V Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2014 https://archive.org/details/johncassellsarttOOcass TTALT OF CAVALIERP. FTJOM A PAINTING BY WOUVERMANS, JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION: CONTAINING- ENGRAVINGS OF THE PRINCIPAL MASTERPIECES OF WITH BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF THE PAINTERS, AND CRITICAL NOTICES OF THEIR PRODUCTIONS. LONDON: W. KENT AND CO., 51 & 52, PATERNOSTER ROW. 1858. IA)ND0N : PETTEK AND GALPIN, PRINTERS, I.A BELLE SAUVAGE YARD, E.C. INDEX TO ILLUSTRATIONS. FiiONTispiECE :— Halt of Cavaliers, by Wouvermans. View of the Ijsterior of the Art Treasures Exhibition, Manchester AssELYN, John : — Portrait ... Vignette The Trooper Horses Watering The Ford Bega, Cornelius : — Alehouse Hop Young Gallant Old Invalid Bekghe:m, Nicholas : — Portrait ... Shepherd and Goat Travellers Conversing Eural Employment Port of Genoa Bourdon, SEBAstiAN : — Portrait ... Halt of the Holy Family Healing the Sick The Artist's Studio Security Virgin and Child 344 344 345 348 349 313 316 317 360 360 361 364 365 432 420 421 424 425 428 CuYP, Albert: — Cattle Watering The Encampment Starting for a Ride Meadows ou the Banks of the Meuse View of Dordrecht ■ View of the Meuse David, J. Louis: — Belisarius Oath of the Horatii The Sabine AVives Death of Socrates Portrait of Pius VII Napoleon crossing the Alps ... Desportes, A. Francis: — Portrait Vignette Wolf-hunt Hounds Pointers Dietrich, Christian:— Portrait Itinerant Musicians The Flight into Egypt The Grinder and Cobbler The Repose of the Holy Family The Wooden Bridge D urer, Albert PAGE 280 281 284 285 288 289 465 468 469 472 473 476 449 449 452 453 456 497 500 501 504 505 508 Flight into Egypt ... 429 Portrait 496 Vignette ... 432 The Betrothal of the Virgin ... 484 Brauwer, Adrain : — The Lord and his Lady 485 Portrait ... 272 The Virgin and Child 488 Weary Traveller ... 272 The Great Horse 489 The Fiddler ... 273 Melancholy 492 Tipplers ... 276 Armorial Shield of the Death's Tavern Brawl ... 277 .Head 493 Breughel de Velours: — Portrait Watermill Wayside Shrine The Wagon View near Bruges ... Burnet, James: — The Orphan Bird Claude Lorrain: — Portrait Tobit and the Angel ... Cattle Watering The Herdsman Landing of Cleopatra ... Dance by the Waterside Watering-place for Cattle Vignette The Ancient Forum Constable, John: — Portrait The Loch... Cornfield Farm of the Valley Osmiiigton, near Weymouth 352 352 353 356 357 Elmore, Alfred:— Origin of the Stocking-loom The Novice Ferg, Francis De Paula : — The Village Fair Gainsborough, Tho^ias :- 133 136 509 141 Portrait ... 65 Blue Boy ... 68 393 Boys and Fighting Dogs ... 69 381 Landscape, with Children ... 72 384 Cottage Door ... 73 385 388 The Brook ... 76 Donkey Race ... 77 389 Hogarth, Williasi:— 393 Portrait ... ... 128 393 Enraged Musician ... ... 108 396 The Canvass ... 109 Marriage a la Mode, No. 1 ... 112 80 Ditto No. 2 ... 113 81 The Bowl of Punch ... 116 84 The Cock Pit ... 117 85 Sigismunda ... 120 88 The Alchemist ... ... 121 PAGE Hogarth, William: — Cruelty to Animals 124 Garrick as Richard III. ... 125 Finis! ... ... ... ... 128 JoRDAENS, Jacob : — Portrait 297 Family Concert 292 Martyrdom of St. Apollina ... 293 Le Roi Boit 296 Satyrs and Cottagers 297 JouvENET, John: — Portrait 401 Descent from the Cross ... 397 Extreme Unction 400 Vignette 401 Miraculous Draught of Fishes 404 Lance, George: — Fruit 129 The Redcap 132 Landseer, Sir Edwin:— The Twa Dogs 28 Dignity and Impudence ... 29 Laying down the Law 32 Gentle Shepherd 33 High Life 36 Low Life 37 Stag in the Torrent 40 Widowed Duck 41 Lantara : — Portrait 481 Returning from Market ... 477 Banks of the Seine 480 Lawrence, Sir Thojlas: — Portrait 16S Countess Gower and Child ... 169 Children of C. B. Calmady, Esq. 172 George IV 173 Master Lambton 176 Duchess of Sutherland and Daughter 177 John Kemble as Hamlet ... 180 Leslie, C. R. : — Sancho Panza 137 The Rivals 140 MiLLAis, J. E. :— The Proscribed Royalist ... 44 Order of Release 45 Autumn Leaves 48 OsTADE, Adrian Van:— Portrait 241 Boors Smoking 241 Painter's Study ... 214 Rustic Interior 2J5 Rustic Dance 2 18 Dutch Cabaret 219 Humpbacked Fiddler 252 Itinerant Musicians 253 Game of Galet .... 256 OuDRY, J. Baptiste:— Portrait 433 Dog and Whelps 433 vi INDEX. OUDUY, J. BapTISTIC: — PAGE Koebuck at Bay 43G Wolf in a Fix 437 Startled Fox 440 Stag Hunt 441 Elephant and Rat 444 The Heron 445 Monkey and Cat 448 Potter, Paul:— Portrait 257 Cows 259 Cow and her Shadow 260 Pasture Ground 261 Horses at Bait 264 The Meadow 265 The Bull 268 Landscape with Cows 269 Rembrandt, Paul: — Portrait 240 Ephraim Bonus 220 Descent from the Cross 221 Jesus Clearing the Temple 224 Night Watch 225 Resurrection of Lazarus 228 Portrait of an Old Man 229 Prodigal's Return 232 The Three Trees 233 Dr. Faustus 236 Burgomaster Six 237 Reynolds, Sir Joshua :— Portrait 49 The Schoolboy 52 Count Ugolino 53 Portrait of John Hunter 56 The Nativity 57 Beggar Boy 60 Snake in the Grass 61 Holy Family 64 Rubens, P. Paul:— Portrait 184 Silenus 184 Henry IV. and his Queen 185 Flight into Egypt 188 Descent from the Cross 189 March of Silenus 192 Meeting of Mary and Elizab.'th 193 Venus and the Loves 196 Sons of Rubens 197 The Rainbow 200 Chateau de Steen 201 Susannah and the Elders 204 La Conclusion de la Paix 205 The Kermesse 208 RuYSDAEL, Jacob :— Portrait 312 Forest Scene 300 Waterfall 301 Outskirts of the Forest 304 Rustic Bridge 305 Cornfield 305 The Beach 308 The Lake 309 Cow in Pond 312 Sneyders, Francois: — Portrait 209 Dealer in Game 212 Boar Hunt 213 Dogs and Bears 216 Dogs in a Larder 217 Stees, Jan : — page Portrait 328 Dancing Dogs 320 Parrot 321 Grace before Meat 324 Game of Ninepins 325 Group ... 328 Stella, James: — Portrait 457 Virgin and ChUd 458 Village Dance 460 St. Peter denies Christ 461 Coming Home from Work ... 464 Stone, Frank: — Reconciliation ; or, a Sister's Advice 181 Teniers, David: — Portrait 368 Knife Grinder 368 Flemish Kermesse 369 Temptation of St. Anthony ... 372 The Jealous Wife 373 The Spendthrift 376 Bacchanalian Philosophers ... 377 Diabolical Reading 380 Turner, J. M. W. :— Portrait 89 Cascade of Terni 92 Argus and Adonis 93 Kirkstall Abbey 96 Mouth of the Humber 97 Fishing-boat in a Storm ... 100 Valentin, Moses: — Portrait 417 The Concert 405 The Guardsmen Quarrelling ... 408 Musical Party 409 Justification of Susannah ... 412 Judgment of Solomon 413 St. Matthew 416 The Tribute Money 417 Van der Neer : — Head Piece 329 Boats by Moonlight 329 Moonlight Scene 332 The Skaters 333 Morning 336 Evening 337 Moonlight and River 337 River Scene 340 Rising Moon 341 Vandycic, Anthony: — Portrait 145 Madonna and Child 148 The Crown of Thorns 149 Queen Henrietta Maria and Family 152 The Mystic Marriage 153 Van Der Borcht 156 Charles 1. 157 Children of Charles 1 160 Dr. Gevartius 161 Portrait of F. Sneyders ... 164 Portrait of F. Langlois ... 165 Wespall, Richard: — I Peasant Boy 144 PAGE 4 5 8 9 ... 12 ... 13 ... 16 ... 17 ... 20 ... 21 ... 24 ... 25 Wilson, Richard :— Portrait 105 Morning 101 Evening 104 Art Treasures Exhibition at Manchester: its History 2 Description of the Building ... 6 Memoirs and Description of Works : — Asselyn, John .. 342 Bega, Cornelius ... 311 Berghem, Nicholas ... 359 Bourdon, Sebastian ... 419 Bramver, Adrian ... 271 Breughel, John ... 350 Burnet, James ... ... 146 Claude Lorrain ... 384 Constable, John ... 97 Cuyp, Albert ... 279 David, J. Louis ... ... 467 Desportes, A. Francis ... ... 447 Dietrich, Christian ... 504 Durer, Albert ... 487 Elmore, Alfred ... 138 Ferg, Francis de Paula... ... 510 Gainsborough, Thomas... ... 67 Hogarth, William ... 110 Jordaens, Jacob ... 291 Jouvenet, John ... 398 Lance, George ... 135 Landseer, Sir Edwin ... ... 28 Lantara, Simon Mathurin ... 482 Lawrence, Sir Thomas... ... 166 Leslie, C. R ... 112 Millais, J. E ... 42 Ostade, Adrian Van ... 243 Oudry, J. Baptiste ... 433 Potter, Paul ... 259 Rembrandt, Paul ... 219 Rej'nolds, Sir Joshua ... ... 51 Rubens, Peter Paul ... 186 Ruysdael, Jacob ... 299 Sneyders, Fran9ois ... 211 Steen, Jan ... 318 Stella, James ... 457 Stone, Frank ... 183 Teniers, David ... 367 Turner, J. M. W. ... 91 Valentin, Moses ... 407 Vandyck, Anthony ... 150 Van der Neer ... 327 Westall, Richard ... 147 Wilkie, Sir David 7 Wilson, Richard ... 99 Wilkie, Sir David: — The Village Festival ... Blind INlan's Buff Jew's Harp The Pedlar Letter of Introduction ... Duncan Gray Village Politicians Rent Day Rabbit on the Wall The Cut Finger Sir W. Scott and Family Blind Fiddler 1 PREFACE. [7 HE conclusion of the Volume of John Cassell's Art Treasures \ Exhibition suggests the propriety of addressing a few words to our subscribers relative to the origin, object, and merits of the work. The Art Treasures Palace at Manchester, of the year 1857, which now exists only in the memory of those who enjoyed the privilege of inspecting the unrivalled collection of private paintings assembled within its walls, was, from the very nature of the undertaking, of an ephemeral character. The masterpieces of the great chiefs of the various schools, which, for the purposes of Art Education, had been contributed to the Manchester Exhibition by their noble and patriotic owners, will, in all human probability, never again be united under the same roof. The risk of injury was too great, the expense of conveyance, and the anxiety which even the temporary removal of artistic treasures, which for centuries have been heir-looms in great fami- lies, occasioned their possessors, to whom nothing could compensate for their loss, were too serious to be again lightly incurred. Fearing, therefore, that the taste for art which this Exhibi- tion had widely engendered in the public mind might— like a tender child, which requires the care of a fond nursing mother— perish for want of encouragement, John Cassell determined to keep alive, if possible, not only the memory of the Manchester Art Treasures Exhibition, but also that craving for Art Education which it had fostered, by the reproduction in wood, in the highest style of art, of the most famous chefs-d'cenvre exhibited at Manchester, and also of the best paintings of the chief masters of the various schools, wherever they are preserved, either in private collections or public galleries. The Art Treasures Exhibition, which he now publishes in a complete volume, is a book sui generis^ for there is no other work of art conducted upon the same plan and offering the same information and advantages to the art student, the connoisseur, or the public, in either our own or any other language. It contains not only a collection of Wood-engravings of extraordinary merit from the chefs-cVocnvre of the masters of the English, Dutch, Flemish, French, and German viii PREFACE. schools, but a Biographical Sketch, compiled from the best authority, of every painter to whom allusion is made in the course of the work, together with a critical and historical notice of every picture reproduced in the engravings. The Memoirs, which are written in a clear and popular style, form a complete and most valuable synopsis of the history of painting, from the time of the " Renaissance," or, in other words, of Michael Angelo and Eaphael, in those several schools. The Engravings which accom- pany them illustrate the truth and discrimination of the author's historical and critical observa- tions. The Biographical Sketches, in most instances, conclude with a summary of the merits and shortcomings of the several masters ; and where an opportunity occurs, comparisons are instituted between the style and manner of the great painters, whether they happen to be of the same or of different schools. The work is purposely written in language intelligible to all readers, professional or otherwise. No technicalities are used which require the assistance of a glossary ; no descriptions or criticisms introduced which pre-suppose any knowledge of painting, either practical or theoretical. A careful perusal of the whole work will, however, amply repay the labour of the art student, for he will gain information from these pages which he cannot procure elsewhere ; and the unpro- fessional reader, for whom the work is more especially designed, will, by the study of John Cassell's Art Treasures Exhibition, have his mind enlarged, his intellect improved, his stock of general knowledge widely increased, and a taste for art awakened if it was dormant in him, and created if it was non-existent. The volume in its complete form contains upwards of two hundred and sixty engravings, together with forty-five biographical sketches of celebrated masters. THE ATIT TRExlSURES EXHIBITION AT MANCHESTER. HE Art Treasures Exliibition at Manchester, of which we give an elaborate ^^'p^^'ff^^^^ representation on our frontis})iece, owes its origin, in the first instance, to an \L^^ff,<^AA Mf^Qr^^. . j^.^ wjiich occurred to Mr. C. J. Deane, while he was \isiting the Hotel dc Clunie. This gentleman, formerly a Commissioner of the Dublin Ex- hibition, and now connected with the Crystal Palace at Sydenham, first conceived f the idea of collecting within the walls of a gallery at Manchester those chefs- l (Voeuvre of arfc, with which ho was aware that England was, more than any other ^ country of the world, abundantly supplied. The p.ncestral palaces of our nobility contain, as he well knew, the finest and the most numerous productions of the great masters of the three celebrated schools of painting ; and he did not ^' reckon without his host," when - he depended for the success of his project upon a patriotic wish in the English aristocracy to promote among the people a love of science, and a knowledge of those great masterpieces of human genius, through the contemplation of which the popular taste might be elevated and refined. He communi- cated his plans to some of the principal manufacturers of the city, and received so much encouragement from the leading men of Manchester, that, at the close of March, 1856, he issued his celebrated circular. This document produced an immediate and most gratifying efiect. The project Avas of so popular a nature, and the citizens of Manchester were so pleased mth the prospect of seeing their own manu- facturing town raised for a time into an emporium of the ch^s-d'' ceuvre ot the fine arts, that wdthin six weeks of the publication of his plan, Mr. Deane had the satisfaction of hearing that his project was adopted, and a scheme devised for reising the flmds necessary for carrying it into execution. The men ol IManch ester have been frequently taunted with their excessive love of gain ; but the readiness with which they listened to the suggestions of Mr. Deane, and the amount of the sums which they have subscribed for the purpose of securing the success of his undertaking, proves that-, with a legitimate object in view, they are quite as ready to giva as to receive. There were, however, many, even in Manchester, who still doubted the possibility of raising the guarantee fund ; and others — a more numerous and discouraging class — who affirmed that the possessors of the richest works of art would not be so improvident as to send them into the neighbourhood of the tail chimneys of Manchester ; a third class — who ought to have known that wealth and intelligence, whether they arise in commercial cities or elsewhere, generally develop themselves in a love of the fine arts — asked, " What does Manchester want with pictures V However, the first difficulty that had been started proved to be no obstacle at ail ; for, although no regular canvass v/as made, thirty-two gentlemen put down their names for £1,000 each, and sixty for £500 each, making a total df £02,000. Some, Avho were not ap})lied to, subsequently offered to become guarantee sid3scribers, and the fund now exceeds .£70,000. The Mayor made an application, through Colonel Phii)ps, foi' an interview with Prince Albert ui)on the subject. Tliis was accorded, and, on the 7th of May, the Mayor, with Mr. Thomas Fairbairn (chairman of the Executive Committee), and other gentlemen, had an interview with the Prince at Buckingham Palace, and submitted the viev.^s of the promoters; stating that a fund of upwards of £00,000 had been promptly subscribed, and that, if the same degree of patronage and support which had been granted by Her Gracious Majesty the Queen and His Poyal Highness to the Dublin Exhibition, v/ere also accorded to the proposed Manchester scheme, there could be no doubt of ultimate success. The Prince expressed his approval of the project ; made some valuable suggestions respecting the im- portance of a judicious classification of the works of the ancient and modern masters, and intimated that the subject .^nould be brouglit before the Queen. A few days afterwards. Her Majesty signified her Avillingness to grant her patronage. A meeting of the subscribers was then held (May 20th), when the progress made was duly re})orted. The i)articulars respecting the interview with Prince Albert were detailed ; and the deputation stated that they had also waited upon the Earl of Ellesmere and the Earl of Derb}^, and that these noblemen had given the most cordial assurances of co-operation. THE ART TREASURES EXHIBITION AT MANCilKSTER. 3 Ul)on the of tlie encouraging assurances received, Mr. Thomas Bazley (President of the Man- chester Ciiainber of Commerce, and one of the active commissioners for the Exhibition of 1851) proposed a resolution, affirming that an Exhibition of Art Treasures should be held in Manchester, in 1857. This was unanimously adopted, and several speeches, on the importance of art education, were delivered. The Executive Committee were appointed, and invested v/ith the requisite powers for prosecuting the project. In due course, sites were offered for the building, and tenders made for its erection. On the 23rd of June, the General Council, composed of guarantee subscribers, assembled at the offices v/hicli had been taken, and fitted up, in Mosley-street. The Committee recommended the site at Old TralFord, v^hich is about two miles from the Manchester Royal Exchange, and on the western side of the city, as the most approi)riate, the locality being open, and having contiguous to it the spacious gardens of the Manchester Botanical Society. The plans sent in by contractors were numerous, but the designs of Messrs. C. D. Young and Co., of London and Leith, with some modifications efiected by Mr. E. Salomons (architect to the Committee) in concert with Mr. Young, were those suggested as most appro- priate. The site, about tliirty acres, on land belonging to Sii' Humphrey de Trafford (a family settled here since the Norman Conquest), and the designs of Messrs. Young and Co. for the sum of .£24,500, were unanimously approved by the council. The preparation of the ground was commenced, and, on the 13th of August, the ceremony of raising the first pillar took place; the Executive Committee, the General Council, and a number of ladies, being present to witness the formal origination of a vast temple devoted to the fine arts — an edifice which, if it could not rival the Vatican in its stateiiness and solidity, or the Louvre in its gorgeous interior, would, in one respect, be more wonderful than either. The Vatican is the depository of the accumulated treasures of ages ; the Louvre displays the trophies of warfare, and the purchases of an Imperial exchequer ; but this v^^ould furnish proof to the world of the unselfishness of Englishmen, when appealed to for the proud purpose of developing a great and ennobling design. After this the work progressed rapidly, under the directions of the con- tractors, and the supervision of Mr. Dredge, their resident engineer. The reader must now suppose the gradual arrival upon the ground, from the contiguous railway, of millions of bricks, for the foundations of columns, of sleeper- walls, &c., hundreds of thousands of planks, and large stacks of columns, roof principals, and girders, while v/e direct attention to the means adopted for procuring the art treasures which were to find a fitting abode within them. The valuable experience of Mr. J. C. Deane pointed him out as the most suitable gentleman for the responsible post of General Commissioner, and he v/as appointed to this office. On the 4th of September a list of pictures was received from Colonel Phipps, accompanied by the follovdng letter : — " These pictures her Majesty the Queen will have much pleasure in lending for the purposes of the exhibition." These included twenty-two from Buckingham Palace, and seA^enteen from Windsor Castle. They are the gems of the collection — ^including works by Titian, Bubens, Bembrandt, Van Ostade, Van de Velde^ Wouvermans, Vandyk, Claude Lorraine, Holbein, Guido, Hominichino, Sir Joshua Beynolds, Sir David Wilkie, &c. In the course of this work, we shall endeavour to administer to the instruction and delight of our readers by presenting them with finely executed wood engravings of the most choice productions of the above and other celebrated masters. A deputation waited also upon his Excellency the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland (tlie Earl of Car- lisle), in Dublin, and received from him assurances of the most cordial co-operation. Many rich trea- sures have been received from the Irish societies, as well as from private noblemen and gentlemen. His Excellency has sent the gems of his collection from Castle Howard, including that celebrated picture by Annibale Camcci, the " Tlie Three Marys." In this introductory article we have no space for an eimmeration of the contributors, but the following will show that the appeal made by the men of Manchester to the noblemen and gentlemen of the land, met with a response which dissipated at once all the doubts and feai-s of the sceptical : — The Duke of Newcastle, the Duke of Hamilton, the Duke of Manchester, Earl de Grey, Earl of Ellesmere, Earl of Derby, Lord Overstone (now elected President of the Council, in place of the late highly esteemed Earl of Ellesmere), Lord Eglinton, Lord Palmerston, the Bishops of Manchester and Bipon, Lord Ashburton, Lord Wharncliffe, Lord Ward, Lord Littleton, Sir Humphrey de Trafford, the Duke of Bichmond, the Duke of Marlborough, and a host of gentry, having rare and valuable collections, will all furnish stores from which it will be our happiness to draw. We shall thus be able to produce in our "Art Treasures Exhibition" copies of 4 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. works engraved in the first style of art, and neatly printed upon good paper, which may adorn the dwelling of the humblest among us ; and, indeed, to no small extent, place within his reach the means of himself becoming the owner of the art treasures, not of our national collections alone, but of the principal galleries of the world, since we shall furnish him with representations of some of Hi the best specimens of what is contained in the palaces of royalty, the mansions of the nobility, and the collections of all the crowned heads of Europe. We acknowledge that many of the Engravings have appeared in a more expensive work, but, as our plan developes itself, it will be seen that a more complete and comprehensive Gallery of Art Treasures — 6 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. more especially in tlic copies of the chefs-cVceuvre of the great painters — has never before been offered to the public. We mv.st now say a little more respecting the noble fabric, whose exterior and interior aj^pear in this number. It was so far completed, on the 18th of February, that an interesting promenade took place within its spacious walls. There were 6,000 ladies and gentlemen present, and amongst them the Duke of Newcastle, Lord Lincoln, the Lord Bishop of Manchester, and many influential citizens. A military band performed a selection of music, and the acoustic qualities of the building \vere found to be highly satisfactory. Since then it has been appropriately adorned, and now contains its rich trea- sures ] the general arrangements of which we will analyse, whilst giving an outline of the cliief com- })artments of the building itself. The palace is 700 feet in length, by 200 feet, and covers a space of 15,200 square yards, or a little more than three acres. It looks towards the east, in the direction of the principal road from the city ; on the west there are fields, on the south, a space of ground, bounded by a covered rail- way platform, 800 feet in length. On the north side are the Botanical Gardens, to which there will be a small charge made by the proprietors for admission. The exterior is of corrugated iron sheets, which fit at the sides in grooves of wrought iron standards. There is then an interior lining of wood, covered with canvas, and papered. In the design of the facade, respect was had to the form of the roofs. The portion over the centre of the hall is a lofty semicircle, and the arch which terminates it presents, to a person standing near, an imposing appearance. The side-aisles of the hall have lower ridge-roofs, and the part of the front corresponding to these is horizontal ; v/hile the semicircular arches beyond, to the right and left, resemble the contour of the roofs over the picture galleries. In addition to the breadth of 200 feet, occupied by the actual front of tlie building, the fagade extends 150 feet to the left, in connection ^ih. the corridor from the railway; and 100 foet to the right, behind which are several ofiices. A neat effect is produced by intermingling white brick with red, so as to form panels. THE INTEEIOR N passing the main entrance, the visitor has before him an uninterrupted view of the grand hall, consisting of centre and side aisles. It is 700 feet in length, and 104 feet broad, the nave being 56 feet, and each aisle 24 feet. The semicircular roof over the nave rests upon two rows of columns, standing in pairs athwart the building. They have attached to their capitals ornamental brackets (supporting the girders), containing the monogram " A. T. E.," gilded. The principals, bearing upon the colimms and girders alternately, span the roof in a vast semicircle. The crown of the arch is glazed for a breadth of 30 feet, and the altitude from the floor is 65 feet. The breadth of the aisles is 24 feet. The hall is crossed by a transept, of the same height and breadth, at 500 feet from the entrance. Its two ends have ornamental windows, of a radial character, similar to those in the lower portion of the front arches. To the west of the transept there is, on the north side, an oriental court j on the south, a gallery for engravings, and, beyond both, one for water-colour drawings. A commodious raised gallery occupies the breadth of the aisles for 72 feet east and west of the transept, around which it is also continued. The Pictiu'e Galleries flank the aisles of the grand hall, Avitli which they communicate at several ])oints, by arched entrances. They are respectively 48 feet broad and 51 J feet high, and glazed along the centre of the roof for a breadth of 24 feet. Each gallery is divided into three compartments (Ijy open arches), having a length of 120 feet. This facilitates the classification of the various schools of art. The series of galleries on the south side are devoted to the ancient masters ; the Italian works being attached to the extreme wall of the building ; and the German, Flemish, English, &c., to the inner one. The works of the modern masters are arranged in the galleries on the north side of the building, also in chronological order. The portraits (about 500) of English celebrities cover the walls of the great hall ; the names of the artists being displayed above them, in blue tablets, formed in an ornamental cornice. The Museum of Art is ari-anged in glass cases, placed a little beyond the lines of columns, and forms a magnificent and priceless collection, of the most varied character. The sculpture occupies a corre- SIR DAVID WILKIE. 7 spending position wifcliiii the range of columns, trenching a little upon the nave, but leaving ample space for the free passage of a large concourse of people. Near the western end, the collection of armoury is displayed upon figures mounted on a stud of well-carved horses. A powerful organ is erected at the western extremity, and in front of it an orchestra capable of accommodating 100 performers and 500 vocalists. This ""suggests the magnificence of the opening ceremonial, an account of wliich will appear in our next number. Judging from the musical talent engaged, the extent of the preparations, and the quality of the company wliich may be expected, wo have no doubt the inauguration will prove worthy of this great and important national object. SIR DAYID WILKIE. S the object of Cassell's Art Treasures Exhibition is to bring within the reach of all classes of society a knowledge of the history and chefs-cV(x,uvTG of the great masters whose works are now exliibited at Manchester, we shall not restrict our notices to those paintings which the projectors of the Exhibition have, vvith so much industry and enterprise, collected within the walls of the building. Valuable and excellent as these undoubtedly are, they give but an inadequate notion of the genius and prolific execution of some of the greatest masters of their art, whose highly-prized productions are scattered so far and Avide, that we cannot expect to see assembled within the compass of one gallery more than some few samples of their excellence. We shall commence our illustrations with an analysis of the clmfs-d'' ceuvre of Sii^ David Wilkie, a painter of the modern school, and of home production, than whom no artist of the present century has achieved a greater and, we think, more enduring reputation, or acquired a better merited popularity. He was born on the 18th of November, 1785, in the village of Cutts, in Fifeshire, and was the third son of David Wilkie, minister of the parish, and Isabella Lister, his third wife. From early childhood the future painter evinced the greatest possible dislike to book-learning ; and his father dis- covered, after many unavailing attempts to inculcate the rudiments of classical knowledge, that his son had no taste for anything but drawing. In those days the barbarous sentiment of the rough and unlettered George II., " j^ainters is no goot, nor jgoets neder," was shared in by many; and the minister saw, in consequence, but little chance of his son earning his bread by painting. But his mother, who had a clearer perception of her son's genius, and a more hopeful and prophetic reliance u])on its future appreciation by the world, counteracted the efforts of her husband to crush the youthful Wilkie's talent. Through her persevering endeavours, he was, in the year 1799, sent to Edinburgh, %vith some specimen drawings, and a letter of introduction from the Earl of Leven to Mr. Thompson, the secretary of the "Trustee Academy for the Encouragement of Manufactures." Although the drawings were not considered indicative of any decided genius, he was admitted, through the interest of his noble patron; and, with the advantages of. good instruction and regular discipline, made a progress which seemed almost miraculous. Although certainly inferior to many in the same class in knovdedge of his art, he was superior to all in delineation of character. He worshipped Nature; and to make himself acquainted with her, under all her different phases, he was a constant frequenter of trysts, fairs, and market-places. His industry was indefatigable ; and he exposed himself to the ridicule of his fellow-students, by his deter- mination to improve, as far as possible, the opportunity of instruction he enjoyed. He was always the first to enter the Academy, and the last to leave it ; and even when the hours of study were over, he only retired to his lodgings, to labour more assiduously than ever, as long as daylight lasted, at what he had commenced in the morning. He knew that, although the gift of painting, liico tha t nf g JOHN CASSELL'S AET TBEASURES EXHIBITION. poetry, must be born with a man, it can never be made available without intense labour and appli- ^'^^'in 1803 he achieved his first important success, and won the prize of ten guineas for the best })ainting of " Callisto in the Bath of Diana." It was about this time that he made his sketch of " The Village Politicians." ^ In 1804 he loft the Academy, and returned home, where he pamted a tahUau de genre, entitled, "Pitlessie Fair," in wliich he inserted the portraits of one hundred and forty rustics of the neighbour- THE Jew's harp, from a painting by sir pavid wilkib. hood. He shortly afterwards set out for London, carrying with him a picture called " The Village Kecruit," which he sold, at Charing-cross, for six pounds. His progress in the great metropolis, where he immediately obtained admission as a student of the Royal Academy, was very rapid; and the picture which, at the suggestion of his patron, the Earl of Mansfield, he executed from his early sketch of " The Village Politicians," brought him both fame and money. Commissions for pictures came pouring in upon him so fast, that he was compelled to aban- don the project he had entertained of returning to Scotland. " The Blind Fiddler," which he painted for Sir George Beaumont; "The Card Players," painted for the Duke of Gloucester; "The Kent Day," for the Earl of Mulgrave ; "The Sick Lady," "The Jew's Harp," &c., &c., established his reputation; 9 TUB PEDLAP. riiOM A TAIKTiNG BY SIR DAVID WILKIE. and "The Village Festival," which was painted for Mr. Angerstein, brought him the large sum of eight hundred guineas. ''BLINDMAN'S BUFF." In 1813 he painted for the Prince Regent his celebrated picture of " Blindman's Buff," which is now exhibiting at Manchester, and of which we give the accompanying beautiful engraving. The 2 10 JOHN CASSELL'S AllT TREASURES EXHIBITION. opinions of the connoisseurs about tJiis admirable rei)resentation of domestic life were by no means unanimous. Success had excited envy, and less fortunate artists criticised severely the execution of a masterpiece wliich had established the reputation of the Scotch j)ainter. " You have made a i)erilous step into the vulgar, my dear friend," said Fuseli : " either your fortune is assured or you are in.iined." Some declared that Wilkie had created a nevv^ school — the school of beggary; and numerous were the ill-natured comments and epigrams which the public approval of " Blindmau's Buif " elicited from rival exhibitors. The jncture was, however, of so popular a kind, the grouping of the various figures was so life-like in its variety, the attitude of the rustics engaged in the sport so true to nature, and the whole interior such a triumph of the pictorial ai*t, that Wilkie could afford to smile at the strictures of envious competitors. ^'THE VILLAGE FESTIVAL.'* " The Village Festival,'* a picture so elaborate in its execution, and so characteristic of our artist's style in the grouping of its humorous figures, was jminted for Mr. Angerstein, in the year 1812, and purchased by that gentleman for the munificent sum of .£81:0. In the details of this celebrated chef- cCceuvre of the great domestic painter, we trace the peculiar workings of his mind, and pei'ceive, at a glance, how deeply he had studied the habits, expressions, and idiosyncrasies of the rustic population whom he chose for his models. It was at this time that "Wilkie became a member of the Royal Academy, of v/hich he had been admitted an associate in 1809, and that he opened, at Kensington, an exhibition of his pictures, which proved in the end, although it added to his fame at the time, a great failure as a financial speculation. ^'THE JEW'S HARP." " The Jew's Harp" was an earlier production; but, although the subject is less ambitious, and the details less elaborate than those of " The Village Festival," in finish and execution it is quite equal to any of Wilkie's later productions. The expression of wonder and interest in the faces of the two children, who are listening in rapt attention to the simple performance of the untaught musician, — the faithful minuteness with which the entourage of the mechanic in his interior is represented, and the accuracy Avith which every object in domestic use is disposed in its proper place, all evince the great powers of observation which the Scotch painter brought to bear upon his 2:)roductions. " The Jew's Harp " is the property of the Marquis of Lansdowne, and is, we believe, the only picture by this great domestic painter in the Lansdowne collection. Sir David Wilkie gained nothing by his study of the Italian and Spanish masters. His genius, like that of Hogarth, was for the delineation of national character, and is so truly original and perfect in itself, that, in all attem}TAs at imitation, he destroyed the identity of his style. " The Entry of George IV. into Edinburgh," which he commenced before he left England on his professional tour, and finished after his return, is a proof of how much he lost in originality by his study of the old mastei's. The first part has all the minuteness of finish and elaboration of character and detail which constitute his peculiar excellence, and which have made him superior to all his rivals in the same style. The second part is a mere imitation in design and colouring of Titian and Corregio, and, therefore, inferior as a work of art to the original productions of his genius. "THE PEDLAR." In the reign of itinerant hawkers of goods, long before the introduction of railways and steam- boats had almost annihilated time and space in travelling, and had so connected the most obsciu'o and remote villages of the empire with the metropolis, that the wonders of our great em})orium of everything useful and ornamental are no longer things of which people may have read and dreamed, but could never hope to see — what an important person was the pedlar. His periodical visit was an event which by wives and si)insters in the country was looked upon as a kind of era in their lives. Upon the contents of his pack depended, in a great measure, the influence which the " fair " sex would be able to exert over their " unfair " husbands, lovers, or suitors ; for all men, however they SIR DAVID WILKIE. . ^ U may repudiate the " impeacliment," are, more or less, under petticoat government, especially when the advantages of the toilette have made " The miglity magnet set In woman's form more miglity yet." With what eagerness was the unpacking of the pedlar's bales of goods watched by those wlio, in every kerchief, ribbon, scarf, Jichu, band, or bracelet, saw an additional means of conquest. In the times, too, when the ways of communication between distant towns and villages were so difficult and dangerous, the pedlar was often the only medium of epistolary correspondence. Loving wives, whose industrious husbands were occupied at a distance in trade or commerce, and sentimental young ladies, who were separated from their lovers, saw in the pedlar a Mercury upon whose fidelity and discretion they could securely rely. The pedlar, therefore, of the last century, such as he is represented in this characteristic picture by Wilkie, was an individual not to be slighted. It is true that he was often regarded with a less favourable eye by the goodman himself than by his wife and daughters. The attractive and showy articles which he unfolded to the admiring gaze of the women, often cost the de famille much, both in purse and temper. In the engraving from the celebrated picture of " The Pedlar," the expres- sion on the faces pf the difterent actors in the scene is beautifully varied. The pedlar, who has just disclosed his many dazzling treasures, has all the women in his interest. A flowered chintz has arrested every female eye. The aunt, who has been spinning in the background, has put aside her work to gaze in wonder and admiration upon the glories of the fabric. Her uplifted hands show how deeply its powers of fascination have wrought upon her fa,ncy. In the face of the pater familias is written, in legible characters, the history of his thoughts. He continues to smoke his pipe vath unruffled dignity, notwithstanding the excitement of those around him, and while, with a disap- ]:)roving look, he shows how much he dislikes the purchase, the position of his hand in his pocket, jingling his coin, is nevertheless indicative of his intention to gratify the vanity of the " womankind." The expression of the pedlar is the ne plus ultra of plausible hypocrisy; while apparently disclaiming any anxiety to part with the treasure, he is stimulating the eagerness and curiosity of his patronesses, by descanting on its variety and beauty. The pedlar of Wilkie's picture is almost an extinct animal. Even in the colonies, the rapid growth of gigantic railways has rendered his visits unnecessary ; and although in the back settlements of America a degenerate scipn of the old stock may occasionally be seen, his business is more that of an itinerant vendor of cheap literature than of articles of female apparel, taste, or bijouterie. In many continental towns, the pedlar, or colporteur^ has entirely changed his vocation, and is now em- ployed by religious societies as an agent in disseminating their peculiar views of religion. The time, par excellence^ of Wilkie's pedlar was that of which the uncouth poet wrote, when he said : Had you but seen these roads before they were made, You'd have lifted your hands, and blessed General Wade." ''THE LETTER OF INTRODUCTION." In The Letter of Introduction," the picture tells its own tale ; and, indeed, is there any produc- tion of the master-mind of this great domestic artist which is not in itself a life's history? The humility in the expression of the face of the anxious aspirant to the favour of the great — the meekness with which he bears the " rich man's contumely " — the evident distrust, or rather suspicion, with which the old gentleman eyes the guest, whose presence, notwithstanding the unopened letter of introduction Avliich he continues to tmst in his hand, is anything but pleasant to him — are all graphically repre- sented. The very dog takes his cue from his master, and shows, by his attitude, that he shares the old man's suspicions. The treatment which the bearer of the letter receives Avill, at any rate, be a trial of his patience ; and the tout ensemble of the picture is suggestive of what all will have to pay, in the shape of mortified vanity and self-humiliation, wlio dance attendance upon the favour of the great. The dis- position of the objects in the interior does credit to the observation of the artist. Nothing has escaped liis watchful eye. Even to the vase of 2^ot ^^ourri, everything is in keeping ; everything is introduced into the tableau that could promote or adorn the otium cum digniiate of the luxurious master, 12 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITIOX. **TflE ERRAND-BOY." " The Errand-Boy" is more a picture of quiet evcry-day life, among that chiss from which Wilkie delighted to draw his subjects, than a tahlecm sug- gestive of any stirring or romantic incidents. There is a simple home look about the Avhole scene wliich recalls many a dreamy day passed in the secluded enjoyment of some quiet country residence. The loose, slouching at- titude of the boy, who seems too lazy to sit upright on his horse, and who fumbles in liis l)ocket for his letter, TUB LKTTrn cr ij:Tnoi lttiox. with an expression which shows that he has either lost or mis- laid it — the curiosity in the face of the old crone, and the insou- ciance of the younger woman (who is entirely occupied with the child) as to message or mes- senger — are all life-like in their reality. ''DUNCAN GRAY." If Wilkie had not been a painter, he must have been a poet or a novelist. What an in- exhaustible fund of ma- teriel he possessed in his fertile imagination! What a keen apprecia- tion of tlie humorous, l^mlliillili THE ERRANP-BOr. FllOM A PAINTlKa BY SIR DAi'lB WILKIE, SIR DAVID WILKIE. 13 I DUNCAN GRAY. FROM A PAIITTING BY SIR DAVID WILKIE. the picturesque, and the pathetic has he not displayed in his " Duncan Gray " ! The i)ictare is an illustration of the simple and beautiful poem of Burns, but far more suggestive in its details than the tale upon which it is founded. We quote the poem at length, in order that our readers may perceive how skilfully the painter has developed the meaning of the poet, and, by the addition of numerous little touches, added to the effect of the different parts, while he preserved unimpaired the integrity of the whole : — 14 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. Duncan Gray came here to woo, Hca, ha, the wooing o't, On blythe Yule night when we were fou, Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Maggie coost her head fu' heigh, Look'd asklent and unco skeigh, Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh — Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd, Ha, ha, the wooing o't ; Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig, Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Duncan sigh'd baith out and in, Qrat his een baith bleer't and blin', Spak o' lowpin* owre a linn — Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Time and chance are but a tide. Ha, ha, the wooing o't j Slighted love is sair to bide, Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Shall I like a fool, quoth he, For a haughty hizzie dee ? She may gae to —France for me ! Ha, ha, the wooing o't. How it came let doctors tell, Ila, ha, the wooing o't. Meg grew sick — as he grew heal, Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Something in her bosom wrings, For relief a sigh she brings ; And 0, her een, they spak sic things ! Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Duncan was a lad o' grace. Ha, ha, the wooing o't ; Maggie's was a piteous case, Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Duncan could nae be her death, Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath, Now they're crouse and canty baith — Ha, ha, the wooing o't. The contemptuous expression of Meggy's face, while, with a woman's instinctive quickness, she perceives the power which she has acquired over Duncan's heart, is in itself a history of the pains and perils of courtship. Duncan was as yet a novice in the art of wooing, and knew neither from hearsay nor experience the truth of the old French adage^ " Poursuive:vith the contents of one of wliich he is taking French leave. 3 IS JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION, ''THE RENT DAY." Wilkie is, in lii.s own department, the first painter of the age ; and, with the exception of Hogarth, tlie most spirited and original master of the Englisli Schooh Hi8 variety m infinite ; in refinement lie is vastly snperior to Hogarth ; and in tlie acnteness of his observation of what in characteristic in his subjects, he has notliing ecpial or second to him. Like Hogarth, he is strikingly dramatic, but in one xmpoi'tant feature he differs from his great predecessor. Hogarth carried the action of his moral dramas through a whole series of pictures, each forming, as it were, an act in the piece he was repre- senting, wliile the (Unonenient of the plot was contained in the la?ft of the series. Wilkie, on the other hand, contents himself with representing his conception more after the manner of a novel, in one single and striking scene. Hogarth, like Swift, always took an unfavoni-able view of life, and contem.plated mankind only on the dark side. A bitter vein of satire runs through all hi» productions, and he seems to take a genuine delight in representing his fellow-men in a state of the m.ost frightful depravity and misery ; wliile in Wilkie there is a genial warmth of sympathy with the passions, pleasures, frailties, and follies of the subjects he has selected for his models. In this respect he bears a close resemblance to his illustrious countryman. Sir Walter Scott. In that refined delineation of character which extends to the minutest particula,rs, the painter and the novelist were equally successful. Both were possessed of hearts which had their arguments as well as their understandings," and which, there- fore, throbbed rather with love and pity for the sufiering sons of men, than with contempt for their weaknesses, or with exaggerated and cynical ridiciile of their follies. In " The Rent Day," one of Wilkie's early and most successful tableaux de genre, the dramatic minutice are veiy efiective. The young widow, attired in the mournful habiliments peculiar to her bereaved condition, by the greatness of her sorrow and the modest dignity of her deportment, commands not only the respect but the indul- gence of her landlord. She brings with her, her two fatherless children, of whom the youngest, seated in her lap, is nibbling a key, instead of a coral garnisher. There is no picture in the whole of his Tqjertoire in which the Scotch artist has shown a greater affinity of mind, taste, and execution to the great Scotch novelist than in "The Hent Day." They both knew how to appreciate and describe the genial happiness which hallows and embellishes the narrow circle of domestic life, and both under- stood how, with masterly skill, by the admixture of delicate traits of good-natured humour, to heighten and refine the charm of such scenes. Whenever they descend into the vale of tears, and paint in the glowing language or colours of their respective metiers the afflictions of mind or body to which man is heir, their pathos is always genuine, and their humour never of a kind which is degrading to their subject or revolting to humanity. In such scenes as " Distraining for Rent," exhibited by Mr. W. Wells, Wilkie's benevolence and humour are conspicuous. There is none of that exaggeration and caricature which, in Hogarth, may please the cynic and the satirist, but can never leave an agreeable impression on a well-conditioned mind. The ]!)icture is highly tragic ; but notwithstanding the energy of expression, and the truly dramatic interest of the piece, the whole of the details are con- fined within the limits of truth. This cJief-tV muvre, when first exhibited at Somerset House, created quite a fiireur in the English public for pictures of a genuine national character. The impressive and touching nature of the conception, the skill with which the painter has elaborated the minutict} of the scene, and, above all, the truthfulness of the attitudes of the actors, and the life-like expression of their faces, riveted the attention of the spectators, and established Wilkie's rej^^^itation as the most spirited and faitliful delineator of the peculiarities of rural life in England. Wilkie has many of the excellencies, without sharing in the defects, of the Dutch jjainters of common life of the seventeenth century. In that careful and complete working out of the details* which dis- tinguish " The Rent Day," he reminds lis of Douw and Franz Mieris, In the spirit and freedom of his touch he is on an equality Avith Teniers and Jan Steen. There was, however, in the expression of Wilkie's face none of the refined humour which is so refreshing and arresting in his pictures. Like Sir Walter Scott, to whom we just now compared him, he was a humorist of that high rank in whom the fundamental tone of the character is pure benevolence and real love of mankind. Among humor- ists of this superior stamp, the genuine bias of the mind alone manifests itself externally, wliile the espmjlerk of the disposition is hid within the recesses of the bosom. SIR DAVID WILKIE. 19 ''THE RABBIT ON THE WALL." During the short interval of peace which succeeded the battle of Toulouse, Wilkie accompanied liis friend Haydon to Paris, for the purj)ose of studying the works of the great masters in the gallery of the Louvre. He was a warm admirer of the Dutch and Flemish schools, and in the style which he adopted after his return to England we see evident traces of the effect which the study of the chefs- ctceuvre in France had produced upon his ziiind. " The Rabbit on the Wall," painted about the year 1815, has much of the sharpness and precision of Teniers and Metzu. The productions of the French painters themselves, however, excited in him but little enthusiasm. Poussin and Claude he certainly admired, but never condescended to imitate. As his chief merit consisted in the truthful delineation of character, he scarcely appreciated at their just value the ideal and classical beauties of another school of art. David, who had achieved so high a reputation in Paris, was never a favourite of his ; and on that account it is that he preferred the Museum at the Hague, which he visited in. the year 1810, to all the glories of the Louvre. "THE GENTLE SHEPHERD." " The Gentle Shepherd," contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibition by Wilson Craig, l^sq., is ^ painting in a different style to those early tableaux de genre which made Wilkie's reputation^ The figures are larger, far more distinct, and less numerous; but still, in the entourage of the slieplierdi there is an attention to detail which reminds the spectator of Wilkie's youthful efforts, before the study of the ancient masters had modified his style. The younger of the two women is listening in earnest attention to the melody of the rustic musician, whose face, while he modulates on his pipe the favourite airs of the happy " Auld Lang Syne," wears an expression of reproachful sorrow. Is it that Estelle (to use the names of Florian's hero and heroine in his favourite j^astorelle) has given her constant Nemorin well-grounded cause for repj'oach and jealousy? Has she favoured the suit of some richer and more powerful rival, after plighting her troth to, and bestowing the first and gushing affections of her maiden heart upon, the companion of her infancy, the playmate and protector of her girlhood, and the straightforward and manly suitor of her ripening years? If so, the "gentle shepherd" is evidently bent upon awakening in her breast a sense of the sacred nature of her engagement to him, through the influence of those notes which have so often delighted her under happier auspices. There is no mean supplication in the attitude or expression of Nemorin — no abject humiliation at the shrine of a scornful and inconstant maid. He trusts to the powerful influence of music upon the imagination and feelings of Estelle, and if music fails he will try no other philtre. But the charm is already working, and the air has produced the effect he intended. " Oh ! how welcome breathes the strain, Waking thoughts that long have slei^tj Kindling former smiles again In faded eyes that long have wept ! " Like the gale that sighs along Beds of oriental flowers, Is the grateful breath of song, Often heard in happier hours. " Filled with balm the gale sighs on, Though the flowers hat^e sunk in death : So, when pleasure's dream is gone, Its memory lives in music's breath," "THE CUT FINaEB." For ease, reality, and characteristic grouping, " The Cut Finger " raiiks with Wilkie's hap2>iest efforts. We doubt whether his elaborate pictures give greater proofs of his acuteness of percei)tion. The minds of men of genius are, as it were, the mirrors of the ))ejiutiful and the true. Their impres- sions are reproduced in poetry, music, or painting, for the edification and delight of mankind. With the exactness of the daguerreotype, but with far more life and si)irit, Wilkie immortalises the homes 20 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. of his countrymen. He has not sought his subjects in palaces or mansions, where fashion now pro- duces tedious and unpicturesque uniformity. Had he done so, we doubt whether even his genius could have roused such deep emotions as are conjured up by the pencil of his great predecessor, THE RABBIT ON THE WALL. FROM A PAINTING BY SIR DAVID WILKIE. Hogarth. To have the power of awakening deep feelings, we must ourselves possess them, and we have no reason to suspect Wilkie of too much sensibility. But, judging from the importance and effect given to accessories in all Wilkie's pictures, we feel convinced that Hogarth's style had been thoroughly SIR DAVID WILKIE. 21 studied by him. Examine " The Cut Finger." A tarmer's wife might make an inventory from it of all things necessary for her menage. It was not enough to succeed in giving the exact expression to every face in the group, Wilkie knew the importance of small things, and is never guilty of any neglect of detail. It is owing to this exactness, that the more we gaze on Wilkie's pictures the more we admire them ; but of course the arresting beauty of his cottage scenes consists in their truth fidness. We can fancy we hear the old dame assuring the boy she will not hurt him, if he will only stand still. The boy, in roaring agony, negatives all attempt at consolation, and, but for the gentle coercion of the farm-servant, would not have been brought within the influence of the aged female surgeon. But, in our opinion, the face in this group, demonstrating the greatest refinement of talent, 22 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. is that of the ekler brotlicr, whose counteiiiince expresses at once his horror of the wound and his intense interest in tlie 02)eration. THE CHELSEA PENSIONERS." From the age of fifteen, Wilkie had worked Avith unremitting assiduity at his 7netier of artist, and liad advanced in wealth and reputation, until his fortunes reached their culminating point about the year in which he painted, for the Duke of Wellington, " The Chelsea Pensioners," which is considered his masteriiiece, and the last of his really great works. The picture represents a group of Chelsea pen- sioners reading in the Gazette the despatches of the duke, after the battle of Waterloo. . The subject was highly popular, and the execution of the picture is careful and elaborate. The necessary particu- lars were furnished by the conqueror himself, wdio superintended the arrangement of the groups, and remunerated the artist with princely liberality. For this picture Wilkie received from the " hero of a hundred fights " twelve hundred guineas ; and as " The Chelsea Pensioners " was the best thing which even Wilkie had yet produced, he was not overpaid. This success seems, however, to have been the turn in the tide of his j^rosperity. His sister, to whom he was devotedly attached, and in whose sor- rows he ])articipated as though they were his own, was at this time plunged in the deepest despair by the sudden death of her betrothed husband, when on the veiy eve of their marriage ; and as " misfor- tunes love a crowd," the death of his mother, to whom he owed all his success in life, followed close upon the shock of his sister's bereavement. Two of his brothers died the same month, one in the East Inches, and the other on his return from the Canadas. The death of the last brother involved Wilkie in a loss of a thousand pounds, as he had been security for him to that amount. A third brother failed in business; and shortly after the occurrence of these complicated misfortunes, the bankruptcy of Hurst and Robinson, the booksellers, deprived Wilkie himself of ^1,700, tile hard-earned proceeds of his genius and industry. Such an accumulation of miseries undermined his constitution ; and as the shattered state of his nerves rendered application to business impossible, he determined, in obedience to the advice of his friends and medical advisers, upon trying the elFect of a lengthened tour upon the Continent. SIR WALTER SCOTT AND FAMILY." The large picture of " Sir Walter Scott and \m Family," of which the engraving we insert is a faithful copy, was painted by Wilkie during the course of the visit which he paid his native land in 1817. The likenesses are admirable ; but the picture, as a whole, possesses few of the peculiarities of Wilkie' s style. There is much that is characteristic about Sir Walter Scott himself, and the Dandie Dinmont figure of the giant who is addressing him is very well conceived j but good as is the effect of the tableau^ we still feel that Wilkie was travelling out of the track which Nature had designed for him when he attempted portrait painting. ''THE BLIND FIDDLER." " The Blind Fiddler," exhibited in 1807, was painted with all the spirit and Cdnfidehce of acknow- ledged and successful genius. " The Village Politicians " had at once established the Hime of that David Wilkie, of whom Jackson, the painter, in 1805, writing to Haydon, said: "There is a raw, tall, pale, queer Scotchman come — an odd M\ow—hut there is something in him ; he is called Wilkie." Wilkie very soon let the world know that there w-as indeed in him something that the world had seen only in Teniers, and that the humour of the young Scottish painter, then about twenty, had in it that subtlety and pathos, that versatility and variety^ in which even Teniers is deficient. Still it was a pictui'e of Teniers that aroused in the breast of the quaint young Scotchman the cmcli io son 2nttore feel- ing, and to that feeling the world owes " The Village Politicians," and all the masterpieces of Wilkie's })encil. A sudden and great success makes a change, not merely in the estimation in which we are held by others, but, what is far more important, in that in which we hold ourselves. Triumph and failure alike try of what metal we are made. It had been the custom of the students to ridicule— in modern parlance to qui2— Wilkie, whose broad Scotch accent, cautious, parsimonious habit,^j lank red hair, and raw-boned figurC) exposed him to every species of joke and jeer, while he was on an equality with them, But the divine right of genius F5IR DAVID WILKTE. 23 in morn widely felt and acknowledged than, tli.at of kings — -"a divinity does hedge" the acknowledged master or monarch of any branch of high art ; and Haydon, writing of Wilkie, after he had exhibited " The Yillago Politicians " to a charmed and astonished world, and while he was engaged on that great masterpiece " The Blind Fiddler," says, "When Wilkie came among his old friends again, his Scotch friends commenced their old jokes; but, alas! Vfilkie had proved his great genius, and their jokes fell dead. Some looked at him with mysterious curiosity, others were silent ; and Wilkie drew on, quiet and self-possessed, without appearing to notice their failure. He had, and he desorviul to have, a complete triumph. We were all chapfallen, and deserved to be so. Let students be cau.tious how they quiz external peculiarities, until they are certain what they conceal." Wilkie's habits of self-concentration, close study of his ai-t, and simple almost rustic naivete, were unimpaired by the brilliant success of his debut ; and although his own attempts at becoming a beau were ridiculous enough, and provoke a smile, and we laugh to hear of his " talking grandly," buying new coats, and dressing like a dandy, there is something very touching in the fact that his first thoughts, on receiving a cheque for tliirty poiuids (the sum with which Lord Mansfield so miserably underpaid him for " The Tillage Politicians "), were turned towards his mother and sister ; and he, with rustic triumphj showed his friend, spread out in glittering array, two new bonnets, two new shawls, ribbons, satins, &c., to delight his female relatives, astonish the natives of Cutts, and shine in the parish church of which his father was the minister. " The Blind Fiddler " was painted for Sir George Beaumont. The mother of the baby was painted (as we have noticed below, in the extracts relating to Wilkie, out of Haydon' s autobiography) from a remarkable girl named Lizzy, who lodged in Eathbone Place, above some friends of Wilkie, and who, possessed of a fine person, a masculine mind, devoted nature, pure heart, but daring defiance of custom, became the intimate associate of that band of young brothers in art, of whom Wilkie was the chief — made tea for them, carved, marketed, occasionally sitting to them, arguing with them, ever able to hold her own, sympathising in all their trials, glorying in their triumphs, "and giving," says Haydon, "a zest and intensity to our thoughts and our arguments." • The then Lizzy, who was a sister to all, and respected as such, but who ultimately married a well-born, fascinating Frenchman, one of this strange brilliant clique — she, this young and handsome girl, so interesting as the only woman intimately associated with those happy days in Rathbone Pliice, she sat for the mother in Wilkie's " Blind Fiddler." The old man near the w?Jl was taken from a study of a gamekeeper, by Haydon. The picture is carefully painted, and admirably grouped; in 1807 it was the great attraction of the exhibition. Wilkie was essentially a painter for the million. His genius was a hardy plant, nourished in poverty. For a great part of his early life he was too poor to procure animal food, which was too great a luxury for the son of a poor Scotch minister. The influences of his Inunble origin tinctured his views, and acted on the whole of his brilliant career. With regard to his character, his virtues sometimes degenerated into failings. His economy nearly became meanness, and his prudence selfish- ness. One of his most intimate friends remarks of him : " Never was such simplicity, such genius, such prudence, such steadiness, and such inconsistency united." The intense labour, evidenced by the perfection of his pictures, is the more meritorious, as his health was delicate. True, he had no- domestic cares to distract his attention. He was heard to observe that "when he married, it would be a matter of interest." Probably he never met any woman rich enough to lure him from the sweet liberty of bachelorhood. Nevertheless, when basking in court favour, his high reputation must have procured him many good opportunities. Not that his portraits of royalty added to his fame. The " tableau de genre " was his style, and a reviewer of the day, alluding to his picture of William lY., exclaimed with justice — " Wilkie, the Teniers from old Scotia's shore, Wilkie paints kings, and Wilkie is no more." But the numerous pictures, in which his own peculiar genius shines forth, are a handsome legacy to his country. They have hitherto been quite unapproached, and we fear they will long remain so, but should any embryo geniuses in this style exist among us we cannot do anything more likely to foster their growth than to disseminate, in this cheaj) form, these masterpieces of our great artist. He visited France and Switzerland, but without loitering on his road ; for Italy, " the mother of JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. arts and arms," was tlie goal of all liii^i liopes. He tan*ied eight months in the land which produced Enphael and Michael Angelo, but the productions of these great Italian masters failed to excite in him the enthusiasm which connoisseurs have either feigned or felt about them. The works of Titian and GriorgionC, Vhich he studied at Venice, were more to his fancy, and in all his subsequent productions he endeavoured to imitate their peculianties of style and beauties of colouring. After leaving Venice, he traversed Germany, and carefully examined the treasures of art contained in the galleries of Dresden. He travelled through Bohemia and Austria, and after storing his mind with the study of everything Avorthy of observation at Prague and Vienna, he returned to Rome, where he completed three pictures in a style entii-ely different from anything he had attempted before. In the year 1827 he crossed the Pyi-enees, and while at Madrid painted four pictures, which bear evident traces of the effect which the study of the Spanish masters had produced on his impressionable and imitative mind. He returned to England in 1828, and exhibited at Somerset House, in 1829, all the pictures which he had executed JOHN CASSELL'S ART TJREASURES EXHIBITION^ 25 during his long residence abroad. His intimate friend and collahorateur, Haydon, thus aUudes, in his own autobiography, to the change which his travels had effected in his style : — "July 22nd, 1829." Had a very pleasant two hours indeed with Wilkie, looking over his Spanish pictures, and had one of ovir usual discussions about art. The worst is one never can find out Wilkie' s genuine opinion upon art. He is always influenced by his immediate interests or convenience, what- ever that may be. Now it is all Spanish and Italian art. He thinks nothing of his early and beau- tiful efforts — his " Rent Day," his " Fiddler," his " Politicians " j they are not carried far enough, as if anything on earth, in point of expression and story, was ever carried farther. Italian art is to him quite new, and he comes out, to his own astonishment, with notions and principles wliich, to those who began as I did with Italian art, are quite a settled and old story. At the same time there is great liberality in Wilkie, for he keeps nothing to himself, and, right or wrong, always communicates his thoughts to others." THE BLIND FIDDLER. FROM A PAINTINO BY SIR DAVID WILKIE. The next entry in Haydon's diary gives some insight into Wilkie's character : — " March 1st, 1830. Spent an hour with Wilkie very delightfully. Since his return from Italy he seems tending to me very much. We got mutually kind to-day, and mutually explained. The only quarrel we ever had was about that arrest. I was too severe and he too timid. We ought to have made mutual allowance for our respective peculiarities. He had dined with me the night before. We had drunk success to my marriage. We parted mutually friendly. The next morning I was arrested by a printer, to whom I had paid £120 that year, for the balance of <£G0. It was the second time in my life. The bailiff said ' Have you no friend, sir?' * Certainly,' said I, and at once drove to Wilkie's. Where ought I to have driven? Whom ought I to have thought of? * I thought it would come to this,' said Wilkie j and, after a great deal of very bad behaviour, he became my bail. When roused. 4 26 JOHN CASSELL'S AUT TJ^EASURES EXHIBITION. I am like a furious bard of ancient days. I poured forth such a furious torrent of sarcasm and truth that I shook him to death. Wilkie told me to-day it sank deep into his mind, and never left him for months." In the course of this year, Wilkie, who was now devoting himself to portrait painting — a style in wliich he never succeeded — was, by the King's appointment, made Serjeant Painter. He was at this time a candidate for the presidency of the Royal Academy, vacant by the death of Lawrence. " The moment," says Hay don, " that I saw his name in the Gazette^ I knew it would destroy his chance of success." Hay don was right. Wilkie had only two votes, while Shee, the other candidate, had eighteen. In the year 1836 he received the honour of knighthood from William IV. About this time he visited Ireland, and " The Peep-o'-day Boy's Cabin," which he painted after his return, is a picture of Irish insj5ii*ation. " Mary, Queen of Scots " and " The Cotter's Saturday Night," of which the sub- ject is taken from Burns's poem, were the most characteristic tableaux de genre executed at this time. In 1840 he set out on his fatal journey to the East. He steamed down the Danube, and reached Constantinople in the beginning of 1841. Thence he travelled to Jerusalem, and in the middle of April proceeded by the sea-coast of Syi-ia into Egypt. At Alexandria his health began to fail, and towards the end of May he embarked on board the " Oriental " for England. At Malta he indulged too freely his appetite for fmit, which brought on an increase Of his illness, and on the 1st of May, 1841, he died. In the autobiography and memoirs of B. Haydon we read the following interesting account of the untimely death of our great domestic artist : — "It was at this time" (May 11th, 1841), says the editor of Haydon' s autobiography, ''that the news of Wilkie's death reached England. Haydon was deeply shaken by the loss of his old friend, for, despite rooted differences of character and long estrangements, he had a true and deep regard for Wilkie, as I believe Wilkie had for him. The thought of this death dwelt in Haydon's mind for months, and hardly any entry of the journal for the rest of the year but contains some allusion to it." "May 12th. — Read prayers, and prayed for the soul of my dear old friend David Wilkie. The last week I have been at Dover, and one evening, at Warren's library, in the Chronicle^ I read an account of the ' Oriental's ' arrival. I rapidly ran over the names and did not see Wilkie's. I read on, my heart literally thumping against my side, till I came to * Sir David Wilkie expired in the Bay of Gibraltar.' A painful trembling seized me. I had begged and entreated him before he went, to be cautious of such a journey. I begged him to read Madden, to understand the nature of the diseases, and consider his weakness of constitution j in fact, I all but predicted his death. In my mind, pri- vately, I felt convinced he would not return, and said so to my family. Poor dear Wilkie ! with, all thy heartless timidities of character — with thy shrinking cowardly want of resolution, looking as if thou hadst sneaked through life pursued by the ghosts of forty academicians — thy great genius — our early friendship — our long attachment through thirty-six years — thy touching death and romantic burial brought thy loss bitterly to my heart." There was no other artist of the time with whom Wilkie was on terms of such intimate and even daily intercourse as Haydon ; and if the bias of his own morbid mind had not tinctured his views, and the jealousy of a successful rival in the profession warped his judgment, there is no one who could have given a fairer estimate of Wilkie's merits, as an artist and a man. We must, however, take everything that Haydon has written about his friend cum grano salis, and recollect if Wilkie was occasionally less ready to grant than Haydon to apply for assistance, that constant calls upon the purse are apt to sour a man's temper. Haydon's autobiograj^hy is, however, valuable, notwithstanding these draw^ backs, to all the admirers of Wilkie, on account of the many particulars it contains of the Scotch artist's early life in London, of his hopes, his fears, his rapid progress, and his brilliant success. We said that Haydon's autobiography contained some interesting memoirs of Wilkie's early pro- gress in London. Before we dismiss the subject of the Scotch painter and his pictures, we will give, in a rival artist's own words, the history of Wilkie's first triumphs. "The exhibition time of 1806 approached, and Wilkie began to make a great noise. Sir George described him as a young man who dame to London, saw a picture of Teniers', went home, and at once painted ' The Village Politicians.' That was the wonder, 'at once.' 'At once, my dear Lady Mulgrave, at once !' And off all crowded to the little parlour of No. 8, Norton Street, to see the picture painted by the young Scotchman, who SIR DAVID WILKIE. 27 never painted a picture or saw one until tlie morning when he saw the Teniers, and tlien rushed homo and produced * The Politicians ! ' " Personal appearance is everything in life. A good air and confident modesty make a great impres- sion. Wilkie was a pale, retiring, awkward, hard-working, and not over-fed student. The women did not report well to each other of the artist, but his picture was wonderful ! The last day for sending in the pictures arrived, and J ackson told me that he remained late at night endeavouring to persuade Wilkie to send his picture in, but such was his timidity and modesty that he really did not seem to believe in his merit, nor had he fully consented when Jackson took his leave. However, to the Academy it went. '■^ * On the Hanging- day the academicians were so delighted that they hung it on the chimney, the best place for a fine picture. On the private day there was a crowd about it, and at the dinner, Angerstein took the Prince up to see it. On the Sunday (the next day) I read in the J^etvs, * A young man by the name of Wilkie, a Scotchman, has a very extraordinary work.' I was in the clouds — hurried over my breakfast — rushed away — met Jackson, who joined me, and we both bolted into Wilkie's room. I roared out ' Wilkie, my boy, your name's in the paper ! ' ' Is it rea-al-ly 1 ' said David. I read the puff — we huzzaed — and, taking hands, all three danced round the table until we were tired. By those who remember the tone of Wilkie's ' rea-al-ly,' this will be relished. Eastlake told me that Calcott said once to Wilkie, ' Do you not know that every one com- plains of your continual rea-al-ly ? ' ' Do they rea-al-ly V ' You must leave it off.' ' I will, rea-al-ly.' *For heaven's sake don't keep repeating it,' said Calcott; 'it annoys me.' Wilkie looked, smiled, and in the most unconscious manner said ' rea-al-ly.' " Moore has beautifully sung, and the public verdict has endorsed the truth of the song, that There's nothing half so sweet iu life as Love's young dream." We question whether the poet ought not to have made an exception in favour of the sensations of tha.t aspirant after fame who, fired with a noble ambition, and conscious of the possession of that Divinw particula aurce — " genius," goes to bed at night an obscure, unknown, and nameless individual, and awakes next morning and finds himself famous. Wilkie would not have bartered the intoxicating delight of his first triumph for all the joys that reciprocal affection has ever conferred upon happy lovers. Wilkie's fit of idleness did not last long. After a few days spent in inactive wonder at his own success, he said to Haydon, " I have been jest very idle," and so for a couple of days he set to, heart and soul, at " The Blind Fiddler," for Sir George Beaumont, " The progress of this produc- tion," says Haydon, " I w^atched with delight. I conceived the world must be right, and if I could not see his superiority that I must be wi'ong. I therefore studied his proceeding as he went on, and gained from him great and useful knowledge. 'What is this, and that, and that for V brought out answers which I stored up. His knowledge in composition was exquisite. The remarks he made to me relative to his own works I looked into Rafaelle for, and found them applied ther^, and then it was evident to me that Wilkie's peasant pictures concealed deep principles of the ponere totum which I did not know. It was through ignorance and not superior knowledge that at first I could not perceive his excellence. This was a great and useful discovery. I found this ' thin, tall, bony fellow,' as J ackson called him, a great master at twenty. But his eye for colour was really horrid. He put a beastly yellow in his flesh, he had no feeling for pearly tints or wipasto. His flesh was meagre, thin, dirty mud. We used to argue about glazing and pure preparation of tint without yellow. I painted an old gamekeeper (the model of the old grandfather by the fire in ' The Blind Fiddler '), and then glazed it. Wilkie was so delighted, he borrowed my study, and tried the fiddler's right hand without yellow, toned it, and really it was the only bit of pure colour in the work. He was candid enough to say that I had greatly assisted him in that point, and told a friend that my study of the head had been of great service, which I believe, for I have always had an eye for colour (first taught by Jackson) which Wilkie never had." The Art Treasures Exhibition is rich in the productions of Wilkie's genius ; but many of his master- pieces are nevertheless absent from the collection. Among those contributed by different proprietors, of which we have given illustrations in our Wilkie numbers, are " The Jew's Harp," by W. Wells, Esq., " The Letter of Introduction," by Bonamy Dobree, Esq., " Blindman's Buff," by Her Majesty the Queen, " The Rent Day," by John Chapman, Esq.,>nd " The Gentle Shepherd," by Wilson Craig, i:sq, JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. " TUB TWA DOGS." FROM A PAINTING BY SIR EDWIN LANDSEER. (Bi/ permission of Mr. Gmiihert.) SIR EDWIN LANDSEER, IR EDWIN LANDSEER was born in the year 1801, and is now in his fifty- seventh year. He was the son of an engraver, and, like the generality of those who have afterwards distinguished themselves, either in poetry, painting, or mnsic, he showed an early predilection for that branch of art in which he has since attained such high repute. " The Intruder," which is at present in the collection of Sir P. de Malpas Grey Egerton, was painted by Landseer when he was only sixteen years of age, and gave decided promise of future success. Sanguine, however, as were the expecta- ^^^^l^-^SBi^ tions which were formed of the artist from this boyish production of his genius, -^-^x no one as yet foresaw the brilliant future that awaited him, or discovered in his effoi*ts that ' extraordinary power which has enabled him to distance every rival, and has conferred upon I him the well-deserved title of "Ze Raffaelle des chiens." As early as 1831 he was elected a \ member of the Royal Academy, and the exquisite skill he displayed in representing upon canvas, with life-like accuracy, some of the Highland ponies upon which the royal children ^ere accustomed to ride, and some of the pet dogs belonging to their august parents, so ^nde^red him 3 the Queen, that, in 1850, he received the honour of knighthood at her hand. m. Ei)WiN LANDSEfiR, •^9 DIGNITY AND IMPUDENCE. FROM A PAINTING BY SIR EDWI-S LANDSEER. fBi/ psrmission of Jf/-. M'Lstn.J The .ubjeetof this brief biographical sketch is a great favourite with our transatlantic cousins There is indeed no corner of the civilised world in which he is not acknowledged to be the fi st i tn of the ace ■ but in America his cJie/s-d'cmvre command as high prices, and are as much tl e Z^^JT^l^^:^ iX-l itselt. find from a New York circular that, in 1 848, at a sal. JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. of some pictures belonging to a Mr. W. Simpson, three of Landseer's earlier works were sold in that city ; one, a small painting on a panel, five inches by four, representing " A Scotch Terrier with a Rat in his Mouth." Small as the painting was, it was bought, after much competition, for 367 dollars. Another, on canvas, called " Waiting for Orders," wdiich was a small full-length portrait of Mr. Simpson's coach- man, fetched 1G8 dollars; and the third, entitled "The Roddock," representing an old chestnut horse and a white Scotch terrier, near a pond, with a distant view of "Windsor Castle, a finely executed work and full of cliaracter, brought 525 dollars. Our readers will judge from these facts how great is the value the Americans set upon the smallest, and most unimportant, productions of Landseer. Sir Edwin is now in the full tide of success, and with a genius and execution which time and experience have refined and perfected. He has lost none of the fire and brilliancy of his youth, but he has the judgment, labour, and research, of i-ipened manhood. His " Rough and Ready," in the exhibition of the Royal Academy this year, is quite as happy in conception as anything he ever attempted, and we think connoisseurs will agree with us in our opinion that it is, in execution, the most perfect of all his chefs-cVmwre. Long may he retain, in unimpaired health of mind and body, the power of delighting the world with these yearly additions to his unequalled repertoire of animal portraits. "THE TWA DOGS." In the engraving with which we commence our illustrations, " The Twa Dogs," there is a whole volume of meaning. The two animals are intended as types of their species : the one, sleek, thorough- bred, petted, and prized for his beauty, is in strong conti'ast with the rough, crop-eared, and mongrel cur, who, ^vithout friends, home, or occupation, shows, in his shaggy person and in his lantern jaws, how badly the world has treated him, and how little he owes to the smiles of fortune. One could almost imagine, from the expression of their faces, that the thorough-bred was descanting, before his half-savage and degenex^ate cousin, upon the blessings of civilised life, and upon the great advantages in canine society of purity of breed, and of an aristoci'atic pedigree of undoubted authenticity. His graceful and easy attitude, and his well-feathered paws crossed in the fashion most approved among dogs of high lineage, show how thoroughly he is satisfied with himself and his condition. The attitude of the mongrel is that of a dog who listens with impatience to the history of enjoyments in which he can never hope to share ; and who, while he dissembles his envy, feigns no small amount of contempt for a friend who is compelled to' wear round his neck a badge of slavery in the shape of a collar. Upon his own throat there is no yoke, ai>d he is therefore fully justified in retaliating upon the thorough- bred by praising, with canine enthusiasm, the liberty he enjoys. *' His mongrel heart was of a mould Which in a dungeon had grown cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the pure mountain-side." There is, notwithstanding the disadvantages of his birth and position, something noble in the way in which he disclaims all wish to particimte in what he knows he cannot get, and asserts, with canine inde})endence, the superiority of that vagabond life and vmcertain fare, to which liberty gives a zest, over any species of captivity, however luxurious may be the bed and abundant the board. It is evident that the thorough-bred is taken rather aback by this view of their relative positions ; and that, although he c^innot admit the force of mongrel's arguments, he does not know exactly how to answer him. Who but Landseer could have thrown so much expression into a dog's face, or have witten so legibly, on canine features, the history of a dog's thoughts ? LAYING DOWN THE LAW." This is, perhaps, one of the most elaborate of all Landseer's productions, and is intended to illus- tmte the proceedings of a court of law, in which judge, counsel, clients, &c. &c., are all dogs of different breeds. The case is evidently a point of law upon which his lordship has to decide, and not a matter of fact, which would have gone before the jury. Council on both sides have delivered their arguments, and the last speaker, a heavy-browed black dog of the retriever race, overcome with the SIR EDWIN LANDSEER. 31 weight of his own eloquence, has fallen into a gentle slumber, quite convinced, as he no doubt is, that after the unanswerable arguments he has adduced, the decree of his lordship must be in favour of his client. The judge, a dignified poodle of the French breed, with a natural wig that would have done credit to a Burleigh, after a brief perusal of his notes, has laid down his glasses, and, with his white and feathered paw on the book of precedents, and an expression of stern resolution on his canine features, is pronouncing his decree. On either side of the table are stationed the opposing counsel and their clients. The winning party may be known by the qualified and triumphant expression of their faces, while their unfortunate antagonists are proportionately depressed and indignant. In the eye of the bull- dog there is something dangerous — an ex2:)ression of determined malignity, coupled with a consciousness of power, which makes us feel that he would be an awkward customer for a successful opponent to meet in a lonely spot, while he was still smarting under the mortification of a recent defeat. The demon- strative mge of the bull-dog has awakened in a greyhound near him — who is junior counsel on the losing side, and who bears the same resemblance to the bull-dog that Mr. Silvertongue would to Sergeant Bluster — some anxiety as to the effect which such ebullitions may have upon the court. There is a deprecatory expression in the glance he gives his learned brother, which implies that, for the sake of all, he must at any rate control his indignation until he is safe out of the judge's hearing. A wolf-dog, who is equally em'aged at the decree, which he declares is contrary both to law and equity, is addressing his remarks upon the case, in an undertone, to a mastiff, who seems, by the impassive expression of his face, to look upon defeat as an evil to which all in the profession must occasionally submit with temper. Indeed, the equanimity with which he resigns himself to a misfortune he could not avert, suggests the idea that he is not unused to such reverses. A S2)aniel, who has a " devil-may-care " look about him, is turning everything into ridicule — court, counocl, and clients ; and the merry twinkle in his eye is skilfully contrasted with the calm and stately dignity of the judge. An usher is leaning over the partition, and enforcing order among witnesses and loiterers while his lordship is speaking. Another officer of the court is waiting for the conclusion of the judgment with a missive for the judge. The head of the client, half concealed by the seat of justice, may be seen peering with an eye of intense anxiety upon the proceedings in which he is so deeply interested. He is evidently too nervous about the issue to show himself more openly. What an almost miraculous knowledge of the peculiarities of the numerous varieties of the canine species is displayed by Landseer in this complicated and elaborate picture ! Who but the " Raffaelle des chiens himself could have conceived such a scene, or^ having conceived it, could have ventured upon the execution of the picture ? "DIGKl^f AND IMPUDENCE." This celebrated painting of Landseer is the contribution of Jacob Bellj I^sq., to tlie Art Treasures Exhibition^ The subjects represented are a huge mastiff and a Scotch terrier, contemplating, from tlie same kennel, the objects which are passing in the yard before them. The face ol the mastiff expresses that calm indifference to all external objects wdiich is inseparable from a lofty and iioble nature. ' ' Si fractus illabatur orbis, ImpavicUim ferient ruinse." In " Impudence," or the Scotch terrier, how different is the effect which jDassing e^'ents have upon the canine perception. At every sound he pricks up the remnants of his cropped ea'T. or rather the long hair which stands in lieu of those prostituted organs. He barks at everything that passes, and shows his teeth and growls when anything he is not familiar with approaches him. He tries to unite with all the immunities of weakness the privileges of powe^, and, relying U])on the protection of the powerful mastiff at his side, he insults, with the sna2^pishness ot the cur he is, friend and foe, stranger and sojourner. He shows in this respect a spirit similar to that which we discover in many who cannot plead as their excuse his want of reason, but who, abject in adversity, and overbearing in success, like the terrier of Landseer, are too mean and powerless to excite anything but the contempt of those whom they attack. No artist of any age or country has ever surpassed or even rivalled Landseer in his power of describing, with life-like reality, the characteristics of the animal world. The study of the physiognomy. 32 JOHN CASSELLS ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. habits, and instincts of the brute creation is as difficult and engrossing as that of the human form divine, or of inanimate nature in its ever-varying phases. The painter of horses, dogs, deer, and feathered game finds that, in the Avalk of art which he has chosen for his own, perfection is a plant of very tardy growth ; and that the artists who have achieved any enduring reputation as painters of animals are but few and far between, compared with those who have gained wealth and reputation as portrait or landscape painters. The difficulties, however, which have to be overcome render success in this style the more honourable and " lucrative ; and the fame and fortune which Sir Edwin Landseer LAYING DOWN THE LAW. FROM A PAINTING BY SIR EDWIN LANDSEER. (By permis 10 of Mr. M'LeanJ has realised in this department ot art are a sufficient proof that the public are as ready to recognise genius in one style as in another. There are obstacles in the way of becoming famous as a painter of animals which would daunt a man of timid disposition, and effectually check his progress. To represent the deer such as we see him in The Stag at Bay," " The Sanctuary," " The Death of the Stag," or "Coming Events," how acute must be the powers of observation, how assiduous the study of the habits of the animal, and how continual the attendance at his haunts, paths, and pasture-grounds. With dogs the study is less arduous, as they are domesticated with us, can be watched, and have the varying expression of their faces analysed and copied at leisure. With the red-deer, the subject of Landseer's JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. 33 masterpieces, the case is very difF«rent. The animal is sliy, suspicious, and savaov. To approach him at all is difficult, and, without dangei', impossible. And yet what long years must have been spent in communion with this fierce denizen of tlie forest, before the artist could produce so perfect a repre- sentation of his every action and attitude as we see in " The Stag at Ba'y." Every trait of character, every instinct of the race, has been learnt as it were l)y rote, and committed with faithful exactitude to the canvas. HIGH LIFE." This beautiful and carefully-executed engraving, from Landseer's celebrated picture, represents a thorough-bred stag-hound, the pro])erty of his Royal Highness Prince Albert. The noble and intelligent animal is surrounded by all those appliances of rank and wealth which adorned the high life of mediaeval times. Here we see revived forms and fashions which are only known to us through the medium of tradition. 5 34 JOHN CASSELL'S AllT TREASURES EXHIBITION. ' ' The knights are dust, Their good swords are rust, Their souk are with the sariuts, we trust." But though time has on its irresistible tide washed away every vestige of the days of knight- errantry, joust, and tournament, Landseer, in tlie i)icture before us, has reproduced, with a careful attention to historical accuracy, a chamber scene of the date of Richard Coeur-de-Lion. One could almost fancy that Brian du Bois Gilbert or Philippe de Malvoisin had tenanted such a room in the beleaoiu'ed Castle of Front de Boeuf. The knight's helmet and tnisty sword, his steel cuirass and his gauntlet, his illuminated missal, his luxurious couch, the splendid hangings of his chamber, and the view of the castle tower, with his banner floating from the keep, are in harmony with the sleek and high-bred appearance of the deer-hound, who occupies with the air of legitimate authority the seat of his absent master. How fidl of meaning have the pages of " Ivanhoe " made such scenes as these 1 ' The pojiular style, unflagging interest, varied descriptions, irresistible pathos, and winning humour of Sir Walter Scott are as much appi'eciated by the million as by the millionaii'e ; and Sir Edwin Land- seer, in x'epresenting such a scene as that before us, has described nothing which (thanks to the universal dissemination of Scott's novels) will not be equally admired and equally well understood by high and low, rich and poor, gentle and churl. There is a, fascination about the times of chivalry which connects it closely with the descriptions of aristocratic life. Knighthood in those days was really a distinction. The honour was only conferred upon men who, after a long course of training in the use of their weapons, and after sundry proofs of self-control, courage, and refinement of mind, were deemed worthy of the name. In these degenerate days it may be something to be a knight of an ordei', but so little to belong to the order of knighthood, that many decline the ofler of a title which they see borne by so many roturiers. The j^ose of the deer-hound is exquisitely graceful, and reveals that union of strength and activity for which the animal is remarkable. What a contrast is the corresponding picture. **LOW LIFE." The time of this exquisitely truthful and humorous impersonation in the fat, coarse, unwieldy mastiff of "Low Life" in England, is the present day. What a picture of unmannerly bearing, untutored disposition, uncontrolled passions, and vicious self-indulgence, is the face of this brute ? His eye half- destroyed in some disgraceful brawl ; his tongue lolling with vulgar impudence out of one side of his mouth ; his unwieldy carcass — gross and dropsical, through the gratification of all his brutal appetites ; his bandy legs, and the impudent defiance of his attitude, are in keeping with the entourage of the domicile. A pewter pot, with a pipe protruding from its rim j a pair of coachman's heavy top-boots, misshapen like the foot they are made to encase ; the unwieldy butcher's block which serves for a table ; the black bottle, and the horn-handled blade, are all in character, and prove that the dumb representative of " Low Life " has only borrowed the fierceness and vulgarity of his disposition — of which we see sufficient proof in his hardened features, and in the surly expi^ession of his squinting eye — from the human brute, who, though his master, and a lord of the creation, is but little removed from him in the intellectual scale. These two masterpieces would alone have immortalised Landseer, had nothing from his brush either preceded or followed them. When, however, we turn to those great and complicated chefs-cVoeuvre, " Peace " and " War," we are amazed at the versatility of his genius, and can scarcely comprehend how the same fancy could have conceived, the same ingenuity have planned, and the same hand have executed subjects so different inland as "High Life" and "Low Life," "Peace" and " War." These two paintings, which have already achieved a world-wide reputation, were executed to the order of that Mr. Vernon who was so enthusiastic a patron of fine arts, and who has since bequeathed his splendid collection of pictures to the nation. He gave Landseer £3,500 for the two paintings, and a similar sum has been since paid for permission to engrave them, of which one-third • was handed over to Mr. Yernon for his consent. " Whoever," says a celebrated critic, " views these pictures, so entirely unlike all that could be anticipated, will at once feel that it is not mere talent but genius that has here achieved a triumph." The "clever artist," for a portraitin^e of war, would have given us, in minute detail, all the horrors of a battle-field, or of a sacked city. Landseer presents us SIR EDWIN LANDSEEE. 35 only with tlie desolated gardens and smouldering I'uins of a peasant's cottage. Yet how fearful a memorial is this of the devastating and blighting plague of war ^ Our painter did not follow out the popular idea of painting war in all its pomp and panoply ; he does not describe a tented field, a glorious victory, or a disastrous defeat ; but he brings home to the mind of the spectator the desolation and misery which accompanies this scourge of humanity. He represents a garden once redolent of flowers, and the peaceful haunt of those whose study was to cultivate and beautify it, suddenly transformed into a chaos of crumbled walls, charred and prostrate roof-timbers, blackened trees, and shattered windows. The broken flower-pots, with their crushed and scattered roses, speak a whole vohune of meaning. " And there lay the steed vi'ith his uostrila all wide, Though through them there rolled not the breath of his pride." The rider of this black war-horse has been crushed by the falling of the rafters ; and ailotlier steed^ which once bore that handsome trooper in safety through the field, who now lies helpless and buried under the roof-beam, is writhing in the agonies of death. As we gaze upon this scene of horror, the beautiful but humiliating description in the " Siege of Corinth " of a battle-field after the battle is over, recurs with peculiar significance to the mind. Alp turned him from the sickening sight^ Never had shaken his nei*veS in fight ; But he better could brook to behold the dyings Deep in the tide of their warm blood lying, Scorched with the death-thirst and -ftTithing in vain, Than the perishing dead who are passed all pain. There is something of pride in the perilous hour, Whate'er be the shape in "which death may lower ; For Fame is there to tell who bleeds, And Honour's eye on daring deeds. But when all is o'er, it is humbling to tread O'er the weltering field of the tombless dead ; To see beasts of the field, and fowls of the air, Worms of the earth, all gathering there — All regarding man as their prey, All rejoicing in his decay." From such a scene we tiu'ii with, a curious revolution of feeling to the calm and soothing picture wdiich embodies the idea of " Peace." The foreground of the scene represents the clifls north of Dover. The castle is farther down, and the port below may be seen with its line of buildings stretching into the sea ; while on the horizon of the summer sky dawns the dim outliiie of the Calais coast. The verdant table-land and grassy slopes of the clifF are covered with herds of goats and flocks of slieei), white and fleecy; while frisking kids and playful lambs — basking in the sunshine, or wantonly tearing the herbage they are too well supplied with to crop — give an appearance of peace, plenty, and security to the scene, w^iich is in strange and striking contnist to the horrors of the corresponding picture of war. This pastoral assemblage is intrusted to the care of a boy, a girl, and a child. So perfect is the Beiise of safety from all outwaixl aggression, that the most feeble of our race sufiices for the protection of all this valuable live-stock. The worsted which the little girl is winding, the housewife, and the toy boat, are evidences of the i^eaceful jiursuits of these guardians of the flock. The cannon — rusty, useless, and dismounted — shows that the demon of war, which once haunted this lovely land, has ceased to hara>ss its tenants j and a lamb cropping the gi-ass which, instead of " bullets wrapt in fire," is peeping fi*om the cannon's mouth, is significant of the change which has come over the scene. The blue sea in the distance reflects the azure of the sky, and is " calm as a mill-pond," though here and there dotted with white and wing-like sails. It is, indeed, almost impossible to translate into language the peaceful serenity which characterises every feature of this exquisite composition. When we turn from the complicated and startling horrors of the war scene to this sweet and characteristic landscape, the mind recovers the balance which had been so fearfully shaken, and settles down again into a feeling of ease, comfort, and security* The copyright of the engravings from these two celebrated pictures 36 JOHN CASSELL'S AUT TREASURES EXHIBITION. UIGH LIFE. FROM A PAINTING BY SIR EDWIN LANDSEER, K.A. (By pmniamn oj Messrs. Graves. J LOW LIFE. FROM A PAINTING BY SIR EDWIN LANDSEBR, R.A. (Bu i)€rmisdon of Messrs. GraveeJ 38 JOHN CASSELL^S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. belongs to Messrs. Graves, of Pall-mall, who paid three thousand guineas for the imvilege of reproducing them — so high is the estimation in which the public hold, even at second-hand, the conceptions of this great painter. ''THE STAG IN THE TORRENT." " The Stag in the Torrent " is a picture in quite another style, and of the kind in which Landseer fu'st achieved his high rejiutation. In " Peace " and " War," he travelled a little out of his accustomed track; for the jmrpose, Ave should imagine, of convincing the world that his genius was of a nature so versatile and comprehensive, as to enable him to execute with equal skill a painting in any style. In " The Stag in the Torrent," of which the accompanying engraving is a faithful copy, Landseer brought the experience of a long life of study and reflection to his aid. The animal rejn-esented is one of those noble and antlered lords of the forest — the red-deer of Scotland — who are so graceful and symmetrical in their form, so powerful in their strength, and so unrivalled in their fleetness and activity. The subject of this painting has evidently outlived the dangers and fatigues of a long day of piu'siiit ; for the rays of the setting sun but dimly illumine the scene of the stag's last efforts to escape from his persevering and undaunted pursuers. He has dashed across rivers, SAVum lakes and meres, bounded over the hills, and flown through the vales ; but thews, sinews, and muscles of flesh could sustain him no longer, and he fails at the most critical moment — ^in his attempt to ford a torrent at the outlet of a lake. Still he is victorious even in the moment of defeat. One of his mof>t daring foes lies gasping in the agonies of death under his quivering hoof ; and although another still hangs, with the pei-tinacity of the race to which he belongs, upon the neck of his victim, it is not from the tooth of this breathless and now powerless deer-hound that " The Stag in the Torrent " will receive the " coup de grace.'' His glazed and heavy eye — the convulsive efforts with which he draws his breath — his faltering step, and collapsed form — show plainly that the struggle of nature is nearly over. If memory ever dwells in the bi-ain of the antlered monarch of the wood, we should almost fancy that the retrospective glance he casts at the hills, lakes, and vail eys in the distance, is a last and sad farewell to the scenes he may never more revisit. The setting sun, when it shall rise again on the sjmcious deer- walks and lonely glens, in wliicli he so long luxuriated, will find him no longer the fleet and gmceful tenant of his haunts, but, baited to death by his cruel pursuers, " the Stag in the Torrent " will have yielded up the life for which he ran so fleetly and fought so fiercely, among the cataracts into Avhich he plunged for refuge. Stag-hunting has always been a royal and aristocratic I'ocreation, and when, it is pursued for the legitimate pur[)ose of supplying tlie table with the flesh of those creatures who were given to man for his food, we am but regret that it involves so much animal suffering. When, however, the pursuit of the stag, and the exciting nature of the sport, are the only incentives to the chase, we cannot but feel tlia^ the huntsman is abusing the privileges whicli. were intrusted to him for far different purposes. These noble animals were certainly not endowed with those exquisite sensibilities, which Landseer ■with his magic touch can represent so faithfully and pathetically in the expression of their faces, that they might be made the -victims of our caprice and cruelty. If the jwet has the approbation of all men of heart, reflection, and refinement, when he declares — ~ **I would not enter on my list of friends — Tiiough graced with polished mannerig and flue sense--- Tlie man who needlessly sets foot upon a worm," what sentence mUst We pd^s iipon those who can place their liighest enjoyment in inflicting' ui:iOil creatures so much higher in the sentient scale, and so beautifully formed by nature for the adornment of the mid scenes which they inhabit, tJie lingering tortures which at last closed the life of "the Stag in the Torrent " ? Of all the sinful propensities of man's fallen nature there is not one ** Which sooner springs into luxuriant growth, Than cruelty —most deviUsh of them all 'i " The chaise of the stag has not even the excuse of that favourite but qileBtionable sport, fox-hunting ; bince foxes vermin, mischievous in their habits, and destructive of life and property. We have. SIR EDWIN LANDSEEP, 89 tliereforo, authority for exterminating them — " a necessary act incurs no l)lame but the sjrmmetry of form, the gracefulness of action, and tlie interesting liabits of tlie red-deer, when allowed to expatiate in their own wild and romantic glens, plead powerfully in their fiivour, and give to the wanton caprice which inflicts upon them such acute and protracted suffering, a most odious criminality, Landseer, in exhibiting this noble creature in so niany characteristic scenes, has awakened the interest of all who are not inoculated with a sportsman's indifference to animal suffering, in favour of the stag, There are many other favourite pictvires by this renowned artist, which we should feel a })leasure in describing if we had space sufficient^ — such as " Bolton Abbey in the Olden Time," with the engraving of which every one is familiar who has ever glanced at the display in the windows of our principal printsellers ; or " The Pets," which represents a familiar and pleasing picture of beauty and innocence. The little maid, with that love of animals which is one of the characteristics of childhood, is feeding, out of her own hand, a shy but frisking fawn, which, although tame and docile before hei^, would fly like the wind at the approach of any unknown footstep. A kitten is playing with the riband which dangles from the neck of the fav/n, and thus gives a tout erisemhle of primitive innocence to the scene which it would be impossible to heighten or improve. Buskin, in that portion of his "Modern Painters" which he styles "The True Ideal," under the head " Grotesque," gives a striking instance of how a man with such a natural genius for animal painting as Landseer possesses, would, by the sheer power of inspiration, surpass in execution all that mere routine could suggest. The subject under discussion is the truthfulness of the mediaeval and the classical griffin. They are both pieces of existing sculpture : the first, viz., the medieeval, carries on his back one of the main pillars of the porch of the cathedral of Verona; and the other is on the frieze of the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina at Kome. The first is Lombard- Gothic, and the second is Eoman-classical architecture. " The difference is," says Puskin, " that the Lombard workman did really see a griffin in his imagination, and carved it from life, meaning to declare to all ages that ho had verily seen with his immortal eyes such a griffin as that ; but the classical workman never saw such a gTiffin at all, or anything else, but put the whole thing together by line and rule." This striking position he proves in the following manner : — " You know," says he, " that a griffin is a beast composed of lion and eagle. The classical workman set himself to fit these together in the most ornamental way possible. He accordingly carves a sufficiently satisfactory lion's body; then attaches, very gracefully cut wings to the sides; then, because he cannot get the eagle's head on the broad lion's shoulders, fits the two together by something like a horse's neck (some griffins being wholly composed of horse and eagle); then, finding the horse's neck look weak and unformidable, he strengthens it by a series of bosses like vertebrae in front, and by a series of spiny cusps like mane on the ridge ; next, not to lose the whole leonine character about the neck, he gives a remnant of the lion's beard turned into a sort of griffin's whisker, and nicely curled and pointed ; then an eye probably meant to look grand and abstracted, and therefore, neither lion's nor eagle's; and finally an eagle's beak, very sufficiently studied from a real one. The whole head, it seems to him, somewhat wanting in weight and power, he brings forward the right wing behind it, so as to inclose it with a broad line. This is the finest thing in,tlie composition, and very masterly both in thought and in choice of the exactly right point where the lines of wing and beak should intersect (and it may be noticed, in passing, that all men who can com- pose at all have this habit of encompassing or governing broken lines with broad ones wherever it is possible, of which we shall see many instances hereafter). The whole griffin, thus gracefully composed, being, nevertheless, when all is done, a very composed griffin, is set to very quiet work; and raising his left foot to balance his right wing, sets it on the tendril of a flower so lightly as not even to bend it down, though, in order to reach it, his left leg is made half as long again as his right." Now, let us see how the Lombardic sculptor, with a genius for designing animals with all their characteristics similar to that of our own Landseer, fashioned his griffin. We must remember that the griffin, though part lion and part eagle, has the united poive^^s of both. He is not merely a bit of lion and a bit of eagle, but whole lion incorporate with whole eagle. " Accordingly," says Puskin, " we see that the real or Lombardic griffin has the carnivorous teeth bare to the root, and the peculiar hanging of the jaw at the back, which marks the flexible and gaping mouth of the devouring tribes." 'k " While his feet are heavy enough to strike like a lion's, he has them also extended far enough to give i JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. ilitinithe eagle's grip with the back claw; and has, moreover, some of the bird-like wrinkled skin over the whole foot, marking this binding power the more, and that he has verily got something to hold with his feet, other than a flower. He is, primarily with his eagle nature, vnde awake; evidently quite ready for whatever may happen ; and with his lion's nature, laid all his length on his belly, prone and ponderous ; his two paws as simply put out before him as a drowsy puppy's on a drawing-room hearth- rag ; not but that he has something to do with them worthy of such paws, but he takes not one whit - more trouble about it than is absolutely necessary. He has merely got a poisonous winged dragon to hold, and for siich a little matter as that, he may as well do it lying down and at his ease, looking out at the same time for any other piece of work in his way. He takes the dragon by the middle, one paw under the wing and another above, gathers him up into a knot, puts two or three of his claws well into his back, crashing through the scales of it, and wrinkling all the flesh up from the wound, flattens him down against the ground, and so lets him do what he likes," JOHNT CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITIONS 41 By the light of a geuiu« similar to that which inspired Landseer in his "High Life" and "Low Life," the Lombardic workman saw the beast in his own imagination — " saw him," says Ruskin, " as plainly as you see the writing on this page, and of course could not be wrong in anything he told us of it." In the wings, which, being an eagle's wings, are made to fly fast ; in the throat, which, as the griflin is compounded of eagle and lion, must be flexible enough to allow of his swallowing rather large pieces at once ; in the ears, which are so placed as not to catch the wind, or give the ear-ache to the animal while flying ; every particular in the mediaeval eagle is right, because the Lombard sculptor followed, as Rnskin tells us, his imagination, which could not err. And it is with Landseer as it was with the Lombard. In everything lie conceives and executes THE WnOWKD LUCK. PROM A PAINTING BY SIR EDWIN LANDSEER, (By permission of Messrs. Graves.) he follows the directions of his own imagination, and thus he brings out of the canvas " the positive creature, errorless, unquestionable," such as we see hilU W Piguit^ Jmpudeuce/' " The Sanctuary," and " The Stag in the Torrent." ^'THE WIDOWED DUCK." The shot has told. There lies the wild drake stretched upon his back, his claws contracted, and his beak open, writhing in the agonies of death. The duck, startled by the sound of the gun, takes in at a glance, with the quick instinct of aflection, the whole melancholy event, and heaves fVom the Q 42 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. depth of licr bereaved bosom one of those plaintive notes which speak as forcibly as language could do her inconsolable grief Her attitude is most expressive ; the wings extended, not for flight, but with the electric power of the shock, and her form raised for a moment from its prone and awkward position into all the majesty of woe. Many birds are no doubt fickle in their sexual relations; but it is never- theless true that the instinct o-f mutual affection is sometimes strongly developed in them, so strongly, indeed, that the hen-bird has often pined to death after the loss of her mate. With birds, especially of the wild duck species, there is a difference among individuals similar to that wliich we remark among men. Some of them are more intelligent, more affectionate, more mindful of benefits conferred or injuries received than others. The wild duck, so graphically represented by Landseer in the painting from which our engraving is copied, is a proof that in attachment to its mate, ^ bird can feel as deeply as a dog, who has been considered by naturalists as the most susceptible of animals. "We have known many ducks, who, in tameness and discriminating perception of persons and things, were quite on a par with pets of the canine race. We recollect an instance of a duck who obeyed no voice but that of her owner, whom she followed everywhere, and for whom she would wait at the door when her mistress on a Sunday had entered the church, until a servant came to fetch lier home. J. E. MILLAIS, A.R.A, OHN EVERETT MILLAIS, whose cliefs-cVmuvre contributed to the Art Treasure., Exhibition we are now illustrating, was born in Portland Street, Southampton, on the 8th of June, 1829. His childhood was passed in France and the Channel Islands. J ersey was, we believe, the spot in which his passion for fine art first exliibited itself j "and battles, troopei's, desperate combats, and goi'geous but impossible knights" were the especial theme and delight of his pencil. His parents, who appreciated the promising genius of their son, took him to London, and, by Sir Martin Shee's advice, he entered the establishment of Mr. Sass (now kept by Mr. Carey, son of the translator of Dante), a school of art preparatory to the Royal Academy, in which the majority of our young artists receive their first rudiments. After a few months' instruction from Mr. Sass, Mr. Millais gained admission, at the early age of eleven, to the Antique School of the Royal Academy. In 1843, when only fourteen years of age, he gained the antique medal ; and four years afterwards the gold medal for the best oil picture, " The Bonjamites Seizing their Wives." In the same year he contributed to the exhibition of the Royal Academy "Elgiva Branded and at Westminster Hall, "The Widow's Mite." At the exhibition of 1848, Mr. Millais was not a contributor, and in 1849 commenced that attempted revolution in the style of painting known by the name of the pre-Raphaelite movement. Mr. Millais, in conjunction with W. Holman Hunt and Dante G. Rosetti, like another triumvirate, conspired against the whole system which in French is called the ^^Renaissance,'' and in English means the changes introduced by Raphael and his followers. They really believed, or feigned to believe, tliat in representing things as they appear and not as they are, the artist was guilty of a dereliction of high art principle, and that the Raphael or " Renaissance " school had carried the reform which their master introduced to such an extent as to render them careless of truth. Ruskin, who is the zealous and powerful advocate of the pre-Raphaelite school, in his " Modern Painters," under the article " Landscape," remarks " all the Renaissance (i.e. Raphaelite) principles of art tended to the setting beauty above truth, and seeking for it always at the expense of truth. And the proper punishment of such pursuit — the punishment which all the lav/s of the universe rendered inevitable — was that those who thus pursued beauty should wholly lose sight of beauty. All the thinkers of the as^e declared that it did not exist. The asre seconded their efforts, and banished JOHN EVERETT MILLAIS. 43 beauty, so far as human effort could succeed in doing so, from the face of the earth aud the form of man. To powder the hair, to patch the cheek, to hoop the body, to buckle the foot, were all part and parcel of the same system which reduced streets to brick walls and pictures to brown stains. One desert of ugliness was extended before the eyes of mankind, and their pursuit of the beautiful, so reck- lessly continued, received unexpected consummation in high-heeled shoes and periwigs — Gower Street and Caspar Poussin." The school, of which Millais may be said to be the master, was the reaction in painting from the state which Ruskin has so graphically and humorously described. In his scene from "I^eats' Isa- bella " he broke loose, with extraordinary skill and no small amount of artistic genius and originality, from the fetters of routine, and repudiated all the tp'anny of conventionalism. The public, taken completely by surprise, scarcely knew whether to praise or condemn. The boldness, however, and decision with which the " anti-i?maw«we," or pre-Raphaelite, disciples asserted the truth of their principles, carried with it considerable weight, for the world is always ready to be convinced by those who prove that they are in earnest j and though the success of the school still trembles in the balance, all admit that the movement has effected a beneficial reform among artists, who were becoming every year more and more careless in the working up of theii- productions. In 1850 Mr. Millais produced, in the same style, "Ferdinand and Ariel," "a portrait composition," and "a symbolic incident in connection with the Holy Family." This last was so entirely a pre-Raphaelite conception, and so radically at variance with all the principles of the " Jienaissance" that it provoked severe criticism. "THE PROSCRIBED ROYALIST." The painting from which this beautiful engraving is copied represents a scene in the time of the Commonwealth. The Royalist, whose head is peeping from the hollow of the gnarled and knotty oak, is one of that aristocratic band who, with an entire devotion for, and loyalty to, the monarch in whose divine right they thoroughly believed, were willing to sacrifice, in the cause of kings, rank, fortune, family, home, hearth, and cvqii life itself. Hunted by men and dogs, with a jDrice set upon their heads, concealing themselves by day in the holes and hiding-places of their own forfeited estates, and at night wandering through the ruined, dismantled, and desolate castles or halls in which they had so often feasted the very men who were now pursuing them like fleshed hounds eager for their blood, they retained of all they once possessed nothing but their birth and breeding. The maiden, whose bountiful hand the fugitive cavalier is saluting with so much gallantry and affection, though now meanly clad, and without any of the outward appendages of her station, has in her air and gait a certain stamp of nobility which no one can mistake, and none could counterfeit. Her visit to the hollow trunk of the tree, though made stealthily, and evidently fraught with danger both to herself and the young cavalier, to whom she seems like an angel of comfort, compensates, in his estimation, for all the dangers and miseries he has endured. Niu'sed in the lap ctf luxury, the object of a thousand anxious cares and eager hopes, accustomed to the watchful attention of obsequious menials, who gathered their tone and bearing from the expression of their master's eye, and whose whole duty in life was to anticipate his every want, and gratify his every wish — he is now dependent upon chance for the very necessaries of life. Crushing as is the change, and painful as are his privations, he has intervals of enjoyment, few and far between, but so exquisite and new to him that he would not barter them for the restoration of all that he has lost. One of these moments of happiness Millais has immortalised in the scene before us. There is in the eye of the maiden an anxious expression as she glances from the tree which incloses in its worn and aged bosom all that she most cherishes on earth, down the avenue through which she has stolen to this dangerous rendezvous. The country far and near is in possession of Cromwell's emissaries. The home of her fathers is occupied by bands of armed troopers, ever on the watch for the fugitive proprietors of the confiscated estates. Even the park itself, in which the meeting takes place, has probably spies at every turn, and roundhead detectives in every thicket, who at this very moment may have discovered the lurking-place of the wanderer, and be ready to denounce both him and his ministering spirit. But love scoffs at daiigcr, and never calculates consequences. Amour , amour y quand tu nous tiens, adieu la prudence,'' or, Auglice — Oh love, when wc foolishly listen to you, To prudence wc bid an eternal adieu." THE PROSCRIBED ROYALIST. FROM A PAIKTlNGt BY J. E. MILLAIS, A.R.A. THE ORPEK OP RELEASE. FROM A PAIKIINQ BY J, E, MILLAIS, A.R.A. 46 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. The cheeks of the young cavalier are so hollow and worn mtli fasting and vigil, that his eyes appear almost supernatural in size. They arej nevertheless, lighted with an expression of hope and joy as he salutes the lovely hand that brings him, in fear and trembling, the coarse but welcome food that love has provided for him. In the working up of this interesting pictui*e, the pfe-Kaphaelite attention to minute detail Is peculiai4y pleasing and effective. Evei*y leaf, every twig, every blade of grass, every line, crevice, or exci-escence of t)ie bark of the old tree, is designed with an exactitude and truthfulness highly creditable to the industry and talent of the ai'tist. It is possible that, in following out the principle of the school to which he belongs, Mr. Millais may even in this picture have described things rather as they arc than as they appear ; but the perspective of the piece is eo limited, and the conception of the scene is so striking, comprehensive, and perfect, that we see otily the improvements effected by the pre-Kaphaciite cmfe-renaissance, without any of its startling incongruities. The antici- pation of such another visit will cheer the lonely and fugitive wanderer through the long hours of solitude and privation ; and though he would not perhaps exclaim with oil© poet-^ ' * Oil that tlie desert were my ctwelling-plade I With some fair spirit for my minister ; That I miglit all forget the human racBj And, hating no one, love but only her." He may, perhaps, feel with another, whose muse had a more Christian inspiration — * * The wildfoAvl is gone to her nest, And the beast has laid down in his lair j Even here is a season for rest, And I to my cavern repair. " There is mercy in every place j And mercy, encouraging thought. Can give to affliction a grace. And reconolle Man to liis lot»" <'THE ORDER OP REILMSE." This touching scene describes a romantic incident of the time of the celebrated insurrection of '45. A formidable resistance to the supremacy of the House of Hanover had, as our readers are aware, been organised in Scotland, under the Chevalier de St. George, with his army of wild and insubordinate Highlanders, who, although through their cliiefs they acknowledged kim as their liege lord and sovereign, would, at the nod or beck of those chiefs, whom they in reality alone looked upon as their masters, have as willingly turned their weapon against Charles Edward himself as against the reigning monarch whom they were in arms to dethrone. Walter Scott, in his " Waverley, or 'Tis Sixty Years Since," has in his own graphic style recorded many an incident in the rebellion of '40 similar to that which Millais has immortalised by liis pencil. The captive soldier is a Highlander, probably taken prisoner after the bloody defeat of Culloden, by the troops of that Cumberland whom the Scotch of the time, on account of the exterminating nature of the warfare he carried on, ^velx) Avont to designate as the " Butcher Duke." The Avife of this victim of his cliief's ambition, or mistaken loyality, is painted to the life. She is a true Scotchwoman in her attitude, features, and figure. But although there is nothing foreign in her appearance, the lines of her head and form are as fine as those of a pre-Baphaelite Madonna. The position of the child, sleep- ing in entire unconsciousness of the important nature of the visit its mother is now paying to her incar- cerated husband, is perfect. The great attraction of this picture, however, is the mingled expression of triumph and tenderness in the face of the woman— the triumph with which she presents to the old soldier, who acts as gaoler, the order of release, for which she has no doubt toiled, wept, and prayed, fasting and faint at the great man's door, and tlie tenderness of her attitude in supporting her husband overcome mth emotion. Her naked feet show liow ill provided she has been for a journey so far souths 111 which the all-prevailing power of woman's love, faith, and endurance could have alone sustained her. The prospect of procuring the release of her husband smoothed the dangers and JOHN EVERETT MILLAIS. 47 compensated for the privations of licr weary journey; and, with this goal in view, she was jorepared to risk all, brave all, endure all. The featui-es of the husband himself are partly concealed to give full effect to the figure and flice of the wife. The eagerness of the dog to lick the hand of the liberated Highlander is admirably conceived. He knows nothing of all tjie agony and self-sacrifice through which that release lias been purchased, but he is quite alive to the pleasure of recovering his long- lost master, AUTUMN LEAVES." "Autumn Leaves," painted last year, and contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibition by J. Miller, Esq., is perhaps one of the greatest triumphs hitherto achieved by any disciple of the pre-Raphaelite school. In the faces of the young girls — who are themselves spring-flowers of human growth in the May-day of lif*^ — there is a variety of expression, and a winning softness, grace, and simplicity, which would alone establish Mr. Millais's reputation as an artist of first-rate genius. Every leaf — every petal of the floral display which Nature, in her autumnal liberality, has so variously sup- plied, is defined with the minuteness which characterises all our artist's later productions. Three of these fair specimens of the gentler sex are " Like the sweet moon on the horizon's verge, Young maidens on the eve of womanhood." " The girl has fewer summers." Their whole attention is riveted upon the dahlias and myrtles which they are stowing away in their capacious basket ; she^ with a rosy-cheeked apple in her hand — the ripe produce of the fruitful season — has one eye for the flowers and another for the fruit, which appeals more directly to the predilections of her time of life. Any one imacquainted with the peculiarities of this style, would be startled by the sliar^) and abrupt outline of the poplars in the distance. The whole of this landscape exhibits what Euskin (the pre-Rapliaelite advocate) calls the wholesome, happy, a.nd noble — though not noblest — art of simple transcript from nature, into wliich, he adds, '-'so far as our modern pre-Rapliaelitism falls, it will indeed do sacred service in ridding us of the old fallacies and componencies, but cannot itself rise above the level of simple and happy usefulness. So far as it is, to be great it must add — and so far as it is great, has already added — the great imaginative element to all its faithfulness in transcript ; and for this reason, pre-Raphaelitism, as long as it confined itself to the simple co]3ying of nature, could not take the character of the highest class of art. But it has already almost unconsciously supplied the defect, and taken that character in all its best results ', and so far as it ought hereafter, it will assuredly do so, so soon as it is permitted to maintain itself in any other position than that of stern antagonism to the composition teachers around it. I say, 'so far as it ought because, as already noticed in that same place, we have enough, and to spare, of noble, inventful pictures. So many have we, that we let them moulder away on the walls and roofs of Italy, without one regretful thought about them. But, of simple transcripts from nature, till now, we have had none, — even Yan Eyck and Albert Durer having been strongly filled with the spirit of grotesque idealism ; so that the pre-Baphaelites have to the letter fulfilled Steele's description of the author who determined to write in an entirely new manner, and describe things exactly as they took place.'' The landscape in this picture by Mr. Millais certainly answers Mr. Buskin's quaint definition of pre-Baphaelitism ; it is designed in an entirely new manner, and things are described exactly as they are, and not as they seem. We are no converts to the principles these innovators have endeavoured to establish, for if they are right, the mathematical demonstrations which prove the theoiy of optics, of which perspective forms part, must be wrong. Pre-Baphaelitism is, therefore, in antagonism with mathematical truth, and must, in principle, be false. But though we reject their arguments as untenable, we acknowledge the beneficial effect which their attention to minute detail has had upon the painters of the present day. Conventionalism would have made of all these exquisitely designed specimens of autumn flowers nothing but "brown stains;" and it is on this account that the pre- Baphaelite advocate declares that the title of " dark ages given to the mediccval centuries is, respecting art, wholly inapplicable. They were," says he, " on the contrary, the bright ages, ours are the dark ones — I do not mean metaphysically, but literally. They were the ages of gohl, ours are the ages of JOHN CASSELL'S ART TRRARURE^! EXHIBITION'. AUIOMN LEAVES. FliOM A PAINIINa BY J. E. MILI4AIS, A.R.A., CONTrvlBUTED BY J, MILLER, ESQ, JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITIOI^. 49 umber." " Autumn Leaves " is a grand piece of sombre colour. It is unexceptionable in tlie limpid serenity of its horizon and the purple grandeur of its evening hills ; but the green of the grass and the red in the foreground of the figures would, under such an aspect of the sky, be impossible. The pre-Eaphaelites have, we must confess, effected a considerable improvement in the general style and working up of our renaissance artists. We are no admirers of the school : we never saw much beauty in those pre-Kaphaelite productions, " The Battle of Spurs," or " The Coronation of SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS IN HIS ROBES AS POCTOR OP CIVIL LAW. FROM A PAINTING BY HIMSELF. (ContribiitQd to the Art Treasures JExhibUion ly the Royal Academy.) James lY. of Scotland ;" nor can we approve of tlie principle of representing things as they really arc, and not as they appear. Still, much as the revival of an obsolete style of painting and drawing astonished the world some few years ago, there is no doubt that a closer attention to the minor parts of a picture greatly enhances the effect of the whole. John Everett Millais, from whose beautiful designs our engravings are copied, is perhaps the most attractive and most genuine artist of the pre-Kaphaelite echooL He is an enthusiast 7 50 JOHN CASSELL'S AllT TREASURES EXHIBITION. in the cause lie advocates ; and, like all wlio are really possessed of genius, he promotes, with the energy and vigour of his enterprising mind, the success of his idee fixe. In these engravings all the etioct of attention to minute particulars is seen, and we have an excellent illustration of the beauties, without the drawbacks of the style. JSTot so with the pieces he has this year contributed to the Exhibition of the Royal Academy. They, on the contrary, contain, with few of the advantages, almost ail the defects of that curious ante-renaisscmce of which we may consider Mr. Millais the chief. The first is a dream of the past, " Sir Ysambras at the Ford." The metrical romance of " Sjr Ysanibras" is evidently a poem of pre-Raphaelite production, and the same may be said of the painting, v/hich, though finished with a care and attention to small things, which must have involved an incalculable amount of industry, is, nevertheless, not pleasing as a tout ensemble. E/Uskin, in his elaborate criticism upon this curious production, says : — " There may still be in Millais the power of reponbanco; but I cannot tell. For those who have never known the right way, its narrow wicket gate stands always on the latch; but for him who, having knowm it, has wandered thus insolently, the by-ways to the prison-house are shut, and the voices of recall are few. I have not patience much to examine into the meaning of the picture under consideration. If it has one, it should nob have been disguised by the legend associated with it, which, by the way, does not exist in the romance from which it professes to be quoted, and is now pretty generally understood to be only a clever mystification by one of the artist's friends, written chiefly with the view of guarding the awlovard horse against criticism. I am not sure whether the bitterest enemies of pre-Raphaelitism have yet accused it of expecting to cover its errors by describing them in bad English. Putting the legend, however, out of the question, the fancy of the picture is pretty — and might have been sublime, but that it is too ill-painted to be dwelt upon. The primal error in pictorial grammar, of painting figures in twilight as bright as yellow and vermiilion can make them, while the towers and hills far above, and far more exposed to light, are yet dark and blue, could hardly have been redeemed by any subsequent harmonies of tone, much less by any random brilliancy ; and the mistake of painting the water brighter than the sky which it reflects, though constant among inferior painters in subordinate parts of their work, is a singularly disgraceful one for a painter of standing. It does not matter whether we take it as a fact or a type; whether we look verily upon an old knight riding home in the summer twilight, with the dust of his weary day's journey on his golden armour, taking the w"oodman's children across the river with him, &c. &c. ; or whether it may bear a deeper meaning than all this. It might be an image less of life than of the great Christian angel of death, who gives the eternal nobleness to small and great, and clasps the mean and mighty with his golden armour — Death bearing the two children wdtli him acit)ss the calm river, whither they know not, one questioning the strange blue eyes which slie sees fixed on heaven, the other only resting from his labour, and feeling no more his burden — all this, and more than this — had the idea but been realised with any steadiness of purpose or veracity of detail. As it stands, it can only be considered as a rough sketch of a great subject, injudiciously exposed to general criticism, and needing both modi- fication in its arrangement and devoted labour in its future realisation." It is, however, lucky for the pre-Haphaelites that all ai-e not of the same opinion, for Mr. Agnew, a millionaire patron of the fine arts, and a great admirer of the productions of this school, without even seeing the picture, despatched an order by electric telegraph from Manchester to purchase it (upon hearsay only) for a thousand guineas, before it had been exhibited to the joublic. Mr. Millais has another painting in the present Exhibition of far greater pretensions. We mean "The Escape of the Heretic, 1559." This picture has elicited from Ruskin a criticism even more severe, and which proves that, however much he may love his friend, like Aristotle, " he loves truth more." " The conception of his second picture is an example," says Ruskin, " of the darkest error in judgment — the fatalest fiiilure in the instinct of the painter's mind. At once coarse and ghastly in fancy, exaggerated and obscure in action, the Avork seems to have been wrought with the resolute purpose of confirming all that the bitterest adversaries of the school have delighted to allege against it; and whatever friendship has murmured, or enmity proclaimed, of its wilful preference of ugliness to beauty, is now sealed into everlasting acceptance. * For Mr. Millais there is no hope but in a return to perfect quietness. A time is probably fixed in every man's career, when his own choice determines the relation of his endowments with his destiny; and the time has come when this Sm JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 51 I)ainter must choose, and choose finally, whether the eminence he cannot abdicate is to make him conspicuous in honour or in ruin." The piece is from the following historical account of the escape of a lieretic from "Valladolid : — "This Friday before Good Friday, a.d. 158^, before the licentiate Crestoval Bodriquez, Commissary of the Holy Inquisition, appears Fray (brother) Juan Romero, monk of the order of St. Dominic, in the Convent of the said order in this said city, famijiar of the said Holy Inquisition ; and having sworn to speak the truth, saith, ' That having assigned, together with Fray Diego Muno, familiar of the said Holy Inquisition, as confessor to Maria J nana di Acuna y Yillapos, late in close prison of the Holy Inquisition, convict as an obstinate heretic, and left to be delivered to the secular arm_ at the act of faith appointed to bo held in this said city, before his most Catholic Majesty our Lord the King this da,y, he was yesterday at noon in the prison of the said prisoner, together vv^ith a person unknown, whom he supposed to be said Fray Diego, but saw not his face by reason of his wearing his hood drawn forward, when he v/as of a sudden set upon, gagged, and bound by tlie said person unknown, and his habit stripped off and put upon the said prisoner, who so passed out from the said prison with the said person unknown, nor hath since been discovered by the deponent or the other familiars of the said Holy Inquisition in the said city." — From Documentos Kelativos a los Processos par la Liqidsicion de Valladolid. "The Escape of the Heretic," as represented by the pre-E/aphaelite painter from this description, reminds us forcibly of the ^tory of the escape of Lord Nithsdale from the Tower in the habiliments of his wife. Sm JOSHUA REYNOLDS OSHTJA HEYNOLDS, the most popular portrait painter that this country has, perhaps, hitherto produced, was the son of the Rev. Samuel Reynolds and Theophila his wife. He was born on th'e 1 6th of July, 1723, at Plympton in Devonshire, three months before the death of his great predecessor. Sir Godfrey Kneller. His father, who was the head of the public school of Plympton, from which he derived an income scarcely adequate for the wants of a family consisting at one time of twelve children, gave to Joshua, who was the tenth in rotation, this singular Christian appellation in the hope that it might induce some wealthy individual of the same name to make him his heir. From " Richardson's Treatise on Painting," Joshua, who early showed a greater pre- dilection to make private drawings than public exercises in his father's school, drew his first rudiments of art. Reynolds ^^ere was a man of too much indolence or want of resolution to check effectually the idle habits of his son, who was, thex^efore, allowed to cultivate his taste for drawing at the expense of his classical improvement. " Jacob Catt's Book of Emblems," which his great-grandmother, by his fatlier's side, had brought with her from Holland, furnished plenty of exei'cise for his genius for copying. The prints in '^Plutarch's Livesy published by Dryden, also engaged his attention, but com- pared with the Emblems, he considered them rude and uncouth. Of his boyish i)roductions no specimen is, w^ believe, now in existerfce ; but that they were very promising is proved fi'om the fact of his pursuing the bent of his oVn incMn'ation, with the full approbation of his father, to the entire neglect of hi.s classics and mathematics. In the month of October, 17.41, Joshua, already in the nineteenth year of his age, was sent to London by the advice of a neighbour of the name of Cranch, and placed under the care of Mr. Hudson, the most distinguished portrait pointer of the day. He commenced his studies with his new master on the festival of St. Luke, the patron, saint of painters ; but Hudson, though he had gained some reputation as a manufacturer of portraits, had, in reality, little skill as an artist, and the knowledge which Reynolds acquired of drawing during the two years he continued in Hudson's employment was, on this account, vcL-y small. In 1743 he returned home, and for three years continued to work at THE SCHOOLIOT. FKOM A PAINTING BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. ( Contributed to the Art Treasures_ExhiUtion hy the Earl oj Watmk SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 53 painting without any instruction save the light of his own genius. He afterwards regretted this loss of time, but remarked, that but for his quarrel with Hudson, he should never have escaped from tameness and insipidity — from fair tied wigs, blue velvet coats, and white satin waistcoats, which Hudson bestowed on all customers alike. At the age of two-and-twenty Reynolds hired a house at the town of Plymouth Dock, and took his two youngest unmarried sisters to live with him. He here set up as a portrait painter, but the vicious style in which he had been instructed by Hudson still characterised liis ])r<)ductions, and on one occasion, when a gentleman wished to be distinguished from others by having his hat painted on his head, such was the power of conventionalism in Rev^iolds, that he is said to have painted one hat on the gentleman's head and anothei- under his arm. But although educated in the school, he was not a slave to its absurdities ; and, in a portrait of liimself execute{l about this time, which represents him 54 JOHN OASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. with pencils and palette in liis left hand, and shading the light from hi.s eyes with his right, there is considerahlc freedom and merit. In the year 1746, he lost liis father, and Joshua, who was now twenty-three years of age, and celebrated in the connty as a portrait painter of promise, longed for a more extended field for the develo])ment of liis talents. He, therefore, paid a second visit to London, and established himself for a time in St. Martin' s-lane, which was the favourite resort of the artists of the time. In the month of May, 1749, Captain Keppel, afterwards Lord Keppel, who had conceived a warm friendship for the young artist, set out as Commodore for the Mediterranean station with the object of protecting the British mercliants from tlie insults of the Algerines, and invited Reynolds to accompany him. After touching at Lisbon, lie visited Gibraltar, Algiers, and Minorca, where, through the influence of Keppel and General Blakeney, he was employed to paint the portraits of almost all the officers in the garrison at Port Mahon ; in Minorca his face was so severely cut by a fall from his horse, that he carried a disfiguring scar with him to the grave. From Minorca he sailed to Leghorn, and immediately proceeded to Rome. The effect produced on his mind by the sight of the chefs-cVaeuvre which had immortalised the masters who produced them, v/ill be best understood by quoting his own remai-k. " I found myself," says he, " in the midst of works executed upon principles with vfhich I was unacquainted : I felt my ignorance, and stood abashed. ... It was necessary, as it is expressed on a very solemn occasion, that I should become as a little child'' He stayed, however, at Rome until his judgment was matured, and he had learned to contemplate the productions of Raphael and Michael Angelo with an enthusiasm bordering on devotion. But although he employed his time at Rome in studying every variety of excellence and in acquiring a knowledge of effect with which he was soon to astonish his countrymen, there were in the productions of Angelo .and Raphael a dignity and sublimity which, hovv^ever much Reynolds might study and admire them, he could never hope to imitate. Ho did little in the way of original production while at Rome, There is, indeed, a noble portrait of himself painted during his stay in the Eternal City, and also a kind of parody on Raphael's " School of Athens," into which was introduced thirty likenesses of English students and traveller's then resident at Rome. From Rome, Reynolds went to Bologna and Genoa, but the records he has left of his stay in these Italian tovms have been of little value to artistic students. From Genoa he travelled to Parma, and thence to Florence, v/liere he remained about two months, observing much but writing little. He next visited Venice, v/here he added considerably to his previous knowledge of the combina- tion of colours. But while he was studying the old masters in the City of the Adriatic, he hapjiened one night to hear a popular English air sung by an opera company, and the effect upon his imagination was so great, that he actually shed tears, and at once determined on returning to England. He arrived in London some time in October, 1752, and, after a short visit to his native county, established himself as a professional artist in St. Martin' s-lane, London. The freedom of his style and the brilliancy of his colouring excited at first the most violent opposition among the old-fashioned portrait painters of the time, and he thus speaks of the artists with whom he had to contend at the commencement of his career: — "They have got a set of pictures which they apply to all persons indis- criminately ; the consequence of which is that all their pictures look like so many sign-post paintings, and if tliey have a history or a family piece to paint, the first thing they do is to look over tlieir commonplace-book, containing sketches which they have stolen from various pictures ; then they search their prints over, and pilfer one figure from one print, and another from a second, but never take the trouble of thinking for themselves." Genius, however, must in the end prevail over routine^ and although he had much prejudice and more jealousy to contend with, he at length succeeded in displacing the sign-post productions of his soi- disant orthodox rivals. ''The force and felicity of his portraits," says ISTorthcote, "not only drew around him the opulence and beauty of the nation, but happily gained him the merited honour of per- petuating the features of all the eminent and distinguished men of learning then living. In 1754 he had the good fortune to become acquainted with Samuel Johnson, whose lasting friendship he afterwards secured. They were, however, a complete contrast in ever3d:hing, and were only united in friendship by the electric power of genius. Johnson, rough and saturnine, had little else in common with Reynolds, who was soft, graceful, and flexible. The price which he at first received for a head was only five guineas ; the rate, however, increased with his fame, and in the year SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 55 1755 his cliarge was twelve. His reputation and popularity soon enabled him to advance considerably u])on. this Slim, and in the year 1758, which was perhaps the most lucrative of his professional career, we find him casually remarking that idle loungers, of whom he had a great and legitimate horror, did not consider that his time was worth five guineas an hour. From this calculation we may gather that it was his practice to paint a portrait in four hours, for we do not find that he had as yet raised his price beyond twenty guineas a head. In the year 1760 a scheme was carried into exociriion, of which we see the fuil-bloAvn results in the yearly exhibition of tlie British artists. Johnson thus alludes to this undertaking in a letter to Baretti : — " The artists have established a yearly exhibition of pictures and statues, in imitation, I am told, of foreign academies. This year was the second exhi- bition. They please themselves much with the multitude of spectators, and imagine that the English school will rise in reputation. Peynolds is without a rival, and continues to add thousands to thou- sands, which he deserves, among other excellencies, by retaining his kindness for Baretti. This exhi- bition has filled the heads of the artists and of the lovers of art. Surely life, if it be not long, is tedious, since we are forced to call in the assistance of so many trifles to rid us of our time — of that time which can never return." The doctor, however, notwithstanding the sarcastic terms in which he glances at the exhibition, condescended to write an introduction to the catalogue, in which a fea- ture, thoroughly Johnsonian in its diapason, occurs. " The purpose of this exhibition is not to enrich the artist, but to advance the art. The eminent are not flattered with preference, nor tlie obscure insulted with contempt ; whoever hopes to deserve public favour is here invited to display his merit." In 1761, Eeynolds, "Whose chariot rolled on Fortune's wheel," purchased a fine house in Leicester-square, furnished it with much taste, and added a splendid gallery for the exliibition of his pictures. The most curious addition, however, which he made to the arrange- ments of his domestic economy consisted in a carriage, of which the wheels were carved and gilt, and which bore on its panels illustrations of the four seasons of the year. About this time he painted his celebrated picture of " Garrick, between Tragedy and Comedy." The execution is deserving of all praise, but the conception is absurd. Shadow and substance cannot enter into conversation : the real and the imaginary can have no actual communion. In the year 1768, the Royal Academy, such as it now exists, was planned and proposed by Chambers, West, Coles, and Moser ; Reynolds keeping aloof, 'either from timidity or caution. West, however, called on Reynolds, and after a conference of two hours' continuance, succeeded in persuading him to join the thirty members of which it consisted. Accompanied by West, he entered tlie room where his brother artists were assembled. They rose up, to a man, and saluted him as President. He was much afiected by this compliment from his professional brethren, but he declined to accept the honour until he had consulted with Johnson and Burke. These eminent friends advised him to yield, and he then consented. The engraving, taken from a painting by himself, contributed to the Art Treasures Exliibition by the Royal Academy, represents Sir Joshua in his robes as President of tlie Royal A cademy. "PORTRAIT OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS, P. R. A." In stature Sir Joshua Reynolds was rather below the middle size ; his complexion was florid, his features round and blunt, his aspect lively and intelligent, and his manners calm, simple, and un- assuming. His habits were active : application could not tire him, nor constant labour subdue him. He is represented by some as sordid and saving, and by others as generous, open-hearted, and humane. One of his servants, who survived him many years, described his late master as " prudent in the matter of pins — a saver of bits of thread — a man hard and parsimonious, who never thought he had enough of labour out of his dependants, and always suspected that he overpaid them." Servants and friends, no doubt, spoke of him. according to their own experience of the man. Poverty in early life had given him habits of economy, and he continued the same system of saving when he was master of sixty thousand pounds as when he owned but sixpence. ''THE SCHOOLBOY." The painting from which this engraving is copied is contributed to the Art Treasures Exliibition by the Earl of Warwick. It is in Sir Joshua Reynold's best style, and is exactly the subject upon 56 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. which he delighted to exercise his genius. His historical paintings have little of the heroic dignity which an inspired mind breathes into compositions of that class. His imagination often foils him, and he attempts to hide his want of wings in the unrivalled splendour of his colouring, and by the thick-strewn graces of his execution. But his single i^oetic figures are remarkable for their unaftected ease, their elegant simplicity, and the brilliancy of their colouring. Some scores of these subjects ho dashed off in the course of his life, and though they are chiefly portraits, they bear all the charm of the rOIlTRAIT OF JOHN HUNTER. Fr.OM A PAINTING! BY SIR JOillUA r.EYKOLDS. iii'tst successful imaginative conceptions. "The Schoolboy" is one of the happiest of his simple creations. Of children, indeed, he seems to have been remarkably fond ; nor can one doubt, from the reality with Avliich he invests these poetic conceptions, that he has rejoiced with them over their new finery, mourned with them over the difficulty of their task, and romped or ridden with them on the ])arlour broom. He was, we grieve to think, a worshipper of rank, and his children are all the scions of families of distinction ; but although we cannot but acknowledge that such a littleness was a stigma on a man of his merit, we must do homage to the genius which has gladdened us with the sight of so much innocence and beauty. '^TiGOLlNO." This engraving is from a picture painted by Sir Joshua in 1773. The subject is taken from the Inferno of the "Divina Commedia" of Dante, and was suggested to Reynolds by Goldsmith. The JOHN OASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. ^57 THE NATIVITY. IROM A PAINTING BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. merit lies chiefly in the execution, for the conception of the artist scarcely answers Dante's inspired description. Keynolds has represented the lofty and stern sufferer of the Italian poet rather as a famishing beggar than as a creature that looked, like; Satan, "little less than archangel ruined." He appears totally deficient in any intellectual superiority, and heartlessly regardless of his dying children, 8 53 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. wlio cluster around his knees. Nevertheless the artist has described with so much skill and faithM- ness this awful tragedy, that Captain Cook's Omiah imagined what he s:w was a real scene of distress, and ran to support the suffering child. The Duke of Dorset paid four hundred guineas for " XJgolino," wliich was considered, some eighty years ago, a large sum to give for the production of a living artist, ''PORTRAIT OF JOHN HUNTER." The portraits of Eeynolds are equally numerous and excellent, and those connoisseurs v^^ho have criticised their merits, have swelled the number of his votaries by comparing them with the simplicity of Titian, the vigOTir of Eembrandt, and the elegance and delicacy of Vandyke. In character, complexion, and manly ease, the painting from which our engraving is copied has never been surpassed. The boldness of the posture and the singular freedom of the colouring, are so supported • by all the grace of art, and by all the sorcery of skill, that they appear natural and noble. Eeynolds possessed, indeed, that peculiar art, in which Lawrence was also an adept, of preserving the resemblanc 3 to the original and of yet making his men all nobleness, his women all lovliness, and his children all simplicity. Over tlie meanest head he could throw a halo of dignity, and had the singular art of summoning the mind into the flice and making sentiment mingle in the portrait. Portrait painting is, in our own estimation, inferior to historical compositions ; but in the mind of many they rank #n an equality : and there can be no doubt that portraits which represent the form and soul of poets, statesmen, and warriors, and of all whose actions or v/hose thoughts lend lustre to the land, are to be received as illustrations of history. But with the generality of portraits form and history have nothing to do. The face of an undistinguished individual, however beautifully painted, is of no value in the eyes of posterity. The portrait of Johnson has risen to the value of five hundred guineas, Avhile that of many of Sir Joshua's grandest lords and ladies would scarcely fetch the original fifty. Among those which the present and all future ages will value on account of the merits of the individual, is that of John Hunter, from which our engraving is taken. The Eoyal Academy, of which we have just recorded the origin and purpose, was honoured in its infancy by having Samuel J ohnson for its Professor of Ancient Literature, and Goldsmith for its Professor of Ancient History. Both these offices are purely honorary ; but ennobled as they have been by the fame of the great men who have filled them, they are the objects of much competition. Hallam. and Macaulay now occupy the professorial chairs of Johnson and Goldsmith. The King, who did not hold with his grandfather, that " Bainters were no goot," added dignity to the institution of the Eoyal Academy by bestowing on the President the honour of knighthood, and Eeynolds, now Sir Joshua, received the congratulations of his friends upon the distinction he had so well merited. Burke, in one of his letters to Barry, says, " Eeynolds is at the head of ^this Academy. From liis known public spirit, and warm desire of raising up art among us, he will, I have no doubt, contrive this institution to be productive of all the advantages that could possibly be derived from it ; and whilst it is in such hands as his, we shall have nothing to fear from those shallows and quicksands upon which the Italian and French Academies have lost themselves." Eeynolds, v/ho had no intention of making the office, for which he was so well suited, a sinecure, impose^ upon himself the task of writing and delivering discourses for the instruction of students in the principles and practice of their art. Of these discourses he composed fifteen, wliich he delivered during the long course of his presidency. They are all remarkable for clearness of conception and variety of information. He was, however, no orator, and his mode of delivery was so defective, that a nobleman, who was present at his first lecture, said, "Sir Joshua, you read your discourse in a tone so low, that I scarce heard a word you said." " That was to my advantage," replied the President, with a smile. The follov/ing extract from a letter to Barry, written by Sir Joshua at the request of Burke, will give our readers some notion of the style of his lectures. "Whoever," writes Sir Joshua, "is resolved to excel in painting, or, indeed, in any other art, must bring all his mind to bear upon that one object, from the moment that he rises till he goes to bed. The effect of every object that meets a painter s eye may give him a lesson, pro^dded his mind is calm, unembarrassed wdth other objects, and open to instruction. This general attention, with other studies connected with the art, which must employ tlie artist in his closet, will be found sufficient to fill up life, if it Vv'-ere much longer than it is. Were SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 59 I ill your place, I would consider myself as playing a great game, and never suffer the little malice and envy of my rivals to draw off my attention from the main object, which if you pursue with a steady eye, it will not be in the power of all the cicerones in the world to hurt you. Whilst they are endeavouring to prevent the gentlemen from employing the young artists, instead of injuring them, they are, in my opinion, doing them the greatest service. Whoever has great views, I would recom- mend to him, whilst at Rome, rather to live on bread and water than lose advantages which he can never hope to enjoy a second time, and which he will find only in the Yatican, where I will engage no cavalier sends his students to copy for him. The Cajjella Sisfina is the production of the greatest genius that was ever employed in the arts : it is worth considering by what principles that stupendous greatness of style is produced ; and endeavouring to produce something of your own, on those principles, will be a more advantageous method of studying than copying the ' St. Cecilia' in the Borghese, or the 'Herodias' of Guido, which may be copied to eternity, without contributing a jot towards making a man a more able painter. If you neglect visiting the Yatican often, and particularly the Capella Sistma, you will neglect receiving that peculiar advantage which Rome can give above all other cities in the world. In other places you will find casts from the antique, and capital pictures of the great painters; but it is there only that you can form an idea of the dignity of the art as it is — there only that you can see the works of Michael Angelo and Raphael." However parsimonious Reynolds may have been by nature, and from early necessity, he was cer« tainly a man of convivial habits ; and his company, which was composed of some of the greatest wits and savam of the day, was always most hospitably received at his table. On one occasion Johnson, Burke, Grp.rrick, Douglas, and Goldsmith were his guests ; and the idea of composing a set of extem- pore epitaphs on one another was started. Goldsmith's lines show how much the painter was appre- ciated by the poet : — Here Reynolds is laid, and, to tell yon my mind, He has not left a wiser or better behind ; His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand ; His manners were gentle, complying, and bland ; Still bom to improve us in every pavt, His pencil our faces, his manners our heart." That the public endorsed the sentiments contained in this flattering eulogium of Goldsmith, is proved by the fact, that almost all the locien in the three kingdoms, who were distinguished in litera- ture, in art, at the bar, in the senate, or in the field, might occasionally be found feasting 8.t his social and well-furnished table. But how great soever may have been the eloquence and refinement of his manners, we cannot apply the same epithets to the arrangement of his establishment. Courteney tells us that his dinners were remarkable for " a coarse, inelegant plenty, without any regard to order or arrangement. A table prepared for seven or eight was often compelled to accommodate fifteen or sixteen. When this difficulty was got over, a deficiency of knives and forks, plates and glasses, suc- ceeded. The wine, cookery, and dishes were but little attended to ; nor was the fish or venison ever talked of, or recommended. Amidst this convivial, animated bustle among his guests, our host sat perfectly composed, always attentive to what, was said, never minding what was eat or drunk, but left eveiy one at perfect liberty to scra.mble for himself. Temporal and spiritual peers, physicians, lawyers, actors, and musicians, composed the motley group, and played their parts without disr-onance or discord. At five o'clock precisely dinner was served, whether all the invited guests were arrii ed or not. Sir J oshua wa,s never so fashionably ill-bred as to wait an hour perhaps for two or three per- sons of rank or title, and put the rest of the company out of humour by this invidious distinction." About the year 1772, Reynolds was in such request, that he raised the price of his portraits to tliirty-five guineas ; and had, notwithstanding, many more customers than he could accommodate. In the July of 1773, the honorary degree of Doctor of Civil Law was conferred upon him by the University of Oxford; and about the same time he Vv^as elected a member of the Royal, the Anti- quarian, and the Dillettanti Societies. At the clo«c of the same summer he visited his native town, and was chosen Mayor of .Plympton, — a distinction which he valued so much, that he declared to the King " that he preferred it to all the honours which had been heaped upon him, excepting that which your Majesty so graciously conferred on me — the honour of knighthood." Goldsmith died in 1774, and was sincerely regretted by Reynolds, whose grief prevented him GO JOHN CASSELL'3 ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. THE BEGGAR BOY. FROM A PAINTING BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. from touching a pencil for a whole day after the 2)oet's death. He contributed largely to the expense of tlie marble monument raised to the memory of Goldsmith, in Poet's-corner, Westminster. The inscription on the tomb is the composition of Johnson, The doctor, when questioned by Boswell on SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 61 the merit of Reynolds's portraits, replied in his customary caustic style, " Sir, their chief excellence is being like ; I would have them in the dress of their times, to preserve the accuracy of history : trutli, sir, is of the greatest value in these things." *'THE NATIVITY." We said that Sir Joshua, as an historical j)ainter, never acquired any great eminence. He is often defective where we might have expected him to show the highest excellence. His faces are formal and cold, and the piciuie seems a kind of hotch-})otch made up of borrowed fragments, which he had been THE S:iAKE IN THE GRASS. FROM A PAINTING BY SIR JOSnUA REYNOLDS. unable to work up into an entire and consistent whole. The painting of " Tlio Nativity," from which our engraving is co})ied, was, nevertheless, a work of great study, and by far the most elaljorate picture in this style which Eeynolds ever executed. His own conception of the subject is elevated and ennobled by the halo of celestial light which emanates from the infant Christ. This idea he borrow^ed from "The Night" of Corregio. " The Nativity " comprised in its composition thirteen figures, and was in its dimensions twelve feet by eighteen. It was designed to surmount the seven allegories. It was, however, cold, laboured, and uninspired. We speak of it in the past tense, because after it became the property of a late Duko 62 JOim CASSELL'S AUT TREASURES EXHIBITION. of Rutland, who gave 1,200 guineas for it, it waa burnt, with many other paintings of inestimable value, at Belvoir Castle. " T^HE BEGGAR BOY." This is another of those single poetic figures in which Reynolds's /or^e lay. Like " The Schoolboy;' it is evidently a portrait, and is in conception and execution one of the artist's most happy produc^ tions. There is a languor about the face which tells of pain, poverty, and privation, and a canting, hyi'>ocritical expression in the features which practice has made habitual. The bundle of matches which he offers for sale are of a size and form which are now only traditionary among us, for the use of lucifers is so universal that there is no household in England or elsewhere in which they have not replaced the flint and steel and the brimstone match, which was only ignited after so much puffing and blowing. The supplication in the attitude of the hands is peculiarly expressive, and, although the genius of the painter has invested the figure with more poetical interest than beggar boys generally inspire, thei-e is a reality about the whole piece which cannot fail to arrest the attention of the spectator. He was a close observer of nature, and drew his excellencies from various sources. He never despised the opinion of any one. From the most unlettered minds he sometimes obtained valuable hints, and babes and sucklings x^ere among his instructors. ^Ye are told that a beggar's infant was on one occasion his model for some picture. Overpowered by continuing so long in one 3osture it fell asleep and presented the image of one of the babes in the piece he was producing. No sooner had he sketched it on the canvas than the child turned in its sleep and presented the idea of the other babe, v/hich he instantly sketched, and from these two sketches afterv/ards made the finished picture. It was one of his maxims that the gestures of children, being all dictated by nature, are graceful, and that affectation and distortion come in with the dancing-master. " He watched the motion of the children," says his biographer, "who came to liis gallery, and was pleased when he saw them forget themselves, and mimic unconsciously the airs and attitudes of the portraits on the wall." '* SNAKE IN THE GRASS." " The Snake in the Grass " is one of those poetic conceptions in which Reynolds was so eminently successful. The recumbent figure is a model of feminine loveliness, and is, no doubt, though unac- knowledged for obvious reasons, the portrait of Miss Vernon, Lady Caroline Montague, or some lovely scion of the Bedford family. It is not a Venus of the pure classic school, such as Titian has be- queathed to us, or Rubens has imitated from Titian, but a goddess of love of modern growth, with- out any pretension to classical origin, or any relation to those conceptions of ideal beauty which the old masters derived from Greece and Olympus. The attitude is easy, graceful, and pleasing. The figure is feminine and attractive, without partaking in any degree of the voluptuous and meretricious ciiaracter of the divinities of Titian and Rubens. There is indeed an air of innocence and purity about it which gives an applicability to the poet's lines : — " 'Tis said that a lion will turn and flee From a maid in the pride of her purity." And even the presence of the little winged god gazing in her face with that expression of wanton mischief so characteristic of the Cupid of the ancient niastei-s, does not impregnate with even a breath of sensuality the modest atmosphere of the picture. It is to be regretted that in some of his most valuable and highly finished productions, Reynolds should have employed so much lake and carmine, colours liable to speedy deterioration. Wc are informed that he was well aware of the perishable nature of these pigments, and that he used them although he well knew that they could not long endure. If so, he made experiments in art at the expense of individuals who purchased works which, at the time they came into their possession, were glossy and gaudy in their colours, but which, like flowers in the field, were destined to fade after gladdening the sight only for a season. Sir Joshua was at length convinced of the danger of using these colours, but not until symptoms of decay had appeared in many of his most popular masterpieces. On the subject of these experiments in colouriDg, which posterity has so much reason to deplore, he remarks with considerable nonchalance, " I was ahvays willing to believe that my micertainty of proceeding in my works— that is, my never being SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 63 sure of my hand, and my frequent alterations — arose from a refined taste, which could not acquiesce in anything short of a high degree of excellence. I had not an opportunity of being early initiated in the principles of colouring ; no man indeed could teach me. If I have never settled with respect to colouring, let it at the same time be remarked that my unsteadiness in this respect proceeded from an inordinate desire to possess every kind of excellence that I saw in the works of others, without considering that there are in colouring, as in style, excellencies which are incompatible with each other. We all know how often those masters who sought after colouring changed their manner, while others, merely from not seeing various modes, a.cquiesced all their lives in that with which they set out. On the contrary, I tried every effect of colour, and by leaving out every colour in its turn, showed each colour that I could do without it. As I alternately left out every colour, I tried every new colour, and often, as is well known, failed. I was influenced by no idle or foolish affectation : my fickleness in the mode of colouring arose from an eager desire to attain the highest excellence. This is the only merit I can assume to myself from my conduct." But whatever experiments he may himself have made in colouring (and unfortunately some of his most elaborate productions prove how great a failure they were), he never allowed any of his pupils a similar license. " That boy will never do good, v^th his gallipots of varnish and foolish mixtures," said he, speaking of some pupil who had been experimentalising in colours. But he never revealed, either to his pupils in private or to the public in his lectures, the secrets of his colouring. Such concealment in a man who, like Reynolds, chose to take upon himself the double office of public and private instructor of students in painting, was inexcusable. He ought not surely to have retained to himself a secret in the art which he seems to have considered of so much value. *'THE HOLY FAMILY." In the composition of this picture, Reynolds challenged competition with the great masters of the Italian school. Religious subjects, as we remarked on a former occasion, were not those in which Reynolds excelled, but as he had made of Michael Angelo and Raphael objects of professional adora- tion, we must not be surprised that he endeavoured to imitate their style. He had, however, no reve- lations of heavenly things, such as inspired Raphael. The visions which presented themselves were unembodied or dim, and flitted before his sight like the airy progeny of Banquo. Could Virgin Marys, infant Redeemers, ministering angels, and the souls of just men made perfect, have sat for their portraits, who could have painted them so truthfully or so divinely as Reynolds. " He never lived a day," says his biographer, without thinking of Michael Angelo, Raphael, or Correggio ; he certainly never wrote a professional memorandum without introducing their works or their names. But, with these masters and "the grand style" constantly on his lips, he dedicated his own pencil to works of a character into which little of the lofty and nothing of the divine could well be introduced. When he endeavoured to imitate, his success was at best problematical. In 1777, Reynolds, who was now inoculated with the ambition of authorship, delivered seven dis- courses on art, which he collected into a volume. He was anxious about the popularity of his work, and, in order to give it an additional claim to the favour of the public, he dedicated his labours to the King, in a preface so elegant in style and so replete with classical allusion, that it is quite clear some more practised pen than his own must have assisted him in its composition. Probably the Colossus of literature, whose portrait Sir Joshua was now painting for the second time, at the request of Mrs, Thrale, was the autlior or the polisher of the dedication. We have no authentic account of the success of the publication. At fifty-four years of age, Reynolds, who had amassed a fortime and achieved a reputation which no English portrait painter had ever equalled, was still so enamoured of his art that lie laboured at it with the same unremitting assiduity which characterised his years of obscurity and jirivation. So popular was he that he was able, without diminishing the number of his customers, to raise his price for a head from thirty-five to fifty guineas. He was, however, no longer in the prime of life, and tlie warnings which wait upon advancing years came thick and fast upon him. Goldsmith was gone; the curtain had fallen for ever upon Garrick; and Johnson gave evident signs of old age and decay. Reynolds, who was a frugal liver and regular in his habits, was, notwithstanding the laboiious life he JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASaRES EXHIBITION. led, still strong and healthy, and a proof in his own person that even sedentary habits and constant labour are less iujurjous in tlieir tendency than riot and dissipation. The thought of retiring from the profession of which he was so much enamoured never once occurred to him. He felt more pleasure in painting than in any recreation or amusement the wuild could supply; and he also felt that much of that social disiinction which was so dear to his aristocratic nature would be lost to him, if he ceased to minister, through his art, to the vanity and pleasure of the rich and the powerful. In the year 1780, the Royal Academy was removed to Somerset House, where it was destined to remain for more than half a century. Sir Joshua elaborated a device for the ceiling of the library, Init ho was not hai)py in his conception. He represented Theory, personified, sitting on a cloud. Lilt, a,; ilio lignrc is dark and mystical, and does not explain its own meaning, i)osterity looks THE HOLY FAJIII.V, FnOM A rAINTlNQ BY SIR JOSHUA HE VKOLDS. upon the design as a complete failure. During the course of tliis year he commenced a series of alle- gorical figures for the window of New Colioo-e Cliapel, at Oxforil Tliey 'ire in all seven personifica- tions — Faith, Hope, Cliarity, Temperance, ForLitude, Justice, and Prudence. The subjects were not of a kind to inspire the painter, and we therefore find that they are a cold and unnatural progeny. The colouring is splendid; l)ut they want that life and reality with which Reynolds invariably managed to invest the likeness of a titled sitter. Four years after the removal of the exhibition of the Royal Academy, the artist, while apparently in the enjoyment of unimpaired health and vigour, was attacked by a paralytic affection. The consternation which the intelligence of his danger occasioned among all classes of society may be judged from the letter which Johnson addressed to him on the subject. " I heard yesterday," says he, " of your late disorder, and should think ill of myself if I heard it without alarm. 1 heard likewise of your recovery, which I wish to be complete and permanent. JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. 65 Your country has been in danger of losing one of its brightest ornaments, and I of losing one of my oldest and kindest friends ; but I hope you will still live long for the honour of the nation, and that more enjoyment of your elegance, your intelligence, and your benevolence is still reserved for, dear Sir, your affectionate — Sam. Johnson." Reynolds recovered from this paralytic attack, and produced many of his finest masterpieces after he had reached the ripe age of fifty-eight. Unrivalled as he was in genius and reputation, he was often subject to those crosses and vexations, from which neither fame nor fortune can shield us. Barry, who had been appointed professor of painting, had been remiss in the performance of the duties of his ofiace, which he held upon the condition of delivering a certain number of lectures in a stipulated time. Reynolds, as president of the Academy, felt it his province to take him to task, upon THOMAS aAINSBOTlOUOU. which Barry, who was a fiery little man, lost his temper, and said to Reynolds, " If I had only, in com- posing my lectures, to produce such poor, mistaken stuff as your discourses, I should have my work done, and be ready to read." Reynolds treated this attack with the contempt it merited, and made no reply. Although he was generally humorous and tolerant, he could occasionally be caustic and severe. An inexperienced tyro in the art of portrait painting one day submitted for his inspection a specimen of her skill. " A portrait ! " said he; " you should not show such things ! What's that upon her head ? A dish-clout 1 " The criticism was cruel ; and, as the young artist was a lady, both ungallant and ungentlemanly. In 1784 Reynolds succeeded to the oflEice of King's painter, vacant by the death of Allan Ramsay. This year he produced his " Fortune-teller," his portrait of Miss Kemble, and his Mrs. Siddons as " the Tragic Muse." These are some of his noblest compositions. But the pleasure he derived from the increase of fame which his masterpieces brought him, was more than balanced by his grief for the loss of his great friend and ally, Dr. Samuel Johnson, who died in 1784. " I have three requests to make 9 66 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. to you," said Joliuson to Reynolds, a day before his death, " and I beg you will attend to them, Bir Joshua ; forgive me thirty pounds which I borrowed from you, read the Scriptures, and abstain from using your pencil on the Sabbath day." Reynolds promised, and remembered his promise when his friend was no more. He sat to Gainsborough for his portrait, but before it was finished he was taken ill, and ordex^ed by his physicians to go to Bath. When he had recovered, he apprised Gainsborough of his return, but his rival took no notice of the intimation. In the year 1789 he had reached the sixty-fourth year of his age — -still active as ever in prosecuting his profession ; and in execution and colouring more perfect and effective than when he was at his prime. One morning, however, in the month of July, v/hile finishing the portrait of the Marchioness of Hertford, the sight of his left eye suffered a sudden eclipse. In mute despair he laid down his pencil, and never lifted it again. The entire loss of his eye, a calamity which afflicted him a few days after this preliminary attack, was a sore trial to him. Society became distasteful ; and, as a refuge from the painful memory of his affliction, he occupied his time in taming a bird. One summer's morning it flew away ; and Reynolds roamed for hours about the square in which he resided in the hope of reclaiming it. The last time that Reynolds made his appearance in the Academy, a catastrophe occurred, which threatened him, and all those assembled there, with instant aimihilation. A beam in the floor gave way, with a loud crash. The audience rushed to the sides of the room, stumbling one over the other, while Sir Joshua sat silent and unmoved in his chair. The floor sank but a few inches, the company resumed their seats, and he recommenced his discourse with the most unruffled composure. A long-concealed and fatal malady was, however, attacking the citadel of life, and sapping his spirits. His liver, which had expanded to twice its natural dimensions, could not be reduced by any of the appliances of art, and he lost all hia wonted cheerfulness. His friends endeavoured to comfort him with hopes of recovery ; but he knew that his hour was come. ^' I have been fortunate," he said, in having good health and constant success, and I ought not to complain. I know that all thitigs on earth must have an end, and now I am come to mine." He expired, without any visible symptoms of pain, on the 23rd of February, 1792, in the sixty-ninth year of his age. " His illness," says Burke, " was long, but borile with a mild and cheerful fortitude, without the least mixture of anything irritable or querulous, agreeably to the placid and even tenor of his whole life." He had, from the beginning of his malady, a distinct view of his dissolution ; and he contem- plated it with that entire composure which nothing but the innocence, integrity, and usefulness of his life, and an unaffected submission to the will of Providence, coi^ld bestow. One of the crypts of St. Paul's Cathedral contain the ashes of this celebrated artist, who was accompanied to the grave by many of the most illustrious men of the time. He sleeps by the side of Sir Christopher Wren, architect of the stately pile ; and a statue to his memory, by Flaxman, has since been placed i-n the body of the cathedral. We have already discussed the merits of his productions in our notices of the engravings copied from paintings which have been contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibition at Manchester, or which are deposited in the galleries of our nobility and gentry. The discourses, which were delivered when the annual distribution of medals took place among the most promising students of the Royal Academy, were generally well calculated to produce the effect he intended. He always endeavoured in them to excite the enthusiasm of his hearers, by dilating upon the dignity and importance of the art of painting. They inculcated the necessity of constant labour and study; but their great defect was, that they proposed for objects of imitation the chefs-croeuvre of those masters whose style but little corresponded with the English taste. " Study," exclaimed Reynolds to his students, passim, throughout his discourses — " study the works of the great masters for ever. Study nature attentively, but always with those masters in your comjiany. Consider tliem as models which you are to imitate, and, at the same time, as rivals which you are to combat." And yet he must have been well aware, while thus lecturing the rising generation of painters, tha,t he was urging them to seek fortune and fame in a pursuit in which neither could be obtained, and concealing from them the secret through which he had realised wealth and reputation. There was a want of sincerity in all this, which was a stain upon the otherwise fair fame of the greatest portrait painter this country has ever produced. THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH. :d7 Of historical and poetic subjects, he painted upwards of one hundred and thirty. Of public characters, he painted the portraits of some four-and-twenty, upon whose merits posterity has set its stamp ; and of ladies he painted many whose fame for beauty and talent his genius has perpetuated. In conclusion, his great eulogist, Burke, says of him, that he was, on many accounts, one of the most memorable men of his time. "He was th© jtirst Englishman who added the praise of the elegant arts to the other glories of his country. In taste, in grace, in facility, in happy invention, and in the richness and harmony of colouring, he was equal to the greatest masters of the renowned ages. In portrait he went beyond them ; for he communicated to that description of the art in which English artists are most engaged, a variety, a fancy, and a dignity, derived from the higher branches, which even those who professed them in a superior manner did not always preserve when they delineated individual nature. His portrait^} remind the spectator of the invention and amenity of landscape. In painting portraits, he appeared not to be raised upon that platform, but to descend upon it from a higher sphere." Such was Heynolds as an artist ; and though he may have had laid to his charge some littlenesses inseparable from the habits he contracted in early life, and some r>rejudices, which, created striking discrepancies between his precepts and his practice. He was a man, who, take him foi* all in all, We shall not look upon his like again." And therefore we say " JRequiesCiH in jpace*^* THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH. AINSBOEOlTGH, with whose immortal productions we will continue our illustrations of tlie works contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibition, was born in the year 1727, at Sudbury, in Suffolk. His father was a clothier by trade, ^ a dissenter in religion. He was a man of peculiar habits — mys- terious in his intercourse with his friends, and suvspected, for some purpose never revealed, of carrying a dagger and pistols under his clothes. In the times when our highways Were all infested by banditti, when rebellion at home, and invasion from abi^ad, were catastrophes daily expected, we cannot ourselves see anytliing very extraordinary in Mr. Gainsborough, senior, using the precautions which created so much suspicion among the pastoral and timid rustics of Sufiblk. His mother was a sensible woman, and proud of her sons — ^altogether three in number, of whom Thomas, the subject of our present memoir, was the youngest. Through the care and expense bestowed by their mother upon their early education, young Gains- borovigh and his brothers were superior to most of the youths of their own age in the town in talents and acquii-esients. It is indeed to their mothers that the men who have made a conspicuous figure in life generally attribute the origin of their success. A clever father is often the sire of a stupid and profligate progeny • but a wise and intelligent mother will generally have sons who are the heirs of her intellectual superiority, and whose future SUCCe^a is, in nine cases out of ten", the result of their maternal training. Thomas Gainsborough gave early indications of a taste for fine art. While yet a child he loved to wander through winding glades and under ancient trees, when he would fill his school copy-books with pencillings of flowers or shrubs, or any other objects which attracted his notice. The sketches in his copy-book were prophetic of the style of his maturer productions. We are informed that at ten years of age he had made great progress in drawing, and that at twelve he was a confirmed painter. Book- learning, of course, suffered in the ratio of his progress in fine art, and we accordingly find that, although in his letters he was able to express himself in clear and forcible language, he was by no 68 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. TUE BLUE ■ BOY. FROM A PAIKTINQ BY THOMAS QAINSBOROUGU. f GonttUnited to the Art Treasures Exhibition by the 3farquis of Westminster.) means equal in scholarship to what his brothers had been at his age. An anecdote is related of him about this time which does not tell much to his credit. His request for a holiday had been refused by his schoolmaster, and as he was determined not to be disappointed in his intended sketching excursion, THOMAS GAlNSBOROIJGIf. €9 70 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. he counterfeited his father's hand, and sent the usual missive of "Give Tom a holiday" to the pedagogue. The forgery was detected, and his father, when the circumstance came to his knowledge, in terror exclaimed, " The boy will come to he hanged ! " But when the copy-book was shown to him containing the drawings which the boy had sketched in the holiday he had so nefariously obtained, the father changed his tone, and declared that his " boy was a genius." Many anecdotes are told of the precocity of his talent for landscape and portrait painting. The picture which is known by the name of " Tom Peartree's Portrait " — a work much admired by artists — owes its origin to a singular circum- stance. "While stealthily sketching some curious old tree in his father's garden, his eye lighted on a man who was gating with an anxious, thievish expression of countenance upon some pears which tempted his appetite. With the quick perception of genius, Tom seized his oj^portunity, and in a few minutes sketched, to the life, the man and the pear-tree. The likeness was shown to the father, who, upon the authority of it, taxed the peasant with an intention of stealing his pears. The man, con- fronted with his likeness taken on the spot and at the moment, had no defence to make. He left Sudbury, in Suffolk, where the merit of his sketches had already given him a certain reputMion, for London, at the age of fourteen. In the metropolis he studied painting under Hayman, one of the companions of Hogarth j though some affirm that he received the first rudiments of his art fit)m Gmvelot. However this may have baen, it is quite certain that his genius, good looks, and modest deportment, gained him many friends. He had as yet no high opinion of his own powers, and limited his ambition to the prospect of making a livelihood in a provincial town. After four years of diligent study in London, during which he was initiated into many of the Becrets of colour and composition, he returned to Sudbury a painter of acknowledged promise. Painting is almost as intimately connected with romance as poetry, and our young artist, who was now about eighteen years of age, oj a susceptible heart and lively imagination, was soon engaged in a tender liaison with- a blooming Scotch lass of sixteen, who had formed part of a landscape he was painting in one of his professional rambles. The name of this lady was Margaret Burr ; she was the reputed daughter of one of the exiled Stuarts, and to many personal advantages, added the more solid attraction of an annuity of two hundred pounds. ** A mutual flame Wd,B quickly caught^ And quickly, too, revealed, li'Df neitlier bosom lodged a thought That vil'tue keeps concealed.'' Under the circumstances Gains oorough's jmrents made no objection to the union ; and as the lady was at her own disposal, for. once the course of true love did run smooth. They married, and settled, in tlie first instance, at Ipswich, where the yt)Uhg painter became acquainted with the governor of Land- guard Fort. Gainsborough's ready wit and artistic tolent rendered his society a great acquisition to his new patron, who made him a Avelcome guest at his table, and for a time Used his best endeavours to serve him. The pleasure which the gorernor experienced in patroiiiising only lasted m long as the artist was submissive and dependent. As a proof of the versatility of Gainsboi*ough's talent. We are told that the governor, who was a respectable performer upon the instrument, presented the painter with a fiddle, and that Gainsborough, after a little practice, acquired so much skill in playing uj^oh it, that the governor declared he would " a« soon attempt to paint against him as play against him." In 1758 the artist removed to Bath, and took lodghigs in the Circus, for which he paid fifty pounds a year. His Avife, with the characteristic caution of the nation to which she belonged, remonstrated Avith her husband upon this increase in their expenditure, but as she was a gentle, sweet-tempered woman, aiid never attempted to rule her husband except by seeming to submit, her scruples were over- ruled. Gainsborough was, in fact, making rapid progress in his profession. His price for a head had risen from five guineas to eight, and as the fame of his skill in taking correct and pleasing likenesses increased, he was able to obtain forty guineas for a half, and a hundred for a whole length portrait. With plenty to do at sucli prices, the fears which his wife had felt about money mattei^ sOon vanished. He had no taste for literature, and when taunted with his aversion to books, he replied that natui-e was the volume he studied, and that she was sufficient for his pUfpose. He was, however, devoted to music ; and although'he could never be induced to learn a note, he acquired considerable proficiency on peveral kmdfj of instruments. "Gainsborough's profession," said his friend J^ackson, " is i)Ainting, THOMAS aAINSBOUOlTGH. 7'i and music is liis amusement ; yet there are times when music seems to be his employment and painting his diversion." In 1774, after sixteen years residence in Bath, Gainsborough removed to London, and took a house in Pall Mall, which had been built by the Duke of Schomberg. His merit as a portrait and landscape painter had already been long appreciated in London by those who for thirteen years had seen his masterpieces exhibited at the Royal Academy. Nevertheless the vain and self-sufficient governor of Landguard Fort, whom Gainsborough had never been able to shake off, attributed all the artist's success in London to a letter of introduction he gave him to Lord Bateman. People of quality besieged him for their portraits ; and even Sir Joshua Reynolds, who had long been established as the first portrait painter of the day, had in Gainsborough a rival whom many preferred. The far-famed Duchess of Devonshire, at that time in all the pride of her unrivalled loveliness, was a suitor for her portrait, but the charms of the peerless beauty were too much for the susceptible painter, and after many unsuc- cessful efforts, he declined the order. Two sketches of the duchess were afterwards found among hU papers, both exquisitely beautiful. ^^THE BLUE BOY." The painting from which this engraving is copied, is contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibition by the Marquis of Westminster. Sir Joshua Reynolds had maintained that the predominance of blue in a picture is incompatible with a good effect of colour. Everybody, at all acquainted with the history of the artists of the time, knows that there was no love lost betvN^een the rival painters. Gainsborough could never forgive Sir Joshua for having described him as " the first landscape painter of the day," and he painted this picture with the double object of disproving Sir Joshua's theory about the predo- minance of blue, and of convincing the world that he v/as as great in portrait as in landscape painting. The picture is indeed so beautifully conceived and executed, that it would, in the opinion of many, establish Gainsborough's estimate of himself Of Master ButtaU,the subject of the picture, immortalised by the genius of Gainsborough, we know nothing ; but if, as we have no doubt is the case, the artist has given us a faithful likeness of him, he had an expreasion of shrewdness and humour in his face which, had the boy improved his natural advantages, were suggestive of future success and distinction. The landsc^ipe in which this youth, with his striking blue jacket and trowsers, has. been placed, is so rem_arkable for its sweep of broken ground and woodland, and its masses of lurid sky, that the whole work rises into the ideal of portraiture. It is in itself the history of the boy's prospects. You may gaze upon it until you build up for him a career — \mii\ you findyoin^self speculating upon his character and his advancement. If you look closely into the composition, you will admire the freedom and facility v/ith which it is executed. You will detect no carelessness in the sweeping brush work of the dress — in the marked yet delicately managed shadows of the face — in the stately sweep of the land- scape, or in the lighting up of the stoi^my sky. At a distance the effect of the picture is still more striking and powerful, The " Blue Boy " stands out like a solid incarnation of flesh and blood from the distance of half the gallery. To judge of its merits, distance iemot required ; md yet so admirably are the lights and shadows intermingled, that distance adds to the effect of the whole. ''TWO BOYS AND FIGHTINa DOGS." The celebrated painting from_ which this engraving was taken is contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibition by J. ToUemache, Esq. The scene is most dramatic. The quarrel between the two dogs is very likely to end in a tustle a Voutrance between their two masters. Already the owner of the worsted mongrel is rushing, cudgel in hand, to attack the triumphant cur, when lie is stopped midway by the other boy, who is determined that his dog shall enjoy uninterrupted the full benefit of the advantage he has gained. The landscape has all the characteristics of Gainsborough's style. His trees have no positive s^Decific character, and his surfaces are treated without much regard to natural texture ; but in colour and general relief — that is, in the value at which the objects tell against the sky — his landscapes are very masterly. " The Boys with Fighting Dogs " is equally admirable, both in the background^ «^^d as a powerful rendering of a disagreeable subject. 72 JOHN CASSEtL'S ART TREASTOES EXHIBITION. "LANDSCAPE WITH CHILDREN." This painting, of which our engraving is a faithful copy, wa^ contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibition by J. ToUemache, Esq. The subject is one eminently calculated to develop the peculiarities of Gainsborough's genius. " There is a charm," Bays Allan Cunningham, " about the chddren runnmg wild in the landscapes of Gainsborough which is more deeply felt by comparing them with those of Reynolds The children of Sir Joshua are indeed beautiful creations, free, artles.s, and lovely; but they seem all to have been nursed in velvet laps, and fed with golden spoons. There is a rustic grace an untamed wildness about the children of tlie other, which speak of the country and of neglected LAWPSOAPE WITH CHILDREN. FROM A PAINTING BY THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH. (Contritnited to the Art Treamres Exhibition by J. ToUmache, Esq.) toilets. They are tlie offspring of nature, running free among*st woods as wild as themselves. They are not afraid of disordering their satins, and wetting their kid shoes. They roll ou the green sward, burrow like rabbits, and dabble in the running stream daily." *'THE BROOK." This is one of those beautiful morceaux in which Gainsborough so far excelled all the artists of his day. There is a rustic reality and beauty about the landscape which appeals forcibly to the hearts of those who have been nurtured in the midst of similar scenes. " The chief works of Gainsborough," says his JOHN CASSELL'S ART irvEASURES EXHIBITION. 73 biographer, " are not what is usually called landscape, for he liad no wish to create gardens of paradise, and leave them to tlie sole enjoyment of the sun and breeze. The wildest nooks of his woods have their living tenants, and in all his glades and valleys we see the sons and daughters of men. A. deep human sympathy unites us with his pencil ; and this is not lessened because all his works arc stamped with the image of Old England. His paintings have a natural look. He belongs to no School. He has not reflected from the glass of man, but from that of nature j he has not steeped his landscapes in the CA 1 l\l POP, 01! Cli.P F Rl^ F M A M . D THE COTTAGE DOOR. FROM A PAINTING BY THOMAS GAINSBUROUGH. C Contril uted to ike Art Treasures Exhibition by John Bcntleu, Esq.) atmosphere of Italy, like Wilson ; nor borrowed the postures of his portraits from the old masters, like Reynolds, No academy schooled dov/n into uniformity and imitation the truly English and intrepid nature of Gainsborough. It must not, however, be denied that his productions are sometimes disfigured by the impatience of his nature, and the fiery haste in which he wrought. Wishing to do quickly what his mind conceived strongly, he often neglected, in the dashing vigour of his hand, many 10 74 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. of those lesser graces which lend art so much of its attractiveness. He felt the whole, indeed, at once ; he was possessed fully with the sentiment of his subject ; he struck off his favourite subjects at one continuous heat of thought, and all is clear, connected, and consistent. But, like Nature herself, he performed some of his duties with a careless haste ; and in many, both of his portraits and his land- scapes, we see evident marks of inattention and hurry." "THE COTTAGE DOOR." The painting from which this engraving is copied is one of Gainsborough's most celebrated pro- ductions, and has been contributed to the Art Treasui-es Exhibition by J. Bentley, Esq. It represents a cottage matron with an infant in her arms. There are several older children, who are enjoying themselves at the door of a little rustic cabin. It is a kind of lodge in a wilderness, deeply embedded in a woody recess, and through the avenues of trees glimpses of knolls and streams are caught at intervals. Tl^e brea^VtJi ^pci mass of this picture are especially remarkable, and in the colouring there is a peculiar lichness derived from the admixture of brown and glossy gold, which is characteristic of Gainsborough's style. The matron is in person the becm ideal of a youthful cottage dame, uniting v/ith an innate gentleness of expression that rustic loveliness for which our Isle of Beauty is so famous. "THE DONKEY RACE." This is one of Gainsborough's most popular conceptions, and even in the engraving the life and reality of the prigin^'l picture may be traced. The expression in the faces of the boys, who seem to have infused into the spirit of the asses they are urging forward in the struggle some of the mettle and ambition of the thorough-bred racer, is admirably conceived. The one, who is three parts of a length in advance of the other, is already snapping his fingers in triumph, and exulting in the applause which his success has elicited from the assembled crowd of spectators. The other, whose be^st, notwithstanding the almost superhuman efforts of his rider, cannot keep pace with the rival donkey, is proportionably disheartened and depressed. We can read in his face vexation and defeat as plainly as if they were written there in legible ch^-racters. He is, nevertheless, making a last and vigorous effort to regain the ground he has lost ; but the goal is close at hand, and already he hears the shouts of victory which hail the triumph of his successful antagonist. The excitement is on a minor scale, but almost equal in intensity, among those who are abetting the two young jockeys, to that which we see displayed at Epsom or 4-SCot. In this picture of Gainsborough's the criticism of Reynolds, who, although a rival, was too honest a man not to acknowledge our artist's meyit, applies with peculiar force : " It is certain," said Sir Joshua, " that all those odd scratches and marks which, on a close examination, are so observable in Gains- borough's pictures, and which, even to experienced painters, appear rather the effect of accident than design— this chaos, this uncouth an4 shapeless appearance, by a kind of magic at a certain distance, assumes forxft, and all the pavts seem to drop into their proper places, so that we can hardly forbear acknowledging the full effect of diligence under the appearance of chance and hasty negligence." That Gainsborough himself considered this peculiarity in his manner, and the power it possessed in creating surprise as a beauty i^ h^a "vvo^'ks, may be inferred fi-om the eage]p desire which we know he always expressed, that his pictures at the exhibition should be seen near as well as at a distance. The imagination supplies all that is left undefined, and perhaps more satisfactorily to the spectator, if not more exactly, than tlie artist with all his care could ^lave dona Gainsborough possessed no inconsiderable share of what the French call le talent de la societe. His gentlemanly presence and manners, wit, humour, and affability, made him everpvhere a welcome guest. Among the most intimate of his friends and admirers were Sir George Beaumont, a fine specimen of the Old, English gentleman, and the celebrated Richard Brinsley Sheridan. We are told that as the trio were one day dining together, the two friends remarked that Gainsborough, who was usually the life of the party, was silent and gloomy. Unable to shake off his sadness, he took Sheridan aside, and told him that what oppressed him was a pressentimenf that he had not long to live. "Now,'" said he, " as I am anxious to have one worthy man to accompany me to the grave, may I bespeak your attend- THOMAS GAINSBOROUaH. 75 ance at my funeral ?" Sheridan was somewhat startled at the curious nature of the request, but made the promise he exacted, and throughout the rest of the evening Gainsborough was himself again. With Reynolds he had little sympathy, and their intercourse with one another was always tinctured with suspicion and distrust. They had, however, at one time agreed upon an exchange of portraits ; but althoup-h Reynolds sat once to Gainsborough, the picture was never finished. There was a mis- luiderstanding between them which was not cleared up until Gainsborough, on his death-bed, sent for Reynolds. They had lived as rivals, and jealous of each other's fame, but Death reconciled their differences. About a year after the date of the dinner at which he had exacted the promise from Sheridan, he went to hear the impeachment of Warren Hastings, and while sitting with his back to an open window, he is said to have felt something inconceivably cold touch his neck, above the shirt collar. In the evening he examined the part, and found a spot, about the size of a shilling. Coupling the circumstance with his former presentiment, he exclaimed, " If this be a cancer I am a dead man." The faculty ridiculed the idea ; but his own conviction of his danger proved in the end to be better founded than the opinion of the doctors. The dreadful malady spread with a rapidity which rendered medical assistance of no avail, and on the 2nd of August, 1788, he expired, in the sixty-first year of his age. Sheridan and Reynolds- attended his funeral. Gainsborough Avas handsome in person, gentlemanly in manner, and in conversation witty, humorous, and persuasive. He never affected any taste for les belles lettres, but his letters are^ never- theless, remarkable for ease, fluency, and high spirit. He has been taxed with a licentious freedom of expression, but the age in which he lived is more accountable for the questionable nature of his jokes than the painter himself. At Rome we must do as they do at Rome, and in the society of such men as Sheridan, a squeamish delicacy of expression would have exposed him to ridicule. As a portrait painter he was perhaps hardly equal to Reynolds, but his landscapes are entitled, as Walpole says, " to rank in the noblest collections." It is difficult to ascertain the date of his various productionSj as ho rarely, if ever, affixed either a name or a date to any of them. " The Woodman and his Dog in a Storm," " The Shepherd's Boy in a Shower," " The Cottage Girl with her Dog and Pitcher," the far-famed " Blue Boy," and " The Cottage Door," both of which are in Lord Grosvenor's collection, are among the most famous of his master-pieces. He is said to have painted " The Blue Boy " with the view of proving to the world that Sir Joshua was wrong in asserting that the prevalence of "blue" in his pictures marred their beauty and effect. The original of the picture was a Master Buttall, of whom we know nothing j but the expression of shrewdness and humour which Gainsborough has thrown into his face, has imm.ortalised the obscure youth. The cerulean splendour of his coat has in it somethilig rather startling, but it is this veiy brilliancy of the blue which sets off the beauty of the figure and the landscape ; and they must be very green indeed who do not recognise the extraordinary merit of the whole picture. Among all the productions of the painters of the English school exhibited at Manchester, there is nothing which has attracted more universal admiration than Gainsborough's " Blue Boy." Much as Gainsborough's widow lamented his loss, her grief did not pxetent her froiii makiiig, as soon as possible, all she could out of the gallery of pictures he had bequeathed to her. Iii the spring which followed his death she opened an exhibition of his productions in Pall-mall. The pictures were fifty-six in number, and the drawings were as many as one hundred and forty-eight. Like a true Scotchwoma^n, she had a keen eye for the main chance, and did not allow any sentimental weakness to prevent her marking them all for sale. Some of these were sold at the exhibition, and the rest were disposed of by public auction. The celebrated " Blue Boy," after having passed through the hands of a variety of possessors, found its way into the Grosvenor Gallery, to which it will be restored when the Art Treasures Exhibition at Manchester closes. THE COMPARISON. In comparing Reynolds with Gainsborough, and striking the balance of their respective merits, we must take into the account the different nature of their training. Reynolds was the pupil of Hudson, a routine portrait painter of some note, whose success was owing not to any innate talent for the profession he had chosen, but to that strange pertinacity with which the English, as a nation, cleav(? to old notions, old hal^itS; and old prejudices. 76 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. At that time Allan Cunningham tells iis " that students consumed their time in drawing inces- santly from other men's works, and vainly thought, by gazing constantly on the unattainable excellence of Ra2:)hael and Correggio, to catch a portion of their inspiration. "When any one dejiarted from such tame and ser\dle rules, he was pronounced a Gothic dreamer, and unworthy of being numbered among those happy persons patronised by St. Luke." This accounts for the name of Hogarth being rarely or never found in the lectures or letters of the artists of his own time. Men who are regularly trained to the admiration of a certain class of works, admit few into the ranks of painting who have not a kind of academic certificate, and lop carefully away all wild or overflourishing branches from the tree of regular art. Amongst persons of this stamp, to admire Hogarth amounts to treason against the great THE BROOK. FROM A PAINTING BY THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH. masters. The painters of those days were worsliippers of tlie grand style — a term which would seem to mean something alone and unappioacliablc ; for no man offered to make any aj^proacli to it by Avorks that partook of either dignity or imagination. Beynolds, tutored in this school, retained to the last many of the prejudices belonging to it. In all his discourses we find that he inculcates these old-world, hackneyed, and impracticable maxims. He had, indeed, in practice, emancipated himself from the trammels of routine, but, in theory, he still clung to them. " He was fond of seeking," says his biographer, " into the secrets of the old painters, and dissected some of their performances, without remorse or scrujDle, to ascertain their mode of laying on colour, and finishing with effect. Titian he conceived to be the great master spirit in portraiture ; and no enthusiast in usury ever sought more incessantly for the secret of the i)hilosoj)her's stone than did Reynolds to possess liimself of the whole theory and practice of the Yenetiau. But this was Thomas GAlNSBORotJGHi i1 THE DONKEY RACE, FROM A PAINTING BY THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH. concealed pursuit ; lie disclosed his discoveries to none ; he lectured on Micliacl Angelo, and discoursed on Kaphael ; but he studied and dreamed of Titian. ' To possess,' said the artist, ' a real fine picture by that great master, I would sell all my gallery ; I would willingly ruin myself.' " But while he was thus magiiilociuently talking of the grand style, he closed his lips both to his 79 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION, friends and his pupils concerning the domestic style and tlie mystery of portraiture in which he himself was unequalled. He knew how numerous are the admirers of portrait painting, and that it is pleasant to read tlie ]iistovy of the social and domestic affections of the country in innumerable productions of this kind. There seems, then, to have been a constant struggle going on within himself between the principles of high art, such as he had learned to aiDpreciate in the school of routine and at Eome, and those principles of which his better sense approved, and which he had found in practice so profitable and popular. Gainsborough was a genius of a very different order. He was in everything the disciple of nature, and followed the bent of his own inspiration, unfettered by the principles or practice of any Bchool or country. Portrait painting was the most profitable, but landscape and music were his specialites. He had ilideed two mistresses. The one he courted for gain, the other from pure affection. Gainsborough was, by nature, open-hearted, generous, trusting, and unsuspicious ; too proud to truckle to Avealth or rank, and too conscious of the superiority which genius conferred upon him to care for the favour of the great. Reynolds was, on the contrary, of a cold and calculating disposition, parsimonious in his habits, and a worshipper of rank and station. Gainsborough delighted in painting children such as he had beheld them, running wild in the rural scenes he so loved to represent, wliile those of Reynolds are all children of condition, nursed in the lap of luxury, with clothes so fine in texture, and of so recent a fashion, that we are conscious of beholding in them the future lords and ladies of the heaio monde. In all this, the works of Reynolds and Gainsborough are as entirely dissimilar as their characters j but neither of these popular artists had much in common with the great painters of Italy. There is too much nsiture and reality in botli. The infants of Raphael, Titian, or Correggio have scarcely anything earthly about them j they are more like the children of gods than men ; more divine tlian human. "We can scarcely imagine, when we contemplate them, that they v/ere ever suckled by tlie daughters of Eve. "We may admire, but we cannot feel that love or sympathy for them that we do for tiie rustic children of Gainsborough, rolling on the green sward, burrowing like rabbits, or dabbling in the running brooks, or for those pampered, but not less life-like, scions of the aristocracy which Reynolds preferred for his models. Gainsborough was born in 1727, and died in 1788, in the sixty-first year of his age. Reynolds was born in 1723, and died in the year 1792, in the sixty-ninth year of his age; thus surviving, by four years, his rival, who was his junior by three years. Gainsborough had greatly the advantage in personal appearance, though inferior to Reynolds in the accident of birth ; since the father of the first was a clothier by trade, while the latter was the son of a clergyman. They verified, in their inter- course with one another, the wisdom of the old saying, that "two of a trade can never agree." " The cold and carefully-meted-out courtesy of the one," says the biographer, " little suited with the curious mixture of candour and caprice in the other, and, like frost and fire, v/liich some convulsion casts into momentary contact, they jostled, and then retired from each other, never more to meet till Gainsborough summoned Reynolds to his death-bed." Some unnatural fit of good-will once brought them together. On reflection, they separated, and continued to speak of one another after their o^vn natures — Gains- borough with open scorn, Reynolds with courteous, cautious insinuation. It is true, however, that they at length forgave each other — that Gainsborough, on his death-hed^ made atonement for his opposition, and relinquished all dislike, and that of Gainsborough, after he was in his grave, Reynolds spoke with truth and justice. Gainsborough's drawings are very numerous and masterly. No artist of the time has bequeathed to us so many gems of this kind. In speaking of them, his friend J ackson remarks, " I have seen at least a thousand, not one of which but what possesses merit, and some in a transceiidant degree. His sketches of ladies are some of the finest things I have ever seen ; and of these the Duchess of Devon- shire is perhaps the most striking and beautiful. She seems to smile upon those who gaze upon her, like the presiding genius of her own groves at Chatsworth." The names of his finest sketches are lost, but we do not think this a matter of any importance. The merit of the drawings commands universal admiration. In this respect the most prejudiced must own that the comparison is all in favour of Gainsborough. JOHN CONSTABLE ONSTABLE, the celebrated landscape painter, was the son of a miller, and -win born at Dedham, in Essex, in the year 1776. The locality of his birth, and the business to which he was trained in his boyhood, gave a certain tone and character to all his artistic productions, in which, as he himself confessefi, there is a preponderance of mills, streams, dams, dykes, and weirs. The peculiar atmospheric effects for which he was so remarkable, were attributable to his early reminiscences of the variegated and beautiful colouring produced by the rays of the sun on the water, as they fell in showers from the wheel of his father's mill. Our materials for a biography of this celebrated artist are very meagre and imperfect. Indeed, of his early life we know so little, that we imagine it must have been spent in actually working in those mills which he afterwards so skilfully represented upon canvas. ' The first authentic accounts we have of his artistic life are subsequent to his admission as a student of the Koyal Academy, in the year 1800. He was at that time already in the twenty-fifth year of his age ; and when we recollect how great a progress in their profession other artists who pre- ceded him in the same style had made before they reached his time of life, we see that he was not by any means a precocious genius. That his success was uncertain, and that the proceeds of his art came in but slowly and at long intervals, is proved by the fact of his being compelled, for the sake of economy, to take up his quarters, during the first period of his studentship, in America-square, Minories — a place so remote from the haunts of fashion, that we dare say many of our exclusive readers are ignorant of its existence. Genius, however, cannot long be buried in obscurity, even when domiciled in the far East ; and a picture which Constable painted and exhibited at the Exhibition of the Royal Academy, while he was still a sojourner in the purlieus of Whitechapel, brought him into notice. That there is something striking in his style of painting is proved by the fact, that it was as much admired by some as it was cxiticised by others. Ruskin, in his " Modern Painters," compares, and we think with unjustifiable partiality, the masterpieces of Constable with those of Turner and Claude Lorraine. Speaking of one of Turner's trees which he calls " a finished work even in outline," he says : " In order to show its perfectness better by conti'ast with bad work, I will take for a bit of Constable the principal tree out of the engraving of the ' Lock on the Stour.' " It differs from the Claude outline merely in being the kind of work which is produced by an tminventive person dashing about idly with a brush instead of drawing determinately wrong with a pen j on the one hand worse than Claude's, in being lazier ; on the other a little better, in being more free ; but as the representative of tree form, wholly barbarous. This trunk of Constable's is curiously illustrative of the description we have given of an uninventive painter at work on a tree. One can almost see him, first bending it to the right — then having gone long enough to the right turning to the left — then having gone long enough to the left, away to the right again — then dividing it ; and because there is another tree in the picture with two long branches (in this cas^ there really is), Ave know that this ought to have three or four which must undulate or go backwards and forwards, &c. &c. " Then study the bit of Turner's work ; note first its quietness, unattractiveness, apparent careless- ness, whether you look at it or not ; next, note the subtle curvatures within the narrowest limits, and when it branches, the unexpected out-of-the-way things it docs, just what nobody could have thought of its doing, shooting out like a letter Y, with a nearly straight branch, and then correcting its stiff- ness with a zig-zag behind, so that the boughs, ugly individually, are beautiful in unison." We quote a short criticism from the same writer upon another favourite production of Constable's, because we wish to prove how easy it is for those who are disciples of the prc-Raphaelite heresy to find defects in chefs cVcmvre which have stood the test even of time. " I place," gays Ruskin, " a bit of trunk, by Constable, from another plate (a Dell in Helming- 80 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. ham Park, Suffolk) for the sake of the same comparison in shade that we have above in contour. You see Constable does not know whether he is drawing moss or shadow. Those dark touches in the middle are confused in his mind between the dark stains on the trunk and its dark side. There is no anatomy, no cast shadow, nothing but idle sweeps of the brush, vaguely circular. The thing is much darker than Turner's, but it is not therefore finished, it is only blackened. And 'to blacken,' is indeed the j)roper word for all attempts at finish without knowledge. All true finish is added fact ; and Tur- ner's word for finishing a picture was always this significant one — * carry forward.' But labour without added knowledge can only blacken or stain a picture, it cannot finish it." "We must, however, bear in mind that neither the connoisseurs nor the public at large have endorsed this sweeping condemnation of Constable, whose productions are as popular with the present generation as they were with the last. JOHN CONSTABLE. We cannot give a better illustration of the unfair preference which the pre-Raphaelite school gives to Turner than by quoting one or two more of tlieir advocate's prejudiced comparisons. " Constable," says Ruskin, " takes me out into a shower, and Claude into the s\ui, and De Wint makes me feel as if I were walking in the fields ; but Turner keeps me in the house, and I know always that I am looking at a picture. If you want to feel as if you were in a shower, cannot you go out and get wet without help from Constable % If you want to feel as if you were walking in the fields, cannot you go and walk in them without helj) from De Wint ? But if you want to sit in your room and look at a beau- tiful picture, why should you blame the artist for getting you one. This was the answer actually made to me by various journalists when first I showed that Turner was truer than other painters. ' Nay,' said they, * we do not want truth, we want something else than truth ; we would not have nature, but something better than nature.' " JOim CASSELLS' ABT TREASURES EXHIBITION'. ' >^'.t (Coniribuled to the 4rt Treasures the Royal AmdamijJ 11 82 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION, In 1802 Constable's name appeared for the first time as a contributor to the Exhibition of tlie Royal Academy. The picture of which the managing committee approved was entitled " Landscape," and is, in many respects, inferior, in the opinion of connoisseurs, to another production of the same artist, entitled " A Cornfield with Reapers at Work," which they rejected. An anecdote is related concerning this picture, which will be interesting to the admirers of Constable. A certain Samuel Strowger, a native of Suffolk, who had begun life as a ploughman on a farm in the vicinity of Constable's Mill, and had afterwards enlisted in the Guards, where, on account of the symmetry of his form, and the grace of his attitudes, he was selected as a model by the students of the Royal Academy, * was anxious to do his country neighbour a service among the members of that honourable Society. Our artist's landscapes were jDeculiarly pleasing to Sam, because they recalled to his memory the scene of his early life, and he pointed out to the Managing Committee a " Cornfield with Reapers at Work " as especially worthy of their attention, on account of the correctness with which ^Hhe lord,'' aa the leading man among reapers is called in Suffolk, was represented. The piece was, however, notwith- standing Sam's recommendation, rejected, and the model endeavoured to console his friend, and at the same time apologise for the Managing Committee, by remarking : "Our gentlemen are all great artists, sir, but they none of them know anything about ' the lord' " This same Samuel Strowger is the original of the intelligent looking farmer in Wilkie's " Rent Day," who, seated at the table with his finger raised, appears to be recalling some circumstance to the recollection of the steward. From West, v/ho was at this time President of the Royal Academy, Constable received many proofs of friendship and regard. A picture, entitled "Flatford Mill," whicli a majority of the Com- mittee had rejected, Constable carried to Mr. West, who, perceiving how much the young artist was disappointed and distressed, said, in a kind and encouraging tone, " Don't be disheartened, young man ; we shall hear of you again. You must have loved nature very much before you could have painted this." He then gave Constable some useful hints in chiaro-oscuro, and concluded by saying, " Always remember, sir, that light and shade v/ never stand still. V/hatever object you are painting, keep in mind its prevailing character rather than its accidental appearance (unless in the subject there is some peculiar reason for the latter), and never be content until you have transferred that to can\^as. In your skies, for instance, always aim at brightness, although there are states of the atmosphere in which the sky itself is not bright. I do not mean that you are not to paint solemn or lowering skies ; but even in the darkest effects there should be brightness. Your darks should look like the darks of silver, not of lead or of slate." Constable profited by this advice, which he said was the best lecture, because a practical one, Avhich he had ever heard on chiaro-oscwo. In 1803 Constable's contributions to the Royal Academy consisted of tv/o "Landscapes," and two " Studies from Nature." About this time he took to draAving sea-pieces, and made atrip from London to Deal in "The Coutts," an Eastlndiaman commanded by Captain Torin, a friend of Ms father. He took sketches of the "Victory," a three-decker of 112 guns, in three different viev/s ; but when he quitted the East Indiaman there was such confusion on board that, although he had done up his drawings very carefully, he left them all behind. He alludes to this misfortune in the following words : " When I found, on landing, that I had left my drawings, and saw the ship out of reach, I was ready to faint. I hope, however, I may see them again some time or other." He did recover them all (they were about one hundred and thirty in nunaber) a short time after, and we find that he very soon made use of them as subjects for his paintings. In 1805 he exhibited a landscape called "Moonlight and in 1806 a drawing of "His Majesty's Ship Victory in the Battle of Trafalgar between two French Ships of the Line." In the autumn of this year he made a tour among the lakes, the results of which were seen the following spring in the Exhibition of the Royal Academy, to which he contributed three pictures — " A View in Westmoreland," "Keswick Lake," and " Bow Fell, Cumberland." He much improved his taste for colour and chiaro-oscuro by copying for Lord Dysart, who was desirous of having duplicates of some of his family pictures, many of the chefs-d'oeuvres of Sir Joshua Reynolds. Some of his admirers regretted this employment of his time ; but however original may have been his genius he certainly profited by the study of the pictures he was deputed to copy. JOHN CONSTABLE. 83 In 1808 he again contributed three pictures to the Royal Academy, entitled " Borrowdale," " A Scene in Cumberland," and " Windermere Lake ; " and in 1809 an additional three, under the head of " Landscape." About this time he turned his attention to sacred subjects ; but neither his "Christ Blessing Little Children," which he painted as an altar-piece for Brantham Church, near Bergliolt, nor his single half- figure of "The Saviour Blessing the Bread and Wine," which was intended for IsTeyland Church, was of sufficient promise to warrant his continued exertions in this style. He managed in the last- mentioned picture to introduce some very agreeable effects of colour by blending purple with brownish yellow in the draperies, as a substitute for the ordinary blue and red j but the artistic deficiencies are so great, that it is evident he must have submitted to a long course of instruction before he could hare succeeded in sacred subjects. He was, therefore, right to devote all his energies to the attainment of excellence in that style for which he was by nature and education so well adapted. Constable made at this time the acquaintance of John Jackson, and the intimacy which soon sprang up between the artists afterwards ripened into a firm and lasting friendship. He v/as also on very good terms with Wilkie, to whom he sat for the head of the physician in the picture of "The Sick Lady<" There were many points of sympathy between the Scotch painter and Constable which drew them together, and made them appreciate their mutual worth. Constable was much in need of the advice and consolation of friends, for although he was making rapid progress in his profession, and the public were beginning to acknowledge his merit, he was for many years destined to sue in vain for the hand of the young lady who was the object of his tender and constant attachment. Miss Maria Bicknell, the lady to whom we allude, was the daughter of Charles Bicknell, Esq., Solicitor to the Admiralty, and granddaughter, on her mother's side, to the Bev. Dr. Bhudde, Rector of Bergholt, where Constable's acquaintance with her had commenced as early as the year 1800, v/hile she was yet a child. The attachment Avas mutual, but the parents of Miss Bicknell objected to what they considered a mesalliance for their • child, since Constable, who could scarcely be said to have ariy decided profession, was inferior both in birth and fortune to the daughter of the Admiralty Solicitor. The epistolary correspondence between the lovers during the five years of delay — which the oppo- sition of Miss Bicknell's friends, and above all of her grandfather, Dr. Bhudde, whom Mr. Bicknell, for pecuniary reasons, was most unwilling to offend, occasioned in their happiness — contains a deeply interesting history of this period of the artist's life. The various alternations of hope and fear, of doubt and disappointment, told visibly on Constable's health, and his predisj^osition to melancholy is evident from the following paragraph in a letter addressed to Miss Bicknell about the end of 1814 : "At the same time that I received your letter," he says, " I had one from my mother, so amusing that I long to show it to you. It is quite a journal of the time I was with them; though she regrets, at the end, that my natural propensity to escape from notice should have so much increased upon me." The reply of Miss Bicknell was sensible, affectionate, and encouraging. " It appears strange," she wites, " that a professional man should shun society. Surely it cannot be the way to promote his interest. Why you should no longer be anxious for fame is what I cannot comprehend. It is paying me a very ill compliment. If you loish to remain single, it may do very well. We shall return t6 town next Tuesday. I trust the following day, if it shoiild be tolerably fine, to have the pleasure of seeing the recluse in St. James' s-park about twelve o'clock j if not, the following day at the same hour." Next year Constable lost his mother, whose pride had long been centred in her son, and who had felt his joys and sorrows, hopes and disappointments, as though they had been her own. Curious to relate, Miss Bicknell lost her mother not many days after the death of Mrs. Constable. His father, who had long been ailing, and to whose precarious state of health, and the wearing an!xiety it occasioned his wife, may be attributed her premature death, did not long survive his attentive and affectionate helpmate. He died of dropsy about the middle of May, 1816. But fortune had some compensation in store for the accumulated sorrows with which Constable had been affiicted. Miss Bicknell, finding that her father refused to relent, and that she gained nothing by any further concessions, determined at last to marry without his consent. She was now twenty-nine years of age, and quite capable of judging for herself on so important a point. These two interesting and constant lovers were married at St. Martin's Church, on the 2nd of October, 1810, by a Mr. Fisher, a friend of Constable, who had used his JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. THE CORN FIELD. PROM A PAINTING BY JOHN CONSTABLE, R.A. influence with Miss Bicknell in persuading her to reward, by her acceptance of him, the long and unchanging devotion of her suitor. The marriage of Constable with Miss Bicknell created a complete and most propitious change in his prospects and position. The father of the bride could not long withhold his forgiveness from a darling JOHN CONSTABLE. 85 TTIK FARM OF Tnii; VALLKY, FKOM A I'AINTlNO BY JOHN CONSTABLE, R.A. child, who, during live miserable years, had sacrificed her own inclinations to a sense of duty ; and although Dr. Rhudde, the grandfather, was rather more difficult to propitiate, he left her at his death, which occurred about three years after her marriage, the unexpected legacy of £4,000. In November, 1810, Constable, who had long been a regular and copious contributor to the 86 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. Exhibitions of the Royal Academy, was elected an Associate of that honourable fraternity. On this memorable occasion he received the folloAving note from Mr. Fisher : — Close, Salisbury, November, 1819. — My dear Constable, — The Bishop and Mrs. Fisher bid me, Avith my own, to j)resent their congratulations on your honourable election. Honourable it is, for the Eoyal Academy is, in the first place, an establishment of this great country, and as such, to be held in great resj^ect ; and, in the second place, you owe your election to no favour, but solely to your unsupjDorted, unpatronised merits. I reckon it no small feather in my cap that I have had the sagacity to find them out." In 1822 Constable contributed to the Exhibition of the Koyal Academy five pictures, — " Hamp- stead Heath," " A Yiew on the Stour, near Dedham," " Malvern Hill, Warwickshire," " A View of the Terrace, Hampstcad," and a " Study of Trees from Nature." From a letter addressed to his friend Fisher, we find that in the year 1823 he was already the father of two sons and two daughters, and that his professional progress was considerably impeded by the cares and interruptions inseparable from the matrimonial state. " What with anxiety, watching, nursing, and my own indisposition, I have not seen the face of my easel since Christmas ; and it is not the least of my troubles that the good Bishop's picture is not fit to be seen." But although Constable, like the rest of his sufiering race, was doomed to experience the truth of the saying, " that there is no happiness without alloy," his letters to his wife from Cole-Orton prove how sincere and constant was his attachment to his wife, and how great and enduring were the blessings he enjoyed through his alliance with her. "THE LOCK." In 1825 he painted his celebrated picture of "The Lock," from which our engraving is coj^ied. Speaking of this chef-d'ceuvre, he says, " My ' Lock ' is now on my easel. It is silvery, windy, and delicious ; all health, and the absence of everjrthing stagnant, and is wonderfully got together. ^ The print will be fine." L W. Eeynolds, the celebrated engraver, who was an admirable judge of pictures, endorsed the estimate which the artist had formed of his own production. Writing to Constable on the subject, he says : "I have, since the arrival of your picture, been before it for the last hour, the light of a cheerful day through the clear windows falling full upon it. It is no doubt the best of your works ; true to nature j seen and arranged with a professor's taste and judgment. The execution shows in every part a hand of experience ; masterly without rudeness, and complete without littleness. The colouring is sweet, fresh, and healthy ; bright, not gaudy ; but deep and clear. Take it for all in all, since the days of Gainsborough and Wilson, no landscape has been jDainted with so much truth and originality, so much art, so little artifice." The following year (1826) Constable, having laid aside for a time his large picture, "Waterloo," with which he was proceeding slowly, commenced a subject more congenial to his taste, entitled "THE CORNFIELD," which, when finished, v^as exhibited at the Boyal Academy. Speaking himself of this picture, from which our engraving is copied, he says : " I have despatched a large landscape to the Academy, upright, of the size of ' The Lock,' but a subject of a very different nature. Inla.nd cornfields and a close lane forming the foreground. It is not neglected in any part. The trees are more than usually studied : the extremities well defined, as well as the stems. They are shaken by a pleasant as well as healthful breeze at noon — * While now a fresher gale Sweetens with shadowy gusts the fields of corn/ &c. &c. I am not without my anxieties, though I have not neglected my work, or been sparing of my pains." After the death of Constable this picture Avas purchased by the admirers of his genius, and presented to the National Gallery in the year 1837. The large picture of " Salisbury from the Meadows" had been selected, on account of its magnitude, subject, and grandeur of treatment, as best suited to a public collection ; but the majority of Constable's admirers decided that the boldness of its execution JOHN CONSTABLE. 87 rondered it less likely to address itself to the general taste than the picture of " The CornfiekV which was in consequence selected in its stead. Tn the autumn of 1828, Mrs. Constable, who had long been suffering from pulmonary consumption, became so alarmingly worse, that her husband began to despair of her recovery. In the September preceding the November in which she breathed her last, he writes to Mr. D. Cobiaghi : "I aan greatly unhappy at my dear wife's illness. Her progress towards amendment is sadly slow ; but still they tell me she does mend. Pray God this be the Case ; I iam much worn with anxiety." And in a note to Mr. J. Lane, dated October : " My dear wife continues much the same ; I do hope she is not w^orse, and home may do wonders." His hopes were doomed to be disappointed. Mrs. Constable's sufferings, which she had enduved with that entire resignation to the will of Providence which she had shown under every circumstance of hei' life, ended at last in her premature and much lamented death. She expired on the 23rd of November, 1828, leaving a broken-hearted husband and a family of sorrowing children to grieve over their irremediable loss. Constable snvvived his wife eight years, but existence for him had lost its charm ; and although he still continued to paint, and the honours and emoluments of his profession came thick and fast wpon him, he had no longer any one to feel that engrossing sympathy in his fortunes which made success doubly dear to hini, In 1829 he was elected a Member of the Royal Academy. Much as he was pleased at the attain- ment of a distinction which ought to have been conferred upon him at a much earlier period of his life, he could not help remarking, " It has been delayed until I am solitary, and cannot impart it," *^THB FARM OF THE VALLEY," of which our engraving is a faithful copy, was painted by Constable in April, 1835. Speaking of this, his last great masterpiece, he says : " I have got my picture into a very beautiful state. I have kept my brightness without spottiness, and I have preserved God Almighty's daylight, which is enjoyed by ail mankind, excepting only the lovers of old dirty canvas, perished pictures at a thousand guineas each, cart-grease, tar, and snuff of candle. Mr. called to see my picture, and did not like it at all, so I am sure there is something good in it. Soon after Mr. Yernon called, and bought it, having never seen it before in any state." This beautiful painting was the only work Constable sent to the Exhibition of the Royal Academy in the year 1835. The subject was taken from a sketch which he had in early life taken of Willy Scott's house, and he had the good luck of securing on this occasion the unbought approval of some of tlie newspaper critics. , "OSMINGTON SHORE, NEAR WEYMOUTH." The picture from which our engraving is taken was a much earlier production than either of the foregoing. It was exhibited for the first time at the British Gallery, in 1819. It has all the pecu- liarities of Constable's style-^solemn, lowering skies, and a poetical shade in the colouring of the landscape, which soothes while it saddens the spectator. Constable was a frequent visitor at Osmington, where his old and constant friend Fisher resided. In writing to him from the scene of this picture. Fisher gives an acscount of a strange and sudden death. "My dear Constable," says he, "I am here paying the last duties to. my wife's mother. She died silently and suddenly on Monday morning, at three o'clock. Ra,ther a singular accident happened to me in consequence of her death. I was in the church at Osmington with the old clerk alone, pointing out the site of her grave, when the old man suddenly exclaimed, 'I cannot stand, sir ! ' and, dropping into my arms, died." The Houses of Parliament were burnt on the 1 Gtli of October, 1834 ; and Constable, mth his two sons, watched the progress of the devouring element in a hackney-coach, from Westminster Bridge. A fortnight afterwards, while passing the evening with his friend Leslie, he drew, for the benefit of the company, an inkling, on half a sheet of paper, of Westminster Hall as it appeared during the conflagra- tion. On another half sheet he added the towers of the Abbey with that of St. Margaret's Church, 8{5 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. and the two papers together formed the most accurate and artistic sketch of the scene. It is thus that men of real genius can often produce more striking effects by a few strokes, drawn apparently at random, than inferior artists by their most elaborate efforts. We have said that Constable, though resigned to the will of Providence, was never consoled for the loss of his wife, whom he only survived eight years. Grief vmdermincs the constitution, and its i-avaging effects are not the less certain because they are secret and silent. One fa'al remombrance, one sorrow that throws Its bleak shade alike o'er our joys and our woes; To which life nothing brighter nor darker can bring, For which joy has no balm and affliction no sting," had saddened the tenor of his life. His friends, Fisher and Dunthorne, had preceded him on their voyage to the invisible shore, • and he had " seen, from life's shining circle, the gems drop away." Leslie, who knew him well, says of liim, in March, 1837, a few days before his sudden illness and death : jo:i:t cassell'S art treasures exhibition. pO JOiiN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIDITIOX. '•If intiinate friends were ijiit imperfectly acquainted v.dtli the real state of liis feeiingSj tliose who kjicv/ liiiii hut sli^^-htly, and who seldom saw him, unless surrounded by smiles of his own crea,ting, could liot h.ave believed how much he was now a prey to melancholy and anxious thoughts — thoughts, no doubt, in part both the cause and effect of declining health. On the 30tli of March, 1837, he attended a general assembly of the Royal Academy, and the whole of the next day he was busily engaged in finishing a picture of " Arundel Mill and Castle " for the ensuing exhibition. He walked out in the evening, returned about nine o'clock, ate a hearty supper, and, feeling chilly, had his bed warmed. lie read himself to sleep, but soon awoke in great pain, and called to his son, who had just returaied from the theatre. Some rhubarb and magnesia, which he took without medical advice, produced sickness ; i^^d when a neighbouring practitioner, of the name of Michele, arrived, he was in a fainting fit. The si;rgeon immediately ordered some brandy, but before it could be produced Constable had expired. There yas a 2'>ost-mortem examination by Pro- fessor Partridge ; but, strange to say, no traces of disease coiU^ be discovered sufiicient to occasion death. The sudden extinction of life was probably owing to th+e exhausting ravages of that indefinite and insidious complaint known to the faculty by the name of "a fret of nerve." He was buried by the side of his wife, in a vault in Hampstead Churchyard ; ai^d the tablet which bears the touching and beautiful inscription he had himself chosen for her ^pi^ajp*^^, Qovers the remains of husband and wife : — Eheu quam tenui e filo ^,|^|e| Qtiiquid in vit^ maxime arn(iet. Mr. Andrew Robertson, in speaking of Constable's artistic ^lerits, remarks : — " He had his pecu- liarities, but they were not in conceptiori, nor \\x the yray ipt which he looked at nature ; he saw clearly, and not through a glass darkly, nor tl^^o^'^ol^ other, pien's eyes. His peculiarities were only in his execiitiqn, and in the admirably yicj^^r.^ ^elected for. l:^is iiionument in the jSTational Gadlery (viz., the ' Cornfield,' vide page 84), Ave finci ^ trutll ^Q^ception, with less of the manner that was objected to than in most of his later works.'' Constable's benevolence ^y^yS ^ctive and discriminating, Numerous instances are recorded of it, and ii, as we fully believe, thos^, ^j^o give to the poor lend unto the Lord, he had laid up for himself treasure in Heaven, "where neither. i^oi)i nor rust corrupts, nor thieves break through and steal." Like Hogarth, whom he greatly resembled iii character, he incurred the imputation of vanity ; but this we attribute more to the ei^itiiit^^, c>f cpnte:^^|DC>]p,|^V^ ^^r.tis^S, whose works he criticised with freedom and impai'tiahty, than to any re|^sonaj)![e grouuc^s, fo^y, |he accusation. He ■>yas a man of highly refined mind, ^.r^d possessed a decided tas|,e fc^r music and poetry, although the engrossing nature of the pursuit to which he devoted his whole tiine_, preyented his cultivating the sister arts. The four lectures which he delivered at the Royal InstitpL||qii on {\ '^phe History of !|jandscape Painting," prove that he had attained considerable p^^^ciency in liteji^ry Qpi^jjosition. Constable's last le,C!|iire was delivered at Hampstead, on the %6i\\ July, 1836. The subject was Landscape, generally. It was addressed to the Literary and Scientific Institution of that place, and as it contaius several important and origi:|ial v.eiifiarks, and was, moreover^ the last instructions he over gave on a pursuit to which he had deyoied his whole life, we will quote £i few of his most striking sentences. "The difterence," said he, "between tlie ju4gments pronounced by meii who have given their lives to a particular study, and by those who have attended to that sti^dy as the amusement only of a few leisure hours, may be thus illustrated. I will imagine two disjies, p^^ae of gold, the other of wood. The golden dish is filled with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, and chains, rings, and brooches of gold, while the other, contains shell-fish, stones, and earth. The&ie fishes aye offered to the world, Avho choose the first; it is afterwards discovered that the dish itself is ^lii^ copper gilt, the diamonds are paste, the rubies and emeralds painted glass, and the chains, rings, &c., counterfeits. In the mean- time, the naturalist has taken the wooden dish, for he knows that the shell-fish are pearl oysterSj and he sees that among the stones are gems, and mixed wdth the earths are the ores of the precious metals. The young painter who, regardless of present popularity, would leave a name behind him, must become the patient pupil of nature. If we refer to the lives of all Avho have dis- tinguished themselves in art or in science, we shall find that they have always been laborious. The J. M. W. TUrvNER. 91 lan'-hoapc-piiijitcr ]nusb walk in the fields with an iiiimble mind. No arrogant man v/as eA^cr permitted to 808 nature in all her beauty. If I may be allowed to use a very solemn quotation, I would say most cinpliatically to the student, ' Eemember now thy Creator in the d-ays of thy youth.' The friends of a young artist should not look or hope for precocity. It is often disease only. Quinctilian makes use of a beautiful simile in speaking of precocious talent. He compares it to the forward ear of corn that turns yellow and dies before the harvest. Precocity often leads to criticism, — sharp and severe, as the feelings are morbid from ill-health. Lord Bacon says vdien a young man becomes ti critic, he will find much for his amusement, little for his instruction. The young artist must receive with deference the advice of his elders, not hastily questioning wdiat he does not yet understand, otherwise his maturity will bear no fruit. The Cvrb of seeing nature is ^ thing almost as much to be acquired as the art of reading the Egyptian hieroglyphics. The Chinese have painted for two thousand years, and have not cL'scovered that there is such a thing as chiaro-oscuro." But the great beauty of Constable's lectures was, they were suited to the audience, and applicable to the circumstances under which they were delivered. Even his own notes cannot convey to his readers any of the charm of his musical voice, or of the beautiful manner in which he read his quotations, whether of prose or of poetry. The play of his expressive features added to the effect of his eloquence^ and impressed upon his audience the wisdom of his instructions. J. M. W. TURNER, E.A. F all the landscape painters of modern times, Turner is, perkaps, the man whose productions have been the subject of the greatest controversy— of the most prejudiced criticism, on the one hand, and of the most exaggerated panegyric, 6n the other. Th^ ^re-iiilpliaelite school, with Ruskin as their spokesman, have raised Turned '6ii a pinnacle, from whence he looks down on Claude Lorraine, De WitL% 'aM Coiisl^ble. Our readers will judgfe 6f the degree to Avhich this Turner-t\'oi''skip has been carried by the folio v,dng quotation from that part Ruskin's "M'odei^ii Painters" entitled "Finish." Discussing the liierit of what he calls " ineffable organic beauty," Ruskin remarks : " How far Tunier followed it, is not easily shovm ; for liis niiish is so delicate as to be nearly uncopiable. 1 have just said it was not possible to finish that ash4runk of his (alluding to a sketch of an ash) farther on such a scale. By using a inagnifyihg glas^, and giving the same help to the spectator, it might, perha.ps', be possible to add and exhibit a more details ; but even as it is, I cannot by line engraving express all tha-t there is iii that piece of tree-trlmk on the same scale. I have, therefore, magnified the upper part rif it, so that the reader may bfettei? see the beautiful lines of curvature into which even its slightest shades and spots are cast. (Ruskin illustrates his rem^ark with the engraving of the upper ^art of Turner's tree niCagnified.) lEvery quarter of dti iiicli of Turner's dra^ngs will bear inagiiifying iii the same way. Much of the finer 1vbfk in them can hardly be traced, except by the keenest sight, until it is magnified. In his paiiitihg of ' Ivy Bridge ' the views are dra™ on the wirigs of a i3utterily, not above three lines iii diameter ; and in one of his smaller drawings of ' Scarborough,' in iiiy ovrn possession, the mussel shells on the beach are rounded, and s'oihe shown as sliiit, some sl^ bpen, though none are as large as one of the letters of tkis tyj^e ; and yet tkis is the liian w-ho ^vas thought to belong to the ' dashing ' school, literally because pedjire have not J)atierib'e ot delicacy of sight enough to trace his endless detail." T1io3c of our readers who ate at all accjuainted with Turner' f3 iatet prodtictioiis; ^yili |)el''ceive tkat there hi in this a degfee of Turner-worship almost amounting to superstition, aiid difttcUlt t'6 t-'e'cBftcile with the otiietwise clear and airtistic view which Ruskin takes of nioderii paintei"^. Tiijxt ^iirn'er was ari artist of ori^iHitl geiiili^j aii(t tlisit even his most carelessly eie'cut'ed piebes ^itbtfe tHB ^Bi; lio otie is CASCAPE OF TEKNI. FROM A I'AINTlNa EV J. n. W. 'lURNEU, E.A. J. M. W. TURNER. Mi» Lnjraving Ij WUmore, K.A.E .inthe Art Trcacunt Exhihilion) 94 JOHN CASSELL'S ART THEASUEES EXH1I3ITI0N. now disposed to doubt ; but tliat his cliefs-cVo&uvre are either more true to nature, more artistic, or more pleasing than those of Claude Lorraine, Constable, or De Wint, Mr. Ruskin v/ill find as difhcidt to prove as that Tennyson atid Browning are greater })oets than Pope, Byron, Campbell, or Scott. Joseph Mallord William Tur^^ek, Avhose bequest to the country of some of Iiis finest master- pieces has so greatly enriched btir national collection of pictures, was sprung from the lovv^er ranks of the people. His father was a hair-dresser by trade, and the artist was born in a mean little dwelling in Maiden-lane, CoVent Garden, some time in the spring of the year 1775. We possess but few details of his early history, for the habits of the man were so reserved and tincommunicative, that his biographer lias to trust rather to hearsay and probabilities than to any authentic sources for his information. sWe are toM ttet tlie first indication he gave of any decided talent for drawing was in copying very correctly the lion Avhich formed part of an emblazoned coat-of- ariiis which he saAv lying on a table in the hbitse of gentlemaii where his father Vv^as occupied in the kitties of his calling. The praise awa.rded to his lion encouraged liim to make further efforts, and from copyiiig draAvings ii'e 6bbn took to copying nature. For this purpose he made frequent excursions into the fields about iibiidon, which som.e sixty or seventy years ago offered mahy inbre attmctions to the landscape-painter than they do at the present time. His father, who, although a hair-dresser, was a mail of reason and discerlliiieht, offered no resistance to his son's inclinations. His proficiency in drawing was soon a source of profit to him. A mezzotint engraver recognising his skill, eniployed him to colour prints for him at so much a piece. A short time afterwards, we hear of kiiii as a teacher of drawing in schools at five shillings a lesson, and as his reputation among his piupils rose, he was able to increase liis charge to ten shillings, and finally to a guinea an hour. He also entered into engagements with publishers to illustrate their Avorks, and during an excursion which he made to Oxford he Avas employed by the proprietors of the " Oxford Almanack " to make views, Avhich he driBAv so Avell that they attracted the notice of many of llie most distinguished members of the tjniversity. At the early age of thirteen he entered as a student of the Koyal Academy, and in tAto years cbhtributed a picture, called the Yiew of the Archbishop's Pakee at Lambeth, Avhich Avas accepted and exhibited. It Avas a water-colour drawing. In the course of ten years from the date of liis admissionj he exliibited no less than fifty-nine pictures, and in the year 1800 he Avas elected as an associate: It is to this part of his life that Rtiskin alludes AAdien he says that "Turner liaAdng suffered under the instruction of the Eoyal Academy, had to pass nearly thirty j^ears of his life in recoveriiig from its consequences. Prom the beginning he was led into constrained and unnatural error ; diligbhtly debarred from every help to success. The one thing Avhich tlie Academy ought to have taught himj viz., the simple and safe use of oil colours, it never taught him ; but it carefully repressed his pei'eeptions bf ti-uth, his capacities of inA^entioiij and his tendencies of choice. It Avas impossible for him tb do right but ih a sf)irit of defiance ; and the first condition of his progress in learning Avas the jiower to forget. The history diid poetry which he studied at the age Avhen the mind receives its dearest associations Avere accounts of the gods and nations Ibiig ago, and his models of is^iitiiiient and style Were the last wrecks bf the Renaissance affectations. " Tlierefore (though utterly free from affectation), his early works are fidl of an enfbrced artincial- ii'ess, and of things ill-done and ill-conceived, because foreign to his own instincts, and tliroughout life Mdiatever he did because he thought he ought tb do it V/as Avrong ; all that he planiied on any principle, or in supposed obedience to canons of taste, was false and abortive : he bhly did right A\ hen he ceased to reflect ; Was poAverful only Avhen he made no ieffort, and successful only Avhen he had taken no aim. "And it is one of the most interesting thiiigS ebhnected with the study of his art, to AVatch the way iii which his oAvn strength of English instinct brfedfes gi^dually through fetter and formalism. How from Egerian Avells he starts aAvay to Yorkshire streamlets. Hoav frbm Homeric rocks, Avitli laurels at the top and caves at the bottom, he climbs at last to Alpiiie pirecipibes, ft-inged Avith pine and fortified with the slopes of their bWri rivers. And how from Tehiples bf jhbit^r ?.\y\ Gardens of the Hesperides a spirit in his feet gdidifis him at last to the lonely arche.l' of Whitbtr aHd bleak sands of Holy'lsle." J. M. W. TURNER. 9.5 ''THE CASCADE OF TERNL" 111 tliis beautiful loaliaii view we see an illustration of the truth of Raskin's criticism. Bofora Turner could have contrived to represent the basin of the fall so blue and dim as we see it, a^iid arched by a rainbov/, he must effectually, although, perhaps, unconsciously, have emancipated himseli from the iron bondage of routine. He has not followed, in the masterpiece from which our engraving is copied, the example of Ms predecessors, in mxaking the water of the cascade an active agent in its own descent. Water may leap with a springing, parabolic curve over a stone; but it tumbles down a fall like any Qt^ie;' cl^acl? liesivy weight. When, however, the motion of the element has been accelerated by tumbling d^Q^jQ, % precipice, it leaps over the first obstacle it meets, and again over the second with increased moiiieiitu^^ but when it commences its onward course in the bed of a river, it has none of the impulse which enables it to bound over impediments ; but gurgling round the rocks or stones in its path, it rests in the alternate hollows, and then again continues its journey. The success of Tur:fte,r's early pictures gave hira the means of travelling, and thus of profiting by the study of the productions of the great masters of the Dutch and Italian schools of landscape. " The Dutch school," £is Ruskin rema-rks, " was more or less natural ; the Italian, more or less elevated, but absurd. There "^yias," adds the author of "Modern Painters," "a certain foolish elegance in Claude, and a dull dign^tj ^^^P^-T I*QV^ssin ; but then their work resembled nothing that ever existed in the world. On the contrary, a canal or cattle piece of Cuyp's had many beauties about it, but they were at best truths of the ditch £\nd dairy." Between absurdity and vulgarity, therefore, Turner had to steer his way by the lig^it of l^s ow^ genius, and create the only true school of landscape which had yet existed. " If we look fox'. iife/' says Ruskin, " we mixst pass from the last b.ndscape of Tintoret to the first of Turner." "ARGUS All^ ADONIS." In this landscape we see thq proof of the just appreciation Ruskin had formed of Turner s powers. The composition of the picture is in Claude Lorraine's style, for his mind had been warped by the futilities of his celebrated predecessor s conceptions ; but much as he was weakened or corrupted by the study of the Clau^e,sque landscape, and lifeless, conventional, and even foolish as are his compositions when he is working according to rule, he becomes at once noble and inspired when Nature in all her nicijesty overpqwers the reminiscences of his master. The mannerism which is observable in the painting from which our engraving is taken, and which may be traced in all of our artist's productions, was attributable more tpl, study of Claude than to the influence of Gaspar or Nicolo Poussin. Nicolo Poussin mig^it l^ave giyen life to the Italian school of landscape, had not his Roman education obstructed his progress. He had greg^t powers of design, and much originality of style ; but his imita- tors who adopted Iiis nianner l;iad iieither his skill nor his invention, and the Italian landscape in consequence languished and e:^pired. But from the Dutch masters, Cuyp, De Hooghe, and Rembrandt, Turner learnt piuch which iieutralised the idealisms of Claude. He painted many pieces in imitation of these masters. His studies of Putch boats in calm weather and smooth water rival the best pro- ductions of C.uj^|)j |^c| are lio^)le ^T^d healthy pieces. "KIRKSTALL ABBEY." The subject of the painting from which our engraving is copied belonged to the order of the Benedictine MQnks^ and -y^^as founded in 1157, by Henry de Lacy, a Norman knight. It stood on the banks o| the Airq, aiiiiid scenery wild au(l picturesque. The landscape is in Turner's best style. It has many of the beauties of Claude, with yery few of his defects. At first Turner had found it impossible to imitate the sunsliine, which he loved for its own sake. Other things he managed with less technical difiiculty, but the golden haze, so beautifully pictured in " Kirkstall Abbey," was for a long time a mystery in the art of painting which he admired in Claude, but could not imitate. Ho never quite fathomed the secret of Claude's way of laying on his oil colour, and this may probably be owing to the fact that certam principles useful in the management of paint, of which we are now ignorant, had been handed down to Claude from the Venetians. Turner, however, after much attentive study and deep reflection, discovered a manipulation of his own, whicli enabled ]iim to produce eflbcts of light almost as good as those he admired in Claude. 93 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. Turner was naturally active and industrious, habitually an early riser, and enthusiastically devoted to his profession. It is not, therefore, surprising that, in the course of a long life, he tainted more j)ictures than any artist of his time. The space we are able to devote to one master will not allow of our giving more than a limited number of specimens; but, in addition to those chefs-d'mmre from which our engravings are taken, the following paintings are justly celebrated : — "Echo," "Evening," ''The Thames at Eton," "The Thames at Windsor," " Chichester Canal," " Petworth Park," " Brighton Pier," " Tabley House and Lake," "The Gale at Sea," "The Festival at the Opening of the Vintage at Marva," "William III, landing at Torbay," " Stonehenge," &c. &c. In the Art Treasures Exhibition the paintings by Turner, contributed by various noblemen and gentlemen, are very numerous. " Pluto carrying away Proserpine," contributed by John Chapman, Esq.; " Dunstanborough Castle," by T. Birchall, Esq.; "Wreck of the JMinotaur, by the Earl of JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. 97 Yarborougli; "Cologne — the Arrival of a Packet Boat," by John Naylor, Esq.; "Sunrise — Mouth of the Thames," by William Wells, Esq.; " Dolbadarn Castle" (Turner's diploma picture, exhibited 1799), by the Royal Academy; "Saltash," by J. Miller, Esq. ; "Highland Bridge," by ditto; small Sea-piece, by Miss B. Coutts; "River Scene — Fishermen," by Sir P. M. De Grey Egerton; "Barnes Terrace, on the Thames," by Samuel Ashton, Esq. ; Coast Scene, by F. T. Rufford, Esq. ; " Walton Bridge, on the Thames," by J. Gillott, Esq. ; " Henley House, on the Thames," by J. Miller, Esq. ; " Van Tromp," ditto ; " Tabley Lake and Tower," by Lord De Tabley ; " Sun rising through Yapour," l)y John Chapman, Esq. The engravings from his pictures are also numerous. We have been thus particular in enumerating these chefs-d'oeuvre, because the recent criticisms upon our artist's works by the author of " Modern Painters," and the magnificent bequest to the country of his gallery of paintings, have made Turner an object of great national interest. MOUTH OF THE HUMBER, FROM A PAINTING BY J. M. W. TURNER, R.A. Notwithstanding his acknowledged genius and his brilliant success, Turner had few friends. He was so reserved in his manners, and threw, moreover, such a veil of mystery over all his proceedings, that intimacy with him was almost an impossibility. His great anxiety seems ever to have been to conceal the means by which he produced his wonderful effects. He never would suffer any one to enter his studio; and at Petworth, while on a professional visit, he kept the door closed against every one but Lord Egremont himself. Chaiitry, however, who had bribed a servant to tell him the secret consigne, or peculiar knock, by which his lordship signified his presence, managed by imitating it to gain admittance; and we have been told that it was a long time before Turner would forgive tho sculptor for the ruse he had so successfully practised upon him. He was most reserved on the subject of his age and birthday, and never would consent to have his likeness taken, except on one occasion, when, quite a young man, he sat for one of a series of portraits of members of the Royal Academy. In appearance he was coarse and ungainly, and no one unacquainted with his extraordinary genius could have ffuessed that so rouQ;h an exterior could couceal such a mine of intellectual wealth. 13 03 JOHN CASSELL'S AUT TREASURES EXHIBITION. His later works have been the subject of much criticism on account of their indistinctness ; ])ut the best judges of art discover in them excellencies which are imperceptible to the uninitiated eye. Of his magnificent bequest to the nation, now exhibited in the Vernon Gallery, the most remarkable are " The Temeraire towed to her last Berth," " The Death of Nelson," " The Burial of Wilkie," and " The Frosty Morning." He was extremely parsimonious in his way of living ; and amassed in consequence, during his long, successful, and active life, a sum exceeding £100,000. He died on the 33rd of December, 1851, in an obscure lodging in Chelsea, where, for some reason which none can appreciate, he had long lived in obscurity under a feigned name. By his will, he directed that the whole of his property should be expended in the erection of alms- houses for the benefit of unfortunate and meritorious artists, with the exception of ^1,000, which was to be set apart for a monument to be raised to his own memory in connection with the almshouses. He was buried on the 30th of December, 1851, in St. Paul's Churchyard, by the side of Sir Joshua Beynolds, and close to Barry and Sir Christopher Wren. ♦'THE MOUTH OF THE HUMBER." The striking and highly finished painting from which this engraving is copied, illustrates the truth of many of Buskin's remarks upon Turnerian topogography. " I think I shall be sMe to show," he says, "that whenever Turner really tried to compose and make modifications of his subjects on jirin- ciple, he did wrong and spoiled them .; and that he only did right in a kind of passive obedience to his first vision, that vision being composed primarily of the strong memory of the place itself which he had to draw ; and secondarity, of memories of other places (whether recognised as such by himself or not, I cannot tell), associated in a harmonious and helpful way Avith the new central thought. This," he tells us, " was the case with Dante, Scott, Turner, and Tintoret. Their imagination consisting not in a voluntary production of new images, but an involuntary remembrance, just at the right moment, of something they had actually seen. ''^ * Whether this be the case with all inventors or not, it was assuredly the case with Turner to such an extent that he seems never either to have lost or cared to disturb the impression made upon him by any scene, even in his earliest youth. He never seems to have gone back to a place to look at it again, but, as he gained power, to have painted it and repainted it as first seen, associating with it certain new thoughts or new knowledge, but never shaking the central pillar of the old image. How far this manly power itself acted, merely in the accumula- tion of memories, remains, as I said, a question undetermined ; but, at all events, Turner's mirid is not more, in my estimation, distinguished above others by its demonstrably arranging and ruling faculties, than by its demonstrably retentive and • submissive faculties ; and the more I investigate it the moi'e this tenderness of perception and grasp of memory seem to me the root of its greatness." " The Mouth of the Humber " was no doubt painted in the way that Buskin describes. The scene had been lying fallow but not forgotten in Turner's mind, and what we here so much admire in the murky and blackening clouds, the castle and town in the distance, and the last rays of the setting sun streaming through the gathering storm, was "not a voluntary production of new images, but an involuntary remembrance, exactly at the right moment, of something he had actually seen." "FISHINa BOAT IN A STORM." The original is a painting after the manner of Yandervelde, who once had a great reputation for sea pieces. The sea is too gray — the fault of all Turner's seas. The opaqueness of the water is also characteristic of the Dutch painter, whose mannerism he retained to the last, although he greatly improved upon the poorness of Yandervelde's form of waves by raising their divided surfaces into inassive surge, and effecting other changes. TURNER'S MERITS. Turner was not only an original genius, but he originated a new era in painting. Though he was not- himself a disciple of any particular school, from him Pre-Raphaelitism borrows its distinctness and characteristic finish. We cannot better explain our meaning than by quoting from "Modern Painters" a short summary of Turner's merits. "He who is closest to nature," says Buskin, "is best. All rules are useless, all RICHARD WILSON. genius is useless, all labour is useless, if you do not give facts ; the more fiicts you <^ive the greater you are, and there is no foot so unimportant as to be prudently despised, if it be possible to represent it. I have heard querulous readers asking *how it was possible' that I could praise Pre-Raphaelitism and Turner also. Erom the beginning I have never praised Turner highly for any other cause than that he gave facts more delicately, more Pre-Raphaelitically, than other men. Careless readers, who dashed at the descriptions and missed the arguments, took up their own conceptions of the cause of my liking Turner, and said to them.selves, ' Turner cannot draw ; Turner is generalising, vague, visionary; and the Pre-EajDhaelites are hard and distinct. How can any one like both?' But / never said that Turner could not draw. / never said that he was vague or visionary. What / said was that nobody had ever drawn so well— that nobody was so certain, so unvisionary- — that nobody liad ever given so many hard and downright facts. / said he is the only painter who ever drew a mountain or a stone — the only painter who can di-aw the stem of a tree — the only -painter who has ever drawn the sky, previous artists having only drawn it typically or partially, but he absolutely and universally. Note how 1 have praised him in his rock drawing for not selecting a pretty or interesting morsel here or there, but giving the whole truth with all the relation of its parts. "* * Thus, then, all I have isaid is absolutely consistent, and tending to one sunple end. Turner is praised for his truth and finish; Pre-Raphaelitism is praised for its truth and finish; and the vv^hole duty inculcated upon the artist is that of being in all respects as like nature as possible." Buskin is undoubtedly a somewhat partial advocate of his favourite master; but his judgment has^ in all essential points, been corroborated by the opinion of connoisseurs and the votes of the public. MCHARD WILSON, R.A. ICHARI) WILSON, the celebrated landscape painter, was the third son of a Welsh clergyman. On his mother's side, he was descended from the Wynns of Leeswold, a family of great antiquity in the principality of Wales, and who reckoned among their progenitors some of the Silurian kings. The exact date of his birth is unknown ; but, according to Wright, who is the only authority we have for our facts, he drew his first breath some time in the year 1713. Like Reynolds and Gainsborough, he early displayed a taste for art. As a child, he delighted in tracing in rough outline with a burnt stick upon the walls of his father's house the figures of men and animals. We know but little of his history during the many years in which he Avas struggling into notice. A certain Sir George Wynn^ a relation of his mother, recognising in his early efforts the promise of better things, took him to London, and apprenticed him (if we may use the expression) to an obscure portrait painter of the name of Wright. His progress, under such circumstances, was of course slow * and we hear of but few remarkable incidents in his life until, at the age of tliirty-five, he was so far distinguished as to be employed to paint a picture of the Prince of Wales and the Duke of York for their tutor, the Bishop of Norwich. As a portrait painter, however, he had but little chance of achieving any permanent success. His productions in this style have not stood the test of time, and as they are now all forgotten oT destroyed, we may fairly presume that they did not much surpass in merit the miserable daubs of tin artists of the age. Edwards, indeed, asserts that even in portrait painting he far excelled all his '»n- temporarieSj and that " liis colouring was in the style of Rembrandt." It was, however, in an entirely different way that he Avas destined to achieve for himself not merely a national but an European reputation. Assisted by some little aid from his friends, he mannged to accomplish, when about thirty- six years RICHARD WILSON. 101 MOKNINa. FROM A PAINTING BY RICHARD WILSON, R.A. old, the object to which he had for a long time been devoting the 2)roceeds of his labour — we mean a journey to that favoured land, " the mother of arts and arms." In Italy a fortuitous circumstance induced him to change, most suddenly, his whole style of painting. While waiting one morning for Zuccarelli, an Italian artist, under whose auspices he was 102 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASUKES EXHIBITION. improving his knowledge of colouring, lie painted the view of the country which he had from the win- dows of his friend's house, and with such skill and accuracy that Zuccarelli, wiien his eye lighted upon the performance, was so struck with it, that he advised Wilson to devote himself in future to land- scape painting, as that was evidently the style for which he had the greatest natural talent. Ternet, a French painter of eminence, indorsed the judgment of Zuccarelli, and proved the sincerity of his admiration of Wilson's genius by exchanging one of his own best pictures for a landscape painted by the English artist. So liberal indeed was this amiable and celebrated Frenchman in his expressions of commendation, that when English travellers — with that exclusive love which they all have for any- thing foreign — extolled his productious, he would say, with generous enthusiasm, " Don't talk of my landscapes alone when your own countryman Wilson paints so beautifully." Wilson's mind had long been unconsciously stored with all the resources of a successful landscape painter. The picturesque scenery of his native glens and mountains were deeply impressed upon his 'imagination ; and by studying the performances and mastering the method of the great masters of their art, he managed to impart to home scenery the beauty and splendour of Italian landscape. His pro- gress was so rapid, and his reputation as a landscape painter of excellence so early acknowledged, that he not only procured purchasers for his pictures, but pupils, who paid for his instructions. He returned to England after a six years' residence in Italy, conscious of his own powers and fully anticipating a favourable reception from the wealthy patrons of art in his own country. The genius, however, which is worshipped by posterity, is too often unappreciated in its own time. Wilson, with all the prestige of his Italian reputation, and with merits which, among the connoisseurs of a discriminating age, have immortalised his name, was never a favourite with his contemporaries. His " Tiew of Rome," and his picture of " Niobe," were so infinitely superior to the productions of any of the landscape painters of the day, that it was impossible for his brother artists, who envied his talent, to deny their merit. But though success in landscape painting may be more honourable, it is far less profitable than portrait painting. The one appeals only to the taste of the few, the other to the vanity of the many ; and Wilson found, to his mortification, that in relinquishing portrait painting, he had given Up a certain means of subsistence. For a few of his chefs-d' (zuvre he obtained purchasers; but the majority of his countrymen had as yet no appreciation of the beauties of landscape, and Wilson was in consequence subjected to the mortification of seeing pictures of exquisite skill and finisli exhibited for sale in vain. It was, therefore, with thankful eagerness that he accepted the situation of librarian to the Boyal Academy, an institution then in its infancy, and one at whose birth he himself had assisted. The proceeds of the place Avere small, but still very welcome to a man who, before he could make his art profitable, had to inspire his countrymen with a new taste. The prejudices in favour of the old style were so great, that Wilson had the pain of witnessing wretched daubs by Barrett and Smith of Chichester (well known artists of his time) painted in the style of a district surveyor, without originality, sentiment, or poetry, sold for extravagant prices, while his own exquisitely conceived and highly -finished productions were witliout a bidder. Want made him welcome with thankfulness the smallest gratuity, and it is reported that he painted his " Ceyx and Alcyone " for a pot of beer and the remains of a Stilton cheese. He was often indebted for a dinner to the small advances he obtained from pawnbrokers upon some of his finest paintings, and we know that a certain picture fancier, who had often been a customer, when urged by Wilson to purchase another landscape, took the impoverished artist into his shop-garret, and pointing to a pile of landscapes, said, " Why, look you, Dick, yon know T wish to oblige ; but see ! there are all the pictures I have paid you for these three years." It is not surprising that Wilson, whose merit society refused to ackiioAvledge, should care but little for society. He had no money to keep pace with the rich, and no patrons among the great and high- born. A few picture fanciers and pawnbrokers were his only customers ; and if his house Was ill appointed, his dress shabby or neglected, and his manners coarse and repulsive, the fault was more m his circumstances than in himself Reynolds, the pampered minion of fortune, the favourite of the fashionable world, hated, envied, and feared him. He not only seized every casual opportunity of depreciating his rival's merit, but even in his presidential lectures he attacked poor Wilson with safe and sly malignity. Sj)eakiug of " The Death of Niobe and her Children" one of Wilson's most celebrated chefs-cVmuvre, Sir Josli ua RICHARD WILSON. 103 says : — Our ingenious academician, Wilson, has, I fear, been guilty, like many of liis predecessors, of introducing gods and goddesses, ideal beings, into scenes which were by no means prepared to receive such personages. His landscapes were, in reality, too near common nature to admit supernatural objects. In consequence of this mistake, in a very admirable picture of a storm which I have seen of his hand, many figures were introduced in the foreground — some in apparent distress, and some sti'uck dead, as a spectator would naturally suppose, by the lightning, had not the painter, injudiciously, as I think, rather chosen that their death should be imputed to a little Apollo, who appears in the sky with his bent bow, and that these figui'es should be considered as the children of Niobe. The first idea that presents itself is that of wonder, in seeing a figure in so uncommon a situation as that in which the Apollo is placed ; fov the clouds on which he kneels have not the appearance of being able to support him," This criticism betrayed at once ignorance and m.alignity — ignorance of the mythological require- ments of the picture ; for as Niobe and her children are on earth, and their destroyer is in heaven, there was nothing out of place or out of character in introducing Apollo in the sky with his bent bow ; — ■ malignity, in ignoring the exquisite beauties of the picture, or only damning them with faint praise to dwell upon what he considered its defects. Even had the criticism been just, Reynolds was not the man who waa qualified to make it, for his tuft-hunting spirit was constantly prompting him to invest mth divine honours the most commonplace mortals if they had but a handle to their names. But ¥/ilson was poor and unappreciated ; and Keynolds could, therefore, attack him with impunity. On one remarkable occasion, however, Wilson had his revenge. At a dinner given to the members of the Hoyal Academy, Beynolds proposed the health of Gainsborough as the best landscape painter ; to which Wilson added, vfith that readiness of retort for which he was remarkable, and the best p)ortrait ^painter too. The president, vfho was much galled by this prompt revenge of his brother artist, pretended that he had not been aware of Wilson's presence. Wilson, however, estimated the apology at its proper value, and received it with a grumble of disapproval. The landscape painter was, imfortunately for himself, not a conciliatory person. Had he, like many of his contemporaries, condescended to flatter the president and do him homage, Eeynolds might have been propitiated ; as it was, the two artists were always at variance, and Wilson^ being the weaker of the two, had the worst of the strife. Want of success does not improve the temper; and poor Wilson, as he advanced in life, was much soured by disap- pointment. Still he was courted and loved by those in whose society he took pleasure. He was a constant guest ftt the house of Sir William Beechey, and although he always declined \vine or ardent spirits, he never despised a pot of porter and a toast. He was very abstemious in his meals, but would gladly accept of a glass of beer when he would refuse everything else. His love of truth and detesta- tion of anji:hing approaching to prevarication, often brought him into difficulties. When first he became acquainted with Sir W. Beechey, he inquired, with some anxiety, whether the young ladies of the family drew. " No, sir," ansv/ered the knight; "my daughters are musical." Had the Misses Beechey been draughtswomen, he would in all probability have declined the invitation of Sir William, as when drawings were shown him, he scorned to praise when he could not do so conscientiously. Reynolds, on the contrary, made himself everywhere popular by merely saying, "Pretty, pretty," when any sketches wei'e displayed before him, however deficient they might be in merit. " His process of painting was very simple," says his biographer; "his colours were few; he used but one bmsh, and worked standing. He prepared his palette, made a feAv touches, then retired to the window to refresh his eye with natural light, and returned in a few minutes and resumed his labours." He had a very clear perception of the value which posterity would attach to his masterpieces ; and although he seldom spoke of the future, when he did indulge in any prophecy he made use of terms about himself which the world has since ratified. " Beechey," said he, one day, to the king's painter, " you will live to see great prices given for my pictures, when those of Barrett will not fetch a farthing." Small as was the salary of librarian to the Royal Academy, it rescued Wilson from actual penury. As he advanced in years, he became less particular in his dress and habits. His means were indequate to the expenses of a whole house, and lie therefore retired into a cheap lodging in some obscure part of Tottenham Court Road, where, with a single room for all purposes, an easel, a brush, a hard bed, a chair and table, and his favourite pot of porter, he painted pictures which were to immortalise his name 104 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASUPvES EXHIBITION. when the rich and the powerful, who had not taste or soul to appreciate him, were for ever forgotten, and where he contemplated, in his present obscurity, on the fame which awaited his memory. He was, however, sometimes destitute even of the means of purchasing canvas and colour for his paintings. A young man of good family, but of slender fortune, had formed a friendship for Wilson, who^e talent he recognised, and whose profession he wished to follow. Anxious to do the neglected landscape painter a service, he recommended him to a lady who was seeking for first-rate pictures to adorn her vv^alls. The lady, pleased with the specimens she saw of Wilson's genius, commissioned him to paint her two pictures, of which she fixed the price, and then took her departure. When the coast was clear, Wilson said to his young friend, in a desponding tone, " Your kindness is all in vain ; I have no means of procuring either canvas or colour." The youth, who, though poor himself, had rich relations, proQured fgr thste, and call an officer To apprehend this Stygian sophiste^ . 124. JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. Meanwhile, I'll hold them at a day, Lest he and Whackum run away. But Sidrophel, who, from the aspect Of Hudibras, did now erect A figure worse portending far Than that of most malignant star. Believed it now the fittest moment To shun the danger that might come out, ONE OF THE STAGES OF CRUKLTr. FROM A PAINTING BY WILLIAM noGARTH, While Hudibras was all alone, And he and Whackum two to one. This being resolved, he spied by chance Behind the door an iron lance That many a sturdy limb had gored, And legs and loins and shoulders bored. He snatched it up and made a pass To make his way through Hudibras. Whackum had got a firelock With which he vowed to do his work. WILLIAM HOGARTH. 125 Hogarth and Butler had a kindred vein of satire, and if the painter and the poet had been con- temporaries, they might have played successfully into each other's hands. They had both the same enviable powers of satirising the vice without offending the individual, and of exposing folly without incurring the charge of seventy. They were both philanthropists of the highest order, for their shafts were levelled not at men but at manners — not at weak and erring humanity, but at the vices and follies of the age in which they lived. The poems of Butler, like the chefs-ctceuvre of Hogarth, have an European reputation ; for wherever the satire is general and genuine, its application is confined to no particular age or country. The impulses of the human heart are indeed identical in every land and clime, however fashions may vary or circumstances modify them, and everywhere the same causes will produce the same effects. The scene concludes with the defeat of the Bosicrucian. 126 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. But Hudibras was well prepared, And stoutly stood upon his guard. He put by Sidrophello's thrust. And in right manfully he rushed ; The weapon from his gripe he wrung, And laid him on the earth along. VVhackum, his seacoal prong threw by, And basely turned his back to fly ; But Hudibras gave him a twitch As quick as lightning in the breech, Just in the place where honour's lodged. As wise philosophers have judged, Because a kick in that part more Hurts honour than deep wounds before.'* Our illustration represents the moment Avlien Ealplio is leaving the knight to look for an officer, and Hudibras has to contend single-handed with Sidrophel and Whackum. Sir James Thornhill died in 1734, and Hogarth, who had entirely forgiven his father-in-law for his long estrangement, wrote in the obituary of Sylvanus Urban the following memoir of the celebrated architect : — " Sir James Thornhill, knight, was the greatest, history painter this kingdom ever pro- duced ; witness his elaborate works in Greenwich Hospital, the cupola of St. Paul's, the altarpieees of All Soul's College in Oxford, and the church in "Weymouth, Avliere he was born. He was not only by patents appointed history painter to their late and present Majesties, but serjeant painter, by which he was to paint all the royal palaces, coaches, barges, and the royal navy. This late patent he surren- dered in favour of his only son J olin. He left no other issue but one daughter, now the wife of Mr. William Hogarth, admired for his curious miniature conversation pieces." " The Harlot's Progress," which Avas, as we have shown, the cause of his reconciliation with his wife's father, was now followed by the " Pake's Progress," in a series of eight scenes. 'The Pake's Progress,' " says Walpole, " though perhaps superior to ^The Harlof s Progre,ss,' had not so much success as the others, from want of novelty ; nor is the print of 'The Arrest' equal to the others." The truth is that the town was more captivated by the humorous and original description given by Hogarth of a career of folly in woman than of that in man. The first was more romantic than the second, and had, moreover, the charms of novelty. The success of " The Harlot's Progress " may be gathered fi'om the fact, that no less than 1,200 subscribers were entered on the artist's books. It was dramatised in every possible shape, and it formed the plot of pantomimes and ballad operas. The story of the harlot is, alas, but too circumstantially true even in the present day. She is conducted through six successive scenes of woe : from purity to guilt, from guilt to shame, and from shame to misery and death. " The Pake's Progress," though not so popular with the world, was equally striking and original. A youth, who is the heir of a sordid miser, suddenly becomes possessed of immense wealth. He deceives and deserts the woman who had been weak enough to trust him. He is the prey of a crowd of swindlers and parasites ; and after passing through various 2)hases of sin and si^lendour, with health wrecked and fortune squandered, is left by the artist a raving lunatic in Bedlam Hospital. " The curtain," says Walpole, " was now drawn aside, and his genius stood displayed in its full lustre. From time to time he continued to give those works, which should be immortal, if the nature of his work vnll allow it. Even the receipts for his subscriptions had wit in them. Many of his plates he engraved himself; and often expunged faces etched by his assistants when they had not done justice to his ideas." Many of the chief persons in " The Harlot's " and " The Pake's Progress " were portraits. The notorious Colonel Charteris^ the greatest roue of his day ; the pompous Justice Gonson ; the celebrated Dr. Sacheverell ; and Dr. Misaubin, the lean physician, who disturbs, by his disputes with a fat confrere, the last moments of the wretched sinner, are all drawn to the life. In " The Pake's Progress " the actors are not so well known, but they are also believed to be portraits. Hogarth was his own engraver, and he was thus able to invest the copies of his j^aintings with an autograph merit which no other artist could have imparted to them. Hogarth and Martin are probably the only two painters of eminence who, by being their own engravers, have secured to WILLIAM ilOGARTII. 127: tliemselves the full proceeds of their works, and who have gratified their patrons with the certainty of possessing prints which have all the genius of the originals. CRUELTY." This scene, from a painting by Hogarth, though graphic and highly circumstantial, is not pleasing. The grouping is excellent, and the knowledge of the wicked impulses of the human heart, when unchecked by religion, custom, or law, striking and profound; but still we turn from the picture with a feeling of shame and degradation. How many a generation of that noble and useful animal, whom the brutal jarvy of the day is torturing in a manner now happily forbidden by Act of Parliament, has perished since the date of this picture, under similar treatment. The conception is only too suggestive, and we sicken at the thought of the hereditary sufferings of the race of horses. Bull-baiting is also a nuisance now happily abated, and although sheep and pigs are still occasionally driven through the streets, the abominations of Smithfield are now only traditionary. It is true that the ass is still the victim of wretches whom he often surpasses in intelligence ; but, taken as a whole, the catalogue of cruelties contained in this picture is rather the representation of extinct than of existing abuses. Hogarth painted " Cruelty " in four stages, descriptive of the career of a boy, whose cruelty increases with his years, tmtil he is at last hanged and dissected for an atrocious murder he has committed. "GARRICK AS RICHARD IIL" The celebrated painting from which we have copied our engraving was contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibition by Lord Feversham, and was painted, in 1746, for the ancestor of that noble- man. In the catalogue of the Art Treasures Exhibition we find the following notice of the picture, taken from Hogarth's Memoranda. " Eor the portrait of Mr. Garrick as Eichard III. I was paid two hundred pounds, which was more than any English artist ever received for a single portrait, and that too by the sanction of several painters who had been previously consulted about the price, which was not given without mature consideration." There is a striking reality in the attitude of the tyrant. Terrified at length beyond endurance by the supernatural horrors which have haunted his dream, he is a prey to that remorse which no human agency could have awakened in his stony heart. Much fault has been found with the figure of Richard by connoisseurs, who considered it " too muscular and massy," but the immense wear and tear of mind and body which the usurper had to undergo, demanded a frame of iron and nerves of adamant. The terror depicted in every feature as he starts from his couch is highly dramatic. This portrait of the tragedian was executed many years after the family piece of Mr. and Mrs. Garrick which gave so much offence to the celebrated actor and his wife. Hogarth was by disposition incapable of flattery, and as he had represented the great popular favourites more as nature had made them than as art had moulded them, he of course gave offence. Players live upon praise. It is as necessary to them as their daily food. And Garrick, who had so long been the object of the incense of poets, painters, and pit-frequenting critics, could i:ct bear to see himself represented as a mere com- monplace mortal, seated at an ordinary table, and with a wife who had nothing distingue about her coming behind him to take the pen out of his hand. Garrick openly disapproved of the piece, and his wife, although she did not complain of the like- ness of herself, said disparagingly, that " her dear husband looked less noble in nature than in art." Hogarth was highly incensed at these unjust criticisms. In a fit of indignation, he drew his pencil across the actor's mouth, and never afterwards added a single touch to the painting. At the time of his death it was still unaltered and unpaid for, and Mrs. Hogarth sent it to Mrs. Garrick without making any charge for it. ''HOGARTH'S PORTRAIT." Our great satirist painted many likenesses of himself, but the portrait of which the accompanying engraving is a copy is the one with which the public is the most familiar. He was iu stature rather below the middle height. His eye, which was bright and piercing, was 128 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TUEASURES EXHIBITION. WILLIAM HOGARTH. FROM A PAIKTINO BY HIMSELF. indicative ot the wit, drollery, and humour which distinguished all his artistic productions. His fore- head was high and round, with the reflective and perceptive organs equally well developed. His eccentricities were characteristic of his genius. He took as much pains in displaying the scar of a wound on his forehead as most men would have taken in concealing it. The bull-dog, whom he has introduced into the picture, he evidently intended as a kind of fm simile of himself, and the likeness between the man and his favourite dog must strike every one who studies the piece. He was active and energetic, muscular in frame, and bustling in manner. The merry twinkle ol his eye was indicative of the mirth and good- fellowship of his disposition ; but in his friendships and resentments he displayed the pertinacity of the bull-dog. Many contemporary writers have borne testimony to the sterling worth of his charac- ter. " In his relations of husbi»nd, brother, friend, 130 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. and master," says Ireland, " lie was kind, generous, sincere, and indulgent ; in diet abstemious, but in his hospitality, though devoid of ostentation, liberal and free-hearted ; not parsimonious, yet frugal. I'ut so comparatively small were the rewards then paid to artists, that, after the labour of a long life, he left a very inconsiderable sum to his widow, with whom he must have received a large portion." Though formidable and jiersevering in his resentment, he was nevertheless a generous foe, and levelled the shafts of his wit and satire only on those who were present — never on the absent. He was no respecter of persons, but often provoked, both by his pencil and his pen, those whom it would have been more prudent to conciliate. He was always ready to attack vice and folly in high and low, rich and poor ; but then he made his attack openly and in the light of day, for it was his constant boast that he never said a thing behind a man's back which he would not gladly have told him to his face. In his domestic economy he was most liberal and hospitable, and, as the proceeds of his works v/ere Djt one time large, he had the means of indulging his generous and convivial impulses. He was stead- fastly attached to Mrs. Hogarth, who returned his affection with interest, and no one, except that proverbially slanderous Wilkes, ever insinuated that he lived on bad .terms with his wife. The " Mariage a la Mode," in six noble pictures, was the next production of his genius upon which immortality has set its stamp. The fate of the hero and heroine of this clever satirical romance is almost as tragical as that of the principal actors in the Harlot's and the Rake's Progress. The husband is murdered by the lady's paramour, who expiates liis crime on the scaffold, and the guilty wife dies from the effects of poison, administered by herself The introduction into the piece of the sordid old father, who, untouched by the misery and guilt of his expiring child, is carefully removing from her finger a costly ring, is only too suggestive of the hardness of the human heart. In the attitude of the babe who twines its tiny arms round the neck of the dying mother, there is something inexpressibly affecting. This wonderful and interesting pro- duction was, notwithstanding its acknowledged merit, sold by public auction to Mr. Lane, for the paltry sum of one hundred and ten guineas. The transaction is thus described by the purchaser : — " The sale was to take place by a kind of auction, where every bidder was to write on a ticket the price he was disposed to give, with his name subscribed to it. These papers were to be received by Mr. Hogarth for the space of one month, and the highest bidder, at twelve o'clock on the last day of the month, was to be the purchaser. Tliis strange mode of proceeding probably disobliged the public, and there seemed to be at that time a combination against Hogarth, who, perhaps, from the frequent and extraordinary approbation of his works, might have imbibed some degree of vanity, which the town in general, friends and foes, seemed resolved to mortify. If this was the case, and to me it was fully apparent, they effected their design, for, on the 6th of June, 1750, which was to decide the fate of this capital work, when I arrived at the Golden Head, expecting, as was the case at the sale of * The Harlot's Progress,' to find his study full of noble and great personages, I found only Hogarth and his friend Dr. Parsons, secretary to the Koyal Society. I had bid one hundred and ten pounds. No one arrived ; and, ten minutes before twelve, I told the artist I would make the pounds guineas. "The clock struck, and Mr. Hogarth wished me joy of my purchase, hoping it was an agreeable one ; I said perfectly so. Dr. Parsons was very much disturbed, and Hogarth very much disap- pointed, and truly with great reason. The former told me the painter had hurt himself, by naming so early an hour for the sale, and Hogarth, who overheard him, said in a marked tone and manner, ' Per- haps it may be so.' I concurred in the same opinion, said he was poorly rewarded for his labour, and if he chose he might have till three o'clock to find a better bidder. Hogarth warmly accepted the offer, and Dr. Parsons proposed to make it public. I thought this unfair, and forbade it. At one o'clock, Hogarth said, ' I shall trespass no longer on your generosity ; you are the proprietor, and if you are pleased with the purchase, I am abundantly so with the purchaser.' He then desired me to promise that I would not dispose of the paintings without informing him, nor permit any person to meddle with them under pretence of cleaning them, as he always desired to do that himself" Forty-seven years afterwards, Colonel Cawthorne, who inherited the " Mariage a la Mode " from Lane, sold the series to Angerstein for £1,381, — so much had time enhanced this immortal production of Hogarth's genius. The design of a series of paintings under the title of " The Happy Marriage," was laid aside, in favour of "The Two Fellow-' prentices," although the artist had already sketched the six scenes. WILLIAM HOGAETH. 13\ Industry and idleness exemplified in tlie conduct of " the two 'prentices," though not by any means the best things Hogarth had done, were perhaps the most popular. They conveyed a practical lesson of the greatest utility, and the engravings from the etchings were every^vhere purchased by parents and masters. " The E-oast Beef of Old England " was intended as a retaliation for the indignity put upon the artist at Calais, where he had been arrested as a spy while sketching one of the gates of the toAvn, but the sarcasm is tame and insipid. Of " The Four Stages of Cruelty," we have already spoken j but a piece of greater merit, though of less general application, was " The March of the Guards to Finchley." The fertility of invention displayed in the manner in which all the elements of confusion, clamour, and tumult are exemplified in the rear of the marching troops, bafiles all description. George II., who had no appreciation of the humorous, was indignant at the satire, and sent it back to the artist with the insulting remark, " What ! a painter burlesque a soldier ! he deserves to be picketed for his insolence. Take his trum- pery out of my sight." Hogarth, in revenge, dedicated his chef-cV ceuvi^e to the King of Prussia, who, as an encourager of fine art, gave him a handsome acknowledgment for the compliment. The pictures of " Beer Street " and " Gin Lane," have been cleverly described by Ireland. " In the first," says that author, " we see healthy and happy beings inhaling copious draughts of a liquor which seems perfectly congenial to their mental and corporeal powers ; in the second, a group of emaciated wretches, who, by swallowing liquid fire, have consumed both." All will acknowledge the wholesome tendency of the lesson conveyed by " Gin Lane," but ma.ny will dispute the advantages to be derived from excess in beer-drinking. " France and England " are conceived in the same spirit as " The Eoast Beef of Old England," but the satire is more genuine and the wit more pointed. Of " The Cock-pit," and of " The Election," divided into four scenes — " The Entertainment," " The Canvassing for Votes," " The Polling," and " The Chairing" — ^we have already spoken. They both illustrate the wonderful power Hogarth possessed of exposing in a manner at once popular, amusing, and inofi'ensive, the follies and vices of his countrymen. Our painter could use his pen with efiect as well as his pencil. To explain what he meant by " the line of beauty and grace," which he had etched upon his palette as a motto, he published, in the year 1753, "The Analysis of Beauty," a work in which many original notions concerning art are clearly and cleverly explained, and in which the winding or serpentine line is stated to be the founda- tion of all that is fair and beautiful in art or nature. His pages were illustrated with numerous etchings executed by liimself. As he attacked, with his usual freedom of expression, many contem- porary portrait painters and copiers of pictures, his book was, as he must have anticipated, severely criticised. His old antagonist, "VYilkes, would never give him credit for the literary ability displayed in this work, and even after the controversy as to authorship had subsided, endeavoured to renew it through the following unjust aspersion : — " He never caught," says the inimical and scurrilous patriot, " a single idea of grace, beauty, or elegance ; but, on the other hand, he never missed the least flaw in almost any production of nature or of art. This arose in some measure from his head, but mxich more from his heart. After ' The Mariage a la Mode,' the public wished for a series of prints of a happy marriage. Hogarth made the attempt, but the rancour and malevolence of his mind made him very soon turn away with envy and disgust from objects of so pleasing contemplation, to dwell and feast a bad heart on others of a hateful cast, which he pursued (for he found them congenial) with the most unrelenting gall." Walpole attacked the work, but with less bitterness. "The book," he says, " is the failing of a visionary, whose eyes were so little open to his own deficiencies that he believed he had discovered the jDrinciple of grace, and, with the enthusiasm of a discoverer, cried out ' Eureka ! ' " But if some criti- cised, others approved of the principles he laid down, and the blame and the praise were pretty equally balanced. Bishop Warburton, who was among the admirers of Hogarth's book, says, in a letter to the artist, " I was pleased that you have determined to give us your original and masterly thoughts on the great principles of your profession. You owe this to your country, for you are both an honour to your profession and a shame to that worthless crew professing vertu and connoisseurship ; to whom all that grovel in the splendid, poverty of wealth and taste are the miserable bubbles." Benjamin "West, also, in speaking many years afterwards of " The Analysis of Beauty," said : " It is a work of the 132 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. highest value to every one studying art. * * * 'Now that it is examined by disinterested readers, unbiassed by personal animosity, it will be more and more read, studied, and understood." Of the " Sigismunda " controversy we have already spoken, and of the satirical print of " The Times," by the publication of which the artist endeavoured to avenge his wrongs. The last work of any importance that Hogarth ever painted was entitled " Credulity, Superstition, and Fanaticism." The object of this characteristic painting was to illustrate the baneful effects on the mind of a material interpretation of sacred things, and especially- of the introduction of pictures and images into places of worship. Absurd, however, as Hogarth has made superstition ai)pear, the reality is more ridiculous than the burlesque ; for Burnet tells us that " over a Po])ish altar at Worms, there is a picture, invented, one would think, to ridicule transubstantiation. There is a windmill, and the Virgin Mary throws Christ into the hopper, and he comes out at the eye of the mill all in wafers, which a priest takes up to give to the people." 134 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. Sin and folly were, however, soon to be relieved from the attacks of their most formidable foe. Hogarth was of a sensitive and susceptible nature, and he had in consequence suffered much both in mind and body from the unjust attacks of those who feared and hated him. He tried the effect of change of air upon his declining health, and purchased a small house at Chiswick, where he amused himself during the summer in sketching new scenes and retouching his old plates. But though 23ure air, green fields, and regular exercise on horseback benefited him at first, " the fret of nerve " was of too long standing to allow of any permanent renewal of health. He left Chiswick at the end of October, 1764, and returned to his town residence in Leicester- square. The day after his arrival in to^vn he wrote the rough copy of an answer to an agreeable letter he had received from Dr. Franklin, and feeling more than usually exhausted retired early to rest. He had been but a short time in bed when he was seized with violent sickness, and after a severe and protracted agony of two hoiu's' duration, expired from the suffocation consequent upon the rupture of some of the bloodvessels in the region of the heart. He was interred in the churchyard at Chiswick, and on his tombstone was engraved, under his family arms, the following simple inscription : — " Here lieth the body of William Hogarth, Esq., who died October the 26th, 1764, aged 67 years." David Garrick wote an epitaph for his monument, but as the ideas as well as the metre were tame and commonplace for the eminent artist whose extraordi- nary powers they record. Dr. Jolinson supplied a verse more pithy and applicable : — The hand of him here torpid lies That drew the essential forms of grace. Here closed in death the attentive eyes That saw the manners in the face." Hogarth left no issue. His widow, who survived liim about twenty-five years, died in November, 1789, in the eightieth year of her age, and was buried beside her husband at Chiswick. Hogarth had bequeathed at his death the sole property in all his numerous plates to his wife. But although the copyiight in this valuable bequest was secured to her for twenty years by Act of Parliament, she out- lived the period allotted to her for the enjoyment of her right. So poor indeed was she at last, that had not the King induced the Boyal Academy to grant her a pension of forty pounds a year, she v/ould have been in actual want-. When we take into account the fortune that she brought Hogarth, and the many years she enjoyed the copyiight in all his plates, it is difficult to account for her state of destitution. HOGARTH'S MERITS. Hogarth, as a painter and engraver, has a world-wide reputation. His representations of real life are thoroughly dramatic. His humour delights the fancy — his well-directed and judicious satire pleases the understanding — his touching scenes of human misery affect the heart, and his ludicrous illustrations of popular folly excite the risibility of all who can appreciate his works. He was the disciple of no school, he was the pupil of no master. He drew his inspirations from nature, and it is liis glory and not his reproach that he is unlike in everything to all the artists who either preceded or followed him. He was thoroughly English in his character and style, he borrowed nothing from the ancients, and was indebted neitlier to liistory nor poetry for his conceptions. His satire is so genuine and his humour and knowledge of the human heart so great, that his works are "not for an age but for all time." He had studied men, not books ; and however unlearned he might be in the jargon of the schools, he was well read in the character of his countrymen. He is worshipped by all who have any real appreciation of genius, and he is only criticised by those crea- tures of routine who, always prating about the grand style, see nothing admirable but in the servile imitations of Baphael, Titian, or Corregio. GEORGE LANCE. 135 GEORGE LANCE. "THE KEDCAP." This picture is, with the exception of the Monkey, who is introduced for effect, a picture of still life, or as the French term it. Nature morte. The red handkerchief twisted round the head of the ape is intended to give to this curious caricature of human nature the appearance of a hideous old v/oman. In the introduction of the monkey Mr. Lance has followed a very ancient precedent. Painters of all ages have pandered to the morbid fancy which most people feel for these grotesque libels upon our race in their pictures, and before the time of the " Renaissance " there was such an universal passion for monkeys, that we find them forming a part of all the paintings of the time, and not only was every house provided with its jackey, but the image of this odious animal was sculptured on the fagades of buildings and served to adorn the articles of domestic use. In France, the port of Dieppe had a kind of monopoly in the importation of monkeys, and in such estimation were they held that a good specimen was sure to realise, at least, five francs, or about half the sum which an ox in those days Avould fetch in the market. Their powers of imitation were cultivated to such an extent that, when dressed in character, they have performed their part so well as actually to be mistaken for the little pages or tigers they represented. On one occasion a gardener, who had never before seen a monkey, met on the stairs of the house of his employer a page of this kind, and deceived by his fine apparel and courteous manners, presented him with a basket of fruit he had just gathered for the master of the counterfeit page. The monkey seized on the most tempting contents of the basket, and then, with a hideous grimace, disappeared. When the gardener was taxed by his master with the theft of the fruit, he said, " You must not be angry, sir, for you7' son, who met me on the stairs, carried off the finest part of it." Pictures of still life are, on the whole, an inferior style of painting, as imitation of the objects they represent is their principal merit. That poetry of the imagination which translates upon the canvas the conceptions of the artist's mind, has no existence in such compositions. The contemplation of these pieces may amuse the eye and arouse some little curiosity, but it can neither elevate the mind nor influence the heart of the spectator. They are the appropriate ornament of the dining-room where they suggest notions of plenty and tickle the fancy of the epicurean ; but the display of fruit, vege- tables, fish, and game has little attraction for any but the sensualist. Minds of a higher order sicken at the sight of this transformation of a drawing-room into a kitchen j and, on that account, paintings are preferred which appeal more to the imagination than the senses, and which rather suggest to the mind subjects for contemplation than to the appetite objects for its gratification. Landscapes, flowers, merry-makings, or scenes of rural enjoyment have been substituted wherever taste, feeling, and propriety are in the ascendant, for those subjects of "still life" which are now almost monopolised by water- colour artists, or are only found on the canvas which adorns the dining halls of Dutch and Flemish Burgomasters. We do not question the merit of some of these pictures. It may be almost as difficult to arrive at perfection in this style of painting as in another, but the inventive power, which must be a natural gift, because we know of no instance in which it has been acquired, is not called into action, and it is on that account that pictures of still life will always rank, in the scale of art, far below the conceptions of historical, landscape, or portrait painters. " FRUIT." This beautiful engraving by Guilbert, from a painting by George Lance, is as suggestive as any fruit piece with which we are acquainted. The soft bloom of the purple grapes, and the yellow richness of the raisins dh Fontainehleau, at once fascinating to the eye and alluring to the appetite, remind us of those inspiring lines of our noble bard : — Sweet is the vintage when the grapes Reel to tlie earth in bacchanal profusion, Purple and gushing." i36 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASUfRES EXHIBlflOJT. Paintings of this nature delight the sight 'without elevating or inspiring the heart or the imagina- tion. The subject is wholly sensual ; for even the accessories, such as the marble slab, the vase, the dish, and the drapery, are all intended to add to the appetising influence of the fruit and to enhance tlieir lustre and attraction. S. tn 3 -. t?=j Fruit and flowers, especially the latter, are the great ornaments of youth, innocence, and beauty. In all ages and all countries painters have decked female loveliness with flowers, and have made the ripe produce of the yellow autumn the most becoming appendage to infancy and childhood. They represent Cybele and Pomona with a cornucopia, ])oaring, from an inexhaustible supply, the treasures of all the reasons. Their bas-reliefs and their bronzes are all embossed with fruit and flowers, and JOHN CASSELLS AtlT TREASURES EXHiBITIOlJ. 137 even the pillars of tlieir orders of architecture are surmounted by ornaments of fruit. Representa- tions of fruit are accompanied with no disagreeable reminiscences: as these alluring gifts of Providence ripen between seed time and harvest, they recall neither the fatigues of the one nor the exigencies of the other, but occupying, as it were, an intermediate space, they seem to be less the produce of the sweat of man's brow than of the refreshing dews of summer. They breathe of nothing but incenso, 1 -X i SANOHO PANZA. FROM A PAINTING BY 0. R. LESLIE, R.A. (By pemiMton of Mr. MaraeUk HoUoitai/.J Mmess, and delight They form the least substantial articles of our consumption, but they are the most indispensable of our superfluities. ' hold^wo?dT' I^'^'^'^tZ ^^"-'^""^ ^"'"^^ l«°g a>«l justly rendered his name a house- hold word, was bom at Little Easton, near Colchester, on the 24th of March, 1803. With some others 1» 138 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. of Ms gifted contemporaries, he was at an early age placed as a pnpil under Haydon, whose large works Mr. Lance was allowed to paint. He always received the praises of his enthusiastic, but unfor- tunate master. Some of Mr. Lance's historical and imaginative pictures show what he might have done if he had persevered in following that line of art. Take, for instance, " Melancthon's First Misgivings of the Church of Rome," which gained the prize at the Liverpool Academy j his " Biron ^Conspiracy;" his " Lady in Waiting," now in the choice collection of Lord Northwick ; his "Village Coquette" and "Ked Cap," formerly in the cabinet of Mr. Broderip, but now in the magnificent collection of Mr. Thomas Baring, who also possesses " The Ballad," a work worthy of the best Dutch School in its best time. These and many other similar pictures show, we repeat, what the painter might have done if he had continued to cultivate this branch of his profession ; and it must be confessed, that splendid as liis fruit and still life are, it is not without regret that we see his marvellous execution and high know- ledge of colour and composition lavished on these subjects, though in the treatment of them he stands unrivalled among the modern, and may compete mth the best of the ancients whose works in that style have come down to us. He first exhibited at the Boyal Academy in 1828; and since 1835 has been a regular contri- butor ; but is still plain George Lance, though for five-aiid-twenty years he has been a candidate for academic honours. Many of the academicians would, we opine, find it rather difiicult to produce such works as those in the collections of the Duke of Bedford, the Duke of Marlborough, Lord North- ^vick, Lord Overstone, Mr. Wells, Mr. Baring, Sir M. Peto, Mr. Betts, and many other distinguished patrons, or show so complete a clearance of their painting rooms. Such a disappointment to his ambition, as this long continued rejection, is indeed well balanced by the flattering circumstance, that nearly four hundred pictures have been executed by this diligent artist, all of which have found purchasers ; and now few real patrons of art are v/ithout some, if not several, of his productions. We are indebted to a private source for this interesting memoir of Mr. Lance. ALFRED ELMORE, R.A, extract from "The Men of the Time" the following brief memoir of this celebrated artist : — " Alfred Elmore, B. A., was born at Clonakilty, in the county of Cork, in 1816 ; a painter of ability in a kind which abounds at the present day. First exhibited at the Academy in 1834 ; not again, with one exception, for nine years. The titles of some of his earliest pictures evidence aspira- tions within the range of the high historic : A ' Crucifixion,' at the British Institution in 1838; 'The Martyi'dom of Thomas a Becket,' at the Academy in 1839 (the latter painted for Mr. O' Council in 1839) ; both now in a Boman Catholic church in Dublin. He next visited Italy, and on his return exliibited 'Bienzi in the Forum,' in 1844. One or two pictures of slighter pretension at the British Institution — the gleanings of Italian travel — were selected by Art Union prize-holders. Historical, or semi-historical incidents, treated in the spirit of the genre painters, proved even more successful. The ' Origin of the Guelph and Ghibelline Quarrel,' of 1845, gained a purchaser in the holder of the Art Union's highest In the same year he was elected Associate of the Academy. The ' Fainting of Hero,' from ' Much Ado about Nothing,' the following year, again seduced the choice of the Art Union's leading prize-holder. It was not the" last of his pictures which has pleased fortunate prize-holders. Mr. Elmore has been especially prosperous in that respect. Of the exhibition of 1847, ' The Invention of the Stocking-Loom ' was a popular feature — a clever rendering of an anecdote not intrinsically pictorial. Amid the quest for novel and attractive subjects, the byeways of history have been eagerly prize, £300. ALFRED ELMORE. 139 ranyacked by the young competitors among our painters for notice. The best of Mr. Elmore's subse- quent pictures have been 'The Death-bed of Robert, King of Naples, Wise and Good' (1818), ' Religious Controversy in the Time of Louis XIX.' (1849), ' Griselda' (1850), 'Hotspur and the Fop' (1851), 'A Subject from Pepy's Diary,' 'Mr. Hales began my Wife's Portrait' (1852)," &c. &c. " ORIGIN OF THE STOCKINa-LOOM." The painting represented by our v/ood engraving is the masterpiece of A. Elmore, a Koyal Acade- mician, and was contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibition by T. Bayley, Esq. The stocking-loom economises human labour to so great an extent, and is, moreover, an invention so useful and practical, that we shall make no apology for introducing the romantic incidents with which it origin is connected. A little more than two centuries and a half ago, towards the end of the long and prosperous reign of Queen Elizabeth, an undergraduate was expelled from the University of Cambridge for a violation of academical discipline. Contrary to the statute " therein made and provided," he had formed an attachment for a maiden every way worthy of him, and had married her without calculating the con- sequences of his imprudence. The Dons were inexorable ; and as neither his wife nor himself had any capital to begin upon, except youth, hope, and love, their condition was sorely perplexing. William Lee — for such was the name of our young hero — had learning, and j^lenty of it ; but in those days nothing was as yet said about the education of the peoj^le, and no one had ever dreamed of the universal diffusion of useful knowledge. There was, in consequence, little hope of his turning his scholarship to account ; and his dependence, for their mutual support, was on the needle of his wife. He could not contemplate without a secret sense of degradation her delicate fingers plying in patient resignation their daily toil ; and, as necessity is the mother of invention, he elaborated in his mind a scheme which should not only provide for the present emergency, but protect herself and her lovely infant from all apprehension of future want. One morning, after having bestowed more attention than usual upon the monotonous process in which his fair and fragile helpmate was engaged, he suddenly exclaimed — " Mary, I think I could contrive a machine which would set those fingers free, and earn a living for thyself and that young cherub on thy knee ! " Mary answered him only with a look of affectionate inquiry. " It seems to me," said the inventor of the stocking-loom, " that what you accomplish with so much patient industry, I could effect by a mechanical contrivance, which should economise all the labour I have watched with such painful interest." " I know, William," said she, " that if aflection could suggest the plan of a machine which should protect our helpless babe — for whom I feel far more anxiety than I do for ourselves — from the penury wliich threatens her, you would not linger over the execution of your scheme ; but tell me what it is you mean." With the prophetic instinct of genius, William Lee then explained to his admiring wife the prin- ciples of the machine, which he already foresaw would be a source, not only of individual, but of national, wealth, and which, in the annals of English invention, deserves to stand side by side with the steam-engine. The first machine in wliich William Lee embodied his idea was, of course, but a rude contrivance of wood and iron j but, such as it was, it enabled him to knit, in an incredibly short space of time, those stockings in the manufacture of which his wife's health and spirits had been so severely tried. When he had realised a sufficient sum of money to extend his business, he set up as a stock- ing-weaver at Nottingham, and plied the trade, not only for his own advantage, but with the liberality of true genius he associated in the secret of this productive invention his brother and his cousins. The English nation was, however, slow in recognising the value of William Lee's machine. Neither Queen Elizabeth nor her successor, James, patronised the stocking-loom ; and the inventor, disgusted with the ingratitude or stupidity of his countrymen, removed with his apparatus to France, where he was cordially welcomed by Henry of Navarre. His, however, was the common fate of genius. He was a Protestant, and was therefore involved in that persecution of the Huguenots which followed shortly after the assassination of Henri IV. by Ravaillac. His end, although he escaped the actual tortures of the Huguenot persecution, was sufficiently sad, for he died in Paris of grief and disappoint- inent. The painting by Elmore represents him at the moment he is planning in his own mind the 140 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. machine which shall relieve his lovely and delicate wife from the wearisome and monotonous occupation in which she is engaged. . Among the Protestants who fled to England from the 2)ersecution of Charles IX, Avas one Aston, an apprentice of the stocking-loom inventor. More fortunate than his master, he enlisted the Court in his favour (for the Stuarts were more enlightened patrons of industrial enterprise than the Tudors), and established productive gtocking-loom manufactories at Nottingham and Leicester. For more ALFRED ELMORE. 141 THE ORPHAN BIRD. FROM A PAINTING BY BURNET. than a century very few alterations were made in the machine ; but the late Mr. Jedediah Strutt at length contrived, by means of an improvement which he introduced into the original stocking-loom, to manufacture ribbed-hose. 142 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. "THE NOVICE." ' The grapliic and suggestive painting of " The Novice," by A. Elmore, E. A., was contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibition by William Bashall. The interior of the cell in which the young devotee will have to pass the monotonous period of her novitiate is faithfully and circumstantially represented. The bare and ghastly walls, the meagre supply of furniture consisting of a grahat, or pallet, of the plainest and rudest description, with a single mattress and coverlid, but without hangings, valances, or any of those appliances of comfort or luxury which might relieve the desolate and penitential appear- ance of the narrow chamber, have a dismal effect on the spirits. One rush-bottom chair, with a vessel of water and towel, make up the miserable complement. The young novice had evidently not selected, par preference, the questionable happiness of • The blameless vestal's lot, The world forgetting, bj the world forgot." There is a fund of arriere-pensee in the side-glance which she casts at the merry sons and daughters of the Avorld, whose animated prattle, loud jests, and ringing laugh reach her not inattentive or unwil- ling ear, through the open casement. She is still in the world, although no longer of the world ; and? in the novelty of her position, she cannot yet realise to herself the forced seclusion of that fictitious death she has voluntarily inflicted upon herself The painter had evidently in his mind, when he conceived tliis suggestive piece, the significative lines of the poet : — " For who to dumb forgetful n ess a prey, This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigned ; Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day. Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind ? " How listlessly and mechanically her tapering fingers glide over the beads of her rosary, as her imagination dwells once again upon the scenes to which youth, hope, and love had lent such an exqui- site charm, but from v/hich, on the day when the portals of her living tomb closed upon her, she was for ever debarred. The austerities of a convent, however, can never stifle the voice of nature in the breast of the novice, or triumph over the eternal decrees of Providence. CHAULES HOBERT LESLIE, R.A LTHOUGH English by birth, this celebrated artist is of American origin, for his parents were citizens of the New World. He was born in London, October 19th, 1794. His gi*andfather, who was a Scotchman and a Jacobite, joined in the "rising" of 1745, but emigrated to America, when the rebellion of that date had been effectually suppressed by the defeat of the Highlanders at Culloden. Although the first period of his childhood was passed in London, he is indebted to the land of liis parents for the rudiments of his artistic education. When he was only five years of age, his father returned to Phila- delphia ; but long before that time he had given decided proofs of a talent for drawing. He was continually sketching soldiers and horses on his slate ; and even his earliest attempts display much character and spirit. At six years of age he could draw from recollection the likeness of any one with whose face he was acquainted. At thirteen he was apprenticed to a bookseller in Philadelphia, but his spccialite was dra^ving ; and he employed all his spare time in improving himself in his favourite pursuit. He delighted in theatrical entertainments; and so great were his powers of observation, and so extra- ordinary was his imitative skill, that he could make water-colour drawings of all the scenes in the CHAULES UOBERT LESLIE. 143 drama he had been witnessing, and introduce excellent likenesses of the actors in their respective . characters. His portrait of Cooke, in the character of Richard III., attracted so much attention, that his friends, convinced at length of his talent for portrait painting, yielded to his entreaties, and allowed him to follow the profession of an artist. His indentures were cancelled, and he was sent to England, with the view of giving him every opportunity for cultivating his taste for art under the best masters. He had, however, profited by the valuable instructions of Mr. Sully in oil painting before he left America, and shortly after his arrival in London he sent home to Philadelphia, his first piece in this style, entitled " Walter of Deloraine," from Scott's " Lay of the Last Minstrel." This picture is now in the Academy at Philadelphia. Having realised fame and fortune among the " Britishers," Mr. Leslie made England the country of his adoption, and, indeed, with the exception of a few months passed at "West- point, in 1832, he has resided constantly in London. His merits secured him, long ago, the coveted title of Royal Academician, and his professional career has been both lucrative and honourable. His most celebrated pictures are: "May-Day in the Keign of Elizabeth;" "Ann Page and Slender," recently sold in New York; " Sancho Relating his Adventures to the Duchess ;" "Falstaff Dining at Page'.s House;" "Touchstone and Audrey;" "A Portrait of Sir Walter Scott," now in possession of Mr. Ticknor, of Boston; "The Coronation of Queen Victoria;" "Christening of the Princess Royal ;" " Yisit of Lady Blarney and Miss Skeggs to the Yicar of Wakefield's Family ;" and " The Reading of the Will of Roderick Random's Grandfather." SANCHO PANZA." The picture from which this engraviag is copied represents that amusing personage, Sancho Panza, as governor of the island of Barataria. His attendants have placed before him many delicacies, of which Don Quixote's hungry squire is anxious to partake. The court doctor is at hand to remove the tempting morsel, just as poor Sancho is about to swallow it. "My lord," said the wand-bearer, "your lordship's food must here be watched with the same care as is customary with the governors of other islands. I am a doctor of physic, sir ; and my duty, for which I receive a salary, is to attend to the governor's health, whereof I am more careful than of my own. I study his constitution night and day, that I may know how to restore him when sick; and, therefore, think it incumbent on me to pay special regard to his meals, at which I constantly preside, to see that he eats what is good and salutary, and prevent his touching whatever I imagine may be prejudicial to his health or offensive to his stomach. It is for that reason, my lord, I ordered the dish of fruit to be taken away, as being too watery, and that other dish as being too hot and over-seasoned with spices, which are apt to provoke thii*st; and he that drinks much destroys and consumes the radical moisture, which is the fuel of life." " Well, then,'' quoth Sancho, " that plate of roasted partridges, which seem to me to be very well seasoned, I suppose vnll do me no manner of harm." " Hold," said the doctor, " my lord governor shall not eat them, while I live to prevent it." "Pray, why not? " quoth Sancho. " Because," answered the doctor, " our great master, Hippocrates, says in one of his aphorisms, 'Omnis saturatio mala, perdicis autem pessima' — all repletion is bad, but that from partridges the worst." " If it be so," quoth Sancho, " jDray cast your eye, senor doctor, over all these dishes here on the table, and see which v/ill do me the most good or the least harm, and let me eat of it, without wliisking it away with your conjuring stick; for, by my soul, and as God shall give me life to enjoy this government, I am dying with hunger; and to deny me food — let senor doctor say what he will — is not the way to lengthen my life, but to cut it short." "Your worship is in the right, my lord governor," answered the physician; "and, therefore, I am of opinion you should not eat of those stewed rabbits, as being a food that is tough and acute; of that veal, indeed, you might have taken a little, had it been neither roasted not stewed — but as it is, not a morsel." " What think you, then," said Sancho, " of that huge dish there smoking hot, which I take to be an olla j^odrida ; for among the many things contained in it I surely may light upon something both wholesome and toothsome." " Absit," quoth the doctor — " far be such a thought from us. Olla podrida ! there is no worse dish in the world. Leave them to the prebends and rectors of colleges, or lusty feeders at country weddings ; but let them not be seen on the tables of governors, where nothing contrary to health and delicacy should be tolerated. Simple medicines are always more estimable and safe, for in -them there can be no mistake ; whereas in such as are compounded all is hazard and uncer- JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREAStJUES EXHIBITION. A PEASANT BOY. FROM A PAINTING BY RICHARD WBSTAII, R.A. JOHN CASSELL'S art TREASURES EXHIBITION. 145 ANTHONY VANDYCK. FROM A PAINTING BY HIMSELF. THE OaUOIFIXION. VANDYCK. taiiity. Therefore, what I would at present advise my lord governor to eat, in order to corroborate and pi eserve his health, is about one hundred small rolled - up wafers, with some thin slices of marnialade, that inay sit easy upon the stomach and help digestion." "THE. RIVALS." Leslie is the only imaginative illustrator we have of Shakespeare and Moliere. His " Merry "Wives of Windsor," " Autolycup," "Perdita," f Sir Toby and Sir Andrew," " Beatrice,": " FalstafF personating the King," "Juliet," &c. &c., are not only intrinsically good as works of art, but they convey, in the most pleasing form, original readings of the meaning' of our great dramatist. " The Bourgeois Gentilhomme with the Fencer," "The Malade Imaginaire," and "The Femmes Savantes," reveal his intimate knowledge, not only of the merits and meaning of Moliere, but of the disposition and habits of the French peoj)le. His pencil embellishes every subject it illustrates, and adds point and meaning to the description of his author. In " The Rivals," he has greatly improved upon the scene from which he borrowed his subject. The 19 146 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. struggles of the aged beau, whose sinews and joints have lost all the suppleness of youth, to recover his inamorata's fan, are pitiably ludicrous, and convey an excellent satire upon the folly of age aping the manners of youth. There is an old French distich peculiarly applicable to the condition of this ei-devarU jeune ^wmme : — " Laissez la belle jeuuesse Ces foUtres enjouements : Qui de son 4ge n'a pas 1' esprit, De son ^ge a tout le tourment." [anglice.] Leave to youth's impassioned days What in youth so sweet appears : Greybeards aping lovers' ways Doubly feel the weight of years. While the antiquated suitor is liors de combat through his forced attempt at gallantry, his youthful rival is improving his opportunity. His domestic scenes are remarkable for their pathos and sentiment. His " Mother and Child," "Children at Play," and "The Shell," are gems in this style; and in some few instances Leslie has shown a capacity for treating religious subjects, in a manner at once touching and edifying. JAMES BURNET, AMES BURNET, a landscape painter of considerable merit, was born at Mussel- burgh, in the year 1788. He was the fourth son of George Burnet, general Surveyor of Excise, in Scotland, and of Ann Cruikshank, his wife. His brother J ohn was famous as an engraver and draughtsman ; and several other members of the family were dis- tinguished either in literature or art. Like most men of genius, Burnet owed more to the instructions of his mother than to any other sources of education. The prophetic instinct of maternal affection discovered at once the bent of the young artist's mind ; and, at his mother's instiga- tion, he was placed under the care of Liddell, to learn wood-carving, a branch of art which, during the last century, must have been highly lucrative, as the elaborate orna- mentation of the various articles of furniture then in fashion still testifies. During his apprenticeship to Liddell, Burnet employed his leisure hours in studying drawing at the " Trustees' Academy," under Graham, where he was distinguished above his fellow- students for the truthfulness of his delineations. Entertaining a well-founded confidence in his own powers, he joined his brother in London, in 1810. Our artist was then in his twenty-second year, fall of hope, and glowing with youthful enthusiasm. Wilkie's chef-d'oeuvre of " The Blind Fiddler," which his brother was engraving at the time, excited the admiration of the young artist to the highest pitch ; and he determined if possible to form his style of draw- ing upon the model of the Scotch painter. The study of some of the Dutch masters in the British Gallery confirmed him in his admiration of Wilkie. Potter and Cuyp were his models in landscape ; but in all his best pieces he contrived, like Wilkie, to make his picture tell its own story. The first piece of his which bears unmistakable evidence of the sources from which he had borrowed his style, was " Cattle going out in the morning." The picture has great merit. The cattle seem to rejoice in their release from their stall, and to revel in the richness of the pastures and in the dewy freshness of the morning. In his " Cattle returning home in a shower," " he has intro- duced," says a celebrated critic, " everything that could in any way characterise the scene. The rain- bow in the sky, the glittering of the rain upon the leaves, the dripping poultry under the hedge, the reflections of the cattle on the road, and the girl with her gown over her shoulders, all tend with equal JAMES BURNET. 147 force to illustrate his subject." This picture established his reputation as a painter of pastoral scenes. Those which followed still farther enhanced his fame — " The Key of the Byre," " Crossing the Brook," " Cowboys and Cattle," " Breaking the Ice," " Milking," " Crossing the Bridge," " Inside of a Cow- house," " Boy with Cows," &c. &c. Many of these pictures are in the possession of the painter's rela- tives ; but for some of them large sums were paid by the Earl of Coventry, the Earl of Egremont, and the Marquis Camden. Burnet's pictures are remarkable for the beauty of their skyey colouring; and as he succeeded so well in this important portion of his landscape, we will quote a few of his critical observations. " The sky," says he, " being of a receding character, all those points which contribute to give it such character should be the study of the painter. Mere white, for example, will seldom keep its place in a sky; but it ought to be used in foreground objects, for the purpose of giving a retiring quality to the whites in the sky and distance. Softness of form also aids in giving the sky a retiring character; although it is necessary to give a little sharpness,, to prevent the sky appearing what is termed woolly; yet very Kttle is sufficient to give firmness to the whole. Clouds are much more opaque in the north than in the south, as the light shines upon them in the one situation, and through them in the other. Their form alters much, too, according to the time of day : at noon they are round, and more like those of Wouvermans; in the evening they are more like those of Cuyp or Both, especially about an hour before the sun goes down." The following comments upon the pictures of Wilson in the British Insti- tution are of the date of May, 1814. "I observed," he says, "some pictures more pleasing than others; those which seemed most so were Light pictures with warm foregrounds falling into a cool sky and a distance, the middle-ground mostly in shadow, of a purple-gray, with yellow and green touches through it; a piece of blue drapery in the foreground gives great value. Of all things, Wilson seems careful to keep a proper balance of hot and cold colour, and of light and shade, with very little positive colour, and little of black or white, but always some of each." Had this promising young painter lived to carry out all the excellent principles with which his mind was stored, there is no doubt that he would have attained the highest rank among the artists of his time. But a lingering consumption — that disease so fatal in this climate — ^was gradually sapping the springs of life. He tried change of air, but all to no purpose ; he grew visibly thinner and weaker, and although he kept up his cheerfulness to the last, he was fully aware that the hand of death was upon him. He expired on the 27th of July, 1816, aged twenty-eight years. He had often expressed a wish to be buried in the church of Lee, which forms the background of several of his pictures, but some parochial regulations prevented his relations from fulfilling this his last request, and he was in consequence interred in Lewisham burial-ground. THE ORPHAN BIRD." The picture from which this engraving is copied reminds us forcibly of Wilkie. The grouping is quite in the Scotch painter's style, and there is a whole history attached to the capture and treatment of the " Orphan Bird." The interior, with all its various implements of agricultural labour and its utensils of rustic economy, has a Wilkie air about it that is quite unmistakable. RICHARD WESTALL, R.A. This celebrated artist was born in 1765, and was early bound apprentice to a silverplate engraver, in Gutter-lane, where he formed an acquaintance with the celebrated portrait painter, Thomas Lawrence. The intimacy between the artists soon ripened into friendship ; and so inseparable were they that they hired a house between them, in Greek-street, Soho. Westall devoted himself almost exclusively to the illustration of the British poets, and in this style he has never been surpassed, or even equalled. The first production of his Avhich established his fame as an artist was a picture exhibited in 1785, representing a scene from Chaucer's "January and May." "Mary Queen of Scots taking leave of Andi'ew Marvel," "EsHu asking for his Father's Blessing," and a scene from "The Wife of Bath's Tale," followed in rapid 148 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. succession. In the illustrations of Milton which he executed for Alderman Boydell, the founder of the Shakespearian Gallery, he seems to have caught the inspiration of the subject, and to have shared in the sublimity and grandeur of the poet. He also executed some illustrations of Shakespeare for the alderman, but they were only moderately good. >V|-CABA550N T MADONNA AND CHILD. FROM A PAINTING BY VANDYCK. (Cmlribvted to the Art Treamrea Exhibition bv the late J. Smith Barrv, Esq.J PANNEMAKtR JO The success of Westall's Milton made him very popular with the booksellers, who encumbered him with orders; but there is a want of vigour in his style, for which the refinement and grace of his con- ceptions can never entirely atone. He wa;:: elected a member of the Royal Academy in the year 1794 and in 1808 he published a volume of poems entitled "A Day in Spring." He had the honour of VANDTCK. 149 THE CROWN OF THORNS. FROM A PAINTING BY VANDYCK. impartiiig to Her Gracious Majesty the Queen the first rudiments of drawing; and, wh^ucver may- have been his own shortcomings, his pupil does credit to her instructor. He managed to reahse a considerable fortune by his professional skill, but he lost it all through the frauds of men who foisted upon him as originals clever copies of the great masters. He was long a pensioner on the bounty of the Royal Academy, and died, in extreme poverty, on the 4:th of December, 1836. 150 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. ♦'THE PEASANT BOY." The picture from wliicli our engraving is copied is one of Westall's masterpieces. The position of the figure in the foreground is highly artistic and natural, and the dog is, in expression and attitude, worthy of the pencil of Landseei', ANTHONY VANDYCK. ANDYCK was born in Antwerp in 1599. He perhaps owed the early develop- ment of his predilection for art to his father's calling — that of a painter on glass — and his mother's taste, which led her to embroider designs both in landscapes and figures, some of which she executed with great skill. She was glad to find that her son was disposed to follow the same bent as herself, and gave him all the instruction in her power, and induced his father to place him in the studio of Henry Yan Balen, a historical painter of some repute, who had studied under E-ubens. While here, he of course became familiar with the works of the latter ; and such was the admiration which he conceived for this great man, that he could not rest satisfied until he obtained admission to his school, in 1615. He proved himself in every way worthy of the privileges wliicli he now enjoyed. His assiduity, zeal, and attention attracted the notice of his master, and caused him to bestow on him a greater amount of teaching and encouragement than his other pupils ordinarily met with. He evinced his confidence in him by employing him very soon in making the drawings of his own works from which the engravings were to be taken. His fellow-students, however, were not less forward in acknowledging his talents than Kubens himself, as was shown by a well-authenticated anecdote. During the absence of their master, the pupils were in the habit of persuading his old servant to admit them into his painting room, that they might inspect his works as they progressed. On one occasion, however, the easel was thrown down, and, to their great consternation, the painting was seriously injured. After consulting as to the course to be adopted, they resolved to request Yandyck to repair the damage. He reluctantly consented to make the attempt, and with such success that his comrades declared they could not distinguish his workmanship from the remainder. When Kubens returned, however, he at once detected the difierence, summoned them all before him, and questioned them as to the cause of the alterations. They frankly confessed the truth, and the matter was passed over without any further notice or remark. When Yandyck had made considerable progress, Rubens advised him to visit Italy, where he would acquire just and pure notions of form from the remains of Greek and Roman sculpture, and could study the application of those principles of art which he had already learned in the great works of the Italian masters. As a proof of his esteem, Rubens presented him, when leaving his school, with three of the finest of his own paintings, — an " Ecce Homo," a portrait of his wife, and a night scene representing the seizure of Jesus in the garden of the Mount of Olives ; and also with one of his most valuable horses. It does not appear, however, that Yandyck followed his advice as to the journey to Italy ; because we find that he was so flattered by the invitation of the Earl of Arundel to come to England, that he accepted it. There is a great diff'erence of opinion amongst his biographers as to whether he came direct to England after leaving the studio of Rubens, or first paid a visit to France ; but from an order for the payment of £100 to Yandyck for special services rendered to Charles I., bearing date 1620, it seems likely that he first visited England. Whether this £100 was a gratuity, or was a regular payment for work and labour done, does not appear. A " Head of James I." in the collection at Yv^indsor, has by some been supposed to be the production for which the sura wa^ p:iid. The only VANDYCK. 151 other work of this period which is attributed to him mth any show of proof, is a portrait of the " Earl of Arundel," his patron, which was engraved by Hollar. He took his departure from England on the 28th of February, 1620 (o.s.), and in a pass given him to enable him to embark, he is designated one of " his Majesty's servants," and he is described as having obtained leave of absence for eight months ; from which it may be inferred that he had obtained a regular engagement from the king. He now made his way once more to Flanders, where, however, he was destined to offer up his devotions at the shrine of another deity than Apollo. He fell desperately in love with a young country-girl residing in the village of Lavelthem, near Brussels, named Anna Van Ophem. So powerful a hold did his passion acqitire over him, that he was unable to tear himself away from the presence of his charmer for a considerable length of time. Month after month passed away in " dalliance sweet," and Italy seemed to be totally lost sight of. By the persuasions of the fair Anna, however, he painted two pictures for the parish church, one of them representing " St. Martin," the patron saint, on horseback, dividiug his cloak with a beggar. The saint was a portrait of Yandyck himself, and the horse of the one which Rubens had presented him with. The same subject had been previously treated by Eubens almost in the same manner. The parish authorities some time afterwards disposed of it to a M. Huet, of the Hague; but as soon as the villagers heard of it, they rose in arms, and resisted all attempts to remove it, with such vigour that the purchasers had to fly in order to save their lives. Similar zeal in its defence was manifested at a more recent period; when in 1806 the French seized upon it, the inhabitants offered so strenuous a resistance, that a reinforcement of troops had to be sent down from Brussels before it could be carried away. It remained in the Louvre until 1815, when the allied armies entered Paris and restored it to the rightful owners. As soon as Bubens heard of his pupil's infatuation, he hastened down to Lavelthem, and succeeded in rousing him to a remembrance of art and fame, and inducing him to break the silken chains which bound him. He took a hasty leave of his mistress, and started off for Italy. He first directed his steps to Venice, attracted by the reputation of the colourists of that school, whose manner his master had admired and to some extent adopted. He paid particular attention to the works of Giorgione and Titian, and occupied himself mainly in copying and studying them, until the low state of his funds obliged him to set out for Genoa. This city was at this period at the height of its celebrity, and was the abode of the wealtliiest nobles and merchants in Europe. Bubens had been received in it with great favour, so that his pupil visited it under auspicious circumstances, and his own graceful manners and rising talents as a portrait painter confirmed the good impressions formed regarding him from his master's prestige. The Spinola, Baggi, Brignoli, Pallavicino, and Balbi families eagerly availed them- selves of his services, and their palaces still contain some of the best specimens of his works. From Genoa he proceeded to Borne, and while there was a guest in the palace of Cardinal Benti- roglio, who, from his long residence in Flanders, was very fond of Flemings. By his order Vandyck painted a " Crucifixion," and a full-length portrait of himself. The latter i'S considered one of his best works ; the colouring bears evidence to the benefits he derived from his residence in Venice. In the pontifical palace there is an " Ascension " and an " Adoration of the Magi " by him, which, it is pre- sumed, were painted by a commission from the Pope. Many other works executed at this period are still to be found in the palaces of the nobles. His stay at Bome only lasted two years,. and its termi- nation was owing, it is said, to the ill-concealed dislike of the Flemish artists residing there. They appear to have been mostly men of dissipated habits, pothouse frequenters and tipplers, passing their time in modes altogether foreign to Vandyck's tastes, who had a good deal of the fine gentleman in his composition, ev«n if his natural good sense had not shown him that coarse sensualism is fatal to excellence in any walk of life. He was fond of fine dress and grand equipages too, which led his countrymen to believe him proud, and from this to calumniating and depreciating him there was but one step. They declared that his drawing was wretched, and his colouring worse. Disgusted by their conduct, Vandyck left Bome and returned to Genoa, whence he shortly after passed over into Sicily. While in Palermo, he painted the portrait of the celebrated blind paintress, Soffonisba Angosciola, then in her ninety-first year. Vandyck appears to have derived great enjoyment from her society, as he afterwards declared that he had received more instruction in his art from a blind woman than from the works of the most celebrated painters. He left Sicily in haste, in consequence of the outbreak of Ihe plague. During his rambles on the Continent, he met the Countess of Arundel travelling with 152 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURIES EXHIBITION. QUEEN HENRIETTA MARIA AND FAMILY. PROM A PAINTING BY VANDYCK. her two sons. Slie begged of him to return with her to England, but he declined and returned to Genoa. After a short residence in Florence, of which little is known, making his stay in Italy on the whole five years, he once more bent his steps towards home, where he had every reason to expect a cordial welcome, as his fame had already reached Antwerp, and the citizens were naturally disposed to do him JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. 153 all honour. As soon as he made his appearance he was overwhelmed with commissions. The first work of importance which he undertook was an altar-piece for the church of the Augustines, represent- ing " St. Augustine in Ecstasy, surrounded by Angels." Sir Joshua Reynolds condemns it, because it wants any large mass of light ; but this was not so much the painter's fault as that of the monks, who insisted on his making the saint's garment black, instead of light, as he had originally intended it. Another instance of equally mischievous interference occurred with regard to a painting, the subject of THE MYSTIC MARRIAGE. FROM A PAINTING BY VANDYCK. which was " The Raising of the Cross," which he was to execute for the canons of the collegiate church of Courtray. To give his countrymen a full idea of his powers, he resolved to exert himself to the uttermost upon this work, and succeeded to his own satisfaction. On taking it to the church, the canons, instead of allowing him to put it up at once in the place it was intended to occupy, insisted upon having it unpacked befofe their eyes, that they might at once form a judgment upon its merits. After remonstrating in vain, he complied with their request. They glanced at the canvas conterap- 20 154 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TllEASUKES EXHIBITlUx\. tuously, declared tliat the Saviour's head was like that of a porter, and that the others were masks, and turning upon their heels, told Vandyck that he himself w^as a mere dauber, and left him. The picture was, however, put up, but the canons, in their cross stupidity, refused to come and look at it again. The painter was, however, not long in getting justice : connoisseurs saw it, artists saw it, travellers saw it, and the voices of all competent to form an opinion were unanimous in its favour. The canons now found themselves in an awkward position ; but they were either cowardly or magna- nimous enough to join in the general admkation, and, as some amends for their former insults, met in ^ full conclave, and commissioned him to paint two other pictui'es. He sent back their order with a contemptuous refusal, telling them there were enough daubers in Courtray without sending to Antwerp for them. Vandyck stayed in Flanders about five years after his return from Italy, and during the whole of this time was very busily employed. Thirty pictures, at least, were painted by him for various churches and chapels, in addition to a great number of portraits of the most celebrated men and women of the age — the Archduchess Isabella of Austria, the Cardinal Infanta of Spain, the Queen-Mother of France, and her son Gaston, Duke of Orleans, both of whom were then residing in exile at Brussels ; equestrian portraits of the Prince Thomas of Savoy, the Duke of Aremberg, the Duke of Alva, Aiitonius Triest, Bishop of Ghent, and the Abb6 Scaglia. He also painted portraits of most of the leading generals who fought in the Thirty Years' War — Gustavus Adolphus, Wallenstein, Pappenheim, Tilly, the Emperor Ferdinand, and others. Passing over a hasty visit to the Netherlands, during which he painted portraits of the Prince and Princess of Orange and their family, we shall proceed to notice Yandyck's residence in England, as the period of his life possessing, doubtless, most interest for our readers. The immediate cause of his coming over is not known ; there are no traces of a direct invitation from the king, but it is more than probable that the sudden restoration of his patron, the Earl of Arundel, to the favour of Charles I., which he had lost by the marriage of his eldest son, Lord Maltravers, with the Lady Elizabeth Stuarfc, daughter of Esme, Duke of Lennox, had something to do with it. He arrived in London in the beginning of April, 1632, and met with a very cordial welcome from the king, who assigned him apart- ments in the Blackfriars and a summer residence at Eltham, and appointed him principal painter in ordinary to their Majesties. Within three months after his arrival he conferred upon him the honour of knighthood, accompanied by the gift of a gold chain, to which was attached the royal portrait set in brilliants. By this time he had painted the family group containing Charles, his wife, and children, which now hangs in the Yandyck room of Windsor Castle. He was henceforth kept in constant employment either by the king or by the nobility; and in October, 1633, the former settled a pension of <£200 a year upon him — a large sum according to the value of money at that day ; and this, com- bined with his private earnings, enabled him to gratify Ms extraordinary love of display, a failing which he must have contracted by his residence with Rubens, who was very wealthy. His establishment was now kept up on a scale of gorgeous magnificence, as he aspired to rival the court nobility in dress, equipage, and entertainment. He made a practice of inviting all those who came to sit for their portraits to remain and dine with him afterwards, so that he might have an oppor- tunity of observing theii* expression more closely, and amending his sketch. He was very fond of music, and affected to be a great patron of those who made it their profession. Owing to the king's custom of rowing down to his house in his barge, and sitting with him for hours at a time in his studio, it became the fashion amongst the nobility to do the same. His house consequently became a regular place of resort — a species of morning lounge for the fine gentlemen of the day. As they were, of course, all given to gallantry and intrigue, Yandyck must needs be so too, and managed to spend very large sums of money \ipon divers fair ones, whose favours he enjoyed. The natural consequence of all this folly was, that his constitution began to give way, being undermined by luxurious habits, indolence, and dissipation, and his circumstances becoming embarrassed, he is said to have been silly enough to seek to retrieve his fortunes by the aid of the philosopher's stone, for which he searched diligently for a long while, we need hardly say, in vain. The king saw what a sad life his favourite was leading, and wisely concluded that the best remedy for all bachelor ailments was matrimony. He accordingly got him married to Miss Maria Ruthven, the daughter of an eminent physician, who had suffered a long imprisontnent in the Tower, during the VANDYCK. 155 preceding reigix, upon a false charge of treason. The lady was poor, but high-born, and she and V^andyck, for aught we know to the contrary, lived very happily together. The painter now applied himself almost wholly to portrait painting, and neglected history. There are few old families in England which cani^ot show one or more portraits of their ancestors from this painter's hand. He, however, executed a good many historical pictures, most of them New Testament subjects, for his kind patron. Sir Kenelm Digby ; but he aspired to something which should prove a still better exposition of his talents than anything he had yet achieved. Rubens had painted some splendid pictures upon the ceiling of the banqueting-room at White- hall, and their richness was so great, that something of the same kind was evidently needed upon the walls also. Yandyck therefore proposed to the king, through Sir Kenelm Digby, to execute a series of pictures illustrative of the history of the order of the garter. The scheme pleased the king, and he ordered the designs to be prepared forthwith, with the intention of having them worked in tapestry ; but upon coming to calculate the expense, he found it would amount to .£75,000, ' an enormous sum, considering the then state of the exchequer, which the people of England had made up their minds upon no account to replenish till Charles began to mend his manners and reduce their grievances. So Yandyck' s proposal was laid aside for the present. The same sad necessity caused the prices which he charged for the pictures executed for the royal family to be cut down greatly ; and altogether, between bad health and pecuniary embarrassment and the political troubles, the period between 1635 and 1640 was a dull time enough for Sir Anthony Yandyck. To shake off his melancholy, lie undertook a journey to Paris, hoping to obtain employment at the grand gallery of the Louvre, which Louis XIII. was then about to decorate with paintings ; but in this he was disap- pointed, and returned to England after a sojourn of two months in the French capital. He found but a poor prospect before him here. The Parliament and the Poundlieads were carrying things with a high hand, and were certainly inspired with no love for such ungodly vani- ties as painting. In March, 1647, Yandyck saw the royal family, who had so long been his kind friends, dispersed ; and his patron, the Earl of Strafford, was brought to the scaffold in the May following. One calamity followed another ; gaieties were over ; the nobility had weightier business on hand than getting their portraits painted. London was filled with stern Puritans, who never lounged in studios. So Yandyck did what was very natural under the circumstances — became sick unto death. Charles had just returned from Scotland, and on hearing of the illness of his old friend, offered a gratuity of one hundred pounds to the physician if he succeeded in saving his life. It was all in vain, however. The gossip of courts, the favour or neglect of princes, the breath of popular applause or civil discord could trouble him no more. He died in December, 1641, at the early age of forty-two, and lies buried in the north side of the choir of St. Paul's Cathedral, near the tomb of John of Gaunt. He had one daughtei' by his wife,^ named Justiniana, who married Sir J ohn Stepney, of Prender- /jast, Pembrokeshire. Their last descendant. Sir Thomas Stepney, died in September, 1825. From Yandyck' s portraits we learn that he was handsome, lively, and intelligent-looking. From contemporary chronicles and gossip we learn that he was graceful in his carriage, and winning in his manner. He was generous to a fault, extremely sensitive, and, as we have already said, was vain and fond of show. Many of his historical paintings displayed the highest skill. One of them, " Christ Crucified be- tween Two Thieves," Sir Joshua Reynolds pronounced one of the finest pictures in the world. His Iieads always display wonderful expression, deep pathos, and a refinement carried in some instances to the verge of delicacy. But to see him in his glory, we must traverse the galleries of our old nobility, and see his knights and dames of the seventeenth century looking down on us fi'om the blackened canvas, with their grand air, their haughty but not unpleasing dignity. HIS PORTRAIT. Anthony Yandyck was in pel*soti tall, handsome, elegant, and distinguished for that je ne sais quoi which constitutes the gentleman. When he returned to England in the year 1629, after an absence of ten yeimi, ho became the idol of fashionable society in London, at that time the most exclusive and arrfttocratic in the world. The innate elegance of his manners and. l)earinfc, the prace and aym- 156 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. VAN DER BORCHT. FROM A PAINTING BY VANDYCK. metry of his form, and the noble cast of his fea^-ires, ingratiated him immediately with Charles I., who felt as great an admiration for the man as he did for the painter. The King had planned building a mansion expressly for Vandyck, as the foUo^g entry in a journal kept by the Queen proves : " To speak to Inigo Jones about a mansion for Vandyck." Charles never had an oi)portumty of realising VANBTCK. 157 CHARLES I. FROM A PAINTING BY VANDYCK. this project, but he assigned to his flivoiirite painter a winter residence at Blackfriars and a summer villa at Eltham. The expression of Yandyck's face is peculiarly pleasing; a high forehead, large and brilliant eyes, a well-formed nose, and lips curved and expressive, with a chin that denoted energy of purpose and great decision of character. With all these personal advantages, set off as they were by 158 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. a peculiar fascination of manner and the prestige of genius, he could not fail to be a great favourite with the fair sex, who, in England more than elsewhere, are ever ready to acknowledge the claims of genius. The beauties of the court of Charles I., haughty and disdainful to others, were courteous, kind, and condescending to Vandyck. Like all men of genius, he was a passionate admirer of female love- liness ; and as the faii'est forms that ever graced a drawing-room frequented his atelier, in the abandon of their admiration of his art and friendship for his person, he was several times the victim of their charms. Lady Stanhope, whom he admired at one time more than any of the rest, and whose portrait he reproduced in every possible style, was attached to Carey Raleigh. The likenesses which Vandyck, in the ardour of his love, embellished with all the resources of his art, she only used for the purpose of exciting the admiration of her lover. Love, however, like friendship, only exists where there is reciprocity, and Vandyck, meeting With no return, transferred his attentions to Margaret Leman, a famous courtezan of the time. This innamorata was of so jealous a disposition, that when the painter eventually married Maria Ruthven, she determined, out of revenge, to cut off his thumb, and thus put an effectual stop to his painting and popularity. He managed, however, to baffle her vengeance, and Margaret Leman, after a new liaison with an officer who perished in battle, died by her own hand. "MADONNA AND CHILD." In the picture from which this engraving is copied, contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibition by J. Smith Barry, Esq., Vandyck has reproduced in his "Madonna" the features of a young girl of the name of Anna Von Ophem, to whom he was in early youth devotedly attached. The pupil of Bubens, whose style and colouring he endeavoured to rival, if not surpass, Vandyck executed many sacred subjects in a manner worthy of his great master. His " Madonna and Child," though an early pro- duction, is remarkable for the saintlike tenderness of tho expression, and the heavenly beauty of the features of the face. One of the sacred subjects which Vandyck painted about the same time — "Christ in the Garden of Olives " — was so much admired by Rubens, who was most lavish in his praises of it both at home and abroad, that Vandyck presented it to his master, and Rubens in return gave his pupil the best horse in his stable. At the time that Vandyck painted his "Madonna and Cliild," he had not as yet made the galleries of Venice the objects of his enthusiastic study, or imbued his style with the spirit and tints of Titian, who, at that time still in his prime, was the acknowledged prince of colourists. He gave an additional warmth and brilliancy to the tone of the Flemish School, and borrowed his rays of beauty from the sun of the great Venetian master. At Venice, then a flourishing commercial city, he was covirted by all that was noble and eminent in rank, fortune, and talent. He greatly improved his style of portrait painting by the study of Titian's originals. His manner became more refined, and to a Rubens founda- tion he add^d a Titian superstructure. This picture was sold to Lord Netsford .for .£1,890. " THE CROWN OF THORNS.*' No painter of anjr school, whether national or foreign, has left behind him such admirable repre- sentations of the Saviour. " The Crown of Thorns " unites all the peculiar excellences of this great master. There is a sublimity of resignation in the expression of Christ, and at the same time a grandeur and divinity, which cannot fail to impress the most careless or irreligious spectator. He seems in all his representations of " the Son of Man" to have been inspired with a kind of holy fire. Whether he represents Him alone on the mountains, in the solemnity of night, with the black canopy of the heavens above Him, while Jerusalem looms from afar in the dismal twilight, or whether we behold Him in the majesty of death, stretched at length on the lap of the Holy Virgin, who, like Rachel weeping for her children, will not be comforted because He is not, — everywhere the figure of the Saviour is instinct with the same inexpressible divinity of feature and of form. There is, indeed, nothing in the whole rcinge of art more touching to contemplate than the appearance of the Son of Man. x^^ rei^resented by Vandyck, alono on Golgotha, deserte'l by his disciples, in darkneap and in suffering. VANDYCK. 9 ♦'QUEEN HENRIETTA MARIA AND FAMILY." Eno-land is rich in the productions of the great Flemish master. At Windsor Castle the Vandyck G-allery contains the finest collection in the world of his paintings. When Yandyck was settled in Eno-land as painter in ordinary to the King, his first duty and occupation was to reproduce, in great numbers and in every possible variety, the likenesses of the King, the Queen, and their children. In the picture we are now analysing the Queen Henrietta Maria holds in her arms the young Princess Maria, while the unfortunate Henrietta of Orleans is at her side. The dogs — an Italian greyhound and two of that breed of spaniels which takes its name from the unhappy monarch — add to the domestic character of the picture. The haughty beauty of Queen Henrietta, whose violence of cha- racter and French predilections contributed so greatly to the misfortunes of her doting husband, is well represented in oar engraving from the original picture. The straight nose, the large and expressive eyes, the full lips, and the finely chiselled chin, are indicative of the overbearing cJiaracter of this French princess, whose alliance with the plastic English monarch was a curse both to himself and his country. In the distance we have a view of Hampton Court Palace, a favourite residence of Charles I. and of his profligate son, but now converted into an asylum for indigent scions of the nobility, and for the widows and children of distinguished naval and military officers. In the Yandyck Gallery at Windsor Castle there are several portraits of Queen Henrietta Maria ; but the most celebrated painting which Yandyck ever produced, and of which he made himself four difierent copies, was that of " King Charles I. on Horseback." The two best specimens are at Windsor and Blenheim Castle, near Woodstock, the seat of the Duke of Marlborough. ♦*THE MYSTIC MARRIAGE." " The Mystic Marriage " is a picture in which the handling, the drawing, and the grouping, atone to the admirer for the abstruse, incomprehensible, and trance-like idealism of the subject. Rome's " La Pia " and Flanders' " La Devote,'' as she has been well named, never produced a con- ception in which the union of both could be more clearly traced than in the idea that the faith of the pious canon, Herman J oseph, entitled him to be united in mystic marriage with the Yirgin Mary. The conception is purely Poman — the execution in the richest Flemish style. Yandyck' s great master, Publbns, might himself have sketched the benign and graceful form of the mystic bride, who would have in her richly rounded and glowing beauty all the voluptuousness of Pubens' " Yenus," but for a certain dignity and chaste reserve both of attitude and expression, and which forms the " sentiment " of this singular picture. The " Chanoine " gazes upon the mystic bride with a countenance literally radiant with heavenly love, sublime faith, and spiritual ecstasy, and as he is a handsome, full fed, muscular monk of the Flemish school, it required all the delicate genius of Yandyck not to portray — instead of the adoration of the saint — the love of the man. Yandyck, always famous for his hands, has seldom surpassed those of the Yirgin and this " bienheureux Herman Joseph," of the " Order of the Premontres /' and the timidity with which he extends his hand, and the dignity with which the Yirgin touches it with the tips of her taper fingers, explain the nature of the mystic nuptials, in which the aspiring ardour of the highest degree of faith has brought down the condescending love of " the lily of Eden's sacred shade." The centre figure, an angel, with rich, waving hair and heavenly smile, profiers for the Yirgin "s acceptance the trembling hand of the adorer ; and a looker-on, whose countenance expresses awe, reverence, and love, complete the group. The crown, the tresses, and the drapery of the Yirgin, are in Yandyck' s best style. There is a noble matronly composure about the whole figure, which is admirably contrasted with the light drapery of the angel — his silken locks and outspread wings — and the somewhat formal, heavy robes of the bridegroom. The accessories are in good keeping — a simple, massive pillar, a stream of heavenly light, and a graceful lily, the Yirgin Mary's emblem. "ADMIRAL NICHOLAS VAN DER BORCHT." " Admiral Nicholas Yan der Borcht " is a masterly, full-length portrait, in which all the peculiari- ties of Yandyck are apparent. There is a certain mannerism about this great genhis ; but where is 160 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. the genius without it 1 It is not merely a mannerism of attitude and handling, but of expression. Just as all Lawrence's beauties had a smiling archness, which his critics designate " meretricious," all Yandyck's faces have a mournful dignity. They may smile, but there is no mirth in the smile. ** It was a smile Gleaming like moonlight- o'er some lonely isle, Lighting its ruins, and which seemed to say, That 'neath that smile the heart's cold ruins lay." CHILDREN OP CHARLES I. FROM A PAINTING BY VANDYCK. f Contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibition by Her Majesty the Queen.) We remark this same mournful dignity in the delicate features of the First Charles, and in the harshei- but still handsome lineaments of Admiral Van der Borcht. It is a fine and graceful portrait — graceful in spite of the full Dutch nether garments, to which even Yandyck's pencil could impart no grace. The rest of the costume is picturesque and effective. The hair must have had a cropped appearance in those days of periwigs, but is simply and tastefully arranged according to modern notions. The falling collar and the ruffles come out well on the dark '•^ juste-au-corpSy' and the manly, graceful hand points (appropriately enough) to ** The sea, the sea, the open sea. The blue, the fresh, the ever free " — and to the fleet " Our Admiral" commanded. JOHN CASSELL'S ABT TREASURES EXHIBITION. 161 JOHN GASPAR GBVARTIUS, LL.D. FROM A PAINTING BY VANDYCK. "CHARLES I." To the multitudes who have formed their idea of Charles I. from that celebrated portrait on horseback, in which the saint, the martyr, and the monarch are so sublimely blent, this picture by the same artist of tho same Kling (dismounted, and in a very simple and not very becoming dress) will afford little pleasure. In fact, it will, in some degree, destroy those illusions v/hich all love to cherish. Charles appears in this picture shorn not merely of the flowing drapery that always adds dignity to the human form, but of his natural importance of height and size. He seems smaller and shorter than in 2i 162 JOHN CASSELL'S AET TKEASUHES EXHIBITION. liis other portraicy, and his features have not that high and lofty delicacy, nor his face that iiioiirDful length, and deep prophetic sadness, which we are accustomed to associate with the name of Cliarles I. He looks like a rather handsome well-to-do country gentleman, with a dash of the Puritan, in spite of the flowing locks, slouch hat, and plume of the cavalier. But what is wanting in spirit, majesty, and expression in the form and face of the King, is in some degree compensated for by the proud beauty and bearing of the noble charger, the glossy arch of whose neck and the fire of whose eye, with the impatience legible in his thoroughbred hoof pawing the ground, seem like a reproduction of that triumph of Yandyck's youth in which he represented himself as St. Martin, on the horse which Bubens, his great master, had given him. The form of the attendant squire is graceful and spirited, and the hand which partly restrains and partly caresses the flowing mane of the gallant steed is in Yandyck's best style. The scene is a rich and leafy nook of English woodland ; and the distance and the middle distance are aerial and picturesque. The portrait of Cliarles I. on foot was valued in the first instance at 80,000 francs, tlieii at 100,000, although Charles had only paid Yandyck c£100 for it. THE CHILDREN OF CHARLES I." Yandyck has immortalised the children of his royal patron. Even if the name of king should become as odious in England as it was once at Home, and princes and 2)rincesses the objects of mockery and derision, the portraits of this great master would survive the wreck of royalty and carry down to the remotest posterity the names of these three children of the martyred king. So enduring are the triumphs of art, so transitory the possession of the pomps and vanities of the vv^orld. The first person in the group is the Princess Mary, or rather the Princess P-oyal of England, for she was the eldest of the children of Charles I. and Queen Henrietta Maria, his consort. The Princess Mary was born November 4:th, 1631, and was baptised in St. James's Chapel by Dr. Laud. She was very early betrothed to the Prince of Orange, an alliance which proved most advantageous to the house of Stuart; for the young Mary, when left by Queen Henrietta under the care of her mother-in-law, the Princess of Orange, became greatly endeared to the people of Holland. She was not, however, exempt from the malign influences which affected more or less every member of her ill-starred family. The winter of the year in which her brother was restored to the throne of his fathers, she was attacked with the small-pox. The fatal practice of bleeding repeatedly while the eruption was appearing, deprived the unfortunate patient of every chance of rallying. Under the violence of the disease and the murderous treatment of her doctors, the Princess Mary succimibed only a fcAv days after her brother the Duke of Gloucester had died of the same disease. She was only twenty- nine years of age at the time of her death. Her niece, Queen Mary II., died in her prime of the same scourge, after having been subjected to the same fatal treatment. The second person in the group is the Princess Henrietta, afterwards married to the Duke of Orleans. The descendant of this marriage, in the person of Ferdinand of Modena, claims to be the nearest representative of the Stuarts, and, but for the Act of Succession which excluded for ever from the throne all persons professing the Roman Catholic religion, the lineal inheritor of the British crown. She was born at Exeter, June 16, 1644, and died a few months after her doting mother. Queen Henrietta Maria, on June 15, 1670, at the age of twenty- six. There are too many reasons for believing that the unfortunate princess fell a victim to poison, though her cousin, Mademoiselle de Montpensier, declares that she died of cholera morbus. The Prince of Wales, afterwards Charles II., is the other person in the tableau ; who, with great natural advantages, a clear head, a ready wit, fasci- nating manners, and a good presence, although he was by no means handsome, was the most profligate sovereign that ever swayed the sceptre of the British empire. Though it is more than a himdred and eighty-five years since his death, society has scarcely recovered from the demoralising influence of his reign. Charles II. was born on the 29th of May, 1630, at the palace of St. James. He is described as a strong fine baby, but by no means remarkable for his infantine beauty. The King rode in great state that very morning to return thanks for the birth of his heir and the safety of the .Queen, at St. Paul's Cathedral. During the royal procession, a bright star appeared at noon-day, to .the great astonishment and admiration of the populace. A cix^cumstance so propitious was, of course, VANDYC'K. 1G3 in a superstitious age, the subject of many comments, and a Latin epigram, witli tlie following transla- tion, was presented to the King, as a congratulation on the birth of the prince : — Wlien to Paul's Cross the grateful King drew neai, A sliining star did in the heavens appear. Thou that consultest with bright mysterie?, Tell me what this bright wanderer signifies. Now there is born a valiant prince in the West, That shall eclipse the kingdom of the East." Prince Charles was baptised on Sunday the 2nd of July in the same year, in the chapel of St. James's, and the ceremony of the royal baptism was for the first time performed in this country for an heir to the throne after the form prescribed in our Book of Common Prayer. Laud, Bishop of London, Dean of the Boyal Chapel, officiated, assisted by the Bishop of Norwich, Boyal Almoner. The sponsors, strange to relate, were that zealous Boman Catholic monarch, Louis XIII., his bigoted mother, Marie do Medicis, and that Protestant champion, the unfortunate Palgrave, who joined in answering that the heir of Great Britain should be brought up in the tenets of the Church wliich neither of them professed. The Duke of Lennox, the old ostentatious Duchess of Richmond, and the Marquis of Hamilton were the proxies for these incongruous sponsors. At the restoration in 1660, the poets who commemorated the event alluded, in their congratulatory addresses, to the star which had shone at his birth in the following lines : — " The star at his birth shone out so bright, It dimmed the duller sun's meridian light." Charles I. had three other children, a son, born on the L3tli of May, 1628, who only survived hi; birth a few hours j the Princess Elizabeth, who died young ; and the Duke of Gloucester, who fell a victim either to small pox or the ignorance of his doctors. "JOHN GASPAR GEVAHTIUS, LL.D." Dr. Gevartius Avas born at Antwerp, in 1593. He was educated in the first instance at the J esuits' College in his native city, and afterwards at Louvain and Douay. He left the latter place for Paris when about twenty years of age, and after profiting by a residence of some years in the French capital, during which he became acquainted with most of the most eminent scholars of the age, he returned to Douay, where he obtained the degree of LL.D., in 1621. He was distinguished in various departments of literature, and as a poet, philosopher, and controversialist he slied lustre upon his country and his name. The portrait has great artistic merit. The expression is life-like, and the colouring, which has stood the test of more than two centuries, has only been mellowed and improved by the lapse of time. • "FRANCOIS SNEYDERS." The portrait of Frangois Sneyders, the celebrated Flemish painter of hunting scenes, animals, and still life, has all the characteristics for which Yandyck's style was so remarkable. The face is highly pleasing and intellectual, and yet there is that sad and chastened expression with which Sir Anthony always managed to invest even his most lively portraits. The forehead is high, expansive, and intel- lectual, the eyes large and well formed, the nose Grecian, and the mouth and chin highly expressive. We shall have occasion very shortly to notice at length the subject of this portrait, and shall therefore postpone our remarks upon the man until we analyse the merits of the painter. "FRANCOIS LANGLOIS," PUBLISHER, OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. Frangois Langlois lived in an age when a strict censorship was exercised over the press; any breach of the law, as it then stood, v/as punished not only with imprisonment but, in some cases, even with death. The severity of the })unishment did not, however, prevent the publication of innume- rable pamphlets, pasquinades, and immoral works. Guy Patin, in his letters, has mentioned the names of several publishers and printers who were iuiprisonod for publishing unlicensed attacks upon 161 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. V A N- DYC l ir OT.^ p. SNEYDERS. PROM A PAINTING BY VANDYCK. {Contributed to thi Art Treasures Exhibition by the Earl of Carlisle.) Cardinal Mazarin. A bookseller of the Palais Royal, named Vivenet, was sentenced to tlie galleys for six years for this offence ; and in the same year a whole family of printers and publishers were punished with even greater severity for the same offence. The eldest son was hanged, and the mother, who was forced to be present at his execution, was afterwards publicly flogged, while her younger son was condemned to the galleys. So frequently, iiuleed, in tliose days of tyranny and oppression, was a viola- tion of the infamous laws of the press visited with capital punishment, that even as late as the year VANDYCK. 165 1694, a printer and a publisher were both hanged, a woman sent to the Bastille, and two other per- sona incarcerated, for publishing some strictures upon the marriage of Louis XI Y. with Madame de Maintenon. The dangers they incurred induced many authors who would not allow themselves to be gagged to publish French books in Holland and Switzerland, whence they were secretly introduced into France. Even Pascal had much difficulty in publishing his "Provincial Letters;" and we find that for this offence Francois Langlois, whose i)ortrait by Yandyck we have reproduced in our engraving, was sent to the Bastille. Lacaille, in his " HiL-^tory of Printing," tells us that when a p. LANGLOIS. FROM A PAINTING BY VANDYCK. French publisher, of the name of Anthony Berthier, had printed, in 1560, a history of Cardinal Riche- lieu, by Auberi, he was afraid to publish it without an especial license. He accordingly procured an interview with the Queen Dowager of France, and explained to her that he could not venture to publish Auberi's work unless her Majesty would vouchsafe him her especial license and protection, because many people, now powerful at court, but whose former conduct had been highly reprehensible, would, on account of the impartial manner in which they were treated in these memoirs, bring the publisher into trouble. "Go," said the Queen, "publish without fear, and make vice so odious that virtue alone will be found in France." 166 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION-. In our free and enlightened conntiy, with the full eiijoyment of that inestimable safeguard and boon — the liberty of the press, we can scarcely, in tlie present age, form a notion of the dangers which were inseparable from the trade of publisher and bookseller. !Fran9ois, the subject of our engraving, commenced the business of publisher and bookseller in the year 163-1. He published many works on architecture and the arts. In his time, every publisher had a peculiar mark which he affixed to all his works, and the distinctive mark of the works of Francois Langlois was the columns of Hercules, with this inscription, ^^Non ultra.'''' He was a great traveller, and brought back with him many curious books and engravings, of which he disposed at a considerable profit. He came to England, and before he quitted London our Charles I. made him some very handsome presents. He was a wonderful performer on the bagpipe, and in the two portraits which have been preserved of him he is represented with this instrument in his hand. The best of these portraits was painted by Vandyck, and has been several times engraved. The other, which was the work of Yignon, and was engraved by Marriette, has not the name of Langlois affixed to it. But it is impossible to mistake the features of the man, although his dress is more fashionable than in Yandyck's painting, and his hat is adorned with feathers. In our picture the artist has taken his sitter in a moment of repose. Langlois has either ceased playing, or is about to commence. SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE, P.R.A. >T GLAND is the nursery of portrait painters. There is in our national character a propensity to individualise which makes portrait-painting in England a lucrative employment. The universality of this feeling among ns . is sufficiently proved by the extraordinary number of photographers and daguerrotypists who manage to gain a livelihood by pandering to the national weakness. Sir Thomas Lawrence, the object of our memoir, was an artist who tho- roughly appreciated this characteristic. He knew how to preserve the iden- tity of his likeness, and yet improve npon the original, and how to make his men all handsome and his women all lovely without sacrificing truth or probability. Thomas Lawrence was born at Bristol on the 9th of May, 1769. His first public ifv triumphs were in a very different line from that in which he subsequently achieved immor- r'O tality. At five years of age, in the town of Devizes, he was already popular as an inter- ^ preter of Shakespeare and Milton. Mounted on a table, he recited, to the admiration of his M family circle and of the frequenters of the small country inn at which they were assembled, ' long passages from Shakespeare and Milton, in a voice which was naturally sweet and musical, and to which the naivete of childhood gave additional charms. His ear was early accustomed to the intoxicating sound of praise, and as he had already displayed considerable talent in sketcliing the faces of his admirers, he was considered by all his acquaintance as a prodigy. The instances are rare of early phenomenons turning out great men, but Lawrence was an exception to the general rule. He acquired the first principles of his art at the gallery of Corsham House, and a painting of Bubens was his chief preceptor in the mystery of colouring. At nine years of age he took a secret oath that he would become a painter, and it is recorded of him that he actually shed tears of jealous rage as he contemplated the beauty of his copy. When only ten he had already set np an atelier at Oxford, and was actually taking likenesses at a guinea and sometimes even two guineas a head. So famous was the boy-painter in our old University that bishops, peers, and peeresses, indeed all the principal functionaries of the town, were his clientele. In eight or ten minutes lii,^ skilful hand could sketch tlie outline of a likeness that was deficient neitlier Sm THOMAS LAWRENCE. 167 i' fi"0(3d(>ui, gvv:', iior style, according to the rank or pretensions of the sitter. In after life he often recurred to these early triumphs of his art. To the last he always sketched in chalk the first out- line, covering his canvas with two pictures, of which the one was eventually to disappear beneath the other, and it happened not unfrequently that the first crayon design was so striking and perfect a likeness as to occasion a regret that it had ever been efiaced by the finished production of the painter. We are informed that Lawrence was at this time seized by a kind of stage fever, which threatened to wi'eck all his future prospects. Luckily, the father, who knew better the bent of the boy's genius, managed, by an artifice, to avert the danger. Having a secret understanding with Bernard, the actor, he chose for the debut of his son the play of "Yenice Preserved." Lawrence was to play Jafiier to Bernard's Pierre. All went on well at first, but in a trying scene requiring fire, genius, and inspira- tion — ^in a scene indeed just calculated to make or mar a young actor's reputation — Lawrence lost his presence of mind, forgot the cue, stammered out a few lines,' and came to a full stop. " A dead failure," cried Bernard j and the whole audience, prompted by the father, re-echoed in chorus " A dead failure !" "How unlucky !" said Lawrence; "the stage would more easily have procured a com- petence for my family than painting." London, the vast emporium of talent — London, the great national focus — was the goal of the young artist's aspirations. Nevertheless, great as had been the success of his early efforts, and certain as had hitherto been the proceeds of his brush, he was at first bewildered in the capital. His manners were courteous and popular, his appearance highly prepossessing, and his fame as a portrait painter already well established. His first attempt in London was a great success. The portrait he was commissioned to take was that of Miss Farren, a famous actress, and perhaps the most beautiful woman of her time. The lady was remarkable for the symmetry and whiteness of her arms, and Lawrence, contrary to the fasliion of the time, has represented her with her arms uncovered. Tlie picture was the rage of the season. The ladies, all seeking to rival Miss Farren in beauty, were anxious to be painted in the same st^de. In England fashion is everything. When Yanloo came to London he made a happy hit, and in a very few weeks the whole tomi was in a fever of excitement about him. His door was besieged with the equipages of the nobility and the gentry. More than a hundred hkenesses were on his easel. Appointments could only be procured with much difficulty, and at long intervals, and never without the payment of a large gratuity to the butler, who made a fortune by his appointment book. In the same way, through a lucky chance, Lawrence became the rage ; and although he had many rivals, who surpassed him in originality, in purity of style, and in knowledge of art, there were nono who could compete with him in the opinion of the leaders of fashion. The colouring Avas so bright, the tone so fine and flattering, and the finish so exquisite of his female portraits, that all the ladies ot taste were his constituents, and his success was in consequence secured. Female influence is irresist- ible. Married or single, ladies rule the world, through their husbands, or their lovers, and in mattci's of taste or to7i there is no appeal from their decision. J ohn Hoppner, a contemporary artist, was a proof of this. His style was more chaste, simple, pure, and sublime ; his genius was more original, and his taste more classical ; but he was deficient in the dash, finish, and flattery which had made the fortune of his rival. But what is strange and almost unaccountable in the matter is, not that the ladies should patronise the painter who embellished their portraits, but that George III., who loved truth and hated flattery, should have favoured Lawrence, while the Prince of Wales, whose qualities were all showy and superficial, supported the claims of Hoppner. Perhaps his political opinions (for Hoppner was a Whig) may have gained him the favour of the Prince, who was at the time the great opponent of the old Tory King, for when the tallies were turned, and the Prince came into power, Hoppner was neglected, and Lawrence was the royal favourite. In 1791 Lawrence was made an honorary member of the Poyal Academy — a distinction which he owed entirely to the favour of George III. He was at the time only just of age ; and as by the statutes of the Eoyal Academy none are eligible who have not conq^leted their twenty-fourth year, the title of Honoraiy Member v/as created in his favour. Not long after, the post of sergeant painter to the King became vacant through the death of Sir Joshua Peynolds, and Lawrence was chosen in opposition to 168 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. Hoppner, whose age, experience, and merits entitled him to the preference. This was the great turning point in the life of our artist, and from the date of his appointment his fame and his fortune increased with equal rapidity. 8IK THOMAS LAWRENCE, P.R.A. FROM A VATNTING BY HIilSELF. ( Contrifnded to the Art Treastires Exhildtion hu tha Earl of Chesterfldd ) In 1795 he was regularly elected a member of the Royal Academy. His portrait of Mrs. Siddons was the gem of the Exhibition of 1797, and formed the great focus of attraction. Some fifty years ago every painter of eminence had a gallery of unfinished paintings, in which amateur critics and virtuosi, with whom time was a luxury, wasted their mornings. The cicerone of Sir Thomas Lawrence's gallery had a lucrative berth. He knew how to enhance the value of every painting by pandering to the tuft- hunting spirit of the Londoners. The original of every portrait had, according to his account, a handle JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASCRES EXHIBITION. 169 to his name, and the ears of the spectators were tickled witli the sound of Duchess, Countess, or Lady, varied so as to avoid a monotonous sameness. The fame of the artist increased Avith the popularity of his gallery, and thus the j)ainter and kis ]»ufrer played into each other's hands. To enumerate the number of distinguished sitters who thronged Tjawrence's atelier, would occuiry too much space. All who were remarkable for rank, beauty, wealth, genius, talent, taste, or fashion, were among the number of his clients. In the list of celebrated states- men who owe some portion of their immortality with the impressionable vidgar to his embellishing pencil, we find the names of Canning, Castlereagh, Grey, Aberdeen, Pitt, &c. &c. The eloquence of (Jurran and the genius of Sir Walter Scott beam from the eyes of those speaking likenesses which the great painter has bequeathed to us, of the originals. (\»l'NTESS GOWER AND CHILD. FROM A PAINTING BY SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. HIS PORTRAIT. Our engraving is c()i)ied from a painting of himself hy himself He has seized, as usual, a favour- able moment. The expression of the face is highly pleasing. His high and intellectual forehead, his noble air, his large, soft, and expressive eyes, his chiselled lips and chin, are rendered doubly attractive by the poetical grace, feeling, and inspiration with which he has invested them. In youth liis hair was glossy and abundant, and he allowed it to fill in wavy tresses on his shoulders. The tone of his voice was sweet, musical, and persuasive, his dis])Osition was mild, gentle, and even too plastic, his temper calm and difficult to disturb, his manners courteous and winning, and his conversation lively, humorous, and entertaining. His enemies, however, accuse him of being tuft-hunting and time- serving ; the sensibility of which he made so great display, was, if we may believe their account, only on the surface, and he is charged with fickleness and inconsistency in his friendship.?. His cliaracter, 22 170 JOHN CASSELL'S AET TREASURES EX.HIUiTION. presence, and manners were indeed, like his style in painting, all for effect^ with notliing real, sterling, and genuine about them. Brilliancy without solidity, and charm without depth. But we must re(?ollect that this is the colouring his enemies give to the picture ; and success such as his must have made many hostile to him, and many envious of his good fortune. They cannot deny, however, that he was very good-looking, and that the fascination of his manner, the charms of his conversation, and, above all, the high reputation he enjoyed among men (for that is a talisman all powerful with le heau sexe), made him for a time the idol of the fair. His likeness to George Canning, the Prime Minister, was so great that, when he lost his redundant locks and time and sorrow had left their traces on his features, he was often mistaken for the great statesman. This extraordinary resemblance between ihese tvv^o celebrities caused some very curious mistakes when he was visiting Paris in the year 1825. At that time he was already bald about the temples, and his eyes, always large and full of meaning, appeared more than usually so from the ravages that the melancholia, from which he had long been suffering, had made in his face. «' COUNTESS GOWER AND CHILD." The beautiful portrait from which our engraving is copied was painted when Sir Thomas Lawrence was at the height of his reputation, and at a time when his genius and youthful enthusiasm had been tempered and matured by age and experience. The portrait of Lady Gower and child was one of the great attractions of the Exhibition of the Boyal Academy for the year 1828. In his representa- tions of female loveliness, no painter of any age or country has ever surpassed Sir Thomas ; and the Exhibition of this year (the last but one to which he contributed any of the productions of his genius) was rich in his delineations of female loveliness. His portrait of Lady Lyndhurst was considered a chif-d'ceuvre, and his likeness of the daughter of the Right Hon. Wm. Peel excited the admiration of all beholders. A critic remarks : " His portrait of the infant daughter of Mr. Peel almost rivals his justly famous picture of Lord Durham's child." Of Mrs. Peel's likeness, exliibited the year previous, a contemporary critic remarked : " We conceive this to be among the loveliest, and if so the highest, achievements of modern art." And perhaps the term " modern " may be received as anything but an invidious distinction in this particular instance, for we doubt if the old masters themselves have fur- nished us Avith more fascinating transcripts of female beauty than have fallen from the pencils of lieynolds, Lawrence, &c. &c. We mean, of course, in the way of portraits ; for in the ideal we have not approached them. The male portraits of Titian, and some of his followers of the Venetian and Poman schools, and also those of Penibrandt and Pubens, possess a vigour, a vitality, and an indivi- duality which have never since been approached ; but their female portraits are much less distinguished from those of our own day, and of that which preceded it; not, however, by a deficiency of skill on the part of the old raasters in this department, but by an access of it in their modern rivals, for we will not call Reynolds or Lawrence imitators of any school whatever. *'THE CHILDREN OF C. B. CALMADY, ESQ." The portraits of these two lovely children, No. 99, in the catalogue of the exlribition of 1824, were the gems of the collection of that year, and have ever since excited the admiration of the world. Una- nimous, however, as is the judgment of the critics upon the merits of the piece, we cannot help think- ing that the children have an exuberance or rather massiveness about them which rather detracts from the grace and poetry of the conception. The excessive paleness of the one is in strong and unpleasing contrast to the redundant colouring of the other ; and the features of the child who looks us full in the face, though glowing with health, life, and animation, are somewhat too coarse and rude for her gentle and refined parentage. The mother, who was the best judge of the accuracy of the likeness, and moreover a woman of taste and talent, thus speaks of the portraits : — " The beautiful difference he has preserved in the two children's colouring is lovely. They have both fair skins, but yet so totally unlike — Laura's glowing and rosy fairness, if one can call it so, and Emmy's eiltirely different and pearl-like tints, which he has shown in the most obvious and wonderful manner— so completely characterisir^g the two children." It SIR rnOMAS LiWllEN'CE. 171 i«, liowever, curious that the French, who are exceedingly fond of reproducing this cJtef-d'osuvre of our great portrait painter, invariably tone down the rustic exuberance of the children, and make them in their copies more delicate and refined. They sacrifice the faithfulness of the imitation by diminisliing the dark blue of the shade in the neck of the youngest child, and by softening the pui'ple reflection on the infant's legs. But although we cannot entirely approve of the colouring, the beauties of the piece are indisputable. There is in the expression of the child in profile an exquisite sensibility, and the joy of the rosy infant wh.o holds up its cherub-like hand in the childish ecstasy of some momentary impulse, whilst its leg presses on the lap of its sister in the abandon of carelessness, is simple and natural. The foreshortening of the limb in all its infantile redundancy, and the baby softness of the fat little hand in the air, are evidence of the care and study which the painter has brought to bear upon the pictiu'c. The history of this masterpiece is highly interesting, as it shows the character of Sir T. Lawrence in a very faA'^ourable light. An engraver of the name of Lewis had often suggested to Mrs. Calmady that her two children, Emily and Laura, would make excellent subjects for a painting, and that Sir T. Lawi'ence would be eager, if he only saw the children, to paint them upon her own terms. Some little time, however, intervened before an opportunity occurred of presenting them to Sir Thomas Lawrence, whose prices at that time, advertised on his mantelpiece, were from six hundred guineas a full length, down to one hundred and fifty, which was the cost of the smallest head. In July, 1823, Mrs. Calmady obtained an interview with Sir Thomas, who was much struck with the surpassing beauty of her children, and ofl!ered to paint them both for two hundred guineas — a, sum very much below his usual charge. Mrs. Calmady, who is our authority, says : " I must, I supi)ose, have looked despairingly, for he immediately added, without my saying a word, ' Well, we must say one hundred and fifty pounds for merely the two little heads in a circle and some sky, and finish it at once.' " Early the next morning the artist commenced his sketch, and Mrs. Calmady expressed such unbounded delight at the chalk drawing of the children's heads, that the artist kindly said, " That he would devote that day to doing a little more to it, and would beg her acceptance of it, as he would begin another." In the sketch both the faces were full, and the child whom we now see in profile looked more lovely than in her side face. There was, moreover, a greater softness and delicacy in the sketch than in the finished painting. Sir Thomas w^as more proud of this picture than of any other he ever l^ainted, and often repeated, during its progress, that it would be the best piece of the kind he had ever painted. He was remarkably fond of children, and managed most successfully to relieve the tedium, which his infantile sitters experienced, by relating stories to them, that he improvised, and by occa- sionally rollicking and romping with them. The children were thus kept in good humour, and returned the compliment by relating anecdotes from their nursery repertoire about " Dame Wiggins," " Eield Mice," and " Easpberry Cream." The eflfects he produced were excellent, but still they did not quite satisfy him. After in vain attempting to catch the playful attitude and expression of Emily Calmady, whose shoe he had stolon, he exclaimed, " How disheartening it is, when we have nature before us, to see how far — with our best efforts and all our study — how very far short wc fall of her." When, after many interruptions, the portraits were finished. Sir Thomas declared, " This is my best picture — I have no hesitation in saying so — my best picture of the kind ; one of the few I should wish hereafter to be knoAvn by." ''PORTRAIT OF GEORGE IV.'- Lawrence painted numerous full-length portraits of George IV. in his Garter Robes, from one of which our engraving is copied. He was paid for them at the rate of three hundred guineas each — less than one half of Sir Thomas's regular price. In writing to his sister Anne on this subject, he says, " His Majesty has seemed to make it a great point that pictures — his own portrait and others — should be instantly finished. I was with him on Monday at Buckingham House, from betv/een three and four to half-past six. He then commanded me to attend him at Buckingham Ho\isc on Tuesday, at four, which I did, staying with him till half-past six. He then confirmed his former appointment to sit to me at three on Wednesday, but which, by the advice of the physicians, he subsequentiy 172 JOm CASSELL'S ART tREAStJRES EXHIBITION. declined." Immediately after Ins coronation the King sent for Sir Thomas Lawrence, and directed him to paint a full-length portrait of him in his coronation robes, seated in St. Edward's chair, with his regalia, as he appeared at the altar in Westminster Abbey. CHILDREN OF C. B. CALMADY, ESQ. FROM A PAINTING BY SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. " MASTER LAMBTON." , The beautiful painting of which this engraving is a faithful copy, was contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibition by the Earl of Durham. None have excelled and few have ever equalled Law- rence in the colouring of the human complexion. In designing sucli subjects as " Master Lambton," the medium through which he saw was not simply cov.Ieur de rose, but cordeur de rose el de lis. Whenever the opportunity offered, he seized, with the instinct of genius, the most pleasing expression of the face, and, as we see exemplified in the portrait of Master Lambton, he made the likeness depend more upon that expression than even upon the form of the face or the features. He repudiated the corrupt fashion which had obtained among contemporary painters of abandoning the draperies and the backgrounds of portraits to inferior artists, and of devoting their undivided attention to the head and figure. Sir QRORGR IV. PROM A PAINTING BY 8IR THOMAS LAWRBNOB. 174 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXUIBITIOK. Thomas Lawrence's accessories are some of the most striking parts of his pictures. The velvet jacket and trowsers, in the original of our engra\dng, have a smoothness, a glossiness, and a silken glory which surpass in richness the beauty of even the Genoese texture. Though some of liis portraits of ladies are considered his cliefs-d' oeuvre, such, for instance, as "Miss Farren," afterwards Countess of Derby, and "Mrs. Siddons," there is no portrait more characteristic of his style than "Master Lambton." The boy was originally clothed in yellow ; but it was objected by the critics that the browns of the gravel and rocks forming the back-ground of the picture would thus j^roduce a disagreeable monotony. Lavvrence, therefore, changed the yellow to red — a colour but little suited to the contemplative nature of the subject. But whatever are the flaws which criticism may discover in the colouring, the conception is good, and the effect of the whole very pleasing. The Honourable Charles William Lambton, com- mouly called Master Lambton, was the eldest son of Lord Durham by his second wife, Louisa Elizabeth, the daughter of the second Earl Grey, and vras born in January, 1818. He was seven years of age wlien his likeness was taken by Lawrence. We quote from a periodical of the time the following criticism of this celebrated painting : — " This is the most exquisite representation of interesting childhood that we ever beheld. The simple action, and sweet expression of infantile nature which we see in this portrait were never excelled by Sir Joshua Reynolds in his happiest moments. The boy is seated amid some rocky scenery, enjoying, apparently, a waking dream of childhood, and, for the moment, unconscious of external objects. His attitude is simple and natural — just as a child might throw himself down on a green bank after being fatigued with sport, when the flow of, his animal spirits subsides, without being exhausted. His dress being of crimson velvet, is, of course, very rich ; yet it never attracts the attention for an instant from that soft look of innocence, and those engaging eyes, which reflect the loveliest light of a pure and liappy mind. It is, indeed, one of those works which make the painter to be forgotten in the reality of the creation whicli he has produced. It speaks directly to the feelings, in the very voice of nature, and at once fascinates the heart. The colouring is warm and chaste, the execution marked mth equal feeling and accuracy." The conmiission to paint the likenesses of the Allied Sovereigns who visited England in 1814 had been intrusted to Sir Thomas Lawrence, but the stay of their majesties was so short, and their time so fully occupied with State afiairs, that the artist had no opportunity of performing the difficult but lionourable task assigned to him. At the congress assembled at Aix-la-Cliapelle, in the year 1818, to settle the boundaries of the European kingdoms, he was more fortunate. The selection of Sir Thomas Lawi^ence from among all the painters of the world for this arduous and delicate duty was creditable, alike to the artist and the nation to which he belonged. In a letter written in the summer of 1818 to his old friend Mr. J. J. Angerstein at Vienna, he thus speaks of his mission to Aix-la-Chapelle. " The terms on which I undertook this mission were, to be paid my usual prices for the portraits, and one thousand pounds for travelling expenses and loss of time. My journey to Home will be on the same. These appear to be liberal terms, and I am sure are neant as such by the Prince. The first was of my own pro- ]:»osing, when the question was asked me ; but I must still look to the honour I have received, and the good fortune of having been thus distinguished in my profession, as the chief good resulting from it, for many unavoidable circumstances make it of less pecuniary advantage." He encountered several contretemi^s in the execution of his mission. The most formidable was the non-arrival, through mismanagement in the conveyance, of the two portable rooms which the Govern- ment had had constructed for him, and which contained his canvas and all his painting mathnel. These two rooms were to have been erected in the gardens of the hotel occupied by Lord Castlereagh, who was our ambassador at Aix-la-Chapelle. Alluding to the delay in the arrival of these rooms, he says, in a letter to Mr. Farington, dated the 5tli of November, 1818, "The temporary rooms, for which Lord Castlereagh had destined a part of his garden, not having arrived, the magistrates of this city granted me the use of part of the large gallery of the Hotel de Yille, which was immediately fitted up as my painting-room, and it is certainly the best I ever had. The building itself is of vast size, and the length and height of the gallery and the portions of it reserved for me are all in proportion to it. SIR TIIOM/iS LlY^llENCE. 175 It lias lliruc large wiudows, one iiortli j and though it is of great dej^th, from an excellent German stove, it is of the most temperate heat throughout. The magistrates took the right tone, not considering it as a boon to an individual, in which they might not have been justified, whatever might be his sup- posed professional talent, but viewing it as an additional honour to their city that the allied monarchs honoured its Hotel de Yille with their frequent presence for this purpose, in conformity with the desire of the Prince Regent of England. "A few days after the departure of the Emperor of Kussia (he had left with the King of Prussia to attend a review of Kussian and German troops) the Emperor of Austria condescended to fix a day for his coming, and, punctually at the hour, I had the honour of receiving him in my new painting- room, and the result has been that from the first sitting to the last completion of the likeness (for it is finished) I entirely succeeded, I may truly and accurately say, to the delight of his ofiicers and atten- dants and of numbers of the people of Aix-la-Chapelle, by whom he is exceedingly beloved, crowds lining the terrace and halls of the Hotel de Yille on his departure, and shouting forth the enthusiasm of the heart for their former sovereign. Yesterday was his sixth sitting, and he sits to me once more for the hand, the face being entirely completed. I had some difficulties to encounter. His counte- nance is rather long and thin, and, when grave, is grave to melancholy ; but when he speaks, benevo- lence itself lights it up with the most agreeable expression, and making it the perfect image of a good mind. He lives in all the state of imperial majesty, with splendid state equipages, &c. &c., and of right takes precedence of Kussia.' He sums up the account of the success of his mission to Aix-la-Chapelle in a letter to his niece, dated November ^6th, 1818. "My exertions," says he, " have been re^^aid by complete success ; the family attendants and subjects of each sovereign unanimously declaring that the portraits I have taken are the most faithful and satisfactory resemblances of them that have ever been painted, aiid the general voice of all uniting in common approbation — a word that I assure you is much below the impression I use it to describe." " Providence has enabled me to give the fullest exertions of my facvilties to this arduous business, and a coincidence of rare circumstances has given a profes- sional distinction to it that has never yet occurred. " Sent here by royal command, the magistrates of an imperial city, in which for centuries the emperor has been crowned, granted me the principal gnllery of the town-house for my painting-room ; and to this the three greatest monarchs in recent political importance have condescended to come to be painted by me — the Emperor Francis sitting to me seven times, the Emperor Alexander (including two for a drawing) seven times, and the King of Prussia six, the average time in each sitting being two hours ; and in the result, and even during progress, my exertions being accompanied and crowned with the most complete success." The success of this mission was certainly the greatest event in the celebrated artist's career ; and can we wonder if the man who had been closeted so often for so many hours with the crowned heads of Europe, and whose hand the Emperor of Russia had held affectionately in his own for several minutes, became ever after a tuft-hunter ? In 1819 he accomplished one of the great objects of his ambition. In a letter to Mr. J. J. Anger- stein, dated Yienna, 3rd of January, 1819, he says, "To visit Pome has been one of those day-dream-j that I have frequently indulged in ; and the circumstances under which I may now gratify that wish are perhaps the most favourable that could have been imagined, unless I had procured an ample for- tune and proceeded thither at my entire leisure." He left Yienna for Pome on the 3rd of Maj^, 1819, and so great was his impatience to reach the Eternal City that he slept every night in his carriage, except one, while he was en route. He reached Rome on the lOtli of May, 1819, and his first impres- sions were unfavourable. A closer insj^ection, however, of the glories of that Rome who is or was the mistress of the world, made him change his opinion. In writing to Farington from the Hotel Grande Bretagne, Rome, May 19, 1819, "I came to Rome," he says, "by the Earlo Monte road, through magnificent scenery, and, with one day's exception, fine weather, catching my first view of St. Peter's on an exceedingly fine morning between six and seven o'clock. Mr. Thomson and Mr. Howard can well imagine the pleasure of that moment, a pleasure increasing every fifty yards till I entered the Porto del Popolo, when (what will they say to me?) I found Rome small. If, howevei-, they are indignant at this, tell them the injustice has been amply punished, for I am at this moment 176 JOHN CASSELL'S AET TEEASUHES EXHIBITION. overpowered with its immensity and grandeur. I have thus brought you to Bome. and have given you the exact, the opposite, the true impressions on my mind." In a letter addressed to Lysons some six weeks later : "Of Rome I can say nothing to you, but express fruitless wishes for your being here, and feelings of increased astonishment and admiration and affection for it ; that its greatness MASTER LAMBTON. FROM A PAINTING BY SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE. { Contriluted to the Art Treamies Exhibition by the Earl or Durham J and beauty, the remains of its earlier grandeur, are many of them on so vast a scale, and convey such an idea of power and habitual notions of the magnificent and great, that they seem less exertions oi men as they now are than the equal and ordinary productions of another scale of being ; their ^^erv pavement seems that of a race of giants, whilst the exceeding beauty and the hues and tints and cor- JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. 177 responding harmony of the sky, give a charm to the whole effect that divests it of every gloomy and depressing feeling, and fixes the mind in a state of the purest admiration that it is possible for it to enjoy." He painted much while at Rome, but the portraits of Pope Pius YII. and Cardinal Gonsalvi were the most remarkable of his productions. " If what I have done here in the portraits of the Pope and the Cardinal," says he, in a letter to Farington, of the date of July 2nd, 1819, "be compared only with my own works, 1 have had complete success ; and may truly say to so near a friend that, as an artist, I have nowhere been more popular than at Rome." He set out on his return to England in the latter part of December, and travelled so leisurely that he did not arrive in London till the 30th of March, 1820. Mr. West, the venerable President of the Royal Academy, died on the 10th of that month, and the day after Lawrence's arrival in England he was, with the exception of two votes, unanimously LAWWiNGE P., ^-1. CABASiON DEL. L. QUa/ARDIN S. THE DUCHESS OP SUTHERLAND AND DAUGHTER. FROM A PAINTING BY SIR T. LAWRENCE, P.R.A. elected to that vacant post of honour. In a letter to his brother Andrew, dated Russell-square, Good Friday, 1820, he says, " I came yesterday morning. I knew not there was to be an election of Presi- dent of the Royal Academy in the evening till a few hours before it. I did not go to it, but with the exception of two votes, I was unanimously elected. It is very cheering to me to receive this unso- licited mark of the confidence of my brother artists on the first day of my return, after an absence of more than a year and a half" This brother, to whom he was sincerely attached, died on the 31st of July, 1821, just about the time he was completing his splendid picture of George lY. arrayed in his robes as Sovereign of the Order of the Garter. The productions of our great portrait painter formed the subjects of first-rate engravings, and we know of no artist of the English School whose masterpieces have stood the trying test better of a reproduction in copperplate impressions. The painting of "The Children of C. B. Calmady, Esq.," was engraved by Mr. Doo, and that first sketch of the same subject to which we alluded in our critical 23 178 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. analysis of the piece, was beautifully etched by Mr. Lewis, to whom Sir Thomas Lawrence was a most liberal patron, as he was indeed to all who were connected with liim in his professional career. Though endowed by nature with many excellent qualities, Sir Thomas was essentially a man of the world; he lived in the world and for the world, and in the unremitting pursuit of that wealth which only collateral relations would inherit, he was forgetful of the requirements of the Fourth Commandment. Sir Joshua Keynolds, whom he sought to emulate in fame and fortune, had most unwisely, and, we are certain, most untmly stated that the man who did not work on Sunday would never make a great painter. One Sunday morning, Mr, Lane, the engraver, called upon Lawrence and found him touching up a proof of one of his own engravings. After a few commonplace remarks. Sir Thomas requested Mr. Lane to make the alterations on the stone which he had suggested in the proof Mr. Lane, however, with a firmness which does him great credit, when we recollect how dependent he was on the patronage of the painter, refused to comply, stating, by way of excuse, that he had made a promise to his dying father, that he would never desecrate the seventh day by any secular occupation. He thus read the kind but careless artist a lesson which we trust he did not easily forget. Lawrence was too jvist and generous to resent the pious engraver's refusal. The great portrait painter of the age was, of course, the lion of the London season; and his handsome person, refined manners, and lively conversation secured him everywhere the favour of the fair. At dinner parties he was universally popular ; and he had quite a reputation for public speaking, as his addresses were always short, pithy, and to the point. His voice was musical, and his delivery graceful and effective. In the year 1825, Sir Thomas returned to England from a royal mission on which he had been despatched to Paris; and on the 10th of December in that year he delivered a lecture, which wa^s printed with his own corrections. As a specimen of his style, we extract a short paragraph. " Some difference of opinion," said he, " may have existed on the present occasion. The result, however, sufficiently proves that the Academy are pleased with your exertions. In framing the laws which refer to those exertions, the council and members of the Royal Academy employed the most serious consi- deration and maturely weighed every probable circumstance to which they can apply. It might reasonably be expected, that the known printed regulations of a public body would be scrupulously obeyed by those who are to benefit by their operation, and the most injurious consequences would ensue if they could be infringed with impunity. As this, however, cannot be permitted, the penalty of the fault or the mistake must fall on the individual. The regret, indeed, may be deeply felt by the Academy, since few things can be more painful to it than to see a work of genius deprived of its reward, and the institution itself of the just credit which it might otherwise have gained from it." In these remarks Sir Thomas, with that benevolence for which he was so distinguished, endea- voured to console unsuccessful competitors for the mortification of their failure. In 1826 Sir Thomas contributed his usual number of eight pictures to the Exhibition of the Koyal Academy. The most remarkable and popular was the portrait of the Honourable Mrs. Hope. She is represented as a Fatima of the East, in a turban splendidly embroidered with gold. The 2)icture is valuable as a work of art quite independent of its merit as a portrait. The exhibitions of 1827 and 1828 were equally rich in the productions of Lawrence's genius, for he painted incessantly; and there is no doubt that the unwearying assiduity with* which he followed his profession, coupled with the confinement of his atelier, precipitated the fatal catastrophe of 1829. In the exhibition of 1827 the portrait of Miss Croker was the most admired of all the artist's productions. The subject was young, lovely, and intellectual ; and the artist has managed to translate with consummate skill upon the canvas the play of her expressive features. The exhibition of 1828 was also rich in representations of female loveliness. The Marchioness of Londonderry, with her son Lord Seaham, and the daughter of the Right Honourable William Peel, were the popular favourites. The Peel family were great patrons of Sir Thomas, who received more commissions from Sir Robert Peel for portraits than from any other person, George IV. alone excepted. The exhibition of the Academy for 1829 received the last contributions from the pencil of Sir Thomas during his life. Nothing seemed to predict the sudden eclipse of so bright a star. His fame and his fortune had just reached their culminating point, when in midst of the memories of the past, the glories of the present, and the prospects of the future, the fatal hour arrived. SIR THOMA'S ■ 1.A.WRENCE. 179 Towards the close of tlie year 1829, Sir Thomas Lawrence was more ljusily engaged than he had' ever been in his life ; and although many of his acquaintances assert that they saw no difference in his apiDearance, his intimate friends were uneasy at the sallow and sodden colour of his complexion. He had, however, no anxiety about himself, as his letters sufficiently testify. He was more active than ever with his j^encil and his j)en ; and, in a letter to his sister Ann, whom he loved better than anything else u2)on ejirth, dated 17tli December, 182D, he says : "I am grieved to the soul that urgent circumstances keep me at this time from the comfort of seeing you ; but in the next month I will , certainly break av/ay from all engagements to be with you." But alas ! " Ijhoiame irroposQ et Dieu , dispose.'' Before the end of the first week of that next month Sir Thomas was no more. The sister to ■ whom he was so much attached had received a note from him dated 6th January, 1830, stating that: he coT-dd not dine with her the next day, but must be " content to see him to a late siniple dinner on Friday." He breathed his last on the Thursday preceding that Friday of ossification of the heart, as vfas generally supposed, although some declared that he died from the loss of blood occasioned by the " accidental " slipping of the bandage from the arm in which he had been bled. His deatli was a great national loss ; and his kindness of disposition had so greatly endeared him to all his relatives, friends, and dependents, that their grief for him was lasting and sincere. "THE DUCHESS OF SUTHERLAND AND DAUGHTER." This is a fine, elaborate portrait of the beautiful Duchess of Sutherland and daughter, contributed to the exhibition of the Royal Academy many years ago. The artist represents his heau-ideal of female loveliness seated in a chair, with an air of maternal dignity and repose. Her drapery is dark, rich, and glossy ; and she has on her knee a flaxen-headed child — arch, prett}^, and full of animation- pointing with its finger vivaciously to some object in the distance, to which it is directing tlie mother's attention. Critics have remarked that the child's legs are too thin, too much like " riding-rods," and that the arms bear too close a resemblance to " eel-skins stuffed." They certainly have not the plump- ness and fulness characteristic of childhood. The children of Bubens are too fleshy, and those of Raphael too muscular ; and, in steering between the two extremes, Lawrence has fallen into the error of making his children too lank. In the delineation of infantile beauty, Gainsborough surpassed both Reynolds and Lawrence. He invested his children with all the symmetry and loveliness which charac- terise them in rural life, and gave to their forms richness and fulness, without redundancy. In this portrait of the Duchess of Sutherland, the daughter is introduced very gracefully. The infant is a fine specimen of an English child. Her fair complexion and flaxen hair produce a cherub -like effecl., which harmonises v.^ell with the matronly purity and dignity of the mother's face and form. There is an archness in the infant's features, and a life and animation in the attitude highly pleasing. The 2) )se is very artistic : the finger pointing to some object in the distance, while the leg is thrown back to secure its seat upon the mother's lap. Sir Thomas was a great favourite of King George IV., and had been, if report speaks true, a still greater favourite of the unfortunate Queen Caroline. His conduct on the death of that Avretchod victim of guilt or persecution does honour to his courage and independence of spirit ; for, notwiDi- standing the patronage of the monarch, when the Queen died, he ordered the schools aud library of the Royal Academy to be closed until after her Majesty's remains were removed from Brandenbu rj>- House for interment in her native country. As it was generally understood that any display of sympathy with, or of pity for, this unhappy princess would involve the forfeiture of the King's favour, the Portrait Painter in Ordinary showed no little confidence in himself, or contcm])t of conF^eojiences, by so public an exliibition of grief. For the next three or four years Sir Thomas worked diligently in his atelier, as tjie numerous paintings he contributed to successive exhibitions of the Royal Academy testify. In the spring of the year 1824, while engaged upon the likenesses of the Calmady children, he was interrupted by the arrival of a packet from the King of Denmark, which he opened and read to Mr. and Mrs. Calmady. It contained, in French, his election to the rank of honorary member of the Royal Academy of Den- mark ; and the King's letter was signed, " Voire affeotio7ine, Christian Frederick." Aft(ir liaving read JUUIS KEMBLE AS *' HAMLKT. FROM A PAINTING BY SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE, P. R. A. RECONCILIAHON ; Oil, a SUJTIiB S A1>VI0B FKUM A PAIWIINU liX r. bioNK, A.U.A. fBj the kind vtrmission of Mr. OambartJ 182 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASUllES EXHIBITION. tlie flattering compliments paid to him by the King, Sir Thomas remarked, in hi« usual style of courteous badinage, " The fact is, they have heard I am painting this picture." As a proof of his kind and forgiving disposition, it is stated that when a man whom he had employed in several important transactions took advantage of his knowledge of his signature to forge his name to a cheque upon Messrs. Coutts for two hundred pounds, Sir Thomas refused to prosecute the man for forgery ; and when, the day after the discovery of the fraud, the wife of the man had the impudence to send a pressing letter to Sir Thomas for nineteen pounds due to her husband, Lawrence paid the money. " I would never," said he, " hang a man for two hundred pounds." At that date, the law which made forgery a capital crime was still in force ; and the disinclination which men of feeling and refinement experienced in being the instruments of what they considered a judicial murder, often occasioned a failure of justice in cases of forgery. "JOHN KEMBLE AS HAMLET." The portrait of John Kemble as Hamlet, from which our illustration is copied, is one of the most celebrated of our painter's productions. That it is a theatrical portrait we cannot deny, since the great tragedian is represented in a famous character ; but we do not understand how this detracts from its merits as a likeness. In reference to this noble painting. Sir T. Lawrence thus writes to his friend Mrs. Boucherette, "I am very glad that after 'The Two Friends' you like my 'Hamlet,' which, except my ' Satan/ I think my best work. I must now try, though, to give a something much better, for I begin to be really uneasy at finding myself so harnessed and shackled into this diy mill-horse business, which yet I must get through with steady industry, well knowing that this is the very season of my life when it is most necessary." We shall perhaps never again see a " Hamlet " in which the sublime and beautiful were so blended as in the original of this portrait ; and the artist has preserved with admirable fidelity the likeness of the man and the inspiration of the actor. Sir Thomas Lawrence painted many portraits of John Kemble, some of which are exhibited in the Art Treasures Exhibition, viz., — " J. Kemble as Corio- lanus," contributed by the Earl of Yarborough ; " J. Kemble when Twenty-five," a head, contributed by Combe, Esq. ; and " J. Kemble," half length, seated, contributed by Colonel North. There is not, however, any other likeness of John Kemble in which the grace and dignity of the original are so well represented as in the painting from which our engraving has been copied. SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE'S MERITS. Our great portrait painter had a European reputation. At Paris, at Venice, at Turin, and at Rome, he was as famous as he was in London. He was an honorary member of many of the Conti- nental Academies of Fine Arts ; and the cities most famous in history for the artists they have jjro- duced were proud to do him honoui\ Antonio Canova, the great sculptor, writing to him from Rome, says : " I have had a little draw- ing made of the ' Sleeping Nymph ;' and, in compliance with your request, I inclose it in this letter. I must however declare, that it will afford you but a poor idea of my work, of whicli it is certainly not an accurate representation ; but I know of no one who could execute a design in the masterly and graceful style which is so peculiarly yours. . . . I say again that nothing can perish which has elicited the unanimous approbation bestowed on the stupendous productions of your pencil wherever they have been exhibited." G. Canova adds his testimony to the merits of Lawrence, in the following eulogium upon the portrait of George IV., painted for the Pope : " It is a wonderful production of your animated pencil ; and I join my feeble praise to the universal admiration of the professors and amateurs of the pictorial art, who seem as though they could never sufiiciently eulogise your extra- ordinary production." Oq the subject of the same masterpiece Cardinal Gonsalvi writes to Lawrence, " I must tell you that his Holiness and the whole city of Rome, inhabitants as well as foreigners, agree in pronouncing that nothing was ever finer in the way of portraiture. The head exceeds all imagination. The picture FRANK STONE. 131 is zhG theme of universal admiration, and there is now in Rome a work worthy of your high reputa- tion. It is hung in the Vatican beside the Loggie of Raphaeh M. Camonicini made use of that situation as being the most appropriate. On Sundays and Thursdays it is seen and admired by every- 1)ody. His Holiness desires me to assure you of the pleasure he feels in receiving this superb work, and the lines with which *you have pleased to acco:apany it; and I must also assure you of his esteem and affection." If in the city which has been styled by historians and poets " the mother of arts and arms," his reputation Avas so great and his talent so highly appreciated, we need not wonder at that species of painter- worship witli which his countrymen honoured him. FRANK STONE, R.A. E extract from Bogue's " Men of the Time " the following memoir of this popular artist. Frank Stone originally practised in water- colours. As late as 1846, he continued a member of the Old Society of Painters in Water Colours, to whose exhibitions he had, for twelve years and more, contributed a clever picture or two — " Scenes from Shakespeare," and others of a kind by which his name is better kno^vn — " The Stolen Sketch," " The Evening Walk," &c. &c. He first exhibited at the Academy in 1837 ; in that and the two following years, portraits ; in 1840, " A Legend of Montrose;" in 1841, " The Stolen Interview," between Prince Cliarles and the Infanta of Spain, selected by the holder of an Art Union prize of £200. Familiar to everybody, by the engravings, are the pictures which followed ; " The \ Last Appeal," " The Course of True Love," " Impending Mate," " Mated," &c. &c. Mr. Stone was elected an associate of the Academy in 1851. ''THE SISTER'S LESSON." Frank Stone's masterpiece is the illustration of a tale of surpassing interest. Elizabeth and Clara were sisters, the cherished wards of an uncle, whose greatest pleasure in life had been to gratify their every whim and fancy. Elizabeth was of a disposition which no indulgence could injure ; but Clara, who was by nature hot-headed, self-willed, and somewhat imperious, always acted upon the impulse of the moment, and had often to repent her rashness and impetuosity. Her sister's example and precepts had, indeed, in a great measure, corrected the infirmities of her temper ; but she was still destined to receive a lesson, which the bitter experience of a self-inflicted disappointment could alone impress upon her mind. At the death of their uncle, who had left his property between them, they became their own mis- tresses; and a cousin, of the name of John Bowing, who had long admired Clara in secret, now openly proposed for her, and was accepted. Her warm and impetuous nature had a charm for John Bowring, which can only be accounted for by the entire contrast which it afforded to his own calm and reflective character. Affairs of importance kept Bowiing in Edinburgh during the early part of their engagement, and Clara was much annoyed at the shortness of his letters, and the hurried and apparently careless manner in which they were written. He excused himself on the plea of excessive business and weakness of sight. The appointed time for their union at length approached, and the lover, whose letters had been less frequent t?ian ever, at last wrote to ^)(^g a postponement of the day. Such a request from a suitor who 184 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. PETER PAUL RUBENS FROM A PAINTING BY HIMSELF. (Con'.ributed to the Art Treaautcs Exhibitmi by her Majtsly (he QueenJ had i)rofes.secl so much ardent attachment, was cnougli to have fired a much less irascible temper than Clara's. Without a moment's hesitation or delay, she wrote to break off her engagement ; and, while her anger lasted, she felt all the satisfaction that the revenge of a supposed insult could bestow. Time, however, which softened her resentment, did not extinguish her regret. She had long regarded Bowring in the light of a husband, had associated him with herself in all her future life, and she found she could not easily tear his image from her heart. Her affectionate and watchful sister probed her secret sorrow ; and one day, when Clara was more than usually depressed, requested her to listen to a letter she had just received from John. Clara fired up in a moment, and begged that, as all was at an end between them, his name might never be mentioned. Her sister insisted on reading the cousin's letter, which was to the effect " that, finding his sight was fast failing, he had determined oa JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. .85 186 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. going to London for advice ; that while he was uncertain of the issue, he had written to Clara to dela;y the day of their marriage, as his fate depended upon the recovering of his sight ; and that he had deferred till his return the explanation of his conduct in asking for a postponement of what had been so long to him the object of all his hopes." Clara's gushing tears and changing colour told how deeply she was affected. At length her feel- ings found utterance in the exclamation : " My letter, my fatal letter ! it is all over !" " No," replied Elizabeth ; " aware of the rashness of your disposition, I took the liberty of an elder sister, opened the letter you had sent to your cousin, and disproving of the contents, withheld it ! " Clara could only acknowledge the amount of her obligation and her sense of the lesson she had received by throwing her arms round her sister's neck. In addition to the " Sister's Lesson," Mr. Gambart has published engravings from the following paintings by F. Stone: "The Old, Old Story," "Helena," "Does he Mean it?" "Preparing for Market," and " Returning from Market." PETER PAUL EUBENS, EVERAL of the most eminent painters, both in ancient and modern times, hav^; l)een remarkable for great personal beauty. Erom the days of Raphael to those of Lawrence, this fact has been incon- testable. The better part of beauty is expression ; and the occupation of a painter, Kke that of a poet, tends to refine, to raise, and to cultivate expression ; and when this " mind-illumined face " is one in which regularity of features and brilliancy of colouring unite, the result is such as we behold in the well- known and much-admired portrait of Peter Paul Rubens. Rubens ! There is a glow and a richness in the veiy name ! It is linked in the mind with " rubies " and with " gems," whose price is above rubies, and with the forms of woman traced by that master hand, whose type is the rich, voluptuous Venus of the Netherlands and Germany, which, to those who prefer the * ' ri^e and real, To all the nonsense of the heau idealy^ seem, in the gorgeous, glowing graces, to make all other types of loveliness look pale, faint, and shadowy! That Rubens's cJiefs-d' oeuvre of redundant beauty are exactly to our o-vvn taste, we cannot assert ; because, if we love Rubens much, we love truth more. There is a homely saying, that " every eye has its own beauty ;" and we think that it is not an English eye that can delight in Rubens's women as women. As works of art, and specimens of Hebe bloom, of almost real flesh and blood — of muscular development, and waim, palpitating life, they are perfection j and, doubtless, seem so to those accus- tomed to their plump prototypes in the country Avhich sent a Queen to England and a wife to Henry VIII. in the shape of " Ann of Cleves." We all know what the remorseless fiend, bluff Harry, said of that royal bride. Yet, in Germany, " Ann of Cleves " was a beauty. Certainly, the longer we gaze at Rubens's women the lovelier they seem to us ; and this is because they are true to nature — rather a full fed and plebeian nature, but nature still. While we sicken of the impossible beauty inferior artists love to imagine, those large eyes, witli eyelashes which, in real life, to be so apparent would (if in proportion) be as thick as whip cord — tiny mouths — straight, long noses — streamers of ribbon-like hair — and waists with which their owners PETER PAUL RUBENS. 187 could not live a week — \vm if^rn, as we gaze on Rubens's women, to love tlieni, because, though some- what coarse, they are so true ! The birthplace of Peter Paul Pubens has been, and still is, the subject of furious controversy. It is encouraging to the sons of genius to see how eager great cities are to claim a great painter. Nor cities alone. Nations contend for the honour of having given birth to a " monarch of the mind." And in this case, those two great classes which used to divide mankind, the aristocracy and the democracy (before there was " middleocracy " — greater than either), dispute to which belonged that gorgeous prince of painters — Peter Paul Pubens ! " Who shall decide when doctors disagree ?" And tiiey have disagreed furiously about the place of Pubens' s nativity. Dr. Wallraff, in 1822, caused two inscriptions to be placed on the faqade of a house of no great pretension, in the Pue des Etoiles, at Cologne ; one to inform the curious that in that house Peter Paul Pubens was born ; the other, that Marie de Medicis, Queen of France, had closed her eyes in the very room in which the great painter first opened his : and bitterly did, and still do, the Belgians resent the words, " Our Peter Paul Pubens, the Apelles of Germany." From the voluminous and prejudiced controversies on the subject of Pubens' s native place and his descent, we — after a calm and dispassionate investigation — arrive at the conclusion that he was one of that numerous class in whose veins patrician and plebeian blood are blent witli the happiest result — the dignity and beauty of the aristocratic element gaining strength, tone, colour, and expres- sion from an admixture which equally affects and benefits the moral, intellectual, and physical man ! Never wa,s there a more brilliant specimen of this mixed race than in Peter Paul Pubens, who, probably descended from a noble Styrian family, claimed as his ancestor Barthelemi Pubens, who accompanied Charles V. to the Diet of Worms, and shone amongst the most brilliant cavaliers of the Emperor's court at Brussels. To some critics the gorgeous style of the great grandson of the courtly Barthelemi Pubens appears to be a natural consequence of his knightly descent, and of the memories and traditions of court life and luxury that must have coloured his boyish fancy. But it is certain that, whatever his father's family might have been, his mother (and the mother of a great genius always seems, in the history of that genius, to have been the presiding spirit) Marie Pypelincx, was a native of Antwerp ; that his father, too, was born there ; and that the only point at issue is, whether during the time that the Pubens family took refuge from political persecution, revolution, and fanaticism in Cologne, Peter Paul, the seventh son, was born there. It is well known that his elder brother Philippe first saw the light at Cologne ; and it is not likely that, in those days of political disturbance, quick tempers, and slow travelling, his mother returned to her native Anvers merely to give birth to Peter Paul there ; for those were not the days of clairvoyance. She could not know that this child would be a painter — still* less, the prince of paintei's : and though we regret the accident that robs Antwerp of its undivided right in the great Rubens, we believe that, though the Pubenses were a family long established at Antv/erj), the pride of that family, and the idol of all the lovers of art, was born at Cologne, 1577. Peter Paul's own assertion, " I was brought up at Cologne till I was ten years of age," carries this conviction along with it. Peter Paul commenced his studies at the Jesuits' College at Cologne. He was remarkable for his quickness, ability, and application. He lost his father (who had been a peaceful man, a sherifi' of Antwerp) in 1587. The terrible religious feuds, which had driven the Pubens fjxmily from Antwerp, had ceased. Antwerp was tranquil ; and the mother of Pubens returned thither, and showed a groat deal of energy and talent for business, in the way in which she contrived to recover a gi'cat j)art of her property. It was from his mother that Peter Paul Pubens inherited that invaluable spirit of order and economy, that astute, careful, and perhaps grasping disposition, which, although it made him many enemies and detractors, caused him to be accused of avarice and suspected of double-dealing, made him 30 successful as a politician, so useful to the princes of his time, and so alJe an architect of hi.s own great f< -rtunes. tS8 John CASSELL'S art TREAStJRES EXHIBITION. THE FLIGHT INTO EQIPT. FROM A PAINTING Br RUBENS IN THE ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. For ourselves, we think we see, throughout the life of Rubens, traces of his early training amon^ the J esuits of Coloofne. From a pupil of the Jesuits, the young Peter Paul Rubens became a page (it was a fashion of those days) to a lady of quality, the widow of the Count de Lalain. tETER PAUL RUBENS. 189 THE DESCENT FKOM THE CKOSS. FROM A PAINTINQ BY RUBENS. (A Sketch of which is contributed to the Art Treasures Exhibitum by R. S. Ilolford, Esq.) 190 JOHN CA?SELL\S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. The silken sloth, the vapid gossip, and the idle, aimless life he led in this capacity, soon disgusted the active, aspiring mind of youthful genius. Rubens had a vocation ; and he felt it. He entered the studio of Adam Van Noorfc, at that time a historical painter, of some renown as a colourist, but whose chief claim to be remembered consists in his having been for four years the master of Rubens. From Van Noort's atelier Rubens removed to that of Otto-Venius, painter in ordinary to the Archduke Albert and the Infanta Isabella, governors of the Low Countries. Otto-Venius was learned, a traveller, and a courtier ; but he was a man rather of erudition than genius — a poor imitator of Correggio ; and Rubens only acquired from Otto-Venius polished manners, a passion for les belles lettres, and the full taste of the allegorical in painting. After four years frittered away in the studio of Venius, Rubens' s strong sense and resolute will came to the aid of his great, though hitherto fettered genius, and he determined to visit Italy. Otto-Venius kindly presented his darling pupil to the Archduke and the Infanta, who, enchanted with the personal beauty and elegance of the young artist, gave him letters of recommendation to several crowned heads. But Bellori says Peter Paul Rubens needed no recommendation ; that he had qualities certain to protect and promote him wherever he went. He says he was tall, well made, of an exquisite com- plexion, a strong constitution ; at once dignified and gentle j his manners noble j his dress rich and tasteful ; " and," adds Bellori, with Italian naivete, " he generally wore a gold chain round his neck." Yet in spite of his fine face, form, manners, and gold chain, we think Peter Paul was fortunate in the patronage and the recommendation of the Archduke and the Infanta. A good introduction is to most what a pedestal is to a statue. In the year 1600 Rubens set oft' for Italy. We must now leave for a time the history of the painter to dwell upon that of some of those great masterpieces of his genius, each of which forms at this very moment a shrine to which pilgrims from all parts of the world resort ; and all who know and feel how closely united are the arts that support and tliosc that adorn existence, how intimate the connection between the useful and the ornamental, and how much the love of the beautiful raises and refines the million, will rejoice to see one of the si^^ongholds of commerce, Manchester, become also the temple of high art, of genius, and fame. Marie- de Medicis, Queen of Henri Quatre, wishing to adorn her galleiy at the Luxembom-g with works of high art, desired Rubens to paint the history of her life, in twenty different pictures. Instead of complying with this rational and practicable request, Rubens, misled by his own passion and the age's taste for allegory, endeavoured to condense the twenty epochs of the queen's life fixed upon, in an allegorical picture of the wildest and most gorgeous abundance of every sort of living creature, and wi affluence of costly accessories bewildering to contemplate. In far better taste was the picture which represents ''HENRI QUATRE INTRUSTING THE SYMBOL OF HIS POWER TO MARIE DE MEDICIS." ^ The portraits in this celebrated picture (wliich for execution and colouring ranks among the very best of Rubens' s masterpieces) are admirable. The great hero-king, above the petty feeling that grudges power to woman, presents, with manly grace and martial confidence, to the partner of his bosom and his throne, the symbol of his power, the ball of independence. And the young prince, afterwards Louis XIII., holding his mother's fair hand, while his father leans on his shoulder, looks up with an expression in which awe of the ceremony seems to contend with the boy's interest in the ball. Marie de Medicis is fiiir, womanly, and stately. Rubens could not paint any female form without clothing her with a greater degree of embonpoint than suits our English ideas of beauty ; but Marie's neck and bust do not ofiend by their voluptuous development as some of his beauties do, and the rich violet velvet robe in which the queen is arrayed, has a gorgeous and regal effect. The architecture, the distance, and the middle distance of this picture are unexceptionable ; but the tall, half-draped, bare-footed figure of some attendant (perhaps of allegorical importance quite incom- prehensible) seems much in the way ; and certainly we should prefer her room to her company ! A little later we will return to trace this great painter's triumphant progress through the old and beautiful cities of Italy ; hiy sojourn in the diflferent schools of ai^t ; his close and conscientious study PETER PAUL RUBENS. 191 of all those great masters with whom his own genius had anything in common — a study which had nothing in it of servile imitation ; since whatever style he adopted, whatever subject he selected, Rubens was still Rubens, in the truth, the life, the energy, the ^^fougue,'' — a word the force of which is but faintly conveyed by the dictionary translation " fire " — of his gorgeous and glowing productions. E-ubens's three first pictures of importance (painted after he had perfected his rich Flemish genius in the school that gave Raphael to the world) were destined to adorn the church of Mantua. The Duke of Mantua was one of Rubens's kindest and most mimificent patrons; and their acc^uaintance arose from their accidentally inhabiting the same hostehy. The succeeding three pictures by Rubens were, at the desire of the Archduke, who governed the Low Countries, appropriated to the church Santa Croce de Gerusalemme. They were " The Crown of Thorns," " The Crucifixion," " The Elevation of the Cross." It was soon after that time, and while at Florence, that Rubens copied Leonardo da Vinci's " Last Supper," and painted the well known and exquisite picture of " The Virgin and Child," in a wreath of flowers, designed by his friend, Breughel de Velours. "THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT." It must always be a subject of regret that Rubens's taste in beauty was so coarse, and that his models, even for virgins and nymphs, were chosen among the blooming but plebeian daughters of the people. In " The Flight into Egypt," how much the charm of this admirable composition is destroyed by the massive, masculine figure of that young, fair girl, " At cnce a mother and a maid whom Carlo Dolce has made so touching, in the girlish grace so sweetly blent with the young mother s pride. Rubens's virgin looks rather like an amazon going to battle, than a terrified mother escaping with her treasure from that massacre of the Innocents of which Joseph had been forewarned. A moonlight, as bright but far more soft than day, is one of the great beauties of this picture. Of all Rubens's masterpieces there is none of which the subject is so harrowing in its sublimity, the conception so masterly, the grouping so efi'ective, the handling so perfect, and the colouring so wondrous, as the justly celebrated "DESCENT FROM THE CROSS." If it is impossible to gaze without thrilling emotions of gratitude, adoration, tender pity, awe, and burning wrath on a small engraving of this sublime picture, how much greater the eftect of the inspired original, in which Life is so life-like and death so ghastly and so deadly, that no one can gaze long and intently on that great masterpiece without feeling as if he was present at the consummation of that last great sacrifice, to which the believing and trembling spectator, be he who he may, owes his redemption ; sceptics have been convinced, and infidels converted by such pictures as these. " Les yeux sunt tous-puissants sur Vdme"" — Men see, and they believe. " The Descent from the Cross " is Scripture brought home to the heart and soul through the medium of the eyes. Who can gaze on that crucified Redeemer, pale in death, and not resolve not to cmcify the Son of God afresh, and put to an open shame the martyred Lord who died for him ? Some hypercritics object to the reality of this picture. They say it is less Jesus in his "three days* sleep" than a Hercules dead for evermore. They complain that already one perceives that ere long ** Decay's eflfacing fingers Shall sweep the lines where beauty lingers ; " that it is too much of "earth earthy," too palpably "dust to dust that there is no gleam of immor- tality ; that it is a picture for the " Sadducees who say there is no resurrection," " nothing beyond the tomb !" Frivolous objections ! Have they never heard of "the agony and bloody sweat" — of " the cross and passion," followed by the holy resurrection and ascension f Our Saviour sufiered death upon the cross in the form of man ; and it was not in soft sleep, but in ghastly death (the agonising death of the cross) that Rubens depicted Him : Rubens, whose inspiration 192 JOHN OASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. was from on high, as that of all true genius. He has done more for the faith and for his own fame by portraying the real than Lesueur, whose picture of the same dread scene some dreamers prefer to Rubens' s, by idealising, or, as they say, spiritualisiTig the final act of the great tragic drama in what they call "the poesy of Christianity !" To them the real grief of the mother is too human ; they say that the Virgin's faith and resignation should have nerved the mother's heart, and that the sentiment of the picture should be "Faith, not Death, Triumphant." Surely "The Ascension" is the subject for that purpose ! Honour to Kubens, who has taken Scripture for his guide, and dared with his immortal pencil to tell the same di'ead tale which the Four Evangelists told with pens guided from on high. THE MARCH OF SILENUS. FROM A PAINTING BY RUBENS. It is a curious fact, that the construction of Rubens's house was the origin of this picture. To enlarge his abode, he had infringed a little on the premises of a company of arquebusiers. A lawsuit was commenced against him by them, when M. Rockox (Rubens's friend) persuaded them to accept a compromise, for which purpose Rubens undertook to paint a picture for their chapel, in the Antwerp Cathedral. This picture is divided into three compartments, all of them representing scenes in the life of our Saviour ; but it is only with the central piece, " The Descent from the Cross," that we have to do here. It is composed, as we perceive in the engraving, of nine figures ; two working men on the topmost steps of ladders are taking down our Saviour's bod^, with the help of a winding-sheet, which JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. 193 one of them holds between his teeth, and which the other grasps witli his left hand, leaning for support on the arms of the cross ; they bend over, to bear up with their other hands the l)ody of Jesns, which S'aint John, one foot on the ladder, and his back arched, upholds with all his strength. One of our -rilK SIEETING OF MAKY AND ELIZABETH. FKOM A PAINTING BY RUBENS. Saviour's nail-pierced feet touches the fair shoulder of Mary Magdalen; that shoulder over which floats the golden hair that once wiped thOse blessed feet. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus, placed opposite to each other on the middle steps of the ladder, form, with the two upper workmen, a square of powerful but Lomewliat common-looking figures. The Virgin Mary, upright at the foot of the crofi^, 25 194 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. stretches her arms, in all a mother's agony, to her dead son ; and Salome, on her knees, close to Mary, completes the picture. On the groimd lie an inscription (we well know what inscription and who wrote it), a brazen vessel, where the crown of thorns and the nails of crucifixion are dipped in clotted blood. The crowd (then as now, greedy of horrors), feeding on the exhibition of mortal agony, has just left Golgotha to the shades of evening. The sky — black and lowering. Nature seeming to mourn over Calvary — is traversed by a stream of light, which illumines the shoulders and the hair of Mary Magdalen, and the faces of the Virgin, of Salome, and of J oseph. One of the unique and daring triumphs of the picture, in which the bold genius of Rubens is remarkable, is in the contrast of the brilHant white of the winding-sheet with the deadly pallor of the Saviour's body. Even Titian, so famous for the contrast of white draperies with white skins, has never ventured to dispense with a warm tint, like the reflection of sunset, on the folds of the linen. This great masterpiece was placed on the altar in the cathe- dral of Antwerp on the 16th of February, 1621 ; and Rubens received 2,400 florins for the whole work. A miserable sum for so much genius and labour, it seems to us ; but the vakie of money was different in those days ; and we may hope the compromise with the company of arquebusiers, to which it owed its origin, was some profit or some saving to the great painter. At any rate, Rubens lived like a prince among princes j and was always filling his coffers with gold and his house with articles of vertu and treasures of all kinds. ''THE MARCH OF SILENUS," in whidi Rubens's love of allegory (acquired under his old master, Otto-Venius) contends with his own delight in the real and the true, has in it much that is jovial, but nothing that is disgusting. In the hands of meaner artists, Silenus is generally made too revolting. The Falstaff" of Shakespeare and the Silenus of Rubens have much in common. A certain jovial grace, and all pervading good humour, redeems them from the swinish sottishness generally associated with the votaries of the jolly god. The Bacchante has all the abundance of flesh and richness of colouring which Rubens (with his wife Isabella as his model) dehghted to depict. But what offends in the eye in " The Lily of Eden " — the Virgin mother of our Lord — is admirably in keeping with our idea of that daughter of rosy wine, the Bacchante ! The fairies that uphold the reeling deity are — with their low brows, and sensual lips and leering eyes, their strong limbs and weak intellects — what excess makes even the loftiest, far more brutes than men. Even the children look half tipsy; and the life-like he-goat is a toper, we are sure. The overhanging clusters of rich grapes, and the emerald foliage and tendrils of the vine, give a gorgeous richness to this singular picture, '*THE MEETING OF MARY AND ELIZABETH." This painting of " The Meeting of Mary and Elizabeth" is one of the most celebrated chefs-djceuvre of the great Flemish painter. Rubens was of all the eminent masters of ancient or modern times the most prolific. In the Louvre there are no less than forty- three of his productions, twenty-one of which constitute that collection which is known by the name of the Gallery of Medicis. They were brought from the Palace of the Luxembourg, where they had been placed by order of Marie de Medicis, for whom they were originally painted j and they consist of a series of allegorical pictures, which were valued, after the Restoration of the Bourbons, at the enormous sum of eleven millions of francs. " The Kermesse," or village festival, and " The Rainbow," which we shall presently describe, form also a part of the Art Treasures of the Louvre. The first of these landscapes was valued at 80,000 francs in the time of Napoleon I., and at 100,000 after the restoration of Louis XVIII. ; the second at 30,000 francs during "I'Empire," and at 40,000 in the time of the Bourbons. Russia is rich in the productions of Rubens, and " La Visitation," or the meeting of Mary and Elizabeth, from which our engraving is copied, is in the collection of the Imperial Museum of the Hermitage. The conception of the piece is liighly artistic, and the attitude of Elizabeth as she greets the Holy Virgin beautifully illustrative of the des- cription give^i of the meeting in the inspired narrative of the Evangelist. She shows by her expressive gestures as she points to her cousin's form and her own the homage already paid by the embryo baptist to the unborn Redeemer. No other painter has translated upon canvas so boldly and graphically the passage in St. Luke : " And Mary arose in those days, and went into the hill country with haste, into a PETER PAUL RUBEN^S. 195 City of J uda ; ana entered into the house of Zacharias and saluted Elisabeth. And it came to paSs, that, when Elisabeth heard the salutation of Mary, the babe leaped in her womb ; and Elisabeth was filled with the Holy Ghost : and she spake out with a loud voice, and said, Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And whence is this to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me ? For, lo, as soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in mine ears, the babe leaped in my womb for joy. And blessed is she that believed : for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord." The handling, colouring, and tone of this picture are worthy of all l^raise ; and although we cannot but regret that the painter has made the Holy Virgin so massive in her proportions, and so much more like the landlady of some Flemish avherge than the virgin bride of J oseph, we fully appreciate the merits of the tout ensemble of the picture. ''VENUS AND CUPIDS," By many pronounced Rubens's chef-d'ceuvre^is a production of which we, whose heait-ideal is not the Flemish Venus, cannot speak with the rapture which some feel or affect. However, wo must own, that in spite of the nudity of the figure of Venus, there is an atmosphere of chastity, a "robe of innocence," sucli as the hymn we learnt in infancy tells us Eve wore in paradise, around Bubens's Venus. She is a fine, handsome, young Flemish matron, who has had three children at a birth, and need not b»ring any one of them up by hand, overflowing, as she does, with the milk of human kindness ; and she is not an unpleasing object to contemplate ; but she has nothing in common mth " foam-cradled Aphrodite, laughter-fed ! " The cestus of the Baphian Goddess would not meet round that substantial waist. The Cupid at the breast is as little like " The miscliievotis Loy, Who uses the heart like a toy," as his mother is like the Cytherea of the poets. There is something sensual, and of the sucking-pig, in the "successful candidate;" but in the Love, while animated by hope, and not satiated by enjoyment — the expectant, aspiring Love, so eager for his turn, there is exquisite grace and beauty. Bossibly, with his passion for allegory, Bubens had a deep meaning in the different expressions of successful and aspiring love, while something of the sickness of hope, too long deferred, may be traced in the anxious and yet weary attitude of the third Cupid. The rose-tree, if rose-tree it is meant to be, is unlike any rose-tree known to floriculture. The queen of flowers is as much misrepresented here as the Queen of Love — which is strange, as Bubens, unlike most great historical painters, excelled in flowers. " Great Homer sometimes nods," and though this picture is a superb specimen of colouring, handling, muscular development, tone, breadth, and grouping, it is more like Charity with her little ones, or Eve with a young fiimily growing up around her, and " nothing to wear," tlian Venus when she had once landed from her sea-shell, and was never seen abroad except when " attended by the Graces." ''SONS OF EUBENS." Bubens was twice married. His first wife was Isabella Brandt, whose redundant proportions he lias reproduced in all his pictures of women: she died in July, 1626. In writing to apprise his friend Valaves of the afiliction with which he had been visited, he says : — " Yes, my friend, I have lost the best of wives. I might — what do I say ? — I ought to cherish her memory, because she was exempt from all the failings of her sex." But Houbraken maliciously remarks that she had, on the contrary, not only many other failings, but one which, although the worst, is unfortunately the most common. Vandyck, the pupil of Bubens, shared with his master, as Houbraken informs us, the heart she had consecrated at the altar to her husband. In some of his subsequent pictures, Bubens revenged the conjugal infidelity of his spouse. In the celebrated piece of " The Last Judgment," a demon seizes in his claws the figure of the resisting Isabella, and plunges with her into the fiery abyss. In the year 1630 he espoused Helen Forment, a lovely young girl of sixteen, who bore him five children; and thus, to use the allegorical language of a foreign biographer of the celebrated painter, crowned with flowers and fruits this advanced period of his life. But Campo Weyerman, in comment- ing upon this preposterous mesalliance (for sixteen and sixty may be mated, but never can be rnatched\ VENUS AND THE LOVES. FROM A PAlKTIiia BY RLBENS. tRTER PAUL RUBENS. 197 THE SONS OF RUBENS. FROM A PAINTING BY RUBENS. tells US that Rubens soon discovered that " the luxuries of a court, a lovely young wife, and the wearing torture of the gout, are three blessings which an old man would do well to eschew." Whether the catastrophe of life which comes sooner or later to all of us was accelerated by gaiety 198 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. or gout, we do not know ; but it is a fact that he did not survive this imprudent marriage very long, and that, notwithstanding the vigour of his constitution, the activity of his habits, and the muscular strength of his frame, he died long before the term allotted by the Psalmist to man. The accompanying engraving, from a painting of his sons by himself, represents, in all probability, two of the children of his first marriage; as, at the time of his death, the eldest of the issue of his second marriage could not have been much more than eight, whereas the taller of the youths in our engraving is evidently between twelve and thirteen years of age. His cast of features is decidedly Flemish, and we recognise in him a likeness to the female face which Kubens so often reproduced on canvas in his sacred subjects. His "Susannah and the Elders" was no doubt copied from his wife, and bears a strong resemblance to this youth. She is, in face and figure, a Yenus of the true Flemish type — -coarse, broad, fleshy, and voluptuous. *'THE RAINBOW." In every style of painting Rubens excelled all his contemporaries ; and whether he attempted history, allegory, tableau de genre, landscape, portrait, animals, or fruits and flowers, he was equally admirable. His merry Chateau de Steen was situated between Yilborde and Malines, and his land- scapes were generally faithful representations of scenes in tile neighbourhood. Such, for instance, is " The Kainbow," from which our engraving is copied. There is a transparency in his light, and a rich- ness or redundancy in his conceptions which have no precedents in nature. The scene of " The Rain- bow" is, nevertheless, essentially Flemish ; and to those who have sojourned in the country, and have made themselves acquainted with the peculiariMes of a Flemish village, and the characteristics of its inhabitants, this picture will be highly interesting. The Flemings are not a go-ahead or progressive nation. In their language, their habits, their fashions, their occupations, their amusements, and their style of buildings, they are pretty much the same as they were in the days of Rubens ; and the country merry-making, which in that country is -called " Kermesse" to this day, and of which he has given so lively a representation, might stand, with little alteration, for a picture of the same scene at the present date. To those who know how prominent a part Rubens the great painter played in the world, his life would be a puzzle, but for the explanation given by his biographers of the mode in which he appor- tioned his day. He always rose early, and was punctual in attendance at morning service. But great moderation in his diet, and regularity in the disposition of his time, were the secrets of his success. Horse exercise, when the weather permitted, a naturally vigorous constitution, and a great enthusiasm in his profession, contributed to the preservation of health, amid all the wear and tear of constant employment. There was a great deal of genuine piety and of strong natural afiection in Peter Paul Rubens. He was at Genoa, feted, courted, and working hard at " the art that can immortalise," when a letter from Antwerp announced that his mother was dangerously ill. Rubens travelled night and day, almost frantic with filial anxiety. He arrived at Antwerp too late. His mother was no more. Rubens was not an ordinary man, nor was his grief of an ordinary kind. Filial devotion is an almost universal attribute of the highest order of genius. " The best heads have generally the best hearts," says a great writer ; and the best hearts are sure to feel most keenly the loss of that first, truest, fondest friend, never to he replaced on earth! She who taught the lip to lisp its first prayer, who watched so patiently over sportive childhood, giddy youth, daring manhood, and whom few good men when they weep over her grave can think of without a self-reproach that they had not cherished her more and appreciated her better a household martyr, a guardian angel !— she seems to all good men where "the late remorse of love" is busy at their hearts, and where love to the best conscience whispers "too late !" Rubens' mother was an excellent mother, though a careful forecasting Vv^oman of business. It was for her children she planned and toiled to recover her estates on her return to Antwerp ;^ and though she denied herself, she never denied them the luxuries and comforts of life. She trained them to habits of piety and labour ; and they loved her living, and mourned and revered her dead. PETER PAUL RUBENS, 199 Peter Paul regretted lier so passionately that for four months he hid himself and his sorrow iu the" Abbey of St. Michael, where this loved mother was buried. And the natural consequence of this indulgence in solitude of a grief so unavailing and so intense, was a fit of that mental malady to which genius is so liable — melancholia. By degrees, however, his active mind recovered its tone ; and genius contended successfully with sorrow for one so dear to fame. The Archdukes of the Low Countries, to prevent his return to that soft and fair Ausonia, for which he pined, and to secure in Peter Paul Pubens not merely the artist, but the diplomatist, at a time when their relations with Holland were complicated and unsatisfactory, bound him to their service by a very handsome pension, which his nephew and biographer, Philip Pubens, calls a golden chain. He took up his abode at Antwerp to keep aloof from the time-engulphing fascinations of the court at Brussels, and to be at hand in case he was needed either as an artist or an ambassador by the princes he served. The truce of 1609, signed at Antwerp and at the Hague, made him hope that peace was restored, at least for a time, and he married the daughter of a very wealthy senator of Antwerp, Isabella Brandt. The style of her beauty is familiar to the world, as Pubens has so often introduced its somewhat gorgeous and voluptuous graces where a more chaste, refined, and delicate type of loveliness would have produced a finer efiect. Pubens bought a large house on the Place de Meer, and had it entirely rebuilt in the Italian style. Between the entrance and the garden rose a glazed rotunda ; and in this museum he collected and displayed all the objects of vertu, gems of art, pictures, statues, busts, bas-reliefs, medals, &c. &c., which he had procured at an immense expense during his travels in Italy, and to which he was constantly adding new and costly curiosities. Pubens's fortune increased with his fame. From the proudest monarch to the simple amateur, none could be content without some work of his j and his prolific pencil kept pace with this immense demand. In every branch of his great art Pubens was pre-eminent — history, allegory, home scenes, land- scape, portrait, animals, flowers, and fruit. He bequeathed to posterity masterpieces in all these styles. Intrusted by j^rinces with the management of political negotiations demanding consummate tact, Pubens often owed his success to the triumphs of his art. His style, naturally rich and gorgeous, acquired additional brilliancy from his intercourse with courts. A truce of twelve years, which had been signed between Spain and Holland, was on the point of expiring, and Belgium, in the year 1619, exhausted and powerless, longed for peace. The execution of Barneveldt, whose impassioned harangues had long fired the democratic party with a hatred of Spain, left the field open to the machinations of the Prince of Orange. Ambitious and unscrupulous, Maurice (the Prince of Orange) was secretly anxious to conciliate Spain, and Archduke Albert favoured his views j but Philip III., King of Spain, dazzled by the prospect of an alliance with England, listened to the flattering suggestions of Count Gondomar, his ambassador at the court of St. James's. From him he learnt that the Prince of Wales (afterwards Charles I.) was commissioned to invade Holland as the ally of Spain, and to ask the hand of the Infanta in marriage. On the other hand, Louis XIII. of France, eager to counterbalance the united influences of England and the French protestants, was negotiating with the King of Spain an ofiensive alhance against Holland, which he stigmatised as " the focus of heresy." A lady of the name of Tserclaes, of high rank, mature age, and great Catholic enthusiasm, was the negotiator between the Archduke and the Prince of Orange, who had already agreed upon the price of his treachery to the seven united provinces, when the sudden death of the King of Spain put a stop to the negotiations. Peace was, however, so necessary to the belligerents, that the expiration of the truce was not imme- diately followed by the resumption of hostilities. The negotiations in which Pubens and the Lady Tserclaes acted the most conspicuous parts were still carried on, and the painter cherished the hope of gathering round Isabella a liberal party, free from Spanish influence, and capable of restoring to the low countries, weakened and wasted by a long war, with the blessings of peace, their wonted prosperity. His motives were, however, misconstrued, his patriotism was stigmatised as interested, and an emissary of Pichelieu's, with some local influence at La Hague, denounced him as an intriguant, who made use of the Lady Tserclaes only as a venal tool. Engrossed as he was by politics, he did not neglect his painting, but the number of his produc- 200 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. tions must appear almost miraculous to any one who had no previous knowledge of the manner in which he apportioned his time. He rose every morning at four, and after attending mass, commenced the labours of the day in his atelier. In his diet he was habitually al)stemious, as he feared the effect of good living upon his intellectual powers. On fine evenings he delighted in displaying his skill, on the ramparts of Antwerp, in the management of a spirited Andalusian horse, whose arched neck and trailing mane he has so often represented on the canvas. With the artistic and literary celebrities of Europe he corresponded regularly ; and with Peiresc, the famous antiquary of Provence, whom Balzac JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. 201 in his valuable letters has described as " a piece of the wreck of antiquity — ^a relic of the golden age," he was on the most intimate terms. It was through the influence of Peiresc that Rubens got leave to dispose of his engravings in France. The privilege, however, cost him an expensive law-suit, in which he was accused of with- drawing large sums of money from the kingdom by means of his plates. These two eminent men managed to obtain the earliest information on all subjects, whether political, literary, scientific, or artistic, and were continually exchanging books and pamphlets in various languages. Kubens's dissertations upon the theory of the human form, written about this time, were some of 26 202 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TUEASURES EXHIBITION. the most original and interesting of liis literary prodvictions. He lays down as a thesis that man made after God's own image, is the prototype of created beauty. Female beauty he considers as second only in the order of things, and as a derivative merely, although it may surpass in elegance and grace the beauty of man. After the fall, Eubens supposes that the form of man became gradually degenerate, and began to borrow from the brute creation some of their characteristics and instincts. He is guilty of an inconsistency (no rare occurrence with Rubens) when he first describes man as a prototype, and then sets him down as a compound of various elements. He recognises in the human figure those three geometrical archety})es — the cube, the sphere, and the cone : the sphere is developed in his head, the cube in his carcass, and the cone in his tapering limbs. The cube predominates in muscular and powerful frames ; such, for instance, as those of heroes and athletes. In the female form, the contour is spherical ; and Rubens sees in the roundness of the waist, the neck, and the shoulders of the fair sex, the predominance of the sphere. In the classical age, the artists borrowed from human models a more correct notion of feminine beauty than Rubens did from the stout and square-built originals he found in his own country. The line of beauty lies between the two extremes ; it is marred by a redundancy or a deficiency of enihonpoint. This Rubens laid down as a rule in his " theory of the human figure ;" but his practice, like that of many a professor, did not agree with his precepts. His women are all gross, sensual, fleshy, and inelegant ; but, at the same time, they are the faithful likenesses of those whom he chose for his models. His Mary Magdalene, in the great picture of " The Entombment of Christ," is the facsimile of the barmaid of some Flemish tavern. ''THE CHATEAU DE STEEN," The country house of Rubens — the favourite haunt of that prolific genius who, like our own great dramatist, " was not for an age but for all time.," This picturesque and castellated country residence, with its embattled walls, turrets, and mimic fortresses — its encircling moat and stone bridge connecting its insular position with the mainland, is the type of the better class of lanclgut, or country seat, in Belgium and Germany. In the architecture of these summer abodes the Flemings aim more at the picturesque and the ornamental than the useful and the comfortable. But as the rentiers of Belgium always spend their winters in town, and only pass two or three of the best months of the year at their " chdteaux de cam- pagne,''' they have no inducement for making them as warm, cheerful, and convenient as the spacious mansions of the English nobility and gentry, so poetically described by a modern poet ; *' The stately homes of England, How beautiful they stand! Amid their tall ancestral trees. O'er all the blooming land." But although not suited, like the " stately homes " of our own country, for a Christmas residence, these Belgian chateaux are very pleasant retreats in the hot months of July and August. Rubens was a magnificent entertainer, very fond of society, and a very agreeable companion. The spacious vestibules of this mimic fortress were no doubt the scene of many a jovial party, to which the genius and renown of the host gave an unwonted eclat. It was situated between Vilvorde and Malins, a coimtry now intersected by railways, which form part of the great continental high-road to the Rhine. Though now traversed during the whole summer season by English tourists, at the time of Rubens the means of locomotion were so few and so expensive that the visits of our countrymen to Holland and Belgium were only undertaken with an especial object, and were often attended with consid citable risk to person and purse. Rubens's picture of " The Chateau de Steen," from which our engraving is copied, is valuable, not only as a c1ief-d^ ceuvre of the great master, but as an excellent specimen of Flemish scenery. • ''SUSANNAH AND THE ELDERS." Rubens could scarcely have selected from the sacred repertoire a subject less edihdng. With Catholics, the Apocrypha, in which the story of " Susannah and the Elders" is found, is of equal authority with the rest of Scripture; and some of the tenets to which Protestants object most strongly are founded upon PETER PAUL RUBENS. 203 passages in the Apocrypha — such, for instance, as praying for the dead. Without entering into any inquiry of the grounds of religious differences between Protestants and Catholics, whose conscientious scruples we equally appreciate and respect, we cannot but feel that the portion of the sacred volume which, for good reasons, we term " Apocrypha," does not furnish the painter of the grand style with subjects so edifying and spiritualising as the rest of the Bible; and we therefore regret that Kubens ever lavished the resources of his genius upon a subject so unproductive as " Susannah and the Elders." Unaccompanied, as it is, with any comments upon the conduct of the two hoary sinners, the picture is decidedly meretricious; and all the richness of the colouring, the life of the figures, the truth of the expression of the respective faces, and the artistic beauty and merit of the whole piece, cannot com- pensate for the objectionable images it must suggest to innocent and inexperienced minds. The undraped form of Susannah is a truthful representation of the Flemish model from which it was copied — ^fair, fat, and feminine, but without any of that grace, dignity, and vestal purity with wloich a Raphael or a Michael Angelo would have invested the same subject. The lascivious leer of the Elder who is tugging at the drapery is revolting in the extreme; and the attitude of the other Elder is even more objectionable, though the expression of his face is partly concealed. The conception of the whole picture is very natural, and the unities are well preserved. ''LA CONCLUSION DE LA PAIX." This beautiful masterpiece is one of the series of the allegorical subjects chosen by Kubens to illustrate the history of his patroness "Marie de Medicis." These paintings are twenty-one in number, and consist of the following subjects : — "The Fate of Marie de Medicis," "Her Birth," "Her Education," " Henry TV. Receiving the Portrait of Marie de Medicis," " His Marriage with Marie," " The Landing of Marie de Medicis at Marseilles," " Solemnisation at Lyons of the Marriage of Henry lY.," "The Birth of Louis XIIL," "Henry lY. Intrusting the Symbol of his Power to the Queen" (an engraving of this celebrated picture appears in a previous number), " Coronation of Marie de Medicis," " The Apotheosis of Henry lY.," " The Government of the Queen," " The Expedition of Marie de Medicis to the Port of Ce," " The Exchange of the Princesses," " The Prosperity under tlie Regency," " The Majority of Louis XIIL," " The Escape of the Queen to the Chateau de Blois," " Her Reconciliation with her Son," " La Conclusion de la Paix" (the picture from which our engraving is copied), " The IntervicAv between Marie de Medicis and her Son," " The Triumph of Truth." The subject of our engraving formed one of the most important events in the life of Marie de Medicis. Mercury, the god of oratory, the messenger of Olympus, and the patron of thieves, — in fact, " A god so various, that he seems to be Not one, but every god's epitome," is of course present, holding in one hand his distinguishing caducem, and with the other presenting Marie de Medicis, a portly dame of Dutch bnild, to the presiding deity of the Temple of Peace. The picture is highly allegorical. The demons of war, belching forth fire and destruction, are writhing witii impotent rage and disappointment at the termination of their reign of terror. The now useless blade, arquebuse, helmet, breastplate, greaves, and gauntlet lie neglected on the ground, and peace and plenty succeed to the devastation of the fire and the sword. After her reconciliation, at Angouleme, with her son Louis XIIL, in 1620, Marie de Medicis returned to Paris. At the recommendation of the Baron de Yicq, who was the ambassador at the Tuileries for the Low Countries, she sent for Rubens, as she wished to enrich the walls of her own palace of the Luxem- bourg with some of the masterpieces of this great painter. He came at her bidding, and was com- missioned by the Queen to illustrate the history of her life in twenty-one masterpieces. Rubens, hov/ever, instead of a bond fide chronicle contained in successive tableaux, painted a series of allegories, in which he has strangely blended the real and the imaginary, the heavenly and the earthly, the material and the spiritual. Christianity and heathenism go hand in hand, history and tradition are so mixed up together, that it is difficult to separate the one from the other ; and the gods and goddesses of Olympus mingle in the tableaux on an equality with the Royal race of France. 204 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. In the confusion of subjects Rubens followed the fashion of the time. He had acquired a taste for this style of painting while stud3dng under Otto Venius, who has written a book upon allegory, adorned with symbolical figures, suited only, in the opinion of Reynolds, for the amusement of children. The gallery of Medicis, however, such as it is, and the other productions of Rubens, which have been transferred from the Luxembourg to the Louvre, are marvels in the way of colouring. The SUSANNAH AND THE ELDERS. FROM A PAINTING BY RUBENS. allegorical history of Marie de Medicis has been reproduced in Gobelin tapestry, and with very goctV effect. Marie de Medicis was fond of watching the progress of her favourite painter in his atelier ; and one day she ordered M. de Bautru to introduce Rubens to a select circle of the ladies of her court. " The Duchess of Guimen^e," said Rubens, " eclipses all the rest by her grace and beauty." " She is, indeed, singularly beautiful," said M. de Bautm : " one of the wonders of the world ! " V LA CONCLUSION DE LA PAIX. FROM A PAINTING BY RUBENS. " Is there, among the ladies oi my court," said the Queen, after a pause of a few minutes, " any one who surpasses in beauty all you have seen in your travels ?" " If I were a Paris," said Rubens, *' I would bestow the golden api)le upon the Duchess of Guimen^a" S06 JOHN CASSEMi'S ART TRRASURES EXHIBITION. " You are a good judge," replied the Queen. Rubins was all his life insatiable for gold. The sums he demanded for his paintings were exorbi- tant ; and his eagerness for immediate payment such, that he often gave great offence to his best customers. The moment he had completed for the Queen her allegorical history, he complained bitterly to one of his friends that he was not paid ; and then trembled lest his greediness for gain should lose him the patronage of the best customer he had ever had. An alchemist, who alleged that he had dis- covered the philosopher's stone, offered to share with Rubens the proceeds of the discovery, if the painter would advance him a smaU sum foj* the completion of his laboratory. " My good Mend," said Rubens, " I have anticipated your discovery by twenty years ; through the assistance of my palette I can turn everything to gold." • Rubens, like Raphael, collected around him a host of promising young pupils, most of whom became, in their turn, great painters. Yandyck, J ordaens, Yan Egmont, Sneyders, and Yildens were among the number. Some of the most famous pictures in the Louvre were the work of the pupils from sketches by Rubens, and were afterwards touched up by the great master. The copper engravings of his best pieces were etched, under his own direction, by Bolswert, Dupont, and Yosterman ; and in some few Instances the engravings are the work of his own hands. The loss of his wife, Isabella Brandt, in the year 1620, was a terrible affliction to Rubens, who could find no alleviation for his grief but in a constant succession of scene and society. He made a tour through Holland, and visited, in his travels, all the celebrated Dutch painters of the time. At the request of Philip lY. he undertook a journey into Spain, and during his stay in the Spanish capital he produced the following remarkable pieces : " The Rape of the Sabines," " The Reconciliation of the Romans and the Sabines," " The Triumph of the Church." His letters from Madrid, vmtten during his visit to Philip lY., give a graphic account of the dissolute manners of the court, of the pride of the nobihty, and of the decKne of the Spanish monarchy. From Spain Rubens passed into Portugal with the intention of spending some time with J ohn, Duke of Braganza. But the prmce, fearing the expense which the entertainment of Rubens and his suite of Spanish and Flemish gentlemen would entail upon him, sent a messenger beforehand to tell him that he could not receive him, as matters of importance required his immediate presence in Lisbon. He begged the painter to accept a douceur of fifty pistoles as a pledge of his regard. Rubens refused the money politely, intimating that he had taken the precaution of bringing with him a thousand pistoles for the casualties of his journey. Obliged to accept for the night the hospitality of a monastery, the painter was struck, the next day, during the celebration of high mass, by a picture on the wall which had all the characteristics of his own style. He made every inquiry among the monks, who were either unwilling or unable to tell him the name of the artist. At last the prior said to him in a tone which was intended to put an end to all further inquiry — " We must not mention the name of the painter." " Not when Rubens supplicates ?" At a name so widely known, the monk hesitated. " The artist," said he, " who produced that picture is dead to the world. He is a monk." "A monk!" exclaimed Rubens j "then he hides his light under a bushel. Father, tell me his name and that of the monastery to which he has retired. He must not remain there, for he was destined to shine like a light before men." The praise of Rubens was too much for the susceptible monk, who, overcome hy the inward struggle between duty and inclination, fell down in a swoon, from which he never recovered. The name of this monk, prior of the monastery, and painter of the masterpiece which had excited so much admiration in Rubens, was Xavier CoUantes. ''THE SERMESSE." The Flemings are a singular people; they cling to ancient habits, customs, prejildices, and pre- cedents with the tenacity of the Chinese. Thanks to English capitalists, railroads have been constructed in Belgium, and trains, in which both the engine-drivers and stokers are for the inost part English, have been substituted for the ponderous barges which had for centuries plied between the different PETER PAUL RUBENS. 207 towns, afc the rate of three or four miles an hour, on the numerous canals which intersect the country, and for the dihgences which crawled at the same pace over the paved roads of the Low Countries; but, in all other respects, the Flanders of the latter half of the nineteenth century is pretty much the same as the Flanders of the whole of the seventeenth. The travellers and tourists who are whisked through the country in express trains are scarcely aware that those striking evidences of enlightenment and civilisation, the rail and the electric telegraph, have introduced few corresponding changes into the country whose level and well-cultivated surface they admire from the windows of their coicpe. Yet so it is. The quaint dress, the barbarous language (a corrupt melange of English, French, and German, and which sounds, in the mouths of the natives, more like the inarticulate gibberings of some savage tribe than the conventional tongue of a European nation), and the media3val mode of life, remain unaltered. Leave the station and stroll a few miles into the country, and you will find that with the rail you have left progress behind you. Everything in the interior is pretty much the same as it was two centuries ago ; and, if you are fortunate, you will light upon a " kermesse," or festival (periodical in all Flemish villages), precisely similar to that which Rubens has so graphically represented in the painting from which our engraving is copied. The Flemish boor is the type of the whole class of boors. He is proverbially coarse, rude, ignorant, awkward, and unwashed; he is elephantine in his gambols, and his gestures, like his gib- berish, are entirely deficient in grace, dignity, and decorum. He is, indeed, but little removed in intelligence from the cattle in whose society he passes so much of his time ; and, if we had no better proof of the fact than the evidence of the Flemish boor, we might almost doubt whether the human intellect is really progressive, so little is he changed, in taste, tone, or manner, from the time " Wiien wild in woods the noble savage ran." Look at the coarse behaviour of these indecent clowns; see how, ritu ferarum^ they are treating their "gentle" helpmates. The piece, in some of its phases, rather resembles a " Rape of the Sabines" than an ordinary village merrymaking. But wild, rude, and even revolting as many would consider the scene in most of its details, it is nevertheless true to nature. Tipsy shout and jollity, Frolic and frivolity," are in the ascendant ; and, although the style of the pictm*e is not that in which Rubens achieved his world-wide reputation, neither Yan Ostade, Teniers, nor Wilkie ever designed any piece more truly characteristic of national manners, Rubens was, par excellence^ a painter of " the grand style." His sacred and allegorical pieces are those upon which his fame principally depends; but the amazing versatility of his genius enabled him to adopt any other style, and make it as much his own as that to which he had devoted his time and energies. The multitude of figures introduced into "The Kermesse," the variety of their expressions, attitudes, and pursuits, make of it an elaborate picture, which the more it is studied the more it will be appreciated. Connoisseixrs familiar with the manners of the Flemish will at once recognise the merits of this masterpiece. Before Rubens left Spain the title of Secretary of the Privy Council was conferred upon him, an honour to which his son Albert was intended to succeed. But titles and orders were all that Philip lY. could confer upon the painter, so bankrupt was his exchequer and so impossible was it to squeeze any money out of the people of Spain. The paintings were, however, paid for by an order upon the Infanta, or rather upon those rich Belgian provinces which never dishonoured any of their sovereign's drafts upon them. After passing a few days at Paris on his route home, Rubens set out for London by way of Brussels. Charles L, a liberal patron of the arts, welcomed him with great cordiality ; and as a proof of the estimation in which he held his genius, created him a knight, and presented him with a magni- fi.cent sword and a diamond collar. At the instigation of Rubens, the King purchased for £20,000 the beautiful cartoons which were for sale in Holland, and which had formerly belonged to the Duke of Mantua. Rubens painted, during his sojourn in England, the allegorical decorations of the ceilings of the palace of Whitehall. The apotheosis of James I. is a meretricious conception, in which the cardinal 203 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. virtues are represented by members of Parliament, and in which Prudence, under the form of Apollo, holds in her hand a cornucopia. For his paintings at Whitehall, Pubens received the sum of £3,000. They were touched up by Cipriani in the year 1780. As he had come to England with credentials from Philip of Spain, he was treated at the English court as an Ambassador Plenipotentiary. JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. 200 FRANCOIS SNBYDERS. An English nobleman one day found Rubens at his easel, and in rather an ironical tone said, " 1 see that the ambassador of His Most Catholic Majesty employs his leisure time in painting." "Say rather," replied Rubens, who thought that the triumphs of art ought to take precedence of diplomatic pretensions, " that I employ my leisure time in doing duty as ambassador." Disturbances again occurred in the Low Countries. The influence of Holland prevailed in Flanders; and Cardinal Richelieu, by means of bribery and intrigue, at last effected his object. Rubens left England for the purpose of negotiating, in the name of Spain, terms with Holland ; but the representatives of the United Provinces, who had compelled the Archduchess Isabella to agree to a treaty with Holland without the concurrence of Spain, refused to acknowledge the extraordinary powers conferred upon Rubens. The Duke of Arschot was commissioned to demand of him his credentials, which Rubens, with a weakness incomprehensible in a man of his genius and position, immediately delivered. The Archduchess, then Regent of the Netherlands, had the meanness to recall her ambassador, who, retiring from office, again tasted in the cultivation of the arts those intellectual delights of which diplomacy had for a time deprived him. The death of the Infanta, which happened soon after, relieved him for ever from the enervating intercourse of courts. Rubens had been four years a widower when he married the young and lovely Helen Forment. Of the consequences of this marriage, and of the influence it exercised over the destiny of the painter, we have already spoken. The Cardinal Ferdinand, Infant of Spain and brother of Philip IV., entered upon his Regency of the Netherlands after the bloody battle of Nordlingen. The city of Antwerp celebrated his arrival in 27 210 JOHN OASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. May, 1635, with, great pomp and parade. Rubens had the sole management of the festival, and designed with his own hand the slightly coloured sketches which adorned the eleven triumphal arches erected along the route of the prince. "The Martyi'dom of St. Peter," in the Cathedral of Cologne, painted in 1636, was the last chef- d'oeuvre of this great master. A letter written by Rubens to the celebrated sculptor, Duquesnoy, who had just at this time put the finishing touch to a statue of St. Andrew, for the cathedral of St. Peter's at Pome, is the latest record we have of his life. " Your glory and renown," said Rubens to the sculptor, " shed a halo round the nation to which you belong. If the weight of years, and a torturing gout, which drains the very fountain of life, did not keep me a close prisoner, I would start at once for Rome, and feast my eyes upon the immortal productions of your genius ; but, as I am denied this gra- tification, I can only hope that we shall have you very speedily among us. Grant that you may arrive before death, which will soon close my eyes to everything around me, deprives me of the inexpressible delight I should feel in gazing upon the marvels wrought by your hand." This touching and gratify- ing letter had scarcely reached its destination, when an attack of his painful malady deprived Flanders of its greatest ornament and the world of its chief painter. Rubens expired of gout in the stomach; on the 30th of May, 1640, in the sixty- fourth year of his age. The nobility, the clergy, the civil functionaries, and the tradespeople of Antwerp, accompanied the funeral to the collegiate church of St. James, where, in a vault belonging to the Forment family, was deposited the coffin which inclosed the dust of this immortal painter. Three days after the burial a funeral service was celebrated in his honour, more costly and magnifi- cent than any that ever graced the obsequies of Flemish prince or potentate. Treasures of various kinds were found in his bureau — precious stones, ai-ticles of vertu, every kind of curiosity ; six gold chains, several rings, keepsakes of difierent sovereigns ; the diamond hat-band which had been presented to him by our Charles I., and which was worth, at least, £2,000 ; ivory figures, crystals, medals, ancient and modern ; agates from the East ; cornelian and onyx seals ; and more than two hundred and thirty masterpieces of Italian, Flemish, and Dutch painters, of which eighty-three were by Rubens. The whole collection was valued at more than a million of francs. HIS MERITS. In every style of art, as we had occasion to state in one of our critical notices of a landscape by Rubens, this great Flemish master was equally successful. His prolific pencil produced, with a rapidity and skill never equalled, in either ancient or modern times, masterpieces in history, allegory, genre^ landscape, portrait, animals, fruit, and flowers. The cornucopia, which he so frequently reproduced upon canvas, was a symbol of the fertility of his genius. Inexhaustible, like that emblem of plenty, he astonished the world by the versatility of his talent. He generally sketched the outline of his pictures with the bmsh — a careless mode of procedure much adopted by the painters of his day. This practice exposed him to the criticism of inaccurate drawing. In brilliancy and freshness of colouring he surpassed the most popular painters of Yenice ; but in the harmony of the different parts, in inspi- ration, grace, and sublimity, he was far behind them. There is occasionally a rawness in his painting, attributable, in a great measure, to the exclusive use, in some of his pieces, of four colours, consisting of the most glaring and the most delicate tints of his palette. But in his backgrounds Rubens is unexceptionable. He has here blended, with consummate skill, in one harmonising whole, the various hues upon his canvas. His portraits, which surpass, in lusty life and animal beauty, the best produc- tions of Titian and Yandyck, are inferior in grandeur and dignity to the chefs-d'oeuvre of these two great masters. Nevertheless, the " Chapeau de Paille," which Rubens prized more than anything he liad done, and which he would never part with, is a marvel of his art. In his classical subjects he is inferior to Poussin, who seemed far more familiar with the forms and fashions of antiquity than with those of the world in which he lived. Rubens excels only in the gross and sensual types of classical art j such, for instance, as Fauns, Satyrs, and Silenuses. In his paintings of animals he always chose for his models the largest models of the bmte creation j the horse, the bull, the tiger, and the lion were his favourite study, because he took a pleasure in watching the development of their muscular powers. In a word, Rubens was too material in all his FRANCOIS SNEYDEKS. 211 conceptions. His men and women have too much of the animal, and too little of the spiritual — too much of the earthly, and too little of the heavenly — in their composition. There is, in consequence, a tiring and disagreeable sameness in all his male and female figures. He had originally formed his ideas of beauty from the redundant forms of his own square-built countrywomen ; and the study in foreign countries of all that was sublime, beautiful, and graceful in classical art, only modified, without eradicating, this vicious predilection. Animal life is everywhere the same j but the change of expres- sion and the play of features, influenced by the fancy, are infinite in their variety. Even in Rubens' s most holy conceptions we still recognise that fatal predominating influence of matter over mind, which so greatly weakens the effect of his sacred masterpieces. In his painting of the " Last Supper," the introduction of a dog under the table, picking a bone, is surely a violation of all harmony and pro- priety. There is not, we tliink, in the whole repertoire of Rubens's paintings a single female figure in which the voluptuous development of the form is redeemed, or spiritualised, by the influence of mind. We do not recognise a face in the collection indicative of that heroic spirit which inspired a Joan of Arc, a Maid of Saragossa, or a Florence Nightingale. There is none of that tenderness, that devotedness, that enthusiasm, that self-sacrifice, which make of women ministering spirits, angels of comfort, heroines, and martyrs. FRANCOIS SNEYDERS. T is a great mistake to confound the several schools of art of the Low Countries. Although topographically so closely united, the Flemish and Dutch repertoires are, in their characteristics, as wide as the poles asunder. Antwerp and Amsterdam, although only separated by a few leagues, and united at one time under one sovereign, have — in art — as little in common as England and Italy. The Flemings, following in the wake of Rubens, cover their square yards of canvas with large and life-like subjects ; whereas the Dutch work patiently at small pieces, which they finish with great skill and precision. The Flemings aim at representing nature as she really is ; while the Dutch endeavour to improve upon their originals by the refinement and polish of their decoration. And this difference, of which we will hereafter analyse the cause, is perceptible in every branch of art, as much in the pieces where figures are the principal objects, as in landscapes, animals, and flower and fruit pieces. There is not the least affinity between the bold and striking landscapes of Yan Artois, Wildens, or even Huysmans of Malines, and those groves or sandy shores so exquisitely finished by the Dutch artists, Ruysdael and Wynants. In the same way, the himting scenes of Philip Wouvermans, the animals of Karel Dujardin, the " still life " of David de Heem, and the fruit and flower pieces of Yan Huysum, are not to be compared, because their merits are so very different in kind, with the panting hounds of Frangois Sneyders, or with his beautiftd fruit pieces and well supplied larders. Had Rubens not been that universal genius we have represented him — had he not possessed the magic power of producing pictures in every style, which were all marvels of art in their way — but had he, instead of being that " admii-able Crichton " of the schools of art, which he really was, devoted his undivided attention to the description of lions, boars, and dogs, tableaux of game, and cornucopias of fruit, Rubens — even the great Rubens ! — himself would not have excelled in this style the inimitable Sneyders. It was, however, from the models of this prince of painters that Sneyders borrowed those characteristics of his art which are in him so vigorous and so captivating. Frangois Sneyders was born in the year 1579, and was, therefore, cmly two years younger than Rubens. He died at the age of seventy, in the year 1649, leaving behind him scarcely any materials for a biography, except what we can gather from the history of his paintings. He received his inst»^uctions in art from Peter Breughel, senior. While under Henry Yan B:\len, lie made consider- 212 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. able progress ; and his introcUiction to Anthony Vandyck — a name to be hereafter immortalised — was owing to the circumstance of their being both pupils of Van Balen. Although Vandyck was much younger than Sneyders, the two artists early formed a mutual friendship for each other ; and, as soon as they were released from the trammels of pupilage, they both offered incense at the shrine of that great artist, who was beginning to shed so bright a lustre upon the Flemish school. They both culti- vated their art, and derived vitality and vigour from the genius of Rubens. With Sneyders especially this was the case. So imbued was he with the spirit of the prince of painters, that Kubens, while he watched the progress of Sneyders, declared that he could fancy the strokes were his, the colouring and style were so identical with liis own. 214 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. HIS PORTRAIT. Francois Sneyders was, like most of the celebrated painters of Lis time, a tall and handsome man. • His features were well chiselled, regular, and expressive ; his forehead high and broad ; his eyes large, full, and lustrous; his nose straight, and well formed; his upper lip covered with an abundant moustache, was glossy and black. His mouth — that most expressive of all the features of the face, and which is, whatever phrenologists may say to the contrary, the most certain diagnosis of the bent of the disposition — was beautifully carved ; while his chin was round, well-shaped, and expressive of firmness and independence of character. There is a melancholy grandeur about the tout ensemble of the face, which both jileases and saddens the spectator. The interest we feel in gazing on this portrait of Sneyders is somewhat similar to that we experience in contemplating Yandyck's Charles I., whom the Flemish artist, in the regularity of his expressive features, somewhat resembles. The painting from which our engraving is copied must have been executed at a time when Sneyders was no longer young ; whereas the portrait taken by his friend Yandyck represents the artist in the prime of manly vigour. There is, however, so great a similarity in the pose and the costume, that, were it not for the worn and haggard look of this oval likeness, we should think it had been copied from Yandyck's celebrated picture. In both likenesses the intellectual character of the face is beautifully preserved. "THE LICENSED DEALER IN GAME." " Still life" was at first the forte of Sneyders. He delighted in grouping, upon a spacious dresser, a varied collection of dead game, for the sole enjojnnent of gazing upon the beautiful colours which he produced so vividly and so naturally. He never reflected beforehand what he should repre- sent ; and, in this respect, he differed from nearly all the other painters of " still life," who study the grouping of their different subjects as attentively as an historical painter does the disposition of his living figures. Among the objects which would, under other circumstances, be only accessories, they choose one which becomes the principal feature of the piece. Upon this principal feature in the fore- ground they lavish all the resources of light and colour ; while the others, according to the degree of importance which is attached to them, appear only in a kind of half light, or are lost imperceptibly in shade. In the kitchen scenes, for instance, of Kalf or Yan Tol, there is a kind of method in the dis- position of things of different degrees of importance — of shining cauldrons, or of utensils which are only introduced as accessories. Sneyders, on the contrary, when he paints " still life," studies only the softness or the brilliancy of the colouring, and aims but at describing, with truth and vigour, the actual appearance of his subject. His fruit, his dishes, his lifeless flesh or fowl, he has not introduced for the purpose of making them instrumental in the mere effect of his piece, but he has a practical end in view ; or, in other words, he has aimed only at a faithful representation of the furred skin of a hare, hanging by its leg to a hook in the larder — of the bristling armour of a boar's back — or, as we see in the picture from which we have taken our engraving, of the sweeping and gorgeous plumage of the peacock. Little does he care whether or not the grouping of all the subjects which we see in our illustration will produce a harmonising whole — a well-digested ensemhle of colours, which the eye can take in easily and at a glance. His chief object is to vindicate his reputation as a painter of the style; and, indeed, there is no more sure path to fame. " Still life " may be compared to a set of samples which a painter makes at his debut in artistic life, with the view of consulting them hereafter for the iimumerable shades of colouring he may require, and through the assistance of which he will gain, little by little, a knowledge of the harmony of tone, breadth, and handling. In the same way a writer draws upon the dictionary of his memory for all those words of which he must first know the precise meaning before he can make them available in his language. The study of " still Hfe " is, as it were, the grammar of the painter. He first learns to speak correctly the language of art, and the a uses this preliminary knowledge as the basis of his future eloquence. In " The Licensed Dealer in Game," there is a richness, a profusion, a prodigality of labour, which we do not recollect to have seen equalled in any other painting of " still life." The superabundance of flesh and fowl collected on one dresser almost palls upon the fancy, although the oppressive effect is somewhat relieved by the introduction of the dealer and of his dogs, whose training undergoes a severe ordeal in the presence of so many fragrant and attractive dainties. FRANCOIS SNEYDEES. 215 E/ubens, who could mistake Sneyders's touches for his own, found in the painter of " still Hfe" a most useful and efficient assistant in the working up of his pictures. Vandyck was his great coadjutor in figure-painting, Wildens and Lucas Van XJden in his landscapes. He was, however, always ready and willing himself to repay the services of his three pupils ; and, in the case of Sneyders, he often adorned "with human figures the great " still life" pictures of the painter of animals. Unfortunately, however, for Sneyders, the figures which Kubens intended as accessories became the prominent features of the piece. In some of the paintings which were the joint production of Kubens and Sneyders, it is curious to observe how these two great masters, equally famous in their way, seem to vie with each other as to the efiect they will produce upon the spectator ; and the harmony of the picture is soiiiotimes sacrificed to this unintentional rivalry. There is a chef-d'oeuvre among the collection at La Haye, in which Kubens has introduced a curious looking figure, dressed in a garb which indicates at once the hunter and the monk. Over his cassock he carries a hunting horn, fastened to his waistband, and he is in the act of hanging a doe to a hook in the wall. He is evidently the prior of some order, who has had his likeness taken in this dress to show how greatly his skill as a sportsman contributed to the support of the fraternity to which he belonged. Partridges, snipes, moor fowl, hares, boar's head, melons, grapes, artichokes, asparagus, and all things, indeed, that the epicure could desire, are grouped together on this canvas. Every part of the picture is characterised by a peculiar touch of the brush. The downy softness of the partridge, the fur of the hare, the rough and ridgy surface of the melon, with its succession of green and golden tints, the inviting ripeness of the grapes, are represented with such a beautiful, delicate, and transparent shade, that they delight the eye of the connoisseur while they make his mouth water. It is not always a first or a second work, however excellent, that secures to its author fame or profit. The same may be said of artists and their chefs-d'oeuvre. There is a luck in these matters, or at any rate that happy inspiration which men irreverently call " luck." Sneyders had painted pictures of rare merit ; he had had the great honour of working with Kubens, as his " mate," or " colleague ; " but his first great hit was a painting representing " A Stag Hunt." This picture made Sneyders's fortune, or, at any rate, put him in the way of making it. It has been justly said there is no royal road to learning ; but there certainly is a royal road to success for painters, and Sneyders found it, when his " Stag Hunt " attracted the attention and secured the patronage of Philip III., King of Spain. Phihp commissioned Sneyders to paint a number of battle and hunting pieces. The Archduke Albert followed the example of the King of Spain, and when from governor of the Low Countries he became monarch of that fertile country (so rich in the fruits of the earth, and in that gift of Heaven — genius), he named Sneyders his painter in ordinary. "With Sneyders's battle scenes we are not well acquainted, but we are entlmsiastic admirers of his hunting pieces. There is about them a fire, a reality, an energy, perfectly irresistible. For glow of feeling and impetuous power, they approach Kubens. They are, in fact, battle pieces — deadly combats — of beings whose arms are all supplied by " Nature's crowning hand." And how much more savage and terrible are those engagements where brutal passion has no weapon but its own fangs, or claws, its own gripe, or deadly hug. Even among men what weapon is more fatal than a bruiser's clenched fist. And how much more horrible is a fatal boxing match than a " duel a la mart.'''' Of the bloody battles which Sneyders delighted to paint, brutes were the heroes ; but for glowing life and passionate power those brutes rival the men and women of Kubens. Their eye-balls glare, sparkle, and glower ; their nostrils expand ; they foam at the mouth j their jaws, yawning wide, stream with blood : and when Sneyders represents the rush of a pack of maddened hounds on a boar at bay, as in the picture now before us, tearing his grisly sides, biting his tough ears, many of them during the process gored, ripped open, and expiring on the ground, the spectator gazing on this vivid picture fancies he hears their bark, their shrill sharp cries of pain or joy, the savage grunt of the boar, and even the blast of the horn. ''BOAR HUNT." There is a wonderful depth of expression in the powerful, ferocious, grisly hero of this famous piece. The odds against the porcine king of the forests of Germ^iny are frightful ; and the painter has wisely chosen that moment of intense and exciting interest in any conflict, any battle of men or beasts, any drama of life or death, when the denouement is, though near at hand, as yet uncertain. JOHN CASSELL*S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. A great wnter ha.s said that it is not in human nature to look on at any conflict for five minutes \vithout taking one side or the other. The reahty of tliis boar hunt is tested and proved by the fact, that all who look at it are warmly on the side of the boar. The expression of his life-like, fiery eye is almost harrowing in its intense agony of endurance. The dogs seem Hke a rabble let loose upon a hero. The grouping of these dogs, their muscular development, their canine, crafty ferocity of expres- sion,* their admirable contrast to the long-tusked warrior they are attacking at odds, so revolting to English justice — the very ground on which they lie, and the tree that marks the spot of many a death- gasp, all unite to inake this picture Sneyders's masterpiece. The brave boar may fall, but if he does, like Peggy Lobkins's relative?, he will die game, in every sense of the word. Sneyders has this advantrge over the Dutch j>ainters of animal life, that his successes were achieved in spite of the difijcidties that always attend the representation of scenes of tempestuous and conflicting JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. ^17 passions. Wouvermans delighted in admirable pictures of preparations for Hunting. A lordly castle, graceful ladies mounting their steeds and bowing to the compliments of their knights and squires ; how easy such a scene compared to the fiery conflict depicted in " The Boar Hunt." FIGHT BETWEEN BEARS AND DOGS." No other painter of animals — not even our own immortal Landseer — has succeeded in investing with so much grandeur, we might almost say sublimity, the contest between dogs and bears, or boars. In the celebrated ma,:terpiece, of whioh we have here given an illustration, the internecine struggle between the dogs and bears is represented with lifelike effect. The shaggy monster wiio, erect on his hind legs, folds in his deadly embrace the crushed hound, is baited on all sides by the yelping peck. 23 218 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. One tears at his ear, another attacks his flank, a third gnaws the muscles of his powerful limb ; while others, unable as yet to join in the bloody strife, are aiding with their tongue the teeth of their con- freres. The huge monster of the wood still holds his own, notwithstanding the number of his daunt- less assailants, many of whom, gasping and mangled around him, bear evidence to the prowess of their mighty foe. If, at length, overcome by numbers, he falls a victim to the vengeance of the rabble, his defeat will not have been inglorious ; and, had his maimed and bleeding foes the faculty of language, they might exclaim with Pyrrhus, " one more such victory, and we are undone ! " In another part of the well-fought field, another bear is baited by another pack ; and here the contest is equally close and uncertain. The claws, as well as the teeth, of infuriated Bruin have made deadly ravages among the hounds, whose cries of agony are drowned by the growling thunder of their terrific opponent. The pertinacity of the dogs, notwithstanding the slaughter in their ranks, is admirably described by the inspired painter ; and the ferocious expression of bafiled rage in their faces, as they tug and strain at the almost impervious hide of the bear, shows how long and studiously the artist must have Avatched the progress of similar engagements. There is a terrible reality about the whole piece j and we scarcely know which most to admire, the demoniacal fierceness of the savage bear's fiery eye, as he hugs his victim, or the anguish of the expiring hound. There is no sameness in the faces of the dogs ; their expressions are as varied as their attitudes ; and we cannot too highly appreciate the wonderful fertility of conception which could suggest so interesting a variety in so many dogs of the same race. To have been present at the scenes which Sneyders has represented so faithfully — lions darting on their prey, boars infuriated by the hounds, stags at bay, or baited bears — implies a degree of personal risk which few painters would care to encounter. And yet it is difficult to understa.nd how, without having actually assisted at these savage scenes, the painter could have described them with so much attention to the minutiae of the tableau, "DOGS IN A LARDER." When Sir Joshua Keynolds examined the paintings collected in the Museums of the Netherlands, he took, we are told, but little notice of Sneyders's chefs-d'oeuvre. " The works of this master," said he, "are, from their subject matter, their size, and, we might add, their mimber, better suited for the walls of an anteroom than the picture-gallery of a palace." The President of the Poyal Academy, further- more, says : " We have here pictures of game, of bear, boar, and stag hunts by Sneyders, de Yos, Tyt, and Weenix. The best in this style are by Weenix." Sneyders's hunting scenes, and even his still life pieces, cover, indeed, for the most part so large a surface of canvas, that they are better fiited for the panelings formerly used in large dining halls than for picture-frames. We have by degrees so contracted the size of our dwellings that we can no longer find space for the magnificent masterpieces of Sneyders, or for such productions as " The Battles of Alexander the Great," by Charles le Brun. Even Gobelin tapestry is completely out of place, save in the palaces of our wealthy aristocracy. The painting of "Dogs in a Larder" does not, however, labour under this disadvantage, if it is not almost a sacrilege to use such a term as " disadvantage " in reference to the size of the inimitable works of the great Flemish painter of animals. Many of these ;)riceless treasures of art are, nevertheless, for want of a place sufficiently large to display them in, consigned in neglected rolls to the recesses of garrets and out-houses, where they are worm-eaten and a,re rotting to pieces. The moderate size of " Dogs in a Larder " has preserved it from this ignominious fate. There is a wonderful reality about the picture : the dogs, who have penetrated into this well- supplied larder, can scarcely realise to themselves their good fortune ; but two of them, like the curs that they really are, instead of seizing each on liis part of the abundance which would furnish enough and to spare for a whole pack, are quarrelling over a half-picked bone. The third, more sensible, if not more honest, profiting by the carelessness which has left so inviting a banquet within his reach, " takes the goods the gods provide him." With glaring eyes and crouching form, poor puss, who dares not for her life venture within the range of such keen-scented opponents, is watching from a distance the rapid plunder of the larder in which her own minor depredations have often passed undetected. The whole scene is highly characteristic of the style of this master, and would repay the attentive study af the student in the art of animal painting. PAUL REMBRANDT. With reference to that superiority which Sir Joshua affected to find in the paintings of Weenix, we can only say that we have been unable to discover it. An amateur who judges the merit of a painter by the finene'ss of touch or the finish of the parts, might see much to admire in the elaborate productions of Weenix ; but that an artist so celebrated as the President of the Koyal Academy should have so lightly esteemed the bold and effective touches of Sneyders, is quite incomprehensible. A compari- son between the pieces of Weenix and Frangois Sneyders is, moreover, ridiculous. Both these a,rtists have painted admirably to the purpose, each having regard to the space he intended to occupy. But, with- out attempting to justify the criticism of Sir Joshua, we cannot help regretting that Sneyders had so little confidence in his own powers, even as a painter in that style in which he has immortalised himself It has been objected against him, and unfortunately with truth, that he never trusted himself to paint horses, but always had recourse to the assistance of Bubens, who was, in his opinion, the only artist capable of representing the noble grace and beauty of that animal whose "neck is clothed with thunder." But a still greater shortcoming than this want of confidence in himself was the ignorance which Sneyders has shown of chiaro-oscuro. This greatly mars the effect of many of his best pictures. He not only neglected all attempt at harmony in the grouping of his subjects, but he paid no attention to light and shade, or, in other words, he never took especial care to introduce into his picture a light to which all other lights should be, as it were, subordinate. There is a certain " Boar Hunt " by Sneyders in which the fierce object of the pursuit forms a dark mass in the centre of the picture, by no means sufiiciently distinct to give any definite idea of what it represents, while near the frame are strong lights scattered here and there contrary to all the laws of light and shade, both natural and acquired. With these trifling drawbacks Sneyders was a painter of the first rank. In everjrthing he undertook he succeeded in the most marvellous manner ; and, luckily for his reputation, he never undertook an5rthing beyond the sphere of his own peculiar .-:tyle, or the resources of his genius. He knew how to impart to inanimate objects, not exactly t'r.at illusion which delights the inexperienced or vulgar mind, but that secret charm which arises from the nature of the objects invested by the painter with a spiritual reality, and which, therefore, always awaken in the mind of the spectator a corresponding sensation. In his paintings of those animals which are more particularly the objects of the hunter's pursuit he is without a rival. To bears, boars, and stags he has given the action, the fire, the breath of life. , PAUL REMBEANDT. artist great AUL BEMBBANDT, whose honoured name conjures up such bright and concentrated lights, and such mysterious depths of dark, transparent shadows — Paul Bembrandt was the son of a miller, named Herman Gerretsz, and surnamed Van Byn, because his mill was situated on the banks of an arm of the Bhine. He was bom, not, as Houbraken states, near Leyden, but in that city, on the ramparts, near the Witteport, or White Gate. His mother, Cornelia Yon Zuitbroeck, gave birth to him on the 15th of June, 1606, and at the font he received that name which his genius rendered so illustrious, the name of Bembrandt. Bembrandt, who was destined to pursue literature as a profession, was sent at a very early age to the University of Leyden ; but the spirit, or rather the genius of painting, stirred within him. The Latin authors charmed him much less than the engravings that illustrated them, and he soon abandoned Suetonius for the chiaro-oscuro. According to his contemporary, Sandrart, Paul Bembrandt's first master was Yan Swanenburg. But Houbraken says his first lessons were imparted by Pierre Lastman, an of high repute at Amsterdam, and that at the end of six months he left Lastman to study hi-J art under the direction of Jacques Pinas. 220 JOHN CASSBLt*g AllT TREASURES EXHIBITION. SPHRAIM BONUS (WHITK EIKQ.) FROM AN ENGRAVING BY REMBRANDT. (CotUril/uled to tin A rt Treasures Exhibition by R. S. TTolford, B$q.) Paul rembrandt. lEK DESCEHT FROM THE CROSS. FROM A PAINTING BY REMBRANDT. (0/ which an Engrming is in the Art Treasures Exhibition.) 222 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. Tliis seems the more probable, because we can trace something of the manner of Pinas and Lastman, even in the chefs-cVoeuvre of their illustrious pupil. However original genius maybe, its develojD- ment will always be found to have some affinity (if we can but trace it, obscure and complicated as it often is) with early impressions. Even in Correggio there is a germ of Eembrandt ; and we can discover, an we follow it out, the influ- ence of Elzlieimer and Lastman. No wonder that the .Dutcli painters try to appropriate a pupil who, on leaving their studios, was fit not only to be their master, but was the great master of his art. And thus Yan Leuwen, in his history of Ley den, assigns to a fourth artist the honour of teaching Rembrandt — namely, to George Schooten. Rembrandt has left to posterity a number of portraits of himself, from ruddy youth to pallid age. There was nothing of the lordly beauty of Rubens in the head and face of this great Dutch genius, but there was great brilliancy of colouring ; all the fire of his wild fervid imagination in his deep-set eyes, and a delicacy of beauty and sentiment in his well-curved, finely-shaped mouth. His hair, of a bright light auburn, of reddish hue, imparted that brilliancy and importance to his head wdiich the ancients so well appreciated, when they gave to their gods and goddesses the auricoma, or flavicoma, which lends to beauty a sort of halo as dazzling as it is rare. This abundance of bright hair gave a charm and dignity to a face in which the high cheek bones and large flat nose were the most remarkable traits. We shall return to the "outward man" of Paul Rembrandt, when we give our readers one of his many portraits ; but first let us here consider one of the greatest masterpieces of his genius, and, indeed, of high art in general — Rembrandt's " Descent from the Cross." " DESCENT FROM THE CROSS." The tragedy of Mount Calvary has ever been a favourite subject with great painters. From Daniel De Yolterre to Rubens, how many have chosen the moment when the body of the Redeemer is taken down from the cross ! How differently does Rembrandt treat this sublime subject from all who preceded or succeeded him ! Rembrandt was a great poet — a Milton ; whose pencil, not his pen, expressed what his wild, ardent fancy conceived. Rembrandt's " Descent from the Cross " is not merely fine, it is sublime ; and yet it is difficult, at first, to explain in what consists that sublimity which every one recognises at a glance. The unities are violated ; old traditions (so potent with the human mind) are set at naught ; the style is open to severe criticism ; the costume is out of all character. In all these important points the picture is not to be approved. Instead of that noble and touching beauty of expression, of feature and of form, with which we love to invest the incarnate Deity, and with which most painters endeavour to adorn that sinless One who was at once " a Son of God " and a " Man of Sorrows," Rembrandt has not only given no beauty or dignity to the face or form of the crucified Redeemer, but, on the contrary, has made him singularly devoid of both ! The men who have unnailed those blessed feet and hands, those who hold the Avinding-sheet, the spectators of the scene, and even " the three Marys," belong, judging from their mean and squalid attire, to the lowest and most miserable class. A sort of burgomaster, Avitli a turbaned head and furred pelisse, looks on in stolid indifference. He leans on a stick, and certainly his boots and trowsers are singularly out of keeping with the time and place. But for them he might have passed for some delegate of " the law," sent to assist at the removal of the corpse. So far we have a new and singular conception — some masterly grouping, and considerable intensity and fervour of expression ; but the inspiration of the picture consists in that wondrous stream, or torrent, or flood of light from on high, which — like rays from the eye of the Almighty — falls on the body of the victim ! All around is indistinct — dark, dreary, and desolate are both the landscape and the foreground. A shower of rays pierces the deep darkness of the scene j and while Jerusalem is over- shadowed by a dense gloom, a bright glory settles on and illumines the pale image of death ! How original, how sublime an inspiration was this ! Touched by this celestial light, or shrouded by this mysterious gloom, the ragged attendants have nothing mean or sordid in their misery. Their earnest gestures, their delicate and passionate devotion, their tender care of their dear Lord's remains, their deep, deep grief — ^tliese alone dwell on the memory of the heart. Faces and forms ennobled by PAUL REMBRANDT. 223 ffiitli, softened by sorrow, and touched by heavenly love, have a beauty and a power which no rags or v/retchedness can impair. And how palpable is the sorrow, how evident the love, how entire the devotion of these true sheep of the great, the heavenly Shepherd ! What a contrast between the im- passive stolidity of the turbaned spectator and the love of these poor followers of a crucified Lord ! How well has the great Rembrandt proved his theory — so earnestly maintained in all his works — that nobility, true nobility, consists less in outward forms than in the sentiment that animates them. The first Christians weej^ing over their crucified Saviour were independent of the antique or pagan beauty requisite for a merely classic subject. "The Descent from the Cross" required the beauty of soul, not body ; the spirit, not the form. Rembrandt bathed it in light from on high. Who would not dwell with awe upon a scene upon which heaven itself seems to gaze in that flood of light li This picture is eminently suggestive, after examining it with attention ; and no one can withdi'aw his attention from a subject so arresting, treated in a manner so inspiring, the mind travels onward from the foot of the cross, and ere long is peopled v/itli phantoms j and, after following the Saviour to the cave of Joseph of Arimathsea, is, betimes, at the sepulchre with the holy women, and present at the resurrection and ascension of our Lord. Rembrandt, who was not merely eminent as a painter, but as an engraver also, has entered into every minute detail of the scenes that succeeded the crucifixion, in a series of engravings, each a poem in sublimity of conception and delicacy of execution. And when we remember that this sublime genius, whom nothing escapes (realising, in his knowledge of everything vast and minute, the heau- ideal of a poet described in " Rasselas"), was the son of a common miller on the banks of the Rhine, and looked on the flat country and its phlegmatic inhabitants first through the window of that mill which his genius has immortalised, we are compelled to acknowledge that there is a genius which seems to come direct from on high ; that it belongs to no time, nor place, nor class of men. Education may improve, but cannot create it. It makes a man a king among men j and " a divinity does hedge " such kings — those monarchs of the mind. They have " a divine right," and all nations recognise it. Of such a painter as Rembrandt, it may be said, as truly as of any poet, " nascitur, non fitr Fortunately for Rembrandt, though born and bred in a mill, his native land was one in which art was honoured and remunerated, and painters held in the highest estimation. The Dutch were then, as they are still, a quiet, reflective, phlegmatic race — men of thought, rather than of action ; deep, rather than brilliant ; fond of humour, though not humorous, as " lazy duliiess ever loves its joke;" and ardent admirers of the wildest flights of imagination, although apparently a nation- of rnatter- of-factors ! Rembrandt has been accused of weakness in design ; and, Ave must own, that his drawing bears no touch of the elegance — has none of the refinement of the classic school. Having never studied the faultless proportions of ancient statuary, he was little acquainted with graceful forms. His Bathshebas are mere Dutch vrows, who must have fascinated the King of Israel by their fleshy forms and florid complexions, rather than by their graceful symmetry. His chaste Susannahs are stout souhrettes, requiring all the illusion of half lights and fantastic shade to conjure up any idea of the beautiful. But let us be just in our criticism. Rembrandt's figures possess, in an eminent degree, the essential qualities of distinctness and of correct perspective. In this respect, we cannot mention a painter who C'juals him. The expression, resulting from the attitude of the figures, is remarkably natural and aflecting in all his works. Where can we find amazement better depicted than in " The Resurrection of Lazarus ? " What a variety of emotions ! What difierent efi'ects, according to the difierent characters ! Joy, tenderness, incredulity, and terror, modify, in successive gradations, the astonishment of the spectators, who advance, retire, or remain petrified, when, at the bidding of Christ, Lazarus bursts the cerements of the tomb. Poussin could hardly produce finer efiect. In " The Prodigal Son," what artist ever gave greater reality to paternal forgiveness, and to filial remorse ? In this picture there may be inaccuracy, doubt, and disorder ; nevertheless, we see portrayed in it the dec^jest feelings of the human heart. The Yirgin bending over her first-born, and pressing him to her bosom with so sublime, and yet so maternal a tenderness, reminds us, in this great masterpiece of Renibraiidt, of the divine inspiration of Raphael in similar subjects.. With regard to our artist's architecture, it is as original and poetical as his figure painting. His edifices seem destined for the abode of gnomes and fairies. It is evident that his grotesque forms could not, with i)ropriety, have inhabited classical 224 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. structures. His steel-clad warriors, his rabbis, with their long beards, require mysterious dwellings, with trap-doors and winding staircases. As we recognise with pleasure the classic profile in the streets of Rome or Venice, and study the analogy that a regular face has to the exact proportions of Roman architecture, so are we delighted to behold Rembrandt's conceptions in their ideal abodes. Anti- quarians, quacks, magicians, gipsies — all this motley but picturesque population ' are to be met with in those temples, where the characteristic " darkness visible'' of our ai-tist produces the illusion of immense space. What an imagination ! What a mind ! In gazing on some of his pictures, the scenes of the " Arabian Nights " seem realised on canvas. JOHN CASSELL'S AHT TREASORES EXHIBITION. 225 Some connoi'^seurs have staf/od .that Kerabranflt visited Venice, but we find no authonlj for hhis conjecture. Besides, a knowledge of the gaHeries of the City of the Adriatic could never have furnished our painter with the grotesque variety, the poetic richness of his interiors ; he was initiated in his youth into the great secret of striking and original effects — the proper management of light and shade, and of that partial darkness which he uses to give effect to his light. Despairing of imitatiiig the sun, he closes his door upon it, covers up his windows, and only allows one ray of the great luminary to enter through a crevice. But when he has imprisoned this ray he makes good use of it. This ray illumines the bald head of the hermit at his devotions, or darts through the shade on the fbrm of a lovely woman reposing on a couch, and in this woman we recognise " Potiphar's Wife." 29 226 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. Through Kenibraudt's pencil the miracles of Our Saviour are translated upon canvas, by the effects of light. His imagination represents the scene as pictured in a dark cavern suddenly illumined. With him light is life, and darkness death. Sometimes he conjui'es up a silence almost perceptible, if we may be allowed the contradiction in terms ; then a gradual harmony of colouring produces on the eye the effect that silence lias on the ear. In illustration of this remark, we take the piece of the "Two Philosophers." A ray struggling through the window pane enters the quiet dwelling of the recluse. Books are open before him, but he reads them not — he is meditating. The light traverses the wall, and dimly discloses the steps of a winding staircase. After studying the picture for a few minutes, we discover on the staircase the forms of two women. Of these figures the •3olour is so similar to that of the masses of shade, that (if we might use the metaphor) we should say :hey make no noise — ^they utter not a sound to break the silence of the picture. Sometimes by bursts of daylight the painter gives vent to his inspiration. Where his thought> centre, he collects the rays, and fascinates the eyes of the spectator. Enter that humble abode. It is a carpenter's house. There we may contemplate a young woman holding her son in her arms. The grandfather is gazing on the boy. Near the window, through which a dark, gray sky is visible, the carpenter planes a board. In the meantime a ray pierces the clouds ; it glides through an imper- ceptible opening ; it illumines, it gilds the form of the child. The face of the young mother beams with joy : the grandfather's countenance is radiant Wonder of wonders ! We are in the house of Mary ! That mother is the Virgin — her child is the Christ ! In subjects taken from the Old Testament, Hembrandt is not less successful. Witness the " Vision of Ezekiel." It passes through many fantastic gradations. Above shines glory, in which the Almighty appears surrounded by angels ; belo^v are the four beasts spoken of by the prophet. The picture is small, but it comprises two worlds — hell below and a heaven above — the brightness of Paradise and the darkness of Pandemonium. Who would exchange the beauties of the antique for such scenes as these 1 The merits of other painters would be faults in Hembrandt. '^EPHRAIM BONUS," SECOND STATE (WHITE RING). We have much pleasure in presenting our subscribers with this beautiful engraving from a very rare print by Rembrandt, of which the best impression was displayed in the Art Treasures Palace, at Manchester, contributed by P. S. Holford, Esq. Our copy is engraved from the original by Linton, and is a faithful facsimile of one of the great master's best productions in copper. Pembrandt has bequeathed to us many specimens of his skill in etching. " Ephraim Bonus," first state (black ring), and " Ephraim Bonus," second state (white ring), are among the number. Of the subject of the portrait we only know that he was a Dutch physician of eminence in the seventeenth century. He owes his immortality, however, not to his physiological fame, but to the genius of the painter among whose works the two likenesses are found. " Ephraim Bonus " (black ring), after Pembrandt's death, was sold for 3,700 francs, or.* i£148 ; whereas the white ring was prized by the same valuer at only 450 francs, or <£18. So much, Iiowever, has time added to the worth of these two engravings, that, at the present date, it would be impossible to estimate sufficiently high the value of these engravings. JESUS CLEARINa THE TEMPLE." The Clearing the Temple has been as populai a subject with the masters of the " grand style " as any event in the ministry of Christ ; but no painter of ancient or modem times has given so life- like a representation of the miraculous scene as Rembrandt. This great picture is most elaborate in its composition. The numbers of figures introduced — the supernatural terror with which the presence of the " Son of Man" has inspired the desecrators of the holy edifice — the hght that illumines the strange crowd, partly emanating in rays of glory from the head of Christ, and partly from those imde- fined sources which our painter was so fond of calling into requisition in all his pictures — give a very peculiar character to the whole tableau. Altogether, the scene is an admirable illustration of that passage in the Gospel of St. Matthew, " And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the money-changers, and the seats of them that sold doves, and said unto them, It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer, but ye have made it a den of thieves." PAUL REMBRANDT. 227 When Rembraadt had once established his reputation by that originality of style which every con- noisseur acknowledged his works displayed, he opened a school of painting, which he divided into several compartments, alloting to each pupil a separate studio. His object in this arrangement was to obviate the possibility of his pupils imitating one another's style, which they would, in all proba- bility, have done, had they worked together in one common atelier ; whereas by making each study by himself the li ving model, he hoped to preserve in all some originality and distinctness. The system worked most successfully ; and many famous painters, who were fellow-pupils under Kembrandt, achieved fame and fortune in styles quite distinct, but yet preserving, in their freslmess and peculiarity, the stamp of the genius of their master. Among the most celebrated of these pupils were Ferdinand Bol, Fictoor, Gerard Douw, Yan Hoogstraten, and Flinsk. E-embrandt himself, the president of this monastic school of artists, was a man of peculiar manners — • a visionary, self-concentrated, reserved, original, contradictory, and inscrutable. He had collected, in. a large reservoir of curiosities, turbans, scarves of various textures and colours, pieces of ancient armour, rusty swords, halbards, and other mediaeval weapons. He was proud of displaying beforc his visitors these various articles of vertu, and of boasting, " These are my antique treasures." He wao an indefatigable collector of engravings from Raphael's paintings, and was, moreover, possessed of a vast number of beautiful Italian impressions ; but, unlike many of his confreres, who feigned to under- • rate the sources from wliich they borrowed everything of value they possessed, Rembrandt approved of all he saw, without imitating anything. Antiquarian, as well as painter, he attended every sale of articles of vertu, and paid liberally for objects of curiosity, for di*awings, paintings, ancient weapons, coins, and costumes. In this way he spent, in an incredibly short time, not only the large sums that he received for his own productions, but even the rich dowry brought him by Saskia Uylenburg, the great heiress, native of Leuwaarden, the capital of Friesland, whom he had espoused in 1634. By her he had a son, of the name of Titus, whom he survived. Rembrandt has been often taxed with avarice. Many anecdotes, more or less plausible, have been invented, with the view of proving that this great painter was a miser. But the autograph letters of the artist himself, and his many acts of generosity are a sufficient refutation of the charge which Houbraken originated on insufficient grounds, and which envious rivals have ridiculously exag- gerated. After perusing these letters, and with the evidence before us of so many acts of liberality, it is impossible to believe that Rembrandt had any of the characteristics of a Harpagon or a Daniel Dance. That he was of a most grateful disposition is evident from the number of likenesses he executed, both on canvas and in copper, of his friends and benefactors, for it is the fashion with artists to show the sense they entertain of favours received by multiplying the likenesses of those who have conferred them. When he first began life as a painter, he had a powerful patron in a certain Dr. Tulp, professor of anatomy at Amsterdam, and brother-in-law to the famous Bourgomaster Six. This Dr. Tulp he has immortalised by a masterpiece, which represents the professor in the midst of his pupils, and which is well known to picture-fanciers under the title of the " Lecturer in Ana:somy." This chef-d'oeuvre is in the Museum of La Haye ; but great as are its merits, it is not seen to advantage by those who have first feasted their eyes on that far more striking production of Rembrandt's genius in the Museum of Amsterdam, entitled "THE NIGHT-WATCH." The first glimpse of this great picture is an epoch in the life of a connoisseur in -painting. Not only are the eyes of the spectator dazzled by the mysterious light of so extraordinary a piece, not only are they bewildered with astonishment at the life-like reality of the numerous figures so strangely grouped together, but his mind is transported into a new region, which is neither the material world nor the realm of fancy, but a kind of debatable groimd, in wliich the real and the imaginary seem to struggle for the mastery. TJie doubtful nature of the subject matter of this piece, and the cloud of uncertainty which still veils the meaning of the painter, do but add the charm of mystery to the unrivalled beauty of the cliefd'ceuvre. The heroes whom Rembrandt places in the foreground are only burly burgomasters, mustached musketeers, soldiers, and drummer boys ; but their marcli is so irregular, and their features so puzzling, that it is impossible to say whether they are setting out for the THE RESURRECTION OP LAZARUS, PROM A PAINTING BY REMBRANDT. Of which there is an Engraving in, the Art Treasures Exhibition, conlrthnted by the 7)ide cf Buccleuch. wars, or are only going their nightly round ; whether they are starting for a shooting match, or are returning from the sport ; whether they are going to contend with one another for the prize, or whether they ha^'e already rewarded the successful candidate. Tlie whole picture seems nothing more 1»AUL REMBRANDT. '229 rORTKAIT OF AN OLD MAN. PROM A PAINTING BY REMBRANDT. nor less than a vision, and it would puzzle the most ingenious of Rembrandt's admirers to tell whence comes the light which falls upon the figures. It is neither sunlight, moonlight, nor torchlight, — it is simply the light of Eembrandt's genius. The figures which at first sight seem copied from nature, on 230 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITIuI^. a closer inspection resolve themselves into a kind of phantasmagoria. "We should almost fancy that Rembrandt had, in his dreams, seen a band of warriors passing before his eyes, whose figures were sometimes strongly, sometimes only vaguely impressed upon his mind. Just "like the baseless fabric of a dream," some are thrust into the background of the canvas, some are already beyond its limits. In the foreground of the picture are two armed warriors in large felt hats, of whom the one is marching in the shade, and the other advances in the light. In the shadowy rout which follows, and which presses on their heels, the chiaro-oscuro is so managed that we can distinguish the attitude, and even the colour, of a dog barking at the drummer boy. Many men, variously attired, whose faces come into relief out of dark shadows, are descending the staircase of a palace. One of these figures is in the act of charging his musket, and by his aggressive attitude seems to be threatening some unseen foe in the distance. On the right of the Burgomaster in black is a fair young girl with golden hair, whose scared looks and hurried step denote some sudden alarm. The mysterious ray which reveals her form shines on a dress which in this deceptive light seems to be of glossy satin, resplendent with precious stones. The effect is, however, only a delusion of the chiaro- oscuro of our painter, for the girl has nothing shining about her but her eyes and her hair, and the glossy appearance of her dress is but the effect of the magic light which encircles her. Between the sable Bourgomaster and " this child of the earth with the golden hair," is a figure which we can only discover after a lengthened study of the piece to be a soldier half concealed, whose helmet is sur- mounted by a chaplet of oak. Why this figure is introduced at all is a question we cannot solve, but the difficulty is increased by the appearance of flight given to his hurried retreat. The picture has all the uncertainty of a dream, and all the reality of a passing scene. It is the phantasmagoria of a poetical imagination, united with the material substance of figures, palpable, life- like, and well defined. The world, indeed, into which Bembrandt introduces us in such pieces as these, is not the every- day matter-of-fact world we see around us. He quits the beaten track of ordinary life to create for himself an ideal region, which he illumines with the magic rays of his own genius. And yet so unjust and false is fame, that even this painter, whose sole object was to elevate the worldly character of his subjects by an ideal and unwonted charm, has been taxed with a penchant for low and sensual subjects, and with a dislike for everj^hing that is chaste, noble, and grand. To what was necessarily ugly or displeasing he lends the prestige of his chiaro-oscuro, and the poetry of mystery ; he covers it, moreover, with the sombre veil of his demi-tints, and invests it with a serious character. Bembrandt was, indeed, a poet of the highest order, who had formed for himself a beau ideal as lovely and capti- vating as it was striking and original. After studying nature in all her phases, he manages to invest her with the character of his own thoughts, and to paint her after his own whims and fancies. The beauty which lures him is not the conventional beauty of which we dare not disturb the outline ; he finds beauty in faces over which the storm of human passion has already swept, leaving behind it traces dark and ineradicable. The cold forms of conventional routine he disperses and ignores ; he follows no rules or precedents, and shows in all his compositions how much the garish vulgarity of broad daylight disgusts and delays him. His was not simply the art of painting — an art in which many of his contemporaries were also successful — but the art of hallowing with a light peculiarly his own, the inspirations of his genius. In the whole Bembrandt repertoire there is nothing trifling or commonplace. Neither on canvas nor on copper has he ever traced anything gross or vulgar. He has drawn many things that are ugly ; nothing that is prosaic, for ever3rthing that he has bequeathed to us bears the impress of the strange and unearthly mind of the sublime artist. Like the violin of Cremona, his palette seemed to be the abode of some fanciful spirit. It is certain that Bembrandfc's idee fixe was that everything was to be effected by a judicious and sudden contrast of strong light and deep shadow. This gives a certain mannerism to his genius, but it is a mannerism with which all nature sym- pathises, — death, despair, grief, pain, all love the darkness ; while faith, life, hope, joy, love (all happy and pleasing passions), revel in the sunshine, and clothe themselves, as it were, in the prismatic hues of that bright child of the sun, the rainbow. Let us turn, for instance, to that powerful and arresting picture^ PAUL REMBRANDT. 231 "THE RESURRECTION OF LAZARUS." It was by a happy inspiration of his singular genius that Eembrandt resolved to make an almost mao upon canvas the conflict of the elements — the struggle for the mastery between the sun and the storm. The component parts of these pieces are simple in the extreme. Out of a barge lying motionless on ihe still waters of a canal, of a bull fastened by a rope to the trunk of an old tree, of a lonely pathway in a wood, he can conjure up a scene which is highly suggestive, and which supplies plenty of food for meditation. Sometimes, when the landscape is veiled in shadow, and a dreamy stillness reigns around, the painter — drawing his inspiration from the scene — composes in his tableau a suggestive drama. He JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. 241 ADRIAN VAN OSTADE. FROM A PAINTING BY HIMSELF. treats the country before him as though it were a vast chamber, of which the vault of heaven is the ceiling, and into which the sunshine only penetrates by broken rays, which he intercepts with the introduction of rows of dark trees. The landscape of " The Three Trees," upon which we have already made our comments, is a beautiful type of this kind of landscape. It is considered by connoisseurs to be one of Kembrandt's greatest cliefs-d' o&uvre^ and is certainly peculiarly characteristic of the style of the painter. There is another landscape, entitled "Le Pont de Six," of which the impressions are now very rare, and which we only mention on account of the story connected with it. One day when Kembrandt was on a visit to his patron the Burgomaster, the footman announced that dinner was ready ; but, aa the friends were sitting down to table, they saw there was no mustard. The Burgomaster hurried ofl' the servant to the village, but Kembrandt, who was himself of an impatient disposition, being aware of the snail-like pro- l)ensities of this messenger, made a wager with his friend, that he would engrave a ])]ate before the arrival of the mustard. Six accepted the wager ; and as the artist never travelled without his tools, or his plates ready prepared, he set to work, and before the return of the servant had engraved a view of the country as seen from the windows of the room in which they were sitting. 31 212 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. Tlic productions of Kembrandt have been counterfeited in every possible way. Of his most trifling sketches there have been copies and fac similes innumerable, of more or less merit. Artists of every subsequent age and of every country have vied with each other in their imitations of this great master. Among the most successful copiers we may mention Basan, Folkema, our ov\^n Richard Wilson, James Hazard, and M. Denon. Painters who are their own engravers attend but little to the minntise of the art. With them the end is everything, the means are unimportant. The proper disposition of light and shade is all that they study. They use the steel point on their copper-plate as they would their pencil on card-board, or their brush upon the canvas, and, despising all the refinement of the engravers' skill, they think only of translating upon copper the conceptions of their minds. And they are right : for of wliat avail are all the dogmas and precej)ts of the schools without the inspiration of genius? In his celebrated portrait of Lutma, how successfully has Rembrandt ignored all the jargon of the ^professional engraver. His random strokes produce the most happy effects ; and his instinct, always more correct than the elaborate calculation of others, compensates for a deficiency in the know- ledge of the art. People who have a taste for the marvallous have always, discovered something mysterious, not to say supernatural, in the effects produced by Rembrandt. The Chevalier de Claussin is said to have devoted thirty-six years of his life to the study of Rembrandt's secret ; but notwith- standing all his zeal and labour, he was wrong in attributing to the artist so many different contriv- ances for producing the desired effect. The truth is, that Rembrandt's method of engraving was extremely simple, and instead of emplopng seven different means, he knew only of three. But it is in vain for men who have not the talisman of genius to attempt to fathom the secrets of his success ! Suffice it to say, that in his own peculiar style of engraving he has never had a rival. Of all the great masters who have been their own engravers not one has achieved the world-wide popularity of Rem- brandt ; and the volumes npon volumes that have been written on his works attest the truth of our assertion. His cliefs-cVc&uvre are, with a very few exceptions, exhibited in public galleries or cele- brated private collections. But when, through any casualty, a painting by this great master comes into the market, the competition for it is so great that it is impossible to give any correct estimate of its value. It was long believed that Rembrandt died either in 1G68 or in 1674 j but it has lately been proved by the burial registers of the Church of Westerkerk, at Amsterdam, that he was interred on the 9th of October, 1669. He died poor, in spite of the avarice of which he has been accused. After he lost his wife Saskia (an event which occurred in 1642), he was obliged to make good certain sums to his son Titus, who was a minor. His whole capital at this time v\^as invested in works of art and objects of virtu^ and the war at that time going on between England and Holland had greatly depreciated the value of such property. His son's guardian compelled the announcement of sale by auction of Rembrandt's dwelling-house in the Beerstraat (the Jcav's quarter) of Amsterdam, but there was not a single bid for it. His collection of pictures, engravings, drawings, bronzes, arms, and costumes, were sold by the Court of Insolvency, and scarcely realised what Rembrandt owed his creditors, the chief of whom was the Burgomaster Corneille Witzen. After this cruel, harrowing sale of all he had so long delighted to collect; Rembrand*: retired to Le Rosengraat {(}uai cles Roses), Amsterdam, married his second wife, a pretty young peasant girl, and by her he had two children (his sole heirs), for his son Titus preceded him to the grave. How false does all this prove the assertion that Rembrandt was a miser. A miser ! Had this great genius been even a careful man, would he have squandered a fortune on works of art ? would he have been led on to pay the enormous sums he did at sales, at auctions ? would he have been sold up as he Avas ? would he have died insolvent ? HIS MERITS. Well did Rembrandt merit the statue erected to his honour at Amsterdam, and the shrine he carved for himself in the memory, not merely ^of his OAvn nation, but of the whole civilised Avoild. He was at once a great poet, a sublime painter, and an inimitable engraver. No one has approached him in the essential points of the mastery of light and shade, otherwise called cldaro-oscuro, in delicacy of touch, ai]d eloquence of expression. ADRIAN VAN OSTADE. 243 If there is nothing noble in the drawing of his figures, and if his proportions are not always just, his sentiment is never false. He always enters fully into the feeling of his subject. His faults are inseparable from his beauties — they form one great whole. No one could improve on Rembrandt, while all can condemn. As we have said, his cidaro-oscuro is unrivalled. No lights, either en masse or in detail, are so bright, no shadows so transparent in their dejDth. Neither Correggio, nor Giorgione, surpass him in the arresting charm of their pictures. Often rough and rugged, he could be, when he pleased, soft, delicate, and exact. Kembrandt at one time blends his tones with exquisite skill, subdues the shadows, softens the golden lights. At another he dares everything, and plasters his colours so, that to a close observer, they look like accidental botches, but yet, from a certain distance, have a masterly effect. He was always sure what ho was about ; ahvays certain of the result of what seems most hazardous. He objected to close scrutiny, and used to say, half in jest, when any one drew too near, that " the smell of paint was unwholesome, and ought not. to be inhaled." None but a great master of perspective could have insisted thus on a certain distance. Of his portraits we say with De Piles, they need fear comparison with none of the chefs-cVoeuvre of the greatest masters ; indeed there are few that do not lose by being placed side by side with those of the great Rembrandt. ADRIAN VAN OSTADE AN OSTADE was a master of the highest eminence. In depth of thought, ori- ginality of genius, and knowledge of design, he was inferior only to Rembrandt. He formed one of the band of painters who, in the seventeenth century, left Germany for the purpose of settling in the Netherlands, which were, at that time, the favourite asylum of the amateurs of all nations. In every part of Holland there were, at the era of which we are writing, galleries of paint- ings, which made of the province a kind of Italy of the north. The encouragement there offered to their art attracted, one after another, from less inviting circles of Germany, Adrian and Isaac Van Ostade, Backhuysen, ^•ellack, and Gaspar Netcher, who were all Germans by birth. Adrian Van Ostade was born at Lubeck, in 1610. Of his family we know positively nothing, and even concerning the painter himself very few particulars have been handed down to us. In those warlike and semi-barbarous times people cared so little about the arts of peace, that no one would have thought it worth his while to collect the materiel for a history of painters. Still it is strange that even in Holland, the northern nurse of art, among all the admirers of his genius, there was not one found to give us any trustworthy and interesting biography of this celebrated artist. For us the life of Adrian Van Ostade begins with his professional dehut at Harlem, where he studied for a time in the atelier of Frank Hals, a painter of a bold and vigorous style, who had large ideas, and used bright colouring. In his representation of Flemish scenes he often exaggerated to such a degree, that he shocked Vandyck, who recommended him more moderation, and more strict attention to historical accuracy. But Adrian Van Ostade approved of the exaggerations of his master, and, despite his birth, was in his nature a regular Dutchman. In his style of art, as well in his appearance, he belonged entirely to the counti;y of his adoption. The expression of his face — which was serious, benevolent, and open — was indicative of the simplicity of his character and the regularity of his life. The studied arrangement ctf his subjects, and their exquisite finish, sufficiently attest the conscientious care of the artist, his patience, and his industry. But it would be considered presumptuous in any one, and especially in an amateur, to attem2)t a sketch of Van Ostade, after the excellent likeness he ha« bequeathed to us of himself, in the celebrated 244 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. picture at the Louvre, in which he has painted himself surrounded by his numerous family. That picture is, in all its details, thoroughly Dutch. The crenius of the country breathes in every stroke. The character of the family — their calm, phlegmatic nature — their blameless and simple lives^the even tenor of their dayS — are all faithfully represented on that marvellous piece of canvas. The A painter's atelier. from a PAINTINa BY VAN OSTADB. painter's style tallies admirably with the character of his picture. Ostade himself, his wife, and his eight children, are all ranged in their respective order, according to their age and size, on a large can- vas, illumined by a soft mellow light. The whole furniture of the room consists of a large four-post bedstead. The walls are of a Light gray, inclining to green, which harmonises well with the back- ground of the piece. The white collars and dark garments* of the figures stand out in full relief against ADRIAN VAN OSTADE* 245 A RUSTIC INTERIOR. FROM A PAINTING BY VAN OSTADB. the gray background. Of the girls and boys, the youngest is perhaps about eight ; but they are all so like, in feature and in form, and are, moreover, such fac-simUes of their parents, that there is no question about their being " true chips of the old blocks." They are, indeed, in feature and costume, all as much alike as so many peas. Van Ostade — like a king among his subjects— alone wears his hat ; 246 JOHN CASSELL'S AET TREASURES EXHIBITION. all the others, upon whom he casts a patronising, paternal glance, are bareheaded. The house is the very perfection of cold, conventional neatness and cleanliness ; the boards of the floor are resplendent with their slippery varnish of wax ; and on the even surface nothing is seen but a flower here and there, dropped from the nosegay which the children are presenting to their father, whose birthday they are, in all probability, celebrating, if we may judge by the clean and Sunday-like appearance of their dress. The whole picture is quiet and sober in its tone. The monotony of its lights and shades is unbroken by any experimental or fanciful variations ; and although the contrast of the white and black may appear at first too uniform, it is so skilfully shaded ofi* that it relieves, without impairing, the characteristic calm of the piece, and awakens the attention of the spectator without destroying the unity of the picture. This clief-d' ceuvre is quite unique of its kind ; a charming conception, redolent of domestic peace, of the tranquil enjoyment of a united family, animated with the same hopes, the same fears, the same interests — from the father, who holds his wife's hand in his own, to the youngest boy, who is giving i some cherries to his little sister. The very mention of Van Ostade's name conjures up in the memory a variety of similar scenes. "We have been thus particular in our description of this family masterpiece, because the meagre records we have of the painter himself leave us little but his productions from which we can form an estimate of liis character. Yan Ostade, however, did not come forth at once, " like Pallas armed," a full- fledged painter. He studied long and zealously under his master Hals. He was not, like many of his confreres, dazzled by the name of Italy, or seduced from the steady pursuit of the knowledge of his art by the fatal fascinations of travel. Neither Kembrandt nor Yan Ostade joined the throng of those who saw in Italy a kind of El Dorado of art, and flocked to it as eagerly as palmers did in earlier times to Jerusalem. While studying under Hals, he formed a friendship for a fellow- student of the name of Brawer, whose Christian name was also Adrian, and who had already acquired, unknown to himself, so much skill in his art, that he became the object of what is technically called a conspiracy, Frank Hals and his wife were unprincipled misers, and together they conspired so successfully against the liberty of their pupil, that he was thrown into prison, where he produced several beautiful j^ictures, of v/hich his infamous master received all the profits. Ostade, who was a witness of their wickedness, convinced Brawer that he could support himself by his talents, and advised him to make his escape. Brawer followed his friend's advice, and soon became famous. When Adrian. Yan Ostade left Frank Hals' s atelier, he was some little time before he discovered the style of painting for which he had the greatest natural facility. He was, indeed, much tempted to emulate the style of Kembrandt, v/ith which Francis Hals had often something in common ; but there was even in the weakest productions of Rembrandt a sublime grandeur, a poetry of conception, which was infinitely above the unaspiring genius of Yan Ostade. But in Teniers he found a congenial spirit — a painter, indeed, whose disposition and style exactly tallied with his own predilections. His old friend Brawer, to whom he had been of so much service, had now become a painter of some note ; and meeting Yan Ostade one day, while the latter was still in doubt as to the style he should adopt, he clinched the matter by proving to him, that, as Kembrandt was unapproachable, it was quite as well to be an Ostade as a Teniers. The wavering artist then determined on his course ; but although he adopted a style entirely original, he possessed in his designs many of the characteristics which he had borrowed from Kembrandt and Teniers — he was, at the same time, a household Kembrandt and a serious Teniers. HIS PORTRAIT. In person Adrian Yan Ostade was decidedly good-looking. Though his cast of features, his make, and his manners were all thoroughly Dutch, there was about him that indefinable c^arm with which genius can invest the most ordinary forms, and which in the case of Yan Ostade redeeiv.ed the habitual phlegm of the Dutch tj^e, to which he so essentially belonged. The expression of his features was grave, without being melancholy, and their serious character was softened and mellowed by the beaming benevolence which always lighted up his countenance. The features, taken separately, were what the ADRIAN VAN OSTADE. •247 J^^reiicli would call hien prononces ; but, taken together, they harmonised so well with each other, that the tout ensemble was regular and pleasing. The sober, staid, and quaker-like fashion of his dress adds to the natural seriousness of his appearance. Harlem is the second city of Holland. Its fine streets and spacious squares, its numerous places of amusement, and its wealthy inhabitants, all contributed to make it exactly the place in which an artist of Yan Ostade's genius might succeed. The villages of Hemstedt, Sporenwow, and Tetrode, which lay at convenient distances from Harlem, gave him the opportunity of studying the rustic manners of the people, while the wealthy citizens never tired of patronising the artist. Harlem beer was famous all over Holland, and the city where it was brewed furnished, in consequence, abundance of examples of drinkers and smokers. Yan Ostade has immortalised the race by his graphic masterpieces. Early in life he had married the daughter of the great painter of sea-pieces, Yan Go^^en, and he has left uSj in the family tablccm to which we lately alluded, an enduring evidence of the rapidity with which his family increased. To 2)rovide for the very questionable blessing of so numerous an offspring, Yan Ostade was compelled to lead a laborious and sedentary life. He was a disciple of that school of pliilosophers who hold " Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long." But, although he was quite convinced of the truth of the old maxim that " two removes are as bad as a fire," and, in consequence, stuck most tenaciously to the spot where Fate had planted him, he was so decidedly pacific in all his predilections, that even the bare rumour of wars and disturbances in the neighbouring provinces was sufiicient to induce him to give up his house, his associates and friends, and leave Harlem, with the intention of returning to his native city of Lubeck. "In passing, however, through Amsterdam," says the historian Houbracken, " on his road to Lubeck, a connoisseur, of the name of Constantino Sennepart, argued the point so successfully that he induced Yan Ostade to stay on a visit at his house. He convinced the painter of the many advantages he would enjoy by settling in so large, important, and fiourishing a town as Amsterdam, where his works were so much valued, and where there were so many citizens wealthy enough to purchase them at a highly- remunerative price. Yan Ostade accordingly took up his residence at Amsterdam about the year 1662, and set about that collection of drawings for which Mr. Jonas Witzen gave the sum of 1,300 florins, or about .£120. At the time that he removed to Amsterda-m, that beautiful and flourishing city was the favourite resort of connoisseurs from all the neighbouring countries. Painters who have earned for themselves imperishable fame, thronged to this great emporium of art. All classes of society, all ranks and con- ditions of men, had at Amsterdam their respective artist. The celebrated Dutch Fairs of Lingelbacli, the hunting-pieces and sea-ports of Wouvermans, vied in public estimation with the finished and faithful little portraits of Gerard Houw, or with those fidl-length likenesses of Abraham Yan Tempel, which, in style and colouring, are almost equal to the productions of Yandyck, and of which the fair com- plexions and rich satin drapery fascinated the eye of every spectator. Nor were the elaborate interiors of Dutch dwellings, depicted by Gabriel Metzu, with their life-like representations of ladies at their toilette tables or their harpsichords, or of beaux wiiting love letters, or displaying their accomplish- ments in boudoir or dramng-room, unapprecia.ted in Amsterdam. As to our old friend Adrian Brawer, he was now without a rival in his own peculiar beat of painter of tavern brawls, of dicers and drunkards ; and Paul Potter found a ready market for his shepherds and their flocks ; while the aged Eembrandt, now full of years and glory,- from the unexplored recesses of his secret atelier^ mled with despotic sway the whole race of amateurs j awed them by his genius, and enforced their admiration of his works. It was amid this brilliant galaxy of artistic talent that the star of Adrian Yan Ostade first dawned upon Amsterdam. Great, however, as was the competitive merit with which he had to contend, he was not long in asserting his proper place and power. He did for Protestant Holland what Teniers had done before him for Roman Catholic "Flanders. The vast and una.ccountable distinction between the appearance, character, mainicrs, tastes, and fashions of the two nations, who are so closely connected JOHN CASSELUS ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. 248 as almost to form one people, is not more remarkable than the difference in the style of their respective paiiiteivs — the one is, in all probability, the result of the other. Between the peasantry of Flanders and ol Holland how broad the line of demarcation ! m Their respective characters, as displayed in their different modes of merrymaking, have scarcely a point of resemblance. "The Kermesse," or village festival of the Flemings, of which we gave so graphic an illustration from a painting by Rubens, is an orgie of the noisiest and most joyous kind, in which drinking, dancing, singing, shouting, laughing, and love-making have each tlieii- favourite votarie s JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. 249 THE DUTCH CABAKKT. FROM A PAINTING LV A AN OSTALr. 32 250 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. " Laugliter liolding both his sides " is one of the most impressive types of a Flemish kermesse ; wliile, on the other hand, the usual festival of the Dutch is a serious, sober-looking (we say looJdng^ for the sobriety is only on the surface), phlegmatic, and silent affair. There is little apparent conviviality, though the guests manage to dispose, in their own quiet way, of whole hogsheads of good liquor. In fact, if we may credit the admirable representation which Van Ostade has bequeathed to us of these country merry-makings, the women drink almost as much as the men, and all, of either sex, are fur- nished with glasses of the most capacious dimensions, which they are constantly replenisliing. The tapsters grow weary of their never-ceasing expeditions to the cellar, in their vain attempt to quench the thirst of their all-abscrbing customers. In lamenting over this characteristic vice of his parishioners, the rector of Meudon (a Dutch village) observes that the tapster of the inn ought, like Briareus, to have a hundred hands, that he might be for ever filling the cups of his insatiable customers ; and well does the appearance of the figures introduced by Van Ostade into his national pieces corroborate the truth of this observation. Those eager eyes and those enormous mouths, which cannot slake their thirst out of glasses almost as deep and as large as a well, cleaving with feverish lips to the tankard, which they empty at a draught, give us a melancholy picture of Dutch inebriety. These pieces of Van Ostade are enduring monuments of the manners of the time, and might do for illustrations of those celebrated scenes of Rabelais, in wliich Garagantua, drinking with Friar John, exclaims at intervals, as often as he can draw breath, " How kind is Providence to give us such good liquor ! " "A PAINTER'S ATELIER." The transparency of his colouring, tliough perhaps the greatest, is not the only merit of Van Ostade's pieces ; as a \)vooi of this fact, we adduce the almost priceless value of the engravings taken from his pictures. We mean those engravings which he executed himself, for Van Ostade, like most of the Dutch painters, was himself an engraver. And yet, notwithstanding the estimation in which these engravings are held, we discover in them many of Van Ostade's principal defects. Artists, whose minds are easily impressed with external objects, greatly value the power of recording on copper the passing scenes which strike them as worthy of being remembered. The artist, like the poet, in a moment of inspiration, transfers with his graver to the copperplate the outline of the objects which have captivated his fancy; and it often happens that the hurried sketch taken at the moment possesses more fire and effect than the most elaborate productions. The engravings of Van Ostade are remarkable for the care and labour bestowed upon them. Not a line is without its meaning, not an indenture is made which does not in some way or another contri- bute to the expression of a face, to the sit of a garment, or to the attitude of a figure. The lights and shades are generally cut very short, and it is only in exceptional cases that the demi-tints are multiplied. The engraving of " A Painter s Atelier,'' from wliich our illustration is copied, is a case in point. This piece is a complete triumph of chiaro-oscuro, and reminds us more than any other production of Van Ostade, of the magical effects of Pembrandt's demi-tints, which the artist has here so success- fully imitated. The light pours in a flood of glory through the narrow panes of the casement upon a multiplicity of objects, but the chevalet of the painter, with his canvas containing the sketch upon which he is employed, is in full relief. I RUSTIC INTERIOR." p Whether or not Adrian Van Ostade ever received any instructions in painting from llembrandt is quite uncertain, but all connoisseurs agree that, in his wonderfully characteristic interiors, he was more ^ or less influenced by the example of this great genius, and had mastered some of the secrets of his .mysterious chiaro-oscuro. The light of Pembrandt's pieces has upon us a kind of dramatic effect, and . appeals at once to our imagination. His shadows are invested with an awful mystery ; they are, as it were, peopled with phantoms. In that mystic union of darkness and of light, in which he so ofcen indulged, there is a sublime poetry to which the simple nature of Van Ostade could never aspire ; but ADRIAN VAN OSTADE. 251 he lias borrowed from Rembrandt those vanishing rays of light, those marvellous phases which lend a kind of transparency even to his shadows. In Yan Ostade's picture the ray, a la Rembrandt, which pierces the small diamond-pattern panes of the window of the hut, falls on objects trivial and uninteresting in themselves, but redeemed from their insignificance by the halo which genius can shed around wretchedness, want, and rags. In the Rustic Interior from which our engraving is copied, this Rembrandt ray invests the matter of fact scene with an inexpressible charm. It lights up the figures of the children who are playing with the dog, and it crowns with light the head of the babe, who, supporting its tottering frame on the knees of its grandmother, holds out its chubby and eager little hands for a plaything, which, after a few tantalising moments of uncertainty, will be delivered into its possession. The f ither and his eldest-born son (who is already of an age to aid in the support of the family) watch with affectionate interest the gradual dawn of intelligence in the babe, as she silently displays by her attitudes the wishes of her mind. The charm of " The Rustic Interior " is its excessive simplicity. The tableau is, nevertheless, elaborated with a wonderful attention to detail. Every article of domestic economy in use among the peasant race has been introduced with faithful accuracy — the wicker-work cradle of the infant, the table only half laid out, on which stands the large family jar — an heirloom in this rustic household ; and in the centre of the room old granny's spindle, for so many years the chief solace of her age. In the embrasure of the window is the birdcage ; over against the wall, on a ruinous kind of rack, some few cups and cracked plates ; and higher up, hanging from the beams of a dilapi- dated ceiling, the basket in which the chickens, which are the chief means of support of this frugal family, are carried to market. On the banister of the ladder-like stairs, which lead to the garret, are some articles of clothing hung out to dry ; while lower down in the room is the beer-barrel, which serves the purpose of a family larder, and contains the provisions of our simple household for the next fortnight. Here and there the smoky walls are adorned with a rough engraving of a popular subject ; and thus, even in the humblest dwelling, we have an evidence of the taste for art iidierent in the nature of this impassive and phlegmatic people. The interior, however, notwithstanding the careful elabora- tion of all its details, would have nothing extraordinary about it, and might liave been the work of a mere copyist, but for the redeeming light which gives a Yan Ostade tone and character to the whole piece. Pouring its mellow rays through the open sashes of the casement, it caresses in its warm and cherishing embrace every animate and inanimate object. The characteristic beauty of this chiaro-oscuro, ct la Rembrandt, is, that it envelops with a kind of mysterious shadow all the portions of the picture which the painter's innate perception of propriety told him were more efiectivc? when only dimly visible, while, by way of contrast, it brings into bright and gay relief, from the casein eut to the cradle, every object upon which it falls, not forgetting the dog, who, if not actually a blood relation of the family, is in the true, and not in the fictitious meaning of the words, ^'■Vami de la maiso%' if we may be allowed to vary a little that beautiful definition given of the dog by that celebrated French naturalist, Buff"on. The various household utensils and articles of furniture appear, as we before stated, in the light and in the shadow according to the degree of importance attached to Lriem by the artist, or rather we should say, as he thought they contributed to the general harmony of the whole by the sunshine or the shade in which they were placed. »*A RUSTIC DANCE." Yan Ostade, in his own peculiar style, was as famous as Berghem was in his. No one ever had a more correct appreciation of what was picturesque and fanciful in nature. Even to such a homely scene as this rural dance he has given a charm and a mystery which captivate tlie eye of the spectator, and which invest every character he introduces with a peculiar interest. The scene, though intended to be jovial, has all the phlegmatic character of the nation whose orgies it rc^prcsents. The square built figures of men and women move up and down the floor of this barn-like Dutch cabaret to the music of the pipers, in a measure which is anything but graceful. The women are neither in form feature, gait, or garment, such as any but a Dutchman would willinj^ly invite to figure in a 252 JOHN CASSELKS AUT THEAStlRES EXHIBITlO^T. polka, varsoviaria, or .schottischo. Peiliaps the daiiccs of tlie time of Van Ostade did not hvmir tho partners into sach close contact with one another. But if they did, it was a matter of little conse- quence, for the men and women are in every respect admirably matched. Eacli is worthy of the otlier, and of none other. We do not, indeed, think that in any other eountiy either Dutchman or Dutch- woman could find a helpmeet suitable : such coarse, square-built, sensual, and serious soakei-s and smokers, are all the genuine inhabitants of the seven United I'ruvinces. THE HUMP-BACKED FIDDLER. FROM A PAINTING BY VAN OSTADE. The chiaro-oscuro of thi.s picture is one of its chief attractions. It is also very elaborate in its details, and will repay the careful study of all the various objects which are only dimly visible in the demi-tints with which it abounds. Adam Bartsch, who has bequeathed to us so many interesting particulars concerning Van Ostade, informs us that there are as many as fifty engravings by this celebrated master, without reckoning a ADRIAN VAN OSTADE. 263 THE ITINERANT MUSICIANS FROM A PAINTING BY VAN OSTADE. piece of doubtful pedigree. If we tlien count up the number of exquisite paintinjT.^ so comprehensive in their minutije, and so elaborately fini.shed, di.spersed through the different galleries of Europe, the number of interiors, of cabaret scenes, and of al-fresco festivals, l)esides all the portraits by this great master (for he painted many, and in the best possible style), we shall see that the life of Van Ostade was most laborious and sedentary. It is curious to observe how the phlegmatic and 254 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. self-concentrated nature of the people of Holland seems to characterise the works of all her painters. The}^, to all appearance, breathe an atmosphere of their own, impervious even to the rumour of the events which are happening around them. Both Rembrandt and Yan Ostade outlived the whole of the " thirty years' war." The best part of their lives was passed amid the terrors, tumults, and disasters of that protracted struggle, and yet we find that Rembrandt continued during the whole of his professional career immersed in a kind of dreamy reverie, unconscious of all that was going on around him, and a stranger to the external world. From the recesses of his mysterious cell, while the streets resounded with the bustle of war, and the roar of the cannon was heard from afar, he gave existence to his philosophical conceptions, and turned a deaf ear to the tramp of Mansfeld's troopers. " THE DUTCH CABARET." Van Ostade seems to have been inspired by the genius of Teniers when he painted this " Interior," in which not only the two boon companions, but every little still-life accessory, has a quiet humour, and a quaint simplicity, worthy of the great master of the grotesque. In spite of the very low places — of the very low life — ^which the artist has chosen to depict, there is a great drama in this scene. If one of these "jolly fellows" looks, as the "darky" said, like one "drinking for drunkee," the other is (if we may judge by his hard-working, kindly appearance) really " drinking for dry." The expressions are admirably contrasted. There is a " devil-may-care " expression in the coarse, imcouth face, form, and attitude of him who clutches the pitcher to be ready to replenish the glass he has not yet emptied. Everything about him is animal, sensual, " of the earth earthy." But the votary of the weed is one who "is na fou'," although there's "jist a drappie in his ee." He may be "elevated" by the contents of that same pitcher, but is not degraded by them too. His face is admirably expressive of good humour, and that pleasant close to a day of toil which no one need grudge the son of toil, if he knows, as our friend of the pipe evidently does, " How to be merry and wise." The drawing of this picture is singularly good — carefully and highly finished ; and the adroit dis- position of light and shadow is not unworthy of the great master of the chiaro-oscuro, Rembrandt. How the lambent lustre flickers on the glorious cheek and bottle nose of the toper, lights up the folds of his paper cap, brings out the rotundity of the pitcher, gleams along the stem and bowl of the pipe, plays along the edges of the coarse deal table, touches the rim of the tobacco-box, is reflected from the half-hidden goblet, then flickers on the mild eye of the cobbler, sports with the crow's feet at his temples, lights u]3 his jolly but not yet bottle nose, and marks out the folds of his leathern apron, the ashes of his pipe, and the moulding of his old Dutch chair ! The semi-gloom in which the room is wrapped is aj-tistically devised to throw out the rough figures and the rude furniture — and the picture is decidedly a, chef-d'oeuvre in the Teniers' style. *« THE HUMP-BACKED FIDDLER." This picture brings the scene and the country vividly before us, and so little have the habits, dwell- ings, and costume of the Dutch altered with the march of intellect, and the progress of events, that just such nooks and people might still be found among the meinherrs of the Low Countries, listening to just such a hump-backed fiddler. The ruined arch, beyond -which is seen the tuiTeted chateau ; the old, ungainly dwelling, half cot- tage, half inn, with its clumsy, creaking sign ; the lounging boer, pipe in hand ; the Dutch vrow, lovely only in his eyes, and with one pledge in her arms, while another, hoop in hand, stops to listen to the rude minstrelsy of the itinerant fiddler, — all these have a truth, a nationality, which make these pictures " historical subjects," in that the history of the domestic life of a great nation is faithfully represented in them. The Dutch vrow is not lovely, but she is true to life, and is a very fit mate for the broad-shoul- dered, phlegmatic, boosing, smoking, clod-hopping boer, who, all animal as he is, yet suspends the ADRIAN VAN OSTADE. 255 "delightful task" of obscuriug with smoke the little intellect he possesses, to listen to the strains of that poor pensioner of the poor, the hump-backed fiddler. There is nothing of the cherub of Kaphael in the babe on the vrow's bosom, or of the cupid of Giorgione in the urchin with the hoop, but in each the father sees " a chip of the old block " — the broad-built, strong-limbed, phlegmatic Dutchman, in whom industry without ambition, valour without enthusiasm, love without poetry, and virtue without heroism, are as remarkable to-day as they were when Yan Ostade conceived the picture of " The Hump-backed Fiddler," and will be the same while the Dutch boer and the Dutch vrow lead the same life, and jog on in the same routine. Their ancestors loved, and trained up children (like themselves) in the way in which, from time immemorial, Dutch wisdom has decided the Dutch should go. No one has painted pictures more thoroughly impressed with nationality than Adrian Yan Ostade. Connoisseurs have dwelt much upon the duality of style of which he was equally master ; one manner remarkable for boldness and breadth, the other for a delicacy and minuteness of finish, surpassing that in use among miniature painters. Of this beautiful and captivating manner there is a brilliant specimen in the Louvre, called "The Schoolmaster." Perhaps it is not a compliment to such a genius to com.pare a work of his to a chef-d'oeuvre of enamel painting ; but yet nothing else can convey any idea of the exquisite and transparent polish Yan Ostade occasionally lavished on his smaller pieces, and which has made some Flemish critics declare that some secret art beyond the exquisite finish of his touch produced the efiect to which we allude. It is reported of George III. that he used to wind up an eulogium on West, by saying that his pictures were as smooth as glass ! The same naive critique would apply to those gems of Yan Ostade's which contrast so forcibly with other masterpieces of his remarkable for beauties of a directly opposite nature. It required no little versatility of genius to excel alike in all that is deftly small and proudly great. Yet this triumph Yan Ostade achieved. ITINERANT MUSICIANS." Like all the great masters of their art, Yan Ostade was a studious and most discriminating observer of human nature in all its different phases. At once simple and profound, a painter by intuition, and yet perfect in all the secrets of his art, original in his tone, and yet skilled in all the mysteries of colour, he was never more successful than when he chose for his canvas some rural subject. In his village scenes he displays at once all the rare qualifications for which he was famous in his calling. In the painting of the "Itinerant Musicians," from which our engraving is taken, we see a wandering minstrel eliciting from his cracked and creaking fiddle some notes of a hackneyed and popular air. His dress consists of the cast-ofi" and faded disguise of some tragedy king of a country theatre. The battered hat which shades his wrinkled and weather-beaten physiognomy is surmounted with a plume plucked from the wings of chanticleer. By his side a young votary of the art, whose features express all the pride and self-sufficiency of the leader of the band of the Italian Opera, is accompanying his father on an instrument of minor dimensions. The sneering, sarcastic, and saucy expression of the old ballad-monger, sufficiently indicates the spirit of his catches. He is importing into the village the morals of the metropolis ; and he is giving point to the broad humour of the ballad he is trolling by the mimickry of his attitude and features. The efiect he produces on his motley auditors is described with that happy facility and fidelity which distinguish all Yan Ostade's productions. Behind him a lover of good cheer is so convulsed with laughter at the humour of the song, that he finds it impossible to maintain the perpendicular, and sinks overcome on the stone bench at his side. Of the two children to the right of the minstrel, the one is gaping in idiot wonder at the sounds which convey no meaning to his mind, while the other, whose face beams with intel- ligence, is gazing with admiring eyes on the young musician, whose precocious talent he is eager to emulate. The grouping of the whole tableau is most artistic, and will remind the spectator, if ever he has tarried for any length of time in a quiet country hamlet where still may be traced some lingering remains of primseval simplicity, of many a similar scene. Without a thorough knowledge of 256 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. t]jt3 Iniman lieart, without a delicate appreciation of the motives wliich iiitiuuiiee ami actuate that com. licated j)iece of machinery — the human mind, the painter could never liave elaborated a composition so [)erfect in all its details, or have described, in the varying expression of the several faces, the effect upon different characters of the minstrel's melody. But great as is the merit of the design, and artistic as is the filling up of the piece, the chief attraction of the picture consists in the harmony of the tints, and the exquisite management of the liglit. A celebrated connoisseur, in his criticism of this chef-iV(tuvre^ remarks : — " The scene of this picture is shaded by a wide Ijranching tree, and by the leafy stalks of' the hop plant climbing nj) the poles. The light steals through the branches, and, falling on the wall in the centre of the tableau, spreads from object to object — sun- shine gradually mellowing into shade. The general tone of the picture is bright. The transparency of JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. £57 PAUL POTTER FROM A PAINTING BY HIMSELF, the foliage, however, invests all the objects with a greenish hue, which is the result of the leafy canop}' through which the rays jjenetrate. This curious tint, which is so characteristic of Van Ostade's colouring, is, in this case, a great beauty, as it borrows its hue from the surrounding foliage. The walls, the door, the country around, have all a natural tone, and are remarkable for the delicacy of the shading. They are, in fact, as regards this style of painting, the very perfection of art." "THE GAME OF GALET." This is a game which has no exact counter- part in England, though it may, perhaps, have been the origin of our game of bagatelle or billiards. The ball is impelled by the hand along the deal board, and not by a cue, as in the two latter games. The painting, from which our en- graving is taken, is valuable from the life-like picture it gives of a Dutch cabaret of the seven- teenth century, and of the appearance and man- ners of the customers. The management of the light in " The Game of Galet " is a triumph of artistic skill. It is warm, penetrating, and 33 258 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TI^EASURES EXIinsiTlON. * cherishing. The dilapidated facing of the antiquated cabaret at the entrance to which the Dutch boers are boozing ; the grouping of the different figures ; the lazy kind of attention which the spectator is bestowing on the progress of the game ; the design of the thatch which shields the galet board from the effects of the sun and rain ; all give evidence of the amount of care and observation bestowed uj^on minute details by this accomplished artist. Van Ostade had a peculiar touch, which was one of the most precious characteristics of his style. How often, in scanning the art treasures of the Louvre, fias the discriminating connoisseur been struck with admiration of some small 2)roduction of Adrian Van Ostade' s, of which the subject was possibly nothing more important than a Dutch merchant reading a letter. So wonderfully, however, has the painter caught the expression of his model, and such a history of hopes and fears, joys and sorrows, doubts and certainties, has he managed to extract from the varying gaze of the reader, that tli(/atten- tion of the spectator is riveted upon the piece. And what may not that letter contain which he clutches so tightly, and which his eyes seem to devour, as they read it ? He is evidently some enter- prising jolanter or coloniser, who has just received advices of the progress of his settlement in a distant hemisphere. Perchance, some disaster has overtaken his argosy, and he has now just learned the particulars of the event. The recij^ient of the letter is, however, a Dutchman to the backbone, and reads, with impassive stoicism, accounts that would blanch any cheek but his. Nevertheless, beneath that calm exterior there is an under current of sentiment and feeling which wrinkles the brow, farrows the cheek, and dims, prematurely, the brightness of his eye. But the native dignity of the Dutchman is all the while unruffled. Adrian Yan Ostade died at Amsterda.m in 1685, at the advanced age of seventy-five. We say advanced, for although seventy-five is for a less sedentary career comparatively young, painters seldom have attained so great a degree of longevity. Most of Yan Ostade' s contemporaries died long before the time of life to which he was allowed to reach. He had for his pupil his brother Isaac, one of the most extraordinary landscape painters of any age or country. Critics and connoisseurs have affected to think him inferior to his master, Descamps ; but this we attribute rather to an insufficient acquaint- ance with the beauties of his masterpieces — Avhich a golden haze and a rustic poetry of co»ception render quite unapproachable — than to any inferiority in the artist. Among other imitators or pupils of Adrian Yan Ostade, we may mention Cornelius Dusart, Cornehus Bega, and David E-yckaert. All these artists borrowed from their master the conversational style of tableau. From him .they learned to paint to the life, the exterior of the labourers' hut, the rural pastime, and the various emotions which actuate the peasants' life. HIS MERITS. Adrian Yan Ostade has often been compared with Teniers : " But Teniers," say the critics, " was better skilled in the grouping of his figures, and superior to Yan Ostade in the conception of his whole piece." Our artist, indeed, was in the habit of placing his point of light so high, that his interiors have sometimes rather an awkward appearance, and Avould be ridiculous if he had not known how to fill the vacant space with the minutiae of detail he so admirably introduced. The colouring of Teniers is clear, lively, and silvery ; whereas that of Yan Ostade has, with the same amount of transparency, a vigour, a warmth, and a uniformity which we find in no other painter. Yan Ostade economises his light in the way that Bembrandt had done before him. Under his management it penetrates with a mellowed ray through leafy bowers, or steals into the peasant's cot, through the tissues of ivy which shade the casement of his cabin ; and in this way we are captivated by the kind of mysterious charm which this light possesses. Teniers, on the other hand, brings out his figures into the full light of day ; and, without doing violence to his shadows, or in any way inter- fering with his artistic conception, he gives to his whole piece the interest and the breath of life. In copying nature, skilfully and faithfully, he infuses into his whole scene a spirit of love, laughter, and liveliness. His rural festivals are remarkable — ^in the beaming eyes of his peasants, their joyousness, their excitement, their anger, and their rows — for the variety of character they represent. Every age, every condition of life has its representatives ; and in the same piece with the reeling peasant, brutalised by his debauchery, we see figures which redeem the character of the festival, by the dignity cf their carriage and the superiority of their dress. Yan Ostade, on the contrary, limits his choice of subjects PAUL POTTER. 259 to tlioso Dutcli peasants who, in their tipsy revels, only represent all that is most degrading and gro- tesque in human nature. Emeric David remarks of Yan Ostade that he is a satirist, who exaggerates the natural hideousness of his subjects, to render them more funny and ridiculous. This is scarcely fair. It is Tcniers, and not Yan Ostade, who is the satirist. If you wish to amuse yourself at the expense of the peasant race, enter unceremoniously a cabaret with Teniers, and you will see peasant life in its most humorous light ; but, if you wish to make yourself really well acquainted vdth the manners of the lower classes in Holland, you cannot do better than study that little masterpiece of Adrian Ostade, in which he has given a faithful picture of the entrance to a village cabaret. PAUL POTTER. OME Dutch painters, said a French writer of eminence, " have given to nature an indescribable language which touches the heart, excites the imagination, and superinduces a pleasing reverie that cheats the world of half its worldliness." Theirs is a magic power which can hold us for hours in the contemplation of subjects the most commonplace and even homely in appearance. What is there in a meadow, through which meanders a brook, fringed with willows ; a valley through which flows a mountain torrent, swollen by the storm, of which we still see on the horizon, now blazing with the light of the setting sun, the last traces; or a fisherman's hut, on a desert shore, at the foot of a naked rock, with a stormy sea in the distance, and far over the waters a white and swan-like sail almost buried between the crests of two mountainous waves ; — what is there in all tliis to exercise over our imaginations so powerful a sway ? It is not the mere combination of these simple and even uninviting objects which interests the spectator; it is the manner in which the artist has treated them — it is his inspiration which bears us along with him, and inoculates us with his own enthusiasm. In the animal creations of Paul Potter, homely and domestic as they are, we see plainly developed the economy of their life ; each is, in fact, a representative type of his whole race. Descamps informs us that Paul Potter, the celebrated animal painter, was a scion of the house of Egmond, through his grandmother. His grandfather was collector of revenues in Upper and Lower Swaluve, and his ancestors had filled the most important civic offices in the town of Enkhuysen, where Paul Potter was born, in the year 1625. He was the son of Peter Potter, a painter of very moderate pretensions, who, a short time after the birth of his son, removed to Amsterdam for the purpose of obtaining the right of citizenship there. Paul Potter had at first no other master than his father, whom he greatly surpassed in merit as soon as he had acquired the first rudiments of drawing. Descamps tells us that he was a prodigy of genius. When he was fourteen years old he was already a master of his art ; and his works, even at that early age, rank with the productions of the greatest painters of the time. After an attentive study of the c/te/s-(i'ceit^;re with which Amsterdam abounds, Paul Potter left the paternal roof, and took up his abode at La Haye. His object in this change was to secure a greater amount of liberty than he enjoyed at home, with full licence to follow the dictates of his own genius. At La Haye he lived next door to Nicolas Balkenende, the architect, who had acquired a certain amount of fame in that town. This Balkenende had a lovely daughter, and Paul Potter, who had for " the beautiful " all the enthusiastic admiration of the artist, soon became deeply enamoured of this fair enchantress. The young damsel, flattered by the attentions of the painter, encouraged his suit ; but when Paul asked of her father his consent to their marriage, the Dutch architect contemptuously replied, that he would never give his daughter to an artist who painted nothing but animals. The lover, however, nothing dismayed at his rebufi", enlisted in his cause the wealthy and influentiai' ^(50 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. picture-fanciers, who appreciated his talent, and who already offered large sums for his animals. The architect, proud as he was, was soon made to feel that an alliance wiih a man so renowned as Paul Potter, was rather an honour than a discredit, although he did paint nothing but animals. The architect saw his error, and graciously repaired it by giving Potter his daughter in marriage, who THE COW AND HER SHADOW. FROM A PAINTING BY PAUL POTTER. forthwith installed himself in a magnificent house, which he made a perfect temple of the muses. He was courted by all the princii)al magnates of the land ; wits and sages, foreign ambassadors, and even the Prince of Orange himself made of the atelier of Paul Potter a kind of rendezvous, which the artist enlivened by his wit, his learning, his agreeable conversation, and his refined and capti- PAUL POTTER. 261 Vatiiig manners. Everywheie welcomed as the great, lion of the day, the artist, instead of diminishing, enhanced the importance of his father-in-law, the architect. IHE PASTURE GROUND. FFOM A PAINTING BY PAUL POTTER. HIS PORTRAIT. If the great painter of animals was as good-looking as he is represented in the i)ortrait from which our engraving is copied, it is not at all surprising that the architect's daughter encouraged his atten- tions, even at the risk of incurring her father's displeasure. The eyes, which are large and expressive, have that peculiar slope which gives a character of archness and humour to the face eminently attrac- tive. The chiselled chin and the curved lip denote a determination and manliness which excite the 2«2 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. admiration, and even the c jnfidence, of the weaker and more dependent sex. In the tout ensemble of the face there is a look of self-sufficiency vWiich proves that the painter, although in the prime of life when this likeness was taken, had already acquired that reliance on his own powers which is one of the great sources of success in life. But however prepossessing Paul Potter may have been in appearance (and that he was handsome there can be no doubt, from the portrait before us), he had in the reputation he had already achieved among men a far greater claim to the admiration of the heau-sexe. There is, indeed, nothing so irresistible with women as fame amongst men ; and the reason of their preference for those who have already distinguished themselves in the world is, that they know that men, who are far ""ess the creatures of impulse than their gentle helpmates, are niggards of their praise, and only lavish it upon those who possess, in an extraordinary degree, that manly vigour of mind or person which women prize so highly, because it is so great a contrast to their own confiding helplessness. In addition to the prestige of his name and the graces of his person, Paul Potter had those of con- versation and manner, which, if we may believe the old adage — That man, indeed, is no man Who, with his tongue, can't win a woman" — did more for him in his suit than all his other advantages put together. He had received a first-rate education, and had, moreover, from natuj-e, that invaluable savoir-faire which enabled him to turn it to the best account. No country in the world offers greater facilities for a painter of animals than Holland — the alluvial soil produces the most splendid pastures, everywhere intersected and watered by fertilising canals — nowhere in Europe could a painter, in the style of Paul Potter, have found living models in richer abundance or greater perfection. Nowhere has nature supplied a greater variety in the colour and coats of the herds of kine and flocks of sheep, who graze upon that vast and verdant meadow,^ which the tourist in Holland sees spread on all sides, and to an illimitable extent around him. It has been remarked by a great French naturalist that nature contrasts the colour of the animals with that of the country around them ; and nowhere has the truth of this observation been better verified than in Holland. The landscape is monotonous and melancholy ; the sky, gray, cold, and cheerless ; and yet the coats of the cattle are bright, rich, and varied. Nature seems to have intended that the variegated hues of the cattle should compensate for the tiring sameness of the country. Whether this is really the case or not, it is quite certain that every traveller in Holland is struck with admiration at the beautiful and leopard-like spots of the horned cattle. These are spread over a ground sometimes gray, sometimes red, and very often, over a coat of milky white, we see, scattered here and there (with an effect exceedingly pleasing to the eye), auburn spots, shining with a soft and golden light. Even if the colours of the coat of any individual cow may, when taken apart from the herd, blend but badly with each other, the animal, when seen in conclave, will harmonise with the rest of the flock. In the immediate neighbourhood of La Haye Paul Potter found plenty of models for imitation ; and his great object was to copy them, unperceived, while they were chewing the cud under a tree, or sleeping throvigh the heat of mid-day. For this purpose he never went forth without taking with him a blank copy-book, in which he drew sketches of everything lie thought worthy of his attention. The cattle were his chief study ; other things, such as a tree, a plant, a stile, a quickset hedge, or a shepherd, he struck off in a moment without bestowing upon them the same earnest attention. But cows, sheep, and goats were the children of his fancy ; and no Egyptian ever spent more time in the contem- plation of Serapis, nor Hindoo in the adoration of the sacred bull, than did Paul Potter in the st\idy of his favourite cattle, '*THE COW AND HER SHADOW." We are not in the habit of associating any idea of feminine coquetry with that ruminating, sedate, respectable being, so full of the milk of kindness — the domestic cow. And though Paul Potter, with a touch of that humour universal among artists of all descriptions, has chosen to call his admirable picture of the cow standing at the edge of a stream, which reflects her form, " La Yache qui se Mire," we are disposed to acquit " the milky naother of the herd " of anything approaching the PAUL POTTER. 263 feeling tliat animated Eve when she first discovered that she was beautiful, by the aid of that primeval mirror of the new-made world, the fountain. There is no sparkle of gratified vanity in the large, soft, velvet eye of Paul Potter's vaccine heroine. She is the heotu-idecd of a good, serviceable cow. The line of beanty is, as Hogarth said, a curve, but she is all angles; her attitude is true to nature. There is nothing about her so human as vanity, no symptom that her own reflexion pleases or excites her. We love her all the better for being simply and solely what nature intended her to be, a cow ! Great nurs- ing mother of all the sons and daughters of men ! We can almost fancy, as we gaze upon her, that from her dewy muzzle, softer than velvet, steams forth that balmy breath, sAveeter than new-mown hay or fresh culled violets, and redolent, not merely of "joy and youth," but of green fields, clear pebbled brooks, daisies, buttercups ; the far sweet country, childhood, with its glad realities ; youth, with its wild dreams, — all these come crowding back upon the heart as we gaze on Paul Potter's cow by the stream. The distribution of this picture is very good ; the trees are well placed, well drawn, their foliage is light, graceful, and with something in the distinctness of the leaf, anticii^ative of pre-Paphaelitism. The water is pellucid and admirably chequered by the sky, and animated by the objects it reflects. There are two other cows, a milkmaid, a man, and a dog, to complete the group. But they are merely accessories. The lorima donna — the centre figure — is the cow, gazing in her glass with a composure the whole female world would do well to emulate. The other cows take as little interest in her charms as the fair generally do when there is no object to be gained, no heart to be won, no male flirt to throw the apple of discord among those who are always friends till man makes them rivcds. The milkmaid is not remarkable for beauty of person, or grace of attitude ; but if " handsome is that haudsome does," we may not pronounce her ugly ; for she is scrubbing out her milk-pail with right good- will — the more zealous perhaps, that the eye of the master is on her, so that she may be, perhaps, but an eye-servant after all. Tliere is a great reality about the distance — flat, formal, and thoroughly Dutch as it is. We can believe that the rude sketch of this picture was made by Paul Potter from the scene itself, during one of those rambles he Avas so constantly taking, sketch-book in hand, in his own quiet, but fertile country, and that the cow by the stream, as it is certainly to the life, was from the life also. "THE PASTURE." And good pasture too, we should imagine, judging by the sleek, well-to-do look of the principal figure, who seems almost as " rounded " and oppressed as an alderman a.fter a civic feast. This is a picture suggestive of comfortable reflections and pleasurable emotions. If it is j)ainful to see the beasts of the field, all so capable of animal enjoyment, starved, hunted, beaten, and oppressed, a living reproach to the cruelty and sordid avarice of man, it is refreshing and soothing to view the creatures so essential to our comfort, gainers by the system of mutual accommodation, and living witnesses of the " wisdom of mercy." The scenery of this picture is soft and sylvan, and the contrast of the green tree, and its bare and blighted neighbour, suggestive of bright youth and desolate old age. There was a good deal of the poetic element in the mind of this singular genius, who, with that passionate energy so often found in those predestined to -an early death, worked night and day at his great art, as if he knew how soon he would be able to work no more. It is recorded of him that he painted all day, engraved a great part of the night, and never even strolled out for the recreation of a ramble without his pencil and portfolio in his hand. ... "HORSES AT BAIT." Although cows were his favourite study, no artist has ever drawn horses more naturally or more artistically than Paul Potter. His models, however, were not the prancing steeds of Wouvermans, or those fiery Andalusian chargers upon which Yandyck was fond of mounting his loyal cavaliers. The model that Paul Potter chose for his pieces was the patient, useful cart-horse, powerful and sleek, such as we see him in the picture from which our engraving is copied. The Dutch draught-horse is some- what different from the celebrated Flanders breed. But the cross with the English stock served to give greater height and size of bone to our own original ]2.eavy-set cart-horse. The scene of the " Horses at Bait " is highly characteristic of the country in Avliich it is taken. 264 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. "THE MEADOW.' This is a meadow that makes one ahuost envy the cattle, who look so real, and seem to be so thoroughly enjoying the pastoral beauties. We fancy that the sun has just peeped from behind the light volumes of cloud that are rolling over the deep, deep blue of an autumnal sky. On the soft and emerald sod, from which we can imagine that, *' Glisteoing ia the freshened field, The snowy mushroom springs," the bold, masterly shadow of the ox finely contrasts the sunshine sleeping on the grass. There is a middle distance, very unpretending, but of rare merit, and a farm-house, half hidden among trees, where we can fancy the home virtues nestle, and Industry, with her rosy daughter. Competence, resides. HORSES AT BAIT, FROM A PAINTING BY PAUL POTTER. The inhabitants of the meadow seem to be bachelors ; and one of these lords of the brute creation, perhaps finding little to solace or amuse him in the company of the male sex, is straining his neck over the stile, and seems to be bleating for some ** Fair spirit for his minister." Perhaps he espies the slender form of some sleek heifer in the fields beyond ! The trunk of the tree is bold and effective, and the stile is one over which a schoolboy would delight to vault. It was a pity that Paul Potter, in a wish to imitate the great masters, who at that time honoured Amsterdam with their presence, tried, in spite of the brilliant success of his small pastoral subjects, to adopt a larger, bolder style. He seems to have fancied that by painting cows and bulls the size of Hfe, % JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. 265 he could give to his cattle-pieces the dignity ami importance of the great historical pictures at that time rendering his contemporaries so illustrious. But how was it possible even for Paul Potters !enius to reconcile the spectator to colossal animals, whose huge horns touched the frame and who foidTproduce n^^^^ not seen from that distance" which "lends enchantment to the view" The charm of cattle-pieces consists in the images they conjure up. The stalled ox is interesting only to the agriculturist and stock-breeder. _ , , j . r -r w It is true that, at La Haye, one of these enormous pictures is exhibited as a chef-dceuvre. But to the eye of taste it does not answer the expectations excited by the undeserved praises of tourists and penny-a-liners The touch is bold and masterly, we own; and the animals have a startling reality about them : but the tout ensemble is sadly deficient in tone and effect. The eye is offended, and even shocked, by these huge proportions, so unexpected and so unusual in subjects of this kind; and the THE MEADOW. FROM A PAINTING BY PAUL POTTER. ^reat precision of Paul Potter, so admirable in his smaller pieces, is cold and ineffective on a larger scale. A more dashing style is requisite in a picture of such gigantic proportions ; more force, more fire, and some rare efi'ect of chiaro-osmro, by which Cuyp or Eembrandt would have insured the suc- cess of such a bold attempt. These remarks are even more applicable to that great " Bear Hunt," exhibited at the Amsterdam MuseUm, and which is certainly the least meritorious of Paul Potter's works. Ruysdael had the art of representing an infinity of depth and distance on a canvas a foot square. M. Thore, speaking of Paul Potter's colossal animals, said, " Albert Kuyp represented crea- tures of much more gigantic proportions on a very small panel." The size of the canvas has nothing to do with that of the objects depicted. The smallest figure Michael Angelo ever painted is grander than your most majestic forms. Benasmito engraved on the hilt of a sword battles, worth all those two leagues of warlike pieces, exhibited at Versailles. 34 266 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. "THE BULL." Our artist was fond of representing the three-quarter view of his subject, as he fancied that the face of the animal was more expressive when only partially seen. The bull in our engraving is a noble creature, and might have stood for the model of that glorious animal into which Jupiter transformed himself when he wooed and won the too credulous Europa. The admixture of sheep and goats with his ruminant animals is one of the characteristics of our artist's style, and creates a pleasing variety. His horned models are, however, always in full relief and arrest the attention of the spectator. In the colouring of their coats he applies all the resources of his genius, and upon the harmony of the tints he bestows all his attention, care, and patience. Every shade and every line are the result of long and arduous study. The curve of the horns, the motion of the eyelids, upon which so much of the fierce- ness or gentleness of the animal depends ; the size and slope of the ears, the way in which the coat lies on the back, and the places in which it rises in rough and round tangles, all these minutiaa, together with the faithful representation of the dewlap and of the extremities, never before described by any artist with so much accuracy, distinguish Paul Potter from every other master in his own peculiar style, of any age or any country. In the engraving of " The Bull," how admirably the artist has drawn the line of demarcation between the male and the female of the same race. In the cow the face is long, the forehead open, and the eyebrows slightly marked ; while in the bull, the head is short and bristling, the expression fierce, the neck of a breadth and thickness quite remarkable, the chest heavy, but the shoulders small, and the hinder portions still smaller, in comparison with the size of the animal. But if Paul Potter's genius failed him in the bold attempt of introducing the humble denizens of the field and farmyard large as life, and on a huge canvas, what success did it not enable him to achieve in those small pictures, of which the dimensions were suited to the simplicity of the subject 1 How strikingly did he develop in them all the powers of his pencil, all the refinement of his mind, all the feelings of his heart ! 'No one can gaze on those exquisite pictures of rural scenery and animal life, painted two hundred years ago by Paul Potter, without admiring their truth, their humour, and their delicate efiects of light and shade. But few, we trust, have examined these cliefs-d'wuvre without appreciating their sentiment, and being conscious of a heart, a soul. A distinguished connoisseur said of Paul Potter's smaller cattle-pieces, " Other artists have produced cows, oxen, sheep, well drawn, well painted. Paul Potter alone has caught their individuality, their expression, their instincts." We admire the flocks and herds of Berghem, of Van de Yelde, and of Karl Dujardin ; but those of Paul Potter not only delight our minds, they touch our hearts. Paul Potter studied animals closely, their anatomy, their habits, their tempers, their attitudes — so eloquent of their passions and emotions. LANDSCAPE, WITH COWS." This is another bull scene. The short-horned hero is one of those black warriors, with a white forehead, which Potter was so fond of introducing among his speckled cattle. In the expression of his face there is something very fierce and vicious. His eyes glare, his mouth is half open, as though he was muttering some taurine note of defiance. Woe to those who are within reach of his mighty wrath. The trunk of the pollard willow would ofier but small protection against so formidable a foe. The placid cow, however, more composed and less aux petits soins than most wives would be in the presence of such a tyrannical mate, is ruminating, really, and not metaphorically, at her ease ; while the welkin roars with the aimless, impotent bellowings of the furious buU. Another of the tyrant's wives— for, like Brigham Young, our swarthy buU is a great polygamist— is slowly and sedately wending her way to some refreshing watering-place, or to some more abundant pasturage. The land- scape is a faithful picture of the country in the neighbourhood of La Haye, level, monotonous, and uninteresting, with a few barren sand hills in the distance. In this respect, however, the neighbour- hood of La Haye is only on a level with the greater part of northern and central Europe ; and the Dutch need not blush for the flatness of their country, when they can retaliate on their disparagers, by declaring that between Paris and St. Petersburg there is not a single hill. PAUL POTTER. 267 It seems at the first blush to be a mystery how an artist, whose productions are so redolent of calmness, meditation, and peace, could have successfully carried on his profession among the wits, the worldlings, the wiseacres, the princes, and plenipotentiaries who thronged his ateHer. The interrup- tions of society must, we should think, have jarred with the conception of those tjrpes of peace and retire- ment — his pastoral scenes. But those who see deeper than the mere surface of things are aware how much apparent contradiction there is in the nature of the genuine artist ; how the man who in solitude is the most melancholy being in the world, becomes at once the gayest of the gay, when surrounded by congenial spirts who sympathise with. his tastes, and appreciate his talent. Paul Potter was one of those volatile beings whose acces of gaiety and depression were always in extremes. "With a ready wit, an irresistible power of repartee, and an enviable fluency of speech, he was always the most amusing and popular man of the company. If his witticisms were occasionally broad, and his humour objectionable on the score of refinement, we must rather blame the age and country in which he lived than the tendency of his own mind. The proof which his enemies adduce of his want of proper delicacy and tact is, in reality, only indicative of the great simplicity of his character. The Dowager Princess Emily, Countess of Zolms, had ordered of Potter a painting for the chimney-piece of one of the most magnificent rooms in the state palace. Paul Potter, who was anxious to surpass, on this occasion, all his former achievements, painted in the foreground of a lovely, laughing landscape, a cow in a most objectionable attitude. A courtier, who stood high in the favour of the jDrincess, con- sidered the piece, notwithstanding its acknowledged merits, ill-suited for the occasion, and by no means a proper object for a princess to have constantly before her eyes. The princess herself was of the same opinion, and the picture was in consequence returned to the artist. But it did not long remain on hand ; for the anecdote connected with it having got wind, picture-fanciers contended with each other for the possession of this cow, which, having thus become famous, was a source of far greater profit to the artist than he had originally anticipated j and has figured successively in all the principal galleries of the Low Countries. It was for a long time an heirloom in the family of Mussart, who had filled the office of Sheriff* of Amsterdam, and passed at length into the hands of Yan Biesum, who sold it for two thousand florins — ^which is more than .£80 — ^to Van Hoeck. This picture-fancier placed the famous cow in his cabinet just opposite to a masterpiece of Gerard Douw, which was in every way a complete contrast to it. The forest of La Haye, which, on account of its beauty, was saved from that wholesale destruction of life and property m which Philip II. delighted to indulge, was one of the favourite retreats of Paul Potter. He has introduced the wood into many of his most famous pictures, and especially into that celebrated piece called " A View of the Forest of La Haye," which fetched twenty-seven thousand francs at the sale of the pictures of the Duke de Choiseul. At the entrance of the wood are a pack of hounds led by a huntsman, and ready braced for the chase. Through the openings of the trees horsemen are discovered passing by, together with a few cows driven by a herdsman. This piece is, strictly speaking, a landscape. We mean that the figures are subordinate in impoi-tance to the large trees under whicli they are seen. Landscape painting was not, however, Paul Potter's forte ; and artists who envied his success say, that in his landscapes there is a most disagreeable monotony of background. Such a criticism, however, when applied to the works of a painter of animals, is unfair and irrelevant. Paul Potter may not have the fire, the inspiration, the rich and fertile fancy of Berghem ; he cannot, like Berghem, throw a mellow ray over a landscape, rendered picturesque by time-hallowed ruins scattered here and there ; but he is far more natural, truthful, and national. He passed the whole of his life in the damp and level country in which he first drew his breath, and could not, therefore, borrow from the sun of an Italian sky that warm and golden ray which gives so much life and beauty to the noble landscapes of Berghem. He had never seen with his own eyes any other canopy than the gray and watery skies of his own province ; and the only landscape on which he had gazed was a long and level plain, bounded by the horizon, and dotted hither and thither with the pointed steeples of the clnirches of the Dutch villages. This sinking horizon and this pale and unpromising sky he has reproduced faithfully in his pictures, without any disparagement or embellishment of his own. Paul Potter's love-match could not have turned out a happy one, for although the beautiful and youthful Adrienne Balkenende, whom he selected as his help-mate, possessed those external charms 268 JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. which are essential in the model wife" of a painter, the rich casket did not contain that only pearl of price — a virtiions heart. Yain, inconsider ite, coquettish, fond of dress, pleasure, and admiration, the idol of Paul Potter's fancy was not content with the sovereignty of her lawful and loyal dominion. She tried to please the great and gay of that time and place, all of whom frequented her husband's studio. Vanity led, as it so often does, to the sacrifice of virtue. Her husband discovered that she was faithless, by a device borrowed from the old mythology, and not exactly fit to be recorded here. At any rate it exposed the false wife and treacherous guest to universal contempt and ridicule, frightened away all the other gay butterflies who had delighted to hover round this now blasted rose, and brought PAUL POTTER. 269 LANDSCAPE WITH COWS. FROM A PAINTING BY PAUL POTBER. her, abashed and j)enitent, to her senses, and to her husband's feet, to find, strange to say, forgiveness there ! He must indeed have loved this frail flower, to have taken it, disgraced and sullied as it was, again to his bosom. " On pardonne tant quCon aime,"" says the lightest of French maximists, but perhaps Paul Potter'n JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. sublime forgiveness might have been traced to that perennial lount of pardon, a Christian Spirit Perhaps, witli a prophetic sense (not uncommon in those destined to die young) that he was soon trt stand himself at the judgment seat of his God, he wished to be able to say, "Forgive me my trespasses, as I have forgiven hers." Perhaps he thought of his great Master's sentence, when a similar culprit cowered in the dust before him, " Go, and sin no more." Of course, after the public exposure and detection of his wife's frailty. La Haye was no pleasant residence for the guilty wife and injured husband ; they were, it seems, as they would have been anywhere else, in common phrase, " the talk of the town," They took refuge in Amsterdam, where Paul Potter's own family lived, and where he was warmly welcomed by " Tulp, the Burgomaster," who coveted all his productions j and, indeed, almost all the chefs'cPoeuvre of Paul Potter were purchased by this wealthy amateur, and adorned his choice collection. HIS MERITS. When we speak of the merits of such an artist as Paul Pottw, we feel indeed How poorly eloquence of words Translates the tenderness of hearts like his." For it is, as a great critic has said, in the touching "tenderness" of Paul Potter's nature (as evidenced in his works), that he so far surpasses all who have toiled like him in the great fields of nature and art ! L'Abbe de Lamennais says of him, that he endowed nature with a subtle eloquence, almost* undefinable, and yet universally felt — a something which excites our emotions, touches our hearts, moves our very spirits, leads us to indulge in sweet fancies, and gently guides our thoughts to the contemplation of the infinite, the boundless, the eternal ! In what consists (he asks) this mysterious magic by which he holds us spell-bound for hours together, wrapt in dreamy contemplation, before nature in her simplest and most ordinary forms 1 A meadow, with a clear brook, and a few old willows. A valley crossed by a torrent swollen by the storm, and of which the distant windings, bright and red in the setting sun, blend with the horizon, and are lost there. A poor cabin on a wild common, at the foot of a bare rock, and in the distance the sea — a stormy sea, and far, far off a solitary sail, bowed by the winds, and almost ingulfed by the waves. Who does not behold in all this the artist's, the poet's mind — his inner self, which in a manner becomes part of your own, and governs you % Yes, it is the great genius of art, which bears you up on its strong and buoyant wings, to regions far above any that the mere senses can ever reach ! Do you not discern beneath the external forms of Paul Potter's animals an inner self, an individuality peculiar to each ? Not merely the creature, but all that distinguishes its identity — expression, attitude, even the very glance of the eye — all, in Paul Potter's animals, seems eloquent with an eloquence stronger than that of language ! In such scenes of animal and rustic life as those which have immortalised the name of Pa.ul Potter, the soul of the artist is as legible as in the greatest efforts of historical painters. His engravings in aquafortis are of the highest order of merit ; and he worked so hard, with such passionate energy and unremitting zeal, both as a painter and an engraver, that his life, though a very short one for all other purposes, was — if we reckon it by the years entirely devoted to his art — not a short one for the painter. He seems to have given to his sublime calling all those hours too often lavished by genius on dissipation, folly, indolence, or vanity j and thus he died a Great Master at the early age of twenty- nine. All that we know of Paul Potter's life inspires us with an affectionate respect for his memory. He was of that loving, confiding temper, so often united with the highest order of genius. Looking at the melancholy beauty of his noble countenance, and the slender proportions of his graceful form, and reading his pure and poetical mind, translated in his fascinating pictures, we cannot think without a pang of the agony he must have felt when betrayed by the woman he loved so devotedly j and the struggle that must have preceded his pardon of an offence which even merciful men have thought unpardonable. Always delicate, and subject to low fever and attacks of extreme languor and debility, there is no doubt that his untiring zeal and resolute mental industry (in spite of bodily weakness) PAUL POTTER. 271 accelerated his death, which took place, in 1654, at Amsterdam, when he was ouly tv^enty-niue. He left behind him the Adrienne ho had loved, " not wisely, but too well," and a little daughter, three years of age. ADRIAN BRAUWER. EAUWEK'S birth-place, like that of Homer, has been a subject of some con- troversy. The Flemings, eager to appropriate a painter whose fame sheds lustre on the nation to which he belongs, declare, on the testimony of Corneille de Bie, that he first drew breath at Oudenarde, while Houbraken, who is a more credible witness, states, on the authority of a letter from Nicholas Six, the Dutch burgomaster, that Brauwer was born at Hariem. But whatever may have been his birth-place, it is quite clear that he was of obscure origin, and that the poverty of his parents prevented their culti- vating the genius of their son, which owed its development to accident. His mother, who was mantua-maker and milliner to the peasant girls in the neigh- bourhood, was indebted to young Brauwer for the flower designs, birds, and little fancy- work patterns with which she adorned the caps and collars of her fair customers. One day, while the young artist was tracing the outline of these designs upon paper with a pen, Frank Hals, an artist of some note, happened to pass by, and, being struck with the precocious talent displayed by the young urchin's designs, asked him if he would like to become a painter. "Yes," said the boy, "if my mother has no objection." The mother, however, before she gave her consent to her son's becoming an apprentice of Frank Hals, exacted an under- taking that the painter would support him until he was in a condition to provide for himself; "for," said she, " while the grass grows the horse starves." In the atelier of Frank Hals Adrian Brauwer made such rapid progress, that he would soon have relieved his master of the expense of maintaining him, if he had been permitted to work for himself Frank Hals, however, perceiving in his pupil a boldness and originality of style which would eventually render his productions popular, determined, if possible, to monopolise the profits of them. He therefore separated the young Brauwer from the rest of his pupils, and sent him to paint by himself in a distant and solitary garret. There he kept him at work from morning till night, sup- plying him only with just food enough to keep body and soul together. The curiosity of the other apprentices was aroused by the sudden disappearance of their fellow- student, and they accordingly watched the moment when their master was from home to search for the young prisoner. They each, in turn, visited the garret, and, through a chink in the wall, they saw Brauwer at work upon some very pretty designs. One of them asked him to paint " The Five Senses," at twopence a piece ; and Brauwer treated this hackneyed subject with wonderful originality and sim- plicity. Another of the apprentices gave him an order for " The Twelve Months of the Year," at the same price of twopence a piece, but with a promise of higher remuneration, if, instead of a mere sketch of the subject, the painter would fill up with care his spirited outline. The little sums which Brauwer was thus enabled to earn during the hours which, without being detected by his avaricious master, he could devote to his own business, rendered him partly independent of his tyrant. But Hals, and his wife, who was even more greedy of gain than her husband, soon per- ceived that there was a screw loose somewhere ; and, to stimulate the languishing industry of tlieir prisoner, diminished the daily supplies. This severity, however, had a very different eftect upon Brauwer to what his cruel taskmasters had intended, and made him contrive the means of releasinc: himself from durance and destitution. " He managed," says his biographer Descamps, " to escape from the dwelling of Frank Hals, and traversed tlic whole town without the least idea wliere he was JOHN CASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. ADEIAN BRAUWER. FROM A PAINTING BY VAM)YCK going, or what would become of him. He jmrchased of a baker a large piece of gingerbread, and, without any other food, passed the day under the shelter of the organ of the parish church. He was there recognised by a customeir of his master's, who soon guessed, from his appearance and manner, what had befallen him. He inquired of Brauwer why he had left Frank Hals' atelier, and the young artist give him the reason and the particulars of his escape. He brought forward innumerable proofs of the griping avarice and detestable tyranny of Frank Hals and his wife, who, not satisfied with the very large profits they derived from his pro- fessional exertions, left him to die of cold and starva- tion. Brauwer s pale face and ragged raiment con- firmed the truth of his story ; and so interested was his hearer in his fate, that he exacted from Hals, to whose custody he restored the runaway apprentice, a promise of better treatment for the future. Through the good offices of this chance friend Brauwer succeeded in obtaining more indulgence from his odious master. He was allowed enough to eat, and was rigged out in some second-hand finery purchased JOHN CASSELL'S AET TEEASURES EXHIBITION. 273 THE FIDDLER. FROM A PAINTING BY ADRIAN BRAUWER. from an old clotlics man. Delighted witli the turn Ins affairs Imd taken, tlie young artist set to work with renewed vigour, and produced several original pictures, which Hals disposed of for large sums, statini^ that they were the work of a great foreign master. Their real merit was enhanced m the eves of the pubUc by the mystery in which their pedigree was involved, and then- value m the market rose accordingly. In the meantime Brauwcr, proud of his fmery, and more vigorous m mmd and body 274 JOHN OASSELL'S ART TREASURES EXHIBITION. throTigli the improvement in liis diet, gave full scope to a genius wliicli was beginning to make a noise in the world, and of the existence of which he was the only one in the house who was ignorant. Among liis fellow students was one Ackian Yan Ostade, who was already paving his way to immor- tality, and whose kindred genius early appreciated in the productions of Adrian Brauwer originality of conception, fineness of touch, and harmony of the different parts. Disgusted with the manner in which Hals treated his pupil, Yan Ostade, after upbraiding Brauwer with his folly in not enfranchising himself from such bondage, and in not turning to his own advantage talents that would secure not com- petence alone, but even fame, advised him to escape from Harlem, and set up at Amsterdam, where, as Yan Ostade knew, upon good authority, his pictures were ah-eady selling at high prices. Like all who have no decided character of their own, Brauwer was easily persuaded by those who had. He, therefore, follov/'ed Yan Ostade's advice, again escaped from the durance of Frank Hals's establishment, and set out for Amsterdam, where he had neither relations, friends, introductions, nor recommendations. At Amsterdam he put up at the sign of DEcu de France, kept by Yan Sommeren, who had himself in his youth followed the profession of an artist, and whose son, Henry Yan Sommeren, was a painter of landscapes and flowers of considerable repute. The friendless wanderer was welcomed by the Yan Sommerens, father and son. Finding in their wayfaring house a better supplied larder than he had seen in his master's establishment, he took heart, and, obeying the inspiration of the moment, improvised on canvas some little conversational pieces, which astonished his hosts, who, in token of their approbation, presented liim with a fine sheet of copper, oil which he might display all the resources of his genius. Upon this sheet Brauwer described at once a drunken brawl in a tavern between soldiers and peasants. The scene was painted to the life, "tables overturned ; cards scattered around j gamblers hurling pewter pots at each others' heads, amongst whom one, severely wounded and furious with rage on the floor, is represented as half drunk and half dead. This piece was full of spirit, vigour, and tone, and from its peculiar style was soon recognised as the work of that fictitious foreigner whose productions Frank Hals had sold so dear. M. Du Yermandois, a celebrated con- noisseur, saw the piece, and was most curious to know the author. So curious, indeed, that for this purpose, without attempting to cheapen it, he gave at once two hundred ducats for the painting. Brauwer, when he saw the money, could scarcely believe his eyes. He who had begun with paintings at twopence a-piece, was literally bewildered when he beheld two hundred ducats, all his own, and (what was a still more intoxicating reflection) the first produce of a mine which, as it existed in himself, he could work to 8.ny extent he pleased without having to account to any one. We are informed that in his ecstasy he spread the money on his bed, and literally rolled himself in his riches. "We see, hoAvever, in his case a sad corroboration of the wisdom of the old saying, "Light come, light go." "Without any knowledge of the value of money, without guidance, and without exjDerience, with a notion that gold was only of use as a means of enjoyment, Brauwer gave himself up to the impulses of liis pleasure-loving disposition ; and when, after an absence of nine days from Yan Sommeren's tavern, he was asked on his return what had become of his money, " Heaven be praised," said he, " I have got rid of it." Drunkenness and debauchery were, in Brauwer' s opinion, the height of enjoyment. The privations he had endured in Frank Hals's establishment, combined with the impulses of a naturally jovial dispo- sition, made his present liberty and comparative wealth doubly dangerous to him. So sudden a change overpowered liis weak mind. The debasing pursuit of sensual gratification, and not the ennobling triumphs of art, occupied his thoughts, and he therefore looked upon painting not as an end but as a means. Often was he compelled, when pressed by a landlady who refused to wait for her money, to pledge his most valuable productions for what he could get at the moment. But so impatient of con- tradiction was he, and so self-willed, that when picture fanciers declined to i)urchase at the price he demanded, he would often throw the result of a week's labour into the fire, and paint mtli more care a piece that should produce the sum he exacted. There is no species of practical joke, the perpetration of which has not been attributed to Adrian Brauwer by his Dutch and Flemish biographers. Even the childish prank of jDassiiig his head through windows supplied with oiled paper instead of glass (such as were then in use amonn^ the poorest weavers), and asking " What's the time of day 1 " (of course, without waiting for a reply from the wondering inmates), is laid to Brauwer' s charge. ADRIAN BRAUWER, 275 Corneille de Bie telly us tliat on one occasion, Adrian Brauwer, having been robbed of his clothes by some pirates on the Dutck coast, contrived to make himself, then and there, a suit of sail-cloth, and painted thereon flowers and foliage admirably, and closely imitative of those in some Indian manufactures. Having given great brilliancy to this contrivance, by the aid of varnisli or gum, lie strutted about the town, and attracted the attention of many ladies who, of course, eagerly inquired oi what stuff his dress was made, and where the material was to be purchased. Brauwer, after mystif)dng all the people he met iibout this new, singular, and brilliant fabric, repaired at night to the theatre, and contrived, after the performance, to slip on the stage. Then, holding a wet sponge in his hand, he turned himself round and round several times — strutted up and down — entreated the ladies to examine this material, of which he was the sole manufacturer, and of which the only specimen was on his back. Then, to the great amazement of the pit, he, with the wet sponge, wiped off all the exquisite painting and patterns, leaving the sail-cloth beneath as emblematic of human life, which was, he told them, as worthless as the wretched coat which had appeared to them at first so beautiful and so costly. Another philosophical joke (similar in sentiment, and stupid enough in itself) he produced on another occasion. Argenville tells us that some of his relations invited him to a wedding because he had a new velvet coat. Brauwer, selecting among the dishes those with the richest gravy, smeared his coat all over with the fat, remarking that " the velvet ought to share in the feast, since it was the velvet that had been invited." He then threw his coat into the fij;e, and hastened back to the alehouse and to his old rags. James Houbraken, who engraved in. such admirable style the portraits which illustrate his father's " Lives of the Painters," placed a monkey by the side of Brauwer's Kkeness. He meant this device as an emblem of that buffoonery which, so far from wearing off as Brauwer advanced in years, only grew daily more gross and unseemly. And, indeed, what in the child were called plaj^-ful pranks, vfere in the man gross practical jokes Avhich smelt of the Ioav haunts of the buffoon that indulged in them. Happily for Brauwer it is not by buffoonery alone he is known to posterity. No ! he has imm^ortalised his name by masterpieces of expression, of colouring, and of handling ; and by the che/s- d'ceuvre the graver of " Yisscher " has miiltiplied. The rarity of the originals adds to their value in the eyes of connoisseurs ; and thus the very indolence of this toper, in a manner, enliances his value and his fame. But, in justice to this singular be|ng, we must say that in his peculiar style he is unapproached and unapproachable. What fire — what action — what quickness of perception — wha,t powers of observa- tion ! Where shall we find such broad grins and such jolly red noses, such roystering ragged black- guards, and such characteristic attitudes of drunkenness in all its stages, except where a genius like Brauwer's delighted to copy such scenes from life, and wa.s intimate with his models, because he was not there as a fine gentleman painter, before whom they would naturally restrain themselves, but as a boon companion, who saw them as they were 1 *