And he then dwells on various details,—the bones, the skin, the flesh, the eyes living and seeing, the moistened lips, the chin covered with a beard unshaven for many days, and the hair in all its forms.

Between the rival portraits by Nanteuil and Edelinck it is unnecessary to decide. Each is beautiful. In looking at them we recognize anew the transient honors of public service. The present fame of Champagne surpasses that of Pomponne. The artist outlives the magistrate. But does not the poet tell us that “the artist never dies”?

As Edelinck passed from the scene the family of Drevet appeared, especially the son, Pierre Imbert Drevet, born in 1697, who developed a rare excellence, improving even upon the technics of his predecessor, and gilding his refined gold. The son was born engraver, for at the age of thirteen he produced an engraving of exceeding merit. Like Masson he manifested a singular skill in rendering different substances by the effect of light, and at the same time gave to flesh a softness and transparency which remain unsurpassed. To these he added great richness in picturing costumes and drapery, especially in lace.

He was eminently a portrait engraver, which I must insist is the highest form of the art, as the human face is the most important object for its exercise. Less clear and simple than Nanteuil, and less severe than Edelinck, he gave to the face individuality of character, and made his works conspicuous in Art. If there was excess in the accessories, it was before the age of Sartor Resartus, and he only followed the prevailing style in the popular paintings of Hyacinthe Rigaud. Art in all its forms had become florid, if not meretricious; and Drevet was a representative of his age.

Among his works are important masterpieces. I name only Bossuet, the famed Eagle of Meaux; Samuel Bernard, the rich Councillor of State; Fénelon, the persuasive teacher and writer; Cardinal Dubois, the unprincipled minister and favorite of the Regent of France; and Adrienne Le Couvreur, the beautiful and unfortunate actress, linked in love with Marshal Saxe. The portrait of Bossuet has everything to attract and charm. There stands the powerful defender of the Catholic Church, master of French style, and most renowned pulpit orator of France, in episcopal robes, with abundant lace, which is the perpetual envy of the fair who look at this transcendent effort. The ermine of Dubois is exquisite; but the general effect of this portrait does not compare with the Bossuet, next to which, in fascination, I put the Adrienne. At her death the actress could not be buried in consecrated ground; but through Art she has the perpetual companionship of the greatest bishop of France.

With the younger Drevet closed the classical period of portraits in engraving, as just before had closed the Augustan age of French literature. Louis the Fourteenth decreed engraving a Fine Art, and established an Academy for its cultivation. Pride and ostentation in the king and the great aristocracy created a demand, which the genius of the age supplied. The heights that had been reached could not be maintained. There were eminent engravers still, but the zenith had been passed. Balechou, who belonged to the reign of Louis the Fifteenth, and Beauvarlet, whose life was protracted beyond the Reign of Terror, both produced portraits of merit. The former is noted for a certain clearness and brilliancy, but with a hardness as of brass or marble, and without entire accuracy of design; the latter has much softness of manner. They were the best artists of France at the time, but none of their portraits are famous. To these may be added another contemporary artist, without predecessor or successor, Étienne Ficquet, unduly disparaged in one of the dictionaries as “a reputable French engraver,” but undoubtedly remarkable for small portraits, not unlike miniatures, of exquisite finish. Among these the rarest and most admired are La Fontaine, Madame de Maintenon, Rubens, and Van Dyck.

Two other engravers belong to this intermediate period, although not French in origin,—Georg Friedrich Schmidt, born at Berlin, 1712, and Johann Georg Wille, born near the small town of Königsberg, in the Grand Duchy of Hesse-Darmstadt, 1717, but, attracted to Paris, they became the greatest engravers of the time. Their work is French, and they are the natural development of that classical school.

Schmidt was the son of a poor weaver, and lost six precious years as a soldier in the artillery at Berlin. Owing to the smallness of his size he was at length dismissed, when he surrendered to a natural talent for engraving. Arriving at Strasburg, on his way to Paris, he fell in with Wille, who joined him in his journey, and eventually in his studies. The productions of Schmidt show ability, originality, and variety, rather than taste. His numerous portraits are excellent, being free and life-like, while the accessories of embroidery and drapery are rendered with effect. As an etcher he ranks next after Rembrandt. Of his portraits executed with the graver, that of the Empress Elizabeth of Russia is usually called the most important, perhaps on account of the imperial theme,—and next, those of Count Rasoumowsky, Count Esterhazy, and Mounsey, Court Physician, which he engraved while in St. Petersburg, whither he was called by the Empress, founding there the Academy of Engraving. But his real masterpieces are unquestionably Pierre Mignard and La Tour, French painters, the latter represented laughing.

Wille lived to old age, not dying till 1808. During this long life he was active in the art to which he inclined naturally. His mastery of the graver was perfect, lending itself especially to the representation of satin and metal, although less happy with flesh. His Satin Gown, or L’Instruction Paternelle, after Terburg, and Les Musiciens Ambulants, after Dietrich, are always admired. Nothing of the kind in engraving is finer. His style was adapted to pictures of the Dutch school, and to portraits with rich surroundings. Of the latter the principal are Comte de Saint-Florentin, Marquis Poisson de Marigny, Jean de Boullongne, and Cardinal de Tencin.

Especially eminent was Wille as a teacher. Under his influence the art assumed new life, so that he became father of the modern school. His scholars spread everywhere, and among them are acknowledged masters. He was teacher of Bervic, whose portrait of Louis the Sixteenth in his coronation robes is of a high order, himself teacher of the Italian Toschi, who, after an eminent career, died as late as 1858; also teacher of P. A. Tardieu, himself teacher of the brilliant Desnoyers, whose portrait of the Emperor Napoleon in his coronation robes is the fit complement to that of Louis the Sixteenth; also teacher of the German, J. G. von Müller, himself father and teacher of J. F. W. von Müller, engraver of the Sistine Madonna, in a plate whose great fame is not above its merit; also teacher of the Italian Vangelisti, himself teacher of the unsurpassed Longhi, in whose school were Anderloni and Jesi. Thus not only by his works, but by his famous scholars, did the humble gunsmith gain sway in Art.

Among portraits of this school deserving especial mention is that of King Jerome of Westphalia, brother of Napoleon, by the two Müllers above named, where the genius of the artists is most conspicuous, although the subject contributes little. As in the case of the Palace of the Sun, described by Ovid, “materiam superabat opus.”[165] This work is a beautiful example of skill in representation of fur and lace, not yielding even to Drevet.

Longhi was a universal master, and his portraits are only part of his work. That of Washington, which is rare, is evidently founded on Stuart’s painting, but after a design of his own, which is now in the possession of the Swiss Consul at Venice. The artist particularizes the hair, as being modelled after the French master Masson.[166] The portraits of Michel Angelo and Dandolo, the venerable Doge of Venice, are admired; so also is the Napoleon as King of Italy, with the iron crown and finest lace. But his chief portrait is that of Eugène Beauharnais, Viceroy of Italy, full length, remarkable for the plume in the cap, which is finished with surpassing skill.

Contemporary with Longhi was another Italian engraver of widely extended fame, who was not the product of the French school,—Raffaello Morghen, born at Portici in 1761. His works have enjoyed a popularity beyond those of other masters, partly from the interest of their subjects, and partly from their soft and captivating style, although they do not possess the graceful power of Nanteuil and Edelinck, and are without variety. He was scholar and son-in-law of Volpato, of Rome, himself scholar of Wagner, of Venice, whose homely round faces were not high models in Art. The Aurora of Guido and the Last Supper of Leonardo da Vinci stand high in engraving, especially the latter, which occupied Morghen three years. Of his two hundred and fifty-four works no less than eighty-five are portraits, among which are the Italian poets,—Dante, Petrarc, Ariosto, Tasso, also Boccaccio,—and a head called Raphael, but supposed to be that of Bindo Altoviti, the great painter’s friend,[167] and especially the Duke of Moncada on horseback, after Van Dyck, which has received warm praise. But none of his portraits is calculated to give greater pleasure than that of Leonardo da Vinci, which may vie in beauty even with the famous Pomponne. Here is the beauty of years and of serene intelligence. Looking at that tranquil countenance, it is easy to imagine the large and various capacities which made him not only painter, but sculptor, architect, musician, poet, discoverer, philosopher, even predecessor of Galileo and Bacon. Such a character deserves the immortality of Art. Happily, an old Venetian engraving, reproduced in our day,[168] enables us to see this same countenance at an earlier period of life with sparkle in the eye.

Raffaello Morghen left no scholars who have followed him in portraits; but his own works are still regarded, and a monument in Santa Croce, the Westminster Abbey of Florence, places him among the mighty dead of Italy.

Thus far nothing has been said of English engravers. Here, as in Art generally, England seems removed from the rest of the world,—“Et penitus toto divisos orbe Britannos.”[169] But though beyond the sphere of Continental Art, the island of Shakespeare was not inhospitable to some of its representatives. Van Dyck, Rubens, Sir Peter Lely, and Sir Godfrey Kneller, all Dutch artists, painted the portraits of Englishmen, and engraving was first illustrated by foreigners. Jacob Houbraken, another Dutch artist, born in 1698, was employed to execute portraits for Birch’s “Heads of Illustrious Persons of Great Britain,” published at London in 1743; and in these works may be seen the æsthetic taste inherited from his father, (the biographer of the Dutch artists,[170]) and improved by study of the French masters. Although without great force or originality of manner, many of these have positive beauty. I would name especially the Sir Walter Raleigh and John Dryden.

Different in style was Bartolozzi, the Italian, who made his home in England for forty years, ending in 1805, when he removed to Lisbon. The considerable genius which he possessed was spoiled by haste in execution, superseding that care which is an essential condition of Art. Hence sameness in his work, and indifference to the picture he copied. Longhi speaks of him as “most unfaithful to his archetypes,” and, “whatever the originals, being always Bartolozzi.”[171] Among his portraits of especial interest are several old wigs, as Mansfield and Thurlow; also the Death of Chatham, after the picture of Copley in the Vernon Gallery. But his prettiest piece undoubtedly is Mary, Queen of Scots, with her little Son, James the First, after what Mrs. Jameson calls “the lovely picture by Zuccaro at Chiswick.”[172] In the same style are his vignettes, which are of acknowledged beauty.

Meanwhile a Scotchman, honorable in Art, comes upon the scene,—Sir Robert Strange, born in the distant Orkneys in 1721, who abandoned the law for engraving. As a youthful Jacobite he joined the Pretender in 1745, sharing the disaster of Culloden, and owing his safety from pursuers to a young lady dressed in the ample costume of the period, whom he afterwards married in gratitude, and they were both happy. He has a style of his own, rich, soft, and especially charming in the tints of flesh, making him a natural translator of Titian. His most celebrated engravings are doubtless the Venus and the Danaë after the great Venetian colorist; but the Cleopatra, though less famous, is not inferior in merit. His acknowledged masterpiece is the Madonna of St. Jerome, called “The Day,” after the picture by Correggio in the Gallery of Parma; but his portraits after Van Dyck are not less fine, while they are more interesting,—as Charles the First, with a large hat, by the side of his horse, which the Marquis of Hamilton is holding; and that of the same monarch standing in his ermine robes; also the three royal children, with two King Charles spaniels at their feet; also Henrietta Maria, the Queen of Charles. That with the ermine robes is supposed to have been studied by Raffaello Morghen, called sometimes an imitator of Strange.[173] To these I would add the rare autograph portrait of the engraver, being a small head after Greuzé, which is simple and beautiful.

One other name will close this catalogue. It is that of William Sharp, who was born at London in 1746, and died there in 1824. Though last in order, this engraver may claim kindred with the best. His first essays were the embellishment of pewter pots, from which he ascended to the heights of Art, showing a power rarely equalled. Without any instance of peculiar beauty, his works are constant in character and expression, with every possible excellence of execution: face, form, drapery,—all are as in Nature. His splendid qualities appear in the Doctors of the Church, which has taken its place as the first of English engravings. It is after the picture of Guido, once belonging to the Houghton Gallery, which in an evil hour for English taste was allowed to enrich the collection of the Hermitage at St. Petersburg; and I remember well that this engraving by Sharp was one of the few ornaments in the drawing-room of Macaulay when I last saw him, shortly before his lamented death. Next to the Doctors of the Church is his Lear in the Storm, after the picture by West, now in the Boston Athenæum, and his Sortie from Gibraltar, after the picture by Trumbull, also in the Boston Athenæum. Thus, through at least two of his masterpieces whose originals are among us, is our country associated with this great artist.

It is of portraits especially that I write, and here Sharp is truly eminent. All he did was well done; but two are models,—that of Mr. Boulton, a strong, well-developed country gentleman, admirably executed, and of John Hunter, the eminent surgeon, after the painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds, in the London College of Surgeons, unquestionably the foremost portrait in English Art, and the coëqual companion of the great portraits in the past; but here the engraver united his rare gifts with those of the painter.

In closing these sketches I would have it observed that this is no attempt to treat of engraving generally, or of prints in their mass or types. The present subject is simply Portraits, and I stop now just as we arrive at contemporary examples, abroad and at home, with the gentle genius of Mandel beginning to ascend the sky, and our own engravers appearing on the horizon. There is also a new and kindred art, infinite in value, where the Sun himself becomes artist, with works which mark an epoch.

Washington, 11th Dec., 1871.

EQUALITY BEFORE THE LAW PROTECTED BY NATIONAL STATUTE.

INTRODUCTION.

Does not the Act before us in its body propose a measure of reconciliation? Clemency and amnesty it proposes; and these, in my judgment, constitute a measure of reconciliation. And now I add justice to the colored race. Is not that germane? Do not the two go together? Are they not naturally associated? Sir, can they be separated?

Instead of raising a question of order, I think the friends of amnesty would be much better employed if they devoted their strength to secure the passage of my amendment. Who that is truly in favor of amnesty will vote against this measure of reconciliation?

Sir, most anxiously do I seek reconciliation; but I know too much of history, too much of my own country, and I remember too well the fires over which we have walked in these latter days, not to know that reconciliation is impossible except on the recognition of Equal Rights. Vain is the effort of the Senator from Mississippi [Mr. Alcorn]; he cannot succeed; he must fail, and he ought to fail. It is not enough to be generous; he must learn to be just. It is not enough to stand by those who have fought against us; he must also stand by those who for generations have borne the ban of wrong. I listened with sadness to the Senator; he spoke earnestly and sincerely,—but, to my mind, it is much to be regretted, that, coming into this Chamber the representative of colored men, he should turn against them. I know that he will say, “Pass the Amnesty Bill first, and then take care of the other.” I say, Better pass the two together; or if either is lost, let it be the first. Justice in this world is foremost.

The Senator thinks that the cause of the colored race is hazarded because my amendment is moved on the Act for Amnesty. In my judgment, it is advanced. He says that the Act of Amnesty can pass only by a two-thirds vote. Well, Sir, I insist that every one of that two-thirds should record his name for my measure of reconciliation. If he does not, he is inconsistent with himself. How, Sir, will an Act of Amnesty be received when accompanied with denial of justice to the colored race? With what countenance can it be presented to this country? How will it look to the civilized world? Sad page! The Recording Angel will have tears, but not enough to blot it out.