 |
Within a very few years Ruskin was performing a more useful service for the English School of painting than that of gilding the fine gold of its greatest genius. Whether or not he was aware of the fact, young Holman Hunt had borrowed a copy of "Modern Painters," which, he says, entirely changed his opinions as to the views held by society at large concerning art, and in 1849 there were exhibited Hunt's Rienzi, Rossetti's Girlhood of Mary Virgin, and Millais' Lorenzo and Isabella, each inscribed with the mystic letters "P.R.B.," meaning "Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood." It is interesting to note that this alliance was formed when the three young artists were looking over a book of engravings of the frescoes in the Campo Santo at Pisa.
In the following year Hunt exhibited the British Family, Millais, The Carpenter's Shop, and Rossetti the Ecce Ancilla Domini, and in 1851 were Hunt's Two Gentlemen of Verona and three by Millais. The fury of the critics had now reached a point at which some notice had to be taken of it—as of a man in an apopleptic fit. That of the Times in particular:—"These young artists have unfortunately become notorious by addicting themselves to an antiquated style, false perspective, and crude colour of remote antiquity. We want not to see what Fuseli termed drapery "snapped instead of folded," faces bloated into apoplexy, or extenuated into skeletons; colour borrowed from the jars in a druggist's shop, and expression forced into caricature. That morbid infatuation which sacrifices truth, beauty, and genuine feeling to mere eccentricity deserves no quarter at the hands of the public." It was in disapproval of the tone of this outburst that the author of "Modern Painters" addressed his famous and useful letter to the Times, vindicating the artists, and following it up with another in which he wishes them all "heartily good speed, believing in sincerity that if they temper the courage and energy which they have shown in the adoption of their systems with patience and discretion in framing it, and if they do not suffer themselves to be driven by harsh and careless criticism into rejection of the ordinary means of obtaining influence over the minds of others, they may, as they gain experience, lay in our England the foundation of a school of art nobler than the world has seen for three hundred years."
If any one of this strenuous young band had been a painter of the first rank, this prediction might have been abundantly verified. But it must be owned that none of them was. Holman Hunt came nearest to being, and Millais probably thought he was, when he had abandoned his early principles and shaped for the Presidency of the Academy. Rossetti had more genius in him than the others, but it came out in poetry as well as in painting, and perhaps in more lasting form. As it was, the effects of the revolution were widespread and entirely beneficial; but those effects must not be looked for in the works of any one particular artist, but rather in the general aspect of English art in the succeeding half century, and perhaps to-day. It broke up the soil. The flowers that came up were neither rare nor great, but they were many, varied, and pleasing, and in every respect an improvement on the evergreens and hardy annuals with which the English garden had become more and more encumbered from want of intelligent cultivation. More than this, the freedom engendered of revolt had now encouraged the young artist to feel that he was no longer bound to paint in any particular fashion. People's eyes were opened to possibilities as well as to actualities; and though they were prone to close again under the soporific influence of what was regular and conventional, they were capable of opening again, perhaps with a start, but without the necessity for a surgical operation. In 1847, for example, George Frederick Watts had offered to adorn, free of charge, the booking-hall of Euston Station, and had been refused—Watts, by the by, was quite independent of the Pre-Raphaelites—whereas in 1860 the Benchers of Lincoln's Inn accepted his School of Legislature, and in 1867 he was elected an academician.
Two somewhat remarkable effects of the movement are attributed to it by Mr Edmund Gosse (in a note on the work of Alfred Hunt, written in 1884), which are probably typical of many more. The Liverpool Academy, founded in 1810, had an annual grant of L200 from the Corporation. In 1857 it gave a prize to Millais' Blind Girl in preference to the most popular picture of the year (Abraham Solomon's Waiting for the Verdict), and so great was the public indignation that pressure was brought to bear on the Corporation, the grant was withdrawn, and the Academy ruined.
In the other instance we may not go the whole way with Mr Gosse, when in speaking of the Pre-Raphaelite principle he says that "the school of Turnerian landscape was fatally affected by them," or that all the landscape painters, except Alfred Hunt, "accepted the veto which the Pre-Raphaelites had tacitly laid upon composition or a striving after an artificial harmony of forms in landscape." But to a certain extent their influence undoubtedly was prejudicial in that respect. In suggesting another reason for the cessation of Turner s influence he is quite as near the mark, namely, the action of the Royal Academy in admitting no landscape painters to membership. At Turner's death in 1851 there were only three, among whom was Creswick. "This popular artist," says Mr Gosse, "was the Upas tree under whose shadow the Academical patronage of landscape died in England. From his election as an associate in 1842 to that of Vicat Cole in 1869, no landscape painter entered the doors of the Royal Academy." Of this august body we shall have something to say later on.
IV
MANET AND WHISTLER AGAINST THE WORLD
Let us now cross the channel again, and see what is going on there, in 1863. Evidently there is something on, or there would not be so much excitement. As we approach the Capital we are aware of one name being prominent in the general uproar—that of EDOUARD MANET.
Manet's revolt against tradition began before he became an artist, as was in fact necessary, or he would never have been allowed to become one. The traditions of the Bourgoisie were sacred, and their power and importance since the revolution of 1848 not to be lightly set aside. But young Manet was so determined that he was at last allowed by his bourgeois parents to have his way, and was sent to study under that very rough diamond Couture. Now again his "revolting" qualities showed themselves, this time in the life class. Theodore Duret, his friend and biographer, puts it so amusingly that a quotation, untranslated, is imperative:—"Cette repulsion qui se developpe chez Manet pour l'art de la tradition," he says, "se manifeste surtout par le mepris qu'il temoigne aux modeles posant dans l'atelier et a l'etude du nu telle qu'elle etait alors conduite. Le culte de l'antique comme on le comprenait dans la premiere moitie du XIXe siecle parmi les peintres avait amene la recherche de modeles speciaux. On leur demandait des formes pleines. Les hommes en particulier devaient avoir une poitrine large et bombee, un torse puissant, des membres muscles. Les individus doues des qualites requises qui posaient alors dans les ateliers, s'etaient habitues a prendre des attitudes pretendues expressive et heroiques, mais toujours tendues et conventionelles, d'ou l'imprevu etait banni. Manet, porte vers le naturel et epris de recherches, s'irritait de ces poses d'un type fixe et toujours les memes. Aussi faisait-il tres mauvais menage avec les modeles. Il cherchait a en obtenir des poses contraires a leurs habitudes, auxquelles ils se refusaient. Les modeles connus qui avaient vu les morceaux faits d'apres leurs torses conduire certains eleves a l'ecole de Rome, alors la supreme recompense, et qui dans leur orgueil s'attribuaient presqu'une part du succes, se revoltaient de voir un tout jeune homme ne leur temoigner aucun respect. Il parait que fatigue de l'eternelle etude du nu, Manet aurait essaye de draper et meme d'habiller les modeles, ce qui aurait cause parmi eux une veritable indignation."
It was in 1863 that the storm of popular fury burst over Manet's head, on the exhibition of his first important picture, painted three years before, generally known as Le Dejeuner sur l'herbe. This wonderful canvas was something so new and so surprising that it was rejected by the jury of the Salon. But in company with less conspicuous though equally unacceptable pieces by such men as Bracquemond, Cazin, Fantin-Latour, Harpignies, Jongkind, J. P. Laurens, Le Gros, Pissarro, Vollon, and Whistler, it was accorded an exhibition, alongside the official Salon, which was called le Salon des refuses. Being the largest and most conspicuous work shown, it attracted no less attention than if it had been officially hung, and probably much more. "Ainsi ce Dejeuner sur l'herbe," says M. Duret, "venait-il faire comme une enorme tache. Il donnait la sensation de quelquechose outre. Il heurtait la vision. Il produisait, sur les yeux du public de ce temps, l'effet de la pleine lumiere sur les yeux du hibou."
There was more than one reason for this remarkable picture surprising and shocking the sensibilities of the public. It represents a couple of men in everyday bourgeois costume, one sitting and the other reclining on the grass under trees, while next to one of them is seated a young woman, her head turned to the spectator, in no costume at all. A profusion of articles de dejeuner is beside her, and it is evident that they are only waiting to arrange the meal till a second young woman, who is seen bathing in the near background, is ready to join them. The subject and composition are reminiscent of Giorgione's beautiful and famous Fete Champetre, in the Louvre, and Manet quite frankly and in quite good faith pleaded Giorgione as his precedent when assailed on grounds of good taste. But unfortunately he had not put his male figures in "fancy dress," and the public could hardly be expected to realise that Giorgione had not, either. As for the painting, it was a revelation. He had broken every canon of tradition—and yet it was a marvellous success!
Another outburst greeted the appearance of the wonderful Olympia in 1865, this time in the official catalogue. This is now enshrined in the Louvre. It was painted in 1863, but fortunately, perhaps, Manet had not the courage to exhibit it then—for who can tell to what length the fury of the Philistines might not have been goaded by two such shocks? As it was, this second violation of the sacred traditions of the nude, which had been exclusively reserved for allegorical subjects, was considered an outrage; and the innocent, natural model, of by no means voluptuous appearance, was regarded as a disgraceful intrusion into the chaste category of nymphs and goddesses. As a painter, however, Manet had shown himself unmistakably as the great figure of
the age, and if we have to go to Paris or to New York to catch a glimpse of any of his work, it is partly because we are too backward in seizing opportunities so eagerly snapped up by others.
The next great storm in the artistic world followed in the wake of one of Manet's companions in adversity at the Salon des Refuses—JAMES M'NEILL WHISTLER, who left Paris and settled with his mother in Chelsea in the late 'sixties. That he should have existed for fifteen whole years without breaking forth into strife is so extraordinary that we are almost tempted to attribute it to the influence of his mother, who used to bring him to the old church on Sundays, as the present writer dimly remembers. In this case it was not the public, but the critic, John Ruskin, who so deftly dropped the fat into the fire. Having, as we saw, taken up the cudgels for poor Turner against the public in 1843, and for the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood in 1850, he now, in 1877, ranged himself on the other side, and accused Whistler of impertinence in "flinging a pot of paint in the face of the public." The action for libel which Whistler commenced in the following year resulted in strict fact in a verdict of one farthing damages for the libelled one; but in reality the results were much farther reaching. The artist had vindicated not only himself, but his art, from the attacks of the ignorant and bumptious. "Poor art!" Whistler wrote, "What a sad state the slut is in, an these gentlemen shall help her. The artist alone, by the way, is to no purpose and remains unconsulted; his work is explained and rectified without him, by the one who was never in it—but upon whom God, always good though sometimes careless, has thrown away the knowledge refused to the author, poor devil!" This recalls Turner's comment on Ruskin's eulogies—which Whistler had probably never heard of—and making every allowance for Whistler's fiery, combative nature, and sharp pen, there is much truth, and truth that needed telling, in his contention. "Art," he continues, "that for ages has hewn its own history in marble, and written its own comments on canvas, shall it suddenly stand still, and stammer, and wait for wisdom from the passer-by? For guidance from the hand that holds neither brush nor chisel? Out upon the shallow conceit!"
Of the hopeless banality of the critics during this period there are plenty of examples to be found without looking very far. Several of the most amusing have been embodied in a little volume of "Whistler Stories," lately compiled by Mr Don C. Seitz of New York. Here we find The Standard's little joke about Whistler paying his costs in the action—apart from those allowed on taxation, that is to say—"But he has only to paint, or, as we believe he expresses it 'knock off' three or four 'symphonies' or 'harmonies'—or perhaps he might try his hand at a Set of Quadrilles in Peacock Blue?—and a week's labour will set all square." Then there is this priceless revelation of his art when questioning his class in Paris. "Do you know what I mean when I say tone, value, light, shade, quality, movement, construction, etc.?" Chorus, "Oh, yes, Mr Whistler!" "I'm glad, for it's more than I do myself." More serious was the verdict of Sir George Scharf, keeper of the National Gallery, when (in 1874) there was a proposal to purchase the portrait of Carlyle. "Well," he said, icily, on looking at the picture, "and has painting come to this!"
High place, it would seem, did not always conduce to an appreciation of high art. Here is the opinion of Sir Charles Eastlake, F.R.I.B.A., also keeper of the
National Gallery, published in 1883, on one of Rembrandt's pictures in the Louvre:—
"The Bath, a very ugly and offensive picture, in which the principal object is the ill-proportioned figure of a naked woman, distinguished by flesh tones whose colour suggests the need of a bath rather than the fact that it has been taken. The position of the old servant wiping the woman's feet is not very intelligible, and the drawing of the bather's legs is distinctly defective. The light and shade of the picture, though obviously untrue to natural effect, are managed with the painter's usual dexterity."
V
THE ROYAL ACADEMY
The last revolt of the nineteenth century was effected in a peaceable and business-like, but none the less successful manner, by the establishment, in 1886, of the New English Art Club as a means of defence against the mighty vis inertiae of the Royal Academy. As an example of the disadvantage under which any artist laboured who did not bow down to the great Idol, I venture to quote a few sentences from the report of the Select Committee of the House of Lords appointed to inquire into the administration of the Chantrey Trust, in 1904:——
"With five exceptions, all the works in the collection have been bought from summer exhibitions of the Royal Academy."
"It is admitted by those most friendly to the present system that the Chantrey collection regarded as a national gallery of modern British art is incomplete, and in a large degree unrepresentative. The works of many of the most brilliant and capable artists who worked in the last quarter of the nineteenth century are missing from the gallery, and the endeavour to account for these omissions has formed one main branch of the inquiry."
"It has been stated that while containing some fine works of art, it is lacking in variety and interest, and while failing to give expression to much of the finest artistic feeling of its period, it includes not a few works of minor importance. Full consideration of the evidence has led the Committee to regard this view as approximately correct."
Up to 1897, when the collection was handed over to the nation, little short of L50,000 had been spent upon it. And with five exceptions, amounting to less than L5000, the whole of that money had been expended on such works alone as were permitted by the Academy to be exhibited on their walls.
Of the L5000, it may be noted, L2200 was well laid out on Watts's Psyche; but with regard to the very first purchase made, in 1877, for L1000,—Hilton's Christ Mocked, which had been painted as an altar-piece for S. Peter's, Eaton Square, in 1839, the following question and answer are full of bitter significance for the poor artist of the time:——
Lord Ribblesdale.—Was Mr Hilton's picture offered by the Vicar and Churchwardens?
The Secretary to the Royal Academy.—Yes, it was offered by them—one of the Churchwardens was the late Lord Maghermorne—he was then Sir James M'Garrell Hogg—he was a great friend of Sir Francis Grant who was the President, and he offered it to him for the Chantrey Collection.
When repeatedly pressed by the Committee for the reasons why so few purchases were made outside the Academy exhibitions, the President, Sir Edward Poynter, repeatedly pleaded the impossibility of a Council of Ten, all of whom must see pictures before they are bought, travelling about in search of them. In view of this apparent—but obviously unreal—difficulty, the following questions were then put by the Earl of Lytton:——
420. Without actually changing the terms of the will, has the question of employing an agent for the purpose of finding out what pictures were available and giving advice upon them ever been suggested?—No.
421. That would come within the term of the will, would it not, the final voting being, as it is now, in the hands of the Academy; it would be open to the Council to appoint an agent, as was suggested just now, of going to Scotland, and going about the country making suggestions as to pictures which in his opinion might be bought?—The question has never arisen.
422. But that could be done, could it not?—I suppose that could be done under the terms of the will, but I do not suppose that the Academy would ever do it.
As a comment on this let us turn to the "Autobiography of W. P. Frith R. A." (Chapter xl.):—"A portion of the year ... was spent in the service of the winter Exhibition of Old Masters. My duties took me into strange places.... One of my first visits was paid to a huge mansion in the North.... I visited thirty-eight different collections of old masters and named for selection over three hundred pictures.... The pictures of Reynolds are so much desired for the winter Exhibition that neither trouble nor expense are spared in searching for them; so hearing of one described to me as of unusual splendour, I made a journey into Wales with the solitary Reynolds for its object."
Here, where it is not a question of a Trust for the benefit of the public and for the encouragement of artists, there appears to have been no trouble or expense spared. But the real reason for the Academic selection leapt naively from the mouth of the President a little later, in reply to question 545.—"The best artists come into the Academy ultimately. I do not say that there have been no exceptions, but as a general rule all the best artists ultimately become Academicians. It is natural, if we want the best pictures that we should go to the best artists."
On this point the answer to a question put by Lord Lytton to one of the forty, Sir William Richmond, K.C.B., is of value, as showing that the grievances of "the outsiders" were not imaginary:—
767. I just want to ask you one more question. When you said that in your opinion the walls of the Academy have had priority of claim in the past, have you any particular reason for that statement?—Yes. I may mention this to show that I am consistent. Before I was an Associate of the Royal Academy, I fought hard for what are called, in rather undignified language, the outsiders, and I was anxious that men should be elected Associates of the Royal Academy not necessarily because they exhibit on the Royal Academy walls, but because they are competent painters. That was my fight upon which I stood; and I refused to send a picture to the Royal Academy on the understanding that if I did I should probably be elected Associate that year, and also that my picture would be bought by the Chantrey Fund. My answer to that was, "If my picture is good enough to be purchased for the Chantrey Bequest my picture can be purchased from the walls of the Grosvenor Gallery as well as from the walls of the Royal Academy. That seems to me to be justice."
The "New English," then, had some justification for their establishment; and although they did not make very much headway before the close of the nineteenth century, they find themselves at the opening of the twentieth in a position to determine to a very considerable extent what the future of English painting is to be, just as the Academy succeeded in determining it before they came into existence.
For the Academy everything that was vital in English art in the last half century had no existence—was simply ignored. For the New English, it was the seed that flowered, under their gentle influence, into the many varieties of blossoms with which our garden is already filled. To the Academy there was no such thing as change or development—their ears were deaf to any innovation, their eyes were blind to any fresh beauty. To others, every new movement foretold its significance, and the century closed with the recognition of the fact that art must live and develop if it is to be anything but a comfortable means of subsistence for a self-constituted authority of forty and their friends.
Let me be allowed to conclude this chapter, and my imperfect efforts to indicate the energies of six centuries of art in so small a space, with a passage from a lecture delivered in 1882 by Mr Selwyn Image, now Slade Professor at Oxford, which embodies the spirit in the air at that time, and foreshadows what was to come. "I do not feel that we have come here to sing a requiem for art this afternoon," he said. "As a giant it will renew its strength and rejoice to run its course. I am not a prophet, I cannot tell you just what that course is going to be. Nor is it possible to estimate what is around us with the same security, with the same value, that we estimate what has passed—you must be at a certain distance to take things in. But in contemporary art we can notice some characteristics, which are quite at one with what we call the modern spirit; and extremely suggestive—for they seem to indicate movement, and therefore life, in this imaginative sphere, just as there is movement and life in the sphere of science or of social interests. For instance, in modern representative work ... I think anyone comparing it as a whole with the work of the old masters, will be struck as against their distinctness, containedness, simplicity and serenity; with its complexity, restlessness, and vagueness, and emotion, and suggestiveness in place of delineation, and impressionism in place of literal transcription—and this alike in execution and motive. I do not mean to say that these qualities are better than the qualities that preceded them, or worse—but only that they are different, only that they are of the modern spirit—only that they indicate movement and life; and so far that is hopeful—is it not?"
THE END
INDEX
Academy of Painting, the French, 231
—— the Royal, 279, 286, 329-333
Alamanus, Giovanni or Johannes, 60, 61
Allegri, Antonio, or Correggio, 58
Alma-Tadema, Sir Lawrence, 307
Altdorfer, Albert, 212, 214-216
Angelico, Fra, 19
Animal Painters, 154, 191-202
Aretino, Spinello, 17
Arnolde, 255
Backer, 174
Balen, Henry van, 159, 162
Barret, 287
Basaiti, Marco, 63, 74
Bassano, Jacopo da, 98-99
Bastiani, Lazzaro di, 75-76
Baudelaire, 311, 312
Bazzi, Giovanni Antonio (Sodoma), 57
Bellini, Gentile, 70, 72-73, 76, 81
—— Giovanni, 62, 63, 66, 70-72, 76, 81, 82, 83, 94
—— Jacopo, 66, 69, 70, 75
Belvedere, Andrea, 201
Berchem, Nicholas, 199-201, 205, 208
Beruete, Senor, quoted, 113, 115, 116, 118, 177
Bettes, John, 254, 255
—— Thomas, 255
Bol, 165
Boltraffio, Giovanni Antonio, 57
Bonifazio Veronese or Veneziano, 97-98
Bordes, Lassalle, 311
Bosboom, 307
Botticelli, Sandro, 26, 28-32, 33
Botticini, Francesco, 32
Boucher, Francois, 241-243, 245, 246, 247, 248
Bouguereau, 306
Bourdon, Sebastien, 231-232
Bouts, Dirk, 132
Bracquemond, 325
Bril, Paul, 229
Broederlam, Melchior, 121, 122, 124
Brouwer, Adrian, 157, 158, 173, 183-185
Brueghel, Jan, or Velvet Brueghel, 141, 201
——- Pieter (or Peasant), 141
—— —— his son, 141
Brun, Le, 234-241
Bruyn, Bartel, 212
Buonarroti. See Michelangelo
Burnet, on Turner, 315
Byzantine Art, 59, 124
Caliari, Paolo, 102-103
Campidoglio, Michel de, 201
Canale, Antonio, 108
Caro-Delvaille, quoted, 79, 87, 91, 92
Carpaccio, Vittore, 75, 76-78
Carracci, the, 106, 182
—— Agostino, 106, 107, 108
—— Annibale, 106, 107
—— Lodovico, 106, 107
Catalonia, School of, 109
Catena, Vincenzo, 72, 73
Cazin, 325
Champaigne, Philippe de, 233-234
Chantrey Trust, the, 329
Chardin, 245, 247, 296, 297
Chartered Society, the, 286
Cimabue, Giovanni, 1-9, 10, 11, 124, 125, 308
Claude (or Claude Lorraine, or Gellee), 226, 229-231
Cleef, Joos van, 142
Clouet, Francois, 226
—— Jehan or Jean, 226
Cole, Peter, 255
—— Vicat, 323
Conegliano, Cima da, 72, 73-74
Constable, 295, 306, 310, 314, 317
Cook, Herbert, quoted, 80, 83, 87
Copley, John Singleton, 297
Corot, 306
Correggio, 58
Cotes, 287
Cotman, John Sell, 295-296, 306, 314
Courbet, 306
Couture, 324
Cox, 306
Cozens, John Robert, 316
Cranach, Lucas, 212, 213-214
Credi, Lorenzo di, 49
Creswick, 323
Crivelli, Carlo, 63, 64
Crome, John, or Old Crome, 295, 314
—— John Bernay, his son, 295
Crowe and Cavalcaselle, quoted, 122
Cunningham, Allan, "Life of Hogarth," 261, 266, 267, 301
Cuyp, Albert, 194-196
—— Jacob Gerritz, 194
Dance, Nathaniel, 286
Daubigny, 306
Daumier, 306
David, Jacques Louis, 248, 249, 306, 309
Dayes, Edward, quoted, on Turner, 315
Decamps, 306
Degas, 306
Delacroix, Eugene, 306, 309-313
Diana, Benedetto, 75
Dilke, Lady, quoted, 247
Dobson, William, 257
Dolce, Carlo, 108
—— Ludovico, on Titian, 80, 81
Domenichino, 107-108, 227
Donatello, 23, 70
Dore, 306
Dou, Gerard, 187, 188, 192
Doyen, 246
Duccio of Siena, 5, 6, 59, 124, 125
Duerer, Albert, 70, 140, 175, 181, 212, 213, 215-222, 223
Duret, Theodore, quoted, on Manet, 324-325
Dyck, Anthony van, 156, 157, 160-163, 165, 166, 178, 236, 272
—— —— in England, 256-257
Dutch School, 165-210
Eclectics, the, 105
Edwards, Edward, quoted, on Art Exhibitions, 279
Elsheimer, Adam, 158, 212
Emilia, Schools of, 57
English School, early Portrait Painters of, 251-258
—— in Eighteenth Century, 295-298
—— spirit of revolt in Nineteenth Century, 305 et seq.
Everdingen, 157, 205
Exhibitions of Painting, 278
Eyck, Hubert van, 121, 125, 126, 127, 143, 150
—— Jan van, 121, 125, 129-131, 133, 134, 150
Fabriano, Gentile da, 65, 70
Fabritius, Karel, 189
Fantin-Latour, 325
Fiori, Mario di, 201
Flaxman, John, on Romney, 298-300
Flemish School, 121-163
Floris, Franz, 144
Foppa, Vincenzo, 57
Fragonard, Jean Honore, 245, 248, 249
Francesco, Piero della, 49
Franciabigio, 45
Free Society of Artists, 286
French Academy of Painting, 231
French School in Seventeenth Century, 225-235
—— in Eighteenth Century, 235-249
—— in Nineteenth Century, 305
Frith, W. P., quoted, 331
Fyt, Jan, 154, 157
Gaddi, Taddeo, 18
Gainsborough, Thomas, 286, 288-295, 297
Garrard, Mark, 255
Gellee, Claude, or Claude, 226, 229-231
Genre Painters of Dutch School, 183-191
Gericault, 306, 310
German Schools, 211-224
Ghirlandaio, Domenico, 43, 310
Giambono, Michele, 60, 61
Gillot, Claude, 236, 239
Giorgione, 76, 79, 81, 82, 83, 86, 97
Giotto di Bondone, 10-18, 24, 66, 124, 308
Girtin, 315, 316
Gossaert, Jan, or Mabuse, 136, 138, 139, 143, 254
Gosse, Edmund, quoted, 322, 323
Goubeau, Antoine, 235
Goya, Francisco, 119-120
Goyen, Jan van, 186, 199, 202-203, 204
Grebber, Peter, 199
Greco, El, 110
Greene, Thomas, quoted, on Turner, 314
Greenhill, 257
Gros, Le, 309, 325
Greuze, Jean Baptiste, 243-245, 249, 258
Gruenewald, Matthew, 213
Guardi, Francesco, 108
Guercino, 108
Hals, Frans, 165-169, 173, 178, 179, 181, 183, 184, 192, 248
Harpignies, 325
Heem, de, 201
Heemskirk, Martin, 144
Helst, Bartholomew van der, 165, 170-171, 174
Herle, Wilhelm van, or Meister Wilhelm, 211
Herrera, Francisco de, 111
Highmore, 297
Hilliard, 257
Hobbema, Meindert, 208-210
Hogarth, William, 257, 258-267, 280, 297, 298, 307
Holbein, Hans, 175, 212, 213, 222-224
—— in England, 254
Hondecoeter, Giles, 197, 198
—— Gysbert, 198
—— Melchior, 154, 198, 199
Hone, Nathaniel, 287
Honthorst, Gerard, 169-170
Hoogh, Peter de, 189, 190
Hudson, Thomas, 257, 269
Hunt, Alfred, 323
—— Holman, 134, 306, 320, 321, 322
Huysum, James van, 202
—— Jan van, 201-202
—— Justus van, 202
—— Michael van, 203
Image, Mr Selwyn, quoted, 333
Ingres, 306
Israels, 307
Jervas, 257
John of Bruges, 125, 126
Jongkind, 325
Jordaens, Jacob, 156, 157, 160, 163
Kauffmann, Angelica, 287
Kneller, Sir Godfrey, 234, 257, 279
Knupler, Nicolas, 186
Kugler, quoted, 13, 61, 67, 75, 77, 95, 97, 99, 101, 103, 107, 181, 182, 195, 204, 223
Lancret, Nicholas, 239-240, 241
Landscape, painters of, 202-210
Largilliere, Nicholas, 234, 235, 241
Lastman, Peter, 180
Laurens, J. P., 325
Lawrence, 300, 301-303, 306, 313
Le Brun, 234, 241
Le Gros, 309, 325
Le Moine, Francois, 241
Le Sueur, Eustache, 232-233
Lefort, quoted, on Velasquez, 115
Lely, Sir Peter, 165, 235, 257
Leyden, Lucas van, 138, 212
Lingelbach, 203, 208
Lippi, Fra Filippo, 21, 26, 29
—— Filippino, 22
Lochner, Stephen, 211
Lockie, 255
Lombardy, Schools of, 57
Longhi, Pietro, 108
Loo, Carle van, 241
Lorenzetti, Pietro, 17
Lorraine, Claude, 226, 229-231
Lotto, Lorenzo, 63, 72, 96-97
Luini, Bernardino, 57
Lyne, 255
Mabuse, Jan van, 136, 138, 139, 143, 254
Maes, Nicolas, 180, 188-189
Manet, Edouard, 306, 324-327
Mansueti, Giovanni, 75
Mantegna, Andrea, 67-70, 71, 72, 146, 151
Maratti, Carlo, 108
Maris, the Brothers, 307
Masaccio, 18, 21, 24-26
Masolino, 26
Massys, Jan, 141
—— Quentin, 136-138, 141, 212
Mauve, 307
Meissonier, 306
Memling, Hans, 132, 133-136, 150
Mengs, Raphael, 85
Messina, Antonello da, 71, 72, 126, 129
Metsu, 191
Michelangelo, 26, 40-46, 66, 95, 100
Mieris, Frans van, 188
Millais, 320, 321, 322, 323
Millet, 306
Moine, Francois le, 241
Monoyer, Baptiste, 201
Montagna, Bartolommeo, 63
Mor, Sir Antonio, 142
Morland, George, 296-298
—— Henry, his father, 296
Moroni, 75
Moser, Michael, 280
Moyaert, Nicholas, 199
Murano, Antonio da, 60
Murillo, Bartolome Esteban, 118-119
Muther, Dr, quoted, 32, 177, 178
Nasmyth, 306
New English Art Club, 329, 333
Norwich School, 295
Oil Painting, introduction of, 126
Oliver, 257
Oort, Adam van, 145
Orcagna, Andrea, 16
Orley, Bernard van, 140, 143
Ostade, Adrian van, 173, 183, 185, 206
—— Isaac van, 183, 185
Ouwater, 13
Pacheco, 110-111
Padua, School of, 66
Palma, Giovane, 78
—— Vecchio, 78, 96, 98
Parma, School of, 58
Pater, Jean Baptiste Joseph, 240-241
Peake, 255
Penny, 287
Perugian or Umbrian School, 48, 49, 51
Perugino, Pietro, 48, 49
Pinas, 180
Piombo, Sebastiano del, 94-96
Pisanello, Vittore, 64, 65
Pissarro, 325
Pollaiuolo, Antonio, 26-28, 30
Pontormo, 45
Pot, Hendrik Gerritz, 169
Potter, Paul, 196
—— Pieter, 196
Poussin, Gaspard (Gaspard Dughet), 228-229, 231
—— Nicholas, 226-228
Poynter, Sir Edward, 331
Predis, Ambrogio di, 36, 57
Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, 134, 320, 323, 327
Previtali, Andrea, 74
Prudhon, 309
Quattrocentists, the Earlier, 18-26
—— the Later, 26 et seq.
Raeburn, 300
Raphael, 26, 45, 47-57
—— Sir Joshua Reynolds on, 85, 270
Rembrandt van Ryn, 165, 166, 171-183, 192
Reni, Guido, 108
Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 267-278, 286-288, 289
—— quoted, on Boucher, 243
—— —— on Bourdon, 232, 233
—— —— on Gainsborough, 290-294
—— —— on Hogarth, 260
—— —— on Rubens and Titian, 93-94
—— —— on Titian and Raphael, 85
—— —— on Veronese, 105
—— revival of English School due to, 150
—— Refs. to, 245, 247, 251, 257, 297, 301, 331, 332
Ribera, 110
Richardson, 257
Ridolfi, quoted, 84
Rigaud, Hyacinthe, 234, 241
Riley, 257
Robert, Hubert, 246
Robusti, Jacopo. See Tintoretto
Romano, Giulio, 55
Romney, George, 100, 152, 289, 298-300, 301
Rossetti, 134, 306, 321, 322
Rowlandson, 89
Royal Academy, the, 329-333
—— foundation of, 279, 286
Rubens, Peter Paul, 143-157
—— and Van Dyck, 161-162
—— and Velasquez, 112, 149
—— pupils of, 157-163
—— Refs. to, 89, 93, 114, 117, 158, 160, 165, 167, 176, 179, 182, 184, 235, 236, 271
Rucellai Madonna, the, 5
Ruisdael, Jacob, 157, 200, 204-206, 208, 209
Ruskin against the Philistines, 313-323
—— on Whistler, 327
Sandrart, Joachim, 229
—— quoted, 180
Sansovino, 89, 102
Sarto, Andrea del, 41, 45
Scharf, Sir George, 328
Schlegel, on Altdorfer, 215
Schongauer, Martin, 134
Scorel, Jan, 140
Sebastiani, Lazzaro di. See Bastiani
Segar, Francis, 255
—— William, 255
Seghers, Daniel, 201
Semitecolo, Nicolo, 59
Shee, Sir Martin Archer, 313
Signorelli, Luca, 49
Smith, John, Catalogue Raisonne, quoted, 193, 199, 244, 265
Snyders, Frans, 154, 157, 159-160, 163
Sodoma, 57
Spanish School, 108-120
Spinello of Arezzo, or Aretino, 17
Squarcione, Francesco, 62, 63, 66-67, 70
Steen, Jan, 186-187
Stevens, 306
Streetes, Guillim, 254, 255
Strozzi, Bernard, 113
Sueur, Eustache le, 232-233
Swanenburg, Jacob van, 175, 180
Tassi, Agostino, 229
Teniers, Abraham, 158
—— David, the Elder, 157, 158
—— —— the Younger, 157, 158, 159, 163, 185
Terburg, Gerard, 190-191
Thornhill, Sir James, 258, 279
Thulden, Theodore van, 156
Tiepolo, Giovanni Battista, 108
Tintoretto, Il, 99-102, 103, 104, 105, 113, 114, 117
Titian, 78-94, 100, 102, 103, 104, 105, 117, 179
Turner, 295, 306, 314-320, 323, 327
—— Claude's influence on, 230, 231
Tuscan Schools, 1-58
Uccello, Paolo, 23-24, 25
Umbrian or Perugian School, 48, 49, 51
Vaga, Piero del, 45
Van Balen, Henry, 159, 162
Van Cleef, Joos, 142
Van de Velde, Adrian, 203, 206, 208
—— Willem, the Elder, 206
—— —— the Younger, 206-208
Van der Helst, Bartholomew, 165, 170-171, 174
Van der Weyden, Roger, 132-134, 211
Van Dyck, Anthony, 156, 157, 160-163, 165, 166, 178, 236, 272
—— —— in England, 256, 257
Van Eyck, Hubert, 121, 125, 126, 127, 143, 150
—— Jan, 121, 125, 127, 131, 133, 134, 150
Van Goyen, Jan, 186, 199, 202-203, 204
Van Huysum, James, 202
—— Jan, 201-202
—— Justus, 202
—— Michael, 202
Van Leyden, Lucas, 138, 212
Van Loo, Carle, 241
Van Mabuse, Jan, 136, 138, 139, 143, 254
Van Mieris, Frans, 188
Van Oort, Adam, 145
Van Orley, Bernard, 140, 143
Van Ostade, Adrian, 173, 183, 185, 206
—— Isaac, 183, 185
Van Swanenburg, Jacob, 175, 180
Van Thulden, Theodore, 156
Vasari, quoted, on Andrea del Sarto, 41
—— on Botticelli, 28, 30, 32
—— on Cimabue, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 9
—— on Fra Angelico, 20
—— on Fra Filippo Lippi, 21, 22, 23
—— on Giotto, 10
—— on introduction of oil painting, 126, 127, 129
—— on Leonardo da Vinci, 34, 37, 39, 40
—— on Masaccio, 25, 26
—— on Michelangelo, 42, 43, 44, 45
—— on Pollaiuolo, 26, 27, 28
—— on the Quattrocentists, 18
—— on Raphael, 47
—— on Spinello of Aretino, 82, 86
—— on Titian, 82, 86
—— Refs. to, 173, 308
Vecellio, Tiziano. See Titian
Velasquez, 89, 109, 110-118, 120, 163, 178, 179
Venetian Schools, 59-108
Verhaegt, Tobias, 145
Vermeer of Delft, Jan, 189, 191
Veronese, Paolo, 103-104, 105
Verrocchio, Andrea, 34, 35, 49
Vertue, George, 251
Vinci, Leonardo da, 26, 33-40, 49, 57, 225
Vivarini Family, the, 59, 60
—— Antonio, 62, 63, 65
—— Bartolommeo, 62
—— Luigi, or Alvise, 62
Vlieger, Simon de, 206
Vollon, 325
Volterra, Daniele da, 18
—— Francesco da, 18
Vos, Simon de, 156
Waagen, Dr, quoted, 95, 122-123, 143, 146, 153, 157, 224
Walker, Robert, 257
Walpole, quoted, 251, 252, 267
Wals, Gottfried, 229
Watteau, Antoine, 235-239, 240, 241
Watts, George Frederick, 306, 322
Weenix, Jan Baptist, 154, 197, 198, 199
—— —— his son, 154, 198
Wesel, Hermann Wynrich von, 211
West, Benjamin, 253, 256, 287
Weyden, Roger van der, 132-134, 211
Whistler, James M'Neill, 306, 325, 327
Wilhelm, Meister, 211
Wills, 280
Wils, Jan, 199
Wilson, Richard, 230, 288, 296
Wint, Peter de, 306
Wouvermans, Philip, 192-193, 205, 206, 208
Wyczewa, M. de, quoted, 117
Wynants, Jan, 192, 203-204
Zampieri, Domenico, or Domenichino, 107-108
Zoffany, 297
Zurbaran, 110
FOOTNOTES:
[1] National Gallery Catalogue.
[2] "Titien," par Henry Caro-Delvaille. Librairie Felix Alcan.
[3] An old copy of this picture is in the Edinburgh Gallery.
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