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OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
i'nRTRAIT (tK A WOMAN," IIV KKM HRANDT. 
 Lou\ la:, i-AKis. 
 
OLD 
 DUTCH 
 
 AND 
 
 FLEMISH 
 MASTERS 
 
 ENGRAVED BY . . 
 
 TIMOTHY COLE 
 
 WITH CRITICAL NOTES BY 
 
 JOHN C. VAN DYKE 
 
 AND COMMENTS BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 H 
 
p°,Py':iglit,.l893. ■J%4, and 1895, by 
 '■■' 'tHE.'t'E'NTORY CO. 
 
 The DeVinne Press. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 THE publication of this volume requires few words of explana- 
 tion. That it contains, in permanent form, thirty wood-en- 
 gravings by Timothy Cole, after the masterpieces of Dutch 
 and Flemish art, is, in itself sufficient reason for the book's exis- 
 tence. These engravings have been produced in the same man- 
 ner, and with the same skill and care, that characterized Mr. Cole's 
 earlier engravings after the old Italian masters. Indeed, it was the 
 success of the Italian work that led to his undertaking the pres- 
 ent series. Directly after completing his work in Italy, Mr. Cole 
 was asked by the managers of The Century to go to Holland 
 and undertake the translation of the great Dutchmen. In 1S92 he 
 removed from Italy to Amsterdam, where he remained for a year, 
 engraving the pictures chosen for reproduction from the Holland 
 galleries. He then went back to Paris, where he has remained up 
 to the present time, working from the Dutch and Flemish pictures 
 in the Louvre and elsewhere. 
 
 In every instance Mr. Cole has produced his engraving with the 
 original picture before him, the photograph being thrown upon the 
 block and its insufficiencies or inequalities being corrected by con- 
 sulting the original. In this way absolute fidelity to the original has 
 been obtained, not only in line and in modeling, but in giving the 
 exact values of colors under light and under shadow. In deter- 
 mining the truth of a form, a light, or a tone, Mr. Cole's long ex- 
 perience has made him an expert, and though passing from Italy to 
 Holland, — a change from line to color, — he has easily adapted him- 
 self to the new point of view, and has interpreted the new methods 
 with the same artistic sympathy that marked his former work. If 
 his engravings gave only faithful reproductions of the originals as 
 
 ^ 962550 
 
VI PREFACE 
 
 seen by the average eye they would be welcome ; but when to this 
 are added Mr. Cole's insight into the spirit of the originals, his 
 observation of suggested meanings, his interpretation of vague, 
 half-hidden tones, their value is greatly increased. 
 
 There is another reason for the publication of these engravings, 
 one held in view by the originators of the first series. It seems 
 fitting and proper that a knowledge of Dutch art should be spread 
 through the land by just such reproductions as these. People to- 
 day, though they do not sneer at Dutch art, are far from estimating 
 it at its true worth. They cherish ideals and academic formulas of 
 the beautiful, and are only too prone to overlook that truth, char- 
 acter, wholesome picturesqueness, and surprising skill for which 
 Dutch art is famous. Even with those who profess a love for the 
 Dutchmen, there is a tendency to elevate Dou above Hals and 
 Potter above Cuyp. In brief, while people have been studying 
 Greek and Italian art for years, the art of the Netherlands has been 
 comparatively neglected, and to-day is not at all well understood, 
 except by the few. The engravings of Mr. Cole, then, are oppor- 
 tune, in that they furnish materials for study. In the absence of 
 the originals, which for various reasons the majority of people will 
 never see, nothing could be better designed to take their place 
 than these admirable reproductions. 
 
 The pictures from which the engravings have been made were 
 selected with the aim of giving the work of the representative men 
 in Dutch and Flemish art. It was necessary, on account of the great 
 extent of the Netherlands art, that a period only should be given, 
 and so the brilliant painting of the seventeenth century furnished 
 the originals for the engravings. The text that accompanies 
 them, and Mr. Cole's comments, are intended to explain this seven- 
 teenth-century art. and to give some account of the history of the 
 schools, and of the individual painters whose works are engraved. 
 
 John C. Van Dyke. 
 Rutgers College, 1895. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A Note on Dutch Art i 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 Frans Hals 17 
 
 CHAPTER H 
 Rembrandt , 29 
 
 CHAPTER HI 
 Ferdinand Bol 45 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 Covert Flinck 53 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 Nicolaes Maes 59 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 Bartholomeus van der Helst 6^ 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 Gerard Dou Ti 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 Gerard Terburg 79 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 Gabriel Metsu 87 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 Adriaan van Ostade 93 
 
 vll 
 
Vlll CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 PACE 
 
 Jan Steen loi 
 
 CHAPTER Xn 
 PiETER DE Hooch 109 
 
 CHAPTER Xni 
 Jan ver Meer of Delft 115 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 Jacob van Ruisdael 121 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 Meyndert Hobbema 131 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 Paul Potter 137 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 Aelbert Cuyp 14s 
 
 A Note on Flemish Art 153 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 Peter Paul Rubens 163 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 Anthony van Dyck 177 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 David Teniers, the Younger 189 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Rembrandt, Portrait of a Woman Frontispiece 
 
 Louvre, Paris. 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 Hals, The Jester 17 
 
 Ryks Museum, Amsterdam. 
 
 Hals, Banquet of the Officers of the Corps of the Arch- 
 ers OF St. Andrew 20 
 
 Municipal Museum, Haarlem. 
 
 Hals, The Jolly Man 24 
 
 Ryks Museum, Amsterdam. 
 
 Rembrandt, The Night- Watch (Detail from central portion) . . 29 
 
 Ryks Museum, Amsterdam. 
 
 Rembrandt, A Philosopher in Meditation 32 
 
 Louvre, Paris. 
 
 Rembrandt, Supper at Emmaus (Detail of head of the Christ). . 36 
 
 Louvre, Paris. 
 
 Rembrandt, The Supper at Emmaus 4° 
 
 LouvTe, Paris. 
 
 BoL, Portrait of a Man 48 
 
 Louvre, Paris. 
 
 Flinck, Portrait of a Young Girl 54 
 
 Louvre, Paris. 
 
 Maes, The Spinner 60 
 
 Ryks Museum, Amsterdam. 
 
 Van der Helst, Portrait of Paul Potter 68 
 
 The Hague Museum. 
 
 Dou, The Night-School 7^ 
 
 Ryks Museum, Amsterdam. 
 
X LIST OF ILLUSTRATION'S 
 
 FAQNG PAGE 
 
 Terburg, The Lute Player 80 
 
 Cassel Gallery. 
 
 Metsu, Un Militaire recevaxt uxe jeune Dame 88 
 
 Lou\Te, Paris. 
 
 Ostade, The Fish Market 96 
 
 Lou\Te, Paris. 
 
 Steex, The Feast of St. Nicholas 104 
 
 Ryks Museum, Amsterdam. 
 
 De Hooch, The Buttery. no 
 
 Ryks Museum, Amsterdam. 
 
 Ver Meer of Delft, Portrait of a Lady 116 
 
 National Gallery, London. 
 
 RuiSDAEL, The Thicket ' 124 
 
 Louvre, Paris. 
 
 HoBBEMA, The Avenue, Middelharnis, Holland 132 
 
 National Gallery, London. 
 
 Potter, The Young Bull 140 
 
 The Hague Museum. 
 
 CuYP, Landscape 148 
 
 Lou\Te, Paris. 
 
 Rubens, Helen Fourment and her Children 164 
 
 Loa^Te, Paris. 
 
 Rubens, Chapeau de Faille 168 
 
 National Gallery, London. 
 
 Rubens, Portrait of Jacqueline de Cordes 172 
 
 Brussels Museum. 
 
 Van Dvck, Portrait of a Lady and her Daughter .... 178 
 
 Lou\Te, Paris. 
 
 Van Dvck, The Madonna of the Donors 180 
 
 Louvre, Paris. 
 
 Van Dvck, Portrait of Richardot and his Sox 182 
 
 Louvre, Paris. 
 
 Teniers the Younger, Afternoon 190 
 
 Antwerp Museum. 
 
OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH 
 
 MASTERS 
 
 A NOTE ON DUTCH ART 
 
 IT is amusing, in looking over the histories of Dutch art, to find 
 them all agreeing upon one point. The writers are willing to 
 admit for themselves and the world at large that the Dutch 
 painters were not idealists, and that they were "lacking in the 
 sense of beauty." That profoundly empty individual, Louis XIV., 
 was probably one of the first to discover this lack. To one of his 
 classic descent and Olympian aspiration, to one who emulated Csesar 
 and yet went to battle in a coach and six, the homely faces and 
 humble scenes of Dutch life and art must have appeared very low 
 and trivial. " Eloignez de moi ces magots! " The remark is so expres- 
 sive that it should be preserved. To be sure it does not convey 
 anything but Louis's disgust; yet by having his opinion of what 
 displeased him, we can imagine what might be his preference in 
 art. He liked the mock-heroic warriors of Lebrun, the flattering 
 impersonations of Rigaud, the insipid gods and goddesses of Coy- 
 pel. They reminded him of the classic glories of Greece and 
 Rome. They were ideal, heroic, something to aspire to ; and 
 doubtless during his life he more than once explained the mat- 
 ter to his court by saying that his painters were possessed of 
 "the sense of beauty." 
 
 It depends altogether upon what is meant by " beauty," whether 
 Louis and the art-writers are right in saying that the Dutch paint- 
 ers lacked it. If they are following Winckelmann's conclusion, 
 that "the essence of beauty is in shape" — and that is precisely what 
 they are doing — then they are right if Winckelmann is right. There 
 
'•2 : -v. . '■ OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 is little "shape" in Dutch art. The brow of Jove, the straight 
 Greek nose, the Cupid's-bow mouth, the Apollo form, do not ap- 
 pear. The Dutch lacked them ; they did not know them except at 
 second-hand, and they never truly cared for them. Were they 
 then lacking in beauty, or were they merely lacking in the sym- 
 metry and proportion of the classic type ? It has been many years 
 since the classic arrogated to itself all the beauty of art. Winckel- 
 mann has been followed without question into modern times; but 
 now the narrowness of his view is becoming apparent. Beauty 
 does consist in shape, form, symmetry, proportion, so far as these 
 produce pleasurable sensations. But are pleasurable sensations 
 aroused by shape, form, symmetry, proportion, only? Decidedly 
 no. Beauty cannot be defined in an objective way, because it is 
 produced not by one thing, but by many things. We can judge 
 it only by its effect upon the emotions. Whatever emotionally 
 moves one may be beautiful, whether it have symmetrical shape or 
 not, and whether it can be squared with esthetic definitions or not. 
 To modern eyes there is nothing so pleasing in pictorial or 
 plastic art as the recognized fitness of things to designed ends. 
 The Coleoni statue at Venice — what has it of symmetry or propor- 
 tion ? Nothing. It has been sneered at by followers of Winck- 
 elmann for years for that very reason ; yet Coleoni still rides in 
 bronze to-day, perhaps the finest equestrian statue in all Europe. 
 It lives, and will live, as great art because of the fitness to designed 
 ends of both horse and rider. The horse is of a different breed 
 from the light prancing horse of the Parthenon frieze. He carries 
 a heavy mailed warrior instead of a naked Greek youth ; he is not 
 meant for flight, but for pushing power. The warrior carries a 
 short sword, not a lance ; he stubbornly fights, trusting to mail 
 and shield to parry blows ; he does not trust to the dash here, the 
 flight there, and everywhere adroitness, quickness, skill. The war- 
 fare in Gothic Italy was different from the warfare in classic Greece. 
 That which availed in Coleoni's time was power and weight. Now 
 look at the statue, and see how well Verrocchio understood that ! 
 How well fitted are horse and rider to their purpose! The pushing 
 strength, the bulk, the mass, are all there. Could any armed force 
 withstand them ? " How full of character ! " one exclaims. Pre- 
 cisely so. It is that character which may be defined as fitness to a 
 designed end, that makes the statue beautiful — makes it a great 
 work of art. 
 
A NOTE ON DUTCH ART 3 
 
 From Venice one should go to Mantua and see the heads by 
 Mantegna in the Gonzaga family group. The proportions of the 
 Greek ideal are certainly not given here. The heads are far from 
 the perfect oval. The foreheads are either too narrow or too broad, 
 the noses are abnormally long, the mouths abnormally large, the 
 jaws abnormally square. We should call them ugly people in the 
 life. Yet how calm they look, how honest, how sincere, for all 
 their lack of facial proportion ! They are the amalgamated faces 
 of the East and the West — faces that show war and clash and 
 tumult, faces that show diplomacy and cunning, faces that are 
 beginning to light up with the intelligence of the Renaissance. 
 They may be seen again on the medals of Vittore Pisano and the 
 busts of Donatello, stern, silent, and severe. How full of char- 
 acter they are ! How fitted are they to impersonate the man 
 of rule in the fifteenth century ! And who shall say they do not 
 stir the emotions to look at them ? And who shall say they are 
 not beautiful ? 
 
 When you are in Paris go to the Louvre, and see " The 
 Gleaners," by Millet. The figures are popular, and yet they have 
 no beauty of " shape " ; they are far removed from the classic. 
 The faces are stolid and sadly bronzed, the forms are heavy to 
 clumsiness, the graceful rhythm of the female figure is lost in gross 
 muscular bulk, the hands and feet are coarse, almost misshapen. 
 There is a lack of symmetry and proportion. Yet consider how 
 this heavy figure, which counts best as a spot of color on the land- 
 scape, was made heavy by this very toil. It has developed and 
 adapted itself to the conditions under which it was compelled to 
 exist. The coarse hand and foot have been produced by contact 
 with the soil ; the bulk and girth of form have been brought about 
 by bending, lifting, carrying, day by day and year by year; the 
 bronzed skin has been caused by exposure to wind, rain, sun, and 
 dust. Gradually the figure has accommodated itself to the circum- 
 stances until at last we see again a fitness to a designed end. 
 How perfectly they belong to the soil ! How perfectly with stubble, 
 stacks, harvesters, and warm sky they belong to the landscape ! 
 Chameleon-like, their very coloring seems complementary to the 
 scene. And is not all this beautiful in spite of lack in classic sym- 
 metry and proportion ? Certainly the world is now agreed in 
 thinking so. And that which makes it beautiful is its sublime truth 
 of character. Take these three peasant women from the scene, and 
 
4 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 substitute three classic women by David, Ingres, or Cabanel, and 
 the picture would appear absurd. And why, since these academi- 
 cians would have symmetry and shape ? Because the character of 
 the scene would be burlesqued, the fitness to a designed end would 
 be destroyed. 
 
 When one goes to Holland, to study the pictured portraits of 
 that land and its people, he should take with him no classic or 
 academic notions of art. He should forget all about the arts of 
 Greece and Italy, and banish the dogmas of their commentators. 
 He is going to a place where they were unknown, or at the least, 
 disregarded. Latin prejudices in Amsterdam would be almost as 
 much out of place as in Tokio. The error should not be made of 
 judging Dutch pictures by classic rules. They are to be judged 
 by their own rules. Instead of looking for the essence of beauty 
 in shape, one should look for it in fitness and character. These 
 people should be thought of in connection with their land. Cli- 
 mate, soil, and sea, the necessities of their existence, made them 
 what they were. A plain, honest, matter-of-fact race, fond of peace 
 and quietude and homely joys, doing with patience whatever their 
 hand found to do, they lived no Arcadian life of free, open-air en- 
 joyment fitted to develop the imaginative in mind and the beautiful 
 in form. The realities of life were overpowering. They fought 
 the sea for freedom of foot, they fought the Church and the Span- 
 iard for freedom of mind and of body. Their victories impoverished 
 rather than enriched them. The land and the sea were left them 
 to develop — a narrow, low-lying land of dikes and dunes and 
 meadows, a misty and mournful sea, and a treacherous footpath 
 of commerce. The commercial necessities of existence produced 
 the seaports of Holland, the canals, the odd rambling streets, the 
 quaint houses, the picturesque gables, eaves, and nooks, the tavern 
 interiors with smoked rafters ; the agricultural conditions produced 
 the meadow, the pond, the grazing cattle, the windmill, the strag- 
 gling village. There was much material here to encourage local 
 fancy and quaint picturesque conceits, but little to develop a far- 
 reaching imagination. The home product of such surroundings 
 could not be the poet, the orator, the philosopher, the great de- 
 signer. Instead of these, commerce produced the merchant and 
 the syndic, wars the cavalier and the civic guard, country life the 
 burly peasant, and city life the burgher and the tavern brawler. 
 There are orades from high to low in this Holland life, but the 
 
A NOTE ON DUTCH ART 5 
 
 type is substantially the same. Sturdy of mind and of body, the 
 Dutchman is not elegant or refined. His physical training has 
 never developed height or grace. He walks little, sits much, drinks 
 largely, and becomes stout, heavy, red-faced. His mental training 
 has made him keen, practical in business matters, devoted to gain- 
 ing the physical comforts of life. He does not nurse visions in re- 
 ligion, politics, poetry, or art. He calls for the common sense of 
 things, and cares little for idealities. Obviously, as Fromentin has 
 observed, there was nothing in art for such a people but to have 
 its portrait painted. Dutch art is only a portrait of Holland and 
 its people. 
 
 Look, now, at the Dutch pictures, and see how truly and hon- 
 estly this portrait has been painted. Take an extreme example — 
 Ostade's " Fish-Market," engraved by Mr. Cole. Objection may 
 be made to the subject, but it is not more ill-favored than the fish- 
 markets of Venice ; objection may be made to the people, but they 
 are very like Millet's peasants. The picture is a page in the biog- 
 raphy of Holland. It tells of a source of wealth, of an occupation 
 of many people, of streets and buildings and inhabitants in the 
 market quarters. It is the character portrait of one class of people 
 painted large. The crowded little square, the shove and push of 
 hawkers, servants, fishwives, idle boys about the stalls, how truly 
 they are all given ! And that man seated at the bench, with his 
 coarse, slimy hands, red face, short squat figure, and heavy clothing, 
 how well fitted and designed he is to sell fish ! He has handled 
 them so long that he belongs to them, and knows nothing about 
 other things. He even looks fishy in the face, and resembles fish in 
 color, so that the transition from the one to the other is slight. 
 Then that ail-askew shed of a house, with its dingy color, and that 
 misty good-fishing-day sky ! How complete the whole picture, and 
 how positively the character of the scene is struck off! This biog- 
 rapher is no writer of fiction. He tells the truth, knowing full well 
 what he has to say and saying it positively. 
 
 Another phase of life is met with in "Junker Ramp and his 
 Sweetheart," by Frans Hals. The young gallant in the tavern 
 affecting the soldier, gorgeous in hat and plume, ruffs and doublet, 
 carousinsf and sincrinor with his sweetheart cling-incr to him. The 
 very action of the arm and hand holding the glass, the reel back- 
 ward of the figure, the flush and the tightly-drawn skin of the 
 laughing face, are all intensely told. That boisterous pair, how 
 
6 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 well they typify a certain class of tavern habitues ! It may 
 be thouorht, perhaps, that there are no other classes in Holland 
 than these, that all the people are peasants, fishmongers, or 
 tavern carousers ; but look once at Metsu's picture of an interior, 
 with a young officer, and a young lady receiving him. Pleased, 
 quiet, dignified, wearing her rich garments easily, she sits lightly 
 holding a glass of wine in her hand ; while he standing, a little en- 
 cumbered by his heavy boots and military accoutrements, bends 
 gallantly forward, hat in hand, to greet her. At the back a boy 
 — a refined yet boyish boy — holds a dish with fruit. The room 
 is rich in furnishings, and shows the domicile of the higher classes. 
 Here is another transcript from Dutch life. It is of the more 
 refined order, and yet true, characteristic, biographical. These 
 people are well fitted for their station in life, they bear their man- 
 ners easily, they have always been accustomed to the drawing- 
 room. They were born in society, and never had to struggle into 
 it from without. The young woman's breeding shows in her hands 
 and in her face ; the young man's ancestors were officers of the 
 guard before him. Perhaps these ancestors laid aside the sword 
 and pike in middle life to become wealthy merchants. One may 
 fancy he sees their portraits at Amsterdam in the "Syndics of the 
 Cloth Hall," by Rembrandt. Great types of the Dutch race, 
 shrewd, earnest, full of character if a little gross in flesh from good 
 living, they are grouped about a table covered with a gorgeous 
 red cloth. They have been consulting about a matter of business ; 
 the books are open before them. Some one enters, and they all 
 look up. The portraits are caught at a glance. And what splen- 
 did portraits they are! The physical presence alone — the blood, 
 bone, and sinew — is imposing. And how steadfastly, unflinchingly 
 they look out from the canvas ! There is no great spirituality 
 about them ; they are merchants, not poets or pietists, and yet 
 what splendid embodiments of the Dutch burgher! Here is the 
 final word in fitness and character, the supremely telling portrait 
 of Dutch life. 
 
 II 
 
 Yet was Rembrandt confined in his art to the externals — 
 to flesh, and cloth, and light, and space ? Did he see nothing of 
 the spiritual ? Did he know nothing of human emotion, passion, 
 
A NOTE ON DUTCH ART 7 
 
 feeling? Had he nothing of the psychological about him? A 
 glance at the head of the Christ in the " Supper at Emmaus " will 
 tell us. Never a face in the art of the East or the West contained 
 more pathos, more suffering, more mute mental agony, than this 
 face of a poor, mean Amsterdam Jew impersonating the Christ. 
 Not in scriptural scenes alone did he show this passionate power. 
 In the National Gallery, London, there is a portrait of an old woman, 
 with a lace cap and a white ruff (No. 775 of the catalogue). The 
 face is wrinkled and worn, the eyes deep-set, red as though with 
 weeping, and gazing sadly out. At first, one is inclined to think 
 the sadness of the face is produced by the physical marks of age ; 
 but study the expressive chin, the quivering mouth, the contracted, 
 careworn brow, and then look into the eyes, and you will see, or 
 you will imagine, that they are filled with tears. It is more than 
 pathetic ; it is tragic. That homely Dutch face masks, and yet 
 reveals, the sorrow and the suffering common to all humanity, the 
 weight of woe that excites sympathy, and makes all the world kin. 
 Therein Rembrandt was world-embracing ; therein his art became 
 universal ; therein he told not Dutch character alone, but world 
 character. 
 
 Rembrandt was about the only one who extended Dutch art 
 beyond the dikes and dunes. The genius and feeling of the man 
 meet with a response from all lands, because he told the great 
 truths of life common to all peoples and races. In that respect he 
 was Shaksperian. But his contemporaries and followers, the 
 mass of Dutch painters, told only the truths peculiar to Holland. 
 Theirs was a local art, speaking for Holland and its people, but 
 for little beyond them. Their work was self-contained rather 
 than comprehensive ; episodic rather than historic. This is quite 
 apparent in the Dutch choice of subject. We have been told that, 
 with the Reformation and the freedom of the Netherlands, there 
 was no longer any use for church pictures, and that the religious 
 subject failed. This is true only in part. The Church in Holland 
 never was a patron of art in an Italian sense. It never, so far as 
 history acquaints us, called for the architectural composition and 
 the frescoed wall. Fresco was not the medium of the Dutch ; the 
 climate was too damp for it. The churches were not like the 
 Italian churches, and the painter was no coadjutor of the archi- 
 tect in filling space with architectural lines. He followed the oil 
 medium of the Van Eycks, painted upon panel or canvas, and 
 
8 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 never got beyond an altarpiece. The demand for these, even, 
 was sHght. Hence, in spite of the ItaHan imitation of the sixteenth 
 century, and the bringing baclc to Holland of Italian work, the 
 Dutch ot the succeeding century never learned to compose or 
 handle the large religious, classic, or historical picture. There 
 was little call for it, and the painters did not produce it. The 
 nearest approach to it was the large-grouped picture, showing 
 faculties of surgery, regents, syndics, shooting companies, and the 
 like. But this was merely the portrait elaborated and extended ; 
 something biographical again, rather than historical. It had no 
 architectural significance, and hung in town hall, hospital, or uni- 
 versity like any other portrait picture. The few successes and the 
 many failures with even this subject show how poorly the Dutch 
 comprehended the large composition. 
 
 The greatest demand upon the painter came from the wealthy 
 private citizen, and he called primarily for the single portrait. 
 The painting of this necessitated a following of the model and a 
 giving of the realistic likeness. The whole training of the Dutch 
 school seems to have been based upon portraiture, and it was in 
 this department that the very best efforts were revealed. The 
 natural tendency of such a training was to develop a keen sense 
 of observation, and a scrupulous exactness in giving the truth of 
 fact. Hence, there sprang up painters who, with few e.xceptions, 
 were observers rather than thinkers ; men of trained eyes, quick to 
 see every line, and light, and color ; men of trained hands, who 
 could record what they saw with unerring certainty; but not men 
 of great reflective or imaginative disposition. " Realists " they 
 have been called, though the word should only be used to define 
 them as painters who followed the model, and recorded what they 
 saw with such truth as they could command. 
 
 Next to the portrait, the demand was for small pictures that 
 should decorate the home. The subject most pleasing was then, 
 as to-day in Europe and America, the contemporary theme show- 
 ing the manners and customs of the people. The Dutch had 
 a proper respect for their own, and were not at all disposed to 
 blush for their national life. They did not boast of it in large 
 military pieces and naval engagements. They pictured fights, but 
 they were usually tavern brawls. Wouverman painted what were 
 called battles, but they were only tavern brawls on horseback. 
 Their chief subjects were the tavern interior, the streets, the 
 
A NOTE ON DUTCH ART 9 
 
 markets, the outlying village, with small figures. Hence came 
 into vogue the genre picture. The Dutch have been credited with 
 originating the genre picture; but that is, perhaps, the result of a 
 misunderstanding. The meaning of that word is misinterpreted. 
 It does not necessarily mean the painting of commonplace subjects, 
 low life, streets, and interiors. Watteau and Meissonier were 
 genre painters, yet they never painted low life. The word does 
 not, or, at the least, should not, apply to a kind of painting, but to 
 a method of treatment. The Italians were figure-painters, because 
 in their pictures the figure was predominant, and the landscape, or 
 whatever background they used, was subordinated. For the sake 
 of conciseness, we may say that they painted figures with a back- 
 ground. The Dutch were genre painters in that they reversed the 
 practice of the Italians. The figure was not predominant, nor the 
 background subordinated. The scene was conceived and painted 
 all of a piece. If an antithetical statement is necessary, it may be 
 said that instead of painting figures with a background, they; 
 painted a background with figures. To give the proportions and 
 sense of space in their landscapes, interiors, or street scenes, they 
 had to reduce the proportions of the figures. Hence, we find the 
 figures usually given much less than life size, as in the interiors of 
 De Hooch, Terburg, and Ver Meer of Delft. This is genre 
 painting, but it was not originated in Holland. It was known to 
 some of the Italians, especially the Venetians ; but the Dutch were 
 the first to accept it as a national form of expression. 
 
 When the background was made to do service for the whole 
 picture, the figure was still further reduced to a mere spot of color, 
 counting for no more in the scene than a post, a tree, a rock, or a 
 cow. It is thus we have represented street and town pieces by 
 Van der Heyden, landscapes by Ruisdael, Hobbema, and Cuyp, 
 shore pieces by Van Goyen and Van der Capelle. All these sub- 
 jects were handled by the Dutch painters, and their training as 
 observers of the model led them, almost invariably, to give the ex- 
 act linear and aerial importance of each object depicted, whether 
 it was a man, a chair, a building, or a tree. Their method of see- 
 ing was not arbitrary, but justly natural, in that it comprehended 
 nature as a whole, unemphasized in any part. That. they did empha- 
 size, at times, certain features, such as figures or cattle, is true; 
 but this was not so much the result of their observation as of 
 their method of lighting. 
 
lO OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 III 
 
 It was in workmanship that the Dutch were preeminently strong. 
 The skilled eye and the trained hand were theirs, and as masters in 
 the craft of painting they have never been excelled. Was it Sir 
 Joshua who said that the style of Steen " might become even the 
 design of Raphael ? " The quotation will at least serve to point 
 the distinction between the Italians and the Dutch. Raphael was 
 a ijreat artist, a thinker of imagination, a draftsman fillinsj archi- 
 tectural space with composed lines. Steen was no great thinker, 
 draftsman, or composer ; he was simply a master-workman with 
 the brush. Like all the Dutch painters, he was trained in the 
 knowledge of materials and methods. He knew the technic of 
 his craft, and wrought understandingly. Perfect workmanship Avas 
 the sign-manual of the whole school, and yet this should not be 
 construed to mean that this workmanship always gave the abso- 
 lutely realistic appearance. The Dutch were no such realists. 
 They knew that painting was a conventionality, and they frankly 
 acknowledged it in their pictures. They followed nature as far as 
 their materials would allow, but they always had a shrewd notion 
 that there was a point where nature left off and art began. They 
 were abundantly aware of the fact that they were picture-makers, 
 not map-makers; and, like many other painters, they did not hesi- 
 tate to distort nature for pictorial effect. 
 
 This distortion appears prominently in one feature, for the truth- 
 ful rendering of which the Dutch have been superabundantly and 
 undeservedly praised — I mean the feature of light. They understood 
 it as a conventionality of art, a means of gaining relief, and they so 
 employed it; but, barring a few exceptional men, they did not un- 
 derstand it as a great truth of nature. They knew how to handle it 
 in spots, to throw it here and there in a picture, and thus to brighten 
 dark corners ; but light as a uniform illumination over a whole 
 scene, not even Rembrandt quite comprehended. The long dispute 
 over the so-called " Night Watch," as to whether it represented 
 night or day, is in itself proof of something wrong in its lighting. 
 The effect of a general illumination is wanting. In its place we 
 have an arbitrary mass of shadow over the whole scene, with flashes 
 from something like a gig-lamp illuminating it here and there in or- 
 der to bring into relief certain prominent figures. The beautiful 
 
A NOTE ON DUTCH ART II 
 
 picture by De Hooch, "The Buttery," which Mr. Cole has en- 
 graved, is another case to the point. The lighting of the figures, 
 and of the screen or wall back of them, is arbitrary. The light is sup- 
 posed to come from somewhere in the foreground, but that illumi- 
 nation is not enough for the painter. The little closet at the left 
 has a flash thrown through it to illuminate that portion of the pic- 
 ture, and the room at the right has again another illumination. 
 This is all very knowingly and cleverly done, and it gives one the 
 feeling that there is bright sunlight without that is trying to steal 
 in at every door and window ; but it nevertheless points to the 
 Dutch use of light in spots and points rather than in large masses. 
 In open-air scenes, in streets, and in landscapes, they were much 
 better ; yet even here there is a management of light that has an 
 affinity with the candle-light effects of Dou and Schalken. Rem- 
 brandt darkens his upper sky and darkens his foreground for the 
 sole purpose of driving his light into a spot of the central sky ; 
 and Cuyp is very fond of the dark side of a mountain in his fore- 
 ground, beyond which light is seen pouring diagonally into the 
 middle distance. One of the best Cuyps in existence, the " Land- 
 ing of Prince Maurice," in Bridgewater House, is marred by a 
 shadow drawn across the foreground in order to increase the 
 power of the light beyond it. 
 
 It can hardly be thought that the Dutch lost much by this arbi- 
 trary lighting. They sacrificed a truth of nature, but they gained 
 a force in art. The sharp light made possible great relief; the 
 deep shadow lent itself readily to atmospheric effect, to sugges- 
 tion, and to mystery. An arbitrary practice it was, but, neverthe- 
 less, a potent means of expression. That its range was limited is 
 true. It could be applied to the portrait, to the small interior with 
 few figures, or to the small picture of any kind with powerful effect; 
 but the large historical canvas was beyond its scope. Such light- 
 ing was incompatible with composed lines and many groups. The 
 central illumination, handled as the Dutch handled it, was not ra- 
 diant enough to carry over a large scene. The sides and top of 
 the picture fell into great masses of shadow, as in the " Night 
 Watch," and these had to be illumined by repeated spots of light. 
 The result was a lack of tone, a feeling of spottiness on the canvas, 
 and a disjointed composition. Such, generally speaking, was the 
 historical canvas in the hands of these painters. Whether a lack 
 of demand for the large canvas produced a lack of knowledge with 
 
12 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 the painters, or whether their method of illumination was against it 
 from the start, is not worth speculating over. The fact is, it was 
 not a success. The painters were not in sympathy with it, and they 
 did not usually produce it. What they did produce was the single 
 figure, the genre picture, the landscape with catde, the still-life. 
 
 In charm of color the painters of Holland, in their way, were 
 again quite unexcelled. Their work should not be seriously con- 
 sidered for its linear composition. It is primarily an art, revealing 
 the sentiment of color, light, and shade. They composed a picture 
 by massing these. Moreover, their pictures were painted primarily 
 to reveal these beauties. A material aim it may be thought, but 
 no more so than the necessities of picture-making required. And 
 it is necessary to repeat that the Dutch were picture-makers. In 
 painting a portrait they were, of course, concerned with the truth 
 of likeness, dignity, carriage, character ; in painting a group, a 
 cattle piece, a landscape, they were again intensely concerned with 
 the exact truth of character, but that never made them forgetful of 
 the truth of art in color, light, and decorative effect. The religious, 
 literary, or story-telling side of painting did not usually interest 
 them. "A Woman at a Window," by Ver Meer; "A Dutch 
 Interior," by De Hooch; "A Drinking Party," by Steen, speak 
 only of the physical presence. When Ostade scatters people 
 through a room he is not interested in their being there for an 
 anecdotal purpose ; he cares little what story they tell. They are 
 usually unrelated in their occupations, and about the only feature 
 that binds them together is a technical feature — the relation of 
 color, light, and shade. He is seeking always the pictorial rather 
 than the literary ; making a picture rather than telling a story. 
 
 And yet, the Dutch must not be regarded as mere surface paint- 
 ers, brilliantly as they painted the surface. They had an abun- 
 dance of sentiment and feeling; but, unlike the English painters, 
 they did not display these in their subjects. They displayed them 
 in their color, light, and methods of expression. Here is the chief 
 reason why the Dutch pictures have never been popular with the 
 world's masses. People see little sentiment in the faces and actions, 
 and speedily conclude that the whole art is gross and sensual. But 
 there never was finer artistic feeling shown in art than in the 
 pictures l)y these Dutchmen. They grew emotional over bursts of 
 light, sympathetic over color harmonies, mysterious in shadow 
 masses, and their handling of the brush shows with what delight 
 
A NOTE ON DUTCH ART I3 
 
 they caressed this or that feature of detail. They loved the work 
 for the work's sake, and this love is apparent in their pictures. It 
 has been said that they distorted light for a pictorial effect and it 
 may be said that they sometimes distorted color for an harmonious 
 effect. Cuyp and De Hooch are perhaps too brilliant for the actual 
 truth of the Netherlands, and Ruisdael and Hobbema are certainly 
 not brilliant enough. Yet poetic feeling gave them license in these 
 matters, and it was deep sentiment and love of harmonious rela- 
 tions that caused the distortion. The painters could not express 
 their poetry of shadow and color in any other way. That there is a 
 poetry of color, light, and space, no one, at this day, thinks of 
 denying. The Dutch possessed it, and the Dutch picture will be 
 found a poem of depth and earnestness if it be looked at as a pic- 
 torial poem. It is not a literary poem. 
 
 In brief the Dutch painters loved character, fitness, honesty, 
 truth. They were not ashamed of their own people and civilization, 
 and they wrote the pictorial history of their time with frankness and 
 candor. Picturesqueness, rather than symmetry and proportion, was 
 their inheritance from nature, and this they produced with charming 
 results. In point of view they always regarded a scene more for its 
 appearance than for its meaning, and hence their art must be judged 
 more by what it looks than by what it means. It was, as a whole, 
 a local art, reflective only of Holland, and yet, within its scope, as 
 sincere an art as that of Italy, and as perfect in every detail of 
 craftsmanship as that of Japan. It is the autobiography of a self- 
 contained people, who in peace, in war, in commerce, in art, have 
 maintained their own with honesty and integrity. It is an auto- 
 biography that no world-student can afford to leave unread. 
 
FRANS HALS 
 
I CuLE r,!r.o )v\"-' . . 
 
 'THE JKSTEK," I'.V FRANS HALS. 
 
 K\KS MUbl'UM. AMblEUUAM. 
 
Chapter I 
 
 FRANS HALS 
 
 (i58o?-i666) 
 
 IN the fifteenth century there was no art in Holland that dis- 
 tinctly spoke for the land or the people. The nation had not 
 yet declared itself. The Burgundian dukes were in power, 
 and, though encouraging commerce, letters, and arts, they were be- 
 stowing most of their favors upon Flanders. Holland was merely 
 a northern province treated with some contempt. In art, the Van 
 Eycks, with the schools of Bruges and Brabant, led the way, and 
 the painters at the north did little more than follow them. In the 
 sixteenth century the Flemish painters, especially those of the Ant- 
 werp school, fell under foreign influence. Their own art was ap- 
 parently not to their taste, for shoals of artists put off to Italy, 
 there to study, assimilate, and imitate the subjects and methods of 
 the Italian masters of the Renaissance. The example of Flanders 
 was contagious in Holland, and again the northern painters fol- 
 lowed. But toward the end of the sixteenth century Holland threw 
 off the Spanish yoke, gaining thereby political freedom; and shortly 
 afterward her painters threw off the Flemish-Italian yoke, and be- 
 came Dutch in method and spirit. In the last quarter of the cen- 
 tury Mierevelt, Ravesteyn, and Frans Hals were born, and with 
 them, at the opening of the seventeenth century, began the great 
 period of Dutch art. 
 
 The apprenticeship to Flanders and Italy had not been wasted 
 time or labor. The Dutch had learned color and handling from 
 the one, drawing and some composition from the other ; so that, 
 almost at the start, we find the accomplished craftsman, the man 
 skilled in methods and materials, the painter versed in form, color. 
 
l8 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 and handling. Frans Hals is one of the earliest, and, perhaps, the 
 most remarkable instance of the craftsman in all Dutch art. It is 
 not often that the early man of a school speaks the latest and most 
 mature language of that school. The idea is usually the first 
 strong utterance; the style is the result of improved training and 
 is more often seen in the late representatives. But Frans Hals 
 reversed all this. He was practically the founder of Dutch paint- 
 ing, yet he realized to the full the Dutch idea and subject, and that, 
 too, with a style that is astonishing in its cultured maturity. In 
 method and in manner, in technical expression, and in the skill of 
 the craftsman, he stands at the head of his school. There never was 
 a better painter in any school. 
 
 Hals was primarily a master workman, and it has been said 
 that he was nothing beyond that ; but this latter statement should 
 be accepted with some qualifications. It is true that he had not the 
 reflective, the speculative, the romantic temperament. He was a seer 
 and a recorder rather than a thinker; a man devoted apparently 
 to the beautiful in the material rather than in the intellectual, yet 
 far removed from the mere mechanical realist of cold facts. Some 
 natures reveal their artistic feeling in what they say, and others 
 reveal the same feeling in how they say it. We see this continu- 
 ally exemplified in modern poetry, where the artist in language is 
 quite as apparent as the poetic thinker; and modern painting is 
 filled with painters who are poetic only in their means of expres- 
 sion. Frans Hals belonged to this class. He was a painter of 
 great power, and, withal, of great sensitiveness and feeling in the 
 pure art of painting. His work shows to us the shrewd observer of 
 fitness and character, the learned student of tone and relation, the 
 harmonist of full frank colors, the rhapsodist in all that relates to 
 technical expression. The finer qualities of the man came to the 
 surface through his eyes and finger-tips ; but it was no common 
 realist's eye that perceived the beautiful harmonies of silvery 
 whites and blacks in the regents' pictures at Haarlem; it was 
 no mere workman's mind that grouped and held together those 
 great pictures by giving due force and character to each figure 
 in light, in value, and in color; it was no time-serving, mechan- 
 ical hand that drew and painted them so truly and yet so easily. 
 Frans Hals was something more than a mere technician. He 
 was a great artist. 
 
 A man's true nature appears in his work, but unfortunately I'Vans 
 
FRANS HALS I9 
 
 Hals's biographers have not studied his work sufficiently. In its 
 stead they have substituted his subjects, and the few reported facts of 
 his life, to prove that he was a very material soul, and consequently 
 must have produced a material art. It is said that he was a man 
 of free habits, a frequenter of the tavern, a brawler of police-court 
 fame, who beat one wife, wronged a second, and finally in his age 
 became dependent upon town charity. Such is the record we have 
 of the man, a record preserving his (perhaps) occasional vices, and 
 recording not one of his virtues. Shall we conclude, then, that the 
 man had no virtues, that he was of low tastes, and that the police 
 docket is but a sample page of the man's whole mental and artistic 
 make-up? It is a conclusion too often and too hastily reached, 
 and it is one that his pictures absolutely deny and confute. They 
 do not show that he was gross or beer-sodden in either mind or 
 hand. They show that he was a man of individual and positive 
 view, a painter of great freedom and strength, and a colorist of 
 infinite charm and delicacy. 
 
 His subjects, indeed, might be regarded, in a popular sense, as un- 
 select. They were of the common stock from which all the Dutch 
 painters drew, and had nothing whatever to do with the ideal. They 
 were things seen, not imagined ; people of Holland, not people of 
 the air. He was peculiarly fond of the bluff, robust type, and he 
 painted it in a fresh, vigorous manner to complement the character. 
 Even his portraits are of this type. They have health and good 
 spirits, substance and shadow, as in nature ; but again they have little 
 of the ideal, or what is called in portraiture "character painting," 
 about them. Hals followed his model, and painted only what was 
 apparent. His well-fed burghers probably showed little more than 
 physical life, and he was not the man to paint false character into a 
 face. He was not a Van Dyck, painting scholars, lords, and princes ; 
 and he had little use for the intellectual gaze, the refined face, and 
 the lordly air. Possibly he never had a chance to paint men of noble 
 mien ; and yet it is more probable that his sympathies went out to 
 people of his own kind, and that he painted the frankly human 
 because he believed in it and loved it for its truth's sake. His other 
 subjects would seem to indicate this. He is always free, vivacious, 
 hearty, full of animal spirits. Sometimes he lightly jests, as in the 
 portraits of himself and wife at Amsterdam ; sometimes he is whim- 
 sical and boisterous as with his Fools and Jolly Men ; and sometimes 
 he is sober, sedate, calm, as in his Haarlem pictures. Good-natured, 
 
20 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 candid, and honest, he is always pleasing and never frivolous. What- 
 ever may be his subject, he is serious in its handling. And that 
 brings us around to our first conclusion, that the real feeling and 
 power of the painter lay in his methods of expression. What he 
 said was often coarse ; but his manner of saying was eloquent, 
 cultured, refined. His was the poetry of rhythmical color, light, 
 and handling. 
 
 As a technician, Hals had few equals, and it is hardly extravagant 
 to say that he had no superior. Velasquez and Rubens were dif- 
 ferent, and as artists they were greater; but as pure painters they 
 were not more individual or more certain than was Hals. In drawing 
 and modeling he was remarkable for giving the truth of mass and 
 bulk in the physical presence. Flesh, bone, brawn, and weight he 
 could translate with convincing precision. This effect he gained 
 not by line drawing. He was not a man of clear outline like Hol- 
 bein. His modeling was effected by regarding the exact relations 
 of color tones. The black hat and white ruff of the "Jolly Man," 
 engraved by Mr. Cole, do not hold their place by virtue of their 
 outline or rim, but by virtue of their mass in black or white, each 
 mass exactly true in value, and properly related to the head and to 
 each other. This scrupulous regard for values enabled him to paint 
 with flat tones, and thereby suggest modeling without actually giving 
 it. The black hat has a crown to it, though it is not seen ; the brim 
 circles the head, though at the back it is only indicated. The varia- 
 tion in the shades of black gives modeling, and suggests what is not 
 shown. In this flat painting Hals anticipated Manet and all the 
 Whistlerians by two hundred years ; and for this very feature he 
 is greatly admired by the moderns of to-day. It speaks strongly 
 for the genius of the man that he did not learn or appropriate this 
 from any master or school. He originated it. 
 
 In the handling of light Hals was quite different from Rem- 
 brandt and the painters who were born a few years after him. He 
 did not display it in spots upon the canvas, or break the continuity 
 of the picture by several focuses. There is nothing forced about 
 his illumination. The light came not from the sky, but chiefly 
 from the figures themselves, as was the manner of treatment em- 
 ployed by the great Italians. The banquet piece that Mr. Cole 
 has engraved illustrates this. The ruffs and sashes and faces are 
 shown to be highest in light, and in comparison the windows, from 
 which the light would naturally come, are dark. This is arbitrary 
 
FRANS HALS 21 
 
 lighting, iDut Hals is not to be blamed for it. It was the painters' 
 practice of the time, — a conventionality, and yet handled by Hals 
 with great regard for the tonal truth of the artifice. His distribu- 
 tion was even, uniform, well-regulated, so that he was not compelled 
 to sacrifice figures at the sides or back, nor colors under shadow. 
 In color he was at first a little florid, and perhaps lacking in depth 
 and delicacy ; but he soon began to employ a richer and more mel- 
 low palette, upon which all colors seemed to be placed — orange, red, 
 blue, green, brown, gray, black. These he used with great purity 
 and tenderness, showing always the sense of a colorist in giving 
 the proper fitness, resonance, and relationship of colors, under light 
 and under shadow. Late in life his hand failed him, but not his 
 eye. The colors became subdued, and he grew fond of rich blacks 
 and pearly whites flecked with gray. He was less sparkling, less 
 varied, but even more refined and harmonious. He now threw his 
 remaining strength upon the general tone-effect, and gained a charm 
 of sobriety. It was the final, perhaps the highest, step as a colorist 
 in the painter's life, but it is marred by the feeling that it was in 
 measure a makeshift to hide the inequalities of a failing hand. 
 
 It is not wonderful that the hand of a person of eighty-four 
 should forget its cunning. The man, physically, was sunk in twi- 
 light; the feebleness of old age was upon him; but in the days of 
 his strength there never was a more positive and powerful brush- 
 man. His handling is of superb freedom and dash. A staccato qual- 
 ity in it lends to energy and vivacity. He did not often indulge in 
 the long serpentine sweep of Rubens. He used little oil, and his 
 pigment was not so fluid as that of the great Fleming. He mod- 
 eled by spots and areas, painted often in patches, and occasionally 
 dashed in a hat or cloak with a large, full-loaded brush. He knew 
 almost infallibly just where to begin, just how far to carry, just 
 when to stop. He never tortured, or dragged, or thumbed ; he 
 struck swiftly and accomplished his aim at one blow. We gain no 
 idea of correction or emendation from his work. It looks to be done 
 once and finally, and that, too, with the ease of a hand that does 
 not pause to deliberate, but dashes forward, fully conscious of its 
 touch and certain of its result. Hals is again strictly original in 
 all this. His brush-work, so much admired and studied by modern 
 painters, followed no tradition, and was not learned or imitated 
 from others. It was invented, created, improvised by Hals to suit 
 his conceptions and characters, and is a positive stamp of his own 
 
22 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 individuality. It is in itself, aside from the other qualities he pos- 
 sessed, sufficient to mark him as a technician of extraordinary re- 
 sources, and a painter of prodigious power. 
 
 His works are scattered through all the galleries of Europe. 
 There are good examples at Berlin, at Dresden, at Paris, at Am- 
 sterdam ; but perhaps the most complete showing of the painter's 
 work is to be seen in the corporation and regents' pictures of 
 the Haarlem Museum. Here he appears from his thirty-sixth 
 to his eighty-fourth year, in eight large canvases, containing 
 groups of life-sized figures. The first picture, painted in 1616, 
 shows him sharp and abrupt ; he models with difficulty; the hands 
 and heads are somewhat heavy, though strong in character; 
 the coloring is over-warm. Eleven years later he painted the 
 group of portraits Mr. Cole has engraved, and we see him almost, 
 if not quite, in his prime. His color is more brilliant, yet more 
 delicate ; he has mastered modeling ; the heads are singularly indi- 
 vidual ; his light is equal in distribution ; his brush-work charming 
 in its freedom. In 1633 he painted the "Assembly of Officers of 
 St. Andrew." He is now surely at his height, with a gamut of 
 wonderfully brilliant color. He uses all hues and shades of hues, 
 mingling them together in a glowing harmony. He has overcome 
 every technical difficulty of art, and his brush is intelligent to the 
 last degree. To quote Fromentin, he has now " as much taste as 
 Van Dyck, as much skilful execution as Velasquez." He is posi- 
 tive, clear, sure, convincing. His zenith has been reached. The 
 next picture, painted in 1641, shows us a change. Hals has become 
 more sober in his colors, using large quantities of black, gray, and 
 brown. He is still virile and impressive, and there is great rich- 
 ness in his somber palette. In 1664 there is a deepening and an 
 intensifying of this sobriety, as shown in the last two pictures of 
 the series, painted when Hals was very old. Feebleness is stamped 
 upon the canvases. His colors are still pure, refined, sober almost 
 to sadness, but his once unerring hand has deserted him. He 
 dashes here and there, but is ineffectual. He no longer draws 
 surely, but he still retains a sense of relation. As though con- 
 scious of his failing powers, he seeks to cover up his errors by 
 spreading a tonal quality like a veil over the whole scene. The 
 result is both admirable and pitiful. It records the last impression 
 of an eye as sensitive as any that ever received light, the last eftort 
 of a hand as masterful as any that ever grasped painter's brush. 
 
FRANS HALS 
 
 23 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 IT'RANS HALS is one of the very few 
 Uutchmen who cannot be thoroughly 
 appreciated or studied outside the towns 
 which claim them. To know him one 
 must go to Haarlem, where he occupies 
 an eminence similar to that of Rembrandt 
 in Amsterdam, though with the advan- 
 tage of being far more comj)rehensively 
 illustrated. There, in the museum of the 
 town hall, he is represented by eight large 
 canvases varying in length from eight to 
 thirteen feet, the figures of which are life- 
 size. They are corporation and regent 
 pieces, ostensibly portraits of officers of 
 the orders of St. Andrew and of St. 
 George, and of the lady managers and 
 governors of the hospital for old men and 
 women, and of the Elizabeth Hospital. 
 They are arranged in chronological order, 
 appertaining to the periods of the artist's 
 life and embracing his long career. It is 
 a rare treat to see an array of ma.ster- 
 pieces, imposing, well lighted, and placed 
 at a convenient height for examination) 
 aftbrding at a glance fifty years of an 
 artist's labor. Tiie first of tlie series is of 
 the year 1616, and shows Hals to us at 
 the age of thirty-six; the last, of 1664, 
 shows him to us at the extreme age of 
 eighty-four, two years before his death. 
 These corporation pieces were much the 
 fashion in those days, and form a not in- 
 considerable feature of Dutch art. Frans 
 Hals and Rembrandt have done the 
 finest things of this kind, and their works 
 are not merely portrait groups, but pic- 
 tures. The example I have engraved is 
 one of the best of the series, and displays 
 Frans Hals in full flower. It is of the year 
 1627. when he was forty-seven years old. 
 It represents the officersof St. Andrew at a 
 banquet. F2ach individual may be identi- 
 fied, since he is numbered in the paint- 
 ing, and his name is affixed to the bottom 
 of the frame. I did not engrave the 
 numbers, for the names are of little or no 
 
 account at the present day ; they have, 
 in fact, all merged in the one name of 
 Frans Hals. 
 
 The painting is in a warm, fresh gray ; 
 the background is brownish. The various 
 coats of arms in stained glass are indi- 
 cated witli delicacy and precision against 
 the outside background of foliage. The 
 scarfs are tawny, orange, or tender blue; 
 the ruffs are white, and in them the artist 
 employs touches of the pure pigment. 
 The clothes are principally of dark stuff 
 figured with embroidery upon the surface, 
 the detail broadly yet delicately indicated. 
 The hands are fine, and all well individ- 
 ualized. In this he is superior in judg- 
 ment to Van Dyck, his contemporary, 
 who, considering the hands of no particu- 
 lar importance in this respect, always used 
 one model for them. There is a deHght- 
 ful harmony in the whole. It is charm- 
 ing to observe the rich but simple treat- 
 ment ; the breadth and certainty of his 
 touch, its sharpness, promptness, and ce- 
 lerity ; his free, bold, intelligent, supple 
 handling, its dash and brilliancy, together 
 with its moderation. There is a buoy- 
 ancy, a joyousness — in fact, a jocoseness 
 about him that places him most in sym- 
 pathy with the painters of to-day. Here 
 are much fiber and unction ; good red 
 blood, and plenty of it. How fine and 
 living are his heads, and how expressive ! 
 Moreover, the action and movement are 
 stirring. One can feel the moral atmo- 
 sphere that pervades the group of the 
 original Orangemen, pioneers in the cause 
 of civic and religious freedom in the 
 Netherlands. 
 
 To the period of this picture belongs 
 "The Jolly Man" of the Ryks Museum 
 at Amsterdam, one of those light subjects 
 which Hals threw oft" in moments of re- 
 laxation ; yet in point of technic it may 
 be more remarkable than his more seri- 
 ous work in displaying the deftness and 
 
24 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 rapidity of his touch. In coloring it is 
 golden and luminous. The dress is ocher, 
 and the background is of a duller tone 
 of the same. The hat is black, and the 
 ruffs are white. The jolly fellow is in the 
 act of singing ; this explains the action. 
 His face is all animation as he trolls his 
 merry song. One outstretched hand is 
 in the act of marking the time — a very 
 characteristic action in a comic piece ; 
 while in the other he holds a wine-glass, 
 grasping the lower rim. 
 
 "The Jester" is an uncertain work 
 though certainly displaying remarkable 
 cleverness of handling. I had engraved 
 this example before the others. When I 
 had nearly completed it, the director of 
 the museum came round to look at my 
 work, and told me that the painting was 
 considered by competent judges to be a 
 doubtful example of the master, jiainted 
 probably by some one of the Hals family, 
 for Halshad sons who were skilful painters. 
 It was not until after I had spent some 
 six weeks at Haarlem, engraving the cor- 
 poration picture, and had again con- 
 fronted" The Jester," that I felt competent 
 to pass judgment upon it myself. I could 
 then clearly see in it the evidences of a 
 heavier hand, something foreign to Frans 
 Hals. The touch is conscious, and chs- 
 played apparently for its own sake. In 
 the hand striking the strings it is bungling. 
 In his touch Frans Hals is simplicity 
 itself, perfectly natural and unconscious. 
 At times it is perfectly indifierent, as in 
 " The Jolly Man " ; and again, in his 
 more finished works, the smoothest pos- 
 sible rendering in engraving would be 
 necessary to give an adequate idea of its 
 softness, and of the subtle blending of the 
 tints. 
 
 It is only within the last quarter of a 
 century that Frans Hals has received the 
 recognition due to his brilliant talents. 
 Unfortunately, the records of his life are 
 very meager; but what we liave of his 
 history, from latest researches, shows him 
 to us as a very difterent character from the 
 
 mere sot his former biographers made 
 him out to be. His habits were convivial, 
 and he took no thought of the things of 
 the morrow. His renown was great in 
 his day; he was a member of the Guild 
 of Rhetoric, of the Civic Guard, and of 
 the Guild of St. Luke, and he received a 
 pension from the town of Haarlem in his 
 old age. The Hals family occupied a 
 place of distinction among the patrician 
 houses of Haarlem fully two centuries 
 before the artist's birth ; but owing to 
 misfortunes consequent upon the war of 
 independence, his parents removed to 
 Antwerp, where, about the year 1580, 
 Frans was born. While he was yet a 
 boy, however, his family returned to their 
 native town, where the artist was mainly 
 educated, and where he spent the rest of 
 his long and uneventful, career. He is sup- 
 posed to have received some instruction 
 in his art before he came to Haarlem, 
 but it is known that at this latter place 
 he entered the school of Karel van Man- 
 der in the beginning of the seventeenth 
 century. 
 
 In genre painting, to which the taste 
 of the times strongly set, Frans Hals led 
 the way. He was one of the first who 
 sought to break up the hitherto staid and 
 serious forms, and to introduce homely 
 reality and easy comedy. He is particu- 
 larly happy in the delineation of mirth — 
 a master, in fact, of the art of painting a 
 laugh. The titles of many of his ]5ic- 
 tures, half-lengths of life-size and .smaller, 
 to be found in the galleries of Europe, — 
 such as " The Jolly Topers," " The Jolly 
 Trio," " A Jolly Toper Sitting at a Table," 
 " Laughing Women," " Singing Boys," 
 " The Frolicsome Man," " Table Com- 
 pany," etc., — are sufficiently suggestive 
 of the good humor that has earned for 
 him the title of "jolly Frans Hals." 
 
 He was twice married, living happily 
 for nearly fifty years with his second wife, 
 by whom he was the father of a large 
 family. In the Amsterdam Museum there 
 is a portrait of him seated beside his wife 
 
THE JULLV MAN," HV FRANS HALS. 
 
 n\'kS MUSEUM, AMSTEKUAM. 
 
FRANS HALS 
 
 25 
 
 upon a sylvan slope within the shade of 
 overhanging foHage, which represents him 
 to us quite as we should imagine him in 
 his moments of relaxation, when he is 
 lightly mocking us. His wife, resting her 
 hand upon his shoulder, joins him in sym- 
 pathetic look and gesture. 
 
 In the Haarlem Museum is a picture 
 representing the school of Frans Hals. 
 It shows the interior of a studio, in which 
 a number of artists are drawing from a 
 nude model, while the aged painter, who 
 presides, is greeting a late comer at the 
 door. From the inscription on the back 
 we learn that it is the atelier of Hals as it 
 ajjpeared about the year 1652. He was 
 then nearly seventy-two. His success as 
 a master is seen in the powerful influence 
 he exercised over the works of his con- 
 temporaries, and in the number of cele- 
 brated men who, directly or indirectly, 
 .sprang from his studio. 
 
 A story is told of a visit paid to Hals 
 by Van Dyck. The latter was then twen- 
 
 ty-two; Hals, nineteen years his senior. 
 As a jjleasantry Van Dyck suppressed 
 his name, announcing Iiimself as a wealthy 
 stranger who wisheil to sit for his portrait, 
 but who had only a couple of hours to 
 spare. Hals fell to with his usual im- 
 petuosity, and com[)leted a portrait for 
 the sitter's inspection in even less tlian 
 the limited time, much to the satisfaction 
 of the latter, who expressed an astonish- 
 ment not altogether feigned at the speed 
 of its execution. "Surely," said he, "paint- 
 ing is an easier thing than I thought. 
 Suppose we change places, and see what 
 I can do." The exchange was made. 
 Hals instantly detected that the jierson 
 before him was no stranger to the brush. 
 He speculated in vain as to who he might 
 be. But when the second portrait was 
 finished in still less lime than the first, the 
 mystery was solved. Rushing to his guest, 
 he clasped him in a fraternal embrace. 
 " The man who can do that," he cried, 
 " must be either Van Dyck or the devil ! " 
 
 T. C. 
 
REMBRANDT 
 
lU/lAil. IK' i.M "THK MCII 1 -\VAH II." i;V KK.M UKAM >T. 
 
Chapter II 
 
 REMBRANDT 
 
 (1606-1669) 
 
 THE Dutch painter of the seventeenth century is not a diffi- 
 cuk person to comprehend, if we look at his worlc from 
 his point of view. He is an observer, a student of what 
 he observes, and a consummate technician. He has an eye for 
 the outer view, and he gives httle beyond the pictorial, with a 
 smack of individual style in the expression of it. That is, generally 
 speaking, his beginning and his ending in art. There are, however, 
 some exceptions among the Dutch painters, and the most famous 
 exception of all is Rembrandt. 
 
 That Rembrandt had an outer view of great clearness needs no 
 demonstration. There were few of the great truths of nature that 
 escaped that keen eye we have all seen so many times looking out 
 from his own portraits. His was the comprehensive vision of a 
 painter who saw the characteristic breadth and harmony of crea- 
 tion, and penetrated the justness and truth of all forms and types, 
 however humble, in the scale man had chosen to place them. He 
 saw truly, looking without, but his eye was not fashioned for the 
 outer view alone. It had a habit of reversino- itself and lookine 
 within to read the thoughts of the painter's mind. The inner vision 
 told of joy and sadness, love and sorrow, triumph and defeat. The 
 mysteries of existence, the burden of inequality, the problems of 
 good and evil, of the here and the hereafter, all were there. The 
 eye read what the mind brooded over, and, when it turned to look 
 without again, it was so tinged and hued by mental colors that the 
 world was seen sometimes through a flood of joyous sunshine, 
 sometimes through a saddened half-light, and sometimes through a 
 
20 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 mist of tears. The personal thought and feeling of the man crept 
 into his work. All that he had enjoyed, and endured, and suffered ; 
 all that he loved, and believed in, and sympathized with, so swayed 
 and dominated him, that he could not keep them out of his art. 
 Shut away from the world in a small northern country, and even 
 there a solitary man among his fellows, he probably did not realize 
 that his joy and his sadness were, in different form, the joy and sad- 
 ness of the whole world, and that in the end he would be accounted 
 one of the great expositors of human passion. He was not con- 
 sciously fulfilling his destiny. He was simply revealing his own 
 ideas in his own manner, because he could not do otherwise. Ap- 
 plause did not lead him astray ; censure could not change him. He 
 painted on in the way nature had marked out for him, and, from 
 the beginning to the end of his career, the outer view was suffused 
 and glorified by the inner vision. One turns to Coleridge and 
 reads: "Art is of a middle quality between a thought and a thing 
 — the union of that which is nature with that which is exclusively 
 human." It seems as though Coleridge had written that sentence 
 standing before a picture by Rembrandt. 
 
 There are, then, two men to be considered in Rembrandt. The 
 technician is by no means to be overlooked. His brush is not so 
 free as that of Hals, but it is more varied and fuller of resource; 
 his drawing and coloring are excellent, and, all told, he is one of the 
 greatest of the Dutch craftsmen; but there is nothing in his tech- 
 nic that raises him above and beyond Holland. It is the mental 
 and emotional attitude of the man's mind that appeals to mankind 
 at large. Let painters say what they will, the tickling of the eye 
 by a display of mere form or color counts for less in a work of art 
 than the stirring of the emotions by passionate feeling. The first 
 is a means ; the second is the end of art in itself Rembrandt 
 pleases the eye, but his superiority over every other painter in Hol- 
 land, and his rank among the great artists of the world, are largely 
 due to his pleasing the mind and the heart. He was, from the 
 start, a student of expression in look and action, a man interested 
 in the psychological side of man. His natural bent of mind devel- 
 oped a genius for these very features. He was always concerned 
 with the mental status of his characters, and he ever seemed to 
 Inquire: " How should I feel and act under such circumstances ?" 
 Thus it was that he read his own emotional feeling into every 
 character he created. 
 
REMBRANDT 31 
 
 We can trace him in his work, step by step, and year by year, 
 and can see his sympathetic feehng deepening and intensifying as 
 he grows more worldly wise. At first, he has something of the 
 gaiety of youth about him, and is at times joyous without being 
 foolish. He gathers about him rich dresses, turbans, Oriental 
 trappings, chains, armor, jewelry ; he dresses himself in these, and 
 paints his own portrait with soldierly bearing and a dare-devil 
 smile. He is fond of the physical, and paints portraits of the hale 
 type, like the "Gilder"; paints Europas and Proserpines ; paints 
 sacred subjects ; and all with much seriousness, but not with the 
 depth an d_p£Detration of later years. Saskia is his wife ; and he is 
 happy in painting her, now in one costume and now in another. 
 At Cassel she is gorgeous in rich robes and hat, composed in 
 features, frank, honest, very dignified ; at Dresden she is seated, 
 smiling, upon Rembrandt's knee, while he is holding aloft a glass 
 of beer and laughing boisterously. This is his time for laughter. 
 Success is his, he is renowned, and has many pupils ; but his head 
 is not turned by it. He never neglects or pauses from his study 
 of humanity; and he is already in sympathy with the sadder and 
 the sterner side of life. The trend of his mind is toward pathos; 
 he is interested in old men, Jews, beggars, the forlorn, and the 
 miserable ; and the way he takes up their cry of the street and the 
 quarter is almost socialistic. 
 
 A little later, he was asked to paint the so-called " Night- 
 Watch." It was a great opportunity. The picture required dash — 
 something that should have the bustle of movement and the brawl 
 of color and light about it. There was little chance here for the play 
 of emotional feeling across face or figure, little chance for a subjec- 
 tive nature to show itself. Paolo Veronese could have done it 
 superbly; Rembrandt tried it and practically failed. He was not 
 in sympathy with it, mentally or technically. His mind was too 
 serious for the gay sortie of a shooting company. And Saskia 
 — his beloved Saskia — was dying. After her death misfortunes 
 came trooping thick upon him, but he did not, even now, pause 
 in his study of humanity. His art deepened and saddened under 
 the burden of increasing poverty, neglect, and sorrow ; but it did 
 not flag or decline. Then, in one year, he painted the " Good 
 Samaritan " and the "Supper at Emmaus," in the Louvre; and in 
 them we have the full expression of the man's emotional power. 
 The pity and the tenderness of the " Good Samaritan " are not to 
 
32 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 be touched upon, since a master pen has already described them, 
 the "Supper at Emmaus" has been engraved by Mr. Cole, and, 
 though the color is not given, the expression is, in measure, trans- 
 lated. And how truly marvelous is that expression ! Did Rem- 
 brandt understand the Gothic law of painting soul well by showing 
 body ill .'' The thin, emaciated figure, the coarse hands and feet, 
 the wan cheek, the dark lips, the pallid face, would all seem to say 
 so. "He hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see 
 him there is no beauty that we should desire him. He is despised 
 and rejected of men ; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief" 
 This is not the glorified Christ, who has risen triumphant over 
 death and is now free from all earthly taint. It is the Christ of 
 Golgotha, still marked by the trial, the persecution, the crucifix- 
 ion. The shame and the humiliation, the sorrow and the mental 
 suffering, the ignominy and the torture of his death, are about him 
 as he sits there, breaking bread, his soft brown eyes looking up, 
 the pale ghostly light of the tomb about his head, the very archi- 
 tecture back of him suggesting the tomb itself Was there ever 
 such a painting of mute agony, and yet, with it, meekness and for- 
 bearance to the last ? There is only one face in art that approaches 
 it — the face of DLirer's " Christ on the Cross," at Dresden. The 
 splendid Paolo Veronese, with the Jove-like type of Christ, — he 
 who could have painted Rembrandt's " Night-Watch " so gor- 
 geously, — tried and practically failed with this theme. Emotional 
 expression was his weak feature ; it was Rembrandt's strong 
 feature. 
 
 Rembrandt was at his height ; yet still a student bent upon in- 
 tensifying his expression of character and deepening his shades of 
 meaning. As he advanced in years, the type of age seemed to at- 
 tract him more and more, and he tried to give the sum of existence 
 in the faces of old men and women. His rabbis wear the air of 
 the tongue-lashed and fire-scathed, and his own portrait, which he 
 continued to paint, is at times defiant-looking in fine robe and 
 brii^dit color, though more often sad-faced and somber-hued. The 
 shadows of misery and want were heavy about him. He was 
 sounding the depths of woe in his own life, his eyes were looking 
 within, and ever his brush was telling the fellow-feeling for man 
 which was so strongly stamped upon his heart and brain. Yet 
 whatever his personal despondency, he did not despair in his art. 
 He worked on, his eye seeing clearer and surer the great universal 
 
r 
 O 
 en 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 •a 
 
 
REMBRANDT 33 
 
 truths, and separating them from the merely local ; his mind broad- 
 ening to the great problem of existence. At the last he failed 
 quite rapidly. His hand no longer obeyed his mind. It had 
 started sharp and precise ; it ended coarse, hot, fumbling. Appar- 
 ently the bitterness of life had worn him out, and he died and was 
 buried (so far as history tells us) unwept, unhonored, and unsung. 
 The peculiar technical knowledge wherewith Rembrandt was en- 
 abled to show his emotional feeling — that feeling which so often de- 
 veloped into tragic passion — may be suggested in a sentence. It 
 was a thorough understanding of human expression, not only in 
 the face, but in the hands, the arm, the bowed head, the bent back. 
 All his life he was studyijTg_the_o uter man ifestations, of '•h'" pmn- 
 jtiojiai-Rature. As a young man he was painting his relatives, his 
 acquaintances, his own portrait. Year after year he sat before 
 his glass painting himself, watching the expression of the eye and 
 brow, noting the play of the mouth and the chin. The heart spoke 
 through the mobile face, and he would know its language. The 
 classic face did not attract him. It might have symmetry and pro- 
 portion, but it did not have expression ; it did not betray passion 
 like the irretjular face. No wonder he made friends with the beij- 
 gars and Jews of the quarter, and used one of them for the figure 
 of the C hrist in the "Supper at Emmaus ." What he had to say 
 could be _w:pn fnh] with no other fac e. Again, he could no t use 
 _t he classic fig^ure. It was too coldly calm and self-conscious in i _ts_ 
 p roportions for him . The worn outcast and the pallid pilgrim 
 were more fitted to him. And what meanings he portrayed in 
 the bended knee, the stooped back, and the upraised hand ! Look 
 again at the "Supper at Emmaus," and see the incredulity and 
 wonder written in the hands and turned heads of the two disciples 
 at the table ; see the fear and trembling of the boy bringing in the 
 dish. 
 
 This synthesis of character, this strong grasp of the salient fea- 
 tures, appeared not alone in mean figures heavy laden with sorrow. 
 The wife of Manoah, at Dresden, large and splendid, is the epitome 
 of prayer, as she kneels in her gorgeous robes ; and the lieutenant 
 in the " Night-Watch " (the figure at the right in Mr. Cole's detail) 
 is the very poetry of motion. Whether of high or of low degree, 
 whether in emotional or in physical life, Rembrandt had the power 
 of characterization. The firm foot, the substantial body, the burgher 
 face speaking so loudly for animal life, how positively he could tell 
 
34 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 them! We see them in the "Syndics of the Cloth Hall," at Am- 
 sterdam. They are almost vulgarly healthy. Mr. Cole, in a private 
 letter, writes : " It [the Syndic picture] fairly smells of beef and 
 beer." Precisely! That w^as doubtless the quality of the men, and 
 Rembrandt, like Hals, never falsified the character of anything. 
 He told the truth — the truth of fact in the outer man, the truth of 
 feeline in the inner man. He was a maste r of truthful characteriza- 
 
 _tion_andexpression, and therein lay his great power. 
 
 Rembrandt's life-long study of appearance naturally produced the 
 anatomist, the physiognomist, the trained draftsman, the nearly per- 
 fect modeler. He was each and all of these. The features of the 
 face that were the most speaking were the ones he studied the most, 
 the ones he portrayed with the greatest force. Nothing could be 
 finer than his drawing of the eye, the lid, the brow, the cheek-bone, 
 the mouth. In the modeling of the forehead, the skull, the side of 
 the jaw, the chin, he could give the feeling of bone-structure and 
 flesh with conclusive reality, and there never was a painter who 
 could equal him in mingling flesh and hair. In the apparently small 
 feature of blending a thin mustache over a mouth, so that the mouth 
 was really emphasized rather than hidden by it, he showed a mastery 
 of materials that no other painter ever approached. He thoroughly 
 understood the human face, and yet was not lacking in a knowledge 
 of other features. Hands, and feet, and nude figure he sometimes 
 gave in a coarse, strong way, as his bathers testify. They were never 
 eclectic or ideal in type. He worked from the model, and the Dutch 
 type, somewhat heavy, wanting in height, and often distorted from 
 work and the wearing of coarse clothing, was given with all its 
 shortcomings ; yet again with a jowerful sense of actual lite and 
 being. The figure has truth of mass, the hands are flesh and blood, 
 
 ~tKFTeet stand firmly as though bearing a weight. With or without 
 clothing he knew the human form in all its parts, and he repro- 
 duced it with force and truth, if not always with grace and elegance. 
 In giv ing the setting to the face or fi gure, he employed an _arbU. 
 trary, but no less effective, chiaroscuro. _ He hardly comprehended 
 Tigh t as an illum i nation, a' n_ equal distributi on. It was to him largely 
 a means of emphasizing certain expressive features. He forced it, 
 drove it in full power upon the forehead, nose, cheek, or chin. The 
 eye, and often the side of the face or the forehead under a hat, he 
 liked to leave in shadow, for the mystification that the shadow pro- 
 duced, and for its contrast with the high light. It was bj- contrast 
 
REMBRANDT 35 
 
 that he gained strength. He made a center of light in his pictures, 
 and from this center there was a radiation outward that soon lost 
 itself in deep, luminous shadows, that enveloped, surrounded, and 
 really gave the setting to the figure. Not only was the contrast of 
 light up and down and across the picture, but it extended into it. 
 His foreground was high in key; his background somber, gray- 
 green, brown, or deep golden. Under such a lighting the chief fea- 
 tures were powerfully relieved and the minor features subordinated, 
 oftentimes to mere suggestion. Color fared in a similar manner. 
 There was nothing for it but to follow the course of the radiating 
 light. Hence, in the lighted portions, it was high-keyed, brilliant, 
 glowing; but under shadow it could not, and did not, retain its 
 truth of tone. It was sacrificed in a merciless manner, bleached, 
 distorted, almost demolished. Even in landscape, he was inclined 
 to follow this method of working, though here he was compelled to 
 regard a sky illumination to some extent. Occasionally, too, in his 
 figures, he dispensed with the deep contrasted shadow, but he did 
 so with evident reluctance. He knew that shadow was the foil and 
 the relief of light; he knew its haunting, suggestive qualities. With- 
 out it his figures would have to hold by their clear profile, and he 
 placed no love or confidence in outline drawing. The sharp con- 
 trast of light and dark was as much of a necessity with him as the 
 irregular face. He could not fully express himself without it. 
 
 It was, as has been said, an arb itrary rn ethod_o f lighting , and 
 yet with the portrait, the single figure, or even several figures, as 
 in the " Supper at Emmaus," it proved a powerful method. It was 
 the dramatic force of the stage applied to painting — a climax from 
 dark to light, from somber hues to brilliancy, from the less truths 
 to the greater ones. But it had its limitations, and Rembrandt 
 showed them. When he grappled with the large composed group, 
 his method proved unequal to the emergency. The sharp degrada- 
 tion of light from the chief figures left the figures at the sides and 
 back submerged in shadow. This he tried to obviate by creating 
 several centers of light. But a picture loses strength by many 
 focuses, just as a play loses strength by many climaxes. The 
 " Night- Watch " is eloquent of this. Rembrandt apparently knew 
 little of linear composition; liis _ relian ce_^ was on composition by )^ j^r/ 
 jTiasses of light and da rk ; yet he tried some line effect in this 
 picture. The flag at the left, the column and spears at the right, 
 the architecture at the back, seem to cut the picture into three 
 
36 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 pieces, like a triptych. The central compartment (a detail from 
 which is shown in Mr. Cole's engraving) he used for his strongest 
 light ; but the light ran off into shadow so quickly that it was not 
 sufficient to illuminate this central piece alone. He began, then, 
 forming new focuses of light. We see one of them brought to bear 
 on the face of the man with the gun, another one on that odd little 
 girl, — whose presence in such a scene is enigmatical, until we under- 
 stand that the painter needed her just there as a spot of light and 
 color, — and, again, the figures in the background form still other 
 focuses. As for the figures at the sides, beyond the spears and 
 the flag, they were plunged in shadow, and required separate cen- 
 ters of illumination to be seen at all. The result was that the picture 
 had many lights, but no one illumination ; had many figures, but no 
 one composition ; had many parts, but each part unrelated to the 
 others. It was not successful in Rembrandt's day, and since then 
 V it has been cut down to its present size ; but it is still unsatisfac- 
 '^ tory. It is not held together, it is spotty in light, and the different 
 focuses are bewildering and confusing. As seen to-day, it is a mass 
 of yellow, and a striking picture in that respect — but Rembrandt 
 ^ can be neither praised nor blamed for it. He probably used Venice 
 turpentine as a vehicle, and it has thrown a yellow tone over the 
 picture. 
 
 The limitation of Rembrandt's system of illumination is shown 
 in many of his larger pictures. The " Lesson in Anatomy " is a blaze 
 of light on the corpse, and the heads of the doctors are but reflect- 
 ing mirrors; the "Good Samaritan" is not satisfactory, and tells 
 of neither night nor day ; the " Manoah's Sacrifice," at Dresden, is 
 disjointed ; the " Jacob and the Sons of Joseph," at Cassel, has been 
 cut down. The " Syndics of the Cloth Hall," at Amsterdam, is one 
 picture of half a dozen portraits, and not open to objection as a com- 
 position ; but here Rembrandt abandoned his method for a fuller 
 and broader illumination. The truth is that his peculiar chiaros- 
 curo, when he carried it out fully, admitted of only a few feet (some- 
 times a few inches) between the highest light and the lowest dark, 
 and such a lighting could not be satisfactorily applied to the expan- 
 sive canvas. It was appropriate to the portrait and the single figure. 
 It was with such subjects that Rembrandt was the most successful. 
 It is by them that he should be judged. 
 
 We have been told many times that Rembrandt was "a perfect 
 master of light," and we have also been assured that, as a colorist. 
 
 'N 
 
 (.. 
 
DETAIL FROM "THE SUPPER AT EMMAUS," BY REMP.RAXDT. 
 
 LOUVRr-:, I'AKIS. 
 
36 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 pieces, like a triptych. The central compartment (a detail from 
 which is shown in Mr. Cole's engraving) he used for his strongest 
 light ; but the light ran off into shadow so quickly that it was not 
 sufficient to illuminate this central piece alone. He began, then, 
 forming new focuses of light. We see one of them brought to bear 
 on the face of the man with the gun, another one on that odd little' 
 girl, — whose presence in such a scene is enigmatical, until we under- 
 stand that the painter needed her just there as a spot of light and 
 color, — and, again, the figures in the background form still other 
 focuses. As for the figures at the sides, beyond the spears and 
 the flag, they were plunged in shadow, and required separate cen- 
 ters of illumination to be seen at all. The result was that the picture 
 had many lights, but no one illumination ; had many figures, but no 
 one composition ; had many parts, but each part unrelated to the 
 others. It was not successful in Rembrandt's day, and since then 
 V it has been cut down to its present size ; but it is still unsatisfac- 
 ■^J tory. It is not held together, it is spotty in light, and the different 
 ^ focuses are bewildering and confusing. As seen to-day, it is a mass 
 of yellow, and a striking picture in that respect — but Rembrandt 
 ^ can be neither praised nor blamed for it. He probably used Venice 
 \ turpentine as a vehicle, and it has thrown a yellow tone over the 
 picture. 
 
 The limitation of Rembrandt's system of illumination is shown 
 in many of his larger pictures. The " Lesson in Anatomy " is a blaze 
 of light on the corpse, and the heads of the doctors are but reflect- 
 ing mirrors; the "Good Samaritan" is not satisfactory, and tells 
 of neither night nor day ; the " Manoah's Sacrifice," at Dresden, is 
 disjointed ; the " Jacob and the Sons of Joseph," at Cassel, has been 
 cut down. The " Syndics of the Cloth Hall," at Amsterdam, is one 
 picture of half a dozen portraits, and not open to objection as a com- 
 position ; but here Rembrandt abandoned his method for a fuller 
 and broader illumination. The truth is that his peculiar chiaros- 
 curo, when he carried it out fully, admitted of only a few feet (some- 
 times a few inches) between the highest light and the lowest dark, 
 and such a lighting could not be satisfactorily applied to the expan- 
 sive canvas. It was appropriate to the portrait and the single figure. 
 It was with such subjects that Rembrandt was the most successful. 
 It is by them that he should be judged. 
 
 We have been told many times that Rembrandt was "a perfect 
 master of light," and we have also been assured that, as a colorist, 
 
 k 
 
i|[ffliifflmiiFi|i|iiiiiii"pii 
 
 if' 
 
 !!!L 
 
 ■| 
 
 DETAIL FROM -THE SUPPER AT EMMAUS," BV REMIiRAXOT. 
 
 LOUVRr, PARIS. 
 
REMBRANDT 37 
 
 he ranks among the world's great masters. Both statements are 
 true if taken with quahfications. If it is necessary that the ilhimi- 
 nation of a picture should be even in distribution whether in full 
 light, half light, or shadow, then Rembrandt was not a luminarist ; 
 if color should be preserved under light and under shadow, main- 
 taining always its fitness, quality, and absolute relationship, then 
 Rembrandt was not a colorist. But ordinary rules did not apply to 
 this man any more than to Michael Angelo. He made laws unto 
 himself, created an arbitrary light, and produced an arbitrary color. 
 He sacrificed the half lights to the full lights, and he sacrificed the 
 half tones of color to the full tones in a corresponding manner. 
 Truth of color he doubtless knew, but disregarded. His method of 
 lighting compelled him to do so. Color had to decrease in value 
 with the swift degradation of light, and Rembrandt as a colorist was 
 a slave to Rembrandt as a chiaroscurist. Yet again in color as in 
 light he gained strength by this forcing process. The swift transi- 
 tion from dull brown to glowing red, or from bleached gray to 
 brilliant yellow, was startling, ringing, dramatic. It was the climax 
 again — the rushing up to the final point with ever increasing 
 splendor and power. But was this disregard of the truth of color 
 an indication of the colorist? It can hardly be thought so. Rem- 
 brandt was a colorist beyond all question, but he was so in spite of 
 his sacrifices rather than by virtue of them. He knew what colors 
 were beautiful in themselves, and he knew how to arrange them in 
 harmonious and beautiful combinations. Moreover, he knew the 
 richness, transparency, and depth of tones. He was seldom flar- 
 ing or shrill in color. A tone might be false, but it was not raw ; 
 it might be despotic, but it pleased the eye. That his colors 
 were indescribably subtile in both quality and harmony is true, 
 but their real charm was more elementary, and lay largely in their 
 choice and arrangement. In this he was not showing- color for 
 color's sake, in a Paolo Veronese sense. It was not with him a 
 sole means of expression — the final aim of a painting. He had 
 something to say regarding humanity, and color he used as a 
 means of saying it beautifully. 
 
 As a workman with the brush he was not so free as Rubens, 
 Velasquez, or Hals. Like Titian, he kneaded with thumb and 
 brush, though at times he struck off with great ease and sureness. 
 Nothing could be more masterful than his occasional modeling of 
 a cheek and jaw with apparently one bold sweep. A comparison 
 
38 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 of so simple a feature as the fluted collars in the portraits by 
 Rubens, Van Dyck, and Rembrandt, will soon convince one that 
 Rembrandt was the master, easily first in giving the sense of real- 
 ity, though his work was not so cleanly done on the surface as that 
 of the others. In the final finish he often allowed his brush to 
 plow through and show the under-painting, for the sake of lumi- 
 nosity, so that his surfaces are often tortured in appearance, and his 
 methods difficult to determine. It is certain that his darks and his 
 backgrounds were painted thinly in a lucid vehicle, and afterward 
 overlaid with thin glazes. It was thus that he obtained his depth, 
 richness, and transparency in shadows. The transparency of his 
 lights he probably gained in a different manner; that is, not l)y 
 thin paintings, but by broken touches, that allowed portions of the 
 light under-painting to appear at the edges. It is said by Mansaert 
 that he rarely blended his colors, laying one on another without 
 mixing them ; but this is not apparent in his work, probably owing 
 to the plowing effect already spoken of 
 
 His work shows but slight trace (and that only in sul)ject and 
 light) of influence from master or school. His precursors gave lit- 
 tle indication of his coming. The man seems quite original in mind 
 and hand. Doubless his chiaroscuro came to him from Caravag- 
 gio, Init how or when no one knows. In modeling, in handling, in 
 color, and, above all, in thought and feeling, he stands quite by him- 
 self the great genius of Dutch art, and a painter who ranks with 
 Titian, Rubens, and Velasquez, among the world's great masters. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 ON my first arrival in Holland, fresh 
 from Italy and the classicism of 
 Italian art, and having my mind imbued 
 with its fair and heavenly images, I was 
 ill prepared to drop immediately into sym- 
 pathy with Dutch art. Though I felt I 
 should experience no difficulty in this 
 respect, yet when I walked through the 
 Ryks Museum in Amsterdam, a strange 
 sadness came over me, and I felt inclined 
 to look around on the collection of small 
 pictures as upon a dreary waste. How 
 should 1 ever learn to love these genre 
 
 subjects, with what appeared to me their 
 gross materialism ? I could have wei)t. 
 I had descended from Parnassus, and 
 was once more among the haunts of men. 
 I resolved to plod on in fiiith, however, 
 doing my best with whatever came to 
 hand, and to see what the influence of 
 association might do in changing this at- 
 titude toward them. The" Night-Watch," 
 by Rembrandt, was the only thing that 
 possessed any attraction for me. I had 
 already had some acijuaintance with the 
 great Hollander, having engraved, at the 
 
REMBRANDT 
 
 39 
 
 Louvre, some ten years ago, his wonder- 
 ful " Supper at Emmaus," which left an 
 indelible impression ujion me ; so that my 
 interest in him was not wholly effaced by 
 my long sojourn in so opposite a field of 
 art as the Italian. I decided to engrave 
 a detail of the principal figures of the 
 " Night-Watch " as my first essay in 
 Dutch art. 
 
 Nine months have passed since that 
 time, and now I marvel greatly, as 1 
 pause before my favorites in the gallery, 
 that I could have been so blind to their 
 charming qualities. Every day I made 
 a new discovery, until I began to count 
 the masterpieces by the score. Now I 
 see working in these earnest Dutchmen 
 the same spirit of sincerity, and love, 
 and reverence, which actuated the Italians. 
 These honest workers tell us in their pic- 
 tures that all things are miracles, and 
 that each part and tag of anything or of 
 any one is a miracle ; and so they paint 
 the hair on a cow's back with the same 
 reverence that Fra Angelico painted the 
 flowers of paradise, and an old woman's 
 face is as divine as that of an angel. 
 How can there be too much fidelity and 
 realism where nature is approached with 
 humility and reverence ? Even the sub- 
 limity of the Italian, which lifts one to 
 the skies, is not wanting in the landscapes 
 of Ruisdael and Hobbema. I learn now 
 that what charmed and fascinated in the 
 work of the Italians holds me equally 
 in the work of the Hollanders. A 
 confession of moral nature, of that self- 
 forgetfulness or unconsciousness so capti- 
 vating, of the large and tender soul, of 
 purity, love, and hope, breathes from the 
 one as from the other. This surely is the 
 true excellence of all really great works 
 of art, without which this business of pic- 
 ture-making were but a trivial and profit- 
 less aftair. 
 
 The " Night-Watch " is the chief attrac- 
 tion of the Ryks Museum, and is Rem- 
 brandt's largest and, in the opinion of 
 many, his most important work. It mea- 
 
 sures II by 14 feet, and is dated 1642. 
 A contemporary copy of the work by 
 Gerrit Lundens, to be seen in the National 
 Gallery, London, and a photograph from 
 a drawing of it by Jacob Cats, made in 
 1779, which hangs in the Rembrandt 
 Room, where the great picture is installed, 
 show that the work has been cut down 
 on all sides, thus seriously altering its 
 composition as the great master left it. 
 More than two feet were lopped away 
 from the left side, carrying off two figures; 
 something less from the top; from the bot- 
 tom the foreground has been shortened 
 by eight inches or more; and the same 
 amount has been taken from the right side, 
 cutting away half of one of the princij)al 
 figures, which formerly was entire. The 
 work was painted for Frans Banning Cock 
 and his company of harquebusiers, and 
 is one of the many guild pieces which in 
 those days it was the fashion for corpora- 
 tions to have executed, wherein the por- 
 traits of the various members were de- 
 picted. The real title of the piece is the 
 " Sortie of the Company of Frans Banning 
 Cock." The title of the " Night-Watch " 
 is false and misleading. This erroneous 
 title originated with French writers of the 
 end of the eighteenth century, and Rey- 
 nolds, in his " Tour through Flanders 
 and Holland," has added to its publicity 
 in his note upon the work. He evidently 
 saw it before it was cleaned of its thick 
 coating of varnish, and of the smoke 
 of lamps and innumerable Dutchmen's 
 pipes, — for the Dutch are famous smok- 
 ers, — since he says that it disappointed 
 him, as he had heard so much respecting 
 it, and remarks that it had more the ap- 
 pearance of a Ferdinand Bol, from the 
 prevalence of a sickly yellow color. Seen 
 under this circumstance of partial ob- 
 scurity, it is no wonder that it should 
 have been taken for a night scene. Since 
 then it has been cleaned, and si.x years 
 ago its varnished surface was again fresh- 
 ened by the simple operation of subject- 
 ing it to the fumes of alcohol ; and those 
 
40 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 who saw it after the operation speak with 
 rapture of the wonderful luminous depth 
 and brilliancy of its coloring. After five 
 or six years, however, the varnish crackles 
 again, and obscurity once more sets in, 
 rendering a renewal of the operation ne- 
 cessary. This is always the case with 
 pictures covered with a spirit varnish. 
 
 The scene represents the company 
 emerging from their guild-house in the 
 golden sunlight of afternoon. The cap- 
 tain, clad in deep brown or warm black, 
 with a red scarf about his waist ; and his 
 lieutenant, clad in a yellow jerkin and 
 breeches, a white scarf about his waist, 
 and a white plume adorning his yellow 
 hat, precede the group, which in com- 
 position recedes on each side. The dis- 
 tribution of color against the soft, warm, 
 and tender obscurity of the background 
 is magnificent. The grace and easy ac- 
 tion of the man in yellow are especially 
 admirable. The coloring of Rembrandt's 
 pictures appears more yellow when seen 
 in proximity with other works of a colder 
 and harsher tone. The position of the 
 " Night-Watch " is unfortunate in this re- 
 spect, since on each side of it is hung an 
 immense corporation picture by Van der 
 Heist. But shutting out of sight and mind 
 everything else, and so getting into the 
 key of his coloring, one can appreciate 
 what a truly marvelous painter he really 
 was. 
 
 Of the three hundred and fifty paint- 
 ings by Rembrandt, Holland possesses 
 only twenty-five ; but among these are 
 the " Night-Watch," the " Syndics," and 
 the "Anatomical Lesson." 
 
 Rembrandt Harmens van Rijn — for 
 such is his full name — was bom at Ley- 
 den, a town near Amsterdam, famous in 
 the history of the independence of the 
 Netherlands, and as the birthplace of 
 many great artists and other men of re- 
 nown. Rembrandt's parents were well- 
 
 1 Sir Fr.incis Seymour Haden calls attention to 
 this fact in showing that many of the etchings 
 bearing Rembrandt's name are the work of his 
 
 to-do folk, and he was intended for the 
 study of law ; but his father, discovering 
 his strong bent toward art, placed him, 
 at the age of twelve or thirteen, under 
 the instruction of Jacob van Swanenburch 
 of Leyden, and, after three years, under 
 Pieter Lastman of Amsterdam, who had 
 been in Italy and knew something of 
 Italian art. Remaining with Lastman till 
 he was eighteen or nineteen years old, 
 he returned to his parents at Leyden, 
 and nature thereafter became the object 
 of his profound study. In 1630, when 
 twenty-four years old, he felt himself 
 strong enough to do something on his 
 own account, and accordingly went again 
 to Amsterdam, rented a large house, and 
 divided the upper portion of it into cells 
 or small studios for the reception of pupils, 
 who were to be thus separated from one 
 another for the better preservation of 
 their individuality. Fortune smiled upon 
 him. His house was constantly filled with 
 students of good families, who paid him 
 100 florins annually, while the income he 
 derived from their paintings and etchings 
 amounted to 2000 or 2500 florins, or 
 more. Among his scholars were Ferdi- 
 nand Bol, Govaert Flinck, Gerard Dou, 
 Nicolaes Maes, Van Hoogstraaten, Ko- 
 ninck, Victoors, and many others, — thirty, 
 in fact, in his house at a time.i — a busy 
 hive of painters and etchers. He painted 
 his famous "Anatomial Lesson" in 1632, 
 when only twenty-six years old. 
 
 After keeping bachelor's hall in this 
 way for three years, he effected an alli- 
 ance with the influential family of Rum- 
 bartus van Ulenburgh, burgomaster of 
 Leeuwarden, and a member of the court 
 of Friesland. This same Rumbartus was 
 more than once a political envoy from 
 that court, and related that he had been 
 treated with marked affability and re- 
 tained at dinner by William the Taciturn 
 on the very evening when the prince, on 
 
 pupils, and further informs us that at The Hague 
 it was unlawful for an apjircntice to sign liis own 
 work. 
 
■■"("[!I"'::I 
 
 "THE SUPPER AT EMMAUS," DV REMERAXnT. 
 
 LOUVRE, PARIS. 
 
REMBRANDT 
 
 41 
 
 leaving the table, had been assassinated 
 by a Bourguignon. Saskia, the daughter 
 of Rumbartus, became Rembrandt's wife 
 in 1633, bringing him love and wealth. 
 There followed a period of eight years of 
 prosperity and sunshine, culminating in 
 the " Night- Watch." Tlien the death 
 of his beloved Saskia, which happened 
 in the same year, changed everything for 
 him. His life corresponds to his scheme 
 of coloring in its contrast of light and 
 shade; and the events of his latter days, 
 like the forms in many of his backgrounds, 
 are clouded in obscurity. We have a 
 glimpse of its luminous side from Vos- 
 maer. We see him at home, surrounded 
 by his pupils, living a life of perfect sim- 
 plicity, sober, regular, and absorbed in 
 his work, a happy father and blessed with 
 a devoted wife, in high favor and receiv- 
 ing good prices for his pictures. His 
 lower rooms were filled with all kinds of 
 objects of art curiosity. He had a mania 
 for collecting, and it is said had works 
 of Michael Angelo, Raphael, Giorgione, 
 Titian, Palma Vecchio, Diirer, Lucas van 
 Leyden, and the earlier Dutch masters. 
 It is evening, and he is at home. In a 
 large back room, — their living-a]iartment, 
 tinted blue, — he is seated at an ample 
 table, beneath a cluster of candles, which, 
 shaded, sheds its concentrated light — a 
 Rembrandt flood — over the principal 
 objects of interest. Rembrandt is .sketch- 
 ing or etching ; his wife, seated near by, 
 is tending the baby — their son Titus — 
 or sewing ; while in the background are 
 dimly perceivable a score of pictures, an- 
 tique heads, a large curtained bed, a press, 
 and a chest of drawers or " what-not." 
 Or friends drop in, and gather round 
 the table within the circle of light, and 
 sketches are passed around, and we have 
 a picture of the " Staalmeesters " in their 
 broad-brimmed hats. I remember seeing 
 a picture of his in which he seems to have 
 symbolized the happiness of these all too 
 fleeting years. He is seated in hilarious 
 mood, with his wife upon his knee, and 
 
 his arm about her waist, while in the 
 other hand he extends on high a glass of 
 wine. It might in truth be called " one 
 hour to madness and to joy," such is its 
 complete abandon. All the many por- 
 traits he has made of himself during this 
 time are of a romantic and fantastic kind, 
 and show him to be a lover of fine array; 
 his leonine head is adorned with long, 
 floating locks, and his mustache is elegant 
 and twirled. But the romance of his life 
 coming to an end with the death of Saskia, 
 we have no more portraits of him until 
 about six years afterward, when, in 164S, 
 a remarkable one appears, evidently a 
 real likeness. His locks are shorn, a jjlain 
 citizen's hat replaces the former jaunty 
 cap and plume, his mustache is closely 
 clipped, gone are all his " silks and fine 
 array." He is seated at a desk at work, 
 beside a plain, small window, and looks 
 at the spectator with sad and reflective 
 eyes. We now for the first time behold 
 the man as he is, chastened and fit for his 
 great work, the " Supper at Emmaus," 
 which he painted in this year. 
 
 Saskia in her will becjueathed him the 
 usufruct of her property, on condition 
 tliat he .should continue a widower, with 
 remainder to their son Titus. Financial 
 depression overwhelmed the city, and in- 
 fluenced the sale of his pictures. The 
 fashion in art changed. Some of his 
 pupils, in the estimation of his contem- 
 poraries, became of greater account than 
 he, and rose in high favor, insomuch that 
 the poets lauded them at his expense. 
 His prestige had departed. It was no 
 longer thought necessary to paint like 
 Rembrandt to command success. The 
 thing to do now was the reverse, and six 
 florins was enough for a portrait of his. 
 Little is known of him during these dark 
 days. About 1654 he married again, and 
 in order to satisfy the claims put forth by 
 the trustees of Titus, who was yet a 
 minor, he was obliged to make an inven- 
 tory of his goods, which he valued at 
 40,000 florins, but which realized at auc- 
 
42 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 tion less than 5000 florins ; and this being 
 found insufficient to satisfy the demands 
 made against him, he was obliged to sell 
 his house for 6700 florins, and became 
 bankrupt ; his brother and sister, who had 
 inherited larger shares of the patrimonial 
 estate than he, likewise falling into ex- 
 treme poverty. 
 
 All through the darkness of these latter 
 days he shines forth with increasing luster 
 in his works ; for, as Seymour Haden 
 says : " He was no less than at any period 
 of his career adding to his power, and 
 both by his painting and etching accu- 
 mulating immortality." He painted " De 
 
 Staalmeesters " ("The Syndics") in 1661, 
 eight years before his death. In this year 
 he appears, from Walpole, to have wan- 
 dered to England, and to have painted 
 some fine things at Hull. It has been 
 said that he was married a third time, 
 and that he did not die so poor as is 
 supposed; but this is doubtful. In the 
 " Livre Mortuaire " of the Wester Kerk, 
 Amsterdam, appears the following simple 
 entry relating to his death : " Tuesday, 
 8th Oct., 1669, Rembrandt van Rijn, 
 Painter on the Rovzegraft, opposite the 
 Doolhof. Leaves two children." 
 
 T. C. 
 
FERDINAND BOL 
 
Chapter III 
 
 FERDINAND BOL 
 (1616-1680) 
 
 * MODERN theorist has recently told us, with a love of the sen- 
 /\ sational and the paradoxical characteristic of the present 
 X V time, that there was virtually no such painter as Rem- 
 brandt, and that the majority of pictures ascribed to him were 
 painted by his pupil Ferdinand Bol. The logic of the argu- 
 ment, if there be any, would seem to be based upon the fact that 
 Rembrandt at times painted down to the level of Bol. The re- 
 verse of this conclusion seems not to have been considered. Did 
 Bol ever paint up to the level of Rembrandt? 
 
 The leader of a school is always held responsible for some 
 of the works of his pupils ; but it is not often that the pupils 
 are credited with the works of the leader. Some masters (Bel- 
 lini, for example) made it a business matter to sign their names 
 to school w^ork as a guarantee that the pictures came from their 
 workshop ; and oftentimes, where they failed to sign their names, 
 the directors of galleries have been only too prone to attribute 
 to Raphael, Rubens, or Rembrandt, pictures that should be given 
 to Giulio Romano, Grayer, or Bol. Then, too, a commercial spirit 
 has sometimes led to forgeries of great names. As a result of 
 all this a painter's style is often a badly confused problem if 
 gallery attributions are accepted as infallibly true. In the Pina- 
 cothek, at Munich, there hung for years portraits of Bol and his 
 wife signed with Rembrandt's name. Every one who had made 
 a study of Rembrandt could determine, almost at a glance, that 
 they were not his work. Now% the signatures have been proved 
 forgeries ; the pictures have been assigned to Bol, and the sub- 
 
46 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 jects are said to be Flinck and his wife. These portraits came 
 to Munich from the Mannheim Gallery, and with them, from the 
 same gallery, came a "Sacrifice of Isaac" and a "Holy Family," 
 which still bear the signature of Rembrandt. The modeling, 
 handling, and coloring in all four of the pictures are substan- 
 tially the same. It is not impossible that one man painted all 
 of them, and that the man was no other than Bol. For Rem- 
 brandt never modeled in such an uncertain manner, never used 
 such pallid flesh-tints, never painted with such a smooth brush. 
 He was more pronounced and individual in every way. In his 
 late years he sometimes painted with a coarse, harsh touch, but 
 never with thinness or timidity. The Munich pictures show his 
 style at second-hand, reproduced by a pupil. Between the orig- 
 inal and the imitation there is only a surface likeness. For Bol 
 was to Rembrandt as Mazo to Velasquez. They both painted 
 works that resembled their masters at their weakest ; neither 
 of them painted works that resembled their masters at their 
 strongest. 
 
 Bol is said to have been the first and the Ijest [juj)il of 
 Rembrandt, and to have quite superseded his master in public 
 favor at one time. That is no matter for wonderment. The 
 populace probably preferred a catching likeness, a white skin, 
 and a finished surface, to a broader and stron</er rcnderin''-. To- 
 day the same sort of a populace prefers Bouguereau's flesh-tints 
 to those of Roybet or Cormon. It proves only the problem- 
 atical value of popular judgments. A portrait by Rembrandt 
 placed beside one of Bol will quickly indicate which was the 
 stronger painter. A comparison of the modelings of the jaw, 
 the cheek-bones, the mouth, the eye, the hand ; a comparison of 
 the colors of flesh and robe, of the transparency of lights and 
 shadows, will prove that Bol never rose to Rembrandt's height 
 as a technician. He could not; he had neither the knowledge 
 nor the skill of hand, and above all he had not the mental grasp 
 of his master. Methods of the palette, focuses of light, pose.s, 
 sacrifices of color, were features that he, in common with the 
 other pupils of Rembrandt, levied upon antl tried to reproduce ; 
 but not one of them could seize upon Remlirandt's sympathetic 
 mind. It was an individual endowment, and as far beyond imi- 
 tation as the inventive genius of Tintoretto or the jc^yous spirit 
 of Correggio. 
 
FERDINAND i;OL 47 
 
 Comparisons are not popular in present-day criticism, and 
 yet they are the only means by which a man's rank among his 
 contemporaries can be estimated. Nor are they unfair if prop- 
 erly applied. It is not to be inferred that because Rembrandt's 
 pupils did not equal him that, therefore, they were wholly wanting 
 in good art. Ferdinand Bol was an excellent painter of the 
 second rank. He belongs in the second rank because he had 
 no great originality in either mind or method. He apparently 
 did not believe in what he himself saw ; he believed in Rem- 
 brandt's way of seeing. While his master's star was in the as- 
 cendant he paid it the compliment of reflection ; when it began 
 to pale to the popular eye, he looked about for a newer light. He 
 swung here, swung there ; and finally abandoned the pictorial 
 treatment of the Dutch to follow the Flemings with the historical 
 canvas, after the manner of the Italians. His success with the 
 composed figure piece was not great. It was an imitation, 
 and a foreign imitation at that. Bol was not more happy in it 
 than were the other Dutchmen of his time. His illumination 
 was against it, he rambled restlessly with his figures, and he was 
 never quite free from nervous constraint. His best work was 
 done when he was following Rembrandt with the Dutch subject 
 — the portrait. Here he was quite at home, and his shrewd, 
 perceptive qualities rendered him good service. He had not 
 that intense mental realization of the model peculiar to his mas- 
 ter ; but he possessed much clearness of vision, and saw acutely 
 the physical make-up of the man before him. 
 
 As a draftsman and a modeler he did not always show that cer- 
 tainty of touch that brings conviction, and yet the heads in the 
 "Regents of the Lepers' Hospital," at Amsterdam, are solidly 
 wrought out ; and the portrait that Mr. Cole has engraved has firm- 
 ness and substance about it. Accent he seems to have sacrificed 
 somewhat to an even surface. He was often over-nice with his 
 finish, and in that way brushed out much of the vigor that lies in 
 the first swift strokes of the brush. In composition he was, per- 
 haps, even cleverer than his master. His placing of lights and 
 darks, his balances of objects, his general filling of space, were 
 sometimes very shrewd. He had studied out the methods of the 
 studio as known in his time, and, like all the Dutchmen, he was a 
 trained workman. In light, though following his master, he was 
 not so violent in concentration. He spread the illumination over 
 
48 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 greater space, though reserving his highest lights for the promi- 
 nent features. It was usually a pale, ghostly light, and it resulted 
 in a pale, washed-out color. The flesh-notes were usually weak ; 
 the reds were toned down with admixtures of gray ; brown was 
 rubbed into his purples ; the violets and greens were bleached, and 
 a grayish-yellow tone predominated. He was seldom brilliant or 
 gay in contrasted colors. On the contrary, he seemed to have 
 chosen the harmony of accord rather than the harmony of contrast ; 
 and in this he was certainly pleasing, if not stimulating. 
 
 All told, Bol was not what one would call a great master. His 
 chief lack was in the element of personal conviction; Init he was 
 not lacking in charm of mood and grace of recitation. He had the 
 attraction, too, of refinement ; and it is not astonishing that he was 
 popular in his own day and generation. His pictures are now scat- 
 tered through the European galleries. The greatest number is at 
 the Hermitage, St. Petersburgh, though there are good examples 
 at Dresden, Munich, and Amsterdam. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 FERDINAND BOL was the oldest 
 student in Rembrandt's house in 
 Amsterdam. He was one of the first, 
 and by many is considered to have been 
 the best. Very Httle is known of his hfe. 
 He was born at Dort, in June, 1616, and 
 became a pupil of Rembrandt toward 
 1630, when about fourteen years of age, 
 and is not known to have had any other 
 instructor. In 1652 he became a citizen 
 of Amsterdam, and died there, on July 24, 
 1 680, a rich man. Bol is considered chiefly 
 as a portrait-painter, though he executed 
 many historical works, and his etchings 
 are highly esteemed. In his early pictures 
 he adheres to the manner of his master, as 
 may be readily observed in his portrait of 
 Saskia, Rembrandt's wife, in the Brussels 
 Museum, and in other of his works prior 
 to 1645, in which he comes very near his 
 master. After this he endeavors to strike 
 out for himself, and becomes different from 
 Rembrandt in every way, and does not 
 
 succeed very well, until finally we have 
 his masterpiece, in which he shows a style 
 of his own. This is the " Regents " in the 
 Ryks Museum at Amsterdam, which was 
 painted in 1649. It is a portrait group 
 of great excellence, and has been even 
 ranked superior to Rembrandt's works in 
 the truthfulness of its flesh-tones. It is a 
 large canvas (eight feet long by six feet 
 high), and represents the regents, or gov- 
 ernors, of the Lejiers' Hospital at Am- 
 sterdam — an institution abandoned in 
 1 862. There are four figures, clad in black, 
 and wearing broad-brimmed hats, the so- 
 lemnity of their attire being relieved by 
 the rich Persian covering of the table at 
 which they are seated, while an attendant 
 leads in a poor child whose disfigured 
 head tells the story and motive of the 
 work. Charles Blanc mentions that on 
 the occasion of an exhibition of paintings 
 for some charitable purpose, this canvas, 
 which had hung forgotten and unnoticed 
 
'PUKTkAIT UF A ^rAN," BV FERDINAND BOL. 
 
 l.dliVKE, I'AKIS. 
 
FERDINAND BOL 
 
 49 
 
 for two centuries in the old Leper House, 
 created quite a sensation ; and that during 
 the exhibition Rembrandt was neglected 
 for the sake of this fine work by his pupil. 
 
 Another life-size group by Bol in the 
 Ryks Museum, representing the lady pa- 
 tronesses of the same institution, is equally 
 fine; and, as Burger remarks, "When one 
 has seen these two works, one places Bol 
 above Van der Heist himself, and second 
 only to his great master." The refinement 
 attained by Bol at this later period is 
 shown by the " Portrait of an Astrono- 
 mer," the only work of this artist in the 
 National Gallery, London. It is dated 
 1652 — the year in which Bol went to 
 Amsterdam. 
 
 The subject which I have engraved — 
 
 " Portrait of a Man" — is in the Louvre 
 at Paris, and is dated 1659. It is a plain, 
 matter-of-fact subject, agreeably varied 
 ujion the canvas, frankly disposed in all 
 its parts, and its very careful and smooth 
 finish bears evidence of a discreet hand. 
 Its color is a simple scheme of rich warm 
 tints, but neutral. From the deep, tender 
 darks of the dress up through the browns 
 of the background, and from the delicate 
 greenish tints of the sky to the mellow 
 tones of the flesh, — the culminating point 
 of the whole, — all is sensitively bound 
 together by a very subtile feeling for har- 
 mony. The canvas measures three feet 
 diree inches wide by three feet ten inches 
 high. 
 
 T. C. 
 
GOVERT FLINCK 
 
Chapter IV 
 
 GOVERT FLINCK 
 
 (I6I5- 1660) 
 
 THE Bol portrait at Munich, once attributed to Rembrandt, 
 shows us the face of a man who has a painter's blink 
 about the eyes, a perceptive and an analytical look, 
 and a cunning if not winning turn of countenance. Whether the 
 portrait represents Govert Flinck, as we are now told, or merely 
 some worthy town merchant, will probably never be definitely 
 determined. The likeness seems, however, to tally very well 
 with what history tells us of the character of Flinck. His genius 
 was largely a genius for assimilation, and his ability an adapta- 
 bility. He was shrewd in taking advantage of everything that 
 could help him, and clever in learning what others had to teach. 
 His first master, Jacobsz, of Leeuwarden, was more of a preacher 
 than a teacher, and Flinck exhausted his stock of painter's know- 
 ledge at an early age. He then went with Backer to Am- 
 sterdam, to study under Rembrandt, of whom he doubtless knew 
 through Saskia's relatives at Leeuwarden. It is put down to his 
 credit that he had not been with Rembrandt more than a year 
 when he painted pictures that could not be told from the mas- 
 ter's. The story is doubtless true, and illustrates the absorbent 
 quality of the young painter. He and Eeckhout were excellent 
 followers when once Rembrandt had set the pace ; but when they 
 tried a pace of their own, they were not so successful. 
 
 Nevertheless, Flinck developed under Rembrandt considerable 
 strength ; and a great deal of easy manipulation of the brush 
 that has always made his work interesting to painters. His 
 modeling was not that of Rembrandt, especially in the face and 
 
 53 
 
54 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 hands ; his color was sometimes brilHant, but often lackinor in 
 depth ; his light was concentrated in measure like his master's, 
 but with less clearness ; and his shadows were like Eeckhout's 
 in their inclination to opacity. His work, however, made up a 
 general resemblance to the work of Rembrandt ; and that which 
 made it particularly effective with the masses was its glitter and 
 sparkle in local spots of light on jewelry, buttons, buckles, and 
 the like. In this he carried further than Rembrandt, as he did 
 also in his flowing style of handling. He had a facile manner 
 of brushing in hair, beards, loose robes, and draperies that gave 
 an impression of great mastery ; but his cleverness in this re- 
 spect will not always bear close analysis. It is intelligent but 
 not very profound work, for the very good reason that Flinck 
 himself was not a very profound man. The "David and Uriah" 
 at Dresden, and the "Isaac Blessing Jacob" at Amsterdam, show 
 him in the Rembrandtesque stage of his career, producing dash- 
 ing effects with much swing and gusto. Probably at about the 
 same time, or perhaps later, he produced such portraits as those 
 of Uytenbogaert and Vondel at Amsterdam, the former of which 
 was long attributed to Rembrandt. They are strong, compact 
 examples of portraiture that would reflect credit upon almost 
 any painter, and are further proof that a follower of a great 
 man is not necessarily a little or inconsequential person. Even 
 the Mannerists and Eclectics of Italy occasionally wrought with 
 a supreme power, and the pupils of Rembrandt were not all mere 
 imitators of their master. At times they used borrowed tools with 
 a masterful hand, and in quite an original manner. 
 
 Flinck seems to have been associated with Rembrandt, or at 
 the least under the influence of his style, from 1636 to 1648. 
 After the latter date his perceptions led him to think that Rem- 
 brandt was passe, and that a following of Rubens and the Ital- 
 ians would be more consonant with good art and popular ap- 
 plause. He always had a keen sense for the drift of public 
 caprice ; so he laid aside the chiaroscuro of his master, diffused 
 his litrht, and beran cultivatino^ line and form in the histori- 
 cal figure piece. The great flowing lines of Rubens seem to 
 have caught his fancy completely, and though he was unfitted 
 by nature and training to handle such sul)jects, he, neverthe- 
 less, took them u]) and won public fa\or with them. It was a 
 false step for him as a painter. All the true artist in him 
 
a>OKTRAIT OF A YuUNG fllRI.," UV (JOVERT FLI.N'CK. 
 
 LOU\Kt;, PARIS, 
 
GOVERT FLINCK 55 
 
 departed when he forsook Rembrandt and the Dutch subject. 
 His expansive composition was frail, his color became florid and 
 blatant, his flesh chalky, his handling slippery, ineffectual, uncer- 
 tain. There was a good deal of glitter and show about his his- 
 torical pictures, and, in consequence, many commissions poured in 
 upon him from court and official circles. Prosperity and patri- 
 cian acquaintances quite ruined him, and he ended as a perfunc- 
 tory delineator of classic or official themes, much like many a 
 latter-day academician. 
 
 Pdinck, quite diflerent from his great master, never knew the 
 pinch of poverty, the rich man's contumely, or the world's forget- 
 fulness. He was born rich, married a daughter of a director in the 
 East India Company, was patronized by the court and the munici- 
 pality, and, it is said, had so many commissions toward the last 
 that he turned over his portrait orders to Van der Heist. He died 
 at forty-five, and Vondel mourned over him in bombastic verse, as 
 a young Apelles prematurely called to the shades. He was, per- 
 haps, not undeserving of his success, for he was a painter of ability ; 
 but when we think of the public casting honors and commissions at 
 the feet of Bol and Flinck, — honoring them, too, for their catch- 
 penny features, — at the very time when Rembrandt was plunged in 
 obscurity and neglect, we are inclined to begrudge them that praise 
 which they really merit. Both Bol and Flinck were painters of 
 substantial worth ; but in studying their works we are never al- 
 lowed to forget the master who made them worthy. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 GOVERT FLINCK, born at Cleves signing his work during the term of his 
 in i6i 5, was among the earhest of apprenticeship. Though FUnck was eight 
 Rembrandt's pupils. He had previously years younger than his master, he yet en- 
 served an apprenticeship to Lambert Ja- joyed an intimate friendship with liim, 
 cobsz at Leeuwarden, and did not apply and in 1637 he painted his portrait, in re- 
 to Rembrandt much before the age of turn for that which Rembrandt painted 
 seventeen or eighteen. That he was an of him and his wife. He therefore prob- 
 independent master before he was twenty- ably married upon the termination of his 
 one is proved by his earliest pictures, dated apprenticeship with Rembrandt. At this 
 in 1636, among which is the " Pyrrhus" time he dwelt with the cousin of Rem- 
 in the Brunswick Museum ; and further- brandt's wife, Hendrik Ulenburgh ; and 
 more, by the fact that there existed a law a year later, in 1638, when only twenty- 
 in Holland which prohibited a pupil from three, he painted one of his most remark- 
 
56 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 able works, " Isaac Blessing Jacob," to be 
 seen in the Ryks Museum at Amsterdam 
 — executed, in all probability, under the 
 eye of his master. Flinck excelled par- 
 ticularly in portraiture, and this became 
 his chief occupation. His picture of tlie 
 " Regents," dated 1642, may be noted 
 among many otlier fine works of the Am- 
 sterdam Museum. It exhibits taste in ar- 
 rangement ; the heads are living ; and it 
 lias the breadth of treatment and the 
 glow of color peculiar to Rembrandt. The 
 " Portrait of a Young Girl," which I have 
 engraved, is one of the popular pictures 
 of the Louvre. It is the sweetest face that 
 I have encountered among the Dutch- 
 men, and its expression of innocence is 
 
 captivating. Her head is decked with 
 flowers. She holds in her hand a trowel, 
 or sand-shovel, of the sort that is popular 
 with children at the watering-places of 
 Holland. It is a life-size bust, 26 inches 
 high by 2iJ-^ inches wide, is signed, and 
 is dated 1641. The coloring is rich and 
 mellow, and the treatment of the drapery 
 is peculiarly Rembrandtesque. Flinck 
 had a good reputation at Amsterdam, and 
 in 1652 the freedom of the city was con- 
 ferred upon him. He had a zest for objects 
 of art, especially casts from the finest an- 
 tique sculpture, and drawings and engrav- 
 ings by the best masters. He died at 
 Amsterdam in 1660. 
 
 T. C. 
 
NICOLAES MAES 
 
Chapter V 
 
 NICOLAES MAES 
 
 (I632-I693) 
 
 Rembrandt's studio seems to have been a mild sort of lotus 
 land for his pupils. Once there they seemed to forget 
 I- their own individualities, and after they wandered from it 
 they were forever talking about it with the paint-brush. Of the 
 dozen or more of pupils, few escaped the impress of the master 
 mind. The explanation of this is perhaps easy enough. They had 
 not master minds of their own. They were able to receive an im- 
 pression, but not able to create one. There were a few exceptions 
 to this, however; and certainly one of the most interesting of the 
 exceptions was Nicolaes Maes. 
 
 If one looks at a picture by Flinck, Bol, or Eeckhout he is re- 
 minded of a something that Rembrandt might have done better; 
 but if one looks at the picture by Maes that Mr. Cole has engraved, 
 he is struck with the fact that this is something that Rembrandt 
 never did, or thought of doing. The subject, the sentiment, the 
 feeling, are Maes's very own ; and even the technic, the color, the 
 light, are somewhat removed from the Rembrandtesque formula. 
 Maes was a pupil of Rembrandt, yet he had a mind and an indivi- 
 duality that would not stand in absolute abeyance to another mind. 
 He liked and learned Rembrandt's method, but his cast of thouehi 
 
 & 
 
 was not in sympnfh y ^^nth R -o mlirnnrlt'r; '-. i ^^pct^-nn. hig pgyrh n]ngi - 
 
 cal view . He painted many portrait s, but his heart was not in the 
 study of the hurnarLJace* They made up his poorest work, and 
 were probably done to keep the wolf from the door. Smooth, flat- 
 tering impersonations, hued brightly to please the women, they 
 were remarkably successful in a popular way, and it was at one 
 
 59 
 
6o OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 time considered a favor to be allowed to sit to Maes ; but the work 
 was never other than just passing fair. His portraits do not show 
 the true feeling of the painter. 
 
 It is only in such subjects as Mr. Cole has engraved that we 
 see the jp.oetic-^ide_of Maes . A picturesqiie interio r, walls dashed _ 
 with Hghtand sli adow ^ a._fioaireor two, rich_rolnr, nti d a poeti c 
 §€nitioient,j3fjuie^Jigme_Jife^were things that evidently appealed 
 to him. It was a genre of his own, and he painted it best because 
 he loved it best. And how well he saw the character of such 
 themes! How well he felt the simpl€-lrulh—aft<i-tefltler pathos-el^ 
 ,humbh*4tfe_L Study the " Spinner" for a few moments, the feeling 
 of it, the subject and composition, the bend of the shoulders, the 
 outline of the head, the fall of the sleeve, the cramped hand — par- 
 ticularly the hand — and you will begin to think that Millet might 
 have painted the picture. The same poetry of the peasantry is 
 there. Maes was, perhaps, the source from which it originally 
 sprung. It does not appear in the works of any of his contempo- 
 raries. Steen, De Hooch, Terburg, Ostade never showed any 
 such feeling. It is Maes's own, the mark of his individuality that 
 kept him from being a mere echo of Rembrandt, and raised him to 
 the rank of a creative artist. 
 
 That he recognized the power of Rembrandt's method and was 
 apt in learning it, is quite true ; and yet, even here, he was some- 
 thing more than a follower. Sharp lights and darks, rich tones of 
 of color, forceful modeling, were shown by the master and accepted 
 by the pupil ; but they were varied, intensified, newly employed 
 by the latter. The shadows wereAaxk^^J the. light was white r, the 
 reds were de eper an djnore brilliant. More and more, as we study 
 his pictures, do we find how different he was from Rembrandt in 
 these features. The haunting sense of something like them seen 
 in Italy comes back to us. The sharp light, the blackish shadow, 
 and that intense red, are characteristics of Caravaggio's art. He 
 got them from Giorgione, and exaggerated them. But how or 
 where did Maes get them ? Did his master and his contempora- 
 ries learn them from Italian pictures in the Netherlands ; or did 
 the Dutch realize that their type of the human form was not fitted 
 in proportions and stateliness for line treatment, and so, from ne- 
 cessity, originated the picturesque treatment, with light and shade, 
 to meet their subject ? The pictures of Maes seem to ask these 
 questions, but fail to answer them. They are Dutch pictures with 
 
'THE Sl'INiNER," BV NICOLAES MAES. 
 
 KVKS Ml'SEL'M, AMSTERDAM. 
 
NICOLAES MAES 6l 
 
 something very like Neapolitan color and chiaroscuro. All of 
 which is further proof that Maes was not swept off his feet by 
 the genius of Rembrandt to his own detriment as a painter. 
 
 In composition Maes was very simple, and as a draftsman and 
 a modeler he was very strong. He knew how to give the substance 
 and the character of objects, and he did it with a force second only 
 to that of his master. In light and shade he was violent in contrast 
 at times ; and then again he would diffuse light through a whole 
 interior. Some of his shadows are to-day almost black and want- 
 ing in depth ; while his lights are often quite as arbitrary as those 
 of Rembrandt. He was given to handling sunlight in spots, throw- 
 ing it upon a wall or a floor, as after him Decamps, the painter of 
 the Orient. He gained forceful effects by these means, but with 
 some loss of truth in tone. This is especially noticeable in his fa- 
 mous ruby red, which, in conjunction with black, he was continually 
 using. Oftentimes his colors "sing," as Mr. Cole observes ; but they 
 "sing" falsely, because they are out of key. Again at times they 
 are noisy, flickering, and spotty — made so purposely for effect. 
 The Meulenaer portrait at Amsterdam, and the Godard portrait at 
 Dresden, are illustrations of the flashy play of light in his later style. 
 In them he seemed striving after a jewel-like brilliancy in color, 
 which, when attained, hardly "sang" in harmony with the half- 
 lights and half-tones. In handling he seems to have had two styles ; 
 one for the public, and one for himself His portraits are usually 
 smooth, thin, and of a porcelain-like surface. Even the little genre 
 piece, the " Idle Servant," in the National Gallery, London, 
 charming as it is in color and composition, is as smooth as though 
 polished and rubbed to an ivory finish. His best pictures, how- 
 ever, such as the " Two Spinners" at Amsterdam, are broader in 
 every way, the textures are not insisted upon, and the brush is a 
 little dryer. 
 
 Maes knew how to paint, but doubtless the necessities of life 
 often dictated what he should paint. He seems to have made a 
 business of portraiture, and a pleasure of genre. The portraits are 
 too pretty ; the genre pieces are too scarce. He painted few life- 
 sized subjects ; but the most important of these, I sometimes think, 
 is in the National Gallery, London, under the catalogue caption 
 "School of Rembrandt." It is the "Christ Blessing Litde Chil- 
 dren," with eleven figures in a group. The subject, the composition, 
 the handling, hardly speak for Maes ; but the types, the drawing. 
 
62 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 and chiefly the feeling of the picture, are more like Maes than any 
 Dutchman of the Rembrandt school. 
 
 In the i66o's, Maes went to Flanders, following the decadent 
 Flemings, and abandoning the Dutch subject and method of treat- 
 ment. His work after leaving Holland is hardly interesting, and 
 is far from being distinguished. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 NICOLAES MAES was born at Dor- 
 drecht, or Dort (where also Ael- 
 bert Cuyp, Ferdinand Bol, and Godfried 
 Schalcken first saw the Hght), in the 
 year 1632 — the year in which Rem- 
 brandt produced his famous "Anatomical 
 Lesson." He entered the great artist's 
 studio in 1650, when he was eighteen 
 years old, remaining under Rembrandt's 
 influence for four years, during which time 
 it is conjectured that his best works were 
 produced. 
 
 Nicolaes Maes was a veritable prodigy 
 in art at the age of sixteen, having at this 
 tender age painted " Le Benedicit6," a 
 work so fine that it holds its own among 
 the best creations of the Dutch school. 
 His best work belongs to his very early 
 years, but it is not known who were his 
 early instructors. He left Rembrandt 
 equipped as a painter of portraits, and, 
 confining himself to this branch, soon after 
 abandoned that of genre-painting, in which 
 course, however, the true path of his ge- 
 nius lay. He does not seem to have been 
 aware of this ; or, if so, he wilfully shut 
 his eyes to the truth from worldly consid- 
 erations. It was at a time when Rem- 
 brandt had lost favor, and such portrait- 
 painters as Van der Heist and Dirk Hals 
 were the lions of the day. Maes may 
 have been desirous of emulating these 
 fashionable painters. About 1660 he went 
 to Antwerp, where the Flemish school was 
 rapidly declining, and the field was com- 
 paratively clear. Jordaens and Teniers 
 
 were then almost the only survivors of the 
 great days of the art of Flanders. On vis- 
 iting the studio of Jordaens, he was ques- 
 tioned by that artist as to what manner of 
 painting he practised, and replied, " I am 
 but a portrait-painter." There seems to 
 be a note of regret in this, a momentary 
 reflection of his earlier and more poetical 
 days. He remained at Antwerp upward 
 of eighteen years, and became, it was said, 
 a " most successful portrait-painter." He 
 abandoned the good manner of his mas- 
 ter, and took up with the prevailing 
 Frenchified taste that was then becoming 
 the style ; and so great became the dete- 
 rioration in his work that it has been sup- 
 posed that portraits of more recent date 
 are not by the same artist, but are the per- 
 formances of some other Maes, a name 
 not at all uncommon in Holland. 
 
 During his lifetime, and until the end 
 of the last century, Maes was chiefly 
 known as a portrait-painter ; but his rep- 
 utation now rests upon his few superb 
 little pictures of every-day life. We are 
 touched with emotions of tenderness on 
 glancing at such subjects as the " Dutch 
 Housewife " of the National Gallery, 
 London, in which an old woman is si- 
 lently engaged in scraping a parsnip, 
 while a child, standing near by, is intently 
 watching the operation. It is charming 
 in its felicitous rendering of a trait of child- 
 hood. Or we are moved to solemnity in 
 presence of his " Grace before a Meal," a 
 remarkably fine work, in which an aged 
 
NICOLAES MAES 
 
 63 
 
 housewife, all alone save for the society 
 of her cat, with head raised and eyes 
 closed, is giving thanks before a simple 
 repast. This is in the Ryks Museum of 
 Amsterdam, where there are also two other 
 powerful representations of similar sub- 
 jects. Both are spinners ; one of them I 
 have chosen to engrave, not as being the 
 better of the two, — for I could not choose 
 between them, — but because its color is 
 better preserved. Most of the works of 
 Maes have darkened much by time; but 
 this litde gem, for some unaccountable 
 reason, seems to have retained its pristine 
 freshness and purity. Then, too, being 
 oblong, it is better suited to the shape of 
 the page, a consideration not to be lost 
 sight of in making our selections. 
 
 This little " Spinner " is painted on 
 wood, and measures sixteen inches and 
 one fourth high by thirteen inches and 
 three eighths wide. It unites subtlety of 
 chiaroscuro, vigorous coloring, and great 
 mastery in handling, with that true finish 
 which never becomes trivial. There is a 
 high note of color in the rich and glowing 
 red of the sleeves of the old woman, which 
 illuminates the whole in a delightful way, 
 and to which, as a culminating point, the 
 harmonies of the surrounding tints, the 
 warm depth of the background, the yellow 
 of the wooden floor, the brown of the spin- 
 ning-wheel, the richer and deeper hue of 
 the skirt below, the brighter color of the 
 red earthen jar, and the fine mellow tones 
 of the flesh, all lead up. It is this final 
 and glowing touch of red that makes the 
 whole thing " sing," to use a studio word. 
 There is a fine touch of warm blue intro- 
 duced in a bit of drapery that falls over 
 the bench of the wheel : and the whites 
 of the apron and of the kerchief about the 
 neck are of a very fine neutral shade in 
 the half-lights. I like the action of the 
 figure — its absorbed attentiveness, so sim- 
 ple, natural, and unaffected. Here we see 
 an experienced Dutch housewife — a ro- 
 bust and beautiful old woman, and a type 
 of her time ; one of those kind, hale, thrifty 
 
 souls whose mere presence breathes a 
 sense of homeliness and serenity. Noth- 
 ing, surely, could be finer than the breadth 
 and simplicity with which the features are 
 indicated. Only a consummate master 
 could attack such difticulties with the ease 
 and suppleness of handling, and the exqui- 
 site delicacy and solidity of touch, that 
 contribute to the charm and delight of 
 this work. 
 
 In his " Reverie " — a life-size in the 
 Ryks Museum — a beautiful girl leans 
 from a window, gazing into vacancy, quite 
 lost in delicious oblivion of the beholder. 
 She is in the heyday of youth, and it is 
 easy to see that she is dreaming of her 
 lover. In the Louvre there is a work of 
 quite opposite character, equally beautiful 
 in sentiment, however, though more touch- 
 ing in its pathos ; it is the only one pos- 
 sessed by that gallery. This is called " Le 
 Benedicite," and is the one I have referred 
 to as being the work of a lad of sixteen 
 years. It is in the La Caze collection, 
 and is an oblong picture twenty-two 
 inches high by sixteen wide, di.sclosing a 
 charming Dutch interior in which an old 
 woman, all alone, sits before a midday 
 meal in the act of silent prayer. The ar- 
 rangement is perfect. The light falls softly 
 from an upper window, — which is out of 
 the picture, — illuminating the principal 
 figure and the table, which is simply laid 
 with the loaf of bread, the cheese, the 
 plate of pottage, and the large ornamental 
 jug, all naturally disposed upon a white 
 table-cloth. Behind the table rises the 
 gloom of a high fireplace, from beneath 
 the mantelpiece of which hangs a string 
 of onions. In the shade of one corner of 
 the room is a spinning-wheel, and a cat 
 curls itself at the foot of the chair in which 
 the old woman is seated. 
 
 The painting is of the utmost refine- 
 ment and delicacy. The color, drawing, 
 expression, and action are above criticism, 
 and the chiaroscuro is really wonderful. 
 Everything displays the most sensitive 
 observation, and a knowledge which for- 
 
64 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 gets itself in the sincerity of depicting 
 things as they really are : the modeling 
 of the well-filled surfaces, the solid wall, 
 and the delicacy of the light as it steals 
 gently over it ; the forms so firmly drawn, 
 yet melting, airy, made mysterious by 
 the light and shade and play of the sur- 
 rounding air. It is the patient, religious 
 effort of an unsophisticated youthful ge- 
 nius. Superlative as is the workmanshij) 
 of this rare piece, it is yet the sentiment 
 pervading it which holds one — the sin- 
 cere, uplifted countenance of the sweet 
 old woman, so touching in its aspect of 
 devotion, the look coming from the soul 
 
 within. The light, catching her eye and 
 blurring it, gives to her vision a far-away 
 cast — a kindling of the inward spirit. 
 Her fragile frame, her clasped hands, and 
 her loneliness, raise in one a compassion- 
 ate feeling. All this painted upon a board 
 by a boy of sixteen ! The panel is signed 
 and dated 1648. What a wonderful lad ! 
 He was, indeed, a worthy candidate for 
 the tuition of a Rembrandt ; but unlike 
 that rugged spirit, he did not continue pa- 
 tiently in well-doing to the end. In 1678 
 Maes returned from Antwerp to Amster- 
 dam, where he .settled, and where he died 
 of the gout in 1693. ^ 
 
 T. C. 
 
BARTHOLOMEUS VAN DER HELST 
 
Chapter VI 
 
 BARTHOLOMEUS VAN DER HELST 
 
 (i6i3?-i67o) 
 
 THERE is no picture in Dutch art over whicli critics have 
 agreed to disagree so positively and persistently as the 
 famous "Schuttersmaaltijd," by Van der Heist, at Amster- 
 dam. It is an epitome of all the excellences and all the failings of 
 that painter; and it is not surprising that Reynolds, Immerzeel, 
 and Loots should exalt the one, and that Burger and the French 
 writers should take pleasure in pointing out the other. Perhaps 
 neither party to the disagreement has the whole of truth with it, 
 and perhaps both parties have failed to consider the limitations 
 and necessities of Dutch painting. 
 
 It should not be forgotten that Dutch art expressed itself prin- 
 cipally in the portrait. The painters handled the single figure ; 
 and either their usage or their inclination made it impracticable for 
 them to handle the large, composed figure piece. They knew litde 
 about line composition, had just as little conception of a broad light 
 distribution, and did not fully understand what is to-day known 
 as the enveloppe, in its application to the large canvas. A many- 
 figured group, with most of the Dutchmen, was a collection of 
 single portraits relieved by variety of pose ; but not concentrated 
 by subordination nor united by tone and atmosphere. It was the 
 technical shortcoming of Dutch art, and probably Van der Heist 
 illustrates it in a more exaggerated degree than any other master 
 of the school. 
 
 The "Schuttersmaaltijd" represents a banquet of the Amster- 
 dam Civic Guard, given in commemoration of the Peace of Mini- 
 ster, and shows some two dozen portraits of life size on a now 
 
 67 
 
68 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 oblong canvas, the picture having been cut down. The individual 
 portraits are excellent. Each head and hand belongs to its body ; 
 each pose, and dress, and expression, is characteristic of the sitter. 
 The variety is infinite, and extends to coloring as well as to feature. 
 Given the truthfulness of the separate likenesses, the painter's task 
 would seem to have ended — so far at least as his interest was con- 
 cerned. It was not the banquet scene that he was painting, but the 
 portraits of the officers. As for putting them all together to make 
 an etisenible and produce one united effect, he did not, and probably 
 could not, do it. He evidently did not know how. It would seem 
 as though he had cut out twenty-four single portraits and pasted 
 them on one canvas, so lacking is the principle of subordination, so 
 widely divergent are the different colors and lights, so absolutely 
 contradictory are the values. Th ere is no such thing as one li glit 
 over the whole gr oup ; there is no such thing as one atmosphere 
 surrounding and enveloping the whole scene. Heads in the back- 
 ground protrude into the foreground ; figures, coats, and hats fail 
 to keep their distance, and are put in regardless of planes. As a 
 result the canvas is not a united picture . It is a collection of sep- 
 arate portraits^; and that is about what its painter intended it 
 should be. 
 
 Van der Heist was a portrait-painter pure and simple. He was 
 a successful rival of Rembrandt, so far as popular esteem could 
 make him so ; and he is said to have been influenced by Hals, 
 though in just what way his pictures do not indicate. He was the 
 exact opposite of Rembrandt in chiaroscuro, the exact opposite of 
 Hals in handling and light. His work has more resemblance to that 
 of De Keyser than to either of the others ; though it is not known 
 that he gained anything from any of these masters. He was chary 
 in the use of shadow, and preferred sharp outline-drawing to the 
 modeled patch. All his drawing was accurate enough, though 
 somewhat precise. Likeness — the characteristic look and pose of 
 head, body, and hand ^ he doubdess gave to perfection. The 
 threadbare remark, that if all the heads and hands in the " Schut- 
 tersmaaltijd " should be cut off and thrown into a basket there 
 would be no difficulty in fitting them on their bodies again, was 
 doubtless an extravagant way of saying that the individuality, the 
 peculiar features of each person, had been well rendered. In color 
 he was not successful, either in the choice of hues or in their ar- 
 rangement ; and he probably had as poor an idea of the values of 
 
I'UkTRAir UF I'AUl. I'oTTER,' UV VAN DEK IlKLSl. 
 
 Tilt: HAGUE MUSIiLM. 
 
BARTHOLOMEUS VAN DER HELST 69 
 
 tones as any painter who ever thrust thumb through a palette. 
 This is not so noticeable in his single portraits as in his groups, 
 where colors^re_glaced in scattered array, ^uite regardless of their 
 t one o rjJidfercefattionships.' To cover over this defect he very often 
 beguiled himself, and his audience, by the play of light on the sur- 
 face of gold lace, embroideries, curtains, jewelry, and small still-life. 
 There is great vitality about his faces and poses ; but it is not 
 brought out by that verve of the brush for which his supposed in- 
 fluencer, Hals, was so famous. His surfaces are smooth, though 
 not thin or weak ; and often he is facile and cunning in his hand- 
 ling of draperies. 
 
 Mentally, he was like many another Dutch painter — shrewd 
 in his perceptions but decidedly unimaginative. The influence of 
 Rembrandt's mind touched him no more than the influence of Rem- 
 brandt's light. He was not a great thinker, not a man of emotional 
 feeling, not a man of poetic inclination. He was sensitive to a vis- 
 ual impression, and knew how to realize what he saw with consider- 
 able truth and exactness. His ability in reproducing the appear- 
 ance of the external made him a popular painter ; and he enjoyed 
 a great vogue at Amsterdam, where some of his best pictures are 
 still to be seen. The most satisfactory of his large pieces is that 
 of the " Syndics of the Arquebusiers," in the Ryks Museum. Of 
 his single portraits, Mr. Cole has engraved one of the very 
 best. It is not only interesting on account of its subject (Paul 
 Potter), but is a thoroughly well composed and well handled 
 picture. There is a startling " Portrait of Admiral Tromp," at 
 Munich, attributed to Van der Heist, which would give one a 
 new idea of this painter if the portrait were really painted by 
 him ; but inasmuch as it came from that fearfully and wonder- 
 fully catalogued Mannheim Gallery, one is at liberty to believe 
 it was done by De Keyser. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 VAN DER HELST was one of the teacher is supposed to have been Nico- 
 
 best known of the Dutch portrait- laes Elias, an eminent master in the art of 
 
 painters of his time. He was bom at portraiture. He rose to eminence in his 
 
 Haarlem about 1613, and removed while art, and was one of the founders of the 
 
 young to Amsterdam, where he married Painters' Guild of St. Luke. More than 
 
 in 1636, and where he died in 1670. His this is not known of his life. He flour- 
 
70 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 ished at a time when Rembrandt ceased 
 to be understood. He captivated by a 
 realism of treatment and a living indi- 
 viduality of character in his heads, to 
 which was added a coloring undisturbed 
 by any conscientious scruples about val- 
 ues. To understand him in relation to 
 Rembrandt one should see him at the 
 Ryks Museum, Amsterdam, where, in the 
 Rembrandt room, are two of his largest 
 and finest works, hung on either side of the 
 " Night-Watch." These are corporation 
 pictures, representing assemblages of mili- 
 tary officers, all hfe-size. One of these 
 great canvases, called the " Schuttersmaal- 
 tijd," represents a banquet given by a com- 
 pany of the Civic Guard of Amsterdam, in 
 commemoration of the Peace of Miinster 
 in 1648. It was of this painting that Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds said, "This is perhaps 
 the first picture of portraits in the world." 
 Startling and impressive as this work is 
 at first sight, from its realism, it yet fails to 
 charm because of its want of atmosphere 
 and chiaroscuro. The main object in these 
 splendid groups by Van der Heist is strong 
 and truthful delineation ofevery part, both 
 in form and color. We note the fine draw- 
 
 ing of the hands, so characteristic of each 
 sitter ; the clear coloring, and the excel- 
 lent execution of the details. But the gen- 
 eral effect is monotonous and cold. It 
 was said that Rembrandt's treatment of 
 his heads in the " Night-Watch " gave 
 occasion of demur to some of his sitters, 
 because he had not depicted them with 
 the same distinctness as those placed in the 
 foreground. Van der Heist gave no occa- 
 sion for such complaint, but gave every 
 man his money's worth. 
 
 Of the single portraits by Van der Heist, 
 that of the painter Paul Potter is among the 
 most interesting. It is to be seen in The 
 Hague Museum, and measures thirty-eight 
 inches and three quarters high by thirty- 
 one inches and a half wide. It was painted 
 in the last days of his sitter, and shows him 
 still at his easel, with palette and brushes 
 in hand, though in the last stage of con- 
 sumption. The pecuhar sallowness of the 
 complexion is heightened by the rich vel- 
 vet of the dress. From the palette we can 
 see how few were the colors that the 
 Dutchman needed to produce his marvel- 
 ous effects. 
 
 T. C. 
 
GERARD DOU 
 
Chapter VII 
 
 GERARD DOU 
 
 (I6I3— 1675) 
 
 THE name of Gerard Dou is one of the best known in the 
 annals of Dutch art. It is a name that bears a wide, though 
 perhaps exaggerated, reputation; and in artistic rank is pop- 
 uUuly placed above that of Terburg, though it does not belong there. 
 Doubtless the deceptive element in Don's pictures, and the care 
 bestowed iji^laborating small details, have contributed their quota 
 toward forming this popular opinion. The belief still obtains in 
 certain quarters that stone jugs, and carrots that look as though they 
 could be picked up, and wrinkles in a face that may be seen through 
 a microscope, constitute the acme of artistic achievement. It is use- 
 less to combat such a belief It springs up, like a live-for-ever, with 
 each new generation. 
 
 Dou was a painter who was great in little things. Largeness 
 of view was not a part of his endowment. He saw the world look- 
 ing through the reverse end of an opera glass, and all creation was 
 diminished to the proportions of a ten- by twelve-inch panel. Hu- 
 manity, houses, furniture, stone jugs, carrots, and brass pots ap- 
 peared as minute jewel-like objects, valuable merely for their tex- 
 tures, and the space they could fill on the panel. Nature, living or 
 dead, was to his view a studio property out of which to make a pic- 
 ture ; and the object of the jjjcturejwas never to_tell_ajie\v_trmh, 
 express a feeling, or touch a sympatheUG-^hord^but to show how 
 very clever the painter was in doing this-basiiv or that face, or the 
 other curtain or ma rble. What the painter's faith, hope, sentiment, 
 or feeling, no one can tell from his pictures. There is hardly a 
 shade of human personality about them. Rembrandt, Maes, Ter- 
 
74 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 burg all show themselves in their works ; but not so Dou. The 
 subjective element is absent, or at the least apparent only by its 
 absence ; and one is justified in believing that the painter never 
 had either a irreat mind or a threat heart. What he did have 
 was a clever, patient hand. 
 
 As a young man Dou was taught engraving by Dolendo ; after- 
 ward he studied glass-painting under Couwenhorn, and finally, he 
 spent three years under Rembrandt learning to paint in oils. Of 
 all Rembrandt's pupils Dou showed the least appreciable effect of 
 the master's teachines. So soon as he launched forth for himself 
 he seems to have forgotten all about Rembrandt's broad manner, 
 and to have gone back to the minute and somewhat mechanical con- 
 ception of the engraver and the glass-painter. Instead of reproduc- 
 ing the model before him with a graver, he reproduced the fixed 
 tacts of nature with a brush. I say "fixed facts," because, though 
 Dou painted figures and sometimes animals, he looked upon them 
 all as still-life, and painted them as fixtures. There is more action 
 in the " Night-School," that Mr. Cole has engraved, than in any 
 other of his works. Motion, he seemed to think, confused surfaces ; 
 and Dou was a painter of surfaces above everything else. The 
 marble basin and the brass chandelier, in his " Dropsical Woman" 
 in the Louvre, are just as important to him as the group of figures 
 around the sick woman. He cares quite as much for the one as 
 for the other, and none of them is more than a something to reflect 
 light or color — a something that is characterized by its surface. 
 
 If one is prepared to deny the need for human emotion, thought, 
 or feeling in art, — if one accepts painting as a mere report of literal 
 facts, — then Dou must be accounted an artist oi rank. He was a 
 very accurate reporter, working in the spirit of a miniaturist, and 
 producing panels that have all the minuteness of a miniature. He 
 was painfully careful that nothing should escape him. The stories 
 told of his lack of success as a portrait-painter because no one would 
 give him as many sittings as he required ; of the three days of work 
 on the broom-handle, and the five days devoted to a lady's hand — 
 a day each for a finger — all indicate that he was a painstaking 
 workman in the infinitely little. Time was no more an oliject to 
 him than to a Japanese worker in cloisonne. Patience and consci- 
 entious endeavor were his cardinal virtues. He slaved over parts 
 and their exact meaning; and in the end produced little more than 
 the etymology of art. That he was skilled is quite apparent in his 
 
GERARD DOU 75 
 
 work. There is no fumbling, or emendation, or feeling of clumsi- 
 ness about his brush. Doubtless he altered and added much, but 
 this is not visible in the picture. The work looks to be done easily, 
 if carefully. He knew exact drawing, and could compose a pic- 
 ture in a restful manner ; he knew Rembrandt's system of lighting, 
 which he found could be applied advantageously to small pictures ; 
 he knew color as an agreeable means of telling a fact, if not as a 
 poetic means of expressing a feeling. In textures and small-brush 
 handling he was a consummate master. Add to this a knowledge 
 of materials, and just what they were best fitted to accomplish, and 
 we have the equipment of a first-rate Dutch craftsman — the equip- 
 ment of Gerard Dou, painter. 
 
 The small panel with minute figures was more of a necessity to 
 Dou than to Meis.sonier. When he tried anything of large propor- 
 tions he broke down. The " Hermit," in the Ryks Museum, is an 
 illustration of his small method applied to a life-sized head. He 
 was at home in portraying the veining of marble with a single-haired 
 brush; he could out-Denner Denner with the wrinkles of an aged 
 face ; and all the minutiee of a window, a mirror, a candlestick and 
 a young woman holding it, were quite suited to his technic. One 
 wonders if the tale of such trifles is very important in the world's 
 history, or in art history ; but that raises again the question of 
 whether true art is objective or subjective. If it is objective, then 
 Dou was an artist; if it is subjective, then Dou was only a skilled 
 craftsman. He was certainly the latter, and if we name him artisan 
 rather than artist, he is still entitled to consideration for the beauty 
 and purity of his workmanship. 
 
 I 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 Twas the practice of the Dutch painters, than otherwise. Nevertheless, Gerard 
 
 in depicting candle-Hght eftects, to ar- Dou's candle-hghts, though showing the 
 
 range what they wished to represent in a influence of this method, are by no means 
 
 room artificially illuminated, and, retiring as dark or as red as one might suppose 
 
 to an adjoining room, in daylight, to view from the foregoing. He evidently modified 
 
 their subject through a small aperture cut the ill effect of the sensation received from 
 
 in the door for that purpose, thus painting peering through the aperture, by the im- 
 
 the candle-light from nature. Seen, how- pression natural to one when in and sur- 
 
 ever, in this way, the effect of candle-light rounded by candle-light at night. His 
 
 would undoubtedly appear darker and jiictures of such eftects, though darkened 
 
 redder from contrast with the daylight by time, are yet very delightful things to 
 
76 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 look at. Their effect of light is remarka- 
 ble. I well remember, on seeing for the 
 first time the " Night-School " at the 
 Ryks Museum, Amsterdam, how I put 
 up my hand to shut out the light of the 
 candles of the foreground, that I might 
 the better discern the objects in the back- 
 ground, forgetting for the moment that 
 they were not real, but painted, lights. 
 There are five lights in this picture, the 
 furthermost being only dimly perceived 
 in the extreme distance, as though held 
 by some one ascending a staircase. The 
 picture measures twenty inches and one 
 half high, by a trifle less than .sixteen 
 inches wide, which is a large-sized one for 
 the artist, whose works are usually much 
 smaller. 
 
 Dou was born in 1 613 at Leyden, the 
 same town that has tlie honor of claiming 
 Rembrandt as a citizen. He was Rem- 
 brandt's first pupil, and entered that mas- 
 ter's studio in 1628. This was when he 
 had attained the age of fifteen years, and 
 had already studied drawing for six years 
 under two other masters. Such was his 
 rajnd progress under Rembrandt that 
 three years sufficed to make of him an in- 
 dependent artist. He began by painting 
 portraits, but his manner of procedure 
 was too slow to suit the patience of his 
 sitters, and he chose the path of genre- 
 painting, representing familiar scenes of 
 every-day life. He had an instrument 
 made in which a diminishing-glass was 
 ])laced, which enabled him to see what 
 he was copying on the same scale as the 
 picture on which he was at work. He 
 made his own brushes, ground his own 
 colors, prepared his varnishes, panels, and 
 canvas with his own hands. He was an 
 enemy to dust, and took every precaution 
 to))reventit from settling upon his brushes 
 or canvas, and with a view to this end he 
 chose a studio opening upon a ditch of 
 water, which in Holland, the land of ca- 
 
 nals, was doubtless an easy matter to do. 
 He resided principally at his native city, 
 Leyden, where the novelty of his style 
 soon gained him fame and wealth. He 
 received high prices for his works, as all 
 men seem to have fallen in love with them. 
 It is recorded that when Charles II. re- 
 turned to England, the States-General 
 could think of no more precious gift to 
 present to his Majesty than one of Don's 
 works, the price of which is said to have 
 been 4000 florins. Such was the demand 
 for his paintings that a wealthy connois- 
 seur named Van Spiring gave him an an- 
 nual donation of 1000 florins merely for 
 the privilege of the first choice of the pic- 
 tures that he completed at the close of 
 every year, at the same time paying him 
 the price of the picture he chose like any 
 other purchaser. It is said that he greatly 
 impaired his eyesight by the minute finish 
 of his painting, and was consequently 
 obliged to wear spectacles when only 
 thirty years old. Indeed, the perfection 
 of finish and beauty of workmanship dis- 
 played in all his pictures are such that it 
 is a pleasure and an advantage to use a 
 magnifying-glass in the examination of 
 them, for then one can mark the exquisite 
 delicacy of handling. 
 
 Dou is said to have been an incessant 
 worker, beginning at the age of fifteen, 
 .and ending only with death in 1675, at 
 the age of sixty-two. There are only 
 two hundred of his pictures known in 
 the various public and private galleries 
 of Europe, thus making an average of 
 four or five paintings for each year of 
 his life ; yet, considering their micro- 
 scopic execution, it is remarkable that he 
 should have finished so many. He was 
 buried at Leyden, in Saint Peter's Church, 
 four years before his famous contempor- 
 ary Jan .Steen, who rests in the same 
 place. Of his pupils, Metsu and Miens 
 are of high renown in Dutch art. 
 
 T. C. 
 
"THE NIGHT-SCHOOL," BY GERARD DOU. 
 
 KYKS MIISEUM, AMSTERDAM. 
 
GERARD TERBURG 
 
Chapter VIII 
 
 GERARD TERBURG 
 
 (i6i7?-i68i) 
 
 Two painters of the same school could hardly be found more 
 opposed in art than Gerard Dou and Gerard Terburg. 
 The painting of the one was the exact appearance of real- 
 ity as near as pigments and a photographic eye could reproduce it, 
 with the man apparent only in the workman ; the painting of the 
 other was nature seen by a sensitive eye, told by a most cultured 
 hand, and influenced by as charming an individuality as any in the 
 realm of painting. Terburg was, all told, the greatest of the 
 " Litde Dutchmen" — a painter who to-day, notwithstanding his 
 many modern admirers, is not appreciated as he should be. He 
 belongs near Rembrandt and Hals, at the head of the school. 
 
 Such a position should be his not by virtue of his skill alone, 
 though he was one of the best of the Dutch technicians, but by 
 virtue of his clear_poi nt of view, h is artistic feeling, hi s strong _grasp 
 of character and fitnes s , his w inning fr ankness. Moreover, Terbursj 
 had one quality that no other Dutchman, save possibly his fol- 
 lower Metsu, possessed. That quality was culture ; and by culture 
 I mean style. The oft-quoted definition, " Style is the man," is but 
 a garbled e.xtract from Buffon ; and, as quoted, conveys a meaning 
 just the opposite from what Buffon intended. He meant, by style, 
 the final refinement of thought and method, the sifting and straining 
 of all that is fittest in the local to make up the universal. The 
 power of selection, the ability to discriminate between forms and 
 methods, so that only the best shall be accepted, are its requisites. 
 In itself it is an attainment more than an inheritance, and results 
 from education rather than from natural gift. It is taste refined by 
 
80 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 education and experience. This is precisely the quality that Terburg 
 possessed. He was the most cultivated of all his school. In Hol- 
 land he doubtless studied Dirk Hals and the Haarlemites, Rem- 
 brandt and the Amsterdam painters. Then at an early age he 
 went abroad, traveled in Italy, Spain, France, England, and studied 
 the art of the different countries through which he passed. Not 
 a trace of the influence of a single great artist can be seen in 
 his pictures. Leonardo, Titian, and Velasquez never made the 
 slightest puncture in his individuality. Yet he studied them all, 
 digested them all, and while always remaining Terburg the Dutch- 
 man, his view was, nevertheless, modified by the views of others. 
 His study produced culture, and his culture produced that selective 
 quality in his work which I have called style. We see it in his 
 paintings as in Raphael's drawings. There is nothing to add or to 
 take away. Everything is well thought, well wrought, and well 
 brought. Of its kind the work is perfect — a wise mingling of the 
 best feeling, the best form, and the best expression. 
 
 Undoubtedly Terburg's mind was predisposed by nature toward 
 the refined and the elevated in art. He was an aristocrat in feeling 
 as in subject. In his pictures he never laughs like Hals, or bawls 
 like Brouwer, or simpers like Netscher. His men and women are 
 well-bredj reserved, restful liLface andjDOse.; and yet full of sterling 
 character, ^asily, sil ently, undr ainatically, they work in and up on 
 o ur su scepti bilities . What more BayardHike people can be found 
 in the picture-galleries of Europe than those portrait heads by 
 Terburg, looking out of their oval frames at Berlin ! And, again, 
 what dignity and simplicity of character are theirs! It is just so 
 with his genre pictures. I4«^ is so sirnpls_with_a_diaij^-ii,J^b]fi^ a 
 wall,_jijid_-two-xaLtlireeJigjjres,that at first one is disposed^tojliink 
 lijm_ia£king_jn_j^iavcatio^^ charm. 
 
 His sense of selection and subordination tells him that a few well- 
 chosen objects are better than a roomful of spotty bric-a-brac. He 
 doe s not give an_ inventoryjjfjiianvthings,: Ije tel ls the ir u^Jiuig- 
 of a fewjhings. And what character there may be in a chair or 
 table, one may only discover by studying them closely in the works 
 of Terburg. He is not trying to tell anything unusual about them. 
 They do not "stand out," or have deceitful surfaces, or glittering 
 lights. They simply look like a chair and a table in a room. His 
 figures are treated in the same way. They have no^_patla0s^_or 
 hiunQr.^aJjouLJJiem^ They_spea]i^Qnly_thetnithj3^^ a 
 
THE LUTt: PLAVKR," T.V GERARD TERBURG. 
 
 CASSEL GALLERY. 
 
GERARD TERBURG 8l 
 
 Jruth without display or ma nnerism ^ and yet a truth so profound 
 that It startles us when at last we fully realize it. Nothing but a 
 mind great in its primitiveness could see such meanings in the ob- 
 jects and people of every-day life ; nothing but a most cultured 
 method could ever make them apparent to others. Terburg had 
 both of these, and they worked together in such unison, so uncon- 
 sciously and yet so definitely, that they revealed a truth apparently 
 without effort, and so simple that we marvel at its simplicity. And 
 there in Terburg we have one of the most charming qualities in 
 painting — naivete. 
 
 But naivete in art must not be construed to mean the boy- 
 ish or the immature. It is usually the very loftiest mental attain- 
 ment, the last word of technical maturity. It is to see the essences 
 of things, and to tell them frankly, sincerely, soberly, direcdy. Turn 
 a moment, now, to Mr. Cole's illustration of the " Lute Player," 
 and see how Terburg has done this. The figure is slight, girlish, 
 ingenuous, artless. The young woman is an amateur in music, and 
 how interested she is ! How unconsciously she plays ! She is 
 playing for her own pleasure, and has no thought of an audience. 
 Note the bend forward of the body, the eagerness of the face, the 
 half-opened mouth, the nervous hands, the tight clasp of the instru- 
 ment against the body. The drawing should be examined closely, 
 beginning with the cheek and neck and following down to the sub- 
 stantial shoulders and body under the jacket. Is there not a feel- 
 ing of form, a sense of substance, and that, too, given with the 
 slightest of means ? The push out of the knees, the drawing of the 
 left leg, that runs so naturally and gracefully into the dainty foot on 
 the stool, are they not well shown ? Then study the simplicity of 
 that satin gown, the lines of it made by the knees, the edge of it 
 trailing on the floor. Look up a little at the fur-edged jacket, and 
 see how flat it lies in the lap, how simply it is brought around and 
 puffed out at the back by the bend forward of the figure. Could 
 anything be plainer and yet truer ? Study a moment the drawing 
 of the chair, and particularly the table, from which the heavy cloth 
 falls in unbroken sweep, save at the corners. Again, could anything 
 be done simpler? 
 
 If the drawing is satisfactory, and it cannot fail to be, examine 
 a moment the elements of the composition ; the light figure balanc- 
 ing the dark table, upon which the books and boxes are made to 
 repeat the white of the dress, the straight lines of the room and the 
 
82 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 furniture relieved by the curved lines of the figure. Then study 
 the relationship of these objects to the background; the distance 
 from the table to the wall, from the chair and the figure to the wall. 
 How exactly Terburg has maintained the value of each object, even 
 to the flat map hanging at the back ! How truly the figure is 
 placed so that it neither protrudes in the foreground nor recedes in 
 the background ! How omnipresent is the feeling of atmosphere in 
 the room ! Look still further at the manner in which the textures 
 have been painted. One can almost see the brush-marks on the 
 objects lying on the table, and feel the heavy woven fabric of the 
 table-cloth. In the figure the textures of flesh and of cloth are 
 equally well rendered. The fur-edged plush jacket, the gold- 
 braided satin gown, are apparent in their surfaces, even in the en- 
 graving. We are told that Terburg painted these pictures just to 
 show how deceptively he could render the sheen of satin. If that 
 were true he would be a small painter, indeed — almost as small 
 as Netscher, who painted satin gowns quite as effectively. Un- 
 doubtedly, Terburg delighted in working over satin ; but is there 
 no other object in its use than to show its sheeny surface ? Look 
 again at the picture, and you will see that the figure is a mass of 
 light surrounded by darks. The satin is the illumination of the 
 picture, and Terburg used its scintillating gleam to light up the 
 whole interior. Something bright was necessary to the composi- 
 tion of the piece, and he chose a light dress. If to good drawing, 
 composition, and painting, we should now add a scheme of delicate 
 broken colors, brilliant yet refined, warm yet silvery-toned, clear 
 and yet every note in value, we should have, perhaps, as perfect 
 a piece of workmanship as was produced in the seventeenth cen- 
 tury. And this is not Terburg's masterpiece. It is not lofty 
 enough in feeling, or deep enough in sentiment, to show him 
 at his best. It simply shows Terburg's naivete, his culture, 
 his style. 
 
 Terburo- was a finished workman. He drew well, handled color 
 well, painted well. In the Salle Carre of the Louvre his "Officer 
 and Girl" hangs near Don's " Dropsical Woman," and a study of 
 the workmanship of each will disclose the great difference between 
 the men. There is not a trace of the tin-like or the mechanical in 
 Terburg. He is spontaneous, discriminating, selective, where Don 
 is minute, exact, almost trifling. Don tells all he sees and knows ; 
 Terburg has a reserve quality that suggests great force held in 
 
GERARD TERBURG 83 
 
 abeyance. He knows what to give and where to stop, and he does 
 it all so easily, so frankly, so honestly, that we cannot escape the 
 conviction that a master eye sees and a master hand records. Was 
 there not also a master mind back of them? Most assuredly. It 
 is, after all, the mental attitude that makes a work of art. Ter- 
 burg's mind was charming in its frankness, incisive in its penetration, 
 synthetic in its workings. It grasped the salience of everything, 
 sifted the accidental from the characteristic, and produced the latter 
 in its simple purity. He saw truth of character in the refined and 
 the elegant as readily as Steen in the low and the gross. Nature 
 under his brush became filled with new meanings, for he saw that fit- 
 ness to a designed end which nature stamps upon all her creations. 
 And there we are around once more at the most virile quality of 
 Dutch painting — character. Terburg's work is an epitome of it. 
 He saw it in a chair leg as in a human face, and he told it in the 
 most refined and cultured manner of any genre painter of his time. 
 There are few of his pictures left to us, but each one of them is 
 worthy of long study. They are small and unpretentious, with none 
 of the great sweeping power of the Italian pictures. They never 
 touch the austere or the sublime ; and have not a trace of the 
 classic or the ideal. They are merely tales of upper-class life in 
 Holland ; but they are told with that simple faith and honest belief 
 that make the simplest things in nature of great pith and moment 
 in art. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 THE birth of Terburg, which took to Holland by way of France, he re- 
 place at Zwolle, is fixed by recent mained some time at Amsterdam, and 
 discoveries as happening in 1617 instead probably learned much from the works of 
 of 1608, the hitherto commonly received Rembrandt. 
 
 date. Terburg's parents were wealthy, As he happened to be at Miinster in 
 
 and his father, who instructed him in 1646, during the sitting of the memorable 
 
 drawing, was an amateur painter who Peace Congress, he painted for his own 
 
 had visited Italy in his youth. Gerard pleasure the marvelous little picture of 
 
 was soon placed under a teacher in Haar- the " Ratification of the Treaty of Peace," 
 
 lem, — one Peter Molyn, — and it was not which is now to be seen in the National 
 
 long before he there became a member Gallery, London. After the signing of 
 
 of the Guild of St. Luke. While still a the treaty in 1648, the Spanish ambassador 
 
 youth he visited England, and thence set took Terburg with him to Spain, and thus 
 
 out on further travels, passing through enabled the still young painter to see what 
 
 Germany into Italy, where he studied the the great Velasquez had done and was 
 
 works of the great Italians. Returning doing. In two years he was back again 
 
84 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 in Holland, and finally settled at Deven- 
 ter, where he married, and rose to the dis- 
 tinction of a member of the town council, 
 in which character he has left us a por- 
 trait of himself, to be seen at The Hague 
 Museum. At Deventer he passed the 
 remainder of his quiet life, and painted 
 the majority of his works. His death took 
 place in 1681, and he was buried at 
 Zwolle, his native town, in accordance 
 with the terms of his will. 
 
 Terburg was the first genre painter of 
 Holland to paint subjects taken from 
 the wealthier classes of society — inte- 
 riors in which richness of costume and 
 drapery, and of all accompanying details, 
 is rendered with exquisite feeling com- 
 
 bined with realistic truth to nature. His 
 pictures, which are among the rarities of 
 European galleries, not more than eighty 
 having been classified, are seldom com- 
 posed of more than three figures, and often 
 of only one, and represent scenes such as 
 are in general termed " conversations" — 
 parties at cards, gallantries, visits, etc. His 
 ladies generally are dressed in white satin, 
 which material he seemed fond of paint- 
 ing, and no one has ever been able to sur- 
 pass him in this. The satin robe, indeed, 
 appertains to Terburg. He also painted 
 portraits, generally on a very small scale, 
 and these are full of aristocratic distinc- 
 tion, and exhibit his finest qualities. 
 
 T. C. 
 
GABRIEL METSU 
 
Chapter IX 
 
 GABRIKL METSU 
 (1630-1667) 
 
 METSU, from his work, for we know little about his life, seems 
 To'have been a mingling of Terburg aiid Dou — the half- 
 way man in art wlio helped himself from both ends of the 
 line. He was Don's pupil ; he was Terburg's follower. In addi- 
 tion, he admired Rembrandt's work, and absorbed of that as much 
 as he thought wise or profitable. He seems to have been somewhat 
 uncertain in aim in his early years ; but later he developed an inde- 
 pendence, and showed a good deal of invention, especiall)- in his 
 treatment of the conventionalized interior group. Never a great 
 mind, he never created anything great ; but he had taste, delicacy, 
 charm, and a forceful technic that went to the making of an art 
 highly esteemed by the masses, and praised by so great a painter- 
 critic as Fromentin. 
 
 Terburg led the way in the fashionable upper-class genre, and 
 Metsu, with something of Terburg's elevated spirit, adopted the 
 same subject, though he occasionally went off to paint common folk 
 and market pieces like the rest of the Dutchmen. His lil-d ngjicnv- 
 eve r. was for the handsomejnterior with rich furnishings and courtly 
 geople. These he pain ted with a delicate sensibility of what was 
 true refinement, a s opposed to the tawdry, flash elegance of the 
 painters who came after him. An aristocratic bearing, a well-bred 
 manner about his people, are slight reminders of the art of Van 
 Dyck, though it is not known that Metsu was ever influenced by 
 the Fleming. It was probably his natural inclination of mind, for 
 we feel the same refinement not only in his subjects, but in his 
 manner of handling them. 
 
 87 
 
88 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 I g composition he haxl not Terburg^ simpli rity. He j^nnlHnnl^ 
 seetrut hs so p lain ly, nor _tell theiiL,aQ,£asily^_aiid so he was not s o 
 successful in making a^iicture ouL_o£a chair, a tablji^aiid a figure 
 as JerbiLTg. He was iiixxs-^laborate in every way, without weary- 
 ing one by catching at many details. His costume was more fan- 
 ciful, his still-life more frequent, his furnishings — rugs, curtains, 
 windows, pictures on the wall — were more ornate. But there was 
 moderation in all this, and the picture was never loaded with more 
 material than it could gracefully carry. In its arrangement he was 
 fond of symmetry, and was, at times, a little formal in his repetitions 
 of objects. The "Vegetable Market" at Amsterdam, the "Music 
 Lesson " at London, and the picture herewith shown, are illustrations 
 of this repetition. Mr. Cole has called attention in the picture he has 
 engraved to the balance of the glove on the floor by the clog at the 
 left ; and I may add that the man balances the woman hand for 
 hand, the boy balances the table, the dish of fruit in his hand bal- 
 ances the vase on the table. Object for object and light for light 
 repeat each other across the picture. This is not by any means 
 disagreeable ; it is only a little precise, and dulls the edge of what 
 might otherwise be considered delightful simplicity. 
 
 In drawing Metsu was thoroughly trained, and knew how to give 
 the use and meaning of such a thing as a hand as positively as any 
 of his contemporaries. He was particularly strong in his charac- 
 terization by movements, actions, gestures — something he may 
 have gotten from Rembrandt, though he applied it in his own way 
 to his own people. The inclinations of the heads in the engraved 
 picture are expressive to the last degree. The attitude of the offi- 
 cer, the bend forward of the figure, the pose of the legs, the hand 
 holdingr the hat, all have direct meanings. And then look at the 
 shy interest of the boy ! How characteristic the turn of the head, 
 the movement of the figure! In light Metsu tollowed Rembrandt's 
 method at a distance, illuminating by spots here and there, but not 
 sacrificing the intermediate notes of color as did Rembrandt. He 
 was a stickler for values (though he never heard the word), and 
 could give the exact light or dark of a tone with as much accuracy 
 as Terburg. The ciivcloppc — the atmospheric setting of a picture 
 — he studied out with rare knowledge, and he was seldom, if ever, 
 faulty in giving the truth of aerial perspective. His color was made 
 up of broken tones delicately blended, with the same silvery quality 
 to be seen in Terburc's work, thouHi he was not so harmonious or 
 
■UN MILirAIklC RF.CEVANr UNE JliUNE IJAME," BV GABRIEL METSU. 
 
 LOUVRE, PARIS. 
 
GABRIEL METSU 
 
 89 
 
 deep in quality as the man he followed. Nor was he so strong or 
 free in handling. Here his apprenticeship to Dou cropped out. 
 The engraved picture is broadly and freely executed, but it is an 
 exceptional work. His painting was usually smooth, slight, and 
 inclined to thinness, with an occasional finical, fussy panel thrown 
 in to remind us of the way pictures are painted on snuff-boxes. 
 
 Metsu hardly belongs among the leaders of Dutch painting, and 
 yet it would be unjust to say he was a second-rate man. He was 
 too good a painter to be classed among the miscellaneous followers 
 of a popular movement. He was not, however, marked by any 
 distinguishing excellence that would place him on a plane with men 
 like Terburg. He was in Holland much like Lorenzo Lotto in 
 Venice — not a painter of the highest rank, but one of charm, and 
 one whose works are entitled to much consideration and respect for 
 their sensitive individuality. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER. 
 
 GABRIEL METSU takes us into 
 the dwellings of the wealthy and 
 refined, and aftbrds us a glimpse of the 
 elegancies of Dutch life amid sumptuous 
 appointments. We admire the hang- 
 ings and furniture of the apartments, the 
 walls aglow with stamped leather reheved 
 by ebony frames of mirrors, the great 
 chimney with its sculptured marble frieze 
 and pillars, the brocaded bed-hangings, 
 the richly decorated cabinets and ward- 
 robes, all so daintily neat and bright — 
 fit setting for the fair dames and their 
 admirers, all in rich and rare costumes, 
 and rustling in satins and brocades. 
 
 But Metsu, it seems to me, is preemi- 
 nent among his class in that he subordi- 
 nates his rich accessories so that they 
 appear but the natural adornments and 
 appendages of his noble and beautiful 
 characters. So perfectly has the artist en- 
 dowed his beings with personality and 
 life, that we are attracted at once to his 
 interesting personages, and insensibly are 
 led to speculate as to the nature and dis- 
 
 position of their minds. The painting I 
 have engraved is one of Metsu's best 
 works, entitied " Un Militaire Recevant 
 une Jeune Dame," and is full of his finest 
 qualities. What delicate observation of 
 character there is here I This military 
 personage, — a perfect gentleman, albeit a 
 trifle affected in his gravity, — ceremoni- 
 ously standing and saluting the lady — 
 what an air of quality he has ! His 
 jeweled trappings count for nothing in 
 comparison with the courtly dignity and 
 repose that are shown in his whole bear- 
 ing. And the lady — what a charming 
 frankness speaks not only from her counte- 
 nance, but from the gesture and attitude 
 of her whole being ! 
 
 The composition is quite faultless in 
 the arrangement and balance of its parts. 
 To consider well the disposition of the 
 several objects in their relation to one 
 another is an instructive study. There 
 is nothing superfluous or wanting, and 
 everj'thing is adjusted with the nicest taste 
 and judgment. Notice, for instance, how 
 
90 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 the glove upon the floor, with the walking- 
 stick above it, offsets the dog ujion the op- 
 posite side. In the lighting of the figure 
 of the woman, how the strong juxtaposi- 
 tion of the white kerchief about the head 
 and shoulders with the black velvet bod- 
 ice of the dress makes the background 
 swim ! Unfortunately, the picture has been 
 darkened a little by time, though the 
 beauty and refinement of its coloring, and 
 the delicacy of its workmanship, are still 
 a delight. 
 
 Metsu was a native of Leyden, and was 
 
 born in 1630. Gerard Dou is said to have 
 been his early instructor, and already in 
 1644, when only fourteen years old, he 
 had become a member of the Leyden 
 Guild of Painters. In 1650 he removed 
 to Amsterdam, where he probably spent 
 the greater part of his life. There exist 
 between 120 and 130 of his paintings, 
 .scattered for the most part among the 
 public and private collections of Europe. 
 Metsu died at Amsterdam in 1667, at 
 the early age of thirty-seven years. 
 
 T. C. 
 
ADRIAAN VAN OSTADE 
 
Chapter X 
 
 ADRIAAN VAN OSTADE 
 
 (1610-1685) 
 
 FROM the drawing-rooms of Terburg and Metsu, with their 
 well-bred people, to the taverns and cottage interiors of 
 Ostade and Brouwer, with their coarse boors and peasants, 
 is something of a descent. It should not, however, be allowed to 
 influence the judgment too much. The subject in art has always 
 been with painters a comparatively inconsequential feature. Art 
 consists more in the way an object is seen than in the object itself; 
 more in the manner of telling than in that which is told about. 
 Many things that furnish e.xcellent material in painting are distaste- 
 ful in the actual presence. Even Troyon's " Shepherd and Sheep," 
 that one would gladly hang in the library, would be hounded off 
 the lawn did they make their appearance there in the life. Just so 
 with the objects of commonplace life in Holland. We may not care 
 for these drinkers and card-players around our tables. They are 
 not clean, or genteel, or graceful ; and are better fitted for the 
 kitchen than the drawing-room. But consider how picturesque they 
 may be in art, what fine qualities of color and light and shade they 
 may possess ! Consider what truth of character the painter may 
 see in them, for character may make the ugly beautiful and the 
 unlovely lovable. Finally, consider the delicacy of the painter's 
 workmanship. It will never be found brutal, or low, or degraded, 
 or ugly. With these painters of low life one meets with an elevated 
 and refined method of painting that would heighten the glory of a 
 madonna's face and add luster to the wings of an angel. 
 
 The chief interest of a national art, aside from its being good 
 art, is that it records a time, a clime, and a people. Of what value is 
 
 93 
 
94 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 the work of the Romanized Dutchmen and Flemings who followed 
 the Italians, and tried to produce the grandeur of the ideal ? It is 
 a tissue of falsehood, utterly lacking in spontaneity and sincerity. 
 How much better, as more honest, the work of Ostade, who stayed 
 at home and pictured his own kind, painted what he saw before 
 him, and painted it all the truer because he knew it intimately ! 
 Unconsciously, perhaps, he gave the likeness of a sturdy people 
 and told the physiognomy of an epoch. He did his part to build 
 up that national art of Holland which never would have been good 
 art had it not smacked of the soil. And those who are nearest to 
 the soil have as much place in art as those born to the social graces. 
 Courbet and Millet and Israels have recently been telling us that 
 truth over again. It is not a political right that any of them has 
 insisted upon; it is a pictorial right. The uncouth peasant in his 
 somber colors, the toper in the ale-house half lost in a bank of 
 shadow and air, the rickety vine-clad cottage with its straw- 
 thatched roof, its weather-beaten surface, its children and animals 
 glowing in color, are all beautiful if we can only get the idea of 
 marble halls and stately Greeks in classic costumes out of our 
 heads. We must get the point of view, else we are hopelessly out 
 of focus and wanting in discernment. 
 
 There is certainly nothing eclectic about either the people or 
 the settings of Ostade's pictures. It is Dutch nature with all its 
 beauties and all its deformities, yet put together with an emphasis 
 of the picturesque that tells the artistic eye and the clever hand of 
 a thoroughly trained painter. Many subjects appealed to him, 
 single figures, sacred themes, streets, markets ; but he preferred 
 the cottage doorstep with small squat figures, or the dingy ale- 
 house with peasants or topers. The quaint nooks, doors, windows, 
 eaves, stairways, the odd groups, chairs, benches, and still-life, all 
 lent themselves charmingly to composition. He distributed them 
 about on his canvas with a regard for equipoise, he made them bril- 
 liant as notes of repeated color, he brought them together and har- 
 monized them under light and shadow. They were the materials 
 of picture-making which he used to the very best advantage. He 
 never distorted or falsified their integrity. On the contrary, he 
 arranged them so that their truth of character would be the more 
 apparent. And in this arrangement or composition he was one of 
 the masters of his kind. One of his dumpy figures, that seems put 
 in a picture at haphazard, if taken out, would soon show a some- 
 
ADRIAAN VAN OSTADE 95 
 
 thino" wanting ; and a change of color in a curtain, a table, or a 
 coat, would mean discord at once. In drawing he reduced every- 
 thino- to the simplest forms, as may be seen in the accompanying 
 enoraving of the " Fish Market." The lines of the building, the 
 hat and coat of the fish-monger, the tables, the fish themselves, 
 should be studied. They are all reduced to their elemental strength ; 
 yet see what that strength means in the bulk of the figure, the firm 
 modelino" of the face and hands, the solidity of the table, the flatness 
 of the fish. It is strength as positive as brush and pigments are 
 capable of giving; and it is so largely because it is elemental. In 
 this feature Ostade reminds us of F"rans Hals, whose pupil he was. 
 
 There can be little doubt that Ostade was influenced by Rem- 
 brandt's light and color. He made a strong central light, and, if it 
 was necessary, he illuminated the sides of the canvas and the back- 
 o-round by repeated spots of light. He did not usually sacrifice 
 color under shadow, as Rembrandt did, though he occasionally 
 bleached it in full light, to gain greater illumination or greater relief 
 His shadows were luminous, except toward the end of his career, 
 when they became dark and often black. His gamut of color was 
 brilliant and yet not flaring. At first he was inclined to steely 
 grays with some sharpness in the treatment; but after 1640 he 
 became warmer in light-browns and golden hues, his hook-nosed 
 boors put on a ruddy look, and he used pale violets a good deal 
 in costumes. Toward the last his color became chilled and opaque. 
 In handling he was not an unworthy pupil of Hals, though he 
 never had his master's great freedom. He used a more flowing 
 pigment than Hals, and was remarkable for what painters call 
 "fat" painting — that is, painting containing lusciousness, depth, 
 and body. He was one of the best of the genre painters as a brush- 
 man ; and doubtless Jan Steen was largely beholden to him for his 
 dexterous touch, since he was Ostade's pupil. 
 
 His pictures are scattered through the European galleries, and 
 one may notice a variance in their quality for which the painter is 
 not altogether responsible. His brother Isack was his pupil, and 
 learned his manner so cleverly that many of his pictures are attrib- 
 uted to Adriaan. 
 
96 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 IT is said that Millet's admiration of the 
 Dutch masters amounted to venera- 
 tion. A friend who knew intimately the 
 great peasant painter showed me an etch- 
 ing by Ostade from which it is plain to 
 see that Millet borrowed somewhat for his 
 famous jjicture of " The Angelus " ; for 
 Ostade, like Millet, jiainted scenes taken 
 from the ordinary peasant life of his neigh- 
 borhood. The etching represents a poor 
 peasant family gathered about a frugal 
 meal, and in the act of giving thanks; 
 from the simple treatment, the touching 
 sentiment, and the genuine and unaffected 
 feeling, truly nothing could be more cal- 
 culated to move one with inward meltings 
 of humanity and compassion. Millet held 
 this work in particular esteem, and those 
 who know his " Angelus " will recognize 
 in this etching the original of the young 
 man standing in a devout attitude, hold- 
 ing his hat in both his hands, as well as 
 the charming attitude of the woman, with 
 bent head and clasped hands. 
 
 Adriaan van Ostade was born at Haar- 
 lem in i6io, and continued to live there 
 until his death in 1685. He was former- 
 ly sujjposed to be a native of Lubeck, to 
 have painted much at Amsterdam, and to 
 have died there; but this is now found 
 to be erroneous. His father, who is said 
 to have been a weaver, was of no incon- 
 siderable standing in his community, and 
 had a family of eight children, whom 
 he brought up in good circumstances. 
 Adriaan was the third, and his brother 
 Isack — who also became a painter of re- 
 pute — was the youngest. The name Os- 
 tade was derived from a small hamlet of 
 that name (now called Ostedt),near Eynd- 
 hoven. 
 
 Adriaan entered the school of Frans 
 Hals when that master was in the full 
 vigor and practice of his art. Adriaan 
 Brouwer was then also studying under the 
 same master. On the completion of his 
 
 apprenticeship he established himself in a 
 shop of his own in his native town, where 
 he labored with industry and lived in good 
 circumstances. He had several pupils, 
 prominent among whom were his brother 
 Isack, and, as is supposed, the more fa- 
 mous Jan Steen. In more than one pic- 
 ture Ostade has given us a view of an 
 artist's workshop of the time. In the Am- 
 sterdam Museum there is one before which 
 I have often stood ; the painter is seated 
 at his easel, while his man is grinding col- 
 ors in the background. One can feel the 
 atmosphere of meditation and perfect 
 composure that reigns there. The broad, 
 high window, latticed with small panes 
 ornamentally disposed, admits a soft and 
 quiet light, giving a sense of seclusion, and 
 the feeling of a calm and cool retreat 
 from the bustle and glare of the outside 
 world. Above the painter is a sheet dis- 
 tended against the ceiling, to prevent any 
 particles of dust falling therefrom and set- 
 tling upon his work, for the Dutch paint- 
 ers generally were very particular in this 
 respect. About him are a few objects 
 of use, such as a lay figure, a cast from 
 an antique head, etc. His was essentially 
 a workshop, and had not )'et assumed the 
 more dignified appellation of studio, nor, 
 like the majority of such, was it arranged 
 for display. This picture shows Ostade 
 at work in his own shop. 
 
 In the Louvre may be seen the jwrtrait 
 of the painter himself, with his wife and 
 family of .six children, and his brother 
 Isack and his wife — ten very remarka- 
 ble likenesses, all full-length figures, and 
 charmingly composed, forming a beauti- 
 ful picture upon a panel thirty-two inches 
 wide by twenty-eight inches high. It is 
 one of his largest works. I have heard 
 artists of distinction speak of this painting 
 as one of the rarest pieces in the Louvre. 
 The black draperies in it are admired as 
 being among the best instances of the 
 
THE FISH MARKET," BY ADRL\AN VAN OSTAUE. 
 
 LOUVRE, PARIS. 
 
ADRIAAN VAN OSTADE 
 
 97 
 
 rendering of this most difficult of colors. 
 M. Charles Blanc, in his " Lives of the 
 Dutch Painters," observes that, although 
 Ostade painted many scenes of tavern 
 life, his own way of life was essentially a 
 gentle and a decent one ; in which con- 
 clusion one must certainly agree on be- 
 holding this charming portrait-piece of 
 himself and family, and especially the 
 kind and honest face of the master, tender 
 and refined, reverent, and more grave 
 than gay. 
 
 The " Village Schoolmaster " of the 
 Salle Carrd is one of his most remarkable 
 interiors. It is a little picture thirteen by 
 nearly sixteen inches, and is valued at 
 $33,000. The affinity between some of 
 Ostade's interiors and those of Rembrandt 
 have not unnaturally led some writers on 
 Dutch art to suppose that Adriaan worked 
 among the great master's pupils ; but this 
 was not the case. He often produces in 
 his pictures those deep golden tones which 
 characterize the works of Rembrandt, 
 while in many of his interiors the lights 
 and shadows are as subtly managed. He 
 is an independent figure, however, and one 
 of the exemplars of the most flourishing 
 period of Dutch art. 
 
 The " Fish Market," which I have en- 
 graved, is also an admirable example, and 
 hangs, as does the portrait group, in the 
 long gallery of the Louvre. It measures 
 
 sixteen and one -quarter inches high by 
 thirteen and three-quarter inches wide. 
 It would be impossible to describe its 
 wondrous color — the warm, humid at- 
 mosphere and mellow golden light in 
 which it is steeped. It is an admirable 
 instance, also, of how well the master could 
 bind together a mass of .shadow and a 
 mass of light, and must have been the fruit 
 of much observation and reflection. In 
 respect to its light and shade, everything 
 is subservient to the man and fish, which 
 receive the strongest lights and shadows, 
 though they are not, like the background, 
 in the sunlight. This is contrary to natural 
 laws, especially out of doors ; but this was 
 the law of lighting peculiar to the school. 
 I once heard an art-critic object to the 
 " Fish Market "on the score of the subject. 
 He doubted whether any lady would care 
 to have it in her parlor, fish being at best 
 an unpleasant thing to have about. IJut 
 to object to such a picture on the ground 
 of its subject is by no means to show over- 
 flowing good sense, but rather a false and 
 vitiated taste ; certainly an affectation of 
 refinement, and a want of sympathy which 
 is the most unpardonable of sins in the 
 critic. The sentiment in Dutch painting 
 is always charming and never repulsive, 
 because it deals with light and shade and 
 color. This is in truth its never-varying 
 theme. 
 
 T. C. 
 
 13 
 
JAN STEEN 
 
Chapter XI 
 
 JAN STEEN 
 
 (i626?-i679) 
 
 IN studying Dutch pictures one is always given to wondering 
 whence these painters got their education. Who taught them 
 that intense truth of representation wliicli seems to belong to 
 the work of each one of the school ? What tradition handed down 
 told them how to draw and model ? What established formula 
 was the working plan of their solid painting ? The more one looks 
 at their work, the less it resembles anything ever done in art before 
 or since their time. There is not a breath of the academic about 
 it. A slated method for "doing" a figure, a robe, a composition; 
 a conventional palette for flesh color, blue sky, or general color- 
 harmony, are things apparently unknown. There is nothing stilted, 
 artificial, or hackneyed in Dutch technic. It is all unique, sponta- 
 neous, individual. How did this happen, how was it brought about? 
 Certainly not by following the teachings of any institute. It was 
 the absence of academic law that made individual effort possible, 
 even necessary. Instead of following a rule they followed the mo- 
 del ; instead of drawing from a dummy they drew from life ; instead 
 of painting unseen heroes in what has been called the " grand style," 
 they painted seen men and women in their own style. 
 
 Painters like Brouwer and Steen were, perhaps, among the firs t 
 to jaint an ent ire piftiirp_directly_j rom nature ..*? They practically 
 had no studios. They were tavern habitues, travelers from place 
 to place, who set up an easel where they could, and painted what- 
 ever they found that pleased them. In that way, working with 
 familiar objects before them — the whole scene before them — they 
 were able to give the characteristic force of the original with that 
 
102 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 spontaneity of touch and feeling usually seen in a first sketch. 
 Th^re_is_jio_probabilLtyL_that_Steen_ever took_4jeQple into a studio, 
 dressed dieni up, and posed them for a scene. The unconsckais- 
 air of his characters would in dicate that he saw them, and painte d 
 th em, w hen they were unconscious. He caught them in the very 
 act^ THusTTe^was enabled, by seeing and studying nature at first 
 hand, to give that sense of reality which is so foreign to classic art, 
 and so familiar in Dutch art ; to avoid that hectic flush and hot- 
 house complexion that belong to an art produced under the glass 
 roof of a studio. 
 
 Of course, Steen served his apprenticeship at painting like other 
 Dutchmen ; but what an apprenticeship in a Dutch workshop meant, 
 aside from grinding colors and preparing panels, we do not know. 
 It doubtless embraced a thorough schooling in materials, in draw- 
 ing, modeling, and handling. That it ever inculcated canons, or 
 taught methods of seeing or "doing" things, I am loath to be- 
 lieve. It is more likely that the pupil was taught to use his own 
 eyes, for most of the Dutch painters bear witness in their work to 
 individual points of view. Steen knew Ostade's practice as he did 
 Van Goyen's ; he was probably a pupil of both of them, and yet in 
 his pictures he was always Steen. He was a Dutchman painting 
 low life for a subject, and yet different from any other painter of low 
 life in Holland. One may wander through the long gallery of the 
 Louvre seeing Dutch pictures almost to satiety, and yet when, 
 at the far end of the line, he comes upon Steen's " Bad Company" 
 picture, his interest is stimulated anew. He finds something 
 absolutely novel, and he is willing to declare that never before in 
 art has such excellence of drawing, coloring, and handling been at- 
 tained. Steen never could have learned all that this picture tells 
 us in a Holland workshop. No one before him ever did things 
 in just such a way. It is his own view and his own method. The 
 picture stands for the individual genius of Jan .Steen. 
 
 The " Bad Company" shows the painter at his best, and among 
 all the Dutch pictures in that long gallery of the Louvre, I venture 
 to think it is surpassed by none in those qualities that belong to the 
 pure art of painting. The subject is quite in Steen's vein. It rep- 
 resents the interior of a bagnio, with a young gallant in drunken 
 sleep leaning half forward from his chair against a young woman, 
 who leers with a glass of wine in her hand, while a second woman 
 is rifling the pockets, and passing a watch and clothing to an old 
 
JAN STEEN 103 
 
 hag behind a table. At the back two musicians are playing and 
 grinning. The theme is certainly not elevating ; but one forgets 
 it directly he looks at the manner in which it is portrayed. The 
 character of the drawing is masterful, and that is not always the 
 case in Steen's pictures. He was frequently slipshod and careless 
 in hands and arms, which led Fromentin to observe that he some- 
 times painted after drinking as well as before. But here he is 
 very sure, very marked in the meaning of his lines, very emphatic 
 in giving bulk and solidity. The limpness of the young man, the 
 half-intoxicated sway of the young woman, the arm of the woman 
 at the left, the clothing, chairs, floor, cabinet, background, are all 
 superbly characterized. And Steen was just as clever in compo- 
 sition as Ostade, and more varied. He knit and wove objects 
 together in a wonderful woof of tones and colors, until they were 
 all of a piece, united, harmonious. This he has done in the " Bad 
 Company " picture. And what splendid color ! The richness of 
 the blues, yellows, and reds is relieved against a deeper, golden- 
 brown background — the tones all simple, transparent, mellow, ad- 
 mirable in their relationships. Add to this a painting as "fat" as 
 Ostade's, and as facile and sure almost as that of Hals, and we have 
 the make-up of as fine a piece of painting as Dutch art has ever 
 shown. 
 
 Steen was a workman above all else. He was no poet or preacher, 
 and most of the moral and satirical side of his art has been read 
 into it by kind commentators. He was a man who probably led a 
 pot-house life, and he painted the scenes about him, because they 
 were familiar and accessible scenes. If he thought to preach to, or 
 satirize the Dutch, he went about it in a very blundering way ; for 
 he made vice attractive by his beautiful workmanship. What he 
 reall)- thought to do was to paint a picture. Whether it was moral 
 or immoral concerned him little. The subject was something that 
 would lend itself to composition, light, and color, though he liked, 
 at times, to tell a story, as is shown by the picture which Mr. Cole 
 has engraved. That his themes were usually concerts, dances, and 
 carousals only proves that he was fond of action and life in figures, 
 and preferred the gay and animated scene to the tragic or the melo- 
 dramatic. 
 
 He painted a great many pictures, which fact has been used as 
 argument against the old-time tradition that he was a drunkard. 
 Whether he was or was not need not now be discussed. He is to 
 
I04 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 us only a fine painter, who sometimes fell below his own standard, 
 and painted carelessly and hastily. Perhaps many of his poorer 
 pictures, in which his drawing is slovenly, his color hot, and his 
 brush-work uncertain, were done with a bleared eye and an unsteady 
 hand, but there is no proof of this ; and inequality is just as appa- 
 rent in other painters about whom no sad-dog tales have been told. 
 Judged at his best — and every painter is entitled to be so judged 
 — Steen was an artist of remarkable skill in drawing, coloring, and 
 handling. No one of the "Little Dutchmen" was quite like him, 
 and no one of them can be ranked above him. His best pictures, 
 aside from the " Bad Company," are in the Ryks Museum at Am- 
 sterdam, though there are other good examples of him in England 
 and in Germany. 
 
 ' . NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 THERE is a portrait of Jan Steen, by 
 himself, in the Ryks Museum at 
 Amsterdam, which is impressive. It is a 
 strong, handsome, and refined face, three- 
 quarter view ; his eyes are turned toward 
 the beholder, who is confronted with a 
 highly intellectual, serious, and almost 
 stem countenance, the very reverse of the 
 drunken profligate and roistering idler he 
 is represented to have been by early chron- 
 iclers. Happily, all writers are now agreed 
 in denouncing the great injustice done him 
 by his former biographers. A glance, 
 however, at this sober visage, with its eye- 
 brows partly knit, as if in grave rebuke 
 of his falsifiers, is all the proof one needs 
 in vindication of his character, even if we 
 were not aware that he painted upward 
 of five hundred pictures, most of which 
 are of rare merit, during the short thirty- 
 odd years of his working life. That so in- 
 cessant and assiduous a toiler could yet 
 find time to mingle with the jovial and 
 the bibulous is an evidence of the sound- 
 ness of his heart, rather than of any moral 
 defect. 
 
 Steen was born at Leydenin 1626, nine- 
 teen years after his kinsman Rembrandt, 
 and, displaying precocious talent for draw- 
 
 ing, was early placed under one Nicolaus 
 Kniipfer, a German painter at Utrecht. 
 After this he is supposed to have gone to 
 Haarlem, and to have entered the studio 
 of Adriaan van Ostade. Steen's last mas- 
 ter was Van Goyen, of The Hague, whose 
 daughter, Margaretha, he married there 
 in 1649; he had been enrolled in the 
 Painters' Guild at Leyden in the previous 
 year. From this period till 1672, when 
 many of his best works were painted, he 
 divided his time between Harlem, Ley- 
 den, and The Hague. One of his late 
 biographers, M. Van der Willigen, has 
 found at Haarlem the records of the birth 
 and early burial there of an infant daugh- 
 ter in 1662, and of the burial of his wife 
 there in i66g, and another record to the 
 effect that poor Steen had some of his pic- 
 tures seized and sold by an apothecary in 
 payment of a debt of" 10 florins, 5 sous, 
 and 8 deniers," contracted for medicine 
 during his wife's illness. The same writer 
 tells us that Steen agreed to give, in 
 payment of one year's rent (1666-1667) 
 of twenty-nine florins, three portraits, 
 " painted as well as he was able," from 
 which we may assume that he did not get 
 very large sums for his work. Three por- 
 
'THE FEAST OF ST. NICHOLAS," BV JAN STEEN. 
 
 RVKS MUSEUM, AMSTERDAM. 
 
JAN STEEN 
 
 105 
 
 traits for twenty-nine florins would be at 
 the rate of four dollars apiece; yet, since 
 he paid only twelve dollars a year for 
 rent, we conclude that the purchasing 
 power of money in those days was far 
 gi-eater than it is now. Many an artist 
 of good standing nowadays would be wil- 
 ling to make a like exchange of three 
 portraits for a year's rent. 
 
 In 1672 we find Steen back again in 
 Leyden, where, having obtained posses- 
 sion of some property left him by his de- 
 ceased father, who it is supposed was a 
 brewer, he applied for and obtained per- 
 mission to open a tavern at the neighbor- 
 ing village of Langebrug. A year following 
 this he married for the second time, and 
 in 1679 he died, and was buried in the 
 parish church of St. Peter at Leyden. 
 
 The picture of the " Feast of St. Nich- 
 olas " is one of Jan Steen's best and 
 happiest productions. It measures thirty- 
 three and one half inches high by twenty- 
 seven inches wide, and is said to represent 
 the family of the painter. His father and 
 mother are in the background; his wife, 
 in the foreground, extends her arms to 
 the hapijy child. The festival of St. Nich- 
 olas is observed in Holland, not on the 
 25th of December, but on the 6th, on 
 the eve of which holy day the children 
 hang up their shoes and stockings, and if 
 they have been good and attentive to their 
 studies, Santa Claus graciously fills them 
 with dainties, while he has as certainly a 
 rod in pickle for the idle and unruly. How 
 much of joy and happiness is expressed 
 in so httle space, and how perfect is the 
 arrangement. The general tone of the 
 coloring, as of all Steen's works, might be 
 characterized as brown, of a golden hue, 
 but neutral ; nothing could be more sub- 
 tle, mellow, or refined. There is a rich 
 note of color in the red back of the chair, 
 while the drapery of the background is of 
 a soft, dull, reddish hue, which is repeated 
 in a higher key in the sleeves of the girl. 
 The wall and casements of the windows 
 are of soft, dull brownish tints, and the 
 
 dress of the crying boy is of a more de- 
 cided tone of the same, while that of the 
 old grandmother is of so uncertain a shade 
 of brown as to be equivocal against the 
 reddish curtains. The highest note of this 
 color is in the loaf of bread and the cakes. 
 The squares of the marble floor are of 
 golden and brownish tones. The velvet 
 sack of the woman extending her arms 
 coaxingly toward the child is of a rich 
 neutral shade of green, and this tone is 
 delicately repeated in the dress of the old 
 man. The skirt of the woman is gray, of 
 a bluish or purplish cast, and this is re- 
 peated in a browner key in the dress of 
 the laughing boy behind her. The dress 
 of the happy child is of a soft shade of 
 ocher, varied with golden and pearly tints. 
 The pail is of a dull leaden hue, and the 
 white draperies are warm and mellow. 
 The colors are so neutral, tender, and har- 
 monious in their repetitions and minglings, 
 that they quite defy any attempt at de- 
 scription. The delicacy of the values, and 
 the atmosphere of warmth and radiance 
 which suffuses all, wrap the whole in a 
 halo of ideahty. This, combined with that 
 marvelous sensitiveness for values, — bor- 
 rowed from nature, it is true, yet wrought 
 from inner feeling, — gives to the work of 
 the Dutch painters that imaginative qual- 
 ity, that " grace and glimmer of romance," 
 without which their realism would be but 
 materialistic, and their probity but the 
 record of dry facts. 
 
 Jan Steen is particularly at home with 
 children, and has painted a considerable 
 number of subjects illustrative of the joys 
 of childhood ; and no one surely could 
 paint them with a kinder or more loving 
 touch, evidence enough that he possessed 
 a tender heart and much good nature. 
 
 On the other hand, among his master- 
 pieces are many scenes of tavern life, of 
 dissipation and debauchery, in which he 
 portrays the very lowest depths of deprav- 
 ity. In such scenes, and others of the 
 quaint humors and drolleries of life, he 
 has been compared to Hogarth as a satir- 
 
io6 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 ist of the follies and vices of his time. 
 However this may be, there is certainly 
 no affectation of moralizing about him. 
 He forgets everything in the desire to 
 show what is. He enters into his tavern 
 scenes with positive delight, painting them, 
 apparently, for their own sake, rather than 
 from any moral end in view. But it is not 
 necessary to make conclusions about these 
 things. 
 
 He shows himself an ingenious carica- 
 turist, irresistibly comic and facetious, in 
 such scenes as the " Charlatan " of the 
 
 Ryks Museum, the " Oyster Feast," and 
 the " Dentist " of The Hague, etc. ; and 
 displays a subtle sense of humor in his 
 many " Doctor's Visits." At the Louvre 
 is one of his latest works, dated 1674, 
 " A Feast at an Inn," painted after he had 
 opened his tavern, and no doubt repre- 
 senting the actual interior of the place ; 
 it is valued at 30,000 francs. Pictures 
 such as these have rightly claimed for 
 Jan Steen high fame among the greatest 
 Dutch painters of familiar life. 
 
 T. C. 
 
PIETER DE HOOCH 
 
Chapter XII 
 
 PIETER DE HOOCH 
 
 (1630-1677?) 
 
 FROM his pictures, one might say that Pieter de Hooc h had 
 only a slight interest in the intellectual, moral, or anecdotal 
 life of humanity. , He used men and wom en in his pictures 
 of interiors about a s he used_c hairs, tables, floors, and windows. 
 j5oplejw^reJxLj]Im_Ql4£CJs_showing line,jiiaas,jand_color. He never 
 bothered him sel£ to any exte jiLwith their Ijyfis.or adventureSr-tJieir 
 _thougjits_ or their emotion s. He ^ared_foiLtheir axtemal appeat- 
 ance — ::j heir value as fa cto rs in co n^positiofl . 
 
 Yet he was no more lackin"- in sentiment and feelino- because 
 he was not directly interested in humanity as a subject, than Hob- 
 bema or Ruisdael, who painted landscapes. De Hooch had plenty 
 of sentiment, but it all went out to the beauty of sunlight and color. 
 He thought light more beautiful than man, and he seldom painted 
 a picture that he did not throw his whole strength upon it. Was 
 this a material aim? If so, then Corot must have been a material- 
 ist, for he sp ent his who l e life painting that one feature of l ight. A 
 painter who tells the beauty of so predominant an element as light, 
 be it in the eastern sky at dawn or on a kitchen floor at noon, is 
 telling a universal truth than which there is none greater. 
 
 Whence De Hooch got his love for light is not known. His 
 life is a fog-bank of uncertainty, and his artistic education is some- 
 thing at which one can only guess. Doubtless he took up with the 
 method of Rembrandt at second-hand through some one like Fabri- 
 tius. There is the same love for shadow masses illumined by bursts 
 of light in De Hooch as in Rembrandt ; but the former is more 
 uniform in distribution and truer in tone than the latter. Moreover, 
 
 109 
 
no OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 Rem brandt appli edjiisjjgjumainly to the illuminat ion of the huiiian 
 face ; it was a mea ns to an end. De Hooch used it to disclose an 
 inte rJQiLi^ i t was a n^en d in itseE Aside from the general principle 
 of using light as foil to shadow, there was little resemblance be- 
 tween the two men. Their use of color was quite different. De 
 Hooch seldom sacrificed it to chiaroscuro. Occasionally, in a red coat 
 sleeve or a yellow braid, the color was out of tone because he had 
 not hit upon the exact value ; but this was error rather than design. 
 Usually he kept it in perfect relationship, giving the true value of 
 every tone, no matter what the illumination of it. Some of his 
 gradations of light, as in the " Interior of a Dutch House " in the 
 Louvre (a different picture from the one Mr. Cole has described), 
 are marvelous in their truth. The tile flooring, in the picture in- 
 stanced, is worthy of study for its perfect tone and its delicate tran- 
 sition from dark to light. The picture is not so varied in color as 
 he usually painted, but in truth of light it is one of his very best. 
 De Hooch was fond of bright color — its repetition was a feature of 
 his composition — and yet he never allowed its brightness to become 
 thinness, harshness, or sharpness. He was more lustrous than the 
 Scottish Wilkie, yet not so high-keyed; richer than the French 
 Watteau, and yet not so sparkling. His tones (probably obtained 
 by many thin glazes) have a quality deep as jewels and mellow as 
 cathedral bells. Indeed, one might almost believe that De Hooch 
 and Ver Meer of Delft got their palettes from another source than 
 the Holland school, were not some brilliant pictures by Cuyp and 
 Steen kept in mind. It is Dutch color in them all. With De 
 Hooch it seems intensified, perhaps, by the importance given it. 
 
 jDe^ Hooch's drawing of the fi gu re w a s not th a t nf H als, or 
 
 ^tpfMTj_ or Rembran dt. H e was frequen tly wa nting in corre .£L,.de- 
 
 tails ; but he was seldom wanting in truth of mass, and that was 
 
 really what he sought to gain. JHlis drawin g of architectur e, doors, 
 windo ws, tables, was much better, and was equally effective in 
 giving solidity and substantial weight. Jn__comj x)sition he used the 
 round, or flowing li ne s of figures to ofis e^the^trajglrt lines_of arrhi- 
 tectujre ; and occasionally he was bewildering with his short stick- 
 Tike lines, as in the celebrated " Dutch Courtyard " in the National 
 Gallery, for instance. He had considerable skill in linear composi- 
 tion ; but Jhis main reliance was upon an .Trnng '^mpn t by ligh t- and 
 colon He i llum ined a rather dark interiorJbyi)reaksj)f Jiglvt coming 
 sometimes sharply from a single window but more often from sev- 
 
THE BUTTKKV,"' liV TIETKR DE IIOUCH. 
 
 KYKS MUSEf.M, AMSTERDAM. 
 
PIETER DE HOOCH I 1 1 
 
 ^al door s or win dows. Across this web of illumination, made by 
 bright light piercing transparent shadow, he wove a pattern of deep 
 rich colors gained from objects placed here and there purposely for 
 their value in light and color. For repeated notes of color, and for 
 effects of aerial perspective, he often arranged his figures on differ- 
 ent planes. A group was frequently put in the foreground beside 
 a screen or mantel, while at the back, or in an adjoining room, an- 
 other group would be placed under a different light. This was a 
 common device of the Netherlands genre-painters. Ostade used it 
 very often, and Teniers, the Fleming, placed great stress upon it; 
 but De Hooch made it the most effective in giving the appearance 
 of atmosphere. As a brushman he was not remarkable by compari- 
 son with his contemporaries. He never had the facility of Hals, or 
 the unctuous quality of Ostade ; howbeit, he was a better handler 
 than many pictures now catalogued under his name, in public and 
 private galleries, would indicate. He had his imitators, and long 
 after his obscure death their pictures filled the demand that had 
 arisen for his works. 
 
 De Hooch must have been a man of lofty mind, even though he 
 was not directly interested in the human face. For, in his pictures, 
 he is so serene in mood , so very simple and unostentati ous, so 
 rationaj lv" happy in the enjoyment of sunshin y, children, flowers, 
 rich_m arbles. and bright rob es. There is never a tinge of low 
 taste about him. Even in subject, though he painted the kitchen 
 and the back yard quite as often as the drawing-room, he is never 
 other than refined. Humble life pleased him quite as much as 
 high life ; and he saw beauty in the commonplace with its com- 
 monplaceness unrelieved by dramatic incident or pathetic story. 
 Material he may be called, because he was not inventive or imag- 
 inative in a classical sense ; but certainly no one ever saw or 
 painted the beauty that lies in pure materials better than he did. 
 The world failed to appreciate him in his lifetime, and his was the 
 fate of many another genius of the paint-brush. At the present 
 time his name is greatly lauded, and the few pictures by him now 
 in existence are highly prized. 
 
112 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 MUCH of the meager information 
 concerning Pieter de Hooch is 
 doubtfuh He appears to have been bom 
 either at Utrecht or Ouderschie, a suburb 
 of Rotterdam, about the year 1630. In 
 1655 '^'^ became a member of the Paint- 
 ers' Guild at Delft, but left that city in 
 1657 for either Haarlem or Amsterdam, 
 and it is conjectured that he must have 
 died soon after 1677, as this date is the 
 latest on his pictures. The greater part 
 of the pictures (about a hundred) known 
 to be by his hand are in private English 
 collections. 
 
 De Hooch is one of the most charming 
 of the Dutch masters. He dehghts in 
 giving us glimpses of the cheerful and 
 peaceful aspect of the domestic life of the 
 time. One might linger hours before his 
 simple scenes with the greatest delight 
 without tiring of them, and wonder what 
 it is that gives so mysterious a charm to 
 his works. Much of the secret of his fas- 
 cination is due to his wonderful feehng 
 for light and shade, and his refined sensi- 
 tiveness for values, though much more, 
 no doubt, to the sweet contentment and 
 love of home that must have characterized 
 a gentle and refined nature. A man must 
 paint what he is. De Hooch is a poet of 
 rare and delicate fiber. No other master 
 can compare with him in the representa- 
 tion of the poetry of light, and in that mar- 
 velous brilliancy and clearness with which 
 he calls it forth in various distances till 
 the background is reached, which is gen- 
 erally illumined by a fresh beam. 
 
 " The Buttery," which I have engraved, 
 is in the Ryks Museum at Amsterdam, 
 and ranks among the finest examjjles of 
 De Hooch, and nothing, surely, could be 
 more delightful. The action of the ser- 
 vant as she presents the jug to the child to 
 sip is expressive of gentleness and endear- 
 ment ; and what could be more charming 
 than the glimpse of the inside room, with 
 its picture, and the casement, and the 
 cushioned chair, and the court beyond in 
 sunlight? How bright and sunny and 
 joyful all this is! It is full of the senti- 
 ment of home. De Hooch's pictures 
 are never very large; this one measures 
 twenty-five and three quarter inches high 
 by twenty-three and one Jialf mches wide. 
 There are other wonderful works by him in 
 the Ryks Museum. The Louvre also pos- 
 sesses a fine gem by this master known as 
 " A Dutch Interior," representing a richly 
 decorated room, in which, by the side of 
 a sculptured fireplace, a group is engaged 
 at cards. The rich chamber is flooded 
 with mellow light, which is reflected from 
 the golden stamped leather of the walls, 
 and a charming comfort and lovely mys- 
 tery pervade. Yet, full as it seems of light, 
 much is kept out by the heavy curtains 
 beyond the card-players, near which a 
 loving couple snatch a stolen opportunity 
 for communing. A page enters noiselessly 
 from another room with his salver, glass, 
 and flask of wine. There is another pic- 
 ture of the same title but a ditterent sub- 
 ject in the Louvre. 
 
 T. C. 
 
JAN VER MEER OF DELFT 
 
Chapter XIII 
 
 JAN VER MEER OF DELFT 
 
 (1632-1675) 
 
 DUTCH tradition has it that Jan ver Meer, sometimes called 
 I Van der Meer of Delft, was a pupil of Fabritius, and, at 
 one time, under the influence of Rembrandt. The same 
 tradition is handed down to us about his contemporary Pieter de 
 Hooch. Undoubtedly there is something in the common style of 
 these men that substantiates, in measure, such a tale. There is an 
 affinity between them which would naturally lead one to infer that 
 their teachincrs were the same, thouo-h whether the teacher was 
 Fabritius or not can only be conjectured. 
 
 In subject both jDe Hooch_and_Ver Meer occasionally painted 
 townscapes ; but they were chiefly devoted to the interior, with li ght^ 
 comintj in at the windows and illuminatino: a few fieures. It was a 
 subject common to the Dutch genre -painters ; and yet De Hooch 
 and Ver Meer handled it quite differently from the others. They 
 were more elevated in feeling, more select in types, architecture, 
 surroundings, morg^ brilliant in color, more transparent in ligh t. 
 But Ver Meer was not so extensive or elaborate in composition as 
 De Hooch, and possibly could not handle a complicated scene so 
 well. He seldom painted a large interior with groups. A single 
 figure in a corner of a room, with a window and sunlight, was his 
 usual theme. The arrangement was simpler, but the mental point 
 of view was not essentially different from that of De Hooch. His 
 con ce rn was for the material _ajid^lhp pirt-nresqu£. mor e than for jtke 
 psy cholo gical ^0!l_ the intellectual ; and his conception was usually 
 summed up in sunshine, shadow, and color. He saw beautiful 
 harmonies in such things, and he told of them with great vivacity 
 and spirit. 
 
Il6 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 In the disposition and adjustment of objects in liis pictures he 
 made some use of hne, and usually opposed straight lines to curved 
 ones, as was the practice of De Hooch and others. Deep shadow 
 as a means of composition he did not frequently use. He laid a 
 veil of light and shadow like his contemporaries ; but it was thinner, 
 less apparent to the eye, than with, say, Ostade or Metsu. His 
 light was clear, and seemed to have the intensity of real sunlight ; 
 and, as a result, his color was bright, with a gay surface quality 
 about it. De Hooch was fond of golden sunlight, and warm, rich 
 notes of red and yellow ; Ver Meer's tones, if not opposed, were 
 different. He was fond of all colors, reds and Naples yellow in- 
 cluded, and he used them knowingly ; but he, at first, preferred a 
 silvery tone, and employed that most unmanageable of all cool colors, 
 blue. A number of his j^ictures, indeed, have something like a blue 
 envcloppe about them — as, for example, the admirable little picture 
 by him in the Metropolitan Museum, New York. We know that 
 Gainsborough, as opposed to Reynolds, was fond of this hue, but 
 he used it (in his " Blue Boy " and elsewhere) purely for the sake 
 of blue as a color. In Ver Meer's pictures one is inclined to think 
 it was used for another purpose. It heightened the effect of light. 
 Ver Meer evidently had an inkling of what the modern impression- 
 ists have discovered, namely, that there is less luminosity in white 
 than in blue. White is dead, flat, opaque; while blue, thinly laid, 
 is transparent, vibrant, scintillating. Claude Monet has abundantly 
 demonstrated this in his landscapes, but Ver Meer first hinted at it 
 in his interiors. There was certainly no painter of the time, not 
 even Rembrandt with his sharp contrasts, who gained greater 
 height of light than Ver Meer; and something of it was due to his 
 use of blue. 
 
 There is nothing peculiar or personal about either his drawing 
 or his modeling. His line is clear, concise, well-understood, at 
 times beautiful in its simplicity, and his modeling has solidity, 
 strength, and character ; but this may be as truly said of any trained 
 painter of the school. In brush-work he was <\( 'r\i\t^c\\y i"nr1i\-iMiinl ; 
 and yet, if the connection could be traced, he might be thought in 
 this respect a follower of Hals, wide apart as their handlings seem 
 at first blush. He was Hals in little. The same staccato quality, 
 the same quick touch, the same flat modeling, appear in the only 
 life-sized work by Ver Meer now in existence — a somewhat re- 
 painted group of figures at Dresden. In the small panels he usually 
 
rORTRAIT OF A LADV," BV JAN VER MEER OF DELFT. 
 
 NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. 
 
JAN VER MEER OF UELFT II7 
 
 painted, this handling is materially modified by the regard for size, 
 and yet a study of the picture at the Metropolitan Museum will dis- 
 close the crisp stroke so characteristic of Hals. This kind of brush- 
 work is peculiar only to the pictures of his first period. Later on 
 he seems to have changed his manner (and something of his blue 
 tone) in accordance with fashionable dictation, and painted a smooth 
 surface with pale, varied colors, as in the little " Lace Maker " of 
 the Louvre, and in the newly acquired National Gallery picture 
 which Mr. Cole has engraved. 
 
 There are very few of Ver Meer's pictures left to us, and some 
 of them are not altogether good; but at his best he is a very charm- 
 ing painter, winning as the French Chardin, and just as frank in 
 spirit. He is a poet, but, again, like almost all of the Dutchmen, 
 he is so only in the poetry of materials, such as light, color, atmo- 
 sphere, and values. It is difficult to make people believe that there 
 can be any fine sentiment about sunlight and color, much less about 
 the composition and atmospheric setting of objects in a room. Yet, 
 in the illustration, the pose of the figure at the spinet, the relation 
 of the head to the picture- frame, the exact value of the Cupid in 
 flesh color, the charmingly drawn little landscape and frame at the 
 left, the white light of the window, the very angles of the room, and 
 floor, and chairs, must have been emotionally felt by the painter 
 when he was painting them. Brush in hand, he must have been 
 stirred by their beauty, in precisely the same way that Sir Walter 
 Scott, pen in hand, was rnoved by the contemplation of sweet Teviot 
 with its silver tide and willowed shores. Feeling — the mood of 
 mind that breeds images, and transforms reality into a something 
 beautiful — is the essence of both picture and poem. Mere skill of 
 brush and skill of pen are unable mechanically to effect such trans- 
 formations. Beautiful thinking must accompany beautiful work- 
 manship. When they go hand in hand the total result is poetry — 
 and poetry is art, and art poetry, whether done with the pen or the 
 brush. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 THE little we know respecting this who,undertheassumednameofW.Biirger, 
 
 extraordinary artist, long since neg- wrote an interesting work on the museums 
 
 lected by historians, but now restored to of Holland. Ver Meer was born at Delft 
 
 the honor he deserves, we owe to the re- in 1632, and is believed to have been a 
 
 searches of a French critic— M. Thore— pupil of Karel Fabritius (one of the nu- 
 
ii8 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 mcrous progeny of Rembrandt). Fabri- 
 tius dying early, Ver Meer, it is said, pro- 
 ceeded to Amsterdam to visit the studio 
 of Rembrandt. He had been elected as 
 a master painter in his native city before 
 his reputed sojourn at Amsterdam ; and 
 in 1 67 1 his name again appears among 
 the members of the Painters' Guild for 
 that year. His death took ])lace about 
 1675. ^^ '■'' related of him that he was 
 killed by the fall of his house at the very 
 time when Simon Decker, vestryman of 
 the church of Delft, was sitting to him for 
 his portrait — master and sitter, together 
 with other persons, being victims of the 
 accident. 
 
 Of the few works known to e.xist by Ver 
 Meer — scarcely a score in all — but one 
 example bears a date ; and this is a life- 
 size work. It is dated 1656, and is to 
 be seen in the Dresden Gallery. It is a 
 canvas of four half-length figures repre- 
 senting a scene at a tavern, and is inter- 
 esting chiefly as testifying to ease and 
 thoroughness in art. 
 
 It is in Ver Meer's small works that he 
 appears as an independent master, and 
 we become acquainted with an artist whose 
 genius is akin to that of De Hooch — a 
 master of robust and refined intellect. I 
 shall never forget the " Milkmaid " of the 
 Six collection at Amsterdam ; quite extra- 
 ordinary in its naturalness, truth, breadth, 
 and reality, without excess, and notable 
 for its brilliancy of tone, harmony, and 
 solidity of touch. In the same collection 
 is also an attractive little piece by Ver 
 Meer representing a row of brick build- 
 ings, with people, in sunlight, while 
 through an open doorway is seen a court- 
 yard where some women are washing, 
 'i'his has all the fascinating qualities of a 
 Pieter de Hooch, with possibly a greater 
 
 brightness and enamel of tone. There are 
 no more charming productions of his than 
 such homely scenes as this. 
 
 One of the latest acquisitions of the 
 National Gallery of London is a very fine 
 Ver Meer, which is the subject of the en- 
 graving, namely, " Portrait of a Lady," 
 standing at a spinet. It is a small work: 
 measuring about eleven by fifteen inches, 
 and cost the National Gallery ^^^lyoo. 
 It possesses a very charming and realistic 
 effect of light coming in through the win- 
 dow. The varied adjustment of the 
 spaces in the arrangement of the whole 
 is a study in itself. 
 
 In coloring it is softer and more refined 
 than many of Ver Meer's works that I 
 have seen. His partiality for a lemon- 
 yellow and a very deep blue, one would 
 not suspect from this example of his work. 
 The wall, suffused by the warm radiance 
 from without, is a neutral gray of great 
 (lehcacy of tone, and the gold frame of the 
 litde picture sparkles upon this background 
 with pleasing piquancy and realism. The 
 black frame surrounding the picture of 
 the Cupid is nearly the strongest note of 
 color in the whole. I have heard an ar- 
 tist of distinction as a colorist remark that 
 only a consummate master would ilare to 
 do this : he referred to the balancing of 
 the masses. The spinet is brown, antl the 
 dress of the lady is a warm, pearly gray, 
 the part about her shoulders and breast 
 being of a rich blue, while the seat of the 
 chair is of the same shade. The Cupid 
 is holding in his uplifted hand a clock, 
 the pendulum beingjust visible asit swings 
 from behind his arm. There is, perhaps, 
 some relation here between Love and the 
 lady in the sentiment pervading the whole 
 — a beautiful lady standing at her spinet, 
 and Love holding the time. 
 
 T. C. 
 
JACOB VAN RUISDAEL 
 
A 
 
 Chapter XIV 
 
 JACOB VAN RUISDAEL 
 
 (1628?- 1682) 
 
 FTER studying the landscapes by Ruisdael — the wooded 
 mountauis, the dense forests, the foaming waterfalls — one 
 is quite ready to believe that this painter was no su ch stick - 
 ler for the local tr uths of Holland as his contemporaries among the 
 g enre p aipiers. The high sky-line, the mountain pass, the blue 
 air, the somber color, are these characteristics of the land of dikes 
 and dunes ? Was Ruisdael painting a realistic portrait of the land 
 in which he lived, or was he painting a semi-ideal portrait, got 
 originally from tradition and modified to suit the Dutch taste ? 
 
 It is difficult to trace home to its source this landscape of Ruis- 
 dael. He painted two kinds of compositions. One kind was based 
 on the facts of nature as he saw them in the environs of Haarlem 
 and elsewhere. This landscape was actual, realistic, Dutch, so far 
 as its drawing and arrangement were concerned ; but in sky, color, 
 light, it was like his more familiar waterfall and mountain land- 
 scape — the landscape with which the name of Ruisdael is usually 
 associated. The model of this latter kind is not to be found in 
 Holland. It has been suggested that it resembles the German and 
 Swiss country, and the conclusion has been hastily reached that 
 Ruisdael had traveled there and painted his views at first hand. 
 Then, again, it has been said that it was the Norwegian country of 
 Everdingen, a country that this contemporary and influencer of 
 Ruisdael had discovered. What Everdingen knew about Norway 
 is told us by a gossip's tale. It is related that "once upon a time" 
 he was shipwrecked upon the coast of Norway, and that during a 
 forced stay there he made sketches of the country, brought them 
 
122 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH iMASTERS 
 
 home with huii, and it was from these sketches, borrowed from 
 Everdingen, that Ruisdael made up his so-called Norwegian land- 
 scapes. There is no probability about any of these reports. The 
 landscape in question bears a closer resemblance to something seen 
 in art than anything seen in the mountains of Norway ; and a so- 
 briquet applied to Everdingen will suggest its possible origin. He 
 was called "the Salvator Rosa of the North." Why? Doubtless 
 because his work resembled that of the Salvator Rosa of the South. 
 
 We know that the Dutch and the Flemings in the sixteenth 
 and seventeenth centuries were well acquainted with Italian art. 
 They were especially conversant with the art of the Roman and 
 Neapolitan schools, and Rembrandt's possible indebtedness to Cara- 
 vaggio for his chiaroscuro has already been hinted at. That Sal- 
 vator's art was well known in Holland, there can be little doubt. 
 Everdingen shows a knowledge of it. His landscapes are of the 
 same dark, stormy nature as Salvator's. The waterfall, the twisted 
 branch, the lowering sky, the mountains with m edieval ca stles on 
 their heights, even the spottiness of light upon broken branches 
 and tree-trunks, were features common to both painters. Ever- 
 dingen modified the conception in accordance with his Dutch point 
 of view, and Ruisdael's landscape is still further removed from Sal- 
 vator's ; yet tempered as is this Ruisdael landscape with his own 
 sentiment and local touches here and there, it still points back in 
 its classic composition and semi- ideal character to the landscape 
 of the South. 
 
 There is no record that Ruisdael ever went to Italy. It was not 
 necessary that he should have gone there to study classic landscape, 
 any more than it was necessary that Claude should have gone to 
 Greece in order to paint his Arcadian groves. He probably knew 
 about Italian art from samples of it in Holland, and from his con- 
 temporaries who were reproducing it. Berchem was the friend who 
 advised Ruisdael to take up landscape painting ; and what was Ber- 
 chem's landscape but that of Italy done over in a northern man- 
 ner ? Undoubtedly, Ruisdael was a student of natural appearances. 
 Many details in his pictures, aside from his Haarlem views, indicate 
 this. But, in the main, his composition was based uj^on Italian art, 
 and his waterfall and mountain landscape was neither Norwegian 
 nor Dutch, but a composite invention — a mixture of northern and 
 southern conceptions. 
 
 But all this cencerns us only as it suggests the reason why this 
 
JACOB VAN RUISDAEL I23 
 
 painter was not so essentially Dutch as some others of the school. 
 The main question is : Was Ruisdael's landscape good art ? To 
 that there can be only an affirmative answer. It had not the naive 
 originality of Paul Potter's landscape ; neither had it Potter's dis- 
 jointed hardness. It was not so near the truth of Holland as Hob- 
 bema's work ; but it had not Hobbema's uncertain flicker and flash. 
 Ruis dael was not b ound downjgjlie mere truth of fact before hini. 
 There jwag_g^goor| deal nf the pirt ure-mak er aboutiilm. He calcu- 
 lated an effect as decorative art, and in his net result there was a 
 shade of conventionality. Nevertheless, his landscape was remark- 
 able for its soundness of construction, its perfect poise, its thorough 
 completion, its admirable ensemble. He composed well, if a little 
 formally. His adjustment of objects was quite classic ; his drawing 
 of sky and mountain lines, his repetition of objects for perspective, 
 his angle-lines of trees or rivers or gorges, were all very effective. 
 Sky and clouds he knew and drew correctly as the arched ceiling 
 of his picture (not a frequent virtue in landscape art) ; and with lin- 
 ear perspective he was more than successful. The latter was a 
 feature of Claude and Salvator, and one of the first to be imitated 
 by the Dutch. Atmospheric perspective was a thing he knew 
 less about, and at times he resorted to something like the scumble 
 to obtain it. In light he seemed to shun a full illumination. Most 
 of his landscapes appear under broken and diffiised lights, with a 
 clouded sky and a gray half-tone. This has been set down to Ruis- 
 dael's credit as a very fetching local truth, and we are continually 
 referred to it as the type of Holland light. Perhaps the climate of 
 Holland has changed, but certainly at the present time, during the 
 summer months — the months that Ruisdael represents in his pic- 
 tures — Holland is almost as bright and cloudless as Beleium or 
 France. It is doubtfu l if Ruisdael ever intended his light to repre- 
 sent aJocaTtruth~ IFwas an a rtjruth. HejjeeHed^t to carnTout 
 Jhe grav e, deep sentiment of his landscape, andT ie used it arbitra - 
 rily. This is equal ly true of his coloring . He indulged in a meager 
 palette of grays, browns, and greens, not because it told the color 
 of Holland in the summer season, for it does not. Holland is full of 
 brilliant hues. Van der Heyden, Cuyp, and others, not to mention 
 present-day painters, show them to us continually. __EiiisdaeLkjiew 
 tjiatJulT b right tones were about him on every hand, bu jjie^chose 
 to discard them . Jlie ^had a sentiment about landscape that requ ired 
 mournful grays and sad greens for its proper expression, and he 
 
124 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 used them arbitrarily, as he did Hght. Even when he was painting 
 local scenes about Haarlem and elsewhere, he did not change his 
 scheme of color and light. It was the sum of his vision, just as 
 pale light and silvery grays were the sum of Corot's vision. The 
 actual truth was discarded by both men for a truth of sentiment. 
 
 Ruisdael's sentiment was worthy of the sacrifice, though the 
 recurrent key of color and light gives evidence of the painter's limi- 
 tations. He seems to have had only one view, and that a rather 
 gloomy one. The bright, the gay, the sparkling, the animated, 
 did not appeal to him. His life may have been radiant enough, 
 though report says differently, but in art he always leaned toward 
 the sad, the melancholy, the lonely, the mysterious. His mind was 
 grave, sober to the point of despair, yet calm, sustained, full of re- 
 pose. The mountain solitude, the silence of the deep woods, the 
 hush of the ravine were broken only by the dull roar of water fall- 
 ing over rocks. He transported humanity to the heart of the hills 
 that it might be still and reflect ; and he allowed no gay color, sun- 
 light, or blue sky to distract the attention. Everything was pitched 
 in a key of grays, greens, and browns, as though nature herself 
 were sadly pondering upon her own fair garmenting as only beauty 
 for ashes. 
 
 This mood which Ruisdael portrays for us has not the radiant 
 charm of Corot. It is a mystic, somber sentiment that holds us by 
 its pervasiveness. Everything is imbued with it, everything is 
 tinged and hued by it. It is nature in a fit of melancholy. Nothing 
 shines out to brighten the general effect. The one mournful senti- 
 ment spreads like a veil of sadness from sky to foreground. As a 
 result his landscape is not enlivening, but it is nevertheless pro- 
 foundly impressive. Artistically, it is told with a singleness of aim 
 and a unity of means significant of power. There is no one feature 
 that protrudes. The whole scene sets solidly in its place, and up 
 and down and across the canvas is one sustained effort. In that 
 respect it cannot be admired too much ; for unity in landscape is a 
 feature more difificult to produce than any other. Taken piece by 
 piece and examined for its separate qualities, his landscape shows 
 some want of invention and skill. He draws sharply and minutely, 
 he models thinly, he composes somewhat pompously. His light is 
 wanting in scale, and his color is wanting in register. In handling 
 he has none of the vivacity of Steen, none of the facility of Hals, 
 none of the force of Rembrandt. Brilliancy of touch he does not 
 
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JACOB VAN RUISDAEL 1 25 
 
 understand, or understanding it, he chooses to subordinate it to the 
 general effect. The surface is flat and thin in the rolling clouds, in 
 the sharply defined foliage, in the brown earth. For a seventeenth- 
 century painter, in a school remarkable for its masterful workmen, 
 Ruisdael does not cut a great figure. He is acceptable, even satis- 
 factory ; but never distinguished. 
 
 And, after all, skill of the brush did not vitally concern him. 
 What he sought to portray w as a sen timent about landscape -catl^er 
 than a likeness of nature hers elf T h e sen tim ent was p oeiicand 
 what mattered^ Tt iFTie used prose to tell it. The ultimate result 
 was good, and it is upon that ultimate result that appreciation of 
 Ruisdael's landscape must be based. In the part, it is not interest- 
 ing ; in the whole, it is complete, well-rounded, designed with a 
 single purpose in view, and revealing that purpose exceptionally 
 well. 
 
 Some of Ruisdael's pictures have darkened in tone, probably 
 because they were based in bitumen ; but there are still many 
 clearly preserved examples of him in England, Holland, and Ger- 
 many. He was a very prolific painter, though he seems to have 
 had very little encouragement. His landscapes lacked in human 
 interest, and were not appreciated by the people of his time. The 
 painter died in an almshouse, and to-day his pictures are placed at 
 the head of all Dutch landscape art, and sell for enormous prices 
 in the auction rooms. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 JACOB VAN RUISDAEL was bom the most reserved, the least likely to cap- 
 at Haarlem about 1628 — some say tivate the eye at first sight. He is one of 
 1630. It was formerly supposed that he those rare spirits whose inwardness is re- 
 was bom in 1645, but on the discovery of vealed little by little; a lofty soul, grave, 
 a picture by him bearing this latter date, tender, and tranquil, who loved the coun- 
 it was thought prudent to put back the try, where silent nature ruminates far from 
 date of his birth some fifteen years or so. the world and its restless eagerness to 
 His father, who was a cabinet-maker, de- shine; a solitary rambler, simple, natural, 
 signed him for the study of medicine, but and dignified ; a painter of the gray side 
 his remarkable inclination toward art, of nature, as harmonizing best with his 
 evincing itself at a very early age, de- own reflective and habitually pensive 
 termined his profession ; he produced mood ; a lover of mists and clouds, of 
 pictures at the age of twelve years that moist and shady glens, of rocky declivi- 
 astonished artists and amateurs. ties, and mountains. It has been said of 
 Of all the Dutch masters, Ruisdael is his works that they are the embodiment of 
 
126 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 the poetry of melancholy. He certainly 
 shows no liveliness, and in this respect he 
 is singular among his more sprightly breth- 
 ren. But he possesses a charm which is 
 peculiarly his own — his supreme quality 
 is repose. Before his works one is im- 
 pressed with a feeling of serenity and pro- 
 found peace. No one expresses better 
 than Ruisdael the grandeur and amplitude 
 of the heavens ; he veils them with clouds, 
 which gratefully temper the light that is 
 delicately diffused in subtle gradations of 
 values. His coloring is gray and cool, 
 somewhat darkish in character, varying 
 from green to slate-color and brown, 
 rather monotonous, but harmonious. 
 
 Ruisdael never knew how to put figures 
 of men and animals into his pictures, and 
 for this purpose sought the aid of his fel- 
 low-artists Berchem,Van de Velde, Wou- 
 werman, and Lingelbach. Berchem is 
 said to have been his teacher, though Sal- 
 omon van Ruisdael, his uncle, was his 
 earliest instructor. Hobbema is said to 
 have been Jacob's pupil. Ruisdael was 
 not appreciated in his day, and his great 
 labors did not enrich him. Neglected and 
 obscure, he fell into dire want in his old 
 age ; and finally, in commiseration of his 
 distress rather than from respect for his 
 genius, which was hardly suspected by any 
 one, he was admitted to the almshouse of 
 Haarlem, his native town, where he died 
 March 14, 1682. 
 
 One of the most imposing and beauti- 
 ful of Ruisdael's paintings — certainly a 
 magnificent work, before which one might 
 linger unconscious of all time — is the river 
 view at the Ryks Museum, Amsterdam, 
 which will be better remembered as " The 
 Windmill." It is a singularly impressive 
 piece, representing a dead calm before a 
 storm. The mill, with its dark, wide-spread 
 arms, rises high in the canvas to the right, 
 upon the summit of a terraced ground — 
 a palisade lapped by the dark and quiet 
 river. The white sail of a boat, toward 
 mid-stream, — flat, and unruffled by the 
 slightest breeze, and of exquisite value in 
 
 its relief and in its delicate reflection in 
 the water, — rises softly against the far- 
 off horizon. Above is the wide sky, heavy 
 with clouds, which break as they scale to- 
 ward the top of the canvas, disclosing the 
 gray blue of the heavens through the 
 watery vapors. AH is one harmonious 
 and powerful tone composed of rich neu- 
 tral browns and dark slate-colors, flowing 
 and melting the one into the other in sub- 
 tle gradations of shades — all shadow, so 
 to speak, everywhere except the pink flush 
 of light crowning the disks of two clouds 
 high up near the middle of the sky, which 
 is the final gleam of the retiring sun. The 
 mysterious sense of expectancy which is 
 the essence of this work is heightened by 
 the strange Hght, as of an eclipse, that is 
 diffused over all. I have felt at times that 
 this picture was really the most entrancing 
 thing I had ever beheld. 
 
 Equally charming and impressive is the 
 " Gleam of .Sunshine " at the Louvre. One 
 is confounded by the beauty and the as- 
 tonishing quantity of work in this most 
 refined piece. In this, one would say, 
 Ruisdael touches the limit of his skill. 
 
 The National Gallery of London, in ad- 
 dition to the many fine works it possesses 
 by Ruisdael, has lately acquired another 
 very fine one, which is remarkably well 
 preserved. It is entitled " A Coast View 
 at Scheveningen," — Scheveningen is a 
 watering-place near The Hague, — and is 
 the gayest Ruisdael that I have seen. The 
 sea is in shadow and the coast in sun- 
 light, while the sky is piled with Hght, 
 warm clouds. Figures of men and women 
 dot the beach, some shading their eyes 
 from the sun with their fans. Of a piece 
 with this in sentiment is " Le Buisson " 
 ("The Thicket") at the Louvre, shown 
 in the illustration. A bush, tormented 
 by the wind, comes out with great force 
 in the foreground, while the sunlight, 
 which gilds the cumulus clouds, bright- 
 ens the road where the man and dogs 
 are, and glances along the fence, behind 
 which is a glimpse of the village in the 
 
JACOB VAN RUISDAEL 
 
 127 
 
 distance veiled in gray and watery va- 
 pors. 
 
 In these galleries, where masterpieces 
 crowd one another, one may pause often 
 before a rare piece,ackno wledge its beauty, 
 and pass on unmoved. But there comes 
 a time, in the course of repeated visits, 
 when the same picture discloses itself, and 
 fills one with the rapture of a new dis- 
 covery. Then, in the enthusiasm of the 
 moment, one is ready to attribute to the 
 
 new-found love every possible and im- 
 aginable excellence. Only in this way 
 can I account for such a writer as Mich- 
 elet, for instance, calling " The Tempest " 
 by Ruisdael " the prodigy of the Louvre." 
 But one might commit the same excess 
 with all of these wonderful works of art ; 
 each one seems to tyrannize over every- 
 thing else during the time one devotes 
 to it. 
 
 T. C. 
 
MEYNDERT HOBBEMA 
 
Chapter XV 
 
 MEYNDERT HOBBEMA 
 
 (i638?-i709) 
 
 THE origin of landscape cannot be placed to the credit of the 
 Dutch any more than the origin of genre-painting. Both 
 kinds of art were known to the Italians, and to say that 
 Pauwel Bril painted landscapes in the sixteenth century is to invite 
 the statement that Bellini and Carpaccio painted them in the fif- 
 teenth century. The Italians, however, never painted trees, skies, 
 and mountains for their own sake, and as picture motives in them- 
 selves. They used them as a background for figures. The Dutch, 
 on the contrary, saw a beauty in nature, aside from its being a thea- 
 ter of human action, and so painted it, and, in that respect, they 
 may be said to have practically inaugurated landscape as an inde- 
 pendent branch of art, if they did not originate it. 
 
 Exclusive of the early men, there were three painters who estab- 
 lished the type of landscape in Dutch art — Ruisdael, Wynants, and 
 Hobbema. The last-named was the latest in point of time, and in 
 many respects he was the most mature and talented of the trio. 
 He has been ranked above and below his real master, Ruisdael, 
 according as the views of critics have varied ; and, indeed, a good 
 case could be made out on either side. As a painter he was Ruis- 
 dael's superior ; as a man of imagination he was Ruisdael's inferior. 
 He should be considered by himself; yet a comparison between the 
 two men arises naturally, because Hobbema was greatly influenced 
 by Ruisdael, adopted his style, something of his composition, light, 
 and color ; and at times was so like his master that their pictures 
 have been interchanged in attributions. This likeness is, however, 
 more apparent than real, and a closer study of Hobbema reveals 
 
132 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 him as quite an independent spirit, though he undoubtedly derived 
 much pictorial sustenance from his predecessor. 
 
 Hobbema never had Ruisdael's singleness of aim, nor his sus- 
 tained sentiment. He was not a man of such large mental caliber 
 as his master ; yet in what he saw and painted he seems to have 
 been more original. The so-called Norwegian landscape appealed 
 to him less than the scenes of his native land. Such subjects as 
 quiet woodlands, water-mills with bushes and pools, and here and 
 there a small figure — all of them distincdy Dutch — were more to 
 his liking. He was positive and realistic with such scenes, though 
 he sometimes failed in ensemble. Details of foliage led him astray 
 into flickers of light, and the white trunk of a birch so interested 
 him that he often gave it undue prominence at the expense of the 
 general effect. Subordination to an idea or a sentiment, a feature 
 so prominent in Ruisdael, was wanting in Hobbema. He had no 
 very pronounced sentiment aside from a love for quiet, sunlit nature. 
 The master's pervasive melancholy is apparent only in the pupil's 
 color, and that, at times, seems inappropriate to the sunny scenes 
 he painted. 
 
 Though Hobbema had not his master's sobriety of view, and cared 
 little for his classic landscape, he, nevertheless, knew his method of 
 composition, and many of his studio conventionalities. He was fond 
 of a symmetrical arrangement after the academic manner, as the en- 
 graved picture will show ; and in all his large compositions he has 
 somewhat of studied formality. On the contrary, his smaller pic- 
 tures, like those at Dresden, seem as unconventional as though he 
 had cut off a piece of nature with a window frame and painted it 
 just as it stood. Besides the balanced composition, he often used 
 the diagonal sky line, dividing the canvas into two triangles, the 
 upper portion being given to light sky, the lower portion to dark 
 ground. This was a favorite method of composing with Van Goyen 
 and Cuyp, and possibly Hobbema learned it from the former. And 
 again, he was fond of perspective lines running diagonally toward 
 a distant point where sky and trees and hills converged, like the 
 spokes of awheel toward the hub. The tree-lines, road-lines, sky- 
 lines of Mr. Cole's engraving illustrate this. In aerial perspective 
 he was not always so effective. He marred the effect of atmosphere 
 by undue detail in distant objects, or by a preternatural spot of light 
 on the ground or on a tree trunk. A careful student of nature, he 
 was a sharp draftsman, and laid in separate leaves against the sky, 
 
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MEYNDERT HOBBEMA I33 
 
 and drew twigs and branches, with all the hardness of a youthful 
 Diaz. Skies and clouds he knew quite as thoroughly as Ruisdael, 
 and in all the details of a foreground he was precise enough to suit 
 the most exacting truth-to-nature lover. In light he was fond of 
 the sunburst falling on picturesque water-mills, or upon the tops of 
 trees and bushes. He spent infinite time and labor filtering this 
 light through tree foliage, flashing it upon pools of water, dry 
 ground, stones — anything that would reflect it. In this feature I 
 believe he was responsible for the spottiness of Constable in Eng- 
 land, and of Rousseau, Dupre, and Diaz, in France. They all 
 studied Hobbema, and from him learned how to enliven the dark 
 portions of pictures with sparkles of light from pools, rocks, broken 
 branches, and small figures. 
 
 It seems impossible to reconcile this full sunlight with Hobbema's 
 dull color. His palette was only a little more varied than that of 
 Ruisdael, and he doubtless set it after that of his master. Grays, 
 olive greens, and browns predominated, though at times he struck 
 into a livelier key. His color was not so cold as Ruisdael's, for he 
 based his trees in russet for warmth, and then laid upon this basing 
 the dull greens of foliage. His color had its charm of sobriety, but 
 it also had its lack of variety — its monotony. " The Avenue — 
 Middelharnis," in the National Gallery, would be an almost perfect 
 picture were it not for its slaty grays and its mildewed greens. The 
 composition is unique, the perspective accurate, the atmosphere 
 good, the sky superb in its expanse ; but the color is forbidding, 
 notwithstanding it is appropriate to the gray day and the clouded 
 sky that are represented. At Dresden there are some more sketchy 
 pictures that seem to have greater brilliancy and vitality, though 
 they are less important in size and composition. The Dresden pic- 
 tures, too, show Hobbema at his best in handling the brush. He is 
 freer in touch, fuller in impasto, more solid in modeling, and again 
 he reminds us of Diaz. The skies are brushed in vigorously, as 
 Ruisdael never thought of doing them ; the trees are handled in 
 mass rather than in detail, and the sparkle of small lights is not so 
 apparent. It is from these small pictures that we gain the clearest 
 idea of Hobbema's ability and his originality. He was a student of 
 what he saw in Holland, and had it not been for the color influence 
 of his master, he might have given us a more complete portrait of 
 Netherlands scenery than any painter of the school. As it was, 
 though he was wanting in Ruisdael's depth and reserve force, he 
 
134 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 was infinitely truer to locality, better in color, and a more versatile 
 painter in every way than that master. Half a dozen cities claim 
 his birth, but they failed to appreciate him during his life. He died 
 in poverty, and his resurrection as a painter is due to the English. 
 Most of his works are in England, and it cannot be doubted that 
 they there had great influence ui^on Constable, and through him 
 influenced the Fontainebleau-Barbizon painters in P'rance. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 THE landscapes of Meyndert Hob- 
 bema were little known or appreci- 
 ated until about a century after his death, 
 and consequently the details of his life are 
 few and scanty. He is said to have stud- 
 ied under Salomon van Ruisdael, though 
 by others he is believed to have been the 
 pupil of the greater Jacob van Ruisdael, 
 nephew of the former. He certainly en- 
 joyed the friendship and advice of the lat- 
 ter, whose junior he was by a few years, 
 and, as might naturally be expected, his 
 works bear a certain affinity to those of 
 his famous contemporary. He was bom 
 in 1638, probably at Amsterdam, though 
 the city of Haarlem, the town of Koever- 
 den, and the village of Middelharnis in 
 Holland are each said to have been his 
 birthplace. He is known, however, to 
 have resided at Amsterdam, and to have 
 been married therein 1668, to which event 
 his friend Jacob was a witness. He then 
 recorded his age as thirty. He died in 
 Amsterdam, December 14, 1709, and was 
 buried there, ending his days in poverty 
 and obscurity, his last lodging being in 
 the Roosgraft, the street in which Rem- 
 brandt had died, just as poor, forty years 
 before. 
 
 Only thirty-five years ago the best of 
 
 his works was not valued at much more 
 than thirty dollars, and often the signa- 
 tures were effaced from them, and better 
 known names, such as those of Ruisdael 
 and Decker, were substituted. Now, how- 
 ever, his canvases are highly valued, and 
 a work which before went begging at 
 thirty dollars would, perhaps, fetch a thou- 
 sand times as much. 
 
 The subject I have engraved is known 
 as "The Avenue, Middelharnis, Holland." 
 The long avenue of straight, lopped trees 
 leads up to the village, in which the church 
 tower is a conspicuous object. It is a 
 faithful and characteristic glimpse of Hol- 
 land, with its pastures, waterways, low 
 horizons, and expansive and impressive 
 skies. Above all, it is the sky which holds 
 us here ; we feel the vastness of the im- 
 mense vault of heaven. The work is gray 
 and neutral in coloring. It is one of the 
 finest of Hobbema's pictures, and is to 
 be seen in tlie National Gallery, London. 
 It is on canvas, and measures three feet, 
 four and one half inches high, by four 
 feet, seven and one half inches wide. The 
 date upon it, 16-9, is read by some to be 
 1689, which would make it one of the 
 latest of the artist's signed pictures. 
 
 T. C. 
 
PAUL POTTER 
 
Chapter XVI 
 
 PAUL POTTER 
 
 (1625-1654) 
 
 THE name of Paul Potter has been made famous by one 
 picture, and that one not, In all respects, the painter's best 
 effort — the " Young Bull " of The Hague Museum. People 
 crowd about it to-day, just as they probably did two hundred years 
 ago, to admire " the way in which that young bull stands out." 
 Their observation is only too accurate ; the bull seems in some 
 danger of falling out of the picture frame ; but it never seems to 
 have occurred to the observers that it is not the object of painting 
 to make things " stand out." On the contrary, it has been the aim 
 of painters for many centuries, to make things stand in. Landscape 
 does not resemble a convex mirror. To our eyes it is not a protru- 
 sion, but a depth lighted by a sun, a recession in space, a dimin- 
 ishing vista enveloped and held together in its parts by atmosphere. 
 Does the picture in question verify or falsify this every-day elemen- 
 tary truth ? What is the merit of Paul Potter's "Young Bull?" 
 Has it merit, and is it really famous, or is it merely notorious ? 
 
 If we analyze the picture we shall find that it is not a pic- 
 ture in the sense of its being a single united impression. It is 
 merely a study of a young bull. The animal occupies the center of 
 the canvas, and around him, above him, beyond him, are accessory 
 objects having little or no relation to the bull — objects lugged into 
 the picture by the ears, for the purpose of filling space. The man, 
 the trees, the hard sheep, and the harder cow, have no more actual 
 existence than the disjointed planes of the distant meadows. The 
 whole composition as a picture is weak, amateurish, almost puerile. 
 One feature only of the landscape helps the bull, and even that 
 
138 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 feature is handled without shrewdness. I refer to tlie sky. The 
 dark of the bull's head has been relieved against a light sky, and 
 the lighter hind-quarters have been placed against a dark storm- 
 cloud. The relief is by contrast, the least subtile of all methods. 
 Yet it served Potter's purpose well. He was painting the portrait 
 of a bull, and the contrast w' as, perhaps, necessary to emphasize the 
 clear outline. 
 
 But what of the portrait itself? Is it as badly done as the rest 
 of the picture ? By no means. It is unnecessarily rigid and woodeny, 
 the anatomy is perhaps too sharply accented, the modeling is over- 
 modeling, and the painting is under-painting. It has, however, 
 been praised as a line piece of patient, accurate drawing ; and such 
 it is. There is little fault to be found with it in that respect; yet, 
 perhaps, the praise would better be bestowed upon the final aim 
 and meaning of the accuracy. The painter has sought to give the 
 physical character of a bull ; but this character does not necessarily 
 rest in the anatomical drawing, in curled hair, and shining eyes. 
 The details are good, but the bull, as a whole, is better ; and it is 
 the wholeness of the character that makes the likeness striking. 
 It is a young bull that the painter has pictured, and we feel his 
 age from his size, his head and neck development, his weight, 
 his general pose and attitude. There is the air and the braggado- 
 cio, the alertness and the "smartness" of a two-year-old about the 
 beast. The type and temperament, almost the breeding of the ani- 
 mal, are revealed to us. In short, the impression conveyed is a 
 positive one. We have the characteristic nature of the animal so 
 convincingly presented, the fitness of life so completely justified, 
 that again, regardless of subject, we abandon classic canons of 
 beauty to admire it. It is the same truth of character shown in the 
 animal that Hals and Terburg have shown in the human being ; it 
 is the same grasp of essentials so apparent in the work of all these 
 Dutch painters ; it is the same clearness of perception that makes 
 all the Dutch work beautiful in its truth of insight. The whole im- 
 pression is convincing, and it is this impression that people have 
 felt and admired. That they have declared the virtue of the bull 
 to lie in his "standing out," only proves that a general judgment 
 may be right, but that the specific reason given for it may be 
 wrong. 
 
 Potter was a close student of detail, and saw the character of 
 single objects with much truth ; 'but he was wofully weak in the pic- 
 
PAUL POTTER I39 
 
 torial correlation of his forces. To refer to The Hague picture 
 again for iUustration, he made a separate study of the bull and then 
 tried to transfer it to a landscape setting. He succeeded in the 
 study, but failed in adjusting the bull to the landscape. The cause 
 for this is not far to seek. Potter was a student of art ; he never 
 became a thorough master of art. He had not the time to learn his 
 craft thoroughly, for he died at twenty-nine. The "Young Bull" 
 was painted at twenty-two. It shows a young painter who never 
 had an adequate master — a boy toiling along and studying directly 
 from nature, regardless of the art of his brilliant contemporaries. 
 Every touch of his brush speaks the innocent frankness and sin- 
 cerity of youth ; but it also speaks the immaturity, the lack of train- 
 ing, incident to youth. He was working out the technic of painting 
 by himself Circumstances willed it that he should be a self-made, 
 or rather a self-making man, for the making was interrupted by 
 death. His early taking away is matter for regret, but it should 
 not be a reason for declaring Potter a great painter. He was a 
 great student, if you will, but never a great master. There was 
 hardly one fine painter's quality about him. Some small pictures in 
 the National Gallery, and a notable one in the Louvre, the " Horses 
 at the Door of a Cottage " (painted in the same year as the " Young 
 Bull "), would seem to deny this ; but the more one sees of these 
 pictures the more askance he looks at their attributions. Is it pos- 
 sible that the same hand painted the " Horses at the Door of a 
 Cottage," and then, five years later, painted the " Meadow," hang- 
 ing on the opposite wall ? Yet the painter of the " Meadow " (1652) 
 was the painter of the "Young Bull" (1647), the "Bear Hunt" 
 (1649), the "Orpheus" (1650), the " Shepherd and Sheep " (1651) 
 at Amsterdam. It has the same drawing, colorino- and handling; 
 it is just as hard in substance, just as disjointed in composition, just 
 as faulty in light, just as harsh in treatment, as the pictures cited. 
 The year following the painting of the " Meadow," Potter died. 
 Did he ever, at any time, reach the degree of facility, the knowledge 
 of color, light, and atmosphere shown in the " Horses at the Door 
 of a Cottage" and the National Gallery pictures? Potter's name 
 on a picture has always had great value, and it has made valuable 
 a number of pictures never painted by his hand. 
 
 Again we return to the conclusion that Potter was an aspiration 
 rather than a consummation. He could draw a cow, a tree, a rock, 
 a leaf with harsh e.xactness, and he could paint them with a rasping, 
 
140 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 wiry brush ; but he could not put them together and make a picture 
 of them. He did not understand subordination, atmosphere, values, 
 or picture planes. His compositions begin anywhere, and ramble 
 indefinitely so long as there is canvas ; they are illuminated by a 
 light that comes from no point in particular ; and their coloring is 
 lacking in unity, depth, richness, and transparency. This was the 
 result of an insufficient education, which he was striving to better 
 with unwearying patience and industry when his life was suddenly 
 cut short. What he might have done had he been spared can hardly 
 be considered ; what he achieved under adverse circumstances, to- 
 gether with the noble patience and candid spirit of his achievement, 
 cannot be too highly praised. If we regard his work as the study 
 of a young man devoted to the realistic portrayal of character in 
 landscape and cattle, we shall find much to admire ; if we regard 
 his work as final pictorial accomplishment, we shall not escape dis- 
 appointment. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 PAUL POTTER'S career was of short 
 duration, but the number of works 
 which he executed, and the zeal and un- 
 tiring energy with which he labored, were 
 extraordinary. He was born at Enkhui- 
 zen, a fishing-village on the Zuyder Zee, 
 November 20, 1625, and studied art under 
 his father, an obscure landscape-painter ; 
 yet such was the precocity of his talent 
 that at the age of fourteen years he exe- 
 cuted a charming etching, and from that 
 time forth produced work upon work. 
 He lived for some years with his father 
 at Amsterdam ; then, at the age of twenty- 
 one, he went to Delft, where during two 
 years he painted many of his pictures, in- 
 cluding his large work, the" Young Bull." 
 In 1649 he took up his residence at The 
 Hague, where he joined the Painters' 
 Guild, and rose to fame and princely 
 patronage. In 1650 he married, and in 
 1652 returned once more to Amsterdam, 
 at the instance of one of his chief patrons, 
 the burgomaster Tulp. Here, his health 
 
 rapidly failing, he died in 1654 of con- 
 sumption, superinduced by over-work. 
 
 During this brief period of not more 
 than fourteen working years, the latter 
 part of which must have been hampered 
 by disease, he produced an astonishing 
 amount of work. His paintings amount 
 to 103, besides i8 etchings, together with 
 numerous drawingsand studies, including 
 landscapes, and heads of oxen and sheep 
 in varied positions with difficult fore-short- 
 enings ; trees and tree-trunks well under- 
 stood ; carts and plows, and all kinds of 
 farming implements, showing singular pre- 
 cision of design. 
 
 The " Young Bull," considered as a 
 piece of portraiture, is doubtless a fine 
 work. It is one of the most celebrated 
 things in Holland, and The Hague Mu- 
 seum owes to it a large part of the curi- 
 osity of which it is the object. Though 
 it may not fill all the requirements of a 
 perfect picture, it nevertheless satisfies as 
 a complete and conclusive portrayal of a 
 
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 _ c 
 
 s t" 
 
 txi 
 
 ■< 
 
 > 
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 •n 
 O 
 H 
 H 
 
PAUL POTTER 
 
 141 
 
 bull, and has been rightly termed " The 
 Bull." 
 
 In point of execution it is marvelously 
 minute ; the single hairs upon the brute's 
 head are seemingly palpable to the touch, 
 and flies are seen buzzing about. This 
 closeness of observation extends to the 
 bark and foliage of the tree, and the grass 
 and pebbles on the ground, where also a 
 toad is seen ; yet, although the artist ap- 
 pears to ignore the art of sacrifices, and 
 the fact that things must sometimes be 
 suggested and but half expressed, he does 
 not lose sight of breadth. This work 
 measures eight feet six inches in height, 
 by nine feet ten inches in width, and was 
 painted in 1647, when the artist was but 
 twenty-two years of age. 
 
 The Hague Museum possesses a por- 
 trait of Paul Potter painted by Van der 
 Heist in 1654, and as Potter died in Jan- 
 uary of that year, it follows that this por- 
 trait must have been completed but a (ew 
 days before his death. It shows a sensi- 
 tive and refined countenance, light hair 
 and eyelashes, full, strong lips, and deli- 
 cate mustache. He is clad in velvet, and 
 sits by his easel with palette and brushes 
 in hand, looking out at the spectator with 
 a serious, determined expression. It seems 
 very remarkable that this should be the 
 likeness of a man wasted with consump- 
 tion, and at death's door. But it is not 
 more remarkable than his life, which was 
 one of prodigious labor, and wonderful 
 perseverance. 
 
 T. C. 
 
AELBERT CUYP 
 
Chapter XVII 
 
 AELBERT CUYP 
 
 (I620-I69I) 
 
 I HAVE reserved to the last, not the greatest, but the most versa- 
 tile of all the Dutch painters — Aelbert Cuyp. He traversed 
 the whole domain of painting, and in all its departments, still- 
 life, landscape, marines, animals, portraits, even historical pictures 
 — for such the " Landing of Prince Maurice," in Bridgewater House, 
 may be considered — he left recording canvases. He was a man 
 of great talent, and painted many subjects well ; but perhaps we 
 should have cared more for his art had he painted one subject with 
 superlative power. Nothing that he produced lacks in knowledge 
 and skill ; but nothing that he produced has the stamp of great ge- 
 nius. When the human mind spreads wide, we must be content if, 
 at times, we find that it spreads thin. 
 
 Though Cuyp devoted himself to all the departments of paint- 
 ing, his Weuse landscape with cattle was his favorite theme, and it 
 is by this subject, more than any other, that he is familiar to picture 
 lovers. His riding-parties, portraits, marines, appear frequently in 
 European collections, but they fail in holding our interest as com- 
 pared with his landscapes. As for his still-life and flower pieces, it 
 is sometimes doubted if he painted them, and at any rate they are 
 not his best work. The Louvre picture that Mr. Cole has engraved 
 is a characteristic example of Cuyp's landscape, — in fact, one of his 
 happiest efforts, — and in it one may see not only his usual mood of 
 mind, but many of his peculiar methods of working. The concep- 
 tion is one of profound pastoral peace under a warm summer sky, 
 with light clouds heaped up against the blue, and a yellow light 
 flooding down into the foreground. It is a dreamer's day, a day of 
 
146 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 golden haze, blowing thistle-down, humming bees, ruminating cows, 
 warm air, and soft shadows. There is no action in the scene ; 
 nothing dramatic in incident to break the spell. It is a vision of 
 rest ; and the great charm of it undoubtedly lies in the soft light 
 that pervades and tinges everything with a summer day's warmth. 
 That Cuyp painted this light as yellow as the picture now shows 
 us may be doubted. He probably used amber varnish, not only as 
 a surface glaze, but as a vehicle for his pigments, and time has in- 
 tensified the yellowness of appearance. Aside from this, he was 
 fond of the semi-Italian light of Both and Berchem, and he probably 
 deepened its golden tone for uniformity of coloring. 
 
 The composition of the picture seems simple enough, and yet, 
 like all Cuyp's pictures, it is full of subtile perspective lines, reliefs 
 by contrast, and repetitions of objects and colors, all woven together 
 into a single unity with extraordinary skill. The main composition 
 line is a diagonal running from the right upper corner to the left 
 lower corner, and the contrast is that of a dark lower triangle of 
 ground, cattle, and figures, against a light upper triangle of sky and 
 clouds. Perspective is gained by leading the eye from the large 
 man playing the pipe and the large cattle to the small sheep and 
 shepherds on the hill ; and again, by receding steps as it were, from 
 the large dark tree to the lighter tower of the middle distance and 
 the two wind-mills of the far background. These lar^e lines, con- 
 trasts, and repetitions not only give perspective, but they indicate 
 the great sweep and space of the sky which are so powerfully felt 
 in the picture. Nor does the contrast end with these broader and 
 more apparent definitions. Cuyp seems to have been very fond of 
 offsetting one object by another object, and emphasizing each by 
 contrariety. The large man playing the pipe is a contrast to the 
 small children, the large cattle to the small sheep, the light cow in 
 the center to the dark cows about her, the blue sky to the light yel- 
 • low clouds, sunlight at the left to storm-clouds at the right. The 
 antithesis is even carried into the coloring and handling, as in the 
 dark precision of the foreground, with its coarse touch upon foliage 
 and cattle, contrasted with the hazy lightness of the background, 
 and the infinite delicacy with which the sky and clouds are painted. 
 That this intricate network of lines, groups, and objects was ap- 
 parent in the actual scene is hardly possible. Nature is seldom so 
 accommodating to painters. But Cuyp never cared too much about 
 actualities. Nature furnished him with the materials, and he trans- 
 
AELBERT CUYP 147 
 
 formed them as he pleased. He was not averse to showing his 
 knowledge and skill in composing a picture, and it must be admitted 
 that his result generally justified his display. The effect of a Hol- 
 land landscape under sunlight, with expansive sky, drifting clouds, 
 quiet water, and a general air of drowsiness, has been given in this 
 picture, and that was the painter's aim from the start. 
 
 Cuyp was hardly so successful with the other subjects he under- 
 took. His riding-parties of ladies and gentlemen — the two prome- 
 nade pictures in the Louvre for instance — are striking in their blues 
 and reds of costumes ; but the horses are somewhat faulty in draw- 
 ing and action, and the men are curiously self-conscious. The cor- 
 rect pose for an equestrian portrait seems uppermost in their minds. 
 Moreover, the contrasts of light and dark are here too palpable, 
 and the red and blue costumes are hardly true in tone. F'or por- 
 traits Cuyp seems to have had no special talent. He painted people 
 much as he painted horses, sometimes with a harsh brush, and at 
 other times with smooth porcelain surfaces and hard outlines. His 
 marines were much better ; and his shore pieces with boats and 
 figures, of which the " Landing of Prince Maurice" is the larcjest 
 and most notable example, seem directly responsible for the charm- 
 ing pictures of that little understood painter, Jan van der Capelle. 
 
 The handling of Cuyp can hardly be summarized, for he varied 
 it continually to suit his subjects. In no case is it exceptionally 
 strong. At times he is rasping, and putters over detail with a brit- 
 tle brush, as in the foreground foliage of the engraved picture ; and 
 then again he is delicate, almost feathery in his touch, as in his skies 
 and clouds. His drawing varies in the same way. Cattle under 
 his brush seem to have a plethora of bone substance, and are re- 
 markable for an emphasis of the skeleton ; whereas his horses and 
 figures often run to fatty tissue and abnormal plumpness. He was 
 more successful with color, though not always maintaining its true 
 value. He pitched it in an auburn key for cattle and landscapes, but 
 when painting horses and figures he used a fuller palette. His 
 greatest success was in light, and its distribution over landscape. 
 Here he gave not only the truth of mellow sunlight, but usually its 
 proper tonal effect upon all the objects and colors in the picture. 
 The golden glow of mid-day or afternoon pleased him best ; but he 
 also painted moonlights, storm-lights, and in the Prince Maurice 
 picture there is a white light breaking through a mist that is mar- 
 velous in its luminosity. Comparing it with the usual mellow 
 
148 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 glow of his meadow landscapes brings out again the wonderful 
 versatility of the man. 
 
 Cuyp, all told, was an astonishing painter in his knowledge of 
 nature and art. He seldom repeated himself, and when a new j^ic- 
 ture by him is brought to light, it is new in more than the matter 
 of its discovery. He found and painted something unique in almost 
 every feature of Holland and its people. That such diversity of 
 effort should result in some dissipation of strength was inevitable ; 
 yet the wonder is, embracing, as he did, all subjects, that he should 
 have done work of such uniform excellence. He established no new 
 conception, led no new school of art, and yet he holds high rank in 
 Dutch painting by virtue of his versatility, his industry, and his ac- 
 complishments. It is not given every painter to be a Cuyp, as 
 David said about Boucher ; and though we may prefer the single 
 idea of a Corot wrought to perfection, we need not despise the 
 varied ideas of a more comprehensive mind, though they be less 
 perfect in form and setting. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 A ELBERT CUYP was bom at Dord- 
 . recht, or Dort, in 1620, and not in 
 1605, as has been accepted until recently. 
 He was one of the first of the school, be- 
 ginning with its robust incipiency, and 
 living to witness its decline. He died in 
 1 69 1. Bythediversity of his talent he con- 
 tributed greatly to enlarging the list of 
 those homely observations which charac- 
 terize the art of his period, and the variety 
 of his subjects makes up almost a com- 
 plete repertory of Dutch life, especially in 
 its rural phases. He was well-to-do, liv- 
 ing upon his own estate, and painting 
 what he pleased and at his leisure, and 
 according to the inspiration of the mo- 
 ment. Taking nature ever as his guide, 
 he rarely fails to impress us by a charm- 
 ingly naive conception. 
 
 Very little is known of his early life ; he 
 was the pupil of his father, Jacob Gerritsz 
 Cuyp, a landsca])e-painter. It is probable 
 that he visited other parts of Holland be- 
 
 fore beginning to paint on his own ac- 
 count at Dort. He was little known or 
 appreciated in his day, owing to the taste 
 which sprang up at that time for the ex- 
 treme finish that the works of Dou and 
 his school exhibited. For this reason 
 Rembrandt also suddenly lost favor, and 
 other rare spirits, like Ruisdael, were mis- 
 understood and neglected. Until 1750, 
 the best examples of Cuyp were not valued 
 at more than twelve dollars apiece. The 
 English have the honor of first disclosing 
 him to the world, and consequently Eng- 
 land possesses the majority of his works. 
 The engraved example is one of his finest 
 pictures, and is to be seen in the Louvre 
 at Paris. It is also one of his largest, 
 measuring five feet seven and one half 
 inches high by seven feet six and one 
 half inches wide. The temperament of 
 Cuyp led him to seek calm and sunny 
 scenes, and his rare faculty for rendering 
 Hght, and the atmospheric efiects of hazy 
 
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 o 
 
 > 
 PI 
 
 c ■ 
 
AELBERT CUYP 
 
 149 
 
 morning, of glowing afternoon, and of 
 golden evening, is well known. Dwelling 
 on the banks of the placid Meuse, he de- 
 lighted in reproducing the warm skies of 
 summer or autumn, and the amber-colored 
 atmosphere that enveloped the surround- 
 ing hills. 
 
 Speaking of the painting here engraved, 
 Fromentin, in his admirable work on the 
 old masters of Belgium and Holland, has 
 the following : 
 
 " No one could go farther in the art of 
 painting light, of rendering the pleasing 
 and restful sensations with which a warm 
 atmosphere envelops and penetrates one. 
 It is a picture. It is true without being 
 too true ; it shows observation without be- 
 ing a copy. The air that bathes it, the 
 amber warmth with which it is soaked, 
 that gold which is but a veil, those colors 
 which are only theresultof the light which 
 inundates them, of the air which circulates 
 
 around, and of the sentiment of the painter 
 which transforms them, those values so 
 tender in a whole which is so strong — all 
 these things come both from nature and 
 from a conception ; it would be a master- 
 piece if there had not slipped into it some 
 insufficiencies which seem the work of a 
 young man or of an absent-minded de- 
 signer." 
 
 What these " insufficiencies " are may 
 be seen in the proportion of the children 
 to the shepherd playing upon the pipe, 
 though this detracts nothing from the 
 charm and poetry of the whole. Such, 
 apparently, is the enchantment of the 
 scene that I have come to imagine these 
 little creatures as intended by the artist to 
 represent the genii of the place, evoked 
 by the music of the shejiherd, and the har- 
 mony of this rarest of occasions, when all 
 nature is attuned. 
 
 T. C. 
 
A NOTE ON FLEMISH ART 
 
A NOTE ON FLEMISH ART 
 
 IF it be true that art is the product of its surroundings, — the reflec- 
 tion of the spirit, the thought, the general character of the 
 people producing it, — then it follows that Flemish life must have 
 been different from Dutch life, since the art- result was different in 
 both matter and manner. The contrast between the two countries 
 in either life or art was not clearly apparent at first. In the fifteenth 
 century neither of them was of great political consequence. Flan- 
 ders was the more important country, the Dukes of Burgundy ruled, 
 and Holland was regarded as an outlying province of marsh lands 
 and fishing-ports. One religion spread over all the Low Coun- 
 tries ; and though there was always a demarkation line in faith and 
 character between the upper and the lower lands, yet this line be- 
 came distinct and prominent only with the Reformation and the 
 subsequent freedom of Holland from Spanish rule. 
 
 Once aroused, the Dutch began to show the sturdy, self-con- 
 tained, independent spirit that was within them. They threw off 
 the Church, threw off the Spanish yoke, and speedily developed a 
 national life of their own. The Flemincrs tried to do the same 
 things, but they failed. They had less energy, less conviction, less 
 unity among themselves than the Dutch. Their Netherlands blood 
 was not so pure, and there were many interests and influences to 
 change a native disposition. The provinces bordering on France 
 were more than half French, the Spanish and Austrian rulers were 
 Roman, in faith at least; and the whole country was bound to Italy 
 by political, commercial, and social ties. A mi.xed character in the 
 people resulted from these diversified influences. By birth the in- 
 habitants of Antwerp were allied to the inhabitants of Amsterdam ; 
 and some of the stern characteristics of the North were apparent 
 in the whole Flemish stock ; but there was much of the volatile 
 
154 <JLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 spirit of the South to leaven the himp. They did some hard fighting 
 for independence ; but they had not the tenacity, the lieroic stub- 
 bornness of the Hollanders. When peace was declared they were 
 glad enough to throw down the tools of war and take up the tools 
 of trade. After the passing of Alba the rulers grew lenient ; the 
 Church became liberal, worldly, indulgent; and so long as peace 
 and prosperity reigned the people were willing enough to let mat- 
 ters take their own course. The devastated lands were soon re- 
 stored, the cities were rebuilded, commerce was reestablished. 
 Wealth accrued from shop and mart, and the Flemish character 
 be^an to show its true colors once more in luxurious free life, fond- 
 ness for display, civic fetes, triumphal processions, and all the hun- 
 dred and one smaller ways in which a northern people with southern 
 inclinations would manifest its spirit of gaiety.. 
 
 It is but natural that a commercial, somewhat material people, 
 devoted in its amusements to ornamental display, should admire an 
 ornate and imposing art. Nothing in the Flemish life or character 
 during the seventeenth century required a severe or intellectual 
 art. The rich and sensuous in color was nearer their ideal than 
 the psychological or the ascetic in expression. In this respect 
 Antwerp was somewhat analogous to Venice. A similar class 
 of people called for a similar kind of painting ; and, making 
 allowance for national peculiarities, the art-product was similar 
 in its substance, or at the least subserved the same purpose and 
 voiced the same sentiments. It was a reverberation of commer- 
 cial splendor, luxurious life, and civic magnificence in both places. 
 In character, in national flavor, in decorative liveliness, each art 
 reflected its own people ; but in its exact form, its subject, and its 
 setting there were influences directing t'lemish art that must be 
 separately considered. 
 
 II 
 
 The Venetians cared not too much for the Church as a spiritual 
 adviser, and not at all for it as a political factor ; yet the Church i n 
 Venice was a most considerable influencer of art through its patron- 
 age. It was much like this at Antwerp. The Church, always a 
 power there, grew more powerful after the peace ; and this rather 
 through popular indifference than popular love. The paganism of 
 the Renaissance was at Antwerp ; and while many believed, many 
 
A NOTE ON FLEMISH ART 155 
 
 were skeptical or indifferent, or devoted to other pursuits than reh- 
 gion. So, while the people, after their wars, returned to their revels 
 at village kermess or court festival, the Jesuits, with great energy, 
 reestablished the shaken foundations of the Church. Coundess new 
 convents, schools, and ecclesiastical edifices were builded, old ones 
 were restored; and in accordance with the C ounter- Refo r matio n pol- 
 icy, these places were made attractive by the splendors of decoration. 
 The Church thus became, as indeed it had always been, one of the 
 largest patrons of painting, and by its orders for altar-pieces and 
 wall-panels gave a direction to the painter's art. It virtually 
 established the subject, the form, and the style of Flemish painting 
 in the seventeenth century. In its use and purpose the Dutch art 
 of the same period was wholly different. The Church was not the 
 patron of paintin g in Holland. The„demand jipon the painter's 
 skill came from corporatiQria>_hurghprs, merchanlsj^ and his portraits 
 and genre pictures we re designed for the privat e house, the town 
 hall, o r the ho s pital . In Flanders the demand^^arne JiroriL.ihe' 
 Churchj_jhe_cqurtj_the_city_; and the painter scaled his canvas, and 
 set his palette, for the large design to hang in the cathedral, the 
 palace, the public hall, even on the triumphal arch of princely pa- 
 rade. For such purposes the style of Terburg, Steen, or even Rem- 
 brandt, was neither fitted nor available. It was not large enough 
 in bulk, nor strong enough in line and composition. The minute 
 treatment of the Flemish Van E)'cks answered well enough in the 
 fifteenth century ; but that there was need for something with more 
 carrying power was early evidenced by Ouentin Massys in his life- 
 sized figures of the " Entombment," at Antwerp. Proportion of 
 canvas, e.xpanse of color, composed groups were necessities of the 
 altar-piece and the wall- panel if they would be seen at a distance in 
 large buildings. The Flemings of the sixteenth century must have 
 felt this, and some of their early imitation of Italy was doubtless 
 with the idea of learning the large composition to meet just this 
 need. 
 
 We shall not go far astray in beheving tnat the place of setting 
 and the purpose of Flemish pictures were responsible for the iorm 
 and style of those pictures. The Church dictated the subject and 
 place, but whence should the Flemings get their form and method ? 
 The small style of the native Van Eycks had been outgrown ; the 
 method of their neighbors, the Dutch, was not yet established. 
 The only painters who had successfully handled the large composi- 
 
156 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 tion were the Italians; and it is not stransje that the Fleminirs of 
 the early sixteenth century should have turned to them for instruc- 
 tion. Undoubtedly the Italian imitation that followed, in which 
 whole schools of Flemisb^^painters Jjepjm^rep roducin g the style of 
 the Italians, was helped along by other aims than the mere desire 
 to fill Flemish churches with properly composed altar-pieces. There 
 was abundance of admiration for the Italian success in all kinds of 
 painting. The Flemings felt the baseness of their form, and turned 
 to Italy to better it, much as the Early Renaissance Florentines 
 turned to Rome and Greece. They also felt the need for fuller fields 
 of color, and again they followed the example of Italy. That they 
 should do this was quite natural ; for Italy was the mother-land of 
 painting, the source from which European enlightenment had come, 
 the oracle of piety, learning, and art toward which all eyes were 
 turned. F"rance and Spain were already following her methods, 
 and why should Flanders hold aloof? 
 
 It is true that the Flemish result in painting during the sixteenth 
 century was not inspiring. It lacked in spontaneity, in genuine- 
 ness, in originality. It was too palpable an imitation ; and yet a 
 tinge of Netherlands individuality remained in it. Italian method 
 was acquired, but the northern painter could not possess himself of 
 the southern point of view. His eyes were Flemish though his hand 
 was Florentine ; and so, perhaps in spite of himself he produced a 
 native Flemish feeling in his work, clothed, as it was, in the bor- 
 rowed garb of Italy. The meeting of these two elements, Flemish 
 thought and Italian method, was abrupt and awkward enough — 
 more awkward than the meeting of nature and the antique in Botti- 
 celli, and much less original. The product was neither one thing 
 nor the other. Countless pictures were turned out by Mabuse, 
 Floris, Lambert Lombard, the Franckens, and their followers ; but 
 they had not enough of Flanders in them to make them true Flem- 
 ish art, nor enough of Italy to make them good Italian art. By 
 itself considered the product was an odd negation ; but in its effect 
 upon the later art of Flanders its influence was very great. It 
 taught the value of Italian technic to subsequent generations, who 
 were destined to make the union of the two elements complete and 
 perfect. 
 
 With Rubens and his contemporaries of the seventeenth cen- 
 tury the Italian method became better understood, better digested, 
 better judged. There was a modification, an adaptation of the 
 
A NOTE ON FLEMISH ART 1 57 
 
 material borrowed, and an expansion, an amplification of home 
 ideas. The work of Rubens i s typical of the harmony of the ele- 
 ments. It shows the full-blown flower of Flemish art — a flower 
 growing on Flemish soil, unique, and perfect of its kind, and yet a 
 hybrid growth, a cross with Ital)-. The point of v iew, the spirit, 
 the_sentime nt. the feeling, are northern . Even the form, the type, 
 the color, the technic, seem native to the Scheldt ; but they were 
 based on methods taught in the lagunes of Venice and on the banks 
 of the Arno. Yet the absorption of these methods was quite per- 
 fect. One can hardly place his finger on a feature in Rubens's work, 
 and determine with certainty whence he got it. The whole teach- 
 ing of the Italian school had been filtered through his individuality; 
 it had been recombined, recast, recreated, and then put forth in such 
 a manner that it was impossible to tell where one element left off 
 and another began. The genius of assimilation and recombina- 
 tion, so strikingly exemplified in Raphael, spoke again through Ru- 
 bens. He it was who not only elevated the Flemish conception, 
 but so rejuvenated the Italian technic that it virtually became his 
 own, and was handed down to his pupils and followers as a distin- 
 guishing mark of Flemish art. 
 
 HI 
 
 It has been said that the Church was the most considerable pa- 
 tron of art in Flanders, and that the altar-piece and wall-panel 
 established the character of Flemish painting; but this should not 
 be understood to mean that other forms of art were neelected. The 
 portrait had been from the time of the Van Eycks a desideratum, 
 and never at any time thereafter ceased to be painted. It was the 
 one kind of painting that kept alive the native art traditions of 
 Flanders. With this there was also a painting of landscape and 
 genre somewhat after the style of the Dutch painters. Bril, the 
 Breughels, Brouwer, and Teniers were its most notable represen- 
 tatives. But all this kind of art was inconsequential as compared 
 with the figure painting of panels and altar-pieces. The ostensible 
 aim of the church art was, of course, to tell Bible story, to teach 
 church tradition, to move to repentance by the examples of suffer- 
 ing saint and Christian martyr ; but its real aim, from the painter's 
 view-point, was to provide handsome decoration. The religious 
 sentiment and pietistic feeling of early Italian art were no more 
 
158 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 apparent in the Flemish painting of Rubens than in the Venetian 
 painting of Paolo Veronese. The subject was only an excuse for 
 the portrayal of beauties of form and color that would hold together 
 well at a distance. In spirit, the whole work was far removed from 
 the pietistic and the emotional. It was worldly, sensuous, splendid. 
 For carrying power the Flemish type, large in bone and muscle, a 
 trifle gross in fleshy development, was used with some exaggeration. 
 The ruddiness of flesh notes, the brilliancy and sheen of silks, satins, 
 armor, jewels, the splendors of architecture and arabesque, were all 
 employed for gorgeousness of color and to heighten the general 
 richness of effect. The Italian composition was freely adopted, to 
 solidify in one piece the different groups, to give dramatic move- 
 ment, and varied life. The light was likewise Italian — that is, con- 
 ventional, originating in the figure rather than in the sky. The 
 shadows were rather fragile, rarely insisted upon for mystery, never 
 used in large masses as in Holland, and usually employed only for 
 relief in modeling. The brush-work was remarkably facile, thin 
 over the shadows, loaded in the lights, rarely thumbed or dragged, 
 usually limpid and flowing. 
 
 When the painter put aside the altar-piece and the religious 
 subject to do things of a mythological, allegorical, or historical na- 
 ture, he did not change either his mood or his treatment. He 
 painted with a sumptuous palette whatever subject came to hand. 
 The Medici pictures by Rubens, in the Louvre, were not conceived 
 or executed differently from his altar-pieces. They were wall deco- 
 rations, and were made to flame with brilliant lights and colors re- 
 flected from gorgeous silks and glowing flesh. The decorative 
 sense was always uppermost, without by any means reducing the 
 work to a mere matter of sensuous form and color. There were 
 ideas enough and to spare in the Flemish school ; but they made 
 themselves manifest less in the pietistic or literary treatment of the 
 subject than in the work of art as art. The Flemings were picture- 
 makers, like the Dutch ; but on a grander and more ornamental 
 scale. True to nature they were, but truer by far to art. A por- 
 trait by Van Dyck is true, but hardly so realistic as a portrait by 
 Hals ; a nude female figure by Rubens is, again, true, but it does 
 not give so much of the actual presence as a figure by Rembrandt. 
 The laws of picture-making, the established methods of producing 
 grace, rhythm, subordination, unity, are more apparent in the Flem- 
 ish work. Undoubtedly this was the result of Italian training; yet 
 
A NOTE ON FLEMISH ART I59 
 
 it should not be set down as a vice of the school. The reality of 
 nature and the truth of its representation are two different things. 
 Art cannot give the first ; and in giving the second, it is governed 
 by laws that vary in proportion to the purpose and the size of the 
 canvas. The small, realistic handling of line, light, color, texture, 
 that might be used appropriately in a panel by Metsu, would appear 
 absurdly insufficient in a large "Triumph of Silenos " by Jordaens. 
 The larger the canvas, the more dependent it is upon the artifices 
 of art. 
 
 It might be thought that in working thus by rule, originality and 
 invention would be cramped or stifled ; but such was not the case 
 in either Italy or Flanders. What wealth of ideas, what marvels of 
 invention, what variety of technic, the Flemings developed under 
 rule may be seen exemplified in the works of Rubens. A whole 
 century of painters slaved that Rubens might triumph. He was 
 the master of the school, raised above his contemporaries by com- 
 manding genius ; and often we are disposed to regard his brilliant 
 presence at the expense of his supporters who made his elevation 
 possible. It should not be forgotten that a little way below him in 
 the scale stood the Marlowes, the Massingers, the Ben Jonsons of 
 art, whose lights were brilliant considered by themselves, and were 
 dim only by comparison with the splendor of this new Shakspere 
 of the brush. We should remember, also, that the master was the 
 complete expression, not of himself alone, but of his school, his race, 
 his age, his country. The pictorial genius of the Flemish people 
 made Rubens its mouthpiece ; but every painter in the land helped 
 to form the thoughts he rounded, and the eloquence of the winged 
 words he spoke. The triumph of the man was also the triumph of 
 the school and of the whole Flemish people. 
 
PETER PAUL RUBENS 
 
Chapter XVIII 
 
 PETER PAUL RUBENS 
 
 (1577-1640) 
 
 IT is not often that nature in her economy endows any one man 
 with an undue proportion of gifts. The fairies who come 
 showering blessings over the cradle are followed by the un- 
 bidden elf of compensation, who mixes in an evil to qualify every 
 good. It is rare, indeed, that there is escape from the evil presence; 
 yet here and there in the world's history we find a man whose cra- 
 dle, by some lucky chance, seems to have been passed over un- 
 touched. Such a man was Rubens. About all that nature or man 
 had to give was his. He was well born, well bred, well equipped. 
 Physically, mentally, socially, he was the nearly perfect man. Educa- 
 tion trained him, wealth supplied him, every one courted him, ge- 
 nius crowned him. His personal bearing fitted him as the associate 
 of the most noble ; his mental gifts made him the peer of the most 
 lofty ; his creative energy made him the equal of the most active. 
 Honor, rank, fame, happiness were bestowed upon him. In addi- 
 tion, he was favored by coming to power early, and by passing away 
 while that power was at its height. He never knew decay. The 
 light was suddenly extinguished when its flame was at its brightest, 
 and the European world was acclaiming its splendor. All told, the 
 life was as well-rounded and complete as any in human biography. 
 Looking back at it to-day, it seems to us a model of sound thinking, 
 forceful action, brilliant living, and proper dying. 
 
 The well-proportioned character of Rubens, like a Greek profile, 
 is difficult to epitomize, since there is no protruding feature about 
 it. The striking quality of it is not symmetry or outline, but radi- 
 ance. The splendor of the man is bewildering, dazzling, overpow- 
 
 i6j 
 
164 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 ering. It seems peculiar to himself, and yet it was, in measure, the 
 result of the age and the circumstances out of which he grew. It 
 will be remembered that he came at the beginning of the baroque 
 seventeenth century. It was a time of exaggerated display in all 
 phases of life ; and Flanders, like Italy, was feeling the influence of 
 the Counter- Reformation. The Church was putting forth all the 
 allurements of ceremony, embellishment, and processional pomp, to 
 make religion attractive. It will be remembered that Rubens was 
 a son of the Church, though his father had Protestant leanings ; and 
 that his elementary education was given by Jesuit teachers at Ant- 
 werp. At twelve he was a student of painting under Verhaeght, 
 whose influence upon him was apparently slight. He afterward 
 studied with Van Noort and Van Veen, spending in all about ten 
 years of apprenticeship in Antwerp studios. His last two masters 
 helped in the formation of his thought as well as his technic. Van 
 Noort was thoroughly Flemish, and quite original, in coarse, strong 
 types, brilliant colors, and flashy lights. He was of the soil, with a 
 stubborn individuality and a Flemish assertiveness that undoubtedly 
 left a trace upon Rubens, for we feel these qualities in the pupil. 
 The last four years of his apprenticeship were spent under Van 
 Veen, who was almost the opposite of Van Noort. The Flemish 
 spirit in him was subservient to Italian culture. He had been a 
 student in Italy, and had learned there Italian composition, with 
 such qualities as moderation, selection, delicacy. The teachings 
 that the two different masters stood for were united, amalgamated, 
 blended in Rubens. The spirit of his art was based in Flemish na- 
 ture, it was inspired by Flemish feeling, it revealed the Flemish 
 point of view, and it was emblematic of the Flemish national life in 
 the seventeenth century; but its structural parts — its composition, 
 light, color, and brilliant ornament — were brought up from Italy. 
 
 At twenty-three, Rubens went to Italy to study the art of that 
 country at first hand. What his work was before this time we have 
 slight means of ascertaining ; but after the Italian experience, his 
 pictures speak the influences that finally molded his style. We 
 do not know what schools or masters in Italy he liked the best, or 
 what features he assimilated, save from his pictures ; and even in 
 these his borrowings are so fused and transmuted by his own con- 
 ceptions that they are but faintly recognizable. He must have liked 
 Tintoretto's invention and his dramatic action, for he gives us remi- 
 niscences of them occasionally ; and Paolo Veronese doubtless ap- 
 
"HELEN FOURiMEiNT AM) HKR CHILDREN," BV RUUENS. 
 
 I.OUVKE, r.MJIS. 
 
PETER PAUL RUBENS 165 
 
 pealed to him in color schemes and ornamental accessories. At 
 Mantua, where Rubens stopped for several years, Giulio Romano's 
 giant figures in the old palace must have been studied ; for some 
 of their exaggeration shows in the Flemish painter. Raphael and 
 Michael Angelo left no perceptible trace upon him ; but a follower 
 of Correggio, Baroccio, evidently influenced him greatly in color 
 (particularly flesh color) and in facile handling. During his Italian 
 sojourn, he went once to Spain, and, some time alter his return to 
 Antwerp, in 1608, he made trips to France, Spain, and England; 
 but no painter in those lands, not even Velasquez, seems to have 
 attracted him in any way. In 1608 his style was established. He 
 was himself; and though he never ceased to develop and expand 
 during his life, there was no further change. 
 
 Such an education upon a man of genius could have but one ef- 
 fect. Where his predecessors of weaker mind were confused by the 
 ramifications of Italian art, Rubens saw clearly ; where they fell into 
 a rigid imitation of first one man and then another, Rubens stood 
 up and asserted his own view ; where they lost the little individu- 
 ality they possessed, Rubens held fast to his own, but gained valu- 
 able lessons from the doings of others. He learned how to voice 
 Flemish thought in graceful language. It was all that he required ; 
 for in isictorial conceptions his brain was always teeming, and he 
 had no need to visit Italy for ideas. When he returned to Antwerp 
 his ability was already known ; the Church and the court were 
 ready for him with countless orders for altar-pieces and decorative 
 panels ; and he at once took the commanding place at the head of 
 the Flemish school. For thirty years he held this place, and then 
 died full of honors, leaving no great successor. He still stands in 
 history to-day the one great master of the Flemish school. 
 
 It cannot be thought that any painter for the Church in the sev- 
 enteenth century, no matter what his genius, could be quite so soul- 
 ful, or full of earnest piety, or so simple in faith and character, as 
 one in the fifteenth century. The Renaissance had passed with the 
 Reformation, and simplicity had been succeeded by the affectation 
 and the factitious splendor of the Catholic Reaction. The religious 
 subject under the late Venetians had run into gorgeous pageantry 
 in which religious sentiment was not attempted; under the Man- 
 nerists and the Eclectics, canvases expanded, compositions were 
 crowded, colors were heightened, ornament overran all, but again 
 the religious sentiment was lacking. This affected Flanders ; 
 
l66 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 it affected Rubens. It was the spirit of the time, and Rubens 
 could neither avoid it nor change it. x*\ll he could do was to paint 
 it ; and that he did. Hence we should not be disappointed to find 
 his great Church canvases lacking in spiritual significance. The 
 pietistic painter was dead; the ornate decorator lived in his place. 
 Space had to be filled brilliantly, and the subject chosen or given 
 did not influence the painter's palette. The " Road to Calvary," 
 the " Elevation of the Cross," the " Crucifixion," the " Descent," 
 were just as gorgeous in coloring as the "Adoration," the "Mirac- 
 ulous Draught," the " Marriage in Cana." The sentiment of the 
 subject was not complemented by the coloring. Life or death, plea- 
 sure or pain, shame or glory, were, in the hands of Rubens, triumphs 
 of decorative splendor. A flower-like radiance was omnipresent ; 
 and at times this became glittering, flamboyant, bizarre. The 
 painter's disposition was one of great calmness, but the taste of the 
 age kept pushing him to the verge of the extravagant. Through 
 haste he occasionally fell into the theatrical in his great contorted 
 groups, or he was obscure in his literary allegories, or, again, he 
 was tinsel-like in color or texture. He had an optimistic Shak- 
 sperian mind full of exact knowledge, almost exhaustless in resource, 
 bubbling over with imagination, reflective of sublimity, grandeur, 
 and power ; yet when strained to its utmost it flagged, grew weary, 
 and caught at the grandiloquent rather than the grand. He had a 
 hand supremely skilled that could realize the truth of anything upon 
 which it was set to work, one of the most adroit and facile hands in 
 all art history ; yet sometimes that, too, grew weary, and ran to 
 volubility and ineffectual bombast. It could not be otherwise. No 
 human being could produce the upwards of two thousand canvases 
 he has left us, without showing inequality in the results. The mar- 
 vel is, and always will be, how he did so much, and did it so well. 
 For he painted all subjects for all peoples — altar-pieces and 
 ceilings to please the Church, allegories to please the court, por- 
 traits to please the individual, landscapes, animals, still-life to please 
 himself In each of these he was Rubens, the master-painter, the 
 man who knew how to bend everything to his genius for splendor. 
 His imagination often rose to great heights, his sentiment in mat- 
 ters artistic, such as color, was often deep, his feeling as a painter 
 was remarkable at times in its tenderness ; but these, again, gave 
 way before his habitual mood of mind, that conceived life in majes- 
 tic, Olympian proportions, and hued it with a rainbow glory. It 
 
PETER PAUL RUBENS 167 
 
 mattered little whether he painted the religious, the historical, or 
 the allegorical. His subjects, as we study them to-day, seem of 
 slight importance ; we are spell-bound and made captives by his 
 great wealth of material, his prodigality of splendor. The large 
 canvas was his preference, and he did not hesitate to say that he 
 thought it best fitted to his talent. It gave him opportunity to ring 
 the whole color-gamut into one magnificent harmony. His smaller 
 easel-pictures were less effective, because more subdued. The por- 
 trait gave even less opportunity for display, and he seems to have 
 cared not too much about it ; notwithstanding his work in this de- 
 partment may justly rank with that of Titian and Velasquez. Ani- 
 mals, especially the horse and the dog, he pictured with a love for 
 their truth of character ; and even where he introduced them in 
 large decorative canvases, they were painted with exceptional care. 
 His landscapes were again the output of a clear eye and a sure 
 hand, sincere in spirit, noble in conception, strong in substance — 
 things done evidently for his own pleasure. Whatever subject he 
 touched made response to his genius; but a man of his colossal 
 mind could appear at his best only in the vast composition and the 
 resplendent color-scheme. They were as much of a necessity to 
 him as the single figure was to Rembrandt. 
 
 The type of the human form that Rubens employed was neither 
 Greek nor Italian. It was derived from Flanders, but enlarged and 
 ennobled to Titanic proportions, that it might be in keeping with 
 the size and carrying power of his compositions. At times, it was 
 gross in bone, muscle, and flesh, heavy in weight, bulky in mass ; 
 but not ungraceful in line, nor unreal in character. In the drawing 
 of it he was often faulty, or, at the least, the fault is laid at his door, 
 though it is reasonable to believe that it belonged to his pupils. It 
 is well known that Rubens sketched his larger works, but that his 
 pupils enlarged them from the sketches, carried them to a certain 
 point, and then the master applied the finishing touches. One is 
 loath to believe that Rubens could do anything amiss, though he 
 might palliate or overlook an error in a pupil. Certainly the works 
 that seem done entirely by his hand leave nothing to be desired 
 in the matter of drawing. The composition was always the mas- 
 ter's own, and in it we meet with wonderful fertility and inventive 
 power. A new arrangement seems apparent in each new picture. 
 He did not hold to any one formula. All the design of Italy he 
 seemed to know, and he turned it to profit without copying or imi- 
 
l68 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 tating. The " Descent from the Cross " has long been declared to 
 be a derivation from Volterra's picture, and Rubens freely acknow- 
 ledged it ; but this was about his only palpable appropriation. 
 Whether or not he studied Signorelli at Orvieto is not known ; but 
 he certainly must have seen the Tintorettos at S. Madonna dell' 
 Orto, and elsewhere in Venice, for he used Tintoretto's diagonal 
 composition in the "Fall of the Damned," the "Elevation of the 
 Cross," the " Road to Calvary," and in other pictures. Moreover, 
 there is a dramatic action about Rubens's pictures, a fling, and 
 surge, and tumult of figures, that remind us again of Tintoretto in 
 San Rocco, and Giulio Romano at Mantua. When painting calmer 
 pictures, Paolo Veronese seems to have given him an idea of dig- 
 nified grouping and appropriate balances. These were, however, 
 only influences. He had invention enough of his own ; and the 
 majority of his canvases are of his individual construction. It is 
 impossible to think of any one but Rubens conceiving them or 
 putting them together. 
 
 In illumination he followed the ordinary method of lighting the 
 large canvas — that is, not by light from the sky, but from the picture 
 itself This lighting enabled him to keep a whole vast canvas in a 
 gay, brilliant key, which was precisely what he desired. Shadow 
 he used mainly as a means of modeling and relieving figures, one 
 against another. The mystery of half-hidden notes, as exemplified 
 by the Dutch, was something for which he did not strive. There 
 is no mystery in his work. He gained depth of shadow by thin, 
 transparent glazes over a white ground. All his darks were thinly 
 laid, that he might gain light from the background by transmission ; 
 whereas his lights were the reverse of this. He loaded with opaque 
 pigments like white, and won his high lights by reflection. This 
 was a simple enough process ; and Rubens was simple in his means, 
 notwithstanding his results look complex in their variety. The 
 word simplicity applies even to his color, ornate as it appears. It 
 has no great subtlety or shrewdness about it. His harmonies were 
 attained by using colors pleasing in themselves, and by keeping 
 them in perfect tone. In this he was not confused by shadow masses. 
 He struck a high pitch and held to it throughout the whole picture, 
 placing primary colors in such elementary appositions that we often 
 wonder at the result obtained with such means. He doubtless un- 
 derstood complementary colors and the effect of optical mixture, for 
 he relied upon them at times ; but his usual method was a more 
 
TH1-: "CHAPEAU DK FAILLE," CY RUBENS. 
 
 NATIONAL t.ALLEKV. LONDON. 
 
PETER PAUL RUBENS 1 69 
 
 direct adjustment, with dependence upon contrast or accord. The 
 intense brilHancy of his colors was a forceful adjunct of his art, for 
 it gave sharp resonance to the whole. His flesh-color, alone, baf- 
 fled every one of his pupils and imitators ; and his pictures may be 
 told from those of his workshop by this one feature. His golds and 
 yellows are superb in their light, used as a relief to the carmines of 
 the faces ; and the reds of his draperies and costumes are astonish- 
 ing in their depth and radiance. The Medici pictures in the Louvre 
 are just now considered fair game for adverse criticism, because it 
 is thought they were painted almost wholly by Rubens's pupils. 
 Some of them undoubtedly were, but some of them were not. The 
 " Coronation of Marie de Medici," especially the group of the queen 
 and her maids of honor, is worthy of any master of any age; and 
 for richness of color there is nothing better in art than the " Birth 
 of Louis XIIL" Let the visitor take the golds and reds in the last- 
 named picture, or the red in the small-clothes of the Dauphin in the 
 picture hanging to the right of it, the " Henry IV. Confiding the 
 Government to the Queen," and try to find their equal in any other 
 picture by any other master, ancient or modern, in the Louvre : and 
 some idea of Rubens's great excellence in color quality will be at- 
 tained. Color was his supreme feature, and his prodigal use of it 
 only intensifies the feeling of his complete mastery over it. Flesh- 
 color, for example, is usually regarded by painters as something 
 precious — something to be set off and made to shine by surround- 
 ing costume. Rubens was about the only painter so full-handed in 
 means that he could afford to place flesh against flesh. He seemed 
 at times recklessly extravagant, a man throwing away opportune 
 effects, but his wealth of resource was so great that he lavished 
 freely and yet never seemed to want. 
 
 The impression that we first gain from the work of Rubens is 
 that the painter was headlong, impulsive, furious, passionate — 
 something like a union of Tintoretto and Frans Hals — but nothincr 
 could be more erroneous. There never was a painter who made 
 impulse so subservient to principle. He was the deliberate artist 
 in every movement, and could simulate a passion or extemporize a 
 fury without, apparently, a particle of either in himself The fire 
 and fury of his subject never disturbed the temperance of his exe- 
 cution. Everything was coolly calculated in his arrangement, his 
 drawing, his coloring. He did nothing by mood, nothing by dash, 
 nothing by accident. He knew what was to be done beforehand. 
 
170 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 and he did it with the greatest ease and calmness, as though it were 
 merely a juggler's trick. Perhaps no one feature so leads the young 
 student astray as the brush-work of Rubens. Here, he thinks, is 
 the improviser, the man who strikes at white heat, the painter who 
 dashes forward with impetuous freedom. His work, at first, cer- 
 tainly looks to be unpremeditated ; but a closer study shows delib- 
 eration and calculation again. The long sweep is deceptive ; its 
 appearance of spontaneity is the result of training. Rubens knew 
 pigments and brushes by heart. His hand was so thoroughly 
 trained that he could almost model, draw, light, and color with a 
 single stroke. It was not quick-flashing genius that told him how 
 to act ; it was years of experience. He thought out everything in 
 his sketch ; then, when his pupils had brought the enlarged work 
 almost to completion, the master came in to give the finish. His 
 whole power was thrown on the manipulation of the brush. And 
 that power was something phenomenal. He did not load, or stip- 
 ple, or model in little hillocks of paint ; he allowed his brush to slip 
 thinly, smoothly, flowingly. The only places where he permitted 
 the pigment to thicken or drag were over the high lights. This 
 smoothness in Rubens has often been held up by modern lovers of 
 paint for paint's sake as a sign of weakness, a want of solidity ; but 
 if it be considered that Rubens wished to preserve freshness and 
 brilliancy in his colors, and that the real power of his art lay in 
 color splendor, the wisdom of his method will not be questioned. 
 There was no weakness in the man's art, least of all in his brush- 
 work. There never was a more graceful, facile, powerful touch 
 than his ; and in this respect alone the world will see another Ve- 
 lasquez and another Hals before it will see another Rubens. 
 
 The pictures of Rubens present no marked changes in style cor- 
 responding to periods of mental development. His clear intellectu- 
 ality early discovered the right pathway for his genius to travel, 
 and his whole life was a development along that pathway. As he 
 grew more mature, he became more eloquent in technic, more delib- 
 erate in animated themes ; but there was no decided change, and 
 never a sign of decline or decay. His work is far from being all 
 of an equal quality. That is due to the fact that Rubens maintained 
 a studio of such proportions that it might not unjustly be called a 
 picture factory. He had many pupils, and more orders than he 
 could supply. Like Raphael, he probably often contented himself 
 with designing, leaving his pupils to execute. Of the hundreds of 
 
PETER PAUL RUBENS 
 
 171 
 
 pictures passing under his name, many are by his own hand, many 
 are the products of his workshop, some are retouched by him, some 
 are entirely by pupils, and some are repainted beyond all recogni- 
 tion. If we study him in the works wholly of his own painting we 
 shall find him a thinker of great intellectuality, great imagination, 
 great versatility ; an artist of prodigious capacity and knowledge ; a 
 colorist of vast range, sensitiveness, and brilliancy; a brushman of 
 consummate culture and infinite power. His pictures seem to con- 
 tain all that is pictorial in the artistic mind, and all that is skilful in 
 the painter's craft. If, however, it were possible to pronounce the 
 secret of their power over us in one word, that word would be 
 "splendor." It seems to be the only word that fittingly describes 
 the life of the man and the art of the painter. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 PETER PAUL RUBENS was bom 
 on the 29th of June, 1577 — the fes- 
 tival of SS. Peter and Paul — at the little 
 town of Siegen, in Westphalia, to which 
 place his father, John Rubens — a magis- 
 trate of Antwerp — had been relegated in 
 consequence of an offense he had com- 
 mitted against the Prince of Orange. 
 When young Rubens was a year old his 
 parents removed to Cologne, where they 
 remained for nine years, and where his 
 father died. His mother then returned 
 with her son to Antwerp, where she at- 
 tended carefully to his education. He 
 became versed in the classics and in Lat- 
 in, and besides his mother-tongue he spoke 
 French, German, English, Italian, and 
 Spanish. His mother intended him for 
 the law, but as he evinced an early pas- 
 sion for art he was suffered to pursue that 
 course. It is known that he had three 
 instructors in art — that he began his stud- 
 ies under Tobias Verhaegt, a well-known 
 landscape painter, continuing them with 
 Adam van Noort for the space of four 
 years, and ending them with Otto van 
 Veen (Otho Voenius). 
 
 At twenty-three he departed for Italy, to 
 study the great masters. In the service of 
 Duke Vincenzo Gonzago of Mantua, an 
 enthusiastic patron of the fine arts, he vis- 
 ited Venice, Florence, Rome, and Genoa, 
 copying important works. The Duke, dis- 
 covering the variety and richness of his 
 talents and having an eye to the beauty 
 of his person and the elegance of his man- 
 ners, sent him on a diplomatic mission to 
 the court of Spain. At Spain he met Ve- 
 lasquez, with whom he continued a cor- 
 respondence of letters. He remained 
 eight years in Italy, being summoned 
 hastily to Antwerp by the illness of his 
 mother, who died before he reached home. 
 
 Here he was induced to remain by the 
 Archduke Albert, who appointed him his 
 court painter. He founded a school at 
 Antwerp which became crowded with pu- 
 pils, his most famous scholars being Van 
 Dyck,Jordaens,Snyders,Diepenbeck,Van 
 Thulden,Zegers,and Quellinus. This was 
 in 1609, and he was thirty-two years old. 
 His fame became such that his works 
 and his society were contended for by 
 princes and monarchs. He married his 
 
172 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 first wife, Isabella Brandt, in 16 10, and 
 built himself a magnificent house, paint- 
 ing it within and without. The Duke of 
 Buckingham saw and coveted it. Rubens 
 sold it to the Duke for ten times its orig- 
 inal cost. At Antwerp Rubens led an un- 
 commonly active life. As he himself 
 assures us, while in the service of the Re- 
 gent Albrecht and his consort Isabella, he 
 had one foot always in the stirrup, making 
 repeated trips to London, Paris, and Ma- 
 drid, and devoting as much of his time to 
 politics as to art. He performed impor- 
 tant services as ambassador to Spain and 
 England. Marie de Medici, Queen of 
 France, invited him to her court, and he 
 celebrated her life in a series of great 
 works now to be seen in the Louvre at 
 Paris. Rubens was knighted by Philip 
 IV. of Spain and by Charles I. of Eng- 
 land, who, in addition to other favors, gave 
 him his own sword and a gold chain, 
 which the painter wore ever afterward. 
 In 1 630, after the death of his first wife, he 
 married one of the richest and most beau- 
 tiful girls in all Flanders — Helen Four- 
 ment, then only sixteen years of age. In 
 1632, pending negotiations between Bel- 
 gium and Holland, Rubens was in the 
 latter country, and visited the workshops 
 of many of its most famous painters. It 
 is matter of astonishment, as Vosmaer 
 says, that there exists no trace of any 
 relations between him and Rembrandt, 
 who was then famous, having painted 
 his "Anatomical Lesson," and many other 
 important works. And it is also singular 
 that in the inventory of Rubens's works 
 after his death, among his many pictures of 
 various schools, the name of Rembrandt 
 is conspicuously absent. Notsowith Rem- 
 brandt, however, who possessed many 
 engravings after Rubens's works, choice 
 impressions before the lettering. Rubens 
 died in 1 640, possessed of immense wealth, 
 after a career marked by all the distinc- 
 tions that fame and universal admiration 
 could bestow,accorded to him in the triple 
 character of painter, diplomatist, and man. 
 
 He was buried with extraordinary pomp 
 in the church of St. Jacques, at Antwerp, 
 where over his tomb is placed one of his 
 most charming works — a picture of St. 
 George; a work wholly formed, as tra- 
 dition says, of the portraits of members 
 of his family. Side by side in it are his 
 two wives, then his daughters, his niece, 
 the celebrated girl of the " Chapeau de 
 Paille," his father, his grandfather, and 
 finally his younger son, under the features 
 of an angel, certainly one of the most 
 adorable children he ever painted. Ru- 
 bens himself figures there as St. George 
 in shining armor, holding in his hand the 
 banner of St. George. 
 
 Rubens was an almost universal genius 
 in his art, and has left a vast number of 
 canvases dealing with every kind of sub- 
 ject. He painted pictures sacred and 
 secular, studies of animals and men, por- 
 traits of men and women, charming pieces 
 treating wholly of children, grand histor- 
 ical and mythological works, and fine 
 landscapes. His works are scattered all 
 over Europe, but possibly the best idea 
 of his range and versatility is conveyed 
 by the collection in the gallery of the Pina- 
 kothek, at Munich, where there are many 
 examples of him. In his time, over 1200 
 engravings were made from his pictures. 
 The " Descent from the Cross," in the 
 Cathedral of Antwerp, is generally con- 
 ceded to be his masterpiece. This, with 
 the " Elevation of the Cross " in the same 
 cathedral, are two magnificent examples 
 of the genius of the painter that must be 
 seen before one can obtain a judicious 
 estimate of his powers. If we are accus- 
 tomed, from the numerous historical and 
 mythological works of Rubens scattered 
 all over Europe, to regard him in the light 
 of a boisterous deity, of tremendous dash 
 and fire, in the cool precincts of the Ant- 
 werp Cathedral we obtain an opposite 
 view of his character and behold him wise, 
 religious, and restrained. These works 
 were painted shortly after his arrival in 
 Italy, and while he was yet imbued with 
 
TCi^u uruscsi; rcb.js$i 
 
 "PORTRAIT OF JACOUELINK I)E CORDES," liV RTBEXS. 
 
 BRUSSELS MUSEUM. 
 
PETER PAUL RUBENS 
 
 173 
 
 the Italian spirit. The " Descent from 
 the Cross " is a touching and impressive 
 work, profound and tender in sentiment. 
 The Saviour is being lowered from the 
 cross into the arms of loving friends, by 
 means of a winding-sheet. The value of 
 the naked body against the sheet, and 
 this in full light and relieved against a 
 dark sky, is one of the most striking and 
 effective things in art. The draperies of 
 the others, in their rich and varied color- 
 ing, are all subdued to the faintest note, 
 so that the faces come out with wonder- 
 ful relief, and the eye naturally dwells upon 
 the various emotions depicted in each, 
 from the weeping countenance of the Vir- 
 gin, pale as the body of her son, to the 
 visage of the dead Lord calm in the repose 
 of death, and finally to the lovely features 
 of the Magdalene, whose bloom of health 
 and youth, emphasizing the pallor of 
 death, is the culminating note of color in 
 the whole. 
 
 I could not understand why the best 
 photographs and engravings I had seen 
 of this work should all be so hard and 
 ill-drawn, and so utterly void of the ten- 
 der values and the floating atmospheric 
 quality of the original, but the reason was 
 evident enough when in the museum of 
 Antwerp I saw what purports to be an 
 original sketch by Rubens for the great 
 work, and was informed by the custodian 
 that all the photographs and engravings 
 are executed from this poor thing, which 
 bears the unequivocal marks of a copy, 
 and a laborious and heavy copy at that. 
 But being a bright and hard thing, it pho- 
 tographs and engraves well, and makes 
 an attractive and marketable object for 
 a shop-window. 
 
 The sketches in oil by Rubens are the 
 most delightful things imaginable ; being 
 executed in thin glazings, or frotted in 
 upon some warm ground, they have an 
 airy and dreamily suggestive character ; 
 or else, if painted more solidly, they have 
 a light and spirited touch and are charged 
 with energy of character, as in his mar- 
 
 velous study of some negroes' heads to be 
 seen in the Museum at Brussels. 
 
 An admirable example of his first stage 
 of procedure in the painting of a picture 
 is the sketch of the portrait of his second 
 wife — Helen Fourment — with her two 
 children, to be seen in the Louvre. The 
 heads are the most finished portions. How 
 charming in sentiment it is ! The young 
 mother, not more than twenty — for she 
 was married at sixteen — is dreaming in 
 bliss over her first son. The boy evidently 
 is the occasion of the picture, which gives 
 expression to the old feeling which exists 
 among parents to the present day in Ger- 
 many and Flanders, of doting upon the 
 boy, but relegating the girl to the back- 
 ground of their regard. I like the natural 
 innocence and unconsciousness of this 
 little girl, coming in upon the scene with 
 her apron filled possibly with flowers, as 
 opposed to the decidedly conscious air 
 of the boy, who already seems aware of 
 the superior estimation in which he is 
 regarded. He holds a dove by a silken 
 cord in one hand and a perch in the other. 
 This little fellow, of whom Rubens painted 
 other portraits, in time succeeded his father 
 as secretary of the State of Flanders. His 
 name was Albert Rubens. 
 
 The portrait known as the " Chapeau 
 de Faille," in the National Gallery of 
 London, is that of a young lady in a black 
 bodice with red sleeves, and a black Span- 
 ish beaver or felt hat. It is life size. How 
 it came to be called the " Chapeau de 
 Faille," is not known, since it does not re- 
 semble a straw hat. It is supposed that 
 its present title is a corruption of chapeau 
 iVEspague, or chapeau de poil. The por- 
 trait is said to be that of Mile, de Lunden, 
 whom Rubens was once upon the point 
 of marrying. The blending of a strong 
 reflected light with a direct hght gives a 
 pleasing transparent illumination to the 
 features, which are powerfully offset by 
 the black hat and dress. Nothing could 
 be more strikingly effective. 
 
 The portrait of the wife of Cordes, in 
 
174 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 the Museum of Brussels, is another life- 
 size bust. Though of a more serious or- 
 der, it is none the less effective as a pic- 
 ture. What could be more stylish and 
 telling than this black satin dress illu- 
 minated by cream-colored puffs and sur- 
 
 mounted by a splendid display of lace 
 and glittering jewelry against a gray back- 
 ground? This sumptuous display and 
 love of sensuous beauty are never want- 
 ing in the works of Rubens. 
 
 T. C. 
 
ANTHONY VAN DYCK 
 
Chapter XIX 
 
 ANTHONY VAN DYCK 
 
 (1599-1641) 
 
 FROMENTiN, to whom wc are all indebted for his excellent ap- 
 preciations of the Dutch and Flemish masters, describes 
 Van Dyck at the end of his career as one feted, courted, 
 ennobled, talented, luxurious, charming, dissipated, reckless, — "a 
 Prince of Wales dying upon his accession to the throne who was 
 by no means fitted to reign." The description is worth quoting to 
 emphasize what Fromentin intimates, but does not directly say — 
 namely, that Van Dyck never was a king in art. Rubens, Titian, 
 Velasquez wore the purple and the crown ; but Van Dyck, though 
 of royal race, a prince of the blood and standing near the throne, 
 never came to occupy it. This was not because he died at forty- 
 two (Raphael and Giorgione died younger) but because he was not 
 "fitted to reign." He had not the genius or the originality that 
 should entitle him to the supreme place. He held high rank 
 surely ; but not the highest rank. 
 
 What Van Dyck would have been without Rubens for a master, 
 is an unprofitable query often propounded. Suffice it to say that 
 he was the best and most favored pupil of Rubens, and followed 
 him as closely as he could ; not by servilely imitating him, but by 
 deriving from him type, style, inspiration, and mental stimulus. 
 His artistic education in Flanders was of the best, his travel and 
 study in Italy were like that of his master and productive of similar 
 results, while his worldly success was again quite of a piece with 
 that of his great predecessor. With similar tastes and views, he 
 was a younger and a weaker brother of Rubens without by any 
 means being a weak man. Nature never originally gave him the 
 =3 
 
lyS OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 elder's creative power, his versatility, his great range, his superb 
 strength. The blood and bones, the robust life and energy, the 
 brilliant color and technical grasp of the master vi^ere transmitted 
 to the pupil in semblance more than in substance. One is made to 
 feel in Van Dyck something of Rubens ; but Rubens slightly atten- 
 uated, lacking in body, wanting in scope. Nature, however, com- 
 pensated the pupil, in measure, by giving him more than his master 
 of sensitiveness, distinction, and charm. Coming nearly twenty 
 years after, he was enabled to refine the Rubens type, modify vio- 
 lent action in groups, and bring deeper meaning to the human face 
 through delicacy of modeling and clearness in outline. Rubens was 
 the first to throw out the perfected Flemish idea, and he did it with 
 youthful vigor ; Van Dyck came after, to refine and ennoble it as 
 reofards the human countenance at least. That in doing- so he often 
 paid heed to fashionable caprice and painted nobility to look more 
 noble than it really was, that he flattered his sitters, and often gew- 
 gawed his art to make it attractive to the mob, only proves that he 
 caught from his master the passion for high living and worldly suc- 
 cess, and consequently sacrificed art at times to picture-making. 
 Rubens's picture factory at Antwerp was not the best training- 
 school for the painter who would live for art alone. 
 
 Van Dyck was remarkable, even among painters, for his early 
 development. At ten he was a student of art ; at nineteen he was 
 a graduate, having been elected a member of St. Luke's Guild, at 
 Antwerp. He was still, however, under Rubens's guidance, and 
 by his advice he set out for Italy at twenty-three to complete his 
 education by studying the great masters, as was the wont of the 
 time. The Venetian influence made its appearance in his art al- 
 most immediately after his arrival in Italy, though it did not, any 
 more than in the case of Rubens, override his individuality. He 
 fancied Titian and Tintoretto, and his pictures painted while at 
 Genoa — in whatsis called his "Genoese style" — show that he 
 deepened hiscpLqnng^nd^fojro^d his_compjDsrt 
 their example. Possibly, also, Correggio's type of the Magdalene 
 pleased him, but no other Italian painter seemed to allure him, 
 though he was in Rome and elsewhere in Italy for some years. In 
 1628 he returned to Antwerp, and his art, again, put on a Flemish 
 look, with an admixture of Italian elegance in composition and 
 color. Finally, he went to live at the court of Charles I., in Eng- 
 land. There he grew conventional in composition (he had been 
 
T-COLt jt pAfj: 
 
 'PORTRAIT OF A LADV AND HER DAUGHTER/' BV VAN DVCK. 
 
 LOUVKE, PAKiS. 
 
ANTHONY VAN DYCK 1 79 
 
 leaning that way for a long time), his brush-work and drawing be- 
 came hurried and sketchy, and he seemed less careful in his choice 
 and use of materials. Toward the last, carelessness went far to 
 undermine his art, as dissipation his body. Reckless living finally 
 broke him down, and he died at forty-two, leaving behind him a 
 great reputation, a host of mourning friends, and nearly a thousand 
 pictures. 
 
 His subjects were substantially those of all the Flemish painters 
 of his time. He painted sacred scenes for the Church, allegorical and 
 historical pieces for courts, and portraits for the tenants of courts. 
 He painted all figure subjects ; but his great reputation was chiefly 
 founded on his portrait painting, and it is as a portrait painter 
 that he is known to us to-day. This special branch of painting he 
 early adopted on the advice of Rubens ; and it seems to have been 
 good advice, though Sir Joshua regretted that he did not devote 
 himself to history painting, thinking that he might have excelled in 
 that department. He certainly executed some admirable altar- 
 pieces, besides many of an indifferent quality ; but Rubens had 
 gone before him in that field, and had said about all that Flanders 
 was capable of saying. On the other hand, Rubens had been 
 somewhat jjidifferentio portraiture, and Van Dyck had the oppor- 
 tunity of making this department quite his own. He was gifted 
 withi n eye that s aw: the elevated in the^ human presence, and in 
 portraiture he conceived the id^a^of adding to this elevation the 
 brlllTant coloring of Ruben s and the, Venetians. __This was a new 
 departure, for the portrait up to that time had been usually re- 
 gardecTas something to be done in sober hues ; though men like 
 Bordone ami Baroccio had made brilliant innovations that may 
 have attracted Van Dyck's notice while in Italy. At any rate, he 
 put into practice the idea of not only painting i portrait, but of 
 adding to it brilliant decorative color and making of it a picture. 
 This, in the seventeenth century, was a happy conceit, and the result 
 was an almost instantaneous success. Nobility liked the idea of 
 being handed down to posterity in stately pose and glowing color; 
 and Van Dyck soon found that the orders for portraits outran the 
 orders for altar-pieces. Thus, partly by inclination and partly by 
 circumstances (for he always had an empty pocket), he became a 
 most famous painter of portraits. Nevertheless, Sir Joshua was 
 quite right in his appreciation of Van Dyck's historical pieces. He 
 was a painter of mark in any and all departments ; and if we of 
 
l8o OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 to-day are less impressed with liis excellence in large composed 
 groups than in portraits, it may be owing to the nearness of Ru- 
 bens. The latter's splendor eclipsed every light in the Flemish 
 school. 
 
 In composition, Van Dyck had a faculty for borrowing wherever 
 he could, and wherever he was compelled to invent, he invented. 
 He helped himself to Rubens in Flanders, and to the Venetians in 
 Italy. One of his best works, the "Mocking of Christ," at Berlin, 
 was evidently inspired by a Titian of the same subject now in the 
 Louvre; and the " Madonna of the Donors," shown in Mr. Cole's 
 illustration, is somehow a reminder of the left portion of Tintoret- 
 to's "Marriage of St. Catherine," in the Ducal Palace at Venice, 
 though the lines and groups are changed. He borrowed, he added 
 to, he recreated, and that in art is called originality. In the com- 
 pleted picture there was something of formality in the poses, a little 
 of the academic in the contrasts, and no great inspiration to be ob- 
 served anywhere. The surprises one meets with in Rubens are 
 lacking in Van Dyck. He was limited in inventive power as com- 
 pared with his master. Yet, when it came to the portrayal of the 
 single figure, he rose to a lofty height; though he was not always 
 free from errors caused by haste, or possibly by lack of skill in his 
 assistants. He was usually beautifully clear in outline ; and in the 
 modeling of the forehead, the eyes, the nose, — especially the deli- 
 cate modeling of the nose, — the chin, and the side of the jaw, he 
 was superb. It was just here that he showed his great ability ; and 
 there is no better example of it than the " Portrait of Richardot and 
 his Son," shown in the accompanying engraving. The head and face 
 of the man are absolutely fine and above all reproach. There is, 
 however, one head attributed to Van Dyck which is superior to this 
 of Richardot — in fact, taking it for all and all, it is the most power- 
 fully drawn and modeled head in all portraiture. I refer to the 
 "Portrait of Cornelius van der Geest"in the National Gallery, 
 London. The knowledge of bone structure shown in the skull ; the 
 drawing of the eyes, the nose, the mouth ; the modeling of the side 
 of the jaw from the ear to the chin, are perfection. The simplicity, 
 the certainty, the power of it are at once convincing and astound- 
 ing. Nothing could be finer or nobler, truer as a representation 
 of nature, or greater as pure art. But did Van Dyck paint it? It 
 would seem impossible. It has not his touch, save in the costume ; 
 and the hand that did the costume was a different one from the 
 
'THE MADONNA OF THE DONORS," BV VAN DYCK. 
 
 I.onVRE, TAKIS 
 
ANTHONY VAN DYCK l8l 
 
 hand that did the head. The picture is painted upon wood ; the 
 head is painted upon another substance, and is inserted in the 
 wood. Did Rubens paint the head, and Van Dyck, then a pupil 
 under him, paint the dress ? It is possible ; but the handling of the 
 head is, again, not the handling of Rubens. The picture, as re- 
 gards the painter of it, has always proved a puzzle; and one inva- 
 riably ends by asking: If Van Dyck did not do it, who did do it? 
 It lies between the master and the pupil. No other Flemish 
 painter could have reached up to it ; and Van Dyck could have 
 done it only in a burst of inspiration which is apparent in no other 
 known work of his hand. 
 
 In the Dresden Gallery the early drawing, composition, and 
 flesh-coloring of Van Dyck are brought into sharp contrast with 
 the early work of Rubens by two pictures placed side by side. The 
 subject of both of them is "St. Jerome in the Wilderness"; both 
 pictures are the same in size, composition, and color scheme. The 
 comparison cannot be avoided, placed as the pictures are ; and it 
 results not too happily for Van Dyck. The drawing of the pupil is 
 harsher, the modeling more violent and less effective, the color 
 hotter and less luminous. The remark was ventured, some pages 
 back, that no pupil of Rubens ever attained the master's flesh- 
 coloring ; and here is the proof of it in Rubens's best pupil. 
 As compared with the master's work, his flesh is apoplectic, 
 blistered, saturated with blood at the surface. All of Van Dyck's 
 figure-pictures were inclined to undue warmth in the flesh. They 
 likened Jordaens more than Rubens. After his Italian experience 
 he grew hot in robes and in shadows, following with some exag- 
 geration the warmth of Titian and Tintoretto. By way of relief he 
 often put in masses of blue and other cool colors, with some sharp- 
 ness of contrast ; or he led the eye away from the main issue by 
 sparkles and dashes of light and color on jewelry, embroidery, gold 
 braids, rich garments. This became characteristic of his portraits 
 as of his figure-pieces. Depth, warmth, and brilliancy in robe and 
 costume, with architectural columns, looped-up draperies, and pala- 
 tial furnishings, continued to show in his portraits from his Italian 
 days to the end of his career. A late example of this is the " Por- 
 trait of Charles I." — the full-length fimire standing near a horse 
 in the Salle Carre of the Louvre. It is an attractive piece of color, 
 barring the uncomfortable heat in the face of the attendant holding 
 the horse, and is perhaps one of his most successful combinations 
 
l82 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 of the portrait and the picture. The composition, the drawing, the 
 textures, the trees and sky, the horse, all go to the making of as 
 fine a pictured portrait as any Fleming ever produced. 
 
 Van Dyck's handling was easy and rapid, after the style of Ru- 
 bens ; but never so effective, never so positive. He could drag 
 broken whites about a forehead, or down a nose, or along a jaw, 
 with great skill and much facility ; but his brush was never very 
 pronounced. The loading is slight; he evidently did not wish it 
 to be obtrusive. Vigor of touch was not quite in keeping with his 
 delicacy of drawing and modeling ; and he had no idea of shocking 
 the taste of his sitters by too much evidence of the painter. Even 
 in costumes he was smooth and somewhat shallow in pigment, 
 anxious enough to gain a textural surface, but not disposed toward 
 heavy impasto or thickness in modeling. Tradition tells us of the 
 great care he took in preparing his grounds, in choosing pigments, 
 and in the use of lights and shadows after the Rubens teaching. 
 Doubtless this was true of his early work ; but later on, when suc- 
 cess came to him, he grew less careful, used a good deal of black, 
 and painted flesh over dark grounds in such a way that many 
 of his pictures have darkened in the heads and hands, and become 
 opaque in the shadows. The left hand of the Child in the " Ma- 
 donna of the Donors," looks at present as though covered with 
 coal soot ; and those of the kneeling figures are quite as bad. 
 Whether he used bitumen or not is unknown, but some disintegrat- 
 ing pigment has worked through many of his canvases and made 
 their repainting necessary. I find written from year to year on the 
 margins of my Munich catalogues, beside the titles of the Van 
 Dycks, the words "ruined," "repainted," "black," "totally gone." 
 Haste, bad pigments, and modern restorations, have played sad 
 havoc with many of his works, despite all his accredited care about 
 grounds, oils, and varnishes. 
 
 He left many pictures of varying merit, some of them superb, 
 some merely good, some very indifferent through carelessness. Of 
 pupils he had almost as many as Rubens, but he left no school. 
 His art, however, was studied by painters who came after him; 
 and his portraiture was the chief model of the English painters 
 Reynolds, Gainsborough, Lawrence, and others. It was not a bad 
 model, save as the brilliant is always more misleading with follow- 
 ers than the plain, the simple, and the true. Van Dyck's art was 
 brilliant beyond (juestion ; though, oftentimes, in giving that quality 
 
PORTRAIT OK RKTIARDOT AND HIS SON," liV VAN DVCK. 
 
 LOl'VRE. PARIS. 
 
ANTHONY VAN DYCK 
 
 183 
 
 he sacrificed something of sincerity and candor. The artificial in 
 his pose and aristocratic bearing, the use of genteel hands for all 
 characters, the grandiose elegance of his accessory objects, finally 
 became mannerisms with him, but never disagreeable ones. We 
 feel that the painter was often less free-spoken about the facts than 
 he might have been ; but we also feel that with all his convention- 
 ality and affectation he was a great painter — a prince of the royal 
 blood, if not a king, in art. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 VAN DYCK was born at Antwerp, in 
 1599, of well-to-do parents. His 
 mother was celebrated for a rare degree 
 of skill in embroidery, and her love and 
 sympathy guided the artist's infancy, which 
 manifested itself in a precocious genius 
 for art. She died when he was only eight 
 years old, but his father made careful pro- 
 vision for the continuance of his artistic 
 studies, and placed him, at the age of ten 
 years, with Hendrik van Balen, a histor- 
 ical painter of great merit, and at the age 
 of fifteen or sixteen he passed to the studio 
 of Rubens, where he became this master's 
 first and favorite pupil. Here his progress 
 was so rapid that in 1618 he was enrolled 
 as a master in the registers of the Guikl 
 of Saint Luke — an honor unprecedented 
 in the case of a painter who had not yet 
 completed his nineteenth year. Rubens 
 now advised him to go to Italy and com- 
 plete his education by the study of the 
 great Italian masters, and, furthermore, 
 to make portraiture his special vocation. 
 But as his pictures were attracting atten- 
 tion far and wide, he was induced to ac- 
 cept an invitation to visit the English 
 court of James I., which he did in 1620, 
 when only twenty-one years old. The 
 death of his father, however, among other 
 events, brought him back to Antwerp in 
 1623, and immediately after his father's 
 burial he resolved to depart for Italy, as 
 
 Rubens had advised. At Venice, his first 
 stopping-place, his time was assiduously 
 occupied in studying and copying the 
 works of Titian, Giorgione, Veronese, etc., 
 and his sketch-books remain to attest 
 the severity of his self-discipline, being 
 crowded with memoranda from the trea- 
 sures of Venetian galleries. Some idea 
 of the marvelous rapidity of his brush is 
 given in the fact that, proceeding to Ge- 
 noa in this same year, 1623, and finding 
 himself inundated with commissions from 
 the nobility, who actually competed for 
 the honor of sitting to him, he here com- 
 pleted portraits of the illustrious scions of 
 the houses of Balbi, Spinola, Raggi, Palla- 
 vicino, Brignole, Durazzo, — two of which 
 were equestrian portraits, — besides paint- 
 ing a few classical and sacred pictures, 
 upward of a dozen important works, which 
 are still the pride of the Genoese galle- 
 ries, and before the year was ended had 
 left the city for Rome. And this is not 
 counting two religious works which upon 
 his outset he executed for the parish church 
 of Saventhem, not far from Brussels, and 
 which are considered remarkably fine ex- 
 amples of his early style. At Rome he 
 stayed two years, was the guest of Cardi- 
 nal Bentivoglio, and had commissions 
 from the Pope and many of the noble 
 famiHes. His portrait of the cardinal, now 
 in the Pitti Palace at Florence, shows all 
 
1 84 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 the highest quahties of his art, and glows 
 with the rich and harmonious coloring of 
 the Venetians. His journeyings in Italy 
 included Florence, Milan,Turin, and other 
 cities, and he even went as far south as 
 Sicily, where, at Palermo, he produced 
 some remarkable portraits. When, in 1628, 
 he finally returned to Antwerp, where his 
 master Rubens was at the zenith of his 
 glory, he naturally suffered by compari- 
 son ; but Rubens, soon departing on an 
 embassy to Spain, left the field clear to his 
 famous pupil, and demands for his works 
 increased thick and fast. During the 
 years that followed, before he took up his 
 permanent abode in England, his brush 
 was kept incessantly busy, and he paint- 
 ed many of his finest creations. Of the 
 " Crucifixion," painted for the Church of 
 the Recollets at Mechlin, but now to 
 be seen in the cathedral of that city. 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds has the following: 
 " This picture, on the whole, may be con- 
 sidered as one of the first pictures in the 
 world, and gives the highest idea of Van 
 Dyck's power; it shows that he had truly 
 a genius for history painting, if it had not 
 been taken off by portraits." Van Dyck 
 also executed many etchings during this 
 period, which are esteemed very highly. 
 Van Dyck quitted Flanders for good 
 in 1632, and repaired once more to the 
 court of England. The Earl of Arundel, 
 his friend, was instrumental in bringing 
 his work under the notice of Charles I., 
 and the picture which is said to have been 
 the immediate cause of the king's deter- 
 mination to have Van Dyck at court was 
 a portrait he had painted of one of the 
 court musicians named Laniere. Wal- 
 pole, in his life of Mrs. Mary Beale, quotes 
 an interesting passage from the manuscript 
 diary of her husband relating to this pic- 
 ture, which affords a glimpse of the assi- 
 duity of the artist : 
 
 1672. 20 April. 
 
 . . . Mr. Lcly told me at the same time, 
 as he was studiously looking at my Bishop's 
 
 picture of Van Dyck's and I chanced to ask 
 him how Sir Antony cou'd possibly devise 
 to finish in one day a face that was so ex- 
 ceeding full of work, and wrought up to so 
 extraordinary a perfection — I believe, said 
 he, he painted it over fourteen times. And 
 upon that he took occasion to speak of Mr. 
 Nichol.as Lanicre's picture of Sr. Anto. V. 
 D. doing which, said he, Mr. Laniere him- 
 self told me he salt seaven entire dayes for 
 it to Sr. Anto. and that he painted upon it 
 of all those seaven dayes both morning and 
 afternoon, and only intermitted the time 
 they were at dinner. And he said likewise, 
 that tho' Mr. Laniere satt so often and so 
 long for his picture, that he was not per- 
 mitted so much as once to see it till he had 
 perfectly finished the face to his own satis- 
 faction. This was the picture which being 
 show'd to king Charles I., caused him to 
 give order that V. Dyck shou'd be sent for 
 over into England. 
 
 Van Dyck was received at court with 
 every mark of favor and distinction, and 
 his rapid preferment was such that after 
 three months the king made him a knight, 
 and settled on him a pension of two hun- 
 dred pounds a year for life. His handsome 
 person, engaging manners, and brilliant 
 social gifts, together with the reputation 
 of his talents and the special favor of the 
 king, combined to make him the lion of 
 the day, and his studio was the resort of 
 the nobility. Meanwhile his industry was 
 unflagging, and his fertility and produc- 
 tiveness were great. Often the king him- 
 self would drop down in his barge to 
 spend an afternoon in the fascinating so- 
 ciety of the gifted young artist. His habits 
 were luxurious and extravagant to prodi- 
 gality, and his hospitality was unbounded. 
 He kept open house, and frequently de- 
 tained his noble sitters to princely dinners. 
 He figured as a patron of the fine arts, 
 was fond of music, and specially liberal to 
 musicians, whose services he deemed in- 
 dispensable to the perfection of any social 
 entertainment. But though his receipts 
 were great, his expenditures were greater, 
 
ANTHONY VAN DYCK 
 
 185 
 
 and he often found himself in pecuniary 
 straits. He frankly confessed to the king, 
 on one occasion when money matters 
 were broached, that " a man whose house 
 is open to his friends, and his purse to his 
 mistress, is likely to make acquaintance 
 with empty coffers." His financial trou- 
 bles were doubtless aggravated by the 
 disturbed condition of the country, which 
 was verging on revolution. His pension 
 came to remain unpaid, and court patron- 
 age to be a thing more of honor than of 
 profit. Instead of endeavoring to balance 
 his accounts by the ordinary method of 
 economy and hard work, he was led into 
 seeking gold in the alembic — experiment- 
 ing with alchemy in the delusive pursuit 
 of the philosopher's stone. In this he was 
 encouraged by the example or advice of 
 his friend Sir Kenelm Digby, and it was a 
 subject which in those days appeared to 
 many intelligent minds worthy of consid- 
 eration. In this vain quest of treasure he 
 spent much precious time, money, and 
 health. A friend came from Flanders to 
 visit him at this period, and found him 
 brooding over his crucible, broken in 
 
 health and spirits — a complete wreck. 
 His friends and the king, considering his 
 miserable condition, concluded that a 
 good marriage would change the course 
 of his mind, and give him a fresh impetus. 
 Accordingly he was married about 1640 
 to Lady Mary Ruthven, a charming, well- 
 bom maiden ; but sickness and disap- 
 pointments terminated the brief remainder 
 of his career in 1641. Notwithstanding 
 his expensive style of living, he left prop- 
 erty to the value of about a hundred 
 thousand dollars. 
 
 So far as portraiture goes. Van Dyck 
 occupied a high place. His works have 
 an air of elegance and distinction and a 
 mundane grace and courtliness naturally 
 befitting his title of " painter to the king." 
 Though the majority of his pictures are 
 in the private houses of the English no- 
 bility, and comparatively few are found 
 in public museums, those which I have 
 engraved from the Louvre, viz., " Portrait 
 of a Lady and her Daughter," " Portrait 
 of Richardot and his Son," and " The 
 Madonna of the Donors," are among 
 the best. 
 
 T. C. 
 
DAVID TENIERS THE YOUNGER 
 
Chapter XX 
 
 DAVID TENIERS THE YOUNGER 
 
 (1610- 1690) 
 
 BETWEEN Van Dyck and Teniers the Younger stretches the 
 whole length and breadth of Flemish art. They are the 
 opposing poles, and they stand for two very different con- 
 ceptions of painting held in Flanders during the seventeenth cen- 
 tury. Van Dyck was a painter of elevated life, with a style largely 
 influenced by the great Italian masters. He was a figure painter 
 who, like Rubens, blended the Flemish with the Italian to make a 
 new art. Teniers, on the contrary, was not influenced by Italy ; he 
 never went there, and had nothing to do with the large decorative 
 composition. He was a thorough Fleming, painting the common- 
 place life that he found on his native heath, a cousin in art to the 
 Dutch genre-painters Ostade and Steen, a painter of small easel 
 pictures. In fact, he was Dutch in all except birth and some fea- 
 tures of technic peculiar to the Flemish school. 
 
 It is said that he was a pupil of Rubens, or, at the least, was 
 influenced by him and by Brouwer ; but there is no record to ver- 
 ify this, and little trace of the influence of either master in Teniers's 
 work. He was a pupil of his father, and learned from him his sub- 
 ject, his point of view, and his technic. He was an improvement 
 upon his father, and, counting out Brouwer, who was more Dutch 
 than Flemish, he was certainly head and shoulders over all the other 
 genre-painters in Flanders. He painted all themes — peasants, 
 boors, ale-houses, kitchens, fetes, musical parties, landscapes, por- 
 traits, battles, biblical scenes, allegories — but he always treated 
 them in a genre style, with Flemish types and costumes, and in a 
 true Netherlands spirit. Whether he told of the parable of the 
 
190 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 Prodigal Son, or of an idle group of people in front of a tavern, the 
 conception was the same. In this respect he was, again, like the 
 Dutch painters, valuing his art for what it looked, and caring little 
 for what it meant. As depicting actual historic occurrences many 
 of his pictures are absurd enough ; but as art in color, light, air, 
 grouping, they are excellent. His representations seemed to have 
 a more pointed meaning when he pictured alchemists and St. An- 
 thonys surrounded by goblins, bats, flying-fish, and small devils. 
 It may be that he meant such scenes as a hit at philosophers and 
 theologians ; and then again it is possible he was merely following 
 the subjects of the Brueghels. At any rate there is a comic vein 
 about them that he evidently enjoyed. As things dramatic or tragic 
 they were decidedly weak. Teniers had little of the dramatic about 
 him, and though he occasionally showed actien, he displayed no 
 emotion. His work is picturesque, seldom literary, never passion- 
 ate. He used Flemish types, and disposed them in his compositions 
 much as he might chairs or tables, or church steeples or door- 
 posts — for their value in line and color. The psychological in the 
 human face bothered him little ; and for that matter, he used only 
 two or three faces for all his characters. He was very shrewd in 
 his placing of objects and colors, and sometimes he was excessive 
 in this very feature by dragging into his composition numberless 
 small objects, to gain a sparkle of light or to fill a vacancy on the 
 canvas. His St. Anthony pictures are finical, petty, and spotty in 
 small devils with flashing eyes, that crawl or fly here and there across 
 the canvas. 
 
 In open-air pieces he loved great sky space, broken cloud ef- 
 fects, architecture, distant towers ; and he handled these with a very 
 sensitive regard for aerial perspective, as may be seen in Mr. Cole's 
 illustration, one of the most beautiful of all his works, and yet hardly 
 a represe'ntative picture. In interiors, he was again successful in 
 atmosphere, and, like Ostade and De Hooch, gained it with two or 
 more planes in his picture, by using a screen, a partition, or a back 
 room seen through a doorway. Neither indoors nor out-of-doors 
 did he use the heavy shadows illuminated by sharp shafts of light, 
 as did the Dutch painters. His illumination was more uniform, and 
 in landscape it came from the sky, clear, bright, almost sunny. He 
 was fonder, however, of the broken half-light, because it comported 
 better Avith his somewhat monotonous scheme of color. It was his 
 practice to block out a picture in monochrome, usually brown, and 
 
'AFTERNOON," BY TENIERS THE YOUNGER. 
 
 ANTWERP MUSEUM. 
 
DAVID TENIERS THE YOUNGER I9I 
 
 upon this to superimpose dark greens for foliage, pale blues for sky, 
 carmines for flesh, and touches of gray for shadow. The impasto 
 was thin, and the warmth of the under color was felt through the 
 surface pigments, tingeing and tempering the coloring of the whole. 
 In shadows his pigment barely covered the ground, and in many 
 of his pictures the ground can be seen shining through. He did 
 this to gain transparency ; while in his lights he loaded quite freely 
 in spots to gain reflection by opacity. When he had thus worked 
 up his picture from its monochrome state, he added spots of color 
 in costumes and accessories ; and when the picture was finished, 
 he dashed a line of white or blue on a cock's feather protruding 
 from a red cap or hat, and signed his initials. 
 
 Teniers's pictures give the impression of being produced with 
 little effort ; and, indeed, it is said he often painted a picture in a 
 day. He worked with great rapidity and sureness, and with a 
 charming sprightliness of touch. His pigments look fresh as though 
 laid but yesterday, and there is always a snap and sparkle about 
 the lights that lend to vivacity. Sir Joshua thought his work worthy 
 of the closest attention from those who desired to excel in the me- 
 chanical knowledge of art. " His manner of touching, or what we 
 call handling, has, perhaps, never been excelled ; there is in his pic- 
 tures that exact mixture of softness and sharpness which is difficult 
 to execute." He had several of these " manners," showing princi- 
 pally in his use of color, and corresponding to different periods of 
 his development. At first he was somewhat sharp and harsh, in 
 the style of his master, with a deep, brown tone. After 1640 he 
 became golden, and, still later, silvery. In his age he returned 
 again to the golden tone. 
 
 He left some seven hundred pictures, but no school. No pupils 
 of consequence succeeded him. He was the last of the masterful 
 painters of Flanders ; and after him came the eighteenth century 
 decline — a period in art remarkable for nothing but littleness in 
 both men and measures. 
 
 NOTES BY THE ENGRAVER 
 
 TENIERS THE YOUNGER was old, he was admitted to the Guild of Ant- 
 bom at Antwerp in 1610, and as werp. His father, David Teniers the elder^ 
 early as 1632, when only twenty-two years a painter of repute, was his instructor, and 
 
192 
 
 OLD DUTCH AND FLEMISH MASTERS 
 
 he enjoyed the society of Rubens, as well 
 as the friendship of other distinguished ar- 
 tists. He married a daughter of Jan, or 
 "Velvet" Brueghel in 1637, when twen- 
 ty-seven years old, at which ceremony 
 Rubens was one of the witnesses, and 
 came into the favor and patronage of the 
 nobility. He became Dean of the Guild 
 of St. Luke when thirty-five years old, and 
 later was instrumental in the erection of 
 the academy of fine arts. Upon the regis- 
 ters of the guild his name is written with- 
 out the final s. His wife dying, he married 
 in i656adaughter of the secretary of state 
 for Brabant. By means of his talents and 
 pleasing personal qualities he attained a 
 higher position in society than had before 
 been occupied by any genre-painter of the 
 school. The stadtholder of the Spanish 
 Netherlands — Archduke Leopold Wil- 
 liam — appointed Teniers court-painter, 
 and also groom of the chambers, including 
 the charge of the picture-gallery, and he 
 was confirmed in both these offices by the 
 successor of the archduke, Don Juan of 
 Austria, natural son of PhiUp IV. of Spain. 
 His art at the same time obtained him a 
 European reputation, so that other great 
 potentates, Philip IV., Christina of Swe- 
 den, and the Elector of the Palatinate^ 
 gave him commissions. Christina, in ad- 
 dition to recompensing him magnificently, 
 sent him her portrait and a gold chain. 
 Teniers became prosperous and popular, 
 and lived in grand style at his chateau of 
 " Three Towers " at Perck, between Vel- 
 vorde and Mechlin, entertaining noble- 
 men, literary and scientific personages, 
 and art patrons, who made a point of vis- 
 iting the painter. He gave Don Juan of 
 Austria lessons in painting, and this prince, 
 before quitting the Netherlands, painted 
 a portrait of Teniers's son, and presented 
 it to Teniers as a souvenir and token of 
 his regard. For the Archduke Leopold 
 William Teniers painted a great number 
 of small copies of pictures in that prince's 
 
 gallery, which were engraved in Teniers's 
 " Theatrum Pictorium," a work that be- 
 came widely celebrated. 
 
 His extraordinary technical facility of 
 hand, and his untiring industry, enabled 
 Teniers to execute a prodigious number 
 of works. He declared it would need a 
 gallery two leagues in length to contain 
 all his pictures. It is said that he began 
 and finished many of his canvases at a 
 single sitting. His versatility, and his 
 power of imitating the manner of the most 
 various masters, as well as the great range 
 of his subjects, caused him to be styled 
 the " Proteus of painting," for although 
 the animated delineation of the peasant 
 world, under the most varying forms, was 
 his favorite sphere, he frequently depicted 
 scenes from the realm of fancy. The 
 guard-house, with its old armor, drums, 
 and flags, he often painted ; and also cat- 
 tle-pieces and landscapes, wherein his del- 
 icate feeling for nature is evident. 
 
 The many works executed by Teniers 
 during a working life of three-score years 
 are widely scattered throughout Europe. 
 The gallery of Madrid alone has 53, St. 
 Petersburg 40, the Louvre 36, Dresden 
 30, Vienna 18, the National Gallery of 
 London 6. The little town of Cassel has 
 10, and I counted 9 in the Antwerp Gal- 
 lery. From Antwerp I selected the en- 
 graved example. The original is but little 
 larger than the engraving, measuring six 
 and one quarter by eight and one half 
 inches. Its title is " L'Apres-diner" (Af- 
 ternoon). It is an example of his best 
 period. The " silver " manner of Teniers 
 is a close approach to the cool gray air 
 of nature, and with this style there fol- 
 lowed a more precise and careful treat- 
 ment, though no diminution of that light 
 and sparkling touch wherein the separate 
 strokes of the brush are left unbroken — 
 a touch in which he stands unexcelled by 
 any other genre-painter. 
 
 T. C. 
 
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