diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-04 11:25:36 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-04 11:25:36 -0800 |
| commit | 3fefc602ef3473e6f28810d237d20ac9646d35aa (patch) | |
| tree | 7d6faa390c67fdb2261e124dc5446886f8a27afc | |
| parent | 576dbaac80d8d1423742e8b6ac8da527729d049e (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-0.txt | 2637 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-0.zip | bin | 55595 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h.zip | bin | 8059146 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/63798-h.htm | 2965 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 238470 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_001.jpg | bin | 285275 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_002.jpg | bin | 333434 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_003.jpg | bin | 269802 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_004.jpg | bin | 254870 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_005.jpg | bin | 297092 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_006.jpg | bin | 131941 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_007.jpg | bin | 298783 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_008.jpg | bin | 244055 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_009.jpg | bin | 323064 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_010.jpg | bin | 292618 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_011.jpg | bin | 239620 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_012.jpg | bin | 169796 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_013.jpg | bin | 274293 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_014.jpg | bin | 325117 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_015.jpg | bin | 280648 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_016.jpg | bin | 212497 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_017.jpg | bin | 354619 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_018.jpg | bin | 229495 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_019.jpg | bin | 163864 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_020.jpg | bin | 268544 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_021.jpg | bin | 272556 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_022.jpg | bin | 247636 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_023.jpg | bin | 203793 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_024.jpg | bin | 277144 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_025.jpg | bin | 276192 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_026.jpg | bin | 245508 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_027.jpg | bin | 215267 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_028.jpg | bin | 292058 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_029.jpg | bin | 232596 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63798-h/images/plt_030.jpg | bin | 257779 -> 0 bytes |
38 files changed, 17 insertions, 5602 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..efde3f0 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63798 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63798) diff --git a/old/63798-0.txt b/old/63798-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2ffaa10..0000000 --- a/old/63798-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2637 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Water-Colours of J. M. W. Turner, by J. -M. W. Turner - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: The Water-Colours of J. M. W. Turner - -Author: J. M. W. Turner - W. G. Rawlinson - Alexander Joseph Finberg - -Contributor: Charles Holroyd - -Release Date: November 18, 2020 [EBook #63798] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - available at The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WATER-COLOURS OF J. M. W. -TURNER *** - - - - - THE WATER-COLOURS OF - J. M. W. TURNER - - TEXT BY - W. G. RAWLINSON - AND A. J. FINBERG - - FOREWORD BY - SIR CHARLES HOLROYD, R.E. - - MCMIX - OFFICES OF ‘THE STUDIO’ - LONDON, PARIS AND NEW YORK - - - - -PREFATORY NOTE. - - -The Editor desires to acknowledge his indebtedness to the following -collectors of Turner’s water-colours who have kindly lent their drawings -for reproduction in this volume:--Mr. C. Morland Agnew, Sir Hickman -Bacon, Bart., Mr. Ralph Brocklebank, Rev. William MacGregor, Mr. W. G. -Rawlinson, Mr. J. F. Schwann, and Mr. W. Yates. - -The Editor wishes especially to express his thanks to Mr. W. G. -Rawlinson, who, in addition to allowing several examples from his -collection to be reproduced, has rendered valuable assistance in various -other ways in the preparation of this volume. - - - - -ARTICLES. - - -A Foreword by Sir Charles Holroyd, R.E. page 1 - -The Water-Colour Drawings of J. M. W. Turner, R.A. -By W. G. Rawlinson ” 4 - -The Turner Drawings in the National Gallery, London. -By A. J. Finberg ” 28 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. - - -Plate I. The Archbishop’s Palace, Lambeth. From the - Collection of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq. - - ” II. The Mouth of the Avon. From the Collection - of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq. - - ” III. Peterborough Cathedral from the North. From - the Collection of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq. - - ” IV. The Pent, Dover. From the Collection of - W. G. Rawlinson, Esq. - - ” V. Distant View of Lichfield Cathedral. From the - Collection of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq. - - ” VI. Edinburgh: from St. Margaret’s Loch. In the - National Gallery, London. - - ” VII. Stonehenge--Sunset. From the Collection of - W. G. Rawlinson, Esq. - - ” VIII. Scarborough. From the Collection of C. Morland - Agnew, Esq. - - ” IX. Lulworth Cove. From the Collection of W. G. - Rawlinson, Esq. - - ” X. Goarhausen and Katz Castle. From the Collection - of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq. - - ” XI. The Lake of Nemi. From the Collection of - C. Morland Agnew, Esq. - - ” XII. Turin: from the Church of the Superga. From - the Collection of C. Morland Agnew, Esq. - - ” XIII. The Crook of the Lune. From the Collection - of Rev. William MacGregor. - - ” XIV. Norham Castle. In the National Gallery, London. - - ” XV. Launceston. From the Collection of J.F. - Schwann, Esq. - - ” XVI. Barnard Castle. From the Collection of W.G. - Rawlinson, Esq. - - ” XVII. On the Lake at Petworth--Evening. In the - National Gallery, London. - - ” XVIII. Cowes. From the Collection of W. Yates, Esq. - - ” XIX. Venice: The Salute from S. Giorgio Maggiore. - National Gallery, London. - - ” XX. Venice: Casa Grimani and the Rialto. In the - National Gallery, London. - - ” XXI. Lucerne. In the National Gallery, London. - - ” XXII. A Swiss Lake. From the Collection of Sir - Hickman Bacon, Bart. - - ” XXIII. Bellinzona: from the South. In the National - Gallery, London. - - ” XXIV. Bellinzona: from the road to Locarno. In the - National Gallery, London. - - ” XXV. Lausanne: from Le Signal. From the Collection - of W.G. Rawlinson, Esq. - - ” XXVI. Lausanne. In the National Gallery, London. - - ” XXVII. Zurich. In the National Gallery, London. - - ” XXVIII. The Seelisberg: Moonlight. From the Collection - of W.G. Rawlinson, Esq. - - ” XXIX. Schaffhausen: The Town. From the Collection - of Ralph Brocklebank, Esq. - - ” XXX. Tell’s Chapel, Fluelen. From the Collection of - W.G. Rawlinson, Esq. - - - - -A FOREWORD BY SIR CHARLES HOLROYD, R.E. - - -I am particularly glad to write a foreword to this collection of -reproductions of water-colours by J. M. W. Turner, as they are perhaps -the best renderings of the beautiful originals that I have yet seen. The -more reproductions we can have of the master’s drawings the more will it -be possible to study properly his great message, and the more will his -genius be recognised. I would like to see everyone of his nineteen -thousand water-colour sketches and lead-pencil drawings reproduced, so -that we could all hold them in our hands and carry them about with us; -for in them there is an unfailing beauty of composition, and a glorious -truth of effect and of detail, by which Turner managed to make complete -pictures out of even the fewest touches. No one realises Turner’s full -genius till he studies these drawings, often made in the very presence -of nature. They teach us to look at her with a new and seeing eye. Their -absolute truth has hardly yet been fully recognised. I have had the -fortune to carry reproductions of these drawings with me in Wharfedale -and in Venice, and I have compared them touch for touch with nature. -Often and often have I been able to see the meaning of what appears a -careless scratch or even an accidental wriggle, only when the actual -scene was before me. They are mostly drawn from one exact spot, as may -be seen by the crossing of the branches of the trees, although these are -now so many years older, and the folding of the hills. It was in the -seventies that I first made these comparisons in Wharfedale and I still -remember my delight at recognising the gnarled markings on three ash -trees a little below Bolton Abbey; the angle of their growth forming a -rough letter N was identical although they were mere saplings in -Turner’s drawing, and even the broken bank of the river was still the -same, all the winter floods of variable Wharfe not having washed away -nature’s truth to Turner’s drawing. My experiences in Venice are -similar. With the reproduction in my hand I could say that Turner drew a -particular scene from a particular flagstone on the quay, or _piazza_. -The lines of the houses on both sides of the canal cut one another in -the exact way they did in Turner’s sketches only from one particular -spot, but from there the whole scene was complete exactly. Many subjects -were sketched from the middle of the canal and owing to the movement of -the water it was not easy to compare exactly the reproductions with the -scenes in nature. Curiously nearly all these scenes from the canal were -taken from the _traghettos_, or ferries, of which there are several up -and down the Grand Canal, where gondolas wait for hire, tied to their -posts, somewhat as cabs stand in their ranks in our streets. It is -possible that Turner in his economy made use of these waiting gondolas -by giving the gondolier a palanca for permission to sit in a gondola -whilst it was thus at rest. It was an ideal place for working from in -his day, for no “penny steamboats” then splashed up and down the canal -making things rock in their wake, but peace reigned in the reflections -of the palaces. - -Only very few of the drawings of which I had reproductions went -unrecognised; one was a view from high up, probably from some room in -the monastery of San Giorgio, and others all contained a view of a tall -tower, which, from the neighbouring buildings, ought to have been the -Campanile of San Marco. But the tower in the drawings had an extra -cornice on the slope of the pyramidal top, with supports below, which I -could in no wise reconcile with nature and which puzzled me for some -time, in fact until I saw the restoration begun on the tower of San -Giorgio. Then I found that the extra cornice and supports were a -peculiar and ingenious form of scaffolding, used for the placing of new -tiles on the steep slope of the pyramidal top--and sure enough when I -got back to London and looked at the original drawing with a glass, the -touches of water-colour indicated the scaffolding quite plainly, and a -wonderful small splash of colour enabled one to realise the angel on the -top, wings and all. I found, too, that all drawings, in which the -Campanile appeared, done by Turner during that visit, gave the -restoration works quite plainly, even when the tower was seen from a -long way off. The beauty of the touches in Turner’s drawings from nature -can only be fully appreciated when the drawing, or a reproduction of it, -is compared with the actual subject, for every bend and movement of the -supple brush means something. It is not possible to convey the drawings -all over Turner’s far-stretching wanderings, but, if only we had good -reproductions of them all, what a pleasure we should all have, and how -much we should learn to appreciate his greatness. I should like to see, -as I have said, every fragment before the public. It is practically the -only way of using our great legacy fully. The original drawings are -perishable things, and must not always be in the light; many have faded -already, let us reproduce them while we may. The slighter sketches -reproduce best, as may be seen in this book. Such drawings as the -_Edinburgh from St. Margaret’s Loch_, about 1801 (Plate VI.), for -example. Note, too, the splendid sketch of _Barnard Castle_, about 1827 -(Plate XVI.); how well it comes, we can almost see the brush-marks draw -the forms of the foliage, and the way Turner has used the water; they -are perfect in their way. When Turner worked up a drawing it became like -a lovely flower with a delicate bloom upon its infinite distances, as in -the _Lake of Nemi_, about 1818 (Plate XI.), and the _Crook of the Lune_ -(Plate XIII.); they are like a gloxinia or an auricula. This curious -beauty of theirs was often obtained, as it appears to me, by alterations -in the surface of the paper and by colour left in the grain of the paper -after washing out or rubbing down a tone--it alters when the lighting of -the drawing is altered, and its changeableness is part of its beauty. - -I should like to see reproductions of the sketch books, made page by -page and bound in similar bindings to the originals, where these exist. -Mr. Finberg has lately put some of these books together again--some -drawings having been removed from the books for exhibition--for purposes -of the very useful inventory of our Turner drawings that he is so -carefully making for the Trustees of the National Gallery. The books are -much more interesting when seen together. I remember one which Turner -had with him in the Lake District and you could trace his itinerary by -turning over the pages. He evidently left Keswick in the morning and -drew two or three views of Lodore and the end of the Lake of -Derwentwater, the hills getting bigger as he comes nearer to them; -familiar views of Castle Cragg and the river come next, and to me some -most interesting views of that wide-spreading mountain Glaramara, some -of them from unfamiliar points of view; but I was able to recognise them -because I have stayed for a month at a time in farmhouses on the lower -slopes, and I have explored that beautiful mountain’s inmost caves. -After this Honister Crag and Buttermere appear in due course. How -interesting it would be to have reproductions of such books and follow -the track of the master page by page. How we should learn to know him -and to see familiar scenes with his eye. We should find that -exaggeration was not the character of his landscape drawing, when he was -working from nature, but insight into the forms. His effects of extra -height can generally be got by sitting low on the ground or even right -in a ditch. From his drawings, from those in this book of reproductions, -we learn again a forgotten truth. Fine drawing, form, is the essential -in our art; great and noble colourist as Turner was, we have had other -fine colourists in the British school of water-colour painting, but it -is just in his drawing and his sense of the beauty and significance of -line that he is supreme. As Titian in Venice excelled the great -colourists of his time, such as Bonifazio and Paris Bordone, so by his -drawing and sense of form Turner excelled as a draughtsman even more -than as a colourist. - - CHARLES HOLROYD. - - - - -THE WATER-COLOUR DRAWINGS OF J. M. W. TURNER, R.A. BY W. G. RAWLINSON. - - -What makes Turner’s water-colour drawings so profoundly -interesting--apart from their extraordinary and enduring -attractiveness--is the fact that in them lies before you, plainly -visible, the whole course and development of his art. And the -continuousness and regularity of that development are remarkable. There -are no pauses, no gaps, hardly a table-land; only one steady, continued -progress. No matter how high a point he reached, he was never content to -rest there, but was always pressing onward to fresh achievement, trying -new effects, challenging new difficulties even down to the last years of -his life. To anyone familiar with his work in water-colour, it is -generally easy to date his drawings within a year or two. - -No doubt the growth of his art can also be traced in his oil pictures, -but with some important differences. In them, even up to middle life, he -was constantly and strongly influenced by the work of other painters -whom he was often consciously or unconsciously rivalling. First Richard -Wilson, then Van de Velde and Bakhuysen, afterwards Gaspar Poussin, -Claude, Cuyp, Rembrandt, Titian and others, all in turn had their effect -on him. As a result of this rivalry, his oil pictures were less -spontaneous, less sincere than his water-colours. His lack of education -also unfitted him to be the painter of the classical and sacred subjects -in which he attempted to compete with the old masters. No doubt there -were brilliant exceptions--such, for example, as _Mercury and Herse_, -_Ulysses deriding Polyphemus_, and others, but I think Ruskin was -justified in calling many of them “nonsense pictures.” Moreover, in his -oil paintings Turner was constantly experimenting--not always -successfully--both with his materials and his methods and, as a -consequence, many, especially those of his later years, have greatly -suffered with time. - -But in his water-colours, after his first years or training and -experiment, he was simply and always himself--he was Turner. Paul -Sandby, John Cozens, Malton, Hearne, De Loutherbourg, and others of the -older water-colour painters, all had their influence on him, but in no -case did it last long. The two men who affected him most were Cozens and -Girtin, his friend and fellow student, of whom more will be said -hereafter. But by 1800, or at the latest 1802, Turner had passed all his -contemporaries, and stood alone, the acknowledged head of the English -school of water-colour painting, which in the-first half of the -nineteenth century was to reach its zenith. Before attempting to trace -the course of his art from its simple beginnings to its glorious close, -a few brief words may be desirable as to his early life and -surroundings. - -Born, it is usually supposed (but by no means known with certainty), in -1775, of humble parents--his father was a barber in Maiden Lane, -Strand--at a quite early age he developed unusual powers of drawing. The -barber proudly exposed his boy’s works in his shop window, and -occasionally sold them for a shilling or two apiece; he also showed them -to his customers, amongst whom was Thomas Stothard, R.A., who praised -them and advised him to make an artist of his son. It is impossible -accurately to trace his life before 1789, when he was presumably -fourteen, but it is clear that he had only some brief intervals of -schooling, first at a suburban and then at a sea-side academy--both -probably of the cheapest and poorest middle-class type--in fact he never -had any education worthy the name. He received lessons in drawing, -however, from various teachers, including Malton and probably Paul -Sandby, R.A. At about twelve or thirteen years of age, he was placed in -the workshop of the great mezzotint engraver, John Raphael Smith, who, -like many of his craft, was also a print dealer. Here Turner, along with -his future companion Girtin, was chiefly occupied in colouring prints -for sale, but he also learnt a great deal about engraving which was to -stand him in good stead in after life. After possibly another interval -of schooling, he passed, somewhere about his fourteenth year, into the -office of Mr. Hardwick, a distinguished architect, who employed him in -drawing and tinting “elevations,” adding landscape backgrounds to plans, -etc. It was here, no doubt, that he laid the foundation of the fine -architectural draughtsmanship which is noticeable in his earliest -exhibited works and throughout his life. Long before he had mastered -trees and foliage he could render accurately the lines and structure of -a great building, as well as its intricacies of detail, as, for example, -in the _West Front of Peterborough Cathedral_, which he exhibited at the -Royal Academy a year or two later. Water, also, seems to have presented -comparatively little difficulty to him from the first; owing possibly to -early studies at Brentford and Margate, at both or which places he was -at school. Very few, however, of his quite boyish drawings--I refer to -those before 1790--have survived, and those few are mostly copies of -prints or of works of other artists. One, _Folly Bridge and Bacon’s -Tower, Oxford_ (taken from the heading of an Oxford Almanack), may be -seen in the National Gallery (No. 613 N.G.); another in my possession, -_A Roadside Inn_--the earliest dated work by him (1786) known to me--is -possibly original, but more probably copied from a drawing by M. A. -Rooker, A.R.A. - -From the architect’s office, at the instigation it is believed of Mr. -Hardwick himself, Turner in 1789 became a student at the Royal Academy, -and may be said to have definitely taken up an artist’s career. In the -following year, 1790, he sent his first drawing to the Royal Academy -Exhibition, then held in Somerset House. This was the _View of the -Archbishop’s Palace, Lambeth_, reproduced here (Plate I.). For the work -of a boy of fifteen, the good architectural drawing, the admirable -rendering of reflected light on the houses, the careful treatment of the -figures (the costumes are quite correct for 1790), and still more, the -effectiveness of the composition are remarkable. There is, however, -nothing original in the style, which is simply that of Malton and -Sandby. - -To the next year’s exhibition (1791) he sent two drawings, one of which, -_The Interior of King John’s Palace, Eltham_, is a striking work, of -great originality. Not only has it the sound architectural -draughtsmanship before alluded to, but in its strong _chiaroscuro_, its -rendering of sunlight breaking through the ruined windows and lighting -the gloom, its sense of poetry and mystery, it would be creditable to -any artist of mature age. - -A curious phase in Turner’s work of the next year--1792--merits notice. -Influenced probably by the pictures of De Loutherbourg, a French -painter, who had settled in England and had been made an R.A., Turner, -for a few months entirely changed his scheme of colour, adopting a -curious range of greyish and purplish browns as his prevailing tone, in -place of the pale greys, blues, and neutral tints, which, in common with -the other water-colour painters of the period, he had hitherto employed. -In this style are several drawings of Richmond Park, one or two of a -fire at the Pantheon, and many of the beautiful scenery on the downs -beyond Bristol, where, during his early life, he often stayed with -relatives. One, _The Mouth of the Avon_, is reproduced here (Plate II.). -In nearly all the Bristol drawings one special feature is noticeable. -Turner had evidently been struck by the unusual spectacle of the masts -and sails of the tall East-Indiamen, which were daily to be seen in full -sail under the thick woods of the Clifton downs, beating their way up -the narrow gorge of the Avon to the port of Bristol. - -Turner continued to exhibit at the Royal Academy in 1793 and 1794. He -sold his drawings readily, and, although I cannot discover any public -references to his work before 1796, he must have attracted notice, as in -1793 he received a commission--his first--for drawings for engraving. -The “Copper-plate Magazine” (afterwards known as “The Itinerant”) was -one of many serials then in vogue which were illustrated by the -water-colour painters--“draftsmen” they were usually called--and in one -of its five volumes he is alluded to as “the ingenious Mr. Turner.” He -is said to have been paid two guineas apiece for these drawings, with a -very small allowance for travelling expenses, it being stipulated that -every subject should be drawn on the spot. With his slender wardrobe and -his painting materials on his back, carrying usually also his -fishing-rod, he tramped the country; he found his way into Kent, across -Wales, through Shropshire and Cheshire, on to Cumberland, and returned -by the Midlands. A reproduction of one of the “Copperplate Magazine” -drawings--_Peterborough Cathedral from the North_--will be found here -(Plate III.). Although on a small scale, it is typical of his work of -this period, and it shows the strong influence on him of his -contemporaries, Rooker, Hearne, and Dayes; yet there is always a decided -individuality of his own. As the late Mr. Cosmo Monkhouse[A] has well -remarked of these early drawings:-- - - “The great fact in comparing Turner and the other water-colour - painters of his own time is this, that while each of the best of - the others is remarkable for one or two special beauties of style - or effect, he is remarkable for all. He could reach near, if not - quite, to the golden simplicity of Girtin, to the silver sweetness - of Cozens; he could draw trees with the delicate dexterity of - Edridge, and equal the beautiful distances of Glover.... He was not - only technically the equal, if not the master of them all, but he - comprehended them, almost without exception.” - -About this time (1793), Turner had the good fortune to attract the -notice of Dr. Monro, the leading Physician of Bethlehem Hospital, who -had a house in the Adelphi, and another at Bushey. He was a well-known -lover and patron of water-colour art, and was in the habit of inviting -promising young students, including Turner, Girtin, Varley, and other -afterwards well-known artists, to his house, where they were given -drawings by Rembrandt, Canaletto, Gainsborough, and other deceased -masters, to study and copy; especially also some recent sketches by John -Cozens, one of the most poetical of English painters, who had just -returned from Italy and Switzerland, where he had accompanied the -millionaire Beckford. The influence of Cozens on Turner was marked and -immediate, and the latter must have made a very large number of -transcripts of the elder painter’s works; in fact, all the very numerous -early drawings of Italian and Swiss subjects by Turner in Indian ink and -blue, which are so frequently to be met with, are copies from Cozens, as -Turner did not visit the Continent until 1802; yet, as I have before -remarked, all show a certain transformation in passing through his -hands. Dr. Monro gave the lads half-a-crown a night and their supper, -and kept their drawings. The training was an admirable one for them, and -when the doctor’s collection was dispersed at his death, it did not -prove a bad investment so far as he was concerned. Mr. Henderson, -another collector and amateur artist, afforded Turner and his companions -similar opportunities of studying and copying the works of older -painters. - -From 1793 to 1796 Turner’s advance in power was steady. His subjects -were varied--English and Welsh cathedrals, old castles, ruined abbeys, -village churches, country towns, waterfalls and trout streams--the -latter generally with a bridge and always with an angler. He was himself -a keen fisherman, and his anglers’ attitudes are always carefully drawn -and at once recognisable. Occasionally some striking atmospheric effect, -seen probably on the spot, is introduced. Sometimes the picture is -strikingly enhanced by the play of sunlight, occasionally by boldly -treated _chiaroscuro_. The architecture is invariably drawn with -accuracy and taste, both as regards perspective and detail. His -colouring was a dainty harmony of broken tints in pale blues, greens, -browns, and neutral greys. Many good drawings of this time are in -private collections, and the Print Room of the British Museum contains -some fine examples which have been preserved from light, and are -consequently in perfect, unfaded condition--notably _Lincoln and -Worcester Cathedrals_, and _Tintern Abbey_. Most of the English -cathedrals were drawn by him between 1793 and 1796, including, in -addition to the two just named, Canterbury, Ely, Peterborough, -Rochester, Salisbury, and York; as well as Bath, Kirkstall, Malmesbury, -Malvern, Tintern, Ewenny, Llanthony, Waltham and many other abbeys, -together with castles innumerable--all in the delicate, “tinted manner.” -He also made a large number of studies of boats and shipping at Dover, -one of which is reproduced here (Plate IV.). It was probably there and -at Margate that he laid the foundation of the extraordinarily accurate -knowledge of everything connected with the sea and shipping which -distinguished him all his life. - -His works of this early period are usually signed. The earliest -signature known to me is the one alluded to on page 5, “W. Turner, -1786.” For the next few years he signed either simply “Turner,” or -oftener “W. Turner,” occasionally adding the date. In 1799, when he was -elected an Associate of the Royal Academy, he changed to “W. Turner, -A.R.A.,” and in 1802, on receiving the honour of full membership, he -became “J. M. W. Turner, R.A.” A few years later he was appointed -Professor of Perspective to the Royal Academy, and much to the -amusement of his fellow academicians he now sometimes added “P.P.” In -the works of his later life, it is the exception to find any signature. - -In Turner’s drawings of this period, as in those of the early English -water-colour school generally, one is struck by a freshness, a -simplicity, a new outlook on nature, which contrast with the works of -the classical painters who since the death of Rubens and the great Dutch -landscapists--Van Goyen, Cuyp, Hobbema, Van der Capelle, De Koninck, and -others--had for a century or more dominated European art. Landscape had -come to be regarded more as a fitting background to classical story, and -although often stately, was always more or less conventional. Now, -Nature was beginning to be studied and painted for her own sake. Yet -Turner, like Byron, throughout his life recognised that natural scenery -_alone_ never makes a completely satisfying picture--always there must -be some touch of the human element, some suggestion of human presence, -human handiwork. This, however, is entirely a different point of view -from that of the classical painters. - -From the delicate tints which, up to 1795-6, had characterized the work -of Turner, in common with that of his contemporaries of the English -water-colour school, he passed, almost suddenly, in 1797, to a larger -and stronger style and a bolder range of colour, although the latter was -still limited as compared with the fuller tones of his middle and later -years. At first, in 1796, the pale blues and greens were simply deepened -and strongly accented, as was seen in the superb drawings of _Snowdon_ -and _Cader Idris_ which were shown last year (1908) at the -Franco-British Exhibition, and to some extent in the _Distant View of -Exeter_, in the Tatham Sale of the same year. Soon, however, these tones -were combined and contrasted with deep, rich, golden browns. In 1797, -1798, and 1799, Turner sent to the Royal Academy Exhibitions a series of -magnificent drawings of large size, all showing a striking advance in -range and power. Eight views of _Salisbury Cathedral_ painted for Sir R. -Colt Hoare (two are in the Victoria and Albert Museum), the fine _Crypt -of Kirkstall Abbey_ (Sloane Museum), the still finer _Warkworth_ -(Victoria and Albert Museum) and the famous _Norham Castle_ (the late -Mr. Laundy Walters), with several others, mark a new departure in his -art. Turner always said that he owed his success in life to the _Norham -Castle_. Thirty years later, when he was illustrating Scott’s works, and -was the guest of Sir Walter at Abbotsford, walking up Tweedside one day -in the company of Cadell the publisher, as they passed Norham Turner -took off his hat. On Cadell asking the reason, he replied, “That picture -made me.” Probably he considered that it was to its influence that he -owed his election as an Associate of the Royal Academy in 1799, the year -of its exhibition. - -Some recent writers have contended that this great expansion of Turner’s -art was due to the influence of his friend and companion Thomas Girtin, -but they have adduced no evidence to support that theory. Girtin, it is -needless to say, was a very great painter, and his early death in 1802 -was a severe loss to English art. And no doubt he and Turner, in their -constant intimacy, must have continually and considerably affected each -other--indeed up to 1795 it is often exceedingly difficult to -distinguish between the two men’s work. But, so far as I have been able -to study Girtin’s early drawings, I cannot discover in those executed -before 1797--the year which witnessed Turner’s new departure--any of the -breadth and boldness which marked both men from 1797 onwards. Certainly -no work of Girtin’s of 1796--the year previous--approaches in force -Turner’s _Snowdon_ and _Cader Idris_, which already in design if not in -colour herald his all-round expansion of 1797. - -Nor does the current opinion of that day appear to support the view just -alluded to--quite the contrary. The “St. James’s Chronicle” of 1797, -after praising Turner’s _Transept of Ewenny Priory_ and _Choir of -Salisbury Cathedral_ in the Royal Academy Exhibition of that year, goes -on to remark that, “Mr. Girtin’s drawings in general _appear to be -formed in the style of Turner_.” Again, “The Sun” of 1799 devotes a long -paragraph to the eulogy of Turner’s _Carnarvon Castle_, concluding with -the remark, “This is a drawing that Claude might be proud to own”; it -then praises Girtin’s _Bethgellert_, but prefaces its notice with the -observation “We do not remember to have seen the name of the artist -before the present year. _The drawing is something after the style of -the preceding artist_” [Turner]. Redgrave also effectually disposes of -the question in “A Century of Painters,” 1866, Vol. II., page 402. - -Moreover, Turner’s great drawings of 1797, 1798 and 1799 have -characteristics which are not at all those of Girtin. Already there is -visible something of that wonderful delicacy, that sense of mystery, of -‘infinity,’ that indefinable charm which we call ‘poetry,’ which -distinguishes his work--and especially his work in water-colour--from -that of every other landscape painter--work all the more remarkable in -that it proceeded from a man born in a back lane off the Strand, without -any education worthy of the name, and throughout his life unable to -speak or write grammatically--yet withal a man of strong intellect, -keenly ambitious, a reader, and a voluminous writer of poetry. - -One drawing only of this period is reproduced here--_Distant View of -Lichfield Cathedral_ (Plate V.). It suffers from the unavoidable -reduction in size, but it is characteristic of Turner’s altered style. -Unfortunately it has at some time been varnished, probably by the -painter himself, as have two others equally important, of the same -period--_The Refectory of Fountains Abbey_ and a replica of the _Cader -Idris_--both of which are now in America. Gainsborough treated several -of his drawings similarly, as did Girtin, Varley, Barrett and others of -the early English school, their object being avowedly to rival in -water-colour the depth and richness of oil painting. But not -unfrequently, as here in the _Lichfield_, the varnish in time -disintegrates the colouring matter and produces a curious _granulated_ -look, not unlike aquatint. Indeed, the fine _Fountains Abbey_ just -alluded to was sold not many years ago at a well-known London auction -room, as a coloured aquatint, and fetched only £5. - -After Turner’s election in 1799 as an Associate of the Royal Academy, he -exhibited fewer water-colours and more oil pictures, although he was -continually producing drawings, mostly of large size and on commission. -For the next few years his style did not greatly alter, although a -steady growth in power and range is visible. Several large views of -_Edinburgh_ and its neighbourhood, a series of _Fonthill_ commissioned -by Beckford, another of _Chepstow_ executed for the Earl of Harewood, -together with the Welsh castles of _Conway_, _Carnarvon_, _St. Donat’s_ -and _Pembroke_, are among the most important. The _Stonehenge_ -reproduced here (Plate VII.) is probably the work of about 1803-1804. - -He made also during this period a few drawings for engraving, but, with -the exception of the well-known _Oxford Almanacks_, these were chiefly -on a small scale and gave him but little scope; nor was he fortunate in -his engravers until in James Basire, the engraver to the University, he -met with an artist of higher standing. The University commissioned from -Turner ten large drawings for the headings of the _Oxford Almanacks_, -all of which he executed between 1798 and 1804. They are preserved in -the University Galleries, and are noticeable alike for their -architectural draughtsmanship, their admirable composition, and their -general breadth of treatment. - -About this time, and also in connection with a commission for engraving, -he was first attracted to that Yorkshire scenery which was afterwards to -have such an important influence on his career. Dr. Whitaker, the Vicar -of Whalley, on the borders of Lancashire and Yorkshire, a wealthy and -learned antiquary, required some illustrations for his forthcoming -“History of the Parish of Whalley,” and Turner was recommended to him, -it is said by a Harrogate bookseller, as a young artist of fast-rising -reputation. It was during this visit that he made the acquaintance of -Mr. Walter Fawkes, the squire of Farnley, near Leeds, at whose -hospitable mansion, Farnley Hall, he was shortly to become a frequent -and an honoured guest. - - * * * * * - -It is time that reference should be made to the _sketches_, which form -such an important part of the volume of Turner’s work in water-colour. -From the outset of his career, on every journey, he made copious -studies--at first mainly in pencil, but sometimes in water-colour and -occasionally in crayon or oil--of every paintable spot he visited, -keeping usually a separate pocket-book for each tour. The sketches were -sometimes rapid, sometimes elaborate. Especially he made notes in colour -of skies, clouds, water, and any striking atmospheric effects which he -might chance to see. These although often slight, and usually swiftly -executed, were nevertheless singularly accurate. In a pocket-book of -1798 I find twenty-five such, with a list describing each:--_Twilight_, -_Clear_, _Rain Coming_, _Sunny_, _Crimsoned_, _Showery_, _Gathering -after Fog_, and so on. These sketches and studies he continued to make -and to store throughout his life, even up to his last journey on the -Continent in 1845. By the decision of the Court of Chancery, at the end -of a long litigation over his will, they were awarded--nineteen thousand -in all--to be the property of the nation, and after many years delay -they are now being admirably arranged and catalogued at the National -Gallery by Mr. Finberg, who writes on them here. It is needless to say -that to the student of Turner’s life work they are of the utmost -interest and importance, and often--especially the later ones--of -surpassing beauty. The examples which have recently (1908) been placed -on view in the National Gallery are mostly of Turner’s earlier periods, -but one or two belong to quite the close of his life; some are drawings -nearly finished but discarded. - -In 1802 Turner visited the Continent for the first time. He was -naturally impressed with Calais, his first French town, and on his -return he painted the well-known picture of _Calais Pier_ (National -Gallery), and the still magnificent but now much darkened _Vintage at -Mâcon_ (the Earl of Yarborough). But it was in Switzerland, Savoy and -Piedmont that he spent most of his time, and the results may be seen in -the fine drawings of Bonneville, Chamounix, and the Lake of Geneva in -various collections, the _Falls of the Reichenbach_, the _Glacier and -Source of the Arveron_, and others at Farnley, and the superb large -body-colour sketches of _The Devil’s Bridge_ and the _St. Gothard Pass_, -in the portfolios of the National Gallery. Three of his Swiss drawings -he sent to the Royal Academy Exhibition of 1803. - -From 1803 to 1812 he was continually receiving commissions, both for oil -pictures and water-colours, from influential patrons, including the -Earls of Egremont, Essex, Lonsdale, and Yarborough, Sir John Leicester, -Sir John Soane, and other wealthy amateurs. In 1807 he started his -well-known _Liber Studiorum_ in rivalry of the _Liber Veritatis_ of -Claude Lorraine, which had recently been successfully reproduced in -engraving by English publishers. For this he made about a hundred -drawings in sepia--a colour he rarely used elsewhere--as guides for the -professional engravers whom he employed on the work. Nearly all these -drawings, which are mostly slight, are now in the National Gallery. - -During the ten years between 1803 and 1812, Turner’s style in -water-colour underwent a gradual, but a very considerable change. He -left the dark blues and deep golden browns which, as we have seen, -marked his first departure in 1797 from the “tinted manner” of his early -days, and he gradually adopted a lighter and more natural range of -colour. This new style is best seen in the work of what is known as his -“Yorkshire period,” which began about 1809, and continued, with various -developments, up to about 1820. His subjects were at first mainly taken -from the neighbourhood of the stately house in the beautiful valley of -the Wharfe which has become a place of pilgrimage to Turner students -from all parts of the world--I refer, of course, to Farnley Hall. Its -then owner, Mr. Walter Fawkes, was up to his death a kind friend and -liberal patron of the painter, who was a frequent visitor at the house, -and retained the friendship of the family down to his latest years. -Farnley Hall is still filled with drawings by Turner of its -surroundings, the neighbouring Wharfedale, important Swiss and other -foreign landscapes, illustrations to Scott’s and Byron’s Poems, studies -of birds, fish, etc. It also contains some important oil pictures by -him. To one series of water-colours--the “Rhine Sketches”--I shall have -occasion to refer later. - -Ruskin admirably describes the characteristics of these ‘Yorkshire -drawings’ (“Modern Painters,” Vol. I., pp. 124, 125):-- - - “Of all his [Turner’s] drawings, I think those of the Yorkshire - series have the most heart in them, the most affectionate, simple, - unwearied serious finishings of truth. There is in them little - seeking after effect, but a strong love of place; little exhibition - of the artist’s own powers or peculiarities, but intense - appreciation of the smallest local minutiæ. These drawings have, - unfortunately, changed hands frequently, and have been abused and - ill-treated by picture-dealers and cleaners; the greater number are - now mere wrecks. I name them not as instances, but proofs of the - artist’s study in this district; for the affection to which they - owe their origin must have been grounded long years before.... - - “It is, I believe, to these broad, wooded steeps and swells of the - Yorkshire downs that we, in part, owe the singular massiveness that - prevails in Turner’s mountain drawing, and gives it one of its - chief elements of grandeur.... I am in the habit of looking to the - Yorkshire drawings as indicating one of the culminating points of - Turner’s career. In these he attained the highest degree of what he - had up to that time attempted, namely, finish and quantity of form, - united with expression of atmosphere, and light without colour. His - early drawings are singularly instructive in this definiteness and - simplicity of aim.” ... “Turner evidently felt that the claims upon - his regard possessed by those places which first had opened to him - the joy and the labour of his life could never be superseded. No - alpine cloud could efface, no Italian sunshine outshine the - memories of the pleasant days of Rokeby and Bolton; and many a - simple promontory dim with southern olive, many a lone cliff that - stooped unnoticed over some alien wave, was recorded by him with a - love and delicate care that were the shadows of old thoughts and - long-lost delights, whose charm yet hung like morning mist above - the chanting waves of Wharfe and Greta.” - -From 1809 to 1820, Turner’s powers were rapidly developing, and he was -producing many important oil pictures, some of which--_The Frosty -Morning_, _Crossing the Brook_, _Somer Hill_, _Walton Bridges_ and _Raby -Castle_--were, perhaps, among the finest of his whole life. He was also -busy with drawings for engraving--chiefly for book illustrations, and -probably for this reason he seems to have executed comparatively few -water-colours for commissions or for sale. One, however, the magnificent -_Chryses_ (Mrs. T. Ashton), which he sent to the Royal Academy in 1811, -calls for notice. It is a large, impressive work, closely resembling in -design the _Glaucus and Scylla_ of the _Liber Studiorum_, but on a -broader and nobler scale; the colour-scheme intermediate between that of -his early and his middle time. What is so remarkable is its -extraordinary _Greek_ feeling. Colour apart, it at once recalls the -scenery and the sentiment of the Greek Islands, although Turner never in -his life saw them. Many will remember the effect which the drawing -produced in the Winter Exhibition of 1887 at Burlington House. Mr. -Morland Agnew’s beautiful _Scarborough_, reproduced here (Plate VIII.), -also belongs to this period. - -One of Turner’s earliest series of book illustrations was his “Southern -Coast of England,” which he began about 1812 and continued to 1826. He -agreed with W. B. Cooke, a fine line-engraver and an enterprising -publisher, to supply forty drawings of views along the coast, from the -Nore on the east to the Bristol Channel on the west; many other leading -water-colour artists of the day--De Wint, Clennell, Prout, and -others--being also contributors. Turner was to receive seven and a half -guineas apiece for the drawings, which were of small size; but although -this price was soon raised to ten, and later to twelve guineas, he -became dissatisfied, and broke with Cooke, who, however, judging from -the correspondence, appears to have treated him fairly. He had, -moreover, given him many other commissions for drawings and had held -exhibitions of these, and the engravings from them, at his rooms in Soho -Square. - -The Southern Coast drawings are elaborate, highly finished, and in a -rather warmer tone of colour than hitherto. Many are extremely -beautiful, but in some there is visible that crowding of lights and -foreground figures, which from this time onwards is not unfrequent in -Turner’s work. The majority of the drawings are now, alas, so faded as -to give but little idea of their pristine beauty. What they all were -like originally, may still be seen in the beautiful _Clovelly Bay_ in -the National Gallery of Ireland (Vaughan Bequest), and in the _Lulworth -Cove_ reproduced here (Plate IX.). - -About the same time, Turner made a fine series of drawings, all on a -large scale, of the beautiful country which lies inland among the hills, -between Hastings and Tunbridge Wells. These were commissions from a -well-known and eccentric M.P., “Jack Fuller,” whose country-seat “Rose -Hall” (now known as “Brightling Park”) lies in the heart of that -neighbourhood. Four were effectively engraved as coloured aquatints, but -were never published; the rest were reproduced as Line Engravings in the -“Views of Hastings and its Vicinity” (afterwards called “Views in -Sussex”), published a few years later. The series remained for a long -time unbroken, but it was dispersed at Christie’s last year (1908). All -the “Sussex” drawings were of the highest quality, sober in colour and -treatment, as befitted the character of the scenery, but the majority -have been badly faded by long years of exposure to sunlight. - -Somewhat similar in character to the “Southern Coast” drawings, but a -little later and even more highly finished, is a series which Turner -made in 1818-1819 from _camera obscura_ sketches by Hakewill, an -architect, to illustrate the latter’s “Picturesque Tour in Italy,” -published in 1820. Ruskin, who possessed many of these, ranked them very -highly and frequently alludes to them in “Modern Painters” and -elsewhere. In the “Notes on his Drawings by J. M. W. Turner, R.A., -1878,” his last important work on art, he describes them (p. 22) as “a -series which expresses the mind of Turner in its consummate power, but -not yet in its widest range. Ordering to himself still the same limits -in method and aim, he reaches under these conditions the summit of -excellence, and of all these drawings there is but one criticism -possible--they ‘cannot be better done’.” By the kindness of Mr. Morland -Agnew, two of the “Hakewill” series, _The Lake of Nemi_ (Plate XI.) and -_Turin from the Superga_ (Plate XII.), are reproduced here. - -In 1817 or 1818 Turner began the drawings which were to illustrate one -of his most famous works, the sumptuous “History of Richmondshire,” -which still admittedly remains the finest topographical book ever -published. The subjects--which were chosen for Turner by a local -committee of gentlemen--were all taken from that romantic district in -the North Riding of Yorkshire, on the borders of Lancashire and -Westmorland, of which the town of Richmond is the centre. The work was -to be the _magnum opus_ of Dr. Whitaker whose earlier Histories of -Whalley and Craven had also been illustrated by Turner, and his -publishers, Messrs. Longman, spared neither pains nor expense in its -production. Turner was paid twenty-five guineas each--then his usual -price--for the drawings, which are now worth from one to three thousand -guineas apiece. Although simple in style and in colouring as compared -with the work of his later years, they have pre-eminently the charm of -the ‘Yorkshire period’ already alluded to. The finest of the series, -_The Crook of the Lune_, is, by the courtesy of its owner, the Rev. W. -MacGregor, reproduced here (Plate XIII.). The necessary reduction in -size makes it difficult fully to appreciate the great beauty of this -drawing, which I regard as one of the most consummate works of Turner. -Although it must have been, one would imagine, a most intricate and -difficult subject for a painter, and notwithstanding that he has treated -it with extraordinary minuteness of detail--you can find at least twenty -different walks in it--yet all this wealth of exquisite detail is -perfectly subordinated to the unity and harmony of the composition as a -whole. The other “Richmondshire” drawings are scattered in various -collections; many, alas, are sadly faded from constant exposure to -light, notably the _Hornby Castle_, in the Victoria and Albert Museum, -which has become a complete wreck. - -May I be permitted here to draw attention to the fact--apparently little -known, but none the less true--that, with the exception of some of the -darker early works, _no Turner drawing can be continuously exposed -unprotected to light, without its ruin being eventually only a question -of time_. The more delicate--the more “Turneresque” it is--the quicker -will that ruin be accomplished. Usually the fading is so gradual that -it is unnoticed by the owner, but it is certain, and, it need not be -added, the depreciation in value is equally certain. I would refer -anyone who thinks this an over-statement to the Blue Book on the -subject, published in 1888 (Report of the Science and Art Department on -the Action of Light on Water-Colours. H.M. Stationery Office, 1888). -Several striking object lessons of the effect of exposure may also be -seen at the National Gallery in Turner drawings which have been returned -after exhibition in provincial Galleries. - -Up to about 1830, Turner’s finished drawings were mainly in transparent -water-colour, but from a quite early period he employed body-colour in -his sketches, especially whenever speed was necessary. “Body-colour,” it -need hardly be said, is ordinary paint mixed with Chinese white or some -other opaque white substance in place of water, and is frequently used -on a grey or neutral coloured paper, by which means the work is much -more rapid. He had recourse to that method on one memorable occasion. In -1817 he went for a three weeks’ tour in the Rhine district, and during -that time produced no less than fifty drawings of fair size, _i.e._, at -the rate of about three a day. He first stained the paper a uniform -bluish-grey, which, although itself sombre in tone, effectively shows up -the body-colour work, and must have effected an immense economy of time -as compared with ordinary transparent colour. When he returned to -England he took the drawings in a roll straight to Farnley Hall, and Mr. -Fawkes, to his delight, bought them at once for £500. For a long time -they remained in a portfolio unbroken, one of the treasures of the -house, but a few years ago some were dispersed at Christie’s. One of -these, _Goarhausen and Katz Castle_, is reproduced here (Plate X.). - -In 1818 Turner went North to make drawings for “The Provincial -Antiquities of Scotland,” an important illustrated work in which Sir -Walter Scott, then in the height of his Waverley fame, was keenly -interested, and for which he was gratuitously writing the letterpress. -Sir Walter wished the illustrations to be given to a fellow Scotsman, -the Rev. John Thomson, of Duddingston, an able landscape painter, but -the publishers insisted that Turner’s was the name in vogue with the -public, and the work was accordingly divided. The drawings, which are -all highly finished and of fine quality, are entirely of Lowland -scenery, including _Bothwell_, _Crichton_, and _Roslyn_ castles, three -or four Edinburgh subjects--one, _Edinburgh from the Calton Hill_, very -striking--and the seaside fortresses of _Tantallon_ and _Dunbar_. They -were afterwards presented by the publishers to Sir Walter in recognition -of his services in ensuring the success of the book, and they remained -at Abbotsford until quite recent years. - -In 1819 Turner paid his first visit to Rome, and remained there some -time, going a good deal into English society at the Embassy and -elsewhere. He painted a few oil pictures, but not many water-colours; -among the most interesting is a fine series of studies in the Campagna, -most of which are in the National Gallery. (The “Hakewill” drawings of -Rome were probably all finished before he left England.) - -His visit to Rome would appear on the whole to have unfavourably -affected his art. His oil paintings especially, from this time began to -be more and more fantastic in subject, florid in colour, and complicated -in design. No doubt there are brilliant exceptions, such as _Childe -Harold’s Pilgrimage_, and others, but the old simplicity and sobriety -had gone. In the water-colours also the tendency to “foxiness” and -florid colour is noticeable, although not so pronounced; it is visible -in the Campagna sketches just alluded to. The change was soon recognised -by his admirers. In 1820 (the year following), I find in the “Annals of -the Fine Arts” the following discriminating criticism of an exhibition -of his works which was held that year at the town house of Mr. Fawkes of -Farnley:-- - - “Turner appears here in his original splendour and to his greatest - advantage. Those who only know the artist of late and from his - academical works will hardly believe the grandeur, simplicity and - beauty that pervade his best works in this collection.... The - earlier works of Turner before he visited Rome and those he has - done since for this collection are like works of a different - artist. The former, natural, simple and effective; the latter, - artificial, glaring and affected.” - -From 1820 until about 1840, apart from his sketches, Turner’s work in -water-colour was almost entirely for engraving. This entailed a great -demand on his time, as he invariably also supervised the execution of -each engraving. Proof after proof had to be submitted to him, to be -returned by him again and again, touched, scraped, and drawn upon for -correction, before he would pass it. As he had an intimate knowledge of -the engravers’ technical processes and always took pains to explain to -them his _reasons_ for the alterations which he required, he gradually -educated them to understand his aims and methods, and so stimulated -their ambition, that the best of their plates mark probably the highest -point which landscape engraving in line has ever touched. I refer -especially to those of “The Southern Coast,” Rogers’s “Poems” and -“Italy,” “Byron’s Works,” “Scott’s Poetical and Prose Works,” and -“Picturesque Views in England and Wales.” - -In 1824 we find Turner at work on the well-known “Rivers of England,” -the drawings for which, along with its companion series “The Ports of -England,” have for so many years--too many, alas, for their -welfare--been exposed for long periods and daily copied at the National -Gallery. These show a richer and more elaborate colour-scheme, as -compared with the simpler work of the “Yorkshire” period. An example, -the _Norham Castle_ (No. XIV.), is given here. Both series were well -reproduced in mezzotint on steel, which metal had just begun to -supersede copper for engraving. - -In 1826 he commenced what was to have been his _magnum opus_ in line -engraving--his “Picturesque Views in England and Wales.” In this -ill-fated work, which was from first to last commercially a failure, he -proposed to depict every feature of English and Welsh scenery--cathedral -cities, country towns, ancient castles, ruined abbeys, rivers, -mountains, moors, lakes and sea-coast; every hour of day--dawn, midday, -sunset, twilight, moonlight; every kind of weather and atmosphere. The -hundred or more drawings which he made for the work are mostly -elaborately finished and of high character. Some are perhaps -over-elaborated; in some the figures are carelessly and at times -disagreeably drawn; but for imaginative, poetical treatment, masterly -composition, and exquisite colour, the best are unsurpassed. I have -ventured to say elsewhere, that in my opinion there are at least a dozen -drawings in the “England and Wales” series any one of which would alone -have been sufficient to have placed its author in the highest rank of -landscape art. Two of the series are represented here--Mr. Schwann’s -beautiful _Launceston_ (Plate XV.) is the earlier (1827); the striking -and very attractive _Cowes_ (Plate XVIII.), belonging to Mr. Yates, is a -few years later. Turner was paid at the rate of sixty to seventy guineas -apiece--to-day they are worth from one thousand to two thousand five -hundred guineas each. - -A new phase in his water-colour art of 1830-1836 calls for notice, viz., -his numerous small drawings for _vignette_ illustrations, the first and -the most important of which were for the far-famed plates of Rogers’s -“Poems” and “Italy.” The drawings for these are markedly different from -any of his previous work, and many of them strike what I cannot but -regard as an unpleasant note. Marvels of execution, delicate, highly -imaginative, and poetical in feeling as they are, they are often -strangely forced and extravagant in _colour_. And this applies to nearly -all his drawings for _vignettes_. Probably his reason for thus -falsifying his colour was connected with the form of engraving, as at -the same time he was producing some of his finest and sanest work for -the “England and Wales,” “Turner’s Annual Tours” (now better known as -the “Rivers of France”) and other engravings of ordinary (not vignette) -shape. Whatever may have been his motive, it appears to me that owing -to this unnatural colouring, the exquisitely engraved vignettes -themselves are in many cases finer than the drawings for them. - -Many, however, of the small drawings of this time are superb, including -several of those on grey paper. In the “Rivers of France” series, -_Jumièges_, _Caudebec_, _Saint Denis_, _Rouen from St. Catherine’s -Hill_, and _The Light Towers of the Hêve_ (all in the National Gallery), -are masterpieces, as are also many of the illustrations to “Scott’s -Poetical and Prose Works.” In Turner’s later years he frequently did not -sell his drawings for engravings, but lent them to the publishers, -charging usually five to seven guineas apiece. He kept many in his -possession up to his death, as he did nearly the whole of his sketches. -One day he brought the sixty drawings for the “Rivers of France” to -Ruskin, rolled in dirty brown paper, offering them to him for -twenty-five guineas apiece. To Ruskin’s grief he could not induce his -father to spend the money. In later years he tells us he had to pay -£1,000 for the seventeen which he gave to Oxford! - -A long succession of books were illustrated by Turner between 1830 and -1836, containing in all nearly three hundred and fifty plates, mostly of -small size. When it is remembered that he also closely supervised the -smallest details in the engraving of each one, and that at the same time -he was engaged on a number of oil pictures of the highest importance -many of which were finished and exhibited, and others left in various -stages of completion (including most of those recently added to the Tate -Gallery), it may be doubted if such a volume of work was ever before -produced in six years by any painter. With 1838, however, his work for -the engravers practically came to an end. He was now a rich man and able -to refuse tempting offers for the pictures which he had determined to -leave to the nation; as for example his _Old Téméraire_, which a wealthy -Midland manufacturer is said to have offered to cover with sovereigns. - -From 1838 to 1845, when his health began to fail, he spent an increasing -time each year on the Continent, and it was during this period that his -water-colour art passed into what many regard as its highest, as it was -its latest phase. I refer especially to the magnificent _Sketches_ of -this time, the large majority of which are in the National Gallery. He -revisited Venice, which had cast her enchantment on him in earlier -years, and he returned again and again to the Lake of Lucerne, which, -after Yorkshire, was probably, up to the last, of all places in the -world the dearest to his heart. It would be difficult to say how many -times he drew the town, the lake, the mountains, and especially the -Righi. There are the _Red Righi_, the _Blue Righi_, the _Dark Righi_, -the _Pale Righi_, and a hundred other versions--each different, each a -‘vision of delight.’ He made drawings also in many neighbouring parts -of Switzerland, Piedmont, and Savoy. - -The sketches and drawings of this period have all the old delicacy, -combined with a greater breadth of treatment, and an amazing wealth and -range of colour. Sixty years’ experience had given Turner’s hand--which -up to the very last retained its extraordinary delicacy and certainty--a -marvellous cunning. In many cases the drawings were swiftly painted, in -others carefully stippled in details; usually with a dry brush worked -over body-colour. Sir Hickman Bacon’s beautiful _Swiss Lake_ (Plate -XXII.), _Lausanne_ (Plate XXV.), _The Seelisberg, Moonlight_ (Plate -XXVIII.), Mr. Ralph Brocklebank’s highly finished _Schaffhausen_ (Plate -XXIX.), and _Tell’s Chapel, Fluelen_ (Plate XXX.)--which Ruskin believed -to be Turner’s last sketch on the Continent--along with most of the -reproductions from the National Gallery, are examples of this time. - -This last phase of Turner’s art was, however, at the time neither -understood nor appreciated, probably owing largely to the new -development which had recently taken place in his oil pictures. In these -he had set himself, in his old age, the last and hardest tasks of his -life--the painting of pure light, of swift movement, of the tumultuous, -elemental forces of Nature. Some of the _Venice_ subjects, the -marvellous _Snow Storm at Sea_, and the _Rain, Steam and Speed_, were -entirely misunderstood and ridiculed. “Blackwood’s Magazine” led the -attack, and “Punch” and Thackeray added their satire. No doubt several -of his late oil pictures were far-fetched in subject, fantastic in -treatment, and eccentric in colour. Probably, also, no one knew better -than he that he had not reached the goal of his ambition; but he also -knew that his critics understood his aims as little as they did the -difficulties which he had to encounter in striving to reach them, and -the old man felt the attacks keenly. Ruskin tells us that he came one -evening to his father’s house in Denmark Hill, after an especially -bitter onslaught on the _Snow Storm at Sea--Vessel in Distress off -Harwich_, of 1842, which the critics had described as “soapsuds and -whitewash.” Ruskin heard him, sitting in his chair by the fire, -muttering to himself at intervals “Soapsuds and whitewash,” again and -again and again. “At last,” he says, “I went to him asking, ‘Why he -minded what they said?’ Then he burst out ‘Soapsuds and whitewash! What -would they have? I wonder what they think the sea’s like. I wish they’d -been in it.’” As a matter of fact, Turner had actually been on board the -boat at the time lashed to the mast, at the risk of his life. - -Nor has the work of his later years always been understood in our days. -Not many years ago a distinguished German oculist read a paper at the -Royal Institution which was afterwards published in which he endeavoured -to prove that what he considered eccentricities of colour in Turner’s -later oil pictures were due--not to his attempts to paint the -unpaintable--but to a senile affection of his eyes, which caused an -unnatural distortion of his vision to yellow in everything. But -Professor Liebreich can hardly have been aware that although the oil -pictures upon which he rested his theory, being mainly attempts to -depict objects or scenery seen in full sunlight, necessarily tended -towards yellow as their prevailing colour, yet at the very same time, -and up to his death, Turner was daily producing the sanest, most -delicate, most refined water-colour drawings in the palest as well as -the deepest tones of every colour on his palette! All the Swiss, -Venetian and other sketches of 1838 to 1845, which are the crowning -glory of the Water-Colour Rooms in Trafalgar Square, were executed -during the period when, according to Professor Liebreich, Turner’s sight -was permanently and hopelessly affected! No doubt he recognised that -water-colour was unsuited as a medium for his new aim at painting pure -light, and confined himself accordingly, for such subjects, to oil -painting. - -The attacks of the critics, however, had had their effect on the public, -and Turner in his later years began to find difficulty in selling even -his drawings. Ruskin, in his “Notes on his Drawings Exhibited at the -Fine Arts Society, 1878,” tells with inimitable charm and pathos how the -old painter, returning in the winter of 1842 from a tour in Switzerland, -brought back with him a series of important sketches, fourteen of which -he placed, as was his custom, in the hands of Griffiths, his agent, with -a view to the latter’s obtaining commissions for _finished_ drawings of -each. Although the price asked for a large finished drawing was only -eighty guineas, and notwithstanding the great beauty of the sketches, -nine commissions only could be obtained. Ruskin, his father, Munro of -Novar, and Bicknell of Herne Hill, all chose one or more, but other -former patrons saw in them what they regarded as a new style, and -declined them. Thirty years after, Ruskin--with pride for Turner’s sake, -he tells us--sold his _Lucerne Town_ for a thousand guineas; it has -since changed hands at two thousand. The _Lake of Constance_, which at -the time no one would buy, was given to Griffiths in lieu of his -commission; it fetched two thousand three hundred guineas at Christie’s -in 1907! After 1845 Turner’s health gradually failed; he continued to -work at his oil paintings up to his death in 1851, but, so far as is -known, he executed comparatively few water-colour sketches or drawings -during his last years. - -Little has hitherto been said as to Turner’s _technique_ in water-colour -although the subject is one of great interest, but, unfortunately, my -point of view is solely that of a student, and _technique_ can only be -adequately dealt with by an artist. Much valuable information, however, -on the question will be found in Redgrave’s “Century of Painters,” Vol. -I., and in Roget’s “History of the Old Water-Colour Society.” From the -first he was a great innovator, choosing his materials and often -inventing his methods without regard to custom, precedent, or anything -but the attainment of the precise effect which he desired at the time. -Signs of scraping, spongeing, the use of blotting-paper, etc., are -constantly to be seen in his drawings. In some, including one in my own -possession, the marks of his thumb are distinctly visible in places. But -the result always justified the means employed! With his oil pictures, -especially those painted after 1830, his experiments, as we know, were -often disastrous in their ultimate effects, but it is extremely rare to -find any of his water-colours which have suffered in the smallest degree -when they have been properly kept. But alas, as has already been pointed -out, only too many, and amongst those some of the finest, have been, and -still are being, irretrievably damaged and changed by continual exposure -to light, both in Public Galleries and on the walls of their owners. - - * * * * * - -In the foregoing pages I have endeavoured to avoid adding to the already -sufficient volume of ‘æsthetic criticism’ of Turner’s art, and I shall -confine myself now to the briefest summary of what seem to me the -distinctive features of his work in water-colour. - -What first strikes one in his drawings, apart from their technical -skill, is their _individuality_; they always stand out amongst the work -of other artists, however great. The chief cause of this is hard to -define, but I should say that it is that they almost invariably possess -a certain quality of imaginativeness, of what is termed ‘poetry.’ No -matter how simple was his subject, he instinctively saw it from its most -beautiful, its most romantic side. If it had little or no beauty or -romance of its own, he would still throw an indefinable charm round it -by some gleam of light, some veiling mist, some far-away distance, some -alluring sense of mystery, of ‘infinity.’ And Turner was a true poet, -although he had little enough of the look or the manners of one. -Throughout his life he was a reader and a voluminous writer of poetry, -but his want of education debarred him from ever expressing himself -coherently in verse. The same cause, together with his lack of a sense -of humour, interfered also with the perfect expression of his art, -especially in his classical and religious pictures, and prevented him -from seeing what was incongruous or at times unpleasing in them. But -only a poet deep-down could have won as he did from Nature her most -intimate secrets; could so have caught and so inimitably have portrayed -her every mood and charm. - -And it is this impress of his deep love for the beauty and the grandeur -of Nature--a love as strong as Wordsworth’s, as intense as -Shelley’s--which is perhaps the greatest cause of the enduring -attractiveness of Turner’s work. Without it, he would never have toiled -as he did all his life, from dawn to dark, year in and year out, -observing and recording in those nineteen thousand studies every kind of -natural scenery, every changing contour of mist and cloud, every -differing form and structure of tree, every movement or reflection in -water, every transient effect of light, storm, wind or weather. - -Then he often had a deep meaning in his pictures, beyond what was to be -seen on the surface, beyond, perhaps, what he himself could have always -explained. Sometimes, no doubt, it was far-fetched, sometimes fantastic, -yet it gives a character to his art which mere technical skill or -perfect design do not by themselves attain. By the modern school of -landscapists this would probably be regarded as a defect or even a -heresy. Pictorial art, they say, should not be ‘literary,’ should not be -intellectual. But to me it seems that the work of the highest -artists--of Leonardo, Michael Angelo, Holbein, Rembrandt, for -example--almost invariably appeals to the intellect as well as to the -senses. Mind, sensibly or insensibly, intentionally or unintentionally, -speaks to mind. As has been well said _apropos_ of Ruskin’s writings on -Turner: “What if Ruskin’s torch lights up some beauty that the painter -himself was never aware of? As a great man’s inventions will carry more -readings than his own, so the meaning of a great painter is not to be -limited to his expressed or palpable intentions. There is a harmony -between the imaginings of both and Nature, which opens out an infinite -range of significance and supports an infinite variety of -interpretations.” - -After Turner had attained manhood--say from 1807 onwards--his _creative_ -power constantly and increasingly made itself felt. It is more evident -in his oil pictures than in his water-colours, because in the latter, -more or less throughout his life, he was employed on illustrative, -topographical, work. But at an early period it is visible in his -drawings, notably in his _Liber Studiorum_ (1807-1819). Leaving aside -actual landscapes such as _Solway Moss_, _Ben Arthur_, etc., his -creative, imaginative power is seen in such subjects as _Æsacus and -Hesperie_, _Peat Bog_, _Procris and Cephalus_, _The Lost Sailor_ and -other plates of the _Liber_. It also appears from time to time in later -drawings. Yet a recent biographer has advanced the astonishing theory -that, whatever were Turner’s merits, up to almost the end of his life -he was not a “creative” artist, merely an _illustrator_, and this idea -has been characteristically caught up and repeated by the latest German -writer on Modern Art. But is there any truth in it? I think not. The -painter of _The Frosty Morning_, and _Crossing the Brook_ (National -Gallery); of _The Guardship at the Nore_ (Lady Wantage); of _Childe -Harold’s Pilgrimage_ and _Ulysses Deriding Polyphemus_ (National -Gallery); of _The Shipwreck_ (National Gallery), and a dozen other great -Sea Pictures, not a “creative” artist? The draughtsman of _Chryses_ -(Mrs. T. Ashton), _The Land’s End_ (“Southern Coast”), _The Longships -Lighthouse_ (“England and Wales”), _The Alps at Daybreak_ and _The -Vision of Columbus_ (“Rogers’s Poems”), _The Plains of Troy_ (“Byron’s -Poems”), _The Mustering of the Warrior Angels_ (“Milton’s Poems”)? If -these, and scores of others which might be added, are not examples of -“creative” art, where are “creative” landscapes to be found? Is Martin’s -_Plains of Heaven_ to be regarded as the type? Or is there no such thing -as “creative” landscape art? But, after all, does the question need -arguing? May one not just as well ask whether Botticelli, Michael -Angelo, Raphael, Rubens, Rembrandt, were “creative” artists? - -Of Turner’s technical skill in water-colour, there is no need to speak; -his command of his material was absolute and has never been equalled. -And his sense of design, of balance, of rhythm--of what is termed -“style”--was always present. He had caught it at the outset of his -career from his close study of Richard Wilson, who had inherited it as a -tradition from Caspar Poussin, Claude, and the painters of the -seventeenth century. Rarely is there anything tentative about his -drawings. They are decisive--the design was almost invariably seen by -him as a whole, from the beginning. Often his work did not please him, -and if it was finished it was discarded; if unfinished, it was carried -no further--as may be seen in several of the drawings recently (1908) -exhibited at the National Gallery, and a good many of the oil pictures -at the Tate Gallery. He was also emphatically a great colourist--one of -the greatest; during the latter half of his life he thought in colour, -and composed in colour, and it was with him an integral part of every -design. That is why his drawings can never be adequately reproduced by -ordinary photography. During middle life, as has been pointed out, his -colour at times became forced and florid, but it was never more pure, -never more beautiful, never more noble, than in his latest sketches. - -At times, no doubt, Turner’s water-colours, especially those executed -between 1820 and 1836, have a tendency to undue complexity of design, -and to overcrowding both of subject and lights. Possibly to some extent -this was due to the prevailing standard of English art and English -taste at that time. Then, perhaps even more than now, high finish was -too often unduly insisted on. But you will never find too high finish or -overcrowding in the drawings which he made _for himself_! His figures, -also, were frequently unsatisfactory. It was not that he could not draw -them--at first they were dainty and careful, as may be seen in the two -early drawings, Plates I. and III. But in his later years he seemed to -regard figures simply as points of light, colour or composition--they -were always effective as such--and he often treated them -carelessly--sometimes even coarsely--to the detriment of some of his -otherwise most beautiful works. - - * * * * * - -Turner is often claimed by the militant school of landscapists of to-day -as one of the first and greatest ‘impressionists.’ In a certain sense no -doubt this is true, but his ‘impressionism,’ it seems to me, was wholly -different in nature from theirs. - -During his life, as we have seen, he made thousands of sketches, some -slight, some elaborate, of places, scenery, and natural -effects--shorthand memoranda,’ so to speak--many of which may certainly -be called ‘impressionist.’ _But all these were founded on, or were -intended to add to, his accurate, minute and exhaustive study of natural -forms, and a draughtsmanship which has probably never been equalled by -any other landscape painter._ - -Then, as is notorious, he frequently altered certain features of -landscapes or buildings to suit the requirements of his pictures--their -symmetry, their accent, their colour-scheme--or in order to convey some -suggestion as to their meaning. In a letter still preserved, he declares -himself opposed to literalism in landscape--“mere map-making” he terms -it. And when for any reason he thus altered the actual features of a -scene, he still almost always contrived to preserve the _impression_ of -it as a whole--usually under its best aspect, at its choicest moment. In -this sense also he was an ‘impressionist.’ - -Again, when towards the close of his life he began to attempt the -representation (mainly in oil colour) of pure sunlight--as in his latest -_Venice_ pictures; or of form in swiftest movement--as in _Rain, Speed -and Steam_; or of the mighty contending forces of Nature--as in his -_Snow Storm off Harwich_, he painted _such subjects_ in the only method -by which they could be intelligibly rendered. In the same way Whistler, -in his Nocturnes, demonstrated for the first time in Western art, the -beauty of prosaic and even ugly objects, seen in dim light. Both -perforce adopted the ‘impressionist’ method, because it was the only -effective, indeed the only possible one. - -But to me it appears that there is all the difference in the world -between _these_ phases of ‘impressionist’ art and the principles of the -modern landscape school, whose works a brilliant set of writers in the -press of to-day are continually calling upon us to admire. The advanced -‘impressionists’ both in France and in England seem to go out of their -way to represent _the ordinary aspects of nature_ with a manifest -determination to avoid any but the vaguest rendering of form, no matter -how clearly defined in such circumstances those forms may seem to -ordinary Philistine vision. They also ordinarily abjure as ‘literary’ -any kind of appeal to the intellectual faculties, and apparently confine -their aim to the production of a more or less startling, but generally -cleverly managed patterning of light, shade, and colour, obtained -usually by means of masses of coarse, solid, and often ragged pigment, -carefully arranged so that the effect intended may be found, like a -fire-plug, at a certain exact, calculated spot. Surely Turner’s -‘impressionism’ was far removed from this? Surely it is hard that he -should be charged with being the precursor of the landscape school to -which I have alluded, whatever may be its merits? - - * * * * * - -Possibly it is too soon as yet to predict what will be Turner’s ultimate -place in art. Like every really great artist (I use the word in its -widest sense) he will be judged, not by his defects or his -mistakes--even if they be many and palpable--but by the _heights_ to -which he attained, and the mark which he has left for others to follow. -For myself, I believe that if his water-colours are allowed to remain -unfaded for future generations, they, along with his best oil pictures, -will be counted worthy to entitle him to a place amongst the greatest -painters of all centuries and all schools. - - W. G. RAWLINSON. - - [In common with the Editor of _The Studio_, I desire to acknowledge - my deep obligations to the various owners of valuable drawings by - Turner, who have kindly allowed them to be reproduced here. There - were, however, others which I should like to have seen represented, - but as these were not available, the Editor desired to replace them - with examples from my own collection. This must explain what will - otherwise seem the undue proportion of the latter.--W. G. R.] - - - - -THE TURNER DRAWINGS IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. BY A. J. FINBERG. - - -The usual way of painting a landscape nowadays is for the artist to take -his easel and canvas out into the fields, and to work as far as possible -with the scene he is representing before his eyes. The scene, with the -artist’s chosen effect, is of course constantly changing, so the artist -can work only for a short time each day. The effect itself will probably -last for a period varying from a couple of minutes to about half an -hour, according to circumstances; but the painter may be usefully -employed in getting his work into condition for about an hour before the -effect is due, and he may work on for perhaps another hour while the -effect is still fresh in his memory. As one sitting of this kind will -not enable the artist to carry his work far, it is necessary that he -should return day after day to the scene; and if he is determined to -paint it entirely on the spot, he must be prepared to devote some months -at least to the work. - -The habit of painting and finishing pictures entirely out of doors was, -I believe, introduced by the Pre-Raphaelites during the fifties, but -before this, Constable and other artists had worked largely from rather -elaborate colour studies made out of doors. Turner did not work at all -in this way. All his pictures were painted in the studio, and generally -from very slight pencil sketches. So far as I know he never made even a -slight colour study from nature for any of his pictures. - -As the methods of work employed by the great artists are of very great -interest, I think it will be worth while to take one of his wellknown -works and to trace its evolution somewhat in detail. The beautiful -drawing of _Norham Castle_, reproduced here (Plate XIV.), will do very -well for this purpose. - -This drawing was made to be engraved in a series known as the “Rivers of -England.” Charles Turner’s really fine mezzotint of it was published in -1824, so the drawing must have been made at least a year or two before -this date. The pencil sketch on which it was based was made some quarter -of a century earlier--to be quite accurate, in the summer or autumn of -1797. - -At that time Turner was a young man of twenty-two, but he had already -made his mark as one of the best topographical and antiquarian -draughtsmen of the day. He had been a regular exhibitor at the Royal -Academy for eight years, and publishers and amateurs were beginning to -compete for his productions. It was his habit every summer to map out -for himself a lengthy sketching tour, his aim being to accumulate in his -portfolio a pencil drawing made by himself of every building or natural -feature that he might be called upon to illustrate. These subjects were -dictated by the taste of the time, which generally ran towards the -ruined abbeys and castles of the middle ages. As Turner’s subject-matter -was prescribed for him in this way, he did not, like the modern artist, -have to waste any time looking for promising subjects. He had merely to -study the numerous guide-books that were even then in existence, to make -out a list of the more important castles, abbeys, and Gothic buildings, -and to hurry from one to the other as fast as the coaches or his own -sturdy legs could carry him. The methodical and stolidly business-like -manner in which he set about and carried through this part of his work -is calculated to shock the gushing and casual temperament of the artist -of to-day. - -Turner’s programme in 1797 was an extensive one, and, what is much more -remarkable, he carried it out. He seems to have taken the coach into -Derbyshire, as he had already appropriated everything of interest in the -Midland counties. He carried two sketch books with him, each bound -handsomely in calf, the smaller with four heavy brass clasps, the larger -with seven. The pages in the smaller book measure about 10½ by 8¼ -inches, those of the larger about 14½ by 10½. Both these books are now -in the National Gallery collection, and will shortly, I hope, be made -accessible to students and the general public. - -The campaign opens with two drawings of, I think, _Wingfield Manor_, -then comes a church with a tall spire on a hill which I cannot identify; -then we have one drawing of _Rotherham Bridge_ with the chapel on it, -then one of _Conisborough Castle_, single views of the exterior and -interior of _Doncaster Church_, three different views of the ruins of -_Pontefract Church_, and then two neat drawings of the _Chantry on the -Bridge at Wakefield_. It is not till he gets to Kirkstall Abbey that the -artist seems to pause in his breathless rush to the North. There are no -less than nine drawings of this subject, all made from different points -of view; one of these leaves containing the sketch of the Crypt--from -which Sir John Soane’s impressive water-colour was made--contains just a -fragment of colour, and has been for many years among the drawings -exhibited on the ground floor of the National Gallery. In this way we -can follow Turner to Knaresborough, Ripon, Fountains and Easby Abbeys, -Richmond, Barnard Castle, Egglestone Abbey and Durham, and then along -the coast to Warkworth, Alnwick, Dunstanborough, Bamborough and Holy -Island. Judging from the drawings, I think it probable that Turner spent -the best part of a day at Holy Island, but he got to Berwick in time to -draw a general view of the town and bridge, and to make a slight sketch -with his limited gamut of colours--black, blue, and yellow only--of the -evening effect. The next morning he was up in time to see the sun rise -from behind the towers of Norham Castle, and to trace a slight and -hurried pencil outline of the main features of the scene. There is only -this one sketch of the subject, and it does not contain the slightest -suggestion of light and shade or of effect. But there were Kelso and -Melrose and Dryburgh and Jedburgh Abbeys close by waiting to be drawn, -and Turner evidently felt he must hurry on. Having drawn these ruins in -his neat and precise way he turned south and struck into Cumberland. In -the larger sketch book a drawing inscribed _Keswick_ follows immediately -after one of the views of _Melrose Abbey_. Then comes _Cockermouth -Castle_, _the Borrowdale_, _Buttermere_, _St. John’s Vale_, _Grasmere_, -_Rydal_, _Langdale_, and _Ulleswater with Helvellyn in the distance_. -Then follow in rapid succession _Ambleside Mill_, _Windermere_, -_Coniston_, _Furness Abbey_, _Lancaster_, and after a single drawing of -_Bolton Abbey_ we find ourselves in York, where the Cathedral and the -ruins of St. Mary’s Abbey and Bootham Bar must have detained the artist -for perhaps two or three days. The tour, however, is not yet at an end, -for the Hon. Mr. Lascelles (who became Earl of Harewood in 1820) wants -some drawings of Harewood House and of the ruins of Harewood Castle, and -Mr. Hewlett wants some subjects to engrave in his forthcoming “Views in -the County of Lincoln.” It is, therefore, through Howden, Louth, Boston, -Sleaford, and Peterborough that Turner makes his way back to London. He -must have been back by September, for among the drawings exhibited at -the Royal Academy in the following May was one described as “_A Study in -September of the Fern House, Mr. Lock’s Park, Mickleham, Surrey_.” He -can, therefore, hardly have been away much more than three months, if so -long, but his strenuous vacation had yielded an abundant crop of useful -material. - -It must have been October before Turner was fairly back in his studio in -Hand Court, Maiden Lane, and had settled down to work up this material. -By the following April he had four important oil paintings and six -water-colours ready for the Exhibition. One of these oil paintings (the -_Dunstanborough Castle_) now hangs in the Melbourne National Gallery, to -which it was presented by the late Duke of Westminster; two others -(_Winesdale, Yorkshire--an Autumnal Morning_ and _Morning amongst the -Coniston Fells_) hang in the little Octagon room in Trafalgar Square, -and the fourth is on loan to the Albert Memorial Museum, Exeter. This is -the _Buttermere Lake, with part of Cromack Water_, a really fine -painting, though it has darkened considerably. As the first important -oil painting in which Turner’s genius was clearly manifested, I should -rejoice to see it hanging in Trafalgar Square. The pencil drawing on -which it was based contains some work in water-colour, possibly made -direct from nature, but the details and general effect have been -entirely recast in the finished work. Among the water-colours were the -gloomy and superb _Kirkstall Abbey_, now in the Soane Museum, to which I -have already referred, and the drawing of _Norham Castle_, with which we -are now more particularly concerned. - -The drawing exhibited in 1798 is not the one here reproduced. The -exhibited drawing is probably the one now in the possession of Mr. -Laundy Walters. A photographic reproduction of it was published in Sir -Walter Armstrong’s “Turner” (p. 34), and it is worth pausing a moment to -compare this with the original pencil sketch and to consider in exactly -what relation these two drawings stand to each other. - -The usual way of describing the process by which a slight sketch from -nature is converted into a finished drawing is to say that the artist -copied his sketch as far as it went and then relied upon his memory for -the further elaboration that was required. An artist’s memory is assumed -to consist of images of the scenes he has witnessed, which he has some -mysterious power of storing somewhere in his mind, something like, I -suppose, the undeveloped exposures in a Kodak. According to this theory -we should have to assume that the particular sight of the sun rising -behind Norham Towers which had greeted Turner on the morning he hurried -from Berwick to Kelso had been treasured up in the inner recesses of his -consciousness, and then some months afterwards, when the appropriate -moment came, he had only to select this particular image from among the -millions of other images in the same mysterious storehouse, to develop -it and copy it on to his canvas. I need hardly add that this desperate -theory is quite fanciful and absurd, and in flat contradiction to the -teachings of modern psychology. - -A description that would not be open to such objections would run -something like this: When we are dealing with the processes of artistic -creation we have to assume an intelligent human agent, and analogies -drawn from purely mechanical sources can only mislead us. We must not -assume that an artist’s senses and intellect work like the mechanism of -a camera, or in any other abnormal way, unless we have some strong -evidence to support us. And we must also remember that a visual image is -a useful abstraction in psychology, but in the conscious life of an -intelligent human being it is merely an element within the ordinary life -of thought and feeling. Let us therefore assume that Turner not only -made no effort to retain the exact visual impression of the scene in -question, but that he did not even attempt to separate this impression -from the general whole of thought and feeling in which it was -experienced. The particular matter of sense-perception would then -become incorporated in the general idea or the object--in the ordinary -way in which sense qualities are preserved in ideas. When Turner -therefore sat down to make his picture, what he would have prominently -and clearly before his mind would be a general idea of Norham Castle as -a ruined border fortress, a scene of many a bloody fray and of much -bygone splendour and suffering. In short, his idea would be what the -art-criticism of the Henley type used to describe contemptuously as -“literary”; that is, it was steeped in the colours of the historical -imagination, and was practically the same as that which a man like Sir -Walter Scott or any cultivated person of the present time would -associate with the same object. Instead, therefore, of having a single -image before his mind which he had merely to copy, Turner started with a -complex idea, which might, indeed, have been expressed more or less -adequately in the terms of some other art, but which he chose on this -occasion to express in pictorial terms. - -In this way we can understand why Turner did, as a matter of fact, -frequently and constantly attempt to express his ideas in the form of -verbal poetry, and why, in the drawing we are now considering, he felt -himself justified not only in filling out his sketch with details that -were neither there nor in the real scene, but also in taking -considerable liberties with the facts contained in the sketch, altering -them and falsifying them in ways that could not be defended if his aim -had been to reproduce the actual scene itself. The colouring too of Mr. -Walter’s drawing owes much more to Turner’s study of Wilson’s pictures -than to his visual memory of natural scenes; that is to say, the colour -is used as an instrument of expression,--as a means to bring the -imagination and feelings of the spectator into harmony with the artist’s -ideas, as well as to indicate in the clearest possible manner that it -was not the artist’s intention to represent the actual scene in its -prosaic details. - -This picture, with the others exhibited in 1798, settled the question -for Turner’s brother artists and for himself that he was a genuinely -imaginative artist and not a merely clever topographical draughtsman. -The following year he was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy, at -the early age of twenty-four, and throughout his long life he always -regarded himself as entitled to take any liberties with actual -topographical facts that the expression of his ideas demanded. - -The success of the first _Norham Castle_ drawing induced Turner to -repeat the subject several times. The late Mrs. Thwaites had another -water-colour of it in her collection, there are at least three -unfinished versions in the National Gallery, and I have seen a version -of it in oil. The subject was engraved in the “Liber” from what -purported to be the picture in the possession of the Hon. Mr. Lascelles, -but really from a fresh design made by the artist. Then Turner painted -the subject again for Mr. Fawkes of Farnley, and again, about 1822 or -1823, he made the drawing for the “Rivers of England” series, here -reproduced. What is so interesting in all this is that the details in -each of these versions are different, yet they all seem to have been -based on the same pencil sketch. The relative size of the castle varies -in each drawing, as well as the details of its embrasures and crumbling -masonry; the character of the river banks also varies. In the earlier -versions the right bank is steep and rocky, as suiting the solemn and -gloomy effect of the subject; in the latest version, where the humble -pastoral life of the present is thrown more into prominence, this bank -becomes flat and peopled with fishermen, their boats and cows. - -In one of the many anecdotes told of Turner he is represented as saying -to an artist who had complained of the disappointment he had experienced -on revisiting a certain place, “Don’t you know you must paint your -impressions”--or words to that effect. I don’t know how true the story -is--and I may confess that I have almost got into the habit of -disbelieving _all_ the stories told about Turner--but whether true or -not this particular anecdote is certainly well invented. Turner knew -quite well how large a part his subjective feelings and ideas played in -all his work, and it made him shy of revisiting places that had once -impressed him. But when he spoke of his “impressions” we must be careful -not to suppose that he could have used the expression in the way it is -often used now. He did not abstract his particular visual impressions -from the emotional and ideational context in which they were -experienced. In so far as Impressionism means this kind of abstraction, -Turner was never an impressionist. And as his first ideas of places were -steeped in the colouring of his own subjective life, so his ideas were -ever taking on different hues as his temper and character changed. In -this way he could use the same sketch again and again and always get -different effects from it; the sensuous datum was merely a point of -departure for each fresh improvisation, a form into which he could pour -his meditations, but a flexible, plastic form which readily took the -shape of its spiritual content. - -These considerations may help us to understand what is apt at first to -strike the student of Turner’s drawings and sketches as strange and -incomprehensible. Turner was always sketching from nature, and often -making drawings that contain an amazing wealth of detail and definition, -yet the usefulness of his sketches seemed to vary in inverse ratio to -their definition and to the time spent upon them. The beautiful drawings -never seemed to lead to anything, all the pictures being painted by -preference from the slightest and vaguest sketches. Thus the sketch book -which contains the sketch of _Norham Castle_ is filled with over ninety -drawings, most of them full of detail and delightfully precise and -graceful in handling. Turner made good use of most of this material, but -the most prolific “breeding” subject--to use one of Richard Wilson’s -expressions--was unquestionably the hurried scribble of Norham, which -was so slight as not to indicate even the general shape of the ruined -tower with precision, and which left the number of windows or embrasures -entirely undetermined. But when we see how Turner used his sketches we -can easily understand that this absence of definition must often have -been a positive advantage to him when he came to paint his pictures. -There was less “to put him out,” fewer obstacles in the way of his -subjective utterance, the form was more fluid and tractable to his -immediate purpose. The more detailed studies were of course not wasted, -for the knowledge they gave him enabled him to fill out the slightest -hints of his “breeding” subjects with an inexhaustible wealth of -plausible detail. - -The National Gallery collection contains just on three hundred of -Turner’s sketch books, and practically the whole of his work done -immediately in the presence of nature. This data enables us to speak -with absolute authority upon the difficult question as to the relation -between Turner’s art and nature. They prove that he very seldom, if -ever, painted a picture simply “out of his head.” In everything he -did--even, I believe, in the case of what have been called his classical -nonsense pictures--there was a nucleus of immediately perceived fact. -This sensuous basis is seldom, if ever, absent from his work, but it is -invariably overlaid and distorted by the purely subjective forces of the -artist’s personality, which appropriate the data of sense, and mould -them into any shape they choose. It is impossible, especially since -“Modern Painters” was written, to overlook the important part played by -natural fact in all of Turner’s creations, but it is just as important -not to overlook the equally obvious and certain truth that Turner never -uses nature simply for its own sake, but only as a means of expression. -The methods employed in the particular case we have just studied are, -with few exceptions, the methods which he adopted during the whole of -his career. - -Yet Turner did undoubtedly upon occasion paint in oil directly from -nature. An instance of this kind is described by Sir Charles Eastlake in -“Thornbury” (p. 153, 3rd edition). Eastlake met Turner during his second -visit to Devonshire, probably in the summer of 1813, and accompanied him -to a cottage near Calstock, the residence of Eastlake’s aunt, where they -stayed for a few days. Another artist was with them, a Mr. Ambrose -Johns, of Plymouth. It was during their rambles in the neighbourhood of -Calstock that Turner gathered the material for his picture of “_Crossing -the Brook_.” Eastlake says that “Turner made his sketches in pencil and -by stealth,” that is to say, he did not like to have people looking over -his shoulder while he was at work. The sketch book Turner used on this -occasion is with the others in the National Gallery. But after the three -artists had returned to Plymouth, “in the neighbourhood of which he -(Turner) remained some weeks, Mr. Johns fitted up a small portable -painting-box, containing some prepared paper for oil sketches, as well -as the other necessary materials. When Turner halted at a scene and -seemed inclined to sketch it, Johns produced the inviting box, and the -great artist, finding everything ready to his hand, immediately began to -work. As he sometimes wanted assistance in the use of the box, the -presence of Johns was indispensable, and after a few days he made his -oil sketches freely in our presence. Johns accompanied him always; I was -only with them occasionally. Turner seemed pleased when the rapidity -with which those sketches were done was talked of; for, departing from -his habitual reserve in the instance of his pencil sketches, he made no -difficulty of showing them. On one occasion, when, on his return after a -sketching ramble to a country residence belonging to my father, near -Plympton, the day’s work was shown, he himself remarked that one of the -sketches (and perhaps the best) was done in less than half an hour.” “On -my enquiring afterwards,” Sir Charles Eastlake adds, “what had become of -those sketches, Turner replied that they were worthless, in consequence, -as he supposed, of some defect in the preparation of the paper; all the -grey tints, he observed, had nearly disappeared. Although I did not -implicitly rely on that statement, I do not remember to have seen any of -them afterwards.” - -There are about a dozen small oil sketches of Devonshire subjects in the -National Gallery, which are doubtless part of those made under the -circumstances described by Sir Charles Eastlake. They are made on a -brownish millboard, prepared with a thin coating of paint and size. On -the back of one of them there happens to be some lettering showing that -Johns had laid violent hands on the covers of some parts of William -Young Ottley’s “British Gallery of Pictures,” then being issued -serially. Several of these paintings have long been hung among the -exhibited drawings; _e.g._, Nos. 746, 750, 754, 758, and one, No. 849, -which has somehow got the obviously incorrect title of _Bridge over -River Lugwy, Capel Curig_. These paintings have undoubtedly sunk very -much into the absorbent millboard, thus proving that Turner’s remark to -Eastlake about the disappearance of the grey tints--which he “did not -implicitly rely on”--was justified. But otherwise the work is in good -condition, and I have very little doubt that when Mr. Buttery comes to -take them in hand, he will be able to bring them back to something like -their original freshness. The chief point of interest with regard to -them, from our present point of view, is the curious fact that Turner -does not seem to have made the slightest use of them in any of the -Devonshire pictures he painted on his return. He evidently found his -tiny little pencil sketches much more suggestive and adaptable to his -purposes. Even the large oil picture of _Crossing the Brook_ is based -entirely on his slight and rapidly made little pencil notes. Another -point of interest is that even when painting in oil face to face with -nature he did not merely copy what he had in front of him. As our -illustration shows, these sketches are as carefully composed as his -pictures. They are indeed only technically sketches from nature; in -reality they are designs for pictures or pictures in miniature, though -they happen to have been painted out of doors. Even in working direct -from nature Turner remained firmly entrenched in his artistic position -as the master of nature. He still retained his power of selection, -taking what suited his purpose, ignoring the rest, and supplementing -from the stores of his own knowledge what for his purpose were the -defects of the momentary image before his eyes. - -The fact that Turner always worked in this way makes it exceedingly -difficult to separate his sketches from nature from the studies or -designs for his pictures. Throughout his sketch books and amongst his -loose drawings there are a large number of sketches in colour, and one’s -first impulse is to assume that these were made immediately from nature. -But careful observation shows that Turner was in the constant habit of -working over his pencil sketches in colour when away from the scenes he -had depicted. In this way the beautiful little sketch of “_Edinburgh -from St. Margaret’s Loch_,” here reproduced (Plate VI.), is much more -probably the draft of a picture the artist had in his mind’s eye than a -study from nature. But the point whether such a drawing was made “on the -spot” or not is relatively unimportant; what is more important is to -realise how very small a part the merely imitative or representative -study of the colour and tone (as opposed to form) of nature played in -Turner’s work. His colour is never merely descriptive. The whole bent of -his mind is so essentially pictorial that, whether he works face to face -with nature or from what is loosely called “memory,” his slightest -sketch as well as his most elaborate work is always an attempt to -express a subjective conception, and never a merely literal transcript -of what is given in sense-perception. - -Perhaps the most important group of drawings in the national collection -are those which Turner made during the last ten years of his working -life, _i.e._, between 1835 and 1845. These drawings were not made for -sale or for exhibition, hence Mr. Ruskin’s description of them as -“delight drawings,” because they were done entirely for the artist’s own -pleasure and delight. Several of them are reproduced in this volume, -among them the beautiful sketch of “_Lucerne_” (Plate XXI.) realized for -Mr. Ruskin in 1842, the almost equally fine “_Bellinzona, from the road -to Locarno_” (Plate XXIV.), and “_Zurich_” (Plate XXVII.). - -These inimitable and delightful sketches have been very widely admired, -as they deserve to be, but they have also been praised, somewhat -perversely as it seems to me, for their truth and accuracy of -representation. As Mr. Ruskin has pointed out, these sketches “are not, -strictly speaking, sketches from nature; but plans or designs of -pictures which Turner, if he had had time, would have made of each -place. They indicate, therefore, a perfectly formed conception of the -finished picture; and they are of exactly the same value as memoranda -would be, if made by Turner’s own hand, of pictures of his not in our -possession. They are just to be regarded as quick descriptions or -reminiscences of noble pictures.” Mr. Ruskin is also unquestionably -correct when he adds “that nothing but the pencilling in them was done -on the spot, and not always that. Turner used to walk about a town with -a roll of thin paper in his pocket, and make a few scratches upon a -sheet or two of it, which were so much shorthand indication of all he -wished to remember. When he got to his inn in the evening, he completed -the pencilling rapidly, and added as much colour as was needed to record -his plan of the picture” (“Ruskin on Pictures,” pp. 86-7). - -It is not my intention now to dwell upon the beauty of these -incomparable drawings, on their passionate intensity and emotional -sincerity, their nervous eloquence and elusive suggestiveness. The point -I wish to insist on at present is that they must not be regarded as -attempts to reproduce or imitate the merely superficial qualities of -physical nature, as attempts to give an accurate representation of -effects of air or light, or of the shapes and forms of mountain, water -or cloud. The artist is not immersed in the definite character of -physical objects. He seems to feel that as a spiritual and -self-conscious being he is something higher than the merely natural, and -it is as modes of expression of human freedom and self-consciousness -that these lyrical fragments must be regarded. - -The colour and tone of Turner’s work must therefore be taken as strictly -ideal, that is, as a medium of subjective expression, as a mode of -spiritual manifestation, and not as an attempt to represent the merely -abstract qualities of sense-perception. And what is true of Turner’s -colour and tone is also true of his form. I doubt if he ever made a -tolerably careful and elaborate drawing of a natural scene from the -beginning to the end of his long career--nearly all his elaborate -drawings being of architectural subjects. But instead of the prosaic and -plodding drawings that other artists make (see, for example, the -elaborate pencil studies of trees by Constable in the Victoria and -Albert Museum), we find hundreds and hundreds of nervous, eager pencil -sketches. When we come to study these ravishing sketches with care we -make the astonishing discovery that the bugbear of the drawing school, -the prosaic accumulation of particular physical facts known in art -academies as “nature,” is simply a hideous abstraction of the -theoretical mind. Nature, in this sense of the word, never existed for -Turner. The world he saw around him was replete with intelligence, was -permeated with spirit; where other artists see only the bare, unrelated -physical fact and sensuous surface, his mind is already busy with the -inner and invisible significance, and his cunning hand is instantly -shaping forth a pictorial embodiment of his own insight and passionate -convictions. - -On the whole, then, this was Turner’s consistent attitude towards -nature, though of course, in his earlier years, his sketches were -comparatively less swift and eloquent than they afterwards became. And -there was indeed a short period during which the merely physical fact -was forced into undue prominence. This period culminated in the first -visit to Italy in 1819-1820. Here the novelty of the scenery and -buildings stimulated the thirst for detailed observation which had been -gradually growing on Turner during the previous six or seven years. But -in England the very quickness and strength of his intuitions had always -prevented the desire for precise observation from gaining the upper -hand. In Italy his powers of intuition were useless. He was disoriented. -Everything disconcerted and thwarted him. His rapid glance no longer -penetrated to the inner essence of the scenes around him. He did not -understand the people and their ways, and their relation to their -surroundings. For a time he seemed to become less certain than usual of -his artistic mission. But he set to work with his usual pluck and energy -to assimilate his strange surroundings by tireless observation of the -outside. The result was a vast accumulation of disorganized or of only -partially organized impressions. - -It is conceded on all hands that Turner’s artistic work went all to -pieces as a result of his Italian experiences. The _Bay of Baiæ_ -contains faults altogether new in his completed works. Even the feeblest -of his earlier works had been animated by some central idea or emotion, -to which all the parts were subordinated, and which infused into them -whatever of life or significance they possessed. In the _Bay of Baiæ_ -the artist has an unusual quantity of material on his hands, but he can -neither find nor invent a pictorial idea to give coherence to his -disconnected observations. The picture is made up of bits of visual -experiences elaborately dovetailed into one another, but which -absolutely refuse to combine into any kind of conceptual unity. - -Yet if we confine our attention to the merely formal and abstract side -of art, there is assuredly much to move us even to enthusiastic -admiration among the immense quantity of sketches accumulated during -this Italian visit. The very fact that Turner’s inspiration was checked -prevented his sketches from possessing their wonted rudimentary or -forward-pointing character. Instead of being hasty drafts of the -pictures that thronged instantly into his mind upon contact with the -scenes of his native land, they became more like the drawings which less -completely equipped creative artists are in the habit of making; they -became “studies” in the modern use of the term. The conditions of their -production gave full play to Turner’s marvellous powers of -draughtsmanship and formal design. Before drawings like _Rome from Monte -Mario_ who can help waxing enthusiastic over the exquisitely deft and -graceful play of hand, the subtle observation and the almost superhuman -mastery of the design? No wonder Mr. Ruskin has declared that “no -drawings in the world are to be named with these ... as lessons in -landscape drawing” (“Ruskin on Pictures,” p. 157). But before assenting -wholly to this dictum we must remember that, in spite of all their -attractiveness, Turner found these drawings worse than useless for his -general artistic purposes, and that only bad and foolish pictures came -from them; and the more carefully we study the matter the more clearly -do we see that nothing but bad and foolish pictures could come from work -in which the spirit of curiosity and of cold and accurate observation is -predominant. - -We have fixed our attention thus far upon the sketches and drawings made -from nature in the National Gallery collection, to the exclusion of the -finished water-colours. This may seem all the more inexcusable, as I -have preferred to treat these sketches rather with regard to their -bearing upon the artist’s finished work--as stages in the development of -the complete work of art--than as independent productions which can be -accepted entirely for their own sake. But in a short paper like the -present it is impossible to do justice to all the sides of such an -important collection as the Drawings of the Turner Bequest. Numerically, -the finished drawings form only a small fraction of the whole -collection--about two hundred out of a total of over 20,000 drawings. -Among them are about two-thirds of the “Rivers of France” drawings, and -most of the “Ports” and “Rivers of England,” and Rogers’s “Vignettes.” -These drawings were engraved during Turner’s lifetime and under his -active superintendence; they are, therefore, amongst the best known of -his works. The whole of the finished drawings have, moreover, been -constantly on exhibition for more than fifty years. There remains, -therefore, little either of praise or blame to be said of them that has -not already been said many times. While, on the other hand, the studies -and sketches are only now on the point of being made accessible to the -public. - -The practically complete series of Turner’s sketches and studies from -nature seems to call for comprehensive treatment. Their careful study -throws a wholly new and unexpected light upon the fundamental and -essential qualities of Turner’s attitude towards nature, and therefore -upon the essential character and limitations of his art. Or where the -light is not altogether unexpected--as it would not be perhaps in the -case of a diligent and methodical student of Turner’s completed -works--the sketches amplify and illustrate in an abundant and forcible -way what before could only have been surmised. I propose, therefore, to -devote the remainder of my limited space to an attempt to indicate as -briefly as possible the main features of Turner’s conception of nature, -as it is revealed in his sketches, and to point out its importance both -for the proper understanding of his finished work and for its bearing -upon some adverse criticisms that have been brought against his work. - -In my opening remarks I ventured to contrast Turner’s attitude towards -nature with the attitude of the majority of contemporary artists. My -intention in thus opposing these two different methods of work was not -to suggest that one of them was either right or wrong in itself, or that -one way was necessarily better or worse than the other. My intention was -exactly the opposite. There is not one type of art production to which -all artists must conform, and two totally different methods of procedure -may each be positively right and equally valid. I will even go farther -than this and confess that I regard the present-day method of working -from nature as the only right and proper way of attaining the results -that are aimed at. But it is the result, the purpose of the artist, that -justifies the means, and this applies with just as much force to -Turner’s way of working as to the modern way. To condemn Turner’s -procedure, therefore, simply because it differs from that now in vogue, -would be as unwise and unfair as to condemn the modern way because it -differed from his. Different conceptions of the aim and scope of art -involve different attitudes towards nature, and necessitate different -methods of study. - -Let us begin with the current conception--the conception of the -landscape artist of to-day and of the public for which he works. The -aim of this art is what is called “naturalness,” that is, the picture -should be made to look as much like nature as possible. The standard of -excellence here is just the ordinary common appearance of physical -reality. A picture that looks like nature is good, and one that looks -“unnatural” is therefore bad. This kind of art is capable of giving a -great deal of innocent pleasure to people who like to be reminded of -scenes they love or are interested in. But it has its limits. It cannot -go beyond the bare physical world. And it is bound to treat even this -limited area of experience from a strictly limited point of view. It is -bound to take the physical world as something which exists in entire -independence of the spectator, as something which is indeed given in -sense-perception, but which the spectator emphatically finds and does -not make. Now so far as we take nature in this sense we have to do with -an external power which is utterly indifferent to our merely human aims -and purposes, and the artist can only look upon himself as a passive -recipient, a _tabula rasa_, on which external nature is reflected. This -is the standpoint of the prosaic intelligence, the level upon which much -of the ordinary reflection and discussion of the day moves. - -But man is not really a passive mirror in which a foreign nature is -reflected, nor is he satisfied merely to submit himself to natural -influences and vicissitudes. Man is never really satisfied to take the -world as he finds it, but sets to work to transform it into what he -feels it ought to be. The social and political world, with its realms of -morality, art and religion, came into existence as a protest against the -merely natural. In this world, created and sustained by human -intelligence and will, the physical world is not abolished or destroyed, -but it is transformed into a more or less willing accomplice of a -strange and higher power. It is in this new form which nature assumes -under the sway of intelligence and will that we find it in Turner’s -works.[B] In his presence the external world loses its stubborn -indifference to human aims and becomes saturated with purely human -aspiration and emotion. Its colours and shapes cease to belong to the -merely physical world. They become instead the garment in which the -inward spiritual nature of the artist robes itself. Nature in this new -aspect is no longer a merely hostile and mechanical system of laws; a -soul has been breathed into it which we recognize as identical with our -own. - -Now it is evident that these two kinds of art, the passive and the -active, with their totally dissimilar aims, cannot and ought not to -represent nature in the same way. The art which uses nature as a medium -for the expression of ideas and feelings cannot attain its object by -representing physical objects in the simple and direct way appropriate -to the art which aims merely at naturalness. The artist’s intention must -make itself manifest even in the manner in which he represents physical -objects,--indeed, he has no other way of expressing his ideas. The -active or creative artist will therefore make it clear that he has -broken entirely with the disconnected, accidental and prosaic look of -everyday existence which it is the one aim of the passive artist to -retain. - -From this point of view the charges that are often brought against -Turner, that his colour is forced and unnatural, will leave us cold and -indifferent. To make such an objection is merely a proof of mental -confusion. The creative artist _must_ break with the prosaic vision of -nature, if only to make it evident that his objects are not there for -their own sake and for their immediate effect, but to call forth a -response and echo in the mind of the observer. Turner’s colour--“dyed in -the ardours of the atmosphere”--is one of his most potent instruments of -expression, and must be judged as we judge, let us say, the verbal magic -of Shelley’s verse, as a work of free beauty, fashioned in response to -the deepest and truest cravings of man’s nature. - -That Turner’s art moves mainly among the highest interests of man’s -spiritual nature accounts to some extent for the pre-eminent position he -now occupies among modern artists. It is always as an artist conscious -of man’s high destiny that he claims to be judged, and though he often -stumbled and his hand faltered, he never once sank to the level of the -passive and prosaic imitator of nature’s finitude. This is not the place -to inquire minutely into Turner’s failings and shortcomings, nor to -study their connection with the innumerable masterpieces in which he -dared and sometimes attained the very highest of which art is capable. -An adequate discussion of the subtle inter-connection of Turner’s -triumphs and failings would involve the raising of questions of which -English criticism seems to prefer to remain in happy ignorance. I cannot -therefore attempt to justify my conviction that he is not only the -greatest artist our nation has yet produced, but also one of the -greatest of modern artists, a man we must rank with Rembrandt and Jean -François Millet. But this at least will be generally conceded, that he -fully deserves that consideration and sympathy, which the ready instinct -of mankind reserves for those who devote themselves without stint and -without measure to the highest and most difficult tasks. - - A. J. FINBERG. - -[Illustration: Plate I - -THE ARCHBISHOP’S PALACE, LAMBETH - -FIRST EXHIBITED DRAWING. R.A. 1790. SIZE 15″ × 10½″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate II - -THE MOUTH OF THE AVON. - -CIRCA 1792. SIZE 11¼″ × 8¾″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate III - -PETERBOROUGH CATHEDRAL FROM THE NORTH - -CIRCA 1794. SIZE 7″ × 4¼″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate IV - -THE PENT, DOVER - -CIRCA 1794. SIZE 10¼″ × 8″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate V - -DISTANT VIEW OF LICHFIELD CATHEDRAL - -CIRCA 1798. SIZE 30½″ × 19¾″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate VI - -EDINBURGH: FROM ST. MARGARET’S LOCH - -CIRCA 1801. SIZE 7¾″ × 5″ - -IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON] - -[Illustration: Plate VII - -STONEHENGE: SUNSET - -CIRCA 1804. SIZE 8¾″ × 6¾″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate VIII - -SCARBOROUGH - -CIRCA 1812. SIZE 16″ × 11″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF C. MORLAND AGNEW, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate IX - -LULWORTH COVE - -CIRCA 1813. SIZE 8½″ × 5¾″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate X - -GOARHAUSEN AND KATZ CASTLE - -CIRCA 1817. SIZE 12″ × 7¾″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate XI - -THE LAKE OF NEMI - -CIRCA 1818. Size 8½″ × 5½″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF C. MORLAND AGNEW, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate XII - -TURIN: FROM THE CHURCH OF THE SUPERGA - -CIRCA 1818. SIZE 8½″ × 5½″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF C. MORLAND AGNEW, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate XIII - -THE CROOK OF THE LUNE - -CIRCA 1818. SIZE 16¾″ × 11¼″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF REV. WILLIAM MACGREGOR] - -[Illustration: Plate XIV - -NORHAM CASTLE - -CIRCA 1822. SIZE 8½″ × 6½″ - -IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 175] - -[Illustration: Plate XV - -LAUNCESTON - -CIRCA 1827. SIZE 15½″ × 11″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF J. F. SCHWANN, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate XVI - -BARNARD CASTLE - -CIRCA 1827. Size 8⅞″ × 6½″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate XVII - -ON THE LAKE AT PETWORTH--EVENING - -CIRCA 1830. SIZE 7½″ × 5¼″ - -IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 425d] - -[Illustration: Plate XVIII - -COWES - -CIRCA 1830. SIZE 16½″ × 11¼″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. YATES, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate XIX - -VENICE: THE SALUTE FROM S. GIORGIO MAGGIORE - -CIRCA 1839. SIZE 12″ × 9½″ - -IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 54] - -[Illustration: Plate XX - -VENICE: CASA GRIMANI AND THE RIALTO - -CIRCA 1839. SIZE 11″ × 7½″ - -IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 354] - -[Illustration: Plate XXI - -LUCERNE - -CIRCA 1840-41. SIZE 12⅛″ × 9-3/16″ - -IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 288] - -[Illustration: Plate XXII - -A SWISS LAKE - -CIRCA 1840-41. SIZE 11⅜″ × 9″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF SIR HICKMAN BACON, BART.] - -[Illustration: Plate XXIII - -BELLINZONA: FROM THE SOUTH - -CIRCA 1840-41. Size 12⅞″ × 8⅞″ - -IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 764] - -[Illustration: Plate XXIV - -BELLINZONA: FROM THE ROAD TO LOCARNO - -CIRCA 1840-41. SIZE 11½″ × 9″ - -IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 84] - -[Illustration: Plate XXV - -LAUSANNE: FROM LE SIGNAL - -CIRCA 1842-43. SIZE 13″ × 9″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate XXVI - -LAUSANNE - -CIRCA 1842-43. SIZE 14½″ × 9-13/16″ - -IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 824] - -[Illustration: Plate XXVII - -ZURICH - -CIRCA 1840-44. SIZE 12½″ × 9-3/16″ - -IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 287] - -[Illustration: Plate XXVIII - -THE SEELISBERG: MOONLIGHT - -CIRCA 1842-43. SIZE 11″ × 9″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate XXIX - -SCHAFFHAUSEN: THE TOWN - -CIRCA 1843-45. SIZE 18½″ × 13½″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF R. BROCKLEBANK, ESQ.] - -[Illustration: Plate XXX - -TELL’S CHAPEL, FLUELEN - -CIRCA 1845. SIZE 11⅝″ × 9″ - -FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.] - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[A] “Biographies of the Great Artists--J. M. W. Turner, R.A.,” Sampson -Low, 1897, p. 27. Of the many biographies of Turner, this, although -slight, gives probably the best and truest view of him and his work. - -[B] Turner’s conception of nature, I may remark, is identical with that -of Sir Joshua Reynolds, who says: “My notion of nature comprehends not -only the forms which nature produces, but also the nature and internal -fabric and organisation ... of the human mind and imagination.” -(Seventh Discourse.) - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WATER-COLOURS OF J. M. W. -TURNER *** - -***** This file should be named 63798-0.txt or 63798-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/7/9/63798/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/63798-0.zip b/old/63798-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 107d264..0000000 --- a/old/63798-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h.zip b/old/63798-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9d08a54..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/63798-h.htm b/old/63798-h/63798-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 9f3185a..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/63798-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2965 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" -"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> - <head> <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> -<title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of The -Water-Colours of J. M. W. Turner, by -W. G. Rawlinson & A .J. Finberg. -</title> -<style type="text/css"> - -a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - - link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - -a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} - -a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} - -big {font-size: 130%;} - -body{margin-left:4%;margin-right:6%;background:#ffffff;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} - -.blockquot {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%; -margin-left:4%;} - -.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.caption {font-weight:normal;} -.caption p{font-size:75%;text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.cb {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;font-weight:bold;} - -.ditto {margin-left:1em;margin-right:.5em;} - -.figcenter {margin:3% auto 3% auto;clear:both; -text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.footnotes {border:dotted 3px gray;margin-top:5%;clear:both;} - -.footnote {width:95%;margin:auto 3% 1% auto;font-size:0.9em;position:relative;} - -.label {position:relative;left:-.5em;top:0;text-align:left;font-size:.8em;} - -.fnanchor {vertical-align:30%;font-size:.8em;} - - h1 {margin-top:5%;text-align:center;clear:both; -font-weight:normal;} - - h2 {margin-top:4%;margin-bottom:2%;text-align:left;clear:both; - font-size:105%;font-weight:bold;} - - hr.full {width: 60%;margin:2% auto 2% auto;border-top:1px solid black; -padding:.1em;border-bottom:1px solid black;border-left:none;border-right:none;} - - img {border:none;} - -.letra {font-size:250%;float:left;margin-top:-1.5%;} - @media print, handheld - { .letra - {font-size:250%;padding:0%;} - } - -.nind {text-indent:0%;} - -.nonvis {display:inline;} - @media print, handheld - {.nonvis - {display: none;} - } - - p {margin-top:.2em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.2em;text-indent:3%;} - -.pagenum {font-style:normal;position:absolute; -left:95%;font-size:55%;text-align:right;color:gray; -background-color:#ffffff;font-variant:normal;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0em;} -@media print, handheld -{.pagenum - {display: none;} - } - -.pdd {padding-left:1em;text-indent:-.5em;} - -.r {text-align:right;margin-right: 5%;} - -.rt {text-align:right;} - -small {font-size: 70%;} - - sup {font-size:75%;vertical-align:top;} - - sub {font-size:75%;vertical-align:bottom;} - -.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;font-size:100%;} - -table {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%;margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;border:none;} - -</style> - </head> -<body> -<pre style='margin-bottom:6em;'>The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Water-Colours of J. M. W. Turner, by J. -M. W. Turner - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: The Water-Colours of J. M. W. Turner - -Author: J. M. W. Turner - W. G. Rawlinson - Alexander Joseph Finberg - -Contributor: Charles Holroyd - -Release Date: November 18, 2020 [EBook #63798] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team - at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - available at The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WATER-COLOURS OF J. M. W. -TURNER *** -</pre><hr class="full" /> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" -height="550" style="border:none;" alt="[Image of -the book's cover unavailable.]" /></a> -</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="" -style="border: 2px black solid;margin:auto auto;max-width:50%; -padding:1%;"> -<tr><td><p class="c"><a href="#ARTICLES">Articles</a></p> -<p class="c"><a href="#LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS">List of Illustrations</a><br /> <span class="nonvis">(In certain versions of this etext [in certain browsers] -clicking on the image will bring up a larger version.)</span></p> - -<p class="c">(etext transcriber's note)</p></td></tr> -</table> - - -<h1><small>THE WATER-COLOURS OF</small><br /> -J. M. W. TURNER</h1> - -<p class="c">TEXT BY<br /> -W. G. RAWLINSON<br /> -<small>AND</small> A. J. FINBERG<br /><br /> -FOREWORD BY<br /> -SIR CHARLES HOLROYD, R.E.<br /><br /><br /> -MCMIX<br /> -OFFICES OF ‘THE STUDIO’<br /> -LONDON, PARIS AND NEW YORK -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_ii" id="page_ii">{ii}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iii" id="page_iii">{iii}</a></span> </p> - -<h2><a name="PREFATORY_NOTE" id="PREFATORY_NOTE"></a><big>PREFATORY NOTE.</big></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">The</span> Editor desires to acknowledge his indebtedness to the following -collectors of Turner’s water-colours who have kindly lent their drawings -for reproduction in this volume:—Mr. C. Morland Agnew, Sir Hickman -Bacon, Bart., Mr. Ralph Brocklebank, Rev. William MacGregor, Mr. W. G. -Rawlinson, Mr. J. F. Schwann, and Mr. W. Yates.</p> - -<p>The Editor wishes especially to express his thanks to Mr. W. G. -Rawlinson, who, in addition to allowing several examples from his -collection to be reproduced, has rendered valuable assistance in various -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_v" id="page_v">{v}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iv" id="page_iv">{iv}</a></span>other ways in the preparation of this volume.</p> - -<h2><a name="ARTICLES" id="ARTICLES"></a><big>ARTICLES.</big></h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td valign="top" class="pdd">A Foreword by Sir Charles Holroyd, R.E. </td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_1">page 1</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="pdd">The Water-Colour Drawings of J. M. W. Turner, R.A.<br />By W. G. Rawlinson </td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_4"><span class="ditto">”</span> 4</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="pdd">The Turner Drawings in the National Gallery, London.<br />A. J. Finberg </td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_28"><span class="ditto">”</span> 28</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<h2><a name="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS" id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS"></a><big>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</big></h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">Plate</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_I"> I.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_I">The Archbishop’s Palace, Lambeth. From the Collection of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_II">II.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_II"> The Mouth of the Avon. From the Collection of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_III">III.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_III"> Peterborough Cathedral from the North. From the Collection of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_IV">IV.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_IV"> The Pent, Dover. From the Collection of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_V">V.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_V"> Distant View of Lichfield Cathedral. From the Collection of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_VI">VI.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_VI"> Edinburgh: from St. Margaret’s Loch. In the National Gallery, London.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_VII">VII.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_VII"> Stonehenge—Sunset. From the Collection of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_VIII">VIII.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_VIII"> Scarborough. From the Collection of C. Morland Agnew, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_IX">IX.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_IX"> Lulworth Cove. From the Collection of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_X">X.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_X"> Goarhausen and Katz Castle. From the Collection of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XI">XI.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XI"> The Lake of Nemi. From the Collection of C. Morland Agnew, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XII">XII.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XII"> Turin: from the Church of the Superga. From the Collection of C. Morland Agnew, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XIII">XIII.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XIII"> The Crook of the Lune. From the Collection of Rev. William MacGregor.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XIV">XIV.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XIV"> Norham Castle. In the National Gallery, London.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XV">XV.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XV"> Launceston. From the Collection of J.F. Schwann, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XVI">XVI.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XVI"> Barnard Castle. From the Collection of W.G. Rawlinson, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XVII">XVII.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XVII"> On the Lake at Petworth—Evening. In the National Gallery, London.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XVIII">XVIII.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XVIII"> Cowes. From the Collection of W. Yates, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XIX">XIX.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XIX"> Venice: The Salute from S. Giorgio Maggiore. National Gallery, London.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XX">XX.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XX"> Venice: Casa Grimani and the Rialto. In the National Gallery, London.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XXI">XXI.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XXI"> Lucerne. In the National Gallery, London.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XXII">XXII.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XXII"> A Swiss Lake. From the Collection of Sir Hickman Bacon, Bart.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XXIII">XXIII.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XXIII"> Bellinzona: from the South. In the National Gallery, London.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XXIV">XXIV.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XXIV"> Bellinzona: from the road to Locarno. In the National Gallery, London.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XXV">XXV.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XXV"> Lausanne: from Le Signal. From the Collection of W.G. Rawlinson, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XXVI">XXVI.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XXVI"> Lausanne. In the National Gallery, London.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XXVII">XXVII.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XXVII"> Zurich. In the National Gallery, London.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XXVIII">XXVIII.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XXVIII"> The Seelisberg: Moonlight. From the Collection of W.G. Rawlinson, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XXIX">XXIX.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XXIX"> Schaffhausen: The Town. From the Collection of Ralph Brocklebank, Esq.</a></td></tr> - -<tr valign="top"><td class="c">”</td><td class="rt"><a href="#plt_XXX">XXX.</a></td><td class="pdd"><a href="#plt_XXX"> Tell’s Chapel, Fluelen. From the Collection of W.G. Rawlinson, Esq.</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_FOREWORD_BY_SIR_CHARLES_HOLROYD_RE" id="A_FOREWORD_BY_SIR_CHARLES_HOLROYD_RE"></a>A FOREWORD BY SIR CHARLES HOLROYD, R.E.</h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span> AM particularly glad to write a foreword to this collection of -reproductions of water-colours by J. M. W. Turner, as they are perhaps -the best renderings of the beautiful originals that I have yet seen. The -more reproductions we can have of the master’s drawings the more will it -be possible to study properly his great message, and the more will his -genius be recognised. I would like to see everyone of his nineteen -thousand water-colour sketches and lead-pencil drawings reproduced, so -that we could all hold them in our hands and carry them about with us; -for in them there is an unfailing beauty of composition, and a glorious -truth of effect and of detail, by which Turner managed to make complete -pictures out of even the fewest touches. No one realises Turner’s full -genius till he studies these drawings, often made in the very presence -of nature. They teach us to look at her with a new and seeing eye. Their -absolute truth has hardly yet been fully recognised. I have had the -fortune to carry reproductions of these drawings with me in Wharfedale -and in Venice, and I have compared them touch for touch with nature. -Often and often have I been able to see the meaning of what appears a -careless scratch or even an accidental wriggle, only when the actual -scene was before me. They are mostly drawn from one exact spot, as may -be seen by the crossing of the branches of the trees, although these are -now so many years older, and the folding of the hills. It was in the -seventies that I first made these comparisons in Wharfedale and I still -remember my delight at recognising the gnarled markings on three ash -trees a little below Bolton Abbey; the angle of their growth forming a -rough letter N was identical although they were mere saplings in -Turner’s drawing, and even the broken bank of the river was still the -same, all the winter floods of variable Wharfe not having washed away -nature’s truth to Turner’s drawing. My experiences in Venice are -similar. With the reproduction in my hand I could say that Turner drew a -particular scene from a particular flagstone on the quay, or <i>piazza</i>. -The lines of the houses on both sides of the canal cut one another in -the exact way they did in Turner’s sketches only from one particular -spot, but from there the whole scene was complete exactly. Many subjects -were sketched from the middle of the canal and owing to the movement of -the water it was not easy to compare exactly the reproductions with the -scenes in nature. Curiously nearly all these scenes from the canal were -taken from the <i>traghettos</i>, or ferries, of which there are several up -and down the Grand Canal, where gondolas wait for hire, tied to their -posts, somewhat as cabs stand in their ranks in our streets. It is -possible that Turner in his economy made use of these waiting gondolas -by giving the gondolier a palanca for<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">{2}</a></span> permission to sit in a gondola -whilst it was thus at rest. It was an ideal place for working from in -his day, for no “penny steamboats” then splashed up and down the canal -making things rock in their wake, but peace reigned in the reflections -of the palaces.</p> - -<p>Only very few of the drawings of which I had reproductions went -unrecognised; one was a view from high up, probably from some room in -the monastery of San Giorgio, and others all contained a view of a tall -tower, which, from the neighbouring buildings, ought to have been the -Campanile of San Marco. But the tower in the drawings had an extra -cornice on the slope of the pyramidal top, with supports below, which I -could in no wise reconcile with nature and which puzzled me for some -time, in fact until I saw the restoration begun on the tower of San -Giorgio. Then I found that the extra cornice and supports were a -peculiar and ingenious form of scaffolding, used for the placing of new -tiles on the steep slope of the pyramidal top—and sure enough when I -got back to London and looked at the original drawing with a glass, the -touches of water-colour indicated the scaffolding quite plainly, and a -wonderful small splash of colour enabled one to realise the angel on the -top, wings and all. I found, too, that all drawings, in which the -Campanile appeared, done by Turner during that visit, gave the -restoration works quite plainly, even when the tower was seen from a -long way off. The beauty of the touches in Turner’s drawings from nature -can only be fully appreciated when the drawing, or a reproduction of it, -is compared with the actual subject, for every bend and movement of the -supple brush means something. It is not possible to convey the drawings -all over Turner’s far-stretching wanderings, but, if only we had good -reproductions of them all, what a pleasure we should all have, and how -much we should learn to appreciate his greatness. I should like to see, -as I have said, every fragment before the public. It is practically the -only way of using our great legacy fully. The original drawings are -perishable things, and must not always be in the light; many have faded -already, let us reproduce them while we may. The slighter sketches -reproduce best, as may be seen in this book. Such drawings as the -<i>Edinburgh from St. Margaret’s Loch</i>, about 1801 (<a href="#plt_VI">Plate VI.</a>), for -example. Note, too, the splendid sketch of <i>Barnard Castle</i>, about 1827 -(<a href="#plt_XVI">Plate XVI.</a>); how well it comes, we can almost see the brush-marks draw -the forms of the foliage, and the way Turner has used the water; they -are perfect in their way. When Turner worked up a drawing it became like -a lovely flower with a delicate bloom upon its infinite distances, as in -the <i>Lake of Nemi</i>, about 1818 (<a href="#plt_XI">Plate XI.</a>), and the <i>Crook of the Lune</i> -(<a href="#plt_XIII">Plate XIII.</a>); they are like a gloxinia or an auricula.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span> This curious -beauty of theirs was often obtained, as it appears to me, by alterations -in the surface of the paper and by colour left in the grain of the paper -after washing out or rubbing down a tone—it alters when the lighting of -the drawing is altered, and its changeableness is part of its beauty.</p> - -<p>I should like to see reproductions of the sketch books, made page by -page and bound in similar bindings to the originals, where these exist. -Mr. Finberg has lately put some of these books together again—some -drawings having been removed from the books for exhibition—for purposes -of the very useful inventory of our Turner drawings that he is so -carefully making for the Trustees of the National Gallery. The books are -much more interesting when seen together. I remember one which Turner -had with him in the Lake District and you could trace his itinerary by -turning over the pages. He evidently left Keswick in the morning and -drew two or three views of Lodore and the end of the Lake of -Derwentwater, the hills getting bigger as he comes nearer to them; -familiar views of Castle Cragg and the river come next, and to me some -most interesting views of that wide-spreading mountain Glaramara, some -of them from unfamiliar points of view; but I was able to recognise them -because I have stayed for a month at a time in farmhouses on the lower -slopes, and I have explored that beautiful mountain’s inmost caves. -After this Honister Crag and Buttermere appear in due course. How -interesting it would be to have reproductions of such books and follow -the track of the master page by page. How we should learn to know him -and to see familiar scenes with his eye. We should find that -exaggeration was not the character of his landscape drawing, when he was -working from nature, but insight into the forms. His effects of extra -height can generally be got by sitting low on the ground or even right -in a ditch. From his drawings, from those in this book of reproductions, -we learn again a forgotten truth. Fine drawing, form, is the essential -in our art; great and noble colourist as Turner was, we have had other -fine colourists in the British school of water-colour painting, but it -is just in his drawing and his sense of the beauty and significance of -line that he is supreme. As Titian in Venice excelled the great -colourists of his time, such as Bonifazio and Paris Bordone, so by his -drawing and sense of form Turner excelled as a draughtsman even more -than as a colourist.</p> - -<p class="r"> -CHARLES HOLROYD.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_WATER-COLOUR_DRAWINGS_OF_J_M_W_TURNER_RA_BY_W_G_RAWLINSON" id="THE_WATER-COLOUR_DRAWINGS_OF_J_M_W_TURNER_RA_BY_W_G_RAWLINSON"></a>THE WATER-COLOUR DRAWINGS OF J. M. W. TURNER, R.A. BY W. G. RAWLINSON.</h2> - -<p><span class="letra">W</span>HAT makes Turner’s water-colour drawings so profoundly -interesting—apart from their extraordinary and enduring -attractiveness—is the fact that in them lies before you, plainly -visible, the whole course and development of his art. And the -continuousness and regularity of that development are remarkable. There -are no pauses, no gaps, hardly a table-land; only one steady, continued -progress. No matter how high a point he reached, he was never content to -rest there, but was always pressing onward to fresh achievement, trying -new effects, challenging new difficulties even down to the last years of -his life. To anyone familiar with his work in water-colour, it is -generally easy to date his drawings within a year or two.</p> - -<p>No doubt the growth of his art can also be traced in his oil pictures, -but with some important differences. In them, even up to middle life, he -was constantly and strongly influenced by the work of other painters -whom he was often consciously or unconsciously rivalling. First Richard -Wilson, then Van de Velde and Bakhuysen, afterwards Gaspar Poussin, -Claude, Cuyp, Rembrandt, Titian and others, all in turn had their effect -on him. As a result of this rivalry, his oil pictures were less -spontaneous, less sincere than his water-colours. His lack of education -also unfitted him to be the painter of the classical and sacred subjects -in which he attempted to compete with the old masters. No doubt there -were brilliant exceptions—such, for example, as <i>Mercury and Herse</i>, -<i>Ulysses deriding Polyphemus</i>, and others, but I think Ruskin was -justified in calling many of them “nonsense pictures.” Moreover, in his -oil paintings Turner was constantly experimenting—not always -successfully—both with his materials and his methods and, as a -consequence, many, especially those of his later years, have greatly -suffered with time.</p> - -<p>But in his water-colours, after his first years or training and -experiment, he was simply and always himself—he was Turner. Paul -Sandby, John Cozens, Malton, Hearne, De Loutherbourg, and others of the -older water-colour painters, all had their influence on him, but in no -case did it last long. The two men who affected him most were Cozens and -Girtin, his friend and fellow student, of whom more will be said -hereafter. But by 1800, or at the latest 1802, Turner had passed all his -contemporaries, and stood alone, the acknowledged head of the English -school of water-colour painting, which in the-first half of the -nineteenth century was to reach its zenith. Before attempting to trace -the course of his art<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span> from its simple beginnings to its glorious close, -a few brief words may be desirable as to his early life and -surroundings.</p> - -<p>Born, it is usually supposed (but by no means known with certainty), in -1775, of humble parents—his father was a barber in Maiden Lane, -Strand—at a quite early age he developed unusual powers of drawing. The -barber proudly exposed his boy’s works in his shop window, and -occasionally sold them for a shilling or two apiece; he also showed them -to his customers, amongst whom was Thomas Stothard, R.A., who praised -them and advised him to make an artist of his son. It is impossible -accurately to trace his life before 1789, when he was presumably -fourteen, but it is clear that he had only some brief intervals of -schooling, first at a suburban and then at a sea-side academy—both -probably of the cheapest and poorest middle-class type—in fact he never -had any education worthy the name. He received lessons in drawing, -however, from various teachers, including Malton and probably Paul -Sandby, R.A. At about twelve or thirteen years of age, he was placed in -the workshop of the great mezzotint engraver, John Raphael Smith, who, -like many of his craft, was also a print dealer. Here Turner, along with -his future companion Girtin, was chiefly occupied in colouring prints -for sale, but he also learnt a great deal about engraving which was to -stand him in good stead in after life. After possibly another interval -of schooling, he passed, somewhere about his fourteenth year, into the -office of Mr. Hardwick, a distinguished architect, who employed him in -drawing and tinting “elevations,” adding landscape backgrounds to plans, -etc. It was here, no doubt, that he laid the foundation of the fine -architectural draughtsmanship which is noticeable in his earliest -exhibited works and throughout his life. Long before he had mastered -trees and foliage he could render accurately the lines and structure of -a great building, as well as its intricacies of detail, as, for example, -in the <i>West Front of Peterborough Cathedral</i>, which he exhibited at the -Royal Academy a year or two later. Water, also, seems to have presented -comparatively little difficulty to him from the first; owing possibly to -early studies at Brentford and Margate, at both or which places he was -at school. Very few, however, of his quite boyish drawings—I refer to -those before 1790—have survived, and those few are mostly copies of -prints or of works of other artists. One, <i>Folly Bridge and Bacon’s -Tower, Oxford</i> (taken from the heading of an Oxford Almanack), may be -seen in the National Gallery (No. 613 N.G.); another in my possession, -<i>A Roadside Inn</i>—the earliest dated work by him (1786) known to me—is -possibly original, but more probably copied from a drawing by M. A. -Rooker, A.R.A.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span></p> - -<p>From the architect’s office, at the instigation it is believed of Mr. -Hardwick himself, Turner in 1789 became a student at the Royal Academy, -and may be said to have definitely taken up an artist’s career. In the -following year, 1790, he sent his first drawing to the Royal Academy -Exhibition, then held in Somerset House. This was the <i>View of the -Archbishop’s Palace, Lambeth</i>, reproduced here (<a href="#plt_I">Plate I.</a>). For the work -of a boy of fifteen, the good architectural drawing, the admirable -rendering of reflected light on the houses, the careful treatment of the -figures (the costumes are quite correct for 1790), and still more, the -effectiveness of the composition are remarkable. There is, however, -nothing original in the style, which is simply that of Malton and -Sandby.</p> - -<p>To the next year’s exhibition (1791) he sent two drawings, one of which, -<i>The Interior of King John’s Palace, Eltham</i>, is a striking work, of -great originality. Not only has it the sound architectural -draughtsmanship before alluded to, but in its strong <i>chiaroscuro</i>, its -rendering of sunlight breaking through the ruined windows and lighting -the gloom, its sense of poetry and mystery, it would be creditable to -any artist of mature age.</p> - -<p>A curious phase in Turner’s work of the next year—1792—merits notice. -Influenced probably by the pictures of De Loutherbourg, a French -painter, who had settled in England and had been made an R.A., Turner, -for a few months entirely changed his scheme of colour, adopting a -curious range of greyish and purplish browns as his prevailing tone, in -place of the pale greys, blues, and neutral tints, which, in common with -the other water-colour painters of the period, he had hitherto employed. -In this style are several drawings of Richmond Park, one or two of a -fire at the Pantheon, and many of the beautiful scenery on the downs -beyond Bristol, where, during his early life, he often stayed with -relatives. One, <i>The Mouth of the Avon</i>, is reproduced here (<a href="#plt_II">Plate II.</a>). -In nearly all the Bristol drawings one special feature is noticeable. -Turner had evidently been struck by the unusual spectacle of the masts -and sails of the tall East-Indiamen, which were daily to be seen in full -sail under the thick woods of the Clifton downs, beating their way up -the narrow gorge of the Avon to the port of Bristol.</p> - -<p>Turner continued to exhibit at the Royal Academy in 1793 and 1794. He -sold his drawings readily, and, although I cannot discover any public -references to his work before 1796, he must have attracted notice, as in -1793 he received a commission—his first—for drawings for engraving. -The “Copper-plate Magazine” (afterwards known as “The Itinerant”) was -one of many serials then in vogue which were illustrated by the -water-colour painters—“draftsmen” they were usually called—and in one -of its five volumes he is alluded to as “the ingenious Mr. Turner.” He -is said to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span> been paid two guineas apiece for these drawings, with a -very small allowance for travelling expenses, it being stipulated that -every subject should be drawn on the spot. With his slender wardrobe and -his painting materials on his back, carrying usually also his -fishing-rod, he tramped the country; he found his way into Kent, across -Wales, through Shropshire and Cheshire, on to Cumberland, and returned -by the Midlands. A reproduction of one of the “Copperplate Magazine” -drawings—<i>Peterborough Cathedral from the North</i>—will be found here -(<a href="#plt_III">Plate III.</a>). Although on a small scale, it is typical of his work of -this period, and it shows the strong influence on him of his -contemporaries, Rooker, Hearne, and Dayes; yet there is always a decided -individuality of his own. As the late Mr. Cosmo Monkhouse<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> has well -remarked of these early drawings:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“The great fact in comparing Turner and the other water-colour -painters of his own time is this, that while each of the best of -the others is remarkable for one or two special beauties of style -or effect, he is remarkable for all. He could reach near, if not -quite, to the golden simplicity of Girtin, to the silver sweetness -of Cozens; he could draw trees with the delicate dexterity of -Edridge, and equal the beautiful distances of Glover.... He was not -only technically the equal, if not the master of them all, but he -comprehended them, almost without exception.”</p></div> - -<p>About this time (1793), Turner had the good fortune to attract the -notice of Dr. Monro, the leading Physician of Bethlehem Hospital, who -had a house in the Adelphi, and another at Bushey. He was a well-known -lover and patron of water-colour art, and was in the habit of inviting -promising young students, including Turner, Girtin, Varley, and other -afterwards well-known artists, to his house, where they were given -drawings by Rembrandt, Canaletto, Gainsborough, and other deceased -masters, to study and copy; especially also some recent sketches by John -Cozens, one of the most poetical of English painters, who had just -returned from Italy and Switzerland, where he had accompanied the -millionaire Beckford. The influence of Cozens on Turner was marked and -immediate, and the latter must have made a very large number of -transcripts of the elder painter’s works; in fact, all the very numerous -early drawings of Italian and Swiss subjects by Turner in Indian ink and -blue, which are so frequently to be met with, are copies from Cozens, as -Turner did not visit the Continent until<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span> 1802; yet, as I have before -remarked, all show a certain transformation in passing through his -hands. Dr. Monro gave the lads half-a-crown a night and their supper, -and kept their drawings. The training was an admirable one for them, and -when the doctor’s collection was dispersed at his death, it did not -prove a bad investment so far as he was concerned. Mr. Henderson, -another collector and amateur artist, afforded Turner and his companions -similar opportunities of studying and copying the works of older -painters.</p> - -<p>From 1793 to 1796 Turner’s advance in power was steady. His subjects -were varied—English and Welsh cathedrals, old castles, ruined abbeys, -village churches, country towns, waterfalls and trout streams—the -latter generally with a bridge and always with an angler. He was himself -a keen fisherman, and his anglers’ attitudes are always carefully drawn -and at once recognisable. Occasionally some striking atmospheric effect, -seen probably on the spot, is introduced. Sometimes the picture is -strikingly enhanced by the play of sunlight, occasionally by boldly -treated <i>chiaroscuro</i>. The architecture is invariably drawn with -accuracy and taste, both as regards perspective and detail. His -colouring was a dainty harmony of broken tints in pale blues, greens, -browns, and neutral greys. Many good drawings of this time are in -private collections, and the Print Room of the British Museum contains -some fine examples which have been preserved from light, and are -consequently in perfect, unfaded condition—notably <i>Lincoln and -Worcester Cathedrals</i>, and <i>Tintern Abbey</i>. Most of the English -cathedrals were drawn by him between 1793 and 1796, including, in -addition to the two just named, Canterbury, Ely, Peterborough, -Rochester, Salisbury, and York; as well as Bath, Kirkstall, Malmesbury, -Malvern, Tintern, Ewenny, Llanthony, Waltham and many other abbeys, -together with castles innumerable—all in the delicate, “tinted manner.” -He also made a large number of studies of boats and shipping at Dover, -one of which is reproduced here (<a href="#plt_IV">Plate IV.</a>). It was probably there and -at Margate that he laid the foundation of the extraordinarily accurate -knowledge of everything connected with the sea and shipping which -distinguished him all his life.</p> - -<p>His works of this early period are usually signed. The earliest -signature known to me is the one alluded to on page 5, “W. Turner, -1786.” For the next few years he signed either simply “Turner,” or -oftener “W. Turner,” occasionally adding the date. In 1799, when he was -elected an Associate of the Royal Academy, he changed to “W. Turner, -A.R.A.,” and in 1802, on receiving the honour of full membership, he -became “J. M. W. Turner, R.A.” A few years later he was appointed -Professor of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span> Perspective to the Royal Academy, and much to the -amusement of his fellow academicians he now sometimes added “P.P.” In -the works of his later life, it is the exception to find any signature.</p> - -<p>In Turner’s drawings of this period, as in those of the early English -water-colour school generally, one is struck by a freshness, a -simplicity, a new outlook on nature, which contrast with the works of -the classical painters who since the death of Rubens and the great Dutch -landscapists—Van Goyen, Cuyp, Hobbema, Van der Capelle, De Koninck, and -others—had for a century or more dominated European art. Landscape had -come to be regarded more as a fitting background to classical story, and -although often stately, was always more or less conventional. Now, -Nature was beginning to be studied and painted for her own sake. Yet -Turner, like Byron, throughout his life recognised that natural scenery -<i>alone</i> never makes a completely satisfying picture—always there must -be some touch of the human element, some suggestion of human presence, -human handiwork. This, however, is entirely a different point of view -from that of the classical painters.</p> - -<p>From the delicate tints which, up to 1795-6, had characterized the work -of Turner, in common with that of his contemporaries of the English -water-colour school, he passed, almost suddenly, in 1797, to a larger -and stronger style and a bolder range of colour, although the latter was -still limited as compared with the fuller tones of his middle and later -years. At first, in 1796, the pale blues and greens were simply deepened -and strongly accented, as was seen in the superb drawings of <i>Snowdon</i> -and <i>Cader Idris</i> which were shown last year (1908) at the -Franco-British Exhibition, and to some extent in the <i>Distant View of -Exeter</i>, in the Tatham Sale of the same year. Soon, however, these tones -were combined and contrasted with deep, rich, golden browns. In 1797, -1798, and 1799, Turner sent to the Royal Academy Exhibitions a series of -magnificent drawings of large size, all showing a striking advance in -range and power. Eight views of <i>Salisbury Cathedral</i> painted for Sir R. -Colt Hoare (two are in the Victoria and Albert Museum), the fine <i>Crypt -of Kirkstall Abbey</i> (Sloane Museum), the still finer <i>Warkworth</i> -(Victoria and Albert Museum) and the famous <i>Norham Castle</i> (the late -Mr. Laundy Walters), with several others, mark a new departure in his -art. Turner always said that he owed his success in life to the <i>Norham -Castle</i>. Thirty years later, when he was illustrating Scott’s works, and -was the guest of Sir Walter at Abbotsford, walking up Tweedside one day -in the company of Cadell the publisher, as they passed Norham Turner -took off his hat. On Cadell asking the reason, he replied, “That picture -made me.” Probably he considered that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span> it was to its influence that he -owed his election as an Associate of the Royal Academy in 1799, the year -of its exhibition.</p> - -<p>Some recent writers have contended that this great expansion of Turner’s -art was due to the influence of his friend and companion Thomas Girtin, -but they have adduced no evidence to support that theory. Girtin, it is -needless to say, was a very great painter, and his early death in 1802 -was a severe loss to English art. And no doubt he and Turner, in their -constant intimacy, must have continually and considerably affected each -other—indeed up to 1795 it is often exceedingly difficult to -distinguish between the two men’s work. But, so far as I have been able -to study Girtin’s early drawings, I cannot discover in those executed -before 1797—the year which witnessed Turner’s new departure—any of the -breadth and boldness which marked both men from 1797 onwards. Certainly -no work of Girtin’s of 1796—the year previous—approaches in force -Turner’s <i>Snowdon</i> and <i>Cader Idris</i>, which already in design if not in -colour herald his all-round expansion of 1797.</p> - -<p>Nor does the current opinion of that day appear to support the view just -alluded to—quite the contrary. The “St. James’s Chronicle” of 1797, -after praising Turner’s <i>Transept of Ewenny Priory</i> and <i>Choir of -Salisbury Cathedral</i> in the Royal Academy Exhibition of that year, goes -on to remark that, “Mr. Girtin’s drawings in general <i>appear to be -formed in the style of Turner</i>.” Again, “The Sun” of 1799 devotes a long -paragraph to the eulogy of Turner’s <i>Carnarvon Castle</i>, concluding with -the remark, “This is a drawing that Claude might be proud to own”; it -then praises Girtin’s <i>Bethgellert</i>, but prefaces its notice with the -observation “We do not remember to have seen the name of the artist -before the present year. <i>The drawing is something after the style of -the preceding artist</i>” [Turner]. Redgrave also effectually disposes of -the question in “A Century of Painters,” 1866, Vol. II., page 402.</p> - -<p>Moreover, Turner’s great drawings of 1797, 1798 and 1799 have -characteristics which are not at all those of Girtin. Already there is -visible something of that wonderful delicacy, that sense of mystery, of -‘infinity,’ that indefinable charm which we call ‘poetry,’ which -distinguishes his work—and especially his work in water-colour—from -that of every other landscape painter—work all the more remarkable in -that it proceeded from a man born in a back lane off the Strand, without -any education worthy of the name, and throughout his life unable to -speak or write grammatically—yet withal a man of strong intellect, -keenly ambitious, a reader, and a voluminous writer of poetry.</p> - -<p>One drawing only of this period is reproduced here—<i>Distant View of -Lichfield Cathedral</i> (<a href="#plt_V">Plate V.</a>). It suffers from the unavoid<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span>able -reduction in size, but it is characteristic of Turner’s altered style. -Unfortunately it has at some time been varnished, probably by the -painter himself, as have two others equally important, of the same -period—<i>The Refectory of Fountains Abbey</i> and a replica of the <i>Cader -Idris</i>—both of which are now in America. Gainsborough treated several -of his drawings similarly, as did Girtin, Varley, Barrett and others of -the early English school, their object being avowedly to rival in -water-colour the depth and richness of oil painting. But not -unfrequently, as here in the <i>Lichfield</i>, the varnish in time -disintegrates the colouring matter and produces a curious <i>granulated</i> -look, not unlike aquatint. Indeed, the fine <i>Fountains Abbey</i> just -alluded to was sold not many years ago at a well-known London auction -room, as a coloured aquatint, and fetched only £5.</p> - -<p>After Turner’s election in 1799 as an Associate of the Royal Academy, he -exhibited fewer water-colours and more oil pictures, although he was -continually producing drawings, mostly of large size and on commission. -For the next few years his style did not greatly alter, although a -steady growth in power and range is visible. Several large views of -<i>Edinburgh</i> and its neighbourhood, a series of <i>Fonthill</i> commissioned -by Beckford, another of <i>Chepstow</i> executed for the Earl of Harewood, -together with the Welsh castles of <i>Conway</i>, <i>Carnarvon</i>, <i>St. Donat’s</i> -and <i>Pembroke</i>, are among the most important. The <i>Stonehenge</i> -reproduced here (<a href="#plt_VII">Plate VII.</a>) is probably the work of about 1803-1804.</p> - -<p>He made also during this period a few drawings for engraving, but, with -the exception of the well-known <i>Oxford Almanacks</i>, these were chiefly -on a small scale and gave him but little scope; nor was he fortunate in -his engravers until in James Basire, the engraver to the University, he -met with an artist of higher standing. The University commissioned from -Turner ten large drawings for the headings of the <i>Oxford Almanacks</i>, -all of which he executed between 1798 and 1804. They are preserved in -the University Galleries, and are noticeable alike for their -architectural draughtsmanship, their admirable composition, and their -general breadth of treatment.</p> - -<p>About this time, and also in connection with a commission for engraving, -he was first attracted to that Yorkshire scenery which was afterwards to -have such an important influence on his career. Dr. Whitaker, the Vicar -of Whalley, on the borders of Lancashire and Yorkshire, a wealthy and -learned antiquary, required some illustrations for his forthcoming -“History of the Parish of Whalley,” and Turner was recommended to him, -it is said by a Harrogate bookseller, as a young artist of fast-rising -reputation. It was during this visit that he made the acquaintance of -Mr. Walter Fawkes, the squire of Farnley, near Leeds, at whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span> -hospitable mansion, Farnley Hall, he was shortly to become a frequent -and an honoured guest.</p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>It is time that reference should be made to the <i>sketches</i>, which form -such an important part of the volume of Turner’s work in water-colour. -From the outset of his career, on every journey, he made copious -studies—at first mainly in pencil, but sometimes in water-colour and -occasionally in crayon or oil—of every paintable spot he visited, -keeping usually a separate pocket-book for each tour. The sketches were -sometimes rapid, sometimes elaborate. Especially he made notes in colour -of skies, clouds, water, and any striking atmospheric effects which he -might chance to see. These although often slight, and usually swiftly -executed, were nevertheless singularly accurate. In a pocket-book of -1798 I find twenty-five such, with a list describing each:—<i>Twilight</i>, -<i>Clear</i>, <i>Rain Coming</i>, <i>Sunny</i>, <i>Crimsoned</i>, <i>Showery</i>, <i>Gathering -after Fog</i>, and so on. These sketches and studies he continued to make -and to store throughout his life, even up to his last journey on the -Continent in 1845. By the decision of the Court of Chancery, at the end -of a long litigation over his will, they were awarded—nineteen thousand -in all—to be the property of the nation, and after many years delay -they are now being admirably arranged and catalogued at the National -Gallery by Mr. Finberg, who writes on them here. It is needless to say -that to the student of Turner’s life work they are of the utmost -interest and importance, and often—especially the later ones—of -surpassing beauty. The examples which have recently (1908) been placed -on view in the National Gallery are mostly of Turner’s earlier periods, -but one or two belong to quite the close of his life; some are drawings -nearly finished but discarded.</p> - -<p>In 1802 Turner visited the Continent for the first time. He was -naturally impressed with Calais, his first French town, and on his -return he painted the well-known picture of <i>Calais Pier</i> (National -Gallery), and the still magnificent but now much darkened <i>Vintage at -Mâcon</i> (the Earl of Yarborough). But it was in Switzerland, Savoy and -Piedmont that he spent most of his time, and the results may be seen in -the fine drawings of Bonneville, Chamounix, and the Lake of Geneva in -various collections, the <i>Falls of the Reichenbach</i>, the <i>Glacier and -Source of the Arveron</i>, and others at Farnley, and the superb large -body-colour sketches of <i>The Devil’s Bridge</i> and the <i>St. Gothard Pass</i>, -in the portfolios of the National Gallery. Three of his Swiss drawings -he sent to the Royal Academy Exhibition of 1803.</p> - -<p>From 1803 to 1812 he was continually receiving commissions, both for oil -pictures and water-colours, from influential patrons,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span> including the -Earls of Egremont, Essex, Lonsdale, and Yarborough, Sir John Leicester, -Sir John Soane, and other wealthy amateurs. In 1807 he started his -well-known <i>Liber Studiorum</i> in rivalry of the <i>Liber Veritatis</i> of -Claude Lorraine, which had recently been successfully reproduced in -engraving by English publishers. For this he made about a hundred -drawings in sepia—a colour he rarely used elsewhere—as guides for the -professional engravers whom he employed on the work. Nearly all these -drawings, which are mostly slight, are now in the National Gallery.</p> - -<p>During the ten years between 1803 and 1812, Turner’s style in -water-colour underwent a gradual, but a very considerable change. He -left the dark blues and deep golden browns which, as we have seen, -marked his first departure in 1797 from the “tinted manner” of his early -days, and he gradually adopted a lighter and more natural range of -colour. This new style is best seen in the work of what is known as his -“Yorkshire period,” which began about 1809, and continued, with various -developments, up to about 1820. His subjects were at first mainly taken -from the neighbourhood of the stately house in the beautiful valley of -the Wharfe which has become a place of pilgrimage to Turner students -from all parts of the world—I refer, of course, to Farnley Hall. Its -then owner, Mr. Walter Fawkes, was up to his death a kind friend and -liberal patron of the painter, who was a frequent visitor at the house, -and retained the friendship of the family down to his latest years. -Farnley Hall is still filled with drawings by Turner of its -surroundings, the neighbouring Wharfedale, important Swiss and other -foreign landscapes, illustrations to Scott’s and Byron’s Poems, studies -of birds, fish, etc. It also contains some important oil pictures by -him. To one series of water-colours—the “Rhine Sketches”—I shall have -occasion to refer later.</p> - -<p>Ruskin admirably describes the characteristics of these ‘Yorkshire -drawings’ (“Modern Painters,” Vol. I., pp. 124, 125):—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“Of all his [Turner’s] drawings, I think those of the Yorkshire -series have the most heart in them, the most affectionate, simple, -unwearied serious finishings of truth. There is in them little -seeking after effect, but a strong love of place; little exhibition -of the artist’s own powers or peculiarities, but intense -appreciation of the smallest local minutiæ. These drawings have, -unfortunately, changed hands frequently, and have been abused and -ill-treated by picture-dealers and cleaners; the greater number are -now mere wrecks. I name them not as instances, but proofs of the -artist’s study in this district; for the affection to which they -owe their origin must have been grounded long years before.........<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span></p> - -<p>“It is, I believe, to these broad, wooded steeps and swells of the -Yorkshire downs that we, in part, owe the singular massiveness that -prevails in Turner’s mountain drawing, and gives it one of its -chief elements of grandeur.... I am in the habit of looking to the -Yorkshire drawings as indicating one of the culminating points of -Turner’s career. In these he attained the highest degree of what he -had up to that time attempted, namely, finish and quantity of form, -united with expression of atmosphere, and light without colour. His -early drawings are singularly instructive in this definiteness and -simplicity of aim.” ... “Turner evidently felt that the claims upon -his regard possessed by those places which first had opened to him -the joy and the labour of his life could never be superseded. No -alpine cloud could efface, no Italian sunshine outshine the -memories of the pleasant days of Rokeby and Bolton; and many a -simple promontory dim with southern olive, many a lone cliff that -stooped unnoticed over some alien wave, was recorded by him with a -love and delicate care that were the shadows of old thoughts and -long-lost delights, whose charm yet hung like morning mist above -the chanting waves of Wharfe and Greta.”</p></div> - -<p>From 1809 to 1820, Turner’s powers were rapidly developing, and he was -producing many important oil pictures, some of which—<i>The Frosty -Morning</i>, <i>Crossing the Brook</i>, <i>Somer Hill</i>, <i>Walton Bridges</i> and <i>Raby -Castle</i>—were, perhaps, among the finest of his whole life. He was also -busy with drawings for engraving—chiefly for book illustrations, and -probably for this reason he seems to have executed comparatively few -water-colours for commissions or for sale. One, however, the magnificent -<i>Chryses</i> (Mrs. T. Ashton), which he sent to the Royal Academy in 1811, -calls for notice. It is a large, impressive work, closely resembling in -design the <i>Glaucus and Scylla</i> of the <i>Liber Studiorum</i>, but on a -broader and nobler scale; the colour-scheme intermediate between that of -his early and his middle time. What is so remarkable is its -extraordinary <i>Greek</i> feeling. Colour apart, it at once recalls the -scenery and the sentiment of the Greek Islands, although Turner never in -his life saw them. Many will remember the effect which the drawing -produced in the Winter Exhibition of 1887 at Burlington House. Mr. -Morland Agnew’s beautiful <i>Scarborough</i>, reproduced here (<a href="#plt_VIII">Plate VIII.</a>), -also belongs to this period.</p> - -<p>One of Turner’s earliest series of book illustrations was his “Southern -Coast of England,” which he began about 1812 and continued to 1826. He -agreed with W. B. Cooke, a fine line-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span>engraver and an enterprising -publisher, to supply forty drawings of views along the coast, from the -Nore on the east to the Bristol Channel on the west; many other leading -water-colour artists of the day—De Wint, Clennell, Prout, and -others—being also contributors. Turner was to receive seven and a half -guineas apiece for the drawings, which were of small size; but although -this price was soon raised to ten, and later to twelve guineas, he -became dissatisfied, and broke with Cooke, who, however, judging from -the correspondence, appears to have treated him fairly. He had, -moreover, given him many other commissions for drawings and had held -exhibitions of these, and the engravings from them, at his rooms in Soho -Square.</p> - -<p>The Southern Coast drawings are elaborate, highly finished, and in a -rather warmer tone of colour than hitherto. Many are extremely -beautiful, but in some there is visible that crowding of lights and -foreground figures, which from this time onwards is not unfrequent in -Turner’s work. The majority of the drawings are now, alas, so faded as -to give but little idea of their pristine beauty. What they all were -like originally, may still be seen in the beautiful <i>Clovelly Bay</i> in -the National Gallery of Ireland (Vaughan Bequest), and in the <i>Lulworth -Cove</i> reproduced here (<a href="#plt_IX">Plate IX.</a>).</p> - -<p>About the same time, Turner made a fine series of drawings, all on a -large scale, of the beautiful country which lies inland among the hills, -between Hastings and Tunbridge Wells. These were commissions from a -well-known and eccentric M.P., “Jack Fuller,” whose country-seat “Rose -Hall” (now known as “Brightling Park”) lies in the heart of that -neighbourhood. Four were effectively engraved as coloured aquatints, but -were never published; the rest were reproduced as Line Engravings in the -“Views of Hastings and its Vicinity” (afterwards called “Views in -Sussex”), published a few years later. The series remained for a long -time unbroken, but it was dispersed at Christie’s last year (1908). All -the “Sussex” drawings were of the highest quality, sober in colour and -treatment, as befitted the character of the scenery, but the majority -have been badly faded by long years of exposure to sunlight.</p> - -<p>Somewhat similar in character to the “Southern Coast” drawings, but a -little later and even more highly finished, is a series which Turner -made in 1818-1819 from <i>camera obscura</i> sketches by Hakewill, an -architect, to illustrate the latter’s “Picturesque Tour in Italy,” -published in 1820. Ruskin, who possessed many of these, ranked them very -highly and frequently alludes to them in “Modern Painters” and -elsewhere. In the “Notes on his Drawings by J. M. W. Turner, R.A., -1878,” his last important work on art,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span> he describes them (p. 22) as “a -series which expresses the mind of Turner in its consummate power, but -not yet in its widest range. Ordering to himself still the same limits -in method and aim, he reaches under these conditions the summit of -excellence, and of all these drawings there is but one criticism -possible—they ‘cannot be better done’.” By the kindness of Mr. Morland -Agnew, two of the “Hakewill” series, <i>The Lake of Nemi</i> (<a href="#plt_XI">Plate XI.</a>) and -<i>Turin from the Superga</i> (<a href="#plt_XII">Plate XII.</a>), are reproduced here.</p> - -<p>In 1817 or 1818 Turner began the drawings which were to illustrate one -of his most famous works, the sumptuous “History of Richmondshire,” -which still admittedly remains the finest topographical book ever -published. The subjects—which were chosen for Turner by a local -committee of gentlemen—were all taken from that romantic district in -the North Riding of Yorkshire, on the borders of Lancashire and -Westmorland, of which the town of Richmond is the centre. The work was -to be the <i>magnum opus</i> of Dr. Whitaker whose earlier Histories of -Whalley and Craven had also been illustrated by Turner, and his -publishers, Messrs. Longman, spared neither pains nor expense in its -production. Turner was paid twenty-five guineas each—then his usual -price—for the drawings, which are now worth from one to three thousand -guineas apiece. Although simple in style and in colouring as compared -with the work of his later years, they have pre-eminently the charm of -the ‘Yorkshire period’ already alluded to. The finest of the series, -<i>The Crook of the Lune</i>, is, by the courtesy of its owner, the Rev. W. -MacGregor, reproduced here (<a href="#plt_XIII">Plate XIII.</a>). The necessary reduction in -size makes it difficult fully to appreciate the great beauty of this -drawing, which I regard as one of the most consummate works of Turner. -Although it must have been, one would imagine, a most intricate and -difficult subject for a painter, and notwithstanding that he has treated -it with extraordinary minuteness of detail—you can find at least twenty -different walks in it—yet all this wealth of exquisite detail is -perfectly subordinated to the unity and harmony of the composition as a -whole. The other “Richmondshire” drawings are scattered in various -collections; many, alas, are sadly faded from constant exposure to -light, notably the <i>Hornby Castle</i>, in the Victoria and Albert Museum, -which has become a complete wreck.</p> - -<p>May I be permitted here to draw attention to the fact—apparently little -known, but none the less true—that, with the exception of some of the -darker early works, <i>no Turner drawing can be continuously exposed -unprotected to light, without its ruin being eventually only a question -of time</i>. The more delicate—the more “Turneresque” it is—the quicker -will that ruin be accomplished. Usually the fading is so gradual that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span> -it is unnoticed by the owner, but it is certain, and, it need not be -added, the depreciation in value is equally certain. I would refer -anyone who thinks this an over-statement to the Blue Book on the -subject, published in 1888 (Report of the Science and Art Department on -the Action of Light on Water-Colours. H.M. Stationery Office, 1888). -Several striking object lessons of the effect of exposure may also be -seen at the National Gallery in Turner drawings which have been returned -after exhibition in provincial Galleries.</p> - -<p>Up to about 1830, Turner’s finished drawings were mainly in transparent -water-colour, but from a quite early period he employed body-colour in -his sketches, especially whenever speed was necessary. “Body-colour,” it -need hardly be said, is ordinary paint mixed with Chinese white or some -other opaque white substance in place of water, and is frequently used -on a grey or neutral coloured paper, by which means the work is much -more rapid. He had recourse to that method on one memorable occasion. In -1817 he went for a three weeks’ tour in the Rhine district, and during -that time produced no less than fifty drawings of fair size, <i>i.e.</i>, at -the rate of about three a day. He first stained the paper a uniform -bluish-grey, which, although itself sombre in tone, effectively shows up -the body-colour work, and must have effected an immense economy of time -as compared with ordinary transparent colour. When he returned to -England he took the drawings in a roll straight to Farnley Hall, and Mr. -Fawkes, to his delight, bought them at once for £500. For a long time -they remained in a portfolio unbroken, one of the treasures of the -house, but a few years ago some were dispersed at Christie’s. One of -these, <i>Goarhausen and Katz Castle</i>, is reproduced here (<a href="#plt_X">Plate X.</a>).</p> - -<p>In 1818 Turner went North to make drawings for “The Provincial -Antiquities of Scotland,” an important illustrated work in which Sir -Walter Scott, then in the height of his Waverley fame, was keenly -interested, and for which he was gratuitously writing the letterpress. -Sir Walter wished the illustrations to be given to a fellow Scotsman, -the Rev. John Thomson, of Duddingston, an able landscape painter, but -the publishers insisted that Turner’s was the name in vogue with the -public, and the work was accordingly divided. The drawings, which are -all highly finished and of fine quality, are entirely of Lowland -scenery, including <i>Bothwell</i>, <i>Crichton</i>, and <i>Roslyn</i> castles, three -or four Edinburgh subjects—one, <i>Edinburgh from the Calton Hill</i>, very -striking—and the seaside fortresses of <i>Tantallon</i> and <i>Dunbar</i>. They -were afterwards presented by the publishers to Sir Walter in recognition -of his services in ensuring the success of the book, and they remained -at Abbotsford until quite recent years.</p> - -<p>In 1819 Turner paid his first visit to Rome, and remained there<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span> some -time, going a good deal into English society at the Embassy and -elsewhere. He painted a few oil pictures, but not many water-colours; -among the most interesting is a fine series of studies in the Campagna, -most of which are in the National Gallery. (The “Hakewill” drawings of -Rome were probably all finished before he left England.)</p> - -<p>His visit to Rome would appear on the whole to have unfavourably -affected his art. His oil paintings especially, from this time began to -be more and more fantastic in subject, florid in colour, and complicated -in design. No doubt there are brilliant exceptions, such as <i>Childe -Harold’s Pilgrimage</i>, and others, but the old simplicity and sobriety -had gone. In the water-colours also the tendency to “foxiness” and -florid colour is noticeable, although not so pronounced; it is visible -in the Campagna sketches just alluded to. The change was soon recognised -by his admirers. In 1820 (the year following), I find in the “Annals of -the Fine Arts” the following discriminating criticism of an exhibition -of his works which was held that year at the town house of Mr. Fawkes of -Farnley:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“Turner appears here in his original splendour and to his greatest -advantage. Those who only know the artist of late and from his -academical works will hardly believe the grandeur, simplicity and -beauty that pervade his best works in this collection.... The -earlier works of Turner before he visited Rome and those he has -done since for this collection are like works of a different -artist. The former, natural, simple and effective; the latter, -artificial, glaring and affected.”</p></div> - -<p>From 1820 until about 1840, apart from his sketches, Turner’s work in -water-colour was almost entirely for engraving. This entailed a great -demand on his time, as he invariably also supervised the execution of -each engraving. Proof after proof had to be submitted to him, to be -returned by him again and again, touched, scraped, and drawn upon for -correction, before he would pass it. As he had an intimate knowledge of -the engravers’ technical processes and always took pains to explain to -them his <i>reasons</i> for the alterations which he required, he gradually -educated them to understand his aims and methods, and so stimulated -their ambition, that the best of their plates mark probably the highest -point which landscape engraving in line has ever touched. I refer -especially to those of “The Southern Coast,” Rogers’s “Poems” and -“Italy,” “Byron’s Works,” “Scott’s Poetical and Prose Works,” and -“Picturesque Views in England and Wales.”</p> - -<p>In 1824 we find Turner at work on the well-known “Rivers of England,” -the drawings for which, along with its companion series<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span> “The Ports of -England,” have for so many years—too many, alas, for their -welfare—been exposed for long periods and daily copied at the National -Gallery. These show a richer and more elaborate colour-scheme, as -compared with the simpler work of the “Yorkshire” period. An example, -the <i>Norham Castle</i> (No. XIV.), is given here. Both series were well -reproduced in mezzotint on steel, which metal had just begun to -supersede copper for engraving.</p> - -<p>In 1826 he commenced what was to have been his <i>magnum opus</i> in line -engraving—his “Picturesque Views in England and Wales.” In this -ill-fated work, which was from first to last commercially a failure, he -proposed to depict every feature of English and Welsh scenery—cathedral -cities, country towns, ancient castles, ruined abbeys, rivers, -mountains, moors, lakes and sea-coast; every hour of day—dawn, midday, -sunset, twilight, moonlight; every kind of weather and atmosphere. The -hundred or more drawings which he made for the work are mostly -elaborately finished and of high character. Some are perhaps -over-elaborated; in some the figures are carelessly and at times -disagreeably drawn; but for imaginative, poetical treatment, masterly -composition, and exquisite colour, the best are unsurpassed. I have -ventured to say elsewhere, that in my opinion there are at least a dozen -drawings in the “England and Wales” series any one of which would alone -have been sufficient to have placed its author in the highest rank of -landscape art. Two of the series are represented here—Mr. Schwann’s -beautiful <i>Launceston</i> (<a href="#plt_XV">Plate XV.</a>) is the earlier (1827); the striking -and very attractive <i>Cowes</i> (<a href="#plt_XVIII">Plate XVIII.</a>), belonging to Mr. Yates, is a -few years later. Turner was paid at the rate of sixty to seventy guineas -apiece—to-day they are worth from one thousand to two thousand five -hundred guineas each.</p> - -<p>A new phase in his water-colour art of 1830-1836 calls for notice, viz., -his numerous small drawings for <i>vignette</i> illustrations, the first and -the most important of which were for the far-famed plates of Rogers’s -“Poems” and “Italy.” The drawings for these are markedly different from -any of his previous work, and many of them strike what I cannot but -regard as an unpleasant note. Marvels of execution, delicate, highly -imaginative, and poetical in feeling as they are, they are often -strangely forced and extravagant in <i>colour</i>. And this applies to nearly -all his drawings for <i>vignettes</i>. Probably his reason for thus -falsifying his colour was connected with the form of engraving, as at -the same time he was producing some of his finest and sanest work for -the “England and Wales,” “Turner’s Annual Tours” (now better known as -the “Rivers of France”) and other engravings of ordinary (not vignette) -shape. Whatever may have been his motive, it appears to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span> me that owing -to this unnatural colouring, the exquisitely engraved vignettes -themselves are in many cases finer than the drawings for them.</p> - -<p>Many, however, of the small drawings of this time are superb, including -several of those on grey paper. In the “Rivers of France” series, -<i>Jumièges</i>, <i>Caudebec</i>, <i>Saint Denis</i>, <i>Rouen from St. Catherine’s -Hill</i>, and <i>The Light Towers of the Hêve</i> (all in the National Gallery), -are masterpieces, as are also many of the illustrations to “Scott’s -Poetical and Prose Works.” In Turner’s later years he frequently did not -sell his drawings for engravings, but lent them to the publishers, -charging usually five to seven guineas apiece. He kept many in his -possession up to his death, as he did nearly the whole of his sketches. -One day he brought the sixty drawings for the “Rivers of France” to -Ruskin, rolled in dirty brown paper, offering them to him for -twenty-five guineas apiece. To Ruskin’s grief he could not induce his -father to spend the money. In later years he tells us he had to pay -£1,000 for the seventeen which he gave to Oxford!</p> - -<p>A long succession of books were illustrated by Turner between 1830 and -1836, containing in all nearly three hundred and fifty plates, mostly of -small size. When it is remembered that he also closely supervised the -smallest details in the engraving of each one, and that at the same time -he was engaged on a number of oil pictures of the highest importance -many of which were finished and exhibited, and others left in various -stages of completion (including most of those recently added to the Tate -Gallery), it may be doubted if such a volume of work was ever before -produced in six years by any painter. With 1838, however, his work for -the engravers practically came to an end. He was now a rich man and able -to refuse tempting offers for the pictures which he had determined to -leave to the nation; as for example his <i>Old Téméraire</i>, which a wealthy -Midland manufacturer is said to have offered to cover with sovereigns.</p> - -<p>From 1838 to 1845, when his health began to fail, he spent an increasing -time each year on the Continent, and it was during this period that his -water-colour art passed into what many regard as its highest, as it was -its latest phase. I refer especially to the magnificent <i>Sketches</i> of -this time, the large majority of which are in the National Gallery. He -revisited Venice, which had cast her enchantment on him in earlier -years, and he returned again and again to the Lake of Lucerne, which, -after Yorkshire, was probably, up to the last, of all places in the -world the dearest to his heart. It would be difficult to say how many -times he drew the town, the lake, the mountains, and especially the -Righi. There are the <i>Red Righi</i>, the <i>Blue Righi</i>, the <i>Dark Righi</i>, -the <i>Pale Righi</i>, and a hundred other versions—each different, each a -‘vision of delight.’ He made<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span> drawings also in many neighbouring parts -of Switzerland, Piedmont, and Savoy.</p> - -<p>The sketches and drawings of this period have all the old delicacy, -combined with a greater breadth of treatment, and an amazing wealth and -range of colour. Sixty years’ experience had given Turner’s hand—which -up to the very last retained its extraordinary delicacy and certainty—a -marvellous cunning. In many cases the drawings were swiftly painted, in -others carefully stippled in details; usually with a dry brush worked -over body-colour. Sir Hickman Bacon’s beautiful <i>Swiss Lake</i> (<a href="#plt_XXII">Plate -XXII.</a>), <i>Lausanne</i> (<a href="#plt_XXV">Plate XXV.</a>), <i>The Seelisberg, Moonlight</i> (<a href="#plt_XXVIII">Plate -XXVIII.</a>), Mr. Ralph Brocklebank’s highly finished <i>Schaffhausen</i> (<a href="#plt_XXIX">Plate -XXIX.</a>), and <i>Tell’s Chapel, Fluelen</i> (<a href="#plt_XXX">Plate XXX.</a>)—which Ruskin believed -to be Turner’s last sketch on the Continent—along with most of the -reproductions from the National Gallery, are examples of this time.</p> - -<p>This last phase of Turner’s art was, however, at the time neither -understood nor appreciated, probably owing largely to the new -development which had recently taken place in his oil pictures. In these -he had set himself, in his old age, the last and hardest tasks of his -life—the painting of pure light, of swift movement, of the tumultuous, -elemental forces of Nature. Some of the <i>Venice</i> subjects, the -marvellous <i>Snow Storm at Sea</i>, and the <i>Rain, Steam and Speed</i>, were -entirely misunderstood and ridiculed. “Blackwood’s Magazine” led the -attack, and “Punch” and Thackeray added their satire. No doubt several -of his late oil pictures were far-fetched in subject, fantastic in -treatment, and eccentric in colour. Probably, also, no one knew better -than he that he had not reached the goal of his ambition; but he also -knew that his critics understood his aims as little as they did the -difficulties which he had to encounter in striving to reach them, and -the old man felt the attacks keenly. Ruskin tells us that he came one -evening to his father’s house in Denmark Hill, after an especially -bitter onslaught on the <i>Snow Storm at Sea—Vessel in Distress off -Harwich</i>, of 1842, which the critics had described as “soapsuds and -whitewash.” Ruskin heard him, sitting in his chair by the fire, -muttering to himself at intervals “Soapsuds and whitewash,” again and -again and again. “At last,” he says, “I went to him asking, ‘Why he -minded what they said?’ Then he burst out ‘Soapsuds and whitewash! What -would they have? I wonder what they think the sea’s like. I wish they’d -been in it.’” As a matter of fact, Turner had actually been on board the -boat at the time lashed to the mast, at the risk of his life.</p> - -<p>Nor has the work of his later years always been understood in our days. -Not many years ago a distinguished German oculist<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span> read a paper at the -Royal Institution which was afterwards published in which he endeavoured -to prove that what he considered eccentricities of colour in Turner’s -later oil pictures were due—not to his attempts to paint the -unpaintable—but to a senile affection of his eyes, which caused an -unnatural distortion of his vision to yellow in everything. But -Professor Liebreich can hardly have been aware that although the oil -pictures upon which he rested his theory, being mainly attempts to -depict objects or scenery seen in full sunlight, necessarily tended -towards yellow as their prevailing colour, yet at the very same time, -and up to his death, Turner was daily producing the sanest, most -delicate, most refined water-colour drawings in the palest as well as -the deepest tones of every colour on his palette! All the Swiss, -Venetian and other sketches of 1838 to 1845, which are the crowning -glory of the Water-Colour Rooms in Trafalgar Square, were executed -during the period when, according to Professor Liebreich, Turner’s sight -was permanently and hopelessly affected! No doubt he recognised that -water-colour was unsuited as a medium for his new aim at painting pure -light, and confined himself accordingly, for such subjects, to oil -painting.</p> - -<p>The attacks of the critics, however, had had their effect on the public, -and Turner in his later years began to find difficulty in selling even -his drawings. Ruskin, in his “Notes on his Drawings Exhibited at the -Fine Arts Society, 1878,” tells with inimitable charm and pathos how the -old painter, returning in the winter of 1842 from a tour in Switzerland, -brought back with him a series of important sketches, fourteen of which -he placed, as was his custom, in the hands of Griffiths, his agent, with -a view to the latter’s obtaining commissions for <i>finished</i> drawings of -each. Although the price asked for a large finished drawing was only -eighty guineas, and notwithstanding the great beauty of the sketches, -nine commissions only could be obtained. Ruskin, his father, Munro of -Novar, and Bicknell of Herne Hill, all chose one or more, but other -former patrons saw in them what they regarded as a new style, and -declined them. Thirty years after, Ruskin—with pride for Turner’s sake, -he tells us—sold his <i>Lucerne Town</i> for a thousand guineas; it has -since changed hands at two thousand. The <i>Lake of Constance</i>, which at -the time no one would buy, was given to Griffiths in lieu of his -commission; it fetched two thousand three hundred guineas at Christie’s -in 1907! After 1845 Turner’s health gradually failed; he continued to -work at his oil paintings up to his death in 1851, but, so far as is -known, he executed comparatively few water-colour sketches or drawings -during his last years.</p> - -<p>Little has hitherto been said as to Turner’s <i>technique</i> in water-colour -although the subject is one of great interest, but, unfortunately,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span> my -point of view is solely that of a student, and <i>technique</i> can only be -adequately dealt with by an artist. Much valuable information, however, -on the question will be found in Redgrave’s “Century of Painters,” Vol. -I., and in Roget’s “History of the Old Water-Colour Society.” From the -first he was a great innovator, choosing his materials and often -inventing his methods without regard to custom, precedent, or anything -but the attainment of the precise effect which he desired at the time. -Signs of scraping, spongeing, the use of blotting-paper, etc., are -constantly to be seen in his drawings. In some, including one in my own -possession, the marks of his thumb are distinctly visible in places. But -the result always justified the means employed! With his oil pictures, -especially those painted after 1830, his experiments, as we know, were -often disastrous in their ultimate effects, but it is extremely rare to -find any of his water-colours which have suffered in the smallest degree -when they have been properly kept. But alas, as has already been pointed -out, only too many, and amongst those some of the finest, have been, and -still are being, irretrievably damaged and changed by continual exposure -to light, both in Public Galleries and on the walls of their owners.</p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>In the foregoing pages I have endeavoured to avoid adding to the already -sufficient volume of ‘æsthetic criticism’ of Turner’s art, and I shall -confine myself now to the briefest summary of what seem to me the -distinctive features of his work in water-colour.</p> - -<p>What first strikes one in his drawings, apart from their technical -skill, is their <i>individuality</i>; they always stand out amongst the work -of other artists, however great. The chief cause of this is hard to -define, but I should say that it is that they almost invariably possess -a certain quality of imaginativeness, of what is termed ‘poetry.’ No -matter how simple was his subject, he instinctively saw it from its most -beautiful, its most romantic side. If it had little or no beauty or -romance of its own, he would still throw an indefinable charm round it -by some gleam of light, some veiling mist, some far-away distance, some -alluring sense of mystery, of ‘infinity.’ And Turner was a true poet, -although he had little enough of the look or the manners of one. -Throughout his life he was a reader and a voluminous writer of poetry, -but his want of education debarred him from ever expressing himself -coherently in verse. The same cause, together with his lack of a sense -of humour, interfered also with the perfect expression of his art, -especially in his classical and religious pictures, and prevented him -from seeing what was incongruous or at times unpleasing in them. But -only a poet deep-down could have won as he did from Nature her most -intimate secrets; could so<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span> have caught and so inimitably have portrayed -her every mood and charm.</p> - -<p>And it is this impress of his deep love for the beauty and the grandeur -of Nature—a love as strong as Wordsworth’s, as intense as -Shelley’s—which is perhaps the greatest cause of the enduring -attractiveness of Turner’s work. Without it, he would never have toiled -as he did all his life, from dawn to dark, year in and year out, -observing and recording in those nineteen thousand studies every kind of -natural scenery, every changing contour of mist and cloud, every -differing form and structure of tree, every movement or reflection in -water, every transient effect of light, storm, wind or weather.</p> - -<p>Then he often had a deep meaning in his pictures, beyond what was to be -seen on the surface, beyond, perhaps, what he himself could have always -explained. Sometimes, no doubt, it was far-fetched, sometimes fantastic, -yet it gives a character to his art which mere technical skill or -perfect design do not by themselves attain. By the modern school of -landscapists this would probably be regarded as a defect or even a -heresy. Pictorial art, they say, should not be ‘literary,’ should not be -intellectual. But to me it seems that the work of the highest -artists—of Leonardo, Michael Angelo, Holbein, Rembrandt, for -example—almost invariably appeals to the intellect as well as to the -senses. Mind, sensibly or insensibly, intentionally or unintentionally, -speaks to mind. As has been well said <i>apropos</i> of Ruskin’s writings on -Turner: “What if Ruskin’s torch lights up some beauty that the painter -himself was never aware of? As a great man’s inventions will carry more -readings than his own, so the meaning of a great painter is not to be -limited to his expressed or palpable intentions. There is a harmony -between the imaginings of both and Nature, which opens out an infinite -range of significance and supports an infinite variety of -interpretations.”</p> - -<p>After Turner had attained manhood—say from 1807 onwards—his <i>creative</i> -power constantly and increasingly made itself felt. It is more evident -in his oil pictures than in his water-colours, because in the latter, -more or less throughout his life, he was employed on illustrative, -topographical, work. But at an early period it is visible in his -drawings, notably in his <i>Liber Studiorum</i> (1807-1819). Leaving aside -actual landscapes such as <i>Solway Moss</i>, <i>Ben Arthur</i>, etc., his -creative, imaginative power is seen in such subjects as <i>Æsacus and -Hesperie</i>, <i>Peat Bog</i>, <i>Procris and Cephalus</i>, <i>The Lost Sailor</i> and -other plates of the <i>Liber</i>. It also appears from time to time in later -drawings. Yet a recent biographer has advanced the astonishing theory -that, whatever were Turner’s merits, up to almost the end of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span> his life -he was not a “creative” artist, merely an <i>illustrator</i>, and this idea -has been characteristically caught up and repeated by the latest German -writer on Modern Art. But is there any truth in it? I think not. The -painter of <i>The Frosty Morning</i>, and <i>Crossing the Brook</i> (National -Gallery); of <i>The Guardship at the Nore</i> (Lady Wantage); of <i>Childe -Harold’s Pilgrimage</i> and <i>Ulysses Deriding Polyphemus</i> (National -Gallery); of <i>The Shipwreck</i> (National Gallery), and a dozen other great -Sea Pictures, not a “creative” artist? The draughtsman of <i>Chryses</i> -(Mrs. T. Ashton), <i>The Land’s End</i> (“Southern Coast”), <i>The Longships -Lighthouse</i> (“England and Wales”), <i>The Alps at Daybreak</i> and <i>The -Vision of Columbus</i> (“Rogers’s Poems”), <i>The Plains of Troy</i> (“Byron’s -Poems”), <i>The Mustering of the Warrior Angels</i> (“Milton’s Poems”)? If -these, and scores of others which might be added, are not examples of -“creative” art, where are “creative” landscapes to be found? Is Martin’s -<i>Plains of Heaven</i> to be regarded as the type? Or is there no such thing -as “creative” landscape art? But, after all, does the question need -arguing? May one not just as well ask whether Botticelli, Michael -Angelo, Raphael, Rubens, Rembrandt, were “creative” artists?</p> - -<p>Of Turner’s technical skill in water-colour, there is no need to speak; -his command of his material was absolute and has never been equalled. -And his sense of design, of balance, of rhythm—of what is termed -“style”—was always present. He had caught it at the outset of his -career from his close study of Richard Wilson, who had inherited it as a -tradition from Caspar Poussin, Claude, and the painters of the -seventeenth century. Rarely is there anything tentative about his -drawings. They are decisive—the design was almost invariably seen by -him as a whole, from the beginning. Often his work did not please him, -and if it was finished it was discarded; if unfinished, it was carried -no further—as may be seen in several of the drawings recently (1908) -exhibited at the National Gallery, and a good many of the oil pictures -at the Tate Gallery. He was also emphatically a great colourist—one of -the greatest; during the latter half of his life he thought in colour, -and composed in colour, and it was with him an integral part of every -design. That is why his drawings can never be adequately reproduced by -ordinary photography. During middle life, as has been pointed out, his -colour at times became forced and florid, but it was never more pure, -never more beautiful, never more noble, than in his latest sketches.</p> - -<p>At times, no doubt, Turner’s water-colours, especially those executed -between 1820 and 1836, have a tendency to undue complexity of design, -and to overcrowding both of subject and lights. Possibly to some extent -this was due to the prevailing<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span> standard of English art and English -taste at that time. Then, perhaps even more than now, high finish was -too often unduly insisted on. But you will never find too high finish or -overcrowding in the drawings which he made <i>for himself</i>! His figures, -also, were frequently unsatisfactory. It was not that he could not draw -them—at first they were dainty and careful, as may be seen in the two -early drawings, Plates I. and III. But in his later years he seemed to -regard figures simply as points of light, colour or composition—they -were always effective as such—and he often treated them -carelessly—sometimes even coarsely—to the detriment of some of his -otherwise most beautiful works.</p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>Turner is often claimed by the militant school of landscapists of to-day -as one of the first and greatest ‘impressionists.’ In a certain sense no -doubt this is true, but his ‘impressionism,’ it seems to me, was wholly -different in nature from theirs.</p> - -<p>During his life, as we have seen, he made thousands of sketches, some -slight, some elaborate, of places, scenery, and natural -effects—shorthand memoranda,’ so to speak—many of which may certainly -be called ‘impressionist.’ <i>But all these were founded on, or were -intended to add to, his accurate, minute and exhaustive study of natural -forms, and a draughtsmanship which has probably never been equalled by -any other landscape painter.</i></p> - -<p>Then, as is notorious, he frequently altered certain features of -landscapes or buildings to suit the requirements of his pictures—their -symmetry, their accent, their colour-scheme—or in order to convey some -suggestion as to their meaning. In a letter still preserved, he declares -himself opposed to literalism in landscape—“mere map-making” he terms -it. And when for any reason he thus altered the actual features of a -scene, he still almost always contrived to preserve the <i>impression</i> of -it as a whole—usually under its best aspect, at its choicest moment. In -this sense also he was an ‘impressionist.’</p> - -<p>Again, when towards the close of his life he began to attempt the -representation (mainly in oil colour) of pure sunlight—as in his latest -<i>Venice</i> pictures; or of form in swiftest movement—as in <i>Rain, Speed -and Steam</i>; or of the mighty contending forces of Nature—as in his -<i>Snow Storm off Harwich</i>, he painted <i>such subjects</i> in the only method -by which they could be intelligibly rendered. In the same way Whistler, -in his Nocturnes, demonstrated for the first time in Western art, the -beauty of prosaic and even ugly objects, seen in dim light. Both -perforce adopted the ‘impressionist’ method, because it was the only -effective, indeed the only possible one.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span></p> - -<p>But to me it appears that there is all the difference in the world -between <i>these</i> phases of ‘impressionist’ art and the principles of the -modern landscape school, whose works a brilliant set of writers in the -press of to-day are continually calling upon us to admire. The advanced -‘impressionists’ both in France and in England seem to go out of their -way to represent <i>the ordinary aspects of nature</i> with a manifest -determination to avoid any but the vaguest rendering of form, no matter -how clearly defined in such circumstances those forms may seem to -ordinary Philistine vision. They also ordinarily abjure as ‘literary’ -any kind of appeal to the intellectual faculties, and apparently confine -their aim to the production of a more or less startling, but generally -cleverly managed patterning of light, shade, and colour, obtained -usually by means of masses of coarse, solid, and often ragged pigment, -carefully arranged so that the effect intended may be found, like a -fire-plug, at a certain exact, calculated spot. Surely Turner’s -‘impressionism’ was far removed from this? Surely it is hard that he -should be charged with being the precursor of the landscape school to -which I have alluded, whatever may be its merits?</p> - -<p> </p> - -<p>Possibly it is too soon as yet to predict what will be Turner’s ultimate -place in art. Like every really great artist (I use the word in its -widest sense) he will be judged, not by his defects or his -mistakes—even if they be many and palpable—but by the <i>heights</i> to -which he attained, and the mark which he has left for others to follow. -For myself, I believe that if his water-colours are allowed to remain -unfaded for future generations, they, along with his best oil pictures, -will be counted worthy to entitle him to a place amongst the greatest -painters of all centuries and all schools.</p> - -<p class="r"> -W. G. RAWLINSON.<br /> -</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>[In common with the Editor of <i>The Studio</i>, I desire to acknowledge -my deep obligations to the various owners of valuable drawings by -Turner, who have kindly allowed them to be reproduced here. There -were, however, others which I should like to have seen represented, -but as these were not available, the Editor desired to replace them -with examples from my own collection. This must explain what will -otherwise seem the undue proportion of the latter.—W. G. R.]</p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_TURNER_DRAWINGS_IN_THE_NATIONAL_GALLERY_LONDON_BY_A_J_FINBERG" id="THE_TURNER_DRAWINGS_IN_THE_NATIONAL_GALLERY_LONDON_BY_A_J_FINBERG"></a>THE TURNER DRAWINGS IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. BY A. J. FINBERG.</h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HE usual way of painting a landscape nowadays is for the artist to take -his easel and canvas out into the fields, and to work as far as possible -with the scene he is representing before his eyes. The scene, with the -artist’s chosen effect, is of course constantly changing, so the artist -can work only for a short time each day. The effect itself will probably -last for a period varying from a couple of minutes to about half an -hour, according to circumstances; but the painter may be usefully -employed in getting his work into condition for about an hour before the -effect is due, and he may work on for perhaps another hour while the -effect is still fresh in his memory. As one sitting of this kind will -not enable the artist to carry his work far, it is necessary that he -should return day after day to the scene; and if he is determined to -paint it entirely on the spot, he must be prepared to devote some months -at least to the work.</p> - -<p>The habit of painting and finishing pictures entirely out of doors was, -I believe, introduced by the Pre-Raphaelites during the fifties, but -before this, Constable and other artists had worked largely from rather -elaborate colour studies made out of doors. Turner did not work at all -in this way. All his pictures were painted in the studio, and generally -from very slight pencil sketches. So far as I know he never made even a -slight colour study from nature for any of his pictures.</p> - -<p>As the methods of work employed by the great artists are of very great -interest, I think it will be worth while to take one of his wellknown -works and to trace its evolution somewhat in detail. The beautiful -drawing of <i>Norham Castle</i>, reproduced here (<a href="#plt_XIV">Plate XIV.</a>), will do very -well for this purpose.</p> - -<p>This drawing was made to be engraved in a series known as the “Rivers of -England.” Charles Turner’s really fine mezzotint of it was published in -1824, so the drawing must have been made at least a year or two before -this date. The pencil sketch on which it was based was made some quarter -of a century earlier—to be quite accurate, in the summer or autumn of -1797.</p> - -<p>At that time Turner was a young man of twenty-two, but he had already -made his mark as one of the best topographical and antiquarian -draughtsmen of the day. He had been a regular exhibitor at the Royal -Academy for eight years, and publishers and amateurs were beginning to -compete for his productions. It was his habit every summer to map out -for himself a lengthy sketching tour, his aim being to accumulate in his -portfolio a pencil drawing<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span> made by himself of every building or natural -feature that he might be called upon to illustrate. These subjects were -dictated by the taste of the time, which generally ran towards the -ruined abbeys and castles of the middle ages. As Turner’s subject-matter -was prescribed for him in this way, he did not, like the modern artist, -have to waste any time looking for promising subjects. He had merely to -study the numerous guide-books that were even then in existence, to make -out a list of the more important castles, abbeys, and Gothic buildings, -and to hurry from one to the other as fast as the coaches or his own -sturdy legs could carry him. The methodical and stolidly business-like -manner in which he set about and carried through this part of his work -is calculated to shock the gushing and casual temperament of the artist -of to-day.</p> - -<p>Turner’s programme in 1797 was an extensive one, and, what is much more -remarkable, he carried it out. He seems to have taken the coach into -Derbyshire, as he had already appropriated everything of interest in the -Midland counties. He carried two sketch books with him, each bound -handsomely in calf, the smaller with four heavy brass clasps, the larger -with seven. The pages in the smaller book measure about 10½ by 8¼ -inches, those of the larger about 14½ by 10½. Both these books are now -in the National Gallery collection, and will shortly, I hope, be made -accessible to students and the general public.</p> - -<p>The campaign opens with two drawings of, I think, <i>Wingfield Manor</i>, -then comes a church with a tall spire on a hill which I cannot identify; -then we have one drawing of <i>Rotherham Bridge</i> with the chapel on it, -then one of <i>Conisborough Castle</i>, single views of the exterior and -interior of <i>Doncaster Church</i>, three different views of the ruins of -<i>Pontefract Church</i>, and then two neat drawings of the <i>Chantry on the -Bridge at Wakefield</i>. It is not till he gets to Kirkstall Abbey that the -artist seems to pause in his breathless rush to the North. There are no -less than nine drawings of this subject, all made from different points -of view; one of these leaves containing the sketch of the Crypt—from -which Sir John Soane’s impressive water-colour was made—contains just a -fragment of colour, and has been for many years among the drawings -exhibited on the ground floor of the National Gallery. In this way we -can follow Turner to Knaresborough, Ripon, Fountains and Easby Abbeys, -Richmond, Barnard Castle, Egglestone Abbey and Durham, and then along -the coast to Warkworth, Alnwick, Dunstanborough, Bamborough and Holy -Island. Judging from the drawings, I think it probable that Turner spent -the best part of a day at Holy Island, but he got to Berwick in time to -draw a general view of the town and bridge, and to make a slight sketch -with his limited gamut of colours—black, blue, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span> yellow only—of the -evening effect. The next morning he was up in time to see the sun rise -from behind the towers of Norham Castle, and to trace a slight and -hurried pencil outline of the main features of the scene. There is only -this one sketch of the subject, and it does not contain the slightest -suggestion of light and shade or of effect. But there were Kelso and -Melrose and Dryburgh and Jedburgh Abbeys close by waiting to be drawn, -and Turner evidently felt he must hurry on. Having drawn these ruins in -his neat and precise way he turned south and struck into Cumberland. In -the larger sketch book a drawing inscribed <i>Keswick</i> follows immediately -after one of the views of <i>Melrose Abbey</i>. Then comes <i>Cockermouth -Castle</i>, <i>the Borrowdale</i>, <i>Buttermere</i>, <i>St. John’s Vale</i>, <i>Grasmere</i>, -<i>Rydal</i>, <i>Langdale</i>, and <i>Ulleswater with Helvellyn in the distance</i>. -Then follow in rapid succession <i>Ambleside Mill</i>, <i>Windermere</i>, -<i>Coniston</i>, <i>Furness Abbey</i>, <i>Lancaster</i>, and after a single drawing of -<i>Bolton Abbey</i> we find ourselves in York, where the Cathedral and the -ruins of St. Mary’s Abbey and Bootham Bar must have detained the artist -for perhaps two or three days. The tour, however, is not yet at an end, -for the Hon. Mr. Lascelles (who became Earl of Harewood in 1820) wants -some drawings of Harewood House and of the ruins of Harewood Castle, and -Mr. Hewlett wants some subjects to engrave in his forthcoming “Views in -the County of Lincoln.” It is, therefore, through Howden, Louth, Boston, -Sleaford, and Peterborough that Turner makes his way back to London. He -must have been back by September, for among the drawings exhibited at -the Royal Academy in the following May was one described as “<i>A Study in -September of the Fern House, Mr. Lock’s Park, Mickleham, Surrey</i>.” He -can, therefore, hardly have been away much more than three months, if so -long, but his strenuous vacation had yielded an abundant crop of useful -material.</p> - -<p>It must have been October before Turner was fairly back in his studio in -Hand Court, Maiden Lane, and had settled down to work up this material. -By the following April he had four important oil paintings and six -water-colours ready for the Exhibition. One of these oil paintings (the -<i>Dunstanborough Castle</i>) now hangs in the Melbourne National Gallery, to -which it was presented by the late Duke of Westminster; two others -(<i>Winesdale, Yorkshire—an Autumnal Morning</i> and <i>Morning amongst the -Coniston Fells</i>) hang in the little Octagon room in Trafalgar Square, -and the fourth is on loan to the Albert Memorial Museum, Exeter. This is -the <i>Buttermere Lake, with part of Cromack Water</i>, a really fine -painting, though it has darkened considerably. As the first important -oil painting in which Turner’s genius was clearly manifested, I should -rejoice to see it hanging in Trafalgar Square. The pencil drawing on -which it was based contains some work in water-colour, possibly made -direct from<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span> nature, but the details and general effect have been -entirely recast in the finished work. Among the water-colours were the -gloomy and superb <i>Kirkstall Abbey</i>, now in the Soane Museum, to which I -have already referred, and the drawing of <i>Norham Castle</i>, with which we -are now more particularly concerned.</p> - -<p>The drawing exhibited in 1798 is not the one here reproduced. The -exhibited drawing is probably the one now in the possession of Mr. -Laundy Walters. A photographic reproduction of it was published in Sir -Walter Armstrong’s “Turner” (p. 34), and it is worth pausing a moment to -compare this with the original pencil sketch and to consider in exactly -what relation these two drawings stand to each other.</p> - -<p>The usual way of describing the process by which a slight sketch from -nature is converted into a finished drawing is to say that the artist -copied his sketch as far as it went and then relied upon his memory for -the further elaboration that was required. An artist’s memory is assumed -to consist of images of the scenes he has witnessed, which he has some -mysterious power of storing somewhere in his mind, something like, I -suppose, the undeveloped exposures in a Kodak. According to this theory -we should have to assume that the particular sight of the sun rising -behind Norham Towers which had greeted Turner on the morning he hurried -from Berwick to Kelso had been treasured up in the inner recesses of his -consciousness, and then some months afterwards, when the appropriate -moment came, he had only to select this particular image from among the -millions of other images in the same mysterious storehouse, to develop -it and copy it on to his canvas. I need hardly add that this desperate -theory is quite fanciful and absurd, and in flat contradiction to the -teachings of modern psychology.</p> - -<p>A description that would not be open to such objections would run -something like this: When we are dealing with the processes of artistic -creation we have to assume an intelligent human agent, and analogies -drawn from purely mechanical sources can only mislead us. We must not -assume that an artist’s senses and intellect work like the mechanism of -a camera, or in any other abnormal way, unless we have some strong -evidence to support us. And we must also remember that a visual image is -a useful abstraction in psychology, but in the conscious life of an -intelligent human being it is merely an element within the ordinary life -of thought and feeling. Let us therefore assume that Turner not only -made no effort to retain the exact visual impression of the scene in -question, but that he did not even attempt to separate this impression -from the general whole of thought and feeling in which it was -experienced. The particular matter of sense-perception would then<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span> -become incorporated in the general idea or the object—in the ordinary -way in which sense qualities are preserved in ideas. When Turner -therefore sat down to make his picture, what he would have prominently -and clearly before his mind would be a general idea of Norham Castle as -a ruined border fortress, a scene of many a bloody fray and of much -bygone splendour and suffering. In short, his idea would be what the -art-criticism of the Henley type used to describe contemptuously as -“literary”; that is, it was steeped in the colours of the historical -imagination, and was practically the same as that which a man like Sir -Walter Scott or any cultivated person of the present time would -associate with the same object. Instead, therefore, of having a single -image before his mind which he had merely to copy, Turner started with a -complex idea, which might, indeed, have been expressed more or less -adequately in the terms of some other art, but which he chose on this -occasion to express in pictorial terms.</p> - -<p>In this way we can understand why Turner did, as a matter of fact, -frequently and constantly attempt to express his ideas in the form of -verbal poetry, and why, in the drawing we are now considering, he felt -himself justified not only in filling out his sketch with details that -were neither there nor in the real scene, but also in taking -considerable liberties with the facts contained in the sketch, altering -them and falsifying them in ways that could not be defended if his aim -had been to reproduce the actual scene itself. The colouring too of Mr. -Walter’s drawing owes much more to Turner’s study of Wilson’s pictures -than to his visual memory of natural scenes; that is to say, the colour -is used as an instrument of expression,—as a means to bring the -imagination and feelings of the spectator into harmony with the artist’s -ideas, as well as to indicate in the clearest possible manner that it -was not the artist’s intention to represent the actual scene in its -prosaic details.</p> - -<p>This picture, with the others exhibited in 1798, settled the question -for Turner’s brother artists and for himself that he was a genuinely -imaginative artist and not a merely clever topographical draughtsman. -The following year he was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy, at -the early age of twenty-four, and throughout his long life he always -regarded himself as entitled to take any liberties with actual -topographical facts that the expression of his ideas demanded.</p> - -<p>The success of the first <i>Norham Castle</i> drawing induced Turner to -repeat the subject several times. The late Mrs. Thwaites had another -water-colour of it in her collection, there are at least three -unfinished versions in the National Gallery, and I have seen a version -of it in oil. The subject was engraved in the “Liber<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span>” from what -purported to be the picture in the possession of the Hon. Mr. Lascelles, -but really from a fresh design made by the artist. Then Turner painted -the subject again for Mr. Fawkes of Farnley, and again, about 1822 or -1823, he made the drawing for the “Rivers of England” series, here -reproduced. What is so interesting in all this is that the details in -each of these versions are different, yet they all seem to have been -based on the same pencil sketch. The relative size of the castle varies -in each drawing, as well as the details of its embrasures and crumbling -masonry; the character of the river banks also varies. In the earlier -versions the right bank is steep and rocky, as suiting the solemn and -gloomy effect of the subject; in the latest version, where the humble -pastoral life of the present is thrown more into prominence, this bank -becomes flat and peopled with fishermen, their boats and cows.</p> - -<p>In one of the many anecdotes told of Turner he is represented as saying -to an artist who had complained of the disappointment he had experienced -on revisiting a certain place, “Don’t you know you must paint your -impressions”—or words to that effect. I don’t know how true the story -is—and I may confess that I have almost got into the habit of -disbelieving <i>all</i> the stories told about Turner—but whether true or -not this particular anecdote is certainly well invented. Turner knew -quite well how large a part his subjective feelings and ideas played in -all his work, and it made him shy of revisiting places that had once -impressed him. But when he spoke of his “impressions” we must be careful -not to suppose that he could have used the expression in the way it is -often used now. He did not abstract his particular visual impressions -from the emotional and ideational context in which they were -experienced. In so far as Impressionism means this kind of abstraction, -Turner was never an impressionist. And as his first ideas of places were -steeped in the colouring of his own subjective life, so his ideas were -ever taking on different hues as his temper and character changed. In -this way he could use the same sketch again and again and always get -different effects from it; the sensuous datum was merely a point of -departure for each fresh improvisation, a form into which he could pour -his meditations, but a flexible, plastic form which readily took the -shape of its spiritual content.</p> - -<p>These considerations may help us to understand what is apt at first to -strike the student of Turner’s drawings and sketches as strange and -incomprehensible. Turner was always sketching from nature, and often -making drawings that contain an amazing wealth of detail and definition, -yet the usefulness of his sketches seemed to vary in inverse ratio to -their definition and to the time spent upon them. The beautiful drawings -never seemed to lead to anything,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span> all the pictures being painted by -preference from the slightest and vaguest sketches. Thus the sketch book -which contains the sketch of <i>Norham Castle</i> is filled with over ninety -drawings, most of them full of detail and delightfully precise and -graceful in handling. Turner made good use of most of this material, but -the most prolific “breeding” subject—to use one of Richard Wilson’s -expressions—was unquestionably the hurried scribble of Norham, which -was so slight as not to indicate even the general shape of the ruined -tower with precision, and which left the number of windows or embrasures -entirely undetermined. But when we see how Turner used his sketches we -can easily understand that this absence of definition must often have -been a positive advantage to him when he came to paint his pictures. -There was less “to put him out,” fewer obstacles in the way of his -subjective utterance, the form was more fluid and tractable to his -immediate purpose. The more detailed studies were of course not wasted, -for the knowledge they gave him enabled him to fill out the slightest -hints of his “breeding” subjects with an inexhaustible wealth of -plausible detail.</p> - -<p>The National Gallery collection contains just on three hundred of -Turner’s sketch books, and practically the whole of his work done -immediately in the presence of nature. This data enables us to speak -with absolute authority upon the difficult question as to the relation -between Turner’s art and nature. They prove that he very seldom, if -ever, painted a picture simply “out of his head.” In everything he -did—even, I believe, in the case of what have been called his classical -nonsense pictures—there was a nucleus of immediately perceived fact. -This sensuous basis is seldom, if ever, absent from his work, but it is -invariably overlaid and distorted by the purely subjective forces of the -artist’s personality, which appropriate the data of sense, and mould -them into any shape they choose. It is impossible, especially since -“Modern Painters” was written, to overlook the important part played by -natural fact in all of Turner’s creations, but it is just as important -not to overlook the equally obvious and certain truth that Turner never -uses nature simply for its own sake, but only as a means of expression. -The methods employed in the particular case we have just studied are, -with few exceptions, the methods which he adopted during the whole of -his career.</p> - -<p>Yet Turner did undoubtedly upon occasion paint in oil directly from -nature. An instance of this kind is described by Sir Charles Eastlake in -“Thornbury” (p. 153, 3rd edition). Eastlake met Turner during his second -visit to Devonshire, probably in the summer of 1813, and accompanied him -to a cottage near Calstock, the residence of Eastlake’s aunt, where they -stayed for a few days.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span> Another artist was with them, a Mr. Ambrose -Johns, of Plymouth. It was during their rambles in the neighbourhood of -Calstock that Turner gathered the material for his picture of “<i>Crossing -the Brook</i>.” Eastlake says that “Turner made his sketches in pencil and -by stealth,” that is to say, he did not like to have people looking over -his shoulder while he was at work. The sketch book Turner used on this -occasion is with the others in the National Gallery. But after the three -artists had returned to Plymouth, “in the neighbourhood of which he -(Turner) remained some weeks, Mr. Johns fitted up a small portable -painting-box, containing some prepared paper for oil sketches, as well -as the other necessary materials. When Turner halted at a scene and -seemed inclined to sketch it, Johns produced the inviting box, and the -great artist, finding everything ready to his hand, immediately began to -work. As he sometimes wanted assistance in the use of the box, the -presence of Johns was indispensable, and after a few days he made his -oil sketches freely in our presence. Johns accompanied him always; I was -only with them occasionally. Turner seemed pleased when the rapidity -with which those sketches were done was talked of; for, departing from -his habitual reserve in the instance of his pencil sketches, he made no -difficulty of showing them. On one occasion, when, on his return after a -sketching ramble to a country residence belonging to my father, near -Plympton, the day’s work was shown, he himself remarked that one of the -sketches (and perhaps the best) was done in less than half an hour.” “On -my enquiring afterwards,” Sir Charles Eastlake adds, “what had become of -those sketches, Turner replied that they were worthless, in consequence, -as he supposed, of some defect in the preparation of the paper; all the -grey tints, he observed, had nearly disappeared. Although I did not -implicitly rely on that statement, I do not remember to have seen any of -them afterwards.”</p> - -<p>There are about a dozen small oil sketches of Devonshire subjects in the -National Gallery, which are doubtless part of those made under the -circumstances described by Sir Charles Eastlake. They are made on a -brownish millboard, prepared with a thin coating of paint and size. On -the back of one of them there happens to be some lettering showing that -Johns had laid violent hands on the covers of some parts of William -Young Ottley’s “British Gallery of Pictures,” then being issued -serially. Several of these paintings have long been hung among the -exhibited drawings; <i>e.g.</i>, Nos. 746, 750, 754, 758, and one, No. 849, -which has somehow got the obviously incorrect title of <i>Bridge over -River Lugwy, Capel Curig</i>. These paintings have undoubtedly sunk very -much into the absorbent millboard, thus proving that Turner’s remark to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span> -Eastlake about the disappearance of the grey tints—which he “did not -implicitly rely on”—was justified. But otherwise the work is in good -condition, and I have very little doubt that when Mr. Buttery comes to -take them in hand, he will be able to bring them back to something like -their original freshness. The chief point of interest with regard to -them, from our present point of view, is the curious fact that Turner -does not seem to have made the slightest use of them in any of the -Devonshire pictures he painted on his return. He evidently found his -tiny little pencil sketches much more suggestive and adaptable to his -purposes. Even the large oil picture of <i>Crossing the Brook</i> is based -entirely on his slight and rapidly made little pencil notes. Another -point of interest is that even when painting in oil face to face with -nature he did not merely copy what he had in front of him. As our -illustration shows, these sketches are as carefully composed as his -pictures. They are indeed only technically sketches from nature; in -reality they are designs for pictures or pictures in miniature, though -they happen to have been painted out of doors. Even in working direct -from nature Turner remained firmly entrenched in his artistic position -as the master of nature. He still retained his power of selection, -taking what suited his purpose, ignoring the rest, and supplementing -from the stores of his own knowledge what for his purpose were the -defects of the momentary image before his eyes.</p> - -<p>The fact that Turner always worked in this way makes it exceedingly -difficult to separate his sketches from nature from the studies or -designs for his pictures. Throughout his sketch books and amongst his -loose drawings there are a large number of sketches in colour, and one’s -first impulse is to assume that these were made immediately from nature. -But careful observation shows that Turner was in the constant habit of -working over his pencil sketches in colour when away from the scenes he -had depicted. In this way the beautiful little sketch of “<i>Edinburgh -from St. Margaret’s Loch</i>,” here reproduced (<a href="#plt_VI">Plate VI.</a>), is much more -probably the draft of a picture the artist had in his mind’s eye than a -study from nature. But the point whether such a drawing was made “on the -spot” or not is relatively unimportant; what is more important is to -realise how very small a part the merely imitative or representative -study of the colour and tone (as opposed to form) of nature played in -Turner’s work. His colour is never merely descriptive. The whole bent of -his mind is so essentially pictorial that, whether he works face to face -with nature or from what is loosely called “memory,” his slightest -sketch as well as his most elaborate work is always an attempt to -express a subjective conception, and never a merely literal transcript -of what is given in sense-perception.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span></p> - -<p>Perhaps the most important group of drawings in the national collection -are those which Turner made during the last ten years of his working -life, <i>i.e.</i>, between 1835 and 1845. These drawings were not made for -sale or for exhibition, hence Mr. Ruskin’s description of them as -“delight drawings,” because they were done entirely for the artist’s own -pleasure and delight. Several of them are reproduced in this volume, -among them the beautiful sketch of “<i>Lucerne</i>” (<a href="#plt_XXI">Plate XXI.</a>) realized for -Mr. Ruskin in 1842, the almost equally fine “<i>Bellinzona, from the road -to Locarno</i>” (<a href="#plt_XXIV">Plate XXIV.</a>), and “<i>Zurich</i>” (<a href="#plt_XXVII">Plate XXVII.</a>).</p> - -<p>These inimitable and delightful sketches have been very widely admired, -as they deserve to be, but they have also been praised, somewhat -perversely as it seems to me, for their truth and accuracy of -representation. As Mr. Ruskin has pointed out, these sketches “are not, -strictly speaking, sketches from nature; but plans or designs of -pictures which Turner, if he had had time, would have made of each -place. They indicate, therefore, a perfectly formed conception of the -finished picture; and they are of exactly the same value as memoranda -would be, if made by Turner’s own hand, of pictures of his not in our -possession. They are just to be regarded as quick descriptions or -reminiscences of noble pictures.” Mr. Ruskin is also unquestionably -correct when he adds “that nothing but the pencilling in them was done -on the spot, and not always that. Turner used to walk about a town with -a roll of thin paper in his pocket, and make a few scratches upon a -sheet or two of it, which were so much shorthand indication of all he -wished to remember. When he got to his inn in the evening, he completed -the pencilling rapidly, and added as much colour as was needed to record -his plan of the picture” (“Ruskin on Pictures,” pp. 86-7).</p> - -<p>It is not my intention now to dwell upon the beauty of these -incomparable drawings, on their passionate intensity and emotional -sincerity, their nervous eloquence and elusive suggestiveness. The point -I wish to insist on at present is that they must not be regarded as -attempts to reproduce or imitate the merely superficial qualities of -physical nature, as attempts to give an accurate representation of -effects of air or light, or of the shapes and forms of mountain, water -or cloud. The artist is not immersed in the definite character of -physical objects. He seems to feel that as a spiritual and -self-conscious being he is something higher than the merely natural, and -it is as modes of expression of human freedom and self-consciousness -that these lyrical fragments must be regarded.</p> - -<p>The colour and tone of Turner’s work must therefore be taken as strictly -ideal, that is, as a medium of subjective expression, as a mode of -spiritual manifestation, and not as an attempt to represent<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span> the merely -abstract qualities of sense-perception. And what is true of Turner’s -colour and tone is also true of his form. I doubt if he ever made a -tolerably careful and elaborate drawing of a natural scene from the -beginning to the end of his long career—nearly all his elaborate -drawings being of architectural subjects. But instead of the prosaic and -plodding drawings that other artists make (see, for example, the -elaborate pencil studies of trees by Constable in the Victoria and -Albert Museum), we find hundreds and hundreds of nervous, eager pencil -sketches. When we come to study these ravishing sketches with care we -make the astonishing discovery that the bugbear of the drawing school, -the prosaic accumulation of particular physical facts known in art -academies as “nature,” is simply a hideous abstraction of the -theoretical mind. Nature, in this sense of the word, never existed for -Turner. The world he saw around him was replete with intelligence, was -permeated with spirit; where other artists see only the bare, unrelated -physical fact and sensuous surface, his mind is already busy with the -inner and invisible significance, and his cunning hand is instantly -shaping forth a pictorial embodiment of his own insight and passionate -convictions.</p> - -<p>On the whole, then, this was Turner’s consistent attitude towards -nature, though of course, in his earlier years, his sketches were -comparatively less swift and eloquent than they afterwards became. And -there was indeed a short period during which the merely physical fact -was forced into undue prominence. This period culminated in the first -visit to Italy in 1819-1820. Here the novelty of the scenery and -buildings stimulated the thirst for detailed observation which had been -gradually growing on Turner during the previous six or seven years. But -in England the very quickness and strength of his intuitions had always -prevented the desire for precise observation from gaining the upper -hand. In Italy his powers of intuition were useless. He was disoriented. -Everything disconcerted and thwarted him. His rapid glance no longer -penetrated to the inner essence of the scenes around him. He did not -understand the people and their ways, and their relation to their -surroundings. For a time he seemed to become less certain than usual of -his artistic mission. But he set to work with his usual pluck and energy -to assimilate his strange surroundings by tireless observation of the -outside. The result was a vast accumulation of disorganized or of only -partially organized impressions.</p> - -<p>It is conceded on all hands that Turner’s artistic work went all to -pieces as a result of his Italian experiences. The <i>Bay of Baiæ</i> -contains faults altogether new in his completed works. Even the feeblest -of his earlier works had been animated by some central idea or emotion, -to which all the parts were subordinated, and which<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span> infused into them -whatever of life or significance they possessed. In the <i>Bay of Baiæ</i> -the artist has an unusual quantity of material on his hands, but he can -neither find nor invent a pictorial idea to give coherence to his -disconnected observations. The picture is made up of bits of visual -experiences elaborately dovetailed into one another, but which -absolutely refuse to combine into any kind of conceptual unity.</p> - -<p>Yet if we confine our attention to the merely formal and abstract side -of art, there is assuredly much to move us even to enthusiastic -admiration among the immense quantity of sketches accumulated during -this Italian visit. The very fact that Turner’s inspiration was checked -prevented his sketches from possessing their wonted rudimentary or -forward-pointing character. Instead of being hasty drafts of the -pictures that thronged instantly into his mind upon contact with the -scenes of his native land, they became more like the drawings which less -completely equipped creative artists are in the habit of making; they -became “studies” in the modern use of the term. The conditions of their -production gave full play to Turner’s marvellous powers of -draughtsmanship and formal design. Before drawings like <i>Rome from Monte -Mario</i> who can help waxing enthusiastic over the exquisitely deft and -graceful play of hand, the subtle observation and the almost superhuman -mastery of the design? No wonder Mr. Ruskin has declared that “no -drawings in the world are to be named with these ... as lessons in -landscape drawing” (“Ruskin on Pictures,” p. 157). But before assenting -wholly to this dictum we must remember that, in spite of all their -attractiveness, Turner found these drawings worse than useless for his -general artistic purposes, and that only bad and foolish pictures came -from them; and the more carefully we study the matter the more clearly -do we see that nothing but bad and foolish pictures could come from work -in which the spirit of curiosity and of cold and accurate observation is -predominant.</p> - -<p>We have fixed our attention thus far upon the sketches and drawings made -from nature in the National Gallery collection, to the exclusion of the -finished water-colours. This may seem all the more inexcusable, as I -have preferred to treat these sketches rather with regard to their -bearing upon the artist’s finished work—as stages in the development of -the complete work of art—than as independent productions which can be -accepted entirely for their own sake. But in a short paper like the -present it is impossible to do justice to all the sides of such an -important collection as the Drawings of the Turner Bequest. Numerically, -the finished drawings form only a small fraction of the whole -collection—about two hundred out of a total of over 20,000 drawings. -Among them are about two-thirds of the “Rivers of France” drawings, and -most of the “Ports” and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span> “Rivers of England,” and Rogers’s “Vignettes.” -These drawings were engraved during Turner’s lifetime and under his -active superintendence; they are, therefore, amongst the best known of -his works. The whole of the finished drawings have, moreover, been -constantly on exhibition for more than fifty years. There remains, -therefore, little either of praise or blame to be said of them that has -not already been said many times. While, on the other hand, the studies -and sketches are only now on the point of being made accessible to the -public.</p> - -<p>The practically complete series of Turner’s sketches and studies from -nature seems to call for comprehensive treatment. Their careful study -throws a wholly new and unexpected light upon the fundamental and -essential qualities of Turner’s attitude towards nature, and therefore -upon the essential character and limitations of his art. Or where the -light is not altogether unexpected—as it would not be perhaps in the -case of a diligent and methodical student of Turner’s completed -works—the sketches amplify and illustrate in an abundant and forcible -way what before could only have been surmised. I propose, therefore, to -devote the remainder of my limited space to an attempt to indicate as -briefly as possible the main features of Turner’s conception of nature, -as it is revealed in his sketches, and to point out its importance both -for the proper understanding of his finished work and for its bearing -upon some adverse criticisms that have been brought against his work.</p> - -<p>In my opening remarks I ventured to contrast Turner’s attitude towards -nature with the attitude of the majority of contemporary artists. My -intention in thus opposing these two different methods of work was not -to suggest that one of them was either right or wrong in itself, or that -one way was necessarily better or worse than the other. My intention was -exactly the opposite. There is not one type of art production to which -all artists must conform, and two totally different methods of procedure -may each be positively right and equally valid. I will even go farther -than this and confess that I regard the present-day method of working -from nature as the only right and proper way of attaining the results -that are aimed at. But it is the result, the purpose of the artist, that -justifies the means, and this applies with just as much force to -Turner’s way of working as to the modern way. To condemn Turner’s -procedure, therefore, simply because it differs from that now in vogue, -would be as unwise and unfair as to condemn the modern way because it -differed from his. Different conceptions of the aim and scope of art -involve different attitudes towards nature, and necessitate different -methods of study.</p> - -<p>Let us begin with the current conception—the conception of the -landscape artist of to-day and of the public for which he works. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span> -aim of this art is what is called “naturalness,” that is, the picture -should be made to look as much like nature as possible. The standard of -excellence here is just the ordinary common appearance of physical -reality. A picture that looks like nature is good, and one that looks -“unnatural” is therefore bad. This kind of art is capable of giving a -great deal of innocent pleasure to people who like to be reminded of -scenes they love or are interested in. But it has its limits. It cannot -go beyond the bare physical world. And it is bound to treat even this -limited area of experience from a strictly limited point of view. It is -bound to take the physical world as something which exists in entire -independence of the spectator, as something which is indeed given in -sense-perception, but which the spectator emphatically finds and does -not make. Now so far as we take nature in this sense we have to do with -an external power which is utterly indifferent to our merely human aims -and purposes, and the artist can only look upon himself as a passive -recipient, a <i>tabula rasa</i>, on which external nature is reflected. This -is the standpoint of the prosaic intelligence, the level upon which much -of the ordinary reflection and discussion of the day moves.</p> - -<p>But man is not really a passive mirror in which a foreign nature is -reflected, nor is he satisfied merely to submit himself to natural -influences and vicissitudes. Man is never really satisfied to take the -world as he finds it, but sets to work to transform it into what he -feels it ought to be. The social and political world, with its realms of -morality, art and religion, came into existence as a protest against the -merely natural. In this world, created and sustained by human -intelligence and will, the physical world is not abolished or destroyed, -but it is transformed into a more or less willing accomplice of a -strange and higher power. It is in this new form which nature assumes -under the sway of intelligence and will that we find it in Turner’s -works.<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> In his presence the external world loses its stubborn -indifference to human aims and becomes saturated with purely human -aspiration and emotion. Its colours and shapes cease to belong to the -merely physical world. They become instead the garment in which the -inward spiritual nature of the artist robes itself. Nature in this new -aspect is no longer a merely hostile and mechanical system of laws; a -soul has been breathed into it which we recognize as identical with our -own.</p> - -<p>Now it is evident that these two kinds of art, the passive and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span> the -active, with their totally dissimilar aims, cannot and ought not to -represent nature in the same way. The art which uses nature as a medium -for the expression of ideas and feelings cannot attain its object by -representing physical objects in the simple and direct way appropriate -to the art which aims merely at naturalness. The artist’s intention must -make itself manifest even in the manner in which he represents physical -objects,—indeed, he has no other way of expressing his ideas. The -active or creative artist will therefore make it clear that he has -broken entirely with the disconnected, accidental and prosaic look of -everyday existence which it is the one aim of the passive artist to -retain.</p> - -<p>From this point of view the charges that are often brought against -Turner, that his colour is forced and unnatural, will leave us cold and -indifferent. To make such an objection is merely a proof of mental -confusion. The creative artist <i>must</i> break with the prosaic vision of -nature, if only to make it evident that his objects are not there for -their own sake and for their immediate effect, but to call forth a -response and echo in the mind of the observer. Turner’s colour—“dyed in -the ardours of the atmosphere”—is one of his most potent instruments of -expression, and must be judged as we judge, let us say, the verbal magic -of Shelley’s verse, as a work of free beauty, fashioned in response to -the deepest and truest cravings of man’s nature.</p> - -<p>That Turner’s art moves mainly among the highest interests of man’s -spiritual nature accounts to some extent for the pre-eminent position he -now occupies among modern artists. It is always as an artist conscious -of man’s high destiny that he claims to be judged, and though he often -stumbled and his hand faltered, he never once sank to the level of the -passive and prosaic imitator of nature’s finitude. This is not the place -to inquire minutely into Turner’s failings and shortcomings, nor to -study their connection with the innumerable masterpieces in which he -dared and sometimes attained the very highest of which art is capable. -An adequate discussion of the subtle inter-connection of Turner’s -triumphs and failings would involve the raising of questions of which -English criticism seems to prefer to remain in happy ignorance. I cannot -therefore attempt to justify my conviction that he is not only the -greatest artist our nation has yet produced, but also one of the -greatest of modern artists, a man we must rank with Rembrandt and Jean -François Millet. But this at least will be generally conceded, that he -fully deserves that consideration and sympathy, which the ready instinct -of mankind reserves for those who devote themselves without stint and -without measure to the highest and most difficult tasks.</p> - -<p class="r"> -A. J. FINBERG.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_I"> -<a href="images/plt_001.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_001.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate I</p> - -<p>THE ARCHBISHOP’S PALACE, LAMBETH</p> - -<p>FIRST EXHIBITED DRAWING. R.A. 1790. SIZE 15″ × 10½″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_II"> -<a href="images/plt_002.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_002.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate II</p> - -<p>THE MOUTH OF THE AVON.</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1792. SIZE 11¼″ × 8¾″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_III"> -<a href="images/plt_003.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_003.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate III</p> - -<p>PETERBOROUGH CATHEDRAL FROM THE NORTH</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1794. SIZE 7″ × 4¼″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_IV"> -<a href="images/plt_004.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_004.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate IV</p> - -<p>THE PENT, DOVER</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1794. SIZE 10¼″ × 8″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_V"> -<a href="images/plt_005.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_005.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate V</p> - -<p>DISTANT VIEW OF LICHFIELD CATHEDRAL</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1798. SIZE 30½″ × 19¾″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_VI"> -<a href="images/plt_006.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_006.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate VI</p> - -<p>EDINBURGH: FROM ST. MARGARET’S LOCH</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1801. SIZE 7¾″ × 5″</p> - -<p>IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_VII"> -<a href="images/plt_007.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_007.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate VII</p> - -<p>STONEHENGE: SUNSET</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1804. SIZE 8¾″ × 6¾″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_VIII"> -<a href="images/plt_008.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_008.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate VIII</p> - -<p>SCARBOROUGH</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1812. SIZE 16″ × 11″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF C. MORLAND AGNEW, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_IX"> -<a href="images/plt_009.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_009.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate IX</p> - -<p>LULWORTH COVE</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1813. SIZE 8½″ × 5¾″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_X"> -<a href="images/plt_010.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_010.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate X</p> - -<p>GOARHAUSEN AND KATZ CASTLE</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1817. SIZE 12″ × 7¾″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XI"> -<a href="images/plt_011.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_011.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XI</p> - -<p>THE LAKE OF NEMI</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1818. Size 8½″ × 5½″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF C. MORLAND AGNEW, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XII"> -<a href="images/plt_012.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_012.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XII</p> - -<p>TURIN: FROM THE CHURCH OF THE SUPERGA</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1818. SIZE 8½″ × 5½″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF C. MORLAND AGNEW, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XIII"> -<a href="images/plt_013.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_013.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XIII</p> - -<p>THE CROOK OF THE LUNE</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1818. SIZE 16¾″ × 11¼″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF REV. WILLIAM MACGREGOR</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XIV"> -<a href="images/plt_014.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_014.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XIV</p> - -<p>NORHAM CASTLE</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1822. SIZE 8½″ × 6½″</p> - -<p>IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 175</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XV"> -<a href="images/plt_015.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_015.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XV</p> - -<p>LAUNCESTON</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1827. SIZE 15½″ × 11″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF J. F. SCHWANN, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XVI"> -<a href="images/plt_016.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_016.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XVI</p> - -<p>BARNARD CASTLE</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1827. Size 8⅞″ × 6½″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XVII"> -<a href="images/plt_017.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_017.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XVII</p> - -<p>ON THE LAKE AT PETWORTH—EVENING</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1830. SIZE 7½″ × 5¼″</p> - -<p>IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 425d</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XVIII"> -<a href="images/plt_018.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_018.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XVIII</p> - -<p>COWES</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1830. SIZE 16½″ × 11¼″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. YATES, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XIX"> -<a href="images/plt_019.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_019.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XIX</p> - -<p>VENICE: THE SALUTE FROM S. GIORGIO MAGGIORE</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1839. SIZE 12″ × 9½″</p> - -<p>IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 54</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XX"> -<a href="images/plt_020.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_020.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XX</p> - -<p>VENICE: CASA GRIMANI AND THE RIALTO</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1839. SIZE 11″ × 7½″</p> - -<p>IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 354</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XXI"> -<a href="images/plt_021.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_021.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XXI</p> - -<p>LUCERNE</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1840-41. SIZE 12⅛″ × 9<sup>3</sup>/<sub>16</sub>″</p> - -<p>IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 288</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XXII"> -<a href="images/plt_022.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_022.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XXII</p> - -<p>A SWISS LAKE</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1840-41. SIZE 11⅜″ × 9″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF SIR HICKMAN BACON, BART.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XXIII"> -<a href="images/plt_023.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_023.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XXIII</p> - -<p>BELLINZONA: FROM THE SOUTH</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1840-41. Size 12⅞″ × 8⅞″</p> - -<p>IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 764</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XXIV"> -<a href="images/plt_024.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_024.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XXIV</p> - -<p>BELLINZONA: FROM THE ROAD TO LOCARNO</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1840-41. SIZE 11½″ × 9″</p> - -<p>IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 84</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XXV"> -<a href="images/plt_025.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_025.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XXV</p> - -<p>LAUSANNE: FROM LE SIGNAL</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1842-43. SIZE 13″ × 9″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XXVI"> -<a href="images/plt_026.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_026.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XXVI</p> - -<p>LAUSANNE</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1842-43. SIZE 14½″ × 9<sup>13</sup>/<sub>16</sub>″</p> - -<p>IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 824</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XXVII"> -<a href="images/plt_027.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_027.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XXVII</p> - -<p>ZURICH</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1840-44. SIZE 12½″ × 9<sup>3</sup>/<sub>16</sub>″</p> - -<p>IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. No. 287</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XXVIII"> -<a href="images/plt_028.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_028.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XXVIII</p> - -<p>THE SEELISBERG: MOONLIGHT</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1842-43. SIZE 11″ × 9″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XXIX"> -<a href="images/plt_029.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_029.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XXIX</p> - -<p>SCHAFFHAUSEN: THE TOWN</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1843-45. SIZE 18½″ × 13½″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF R. BROCKLEBANK, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="plt_XXX"> -<a href="images/plt_030.jpg"> -<img src="images/plt_030.jpg" -width="600" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a><div class="caption"><p>Plate XXX</p> - -<p>TELL’S CHAPEL, FLUELEN</p> - -<p>CIRCA 1845. SIZE 11⅝″ × 9″</p> - -<p>FROM THE COLLECTION OF W. G. RAWLINSON, ESQ.</p></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span></p> - -<div class="footnotes"><p class="cb">FOOTNOTES:</p> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> “Biographies of the Great Artists—J. M. W. Turner, R.A.,” -Sampson Low, 1897, p. 27. Of the many biographies of Turner, this, -although slight, gives probably the best and truest view of him and his -work.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Turner’s conception of nature, I may remark, is identical -with that of Sir Joshua Reynolds, who says: “My notion of nature -comprehends not only the forms which nature produces, but also the -nature and internal fabric and organisation ... of the human mind and -imagination.” (Seventh Discourse.)</p></div> - -</div> -<hr class="full" /> -<pre style='margin-top:6em'> -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WATER-COLOURS OF J. M. W. -TURNER *** - -This file should be named 63798-h.htm or 63798-h.zip - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/7/9/63798/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - -</pre> -</body> -</html> - diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9c0e466..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_001.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_001.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f9a7445..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_001.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_002.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_002.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d21c43b..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_002.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_003.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_003.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index aaf0d0c..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_003.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_004.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_004.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e0a522d..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_004.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_005.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_005.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d427022..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_005.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_006.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_006.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8d9cc07..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_006.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_007.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_007.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f91fe05..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_007.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_008.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_008.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 424eaf9..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_008.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_009.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_009.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7a4c1da..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_009.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_010.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_010.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 16d0348..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_010.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_011.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_011.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 57c0d0a..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_011.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_012.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_012.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 62704de..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_012.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_013.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_013.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 45fc2b9..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_013.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_014.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_014.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7b799dc..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_014.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_015.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_015.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 18233af..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_015.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_016.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_016.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7b8b43a..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_016.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_017.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_017.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0aecf06..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_017.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_018.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_018.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d2b1918..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_018.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_019.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_019.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 45cc331..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_019.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_020.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_020.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ee64afd..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_020.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_021.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_021.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 262e269..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_021.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_022.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_022.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d4fcea6..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_022.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_023.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_023.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2464c6d..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_023.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_024.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_024.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 11bd9a6..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_024.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_025.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_025.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2547f78..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_025.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_026.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_026.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2af582d..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_026.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_027.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_027.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index df4d397..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_027.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_028.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_028.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index dd5046a..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_028.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_029.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_029.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9900eee..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_029.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63798-h/images/plt_030.jpg b/old/63798-h/images/plt_030.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 08d5dd8..0000000 --- a/old/63798-h/images/plt_030.jpg +++ /dev/null |
