dayes ; he compounded his cloud tints, and those of his distant mountains, of Indian red, a small portion of lake, indigo, and yellow ochre ; in his middle distance, he blended a tint of black and burnt umber. His distant trees were tinted with the warm washes used for the sky, and those nearer with yellow ochre and indigo, enriched with burnt sienna ; in the immediate foreground trees and shrubs, the same pigments are used with greater power. With such simple means he produced works which were thought worthy of being copied by Girtin and Turner, his great successors in the art — nor is this advance from topo- graphy to true poetry, from tinted drawings to the suggestion of local colour from the first laying-in of his drawings, all that Cozens achieved in advance of his predecessors. His works siiow that he was acquainted with the use of gentle washings, of abrasion of the surface to give atmo- sphere and distance, or to indicate sun-rays through intercepting clouds ; and prove no less that he was a true master of light and shade, and of the use of accident in painting. We have searched the catalogues of the Royal Academy with great care, and find that John Cozens only exhibited there on one occasion. In 1776, when he" was about twenty-four years of age, he sent "A Landscape, with Hannibal, in his March over the Alps, Showing to his Army the Fertile Plains of Italy." This is surmised to have been painted in oil, and must have been a work of rare excellence, since it is reported that Turner said he had learned more from it than anything he had seen. Where is the picture now ? It is hardly to be wondered at that Cozens, who refrained from exhibiting, worked so largely for one patron, and was almost continually abroad, was so little known as an artist. How should the general public know anything of his works ? Another artist, who flourished in the latter half of the eighteenth century, was Paul Sandby, R.A. Born at Nottingham in 1725, he lived into the succeeding century, and died in 1809. He has been called the father of water-colour art, and certainly as contemporary with Taverner, an amateur, and Lambert, whom we have already mentioned ; and as ])receding Hearne, Rooker, Malton, Byrne, and Webber, by more than twenty years, he may claim that title by priority. As contrasted with Cozens, he was a man of ripe years when Cozens was an infant, yet he was essentially a topographic artist, and when in his later works his att seemed to touch the confines of poetry, the influence of Cozens may be traced. He was for many years drawing-master to the Royal Military Academy at Woolwich, and on the foundation of the Royal Academy was one of the original members. George III. employed him to give instruction in drawing to the royal children, and perhaps from this cause a large number of his works are scenes in the neighbourhood of Windsor 138 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. and Eton. He painted both in body-colour, or, as works in this manner were then called, " water-colour," and made " tinted drawings." A fine specimen of the former will be found in the collection at South Ken- smgton. No. 383, with many specimens of the latter ; while there are a large number of his tinted drawings in the royal collections at Windsor. These drawings are simple in their general treatment of light and shade, and weak in colour; for Sandby seems never to have given up the early methods. They are more valuable for their accurate rendering of the various scenes than as works of art, William Fayne, of whose history but little is at present known, is another artist of the period, and one to whom but scant justice has yet been done. He seems to have been a native of Plymouth, as we find him in 1786 residing at Plymouth Dock, and, for the first time, con- tributing to the Royal Academy Exhibition five views of Plymouth and its neighbourhood. He continued to reside there during the years 1787-9, still contributing to the exhibition tinted drawings of Devon- shire scenery. In 1790 Payne seems to have removed to London, and resided in Thornhaugh Street, Bedford Square. We find him this year again sending four Devonshire scenes to the exhibition, after which date his name entirely disappears from the catalogue. Reynolds is said to have expressed great admiration for some of Payne's Devonshire drawings, particularly a representation of the slate quarries at his native Plympton. Even these transcripts from nature were said to be entirely novel in their excellent treatment. Payne adopted many peculiarities in his methods of execution, some of which are valuable additions to the art. He abandoned the use of out- hne with the pen. His general process was very simple. Having invented a grey tint (still known by the colourmen as Payne's grey), he used it for all the varied gradations of his middle distance, treating the extreme distance, as also the clouds and sky, with blue. For the shadow, in his foreground, he used Indian ink or lamp-black, breaking these colours into the distance by the admixture of grey. In this he but slightly dilifered from the other artists of his time, but his methods of handling were more peculiarly his own. These consisted in splitting the brush to give the forms of foliage, dragging the tints to give texture to his fore- grounds, and taking out the forms of lights by wetting the surface and rubbing with bread or rag. He seems to have been among the first who used this practice, which, in the hands of Turner, became such a powerful aid to effect, and enabled the early painters in water-colour to refrain from using white or solid pigments in the lights. _ Having thus prepared a vigorous light and shade, Payne tinted his distance, middle distance, and foreground with colour, retouching and deepening the shadows in front to give power to his work, and°even PAINTERS IN WATER-COLOURS. 139' loading his colour and using gum plentifully. He sought to enrich scenes wherein he had attempted effects of sunset or sunrise, by passing a full wash of gamboge and lake over the completed drawing. He abandoned mere topography for a more poetical treatment of landscape scenery, and although he has none of the dehcacy of Cozens, and rarely touches our sympathies, he set an example of what might be done, even in the simpler practice of " tinting," by accidental effects, by selection of forms, by sun-rays piercing through clouds which, like Cozens, he obtained by washing out, by mists and vapours, introducing such treat- ments into the practice of the art. Many of his works are of large size, and although occasionally very vacant and empty, and too often dis- playing great mannerism in handling, and little reference to nature, they yet served to lead the way for the abler men who followed. Time has acted unfavourably on his pictures ; they have darkened considerably, partly from the foxy-brown to which the general wash has changed, and pardy from the too great strength of the black in the foregrounds. " Unfortunately for the reputation of the artist, 'Payne's style' became corrupt merely from its becoming too common, being so rendered from the folly of fashion ; for so obviously simple and easily comprehensible was his process, that all the mammas in the land were eager to obtain him as the instructor of their daughters." Mr. Payne for some years derived a large income from teaching, but failing to refill and refresh his mind by studying from nature, he degenerated into the merest mannerist, and while the art was advancing on every side, he not only stood still, but sank into weakness and inanity. Another artist who aided in laying the foundation of our school of water colour painting is Jolm Smith. Born in 1749, we have but little record of his life and history, and have to trace his progress by his works. These, as they are mostly dated, enable us to compare him with his fellow-artists, and to see how much or how little he contributed to the general progress. Byron describes the difficulty fame finds in registering the deeds of men who rejoice in like names with that of our artist : "Men of pith, Sixteen named Thompson, and nineteen named Smith." And he that would follow the course of Smith's art in the catalogues and records of the day, will find it difficult to make choice of the right man. Smith is said to have travelled in Italy with or for the Earl of Warwick, and thus to have acquired the cognomen of "Warwick " Smith. His contemporaries said that he tinted his works almost to the force of oil-painting; and Gainsborough is related to have remarked that "he was the first water-colour painter who carried his intention through;' A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. high praise from one so capable of judging, and made upon a larger view of his works than has fallen to our share. A writer in 1808, in the Meview of Publications of Fiiie Art., says of him, that " he is the father of the system of colouring on paper, which at present prevails almost universally ; " and adds, " we have heard, and indeed there are those among us who know, that Mr. John Smith first discovered and taught the junior artists the rationale of tempering their positive colours with the neutral grey formed by the mixture of red, blue and yellow : that this grey, constituted of all the primary colours, would harmonize with any, and form a common bond of concord with all, and that, tempered with a little more or less of warm or cool colours, as time, or climate, or season might require, it became the air tint, or negative colour of the atmosphere which intervened between the eye and the several objects of the landscape." He died in 1831. We have traced thus far the progress of water-colour painting from its topographic founders, through the changes they introduced into their practice, until, in the hands of Smith, Payne, and Cozens, it rose into a truly poetical art. Thomas Girtin was the first to give a full idea of the power of water- colour painting ; the first wholly to change the practice of the art, to achieve in this medium richness and depth of colour, with perfect clear- ness and transparency, and the utmost boldness and facility of execution ; the first who followed out a procedure the reverse of that which had hither- to prevailed — laying in the whole of his work with the true local colour of the various parts, and afterwards adding the shadows with their own local and individual tints. Girtin was born in Southwark, on the i8th of February, 1773. Like most other children, he early showed a great predilection for drawing, and covered every scrap of paper that came to hand with his boyish fancies ; but as he himself said that " other boys of his own age, ten or twelve, who amused themselves or idled in the same way, drew as well as himself," we may be assured that there was nothing very marked in these childish efforts. We do not learn how or when he became acquainted with Dr. Munro, but to this acquaintance he was indebted for good examples to study, for companionship with some of the rising youths of the day, and for sound advice as to the practice of the art he soon resolved to follow. Dr. Munro, who then lived in the Adelphi Terrace, inherited from his father a valuable and extensive collection of drawings by Marlowe, Gainsborough, Hearne, Sandby, Rooker, Cozens, and others, and being himself a sincere lover of art, who had known most of these painters in his youth, he had greatly added to his inherited collection. Towards the end of the last century, he opened his house and his well-filled foHos to the young artists of the day. Girtin, Turner, Francia, Varley, Edridge PAINTERS IN WATER-COLOURS. Linnell, and others gladly availing themselves of this privilege, attended at his house on stated evenings, to make copies and studies of the choice works he possessed, aided by the remarks of the doctor, who from his intimacy with the older artists, was well able to speak as to the methods they employed, their various pigments, and the modes of using them. Dr. Munro also encouraged the young artists to sketch from nature, and to bring their sketches and to work them into pictures at these even- ing meetings. Studies for their pencils abounded everywhere on the shores of the river overlooked by his house. Among others, the ruins of the old Savoy Palace furnished many subjects for them ; and Girtin said that a study he made of the old steps of this ruined palace, was a lesson from which he dated all the future knowledge which he displayed in the pictorial representation of ruined masonry. Here he studied detail carefully, in order to treat it afterwards with breadth. Girtin and Turner were well aware that the labour of the mind is higher than that of the hand, and that " it is not in the scene itself, however great, or however beautiful, that the merit of a picture consists ; it is in the manner of treating it." This axiom was a new one in water colour art, which had begun in exact delineation, ignoring any particular mode of viewing scenery. Girtin, in his young days, had taken drawing lessons from one Fisher, of Aldersgate Street ; later in life he was placed for a time to study art under Edward Dayes, partly a topographer, partly an engraver — a man who knew well the general principles of art, and drew the figure passably well, but had little of the genius of his pupil, whose rapid progress made the teacher jealous and unwilling to admire works so different and so superior to his own. Girtin visited many towns and cathedrals in order to sketch them, and the lakes of Cumberland and Westmoreland. He also made excursions into Scotland and Wales, both north and south, and soon began to treat mountain and lake scenery in a manner very different to that of his predecessors. One of the writers of the day tells us that " Girtin usually finished the greater part of his drawing on the spot." We have no doubt that his less important works and his studies were wrought in this way ; but that his finest works should be, is inconsistent with the daring effects of cloud and storm, of gloom and the solemn massing of objects, embodied in his best pictures. Where, but in his own studio, after deep observation on the spot, could such works have been produced ? One who had frequently watched his progress, tells us that " his finely coloured compositions were wrought with much study, and proportionate manual exertion ; " and that though he did not hesitate, nor undo what he had once done, for he worked on prin • ciple, yet he reiterated his tints to produce "splendour and richness, and repeated his depths to secure transparency of tones. He resolutely 142 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. suppressed details, seeking for breadth and largeness of parts, qualities difficult to achieve in the presence of Nature." When fully settled in the practice of his art we find him drawing chiefly on cartridge-paper of a rough surface and low tone of colour, choosing this material to work on for the scope it gave to his largeness of manner and omission of details, as well as for its low tone which accorded with the phase of nature he most loved to delineate. It has been well remarked that associating with Turner, working much with him at Dr. Munro's house, and ever in emulous but friendly rivalry, it is curious how markedly unlike are the works of the two painters ; the direction of Turner's art in water-colours was rather towards light, and the effects of light and atmosphere; that of Girtin to largeness of parts, generalization, and gloomy grandeur. Girtin was fond of contrasting cool shadows with warm and brilliant lights spread over the picturesque ruins in which he delighted, giving by these means an appearance of sunshine and a splendour of effect, startling to those who had been accustomed to the tamer manner of the topographers, or even to the poetical tenderness of the works of Cozens. Girtin washed-in his skies with a mixture of indigo and lake, and the shadows of his clouds with light red and indigo, or Indian red and indigo. The warm tone of the cartridge-paper served for the lights, and was enhanced by being opposed to the azure, and to the cool tints of the clouds. It is said that the wire-marked cartridge he loved to work on was only to be obtained at a stationer's at Charing Cross, and was folded in quires. As the half sheet was not large enough for his purpose he had to spread out the sheet, and the crease of the folding, being at times more absorbent than the other parts of the paper, a dark blot was caused across the sky, and indeed across the whole picture in many of his works. This defect was at first tolerated on account of the great originahty and merit of his works, and gradually it gave a higher value to those in which it occurred, being considered a proof of their originality. For his light stone-tints, Girtin used thin washes of Roman ochre, laid on tolerably wet, adding light red ochre and lake to vary the effect ; for brick buildings he used burnt sienna, madder brown, and lake with the ochres, at times contrasting these warm tints with indigo and even with pure ultramarine. For finishing the foreground when the local colour was to be re- presented with the fullest force, Girtin used Vandyck brown and Cologne earth. His greens, which were mostly very negative, were composed of gamboge, indigo, and burnt sienna, the two latter pre- dominating. Occasionally he gave the fullest richness, by yellow-lake, brown-pink and Prussian blue, shading the trees with indigo and burnt PAINTERS IN WATER-COLOURS. 143 sienna, and adding, in the most neutral parts, a beautiful and har- monious shadow tint, composed of grey and madder brown, which, mingling at times with the indigo and burnt sienna, gave great harmony, and kept up that feeling of " tone " which is so marked a quality in his pictures. Girtin made his greys sometimes with Venetian red and indigo, or Indian red and indigo, and a series of harmonious warm and cool greys with Roman ochre, indigo, and lake, mixed in varied degrees. He had but one manner, and that he had nearly perfected when he died ; and it is just possible that had he lived to be popular he might have become somewhat of a chiqueur ; indeed his use of cartridge, and more especially his indifference to, nay, even affectation in parading, what was really a blot upon his work, shows the spirit of a mannerist, a spirit very likely to grow upon a man when he finds even his faults magnified into beauties. Girtin's success, the bold and vigorous manner in which he wrought, the unrivalled ease and mastery of his touch, made a great impression on the public. His instruction was much sought after, and reams of paper were covered with splashes of Vandyck brown, Roman ochre, and indigo blue. The artists of the day also sought to imitate his style. We are even told that Francia produced many spurious Girtins ; and others far less able than Francia made coarse compositions, opposing hot and cold colours with a crudity and harshness that rendered the school and the style for a time distasteful. Dayes and other writers speak of Girtin's intemperance and irregularities, and we fear there must be some cause for censure. Yet there are those who treat the matter more lightly, telling us that he was shy, and rather sought the company of his inferiors than of the cultivated and well-bred ; and this not, as in Morland's case, because he loved low society, but because he felt more at his ease, and could indulge his leisure in idle- ness. Thus, in travelling to the north, he would take his passage in a collier, and delight to live in common with the crew, eating salt-beef, smoking, and drinking grog with them, enjoying their rough jokes and noisy songs. And in his country journeys, the kitchen of the little road- side inn was sought by him in preference, where he found subjects and characters suited to his feeling of the picturesque. Latterly, his evenings were frequently passed at the house of one Harris, a frame-maker, in Gerrard Street, Soho, where Morland also frequently resorted. This Harris was a dealer in drawings, and knew well his advantage in having two such men in his keeping, as he made much money by both of them ; for Girtin, like his companion, rather inclined to sell his works through a dealer than to those who wished to possess them. He is said to have been of a kind and friendly disposition — known as honest 144 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. Tom Girtin amongst his associates, and quite ready to tell whatever he knew in art to whoever sought his assistance and advice. For two or three winters before his death he belonged to a " Sketching Society ; " probably the precursor of the one that existed almost to our own day, and having rules nearly similar. No society could have been more respectable ; and it would seem to show that if his habits had been loose and intemperate, he was in a fair way to improvement. In his twenty-third year be painted a panorama of London, as seen from the roof of the Albion flour-mills, which is said to have been much admired ; though Leslie laments that any portion of so short and valuable a life as Girtin's should have been wasted on so transient a work. After Girtin's death the panorama was sold to a Russian nobleman, who took it to his own country. Girtin's health broke down, we know not from what cause, and at the short peace in 1802 he was advised to visit Paris with a view to its restoration ; his complaint was on the lungs — asthma, or consumption, for accounts differ. Feelmg lonely while in Paris, he occupied himself by making above twenty sketches of buildings and views in that city ; these on his return he etched on soft ground, and had the effect laid in from his drawings in aquatint. He also painted two scenes from his Paris views for Covent Garden Theatre. Thus striving against illness, and energetic to the last, we find this man, charged with intemperate habits, doing enough to wear out one of sound health ; but whether paying the penalty of past errors, or of overwrought strength, his disease became hopeless, and he died at his lodgings in the Strand, at one Norman's, a frame-maker. He was buried in the churchyard of St. Paul's, Covent Garden, where a stone was shortly after erected — " To the memory of Thomas Girtin, artist, who departed this life November i, 1802." Before Girtin's early death he had married, and had one son, afterwards a surgeon at Islington, and a diligent collector of all his father's works that came within his means. Several fine drawings from his collection were shown in the International Exhibition of 1862. The original drawings Girtin made were in the possession of the Earl of Essex. Thus we have seen that to the poetry of the art, as practised by Cozens, Girtin added power — power of effect, power of colour and tone, and power of execution. " Sobered tints of exquisite truth and broad chiaroscuro," says Leslie, " are his prevailing characteristics ; " but as we have remarked, his strength wanted refinement and delicacy — wanted range and variety, qualities which it was left to his friend and com- panion Turner to supply. Girtin died just as he was rising into eminence — just as he was about to prove whether he had or had not resources beyond those he had already exhibited. Turner was destined to live and to becom.e a landscape painter, both in water-colour and PAINTERS IN WATER-COLOURS. 145 oil, such as the world had hardly yet seen ; as such we shall have a long chapter to devote to him in the history of art, and it is only to show his relation to the progress of painting in water-colours that we give him space in this. We are told that during Girtin's short career his works were astonishingly numerous, yet we are unacquainted with any treasury of his sketches such as we possess of only the early days of Turner. Turner, early in his water-colour practice, realized a new and a great truth in art, and this he afterwards carried out in his oil pictures also. Others had tried to give the true effect of light by sacrificing the shadows, hence the heavy forced shadows of even the otherwise truthful Dutch- men, and the rule, adopted almost as a law, of making the foregrounds dark. Turner on the contrary sought to give the true colour of shadows, and of objects in shadow, and as we have but a confined range between the pigments representing light and dark, he had necessarily in a degree to sacrifice his lights ; and was continually endeavouring to increase their brightness and breadth, and by this means to make his gradations as infinitesimal as possible. In the oil paintings of his middle and last periods this is especially seen ; in his water-colours, after he had once obtained the mastery of his means, it is always evident. Thus though somewhat younger than Girtin, Turner was really ahead of him in art, an opinion which was held by his contemporaries also ; for before Girtin died. Turner had already been elected both an associate and an academician, and must have owed the former distinction at least to his works in water-colours. In his sketches, properly studied, we may trace not only Turner's progress, but Turner's processes and his art-principles. With Girtin and others, we find him assiduously copying the works of Hearne, Cozens, and Sandby, in those evening meetings at Dr. Munro's. Under Malton, himself a clever topographic artist, Turner studied perspective, and studied it thoroughly ; we know that Malton was well quaUfied to teach even such a pupil as Turner, and this teaching perhaps led the pupil in after life to accept the professorship of perspective at the Royal Academy. As soon, IwDwever, as Turner had passed his pupilage, as soon as he began to see and study nature for himself, he not only gave up the tinting method which he had thus learned, and adopted the practice of laying in his pictures with the local colour first, but he adopted it in a manner wholly his own — a manner whose gradual development, until it arrived at full perfection, is to be studied in his sketches, better even than in his finished pictures. His practice seems to have been to lay in his warm and cool colours opposed to each other in general masses; beginning with delicate and transparent washes, repeating them with slight variations of the local colour, as seen in light or in shade, to break up the masses and give L 146 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. varietyand texture, yet still preserving great transparency in liis early painting, and paying attention to little more than the merest generalities of form. Sometimes, when the masses of light and cool colour had been somewhat advanced, he washed, or otherwise abraded the surface of his paper, and then wrought out the details of form on this surface by luminous shadows varied according to the general hue of the mass, as light or dark, warm or cold; gradually feeUng out by such means, with extreme delicacy, the minor forms and details, until these were sufficiently pronounced for their position, either as distance, mid-distance, pr fore- ground. By such means, while he kept up the transparency of his work, he achieved endless variety, delicate gradations, great breadth, and great atmosphere in his pictures; and in all stages of their progress, the general effect was at the same time maintained. Of course this power was not obtained at once. We see in his early works a gradual transition from tinted drawings to local colouring, and thence, by gradual advances, to the method above described. As Turner arrived at perfect knowledge and perfect mastery he adopted or invented new means to perfect his surfaces and give quality and texture ; such as damping the masses of colour, and cleansing them of irregularities by picking or blotting-out portions of the tint, or sharpening the edges of light and giving forms of foliage, buildings or figures, by taking out lights with bread, or damp rag. Again by wetting dark masses of tint, and when in a wet state, by scraping out lights with a bluntish knife ; cutting out sharp lights from the surface of the paper, to give broad high lights on white drapery, buildings, or animals, or the glistening and sun-lighted edges of leaves; stippling to flatten and give breadth to skies and distances ; or to neutrahze and harmonize colour by juxtaposition of hues and tints. Turner used no white or opaque pigments in his pictures : yet no one knew better than he did the value and use of white, for he used it freely in sketching from nature, and in studying his pictures, either on a very delicate greyish tint, on a darker greyish blue paper, on cartridge paper, or even on white paper, of which there are numerous examples at South Kensington. Many of his fine studies of skies are so treated, and whenever he sought great rapidity, he freely used white ; but in his finished pictures he purposely avoided it, even to the end of his career. At a meeting where many water-colour painters were present, Mr. Horsley, R.A., was exclaiming against the injurious practice of Harding and others, who, by the use of white and opaque pigments, were bringing about a total change in a beautiful art. He was joined by the late Mr. Munro of Novar, who, having accidentally overheard him, supported his remarks by saying:—"! am glad to hear your remarks, Mr. Horsley. Turner himself was of the same opinion ; he declared to me PAINTERS IN WA TEE-COLOURS. 147 that water-colour painting would be totally ruined, and lose all its individuality and beauty by the bad practice of mingling opaque with transparent colour." This anecdote supports the conclusion we have arrived at from the examination of his works, and shows that on principle he avoided the use of solid pigments. By the removal of the surface of his_ paper Turner obtained all the advantages arising from the use of white, without the danger of losing the transparency and harmony of tone supphed by the creamy colour of the paper, and which is sometimes lost by the careless or improper use of white. Landscape and figure painting in tempera or body colour were practised both by our own countrymen and foreigners side by side with tinted drawings, yet no one seems to have thought of mingling the two methods, or for some time of the possibility, in transparent colours, of laying in the local tints first, and afterwards defining the lights and shadows, as did the tempera painters. The tempera painter continued to the end to ignore his white ground (the paper), and to lay in his work solidly, even to the sky, overlooking the possibility of mingling the two, as is done so etfectively in the present day. It will be perceived that we estimate Turner's influence on the pro- gress of water-colour painting as far greater than Girtin's, or of any of his predecessors ; yet while we give Turner the highest place, both for art and execution, we cannot credit even him with the invention or first use of all the processes which he so successfully adopted in landscape painting, and which have so greatly added to the resources of the rising school. _ We opened this chapter with some account of the methods of working of the miniature painters, derived from a long ancestry. In their practice we have seen that many, if not all, those executive means had been long in use ; among others, even that which produced the great change in the art from tinting to water-colour painting, namely, the laying in the subject from the first with its local colours. This branch of art, at the time Girtin and Turner were progressing together in landscape, numbered many clever men — such as Hamilton^ Shelley, Westall, and others ; men who did not practise merely minia- ture painting in water-colours, but painted subjects from history or poetry consisting of single figures or groups, wherein the use of the local colour from the first — washing, stippling, and even the addition of white or body colour — were part of the method employed. A figure of Eve, in the South Kensington Museum, by Hamilton, R.A., who died m 1 80 1, is rich and full of colour, the shadows being hatched in over the local colour of the flesh. Again, R. Westall, R.A., born in 1765, was ten years older than either Turner or Girtin, and had practised as a miniature and figure painter for many years before they effected the change of manner in landscape art. His works also were rich and full L 2 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. in colour, and of great beauty of execution, as we learn by the following anecdote. We are told that he took some of them to Northcote to ask his advice, and that, after attentively examining them, Northcote ex- claimed, " Why, this is something new in art. How do'ee do it ? I did not believe that water-colour could be brought to this perfection. Why, young man, these are the most beautiful specimens of the art I have seen. I would give the world to do such things." From which we may infer that it was the rich quality of the works, joined to delicacy of execution, that pleased the pupil of Sir Joshua. Moreover, many of the oil painters wrought in water-colours certamly with more richness and colour than the topographers. We have heard of, but not seen, works in this medium, by Wright of Derby ; some by Gainsborough, which we have seen, were far in advance of the tmted drawings of the day, and may have lent suggestions towards the change of practice. Thus we have traced painting in water-colours from mere topography, until it took its true rank as a fine art. In a future chapter we shall enter upon the history of the art, when its professors became numerous, and when its rivalry with oil led to combinations among those who practised it, in order to secure for the new art its fair representation before the public. CHAPTER XIV. THE SCHOOL OF MINIATURE PAINTERS. In describing, in the first chapter, the rise of art in England, we pointed to our miniature painters as the first native artists who attained eminence, and instanced Nicholas Hilliard, in the reiga of Elizabeth, followed by Isaac and Peter Oliver, John Hoskyns, and, later, Samuel Cooper, as highly distinguished in this favourite art ; and we have in the preceding chapter described the processes of the early miniaturists in relation to the origin of water-colour painting. English art, in fact, began in portraiture. We trace, in its earliest efforts, the desire which has always existed to possess such remembrances as art could supply to gratify love and affection, or to retain the memory of great and distinguished men. Miniature, perhaps, lends itself more to the affections than any other class of art. Cultivated since the days of Elizabeth no other has, to our time, found such steady encouragement. Its intrinsic beauty and elaborate finish are charms which address themselves at once to all, and all can comprehend and esteem its merits. It is not our purpose to include here as miniaturists those artists, briefly mentioned in the following chapter, who in early times drew highly-finished heads of a small size in pencil, or with the pen, and shghtly washed them in with Indian ink, usually on vellum ; but to consider the term miniature as strictly applying to portraits executed in water-colours on ivory, or in enamel on copper, in some few instances on silver or gold ; these materials fixing an absolute limit to the size of the work, and being those solely used by artists to whom the term minia- turist may be most correctly applied. We have said "fixing absolutely," for, though the diameter of the tooth determines the surface of ivory which can be obtained from it, attempts have been made to unite the pieces without apparent joint, or to turn, and afterwards flatten, a plate from the circumference of the tooth, so as to form large surfaces ; and I50 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. also in enamelling, experiments have been tried to vitrify large plates ; yet the success has been doubtful, and even if obtained would destroy the peculiar character of miniature art. Miniature painting on ivory is practised with the ordinary transparent water-colours with occasionally a little opaque colour for the high lights. Some few expedients are used in practice ; but the art is simple. Enamel painting is a more complicated process, attended with many difficulties, and each artist who has excelled in it has usually adopted some expedients of his own which may be deemed his secrets. The risk of failure attends every process ; the design must be traced in the first in- stance, and cannot be altered or amended. Success is only ensured by the utmost care and attention, assisted by that skill which long ex- perience alone can give. Yet in the enduring brilliancy of his delicate work the artist has his reward. Jean JPetitot, horn at Geneva 1607, died 169T, was not the first who applied this art to portraiture ; for it had been extensively practised by the Limoges enamellers ; and their large plaques with portraits of the families of Guise and Navarre show their mastery of the means and their artistic skill as painters. Petitot, however, was the first who brought the art into perfect competition with miniatures on ivory, a perfection which has hardly been surpassed in the art of minia- ture painting in enamel. Though not to be classed with the English school, Petitot practised in England for some time in the reign of Charles I., and was greatly assisted in his experiments in the processes of vitrification, and in the choice of colours which will stand the j'urnace, by the chemical knowledge of Sir Theodore Mayerne, the Court physician. In our first chapter we mentioned the great merits of the early miniature painters in this country. Holbein's miniatures are marked by a wonder- ful power of drawing and character, but a true work by him is rare. Hil- liard's miniatures, are well drawn, not wanting in character, beautiful in their delicate finish, the dresses and ornaments enriched by the use of gold, but they are only weakly and faintly coloured, and the faces are wanting in roundness and power. The Olivers showed an advance in art-qualiiies and in power, yet wanted the delicacy and refinement of Hilliard ; and the same may be said of their contemporary, Hoskins. In Samuel Cooper, who succeeded them, miniature art culminated. His works have known many clever copyists, and have suffered greatly by repairs, but a fine work by him in a good condition, is indeed a treasure. Well drawn, full of character ar.d expression, graceful in truthful simplicity of manner, the hair of his females charmingly treated, quiet and sweet in colour, we feel assured that the mind and very image of those who were distinguished and beautiful are before us, though two whole centuries intervene. We know nothing — even in the works of the most distinguished artists of our THE SCHOOL OF MINIATURE PAINTERS. 151 own times — which can compare with those of Cooper, It has been said that he could only draw the face, but this is a mistake : he was assuredly a correct and powerful draughtsman. Following these distinguished miniaturists, we find Thomas Flatinati (1633-1688). He was of New College, Oxford, and was called to _ the bar ; but he did not succeed, and he left the law for the arts. He arrived at much excellence in his miniature portraits, and his works were highly esteemed. They were on rather a larger scale than those of his pre- decessors, more largely painted in body colour, and though not wanting in character, were less refined in their drawing and manner. Flatman is also known as a poet, and his Songs and Poems, published in 1674, reached a third edition within ten years. Alexander Brozune, a minia- turist of the same period, painted Charles H., the Countess Stuart, the Prince of Orange, and other notables, and was also a writer. He pubUshed, in 1669, The Art of Painting, Limning, and Etching. _ In Queen Anne's reign, Lewis Crosse excelled in miniature, and in minia- ture copies of the ItaHan masters, and had many of the nobility for his sitters. He possessed a fine collection of miniatures, which he sold in 1722. He died in 1724. Charles Bait was of the same period. Born in Sweden, the son of a Frenchman, he came early to England, and his art was English, He was a jeweller, and not being successful here in that trade, he tried to gain a livelihood by teaching drawing. Walpole says that he had inveigled one of his pupils, the daughter of a general officer, into a promise of marriage, and that the affair being discovered, Boit was thrown into prison, where, during two years' confinement, he studied enamel painting. He practised the art in London with very great success, and received extravagant prices for his work. His colour was frequently crude and disagreeable. The difficulties of his art are shown in his attempt to execute an unusually large plate for the Queen, repre- senting her Majesty, Prince George of Denmark, and the chief officers of her Court. He received very considerable advances for this work ; but though he built a furnace for the purpose, he was unable to lay an enamel ground over the large surface of his plate, and failed after many experiments. The Queen had died in the meanwhile. Boit ran into debt, and fled to France, where he was well received, and where his works were greatly admired. He died suddenly at Paris about 1726. Bernard Lens, born in London, 1680, died 1740, was distinguished in miniature, and was appointed miniature painter and enameller to George II. He was also much esteemed for his miniature copies after Rubens and Yandyck. He left two sons who followed his profession, as did also his nephew, Lewis Goupy. These artists were Englishmen, with the exception of Boit ; who, however, belongs to our school. We have only an exceptional 152 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. knowledge of their art, which, from its character, is not easily identified. Yet we cannot doubt from what is known, that their reputation in their own day may be taken as a test of their merits. Approaching the time when the memories of artists and their works were more regarded, we find many notices of Christian Frederick Zincke, and in the British Museum, the genial portrait of the old man seated at his work — no doubt as true as a photograph — with all the accessories of his art. He was born at Dresden, in 1684, came to England in his twenty-second year, and became the pupil of Boit. He pursued enamel painting with great success. His drawing was graceful ; his works simple and refined in expression ; his colour pleasing. He soon equalled, and then excelled his master, almost rivalling Petitot. He met with such great encourage- ment that his industry could hardly keep pace with his sitters ; and he was especially patronized by George II. and his queen. His eyesight failing in 1746, he retired from his profession, and died in South Lambeth in 1767. His enamels are well known ; several are in the royal collection, and though his works are numerous, their merit has always secured for them a high price. James Deacon, a young English artist, on Zincke's retirement, took his house in Tavistock Street, Covent Garden. Deacon's miniatures are full of character and expression, and though elaborately careful, are in a very masterly style. But he had scarcely begun his career, which was one of much promise, when, attending as a witness at the Old Bailey, he caught the gaol fever, and died in 1750. At this time Jarvis Spencer became celebrated for his miniatures. He had been a gentleman's servant, and having a natural talent for art, he gained by his own perseverance many eminent sitters, and became the fashionable painter of his day. His enamel portraits were collected and exhibited in 1762, and he died in the following year. The delicate art of the enameller connects itself closely with the craft of the jeweller and the gold-chaser in their highest branches. To these trades — we would rather call them arts — the great enamellers Petitot and Boit were bred ; and in Michael Moser, R.A., we have another enameller who was led to art by the same road. He was, in the true sense of the word, an ornamentist. Eminent as a painter, modeller, sculptor, and teacher, he is particularly distinguished by his medals and enamels. He was born at Schaffhausen in 1704, and came to England when young. As manager of the St. Martin's Lane Schools, and one of the foundation members, and the first keeper of the Royal Academy, the arts of this country owe too much to him to permit his exclusion from any connected account of their progress. His chief works will be found on the trinkets of the day, which, according to the prevailing fashion, were ornamented by his beautiful and tasteful enamels, and we are told that he was paid a high price for two fine portraits of the young THE SCHOOL OF MINIATURE PAINTERS. 153 Prince of Wales and the Duke of York, which he painted in enamel on a watch-case for George III., for whom he also executed the Great Seal of England. He died in 1783. His only daughter, Mary Moser, an admirable flower painter, was one of the original members of the Royal Academy. She was an amiable, lively, clever w^oman, and was reputed to have formed an unrequited passion for Fuseli. Her letters prove her desire to establish a hterary flirtation with him. Perhaps this was the extent of her weakness, for she married a Captain Lloyd, a military officer, and afterwards only practised art as an amusement. She died in 1819. The artist, however, who, though a long way behind him, ranked first in miniature art after Zincke, was Nathaniel Hone, R.A. He was the son of a merchant in Dublin, and was born there about 17 18. He had a natural love of painting, and was a self-taught genius ; he soon made his way to England and practised portrait painting in several parts of the country, more especially at York, where he married a lady of some property, and shortly afterwards came to London and settled. Here he was the fashionable miniature painter, particularly on enamel, and he became one of the foundation members of the Royal Academy. We do not know on what provocation, but he had the temerity to lampoon the President in a picture which he sent for exhibition, and also the gentle Kauffman. This brought upon him the anger of the Academy. They rejected these objectionable works, and he then made an exhibition of them with between sixty and seventy of his other works in 1775, but does not appear, like poor Barry, to have met with expulsion for his contumacy. Hone was a clever artist ; he painted in oil, scraped some good mezzotints, and is known as an etcher and as the collector of some good pictures. His miniatures were hot in colour, and wanting generally in refinement of execution and beauty of finish, but they are by no means without merit. He died in 1784. At the same time flourished Jeremiah Meyer, R.A., born in Wurtemberg in 1735. He came to this country at the age of fourteen, and was reputed to have been a pupil of Zincke, though M. Rouquet says Zincke never had a pupil. He was an industrious student in the St. Martin's Lane Academy, and proved himself a good draughtsman. He was appointed enamel painter to George III., and miniature painter to the Queen, and arrived at great excellence. He gave power and elegance to his work by the study of his contemporary Reynolds, and his miniatures please by their life-like truth and expression, added to a quiet refinement of colour. He was one of the original members of the Royal Academy, and died in 1789. Hay ley thus complimented his art, — " Though small its field, thy pencil may presume To ask a wreath, where flowers eternal bloom." 15+ A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. Richard Collins, born in 1755, was the pupil of Meyer. He practised miniature and enamel for some time among the fashionable world at Bath, and for a while in Dublin. He was appointed miniature painter to George IH., and painted some fine portraits of the King and the royal family. He was largely patronized, and his works were looked upon as the gems of the Academy exhibitions. He retired from his pro- fession with a comfortable competence about 181 1, and died about 183 1, aged seventy-seven years. With him Samuel Shelley (and Cosway, of whom we shall presently speak more at large,) divided the fashionable patronage of the day. Shelley was born in Whitechapel, and had little instruction in art. He copied Reynolds, founded his style upon him, and became a rich and harmonious colourist. He was distinguished for his minia- ture portraits, and for his treatment of historical subjects in miniature. He was one of the founders of the Water-colour Society, and died in 1808. We must not omit 2X^0 James Nixon, A.R.A., born about 1741, died 18 1 2, who was appointed limner to the Prince Regent, and minia- ture painter to the Duchess of York ; or Charles Shrriff, a deaf and dumb painter of the same period, who practised at Bath about the last quarter of the last century. Both artists took a first place among miniature painters. Ozias Humphrey, R.A., born at Honiton 1742, was another dis- tinguished miniaturist. His passion for drawing induced his parents to send him to London, where he became a student in the St. Martin's Lane School. He afterwards practised for some time at Bath, and then, invited by Reynolds, returned to London. In 1766 he exhibited a miniature at the Spring Gardens Exhibition, which was greatly extolled, and was purchased by the King, who presented him with 100 guineas, and gave him commissions to paint the Queen and other members of the royal family. He continued to practise his art with increasing success till 1772, when an accident caused so severe an injury that he travelled in Italy for his recovery, and made, during five years, a study of the great works there. Returning in 1777, he wished to try historic art ; but neither in that, nor in his portraits in oil, did he meet with the success secured by his early miniatures. He was elected an A.R.A. in 1779. He embarked for India in 1785; and visiting the different provmces, painted the distinguished native princes, nabobs, and others. Compelled to return in 1788 by failing health, he resumed miniature pamtmg in London. He again found plenty of employment, and in 1 79 1 was elected an R.A. ; but his health was exhausted, his eyesight mipaired, and, though after some rest, he was enabled to resume his pro- fession in the less minute manner of crayon drawings, which he followed very successfully till 1797, his eyesight then suddenly and finally failed. His mmiatures, before those of any other, remind us of the excellences THE SCHOOL OF MINIATURE PAINTERS. 1 55 And graces' of Reynolds. He excelled in sweetness of colour and in expression, and both in miniature and crayons he displayed the greatest taste, and was deemed the head of his profession for many years. He d^ed in 1810. Richard Cosway, R.A., was a hero of another class, a genius of another feather. Gossip of him is still rife, and the maccaroni minia- ture painter, quack, charlatan, or by whatever epithet he has been assailed by jealous caricaturists or envious rivals, has never been denied the title of an artist of the first rank. He was born in 1740, at Tiverton, where his father was master of the public school ; and showing a fixed attachment to drawing, he was sent to London, and became the pupil of Hudson. He was at the same time a student at the St. Martin's Lane School, and afterwards at the Royal Academy. His abiUties soon gained him notice. He had formed his taste by a careful study of the antique, and drew with freedom and elegance. He began life as a teacher in Parr's Drawing School, and drew heads for the shops, and fancy miniatures, not always of the most chaste class, for snuff-boxes j but his prominent abilities soon found him higher employment, and he rose rapidly to be the miniaturist of his day — his works not fashionable merely but the fashion itself. He was celebrated for his small whole-lengths ; the figure tastefully drawn in pencil, in a manner entirely original, and in a sketchy style of easy elegance, the face carefully and usually highly finished in colour. Thus he drew all the beauties of the day, and, it is said, all the affianced brides. His minia- tures on ivory were exquisitely wrought ; they excel in finish, grace, colour and, above all, in expression ; they never fail to charm, and are still as deservedly prized as by their first possessors. But his ideal went beyond his sitter,' and he added a beauty and grace of his own, which, while it detracted from the accuracy of his likeness, was, nevertheless, an error ~on the right side— a fault which was readily overlooked or forgiven. His talent and great reputation gained him an early admission to the Academy. He was elected an A.R.A. in 1770 and an R. A. in 17 71. In person, Cosway was not only little, but mean. He assumed great airs, and his vanity tempted him to deck himself in portraits ipse pinxit, in the most ludicrously gorgeous costume. Aiming also at a luxurious manner of life, his house, and especially his studio, was filled with costly works of art, jewels, china, silks, gems, and gewgaws of every description, and was the resort of idle fashion and rank, including the Prince Regent himself, whose favourite beauties Cosway had painted and flattered, and of whose favour and intimacy he boasted. His wife was a congenial helpmate, and by her talents, beauty, and great musical abilities she added eclat to the splendour of his crowded parties. Maria Cosway was the daughter of an English hotel-keeper at 156 A CENl-URY OF PAINTERS. Florence, and claims our notice on her own merits as a miniaturist and a painter. Nagler, who gives a long description in the most stilted language of her personal charms, her talents,, and her paintings, says, " the English galleries are full of her exquisite works," and then turns to Richard Cosway as " husband of the foregoing ! " Without joining in such high-flown opinions, we must admit that she was certainly a clever artist; she painted miniatures well, but not professionally; she also painted both for Boydell's Shakspeare and Macklin's Poets, and exhibited several compositions, which were of much merit, and were well engraved ; of her character it is more difficult now to speak. She has been called a splendid specimen of humanity, and is said to have run away from her husband. She certainly joined in all her husband's vain extravagance, and the pair were the wonder and whisper of the town. For a time she resided in Paris in much gay luxury, and finally abandoned her husband in 1804, to become the superior of a religious house at Lyons, and only returned to England after the lapse of many years, in time to erect a monument to his memory. Of him we have only to add that, with age, his eccentricities and vanities increased. He believed in Swedenborg, and in animal magnetism. He held conver- sations with more than one person of the Trinity, and conversed with his wife, who was absent in Mantua, through some peculiar medium or ad- ditional sense. Whether he acted the charlatan in all this, or believed himself inspired — most probably the former — he at last professed to be able to raise the dead ; and he asserted to his niece, the daughter of Dr. Syntax Coombe, that the Virgin Mary had sat to him several times, for a half-length figure, which he had just finished. He died in 1821, at a very advanced age, having for some years been prevented by sickness from following his profession. Some of our eminent miniaturists have practised their art both in enamel and on ivory ; others have painted exclusively on one only of these materials. Cosway was of the latter class, his practice, if we except his drawings, was confined to ivory. Henry Bone, R.A., was an enamellist, who attained great celebrity in that art alone ; and, as seems to be peculiar to the painters whose pigments are fluxed on metal, he had, in his early career, been engaged in processes where the furnace was used. He was born at Truro, in 1755, and was apprenticed to a china-manufacturer at Plymouth. Commencing life as a painter of flowers and landscapes on china, in the processes connected with that manufacture, he obtained the knowledge which led him on to the higher practice on metal. He removed with the manufacturer to whom he was apprenticed to Bristol, and, on the termination of his apprenticeship in 1778, he came to London, and found employment as an enameller of watches and trinkets, occasionally painting a miniature in water-colour. THE SCHOOL OF MINIATURE PAINTERS. 157 The fashion of enamelling devices on jewellery then changing, he deter- mined to try for employment in works of a higher class, and after much study of his colours and the required fluxes, he painted the " Sleeping Girl " after Reynolds, and then a portrait of his wife, which he exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1780, and which at once attracted public notice. He continued to execute such device-painting as was offered him, and, pursuing his studies meanwhile, was able to produce from his own design "A Muse and Cupid" of a size far exceeding anything hitherto finished in enamel. His works were now held in general estimation. He was noticed by the Prince of Wales (who for several years purchased his best pictures), and was largely employed; he was elected an A.R.A. in 1801, an R.A. in 181 1, and was appointed enamel painter successively to George HI., George IV., and WiUiam IV. He executed in enamel many portraits from his own sitters, but his most valued works were those after Reynolds, Titian, Raphael, and Murillo. He also executed a series of portraits of the Russell family from the time of Henry VII. and of the Royalists distinguished during the Civil War ; and from the royal and other collec- tions eighty-five portraits of the great men of Queen Ehzabeth's reign. These works were of course all copies, and it seems a peculiarity of the enameller's art, arising perhaps from its uncertain, difficult, and laborious processes, that the artist is tempted aside from original effort to seek, though it places him in the second rank, reputation and profit as a copyist of the celebrated or favourite works of the great masters. Of this class was his "Bacchus and Ariadne," after Titian, which he sold for 2,200 guineas. His eyesight failing, and no wonder after such trying labours, he retired to Somers Town. He had brought up and educated a large family, and was reluctantly compelled to receive the Royal Academy pension. He died in his seventy-eighth year, in 1834, complaining in his old age that his artist friends had forgotten him. His works were sold after his death, gready beneath their value, and his collection of Elizabethan portraits, of which he left the refusal to the Government for 5,000/., was dispersed. Founding his manner somewhat on the pencilled portraits of Cosway, Henr)i Edridge, A.E.A., rose to a well-earned distinction as a minia- ture painter. He was the son of a tradesman in St. James's, West- minster, and was born in Paddington in 1768, being one of five children left dependent upon a young widowed mother with only a scant provision. By her he was chiefly educated, and, showing an early pre- dilection for art, was, at the age of fourteen, apprenticed to William Pether (the cousin of old Pether) who was a portrait and miniature painter, and distinguished by his mezzotint engraving. At sixteen Edridge was admitted as a student to the Royal Academy, and in 1786 gained .the 158 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. Academy silver medal and with it the notice of the President, Reynolds, of whose portraits he was permitted to make miniature copies for his own improvement. After a time he laid aside engraving and, continuing the study of miniature, established himself as a portrait painter. His earliest works were on ivory, but afterwards his portraits were executed with much spirit on paper with the black lead pencil or with washes of Indian ink. This manner, however, after several years, he discontinued and worked in water-colours, touching in the figure in a slight, graceful manner, but finishing the head. In such works his finish was remarkable for its brilliancy and truth, uniting richness with freedom and freshness, perhaps acquired by his study of Reynolds. He had also a great taste for landscape art, which he had cultivated in his intimacy with Hearne ; and, in 1817, and again in 18 19, he visited France and found many subjects for his pencil in the picturesque beauties of Paris and the fine Gothic edifices of Normandy. These he drew chiefly with the pencil, but he also made finished water-colour landscape drawings which possess great merit. In 1820 he was elected an associate of the Royal Academy. He was then in ill-health and in a desponding state ; he had lost his daughter in her seventeenth year, followed by his only remaining child, a son of the same age, and his constitution sank under the last blow. He died of an attack of asthma in 182 1, and was buried in Bushey churchyard by his friend Dr. Munro, whose name is so well known in art. Early in the present century, Afidrew Robertson rose to eminence as a miniature painter, and came to be regarded in his day as the father of his art. He was born at Aberdeen about 1777 and was the son of a cabinetmaker. In 1800 he walked up to London to seek his fortune. He was noticed by President West who sat to him for his portrait. His miniatures are correct in drawing, and well finished, though sometimes crude in colour, and have the appearance of being correct likenesses with good expression. They possessed such merit as to attract great patronage ; but they wanted those perfections which are indicative of that true genius given only to the few. He enjoyed a considerable reputation for above thirty years, and on retiring from his profession in 1844, the most dis- tinguished miniature painters presented him with a piece of plate in testi- mony of his merits. It has been said that he might have risen to higher eminence if his love of art had been undivided ; but he was greatly attached to music, and was renowned for his skill on the viohn. He was also a contributor of articles on art to the Literary Gazette, and gave much of his time to the promotion of charitable institutions. He was a member of the Associated Artists in Water-Colours. He died at Hampstead, December 6, 1845. Coming nearer to our own times and to our own personal recollections THE SCHOOL OF MINI A TURE PAINTERS. 159 and friendships, we have to speak of Alfred Edward Chalon, R.A., who for one generation at least held a distinguished rank as the fashionable portrait painter in water-colours. He came of an ancient French family which had left France at the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and had been long settled in Geneva. His grandfather was wounded at the battle of the Boyne, where he served as a volunteer in a French Protestant regiment under William the Third (whose military pass the family possessed). His father, to whom some property had descended, left Geneva on the troubles which followed the breaking out of the French Revolution, and with his young family settled in England. He was appointed Professor of the French Language and Literature at the Royal Military College, Sandhurst, and afterwards, coming nearer to London, lived for many years in Kensington Square, with his wife, two sons, and a daughter. Alfred Chalon, the younger of the two boys, was born at Geneva in 1780, and with his brother was first placed in a large mercantile house, but the drudgery was equally distasteful to both ; they had a desire to be artists, for which their talents eminently fitted them, and with the consent of their father they both studied art. Alfred became a student of the Royal Academy in 1797. He was gifted with great taste and power, and soon acquired a bold vigorous style of drawing. He devoted himself chiefly to portraiture in water-colours, and became dis- tinguished by his genius, fancy, and great feeling for brilliant colour. His full-length portraits in this manner, usually about ten inches high, as well as his miniatures on ivory, were full of character, were painted with a dashing facile grace, and were never common-place. His draperies and accessories were drawn with spirit and elegance, imitating all the vagaries fashion can commit in lace and silk, and though he was not a mannerist, he had a style peculiarly his own. Alfred Chalon was one of the members of the Associated Artists in Water-Colours, a short-lived society founded in 1808, and in the same year he and his brother, with a few friends, established " The Sketching Club," of which we shall speak hereafter. In 18 10 he exhibited his first picture at the Royal Academy. In 181 2 he was elected an A.R.A. ; in 18 16 an R.A. His genius was not restricted to the limits prescribed by the use of water-colours. He exhibited many excellent works in oil, powerfully painted and treated with all the skilled manner of a master in that medium. We have had a difficulty in speaking separately of the two Brothers Chalon, and the plan of our work seems wrong, in that it places even the art of the two in different chapters. Unmarried, they had passed a long life together. They lived many years in Great Marlborough Street, then in Wimpole Street, and finally removed to a part of the old house on Campden Hill, Kensington, which Alfred Chalon, full of pretty conceits, i6o A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. named *' El buen Retire ; " but his brother's paralytic attack following soon after, his friends noticed that these words were removed from the gate, and repainted with the omission of the adjective, from a feeling of too presumptuous hopes, or possibly a presentiment of approaching sorrow. Alfred Chalon was a true Englishman in heart, though his manner was French. He was an accomplished musician, witty, with a keen sense of satire, which, if provoked, found only a momentary expression ; and full of the anecdotes and the gossip of his profession. As a host, he was active to the last in providing for the enjoyment of his friends, and full of expedients for their amusement. Many would join in the expression of Leslie, that he counted his intimacy with the Chalons among the best things of his life. He had been for some time unwell — but hardly appeared less gay in society — when his friends learnt that after a sudden attack of severe sickness, he had died on the 3rd October, i860, aged eighty years. He was laid in the same grave with his brother in the Highgate Cemetery. He had a large collection of pictures, drawings and sketches by himself and his brother, with many hoarded family reminiscences. This collec- tion he proposed in 1859 to give to the inhabitants of Hampstead, with some endowment for its maintenance, but they were unable to provide a suitable building for its exhibition ; and he then offered the collection to the Government, but no satisfactory arrangement was arrived at when he died. A will which was found, was informally executed, his property came to his heirs-at-law — some distant relatives at Geneva — and his treasured collection was sold by auction. Sir William Charles Boss, R.A., who both on the male and female side was descended from a clever race, was born on the 3rd June, 1794. At an age when most children seek their toys, he found his amusement in drawing the likenesses of his family ; and debarred by a weakly con- stitution from sharing in the robust exercises of boyhood, he was led to the more close application to drawing, and was an earnest and preco- cious student. In his boyish days he had gained several of the Society of Arts medals, and no less than five silver medals were the prizes of his student career at the Royal Academy. At the age of twenty he was engaged by Mr. Andrew Robertson, as his assistant, and under this eminent miniaturist, he enjoyed great means of improvement. His ambition led him to devote his spare hours to the study of historic art. One of the Society of Arts prizes which he had gained was a gold medal for an oil painting, " The Judgment of Brutus," and following the same bent in 1825, he exhibited at the Royal Academy a large work in oil, the figures life-size, "Christ Casting Out the Devils from the Maniacs of the Tombs," but his art, if not his. inclinations, lay in another direction, and he soon established a high reputation as a miniature painter. THE SCHOOL OF MINIATURE PAINTERS. i6i In 1837 he was commissioned by the Queen to paint her Majesty's own miniature, and also the miniatures of the royal family. In 1838 he was elected associate, and in 1839, a full member of the Royal Academy ; and in the same year he received the honour of knighthood. Then he was surrounded with distinguished sitters. He confined his work to ivory ; we know of no attempts by him in enamel. In his style we see more indications of his study of' Reynolds than of any other master. He possessed the great power of combining a faithful resem- blance and individuality of character and expression, with art of a high class. _ His drawing was refined and accurate, his composition and grouping agreeable, his colouring of the complexion, hands, and arms of his female sitters admirable, and the draperies, accessories and back- grounds, painted and arranged with great taste and skill. We should add that, amid all his engagements, his dormant passion was revived by the cartoon competition in 1843; and that for his "Angel Raphael discoursing with Adam and Eve," which he sent in anonymously, he was awarded one of the extra premiums of 100/. Sir William Ross was of amiable and simple manners, true to all, without offence, always show- ing the most loyal attachment to art and its professors. As a bachelor, he passed a quiet, uneventful, and successful hfe ; ready at all times to do any act of charity, or to assist in any good work. About the beginning of 1858 he was overcome by a gradual attack of paralysis, from which he partially raUied, but after a relapse he died on the 20th January, i860, in his 66th year. He rests in the cemetery at Highgate. Our chapter must conclude with Robert T/iorburn, A.R.A., who, less fortunate than his predecessors, lived to see miniature art nearly extinct. Ross on his death-bed bewailed the fact " that it was all up with minia- ture painting," being in this wiser than Alfred Chalon, who is said to have replied to the Queen when she remarked to him that photography would ruin his profession, "Ah, non, Madame, photographic can't flattere." There can be no doubt however that photography has for the present superseded miniature painting in this country. Thorburn was born in 1 81 8 at Dumfries, and studied his art first in Edinburgh and then in the Royal Academy Schools. His miniatures are often on a large scale, and he frequently painted portrait groups. His colouring though fresh was a little inclined to be heavy, but his execution was refined and his compositions were graceful and dignified. He took care to adapt his background to his sitters, and to place them in appropriate attitudes. His work was much admired in Paris, where he gained a gold medal at the Universal Exhibition of 1855. He was elected an associate of the Academy in 1848, and resigned his membership in 1885, dying the 3rd of November of that same year at Tunbridge Wells. M CHAPTER XV. BOOK ILLUSTRATORS AND DESIGNERS. The painter's art in its early dissemination received powerful aid from that of the engraver; and the painter and engraver stood in nearly the same relation towards each other as the poet and the painter, for Raphael and Rubens may be said to owe as much of their wide-spread fame to the one, as Dante and Milton to the other. Painting and engraving have also been frequently practised with success by the same individual, both on the first dawning of art here, and down to our own day. The most renowned painters also have practised etching— so peculiarly a painter's art — and dating from the discovery of mezzotint, we are repeatedly told of our painters, in the language of the last century, that " they scraped a bit." Some of the earliest books printed were of a religious character, and, following the missal style, some of the first illustrations of printed books were repetitions on wood of the early illuminators' art, occasionally tinted with colour. Such were soon followed by portrait-frontispieces, sometimes surrounded by allegories. William Faithorne (b. i6_i6, d. 1 691) drew from the life some of the many interesting portraits which we owe to his graver; so did also David Loggan (b. 1630, D. 1693), of whom Dryden, in his satire on a would-be poet, said, — "And at the front of all his senseless plays Makes David Loggan crown his head with bays." Robert White (b. 1645, d. 1704) was the pupil of Loggan, and a notable example of the union of the painters' with the gravers' art, in works deemed of great merit in his day, which have not lost favour in ours. These men, and their less known contemporaries, produced portraits on copper, frequently most carefully and elaborately finished with the etching point, and as is recorded upon them " ad vivum," which have BOOK ILLUSTRATORS AND DESIGNERS. been carefully sought out in succeeding generations by the enthusiastic art-collector and antiquary, till rare frontispieces torn from valueless books have found greedy purchasers at prices which might have stirred the artists in the graves where they have so long lain. Coeval with the portrait-frontispiece, though commencing at a later period, were the topographical views, and other subjects, chiefly stimu- lated by antiquarian research, and usually both drawn and engraved by the same artist, but rarely with much merit : objects of jiatural history followed, botanical specimens, insects, birds and beasts. These were mere accessories necessary to the elucidation of the subjects to which they related, not art-illustrations of the thoughts of the poet, the in- ventions of the novelist, or the great events of the historian. Hogarth, having executed some small commissions for booksellers, which did not go much beyond diagrams, completed, in 1726, a set of small designs for an edition oi Hudibras, which, so far as we can discover, were the first book illustrations of story and character, and the beginning of a new art. His example was soon followed by his genial friend Frank ffayma?i, who enjoyed the reputation of being our best history painter, and of having established the practice of book illustration. He made designs for Moore's Fables, Congreve's Flays, Newton's edition of Milton, Han- mer's Shakspeare, and Smollett's Doti Quixote, and in conjunction with Nicholas Blakey, with whom he was also associated in some other under- takings, for Pope's works. Hayman's designs had much merit. They showed humour and character, and were well composed, though they were slight and sketchy, and smacked of a French origin. Samiiel Wale, F. A. (d. 1786) was a follower and imitator of Hayman. He found employment chiefly as a book illustrator, and is only re- membered by such designs. Benri Gravelot, educated in Paris, a designer by profession, an engraver of necessity, was a book illustrator, and a caricaturist to boot, who worked hard while here, and returned to France with a fortune. John Vatiderbanck, who was born and bred in England, engaged in the same pursuit, and designed among other works for Lord Carteret's translation of Don Quixote. To these we must add Joseph Highmore (b. 1692, d. 1780), who illustrated his friend Richard- son's Fainela, and painted his portrait, which hangs, or did so until lately in Stationers' Hall. Bell's well-known edition of the British poets, which extended to one hundred and nine duodecimo volumes, was begun in 1778, and was followed by his British Theatre, and his Shakspeare ; of these works the miniature illustrations were a prominent feature, and no doubt con- tributed to their success. The art of the designer became a fashion. Cipriani, F.A., and Angelica Kauff77ian, F.A., of whom we have already spoken, were mainly employed by the publishers, and their M 2 1 54 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. works lent some taste and elegance to design. Wmiam Hamilton R A. 17^1 D 1801), was also extensively employed by Boydell, Mackhn, and Bowyer His best works were designed for their publications. With him we may also class Fra7icis Wheatley, R.A. (b. i747> d. 1801). His forte lay in landscape with rustic figures, treated with taste, but marked by an over-refined prettiness. William Blake, engraver, painter, poet, and we might add, _prmter, was the son of a respectable hosier. He was born in London in 1757, and died in 1827, finding his resting-place in an unknown common erave in the great Bunhill-Fields burial ground. He was at first in- tended for his father's business, but as a child he gave signs of a restless eenius At an early age he attempted both poetry and designing, and, fhat an attachment to such pursuits might not be altogether thwarted, he was apprenticed to Basire, the engraver, second of the name. His love of poetry did not lead him astray ; he was careful to attain a mastery of the engraver's art, though he repudiated the love of money and declared that his business was "not to gather gold, but to make glorious shapes, expressing god-hke sentiments," and to this he surely devoted himself. By his labour during the day with his graver he gained a bare subsistence, while his nights were given to the realization of his dreams with his pen and his pencil. At the age of twenty-six he married, and the necessity arose for the greater use of his graver In his engravings he was minute and painstaking ; his drawing good, his line pure and true. His works are sometimes marked by mmute finish at others left in a state of unfinish, apparently from caprice, or as though he did not care to go further than the realization of his idea. Jrom the termination of his apprenticeship till 1782, and occasionally afterwards, he was employed in engraving for book illustrations chiefly from some of Stothard's earliest designs, but in some instances from his own It is as a designer and painter, however, not as an engraver, that William Blake falls within the scope of our work. In 1791, six plates designed and also engraved by him, were published as illustrations of Mary Wollstonecroft's Tales for Children; and in 1793, plates for an ex- pensive edition of Gays Fables, published by Stockdale. 1 hese designs have a natural air of original simplicity, with sonietimes a peculiar touch of wildness, as in the " Father Beside his Dead Children in Jail in the Tales for Children, upon whose youthful minds we are told it left an impression of pained dreamy fear. . . At this time Blake, following the wild promptings of his own imagina- tion began those mysterious compositions of which he was at once the 'poet, painter, and engraver. Taught by necessity he invented a process of his own, though he alleged it was revealed to him in a vision By drawing on copper with a medium which resisted acid, he obtained BOOK ILLUSTRATORS AND DESIGNERS. 165 a raised design. From this he was enabled to print both the design and his closely written poetry, which covers some entire pages, and in others, crowds round his figured imaginings, filling every cranny upon his copper. These works, aided by his wife, he pulled off at a common printing press and then tinted. His colouring is produced with the commonest pigments, probably prepared by himself,— Dutch pink, ochre and gamboge, blue, red, and green. Sometimes he has neglected to reverse part of the lettering on his plates, and it prints backwards : occasionally a principal figure has been printed both ways by transfer- ring, and with a dark or light background is made to serve for two designs. The engravings themselves produced by this process were rude in character, and the outlines thick and crude, nevertheless the effect is singularly pictorial. In this manner he completed his Songs of Innocence, and Songs of Experience, which contain some most beautiful ideas both in design and poetry ; and the plates for which are very refined and lovely in colour. These were followed by his America, a Prophecy. Unbalanced minds are always disturbed by great events, and this latter work arose out of the excitement which attended the breaking out of the American Revolution ; as a rhapsody, it is altogether incomprehensible, and it would be impossible to look at it as the pro- duction of a sound intellect. His Europe, a Prophecy followed in 1794, full of diseased horrors, from the grand wreathed serpent, which forms the title, to the illustration of "Famine," -a father and mother preparing the cauldron to cook their dead child, which lies stretched out at their feet. Blake's most mad, most strange imaginings, were pubHshed in 1804, Jerusalem, the Emanation of the Giant Albion, dated South Molton Street — Bedlam might have been more appropriate. This poeni, with occasional illustrations, runs over one hundred pages, closely engraved in a small script hand. Blake says of it, "To the public, after my three years' slumber on the banks of the ocean, I again display my giant forms to the public ; my former giants and fairies having received the highest reward possible. ... I cannot doubt that this more con- solidated and extended w£)rk will be as kindly received. ... I also hope that the reader will be with me, wholly one in Jesus our Lord," and then he concludes with these obscure lines, — " Even from the depths of hell, his voice I hear Within the unfathomed caverns of my ear ; Therefore I print, nor vain my types shall be, Heaven, earih, and hell, henceforth shall live in harmony." It seems that Blake's most disordered dreams found their expression in the process he had invented, and he probably flew to this process when i66 A CENTUR V OF PAINTERS. in his excited moods, as the means of rapidly embodying his heated ideas. Certainly he thus traced his wildest and most incomprehensible forms, in extravagant and often impossible action — a map of muscular development. On the other hand, his best thoughts are represented with his graver — perhaps the early associations connected with the toil of his 'prentice years, and the process of patient labour which its use in- volves, may have assisted to temper the artist's impetuous fancy — and we would rather speak of his genius in reference to the works he en- graved in a pure manner ; they are also the best known : the Young's Night Thoughts^ an uncompleted work commenced in 1797, of which every page was a design, the type forming the centre ; and Blair's Grave, published 1804-5. The daring fertility of Blake's invention will be shown by his own description of the subjects in the former poem. What other artist has attempted such a theme as " The Universal Empire of Death characterized by his plucking the Sun from his sphere " — a striding figure of death, trampling under each gristly foot a crowned head, and, with one hand impetuously seizing the sun, represented as a shaded globe giving light, and the other hand grasping his dart? ; or "A Personification of Thunder, directing the adoration of the Poet to the Almighty in Heaven " ? Here the head and hand only of a fearful figure in human form are seen surrounded by lightning, and on a corner of earth, the poet. We quote only one more, where all are of the same character, "A Personification of Truth, as she is represented by the Poet, bursting on the last moments of the sinner in thunder and in flames." Blake's inventions were hardly of this world. The Creator frequently occupies the centre of his subject ; spirits and angels, good and evil, crowd his compositions ; monsters, and distorted forms of another creation, fill up ideal space. His illustrations of the Book of Job, the labour of his last and ripest years, are of these, mingled with much of the sweetest and most impressive humanity. The work was published in 1825, and comprises twenty-one plates minutely drawn and carefully engraved. Impressed with Blake's ungovernable imagination, they are yet full of passages of great tenderness and feeling. " Thus did Job continually " represents Job, his family and friends, returning thanks to God, and is a composition teeming with poetry. An expression of dignified passionate grief fills "Let the day perish wherein I was born," — the upraised hands of the prophet, the utter despair of the prostrate family, and the gloomy character of the background, all combine in the same sentiment. "The just, upright man is laughed to scorn," is of the same high con- ception ; while " When the morning stars sang together and all the Sons of God shouted for joy," is marked by a combination of grace, sweetness, and poetry ; qualities which are also united in " There were not foun BOOK ILL US TRA TORS AND DESIGNERS. 1 67 women so fair as the daughters of Job," and in the concluding subject, " So the Lord blessed the latter end of Job more than the beginning." These were the works of a great and noble mind. They impress us with Blake's genius. His art was too original to breed imitators, though it was not without its influence even in that day, and we find traces of it in the designs of the period. This influence has grown from the effect it produced on the minds of younger men, such as Palmer, Richmond, Calvert, and Rossetti, who all alike acknowledged their indebtedness to him, and praised his rare talent. A few words more on Blake's character. He was contentedly poor. His industry must have been unwearied, and we do not doubt that though neglected, he was happy when laboriously engaged in realizing the creations of his fruitful genius. His designs alone would indicate a nervously sensitive, irascible temperament, of which proof is not want- ing. His friend, Hayley, the poet, who tempted Blake to live near hi'm for a time in a small village on the Sussex coast, calls him the "gentle, visionary Blake." Yet when irritated, and Blake was not with- out many real causes of irritation, he took no care to conceal his passion, and was not mealy-mouthed either in word or in print, nevertheless he loved little children, and was a most affectionate friend. We know too that his love for a tender wife was as enduring as his love for art. Gilchrist's Life of Blake, to which we are indebted for many facts concerning him, should be studied for a more detailed account of this wayward genius ; the biography is one which brings before us with great distinctness the episodes of his strange career and presents us with u true picture of his character. It is pleasant to write of Thomas Stothard, R.A., with whose works so many sweet memories are associated. He was born in London, 1755, and being a dehcate child, was sent to Acomb, in Yorkshire, his fiither's native county, and placed in the charge of the widowed mistress of the little village school. Of a gentle, retiring disposition, he found a solitary amusement in drawing. He was afterwards removed to a school at Tadcaster, and at the age of thirteen returned to his parents in London, and was sent to a boys' school at Ilford. In 1770 his father died, leav- ing him 1,200/. in the funds. He began life as an apprentice to a pattern- draughtsman for brocaded silks in Spitalfields,and occupied his spare hours in designs from the poets. Some of these by chance falling under the notice of the publisher of the Novelists' Magazine, he engaged him to make a few designs, and though at the time he did not receive further employment, his attention was thus directed to book illustration. He had fallen upon his right path, and he abandoned pattern-drawing. Stothard's first designs were engraved for an edition of Ossian, and for Bell's Poets. The subjects were congenial, and his talents were i68 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. conspicuous. But he showed a higher excellence in the series of illustrations which he now commenced for the Novelists'' Magazine. The subjects which this publication offered were peculiarly suited to his pencil. His tender and gentle nature led him to delineate the affections rather than the passions — beauty and grace rather than the higher emotions. His sympathies found little pleasure in the heroic — less in the tragic. He delighted in such incidents of every-day life as the novel . afforded, and he treated them in the costume of the time with great character, truth, and grace. He has left us graceful little mementoes of court balls and birthday suppers, and we trace his all-pervading taste in every variety of design — slight sketches of popular performers, tickets for concerts, headings for charitable announcements, and drawings for goldsmiths' work, of which last his " Wellington Shield " is a renowned example. Early in life Stothard married, and a wife, soon followed by a large young family, proved indeed hostages to fortune. The circumstances of his wedding bring home to us the artless simplicity of the man, which all his works testify. He took his bride home from the church, and then quietly betook himself to his studies at the Royal Academy ; and when at 3 p.m., the schools closed, he said to a friend, who as fellow- student had sat by his side all the morning ; — " I am now going home to meet a family party. Do come with me, for I have this day taken to myself a wife." If trials were necessary to such a disposition, they did not fail him. One son, a lad of thirteen, was suddenly shot dead by a companion ; another in his thirty-fourth year, was found dead, having fallen on the floor of a church, where he was engaged in making a draw- ing for his work illustrating the " Magna Britannia." Stothard's amiable biographer, Mrs, Bray, the widow of his son, speaks of him " as the greatest historical painter this country ever pro- duced." While not yielding to the highest api)reciation of Stothard's genius, we cannot concur in this eulogium. The bent of Stothard's own mind would not have led him to sacred, or even to historical subjects ; his conceptions were not of the severe character such require, and his works of this class are wanting both in expression, and in elevation of character. Again he wanted individuality, particularly in his women. His beauty, perfect as it is, is of one conventional type. The Royal Academy was not slow to recognize Stothard's talents. He was elected associate 1791 and full member 1794. His habit of study did not lead him to make elaborate drawings from the figure ; he chose rather to make slight sketches of the model from several points of view. He was a close observer of nature, but felt cramped by the stiffness of the posed model, and strove rather to attain motion and grace, relying upon the truth of the first impression. He had a catholic love of art, BOOK ILLUSTRATORS AND DESIGNERS. 169 (and as recollections of Raphael, Rubens, Watteau, and other artists possessed his mind, we may trace the reflex of their influence on his work, but without loss of his originality. His larger works in oil do not equal his drawings. His designs have been estimated to amount to 4,000. Stothard died in 1834, and the venerable artist has left an additional picture in our minds, when in his last years, deaf and feeble, he was occupied in his evening duties as librarian at the Royal Academy. There bending over some book of prints, with many unconscious sighs and moans, his unsteady hand was unable to pour out the cup of tea in which he found a solace, yet even then, retiring into the recess of the window, he would, from time to time, occupy his pencil for a few moments, in the realization of some thought, in a slight but still elegant and graceful sketch. Among the contemporaries of Stothard, pursuing the same walk in art, we must notice John Hamilton Mortimer, A.R.A., if only for the great reputation which he enjoyed at the commencement of his career. He was born at Eastbourne in 174T, and, coming to London to study, acquired a knowledge of the figure and became a good draughtsman. He painted three or four large historical compositions which attracted great notice, and in competition with Romney, in 1764, he gained the Society of Arts premium of one hundred guineas. He was looked upon as of much promise. Of a strong frame and handsome person, he affected a style of dress beyond his station, made acquaintance with some of the so-called wits upon the town, and, falling into glaring irregularities, ruined his health and neglected his art. His works in oil were badly painted, heavy and disagreeable in colour, and he abused the hours which should have been devoted to his improvement. His best works were his drawings ; they could be sketched off with less study, and did not much vary in subject ; his favourite imaginings were strained imitations of Salvator Rosa— banditti, monsters, and such like. Mortimer is an example of talents abused and good intentions adopted too late. He had married a clever, respectable yoimg girl, to whom he had been long attached ; he was beginning t03 lead a new life, devoting himself to his art ; and had just gained his election as an associate of the Royal Academy in November, 1778, when . shortly after he was seized with fever, under which his broken-down constitution succumbed, and he died in February, 1779, leaving little more than a name to the art of his country. Of the painters to whom the new taste for book designs gave employ- ment, while their works added a character to the pubhcations of the time, we must distinguish two or three other artists. Thomas Kirk, who gained an early reputation as designer, miniature painter, and engraver, produced a few pastoral designs, and was noted for the elegance of his A CENTUR V OF PAINTERS. female figures. His chief works were for dock!?, Poets^ but his career, in art was short yet of much promise. He died of consumption in November, 1797. Richard Westall, R.A.{b. 1765, d. 1836) has already been mentioned as a water-colour painter. He made many designs for books, and has been characterized as "great in little things." In such, his art seems truly to have found its best development. His illustrations for the Bible and the Prayer- Book were greatly admired, and so far suited the public taste as to become very popular, and he made money, though he afterwards lost his savings by traffic in the works of the old masters. His female ideal, with great sameness, had great prettiness ; his males partook too much of the same character ; they sadly lacked the manliness of the heroes they represented, and in both sexes the mannerism of the artist was always apparent. His brother, William Westall, A.R.A., who died in 1850, also found employment as a designer, chiefly in landscape, which he rendered with great fidelity and skill. Robert Smirke, R.A. (r.. 1752, D. 1845) is better known as a designer than as a painter, for though he painted many works from the poets and dramatists, they were designed with a view to engraving, and were most of them engraved ; he also made many book designs. His best works possess a quiet refine- ment of original humour. Thomas Uivins, R.A.., born in 1782, was apprenticed to an engraver, but quitting the graver on the end of his apprenticeship, he entered the Royal Academy as a student and became a designer for books, occasion- ally painting portraits. His works had been mostly in water-colour, and in 1808, he was elected an associate of the Water-Colour Society, and in the following year a full member. The drawings he exhibited at the society were frames of designs suitable for book illustration, and rustic figures. His contributions to the Royal Academy were of the same class, together with portraits. His employments, not his own will, seem to have shaped his career, and his works are conspicuous in the book illustrations of this time. In 1818 he suddenly resigned his membership and his office of secretary in the Water-Colour Society. An officer of the Society of Arts for whom Uwins was security became a defaulter, and greatly to the hindrance of his professional advancement, he devoted himself to the drudgery of his art till he had honourably fulfilled his obligations. He visited Edinburgh and was successful in portraiture, chiefly in the chalk manner. In 1824 he went to Italy, where he remained till 183 1, gathering the materials for his future new career. Up to this time, as we have shown, Uwins was a book-illustrator, and painted portraits when sitters offered. He did not seek re-admission to the Water-Colour Society, and its exhibitions are closed to the works of non-members. For seven years his labours had not been seen in our exhibitions, and now, when approaching his fiftieth year, he began to BOOK ILLUSTRATORS AND DESIGNERS. 171 exhibit on the walls of the Royal Academy a series of pictures, whose inspirations were all of Italy, and at once established his reputation as a painter, emancipating his art from the toils of his early life. His merits were at once acknowledged, he was elected an associate of the Royal Academy in 1833 and an academician in 1838. Further honours were in store for him. The Queen appointed him surveyor of her Majesty's pictures in 1845, national pictures were added to his charge in 1847. He died at Staines, where he had sought a quiet retirement, in 1857. But we must retrace our steps to describe a new school of book illus- tration which arose from the genius of one man, far from the metropolis and its art influences, and gave a great impetus to the embellishment of books, both by the original freshness of its art and the greater facilities of its process. The first book designs of our artists were engraved on copper and printed separately— the printing of the type and the designs by which it was to be illustrated being necessarily two distinct and separate processes ; this enhanced the cost, which was somewhat further increased in the stitching or binding by the mode of securing the engraving, so that the introduction of engravings entailed additional expense in the mere mechanical processes. Thomas Bewick, born near Newcastle-on-Tyne in 1753, is said to have re-discovered the lost art of wood-engraving, and though we cannot assume that the art was lost, or that he preceded a French artist in its modern use, we may well attribute to Bewick the merit of having given to wood-engraving, by the impress of his own talent, a development it had never before known in England, and of having employed it in the illustration of books, printing his blocks at the same time and by the same process as the metal type, and thus greatly economizing and facilitating book illustration. Apprenticed to an engraver in metal at Newcastle, who undertook every description of work, Bewick was after a time specially attracted to wood-engraving, which he made his peculiar study. On the completion of his apprenticeship he came to London, but he disliked the metropolis, and within about twelve months we find him again settled in Newcastle, and soon after in partnership with his old master ; and there he passed the remainder of his life. After nearly five years' labour Bewick published in 1790 his Gefieral History of Quadrupeds, and such was its success, that in each of the two succeeding years it was followed by another edition. This work was also embellished with a number of small tail-pieces full of humorous idea and graphic satire. Then gratified by the popularity of this work, he began, 1791, the designs and cuts for the History of British Birds, and in 1797 issued the first volume, comprising the land birds. His repu- tation both as a designer and engraver was spread far and wide, and in 172 A CENTUR V OF PAIi\'TERS. 1804 the water birds followed, completing the work. In these works Bewick carried the art to a higher pitch of excellence than it had ever before attained. His designs were the work of a naturalist and close observer, true to the habits as well as the forms of the animals he represented ; his engravings are unsurpassed, both in the variety and truth of his feathery and furry textures as well as in the general finish of his background and accessories. But we must not say, as others have, that all was by his own hand. He was ably assisted by his brother John, and had the merit of establishing by his talented pupils a school of wood-engravers. Of these Robert Johnson, who unhappily died in his twenty-sixth year in 1796, designed many of the tail-pieces in the Birds, and the greater number of the illustrations of the Fables, which were not ])ublished till 1S18; and Luke Clennell, an artist of great powers, who died in 1840 after a long loss of intellect, engraved many of the illustrations to the Birds, and the majority of the tail-pieces in the second volume. Bewick died near Gateshead, in 1828. Book illustration had fairly taken hold of the public mind, and the publishers did their best to pander to the public taste. In 1823, Akermann commenced an annual gift-book, The Forj^et-me-Jiot, — a German notion, a series of pictures and tales. This was followed by a lival. The Friendship's Offering, and then a whole brood, The Literary Souvefiir, The Keepsake, The Amulet, and in landscape art. The Ticturesque Annual, The Continental Afinual, The Landscape Amiual, Trout's Annual, Turtier's Annual Tour, till the number issued was above twenty, and found its climax in The Flowers of Loveliness, and The Book of Beauty. In these publications the order of proceeding was inverted ; the painter did not embody the thoughts of the writer, but the writer was hired to fit a tale, in verse or prose, to the painter's invention. Art of all descriptions was at the same time seized upon by the publisher : old masters and moderns, countrymen and foreigners, all whose works were within reach ; and the engraver and the writer were set to work to make the book. The issue of the " Annuals " was an event, till a sudden collapse fell upon the whole series, and the " Annual " became a thing of the past. We have nothing to say of the literature of these books, and very little of the art. Many really fine paintings were engraved, and some of the most talented engravers were employed ; but after all, the art was puerile and meretricious, and it is to be feared that the production of engravings of a higher class was checked, and that art suffered while thus held in durance by fashion. Shortly after this another attempt was made in book illustration which claims its place in this chapter, the aims and objects of which were entirely different— art, not gain, was the sole stimulus. Some young friends, studying side by side, seeking no further than to promote art BOOK ILLUSTRATORS AND DESIGNERS. 173 and the love of etching, formed themselves in 1838 into a society, whose numbers have averaged twelve members, which they called the Etching Club. They framed a few simple rules, binding themselves to complete etchings at stated periods, and to meet at each other's studios in rotation. Their meetings were of a social character: a cup of tea, and then business. Works for illustration were next discussed, subjects selected, etchings criticized, and the evening concluded with a simple supper. Their first work, the Deserted Village, when published, secured great and honourable distinction. Her Majesty and the Prince Consort graciously proffered their patronage and their subscriptions, and Thomas Hood wrote a laudatory article on the club in Blackwood's Magazine for January, 1842. . . The club has since published several works, and m addition to many living members of distinction, has had among its contributors who have passed away, Webster, Pahiier, Ansdell and Taylor. The example, not the pecuniary success of the club, led to the formation of a Junior Etching Club, which published illustrations of Thomas Hood's Poems, containing some excellent etchings. The English school can still honestly boast of its great livmg engravers. Our work is confined to painting, so we must not mention the great school of engravers which grew up in England in the latter half of the eio-hteenth century, or go into the impetus which that art has received in our own day. We have only spoken of the two etching clubs, because their members were all painters, but perhaps it is hardly fair as we have written a few words on book illustrations to pass over the names of one or two artists who have created, as it were, a new art by their talents. We would mention George Cruikshank (b. 1792, d. 1878), Hablot K. Browne, (b. 1815, D. 1882), better known as "Phiz," Richard Doyle (u. 1826, D. 1883), and John Leech (b. 1817, d. 1864), who for twenty years drew for Pimch, and deUghted every one not only by the humour of his designs and the truth of his figure drawing, but also by the charm of bis landscape backgrounds given with a few dashes of the pencil ; nor must we pass over Randolph Caldecott (b. 1846, d. 1886), painter and designer, principally known by his quaint and original illustrations for children's books. The progress which this branch of art has made during the last forty years is perhaps one of the best examples of the real advance which sound draughtsmanship and appreciation of what is beautiful in the minor processes of art, has made in our English school. CHAPTER XVI. THE BRITISH INSTITUTION AND THE WATER-COLOUR SOCIETIES, The impulse to promote art which followed the establishment of the Royal Academy was manifested in many ways, leading to one important result in the foundation of the British Institution in 1S05. Its defined objects were " to open a public exhibition for the sale of the productions of British artists, to excite the emulation and exertion of younger artists by premiums, and to endeavour to form a public gallery of the works ot British artists, with a few select specimens of each of the great schools." That these laudable aspirations were not fulfilled may have partly arisen from the entire absence of any man on the committee — composed solely of great people and art patrons — who was capable of giving professional advice on art subjects. The directors opened exhibitions and awarded premiums to which they generously devoted large sums, but their awards did not always please at the time of competition, and have not always been endorsed by the judgment of posterity. Perhaps their greatest failure was in commissioning James Ward, R.A., who had competed with others in sending in a sketch to illustrate " The Successes of the British Army in the Peninsular War," to paint this sketch in a large size, namely " The Battle of Waterloo, an allegory," for 1,000/. Ward was highly distinguished as an animal painter. He had great power of execution, and we have no doubt that his sketch was a vigorous bit of painting, and as such would be likely to allure a judgment not tempered by pro- fessional knowledge. But the subject was not suited to a great work, which would have been, from its allegorical treatment, a trial and a task to Rubens himself. The result was fatal to the judgment of the directors. This great allegory when completed was never exhibited. The directors presented it to the Royal Hospital at Chelsea. Like the Vicar of Wakefield's family group, "it was so very large they had no place in the house to fix it," and it is stowed away on a roller in an oblivion which is perhaps happy for its really talented painter. BRITISH INSTITUTION AND WATER-COLOUR SOCIETIES. 175 But James Ward's powers as an artist should not be estimated by our opinions on the ambitious work which, on the mistaken commission of the directors of the British Institution, he was induced to attempt. He came of an art family. George Morland married his sister. Bred a mezzotint engraver, he early distinguished himself, his engravings possessing very great merits, from their truly artistic character. He became no less distinguished as a painter of landscape with figures, and of animals ; particularly the latter. His great work of " The Bull " has found its proper place in the National Gallery. He had a strong, but peculiar feeling for colour. His style of drawing was vigorous, though imbued with an evident desire to exhibit his knowledge. He was elected an associate of the Academy in 1807, and a full member in 181 1 ; and living to the age of ninety-one years, he died on the 17 th November, 1859- . .... In 1842 the directors of the British Institution ceased the giving ot premiums, as " their effect had not been commensurate with their expectations." They were more fortunate in their exhibitions of " Works of the Old Masters," which, notwithstanding adverse criticisms, were much enjoyed both by the public and the artists. They likewise exhibited the works of Reynolds after his death, also those of the chief British artists of a former generation, and of many other deceased members of the English school. Their example has been since followed with great success both by the Royal Academy and by the directors of the Grosvenor Gallery. The spring exhibition of the works of living painters at the British Institution gradually declined, being much pressed upon by the Society of British artists, and by the fact that the painters naturally sent their best works to the Royal Academy exhibitions. The purchases of modern and ancient pictures made by the directors were few in number, and were presented by them to Greenwich Hospital, to several London churches, and on its formation to the National Gallery. For some time after the winding up of the British Institution, the Royal Academy and the Society of British Artists were the only general exhibitions opened in London. Now what a number of both public and private exhibitions have been started ! The Grosvenor Gallery, opened by Sir Coutts Lindsay, exhibits every spring the works of specially invited artists, and the New Gallery has just opened another annual exhibition with great and encouraging success. Meanwhile numerous dealers' exhibitions compete with one another every spring and autumn for the suffrages of the public. But we have strayed far away from our subject, and must now recur to the practice of water-colour painting, and resume our account of the progress of this truly Enghsh art. 176 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. Year after year the works of its professors had increased on the walls of the Royal Academy, up to that time the only public ex- hibition ; but though their art grew in public estimation, it had only one small room devoted to it at the Academy, where water-colours were placed at a great disadvantage in point of light. A certain number of water-colour painters resolved to establish a new society wholly devoted to their own art. The originators and promoters were Hills, Pyne, Shelley, and Wells, who were afterwards joined by John Varley and Glover ; and after some preliminary meetings at Shelley's house, in George Street, Hanover Square, at which the outline of the society was determined, a meeting was called ; William S. Gilpin, who was invited to attend, took the chair ; and the " Water-Colour Society " was founded on the 30th November, 1804, the main features of which were the annual exhibition of original subjects in water-colours, exclusively the works of the members, who were limited to twenty-four ; the manage- ment to be vested in officers elected annually, but eligible for re-election. Subsequent meetings v\^ere held ; the adhesion of others of the profession was gained, and the society, when constituted, consisted of sixteen mem • Ijers ; all of whom at the time enjoyed distinction as painters in water- colours. Their first exhibition was opened on (he 22nd of April, 1805, with a collection of two hundred and seventy-five drawings, in the large room built by Vandergucht, the engraver, in Lower Brook Street ; the cata- logue containing the announcement that, if successful, it was intended to be annual. The following year the exhibition was held in the same room, and the members then stated that the very flattering reception of their first exhibition had encouraged them to open their second, and that their third would be held in the old Royal Academy Rooms in Pall Mall. Before their second exhibition, they had strengthened themselves by adding to their body eight " fellow exhibitors," the number of this rank being limited to twelve, who were to enjoy all the rights and privi- leges of the original founders. Gilpin, who had presided at the founda- tion meeting, was elected the first president, but he resigned in 1806 ; he had formed an extensive connexion as a teacher, and enjoyed a mere- tricious reputation which he could not sustain. The exhibitions of the society at first proved a great success. Several artists, by works of great merit, had first made themselves known, gain- ing much distinction, and the new exhibition and the new art were the talk cf the town. The profits of the exhibitions belonged to the members, and were apportioned among them pro rata, according to the selling prices, which each was allowed to affix to the works he exhibited, and which were not, therefore, so far, without some check. BRITISH INSTITUTION AND WATER-COLOUR SOCIETIES. 177 The new society was not long without rivalry. Its success had given a sudden impetus to water-colour art, and many talented men who were left outside, were by this exclusion placed at much disadvan- tage ; they had only the condemned walls of the Royal Academy on which to compete with the advantages enjoyed by the members of the society. This led in 1808 to the formation of "The Associated Artists in Water-Colours." We cannot now learn much of the society's proceedings, but we know that though it was not exclusive, it was very short-lived. While the members of the Associated Society found themselves with- out support, the original society saw its interest rapidly declining. The exhibition was much more varied and interesting than it had ever been before ; but the novelty was gone by, it had ceased to be fashionable. The doors were no longer crowded with carriages ; and the works of the artists remained on the walls unsold. Spoiled with success, and panic-struck at this reverse of fortune, the members called a general meeting, at which it was agreed to dissolve the society. Twelve men more courageous than the rest, immediately united. These were Barret, Cristall, Fielding, Glover, Havell, Holworthy, Nicholson, Smith, William Turner, Uwins, Cornelius Varley, and John Varley. These artists then added to their number David Cox, Miss Gouldsmith, Holmes, Linnell, Mackenzie, and Richter ; and the exhibition was con- tinued for two or three years with indifferent success. The seceding members opened in 1 814 " An Exhibition of Paintings in Water-Colours " in New Bond Street, to which they invited the contributions of the artists of the United Kingdom, who were unconnected with any other society ; but, so far as we can learn, this exhibition did not extend to a second year. It is now difficult, when considering the very distinguished artists who were at that time members of the original society, and the fine works they were then producing, to account for its failure. The public were, we fear, unable to appreciate the high merit of their works, and they were patronized for a time as fashionable novelties, only to be neglected when fashion was tired of them. It is well that art now rests on a broader basis, though by fashion, or more frequently the speculations of dealers, artists occasionally obtain a false and ill-earned temporary reputation. The old society was reformed in 1821, and shortly afterwards, Mr. Robson, one of the most zealous members, taking advantage of the alterations at Charing Cross, secured, on his own responsibility, the convenient premises the society now occupies in Pall Mall East. The first exhibition was opened there in 1823, and from that time there has, we believe, been no interruption to the continued and well-merited N 178 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. prosperity of the society. Its peculiar charm has always been the select character of its exhibitions, arising from their exclusiveness. The society, which is now styled The Royal Society of Pamters ni Water- Colours, by its elections has always wisely endeavoured to mclude men whose practice of the art is varied. Landscape painters, animal painters, figure and subject painters are among its members. By its judicious selection it has, since it moved into its present home, gone on m an uninterrupted course of prosperity, its exhibitions always attractive, the sale of the works constant. The only change being the gradual loss of its old members by death, and the rising of a new race, diftering from the old in their views of art, in their methods of execution, their choice of subjects, as well as in their modes of imitating nature. We who live in remembrance of some of the glories of the early exhibitions, may at times feel a hngering regret at the change ; but a candid con- sideration of the present state of the art leads us to the conclusion that, though changed, the talent of the Hving painters quite supports the reputation achieved for the society by those who have passed away. It has always been the policy of the society to absorb the rising talent of the water-colour school, and by this means to maintain Us general superiority : as any new genius arose, he was at the first opportunity elected an associate exhibitor, and finally, a member of the society. But it was also found advisable to limit the number of members ; and as the time arrived when the spread of art rendered it impossible, under this condition, to admit many men whose talent could not be questioned, a powerful body remained outside. This led in 1831 to the foundation of "The New Society of Painters in Water-Colours," which in 1833 took the name of " The Associated Painters in Water-Colours," and which after several changes in its constitution is now amalgamated with a body of painters who exhibited at the Dudley Gallery; its nnme being now the Royal Institute of Painters in Water-Colours. It differs from the other society as it wisely admits outsiders to the benefits of its exhibitions. It is located in Prince's Hall, Piccadilly. Some account of " The Sketching Society " cannot be omitted, and it connects itself most appropriately with the subject of this chapter. Its professed object was the study of epic and pastoral design, with which, in practice, good-fellowship and the love of art-gossip were largely associated The idea arose with the two brothers Chalon and Francis Stevens The society was founded on the 6th January (Twelfth day) 1808 The rules were simple: the number of members was limited to eight, and the president had the privilege of in- troducing one visitor. They met at each other's houses in rotation weekly, during the season, the host of the evening being the president, and privileged to name the subject, which, after a cup BRITISH INSTITUTION AND WATER-COLOUR SOCIETIES. 179 of tea or coffee, he announced, and at eight o'clock the members began their impromptu designs. Then, after two hours so em- ployed, at ten o'clock the members sat down to supper— at first a very simple repast, but, as in all like cases, by degrees so luxurious that attempts were made to restrain it by sumptuary laws. After supper, the pre- sident submitted each member's sketch for criticism and judgment. The first members were {in the order of precedence determined by lot) William Turner of Oxford, Alfred Edward Chalon, Thomas Webster (the author of Elejjients of Science and Art), Michael Sharp, Francis Stevens, Cornelius Varley, John James Chalon, with Henry P. Bone, added at the second meeting. The subjects selected were of the most varied character ; above one hundred were from the Bible. On two occasions the Queen, who felt great interest in the works of the society, sent them sealed subjects, "Desire" and "Elevation." After supper came the criticism of the Avorks, which occasioned many merry quips and jokes in which truths were told, and many grave meanings and true art-judgments were given. The society, in its fortieth year, quietly ceased to exist in 1848. The sketches made at the house of each member in succession became his property, and it was contrary to the rules of the society to ahenate them in any way ; but in the last few years they have found their way into the auction-room and the shops of the dealers, where some have realized large prices. N 2 CHAPTER XVII. THE FOUNDERS OF THE WATER-COLOUR SOCIETY. This chapter we purpose to devote exclusively to the distinguished men who were the founders of the Water-Colour Society. They all began and ended their career as painters in water-colour, and whether as painters of landscape, landscape and figures, or as animal painters, each established a manner peculiarly original, and his own ; each was as unlike the other, and as distinct in his treatment of nature, as in his modes of execution. We do not know how to assign a due precedence, and have therefore spoken of them in chronological order. George Barret was the son of the landscape painter of the same name, who was distinguished in his day, and who was a foundation member of the Royal Academy. Notwithstanding the large income the father made by his art, on his death in 1784, he left a large family in great difficulties, and dependent upon the charitable funds of the Academy. The son must have been very young when his father died. We can find no trace of the date of his birth, or of his first beginnings in art, but he did not exhibit till 1795, eleven years after his father's death. His first pictures were a view of a gentleman's seat in Yorkshire, and a scene on Loch Lomond, followed next year (1796) by a view of Lord Grantley's seat, the horses by Sawry Gilpin, and a scene in the Highlands, the portraits by Reinagle, the horses again by Gilpin. The young painter evidently began life surrounded with troubles, but he continued to labour with patient exertion— and to exhibit one or two works yearly at the Royal Academy up to 1803 ; but in that and the two following years we miss his name in the catalogue. In 1805 he joined the Society of Painters in Water-Colours on its formation, and from that time his chief works appear on the walls of the society, though he occasionally sent a picture, sometimes a painting in oil, to the Royal Academy. He was of frugal and industrious habits, and though poor, he THE FOUNDERS OF THE WATER-COLOUR SOCIETY. i8i aimed more at excellence in his art than at gain. Though an unremitting exhibitor at the Water-Colour Society during thirty-eight years, his pictures did not average fifteen yearly. These were mostly effects of light, sunset, evening, the mists of sunrise, moonlight, and twilight; many of which subjects were sought on the Thames, and in the picturesque environs of the metropolis. He painted a few, but very few scenes in Wales, and on the Sussex coast ; but born in Paddington, he lived all his days there, and seldom wandered far to find his subjects, or to seek his inspirations in art. In 1830, and again in 1831, he painted a subject in conjunction with Cristall, and in 1834-35 and 1836 several pictures with Mr. F. Tayler. His works were classic in feeling, and poetic in their treatment. Even the " views " by his hand are so subjected to the treatment adopted— the hour and the time, the flood of sunlight, the mists of morn or dewy eve, as to render that subject ideal, which in other hands would be merely prosaic and commonplace. Latterly his pictures were mostly " com- positions," in which, if we trace the influence of Claude and Poussin, it is so subjected to the painter's own feeling, as not to deprive his works of their originality. Extended landscapes, with ruins and rocks, wood and water, a few goats in the foreground tended by a goatherd, the whole bathed in the hazy atmosphere of the declining sun ; or groves of massive trees, their dark stems and the deep shadows on the grassy floor beneath them, contrasted with the sunny glade beyond, figures seated in the broad shade, and partaking of the hue of the pervading gloom — such were the themes he latterly delighted in. A certain solemn monotony of colour pervaded his pictures, necessitated by the effect he sought to produce, and this removed the subjects quite out of the region of the imitative or the meretricious. His works require careful conservation, as they are inclined to fade if too much exposed, but they will always be esteemed since they occupy a field the painter made his own. Barret was of a liberal nature, and, struggling with difficulties himself, endeavoured to clear them from the path of others. We well remember in our student days, his being questioned by a group of young artists, in what was then called the Angerstein Gallery where he was copying a picture, as to his mode of painting. He wiUingly explained to them his practice, and declared that no good painter ought to have " secrets." " Every thing is in the painter's feeling," said he ; " without feeling, all the secrets in the world are worthless." He died in 1842, some time before May, we gather, but no particulars of his private and professional life were made known ; a long illness, the loss of his eldest son just growing into manhood, added to pecuniary embarrassments, we fear, hastened his death, and probably the dark A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. shadows by which his latter days were surrounded, prevented any published notice of his hfe. John Varley, also one of the original founders of the Society, was born in London on the 17th August, 1778, in the neighbourhood of Hackney. His father objected to the lad's taking up art as a jjrofession ; he thought it a bad business, and declared none of his children should follow it. But the s'.ars ordained otherwise. John was sent on liking to a silver- smith, with the intention to bind him apprentice to that trade. But the father's death intervening, he managed to free himself from the engage- ment, and was able to obtain some employment — we hardly know what it could be — with a portrait painter. As he advanced in years he grew a strong and resolute youth, able to endure much fatigue of body and mind, and went to work when about sixteen with an architectural draughtsman. Young Varley had to be at the office at eight o'clock every morning, and the work of the day was very trying ; yet such was his enthusiasm for art, and his desire to improve himself, that when day- light permitted, he always had two hours' sketching in the morning before proceeding to his office, the carts and barrows in the streets, and the characteristic figures with which at that early hour they are peopled, forming subjects for his pencil. With his master he made a journey to sketch the principal buildings in the towns they visited, and gained some credit for a view of Peterborough Cathedral. This he exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1798, which is the first time his name occurs in the catalogue. He was one of the class of young painters that met continually at the house of Dr. Monro in the Adelphi, and was consequently early thrown into the company of the two rising water-colour painters. Turner and Girtin, the latter of whom Varley took for his model ; and the impres- sion Girtin made upon him lasted through life, rather leading Varley to disparage the art of his other companion Turner. In 1799, Varley made a sketching tour in North Wales, in company with George Arnold, the landscape painter, who afterwards became an associate of the Academy. Here Varley had found the true field for the exercise of his art. He made numerous sketches and studies of the mountain scenery, revisited Wales in 1800, and again in 1802, and afterwards, Northumberland, Yorkshire, and other parts of England. In 1803 John Varley married one of three sisters who all became the wives of men of reputation. One married Muzio Clementi of musical celebrity, and the founder of a large pianoforte manufactory ; the other, Copley Fielding, the president of the Water-Colour Society. Varley exhibited at the Royal Academy, in 1804, the last time for a long term of years. On the foundation of the Society of Painters in Water-Colours, he joined them, and to their first exhibition, in 1805, he sent forty-two THE FOUNDERS OF THE WATER-COLOUR SOCIETY. 183 paintings, mostly Welsh subjects, except four or five, which were York- shire views. In the following year he contributed many works, some of them styled compositions, many, no doubt, hasty works done as lessons before pupils. He sent in all, no less than 344 works in eight years, showing rapidity and application, but leading to sad repetitions of manner and subject. What wonder that there are so many inferior works by his hand, and that he became insipid and commonplace ! He searched the prints and etchings of the old masters for portions to introduce into his compositions, and repeated his sketches with varied stock-foregrounds. Nevertheless, when he laid himself out to do his best, and when he studied his subjects on the spot, his pictures have qualities that we find in no other painters, — freshness, clearness, largeness of manner, and a classical air, even in the most common and matter-of-fact subjects. In 1813 a change was made in the constitution of the Water-Colour Society, and several of the old members seceded ; but Varley was not of these. He clung to the society through all its vicissitudes and changes. From the opening of the Water-Colour Gallery, Varley ceased to exhibit at the Royal Academy, and up to 1825 no work of his. appeared on the Academy walls. In that year he is again an exhibitor, and with the exception of three years only, he was a regular contributor to the time of his death. One or two of his works were, we believe, in oil. His last work was a drawing from the well-known cedar-trees in the Botanical Gardens at Chelsea, which are seen from the Thames in all their funereal grandeur. He had suffered from an affection of the kidneys, and probably allured by a remembrance of the old trees, he sat down to sketch them and had a relapse. He was unable to reach home, and died in a friend's house on the 17th November, 1842. Varley was a great enthusiast in all he undertook, and, like all enthusiasts, communicated the feeling to those around him : many stories are told in illustration of this ; among others, that being engaged to teach in Bedford Square, not only his pupils, but even the very servants took brush and paper to try their skill at landscape painting. Varley, knocking at the door on one occasion, was delayed a minute or two, and when the servant opened it, the painter found that the delay had been occasioned by John's being engaged, at the moment, washing in a sky at the hall table \ the work did not please Varley, so he stopped on his way to the parlour, seized the brush, and immediately began to exemplify the necessary changes in the work before him. He was very kind to young artists, often giving them gratuitous instruction ; lending and even giving them drawings and sketches. Of the value of this instruction, we have the best evidence in the artists he formed. W. H. Hunt and William Turner of Oxford, together with John Linnell and Oliver Finch, were his pupils; the two A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. former— if not the latter — having been apprenticed to him. A man who could turn out two such pupils as W. Hunt and J. Linnell must have had something to teach as well as a good method of imparting knowledge. From his pictures we should say that Varley was a perfect master of the rules of composition, and applied them in his best works with great genius — perhaps relying too much on them in his mere stock-in-trade drawings. Many pithy sayings remembered by his pupils, clearly in- culcate art truths. Thus his remark that " nature wants cooking," no doubt imphes in a terse way that the painter must not take nature merely as he finds her, but, by selection and arrangement, must make her palatable. Again, he would say, " Every picture ought to have a look-there ! " a point of interest to which the e3'e should at once be carried — something that having impressed itself upon the painter's mind, it was his business to impress also upon the spectator. He used jokingly to say that every landscape ought to compose in the form of a cross ; perhaps implying the predominance of some object in the foreground on one side of the picture, over every object on the other side. Some one, taking him too literally, objected that there were subjects in nature in which this was an impossibility, and made a rude sketch of Waterloo Bridge with the shot tower rising high above it, remarking triumphantly, " Where is the cross in this composition ? " "Ahj" said Varley, quietly, "you have forgotten the reflection in the water," and taking the pencil, he dashed in the dark under the tower, and the cross was complete. He likened the dehberate progression of oil painting to philosophy, while water-colour painting was, he said, to be assimilated to wit, which loses more by deliberation than is gained in truth. Varley was a man of large, liberal, and genial character, full of con- versation on many topics, iDrilliant on all, witty in his command of apt analogies. One who was his pupil writes, " I scarcely remember any man upon whom we might make a call with more certainty of half an hour's refined amusement and instruction;" and his wife adds, "he was very kind to children, taking great interest in their childish attempts. I remember him with his laughing, rosy, good-natured face, telling his stories to my father and to the delighted wonderment of his children." In the latter part of his life, he fell mto difificulties arising from the bad management of his household, and not in any way from extravagance, self-indulgence, or indolence on his part, for he was ever temperate, energetic, and a hard- worker. "Sometimes that he might get on with his work," says a friend, "his dinner was sent into his study. There lay together in a pleasant confusion, 'curious books,' deep twilights, and fruit pie ; a bit snatched now and then in the intervals of very solemn THE FOUNDERS OF THE WATER-COLOUR SOCIETY. 185 talk about tolling curfews, setting moons, or Macbeth's castle in its mspissated gloom." Varley said his domestic difficulties, which would have worried any- other man into his grave, were beneficial to him, as just preventing him from being too happy. The Vicar of Wakefield had a pleasant way of getting rid of troublesome poor relations, by lending them a great- coat or an umbrella, which the vicar knew would secure their absence for the future. Varley had an equally original way of getting paid by rich, but forgetful delDtors, — a way he used to say which saved the unpleasantness of law. " I send in a new bill," said the painter, " making a mistake in the amount of a guinea or two against myself., and the money comes in directly." Every one who has heard anything of Varley has heard of his enthusiasm for astrology ; there is no doubt he was shrewd enough to see, as indeed he was candid enough to own, that his astrology was one of the great causes of his popularity as a drawing master. " Ladies come to take drawing lessons," said he, " that they may get their nativities cast," but there is no doubt also that he was to a certain point sincere in his belief of his astrological powers, and many curious coincidences between his predictions and the event are related by his friends and pupils. We have told how he predicted the marriage of Sir Augustus Callcott, and he seems also to have cast the nativity of Cotman : who, by the way, was as eccentric as Varley, and a man of genius also. Varley calling one day to inquire about his friend, who was very ill, learnt that the doctor had given him over and that he was dying ; to which he replied, " Nonsense, he won't die these ten years," and, being taken into the sick man's room, he addressed him : " Why, Cotman, you are not such a fool as to think you are dying ? No such thing, the stars tell another story," and his friend recovered. Mr. Linnell mentions that one day the stars revealing to Varley that he was in danger from water., he would not go out, thinking it safest to remain in the house ; but, towards evening, he fulfilled the prediction by falling over a pail of water and wounding his leg. A friend introduced a young artist to Varley — an utter stranger — and the painter at once proceeded to cast his nativity: "Some very unpleasant affair must just have happened to you, some disagreement with a man of florid complexion, light sandy hair, &c.," and the stranger looked utterly astonished, for he owned that Varley was accurately describing a man with whom he had just quarrelled. It is said that he was thrice burnt out of his house, and that on one of these occasions, instead of exerting himself to remove his goods, he merely remarked, " The fire is not destined to go beyond the study which it is now consuming." All this serves to mark the character of the man, but it distracted his attention from the proper pursuit of his profession. 186 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. Varley wrote a Treatise on Zodiacal Physiognomy, besides works really- relating to his profession, such as Observations on Colouring and Sketching from Nature in 1830, and A Practical Treatise on Perspective. Varley's compositions have few parts ; the details are passed over, and great breadth and simplicity is the result. Varley's tints are beautifully laid, with a full and free pencil, and stippling is not resorted to, to flatten the masses ; but he said that he got very fine qualities and suggestions in his skies by pumping vigorously upon them ; yet the washing is not apparent, the tints of clouds being generally very sharply defined, and this is the case also with his foliage, which is massive and large, rather than imitative ; he oftentimes resorted to taking out the light in his foliage with bread, but did not use body colour in his best works. He usually painted ordinary sun-light, and summer foliage rather than autumnal tints, seldorn treating sunsets, or what are called effects. He was veiy happy in the introduction of figures to his land- scapes, so as to lead the eye to the interesting point, the " look there " of his picture. He loved to have children around him when sketching from nature, and often encouraged their gambols by cakes and scrambles for half-pence. Thus he never wanted models, and was able to see them at all points of his subject, and to determine where they could most appropriately be introduced into the picture. In his latter years he practised a new mode of execution, which seemed to produce great richness and power, but wanted the freshness and purity of his works in the earlier manner. This new mode consisted in laying down a sheet of whitey-brown over hard white paper, painting the subject richly on the low-toned surface paper, and then rubbing away for the high lights down to the pure white paper ; thus he gained great tone, combined with brilliancy, but it was meretricious and was a bad exchange for his earlier and simpler manner. His art has influenced his pupils throughout life, and it may justly be said that in their practice linger most of those great truths that have been acknowledged by all the best painters ; and which, if they are ignored for a time for mere imitative art, will have to be revived, and again become dogmas if we are to again have great artists in our school. William Ifenry Pyne, another of the foundation members of the Water-Colour Society, is better known by his art- publications than by his paintings. He was the son of a tradesman in Holborn, where young Pyne was born in 1769. He practised various branches of art in water- colours, and was by turns a portrait, a landscape, and a figure painter. In 1803, two years before the formation of the society, Pyne published a work which he called A Microcosm, or Picturesque Delineation of the Arts, Agriculture, Manufactures, ^'c, of Great Britain. It is an oblong folio, containing many hundred groups, and rustic figures, utensils, &c., THE FOUNDERS OF THE WATER-COLOUR SOCIETY. 187 etched and aqua-tinted — a kind of store-house for amateur painters to glean aid from in making up their pictures. Pyne was a great lover of society, and associating much with his brother artists, was full of anecdotes of them and of their art. His publications and the connection they brought him into with publishers, led him to forsake art for authorship. He was the author of a series of chatty and agreeable papers, which he named Wine and Walnuts, and he afterwards projected and edited a clever gossiping serial. The Somerset House Gazette, to which we have been occasionally indebted, and which deserved a longer existence than it was fated to obtain. It was only continued for two years, when it was merged into the Literary Chronicle. Two of Pyne's sons followed the arts. One of them married a daughter of John Varley. Pyne himself died in 1843. In considering an artist's works it is always desirable to know what were the causes that led him to adopt art as his profession. Hence, his birthplace and parentage, the influences that surrounded him in his youth, the master who taught him and the intimates and associates who formed his taste, all his local surroundings have an interest. Strange to say, though so short a time has elapsed since many of the founders of our water-colour school have passed from us, the facts of their early life which may now be collected, are, in most cases, very meagre, while all that relates to them is too often entirely forgotten. Thus it is with Robert ILills, the animal painter, of whom we merely know that he was born at Ishngton on the 26th of June, 1769, and that at school he received some instruction in art from John Gresse, noted for his corpulency. This John or "Jack Grease," as he was called by his brother artists, was a drawing-master of fashionable repute, who taught, among others, the princesses, daughters of George III., and often had the honour of a gossip with his Majesty. We know nothing of the profit derived from his instruction by young Hills, who must have commenced art early in life, since, in 1791, when only twenty-one years of age, we find him contributing to the exhibition of the Royal Academy, " A Wood Scene with Gipsies," and, in 1792, "A Landscape." No doubt, with other artists, he was dissatisfied with the treatment water-colour art necessarily received then, as after this he ceased to be an exhibitor ; and we find his name among the six painters who met at Shelley's rooms to form the Water-Colour Society. He was one of the first members, and was for many years their secretary. To their exhibition he was a constant contributor until 181 8, when, from some cause, he ceased to contribute until 1823. Hills died at No. 17 Golden Square, on the 14th of May, 1844, when he had nearly attained his seventy-fifth year. He was buried at Kensal Green. A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. He was a diligent student of nature and untiring in collecting materials for his art ; his studies of animals amount to several hundreds. Many of these he etched with great skill, and between 1798 and 1835 he published etchings of nearly 800 animals and groups of animals in every variety of action and fore-shortening, treated with great delicacy of outline and careful definition of form. A bronze statue of a red deer modelled by Hills in terra-cotta in 1817, and afterwards wrought by him in bronze, was to be seen in the great Exhibition of 1862, and is a proof how easily the artist who has obtained a thorough knowledge of his subject can overcome the difficulty of expressing it in a material foreign to his usual practice. Hills's handling and mode of execution were totally unlike the felicitous ease of Landseer, or the dashing freedom of Frederick Tayler. His art is patiently elaborated — the labour bestowed evident and undisguised. He never seems to have worked direct from nature, but from his various studies, these being mostly drawings. Thus that clear, truthful touch that is obtained by working with nature before us, is wholly wanting ; in some of his earlier works the handling is less laboured ; in all his latter works the animals — nay, even the backgrounds — have a woolly texture that is very disagreeable. Again, painting from drawings has prevented that attention to the accidents of relief so observable in objects seen out of doors or in sunlight, and we miss those subtle interchanges of light and dark, of form lost and found, that may be stored from repeated observations, but are apt to escape us when working apart from nature. Hills generally gives the characteristic actions of the animals with great truth — particularly of his deer ; these he evidently loved to paint more than any other animal. He often worked in conjunction with Barret and with Robson. The professors of the new art of water-colour painting were mostly landscape painters, but the society was fortunate in numbering among its founders Joshua Crisiall, a figure and a landscape painter, whose works served to give diversity and contrast to their exhibitions. He was the son of Alexander Cristall, the master of a small vessel trading to the ports of the Mediterranean, and was born at Camborne in Cornwall, in; 1767. His mother was well educated, a lady of enthusiastic temperament, full of love for poetry, and for the mythic lore of classic antiquity. She devoted herself to the education of her son, and from her lie early imbibed that classical taste which throughout life characterized his works. A friend of his father's offered to adopt young Cristall, and to take him into his business, promising to leave the boy all his wealth. But Cristall hated trade, and had early resolved to be an artist. This his father opposed, and denied him the use of paper and pencils in order to over- THE FOUNDERS OF THE WATER-COLOUR SOCIETY. 189 come his propensity for drawing and painting. But Joshua found means to pursue his favourite studies ; with his scanty pocket-money he purchased Spanish liquorice, dissolved it in water, and with this colour covered the white-washed walls of his bedroom with designs and drawings, some of which are said to have been very bold and spirited, and to have indi- cated his future excellence. The elder Cristall removed to Rotherhithe, and engaged in business as a sail- and mast-maker, in which he was assisted and finally succeeded by a younger brother of the painter. Joshua meanwhile was apprenticed by his father to a china dealer in the Minories, but the business was so hateful to him that he quitted his apprenticeship before his term was completed. This led also to his being obliged to leave his home and to enter upon a life of great hard- ship. A friend recommended him to Wedgwood for employment as a china-painter, and for a time he worked in the potteries. But the mechanical repetition and reproduction required at that time by the manufacturer, was irksome to Cristall, and afforded no scope for his art or his imagination ; he returned to London, Hving as best he could with secret assistance from his devoted mother. During this time it is related that he seriously injured his health by endeavouring to live solely on potatoes and water, an attempt he persevered in for nearly a year. One of his sisters determined to live with him and to share his difficulties. She got work from an engraver, and by various means they endeavoured to live while he studied his art. He obtained his admittance as a student of the Royal Academy, and not only rapidly improved in his profession, but learned from his brother students many little ways of adding to his stinted income. In the schools of the Royal Academy he must have diligently studied the antique, and entered fully into its spirit. It entirely delivered him from that tendency to littleness and prettiness which is almost inherent in water-colour art, and formed in him the large, square, and simple style which he retained through life, and which gave grandeur even to common forms and rustic figures. At this period he was one of those who frequented the house of Dr. Munro — the practising academy in which so many of our best water-colour artists were formed. Cristall's dihgence and love of his art overcame all obstacles to his progress, and gradually won for him reputation and success. He was one of the six original members of the Water-Colour Society. Though he had studied the figure, and loved figure subjects, he also painted landscapes, marine subjects, and occasionally portraits, so that he sent a great variety of works to the new exhibition. His works were not numerous : between 1805 and 182 1 he exhibited 223 pictures, or on an average about thirteen per annum. In 182 1 we find him invested with the office of president; this he held until 183 1, A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. when he was succeeded by Copley Fielding. Whilst living at Maida Hill, the painter, about the year 1812, became acquainted with Miss Cozens. She had been left an orphan, and brought up by her aunt, a lady who kept a large school at the Old Manor House, Paddington Green, then a quaint and rural suburb. The aunt sent her niece to France, in exchange for the daughter of a French nobleman, by whose family Miss Cozens was much beloved and treated as a second daughter. At the breaking out of the French Revolution, the chateau where they resided was attacked by a revolutionary mob, and the family made prisoners, the ladies being sent to Paris, and Miss Cozens with them. Atter a time she had the good fortune to escape as an American, and, passing through Germany, joined her aunt in England, and eventually succeeded her in the school. This lady Cristall married in 1813 ; her cultivated mind and lively French manners, together with his talents, made their society much sought after, and their house became the resort of the musicians, authors, and artists of the day. Mrs. Cristall, who thought her husband's works not sufficiently finished, urged upon him greater completion, and also tried to induce him to recommence portraits. Her mfluence prevailed for a time, but he after- wards returned to his own special subjects and broad manner of treating them. About the year 1821, Cristall's health failing, his wife proposed a country residence ; and by the advice of their friend, Mr. Meyrick of Goodrich Castle, they bought a cottage in that lovely neighbourhood, to which they removed some time in 1822. There the painter passed many happy years, closed at last by the lingering illness of his wife, whose death made Goodrich distasteful to him. He was childless, and in 1840 he again returned to London, and took up his abode in Robert Street, Hampstead Road, and sought to renew his intimacy with his brother artists and old associates. He had continued the practice of his art, and, with the exception of the year 1832, his annual contributions to the water-colour exhibition. On his return to London he found the art-world astir, and artists of all ages entering vigorously into the com- petition proposed by the Government for the decoration of the Houses of Parliament. Notwithstanding his advanced age, Cristall prepared to join in the struggle for honours and rewards ; but leaving a party at the house of Mr. Rogers, he was knocked down by the carelessness of a cab-driver, in crossing one of the crowded streets of his own neighbour- hood. Although he recovered from the accident it incapacitated him from labouring on a large cartoon, and he abandoned the competition. He removed to Circus Road, St. John's Wood, where he died, i8th of October, 1847. One of his Herefordshire friends, who happened to be in London, watched by his bedside the last three days and nights of his illness ; and at his own request, Cristall was buried near his wife at THE FOUNDERS OF THE WATER-COLOUR SOCIETY. 191 Goodrich. What Httle property he had was left to two very faithful servants, who had lived many years with him and his wife. - We have already said that Cristall was a good draughtsman, and that his style served to give dignity to the practice of water-colour painting. If we cannot wholly free him from the charge of mannerism, it was of a nature to give his work a separate and distinct character. His art was large and simple, and entirely free from prettiness and insipidity. In his execution he made but little use of the new processes by which finesse of execution is sought and obtained. He used his brush with freedom, and laid on flat and clear tints, not resorting much to stippling or washing ; taking out his lights broadly, but carefully avoiding the use of body colours. Thus his pictures are wholly transparent, like those of all the best painters of his day. He was, when resident in London, a member of the Sketching Society, of which mention has been made. John Glover, whose art forms a link between the early practice of water-colour painting, and that which obtains in our day, was the son of poor parents. He was born at Houghton-on the-Hill in Leicestershire, on the i8th February, 1767. Brought up in a small village in the midland counties, there seemed little to lead him to the pursuit of art. He received a plain education, suitable to his station, of which art- teaching formed no part. Yet we are told that, as a mere child, drawing was his delight, and that every scrap of paper he could obtain was filled with his designs. He seemed to have made good use of his school teaching, nevertheless, for in 1786 he was elected master of the Free School at Appleby, and in his leisure hours not only studied art, but cultivated music with some success. His mind, however, ran too much upon art for him to be contented with general teaching, and about 1794 he removed to Lichfield, and gave up all his time to art, and to art- instruction. Up to this period he had painted only in water-colours, but now he began to work in oil, in which he afterwards met with great success. We are told also that he produced some etched plates; but these have not come under our notice. Glover's practice in water- colours was founded on that of William Payne of Plymouth. Many of his early works are laid in with Payne's grey, and the colour is tinted over this preparation. Like Payne, he was tricky in his execution ; his foliage was wrought by splitting the hairs of his brush, which gives a clever lightness and facility of handling, and a sense of ease in execution, but is apt to result in a great sameness throughout the foHage. This manner he continued to practise after the art had advanced to newer methods in the hands of other painters. Like Payne, he delighted in startling accidental effects, and was very clever in introducing into his pictures sun-rays bursting through clouds or through foliage. 192 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. His style seems to have pleased the public, who are soon attracted by any peculiarity or novelty. His works became widely known, and his reputation as an artist was established. So much so, that at the foun- dation of the Society of Painters in Water-Colours, of which he was one of the promoters, he sent nineteen pictures to the first exhibition in 1805. On the restoration of the Bourbon family he visited Paris, extending his journey to Switzerland and Italy, and gathering studies for future subjects. He now almost wholly abandoned water-colour painting, and spread large canvases for pictures in oil, for which he was enabled to obtain what at that time was thought very large prices. His terms as a teacher are said to have been very exorbitant. The world, as usual, thought his peculiar manner was a secret, that, once obtained, the pos- sessor could exercise with equal effect. It was Glover's practice to spend the entire day with his pupil, executing a small work in his presence, which was left for a time for the student to repeat, but was afterwards a further source of profit to the painter. He emigrated to Tasmania in March, 1831, and set up his easel amid scenery wholly different from that he had left ; some few of his works were purchased in the colony and others he sent to England, where it was expected that the novelty of the scenery would prove a charm ; but topography is widely separated from art : it is not the scenery, but the mode of realizing it to the spectator, the mode of presenting it with all the force of the artist's mind, that makes the picture a work of art. Glover's manner had become somewhat stale before he left England, and no adaptation of worked-up effects to new scenes, could revive its interest. His works excited no attention, and found no purchasers in England. For several of the latter years of his life he painted but little, passing his time in peace and tranquillity among his children and grandchildren. He died on the 9th December, 1849, aged eighty-two years. The impression he made in his day was more thtit of successful novelty than of art-excellence, and art was but little advanced by him. William Havell has well sustained the reputation to which his know- ledge of art and his early works justly entitle him. He was the third son in a family of eight boys and six girls, and was born at Reading on the 9th February, 1782. His father was a drawing-master, but the pressure of a large family made it necessary to seek some addition to his small professional earnings, and he engaged in a retail business in the town. William Havell was sent early in life to the grammar-school at Reading, of which Dr. Valpy was then the head master. His father was the drawing-master at the school. His son continued there several years, and gained a good classical education which fitted him for a better position than his birth and family prospects promised him. THE FOUNDERS OF THE WATER-COLOUR SOCIETY. 193 Dwelling in a country town with many sons to provide for and little means of placing them out in life, his father — when young Havell left school— wished him to follow his business rather than to adopt his art. He had felt, as who engaged in teaching has not, the incessant toil, the exposure to all weathers, the uncertainty of engagements, and the small remuneration of a country teacher, and he thought the certainty of trade afforded a better prospect ; but the youth thought otherwise, and sought every opportunity secretly to improve himself in drawing. Being surprised by his father, on one occasion while finishing a sketch, the latter was so much struck with the artistic feeling it displayed that he saw it would be no longer right to oppose his son's decided inclination. Henceforth he was permitted to study openly. He received every help from his father, and was aided to make a journey to Wales in pursuit of his art. He returned with a large number of sketches, and with deep and vivid impressions of the marvellous effects of cloud and air in mountain scenery. We first trace young Havell as exhibitor in the catalogues of the Royal Academy in 1804 and 1805, after this he became a member of the Society of Painters in Water-Colours. His sister Lucy, in a shortbiography of her brother, tells us that in 1807 Havell went to Westmoreland, and that in order to study the scenery thoroughly, he took a cottage at Ambleside, and remained more than twelve months. In this time he painted many of his finest water-colour works. She says that " from this date until he left for China in 1816, he was in the height of his prosperity." Meanwhile he had lived occasionally with a married sister at Hastings, and in 1810-11 came to Reading to assist his father, whose declining health prevented him from continuing his professional teaching in that neighbourhood. When changes took place in the Water-Colour Societv in 1813, Havell seceded from it, although he annually sent one or two pictures for exhibi- tion until he left England. When the embassy to China, under Lord Amherst, was determined on, Havell was appointed to accompany it as an artist, and sailed in the Alceste on the 9th July, 1816. His journal, full of descriptions of character and scenery, is still in the possession of his sister. Unfortunately, Havell did not agree with the officers with whom he messed, and having gravely offended one of them and refused him the satisfaction demanded, his position was rendered exceedingly unpleasant, and Sir Murray Maxwell being detached with his ship to India, Havell was glad to accept his offer of a passage there, and left the embassy at Macao. He spent a fortnight at Manilla and landed at Penang, the scenery of which struck him from its extreme richness. Here he was invited to remain, and would have had full employment for Ins talents, but fearing to lose the good introductions he had obtained for Calcutta, he determined to proceed, and reached that Presidency on o ic)4 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. the 4th April, 1817. In a letter written shortly after, he appears to have been highly satisfied with his prospects ; he was in full employment, chiefly painting small portraits in water-colours, and hoping to realize a purse for his return. He remained in India until 1825, but soon found that if there was ample employment the terms were inadequate to pay the expenses of travelling from place to place, and to mamtam an establishment suitable to his position and the costly style of living. An attack of fever following cholera determined him to return to his native country. Though without the fortune he had expected in the sanguine days of his arrival, he had realized a small sum as a provision for the future. . 1 , 1 In 1827, he re-entered the Water-Colour Society, and the same year he visited Florence, Rome, and Naples. For two years he continued to exhibit works in water colour, but he had begun to devote himself to oil, and after 1828 his pictures are no longer in the society's catalogue ; and in 1830 his name disappears from the list of members, to re-appear m the list of exhibitors of the Royal Academy as a contributor of works in oil, mostly from ItaHan sources. He continued to exhibit there until 1857, the year of his death. After his return from abroad Havell lived at 16 Bayswater Terrace, where his sister kept house for him until her death in 1853. This was a sad shock to him. He had lost most of his early friends by death and absence, and his future prospects, owing to money losses, were far from encouraging. To add to his troubles, his house was robbed, and among other valuables a number of his drawings and unsold works were stolen from the walls. On this occasion the aid of the police was sought, and a knowing detective, who, however, had not added connoisseurship to his other attainments, supplied with one of Havell's drawings as an example, was sent round to pawnbrokers and dealers in search of the lost works. Entering a shop of this kind in Wardour Street, he asked, " Have you purchased any pictures like this lately? " The dealer, struck by the work exhibited, exclaimed at once, " Ah, a fine Havell ! a very fine Havell ! " The detective, whose suspicions were aroused by the recognition, replied, " Ah, yes, a Havell true enough ; but how the devil came you to know that it is a Havell ? " Eventually the drawings were discovered at a pawnbroker's at Paddington, and the artist was more hurt by the fact that only two or three shillings had been obtained upon his best works, than he had been by their loss, notwithstanding its importance to him. His health declined, and having gone to his native place for a change of air too late in the season, be returned in a weakened state, and gradually became worse. On his death-bed he made a gift of what little remained of his property, to two of his remaining sisters, and THE FOUNDERS OF THE WATER-COLOUR SOCIETY. 195 died 1 6th December, 1857. He was buried at Kensal Green, where a simple stone has been erected to his memory. It is for his early connection with water-colour art that we have mtroduced in our work a memoir of Havell. He aided to lift the art out of the littleness of the topographic school. His early manner was large and massive, suppressing unimportant details, and treating the picture for Its general effect. His oil pictures have much excellence, for though rather yellow in hue, and somewhat monotonous, the effect of sunshine IS admirably given ; the picture is usually well composed and arranged while these works are at least marked by a distinct and characteristic style. To complete this chapter we must notice Francis Nicholsoti, born at Pickering in Yorkshire on 14th November, 1753, of a family well known as the possessors of a small property in that neighbourhood. After two visits to London, he settled at Whitby, where he continued nearly ten years. He then resided for a time at Knaresborough, and subsequently at Ripon, and afterwards came to London and established himself as an artist. We find no information as to how or when he began art, and can only trace that he first exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1780 "A View of Castle Howard." / / y» His practice was in water-colours, and he must have made good progress in 1804, to have then been accepted as one of the members of the Water-Colour Society. But his art, though highly respectable, and showing much power, never attained excellence. He published The Practice of Dra7mng and Paititing Landscapes from Nature. He devoted much time to the advancement of lithography, giving up the practice of his own art, and having acquired a competency, only worked for his pleasure, amusing himself with experiments in painting, and the use of different vehicles, and at the advanced age of ninety-one years died m Charlotte Street, Portland Place, on the 4th March, 1844. o 2 CHAPTER XVIII. SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE, P.R.A. Thomas Lawrence, afterwards Sir Thomas, and the fourth president of the Royal Academy, was born at Bristol on the 4th of May, 1769. His father was the son of a clergyman, and although originally bred to the law, was at the time of his son's birth, the landlord of the White Lion Inn, in that city ; his mother was a daughter of the vicar of Tenbury. The marriage of the parents of the painter had been somewhat clandestine, and Mrs. Lawrence was disowned by her family on that account ; she seems to have been a woman of much refinement and sweetness of disposition, and was hardly fitted for the hostess of an inn. In 1772, when young Lawrence was about three years of age, the father having failed in his business in Bristol, removed to Devizes, and was aided by his friends to take the Black Bear Inn, in that town. These were the days when all travelling was comparatively slow, and when all the better class travelled post ; and as Devizes was on the high road to Bath, then the great centre of fashionable resort when the London season was over, the Black Bear, the principal inn, was the resting-place of most of the visitors to that city of waters. Young Lawrence, as a child, was eminently beautiful ; by his father's zealous teaching he had committed many fine passages from our poets to memory, and was able to repeat them with much taste and innate feeling ; added to this he early developed a power of sketching likenesses, and would readily pencil either the profile or full face of those who sat to him. The father was very proud of his child's beauty and precocity, and would often introduce him to his guests to exhibit his talents. Lawrence's biographer tells us that in 1775, Mr., subsequently Lord Kenyon, arrived with his lady late in the evening at Devizes. After the fatigues of travelling — slow enough in those days — they were not in the best possible humour when the innkeeper entered their sitting-room, and proposed to show them his wonderful child ; he told them his boy was SIR THOMAS LA WRENCE, P.R.A. 197 only five years old and could take their likeness or repeat to them any speech in Milton's " Pandemonium." To that place the offended guests were on the eve of commending their host, when the child rushed in ; and as Lady Kenyon used to relate, her vexation and anger were suddenly changed into admiration. He was riding on a stick, and went round and round the room in the height of infantile joyousness. Mrs. Kenyon, as soon as she could get him to stand, asked the child if he could take the likeness of that gentleman, pointing to her husband. "That I can," said the little Lawrence, "and very like too." A high chair was placed on the table, pencils and paper were brought, and the infant artist soon produced an astonishingly-striking hkeness. Mr. Kenyon now coaxed the child, who had got tired by the half-hour's labour, and asked him if he could take the likeness of the lady. "Yes, that I can," was his reply once more, " if she will turn her side to me, for her face is not straight " — an indication of his early sense of correct form, which produced a laugh, as it happened to be true. He accord- ingly took a side likeness of Mrs. Kenyon, of which it is said, that twenty- five years afterwards the likeness could still be recognized. This drawing seems to have been nearly half life-size, and delicately shaded. Soon after this, at the age of six, young Lawrence was sent to school at Bristol for two years, at the end of which time his father's increasing difficulties occasioned his recall. These two years were all young Lawrence was allowed to devote to his education ; he not only went no more to school, but it will be found as we proceed, that he had to employ the years mostly set apart for education in making drawings and portraits. A few lessons in French, which enabled him to translate with difficulty, and the desultory instruction of his father, mostly turned towards reading and recitation, forming the only exception. The painter's education was, indeed, rather carried on by conversation with the many dis- tinguished and cultivated persons who sat to him, or sought his society as he advanced from childhood to early manhood. Even instruction in his art was denied to him. It is said that a Devonshire baronet took such a liking to the boy that he offered to send him to Rome to study, even at the cost of a thousand pounds, but Lawrence, the father, declined, saying that " his son's talents required no cultivation." In 1779, the elder Lawrence was obhged to leave Devizes with his family ; they repaired first to Oxford, where the youth, whose fame had preceded him, found many sitters. The college dignitaries, on their way to Bath, had travelled by Devizes, and many, no doubt, had witnessed the perform- ances of the boy-painter. From Oxford, after a short stay at Weymouth, the Lawrence family went to Bath, where the eldest brother of the painter, who was a clergy- man, had obtained the lectureship of St. Michael's, and the studio of the 198 A CENTUR V OF PAINTERS. younger quickly became the resort of the idleness and fashion of that pleasure-town. His first works were in crayons — his charges one guinea, and one guinea and a half for heads in ovals. At Bath he became acquainted with Mr. Hoare, R.A., who was eminent in this walk of art, and highly esteemed for his crayon portraits, and Lawrence acknowledges having received much advice and assistance from him. The collection of the Hon. Mr. Hamilton, of Lansdowne Hill, afforded him the means of studying — it would appear at second hand — some of the works of the Italian painters. Lawrence made crayon copies of the " Transfiguration " of Raphael, the " Aurora " of Guido, and the " Descent from the Cross " of Daniel de Volterra. For the first of these works, done in 1783, when Lawrence was only thirteen years of age, he obtained, two years later, the silver palette of the Society of Arts. The council would have awarded the work their gold medal had the rules permitted, but this was not jiossible. To mark their sense of the merits of the work, however, they had the palette "gilded all over," a good omen for the young painter. Meanwhile his sitters increased, as did his prices ; and he was in the habit of completing three or four portraits in each week at two or three guineas each. The beautiful Duchess of Devonshire and Mrs. Siddons were among his sitters ; a portrait of the latter as Aspasia in the Grecian Daughter was engraved, and proved highly remunerative. In 1787, the elder Lawrence removed with his sorL,to London, and on the 13th of September, the young painter, then in his eighteenth year, was admitted a student of the Royal Academy. Mr. Howard, the secretary, said, "His proficiency in drawing, even at that time, was such as to leave all his competitors in the antique school far behind him. His personal attractions were as remarkable as his talent ; altogether he excited a great sensation, and seemed to the admiring students as nothing less than a young Raphael suddenly dropt among them. He was very handsome, and his chestnut locks flowing on his shoulders gave him a romantic appearance." Lawrence soon after obtained his wished-for introduction to Sir Joshua Reynolds ; he took with him a portrait of him- self which he had painted at Bath, but with all his self-confidence he trembled as he awaited the judgment of the great president. Sir Joshua was at the moment engaged with another aspirant for fame, whom he dismissed with but negative encouragement. Young Lawrence's work, however, he regarded some time, and with great attention, then turning to him said, " Stop, young man — I must have some talk with you — I suppose, now, you think this is very fine, and this colouring very natural : hey — hey ! " and then began to criticise the work and to point out its various faults. After a time he took the picture away into another room, probably to examine it more at leisure and freer from the observation of the young painter j on his return, he advised Lawrence to study nature SIR THOMAS LA WRENCE, P.R.A. 199 diligently rather than the old masters, and with a general but impressive invitation to visit him often, dismissed him, Lawrence, who at once took advantage of this opening to Reynolds's house, soon became a frequent visitor, and had no occasion to feel that he trespassed on the welcome given him. Lawrence at this time had made but few painted copies from the old masters — and had but little practical study of his art ; being warned by Reynolds of the danger of various experiments the method he adopted was very simple, and he continued to practise it in all his future work. Mr. Shee, afterwards P.R.A. , writes of Lawrence in. 1789 : — " He is a very genteel, handsome young man, but rather effeminate in his manner. A newspaper that puffs him here (in London) very much, says he is not yet one-and-twenty ; but I am told by the students, who knew him in Bath, that he is three-and-twenty He is wonderfully laborious in his manner of painting, and has the most uncommon patience and perseverance. As yet he has had the advantage of me in length of practice and opportunities of improvement. This is his fifth year of exhibiting in London. His price is ten guineas a head, and I hear he intends raising it. There is no young artist in London bids so fair to arrive at excellence, and I have no doubt that he will, if he is careful, soon make a fortune." Lawrence's career as a student of the Royal Academy was a very short one; the Queen and King were both interested in what they had heard of the provincial prodigy. The painter became an aspirant for higher honours than studentship, although much below the academic age. In November, 1790, being then little more than twenty-one, he came on the ballot at the election for associates, and received three votes against sixteen, with which his opponent Wheatley was successful. It is probable that West, who owed so much to royal patronage, and most likely felt satisfied with the superior talent of the candidate, may have used his influence in Lawrence's favour, and have been one of the three voters. However this may be, at the election of the ensuing year, 1791, Lawrence was successful in obtaining his associateship. Honours came thick upon him. Sir Joshua died in February, 1792, and ere the month was out the King had directed that Lawrence, then not twenty-three years of age, and not yet a fiiU member of the Academy, should be appointed his successor as painter in ordinary. The Dilettante Society also, setting aside one of its important rules in his favour, elected him a member of their body, and their painter at the same time. Never, perhaps, in this country, had a man so young, so uneducated, and so untried in his art, advanced as it were per saltum to the honours and emoluments of the profession. In February, 1794, Lawrence, then nearly twenty-five years of age, 200 A CENTUR V OF PAINTERS. was admitted to the full honours of the academic body. How rapidly he obtained employment in the metropolis is shown by a reference to the early catalogues of the Academy. He had not ventured to exhibit there before 1787, in which year there were seven pictures by him on the walls; following out his career until 1793, when he sent six ])ictures, we find he had up to this period exhibited sixty-five works, with but one or two exceptions, portraits, including those of the King, the Queen, the royal children, and many of the most distinguished per- sonages of the age ; a pretty good catalogue of seven years' labours. But henceforth, instead of the second, Lawrence was to take the first rank in his profession, and was to have a great influence on the school to which he belonged. The modes of execution adopted by Reynolds, Gains- borough, and Romney, were to give place to one less painter-like in quality, one of less richness and impasto, more facile, and wherein drawing- was placed before painting, and purity more esteemed than tone. Law- rence began with some slight attempts to follow in the footsteps of Reynolds. The head presented to the Academy on his election has a meretricious appearance from glazing and forced colouring, and shows that the attempt was ill-judged, and not in harmony with his powers. After Reynolds and Gainsborough, Lawrence looks pretty and painty ; there is none of that power of uniting the figure with the ground — that melting of the flesh into the surrounding light which is seen in the pictures of the first president— Lawrence's work seems more on the sur- face — indeed only surface — while his flesh-tints have none of the natural purity of those by his two predecessors ; we think them pretty in Law- rence, but we forget paint and painting in looking at a face by Reynolds or Gainsborough. How vastly superior, too, in painting children. Sir Joshua was to his successor, who had no apparent admission into the inner heart of childhood. His inferiority in this respect — and how- much his children depended on mere prettiness and fashion for their charm — will be felt on looking at such pictures as "Lady Grey and Child," or " The Daughter of Lady Augusta Murray," or " Young Lambton." Lawrence's heads are well drawn, and at times passably well modelled ; but the flesh is flesh colour and not flesh, having the appearance of being painted on a hard ground, such as china, and have a thin and somewhat starved appearance as compared with the works of his predecessors, This poverty and thinness was less seen in his early works than after- wards, when the pressure upon him for portraits became great, and he was obliged to use the most facile means of rapid completion. The portrait of Lady Cremorne, a whole-length painted shortly after Lawrence's arrival in London, which was exhibited in the British Institu- tion in 1864, is an excellent specimen of his art at that period, and we SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE, P.R.A. 20 1 cannot but feel that if he had continued to paint such pictures he would have enjoyed a far higher reputation than can now be accorded to him. It appears to be a faithful, and it is certainly a characteristic likeness ; much more powerful in contrast than are his latter works, and of a far richer tone. The flesh and white drapery are clear and sparkling, without that look of being lately washed which is peculiar to the flesh of his later portraits. Lady Cremorne is dressed in black, with the enormous mob-cap of white cambric (trimmed with black ribbons) characteristic of the period, and assisting to increase the principal light. The action is most simple ; there is no affectation of making the portrait more beautiful than the original, and the robes are exceedingly well introduced behind the figure as part of the back-ground. For this work we are told that he received only forty guineas. When fashion and beauty flocked to his doors and begged to be painted at prices increased twenty-fold, it is no wonder that he was obliged to use every artifice to lighten his labours. We are aware that his contemporaries had a far higher opinion of Lawrence's powers than we have expressed. Fuseli said, " The portraits of Lawrence are as well if not better drawn, and the women in a finer taste than the best of Vandyck's : and he is so far above the competition of any painter in this way in Europe, that he should put over his study, to deter others who practise the art from entering, the well-known line — You who enter here leave hope behind." We have, however, spoken upon our own convictions, not hastily formed. In the year 1793, Lawrence made an attempt at poetic art ; he painted and exhibited a picture from the Te??ipest —'■^ Prospero Raising the Storm." What its merits were we are unable now to ascertain, as the picture is destroyed, and no reminiscences of it remain. Walter Scott writing to Wilkie at the time of Lawrence's death, says of him, " I used to think it a great pity that he never painted historical subjects ; " and then goes on to remark that, like Sir Joshua, Law- rence often approached the confines of history in his portraits. How far this latter is the case may be estimated by those who remember his "Cato" (1812), or "Coriolanus" (1798); or will take the trouble to look at his "Hamlet" (1801), in the National Gallery, and to compare either with Reynolds's " Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic Muse," at Dulwich. But his powders as an historical painter may be judged of by the " Satan Calling up his Legions," which was exhibited in 1797, and after being for some years in the possession of the Duke of Norfolk, is at present the pro- perty of the Academy. Satan is lanky and ill-drawn ; the action of the figure is stagey, the disposition of the Hmbs all abroad, and the colour of the flesh tough and leather-like. There is a great want of style in the drawing of the figure, which seems to be a mixture between the 202 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. living model and the Apollo. It is a large canvas covered with a subject which the artist has failed to make interesting. Nevertheless, Lawrence himself, from some passages in his letters, thought he had achieved success. He says, apparently in allusion to his " Satan," " I have gained fame, not more than my wishes, but more than my expectations." Knowles, in his life of FuseH, speaks of it as " the splendid picture which for a long period was a prominent feature in the collection of the Duke of Norfolk, and which by the style of drawing as well as its tone of colour abundantly proves that this artist would have been equally distinguished for his powers in treating epic subjects as in portraits, if he had employed his pencil exclusively thereon." But this is said rather as an apology for Fuseli's having declined the offer of a place in the Milton Gallery to this great work. And we know that, on another occasion, Fuseli described the Satan "as a d d thing, certainly, but not the devil." Mr. John Bernard, in his Retrospediofis of the Stage, tells us that the boy Lawrence had a great desire to recite Satan's Address to the Sun," which, however, -his father had interdicted. Once when in company he was urged to give it, but on opening the for- bidden page a slip of paper dropped out ; this was picked up by one of the company and read aloud—" Tom, mind you don't touch Satan." It would have been well, perhaps, when he spread his canvas for his great work, that he had remembered his father's inhibition, " Mind you don't touch Satan." Lawrence's practice continued to increase, and he steadily advanced beyond his numerous competitors. Hoppner alone, sustained by his appointment as painter to the Prince of Wales— a prince who, at that time, led the fashion in matters of taste, was able to rival Lawrence in the extent of his practice and in the beauty and fashion of his sitters. From time to time, as already noticed, Lawrence painted what he calls " half-liistory," but which we should call costume portraits ; such as his Kemble in Coriolanus, and the same great actor as Hamlet. Perhaps the costurne portraits painted from the actor may have led Lawrence into theatrical action and forced expression from studying the character on the stage as well as in the studio. Even if it were our province to enter minutely into the lives of the artists who come under notice in this work, there would be little of incident in that of Lawrence. A yearly catalogue of his sitters affords us almost the only subject for comment ; an occasional notice of more or less successful works— of some portrait of a distinguished sitter, or a noted beauty— is all that can be told of most portrait painters. As to Lawrence this is more particularly the case, since his style once adopted he changed but little— he tried no experiments in pigments— he sough' S/J^ THOMAS LAWRENCE, P.R.A. 203 no new methods of execution. He did not travel abroad to examine the pictures of other masters, or to study art for his improvement. Having obtained a good position in the profession, and plenty of occu- pation for his pencil, his life henceforth had somewhat of routine in the fulfilment of his various engagements. The death of Reynolds, fol- lowed in a few years by the retirement of Romney, left a great opening to him, yet he had at first many competitors. Opie was in full practice till his death in 1807 : though his coarse strength of manner in a degree unfitted him for the first rank in female portraiture, yet in his male por- traits he held his own against the future president. Hoppner lived until 1 810, patronized by all who loved the school of Reynolds and worshipped the rising sun. While as to court patronage, even the King, who had hastened to grace Lawrence with the office of Sergeant Painter, left vacant by Reynolds, sat to Beech ey for those portraits which seemed to belong almost of right to the Painter in Ordinary. In 1 80 1 an incident occurred which is here alluded to as having had an indirect influence on Lawrence's practice. He was required to attend at Blackheath to paint a portrait of the unfortunate Princess of Wales and her daughter, and in order that he might lose no time in journeys to and fro, he asked permission during the progress of his work to sleep at Montague House, a convenience that, on a like occasion, had been accorded to Beechey. His agreeable manner, pleasant conversation, and fine taste in reading poetry, together with his intimacy with the Angersteins and other families in the neighbourhood who visited her Royal Highness, introduced him occasionally to a seat at the dinner- table — and on one or two occasions when the Princess was alone with her ladies, he was admitted to read aloud to her, and even to amuse her at the chess-table. The painter, it must be remembered, was young and handsome, as well as talented and agreeable, and the circumstance was seized upon as a source of scandal, which was inquired into by the commissioners who sat in 1806 on what is called " The Delicate Investi- gation." Though the commissioners, in their report to his Majesty George III., attach to the Princess a levity of conduct with Captain Manby, they make no such allusion to Lawrence ; yet it would appear that for some time his female sitters, those whom his art most suited, fell off. Thus in the next seven years, we find the proportion of male portraits to females was twenty-four to seven ; after 1810 this feeling passed away, and in 1815, the Prince Regent, who had hitherto avoided Lawrence's studio, sat to him, and, pleased with his agreeable manners, as well as with the art which Lawrence certainly possessed of making his sitters ladies and gentlemen — at once gave him full employment in Court orders. In 1 814, as soon as the Continent was open to travellers, Lawrence 204 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. hastened to Paris to see the wonderful collection in the Louvre, before it was dispersed. Writing to his friend, Miss Crofts, he says : — " Had I delayed my journey one day longer, I should have lost the view of some of the finest works of this gallery, the noblest assemblage of the efforts of human genius that was ever presented to the world." His stay, how- ever, on this occasion, was but a short one ; he was recalled home by order of the Prince Regent on important business. The Prince was desirous that the kingly personages, the statesmen, and military officers who had aided in the restoration of the Bourbon dynasty should sit for their portraits, to form a commemorative gallery — and that the oppor- tunity of their expected visit to London should be taken advantage of for this purpose. Such a commission was highly honourable to Law- rence ; it raised him to the summit of his fortunes, and if satisfactorily accomplished, was likely to give him a European reputation. His whole time on his return was taken up in watching for the short irregular sittings which he could obtain, during the intervals of leisure from feast and festival, from the Emperor of Russia, the King of Prussia, Prince Blucher, and the Hetman of the Cossacks ; but the length of their visit did not admit of the scheme being fully carried out on this occasion, and shortly afterwards the country was again plunged into war by the flight of Napoleon from Elba. In the April of 1815, the Regent, pleased with the present success, conferred on Lawrence the honour of knighthood. The Prince had now fully accepted Lawrence as the Court painter, and although some time intervened before the full execution of his project, it was not forgotten, but simply postponed to a more fitting opportunity. Meanwhile, the most distinguished persons of the time, the court beauties, and the military officers who had taken part in the crowning victory of Waterloo, sat to the painter — among them the Duke of Wellington, in the dress he wore and on the horse he rode, on that great day — almost the only equestrian portrait by Lawrence's hand. Honours flowed in upon him. Foreign academies sent him diplomas of membership, America vying with Florence, Vienna, and Rome, while the French King, Charles XIL, made him a Chevalier of the Legion of Honour, and our own King relaxed the iron law as respects civilians to whom this honour has been given, and allowed the painter to wear it. The stay of the allied sovereigns in London in 181 5 had been far too short to enable the Regent to carry out his favourite scheme. He felt that the one great act of his government was the pacification of Europe, and the settlement of its divisions after the great war ; and he would not allow his intention of collecting the portraits of those great warriors and able statesmen who had co-operated in bringing about the event, to be frustrated. In 1818, the allied sovereigns, their ministers and councillors, SIR THOMAS LA WRENCE, P.R.A. 205 assembled at Aix-la-Chapelle, to lay out the new map of Europe, and it was thought a fitting opportunity for obtaining sittings from the principal actors, in their intervals of leisure from the active duties of congress. In selecting Lawrence for this honourable mission, besides the influence of his suave and gentlemanly manners, it was felt that the best of living portrait painters would be employed to do justice to the theme. The terms were not especially liberal, but the fame and honour to be achieved were great. The magistrates of the city fitted up for him the large gallery of the Hotel de Ville, a painting-room which he found very suitable and convenient for his purpose. In this room, Lawrence had as sitters the great arbiters of the fate of kingdoms, and received from them such courtesies as the great masters received from the kings and princes they served. He tells us how the Emperor of Russia con- descended to put the pegs into his easel, and to help him to lift his portrait on to them, and compares it with the well-known incident of Charles V.'s stooping to take up Titian's pencil for him. But more substantial honours were the presents of snuffboxes and diamo.nd rings, and the many orders for copies of his portraits from princes and ministers, insomuch that it was said at the time that his year's labours were worth to him more than 20,000/. While at Aix-la-Chapelle, the Prince Regent sent his further com- mands to Lawrence to proceed to Rome to paint for him the Cardinal Gonsalvi and the Pope. Lawrence would have wished to defer this visit to another year, but the Prince was anxious for the full accomplishment of his scheme, and the painter could but obey. From Aix-la-Chapelle he travelled to Vienna, to paint another portrait of the Emperor Francis and Prince Schwartzenberg. His journey from the borders of the Rhine to Vienna was a very different affair to what it is in the present day. He tells us that during eight nights on the road he only slept one out of his carriage. In Vienna new honours and new labours awaited him, and although, as we learn from his letters, the fine paintings he had seen on the Continent had somewhat lowered his self-esteem, the flattering manner in which he was received, and the admiration expressed for his works, were sufficient to elate any man. He reached Vienna early in January, 181 9. Notwithstanding excessive labour, he found it impossible to leave before the loth May. In the interval he had painted four whole- lengths, three half-lengths, and eight three-quarter portraits, besides making twelve chalk drawings. The faces of the paintings were entirely finished, and part of the figures ; every figure being accurately drawn in. No wonder that he was worn out with such continued excitement and exertion, and wrote to his niece : — " My mind and spirits are at times so relaxed and worn when professional exertion is over, as to make the act of taking up this little implement (the pen) a hopeless exertion." 2o6 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. \yhen he left Vienna, his journey towards Rome was very rapid. He again slept in his carriage throughout the route, only staying for a few hours at Bologna to renew his aquaintance at the fountain-head with the masters of a school then far more popular in England than at preserit. On his arrival at Rome he was received with every mark of attention, and lodged in apartments in the Quirinal. He was much pleased with the subjects for his pencil :— the Pope, a gentle and amiable ecclesiastic, with an air of great benevolence; the Cardinal, with a physiognomy full of sagacity and energy. Both were very desirous of giving Lawrence every assistance ; and what with his pleasure in the subjects, and his desire to uphold his fame among his countrymen and others at this seat of art, he produced two of the best portraits of the series which was the object of his journey. During his stay he found time to visit the great frescoes of the Vatican, and declares himself deeply impressed with the great superiority of Michael Angelo over his contemporaries. But it is difficult to perceive that these works wrought the slightest change in Lawrence's style or manner. Before leaving Italy he paid a short visit to Naples, and in the middle of December turned his face homeward. Visiting in his way Florence, Parma, Cremona, Mantua and Venice, he arrived in London on the 30th of March, 1820. He found that many changes had taken place during his absence. The Regent was now King ; and West, the president of the Academy, having died on the loth of the month, the election for the new president took place on the very evening of Lawrence's return. By an almost unanimous vote he was chosen West's successor, and the King, delighted with the manner in which his commission was fulfilled, presented the new president with a medal and chain of gold, inscribed' " From his Majesty, George IV., to the President of the Royal Academy.'' Lawrence left England on the 29th of September, 181 8, and, as we have just seen, returned to London on the 30th March, 1820 ; so that he was absent exactly a year and a half. We are unable to ascertain the precise amount of work he completed in the time ; for if we knew the number of portraits, the state of completion to which he carried them on the spot is uncertain. As to those executed in Vienna, a state- ment has just been made, and we know from his letters, that some of his portraits were so far completed that he carried them with him to Rome as specimens of his powers, whilst others were finished and left with those for whom they were painted. We know also that these por- traits were executed under circumstances that must have occasioned a great strain upon his powers, and that, compared with the time he exacted and the opportunities given him by visitors to his studio at home, the sittings given him for his foreign portraits were much less numerous and less lengthy. S/I^ THOMAS LA WRENCE, P.R.A. 207 He says that the Emperor of Austria sat seven times, the Emperor of Russia seven times, the King of Prussia six times, each sitting averaging about two hours. The Pope, we are informed, sat to him nine times ; but even this is far below the time he usually required, especially if we remember that he completed the hands as well as the heads from his foreign sitters. It is no wonder, therefore, that, contemplating the por- traits collected together in the Waterloo Gallery at Windsor, these works look somewhat starved and poor, having a tendency to decorative art rather than to take rank with portraits by the great masters, or with those of his predecessor Reynolds. Whatever there was of meretricious- ness in his art is here more particularly visible, and although Cardinal Gonsalvi and the Pope are usually spoken of as Lawrence's best works, we do not feel them comparable to such of his male portraits as he was able to carry to full completion in the quiet of his own studio — for instance, Lord Liverpool, or more especially his fine portrait of Lord Eldon. On his return, Lawrence's studio was soon thronged as before, and what with constant engagements to sitters, his new duties at the Academy, and his endeavours to increase his collection of drawings from the old masters, which had of late become quite a passion with him, his time was more than fully occupied. On the loth of December, 1820, Lawrence for the first time presented the medals to the successful students of the Royal Academy ; when it is usual for the president to address a short discourse to the assembled schools : it was on such occasions that the celebrated Discourses of Reynolds were delivered. This by Lawrence was, we believe, not published ; but his biographer relates to us that the president wore a full-dress court suit — an evidence of his attention to the effect of personal impressions which is very cha- racteristic, but this ceremonial costume has of late years quite fallen into desuetude. In the year 1823, Lawrence took a deep interest in the purchase, for the nation, of the pictures belonging to his late friend, Mr. Angerstein ; and the arts certainly owe him a debt of gratitude for his earnestness and effective aid in this national object. During the succeeding years, his life and his art quietly progressed. Working more at his leisure, and giving more time to finish his works, they were more conscientiously painted. Some of his best portraits are of this date. His biographer opens the history of the year 1829 with these words : — " It would be diffi- cult to conceive a man more completely happy or at least possessed of all the means and appliances of happiness than Sir Thomas Lawrence at the commencement of the year 1829." Certainly there was no appear- ance of decay in his powers. He himself says in a letter just after the opening of the Exhibition in 1829, " Perhaps one or two whole-lengths 2o8 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. of the Duchess of Richmond and Marchioness of Salisbury, are the best I have painted ; " and in this, the period of our student Hfe, we well recollect the delight with which the young artists of that day, and the public who were visitors to the Exhibition, hailed the works we have enumerated. On the loth of December, the anniversary of the founda- tion of the Academy, Lawrence was as usual in the chair, distributing the prizes, and delivering a short discourse. He most probably dined with the changing council on the last day of the old year, and, except that he had complained of being overworked, there was no reason to think that the end of his career was at hand. He had been intending to eat his Christmas dinner with his sister Ann. On the 17th of December he writes, — "I am grieved to the soul that urgent circumstances keep me at this time from seeing you ; but in the next month I will certainly break away from all engagements to be with you ; " on the 19th he again writes, " Be assured, dear love, dearest sister, that nothing shall detain me from you on the day, and for the days you mention ; " the day after Christmas day he reiterates his jDledge. " On the sixth I have sacredly pledged myself to be with you." He was making great exertions to finish the portrait of Canning, his engage- ments were pressing ; yet while continually sympathizing with the distressing illness of his sister, which called forth all his tenderness, he seemed quite unaware that an illness of a more alarming character was hanging over himself Though unwell, he dined with Sir Robert Peel on the 2nd of January, and the next morning was well enough to invite two or three of his most intimate friends to dine, spending with them one of his usual social evenings. He was busied during the following day or two in painting on the portrait of his Majesty, but on the 6th he was obliged to have recourse to Dr. Holland ; yet he again painted during the day for more than an hour on the King's portrait. He found it necessary, however, to write to his sister Ann — the last note from his hand — and even then he only proposed delaying his visit till the morrow : that morrow which was but to precede his last. " I meant, my dearest Ann," he writes, " to be with you at dinner time to-morrow, and have made exertions to do so, but it may not be ! You must be content to see me at a late simple dinner on Friday." That evening he was taken much worse, and Dr. Holland being sent for, bled him ; he seemed to rally a little next morning, but as the bleeding was renewed by accident on two separate occasions during the day, he sank rapidly from ex- haustion, and died rather suddenly in the arms of his servant, on the evening of Thursday, the 7th of January, 1830. Lawrence, beautiful in infancy and in boyhood, was, as a man, of handsome presence and elegant manners, to which nature had added a well-toned and persuasive voice j these natural advantages are said to SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE, P.R.A. 209 have told much in his favour with the great personages who sat to him at Aix-U-Chapelle, as no doubt they did in the fortunes of his hfe. He was very tender in speaking or writing to women. One of his lady apologists says, " It cannot be too strongly stated that his manner was likely to mislead without his intending it ; he could not write a common answer to a dinner invitation, without its assuming the tone of a billet- doux. The very commonest conversation was held in that soft low whisper, and with that tone of deference and interest which are so unusual and so calculated to please." A very dangerous manner from a man with a handsome person, prominent position, and yet unmarried — a manner which led each woman to think that he regarded her with peculiar interest. He certainly loved female society, yet, though on one or two occasions he was too particular in his attentions, and had even entered into engagements, he still hved and died a bachelor. Lawrence was during all his life in difficulties as to money, although, latterly at least, in the receipt of large sums from his profession. Lord Durham paid him for " Master Lambton," 600 guineas ; yet we find him writing for payment in some instances before his portraits were completed. This improvidence has been much commented upon, and a charge of gambling was entered against him, but we think without foundation. A portion, at least, of his family were for years dependent upon him, and his only extravagance seems to have been in works of art : it was too- well known that a fine drawing by the old masters was a temptation too strong to be resisted, if money could be had, at whatever disadvantage. All portrait painters are under the necessity of succumbing to the imperious dictates of fashion ; not always the fashion of the dress of the period — perhaps only the fashion of its portraiture, as in the god and goddess school, or the Roman toga period of French art, a costume which we cannot suppose to have been the habit of the time. Lawrence was not exempt from the general bondage which had trammelled his predecessors, but by the time he had attained the first rank in portraiture, the fashion that had hidden the golden hair and grizzled the flowing locks of his lovely countrywomen had passed away, and, if still imperious in its sway, it clothed their limbs in garments so tight as to impede motion, and altered the graceful proportion and flowing lines of the female form by waists under the arm-pits rather than where nature placed them, it at least left the complexion free from paint and patches, and the amber locks and golden ringlets free from the paste that stiffened them or the powder that changed them into the ashy hue of age. But while we acknowledge the simpler taste introduced with the present century, and praise the fashion as more akin to nature, it is certain there is less of courtly dignity in the works of Lawrence than in those of his predecessors. Under the altered fashion of his day we look p 2IO A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. back on the beauties of the last century almost as we do to the quaint- ness of mediaeval times, and are apt to think nature, with her unrestrained ringlets, her mottled flesh and simple drapery, somewhat commonplace beside the pompous barbarisms which added many cubits to the stature of the beauties of the previous age. In making up his pictures, Lawrence was far inferior to his predeces- sors. There is far less variety in his compositions, far less of art in his arrangements. We miss the happy, rich suggestions of landscape scenery that their works exhibit, and too often instead are treated to repetitions over and over again, with slight re-adjustments of the stale commonplaces of pillar and curtain, or vase and pedestal, which it may be hoped will be banished from true art, since they now form the stock properties of the carte de visite and the photographic studio. It has always been said that the portraits of Sir Joshua were not likenesses, yet to us they have a great appearance of individuaUty. Sir Thomas was subjected to the same remark both from his sitters and from his brother artists. Wilkie says that "with all the latitude allowed to Lawrence in rendering a likeness, still those who knew and could compare the heads he painted with the originals must have been struck with the liberties he would take in changing and refining the features before him." He adds that, " compared with Reynolds, Lawrence was confined and limited in the arrangement of his pictures far more than his powers justified, admitting but small deviations in the placing of the heads, small variety of pictorial composition. The features in nearly all his heads were painted in the same light and in the same position; but they derived from this a perfection of execution never to be equalled." Such was the opinion of Wilkie : we should rather have said, a dexterity of execution which was quite his own. Haydon said that " Lawrence was suited to the age, and the age to Lawrence. He flattered its vanities, pampered its weakness, and met its meretricious tastes. His men were all gentlemen with an air of fashion, and the dandyism of high life— his women were delicate but not modest— beautiful but not natural, they appear to look that they maybe looked at, and to languish for the sake of sympathy." Opie had made a similar remark, but far more tersely. Lawrence, said he, "made coxcombs of his sitters, and his sitters made a coxcomb of Lawrence." These are hard sayings, and were remembered when death closed the fashionable career of the painter. As much as he had risen above his true rank in art, he then fell below it, and it has taken a quarter of a century to reinstate him— not to the place which he held in his lifetime, but to the true place which as a painter he should occupy among his countrymen. It must be allowed that many of his faults arose from his courteous weakness to his sitters ; they lived and moved in the atmo- Sm THOMAS LAWRENCE, F.R.A. 21 1 sphere of" fashionable life, then far more exclusive than at present, and he submitted to their dictation ; hence it was said that " his women look the slaves of fashion, glittering with pearls and ornaments, his children the heirs of coronets and titles, the tools and the pupils of the dancing master." _ Something also must be attributed to his overtaxed powers^ which obliged him to give over much of the making-up of his pictures to his assistants ; backgrounds and even hands were entrusted to them, and the numerous repetitions of public portraits which were called for, were necessarily almost entirely the .work of the Simpsons, father and son, Pegler, and others, who were in Lawrence's constant employment. The repetition of Reynolds's portrait of the Duchess of Devonshire and child —attributed to Lawrence, and now in the corridor at Windsor— is said to have been the work of Etty, during the time he was with Lawrence in Bedford Square. Yet, with every allowance, we can hardly place Lawrence in the first rank as a painter. There remained a sense of the crayon draughtsman to the last, a tinty mode of colouring, assimilating in some degree to the false brilliancy of paste. Even his drawings, though delicate and refined in line, were somewhat effeminate, and showed little of the force of true genius : tliey never rose beyond the elegant insipidity of artificial life. Lawrence had adopted a system depending on contrasts rather than on harmonies, and the meretricious qualities of his art in this respect certainly left a bad influence, somewhat qualified by the greater attention to precision and drawing which his manner of commencing his pictures initiated. Wilkie, in his remarks on portrait painting, gives us an insit^ht into Lawrence's practice of the art, he says :— " He wished to seize the expression rather than to copy the features. His attainment of likeness was most laborious. One distinguished person, who favoured him with forty sittings for his head alone, declared he was the slowest painter he ever sat to, and he had sat to many. He would draw the portrait in chalk, the size of life, on paper ; this occupied but one sitting, but that sitting lasted nearly one whole day. He next transferred this outhne from the paper to the canvas : his picture and his sitter were placed at a distance from the point of view where to see both at a time. He had to traverse all across the room before the conception which the view of his sitter suggested could be proceeded with. In this incessant transit his feet had worn a path through the carpet to the floor, exercising freedom both of body and mind ; each traverse allowing time for inven- tion, while it required an effort of memory between the touch on the canvas and the observation from which it grew." Thus we see that the happy facihty with v/hich, as a boy, he had been able to seize the likeness of individuals had left him ; or his knowledge of the diflSculties, and sense of the perfection of art, had induced in him p 2 212 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. patient effort and continuous repetition. This practice, in important pictures was carried even into the accessories and subordinate parts. Jt used to be told that for the legs alone of the small portrait of George IV. seated on a sofa, the King gave Lawrence nearly twenty sittings ; but then his Majesty is said to have had very fine legs, and the painter, in his Majesty's opinion, did not do them justice. Nevertheless, Lawrence had many facile methods of giving the ap- pearance of labour where the work was really slight ; thus the texture of his furs was rendered by a dexterous handling of the scrubby hog tool, which often produced the sense of imitation more exactly than the most laboured execution. He was once reproached that he resorted to tricks in painting, and this habit of splitting up his brush was given as an instance ; but he retorted with justice that if his method gave as true an imitative appearance of fur as could be obtained by the laborious process of painting it hair by hair, it was equally satisfactory and far more pamter- iike. It is probable that had Lawrence trusted in his own powers as he did in early days before he had name and fame to lose, he would have been more successful as a painter. He was fettered latterly by his very fastidiousness and desire of surface-finish, as well as by his endeavour to give the most polished aspect of his sitter. Reynolds and Gainsborough, the latter more especially, struck off some of their best portraits at a single sitting, and it is told of Lawrence, that having tried a portrait of Curran, and having after many sittings totally failed, he met the great Irish orator at a party, saw the fire of his eye and the energy of the natural man under the influence of after-dinner freedom, and exclaimed that the portrait he had laboured over was no portrait at all. He asked and obtained another sitting on the only day that intervened before Curran s departure for Ireland, and at that one sitting completed a fine likeness of this extraordinary man. Lawrence, after his first start, when he made some slight attempt at imitating Reynolds, soon adopted and ever continued to maintain a manner of his own ; it had this good influence on the school, that it encouraged more careful drawing, and the study of the head by this means, before beginning painting. It also contributed to restrain awhile the use of bad vehicles and fugitive pigments, and hence also the faulty execution which had arisen from the pranks of Reynolds ; but Lawrence's example tended to bring about that prevailing chalkiness of which Wilkie complained on his return from the Continent, and which, after Lawrence's death, he laboured by such fatal means to change. We would conclude our notice by saying, that while we are obliged to allow that Lawrence ranks below his immediate predecessors of the Enghsh school, it was hardly possible, at his death, to point to a successor likely to stand beside him in the opinion of posterity. CHAPTER XIX. THE CONTEMPORARIES OF LAWRENCE, While Reynolds, with the suigle exception of Gainsborough, who in his day was styled a landscape painter, stood alone and far above rivalry in portrait-art, Lawrence had many rivals who, far from yielding the palm, long contested with him the pre-eminence which, assisted by fashion and court-favour, he at last secured. The men and the times had alike changed. Lawrence when at the head of his profession was far from obtaining the unapproachable excellence of Reynolds and Gainsborough, and the ranks of art had also been largely extended since the foundation of the Royal Academy, by distinguished artists chiefly trained in its schools, who became the formidable competitors of Lawrence. In beginning with Sir Henry Raeburn, R.A., the earliest of these men in point of date, we can hardly designate him as a competitor. A native of Scotland, the most distinguished portrait painter of that country since the days of Jamesone, he was born 4th March, 1756, at Stockbridge, a suburb of Edinburgh, and had there his art training and practice. The son of a respectable manufacturer, and at an early age left an orphan, he was educated at Heriot's Hospital ; and at the age of fifteen was apprenticed to an eminent goldsmith at Edinburgh. His love of draw- ing led him to attempt portraits, and he soon attracted notice by his skill in miniature, so much so that he gained enough employment to en- able him to obtain his release from his master. He had had no teaching, it is said, except some hints from David Martin, a portrait painter, who then had the chief practice in the northern metropolis, but his minia- tures show such art-treatment as could not have been attained without the means, at least, of studying fine works. As his powers increased he tried full-size portraits in oil, and his success raised the jealousy of his quondam adviser. His sitters increasing, he abandoned miniature, and devoted himself exclusively to oil. He worked in a free spirited manner, 214 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. and aiming at character succeeded in impressing it on his canvas. He was advancing in his profession by the strength of his own genius, when in his twenty-second year, fortune assisted him in taking a firmer footing, by the help of an estimable wife with whom he acquired some property, and he soon afterwards came to London. His early minia- tures showed a knowledge of the works of Reynolds, and his object was to obtain advice from the great painter. We are told that he was cordially received, that Sir Joshua saw his merits, admitted him for two months to his studio, and advised him to visit Rome, offering to assist him with funds. Though -this was not needed, Reynolds gave him letters of introduction, and he set out for Italy with his wife. Here he remained for two years, and then returning, settled in Edinburgh, in 1787, and soon gained full employment as a portrait painter, for years taking the lead in that branch of art. The most distinguished men of the city were numbered among his sitters, and many of them his personal friends. He was fond of architecture, and in 1795 he built a large house in York Place, the basement of which formed his studio, with the required offices, and the upper floor a handsome gallery for his pictures, lighted from the roof, while his family dwelling was at St. Bernard's, Stockbridge. He appeared to have quite taken root in the congenial soil of his native city ; both his art and his society were highly esteemed, and he was surrounded by friends. He made no long visits to London, and had few opportunities of knowing the works of his contemporaries in that metropolis ; yet he probably longed for a larger sphere, and to measure himself with men whose fame at least must have been well known to him. He was ambitious too of the distinction which admission to the Royal Academy confers on its members, and had placed his name on their list of those who sought election. We are told that late in life he thought of establishing himself in London, but that Sir Thomas Lawrence, whom he consulted, succeeded in dissuading him ; and this advice, it is insinuated, arose from the desire to keep him out of the way. Probably this was in 1 810, in the May of which year Wilkie records that he "had a call from Raeburn, who told me he had come up to London to look out for a house, and to see if there was any prospect of establishing himself : " and a month later, Wilkie again notes, " Went with Raeburn to the Crown and Anchor to meet the gentlemen of the Royal Academy. I introduced him to Flaxman ; after dinner he was asked by Beechey to sit near the president, and great attention was paid to him." He was evidently thought well of by his brother artists in London, and we can find many reasons why Lawrence, without laying himself open to any narrow-minded suspicions, might very conscientiously recommend an artist, in his fifty-fifth year, not to quit a field where, surrounded by tried friends, he had earned and THE CONTEMPORARIES OF LA WRENCE. 215 maintained an undisputed pre-eminence in his profession, and thus break away from the companions whose society he loved, and enter into a contest with estabUshed rivals on a new field. Honours, however, at last fell thick upon Raeburn, and in his native city. In 18 1 2 he was elected president of the Society of Artists in Edinburgh ; in 18 14 an associate ; and in the following year, a full member of the Royal Academy in London ; and on the King's visit to Scotland in 1822, Raeburn was knighted, and soon after appointed his Majesty's Limner for Scotland. He did not long enjoy these honours. After a very short illness, without any marked symptoms, he died on the 8th July, 1823. His portraits were distinguished by great breadth, both of treatment and character. Commencing with the brush, he aimed to secure at once the individuality of his sitter, rather than to attain a likeness by the studied drawing of the features, and he succeeded in seizing a truthful and characteristic expression. No doubt, Raeburn in some degree founded his art upon that of Reynolds, though, from the great difference in their execution and handling, we suspect that he studied Reynolds through the fine mezzo- tints of" MacArdell and others, rather than direct from his paintings. We find the same value given to breadth of light and shade — so distinctive a quahty of the English painter, and very fully given in the prints from his works ; but we find none of the richness, none of the impasto, of Reynolds. The Scotch painter's manner of execution is more hke that of Gainsborough in its thinness and once-ness, with a certain appearance of facihty which may have made Wilkie, when in Spain, remark that the works of Velasquez reminded him of Raeburn — but the low tone adopted by the Scottish president sometimes gives to his thin execution a some- what impoverished look, and he loses entirely the pearly freshness, so great a charm in Gainsborough. It is said that Raeburn had a theory that as portraits are intended to be seen at some elevation on the walls of the apartment in which they are hung, so ought the sitter to be viewed from below, and that, acting on this principle, he painted his whole lengths as if level with the feet af the sitter. This obviated any danger of his being included in the "tip-toe school," but it caused the pamter's subject to be seen under the least pleasing aspect— namely, looking under the jaw and up the nostrils of the sitter; the forehead also, the portion of the face which expresses the higher qualities of the cultivated man, becomes foreshortened, the more considerably in proportion as it recedes over prominent brows. It was no doubt from this practice of Raeburn that Sir Walter Scott complained that his portrait made him look clownish and jolter-headed — the animal features of the face, thus viewed, being increased, and the fine but peculiar and conical head of Scott being reduced in height and otherwise 2l6 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. seen to disadvantage. Raeburn's art was more suited to male than to female portraiture— he failed in giving the grace and loveliness of his female sitters. He may have owed part of the great reputation which he enjoyed to his somewhat isolated position as the head of his pro- fession in Scotland, and ptrhaps might not have been able to sustain it to the full, had he removed to London. John Hoppner, R.A., born in Whitechapel, April 4th, 1758, has been characterized as the most daring plagiarist of Reynolds, and the boldest rival of Lawrence. In the meagre information as to his early days, given by his biographers, mystery and scandal have been attached to his birth. His mother is said to have been one of the German attendants at the royal palace, and George HL so particularly interested in him as to see that he was well-nursed and educated. We think the fact that Hoppner was born above two years before George HL was king, or the occupant of the royal palace, may be accepted rather than the vague undated statements relative to Hoppner's birth, and the scandals which have been founded upon them. So far upon the vexed question of his parentage. There seems, however, none as to his having been at an early age a chorister in the royal chapel, and that, manifesting a strong inclination for art, the King gave him some assistance for its study. This was probably when his voice naturally became unfitted for the choir, and we find that he entered the Royal Academy as a student in i775» being then in his seventeenth year. As a student he laboured diligently, and in 1782 gained the gold medal, the great prize of the Academy, for an original painting from Kmg Lear ; and in the same year he married a daughter of Mrs, Wright, the celebrated modeller in wax. He showed much aptitude for land- scape art, but at once adopted the portrait branch of his profession; then, it may be said, the only one to insure the artist a living. Early in his career he produced a portrait of Mrs. Jordan as the Comic Muse. This picture is at Hampton Court, and was an attempt beyond the young artist's powers. The group consists of two females life-size and whole- length ; the figures have a straddling action, with little taste and without poetic feeling ; the drapery is wooden and without flow, and the colour- ing disagreeable and heavy. Later in his career (in 1791) Mrs. Jordan again sat to him as Hippolyta. That he lost no time in entering upon the practice of his profession is evident, since we find his name in 1780, when barely twenty-two years of age, in the catalogue of the Royal Academy. For some years he continued to exhibit portraits of " A Lady," of " A Gentleman," as they were then entered in the catalogue, leaving us in perfect ignorance as to the individuals represented, and rendering their verification hopeless. This absurd practice, by which every one not of the blood royal was THE CONTEMPORARIES OF LAWRENCE. 2ir vaguely designated in the catalogue, was common to all the portraits it contained, until 1797. However obtained, it is clear that Hoppner retained some influence in the palace. In 1785, he exhibited three portraits of the Princesses Sophia, Amelia, and Mary, and in 1789 he is styled portrait painter to the Prince of Wales, and is often employed by the Prince and his brothers, the Dukes of York and Clarence, as well as by many of those most distinguished for rank and fashion. His reputation largely in- creased ; he was esteemed by many the first portrait painter since Reynolds; and Lawrence owned him to be a formidable rival ; in 1793 he was elected an associate, and in 1795 a full member of the Royal Academy. By this time, Lawrence, much his junior, had rapidly risen into court favour and fashionable distinction. He had been appointed portrait painter to the King, while, as we have seen, Hoppner held the same office under the Prince, and the two artists are represented as of the two factions which then unhappily prevailed. We are amused by the tale of Hoppner having offended the King, who had been his friend, by praising Reynolds ; and the tattle of his having used his ready wit and influence in support of Whiggism, whose talents and beauty were the reward and abjects of his pencil alone. Art is of no party ; and, above all parties, is indifferently sought by all. Hoppner had to contend with a chronic state of ill-health, arising from a constitution naturally weak ; and much of his proverbial irritation, if not produced, was aggravated by the ailments which attend a diseased liver. He must have been often tried by his sitters. He told the critic, Giff'ord, as an example of his annoyance, how " a wealthy stockbroker drove up to his door, whose carriages emptied into his hall, in Charles Street, a gentleman and lady, with five sons and seven daughters, all samples of Fa and as well fed and as city bred a comely family as any within the sound of Bow bells. ' Well, Mr. Painter,' said he, ' here we are, a baker's dozen ; how much will you demand for painting the whole lot of us ; prompt payment for discount ? ' * Why,' replied the astonished painter, viewing the questioner, who might be likened to a su- perannuated elephant, ' why, that will depend upon the dimensions, style, composition, and—' * Oh, that is all settled,' quoth the enlightened broker ; ' we are all to be touched off in one piece as large as life, all seated upon our lawn at Clapham, and all singing God Save the King.'' " As we have seen, Hoppner copied Sir Joshua, the attitudes of whose sitters he even adapted to his own compositions ; he also followed Gainsborough in his backgrounds. Two or three of his whole-length portraits are at Hampton Court, to which place they have probably been banished from their sad state of dilapidation, arising from the painter's having copied the defective materials of Reynolds as well as his com- 2l8 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. positions and general arrangement. Those remaining at St James's, painted after Reynolds's death, are less injured by the use of asphaltum ; but they are devoid of any special originality in art, though highly respectable as portraits, Hoppner's colouring was thought brilliant, and yet mellow, by his contemporaries; but it has changed with time, and is now_ somewhat heavy and horny. Hoppner was sometimes very happy in his portraits of ladies and children ; his handling was free, his execution unlaboured, but his drawing often faulty. The painter's ill- health shortened his days, and he died on the 23rd of January, 18 10, aged fifty-one years : a time of life which might still have left some years of promise, and Lawrence was able to write — " The death of Hoppner leaves me without a rival." In examining the works of La\vrence's contemporaries, it is remark- able how repeatedly we are reminded of the great influence which the works of Reynolds have had upon our school. The artists to whom this chapter is devoted painted under this influence. They did not exhibit any high or original qualities in art. But though they did not obtain great distinction, or leave us works we may point to' with full satisfaction, they yet form not unimportant Hnks in the history of English art, and their portraits of many great personages will long occupy places in our mansions and public edifices. William Owen, .R.A., is no exception to this class. He was born at Ludlow, in Shropshire, in 1769 — the more precise date is not recorded —and was the son of a bookseller. He received a fair education in the grammar school of his native place, and gave eady indications of genius by sketching the beautiful scenery surrounding the town. In 1786 he came to London, as the pupil of Catton, R.A., and was admitted to the schools of the Royal Academy. He also gained an introduction to Reynolds, who was pleased with his indications of abihty, and assisted him with his kindly advice. In 1792 and the following year he appeared on the walls of the Royal Academy as a portrait painter ; but his natural talent appears to have inclined him to subjects of rustic life, elevated both above common life and mere portraiture by some reference to poetry or story. In 1797, he exhibited a portrait of two sisters, by which he gained great credit, one of whom he soon afterwards married ; and his proficiency and his sitters steadily increased. In 1800 he settled with his family in Pimlico, and kept a studio in Leicester Square. He now produced some of his best works. A fine portrait of Mr. Pitt established his reputation, and was followed by successful portraits of Lord Grenville, the Duke of Buccleuch, and a long list of distinguished sitters. He was at the height of his practice, and was elected an asso- ciate of the Royal Academy in 1804, and a full member in 1806; followed in 18 10 — on the death of Hoppner — by the appointment of THE CONTEMPORARIES OF LAWRENCE. 219: portrait painter to the Prince of Wales. At the summit of his prosperity his income, though it received but little increase by the prince's appoint- ment, now reached 3,000/. a year, and in 1818 he removed both his family and his practice to Bruton Street. Here his health soon failed, probably from overwork, and for five years he was confined to his room, and unable to continue his art. In this state he died suddenly on the iith of February, 1825, from the effect of laudanum wrongly labelled by the chemist who made up his prescriptions. To the genius and aptitude for art with which Owen was gifted by nature, he added unwearied diligence. His drawing was superficial, but his manner of painting did not want power, and his colour, though with a tendency to be hot and monotonous, was good. His feeling for land- scape Was shown in the taste displayed in his backgrounds. His subject pictures were pleasing, and enjoyed a high reputation in his day, which has not been maintained in our own. It seems to require an apology to the memory of Sir Martin Archer Shee^ P.R.A., as hardly befitting one distinguished by such varied talents, and who attained the rank of president of the Royal Academy, that we have given him a place only in this chapter ; and yet in the plan of our work it is here that he finds his true place as an artist. He was descended from an Irish family of old Connaught lineage, and was born in Dublin, 20th December, 1769. His first attachment was to art, and he was fortunate in being placed under Robert L. West, then the talented master of the school connected with the Dublin Royal Society. He very early commenced portraiture, and soon met with some encouragement and success. In the summer of 1788, he tempted fortune by removing to London. Here he soon met friends who were well disposed to assist him. He had exhibited two heads in 1789, and he now completed four por- traits, which he submitted for exhibition in 1790, but was grievously disappointed that they gained no place on the Academy walls. Made known by an Irish relative to Burke, he was by him favourably introduced to Reynolds as "his little relative," and by the advice of Sir Joshua, he entered the schools of the Royal Academy ; though with some hurt to his pride, as he thought he had finished his pupilage in Dublin. In 1 791 he exhibited his first whole-length, and struggling on like others have done before him and since, now elated by a good work well placed in the exhibition, now depressed by want of success, he quietly gained a name and a place in art. His earliest works were mainly theatrical portraits; and he tells of an historical attempt exhibited in 1794, which had cost him at intervals, three years' thought and toil, " The Daughter of Jephthah Lamenting with her Companions." In 1798 he exhibited a large equestrian portrait, which added to his reputation; and in the 220 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. following year he gained his election as associate, and in 1800, as member of the Academy. Shee's constant occupation in art was portraiture, yet he found time to try his hand at subject-pictures, but he acknowledged that he owed his election into the Academy to his portraits, not to his historical attempts. By portraiture he had established his reputation, and steadily following this art, he found employment, if it did not lead to fortune. But he was not a man of one talent. He was early known as a critic and writer on art. His Rhymes on Art, published in 1805, gave hirn a literary reputa- tion, and he was apostrophized in Byron's satire of Etiglish Bards and Scotch Reviewers : — ' ' And here let Shee and genius find a place, Whose pen and pencil yield an equal grace." In 1809 he published a continuation of his rhymes under the title of Elements of Art ^ and next, among other lesser writings in 1824, Alasco, a Tragedy, which was withdrawn from the theatre in consequence of some considerable expurgations absurdly insisted upon by the deputy licenser of plays. He also published anonymously, in 1829, Old Court, a novel, which attracted but little attention. He had gained the esteem of his profession. A man of both artistic and literary talent, of sound judg- ment and good business aptitudes, of gentlemanly breeding and manners, able to express himself well on all occasions, and devoted to the interests of art, he was deemed by his friends a worthy successor to the pre- sidential chair on the death of West. But he himself at once candidly admitted and supported the superior claims of Lawrence, on whose death, in 1830, he was almost unanimously elected to the rank of presi- dent, and received the honour of knighthood. Sir Martin's presidency had fallen on troubled times. The vexed questions connected with the erection of the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square, of which the Royal Academy was to occupy one wing, came at once upon him. He had to maintain the privileged rights the Academy had so long enjoyed without question at Somerset House, and their interests as affected by the proposed removal. He had also to assert the character of the Academy in the face of attacks made by a party in the House of Commons. In all these weighty matters the president acted with promptitude, zeal, and ability, not in the cause of the Royal Academy alone, but in the interests of art in their widest sense ; and signally justified the choice of his colleagues, which placed him in a position to render important services to his profession. We may judge of Shee's early art by the picture of Lewis the comedian in the character of the Marquis, in The Midnight Hour, bequeathed by the comedian's son to the National Gallery collection. This was THE CONTEMPORARIES OF LA WRENCE. 221 painted in 1791, and was the first whole-length by him which obtained a place on the Academy walls. It is an exceedingly clever work, and not too much Hke Reynolds, — the common fault of the young painters of that time. Easy in action and well drawn, it has much individuaUty of character, and no doubt was a good Ukeness, with just a flavour of the natural affectation of the actor. Like most portraits by young men (Shee was in his twenty-first year), it is very carefully finished ; the flesh is a little ruddy, and the cheeks have the appearance of rouge, not un- suitable in the portrait of an actor, but a fault apparent in most of Shee's after works. The handling is sharper, and the touch more square than in his later works, in which he fell into a method of painting as if with a thick and somewhat viscid vehicle ; the colour, after being laid by the brush, was softened and smoothed by an extensive use of the "sweetener," giving the flesh an unnatural softness, while it is wanting in that inter- change of cutting with softened edges, so valuable in aiding relief. Haydon asserted that portrait painters always painted their full-length figures standing on the tips of their toes, and he ironically gave linear rules how to draw the feet properly in perspective. But he was him- self ignorant of the cause of the apparent error ; which, moreover, to suit his own purposes, he greatly exaggerated. The feet were mostly right in perspective, in relation to the objects in the foreground, but the loose and careless habits of the portrait painters, or their desire after some effective arrangement of light and shade, often led them into the gross error of having one horizon for their foreground objects, and a totally different one for the background. This is seen in Shee's " Portrait of William IV.," now in the council room of the Royal Academy, although in a less degree than in many other works. In this picture, the top of the table on the right, on which the crown rests, is just on a level with the eye, and the circular lines of the crown are drawn as if in plain elevation, as an architect would call it ; but Windsor Castle on the left, whose round tower is seen just above the ground plane on which the King is standing, from the perspective curve of its Hnes, and as we do ftof see the top, must have an horizon two feet lower down than the table, so that we have two horizons in the same picture ; and if the feet of the King are referred to the lower one, he has partially the appearance of standing on his toes. We would not, however, credit Shee particularly with this fault : Lawrence is a frequent and a far greater sinner ; and we remember that when a recent professor of perspective pointed out to an eminent painter a Hke fault in a portrait of the Duke of Devonshire, in which Chats- worth was seen in the distance in very false perspective, the painter justified it by saying that it must be recollected Chatsworth was on a " devil of a hill," showing a twofold error in his very justification : first, 22i A CENTURY OF PAINTERS^ that anything could justify the eye being supposed to be in two places at once ; and, secondly, his want of knowledge, that if the mansion were ona hill— the higher the hill the higher the horizon would seem to be ; instead of this being a reason for lowering it down to the ground. Shee's last contributions to the exhibition were in 1845. Age, and the exertions he had undergone, had begun to tell upon him. He had for some time suffered from illness, on the increase of which he resigned his office of president in 1845, but was induced by the affectionate wishes of the Academy to resume it. But though he consented to resume his office, his health gradually declined, and his death, accelerated by the sudderi death of his wife, took place at Brighton on the 19th August, 1850, in his eighty-first year. Thomas Phillip, R.A., another contemporary who passed a long life in the practise of portrait-art, was born of respectable parents at Dudley, in Warwickshire, i8th October, 1770. He was placed by them with Mr. Edgington, the well-known glass-painter, at Birmingham, but fostering higher aims he came to London at the end of 1790 ; and West, P.R.A., is said to have found him employment connected v/ith the execution of his designs for the painted glass windows at Windsor. At first he exhibited subject-pictures, but adopting portraiture as his chief pursuit, he steadily and industriously made his way. In 1804, he was elected an associate, and in 1 808, a full member of the Academy. The subject of his presentation picture was "Venus and Adonis." His portraits were faithful, and he found full employment, many persons of distinction sitting to him. In 1824, he was appointed professor of painting to the Royal Academy, and travelled to Rome, the better to fit himself for the office. His lectures were published. He wrote some articles on art subjects for Rees's Encyclopczdia, and occasionally for other publications. He died, 20th April, 1845, in his seventy-fifth year. The portraits of Phillips are marked by soberness and propriety, by negative rather than positive qualities ; they are generally good as to likeness, solid and careful in execution, free from meretricious colour, and truthful as to character. He takes no rank as a colourist, but a pleasant tone pervades his works. John Jackson, R.A., is another example of one possessing many fine qualities in art, yet falling short of excellence. He was the son of the village tailor, at I.astingham, in the North Riding of Yorkshire, where he was born on the 31st of May, 1778. He was apprenticed to his father's trade, but was soon known in this out-of-the-way village by his attempts to draw the portraits of his companions ; by these attempts he attracted the notice of Lord Mulgrave and of Sir George Beaumont, the .latter of whom induced him to make a trial at painting in oil, and lent THE CONTEMPORARIES OF LA WRENCE. 223 to him, for that purpose, Sir Joshua's portrait of George Colman the dramatist ; but in his native village the materials were wanting, and Jackson was indebted to the kindness of a friend, a house-painter, who gave him the use of his workshop, and by whose aid the young artist soon improvised tools and colours sufficient to make a copy that surprised his patron, and satisfied him that Jackson was intended by nature for the pursuit of art. Sir George is said, after consultation with Jackson's other patron. Lord Mulgrave, to have advised the young painter to go to London, as the best means of enabling him to study for the profession, and to have generously oifered him a table at his own expense and jQ<^o a year until he had gained a footing in the great capital. Under these favourable auspices he came to town, and in 1805 was admitted a student of the Royal Academy. His attempts, although, as we have seen, he had painted in oil before he left the country, had hitherto been likenesses taken in pencil and slightly tinted with water-colour, and his first portraits in oil did not give much promise. His water-colour portraits were, however, as he im- proved, universally admired ; the heads were well drawn, the likenesses faithful, and spiritedly though carefully finished. He did not, indeed, abandon the hope of the higher distinction to be gained by portraiture in oil ; and trying the wide-spread canvas of that medium, he soon attained complete success. In 1 81 6, he was elected an associate of the Royal Academy, and travelled through Holland and Flanders, studying the art of the Dutch and Flemish schools. In 1818, he became a full member of the Academy, and in the following year he visited the chief cities of Northern Italy and Rome, Sitters gathered round him. He wrought with great facility and extraordinary rapidity, and during the last years of his practice his portraits displayed great ability : solidly and power- fully painted, faithful, but wanting elevation of character ; in his female portraits simple, without any meretricious attempts at simpering graces or the millinery of dress. He particularly excelled in the sub- dued richness of his colour, a quality in which Leslie, R.A., said " Lawrence certainly never approached him," and in another place, " that he stood with Lawrence and Owen, and occasionally before either of them, in the first rank of portraiture." His portrait of Flaxman was greatly admired by his brother artists, and when exhibited. Sir Thomas Lawrence praised it warmly at the public dinner before the opening of the exhibition, speaking of it as " a great achievement of the English school, and a picture of which Vandyck might have felt proud to own himself the author." We are well aware that Sir Thomas was rather a politician in praise, but though so many years have passed, we can well recollect our own great pleasure 224 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. at seeing this portrait on the walls. The execution was dififerent to thnt of the works of most other painters ; it appeared laid in with pure and somewhat crude tints, as he would have laid in his first broad hatchings in water-colours. Over this a thin painting gave the broken and mottled hue of flesh, and put the work into unity ; it was then lowered in tone by a slight general glaze. It is related that a French artist of eminence, standing before this picture in the exhibition, was heard to say " fine — • very fine — almost as fine as Gerard," and, growing in admiration as he continued to examine it, " quite as fine as Gerard," which, from a Frenchman, was a high proof of his appreciation of its excellence. Jackson was of the Methodist persuasion, and his connection with that body led to his being usually employed to produce the monthly portrait for their organ, the Evangelical Magazitie, and thus conduced to a connection, extensive although not lucrative. Unlike secta- rians in general, he was liberal in his feeUngs to the Church, and had such an affection for his native parish of Lastingham, as to copy, on an enlarged scale, the picture of " Christ in the Garden," by Correggio, which he had borrowed for that purpose from the Duke of Wellington, and which he presented as an altar-piece to the village church. He was a man of deep religious feeling, but in the last two years of his life he fell into a desponding, low state of health. He was twice married ; his second wife was the daughter of James Ward, R.A. He was a frank and amiable man in private life ; his friend Constable wrote thus of him : — " He is a great loss to the Academy and the public. By his friends he will be for ever missed ; and he had no enemy. He did a great deal of good, much more, I believe, than is generally known, and he never did any harm to any living creature. My sincere belief is, that he is at this moment in heaven." He died June ist, 1831. George Henry Harlaiv, one of those painters who, it is thought, had he been spared, might have proved a competitor of Lawrence more formidable than any other, had the misfortune to be a posthumous child. His father, who had realized money in the China trade, died some few months before the birth of his only son on the loth of June, 1787. The mother was left a widow with five daughters and one infant son, who was petted and spoiled, as a matter of course, by the whole family, and grew up to think himself, almost before his boyhood was passed, a man, and a most important personage too. Some excuse may well be m-ade for the women of the family, since young George early gave indications of great talent, and must have been a handsome youth. So clear was the bent of his genius towards art, that his mother was induced to agree to his following it as a profession ; she placed him first with De Cort, afterwards with Drummond, the associate, and finally with Sir Thomas Lawrence, who was paid a sum of money to allow the THE CONTEMPORARIES OF LA WRENCE. 225 young man the run of his studio, and to pick up any accidental scraps of information that might fall in his way— seeing Lawrence's pictures in progress, if he did not see him paint, the set of his palette, his vehicles and processes, and occasionally getting a sententious scrap of wisdom from the president, which he might apply or not as he had the abihty or wisdom. _ He did not continue with Lawrence above eighteen months ; but he imbibed somewhat his manner. He quarrelled with the mechanical part of the work assigned to him, and did not like the cold graciousness of his master. This, added to his vain appreciation of his own powers, led to mutual separation, not on the best terms. When Harlow left the studio of Lawrence he had to depend upon his own industry and ability for his support. There is no doubt that he had adopted much of the peculiarity of Lawrence's manner and execu- tion; a manner which, in his life-size works, gave them even a greater impression of meretriciousness than is seen in his master's ; while in the small portraits of painters and men of eminence, which latterly he sought to paint for his own profit and improvement, the manner induced breadth with refinement, although it appeared empty and poor in the larger heads. His early training had been that of a spoiled child. When he began to practise his profession as a means of livelihood, he painted, at a low price, portraits of many of the actors of the day, and thus fell into the society of men whose life is seldom the most regular ; and being of an easy and careless disposition, he was led into dissipation, and soon became embarrassed in his circumstances. He had ever been noted for his love of dress, and for his great attention to personal appearance valuable qualities in the young if arising from a sense of neatness, and not the result of vanity ; which last, it is to be feared, was the motive with young Harlow. What wonder, with these causes at work, that a young and thoughtless boy, who commenced housekeeping and the practice of his profession at sixteen, should, as Smith tells us, have "had many tailors' bills to discharge, without an income to discharge one," and that he soon fofind himself mixed up with bill-brokers and attorney's, while with the elders of his profession he got a character for extravagance and dissipation. The first time Harlow exhibited at the Royal Academy was in 1805, when we find No. 125, "A Portrait," and he continued to exhibit until the year of his death, with the exception of the year 1813. He was a competitor for Academy honours, but was unsuccessful ; having only one scratch, that of Fuseli, who declared (very properly) that he voted for the painter and not for the man. It must be remembered, also, that Harlow was only thirty-one when he died, and that had he lived to an average age he might have overcome the prejudice arising from his Q 226 ■- A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. conceit, and would have had ample time to achieve the highest reputa- tion and honours. He met with plenty of encouragement as a portrait painter. In June, 1818, he went to Italy, and stayed some time in Rome, where he received many flattering attentions, and was elected member of several Italian Academies, of which he was justly proud, and not a little vain. On the 13th January, 18 19, he was agam m England, his head full of historical pictures, and his art no doubt im- proved by the study of the works of the great masters ; but, in the full ardour of youth and hope, and with many works just begun, he was attacked by a cold which resulted in a glandular disease of the throat, and ended in his death on the 4th of February, 18 19. He was buried in a vault of St. James's Church. Harlow's reputation was great in his own day, and the public placed him higher as an artist than a review of his works will allow us to do. It is evident his genius was wholly for portraiture, that he would very probably have failed in historical compositions, and that even in por- traiture he had probably done his best ere his early death. Several of his works were engraved, among others two groups of female heads, the subject of the first being "The Proposal," and of the second, "The Congratulation ; " they were rather of the class pretty and pleasing, but they were extremely popular. From Knowles we further learn that Harlow's "Trial of Queen Katharine " owed much to the critical remarks of Fuseh, " for when he first saw the picture (chiefly in dead colour), he said, ' I do not dis- approve of the general arrangement of your work, and I see you will give it a powerful eff'ect of light and shadow ; but you have here a com- position of more than twenty figures, or I should say parts of figures, because you have not shown one leg or foot ; this makes it very defec- tive. Now, if you do not know how to draw legs and feet, I will show you,' and taking up a crayon, drew two on the wainscot of the room. Harlow profited by these remarks, and the next time we saw the picture, the whole arrangement was cl-Kanged. Fuseli then said, 'So far you have done well ; but now you have not introduced a back figure, to throw the eye of the spectator into the picture,' and then pointed out by what means he might improve it in this particular. Accordingly Harlow introduced the two boys who are taking up the cushion ; the one which shows the back is altogether due to Fuseli, and is certainly the best drawn figure in the picture. Fuseli afterwards attempted to get him to improve the drawing , of the arms of the principal figure (Mrs. Siddons as Queen Katharine), but without much effect; for, having witnessed many ineff'ectual attempts of the painter, he desisted from farther criticism, remarking, ' It is a pity that you never attended the Antique Academy.' " THE CONTEMPORARIES OF LA WRENCE. Our own opinion of this picture is that it is clever, but stagey, with rather too much of the tableau and attitude school; and, although the painter prided himself upon it as an historical picture, we consider that it has none of the quahties to uphold its claim to that rank. Sir John Watson Gordon, R.A., was born in Edinburgh, in 1790, being the son of Captain Watson, of Overmans in Berwickshire, a post-captain in the British navy. Through his father's family, young Gordon claimed a Scottish cousinship with Sir Walter Scott, through his mother's relations with Robertson the historian, and Falconer the sea- man, who wrote The Shipwreck, and afterwards perished in a storm at sea. Young Gordon was educated with a view to the army, and interest was made for him to enter the Royal Military Academy at Woolwich, but being too young for admission he was remitted for a time to the Trustees' School at Edinburgh, to improve himself in drawing. John Graham, who then was head-master, must have been either an exceed- ingly clever teacher, or particularly fortunate in his pupils, since Wilkie, Allan, and Burnet were among them, besides many others who after- wards attained a higher reputation than their master. Here Gordon remained four years, and whether inspired by the atmosphere of the place, or by the clever companions by whom he was surrounded, he after a time turned his views towards art as a profession. His first efforts, like those of most young men, were in the direction of history painting. Shrewd no less as a youth than as a man, he soon found that his talent might be better employed in portraiture, and succeeding in his efforts, continued true to this branch of art all his life. After Raeburn's death in 1823, Watson Gordon became his successor in his Edinburgh practice, and all the celebrities of the Scottish capital visited his studio. He was one of the earliest members of the Scottish Academy ; and in 1850, on the death of Sir W. Allan, became their president. At the same time, her Majesty gave him the vacant appointment of Queen's limner for Scotland, and conferred on him the honour of knighthood. Watson Gordon had been elected an associate of the Royal Academy of London in 1841, and obtained tlie full honours of the body in 1851. Loving his profession, he lived in the practice of it, and led a single life in the social circle of his Scottish friends. True to his native city till the last, he died there, rather suddenly, on ist June, 1864. His portraits are bold and manly, his figures well placed on the canvas, and he at all times seized happily the best expression of his sitters, giving them character without an approach to caricature — the sagacity and shrewdness of the Scottish character in all its best aspects, when united to intellect and a high cultivation. He had little sense or feeling for colour, and never seemed to wish to escape from the black garments of his male sitters by the introduction of the furniture, in which most Q 2 228 A CENTUR V OF PAINTERS. portrait painters so largely indulge. Frequently in his male portraits the only colour is that of the flesh, with a negative warmth in the back- ground ; yet there was a great harmony in the grey tones of his work, which prevents us from feeling so much the absence of colour ; and even his female portraits, in which the same scale predominated, did not lose so much from this cause as might have been expected. He was most successful in his male heads of persons advanced in life, which are painted more as completed sketches than as pictures, and gain thereby great force, freshness, and vigour. His works when exhibited in Pans, in 1855, were greatly admired, particularly the portraits of Professor Wilson and the Provost of Peterhead, and won for him a medal on that occasion. It is not right to close our Ust of the contemporaries of Lawrence without some notice of Henry Perronet Brtggs, R.A., although he can hardly be so designated. Born in 1792, he entered as a student of the Royal Academy in 181 1, and beginning life as a subject painter, won his way to honours by pictures which, if not of the highest class of art, have great merit in the construction of the subject, the frequent originality of action in the figures, and the mode of telling his story. His drawing is usually correct, the colouring forced and somewhat rank, and the flesh has often a polished and shining look, very diff"erent to the tender and somewhat absorbent nature of its true surface. After his election as a full member, Briggs almost entirely devoted himself to portraiture, finding himself compelled, from the confined patronage of art at that time and the necessities that followed upon his marriage of providing for the future household, to adopt this more lucrative branch of his profession. Many of the most eminent persons of the day sat to him. His portrait of Lord Eldon is one of his most characteristic works ; but, both in his subject-pictures and in his portraits, his colouring was rather strong than true, and his flesh painting hot in the shadows and forced in the lights. His wife, to whom he was much attached, died some years before him ; his own death took place on the 1 8th January, 1844, in his fifty-first year. CHAPTER XX. JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER, R.A. His birthplace and the scenes among which Turner passed his childhood, may be thought not the best fitted to form a landscape- painter, or to fill his youthful mind with images of beauty. Born 23rd April, 1775, the son of a hairdresser of small means, and bred in Maiden Lane, in the heart of this great metropolis, he could enjoy very little of the sight of " fresh fields and pastures new." In the hovels and sheds of the Covent Garden of that day, he might make acquaintance with a few specimens of roots and flowers, and, strolling down to St. James's Park in the summer evenings, get a glimpse of trees and greensward. But even the park was far less foliated than in the present day. Many of the old trees were stagged and dead, and new ones were not yet planted. But, straying down a set of winding lanes and alleys, young Turner might, and no doubt often did, wander away to the strand of the broad river, a river unequalled in the world for its picturesque variety, and not then spanned by so many bridges, or cumbered with steamboats and steamboat- piers ; not then quite so muddied and thickened with the refuse of the extra million dwellers on its shores. Here his love of rivers and river scenery, no doubt, was fostered. The first drawing he exhibited was a view on its southern bank, as was also the first oil picture — "Moonlight," a study at Millbank, now in the national collection; and his last days were ])assed in an obscure dwehing by its side, whence he could see its broad bosom gleaming under the western sun. The quaint picturesqueness and curious relics of architecture in the streets of his own neighbourhood may also account for his love of cities, and of architecture. It is not very clearly stated by any of his biographers when young Turner began to show a love for art ; but it is most probable that it was developed early, since in 1789, when only fourteen years of age, he was admitted a student in the Royal Academy, and in 1790 he exhibited on its walls for the first time, " A View of the Archbishop's Palace at 230 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. Lambeth," and there are some sketches which must be prior to either of these periods. Turner was from the beginning diligent in the pursuit of his pro- fession, and soon began to turn it to profitable account : it is said that he exhibited his juvenile performances for sale in the windows of his father's shop in Maiden Lane ; that he was employed to colour prints for Raphael Smith, the engraver, and to wash in backgrounds for the architects, a practice more resorted to half a century ago than in our own day. Even at this early time, and under such unpromising circumstances, there was an originality in his work : we are told that he was employed by a Mr. Dobson, an architect, to colour the perspective front of a mansion, and that in putting in the windows. Turner showed the effect of reflected light from the sky, contrasting with the inner dark of the room on the uneven surface of the panes. This was a new treatment, and his employer objected to it, declaringthat the work must be coloured as was usual ; that is, the panes an unvarying dark grey, the bars white. " It will spoil my drawing," said the artist. " Rather that than my work," answered the architect : I must have it done as I wish." Turner doggedly obeyed, and when he had completed the work, left his employer altogether. The sequel of the story is curious : some time after, it occurred to the architect to try a drawing on the principle he had dis- approved, and remembering Turner's work he coloured it nearly the same. It was sent to the Royal Academy, and accepted, and was so much admired by Smirke, that he sought the acquaintance of Dobson, which led to a union between the families. So much for genius in the mere colouring of a window. It would appear from the un-numbered sketches Turner left behind him, that he thoroughly appreciated and acted up to the maxim of "no day without a line," and that his sketch-book was always in requisition. Smith, it would seem, introduced him to Girtin, and also to Dr. Munro, who employed both Girtin and Turner, as we have already told, to sketch for him, paying them at the rate of half-a-crovm an evening, and provid- ing them with a supper after their labours. We also know that Turner gave lessons ; receiving five shillings and even ten shillings per lesson — ■ a large sum in those days. Although London and its noble river afforded some of the earliest subjects for his pencil, he soon began to travel, to enlarge his field of study. He visited when quite young some Bristol relatives, and his early architectural and topographical labours gave him a taste for, and led him to examine, the noble ruins spread over the land. As a proof of this architectural and to^jographical feeling, Mr. Wornum tells us that of thirty-two drawings exhibited by Turner from 1790 to 1796, no less than twenty-three are architectural ; principally views of the great JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER, R.A. 231 cathedrals and abbey churches of the kingdom. As evidence of his diligence and promptitude, we learn that Girtin having mentioned, m the presence of Turner, his intention to pay a sketching visit to St. Alban's, but delaying to do so for a few days, he was surprised to meet his friend returning with a book of sketches : Turner having forestalled him and already reaped the harvest, while Girtin was thinking of starting to win it. /- J 1 1, u 1 From the pictures which he exhibited in 1795, we find that he had been within the previous year to Cambridge, Peterborough, Lincoln, Shrewsbury, Tintern, and Wrexham ; and before he became an associate of the Royal Academy in 1800, his exhibited works range over twenty- six counties of England and Wales, many of which he had apparently visited several times, at a period when travelling was far less easy than in our own day. Turner long continued his topographical labours for the booksellers, which led on\o his undertaking, later in hfe, a series of works illustrating our cities, rivers and coast scenery. For some years prior to 1801, he designed the headings for the Oxford Almanack, which were engraved by M. A. Rooker until his death in that year. Wyatt, the frame-maker of Oxford, used to relate a characteristic story of Turner, but whether of this period or later is uncertain. He had employed the painter to make some drawings of Oxford, which obliged him to sit in the public street. The price to be paid for the work was a liberal one, but, as annoyances and hindrances took place from the curiosity of spectators, before Turner began the drawing of Christ Church he made Wyatt obtain for him the loan of an old postchaise, which was so placed in the main street that Turner could work from the window ; and, when the drawing was paid for, the painter insisted on receiving three shillings and sixpence which he had disbursed for the use of the old vehicle. Turner, we have seen, began his art by sketching from nature, and never omitted any opportunity of enlarging his knowledge by the same means ; continuing the practice to the latest period of a long life, as the following incident, related to have happened within two or three years of his death, will prove :— He had wandered away in the summer months along the coast of Normandy, as he said himself, looking out for storms and shipwrecks : he carried nothing with him but a change of linen and his sketch-book. Arrived at Eu, he found it necessary to have his shoes repaired, and took a lodging in the house of a fisherman. He had not been long there before an officer of the court inquired for him, and told him that Louis Philippe, the King of the French, who was then staying at the Chateau, hearing that Mr. Turner was in the town, had sent to desire his company to dinner (they had been well known to one another in England). Turner strove to apologize— pleaded his want of dress— but this was overruled; his usual costume was the dress-coat of the period, 232 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. and he was assured that he only required a white neckcloth, and that the King must not be denied. The fisherman's wife easily provided a white neckcloth, by cutting up some of her linen, and Turner declared that he spent one of the pleasantest of evenings in chat with his old Twickenham acquaintance. On starting for these excursions, he never intimated the route he intended to take, nor the time of his stay or of his return, this being determined by the weather and his success. The National Gallery alone possesses nearly i,ooo of his sketches, works of high excellence and of the most varied character, which were the fruits of these rambles. In sketching, Turner used all methods ; but rarely, very rarely, the medium of oil. And it is this water-colour tendency of his art, and this constant recurrence to nature, that gives the interpreting key to all his after practice. Passing from the mere outlines, which are rapid pencil sketches of distances and foreground figures, we find colour-sketches reckoned by thousands. Here we have every variety of subject and every amount of labour. Sometimes simple flat washes of local tint indicate the whole of a wide extended landscape, sometimes the relation of mountain to sky, or of a bit of foreground to distance, is happily and minutely given ; of mere studies of skies it is said that Turner's are to be reckoned by thousands. As he advanced in art he made sketches lor his pictures, and sketches from nature on grey papers, heightening the lights, or giving the points of expression by white or body colour, but still using the colour of his masses translucently as if on white paper ; some of these sketches, mere broad flat masses of colour, are so truly beautiful and effective, rendering nature so fully to us, that we seem to want no more completion, but are thoroughly satisfied with the result before us. It has been objected to Turner that he could not draw the figure ; and the ignorant laugh at many of the figures which he has introduced into his landscapes, while others detract from the Academy teaching for the same reason. But Turner's sketches show that he was a most ready and able draughtsman, while his effort is rather to give the right treatment to his figures— the true effect of light and sun and air, their true keeping in the picture, and the indefinite mystery of sunshine upon them— than to define their forms or to complete their outline. Mr. Ruskin says :— "The Academy taught Turner nothing, not even the one thing it might have done,— the mechanical process of safe oil- painting, sure vehicles, and permanent colours." Such assertions as these are easily made, and difificult to disprove ; but this is certain. Turner himself was not ungrateful to the Academy, either as to its teaching or to its friendly membership, as his life-long fellowship with its members clearly proves. Moreover, his early pictures— when modes of painting JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER, R.A. 233 learnt in the schools, clung about him — were safely and solidly painted, and show no signs of cracking. Witness his " Crossing the Brook," his "Richmond Hill," and many others of this period. Some notes upon nine or ten pictures of various periods, made on the occasion of Mr. Bicknell's sale in 1863, show that the works of his earlier time were in the soundest state, simply and carefully painted, and without any failure of colour. It was only when his eager pursuit of the effects of sunlight, mist, and extensive distance bathed in air and vapour, led him on to frequent scumblings, and at times to the use of water-colours in his oil paintings, and his impulsive genius carried him away to paint hastily, and to force his works with rapid driers, that the foundations of these failures were laid. Another cause of failure has also been hinted at, — Turner's known practice of painting largely upon his pictures on the " varnishing days." At these times, such was his love of colour, that any rich tint on a brother painter's palette, so tempted him, that he would jokingly remove a large portion of it to his own, and immediately apply it to his picture, irrespective of the medium with which it was made up. From our own palette he has whisked off, on more occasions than one, a luscious knob of orange vermilion, or ultramarine, tempered with copal, and at once used it on a picture he was at work upon with a mastic magylph. Such a practice, productive of no mischief at the moment, would break up a picture when the harder drier began to act on that which was of a less contractile nature. Again, as to the pictures left on his own walls for any time, — and this relates to all those now in the national collection, as well as to many oihers which remained for years in his studio, — the utter neglect and carelessness with which they were treated, would have de,stroyed pictures of the strongest constitutions, much more the delicate, fragile works which he loved to produce. The scene in his rooms on the occasion of his funeral would have saddened any lover of art, for the works left behind, almost as much as for the genius that had passed away. The gallery seemed as if broom or dusting-brush had never troubled it. The carpet, or matting (its texture was undistinguishable from dirt), was worn and musty ; the hangings, which had once been a gay amber colour, showed a dingy yellow hue where the colour was not washed out by the drippings from the ceiling : for the cove and the glass sky-lights were in a most dilapidated state, many panes broken and patched with old newspapers. From these places the wet had run down the walls, and loosened the plaster, so that it had actually fallen behind the canvas of one picture, " The Bay of Baige," which, hanging over the bottom of the frame, bagged outwards, with the mass of accumulated mortar and rubbish it upheld. Many of the pictures —" Crossing the Brook " among others — had large 234 A CENTUR Y OF PAINTERS. pieces chipped or scaled off; while others were so fast going to decay, that the gold first, and then the ground, had perished from the very frames, and the bare fir-wood beneath was exposed. It may well be supposed that in such a damp and mouldy atmosphere any pictures would suffer, much more the fragile works of Turner's last period, irregularly carried out as has been described. As no lists of the attendance of students were kept at that time, it is impossible to tell how much or how little Turner worked in the schools of the Academy. One thing is certain, that, when elected, his brother members believed in his power not only to draw the figure but to instruct others, since they repeatedly appointed him a visitor in the hfe school (a duty not usually confided to a landscape painter) ; and those who studied m the schools during his visitorship have testified to the valuable assistance that he gave the students at those times. When a visitor in the life school he mtroduced a capital practice, which it is to be regretted has not been continued : he chose for study a model as nearly as possible correspond- ing in form and character with some fine antique figure, which he placed by the side of the model posed in the same action ; thus, the " Discobulus of Myron " contrasted with one of the best of our trained soldiers : the "Lizard Killer " with a youth in the roundest beauty of adolescence: the "Venus de' Medici " beside a female in the first period of youthful womanhood. The idea was original and very instructive : it showed at once how much the antique sculptors had refined nature ; which, if in parts more beautiful than the selected form which is called ideal, as a whole looked common and vulgar by its side. Turner's conversation, his lectures, and his advice were at all times enigmatical, not from want of knowledge, but from want of verbal power. Rare advice it was, if you could unriddle it, but so mysteriously given or expressed that it was hard to comprehend— conveyed sometimes in a few indistinct words, in a wave of the hand, a poke in the side, pointing at the same time to some part of a student's drawing, but saying nothing more than a " Humph ! " or " What's that for ? " Yet the fault hinted at, the thing to be altered was there, if you could but find it out ; and if, after a deep puzzle, you did succeed in comprehending his meaning, he would congratulate you when he came round again, and would give you some further hint ; if not, he would leave you with another disdainful growl, or perhaps seizing your portecrayon, or with his broad thumb, make you at once sensible of your fault. To a student who was intent on refining the forms before he had got the action of his figure, he would thrust with the point of his thumb at the place of the two nipples and the navel, and— very likely with the nail— draw down the curve of the depression of the sternum and linea alba, to show that pose, action and proportion were to be the first consideration. To another who, painting from the JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER, R.A. iy^ life, was insipidly finishing up a part without proper relation to the whole, he would — taking the brush from his hand, and without a word- vigorously mark in the form of the shadow and the position of the high lights, to indicate that the relations of the whole should be the student's first consideration. The schools were usually better attended during his visitorships than during those of most other members, from which it may be inferred that the students appreciated his teaching. This, however, relates to the middle period of his life, and not to the time now under consideration. His lectures on perspective, after he was elected to the professorship, were, from his naturally enigmatical and ambiguous style of delivery, almost unintelligible. Half of each lecture was addressed to the attendant behind him, who was constantly busied, under his muttered directions, in selecting from a huge portfolio drawings and diagrams to illustrate his teaching ; many of these were truly beautiful, speaking in- telligibly enough to the eye, if his language did not to the ear. As illustrations of aerial perspective and the perspective of colour, many of his rarest drawings were at these lectures placed before the students in all the glory of their first unfaded freshness. A rare treat to our eyes they were. Stothard, the librarian to the Royal Academy, who was nearly deaf for some years before his death, was a constant attendant at Turner's lectures. A brother member, who judged of them rather from the known dryness of the subject, and the certainty of what Turner's delivery would be, than from any attendance on his part, asked the librarian why he was so constant. "Sir," said he, "there is much to^^^ at Turner's lectures — much that I delight in seeing, though I cannot hear him." It has already been remarked that the art of water-colour painting had its origin in topography, and that the minute attention to facts and details so necessary in topographical works was a direct and valuable initiation to the careful study of nature. We have seen also that Turner began art as a water-colour painter, labouring at drawings of local scenery. The works which he exhibited at the Royal Academy for the first seven years were all views. But Turner's genius was not of a nature to allow him long to continue painting simply representative landscapes, or to treat his subjects merely topographically. In 1793, we note the first indication of an attempt to treat his picture as modified or changed by passing atmospheric effects. For mist and vapour lit by the golden light of morn, or crimsoned with the tints of evening- spread out to veil the distance, or rolled in clouds and storm — are the great characteristics of Turner's art, as contrasted with the mild serenity, the calm unclouded heaven, of Claude. Henceforth, his quotations from the poets are frequent, first from Thomson's Seasons, or Milton'g 236 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. Paradise Lost, but afterwards strange confused stanzas from some mythical manuscript called The Fallacies of Hope. No one knowswho was the author of this poem, or whether, indeed, it exists at all; we rather infer that the quotations were manufactured as occasion arose by the painter himself: they are in the strange ambiguous style of his conversation, and his attempts at wit, under- stood only by himself, and certainly if Turner's pictures had been as unintelligible as his poetry, he would have added little to art. It has been asserted somewhat unjustly that Turner was underrated and misunderstood by his contemporaries, but the criticisms of the time are favourable to his works, and his election as associate of the Koyal Academy at the very earliest period at which, according to the rules, he could be chosen ; and, further, his elevation within little more than two years, and when only twenty-six years of age, to full membership, sufficiently prove that his talent and genius were fully appreciated by his brother artists, and received all the honour that their choice could give. But to return to the period preceding his associateship. Not only did Turner from this time eschew representative landscape and topo- graphical art for that which is far higher and more noble— for a general- ized treatment of nature, avoiding minute details, and looking at his subject as a whole, with all the poetry arising from accidents of storm and sunshine, of driving mist, of early morn or dewy eve — but he actually held as a principle that accurate topographical treatment, mere imitative landscapes, painted as they might in our day be photographed from a given point, embracing all that could be seen from that point, and no more, did not represent the place so fully as a far more general treatment would do : a treatrnent bringing in, it may be, buildings or objects which from that identical spot were not to be seen, being hidden, perhaps, by nearer objects, or out of the field of the picture — but which from their importance, their magnitude, or their singularity, were especial features of the scene. Thus he would say that no one should paint London without St. Paul's, or Oxford without the dome of the Bodleian ; and constantly in his pictures he would move a building of importance considerably to the right or left, to bring it into what he considered its best place in the picture. And this is quite consistent with reason, for no one but an artist views a town or any scene from a rigidly fixed point. Again, we may look upon scenery under some aspects, or at one time of day, and see in it neither feature nor beauty : it may even seem essentially cornmonplace, from those very details which some would delight ill giving so imitatively ; but the same scene presents itself, perhaps, in the purple gloom of sunset, massed large and solemnly against a luminous golden sky, and we look with surprise and wonder JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER, R.A. 237 at its beauty. The true mission of the artist, then, is to seize these golden moments, rare and fleeting — unheeded, perhaps, even in their beauty by common minds — and to fix them by his art for ever. What, compared with this, is the merit of building up a tree leaf by leaf and branch by branch; of drawing, as if by the camera, every nameless house and every crumbling stack of chimneys, brick by brick? What is there in such, even if true as truth itself, that atfords us delight ? After he began painting in oil. Turner for some time continued in his exhibition-pictures, chiefly to use that medium. We do not find him all at once striking out a new art for himself, but rather walking rever- ently in the old paths and deferential to old authorities. Many of his earliest works, and of these some of his best, are founded on the Dutch school ; Wilson is palpably imitated in many of his pictures, so also are Poussin and Claude. Indeed, Turner evidently felt a strong spirit of rivalry with Claude, and a desire to measure himself, and be mea- sured by the world, in comparison with the great French landscape painter ; as he proved by the special bequest of two of his works to hang between two of the best Claudes in the National Gallery, where th«y have since been placed. Even the figure painters were not beyond his imitative rivalry; as in "The Blacksmith's Shop," painted in 1807. This picture is specially curious, as showing how ready our painter was to match himself against any aspirant for fame. The year before, 1806, " The Village Politicians," the work of Wilkie, then only in his twenty- second year, was exhibited in the Royal Academy, attracted general attention, and was highly praised. Turner painted " The Blacksmith's Shop," evidently in direct imitation of the manner and characteristics of the young artist who had so suddenly taken rank before the public, and the work was exhibited the same year with " The Bhnd Fiddler," the second picture that Wilkie painted in the metropolis. This may have been done in a spirit of friendly rivalry, rather than from any envious feeling on Turner's part, still it is alleged that the younger man felt a little sore, and the transaction led to some hostile criticism. While Turner was painting for the walls of the exhibition those noble works, which we at least are inclined to think, with one or two excep- tions, his best, and the period during which he produced them (viz., from 1800 to 1820), his best time, he was diligently labouring at the new art of water-colour painting ; very rarely exhibiting the works in this medium publicly, but mostly preparing them for the engravers. This practice seems to have led him to a perfectly new view of his art. Water-colour, depending for its lights on the purity and whiteness of its ground, and susceptible of the most infinitesimal gradations of tint and colour by mere dilutions of the pigments with water, has, so far, a wider 238 ' A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. range than oil is capable of, wherein the tints, when painted solidly — as all the lights must almost of necessity be — are gradated by mixing the coloured pigments with white ; this admits of far fewer gradations in scale, and has, moreover, the evil of altering somewhat the nature of the colour by such admixture, making the tint produced in a degree absorbent of light, and far less brilliant than in its transparent state by mere dilution. It is true that by glazing the colour over a light ground, some of the advantages of water-colour are obtained, and some even in a higher degree than in that medium ; such as increased depth, brilliancy, and force, far greater from the unctuous richness of oil than in water-colour. But even when thus treated, the gradations are far less delicate, owing to the fluidity of the medium being less ; while as there is a sensible colour in all oily media which tinges or tarnishes the dehcate tints, the use of oil in this manner is almost precluded. Turner, in his water-colour art, was led insensibly into these refined gradations ; by them he sought detail with great breadth, and managed to give at least the appearance of the multitudinous details of mountain range or extended plain, the effects of air and light, and the mists that are ever floating in our island atmosphere, — a manner that no one had thought of before him, much less had accomplished ; and this manner he sought to carry out in his oil pictures also. His water-colour practice led him to the use of the white ground. He soon perceived the far greater luminousness thus to be obtained ; that works so treated, when seen in a room, had as it were light in themselves, and appeared as if the spectator were looking forth into the open air, as compared with the solid paintiness of the works of his contemporaries. But hov/ to use his colour in sufficiently delicate gradations to achieve the same result on a light ground in oil, as on the paper ground in water-colours, was one of his first difficulties ; and he was led to adopt the use of scumbling, that is to say, of driving very thin films of white, or of colour mixed with white, over a properly prepared ground. By this means he not only obtained infinitely delicate gradations, but he successfuly imitated the effects of air and mist ; the brighter tints beneath being rendered greyer and more distant at the same time by the film of white. This enabled him to make the points of the composition — his figures, or other coloured objects in the foreground— stand out in extreme brilliancy, owing to the employment of transparent colour boldly and purely used over the white. By these means Turner obtained the whole range of the scale, from white — to him the intensest representative of hght — to the purest reds, oranges, blues, purples, &c., that the use of the transparent pigments in oil permitted. Or by a black object, such as a black hat, a dog, or a cow, the extreme range of his palette from light to dark. Thus he JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER, R.A. abandoned the old maxim of art — that a painter should reserve his palette, and always have something to enhance the black, the white, or the colour of his picture — and expended all the force of his pigments so as to realize the utmost brilliancy possible. This change in Turner's art became manifest about the year 1820. This year was a year of transition ; after it we find his execution, as well as the principles on which he wrought, entirely changed from the solid character of his first manner. Burnet, whose critical remarks on Turner's works are usually sound and well considered, has shown us how contemporary art was affected by this change of principle in Turner, He says {Turner and his Works, p. 61), " The light key upon which most of our present landscape painters work, owes its origin to Turner; the presence of his pictures on the walls of the Academy engendered this change from the darker imitations of Wilson and Gainsborough, or the contemplation of the landscapes of the Dutch school ; light pictures certainly attract more attention than dark, but the question is, how far this style may be carried with safety ; in the opinion of many, the English school are extending this principle to excess. Wilkie used to relate an anecdote, that while he was one of the hangers of the pictures, he carried a copy of ' The Woman taken in Adultery,' by Rembrandt, and put it up amongst the works on the walls of the Academy; there was a general shout of triumph in favour of lights — one cried out ' Away with the black masters ! ' another said, ' It looks like a hole in the wall ; ' but after listening to their congratulations in praise of their own style, Wilkie quietly observed, ' If we are on the right road, then the greatest masters of the Italian and British schools have all been wrong.' " We also know that Wilkie, on his return from Italy, complained that the English works were, to his eyes, painted up in the darks, but left flat in the lights, that is, looking thin and poor. We well remember ourselves the effect of the British pictures when hung in the same building with the works of the French school at the Paris Exhibition, in 1855. They had generally an appearance of chalkiness that had never struck us until we saw them thus juxtaposed, for the French paint lower in tone than we do, even in their landscapes, and always seem to reserve their palette, so as to retain both white and colour more intense than is found in the picture, to enable them to emphasize and give focussing points to their works ; while our artists seem lavish of the full power of the palette, and appear to leave nothing beyond for that little more light, which, according to the well-known painter's paradox, may serve to make the picture darker and richer — that brighter pigment which is to neutral- ize any too-prevailing colour ; or that still darker touch which is to take out the dark from a picture, and to give it clearness. Such, however, was 240 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. no longer the art of Turner in the new manner he adopted, and con- tinued until he ended his labour with his life. Perhaps this stjle reached its climax in the picture of " Phryne as Venus going to the Baths," painted in 1838. Soon after this picture, Turner's art began visibly to decline ; he pushed his principle of broken tints, of intense light and of confused and commingled forms, to its utmost extreme ; and some of the last works, of his hand, while the artist may regard them with wonder, not unmixed with admiration at what they suggest, must ever be but caviare to the multitude. To us one of Turner's most poetical works is the " Ulysses Deriding Polyphemus," which he exhibited in 1829, and now in the National Gallery. It is impossible to go beyond the power of colour here achieved ; it is on the very verge of extravagance, but yet is in no way gaudy. How nearly it is so, is seen in any attempt to copy the picture ; such copies are more surely failures than those from any other of the painter's works. The mere handling is a marvel, the ease and freedom of the work, the thick impasto of tints that are heaped on the upper sky, making the lower parts recede in true perspective to the rising sun ; the grand way in which the vessel moves over the ''watery floor," the dream-like poetry of the whole, make up a picture without a parallel in the world of art. Or, look at his "Shipwreck," 1805, a work whose characteristics are of the Dutch school, but in which the theme is so treated as to speak by its terrible poetry to all, but more especially to English, minds. The heaving and boiling sea, torn by the winds, is mingled with the black heavens all along what might be the horizon : the foam from the crests of the broken waves is driven like a snow-wreath across the dark over- hanging thunder-cloud ; yonder, almost hidden by the mist and smoky drift of the torn waves, the doomed vessel lies tossed and helpless, the hopeless seamen dropping from hull and bowsprit into the swamping boats. In the foreground, lit up by a fitful gleam, are other boats hasting to aid the drowning crew ; one is almost engulfed in the boiling surge ; in the other, the mariners strain hard at the helm to steer clear of their companion. Terror is on every face. Turner as an artist was quite aware of the greatness of his own powers, and jealous of their proper recognition ; many indications of this feeling will occur to those who read his life. In person Turner had little of the outward appearance that we love to attribute to the possessors of genius. In the last twenty years of his life, during which we knew him well, his short figure had become corpulent — his face, perhaps from continual exposure to the air, was unusually red, and a little inclined to blotches. His dark eye was bright and restless — his nose, aquiline. He generally wore what is called a black JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER, R.A. 241 dress coat, which would have been the better for brushing— the sleeves were mostly too long, coming down over his fat and not over clean hands. He wore his hat while painting on the varnishing days— or otherwise a large wrapper over his head, while on the warmest days he generally had another wrapper or comforter round his throat— though occasionally he would unloose it and allow the two ends to dangle down in front and pick up a litde of the colour from his ample palette This together with his ruddy face, his rollicking eye, and his continuous! although, except to himself, unintelligible jokes, gave him the appear- ance of one of that now wholly extinct race— a long-stage coachman. In the schools his eyes seemed ever in motion, and would instantly spy out any student who was sketching his portrait— which we were all anxious to do on the margin of our drawings, but out of many attempts none succeeded, for he knew, as if by intuition, when any one had his eye on him for this purpose, and would change his posture so as to preclude the cliance of its being finished. Thus stolen likenesses of him are rare On the varnishing days he was generally one of the earliest to arrive coming down to the Academy before breakfast and continuing his labours as long as daylight lasted ; strange and wonderful was the frans- formation he at times effected in his works on the walls. Latterly he used to send them in in a most unfinished state, relying on what he could do for them during the three days allowed to the members Soon after Turner's death the "varnishing days" were, however, abandoned for a time, and only reinstated in 1862. It had been found in the interim that Turner was right in the value he placed on these days of meeting. The English school is constituted on the system of individual independence; each artist after having learnt the mere techmcal elements, the handicraft of his art, practises it almost irre- spective of the rules and traditions of his predecessors. In En^^land the ^/./.^;- system of the Continent-a system where the pupil ent°ers upon all the knowledge of his master and follows all the traditions of the school— is all but unknown ; while even our academic system leaves the student, after he has obtained a command of the language of his art quite free as to his mode of using it, and has the merit of forming artists of varied originality, because untrammelled by rules and systems : if It has also the fault of leaving the rising body ignorant of any general code of law or precedent to guide them in their practice Now on the "varnishing days," when painting was going on in common, much of precept, much of practice, and much of common experience were interchanged. The younger members gained much from the elder ones, and many useful hints and suggestions from one ano her Who does not recollect the valuable remarks of Wilkie, Etty, Leshe, Constable, and Mulready, and, above all, of Turner? though 242 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. from him, as has been already seen, it was conveyed in dark hints and ambiguous phrases. A litde anecdote of what happened to one of the writers, on his first admission to the privilege of these meetmgs, which must be told with the singular pronoun, will illustrate what has been said ; at the same time it is quite characteristic of Turner, and of his keen perception of what a picture required to set right an apparent defect, and it is on both accounts well worth insertion here. " The first varnishing days at the Royal Academy to which I was admitted on my election as associate, I was trying to spoil my picture of ' The Castle Builder,' when Howard came up to me and said, in his most frigid manner, ' that the bosom of my figure was indeHcately naked, and that some of the members thought I had better paint the dress higher.' Here was a dilemma for a new associate. Of course, with due_ meek- ness I was about to comply with his advice, although gready against the grain, and with a sort of wonder at myself that I could possibly have been ignorantly guilty of sending an immodest contribution to the Exhibition. Meanwhile, Turner looked over my shoulder, and, in his usual sententious manner, mumbled out, ' What-r-doing ? ' I told him the rebuke I had just received from the secretary. 'Pooh, pooh, said he, ' paint it lower.' I thought he was intent upon leading me into a scrape. * You want white,' he added, and turned on his heel. What could he mean? I pondered over his words, and after a while the truth struck me. The coloured dress came harshly on the flesh, and no linen intervened. I painted at once, over a portion of the bosom of the dress, a peep of the chemise. Howard came round soon after, and said, with a little more warmth, ' Ah ! you have covered it up— it is far better now— it will do.' It was no higher however ; there was just as much of the flesh seen, but the sense of nakedness and display was gone. Turner also came round again, and gave his gratified grunt at my docility and appreciativeness, which he often rewarded afterwards by like hints. Now this was not a mere incidental change, but it was a truth, always available in the future, the value of linen near the flesh— a hint I never forgot, and continually found useful. Many such have I heard and seen him give to his brother landscape painters— either by word of mouth or with a dash of his brush ; and it is a great satisfaction to all that by a fair compromise with the other exhibitors, the Academy has again partially restored the varnishing days, and that members can again interchange opinions and advice with one another." . . . „ But we resume. Hitherto Turner has been spoken of principally as an oil painter, and this art has furnished most of our illustrations of his methods and practice. Yet as a water-colour painter, he is, perhaps, even more eminent. It has already been said that .his treatment of JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER, R.A. oil was greatly influenced by his practice in water-colour, and that his success, or the novelty of the results, influenced the whole art of the period, introducing a lighter and brighter scale of painting than had heretofore prevailed. His influence on the growing school of water-colour was treated of in a former chapter; but it is impossible to conclude our notice of Turner and his art, without some more definite account of his works in water-colour. Perhaps it is not too much to say, that he shows even as a greater artist in these works, than in those painted in the nobler medium. In oil he had the body of ancient art before him, and great masters of execution in almost every varied style. But in water-colour, what was there in the be- ginning to guide him— what had he to adopt— what to improve upon ? The art all but began with him ; weak and feeble, in its very childhood as to executive means, hardly a resource had been invented by which to express the wonderful qualities which nature presents to the artist's eye, and which Turner, more especially, was gifted to perceive. Nature revealed to him a flood of atmospheric light, a world of infinitely tender gradations of tint and colour, gradations so minute as to be almost unappreciable by other men, and such as it seemed hopeless to realize by the practice which then prevailed; he had, therefore, to invent his own methods. Turner soon found that an untrue heaviness resulted from the old process of diluting or strengthening a grey tint and treating every part, first as a mere gradation of light and dark, afterwards tinting with colour, thus to represent the hue of the object in the lights, and by passing the same tint over the shadowed ground, the hue as affected or changed by shade. He proceeded, therefore, to view every object and part of an object, the whole surface of his picture, as colour ; the local colour modified and often absolutely changed by light or the absence of light, by atmosphere, reflection, or distance, but each portion still looked at for its own colour ; and then, resorting to the pigments which, either separately or mixed, would represent that colour, he would execute the tint or hue at once on the paper. This was a great advance in the true direction, but here another danger was to be avoided, muddiness of tint, and loss of the translucency from the white ground, pardy from the imperfection of the pigments, and partly from the needful repetitions of the washes. Hence arose delicate hatchings and stipplings, which in his hands achieved wonderful qualities of broken hues, air-tints and atmosphere ; and various modes of removing from the surface any over- loaded parts. All these, with numerous other resources, were, if not invented by him, applied so judiciously, and with such consummate manipulative skill, that we never for a moment are led to a consideration of the process by which the efiect is produced, being so fully satisfied R 2 244. A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. with the truth of the impression it imparts. Water-colour seemed to lend itself readily to the imitation of those effects in nature he so much loved to represent — nature lost in a blaze of light, rather than dimmed with a twilight gloom— and thus it happens that his works in this medium mostly embody some evanescent effect, be it flood of sunshine bursting forth after storms, or careering in gleams over the plain, the mountain, or the sea ; or some wrack of clouds, some passing shower or rainbow of promise refreshing the gladdened and glistening earth. Turner's water-colour paintings, indeed, epitomize the whole mystery of landscape art. Other painters have arrived at excellence in one treatment of nature. Thus, Cozens in grand and solemn effects of mountain scenery ; Robson, in simple breadth and masses ; De Wint, in tone and colour; Glover in sun-gleams thrown across the picture, and tipping with golden light the hills and trees ; Cox, in his breezy freshness ; and Barret, in his classical compositions, lighted by the setting sun. These were men that played in one key, often making the rarest melody. But Turner's art compassed all they did collectively, and more than equalled each in his ov/n way. It had been almost a dogma in art that the darkest colour of a picture must, in open-air subjects, be in the foreground. But Turner, by his knowledge in the application of hot and cold colours could place his dark in the distance, and yet be true, although the foreground was glowing with golden sunlight. Thus in the "Heidelberg" (which was in the International Exhibition, 1862), a few small touches of warm dark in the foreground are all that counterbalance a mass of blue dark in the distance. ... Turner began in water-colours, as he did in oil, by imitating the art of his predecessors and contemporaries. In many of his early works the inspiration is evidently caught from Cozens. Other works suggest the low tones and broad manner of Girtin, as the "Warkworth" and the " Easby Abbey " : perhaps the golden manner which the latter painter adopted-just before he died, led to Turner's rich and golden tones ; but if so, he speedily surpassed his early competitor, and began to range over the novel and hitherto untrodden field of fleeting effects, such as painters term accidental ; his readiness and boldness in seizing these is as remarkable, as is the fearlessness with which he pushed them to the very verge of truth. Turner repudiated the mere imitation of Nature, and never cared to represent her commonplace aspects : those indeed, which from their abiding, are the only aspects which can be literally copied, and although he made hundreds of studies from nature, he never seems to have painted a picture out of doors. He cared only to reproduce those varied JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER, R.A. 245 effects which are fleeting as they are beautiful — Hke the passions which flit across the human countenance, and which can raise the most common- place and stolid face into the region of poetry, or those expressions which, whether on face of man or the wide-spread champaign, pass as suddenly as they arise, and can only be reproduced by the hand of genius, working with the stores of a schooled memory, enriched by the treasures of long and patient study. Moreover, Turner's art was completely an art of selection : of selection as to time and circumstance, as to effect of light, shade, or colour ; of selection by omission or by the addition of parts. If we look even to his foregrounds, where, if anywhere, the details of nature would be imitatively rendered, we find no such attempt on his part. Even there he sought to give the impression of foliage, flowers, and fruit, rather than to render them imitatively. We recognize, it is true, some of the typical plants, the leading growths, such as the vine hanging from branch to branch, or the gourd traiUng over fallen column or sculptured stone, rendered, it may be, with the utmost truth of general effect and of relation to the tone of the picture, whether of grey storm or of golden sunlight. Still never rendered with any curious perception of minute beauties arising from direct individual imitation, but rather with relation to the masses of light and dark in his picture, or to the forms he wished to emphasize or to hide. If Turner had a defect it was too great generalization ; and, as our defects grow upon us in our old age, his latter works in oil seem rather schemes for pictures — the bold and startling laying-on of masses pre- paratory to future completion — than attempts at any detailed realization. In many. of them we try in vain to make out the minor forms in the masses. It seemed sufficient for the painter that the great truths of sun and shade, of hot and cold were faithfully rendered, and then — did we not know his perfect manipulation in water-colours even late in life — we might think that either his eye failed him, or that the will was wanting to cope with the tedious labour of completing the parts whilst maintaining the requisite breadth. The palette knife, the broad hog-tool for scumbling the broken surface, were the means he employed — means quite incom- patible with minute completion. He ever studied to preserve a sense of mystery, a quality which is most valuable to the painter, as Turner very well knew. " Hang that fellow's works," said a great living painter, on looking at a pre-Raphaelite picture ; " one sees them all at once, and there is nothing left to find out." The suggestiveness of a work of art is one of its richest qualities ; and the veriest blot of Turner is suited to suggest more than the most finished picture of imitative details. The wonderful industry of the painter is apparent even from his . 246 • A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. exhibited works. Rodd, who published in 1856 a catalogue of the pictures painted by Turner and exhibited at the Royal Academy, gives a list from 1787 to 1850, of 259 pictures ; to which he adds sixteen more, exhibited between 1806 and 1846, at the British Institution, making in all 275 pictures. This, which might well represent the whole life of an ordinary man, was but a fraction of Turner's labours. How many fine easel pictures by him were never exhibited ? and how shall we estimate the addition which should be made to the Hst by the drawings made solely for the engraver? In 1808 he commenced his first work of this class, pitting himself against Claude, in his Liber Studiorum ; and from that time his engagements with publishers never ceased— his Southern Coast Scenery, his England and Wales, Rivers of England, Rivers of France, Rogers's Italy, Rogers's Poems, &c. The large property he had accumulated by his art, and his generous disposal of it (though partially frustrated) for the benefit of his brother artists and his countrymen, are well known. Of Turner's life, passed entirely in the pursuit of art, enough has been said. He was elected an associate in 1799 ; a full member of the Royal Academy in 1802. In 1807 he was appointed professor of perspective, the duties of which office he fulfilled for nearly thirty years. Secretive in his habits, he loved to make his journeys alone, and to the last he continued to absent himself for uncertain periods from the knowledge of his household and his friends. His death was as characteristic as his life. Just below the picturesque old timber bridge which spanned the Thames from Chelsea to Battersea the river widens out into a deep bay. In the centre of the curve just at the bottom of a little half-country lane, were two small cottages, such as might be inhabited by the boatmen whose craft lie along the curving shore. These houses looked out on to the broad expanse of river, ever as the day declined reflecting the glories of the setting sun and the evening sky. In one of these cottages Turner died. That he might enjoy solitude and his lonely studies he was accustomed to lodge here under the assumed name of Brooks. Here, evening and morning, he could look out on his beloved Thames, and what was better still, see sky, ever changing, clean down to the hilly horizon. Here, unknown as the great painter, his last illness seized him ; from his sick bed he could yet see the setting sun, and here he died on the 19th of December, 185 1. His body was conveyed to his house in Queen Anne Street, West, and thence to its last resting-place in the crypt of St. Paul's. CHAPTER XXI. HOWARD, HILTON, HAYDON, AND ETTY. In this chapter we propose to trace the career, marked by struggles and neglect, of four talented men, who devoted themselves to naturalize the grand style in the English school, and to assert its power. They were contemporaries in the schools, and competitors in the race of fame, but one came a few years before the other three, and had a more length- ened career ; and to him we give the precedence. Henry Hoivard, R.A., was born in London, 31st January, 1769. He left school at thirteen with an average education, and a little knowledge of Latin, and then from time to time accompanied his father to and from Paris, and picked up French. Though not intended for an artist, he showed a predilection for drawing, and at the age of seventeen he became the pupil of PhiHp Reinagle, R.A. In 1788 he was admitted a student of the Royal Academy, and in 1790 he gained the two first medals — the first silver medal in the life school, and the gold medal for his original painting of Caractacus, which the president Reynolds informed him, was the best picture which had been submitted to the Academy. Having thus distinguished himself, he determined, in pursuit of his art, to visit Italy, and he set off early in 1791. He went by Pans and Geneva over Mont Cenis to Turin, Milan, Parma, Bologna and Florence, seeing and sketching many of the fine works of art in those cities, arid finally reached Rome. Here he pursued his studies, and painted in competition for the travelling studentship of the Royal Academy a large composition, the figures life-size, of "The Death of Abel, a subject from the text of Gesner." The treatment, which was hardly Scriptural, was unfortunate, and he was not only unsuccessful in his competition, but his work narrowly escaped rejection at the Academy Exhibition in 1794. He returned by Florence, Venice, and Trieste to Vienna, Dresden, and home by Hamburg. He was now in his twenty-sixth year, and well trained for his art career. His tastes led him to the poetic and classic, 248 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. rather than to the more severe and grand style, and in 1795 he exhibited three small-sized pictures, "Puck and Ariel," "Satan Awaking in the Burning Lake," and a portrait ; and in the following year a finished sketch of the " Planets drawing Light from the Sun," — " Hither as to their fountain, other stars Repairing, in their golden urns draw light "— which, with some modifications, he twice repeated, first as " The Solar System," exhibited in 1823, and later on as the ceiling of the Duchess of Sutherland's boudoir. He began by painting poetical and classical works from the English and Latin poets, with occasionally a subject from the Scriptures, and at times found much employment as a portrait painter. He also made a few designs for book illustration, and for the ornamentation of Wedg- wood's pottery ; some of which latter he executed himself on the clay. His classic tastes received further development by his employment in 1799 on a series of drawings for the Dilettante Society, from the antique sculpture in England ; a work which he completed with great accuracy and finish. In 1801 he married Miss Reinagle, ths daughter of his old master, and in the same year was elected an associate of the Royal Academy. In 1808, upon exhibiting his "Christ Blessing Little Children," the figures life-size (a work which is now the altar-piece of the church in Berwick Street, St. James's), he was elected a member of the Academy ; three years later he was appointed to fill the office of secre- tary, and in 1833 was chosen professor of painting. His pictures are in the collections of the Duke of Sutherland, the Marquis of Lansdowne, and in the Soane and Vernon Galleries. He died at Oxford, where he had gone on a visit to his son, 5th October, 1847. Howard will not be able to maintain a high rank in the English school. Distinguished in the outset of his career by the highest honours to be gained as a student, he fell short of the genius that will live. His works are graceful and pretty, marked by propriety, pleasing in com- position ; his faces and expression good, his drawing correct ; but his style cold and feeble. As a lecturer he had little originality of thought ; his matter wanted interest, and failed to catch the mind or impress itself upon the memory of the student. He is a part of our school— a Hnk in the chain — -but he has not exercised much influence either by his pictures or his teaching. His life was uneventful — neither marked by great success nor by failure. He possessed the esteem of his profession. Wtlliam Bilto?i, R.A., was another history painter, whom the Roya Academy may fairly claim as an offspring, and the English school as a representative. With more talent than Howard, and with greater reso. HOWARD, HILTON, HAYDON, AND ETTY. 249 lution, he devoted himself exchisively to high art, and was neither tempted aside by the gains of portraiture nor of applied design. Yet his works, from their large size and subject, were less suited to the public taste, and had, in his day, little chance of finding purchasers. He was the son of a portrait painter at Newark, and was born at Lincoln, 3rd June, 1786. He early showed a love for art, and in 1800 became the pupil of John Raphael Smith, the mezzotint engraver. He entered as a student at the Royal Academy in 1806, and applying himself zeal- ously to anatomy, soon made himself master of the figure. In 18 10 he completed a subject from English history, "The Citizens of Calais De- livering their Keys to King Edward III.," for which he was awarded a premium of fifty guineas by the directors of the British Institution. He next year attempted sacred art, and in 181 1 received from the Institution a second premium of 122/. \os. for his " Entombment of Christ." This was followed by "Christ Restoring Sight to the Blind" and " Mary Anointing the Feet of Jesus " ; and for this latter picture he was fortunate to find purchasers in the directors of the Institution, who gave him. 525/. for it, and in 182 1 presented it to the church of St Michael in the City. We do not find that he had hitherto sold his pictures, yet he quietly and unobtrusively pursued his own high path in art. His father, who lived till 1822, probably continued to assist him with money, yet in his twenty-fifth year, and after producing so many fine works, he must have bitterly felt, gentle as he was in spirit, that he was neglected — his talent without reward. Haydon says : " Hilton, my fellow-student, had been successful in selling his ' Mary Anointing the Feet of Jesus,' in the British Gallery, for 500 guineas, which saved him from ruin. I told him he was a lucky fellow, for I was just on the brink of ruin. ' How ? ' said he. I explained my circumstances, and he immediately offered me a large sum to assist me. This was indeed generous. I accepted only 34/., but his noble offer endeared him to me for the rest of his life. A more amiable creature never lived, nor a kinder heart ; but there was an intellectual and physical weakness iir everything he did." In 1825 Hilton painted his fine work, "Christ Crowned with Thorns." This picture was also purchased by the directors of the British Institution for 1,000 guineas, and was presented by them to the new church of St. Peter, Eaton Square. It has now been bought by the Royal Academy with the money left by the Chantrey Fund. It is a pity that, of one so talented and so well known to a generation of students — to whom we ourselves are indebted for so much friendly teaching — so few facts have been recorded. In his earlier career, his quiet, homely habits, added to his weak health, kept him from society ; and he was by nature opposed to all that brought him into personal 250 • A CENTURY OF PAhNTERS. notice : he gave the pubUc his works ; but he avoided the notoriety which his talents would have gained him. In i8i8 he visited Italy, and was at Rome with his friend Phillips, R.A. He was elected in 1813 an associate of the Royal Academy, and in 1820 a full member. In 1827 he was appointed the keeper of the Academy, an office for which he was specially qualified; and in the following year he married. In 1835 he had the misfortune to lose his wife. Her loss, which to a man of his habits was a severe affliction, aggravated an asthma, from which he had some time suffered ; naturally silent and pensive, he gave way to great depression, and never altogether raUied. He died 30th December, 1839, in his 54th year, of disease of the heart, and was buried in the church- yard of the Savoy chapel ; where his sister — the widow of his true friend, De Wint — has placed a font to his memory. On his death, several of his finest works remained unsold. His '^Christ Delivering Peter," conceived in the same spirit as Raphael's well-known work in the Vatican, was painted during his keepership, and having tempted no purchaser, usually hung in the Lecture Theatre. As students, we recollect it fresh and beautiful, the face of the angel finely conceived and grand in style. Alas ! When we again saw it at the International Exhibition of 1862 it was a mere wreck : the face seemed to have been entirely repainted ; it looked shrunk and weazened, and the other parts of the picture were either corrugated, or gaping in wide glistening fissures. How much truly has the browti school to answer for : ]iow many fine pictures has it brought to utter ruin ! Hilton's art was chilled by neglect, and never fully developed. He was a man of more talent than genius, and not inclined to depart from precedent ; but his reputation will be maintained if his works endure. We have regretted the absence of information necessary to do justice to our notice of Hilton ; but we have no cause for such remark with regard to Benjamin Robert Haydon, who left behind him an auto- biography and a mass of journalism, extending to the last hour of his fitful hfe, which have been published under the careful editorship of Mr. Tom Taylor. He was born at Plymouth 26th January, 1786, and was the son of a bookseller there who claimed a descent from an old Devon- shire family. Having gained a little knowledge of Latin and Greek, and made some attempts at drawing, he was apprenticed to his father's trade ; but of unsettled habits, and preferring art to bookselUng, he de- termined, in spite of the entreaties of his parents, that " he must be a painter." He started for London in May, 1804, with 20/. in his pocket, and set himself closely to his studies. He was by nature obstinately self-willed and self reliant. He had already made anatomy his study, and with the most exaggerated opinion of his own powers he aimed at the highest style in art. He brought with him an introduction to his HOWARD, HILTON, HAYDON, AND ETTY. 251 townsman Northcote, who cynically said to him : — " HeestOrical peinter ! why yee'll starve, with a bundle of straw under your head." But he was neither discouraged nor depressed, by an opinion which after-experience proved too painfully near the truth. In 1805, he was admitted a student of the Royal Academy. In the following year, at the age of twenty-one, he pompously records his commencement : — " Ordered the canvas for my first picture (6 ft. by 4 ft.) of ' Joseph and Mary resting on the road to Egypt,' and on the ist. October, 1806, setting my palette, and taking brush in hand, I knelt down and prayed to God to bless my career, to grant me energy to create a new era in art, and to rouse the people and patrons to a just estimate of the moral value of historical painting." Then, rising with calm gratitude, he tells how "looking fear- lessly at his unblemished canvas, in a species of spasmodic fury, he dashed down the first touch." On the exhibition of his picture he went back to Plymouth for a season " and painted his friends at fifteen guineas a head, a good price, at which he soon got full employment;" and he candidly adds, "execrable as my portraits were, (I sincerely trust that not many survive), I rapidly ac- cumulated money ; not probably because my efforts were thought successful, even by my sitters, but more because my friends wished to give me a lift, and thought that so much enthusiasm deserved encourage- ment." This practice, however, he says, advanced him and gave him confidence, and he recommends it to the young history painter. On his return to town he began his "Dentatus," a commission from Lord Mulgrave ; and after telling us that he was puzzled to death to reconcile the antique forms with his anatomical knowledge in his conception of this figure, he by chance accompanied his friend VVilkie, who had obtained an order to see the Elgin marbles. In a fit of vain enthusiasm, he finds that he has been pursuing the true Grecian road, and exclaims, " Here were the principles which the common sense of the English people would understand ; here were the principles which 1 struggled for in my first picture with timidity and apprehension ; here were the prin- ciples which the great Greeks in their finest time established ; and here was I, the most prominent historical student, perfectly qualified to ap- preciate all this by my own determined mode of study." And then he tells us, " I drew at the marbles ten, fourteen, and fifteen hours at a time, holding a candle and my board in one hand and drawing with the other ; and so I should have stayed till the morning, had not the sleepy porter come yawning in, to tell me it was twelve o'clock; and then I have often gone home cold, benumbed and damp, my clothes steaming up as I dried them ; and so spreading my drawings on the ground, I have drank my tea at one o'clock in the morning with ecstasy, as its warmth trickled through my frame, and looked at my picture, and dwelt on my drawings, A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. and pondered on the change of empires, and thought that I had beert contemplating what Socrates looked at and Plato saw ; and then lifted up with my own high urgings of soul, I have prayed God to enlighten my mind to discover the principles of those divine things, and then I have had inward assurances of future glory, and almost fancying divine influence in my room, have lingered to my mattress bed, and soon dozed into a rich balmy slumber." Haydon's bane was his inordinate, insupportable vanity. Lord Mulgrave, who had given him a commission for the "Dentatus," was courteous to him, and invited him frequently to his table ; but this was too much for his weak head. He says he talked more grandly to his artist friends ( and we may be sure he did, as he owns it ), and that he did not relish the society of the middle-classes; then he tells us— "My room began to fill with people of rank and fashion, and very often I was unable to paint, and did nothing but talk and explain. They all, however, left town at Christmas, and I worked away very hard, and got on well, so that when they returned I was still the object of wonder ; and they continually came to see that extraordinary picture by a young man who never had the advantages of foreign travel. Wilkie was for the time forgotten. At table I was looked at, selected for opinions, and alluded to constantly. ' We look to you, Mr. Haydon,' said a lady of the highest rank, • to revive the art.' I bowed my humble acknow- ledgments, and then a discussion would take place upon the merit and fiery fury of ' Dentatus ' ; then all agreed that it was a fine subject, and then Lord Mulgrave would claim the praise of the selection. Then people would whisper, he has himself an antique head, and then they would look, and some one would differ. Then the noise the picture would make when it was out : then Sir George (Beaumont) would say, that he had always said, that a great historical painter would arise, and that I was he." All this, the poor misguided painter says, he " believed as gospel truth." He believed that the production of his picture " must be considered as an epoch in English art, "and when it proved a failure he laid the blame on the Academy. In i8io he began a third picture — "Lady Macbeth," a commission given to him some time previously by Sir George Beaumont, who wished to befriend him; yet he managed to pick a quarrel with Sir George, and to be sadly, we think, in the wrong. He was in debt and desperate. His father would help him no further, and, "exasperated by the neglect of my family (we use his own words), tormented by the consciousness of debt, cut to the heart by the cruelty of Sir George, fearful of the severity of my landlord, and enraged at the insults of the Academy, I became furious. An attack upon the Academy and its abominations darted into HO WARD, HILTON, HA YDON, AND ETTY. 253 my head. From this moment the destiny of my hfe may be said to have changed." . rr^, t j In this crooked state of mind he began his large picture, The Judg- ment of Solomon," while living in a small confined room, using his blankets or his table-cloth for drapery— suffering from sickness aggra- vated by dreadful necessities ; painting, as he tells us, on one occasion till three o'clock in the morning from ten the morning before, he con- tinued his work, alternating sorrows and suffering with intense enjoy- ments. But, "after the most dreadful application, influenced by an enthusiasm stimulated by despair almost to delirium, living for a fort- night upon potatoes because he would not cloud his mind with the fumes of indigestion, he broke down." His eyesight failed, and while he was in this sad state, his picture began to make a noise, and " West called and was affected to tears at the mother," and though his income from the King had just been stopped, he generously sent Haydon a cheque for 15/. , . j When his " Solomon " was finished he sent it, not to the Academy, but to the Water-colour Exhibition at Spring Gardens, which then admitted oil paintings ; and a prominent centre place was given to the work. He was fortunate. He sold it for 600 guineas, and the British Institution awarded it a premium of 100 guineas. He was raised from the depths of his despair, was at once in the clouds, and again became the fashion. With some money in his pocket he started off to Paris with Wilkie, and enjoyed himself, seeing and commenting upon the great collection of works which then temporarily crowded the Louvre. But returning home, he soon after says in his journal that "not a single commission, large or small," followed his success. He had, before his journey to Paris, begun his " Christ's Entry into Jerusalem." On his return, by paroxysms of application, and long oc- casional fasting, his health became deranged, his eyes suffered, and he was unable to work; still in 1816 he continued to labour upon the "Jerusalem," and in the following year he was engaged on the same great work ; and again suffering in health, but assisted by a friend, he was enabled to remove to a healthy house, with a handsome studio, at Lisson Grove. Here he was visited by beauty and fashion ; and for a time, short indeed, basked in the rays of an illusive prosperity. Haydon's art, his whole existence in fact, was illusory. He thought his talents should make him the pensioner of the State ; and when ad- vised to paint smaller and more saleable works, he said, "All my friends are advising me what to do, instead of advising the Government what to do for me." In 1820, the "Jerusalem" was completed, and was exhibited at the Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly, and we have again his shout of triumphant 2 54 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. success. Money he admits, too, came pouring in, and he kept paying oflF debts ; but not fast enough, for his success brought a multitude of claims, though he received no less than 1,760/. in the season. En- couraged by this, he married, in 182 1, a widow lady, to whom he had been for several years attached. His picture did not, however, find a purchaser, and a subscription set on foot to present it to the church, failed. Subsequently in (1831) it was purchased for only 240/., and sent to America. He had, on the completion of the "Jerusalem," immediately begun another great work, on a canvas 19 feet long by 15 feet high. H's subject was — "The Raising of Lazarus." The first impression of the picture is imposing; the general effect powerful and well suited to the subject ; the incidents and grouping well conceived ; the colouring good, and in parts brilliant. Then the mind, at once fixing upon the chief figure, feels unsatisfied with the Christ. The head is in direct profile and heavy, the eye sleepy and wanting in due expression, and the attempt at calm dignity results in inanition. The drapery is clumsy and loaded upon the right arm and shoulder. The hands are good and are well painted ; but the feet, though also well drawn, seem hardly suited in action to the poise of the figure. The head of the Lazarus is finely conceived and painted ; the mouth and general expression of the muscles of the face still retain the rigidity of death, but the eyes wide open, and fixed upon the Saviour, are filled with an ex- pressive gaze of wonder. When beginning this head, the painter tells us he was arrested, and that with his mind struggling to regain its power he set to work, and scrawling about with his brush, he gave an ex- pression to the eye of Lazarus. " I instantly got interested," he adds, " and before two I had put it in. My pupil, Bewick, sat for it, and, as he had not sold his exquisite picture of ' Jacob,' looked quite thin, and anxious enough for such a head." The Martha is certainly finely con- ceived ; the face, almost colourless from emotion, is well and brilliantly painted, the feeling of sorrowing resignation beautiful ; the whole action of the figure expressive of quiet, subdued grief. The Mary is com- paratively a failure. The St. John is rather extravagant, both in action and expression. The father and mother are good in expression and action, particularly the mother, for whom his washerwoman served as a model. The two Jews are contemptuously expressive without loss of dignity, and the group, including St. Peter, piled upon the cemetery wall, is well conceived— the action and expression good, and the colour and general effect brilliant. The " Lazarus " comprises twenty figures, on a scale of about nine feet high ; the composition is natural and original. Each figure has its appro- priate action and place in the great story. Some parts possess high merits, HOWARD, HILTON, HAYDON, AND- ETTY. 255 and very painter-like qualities, with a peculiar luminous brilliancy of flesh colour unknown in the English school since Reynolds. Can we wonder that there are inequalities in this great work when we see the painter hurried on by his necessities— the enthusiasm and thought of to-day damped and obliterated by the trials of the morrow. In March, 1823, his picture was exhibited, and he records, " It has made the greatest im- pression. No picture I ever painted has been so universally approved of." But the money taken for admission would hardly stop gaps from day to day. Haydon was arrested and thrown into prison, and his picture sold for 300/. On his release from the King's Bench Prison, Haydon tried portrait painting, but notwithstanding all his efforts he was reduced almost to actual want. In 1826 he finished his "Venus Appearing to Anchises," a commission ; and after some scruples sent it to the Academy for exhibition. He notes that this gave much satisfaction ; that he wished to be reconciled to the profession ; and that with a stubborn heart he called upon the members to make peace, and was well received by all. He then began " Alexander Taming Bucephalus," and in the following year his " Euclus " — both commissions— and was again thrown into prison for debt. He appealed to the public through the newspapers, and a public meeting w^as called and subscriptions were raised to restore him to his art and to his family. After painting small subjects and portraits for daily bread Haydon grew apathetic till his hopes were raised by the King's buying his "Mock Election." Nevertheless in 1830 he was again arrested. He had commenced, while surrounded by distress, a large subject— his " Zenophon," and on his release began it on a smaller canvas ; but he was without means, the butcher impudent, the tradesmen all insulting, when Sir Robert Peel gave him a commission for the "Napoleon, " but having named what we should think a liberal price, he offended the rriinister by expressing dissatisfaction on being paid the sum he named. Stirring political times now arrived. Haydon was much excited by the reform agitation, and under this influence painted " Waiting for the Times" which is well known by the mezzotint engraving. In 1832, en- couraged by Earl Grey, he began a sketch for the Reform Banquet, for which his lordship afterwards gave him a commission for 500 guineas. During the greater part of that and of the following year he was busily engaged with all the great men of the Reform party, painting their por- traits into his picture and journaUzing their gossip. He was happy over his work, " a more delightful work an artist never had, " when in the midst of all he was arrested, but was soon released by his generous friends. His painting contained ninety-seven heads, all portraits. When finished h.e exhibited it, but the exhibition did not pay. He was again in 256 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. difficulties and was again assisted by his friends ; the Duke of Sutherland giving him a commission to complete his sketch of Cassandra. His troubles seem to have culminated in 1835. " The agony of my distresses (he says) is really dreadful ; for this year I have principally supported myself by the help of my landlord, and by pawning every- thing of any value I have left, until at last it has come to my clothing : a thing, in all my wants, I never did before." In 1836 he ^yas pro- minent before the committee of the House of Commons on the con- stitution of the Royal Academy, of which body he was again a bitter opponent ; and about the same time began his career as a public lecturer, and for the next two or three years, found engagements which materially assisted in the support of his family. State employment had been the dream of Haydon's life : he had for years persistently teased every Minister who would hsten to him. When therefore the opportunity arrived, and a Royal Commission was issued to carry out the decoration of the New Houses of Parhament — which he claimed as his own suggestion — he was greatly excited; and in 1842 he eagerly, but not without some misgivings, entered into the cartoon com- petition. But great trials and troubles followed; his competition was unsuccessful; the object for which he had all his life contended so ardently was missed; his powers had failed, a life of contention and trouble had at last had its unvarying result. Meanwhile he was painting for his daily bread ; he may be said to have almost lived upon his " Napoleon at St. Helena," which he repeated over and over again ; also " Napoleon in his Bedroom " ; " Meditating at Marengo"; "In Egypt"; "Musing at the Pyramids"; and we know not in how many other moods. In 1844 he notes, "I have painted nineteen Napoleons, thirteen of them ' At Saint Helena ' ; " and he adds, " By heavens ! how many more ! " He had struggled through appalling difficulties. He had known troubles of every complexion; but hitherto his vanity had been in- vulnerable and had sustained him. He was now deeply wounded in spirit ; young men were selected for the work which he had made the ambition of his hfe, and he was contemptuously passed by. Involved in debt, mortified and depressed, he yet began another picture, " Alfred and the Jury." But the struggle had become too hard; "he sat staring at his picture like an idiot, his brain pressed down by anxiety : " and so his mind gave way; and, without warning, on the 22nd June, 1846, he made this sad entry in his journal, "God forgive me! Amen. Finis. B. R. Haydon. 'Stretch me no longer on the rack of this rough world.' • — Lear." And then he died by his own hand. There can be no doubt of Haydon's true love of his art ; it was his ruling passion. He followed it with a fitful enthusiasm, unchilled by HOWARD, HILTON, HAYDON, AND ETTY. 257 the most severe trials; which it would be difficult to say were not, in their excitement, an essential stimulant to his progress and suited to 'his irritable nature. It may be doubted if under more tranquil conditions he would have done more. He seemed at times to begin his pictures without any plan or forethought, and to begin painting in the fervour of his first conception, without even drawing in ; how, then, can it be won- dered that the gross faults they exhibit were often very severely com- mented on ? He was a good anatomist and draughtsman ; his colour was effective, his treatment of his subject and his conception original and powerful; but his works have a hurried and incomplete look; his finish is coarse, sometimes woolly, and is not free from vulgarity. William Etty, R.A., was another man of mark in the British school, who formed a style of his own, which, amidst much discouragement in the beginning of his career, he persevered in until he arrived at great excellence ; introducing a class of subjects which had hitherto been but little attempted, or attempted very imperfectly by our native painters. In one view of his labours he cannot be said to have greatly influenced the school, since he had but one or two followers, and these did not in- herit their master's talent ; thus the apparent result of his works has not been large. Yet his influence on the students of his time was really great ; as must be that of every earnest and patient labourer who really loves his work and is able to attain mastery in it. Etty was born on the loth March, 1787, at York, where his father was a baker, and also owned a mill. He demonstrated his love for art very early by defacing every plain surface. His schooling was short, and he mastered little more than reading and writing; but he was piously taught by his parents who were Methodists. As a boy he was of a reserved and shy, yet affectionate, disposition. In 1798, when in his twelfth year only, he was apprenticed to a printer at Hull, and not- withstanding hard work during long hours, he managed to nourish his love of drawing, conscientiously drudging on during seven years, without giving up the hope of becoming a painter. Then, his printer's work done, an uncle who had settled in London invited him to town, and assisted him in the study he had so zealously commenced. We know, for he was proud to tell us, that his labours during his apprenticeship made future work light to him, and that his late beginning in art only stimulated him to make up for lost time. In 1807, when in his twentieth year, he was admitted a student in the Royal Academy. He was from the beginning one of the most constant in attending the schools, and when he passed from the antique into the life school, he became wholly absorbed in the study of the nude, and permanently formed his style as a flesh painter ; for when he had arrived at a proficiency in the study of the figure that qualified him for admission to paint from the life, he took s • A CENTURY Of PAINTERS. with avidity to the use of the brush and ever after painted his studies ; thus he gained a power over the imitation of flesh, both as to colour and texture, beyond that of any other artist of our school. , . . „ Traditionally, his progress was slow,— so much so that his fellow- students were rather inclined to say " Poor Etty ! " and to think that he had mistaken his vocation ; but his self-confidence never flagged : he went perseveringly onward in the course he had prescribed to himself, and attained such facility and perfection by his persistence, that as new students surrounded him they began to regard him with veneration, and his studies with great admiration ; and, so far as the laws allowed, to imitate his practice. Always among them, and every night during the school sessions, seated with them at their studies, gathering frequently a Uttle party at his home in Buckingham Street to drink tea and to chat over art matters, it is no wonder that his talents and his habits made him a great favourite, and a model for imitation. His first inclination was to paint landscape : he then tried the heroic. In the uncertainty of his aim, he was attracted by the works of Lawrence, and in 1808 became his pupil, bv the liberal help of his uncle. His first attempt did not meet with encouragement. He was an unsuccessful competitor for the Royal Academy medals. His works sent for exhibition were returned to him, and it was not till 181 1 that he gained a place on the walls of the Exhibition. , , , j „ Etty's brush in some degree supplanted the crayon, and a _ great facilitv in its use became the characteristic of the painters who inime- diately succeeded Etty. Some of the older members were inclined to disagree with this mode of study, and when, on his election as a menaber, Ettv still continued to frequent the schools as usual, they thought it, to say the least, irregular. But his habits were too confirmed to change, even if he had not been thoroughly convinced of the value of the mactice. Hence, almost to the end of his life, he was as constant m attendance as in the days of his studentship. In his studies in the schools he seemed to play rather than to labour, so easy was his brush, and such beautiful colour seemed to flow from it, as if accidentally. 1 his is visible in his studies merely commenced and laid in, as well as in those he had most completed. His practice was very simple. He usually drew in his figure with white chalk or charcoal, on a raw mi 1- board, which he then inked in and took home to prepare by merely rubbing size over it. The next evening in the school, he dead-coloured his study in the broadest and simplest manner, taking great care to mark in the relief of the figure from the ground at those points where it was visible in nature, by a close appreciation of the light and dark of the contrast ; and these points he constantly kept m view, and renewed as he proceeded, only rubbing them over with some general uniting tint to HOWARD, HILTON, HAYDON, AND ETTY. 259 form the background when the study was completed. These contrasts of dark upon hght and light upon dark, or of flesh upon colour, of such value for relief and about which he was so careful, are still to be seen in most good studies from his hand ; although it is to be regretted that few remain in an entirely genuine state— many having been altered and completed //V/^?;7«//)/ / for the dealers, by painters who lent themselves to such a practice. He proceeded to finish his studies by passing over the dead colour a glaze of some brown pigment (asphaltum in early days, latterly we think bone brown), dashing in dexterously bold touches of lake in parts— in parts, ultramarine for greys, and then painting his white, slightly charged with Indian red, into the glaze ; often with his scrubbing brush (he loved an old and \vell-worn hog-tool) drawing in touches of pure madder here and there in the finishing, producing great brilliancy of effect in his studies ; and by his dexterous execution, preserving a nicety of tone, beautiful pure tints, and very tender gradations. This is written from remembrance of his manner of working. In his own words, as given in his life by Gilchrist (vol. i. p. 58), it is a little different, yet substantially the same. He writes thus :— " Resolution. First night, correctly draw and outline the figure only. Second night, carefully paint in the figure with black and white and Indian red, for instance. The next, having secured with copal, glaze, and then scumble in the bloom. Glaze into shadows, and touch on the lights carefully— and it is done." By his rapid execution he kept his colour pure and unmuddled, never teazing the tints; and from painting so constantly by gaslight, he became accustomed to great breadth of light and shade. The subjects which he adopted were of a voluptuous character, and arose somewhat out of the nature of his studies, varied by his love of poetry, fairy, and classic lore: such as "Perseus and Andromeda," " Hero and Leander," the " Syrens," &c , mostly chosen with a view to the introduction of the nude. Even when his theme was from history the same feeHng prevailed: as in the "Cleopatra," "The Storm," from the Psalms, and "The Eve of the Deluge." Such he delighted to paint. Above all, he delighted in the beauty of women. He was used to say that, "as all human beauty was concentrated in woman, he would dedi- cate himself to painting her." His first picture exhibited at the Royal Academy in 181 1, was " Antiope Rescued by Telemachus from the Wild Boar." His first which gained him reputation was " Cleopatra Sailing Down the Cydnus," now in the possession of Lord Taunton ; and to which Leslie refers when he says, " One morning he woke famous, after the opening of the exhibition." This was in the spring of 182 1, when this picture was given to the world. From painting direct from nature Etty was apt to introduce some of the false individualities of common s 2 26d A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. life, and the bad proportions of his models ; but there was always a superadded grace and style even in their faultiness. The "Cleopatra" is traditionally said to have been painted with a large addition of wax to the medium, and has suffered much since it was first executed. Never- theless, even now the flesh painting maintains as happy a medium between the silvery hue and the rosy as it is possible to achieve. But Etty was not content to remain a painter of cabinet-sized pictures. He possessed a strong feehng for the heroic, and early set himself a great task— that of painting a series of pictures of heroic subjects, with ti^ures the size of life. Two years after his fame was initiated by the exhibition of the "Cleopatra," the president, Lawrence, bought his " Pandora Crowned by the Seasons," a work which confirmed his talent, and won his admission to the associateship of the Royal Academy ; and now he determined to begin what he had for sometime contemplated — the large works by which he hoped to win still higher fame. He com- menced with "The Combat— Woman Pleading for the Vanquished." The subject represents two combatants just at the crisis of their struggle. The younger is wounded and is forced on to his knees, his broken sword at his feet, his long hair in the grasp of his terrible adversary, who is about to give him the death stroke. A woman, rushing forward, throws herself at the feet of the victor ; clasping him, in the energy of her ap- peal for mercy— by voice, by look, by action — she restrains him from vengeance. . j ^ i u u Here are all the materials for a noble picture, and finely has the painter availed himself of them. The forms are heroic ; the drawing is grand and large ; there is not the slightest appearance of mere posed models ; there is no pause in the action ; the muscles are in full play, starting with the energy of the strife. The modelling and painting of the flesh are very fine, and place Etty high as a colourist in a school which is at least a school of colour. In this picture he was the inventor, as well as the painter, of his story. In the next of this series of heroic works, Etty took his subject from the Scriptures, and treated it with great originality, and in a manner unlike that of any of his predecessors in art. To show that he was prepared to meet difficulties, he chose a continuous action— a drama as it were, in three acts, and requiring three separate canvases to give its beginning, middle, and end. The theme he chose was the delivery of the Jewish people from the armies of Holofernes by the hand of Judith. There is fine drawing and grand action in the figures of these pictures, although they are more especially pictures of colour. It must be remembered that Etty painted these great works without a commission, and with small hopes of a purchaser. Martin, the painter, himself not troubled with wealth, bought the " Combat," it is said, for HOWARD, HILTON, HAYDON, AND ETTY. 261 200/., a sum small in those days, — ridiculous in our own, when dne: of Etty's cabinet pictures, "Perseus and Andromeda," has realized 1,500/. ; but it was highly to Martin's honour to have appreciated his brother painter's talent, when the rich and the titled overlooked it ■ and it is a great satisfaction that this, with the other nob'e pictures we have men- tioned, has found a fitting resting-place in the Royal Scottish Academy. It cannot be said, however, that Etty's talents, and the beauties so, visible in his works, nor even their fine colour (a quality that, as seizing the eye, is more readily appreciated by the uninstructed than those which appeal to the mind) won the painter present fame or, profit. There were other causes besides a want of perception of their merits that prevented his pictures from being sought after by the public. Though himself a particularly pure-minded man, with a most chivalrous respect for women, it must be allowed that many of his pictures were of a very voluptuous character, and clashed with the somewhat prudish temper of the age. There has always been a stronger objection to the nude figures of the painter, than to the more tangible works of the sculptor ; this had to be slowly overcome. It was difficult to tolerate such works from a living artist, in pictures in their first glow of beauty and freshness — unspoiled with age and fiddle-brown varnish ; so that those who saw no objection to cover their walls with such subjects as " Lot and his Daughters, " " David and Bathsheba, " or "Joseph and the Wife of Potiphar, " if reputed to be from the hand of a Guido or a Caracci, could not tolerate the nude from a native painter, even when the subject itself was unobjectionable. Though a great student of nature, Etty's imitation was ever general rather than individual : perhaps no one painted flesh more largely from the living model than he did ; but how unlike it is to the microscopic detail of the works of Denner, or to the ivory smoothness of those of Vandervverf. His landscape, although but an accessory and background to his groups, is treated with the same largeness of imitation ; no details are there, but the happiest rendering is given of the general colour or tone of nature, in true accord with the feeling of the subject. When his collected works, 130 in number, were exhibited in his honour at the Society of Arts, in June, 1849, he came up to London to be present at the exhibition, and was much moved by the congratulations of his friends. In answer to our inquiries, he then pointed to his " Hero and Leander," as his favourite and best work. Early in his career Etty paid a short visit to Italy. In i8i6, assisted by his brother, he set out on a long-contemplated journey to see the Continental schools. In 1822 he paid a more lengthened visit, and during his eighteen months' stay, saw Rome, Florence, Naples, and Venice, and copied some of the great works of the ItaUan school, par- 262 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. ticularly the Venetian. In 1824 he was elected an associate of the Royal Academy, and in 1828 a full member : and he then began the series of large pictures we have mentioned. From 1826 to 1848 he lived in Buckingham Street, Adelphi. Then his health failing, he retired to his own city of York, to which he was fondly attached ; and there he died, 13th November, 1849, and was buried in a quiet corner of the churchyard of St. Olave, almost within the shadow of the old Cathedral he loved so well. In person Etty was short and thick-set, with somewhat massive features, deeply scarred with small-pox ; he had a face expressive of great benevo- lence, and a head large — disproportionately large indeed — ^but tending to a look of power. Slow in speech and slow and measured in action, both rather increasing in late years from an asthmatic affection ; he had a kindly and gentle nature, and an extreme simplicity of character. Such is our recollection of Etty, and we are told further, that his tender nature was shown by his repeatedly falling in love with one fair object after another ; which we can well believe, though he was in his habits decidedly a bachelor, and he died unmarried. CHAPTER XXII. TABLEAUX DE GENRE. — WILKIE, MULREADY, AND LESLIE. In the English school, genre pictures may be said to take their rise from Hogarth, whose works were of cabinet size, and of a dramatic, rather than historic tendency. After his death, although small pictures were occasionally painted by Zoffany, Hamilton, Peters, and others, yet the general efforts of our figure painters, stimulated by the example of Barry, West, and Copley, were for a time directed to works of the scale of life, and to subjects of a religious or historic character, rather than to those domestic and familiar incidents from home life and the affections which in France have obtained the name of Tableaux de Genre, and which we, from want of a better, have hitherto consented to call by the same name. It was, however, soon apparent that our countrymen cared little for battle pieces ; nor were they desirous of seeing the sacred sub- jects of their creed surrounding them in their every day life. In England the churches are not open to the painter's art, and the burgesses and aldermen of our provincial towns were little likely to forego the pleasures of the table at the guild and corporation feasts, that the walls of the guild-halls might be decorated at the expense of their good cheer. Hence the zeal for producing works of heroic size could not be expected to endure, since, even were he disposed to forego the due reward of his labours, the artist could find no place to display them. It was soon found that pictures to suit the English taste must be pictures to live by ; pictures to hang on the walls of that home in which the Englishman spends more of his time than do the men of other nations, and loves to see cheerful and decorative. His rooms are comparatively small, and he cannot spare much wall-space for a single picture. His eye, too, must be pleased before his mind, and colour is to him one of the first sources of gratification. No doubt our school suffered somewhat by this change from heroic and religious to familiar art— suffered in the grandeur of its attempts at 264 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. least, more especially in the estimation of Continental nations — and really suffered by adopting too generally subjects of a somewhat tame and familiar class, to the exclusion of the ideal and the poetical. It gained, however, in care, in refinement of execution, in attention to the completion of the parts and in the perfection of the work as a whole. We find that soon after the beginning of the present century, several painters almost simultaneously rose into notice, whose works had at least a common likeness, in that they were of cabinet size and bore somewhat the same relation to historic art that the tale or the novel does to history. It is our intention to take three of these painters who held the highest place in public estimation, and from their practice to illustrate the new direction which art took in their hands. It is noteworthy that these three artists, whom all will admit to have attained the highest eminence in this class of art, should at the same time represent the three sections of our countrymen ; that in Wilkie, Scotland, in Mulready, Ireland, and in Leslie, England, have reason to be proud of men who have left behind them pictures so varied in manner, so original in treatment, and so characteristic of British art as to be wholly different from those of any other country. It will enable us to develop the progress of art of this class if, in the first instance, our attention is confined to the works of these three representative men ; afterwards noticing those of their companions and fellow labourers in the "same walk who were their contemporaries or successors. David Wilkie, the Scotch representative of the branch of art we are now entering upon, was the oldest of the three painters whom we have included in this chapter. He was born on the i8th of November, 1785, at Cults, in the county of Fife, of which place his father, also named David, was at that time the minister. The painter was his third son. The minister, it seems, if his own assertion may be accepted, married for his first wife a lady of great beauty ; for he enters in his diary of October 18th, 1776, "Was this day married to one of the most beautiful women of Fife." He lost her in the short space of five months, and shortly after married a far away cousin ; perhaps from gratitude, since through her father's influence he had received his call to Cults. She, too, was shortly taken from him ; and for a third wife the minister took the notable daughter of a neighbouring miller of the village of Pitlassie, of whom the painter was the third child. It may be presumed that, with an increasing family and the small stipend of a minister of the Scotch Church of that day, the young David would be brought up with the strictest frugality. A few acres of glebe and a stipend of 100/. a year must be carefully laid out to secure neces- saries, let alone luxuries ; and much of the artist's frugality of disposition, many of his acquisitive habits must have been owing to the teachings of WILKTE, MULREAD V, AND LESLIE. 265 his early life — this acquisitiveness, be it noted, was of the best kind, since, it led him to gather at all times every sort of material for his art, and to acquire art knowledge as well as riches. As with all other painters, we hear of Wilhie's precociousness ; that he drew before he wrote, which most children do, and that ere his seventh year, when he was sent to the village school of Pitlassie, he surprised his parents by chalking a head on the floor, and by drawing on the walls. While at Pitlassie school he improved in the use of his pencil if he gained little else, and when over- taxed by his schoolfellows with demands for sketches and portraits, he cannily turned his skill to small profit by demanding slate-pencils, marbles, pens, &c. in return. As he advanced in boyhood, we are told by his biographer that he was a great observer of workmen and their habits and actions ; even gaining skill in some handicrafts. This talent of observation will be more especially spoken of when we note his pictures ; it is one that in- dicates the true painter more than all the scribblings on the margins of books, or even the portrait-sketches of his schoolfellows ; on which much stress is laid, but which is common more or less to all boys. In Fifeshire, beyond a portrait or two by Sir Joshua, there were no pictures to inspire the prospective painter, and although he was occa- sionally thrown into the company of David Martin, yet that artist died before Wilkie was twelve years old. As the lad grew in years his love of art increased, and the minister soon felt that his son was set upon being a painter. This choice was hardly one that could be pleasing to the Presbyterian clergyman, who would doubtless consider art as one ot "the lusts of the eye " ; nor was it more agreeable to the lad's maternal grandfather, for the miller and elder had set his heart upon little David's becoming a minister like his father: still, when the parents of the lad saw that his bent was decidedly for art, they cast about for the best means of cultivating his talents, and after some hesitation upon the i)art of the secretary, who doubted the lad's fitness, he was admitted into tlie Trustees' Academy at Edinburgh, and studied there under John Graham, in company with William, afterwards Sir William Allan, John Burnet, and Alexander Fraser. Wilkie himself confirmed this doubt, for advert- ing to his having obtained an entrance to the school with difficulty and chiefly through the influence of the Earl of Leven, he says, "I for one can allow no ill to be said of patronage ; patronage made me what I am, for it is plain that merit had no hand in my admission." When admitted, however, the young artist was a most diligent student, readily appre- hending the character and sentiment of what he was at work upon. He speedily sent home to his parents some specimens of his studies from the antique ; which, alas ! were Greek indeed to the village worthies, for when they were shown to one of the kirk elders, taking up a drawing 266 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. of a foot he inquired of the minister, " And what is this, sir ? " " It is a foot," rephed the minister. " A foot ! " exclaimed the elder, " it is mair like a fluke [a flounder] than a foot." The youth, however, was soon to achieve a work moie comprehensible by the elders and villagers of his native place. Young Wilkie left Edinburgh and the Trustees' Academy in 1804 and returned for a while to his father's village. Unlike many other artists he seems at once to have found the true bent of his genius and the class of subject best suited to his powers. In the adjoining village of Pitlassie, where the family of his mother resided, there was an annual fair held, and the strange characters, the rustic humours, the many incidents of merchandise and barter common to such gatherings, were taken by the young artist for the subject of his first picture, which he began in August, 1804, and finished within the year. Though a work of small size, it contains much subject and many figures, and enables us to see that Wilkie was a diligent as well as a ready workman. As far as execution goes, "Pitlassie Fair" seems painted at once, and in most cases direct from nature. It has little promise of the colour and tone which he subsequently sought and achieved. A red rank hue pervades the picture ; and we see the flat manner and want of textural truth, com- bined with a certain broadness of touch, that prevailed with the artists of the day. The work, moreover, is allied to the Dutch school in some of its incidents, which are such as in after years he would have rejected from his canvas. His early skill in handling is seen in the execution of some of the accessories, the crates of pottery, the tables, and other pro- ducts displayed in the fair. It perhaps arises from the onceness of execution above alluded to, and the simplicity of his materials, that the picture has stood so perfectly, while others of his works have well nigh perished ; and ■whatever faults or shortcomings it may evidence, it certainly is an extraordinary work for a lad of nineteen years of age. Wilkie remained some time at Cults, engaged in painting the portraits of persons in the neighbourhood, and even made trips to other Scotch towns in search of sitters. But his ambition led him beyond the narrow bounds of a Scotch village, and he determined to start for London. He had carefully husbanded his gains by portraiture, and having sold his picture of the " Fair" for 25/. to Mr. Kinnear, he took his passage from Leith on the 20th May, 1805, to try his fortune in the great city. Wilkie's first endeavour on his arrival in London was to obtain admission as a student in the Royal Academy. He found the rooms in which the schools are held occupied by the annual exhibition, and it was only on its close, at the end of July, that he was entered as a pro- bationer. Here he became acquainted with Jackson, the portrait painter, who describes him in a letter to Haydon (also a student) as a " tall, pale, WILKIE, MULREAD V, AND LESLIE. 267 thin Scotchman." A lad of delicate health then, he continued all his life to suffer from maladies which baffled the acumen of his physicians, which often interposed to prevent his labours, and which finally carried him off at a time of life when the world might have hoped to see many more fine works by his hand. Wilkie, on his arrival, had taken lodgings in Norton Street, Portland Place, and with the usual providence of his countrymen, he sought to make proper provision for the future. He had brought to London with him the small picture of " The Recruit " ; this he found means to display in a window near Charing Cross, where it met with a purchaser at the modest price of six pounds, which our painter was glad to add to his little store. He gradually advanced in the Royal Academy schools from the antique to the life- school, and studied from the living model with great interest and satisfaction, and this while he was at work at pictures which were gradually raising him to great reputation. But at this point we will leave him for a while, to bring the other two painters whom we have chosen as representative men to the same point of comparison. William Mulready, the Irish representative of the class of art of which we are now treating, was born on the ist of April, 1786, at Ennis, in the county of Clare. His father followed the trade of a leather breeches maker, and was a master workman in his craft. Shortly after the birth of his talented son, he removed to Dublin with his family, where he continued to carry on his trade for a while ; but he passed over to London about the time that the lad was five and a half years old, and took up his abode in Old Compton Street, Soho. The boy had already shown some aptitude for drawing ; having, it is said, at three years old copied a hare with sufficient accuracy to be known without labelling. In 1805 appeared a httle book, called The Looking Glass ; a mirror in which any little boy or girl may see what he or she is, and those who are not quite good may find out what they ought to be. This book is said to have been written by W. Godwin, under the name of Theophilus Marcliffe, and is the history and early ad- ventures of a young artist. It is known that it was compiled from con- versations with Mulready, who was then engaged in illustrating some juvenile books for the author; and the facts in it related to the painter's early life. It is now very scarce. It contains illustrations of the talent of the subject of the tale, done at three, five and six, years old, and pre- sumed to be imitations of Mulready's own drawing at the same age. Many children at a like age produce such works, which are made no account of when the after bent of the youth is not to art, but which are looked upon as treasures of precocious genius, when in riper years, study or accident have developed the lad mto a painter. Soon after the arrival of the family in London, young Mulready was 268 A CENTUR Y OF PAINTERS. put to school. But the parents of Mulready were members of the " old faith," as he used to designate it ; and at ten years of age the boy was removed to a school kept by a Roman Catholic, and afterwards placed under the Irish chaplain of the Neapolitan ambassador, who gave in- struction at No. 7, Newman Street. Here young Mulready continued nearly two years, learning a little Latin, besides the usual English rudiments. At the end of that time, Mr. Ryan was unfortunately burned to death, and the lad was transferred to another Catholic teacher, who resided in the neighbourhood of Buckingham Gate. It is not possible to say what amount of knowledge the youth obtained under these various masters. In after life he claimed to be able to read the /Eneid in its original tongue, and was able to detect a false quantity in one, who, presuming him to be ignorant, undertook boastfully to interpret to him a quotation from that work. He, at least, knew the Greek alphabet, since on a sheet of sketches and small pen-and-ink hint& as to the mode of thinking out his pictures, there are many memoranda written in its characters. By some means Mulready "was thrown into the way of artists, since Mr. Graham, who was engaged in painting one of the subjects for Macklin's Bible, "David Instructing Solomon," exhibited at the Academy 1797, saw the boy, and, struck with his beauty and fair pro- portions, made interest with the father to let him sit to him as a model for the young prince. No doubt this admission to the study of an artist stimulated young Mulready, already prepared to love and take a delight in art ; and this makes the wonder less, that we find him while yet of a mere schoolboy age, endeavouring to get into the only really good school where he could at that time study— the school of the Royal Academy. When only just thirteen he applied to Banks, the sculptor, for a letter to the keeper, in order to gain admission as a student. He took with him a copy in chalk from a cast of the Apollo. Banks saw dawnings of ability in the boy, although the work was hardly sufUcient to win him entrance. He recommended him to try again and return in a month — advised him to join a drawing academy in Furnival's Inn Court, and on the failure of that school very shortly afterwards, allowed the young lad to study in his own gallery. From this time he drew in Banks's studio, and under the sculptor's eye, for nearly twelve months ; after the first six his kind instructor thought he might send in a figure to the Council, but his drawing from the Hercules was not approved ; at the end of that time, however, the keeper, struck with a drawing the boy had made from a statue by Michael Angelo, admitted him to draw as a probationer with the other pupils ; and a few weeks after, when fourteen years and six months old — that is, in October, 1800 — he gained his student's ticket. About the same time WILKIE, MULREADY,AND LESLIE. 269 he obtained the greater silver palette of the Society of Arts; and it is said that from the day he completed his fifteenth year he required no more aid from his parents. What the works were on which he was employed when he thus went forth to fight the battle of life alone, it is not possible now to tell ; he used to say that he had tried his hand at everything, from a miniature to a panorama ; we know that all his life he was a teacher, and he declared of himself that he had passed through life as a drawing-master, giving a little of his superfluous time to painting. Perhaps this life-long habit of teaching others may lead to the secret of the careful completion that marked all he did ; to that habit of making sure of everything before- hand, of studying out all the parts and details that he might be accurate and assured in all he said, and, moreover, able thoroughly to convince oihers that he knew to the bottom what he was employed upon. How Mulready became first acquainted with John Varley, the water- colour painter, is not told ; whether during his country journeys to sketch, or at his home in London where Varley gathered many of the rising artists of the day. From that little school, Mulready, Linnell, W. Hunt and others, no doubt learnt much of the love of art. Mul- ready there found his wife, who was a sister of Varley's. The young painter seems to have entered upon his married life with much less thought and prudence than he gave to his art life : before he was eighteen years of age, and when he must really have been earnmg his daily bread, he was a husband ; before he was nineteen, a father. Four sons were the issue of the marriage, which, to say the least, was not a fortunate one : the j^air were early separated and never afterwards lived together. It has been said that Mulready began, as other young artists have done, and as it is inferred students in the Royal Academy must do, by attempting works in the grand style ; that among his first productions in this way were "Ulysses and Polyphemus" and the "Disobedient Prophet ; " that these were his first offerings to the Academy exhibition, and were both rejected, and that from 1804 till 1807 all his exhibited works are landscape studies. His first attempts in figure painting, which were exhibited, however, were " Old Kasper," from Southey's Battle of BleTiheim, in 1807, and "The Rattle," in 1808, both sent to the British Institution ; and both subjects treated famiharly and founded on Dutch art. The only evidence that Mulready ever contemplated high art was afforded by his picture of "The Supper at Emmaus," painted in 1809, which was never exhibited till 1864. Thus, at the early age of nineteen, we find Mulready a student of some five years' standing in the Royal Academy, and one who had already " given hostages to fortune " as a husband and a father. We know, from 27a A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. the number of his works of about this period — studies he left behind him, both from the antique and the life — that he was a diligent student then, and that all his life long he continued to work and to take the deepest interest in the schools. His last words in evid- ence before the Royal Academy Commission, " I have, from the first moment I became a visitor in the life-school, drawn there as if I were drawing for a prize," — testify to this, if we had not the stronger evidence of the wonderful studies that he wrought on up to almost the last days of his life. Here, following the arrangement we have adopted, we will turn to the life of Leslie (the third of the trio whom we have classed together), preparatory to entering into some comparison of their labours and the mfluence they have had on our national art. Charles Robert Leslie, the youngest of the three artists, was born in London on the i ith October, 1794. In the short autobiography which he has left, the painter does not give the exact place of his birth, but only tells us that his first recollections were of living in a house in Portman Place, Edgware Road. Though born in our metropolis, Leslie was of American parentage, being the son of Robert Leslie and Lydia Baker, natives of Maryland, both originally of British descent. Robert Leslie, the father of the painter, was a clock and watchmaker, who, settling in Philadelphia, took a partner into his business, and then, in 1793, made a voyage to London with all his family, in order to purchase stock-in-trade on advantageous terms in the mother country. His stay in England extended over several years. Some months after his arrival Charles Robert was born, it is said, in Clerkenwell, where the manufacturers of clocks and watches then, as now, mostly resided. His partner dying, the father was con- strained to return to America, taking his family with him. The journey was in many respects a long and troublesome one. The United States were then at war with France, and the American ship in which the family sailed was attacked by a privateer of superior force, which, though beaten off, inflicted so much damage on their vessel, that it was necessary to put into Lisbon to refit. Battered by fight, and tossed by tempests, the voyagers did not reach Philadelphia until the nth May, 1800. They had left London on the 13th September, 1799, and had been seven months and twenty-six days on their tedious passage. The watchmaker found his affairs greatly entangled, and he was obliged to begin a lawsuit with the executors of his partner. The trouble and anxiety attendant on this suit preyed upon his mind, and before his eldest son was, ten years of age, he was left, with the rest of the young family, to the care of a widowed mother. Leslie ever spoke warmly and tenderly of his father's kindness and affection, and those who had the happiness to know him when himself a parent, can well feel that, if WILKIE, MULREADY,AND LESLIE. 271 his father resembled him, sad and deep indeed must have been the loss ; for one more tender, or more devoted to his children than the painter, it is hardly possible to picture to ourselves. At the father's death the widow was left in very straitened circum- stances, and was obliged to eke out her means by opening a boarding- house, whilst the eldest daughter aided to maintain the household by teaching drawing in the families of the 'once capital city. The citizens of Philadelphia seem to have shown much consideration for the widow, and kindliness for her fatherless children. The professors of the university abated their charges in favour of the boys ; although the painter con- fesses that the liberality of the professor of mathematics was not met by corresponding exertions on the part of his pupil. He felt but little interest in the study, and little power in its prosecution ; the mathematical faculties being, perhaps, those least active of the many qualities that go to make up a perfect painter. Meanwhile the boys, in the summer and autumn, were frequent visitors to the farmhouses in the neighbourhood, where uncles and aunts, both on the father's and mother's side, practised, the primitive occupations of farmers and millers, on the pleasant creeks of the Brandywine ; where the painter learnt to enjoy the loveliness of natural scenery, and treasured up for his future years happy memories of the country sports, the free kindly manners, and the harvest frolics of the people. But life wore on, the boy Charles approached his fourteenth year, and it was time to determine his course in life. He himself tells us his early wish was to be a painter ; but the widow knew that with her straitened means she could not afford him proper instruction. She herself thought of the more business-like profession of an engraver ; but herein, too, the education was difficult, and the success uncertain ; and finally the boy was bound apprentice to the firm of Bradford and Inskeep, booksellers and publishers of the city of his abode. Mr. S. Bradford, the senior partner, was a true man of business, and wished his young assistant to devote his whole heart to his duties. The boy loved painting, and ever lingered at the print-shop windows, or made a hasty visit, when on errands of business, to the open studio of Mr. Sully, the principal painter of the city, whereby not only his love of art increased, but also his sense of what was good and beautiful in its practice. The old bookseller at first repressed his attempts. " If he found me drawing," says Leslie, " he shook his head, and seemed so much displeased, that the most distant hope of his ever assisting me to become a painter, never entered into my mind." But man proposes, and God disposes. What the apprentice wished, and the master objected to, was at length to be brought about by his very means, and he eventually aided, with great liberality, in our painter's art education. A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. This event happened on the occasion of the visit of George Frederick Cooke, the Enghsh tragedian, on a starring engagement to Philadelphia. The young painter — a great lover of the stage — was present at the first representation of Richard, and was deeply impressed with the actor's powers. He managed to make from recollection a telling sketch of tlie tragedian, which astonished the sedate bookseller, who henceforth encouraged him to practise his art. A friend carried this sketch to the Exchange Coffee House, at the hour when it was most thronged with men of business. The work was considered wonderful for so young a lad, and the good bookseller, contributing liberally himself, found no difficulty in raising a fund sufficient to enable the young artist to visit Europe for two years' study. Before leaving America, Leslie received some instructions in the use of his materials from Mr. Sully, to whom he had been introduced. Copying part of a picture in Leslie's presence, the painter put his palette into his pupil's hands, and required him to proceed as far on another canvas. This he continued from day to day until both copies were finished, and the pupil had learnt at least the accidence of his art, and understood what was meant by scumbling, glazing, and other executive processes. Leshe's execution continued throughout life to be of the simplest character ; his vehicle, latterly at least, was merely Hnseed oil, and he rejected systematically those executive processes which serve to enrich and give brilliancy to the pigments, and to produce variety in the handling of a picture : but this we shall have to speak of more fully in treating of his art. Leslie sailed from New York on the iith of November, 1811, provided with letters of introduction to West, Beechey, and other artists. He took lodgings in Warren Street with a Mr. Moore, who had also come from America to study, a youth but two years older than himself, and the two began to devote their days to painting, their evenings to the Royal Academy. West and Allston opened their studios to one they looked upon as their countryman. They permitted him to see their works in progress, aided him with counsel and advice, and introduced him to society. In West's gallery he made several copies, but whether of the president's own works he does not give us to understand. The British Museum contained the Townley collection of marbles, and these LesHe studied, besides rising at six in the morning to join his friend Moore in working from the Elgin collection, at that time at Burlington House. Leslie placed little value on instruction, and thought that, given the materials for study, every man will best instruct himself. He found that Fuseli paid little attention to the students, and he approved of this course ; telling us " that under Fuseli's wise 7ieglect, Wilkie, Mulready, WILKIE, MULREADY, AND LESLIE. 273 Etty, Landseer, and Haydon distinguished themselves, and were the better for not being made all alike by teaching." He s-,vs "Art mav be but cannot be taugkt;' a maxim that^ounds wel buf puS a part for the whole ; for though invention and feeling cannot be taught! he language m which they are to be expressed n?ay : young painters have many difficulties as to drawing and the executive prSce^sses of paintmg, which ariay be cleared away by judicious advice and teaching tne t.ue gilt of nature to the born artist While following out his studies in his own manner, Leslie did not forget that he must find means to Hve, and he seems early to have gained employment in portraiture of the small size, which he continued to adopt through life. Allston introduced him into societ^, anS he soon threw off the gloom that had gathered around him at the first feeling of the lonehness of his situation; while his cheerful nature, always hiahly appreciative of wit and humour, seems to have made all who came Se^r him fast and constant friends. Here, then, we find the three painters whom we have chosen as representative men in this class of art, past the first period of study, and coming before the pubhc with their works; let us before proce^edin^ with their career as mdividuals, endeavour to compare them with each other, to arrive at their several characteristics, and the points in which they advanced British art. We may safely say that the education they received, while it armed them with technical knowledge and executive power, did not in any way interfere with their ongmality. If we compare^he methods of the^three m he conduct of their pictures we shall find their practice very diverse Wilkie began by arough blot of the treatment, afterwards preparing a somewhat finished sketch in oil. He at times made a few studies of fhe action of the hands, but his real work was direct from the life on the canvas ; and, aWiough he altered and changed the action of the hands I mo?e f ^"^^"^^ ^ fig-^' - -bstifuted a more for a less characteristic model, yet he retained the general fket?h"^TT^T?"^7'T''''' ^f""''^^ "^'"^ composition of his arb tra'rv > ""a'^^T '^"^"^^^ ^^^^ t'^^^s somewhat arbitrary, and it was dirhcult to assign them to any definite object or form; but having pleased him in the sketch, he was very solicitous to keep them m the same place and of the same quality in his picture and often took much pains to invent suitable details for the purpose The young artist, to whom such hints are most valuable, may study the ingenious way in which the small blots of red have been carried round he somewhat grey and slaty picture of " The Blind Fiddler." As to the alterations Wilkie made m the progress of his pictures, we find frequen? 274 A CENTURY OF PAINTERS. allusions in his diaries such as, " Rubbed out to-day what I did yester- day." " Made several alterations in my picture," &c. As he advanced in art and obtained more power, he seems to have made his previous sketches slighter, and to have painted more at once on the panel or canvas. In "The Sacrament of John Knox, " left un- finished at his death, and of which a previous sketch exists, heads and hands, painted at once to a very low key consistent with the chiaroscuro of the finished work, are surrounded by the colour of the raw canvas, and no doubt would have fallen properly into their places as the work proceeded ; as it is, they show the certainty with which he latterly carried on his pictures. Mulready appears to have begun his works after much more pre- paration even than Wilkie. Before beginning a picture, we find "first thoughts " for it in pencil, blots in pen and ink, larger sketches in chalk, and then frequently a small completed sketch in oil. After this stage Mulready often made slight sketches of individual figures ; studies for varied actions of the hands or the head, changed attitudes, variations in character or expression. At times when he had found a characteristic model, Mulready still further enlarged and thought out a study from it in pen and ink, or in chalk ; and after all, more especially for his later works, put the whole together in a most elaborate and highly finished cartoon— finished with such care and anxiety that these works are almost equal in beauty to his pictures. He seemed to have a great dislike to losing his ground, and always to have drawn his picture most carefully on the panel or canvas before commencing with colour. If, which was rarely the case, he did alter after the work was begun, the part changed was carefully removed to the ground. The habit of preparing careful cartoons, and of drawing the work elaborately on the canvas, grew on him latterly, and his cartoons became more elaborate, as may be seen in his unfinished one of "The Bathers with Lizards." LesUe in his mode of beginning his pictures differed wudely from both Mulready and Wilkie. His practice was the very opposite of Mulready's ; Wilkie's being as it were between the two. We may presume that Teshe made some sketch of the arrangement of his picture previous to beginning to paint, although there is Uttle or no material of this kind by his hand. Certainly he did not like to exhaust himself by making pre- vious studies either for the whole picture or separate parts. He mostly painted direct from the model on to his canvas, seizing any happy attitude or expression that arose naturally ; consequently he often made changes in the progress of his work, and removed and destroyed very beautiful passages in his pictures, to adopt some better or more graceful action that arose as he proceeded, and pleased him by its novelty. He is said not to have given much trouble to his sitters, often hardly re- WJLKIE, MULREADY, AND LESLIE. 275 quiring them to pose for him, but merely referring to nature at various points of his work, or when difficulties occurred. From these two causes his pictures generally seem produced without labour ; they delight us by th eir freshness and ease, and are the very opposite to the elaborate and somewhat over-studied excellence of Mulready. In one respect Leslie differed wholly from Wilkie and Mulready in the choice of his subjects. The two latter, as soon as they had emerged from historic art, began by inventing the incidents which they painted. Such were " The Village Politicians," "The Card Players," " The Barber's Shop," and " The Fight Interrupted," subjects in which truth of character, humour, and close observation of nature were the great requisites. Leslie, on the contrary, passed from the "grand historic period " of the student^ to thenllusfration of incidents in the works of the poets and classic writers, and continued through life to choose such subjects for his pencil. They presented to him an added difficulty which did not lie in the way of those chosen by his two contemporaries ; since all who have read Goldsmith or Sterne, Cervantes or Shakspeare (but especially the latter two), have formed for themselves special ideas of the principal characters in these works, and are apt to object at once to a new or tangible representation of them, either by the actor or the painter. In this very difficult position, Leslie was pre-eminently successful in realizing characters in harmony with the general idea; and entering into the true spirit of the poet or writer, has placed before their eyes a bodily presentment of the being with which the author had filled their imagination. As a pa.inter, Mulready almost wholly avoided this difficulty, his principal pictures being subjects and incidents of his own invention. It is true that after the publication of Van Voorst's edition of the Vicar of Wakefield, \yh\c\\ Mulready illustrated, he was induced to carry out some of the designs into pictures, and also true that one or two of these rank as his best works ; but it is more for their beautiful art, their colour and completion, than from his having mastered the characters of whom Goldsmith wrote. No one can accept the figure making hay, in the " Haymakers "—almost a portrait of the painter himself— as the Burchell of Goldsmith ; or the young lady with the rake in the same picture as the simple-minded Sophia. Like Mulready, Wilkie took few of his subjects from writers or poets, although he di