Women artists in all ages and countries

The golden age of French literature and art came to a close with the life of Louis XIV. A shadow only of that fortunate epoch lingered during the years succeeding, and the general corruption of manners soon obliterated even that. But in the reign of Louis XV. were glimpses of a better state of things, and the influence of female genius and merit was apparent, as a long list of names in literature can testify. Vice held sway, however, in the latter years of this monarch, and hypocrisy became the only homage paid by the court to virtue.

The sceptre passed into the hands of Louis XVI., a feeble prince, whose virtues were those of the man, not the sovereign. When the throne was shattered, and revolution broke out, the women of France regained their energy. They were heroines under the sway of the Decemvirs. What self-sacrifice, for example, can outshine that of Charlotte Corday—the greater than Brutus? And what was begun by a woman, a woman completed: Madame Cabarrus shared in the glory of those great events! Those days had writers, too, whom posterity has crowned with the garland woven by their contemporaries.

In comparing woman’s progress and her cultivation of art in France with those of other nations, and especially the German, we may notice important differences. The number of female artists was far greater in Germany, perhaps because many cities in that land were central points, affording employment to labor, and appreciation to those who devoted themselves to the profession; whereas in France Paris alone was the great rendezvous. There were, also, several branches of art cultivated in Germany which in France were little practiced by women, such as landscape-painting, for instance. The French women devoted themselves much more to engraving than in Germany; in fact, engravers formed the majority of female artists in France, where, moreover, female effort was more in a strictly business line than in any other country. With this professional devotion among the women engravers in France, it follows that there were few amateurs; while, on the other hand, those in Germany and England who handled the implements of art as dilettanti were very numerous.

Glancing over the prominent Frenchwomen who enjoyed a reputation among their contemporaries during the eighteenth century, we may notice the stamp-cutters Marie Anne de St. Urbin and Elise Lesueur, with the sculptress Mademoiselle Collot, who afterward married Falconnet, and assisted him in the completion of the statue of Peter the Great. She was said to be enamored of the czar, and to have executed the finest bust of him extant. The female painters of this period are but little known. In the early part of the century, Lucrece Catherine de la Ronde and Elizabeth Gauthier engraved after Edelinck and Langlais. Marie Catherine Herault accompanied her husband, the painter Silvestre, to Dresden; and Geneviéve Blanchot, and the Dames Godefroy and Davin, among others less noted, complete the list during the first half of the century.

The number of devotees to art, however, was rapidly increasing, as the ateliers of Regnault, David, and Redouté could bear witness, when they became central points of reunion for female enterprise and study.

The influence of those celebrated men, whose fair scholars have exercised their talents in the nineteenth century, brought more into vogue the tender and emotional kind of genre-painting, shown by Greuze and Fragonard to be so well adapted to the taste and the feeling of woman. Marguerite Gérard, the sister-in-law and pupil of Fragonard, in this manner painted scenes of domestic life and family groups with much grace and repose. A Madame Gérard has been mentioned as a dilettante, who possessed a large fortune, and had a hotel furnished with facilities for painting Sèvres. Her splendid cupboards of polished mahogany were gilded and bronzed, and their contents looked like a rich collection for the gratification of taste rather than for sale. She purchased some pieces for sixty and eighty louis-d’ors. A pair of vases, not very large, painted with sacred subjects, sold for twenty-six thousand livres.

The genre style was practiced by Mademoiselle Duquesnoy and Madame Gois. Greuze’s manner was also imitated by his wife, Anna Gabrielle, with Marie Geneviéve Brossard de Beaulieu, who had the honor of membership in the Academies of Paris and Rome.

Other disciples of this school entered into their profession after the commencement of the nineteenth century; and they, with the pupils of Regnault, Redouté, and David, belong to a later period than that under discussion.

Portrait-painting was more in vogue than any other kind, and that almost altogether in oil; while miniature-painting, so much in favor among the women of Germany, was in France much less practiced. Among those who gained some celebrity, Caroline Sattler deserves mention. She studied in Paris, and was not only received as a member of the Academy in that city, but was honored with the title of Professor. Some time afterward she gave her hand to a merchant named Tridon, and went to live in Dresden.

Landscape-painting was practiced by very few women. In flower-painting Madeleine Françoise Basseporte was noted. She was born in 1701, received her instruction from Aubriet, and in 1743 succeeded him in his official appointment in the Jardin des Plantes. She painted a series of pieces for the collection of the Duc Gaston d’Orleans, which are still exhibited as masterworks of art.

Madame Kugler, the wife of Von Weyler, painted the portraits of distinguished persons in ivory, and had fine pieces, in enamel and pastel, in the exhibition in 1789. She was employed by the government, and worked after her husband’s plans. For twelve years she was distinguished for her labors.

Mesdames Charpentier, Surigny, Capet, Bruyère, Michaud, Davin, Mirnaux, Anzon, and Benoit—who painted the emperor—were also well known as artists.

Susanna Silvestre came of a French family of painters. She copied heads and portraits after Vandyck.

As to the class of women, already noticed, who embraced the profession of engravers, they were almost innumerable; yet it is difficult to select any who merit special attention. One of the number—Marguerite Leconte—about the middle of the century was a member of Art-academies in Rome, Florence, and Bologna, and enjoyed a position of high distinction. Geneviéve Naugis, born in Paris in 1746, worked before she became the wife of Regnault. She copied plants from nature, and engraved in copper; she also copied history-pieces after different masters.

Fanny Vernet engraved the pictures painted by her husband, Charles Vernet; and, in her son Horace, gave to French art one of its greatest ornaments.

Elizabeth Clara Tardieu was the wife of an eminent French engraver, and was accustomed to practice the art herself with success.

Mary Magdalen Hortemels, the daughter of a French engraver, and the wife of Cochin, was a noted engraver. She executed with the point and finished with the graver, in a light and pleasing style. Several of the plates for Monicart’s treatise on the pictures, statues, etc., at Versailles were done by her.

Marie Rosalie Bertaud and Louise Adelaide Boizot were excellent engravers.

Anne Philibert Coulet was an ingenious engraver of landscapes and marine views; she wrought in a delicate and pleasing style.

We will now throw back a look upon two female painters, who won for themselves a nearly equal renown, and who are admirably adapted—each in her own personal history, and the view of her early efforts—to be representatives of the condition and characteristics of French art at that period; and, withal, of the prevalent state of society. These women are Adelaide Vincent and Louise Elise Le Brun.

ADELAIDE VINCENT.

Adelaide Vertus Labille was born in Paris in 1749, and received her earliest lessons in painting in that city, from J. E. Vincent, of Geneva. This artist had come to Paris a short time before her birth, had gained consideration as a painter of miniature portraits, and was received a member of the Academy. Adelaide’s teacher in pastel-painting was at first Latour; but when the son of her childhood’s master—François Antoine Vincent, who had shared her studies in his father’s atelier, as a boy, three years older than herself—came back to Paris, she determined to join him both in the pursuit of art and the journey of life. Her first husband had been M. Guyard; her second was the younger Vincent.

Adelaide painted a great number of portraits, among which those of artists were most noted. One of these—the portrait of the sculptor Gois—won the prize offered by the Academy, and gained for the fair artist such celebrity that even the works of her famous rival Madame Le Brun were thought inferior to it.

A distinguished mark of appreciation was the appointment of Madame Vincent as regular member of the Academy; this took place on the 31st March, 1781. When the storm of the Revolution burst upon France she adhered to the party of her husband, whose attachment to the royal family caused him to live in continual hostility with the republican painter David. One of her works was a large picture, in which the figures were of life size, representing herself before the easel, and her pupils around her; among them Mademoiselle Capet, the Duchess of Angoulême, and several other members of the royal family, by whom she was greatly esteemed and frequently employed.

Another of her greatest productions represents the reception of a member into the Order of St. Lazarus, by Monsieur, the king’s brother, grand master of the order, who had given her the appointment of court painter. This picture was destroyed during the Revolution, and its loss caused the artist so much vexation that she would rarely touch the brush afterward. Among her subsequent productions, a portrait of her husband was celebrated at the time.

This accomplished woman, crowned with honors by her contemporaries, both as an artist and in social life, and esteemed by a large circle of friends, died in 1803.

ELIZABETH LE BRUN.

The other distinguished artist alluded to is Marie Louise Elizabeth Vigée, who, under her married name, Le Brun, is widely known as one of the most celebrated women belonging to the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

She was born in Paris, April 16th, 1755. Her father was a skillful portrait-painter, and, amid the sports of childhood in her home, she became acquainted with the principles that form the ground-work of this art. She showed very early both disposition and talents for painting. When only seven or eight years of age she drew a sketch of a bearded man, which when her father saw, recognizing it as a token of the presence of genius, he exclaimed, rapturously, “You shall be a painter, my daughter, or there never was one!”

Elizabeth long remembered this occurrence, and, in her memoir of herself, speaks of the deep impression made upon her childish feelings by the praises her father lavished on this early production.

The lessons she received at home were soon found insufficient for her rapidly-developing talent. She was introduced, as a pupil in drawing, to Briard, a painter of considerable merit, who excelled in outline and sketching. Her teacher in coloring was Davesne, after whom a picture of Marie Antoinette as Dauphine of France was engraved. The celebrated Joseph Vernet, then in the midst of his brilliant career, gave her valuable advice, and always took a fatherly interest in the gifted child. Her own father died when she was only thirteen years old, but her mother permitted her to continue her studies of the great masters in the public galleries.

Here the maiden copied from the mighty works of Rubens, from the portraits of Rembrandt and Vandyck, and from the delicate and charming female heads of Greuze. Thus the ground-work was laid of her future eminence as a colorist, and it was not long ere she was sufficiently advanced to make considerable profit out of her labors.

Her father had left no property at his death, and her mother had been too long accustomed to a brilliant and luxurious Parisian life not to feel privations sorely. She sought the means of indulgence in her accustomed pleasures by availing herself of the talents of her daughter, who now found herself obliged to support the family with her earnings.

Even when the mother entered into a second marriage, some years later, the condition of things was not improved. Madame Vigée, wedded to a rich jeweler, found herself disappointed in the expectation of increased means to minister to her vanity and extravagance. From the day of the bridal the husband showed himself so avaricious and penurious, that he refused to furnish his wife and step-daughter even the necessaries of life.

The labors of our poor little Elizabeth were again in requisition; and though her old friend Vernet advised her to give her parents only an allowance from her earnings, and reserve the remainder for her own use, all she could procure was taken from her and spent, either in the purchase of articles for the family, or for the gratification of her mother’s unbounded fondness for dress, promenades, and public amusements.

Wherever the youthful maiden appeared she was noticed for her extreme beauty, as well as talked about for her wonderful talents, and the general interest in her professional career seemed to go hand in hand with admiration of her rare personal loveliness. She tells us, in her memoirs, of several men enamored of her, who bespoke portraits from her hand in the hope, during the sittings, of making progress in her favor; but her love for art, as well as the principles of morality and religion in which she had been reared, rendered her proof against all such attempts to undermine her virtue.

When only fifteen years old she painted a portrait of her mother, which proved so admirable a piece of work that Vernet counseled her to present it to the Academy with an application for admission. Elizabeth’s extreme youth prevented her being received as a member, but she was permitted, a few years later, to be present at all the public sittings of the Academy.

It was about this time that she became acquainted with Jean Baptiste Pierre Le Brun, a painter and picture-dealer, who was then considered one of the first connoisseurs of Europe. He paid devoted attention to the lovely young artist, inducing her to visit his rare and rich collection for the purpose of study, while he manifested the deepest interest in her success. Six months after his introduction he became a suitor for her hand. She says, in her autobiography,

“I was far from the thought of marrying M. Le Brun, although he possessed a handsome face and agreeable person; but my mother, who imagined him very rich, never ceased urging me not to refuse so advantageous a proposal. So at length I yielded; but the marriage was only an exchange of one kind of trouble for another. Not that M. Le Brun was a bad-hearted man. His character showed a mixture of softness and vehemence; and his complaisance to every one made him popular. But he was unhappily too fond of the society of disreputable females, and this degrading propensity led him to a passion for gaming that ruined both of us in point of fortune. So completely had he run through all we possessed, that in 1789 I had not twenty francs for my journey out of France, although my earnings had amounted to more than a million.”

The marriage, which on the husband’s part was a mere matter of speculation, for he relied on the talents of his bride to rid him of his creditors, and enable him to live in ease and luxury, was one of those alliances common in Paris in the reign of Louis XV. The experience of our heroine was characteristic of the times. Le Brun had been previously engaged to the daughter of a wealthy Dutch picture-dealer, with whom he had transacted business. He begged his wife to keep their marriage a secret till his former business arrangements were satisfactorily adjusted. Madame consented, although she was placed in a most painful position, being beset with warnings and entreaties from her friends, urging her not to enter into a union sure to be productive of unhappiness—when, alas! the mischief was already accomplished. The Duchesse d’Aremberg predicted misery as the result of such a marriage; the court jeweler, Auber, a friend of her youth, advised her “rather to tie a stone round her neck and throw herself into the river than to commit such a piece of folly and madness.”

The young wife, however, still kept her faith in the excellence of her beloved. At last the completion of his business arrangements enabled him to declare the marriage publicly, and very soon it appeared that all these warnings were but too well founded. Le Brun first took possession of all the hard-earned property of his wife, and compelled her to increase her income by taking pupils. The sole advantage this accession of means procured for her was the more active and incessant employment that prevented her from feeling too bitterly the disappointment of her hopes of happiness in domestic life. Her husband took the money paid for her pictures and lessons to squander it on his own selfish indulgences. He occupied the first floor of the house, furnished in magnificent style, and surrounded himself with costly luxuries; while his wife was obliged to content herself with the second story, and with very plain living. Such a state of things in married life, however, was not unusual toward the close of the reign of Louis XV., and it excited no surprise.

While matters stood thus, Le Brun obtained the credit of being an indulgent husband by the indifference he showed in allowing even persons of questionable character to visit his wife, while he seldom appeared in her circles, and by his disregard of sundry cautions and rumors on the subject. Scandal, which rarely spares an ill-used wife, unless the austere seclusion of her life be more than hermit-like, whispered terrible things of Madame Le Brun, and she was even accused of owing the large sums paid for her pictures more to personal favors than to her merit as a painter. Conscious of innocence, she was wont to complain to her husband of such injustice, and he would answer, jestingly,

“Let people talk. When you die I will put up a lofty pyramid in my garden, inscribed with a list of the portraits you have painted, and then the world will know how you have come by the money you have made.”

Such mocking sympathy was all the return for her confidence and earnest appeals for protection from the unworthy husband who continued to live in luxury at her expense.

When twelve thousand francs were sent Elizabeth for a portrait of the son of Princess Lubomirska, Le Brun appropriated to his own use the entire sum except two louis-d’ors, which he gave his wife out of it.

With feelings wounded, and alienated from him by such treatment, Madame Le Brun at length appears to have resolved to make herself as happy as possible in her own way. French society was then corrupted to the core, and it was difficult to move in it without partaking of the contamination. It was especially so for one whose education had been superficial, and who had never learned to emulate the example of those pure devotees to art who had found in that a power to preserve and guide them, even amid the intrigues and dissipation of the circles that surrounded them.

Madame Le Brun had obtained the favor and intimate friendship of persons of very high rank. Marie Antoinette not only sent to her for her picture, but was accustomed to ask her to sing with her, the painter being almost as celebrated for her “silver voice” as for her professional merits. The public honors lavished upon her aided to make her labors profitable.

On one occasion, at a sitting of the French Academy, La Harpe recited a poem in honor of female genius. When he came to the lines—

“Le Brun—de la beauté le peintre et le modèle,
Moderne Rosalba, mais plus brillante qu’elle,
Joint la voix de Favart au sourire de Vénus—”

the whole assembly rose, not even, excepting the Duchesse de Chartres and the King of Sweden, and the fair artist was stunned with a burst of enthusiastic applause.

Her admission into the Academy, which had been hitherto prevented by personal jealousies and other hinderances, now took place, on the presentation of her own portrait, in 1783. This picture she had painted after the famous one by Rubens—“Le chapeau de paille”—which she had seen the year before when on a visit to Belgium. Her work was so admirable that Vernet, her ever faithful friend, saw at once that he could by its means procure the immediate enrollment of her name among the members of the Academy.

In the “poor dwelling” to which M. Le Brun’s extravagance consigned her, she managed to hold every week an evening reception, notwithstanding the limited accommodations. Her house became the rendezvous for all the celebrities of Paris, and for much of its beauty and high rank. Curious stories were afloat in regard to her expenditures in entertaining the dignified personages who visited her. It was said that her table was covered with gold plate; that her apartments were warmed with aloes-wood, and even that she kindled her fire with bank-notes. The absurdity of such rumors may well lead one to doubt others in the chroniques scandaleuses of the day, more nearly affecting her reputation.

It is certain, however, that she received guests of the highest distinction, and that her receptions were crowded to excess. The want of chairs often compelled her visitors to seat themselves on the ground. Madame Le Brun herself describes, with evident pleasure in the recollection, the embarrassment of the fat old Duc de Noailles, who one evening had to stand a long time, on account of the scarcity of seats.

Music was generally a part of the entertainment, and the fair hostess, though she had paid little attention to the superior cultivation of that art, sang most charmingly. Grétry, Sachini, and Martini here rehearsed scenes from the new operas before their representation; Garat, Azevedo, Richer, and Madame Le Brun supplied the vocal music, while the instrumental would be furnished by Viotti, Jarnowich, Maestrino, Cramer, Hülmandel, and Prince Henry of Prussia, brother to Frederick William III. He was said to be a celebrated amateur.

The petits soupers which usually terminated these delightful soirées, and to which only a few favored guests were invited, became renowned throughout France. They were said to be brilliant in Attic elegance and Parisian luxury. The popular Delille, the piquant author Le Brun, who first flattered the royal family and then became the Pindar of the Revolution; the luxurious Boufflers, the Vicomte de Segur, were among the frequenters of this sanctuary of the muses and the graces. The suppers, indeed, had a European celebrity.

One day the brother of Madame Le Brun read aloud from the travels of Anacharsis a description of an ancient Grecian banquet. The fancy came into the lady’s head of arranging one of her suppers in imitation of the feasts of the luxurious Aspasia.

The cook was immediately furnished with receipts for Greek sauces; the “little” supper-room was changed into a classic banqueting-hall, and a table made according to the antique fashion was set in the middle of the room, surrounded with Grecian draperied couches. A request was sent to the Comte de Pezay, who lived in the same building, for an antique mantle of regal purple, while the Marquis de Cubières was levied on for a golden lyre, on which he was skilled in playing.

Le Brun—not the husband, but the poet—was arrayed by the fair hands of the artist—whose taste in picturesque costume none could question—with the purple robe and a classic wig, adorned with a laurel wreath. He was thus fitted to bear his part as Pindar or Anacreon! Some young ladies, noted for their beauty, were dressed in Greek tunics, with classic coiffures, to figure as Athenian maidens; while the gentlemen guests underwent a corresponding transformation.

Those favored with invitations to this select entertainment took their places to the music of the golden lyre, and the classic air composed by Gluck,

“Le Dieu de Paphos et de Gnide,”

while the Pindar of the evening sang Anacreontic odes.

Among the delicacies that covered the board were eels and birds dressed with Greek sauces and garnished with honey-cakes; figs, and olives, and grapes of Corinth. Two beautiful slaves—Mademoiselle de Bonneuil and Mademoiselle Le Brun—served the guests with Cyprian wine, in cups brought from buried Herculaneum.

Two guests arrived late—the Comte de Vaudreuil and the financier Boutin—who had not been prepared for the surprise. They stood still, dumb with amazement, at the threshold, and seemed to think themselves transported to Athens in her day of intellectual glory!

The next day the classic banquet given by Madame Le Brun was the talk of all Paris. She was entreated to repeat the entertainment, but with proper tact declined. Some of her acquaintances took offense at the refusal and at their own exclusion, and revenged the slight (as she says) by slandering her to the king. It was averred the supper had cost twenty thousand francs, and Cubières had much ado to undeceive his majesty.

The story and the fame of the banquet traveled over the Continent; by the time it had reached Rome the cost had swelled to forty thousand; and in Vienna, the Baroness Strogonoff assured Madame Le Brun, it was reported she had spent sixty thousand. In St. Petersburg it was naturally as much as eighty thousand. “The fact is,” says Madame Le Brun, “the little affair cost me only fifteen francs.” She may be relied on as to her share of the expense, although the cost to others may have been somewhat greater.

Such exaggerated rumors, and the gossip growing out of them, caused some disagreement in the general estimation of Madame Le Brun’s talents and character. The homage she had received and continued to receive from the nobility, with her appointment as painter-in-ordinary to the queen, and the favors heaped on her by the court, helped to render her obnoxious to a people among whom attachment to royalty and aristocratic forms began to be regarded as a crime.

France was on the eve of that Revolution which was destined to uproot the existing order of things, and the woman whom Marie Antoinette had made her companion was not likely to escape without opprobrium. Besides, had she not, in 1774, before her marriage, published a work entitled “Amour des Français pour leur roi?”

When the Revolution broke out, Madame Le Brun perceived that she could no longer remain in France. The law protecting artists, and permitting them to travel in their vocation, was available for her departure.

She resolved to go to Italy, and, with poignant grief, bade adieu to her home and friends. But the journey commenced so sadly proved a triumphant progress, crowned with tokens of respect and homage.

In Bologna she was at once declared a member of the Academy. At Rome she was welcomed by a deputation of artists, who went to meet her; while the painter Menageot, who had just been appointed director of the French Academy, assigned her apartments in the palace of the institution.

In Naples she was received with marks of distinction by the queen, the sister of Marie Antoinette, and here several residents of rank sat to her for their portraits—among others, the beautiful Lady Hamilton, whom the artist painted as a Bacchante reclining on the sea-shore. This picture was highly praised, and spread far and wide the fame of Madame Le Brun.

In Florence she was requested to paint a portrait of herself for the collection of originals to which reference has already been made. She finished the portrait for this gallery, where it was placed in 1790, two years after that of Angelica Kauffman had been added to the collection.

Goethe says of the portrait of Angelica Kauffman, comparing it with that of Madame Le Brun in the same gallery: “It has a truer tone in the coloring; the position is more pleasing, and the whole exhibits more correct taste and a higher spirit in art. But the work of Le Brun shows more careful execution; has more vigor in the drawing, and more delicate touches. It has, moreover, a clear, though somewhat exaggerated coloring. The Frenchwoman understands the art of adornment; the head-dress, the hair, the folds of lace on the bosom—all are arranged with care, and, as one might say, con amore. The piquant, handsome face, with its lively expression, its parted lips disclosing a row of pearly teeth, presents itself to the beholder’s gaze as if coquettishly challenging his admiration, while the hand holds the pencil as in the act of drawing. The picture of Angelica, with the head gently inclined, and the soft, intellectual melancholy of the countenance, evinces higher genius, even if, in point of artistic skill, the preference would be given to the other.”

From a comparison of the two portraits, a contrast might be drawn in the contemplation of the lives and characters of the two artists. But we will return to Madame Le Brun, whom we find pursuing the journeys she made as a conqueror, receiving new honors and new tributes wherever she passed.

After visiting Florence and Parma, where she was elected a member of the Academy, she went to Venice, Verona, and Milan. Italy—the land where the fairest fruits of female genius in painting had been found—seemed eager to pay the homage of admiration to the gifted daughter of another clime. Compliments and felicitations were showered upon her by the countrymen of a Sirani and a Robusti.

She came at length to Vienna, where the Count Kaunitz received her with friendly welcome, and immediately introduced her at court. A golden harvest here awaited her efforts, and gallant attentions from persons in high places were not wanting. The Prince de Ligne—a type of the cavaliers of the ancien régime, whom she had known in former years at the court of Versailles—devoted himself to her service, and sang her praises in amatory verses.

Visiting Berlin, she found an old friend in the person of Prince Henry, and had a very favorable reception at court. Thence she went to St. Petersburg, where she lived some years in a brilliant circle of society under the protection of the Empress Catherine II. and Paul I.

The honors heaped upon her were crowned in 1800 by her election to membership in the Academy of Arts; but, notwithstanding the favor in which she stood with the imperial family and the nobility, and the influx of wealth that grew out of their kindness and the extended appreciation of her paintings, the condition of her health at last obliged her to quit Russia. The entreaties of the emperor and empress could not prevail upon her to remain longer than 1801.

In July of that year she returned to Berlin and received the honor of being chosen a member of the Academy. Orders for portraits were not wanting, but her short stay made it impossible to undertake them. Passing through Dresden she returned to the native land for which her heart had ever pined, arriving in safety at Paris in the winter of the same year.

The misfortunes of the Bourbons had filled her breast with sympathizing grief wherever the news had reached her. She remained true to them through all reverses, living to witness both the restoration and second and final exile of that royal line. This loyal feeling manifested itself even in her relations to the imperial family, when they were in possession of the throne.

Her picture of “Venus binding Love’s wings” had been engraved in Paris by Pierre Villu, in 1787. In London she was attacked by the painter Hoppner, who depreciated her works, and charged her with mannerism. She succeeded, nevertheless, in obtaining distinguished patrons. Two pieces that spread her renown were, a knee-piece of the Prince of Wales, and one of the Signora Grassini in a classic character. The draperies are luxuriant and rainbow-colored.

Sir Joshua Reynolds, when questioned by Northcote on the merits of two of her portraits, pronounced them “as fine as those of any painter,” and he would not except Vandyck, though his remark has been attributed to a generous unwillingness to interfere with the brief summer of her popularity. After a residence of three years in England she came to Paris to paint the portrait of Madame Murat.

At Coppet, whither she went on a journey into Switzerland in 1808-9, she painted a portrait of Madame de Staël, which aided much in spreading her reputation. Having returned from this tour, she purchased a country-seat near Marly, which became, as her house in Paris had been, the resort of a highly cultivated and brilliant society. Especially at the period of the Restoration, public attention, influenced by that of the court, seemed turned to Madame Le Brun with greater earnestness than ever.

The husband of this accomplished woman died in 1813, and five years afterward she lost her only daughter. Her death was followed by that of the brother to whom Madame Le Brun was so much attached. These multiplied afflictions weighed heavily upon her desolate heart. She sought consolation in renewed devotion to her art, and worked in her profession as assiduously as ever, notwithstanding the infirmities of advanced age. When eighty years old she painted the portrait of her niece, Madame de Riviere, and so remarkable for vigorous coloring and lively expression was this picture that it has been preserved among the best specimens of her powers in their prime of energy.

About this time, in 1835, she gave the world her autobiography, in the work entitled “Souvenirs.” In this memoir she enumerates the paintings which she had at that time executed during her life. She had finished six hundred and sixty-two portraits, fifteen large compositions, and two hundred landscape-pieces, sketched during her travels in England and Switzerland.

She had nearly completed her eighty-seventh year at the time of her death, March 30th, 1842. Her long life had been as richly productive in earnest labor as in the reward of success, and in manifold enjoyment. It may, indeed, be regarded, in its rare bloom and vigor, as a type of that brilliant period, gay and luxuriant on the surface, but concealing numerous imperfections, which preceded the French Revolution, and led, as a natural consequence, to that tremendous outbreak.