IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 !^v&m itt I8ii ■2.2 Hf 114 ■■ !lf 112 12.0 I.I WMU lift ^ FhologFaphic JSdmoss Carparation ^ 4^^ ^"A \s aa wMT iMiN STtm wncfiR.N.v. 14Me (7i«)in-4iM rintMiiii ■iiiiliiiHl CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Inatituta for Hiatorical Microraproductiona / Inatitut Canadian da microraproductiona hiatoriquaa ^ tmrn Tachnical and Bibliographic Notaa/Notas tachniquaa at Mbiioflrapltiquaa Tl to Tha inatituta haa attamptad to obtain tha baat original copy availabia for filming. Faaturaa of thia copy which may ba bibiiographically uniqua, which may altar any of tha imagaa in tha raproduction, or which may aignificantly changa tha uaual mathod of filming, ara chacliad balow. D D D D Colourad covara/ Couvartura da coulaur I I Covara damagad/ Couvartura andommagte Covara raatorad and/or laminatad/ Couvartura raataurte at/ou paliicuMa Covar titia miaaing/ La titra da couvartura manqua Colourad mapa/ Cartaa gteg»aphiquaa an coulaur Colourad ink (i.a. othar than biua or black)/ Encra da coulaur (i.a. autra qua biaua ou noira) Colourad plataa and/or iiluatrationa/ Planchaa at/ou iiluatrationa an coulaur D Bound ¥vith othar matarial/ Rali4 avac d'autraa documanta Tight binding may cauaa ahadowa or diatortlon along intarior margin/ Lar« iiura aarria paut eauaar da i'ombra ou da la diatortlon la long da la marga intiriaura Blank iaavaa addad during raatoratlon may appaar within tha taxt. Whanavar poaaibia, thaaa hava baan omittad from filming/ II aa paut qua cartalnaa pagaa blanohaa ajoutiaa lora d'una raatauration apparaiaaant dana ia taxta, maia, ioraqua cala 4tait poaaibia, caa pagaa n'ont paa 4t« filmiaa. Additional commanta:/ Commantalraa auppMmantairaa: L'Inatitut a microfilm* la malllaur axamplaira qu'il lui a 4tA poaaibia da aa procurer. Laa ditaila da cat axamplaira qui aont paut-Atra uniquaa du point da vua bibliographiqua, qui pauvant modif lar una imaga raproduita, ou qui pauvant axigar una modification dana la mithoda normala da filmaga aont indiquto cl-daaaoua. I — I Colourad pagaa/ Pagaa da coulaur Pagaa damagad/ . Pagaa andommagtea Pagaa raatorad and/oi Pagaa raatauriaa at/ou liallicuMaa Pagaa diacolourad, atainad or fox«M Pagaa dicoiorAaa, tachatiaa ou piquAaa Pagaa datschad/ Pagaa d^tachiaa Showthrough> Tranaparanca Quality of prin Qualit* in4gala da I'impraaaion Includaa aupplamantary matarii Comprand du matirial auppMmantaira Only adition availabia/ Saula MMon diaponlbia I — I Pagaa damagad/ I — I Pagaa raatorad and/or laminatad/ Pagaa diacolourad, atainad or ioxnC/ Pagaa r^ Pagaa datschad/ ry\ Showthrough/ rn Quality of print variaa/ I I Includaa aupplamantary matarial/ I — I Only adition availabia/ Tl P< o1 fil O b4 til all ot fil ail 01 Tl Tl M di ar b« rtj ra m Pagaa wholly or partially obacurad by arrata alipa, tlaauaa, ate., hava baan rafllmad to anaura tha baat poaaibia imaga/ Laa pagaa totalamant ou partiallamant obaourciaa par un fauiHat d'arrata, una palura, ate., ont 4ti flimAaa i nouvaau da fa^on A obtanir la maillaura imaga poaalUa. Thia itam ia fllmad at tha reduction ratio chackad balow/ Ca document eat filmA au taux da rMuotlon indiquA ci'de aa eua. 10X 14X ItX 22X 2IX aox y 12X ItX aox 2«X TIm copy fllniMl hmr* hat bMn raproducMl thanks to th« 9«n«rosity off: DouglM Library Quaan's Univarsity L'axamplaira ffllmA ffut raproduit grica k la gtaArosltA da: Douglas Library Quaan's Univarsity Tha inragaa appaaring hara ara tha baat qaiality poaslbia conaMarlng tha condition and l^lblUty off tha original copy and In kaaping with tha ffllming contract spadfflcations. Original copiaa in printad papar eovara ara ffllmad baglnning with tha ffront covar and anding on tha last paga with a printad or llluatratad Impraa- slon, or tha back covar whan appropriata. All othar original copiaa ara ffllmad baglnning on tha ffirat paga with a printad or llluatratad impraa- sion, and onding on tha laat paga with a printad or llluatratad impraaaion. Tha iaat racordad fframa on aach microficha shall contain tha symbol — »• (moaning "CON- TINUED"), or tha symbol V (moaning "END"), whichavar applias. Las imagas suhrantas ont 4t* raproduitas avac ia plus grand soin, compta tanu da la condition at da la nattat« da l'axamplaira ffiim*, at an confformitA avac las condltians du contrat da ffilmaga. Laa axamphiiras originaux dont ia couvartura an papiar aat ImprimAa sont fflimto an commanpant par la pramlar plat at an tarminant soit par la damlAra paga qui comporta una amprainta d'impraaaion ou d'illustration, soit par la sacond plat, salon la caa. Tous las autras axampiairas originaux sont ffilmte an commandant par la pramlAra paga qui comporta una amprainta d'impraaaion ou d'illustratlon at an tarminant par la darnlAra paga qui comporta una talla amprainta. Un das symboias suh/ants apparattra sur la darnMra Imaga da chaqua microficha, salon la cas: la symbols -^ signifia "A SUIVRE", la symbols ▼ signiffia "FIN". Maps, platas, charta, ate., may ba ffllmad at difffarant raductlon ratloa. Thosa too larga to ba antiraly includad in ona axpoaura ara ffllmad baglnning in tha uppar lafft hand comar, lafft to right and top to bottom, aa many fframas aa raquirad. This ffollowing diagrams illuatrata tha mathod^ Las cartaa, pianchas, tabiaaux, ate, pauvant Atra ffllmte A das taux da reduction diffffArants. Lorsqua la documant aat trap grand pour Atra raproduit an un saul cllchA, II ast ffiimA A partir da i'angia supAriaui gaucha, da gaucha A droita, at da liaut an baa, 1% pranant la nombra d'imagas nAcassaira. Laa diagrammas suivants illustrant la mAthoda. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 ith-i'l ■Bm)!».u < N^ I ■^-^■fF mmmmmm \i I THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. I ,u.H ,TO,^„^.,jt, y^, II. I, I II, iM^^rwH^iipqpMiqpi^iiHiMHMpiiNnRPHiniiipHiii 'mmmr \ \ \ THE TABLE BOOK OF ART HISTORY OF ART IN ALL COUNTRIES AND AGES HY P. T. SANDHURST, Ph.D. ^Iiif/ior (/".•/ History oj Italian .lit," " '/'/),■ Art of tin- t'ciitfiiiiial Ex/ii/iitioii.' .\/ainlies/er Art E.\liil>ilioii," &'i., &'i . SlirHKHLY ILLUSTRATHU BY THE FINEST ENGRAVINGS ON STEEL AND WOOD " Tlie Trra.uirrs of the " Art is long, and Life is fleeting. " TORONTO: GEORGE VIRTUE, IMPORTER ■ 2 ADELAIDE STREKT, EAST. All KidiTs Rrsrkvbd. I'""". "'•''^^^WPIfWPMPPPMMIHiillP / THK TABLE BOOK OF ART HISTORY OF ART IN ALL COUNTRIES AND AGES BY P. T. SANDHURST, Ph.D. fUilhor of ' A His'ory ,y lt,iii,iii ./,,■, •• /'/;,■ ./;•/ ,///;,• (Viiti'iiiihil Uxhi/titioii: Miiiiilh^tcr Art /v\hi/>ilioii," liVc., (J-c ■■ The Trvnsiitrs ,'f tl„ SlIPHRBLY^ ILI.USTRAIKU BY THE FINEST ENGRAVINGS ON STEEL AND WOOD " Art is long, ami Life is fleeting. " TORONTO: GEORGE VIRTUE, IMPORTER 12 AUEI,A!DK STRKKT, KAST. All Rights Krsrrvkii. ' M'iwuii^. 'mmif^im'mmmiimmmmmm^im/tm''m'mmmmmmmmttt ?D INTRODUCTION. |HAT is Art? We owe, what we consider the best defini- tion, to one who never meddled with paints, or marble, yet who helped on the cause of art in his day with an energy of practice and a blaze of enthusiasm which has rarely been equalled before or since. This was Benvenuto Celhni, the immortal jeweller of the sixteenth century, and he says in effect that the aim of art is "to produce a representation of a beautiful human figure, with correctness of design and in a graceful attitude." If we approve this definition, and keep it in mind, it will greatly simplify our estimate of the men and works we shall have to discuss in the present work— The History of Art. But, "What is the history of painting to me?" maybe the remark of a worthy citizen whose eye lights on the tide-page of our history: "I leave all that to artists, to picture-dealers and their customers, and perhaps to a few young ladies who are learning to sketch." Softly, my good sir; with your leave, it may be possible to show that a great many more people than you think for are gifted by nature with a capacity for deriving enjoyment from Art; and that their indifference, it maybe, to it is due quite as much to want of op-^ortunity, as to inaptitude. Who can have failed to notice the intense delight children take in harmoni- ous combinations of colors? How catchiig is a broad grin reflected from a Teniers, or a Van der Meer, to the eye of a holiday gazer I Part of this natural accessibility to Art-influence is the undefined but often acute pleasure felt by very simple people in contemplating a beautiful landscape, or a beautiful face; the feeling after something 44421 VI INTR OD UCTION. better, brighter, lovelier than their earthly surroundings; something of what the poet describes as — " The desire of the moth for the star. Of the night for the morrow, ^ The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow." •l It is not altogether impossible that our worthy citizen himself may have undergone something of this kind, long ago perhaps, when he was younger, less prosperous, and less careworn. There is no doubt that the mind is more open to such impressions in the days of sweet youth; unless, indeed, they take such lasting root there, as to preserve the mind in perpetual youth, amidst the decay and death of nature. It is not only as a source of intellectual pleasure that painting has a high value ; it is as a means of quickening the intelligence, of stimu- lating the imagination ; in a word, of cultivating the mind. Education is often regarded as equivalent to the acquisition ol" knowledge ; a far more important part of true education is awaking the mind to activity, is rousing it to think. What, on a large scale, the recover)' of Greek and Roman literature effected for European forethought centuries ago, Art is capable of doing for each separate mind. It awakes the dor- mant faculties ; it is the wine of life, vivifying, lightening, and strengthen- ing. If so (and it would be difficult to disprove the exalted office here assigned to it), any contribution to a better knowledge of it, has a strong claim to be welcomed by everyone. In the present instance, a complete histoi"y of the rise and progress of Painting is offered to the reader, or the Art-student ; the plan adopted has been to follow the order of dates, as nearly as possible ; and, wliilc tracing the life-story of sue- ^ cessive painters, to give such a description of their principal works, and of their style, as may assist the reader to form his own opinion, when he has an opportunity of examining some of the great pictures of the great masters. TABLE OF CONTENTS INTRODUCTION page. ' V LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ' IX CHAPTER I. CLASSIC GREEK ART I GRECO-ROMAN SCHOOL n CHAPTER II. PAINTING IN THE MIDDLE AGES 14 CHAPTER III. EARLY ITALIAN ART 23 CHAPTER IV. EARLY FLEMISH ART * 31 CHAPTER V. EARLY SCHOOLS OF ITALIAN ART 34 CHAPTER VI. LIONARDO DA VINCI-MICHAEL ANGELO-RAPHAEL-TITIAN . 44 CHAPTER VII. GERMAN ART.— ALBRECHT DURER 60 CHAPTER VIII. LATER ITALIAN ART . . 6a CHAPTER IX. CARRACCI-GUIDO RENI-DOMENICHINO-SALVATOR ROSA 07 CHAPTER X. RUBENS-REMBRANDT-TENIERS. (Father and Son). Etc 7S Vii I ii viu TABLE OF CONTENTS. CHAPTER XI. PAGE. SPANISH ART,— VELASQUEZ, MURILLO, Etc 88 CHAPTER XII. FRENCH ART.— NICOLAS POUSSIN— CLAUDE LORRAINE, Etc 102 CHAPTER XIII. THE FOREIGN SCHOOL OF ENGLAND.— HOLBEIN, VAN DYCK, Etc 109 SECOND PART.— MODERN PAINTERS. CHAPTER I. ENGLISH ART.— THORNHILL— HOGARTH— REYNOLDS, ETC 123 CHAPTER II. TURNER— WILKIE—HAVDON-ETTV— CONSTABLE, Etc 143 CHAPTER III. FRENCH ART.— VIEN—DAVID-ISABEY— INGRES, Etc 154 CHAPTER IV. MODERN GERMAN ART.— OVERBECK, CORNELIUS, Etc. 165 CHAPTER V. MULREADY—DYCE—MACLISE— PHILLIP— LANDSEER, Etc. 170 CHAPTER VI. THE AMERICAN SCHOOL.— WEST— COPLEY— STUART, ETC. 191 CHAPTER VII. CONCLUSION.— CONTEMPORARY ART IN EUROPE 212 DESCRIPTION OF THE STEEL AND WOOD ENGRAVINGS. 27 INDEX 242 1 ■*. ENGRAVINGS ON STEEL ARTIST. SUBJECT. PACE. 1. Allom, Thomas . Constantinople 198 2. BELLANGfe, J. L. H The Old Soldier and Family 190 3. Berghem, Nicholas The Wayside Fountain 22 4. Burnet, John The Dancing Dolls 102 5. Callcott, Sir Augustus Crossing the Stream 142 6. Collins, William The Old Farm Gate 134 7. Compte-Calix, F. C Youth and Age 214 8. Delaroche, Paul The Young Princes in the Tower 70 9. Frith, W. P The Beau' s Stratagem 126 10. Gainsborough, Thomas The Village Beau 54 11. Hart, James A Watering Place 158 12. Ingres, Jean A. D The Slave and her Slave 118 13. Landseer, Sir Edwin Caught 182 14. Leslie, Charles R Taming of the Shrew 62 15. Lewis, E. D Scene on the Schuylkill 230 16. Mount, W. S Noon-day Rest 86 17. Nicol, Erskine . . Kept In 166 18. Raphael The Cartoons 6 19. Reynolds, Sir Joshua The Coquette 46 20. RiCHTER, H The Tight Shoe 230 21. Rothermel, P. T January and May 206 22. Scheussele, Christen Daniel Webster at Shakespeare' s Tomb . . . 94 23. Schopin, Henri Frederick . . . , Paul and Virginia 222 24. Sully, Thomas Bedfellows no 25. Tayler, Frederick The Young Chief s First Ride 174 a6. Terburg, G Refreshment 14 27. Tschaggeny, C The Cow Doctor 150 28. Trumbull, John 77/.? Declaration of Independence 38 29. West, Benjamin Christ Healing the Sick 30 30. White, J. B General Marion and the British Officer . . 78 31. WiLKiE, Sir David The Blind Fiddler Frontispiece ix ENGRAVINGS ON WOOD. ARTIST. SUBJECT. 32. Angelo, Michael The Cumean Sil>yl 33. BouGHTON, G. H The Return 0/ the Mayflower 34. Breton, Jules The Eve 0/ St. John' s Day 35. Burr, John The Peddler. 36. Cabanel, Alex The Annunciation 37. Caravaggio, M. a Tiie Card-players 38. Chalon, a. B Hunt the Slipper 39. Constable, John The Wheatfield. 40. David, J. L The Death of Socrates 41. DoRfe, GusTAVE Alexander Weeping over the Dying Darius . 42. DiJRER, Albert Samson and the Lion 43. Faed, Thomas Jeanie Deans and the Duke of Argyle . . . 44. FoRTUNY, Mariano Prayer in an Arab Mosque 45. Foster, BiRKET A Pace up the Hill 46. GtR6ME, J. L liegging Monk at the Door of a Mosque . . 47. Haydon, Benjamin Quintus Curtius 48. Hermann, Leo A Pause in the Argiment 49. Hogarth, William Marriage a la Mode 50. K.'emmerer, M At the Seaslwre 51. Linnell, John Sunshine 52. Lewis, J. F The Arab Scribe 53. Leys, Henri (Baron) Luther Singing in the Streets ,f Eisenach. . 54. Meissonier, J. L. E The Flute-player 55- Rembrandt Adolphus de Guildre Threatening his Father. 56. Roberts, David Interior tf the Greek Church, Constantinople. 57. Rosenthal, Toby Elaine 58. Rubens The Descent from the Cross 59- Titian Titian's Daughter 60. Stammel, E The Connoisseur 61. Scheffer, Ary The Temptation on the Mount. 62. Schreyer, A Horses alarmed by Wolves 63. Turner, J. M. W The Wreck of the Minotaur PAGE. 2 202 186 122 21S 42 90 66 130 226 18 82 146 114 170 58 2J4 5° 234 106 162 234 34 98 26 10 194 138 210 74 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. CHAPTER I. CLASSIC GREEK SCHOOL. [ANY writers," says Vasari, " have asserted that Tainting and Sculpture originated with the Egyptians ; others attribute to the Chaldeans the disco\ery of the bas-relief, and give to the Greeks the invention of paintii.g : for my own part, I hold that a knowledge of Drawing, the creative principle of all art, has existed since the beginning of the world." From remains that are left to the present day, we know that the people of Egypt, Phoenicia, and Assyria, of Persia, India, and China, were all acquainted with the art of painting, but it was always symbolical and as an accessory to Architecture. We find fresco paintings as decorations of walls and pillars, manuscripts on papyrus orna- mented with coloured figures, and mummy cases covered with hieroglyphics ; but no movable Pictures, in our present acceptation of that term, have come down to us, nor have any been mentioned by the early historians of those Eastern nations. It is not till the fifth century before Christ that we have any record of Painting as a fine art by itself, and then it must have quickly reached to the highest eminence. It is to Athens that we must give the glory of its birth-place, though, by a fatality ever to be deplored, no work of the famous Greek painters remains to the present day. In spite of the ravages made by time and many generations of barbarians, Archi- tecture and Sculpture have left monuments numerous and magnificent enough to enable us to judge of the state of both these arts in Greece. The master-pieces of two thousand years ago continue to excite at once the delight and despair of the student. We can still see the ruins of the Parthenon and the temple of Theseus at Athens, and of the temple of Neptune at Piestum. The museums of Italy are full of beautiful relics of Greek .statuary. At Paris are the Venus of Mdos, Diana the Huntress, the Gladiator, the Achilles. Munich possesses the marbles of ^Egina, and London the fragments of Pheidias from the Parthenon. But Painting, using more fragile materials, has not been able to survive the tempests which entirely engulfed ancient civilization, and threw back the human mind, like another Si.syphus, from the heights it had attained, to the humble commencement of a new road, which it lias J 1! THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. [b. c. 490. had to re- mount by a long and painful way. The style of painting adopted by the ancients is, strictly speaking, almost unknown to us, but we can arrive at some esti- mate of its merits by evident analogies and indications. And firstly, Painting occupied, in the esteem of the people of antiquity, the same place that it now holds, relatively to other arts, in public opinion; and the names of Apelles, Zeu.xis, Parrhasius, Polygnotus, Aristides, Pamphilus, Timanthes, Nicomachus, are no less great, no less illustrious as painters than those of Pheidias, Alcamenes, Polycletus, Praxiteles, Myron, Lysippus, as sculptors, or than those of Hippodamus, Ictinus, and Callicrates, as architects. This high esteem in which the ancient painters were held by their contempo- raries is shown again clearly in the value which their works commanded. If it be true that a marble statue, made by an inferior artist, was currently worth |>2,500 of our money in that Rome where statues, as Pliny says, were more numerous than the inhabitants, where Nero brought five hundred, in bronze, from thj temple of Delphi alone, and from the soil of which had been dug — in the time of the Abbe Barthelemy — more than seventy thousand ; if it be true that for the Diadu- menos, Polycletus was paid a hundred talents (;$ 108,000), and that Attains in vain offered the inhabitants of Cnidus to pay all their debts in exchange for the Vcnvs of Praxiteles, — the other productions of high art, of which Athens acquired a monopoly, must have risen to a value which in our days can scarcely be believed. According to the uniform testimony of Plutarch and Pliny, who would have been contradicted if they had asserted falsehoods or exaggerations, Nicias refused for one of his pictures sixty talents ($65,000), and made a present of it to the town of Athens ; Caesar paid eighty talents (586,500) for the two pictures by Timoma- chus, which he placed at the entrance to the temple of Venus Genetri.x ; a picture by Aristides, which was called the Beautiful Bacchus, was sold for one hundred talents (;^ 108,000); and when the town of Sicyon was laden with debts which its revenues were not sufficient to pay, the pictures which belonged to the public were sold, and the produce of these works sufficed to discharge the amount. Enough has been said to show that the painting of the ancients was held by them in equal esteem with their sculpture and their architecture; it follows that the excellence of the remains of the two latter arts proves, at the same time, the excellence of the former. Certainly, if in future ages our civilization were to perish under fresh invasions of barbarians, and that, to make it known to a new generation born in after ages, thf^re only remained parts of St. Peter's at Rome and of the Venetian palaces, with some of the statues which adorn them — would not the men of those future times — seeing in what esteem we hold Leonardo, Raphael and Titian, Rubens, Velazquez and Rembrandt — think that the lost works of these painters must have been equal to the works still preserved of Bramante and Michael Angelo, Palladio and Sansovino? But there also remain to us some descriptions of pictures in default of the pictures themselves ; and, yet more than this, some fragments of ancient paintings have been found, which confirm this reasoning, and leave no doubt as to the excellence of the art which these precious remains represent. Passing over the THE CUM^AN SIBYL. {From the original painting by Michael Angelo.) if • V B. C. 490.] CLASSIC GREEK SCHOOL. detailed eulogies of Cicero and Quintilian, we have the descriptions which I'aiisanias gives of the paintings in the Pctcile at Athens, and of the Leschc of the Cnidians at Delphi ; those which Pliny gives of the pictures of Venus and of Calumny, by Apelles, and of Pcnchpc, by Zeuxis, and that which Lucian gives of Helen the Courtesan, also by Zeuxis. The painted vases, both of Etruscan and of (ircek manufacture, must be included among the actual remains of ancient i)ictorial art. Such again are the arabesques in the baths of Titus, discovered • uler the church of San Pietro in Vincula, at the time of the excavations ordered by Leo X. ; the frescoes found in the sepulchre of the Nasos ; those in the pagan catacombs ; and more re- cently the frescoes of Hcrculaneum and Pompeii, which, although merely tiecorations of ordinary citizens' houses in little towns, fifty leagues from Rome, are of great im- portance. There are also monochrome designs on marble and stone, for example, Theseus killing the Centaur and the Indies playing at the game of talus (huckle-bones), wonderful compositions, traced on marble with a red pigment, which Pliny calls cin- nabaris indica, both in the museum at Naples. Examples of Greek and Greco-Roman mosaics also remain ; amongst others the beautiful mosaic found at Pompeii in the " House of the Faun," so called because it had already yielded the charming little Dancing Faun, the pride of the cabinet of bronzes: both are in the same museum at Naples. This mosaic, the most important vestige of the painting of the ancients which has come down to us, cannot be other- wise than the copy of a picture ; probably of one of the Greek pictures brought to Rome after the conquest of Greece, not impossibly of one by Philo.xenus of Eretria, a pupil of Nicomachus, who is, indeed, known to have painted, for King Cassandcr, one of the battles of Alexander against the Persians. The mosaic formed the pave- ment of the triclinium (dining-room). Surrounded by a sort of frame, it contains twenty-five persons and twelve horses, of nearly the size of life, and thus forms a real historical picture. It certainly represents one of the battles of Alexander against the Persians, and probably the victory of Issus, for the recital of Quintus Curtius (lib. iii.) agrees perfectly with the work of the painter. If the original picture, of which this mosaic was a copy, were of Greek origin, the painter and historian must have drawn from the same traditions ; if of Roman origin, the artist must have described on his panel the details given by the historian of Alexander. A study of the various remains to which reference has been made, shows first, that the painters of antiquity knew how to treat all subjects, mythology, history, land- scape, sea-pieces, animals, fruit, flowers, costume, ornament, and even caricature ; and also that, while treating great subjects and embracing vast compositions, they knew how to attain a perfect order, a happy arrangement of groups, various planes, fore- shortenings, chiaroscuro, movement, action, expression by gesture and by countenance, all the qualities in short of high painting, which the people of modern times have usually denied to the ancients. The works of the best known of the Greek painters have been described by Herodotus, Aristotle, Pausanius, Lucian, Plutarch and Pliny; and mentioned by many other classic writers. THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. [u. c. 460. DioNYsius of Colophon, one of the earliest of the Greek painters whose names have been handed down to us, was probably born about u. c. 490; it is Icnown that he lived in the time of Pericles. Aristotle and Plutarch both speak of his works as being forcible and full of spirit. He was probably a good portrait painter {Ai^OptoKo- Yiniifoz), as Aristotle says, " Polygnotus painted men better than they are ; Dionysius as they are." ./Elian (a Roman author of the third century), says that Dionysius and Polygnotus painted similar subjects — Polygnotus in large, and Dionysius in small. Whether the writer referred to the style of the painters or the size of their pictures, it is difificult to determine. Polygnotus, a native of the island of Thaos, was known as a painter in Athens in i(. c. 460. His principal pictures were: In the Lcsche, an open hall at Delphi, The Taking of Troy ; The Return of the Creeks ; and the Ulysses visiting the Shades: — fully described in seven chajjlers by Pausanias. In the porch at Athens, called the Pcecile, in which he painted the Destruetion of Troy. — I'or this work it is said he would not receive payment, and consequently the Public Council gave him a house in Athens, and made him a guest of the state at the public expense. — In the temple of the Dioscuri at Athens, The Marriage of the daughter of Leueippus ; and in the temple of Minerva at Plat.x-a, Ulysses after the slaughter of the suitors of Penelope. It is said that Polygnotus first used the yellow earth found in the silver mines, and a purple colour prepared from the husks of grapes. Aristotle speaks of him as " the painter of noble characters," and Pliny says he was the first who gave expression to the features. It seems probable that the style of painting of the celebrated artists of these days was extremely simple — and very like the 'uest class of decorative art upon the Greek vases in the Louvre and the British !Museum. ! I i I P.AN.F.xus of Athens was the brother of the great sculptor Phcidias; so Pliny tells us. Strabo seems to think he was the nephew. He was one of the earliest of the Greek painters, though younger than Polygno- tus and Micon by some few years. Pana.'nus's most celebrated picture was the Battle of AFaratlum, in the Pcecile at Athens. This picture contains the Iconics, or portraits of celebrated generals (both of the Athenians and the barbarians) ; these could not have been portraits from life, for the picture was not painted till at least thirty years after the battle. Pana;nus painted several pictures on the throne and on the wall round the throne of the Olympian Jupiter. The subjects of some of these were: Atlas supporting Heaven and Earth; Theseus and Hrithous; allegorical figures of Greece and Salaniis; The Combat of Hercules idth the Neuiean Lion ; and several other historical subjects. The Pcecile was built by Cimon n. c. 470, therefore supposing Pan;enus to have painted his great picture ten years after its erection, we may take 11. c. 460 to have been about the most important period of his life. Nothing certain is known either of his birth or death. Parrhasius, born about B. c. 470, was instructed in the art of painting by his father. He was a native of Ephesus, but removed early in life to Athens, where he B.C. 450.] ZEUXIS. became by far the greatc \ artist of his time. He compared the works of Polygnotiis, ApoUodorus, and Zcii.\is, and adopted from eacii that quality wliich he most admired. Tarrhasius was by no means ignorant of tl>e excellence of his own works. He took for himself the title of the Elegant, and called himself the Prince of Painters. Pliny .says, and not without reason, that he was " the most insolent and most arrogant of artists." Parrhasius excelled especially in outline, form, and e.xpression. Among the l)rincipal works of this artist may be mentioned his Allegorical figure of the Alhcnian People; a Theseus (it was probably this picture that gained for him his citizenship at Athens); a Naval commander in his armour; Meleager; Hercules and Perseus; Castor and Pollux; Arcltigallus (bought by the Emperor Tiberius for 60,000 sesterces, $50,000), and many portraits of warriors. Pliny says that in a competition with Timanthcs of Cythnos he painted The Contest of Ajax and Ulysses; and that when the award was given to his rival, he said to his friends, " It is not I who should complain, but the son of Telamon, who has a .second time become a victim to the folly of his judges." Parrhasius became so rich that at last he would not sell his pictures, saying that no price was sufficient for their value. Pliny also tells us that Zeuxis acknowledged his painting of Grapes to be beaten by the Curtain of Parrhasius. It is related by Seneca that he selected a very old man from among the captives th.at Philip of Macedon had brought home from Olynthus, and crucified him, in order to see the true expression of pain, as a model for his Prometheus Chained. This story, even if true, could not refer to this Parrhasius, as he would have been about 1 20 years of age, if living, when Philip took Olynthus. The last record wc have of Parrhasius is about u. c. 400. :11s Zeuxis, one of the most celebrated painters of ancient times, was probably born between B. c. 460 and B. c. 450, in one of the cities named Heraclea ; Pliny fixes the time at n. c. 400, but this is apparently too late a date, for he was at the height of his renown in the reign of Archelaus, which was from b. c. 413 until b.c. 399 (Diodorus Siculus). Lucian terms Zeuxis the greatest painter of his time, but he was unques- tionably surpassed by Parrhasius, who was his contemporary. The excellence of Zeu.xis's painting is noticed by several ancient writers, among whom may be mentioned Aristotle, Quintilian, and Cicero. One of the most celebrated of Zeuxis's pictures is Tlie Family of Centaurs, the original of which was lost at sea. Lucian graphically describes a copy of it which he saw at Athens; but even this picture was surpassed by his celebrated Helen the Courtesan, which he painted for the city of Croton, and which, according to ./Elian, he exhibited at a fixed charge. Other famous works by him are: The Infant Hercules strangling the serpent; Jupiter in the assembly of the Gods ; Penelope breuailing tlu absence of her husband; Menelaus mourning the fate of Agamemnon; an Athlete; under which he wrote, " It is easier to find fault than to imitate;" and a Cupid croivned with roses. It is related of Zeuxis that he wore a mantle with his name woven in gold on the border, .^lian records that on one occasion he reproved Megabyzus, a high-priest of Diana, who while on a visit to the artist's studio, showed such palpable ignorance of any knowledge of art, that the boys whom the artist employed to mix his colours, laughed at him : where- 1 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. [b. c. 450. upon Zcuxis quietly remarked, " While you were silent, these boys admired you for the richness of your dress and the number of your servants ; but now that you disclose your ignorance they cannot refrain from luughter." Plutarch relates this same story of Apelles and Megabyzus, and Pliny of Apelles and Alexander. The story told by Pliny of Zcuxis deceiving the birds with a picture of ripe grapes, at which they came to peck, and of being himself deceived by a painting of a curtain so ably imitated by Parrhasius that Zeuxis asked him to draw it aside, is often quoted. Zcuxis also painted a picture of a Boy with Grapes, which likewise deceived the birds, but the artist was not entirely satisfied with it, for he justly remarked, " Had the boy been painted as well as the grapes the birds would have been afraid to come near them." It is said that Zeuxis amassed such a large fortune by the sale of his pictures that he would not sell any more. He gave his picture of Pan to Archelaus, and his Alcmena to the town of Agrigentum. The place and date of Zcuxis's death are unknown. Sillig remarks — with justice — that he must have died before the io6th Olympiad (u. c. 355), for in that year Isocrates, in his oration, praised Zcuxis, which he would not have done had the painter been then living. MicoN, a contemporary and fellow- worker with Polygnotus, was born about B. c. 450. He excelled in painting horses, which are generally introduced mto his pictures. In the celebrated Colonnades of the Pcecile, Micon painted The Battle of the Amazons, and assisted Panicnus in The Battle of Marathon, in which he painted the Persians larger than the Greeks ; for this, it is said, he was fined half-a-talent (about jjlsoo). He also painted battle-pictures in the temple of Theseus ; and assisted Polygnotus with his work in the temple of the Dioscuri. Micon painted horses with such truth to nature, that the only fault an Athenian art critic named Simon could find with them was that he had given lashes to their under eyelids. Apollodorus, a native of Athens, lived about b. c. 430. It is said that he was the first to introduce light and shade into his pictures ; for this reason he was called the " shadow painter." He must have been surpassed in this branch of painting by Zcuxis, for he complains that the latter had robbed him of his art. The line, " It is easier to find fault than to imitate," which Zeuxis wrote under a picture of an athlete, is attributed by Plutarch to Apollodorus. EuPOMPUs, a native of Sicyon, was more famous as the founder of the school of Sicyon, which Pamphilus, his pupil, afterwards more fully established, than as a painter. One of his principles was, that man should be represented as he ought to appear, not as he really is (Pliny). The period of Eupompus is sufficiently certain from the fact that he taught Pamphilus, who flourished from about u. c. 388 to B. c. 348. TiMANTiiEs of Cythnos lived about n. c. 400. His paintings were especially admired for their expression and reality of representation. Though Tinianthes was undoubtedly one of the greatest painters of his time, only five of his works are mentioned by writers of antiquity. Pliny mentions him with great praise ; he says of his painting, " Though in execution he was always excellent, the execution is (f ,;3f^.Ji OW THE CARTOONS OF W/\FF*£Ut\,SANZ»0 J msm B. C. 400.] NIC IAS, PAMPHILUS, EUPHRANOR. invariably surpassed by the conception." The pictures by this painter of which we read were : a Sleeping Cyclops; The Stoning of Palamedes; The Contest of Ajax and Ulysses (for which picture he was declared victor against Parrhasius in a competition at Samos); The Sacrifice of Iphigenia (with which he defeated in competition Colotes of Teos— an otherwise unknown artist). There is no other painting of ancient times which has been the subject of so much criticism as this, on account of the concealment of the face of Agamemnon. Ancient writers have given it unlimited praise, but modern critics have questioned its excel- lence and called it a trick. The fifth and last work known to us was the picture of a Hero in the Temple of Peace at Rome. NiciAs, a native of Athens, was probably born about b. c. 370, for we hear that Praxiteles employed him to colour his statues about B. c. 350. He refused sixty talents (^65,000) offered him by Ptolemy I. of Egypt, for his famous picture Nixvto. or The Region of the Shades, and gave it to his native town, Athens. Ptolemy as- sumed the title of king in n. c. 306, when Nicias would be about sixty-four years of age, and consequently likely to be rich and have a reputation, and able to refuse the enormous sum offered by the king. Pliny doubts verj' much whether the painter of the Ntxvia and the assistant of Praxiteles can be the same. Pausanias tells us that Nicias was the most excellent animal painter of his time. It is true that he was very studious, even to absent-mindedness, for ^lian tells us that he frequently forgot to take his meals. His picture of Nemea sitting on a lion is one of the most famous of his works. Nicias wrote on this picture that he had painted it in encaustic. Nicias also painted the interiors of tombs, notably that of the high-priest Megabyzus. P.VMPHiLUS, a native of Amphipolis, lived from about B.C. 388 to B.C. 348. He studied under Eupompus of Sicyon, and helped to establish the style of painting which Eupompus had begun, and which was eventually perfected by Euphranor, Apelles, and Protogenes. Pamphilus, Pliny tells us, was himself a man skilled in all sciences : omnibus Uteris crnditus. He occupied himself more with the theory of art and with teaching others, than with actual painting. He founded a school at Sicyon, the admission to which was one talent (|llo8o). Pliny says that Apelles and Melanthius both paid the fee, and studied at this school, and that Pausias received instruction in encaustic painting from Pamphilus. The sons of the Greek nobles attended the school, and Painting at this time occupied the first place among the liberal arts. Slaves were not allowed to use the cestrtnn or graphis. Four pictures only by this artist are recorded : The Heraclidie (mentioned by Aristophanes) ; The Battle of Phliiis ; Ulysses on the raft; and a Family Portrait (Pliny). Euphranor, born in the Isthmus of Corinth, is called by Pliny " the Isthmian." He was contemporary with Apelles, and flourished from about B. c. 360 to B. c. 320. He was celebrated as a sculptor as well as a painter, and the same author tells us that he was " in all things exceller " He was chiefly famous as a portrayer of Gods and Heroes. Like Pausias and Aristides of Thebes, he painted in encaustic. Three of his most celebrated pictures were at Ephesus: A Group of Philosophers in constdtation ; A Portrait of a General; and The feigned madness of Ulysses. But his most celebrated r ^ I 8 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. [b. c. 350. works were, The Twelve Gods, and a Battle of Mantinea, painted in the Keramicus at Athens. Theon, a native of Samos, lived about b. c. 350. He was much admired for the gracefulness of his painting. Pliny mentions two of his works : Orestes in the act of killing his mother; and Thamyris playing the cithara. XXaxi describes A youthful Warrior hastening to meet the foe. Athenion, a pupil of Glaucion of Corinth, and a native of Maronea in Thrace, was probably a contemporary of Nicias, and painted about the year b. c. 330. Among other works, he executed a Portrait of Phylarchus, the historian, and Achilles dis- covered by Ulysses disguised as a girl. Pliny tells us that, had Athenion lived to maturity, no artist would have been worthy to be compared to him. P.\i siAs, a native of Sicyon, was a fellow-student with Apelles and Melanthius in the school of Pamphilus, and consequently we may place his date at about n. c. 350. He was fond of small pictures, but occasionally painted large ones. He was the first to bring the use of encaustic to perfection. Pausias was celebrated for his fore- shortening, especially to be remarked in a picture — The Sacrifice of an Ox — which in the time of Pliny was in the Hall of Pompey. He introduced the decorative ceiling painting, afterwards common, consisting of single figures, flowers, and arabesques (Miiller). A portrait of this maiden, with a garland called the lTS talents ($108,000). This was one of the most famous of all the Greek paintings; the goddess was represented as rising from the sea, wringing from her hair the water which fell in a silver shower around her. A story is related of him which is said to have given rise to the well-known saying, " A shoemaker should not go beyond his last." Apelles exhibited a finished picture, and concealed himself near by in order to hear the criticisms which he rightly imagined would be made upon it. A shoemaker found fault with a defect in a sandal, which Apelles accordingly rectified ; on another occasion the shoemaker, encouraged by the success of his former remark, began to criticise the leg: upon this the artist, coming forth from his hiding-place, angrily told him to keep to his trade. Once, it is said, when Alexander visited Apelles, and re- mained unmoved before an equestrian portrait, his horse neighed at the sight of the charger represented in the painting: "Your horse," said the artist to the king, " knows more about pictures than you do." Apelles wrote a work on painting which has unfortunately been lost He is said to have been the original author of the well- known saying, " Nulla dies sine lined." Aristides, who was a native of Thebes, was born about b. c. 330. He was a brother and pupil of Nicomachus, and contemporary with Apelles. He excelled in painting battle pictures ; one of his most celebrated was The Capture of a City, in which the expression of a dying woman and her infant was much admired : Alexan- der the Great took this picture to Macedonia. Aristides also painted a Battle with MMna lO THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. [B.C. 300. the Persians, in which there were one hundred figures ; this was purchased for a large sum by Mnason of Elatea. Attalus, king of Pcrgamus, bought a picture by Aris- tides, A Sick Man on his f^^d, for 100 talents (about jS 108,000), and Pliny says that Lucius Mummius refused .. e than 200 talents for a Father Bacchus which he cap- tured at the siege of Corinth. Many of the best paintings of Aristides were sent to Rome with the rest of the plunder from the cities of Greece. An unfinished picture of Iris was the most highly valued. AscLEPiODORUS was contemporary with Aristides and Apelles. He painted twelve figures, representing the twelve Gods, and sold them to Mnason the tyrant of Elatea for five talents ($5,400) each. Philoxenus, a native of Eretria, and a pupil of Nicomachus, was renowned for the rapidity of his execution. Nothing is known concerning the dates of his birth or death. He probably painted his famous picture of the Battle of Alexander and Darius, by order of Cassander, king of Macedon, shortly after b. c. 315, in which year Cassander succeeded in driving Poly.sperchon out of Macedon, and certainly not later than b. c. 296, for in that year Cassander died. It is not improbable that the mosaic representing the Battle of Issus, found in the " House of the Faun " at Pompeii in 1831, isa reproduction of this picture, for Darius and Alexander are the most conspicuous figures. Only one other work by Philoxenus is mentioned by Pliny. It is a representation of Three Satyrs Feastins". Pliny also tells us that Philoxenus discovered various methods of facilitating execution in painting. TiMOMACHUS, a native of Byzantium, was imagined by many to have been con- temporary with Julius Ca;sar, from a statement to that effect by Pliny (" Julii Caesaris aetate "). Durand thinks that ata/e is an addition of the copyist. This seems quite within the bounds of possibility, for Pliny himself, speaking of him elsewhere, men- tions him among the ancient and renowned painters of Greece. Timomachus was probably a contemporary of Nicias, and consequently lived about B. c. 300. His most celebrated pictures, AJax brooding over his misfortunes, and Medea meditating the destruction of her children, were bought by Julius Caesar for the enormous sum of eighty Attic talents ($86,500), and placed in the temple of Venus Genetrix. Ovid alludes to them in his " Tristia " : " Utque sedct vultu fassus Telatnonius iram, Inque oculis facinus baibara Mater habet." Pliny says that the picture of Medea was not completed, yet it was more admired than any of the finished works of the same artist. The fact that the picture was left unfinished proves beyond a doubt that Timomachus did not sell it himself to Julius Ca;sar, and therefore was not likely to have been his contemporary. Pliny mentions among other works by this artist an Orestes, Iphigenia in Tauris, and a celebrated picture of a Gorgon. TiMANTHt:.s of Sicyon (?) is only known to us by his picture of the Battle of m TITIAN'S DAUGHTER. {From the orij^nal fainting by Titian.) ir I * « I B.C. 250.] GRECO-ROMAN SCHOOL. II Pellene, in Arcadia, in which Aratus defeated the .i^itolians in 11. c. 240. He was con- temporary with Amtus, who lived from h. c. 271 to i». c. 213. He was probably a native of Sicyon, though nothing certain is known either of the date or place of his birth. Neacles, probably a native of Sicyon, painted about the year 11. c. 250. Pliny, who mentions him with praise, tells us of two pictures by him, a / 'enus, and a Battle between the Persians and the Egyptians on the Nile. In the latter, he introduceil an ass drinking in the stream, and a crocodile, in order that the river might not be mis- taken for the sea. It is also rehited of Neacles that by painting over the figure and introducing a palm-tree in its stead, he managed to save the Portrait of Aristratus by Melanthius and Apelles, from the fury of Aratus. GRECO-ROMAN SCHOOL. From Athens let us now pass to Rome. Ashamed of being in all matters of taste the disciples of the conquered Greeks, the Romans boasted of having a national school of painting, although the ancient religious law of the Latins was, like that of the Hebrews, hostile to images. Their writers pretended that about the year A. u. c. 450, a member of the illustrious family of Fabius, surnamed Pictor, who derived his name from his profession, had executed paintings in the Temple of Health. They cited also, in the following century, a certain dramatic poet, named Pacuvius, a nephew of the old Ennius, who had himself painted the decorations of his theatre ; as did also, a hundred years later, Claudius Pulcher. It is related, besides, that Lu- cius Hostilius exhibited in the Forum, a picture where he had represented himself advancing to the assault of Carthage, which obtained him so much popularity that he was named consul the following year. All this appears as doubtful as the tales of Livy about the foundation of Rome. What is certain is that, when they pene- trated .IS conquerors into Greece, the Romans showed neither taste for, nor know- ledge of, the arts. They began, like true barbarians, by breaking the .statues and tearing the pictures. At last, Metellus and Mummius stopped the stupid fury of the soldiers, and sent pell-mell to Rome whatever they found in the temples of Greece, without, however, having any true idea of the value of these precious spoils. This Lucius Mummius, who placed in the temple of Ceres the celebrated Bacchus of Aristides, was so ignorant, that after the siege of Corinth, he threatened those who conveyed to Rome the pictures and statues taken in that town, that if they lost the pictures, they must replace them ! The Romans, imitating their neighbours the Etruscans, whose industry and arts they borrowed, became great architects, and especially great engineers; they con- .structed roads, highways, bridges, aqueducts, which, surviving their empire, still .. la THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. [b. c. 319. excite our astonishment and admiration. Rut titeir only knowledge of the arts of l>ainting and sculpture was through the works of the Greeks. Still more : at Rome itself there were .scarcely any artists but the Greeks, who had gone, like grammarians and schoolmasters, to practise their profession in the capital of the world. It was a Greek painter, Metrodorus of Athens, who came to Rome to execute for the triumph of Paulus yEmilius the paintings of the Procession of the victorious general. Trans- planted out of their country, reduced to the condition of artisans, the Greek artists had no longer at Rome those original inspirations which independence and dignity alone can give. They formed there a school of imitation, which could not but alter and deteriorate. Architecture, being necessary to the great works commanded by the emperors, was everywhere held in honour: .so also was Sculpture, which provided the new temples with .statues of the deified Ca;sars. But Painting, reduced to deco- rate the interior of hou.ses, became a kind of domestic art, a simple trade. At the same time that the Romans prohibited their slaves from becoming painters, they di.sdained to recognize the art as worthy of being followed by them- selves. It is true that amongst their painters is mentioned a certain Turpilius, belonging to the equestrian order; but he lived at Verona. Quintus Pedius, the son of a consul, is also cited ; but he was dumb from his birth ; and to enable his family to allow him to learn painting as an amusement, the express permission of Augu.stus was required. The painter Amulius, who has left some reputation, worked without taking off the toga [pingebat semper togatus — Pliny), in order not to be confounded with foreigners, and to preserve the dignity of a Roman citizen. The consequent decadence of the art of painting was inevitable. By degrees the Romans came to prefer richness to beauty, the precious metals to simple colotirs. Pompey exhibited his portrait made of pearls ; and Nero proposed to gild the bronze Alexander of Lysippus ; after having caused him.self to be represented in a portrait one hundred and twenty feet high. In short. Painting, losing all nobility and all character, was reduced to the decoration of the interior of liouses, in a style in accordance with such a degraded taste. The most important of the Roman painters of this period that have been men tioned by the classic writers were : — 'if' Fabius Pictor, one of the sons of Marcus Fabius Ambustus the consul, was called Pictor because he painted various oliji^cis in the Temple of the Goddess of Health, in n. c. 304. Pliny and Livy botii -uention these works, which existed until the destruction of the temple in the reign of Claudius. Marcus Pacuvius, a native of Brundusium, was born about n. c. 219. He was a nephew of Ennius the epic poet, and, though renowned as a painter, was more cele- brated for his poems. Pliny mentions paintings by him in the Temple of Hercules at Rome ; he also tells us that Pacuvius was the la.st to paint " Itonestis manibus." He died at Tarentum in the ninetieth year of his age, which, if the date of his birth be correct, would be about B. c. 130. He wrote an epitaph on himself which runs as follows : — B. C. 100.] METRODORUS, DJONYSIUS. »3 •'.Adolesccns, tamenctsi properas, te hoc saxutn rog.it, uti ad se adspicias, dcinde quod scriptuin est, iegas. Hie sunt poauae Pacuvii Marcl sita ossa. Hoc vulebam, ncscius ne esses; vale.'' Metrodoris, a distinguished pamter and philosopher, was born at Athens (?) about B.C. 200. When Paulus itmilius had defeated the Greeks in u.c. l68, he ordered the Athenians to send him their best artist, to perpetuate his triumph, and their most renowned philosopher, to educate his sons. The Athenians paid Metro- dorus the extraordinary honour of declaring that he was both their best artist and their most renowned philosopher; and it is said that iCmilius was quite satisfied. The painting of this Triumph must have been a most stupendous undertaking, for in the procession, which is partly described by Plutarch, there were no less than 250 wagons containing Greek works of art, called by Livy simulacra pugnaritm picta. The spectacle lasted the entire day. Metrodorus, though a Greek, well deserves a mention among the Roman School, as he painted at Rome, and very likely helped to introduce a better style of painting among the Romans. Laia or i^.iLA, of Cvzicus, a female artist, lived about u.c. 100, and was espe- cially renowned for her portrait painting. Claudius Pulcher, lived about n.c. 100, and is said to have painted decorations for theatres. There is little else knov/n of him. LuDius, the painter, lived in the time of Augustus. Pliny tells us he " invented the art of decorations for the walls of apartments, whereon he scattered country houses, porticoes, shrubs, thickets, forests, hills, ponds, rivers, banks— in a word, all that fancy could desire." Paintings of this kind have been discovered at Pompeii and Herculaneum and elsewhere. They are ver>' beautiful, though it must be admitted they are but imitations of the Greek works which had preceded them. DiONVsius of Rome lived about the time of the first Roman Emperors. Pliny tells us that he was a very prolific painter, so much so, in fact, that his pictures filled whole galleries. Pliny also calls him JudimTzorpa^o^, because he painted figure sub- jects only. -*■*»' ! > #t I CHAPTER II. PAINTING IN THE MIDDLE AGES. our last chapter we spoke of the gulf which apparently separates modern from ancient pictorial art. It may perhaps be possible, by taking up the links of the broken chain of tradition, to trace a connection, however slight, between the two periods. Constantine removed the .eat of the empire from Rome to Byzantium, precisely at the period to which we have come. This great event obliges us to divide the history of art into two parts. We shall follow it first in the Eastern Empire, until the taking of Constantinople ; then we shall find it once more in Italy. After having enthroned Christianity, Constantine set himself to decorate his new capital — to make it another Rome. He built churches, palaces, baths ; he carried objects of art from Italy, and he was followed by the artists to whom proximity to the Court was a necessity of existence. As it happened at Rome under Augustus, who boasted of having Ibund a city of brick and left it of marble, so architecture quickly grew at Byzantium to be the first of the arts. Painting, although occupying an inferior position, was not abandoned. The Emperor Julian, to show at once his tastes, his talents, and his success, caused himself to be painted crowned by Mercury and Mars ; we kr»ov/, too, that Valentinian, who prided himself on his caligraphy, was also a painter and sculptor. To avenge themselves for the Pagan reaction attempted by Julian the Apostate, the Chri.stians began to destroy many of the vestiges of antiquity anterior to Ch.ist — temples, books, and works of art. " Eager to destroy all that might recall Paganism, the Chri.stians," .says Vasari, "destroyed not only the wonderful .statues, the sculp- tures, the paintings, the mosaics, and the ornaments of the false gods, but also the images of the great men which decorated the public edifices." Under the Emperor Theodosius the Great, in the fourth century, the fatal sect of Iconoclasts (breakers of images) arose. This was the signal for a fresh destruction of statues and ancient pictures. However, if the column of Theodosius — the worthy rival of that of Trajan — testifies to the cultivation of the arts of design, the writings of St. Cyril, who lived in the time of that emperor, furnish irrefragable proofs of it. 14 4 WS!iii»»»*!W«»)»a % i '::a".:a ::L:'i^ j;^:^wvZJt^:;:ii;i^' # I I A. U. 300.] THE FACE OF CHRIST. 15 In the sixth of the ten books which he wrote against the Emperor Julian, one chapter lias for its motto : " Our paintings teach piety " {nostne picturce pietatem decent) In it he entreats painters to teach children temperance, and women chastity. In his book against the Anthropomorphites, the same St. Cyril supports the opinion of the artists of his time, who believed that they must make Jesus "the least beautiful of the children of men." It is remarkable that on this question — whether our Blessed Lord should have in His images the beauty that charms and recalls His celestial origin, or the deformity which the extreme humility of His mission seems to require — the Church, has never decided. The Fathers, as well as the Schoolmen, have always been divided on this point. The opinion that Jesus should not be beau- tiful, sustained by St. Justin, St. Clement, St. Basil, and St. Cyril, was then most generally received. Celsus, the Pagan physician, triumphed at it. "Jesus was not beautiful," said he : " then hf^ was not God." The most eminent of the Fathers, St. Gregory of Nyssa, St. Jerome, St. Augustine, and St. Chrysostom, vainly sustained the contrary opinion. Vainly again, in the twelfth century, did St. Bernard affirm that, as the new Adam, Jesus surpassed even the angels in beauty. The greater number of theologians, down to Saumai.se and the Benedictines, Pouget and Dclarue, in the last century, reproached painters with having taken too much license in ascribing physical beauty to Him of whom the prophet Isaiah said, " He hath no form nor beauty that we should desire Him." In any ca.se, the writings of the Fathers suffice to prove that Christian paintings were till the seventh or eighth century very common. They frequently assumed allegorical forms. Jesus was represented, as well as His mission and sacrifice, under the features of Daniel in the den of lions; of Jonah swallowed by the whale; of the Good Shepherd carrying back to the fold the lo.st sheep; of Orpheus charming the animals; of the Submissive Lamb; and of the Phcenix rising from its ashes. It was the Council of Constantinople, held in A. d. 692, which ordered artists to abandon emblems, and to return to the painting of Sacred History. Taste, however, continued to change more and more, to the detriment of painting. That only was considered beautiful which was rich. When marble seemed too poor a material for sculpture, when statues were made of porphyry, of silver, or gold, they could no longer be contented with pictures on panels. Painting existed, no doubt, for it is stated that the portraits of the emperors were sent into the provinces at their accession ; for example, with Eudo.xia, the wife of Arcadius, when she took the title of Augu.sta, in 395. And Theodosius II., who erected, in 425, a sort of university at Constantinople, cultivated painting, like Valentinian. But the more brilliant mosaic, often formed of precious materials, was preferred for the decoration of temples and palaces. Later — at the time of the sanguinary disturbances which accompanied and followed the reign of Zeno (a. d. 474 to A. d. 491) — painting was prostituted to the lowest employment to which it could descend, .serving to trace those coarse and strange figures used as talismans, abraxas, and amulets of all sorts, which had become fashionable amongst a superstitious people. It is known that Justinian ordered great works in architecture. He caused a new temple (St. Sophia) to be erected to The Divine Wisdom, by the architects 2 . 1P 'I' V I! 16 TJ/£ TABLE BOOK OF ART. [a. d. 400. Anthcmius of Trallcs and Isidorus of Miletus, and was called, like Adrian, Reparator orbis. It was at this period, and precisely on the occasion of these architectural constructions, that the complete triumph of mosaic over painting took place. Proco- pius says positively, that to ornament certain rooms of the emperor's palace, they employed instead of fresco or painting in encaustic, brilliant mosaics in coloured stones, which commemorated the victories and conquests of the imperial arms. From that time mosaic was held in honour, and dethroning true painting, it became especially the art of the Greeks of the Eastern empire. With them taste was be- coming depraved, and their works, as well as their actions and character, showed great debasement of mind. Architectural art, corrupted by oriental taste, was seldom anything but a confused prodigality of capricious ornaments. Statuary, no less degenerated and strange, created only small images in metal, or even mixtures of metals ; and Painting itself became merely a working with enamels and precious stones, with chasings in gold and silver. After Justinian, the bitter theological quarrels led to civil wars ; and whilst Mahomedanism, itself iconoclastic, grew up almost in the vicinity of the holy places, the sect of the Iconoclasts, still increasing, finished by ascending the throne in the person of Leo the Isaurian (a. d. 726). The other Leo, the Armenian, and Michael the Stammerer, joined themselves to the same party, which carried their proceedings against their o[.j;-onent to such a point, that Theophilus, the .son of Michael, caused a monk named Lazarus to be burned, in A. D. 840, as punishment for having painted sacred subjects. At last Basil the Macedonian, an enemy to the iconoclastic party and its excesses, re-established in a. d. 867 the worship of images, and restored to the arts their free exercise. It seems that either old artists must have been preserved from the proscription, which, indeed, had only alighted on religious images, or new artists must have speedily arisen ; since historians tell us that Basil, the greatest con- structor of edifices after Constantine and Justinian, had in his palaces so many pictures representing the battles he had gained and the towns he had taken, that the porticoes, the walls, the ceilings, and the pavements were covered by them. Delivered from the Iconoclasts, the Arts of design could take breath again, and continued to flourish unchecked to the time of the Crusades, at the end of the eleventh century. Everyone knows that these great armed migrations threw Europe as much on Constantinople as on Antioch or Jerusalem ; and that in 1 204 the capital of the Eastern Empire was carried by assault by the Crusaders, under Baldwin of Flanders. In the sack of this town the Jupiter Olympius by Pheidias, the Juno of Samos by Lysippus, and other great works of antiquity, perished at the same time with a number of works of art which a fashion in bad taste bad laden with precious orna- ments. But after the brief division of the Grecian empire between the French and the Venetians, and after the establishment of the Genoese and Pi.sans in the Bosphorus, when a more regular state succeeded to the disorders of conquest, the communication of ancient Greek art to the western nations commenced. The monuments of that art were then much better preserved at Byzantium than at Rome, which had been so many times sacked by the barbarians. At the .same time with the ancient, a now art was also communicated, that of the modern Greeks, who had their 400. A.D. 450.] THEODORIC. 17 architecture, their statuary, their frescoes, and their mosaics. Then, after the expulsion of the Crusaders and the destruction of their ephemeral empire, Michael Palaeologus, who raised for one moment the Greek empire, also restored some life to the fine arts, and amongst them pa-nting was not forgotten. This prince had his princip?. victories depicted in his palace, and placed a portrait of himself in St. Sophia. After Michael, the empire was occupied almost exclusively with resistance to its enemies until the time of Mahomed II., who carried Constantinople by assault, on the 29th May, 1453. Arts and letters then alike took refuge in Italy, where we shall resume their history from the reign of Constantine the Great. th a Irna- land the the The Ime, Ithe leir Between the translation of the seat of empire to Byzantium and the taking of Rome by Odoacer and the discontented mercenaries in A. d. 476, there is little to relate beyond the attacks and the invasions of barbarians. We must then start from their conquest of Rome. It is known with what frightful disasters this was accom- panied, and how many inestimable objects perished in the reiterated pillages tha Rome had to undergo. During the short rule of the first hordes from the north, a. deep slumber seemed to have fallen on all the works of intellect, and the only pro- ductions of this sad perioo which can be considered as in any way belonging to painting are some mosaics serving as pavements in the halls of the bath-rooms. At last the Goths appeared, drove out the nations which had preceded them, and founded an empire. Their appearance in Italy was a deliverance, as it was also in Spain, for in both peninsulas they showed the same mildness of manners, the same spirit of justice, order, and of conservatism. Unfortunately for Italy, their rule was of shorter duration there than in Spain. The great Theodoric — great at least until his old age — who had attached to himself Symmachus, Boethius, and Cassiodorus, stopped the ravages as much as he could, and took every care to preserve the monuments of antiquity. " Having had the happiness," to adopt his own expression, " to find at Rome a nation of statues and a troop of bronze horses," he had several buildings erected to receive them. We are surprised to find this barbarian recom- mending the imitation of the ancients to his architect Aloisius, whom he had made a Count [comes), and whom he called your sublimity, and especially urging him, by a rare instinct of good taste, to make the new buildings to agree with the old ones. His worthy minister, Cassiodorus, himself cultivated painting, at all events that of the time. He relates in his " Epistolae," that he took pleasure in enriching the manuscripts of the monastery he had founded in Calabria, with ornaments painted in miniature. Bede, who had.it is asserted, seen these fij;,.; res and ornaments of the manuscripts of Cassiodorus, says, that nothing could be more carefully executed or more perfect. Unfortunately all these works afterwards perished, and nothing of this period has been preserved to us but mosaics. The Goths, " closely resembling the Greeks," says their historian Jornandes, did not stand long against the civil wars which broke out after tlie death of Theodoric ; i^ t if i8 T/fJS TABLE BOOK OF ART. [a. d. 600. the attacks of the E.omans from Byzantium, conducted by Narses ; and those of the fresh tribes which precipitated themselves across the Alps from the North. In the middle of the sixth century, the Lombards, under Alboin, made them- selves masters of Italy. The dominion of these new conquerors was continually disturbed by intestine quarrels, and contested by the exarchs of Ravenna, acting as lieutenants of the emperor at Constantinople. In such a situation, when feudal anarchy was beginning to people Italy with petty tyrants, the arts could be but feebly cultivated. However, the king, Antharis, who had become a Christian to please his wife Theodelinda (as Clovis had at the prayers of Clotilda), caused churches to be built or repaired, which he decorated with sculptures and paintings. Then Theode- linda herself, when a widow and queen, founded the celebrated residence of Monza, near Milan. We find in the writings of the Lombard Warnefridus of Aquileia, known by the name of Paul the Deacon, a minute description of the paintings in the Palace of Monza, which recorded the exploits of the Lombard armies. From these pictures, which were before his eyes, he described all the accoutrements of his fellow-country- men, or rather of his ancestors, for he lived two centuries later. Luitprand continued the work of Theodelinda. An enemy to the Iconoclasts, he began, by the advice of Gregory III., to decorate the churches with frescoes and mosaics. The removal of the imperial court, in the first place, and then th,e rule of the barbarians — now become Christians and devotees — had given great importance to the bishops of Rome. Under cover of the long wars between the Lombard kings and the exarchs of Ravenna, the popes founded their temporal power, acquired territory, and became sovereigns. This circumstance was fortunate for the arts, which found in them natural protectors, and Rome, restored by the papacy, became the centre and the capital of art. In spite of the approach of Attila, whom St. Leo stopped at the gates of the holy city — in spite of the pillage to which Genseric, less awed than the fierce king of the Huns, delivered it — we see the successive labours of the popes for the restoration of Rome begun and continued. Before leaving that ancient capital of the world, Constantine had built the old St. Peter's, the old St. Paul's, St. Agnes, and St. Lawrence. The popes decorated these churches magnificently, and we may mention principally the great work of St. Leo, who caused the whole series of popes from St. Peter to himself to be painted on the wall of the basilica of St. Paul. This work, begun in the fifth century, has lasted to our own day, having been spared in the great fire which destroyed the greater part of that edifice in 1824; and Lanzi justly quotes it in proof of the assertion with which he begins his book: "That Italy was not without painters, even during the dark ages, appears not only from history, but from various pictures that have resisted the attacks of time. Rome still retains some of very ancient date." In the " Liber Pontificalis," Anastasius the librarian, or whoever else may be the author of that book, gives a very complete detail of the sculpture, the carving, and the works in gold and silver in the churches founded by Constantine. As for the paintings, of which he also speaks, they have all perished except the mosaics and fVescoes in the Christian catacombs. But Anastasius speaks of the new kind of painting, which was just becoming fashionable, in those times when metals alone SAMSON AND THE LION. (from the onginal painting by Albert Diirer.) i! ^1 A. D. 700.] CHARLEMA GNE. »9 were considered valuable ; I mean painting in embroidery, that is to say, worked with gold and silver threads on silk stuffs. He speaks among other things of a chasuble of Pope Honorius I., A. d. 625, the embroidery on which represented the Deliverance of St. Peter and the Assumption of the Virgin. The art of embroidery had been brought from the East by the Greeks of Byzan- tium. It was known to the ancient Greeks, even from the earliest times, as is evidenced by the tapestry of Penelope, wherein figures were represented in different colours. It was also known to the Romans, according to Cicero's allusion when reproaching Verres with his thefts in Sicily (" neque ullam picturatn, ncquc in tabula, neque te.xtili fuisse"). In the time of St. John Chrysostom (fourth century), the toga of a Christian senator contained as many as six hundred figures, which made the eloquent orator say with grief, "All our admiration is now reserved for goldsmiths and weavers." It was especially in Italy that the art of embroidery gained ground. It is enough to mention the famous tapestry of the Countess Matilda, that celebrated friend of Gregory VII., who reigned over Tuscany, Modena, Mantua, and Ferrara, from 1076 to 1 125, and who by her donations so largely added to the " Patrimony of St. Peter." When Charlemagne, after having destroyed the Lombard kingdom, was crowned, at Rome, Emperor of the West, there was a moment of great hope for the arts. What might not have bi.en expected from the powerful protection of a prince who under- stood — though without possessing it — the advantages of science, who collected around his person the Lombard Paul the Deacon, Peter of Pisa, Paulinus of Aquileia, the English Alcuin, and his pupil Eginhard? But continued military expeditions left him too little leisure to permit him to give an impulse to arts which would have required his whole care and time. Charlemagne only caused some bas-reliefs, mosaics, and illuminated manuscripts to be executed for his much-loved church of Aachen (Aix-la-Chapelle). But the popes, tranquil in Italy under his protection, took the part he could not fulfil. Adrian I., who praises in his letters the works of painting ordered by his predecessors, caused a picture of Feeding thi poor to be painted on the walls of St. John Lateran; and his successor, Leo III., had the Preaching of the Apostles represented in fresco in the gallery of the triclinium at the palace of the Lateran, the vaulted roof of which was decorated in mosaic. It was in the eleventh century, — after that terrible year locx), which it had been generally expected would bring the end of the world, during that period when, favoured by the ever-reviving quarrels between the emperors and the popes, the Italian republics, Venice, Florence, Genoa. Pisa, and Siena, were in process of forma- tion, and when the Normans regaining '-^cX- from the Arabs, were establishing an empire in the sou'.h of Italy, — that we see clearly how to take up the links of the traditional chain, and find the first symptoms of the future revival. It is to this time that the different images of the Virgin, which have been attributed to St. Luke, the paintings also n the vaults of the Duomo of Aquileia, of Santa Maria Pri.sca at Orvieto, the Madonna delle Grasie, and the Madonna di Tressa, in the cathedral of Siena, all belong. At the same period, and even before the crusades, an intercourse was begun between the artists of the Eastern Empire and those of Italy. This had f r'Tl 20 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. [a. u. 1000. 1' become very important to the latter, after such a long interruption in the practice of art. Many Greek paintings were then brought from Constantinople and Smyrna, amongst others a Madonna, which is at Rome in Sta. Maria in Cosmcdin, and another Madonna in the Camerino of the Vatican, which is said by Lanzi to be the best work of the liyzantines in Italy, both in regard to its painting and its state of preservation. It was also in the eleventh century that the Venetians sent for Greek workers in mosaic, to whom we owe the large mosaics in the singular and quite orients 'ira of St. Mark's at Venice. Other Greek workers in mosaic were invited to S ^ , and many were found already there, in the twelfth century, by the Norman William the Good, when he built his celebrated cathedral of Monrealc. Then at last national art awoke in Italy, and after the long period of obscurity which we call the dark ages, the first streaks of light were seen announcing the dawn of a new civilization soon to arise on the world. And yet this was not because the country was cither peaceful or prosperous. The quarrels of the Kmperor Otho IV. and the Pope Innocent III. had revived the hatred of the Guelph and the Ghibelline factions. Under Frederick II. the league of the Lombard towns, the claims of Gregory IX. and Innocent IV. kept up the inces.sant war between the empire and the papacy. But in the midst of these conflicts, not only of words, but also of arms, and in which every one wished to prove that he had right as well as might on his side, intellect had thrown off its drowsiness, and the human mind once more moved forward. Notwithstanding his reverses, Frederick II. contributed much t'^ this movement. He was a clear-sighted prince, learned for his period, and had r red around him a polite and elegant court. King of the Two Sicilies, as well as ir of Germany, he almost constantly resided in Italy. He composed verses m the vulgar idiom, and caused a number of Greek or Arabian books to be translated into Latin. He erected several palaces, which he delighted in decorating with columns and statues. The medals of his reign arc of a style and finish till then forgotten since ancient times. Lastly, he had books of his own composition illuminated with miniature paintings, the execution of which he himself directed and superintended. The princes of the house of Anjou followed his example, and the popes would not yield to the emperor in art any more than in the rest of their pretensions. The sovereign pontiffs of this age, Honorius III., Gregory IX., Innocent IV., Nicholas IV., caused the porticoes and the immense galleries of their churches to be ornamented with frescoes and mosaics. By a result scarcely perhaps to be expected, even the agitation of the period fostered an increased growth of all the sciences, and also especially of art. The republics, the free cities, the small states, all the fragments of divided Italy, in every- thing disputed pre-eminence with each other. Each wished to triumph over its rival by the importance of its establishments and the beauty of the works of its arti.sts. Again, the rulers whom the greater number of these states had chosen, or those who had raised themselves to be masters, each considering himself a new Pericles, and forestalling the Medici, wished, whilst he flattered the vanity of his fellow-citizens, at the same time to occupy their attention and to satisfy their wishes. We can under- stand what this double sentimeni, this double want, must have produced. From it Si A. U. I 100.] NOBLE ARCHITECTURE. 21 there resulted indeed vast cathedrals, sumptuous monasteries, grand palaces, and halls. Krom the same cau.se sprang up a universal taste, a .spirit of emulation, a passionate ardour, all the stimulating qualities of a noble labour performed publicly, which, while it seeks, is at the same time rewarded by the public approval. When in a. d. 1294, Florence decreed the erection of her cathedral, the pode.sta of the seignory was enjoined " to trace the plan of it with the most sumptuous magnificence, so that the industry and power of man shall never invent and undertake anything more vast or beautiful ; inasmuch as no one ought to put his hand to the works of the community with any less design than to make them correspond with the lofty spirit which binds the souls of all the citizens into one single, united, identical will." Who is it that holds such magnificent and haughty language? Was it Pericles giving orders to Ictinus and Pheidias for the erection of the temple to the virgin daughter of Zeus ? No. It was simply the seignory of Florence; — but Florence was then a modern Athens. Having succinctly given the history of art in general through the events and changes of political revolutions, it remains for us to trace the particular history of the various processes which form the links between ancient and modern art. n r^r^. ;i II CHAPTER III. EylRLY I TALI A lY ART. HE Lives of the most excellent Painters, Sculptors and Architects by Vasari, the first historian of Italian Art, opens with Cimabue, but we believe that Vasari gave this distinction to Cimabue because he was like himself, a Florentine. If art implies the blending of modern thought and knowledge with the pure spirit of the antique, then Nicola Pisano is the real reviver of art in Italy. He was born in 1204, and as sculptor and architect exercised immense in- fluence on ilie art of his own century, and made classic feeling a possession of his countrymen for all time. It is vain, however, after three centuries of recognition, to alter the order of names occurring in a book which has exercised the ingenuity of almost as many annotators and critics as the " Divine Comedy" itself. Art full but did not expire with the Roman empire. On the contrary, when sustenance ceasca in one quarter it turned to another, and found in the Christian Church a patron who made it the special vehicle for the propagation of her doctrines, and whose fostering care surpassed that of the Ctisars. The art culminated, perhaps, in the long and glorious reign of Justinian, 527-565 ; but Roman influence and tradition did not cease to be active till the eighth or ninth century. It was restored and carried on by artists from the East during the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries, as the rising wealth of cities enabled their rulers to import the techni- cally skilled hands of Byzantium. Art, then, like truth, has never in the darkest night of history been without a torclj-bearcr ; and wlvcther reflected on the broad bosom of the Euphrates or the Nile, on the streamlet of the Illissus, or on the yellow waters of the Tiber, its light has been borne safely along, till now in Cimabue it meets the approaching dawn of iatcllrctual life and freedom. Italian art existed in small beginnings, in the gorgeous but quaintly formal or iantastic devic^.-s of illuminated missals, and in the stiff" spasmodic efforts of here and there an artist spirii such as the old Florentine Cimabue's, when a great man heralded a great epoch. But first we should like to mention the means by which art then worked. Painting on board and on plastered walls, the second styled painting 2z :ts by ut we e was sdern then born : in- )f his >n, to ty of when istian rincs, haps, and tored ^elfth chni- >ut a r the n of il or and man h art iting r ii ft I 4 kr^^^- i CIMABUE. 23 in fresco, preceded painting on canvas. Colours were mixed with water or with size, egg, or fig-juice — the latter practices termed tempera (in Tnglish in distemper) before oil was used to mix colours. But painters did not confine themselves then to painting^ with pencil or brush, else they might have attained technical excellence sooner. It has been well said that the poems of the middle ages were written in stone ; so the earlier painters painted in stone, in that mosaic work which one of them called — referring to its durability — " painting for eternity ; " and in metals. Many of them were the sons of jewellers or jewellers themselves ; they worked in iron as well as in gold and silver, and they were sculptors and architects as well as painters, engineers also, so far as engineering in the construction of roads, bridges, and canals, was known in those days. The Greek knowledge of anatoiny was well-nigh lost, so that drawing was incorrect and form bad. The idea of showing degrees of distance, and the management of light and shade, was feebly developed. Even the fore-shortening of figures was so difficult to the old Italian painters that they could not carry it into the extremities, and men and women seem as if standing on the points of their toes. Landscape-painting did not exist farther than that a rock or a bush, or a few blue lines, with fishes out of proportion prominently interposed, indicated, as on the old stage, that a desert, a forest, or a sea, was to play its part in the story of "^he picture. So also portrait-painting was not thought of, unless it occurred in the likeness of a great man belonging to tiie time and place of the painter, who was the donor of some picture to chapel or monastery, or of the painter himself, alike introduced into sacred groups and scenes ; for pictures were uniformly of a religious character, until a little later, when they merged into allegorical representations, just as one remembers tl'at miracle plays passed into moral plays before ordinary human life was reproduced. Until this period, what we call dramatic expression in making a striking situation, or even in bringing the look of joy sorrow, pleasure or pain, into a face, had hardly been attained. Perhaps you will ask, what merit had the old paintings of the middle ages to compensate for so many great disadvantages and incongruities ? Certainly before the time we have reached, they have, with rare exceptions, little inerit, save that fascination of pathos, half comic, half-tragic, which belongs to the struggling dawn of all great endeavours, and especially of all endeavours in art. But just at this epoch, art, in one man, took a great stride, began, as we shall try to show, to exert an influence so true, deep, and high that it extends, in the noblest forms, to the present day, and much more than compensates to the thoughful and poetic for a protracted train of technical blunders and deficiencie^!. Giovanni Gaultiieui or CiMAnuE, infused life into the old school from which he sprang. He was to reanimate old and worn-out types, to soften the harshness of a degenerate school, and to shed over barbarous times the poetry of sentiment and colour. He was born in Florence in 1240, and was living in 1302, when he was engaged on a mosaic in the Duomo of Pisa. The date of his death is unknown, but it occurred at Florence, and he was buried in the Church of Santa Maria del Fiore. He early discovered a bias for art, and the circumstances of his family and the ll .uisr'r ) !•! > I ^1 24 r//^ TABLE BOOK OF ART. time were entirely in his favour. Florence and other Italian cities gave employment to many Greek artists at the time the youthful Cimabue was most keenly perceptive, and his own style, as a natural consequence, was founded on the Byzantine. The number of those Greek artists, it may be well to remember, had, since the beginning of the century, largely increased ; and it was the conquest of Constantinople by the Latins in 1204 which extended and made more frequent this intercourse between the Greeks and the Latins. In the early Christian ages there was grandeur as well as severity in Byzantine art ; but in Cimabue's time it had become, in spite of its technique, altogether debased; his greatest service to art consisted in abandoning much of the uncouth manner of the Byzantines, and turning, like ancient Greeks, to nature. His great picture, the Madonna, which he painted as an altar-piece for the Church of Santa Maria Novella, in Florence, was the largest picture painted down to these times, and the work, says Vasari, " wa.s an object of much admiration to the people." Great was the industry of Cimabue; and his work on the Cuibedrals and convents of Pisa and Florence are mementoes revered as foundation-piclures of Christian art. Giotto, known also as Magister Joctus, was born in 1276 near Florence. We dare say many have heard one legend of him, and we mean to tell the legends of the painters, because even when they are most doubtful they give the most striking indications of the times and the light in which painters and their paintings were regarded by the world of artists, and by the world at large ; but so far as we have heard this legend of Giotto has not been disproven. The only objection which can be urged against it, is that it is found preserved in various countries, of very different individuals — a crowning objection also to the legend of William Tell. Giotto was a shepherd boy keeping his father's sheep and amusing himself by drawing with chalk on a stone the favourites of the flock, when his drawings attracted the attention of a traveller passing from the heights into the valley. This traveller was the well-born and highly-esteemed painter Cimabue, who was so delighted with the little lad's rough outlines, that getting the consent of Giotto's father, Cimabue adopted the boy, carried him off to the city of Florence, introduced him to his studio, and so far as man could supplement the work of God, made a painter of the youthful genius. We may add here a later legend of Giotto. Pope Boniface VIII. requested specimens of skill from various artists with the view to the appointment of a painter to decorate St. Peter's. Giotto, either in impatient disdain, or to show a careless triumph of skill, with one flourish of his hand, without the aid of compass, executed a perfect circle in red chalk, and sent the circle as his contribution to tlie .specimens required by the Pope. The audacious specimen was accepted as the most conclusive, Giotto was chosen as the Pope's painter for the occasion, and from the incident arose the Italian proverb " round as the o of Giotto." Giotto was the friend of Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio, especially of Dante, to whom the grandeur of some of the painter's designs has been vaguely enough attributed. The poet of the " Inferno " wrote of his friend : u J^ GIOTTO. 25 Cimabue thought To lord it over painting's field; and now The cry is Giotto's, and his name eclipsed." Petrarch bequeathed in his will a Madonna by Giotto and mentioned it as a rare treasure of art Boccaccio wrote a merry anecdote of his comrade the painter's wit, in the course of which he referred with notable plain-speaking to Giotto's " flat currish" plainness of face. The impression handed down of Giotto's character is that of an independent, high-spirited man, full of invention, full of imagination, and also, by a precious com- bination, full of shrewdness and common sense ; a man genial, given to repartee, and at the same time not deficient in the tact which deprives repartee of its sting. While he was working to King Robert of Naples, the king, who was watching the painter on a very hot day, said, with a shrug, " If I were you, Giotto, I would leave off work and rest myself this fine day." "And so would I, sire, if I were you" replied the wag. We need scarcely add that Giotto was a man hicrhly esteemed and very prosper- ous in his day; one account reports him as the head of a family and the father of four sons and four daughters. We have purposely writen first of the fame, the reputed character, and the circumstances of Giotto before we proceed to his work. This great work was, in brief, to breathe into painting the living soul which had till then — in mediaeval times — been largely absent. Giotto went to Nature for his inspiration, and not content with the immense innovation of superseding by the actual representation of men and women in outline, tint, and attitude, the rigid traditions of his pre- decessors, he put men's passions in their faces — the melancholy looked sad, the gay glad. This result, to us so simple, filled Giotto's lively countrymen, who had seldom seen it, with astonishment and delight. They cried out as at a marvel when he made the commonest deed even coarsely life-like, as in the case of a sailor in a boat, who turned round with his hand before his face and spat into the sea; and when he illustrated the deed with the corresponding expression, as in the thrill of eagerness that perceptibly pervaded the whole figure of a thirsty man who stooped down to drink. Giotto's work did not end with himself; he was the founder of the earliest worthy school of Italian art, so worthy in this very glorious idealism, that, as we have already said, the men whose praise is most to be coveted, have learned to turn back to Giotto and his immediate successors, and, forgetting and forgiving all their ignorance, crudeness, quaintness, to dwell never wearied, and extol without measure these oldest masters' dignity of spirit, the earnestness of their originality, the solemnity and heedfulness of their labour. The last example of Ciiotto's, is the one which of all his works is most potent and patent in its beauty, and has struck, and, in so far as we can tell, will for ages strike, with its greatness multitudes of widely different degrees of cultivation whose intellectual capacity is as far apart as their critical faculty. We mean the matchless Campanile or bcll-tmucr "towering over the Dome of Brunelleschi " at Florence, formed of coloured marbles — for which Giotto framed the designs, and even executed I ! 36 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. with his own hands the models for the sculpture. Of this great example the Emperor Charles V. said, " the Campanile ought to be kept under glass." It is known that Giotto, together with his friend Dante, died before this — Giotto's last great work — was finally constructed by Giotto's pupil, Taddeo Gaddi, and that therefore neither of the friends could have really looked on " Giotto's Tower," though Italian Ciceroni point out, and strangers love to contemplate, the very stone on which " Grim Dante " sat and gazed with admiration in the calm light of evening on the enduring memorial of the painter. Giotto died in the year 1336 or 1337, ^"'^ "^^^ buried with suitable honours by a city, which, like the rest of the nation, has magnified its painters amongst its great men, in the church of Santa Maria del Flore, where his master Cimabue had been buried. Lorenzo de' Medici afterwards placed over Giotto's tomb his effigy in marble. Andre.\ Orcagx.v, otherwise known as Andrea di Clone, one of a brotherhood of painters, was born in Florence about 1315. His greatest works are in the Campo Santa of Pisa. This wonderful "holy field" is a grand legacy, so far as dilapidation, alas, will let it be, of the old painters. Originally a place of burial, though no longer used as such, it is enclosed by high walls and an arcade, something like the cloisters of a cathedral or college running round, and having on the north and east sides chapels where masses for the dead were celebrated. The space in the centre was filled with earth brought from the Holy Land by the merchant, ships of Pisa. It is covered with turf, having tall cypress-trees at the corners, and a little cross in the centre. The arcade is pierced with sixty-two windows, and contains on its marble pavement hundreds of monuments — among them the Greek sarcophagi studied by Nicola Pisano. But the great distinction of the Campo Santa (of which there are many photographs) are the walls opposite the windows of the arcade painted with Scriptural subjects by artists of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, for the decoration of the walls was continued at intervals, during two hundred years. The havoc wrought by time and damp has been terrible ; not only c.re the pictures faded and discoloured, but of the earliest only mutilated fragments, " here an arm and there a head," remain. Giotto's illustrations of the book of Job have thus perished. Still Orcagna's work has partially escaped, and left us indications of what it was in his and its youth, when Michael ^\ngjlo and Raphael did not disdain to borrow from it in design and arrangement. One of Orcagna's altar-pieces, that of The Coronation of the Virgin, containing upwards of a hundred figures, and with the colouring still rich, is in the English National Gallery. As an architect, Orcagna designed the famous Loggia de' Lanzi of the grand ducal palace at Florence. Now we must take you back to the bronze gates of the Baptistery in their triumphant completion nearly a hundred years after the first gate was executed by Andrea Pisano. We should have liked, but for our limits, to tell in full the legend of the election of Lorenzo Ghiberti, the step-son of a goldsmith, and skilled in chasing and enamelling, to design the second gate ; when yet a lad of twenty-three, how he and two other young men, one of them still younger than Ghiberti, were declared the most promising competitors in the trial for the work; how the last two voluntarily I THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS. (From the oris'nial painting by Rubens.) GHIBERTI, MAS AC CIO. a; withdrew f-om the contest, magnanimously proclaiming Lorenzo Ghibcrti their superior; how all the three lived to be famous, the one as a founder in metal, the others as an architect and a sculptor, and remained sworn brothers in art till death. Lorenzo Ghiberti has left us an expression of the feeling with which he set about his task, an expression so suggestive that, even had we no other indication, it is enough to stamp the true and tender nature of the man. He prepared for his achieve- ment " with infinite diligence and love " — the words deserve to be pondered over. He took at least twenty-two years to his work, receiving for it eleven hunilred florins. He chose his subjects from the life and death of the Lord, working them out in twenty panels, ten on each side of the folding doors, and below these were eight panels containing full-length figures of the four evangelists and four doctors of the Latin Church, with a complete border of fruit and foliage, having heads of prophets and sibyls interspersed. So entire was the satisfaction the superb gate gave, that Lorenzo was not merely loaded with praise, he received a commission to design and cast a third and central gate which should surpass the others, that were thenceforth to be the side entrances. For his second gate Lorenzo Ghiberti repaired to the Old Testament for subjects, bc;j;inning with the creation and ending with the meeting of Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, and represented them in ten compartments enclosed in a rich border of fruit and foliage, with twenty-four full-length figures of the Hebrew heroes and ])rophets, clearly and delicately designed and finished, occupying corresponding niches. This crowning gate engaged the founder upwards of eighteen years — forty- nine years arc given as the term of the work of both the gates. Michael Angclo called these gates " worthy to be the gates of Paradise," and they are .still one of the glories of Florence. Casts of the gates are to be found in the Academy of Fine Arts at Philadelphia, and in the Corcoran Gallery, Washington, D. C. A little village boy learned to draw and model from Ghibcrti's gates. He in his turn was to create in the Brancacci Chapel of the Church of the Carmine at Florence a school of painters scarcely less renowned and powerful in its effects than that produced by the works in the Campo Santa. You will find the Italian painters not unfrequently known by nicknames, quite as often by their father's trades as by their father's surnames, and still oftener by the town which was their place of birth or nurture. This Tommaso Guido, or Maso de San Giovanni (from his village birth- place), was commonly called Masaccio, short for Tomasaccio, " hulking Tom," as we have heard it translated, on account of his indifferent, slovenly habits. We think there is a tradition that he entered a studio in Florence as a colour boy, and electrified the painter and his scholars, by brownie like freaks of painting at their unfinished work, in their absence, better than any of his masters, and by the dexterity with which he per- petrated the frolic of putting the facsimile of a fly on one of the faces on the easel.s. His end was a tragic conclusion to such light comedy. At the age of twenty-six, he quitted Florence for Rome so suddenly that he left his frescoes unfinislied. It was said that he was summoned thither by the Pope. At Rome, where little or nothing of Masaccio's life is known, he died shortly afterwards, not without a suspicion of his having been poisoned. TT J : i If: il. i .;: : , i 28 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. There is a tradition — not very probible under the circumstances — that Masaccio is buried, without name or stone, under the Brancacci Chapel. Be that as it may, he very early rose to eminence, surpassing all his predecessors in drawing and colouring, and he combined with those acquirements such animation and variety of expres- sion in his characters,' that it was said of him " he painted souls as well as bodies," while his invention was not less bold and fresh. It is difficult to indicate Masaccio's pictures because some of them have been repainted and destroyed. As to those in the Brancacci Chapel from the life of St. Peter, (with the exception of two,) considerable confusion has arisen as to which arc Masaccio's, and which belong to his scholar Filippino Lippi. The fresco which Ma- saccio left unfinished, that of the Apostles Peter and Paul raising a dead youth (from traditional history), was finished by Lippi. In the fresco of Peter baptizing the con- verts, generally attributed to Masaccio, there is a lad who has thrown off his gar- ments, and stands shivering with cold, whose figure, according to authority, formed an epoch in art. Lionardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo, Andrea del Sarto, Fra Barto- lommco, all studied their art in this chapel. Raphael borrowed the grand figure of St. Paul preaching at Athens in one of the cartoons, from one of Masaccio's or Filippo Lippi's frescoes. Masaccio's excellence as an artist, reached at an immature age, is very remarkable. Fra Filippo Lippi was born in Florence, probably in 1412. This artist, accord- ing to Vasari, was one who disgraced his profession in his private life; but many doubts have since been thrown on the story, which may be briefly thus related. Left an orphan at an early age, Lippi was placed by an aunt — Mona Lappaccia by name — in the Carmelite Convent del Carmine when eight years old. He soon displayed great talent and liking for painting, and the prior wisely allowed him to follow his fa- vourite amusement as a profession. In 1432, at about the early age of twenty, on leaving the convent, Lippi gave up the frock, — so says Vasari, — and during a pleasure excursion from Ancona, he and his companions were taken prisoners by Moorish pirates, and carried slaves to Bar- bary. After eighteen months' captivity Lippi drew a portrait of his owner with char- coal on a white wall, which excited so much wonder and admiration among the Moors, that his master, after getting him to execute several works in colour, sent him safely back to Italy. He landed at Naples, where he stayed only a few months, and then returned to Florence. In 1458, while employed in painting at the Convent of Santa Margherita, he carried off Lucrezia Buti — a young Florentine lady, w' ) \va> being educated by the nuns — and who was afterwards the mother ' \ ppino Lippi. No evidence has been found of his reputed stay at Ancona, 1 ,ii.urc by pi- rates, or his residence in Naples, at which town he is supposed to havi aded r his return from Barbary. When he left the Convent of the Carmelites in 1432, h does not appear to have given up the frock, for later in life he signs himself " Fratcr Filip- pus," and in the register of his death in the Carmine Convent, he is called " Fr. Filip- pus." As regards the tale of Lucrezia, it is not likely that a monk who had led a scandalous life would have been appointed chaplain of a nunnery in Florence, and FRA ANGELICO. 29 rector of San Quirico at Legnaia, both of which facts are now certain; therefore it is better to give Lippi the benefit of the doubt, especially as everything which has since been discovered tends to show the fallacy of Vasari's statements regarding him, and nothing has been found to corroborate them. It is supposed by sone that Filippino Lippi was an adopted son of this artist. In the Convent del Carmine, Filippo Lippi is said to have studied under Masac- cio, who was at that time employed in the chapel of the convent, but it is more pro- bable that he studied more from the pictures of that master than from the artist him- self He painted frescoes both in the church and convent, and amongst others the Confirmation of the Rules of the Carmelites, in the cloisters ; these are no longer in ex- istence; those in the church were destroyed by fire in 1771. Lippi painted frescoes in r.-ato from 1456 to 1464, with numerous interruptions. He died at Spoleto — it is supposed of poison administered by Lucrezia's friends (Vasari) — October 8th, 1469. He was buried in the Cathedral of Spoleto, and a marble monument was erected over his grave by Filippino Lippi, at the desire and the cost of Lorenzo de' Medici. We have come to the last and probably the best appreciated of the early Italian painters. Fra Angelico da I'iesole, the gentle devout monk whom Italians called " II Beato," the Blessed, and who probably did receive the distinction of beatification, a distinction only second in the Roman Catholic Church to that of canonization. He ■was born at the lovely little mountain-town of Fiesole near Florence, 1 387, and his •worldly name, which he bore only till his twenty-first year, was Guido Petri de Mu- gello. In his youth, with his gift already recognized, so that he might well have won ease and honour in the world, he entered the Dominican Convent of St. Mark, Flo- rence, for what he deemed the good and peace of his soul. He seldom afterwards left it, and that only as directed by his convent superior, or summoned by the Pope. He Avas a man devoid of personal ambition, pure, humble, and meek. When offered the Archbishopric of Florence as a tribute to his sanctity, he declined it on account of his unworthiness for the office. He would not work for money, and only painted at the command of his prior. He began his painting with fasting and prayer. Believing himself inspired in his work, he steadfastly refused to make any alteration in the ori- ginals. It is said that he was found dead at his easel with a completed picture before him. It is not wonderful, that from such a man should come one side of the per- fection of that idealism which Giotto had begun. Fra Angelico's angels, saints. Saviour, and Virgin are more divinely calm, pure, sweet, endowed with a more exult- ing saintliness, a more immortal youth and joy, and a more utter self-abnegation and sympathetic tenderness than are to be found in the saints and the angels, the Saviour and the Virgin of other painters. Neither is it surprising that Fra Angelico's defects, besides that of the bad drawing which shows more in his large than in his small pic- tures, are those of a want of human knowledge, power, and freedom. His wicked — even his more earthly-souled characters, are weak and faulty in action. What should the reverent and guileless dreamer know, unless indeed by inspiration, of the rude conflicts, the fire and fury of human passions intensified in the malice and anguish of devils? But Fra Angelico's singular successes far transcend his failures. In addition to the sublime serenity and positive radiance of expression which he could impart to A i i I< T i I ,fi.! Ill 11 I jji 1) ! f i 30 TJI£ TABLE BOOK OF ART. his heads, his notions of grouping and drapii.g were full of grace, sometimes of splen- dour and magnificence. In harmony with his happy temperament and fortunes, he was fond of gay yet delicate colours " like spring flowers," and used a profusion of gold ornaments which do not seem out of keeping in his pictures. The most of Fra Angelico's pictures are in Florence — the best in his own old convent of St. Mark, where he lovingly adorned not only chapter-hall and court, but the cells of his brother fria -s, A crucifi.x with adoring saints worshipping their crucified Saviour is regarded as hij master-piece in St. Mark's. A famous coronation of the Virgin, which Fia Angelico painted for a church in his native town, and which is now in the Louvre, Paris, is thus described by Mrs. Jameson : " It represents a throne under a rich Gothic canopy, to which there is an ascent of nine steps; on the highest kneels the Virgin, veiled, her hands ciossed on her bosom. Che is clothed in a red tunic, a blue robe over it, and a royal mantle with a rich bo» der flowing down behind. The features are most delicately lovely, and the expression of the face full of humiliiy and adoration. Christ, seated on the throne, bends forward, and is in the act of placing the crown on her head ; on each side are twelve angels, who are playing a heaven.y concert with guitars, tambourines, trumpets, v iols, and other musical instruments ; lower than these, on each side, arc forty holy personages of the Old and New Testament; and at the foot of the throne kneel seveial saints, male and female, among them St. Catherine with her wheel, St. Agnes with her lamb, and St. Cecilia crowned with flowers. Peneath the principal picture there is a row of seven small ones, forming a border, and representiiig various incidents in the life of St. Dominic." :l 1 ,<-« fi' I 'f • a CHAPTER IV. EARLY FLEMISH ART. > «f \ — ' > ' 111 its 1 .^- \^ IN the Low Countries painting had very much the same history that it had in Italy, but the dates are later, and there may be a longer interval given to each stage of development. Religious painting, profuse in symbolism, with masses of details elaborately worked in, meets us in the first place. This style of painting reached its culmination, in which it included (as it did not include in its repre- sentation in the Italian pictures) many and varied excellencies, among them the establishment of painting in oil in the pictures of the Flemish family of painters — the Van Eycks. Before going into the little that is known of the family history of the Van Eycks, we should like to call attention to the numerous painter families in the middle ages. What a union, and repose, and happy sympathy of art-life it indicates, which we appear to have lost in the restlessness and separate interests of modern life. The Van Eycks consisted of no less than four members of a family, three brothers, Hu- bert, John, and Lambert, and one sister, Margaret, devoted, like her brothers, to her art. There is a suggestion that they belonged to a small village of Limburg called Eyck, and repaired to Bruges in order to pursue their art. Hubert was thirty years older than John, and it is said that he was a serious-minded man as well as an ardent painter, and belonged to the religious fraternity of our Lady of Ghent. He died in 1426. John, though of so much consideration in his profession as to be believed to be "the Flemish painter" sent by Duke Philip the Good of Flanders and Burgundy with a mission to Portugal to solicit the hand of a princess in marriage, is reported to have died very poor in 1449, and has the suspicion attached to him of having been a lover of pleasure and a spendthrift. Of Lambert, the third brother, almost nothing is known ; indeed, the fact of his existence has only lately come to light. Margaret lived and died unmarried, and belonged, like her brother Hubert, to the religious society of our Lady of Ghent. She died about 1432. The invention of painting in oil, for which the Van Eycks are commonly known, was not literally that of mi.xing colours with oil, which was occasionally done before their day. It was tiie combining oil with resin, so as to produce at once a good varnish, and avoid the necessity of drying pictures in the sun, a bright thought, which 31 I I 32 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. w b' may stand in the same rank with the constructioi:, by James Watt, of that valve which rendered practicable the application of steam to machinery. The thought, occasioned by the cracking of a picture in tempera exposed to the sun, is due to Hubert Van Eyck. The great picture of the Van Eycks, which was worked at for a number of years by both Hubert and John, and, as some reckon, touched by the whole family, is the Adoration of the Lamb, at St. Bavon's, Ghent. Hubert Van Eyck died while this work was in progress, and it was finished by his brother John six years after Hubert's death When one thinks of the intense application and devotion which such a work costs, and recalls the bronze gates of St. John that occupied Lorenzo Ghiberti forty-nine years, and when we occasionalh' hear reports of large paintings which were begun and ended in so many days — even so many hours, one can better understand what is the essential difference between the works of the early and the later painters, a difference which no skill, no power even can bridge over. John Van Eyck, who had lived late enough to have departed from the painting of sacred pictures alone, so that he left portraits and an otter hunt among his works, is three times represented in the National Gallery of England, in three greatly esteemed portraits, one a double portrait, believed to be the likenesses of the painter and his wife, standing hand in hand with a terrier dog at their feet. GossAERT, called De Mabuse from his native town of Mabeuze, sometimes signing his name Joannes Malbodius, followed in the .steps of the Van Eycks, particularly in his great picture of the Adoration of the Kings, which is at Castle Howard, the seat of the Earl of Carlisle. Mabuse was in England and painted the children of Henry VH. in a picture, which is at Hampton Court. There is a picture in the palace of Holy- rood, Edinburgh, which has been attributed to Mabuse. It represents on the sides of a triptych or diptych (somewhat like a folding screen) James HI. and his queen with attendants. The fur on the queen's dress displays already that marvellous technical skill for which Flemish painting is so celebrated. Hans Memling belonged to Bruges. There is a tradition of him, which is to a certain extent disproven, that he was a poor soldier relieved by the hospital of St. John, Bruges, and that in gratitude he executed for the hospital the well-known reliquary of St. Ursula. However it might have originated, this is the most noted work of a painter, who was distinguished frequently by his minute missal- like painting (he was also an illuminator of missals), in which he would introduce fifteen hundred small figures in a picture two feet eight inches, by six feet five inches in size, and work out every detail with the utmost niceness and care. The reliquary, or " chasse," is a wooden coffer or shrine about four feet in length, its style and form those of a rich Gothic church, its purpose to hold an arm of the saint. The whole exterior is covered with miniatures by Memling, nearly the whole of them giving incidents in the legendary history of St. Ursula, a " virgin princess of Brittany," or of England, who, setting out with eleven thousand virgins — her companions, her lover, and an escort of knights on a pilgrimage to Rome, was, with her whole company, met and murdered, by a horde of heathen Huns, when they had reached Cologne, on their return. Our readers may be aware that the supposed bones of the virgins and St. Ursula form the ghastly adornment of the church founded in her honour at QUINT IN MATS VS. 33 Cologne. It is absolutely filled with bones, built into the walls, stowed under the pavement, ranged in glass cases about the choir. Hans Memling's is a pleasanter commemoration of St. Ursula. QuiNTiN Matsys, the blacksmith of Antwerp, was bom at Louvain about 1460. Though he worked first as a smith, he is said by Kugler to have belonged to a family of painters, which somewhat takes from the romance, though it adds to the probability of his story. Another painter in Antwerp having offered the hand and dowry of his daughter — beloved by Quintin Matsys — as a prize to the painter who should paint the best picture in a competition for her hand, the doughty smith took up the art, entered the lists, and carried off the maiden and her portion from all his more experienced rivals. The vitality of the legend is indicated by the inscription on a tablet to the memory of Quintin Matsys in the Cathedral, Antwerp. The Latin inscriptiuii reads thus in English: " 'Twas love connubial taught the smith to paint." Quintin Matsys lived and died a respected burgher of Antwerp, a member of the great Antwerp painters' guild of St. Luke. He was twice married, and had thirteen children. Whatever might have been his source of inspiration, Quintin Matsys was an apt scholar. His Descent from the Cross, now in the Museum, Antwerp, was the " Descent from the Cross," and the picture in the Cathedral, until superseded by Rubens' master-piece on the same subject. Still Quintin Matsys' version remains, and is in some respects an unsurpassed picture. There is a traditional grouping of this Divine tragedy, and Quintin Matsys has followed the tradition. The body of the Lord is supported by two venerable old men — ^Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus — while the holy women anoint the wounds of the Saviour; the Virgin swooning with grief is supported by St. John. The figures are full of individuality, and their action is instinct with pathos. For this picture Quintin Matsys — popular painter as he was — got only three hundred florins, equivalent to ;$ 125.00 (although, of course, the value of money was much greater in those days). The Joiners' Company, for whom he painted the Descent from the Cross, sold the picture to the city of Antwerp for five times the original amount, and it is said Queen Elizabeth offered the city nearly twenty times the first sum for it, in vain. Quintin Matsys painted frequently half-length figures of the Virgin and Child, an example of which is in the National Gallery. He excelled in the " figure painting" of familiar subjects, then just beginning to be established, affording a token of the direction which the future eminence of the Flemish painters would take. One of his famous pictures of this kind is The Misers, in the Queen's collection at Windsor. Two figures in the Flemish costume of the time, are seated at a toole; before them are a heap of money and a book, in which one is writing with his right hand, while he tells down the money with his left. The faces express craft and cupidity. The details of the ink-horn on the table, and the bird on its perch behind, have the Flemish graphic exactness. ii I: : CHAPTER V. IN EARLY SCHOOLS OF ITALIAN ART. JE have come to the period when Italian art is divided into many schools — Paduan, Venitian, Umbrian, Florentine, Roman, Bolognese, &c., &c. With the schools and their definitions we do not mean to meddle, except it may be to mention to which school a great painter belonged. Another difficulty meets us here. We have been trying so far as we could to give the representative painters in the order of time. We can no longer follow this rule strictly, and the grouping of this chapter is made on the principle of leading our readers up by some of the predecessors who linked the older to the later Italian painters, and by some of the contempo- raries of these later painters, to that central four, Lionardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo, Raphael, and Titian, who occupy so great a place in the history of art. In the brothers Bellini and their native Venice, we must first deal with that excel- lence of colouring for which the Venitian painters were signally noted, while they comparatively neglected and underrated drawing. A somewhat fanciful theory has been started, that as Venice, Holland, and England have been distinguished foi colour in art, and as all those States are by the sea, so a sea atmosphere has some- thing to do with a passion for colour. Within more reasonable bounds, in reference to the Venitians, is the consideration that no colouring is richer, mellower, more exquisitely tinted than that which belongs to the blue Italian sky over the blue Adriatic, with those merged shades of violet, green, and amber, and that ma^^ical soft haze which has to do with a moist climate. The two brothers Gentile and Gian or John Bellini, the latter the more famous of the two, were the sons of an old Venitian painter, with regard to whom the worthy speech is preserved, that he said it was like the Tuscans for son to beat father, and he hoped, in God's name, that Giovanni or Gian would outstrip him, and Gentile, the elder, outstrip both. The brothers worked together and were true and affectionate brothers, encouraging and appreciating each other. Gentile was sent by the Doge at the request of the Sultan — either Mahommed II. or Bajazet II., to Constantinople, where Gentile Bellini painted the portrait of the 34 ADOLPHUS DE GUILDRE THREATENING HIS FATHER. (,From the original painting by Rembrandt.) ir' 'M \ I THE BELLINI'S. 33 Sultan and the Sultana his mother, now in the British Museum. The painter also painted the head of John the Baptist in a charger as an offering — only too suitable — from him to the Grand Turk. The legend goes on to tell that in the course of the presentation of the gift, an incident occurred which induced Gentile Bellini to quit the Ottoman Court with all haste. The Sultan had criticized the appearance of the neck in John the Baptist's severed head, and when Gentile ventured to defend his work, the Sultan proceeded to prove the correctness of his criticism, by drawing his scimitar and cutting off at a stroke the head of a kneeling slave, and pointing to the spouting blood and the shrinking muscle, gave the horrified painter a lesson in prac- tical anatomy. On Gentile's return from the East, he was pensioned by his State, and lived on painting, till he was eighty years of age, dying in 1501. Gian Bellini is said to have obtained by a piece of deceit, which is not in keeping with his manly and honourable character, the secret, naturally coveted by a Venitian, of mixing colours with resin and oil. A Venitian painter had brought the .secret from Flanders, and communicated it to a friend, who, in turn, communicated it to a third painter, and was murdered by that third painter for his pains, so greedy and criminal was the craving, not only to possess, but to be as far as po.ssible the sole possessor of, the grand discovery. Gian Bellini was much less guilty, if he were really guilty. Disguised as a Venitian nobleman, he proposed to sit for his portrait to that Antonella who first brought the secret from Flanders, and while Antonella worked with unsuspicious openness, Gian Bellini watched the process and stole the secret. Gian Bellini lived to the age of ninety, and had among his admirers the poet Ariosto and Albrecht Diirer. The latter saw Gian Bellini in his age, and said of him, when foolish mockers had risen up to scout at the old man, and his art now become classic, " He is very old, but he is still the best of our painters." Gian Bellini had illustrious pupils, including in their number Titian and Giorgione. The portraits of Gentile and Gian, which are preserved in a painting by Gian, show Gentile fair-complexioned and red-haired, and Gian with dark hair. Gian Bellini is considered to have been less gifted with imagination than .some of his great brother artists ; but he has proved himself a man of high moral sense, and while he stopped short at the boundary between the seen and the unseen, it is certain he must still have painted with much of " the divine patience " and devout consecra- tion of all his powers, and of every part of his work, which are the attributes of the earliest Italian painters. When he and his brother began to paint, Venitian art had already taken its distinctive character for open-air effects, rich scenic details in archi- tecture, furniture and dress (said to be conspicuous in commercial communities), and a growing tendency to portraiture. Gian went with the tide, but he guided it to noble results. His simplicity and good sense, with his purity and dignity of mind, were always present. He introduced into his pictures " singing boys, dancing cherubs, glittering thrones, and dewy flowers," pressing the outer world into his service and that of religious art. It is said also that his Madonnas seem " amiable beings imbued with a lofty grace ;" while his saints are " powerful and noble forms." But he never descended to the paltry or the vulgar. He knew from the depths of i 36 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. his own soul how to invest a face with moral grandeur. Especially in his represen- tations of our Saviour Gian Bellini " displays a perception of moral power and grandeur seldom equalled in the history of art." The example given is that of the single figure of the Lord in the Dresden Gallery, where the Son of God, without nimbus, or glory, stands forth as the " ideal of elevated humanity." The greater portion of Gian Bellini's pictures remain in the churches and gal- leries of Venice. But the first great work at which the two brothers in their youth worked in company — the painting of the Hall of Council in the palace of the Doge, with a series of historical and legendary pictures of the Venitian wars with the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa (i 177), including the Doge Ziani's receiving from the Pope the gold ring with which the Doge espoused the Adriatic, in token of perpetual dominion over the sea — was unfortunately destroyed by fire in 1577. Giovanni Bellini's greatest work, now at St. Salvatore, is Christ at Emmaus, with Venitian senators and a Turkish dragoman introduced as spectators of the risen Lord. No praise can exceed that bestowed on Gian Bellini's colouring for its intensity and transparency. " Many of his draperies are like crystal of the clearest and deepest colour," declares an authority; and another states "his best works have a clear jewel brightness, an internal gem-like fire such as warms a summer twilight. The shadows are intense and yet transparent, like the Adriatic waves when they lie out of the sun under the palace bridges." Portrait-painting, just beginning, was established in Venice, its later stronghold, by Gian Bellini. His truthful portrait of the Doge Loredano, one of the earliest of that series of Doges' portraits which once hung in state in the ducal palace. Is now in the National Gallery in London. Of Gentile Bellini, whose work was softer, but less vigorous than his brother's, the best painting e.xtant is that at Milan of St. Mark preaching at Alexandria, in which the painter showed how he had profited by his residence at Constantinople in the introduction of much rich Turkish costume, and of an animal unknown to Europe at the time — a camelopard. LucA d'Egidio di Ventura, called Luca Signorelli, and sometimes LucA da CoRTONA, was born at Cortona in 1441 (?) — some writers say in 1439. He was a pupil of the celebrated Pietro della Francesca, with whom he worked at Arezzo in 1472. Luca was one of the competitors for the prize offered by Pope Sixtus IV. for paintings in the Sistine Chapel in 1480, and his History of Moses is worthy of great praise. In 1484 he returned to Cortona, which he afterwards made his home. His native city still possesses several of his works ; a Deposition from the Cross, and a Last Supper are in the Cathedral. In 1484 Luca painted the altar-piece in the Cappella Sant' Onofrio in the Cathedral of Perugia ; it represents a Madonna enthroned with saints. The design, though hard, is full of power, and displays a beautiful conception of the subject; this picture may justly be considered one of Signorclli's masterpieces. In Siena he painted frescoes in the Convent of Monte Uliveto and in the Petrucci Palace. In Volterra altar-pieces by his hand still exist. The mo.st famous of all Signorelli's paintings arc the frescoes of the Last Judgment in the chapel of San Brizio in the Cathedral of Orvieto. This great work was commenced in 1447 by MANTEGNA. 37 Fra Angclico, who executed the figure of Christ and the attendant saints and angels. After waiting a considerable time for Perugino, the authorities engaged Signorclli to finish it. By the contract, which is dated April 5th, 1499, Signorelli undertook to complete the ceiling for 200 ducats and the walls for 600 ducats, besides free lodgings and two measures of wine, and two quarters of corn per month. The ceiling was finished in 15CX}, but the date of the completion of the walls is not known, though, judging from the time Signorelli took to execute the ceiling, it was probably about 1503. The frescoes comprise the History of the Antichrist; the Resurrection of the Dead ; Hell and Paradise. Great power and vigour are displayed in these paintings, especially in the naked figures and the foreshortening. The exact date of his death is unknown, but he was still living in 1524. Andrea Manteg.na was born near Padua. He was the son of a farmer. His early history, according to tradition, is very similar to that of Giotto. Just as Cima- buc adopted Giotto, Squarcionc, a painter who had travelled in Italy and Greece, and made a great collection of antiques, from which he taught in a famous school of painters, adopted Andrea Mantegna at the early age of ton years. It was long believed that Mantegna, in the end, forfeited the favour of his master by marrying Nicolosa Bellini, the sister of Gentile and G.ian Bellini, wliose father was the great rival of Squarcione ; and farther, that Mantegna's style of painting had been con- siderably influenced by his connection with the Bellini. Modern researches, which have substituted another surname for that of Bellini as the surname of Andrea Mantegna's wife, contradict this story. Andrea Mantegna, a man of much energy and fancy, entered young into the service of the Gonzaga lords of Mantua, receiving from them a salary of 5 1 50 a year and a piece of land, on which the painter built a house, and painted it within and without — the latter one of the first examples of artistic waste, followed later by Tintoret and Veronese, regardless of the fact that painting could not survive in the open air of Northern Italy. Andrea Mantegna had his home at Mantua, except when he was called to Rome to paint for the Pope, Innocent VIII. An anecdote is told by Mrs. Jameson ■of this commission. It seems the Pope's payments were irregular ; and one day when he visited his painter at work, and his Holiness asked the meaning of a certain allegorical female figure in the design, Andrea answered, with somewhat audacious point, that he was trying to represent Patience, The Pope, understanding the allu- sion, paid the painter in his own coin, by remarking in reply, " If you would place Patience in fitting company, you would paint Discretion at her side." Andrea took the hint, said no more, and when his work was finished not only received his money, but was munificently rewarded. Andrea Mantegna had two sons and a daughter. One of his sons painted with his father, and, after Andrea Mantegna's death, completed some of his pictures. Andrea Mantegna's early study of antique sculpture moulded his whole life's work. He took great delight in modelling, in perspective, of which he made himself a master, and in chiaro-scuro, or light and shade. Had his powers of invention and grace not kept pace with his skill, he would have been a stiff and formal worker ; as t i li 38 rif£ TABLE BOOK OF ART. it was, he carried the austerity of sculpture into painting, and his greatest work, the " Triumph of Julius CjEsar," would have been better suited for the chiselled frieze of a tcuiplc than it is for the painted frieze of the hall of a palace. Yet he was a great leader and teacher in art, and the true proportions of his drawing are grand, if his colouring is harsh. Mantegna's "Triumph of Julius Caesar" is in England at Hanipton Court, having been bought from the Duke of Mantua by Charles I. These cartoons, nine in number, are sketches in water-colour or distemper on paper fixed on cloth. They are faded and dilapidated, as they well may be, considering the siightness of the materials and their age, about four hundred years. At the same time, they are, after the cartoons of Raphael (which formed part of the same art collections of Charles I.), perhaps the most valuable and interesting relic of art in England. The .series of the "Triumph " contain the different paits, originally separated by pillars, of a long and s})lendid procession. There are trumpeters and standard bearers, the statues of the gods borne aloft, battering-rams and heaps of glittering armour, trophies of conquest in huge vases filled with coin, garlanded o.xen, and elephants. The second last of the series, presents the ranks of captives forming part of tlic show, rebellious men, submissive women, and unconscious children — a moving picture. In the last of the series comes the great conqueror in his chariot, a youth in the crowd following him, carrying his banner, on which is inscribed Ciusar's nota- ble de.".patch, "Veni, vidi, vici ;" "I came, I saw, I conquered." Another of Mantegna's best pictures is in distemper — in which, and on fresco, Mante;;na chiefly painted, — and is in the Louvre, Paris. It is the Madonna of Vic- tory, so called from its being painted to commemorate the deliverance of Italy from the French army under Charles VIII., a name which has acquired a sardonic mean- ing fom the ultimate destination of the picture. This picture — which represents the Virgin and Child on a throne, in an arbour of fruit and flowers, between the arch- angels, Michael and St. Maurice, in complete armour, with the patron saints of Mantua and the infant St. John in the front, and the Marquis Ludovico of Mantua and his wife, Isabella D'Este, kneeling to return thanks — was painted by Mantegna at the age of seventy years ; and, as if the art of the man had mellowed with time, it is the softest and tenderest of his pictures in execution. .\ beautiful Madonna of Mantegna's, still later in time, is in the National Gallery of I-ngland. Do.mi:nic() Giiiri-AXIujo was properly Domenico Ricordi, but inherited from his father, a goldsmith in Florence, the by-name of Ghirlandajo or Garland-maker — a distinctive appel'ation said to have been acquired by the elder man from his skill in making silver garlands for fhe heads of Florentine women and children. Domenico Ghirlandajo worked at his father's cr.-ift till he was twenty-four years of age, when, having in the mean time evinced gn_at cU;verness in taking the likenesse;. of the frequenters of Ghirlandajo the ekicr's shop, the future painter abandoned the gold- smith's trade for art pure and simple. He - on vindicated the wisdom of the step which he had taken by giving proofs of something of the strength of Ma.saccio, united with a reflection of the feeling of Fra Ar.gelicn. Ghirlandajo was summoned soon to Rome to paint in the Sistine Chapel, after- ■I — ^ ■•"»-. ^1 in* t { If f * GHIRLANDAJO. 39 wards to be so glorious ; but his greatest works were done in the prime of his manhood, in his native city, Florence, where he was chosen as the teacher of Michael Angelo, who was apprenticed to Ghirlandajo for three years. While still in the flower of his age and crowned with golden opinions, being, it is said, with effusion, " the delight of his city," Ghirlandajo died after a short illness. In Ghirlandajo's time Florence had reached her meridian, and her citizens outvied each other in the magnificence of their gifts to their fair mother city. Ghirlandajo was fitted to be their painter; himself a generous-spirited artist, in the exuberance of life and power, he wished that his fellow-citizens would give him all the walls of the city to cover with frescoes. He was content with the specified sum for his painting, desiring more the approbation of his employers than additional crowns. His genius lying largely in the direction of portrait painting, he introduced frequently the portraits of contemporaries, causing them to figure as spectators of his sacred scenes. One of these contemporaries thus presented, was Amerigo Vespucci, who was to give his name to our continent. Another was a Florentine beauty, a woman of rank, Ginevra de Benci. Ghirlandajo was lavish in his employment of rich Florentine costumes and architecture. He even made the legends of the saints and the histories of the Bible appear as if they had happened under the shadow of Brunelleschi's duomo and Giotto's campanile, and within sound of the flow of the Arno. In the peculiar colouring used in fresco Ghirlandajo excelled. He painted a chapel for a Florentine citizen, Francesco Sasetti, in the church of the Trinita, Florence, with scenes from the life of St. Francis. Of these, the death of St. Francis, surrounded by the sorrowing monks of his order, with the figures of Francesco Sasetti and his wife. Madonna Nera, on one side of the picture, is con- sidered the best. As a curious illustration of the modernizing practice of Ghirlandajo, he has painted an old priest at the foot of the bier, chanting the litanies for the dying, with spectacles on his nose, the earliest known representation of these useful articles. Ghirlandajo painted during four years the choir of the church of Santa Maria Novella, Florence, for one of the great Florentine benefactors, Giovanni Tornabuone, and there are to be seen some of Ghirlandajo's finest frescoes from the history of John the Baptist and the Virgin, A Madonna and Child with angels in the English National Gallery is attributed to Ghirlandajo. Francesco Francia, or II Fraxcia, was born at Bologna, and was the son of a carpenter, whose surname was Raibaloni, but Francesco assumed the name of his master, a goldsmith, and worked himself at a goldsmith's trade till he was forty years of age. Indeed he may be said never to have relinquished his connection with the trade, and certainly he was no more ashamed of it than of his calling as a painter, for he signed himself indiscriniately " goldsmith" and " painter," and sometimes whimsi- cally put "goldsmith" to his paintings, and "painter" to his jcwclleiy. He was a famous designer of dies for coins and medals, and it is quite probable, as a country- man of his own has sought to prove, that he was the celebrated type-cutter, known as " Francesco da Bologna." But it is with Francesco " pictor" that we have to do. i imm^MjtiiS^m.. i ! I I i ! i! I CHAPTER VI. LIQNARDO DA VINCI,— MICH AEL ANGELO,— RAPHAEL— TI TIAN, JE have arrived at tlie triumph of art, not, indeed, in unconsciousness and devotion, but in fulness and completeness, as shown in the works of four of the greatest painters and men whom the world ever saw. Of the first, Lionardo da Vinci, born at Vinci in the neighbourhood of Florence, 1452, it may be said that the many-sidedness which characterized Italians — above all Italians of his day — reached its height in him. Not only was he a painter, a sculptor, an architect, and engineer, but also one of the boldest speculators of the generation which gave bii-th to Columbus, and was not less original and ingenious than he was universally accomplished — an Admirable Crichton among painters. There is a theory that this many-sidedness is a proof of the greatest men, indicating a man who might have been great in any way, who, had his destiny not found and left him a painter, would have been equally great as a philosopher, a man of science, a poet, or a statesman. It may be so ; but the life of Lionardo tends also to illustrate the disadvantage of too wide a grasp and diffusion of genius. Beginning much and finishing little, not because he was idle or fickle, but because his schemes were so colossal and his aims so high, he spent his time in preparation for the attainment of an excellence which constantly eluded him. Lionardo was the pioneer, the teacher of others, rather than the performer of his own dreams ; and the life of the proud, passionate man was in many respects a life of failure and mortification. This result might, in a sense, have been avoided ; but Lionardo, great as he was, proved also one of those unfortunate men whose noblest efforts are met and marred by calamities which could have hardly been foreseen or prevented. Lionardo da Vinci was the son of a notary, and early showed a taste for painting as well as for arithmetic and mathematics. He was apprenticed to a painter, but he also sedulously studied physics. He is said, indeed, to have made marvellous guesses at truth, in chemistry, botany, astronomy, and particularly, as helping him in his art, anatomy. He was, according to other accounts, a man of noble person, like 44 LIONARDO DA VINCI. 45 Ghiriandajo. And one can scarcely doubt this who looks at Lionardo's portrait painted by himself, or at any engraving from it, and remarks the grand presence of the man in his cap and furred cloak; his piercing wistful eyes; stately outline of nose ; and sensitive mouth, unshaded by his magnificent flowing beard. He was endowed with surprising bodily strength, and was skilled in the knightly exercises of riding, fencing, and dancing. He was a lover of social pleasure, and inclined to indulge in expensive habits. While a lad he amused himself by inventing machines for swimming, diving, and flying, as well as a compass, a hygrometer, &c. &c. In a combination from the attributes of the toads, lizards, bats, &c. &c., with which his studies in natural history had made him familiar, he painted a nondescript monster, which he showed suddenly to his father, whom it filled with horror. But the horror did not prevent the old lawyer selling the wild phantasmagoria for a large sum of money. As something beyond amusement, Lionardo planned a canal to unite Florence with Pisa (while he executed other canals in the course of his life), and suggested the daring but not impossible idea of raising en masse, by means of levers, the old church of San Giovanni, Florence, till it should stand several feet above its original level, and so get rid of the half-sunken appearance which destroyed the effect of the fine old building. He visited the most frequented places, carrying always with him his sketch-book, in which to note down his observations; he followed criminals to execution in order to witness the pangs of despair ; he invited peasants to his house and told them laughable stories, that he might pick up from their faces the essence of comic expression. A mania for truth — alike in great and little things — possessed him. Lionardo entered young into the service of the Gonzaga family of Milan, being, according to one statement, chosen for the office which he was to fill, as the first singer in imprmnsatore of his time (among his other inventions he devised a peculiar kind of lyre). He showed no want of confidence in asserting his claims to be elected, for after declaring the various works he would undertake, he added with regard to painting — " I can do what can be done, as well as any man, be he who he may." He received from the Duke a salary of five hundred crowns a year. He was fourteen year? at the court of Milan, where, among other works, he painted his Ccnacolo, or " Last Supper," one of the grandest pictures ever produced. He painted it, contrary to the usual practice, in oils upon the plastered walls of the refectory of the Domini- can convent, Milan. The situation was damp, and the material used proved so unsuitable for work on plaster, that, even before it was exposed to the reverses which in the course of a French occupation of Milan converted the refcctorj' into a stable, the colours had altogether faded, and the very substance of the picture was crumbling into ruin. The equestrian statue of the old Duke of Milan by Lionardo excited so much delight in its first freshness, that it was carried in triumph through the city, and during the progress it was accidentally broken. Lionardo began another, but funds failed for its completion, and after^vards the French used the original clay model as a target for their bowmen. Lionardo returned to Florence, and found his great rival, Michael Angelo, H Fli 46 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. I I already in the field. Both of the men, conscious of mighty gifts, were intolerant of rivalry. To Lionardo especially, as being much the elder man, the originator and promoter of many of the new views in art which his opponent had adopted, the competition was very distasteful, and to Michael Angelo he used the bitter sarcasm which has been handed down to us, " I was famous before you were born." Nevertheless Lionardo consented to compete with Michael Angelo for the (uinting in fresco of one side of the council-hall, by the order of the gonfaloniere for the year. Lionardo chose for his subject a victory of the Florentines over the Milanese, while Michael Angelo took a scene from the Pisan campaigns. Not only was the work never done (some say partly because Lionardo would delay in order to make experiments in oils) on account of political troubles, but the very cartoons of the two masters, which all the artists of the day flocked to see, have been broken up, dispersed, and lost ; and of one only, that of Michael Angelo, a small copy remains, while but a fragment from Lionardo's was preserved in a copy made by Rubens. Lionardo went to Rome in the pontificate of Leo X., but there his quarrel with Michael Angelo broke out more violently than ever. The Pope too, who loved better a gentler, more accommodating spirit, seemed to slight Lionardo, and the great painter not only quitted Rome in disgust, but withdrew his services altogether from ungrateful Italy. At Pavia Lionardo was presented to Francis L of France, who, zealous in patronizing art, engaged the painter to follow Francis's fortunes at a salary of seven hundred crowns a year. Lionardo spent the remainder of his life in France. His health had long been declining before he died, aged sixty-seven years, at Cloux, near Amboise. He had risen high in the favour of Francis. From this circumstance, and the generous, chivalrous nature of the king, there doubtless arose the tradition that Francis visited Lionardo on his death-bed ; and that, while in the act of gently assisting him to raise himself, the painter died in the king's arms. Court chronicles do their best to demolish this story, by proving Francis to have been at St. Germain on the day when Lionardo died at Cloux. Lionardo was never married, and he left what worldly goods he possessed to a favourite scholar. Besides his greater works, he filled many MS. volumes, some with singularly accurate studies and sketches, maps, plans for machines, scores for music (three volumes of these are in the Royal Library at Windsor), and some with writing, which is written — probably to serve as a sort of cipher — from right to left, instead of from left to right. One of his writings is a valuable " Treatise " on painting ; other writings are on scientific and philosophic subjects, and in these Lionardo is believed to have anticipated some of the discoveries which were reached by lines of close reasoning centuries later. LionaiJo's genius as a painter was expressed by his uniting, in the very highest degree, truth and imagination. He was the shrewdest observer of ordinary life, and he could also realize the higher mysttiies and profounder feelings of human nature. He drew exceedingly well. Of transparent lights and shadows, he was the greatest master ; but he was not a good colourist. His works are very rare, and many which are attributed to him are the pictures of his scholars, for he founded one of the great ■il > m y ■pr-'H 1 • •«» Ml I I II J •T2I E C C C '^^ S": T TE , LION A R DO DA VINCI. 47 schools of Milan or Lombardy. There is a tradition that he was, as Holbein was once believed to be, ambidextrous, or capable of using his left hand as well as his right, and that he painted with two brushes — one in each hand. Thus more than fully armed, Lionardo da Vinci looms out on us like a Titan through the mists of centuries, and he preaches to us the simple homily, that not even a Titan can com- mand worldly success ; that such men must look to higher ends as the reward of their travail, and before undertaking it they must count the cost, and be prepared to renounce the luxurious tastes which clung to Lionardo, and which were not for him or for such men as he was. Lionardo's great painting was his Last Supper, of which, happily, good copies exist, as well as the wreck of the picture itself. The original is now, after it is too late, carefully guarded and protected in its old place in the Dominican convent of the Madonna della Grazia, Milan. The assembled company sit at a long table, Christ being seated in the middle, the disciples forming two separate groups on each side of the Saviour. The gradations of age are preserved, from the tender youth of John to the grey hairs of Simon ; and all the varied emotions of mind, from the deepest sorrow and anxiety to the eager desire of revenge, are here portrayed. The well-known words of Christ, " One of you shall betray me," have caused the liveliest emotion. The two groups to the left of Christ are full of impassioned excitement, the figures in the first turning to the Saviour, those in the second speaking to each other, — horror, astonishment, suspicion, doubt, alternating in the various expressions. On the other hand, stillness, low whispers, indirect observations, are the prevailing expressions in the groups on the right. In the middle of the first group sits the betrayer ; a cunning, sharp profile, he looks up hastily to Christ, as if speaking the words, " Master, is it I ?" while, true to the Scriptural account, his left hand and Christ's right hand approach, as if unconsciously, the dish that stands before them. A sketch of the head of Christ for the original picture, which has been preserved on a torn and soiled piece of paper at Brera, expresses the most elevated seriousness, together with Divine gentleness, pain on account of the faithless disciple, a full pre- sentiment of his own death, and resignation to the will of the Father. It gives a faint idea of what the master may have accomplished in the finished picture. During his stay at Florence Lionardo painted a portrait of Ginevra Benci ; and a still more famous portrait by Lionardo was that of Mona Lisa, the wife of his friend Giocondo. This picture is also known as La Jaconde. We wish to call atten- tion to it because it is the first of four surpassingly beautiful portraits of women which four great painters gave in succession to the world. The others, to be spoken of afterwards, are Raphael's Fornarina, Titian's Bella Donna, and Rubens' Straw Hat. About the original of La Jaconde there never has been a mystery such as there has been about the others. At this portrait the unsatisfied painter worked at intervals for four years, and when he left it he pronounced it still unfinished. La Jacondc is now in the Louvre in an utterly ruined condition, yet a judge says of it that even now " there is something in this wonderful head of the ripe southern beauty, with its airy background of a rocky landscape, which exercises a peculiar &scination over the mind." hv iHi lit i' > 'I 1 1 lie ii 48 T//£ TABLE BOOK OF ART. The fragment of the cartoon in which Lionardo competed with Michael Angelo, may be held to survive in the fine painting by Rubens called the Battle of the Standard. MiCFiAEL Angelo Buonarroti, born at Castel Capresc near Arezzo in Tuscany, 1475, is the next of these universal geniuses, a tern which we are accustomed to hold in contempt, because we have only seen it exemplified in parody. After Lionardo, indeed, Michael Angelo, though he was also painter, sculptor, architect, engineer, poet, musician, might almost be regarded as restricted in his pursuits, yet still so manifold was he, that men have loved to make a play upon his name and call him " Michael the angel," and to speak of him as of a king among men. Michael Angelo was of noble descent, and though his ancient house had fallen into comparative poverty, his father was mayor or podesta of Chiusi, and governor of the castle of Chiusi and Capresc. Michael Angelo was destined for the profession of the law, but so early vindicated his taste for art, that at the age of thirteen years he was apprenticed to Ghirlandajo. Lorenzo the Magnificent was then ruling Florence, and he had made a collection of antique models in his palace and gardens, and constituted it an academy for young artists. In this academy Michael Angelo developed a strong bias for sculpture, and won the direct patronage of the Medici. To this period of his life belong two characteristic anecdotes. In a struggle with a fellow-student, Michael Angelo received a blow from a mallet in his face, which, breaking bone and cartilage, lent to his nose the rugged bend, " The bar of Michael Angelo." An ill-advised member of the Medician house, while entertaining a party of guests during a snow-storm, sent out the indignant artist to make a snow man within sight of the palace windows. Those anecdotes bear indirectly on the ruling qualities of Michael Angelo — qualities so integral that they are wrought into his marble and painted on his canvas — proud independence and energy. Before going farther we wish to guard against a common misapprehension of Michael Angelo — iliat he was a haught}', arrogant man, absolutely narrow in his half- idolatrous, half-human worship of art. Michael Angelo was severe in place of being sweet ; he was impatient of contradiction ; he was careless and scornful of ceremony ; and in his very wrath at flattery and hypocrisy, he was liable to sin against his own honv ty and sincerity. But he was a man with a lofty sense of duty and a profound reverence for God. He was, unlike Lionardo, consistently simple, frugal, and tem- perate, throughout his long life. If he held up a high standard to others, and enforced it on them with hardness, he held up a higher standard to himself, and en- forced it on himself more hardly still. He was a thoroughly unworldly man, and actions which had their root in unworldliness have been ascribed unjustly to a kind of Lucifer pride. Greed, and the meanness of greed, were unknown to him. He worked for the last ten years of his life (under no less than five different Popes) at his designs for St. Peter's, steadfastly refusing pay for the work, saying that he did it for the honour of God and his own honour. He made many enemies and suffered MICHAEL ANGELO, 49 from their enmity, but I cannot learn that, except in one instance, he was guilty of doahng an unworthy blow at his opponents. He was generous to his scholars, and without jealousy of them, suffering them to use his designs for their own pur- poses. He said, " I have no friends, I need none, I wish for none ;" but that was in feeling himself " alone before Heaven ;" and of the friends whom he did possess, he loved them all the more devotedly and faithfully, because they were few in number. One need only be told of his love for his old servant Urbino, whom he presented with two thousand crowns to render him independent of service ; and when the ser- vant was seized with his last illness Michael Angelo nursed him tenderly, sleeping in his clothes on a couch that he might be ready to attend his patient. When his cares were ended, Michael Angelo wrote to a correspondent — " My Urbino is dead — to my infinite grief and sorrow. Living, he served me truly; and in his death he taught me how to die. I have now no other hope than to rejoin him in Paradise." Of Michael Angelo's more equal friendship with Vittoria Colonna we hope our readers will read at leisure for themselves. No nobler, truer friendship ever existed. It began when the higii-born and beautiful, gifted, and devout Marchesa de Pescara — most loyal of wives and widows, was forty-eight, and Michael Angelo sixty-four years of age. After a few years of privileged intercourse and correspondence, which were the happiest years in Michael Angelo's life, it ended for this world when he stood mourning by her lifeless clay. " I was born a rough model, and it was for thee to re- form and re-make me," the great painter had written humbly of himself to his liege lady. Italy, in Michael Angelo's time, as Germany in Albert Diirer's, was all quickened and astir with the new wave of religious thought which brought about the Reforma- tion. Ochino and Peter Martyr, treading in the footsteps of Savonarola, had preached to eager listeners, but " in Italy men did not adopt Lutheranism, though they ap- proached it;" and in all the crowd of great Italian artists of the day, Michael Angelo shows deepest traces of the conflict — of its trouble, its seriousness, its nobleness. He only, among his brethren, acted out his belief that the things of the world sank into insignificance before those thoughts of God and immortality which were alone fully worthy of the soul. And it was, as to a religious work for which he was fitted, that he at last gave himself up to the raising of St. Peter's. We shall have next in order the life of a man who had all the winning qualities which Michael Angelo wanted, but we shall hardly, through the whole range of history, find a nobler man than Mi- chael Angelo. After his first visit to Rome, 1496, Michael Angelo executed his colossal statue of David. In 1 503 he entered into the competition with Lionardo for the painting of one end of the Council hall, in Florence, which has been already mentioned. For this object he drew as his cartoon, " Pisan soldiers surprised while bathing by a sud- den trumpet call to arms." The grand cartoon, of which only a small copy exists, was said to have been torn to pieces as an act of revenge by a fellow-sculptor, whom Michael Angelo had offended. Michael Angelo was invited to Rome by Julius II. in 1504 to aid in erecting the I 50 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. unapproachable monument which the Pope projected raising for himself. Then com- menced a series of contentions and struggles between the imperious and petulant Pope and the haughty, uncompromising painter, in which the latter certainly had the best of it. At one time in the course of the quarrel, Michael Angelo departed from i<.ome without permission or apology, and stoutly refused to return, though followed hotly by no less than five different couriers, armed with threats and promises, and urged to make the reparation by his own gonfalonierc. At last a meeting and a reconciliation between Michael Angelo and the Pope were effected at Bologna. Michael Angelo designed for Pope Julius II. not only the statue of Pope Julius at Bologna, which was finally converted into a cannon, and turned against the very man whose effigy it had originally presented, but also for that tomb which was never completed, the famous figure of Moses seated, grasping his beard with one hand. While employed at the tomb, Michael Angelo, then in his fortieth year, was desired by the Pope to undertake the decoration of the ceiling of the Sistiiie Chapel. Here, again, the hand of an enemy is said to have been at work. Michael Angelo, with the first place as a sculptor, was inexperienced in fresco painting; while Raphael, who was taking the place of Lionardo as Michael Angelo's most formidable rival (yet whom it is said Michael Angelo pointed out as the fittest painter of the ceiling), and who was then engaged in painting the Vatican chambers, had already achieved the utmost renown. It was anticipated by secret hostility, so records tradition, that Michael Angelo would fail signally in the unaccustomed work, and that his merit as an artist would pale altogether before that of Raphael's. We need hardly write how entirely malice was balked in the verdict to which posterity has set its seal. Michael Angelo brought artists from Florence to help him in his great under- taking, for over the chapel, whose walls had already been painted by older artists — among them Ghirlahdajo, was an enormous vault of 150 feet in length by 50 in breadth, which Michael Angelo was required to cover with designs representing the Fall and Redemption of Man. But the painter was unable to bear what seemed to him the bungling attempts of his assistants; so dismissing them all and destroying their work, he shut himself up, and working in solitude and secrecy, set himself to evolve from his own inner consciousness the gigantic scenes of a tremendous drama. In 22 months (or, as Kugler holds, in three years, including *''«' time spent on the designs) he finished gloriously the work, the magnitude of which one must see to comprehend. On All Saints' Day, 15 12, the ceiling was uncovered, and Michael Angelo was hailed, little though he cared for such clamorous hailing, as a painter in- deed. For this piece of work Michael Angelo received 3000 crowns. Pope Julius died, and was succeeded by Leo X. of the Medician house, but, in spite of early associations as well as of mother country, Michael Angelo was no more acceptable to the Pope — a brilliantly polished, easy-tempered man of the world, who fijled the chair of St. Peter's, than Lionardo had been. Leo X. greatly preferred Ra- phael, to whom all manner of pleasantness as well as of courteous deference was na- tural, to the two others. At the same time, Leo employed Michael Angelo, though it was more as an architect than as a painter, and rather at Florence than at Rome. At Florence Michael Angelo executed for Pope Clement VII., another Medici, the i! 'hen com- ilant Pope J the best om Koiiie kved hotly 1 urged to 3nciliation el Angclo which was figy it had he famous year, was lie Chapel, el Angelo, c Raphael, i rival (yet nling), and hicved the lition, that is merit as write how eat under- ;t artists — by 50 in ;enting the seemed to destroying limself to 3US drama. :nt on the ust see to Michael painter in- ise, but, in IS no more vorld, who ferred Ra- ce was na- lo, though at Rome. Vledici, the t—fT' ' 1 III 1 1 •i I bi ' I! ! MICHAEL ANGEL O. 51 mortuary chapel of San Lorenzo, with its s!x great statues, those of the cousins Lo- renzo de Medici and Giuliano do Medici, the first called by the Florentines " II Pen- siero," or " Pensive Thought," with the four colossal recumbent figures named re- spectively the Night, the Morning, the Dawn, and the Twilight. In 1537 Michael Angelo was employed by his fellow-citizens to fortify his native city against the return of his old patrons the Medici, and the city held out for nine months. Pope Paul III., an old man when elected to the popedom, but bent on signalizing his pontificate with as splendid works of art as those which had rendered the reigns of his predecessors illustiious, summoned Michael Angelo, now grown old, being upwards of sixty years, and though reluctant to accept the commission to finish the decoration of the Sistine Chapel, painted on the wall, at the upper end, "The Last Judgment " The picture is forty-seven feet high by forty-three wide, and it occupied the painter eight years. It was during its progress that Michael Angelo entered on his friendship with Vittoria Colonna. For the chapel called the Paolina or Pauline Chapel Michael Angelo also painted less-known frescoes, but from that time he devoted his life to St. Peter's. He had said that he would take the old Pantheon and " suspend it in air," and he did what he said, though he did not live to see the great cathedral completed. His sovereign, the Grand Duke of Florence, endeavoured in vain with magnificent offers to lure the painter back to his native city. Michael Angelo protested that to leave Rome then would be "a sin and a shame, and the ruin of the greatest religious monument in Christian Europe." Michael Angelo, like Lionardo, did not marry; he died at Rome in 1563, in his eighty-ninth year. His nephew and principal heir, by the orders of the Grand Duke of Florence, and it is believed according to Michael Angelo's own wish, removed the painter's body to Florence, where it was buried with all honours in the church of Santa Croce there. The traits which recall Michael Angelo personally to us, are the prominent arch of the nose, the shaggy brows, the tangled beard, the gaunt grandeur of a figure like that of one of his prophets. Michael Angelo's will was very simple. " I bequeath my soul to God, my body to the earth, and my possessions to my nearest relations." While Michael Angelo lived, one Pope rose on his approach, and seated the painter on his right hand, and another Pope declined to sit down in his painter's pre- sence; but the reason given for the last condescension, is that the Pope feared that the painter would follow his example. And if the Grand Duke Cosmo uncovered before Michael Angelo, and stood hat in hand while speaking to him, we may have the ex- planation in another assertion, that " sovereigns asked Michael Angelo to put on his cap, because the painter would do it unasked." The solitary instance in which Michael Angelo is represented as taking an unfair advantage of an antagonist, is in connection with the painter's rivalry in his art with Raphael. Michael Angelo undervalued the genius of Raphael, and was disgusted by what the older man considered the immoderate admiration bestowed on the younger. A favourite pupil of Michael Angelo's was Sebastian Del Piombo, who being a Wiii- ! i 52 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. tian by birth, was an excellent colourist. For one of his pictures— the very " Raising of Lazarus " now in the National Gallery, London, which the Pope had ordered at the same time that he had ordered Raphael's "Transfiguration" — it is rumoured that Michael Angelo gave the designs and even drew the figures, leaving Sebastian the credit, and trusting that without Michael Angelo's name appearing in the work, by the help of his drawing in addition to Sebastian's superb colouring, Raphael would be eclipsed, and that by a painter comparatively obscure. The unwarrantable inference that the whole work was that of one painter, con- stituted a stratagem altogether unworthy of Michael Angelo, and if it had any exist- ence, its getting wind disappointed and foiled its authors. When the story was re- peated to Raphael, his sole protest is said to have been to the effect that he was glad that Michael Angelo esteemed him so highly as to enter the lists with him. In the decoration of the Sistine Chapel the pictures from the Old Testament, be- ginning from the altar, are — 1. The Separation of Light and Darkness. 2. The Creation of the Sun and Moon. 3. The Creation of Trees and Plants. 4. The Creation of Adam. 5. The Creation of Eve. 6. The Fall and the Expulsion from Paradise. 7. The Sacrifice of Noah. 8. The Deluge. 9. The Intoxication of Noah. The lower portion of the ceiling is divided into triangles, occupied by the Pro- phets and Sibyls in solemn contemplation, accompanied by angels and genii. Begin- ning from the left of the entrance, their order is : — 1. Joel. 2. Sibylla Erythraea. 3. Ezekiel. 4. Sibylla Persica. 5. Jonah. 6. Sibylla Libyca. 7. Daniel. 8. Sibylla Cumasa.* 9. Isaiah. 10. Sibylla Delphica. Near the altar are : Right, The Deliverance of the Israelites by the Brazen Serpent Left, The Execution of Haman. Near the entrance arc: Right, Judith and Holofernes. Left, David and Goliath. Michael Angelo was thirty-nine years of age when he painted the ceiling of the Sistine. When he began to paint the " Day of Judgment" he was above sixty years of age, and his great rival, Raphael, had already been dead thirteen years. The picture of the " Day of Judgment," with much that renders it marvellous and awful, has a certain coarseness of conception and execution. The moment chosen • See Illustration. RAPHAEL. 53 sing :dat that the :.by dbe con- xist- i re- glad , be- Pro- gin- the cars ous )sen is that in which the Lord says, " Depart from me, ye cursed," and the idea and even attributes of the principal figure arc taken from Orcagna's oil painting in the Campo Santo. But with all Michael Angelo's advantages, he has by no means improved on the original idea. He has robbed the figure of the Lord of its transcendent majesty; he has not been able to impart to the ranks of the blessed the look of blessedness which " II Beato " himself might have conveyed. The chief excellence of the picture is in the ranks of ihe condemned, who writhe and rebel against their agonies. No wonder that the picture is sombre and dreadful. A comparison and a contrast have been instituted between Michael Angelo and Milton, and Raphael and Shakespeare. There may be something in them, but, as in the case of broken metaphors, they will not bear being pushed to a logical conclusion or picked to pieces. The very transparent comparison which matches Michael An- gelo with his own countryman, Dante, is after all more felicitous and truer. Michael Angelo with Lionardo are the great chiefs of the Florentine School. Raphael Sanzio, or Santi of Urbino, the head of the Roman School, was one of those very exceptional men who seem born to happiness, to inspire love and only love, to pass through the world making friends and disarming enemies, who are fully armed to confer pleasure while almost incapable of either inflicting or receiving pain. To this day his exceptional fortune stands Raphael's memory in good stead, since for one man or woman who yearns after the austere righteousness and priceless tender- ness of Michael Angelo, there are ten who yield with all their hearts to the gay, sweet gentleness and generosity of Raphael. No doubt it was also in his favour as a painter, that though a man of highly cultivated tastes, " in close intimacy and cor- respondence with most of the celebrated men of his time, and interested in all that was going forward," he did not, especially in his youth, spend his strength on a variety of studies, but devoted himself to painting. While he thus vindicated his share of the breadth of genius of his country and time, by giving to the world the loveliest Madonnas and Child-Christs, the most dramatic of battle-pieces, the finest of portraits, his noble and graceful fertility of invention and matchless skill of execution were confined to and concentrated on painting. He did not diverge long or far into the sister arts of architecture and sculpture, though his classic researches in the excavations of Rome were keen and zealous (a heap of ruins having given to the world in 1 504 the group of the Laocoon), so that a writer of his day could record that " Raphael had sought and found in Rome another Rome." Raphael was born in the town of Urbino, and was the son of a painter of the Umbrian School, who very early destined the boy to his future career, and promoted his destination by all the efforts in Giovanni Santi's power, including the intention of sending away and apprenticing the little lad to the best master of his time, Perugino, whom we ha"e already described. Raphael's mother died when he was only eight years of age, and his father died when he was no more than eleven years, before the plans for his education were put into action. But no stroke of outward calamity, or loss — however severe, could annul Raphael's birthright of universal favour. His step- mother, the uncles who were his guardians, his clever and perverse master, all joined in a common love of Raphael and determination to promote his interests. ill m '! i 54 rff£ TABLE BOOK OF ART. Raphael at the age of twelve years went to Perugia to work under Perugino, and remained with his master till he was nearly twenty years of age. In that interval he painted industriously, making constant progress, always in the somewhat hard, but finished, style of Perugino, while already showing a predilection for what was to prove Raphael's favourite subject, the Madonna and Child. At this period he painted his famous Lo Sposalizio or the " Espousals," the marriage of the Virgin Mary with Joseph, now at Milan. In 1504 he visited Florence, remaining only for a short time, but making the a:quaintanco of Fra Bartolommeo and Ghirlandajo, seeing the cartoons of Lionardo and Michael Angelo, and from that time displaying a marked improvement in drawing. Indeed nothing is more conspicuous in Raphael's genius in contra-distinction to Michael Angelo's, than the receptive character of Raphael's mind, his power of catching up an impression from without, and the candour and humility with which he availed himself unhesitatingly of the assistance lent him by others. Returning soon to Florence, Raphael remained there till 1508, when he was twenty-five years, drawing closer the valuable friendships he had already formed, and advancing with rapid strides in his art, until his renown was spread all over Italy, and with reason, since already, while still young, he had painted his Madonna of the Gold- finch, in the Florentine Gallery, and his La Belle Jardiniere, or Madonna in a garden among flowers, now in the Louvre. In his twenty-fifth year Raphael was summoned to Rome to paint for Pope Julius II. Our readers will remember that Michael Angelo, in the abrupt severity of his prime of manhood, was soon to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel for the same despotic and art-loving Pope, who had brought Raphael hardly more than a stripling to paint the " Camcrc" or " Stance" chambers of the Vatican. The first of the halls which Raphael painted (though not the first in order) is called the Camera della Segnatiira (in English, signature), and represents Theology, Poetry, Philosophy, with the Sciences, Arts, and Jurisprudence. The second is the Stanza d' Eliodoro, or the room of Heliodorus, and contains the grandest painting of all, in the expulsion of Heliodorus from the Temple of Jerusalem (taken from Maccabees), the Miracle of Bolscna, Attila, king of the Huns, terrified by the appari- tion of St. Peter and St. Paul, and St. Peter delivered from prison. The third stanza painted by Raphael is the Stanza dell' Incendio (the conflagration), so called from the extinguishing of the fire in the Borgo by a supposed miracle, being the most con- spicuous scene in representations of events taken from the lives of Popes Leo III. and IV. ; and the fourth chamber, which was left unfinished by Raphael, and completed by his scholars, is the Sala di Constantino, and contains incidents from the life of the Emperor Constantine, including the splendid battle-piece between Constantine and Maxentius. At these chambers, or at the designs for them, Raphael worked at intervals, during the popedoms of Julius II., who died in the course of the painting of the Camere, and Leo X., for a period of twelve years, till Raphael's death in 1520, after which the Sala di Constantino was completed by his scholars. Raphael has also left in the Vatican a series of small pictures from the Old Testament, known as Raphael's Bible. This scries decorates the thirteen cupolas of Il I'! -^- > II ^ M :|i! \ 1 < i i ou RAPHAEL. 55 the " Loggic," or open galleries, running round three sides of an open court. Another work undertaken by Raphael should have still more interest for us. Leo X., resolving to substitute woven for painted tapestry round the lower walls of the interior of the Sistine Chapel, commanded Raphael to furnish drawings to the Flemish weavers, and thence arose eleven cartoons, seven of which have been pre- served, have become the property of England, and are the glory of the Kensington Museum. The subjects of the cartoons* in the seven which have been saved, are The Death of Ananias, Ely mas the Sorcerer struck with Blindness, The Healing of the Lame Man at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple, The Miraculous Draught of Fishes, Paul and Barnabas at Lystra, St. Paul Preaching at Athens, and The Charge to St. Peter. The four cartoons which are lost were, The Stoning of St. Stephen, The Conversion of St. Paid, Paul in Prison, and The Coronation of the Virgin. In those cartoons figures above life-size were drawn with chalk upon strong paper, and coloured in distemper, and Raphael received for his work four hundred and thirty gold ducats (about $3,200), while the Flemish weavers received for their work in wools, silk, and gold, fifty thousand gold ducats. The designs were cut up in strips for the weavers' use, and while some strips were destroyed, the rest lay in a warehouse at Arras, till Rubens became aware of their existence, and advised Charles I. to buy the set, to be employed in the tapestry manufactory established by James I. at Mortlake. Taken to England in the slips which the weavers had copied, the fate of the cartoons was still precarious. Cromwell bought them in Charles I.'s art collection, and Louis XIV. sought, but failed, to re-buy them. They fell into farther neglect, ahd were well-nigh forgotten, when Sir Godfrey Knellcr recalled them to notice, and induced William III. to have the slips pasted together, and stretched upon linen, and put in a room set apart for them at Hampton Court, whence they were transferred, within the last ten years, for the greater advantage of artists and the public, to Kensington Museum. The woven tapestries for which the cartoons were designed had quite as chequered a career. In the two sacks of Rome by French soldiers, the tapestries were seized, carried off, and two of them burnt for the bullion in the thread. At last they were restored to the Vatican, where they hang in their faded magnificence, a monument of Leo X. and of Raphael, An additional set of ten tapestry cartoons were supplied to the Vatican by Raphael's scholars. Raphael painted for the Chigi family in their palace, which is now the Villa Farncsina, scenes from the history of Cupid and Psyche, and the Triumph of Galatea, subjects which show how the passion for classical mythology that distinguishes the next generation, was beginning to work. To these last years belong his Madonna di San Sisto, so named from its having been painted for the convent of St. Sixtus at Piacenza, and his last picture, the Transfiguration, with which he was still engaged when death met him unexpectedly. Raphael, as the Italians say, lived more like a " principe " (prince) than a " pittorc " (f iter). He had a house in Rome, and a villa in the neighbourhood, and on his * See Engraving on StceL .■: : ^■ W 1 .I'l 56 T/fE TABLE BOOK OF ART. death left a considerable fortune to his heirs. There has not been wanting a rumour that his life of a principe was a dissipated and prodigal life ; but this ugly rumour, even if it had more evidence to support it, is abundantly disproven by the nature of Raphael's work, and by the enormous amount of that work, granting him the utmost assistance from his crowd of scholars. He had innumerable commissions, and retained an immense school from all parts of Italy, the members of which adored their master. Raphael had the additional advantage of having many of his pictures well engraved by a contemporary engraver named Raimondi. Like Giotto, Raphael was the friend of the most distinguished Italians of his day, including Count Castiglione, and the poet Ariosto. He was notably the warm friend of his fellow-painters both at home and broad, with the exception of Michael Angelo. A drawing of his own, which Raphael sent, in his kindly interchange of such sketches, to Albert Diirer, is preserved at Nuremberg. The sovereign princes of Italy, above all Leo X., were not contented with being munificent patrons to Raphael, they treated him with the most marked consideration. The Cardinal Bib- bicna proposed the painter's marriage with his niece, ensuring her a dowry of three thousand gold crowns, but Maria di Bibbiena died young, ere the marriage could be accomplished ; and Raphael, who was said to be little disposed to the match, did not long survive her. He caught cold, as some report, from his engrossing personal superintendence of the Roman excavations ; and, as others declare, from his courtly assiduity in keeping an appointment with the Pope, was attacked by fever, and died on his birth-day, April 6th, 1520, having completed his thirty-seventh year. All Rome and Italy mourned for him. When his body lay in state, to be looked at and wept over by multitudes, his great unfinished picture of the Transfiguration was hung above the bed. He was buried in a spot chosen by himself in his lifetime, and, as it happened, not far from the resting-place of his promised bride. Doubts having been raised as to Raphael's grave, search was made, and his body was ex- humed in 1833, and re-buried with great pomp. Raphael's life and that of Rubens form the ideal painter's life — bountiful, splendid, unclouded, and terminating ere it sees eclipse or decay — to all in whom the artistic temperament is united to a genial, sensuous, pleasure-loving nature. Raphael was not above the middle height, and slightly made. He was sallow in colour, with brown eyes, and a full yet delicate mouth ; but his beautiful face, like that of Shakspeare, is familiar to most of us. With regard to Raphael's face, the amount of womanliness in it is a striking characteristic. One hears sometimes that no man's character is complete without its share of womanliness : surely Ra- phael had a double share, for womanliness is the most distinctive quality in his face, along with that vague shade of pensiveness which we find not infrequently, but strangely enough, in those faces which have been associated with the happiest spirits and the brightest fortunes. Of Raphael's Madonnas, we should like to speak of three. The Madonna di San Sisto : " It represents the Virgin standing in a majestic attitude ; the infant Saviour enthroned in her arms ; and around her head a glory of innumerable cherubs melting into light. Kneeling before her we see on one side St. Sixtus, on the other St. THE CARTOONS OF RAPHAEL. 57 Barbara, and beneath her feet two heavenly cherubs gaze up in adoration. In exccii tion, as in design, this is probably the most perfect picture in the world. It is painted throughout by Raphael's own hand ; and as no sketch or study of any part of it was ever known to exist, and as the execution must have been, from the thinness and delicacy of the colours, wonderfully rapid, it is supposed that he painted it at once on the canvas — a creation rather than a picture. In the beginning of the last century the Elector of Saxony, Augustus III., purchased this picture from the monks of the convent for the sum of sixty thousand florins (530,000), and it now forms the chief boast and ornament of the Dresden Gallery. The Madonna del Cardellino (our Lady of the Goldfinch): The Virgin is sitting on a rock, in a flowery meadow. Behind are the usual light and feathery trees, growing on the bank of a stream, which passes off to the left in a rocky bend, and is crossed by a bridge of a single arch. To the right, the opposite bpnk slopes upward in a gentle glade, across which is a village, backed by two distant mountain-peaks. In front of the sitting matronly figure of the Virgin are the holy children, our Lord and the Baptist, one on either side of her right knee. She has been reading, and the approach of St. John has caused her to look off her book (which is open in her left hand) at the new comer, which she docs with a look of holy love and gentle- ness, at the same time caressingly drawing him to her with her right hand, which touches his little body under the right arm. In both hands, which rest across the Virgin's knee, he holds a captive goldfinch, which he has brought, with childish glee, as an offering to the Holy Child. The infant Jesus, standing between his mother's knees, with one foot placed on her foot, and her hand, with the open book, close above his shoulder, regards the Baptist with an upward look of gentle solemnity, at the same time that he holds his bent hand over the head of the bird. The third. Madonna delta Sedia, or our Lady of the Chair. The Virgin, very young and simple-looking in her loveliness, is seated on a low chair, clasping the Divine Child, who is leaning in weariness on her breast, St. John with his cross is standing — a boy at the Virgin's knee. The meek adoring tenderness in the face of the mother, the holy ingenuousness in that of the child, are expressions to be long studied. Whole clusters of anecdotes gather round the cartoons, which, as they have to do with the work and not the worker, we leave untouched, with regret. But we must forewarn our readers by mentioning some of the refuted criticisms which have been applied to the cartoons. Reading the criticisms and their answers ought to render us modest and wary in "picking holes" in great pictures, as forward and flippant critics, old and young, are tempted to pick them. With regard to the Miraculous Draught of Fishes, a great outcrj' was once set up that Raphael had made the boat too little to hold the figures he has placed in it. But Raphael made the boat little advisedly ; if he had not done so, the picture would have been " all boat," a con- tingency scarcely to be desired ; on the other hand, if Raphael had diminished the figures to suit the size of the boat, these figures would not have suited those of the other cartoons, and the cartoon would have lost greatly in dignity and effect. In the cartoon of the " Death of Ananias" carping objectors were ready to sug- gest that Raphael had committed an error in time by introducing Sapphira in the 58 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. n ! I !1 i' I 1 1 ! ''I background counting her ill-gotten gains, at the moment when her no less guilty husband has fallen down in the agonies of death. It was hours afterwards that Sap- phira entered into the presence of the apostles. But we must know that time and space do not exist for painters, who have to tell their story at one stroke, as it were. In the treating of the Lume Man at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple, some authorities have fcmd fault with Raphael for breaking the composition into parts by the introduction of pillars, and, farther, that the shafts are not straight. Yet by this treatment Raphael has concentrated the principal action in a sort of frame, and thus has been enabled to give more freedom of action to the remaining figures in the other divisions of the picture. TiTi.VN, or TiziANO Vecelli, the greatest painter of the Venitian School, reckoned worthy to be named with Lionardo, Michael Angclo and Raphael, was born of good family at Capo del Cadore in the Venitian State, in 1477. There is a tradition that while other painters made their first essays in art with chalk or char- coal, the boy Titian, who lived to be a glorious colourist, made his earliest trials in painting with the juice of flowers. Titian studied in Venice under the Bellini, and had Giorgione, who was born in the same year, for his fellow-scholar, at first his friend, later his rival. When a young man Titian spent some time in Ferrara ; there he painted his Bacchus and AriaJue, and a portrait o{ Lucrcsia Borgia. In 15 12, when Titian was thirty-five years of age, he was commissioned by the ^^ itians to continue the works in the great council-hall, which the advanced age of Gian Bellini kept him from finishing. Along with this commission Titian was appointed in 15 16 to the office of la Sanscria, which gave him the duty and privilege of painting the portraits of the Doges as long as he held the office; coupled with the office was a salary of one hundred and twenty crowns a year. Titian lived to paint five Doges ; two others, his age, equal to that of Gian Bellini, prevented him from painting. In 1 5 16, Titian painted his greatest sacred picture, the Assumption of the Virgin. In the same year he painted the poet Ariosto, who mentions the painter with high honour in his verse. In 1530, he was at Bologna, where there was a meeting between Charles V. and Pope Clement VII., when he was presented to both princes. Charles V. and Philip II. became afterwards great patrons and admirers of Titian, and it is of Charles V. and Titian that a legend, to which we have already referred, is told. The Emperor, visiting the painter while he was at work, stooped down and picked up a pencil, which Titian had let fall, to the confusion and distress of the painter, when Charles paid the princely compliment, " Titian is worthy of being served by Caesar." Titian painted many portraits of Charles """,, and of the members of his house. As Maximilian had created Albrecht Diirer a noble of the Empire, Charles V. created Titian a Count Palatine, and a Knight of the Order of St. lago, with a pension, which was cpntinued by Philip II., of four hundred crowns a year. It is doubtful whether Titian ever visited the Spain of his patrons, but Madrid possesses forty-three of his pictures, among them .some of his finest works. Titian went to Rome in his later years, but declined to abandon for Rome the painter's native Venice, which had lavished her favours on her son. He lived in great splendour, paying annual summer visits to his birth-place of Cadore, and occa- \ \ ••:^ iJHf / ^m ^i W V A / * - ♦ \ \ i^^ ■ '■ %'■• ■^ ,«* 4 m #'.■.•.. "^ /■• ^ t 'mtrl <'J/ ' > '^ ' -I. ■ 1 \ ■■> f ■ ■ J- ' # <■'■ a' 1 QUINTUS CURTIUS LEAPING INTO THE GULF. (From the original paintiitg hy B. R. Haydon.) i d I I >' ffl TITIAN. 59 sionally dwelling again for a time at Ferrara, Urbino, Bologna. In two instances he joined the Emperor at Augsburgh. When Henry III. of France landed at Venice, he was entertained en grand seigneur by Titian, then a very old man ; and when the king asked the price of some pictures which pleased him, Titian at once presented them as a gift to his royal guest. Titian married, as has been recently ascertained, and had three children, — two sons, the elder a worthless and scandalous priest ; the second a good son and accom- plished painter ; and a daughter, the beautiful Lavinia,* so often painted by her father, and whose name will live with his. Titian survived his wife thirty-six years; and his daughter, who had married, and was the mother of several children, six years. His second son and fellow-painter died of the same plague which struck down Titian, in 1566, at the ripe age of eighty-nine years. Towards the close of Titian's life, there was none who even approached the old Venitian painter in the art which he practiced freely to the last. Painting in Italy was everywhere losing its pre-eminence. It had become, even when it was not so nominally, thoroughly secularized ; — and with reason, for the painters by their art- creed and by their lives were fitter to represent gods and goddesses, in whom no man believed, than to give earnest expression to a living faith. Even Titian, great as he was, proved a better painter of heathen mythology than of sacred subjects. But within certain limits and in certain directions, Titian stands unequalled. He has a high place for composition and for drawing, and his colouring was, beyond comparison, grand and true. He was great as a landscape painter, and he was the best portrait painter whom the world ever saw. In his painting is seen, not, indeed, the life of the spirit, but the life of the senses " in its fullest power ;" and in Titian there was such large mastery of this life, that in his freedom there was no violence but the calmness of supreme strength, the serenity of perfect satisfaction. His painting was the reflection of the old Greek idea of the life of humanity as a joyous existence, so long as the sun of youth, maturity, health, and good fortune shone without even that .strain of foreboding pain, and desperate closing with fate, which troubled the bliss of ancient poet or sculptor. A large proportion of Titian's princi- pal pictures are at Venice and Madrid. We have written, in connection with Lionardo's Jaconde and Raphael's Forna- rina, of Titian's Bella Donna. He has various Bellas, but, as far as we know, this is the Bella Donna — " a splendid, serious beauty, in a red and blue silk dress," in the Sciarra Gallery, Rome. We have read that critics were at one time puzzled by the singular yellow, almost straw colour, appearing profusely in the hair of the women of the Venitian painters of thi 5 time, and that it was only by consulting contemporary records that it was learnt that the Venitian women indulged in the weajc and false vanity of dyeing their black hair a pale yellow — a process, in the course of which the women drew the hair through the crown of a broad -brimmed hat, and spreading it over the brim, submitted patiently to bleaching the hair in a southern sun. *See Illustration. h issa*. ■I: I ti CHAPTER VII. GERMAN ART.—ALBRECHT DURER. [LBRECHT DURER carries us to a different country and a different race. And he who has been called the father of German painting is thoroughly German, not only in his Saxon honesty, sedateness, and strength, but in the curious mixture of simplicity, subtlety, hom.H- ness, and fantasticalness, which are still found side by side in Ger- man genius. Albrecht Diirer was born at that fittest birth-place for the great German painter, quaint old Nuremberg, iti 147 1. He was the son of a goldsmith, and one of a family of eighteen children; a home school in which he may have learnt early the noble, manly lessons of self-denial and endurance, which he practised long and well. He was trained to his father's trade until the lad's bent became so unmis- takable that he was wisely transferred to the studio of a painter to serve his appren- ticeship to art. When the Nuremberg apprenticeship v/as completed, Albrecht followed the Ger- man custom, very valuable to him, of serving another and a "wandering apprentice- ship," whicii carried him betimes through Germany, the Netherlands, and Italy, paint- ing and studying as he went. He painted his own portrait about this time, showing himself a comely, pleasant, and pleased young fellow, in a curious holiday suit of plaited low-bodied shirt, jerkin, and mantle across the shoulder, with a profusion of long fair curls, of which he was said to have been vain, arranged elaborately on each side, the blue eyes looking with frank confidence out of the blonde face. He painted himself a little later with the brave kindly face grown mature, and the wisdom of the spirit shining in the eyes, and weighing on the brows. On his return from his travels, Albrecht Diirer's father arranged his son's mar- riage with the daughter of a musician in Nuremberg. The inducement to the mar- riage seems to have been, on the father's part, the dowry, and on the son's the beauty of the bride. How unhappy the union proved, without any fault of Albrecht's, has been the theme of so many storie., that we are half inclined to think that some of us must be more familiar with Albrecht Diirer's wedded life than with any other part of his history. It seems to us, that there is considerable exaggeration in these stories, 60 i ALBRECHT DURER. 6i for granted that Agnes Diirer was a shrew and a miser, was Albrecht Diircr the man to be entirely, or greatly, at such a woman's mercy ? Taking matters at their worst, dishonour and disgrace did not come near the great painter. He was esteemed, as he deserved to be; he had a true friend in his comrade Pirkheimer; he had his art; he had the peace of a good conscience ; he had the highest of all consolations in his faith in Heaven. Certainly it is not from Albrecht himself that the tale of his domestic wretchedness has come. He was as manfully patient and silent as one might have expected in a man upright, firm, and self-reliant as he was tender. We do not think it is good for men, and especially for women, to indulge in egotistical sen- timentality, and to believe that such a woman as Agnes Diirer could utterly thwart and wreck the life of a man like Albrecht. It is not true to life, in the first place; and it is dishonouring to the man, in the second ; for although, doubtless, there are men who are driven to destruction or heart-broken by even the follies of women, these men have not the stout hearts, the loyal spirits, the manly mould of Albrecht Diirer. In 1506 Albrecht Diirer re-visited Italy alone, making a stay cf eight months in Venice, where he lormed his friendship with the old Gian Bellini, and where Albrecht had the misfortune to show the proofs and plans of his engravings to the Italian en- graver, Raimondi, who engraved Raphael's paintings, and who proved himself base enough to steal and make use of Albrecht Diirer's designs to the German's serious loss and inconvenience. A little later Albrecht Diirer, accompanied by his wife, visited the Netherlands. The Emperor Ma.ximilian treated the painter with great favour, and a legend sur- vives of their relations : — Diircr was painting so large a subject that he required steps to reach it. The Emperor, who was present, required a nobleman of his suite to steady the steps for the painter, an employment which the nobleman declined as un- worthy of his rank, when the Emperor himself stepped forward and supplied the necessary aid, remarking, " Sir, understand that I can make Albrecht a noble like and above you" (Maximilian had just raised Albrecht Diirer to the rank of noble of the empire), " but neither I nor any on^ else can make an artist like him." We may compare this story with a similar ana later story of Holbein and Henry VIII., and with another earlier story, having a slight variation, of Titian and Charles V. The universality of the story shakes one's belief in its individual application, but at least the legend, with different names, remains as an indication of popular homage to genius. Among Albrecht Diirer's greatest paintings are his Adoration of the Trinity at Vienna, his Samson and the Lion * at Florence, and that last picture of The Apostles presented by Albrecht Diirer to his native city, " in remembrance of his career as an artist, and at the same time as conveying to his fellow-citizens an earnest and lasting exhortation suited to that stormy period." The prominence given to the Bible in the picture, points to it as the last appeal in the great spiritual struggle. With regard to this noble masterly picture, Kugler has written, " Well might the artist now close his eyes. He had in this picture attained the summit of art ; here he stands side by side with the greatest mai-ters known in history." ;ii ^See Illustration. y CHAPTER VIII. LATER ITALIAN ART. 'lORGIO BARBARELLI, known as " Giorgionc."— in Italian, "big," or, as it has been better translated, " strapping George " — was born at Castelfranco, in Trcviso, about 1477, the same year in which Titian was born. Nothing is known of his youth before he came to Venice and studied in the school of Gian Bellini along with Titian. The two men were friends in those days, but soon quarrelled, and Giorgione's early death completed their separation. Titian was impatient and arrogant ; Giorgione seems to have been one of those proud, shy, sensitive men — possibly morbidly sensitive, with whom it is always difficult to deal ; but it is recorded of him, as it is not recorded of his great compeer, that Giorgione was frank and friendly as an artist, however moody and fitful he might be as a man. Giorgione soon became known. According to one account, he painted the facade of the house which he dwelt in, for an advertisement of his abilities as a painter, a device which was entirely successful in procuring him commissions ; but unfortunately for posterity, these were frequently to paint other facades, sometimes in company with Titian ; grand work, which has inevitably perished, if not by fire, by time and by the sea-damp of Venice, for to Venice Giorgione belonged, and there is no sign that he ever left it. He had no school, and his love of music and society — the last taste found not seldom, an apparent anomaly, in silent, brooding natures — might tend to withdraw him from his art. lie has left a trace of his love for music in his pictures of " Concerts" and of " Pastorals," in which musical performances are made prominent. In Giorgione, with his romantic, idealizing temperament, genre pictures took this form, while he is known to have painted from Ovid and from the Italian tales of his time. ric was employed frequently to paint scenes on panels, for the richly ornamented Vcnitian furniture. Giorgione was not without a bent to realism in his very idealism, and is said to have been the first Italian painter who " imitated the real texture of stuffs and painted draperies from the actual material." (>2 • '•', J MU II 1 ft : r i i ! ■ i 1 CORREGGIO. 63 Giorgione died at the early age of thirty-three years, in 151 1. One account represents him as dying of the plague, others attribute his death to a sadder cause. He is said to have had a friend and fellow-painter who betrayed their friendship, nd carried off" the girl whom Giorgione loved. Stung to the quick by the double falsehood, the tradition goes on to state that Giorgione foil into despair with life and all it held, and so died. Giorgione's historic pictures are rare, his sacred pictures rarer still ; among the last is a Finding of Moses, now in Milan. In portraits Giorgione has only been exceeded by Titian. In the National Gallery, London, there is an unimportant St. Peter the Martyr, and a finer Maestro di Capella giving a music lesson, which Kugler assigns to Giorgione, though it has been given elsewhere to Titian. The " refined voluptuousness and impassioned sombre- ness" of Giorgione's painting have instituted a comparison between him and Lord Byron as a poet. CoRREGGio's real name was Antonio Ai.legri, and he has his popular name from his birth-place of Correggio, now called Reggio ; although at one time there existed an impression that Correggio meant " correct," from the painter's exceedingly clever feats of fore-shortening. His father is believed to have been a well-to-do tradesman, and the lad is said to have had an uncle a painter, who probably influenced his nephew. But Correggio had a greater master, though but for a very short time, in Andrea Mantegna, who died when Correggio was still a young boy. Mantcgna's son kept on his father's school, and from him Correggio might have received more regular instruction. He early attained excellence, and in the teeth of the legends which lingered in Parma for a full century, his genius received prompt notice and patronage. He married young, and from records which have come to light he received a considerable portion with his wife. The year after his marriage, when he was no more than si.x and-twenty, Correggio was appointed to paint in fresco the cupola of the church of San Giovanni at Parma, and chose for his subject the Ascension of Christ; for this work and that of the Coronation of the Virgin, painted over the high altar, Correggio got five hundred gold crowns, equivalent to $'j,<,oo. He was invited to Mantua, where he jjainted from the mythology for the Duke of Mantua. Indeed, so far and wide had the preference for mythological subjects penetrated, that one of Corrcggio's earliest works was Diana returning from the Chase; painted for the decoration of the parlour of the Abbess of the convent of San Paulo, Parma. Correggio was a second time called upon to paint a groat religious work in Parma — this time in the cathedral, for which he selected The Assnin/'tion of the Virgin, A few of the cartoons for these frescoes were discovered thirty or forty years ago, rolled up and lying forgotten in a garret in Parma; they arc now in the British Museum. In 1533, Correggio, then residing in his native town, was one of the witnesses to the marriage of his sovereign, the Lord of Correggio. In the following year the painter had engaged to paint an altar-piece for an employer, who paid Correggio in advance twenty-five gold crowns, but the latter dying very soon afterwards, in the 64 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. forty-first year of his age, 1534, his father, who was still alive, was in circumstances to repay the advance on the picture, which had not been painted. Correygio is said to have been modest and retiring in disposition, and this, together with the fact that, like Giorgionc, he did not have a school, has been suggested as the source of the traditions which prevailed so long in Italy. These traditions described the painter as a man born in indigent circum.stances, living obscurely in spite of his genius (there is a picture of Correggio's in England, which was said to have been given in payment for his entertainment at an inn), and leading to tlie end a life of such ill-requited labour, that having been paid for his last picture in copper money, and being under the necessity of carrying it home in order to relieve the destitution of his family, he broke down under the burden, and overcome by heat and weariness, drank a rash draught of water, which caused fever and death. The story, disproven as it is, is often alluded to still, and remains as a foil to those flattering and courtly anecdotes which we have been repeating of royal and imperial homage paid to Diirer, Titian, and Holbein. We fancy the last-mentioned stories may have grown from small beginnings, and circulated purely in the artist world ; but that the former is an utterance of the ingrained persuasion of the great world without, that art as a means of livelihood is essentially non-remunerative in the sense of money-getting. Modest as Corrcggio may have been, he was not without pride in his art. After looking for the first time on the St. Cecilia of Raphael, Correggio is reported to have exclaimed with exultation, "And I too am a painter." He left behind him on his death a son and a daughter, the former living to be a painter of no great name. In the picture of Correggio in the attitude of painting, painted by himself, we see a handsome spare man with something of a romantic cavalier air, engaged in his chosen art. In the National Gallery, Lontion, there are fine specimens of Correggio. There is an Eccc Homo: Christ crowned with thorns, holding out his bound hands, with a Roman soldier softening into pity, Pilate hardening in indifference, and the Virgin fainting with sorrow. There is also Tlic llrgiti xvitJi the Basket, so named from the little basket in front of the picture; and A Holy Family; and there is a highly- esteemed picture from a mythological subject, Mercury teaching Cupid to read in the presence of Venus. We must return to the Venice of Titian, and see how his successors, with much more of the true painter in them than the fast degenerating scholars of other Italian schools, were mere men, if great men, matched witli Titian. Tintoretto is only Tintoretto or Tintoret because his father was a dyer, and " II Tintoretto" is in Italian, " the little dyer." Tintoretto's real name was one more in keeping with his pretensions, Jacopo Robusti. He was born in Venice, in 15 12, and early foreshadowed his future career by drawing all kinds of objects on the walls of his father's dye-house, an exercise which did not offend or dismay the elder Robusti, but, on the contrary, induced him to put the boy into the school of Titian, where Tintoretto only remained a short time. Titian did not choose to impart what could be imparted of his art to his scholars, and, in all probability, Tintoretto was no TINTORETTO. 65 , deferential and submissive scholar. There is a tradition that Titian expelled this scholar from his academy, saying of the dyer's son, that " he would never be anything but a dauber." Tintoret was not to be daunted. He lived to be a bold-tempered, dashing man, and he must have been defiant, even in his boyhood, as he was swaggering in his youth, when he set up an academy of his own, and inscribed above the door, " The drawing of Michael Angelo and the colouring of Titian." Me had studied and taught himself from casts and theories since he left the school of Titian, and tlien, with worldly wisdom equal to his daring, he commenced his artistic career by accepting every commission, good or bad, and taking what pay he could get for his work ; but, unfortunately for him and for the world, he executed his work, as might have been expected, in the same headlong, indiscriminate spirit, acquiring the name of " II Furioso " from the rapidity and recklessness of his manner of painting. Often he did not even give himself the trouble of making any sketch or design of his pictures beforehand, but composed as he painted. Self-confident to presumption, he took for his inspirations the merest impulses, and grii^vously marred the effect of his unquestionably grand genius by gross haste and carelessness. He was a successful man in his day, as so energetic and unscrupulous a man was likely enough to be, and his fellow-citizens, who saw principally on the surface,* were charmed beyond measure by his tremendous capacity for invention, his dramatic vigour, his gorgeous, rampant richness and glare; or, by contrast, his dead dullness of ornament and colouring ; and were not too greatly offended by his untruthfulness in drawing and colouring, and the notable inequality of his careless, slovenly, powerful achievements. Yet even Tintoret's fascinated contemporaries said of him, that he " used three pencils : one gold, one silver, one lead." Naturally Tintoretto painted an immense number of pictures, to only three of which, however, he appended his name. These were. The Crucifixion, and Tlie Miracle of the Slave, two of fifty-seven pictures which he painted for the school of St. Roch alone, in Venice ; and the other was the Marriage at Caiia, in the church of Santa Maria della Saluto, Venice. There is an authentic story toid of Tintoretto in his age, which is in touching contrast to what is otherwise known of the man. Besides a son, Dominico, who was a painter, Tintoret had a daughter. Marietta, very dear to him, who was also a painter — indeed, so gifted a portrait painter, as to have been repeatedly invited to foreign courts to practise her art, invitations which she declined, because .she would not be parted from her father. To Tintoret's great grief, this daughter died as she was thirty years of age, and her father was in his seventy-eighth year. When her end was unmistakably near, the old man took brush and canvas and .struggled desperately to preserve a last impression of the beloved child's face, over which death was cast- ing its shadow. * It is due to Tintoret to say, that there are modern critics, who look below tlie surface, and are at this date deeply enamoured of his pictures. I'! w t i i: !! f II t > n ■ 66 T//£ TABLE BOOK OF ART. Tintoretto died four years later, in 1594. His portrait is that of a man who holds h's head high and resolutely ; he has, strange to say, a somewhat commonplace face, with its massive nose, full eye, short curly beard and hair. The forehead is not very broad, but the head is " long," as Scotch people say, and they count long- headedness not only an indication of self-esteem, but of practical shrewdness. Tintoret's power was native, and had received little training ; it is a proof of the strength of that power that he could not quench it. Paul Cahmaki of Verona is better known as Paul Veronese. He was born in Verona in 1530, and was the son of a sculptor. He was taught by his father to draw and model, but. abandoned sculpture for the sister art of painting, which was more akin to his tastes, and which he followed in the studio of an uncle who was a fair painter. Quitting Verona, Paul Veronese repaired to Venice, studying the works of Titian and Tintoret, and settling in their city, finding no want of patronage cvi 11 in a ficlil so fully appropriated before he came to lake his place there. His lirst great work was the painting of the church of St. Sebastian, with scenes from the history of ICsthor. Whether he chose the subject or whether it was assigned to him, it belonged even more to him than to Tintoret, for Veronese was the most magnificent of the magnificent Venitian painters. I*"rom that date he was kept in constant employment by the wealthy and luxurious Venitians. He visited Rome in the suite of the Venitian ambassador in 1563, when he was in his thirty-fourth year, and he was invited to Spain to assist in the decoration of the Escurial by Philip II., but refused the invitation. Veronese is said to have been a man of kindly spirit, generous and devout. In painting for churches and convents, he would consent to receive the smallest remuneration, sometimes not more than the price of his colours and canvas. For his fine picture now in the Louvre, the Marriage of Caua, he is believed not to have had more than $200 in our money. He died when he was but fifty-eight years of age, in 1588. lie had married and left sons who were painters, and worked with their father. He had a brother, Benedotto, who was also a painter, and who is thought to have painted many of the architectural backgrounds to Veronese's pictures. Veronese's portrait, which he has left us, gives the idea of a more earnest and impressionable man than Tintoret. A man in middle n^c, bald-headed, with a fur- rowed brow, cheeks a little hollowed, head slightly thro-.vn back, and a somewhat anxious as well as intent expression of face; what o' He dress is seen, being a plain doublet with turned-over collar, and a cloak arranged in a fold across the breast, and hanging over the right .shoulder like a shepherd's " maud " or plaid. Looking at the painting, and hearing of Paul Veronese's amiability and piety, one has little diflfi- culty in thinking of the magnificent painter, as a single-hearted, simple-minded man, neither vain nor boastful, nor masterful save by the gift of genius. )f a man who commonplace jrchead is not y count lony- 1 shrewdness, i proof of the c was born in father to draw lich was more fho was a fair the works of ia[^e cvm in a His lirst great mi the history ed to him, it ist magnificent )t in constant ne in the suite year, and he Philip II., but devout. In the smallest canvas. For not to have ight years of worked with lo is thought ictures. earnest and , with a fur- a somewhat jeing a plain e breast, and ooking at the little diflfi- minded man, THE WHEATFIELD. {/■'rum the original priming by JohH Constable, R. A. i t CHAPTER IX. CA RRA CCI—G UID O RENI—D OMENICHINO— SALVATOR ROSA. iJN the fhlling away of the schools of Italy, and especially of the fol- lowers of Michael Angelo and Raphael, into mannerism and exaggeration, fitly expressed in delineation of heathen gods and goddesses, there arose a cluster of painters in the North of Italy who had considerable influence on art. The Carracci included a group of painters, the founders of the later Bolognese School. Lodovico, the elder of the three, was born at Bologna, 1555. He was educated as a painter, and was so slow in his education, that he received from his fellow-scholars the nickname of "II Bue" (the ox), But his perseverance surmounted e.-ery obstacle. He visited the different Italian towns, and studied the works of art which they contained, arriving at the conclusion that he might acquire and combine the excellences of each. This com- bination, which could only be a splendid patch-work without unity, was the great aim of his life, and was the origin of the term eclectic applied to his school. Its whole tendency was to technical excellence, and in this tendency, however it might achieve its end, painting showed a marked decline. As an example of the motives and objects supplied by the school, we must borrow some lines from a sonnet of the period written by Atyostino Carracci : "Let him, who a good painter would be, Acquire the drawing of Rome, Vcnitian action, and Venitian shadow. And the dignified colourii .p; of Loml t, v The terrible manner of Michael Angelo, Titian's trutli and nature, The sovercig 1 purity of Corrcggio's style, And the true symmetry of Raphael ; • • . And a little of Pirmegiaiio's grace, But without so much study and toil, Let him only apply himself to imitate the works. Which our Nicolicno has left us here." 67 \ 1; i , ! 68 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. \ I I,!! Lodovico opened a school of painting at Bologna, in which he was for a time largely assisted by his cousins. He died 1619. Agostino Carracci, cousin of Lodovico, was born at Bologna in 1559. His father was a tailor, and Agostino himself began life as a jeweller. He became a painter and an engraver in turn, devoting himself chiefly to engraving. Towards the beginning of the seventeenth century he was with his more famous brothci, Anni- bale, at Rome, where he assisted in painting the Farnese Gallery, designing ami exe- cuting the two frescoes of Galatea and Aurora with such success, according to his contemporaries, that it was popularly said that " the engraver had surpassed the painter in the Farnese." Jealousy arose between the brothers in consequence, and they separated, not before Annibale had perpetrated upon Agostino a small, but malicious, practical joke, which has been handed down to us. \gostino was fond of the society of people of rank, and Annibale, aware of his brother's weakness, took the opportunity, when Agostino was surrounded by some of his aristocratic friends, to present him with a caricature of the two brothers' father id mother, engaged in their tailoring work. Agostino died at Parma when he was a little over forty, and was buried in the cathedral there, in 1602. Annibale, Agostino's younger brother, was born in 1 560. It was intended by his parents that he should follow their trade and be a tailor, but he was persuaded by his cousin Lodovico to become a painter. After visiting Parma, Venice, and Bologna, he worked with his cousin and teacher for ten years. Annibale was invited to Rome by the Cardinal Odcardo Farnese, to decorate the great hall of his palace in the Piazza Farnese, with scenes from the heathen mythology, for which work he received a monthly salary of ten scudi, about 520, with maintenance for himself and two servants, and a farther gift of five hundred scudi. It was a parsimonious pay- ment, find the parsimony is said to have preyed on the mind and affected the health of Annibale, and a visit to Naples, where he, in common with not a few artists, suffered from the jealous persecutions cf the Neapolitan painters, completed the breaking up of his constitution. He painted, with the assistance of Albani, the frescoes in the chapel of San Diego in San Gi.icomo degli Spagnole, and pressed upon his assistant more than half of his pny. Annibale's health had already given way, and after a long illness he died, when forty-nine years of age, at Rome, 1609, and was buried near Raphael in the Pantheon. The merit of the Carracci lay in their power of e.vecution, and in a certain " bold naturalism, or rather animalism," which they added to their able imitations, for their pictures are not so much their own, as After Titian, After Corregqio, &c. In this intent regard to style, and this perfecting of means to an end, thought and its expression were in a manner neglected. Yet to the Carracci, and their school, is owing a certain studied air of solemnity and sadness in Ecce Homos, and Pietas, which, in proportion to its art, has a powerful effect on many beholders, who prefer conventionality to freedom ; or rather, who fail to distinguish conventionality in its traces. Annibale was the most original while the least learned of the Carracci ; yet, even of Annibale, it could be said that he lacked enthusiasm in his subjects. His 1l GUIDO. 69 :d in s, fn Its Its [is best productions are his mythological subjects in the Farnese Palace. A celebrated picture of his, that of the Three Marys (a dead Christ, the Madonna, and the two other Marys), has been exhibited at the Manchester Academy for Exhibition of Fine Art, where it attracted the greatest attention and admiration. We believe this was not only because Ann'bale Carracci in the Three Marys does attain to a most piteous mournfulness of scn'.iment, but because such work as that of the Carracci finds readiest acceptance from a general public, which delights in striking, superficial effects. The same reason, in conjunction with the decline of Italian art, may accouiit for the great number of the Carracci school and followers. Annibale Carracci was one of the first who practised landscape painting and genre pictures, such as The Greedy Eater, as separate branches of art. Two of An- nibale's landscapes are in the National Gallery, London. GuiDO Rem, commonly called "Guido," was born at Bologna, 1575. His father was a musician, and Guido was intended for the same calling, but finally became a painter and student in the school of the Carracci. He followed Annibale Carracci to Rome, and dwelt there for twenty years. He obtained great repute and favour, but taking offence at some supposed injustice, he left Rome, and settled at last in Bologna, where he established a large school. Though he made great sums of money, which might have enabled him to live in the splendour which he coveted, on account of his addiction to gambling and his grossly extravagant habits, he was con- stantly n debt, and driven to tax his genius to the utmost, and to sell its fruits for what .ney would bring. Irrespective of what he owed to himself, his art, and to the giver of all good gifts. He died at Bologna, and was buried with much pomp in the church of San Dominico, 1642. Of Guido we hear that he had tliree styles : the first, after the vigorous manner ot Michael Angelo; the second, in the prevailing ornamental taste of the Rome of his day and the Carracci. This is considered Guido's best style, and is distinguished by its subtle management of light and shade. His third, which is called bis " silvery style," from its greys, degenerated into insipidity, with little wonder, seciig tliat at thi.; stage he sold his time at so much per hour to picture dealers, who stood over him, w.itch in hand, to see that he fulfilled his bargain, and carried away the .saints' he manufactured wet from the easel. Such manufactory took him only three hours, ■sometimes less. His charges had risen from $25 for a head, and ;^ioo for a whole '■nire, to twenty times that amount. He painted few portraits, but many "fancy" Jijads of saints. Nearly three hundred pictures by Guido are believed to be in existence. Guido's individual distinction was his refined sense of beauty, but it was over-ruled by " cold calculation," and developed into a mere abstract conception of " empty grace " without heart or soul. His finest work is the large painting of "Phoebus an^' Aurora" in the pavilion of the Rospigliosi Palace at Rome. In the English National Gallery there are nine specimen.s of Guido's works, including one of his best " Ecce Homos," which belonged to the collection of Samuel Rogers, the poet. DoMENico Zampieri, commonly called Domenichino, was another Rolognese |)amter, and another eminent scholar of the Carracci. He was born in 1 581, and. I ;i; 70 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. : i V i' 1 I I I ; i 11' ! after studying under a Flemish painter, passed into the school of the Carracci. While yet a very young man, Domenichino was invited to Rome, where he soon earned a high reputation, competing successfully with his former fellow-scholar, Guido. Domenichino's " Flagellation of St. Andrew," and " Communion of St. Je- rome," in payment of which he only received about ^25 ; " Martyrdom of St. Sebas- tian," and his " Four Evangelists," which are among his masterpieces, were all painted in Rome, and remain in Rome. Domenichino is said to have excited the extreme hostility of rival painters, and to have suffered especially from the malice of the Neapolitans, when he was jinvited to work among them. After a cruel struggle Domenichino died in Naples, not with- out a horrible suspicion of having been poisoned, at the age of sixty, in 1641. One of his enemies — a Roman on this occasion — destroyed what was left of Domeni- chino's work in Naples. The painter's fate was a miserable one, ii ' 1 coincidence between his fortune and his taste in subjects, he has identified his ; . . with terrible representations of martyrdoms. Kugler writes that martyrdom ai> <■. subject for painting, which had been sparingly used by Raphael and his scholars, had come into fashion in Domeni- chino's time, for " painters and poets sought for passionate emotion, and these sub- jects (martyrdoms) supplied them with plentiful food." Sensationalism is the florid hectic of art's decay, whether in painting or in literature. Domenichino is accredited with more taste than fancy. He made free use of the compositions of even contemporary artists, while he individualized these compo- sitions. His good and bad qualities are those of his school, already quoted, and perhaps it is in keeping with these qualities that the excellence of Domenichino's works lies in subordinate parts and subordinate characters. Opposed to the Carracci school, whose triumphs and failures were essentially his own, Salvator Rosa, born in 1615 near Naples, was the son of an architect. In opposition to his father Salvator Rosa became a painter. Having succeeded in selling his sketches to a celebrated buyer, the bold young Neapolitan started for Rome at the age of twenty years ; and Rome, " the Jerusalem of Painters," became thenceforth Salvator Rosa's headquarters, though the character of the man was such as to force him to change his quarters not once or twice only in his life, and thus he stayed some time, in turn, at Naples, ""/iterbo, Volterra, and Florence. At Volterra the aggressive nature of the painter broke forth in a .series of written satires on a medley of subjects — music, poetry (both of which Salvator himself cultivated), painting, war, Babylon, and envy. These incongruous satires excited the violent indignation of the individuals against whom Salvator's wit was aimed, and their effort* at revenge, together with his own turbulent spirit, drove him from place • to place. Salvator Rosa was at Naples 1647, and took part in the riots, so famous in song and story, which made Masaniello, the young fisherman, for a time Captain-General and Master of Naples, when it was, according to law, a Spanish dependency governed by a viceroy. Salvator was in the Compagnia della RIorte commanded by Falcone, a battle painter, during the troubles, a wild enough post to please the wild painter, ■ '^^?|"S^^«> S j».y: •Mi 1 y — . - ■JiinarMM — li 1^ I i I ! P' ! i SALVATOR ROSA. 71 even had he not been in addition a personal adherent of the ruhng spirit Masaniello, whom Salvator Rosa painted more than once. After so eventful a life, the painter died peaceably enough in his fifty-ninth year, of dropsy, at Rome, and left a con- siderable fortune to his only son. Salvator Rosa was the incarnation of the arrogant, fickle, ficrc^ Neapolitan spirit, and he carried it out sufficiently in an undisciplined, stormy life, without the addition of the popular legend that he had at one time joined a troop of banditti, and indulged in their excesses. The legend seems to have arisen from Salvator Rosa's familiarity with mountain passes, and his love of peopling them appropriately with banditti in action. Salvator Rosa was a dashing battle painter, a mediocre historical painter, and an excellent portrait painter as well as landscape painter. But it is chiefly by the savage grandeur of his mountain or forest landscapes, with their fitting dramatis per- sona, that he has won his renown. Mr. Ruskin, while he allows Salvator's gift of imagination, denounces him for the reckless carelessness and untruthfulness to nature of his painting. Many of Salvator Rosa's pictures are in the Pitti Palace in Florence, in England and France, and a few have found a home in the States. Michel Angelo Amerighi or Merighi — commonly known as Michelangelo DA Carav.vggio, from his birthplace in the Milanese — was born in 1569. The son of a mason, he was employed, when quite a boy, in grinding the colours of several painters of Milan, and thus acquired an early taste for art. With no other teacher but nature, he laboured attentively at his new work, confining himself at first to paint- ing portraits and flower-pieces. After five years of steady application in Milan, Caravaggio removed to Venice, where he studied the works of Giorgione. Thence he went to Rome, in which city, finding himself, through poverty, unable to gain a livelihood as an independent painter, he engaged himself to Ccsare d'Arpino, who employed him to execute the floral and ornamental parts of his pictures. Caravaggio, however, was soon enabled to paint for himself, but after executing many important works, he was obliged to leave the city on account of the death of a friend, whom he had killed in a fit of anger; he repaired to Naples, whence he went to Malta, where he was patronized by the grand-master Vignacourt, whose portrait he twice painted. Once more, through his hot and fiery temper, Caravaggio was driven from the town of his choice. He quarrelled with a knight, who threw him into prison. Caravaggio, however, escaped from captivity and fled to Syracuse, whence he went to Naples by way of Messina and Palermo. Having obtained, through the influence of his friends, the Pope's pardon for the manslaughter of his companion — Caravaggio set sail from Naples for Rome, but he was taken prisoner on the way by some Spaniards, in mistake for another man. On being set at liberty, he had the misfortune to find that the boatmen had gone off with the felucca and his property. He continued his way as far as Porto Ercole, where partly from his loss and partly from the heat of the weather, he was taken ill shortly afterwards, and died in 1609. In the Vatican at Rome is the Descent from the Cross, by Caravaggio, which is usually considered his masterpiece, and in which there is seen, if not the absence of his usual defects, at least a union of his most eminent qualities. The heads are all ignoble ; never did he carry further the worship of the real and the repulsive. As to i I I I 1 ( 1 1 1 I 72 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. the men who arc taking the body of our Lord down from the cross, their vulgar coarseness might have formed a contrast to tlie noble beauty of Jesus and Mary. But the Saviour himself and His Virgin Mother are no better treated ; it might almost be said that Caravaggio was of the school of those Christian painters of the fourth century who followed the tradition of St. Cyril and some others among the early fathers, that our blessed Lord was the least beautiful among the sons of men. The same may be said of one of his choicest works, now in the Louvre, the Z'fa/'A of the Virgin, \\\\\c\\ he painted for a church in Rome, was called Delia Scala in Trastevere. We notice in it, at the first glance, the absence of all religious feeling, and even of worldly nobility ; and still more the absence of traditional characters common to all sacred subjects. Who is it lying on that couch, breathing her last sigh ? Is it the mother of Christ in the midst of His Apostles, or is it not rather an old gipsy among a number of the men of her tribe, dressed in ridiculous finery ? It is the same with the Judith at Naples, which may yet be considered one of his most vigorous and energetic works. How can we recognize the timid and virtuous widow, who to save her people resolves to commit a double crime, in that infuriated Roman who is cutting the throat of Holofernes as a butcher slaughters a sheep ? Caravaggio, indeed, when he is on his own ground, is an eminent artist. He appears thus at the Louvre, in his Fortune-teller, and in the excellent Portrait of I'lgnacourt, Grand-master of Malta, in his armour ; he is also seen to be a great artist at Rome in the picture of the Gamesters,* in which a young gentleman is seen robbed by two swindlers ; and at Vienna in the Lichtcnstein Gallery, in the Portrait of a _jw///^^/r/ playing on the lute. This is an extraordinary work, for, laying aside his habitual exaggeration, his inclination to the ugly and strange, the master here shines in truth, grace, nobility, and beauty. The National Gallery has but one work by Cara\'aggio, a Christ witli the huo disciples at Einmaus, formerly in the Borghese Gallery at Rome ; it was painted for Cardinal Scipione Borghese. Caravaggio was a mason, who became a painter by seeing frescoes executed on the moist plaster he had laid on the walls ; he was a painter who remained a mason, rough, unlettered, professing to despise antiquity, and scoffing at Raphael and Cor- reggio ; wishing for no other model than nature, he studied commonplace and low nature ; yet in his fiery execution he attained a degree of energy, power, and truth, the only defects of which are probably their own excesses. Giovanni Fkaxcksco Barkikki ni Cksto — surnamed Gl'ercino or Guercio (the Squintor) because, while still in the cradle, a great fright caused a nervous convulsion which deranged the ball of one eye — was born at Cento, near Bologna, in 1592. As an artist, he was, in a great measure, self-taught. He was a disciple of the Carracci, not exactly from having received lessons from them, but from having learnt art, and made for himself a style by imitating their works. After studying at Venice and Bologna, Guercino went during the pontificate of Paul V. to Rome, where he stayed until 1623, when lie returned to his native Cento, in which town he executed several works of importance. In 1642 he removed to Bologna, where he remained till his death in 1666. In the works of Guercino we can admire neither the sublimity of the * Sec Illustration. "■'IJB ff y ' "w-' u > rja ig r.4,.,;.:.^ GIOVANNI GUERCINO. n Ar his If the thought, nor the nobility of the forms : these qualities are not to be looked for in the son of a poor ox-driver; but we cannot but admire the exact and skilful imitation of nature which he attained at once by correctness in drawinjj, harmony in colour, and the wonderful use he made of chiaroscuro. It is to the latter quality that he m^c. his too ambitious surname of the " magician of painting." He has been charged with giving his shadows a degree of exaggerated force, as did Caravaggio and Ribcra; but in those dark shades no one could have put more transparency and lightness than Guercino. One of the greatest works of Guercino is in the gallery at Stafford House, London. This is the Apotheosis or canonization of a beatified pope, either St. Leo or St. Sixtus. Another, which is no less vast in composition and grand in its style, is the St. Pctronilla in the Capitol at Rome ; it does honour alike to the museum and to the artist. This work, which is of singular beauty, is divided, like so many other pictures, into two parts, heaven and earth. Quite at the bottom, grave-diggers are opening a sepulchre in order to take out the body of the daughter of the apostle Peter, who was thrown into it alive as a forsworn vestal. This exhumation takes place in the presence of several persons, amongst others, of the betrothed of Petro- nilla, a young man, dressed in the fashion of the sixteenth century, who does not sc.':.-n verj' deeply affected at seeing the corpse of his beloved appear above the edge of the grave. As for the saint herself, free forever from the passions of the lower world, radiant with glory, and with her head encircled by a crown, she ascends on the clouds towards heaven, where the Eternal Father awaits her with outstretched arms. C.VRLO DoLCi, sometimes called Carlino, was born at Florence in 1616. He lost his father when but four years of age, and five years later was placed by his mother with one Jacopo Vignali, a pupil of Matteo Rossclli. He passed nearly all his life in his native town, where he was much patronized, and where he soon became famous. In 1670, he went to Innspruck to paint the portrait of Claudia, daughter of Ferdinand of Austria; but returning to Florence he died there in 1686. Dolci left one son and seven daughters, one of whom, Agnese, painted in the same style as her father, though not with equal success. Though Dolci's pictures are not uncommon in the European galleries, neither the Louvre nor the National Gallery possesses one. There are several, however, in private collections in England. A Christ breaking bread is in the possession of the Marquis of P^xeter at Burleigh. The Earl of Ash- burnham has a fine St. Andrnv, Among Dolci's best pictures we may mention, a Madonna and Child and a St. Andrnv praying before the Cross, both in the Pitti Palace ; and a .9/. Cecilia in the Dresden Gallery. Dolci w.i -i ' lost prolific and at the same time a careful painter, but his renown has surpassed 1.! > merit. One might almost suppose that Vasari was thinking of him when he said of an earlier painter (Lorenzo da Credi), " His productions are so finished, that beside them those of other painters appear coarse sketches. . , . This excessive care is no more worthy of praise than is excessive negligence; in ev .ything we should keep from extremes, which are equally vicious." This reflection serves to judge the works of Carlo Dolci on the material side. If we examine them f-om a moral point of view, we find their princi- pal characteristic to be a feeble, insipid affectation of religious feeling. He does not 1 , m^ «i I! I 11 I ' PH ^1?^ 74 TiV/i TABLE BOOK OF ART. attain to the mystic devotion of the art of Fra Angclico and Morales, but stops short at narrow duvotceisni. The last of the I-'lorentines in a^je, he was so also in style and taste. With him expired the };reat school which had been rendered celebrated by Giotto, Masaccio, Leonardo da Vinci, Miclielant^elo, Fra Bartolommeo, and y\ndrea del Sarto. If the painters of the periods of tlecay should never, any more than the poets, be chosen as models for study, they are yet of real use when placed near the works of classic masters, because they serve as examples of the most dan- fjerous of all faults, those which are agreeable or fashionable, in contrast with severe, solid, and eternal beauties. The taste becomes formed by discriminating between these, and talent learns to .shun the defects of the one whilst imitating the beauties of the other. Hence the works of Carlo Dolci have a use, even by the side of tiiosc of Michelangelo and Raphael. s short II style ;br:itccl o, and I more placed it dan- scvcrc, 2t\vc'cn tics of osc of i 1 I II I ^ 3 ? CHAPTER X. RUBENS-REMBRANDT-TEWIERS, FATHER AND SON— WOUVVERMAN-CUYP— PAUL POTTER —CORNELIUS DE HEIAf, &c. LONG interval elapsed between the Van Eycks and Quintin Matsys and Rubens ; but if Flemish art was slow of growth and was only developed after long pauses, it made up for its slowness and delays by the burst of triumph into which Flemish and Dutch art broke forth in Rubens and his school, in Rembrandt and Cuyp and Ruysdael. *^ A r o T, . ^'^'^^^ ^'^^^ Rlbens was born at Siegen in Westphalia on the day of St. Peter and St. Paul, 1577. But though Rubens was born out of Antwerp he was a ct.on of Antwerp by de.scont as well as by so many later associations.' H. father. John Rubens, a lawyer, an imprudent, thrifdess man in character and iiab.ts. had been compelled to leave Antwerp In consequence of religious disturbances wh.ch broke out there about the time that the northern provinces, more at one and more deculed m the.r union than the southern provinces, established their indepen- dence. Rubens spent his early boyhood at Cologne, but on the death of his father when he was ten years of age. hi. mother, a good and "discreef woman, to whom the pam ter o.ved much, and confessed his debt, returned witii her famih. to Antwerp H.s mother had destined him for his father's profession, but did not oppose her son s preference for art. *^ After studying under two different artists, and becoming a master in the guild of St. Luke. Rubens went to Italy in 1600. when he was a young man of three and- twenty years of age. He was eight years absent, entering the service of the ducal soverergn of Mantua, being sent by him on a diplomatic mission to Madrid to Ph.lip III. of Spam, vis.tmg on his own account Ro.no, where he found the Carracci and GuKlo. at the height of their fame, Venice and Genoa. " leaving portraits where he With Genoa, its architecture, and its situation. Rubens was specially chaimed but he quitted it in haste, bein;r summoned home to attend the death-bed of his 75 1 76 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. \ V I IP i. !i " \\ ' mother, from whom he had parted eight years before; and arriving too late to see her in life. A man of strong feelings in sorrow as in joy, he withdrew into retirement, and resided for his season of mourning in a religious house. Loving Italy with a painter's enthusiasm, so that to the latest day of his life he generally wrote in Italian, and loved to sign his name " Pictro Paolo Rubens," he had intended to return and settle in Mantua, but having been named court painter to the Governess of the Netherlands, Clara Eugenia, and her husband Albert, Rubens had sufficient patriotism and sufficient worldly foresight to induce him to relinquish his idea, and establish himself in his native Antwerp. He was already a man of emi-* nence in his profession, and a man of mark out of it. Go where he would b lade friends, and he so recommended himself to his royal patrons by his natural suavity, tact, and sagacity, that he was not only in the utmost favour with them as a right courtly painter, but was employed by them, once and again, on delicate, difficult private embassies. But it was not only to his patrons that Rubens was endeared ; he was emphatically what men call " a good fellow," alike to superiors, equals, and inferiors ; a frank, honest, bountiful, and generous man. His love of courts and their splendour was the chivalrous homage which a man of his cast of mind paid to the dignity and picturesqueness of high estate. He married a year after his mother's death, when he was in his thirty-third year. His first wife, Isabella Brant, was a cc. .lection of his own (and so was his second wife). He built and painted, in fresco, a fine house in Antwerp, and laid out a plea- sant garden, which contained a rotunda, filled with his collection of pictures by the Italian masters, antique gems, &c,, &c., already gathered abroad. He set himself to keep house in a liberal f^ .hion, to dispense benefits, and to entertain friends — above all, to paint with might and main in company with his great school, the members of which, like those of Raphael's school where Raphael was concerned, were, for the most part, Rubens' devoted comrades. Counting his work not only as the great object, but the great zest of his life, never did painter receive such sweeping and accumulating commissions, and never, even by Tintoret, were commissions executed with such undaunted, unhesitating expedition. Withal Rubens frequently left his studio and went abroad, either to act as an unofficial ambassador, or to paint at the special request of some foreign sovereign. Tlii'.s he was residing in Paris in 1620, planning for Marie dc Medici the .series of renarkable pictures which commemorated her marriage with Henry IV. When we were young, we went occasionally to a country house, the show place of the neighbourhood, where there were copies of this series of Rubens' pictures. (We can remember yet looking at them with utter bewilderment, caused by the dubious taste that impelled Rubens to indulge in the oddest mi.xture of royal personages, high church dignitaries, patron .saints, and gods and goddesses.) In 1628 Ru jens was in Spain on a nii.ssion from his .sovereign to her kinsman, Philip IV. ; in the following year he was in England, on a service of a similar description to Charles I., from whom, even as Rubens had already received it from King Philip, the painter had the honour of knighthood. In the meantime Rubens' first wife died, after a union of seventeen years, in I ! HUBEiVS. 77 an ign. of \cn the can aste ligh s in nng roni the s, in 1 1626; and four years later, in 1630, the painter, when he was a man of fifty years, re- married another connection of his own, Helena Fourmcnt, a girl only in her sixteenth year. B '■V of his wives were handsome, fair, full-formed Flemish beauties. Eliza- beth (in Spanish, Isabella) Brant's beauty was of a finer order than that of her suc- cessor, e.vprcssing larger capacity of affection and intellect. But on Helena Fourment Rubens doted, while to both women he seems to have been affectionately attached. He has painted them so often, that the face of no painter's wife is so familiar to the art world, and even to the greater world without, as are the faces of these two women, and above all, that of Helena Fourmcnt. He had seven children, who frequently figure in their mothers' portraits. He has left notable portraits of his two sons by his first wife, of his eldest daughter, Clara Eugenia, when eight years of age, and of his daughter Elizabeth, a buxom baby, dressed in velvet and point lace, playing with toys. After a life of unbroken success and the highest honours, the last distinction conferred on Rubens was, that he was chosen to arrange the gala, and to be the right-hand man who should conduct the Cardinal Infant, the successor of Clara Eugenia, on his first entrance into Antwerp. But the hand of premature disease and death, which not even he could resist, was already on the great painter; his constitu- tion had been undermined by repeated attacks of gout, and he died at the age of si.vty years, in 1640. He was the possessor of great wealth at the time of his death, and only a part of his collection, which was then sold, brought so large a sum in those days, as $100,000. Rubens' second wife, Helena Fourment, to whom he had been married ten years, survived him, a widow at twenty-si.x years of age, and married again. Rubens' portrait is even better known than those of his wives, for, as we have said of Raphael in his popularity, Rubens in his life is the beau-ideal of a painter to the many. The portrait is worthy of the man, with something gallant in the manli- ness, and with thought tempering what might have been too much of bravado and too much of debonnairetc in the traits. His features are handsome in their Flemish fulness, and match wt.U with hazel eyes, chestnut hair, and a ruddy complexion ; his long moustache is turned up, and he wears the pointed beard which we see so often in the portraits by Rubens' scholar. Van Dyck. The great flapping hat, worn alike by men and women, slightly cocked to one side, is the perfection of picturesque head gear. Equally picturesque, and not in the slightest degree effeminate on a man like Rubens, is the falling collar of pointed mcchlin, just seen above the cloak draped in large folds. In his own day Rubens was without a rival as a painter. In a much later day Sir Joshua Reynolds pronounced Rubens "perhaps the greatest master in the mechanical part of the art, the best i^'orkinan with his tools that ever exercised a pencil." His consummate excellence lay in his execution and colouring. It is brought as a reproach against his painting, that his noblest characters, even his sacred charact':rs, were but big, brawny, red and white Flemings. His imagination only reached a certain height, and yet, if it were a very earthly Flemish imagination, it could be grandly, as it was always vigorously, earthly and Flemish. At the same 78 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. time he could be deficient where proportion, and even where all the laws of art, are concerned. Rubens* works are very many, nearly four thousand pictures and sketches being attributed to him and his scholars. Many are still at Antwerp, many at Madrid, but most arc at Munich, where, in one great saloon and cabinet, there are ninety-five pictures by Rubens. In England, at Blenheim, there are fifteen pictures by Rubens, as the great Duchess of Marlborough would give any price for his works. W^e can only indicate a very few examples in the different branches of art which he made his own. First, of his Descent from the Cross .*it is a single large group, distinguished by luminous colouring and correct drawing, and with regard to which the mass of white sheet against which the body of Christ is in relief in the picture, has been regarded as a bold artistic venture. An enthusiastic admirer has calleJ it " a most wonderful monument of the daring genius of the painter. The grandest picture in the world for composition, drawing, and colouring." Its defects are held to be " the bustle of the incidents and the dreadfully true delineation of merely physical agony — too terrible, real, picturesque, but not sublime — an earthly tragedy, not a divine mystery." " Remit the anguish of that lighted stare ; Close those wan lips ! let that thorn-wounded brow Stream not with blood." There is a tradition that an accident happened to the picture while Rubens was painting it, and that Van Dyck remedied the accident by re-painting the cheek and chin of the Virgin and the arm of the Magdalene. A graphic story is related of two countrymen having on a holiday visited the picture gallery in which Rubens' Descent hung — and while one of the countrymen passed the great painting by with the common place inspection of the multitude — the other stood .spell-bound before the picture — so long that at length his companion im- patiently pulled him by the sleeve saying, " come along, are you going to stand there all day?" — to which the other replied — still absorbed in the picture, "hush! w.\it TILL THEY GET HIM DOWN." Perhaps the greatest compliment ever paid to a painter! With regard to another picture of Rubens at Antwerp, The Assumption of the llrgin, it is said that he painted it in sixteen days, for si.xteen hundred florins, his usual terms being a hundred florins a day. The Virgin and Serpent (from the 12th chapter of Revelation) in the Munich gallery is very splendid. The Virgin with the new-born Saviour in her arms is mounting on the wings of an eagle, surrounded by a flood of light. The serpent, encircling the moon on which .she stands, is writhing bcnoith hi"- feci. God the Father is extending his protecting sceptre over her from above. Th< archangel, clothed in armour, is in fearful combat with the seven-headed dragon, which is en- deavouring to devour the child. Although struck by lightning, the dragon is striving to twist his tail round the legs of the angel, and seizes the cloak of the Virgin with one of his hands. Other infernal monsters are writhing with impotent rage, and falling with the dragon into the abyss," * See Illustration. ^.^i i r--^ ll I " < I 1; i i 1 i i • j 1 ' i 'J " 1 i: i JiUBENS. 79 thological pictures '''^\^'"^/. ^-^^^ Thermodon; two horses arc m savage ^=t^^^^;s.e-^r^^^ :;-l^^.r ^-^^;^^ - o. tHe Wons. can compare with Raphael's ^-''^^'( ^"'f "^t''; ^,,,.,.,. of of Proserpine. "Pluto in his car Another great picture .s ^' f 3f„ ^f ^^^ goddess, resisting and strug- is driven by fiery brown steeds, and .s bcamg away t g .^ .^ ^^^ ^^^^^ gling. The picture absolutely glcnvs ^^^1^^^^:^'^^^^,,^ of Proserpine the slender than is general with Rubens. J^3"S ^ victorious god of love Perhaps the most beautiful is ^"^f-^J^ "^ ^ j^j^ ^^j.brated animal pictures is Rubens was a great animal P^'"^^ ; ^^^ ^^ ;„ ^,1,;^!, each lion is a king of and scholar. Schneydcrs. renowned of his pictures. He gave to his RubensMandscapes are not the cast renou i^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^^^^ ^„^.^^ own rich but prosaic Flanders, .^tl^ebre^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^ every aspect, who effects of a master of painting, and a true love ^^^ ^^^^^^^^^ ^^.^^.^^^ can indeed distinguish, under the most o d.na y aspect h ^^^^^^^^ ,, ^^.^^^ all but a lover and a man of genius would pass by^H.^ ^ / ^^ .^ ^^ the sun of Flanders piercing the dense yellow clouds with great repute. , . n j 77,^. /v7,/r riiihsophcrs ^ Among hi, Ihmous portraits wc shall men Uon « >» <""™ ( ^^^^ beards and (Justus Le^sius, Hugo Grotius, Rubcnj and "' ^™*"''7„^^,';;,,„^ books and lustaches, in tumod-over collars, ruffs and fur- r mm d robos^ J .^ ^^^^^^^^^^ s at:f.:i":rutrdr.T:,:dJ;: i:;,A*ro.d. ^. ,.- called //.• Lady in the Strmv Hat. Rubens himsel did not n^- I wise in his catalogue. Tradition says the original w- MdU. Lu ^ ^^.^^^^^^ of the seventeen provinces, and that she died young -^^ ^^^.^^^ ,,, ^.j^ted value the picture because o the ^"7^^;^^^;, ,'^ :^rcino.^ brilliantly a face so much in the shade ; to '^^ ™ ^^^ "° p^^ming part of the the picture must speak for itself, in its graceful, tender beauty. 1 ■ ii: TABLE BOOK OF ART. collection of the late Sir Robert Peel (we think he gave $15,000 for the Lady in the Straw Hat), which has been bought for England, this beautiful portrait is now in the National Gallcrj', London. And now we must speak of the pictures of the Arundel Family. But first, a word about Thomas, Earl of Arundel. Thomas, Earl of Arundel, representing in his day the great house of Howard, had a love of art which approached to a mania ; and without being so outrageously vain as Sir Kenelm Digby, there is no doubt that the Earl counted on his art collection as a source of personal distinction. James I., himself an art collector, so far humoured the Earl in his taste as to present him with Lord Somerset's forfeited collection, valued at $5,000. But Charles L and the Earl became rival collectors, and little love was lost between them. The Earl of Arundel, impairing even his great revenues in the pursuit, employed agents and ambassadors — notably Petty and Evelyn — all over Europe, to obtain for him drawings, pictures, ancient marbles, gems, &c. &c. When the civil wars broke out, Lord Arundel conveyed his priceless collection for safety to Antwerp and Padua. Eventually it was divided among his sons and scattered far and wide. The only portion of it which fell to the nation, in the course of another generation, was the Greek Marbles, known as the Arundel Marbles, which were finally presented to the University of Oxford. But in Rubens' day all this grand collection was intact, and displayed in galleries at Arundel House, which the mob thought fit to nickname " Tart Hall ;" and through these galleries Rubens was conducted by the Earl. Rembrandt Van Rhyn is said to have been born near Leyden about 1606 or 1608, for there is a doubt as to the exact date. His father was a miller or maltster, and there is a theory that Rembrandt acquired some of his effects of light and shade from the impressions made upon him during his life in the mill. He was a pupil at the Latin school of Leyden, and a scholar in studios both at Leyden and Amsterdam. In 1630, when Rembrandt was a mere lad, he seems to have settled in Amsterdam, and married there in 1634, when he was six or eight-and-twenty years of age, a young Dutchwoman possessed of a considerable fortune, which, in case of her death and of Rembrandt's re-marriage, was to pass to her children, a provision that in the end wrought Rembrandt's ruin. The troubles of his country in the painter's time rendered his prices comparatively small and precarious, and Rem- brandt, like Rubens, without Rubens' wealth, was eager in making an art collection and surrounding himself with those very forms of beauty in the great Italian masters' \vorks, in the appreciation of which the Dutch master — ^judged by his own works — might have been reckoned deficient. Rembrandt's wife died after eight years of marriage, and left him with one sur- viving son, Titus, and Rembrandt, having re-married, was called upon to give up the lad's ir.heritance. This call, together with the expenditure of the sums which Rembrandt had lavished on his collection, was too heavy upon funds never very ample, and the painter, after struggling with his difficulties, became a bankrupt in 1656. His son took possession of Rembrandt's house, and from the sale of the painter's art collec- tion and other resources eventually recovered his mother's fortune, but Rembrandt REMBRANDT. 8l rks — himself never rose above the misery, degradation, and poverty of tliis period. He hved thirteen years lon<^er, but it was in obscurity — out of which the only recorils which reach us, are stories of miserly habits acquired too late to serve their purpose, a desperate resort to low company dating from his first wife's death, and his gradual downfall. Rubens and Rembrandt have been sometimes contrasted as the painters of light and of darkness; the contrast extended to their lives. It will read like a humorous anti-climax after so sad a history, when we add that no other painter painted his own likeness so often as Rembrandt painted his. In the engraving before us the face is heavy and stolid-seeming enough to be that of a typical Dutchman. The eyebrows are slightly knit over the broad nose; the full lips are scantily shaded by a moustache ; there is no hair on the well-fleshed cheeks and double chin. Rembrandt wears a flat cap and ear-rings. He has two rows of a chain across his doublet, and one hand thrust beneath the cloak hanging across his breast. Rembrandt's great merits were his strong truthfulness, and his almost equally powerful sense of a peculiar kind of picturesquoncss. It seems as if the Gerr. . weirdness perceptible in Albrecht Diirer had in Rembrandt taken a homelier, but a more comprehensible and effective Dutch form. Kugler argues, that the long winter, with its short dark days, of Northern Europe produces in its inhabitants instinctive delight in hearth-warmth and light, and that the pleasure in looking at Rembrandt's pictures is traceable to this influence. It is in scenes by fire-light, camp-light, torch-light, that he triumphs, and his somewhat grim but very real romance owes its origin to the endless suggestions of the deep black shadows which belong to these artificial lights. There is this objection to be urged to the theory that Rembrandt was also a good painter of his own flat Dutch landscape, painting it, however, rather under the sombre dimness of clouds and tempests than in the brightness of sunshine. But whatever its source, there is a charm so widely felt in that wonderfully perfect surrounding of uncertainty, suspicion, and alarm, with which Rembrandt has encom- passed so many of his otherwise prosaic, coarse, and sometimes vulgar Dutch men and women, that we have coined a new word to express the charm, and speak of groups and incidents being Rejil/andtcsquc , as we speak of their being picturesque. Rembrandt did not always leave the vague thrill of doubt, terror, or even horror, which he sought to produce, to imagination working in the mysterious depths of his shadows. A very famous picture of his is Dr. Dccman (an anatomist) demonstrating from a dead subject. In another picture a man stealing from the gloom is in the act of stabbing in the back the unconscious man in the foreground. Rembrandt's originality is as undoubted as his ability, and he was as great in etching as in painting. His defect as a painter was the frequent absence of any evidence in his work of a sense of refinement, grace, or beauty. One of his strongest pictures, which we engrave,* is the defiance of Adolplie dc Guildre to his father — forcible and grand ! The National Gallery, London, has a few examples, including two of Rembrandt's portraits. *See Illustration. 82 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. -■ ,' J I % I f Passing over Van Dyck, whom \vc reserve, as we have reserved Holbein, to class among tlic foreign painters resident in or closely connected with Kngland, we come to the Tenikks — fatlier and son. David the elder was born at Antwerp in 1582, and David the younger also at Antwerp, in 1610. David the younger is decidedly the more eminent painter, though the works of the father are often mistaken for those of the son. The two Tenicrs' class of subjects was the same, being ordinarily " fairs, markets, peasants' merry-makings, beer-houses, guard-rooms." David the younger had great popularity, was court painter to the Archduke of Austria, and earned such an independence, that he bought for himself a chateau at the village of Perck, not very far from the Chateau de Stein of Rubens, with whom David Tcniers was on terms of friendly intimacy. There Teniers, like his great associate, lived in the utmo.st .state and bounty, entertaining the noblest of the land. David Teniers married twice, his first wife being the daughter of one of a family of Flemish painters, who were known, according to their respective proclivities in art, by the names of Peasant Breughel, Velvet Breughel, and Hell Breughel. Teniers had many children. The elder Teniers died at Antwerp in 1649; the younger died at Brussels, and was buried at Perck, in 1694. The distinction of the Teniers was the extreme fidelity and cleverness with which they copied (but did not explain) the life they knew — the homeliest, humblest aspect of life. They brought out with marvellous accuracy all its traits, except, indeed, the underlying strain of poetry, which, while it redeems plainness, sordidness, and even coarseness, is as true to life as is its veriest prose. With those who ask a literal copy of life, whether high or low, and ask no more, the Teniers and their school must always be in the highest favour ; and to those who are wearied and .sceptical of blunders and failures in seeking that underlying strain of life, the mere rugged genuineness of tlie Teniers' work recommends itself, and is not without its own pathos ; while to very many superficial observers the simple homeliness of the life which the Teniers chose to represent, prevents the observers from missing what should be present in every life. Men and women are only con.scious of the defect when the painters wander, now and then, into higher spheres and into sacred subjects, and there is the unavoidable recoil from gross blindness. We have taken the Teniers as the representatives of a numerous school of Flemish and Dutch artists, whose works abound in this country. David Tcniers the younger appears at his best, several times, in Dulwich Gallery and the National Gallerj'. Philip Wouvvekman was born at Haarlem in 1620. He was the son < •" a painter, able, but unrecognized in his own day. Philip Wouvverman fou" ' patrons, disposed of his pictures by hard bargains to dealers, was tempted want of success to abjure his art, and even went so far, according to traditioi. ^ to burn his studies and sketches, in order to prevent his son pursuing the career wIh' h had been to him a career of bitter disappointment. He died at Haarlem, 1668, when he was no more than forty-eight years of age. Yet some nine hundred paintings bear (many of them falsely) Wouwerman's name. With all the truth and excellent execution of his contemporaries and country- M I , Archduke of a chiitcau at s, with whom ike his great : of the land, jf a family of jvities in art, Tenicrs had Brussels, and :ss with which miblcst aspect |)t, indeed, the less, and even a literal copy • school must J sceptical of mere rugged thout its own ess of the life missing what of the defect d into sacred ^c have taken 1 Dutch artists, appears at his ],' JEANNIE DEANS AND THE DUKE OF ARGYLE. (/■>7'« the oi-igituit painting by T. Faed, R.A.) and country- 1 --^ 1 1 ! 1 I 1 CUYP— POTTER— DE HEIM. •? 83 men. Philip Wouvverinan, who had, as he thought, missed his mark, had something which those successful men lacked — he had not only a feeling for grace, but a touch of sentiment. His scenes are commonly " road-side inns, hunts, fights ;" but along with an inclination to adopt ? higher class of actors— knights and ladies, instead of peasants — there is a more 'efined treatment and a dash of tenderness and melancholy — the last possibly born of his own disastrous fortunes. In his love of horses and dogs, as adjuncts to his groups, he had as great a fondness for a special tvhite horse, as Paul Potter had for black and white cattle. Alcert Cuyp was born at Dort in 1605. He was a brewer by trade, and only painted as an amateur. In spite of this, he was a great landscape painter, and has given delight to thousands by his power of expressing his own love of nature. Little is known of Cupy's life, and the date of his death is uncertain, farther than it was later than 1638. In affected enthusiasm, Cuyp has been called the Dutch Claude, but in reality, Cuyp surpassed Claude in some respects. The distinction which Mr. Ruskin draws between them, is that, while Claude, in the sense of beauty, is the superior to Cuyj). in the sense of truth Claude is the inferior. Besides Cuyp's landscapes, he painted por- traits, and what is called "still life" (dead game, fruit or flower pieces. &c.). but Cu) p's triumph was found in his skies, with their " clearness and coolness." and in " expressions of yellow sunlight." Mr. Ruskin admits, while he is proceeding to censure Cuyp, " parts might be chosen out of the good pictures of Cuyp which ha^•e never been equalled in art." Paul Potter was born at Enkhuysen, in North Holland, in 1625. and was the son of a painter. Paul Potter s-ttled. while still very young, at the Hague as an animal painter, and died in his thirtieth year, in 1654. His career, which was thus brief, had promised to be very successful, and he had established his fame, while no more than twenty-two years of age, by painting for Prince Maurice of Nassau that which continues his most renowned, though probably not his best picture, his Young Bull, for some time in the Louvre, now restored to the painter's native country, and place in the Museum at the Hague. This picture is considered nearly faultless as a vigorous, if somewhat coarse, representation of animal life in the main figure ; but Paul Potter's later pictures, especially his smaller pictures of pastures with cattle feeding, having fine colouring and fine treatment of light, are now regarded as equally good in ta-'ir essential excellences, and of wider scope. Paul Potter etched as well as painted. Jan Davip de Heim and his son Cornelius, the father born in 1600. the son in 1630, and Maria Von Oesterwyck. their contemporary, were eminent Flemish and Dutch flower and fruit painters. The gorgeous bloom and mellow ripeness in some of the flower and fruit pictures of Flemish and Dutch painters, like those we have mentioned, are beyond description. We would have you look at them for yourselves, where they are well represented, in the Dulwich Gallery; we would have you notice! also, how as travellers declare of the splendour of tropical flowers, that they are deficient in the tender sweetness and grace of the more sober-tinted and less lavishly- blossoming English flowers ; so these Flemish and Dutch full-blown flower pieces 84 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. I w have not a trace of tlic sentiment which modern flower painters cannot help seeking, with good or bad result, to introduce into every tuft of primroses or of violets, if not into every cluster of grapes and bunch of cherries. From a fact which we have already mentioned, that so many Flemish and Dutch pictures, which we may often come across, are in England, we are sorry that our space will not suffer us to give more than a few special words to other famous painters of these schools or school, for they merge into one, to Snyders, Jan Steen, Gerard Douw, Ruysdael, Hobbema, Vandevelde, &c., &c. ]Metzu and Terburg were painters of Dutch life in the higher classes. Ter- burg's White Satin Gown is famous for the marvellous fidelity with which the satin in the gown of one of the figures is rendered. Fkaxs Snyders — who, among the t'lemish animal painters of the time, was second only to Rubens — was born at Antwerp in 1579. He studed art under "Hell" Breughel, and also, it is said, under Hendrik van Balen, from whom he acquired the art of flower and fruit painting. Snyders subsequently changed his subject to wild animals, in the representation of which, in their untamed and savage natures, he especially excels. He is said to have studied for some time in Italy — chiefly at Rome Snyders was invited to Brussels by the Archduke Albert, Governor of the Netherlands, for whom he executed numerous works. A Stag-hunt, which was sent by the Archduke to Philip HI. of Spain, so much delighted that monarch, that he commissioned the artist to paint various works, which were, until recently, in tho Bucno Retiro. Snyders died a; Antwerp in 1657. He often worked in conjunction with Rubens and Jordaens, He painted animals and sometimes fruit, flowers, and vegetables, to suit Rubens' pictures, and that artist in return painted figures to suit those of Snyders. Pictures painted by all three artists — Rubens, Snyders, and Jordaens — are still in existence. Terburg's greatest picture. The Peace of Minister, was sold about 40 years ago to the Marcjuis of Hertford for 836,000. We engrave his picture Rifreshnunt,* which is in the Louvre. Terburg's pictures at the present day have advanced to such prices that they seldom change owners. Jacob Ruysdael, the prince of Dutch landscape painters, was born at Haarlem about 1635. He was originally intended for the study of medicine, and received an education fitting the profession, which he is supposed to have practised for a short time, liut his love of art prevailed, and he abandoned the pharmacopccia in fa\ our of the brush. His first instruct jr in art was his elder brotiier, Solomon Ruysdael. Jacob is known to have lived in Amsterdam, and is supposed, to have studied under Berchem, with whon^ he was on intimate terms of friendship. Little further is known of Ruysdael's life. He died in poverty at Haarlem in 1 68 1. Jacob Ruysdael is a striking proof of the saying of Bacon: Ars est homo additus natnrtc. To the talents of his predecessors or contemporaries he added the dreamy and melancholy poetry of his own mind, which can only be well understood by cha- *5ee Steel Engraving. I if it? RUYSDAEL. 85 •' ractcrs resembling his own. If we seek in Ruysdael merely the imitation, the portrait of nature, he is equalled, and, perhaps, even surpassed, in some technical points, by Hobbema, Decker, and a few others ; but it is the inner sentiment, the poetry of solitude, of silence, of mystery, which place him in the front rank alone. Albrecht Diirer made a beautiful figure of Melancholy ; without being personified, it is visible in all the works of Ruysdael. We will seek throughout Europe for the choicest of his works. In the Louvre there are but a very small number — scarcely one-half of those which may be found at Munich, Dresden, or St. Petersburg — and these are not by any means the best of his works. There is, however, a charming landscape, of very fine execution, which is called the Coup de Soleil ; then another landscape, still more simple, whose name of The Bush describes the whole subject. There is also a Storm on the coast and near the dykes of Holland, dark and strong, admirable in the rendering of the tumultuous waves and sinister aspect of the sky ; Michelet calls it the " prodigy of the Louvre." In Holland itself we find little more than the Waterfall, at the entrance to a wooded ravine, on the two steep banks of which stand old castles. This magnificent work is in the Museum of Amsterdam, with a Jlezv of Bentheim Castle, a small finely-painted landscape, lighted by brilliant sunshine. It was painted on one of his happiest days. Rotterdam also possesses another I'iezo of Bentheim Castle, which he painted so many times and under such different aspects ; yet always with the greatest care and finish. But alas, in the foreground of this picture, some miserable painter has introduced, on the banks of the Moselle, the Gospel incident of the disciples going to Emmaus ! So that the three figures are intended for our Lord and the disciples ! In England, Ruysdael is especially to be found in private collections, for in- stance, Mr. Baring's, the Troubled River, which equals the Storm in the Louvre. The National Gallery has no less than twelve Landscapes by him— six of which were acquired with the VVynn-Ellis bequest— all worthy examples of the great master. In Russia, fifteen pictures represent him in the Hermitage. In the figures we often recognise the hand of Adriaan van Ostade and Adnaan van de Velde, which increase their value. Some of these Landscapes are especially noteworthy. One is very small and very simple : a sandy plain, a winding road, a peasant followed by his dog ; nothing more : but over this is a veil of sadness which touches the heart as much as the most pathetic scene. Another is equally simple, though of much larger size : a pathway through a wood, and, on the banks of a sheet of stagnant water, a large beech-tree, half despoiled of its branches by time. A third seems to include the two preceding. This is also, in a deep forest, a fallen beech-tree, with a sheet of stagnant water almost hidden by the water-lilies ; two or three water birds, stand- ing on their webbed feet, and one passing in the distance, are all that animates this solitude ; but the scene is full of silence, mystery, and soft melancholy, and Ruj-sdael has never .spoken more eloquently to thoughtful and dreamy souls. It is in Germany however, that his greatest works are to be found. At Munich there are nine Landscapes, all as beautiful as can be desired. In the largest there is a ir 11 ^ A r. ii ■(. ■ 1 ^ ; i' 1 1 1 i i ! ! 1 TABLE BOOK OF ART. Cascade foaming down over masses of rocks. This picture is valuable as well for its groat perfection as from its unusual size. At Dresden there are thirteen of his paint- ings. Among these, several are justly celebrated. One of them is known by the name of Riiysdael's Chase. It is a forest of beech-trees, broken only by some sheets of water reflecting the clouds in the sky. Under these great trees, Adriaan van de Vclde has painted a stag hunt, from which the name of the picture has been taken. This is one of the largest as well as most magnificent to be found in his entire works. Adria.vn v.\n Ostade was born at Haarlem in l6lo. He studied under Frans Hals, and formed a friendship with Adriaan Brouwer. Like the latter, he chose his subjects from low life, but he was mo z laborious and less dissipated, and has accord- ingly left us more works. After a life of industry and success, Van Ostade died in 1685 at Haarlem, where he was buried. Some accounts say that he died at Amster- dam, and that his body was removed to Haarlem for interment. Although Van Ostade's usual subjects are similar to those treated by Teniers, he yet differs from Teniers as Rembrandt differs from Rubens. Teniers treats light in the same manner as Rubens, lavishing it everywhere; Ostade concentrates it, in the style of Rembrandt. Except in Italy, Ostade may be found in every country where art is held in honour. At Madrid there is a Rural Concert, formed by some choris- ters, accompanied by the bagpipe, the handle of a broom, and the mewing of a cat, whose ears are being pulled to make him join. At St. Petersburg there are about twenty of his pictures, amongst which is the valuable series of the /vrr Senses; at Dresden, among others, two excellent works, a Oino/dng Scene and a Painter's Stiuiio in a garret (his own, perhaps); at Munich, another superior work, a Dutch Alehouse, with peasants fighting, and their wives endeavouring to separate and pacify them ; at Rotterdam, an Old Man in his Stndy; at Amsterdam, a Ullage AsseinMy ; and lastly, at the Hague, two wonderful pendents, which may well be called the ne pins ultra of this master and his branch of art, the Interior and Exterior of a rustic hou.se. The Louvre has also a good share of the works of Adriaan van Ostade. He has left there, in the ten small portraits composing His Family (which might do for any Dutch fa- ni'ly), and especially in his Schoolmaster, the most complete and finished models of those small familiar scenes, comedies in private life which the wonderful skill of the ar'-.st compels us to place amongst the finest paintings. The National Gallery in England has but one picture by liim — an Alehymist — signed "A. v. Ostade, 1661." The Duhvich Gallery possesses four of his works. Gkrakp Dou, or as he is commonly called Dow, and occasionally Douw, was born at Leyden in 1613. Though this painter ought really to be placed among the immediate scholars of Rembrandt, it seems more natural to place him with other great genre-painters of this time in Holland. His father, who was a glazier, educated his son with the intention of making him a painter on glass. Ikit his merits were found to be too great to be allowed to be used on that branch of art. He was accordingly in 1628 apprenticed at Amsterdam to Rembrandt, with whom he remained three years. Dou was at first a portrait painter, but afterwards, adopting the anec- dotal style, began by treating small subjects with great breadth before he ascended, or desroiided, according to the taste of the critic, to extreme and minute delicacy. 1' «i 'I I ! i; VAN HUYSUM. 87 This patient and laborious artist, who made his own brushes, pounded his own colours, and prepared his own varnish, panels, or canvas, worked, in order to avoid dust, in a studio opening on to a wet ditch. Such was the popularity which Dou enjoyed at Leyden, that he received from an amateur, Spiering by name, no less than a thousand florins yearly for the refusal of his works. He died in Leyden in 1680. Jan van Huysum was born at Amsterdam in 1682. His father, a scene painter, employed him together with his three brothers to assist him in his work. Young Jan shewed much aptitude for painting flowers, and accordingly selected that subject for his genre. He worked chiefly at Amsterdam, where he died in 1749. Among the painters of flowers Van Huysum stands pre-eminent. He arranged flowers with so much taste and skill that flower-sellers might take lessons in their trade before his pictures, as well as painters in their art. The smiling Vases of Flmvers, far preferable to the dark Bouquets of Baptiste Modnoycr — who was brought forward as a lival to Van Huysum in the time of Madame de Pompadour — are varied and improved by agreeable accessories, such as the vases themselves elaborately carved, the marble stands, the brilliant insects, the flowers of animal life. Two flower-pieces by Van Huysum are in the National Gallery. He is also well repre- sented in the Dulwich Gallery, and in many private collections. His works abound on the Continent of Europe. Van Huysum occasionally painted landscapes, but with little success. Nicholas Claas, called Berchem or Berghem, was born at Haarlem in 1624. The meaning of his nickname has been variously accounted for, but no rendering is of undisputed authority. He studied under numerous masters, his father, Pieter Claas, a painter of no note, Jan van Goyen, Jan Wils, and Weenix, but none of these left any lasting impression on Berchem. He completed in Italy the studies he had commenced in Holland, and introduced the new element of southern scenery into the subjects treated by his fellow-countrymen. Berchem died at Haarlem in 1683. A Boaz and Ruth is in the Museum of Amsterdam, which has other works by him, in- cluding a good Ferry ; a Cavalry Combat is in the gallery of the Hague. The Louvre possesses a Vieiv of Alee and the Port of Genoa; and of his usual subjects, a Ford and Cattle drinking. The Wayside Fountain* The works of Berchem are common in England, in the National Gallery, the Dulwich Gallerj', and in most private collec- tions. * See Steel Engraving, ll CHAPTER XI. SPANISH ART— VELASQUEZ— MU RILL O, PANISH art, from its dawn to the time of Velasquez, had been of a "severely devotional character," austere and formal; and although one man did not work a revolution by his independent example, he did something to humanize and widen art. In the rich city of Seville, in 1599, Diego Rodriquez de Silva y Velasquez, — and not, as he is incorrectly called, Diego Velasquez de Silva, was born, and, according to an Andalusian fashion, took his mother's name of Velasquez, while his father was of the Portuguese house de Silva. Velasquez was gently born, though his father was in no higher position than that of a lawyer in Seville. The painter was well educated, though, according to his English biographer (Sir W. Stirling Maxwell), " he was still more diligent in drawing on his grammars and copy-books than in turning them to their legitimate use." The lad's evident bent induced his father to make him a painter. He studied in two different Spanish studios, and married the daughter of his second master, whom the talents, assiduity, and good qualities of Velasquez had already strongly attached to the young painter. From the first, Velasquez struck out what was then a new line in Spanish art. He gave himself up to the materialistic studies, to which the Flemish and Dutch painters were prone, painting diligently " still life " in every form, taking his living subjects from the streets and way-sides, and keeping a peasant lad as an apprentice, "who served him for a study in different actions and po.stu res (sometimes crying, sometimes laughing), till Velasquez had grappled with every variety of expression." The result of those studies was Velasquez's famous picture of the Agiiador, or water- carrier of Seville, which was carried off by Joseph Buonaparte in his flight from Spain, taken in his carriage at Vittoria, and finally presented by Ferdinand VH. of Spain, as a grateful offering to the Duke of Wellington, in whose gallery at Apsley House the picture remains. " It is a composition of three figures," Sir W. Stirling Maxwell writes ; " a sunburnt way-worn seller of water, dressed in a tattered brown jerkin, with his huge earthen jars, and two lads, one of whom receives a sparkling glass of the pure element, whilst his companion quenches his thirst from a pipkin. 88 VELASQUEZ. 89 I I The execution of the heads and all the details is perfect ; and the ragged trader dis- pensing a few niaravidi's worth of his simple stock, maintains, during the transaction, a grave dignity of deportment, highly Spanish and characteristic, and worthy of an emperor pledging a great vassal in Tokay." Just such a group may still be seen, or was to be seen till very lately, in the quaint streets of Seville. We have read an anecdote of Velasquez and this picture, which is quite probable, though wc cannot vouch for its accuracy. It is said that, while painting the water-carrier day after day, when he had been engaged with his work for several hours, Velasquez found himself vexed by perceiving, as it were, the effect of a shadow cast by some of the drapery. Small flaw as it might have been, it appeared to him to interfere with and spoil the i)icture. Again and again, in endeavouring to do away with this "shadow," Velasquez undid portions of his work, and had to repeat them next day, but always, towards the end of his task, the invidi- ous shadow stole upon his vision. At last a friend, who was present and full of admiration for the picture, heard Velasquez exclaim, " That shadow again I" and saw liim seize a brush and prepare to dash it across the canvas. The friend remonstrated, besought, and by main force held back the painter, and at last induced him to leave the picture untouched till next day, when Velasquez discovered, to his great relief, that the shadow had been in his own wearied young eyes, and not in his admirable representation of the Wakr-carricr. Velasquez was in Madrid in 1623, when he was in his twenty-fifth year, and having been introduced by the Prime Minister, Olivares, to the King of Spain, Philip IV., a king who was only known to smile once or twice in his life time, whose govern- ment was careless and blundering, but who had the reputation of being a man of some intelligence and very considerable taste, — Velasquez was received into the king's service with a monthly salary of twenty ducats, and employed to paint the royal portrait. From the time that he became court painter, Velasquez was largely occupied in painting portraits of members of the royal family, with special repetitions of the like- ness of his most Catholic Majesty. With Velasquez's first portrait of Philip in armour, mounted on an Andalusian charger, the king was so pleased, that he per- mitted the picture to be publicly exhibited, amidst the plaudits of the spectators, in front of the church of San Felipe el Real in Madrid. Nor was the expedition a bar- ren honour to the painter, for the king not only "talked of collecting and cancelling his existing portraits," but "resolved that in future Velasquez should have the monopoly of the royal countenance," he paid three hundred ducats for the picture. About this time the Prince of Wales, afterwards Chas. I. went in his incognito of Charles Smith to Madrid on his romantic adventure of seeking to woo and win, personally, the Infanta of Spain, and Velasquez is said to have gained Charles's notice, and to have at least begun a portrait of him. If it were ever completed it has been lost, a misfortune which has caused spurious pictures, purporting to be the real work, to be ofifered to the public. Sir W. Stirling Maxwell holds, with great show of truth, that this visit of Charles to Madrid, when its altars were " glowing " with the pictures of Titian, confirmed the unhappy king's taste for art. i7,)r 90 r//J^ TABLE BOOK OF ART. In 1628 Rubens came to Madrid as an envoy from tlie governess of the Nether- lands, and the two painters, who had many points in common, and who had already corresponded, became fast friends. By the advice of Rubens, Velasquez was induced to put into execution his cherislicd desire of visiting Italy, the king granting his favourite painter leave of absence, the continuance of his salary, and a special sum for his expenses. Velasquez went to Venice first, and afterwards to Rome, where he was offered, and declined, a suite of apartments in the Vatican, asking only free access to the papal galleries. There he copied many portions of Michael Angelo's Last Judg- ment — not a hundred years old, and " yet undimmed by the morning and evening incense of centuries," and portions of the frescoes of Raphael. At Rome Velasquez found there before him, Domenichino, Guido Reni, alternating " between the excite- ments of the gaming table and the sweet creations of his smooth flowing pencil ;" " Nicolas Poussin, an adventurer fresh from his Norm;in village ; and Claude Gelee, a pastry-cook's runaway apprentice from Lorraine." Velasquez remained a year in Rome. Besides his studies he painted three original pictures, one of W\cn\ Joseph' s Coat, well-known among the painter's comparatively rare religious works, and now in the Escurial. In this picture his biographer acknowledges, that " choosing rather to display his unrivalled skill in delineating vulgar forms than to risk his reputation in the pursuit of a more refined and idealized style," Velasquez's " Hebrew patriarchs are swineherds of Estramadura or shepherds of the Sierra Morena." From Rome Velasquez proceeded to Naples, where he was enabled by his pru- dence and forbearance to face without injury the disgraceful " reign of terror " which the Neapolitan artists had established in the south of Italy. The Neapolitan artists more than any other Italian artists are believed to have influenced Velasquez's .style. In 1639 Velasquez painted his principal religious work, The Cnicijixion, for the nunnery of San Placido in Madrid, a painting in which his power has triumphed suc- cessfully over his halting imagination. With regard to the many court groups which Velasquez was constantly taking, we may quote Sir W.Stirling Maxwell's amusing paragraph about a curious variety of human beings in the Court Gallery. " The Alcazar of Madrid abounded with dwarfs in the days of Philip IV., who was very fond of having them about him, and col- lected curious specimens of the race, like other rarities. The Queen of Spain's gallery is, in consequence, rich in portraits of these little monsters, executed by Velasquez. They are, for the most part, very ugly, displaying, sometimes in an extreme degree, the deformities peculiar to. their stunted growth. Maria Barbola, immortalized by a place in one of Velasquez's most celebrated pictures, was a little dame about three feet and a half in height, with the head arid shoulders of a large woman, and a countenance much underjawed, and almo.st ferocious in expression. Her companion, Nicolasito Pertusano, although better proportioned than the lady, and of a more amicable aspect, was very inferior in elegance as a royal plaything to his contemporary, the valiant Sir Geoffrey Hudson; or his successor in the next reign, the pretty Luisillo of Queen Louisa of Orleans. Velasquez painted many portraits of these little creatures, generally seated on the ground ; and there is a c Ncther- d already IS induced mtinj^ his ccial sum IS offcicti, ;ss to the Last J lids- id evening Velasquez the cxcite- g pencil;" ude Gelee, a year in ni, Joseph's s, and now )sing rather reputation V patriarchs by his pru- rror " which )litan artists quez's style. xion, for the amphed suc- antly taking, Lis variety of I with dwarfs lim, and col- n of Spain's executed by itimcs in an iria Barbola, , was a little rs of a large II expression, lan the lady, plaything to in the next minted many id there is a 1 :| U i i VELASQUEZ. 91 «|i « I - large picture in the Louvre representing two of them leading by a cord a great spotted hound, to which they bear the same proportion that men of the usual size bear to a horse." In 1648 Velasquez again visited Italy, sent by the king this time to collect works of art for the royal galleries and the academy about to be founded. Velasquez went by Genoa, Milan, Venice (buying there chiefly the works of Tintoret), and Parma, to Rome and Naples, returning to Rome. At Rome Velasquez painted his splendidly characteristic portrait of the Pope Innocent X., " a man of coarse features and surly expression, and perhaps the ugliest of all the successors of St. Peter." Back at Madrid, Philip continued to load Velasquez and his family with fa\'ours, appointing the painter Quarter- Master-General of the king's household with a salary of three thousand ducats a year, and t'ic right of carrying at his girdle a key which opened every lock in the palace. Philip is said to ha.e raised Velasquez to knighthood in a manner as gracious as the manner of Charles V. when he lifted up Titian'.'i pencil. In painting one of his most renowned pictures, indeed his masterpiece, Tlie Maids of Honour, Velas- quez included himself at work on a large picture of the royal family. The painter represented himself with the key of his office at his girdle, and on his breast the red cross of the Order of Santiago. Philip, who came every day to see the progress of this picture, remarked in reference to the figure of the artist, that " one thiiig was yet wanting, and taking up the brush painted the knightly insignia with his own royal fingers, thus conferring the accolade with a weapon not recognized in chivalry." As it is believed, Velasquez's court office, with all its prestige and influence, helped in causing his death. King Philip went in June, 1660, to the Isle of Phea- sants in the river Bidassa, where, on ground which was neitiicr Spanish nor I'rench, the Spanish and French courts were to meet and celebrate with the greatest magnifi- cence the marriage of the Grand Monarque and the Infanta Maria Teresa. One of Velasquez's official duties was ( ) prepare lodg'ugs for the king on his journeys, and in this instance the lodging included not only the decoration of the castle of Tuenter- rabia, but the erection of a sumptuous pavilion in which the interviews of the a;.- sembled kings ^.'v\ queens and their revelries were to be held. Velasquez did his part of the pi epa rations, and doubtless shared in the royal festivities, but returned to Madii'i s' worn out by his undertaking, and by constant attendance on his master, tiiat he w.iH seized witii tertian fever, of which he died a few days later, while but in his sixty-Urst year, to the great grief of his countrymen, and above all of his king. Vcla.squez's wife, Doiia Juana, died eight days after her husband, and was buried in his grave. The cou[)le left one survi\ing child, a daughter, married to a painter. In one picture, now at Vienna, Velasquez gives a glimpse of his fimily life at a time when it would seem tl':it lie had foui sons and two daughters, so that the fortunate painter's home had '.ot been free from one shadow — that of death, which must have robbed him of five of his children, In this pleasant picture, " his wife dressed in a brown tunic ove; a red petticoat, sits in the foreground of a large room, with a pretty little girl leaning on her knees, antl the rest of her children grouped around her; behind are the men in ileep shadow, one of them, perhaps, being Mazo, the . m ■ 92 TN.S TABLE BOOK OF ART. lover or die husband of the eldest daughter, and a nurse with a child ; and in an alcove Velasquez himself appears, standin^j before his easel, at work on a portrait of Philip IV'. This is one of t!ie most important works of the master out of the Peninsula ; the faces of the family sparkle on tiie sober background like gems. As a piece of easy actual life, the composition has never been surpassed, and perhaps it excels even The Mcninas, inasmuch ss the hoops and ciwarfs of the palace have not intruded upon the domestic privacy of the painter's home, in the northern gallery." Velasquez seems to have been a man of iicnour and amiability. He filled a difificult office at the most jealous court in Europe with credit. He was true to his friends, and helpful to his brother artists. His biographer writes of Velasquez as handsome in person, and describes his costume when he appeared for the last time with his king in the galas at Pheasants' Isle : — " over a dress richly laced with silver he wore the usual Casdlian ruff, and a short cloalc embroidered with the red cross of Santiago ; the badge of the order, sparkling with brilliants, was suspended from his neck by a gold chain; and the scabbard and hilt of h\ sword were of silver, ex- quisitely chased, and of Italian workmanship." In the li'-utch burgher. Together with absolute truth, Velasquez had the ease and fai i'.ity in expressing truth which are only acquired by a great master. Like Rubens, Velasquez made essays in many branches of painting. In sacred art, if we except his Crucifixion, he did not attain a high place. With regard to his landscnpes, Sir David Wilkie bore witness : — " Titian seems his model, but he has also the breadth and picturesque effect for which Claude and Salvator Rosa are remarkable;' and Sir David added of those landscapes, 'they have the very same sun we see, and the air we breathe, the very soul and spirit of nature." Velasquez's genre pictures, of which he painted many, are excellent, but the fate was kind which confined him largely to portrait painting. It was brought as a reproach against Velasquez in his life time, that he could paint a head and nothing dse, to which he replied with mingled spirit, sense, and good nature, that his de- tractors flattered him, " for he knew nobody of whom it could be said that he jiainted a head thoroughly well." H,\i" ^> ^^ Photographic k)CjcO06S CarporatkB MAMITMIT WK>'JI.N.Y. 14SM (n*)tn-4Mt H ^^ ^\ ^R^ :^j^H * V ►"^ 98 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. fi I tors of the Latin Church seated on the clouds; lower down in an attitude of devotion and admiration, on one side Charles V., clothed in the imperial mantle, with a cortege of knights; on the other, the Archbishop Deza, the founder of the college, with a suite of monks and attendants. Several of his works have been recently scattered throughout Europe; some were at Paris in the little Spanish museum formed by Louis Philippe, and were dispersed after his death. (There were as many as ninety-two at- tributed to him in the catalogues.) Ir. the collection of the Pardo at Madrid there are fourteen pictures attributed to Zurbaran. In England, the National Gallery, in which the artists of Spain are so poorly represented, has but one picture by thi^ artist. It is a portrait of a Franciscan Monk, and was formerly in the Spanish collection of Louis Philippe, where it was much admired by Kolloff and other writers. In the Duke of Sutherland's collection at Stafford House, there is a fine specimen of Zurbaran, a Madonna and Child with the Infant St. John. Zurbaran has been called the " Spanish Caravaggio," but if he deserved this name, it was not by the fire of his pencil, or by an exaggerated seeking aftereffect; for he is colder and more reserved, though, at the same time, nobler and more correct, than Caravaggio. If Zurbaran resemble Caravaggio, it is through his frequent use of bluish tints, which sometimes predominate so much in his pictures as to make them appear as if seen through a veil slightly tinged with blue; and also from his deep knowledge of his art, and happy use of light and shade. This is the real point of resemblance between the two masters. As for the nature of the subjects — except a small number of large compositions which were ordered of him — Zurbaran preferred simple ones, easy of comprehension, and requiring only a small number of personages, whom he always placed in p. rfectly natural attitudes. Yet he never painted comic or popular scenes, as Velasquez and Murillo sometimes did; nor strange and grotesque ones, like Ribera. Repainted some female saints, and has given them attractions and grace ; but severe religious feeling always predominates with him. No one, indeed, has ex- pressed better than Zurbaran the rigours of an ascetic life, and the austerity of the cloister ; no one has shown better than he, under the girdle of rope and the thick hood, the attenuated forms and pale heads of the cenobites, devoted to mortification and prayer, who in the words of Buffon, when their last hour arrives, " do not cease to live, but succeed in dying." Among his scholars were Bernabe de Ayala and the two brothers Polanco. Alonso Cano, who was born at Granada in 1601, has been termed the "Spanish Michelangelo." This is merely because he practised the three arts which are espe- cially called " fine." He was a painter, .sculptor, and architect. Like Michelangelo, he was a better sculptor than painter, but his only works in architecture were those heavy church decorations called " retablos " (church screens), which he not only de- signed, but for which he himself made all the ornaments, either statues or pictures. Alonso Cano lived for some time at Seville, afterwards at Madrid, and towards the close of his life at Granada, his birthplace, and, provided with a rich benefice, tran- quilly passed the last years of a life which had been agitated by travels, passions, and adventures. He died in 1667 "in a manner highly exemplary and edifying to those about him." Cano left seven of his works to the Museum of Madrid. Amongst «(' de of devotion with a cortege :ollege, with a intly scattered •med by Louis ninety-two at- idrid there are Uery, in which \z ?rtist. It is ction of Louis 1 the Duke of }f Zurbaran, a ved this name, ffect; for he is e correct, than It use of bluish :e them appear :ep knowledge )f resemblance , small number d simple ones, iges, whom he lie or popular sque ones, like ans and grace; ideed, has cx- usterity of the and the thick o mortification " do not cease I POLANCO. the "Spanish 'hich are espe- Michelangclo, urc were those e not only de- les or pictures, id towards the benefice, tran- , passions, and ifying to those rid. Amongst MORALES. 99 these arc a St. John ivriting the Apocalypse; the Dead Christ mourned by an Angel, and a fine /V/ra/V. Asa painter, he has been — not unjustly — called the "Spanish Albani," for, contrary to what might have been expected from his passionate temper, the principal characteristics of his works are softness and suavity. IJy a skilful ar- rangement of draperies he makes the outline of the form they cover sufficiently marked. He also took so much care in the execution of hands and feet always a great difficulty — that on this account alone his works might be distinguished from any other painter of his country. Less fiery and powerful than Ribera, less profound •and less brilliant than Murillo, he takes a middle place between these two masters, being correct, elegant, and full of grace. The works of Cano are to be found in most Spanish towns. Luis DE Morales — called El Divino — was born at Badajoz in 1509. Of his life very little is known. About 1564 he was summoned to Madrid by Philip II., who, it is said, was displeased with him for appearing in too rich a dress ; the poor artist e.xplained that he had spent all his spare money in order to buy a costume befitting — as he thought — the occasion, and on hearing this the king was pacified. Morales, however, soon returned to Badajoz. When Philip II. visited that city in 1581, and found the artist in poverty, he gave him a yearly pension of three hundred ducats. Morales lived at his native Badajoz until his death, which took place in 1586. There is one painter vyhom universal admiration has j-aluted by the title "divine." This is Raphael. In Spain, one painter also has received this magnificent surname. But with him, it was not a universal cry of admiration which thus proclaimed his merit and superiority ; 't was, simply, his too great fastidiousness in the choice of his subjects, which always bore the imprint of an ardent piety. This name has, in some respects, been a misfortune to him ; all the pictures of his time which have the slightest analogy with his style are attnbuted to him. When anyone meets with an Ecce Homo, dry, lean, and livid ; a Mater dolorosa with hollow cheeks, pale lips, red eyelids ; even though it be a horrible caricature, he exclaims at once, " There is a divine Morales !" Those who have examined his fine works attentively are not so prodigal of their author's name. His pictures, frequently painted on copper or wood, are as a rule very small and simple ; the most complicated are those representing the Madonna supporting a Dead Christ. There are some works, however, of Morales in which there are whole-length figures, such as the six large paintings of the Passion, which decorate the church of a small town in Estremadura, Higuera de Frcgcnal. Madrid has only succeeded in collecting five works by his hand, which proves that they are rare, when authentic. The Circumcision is the largest, and seems to be the best of the five. If Morales has the defects common to his period ; if he is minute in the execution of the beard and hair; if he may be accused of too much hardnc s in the outlines and too little relief in the model ; we must, at all events acknov ' Ige that he drew with care and correctness, that he understood the anatomy of the nude, and rendered faithfully the fine gradations of demi-tints. He excelled also in the expression of religious grief, and no one has succeeded better than he in painting the agonies of Our Lord when crowned with thorns, or of a Virgin pierced lOO THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. (! I with the seven swords of grief. Genuine works by Morales are rarely to be seen out of Spain. Alonso Sanchez Coello, a Portuguese by birth, was born about the year 1515. He removed when young to Spain, where he afterw.'irds chiefly resided. Alonso Sanchez Coello was not only the pintor de camera to the son of Charles v., but also one of his intimate courtiers (cl privado del rey). Pacheco says, that " the king gave him for his lodging an immense house near the palace, and as he had a key to it ... he often entered at inopportune moments into the painter's apartments ; sometimes the monarch came in when he was at dinner with his family . . . ; at others, he surprised him when painting, and approaching him from behind laid his hand upon his shoulder. . . . Sanchez Coello several times painted the Portrait of the King, armed, on foot, on horseback, in travelling garments, in a cloak and with a cap. He also painted seventeen royal persons, queens, princes, and infantas, who honoured him so much as to enter his house familiarly to hold intercourse with his wife and chil- dren. . . . His house was frequented by the greatest persons of the time. Cardinal Granvelle, the archbishop of Toledo, the archbishop of Seville, and, what was a still greater honour, Don John of Austria, Don Carlos, and such numbers of nobles and ambassadors that many times, horses, litters, coaches, and chairs, filled the two large courts of his house." Sanchez Coello painted several pictures on sacred history for different altars in the Escurial ; and also the portrait of the celebrated founder of the Jesuits, Ignatius Loyola, This portrait, which is said to have been much like him, was painted after his death from a cast of the face taken in wax. Coello died, honoured and regretted, in 1590. He excelled especially in portrait painting. Juan Fernandez Navarrete — called on account of his being deaf and dumb. El Mudo — was born at Logrono in 1526. He is one of the most striking proofs of the power of natural taste, and of its constant superiority to what can be produced by education. If the Roman rhetorician was right in asserting that a poet must be born a poet. El Mudo has shown that a painter must be one from his birth. Deprived of the usual means of communicating with other men, and kept back by the circum- stances surrounding him, he yet succeeded in accomplishing his destiny, merely by following the natural bent of his nature. When about three years old, a severe illness deprived him of his hearing, and, like those who arc deaf from their birth, he was unable to learn to speak. At this time, the Spanish monk. Fray Pedro de Ponce, who preceded by so long a time ^\\c Abbe de I'Epce, had not yet essayed the education of deaf-mutes. (It was about the year 1570 that Fray Pedro de Ponce, a Benedictine monk of the convent of Ono, found means to instruct the two brothers and the sister of the Constable of Castile, all three born deaf) Nothing was taught to Juan during his infancy ; but he soon revealed his true vocation, for he was constantly occupied in drawing on the walls with charcoal every object that he saw around him. His natural talent was shown so clearly in these rough sketches, that his father took him to the convent of La Estrella, at a short distance from Logrono, where one of the monks, Fray Vicente de Santo Domingo, understood painting. This monk became much attached to the young mute; he taught him the first elements of art, and, soon finding his pupil GOYA. lOI making such progress that he could no longer instruct him, he persuaded his parents to send the youth to Italy. El Mudo, whose family was very well off, soon started for the land of the arts. He visited Rome, Naples, Florence, and Venice, and settled down near Titian, whose disciple he became. His residence in Italy was long— twenty years at the least. When in 1568 his reputation, already great, and doubtless increased by the fact of his infirmity, reached Spain, Philip II., who was beginning the decorations of the Escu- rial, sent for him to return to Spain. It was at the Escurial that El Mudo completed his principal work, a series of eight large pictures, some of which have since perished in a fire. Amongst those which were preserved may be mentioned, a Natmty, in which El Mudo undertook to vanquish a formidable difficulty ; he introduced three different lights into his picture ; one which proceeds from the Holy Child, another which descends from the Glory and extends over the whole picture, and a third from a torch held by St. Joseph. The group of shepherds is the best part of the composi- tion. It is said that the Florentine painter, T>elligrino Tibaldi, never wearied of admiring them, and was continually calling out in his enthusiasm: Oh ! gli belli pastori ! This exclamation has become the title of the picture, which is called the Beautiful Shepherds. El Mudo died at Toledo in 1579. The works of this artist are scarcely known at all, for those which still exist are buried in the royal solitude of the Escu- rial, and are now almost inaccessible. We must, then, be satisfied with hearing that he was unanimously called the " Spanish Titian." Fraxcesca Goya y Lucientes was born at Fuente de Todos in 1746. He was his own master, and took lessons only of the old masters. From this singular educa- tion his talent took a peculiar bent — inaccurate, wild, and without method or style, but full of nerve, boldness, and originality. Goya is the last heir, in a very distant degree, of the great Velasquez. His is the same manner, but looser and more fiery. Being under no delusion as to the extent of his own talent; Goya did not lose him- self in too high-flown ideas ; he confined himself to village processions, choristers, and scenes of bull- races — in short, to all .sorts of painted caricatures. In this genre he is full of wit, and his execution is always superior to the subjects. But, like Velasquez, Goya founds his best title to celebrity on his portraits. His equestrian portraits of Charles IV. and Maria Louisa have been placed in the vestibule of the Museo del Rey. These Avorks are, doubtless, very imperfect, being full of glaring faults, especially in the forms of the horses. But the heads and busts have singular beauty ; and on the whole, though very defective when analyzed, there is so much effect, such truth in the colouring, and boldness in the couch, that one cannot fail to admire these high qualities, although regretting the essential defects which they can- not entirely redeem. CHAPTER XII. FRENCH ART—NICOLAS POUSSIN— CLAUDE LORRAINE— CHARLES LE BRUN— WA T TEA U— G R EUZE. |lCOLAS POUSSIN was born at Andcly in Normandy in 1594. Of his parcnta{jc' little seems to have been ascertained, but it is believed that he was well educated, and his classical learning in after life was reckoned great. I le was regularly trained to be a painter under a master in his native town, and afterwards in Paris. Dissatisfied with the patronage which he received in Paris, Poussin went to Rome when he was about thirty years of age. In Rome he is said to nave lived on familiar terms with a sculptor whose devotion to antique art in- fluenced his taste, and lent it the strong classical bent which it retained. Poussin studied regularly in the school of Donienichino. After some delay in attracting public notice, The Death of Geniianicits, and The Capture of Jerusalem, which Poussin painted for Cardinal Barberini, won general approval. In 1629, when Nicolas Poussin was in his thirty-fifth year, he married the sister of his pupil, Caspar Dughet, who took Poussin's name, and is known as a painter, inferior to his master, by the name of Caspar Poussin. Nicolas Poussin returned to Paris when he was a middle-aged man, was pre- sented to the king, Louis XIII., by Cardinal Richelieu, and offered apartments in the Tuileries, with the title of painter in ordinary, and a salary of a hundred and twenty pounds a year. Poussin agreed to .settle in Paris, but on his going back to Rome to fetch his wife, and on the King of France's dying, the attractions of the Eternal City proved too great for the painter, and in place of removing his household and studio to his native country, he lived for the rest of his years in Rome, and died there in 1665, when he was seventy-one years of age. I'l.xcept what can be judged of him from his work, we do not know that much has been gathered of the private character and life of Nicolas Poussin, notwithstanding that there was a biography written of him fifty years ago by Lady Calcott, and that his letters have been published in Paris. In the absence of conclusive testimony one 103 ii 'I, ■ C> ,L L 'Vr. vS NICOLAS POUSSIN. 103 may conclude with some probability that ho was " quiet," like his best paintings ; a man who minded his own business, and did not trouble the world by astonishing actions, good or bad. In painting his own picture, from which an engraving has been taken, Poussin's classical preferences seem to have passed into the likeness, for in the dress of the seventeenth century, the cloak (not unlike a toga), the massive hand with the heavy signet-ring resting on what looks like a closed portfolio, the painter has something of the severe air and haughty expression of an old Roman ; still more, perhaps, of the French- Romans, if we may call them so, of whom revolutionary times nearly two centuries later, afforded so many examples. This is a handsome, dignified face, with austerity in its pride. The slightly curled hair is thrown back with a certain con- sciousness from the knit brow, and from the shoulders. There is only the faintest shadow of a moustache over the cleanly cut, firmly closed mouth. Poussin painted largely, and his pictures have been often engraved. With harmonious composition, good drawing and colouring, his pictures alike profited antl suffered from the classical atmosphere in which they had their being. They gained in that correctness which in its highest form bee incs noble truthfulness, but they lost in freedom. The figures in the pictures had tri quently the statuesqueness whicli in sculpture suits the material, but in paintinfT is .-.tiffness. Nicolas Poussin had an xceptional re 'Mtion lor a hi -t ^ncal painter in lii.s day. As a landscape painter, Mr. Ruskin, while waging war with Nicolas Poussin's brother-in-law and assumed namesake, Caspar, notably excepts Nicolas from his severest strictures, and treats his efforts in landsc.ipe painting with markoil respect. At the same time, however, the critic censures tlic painter for a want of thorough acquaintance with nature, and the lav/s of nature, ignorance not uncommon in any day, and nearly universal in Nicolas Poussin's day. "The grc.it nnst'^r of elevated ideal landscape," ^Ir. Ruskin calls Nicolas Poussin, and ilUistrates his excellence in one respect, after contrasting it with the slovenliness of Sir Joshua ReynoUIs, by describing the vine in Poussin's Nursing of Jupiter, in the Duhvich Gallery, thu';; — " Iwery vine-leaf, drawn with consummate skill and untiring diligence, produces not only a true group of the most perfect grace and beauty, but one which in its pure and simple truth belongs to every age of nature, and adapts itself to the history of all time." ■" One of the finest landscapes that ancient art has jiroduced, the work of a really great mind," Mr. Ruskin distinguishes the Phocian of Nicolas Poussin in the National Gallery, before proceeding to point out its faults. Again, Mr. Ruskin, writing of the street in the centre of another landscape by Nicolas Poussin, indicates it with emphasis : — " the street in the centre of the really great landscape of Poussin (great in feeling, at least) marked 360 in the Dulu ich Gallery." The criticism with which Mr. Ruskin follows up this praise is so perfect u bit of word-painting, that we cannot refrain from writing it down here. " The houses are dead square masses, with a light side and a dark side, and black touches for windows. There is no suggestion of anything in any of the spaces, the I'ght wall is dead grey, the dark wall dead grey, and the windows dead black. How differently would nature have treated us. She would have let us see the Indian corn hanLrin^r I04 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. on the walls, and the image of the Virgin at the angles ; and the sharp, broken, broad shadows of the tiled eaves, and the deep ribbed tiles with the doves upon them, and the carved Roman capital built into the wall, and the white and blue stripes of the mattresses stuffed out of the windows, and the flapping corners of the neat blinds. All would have been here ; not as such, not like the corn, nor blinds, nor jtiles, not to be comprehended nor understood, but a confusion of yellow and black spots and strokes, carried far too fine for the eye to follow ; microscopic in its minuteness, and filling every atom and space with mystery, out of which would have arranged itself the general impression of truth and life." Once more, Mr. Ruskin freely admits that " all the landscape of Nicolas Poussin is imagination." Mr. Raskin's first definition of ideal landscape is in this manner. Every different tree and leaf, every bud, has a perfect form, which, were it not for disease or accident, it would have attained ; just as every individual human face has an ideal form, which but for sin and suffering it would present: and the ideal landscape-painter has realized the perfect form, and offers it to the world, and that in a sense quite distinct from the fallacy of improving nature. But we wish to take our readers further into imaginative landscape, and to show it to them, if possible, under additional lights. We despair of succeeding if we cannot do it by one or two simple examples. In passing through a gallery we may stop before a picture to be struck, almost startled, by the e.xact copy which it presents of some scene in nature; how like the clouds in the sky, the leaves on the trees, the very plumage of the birds! liut pass on to another picture which may or may not have the same exact likeness, and we are possessed with quite another feeling; instead of being m.erely surprised by the cleverness of the imitation, wc feel a thrill of delight at a reproduction of nature. In this picture there are not only the clouds we remember, but we can almost feel the shadows which they cast, and the air which stirs them. These tree-leaves are not only green, or yellow, or russet, they are tender, or crisp living leaves. One half expects to see the birds' throats swell, and hear the sweetness or the shrillness of their songs. The first picture, with all its correctness, brightness, richness, or delicacy it may be, remains bare, hard, and barren, compared to the second. We cannot explain to our readers the cause of the difference, we can only show it to them as they may see it for themselves, and say that we suppose it proceeds from this — that the second painter has seen farther into the heart of nature than the first, and has been able by subtler touches to make us .see with his eyes. Again, landscape often tells a story, and tells it inimitably. Our readers have heard of the ballad of the " Twa Corbies," which the writer of the ballad has made to meet and tell gruesomcly where and on what carrion their feast has been. Suppo.se the writer of the ballad had been a painter, he might have painted the story as intelligibly by the lone hill-side, the bleaching bones of the faithful hound and gallant grey, the two loathly blue-black birds satiated with their prey. There is a significant old .Scotch song with a ballad ring, by I^idy Nairne, two verses of which form each a complete picture not only of different seasons, but of different phases of feeling — happiness and misery. arp, broken, doves upon :e and blue rners of the nor blinds, yellow and copic in its would have Mr. Raskin cry different or accident, form, which has realized let from the and to show if we cannot ,vc may stop presents of lie trees, the or may not ing; instead ill of delight : clouds we le air which ;ct, they are :s swell, and icacy it may >t explain to hey may see : the second )ccn able by readers have has made to :n. Suppose the story as :1 and gallant ; a significant I form each a of feeling — CLAUDE LORRAINE. 105 "Bonnie rai the burnie down, Wandering and winding ; L../eetly sang tiie birds aboon. Care never minding. " But now the burn comes down apace, Roaring and reaming, And for the wee birdies' sang Wild howlets screaming." Imagine these two verses painted, and the painter, from a lack of comprehension, introducing the "wild howlets screaming" beside the burnie, "wandering and winding," and the " wee birdies" foolishly and inconsenuently singing with their feeble song drowned in the rush of the burn (no longer a burnie), "roaring and reaming," when the "spate" is spreading desolation on every side. Don't we see how the picture would be spoilt, and the story of complete contrast left untold ? We have taken advisedly an extreme and therefore an unlikely case of halting imagina- tion. But in imaginative landscape every " white flower with its purple stain," every crushed butterfly, is made to play its part in the whole, and at the same time due proportion is never lost sight of, and the less is always kept subordinate to the greater. We have already had occasion to mention examples of Nicolas Poussin in the National Gallery and in Dulwich Gallery. Claude Gelee, better known as Claude Lorraine, was a native of Lorraine, and was born at Chateau de Chamagne in the Vosges, in 1600. His parents were in humble life, and apprenticed Claude to a baker and pastry-cook. According to some biographers the cooks of Lorraine were in such request that they occasionally repaired to Rome with their apprentices in their train to serve the successor of St. Peter, and Claude was thus carried, in the way of trade, to the city which might well have been the goal of his ambition. According to other writers of art histories, Claude abandoned the kneading-trough and the oven; and it was as a runaway apprentice that by some occult means he reached Rome. And when he had arrived he entered into the service of a landscape painter of good repute, to whom he was colour-boy as well as cook. The last is the account, so far, which Claude gave of himself to a friend, and it is hardly likely either that he misrepresented his history, or that his friend invented such details, though lately French authorities have questioned the authenticity of the narrative. Claude remained for nearly the entire remainder of a long life in Rome. He only once re-visited France, while he was yet a young man. under thirty years of age, in 1625 or 1627. He is supposed to have painted his earliest pictures and executed his etchings about this time, 1630, and to have painted his best pictures fifteen years later, when he was in the tnaturity of his life and powers. He was counted successful during his life-time, as a landscape painter, but did not amass a larger fortune than about $10,000. He was a slow a:;d careful painter (working a fortnight at a picture with little apparent progress) ; his pains- taking work, and his custom of keeping a book, in which he verified his pictures, are about the most that we can tell of the habits of one of the foreign painters, who has p i' !l i I i ■ I \ THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. been more fully represented in England, than anywhere else. Claude Lorraine died at Rome in the eighty-third year of his age, in 1682. Claude Lorraine's name has become a very vexed name with art critics. There was a time when he had an unsurpassed reputation as a landscape painter. The possession of a Claude was enough to confer art glory on a country-house, and possibly for this reason England, in public and private collections, has more "Claudes" than are held by any other country. But Claude's admirers, among whom Sir George Beaumont, the great art critic of his generation, took the lead, have had their day, and, if they have not by any means passed away, are on the wane. The wrathful indignation of the English landscape painter. Turner, at the praise which was so glibly lavished on Claude — an indignation that caused Turner to bequeath two of his own landscape paintings to the trustees of the National Gallery, on the caustic condition that they should always be placed between the two celebrated " Claudes," known as The Marriage of Isaac and Rebecca and Tlie Embarkation of the Queen of Shcba — helped to shake the English art world's faith in its former idol. Mr Ruskin's adoption and proclamation of Turner's opinion shook the old faith still further. This reversal of a verdict with regard to Claude is peculiar ; it is by no means uncommon for the decision of contemporaries to be set aside, and we shall hear of an instance presently, in the case of the painter Lc Brun. In fact, it is often ominous with regard to a man's future fame, when he is " cried up to the skies " in his own day. The probability may be that his easy success has been won by something superficial and fleeting. But Claude's great popularity has been in another generation, and with another nation. English taste may have been in fault; or another explanation seems preferable — that Claude's sense of beauty was great, with all its faults of expression, and he gave such glimpses of a beautiful world as the gazers on his pictures were capable of receiving, which to them proved irresistible. While Claude adopted an original style as a landscape painter, so far as his con- temporaries were concerned, he was to such a degree self-taught, and only partially taught, that it is said he never learnt to paint figures — those in his pictures were painted by other painters, and that Claude even painted animals badly. Mr. Ruskin has been hard on Claude, whether justly or unjustly, we cannot pretend to say. The critic denies the painter not only a sense of truth in art, but all imagination as a landscape painter. Claude was fond of painting scenes on the Tiber and in the Roman Campagna, but while he tried to reproduce the hills and woodlands of Italy, he did not seek to paint the mountain landscapes of the Apennines. Besides Claude's numerous works in England and scattered through other countries, some of his finest paintings are in the Doria and Sciarra palaces in Rome. He rarely put his name to his works; when he did so he signed it frequently "Claudio," sometimes "Claudius." We have spoken of his book of sketches, in which he had been wont to note on the back of the sketch the date of the completed picture, and to whom sold. This book he called the " Libro di Verita," or, Book of laudc Lorraine died art critics. There icape painter. The country-house, and ections, has more s admirers, among :ion, took the lead, d away, are on the 'urner, at the praise caused Turner to e National Gallery, between the two Rebecca and The art world's faith in ner's opinion shook ;gard to Claude is mporarics to be set e painter Lc Brun. en he is " cried up iy success has been lopularity has been have been in fault ; beauty was great, lutiful world as the Dved irresistible, so far as his con- and only partially his pictures were badly. njustly, we cannot but all imagination Roman Campagna, le did not seek to cd through other palaces in Rome. gned it frequently sketches, in which of the completed erita," or, Book of •S is ( ( 1 f' I f : I LE BRUN. 107 Truth, and its apparent use was to check the sale of spurious paintings in Claude's name, even during his life-time. The " Book of Truth" is in possession of the Duke of Devonshire, and has been employed in recent years with reference to the end for which it seemed designed, so woe to that country-house which has long prided itself on possessing a " Claude," if that " Claude " does not happen to have a place in the " Book of Truth," though we do not know that it is at all certain that Claude took the precaution of inscribing cucry painting which he painted after a certain date in the " Book of Truth." Jacques Callot, the son of a noble family, was born at Nancy in Lorraine in 1592. He was an enemy to all discipline, and, in order to give free course to his fancy, fled from his father's house in the train of a troop of mountebanks. Entirely occupied with etching according to processes of his own invention — his Biggars, Gipsies, Nobles, Droits, and scenes descriptive of the Miseries of War, Callot finished but a very small number of paintings. Thus, while he has left fifteen or sixteen hundred engravings, both large and small, we have not met with more than two pictures bearing his name, the Military Execution, at Dresden, and the Village Fair, at Vienna ; both are on copper, with very small figures, and such pale colouring that at the first glance one is not favourably impressed. Callot's talent has remained so thoroughly siii generis that he has had no descendants. He was a great artist, who has no place in the history of the fine arts, even of his own country. He died at Nancy in 1635. Charles le Brun was born in Paris, in 1619. He was trained to be a painter, and went young to Rome, studying there for six years under the guidance of Nicolas Poussin. Le Brun returned to Paris, and, through the patronage of the Chancellor Segnier, was introduced to the court, and got the most favourable opportunities of practising his profession with worldly success. He speedily acquired a great name, and was appointed painter to the King, Louis XIV. Le Brun had enough influence with his royal master, and with the great minister Colbert, to succeed in establishing, while the painter was yet a young man, the Royal Academy of Art, of which he was the first member, and virtually the head, holding, in his own person, the directorship of the Gobelin tapestry works, which was to be the privilege of a member of the Aca- demy. Le Brun continued in the utmost favour with the King, who, not content with employing the painter largely at Fontainebleau and in Versailles, invested him with the order of St. Michael, bestowed on him lettej-s of nobility, and visited him frequently at his work, occasions when there were not wanting adroit courtiers to liken the Grand Monarque to the Emperor Charles V., and Le Brun to Titian. Le Brun seems to have been a man of energy, confidence, and industry, neither mentally before nor after his time, and by no means too retiring, meditative, or origi- nal, to fail to profit by his outward good fortune. He wrote, as well as painted, ar- tistic treatises, which were received as oracular utterances, and entirely deferred to in the schools of his day. He died at Paris in 1690, when he was in his sev<;ntieth year. Le Brun's real merits as a painter were limited to respectable abilities and ac- quirements, together with florid quickness and ease, and such an eye to what was 5 ! i ; i I TABLE BOOK OF ART. splendid and scenic as suited admirably a decorator of palaces in an age which prized sumptuousncss, and an exaggeration of dramatic effect, over every other quality. Nicolas Poussin's quiet refinement of style became in Le Brun what is called academic (conventionally learned), pompous, and grandiose, and men decidedly preferred the degeneration. But later critics, who have not the natural partiality of the French to the old master, return to their first loves, and condemn Le Brun's swelling violence, both in the tints and poses of his figures. Among his most famous works, which have been magnificently engraved, are his " Battles of Alexander." A.NTOiNE VVatteau was born at Valenciennes in 1684. A very different painter from Le Brun, he was yet as characteristic of French art in the reign of Louis XIV. We don't know if his birth-place at Valenciennes, with its chief product of dainty lace, had anything to do with it, but the other items of poor Watteau's history are considerably removed from the very artificial grace which one connects with his name. He was the son of a carpenter, and struggled up, by the hard instrumentality of third- rate masters and of picture-dealers, to the rank which he attained among artists, taking his stand from the first, however, as the painter of well-bred, well-apparelled people — the frequenters of bah masques, and fetes champetrcs, who were only playing at shep- herds and shepherdesses. Watteau was elected an Academician in 17 17, when he was thirty-three years of age, and he afterwards came to England, but did not remain there. He died of con- sumption at Nogent-sur-Marne in 1721, when he was thirty-six years of age. Wat- teau's gifts were his grace and brilliance on a small scale. He did not draw well; as to design, his composition may be said to be suited to such a work as the collection of "fashionable figures," which he engraved and left behind him. Yet, if we were to see at this moment some of his exquisite groups of ladies in sacques and Watteau hats, and cavaliers in flowing wigs and lace cravats, we have no doubt that the most of us would admire them much, for they are exceedingly pretty, and exceeding pretti- ness is attractive, particularly to women. But we would have our readers remember that this art is a finical and soulless art, after all. We would fain have them take this as their maxim, "That the art is greate". which conveys to the mind of the spectator, by any means whatsoever, the greatest number of the greatest ideas." Je.\n B.\ptiste Greuze was born at Tournus in Burgundy in 1726. He studied painting from his youth in the studios of artists at Lyons, Paris, and Rome, and his studies resulted in his being a celebrated genre painter. He only painted one histori- cal picture, but, with the touchy vanity which seemed natural to the man, he ranked his genre pictures as high art; and when he was placed in the ordinary list of genre painters on his election as a member of the French Academy of Painting, Greuze re- sented the imputation, and withdrew from the Academy. He died in 1805, aged seventy-nine years. Greuze was a showy, clever, but neither earnest nor truthful painter of domestic subjects and family pictures. His pictures of women and heads of girls are among his best known works, and by these he is represented in the Na- tional Gallery, London. CHAPTER XIII. studied and his histori- ranked >f genre uze re- 5. aged truthful d heads he Na- » irt> 1 1 X f u: \ 1 r i- — — ' THE FOREIGN SCHOOL OF ENGLAND.— HOLBEIN, VAN DYCK, LELY, CANALETTO, KNELLER. I ANS HOLBEIN, sorretimes entitled Hans the Younger, was born at Augsburg about 1494 or 1495. He was the son of a painter, and belonged to a family of painters, one or more of whom had preceded Hans Holbein in leaving Augsburg, and taking up his residence at Basle. There Holbein was under the patronage of and on terms of friendly intercourse with, the great scholar Erasmus. One bad result proceeded from this friendly familiarity, that of establishing or originating the charge that Holbein, as a young man, at least, was coarse and dissipated in his habits. The evidence is sufficiently curious. There is still in existence the copy of a Latin book, called the " Praise of Folly," written by Erasmus, which Holbein, not being a scholar, could not have read for himself, but which, according to tradition, I'>asmus himself, or some other friend, read to him, while Holbein was so delighted with the satire, that he covered the margin of the hook with illustrative sketches. (The sketches remain, and are unmistakably Holbein's.) Opposite a passage, recording the want of common sense and energy in many learned men, Holbein had drawn the figure of a student, and written below, "Erasmus." The book coming again into the hands of Erasmus, he was offended with the liberty taken by the painter, and sought to retaliate in kind by writing below the sketch of a rude boor drinking, "Holbein^ In spite of the rough jesting, the friendship between scholar and painter was not interrupted. In these i arly days Holbein sometimes practised painting on glass, after the ex- ample of some of his kinsmen. At Basle, Holbein painted what is considered his finest work, the Meier Madonna, now at Darmstadt, with a copy in the Dresden Gal- lery, and there he executed the designs for his series of wood-cuts of the Dance of Death. At Basle Holbein married, while still a young man. The presumption that the painter's marriage, like that of his countryman, Albert Diircr, was unhappy, has 109 fi !.l TIf£ TABLE BOOK OF ART. rested nil the foundation that he left his wife and her children behind when he repaired to England, and that although he re-visited Basle, and saw his wife and family, they did not return with him to England. A fancied confirmation to the unhappiiiess of the marriage is found in the expression of the wife in a portrait which I lolbein painted of her and his children when he was at Basle. " Cross-looking and red-eyed," one critic calls the unlucky woman ; anot'ier describes her as "a plain, coarse-looking, nMddle-aged woman," with an expression " certainly mysterious and unpleasant." Holbein's latest biographer has proved that the forsaken wife, Elssbeth Schniid, was a widow with one son when I lolbein married her, and has conjectured that she was probably not only older than Holbein, but in circumstances which ren- dered her independent of her husband. So far the critic has done something to clear Hans Holbein from the miserable accusation often brought against him, that he aban- doned his wife and children to starve at Basle, while he sunned himself in such court favour as could be found in England. But, indeed, while Hans Holbein may have been honest and humane enough to have been above such base suspicions, there is no tnicc of him which survives that goes to disprove the probability that he was a self-willed, not over-scrupulous man, if he was also a vigorous and thorough worker. Holbein went to England about 1526 or 1527, when he must have been thirty- one or thirty-two years of age, and repaired to Chelsea to the house of Sir Thomas More, to whom the painter brought a letter of introduction, and still better creden- tials in the present, from Erasmus to More, of the portrait of Erasmus, painted by Hans Holbein. There arc so many portraits and copies of portraits of Erasmus, not only by Holbein, but by other painters — for Erasmus was painted by Albert Diirer and Qiiintin Matsys — that this special portrait, like the true Holbein family portrait of the More family, remains very much a subject of speculation. Most of us must be well acquainted with the delightful account which Erasmus gave of Sir Thomas More's country-house at Chelsea, and the life of its occupants. It has been cited hundreds of times as an example of what an English family has been, and what it may be in dutiful discipline, simple industry, and high cultivation, when Sir Thomas's young daughters repeated psalms in Latin to beguile the time in the drudging pro- cess of churning the butter. During Holbein's residence in or visits to the Mores' house at Chelsea, he sketched or painted the original of the More family picture. Holbein was introduced to Henry VHI. by Sir Thomas More, and was immedi- ately taken into favour by the king, and received into his service, with a lodging in the palace, a general salary of thirty pounds a year, and separate payment for his paintings. According to Horace Walpole, Holbein's palace lodging Avas probably " the little study called the new library " of square glazed bricks of different colours, designed by the painter at Whitehall. (This gateway, with the porch at Wilton, were the painter's chief architectural achievements). By another statement, Holbein's house was on London Bridge, where it was destroyed in the great fire. We have already alluded to the anecdote of the value which Henrj- VHI. put on Holbein. It was to this effect: that when an aggrieved courtier complained to the king that the painter had taken precedence of him — a nobleman, the king replied, "I have many noblemen, but I have only one Hans Holbein." In faot, Holbein received (hen he I'ife and I to the it which ing and 'a plain, ous and Elssboth ijccturcd lich ron- ; to clear he aban- ich court nay have , there is lie was a \ worker. :n thirty- • Thomas r creden- ainted by smiis, not crt Durer y portrait f us must r Thomas seen cited id what it Thomas's Iging pro- he Mores' icture. IS immedi- lodging in ent for his s probably nt colours, I'lhon, were , Holbein's HI. put on incd to the replied, "I cin received ,1 I i i 1 i HOLBEIN, III nothing save kindness from Henry VIII. ; and for that matter, there seemed to be somctliing in common between blufif King Hal and tlie equally bluff German Hans. But on one occasion Hans Holbein was said to have run the risk of forfeiting his imperious master's favour by the too favourable miniat'ire which the painter was accused of painting of Anne of Clevcs. At Henry's court Holbein painted many a member of the royal family, noble and knight, and English gentleman and lady. His fortune had made him a portrait painter, but he was fully equal to other branches of art, as shown by his Mekr Miiihmna, and still more by the designs w'lich have been preserved of his famous allegory of the Triumphs of Riches ami Pm'erty, painted for the hall of the li^asterling Steelyard, the quarters of the merchants of AUcmagne, then traders in London. In addition to painting portraits Holbein designed dagger hilts, clasps, cups, as some say after a study of the goldsmith's work of Cellini. For a long time it was believed that Hans Holbein died after Mary Tudor suc- ceeded to the English throne ; indeed, some said that his death had been occasioned or hastened by that change in the affairs of men, which compelled him to quit his lodgings in the palace to make room for " the new painter," Sir Antony More, who came in the suite of Mary's well-beloved husband, Philip of Spain. There was even a thcot • creditable to Hans Holbein, drawn from this conclusion, that he might have adopted the Protestant views of his late gracious master, and have stood by them stoutly, and .so far forfeited all recognition from the bitter Catholic Mary. But, unfortunately for the tradition and theory, and for the later pictures attributed to Hans Holbein, his will has been discovered, and that quite recently, provinfj, from the date of its administration, his death of the plague (so far only the tradition had been right), when yet only in his forty-eighth year, as early as 1 543, four yea*- • before the death of Henry VIH. In spite of court patronage Holbein did not die a rich man, and there is an impression that he was recklessly improvident in his habits. Holbein had revisited Basle .several times, and the council had settled on him a pension of fifty florins a year, provided he would return and reside in Basle within two years, while his wife was to receive a pension of forty florins a year during Holbein's two years' absence. Holbein did not comply with the terms of the settle- ment. About the time of his death his son Philip, then a lad of eighteen, was a goldsmith in Paris. Of Hans Holbein's portraits we have two to draw from ; one, painted in his youth at Basle, shows the painter in an open doublet, and curious stomacher-like shirt, and having on his head a great flapping hat. His face is broad and smooth-skinned, with little hair seen, and the features, the eyes especially, rather small for such an expanse of cheek and chin. The other picture of Holbein to which we have referred belongs certainly to a considerably later period of his life, and represents him with short but bushy hair, and short bushy beard and moustache, a man having a broad stout person with a mixture of dauntlessness and bonhomtnie in his massive face. Mr. Ruskin says of Holbein, as a painter, that he was complete in intellect; what he saw he saw with his whole soul, and what he painted he painted with his whole might. I 12 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. , ' '■ • I In deep and reverential feeling Holbein was far behind his countryman Albert Diirer, but Holbein was far more fully furnished than Diirer (unless indeed as Albrecht Diirer showed himself in that last picture of //w Apostles) in the means of his art ; he was a better draughtsman in the maturity of his powers, and a far better colourist. For Hans Holbein was not more famous for the living truthfulness of his likenesses (" a man very excellent in making physiognomies "), than for the " inimita- ble bloom " that he imparted to his pictures, which " he touched till not a touch became discernible." Yet beneath this bloom, along with his truthfulness, there was a dryness and hardness in Holbein's treatment of his subjects, and he is far below Titian, Rubens, and even Rembrandt as a portrait painter. Holbein was in the habit of painting his larger portraits on a peculiar green, and his miniatures on a blue background. He drew his portrait sketches with black and red chalk on a paper tinted flesh-colour. It is said, that with the exception of Philip Wouvvcrmann, no painter has been so unfortunate in having the works of other pain- ters attributed to him as Hans Holbein has been, and "that three out of every four pictures ascribed to him are misnamed." The Meier, or Meyer ^[adonna, is otherwise called the Meier Family adoring the infant Christ in the arms of the J'irgin. The subject is understood to prove that it must ha\'e been painted in Holbein's youth, before Protestantism was triumphant at Basle. The figures are the Burgomaster Meier and his wife, whom Holbein painted twice; their .son, with a little boy nnde beside him; another woman, elderly, con- jectured to be a grandmother of the family, and beside her the young daughter of the house. In the centre on a turkey carpet stands the Madonna, hokiing in her arms an infant stretching out its left hand to the group of worshippers. In course of time, and in its transfer from hand to hand, a doubt has arisen with regard to the subject of this picture. Some critics have regarded it as a votive picture dedicated in a private chapel to commemorate the recovery from sickness or the death of a child. This conjecture seems to rest mainly on the fact, that the child in the Dresden copy (it is said to be otherwise in the Darmstadt picture) is of an aspect so sickly, as to have given rise to the impression that it represented an ailing, or even a dead child, and no glorious child Christ. Critics have gone still farther, and imagined that the child is a figure of the soul of a dead child (souls were sometimes painted by the old painters as new-born children), or of the soul of the eUIer and somewhat muffled-up woman who might have been recently dead. Mr. Ruskin regards the picture as an offering for the recovery of a sick child. The idea, oi \.\\c Danee of Death did not originate with Holbein, neither is he supposed to have done more than touch, if he did touch, the ])aintings called the Danee of Death, on the wall of the Dominican burial-grountl, Basle, painted long before Holbein's day, by the order of the council after the plague visited B.isie, and considered to have for its meaning simply a warning of the universality of death. But Holbein certainly availed himself of the older painting, to draw from it the grim satire of his wood-cuts. Of these there are thirty-seven designs, the first, The Creation; the sccontl, Adam and live in Paradise; the third, 'J7ie Expnlsion from Paradise; the {q\xx\.\\, Adam Tilling the Earth; the fifth, The Bones of all People ; till r man Albert 3 indeed as ic means of a far better ilness of his 10 " inimita- not a touch is, there was is far below r green, and h black- and ion of Philip f other pain- jf every four V adorinff the prove that it iuniphant at Ibein painted elderly, con- u^hter of the in her arms In course of ecard to the dedicated in th of a child. )resden copy sickly, as to 1 dead child, ned that the (jd by the old ;it muffled-up iicture as an neither is he rs called the painted long oil llisle, and lity of death, m it the grim he first, The 'xpiilsion from til People; till VAN DYCK. 11^ the dance really begins in the sixth. Death, a skeleton, as seen through the rest of the designs, sometimes playing on a guitar or lute, sometimes carrying a drum, bag- pipes, a dulcimer, or a fiddle, now appearing with mitre on head and crozier in hand to sunnnon the Abbot ; then marching before the parson with bell, book, and candle ; again crowned with ivy, when he seizes the Duke, claims his partners, beginning with the Pope, going down impartially through limperor. King (the face is supposed to be that of P'rancis I.), nobleman, advocate, physician, ploughman, countess, old woman, little child, &c. &c., and leading each unwilling or willing victim in turn to Mie terrible dance. One woman meets her doom by Death in the character of a robber in a wood. Another, the Duchess, sits up in bed fully dressed, roused from her sleep by two skeletons, one of them playing a fiddle. Granting the grotesqueness, freedom, variety, and wonderful precision of these woodcuts, we beg our readers to contrast their spirit with that of Albrecht Diirer's The Knight, Death, ami the Devil, or Orcagna's 'Triitaiph of Death. In I lolbcin's designs there is no noble consoling faith ; there is but a fierce defiance and wild mockery of inevitable fate, such as goes beyond the levity with which the Vcnitians in the time of the plague retired to their country-houses and danced, sung, and told tales, till the pestilence was upon them. It has a closer resemblance to the piteous madness with which the condemned prisoners during the French Reign of Terror rehearsed the falling of the guillotine, or the terrible pageant with which the same French, as represented by their Parisian brethren, professed to hail the arrival of the cholera. The mininture of Anne of Cleves, if it ever existed, is Xo'^X ; it is probable that what was really referred to was the portrait of Anne by Molbein in the Louvre, where she appears " as a kindly and comely woman in spite of her broad nose and swarthy complexion, but by no means such a painted Venus as might have deceived King Hal." A well-known portrait by Holbein is that of a Cornish Gentleman, with reddish hair and beard. We saw this portrait not long ago, as it was exhibited among the works of the Old Masters, and so much did it look as though the figure would step from thj frame, that it was hard to believe that more than three hundred j-ears had passed since the original walked the earth. Doubtless the last of Ho'bein's portrait pieces, which it is reported he left unconjplcted when he tlied, is that of the Barlier Snrgeons, painted on the occasion of the united company receiving their charter from the king, and including the king's portrait. This picture still hangs in the old company's hall. Antonv V.\n Dvck was born at Antwerp, in 1599. His father was a merchant; his mother was famous for painting flowers in small, and for needlework in silk. The fashion of painting " in small " had prevailed for some time. Horace Walpole men- tions that the mother of Lucas do Heere, a P'lemish painter, born in 1534, could paint with such "diminutive neatness" that she had e.vecuted " a landscape with a windmill, miller, a cart and horse, and passengers," which half a grain of corn could cover. At ten yv';>rs of age, Van Dyck began to study as a painter, and he soon became a pupil, and afterwards a favourite pupil, of Rubens. In 16 18, when Van \ \ 114 TIfi: TABLE BOOK OF ART. Dyck was but a lad of seventeen years, he was admitted as a master into the painters' guild of St. Luke. Two years later, he was still working with Rubens, who, seeing his tamcness of invention, counselled him to abide by portrait painting, and to visit Italy. A year later, in 1621, when Van Dyck was twenty years of age, he went to London, already becoming a resort of I'lemish painters, and lodging with a country- man of his own. worked for a short time in the service of James \. On Van Dyck's return to Flanders, and on the death of his father, he was able to take Rubens' advice, and in 1623, when Van Dyck was still only twenty-two years of age, he set out for Venice, the Rome of the Flemish painters. Before quitting Antwerp, Van Dyck, in proof of the friendship which existed between the painters, presented Rubens with several of the former's pictures, among them his famous por- trait of Rubens' tc'i/c. As a pendant to this generosity, when Van Dyck came back to Antwerp, and complained to Rubens that he — Van Dyck — could not live on the profits of his painting, Rubens went next day and bought every picture of Van Dyck's which was for sale. Van Dyck spent five years in Italy, visiting Venice, Florence, Rome, and Palermo, but residing principally at Genoa. In Italy, he began to indulge in his love of splendid extravagance, and in the fastidious fickleness which belonged to the evil side of his character. At Rome he was called " the cavalier painter," yet his first com- plaint on his return to Antwerp was, that he could not live on the profits of his paint- ing ! He avoided the society of his homelier countrymen. At Palermo, Van Dyck knew, and according to some accounts, painted the por- trait of Sophonisba Anguisciola, who claimed to be the most eminent portrait painter among women. She was then about ninety years of age, and blind, but she still delighted in having in her house a kind of academy of painting, to which all the painters visiting Palermo resorted. Van Dyck asserted that he owed more to her con- versation than to the teaching of all the schools. A book of his sketches, which was recovered, showed many drawings " after Sophonisba Anguisciola." She is said to have been born at Cremona, was invited at the age of twenty-six by Philip II. to Spain, and was presented by him with a Spanish don for a husband, and a pension of a thousand crowns a year from the customs of Palermo. The plague drove Van Dyck from Italy back to Flanders, where he painted for a time, and presented his picture of the Crucifixion to the Dominicans as a memorial gift in honour of hi.s father, but in Inlanders Rubens' fame overshadowed that of every other painter, and Van Dyck, recalling an invitation which he had received from the Countess of Arundel while still in Italy, went a second time to luigland, in 1630, when he was about thirty years of aj,.', and lodged again with a fellow-country- man and painter named Gildorp. But his sensitive vanity was wounded by his not at once receiving an introduction to the king, or the countenance which the painter considered his due, and the restlessness, which was a prominent feature in his charac- ter, being re-awakened, lie withdrew once more from Kngland, and returned to the Low Countries in 1631. At last, a year later, in 1632, Van Dyck's pride was pro- pitiated by receiving a formal invitation from Charles I., tlirough Sir Kenelm Digby, to visit Kngland, and this time the painter had no cause to complain of an unworthy into the painters' 3cns, who, seeing ting, and to visit age, he went to J with a country- :lier, he was able twenty-two years Before quitting cen the painters, his famous por- Dyck came back i not live on the re of Van Dyck's me, and Palermo, e in his love of d to the evil side ^'ct his first com- ofits of his paint- painted the por- it portrait painter nd, but she still to which all the more to her con- tche.->, which was She is said to by Philip II. to ind a pension of e he painted for is as a memorial ladowcd that of he had received e to luigland, in I fellow- country- ndcd by his not hich the painter re in his charac- returned to the ; pride was pro- Kenelm Digby, of an unworthy VAN- DYCK. "5 reception. He was lodged by the king among his artists at Blackfriars, having no intercourse with the city, save by water. He had the king, with his wife and chil- dren, to sit to him, and was granted a pension of two hundred a year, with the dis- tinction of being named painter to his Majesty. A year later Van Dyck was knighted. Royal and noble commissions flowed upon him, and the king, who had a hereditary love of art, visited the painter continually, and spent some of the happiest and most innocent hours of his brief and clouded life in Van Dyck's company. Thus began Van Dyck's success in England, and it rested with himself whether that success was to be real or only apparent, enduring or tem- porary. To give you an example of how often, and in how many different manners, Van Dyck painted the king and royal family, we shall quote from a list of his pic- tures — " King Charles in coronation robes." " King Charles in armour " (twice). " King Charles in white satin, with his baton, just descended from his horse; in the distance, view of the Isle of Wight." " King Charles in armour, on a white horse ; Monsieur de St. Antoinc, his equerry, holding the king's helmet." "The King and Queen sitting; Prince Charles, very young, standing at the King's side ; the Duke of York, an infant, on the Queen's knee." " The King and Queen holding a crown of laurel between them." " The Queen in white." " Prince Charles in armour (two or three times)." " King, Queen, Prince Charles, and Princess Mary." " Queen with her five children." " Queen with dwarf. Sir Geoffrey Hudson having a monkey on his shoulder." Van Dyck had several great patrons, after the king. For the Earl of Arundel, in addition to portraits of the Earl and Countess, the painter designed a .second Arundel family picture, which was painted by Fruitiers. For George, Duke of Buck- ingham, Van Dyck painted one of his finest double portraits of the Duke's two sons, when children. For the Northumberland family Van Dyck painted, besides portraits of Henry and Algernon, Earls of Northumberland, another famous picture, that of the two beautiful sisters, I^dy Dorothy Percy, afterwards Countess of Leicester, anil her sister, Lady Lucy Percy, afterwards Countess of Carlisle, whose charms figure frequently in the memoirs of her time. William and Philip, Earls of Pembroke, were ' also among his patrons, and for the second he painted his great family picture. The Wilton Family. Sir Kenelm Digby, too, whose wife Venitia was more frequently painted than any woman of her day, and was not more distinguished for her beauty than for her lack of nobler qualities. Van Dyck alone painted her several times, the last after her sudden death, for her vain and eccentric, if gallant, husband, who in the end was no friend to Van Dyck. But these high names by no means exhaust the list of patrons of a painter who, among various contradictory qualities, was indefatigably industrious. His work is ii6 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. I 1 widely distributed among tlie Scotch as well as the English descendants of the nobility whom he painted, so that the possession of at least one ancestral "Van Dyck " accom- panies very many patents of nobility, and is equivalent to a warrant of gentle birth. The Earl of Clarendon, in the next reign, had a great partiality for Van Dyck's pictures, and was said to be courted by gifts of them until his apartments at Cornbury were furnished with full-length " Van Dycks." A third of his collection went to Kitty Hyde, Duchess of Queensberry, one of the Earl's three co-heiresses. Through tlie Ricii family many of these " Van Dycks " passed to Taymouth Castle, where by a coincidence they were lodged in the company of numerous works of George Jamie- son of Aberdeen, who is said to have been for a short time a fellow-pupil of Van Dyck's under Rubens, who has been called " the Scotch Van Dyck," and who is certainly the first native painter who deserves honourable mention. Since the death of the last Marquis of Breadalbane these travelled " Van Dycks " have gone back to the English representative of the Rich family. Van Dyck had 5200 for a half, and ;S>300 for a whole-length picture ; — for a large piece of the King, Queen, and their children, he had $^QO. For the Wilton family picture he had $25.00. But Van Dyck soon impaired his fortune. He was not content with having a country-house at Eltham in Kent, where he spent a portion of each summer ; he would emulate in his expenditure the most spendthrift noble of that reign. " He always went magnificently dressed, and had a numerous and gallant equipage, and kept so good a table in his apartment that few princes were more visited and be'^ter served." His marriage was not calculated to teach him moderation. In his thirty-ninth year the King gave him the hand of Marie Ruthvcn, who was nearly related to the unhappy Earl of Cowrie. She was his niece, her father having beep the scarcely less unhappy younger brother Patrick, a physician, who, apprehended when a young man on the charge of being concerned in the treason of his elder brothers, spent his manhood in the Tower. He was kept a prisoner there from 1584 to 1619, nearly forty years, and was only released in his age and infirmity when his mind was giving way. Patrick Ruthven's infant daughter had been adopted, either through charity or perversity, by Anne of Denmark, and brought up first at the court of Anne, and afterwards at that of Henrietta Maria. The assertion that Marie Ruthven was a very beautiful woman has been contradicted. It was said that she was bestowed in marriage on Sir Antony Van Dyck as much to humble further the already humbled and still detested family of Ruthven, as to honour the painter; but this does not seem consistent with King Charles's known favour for Van Dyck. Yet such a view might have been entertained by Marie Ruthven herself, who, according to tradition, held herself degraded by the marriage, and never forgave the degradation. Sue was not a loving wife to a man who could hardly have been a very loving or loyal husband. And certainly the marriage did not unite the painter closer to the king. Vv'ith his professional industry. Van Dyck combined an equally unquenchable >.(• of pleasure, which, with his luxurious and sedentary habits, induced paroxysms f :oi;t, from which Rubens also suffered severely. This must have ultimately dis- qualified liim for good work, and when his debts accumulated in greater proportion ■^' VAN DYCK. 117 even than his receipts, in place of having recourse, like Rubens, to his painting-room, Van Dyck tried a shorter road to get rich, by following the idle example of Sir Kcnelm Digby in his pursuit of alchemy and the philosopher's stone. In the year of his marriage, Van Dyck re-visited Flanders, in con^pany with his wife, and then repaired to France, it is understood with the intention of settling there. He was instigated to the step by his wife, and his own ambition of rivalling Rubens' triumphs at the Luxembourg; but the preference which the F'rench gave to the works of their countryman, Nicolas Poussin, roused his latent jealousy, and so mortified him as to induce him to renounce his intention. He determined to return to England, and was, to his credit, confirmed in his resolution by the threatening civil war which was to shake his royal master's throne to the foundation, rather than deterred from it. Again in fingland. Van Dyck employed Sir Kcnelm Digby to make an offer on the painter's part that for eight hundred pounds he would paint the history, and a procession of the Knights of the Garter on the walls of the Knights' banqueting- room at Whitehall — that palace which was to have surpassed the Louvre, the Tuile- ries, and the Escurial, and from one of the windows of which Charles stepped out on his scaffold. But the proposal was rejected, and immediately afterwards the civil war broke out, and was speedily followed by the death of Van Dyck, about a year after his marriage, when he was a little over forty years oUl, at liKT'lcfriars, in 1641. He was buried in old St. Paul's, near the tomb of John of Gaunt. His daughter, Justiniana, was born a short time — some say only eight days — before her father died, and was baptized on the day of his death. Van Dyck left effects and sums due to him to the amount of 5100,000; but the greater part of the debts were found beyond recovery at the close of the civil war. His daughter grew up, and married a Mr. Stepney, " who rode in King Charles's life guards." His widow re-married ; her second husband was a Welsh knight. Van Dyck's character was one of those that are made of very contradictory elements. He was actuated by opposite motives which are hard to analyze, and which in their instability have within themselves, whatever their outward advantages, the doom of failure in the highest excellence. He was a proud man, dissatisfied both with himself and his calling, resenting, with less reason than Hans Holbein showed, that he should be condemned to portrait painting, yet by no means undervaluing or slurring over his work. He " would detain the persons who sat to him to dinner for an opportunity of studying their countenances and re-touching their pictures," " would have a sitter, sitting to him seven entire days, mornings and evenings, and would not once let the man see the picture till it pleased the painter." Van Dyck appears to have been a man with the possibilities in him of greater things than he attained, possibilities which were baffled by his weakness and self-Indulgence, leaving him with such a sense of this as spoiled his greatest successes, Wehavethevaryingindicationsof two pictures of Van Dyck from which to get an impression of his personal appearance. The first picture is that of a youthful face, soft, smiling, with dark eyes, finely-formed nose, a slightly open mouth, having a full cleft under lip, the hair profuse and slightly curled, but short, and no beard or moustache. The dress is an open doublet, without a collar, a lace cravat, and one \ ii8 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. J i i ■ ! arm half bare. The second is the picture of Van Dyck in the Louvre, which is judged the best hkeness of the painter. In this his person is slender, his conipl . .vion fair, his eyes grey, his hair chestnut brown, his beard and whiskers red. He wears a vest of green velvet, with a plain collar. In his art. Van Dyck, with something of ' glow of Rubens, and with a deli- cacy peculiarly his own, was decidedly inferior i j his great master, both in power and in fertility of genius. In the superficial refinement which was so essential a part of Van Dyck, he had the capacity of conferring on his sitters a reflection of his own outward stateliness and grace. When he painted at his best his portraits were solid, true, and masterly, but he has been reproached with sacrificing truth to the refining process which he practised. Even in the case of Charles I., whose portraits are our most familiar examples of Van Dyck, and who thus lives in the imagination of most people as the very personification of a noble and handsome cavalier, there have not been wanting critics who have maintained that Charles, — the son of a plain uncouth father, and of a mother rather floridly buxom than delicately handsome, and who was in his childhood a sickly rickety child, — was by no means so well endowed in the matter of manly beauty as we have supposed. These students of old gossip and close investigation, have alleged that Charles was long and lanky, after he had ceased to be Baby Charles ; that his nose was too large, and, alas ! apt to redden ; that his eyes were vacillating; and his mouth, the loosely hung mouth of a man who begins by being irresolute, and ends by being obstinate. Again, in the hands of a sitter, which Van Dyck was supposed to paint with special care and elegance, it has been argued that he copied always the same hand, probably his own, in ignorance, or in defiance of the fact that hands have nearly as much and as varying character as a painter can discover in faces. Though Van Dyck painted many beautiful women, he did not excel in rendering them beautiful on canvas, so that succeeding genera- tions, in gazing on Van Dyck's versions of Venitia, Lady Digby, and Dorothy Sydney — Waller's Sacharissa, — have wondered how Sir Kenelm, Waller, and their contemporaries, could find these ladies so beautiful. Van Dyck certainly owed something of the charm of his pictures to the dress of the period, with regard to which he received this credit that " Van Dyck was the first painter whoe'er put ladies' dress into a careless romance." But in reality never was costume better suited for a painter like Van Dyck. The hair in the men was allowed to flow to the shoulders or gathered in a love knot, while the whiskers and beard formed a point. In the women the hair was crisped in curls round the face. The ruff in men and women had yielded to the broad, rich, falling collar, with deep scallops of point lace. Vest and cloak were of the ricnest velvet or satin, or else, on the breaking out of the civil war, men appeared in armour. The man's hat was broad and flapping, usually turned up at one side, and having an ostrich feather in the band; his long wide boots were of Spanish leather, and he wore gauntlet gloves, and rich ruffles at his wrists. The women wore hoods and mantles, short bodices, ample trains, and wide sleeves terminating in loose ruffles at the elbow, which left half of the arm bare. Pearl necklaces and bracelets, round feather fans, and " knots of flowerr," were the almost universal ornaments of women. Another ornament of both men and "W:^ which is mipi.xion [e wears a :h a deli- in power :ial a part f his own ere solid, e refining s are our I of most have not I uncouth I who was ed in the ossip and lad ceased ; that his ho begins f a sitter, has been nee, or in acter as a il women, g genera- Dorothy and their le dress of IS the first never was IS allowed and beard ace. The with deep or else, on was broad the band ; 1, and rich :cs, ample half of the if llowery," 1 men and T ■ — ^ 'i I > \i !i ii I If I I! ii ;! K V £ A\ h Z'- i¥ If: iR- f. (i. A 'y iE 1 i 1 f . i 1 1 \r S*«!«»TBii»WS»WfE:»?Sl« >; 5/7P PETER LELY. 119 women, which belonged to the day, and was very common in the quarters we have been referring to, was a miniature enclosed in a small case of ivory or ebony, carved Uke a rose, and worn on the left side in token of betrothal. Van Dyck had few pupils : one, an Englisiiman named Dobson, earned an honourable reputation as a painter. From Sir Antony More's time down to that of Lely and Kneller, the rage for portraits was continually increasing, and took largely the form of miniatures, which were painted chiefly by foreigners ; notably by Milliard and two Olivers or Olivier, as father and son of I-'rench e.xtraction, and by a Swiss named Petitot. A collection of miniatures by the Oliviers, including no less than si.x of Venltia, Lady Digby, had a similar fate to that of Holbein's drawings. The miniatures had been packed in a wainscot box and conveyed to the country-house in Wales of Mr. Watkin Williams, who was a descendant of the Digby family. In course of time the box with its content, doubtless forgotten, had been transferred to a garret, where it had lain undiscovered for, it has been supposed, fully a hundred years. It was two hundred years after the date of the painting of the miniatures, that on some turning over of the lumber in the garret, the exquisite miniatures, fresh as on the day when they were painted, were accidentally brought to light. Sir Peter Lely was born in Westphalia in 1618. His real name was Vander Faes, and his father was a " Captain of I'oot," who, having chanced to be born in rooms over a perfumer's shop which bore the sign of a lily, took fantastically enough the name of Du Lys, or Lely, which he transmitted to his son. Sir Peter Lely, after studying in a studio at Haarlem, went to l-lngland when he was twenty-three years of age, in 1641, and set himself to copj' the pictures of Van Dyck, who died in the year of Lely's arrival in England, and whom he succeeded as court painter. Lely was knighted by Charles II., married aii English woman, and had a son and a daughter, who died young. He made a large fortune, dying at last of apoplexy, with which he was seized as he was painting the Duchess of Somerset, when he was sixty- two years of age, in 1680. With regard to Lely's character, wc may .safely jiidgc fiom his works that he was such a man as Samuel Pepys, " of easy virtue," a man holding a low enough standard by which to measure himself and others. Mr. Palgrave quotes from Mr. Leslie the following characteristic anecdote of Lely, which seems to prove that he was aware of, and coolly accepted, the decline of art in his generation and person. A nobleman said to Lely, " How is it that you have so great a reputation, when you know, as well as I do, that you are no painter?" " True, but I am the best you have," was the answer. Lely's punishment followed him into his art, for beginning by copying Van Dyck, it is .said of Lely that he degenerated in his work till it bore the very " stamp of the depravity of the age." Lely's sitters were mostly women. Among them was one who deserved a fitter painter. Mistress Anne Killigrew, Dryden's — "Youngest virgin d.iughtcr of tliP skies." In Lely's portrait of her, she is a neat, slightly prim, delicate beauty, with very fine features, and such sleepy eyes, as were probably the gift of Lely, since he has bestowed them generally on the women whom he painted. TABLE BOOK ART. Leiy painted both Charles I. and Cromwell, who desired his painters to omit " no i)implc or wift," but to paint his face as they saw it. At Hampton Court also there are several of the eleven portraits of Admirals whom Lely painted for James II. when Duke of York. Antonio Canal, called Canaletto, incorrectly Canaletti, was born at Venice in 1697. He was the son of a scene painter at the theatre. In his youth he worked under his father ; a little later he went to Rome, and studied for some time there. Then he came to England, where he remained only for two years. We have hesitated about placing his name among those of the foreign painters resident in England, but so many of his works are in that country that he seems to belong to it in an additional sense. He is said to have " made many pictures and much money." He died at Venice when he was seventy years of age, in 1768. The great wood-carver GRiNi.iNn Gibbons deserves mention among the artists of this date. He was a native of Rotterdam, where he was born in 1648. He went to London with other carvers the year after the great fire of London, and was introduced by Evelyn to Charles II., who took him into his employment. " Gibbons was appointed master carver in wood to George I., with a salary of cighteen-pence a day." He died in his house at Bow Street in the si.\ty-third year of his age, in 1721. It is said that no man before Gibbons " gave to wood the lightness of flowers." For thv-i great houses of Burghley, Pctworth, and Chatsworth, Gibboas carved exquisite work, in festoons for screens, and chimney-pieces, and panels for pictures, of fruit, flowers, shells, and birds. Sir Godfrev Kneller was born at Liibeck in 1646, and was the son of an architect. He is said to have studied under Rembrandt ; but if this be true, it must have been in Kncller's early youth. It is more certain that he travelled in Italy and returned to settle in Hamburg, but changing his plans, he went to England, when he was about thirty years of age, in 1675. London became his home. There he painted portraits with great success. Charles II. sat at the same time to Kneller and to Lely. Not Titian himself painted more crowned heads than it fell to the lot of Kneller to paint — not less than si.\ reigning kings and queens of England, and, in addition, Louis XIV. of France, Charles VI. of Spain, and the Czar Peter of Russia. Kneller was highly praised by Drydcn, Addison, Prior, and Steele. Apropos of these writers, among the most famous works of Kneller are the forty-three portraits, painted originally for Tonson, the bookseller, of the members of the Kit Cat club, the social and literary club of the day, which got its name from the cnance of its holding its meetings in a house the owner of which bore the unique name of Christo- pher Cat. Another series of portraits by Kneller arc what ought to be, in their designation, the Hampton Court Beauties. These are still, like the other " Beauties," at Hampton. The second series was proposed by William's Queen Marj', and included herself, Sarah Jennings, Duchess of Marlborough, and Mary Bentinck. To Sarah Jennings men did award the palm of beauty, but poor Queen Mary, who had a modest, simple, comely, pjiglish face as a princess, had lost her fresh youthful charm by the time she became Queen of luigland, and was still further disfigured by the swelling of the face to which she was liable. ! h >ainters to omit its of Admirals rn at Venice in 3Uth he worlced jme time there. :ars. We have ters resident in to belong to it much money." [icr the artists of ■ 8. He went to 1 was introduced " Gibbons was ;n-pence a day." , in 1721. It is Arers." For the exquisite work, of fruit, flowers, i? the son of an be true, it must lied in Italy and ngland, when he rherc he painted Her and to Lely. ot of Kncller to 1 addition, Louis lie. Apropos of y-three portraits, he Kit Cat club, :he cnance of its name of Christo- t to be, in their jther " Ikauties," uecn Marj', and y Bentinck. To I Mary, who had r fresh youthful her disfigured by I 1 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. SECOND PART. 121 i «^ 1! . MMIH I 11 ; i ! t i I- MODERN PAINTERS AND THEIR PAINTINGS. CHAPTER I. ENGLISH AR T— THORNHILL—HO GAR TH— REYNOLDS- GAINSB OR O UGH—BARR V— BLAKE, &c. RT in England was declining day by day when the first English painter who won popularity appeared in the person of Sir James Thornhill. liut when we use the term popularity, we must remind our readers that popular art-ignorance was great, and that all which it had gained from the partiality of the public for foreign painters and their works, when foreign painters were no better than Lc Brun and Verrio, was an artificial and affected passion for allegories which had little thought or sentiment. Even that little was most frequently not comprehended, for the allegories were simply looked at and admired for what was considered their grand effect. Wc do not say that there was nothing that was imposing in the result, but for the most part it was a piece of huge, hollow pomposity. It was on ceilings and staircases that these allegories were flourished or sprawled, and Sir James Thornhill was the most successful English painter of such allegories " after the style of Verrio." Sir Jamf.s Tiiorxiiii.i, was born at Weymouth, in 1676. He came of a good Dorsetshire family, whose lands had passed from them. It was by the help of an uncle, an eminent physician, that young Thornhill was enabled to study art in London. Among his first important works was the painting of the cupola of St. Paul's, with eight large pictures from the life of the apostle. For these he was paid at the rate of ten dollars the square yard ; and when one hears of painting being paid by the yard, one has reason to tremble for the production of endless yards costing still less to the' painter than to his employers. Yet Thornhill's painting in the cupola of St. Paul's was valued in his own day, and not only procured for him his 123 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. \ i appointment of historical painter to Queen Anne, but numberless commissions to decorate palaces, great mansions, and churches in a similar manner. Although Sir James was no artist, he seems to have been an honest hard-working Englishman, with regard to whom one is glad to hear that he was enabled to buy back the family estate, and was knighted by George I. He also sat as member of parliament for his native town, Weymouth, and he had a real feeling for the art for which he could do little in his own person, and promoted its interests manfully and liberally. He formed a small collection of works of the Old Masters and threw it open to young students. He urged on the government the foundation of an Art Academy, and failing in his laudable efforts, he opened at his own expense a free academy for the purpose which he had in view. Although it was not with Sir James Thornhill's will that he became, as our readers may have heard or presently will hear, closely linked with a great English painter, one recognizes poetic justice in the fact. Sir James Thornhill died at his own seat of Thornhill in his fifty-ninth year, 1734. He had a son, sergeant painter to the navy, but otherwise undistinguished. Sir James's daughter Jane had become the wife of William Hogarth. William Hocarth was born in London in 1697. His father had been a West- moreland schoolmaster, but I s have looked with great complacency upon Poussin's celebrated picture of the Plague at Athens. Disease and death, and bewildering terror, in Athenian garments, are endurable, and come, as the delicate critics express it, ' within the limits of pleasurable sensation.' But the scenes of their own St. Giles', delineated by their own countryman, are too shocking to think of Yet if we could abstract our minds from the fascinating colours of the picture, and forget the coarse execu- tion (in some respects) of the print, intended as it was to be a cheap plate, accessible to the poorer sort of people, for whose instruction it was done, I think we could have no hesitation in conferring the palm of superior genius upon Hogarth, comparing bat he did to of perception I true sense of be seen in all colouring is lour, and that d there, as in gical death of t wife of the ig for beauty, in Hogarth's ir as it goes. 1-conditioned, id of "Moll )uth is sedu- l^uide " lying jtably perfect off the same igures full of gambling on ' companions, nation on the tiy Inn Yard who is being no discipline nartial pomp, alias are the an, distracted isions of the >n which you erficial view ; and repelled, iame persons )rated picture , in Athenian ' within the :s', delineated ould abstract oarse execu- ite, accessible :e could have h, comparing I ! i REYNOLDS. 127 this work of his with Poussin's picture. There is more of imagination in it — that power wliicli draws all things to one, which makes thinys, animate and inanimate beinj,'^, attributes and their subjects, with their accessories, take one colour, and serve one >, Ifcct. Kverything in the print, to use a vulgar expression, tells. ICvery i)art is full of • strange images of death.' It is perfectly amazing and astounding to look at. Not only the two prominent figures, the woman and the half-dead man, which arc as terrible as anything which Michael Angelo ever drew, but everything else in the print contributes to bewilder and stupefy ; — the very houses, as I lieard a friend of mine express it^ tumbling all about in various directions, seem drunk — seem absolutely reeling from the effect of that diabolical spirit of phrensy which goes forth over the whole com- position. To show the poetical and almost prophetical conception of the artist, one little circumstance may serve. Not content with the dying and dead figures which he has strewed in profusion over the proper scene of the action, he shows you what (of a kindred nature) is passing beyond it. Close by the shell in which by the direc- tion of the parish beadle, a man is depositing his wife, is an old wall, which, partak- ing of the universal decay around it, is tumbling to pieces. Through a gap in this wall arc seen three figures ; which appear to make a part in some funeral procession which is passing by on the other side of the wall, out of the sphere of the composi- tion. This extending of the interest beyond the bounds of the subject could only have been conceived by a great genius." The National Gallery of England possesses Hogarth's series of Marnai^c a la .M^i/f* and his portrait of himself. The I'oundling Hospital has Hogarth's fine por- trait of its founder, Captain Coram, — I logarth being otte of eighteen painters of repute who presented works to the Foundling Hospital, where, in the dearth of ex- hibitions, the paintings had a chance of being publicly .seen. A new decade in English art begins with Sir Joshua Reynold.s, who was born, in 1723, at Plympton in Devonshire, his fither having been master of the Plympton Grammar School. The reading of the " Treatise on Painting " by the portrait painter, Jonathan Richardson, is said to have first given young Reynolds the eager wish to be a painter; and his earliest master was Richardson's .son-in-law, Hudson, estab- lished in London, where Reynolds went to study at the age of nineteen years. Quar- relling with Hudson, Reynolds returned to Devonshire and began to practise portrait painting as a profession at Plymouth Dock, remaining and working there till his twenty- fifth year, (1746,) when his father died, and Reynolds resolved on settling in London. But three years later there occurred an important crisis in his career, when another Devonshire man. Commodore Keppel, a kind patron to the young painter, carried him off in his ship, the Centurion, to the Mediterranean, landing him in Minorca. From the Balearic Isles Reynolds made his way to Leghorn, thence to Rome, and, finally, to the cities of the north of Italy, and to Paris, from which he came back to London, after a profitable tour that lasted fully three years. From a cold caught whilst he was abroad Sir Joshua dated his deafness, and from a fall which occurred about the same time he received the wound and scar that caused the slight indentation in his under lip. In Leicester Fields Sir Joshua's house was kept by his homely, kindly sister, Frances Reynolds, who was not without talent of her own, which she exercised in * See Illustration. in. ! TABLE BOOK OF ART. miniature painting, and in writing a theory of beauty and taste. (She once painted D"". Johnson, but so Httlo to his satisfaction, that he stigmatized the Ukeness as " the grimly gliost of Johnson.") Sir Joshua's house was further enlivened bj' the pre- sence of his young nieces, one of whom became, after the death of his .«ister, his heiress; and the other was the "Offie," or Tlieophila Palmer, wiio sat to her uncle for a charming portrait. The brother and sister's house became the chosen resort of all the wisdom and wit, and, following with a hankering in their train, of a good deal of the rank and fashion of London. \'ery ine.\pensi\e ;'ntertiunments were these " evenings," modelled on the royal invitations to tea sent out by George III. and Queen Charlotte, but very matchless, when the guests included Johnson and Garrick, Goldsmith and Kurke, and Dr. Burney, and with him his young daughter Fanny, w!io was so pleasantly cherisjied by these great men till her gift as a noveli.st came to light, when each cried out in triumph owr it, as he had never cried out over his own gift. We need hardly spend more time in dwelling on that historical literary circle, where Sir Joshua made nearly as fine a figure as in his own strictly artistic w.ilk. We can read its records in the lives of Johnson and Goldsmith, or as gi\en by the pens of Madame D'Arblay and Mrs. Piozzi. liesidcs his house in Leice.stei Fields, Sir Joshua had a villa at Richmond, to which he repaired for a holiday on a summer afternoon, but where he never spent a night. Indeed so unremitting was his devotion to his art, that in an interval of many years, he boa.sted thrt he had ne\'er " lost a day, or missed a line." His friend, Dr. Johnson, remonstrated solemnly, and not unsuccessfully, with Sir Joshua, on a service which had in it something of slavery and idolatry to the material and tem- poral, and was apt to involve the neglect of ti7e unseen and eternal. It was on the occasion of Reynolds being elected president of the Academy, to which Geovge III. h.ad consented to give the royal patronage, that the King con- ferred on the painter the di.stinction of knighthood. When over si.xty j'eais of age a partial loss of sight compelled Sir Joshua to renounce his \vel!-lo\ed art, and I^e obeyed the compulsion with simple dignity and resignation. The end was not fiir off; he died in his seventieth year, in 1792. His bod)' lay in state at tiie Royal Academy. At the funeral the pall was borne by " dukes, marquises, and earls." He was buried beside \\ icii, in the crypt of St. Paul'.s. A good example of Sir Joshua's smaller style is Tltc Coquet* now in the Royal collection at Windsor, and those of the Count Ue;olino and his sous, the hnrulcs Strangling t/tr Serpents, not to .say those pictures which ha\i.' more or less of fancy i'.i them, such as Mrs. Sii/ifons os t/ie Tnigic Muse, Garriek detzveen Tragedv nnd Comedy, have enjoyed a great reputation. F'or his Count (go/ino Rey- nolds had 52000, for his Hereules Strangling the Serpents, 5/, 500 for his Death of Cardinal Beaufort, now in the Dulwich Gallery, he hail S2500, and R)r Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic Muse, in tlie same gallery, he had S3 500. These prices are given as e.xamples of the popularity — \\r>\. o\ the e.xcellence of his work, for prices are no test of excellence. In the National Gallery there are excellent specimens of Sir Joshua's powers, among them his portrait of Lord Heathfieid * See Steel Engraving. GAINSBOROUGH. 129 She once painted likeness as '• the ened by the pre- of his .«ister, his sat to her uncle :he chosen resort • train, of a good :ertainments were It by George III. tied Johnson and young daughter gift as a novelist ,-er cried out over historical literary \-x\ strictly artistic mith, or as gi\en at Richmond, to he never spent a 1 interval of many His friend, Dr. Sir Joshua, on a laterial and tem- the Academy, to it the King con- ■d Sir Joshua to niple dignity and ;ir, in 1792. His dl was borne by w the crypt of Hic Coquet* now V^olino and his which ha\<.' more Gairkl: bctivccn lint rgoliiio Rey- for liis Death of for ^f|•s. Sidihins ices are given as )rices are no test s of Sir Joshua's Thomas Gainsborough was born at Sudbury, in Suffolk, in 1727. His father was a manufacturer of says and crapes, and his uncle was master of the grammar school where Gainsborough was educated. Sudbury was then rich in picturesque old hou.ses, and the town was set in the pleasant Suffolk scenery, for which Gains- borough had a marked preference throughout his life. Not the least picturesque house was that which the Gain.^boroughs inhabited, thai iiad once been an inn known as the Black Horse. Gainsborough gave early signs of the bent of his genius. An anecdote is told of the robbery of a pear-tree in the Gainsboroughs' garden, when the painter was a mere boy, and of the clever sketch by which the lad was enabled to " show up " the robber. In his sixteenth year, Gainsborough went to London to pursue his studies as a painter, under artists comparatively obscure, but the best which his family cculd find, and in the academy in St. Mart'.i's Lane. When he was eighteen years of age, Gainsborough set up for himself in London as a portrait and landscape painter, hut not succeeding in the bold attempt, as it was hardly possible so young a lad could succeed, he returned to Sudbury, and committed the still more daring deed of marrying at nineteen x'cars of age. Notwithstanding the apparent audacity of the step, this marriage, which had the full approval of his friends, seems to have been the great safeguard of Gainsborough. He was just such an impulsive man, so heedless of .ielf-iuterest, as, in spite of his strong will, strong common-sense, and great genius, most needed a safeguard. Marriages were made betimes more than a century ago, so that nineteen was not held so juvenile an age for a bridegroom in Gainsborough's day as it would be in ours. Besides, Maryaret Burr, the bride, held an annuity of $1000, which was regarded as a comfortable little independence in those simpler times, and which, prudently managed at any time, would have placed the couple above the reach of want, and enabled the young painter, in place of painting for bread and dear life, to take time, look about him, and cultivate his talents to the highest pitch they could reeich. Some men, indeed, require the spur of necessity, but it is questionable whether these are the painters of nature's creation. But of far moie moment than ?.Iargaret Burrs little fortune was the fact that she was a loving wife to Gainsborough, and that, in spite of his defects of temper and of such faults as she might own, the two were an affectionate and united couple till death. It is to Mrs. Gainsborough's ford care of every scrap of her husband's work that we owe the preservation of many of the gieat careless paint- er's drawings. A pleasant story, in which her small fortune played no part, is told of the first meeting of Gainsborough and his wife. It is said that he was sketching a landscape near Sudbury, having begun to turn his attention to landscape painting, when he was interrupted in his work by a lady, who was unconscious of his occupation, and who crossed the field in front of him. The painter was forced to stop, naturally looked at the intruder, and was love-smitten on the spot. Soon after Gainsborough's marriage he took .-' house in Ipswich, where he resided and painted for more than twelve years. There, while he was still a young man, he learned something in art from a friendship with Mr. Kirby, a well-reputed writer on perspective and there he indulged in his inclination to social, and espe- i;^o THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. cially musical entertainments, by cultivating the acquaintance of the greatest glee singers in the town. Gainsborough was only thirty-three years of age when he removed to Bath in 1/60. He remained in Bath about the same length of time that he had dwelt in Ipswich, fourteen years, and when he was forty-seven years of age, in 1774, he came back to London as the acknowledged rival alike of Sir Joshua Reynolds in portrait painting, and ot Richard Wilson in landscape painting, able to take part in the old house of the Duke of Schomberg, in Pall Mall, and to claim a high career. So well established was his reputation, that the king and queen s,' to him, as they had sat to Sir Joshua Reynolds. An interregnum occurring in Gainsborough's strife with '^ Joshua, Gains- borough exhibited seven pictures in 1777, and as many as si.xteen 1780, showing a marked preference for landscipe painting in his works, and receiving in this new direction another and still stronger tribute of praise from Horace Walpole, who .said with truth of a picture shown by Gainsborough in 1777, that it was "by far the finest landscape ever exhibited in England." Gainsborough's continual wrangling with Sir Joshua Reynolds gave rise to the well-known picture called the Blitc Boy. Reynolds had laid down the law that blue ought not to be emoloyed in masses in a picture, when, more from a spice of malice which led Gainsborough to show that such a law was not without an exception, than with the intention of expressing his grave dissent from the view, Gainsborough painted the son of Mr. Buttall in an entire suit of blue. The result was the triumph of Ga'n.sboroughs art in the treatment of a difficult subject, so as to produce an agreeable effect under disadvantages, rather than an upsetting of Sir Jo>-hua's theorj-. In 1783 Gainsborough gratified his passion for nature, and his .>;till growing inclination to landscape rather than portrait painting, by a sojourn among the English Lakes ; but although he painted some of his finest pictures after this time, he ceased altogether to send them to the Academy's exliibitions, his other feuds having culmi- nated in an irreconcileabk. quarrel with the Academy's committee on the occasion of the hanging of a particular picture, The Village Beau* Joining the great world in its rush to attend the trial of Warren Hastings, Gains- borough caught a cold which was the beginning of his last illness. A short time before his death he sent for Sir Joshua Reynolds, expressed his reconciliation with his moved rival, and nmrmured the memorable .'•peech — " We are all going to heaven, and Van Dyck is of the company." Gainsborough was in his sixty-first year at the date of liis death, in 1787. He was buried at Kew. His family, who were left in moderate affluence, consisted only of his widow and two daughters, one of whom had married, we think, without her father's knowledge, and, as it proved, unhappily the musician Fischer, with whom Gainsboroug!!'.; delight in music had brought himself and his household in continual contact. A portrait by Gainsborough startled the art world, after an interval of years, like a revelation. It was that of Mrs. Graham, of Lj'nedoch, and has a pathetic history attached to it. The portrait of the much loved wife was taken shortly before h' 1 *bee Steel Engraving. h < a: is 6 .2 FUSE LI. 131 death, which occurred previous to the completed pictures' being sent home. The bereaved husband could not bear to look on the semblance of what he had lost in this world, and did not even have the picture removed from its case. In the extremity of his grief, as an effort against the melancholy, which was darkening down upon him, he joined the army, engaged in the Peninsular war, and as a volunteer distin- guished himself in his first battle. Obtaining a commission, he rose step by step, attaining one martial honour after another, till, first hailed as the gallant Sir Thomas Graham, the hero of Vittoria and J^arossa, he had conferred on him the title of Lord Lynedoch. Waterloo and the long peace came, and the sorrowing widower merged into the veteran soldier, lived on till white-haired and blind, and more than ninety years of age, and still the picture of his dead wife remained in its case, in the care of a London merchant, and by the art world forgotten or unknown as a gem of art. It was not till Lord Lynedoch died, and was laid beside his wife of more than half-a- century before, in Methven Kirk -yard, that his heir came into the possession of the picture in its case, sent it to the Manchester Art I^xhibition in 1856, where it flashed in its fresh glory on the art world, and generously presented it to the National Gal- lery, Edinburgh. Mrs. Graham was a beautiful woman, stately and blooming, in a full- dress hat, turned up at one side, and with the gown looped up, and showing the petticoat and the shoes and buckles. She holds in one hand an ostrich feat'" r. Richard Wilson was born, in 1715, at Pinegas, in Montgomeryshire; his father was a Welsh clergyman. A Welsh patron brought young Wilson up to London when a boy, and placed him in the studio of an obscure portrait painter. When Wilson had completed his art-traininij, such as it was, he attempted to start in life as a portrait painter, but though he had some good patrons, he did not succeed , indeed he did not establish, in that branch of his art, any claim to success. In 1749, when he was thirty-six years of age, he was able to visit Italy, and there, by the disinter- ested advice of the Italian and Fr«.. i artists, Zuccherelli and Vernet, renounced portrait for landscape painting. (Wilson had been waiting for Zuccherelli, and, in order to pass the time, had sketched the landscape from his open window. Zucche- relli looked at the sketch and inquired, with surprise, if Wilson had ever studied landscape painting. " No," answered Wilson. " Then I advise you to try, for you are sure of a great success," said Zuccherelli, and he was. Wilson died in 1782, in his si.\ty-ninth year, at Llanferras, in Denbighshire. Henry Fuseli, or Heinrich Fues.slv, as his name stood in the original Swiss, was born at Zurich in 1741. By descent, he inherited both his literary and artistic tastes, for his father and grandfather were alike miniature painters and compilers of memoirs of artists. Henry Fuseli was educated for the Church, but having left Zurich for Berlin, and being advised to repair to England, he established himself in London as a literary man. His talents and tastes attracted the notice of Sir Joshua Reynolds, who suggested to Fuseli his becoming a painter, and he again made an overturn of his arrangements, and .started to study in Italy when he was nearly thirty years of age. He did not return to England for eight years, and it was three years later, when Fuseli was fully forty years of age, that he made the first decided impres- sion as an artist, in exhibiting his picture of Nightmare. This wild and fantastic 132 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. picture is said to have had its origin in experience, an experience eagerly coveted by Fuscli, and gained after many vain endeavours to produce the desired result, by his consenting to sup on raw pork; no doubt the story has its rise in the oddness of the subject of the picture, and in Fuseli's warm pursuit of whatever end he had in view. After working for Boydell's Shakespearian Gallery, Fuscli produced his principal works, which he termed his " Milton Gallery," in forty-seven large pictures from the " Paradise Lost," at which he painted for the space of nine years — brief enough space for so ambitious an attempt. It was not a success in a money-making point of view ; and the artist, when he was a man of fifty years, in 1780, just ten years after his return to London, in closing his exhibition of what had constituted a gallery of his works, observed bitterly, " I am fed with honour and suffered to starve, if they could starve me." Eight years later Fuscli was elected an associate member of the Royal Academy, and married an English woman, and native of Bath, in the same year. In the following year he was elected an Academician, and about ten years later, when he was in his sixtieth year, he was appointed to an office very congenial to his literary as well as artistic tastes — that of the Academy's professor of painting. Except during his temporary resignation, for an interval of five years, he continued profe.ssor of painting till his death, at the age of eighty-four years, in 1835. George Romney was born at Dalton, in Lancashire, in 1734. His father was a cabinet-maker, and George worked with his father for a time, but, on account of his liking for drawing, was placed, at the age of nineteen, with a portrait painter in Kendal, when having learnt what his master could teach him, George Romney himself began to paint portraits. He remained for five years at Kendal, making a provincial success, and marrying in his twenty-third year a north-country girl, named Mary Abbot, who had nursed him through an illness. In 1 763, six years after his marriage, when he was the father of two children, Romney became so discontented with his whole surroundings, that he started to push his fortune in London, leaving his wife and children behind him, under the impres- sion that they were to join him as soon as it was convenient to remove the whole family. But a homely wife and two children did not appear to the aspiring and heartless painter as desirable appendages in a rising career. He preferred to keep his household in the dark, far away in the primitive Westmoreland dales, where they continued to dwell in obscurity and frugality, while the hu.sband and father rose rapidly into eminence and affluence. Romney's conduct was an unnatural exaggera- tion of selfishness and personal ambition, and our readers may think that it did not meet its deserts ; but while we must be prepared for the truth of the French saying, that " a cold heart and a good digestion ' form a highway to worldly success, we may be sure that, in the loss of all that makes a man worthiest and most honourable, retribution encountered the offender. In a few years Romney took his rank with Reynolds and Gainsborough as por- trait painters. He was also in repute as a genre painter. Starting in his charges with $10 a head at Kendal, he ended with $175, the same charge as Sir Joshua made, beginning even to supersede the courtly and courteous president, who had no love for the rough-hewn, over-bearing " man of Cavendish Square." Romney OP IE. 133 was never an exhibitor or member of the Academy, but he exhibited his paintings occasionally in the rooms of the rival Society of British Artists, which had an earlier date than the Academy. Romney visited at different times Paris and Italy, remaining abroad on the second visit for two years. In 1799, when Romney was in his sixty-sixth year, feeling his health failing, he suddenly, with characteristic cool selfishness, and callous shamelessness, returned to Westmoreland to the wife whom he had only gone to see twice in the course of thirty-seven years, an interval during which his daughter had died, and his son had grown to manhood, and entered the Church. The wife, who had been incapable of asserting her rights and retaining the respect of her husband, was equally incapable of resenting her wrongs, and so became again the dutiful nurse to the painter, who fell into a state of imbecility, and died thus, three years later, when he was in his seventieth year, in 1802. Allan Ramsav, the son of Allan Ramsay the poet, and author of the Gentle Slu'plurd, \WAS born in Edinburgh in 1 71 3. In accordance with his tastes he was trained a painter, and sent early, by considerable self-sacrifice on his father's part, to Italy, where he remained for years. On returning and establishing himself in London, he was appointed painter to the king. Though Allan the painter hardly equalled Allan the poet in his art, he was a good and careful portrait painter. At one time Walpole gave Ramsay the preference over Reynolds in painting women. Ramsay's excellent portraits of King George and Queen Charlotte are .still at Kensington. Allan Ramsay the painter was, like his father, Allan the poet, a good and honour- able man. He had inherited the taste for literature, and was remarkable for his great information and accomplishments. He died at Dover in his seventy-second year, in 1784. John Opie, or Oppy, was born near Truro, Cornwall, in 1761. His father was, not even in the position of a small tradesman, as Romney's father was, but was a poor carpenter, so that Opir came of peasant descent, and worked at any craft which came to his hands in his youth. He became foot-boy (i\Ir. Redgrave doubts this fact) to Dr. Wolcott, a physician in Truro, but bettei' known when ho removed to London, as the smart unscrupulous satirist who signed himself PckT Pi'm/ar. Opie's master having been attracted to his protege, in the first place, by his cleverness in taking likenesses, encouraged him in the practice both in Truro and in London, finding him sitters in the Cornish town ai: the modest rate of $200 a head. By the injudicious instrumentality of his bullying patron, who quarrelled vio- lently with Opie the moment he attempted to escape from the intolerable tyranny, the young painter, having been made to change the spelling of his name to suit what were considered the requirements of refined taste (Mr. Redgrave contradicts the change of name), was established as a portrait painter, and " pufied immoderately as an untaught genius." The puffing, as often happens, was successful for a time ; "strings" of carriages full of enthusiastic sitters literally impeded the traffic in the neighbourhood of the studio of the Cornish Wonder, Opie was married in 1798 to Amelia Alderson, daughter of Dr. Alderson of J 34 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. Norwich, when the bridegroom was in his thirty-ninth and the bride in her thirty- first year. Opie is said to have been uncouth, and sometimes petulant (not without reason), when made a lion of in London society. A bit of repartee is preserved by which he silenced the condescending cross-questioning of a would-be patron. With what did he mix his colours ? the tormentor had blandly asked, probably primed with sugges- tions of amendment in the medium. " With brains, sir!" answered Opie shortly. He continued a reserved, sensitive man. He did not live long to cultivate his powers. In 1807, nine years after his marriage, and not long after he had been elected pro- fessor of painting to the Academy, Opie died, after a short illness, at the age of forty-seven. His wife, who survived him many years, edited his four lectures and wrote his biography. George Morland was born in 1763. His father was a tolerable painter, famous for his crayon drawings. The elder Morland apprenticed his son to himself, with- drawing him from the Academy, which he had just entered as a student, and so far stopped his art education. Two explanations are given of this unfortunate step. The first is, that finding that the boy's clever and spirited sketches easily procured buyers, his father was so selfishly and foolishly grasping, as to cause the lad to spend the time which ought to have been given to self-improvement, on crude, faulty work. The second explanation is, that the father was a man of a strict and severe religious moral standard, and fearing for his son the corruptions of the Academy and the world, kept him under the paternal roof; and that it was in revolt from the .stern discipline of his father that George Morland broke out iuto utter license. Probably there is a portion of truth in both statements. The close of his apprenticeship freed Morland from the yoke which his father had made too hard for him, but he soon showed that he had received irremediable injury both morally and intellectually. He worked as little as he could help, avoided all study, and gave himself up to folly and debauchery. He could paint such paint- ings as would .sell with the greatest facility, and purchasers nevar failed him, which was all that he cared for. In 1786, when George Morland was twenty-three years of age, but wretchedly old in vice, he married a sister of Ward, the engraver's, who, in his turn, married a sister of Morland's. It is said that there was a real, and even a lasting attachment betwe^.i tb^ first couple, but it must have only served for their mutual misery, as it certainly had not the slightest effect in reclaiming Morland. At this time, Morland's pictures were often sold, like Guido's, with the paint wet upon them, having been executed on the spur of the moment, while the buyer sat over the painter. After a life of gross and shameless dissipation, George Morland died while lying under an arrest for debt in Eyre Street, Cold Bath Fields, in 1804, when he was forty-one years of age. His wife fell into convulsion fits upon hearing the news of his death, and died within four days, in her thirty-seventh year, husband and wife being buried together. While living, Morland had dictated his own epitaph — " Here lies a drunken dog." BARRY. 135 Jamks Barry was born at Cork in 1741. If Morland figured as " tlic prodigal" among painters of the last century, Barry was " the Wild Irishman," and as immeasurably self-conceited and arrogant in his dash of nobility as such wild heroes arc apt to be. His father was a coasting trader, who kept a small public-house. When a poor, unknown lad, young Barry painted a picture, the design of which was full of poetry and feeling, representing the barbarian king of Cashel, baptized by St. Patrick. In the course of the ceremony, the saint unintentionally thrusts his 'piked crozier through the bare foot of the king, who, believing the wound to be part of the initiation into the Christian life, bears it in heroic silence. This picture appeared at an exhibition in Dublin, and attracted great notice, and, what should have been of service to Barry, won him the friendship of a generous benefactor in his great countryman, I-^dmund Burke, who sent Barry, at his expense, to travel and study in Italy. But to such a self-willed, intolerant temper as Barry's, it is hard to say whether early success, or early disappointment, is most disastrous. When Barry returned to England, he made what was " the pity" of his undisci- plined violent nature the greater, that he showeil in his works a stuttering, stammer- ing grandeur of design and theory, all but fatally marred by the absence of qualities winch he despised, but which in great paii ters form part of their inspiration — loving, patient truthfulness, whether displayed easily, or with sore pains in execution and colouring. Yet, for six years he worked indomitably at a series of imaginative paintings, which he called his Klysium, and which he subscqixintly ;iresented to thf^ Scci'^ty of Arts (a sad enough trophy — warning as well as trophy — of undoubted genius). Barry's Elysium — his pictures for the Adelphia were six in number — four, 15 f;ct 2 inches long; and two, 42 feet long; all II feet 10 inches high. Lie proposed to illustrate the truth " that the attainment of happiness, individual as well as public, depends on the development, proper cultivation, and perfection of the human faculties, physical and moral." His first picture was Orpheus by music and song elevating a savage group. His second was a Grecian harvest-home, or thanksgiving to Ceres and Bacchus. His third was the victors of Olj'mpia in the Greek games. His fourth was Navigation, or the Triumph of the Thames, in which a male figure borne in a car represents the river, while round the car float Drake, Raleigh, Cabot, Cooke, and in full costume, and, in oddest juxta-position, as typifying music. Dr. Burncy in coat and wig of the time, while naiads and nercids are sporting round them in the waves. His fifth was the Distribution 0/ the Society s Reicards, a painting of the day, and without allegory, unless in its strange anti-climax to Barry's last picture, which was Elysiiivi and Tartarus, or the state of Final Retribution — a dark hill with Justice weighing the vices and virtues of mankind, and a bright Elysian field filled with groups of all who were great in learning, art, and theology. Homer, Milton, Shakespeare, Raphael and Titian, popes and cardinals, with Bishop Butler, for whose " Analogy " Barry had a special partiality, figure in the last to the number of eighty figures. The attempt was bold and ambitious, but Barry's powers, and especially their cultivation, were not equal to his ambition. His images, though sometimes grand, were often confused, and occasionally a burlesque on his central idea. His drawing 136 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. and colouring had many faults. When he btgan this work " he had only II4," and he had to depend i'or his subsistence in the long interval between beginning and ending on the uncertain profits of such night work as he could get, while all the time he held portrait painting in such high disdain, that when sitters occasionally straggled in to him he turned them off contemptuously to " the fellow in Leicester Square," Sir Joshua Reynolds, who was his pet aversion among his enemies. One cannot tell whetlier to cry out at the devotion, or the impractical folly of the man. Even Burke was alienated from Barry, until, though Barry could boast that he had never in his life borrowed a sixpence from any private individual, his straits in his miserable garret became so terrible that he was humbled to solicit from the Academy he had outraged, aid, which was at first refused, but afterwards granted twice in sums oi$2^0. When his Elysium was completed Farry exhibited the pictures, and gained by the exhibition $5,000, less acceptable to his proud spirit than the recognition of his ability which was afforded by the crowds that came to see and marvel at his work. The sale of etchings of the Elysium formed his principal mcome afterwards. But Barry was still an art Ishmaelite, poor, and his hand igainst every man. Mr. Redgrave gives this melancholy account of the wild painter's last days. " From his unceiled room which had been a carpenter's shop, not even impervious to the weather, uncleaned, unfurnished, with scarcely a bed, he had been, in the early spring of 1806, to the house where he usually dined. When about to return he was seizv J with a pleuritic fever; after some cordial had been administered to him, he was taken in a coach to the dooi of his lonely home. Alas 1 he either had neighbouring enemies, or some mischievous boys had stuffed the key-hole with dirt and stones ; tlie door could noi be opened, and the poor painter, shivering with cold and disease, was obliged to resort to the temporary shelter which a companion found for him, and then left him sick and alone. He unfortunately remained two days without medical aid ; delirium and severe inflammation ensued, and although he rallied so much as unadvisedly to go forth to seek his friend, he lingered but a few days, and died on the 22d of February, i8o5 (when he was sixty-five years of age). His body lay in state in the rooms of the Adelphi in the presence of his great work, and was buried in St. Paul's. There he rests side by side with the great ones of his profession. Posterity has reversed the position of West and his competitor : the first is last, and the last first." William Blake was born in Carnaby Market, in 1757. He was as tender, though his tenderness was not without passionate impatience and unassailable per- sistence, as Barry was fiejce, and withal William Blake v/as fully the more impracti- cal of the two men. His father was a respectable hosier, who wished to rear the son to the father's trade ; but at the earnest suggestion of the wife and mother, aided by the silent appeal of the boy's drawings and poems on the back of shop bills, he con- sented to William's being a painter. At his own request he was apprenticed not to a painter but to an engraver, under whom he worked hard, studying also under Fuseli and Flaxman, while he still found odd moments to " make drawings illustrated by verses," to hang in his mother's room. He was not less happy as an apprentice than he was all through his life of struggles and privations, down to his poverty-stricken I f! *- S BLAKE. 137 !• K death-bod. Blake's history is one of the most signal instances of triumph of spirit over HiHtter, and of the possibility of a man's holding within himself — within his reverent spirit, a'iU the exercise of its gifts under God's permission, — the capabilities of the highes'. happiness in the most adverse circumstances. William Blake was always happy, and always at work from youth to age, while he was as indifferent to money-getting as to the so-called pleaf.ures of idleness. He was a little crazy, it is true, but his craze was a very gracious ctaze. When six-and-twenty years of age William Blake married a poor girl called Kathe-rine Burtchcr, conducting his courtship in his own odd, gentle, indomitable fashion. He had been telling the girl some of his troubles, when she .said, " I pity you." " Do you pity me ?!' responded Blake, " then I love you for it ;" and " so they were married ;" and never had a poor genius a wife more absorbed in him and his genius, more sympathetic and uncomplaining. She never doubted the wisdom of his wildest exploits in art, saying, even when her loving eyes, under his teaching, failed to see any disentanglement from the dire, glorious puzzle, " that she was sure it had a meaning, and a fine one." Blake began business as a print-seller with a friend for a partner, and a favourite brother for an apprentice, but the brother died, and the friend quarrelled with him. The shop was soon given up, and Blake worked thenceforth in his poor home sur- rounded by his family. He wrote poetry, designed, engraved, composed music to his heart's content. The closest proximity to domestic bustle did not jar upon him, for such bustle had no sordid care for him ; ho continued wonderfully indifferent to, and independent of, the appreciation of the world, even when he was reduced to such poverty that " he could only buy copperplates about four inches by three." But it is questionable whether this withdrawing from the outer world did not foster the vivid realization of his own visions which tended to crazincss, and in Blake became ab o- lute craziness. He began quickly to believe that the spirit of his dead brother visited him, and revealed to him secrets of tinting and engraving which he imparted to his wife, who was to be his proud and happy assistant in his art, and to none besides. In these early days he composed his first important, and his most lasting work — the volume called "Songs of Innocence and E.xperience," including sixty-eight lyrics. These songs, which might have been written by an inspired child, are unapproached, save by Wordsworth — and that at a later period, for exquisite tenderness and pure fervour. The lines on the Tiger, the Chimney Sweep, and another song which dwells on the ineffable grace of God, are beyond praise. The whole have now a high repu- tation, but the book did not sell in Blake's day. He proceeded as dauntless in his own very different way, as Barry was In his, as convinced of his own high calling, and at the same time an infinitely happier man, to design and engrave his Gates of Paradise with sixteen illustrations, his Urizen (the very name unintelligible) with twenty-seven illustrations, and his Jerusalem with one hundred tinted engravings, on which he put the moderate price of twenty-five guineas, but failed in finding a purchaser. The failure did not cost him a moment's self-dis- trust in the middle of his dreams, or — and the exemption was more singular — the least grudge at the hcodlesj world. He believed that he knew himself to be so great 138 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. and favoured a man that he could smile placidly at the world's blindness, and set himself to touch and re-touch his Jerusalem to the last. The world indeed, so far as he crossed its path, was completely mystified by Blake. Sober-minded, matter-of-fact Englishmen, who went and looked at what they were told was " the spiritual form of Nelson guiding Leviathan," or " the spiritual form of Pitt guiding Behemoth," in an exhibition of Blake's works at the house of his brother, came away shaking their heads. The shock which his fellow-countrymen's common sense had received, was not lessened if one of them was bold enough to visit the strange painter at work, and found himself authoritatively waved back from the chair on which the visitor was pro- ceeding to seat himself " Don't you see that chair is already occupied ?" exclaimed the indignant painter. " By whom ?" asked the open-mouthed stranger, blinking and staring at the empty chair. " Why, Lot is sitting there," .e-'/s the painter quietly and decisively ; and he goes on unmoved with the delineations of " enormous fishes preying on dead bodies, the great sea serpents, angels pouring out spotted plagues and furies in the sun." Blake's small amount of remunerative work consisted in his illustrations of books, such as " Young's Night Thoughts." Perhaps the happiest period of Blake's happy life was when summoned down to Susse.x by Hayley, to illustrate for him his Life of Cowper, and spent three years in the country. During that sojourn Blake used to "warder at evening by the sea, believing that he met I. loses and Dante," " gray, luminous, majestic, colossal shadows," as he called them ; or in the garden, " seeing fairies' funerals, and drawing the demon of a flea." And the most vexed season was on account of a misunderstanding between Cromek the publisher, and Blake and Stothard the two painters, with regard to a commission to paint a Canter- bury Pilgrimage, when Oomek said disrespectfully of Blake's account of his having received the commission, that the statement was " one of Blake's dreams." But the dreamer soon shook off the momentary disturbance to his impregnable per.ce Getting always poorer, and it seemed happier, with " but one room for study, kitchen, and bcd^room," and earnings of eighteen shillings a week for income, the poet painter was growing old, with his spirit unabated, and his gladness in life and work undimmed ; constantly devising and executing fresh prophetical fancies, always more fantastic and incomprehensible. His last home was in Fountain Court, Strand, where the kindness of friends in buying his poems placed him at least above the reach of want. He began to illustrate Dante, and he still tinted \\\?, Jerusalem sitting bolstered up in bed at last, in order to put the final touches before he said " It is done, I cannot mend it." As he had rejoiced in life, he rejoiced in death, telling his wife — " I glory in dying, I have no grief but in leaving you, Kate ;" and he asked again for pencils and brushes in order to try and paint a last likeness of his best and life-long friend. " He lay singing extemporaneous songs," and " died without his wife, who watched him, knowing the moment of his death." He died in his seventy- second year, in 1828. In personal appearance William Blake was a little man, with a high forehead and large dark eyes. THE TEMPTATION ON THE MOUNT. (From the ori^inaJ faiH/ini' by Ary Schtfftr.) STOTHARD. 139 ' An attempt was made to induce his widow to disclose the process by which he attained his brilliant, sometimes gor^jcous, tints, but regarding her fidelity to her hus- band's memory as involved in the preservation of his secret, she constantly refused to tell it, and so it perished with her. Besides his strange designs, Blake left not less than a hundred MS. volumes of verse, which had grown for the most part as. extrava- gant and incoherent as his drawings. A large part of Blake's MSS, are in the pos- session of Mr. Rossctti the painter. John Fla.xman was a sculptor rather than a painter. He was born in 1755 at York, but was brought up in London, where his father kept a plaster-cast shop in the Strand, in which Fla.xman h.id his first lessons in art. His delicate constitution only rendered him a more diligent scholar, and, when a lad, he was not disheartened by a painter's seeing some eyes which young Flaxman had painted, and asking him if he meant them for flounders. Flaxman early distinguished himself as an art student, and, having been counselled to direct his attention to form in classical subjects, became a modeller. In this light he was employed by Wedgwood, and was chiefly instrumental in producing the artistic excellence of the finest of the Wedgwood pottery. In 1782, when Flaxman was twenty-seven years of age, he married happily a young English woman, named Anne Denman. Meeting Sir Joshua Reynolds soon after his marriage, and being told with considerable severity, if the speech were not made in jest by the veteran bachelor artist, "So, Mr. Flaxman, I hear that you are married; if so, you are ruined as an artist," Fla.\man took the remark so much to heart, that he was spurred on by it to go with his wife to Italy, and there try to reach the height of his profession. It was while in Rome that Flaxman executed the work on which his reputation mainly rests, — no marble or plaster group, though he did good work as a sculptor, but his scries of graceful, life-like, and yet scholarly designs from Homer, /Eschylus, and Dante for Mrs. Hare, the Countess of Spenser, and Mr. Hope. These designs, of which there are many copies, are regarded as so thoroughly artistic, and in the spirit of the masters, as to be unrivalled. Flaxman's position was established when he returned to London, and he was elected, first an associate, then a member of the Academy, and latterly its first profes- sor of sculpture. He died in 1826, when he was in his seventy-second year, having survived his wife six years. He was a mild, unassuming, devout man, somewhat tinged by Swcdenborgian opinions, and was greatly liked by his friends and con- temporaries. Thomas Stothard was born in London in 1755. His father was landlord of the Black Horse in Long Acre, London. Thomas Stothard was a delicate little child, and was boarded, for his health, in the country, up in Yorkshire, his father's native county, witli the widowed mistress of the village school of Acomb. Already he amused himself by drawing. From Acomb he was removed to a better school, and at the age of thirteen returned to London, where he still pursued his education. His father died ;vhen he was fifteen years of age, leaving the lad si.x thousand dollars. He was apprenticed to a silk patte;.i designer, and occupied his spare time in drawings from the poets. The publisher of the Novelist's Magazine engaged Stot- w 140 T//£ 2 4BLE BOOK OF ART. hard in these illustrations for books;, in which the artist won name and fame, and for which he renounced pattern drawing. He was paid five dollars for each of his designs for the Novclisfs Magazine, and his work meeting at once with appreciation, employ- ment was freely offered him. He designed illustrations for the Poetical Magazine, the Toivn u,td Country Magazine, the Ladies' Alagazinc (where the vagaries of fashion must have tried him sorely), for BeWs British Poets, Ossian, &c., &c. Among his drawings for goldsmith's work, that of the Wellington Shield is well known. Thomas Stothard died at his house in Newman Street, London, when he was seventy-eight years of age, in 1834. Angelica K.\ufm.a -in was, as her name implies, of German origin, and was born at Schwarzenbcrg in the Vorarlberg, in 1742. Mer father was a portrait painter, as, we think, we shall find all the women who were artists, received their artistic bent by descent. Joseph Kaufmann cultivated his daughter's talents, carrying her for that purpose to Milan, to Rome, and Venice. An English woman of rank brought Angelica Kaufmann to England, in 1765, when she was in her twenty-fourth year. Her gifts and accomplishments were regarded with much respect by a generation m which English women were struggling to free themselves from the illiteracy that had become their portion at the Restoration. Three years after she came to England, while she was still under thirty years of age, Angelica Kaufmann — or Mrs. Kaufmann, as people named her with old-fashioned courtesy, when gallant artists did not term her the "fair Angelica" — was elected a member of the Royal Academy, being treated with marked distinction by the president, Sir Joshua himself. In return fortius consideration and her gratitude, the artistic world chose to couple the two painters' names together, and make game of the connection, saying now that the fair Angelica had a " tenderness" for Sir Joshua, now that she coquetted with him. The painter who seemed really to have been smitten by the accomplished lady, and who followed her abroad, was Nathaniel Dance. In reality, Angelica Kaufmann was rather an accomplished woman, a good linguist, and a fine musician, than an artist of any value ; her painting was simply mediocre. Unhappily for her she became, during her stay of seventeen years in England, the victim of one of those sorry tragedies, the elements of which are credulous vanity on the one side, and heartless fraud on the other. At the same time that Angelica Kaufmann appeared and was made much of in English society, a Swedish nobleman, called Count Horn, presented his credentials and got an equal welcome from the great world. Not unnaturally, as it might seem, the Swedish nobleman was attracted by the much-admired and sought-after German artist, showed himself more and more won by her, and ended by tendering her an offer of marriage, an offer which was accepted, and the marriage was celebrated immediately and quietly, to satisfy the impatience and the sensitive modesty of the bridegroom. Within a few weeks another Swedish nobleman arrived in England, announcing and proving himself to be the true Count Horn, while he denounced the roguery of his valet who had stolen his master's letters of introduction, and used them to personate the Count, trusting to put the deception to profit before he could be overtaken and LAWRENCE. 141 exposed. The story reads like a scene in Moliere, but it was no sparkling comedy to the miserable and unfortunate woman who had been deluded and betrayed by the base misrepresentation. So far it was unsuccessful, for Angelica Kaufmann had the courage and honesty to accept her release from a marriage which had been con- cluded under false pretences, and to leave the pretender to such punishment as could find him. After his death, and thirteen years later, in 1781, Angelica Kaufmann was married again more fitly to y\ntonio Zucchi, a Venitian painter, and an associate of the Academy. But this marriage proved also an unhappy one. The husband and wife went together to Rome the year after their marriage, and twenty-five years later she ended in Rome a varied and troubled career. Her death occurred in 1807, when she was sixty-five years of ag3. " Her funeral was conducted with great pomp. Above one hundred ecclesiastics in the habit of their different orders, the members of the literary societies in Rome, and many of the nobility, walked in the procession. The pall was borne by young women dressed in white. Two of Angelica Kaufmann's best pictures were carried immediately after the corpse." Sir Thom.vs Lawrence was born at Bristol in 1769. His father was a well-born inn-keeper in the town of Devizes, and young Lawrence, a beautiful child, early showed signs of his future calling by taking the likenesses of his father's customers. The boy was so praised and pushed on, that " he set up as a portrait painter in crayons at Oxford, where his brother was a clergyman, when he was no more than ten years of age, and a short time afterwards took a house at Bath," and actually " at once established a good business," but this early ripeness was a doubtful omen. In a few years, Lawrence relinquished crayons, and adopted oil painting as his medium in art. He came up to London in his nineteenth year, and had the discretion to become a student in the Academy. He was then as remarkable for his personal attractions and winning manner, as for his precocious talent. He was a very hand- some lad, with " chesnut locks flowing on his shoulders," and his fellow-students thought that another " young Raphael" had come amongst them. His success and popularity were still against him, for after being elected an associate of the Academy, and appointed Sir Joshua Reynolds' successor as painter to the king, while he was yet no more than twenty-two years of age, it would have required the great mental calibre of the old painters to have enabled the young man to go on seeing his faults and correcting them. It is said triumphantly that Lawrence was " at the head of his profession at an age in which other painters have generally been labouring in the toils of studentship." But premature pre-eminence is the ruin of many a clever man, who may not indeed be a genius, because genius will surmount the subtlest as well as the severest assaults, but who, had he been lucky enough to have been kept a journey- man, might have been at least the best that the range of his faculties would have permitted him to be. Lawrence neither went abroad (until he was in middle age) to study the great works of the foreign masters, nor did he ever try experiments or alter his method, though, as he advanced in fame and in life, he grew much slower in his practice, and took great pains with his work. Lawrence possessed a dangerous charm to fascinate his contemporaries, and even Reynolds is reported as having fallen under its influence. The painter enjoyed the 142 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. utmost prosperity, having an accumulation of work upon his hands, which prevented him latterly from painting much more than the heads of his sitters, leaving the rest of the figures and their accessories to his assistants. His prices, after 1820, were J! 1,050 for a head, ;$2,ioo for a half-length, and 1^3,150 for a full-length. For Lady Gowcr and Child he received ^7,500. Lawrence was sent to Aix-la-Chapclle by the Regent to paint the allied sovereigns as the nucleus of the Waterloo Gallery at Windsor, and from Aix-la- Chapelle the painter went to Vienna, a great journey in those days, and then to Rome, where he painted the portraits (two of the best) of the Pope and Cardinal Gonsalvi. The terms of the commission to go to Aix-la-Chapelle were not more than ;^5,ooo for travelling expenses and loss of time, with the usual price for each picture. The painter travelled in his own carriage, and was treated with every mark of distinction, and in the end reaped such a harvest of royal and noble commissions from the expedition, that the year which it occupied brought to him the sum of at least $100,000. When at work at Aix-la-Chapelle with the Emperor of Russia for a sitter, the emperor put the pegs into Lawrence's easel, and helped him to lift the portrait on them, after the fashion of Charles V.'s condescension to Titian. Jewelled snuff-boxes and diamond rings proved more substantial tokens of the allied sovereigns' favour for the painter. The true Waterloo heroes who sat to Lawrence in England had their ranks fitly headed by the Duke of Wellington in the dress which he wore and the horse which he rode on the field of Waterloo. Lawrence was elected a full member, and was afterwards President of the Academy ; he was made a member of the Academy of St. Luke at Rome ; he was knighted by the Prince Regent, and he was created a Chevalier of the Legion of Honour. While Lawrence was in the receipt of a large income, he was constantly in pecuniary difficulties. His passion for art collection was the cause. Sir Thomas Lawrence died at his house in Russell Square, in 1830, when he had reached the age of sixty-one years. I CHAPTER II. TURNER— W I LKIE—HAYDON— ETTY— CONSTABLE —NASMYTH—COX—PROUT, &c., &c. HE great landscape painter, Joseph William Mallord Turner, was born in 1775, in Maiden Lane, Covent Garden, London. His father was a hairdresser, in humble circumstances. His mother was a woman of violent temper, which ended in insanity. Young Turner practised his art betimes, exhibiting his drawings, it is said, in the windows of his father's shop. A drawing of the old church at Margate is believed to have been executed in his ninth year. It is Mr. Redgrave's opinion that, though Turner's early home was in a labyrinth of lanes, in the heart of a great city, it was not without its advantage;., which he laid hold of in his future career. The quaint old city buildings fostered, perhaps originated, his taste for architecture, and the broad Thames developed his predilection for river scenery, under every aspect ; while visits to uncles at Brentford and Bristol brought him in contact with fresh landscapes. Turner became a student of the Royal Academy when fourteen years of age. Unlike Lawrence in every respect, it is probable that the gruff, uncouth man of later years was as gruff and uncouth a boy. But whatever Turner wanted in amiability, he was from the first the most industrious and independent of lads. From an early date, he coloured prints for the engravers, thus beginning the connection with book- sellers, which he maintained so largely throughout his life. He also washed- in back- grounds for architects, and gave lessons in drawing. In 1790, when fifteen years of age, Turner exhibited his sketch of A View of the Archbishop's Palace at Lambeth. Of thirty-two drawings shown between the same year, 1790, and 1796, twenty-three were views of the great cathedrals and abbey churches of the kingdom. He had already started on those sketching tours, which he prosecuted indefatigably, and which he turned to marvellous account. He seemed to make his arrangements from the first, with the jealous secrecy which was so marked a feature in the man, and to conduct himself with characteristic eccentricity. »43 144 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. When sketching in a street in Oxford, being annoyed by the curiosity of the passers- by, he hired an old pot.t-chaise, brought it on the scene of action, entered the chaise, and from its window finished his sketch. Turner confined himself at first to water-colour painting, which might be said to be still in its infancy. A trait of his genius, on which most of his critics agree, was his tendency to commence, by imitating successfully the masters, in any field in which he desired to e.xcel. Mr. Redgrave's theory is that Turner, with full conscious- ness of his own powers, desired to match himself with successful painters, and having done so (with what grim satisfaction to himself, who can say?), his originality car- ried him far beyond his models. In his youth, landscape painting was but an exer- cise of topography ; that is, a literal rendering, bit by bit, of a landscape;, without special selection in grouping, special phase, or the employment of the ideal faculty. Turner soon began to draw from the precious store which his devotion to nature from boyhood, and his equally djvotod practice of his art in his perpetual sketches, taken at all times and in all places — from the top of a coach, from the deck of a boat — had enabled him to accumulate, in order to break this dead level of water-colour art. These sketches, many of them in the possession of the nation, show the j)assion of art which possessed the man, and impelled him to never-ending attempts to seize, arrest, and preserve not only every form of animal and vegetable life, but, what was ;,et dearer to him, every shifting, changing light, every glorious effect of atmosphere, every blended and contrasted hue — silvery and pearly, ashen grey and purple black, fiery red and golden yellow — which the sky, with its reflection on the earth, couki assume. His studies of sky alone " are reckoned by thousands." Such an unhalt- ing, unabated pursuit of art, takes away one's breath. Turner exhibited his first picture in oils — View of the Thames at Millbank by Moonlight — in 1797, when he was tw<.Mity-two years of age, and just as he had begun his efforts by following closely his predecessors in water-colour painting, he now followed in oil the Dutch school, and Wilson and Claude, all in their turn to be left behind, while Turner pursued his own solitary antl often transcendant way. His growing disposition to deal with his subjects as " sun-lighted, or shrouded in mist or .■"torm," is illustrated by such quotations from the catalogue of his works at this time, as Fishennen previous to r Storm, Kilgarran Cast/.-, liazy sunrise, JTarhcorth Castle, Thunderstorm, approaching sunset, Adcrgavennv, clearing up after a Shoicur, The ivreck of the Minotaur.^ He was elected an associate of the Academy in I7<)9, a mem- ber in 1800, when he was in his twenty-fifth and in his twenty-eightli year. He had early removed from his father's iiouse to rooms in Il.md Court. In iSoo, he established himself in Ilarley Street, and the following year in Norton .Street, Portland Place. In 1 801 and 1802, Turner extended his sketching tours to France .uul Switzer- land. In 1S07, when he was thirty-two \'cars of age, he was appointed professor of perspective in the Academy, filling the otlice for thirty yeais. In 1808, he began his famous series of prints in brown ink, called J.i!>er Studiorutn, a sort of version of Claude's Liber Vcritatis, Turner continued tin; seri(;s for eleven years, till it extended * Sec Illustiat.on. TURNER. 145 to sevcnty-onc plates, which he sold in 1820 for 573-50, a sum that one of the plates would bring now. Turner was constantly engaged by the booksellers in such works as Southern Coast Scenery, England and Wales, Rivers of England, Rivers of France, Rogers' Italy. His exhibited pictures, between 1787 and 1850, are 275 — a rare amount of work (and such work!) in modern days. In 1 8 19, Turner visited Italy, and from that visit dates one of the changes in, and new developments of, his genius. He visited Italy twice again, in 1829 and about 1840. Close upon the year of Turner's last visit to Italy dates the final and, as many hold, disastrous transition J in his style. In 1812, Turner had built for himself a houre and gallery in Queen Anne Street, and he had also a country-liousc at Twickenham, which he sold in 1827. He was amassing a large fortune, .iiid at the same time establishing and spreading his fame, while his h Its were bccouiing always more cynical and repulsive. A reserved and morose man from his youth, at the same time he was not without a certain bearish geniality, where his brethren in art were concerned. He seems to have been regarded with mingled admiration, wonder, and awe, and doubtless with some asperity and disgust, by his comrades and his pupils. Mr. Redgrave, who appears to have received from Turner marks of favour, and who, in addition to his gratitude, appreciated the giant in art's saturnine humour, gives a very amusing, while a kindly description of Turner's manner as a ciitic and lecturer. His growls, his mumbled words, his pokes in the side, his use of his broad thumb, or snatches at portc crayon and brush to point out an error, with the half of his lecture delivered over his shoulder, in the midst of directions to the attendant who was arranging the sketches and diagrams. In appearance. Turner was a short, stout man, with a very red and somewhat blotched face, in wluch the eyes wee bright and restless, and the nose aquiline. His hands were fit, and were kept not over-clean. He was slovenly in his dress, wearing a black dress-coat in want of brushing, and in the warmest as well as the coldest days, he wore round his ^hroat a wrapper, which he would unloose and let the ends dangle down in front, and dip into the colours on his ample palette. He w. kcJ hat on head, or else with a large wrapper over his head. Mr. Redgrave conij'arcs Turner's appearance to that of a coach driver of the old school. Mr. T^cslie likens the great master'.s personality to that of a ship-captain. Lattorly, Turner did not live in his house in Queen Anne Street, but kept his pictures there, suffering not merely the house but the pictures to fall into the greatest dilapidation. Nothing was more curious in that strange nature of Turner's than his behaviour with rcganl to Iiis jjictures. He was exacting in his money tran.sactions, and sordid in his way of living, ami he was bent well-nigh with fierceness on asserting his claims to the highe'^^ fiiv.e, yet in the later years of his life he not only refused to sell many of hi- pictures — appearing to take . malicious pleasure in the refiisal, — but bought back sev( ral pictures which he had sold, and suffered the whole collection to be irreparably injured by the damp and decay of utter neglect, before he bequeathed it, like the gift of a prince, to the nation. A.S a landscajjc painter, Turner fills now the first place. Other landscape painters may have equalled or even surpassed him in some respects, but none " has yet 146 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. appeared with such \ ersatility of talent." This is the testimony of so impartial a judge as Dr. Waagnt r, though — after referring with enthusiasm to Turner's power over earth and air and sea, and to his deep sympathy with the most varied moods of nature, in its grandeur, melancholy, and cheerfulness, — he qualifies it by the clause, " I should not hesitate to recognize Turner as the greatest landscape painter of all times, but for his deficiency in an indisputable elemc'it in every work of art, viz., a sound technical basis." Turner died in 185 1. StR Daviu VVilkif was born in the manse at Cults, Fifeshire, in 1785. His fathi;r was a minister of the Kirk of Scotland, and parish minister of Cults, one of the smallest parishes in the Kirk ; nevertheless the minister on his slender income married three times, and the painter was a son of the third wife's. Wiikie went as a boy to the village school of Pitlcssie, and electrified school- fellows, dominie, and all, by chalking a head on the floor. Wiikie left the Edinburgh Academy and returned to Cults in 1804, when he was in his nineteenth year. In hU first attempt at painting on his own account, and at home, he hit, by a happy prevision, on the very vein which he was to work to such profit. Wiikie chose for his first picture the great yearly event of the parish, no doubt the great gala of his childhood, Pitlcssie Fair, with its innumerable rustic interests and homely fun. In the very choice there was the individuality of genius, since the l;>u had been kept in his Academy studying the antique, with allegorical and historical art, or portrait painting, held up as the sole aim of his ambition. Of a species of genre painting Hogarth had, indeed, already afforded the best English example ; but not only was Wiikie removed from much association with Hogarth's works, which it was not the fashion of the day to turn to, but the young .Scotsman early instituted a school of genre, distinct from Hogarth's, far less dramatic, deficient m the terror, if not in the pity, aiming at no vigoious moral, but cultivating "the beauty of innocence instead of the hideousncss of crime." The Milage rolitwians was followed in due time by the Blind Fiddler* Alfred in the Neat-lierd' s Cottage (^a mistaken turning aside into historical painting). The Ren! Day, the Jews Harp, &c., &c., until tlie lllhrge Fesfival was attained. This fine pic- ture was sold to Mr. Angerstein for four thousand dollars, and is now in the National Galli.-ry. Between Piflessie Juiir and the Tillage Festival there was an interval of five years in time, but the advance in art Mr. Redgrave declares " is almost that of a life- time." Wiikie in his twenty-fifth year was assured of the fame which he had coveted, and already a year eai-lier, in 1809, he had been elected an associate of the Academy. In 181 1, when Vv'ilkie was twenty-six years of age, he was elected a member of the Academy. The following year his father died, and his motner and sister came up to Eondon to find a home with the son and brother at No. 24, Lower Phillimoro Place, Kensington. The affectionate companionship of the women of his family was r, ;reat boon to a delicate man of domestic habits, who had shown no inclination to marry. Wiikie had just before tried a private exhibition of his works, which as a money speculation proved a failure. * See Frontispiece, Steel Engraving. PRAYER IN AN ARABIAN MOSQUE. (/•Vow the original painting by Mariano I'ortuny.) mtiM HA YD ON. 147 ,r>,&^ (the half a little girl). Exquisite taste of the English people." The wretched painter was, in addition to the heavy difficulties with which he had been for many years struggling, wounded to the quick. " Young men were selected for the work which he had made the ambition of his life, and he was contemptuously l)assed by." The public refused to redress or even listen to his wrongs. He began his third design for the work he had lost, Alfred and the Jury, and sat staring at his picture like an idiot." On the 22nd of June, 1846, he made this ghastly grotesque entry into his diary: "God forgive me! Amen. Finis, B. R. Haydon. 'Stretch me no longer on the rack of this rough world,' Lear" and shot himself It is a comfort to add that the doc- tors who were engaged in the post-mortem examination declared that Haydon's brain was diseased. William Etty was born in 1787 in York. His father was, "like the fathers of Rembrandt and Constable," a miller. He was also a baker of ginger-bread, which his wife sold. The industrious couple were Methodists, and brought up their family not only respectably but piously. " My first panels on which I drew were the boards of my father's shop floor, and my first crayons a farthing's worth of white chalk," wrote Etty long afterwards. Etty began his independent efforts in his profession with marked and protracted want of success, and he is a lively illustration of the gain of perseverance. His trials for the Royal Academy's gold and silver medals unfortunately failed. Work after work of Etty's was refused admission to the Academy and to the British Institution, till 181 1, when he was twenty-four years of age. In 1820, when Etty was thirty-three years of age, his Coral Finders at last made an impression on the public. The year after, the splendid colour of his Cleopatra sailing down the Cydnus was a still more decided hit, and, according to Leslie, " one morning he — Etty — woke famous, after the opening of the Exhibition." He had also found a worthy patron in Sir Francis Frecling. In the following year, 1822, Etty went abroad — he was still but thirty-four years old — and remained for eighteen months, this time visiting Rome and Naples, as well as Florence, but making his longest stay, as was natural for him who was to be the great English colourist, in Venice, which he apofitrophized as " Venice the birth-place and cradle of colour, the hope and idol of my professional life." In 1826 he tried a much larger canvas in The Combat — woman Pleading for the Vanquished, which was bought by his fellow-worker Martin (the painter of high art in ideal landscapes, and such historical scenes as Bclshassar's Feast; a man of genius, *See Illustration. wo, yre ate ind iful [on lad ste ad cd Ay an lis c- in of ^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 Sfiit la ly lU S! U£ 12.0 I.I upturn. 6" HwlDgraphici CorporatiQn ^ .^^ ^. MAIN STRUT WM6tai,N.V. 14Me (n*)t79>4SM vV r ! h\ e: in tl t CONSTABLE. 15^ that its effects were turgid and .xaggoratcd^Ettys,KXt great ^,^^^p^^^^^^^^^ William Etty d,ed m .849, a ,_,^ ,„ „ , q*t -'"= f *= .f^^ ,„y,. received a public funeral, «h™ * ^^^ „f „,e old cathedral fam.har to h, y ^^^ St. Olave," almost «.thm *<= ** g ,, East Bergholt " Suff* . ^' ,^, JOH. C0»s«»- "^,^;" Loured in "-S -socatcd w,tl pamter ^^ ^^^_ that rural dignitary, a m'"«J ° ^on from Etty, '"'^.'V^f^hurch, and when . elder Constable wa, mad fferenP^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^ T, Ac was able to send him stance and weahh m h^ way^ j in»n™°"""*'™s was not however till you,« Constable's vocat'on for P ^ ^^^ ^^ Th,s was ^^^^^^ I London, and -ter h™^^ ^^ twenty-three y--."' "f ..i^Jwasting much ,7,5, wlKU young ConU^b ^^^^ ^^^.__„ histoncal Pam mg a ^_ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ sources, though he would adm ^^ ^^^^^ "°b^'="'^^\f ^' ^Wv RngUsK a quality Uouse in Charlotte Street, 1 .t.roy ^^^^ ^^ ^^^^ °^^^I; a .an. Constable ^^^T^C^^^ ^^ ^^^^ defects of temper =^"f ^^"^^'"^ Leslie. , . ^^^^ respects decidedly biographer in h.s ^^^ ^^l^^^"^;, ;„ variety and po^^^^^ .ijsr^:s:.%jrg::-t^--^^^^^ £ra:doT&omUsa._th^^^^,„,„,^, „,,.er,apnpil^^ PATRICK ^'^^^^^"'■;\!'„j,,^pe painter. ^ ^„d sketch in the Ramsay's, was a good landscai v ^^^^ ,,hool to stroll an ^^^^ The young Nasmyth ^^'^^J^l ^^ ^^.^ive was had m h.s ^^f ^'■^;^'"J\^ft h,„d. fields. What education he con^^^^^^^^^^^ ^'^"^^^^^ ^'d lief T^^^^^^^ - r^"^:hr«^sf:rtunT;rasaniUnesswh^^^^ ,, Eolation Another youthful »"'^'°; ,. jt^, a tendency to take b and thrown in upon hnnscii, 1^2 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. in excess and low company, Nasmyth came to London when he was in his twentieth year, and immediately attracted notice by his works. The first which he exhibited at the Royal Academy was a romantic Scotch subject. Loch Katrine, but it was by English subjects of the homeliest and most familiar rustic life that he won his name as a painter. These lanes and hedgerows, bits of commons, and village streets, with the dwarf oak in its " contorted limbs and scrubby foliage, in preference to other trees," were the subjects which he painted with felicitous Dutch relish, as well as accuracy, which procured for him the somewhat cockney sobriquet of the " English Hobbema." Not unlike Morland in his tastes, Nasmyth was not unlike the English painter in a corrupted nature and miserable fate. He was reduced to paint merely to supply his necessities, painting to the last attack of influenza, of which he died in the middle of a thunder-storm, that he was raised up in bed at his own request to watch. His death occurred in 1831, when Nasmyth was but in his forty-sixth year. David Cox, the water-colour painter, was born in 1783, in Birmingham. He was the son of a blacksmith, and having broken his leg when a delicate little l.id, was presented with a bo.K of colours and a supply of paper, in which he took such delight, that on his recovery his father sent him to a drawing school. He was after- wards apprenticed to a locket painter, but losing his master, he undertook to grind colours for the scene painters at the Birmingham Theatre. In time he rose to be a scene painter himself; then a teacher of drawing and painting in water colours, dili- gently studying nature and those old masters whose works he could command. Eventually he painted in oil as well as in water colours. Samuel Prout was born in 1783 at Plymouth, and as a child gathering nuts and blackberries was sun-struck, a misfortune which affected his health throughout his life. After lodging, with Britton for the purpose of studying during two years in London, St. Kcyvcs Well, Corinoall, was Prout's first work exhibited in the Royal Academy, in 1804, when he was twenty-one years of age. From this time he main- tained himself largely by teaching as well as painting in water colours, writing several manuals on the acquisition of his art. Prout became a member of the Water-colour Society in 1815, when he was thirty-one years of age, and when his reputation was fast rising. The popular use of lithography greatly facilitated his career, and enabled him to publish his views in France, Switzerland, and Italy, &c. &c. The subjects for which Prout was celebrated as a painter were, after he went abroad in 18 18, in search of health, Norman Cathe- drals, and busy market-places, with their quaintly-dressed peasants and their glowing, vivid piles of fruit and vegetables; subsequently he added Venice and the other old Italian towns, with those of Germany and Bohemia, to his stores of subjects. He rarely introduced trees into his scenes. The marked exception to his usual class of paintings was his Tndiaman Ashore, exhibited in 1819, and supposed to be a remini- scence of the Dtxlton, wrecked in Prout's boyhood on the rocks off Plymouth, and sketched at the time both by Prout and Haydon. After suffering from prolonged bad health Prout died at Camberwell in 1858, at the age of sixty-eight. NORTH COTE. 153 Paul Sandbv, "the father of water-colour art," was born at Nottingham in 1725. After some years' service as surveyor to the army, he settled in 1752 at Windsor, near which town he took the subjects of many of his landscapes. He subsequently painted many views in Wales for Sir Joseph Banks and Sir Watkin Wynne. Sandby was instructor in drawing to the children of George III., an J was in 1768 elected one of the original members of the Rojal Academy, and in the same year was appointed drawing-master to the Military Schools at Woolwich. He died at London in 1809. Besides his views in water-colour and body-colour, Sandby executed numerous engravings in aquatint, a medium then scarcely known in England. Examples of his art may be seen in the South Kensington Museum. Rohert Smirkk, who was born at Carlisle in 1752, was apprenticed in London to a herald-painter ; he was also a member of the Incorporated Society of Painters. The first works which he exhibited in the Royal Academy were Xarcissus and Sabriiia; they appeared in 1786. In 1791 he was made an Associate, and two years later he became a full member. In 1804 Smirke was elected to the office of Keeper of the Royal Academy, but owing to his revolutionary politics, the royal sanction was denied. Smirke died in London in 1845, at the advanced age of ninety-three. He was one of the painters who illustrated Boydell's Sliakspcarc Galkrv. Smirke also executed numerous works in illustration of authors both English and foreign. James Northcote was born at Plymouth in 1746. By his father, who was a watchmaker, he was made to serve seven years' apprenticeship to that trade. On quitting his home in 1 771, young Northcote obtained an introduction to Sir Joshua Reynolds, who received him into his studio as a pupil, and into his house as a friend. At the .same time Northcote studied in the Academy schools, but as he began to learn art so late in life, he never fully acquired its technicalities, and, like Fuseli, his method of execution always remained slovenly. In 1777, he went to Italy, where he studied the works of the old masters, more especially those of Titian. On his return to England in 1780, Northcote, after a short time spent in his native county, settled in London, where, as before, he maintained himself by portrait painting. His first great work did not appear until 1786. It was one of the nine pictures which he painted for Boydell's " Shakespeare Gallery," and the subject was the Murder of the young Princes in the Towcr^ afterwards followed in quick succession, The Meeting of the yonng Princes ; Romeo and Juliet ; The Death of Mortimer ; King Edivard I] \ and his Queen; Prince Arthur and Hubert, and lastly. King Richard II. and Bolingbroke. One of his best works is the Dcatli of Wat Tyler, painted for the Corporation of London. It now hangs in the Guildhall. Of other works by him we may notice the series of the Diligent Servant and the Dissipated, Idle and Industrious Apprentice. He died in London in 1831. CHAPTER III. FRENCH ART.— J 'I EN— DA I 'I D—ISABEY—IN GRES- GE RICAULT—VERNEr—DELAROCHE- ARY SCHEFFER—TROYON, &c., &c. •"-s ^ r*.' ^ \\ \f T Montpcllicr, in 17 lO, was born JosEi'ii Makik Vien. He studied first in Paris, and it was he who in historical paintinciutrc lic cabinet to the luiiperor, and director of the Imperial fetes and assemblies. In the former capacity lie painted upwards of two hundred miniatures of Napoleon to be given away, as presents, yearly, receiving five hundred francs for each miniature. In 1 8 14 he painted miniatures of the .strangers of distinction in Paris, not being withheld from the work by any .sympathy with David's scrupulous fidelity to his master. Isabey was even sent by Talleyrantl to paint tiic portraits of the members of the congress of Vienna, of whom he made a large-group picture. He was pcintrc dc cabinet to Charles X., and honorary conservator of the public museums under Louis Philippe. At different times Isabey painted most of the contemporary sovereigns of Europe. Isabey died a veteran artist in his eighty-ninth year, in 1855. His miniatures, full of taste and tilent, are still much prized, and when exposed to sale continue to fetch considerable sums of money. Isabey's son is a clever French marine and landscape painter. Jean Dominique Auclste Inokes was born at Montauban in 1781. He was the son of a painter who was at the same time a musician. Young Ingres studied the violin to such purpose, that at the age of thirteen years he took part in a concert in the theatre of Toulouse at a festival held in honour of the King's execution. At sixteen years Ingres entered the school of David, and no longer thought of music as a profession, though he remained a violin player, for his own delectation, to the end of his days. Ingres very soon became David's best pupil. He and the old painter Greuze were both commissioned to paint the First Consul, who declined to sit for his portrait, so that the only opportunity for obtaining a particular likeness of him afforded to the painters, was the chance of observing him as he passed through a gallery at St. Cloud. But the great man also ob.served the painters, and said to one of his ofticers — "Are these the painters who are to paint my portrait? H'm ! as to this one " (staring at Ingres), " I consider him too young ; as to that one" (staring at Greuze), " he's too old." Ingres went to Rome in 1806, when he was twenty-five years of age, and remained there fourteen years, till 1820 when he was in his fortieth year. For the next four years he lived in Florence, and in 1824 he returned to Paris, and opened an atelier for pupils. During his long residence abroad Ingres produced many historical and religious pictures from Greek, Roman, and French history, and from the lives of the saints, among which was his Vcnv of Louis XHI. His countrymen received him back with acclamation ; he was made member of the Institute, appointed professor in the school of the Fine Arts, and had the Cross of the Legion of Honour bestowed on him. In 1827 Ingres painted his " long circular composition," the Apotheosis of Homer, for the ceiling of the Louvre, which his admirers have regarded as one of his master-pieces. In 1829, when Ingres was in his forty-ninth year, he went again to Rome to fill T A) ! VEKNE T. 157 I 1 the post of director to the Frcncli Academy there, and contimied in the congenial city of the C.nesars and of the triumphs of Micliacl Anyelo, till 1 841, when the painter again returned to his native country, a man of sixty years of age, but still not near the end of his long and illustrious career. Ingres married twice, and Mr. Hamerton tells us how much the first Madame Ingres did secure to her husband the uninterrupted tranquillity which was so helpful to his success in art; how she transacted ail the business part of the .sale of the portraits in pencil, by wliicli, while he was still a poor and unknown man, lie had to maintain himself and his household ; how she stood between her husband and his employers, taking upon herself the worry of such details, and guarded his privacy and his precious moments of time. That Ingres was very successful even in a worldly point of view, is proved by the fact of his long list of honours — as " senator ; great officer of the Legion of Honour; knight of the order of civil merit, Prussia; commander of the order of St. Josephe of luscany; knight Grand Cross of the order of Guadaloupe ; member of the Institute of France, of the academies of Florence, Amsterdam, Antwerp, Berlin, Vienna;" and that he lived to see a picture of his sold for 518,000. Ingres died in 1867, in the eighty-seventh year of bis age. Among Ingres' great paintings are his QLdipus, Stmtonicc, Voii< of Louis XIIT., Andromache, and the Slave and her Slave.* Je.vn Louis Gekicaui.t and Elcknk Dklackoix led the French re-action against classical painting, and formed the romantic school which is said to have hatl its origin in the ,>cetry of Goethe, Scott, and Byron. Jean Louis Gericault was born at Rouen, in 1790, and was the pupil, first of one of the Verncts, and afterwards of Guerin, who was a distinguished pupil of David's, and of the extreme classical school. Gericault, however, rebelled against classicism, and entered his best protest against it in his great picture of a shipwreck. The Raft of the Medusa, which is now in the Louvre. He painted this in assertion of his own instincts, and in defiance of the fiat of his master, who had pronounced Gericault incapable of painting. "A state of isolation" his position is justly defined, and it might have also been called a state of mutiny till he cacomplished his protest, and enlisted a crowd of followers on the side of simple, and natural, if too physical power. His picture has come to be regarded as " one of the principal attractions" of the French portion of the gallery. The results of the terrible shipwreck with its living and dead victims are only too signally effective, and seem made to shake, if not to overthrow, traditional art. They are like the rough expression of the living present, beside the most scholarly fruit of the dead past. Gericault was not thirty when he painted The Raft of the Medusa; he died five years after its exhibition, when he was only thirty-four years of age. Horace Vernet, or Emile Jean Horace Ve met, was born in Paris, in 1789. He was the son of a race of painters, like the old families of the Caracci, the Bassani, or the Holbeins. He may be said to have been born a painter, and to have taken to it as other children take to play. When he was but eleven years he drew a tulip, for which lie was given twenty-four sous ; and when a lad of thirteen, the famous battle- *See Steel Engraving. 158 THE TABLE BOOK OE ART. painter of future days was able to cam his livelihood by painting. At twenty, by his father's advice, in order to deter him from a militar> career, young Vernet married, and took upon himself the cares of a family, and he contrived to make, in h'- own way, progress, and to prosper through great political changes, and a long life. As early as 1814, when he was a young man of five-and-twenty, he received from Napoleon I. the Cross of the Legion of Honour ; before he was forty he was elected a member of the Institute. Two years later, in 1828, he was appointed Director of the French Academy at Rome, in which he resided for nine years, and then returned to I'rance. In 1844, when he was yet in the prime of life, his daughter was married worthily to another great French painter, Paul Delaroche, but her death in the year after her marriage threw the first heavy cloud over the genial temper of her father. At the Paris Exhibition of 1855 Vernet was awarded a Grand Medal of honour. He had exhibited on the occasion twenty-two pictures, including several of his most famous battle-pieces. Vernet was a typical Frenchman, brave, frank, kindly, good-humoured, and innocently vain, with immense powers of work, and a wonderful memory, to which he trusted, in place of subjecting himself to the restraint and delay involved in the use of a model. Horace Vernet died at Paris in 1863, in his seventy-fifth year. Pall Delaroche was born at Paris in 1797. His baptismal name was Hippolyte, but he was called by his family Paul, and from the year 1827 his signature to his pictures was Paul Delaroche — a signature now become world renowned. His father was an official valuator of the works of art offered to the Monte-de-Pietc, while his uncle was curator of the engravings in tlie Paris library, so that the lad breathed early an atmosphere of art. The effects of such an atmosphere were shared by an elder brother, who, along with Paul, sought to be a painter, and with regard to this brother's right of choice, Paul decided to confine himself to landscape painting, but the early abandonment by Jules Delaroche of the profession of art, enabled the true painter, Paul, to widen his field indefinitely. Finally he fixed on historic art as his career, and entered the atelier of Gros, a well-known leader of the classic school. While still a pupil of Gros's, Delaroche received a commission from the Duchess of Orleans, the future Queen Amalie, to paint for her a Descent from the Cross, which was to be placed in the chapel of the Palais Royal. Contn • to the etiquette of the ateliers, Delaroche accepted the commission, and worked at it without the knowledge of Gros. On its completion the young painter had the courage and frankness to ask his master to come and look at his work. The master refused to visit a pupil's atelier, but forgave the offence so far, as to bid the pupil bring the work to the master's atelier, when he might have his opinion. To the credit of both master and pupil, when Delaroche complied with the stipulation, Gros praised generously all that Avas praiseworthy in the picture. But Delaroche of all painters was least likely to be held fast by the classic school, and while endeavouring to found a .school of his own, which should be distinct from the dramatic school of Gcricault and Delacroix, he retained no more of the classic school's austerity than what was necessary for his careful and correct rendering of a simple purpose, in which expression of human feeling was always the most powerful element. „ ^ ^ DELAROCHE. 159 Delarochc's first picture which drew attention was Joas rescued by Josaheth, exhibited in 1822, when the painter was twenty-five years of age. Two years later he executed his picture oi Jean d'Arc exainined in prison by the Cardinal of Win- chester, which is as well known by engravings in England as in France. Indeed Delaroche, by the bent of his genius, quite as much as by his fondness for English subjects, shares with Ary Schcficr a wide English popularity. In 1827, when the painter was thi;',/ years of age, he obtained the Cross of the Legion of Honour. Four years later Delaroche produced his Children of Edzuard the IV. in the Tozver,"* which induced a French poet to write a tragedy on the pathetic old story, that is said to be also the origin of the ancient ballad — long sacred to nursery litera- ture, of The Babes in the Wood. The following year, 1832, Delaroche, in his thirty- sixth year, became a member of the Institute, and exhibited what judges hold a still finer work than that of The Princes in the Tozuer, his Croimvell looking on Charles I. in his coffin. In 1833 the painter suffered a great disappointment. He had received a commi-ssion to decorate the church of the Madeleine, and had made preparatory studies for the work during a year and a half, when he was prevented from going on with his task. It was small compensation to the enthusiastic painter that he was appointed professor to the School of Fine Arts. An instance of Paul Delaroche's inaccessibility to the temptations of avarice is given by Ottley in connection with this Hemicycle. The original order given for the work by the Minister of the Interior was that it should consist of twenty-four figures, of which Delaroche submitted a sketch, to be finished in a year, and for which he was to receive a payment of $15,000. The twenty-four figures grew under Delaroche's hand to seventy-five in number, and the time to be spent in the work extended to four years. A proposal to make a corresponding increase of the remuneration was intimated to the painter. But he answered — perhaps with a recollection of the speech of Ghirlandajo, in his day, and if with something of the perennially youthful, grand air, nearly inseparable from the Frenchman in the circumstances, still, certainly, with much dignified moderation and singleness of heart — " No, of my own will I did what I have done, and I .shall receive nothing beyond the stipulated sum." He added, " and I shall be amply paid for my labour, inasmuch n -. I have learned more from the execution of this work than by all my studies that preceded it." In 1855, when Paul Delaroche was in his fifty-ninth year, by an accidental fire his Hemicycle, in the School of the Fine Arts, was almost completely destroyed, without disturbing the equanimity of the painter ; he was only eager to have a fresh opportunity to correct the faults which he was constantly .seeing in his work, and to do it all over again in order that he might do it better than he had done it before. But another hand was to restore the Hemicycle of Delaroche ; a disease which had been neglected in its earlier approaches, wasted his strength in the short space of three weeks. "Stay, don't go to-night," he begged of a favourite pupil on the last night of his life, and towards morning, when the faithful watcher left the room for a moment, he returned to find his master dead. Paul Delaroche died, in 1856, in the fifty-ninth year of his age. * See Steel Engraving. f r i6o T//£ TABLE BOOK OF ART. Ill token of Delaroche's inclination to take English subjects for his work, we may name, in addition to the examples given, his Death of Queen Elizabeth, his Execu- tion of Lady Jane Grey, and his Strafford on his way to the Scaffold, the two last shown in this year's Exhibition of the Works of Old Masters. His famous French subjects, Cardinal Richelieu on the Rhine, Cardinal Maaarin Dying, The Death of the Duke of Guise, Marie Antoinette after hearing her Sentence, Napoleon I. at Fontainebleau, and Go'cral Bonaparte Passing the Alps, were not rendered with more feeling. Three other pictures of Delaroche's are widely known by engravings, St. Cecilia playing on the Organ, supported by Angels, Moses saved from the Nile, and a girl martyr floating on the Tiber, with an aureole above her head. Celebrated pictures of his, still more distinctly sacred, are The Virgin xvhile Jesus is led to E.xecution, and Tlie Virgin contem- plating the Croivn of Thorns ; he was engaged on a picture of The Death of the Virgin when he was seized with his last illness. We shall describe, as far as we can, from our engraving, the Princes in the Tower. The two unhappy little lads sit together on the bed where they are to be murdered. The eldci, just proclaimed Eihvard V., in his mourning black velvet mantle, with his fair hair cut short across the brow, and hanging down in wavy locks on his shoulders, in a fashion that the renewal of an old mode has made familiar to us, has been beguiling the weary time, while he tries to play the man, by reading in a great book which he holds open, but he glances from it jealously to the door, attracted there b.y a slight noise. The same noise causes a dog, an old playfellow, and the last faithful follower of the king's sons, to rise and prick one ear, while it stretches forward to gaze suspi- ciously in the same direction. The poor young Duke of York, in his crimsoned hose and pointed shoon, jerkin and velvet bonnet, makes no pretence of being man or prince, but is only a wan and wear}' little boy, so crushed by misfortune, that terror itself is extinguished in him, and only his desperate weariness and his want of his mother is perceptible, where he sits with his hands clasped, and resting for support on his elder brother's shoulder, his heavily-drooping head leaning also on that of his youthful protector. Nothing can exceed the air of innocent helplessness, even in the sad watchful expression of the elder brother, and the useless warning given by the roused dog, with the haunting presage of a great and most cruel crime, which pervades the whole group. Arv SchkI'FKR was born in 1795 at Dort. His father was a German and a painter ; his mother, who was the good genius of her son's life, was a Dutch lady. Ary SchelTer showed his love of art when a child in dabbling with paint and brushes in his father's studio. His father died when Ary Scheffer was about fifteen years of age, and his mother, desirous to give him and his two brothers the best education in her power, after sending Ary, her eldest son, to a school at Lille, removed to Paris and settled there, enduring courageously many privations, in order to promote the welfare of her sons, and finding her chief happiness in them. Ary Scheffer received an introduction to Lafayette, and went in 18 18, when the painter was twenty-three years of age, to the Chateau de la Grange to paint its master — * See Steel Engraving. » TR OYOiV. I6l at the time when Lady Morgan visited La Grange, and made her sketches of its household, for the benefit of the English world. An important effect of Ary Scheffer's connection with Lafayette may be traced in the influence by which the impulsive painter became an Orleanist — to the extent of joining with his two brothers, at the risk of their liberties, if not of their lives, in the plots which preceded the revolution of 1830. Another result was the heroic element beginning to appear and gradually to predominate over the domestic in Ary Scheffer's pictures. Thus, in 1819, he exhibited T/ie Devotion of the Burghers of Calais ; in 1822, St. Louis attacked by the Plague visiting the Sick; in 1824, Gaston de Foix found dead at Ravenna; in 1827, The Death of Jean D'Arc ; in 1828, An Episode of the Retreat from Russia (with which we think our readers must be familiar by engravings^ Ary Scheffer showed also at this time an inclination to English, or rather Scotch subjects, which has not been rare in French artists, but which it is rather curious to find in a man who, half in jest, half in earnest, disliked England and the English. Ar>' Scheffcr confessed with regard to England to an English woman — " I do not like England — that is, the English. They are such proud, insolent, scornful, conceited people ! looking upon themselves as superior to all the rest of the world !" and in the seizure from his last illness, which overtook him in London, he kept continually crying out — " I shall die of this heavy London air." Yet among the early pictures by Ary Scheffjr we find one from a scene in the Antiquary ; a second, from a scone in The Heart of Midlothian ; and a third, from Macbeth ; a fourth, a famous picture after the artist had begun to know and exercise his power, is from an English source — Byron's Giaour. But before he painted the last, Ary Scheffer had vindicated his German origin by beginning the series of pictures from Faust, which the painter continued at intervals to the end of his life, that proved how Goethe's great poem had enthralled and absorbed his countryman. The return of the painter Ingres from Italy to Paris had produced a great effect on Scheffer as an artist, and after adding to the names of the poets whose works he had illustrated, that of Dante, Scheffer's genius began to take a higher flight still. The death of his much-cherished mother in 1839 probably gave a bent to this flight, for about 1 841 he painted his Annunciation to the Shepherds ; in 1842, his Suffer Little Children to come unto Me ; in 1844 appeared his Magi ; and in 1847 his Holy Women. In 1854 Scheffer painted, what are among his finest works, Tlie Ruth and Xaomi, The Magdalene in ecstacy, The Groanings, and The Temptation.* Ary Scheffer died in his own house on the 15th of June, 1858. He was in the sixty-fourth year of his age. To those who judge of French landscape painters by the bits of strangely, how- ever artfully, manipulated landscape which appear in the background of the painters of the classic school, and to whom even the great popularity of Rosa Bonheur has not come as a revelation, Constantine Troyon and his merits ought to be specially mentioned. Constantine Troyon was born at Sevres in 181 3, and spent much of his youth as a porcelain painter. Lat:r he studied in the atelier of Riocreux, and the know- ' Sec Engraving. ■ 1 62 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. w \ ledge which he acquired there, together with the loving study which he had already given to nature, induced him to become a landscape painter. In 1833, while he was still but twenty years of age, he exhibited his first pictures, among them A Nook in the Park of St. Cloud; and for a number of years he produced landscapes taken from the neighbourhood of Paris, which have long been held in high estimation, and have passed into various private art collections in France. His Oxen Ploughing was bought by government. His Valley of the Toiiquc was exhibited with several other pictures by Troyon at the great Paris Exhibition of 1855. He had already been elected a member of the Academy of Amsterdam, and had received the decoration of the Legion of Honour. Constantine Troyon died in his fifty- third year, in 1865. Leopold Robert was born in Switzerland, in 1794. At first an engraver, then a pupil of David and Gerard at Paris, whilst Gericault was studying under Pierre Gucrin, he went very late to Italy to become an original painter, and almost im- mediately after gave up art by a voluntary and premature death. In Italy he re- turned to the tradition of historical landscape — scenes of history mixed with the scenes of nature. His subjects varied, are chosen intelligently, and carefully studied even in their slightest detail, and are full of poetry. We always feel in them his love of the beautiful as well as of the true ; and the country round Rome, as he repre- sents it, becomes as noble as ancient Arcadia. Three of his most important works were presented to the Louvre by King Louis-Philippe — the Italian Iniprovisatorc, the Feast of the Madonna di Pie-di-grotta, and the Han'cst Feast in the Roman Campagna. Ferdinand Victor Eugene Delacroix was born at Chareton Saint-Maurice, near Paris, in 1799. When eighteen years of age he was apprenticed to Guerin ; but, being dissatisfied with that master's art, he struck out a new path for himself and became the leader of the so-called " Romantic School." In 1830 Delacroix visited Spain, Algiers and Morocco, and on his return was much patronized by M. Thiers, who procured for him the commission to paint numerous works in the Palais Bour- bon ; the Hotel de Ville; the Lu.xembourg; the Louvre; and other public buildings, as well as churches in Paris. He died in 1863. Eugene Delacroix is well represented by the four works in the Louvre, which bear his name : Dante and ['Tr^// painted in 1822, the Massacre of Scio in 1823, the Algerian Women irt 1834, and the Jewish Marriage in Morocco, in which we are able to follow the several phases of his talent. These works were succeeded by the Bridge of Taillebourg, a Medea, the Shipivrecked Mariners, the Entrance of Baldwin into Constantinople, and many others. Jean Baptiste Camille Corot, one of the best of modern French landscape painters, was born at Paris in 1796. He was apprenticed to a draper, but young Corot was determined to be a painter, and, in spite of all that his parents did to dissuade him, entered in 1822, the studio of Michallon. When that artist died, Corot studied for a time under Victor Bcrtin, but quitting that master, he went to Italy, where, during a stay of several years, he applied himself diligently to ctudy landscape painting from nature. In 1827 appeared Corot's first works, a l^ezv of Narni, and the Campagna of Rome ; in the Paris E.xhibition of 1855, he exhibited Morning Effect and Evening, and in the same 'ear received a first-class medal ; in the London FLANDRIN. 1 63 Exhibition of 1862, he was one of the artists who represented the French school, and ajjain in 1 871, in which year he exhibited no less than twenty-one pictures. He was also a frequent exhibitor in the French Gallery, Pall Mall. He died in 1875. " Corot was a poet, and his canvasses are the expression of refined ideas. Joseph Louis Hippolyte BELLAxtiE was born in Paris in 1800, and took his earnest lessons in art from Gros, acquiring some reputation for his lithographic draw- ings of military figures when scarcely more than a boy. In 1824 Bellange won a second-class medal for an historical picture; in 1834, he was made a member of the Legion of Honour; in 1835, he obtained one of the prizes of the French Interna- tional Exhibition ; his best known picture is A Square of Rtipublicaii Infantry re- pulsing Austrian Dragoons. His most important pictures, however, are to be seen in the Collections at Versailles and the Luxembourg, and include his Battle of the Alma, Painful Adicux, the Departure from the Cantonment, the Cuirassiers at Waterloo, the Battle of Fleurus, the Return from Elba, the Morning after the Battle of Gemappes, and The Image Seller* This popular painter of battle-scenes died in May, 1865. Alexander Gabriel Decamps, who was born at Paris in 1803, is chiefly cele- brated for the pictures of Eastern subjects which he introduced to the Parisian public. The gallery of Sir Richard Wallace contains more than thirty paintings by this artist — many of which are Scriptural subjects. His Turkish School, the History of Samson, and the Defeat of the Cimbri, are among his most celebrated works. Decamps died at Fontainebleau in i860. Jean Hippolvte Flandrix was born at Lyons in 1809, and accompanied by his brother Jean Paul, v/cnt to Paris to enter the school of Les Beaux-Arts in 1829, carrying off during his studentship there the first grand prize for his picture of Theseus recognizing his Father at a Banquet, besides several minor honours. In 1832 he went to Rome and became a student in the French school of art in that city, then presided over by Horace Vernet. In 1835 Vernet was replaced by Ingres, who conceived a warm affection for young Flandrin, and did much to forward his career. The chief works produced by the young artist at this time were a scene from i\\c Inferno ; Euripides writing his Tragedies in a Cavern near Salamis ; and St. Clair first Bishop of Xantes healing the Blind, which last (now in the cathedral at Nantes) took the Roman gold medal of the first class. About 1839 Flandrin returned to Paris and the next few years of his life were devoted to the decoration of the chapel of St. John in the church of St. Severin. That task satisfactorily accomplished, and rewarded with the order of the Legion of Honour, Flandrin painted, first, a picture of St, Ijjuis dictating the Laws of the Constitution, for the present senate-house, and then a series of twenty subjects from the Old and New Testament in the church of St. Germain des Pres. He also contributed a frieze, containing over two hundred figures, to the decorations of the church of St. Paul at Nantes. In 1853 Flandrin became an officer of the Legion of Honour, and a member of the French Academy. In 1857 he was elected professor of painting at that institution, and held the appointment until his death, which took place in March, 1864. *See Steel Engraving. 164 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. r Jean Fraxqois Millet was born at Grcvillc, near Cherbourg, in 1815. As his parents were but peasants, and unable to afford to give their son an art education — which his early-displayed talent showed would not be thrown away upon him — the authorities of Grcville furnished him with the means of going to Paris, and entering the studio of Paul Delaroche. But young Millet showed neither taste nor aptitude for historic painting, and accordingly, after a short sojourn with Delaroche, he left that master and sought instruction from nature alone. He married, and settled at Barbizon, near the Forest of Fontainebleau, and there from the fields and woods, and from the peasants he took the subjects of his works. His first exhibited picture, the Milkiwman, appeared at the Paris Salon in 1844 ; to the Paris Exhibition of 1855 he sent his Peasant grafting a Tree ; in the London Exhibition of 1862 appeared a Rustic Scene; and in the Paris Exhibition of 1867, no less than nine pictures of rustic life. The Flax Crushers, one of his best pictures, was exhibited in the French Gallery, Pall Mall, in 1874. Millet died at Barbizon on the 20th of January, 1875. Jean Louis Hamon was born at Ploaha, C6tes-du-Nord, in 1 821, and was edu- cated for the priesthood. His love of art, however, led him to renounce the sacred profession ; and having obtained a grant of five hundred francs from his native place, he made his way to Paris, and began the study of painting under Paul Delaroche and M. Gleyre. In 1848 appeared his first pictures, one a genre subject called Le Dessus de Parle, and the other a sacred work, Christ's Tomb, succeeded a little later by a Roman Placard, the Seraglio, and other similar productions which scarcely met with the recognition they deserved. Compelled to earn his daily bread, Hamon now for a time gave up easel painting, and accepted employment in the Sevres manufactory, where he succeeded so well, that in 1852 he was able to resume oil-painting — pro- ducing in the same year his Comedie fliimaine which made his reputation. The most noteworthy of his later works are Ma sicnr n'v est pas ; Ce n' est pas mot; Les Orphe- lins ; L amour de son Troiipean. In 1856 Hamon went to the East, and most of the pictures subsequently painted are on Oriental subjects. He resided some years at Capri, but returned to France shortly before his death, which took place at St. Raphael, in the department of the Var, in 1874. Ale.\andre Georges Henri Regnault was born at Paris in 1847, »v;n£r year he exhibited his Visit to the Gipsy Quarters, striking the first blow wit's u new . nd potent weapon. In 1854 he painted his Andalusian Letter-zcriter for the Qiklmi In 1856 he went again to Spain, and painted his Prayer of Faith shall Save tlw .^iik, a still more striking pic- ture, and one appealing to deeper feeling. The year after his second return, in 1857, when Phillip was forty years of age, he was elected an associate of the Royal Aca- demy, and two years later he became a full member. In i860 he paid his last visit to Spain, and the same year he exhibited the picture which had been a royal commis- sion, it is said reluctantly accepted by him, so triumphant was his success with his Spanish subjects, The Marriage of the Princess Royal. * See Steel Engraving, !!>aB3 -r ( it m *». . LANDSEEH. J 75 i For ten years Phillip continued to use the stores of his Spanish sketch-book, selling his pictures as rapidly as he painted them, at prices till then, with, perhaps, one exception, among modern painters unheard of. M. Rossetti quotes the rumour that for " some dozen " of Spanish pictures Phillip received from two dealers, the sum of ;^ 100,000. It was v.iin for critics to protest that the pictures — the colours of which were so glowing, that ihey caused the colours of all other pictures to look tame and dull in comparison — were deficient in the very highest excellence, and that even their great merits were linked to faults — their gorgeousness was allied to vulgarity, and their dramatic strength to bravura. The tide of popularity — generally so one-sided, was too strong to be turned. There came no abatement to the flood of praise and patronage, until the premature death of the painter— whose hearth had been over- shadowed by a domestic affliction — in 1867, at fifty years of age. Sir Edwin Landseer ranks with the past as well as the present generation. He was born, in 1802, in London. His father was a well-known engraver, whose sons, inheriting his artistic tastes, became in turn either engravers or painters. When he was sixteen, he painted his Doi^s Fighting, which was exhibited, and bought by Sir George Beaumont, and engrav^ed by the elder Landseer. But the success of this juvenile work was far surpassed by that of The Dogs of St. Gothard Discovering a Traveler in the Snow, wl'.ich was exhibited in 1820, when Land- seer was eighteen years of age, and having been engraved by his father became one of Jie most popular prints of the day. !n Landseer's case precocious talent was not so fatal as it is apt to prove, but his circumstances were peculiar, ensuring him constant instruction from his infancy, instruction which he supplemented by becoming the pupil of Haydon, when Landseer applied himself with great energy and industry to profit by his master's lessons, one of which was, aptly enough, that of dissecting a dead lion, and enthusiastically mastering its anatomy. Neither is it beyond contra- diction, that the great animal painter, with all his power and ability, may not have been injured, rather than lastingly benefited, by success too early won. In 1826, as soon as he had attained the prescribed age of twentj four years, Land- seer was elected an associate of the Royal Academy ; four years later he became an Academician. From the date of a visit to the Highlands in 1826 he is said to have thrown aside his carefully and minutely finished work for the bold and free style in wliich he has continued to win laurels for fully forty years. With his early visit to the Highlands also may be connected his preference for deer as the subjects of his pencil, evinced not only in his fiimous Children of the Mist, Seeking Sanctuary, Night, and Morning, but in innumerable examples of mountain scenery, peopled by the deni- zens of the old forests. Along with deer Landseer has "possessed " horses and dogs to the fullest extent. In a lower, though still in a high degree, he has established his mastery over the other forms of animal life, wit'^^^'^s his picture Caught.* Landseer has, in addition, an established reputation as a figure painter, three of his most popular works being A Dialogue at Waterloo (the Duke of Wellington point- ing out the scene of the incidents of the battle to the Marchioness of Douro), Bolton Abbey in the Olden Time, and the Return from Hunting. * See Steel Engraving. 176 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. Landsecr, who received much favour from the Queen, painted in fresco Comtts, for the Queen's summer-house. His 'life-size chalk drawings are well known. In con- junction with Baron Marochctti, he originated the lions in Trafalgar Square. Landseer received the honour of knigiithood from the Queen in 1850. At the French Exhibition of 1855 he was awarded the only large gold medal given to an English painter. He died in 1875. Clarkson Stankield was born in 1798 at Sunderland. He was brought up to a sea- faring life, and on board ship met Douglas Jerndd, who got up plays for the sailors after the fashion of his father, the manager of the theatre at Deptford. For the young sailor Jerrold's plays, the other young sailor, Stanfield, painted the scenes. Years after, the amateur play-writer and scene-painter met as eminent professional dramatist and scene-painter at Di.iry Lane. Eventually Stanfield left scei -ivn'nting, which he brought to great perfection, to become a landscape and marine 'ya . f no mean merit. His first large picture. Wreckers off Fort Rouge, was e.xhib.b. \t the British Institution in 1827, the same year that he exhibited A Calm at the Royal Academy. Stanfield was then in his thirtieth year. He was elected an associate of the Academy five years later, in 1832, and three years later, in 1835, he became a full member. Stanfield visited the continent frequently, and showed that he could not only paint land as well as water, but land so varied as that presented by the low banks of Dutch canals in their monotony — still gloriously picturesque, by the shores of the Mediterranean, and by the sunny champagne country of France. The painter was commissioned in 1830 to paint a series of large pictures for the Marquis of Lans- downe's banqueting- room at Rowood, and in 1834 he had an order from the Duchess of Sutherland to paint a series of views in Venice to be hung at Trentuam. A series of forty views in the British Channel and on the coast of France, called Stanjield's Coast-scenery, was engraved. Stanfield, as well as Maclise and the great actor Macready, formed a trio that Foster's Life of Dickens has shown to the world as intimately associated with the novelist in his happiest years. Stanfield died in 1867, at the age of sixty-nine years. Among Stanfield's most famous pictures are the Abandoned, the Battle of Tra- falgar, painted for the United Service Club ; the Castle of Ischia, one of the three pictures sent by him to the I'Vench Exhibition of 1855 ; and the Victory towed into Gibraltar after the Battle of Trafalgar, painted for Sir S. Morton Pcto. As an example of the price given for Stanfield's pictures, Ottley quotes tliat his Beilstein on the Moselle was sold, in 1863, for 57, 500. and his Castle of Ischia, in 1865, for ;S6,250. The National Gallery, London, has four Stanfields, partly marine pictures, partly landscapes. Pavid Robert-S was born in 1796, at Stockbridgc, Edinburgh. Roberts, whose family were in humble circumstances, had the fair education of a Scotch lad, and was then apprenticed to a decorator and house painter for seven years. He completed his apprenticeship, showing marked ability, and immediately joined a company of strolling players, having arranged with them to be scene painter. Beyond what he had learnt in house-painting, he had not received a regular lesson in art since he had \ HUNT. ^77 left the Trustees' Academy. One unfortunate consequence of Roberts' connection with the stroUing players was his marriage with one of the troop, which proved an unsuitable, unhappy connection. In 1820, when Roberts was twenty-four years of age, he had risen so far in his profession as to be engaged in scene-painting for the Glasgow and Edinburgh thea- tres. A little later he found employment at Drury Lane, of which, in 1822, he was appointed scene-painter. He exhibited for the first time in the Royal Academy in 1826, when he was in his thirty-first year, A View of Rouen Cathedral. Roberts' love for architecture never wavered, and in order to gratify it and perfect himself in the art in which he was fast rising, he travelled and drew in France, Belgium, Germany, Spain, Morocco, and Holland. In 1838, when Roberts was forty-t'vo years of age, he was elected an associate of the Academy. The same year, unencumbered as he was with family ties, save in the person of one daughter, aiiu having, but for her, a solitary hearth, since he had early separated from his wife, Roberts set out on more distant expeditions to Egypt and Syria. On his way through Constantinople he painted the Church of St. Sophia* a fine interior. His diligence and devotion in making a large number of fine sketches requiring the utmost care and pains, under every disadvantage of climate and circumstance, deserved and obtained great praise. In 184 1 he was elected an Aca- demician. He died in 1864. William Henry Hunt was born in 1790 at Belton Street, Long Acre, London, in a labyrinth of wretched alleys not for from the birth-place of Turner. His father was a tin-plate worker, and it was only the son's sickliness which induced the father to consent to young Hunt, at si.xteen, renouncing the learning of a profitable trade, for art, by becoming an apprentice for a term of seven years to Varley the water- colour painter. At Varley's Hunt met Mulready, who advised the lad to become a student of the Royal Academy, where he had a fellow-pupil and friend in Linncl, the well-known landscape painter. While Hunt was in hi;, apprenticeship he was introduced to Dr. Munro, one of the king's physicians, and an enthusiastic lover and patron of art, at whose country house, at Bushy, Hunt met Turner, Bridge, Hcarnc, and the doctor's son, a young artist (the three last of whom are buried side by side in Bushy church- yard). Hunt visited Dr. Munro at his town house in the Adelphi, and would stay for a month at a time at Bushy, contributing to Dr. Munro's portfolio at the rate of $1.87 a day. While in the neighborhood of Bushy sketching. Hunt encountered the Earl of Essex, and was commissioned to take views in the park and grounds of Cashiobury. Hunt's first picture exhibited at the Royal Academy was A Scene near Honnslozv, in 1807, when he was seventeen years of age. He continued to exhibit at the Royal Academy's Exhibition, his progress in life being marked by the successive changes of his adi.;._ss from his master Varley's, back to his father's house, then to Brownlow Street, Drury Lane, and Marchmont Street, Brunswick Square, till he settled, on * Sec Illustration. 178 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. account of his health, at Hastings. He was connected with the " Society of Painters in Water-colours " from its establishment, and was elected one of its associate mem- bers in 1824, when he was thirty-four years of age, becoming a full member three years later. It is said of Hunt, that " from the beginning he painted with all his might, sketch- ing loyally what he saw, making portraits of everything he selected as worth painting, and selecting wisely." Hunt was fond of rustic life and common familiar things, but treated the homeliest object with a delicate perception of its merits which removed it from vulgarity. Among his subjects are The Attack, a country boy about to feast on a huge pie, The Defeat, the same lad overcome with sleep when the feast is ended, and The Brown Study, a mulatto boy struggling to overcome a sum in addition. Hunt's fruit and flowers were wonders of loving fidelity and exquisite colour. Of his Study of Hyaeintlis, " he boasted that each of its leaves was a portrait," yet nothing of the kind can be less formal or more idealized into perfection than those flowers. His Plums formed another triumph. Still finer were his Study of Gold — a smoked Pil- chard; his Study of Rose-grey — a mushroom, and his Dead Huinining- Bird, of which it is said that " it glows with turquoise, blue, green, and gold, and even from the farthest side of the room sparkles marvellously." When eleven of the painu>r'- wc > ;:s were shown in the Great Paris Exhibition of 1855, the French painters hailed them with delighted acclamation. He died in 1864. Erskine Nicol, was born at Leith in 1825, received his art-education at the Trustees' Academy, Edinburgh, under the direction of Sir William Allan and Mr. T. Duncan. In 1846 he went to Ireland, where he resided three or four years, returned to Edinburgh, and after exhibiting for some time in that city, was elected a member of the Royal Scottish Academy. In 1862 he settled in London. Among his most popular pictures (all relating to Irish subjects) may be mentioned. Did it Pout with its Betsy? Reneival of the Lease Refused, exhibited in 1863; Among the Old Masters, und Waiting for the Train, m 1864; and A Deputation in 1865. At the Winter E.xhibition of the Institute of Painters in Water-colours, Mr. Nicol has exhibited Caught, Rent-Paying, Kept in, * Both Puzzled, Missed It, etc. Mr. Nicol was elected A.R.A. in June, 1866. He has since then painted Steady Johnny, the landing of a fine salmon, "Johnny" handling the landing net. George Lance was born in 1802 at the old manor-house of Little Easton, in Essex. His father had been an officer in a regiment of light horse, and was afterwards an adjutint in the Essex Yeomanry, and an inspector of the horse patrol, which rid the great roads of their footpads. George Lance was sent to Leeds to be a manu'acturer, but on his own urgent entreaty, was allowed to give up the attempt, and going to London he became a pupil of Haydon's. Mr. Redgrave tells the story that Lance had visited the British Museum, and, seeing a lad drawing from the Elgin marbles, with the words written on his copy " Pupil of Haydon," inquired eagerly whether Haydon would take other pupils. He was conducted by the lad, a brother of Sir Edwin Landscer's, to the * Sec Steel Engraving. 1 COLLINS. 179 painter. On the new comer's making a modest statement of his wish, with a hesita- ting inquiry as to terms, Haydon, with the impulsiveness — half generosity, half bluster, which was so much a part of him, exclaimed — "Terms, my little fellow! when I take pupils I never look at the fathers' purses. Bring me some of your work, and if I think they promise success I will take you for nothing." Haydon did become the master of Lance, and in Haydon's studio, and as a student of the Royal Academy, he learnt what could be learnt of art. But the high art which Haydon taught was not congenial to his young pupil, and by a happy accident he found a more suitable field for his gift. Having been sent to paint some still life to improve his skill, the work was admired and bought by Sir George Beau- mont, and commissions for the same description of work followed from the Earl of Shaftesbury and the Duke of Bedford. (For the Duke of Bedford Lance painted afterwards a great fruit piece to adorn a summer-house at Woburn, on the occasion of the visit of William IV.) Lance became a painter of still life, and as such he was famous, not merely for his. fruit and flowers, bait for the adjuncts of glass, plate, and draperies, while his dead game were even more valued. Mr. Redgrave mentions two pictures by Lance, out of his usual course, which gave indication of a capacity for higher walks of art — Mdanrthoiis first misgivings of Route, and the Seneschal. George Lance died m the neighbourhood of Birkenhead in 1864. at the age of sixty-two years. He has left a daughter who paints in her father's style. William Collins, the charming interpreter of English rural and seaside life, was born in London of Irish parents on the i8th of September, 1787. He learned the first principles of art in the studio of George Morland — one of the earliest English painters who chose his subjects from the home life of the lower classes of his native land — whose influence is very distinctly noticeable in the works of his pupil. In 1807, young Collins entered the Royal Academy schools, and exhibited two fine landscapes ; but compelled to earn his living by portrait painting, he did not follow them up with anything of a similar character until 18 10, when, having saved money, he was able to choose his own subjects. He then produced a series of scenes of out- door life, such as Children Bird's- Nesting, or Szvinging on the Gate,* Prawn Fisheries, Shrimpers, Fishermen on the look-out, treated in a simple, life-like and effective manner which elicited high praise from the art critics of the day. In 1820, Collins was elected a Royal Academician, and until 1836 was a continual exhibitor of subjects similar to those which he had made his reputation. Unfortu- nately for his art, he then went to Italy with a view of improving his style, and enlarg- ing his experience. After two years of travel he returned home full of enthusiasm for the beauties of Italian scenery, and Italian peasantry ; and discontented with what now seemed the " humdrum " simplicity of every-day English life, he tried a higher style, and produced Italian landscapes, such as the Cave of Ulysses, and the Bay of NapleSy following them up with the yet more ambitious subjects, Christ in the Temple with the Doctors, and the Tivo Disciples at Emmaits ; these subjects were not very *See Steel Engraving. i8o THE TABLE BOOK OE ART. successful, and with true" wisdom the ambitious artist returned to his first style, and remained faithful to it until his death, which took place in Devonport Street, llytle Park Gardens, on the i8th of February, 1747. William IIoi.man Hunt was born, in 1827, in London. He was a student of the Ro)al Academy. 1 lis first exhibited picture was in the Royal Academy's Exhi- bition of 1845, when he was nineteen years of age. Three or four years later, about 1850, he took his stand as a Pnuraphaelite in iiis Converted British Fatiiily slultcriiig a Christian Missiomvy from the pcrsccntion of the Dmids. His most famous l)ictures since have been, in 1854, his Light of the IVor/d (a noble allegory, in which the Saviour stands, lantern in hiuul, at a closed door, under a star-lit sky); in 1856, after the painter's visit to the East, The Seape-(Joiit, another pathetic allegory as road by the light of the Old Testament law; and in i860, when the painter was in his thirty-fourth year, after four years' study and labour, Christ diseo^'ered in the T inp!e, which thousands flocked to see, not only in London but in every town where it was exhibited, for the public's verdict on it was, that whatever its imperfections, it w.is the one modern English picture which thrilled the spectators as with a glimpse of the divine. Among Holman Hunt's pictures of lower import are his IJireling Shepherd, Az>.s, with all its splendid handling and colouring, especially in the flesh tints, is but the representation of three fair English women (Misses Armstrong) playing whist with a dummy. GEORCiK Frkoerick Watts was born in 18 18 in London, and he first exhibited in 1837, when he was in his twentieth year. He began his career in art as a his- torical painter. During the sitting of the commission for the decoration of the new Houses of Parliament, Watts, in 1843, when he was twenty-five years of age, sent in cartoon of Caractacus to the competition proposed by the commissioners, and got a $1,500 prize. In the subsequent competition he gained one of the first-class prizes of $2,500 for his cartoon o{ Alfred inciting the Saxons to Jlfaritime Enterprise; and he was commissioned to paint St. George and the Dragon for the Houses of Parliament. He painted also a large fresco "illustrative of the History of Justice," in the New Hall of Lincoln's Inn. But it is by his mythological and ideal subjects, and above all by his portraits, that the painter has won a great name among his brother artists and in the outer world. His Daphne has been pronounced "perfectly admirable;" his Diana and Endyvdon worthy of his Daphne; his Study with the Peacock's feathers of " extraordi- nary merit and beauty." Watts' portraits include those of Mr. Tennyson, Sir John Lawrence, the Hon. W. M Gladstone, but whether of distinguished men, or of men and women utterly unknown to the world, these portraits stand out in " strong relief" from the jiortraits by the painter's contemporaries, redeeming portrait painting from the charge of decline in our days. "Classic." "thoughtful," "power*"!;, ' "rich," " luminous," full of "character and expression," "'ery tender and beautiiui ' m the painting, are terms exhausting the vocabulary of art, applied by critics to the qualities in Watts' portraits. Frkdkrick Tavler, born in London, 1804, has been famous as a successful water-colour painter for near'- half a century. In the ICnglish section of the Fine Art Gallery at Philadelphia, in 1876, Ik; exhibited a beautiful high-class painting, Crossing the Ferry, which won universal iif -1!- i I I83 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. admiration. Wo have illustrated one of his oil paintin'^s, which appeared first forty years since, The Young Chiefs First Riih* Fkedekick LEinirroN was born in 1830 at Scarboroiigli. He was taken abroad in liis childhood, and was broufjlit to Rome, wliere he received lessons in drawin^^ from an Italian painter, in his thirteenth and fourteenth years. In his fifteenth year he became a student of the Royal Academy, Berlin, studying in the following years at Florence, Frankfort-on-the Main, Brussels, and Paris, and again at Frankfort, where he worked under Steinle, a pupil of Overbeck's. Finally he resided several .seasons in Rome, where he painted his picture Ciinabiic's Madonna carried through Florence, described in the catalogue thus : — " Cimabue's celebrated Madonna is carried in pro- cession through the streets of Florence. In front of the Madonna, and crowned with laurels, walks Cimabue himself with his pupil Giotto ; behind it Arnofo di Lappo, Gaddo Gaddi, Andrea Tafi, Nicolo Pisano, Buffalmacco, and Simone Memmi ; in the corner, Dante." This picture was exhibited at the Royal Academy's Kxhibition, London, in 1855, when Lcighton was twenty-five years of age. The effect of such a picture, painted by a young man of twenty-five, whom Mr. Rossetti calls "a born artist," and who was full of the learning of the foreign schools, while he was unknown in England, was naturally great. The picture was at once bought by the Queen. Lcighton returned to Paris, and remained there for four years, profiting by the counsels of Ary Scheffer and Robert-Fleury. Eventually Lcighton settled in Lon- don, where he had exhibited in 1856 his Triumpli of Music — Orpheus playing his viol in the gloomy regions of Pluto, for the purpose of winning back Eurydice to earth. Other pictures of Leighton are, a Reminiscence of Algiers, Paris on his ivedding morn- ing finds fuliet apparently lifeless, The Star of Bethlehem, (one of the Magi from the terrace of his house stands looking at the .star in the East ; the lower part of the pic- ture indicates a revel which he may be supposed to have just left); Michael Angela nursing his dying serrant, Helen of Troy and Dante in Exile. William Powell Frith is as unlike Leighton, as one artist can be unlike another. Frith was born in 1 8 19, near Ripon, Yorkshire. He learned drawing in the art school at Bloomsbury, presided over by Mr. Sass, several of who.se pupils have become eminent painters. Frith was a student of the Royal Academy, in 1837, when he was eighteen years of age. Two years later he first exhibited a picture, that of the head of one of Mr. Sass's children, at the British Institution. In 1840, when the painter was twenty-one years of age, he exhibited at the Royal Academy his pic- ture oi Malvolio before the Countess Olivia, which attracted much notice. In 1845, when P'rith was twenty-six years of age, his Village Pastor, from Tlie Deserted Village, was still more admired, and gained the painter his election as an associate member of the Academy. At this time he seemed to be walking in the foot- .stcps of Leslie, and painted in succession such pictures as The Parting Intcii'ieiv of Leicester and the Countess Amy, Measuring Heights, from the Vicar of Wakefield, An English Merry-making a hundred years ago, The Coming of Age, Pope making loi>c to * See Steel Engraving. \ \ TADEMA. 183 Lady Mary Worthy Montagu, and The Beau's Stra/agew* In 1853, when he was thirty-four years of age, Frith was elected a Royal Academician. 1 the following year Frith struck on the vein of the familiar humours of a great Englisn crowd, in which he may be said to walk alone, for Hogarth's election crowds had strict unity among dramatic episodes, in stories — the morals of which were one of their strongest points. Frith's Life at t/ie Sea-side, Rainsgate, was but a lively ver- sion of a huge cockney, rather than motley, gathering, of which he made, with the greatest skill, all that could be made. The picture of the good citizens of London taking their annual holiday was warmly welcon.ed, and was bought by the Queen. Frith's Derby Day, belonging to 1858, was a vivid realization of a great popular spec- tacle, executed with wonderful fidelity and niceness of finish. It became at once very popular, and was the picture of the year, " in the same sense," Mr. Rossetti observes, " as the Derby Day is the event of the year to sight-seers and people in search of amusement." The painter, with occasional deviations, followed up his advantage by a large picture, which involved two years' labour, and was completed in 1862, The Raikvay Station. It was commissioned for the joint purpose of exhibition and engraving by a well-known picture-dealer, who, according to a report quoted by Mr. Rossetti, gave the painter as the price of his work, ;^46,ooo, and we find in Ottiey that the dealer was no loser by the tran.=action, since he re-sold the picture with his list of sub- scribers for the engraving, for gSo.ooo. Another large painting of Frith's, and on this occasion with, perhaps, more of Hogarthian motive in its throng of figures, was his Honiburg. The painter had from her Majesty a commission to paint the Marriage of the Prince of Wales, receiving for the picture ;^ 15,000, and for the sale of the copyright to a dealer |>2 5,000. Alma Tadema, a native of Friesland, while still giving the address, Rue de Palais, Brussels, exhibited in the Royal Academy's Exhibition, 1870, three small pictures : Un Interieur roinain, Un Amateur remain (empire), and Un Jongleur, which imme- diately drew the attention of the artists to the unknown foreign painter by magnificent points in the painting of the pictures. At the Academy's Exhibition of 1872, the painter, already settled in London, exhibited two pictures : A Roman Emperor and Grand Chamberlain to his Majesty Sesostris the Great. The first of these was sufficient to establish a reputation. The Roman Emperor was Claudius hidden behind the curtain, and found by the Prretorian guards, when, having murdered Caligula and his family, the soldiers rush back the next day, to discover if any member of the Imperial family survive, in order to drag him away and proclaim him emperor. The ghastli- ness of the situation, with the grandeur and liumptuousncss of the surroundings (surely the painter had learnt a lesson in the school of the French painter Gerome), the thrill of power conveyed by the whole picture, the depth and richness of the colouring, with the careful learned finish of details, could not fail to make a deep impression. * See Steel Engraving. i!! 1 84 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. Thomas Faed was born in 1826, at Burlcy Mill, Kircudbriglitshire, Scotland. His father was an engineer and mill-wright. Thomas Facd's elder brother, John, was a painter of fair repute in Edinburgh, able to offer a home to his younger brother while he studied in the School of Design under Sir W. Allan. In 1849, when he was twenty-three years of age, Faed had become an associate of the Royal Scottish Academy, and exhibited the picture of Scott and his Friends at Abbotsford, which was afterwards engraved. At the same time he painted for Sir Walter Scott /ca/iic Deans and the Ditkc of Argyle^ '>^\x%tx^tS.\'Q. oi ''TXxii. Heart of Mid-Lothian." Three years later he settled in London. In 1855 Faed exhibited his Alitherless Bairn, the first of his rustic scenes which attracted much attention. The picture was condemned by Mr. Ruskin as " common- place Wilkieism," yet made its mark in the line which the painter has since followed somewhat monotonously, but with the decided encouragement of the public, since his Sunday in the Back Woods wa:; bought by the late Mr. Holdsworth for $4,500, and re-sold for $6,600. Faed was elected an associate of the Royal Academy in 1861, when he was thirty-five years of age. One of Faed's best pictures is From Dawn to Sunset, the death-bed of an aged peasant, whose gaunt hand is stretched out on the counterpane ; by the bed sits the son, a middle-aged care-worn labouring man; around him are another generation of children of various ages, from the unconscious infant in its mother's arms, to the eager half-awed " haflins" arriving from school, and bringing with them the medicine, which comes too late. The picture, which is honestly and harmoniously painted, is full of homely pathos and solemn simple feeling. Sir J. Noel Patom was born in 1823 at Dunfermline, Fifeshire, Scotland. His father was a pattern designer, anil was his son's early teacher. The painter was afterwards a student, first of the Royal Scottish Academy, and afterwards of the Royal Academy, London. At the Westminster Hall competition of cartoons so often alluded to, Noel Paton's cartoon. The Spirit of Re/it^ion, gained a $1,000 prize in 1845, when he was twenty-two years of age ; and two years later his oil painting of the Reconciliation of Oberon and Titania — in which, besides the king and queen, a multitude of tiny figures float in air, dive into flower-cups, nestle "Under the blossom which hangs from the bough" — won one of the ;Sl,5oo prizes. The painter lingered in (airy-land not only in his companion picture of the Quarrel of Oberon and Ti:ania, painted in 1849, and bought (and put in the Scottish National Gallery, Fxlinburgh) by the Scottish Academy for $3,500, but in his Thomas the Rhymer and the Queen of Fairyland, his Nicker the So'dA:,^, &c., &c. Noel Paton's most approved pictures have, probably, Seen In Afemoria/n, an episode of the Indian war, where a group of fugitives taking refuge in a cellar, by a desperate impulse gather round one brave woman at the crisis when cither their foes or their deliverers arc heard approaching ; and his Home from the Crimea, where a *^Sec Illustration, HOOK. 185 weary wounded soldier has returned from the wars, and is welcomed by his young wife and aged mother. The picture, of which the engraving must be familiar to many, was bought by the Queen. Noel Paton was knighted in 1867. Like not a few of his artist brethren, the painter has sought to be a poet also, and has published poems. Sir Noel Paton's brother is a landscape painter of some reputation, while his sister, Mrs. D. O. Hill, has mastered great difficulties in becoming a sculptor in established practice. Sir GiioiiGE H.VRVEY was born in 1806, at St. Ninian's, Stirlingshire. Ho was apprenticed to a bookseller, when he spent all his spare time in drawing. He entered the Trustees' Academy, Edinburgh, as a .student, when he was eighteen years of age, in 1824, and made rapid progress in art. He became an associate of the Scottish Academy at its foundation two years later, in 1826, and a full member in 1829, when he was twenty -three years of age. He was President of the Scottioh Academy until his death, which occurred a year or two ago. Harvey's paintings were from the first popular in Scotland, while their extreme sobriety gave them a cold effect in English eyes, delaying and limiting his popularity in England. His subjects, too, have been more akin to Scottish than to ICnglish taste, having been largely taken from the histories of the Covenanters and the Puritans. But through every obstacle, those who look for the qualities, see in .le painter's pictures manly earnestness and thoughtfulness, and true poetic feeling well if gravely expressed. His Covenanters Preaeliing, Bunyan with his blind daughter selling laces at the door of Bedford Gaol, Battle of Dnonclog, First reading of the Bible in the Crypt of St. Pants, and Highland Frneral, are among his best pictures. James Clarke Hook: was born in 18 19, in London. His father was a judge at Sierra Leone, and his mother a daughter of Dr. Clarke, the Bible Commentator. Hook entered the Royal Academy in 1836, when he was seventeen years of age, and gained medals in the schools. Having wu, :he gold medal by his picture of The Finding of the Body of Harold, Hook tried historical painting. In 1846, when Hook was twenty-seven years of age, he got the Academy's three years' travelling pension, and started for Italy, but he did not remain the allotted term abroad. He returned to England, resigning half the pension. Hook was elected an associate of the Academy, in 1850, when he was thirty years of age; ten years later he became an Academician. From 1850 Hook has practised painting scenes from country, and especially from coast life, in Cornwall, the latter in his hands inexpressibly fresh and life-like, as well as skilful. His Coast-Boy Gathering Fggs, his Lnff-Boy, which Mr. Ruskin pro- nounced "a glorious jjicturc, most glorious," and which created a wonderful sen.sa- tion; and since them \\\% folly as a Sand Boy, his Oyster " se^'erals" of Hampshire, ixwd his Betzveen Tides, are enough to remind us ^hat the British are islanders by birth, and that the sea being part of their inheritance, they awake to claim it, when they are presented with such a remindjr of its restless waves and breezy skies as Hook can offer. John Lixnel, whose landscape of Snnshine* we engrave, is the vet'.-ran head of * See Illustration. i86 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. a family of painters. He was born in 1792, in London. He was a pupil of Benjamin West's, and of Varley's, and a fellow-pupil of William Hunt's. He began in his pro- fession by being a portrait and miniature painter, and by practising engraving, but {gradually devoted his attention to landscape painting, in which ho has won so honourable a name. He first exhibited a picture in the Royal Academy in 1807, when he was but fifteen years of age. The following year he gained the Royal Academy's premium of $2^0 in a competition with Chalon. John Linnel's sons, J. T. Linnel, T. G. Linnel, and W. Linnel, have inherited largely their father's gifts, and the name of Linnel, in connection with landscape painting, is not likely to die out in England. The merits of the Linncls are said to be breadth of treatment, along with fiiithful study of nature, power over atmospheric effects, and great feeling for colouring. The fault found with the artists is too uniform a preference for " warm glowing atmospheres," with an occasional tendency to exaggeration in colouring. But the results of these labours in English landscape are very delightful — above all to English eyes, in such pictures as the famous Barley Harvest, The Timber Waggon, Under the Hawthorn, At Work in the Wood, Haying and Playing. One is glad to think that the appreciation of such art is general, and that the painters meet their reward — not only in its higher, but in its lower form, of ample prices. John Frederick Lewis was born in 1805, in London. His father was a line- engraver, and gave his son lessons in painting. At fifteen, Lewis exhibited at the British Institution his first picture, which found a purchaser. Two years afterwards, in 1822, the painter exhibited a large picture of Deer Shooting at Bellius, Essex, and the following year he was commissioned by George IV. to paint scenes in Windsor Forest, which he exhibited together with portraits of the King's keepers. About this time Lewis forsook painting in oils for painting in water-colours, and in 1828, when he was twenty- three years of age, he was elected a member of the Water-colour Society. In the course of the next four or five years, Lewis travelled in Germany, Northern Italy, Spain, and the Mediterranean. In his foreign travel he developed the elaborately fine finish which he has given to his art. From 1834 to 1837, when he was about thiity years of age, he exhibited Spanish subjects, some of which — including the Al- hambra series, he published in lithography. Returning to Italy, and proceeding to Rome, Lewis made the sketch which resulted in a " gorgeously executed " picture of Easter Day at Rome, the Pope Blessing the People, exhibited in 184 1. In the meantime Lewis had gone to Turkey, Egypt, and Asia Minor, not return- ing to England till ten years later, in 185 1. He then exhibited his Harem, one of his most famous pictures, followed in succeeding years by similar pictures : An Arab Scribe,* The Halt in the Desert, A Frank in the Desert of Mount Sinai. The last picture was exhibited in 1856, when Lewis was fifty-one years of uge. In 1855, Lewis was elected President of the Society of Painters in Water-colours, *Sec Illustration. irs, >< Q I o «^ ^ H O ifu! it CR U IKS HA NK. 187 an office which he resigned in anticipation of his election, as an associate of the Royal Academy, in 1859, when he was in his fifty-fifth year. Burton and Fripp, and other painters — whether of figures or landscapes— in water-colours, have established reputations, though scarcely equal to those of their pre- decessors, David Cox and W. Hunt. Henrietta Ward is the wife of E. M. Ward, R.A., the genre and historical painter ; the daughter of George Raphael Ward, the engraver ; and the grand-daughter of James Ward, R.A., the cattle painter. Indeed, her extensive art-connections do not end there, for her uncle was Jackson the painter, her grand-uncle was William Ward, the engraver, and her grand-aunts were respectively George Morland the painter's sister and his v. ife. After all, the old artist families have not ceased to exist. George Cruikshank was born in 1792, in Bloomsbury, London. He was the son of a caricaturist, a contemporary of the famous caricaturist Gilroy. After relin- quishing an early desire for a sea-faring life, and after being disappointed in an endea- vour to enter the Royal Academy as a student, George Cruikshank, on the death of his father, took his unfinished blocks and manfully resolved to do his best to support his mother, by becoming in turn a designer and engraver. George Cruikshank's first caricatures were almost all political satire, and it is said that to inspect them — in order, as they have been exhibited, is to walk through a curious gallery of ancient political squibs. Lampoons on the Fashions, always ex- aggerated and often offensive, formed the next division of the old art of caricature. George Cruikshank's best work is said by Rossetti to have been done in the twenty years between 1825 and 1845 — when he was in the prime of life, and to include parti- cularly the etchings for Grimm's Goblins, Bos Sketches, Oliver Twist, Jack Shepherd, and The Toiver of London. The miserable fate of an early friend is believed to have first roused in George Cruikshank the extreme antagonism towards every form of drunkenness, which ended in his becoming a convert to the Total Abstinence movement, and to his lending to the movement the energetic support of his power as an artist. About 1842, Cruik- shank, then a man of fifty years of age, probably with Hogarth's example in his mind, published a scries of eight prints called The Bottle, which, with the addition of Sunday in I^ondon, The Gin Trap, and the Gin Juggernaut, were meant to show the terrible effects of strong drink. After he was well advanced in life George Cruikshank began to paint in oil, exhibiting both at the Royal Academy and the British Institution genre pictures, among them Tarn O'Shanter, Titania and Bottout the Weaver, Cinderella, Grimaldi Shaving, Disturbing the Congregation, — the last was bought by the late Prince Con- sort. Finally, Cruikshank labored for three years at a huge picture, thirteen feet four, by seven feet eight, and containing within its bounds eight hundred figures, called The Worship of Bacchus, and intended to be an embodiment of his fervently held dogma of Total Abstinence. The picture was painted, indeed, for the Temperance League, to serve as a text for their discourses. Its moral is that the British drink, always and everywhere, and that none can foresee what may be the end of the habit — i88 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. even of moderate clrinkiiijr. Rossctti writes, with justice in the name of those who differ in view from George Criiikshanl<, tluit " the man who in liis old aye occupies himself for nearly three years in painting this homily upon canvas, to the most nega- tive of results in point of art, deserves respect." Cruikshank's deficient education in art, unremedied by his efforts when far in life, renders his pictures very defective. Particular faults attributed to him even as a designer, are " want of drawing of the human figure, which he is apt to treat with the caricaturist's free-and-easy license, limp limbs and vapid old-fashioned faces," and the tendency to exaggeration and burlesque, that constitutes him a caricaturist rather than a humourist. Hut as a caricaturist he has many and great merits — a wide knowledge of human nature, and a lively feeling alike for the terrible and the gro- tesque, with an inexhaustible fertility of invention. Over the tools employed in etching, George Cruikshank is said to have possessed great skill. He died in 1878. John Leech was born in 1817. His father kept for many years the London Coffee Mouse, in Ludgate Hill. Young Leech was educated at the Charter House, and became a student in the Royal Academy. He exhibited several genre pictures, which did not attract attention. Some sketches of character in " Bell's Life in Lon- don," were the first of Leech's work which gave promise of genius. His sketches in " Punch," on which his fame rests, were begun in 1847, when Leech was in his thirty- first year, and were continued for eighteen years. In these sketches Leech proved himself a great humourist, who never passed the boundary between humour and caricature. If his satire were less triumphant than Cruikshank's, it was far broader, while it was more refined. Nothing was more characteristic of Leech, and nothing was more enjoyable in his work, than the evident genial .sympathy with which he entered into every phase of the many-sided English life of the hunting-field, the sea-side, the ball-room, the drawing-room, the nursery; while he faithfully represented — not without a touch of idealism, for he had, what may well belong to a humourist, but what scarcely finds place in a caricaturist, a mie feeling for beauty — the grace as well as the fresh charm of high-bred English girls, who were never better given than by Leech, so that in the immense circulation of " Punch," Leech must have raised the standard of Englishwomen's beauty in the minds of foreigners. John Leech had also a fine appreciation of English scenery, — and in tho.se bits of it which he intro- duced into his sketches, he did it full justice, while he elevated, by their artistic com- pleteness, the character of the sketches. Thomas Allom. Among the architectural and landscape painters Thomas AUom ranks very high. Born in London in 1804, he was educated at Oxford, and after studying as an architect he came before the notice of the public in 1836, in the Academy Exhibition, with a series of water-colour landscapes which earned great praise. He sold his sketches readily to the publishers, who at that time employed talent like his very liberally. He was of the same school as Prout, Bartlett, Turner, Stanfield, Creswick, Roberts, and Brockden — a school which seems to have nearly passed away. We illustrate one of his best pictures, ConsUxntinoplc from the Golden Horn* * Sec Steel Engraving. STONE. 189 Frederick Walker, one of the best of modern English subject painters, was born in London on tlic 24th of May, 1840. On leaving school he passed a short time in the office of an architect and survej'or, and then, feeling that art was his true vocation, entered as a student at Leigh's night-classes in Newman Street. Walker also occasionally studied in the Royal Academy schools. He first appeared as a book illustrator, for the " Cornhill Magazine," executing the pictures for Mr. Thack- eray's " Philip and his Adventures on his way through the World," which received much praise. When but twenty- four years of age Walker was elected a member of the Old Water-colour Society, and subsequently became an Associate of the Royal Academy. He was a constant exhibitor at both institutions for a few years. To the great regret of the art world, this promising young artist died suddenly at St. Fildan's, Perthshire, in June 1875, before he had reached either the prime of his life or the summit of his art. He was buried in Cookham churchyard. Birket Foster, born at Manchester, 1825, ranks very high as an English painter both in oil and water-colour. He has been before the public prominently for the last fifteen years, and is well known in America from chromos of his water-colour works, notably The Primrose Bank, English Labourer's Cottage, The Convalescent, and The Race up the Hill* There is a freshness and reality in his execution which a^^'- t the eye and heart at once. Foster is of Quaker descent, and is a great favourite among the " Friends." William John MIjller, the son of a German father, was born at Bristol in 1812. He studied landscape painting under J. B. Payne and more especially from nature. In 1833 he started on a journey through Germany, Switzerland, and Italy, and returning to Bath in the following year, established himself there as a landscape painter, but met with little success. In 1838 he went to Greece and Egypt, and returning to England in the following year, after a short sojourn in his native place, settled in London. In 185 1, Miiller again started on his travels when he accompanied Sir Charles I'ellowes to Lycia. From the sketches he made on this journey, Miiller painted several of his best works: the Burial-ground, Smyrna, eshxhiicd in the Academy in i?i^^; Land- scape witli tivo Lycian Peasants — engraved by Cousins, and now in the National Gal- lery — and others, exhibited at the Royal Academy and British Institution. Muller died in 1845 at Bristol, whither he had retired on perceiving signs of declining health. Frank Stone, who was bcin at Manchester in 1800, was his own instructor in art. When thirty-one years of age he came to London, and at first painted in water- colour, but he finally abandoned that method in favour of oil. His pictures are some- times portraits, sometimes scenes of domestic life, and occasionally historical pieces. In 1840 appeared the lugend of AFontrose, t\\cn came the L^ast Appeal, painted in 1843, and The Course of True Loi'C never did run smooth, in the following year. Some time after he exhibited his homely and humourous Impending Mate and Mated — all well known by engravings. In 1851, Stone was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy, but he died in 1859, before he was elected to the honour of full membership. * See Illustration, IQO THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. Thomas Creswick — one of the most distinguished members of the modern English scliool of landscape painting, whose works rival, in knowledge of aerial per- spective and mastery of colour, those of Turner himself— was born at Sheffield in l8i I. At the age of seventeen he went to London to seek his fortune, and his paint- ings being readily accepted both by the Society of British Artists and by the Royal Academy, he made the capital his home, and enriched the exhibitions with scenes from Wales and Ireland. About the year 1840, he turned his attention to the beauties of the North of England, and produced some of his finest works — the quiet beauty of England inland scenery with its broad rivers, shady glens, and romantic dells, living again on his canvas. In 1842 Creswick was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy, and received a premium of 5250 for the general excellence of his productions. 1851 he be- came a full member of the Academy, and somewhat later painted several works in conjunction with his colleagues Frith and Ansdell, who gave life and animation to his pictures by the introduction of figures and cattle. Creswick died in December, 1869, at Linden Grove, Bayswater, after a long career of unceasing activity, and was buried in Kensal Green Cemetery. John Burr, born in Scotland in 1831, has been famous for some ten years by his humourous Wilkie-like treatment of home subjects. In 1866 appeared his Domestic Troubles, which at once secured him substantial notice ; and two years later he exhibited The Peddler* which was immediately purchased at a high price. Since then he has worked steadily, and his paintings are readily purchased. ^See Illustration. n CHAPTER VI. IHE AMERICAN SCHO OL. — WEST— COPLEY— STUAR T- ALLSTON— CHURCH— HUNTINGDON, &c., &c. HE last School of Painting which claims our attention, both from its high merit and its promise of future excellence, is that which, during the last hundred years, has sprung up in America. Beginning, as in England, with portrait painting, this school has progressed until it now numbers in its ranks many very excellent figure and land- scape painters. Their works are constantly taken to Europe to be exhibited, and are received with the greatest admiration. Year after year we hear of new men coming to the front, and there can be no doubt but that tlie late Centennial E.\hibition has done much to forward the true interests of Art throughout the land. We give a brief history of those painters who have, hitherto, been most dis- tinguished ; regretting that the plan of our book docs not permit us to include, at length, sketches of a great many living artists. Benjamin West was born at Springfield, in Pennsylvania, United Stitcs, in 1738. His family were descended from English settlers and farmers, and were Quakers by persuasion. Reared in a sect which abjured painting as a worldly and sensual art, the lad's promptings to the practice of painting had no outer aid, auu were pursued in spite of the remonstrances and admonitions of the Friends, though it does not seem that his father and mother opposed his exercise of the gift which he had received. It is said that some Indians, who had imparted to him the secrets of the mixture of their war paint, were his first teachers; to their red and yellow his mother added indigo, and his brush he made from hairs cut from the cat's back. A council of neighbour- ing Quakers, called together to decide on the question of young West's infringement of the rules of the sect, agreed wisely and reverently that God would not bestow fiicultics and forbid their employment, and gave West permission to follow his calling. Mr. Redgrave writes that " the women rose and kissed him, the men one by one laid their hands on his head, a solemn dedication which he never forgot." Having studied under a painter named Williams, West tried portrait painting, first in Philadelphia, and afterwards in New York, He was then but twenty years of 191 r 192 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. ' :i . age, and in his twenty-second year, 1760, his ambition and discretion led him to travel to Italy, where he studied for three years. His intention was to return to America, and merely to visit England on his way home, but on his arrival in London he found his prospects there so promising, that he sent for the young American girl to whom he was engaged, married, and settled with her in the old country, in his twenty-seventh year, 1765. The Archbishop of York presented West to the king, George III., who took a violent fancy to a young man, quiet, steady, and domestic, as the good king himself. George's not very intellectual or artistic taste imagined that he had discovered — with all the glory of the discovery — a great genius. The American war did not shake the king's fidelity to his protege. George III.'s almost entire patronage was thenceforth given to Benjamin West. The royal regard, thus exclusive, was viewed with lively indignation by many other painters, with claims to notice, but struggling for bread, while West was receiving from royal commissions, for a period of thirty years, sums at the rate of ;^5,ooo a year — then considered a large income to be derived from art. Neither was the king's exclusive patronage beneficial to Benjamin West himself as an artist, though as a man he remained the simple, unpretending, kindly ma.i he iiad come to England. He had soon renounced portrait painting for historical and reli- gious painting, and the constant demands made on his imagination, together with the absence of any stimulating competition or anxiety with regard to worldly success, and perhaps — unassuming man though he was — in consequence also of the constant sops administered by royal favour, to his self-satisfact-on. West's invention became wearisomely dull and tame. One of West's most striking pictures had been the Death of General Wolfe, a subject for which his nationality had qualified him particularly, and in which, among other accessory figures, he had introduced his old friends, the Red Indians, strange, picturesque beings to English eyes. He had also the enterprise and courage to break through all English artistic precedents prevailing till then, and, against the advice of Sir Joshua Reynolds himself, to paint his English and French soldiers, not in Roman togas, which had been thought the onl;, garments equal to the dignity of historic occasion, but in their respective ordinary uniforms, thus adding largely to the truth and therefore to tiie pathos of the incidents. But West made no great advance in his art from the Departure of Regitliis, his first commission from the king, and from the Fall of Wolfe ; rather he retrograded through the endless list of his historical and clas- sical pictures, forced, formal, and stiff, which he painted to the perfect contentment 01 King George. After the king's illness, when West was left more to his own inspiration and re- sources, he secrned to take a new start in his art, and his Christ Healing the Sick * and Death on the Pale Horse are still valued for far more than respectable drawing and colouring. West was one of the first thirty-six members of the Royal Academy and succeeded Sir Joshua Reynolds as president, retaining the office till his death at the age of eighty-two years, in 1820. * See Steel Engravinj. STUART. 193 Another American had arrived in Londor to dispute the palm of victory with the English painters. John Singleton Coplfy was born at Boston, in 1737. He went to England in 1774, and after visiting Roi.ic, settled in England in 1775. Like West, he had been a portrait painter, and, like him also, Copley adopted historical painting as his chosen branch of art. Like West still, and very unlike Barry, or the later British historical and imaginative painters, Copley had a prosperous history. He was fortunate in taking for his first historical work a contemporary scene, which had made a deep impression on the English natijn — The Death (or rather the death-blow) of Ckatliam in the House of Lords. Popular as this picture became through engravings, it was inferior to a later work of Copley's — The Death of Major Pierson (in the rescue of the island of Jersey from the French) — which is regarded as superior to West's Death of Wolfe. Copley introduced successfully portraits into his historical pictures. In character, Copley was industrious, painstaking, and unobtrusive. He died full of years, and having attained an honourable independence, in his seventy-ninth year, in 1815, and left a more distinguished son — the great barrister and chancellor, Lord Lyndhurst, who continued for many years to reside in his father's old house in George Street, Hanover Square, where many of the painter's works were retained and cherished. As a historical painter, Copley, while a far less cultivated artist, is said to have been fresher and more original than West. Gilbert Charles Stuart, the portrait-painter, was born at Narragansett, in Rhode Island, in 1756. He received his instruction in art from Cosmo Alexander, who took him to Scotland with him, but Stuart returned to America soon afterwards. In 1 77 1, he went again to Great Britain, and established himself as a portrait-painter in London, where he enjoyed the friendship and society of some of the famous men of the day. In 1793 he returned to America, and after residing in New York, Wash- ington, and Philadelphia, he re-established himself finally, in 1806, at Boston, where he continued to paint with uninterrupted success until his death, which occurred in 1828. Of the works of Stuart we may notice — in the Boston Athenaeum, the original Portrait of Washington, whom the artist painted from life but three times ; the first portrait was destroyed by Stuart because it did not meet with his approval ; the second was painted for the Marquis of Lansdowne, and the third is the one above-mentioned. The artist frequently repeated these pictures. The Boston Athcnasum has a Portrait of Mrs. Washington, and other works by Stuart. His works are commonly seen both in the public and private galleries in America. John Trumbull, the historical painter, who was born at Lebanon, Connecticut, in 1756, is one of the best of the early American artists. He combined the profes- sions of a soldier and a painter, and thus had the means of being an eye-witness of scjnes which suggested the subjects of many of the works which have made his name larnous. He graduated at Harvard, entered the army, was made aide-de-camp to \Vashington, and became a colonel. In 1780, Trumbull went through France, to London, where he studied under his fellow-countryman, West. Arrested as a spy, he was obliged to leave the country ; he returned to America, but on the cessation of hostilities, he went again to England, and resumed his studies under West. In 1789, 'I i' 194 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. Trumbull returned once more to America, and employed himself in painting the portraits of the celebrated soldiers of the late war. After a visit to London of nineteen years (1796 to 18 15) seven of which were spent in diplomatic service — he lived con- stantly in America. He died in New York in 1843, at the advanced age of eighty- seven, and was buried in Yale College, in a tomb built by himself under a gallery which formerly contained his original sketches for the four great works executed in the rotunda of the Capitol at Washington — the Declaration of Independence;* the Sur- render of Ihtrgoyne ; the Surrender of Cornwallis ; and tl ; Resignation of Washington at Annapolis. They have since been moved to the Art Gallery in Yale College. Of the first-mentioned of these works, Henry Greenough says, " I admire in this com- position the skill with which Trumbull has collected so many portraits in formal ses- sion, without theatrical effort, in order to enliven it, and without falling into insipidity by adherence to trivial fact. These men are earnest, yet full of dignity ; they are firm, yet cheerful ; they are gentlemen ; and you can see at a glance that they meant some- thing very serious in pledging their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honours." Of other works by Trumbull we may notice — in the City Hall, New York, portraits of Governors Lewis Vind Clinton, and one of Washington — an oft repeated subject; at New Haven, the Death of General Montgomery, "one of the most spirited battle-pieces ever painted," the Battle of Bunker Hill, a full-length Portrait of Wash- ington, in addition to the original sketches for the rotunda pictures, and numerous historic works. CnARL.:s Wilson Peaie, who was born at Chesterton, Maryland, in 1747, was not only a painter, but a worker in wood, metal, and leather. Besides his oil-paint- ings, he executed numerous miniatures, for which he " sawed his own ivory, moulded the glasses, and made the shagreen cases." He studied under various masters — in Philadelphia under a German, in Boston with Copley, and in London with West. Peale was the most popular portrait-painter of his time, and was especially re- markable from the fact that he painted, in 1772, the first authentic likeness of Wash- ington. He subsequently made thirteen other portaits of that President. Peale died in 1826. Philadelphia is rich in his works — more especially in the Independence Hall, where there is a complete gallery of his pictures. John Vanderlyn, who was born in 1776 at Kingston, New York, like Quintin Matsys began life as a blacksmith. His talents were noticed by Colonel Burr, who gave him a start in life at New York. In 1803, Vanderlyn went to Europe, and was in Paris and Rome the friend and companion of AUston. In Rome he painted, in 1807, his famous Marius sitting on the Ruins of Carthage, to which Napoleon person- ally awarded the prize medal in the Salon o{ \%o^, and which the emperor tried to buy ; but Vanderlyn wished to take it to America, and it was subsequently purchased by Bishop Kip, in whose possession it still remains at San Francisco. This work is especially noteworthy for the care which the artist has taken to represent, as nearly as possible, the architecture and the costumes of the time. Vanderlyn's life was a series of successes and failures, of riches and poverty, though unfortunately the latter * See Steel Engraving. THE CONNOISSEUR. (From the original fainting by E. Stammel.) i ALLSTON. 195 preponderated, and he died in great want at his native town, Kingston, in 1852. He was buried in the Wiltwyck Cemetery, hard by. Besides the Marius, above- mentioned, this artist executed but one other work worthy to be compared to it. This is the Sleeping Ariadne, which the Boston Athenaium refused to purchase for five hundred dollars, and for which Mr. Harrison of Philadelphia gave ten times that amount. Of his remaining works, most of which are portraits, we need not speak. Washington Allston, the chief painter of the American School, was born at VVaccamaw in South Carolina, in 1779. After the completion of his university career at Harvard, he took up his abode at Charlcstown, where, however, desiring to go to Europe for the improvement of his art, he did not long remain. He arrived in Lon- don in 1 80 1, and at once entered the Royal Academy schools, where he became acquainted with his fellow-countryman West, who was then president. In 1804, Allston went with his friend Vanderlyn to Paris and thence to Rome, where in the following year he painted his Joseph's Dream. At Rome, Allston commenced with Washington Irving a friendship which lasted for life. He also became acquainted with Coleridge, and the Danish sculptor, Thorwaldsen. In 1809, Allston returned to America, married a sister of Dr. Channing, and then went to London, where he pro- duced his Dead Man revived by the bones of Elisha, which gained a prize of $1,000 from the British Institution. It is now in the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts at Philadelphia. Then followed the Liberation of St. Peter by the Angel, now in the church of Ashby-de-la-Zouch ; Uriel in the Sun, in the possession of the Duke of Sutherland ; and Jacob's Dream, in the Petworth Gallery. In 18 18, Allston returned to America, and settled at Boston, with his health weakened by sor- row for his wife, lately deceased, and by over-work. In the same year he was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy. Of the works which he executed in the follow- ing years, we may notice, the Prophet Jeremiah, now in Yale College ; Said and the Witch of Endor ; Miriam's Song and Dante's Beatrice. In 1830, Allston married again. His second choice was the daughter of Chief Justice Dana, of Cambridge, Massachusetts, where he settled. At Cambridge, Allston spent the rest of his life in secluded industry, occasionally interrupted by illness. He then produced one of his best known works, Spalatro's Vision of the Bloody Hand, from " The Italian," by Mrs. Radcliffe — especially remarkable for the effects of light and shade, and for the expression of fright ,and a guilty conscience on the face of Spalatro, and the firm determination visible on the countenance of the monk. This work, which was painted for Mr. Ball, of South Carolina, was in the Taylor Johnston Collection in New York ; it has been engraved by W. J. Linton. His Rosalie, executed late in life, is also worthy of mention. Allston died at Cambridge in 1843, leaving unfinished a large work, on which he had been engaged at various times for about forty years. It represents Belshazzar' s Feast; and is now in the Boston Athenaeum, where there is also a Portrait of Benja- min West, which, with that of Coleridge, by the same artist, in the National Portrait Gallery, proves that Allston excelled in portraiture as well as in historic painting. The works of Allston, the pride of his country, the " American Titian," are espe- cially remarkable for the beauty and power of colouring. In his subjects, he was fond 1) 196 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. i ii of the terrible, especially noticeable in Spalatro^s Vision, Saul and the Wilch of Endor, and in the unfinished Bdsliaszar's Feaat. Charles Robert Leslie was born in London, 1794. He was American by descent, his father and mother having been natives of Maryland, counting kin with original British settlers. Robert Leslie, the father, was engaged as a painter, and clock and watchmaker, in Philadelphia, but had taken a voyage to England on busi- ness, accompanied by his family. On the occasion of their visit, which was of soveral years' duration, Charles Leslie was born. The watchmaker and his family returned to Philadelphia, and after a voyage of more than seven months, he found that his affairs had fallen into great disorder, a discovery which caused his death, leaving Leslie, not yet ten years of age, under the charge of a widowed mother. The widow opened a boarding house for the support of her family, while her eldest daughter went out as a drawing teacher. The professors of the college at Philadel- phia admitted the young Leslie lads to the college classes at reduced fees, and uncles and aunts, who had comfortable and pleasant farmers' and millers' homesteads on the Brandywine, welcomed the boys with homely kindness, for the summer holidays. At fourteen years of age, Charles Leslie was bent on being a painter, but by the anxious care of his mother he was apprenticed to a firm of booksellers and publishers, to the head of which his apprentice's ineradicable propensity for art at first gave little satisfaction. Eventually, however, the man of business afforded liberal assistance to his subordinate. The occasion of the visit of Cooke the tragedian to Philadelphia, when the book- seller's apprentice was able to make a telling sketch of the actor, caused the kindly conversion of the master to the lad's art-interest. By the aid of the business men who attended the E.Kchangc Office House, Leslie was enabled to proceed to Europe to prosecute his studies. Ho went to England in 181 1, when he was seventeen years of age, taking, of course, letters of introduction to his countryman. West. Leslie and another American lad, two years older, took lodgings together, and started, by devoting "their days to painting, and their evenings to the Royal Academy," to which Leslie was admitted a student in 18 13, when he was in his twentieth year. As a farther advantage the studios of West, cind of the American painter, Allston, then in London, were open to Leslie. He was permitted to see his seniors' work in progress, and was encouraged and helped by their advice and friend- ship, for the lonely lad had taken with him the cheerful, amiable temper, as well as the enthusiasm for his profession, which had so speedily broken down opposition, and procured him influential friends beyond the Atlantic. He studied the Townley Marbles in the British Museum, and rose at six in the morning to accompany his American companion to Burlington House, to join him in the study of the Elgin Marbles then lodged there. For Leslie put little value on any outside help, which was not supplemented by personal diligence ; indeed, he went so far as to deprecate all education save self-education, and was wont to speak of the "wise neglect" of Fuseli which made such men as Wilkie, Mulready, Etty, Landseer, and Haydon, and did not render them " all alike by teaching." In order to gain an inmiediate livelihood, Leslie practised portrait painting ; he LESLIE. 197 was also induced, probah' ' by tlic example of West, to try high art, in Saul and the Witch of Endor ; but he very soon, almost as soon as Wilkie, found his proper voca- tion in genre painting. In 1817, when Leslie was twenty-three years of age, he visited Paris, Brussels, and Antwerp, studying the old masters. This was one of Leslie's few visits to the continent; like Mulready, he never went to Italy. As early as 18 19, when Leslie was no more than twenty-five years of age, he painted for an American merchant, and exhibited in the Academy, his .S'/> Roger dc Covcrley going to Church, which was at once received with great approbation — making his way clear. This was the first of a long series of pictures peculiarly acceptable to the public, because they were spirited and lovely illustrations of popular subjects, and both illustrations and subjects, while they were certainly not below, were, with equal certainty, not far above, the general intelligence of a fairly cultivated public. A list of Leslie's best-known subjects will show our meaning : May-day in the Reign of Queen Elizabeth ; Sancho Panza and the Duchess; Lady Jane Grey prevailed on to accept the Croxvn (in this instance there is a slight departure from the usual role, for it will be observed that Leslie's subjects, while moderately intellectual, are for the most part cheerful as his own tcn)per, and not even darkened by the shadow of a tragedy) ; Dinner at Page's House; Uncle Toby and the Jriilmc; and The Taming of the Shrezi'* Leslie's intimacy with his countryman Washington Irving, whose Sketch Book Leslie illustrated, is judged, probably with perfect correctness, to have been the influence which directed the painter to the pages of Addison — greatly admired by Washington Irving — for inspiration, since Leslie drew his inspiration mainly from books. Leslie corresponded regularly with his American relations, and for a time looked forward to his return to America, but his art friends and his good prospects in England proved too strong for this intention. In 182 1, when he was twenty-seven years of age, Leslie was elected an associate of the Academy, and five years later he became a full member. The accident of his taking the place of another painter sum- moned hurriedly to sketch the features of a dying child introduced Leslie to the pictorial glories of Petworth, and the friendly patronage of Lord Egremont, for whom he painted Sancho Panza in the apartment of the Duchess, one of the most admired of Leslie's pictures, and one which secured his worldly success, enabling him to make in 1824, at thirty years of age, a happy marriage with a young English beauty, belonging to a bevy of six sisters, named Stone, whose personal charms provoked their grotesque classification by some would-be wit of the circle, as " the six precious Stones." But though Leslie was settled in England and married to an English wife, he did not lose his American sympathies. He was given throughout his life to fast friendships, which even influenced his art, and his greatest friends for years were his countrymen — the pleasant, witty author, Washington Irving, and the clever, vain, hare-brained painter, Newton, to whose ability in colouring Leslie's inferiority in that respect owed improvement. The three young Americans seem to have been * See Steel Engraving. H 198 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. inseparable, visiting together in a circle of Americans resident in England, frequenting the two studios, running off in a trio on light-hearted expeditions, dining many a time frugally, but merrily, at the York Chop House, in Wardour Street, which Mr. Redgrave tells us is, or was till lately, still extant, and where generations of young painters have, in succession, been served. But Leslie did not need to go beyond his own home for peace and relaxation. He was a man of domestic tastes and warm affections, and in his wife, with their children, to whom he was tenderly attached, rising round him, he found the sweetest solace after work, as well as one of the best incentives to honourable ambition. But the interests of these children, and the strength of old ties, broke up this English home for a time, and tempted Leslie to revive his old project of returning to America. In 1833, when the painter was nearly forty years of age, he accepted the appoint- ment offered to him by the American Government of Professor of Drawing to the Military Academy of West Point, on the Hudson, and made the somewhat rash venture of resigning his known and fair opportunities in England, for a return to long- left interests and new and untried resources. The experiment did not prove success- ful. His duties were irksome, his English wife did not like America, the very climate seemed to the naturalized Englishman to have undergone a change from the days of his hardy boyhood, and within the short space of six months Leslie returned with his family to his adopted country. The brief leave-taking and going back, form two of the principal events in Leslie's happy and prosperous career. Short as the interval was during which they occurred, it included the catastrophe of the declared insanity of poor Newton the painter. In the room of the regard whose object had passed beyond its reach, Leslie developed a faithful friendship — not the less affectionate on account of the ruggedness of the friend, for Constable the painter, who in his turn exerted a marked effect on the sympathetic mind of Leslie, and thenceforth Con- stable's cool greys and vivid greens became prominent where Newton's brilliant rainbow hues had prevailed in the chosen interpreter of Cervantes, Sterne, and Shakespeare, in their lighter scenes. Before Leslie took his trial trip to America, he had painted for the Marquis of Westminster a family picture known as the Grosi'cnor family. A few years later he painted another portrait-piece for Lord Holland, The Library at Holland House, intro- ducing portraits of Lord and Lady Holland. In 1838, Leslie painted for the Queen her Coronation, in which the maiden Queen, and the fair young members of the English aristocracy, figure very gracefully. In 1 841, he executed a similar commis- sion, with the Christening of the Princess Royal for his subject. Leslie was elected Professor of Painting to the Royal Academy in 1 848, and held the appointment till failing health forced him to resign it in 185 1. Leslie's much- loved children, both while young and after they had grown to manhood and woman- hood, are said to have supplied him with many a hint for childish playfulness, girlish shyness, and the elastic vigour of young manhood. The death of one of these children, a cherished daughter and young bride, who faded suddenly and died in her early prime, is said to have proved at last Leslie's death-blow. She died in March, 1859. Her father, after struggling in vain with his depression, sank of n complaint. ( M AUDUBON. 199 from which no fatal result had at first been apprehended, and died in his house in St, John's Wood, London, in the May of the same year, 1859, aged sixty-four years. On a slip of paper attached to his will Leslie had written, " I trust I may die as I now am, in the entire belief of the Christian religion, as I understand it from the books of the New Testament, that is, as a direct revelation of the will and goodness of God towards the world by Jesus Christ, the Saviour and Judge of th*: world." Leslie has left a successor to his name and art, whose nymph-like maidens are a farther development of the lovt of the beautiful. Gilbert Stlakt Newton, who was born at Halifax, Nova Scotia, in 1795, studied under his uncle, Gilbert Stuart, went to Europe in 18 17, and paid one short visit to America in 1832. He died in London in 1835. Henry Lnman, who was born at Utica, New York, in 1801, studied for some time in New York under Jarvis, a good artist of the period. On the completion of his term, lnman after several years spent in New York, married, in 1832, and settled at Philadelphia, where he became famous as a painter of portraits, and occasionally of landscapes and genre pictures. In 1843, he went to England, where he remained for two years, much esteemed by the artist-circle in London of the time. lnman died in New York, in 1846, the year after his return. The works of this artist are commonly seen in the public and private galleries of America. The City Hall, New York, has some good portraits by him ; noteworthy among these is that of Governor Vcxn Burcn. His landscapes and genre pictures are best seen in private galleries. Of the former class, we may notice, a view of Ditndrcnnan Abbey, in the possession of Mr. James Lenox, i.'ainp lincanipuient* is an American artist of \\hom \'ery little is known. He worked in New York about the ^ear 1842, but his record has not been kept. Tiie excellence apparent in this fine historical painting causes us to regret that the artist has done so little. This episode of »^he colonial w.ir is well told. The native courtesy of Marion has prompted ari invitation to dinner, whicii the British officer has accepted, only to discover that sweet potatoes roasted in wood ashes is his " bill of fare." John J.\mi:s Audl'hon, who was born in Louisiana, in 1782, studied in Paris under David. On his return to America he devoted himself to portraying birds, just in the same manner as Catlin gave himself up to the painting of American Indians. Audubon's perseverance must have been great, for it is said that after he had collected several thousand sketches of birds, they were accidentally destroyed and the work had to be recommenced. When published in lulinburgh, the book contained more than one thousand bird'^' portraits, the originals of which aie now in the possession of the * Sec Stci 1 lllustiation. T'-T' , 1>"I.IJ..."- . .Ill (■•WlllH 200 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. ^1 New York Historical Society. Having cxliausted the feathered tribe, Audubon was engaged on a work on the quadrupeds of America, when he died in 185 1. Remurandt Pi:ale, the son of Charles Wilson Peale, was born in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, in 1787. After a short career as a portrait painter in Charleston, South Carolina, he went to London and studied under West. Peale also resided for some time iii Paris, where he painted, among other pictures, portraits for his father's museum. Rembrandt Peale died at Philadelphia in i860. His works are common in America. Thomas Cole, the landscape painter, was born at Bolton-lc-Moor, Lancashire, in 1 80 1, went when eighteen years of age to Steubenville, Ohio. After travelling about the country for some time, he visited New York, where he was patronized by Trum- bull and other artist«. Cole made two journeys to Europe, and stayed chiefly in Italy and England, the scenery of which countries furnished him with subjects for many of his best works. He died among his " own dear Catskill;," as he calls them; for with all the magnificent scenery of the Alps and elsewhere in Europe he remained true to his first love. Of Cole's works we may notice, in the possession of the New York Historical Society, the Course of Empire — five landscape scenes ; lately in the Taylor Johnston Collection of New York, his famous series of The Voyage of Life, the Mountain Ford, and Kcnikwrth Castle. Many of his works are in the private and public galleries of America. William Sydney Mount, born in Long Island, near New York, in 1807, studied painting at the School of the New York Academy of Design. He became eminent as a portrait painter, and highly appreciated as a painter of humorous subjects, of which we furnish an example in The Noon-day Rest* He died at Setauket, Long Island, 1868. Emmanuel Leutze, who was born at the village of Emingen in Wiirtemberg in 1816, went, when still young, with his father to America. He at first maintained himself by portrait painting, but his favourite subjects were of a historic nature. His earliest work of note is an Indian gazing on the setting sun. In 1841, Leutze deter- mined to visit Europe. He arrived at Amsterdam early in the year, and thence went to Diisseldorf, where he studied under Lessing. His Columbus before the council of Salamanca was purchased by the Art Union of that city. I'rom Diisseldorf Leutze went to Munich, and became the disciple of Cornelius and Kaulbach. After his Wanderjahre through Italy and Switzerland, he returned to America in 1859 and became justly famed as a painter of historic subjects. He subsequently paid a second visit to Europe, to bring home a wife, whom he had married at Diisseldorf on his first journey. Leutze died in 1868. Of the pictures of Leutze which are chiefly seen in New York and other Eastern cities, we may notice in the Capitol at Washington the Western Emigration — with the motto "Westward the course of Empire takes its way" — which is con- sidered one of his best works; also Columbus in chains, and Colmnbus before the Queen; the Landimr of the Norsemen in America; and John Knox admonishing Mary Queen of Scots, in the possession of Mr. M. O. Roberts, of New York. * See Steel Engraving. I 11 S UL L y. SOI Charles Lorixg Elliot, who was born at Scipio, New York, in 1812, was at first intended for a merchant, and then for an architect, his father's profession, but his love of painting prevailed, and he entered the studio of Trumbull in New York. On the completion of his studies, he established himself as a painter in that city, where, with the exception of several years spent in the western part of the State, he chiefly resided. He died in 1868. Elliot is said to have executed nearly seven hundred portraits. Of these the acknowledged masterpiece is that of Fletcher Harper, which was selected to represent American portraiture in the Paris Exhibition. Portraits by Elliot are in the possession of the Historical Society, and in the City Hall, New York, and also in private galleries in America. One of his best is the portrait of Mr. Cor- coran in the Corcoran Gallery at Washington. His portraits are noteworthy for vigour of drawing and colouring, and more especially for life-like representation. L0UI.S Remy Mignot, who was born in 1831, lived .some part of his life in New York ; he then removed to South Carolina, and subsequently took up his residence in England, though he paid various visits to his native land. He exhibited in the Royal Academy from time to time. In 1863 appeared Lagoon of Guayaquil, South A/ncn'ca, M\d a. Winter AForniug ; in \'!!>6^, an Evening in the Tropics; he was also a contributor to the exhibitions of 1866 and 1867. In 1870 appeared his last work, a Sunset off Hastings," oi gcrnxmc poetical treatment." Mignot died at Brighton, on the 22nd of September, 1870, in his fortieth year. " His pictures show talent above the average order, and arc characterized by much feeling for the picturesque beauty of nature, and great skill in handling." TnoMA.s SuLLV was born in England, but came to America with his parents (who were actors) when a child. He studied portrait painting in the South, and painted Jefferson and Lafayette, and on a visit to T^ngland had the honour of painting Queen Victoria. He settled finally in Philadelphia, where he applied himself to a wide range of subjects — Shakespeare, Robinson Crusoe, and others. We illustrate his Beii-felhnvs* James and William Hart, both eminent American painters, were born in Scot- land, in 1828 and 1823 respectively. They came to America in their ;hildhood, and .studied art at the Academy of Design, New York. They have both 1" .en fiimous for many years — William Hart for landscape, and James Hart for landscape and cattle. Few of the best galleries in America are without examples of the I larts'. James Hart exhibited several pictures at the Centennial K.xhibition, 1876, at Philadelphia, and was awarded a first class medal. We have illustrated The iratering-place,i a fair example of James Hart's most excellent style. W. T. Richards was born in Philadelphia, in 1833. He studied painting under Paul Weber, who was then esteemed Philadelphia's best master. Richards went to Europe in 1855, and alternated between Paris and Diisscldorf for nearly three years, when he returned to Philadelphia much improved in ability, and with one or two f-ii iif ■lit * See Steel Engraving. + See Steel Enpravtng. I 202 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. •(' important commissions. His sea-side paintings are by many considered his best; but in both marine and landscape he is considered one of America's foremost painters. His works grace the best galleries of America, and some have been sold to Europe ; they bring high prices. RonERT Swain Gifford was born in the State of Massachusetts, and was edu- cated at New Bedford. He had the advantage of a clever tutor in Van Bcest, who was an eminent art instructor in Boston during the last generation. Gifibrd opened a studio in Boston in 1864, but removed to New York in 1866, where he has been ever since. He went to Europe in 1872, and then visited Northern Africa, whence he returned with the glow of the Mediterranean sun in his eye, which he has embodied in his pictures. At home and abroad Gifford is ranked among the great living artists. G. R. BoNFiELD, a resident of Philadelphia, whose success as a marine painter earned for him the proud title of " The Van de Velde of America," is a native of Eng- land, but in early life made America his home as an adopted citizen. He studied first as a portrait painter, but soon found \\\^ forte to be marine painting. While in practice his pictures found a ready sale ; but of late years Bonhcld has been employed by Mr. James L. Claghorn as adviser in his great collection of engravings — a position for which Bonficld is eminently qualified as a tasteful and acute judge — and, for a retired artist, we could not imagine a more delightful position. Bonfield's paintings are in the best galleries in America, and are distinguished by a soft breezy dash and subdued colouring. Bonfield is nearly seventy years (1878). His son, Van de Velde Bonfield, gives great promise of success as a land- scape painter, especially in his winter scenes. Frank Briscoe, another Philadelphian, not over twenty-five years of age, has already made his mark as an accomplished painter, Briscoe exhibited at the Phila- delphia Centennial A Brecsy Day Off Dieppe, which would have passe J as one of the best productions of the Belgian or the French school. This may be due to his French education ; but, as one of the New York critics wrote of it, " It is a capital picture of amphibious life, and the painter's manipulation of forms is such that every object is in its right place, and would unhinge the composition if removed, shows a mastery of scenic effect." P. T. Rotiiermf.l, the best living American figure colourist, has been famous for nearly a generation, and neither his physical nor artistic capacity show signs of decay. Born and educated in Philadelphia, he has made his name a household word in art throughout wide America. He was, in 1870, commissioned by the legislature of Pennsylvania to paint the Battle of Getty sburgli, for which he was paid in the neighbourhood of 525,000. This splendid painting was exhibited at the Centennial celebration in 1 876, together with Trial of Sir Harry J^«c, and one or two others of his works. His paintings grace many of the best collections in America and Canada. •works, fanuary and J/ay."' We illustrate one of his earlier * See Steel Engraving. r M' 1 1 i 1 ! !1 i '! 1 TERRY. 303 James Hamilton, whose recent death cast a cloud over the art lovers of America, was a Philadclphian by residence and education, thouyh we believe born in the North of Ireland. Self-educated in nearly every sense of the word, he achieved a success as a marine painter which placed his pictures in favourable comparison with the most accomplished marine painters of any school or time. He, unfortunately, painted too many pictures, and sold the fruits of his great genius too cheap ; but we venture to predict that now his pictures will advance in price. He was also a good landscape painter, but his sunset marines earned him the title of the "American Turner." The Moran Family — Peter, Edward, and Tom — all born in Philadelphia, and all men of high capacity. Tom Moran has achieved the greatest celebrity from his pictures of the Ycllmvstonc Country and his Mountain of the Holy Cross. Kdward Moran, now living in New York, and a member of the National Academy, is versatile in his excellence, but we like best his marine subjects. His Nciv York Harbour by MoonligJit and The Leading; Yacht wore e.xliibited at the Centennial Exhibition, 1 876, and were awarded a first-class medal. Peter Moran is noted for his excellence as an animal painter and an etcher, in both of which his success is very decided. He exhibited Cattle in a Storm at Phila- delphia, 1876, and was awarded a first-class medal. A sister of the Morans is married to S. J. Ferris, a rising artist and accomplished etcher in Philadelphia ; and Mrs. P'erris has a little son of about ten years, who already has etched some copies of Meissonier and Fortuny that are simply wonderful. We believe that Mr. P^dward Moran also has one or two children who have shown marked ability as artists, and who are at present being educated in Paris for an art career; so we may truly say " the Morans are an artistic family." Christen Scheussele, who has for many years filled the chair of Professor and Director of the Academy of Fine Arts at Philadelphia, is a German by birth and education. He has painted some pictures that are well known throughout America. such as The fromvorker. Clear the Track, and Daniel Webster at the Grave of Shakes- peare* Scheussele has suffered for the last ten years from paralysis, but nevertheless continues his valuable position of instructor with unabated zeal. He was awarded a first class medal at the Centennial E.xhibition of 1876. Alhert F. Bellows, was born in New York in 1834, he was apprenticed to a lithographer in Boston, he always had shown artistic talent, and was enabled in 1855, to visit Paris and other P3uropean cities, where he soon became known as an accom- plished genre painter; among his works which are well known, are City Cousins and The First Pair of Boots. He returned to America in 1859, and was elected a member of the National Academy, New York. He now turned his attention to water-colour painting, with eminent success. He again visited England and has marked his visit by exquisite pictures of Country Lanes, Devonshire Cottages, Country Orchards, seductive in their green leafiness, — rivaling Birket Foster's chosen subjects. E. Wood Terry, was born in Boston in 1832, after having early determined on i * See Steel En<:;raving. » 204 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. »li ultimately becoming an artist; after the usual school education he took a situation in New Orleans as clerk in a conmiission house, and set himself to save money in order to educate himself in Europe for an artist's career. In 1833 he had saved what he deemed sufficient for his purpose, and went at once to luirope ; when he reached Diissekioif he put himself under the tuition of Leut/. and worked for two years, showinjf marked improvement ; he then returned to America and journeyed over the United States painting portraits. He settled for a time in San Francisco, and on his way home in 1864, he painted Hrigham \'oung full length, and several of his family and elders. He has since settled in \ew York, and by his choice of home-like American subjects, coupled with excellent execution, has become a great favourite with all lovers of art. He exhibited several pictures at the Philadelphia Exhibit of 1876, and was awarded a first-class medal. K. D. Lkwis, the great landscape artist, was born in Philadelphia, of wealthy parents, possessing many ailvantages ; he has, however, been a hard worker all his life, (he is still quite a young man). Mr. Lewis is a painter who has been described by one of our best art critics as " a workman who makes his picture luminous," and although a rapid worker and a producer of many pictures he never duplicates his subjects, and his work has all the evidence of minute care and finish. Some time ago Mr. Lewis went to Cuba, and painted many views from the tro- pical " Queen of the Antilles," and the magic of the tropics seems to have clung to his brush ever since. Many of the best galleries throughout America have one or more of Mr. Lewis' paintings. We engrave one of his recent works, A Scene on the Scliuylkill* J.\Mi:s K. Bi:.\ir old wherries, jetties, piers, rigging, bow-windows overlooking reaches of the peopled stream," an intuitive possession of the scenery of the Thames. " Never before," writes the critic of Whistler's picture of Wapping, "was that familiar scene so triumphantly painted ; " and he cites a similar picture, Old Battcrsca Bridge, and says of it, " with a mud shore and a river-side group, boats ready for launching, a grey sky, and greyer river, the side-long bridge crossed by carts and passengers, shows one vvay of treating these simple materials to perfection, whether composition, tone, truth, or originality is in demand." The painter is not always thus subdued in colour, neither is he always as blank as in the two pictures, entitled, oddly. The White Girl anci Tlic Little White Girl. He exhibited lately three pictures of river and coast scenes, named respectively, A Nocturne in crimson and gold, A Nocturne in blue and silver, and a Symphony in grey ami green. Daniel Huntington was born in 1816, in New York. Mr. Tuckerman writes that more than thirty years ago — ' within a stone's throw of the glorious old elms of New Haven, a slight-built youth with a green shade over his eyes, used to study the Odes of Horace at three o'clock in the morning," and that this lad thus fascinated by the old poet's wit, and oblivious of time, was the painter Daniel Huntington. After studying in various American studios, Huntington went abroad in 1839, when he was twenty-three years of age, visiting Italy, and residing in turn at Florence and Rome. After his first return to America he painted portraits, and began an elaborate illustration of the Piigrinfs Progress, but was stopped in his work by an affection of the eyes. In 1844, when he was twenty-eight years of age, he repaired again to Italy, making Rome his head-quarters. In ' 846 he was back once more in New York, painting portraits, with an occasional hi.storical and genre picture. Huntington is said to be a thoughtful, quiet painter, and a sincere, unassuming man, not without a considerable appreciation of humour. His aim is represented as sober and manly, rejecting alike violent efforts at dramatic effect and minute drudgery of elaboration. In historic and genre pictures he is understood to rely on his intelligent and sometimes highly-wrought transfer of a scene to canvas. In his portraits, truth and simplicity are reckoned his conspicuous merits. His execution is consideied good, though subdued. In 1850, when Huntington was thirty-four years of age, there was an exhibition of his works in his native city of New York. Among his best pictures are The Dream of Jlferey, The Communion of the Sick, Shepherd Boy of the Compagna, Ichabod Crane and Ko.trina Von Trcssel, and Sowing the Word. One of Huntington's later pictures, which chanced to be finished at the date of the outbreak of the Southern rebellion, was a pleasant commemoration of an old republican gala — A Reception given by Mrs. Washington during her Husband's Presi- dency. Sixty figures were introduced into the eight feet of canvas. There were grouped the patriotic, intrepid men, and the high-spirited, tender-hearted woman, who saw and lived through the struggle for independence. Old portraits, miniatures, and family descendants, who were supposed to retain family features with family names were faithfully sought out, to give the personages in the picture truth and lii^ing character. Huntington's portraits include those of the \d.\.Q President Lincoln, Agassis, Bryant, Earl of Carlisle and Sir C. Eastlake. ^^~^s^«^ ed :es \y 1 a er ng ity he 'tie ed a tes of he by 39. ice an an •ed in ng as ;ry snt ith led ere est the of old r«'- ere 'ho ind ere ter. mt, n\: 1 1 i i Hi I 1 CHURCH. 207 William Pace was bom in 18 11, at Albany. When eleven years of age he gained a premium from the American Institute for an India-ink drawing, but at a later stage of his youth he proposed to renounce art for theology, and went to Andover to study divinity. He soon resumed his artist life, while retaining his strong religious convictions. He soon found sitters as a portrait painter, and proposed to visit Europe in the prosecution of his art, but an early attachment, and a marriage before he was twenty-one, established him in New York. In spite of the want of a European training, so much coveted and so frequently secured by American painters, Page prospered and attracted notice — above all, by his successful colouring. His marriage proved unhappy. He was divorced from his wife, married again, removed to Boston, and soon proceeded to Europe, remaining abroad many years, and residing principally in Rome, where he had the reputation of being the first American portrait painter. Page's love of colour, and possibly his speculative disposition, which has latterly led him to adopt the opinions of Swedenborg, have caused him to indulge in exten- sive experiments in colour, some of them proving fortunate, some unsuccessful in results. Many Americans think that Page, at his best, approaches the excellence of the Venitian school in colouring, and tell that " one of his copies of Titian was stopped by the authorities of Florence as an original." Page has not been equally happy with his ideal subjects ; his admirers acknow- ledge that their superior colouring is balanced by odd, incongruous composition. Among Page's best portraits are those oi Robert Browning, Mrs. Craivford, ixnd Lowell. After his return to America Page delivered a course of lectures on painting. Frederic Edwin Church, the great American landscape painter, was born in 1826, at Hartford, Connecticut. He showed an early taste for art, sought the society of Bartholomew the sculptor, and entered as a pupil the studio of Cole the painter. Unlike so many of the American painters. Church did not seek to complete his art education in Europe, but set himself to study nature (at first in the home scenery of the Catskill mountains) in those atmospheric effects, the love of which has been a passion with him, while they seem to have been missed by the earlier American landscape painters. Church's pictures must have been distinguished from the begin- ning by originality and independence, and by genuine devotion to nature, while his drawing was held in advance of his colouring. His vividly conceived, vigorously portrayed skies at once attracted notice, in such early pictures as T/ie Lifting of a Storm Cloud, Evening after a Storm. He was not contented witli learning hy heart nature cultivated and tamed ; he turned with longing instinct to nature in the virgin charm of her wildest, most savage haunts, whether she broke forth in the gorgeous luxuriance and burning volcanos of the tropics, or stood arrested and frozen with a ghastly steel-blue gleam over her dead whiteness, in polar seas. In 1853, when Church was twenty- seven years of age, he sailed for South America, where he travelled and made many sketches, residing, while in the vicinity of Quito, beneath the same roof and in the same family which fifty years before had received Humboldt, whose portrait as a lad in Prussian uniform is still preserved on the wall of one of the rooms. On Church's return home his picture of The Great nri . ) 208 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. Mountain Chain of N civ Granada was welcomed with so mucli interest and admira- tion that he paid another visit to South America, bringing back new stores of sketches, worked up later into his famous pictures The Heart of the Andes, Cotopaxi (in eruption), Chimborazo, and The Rainy Season vi the Tropics. After his second expedition to South America, Church painted his well-known picture of t^e Falls of Niagara, in an oblong seven feet by three, where the Horse- shoe Fall is given as seen from the Canadian shore near Table Rock. This picture added greatly to his reputation, as, while it dealt with a very difficult subject, it was regarded " as the first satisfactory delineation by art of one of the greatest natural wonders of the western world." In the mean time the fate of Sir John Franklin's expedition, and the adventures of the gallant men — among them Elisha Kane, who went in vain to the rescue of the " Erebus" and " Terror" — had taken a deep hold of the public mind, and fired the imagination of the painter of wild nature. Church set himself to become familiar with the northern regions through the travels and the conversation of Arctic explorers, and at last chartered a vessel and set sail for Labrador to see with his own eyes the marvels of icebergs. The chief fruit of his voyage was The Icebergs, remarkable alike for its subject and its treatment, exhibited in London in 1863. Eventually the picture was destined for London, having become the property of Mr. Watson, M. P. In 1866 a domestic affliction induced Church to seek change of scene in Jamaica, where he spent the summer, studying not only " sunset, storm, and mists," outlines of hills, mountain-gorges, lines of coast, but " the most minute and elaborate details of palms, ferns, cane-brakes, flowers, grasses, and lizards." A curious work by Church was painted in anticipation of the ci^M war, and was circulated widely in the form of a coloured lithograph. It was called Onr Banner in the Sky, and represented, by means of a genuine though fantastic study of a sky, cloudy " stripes " and " stars " shining through the clouds, with the leafless trunk of a tree standing for a flagstaff*. Albert Bierstadt was born in 1829, at Dusseldorf His father, a German soldier, who had seen service in the Peninsular war, emigrated to America two years after the birth of his son Albert, and the family have resided for many years at New Bedford, Massachusetts. There young Bierstadt received his education. While the lad turned from the first to art, he was dissuaded from making it his profession, till he was in his twenty-third year, when he painted a picture in oils, and resolved on earning the means to visit his native Dusseldorf with its German School of Art, and to cultivate the friendship of his cousin Hascnclever, a German genre painter popular in America. In 1853, when Bierstadt was m his twenty-fifth year, he sailed for Europe, and proceeded to Dusseldorf, when he had the disappointment of finding that Hascn- clever was just dead. However, Bierstadt entered the Dusseldorf Acadomy as a student, and went during the summer months on a sketching tour in Germany and Switzerland, making, in the mean time, in the room of his kinsman Hasenclever, valuable friends in " Lcssing, Achenbach, Leutze, and Whitteridgc." During his student days Bierstadt gave no great proof of ability. His first good picture was The Old Mill, painted on a walking tour in Westphalia; and his next — which hud CROPSEY. 209 sufficient merits to lay the foundation of his name as a landscape painter — was a picture called Sunshine and Shadow, taken on a tour in Hesse Cassel, and represent- ing only the fine effect of light and shade " on the mossy, massive front and low- arched door of a quaint mediaeval church, with a wide-spreading, venerable tree beside the wall, and an old woman seated under the gateway. Bierstadt spent a winter in Rome along with Whitteridge, went on a pedestrian tour through the Apennines with another friendly artist, made a sojourn in Switzerland and on the Rhine, still with brother artists, before he returned home in 1857, when he was in his twenty-ninth year. Bierstadt had, in the four years which he had spent abroad, become an accom- plished artist, and needed but to show in proof of his attainments, his Sunshine and Shadow, Bay of Sorento, Street Scene in Rome, etc., etc. He took his next tour in America among the White Mountains, and a little later, in 1858, he joined the late General Lander's exploring party to the Rocky Mountains. On this long and adven- turous expedition Bierstadt travelled with his companions in a spring wagon, or on Indian ponies, in pursuit of sport as well as art, shooting grouse, antelope, sage hens, and " sleeping in blankets under the open sky, waking with the dew on their faces." Bierstadt's great picture of The Rocky Mountains represents a vast plain, over which groups of Indians in their primitive condition, and their wigwams are scattered ; huge cotton-wood trees, oaks, and pines, occupy a portion of the foreground; beyond flows a river, on the opposite shore of which rise beetling cliffs, and lofty snow-crowned mountains — the highest peak Mount Lander. The picture made a great impression. Among Bierstadt's later pictures which rank with the Rocky Mountains — Mount Lander, are A Storm among the Rocky Mountains, and Mount Hood in the Oregon Territory. Having received a government commission Bierstadt went again to Europe in 1867, in his thirty-ninth year, to make studies for a picture of the discovery of the North River by Henry Hudson, Bierstadt has his home on the banks of the Hudson, his studio commanding an extensive view of the noble river in the vicinity of the Tappan Zee. Bierstadt represents the Dusseldorf school in landscape painting. High praise is awarded to his drawing and composition, but his colouring is objected to as hard and dry. In the style of the modern school of German painters, there is more pure intel- lect than fancy and feeling in his pictures, and where sentiment appears it tends to sensationalism. Mr. Tuckerman attributes Bierstadt's great success in America in part to the fact that Dusseldorf landscape painting has been until lately a novelty there. With some points in common, Bierstadt is a more scholarly and " finished " painter than Church, while the latter is probably the more original of the two, with more true poetry in his exclusive devotion to nature than exists in the exceeding cleverness of the master of the most learned modem school. Bierstadt exhibited Western Kansas and the Landing of Columbus, at the Cen- tennial exhibition, Philadelphia, 1876. Among other well-known American landscape painters are Cropsey, whose Corfc Castle was exhibited in the Royal Academy, and his Autumn on the Hudson I ■! ; 2IO THE TABLE BOOK OF ART River at the International Exhibition, 1862; Kensett, lately dead, the greatest Prre- raphaclite of American artists, and held in special esteem among modern Belgian painters ; Hcade, famous for tropical birds and blossoms, and in his Apple Blossoms for the flower of home orchards. We must say a word of the little co. my of American artists in Rome, which has become a distinct feature of the Eternal City. Of these artists. Story the sculptor is to the English world the centre. Of the painters. Chapman is " the Nestor," and is fa- mous in design and etching, though grave fault is found with his colouring. Among his most popular illustrations of books have been his drawings for Harper's Illustrated Bible, and Schmidt's Tales. He received a government commission to paint for the Rotunda of the Capitol, Washington, The Baptism of Pocahontas. He has resided in Rome for upwards of twenty years. Among his last pictures are, A Sunset in the Campagna, and Stone Pines in the Barbcrini Valley. Freeman is another genre painter, and an old resident in Rome. His Beggars, Crusaders' Return, Savoyard Boy in London, and Young Italy, are among his well- known pictures. He ranks high among American artists. Vedder is a third genre painter, one of the most original of American painters, distinguished specially for his quaintncss, alike in his subjects and their treatment. The very names of some of his pictures have a quaint ring. Among them are — The Aral? listening 'with his ear to the Great Sphinx, The Lair of the Sea Serpent, The Lost Mind (" wandering among the waste places of the earth"). Yewell paints landscapes and interiors, the latter with great fidelity and delicacy. His First Communion is a procession of young girls from the door of the fine old church of Morct, France. Healv, whose historical picture of Franklin urging the claims of the American colonics before Loins XVI. was exhibited at the Paris Exhibition in 1855, is one of the best American portrait painters of the French school. His portraits are said to be vigorous in character, but deficient in delicacy. Among his portraits are those of Louis Philippe, Marshal Soult, M. Guizot, Webster, Patrick Jackson, Lowell, Peabody, Longfellow, &c., &c. TiLTON, with great merits and great defects, paints landscapes which require a strong ligb . by which to see their beauties. The painter is great in atmospheric effects, but is accused of sacrificing to tlie gossamer veil or sunny haze — in which he is given to shrouding his objects— the solid details. His Bays of Baiie and Naples, Bernese Alps, Fishing Boats of Venice, Grand Canal of Venice, and his views in Egypt, are among his best works. Haseltine of the Diisseldorf school, Dix the marine painter, whose landscape in the Channel Islands was exhibited at the Royal Academy, London, in 1866. George Loring Brown was born in Boston in 18 14, and at the age of fourteen was apprenticed to a wood engraver. His first painting was purchased by an art col- lector of repute in Boston, and on the strength of this success and the faith of some friends who advanced him the necessary means he .sailed for Europe, and after various adventures became the pupil of the great Isaby. On his return to America he found ready .sale for his pictures, at prices hitherto unknown to native talent. He painted the great cities of Europe, Rome, Florence, Genoa, Venice, &c., and in his own par- ticular line is without a rival in America. CO M > ^ w I o h n ■ t 1 ; m r \ ) ■ ii > ■} 1 ; U i LIVING AMERICAN ARTISTS. ill In recording the remaining artists of the American School, we find that our space will not allow of more than an imperfect list of the more distinguished. Whitt- REDGE, Eastman Johnson, J. G. Brown, Van Elton, De Haas, J. B. Irving, (deceased), Bridgeman, WiNSLow, Horner, Maynard, Coleman, Smillie, of New York. Herzoq| Lamudin, De Berg Richards, J. L. Stewart, Tom Eakins, Emily Sartain, WaughI De Crano, Weisman, Knight, Geo. Wright, Winner, Cooper, J. H. Brown and Cariss, of Philadelphia. Hill, of San Francisco; Ime, and rty" "the St. ustc, r. He med r in tion lich, cted ense the 1 his 1 as irbet nere ;ver, sr of the said cen- adth th in Cut- etat >n of ition long d. 1 was r was -con- 1877 Jean ther; r j I 1 i 1 jl r 1 3 J ■ h I \ i 1 ^ 1 • ii, *l' MEISSONIER. 215 from a digger's tent to a lady's boudoir ; from the clenched fist whose knuckles are yet red with knocking down a bullock, to a long, white, consumptive hand. Hamon is one of the most delicious of idyllic painters ; the most charming of French classic- ists; the most child-like and child-loving of Parisians. There is just a touch in him of dandyism, which one has scarcely heart to condemn." My Sister is not at Jiomc, A Girl in Cliarge of Children, and The Orphans, are famous and characteristic pictures by Hamon. Edouard Frere, the younger brother of a less distinguished painter, was born at Paris in 18 19. In his eighteenth year he became a pupil of Paul Delaroche, and at the same time entered the school of the Fine Arts. From the first Edouard Frere has been a genre painter, choosing even specially rustic and simple subjects, and working almost always on a small canvas He exhibited first in the Salon in 1843, when he was in his twenty-fourth year, and continued to rise in rank as a painter, receiving among other tokens of recognition, the Cross of the Legion of Honour, after the Exhibition of 1855. Although Frere's subjects are simple, they are by no means treated in a petty manner or overloaded with accessories; he is rather reproached with the heaviness of his colouring, and the rigid exclusion of a .nultitude of details, along with the com- plete subordination of those which he introduces to his main purpose. His merits are the truth and tenderness and exceeding freshness of his pictures. F. C. Compte-Calix, born at Lyons, 1820, one of the bright modern French school, was educated at the School of Fine Arts, Lyons, and exhibited at the French Academy as early as 1844, where he was awarded a medal. He exhibited Youth and Age* at the French Exhibition, 1867, where the picture was purchased by the Countess of Bonneville. A. Cabanel, a native of Montpellier, exhibited first in Paris in 1825, and received the Grand Medal of Honour, 1865. This artist, who like Gerome and Meissonier, has received all the honours and decorations in the power of France to bestow, has several of his very choicest examples in American galleries. Venus Rising from the Sea is in the gallery of Mr. Henry C. Gibson, of Philadelphia ; Mr. August Belmont, of New York, has Paradise Lost ; and there is another painting of Cabanel's in the Corcoran Gallery at Washington. M. Cabanel exhibits this year at Paris, 1878. We illustrate his picture. The Annunciation^ painted in 1876. J. A. Breton is another great French artist, who has achieved the highest distinction. He was born at Couvriers in 1832, and as a iigure painter, combined with landscape, we question whether he has an equal to-day. We illustrate one of his most recent pictures, Tlie Eire of St. fohn's Day,\ which was at the Exhibition at Philadelphia, 1876, and obtained for its painter a first-class medal. Jean Louis Ernest Meissonier was born at Lyons in 181 1. He is a genre painter, like Frere, and paints in still smaller compass, his pictures being not so much cabinet as miniature versions of subjects rendered with an " exquisite finish," which has been likened to that of Terburg and Metzu. But not only is there finish, there "* See Steel Engraving. fSce Illustration, ^m 216 TI/£ TABLE BOOK OF ART. I *^ \l is great fidelity and " a large grasp " of a subject in small, which is supposed to have been attained by Meissonier from his wise habit of continuing to sketch his subjects life-size ; as, according to the painter's dictum, no artist can paint well small what he cannot give with equal correctness large. Unfortunately Meissonier is considered to be deficient not only in what constitutes high art, but in the tenderness which distin- guishes Frere'swork. Meissonier's claims to farae rest on his fineness of observation, and skill of hand ; and so marked are these qualities, and so uncommon the degree of excellence to which he has brought them in his very small pictures, that he has a high place of his own in modern French art. His Chess-players, and his Little McS' senger, were his first very successful works. His Lecture dies Diderot and his Smoker are quoted by Mr. Hamerton for their great superiority in their kind. His Dream was bought by the late Emperor for twenty thousand francs, and presented to the late Prince Albert. We illustrate one of his latest works. The Flute-player.* Meissonier was created a knight of the Legion of Honour in 1846, and a Mem- ber of the Institute in 1863. Paul Gustave Dore;, whose canvasses are as huge as Meissonier's are minute, and who has had the misfortune to be hailed in the beginning of his career with extravagant praise — to be followed, in the reaction which was nearly certain to come, with well-nigh unmitigated censure, was born at Strasbourg in 1832, and is therefore more than forty years of age. He went to Paris at the age of thirteen years, and pursued his studies in art at the Charlemagne Lyceum. In 1848, when he was but sixteen years of age, he contributed sketches to the Journal pour Rire, which may answer, in a fashion, to the English Punch, and exhibited pen sketches which attracted attention in the Salon. At the Exhibition in 1855, when he was twenty- two years of age, he exhibited his Battle of the Alma, and Battle of Inkcrmann. But he made his fame by his woodcuts and illustrations of books, especially the illustra- tions of Dante's Inferno, though he has never ceased to aspire to eminence as a painter, and not only rents " two large studios in Paris which are crowded with can- vasses," but has a well-known " gallery " of his paintings open to the public in New Bond Street, London. Dore, who has been accused of having exhausted his original resources, is de- clared to be among artists one of the most productive as well as assimilative (that is, capable of imbibing and reproducing in a fresh and almost individual form, the ideas of others) ; nevertheless, he may have drawn upon his powers to the verge of exhaus- tion. It is charitably allowed with regard to Dore, that if he had devoted his hours to painting, in place of being tempted aside to grow rich by woodcuts, he might by this time have done something remarkable as a painter. Mr. Hamerton holds that Dore's best pictures are his early Famille de Saltim- boaque, and his Neophyte, or young Monk seated among his elder brethren, of 1868, while the same critic believes Dore to have " a true landscape gift," and even " a sense of the sublimity of landscape very rare in France, but his landscape painting is wanting in refinement." Possibly refinement is wanting in more than his landscape *Sec Illustration. BONHEUR. %\^ painting, at least that subdued moderation, which belongs to power tutored and regu- lated, is not found in the vividly-conceived, energetically-executed work of Dore. In " the science of art," he is said to be deficient ; he is charged with being " false " in chiaro-scuro, and not possessed of more than " elementary " knowledge in form — defects which the great scale of his pictures make conspicuous ; while as an excep- tional and peculiar genius working after his own methods, he gets " as much science as he needs for his usual business of book illustration." We illustrate one of his recent paintings, Alexander the Great weeping over the body of Darius.* Rosalie or Rosa Bonheur was born at Bordeaux, in 1822. She is the daughter of a painter, who was her first teacher in art, and one of a family of more or less distinguished artists — her brother Auguste being a painter, another brother, Isodor, a sculptor, and her sister Juliette, wife of M. Peyrol, a painter. Rosa Bonheur has kept steadfastly to animal and landscape painting. She exhibited in 1841, when she was nineteen years of age, two small pictures, entitled Two Rabbits, and Sheep and Goats. Her first great work exhibited in 1849 — the year of her father's death, when she was twenty-seven years of age, — was her Houghing in the Nivernois. This picture was placed in the Luxembourg. Four years later she won still greater fame by her Horse Fair, which was engraved by Landseer. Rosa Bonheur, assisted by her sister, acts as directress of a gratuitous School of Design for girls, committed to her charge by the City of Paris in 1849. When a girl Rosa Bonheur kept a sheep in a Parisian apartment, and as a dis- tinguished woman she maintains "offices" full of animals which are not only associated with her name, but are her familiar friends. We have read anecdotes of visits to her studio, which include tours of this city farm-yard. Rosa Bonheur has been, from youth to middle life, a devoted student, absorbed in her art. In order to prosecute it without obstacle or interruption, she has broken through many of the restraints of society, and indulged in a thousand eccentricities. She has gone in a man's clothes to study anatomy in the shambles, and to make adventurous and dangerous excursions, when she has had to lodge for weeks in the huts of herdsmen and muleteers. She has been so careless of ordinary forms as to go with a friend to the theatre after having painted to the last moment, " in a kind of dressing-gown, all spotted with drops of oil, and an old pair of yellow slippers ; her hair, too, loose like a man's hair, when it is allowed to grow rather long." But how- ever we may take exception to those liberties, and question whether they are absolutely necessary in the interest of art, we must at least rejoice that Rosa Bonheur, " the most accomplished female artist who has ever lived," is a woman of perfectly pure and unsullied character, in many respects very estimable, simple in her personal habits, kind, generous, and helpful to her neighbours. Rosa Bonheur is a very prosperous artist, loaded with commissions, and paid sometimes as much as |t4,ooo for a slight water-colour sketch. One element of her success is said to have been the use which a crafty picture-dealer made once of the combination of her talent and industry with her sex. (It was so wonderful that such *See Illustration. w 3l8 T//£ TABLE BOOK OF ART. work should be done by a woman ! ) Thus beyond a certain point the womanhood, which is so often brought forward either as an accusation of, or as a plea for, weak- ness, may operate advantageously in the assertion of a marvel. But the true worker, whether man or woman, wants only a fair field and no favour. Here is Mr. Hamerton's enthusiastic reference to the Ploughing in Niveniois : — " I hear as I write the cry of the ox-drivers — incessant, musical, monotonous. I hear it not in imagination, but coming to my open window from the fields. The morning air is fresh and pure, the scene is wide and fair, and the autumn sunshine filters through an expanse of broken, silvery cloud. They are ploughing not far off, with two teams of six oxen each — white oxen of the noble Charolais breed, sleek, powerful beasts, whose moving muscles show under their skins like the muscles of trained athletes. Where the gleams of sunshine fall on these changing groups I see in nature that picture of Rosa Bonheur's, Ploughing in the Nivcrnois" Madame Uenriette Browne was born in Paris, and was a pupil of M. Chaplin. She received third and second class medals in acknowledgment of her work as a painter, in 1855, 1857, 1858, 1859, 1861, and as an engraver in 1863. We cannot tell more of her personal history, we can only write of her work as that of a gifted and accomplished contemporary painter, holding — not indeed so high a place as Rosa Bonheur, but an honourable place among her brother artists, and becoming well known and appreciated in this country. Her Sick Boy tended by Sisters of Charity was exhibited in England, and was deservedly admired for its tender and touchinjr senti- ment and good painting. We have before us a photograph cony of her Saying Grace. A simple young girl, with great black eyes looking from under the brow shaded by stray locks of her short-cut hair, and surmounted by her white cap, crosses decorously the hands, one of which poises a fork minus a prong. The whole air of the picture is innocent and loveable. Millet, in his Moon-light, Corot, Rousseau, and Dl\z, have taken the place of Troyon as landscape painters, while Fantin, with his perfect " white stocks" and his " lilac," is unsurpassed as a modern flower painter. In closing a summary of the condition of art in France, we rejoice to say that it never was in such a prosperous state. Paris is decidedly the art capital of the world ; every art sympathy centres there. It is said, on good authority, that the sale of paintings last year in Paris amounted to over ;g8,(X)0,ocx3, and that the average popula- tion of artists in Paris is 8,000. The Government is behind all this immense organiza- tion. There is in France a Minister of Fine Arts, appointed as much a matter of course as the American Government appoints a Secretary of the Interior or a Secre- tary of the Treasury. His portfolio is joined to that of Public Instruction, which means that proper education in the Fine Arts is considered by France the highest education of the highest civilization. The famous names of the modern French school which we have not been able to embody at length in this work, but which names, in all instances, are richly deserving extended record, are as follows : Chintreuil, Bonnat, Fromentin, Merle, Le- COMPTE, Daubigny, Zeim, Lalanne, Allonge, Jacques, Regnault (dead), Lambinet, Harpignies, Rousseau, Gide Bern/er, Toulmouche, Schenck, Defaux, Van Marke, THE ANNUNCIATION. (From the original painting by Alex. Catanel.) i :1 LEYS. 319 Mauve, Lrw, Chaplin, Dubuffe, Carlos Duran, Tissot, Detaille, De Neuvii.le, Protais, Philippoteux, Pasini, Bellv, Volon, Appian, Anticna, Armanu, Dumer- esque. Baron, Barrias, Bavaro, G, Becker, Bouc.ereau, Boulanoer. CoMTE, (whose Louis XI. and the Performing Pigs .ittractcd such attention in the Philadelphia Exhibition of 1876). Curzon, Cot. Feyen-Perrin, Goupil, Heuert, Henner, Huey, Laurens, LECoMTE-nu-NouY, Mazerolle, Perrault, Priou, Plassan, RiBOT, BlDA, VeYRASSAT, VlBERT, VlIUL, WoRMS, YoN, BeRNE-BeLLECOUR, J. LEWIS Brown, Luminais, Moreau, P. Baudrv (the decorator of the New Opera House) and Gavarni. We might have very considerably extended this list of distinguished French artists, because, as we have said, there are at least 8,000 artists and students of Paint- ing in Paris to-day ; and when we take into consideration the organized encourage- ment given by the French Government to art, we may cease to wonder at the multi- tude of great artists Vv'hose names v/e are enabled to enumerate, the large majority of whom have already been decorated with the cross of the Legion of Honor (in its various degrees) ; a distinction not lightly bestowed and only earned by the most undoubted merit. BELGIUM AND THE NETHERLANDS. Of contemporary Belgian painters, Nicaise de Keyser, who, like more than one of his great contemporaries, is said to have been originally a shepherd boy, fills a prominent place. His Battle of Courtray, and his Battle of Woringen, two of L 3 best- known pictures, are in the Museum at Brussels. His St. FJir:abeth giving Alms became the property of King Leopold. He and his school are said to be followers of Paul Delaroche. Baron Henri Leys, officer of the Legion of Honour, officer of the order of Leopold, and Chevalier of the order of St. Michael, of Bavaria, is a native of Antwerp. While yet in his nineteenth year, he exhibited at Brussels, in 1833, a picture of The Massacre at Antwerp in 15^6, which at once attracted notice, and he rapidly rose to eminence. He is considered to have trodden with ardour and diligence in the foot- .steps of the great Flemish masters, and he has gained great commendation for his fine colouring — rich and deep, and for his chiaro-scuro, as well as for his composition. A want of fire and fervour is hinted at, by his admirers, as a fault in the painter. His subjects have been drawn very frequently from mediieval times. Leys exhibited at the Paris Exhibition of 1855, and the English International Exhibition of 1862. Among his best works are The Institution of the Golden Fleece, Margaret of Austria receiving the oatlis of the Archers of Antiverp, and Young Luther singing hymns in the streets of Eisenach.* His Armourer is in the Royal Collection, Windsor, and his Mary of Burgtmdy giving Alms to the Poor, brought at the sale of a well-known col- lection the sum of ^5, 000. m * See Illustration. 220 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. M. Kaemmerer, a Belgian, who recently came into notice, promises a great future. His first painting which attracted public notice was Winter in Holland ; this was succeeded by At the Sea Shore* which we engrave. His touch is light and airy, and his colouring brilliant. Louis Gallait, a native of Tjurney, finished his art studies in Paris, and exhibi- ted his pictures in the Paris Salon from 1835 to 1853, from his twenty-sixth to his forty-fourth year. F"rom France he received the decoration of the Legion of Honour ; in Belgium he was elected a member of the Royal Academy. He is fully recognized as an original and powerful historical painter. His Job and his Friends is in the Luxembourg Museum, his Baldwin crozuned Emperor at Constantinople is in the Gallery at Versailles, and his Montaigne visiting Tasso was bought by the King of the Belgians, who also bought Gallait's Temptation of St. Anthony, and presented it to the Prince Consort. His Murder of Counts Egmont and Horn is in the Gallery of W. J. Walters, Baltimore. WiLLEiMS is mentioned by Rossetti as a " dainty domestic painter," a definition warranted by Willems' Interitfr of a Silk Mercer's Shop in 1660, and his La Priere Maternelle, though perhaps his Drinking the King's Health scarcely comes under the same category. I was There is in Mrs. VVilstack's Gallery in Philadelphia. The brothers Alfred and Joseph Stevens — the latter an animal painter — are decided realists and naturalists in art, and arc forcible and verging on violence as mannerists. Mr. Rossetti instances them as massive and intense colourists, and quotes with high praise Alfred Stevens' Reading, Meditation, and What People call Vagrancy> and Joseph Stevens' Episode of the Dog Market at Paris. Veku(Eckhoven, the great Belgian animal painter, is a native of Flanders. He is a Knight of the Legion of Honour and of the order of Leopold, and has immense popularity, though it is alleged by critics that his work, though clever, will by no means bear comparison with the work of Landseer and Rosa Bonhcur. In 1834, Baron Rothschild gave Verbceckhoven ten thousand francs for a landscape painting, and he has not since painted a picture of the same size for less. Perhaps, partly as a natural result, he is employed for beyond one man's powers. Sheep is his speciality, but he includes horses, cattle, and indeed every quadruped and biped, in his long list. Among Dutch painters Israels exhibited in the London exhibition of 1862 The Shipivreck, which Mr. Rossetti describes as " solemn and dirge-like," and declares that it was unsurpassed by any piece of domestic tragedy in the Kxhibition. Van Schen- del, a native of Breda, an art student at Amsterdam and Antwerp, and at last settled in Brussels, is known for the masterly distribution of light and shade in his pictures^ His Market Scene by Moonlight, and other market scenes, are examples of his peculiar skill. Some of his best pictures which have been bought by the King of Bavaria, are at Munich. He had three pictures at the Philadelphia Centennial Kxhibition. Bernard Cornelius Koekoek, who died in 1862, was another eminent modern Dutch painter. He was the son of a marine painter also distinguished in art, and Bernard's surviving brothers, both good Dutch painters, make the name of Koekoek * Sec Illustration. RICHTER. 231 a family name in Dutch art. Our painter was born at Middleburg, and ultimately resided at Clcvcs. As a landscape painter he was famous for his fidelity to nature, naivete, and ft'eling. For a Landscape in Autumn and a Wood Scene in Winter, exhi- bited at the Universal Kxhibition of 1855, Koekoek was awarded a first-class medal. Of the other great names of Belgium and the Netherlands we may record PoK- TAELS, Selingmever, Jean Verhas, Felix Cogen, T. Weber, Bossuet, (whose view of The Tiber at Rome was at the Philadelphia Exhibition), Wulfeaert, Gempt, (whose Cat feigning death -wa?, at the Philadelphia Exhibition, 1876), Ten'-K ate, S. Altmann, Henrietta Roner, (whose Last Hope was at the Philadelphia Exhibition, 1876), BiscHOPP, Mesdag, Paul Weber and Baron Wappers. ENGLAND. Of the English School we must note Oui.ess, a young pupil of Millais, who already receives as much as $5,000 for a portrait; John Tennejl, the gifted artist of the Cartoons of Punch ; R. Ansuell, Sir Francis Grant, President of the Royal Academy; Sir John Gilbert, Elmore, Edward Armitage, Mrs. Jopling, E. J. Poynter, Dobson, E. Burne Jones, McWhirter, R. W. Macbeth, Pkttie, Crowe, Herkomer, Frank Hall, S. Luke Fildes, (whose Casual Ward caused such a sen- sation at the Philadelphia Centennial Exhibition); Orchardson, Saxt, Prinsep, A. C. Gow, and Richard Beavis, Carl Haag, C. W. Cope, Elizabeth Thompson, (whose Roll Call was the sensation of the Academy years ago); VicAT Cole, IIi)Ih;son, HoRSLEY, A. Johnston, Riviere, Absolon, and the marine painters Haves, Cooke, and Dawson ; all theje painters are giants, and each deserving a chapter or more, but in this work it cannot be given. One notable circumstance is that very few of the paintings of the best English artists reach the shores of America. This has been variously attempted to be accounted for by the theory that French, Belgian, and German art has been more the fashion in America, but it is also .said that iMiglish- men are very ^«roud of their artists and almost invariably outbid the Americans who attempt to purchase from their favourites — to the latter theory we are rather inclined from facts which have come to our knowledge. Art in England, notwithstanding the commercial depression, is in a very pros- perous condition, and her school at the present moment is more glorious in talent than it over was. GERMANY. H. RicHTER, is a professor and fellow of the Royal Academy of Berlin, and is probably one of the best known Gorman artists in America. He is an artist of very decided ability, and among the highest, if not the highest, as a portrait painter. His poetic rendering of Oriental subjects is rich and highly prized. We have illustrated one of his earlier works. The Tight Shoe ; * but the successful interpretation of " the pinch" is so eloquently set forth that wc need not dwell on it, as it speaks for itself Richter is still in his prime. * Sec Steel Engraving. ir r 222 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. ^M LuDWiG Knaus, also a professor of the Royal Academy of Berlin, was born at Diisseldorf The humourous and pathetic are his specialties, witness his world- renowned pictures /;/ a Thousand Anxieties, A Country Funeral, and On the Heights, in the Gallery of James L. Claghorn, Philadelphia. He also paints sacred subjects. The Holy Family is quite a success. His pictures are popular in America, and bring high prices. FuERBACH and Makart were both educated at Munich, and though the latter has achieved the greater reputation in America from his Abundantia and Catherine Cornaro, the former in the New York Metropolitan Museum, and the latter in the Austrian Department at Philadelphia Exhibition of 1 876, yet Fucrbach's Iphigenia at Aulis is a superior composition, which we would rather have than the best of Makart's. Both artists are young, but promise to advance art in every way. Oswald and Andreas Achenbach, of the Diisseldorf school, have many of their fine landscapes and coast scenes in this country. Vautier is also a Diisseldorf artist and has come prominently forward recently .with well executed genre subjects. A brilliant colourist and an excellent draughtsman of the Munich school, William Diez, pro- fessor, is noted for his horses and landscapes ; Edward GrUtzner for his interiors and sporting scenes, wine cellars and their visitors, a sort of refined Hassenclever, and evidently a student of the great Diisseldorf painter. Stammel, another of the present Diisseldorf school, whose excellent rendering of soldiers, has earned for him the title of the " German Meissonier," though he has far more natural jollity than the Frenchman. Many of his pictures are in America, bought years ago ; but very few now leave Germany. We engrave one of his finely conceived, finely finished pictures. The Connoisseur* His latest picture, Hochheimer, makes a beholder's lips water to behold it. The Austrian division of the German school contains many able modern names — the result of the care the State bestows on art education — Gabriel Max, celebrated for his Lion's Bride, being among the chief Munkacsy, the Hungarian, with his grand historical successes, may be also called an Austrian. Meyer von Bremen, who sprang from the Munich school, has so plentifully supplied the American market with his works, that we could tell of nearly thirty of his high-priced pictures here. He is a careful painter, choosing his subjects from every-day German peasant life, and deservedly popular. Frederick Charles IIausmann, born at Hanau, near Frankfort, in 1825, holds an honourable place among German historical painters. His Galileo before the Council ' \4 ! '11 I Mm 228 TJIE TABLE BOOK OF ART. Michael Angelo's The Cmnean Sibyl. (Page 2.) There were, according to tradition, ten sibyls; the most famous was Almathea of Cuiiica, who offered her nine books to Tarquin the Proud. The offer was rejected ; she burnt three of them, and after the lapse of twelve months, offered the remaining six at the same price. Again being refused she burnt three more, and after a similar interval asked the same price for the remaining three. The sum demanded was now given and the Cumean sibyl never made her appearance again. The books referred to were Sibylline prophecies written in Greek upon palm leaves. Raphael's The Cartoons. See description in the text, page 55. (Page 6.) Titian's Daughter. (Page 10.) This ripe and blooming beauty, one of the four great portraits of the world, was doubtless a labour of love from Titian's easel ; the other three great portraits are Raphael's Fornarina, Rubens' Straw Hat, and Lionardo's Joconde, all referred to in this work. Terburg's Refreshment. (Page 14.) It may be milk or water from the sober appearance of the pitcher, but the tell- tale glass suggests wine or even schnaps. However, her bedstead is not far to reach if it be the most potent " refreshment," and the lady's sober face docs not suggest any habitual intemperance. Durer's Samson and the Lion. (Page 18.) Judges xiv. 5th and 6th verses. — Then went Samson down, and his father and his mother, to Timnath, and came to the vineyards of Timnath : and behold, a young lion roared against him. And the Spirit of the Lord came mightily upon him, and he rent him as he would have rent a kid, and he had nothing in his hand : but he told not his father or his mother what he had done. Berghem's The Wayside Fountain. (Page 22.) A Dutch pastoral scene not requiring description. Rur.ENs' Descent from the Cross. (Page 26.) Luke xxiii. 50, /^ and jj. — And, behold, there was a man named Joseph, a counsellor; and he was a good man, and a just man. This man went unto Pilate, and begged the body of Jesus. And he took it down, and wrapped it in linen, and laid it in a sepulchre that was hewn in stone, wherein never man before was laid. West's Healing the Sick. (Page 30.) Matthew xix. i and 2. — And it came to pass, that when Jesus had finished these sayings, he departed from Galilee, and came into the roasts of Judxa beyond Jordan; And great multitudes followed him ; and he healed them there. BB DESCRIPTION OF STEEL AND WOOD ENGRAVINGS. 229 Rembrandt's Adolphus Threatening his Father the Duke de Guildre. (Page 34.) Adolphus, impatient at his father's longevity, accused him falsely to the govern- ment and was awarded his estates. Adolphus then proceeded to prison and reviled and menaced his father, whereupon the judges reversed their decision. — History of the Netherlands, 1450. Trumbull's The Declaration of Independence. (Page 38.) On the 4th of July, the Congress at Philadelphia agreed on a Declaration of Independence, thereby absolving the colonies from every allegiance to the crown of England. The motion for this purpose first made on the 7th of June by Richard Henry Lee, of Virginia, and seconded by John Adams, of Massachusetts, in con- formity with the particular instruction of their constituents and the general voice of all the States, was decided by an almost unanimous vote. — American History. Caravaggio's Card-Players. (Page 42.) The poor lad who thinks he can play cards, and unaware of the cheats likely to be met with in the game, sits innocently studying his best to play his hand well, whilst his opponent is being made aware of the contents of the youth's hand, by a series of signals from a confederate, thus enabliig the cheat to win the game from his unsuspecting victim. Reynolds' Coquette. (Page 46.) A painting in the Royal collection at Windsor is a fine piece of portrait painting, though we cannot sec much coquetry in the high-bred, lady-like face before us. The Second Plate in Hogarth's Series of Marriage a la Mode, (See page 50.) 7 his represents a Reception Room in the young nobleman's house, not long after the breaking up of a party. The clock shows us it is noon. We arc to suppose, then, by the candles being still burning, that the day has been shut out, and con- verted into night — a circumstance not a little characteristic of the irregularity and disorder that reigns within the house — and that, after an hour or two's sleep, madam is just risen to hreakfast ; whose rising has occasioned that of the family in general. This is intimateJ. by one of the servants in the background of this picture, who, we are to understand, though scarce awake, has hurried on his clothes, in order to set the house, in some measure, to rights. By the trcatis of Hoyle's Games upon the floor, we are taught the idle study of people of distin'^v ■ . With respect to the attitudes of the two principal figures, the fineness of the thou- , it, and the particular exactness of the expressions, they must be allowed to be extremely beautiful. They arc, at the same time, well introduced, as from the indifference that gives rise to them springs the destruction of this unhappy family. On the one hand, we are to suppose the lady totally neglected by her husband ; on the other, by way of contrast, that tlie Husband is ju=i; returned from the apartments of some woman, fatigued, exhausted and satiated. And as pleasures of this sort are seldom without interruption, we are shown, by the female cap in his pocket, and his broken sword, that he has been engaged in some If 2.;0 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. !1 i \ riot or uproar. An old, faithful steward, who has a regard for the family, seems to have taken this opportunity (not being able to find a better,) to settle his accounts ; but the general disorder of the family, and the indisposition of his master and mis- tress, render it impossible. See him, then, returning in an attitude of concern, dread- ing the approaching ruin of them both. As a satire on the extravagance of '.ne nobility, Mr. Hogarth has humourously put into this man's hands a number of un- paid bills, and placed upon the file only one receipt, intimating the genera! bad pay of people of quality. Led, then, from one act of dissipation to another, the hero of this piece meets his destruction in hunting after pleasure. Little does he imagine what misery awaits him, and what dreadful consequences will be the result of his proceedings ; but, deter- mined to embrace the trifling happiness in view, he runs heedlessly on in his dissi- pated rareei', until he seals his unhappy fate. It has bet;n justly remarked, that " the figure of the young libertine, who, on his return home from his debaucheries, after d? • break, has thrown himself into a chair, is so admirable for its attitude, expression, drawing and colouring, as alone utterly to refute the assertion of Lord Oxford, that Hogarth, however great as an author or inventor, possessed as a painter but little merit." Gainsborough's The Village Beau. (Page 54.) Is another of those episodes of cvery-day life which can be comprehended without a word of explanation, whether in America, Europe, Asia, or Africa. Under certain circur.istanccs like those before us, " Two's company and three's none ;" or rather as Gay puts it from the mouth of Captain Macheath in the Beggar's Opera: " How happy I could be with either Were the t'other dear charmer away." The landscape is in Gainsborough's best style, and the two dogs are introduced to illustrate what is passing in the rural girls' minds, for the dogs are saying as plainly as dogs can look, " what are you doing here ?" Havdon's Quintus Curtius. (Page 58.) The Roman legend which the painter Haydon has illustrated, is dated 362 b. c, and tells how a gulf suddenly appeared in the forum, according to one account, riven by a thunderbolt, — and the oracle declared that it would never close till what was dearest to Rome was thrown therein. At this announcement a noble youth, Quintus Curtius, came forward, declaring that her citizens were the most valuable possessions of the city; and, armed and on horseback, he leapt into the chasm, which forthwith closed over his head. "In the proud forum's central space Earth yawned a gulf profound, And then, with awe on every face, Rome's bravest gathered round ; Each seeming, yet with startled ear, The oracle's dread voice to hear. is5 s to ints; mis- ead- r.ne un- ly of 5 his vaits eter- lissi- 1 his hair, ly to »r or 3ut a Ttain er as I luced ainly B.C., riven t was lintus ;sions liwith I' I \' 1 DESCRIPTION OF STEEL AND WOOD ENGRAVINGS. Young Curtius on his war-horse sprung, 'Mid plaudits deep— not loud, For admiration checked each tongue In all the circling crowd ; — He gave his noble steed the rein — Earth's closing gulf entombed the twain." Leslie's Taming of the SJirciv, Act iv., Scene 3. (Page 62.) Petruchio; Thy gown? Why ay :— come, tailor, let us see'tl Oh mercy, God, what masking stuff is here ! What's this? a sleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon. What up and down, carved like an apple-tart? Here's snip and nip, and cut, and slish, and slash, Like to a censer in a barber's shop ? Why, what, o' devil's name, call'st thou this? Constable's Whcatfidd. (Page 66) A delicious English landscape, suggestive of shady lanes and rural retreats. 231 Delaroche's The Young Princes in the Tower. For description seepage 160. (Page 70.) Turner's Wreck of the Minotaur. (Page 74.) At half-past eight o'clock, booms, hen-coops, spars, And all things, for a chance, had been cast loose That still could keep afloat the struggling tars. For yet they strove, although of no great use ; There was no light in heaven but a few stars. The boats put off o'ercrowded with their crews ; She gave a heel, and then a lurch to port, And, going down head foremost— sunk, in short. Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell, — Then shrieked the timid, and stood still the brave, — Then some leaped overboard with dreadful yell, As eager to anticipate their grave ; And the sea yawned around her like a hell, And down she sucked with her the whirling wave, Like one who grapples with his enemy. And strives to strangle him before he die. And first one universal shriek there rushed, Louder than the ioud ocean, like a crash Of echoing thunder; and then all was hushed, Save the wild '■ ind and the remorseless dash Of billows ; bv . at intervals there gushed. Accompanied with a convulsive splash, A voluntary shriek, the bubbling cry Of some strong swimmer in his agony. — Byron. 232 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. I White's General Marion and the British Officer. (Page 78.) A British officer, having been sent from Georgetown, to negotiate an exchange of prisoners, was conducted into Marion's encampment. When the business was con- cluded, the officer took up his hat to retire "Oh no!" said Marion, " it is now our time for dining ; and I hope, Sir, you will give us the pleasure of your company to dinner." On mention of the word dinner, the British officer looked around him, but could see no indications of preparation. " Come, Tom," said the General to one of his men, " give us our dinner." The dinner to which he alluded was no other than a few sweet potatoes roasting under the embers, and which Tom, with his pine stick soon drew from their concealment, then having cleansed them from the ashes, partly by blowing them, and partly by brushing them with the sleeve of his old cot- ton shirt, he placed them before the General and the British officer. ¥\EX)'sJeanie Deans and the Dnke of Ar gyle. (Page 82.) " It was the other paper, sir," said Jcanie, somewhat abashed at the mistake. " O, this is my unfortunate grandfather's hand, sure enough — ' To all who may have friendship for the house of Argyle, these are to certify that Benjamin Butler, of Monk's regiment dragoons, of having been, under God, the means of saving my life from four English troopers who were about to slay me, I, having no other present means of recompense in my power, do give him this acknowledgment, hoping that it may be useful to him or his, during these troublesome times; and do conjure my friends, tenants, kinsmen, and whoever will do aught for me, either in the Highlands or Lowlands, to protect and assist the said Benjamin Butler and his friends or family, on their lawful occasions, giving them such countenance, maintenance, and supply, as may correspond with the benefit he hath bestowed on me ; witness my hand, 'Lorne. "This is a strong injunction. This Benjamin Butler was your grandfather, I suppose ? You seem too young to have been his daughter." " He was nae akin to me, sir, — he was grandfather to ane — to a neighbour's son — to a sincere weel-wisher of mine, sir," dropping her little courtesy as she spoke. " O, I understand," said the Duke, " a true-love afifair. He was the grandsire of one you are engaged to ? " " One I was engaged to, sir," said Jeanie, sighing, " but this unhappy business of my poor sister — " " What ! " said the Duke, hastily, — " he has not deserted you on that account, has he ? " " No, sir ; he wad be the last to leave a friend in difficulties," said Jeanie ; " but I maun think for him, as weel as for mysel. He is a clergyman, sir, and it v/ould not beseem him to marry the like of me, wi' this disgrace on my kindred." " You are a singular young woman," said the Duke. " You seem to think of everyone before yourself. And have you really come up from Edinburgh on foot to attempt this hopeless solicitation for your sister's life ? " Mount's Noonday Rest. (Page 86.) " Sweet is rest afler labour," and the dinner hour to the labourer is especially a sweet season for a brief siesta. The painter with a spirit of fun, for which he was Tf DESCRIPTION OF STEEL AND WOOD ENGRAVINGS. 233 noted, worthy of Wilkie, has introduced a boy full of mischief who tickles the sleep- ing negro's nose with a straw ; the landscape is well painted, and the whole keeping of the picture is farm-like and rural. Chalon's Hunt the Slipper. (Page 90.) The picture is " of high-born dames and courtly cavaliers," and the surroundings bespeak " wealth and pomp and j-alaces," but the game of Hunt the Slipper is as well known in the peasant's hut as in the baron's castle. But for the presence of the host and hostess and their grandchild, we could imagine the whole scene from the pages of Boccaccio. Schuessele's Daniel iVebstcr at Stratford-on-Avon. (Page 94.) This is a good portrait of the great orator and statesman visiting the grave of the great poet. Roberts' Interior of the Greek Church, Constantinople. (Page 98.) The subjects of the Sultan number many Greeks, hence the policy of freedom of Christian worship in the very metropolis of Mahometanism. The church of our picture is one noted for its splendour, and Roberts has done his subject justice. Burnett's The Dancing Dolls. (Page 102.) Simple and home-like. A little Italian boy, with puppets, has " struck luck," in finding a grandfather and grandmother entertaining two grandchildren. Delight is universal, with the exception of a little girl at the window, who cannot see so well as her selfish brother, who has secured the best place for a stolen view. John Linnel's Sunshine. (Page 106.) A fine English landscape. Warm, cloudy and sunshiny, as fine days in England are. Sully's Bed-Fellozvs. (See page 1 10.) "In my dim, fire-lighted chamber, Pussy purrs beneath my chair. And my play-worn boy beside me Kneels to say his evening prayer; ifi if If * * * * He is sleeping; soft and silken Lie the lashes long and meek, Like caressing, clinging shadows O'er his plump and peachy cheek, And I'm sitting silent weeping Thankful tears, oh ! — undefiled— For a mother's crown of glory, For the blessing of a child." I 'A I K^Li 234 TIfJS TABLE BOOK OF ART. BiRKET Foster's The Race up the Hill. (Page 1 14.) Oh dear ! and will the baby get first to the winning post ? What a labour of love, and what a lovely scone ! Fleecy clouds, green fields and leafy woods ; heath on the hill and flowers in among the bushes; white sheep dotting the gowany sward. The children have brought their dinner with them for a day's enjoyment — ^and they'll have it you may rest assured. Ingres' The Slave and h^r Slave. (Page 118.) Her hair's long auburn w;aves down to her heel Flowed like an Alpin'; torrent which the sun Dyes with his morning light, — and v/ould conceal Her person if allowed at large to run, And still they seem resentfully 10 feel The silken fillet'^ curb, and sought to shun Their bonds whene'er some Zephyr caught began To oiTer his young pinion as her fan. Round her she made an atmosphere of life, The very air seemed lighter from her eyes, They were so soft, and beautiful, and rife With ail we can imagine of the skies, And pure as Psyche ere she grew a wife — Too pure even for the purest human ties; Her overpowering presence made you feel It would not be idolatry to kneel. — Byron. Burr's The Peddler. (Page 122.) The scene represents one of those picturesque wayside cottages which are to be found all over England nnd Scotland. The peddler has called with his basket of wares; the mother is interested in a substantial earthenware dish, whilst the child points *o some toys which she would like to have. The peddler, meanwhile, is hold- ing forth in a general way on the cheapness of his merchandise. Frith's The Beau's Stratagem. (Page 126.) " Oh ! love will venture in Where he daurna weel be seen.' So sang Robert Burns a hundred years ago, and so we may sing now, and a hundred years hence. The letter fixed on the arrow bespeaks a bowman not very far away, the startled look of the duenna betokens lier surprise, while the quiet, puzzled look of the young lady shows that she knows ull about it, and what is passing in her mind xa how lo ^ct the letter before the old lady recovers from her surprise. It is the old, old stoiy, and a fine illustration of " Where there's a will there's a way." David's The Death 0/ Socrates. (Pyge 130.) 1 he .servant of the Eleven entered at the same iiistant, and, having informed him that the time for drinking the hemlock was come (which was at sunset), the servant was so much affected with sorrow, that he turned his back and fell a-weeping. I A PAUSE IN THE ARGUMENT. {J'roni the origitial faintiiij,' by Ixo //crrmuHit,) -*»£ ■■■I 'I.' 1:,' '■'! ' iP I'l mn m x\J. /Ovsshfi^' i»% THE FLUTE-PLAYER. DESCRIPTION OF STEEL AND WOOD ENGRAVINGS. 235 " See," said Socrates, " the good disposition of this man! Since my imprisonment he has often come to see me and to converse with me. He is more worthy than all his fellows. How heartily the poor man weeps for me ! " This is a remarkable example, and might teach those in an office of this kind how they ought to behave to all prisoners, but more especially to persons of merit, if at any time they should happen to fall into their hands. The fatal cup was brought. Socrates asked what it was necessary for him to do. " Nothing more," replied the servant, " than as soon as you have drunk off the draught to walk about till you find your legs grow weary, and afterwards lie down upon your bed." He took the cup without any emotion or change in his colour or countenance, and, regarding the man with a firm and steady look, " Well," said he, " what say you of this drink ; may one make a libation out of it ? " Upon being told that there was only enough for one dose : " At least," con- tinued he, " we may say our prayers to the gods, as it is our duty, and implore them to make our exit from this world and our last stage happy ; which is what I most ardently beg of them." After having spoken these words he kept silence for some time, and then drank ofifthe whole draught with an amazing tranquility and a serenity of aspect not to be expressed or conceived. ****** In the meantime he kept walking to and fro, and when he felt his legs grow weary, he laid down upon his back, as he had been directed. The poison then operated more and more. When Socrates found it began to gain on the heart, uncov- ering his face, which had been covered without doubt to prevent anything from dis- turbing him in his last moments, " Crito," said he, — which were his last words, — " we owe a cock to .^sculapius ; discharge that vow for me, and pray don't forget it ; " soon after which he breathed his last. Crito drew near and closed his mouth and eyes. Such was the end of Socrates ; in the first year of the QSth Olympiad, and the seventieth of his age. Cicero says he could never read the description of his death in Plato without tears. — Plutarch's Lives. ■\\ William Coi-lins' Old Farm Gate. (Page 134.) 'Twas here that the urchins would gather to play In the shadows of twilight, or sunny mid-day, For the stream running nigh and the hillocks of sand, Were temptations no dirt-loving rogue could withstand; But to swing on the gate rails, to clamber and ride Was the utmost of pleasure, of glory, and pride ; And the car of the victor, or carriage of state. Never carried such hearts as that old farm gate. Scheffer's Temptation. St. Luke iv. 5, 6, 7. (Page 138.) 5. And the devil, taking him up into an high mountain, shewed unto him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time. 6. And the devil said unto him. All this power will I give thee, and the glory of them : for that is delivered unto me ; and to whomsoever I will I give it. 7. If thou wilt therefore worship me, all shall be thine. 236 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART. 8. And Jesus answered and said unto him, Get thee behind me, Satan : for it is written. Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve. Callcott's Crossing the Stream. (Page 142.) This picture is a lovely landscape which requires no commentary ; the landscape is a lovely one, common to England. FoRTUNv's Prayer in an Arabian Mosque. (Page 146.) Fortuny has a more cleanly subject to deal with than Gerome, giving good op- portunity for his great display of colour ; the Arab on his gorgeous mat, and his weapons, guns, sword and pistols, bristling like a walking arsenal — only think ; this man is lifting his voice in prayer to " the Prince of Peace." Tschaggenny's Tlie Coiv Doctor. (Page 150.) Tells its own story. The Doctor is evidently on his rounds and has made a central farm-house his rendezvous, as the departing man and cow seen in the picture would indicate that the cow has been brought to the Doctor, not the Doctor to the cow. His cavalier air and fine clothes, and the traveling trunk, behind him, from which his boy is taking out medicines, all bespeak the itinerant. The cow looks sick enough, poor beast ! and the anxiety of the old couple who have brought her for prescription, could not be more intense if the life of a child were in question, in place of a cow ; and who knows, perhaps to them the cow was as im- portant in all results as the child would have been ? We hope however that the Doctor's confident air, which seems to say, " we'll soon set that all to rights," is not assumed, but that his medicine will set "crummie " all right. Lfavis' Arab Scribe. (Page 1 54.) Nobody in the Arab social circle is mote powerful or important than the Scribe. Where few are so educated as to be able to write, it can easily be conceived how many secrets such a position implies. He must be the confidant of all the lovers, and all distant relatives must correspond through him. In the present instance he seems occupied on a love-letter for the swarthy beauties by his side. James Hart's A Watering Place. (Page 158.) Is a scene in the neighbourhood of West Chester, but it would be equally pleasing as a natural pastoral scene were we to say it was in Holland, or Germany, or Scotland. Baron Leys' Luther Singing in the Streets of Eisenach. (Page 162.) In his boyhood, Luther developed a capacity and a passion for music, and being of a magnetic character '.sw around him many enthusiastic companions. It is re- corded in his biography, that he was wont to make an occasional tour of the streets of his native town Eisenach, in company with his musical comrades, and, as leader, delight the good burghers with his vocal accomplishment, in a manner equally novel and pleasing. DESCRIPTION OF STEEL AND WOOD ENGRAVINGS. 237 Nicol's Kept In, (Page 166.) We may suppose that " we have all been there," and the picture will explain itself, each beholder making allowance for change of scene. This scene is in Ireland, and the same class schoolmasters and boys are there to-day. GfeROME's Begging Monk at the Door of a Mosque. . (Page 1 70.) The shoes left outside indicate the oriental custom referred to in the New Testa- ment, " Take thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground." The worshipers in the mosque are on " holy ground." As regards " the monk " and his scant attire and unwholesome look, we would remark, as an English- man said of a similar objert, " he is a very disagreeable party." Taylor's The Young Chiefs First Ride. (Page 174.) Mounted on his Shetland pony, and accompanied by his father's plaided retainer and dogs, the young chief of a Highland clan has been gratified with his first ride. The scene is a heathery, mossy moor, of the north of Scotland, and it is impos- sible to tell which is the most sagacious or careful, the great stag hound or the faith- ful game-keeper. The delight of the young chief is successfully expressed, and as a model of happy childhood his face is a picture to behold and remember ! and the coupled pair of Skye terriers, evidently his daily companions, are as much excited over the event as if they were to have the next ride. Rosenthal's Elaine. (Page 178.) So those two brethren from the chariot took, And on the black decks laid her in her bed, Set in her hand a lily, o'er her hung The silken case with braided blazonings, And kiss'd her quiet brows, and saying to her " Sister, farewell for ever," and again, " Farewell, sweet sister," parted all in tears. And the dead, Oar'd by the dumb, went upward with the flood- In her right hand the lily, in her left The letter— all her bright hair streaming down— And all the coverlid was cloth of gold Drawn to her waist, and she herself in white All but her face, and that clear-featured face Was lovely, for she did not seen; as dead, But fast asleep, and lay as tho' ihe vcmX^di.— Tennyson. Note.— This picture is owned by Mrs. Johnson, of San Francisco. Landseer's Caught. (Page 182.) Explains itself. Cats are fond of fish, and pussy has evidently meant to help herself, but her paw has got in a tight place— in the live lobster's claw. We can almost hear pussy's w-e-u-y!! and the hist! hist! w-e-u-y-y-y-y ! ! ! as her starting eyeballs plainly show she is exclaiming ; a tight place indeed ! 238 THE TABLE BOOK OF ART, % \ \ u. Breton's Eve of St. John'' s Day. (Page i86.) A curious custom prevalent in Ireland and the west coast of France and Portugal, is the custom illustrated in the Eve of St. John's Day. It may have originally been connected with the Druidical rites of Midsummer night, 22d of June, (being on the 27th of June, 5 days later) the custom is so old that the origin is lost in obscurity. The dance is only of maidens, and none but maidens dare join in the dance — so the superstition runs. Bellange's The Old Soldier and his Family. (Page 190.) Safe and far from war's alarms, the old soldier has aroused within him a memory of former stirring times by the military w-ires of an Italian image boy. The pretty cottage, with its happy surroundings of wife and children, are skillfully contrasted with the scenes which are so easily to be seen passing before the backward-turned memory of the old soldier, who stands poseing the model of some old commander, and doubt- less thinking of days of peril passed and comrades slain. His wife, with no such thoughts to disturb her, thinks, " Will they please the children ?" Stammel's The Connoisseur. (Page 194.) " In sooth a prosperous gentleman," and with tastes and education to correspond with his fortunate position, he has surrounded himself with every luxury and many articles of beauty, as the surest means of begetting a due regard for the ingenuity of his fellow-men. In the picture he is evidently engaged in the scrutiny of a new purchase, either accomplished or contemplated, and we cannot doubt from his unmistakably pleased look that his verdict is favourable. Allom's Constantinople. (Page 198.) Nor oft I've seen such sight, nor heard such song. As wooed the eye, and thrilled the Bosphorus along. Loud was the lightsome tumult on the shore, Oft Music changed, but never ceased her tone. And timely echoed back the measured oar, And rippling waters made a pleasant moan ; The Queen of tides on high consenting shone, And when a transient breeze swept o'er the wave, 'Twas, as if darting from her heavenly throne, A brighter gl.ince her form reflected gave, • Till sparkling billows seemed to light the banks they lave. — Byron. [Of Constantinople, Byron says : — " I have seen the ruins of Athens, of Ephesus, and Delphi ; I have traversed a great part of Turkey, and many other parts of Eu- rope, and some of Asia ; but I never beheld a work of nature or art which yielded an impression like the prospect on each side, from the Seven Towers to the end of the Golden Horn."] k DESCRIPTION OF STEEL AND WOOD ENGRAVINGS. Boughton's The Departure of t/ie Mayflower. (Page 202.) Long in silence they watched the receding sail of the vessel, Much endeared to them all, as something living and human ; Then, as if filled with the spirit, and wrapt in a vision prophetic, Baring his hoary head, the excellent Elder of Plymouth Said, " Let us pray ! " and they prayed and thanked the Lord and took courage. Mournfully sobbed the waves at the base of the rock, and above them Bowed and whispered the wheat on the hill of death, and their kindred Seemed to awake in their graves, and to join in the prayer that they uttered. Sun-illumined and white, on the eastern verge of the ocean. Gleamed the departing sail, like a marble slab in a graveyard ; Buried beneath it lay forever all hope of escaping. Lo ! as they turned to depart, they saw the form of an Indian, Watching them from the hill ; but while they spake with each other. Pointing with outstretched hands, and saying, " Look ! " he had vanished. So they returned to their homes ; but Alden lingered a little. Musing alone on the shore, and watching the wash of the billows Round the base of the rock, and the sparkle and flash of the sunshine. Like the spirit of God, moving visibly over the waters. 239 Thus for a while he stood, and mused by the shore of the ocean. Thinking of many things, and most of all of Priscilla; And as if thought had the power to draw to itself, like the loadstone. Whatsoever it touches, by subtle laws of its nature ; Lo ! as he turned to depart, Priscilla was standing beside him. — Longfellow. Note.— This painting is owned by Mr. Fairman Rogers of Philadelphia. Rothermel's January and May. (Page 206.) This picture illustrates the every day misalliance of youth and age — an old man and a young wife, which too frequently brings dissatisfaction to both. Poets and painters have made this their favourite subject since the days of Chau- cer, and long before then. We need not comment further on what is, after all, a matter of taste. Schrever's Forses A/armed dy IVo/ves. (Page 210.) This is an admirable picture. The fine drawing of the animals, the terror of the horses so well depicted, the stealthy action of the wolves, and the dreary outlook of the landscape, and the miserable corral into which the horses have crowded, all com- bine in rendering the feeling of insecurity intense, which is the skilful artist's premedi- tated aim. Compte-Camx's Youl/i and Age. (Page 214.) " She grieves to think she may be burdensome Now feeble, old and tottering to the tomb." " Oh hear me Heaven ! and record my vow. Its non-performance let thy wrath pursue. I sv/ear, of what thy providence may give My mother shall her due maintenance have. k i i i 1 1 1 ^ 1 1 '; 1 1 1 1 I i 240 TIf£ TABLE BOOK OF ART. 'Twas hers to guide me through life's early day. To point out virtue's path and lead the way. Now, while her powers in frigid languor sleep, 'Tis mine to hand her down life's rugged steep; With all her little weaknesses to bear Attentive, kind, to soothe her every care. 'Tis Nature bids, and truest pleasure flows From lessening an aged parent's woes." Cabanel's Annunciation. (Page 218.) Luke a. 8-14.. — And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them : and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them. Fear not : for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you: Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. Schofin's Paul and Virginia. (Page 222.) " Scarcely had they risen from prayer when they heard the barking of a dog. It is, said Paul, a dog belonging to some hunter, who comes at night to this lone place to lie in wait for the stags. Shortly they heard the dog bark louder. * I think,' said Virginia, ' that is Fidele, our own dog. I surely recollect his voice. Can we be so near home, at the foot of our own mountain ?' In an instant Fidele was at their feet, barking, howling, and almost overwhelming them with his caresses. They had not recovered from their surprise when they saw Domingo running towards them. At the sight of the good old negro, they were too much overcome to utter a word." — Paul and Virginia. DoRfe's The Death of Darius. (Page 226.) After the battle of Issus, Darius' — king of the Persians — camp was plundered, and his wife, mother and children fell into the hands of Alexander, who treated them with the utmost consideration and care. Now that Susa, Persepolis and all his treasures had gone into the possession of the conqueror, Darius took refuge in Ecbatana, but was seized by Bessus, the governor of Bactria, who betrayed him in his mi '"ortu -s. Both the traitor and his prisoner fled before the march of Alexander, v ' ««ned the pursuit till he came in sight of them, when they fled precipitately ; because Darius would not follow them, Bessus and those about him discharged tl. darts at: him, and left him covered with blood at the mercy of the Macedonian. AicxanHcr himself came up soon afterwards, and was much affected at seeing the king in sucu a deplorable state. He took off his own cloak and spread it over Darius, and when he died ordered the body to be embalmed and sent in a splendid coffin to Sisigambia, to be interred with the other monarchs of Persia. — Plutarch's Lives. DESCRIPTION OF STEEL AND WOOD ENGRAVINGS. 24 1 RiCHTER's TTte Tight Shoe. See text, page 221. (Page 230.) J. T. Lewis' Scene on the Schuylkill below Grey's Ferry. (Page 230.) Before the Schuylkill joins the Delaware, the Schuylkill widens to noble propor- tions, and although not nearly so much frequented as above the Fairmount Dam, is often the resort of pleasure parties who wish to avoid a crowd. Leo Hermann's A Pause in the Argument. (Page 234.) The di£:ussion on some obscure point of theology, or it may be some question of politics has occupied the two priests for sometime, and like armies in battle, they have declared a truce for a few minutes and exchange a pinch of snuff—" friends by their noses." The distant tower of the " Invalides " bespeaks the locality to be Paris which their clerical costume confirms. Kaemmerer's At the Seashore. (Page 234.) Where the sea waves ripple to the shore, and the air serene is charged with a dolcefar niente feeling. The rich costumes of the ladies and the general impression of rest imparted by the whole scene, make it a picture fit to calm the nerves of the excited, or lull to peace the unduly disturbed. The scene is at Boulogne sur mcr on the French coast. Meissonier's Flute-Player. (Page 234.) Needs no commentary. The "toot," "toot," of the flute-player is not a theme for eloquent description, but the correct drawing of the master Meissonier is simple and admirable. 'If INDEX. II m ; lis' •i *' li i I i: i '^ -I t Absolon, J. , Achftnbach, A., . Achenbach, O., . Allan, David, . Allan. William, AUegri, Antonio, . Allcm, Thomas, • AUston, Washington, Altmann.S., Andrea del Sarto, . Angclico, Fra, . Angelo, Michael, . nnsdell, R., . ' • Antigna, J. P. A., . Appian, Apelles, . . Apollodorus, Armand, Dumatesque, Armytage, Edward, Aristides, . • Asclepiodorus, . Athenion, Audubon, John J., . Ayala, Bernabe de, Barbarelli, Giorgio, Baron, H. C. A., Barrias, Felix, . Barry, James, . Tlartesago, E. « 242 PAGE. ! 321 22? 223 180 182 63 ; 188 , '95 I 221 I I 41 29 48' 221 219 I 219 9 6 219 321 9 '°, 8| >99 98 63 319 319 135 325 Bartolommeo, Fra, Bayard, A. E., Baudry, Paul, . Beard, J. K., Beavis, R., Becker, A. von, Becker, Carl, . Bellang6,Jh. H. Bellini, Gentile, Bellini, Giovanni, Bellini, Jacopo, . Belly, L. A. A., Bellows, A. F., . Benvenuti, A., Berchem, (Claas), or Nicholas Berghem, Berne — Bellecour, Bida, Alex., Bierstadt, A., . Bill6, Billings, A., Bischopp, H. C, Blake, William, Bodenmiillcr, Boldini, A., , I Bompiani, R., I Bonfield, G. R., Bonnat, L., Bonhcur, Rosa, Bougereau, W., Bossuet, F. A., PAGE. 40 319 319 304 321 319 223 163 34 34 34 219 203 32; 87 219 219 208 225 211 221 136 223 22 s 225 202 217 217 219 331 Boughton, G. H., . . Boulanger, G. R., Bracket, W., Braith, . Brandt, . . . Breton, J. A., Breughel, Jan, Breughel, Pieter (the elder), Breughel, Pieter (the younger) Bridgeman, F. A., Briscoe, Frank, Browne, H., . Brown, J. G., Brown, J. L., . . Brown, G. L., Buonarroti, Michaelangelo, Burnet, John, . . Burr, John, . . Cabanel, a., . , Cagliari, Paolo, . , Callcott, A. W., . ' Callot, Jacques, Canaletto, (Antonio Canal), Cano, Alonso, Caravaggio, Mich, da, . Carracci, Agostino, Carracci, Annibale, Carracci, Lodovico, . Casilear, J. W., , Castiglioni, G., . , Chalon, . , Champhausen, . . Champney, . , Chapman, . . . Chaplin, G., . Chintreuil, A., . , Church, Fred. E., . Cimabue, Claas, Nicholas (Berchem), Claude Lorraine, . . Claudius Pulcher, . Cogen, Felix, . . INDEX. ACE. 205 Coello, Alonzo, . 219 Cole, Vicat, 211 Col;, Thomas, . 223 Criiman, C. C, 223 Collins, William, 215 Cott, P. A., 82 Comte, P. C, . 82 Compte,-Calix, F. C, 82 Constable, John, 211 Cooke, E. W., 202 Cope, C. W., . 218 Cornelius, Peter von. 211 Corot, Jean Camille, . ii9 Correggio, (Allegri), 210 Coriona, Pietro da. 48 Courbet, Gustave, 174 Cox, David, 190 Crespi, Creswick, Thomas, 215 65 Cropsey, Cruikshank, Geo., . Curzon, »7» Cuyp, Albert, . , 107 120 Daubigny, C. F., . 98 David, Louis, . 71 Dawson, . . 68 De Heem, . , 68 Deffregger, 67 Decamps, A. G., 204 De Ciano, F. F., . 225 De Haas, 172 De Keyser, N., 223 Delaroche, Paul, , 211 Delacroix, Eugene, 210 Defaux, . . , 219 Diez, 218 De Neuville, , . 207 Dc Nittis, J. 23 Detaille, 87 Di;iz de la Pina, 105 Dionysius, (of Colophon), >3 Dionysius, (of Rome), 221 Dobson, W. T. C, 243 PAGE. 100 221 200 211 179 219 219 215 '5' 221 221 166 218 63 36 214 152 225 190 209 187 219 33 218 154 221 83 223 >63 211 211 219 158 '57 218 222 219 22c 219 218 4 '3 321 »«!' I ': i|Ii! :i I iM '' i il ! 244 INDEX. PAGE. page. Dolci, Carlo, # • • 73 Gavarni, . • t 219 Uomenichino, (Zampieri), . . 69 Gastaldi, . > • . 225 Dor6, P. G 216 Gebhardt, 223 Don, Gerard (or Dow), 86 Gel6e, Claude, • 105 Dubufe, Claude M., • 2'9 Gempt, B.te., . 221 Duran, Carolus, 219 Geromc, J. L., .213 Durer, Albrecht, . 60 Gcricault, J. L. T. A., . 157 Dyce, William, . 171 Ghiberti, Lorenzo, 27 Ghirlandajo, (Corradi), 38 Eakins, T., . 211 Gibbons, Grinling, 120 Eckhardt, . . . . . 225 Gifford, R. S., . 202 Elliot. Charles L., 201 Giorgione, (Barbarelli), • 62 Elmore, A., . . . . 221 Giotto, . 24 Etty, William, . 150 Gilbert, John, 221 Eupompus, . . 6 Goupil, Jules, . . 219 Euphranor, , • . 7 Gow, . . « , . 221 Gossaert, Jan, . . 32 Fabius Pictor, . 12 Goya y Lucientes, . . . lOI Faed, Thjs 184 Grant, F., 221 Faed, John, . . • 184 Greuze, J. Baptiste, 108 Falconer, J. M., 211 Griitzner, E., , . 222 Fantin, . . • • . 218 Guercino, (di Curto), .72 Faruflfini, 225 Gusson, . . • 223 Ferris, S J., . . 203 Guido, Reni, . 69 Fildes, S. Luke, 221 Flaxman, John, . . . .139 Haag, Carl, . , • .221 Flandriii, 163 Hall, Frank, . . , . 221 Fleury, Robert, . 214 Hals, Franz, 86 Fleury, T. R 214 Hamilton, James, 203 Fontana,R., . 225 Hammer, . • • • 225 Forbes, . . . • 211 Hamon, J. Louis, • • '64 Fortuny, Mariano, 223 Hansen, C, . 224 Foster.Birket, . . . 189 Hart, James, . 201 Fiancia, (Raibolini), 39 Hart, Wm., . . .201 Freeman, . . « • 210 Harvey, George, "83 Frere, Edouard, , « 215 Harpignies, H., . . . .218 Frith, W.P '80 Hassenclever, . , . 222-228 Fromentin, E., ■ 218 Haseltine, . . . . 210 Fuerbach, A., . . • , 222 Hausmann, . . , , 222 Fuseli, Henry, . . . • »3' 1 Haydon, Benjamin, . 147 ! Hayes, . # , . 221 Gainsborough, Thomas, 129 Healy, . . . , 210-21 1 Gallait, Louis, . 220 Hebert, . • • 219 INDEX. 245 PAGE page. Henner, J. J., . . . . 219 Knight, R., ... 211 Herkomer, H., . , 221 Koekkoek. B, C 220 Hermann, Leo, 212 Herzog, N. G 211 Laia, or Lala, 13 Hildebrandt, ; 169 Lambdin, 211 Hill 211 Lance, George, . . . 177 Hogarth, William, . 124 Lambinet, E., . 218 Holbein, Hans, (the elder), . 109 Landscer, Edwin, . . , • 175 Hulbein, Hans, (the younger), . . 109 Lalanne, 218 Hook. J. C 183 Laurens, J. P., , . 219 Homer, Winslow, . 211 Lawrence, Thomas, 142 Horsley, J. G.. . 221 Lcbrun, Charles, . . 105 Huey, .... . 219 Leech, John, 188 Hunt, B., 211 Lecomte-du-Nouy, . 219 Hunt, William H., 176 Leighton, Frederick, . 180 Huat.Wm. Holman, , 178 Lcly, Peter, (Van der Faes), . 119 Huntingdon, D , , . 206 Leonardo da Vinci, 40 Huysum, Van, 87 Leslie, Charles Robert, 196 Lcutz, E., . . 200 Induno, J., . 225 Levy, H. L., . . . . 219 Ingres, Jean Dominique, 156 Lewis, E. D., . . , 204 Innes. Geo., 205 Lewis, J. F., . , . . 186 Inman, Henry, 199 Leys, Henri, 219 Israels, J., . . , 220 Linnel, John, , . . 185 Irving, J. B., 211 Linnel, J. T 186 Isaby, Jean Baptiste. . 156 Linnel, T. G., . . 186 Linnel, W., 186 Jacques, 218 Lippi, Fra Filippo, . , 28 Jerichau, H., . . , . 225 Lindegren, . , 224 Jernberg, 224 Locher, . , ■ 225 Jones, E. B., . 2111 Luminals, E. V., , 219 Johnston, A., . • 221 Ludius, » . . . 13 Johnson, E., . . . 211 Luke (St.), 19 Jopling, Mrs 221 Joris. P • "s , Machen, . , 1 , 3It McEntce, J., . 205 K.EMMERER, . . 220 Maclisc, Daniel, , 17a Kate, M. Ten, 221 Madrazzo, 224 Kaufman, Angelica, . 140 Makart, Hans, 222 Kaulbach, Wm. Von, . . 167 Mantegna, Andrea, . 37 Kcnsett, . . . 210 Marstrand, , , , 224 Knaus, L., . . . , 222 Masaccio, . . 2/ Kneller, Godfrey, 120 Matsys, Quintin, , , , ■ 33 1 Troy on, Constantino, . Trumbull, John, . . Turner, J. M. W., Ussi, E., . . • Vanderlyn, John, Van dc Velde, Adriaan, . Van Dyck, Antony, . Van Elten, K., . . Van Eyck, Hubrecht, . PAGE. 225 175 222 169 211 189 »39 '93 201 183 181 82 82 84 203 22 I 8 211 22[ 124 224 210 10 6 10 219 64 65 58 218 169 218 193 143 225 194 86 n3 2It 31 pw mi BH I ,f v 348 Van Eyck, Jan, Van Huysiim, Jan, Van Markc, E., Van Ostade, Adriaan, Van Ostade, Isaac, Vanuccio, Pictro di, Vanuche, Andre, Vautier, B., Vcdder, E., Velasquez de Silva, Vcrnet, Emilc J. Horace, Veronese, Paul, (Cagliari Vertunni, A., . Verboeckhoven, E. J., Verhas, Jean, . Veyrassat, J. J., Vibert, J. G., . Vidal, v., . Vien, Marie J., . Volon, A., . Voltz, F., Walker, Frederick, Walker, Robert, Walters, Wappcrs, G., . Ward. H., . Ward. E. M., . Waterman. M., Watts. Geo. F., . Wattcau, A., • INDEX. PAGE. PAGE. 31 Wulffaert. H., . 221 87 Waugh, S. B., 211 218 Weber, T.. 221 86 Weber. Paul. 221 86 Weir. J. F., 211 41 Weisman, W. H.. 311 41 -West, Benjam' \ 191 232 Whistler. . SOS 210 White, J. B., . 199 88 Whittredge, 211 157 Willcms, F., . 220 66 Wilkie. David. • 147 225 Wilson, Richard, 131 220 Winner, . 211 221 Winterhalter, F, 222 219 Wright, G.. 211 219 Wolff, A.. 323 219 Worms. J., 219 154 Wouvermans, Jan, 8} 219 Wouvermans, Philip. 8j 223 Wouvermans, Pieter. . 8j 189 187 Yewell. G. H.. . 210 Yon. E. C, 219 213 221 Zamacois. Eduardo, . 224 187 Zagorsky. N.. . 223 187 Zampieri. Domenico, . 69 211 Zeim, F. P., . 218 181 Zeujjis, S 108 Zurbaran. Francisco. . 97 W i