"Farewel, great Painter of Mankind!
Who reached the noblest point of Art;
Whose pictured Morals charm the Mind,
And through the Eye correct the Heart.
If Genius fire thee, Reader, stay;
If Nature touch thee, drop a Tear;
If neither move thee, turn away,
For HOGARTH'S honour'd dust lies here."

And yet it is of this man that Walpole says, that "as a painter he has slender merit." Charles Lamb remarks wisely, in his fine essay on "The Genius and Character of Hogarth, that his chief design was by no means to raise a laugh." Of his prints, he says, "A set of severer satires (for they are not so much comedies, which they have been likened to, as they are strong and masculine satires), less mingled with anything of mere fun, were never written upon paper, or graven upon copper. They resemble Juvenal, or the satiric touches in Timon of Athens."

CHAPTER IV.

THE ROYAL ACADEMY AND ITS INFLUENCE.

HOGARTH was the first original painter of England, and he was too original either to copy or to be copied; but he founded no school. What he did was to draw aside the curtain and show the light of nature to those who had been hitherto content to grope amid the extravagances of allegory, or the dreams of mythology. Two circumstances specially stood in the way of the progress of English art—the absence of a recognised academy, where a system of art-study could be pursued, and where rewards were offered for success; and the want of a public exhibition where painters could display their works, or learn from one another. There were no masters, properly speaking, in England, and therefore no pupils. Instead of gathering around them students on the atelier system of the Continent, painters in England had apprentices, who were employed to grind their colours, clean their brushes, and prepare their canvas. Such apprentices might become mechanical copyists of their employers. Nevertheless, such was the system under which all the pupils of all the great Italian Masters, some of whom became great masters in their turns, were trained. Several attempts to supply the want of a recognised system of art-teaching in London had been made from time to time. Sir Balthasar Gerbier had a drawing school in Whitefriars so long ago as the days of Charles I.; Van Dyck promoted studies of this kind at his house in Blackfriars; the Duke of Richmond in 1758 endeavoured to form a school at the Priory Garden, Westminster; Sir Godfrey Kneller supported an academy for drawing and painting at his house in Great Queen Street, till his death in 1723; another society existed in Greyhound Court, Arundel Street, Strand, till 1738, when the members joined the St. Martin's Lane Academy. These, like the following, were drawing and painting schools, under recognised teachers, but neither honour-bestowing, benevolent, nor representative bodies. Each pupil paid for the use of the models and premises, except those which were supplied by the Duke of Richmond to his guests. In 1724 Sir James Thornhill had opened an art academy at his house in James Street, Covent Garden; it existed till his death in 1734; he suggested to the Prime Minister, Lord Halifax, the idea of a Royal Academy. Vanderbank for a time had a school with living models in a disused Presbyterian chapel. William Shipley maintained an art academy in St. Martin's Lane for thirty years, and we know that Hogarth studied there. But none of these schools had a prescribed system of teaching. The absence of a public exhibition was felt as a great misfortune by the artists of this period. Hogarth, however, who regarded the painters of his country from a gloomy point of view, had no belief in the regenerating power of academies or paid professors.

Apart from the Exhibitions of the Society of Artists in 1760 and 1761, for which Hogarth designed the frontispiece and tailpiece to the catalogue, the first public exhibition of pictures was that of sign boards, promoted by Hogarth and B. Thornton in 1762. The impetus which Hogarth's success gave to native art, however, was soon visible; and the Society of Arts and the Dilettanti Society encouraged young painters by giving prizes, and by suggesting the formation of a guild or confraternity of artists. The first private exhibitions of pictures were held in the Foundling and St. Bartholomew's Hospitals, to which Hogarth and some of the leading painters of the day presented their works. This happened in 1746. In 1761 the Society of Artists was rent in two, and a new body, the Free Society, remained in the Adelphi. The Society of Artists removed to Spring Gardens, and in 1765 obtained a charter of incorporation: it was thenceforward called the Incorporated Society. Owing to the mismanagement and consequent dissensions in this body arose the Royal Academy of Arts, established by George III. on December 10th, 1768, though without a royal charter of incorporation. This institution, which was to exercise so marked an influence on the art of England, supplied two wants—a definite system of teaching, and an exhibition of meritorious works.

Before noticing the three eminent painters who mark a new era in English painting, and who became members of the new Academy, we must speak of others who were not without their influence on the world of art. Allan Ramsay (1713—1784) was considered one of the best portrait painters of his time. He was the son of Allan Ramsay, the poet, and was born at Edinburgh. After studying in Italy he came to London and established himself there, frequently visiting Edinburgh. Walpole specially praises his portraits of women, even preferring some of them to those of Reynolds. In 1767 Ramsay was made painter to George III., and his portraits of the King and Queen Charlotte are still at Kensington. As a man of literary tastes and great accomplishments, Allan Ramsay received the praises of Dr. Johnson and Sir Joshua Reynolds. In the Exhibition of 1862 was exhibited a portrait of the Duke of Argyll, by Ramsay. Portrait painting was still the popular branch of art in England, and the influence of Hogarth had produced no advance towards the study of landscape. Among those, however, who attempted it was GEORGE LAMBERT (1710—1765), a scene-painter, and founder of the "Beefsteak Club." This latter distinction makes him remembered, whilst his landscapes, after the manner of Poussin, are forgotten. William Smith (1707—1764), GEORGE SMITH (1714—1776), JOHN SMITH (1717—1764), usually known as the Smiths of Chichester, were very popular in their day. They painted landscapes from the scenery round Chichester, but gave it a foreign and unnatural air by copying Claude and Poussin. Though they exercised considerable influence on English landscape-painting, we cannot wonder at the popularity of these painters when we remember how utterly barren this branch of art still remained in England. Peter Monamy(1670?—1749) was a marine painter of the school of the Van de Veldes, whose pupil he may have been. A Sea piece by him at Hampton Court (No. 915) shows that he was an artist of a high order. Portraits of Monamy and his patron are in a picture by Hogarth at Knowsley. Samuel Scott (1710?—1772) was a friend of Hogarth, and a marine painter after the mode of the Van de Veldes. Walpole considered him "the first painter of his age, one whose works will charm in any age." They have, however, ceased to do so in this. Another marine painter was CHARLES BROOKING (1723—1759), one of whose productions is at Hampton Court. He occasionally worked in concert with DOMINIC SERRES (1722—1793), a Royal Academician (a native of Gascony), whose four large pictures of The Naval Review at Portsmouth, painted for George III., are likewise at Hampton Court. The works of Dominic Serres have been confounded with those of his son, JOHN THOMAS SERRES (1759—1825), who was a far superior painter to his father.

We pass on to speak of three celebrated painters, who when already famous became members of the Royal Academy—Wilson, Reynolds, and Gainsborough. The story of RICHARD WILSON (1713—1782) is the story of a disappointed man. Born at Pinegas, Montgomeryshire, the son of the parson of that place. Wilson's early taste for drawing attracted the attention of Sir George Wynne, by whom he was introduced to one Wright, a portrait painter in London. Following the popular branch of art in his day, Wilson in due course became a portrait painter, and although nothing remarkable is known of his portraits, he managed to make a living. In 1749 he visited Italy, and whilst waiting for an interview with the landscape painter Zuccarelli he is said to have sketched the view through the open window. The Italian advised the Englishman to devote himself henceforth to landscapes, and Wilson followed his advice. After six years' stay in Italy, during which period he became imbued with the beauties of that country, Wilson returned to England in 1755, and found Zuccarelli worshipped, whilst he himself was neglected. His Niobe, one version of which is in the National Gallery, was exhibited with the Society of Artists' Collection, in Spring Gardens, 1760, and made a great impression, but, in general, his pictures, infinitely superior to the mere decorations of the Italian, were criticised, and compared unfavourably with those of Zuccarelli, and it was not till long after Wilson's death that he was thoroughly appreciated. He was often compelled to sell his pictures to pawnbrokers, who, so it is said, could not sell them again. Poverty and neglect soured the painter's temper, and made him irritable and reckless. He had many enemies, and even Sir Joshua Reynolds treated him with injustice. Wilson was one of the original thirty-six members of the Royal Academy, and in 1776 applied for and obtained the post of Librarian to that body, the small salary helping the struggling man to live. The last years of his life were brightened by better fortune. A brother left him a legacy, and in 1780 Wilson retired to a pleasant home at Llanberis, Carnarvon, where he died two years later. Mr. Redgrave says of him: "There is this praise due to our countryman—that our landscape art, which had heretofore been derived from the meaner school of Holland, following his great example, looked thenceforth to Italy for its inspiration; that he proved the power of native art to compete on this ground also with the art of the foreigner, and prepared the way for the coming men, who, embracing Nature as their mistress, were prepared to leave all and follow her." Wilson frequently repeated his more successful pictures. The Ruins of the Villa of Mæcenas, at Tivoli (National Gallery), was painted five times by him. In the same Gallery are The Destruction of Niobe's Children, A Landscape with Figures, three Views in Italy, Lake Avernus with the Bay of Naples in the distance, &c. In the Duke of Westminster's collection are Apollo and the Seasons and The River Dee. Wilson, like many another man of genius, lived before his time, and was forced one day to ask Barry, the Royal Academician, if he knew any one mad enough to employ a landscape painter, and if so, whether he would recommend him.

Morning. By RICHARD WILSON.
Morning. By RICHARD WILSON.

Singularly unlike Wilson in his fortunes was a painter of the same school, named GEORGE BARRET (1728?—1784), an Irishman, who began life by colouring prints for a Dublin publisher, and became the popular landscape painter of the day, receiving vast sums for his pictures, whilst Wilson could hardly buy bread. Patronised by Burke, who gained him the appointment of Master-Painter to Chelsea Hospital, and receiving for his works £2,000 a year, Barret died poor, and his pictures, once so prized, are neglected, whilst the works of Wilson are now valued as they deserve. Another artist who derived his inspiration from Wilson was JULIUS CÆSAR IBBETSON (1759—1817), who painted landscapes with cattle and figures and rustic incidents with much success.

JOSHUA REYNOLDS (1723—1792) was born at Plympton, Devon, the son of a clergyman who was a master in the grammar school. His father had intended him for a doctor, but nature decided that Joshua Reynolds should be a painter. He preferred to read Richardson's "Treatise on Painting" to any other book, and when his taste for art became manifest he was sent to London to study with Hudson, the popular portrait painter of the day. Before this time, however, the young Reynolds had studied "The Jesuit's Perspective" with such success that he astonished his father by drawing Plympton school. There is at Plymouth a portrait of the Rev. Thomas Smart, tutor in Lord Edgcumbe's household, which is said to have been painted by Reynolds when twelve years old. It was in 1741 that Joshua Reynolds began his studies with Hudson, and as that worthy could teach him little or nothing, it is fortunate for art that the connection only lasted two years. On leaving Hudson's studio Reynolds returned to Devonshire, but we know little about his life there till the year 1746, when his father died, and the painter was established at Plymouth Dock, now Devonport, and was painting portraits. Many of these earlier works betray the stiffness and want of nature which their author had probably learnt from Hudson. Having visited London, and stayed for a time in St. Martin's Lane, the artists' quarter, Reynolds was enabled, in 1749, to realise his great wish, and go abroad. His friend Commodore Keppel carried him to Italy, and Reynolds, unfettered and unspoilt by the mechanical arts of his countrymen, studied the treasures of Italy, chiefly in Rome, and without becoming a copyist, was imbued with the beauties of the Italian school. Michelangelo was the object of his chief adoration, and his name was the most frequently on his lips, and the last in his addresses to the Royal Academy. A love of colour was the characteristic of Reynolds, and his use of brilliant and fugitive pigments accounts for the decay of many of his best works; he used to say jestingly that "he came off with flying colours." Doubtless the wish to rival the colouring of the Venetians led Reynolds to make numerous experiments which were often fatal to the preservation of his pictures. It has been said of him that "he loved his colours as other men love their children." In 1752 Reynolds returned to England, and settled in London, first in St. Martin's Lane, then in Newport Street, and finally in a grand house in Leicester Fields. His course was one of brilliant success. At his house, wit and wisdom met together, and the ponderous learning of Dr. Johnson, the eloquence of Burke, and the fancy of Goldsmith, combined to do honour to the courteous, gentle painter, whom all men loved, and of whom Goldsmith wrote:—

"His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand;
His manners were gentle, complying, and bland.
Still, born to improve us in every part—
His pencil our faces, his manners our heart."

Most of the leaders of the rank and fashion of the day sat for their portraits to the painter who "read souls in faces." In 1768 Joshua Reynolds was chosen first President of the Royal Academy, and was knighted by George III. He succeeded, on the death of Ramsay, to the office of Court Painter. His "Discourses on Painting," delivered at the Royal Academy, were remarkable for their excellent judgment and literary skill. It was supposed by some that Johnson and Burke had assisted Reynolds in the composition of these lectures, but the Doctor indignantly disclaimed such aid, declaring that "Sir Joshua Reynolds would as soon get me to paint for him as to write for him." A lesser honour, though one which caused him the greatest pleasure, was conferred on Reynolds in 1773, when he was elected Mayor of his native Plympton. In the same year he exhibited his famous Strawberry Girl, of which he said that it was "one of the half dozen original things" which no man ever exceeded in his life's work. In 1789 the failure of his sight warned Sir Joshua that "the night cometh when no man can work." He died, full of years and honours, on February 23rd, 1792, and was buried near Sir Christopher Wren in St. Paul's Cathedral.

Mrs. Bradyll. By REYNOLDS. In the possession of Sir Richard Wallace, Bart.
Mrs. Bradyll. By REYNOLDS.
In the possession of Sir Richard Wallace, Bart.

Reynolds was a most untiring worker. He exhibited two hundred and forty-five pictures in the Royal Academy, on an average eleven every year. In the National Gallery are twenty-three of his paintings. Amongst them are The Holy Family (No. 78), The Graces decorating a Terminal Figure of Hymen (79), The Infant Samuel (162), The Snake in the Grass (885), Robinetta (892), and portraits of himself, of Admiral Keppel, Dr. Johnson, Boswell, Lord Heathfield, and George IV. as Prince of Wales. Mr. Ruskin deems Reynolds "one of the seven colourists of the world," and places him with Titian, Giorgione, Correggio, Tintoretto, Veronese, and Turner. He likewise says, "considered as a painter of individuality in the human form and mind, I think him, even as it is, the prince of portrait painters. Titian paints nobler pictures, and Van Dyck had nobler subjects, but neither of them entered so subtly as Sir Joshua did into the minor varieties of heart and temper."[H]

It is as "the prince of portrait painters" that Sir Joshua will be remembered, although he produced more than one hundred and thirty historic or poetic pieces. Messrs. Redgrave, speaking of his powers as an historic painter, declare that "notwithstanding the greatness of Reynolds as a portrait painter, and the beauty of his fancy subjects, he wholly fails as a painter of history. Allowing all that arises from 'colour harmony,' we must assert that, both as to form and character, the characters introduced into these solemn dramas are wholly unworthy to represent the persons of the actors therein." They argue that the Ugolino fails to represent the fierce Count shut up in the Tower of Famine, on the banks of the Arno, and that the children of the Holy Family "for all there is of character and holiness, might change places with the Cupid who fixes his arrow to transfix his nymph." The child who represents The Infant Samuel, delightful as it is, in common with all Sir Joshua Reynolds's children, has nothing to distinguish it as set apart to high and holy offices. We may mention as among the best known of the historic and poetic subjects of this master:—Macbeth and the Witches, Cardinal Beaufort, Hercules strangling the Serpents, painted for the Empress of Russia, and The Death of Dido. Famous, too, as portraits, are Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic Muse (Duke of Westminster's and Dulwich Gallery), Garrick between Tragedy and Comedy, The Strawberry Girl, The Shepherd Boy, The Little Girl in a Mob Cap (Penelope Boothby), The Little Duke, and The Little Marchioness; many others which are scattered in the galleries and chambers of the English nobility and gentry, and which are now frequently seen on the walls of Burlington House as each "Old Masters" Exhibition passes by.

THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH (1727—1788), the son of a clothier, was born at Sudbury, in Suffolk. He early showed taste for art, and would linger among the woods and streams round Sudbury to sketch. Nature was his model, and to this fact we owe the pictures which make him and Wilson the founders of our school of landscape painting. The details of this master's life are few and uneventful. When between fourteen and fifteen years of age, his father sent Thomas Gainsborough to London to study art. His first master was Gravelot, a French engraver of great ability, to whose teaching Gainsborough probably owed much. From him he passed to Hayman in the St. Martin's Lane Academy, a drawing school only. Gainsborough began as a portrait and landscape painter in Hatton Garden, but finding little patronage during four years of his sojourn there, returned to his native town, and presently married Margaret Burr, who had crossed his line of sight when he was sketching a wood. The lady's figure was added to the picture, and in due course became the wife of the artist. For a man so careless as Gainsborough, an early marriage was good, and we owe the preservation of many of his works to the thoughtfulness of his wife. Settling in Ipswich, he began to make a name. Philip Thicknesse, Governor of Landguard Fort, opposite Harwich, became his earliest patron, and officiously maintained a friendship which was often trying to the painter. Gainsborough, at his suggestion, painted a view of Landguard Fort (the picture has perished), which attracted considerable attention. In 1760 he removed to Bath, and found a favourable field for portrait-painting, though landscape was not neglected. Fourteen years later Gainsborough, no longer an unknown artist, came to London and rented part of Schomberg House, Pall Mall. He was now regarded as the rival of Reynolds in portraiture, and of Wilson in landscape. Once, when Reynolds at an Academy Dinner proposed the health of his rival as "the greatest landscape painter of the day," Wilson, who was present, exclaimed, "Yes, and the greatest portrait painter, too." One of the original members of the Royal Academy, Gainsborough exhibited ninety pictures in the Gallery, but refused to contribute after 1783, because a portrait of his was not hung as he wished. A quick-tempered, impulsive man, he had many disputes with Reynolds, though none of them were of a very bitter kind. Gainsborough's Blue Boy is commonly said to have been painted in spite against Reynolds, in order to disprove the President's statement that blue ought not to be used in masses. But there were other and worthier reasons for the production of this celebrated work, in respect to which Gainsborough followed his favourite Van Dyck in displaying "a large breadth of cool light supporting the flesh." It is pleasant to think of the kindly minded painter enjoying music with his friends; and, rewarding some of them more lavishly than wisely, he is said to have given The Boy at the Stile to Colonel Hamilton, in return for his performance on the violin. It is pleasant, too, to know that whatever soreness of feeling existed between him and Sir Joshua, passed away before he died. When the President of the Royal Academy came to his dying bed, Gainsborough declared his reconciliation, and said, "We are all going to heaven, and Van Dyck is of the company." This was in 1788. Gainsborough was buried at Kew. The Englishness of his landscapes makes Gainsborough popular. Wilson had improved on the Dutch type by visiting Italy, but Gainsborough sought no other subjects than his own land afforded. Nature speaks in his portraits or from his landscapes, and his rustic children excel those of Reynolds, because they are really sun-browned peasants, not fine ladies and gentlemen masquerading in the dresses of villagers. Mr. Ruskin says of Gainsborough, "His power of colour (it is mentioned by Sir Joshua as his peculiar gift) is capable of taking rank beside that of Rubens; he is the purest colourist—Sir Joshua himself not excepted—of the whole English school; with him, in fact, the art of painting did in great part die, and exists not now in Europe. I hesitate not to say that in the management and quality of single and particular tints, in the purely technical part of painting, Turner is a child to Gainsborough."

Mrs. Siddons. By GAINSBOROUGH. A.D. 1784. In the National Gallery.
Mrs. Siddons. By GAINSBOROUGH. A.D 1784.
In the National Gallery.

Among the most popular pictures by this great master are The Blue Boy, The Shepherd Boy in the Shower, The Cottage Door, The Cottage Girl with Dog and Pitcher, The Shepherd Boys with their Dogs fighting, The Woodman and his Dog in the Storm (burnt at Eaton Park, engraved by Simon, and copied in needlework by Miss Linwood). There are thirteen pictures by Gainsborough in the National Gallery, including The Market Cart, The Watering Place, Musidora, Portraits of Mrs. Siddons, and Orpin, the Parish Clerk of Bradford-on-Avon. In the Royal Collection at Windsor are seventeen life-size heads of the sons and daughters of George III., of which, say the Messrs. Redgrave, "it is hardly possible to speak too highly."

We may here fittingly mention a contemporary of Gainsborough, Hugh Robinson (about 1760—1790), who only gained a tardy though well-merited right to rank among England's portrait painters by the exhibition at the "Old Masters," in 1881, of his Portrait of Thomas Teesdale, which was followed in the next exhibition by the Piping Boy. The remainder of the works of this talented young Yorkshireman—who exhibited but three pictures at the Royal Academy (in 1780 and 1782), and who died on his way home from Italy, whither he had gone to study art—are chiefly family portraits. The two mentioned above best display his happy blending of landscape and portraiture, and, though somewhat recalling the manner of Gainsborough, are full of natural talent.

CHAPTER V.

THE PROGRESS OF ENGLISH ART IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

IT will here be convenient to notice briefly some foreign painters who worked in England in the middle of the eighteenth century.

GIOVANNI BATTISTA CIPRIANI, R.A. (1727—1785), a Florentine, came to London in 1755 and remained here, gaining a great reputation as an historic painter at a time when foreign artists were specially popular. He was one of the original members of the Royal Academy, and designed the diploma of that body. To Cipriani the English school owes some refinement tempering the rough originality of Hogarth, but his art, "the worn-out and effete art of modern Italy," left few permanent traces on that of England.

ANGELICA KAUFFMAN, R.A. (1740—1807), a native of Schwartzenberg, in Austria, came to London in 1765, and, aided by fashion and the patronage of Queen Charlotte, became prominent in the art world. Her romantic and sad fortunes added to her popularity. "Her works were gay and pleasing in colour, yet weak and faulty in drawing, her male figures particularly wanting in bone and individuality." (Redgrave.) Her pictures were often engraved in her own days, but they are now thought little of. A specimen of Angelica Kauffman's work may be seen in the ceiling of the Council Chamber of the Royal Academy, of which she was a member; another is in the National Gallery.

JOHANN ZOFFANY, R.A. (1733—1810), was born at Frankfort, and on his first arrival in England met with little success. He was, however, one of the original Royal Academicians, and was patronised by George III., whose portrait he painted, together with those of many members of the Royal family. As a portrait painter Zoffany was truthful, natural, and unaffected, and his influence for good was not lost on the art of his adopted country. In 1783 he went to India, where he remained fifteen years, painting pictures of incident, of which The Indian Tiger Hunt is an example; works produced after his return to England are less interesting than these.

FRANCESCO ZUCCARELLI, R.A. (1702—1788), born in Tuscany, has already been mentioned as advising Wilson to cultivate landscape-painting. After becoming famous abroad, he came to London in 1752, and secured a fortune, whilst Wilson, his superior, was too poor to buy a canvas to paint on. Zuccarelli's landscapes and rural villages are of the stage rather than nature. He was the last of that artificial school of painters who tried to paint a beautiful world without looking out of doors.

PHILIPPE JAMES DE LOUTHERBOURG, R.A. (1740—1812), a native of Strasburg, studied in Paris, under Casanova, the battle-painter. He acquired fame by delineating landscapes, battles, and marine subjects, and was already a member of the French Academy when he came to England in 1771. For a time De Loutherbourg was employed as a scene-painter at Drury Lane, receiving a salary of £500 a year from Garrick. His scenery was extremely meritorious, effective, and popular, but he too frequently obtruded scenic characteristics into his other pictures. He was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy in 1780, and a full member in the following year. Becoming somewhat deranged in his latter days, he assumed the gift of prophecy, and pretended to cure diseases. He was buried at Chiswick, near Hogarth. De Loutherbourg was a clever draughtsman, but neglected nature. Peter Pindar laughed at his "brass skies, and golden hills," and his "marble bullocks in glass pastures grazing." Nevertheless Turner owned great obligations to him, and he succeeded in varying the aims of landscape painters, and gave what may be called animation and dramatic expression to their art. His best-known works are, Lord Howe's Victory on the 1st of June, The Fire of London, The Siege of Valenciennes, A Lake Scene in Cumberland (National Gallery), Warley Common (Windsor Castle). The Eidophusicon was a moving diorama in Spring Gardens, painted by De Loutherbourg, which "all the world went to see."

HENRY FUSELI, or more correctly, Fuessli (1741—1825), born at Zürich, exercised very considerable influence on English art by his pictures and lectures. He was a scholar as well as a painter, and had been educated for the church. On first coming to England Fuseli turned his attention to literature, but was advised by Sir Joshua Reynolds, who had seen his sketches, to cultivate art. When nearly thirty years old he went to Italy, where, like Reynolds, his chief devotions were paid to the shrine of Michelangelo. Returning to England after eight years' absence, Fuseli made his first decided mark by The Nightmare, painted three years after his return. It is said that fully to realise the horrors of this subject the enthusiastic Swiss supped on raw pork! In 1786, Alderman Boydell, a successful engraver and art publisher, proposed a Shakespeare Gallery, with the view of proving that England contained really good painters of history. Fuseli executed nine out of the eighty-six examples in this gallery. His studies of the works of Michelangelo fitted him for the just treatment of the subjects, including Hamlet and the Ghost, and Lear and Cordelia. It has been objected that his men are all of one race, whether in reality classic, mediæval, or Scandinavian, and that Shakespeare's women are, in his pictures, all alike, too masculine and coarse. Shakespeare is thoroughly English in taste and character, and his men and women, even if represented in Verona, or Prospero's Isle, are still English in heart. Fuseli was scarcely able to enter into this characteristic of our greatest poet. He was more at home with the majestic creations of Milton, to which he next turned his thoughts. He projected a Milton Gallery of forty-seven large pictures, which, however, was not a financial success, therefore in 1780 Fuseli complained that the public would feed him with honour, but leave him to starve. He became a Royal Academician, and Professor of Painting, a post which he held till his death.

Titania and Bottom. By Fuseli. In the possession of Mr. Carrick Moore.
Titania and Bottom. By Fuseli. In the possession of Mr. Carrick Moore.

 

In proceeding to speak of artists of the English school, we must remember that we have not to deal with men gathered round a great master, as is the case with many foreign painters. Each English artist has originality, and stands by himself. It will be most convenient therefore to treat them according to the special branch of art which they severally followed, i.e. Historic, Portrait, Landscape, or Animal painting. HISTORICAL PAINTING had hitherto found little favour in England, nor were the pictures produced in that line worthy of much regard. Reynolds attempted it in Ugolino and the Infant Hercules, but it is not by means of such pictures he will be remembered. There were others who devoted themselves to what they styled high art, with earnestness worthy of greater success than they achieved.

Death of Wolfe. By WEST. In the possession of the Duke of Westminster.
Death of Wolfe. By WEST. In the possession of the Duke of Westminster.

BENJAMIN WEST (1738—1820) was born at Springfield, Pennsylvania, and of Quaker parents who descended from a Buckinghamshire family of the same persuasion. He early showed signs of artistic genius, and strange stories have been told of the precocity of the child. West received his first colours from Indians, and made his first paint-brush from a cat's tail. A box of colours, given by a merchant when he was nine years old, encouraged him to persevere; and we know that the donor of the box introduced him to a painter named Williams, of Philadelphia, from whom he derived instruction. West started in life at eighteen as a portrait painter; first at Philadelphia, then at New York. In 1760, he visited Italy, and, after remaining there three years, proceeded to England. He had intended to return to America, but became so successful that he settled in London. In Rome the young American created a sensation, and the blind Cardinal Albani, whose acquaintance with Americans must have been limited, asked if he was black or white. In London West was greatly sought after, and in 1766, three years after his arrival, he finished Orestes and Pylades (National Gallery); his house was besieged by the fashionable world, eager for a glimpse of the picture. West now found many patrons, among them the Bishops of Bristol and Worcester, and Drummond, Archbishop of York. The Archbishop was so charmed by Agrippa with the Ashes of Germanicus, that he introduced West to George III., who became a warm and faithful supporter of the artist. From 1767 to 1802 West was almost exclusively employed by the King, and received large sums of money. He was one of the original members of the Royal Academy, and on the death of Reynolds, became President. His inaugural address, which, like all he did, was highly praised, had two subjects—the excellence of British art and the gracious benevolence of his Majesty. The illness of George III. put an end to West's attendance at Court, and he proceeded into a wider field of art, choosing that of religion. Here he was more successful than in many of his former pictures, as in Christ healing the Sick (National Gallery), Christ rejected, and Death on the Pale Horse. He died on the 11th of March, 1820, aged eighty-two. West, so popular in the days of George III., is utterly neglected now. If he aimed at being great, he succeeded only in the size of his pictures. A cold, passionless mediocrity was the highest point to which he attained, and of his pictures we may say as the old Scotsman said of Rob Roy, that they are "too bad for blessing, and too good for banning." Redgrave says: "His compositions were more studied than natural, the action often conventional and dramatic; the draperies, although learned, heavy and without truth. His colour often wants freshness and variety of tint, and is hot and foxy." We owe to West, however, the example of courage in attempting great religious subjects, and in departing from the absurd custom of representing the warriors of all nations clad like ancient Romans. In his Death of Wolfe, West insisted, contrary to the advice of Reynolds, in painting his soldiers in their proper dress.

JOHN SINGLETON COPLEY, R.A. (1737—1815), was born at Boston, America, then one of our colonies, his father being English and his mother Irish. Boston in those days could offer no facilities for art-education, but Copley went to Nature—the best of teachers. He commenced with portraits and domestic life, and between 1760 and 1767 sent pictures to London, where they excited considerable interest. In 1774, he visited the Old World, first England, then Italy, and finally settled in London in 1775. In the following year he exhibited a "conversation" piece at the Royal Academy, and was elected an Associate in 1777. In 1778, William Pitt, Earl of Chatham, whilst speaking in the House of Lords against the practice of taxing our colonists without their consent, was seized with a fatal illness. This incident, specially interesting to an American, suggested The Death of the Earl of Chatham (National Gallery), which at once raised the painter to a high place in the ranks of British artists. The popularity of Copley was greatly owing to his choice of subjects. Instead of dealing with ancient history or classic fables, with which the general public was but imperfectly acquainted, he selected events of the day, or of modern times, and contrived to combine portraiture, ever popular in England, with the dramatic incidents of his pictures. Copley was made a full member of the Royal Academy in 1779, and maintained his popularity by The Death of Major Peirson (National Gallery)—which represents an attack of the French on St. Helier's, Jersey, in 1781, and the fall of young Major Peirson in the moment of his victory. Following the path thus wisely selected, Copley produced Charles I. ordering the Arrest of the Five Members, The Repulse of the Spanish Floating Batteries at Gibraltar by Lord Heathfield (painted for the City of London, now in the Guildhall), The Assassination of Buckingham, The Battle of the Boyne, &c. He exhibited only forty-two works in the Royal Academy, all of which were portraits except The Offer of the Crown to Lady Jane Grey, and The Resurrection. In sacred subjects, Copley was far less successful than in the particular style of art to which he mainly adhered. His son became famous as Lord Chancellor Lyndhurst.

Death of Major Peirson. By COPLEY. A.D. 1783. In the National Gallery.
Death of Major Peirson. By COPLEY. A.D 1783. In the National Gallery.

Mercury inventing the Lyre. By BARRY.
Mercury inventing the Lyre. By BARRY.

JAMES BARRY, R.A. (1741—1806), who was a contemporary of Benjamin West, and, like him, aimed at high art, formed a marked contrast to the favourite painter of George III. Whilst West was well fed and well clothed, rich, easy-tempered, and happy, Barry was often ragged, sometimes starving, always poor, and seldom out of a passion. He was born at Cork, the son of a small coasting trader who kept a tavern. From such uncongenial surroundings Barry made his way to Dublin, and exhibited The Baptism of the King of Cashel by St. Patrick. This work attracted considerable notice, and secured for the artist the patronage of Burke, who sent him to Italy. This was in 1765, but previously to this date Barry had already visited London, and lived by copying in oil the drawings of "Athenian Stuart," the Serjeant-Painter who succeeded Hogarth. Barry's studies in Italy confirmed his ambitious design to become a painter of high art subjects. With characteristic boldness he entered the field against the greatest masters, and whilst at Rome painted Adam and Eve, which he thought superior to Raphael's masterpiece of the same subject. Returning to England in 1770, Barry exhibited this picture, and began Venus rising from the Sea, which was exhibited in 1772; he was elected a R.A. in the following year. His undisciplined temper ensured him many enemies, and estranged his few friends; he even quarrelled with Burke. His pride and courage were indomitable, and he worked on through good and ill reports, never swerving from the course he had marked out, and contemptuously dismissing any chance sitter for a portrait to "the fellow in Leicester Square," as he styled Sir Joshua Reynolds. In 1777, Barry undertook to paint in the Great Room of the Society of Arts at the Adelphi a series of pictures illustrating Human Culture. He had previously offered to decorate the interior of St. Paul's. He began to work at the Adelphi with sixteen shillings in his pocket, and toiled there during seven years, being often in absolute want. The Society provided him with models and materials only, and Barry was to receive the proceeds of exhibiting his work in return for his unpaid labours. The hope of fame enabled "the little ordinary man with the dirty shirt" to support himself through the long years of want and semi-starvation, whilst he was working for the glory which never came. Barry finished the pictures at the Adelphi in 1783, and called them severally The Story of Orpheus: A Thanksgiving to Ceres and Bacchus; The Victors of Olympia; Navigation, or the Triumph of the Thames; Distribution of Premiums in the Society of Arts; and Elysium, or the State of Final Retribution. The luckless artist had been appointed Professor of Painting at the Royal Academy in 1772, but outbursts of passion and furious attacks on his brethren led to his removal from the post, and, in 1779, to his expulsion from the Academy. He died miserably, in 1806, at the wretched house he called a home, and the honours which had never blossomed for the living man were bestowed on the corpse, which lay in state at the Adelphi, surrounded by the work of his hands. He was buried in St. Paul's. "There he rests side by side with the great ones of his profession. Posterity had reversed the positions of West and his competitor, the first is last, and the last first; but it was hardly to be expected that the young would be anxious to follow Barry in a line of art in which neither ability nor perseverance seemed to succeed, or to start in a career for which not even princely patronage could obtain public sympathy, nor innate genius, with life-long devotion, win present fame, hardly indeed a bare subsistence." (Redgrave.)

Returning for a moment to Portrait Painters, we find two of that class who were contemporary with Sir Joshua Reynolds, and of whom the first nearly equalled the president in popularity.

Marquis of Stafford. By ROMNEY. In the possession of the Duke of Sutherland.
Marquis of Stafford. By ROMNEY.
In the possession of the Duke of Sutherland.

GEORGE ROMNEY (1734—1802) was born near Dalton-in-Furness, North Lancashire, and for some years followed his father's craft of cabinet-making. The story of his life is one of marked success and singular selfishness. He first studied art with Edward Steele, of Kendal, a portrait painter of some skill and reputation, who had painted Sterne. Whilst assisting his master to elope with his future wife, Romney fell ill, and was nursed by young Mary Abbot. He rewarded the devotion of his nurse by marrying her, and when she was the mother of two children, by leaving her at home poor and alone, whilst he was rich and famous in London. During a long and successful career Romney only visited his family twice, to find on the second occasion his daughter dead, and his son grown up and in Holy Orders. The painter's strange, selfish life ended in imbecility, and the patient wife who had nursed the youth of twenty-three, soothed the last hours of the man of seventy, whose fame she had never shared. Romney was as eccentric in life as in his genius. Shunning the society of his fellow artists, he complained of their neglect, and refused to enter the Royal Academy. It was said of Sterne that "he would shed tears over a dead donkey whilst he left a living mother to starve." In like manner Romney wrote gushing words of sympathy for the widow of another man, whilst his own wife had been practically widowed for more than thirty years. Of the intercourse of Romney with the fair and frail Emma Lyon, who, as Lady Hamilton, exercised an influence for evil over him and over Nelson, it is not our province to speak. The fitful temper of the painter led him to begin numerous pictures he never finished, cart-loads of which were removed from his house at Hampstead. Romney's want of steadfastness often compelled him to abandon works of which the conception was greater than the power to carry it out. There was a want of thoroughness about him, and even the pictures which he finished seemed incomplete to those who did not understand them. Noteworthy among these are Ophelia, The Infant Shakespeare, and The Shipwreck, from "The Tempest." His portraits, however, form the greater class of his productions. In the National Gallery are Study of Lady Hamilton as a Bacchante, and The Parson's Daughter. "We may sum up all that is to be said of Romney in this: that whatever he did Reynolds had done much better; that his art did not advance the taste of the age, or the reputation of the school, and that it is quite clear, however fashion or faction may have upheld him in his own day, the succeeding race of painters owed little or nothing to his teaching." (Redgrave.) A harsh and unsympathizing judgment. Truer is it that he never offended the finest taste in art, that he was a very fair draughtsman, a sound and accomplished painter, who delineated ladies with the taste of a Greek, and children with exemplary sweetness.

JOSEPH WRIGHT (1734—1797) is, from his birth-place, commonly known as Wright of Derby. Quitting his native town, where his father was an attorney, he reached London in 1751 and became a pupil of Hudson, the portrait painter. Wright aimed at historical painting, but his works are chiefly single portraits, and conversation pieces. After revisiting Derby, he returned to Hudson's studio for a while, and then settled in his native town, where he practised his art with success. He often represented candle-light and fire-light effects, as may be seen in The Orrery, The Iron Forge, and The Experiment with the Air-Pump (National Gallery). Marrying in 1773, Wright went with his wife to Italy and remained there two years. He witnessed an eruption of Mount Vesuvius, and painted that event with success, as well as the display of fire-works at the Castle of St. Angelo, at Rome, which is known as the Girandola. Returning to England, Wright painted at first at Bath; but being unsuccessful, he returned to Derby, where he died in 1797. He contributed a few works to the Royal Academy after quitting Italy; Vesuvius, and the Girandola were exhibited there in 1778. Wright was elected an Associate in 1782, but removed his name from the Academy books two years later. This step was taken either because Edmund Garvey, a landscape painter, was elected a R.A. before him, or because Wright had refused to comply with one of the Academy rules, and present works to the society before receiving his diploma. He was said to be a shy, irritable man, always ill, or fancying himself so, and ready to take offence easily. Such are the unconfirmed statements of the advocates of the Academy. He painted landscapes in his latter days, The Head of Ulleswater was his last picture. Best known among his works are The dead Soldier, Belshazzar's Feast, Hero and Leander, The Storm (from "Winter's Tale"), and Cicero's Villa. Wright's most remarkable fire-light effects are The Hermit, The Gladiator, The Indian Widow, The Orrery, and, already mentioned, the Air-Pump. Like Hogarth and Copley, he painted in that solid old English method which insured the preservation of his works. "On the whole it cannot be said that Wright's pictures have added much to the reputation of the British school. As a portrait painter he is hardly in the second rank." His portraits have a heavy look; of his landscapes it has been averred that "they are large and simple in manner, but heavy and empty."

THE SUCCESSORS OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.

Portrait-painting, always popular in England, continued to flourish after the deaths of Reynolds and Gainsborough. Although the magic touches of these masters cannot be found in the art of their immediate followers, their influence produced several original and independent artists, who, though successors, were not imitators.

NATHANIEL DANCE (1734—1811) studied art under Frank Hayman, R.A., and visited Italy with Angelica Kauffman. Returning to England he achieved success as a painter, both of portraits and historic pieces. He was one of the original members of the Royal Academy, from which he retired in 1790, on marrying a wealthy widow: he took the name of Holland and was made a baronet ten years later. His best-known works are the Death of Virginia, Garrick as Richard III., Timon of Athens (Royal Collection) and Captain Cook (Greenwich Hospital).

JAMES NORTHCOTE (1746—1831), the son of a watchmaker of Plymouth, spent seven years as an apprentice to his father's craft, all the while longing to be a painter. He was a man of indefatigable industry, who, in spite of a defective education and few opportunities for improvement, made his mark both as an artist and a writer on art. He was the favourite pupil of Sir Joshua Reynolds and his first biographer. Leaving Reynolds in 1775, Northcote returned to Devonshire, and for two years successfully painted portraits. From 1777 to 1780 he was in Italy studying the old masters, especially Titian. He settled in London on returning home, and maintained himself by portrait-painting. He was, however, ambitious to succeed with historic pictures, though compelled to confine himself to more saleable subjects, such as A Visit to Grandmamma, and similar domestic scenes. Boydell's Shakespeare Gallery gave Northcote a new opening in the line he yearned to practise. Among nine pictures produced for this series, that of the Murder of the Young Princes in the Tower, painted in 1786, brought the artist prominently into notice. The Death of Wat Tyler, now in Guildhall, London, is one of his best works. His Diligent and Dissipated Servants, a series suggested by Hogarth's Idle and Industrious Apprentices, falls very far below the standard of the original series. Noteworthy facts in Northcote's historic pictures are the incongruity of the dresses, and frequent gross anachronisms. Thus we have Sisera lying on a feather bed and attired like a trooper of Cromwell's Ironsides, and Jael dressed like a modern maid-of-all-work. In the Shakespearian pictures Hubert of the thirteenth century, and Richard III. of the fifteenth century, alike wear the dress of Elizabeth's day. Wat Tyler and the murderers in the Tower wear the same armour, which belongs to the Stuart period. Such mistakes, however, were common among all painters of his time.

Charity. By NORTHCOTE. A.D. 1783.
Charity. By NORTHCOTE. A.D 1783.

JOHN OPIE (1761—1807), the rival and friend of Northcote, was like him a West countryman, and like him rose from the ranks. Born at St. Agnes, near Truro, the son of a carpenter, Opie early showed intelligence and quickness in acquiring knowledge which marked him out for a higher sphere than a carpenter's shop. After evincing taste for art, and disgusting his father by decorating a saw-pit with chalk, he found patrons in Lord Bateman and Dr. Wolcot, the famous Peter Pindar. Some biographers have described Opie as becoming the doctor's footboy, but this is a mistake. Walcot brought the young painter to London and introduced him to Sir Joshua Reynolds, but the selfish patronage of the doctor soon came to an end. Opie was at first vigorously advertised in London as "the Cornish Wonder"—