summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/old/8pics10h.htm
blob: a428dcc587aa73227a98559fda6db42461145389 (plain) 
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014
1015
1016
1017
1018
1019
1020
1021
1022
1023
1024
1025
1026
1027
1028
1029
1030
1031
1032
1033
1034
1035
1036
1037
1038
1039
1040
1041
1042
1043
1044
1045
1046
1047
1048
1049
1050
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057
1058
1059
1060
1061
1062
1063
1064
1065
1066
1067
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077
1078
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092
1093
1094
1095
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100
1101
1102
1103
1104
1105
1106
1107
1108
1109
1110
1111
1112
1113
1114
1115
1116
1117
1118
1119
1120
1121
1122
1123
1124
1125
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159
1160
1161
1162
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187
1188
1189
1190
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198
1199
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215
1216
1217
1218
1219
1220
1221
1222
1223
1224
1225
1226
1227
1228
1229
1230
1231
1232
1233
1234
1235
1236
1237
1238
1239
1240
1241
1242
1243
1244
1245
1246
1247
1248
1249
1250
1251
1252
1253
1254
1255
1256
1257
1258
1259
1260
1261
1262
1263
1264
1265
1266
1267
1268
1269
1270
1271
1272
1273
1274
1275
1276
1277
1278
1279
1280
1281
1282
1283
1284
1285
1286
1287
1288
1289
1290
1291
1292
1293
1294
1295
1296
1297
1298
1299
1300
1301
1302
1303
1304
1305
1306
1307
1308
1309
1310
1311
1312
1313
1314
1315
1316
1317
1318
1319
1320
1321
1322
1323
1324
1325
1326
1327
1328
1329
1330
1331
1332
1333
1334
1335
1336
1337
1338
1339
1340
1341
1342
1343
1344
1345
1346
1347
1348
1349
1350
1351
1352
1353
1354
1355
1356
1357
1358
1359
1360
1361
1362
1363
1364
1365
1366
1367
1368
1369
1370
1371
1372
1373
1374
1375
1376
1377
1378
1379
1380
1381
1382
1383
1384
1385
1386
1387
1388
1389
1390
1391
1392
1393
1394
1395
1396
1397
1398
1399
1400
1401
1402
1403
1404
1405
1406
1407
1408
1409
1410
1411
1412
1413
1414
1415
1416
1417
1418
1419
1420
1421
1422
1423
1424
1425
1426
1427
1428
1429
1430
1431
1432
1433
1434
1435
1436
1437
1438
1439
1440
1441
1442
1443
1444
1445
1446
1447
1448
1449
1450
1451
1452
1453
1454
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459
1460
1461
1462
1463
1464
1465
1466
1467
1468
1469
1470
1471
1472
1473
1474
1475
1476
1477
1478
1479
1480
1481
1482
1483
1484
1485
1486
1487
1488
1489
1490
1491
1492
1493
1494
1495
1496
1497
1498
1499
1500
1501
1502
1503
1504
1505
1506
1507
1508
1509
1510
1511
1512
1513
1514
1515
1516
1517
1518
1519
1520
1521
1522
1523
1524
1525
1526
1527
1528
1529
1530
1531
1532
1533
1534
1535
1536
1537
1538
1539
1540
1541
1542
1543
1544
1545
1546
1547
1548
1549
1550
1551
1552
1553
1554
1555
1556
1557
1558
1559
1560
1561
1562
1563
1564
1565
1566
1567
1568
1569
1570
1571
1572
1573
1574
1575
1576
1577
1578
1579
1580
1581
1582
1583
1584
1585
1586
1587
1588
1589
1590
1591
1592
1593
1594
1595
1596
1597
1598
1599
1600
1601
1602
1603
1604
1605
1606
1607
1608
1609
1610
1611
1612
1613
1614
1615
1616
1617
1618
1619
1620
1621
1622
1623
1624
1625
1626
1627
1628
1629
1630
1631
1632
1633
1634
1635
1636
1637
1638
1639
1640
1641
1642
1643
1644
1645
1646
1647
1648
1649
1650
1651
1652
1653
1654
1655
1656
1657
1658
1659
1660
1661
1662
1663
1664
1665
1666
1667
1668
1669
1670
1671
1672
1673
1674
1675
1676
1677
1678
1679
1680
1681
1682
1683
1684
1685
1686
1687
1688
1689
1690
1691
1692
1693
1694
1695
1696
1697
1698
1699
1700
1701
1702
1703
1704
1705
1706
1707
1708
1709
1710
1711
1712
1713
1714
1715
1716
1717
1718
1719
1720
1721
1722
1723
1724
1725
1726
1727
1728
1729
1730
1731
1732
1733
1734
1735
1736
1737
1738
1739
1740
1741
1742
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752
1753
1754
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
1765
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
1837
1838
1839
1840
1841
1842
1843
1844
1845
1846
1847
1848
1849
1850
1851
1852
1853
1854
1855
1856
1857
1858
1859
1860
1861
1862
1863
1864
1865
1866
1867
1868
1869
1870
1871
1872
1873
1874
1875
1876
1877
1878
1879
1880
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888
1889
1890
1891
1892
1893
1894
1895
1896
1897
1898
1899
1900
1901
1902
1903
1904
1905
1906
1907
1908
1909
1910
1911
1912
1913
1914
1915
1916
1917
1918
1919
1920
1921
1922
1923
1924
1925
1926
1927
1928
1929
1930
1931
1932
1933
1934
1935
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1954
1955
1956
1957
1958
1959
1960
1961
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
1970
1971
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1977
1978
1979
1980
1981
1982
1983
1984
1985
1986
1987
1988
1989
1990
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2000
2001
2002
2003
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
2025
2026
2027
2028
2029
2030
2031
2032
2033
2034
2035
2036
2037
2038
2039
2040
2041
2042
2043
2044
2045
2046
2047
2048
2049
2050
2051
2052
2053
2054
2055
2056
2057
2058
2059
2060
2061
2062
2063
2064
2065
2066
2067
2068
2069
2070
2071
2072
2073
2074
2075
2076
2077
2078
2079
2080
2081
2082
2083
2084
2085
2086
2087
2088
2089
2090
2091
2092
2093
2094
2095
2096
2097
2098
2099
2100
2101
2102
2103
2104
2105
2106
2107
2108
2109
2110
2111
2112
2113
2114
2115
2116
2117
2118
2119
2120
2121
2122
2123
2124
2125
2126
2127
2128
2129
2130
2131
2132
2133
2134
2135
2136
2137
2138
2139
2140
2141
2142
2143
2144
2145
2146
2147
2148
2149
2150
2151
2152
2153
2154
2155
2156
2157
2158
2159
2160
2161
2162
2163
2164
2165
2166
2167
2168
2169
2170
2171
2172
2173
2174
2175
2176
2177
2178
2179
2180
2181
2182
2183
2184
2185
2186
2187
2188
2189
2190
2191
2192
2193
2194
2195
2196
2197
2198
2199
2200
2201
2202
2203
2204
2205
2206
2207
2208
2209
2210
2211
2212
2213
2214
2215
2216
2217
2218
2219
2220
2221
2222
2223
2224
2225
2226
2227
2228
2229
2230
2231
2232
2233
2234
2235
2236
2237
2238
2239
2240
2241
2242
2243
2244
2245
2246
2247
2248
2249
2250
2251
2252
2253
2254
2255
2256
2257
2258
2259
2260
2261
2262
2263
2264
2265
2266
2267
2268
2269
2270
2271
2272
2273
2274
2275
2276
2277
2278
2279
2280
2281
2282
2283
2284
2285
2286
2287
2288
2289
2290
2291
2292
2293
2294
2295
2296
2297
2298
2299
2300
2301
2302
2303
2304
2305
2306
2307
2308
2309
2310
2311
2312
2313
2314
2315
2316
2317
2318
2319
2320
2321
2322
2323
2324
2325
2326
2327
2328
2329
2330
2331
2332
2333
2334
2335
2336
2337
2338
2339
2340
2341
2342
2343
2344
2345
2346
2347
2348
2349
2350
2351
2352
2353
2354
2355
2356
2357
2358
2359
2360
2361
2362
2363
2364
2365
2366
2367
2368
2369
2370
2371
2372
2373
2374
2375
2376
2377
2378
2379
2380
2381
2382
2383
2384
2385
2386
2387
2388
2389
2390
2391
2392
2393
2394
2395
2396
2397
2398
2399
2400
2401
2402
2403
2404
2405
2406
2407
2408
2409
2410
2411
2412
2413
2414
2415
2416
2417
2418
2419
2420
2421
2422
2423
2424
2425
2426
2427
2428
2429
2430
2431
2432
2433
2434
2435
2436
2437
2438
2439
2440
2441
2442
2443
2444
2445
2446
2447
2448
2449
2450
2451
2452
2453
2454
2455
2456
2457
2458
2459
2460
2461
2462
2463
2464
2465
2466
2467
2468
2469
2470
2471
2472
2473
2474
2475
2476
2477
2478
2479
2480
2481
2482
2483
2484
2485
2486
2487
2488
2489
2490
2491
2492
2493
2494
2495
2496
2497
2498
2499
2500
2501
2502
2503
2504
2505
2506
2507
2508
2509
2510
2511
2512
2513
2514
2515
2516
2517
2518
2519
2520
2521
2522
2523
2524
2525
2526
2527
2528
2529
2530
2531
2532
2533
2534
2535
2536
2537
2538
2539
2540
2541
2542
2543
2544
2545
2546
2547
2548
2549
2550
2551
2552
2553
2554
2555
2556
2557
2558
2559
2560
2561
2562
2563
2564
2565
2566
2567
2568
2569
2570
2571
2572
2573
2574
2575
2576
2577
2578
2579
2580
2581
2582
2583
2584
2585
2586
2587
2588
2589
2590
2591
2592
2593
2594
2595
2596
2597
2598
2599
2600
2601
2602
2603
2604
2605
2606
2607
2608
2609
2610
2611
2612
2613
2614
2615
2616
2617
2618
2619
2620
2621
2622
2623
2624
2625
2626
2627
2628
2629
2630
2631
2632
2633
2634
2635
2636
2637
2638
2639
2640
2641
2642
2643
2644
2645
2646
2647
2648
2649
2650
2651
2652
2653
2654
2655
2656
2657
2658
2659
2660
2661
2662
2663
2664
2665
2666
2667
2668
2669
2670
2671
2672
2673
2674
2675
2676
2677
2678
2679
2680
2681
2682
2683
2684
2685
2686
2687
2688
2689
2690
2691
2692
2693
2694
2695
2696
2697
2698
2699
2700
2701
2702
2703
2704
2705
2706
2707
2708
2709
2710
2711
2712
2713
2714
2715
2716
2717
2718
2719
2720
2721
2722
2723
2724
2725
2726
2727
2728
2729
2730
2731
2732
2733
2734
2735
2736
2737
2738
2739
2740
2741
2742
2743
2744
2745
2746
2747
2748
2749
2750
2751
2752
2753
2754
2755
2756
2757
2758
2759
2760
2761
2762
2763
2764
2765
2766
2767
2768
2769
2770
2771
2772
2773
2774
2775
2776
2777
2778
2779
2780
2781
2782
2783
2784
2785
2786
2787
2788
2789
2790
2791
2792
2793
2794
2795
2796
2797
2798
2799
2800
2801
2802
2803
2804
2805
2806
2807
2808
2809
2810
2811
2812
2813
2814
2815
2816
2817
2818
2819
2820
2821
2822
2823
2824
2825
2826
2827
2828
2829
2830
2831
2832
2833
2834
2835
2836
2837
2838
2839
2840
2841
2842
2843
2844
2845
2846
2847
2848
2849
2850
2851
2852
2853
2854
2855
2856
2857
2858
2859
2860
2861
2862
2863
2864
2865
2866
2867
2868
2869
2870
2871
2872
2873
2874
2875
2876
2877
2878
2879
2880
2881
2882
2883
2884
2885
2886
2887
2888
2889
2890
2891
2892
2893
2894
2895
2896
2897
2898
2899
2900
2901
2902
2903
2904
2905
2906
2907
2908
2909
2910
2911
2912
2913
2914
2915
2916
2917
2918
2919
2920
2921
2922
2923
2924
2925
2926
2927
2928
2929
2930
2931
2932
2933
2934
2935
2936
2937
2938
2939
2940
2941
2942
2943
2944
2945
2946
2947
2948
2949
2950
2951
2952
2953
2954
2955
2956
2957
2958
2959
2960
2961
2962
2963
2964
2965
2966
2967
2968
2969
2970
2971
2972
2973
2974
2975
2976
2977
2978
2979
2980
2981
2982
2983
2984
2985
2986
2987
2988
2989
2990
2991
2992
2993
2994
2995
2996
2997
2998
2999
3000
3001
3002
3003
3004
3005
3006
3007
3008
3009
3010
3011
3012
3013
3014
3015
3016
3017
3018
3019
3020
3021
3022
3023
3024
3025
3026
3027
3028
3029
3030
3031
3032
3033
3034
3035
3036
3037
3038
3039
3040
3041
3042
3043
3044
3045
3046
3047
3048
3049
3050
3051
3052
3053
3054
3055
3056
3057
3058
3059
3060
3061
3062
3063
3064
3065
3066
3067
3068
3069
3070
3071
3072
3073
3074
3075
3076
3077
3078
3079
3080
3081
3082
3083
3084
3085
3086
3087
3088
3089
3090
3091
3092
3093
3094
3095
3096
3097
3098
3099
3100
3101
3102
3103
3104
3105
3106
3107
3108
3109
3110
3111
3112
3113
3114
3115
3116
3117
3118
3119
3120
3121
3122
3123
3124
3125
3126
3127
3128
3129
3130
3131
3132
3133
3134
3135
3136
3137
3138
3139
3140
3141
3142
3143
3144
3145
3146
3147
3148
3149
3150
3151
3152
3153
3154
3155
3156
3157
3158
3159
3160
3161
3162
3163
3164
3165
3166
3167
3168
3169
3170
3171
3172
3173
3174
3175
3176
3177
3178
3179
3180
3181
3182
3183
3184
3185
3186
3187
3188
3189
3190
3191
3192
3193
3194
3195
3196
3197
3198
3199
3200
3201
3202
3203
3204
3205
3206
3207
3208
3209
3210
3211
3212
3213
3214
3215
3216
3217
3218
3219
3220
3221
3222
3223
3224
3225
3226
3227
3228
3229
3230
3231
3232
3233
3234
3235
3236
3237
3238
3239
3240
3241
3242
3243
3244
3245
3246
3247
3248
3249
3250
3251
3252
3253
3254
3255
3256
3257
3258
3259
3260
3261
3262
3263
3264
3265
3266
3267
3268
3269
3270
3271
3272
3273
3274
3275
3276
3277
3278
3279
3280
3281
3282
3283
3284
3285
3286
3287
3288
3289
3290
3291
3292
3293
3294
3295
3296
3297
3298
3299
3300
3301
3302
3303
3304
3305
3306
3307
3308
3309
3310
3311
3312
3313
3314
3315
3316
3317
3318
3319
3320
3321
3322
3323
3324
3325
3326
3327
3328
3329
3330
3331
3332
3333
3334
3335
3336
3337
3338
3339
3340
3341
3342
3343
3344
3345
3346
3347
3348
3349
3350
3351
3352
3353
3354
3355
3356
3357
3358
3359
3360
3361
3362
3363
3364
3365
3366
3367
3368
3369
3370
3371
3372
3373
3374
3375
3376
3377
3378
3379
3380
3381
3382
3383
3384
3385
3386
3387
3388
3389
3390
3391
3392
3393
3394
3395
3396
3397
3398
3399
3400
3401
3402
3403
3404
3405
3406
3407
3408
3409
3410
3411
3412
3413
3414
3415
3416
3417
3418
3419
3420
3421
3422
3423
3424
3425
3426
3427
3428
3429
3430
3431
3432
3433
3434
3435
3436
3437
3438
3439
3440
3441
3442
3443
3444
3445
3446
3447
3448
3449
3450
3451
3452
3453
3454
3455
3456
3457
3458
3459
3460
3461
3462
3463
3464
3465
3466
3467
3468
3469
3470
3471
3472
3473
3474
3475
3476
3477
3478
3479
3480
3481
3482
3483
3484
3485
3486
3487
3488
3489
3490
3491
3492
3493
3494
3495
3496
3497
3498
3499
3500
3501
3502
3503
3504
3505
3506
3507
3508
3509
3510
3511
3512
3513
3514
3515
3516
3517
3518
3519
3520
3521
3522
3523
3524
3525
3526
3527
3528
3529
3530
3531
3532
3533
3534
3535
3536
3537
3538
3539
3540
3541
3542
3543
3544
3545
3546
3547
3548
3549
3550
3551
3552
3553
3554
3555
3556
3557
3558
3559
3560
3561
3562
3563
3564
3565
3566
3567
3568
3569
3570
3571
3572
3573
3574
3575
3576
3577
3578
3579
3580
3581
3582
3583
3584
3585
3586
3587
3588
3589
3590
3591
3592
3593
3594
3595
3596
3597
3598
3599
3600
3601
3602
3603
3604
3605
3606
3607
3608
3609
3610
3611
3612
3613
3614
3615
3616
3617
3618
3619
3620
3621
3622
3623
3624
3625
3626
3627
3628
3629
3630
3631
3632
3633
3634
3635
3636
3637
3638
3639
3640
3641
3642
3643
3644
3645
3646
3647
3648
3649
3650
3651
3652
3653
3654
3655
3656
3657
3658
3659
3660
3661
3662
3663
3664
3665
3666
3667
3668
3669
3670
3671
3672
3673
3674
3675
3676
3677
3678
3679
3680
3681
3682
3683
3684
3685
3686
3687
3688
3689
3690
3691
3692
3693
3694
3695
3696
3697
3698
3699
3700
3701
3702
3703
3704
3705
3706
3707
3708
3709
3710
3711
3712
3713
3714
3715
3716
3717
3718
3719
3720
3721
3722
3723
3724
3725
3726
3727
3728
3729
3730
3731
3732
3733
3734
3735
3736
3737
3738
3739
3740
3741
3742
3743
3744
3745
3746
3747
3748
3749
3750
3751
3752
3753
3754
3755
3756
3757
3758
3759
3760
3761
3762
3763
3764
3765
3766
3767
3768
3769
3770
3771
3772
3773
3774
3775
3776
3777
3778
3779
3780
3781
3782
3783
3784
3785
3786
3787
3788
3789
3790
3791
3792
3793
3794
3795
3796
3797
3798
3799
3800
3801
3802
3803
3804
3805
3806
3807
3808
3809
3810
3811
3812
3813
3814
3815
3816
3817
3818
3819
3820
3821
3822
3823
3824
3825
3826
3827
3828
3829
3830
3831
3832
3833
3834
3835
3836
3837
3838
3839
3840
3841
3842
3843
3844
3845
3846
3847
3848
3849
3850
3851
3852
3853
3854
3855
3856
3857
3858
3859
3860
3861
3862
3863
3864
3865
3866
3867
3868
3869
3870
3871
3872
3873
3874
3875
3876
3877
3878
3879
3880
3881
3882
3883
3884
3885
3886
3887
3888
3889
3890
3891
3892
3893
3894
3895
3896
3897
3898
3899
3900
3901
3902
3903
3904
3905
3906
3907
3908
3909
3910
3911
3912
3913
3914
3915
3916
3917
3918
3919
3920
3921
3922
3923
3924
3925
3926
3927
3928
3929
3930
3931
3932
3933
3934
3935
3936
3937
3938
3939
3940
3941
3942
3943
3944
3945
3946
3947
3948
3949
3950
3951
3952
3953
3954
3955
3956
3957
3958
3959
3960
3961
3962
3963
3964
3965
3966
3967
3968
3969
3970
3971
3972
3973
3974
3975
3976
3977
3978
3979
3980
3981
3982
3983
3984
3985
3986
3987
3988
3989
3990
3991
3992
3993
3994
3995
3996
3997
3998
3999
4000
4001
4002
4003
4004
4005
4006
4007
4008
4009
4010
4011
4012
4013
4014
4015
4016
4017
4018
4019
4020
4021
4022
4023
4024
4025
4026
4027
4028
4029
4030
4031
4032
4033
4034
4035
4036
4037
4038
4039
4040
4041
4042
4043
4044
4045
4046
4047
4048
4049
4050
4051
4052
4053
4054
4055
4056
4057
4058
4059
4060
4061
4062
4063
4064
4065
4066
4067
4068
4069
4070
4071
4072
4073
4074
4075
4076
4077
4078
4079
4080
4081
4082
4083
4084
4085
4086
4087
4088
4089
4090
4091
4092
4093
4094
4095
4096
4097
4098
4099
4100
4101
4102
4103
4104
4105
4106
4107
4108
4109
4110
4111
4112
4113
4114
4115
4116
4117
4118
4119
4120
4121
4122
4123
4124
4125
4126
4127
4128
4129
4130
4131
4132
4133
4134
4135
4136
4137
4138
4139
4140
4141
4142
4143
4144
4145
4146
4147
4148
4149
4150
4151
4152
4153
4154
4155
4156
4157
4158
4159
4160
4161
4162
4163
4164
4165
4166
4167
4168
4169
4170
4171
4172
4173
4174
4175
4176
4177
4178
4179
4180
4181
4182
4183
4184
4185
4186
4187
4188
4189
4190
4191
4192
4193
4194
4195
4196
4197
4198
4199
4200
4201
4202
4203
4204
4205
4206
4207
4208
4209
4210
4211
4212
4213
4214
4215
4216
4217
4218
4219
4220
4221
4222
4223
4224
4225
4226
4227
4228
4229
4230
4231
4232
4233
4234
4235
4236
4237
4238
4239
4240
4241
4242
4243
4244
4245
4246
4247
4248
4249
4250
4251
4252
4253
4254
4255
4256
4257
4258
4259
4260
4261
4262
4263
4264
4265
4266
4267
4268
4269
4270
4271
4272
4273
4274
4275
4276
4277
4278
4279
4280
4281
4282
4283
4284
4285
4286
4287
4288
4289
4290
4291
4292
4293
4294
4295
4296
4297
4298
4299
4300
4301
4302
4303
4304
4305
4306
4307
4308
4309
4310
4311
4312
4313
4314
4315
4316
4317
4318
4319
4320
4321
4322
4323
4324
4325
4326
4327
4328
4329
4330
4331
4332
4333
4334
4335
4336
4337
4338
4339
4340
4341
4342
4343
4344
4345
4346
4347
4348
4349
4350
4351
4352
4353
4354
4355
4356
4357
4358
4359
4360
4361
4362
4363
4364
4365
4366
4367
4368
4369
4370
4371
4372
4373
4374
4375
4376
4377
4378
4379
4380
4381
4382
4383
4384
4385
4386
4387
4388
4389
4390
4391
4392
4393
4394
4395
4396
4397
4398
4399
4400
4401
4402
4403
4404
4405
4406
4407
4408
4409
4410
4411
4412
4413
4414
4415
4416
4417
4418
4419
4420
4421
4422
4423
4424
4425
4426
4427
4428
4429
4430
4431
4432
4433
4434
4435
4436
4437
4438
4439
4440
4441
4442
4443
4444
4445
4446
4447
4448
4449
4450
4451
4452
4453
4454
4455
4456
4457
4458
4459
4460
4461
4462
4463
4464
4465
4466
4467
4468
4469
4470
4471
4472
4473
4474
4475
4476
4477
4478
4479
4480
4481
4482
4483
4484
4485
4486
4487
4488
4489
4490
4491
4492
4493
4494
4495
4496
4497
4498
4499
4500
4501
4502
4503
4504
4505
4506
4507
4508
4509
4510
4511
4512
4513
4514
4515
4516
4517
4518
4519
4520
4521
4522
4523
4524
4525
4526
4527
4528
4529
4530
4531
4532
4533
4534
4535
4536
4537
4538
4539
4540
4541
4542
4543
4544
4545
4546
4547
4548
4549
4550
4551
4552
4553
4554
4555
4556
4557
4558
4559
4560
4561
4562
4563
4564
4565
4566
4567
4568
4569
4570
4571
4572
4573
4574
4575
4576
4577
4578
4579
4580
4581
4582
4583
4584
4585
4586
4587
4588
4589
4590
4591
4592
4593
4594
4595
4596
4597
4598
4599
4600
4601
4602
4603
4604
4605
4606
4607
4608
4609
4610
4611
4612
4613
4614
4615
4616
4617
4618
4619
4620
4621
4622
4623
4624
4625
4626
4627
4628
4629
4630
4631
4632
4633
4634
4635
4636
4637
4638
4639
4640
4641
4642
4643
4644
4645
4646
4647
4648
4649
4650
4651
4652
4653
4654
4655
4656
4657
4658
4659
4660
4661
4662
4663
4664
4665
4666
4667
4668
4669
4670
4671
4672
4673
4674
4675
4676
4677
4678
4679
4680
4681
4682
4683
4684
4685
4686
4687
4688
4689
4690
4691
4692
4693
4694
4695
4696
4697
4698
4699
4700
4701
4702
4703
4704
4705
4706
4707
4708
4709
4710
4711
4712
4713
4714
4715
4716
4717
4718
4719
4720
4721
4722
4723
4724
4725
4726
4727
4728
4729
4730
4731
4732
4733
4734
4735
4736
4737
4738
4739
4740
4741
4742
4743
4744
4745
4746
4747
4748
4749
4750
4751
4752
4753
4754
4755
4756
4757
4758
4759
4760
4761
4762
4763
4764
4765
4766
4767
4768
4769
4770
4771
4772
4773
4774
4775
4776
4777
4778
4779
4780
4781
4782
4783
4784
4785
4786
4787
4788
4789
4790
4791
4792
4793
4794
4795
4796
4797
4798
4799
4800
4801
4802
4803
4804
4805
4806
4807
4808
4809
4810
4811
4812
4813
4814
4815
4816
4817
4818
4819
4820
4821
4822
4823
4824
4825
4826
4827
4828
4829
4830
4831
4832
4833
4834
4835
4836
4837
4838
4839
4840
4841
4842
4843
4844
4845
4846
4847
4848
4849
4850
4851
4852
4853
4854
4855
4856
4857
4858
4859
4860
4861
4862
4863
4864
4865
4866
4867
4868
4869
4870
4871
4872
4873
4874
4875
4876
4877
4878
4879
4880
4881
4882
4883
4884
4885
4886
4887
4888
4889
4890
4891
4892
4893
4894
4895
4896
4897
4898
4899
4900
4901
4902
4903
4904
4905
4906
4907
4908
4909
4910
4911
4912
4913
4914
4915
4916
4917
4918
4919
4920
4921
4922
4923
4924
4925
4926
4927
4928
4929
4930
4931
4932
4933
4934
4935
4936
4937
4938
4939
4940
4941
4942
4943
4944
4945
4946
4947
4948
4949
4950
4951
4952
4953
4954
4955
4956
4957
4958
4959
4960
4961
4962
4963
4964
4965
4966
4967
4968
4969
4970
4971
4972
4973
4974
4975
4976
4977
4978
4979
4980
4981
4982
4983
4984
4985
4986
4987
4988
4989
4990
4991
4992
4993
4994
4995
4996
4997
4998
4999
5000
5001
5002
5003
5004
5005
5006
5007
5008
5009
5010
5011
5012
5013
5014
5015
5016
5017
5018
5019
5020
5021
5022
5023
5024
5025
5026
5027
5028
5029
5030
5031
5032
5033
5034
5035
5036
5037
5038
5039
5040
5041
5042
5043
5044
5045
5046
5047
5048
5049
5050
5051
5052
5053
5054
5055
5056
5057
5058
5059
5060
5061
5062
5063
5064
5065
5066
5067
5068
5069
5070
5071
5072
5073
5074
5075
5076
5077
5078
5079
5080
5081
5082
5083
5084
5085
5086
5087
5088
5089
5090
5091
5092
5093
5094
5095
5096
5097
5098
5099
5100
5101
5102
5103
5104
5105
5106
5107
5108
5109
5110
5111
5112
5113
5114
5115
5116
5117
5118
5119
5120
5121
5122
5123
5124
5125
5126
5127
5128
5129
5130
5131
5132
5133
5134
5135
5136
5137
5138
5139
5140
5141
5142
5143
5144
5145
5146
5147
5148
5149
5150
5151
5152
5153
5154
5155
5156
5157
5158
5159
5160
5161
5162
5163
5164
5165
5166
5167
5168
5169
5170
5171
5172
5173
5174
5175
5176
5177
5178
5179
5180
5181
5182
5183
5184
5185
5186
5187
5188
5189
5190
5191
5192
5193
5194
5195
5196
5197
5198
5199
5200
5201
5202
5203
5204
5205
5206
5207
5208
5209
5210
5211
5212
5213
5214
5215
5216
5217
5218
5219
5220
5221
5222
5223
5224
5225
5226
5227
5228
5229
5230
5231
5232
5233
5234
5235
5236
5237
5238
5239
5240
5241
5242
5243
5244
5245
5246
5247
5248
5249
5250
5251
5252
5253
5254
5255
5256
5257
5258
5259
5260
5261
5262
5263
5264
5265
5266
5267
5268
5269
5270
5271
5272
5273
5274
5275
5276
5277
5278
5279
5280
5281
5282
5283
5284
5285
5286
5287
5288
5289
5290
5291
5292
5293
5294
5295
5296
5297
5298
5299
5300
5301
5302
5303
5304
5305
5306
5307
5308
5309
5310
5311
5312
5313
5314
5315
5316
5317
5318
5319
5320
5321
5322
5323
5324
5325
5326
5327
5328
5329
5330
5331
5332
5333
5334
5335
5336
5337
5338
5339
5340
5341
5342
5343
5344
5345
5346
5347
5348
5349
5350
5351
5352
5353
5354
5355
5356
5357
5358
5359
5360
5361
5362
5363
5364
5365
5366
5367
5368
5369
5370
5371
5372
5373
5374
5375
5376
5377
5378
5379
5380
5381
5382
5383
5384
5385
5386
5387
5388
5389
5390
5391
5392
5393
5394
5395
5396
5397
5398
5399
5400
5401
5402
5403
5404
5405
5406
5407
5408
5409
5410
5411
5412
5413
5414
5415
5416
5417
5418
5419
5420
5421
5422
5423
5424
5425
5426
5427
5428
5429
5430
5431
5432
5433
5434
5435
5436
5437
5438
5439
5440
5441
5442
5443
5444
5445
5446
5447
5448
5449
5450
5451
5452
5453
5454
5455
5456
5457
5458
5459
5460
5461
5462
5463
5464
5465
5466
5467
5468
5469
5470
5471
5472
5473
5474
5475
5476
5477
5478
5479
5480
5481
5482
5483
5484
5485
5486
5487
5488
5489
5490
5491
5492
5493
5494
5495
5496
5497
5498
5499
5500
5501
5502
5503
5504
5505
5506
5507
5508
5509
5510
5511
5512
5513
5514
5515
5516
5517
5518
5519
5520
5521
5522
5523
5524
5525
5526
5527
5528
5529
5530
5531
5532
5533
5534
5535
5536
5537
5538
5539
5540
5541
5542
5543
5544
5545
5546
5547
5548
5549
5550
5551
5552
5553
5554
5555
5556
5557
5558
5559
5560
5561
5562
5563
5564
5565
5566
5567
5568
5569
5570
5571
5572
5573
5574
5575
5576
5577
5578
5579
5580
5581
5582
5583
5584
5585
5586
5587
5588
5589
5590
5591
5592
5593
5594
5595
5596
5597
5598
5599
5600
5601
5602
5603
5604
5605
5606
5607
5608
5609
5610
5611
5612
5613
5614
5615
5616
5617
5618
5619
5620
5621
5622
5623
5624
5625
5626
5627
5628
5629
5630
5631
5632
5633
5634
5635
5636
5637
5638
5639
5640
5641
5642
5643
5644
5645
5646
5647
5648
5649
5650
5651
5652
5653
5654
5655
5656
5657
5658
5659
5660
5661
5662
5663
5664
5665
5666
5667
5668
5669
5670
5671
5672
5673
5674
5675
5676
5677
5678
5679
5680
5681
5682
5683
5684
5685
5686
5687
5688
5689
5690
5691
5692
5693
5694
5695
5696
5697
5698
5699
5700
5701
5702
5703
5704
5705
5706
5707
5708
5709
5710
5711
5712
5713
5714
5715
5716
5717
5718
5719
5720
5721
5722
5723
5724
5725
5726
5727
5728
5729
5730
5731
5732
5733
5734
5735
5736
5737
5738
5739
5740
5741
5742
5743
5744
5745
5746
5747
5748
5749
5750
5751
5752
5753
5754
5755
5756
5757
5758
5759
5760
5761
5762
5763
5764
5765
5766
5767
5768
5769
5770
5771
5772
5773
5774
5775
5776
5777
5778
5779
5780
5781
5782
5783
5784
5785
5786
5787
5788
5789
5790
5791
5792
5793
5794
5795
5796
5797
5798
5799
5800
5801
5802
5803
5804
5805
5806
5807
5808
5809
5810
5811
5812
5813
5814
5815
5816
5817
5818
5819
5820
5821
5822
5823
5824
5825
5826
5827
5828
5829
5830
5831
5832
5833
5834
5835
5836
5837
5838
5839
5840
5841
5842
5843
5844
5845
5846
5847
5848
5849
5850
5851
5852
5853
5854
5855
5856
5857
5858
5859
5860
5861
5862
5863
5864
5865
5866
5867
5868
5869
5870
5871
5872
5873
5874
5875
5876
5877
5878
5879
5880
5881
5882
5883
5884
5885
5886
5887
5888
5889
5890
5891
5892
5893
5894
5895
5896
5897
5898
5899
5900
5901
5902
5903
5904
5905
5906
5907
5908
5909
5910
5911
5912
5913
5914
5915
5916
5917
5918
5919
5920
5921
5922
5923
5924
5925
5926
5927
5928
5929
5930
5931
5932
5933
5934
5935
5936
5937
5938
5939
5940
5941
5942
5943
5944
5945
5946
5947
5948
5949
5950
5951
5952
5953
5954
5955
5956
5957
5958
5959
5960
5961
5962
5963
5964
5965
5966
5967
5968
5969
5970
5971
5972
5973
5974
5975
5976
5977
5978
5979
5980
5981
5982
5983
5984
5985
5986
5987
5988
5989
5990
5991
5992
5993
5994
5995
5996
5997
5998
5999
6000
6001
6002
6003
6004
6005
6006
6007
6008
6009
6010
6011
6012
6013
6014
6015
6016
6017
6018
6019
6020
6021
6022
6023
6024
6025
6026
6027
6028
6029
6030
6031
6032
6033
6034
6035
6036
6037
6038
6039
6040
6041
6042
6043
6044
6045
6046
6047
6048
6049
6050
6051
6052
6053
6054
6055
6056
6057
6058
6059
6060
6061
6062
6063
6064
6065
6066
6067
6068
6069
6070
6071
6072
6073
6074
6075
6076
6077
6078
6079
6080
6081
6082
6083
6084
6085
6086
6087
6088
6089
6090
6091
6092
6093
6094
6095
6096
6097
6098
6099
6100
6101
6102
6103
6104
6105
6106
6107
6108
6109
6110
6111
6112
6113
6114
6115
6116
6117
6118
6119
6120
6121
6122
6123
6124
6125
6126
6127
6128
6129
6130
6131
6132
6133
6134
6135
6136
6137
6138
6139
6140
6141
6142
6143
6144
6145
6146
6147
6148
6149
6150
6151
6152
6153
6154
6155
6156
6157
6158
6159
6160
6161
6162
6163
6164
6165
6166
6167
6168
6169
6170
6171
6172
6173
6174
6175
6176
6177
6178
6179
6180
6181
6182
6183
6184
6185
6186
6187
6188
6189
6190
6191
6192
6193
6194
6195
6196
6197
6198
6199
6200
6201
6202
6203
6204
6205
6206
6207
6208
6209
6210
6211
6212
6213
6214
6215
6216
6217
6218
6219
6220
6221
6222
6223
6224
6225
6226
6227
6228
6229
6230
6231
6232
6233
6234
6235
6236
6237
6238
6239
6240
6241
6242
6243
6244
6245
6246
6247
6248
6249
6250
6251
6252
6253
6254
6255
6256
6257
6258
6259
6260
6261
6262
6263
6264
6265
6266
6267
6268
6269
6270
6271
6272
6273
6274
6275
6276
6277
6278
6279
6280
6281
6282
6283
6284
6285
6286
6287
6288
6289
6290
6291
6292
6293
6294
6295
6296
6297
6298
6299
6300
6301
6302
6303
6304
6305
6306
6307
6308
6309
6310
6311
6312
6313
6314
6315
6316
6317
6318
6319
6320
6321
6322
6323
6324
6325
6326
6327
6328
6329
6330
6331
6332
6333
6334
6335
6336
6337
6338
6339
6340
6341
6342
6343
6344
6345
6346
6347
6348
6349
6350
6351
6352
6353
6354
6355
6356
6357
6358
6359
6360
6361
6362
6363
6364
6365
6366
6367
6368
6369
6370
6371
6372
6373
6374
6375
6376
6377
6378
6379
6380
6381
6382
6383
6384
6385
6386
6387
6388
6389
6390
6391
6392
6393
6394
6395
6396
6397
6398
6399
6400
6401
6402
6403
6404
6405
6406
6407
6408
6409
6410
6411
6412
6413
6414
6415
6416
6417
6418
6419
6420
6421
6422
6423
6424
6425
6426
6427
6428
6429
6430
6431
6432
6433
6434
6435
6436
6437
6438
6439
6440
6441
6442
6443
6444
6445
6446
6447
6448
6449
6450
6451
6452
6453
6454
6455
6456
6457
6458
6459
6460
6461
6462
6463
6464
6465
6466
6467
6468
6469
6470
6471
6472
6473
6474
6475
6476
6477
6478
6479
6480
6481
6482
6483
6484
6485
6486
6487
6488
6489
6490
6491
6492
6493
6494
6495
6496
6497
6498
6499
6500
6501
6502
6503
6504
6505
6506
6507
6508
6509
6510
6511
6512
6513
6514
6515
6516
6517
6518
6519
6520
6521
6522
6523
6524
6525
6526
6527
6528
6529
6530
6531
6532
6533
6534
6535
6536
6537
6538
6539
6540
6541
6542
6543
6544
6545
6546
6547
6548
6549
6550
6551
6552
6553
6554
6555
6556
6557
6558
6559
6560
6561
6562
6563
6564
6565
6566
6567
6568
6569
6570
6571
6572
6573
6574
6575
6576
6577
6578
6579
6580
6581
6582
6583
6584
6585
6586
6587
6588
6589
6590
6591
6592
6593
6594
6595
6596
6597
6598
6599
6600
6601
6602
6603
6604
6605
6606
6607
6608
6609
6610
6611
6612
6613
6614
6615
6616
6617
6618
6619
6620
6621
6622
6623
6624
6625
6626
6627
6628
6629
6630
6631
6632
6633
6634
6635
6636
6637
6638
6639
6640
6641
6642
6643
6644
6645
6646
6647
6648
6649
6650
6651
6652
6653
6654
6655
6656
6657
6658
6659
6660
6661
6662
6663
6664
6665
6666
6667
6668
6669
6670
6671
6672
6673
6674
6675
6676
6677
6678
6679
6680
6681
6682
6683
6684
6685
6686
6687
6688
6689
6690
6691
6692
6693
6694
6695
6696
6697
6698
6699
6700
6701
6702
6703
6704
6705
6706
6707
6708
6709
6710
6711
6712
6713
6714
6715
6716
6717
6718
6719
6720
6721
6722
6723
6724
6725
6726
6727
6728
6729
6730
6731
6732
6733
6734
6735
6736
6737
6738
6739
6740
6741
6742
6743
6744
6745
6746
6747
6748
6749
6750
6751
6752
6753
6754
6755
6756
6757
6758
6759
6760
6761
6762
6763
6764
6765
6766
6767
6768
6769
6770
6771
6772
6773
6774
6775
6776
6777
6778
6779
6780
6781
6782
6783
6784
6785
6786
6787
6788
6789
6790
6791
6792
6793
6794
6795
6796
6797
6798
6799
6800
6801
6802
6803
6804
6805
6806
6807
6808
6809
6810
6811
6812
6813
6814
6815
6816
6817
6818
6819
6820
6821
6822
6823
6824
6825
6826
6827
6828
6829
6830
6831
6832
6833
6834
6835
6836
6837
6838
6839
6840
6841
6842
6843
6844
6845
6846
6847
6848
6849
6850
6851
6852
6853
6854
6855
6856
6857
6858
6859
6860
6861
6862
6863
6864
6865
6866
6867
6868
6869
6870
6871
6872
6873
6874
6875
6876
6877
6878
6879
6880
6881
6882
6883
6884
6885
6886
6887
6888
6889
6890
6891
6892
6893
6894
6895
6896
6897
6898
6899
6900
6901
6902
6903
6904
6905
6906
6907
6908
6909
6910
6911
6912
6913
6914
6915
6916
6917
6918
6919
6920
6921
6922
6923
6924
6925
6926
6927
6928
6929
6930
6931
6932
6933
6934
6935
6936
6937
6938
6939
6940
6941
6942
6943
6944
6945
6946
6947
6948
6949
6950
6951
6952
6953
6954
6955
6956
6957
6958
6959
6960
6961
6962
6963
6964
6965
6966
6967
6968
6969
6970
6971
6972
6973
6974
6975
6976
6977
6978
6979
6980
6981
6982
6983
6984
6985
6986
6987
6988
6989
6990
6991
6992
6993
6994
6995
6996
6997
6998
6999
7000
7001
7002
7003
7004
7005
7006
7007
7008
7009
7010
7011
7012
7013
7014
7015
7016
7017
7018
7019
7020
7021
7022
7023
7024
7025
7026
7027
7028
7029
7030
7031
7032
7033
7034
7035
7036
7037
7038
7039
7040
7041
7042
7043
7044
7045
7046
7047
7048
7049
7050
7051
7052
7053
7054
7055
7056
7057
7058
7059
7060
7061
7062
7063
7064
7065
7066
7067
7068
7069
7070
7071
7072
7073
7074
7075
7076
7077
7078
7079
7080
7081
7082
7083
7084
7085
7086
7087
7088
7089
7090
7091
7092
7093
7094
7095
7096
7097
7098
7099
7100
7101
7102
7103
7104
7105
7106
7107
7108
7109
7110
7111
7112
7113
7114
7115
7116
7117
7118
7119
7120
7121
7122
7123
7124
7125
7126
7127
7128
7129
7130
7131
7132
7133
7134
7135
7136
7137
7138
7139
7140
7141
7142
7143
7144
7145
7146
7147
7148
7149
7150
7151
7152
7153
7154
7155
7156
7157
7158
7159
7160
7161
7162
7163
7164
7165
7166
7167
7168
7169
7170
7171
7172
7173
7174
7175
7176
7177
7178
7179
7180
7181
7182
7183
7184
7185
7186
7187
7188
7189
7190
7191
7192
7193
7194
7195
7196
7197
7198
7199
7200
7201
7202
7203
7204
7205
7206
7207
7208
7209
7210
7211
7212
7213
7214
7215
7216
7217
7218
7219
7220
7221
7222
7223
7224
7225
7226
7227
7228
7229
7230
7231
7232
7233
7234
7235
7236
7237
7238
7239
7240
7241
7242
7243
7244
7245
7246
7247
7248
7249
7250
7251
7252
7253
7254
7255
7256
7257
7258
7259
7260
7261
7262
7263
7264
7265
7266
7267
7268
7269
7270
7271
7272
7273
7274
7275
7276
7277
7278
7279
7280
7281
7282
7283
7284
7285
7286
7287
7288
7289
7290
7291
7292
7293
7294
7295
7296
7297
7298
7299
7300
7301
7302
7303
7304
7305
7306
7307
7308
7309
7310
7311
7312
7313
7314
7315
7316
7317
7318
7319
7320
7321
7322
7323
7324
7325
7326
7327
7328
7329
7330
7331
7332
7333
7334
7335
7336
7337
7338
7339
7340
7341
7342
7343
7344
7345
7346
7347
7348
7349
7350
7351
7352
7353
7354
7355
7356
7357
7358
7359
7360
7361
7362
7363
7364
7365
7366
7367
7368
7369
7370
7371
7372
7373
7374
7375
7376
7377
7378
7379
7380
7381
7382
7383
7384
7385
7386
7387
7388
7389
7390
7391
7392
7393
7394
7395
7396
7397
7398
7399
7400
7401
7402
7403
7404
7405
7406
7407
7408
7409
7410
7411
7412
7413
7414
7415
7416
7417
7418
7419
7420
7421
7422
7423
7424
7425
7426
7427
7428
7429
7430
7431
7432
7433
7434
7435
7436
7437
7438
7439
7440
7441
7442
7443
7444
7445
7446
7447
7448
7449
7450
7451
7452
7453
7454
7455
7456
7457
7458
7459
7460
7461
7462
7463
7464
7465
7466
7467
7468
7469
7470
7471
7472
7473
7474
7475
7476
7477
7478
7479
7480
7481
7482
7483
7484
7485
7486
7487
7488
7489
7490
7491
7492
7493
7494
7495
7496
7497
7498
7499
7500
7501
7502
7503
7504
7505
7506
7507
7508
7509
7510
7511
7512
7513
7514
7515
7516
7517
7518
7519
7520
7521
7522
7523
7524
7525
7526
7527
7528
7529
7530
7531
7532
7533
7534
7535
7536
7537
7538
7539
7540
7541
7542
7543
7544
7545
7546
7547
7548
7549
7550
7551
7552
7553
7554
7555
7556
7557
7558
7559
7560
7561
7562
7563
7564
7565
7566
7567
7568
7569
7570
7571
7572
7573
7574
7575
7576
7577
7578
7579
7580
7581
7582
7583
7584
7585
7586
7587
7588
7589
7590
7591
7592
7593
7594
7595
7596
7597
7598
7599
7600
7601
7602
7603
7604
7605
7606
7607
7608
7609
7610
7611
7612
7613
7614
7615
7616
7617
7618
7619
7620
7621
7622
7623
7624
7625
7626
7627
7628
7629
7630
7631
7632
7633
7634
7635
7636
7637
7638
7639
7640
7641
7642
7643
7644
7645
7646
7647
7648
7649
7650
7651
7652
7653
7654
7655
7656
7657
7658
7659
7660
7661
7662
7663
7664
7665
7666
7667
7668
7669
7670
7671
7672
7673
7674
7675
7676
7677
7678
7679
7680
7681
7682
7683
7684
7685
7686
7687
7688
7689
7690
7691
7692
7693
7694
7695
7696
7697
7698
7699
7700
7701
7702
7703
7704
7705
7706
7707
7708
7709
7710
7711
7712
7713
7714
7715
7716
7717
7718
7719
7720
7721
7722
7723
7724
7725
7726
7727
7728
7729
7730
7731
7732
7733
7734
7735
7736
7737
7738
7739
7740
7741
7742
7743
7744
7745
7746
7747
7748
7749
7750
7751
7752
7753
7754
7755
7756
7757
7758
7759
7760
7761
7762
7763
7764
7765
7766
7767
7768
7769
7770
7771
7772
7773
7774
7775
7776
7777
7778
7779
7780
7781
7782
7783
7784
7785
7786
7787
7788
7789
7790
7791
7792
7793
7794
7795
7796
7797
7798
7799
7800
7801
7802
7803
7804
7805
7806
7807
7808
7809
7810
7811
7812
7813
7814
7815
7816
7817
7818
7819
7820
7821
7822
7823
7824
7825
7826
7827
7828
7829
7830
7831
7832
7833
7834
7835
7836
7837
7838
7839
7840
7841
7842
7843
7844
7845
7846
7847
7848
7849
7850
7851
7852
7853
7854
7855
7856
7857
7858
7859
7860
7861
7862
7863
7864
7865
7866
7867
7868
7869
7870
7871
7872
7873
7874
7875
7876
7877
7878
7879
7880
7881
7882
7883
7884
7885
7886
7887
7888
7889
7890
7891
7892
7893
7894
7895
7896
7897
7898
7899
7900
7901
7902
7903
7904
7905
7906
7907
7908
7909
7910
7911
7912
7913
7914
7915
7916
7917
7918
7919
7920
7921
7922
7923
7924
7925
7926
7927
7928
7929
7930
7931
7932
7933
7934
7935
7936
7937
7938
7939
7940
7941
7942
7943
7944
7945
7946
7947
7948
7949
7950
7951
7952
7953
7954
7955
7956
7957
7958
7959
7960
7961
7962
7963
7964
7965
7966
7967
7968
7969
7970
7971
7972
7973
7974
7975
7976
7977
7978
7979
7980
7981
7982
7983
7984
7985
7986
7987
7988
7989
7990
7991
7992
7993
7994
7995
7996
7997
7998
7999
8000
8001
8002
8003
8004
8005
8006
8007
8008
8009
8010
8011
8012
8013
8014
8015
8016
8017
8018
8019
8020
8021
8022
8023
8024
8025
8026
8027
8028
8029
8030
8031
8032
8033
8034
8035
8036
8037
8038
8039
8040
8041
8042
8043
8044
8045
8046
8047
8048
8049
8050
8051
8052
8053
8054
8055
8056
8057
8058
8059
8060
8061
8062
8063
8064
8065
8066
8067
8068
8069
8070
8071
8072
8073
8074
8075
8076
8077
8078
8079
8080
8081
8082
8083
8084
8085
8086
8087
8088
8089
8090
8091
8092
8093
8094
8095
8096
8097
8098
8099
8100
8101
8102
8103
8104
8105
8106
8107
8108
8109
8110
8111
8112
8113
8114
8115
8116
8117
8118
8119
8120
8121
8122
8123
8124
8125
8126
8127
8128
8129
8130
8131
8132
8133
8134
8135
8136
8137
8138
8139
8140
8141
8142
8143
8144
8145
8146
8147
8148
8149
8150
8151
8152
8153
8154
8155
8156
8157
8158
8159
8160
8161
8162
8163
8164
8165
8166
8167
8168
8169
8170
8171
8172
8173
8174
8175
8176
8177
8178
8179
8180
8181
8182
8183
8184
8185
8186
8187
8188
8189
8190
8191
8192
8193
8194
8195
8196
8197
8198
8199
8200
8201
8202
8203
8204
8205
8206
8207
8208
8209
8210
8211
8212
8213
8214
8215
8216
8217
8218
8219
8220
8221
8222
8223
8224
8225
8226
8227
8228
8229
8230
8231
8232
8233
8234
8235
8236
8237
8238
8239
8240
8241
8242
8243
8244
8245
8246
8247
8248
8249
8250
8251
8252
8253
8254
8255
8256
8257
8258
8259
8260
8261
8262
8263
8264
8265
8266
8267
8268
8269
8270
8271
8272
8273
8274
8275
8276
8277
8278
8279
8280
8281
8282
8283
8284
8285
8286
8287
8288
8289
8290
8291
8292
8293
8294
8295
8296
8297
8298
8299
8300
8301
8302
8303
8304
8305
8306
8307
8308
8309
8310
8311
8312
8313
8314
8315
8316
8317
8318
8319
8320
8321
8322
8323
8324
8325
8326
8327
8328
8329
8330
8331
8332
8333
8334
8335
8336
8337
8338
8339
8340
8341
8342
8343
8344
8345
8346
8347
8348
8349
8350
8351
8352
8353
8354
8355
8356
8357
8358
8359
8360
8361
8362
8363
8364
8365
8366
8367
8368
8369
8370
8371
8372
8373
8374
8375
8376
8377
8378
8379
8380
8381
8382
8383
8384
8385
8386
8387
8388
8389
8390
8391
8392
8393
8394
8395
8396
8397
8398
8399
8400
8401
8402
8403
8404
8405
8406
8407
8408
8409
8410
8411
8412
8413
8414
8415
8416
8417
8418
8419
8420
8421
8422
8423
8424
8425
8426
8427
8428
8429
8430
8431
8432
8433
8434
8435
8436
8437
8438
8439
8440
8441
8442
8443
8444
8445
8446
8447
8448
8449
8450
8451
8452
8453
8454
8455
8456
8457
8458
8459
8460
8461
8462
8463
8464
8465
8466
8467
8468
8469
8470
8471
8472
8473
8474
8475
8476
8477
8478
8479
8480
8481
8482
8483
8484
8485
8486
8487
8488
8489
8490
8491
8492
8493
8494
8495
8496
8497
8498
8499
8500
8501
8502
8503
8504
8505
8506
8507
8508
8509
8510
8511
8512
8513
8514
8515
8516
8517
8518
8519
8520
8521
8522
8523
8524
8525
8526
8527
8528
8529
8530
8531
8532
8533
8534
8535
8536
8537
8538
8539
8540
8541
8542
8543
8544
8545
8546
8547
8548
8549
8550
8551
8552
8553
8554
8555
8556
8557
8558
8559
8560
8561
8562
8563
8564
8565
8566
8567
8568
8569
8570
8571
8572
8573
8574
8575
8576
8577
8578
8579
8580
8581
8582
8583
8584
8585
8586
8587
8588
8589
8590
8591
8592
8593
8594
8595
8596
8597
8598
8599
8600
8601
8602
8603
8604
8605
8606
8607
8608
8609
8610
8611
8612
8613
8614
8615
8616
8617
8618
8619
8620
8621
8622
8623
8624
8625
8626
8627
8628
8629
8630
8631
8632
8633
8634
8635
8636
8637
8638
8639
8640
8641
8642
8643
8644
8645
8646
8647
8648
8649
8650
8651
8652
8653
8654
8655
8656
8657
8658
8659
8660
8661
8662
8663
8664
8665
8666
8667
8668
8669
8670
8671
8672
8673
8674
8675
8676
8677
8678
8679
8680
8681
8682
8683
8684
8685
8686
8687
8688
8689
8690
8691
8692
8693
8694
8695
8696
8697
8698
8699
8700
8701
8702
8703
8704
8705
8706
8707
8708
8709
8710
8711
8712
8713
8714
8715
8716
8717
8718
8719
8720
8721
8722
8723
8724
8725
8726
8727
8728
8729
8730
8731
8732
8733
8734
8735
8736
8737
8738
8739
8740
8741
8742
8743
8744
8745
8746
8747
8748
8749
8750
8751
8752
8753
8754
8755
8756
8757
8758
8759
8760
8761
8762
8763
8764
8765
8766
8767
8768
8769
8770
8771
8772
8773
8774
8775
8776
8777
8778
8779
8780
8781
8782
8783
8784
8785
8786
8787
8788
8789
8790
8791
8792
8793
8794
8795
8796
8797
8798
8799
8800
8801
8802
8803
8804
8805
8806
8807
8808
8809
8810
8811
8812
8813
8814
8815
8816
8817
8818
8819
8820
8821
8822
8823
8824
8825
8826
8827
8828
8829
8830
8831
8832
8833
8834
8835
8836
8837
8838
8839
8840
8841
8842
8843
8844
8845
8846
8847
8848
8849
8850
8851
8852
8853
8854
8855
8856
8857
8858
8859
8860
8861
8862
8863
8864
8865
8866
8867
8868
8869
8870
8871
8872
8873
8874
8875
8876
8877
8878
8879
8880
8881
8882
8883
8884
8885
8886
8887
8888
8889
8890
8891
8892
8893
8894
8895
8896
8897
8898
8899
8900
8901
8902
8903
8904
8905
8906
8907
8908
8909
8910
8911
8912
8913
8914
8915
8916
8917
8918
8919
8920
8921
8922
8923
8924
8925
8926
8927
8928
8929
8930
8931
8932
8933
8934
8935
8936
8937
8938
8939
8940
8941
8942
8943
8944
8945
8946
8947
8948
8949
8950
8951
8952
8953
8954
8955
8956
8957
8958
8959
8960
8961
8962
8963
8964
8965
8966
8967
8968
8969
8970
8971
8972
8973
8974
8975
8976
8977
8978
8979
8980
8981
8982
8983
8984
8985
8986
8987
8988
8989
8990
8991
8992
8993
8994
8995
8996
8997
8998
8999
9000
9001
9002
9003
9004
9005
9006
9007
9008
9009
9010
9011
9012
9013
9014
9015
9016
9017
9018
9019
9020
9021
9022
9023
9024
9025
9026
9027
9028
9029
9030
9031
9032
9033
9034
9035
9036
9037
9038
9039
9040
9041
9042
9043
9044
9045
9046
9047
9048
9049
9050
9051
9052
9053
9054
9055
9056
9057
9058
9059
9060
9061
9062
9063
9064
9065
9066
9067
9068
9069
9070
9071
9072
9073
9074
9075
9076
9077
9078
9079
9080
9081
9082
9083
9084
9085
9086
9087
9088
9089
9090
9091
9092
9093
9094
9095
9096
9097
9098
9099
9100
9101
9102
9103
9104
9105
9106
9107
9108
9109
9110
9111
9112
9113
9114
9115
9116
9117
9118
9119
9120
9121
9122
9123
9124
9125
9126
9127
9128
9129
9130
9131
9132
9133
9134
9135
9136
9137
9138
9139
9140
9141
9142
9143
9144
9145
9146
9147
9148
9149
9150
9151
9152
9153
9154
9155
9156
9157
9158
9159
9160
9161
9162
9163
9164
9165
9166
9167
9168
9169
9170
9171
9172
9173
9174
9175
9176
9177
9178
9179
9180
9181
9182
9183
9184
9185
9186
9187
9188
9189
9190
9191
9192
9193
9194
9195
9196
9197
9198
9199
9200
9201
9202
9203
9204
9205
9206
9207
9208
9209
9210
9211
9212
9213
9214
9215
9216
9217
9218
9219
9220
9221
9222
9223
9224
9225
9226
9227
9228
9229
9230
9231
9232
9233
9234
9235
9236
9237
9238
9239
9240
9241
9242
9243
9244
9245
9246
9247
9248
9249
9250
9251
9252
9253
9254
9255
9256
9257
9258
9259
9260
9261
9262
9263
9264
9265
9266
9267
9268
9269
9270
9271
9272
9273
9274
9275
9276
9277
9278
9279
9280
9281
9282
9283
9284
9285
9286
9287
9288
9289
9290
9291
9292
9293
9294
9295
9296
9297
9298
9299
9300
9301
9302
9303
9304
9305
9306
9307
9308
9309
9310
9311
9312
9313
9314
9315
9316
9317
9318
9319
9320
9321
9322
9323
9324
9325
9326
9327
9328
9329
9330
9331
9332
9333
9334
9335
9336
9337
9338
9339
9340
9341
9342
9343
9344
9345
9346
9347
9348
9349
9350
9351
9352
9353
9354
9355
9356
9357
9358
9359
9360
9361
9362
9363
9364
9365
9366
9367
9368
9369
9370
9371
9372
9373
9374
9375
9376
9377
9378
9379
9380
9381
9382
9383
9384
9385
9386
9387
9388
9389
9390
9391
9392
9393
9394
9395
9396
9397
9398
9399
9400
9401
9402
9403
9404
9405
9406
9407
9408
9409
9410
9411
9412
9413
9414
9415
9416
9417
9418
9419
9420
9421
9422
9423
9424
9425
9426
9427
9428
9429
9430
9431
9432
9433
9434
9435
9436
9437
9438
9439
9440
9441
9442
9443
9444
9445
9446
9447
9448
9449
9450
9451
9452
9453
9454
9455
9456
9457
9458
9459
9460
9461
9462
9463
9464
9465
9466
9467
9468
9469
9470
9471
9472
9473
9474
9475
9476
9477
9478
9479
9480
9481
9482
9483
9484
9485
9486
9487
9488
9489
9490
9491
9492
9493
9494
9495
9496
9497
9498
9499
9500
9501
9502
9503
9504
9505
9506
9507
9508
9509
9510
9511
9512
9513
9514
9515
9516
9517
9518
9519
9520
9521
9522
9523
9524
9525
9526
9527
9528
9529
9530
9531
9532
9533
9534
9535
9536
9537
9538
9539
9540
9541
9542
9543
9544
9545
9546
9547
9548
9549
9550
9551
9552
9553
9554
9555
9556
9557
9558
9559
9560
9561
9562
9563
9564
9565
9566
9567
9568
9569
9570
9571
9572
9573
9574
9575
9576
9577
9578
9579
9580
9581
9582
9583
9584
9585
9586
9587
9588
9589
9590
9591
9592
9593
9594
9595
9596
9597
9598
9599
9600
9601
9602
9603
9604
9605
9606
9607
9608
9609
9610
9611
9612
9613
9614
9615
9616
9617
9618
9619
9620
9621
9622
9623
9624
9625
9626
9627
9628
9629
9630
9631
9632
9633
9634
9635
9636
9637
9638
9639
9640
9641
9642
9643
9644
9645
9646
9647
9648
9649
9650
9651
9652
9653
9654
9655
9656
9657
9658
9659
9660
9661
9662
9663
9664
9665
9666
9667
9668
9669
9670
9671
9672
9673
9674
9675
9676
9677
9678
9679
9680
9681
9682
9683
9684
9685
9686
9687
9688
9689
9690
9691
9692
9693
9694
9695
9696
9697
9698
9699
9700
9701
9702
9703
9704
9705
9706
9707
9708
9709
9710
9711
9712
9713
9714
9715
9716
9717
9718
9719
9720
9721
9722
9723
9724
9725
9726
9727
9728
9729
9730
9731
9732
9733
9734
9735
9736
9737
9738
9739
9740
9741
9742
9743
9744
9745
9746
9747
9748
9749
9750
9751
9752
9753
9754
9755
9756
9757
9758
9759
9760
9761
9762
9763
9764
9765
9766
9767
9768
9769
9770
9771
9772
9773
9774
9775
9776
9777
9778
9779
9780
9781
9782
9783
9784
9785
9786
9787
9788
9789
9790
9791
9792
9793
9794
9795
9796
9797
9798
9799
9800
9801
9802
9803
9804
9805
9806
9807
9808
9809
9810
9811
9812
9813
9814
9815
9816
9817
9818
9819
9820
9821
9822
9823
9824
9825
9826
9827
9828
9829
9830
9831
9832
9833
9834
9835
9836
9837
9838
9839
9840
9841
9842
9843
9844
9845
9846
9847
9848
9849
9850
9851
9852
9853
9854
9855
9856
9857
9858
9859
9860
9861
9862
9863
9864
9865
9866
9867
9868
9869
9870
9871
9872
9873
9874
9875
9876
9877
9878
9879
9880
9881
9882
9883
9884
9885
9886
9887
9888
9889
9890
9891
9892
9893
9894
9895
9896
9897
9898
9899
9900
9901
9902
9903
9904
9905
9906
9907
9908
9909
9910
9911
9912
9913
9914
9915
9916
9917
9918
9919
9920
9921
9922
9923
9924
9925
9926
9927
9928
9929
9930
9931
9932
9933
9934
9935
9936
9937
9938
9939
9940
9941
9942
9943
9944
9945
9946
9947
9948
9949
9950
9951
9952
9953
9954
9955
9956
9957
9958
9959
9960
9961
9962
9963
9964
9965
9966
9967
9968
9969
9970
9971
9972
9973
9974
9975
9976
9977
9978
9979
9980
9981
9982
9983
9984
9985
9986
9987
9988
9989
9990
9991
9992
9993
9994
9995
9996
9997
9998
9999
10000
10001
10002
10003
10004
10005
10006
10007
10008
10009
10010
10011
10012
10013
10014
10015
10016
10017
10018
10019
10020
10021
10022
10023
10024
10025
10026
10027
10028
10029
10030
10031
10032
10033
10034
10035
10036
10037
10038
10039
10040
10041
10042
10043
10044
10045
10046
10047
10048
10049
10050
10051
10052
10053
10054
10055
10056
10057
10058
10059
10060
10061
10062
10063
10064
10065
10066
10067
10068
10069
10070
10071
10072
10073
10074
10075
10076
10077
10078
10079
10080
10081
10082
10083
10084
10085
10086
10087
10088
10089
10090
10091
10092
10093
10094
10095
10096
10097
10098
10099
10100
10101
10102
10103
10104
10105
10106
10107
10108
10109
10110
10111
10112
10113
10114
10115
10116
10117
10118
10119
10120
10121
10122
10123
10124
10125
10126
10127
10128
10129
10130
10131
10132
10133
10134
10135
10136
10137
10138
10139
10140
10141
10142
10143
10144
10145
10146
10147
10148
10149
10150
10151
10152
10153
10154
10155
10156
10157
10158
10159
10160
10161
10162
10163
10164
10165
10166
10167
10168
10169
10170
10171
10172
10173
10174
10175
10176
10177
10178
10179
10180
10181
10182
10183
10184
10185
10186
10187
10188
10189
10190
10191
10192
10193
10194
10195
10196
10197
10198
10199
10200
10201
10202
10203
10204
10205
10206
10207
10208
10209
10210
10211
10212
10213
10214
10215
10216
10217
10218
10219
10220
10221
10222
10223
10224
10225
10226
10227
10228
10229
10230
10231
10232
10233
10234
10235
10236
10237
10238
10239
10240
10241
10242
10243
10244
10245
10246
10247
10248
10249
10250
10251
10252
10253
10254
10255
10256
10257
10258
10259
10260
10261
10262
10263
10264
10265
10266
10267
10268
10269
10270
10271
10272
10273
10274
10275
10276
10277
10278
10279
10280
10281
10282
10283
10284
10285
10286
10287
10288
10289
10290
10291
10292
10293
10294
10295
10296
10297
10298
10299
10300
10301
10302
10303
10304
10305
10306
10307
10308
10309
10310
10311
10312
10313
10314
10315
10316
10317
10318
10319
10320
10321
10322
10323
10324
10325
10326
10327
10328
10329
10330
10331
10332
10333
10334
10335
10336
10337
10338
10339
10340
10341
10342
10343
10344
10345
10346
10347
10348
10349
10350
10351
10352
10353
10354
10355
10356
10357
10358
10359
10360
10361
10362
10363
10364
10365
10366
10367
10368
10369
10370
10371
10372
10373
10374
10375
10376
10377
10378
10379
10380
10381
10382
10383
10384
10385
10386
10387
10388
10389
10390
10391
10392
10393
10394
10395
10396
10397
10398
10399
10400
10401
10402
10403
10404
10405
10406
10407
10408
10409
10410
10411
10412
10413
10414
10415
10416
10417
10418
10419
10420
10421
10422
10423
10424
10425
10426
10427
10428
10429
10430
10431
10432
10433
10434
10435
10436
10437
10438
10439
10440
10441
10442
10443
10444
10445
10446
10447
10448
10449
10450
10451
10452
10453
10454
10455
10456
10457
10458
10459
10460
10461
10462
10463
10464
10465
10466
10467
10468
10469
10470
10471
10472
10473
10474
10475
10476
10477
10478
10479
10480
10481
10482
10483
10484
10485
10486
10487
10488
10489
10490
10491
10492
10493
10494
10495
10496
10497
10498
10499
10500
10501
10502
10503
10504
10505
10506
10507
10508
10509
10510
10511
10512
10513
10514
10515
10516
10517
10518
10519
10520
10521
10522
10523
10524
10525
10526
10527
10528
10529
10530
10531
10532
10533
10534
10535
10536
10537
10538
10539
10540
10541
10542
10543
10544
10545
10546
10547
10548
10549
10550
10551
10552
10553
10554
10555
10556
10557
10558
10559
10560
10561
10562
10563
10564
10565
10566
10567
10568
10569
10570
10571
10572
10573
10574
10575
10576
10577
10578
10579
10580
10581
10582
10583
10584
10585
10586
10587
10588
10589
10590
10591
10592
10593
10594
10595
10596
10597
10598
10599
10600
10601
10602
10603
10604
10605
10606
10607
10608
10609
10610
10611
10612
10613
10614
10615
10616
10617
10618
10619
10620
10621
10622
10623
10624
10625
10626
10627
10628
10629
10630
10631
10632
10633
10634
10635
10636
10637
10638
10639
10640
10641
10642
10643
10644
10645
10646
10647
10648
10649
10650
10651
10652
10653
10654
10655
10656
10657
10658
10659
10660
10661
10662
10663
10664
10665
10666
10667
10668
10669
10670
10671
10672
10673
10674
10675
10676
10677
10678
10679
10680
10681
10682
10683
10684
10685
10686
10687
10688
10689
10690
10691
10692
10693
10694
10695
10696
10697
10698
10699
10700
10701
10702
10703
10704
10705
10706
10707
10708
10709
10710
10711
10712
10713
10714
10715
10716
10717
10718
10719
10720
10721
10722
10723
10724
10725
10726
10727
10728
10729
10730
10731
10732
10733
10734
10735
10736
10737
10738
10739
10740
10741
10742
10743
10744
10745
10746
10747
10748
10749
10750
10751
10752
10753
10754
10755
10756
10757
10758
10759
10760
10761
10762
10763
10764
10765
10766
10767
10768
10769
10770
10771
10772
10773
10774
10775
10776
10777
10778
10779
10780
10781
10782
10783
10784
10785
10786
10787
10788
10789
10790
10791
10792
10793
10794
10795
10796
10797
10798
10799
10800
10801
10802
10803
10804
10805
10806
10807
10808
10809
10810
10811
10812
10813
10814
10815
10816
10817
10818
10819
10820
10821
10822
10823
10824
10825
10826
10827
10828
10829
10830
10831
10832
10833
10834
10835
10836
10837
10838
10839
10840
10841
10842
10843
10844
10845
10846
10847
10848
10849
10850
10851
10852
10853
10854
10855
10856
10857
10858
10859
10860
10861
10862
10863
10864
10865
10866
10867
10868
10869
10870
10871
10872
10873
10874
10875
10876
10877
10878
10879
10880
10881
10882
10883
10884
10885
10886
10887
10888
10889
10890
10891
10892
10893
10894
10895
10896
10897
10898
10899
10900
10901
10902
10903
10904
10905
10906
10907
10908
10909
10910
10911
10912
10913
10914
10915
10916
10917
10918
10919
10920
10921
10922
10923
10924
10925
10926
10927
10928
10929
10930
10931
10932
10933
10934
10935
10936
10937
10938
10939
10940
10941
10942
10943
10944
10945
10946
10947
10948
10949
10950
10951
10952
10953
10954
10955
10956
10957
10958
10959
10960
10961
10962
10963
10964
10965
10966
10967
10968
10969
10970
10971
10972
10973
10974
10975
10976
10977
10978
10979
10980
10981
10982
10983
10984
10985
10986
10987
10988
10989
10990
10991
10992
10993
10994
10995
10996
10997
10998
10999
11000
11001
11002
11003
11004
11005
11006
11007
11008
11009
11010
11011
11012
11013
11014
11015
11016
11017
11018
11019
11020
11021
11022
11023
11024
11025
11026
11027
11028
11029
11030
11031
11032
11033
11034
11035
11036
11037
11038
11039
11040
11041
11042
11043
11044
11045
11046
11047
11048
11049
11050
11051
11052
11053
11054
11055
11056
11057
11058
11059
11060
11061
11062
11063
11064
11065
11066
11067
11068
11069
11070
11071
11072
11073
11074
11075
11076
11077
11078
11079
11080
11081
11082
11083
11084
11085
11086
11087
11088
11089
11090
11091
11092
11093
11094
11095
11096
11097
11098
11099
11100
11101
11102
11103
11104
11105
11106
11107
11108
11109
11110
11111
11112
11113
11114
11115
11116
11117
11118
11119
11120
11121
11122
11123
11124
11125
11126
11127
11128
11129
11130
11131
11132
11133
11134
11135
11136
11137
11138
11139
11140
11141
11142
11143
11144
11145
11146
11147
11148
11149
11150
11151
11152
11153
11154
11155
11156
11157
11158
11159
11160
11161
11162
11163
11164
11165
11166
11167
11168
11169
11170
11171
11172
11173
11174
11175
11176
11177
11178
11179
11180
11181
11182
11183
11184
11185
11186
11187
11188
11189
11190
11191
11192
11193
11194
11195
11196
11197
11198
11199
11200
11201
11202
11203
11204
11205
11206
11207
11208
11209
11210
11211
11212
11213
11214
11215
11216
11217
11218
11219
11220
11221
11222
11223
11224
11225
11226
11227
11228
11229
11230
11231
11232
11233
11234
11235
11236
11237
11238
11239
11240
11241
11242
11243
11244
11245
11246
11247
11248
11249
11250
11251
11252
11253
11254
11255
11256
11257
11258
11259
11260
11261
11262
11263
11264
11265
11266
11267
11268
11269
11270
11271
11272
11273
11274
11275
11276
11277
11278
11279
11280
11281
11282
11283
11284
11285
11286
11287
11288
11289
11290
11291
11292
11293
11294
11295
11296
11297
11298
11299
11300
11301
11302
11303
11304
11305
11306
11307
11308
11309
11310
11311
11312
11313
11314
11315
11316
11317
11318
11319
11320
11321
11322
11323
11324
11325
11326
11327
11328
11329
11330
11331
11332
11333
11334
11335
11336
11337
11338
11339
11340
11341
11342
11343
11344
11345
11346
11347
11348
11349
11350
11351
11352
11353
11354
11355
11356
11357
11358
11359
11360
11361
11362
11363
11364
11365
11366
11367
11368
11369
11370
11371
11372
11373
11374
11375
11376
11377
11378
11379
11380
11381
11382
11383
11384
11385
11386
11387
11388
11389
11390
11391
11392
11393
11394
11395
11396
11397
11398
11399
11400
11401
11402
11403
11404
11405
11406
11407
11408
11409
11410
11411
11412
11413
11414
11415
11416
11417
11418
11419
11420
11421
11422
11423
11424
11425
11426
11427
11428
11429
11430
11431
11432
11433
11434
11435
11436
11437
11438
11439
11440
11441
11442
11443
11444
11445
11446
11447
11448
11449
11450
11451
11452
11453
11454
11455
11456
11457
11458
11459
11460
11461
11462
11463
11464
11465
11466
11467
11468
11469
11470
11471
11472
11473
11474
11475
11476
11477
11478
11479
11480
11481
11482
11483
11484
11485
11486
11487
11488
11489
11490
11491
11492
11493
11494
11495
11496
11497
11498
11499
11500
11501
11502
11503
11504
11505
11506
11507
11508
11509
11510
11511
11512
11513
11514
11515
11516
11517
11518
11519
11520
11521
11522
11523
11524
11525
11526
11527
11528
11529
11530
11531
11532
11533
11534
11535
11536
11537
11538
11539
11540
11541
11542
11543
11544
11545
11546
11547
11548
11549
11550
11551
11552
11553
11554
11555
11556
11557
11558
11559
11560
11561
11562
11563
11564
11565
11566
11567
11568
11569
11570
11571
11572
11573
11574
11575
11576
11577
11578
11579
11580
11581
11582
11583
11584
11585
11586
11587
11588
11589
11590
11591
11592
11593
11594
11595
11596
11597
11598
11599
11600
11601
11602
11603
11604
11605
11606
11607
11608
11609
11610
11611
11612
11613
11614
11615
11616
11617
11618
11619
11620
11621
11622
11623
11624
11625
11626
11627
11628
11629
11630
11631
11632
11633
11634
11635
11636
11637
11638
11639
11640
11641
11642
11643
11644
11645
11646
11647
11648
11649
11650
11651
11652
11653
11654
11655
11656
11657
11658
11659
11660
11661
11662
11663
11664
11665
11666
11667
11668
11669
11670
11671
11672
11673
11674
11675
11676
11677
11678
11679
11680
11681
11682
11683
11684
11685
11686
11687
11688
11689
11690
11691
11692
11693
11694
11695
11696
11697
11698
11699
11700
11701
11702
11703
11704
11705
11706
11707
11708
11709
11710
11711
11712
11713
11714
11715
11716
11717
11718
11719
11720
11721
11722
11723
11724
11725
11726
11727
11728
11729
11730
11731
11732
11733
11734
11735
11736
11737
11738
11739
11740
11741
11742
11743
11744
11745
11746
11747
11748
11749
11750
11751
11752
11753
11754
11755
11756
11757
11758
11759
11760
11761
11762
11763
11764
11765
11766
11767
11768
11769
11770
11771
11772
11773
11774
11775
11776
11777
11778
11779
11780
11781
11782
11783
11784
11785
11786
11787
11788
11789
11790
11791
11792
11793
11794
11795
11796
11797
11798
11799
11800
11801
11802
11803
11804
11805
11806
11807
11808
11809
11810
11811
11812
11813
11814
11815
11816
11817
11818
11819
11820
11821
11822
11823
11824
11825
11826
11827
11828
11829
11830
11831
11832
11833
11834
11835
11836
11837
11838
11839
11840
11841
11842
11843
11844
11845
11846
11847
11848
11849
11850
11851
11852
11853
11854
11855
11856
11857
11858
11859
11860
11861
11862
11863
11864
11865
11866
11867
11868
11869
11870
11871
11872
11873
11874
11875
11876
11877
11878
11879
11880
11881
11882
11883
11884
11885
11886
11887
11888
11889
11890
11891
11892
11893
11894
11895
11896
11897
11898
11899
11900
11901
11902
11903
11904
11905
11906
11907
11908
11909
11910
11911
11912
11913
11914
11915
11916
11917
11918
11919
11920
11921
11922
11923
11924
11925
11926
11927
11928
11929
11930
11931
11932
11933
11934
11935
11936
11937
11938
11939
11940
11941
11942
11943
11944
11945
11946
11947
11948
11949
11950
11951
11952
11953
11954
11955
11956
11957
11958
11959
11960
11961
11962
11963
11964
11965
11966
11967
11968
11969
11970
11971
11972
11973
11974
11975
11976
11977
11978
11979
11980
11981
11982
11983
11984
11985
11986
11987
11988
11989
11990
11991
11992
11993
11994
11995
11996
11997
11998
11999
12000
12001
12002
12003
12004
12005
12006
12007
12008
12009
12010
12011
12012
12013
12014
12015
12016
12017
12018
12019
12020
12021
12022
12023
12024
12025
12026
12027
12028
12029
12030
12031
12032
12033
12034
12035
12036
12037
12038
12039
12040
12041
12042
12043
12044
12045
12046
12047
12048
12049
12050
12051
12052
12053
12054
12055
12056
12057
12058
12059
12060
12061
12062
12063
12064
12065
12066
12067
12068
12069
12070
12071
12072
12073
12074
12075
12076
12077
12078
12079
12080
12081
12082
12083
12084
12085
12086
12087
12088
12089
12090
12091
12092
12093
12094
12095
12096
12097
12098
12099
12100
12101
12102
12103
12104
12105
12106
12107
12108
12109
12110
12111
12112
12113
12114
12115
12116
12117
12118
12119
12120
12121
12122
12123
12124
12125
12126
12127
12128
12129
12130
12131
12132
12133
12134
12135
12136
12137
12138
12139
12140
12141
12142
12143
12144
12145
12146
12147
12148
12149
12150
12151
12152
12153
12154
12155
12156
12157
12158
12159
12160
12161
12162
12163
12164
12165
12166
12167
12168
12169
12170
12171
12172
12173
12174
12175
12176
12177
12178
12179
12180
12181
12182
12183
12184
12185
12186
12187
12188
12189
12190
12191
12192
12193
12194
12195
12196
12197
12198
12199
12200
12201
12202
12203
12204
12205
12206
12207
12208
12209
12210
12211
12212
12213
12214
12215
12216
12217
12218
12219
12220
12221
12222
12223
12224
12225
12226
12227
12228
12229
12230
12231
12232
12233
12234
12235
12236
12237
12238
12239
12240
12241
12242
12243
12244
12245
12246
12247
12248
12249
12250
12251
12252
12253
12254
12255
12256
12257
12258
12259
12260
12261
12262
12263
12264
12265
12266
12267
12268
12269
12270
12271
12272
12273
12274
12275
12276
12277
12278
12279
12280
12281
12282
12283
12284
12285
12286
12287
12288
12289
12290
12291
12292
12293
12294
12295
12296
12297
12298
12299
12300
12301
12302
12303
12304
12305
12306
12307
12308
12309
12310
12311
12312
12313
12314
12315
12316
12317
12318
12319
12320
12321
12322
12323
12324
12325
12326
12327
12328
12329
12330
12331
12332
12333
12334
12335
12336
12337
12338
12339
12340
12341
12342
12343
12344
12345
12346
12347
12348
12349
12350
12351
12352
12353
12354
12355
12356
12357
12358
12359
12360
12361
12362
12363
12364
12365
12366
12367
12368
12369
12370
12371
12372
12373
12374
12375
12376
12377
12378
12379
12380
12381
12382
12383
12384
12385
12386
12387
12388
12389
12390
12391
12392
12393
12394
12395
12396
12397
12398
12399
12400
12401
12402
12403
12404
12405
12406
12407
12408
12409
12410
12411
12412
12413
12414
12415
12416
12417
12418
12419
12420
12421
12422
12423
12424
12425
12426
12427
12428
12429
12430
12431
12432
12433
12434
12435
12436
12437
12438
12439
12440
12441
12442
12443
12444
12445
12446
12447
12448
12449
12450
12451
12452
12453
12454
12455
12456
12457
12458
12459
12460
12461
12462
12463
12464
12465
12466
12467
12468
12469
12470
12471
12472
12473
12474
12475
12476
12477
12478
12479
12480
12481
12482
12483
12484
12485
12486
12487
12488
12489
12490
12491
12492
12493
12494
12495
12496
12497
12498
12499
12500
12501
12502
12503
12504
12505
12506
12507
12508
12509
12510
12511
12512
12513
12514
12515
12516
12517
12518
12519
12520
12521
12522
12523
12524
12525
12526
12527
12528
12529
12530
12531
12532
12533
12534
12535
12536
12537
12538
12539
12540
12541
12542
12543
12544
12545
12546
12547
12548
12549
12550
12551
12552
12553
12554
12555
12556
12557
12558
12559
12560
12561
12562
12563
12564
12565
12566
12567
12568
12569
12570
12571
12572
12573
12574
12575
12576
12577
12578
12579
12580
12581
12582
12583
12584
12585
12586
12587
12588
12589
12590
12591
12592
12593
12594
12595
12596
12597
12598
12599
12600
12601
12602
12603
12604
12605
12606
12607
12608
12609
12610
12611
12612
12613
12614
12615
12616
12617
12618
12619
12620
12621
12622
12623
12624
12625
12626
12627
12628
12629
12630
12631
12632
12633
12634
12635
12636
12637
12638
12639
12640
12641
12642
12643
12644
12645
12646
12647
12648
12649
12650
12651
12652
12653
12654
12655
12656
12657
12658
12659
12660
12661
12662
12663
12664
12665
12666
12667
12668
12669
12670
12671
12672
12673
12674
12675
12676
12677
12678
12679
12680
12681
12682
12683
12684
12685
12686
12687
12688
12689
12690
12691
12692
12693
12694
12695
12696
12697
12698
12699
12700
12701
12702
12703
12704
12705
12706
12707
12708
12709
12710
12711
12712
12713
12714
12715
12716
12717
12718
12719
12720
12721
12722
12723
12724
12725
12726
12727
12728
12729
12730
12731
12732
12733
12734
12735
12736
12737
12738
12739
12740
12741
12742
12743
12744
12745
12746
12747
12748
12749
12750
12751
12752
12753
12754
12755
12756
12757
12758
12759
12760
12761
12762
12763
12764
12765
12766
12767
12768
12769
12770
12771
12772
12773
12774
12775
12776
12777
12778
12779
12780
12781
12782
12783
12784
12785
12786
12787
12788
12789
12790
12791
12792
12793
12794
12795
12796
12797
12798
12799
12800
12801
12802
12803
12804
12805
12806
12807
12808
12809
12810
12811
12812
12813
12814
12815
12816
12817
12818
12819
12820
12821
12822
12823
12824
12825
12826
12827
12828
12829
12830
12831
12832
12833
12834
12835
12836
12837
12838
12839
12840
12841
12842
12843
12844
12845
12846
12847
12848
12849
12850
12851
12852
12853
12854
12855
12856
12857
12858
12859
12860
12861
12862
12863
12864
12865
12866
12867
12868
12869
12870
12871
12872
12873
12874
12875
12876
12877
12878
12879
12880
12881
12882
12883
12884
12885
12886
12887
12888
12889
12890
12891
12892
12893
12894
12895
12896
12897
12898
12899
12900
12901
12902
12903
12904
12905
12906
12907
12908
12909
12910
12911
12912
12913
12914
12915
12916
12917
12918
12919
12920
12921
12922
12923
12924
12925
12926
12927
12928
12929
12930
12931
12932
12933
12934
12935
12936
12937
12938
12939
12940
12941
12942
12943
12944
12945
12946
12947
12948
12949
12950
12951
12952
12953
12954
12955
12956
12957
12958
12959
12960
12961
12962
12963
12964
12965
12966
12967
12968
12969
12970
12971
12972
12973
12974
12975
12976
12977
12978
12979
12980
12981
12982
12983
12984
12985
12986
12987
12988
12989
12990
12991
12992
12993
12994
12995
12996
12997
12998
12999
13000
13001
13002
13003
13004
13005
13006
13007
13008
13009
13010
13011
13012
13013
13014
13015
13016
13017
13018
13019
13020
13021
13022
13023
13024
13025
13026
13027
13028
13029
13030
13031
13032
13033
13034
13035
13036
13037
13038
13039
13040
13041
13042
13043
13044
13045
13046
13047
13048
13049
13050
13051
13052
13053
13054
13055
13056
13057
13058
13059
13060
13061
13062
13063
13064
13065
13066
13067
13068
13069
13070
13071
13072
13073
13074
13075
13076
13077
13078
13079
13080
13081
13082
13083
13084
13085
13086
13087
13088
13089
13090
13091
13092
13093
13094
13095
13096
13097
13098
13099
13100
13101
13102
13103
13104
13105
13106
13107
13108
13109
13110
13111
13112
13113
13114
13115
13116
13117
13118
13119
13120
13121
13122
13123
13124
13125
13126
13127
13128
13129
13130
13131
13132
13133
13134
13135
13136
13137
13138
13139
13140
13141
13142
13143
13144
13145
13146
13147
13148
13149
13150
13151
13152
13153
13154
13155
13156
13157
13158
13159
13160
13161
13162
13163
13164
13165
13166
13167
13168
13169
13170
13171
13172
13173
13174
13175
13176
13177
13178
13179
13180
13181
13182
13183
13184
13185
13186
13187
13188
13189
13190
13191
13192
13193
13194
13195
13196
13197
13198
13199
13200
13201
13202
13203
13204
13205
13206
13207
13208
13209
13210
13211
13212
13213
13214
13215
13216
13217
13218
13219
13220
13221
13222
13223
13224
13225
13226
13227
13228
13229
13230
13231
13232
13233
13234
13235
13236
13237
13238
13239
13240
13241
13242
13243
13244
13245
13246
13247
13248
13249
13250
13251
13252
13253
13254
13255
13256
13257
13258
13259
13260
13261
13262
13263
13264
13265
13266
13267
13268
13269
13270
13271
13272
13273
13274
13275
13276
13277
13278
13279
13280
13281
13282
13283
13284
13285
13286
13287
13288
13289
13290
13291
13292
13293
13294
13295
13296
13297
13298
13299
13300
13301
13302
13303
13304
13305
13306
13307
13308
13309
13310
13311
13312
13313
13314
13315
13316
13317
13318
13319
13320
13321
13322
13323
13324
13325
13326
13327
13328
13329
13330
13331
13332
13333
13334
13335
13336
13337
13338
13339
13340
13341
13342
13343
13344
13345
13346
13347
13348
13349
13350
13351
13352
13353
13354
13355
13356
13357
13358
13359
13360
13361
13362
13363
13364
13365
13366
13367
13368
13369
13370
13371
13372
13373
13374
13375
13376
13377
13378
13379
13380
13381
13382
13383
13384
13385
13386
13387
13388
13389
13390
13391
13392
13393
13394
13395
13396
13397
13398
13399
13400
13401
13402
13403
13404
13405
13406
13407
13408
13409
13410
13411
13412
13413
13414
13415
13416
13417
13418
13419
13420
13421
13422
13423
13424
13425
13426
13427
13428
13429
13430
13431
13432
13433
13434
13435
13436
13437
13438
13439
13440
13441
13442
13443
13444
13445
13446
13447
13448
13449
13450
13451
13452
13453
13454
13455
13456
13457
13458
13459
13460
13461
13462
13463
13464
13465
13466
13467
13468
13469
13470
13471
13472
13473
13474
13475
13476
13477
13478
13479
13480
13481
13482
13483
13484
13485
13486
13487
13488
13489
13490
13491
13492
13493
13494
13495
13496
13497
13498
13499
13500
13501
13502
13503
13504
13505
13506
13507
13508
13509
13510
13511
13512
13513
13514
13515
13516
13517
13518
13519
13520
13521
13522
13523
13524
13525
13526
13527
13528
13529
13530
13531
13532
13533
13534
13535
13536
13537
13538
13539
13540
13541
13542
13543
13544
13545
13546
13547
13548
13549
13550
13551
13552
13553
13554
13555
13556
13557
13558
13559
13560
13561
13562
13563
13564
13565
13566
13567
13568
13569
13570
13571
13572
13573
13574
13575
13576
13577
13578
13579
13580
13581
13582
13583
13584
13585
13586
13587
13588
13589
13590
13591
13592
13593
13594
13595
13596
13597
13598
13599
13600
13601
13602
13603
13604
13605
13606
13607
13608
13609
13610
13611
13612
13613
13614
13615
13616
13617
13618
13619
13620
13621
13622
13623
13624
13625
13626
13627
13628
13629
13630
13631
13632
13633
13634
13635
13636
13637
13638
13639
13640
13641
13642
13643
13644
13645
13646
13647
13648
13649
13650
13651
13652
13653
13654
13655
13656
13657
13658
13659
13660
13661
13662
13663
13664
13665
13666
13667
13668
13669
13670
13671
13672
13673
13674
13675
13676
13677
13678
13679
13680
13681
13682
13683
13684
13685
13686
13687
13688
13689
13690
13691
13692
13693
13694
13695
13696
13697
13698
13699
13700
13701
13702
13703
13704
13705
13706
13707
13708
13709
13710
13711
13712
13713
13714
13715
13716
13717
13718
13719
13720
13721
13722
13723
13724
13725
13726
13727
13728
13729
13730
13731
13732
13733
13734
13735
13736
13737
13738
13739
13740
13741
13742
13743
13744
13745
13746
13747
13748
13749
13750
13751
13752
13753
13754
13755
13756
13757
13758
13759
13760
13761
13762
13763
13764
13765
13766
13767
13768
13769
13770
13771
13772
13773
13774
13775
13776
13777
13778
13779
13780
13781
13782
13783
13784
13785
13786
13787
13788
13789
13790
13791
13792
13793
13794
13795
13796
13797
13798
13799
13800
13801
13802
13803
13804
13805
13806
13807
13808
13809
13810
13811
13812
13813
13814
13815
13816
13817
13818
13819
13820
13821
13822
13823
13824
13825
13826
13827
13828
13829
13830
13831
13832
13833
13834
13835
13836
13837
13838
13839
13840
13841
13842
13843
13844
13845
13846
13847
13848
13849
13850
13851
13852
13853
13854
13855
13856
13857
13858
13859
13860
13861
13862
13863
13864
13865
13866
13867
13868
13869
13870
13871
13872
13873
13874
13875
13876
13877
13878
13879
13880
13881
13882
13883
13884
13885
13886
13887
13888
13889
13890
13891
13892
13893
13894
13895
13896
13897
13898
13899
13900
13901
13902
13903
13904
13905
13906
13907
13908
13909
13910
13911
13912
13913
13914
13915
13916
13917
13918
13919
13920
13921
13922
13923
13924
13925
13926
13927
13928
13929
13930
13931
13932
13933
13934
13935
13936
13937
13938
13939
13940
13941
13942
13943
13944
13945
13946
13947
13948
13949
13950
13951
13952
13953
13954
13955
13956
13957
13958
13959
13960
13961
13962
13963
13964
13965
13966
13967
13968
13969
13970
13971
13972
13973
13974
13975
13976
13977
13978
13979
13980
13981
13982
13983
13984
13985
13986
13987
13988
13989
13990
13991
13992
13993
13994
13995
13996
13997
13998
13999
14000
14001
14002
14003
14004
14005
14006
14007
14008
14009
14010
14011
14012
14013
14014
14015
14016
14017
14018
14019
14020
14021
14022
14023
14024
14025
14026
14027
14028
14029
14030
14031
14032
14033
14034
14035
14036
14037
14038
14039
14040
14041
14042
14043
14044
14045
14046
14047
14048
14049
14050
14051
14052
14053
14054
14055
14056
14057
14058
14059
14060
14061
14062
14063
14064
14065
14066
14067
14068
14069
14070
14071
14072
14073
14074
14075
14076
14077
14078
14079
14080
14081
14082
14083
14084
14085
14086
14087
14088
14089
14090
14091
14092
14093
14094
14095
14096
14097
14098
14099
14100
14101
14102
14103
14104
14105
14106
14107
14108
14109
14110
14111
14112
14113
14114
14115
14116
14117
14118
14119
14120
14121
14122
14123
14124
14125
14126
14127
14128
14129
14130
14131
14132
14133
14134
14135
14136
14137
14138
14139
14140
14141
14142
14143
14144
14145
14146
14147
14148
14149
14150
14151
14152
14153
14154
14155
14156
14157
14158
14159
14160
14161
14162
14163
14164
14165
14166
14167
14168
14169
14170
14171
14172
14173
14174
14175
14176
14177
14178
14179
14180
14181
14182
14183
14184
14185
14186
14187
14188
14189
14190
14191
14192
14193
14194
14195
14196
14197
14198
14199
14200
14201
14202
14203
14204
14205
14206
14207
14208
14209
14210
14211
14212
14213
14214
14215
14216
14217
14218
14219
14220
14221
14222
14223
14224
14225
14226
14227
14228
14229
14230
14231
14232
14233
14234
14235
14236
14237
14238
14239
14240
14241
14242
14243
14244
14245
14246
14247
14248
14249
14250
14251
14252
14253
14254
14255
14256
14257
14258
14259
14260
14261
14262
14263
14264
14265
14266
14267
14268
14269
14270
14271
14272
14273
14274
14275
14276
14277
14278
14279
14280
14281
14282
14283
14284
14285
14286
14287
14288
14289
14290
14291
14292
14293
14294
14295
14296
14297
14298
14299
14300
14301
14302
14303
14304
14305
14306
14307
14308
14309
14310
14311
14312
14313
14314
14315
14316
14317
14318
14319
14320
14321
14322
14323
14324
14325
14326
14327
14328
14329
14330
14331
14332
14333
14334
14335
14336
14337
14338
14339
14340
14341
14342
14343
14344
14345
14346
14347
14348
14349
14350
14351
14352
14353
14354
14355
14356
14357
14358
14359
14360
14361
14362
14363
14364
14365
14366
14367
14368
14369
14370
14371
14372
14373
14374
14375
14376
14377
14378
14379
14380
14381
14382
14383
14384
14385
14386
14387
14388
14389
14390
14391
14392
14393
14394
14395
14396
14397
14398
14399
14400
14401
14402
14403
14404
14405
14406
14407
14408
14409
14410
14411
14412
14413
14414
14415
14416
14417
14418
14419
14420
14421
14422
14423
14424
14425
14426
14427
14428
14429
14430
14431
14432
14433
14434
14435
14436
14437
14438
14439
14440
14441
14442
14443
14444
14445
14446
14447
14448
14449
14450
14451
14452
14453
14454
14455
14456
14457
14458
14459
14460
14461
14462
14463
14464
14465
14466
14467
14468
14469
14470
14471
14472
14473
14474
14475
14476
14477
14478
14479
14480
14481
14482
14483
14484
14485
14486
14487
14488
14489
14490
14491
14492
14493
14494
14495
14496
14497
14498
14499
14500
14501
14502
14503
14504
14505
14506
14507
14508
14509
14510
14511
14512
14513
14514
14515
14516
14517
14518
14519
14520
14521
14522
14523
14524
14525
14526
14527
14528
14529
14530
14531
14532
14533
14534
14535
14536
14537
14538
14539
14540
14541
14542
14543
14544
14545
14546
14547
14548
14549
14550
14551
14552
14553
14554
14555
14556
14557
14558
14559
14560
14561
14562
14563
14564
14565

<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
<HTML>
<HEAD>
<TITLE>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Pictures Every Child Should Know, by Dolores Bacon</TITLE>
<META HTTP-EQUIV="content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1">
</HEAD>
<BODY>
<H1>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Pictures Every Child Should Know, by Dolores Bacon</H1>

<PRE>
Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.

This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
Gutenberg file.  Please do not remove it.  Do not change or edit the
header without written permission.

Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file.  Included is
important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
how the file may be used.  You can also find out about how to make a
donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.


**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**

**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**

*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****


Title: Pictures Every Child Should Know

Author: Dolores Bacon

Release Date: November, 2004  [EBook #6932]
[This file was first posted on February 12, 2003]

Edition: 10

Language: English

Character set encoding: iso-8859-1

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PICTURES EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW ***




Arno Peters, Branko Collin, Tiffany Vergon, Charles Aldarondo, Charles

Franks,  and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team



</PRE>
<p><a name="001"></a>
PICTURES
EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW</p>

<p>A SELECTION OF THE WORLD'S ART<br>
MASTERPIECES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE</p>

<p>BY<br>
DOLORES BACON</p>

<p>Illustrated from
Great Paintings 
<a name="002"></a>
 
<a name="003"></a></p>
<h1>ACKNOWLEDGMENTS</h1>

<p>Besides making acknowledgments to the
many authoritative writers upon artists and
pictures, here quoted, thanks are due to
such excellent compilers of books on art
subjects as Sadakichi Hartmann, Muther,
C. H. Caffin, Ida Prentice Whitcomb,
Russell Sturgis and others. 
<a name="004"></a></p>

<h1>INTRODUCTION</h1>

<p>Man's inclination to decorate his belongings
has always been one of the earliest signs of
civilisation. Art had its beginning in the lines
indented in clay, perhaps, or hollowed in the
wood of family utensils; after that came crude
colouring and drawing.</p> 

<p>Among the first serious efforts to draw were
the Egyptian square and pointed things, animals
and men. The most that artists of that
day succeeded in doing was to preserve the
fashions of the time. Their drawings tell us
that men wore their beards in bags. They
show us, also, many peculiar head-dresses and
strange agricultural implements. Artists of
that day put down what they saw, and they
saw with an untrained eye and made the record
with an untrained hand; but they did not put
in false details for the sake of glorifying the
subject. One can distinguish a man from a
mountain in their work, but the arms and legs
embroidered upon Mathilde's tapestry, or the
figures representing family history on an Oriental
rug, are quite as correct in drawing and as
little of a puzzle. As men became more intelligent,
hence spiritualised, they began to
express themselves in ideal ways; to glorify
the commonplace; and thus they passed from 
<a name="005"></a>
Egyptian geometry to gracious lines and beautiful 
colouring.</p> 

<p>Indian pottery was the first development
of art in America and it led to the working
of metals, followed by drawing and portraiture.
Among the Americans, as soon as that term
ceased to mean Indians, art took a most distracting
turn. Europe was old in pictures,
great and beautiful, when America was worshipping
at the shrine of the chromo; but the
chromo served a good turn, bad as it was. It
was a link between the black and white of
the admirable wood-cut and the true colour
picture.</p> 

<p>Some of the Colonists brought over here the
portraits of their ancestors, but those paintings
could not be considered "American" art, nor
were those early settlers Americans; but the
generation that followed gave to the world
Benjamin West. He left his Mother Country
for England, where he found a knighthood and
honours of every kind awaiting him.</p> 

<p>The earliest artists of America had to go
away to do their work, because there was no
place here for any men but those engaged in
clearing land, planting corn, and fighting
Indians. Sir Benjamin West was President of
the Royal Academy while America was still
revelling in chromos. The artists who remained
chose such objects as Davy Crockett
in the trackless forest, or made pictures of the
Continental Congress.</p> 

<p><a name="006"></a>
After the chromo in America came the picture
known as the "buckeye," painted by relays
of artists. Great canvases were stretched
and blocked off into lengths. The scene was
drawn in by one man, who was followed by
"artists," each in turn painting sky, water,
foliage, figures, according to his specialty.
Thus whole yards of canvas could be painted
in a day, with more artists to the square inch
than are now employed to paint advertisements
on a barn.</p> 

<p>The Centennial Exhibition of 1876 came as
a glorious flashlight. For the first time real
art was seen by a large part of our nation.
Every farmer took home with him a new idea
of the possibilities of drawing and colour.
The change that instantly followed could
have occurred in no other country than the
United States, because no other people would
have travelled from the four points of the
compass to see such an exhibition. Thus it
was the American's <i>penchant</i> for travel which
first opened to him the art world, for he
was conscious even then of the educational
advantages to be found somewhere, although
there seemed to be few of them in the
United States.</p> 

<p>After the Centennial arose a taste for the
painting of "plaques," upon which were the
heads of ladies with strange-coloured hair;
of leather-covered flatirons bearing flowers
of unnatural colour, or of shovels decorated 
<a name="007"></a>
with "snow scenes." The whole nation began
to revel in "art." It was a low variety, yet
it started toward a goal which left the chromo
at the rear end of the course, and it was a better
effort than the mottoes worked in worsted,
which had till then been the chief decoration
in most homes. If the "buckeye" was hand-painting,
this was "single-hand" painting,
and it did not take a generation to bring the
change about, only a season. After the Philadelphia
exhibition the daughter of the household
"painted a little" just as she played the
piano "a little." To-day, much less than a
man's lifetime since then, there is in America
a universal love for refined art and a fair technical
appreciation of pictures, while already
the nation has worthily contributed to the
world of artists. Sir Benjamin West, Sully,
and Sargent are ours: Inness, Inman, and
Trumbull.</p> 

<p>The curator of the Metropolitan Museum in
New York has declared that portrait-painting
must be the means which shall save the modern
artists from their sins. To quote him: "An
artist may paint a bright green cow, if he is so
minded: the cow has no redress, the cow must
suffer and be silent; but human beings who
sit for portraits seem to lean toward portraits
in which they can recognise their own features
when they have commissioned an artist to
paint them. A man <i>will</i> insist upon even the
most brilliant artist painting him in trousers, 
<a name="008"></a>
for instance, instead of in petticoats, however
the artist-whim may direct otherwise; and a
woman is likely to insist that the artist who
paints her portrait shall maintain some recognised
shade of brown or blue or gray when he
paints her eye, instead of indulging in a burnt
orange or maybe pink! These personal preferences
certainly put a limit to an artist's
genius and keep him from writing himself down
a madman. Thus, in portrait-painting, with
the exactions of truth upon it, lies the hope
of art-lovers!"</p>

<p>It is the same authority who calls attention
to the danger that lies in extremes; either in
finding no value in art outside the "old masters,"
or in admiring pictures so impressionistic
that the objects in them need to be labelled
before they can be recognised.</p> 

<p>The true art-lover has a catholic taste, is
interested in all forms of art; but he finds
beauty where it truly exists and does not allow
the nightmare of imagination to mislead him.
That which is not beautiful from one point of
view or another is not art, but decadence.
That which is technical to the exclusion of
other elements remains technique pure and
simple, workmanship--the bare bones of art.
A thing is not art simply because it is fantastic.
It may be interesting as showing to what degree
some imaginations can become diseased, but
it is not pleasing nor is it art. There are fully
a thousand pictures that every child should 
<a name="009"></a>
know, since he can hardly know too much
of a good thing; but there is room in this
volume only to acquaint him with forty-eight
and possibly inspire him with the wish to
look up the neglected nine hundred and
fifty-two. 
<a name="010"></a></p>

<h1>CONTENTS</h1>

<p>INTRODUCTION</p>

<p>I. Andrea del Sarto, Florentine School, 1486-1531</p>

<p>II. Michael Angelo (Buonarroti), Florentine School, 1475-1564</p>

<p>III. Arnold Böcklin, Modern German School, 1827-1901</p>

<p>IV. Marie-Rosa Bonheur, French School, 1822-1899</p>

<p>V. Alessandro Botticelli, Florentine School, 1447-1510</p>

<p>VI. William Adolphe Bouguereau, French (Genre) School 1825-1905</p>

<p>VII. Sir Edward Burne-Jones, English (Pre-Raphaelite) School, 1833-1898</p>

<p>VIII. John Constable, English School, 1776-1837</p>

<p>IX. John Singleton Copley, English School, 1737-1815</p>

<p>X. Jean Baptiste Camille Corot, Fontainebleau-Barbizon
School, 1796-1875</p>

<p>XI. Correggio (Antonio Allegri), School of Parma, 1494(?)--1534</p>

<p><a name="011"></a>
XII. Paul Gustave Doré, French 
School, 1833-1883</p>

<p>XIII. Albrecht Dürer, Nuremberg 
School, 1471-1528</p>

<p>XIV. Mariano Fortuny, Spanish 
School, 1838-1874</p>

<p>XV. Thomas Gainsborough, English
School, 1727-1788</p>

<p>XVI. Jean Léon Gérôme, French
Semi-classical School, 1824-1904</p>

<p>XVII. Ghirlandajo, Florentine 
School, 1449-1494</p>

<p>XVIII. Giotto (di Bordone), Florentine
School, 1276-1337</p>

<p>XIX. Franz Hals, Dutch School, 
1580-84-1666</p>

<p>XX. Meyndert Hobbema, Dutch 
School, 1637-1709</p>

<p>XXI. William Hogarth, School of
Hogarth (English), 1697-1764</p>

<p>XXII. Hans Holbein, the Younger, 
German School, 1497-1543</p>

<p>XXIII. William Holman Hunt,
English (Pre-Raphaelite)
School, 1827-</p>

<p>XXIV. George Inness, American, 
1825-1897</p>

<p>XXV. Sir Edwin Henry Landseer, 
English School, 1802-1873</p>

<p>XXVI. Claude Lorrain (Gellée), Classical
French School, 1600-1682</p>

<p><a name="012"></a>
XXVII. Masaccio (Tommaso Guidi), Florentine School, 1401-1428</p>

<p>XXVIII. Jean Louis Ernest Meissonier, French School, 1815-1891</p>

<p>XXIX. Jean François Millet, Fontainebleau-Barbizon School, 1814-1875</p>

<p>XXX. Claude Monet, Impressionist  School of France, 1840-</p>

<p>XXXI. Murillo (Bartolomé Estéban), Andalusian School, 1617-1682</p>

<p>XXXII. Raphael (Sanzio), Umbrian, Florentine, and Roman 
Schools, 1483-1520</p>

<p>XXXIII. Rembrandt (Van Rijn), Dutch School, 1606-1669</p>

<p>XXXIV. Sir Joshua Reynolds, English School, 1723-1792</p>

<p>XXXV. Peter Paul Rubens, Flemish School, 1577-1640</p>

<p>XXXVI. John Singer Sargent, American and Foreign Schools,
1856-</p>

<p>XXXVII. Tintoretto (Jacopo Robusti), Venetian School, 1518-1594</p>

<p>XXXVIII. Titian (Tiziano Vecelli), Venetian School, 1489-1576</p>

<p>XXXIX. Joseph Mallord William Turner, English, 1775-1831</p>

<p><a name="013"></a>
XL. Sir Anthony Van Dyck,
Flemish School, 1599-1641</p>

<p>XLI. Velasquez (Diego Rodriguez
de Silva), Castilian School,
1599-1660</p> 

<p>XLII. Paul Veronese (Paolo Cagliari),
Venetian School,
1528-1588.</p> 

<p>XLIII. Leonardo da Vinci, Florentine
School, 1452-1519.</p> 

<p>XLIV. Jean Antoine Watteau,
French (Genre) School,
1684-1721</p> 

<p>XLV. Sir Benjamin West, American,
1738-1820</p> 

<p>Index 
<a name="014"></a></p>

<h1>ILLUSTRATIONS</h1>

<p><a href="400.jpg"><img src="thumb_400.jpg" alt=""><br>
FRONTISPIECE</a></p>

<p><a href="401.jpg"><img src="thumb_401.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Avenue, Middleharnis, Holland--<i>Hobbema</i></a></p>

<p><a href="402.jpg"><img src="thumb_402.jpg" alt=""><br>
Madonna of the Sack--<i>Andrea del Sarto</i></a></p>

<p><a href="428.jpg"><img src="thumb_428.jpg" alt=""><br>
Daniel--<i>Michael Angelo (Buonarroti)</i></a></p>

<p><a href="427.jpg"><img src="thumb_427.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Isle of the Dead--<i>Arnold Böcklin</i></a></p>

<p><a href="429.jpg"><img src="thumb_429.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Horse Fair--<i>Rosa Bonheur</i></a></p>

<p><a href="430.jpg"><img src="thumb_430.jpg" alt=""><br>
Spring--<i>Alessandro Botticelli</i></a></p>

<p><a href="403.jpg"><img src="thumb_403.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Hay Wain--<i>John Constable</i></a></p>

<p><a href="404.jpg"><img src="thumb_404.jpg" alt=""><br>
A Family Picture--<i>John Singleton Copley</i></a></p>

<p><a href="405.jpg"><img src="thumb_405.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Holy Night--<i>Correggio (Antonio Allegri)</i></a></p>

<p><a href="406.jpg"><img src="thumb_406.jpg" alt=""><br>
Dance of the Nymphs--<i>Jean Baptiste Camille Corot</i></a></p>

<p><a href="407.jpg"><img src="thumb_407.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Virgin as Consoler--<i>Wm. Adolphe Bouguereau</i></a></p>

<p><a href="408.jpg"><img src="thumb_408.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Love Song--<i>Sir Edward Burne-Jones</i></a></p>

<p><a href="409.jpg"><img src="thumb_409.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Mystic Marriage of St. Catherine--<i>Correggio</i></a></p>

<p><a href="410.jpg"><img src="thumb_410.jpg" alt=""><br>
Moses Breaking the Tablets of the Law--<i>Paul Gustave Doré</i></a></p>

<p><a href="412.jpg"><img src="thumb_412.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Nativity--<i>Albrecht Dürer</i></a></p>

<p><a href="411.jpg"><img src="thumb_411.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Spanish Marriage--<i>Mariana Fortuny</i></a></p>

<p><a href="413.jpg"><img src="thumb_413.jpg" alt=""><br>
Mrs. Richard Brinsley Sheridan--<i>Thomas Gainsborough</i></a></p>

<p><a href="414.jpg"><img src="thumb_414.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Sword Dance--<i>Jean Léon Gérôme</i></a></p>

<p><a href="415.jpg"><img src="thumb_415.jpg" alt=""><br>
Portrait of Giovanna degli Albizi--<i>Ghirlandajo (Domenico Bigordi)</i></a></p>

<p><a href="417.jpg"><img src="thumb_417.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Nurse and the Child--<i>Franz Hals</i></a></p>

<p><a href="416.jpg"><img src="thumb_416.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Meeting of St. John and St. Anna at Jerusalem--<i>Giotto (Di
Bordone)</i></a></p>

<p><a href="418.jpg"><img src="thumb_418.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Avenue--<i>Meyndert Hobbema</i></a></p>

<p><a href="419.jpg"><img src="thumb_419.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Marriage Contract--<i>Wm. Hogarth</i></a></p>

<p><a href="421.jpg"><img src="thumb_421.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Light of the World--<i>William Holman Hunt</i></a></p>

<p><a href="420.jpg"><img src="thumb_420.jpg" alt=""><br>
Robert Cheseman with his Falcon--<i>Hans Holbein, the
Younger</i></a></p>

<p><a href="422.jpg"><img src="thumb_422.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Berkshire Hills--<i>George Inness</i></a></p>

<p><a href="423.jpg"><img src="thumb_423.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Old Shepherd's Chief Mourner--<i>Sir Edwin Henry
Landseer</i></a></p>

<p><a href="425.jpg"><img src="thumb_425.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Artist's Portrait--<i>Tommaso Masaccio</i></a></p>

<p><a href="424.jpg"><img src="thumb_424.jpg" alt=""><br>
Acis and Galatea--<i>Claude Lorrain</i></a></p>

<p><a href="426.jpg"><img src="thumb_426.jpg" alt=""><br>
Retreat from Moscow--<i>Jean Louis Ernest Meissonier</i></a></p>

<p><a href="434.jpg"><img src="thumb_434.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Angelus--<i>Jean François Millet</i></a></p>

<p><a href="432.jpg"><img src="thumb_432.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Immaculate Conception--<i>Murillo (Bartolomé Estéban)</i></a></p>

<p><a name="016"></a><a href="433.jpg"><img src="thumb_433.jpg" alt=""><br>
Haystack in Sunshine--<i>Claude Monet</i></a></p>

<p><a href="431.jpg"><img src="thumb_431.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Sistine Madonna--<i>Raphael (Sanzio)</i></a></p>

<p><a href="436.jpg"><img src="thumb_436.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Night Watch--<i>Rembrandt (Van Rijn)</i></a></p>

<p><a href="435.jpg"><img src="thumb_435.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Duchess of Devonshire and Her Daughter--<i>Sir Joshua
Reynolds</i></a></p>

<p><a href="438.jpg"><img src="thumb_438.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Infant Jesus and St. John--<i>Peter Paul Rubens</i></a></p>

<p><a href="437.jpg"><img src="thumb_437.jpg" alt=""><br>
Carmencita--<i>John Singer Sargent</i></a></p>

<p><a href="440.jpg"><img src="thumb_440.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Miracle of St. Mark--<i>Tintoretto (Jacopo Robusti)</i></a></p>

<p><a href="439.jpg"><img src="thumb_439.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Artist's Daughter, Lavinia--<i>Titian (Tiziano
Vecelli)</i></a></p>

<p><a href="442.jpg"><img src="thumb_442.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Fighting Téméraire--<i>Joseph Mallord William Turner</i></a></p>

<p><a href="441.jpg"><img src="thumb_441.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Children of Charles the First--<i>Sir Anthony Van Dyck</i></a></p>

<p><a href="445.jpg"><img src="thumb_445.jpg" alt=""><br>
Equestrian Portrait of Don Balthasar Carlos--<i>Velasquez (Diego
Rodriguez de Silva)</i></a></p>

<p><a href="444.jpg"><img src="thumb_444.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Marriage at Cana--<i>Paul Veronese</i></a></p>

<p><a href="443.jpg"><img src="thumb_443.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Death of Wolfe--<i>Sir Benjamin West</i></a></p>

<p><a href="446.jpg"><img src="thumb_446.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Artist's Two Sons--<i>Peter Paul Rubens</i></a></p>

<p><a href="448.jpg"><img src="thumb_448.jpg" alt=""><br>
The Last Supper--<i>Leonardo da Vinci</i></a></p>

<p><a href="447.jpg"><img src="thumb_447.jpg" alt=""><br>
Fête Champêtre--<i>Jean Antoine Watteau</i></a></p>

<p><a href="449.jpg"><img src="thumb_449.jpg" alt=""></a><a name="017"></a></p>

<h1>I</h1>

<h1>ANDREA DEL SARTO</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Ahn'dray-ah del Sar'to)<br>
<i>Florentine School</i><br>
1486-1531<br>
<i>Pupil of Piero di Cosimo</i></center>

<p>Italian painters received their names in
peculiar ways. This man's father was a
tailor; and the artist was named after his
father's profession. He was in fact "the
Tailor's Andrea," and his father's name was
Angelo.</p> 

<p>One story of this brilliant painter which
reads from first to last like a romance has been
told by the poet, Browning, who dresses up
fact so as to smother it a little, but there is
truth at the bottom.</p> 

<p>Andrea married a wife whom he loved
tenderly. She had a beautiful face that
seemed full of spirituality and feeling, and
Andrea painted it over and over again. The
artist loved his work and dreamed always of
the great things that he should do; but he was
so much in love with his wife that he was
dependent on her smile for all that he did
which was well done, and her frown plunged
him into despair.</p> 

<p>Andrea's wife cared nothing for his genius, 
<a name="018"></a>
painting did not interest her, and she had no
worthy ambition for her husband, but she
loved fine clothes and good living, and so
encouraged him enough to keep him earning
these things for her. As soon as some money
was made she would persuade him to work no
more till it was spent; and even when he had
made agreements to paint certain pictures
for which he was paid in advance she would
torment him till he gave all of his time to her
whims, neglected his duty and spent the
money for which he had rendered no service.
Thus in time he became actually dishonest, as
we shall see. It is a sad sort of story to tell
of so brilliant a young man.</p> 

<p>Andrea was born in the Gualfonda quarter
of Florence, and there is some record of his
ancestors for a hundred years before that,
although their lives were quite unimportant.
Andrea was one of four children, and as usual
with Italians of artistic temperament, he was
set to work under the eye of a goldsmith. This
craftsmanship of a fine order was as near to
art as a man could get with any certainty of
making his living. It was a time when the
Italian world bedecked itself with rare golden
trinkets, wreaths for women's hair, girdles,
brooches, and the like, and the finest skill was
needed to satisfy the taste. Thus it required
talent of no mean order for a man to become a
successful goldsmith.</p> 

<p>Andrea did not like the work, and instead 
<a name="019"></a>
of fashioning ornaments from his master's
models he made original drawings which did
not do at all in a shop where an apprentice was
expected to earn his salt. Certain fashions
had to be followed and people did not welcome
fantastic or new designs. Because of this,
Andrea was early put out of his master's shop
and set to learn the only business that he could
be got to learn, painting. This meant for him
a very different teacher from the goldsmith.</p> 

<p>The artist may be said to have been his own
master, because, even when he was apprenticed
to a painter he was taught less than he already
knew.</p> 

<p>That first teacher was Barile, a coarse and
unpleasing man, as well as an incapable one;
but he was fair minded, after a fashion, and
put Andrea into the way of finding better
help. After a few years under the direction
of Piero di Cosimo, Andrea and a friend,
Francia Bigio, decided to set up shop for
themselves.</p> 

<p>The two devoted friends pitched their tent
in the Piazza del Grano, and made a meagre
beginning out of which great things were to
grow. They began a series of pictures which
was to lead at least one of them to fame. It
was in the little Piazza, del Grano studio that
the "Baptism of Christ" was painted, a partnership
work that had been planned in the Campagnia
dello Scalzo.</p>

<p>"The Baptism" was not much of a picture 
<a name="020"></a>
as great pictures go, but it was a beginning and
it was looked at and talked about, which was
something at a time when Titian and Leonardo
had set the standard of great work. In the
Piazza del Grano, Andrea and his friend lived
in the stables of the Tuscan Grand Dukes,
with a host of other fine artists, and they had
gay times together.</p> 

<p>Andrea was a shy youth, a little timid, and
by no means vain of his own work, but he
painted with surprising swiftness and sureness,
and had a very brilliant imagination. Its
was his main trouble that he had more imagination
than true manhood; he sacrificed everything
good to his imagination.</p> 

<p>After the partnership with his friend, he
undertook to paint some frescoes independently,
and that work earned for him the name of
"Andrea senza Errori"--Andrea the Unerring.
Then, as now, each artist had his own way of
working, and Andrea's was perhaps the most
difficult of all, yet the most genius-like. There
were those, Michael Angelo for example, who
laid in backgrounds for their paintings; but
Andrea painted his subject upon the wet
plaster, precisely as he meant it to be when
finished.</p> 

<p>He was unlike the moody Michael Angelo;
unlike the gentle Raphael; unlike the fastidious
Van Dyck who came long afterward; he was
hail-fellow-well-met among his associates,
though often given over to dreaminess. He 
<a name="021"></a>
belonged to a jolly club named the "Kettle
Club," literally, the Company of the Kettle;
and to another called "The Trowel," both
suggesting an all around good time and much
good fellowship The members of these clubs
were expected to contribute to their wonderful
suppers, and Andrea on one occasion made a
great temple, in imitation of the Baptistry,
of jelly with columns of sausages, white birds
and pigeons represented the choir and priests.
Besides being "Andrew the Unerring," and a
"Merry Andrew," he was also the "Tailor's
Andrew," a man in short upon whom a nickname
sat comfortably. He helped to make
the history of the "Company of the Kettle,"
for he recited and probably composed a
touching ballad called "The Battle of the Mice
and the Frogs," which doubtless had its
origin in a poem of Homer's. But all at once,
in the midst of his gay careless life came his
tragedy; he fell in love with a hatter's wife.
This was quite bad enough, but worse was to
come, for the hatter shortly died, and the
widow was free to marry Andrea.</p> 

<p>After his marriage Andrea began painting
a series of Madonnas, seemingly for no better
purpose than to exhibit his wife's beauty over
and over again. He lost his ambition and
forgot everything but his love for this unworthy
woman. She was entirely commonplace,
incapable of inspiring true genius or
honesty of purpose.</p> 

<p><a name="022"></a>
A great art critic, Vasari, who was Andrea's
pupil during this time, has written that the
wife, Lucretia, was abominable in every way.
A vixen, she tormented Andrea from morning
till night with her bitter tongue. She did not
love him in the least, but only what his money
could buy for her, for she was extravagant,
and drove the sensitive artist to his grave
while she outlived him forty years.</p> 

<p>About the time of the artist's marriage he
painted one fresco, "The Procession of the
Magi," in which he placed a very splendid
substitute for his wife, namely himself. Afterward
he painted the Dead Christ which found
its way to France and it laid the foundation
for Andrea's wrongdoing. This picture was
greatly admired by the King of France who
above all else was a lover of art. Francis I.
asked Andrea to go to his court, as he had
commissions for him. He made Andrea a
money offer and to court he went.</p> 

<p>He took a pupil with him, but he left his
wife at home. At the court of Francis I.
he was received with great honours, and amid
those new and gracious surroundings, away
from the tantalising charms of his wife and her
shrewish tongue, he began to have an honest
ambition to do great things. His work for
France was undertaken with enthusiasm, but
no sooner was he settled and at peace, than the
irrepressible wife began to torment him with
letters to return. Each letter distracted him 
<a name="023"></a>
more and more, till he told the King in his
despair, that he must return home, but that
he would come back to France and continue
his work, almost at once. Francis I., little
suspecting the cause of Andrea's uneasiness,
gave him permission to go, and also a large
sum of money to spend upon certain fine
works of art which he was to bring back to
France.</p> 

<p>We can well believe that Andrea started
back to his home with every good intention;
that he meant to appease his wife and also
his own longing to see her; to buy the King
his pictures with the money entrusted to him,
and to return to France and finish his work;
but, alas, he no sooner got back to his wife
than his virtuous purpose fled. She wanted
this; she wanted that--and especially she
wanted a fine house which could just about be
built for the sum of money which the King of
France had entrusted to Andrea.</p> 

<p>Andrea is a pitiable figure, but he was also
a vagabond, if we are to believe Vasari. He
took the King's money, built his wretched
wife a mansion, and never again dared return
to France, where his dishonesty made him
forever despised.</p> 

<p>Afterward he was overwhelmed with despair
for what he had done, and he tried to make
his peace with Francis; but while that monarch
did not punish him directly for his knavery;
he would have no more to do with him, and 
<a name="024"></a>
this was the worst punishment the artist
could have had. However, his genius was so
great that other than French people forgot
his dishonesty and he began life anew in his
native place.</p> 

<p>Almost all his pictures were on sacred
subjects; and finally, when driven from
Florence to Luco by the plague, taking with
him his wife and stepdaughter, he began a
picture called the "Madonna del Sacco" (the
Madonna of the Sack).</p> 

<p>This fresco was to adorn the convent of the
Servi, and the sketches for it were probably
made in Luco. When the plague passed and
the artist was able to return to Florence, he
began to paint it upon the cloister walls.</p> 

<p>Andrea, like Leonardo, painted a famous
"Last Supper," although the two pictures
cannot be compared. In Andrea's picture it
is said that all the faces are portraits.</p> 

<p>Just before the plague sent him and his
family from Florence a most remarkable
incident took place. Raphael had painted a
celebrated portrait of Pope Leo X. in a group,
and the picture belonged to Ottaviano de
Medici. Duke Frederick II., of Mantua, longed
to own this picture, and at last requested the
Medici to give it to him. The Duke could
not well be refused, but Ottaviano wanted to
keep so great a work for himself. What was
to be done? He was in great trouble over the
affair. The situation seemed hopeless. It 
<a name="025"></a>
seemed certain that he must part with his
beloved picture to the Duke of Mantua; but
one day Andrea del Sarto declared that he
could make a copy of it that even Raphael
himself could not tell from his original. Ottaviano
could scarcely believe this, but he begged
Andrea to set about it, hoping that it might be
true.</p> 

<p>Going at the work in good earnest, Andrea
painted a copy so exact that the pupil of
Raphael, who had more or less to do with the
original picture, could not tell which was which
when he was asked to choose. This pupil,
Giulio Romano, was so familiar with every
stroke of Raphael's that if he were deceived
surely any one might be; so the replica was
given to the Duke of Mantua, who never
found out the difference.</p> 

<p>Years afterward Giulio Romano showed the
picture to Vasari, believing it to be the original
Raphael, neither Andrea nor the Medici
having told Romano the truth. But Vasari,
who knew the whole story, declared to Romano
that what he showed him was but a copy.
Romano would not believe it, but Vasari told
him that he would find upon the canvas a
certain mark, known to be Andrea's. Romano
looked, and behold, the original Raphael
became a del Sarto! The original picture
hangs in the Pitti Palace, while the copy
made by Andrea is in the Naples Gallery.</p> 

<p>The introduction of Andrea to Vasari was 
<a name="026"></a>
one of the few gracious things, that Michael
Angelo ever did. About Andrea he said to
Raphael at the time: "There is a little
fellow in Florence who will bring sweat to
your brows if ever he is engaged in great
works." Raphael, would certainly have agreed,
with him had he known what was to happen
in regard to the Leo X. picture.</p> 

<p>Notwithstanding Andrea's unfortunate temperament,
which caused him to be guided
mostly by circumstances instead of guiding
them, he was said to be improving all the
time in his art. He had a great many pupils,
but none of them could tolerate his wife for
long, so they were always changing.</p> 

<p>Throughout his life the artist longed for
tenderness and encouragement from his wife,
and finally, without ever receiving it, he died
in a desolate way, untended even by her.
After the siege of Florence there came a
pestilence, and Andrea was overtaken by it.
His wife, afraid that she too would become ill,
would have nothing to do with him. She kept
away and he died quite alone, few caring that
he was dead and no one taking the trouble to
follow him to his grave. Thus one of the
greatest of Florentine painters lived and died.
Years after his death, the artist Jacopo da
Empoli, was copying Andrea's "Birth of the
Virgin" when an old woman of about eighty
years on her way to mass stopped to speak with
him. She pointed to the beautiful Virgin's 
<a name="027"></a>
face in the picture and said: "I am that
woman." And so she was--the widow of
the great Andrea. Though she had treated
him so cruelly, she was glad to have it known
that she was the widow of the dead genius.</p> 

<center><a href="402.jpg"><img src="thumb_402.jpg" alt=""><br>
PLATE--THE MADONNA DEL SACCO<br>
<i>(Madonna of the Sack)</i></a></center>

<p>This picture is a fresco in the cloister of the
Annunziata at Florence, and it is called "of
the sack" because Joseph is posed leaning
against a sack, a book open upon his knees.</p> 

<p>Doubtless the model for this Madonna is
Andrea del Sarto's abominable wife, but she
looks very sweet and simple in the picture.
The folds of Mary's garments are beautifully
painted, so is the poise of her head, and all
the details of the picture except the figure of
the child. There is a line of stiffness there
and it lacks the softness of many other pictures
of the Infant Jesus.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE HOLY FAMILY</center>

<p>In this picture in the Pitti Palace, Florence,
Andrea del Sarto represents all the characters
in a serious mood. There are St. John and
Elizabeth, Mary and the Infant Jesus, and
there is no touch of playfulness such as may
be found in similar groups by other artists
of the time. Attention is concentrated upon
<a name="028"></a>
Jesus who seems to be learning from his
young cousin. The left hand, resting upon
Mary's arm is badly drawn and in character
does not seem to belong to the figure of the
child. A full, overhanging upper lip is a
dominant feature in each face.</p> 

<p>Other works of Andrea del Sarto are
"Charity," which is in the Louvre; "Madonna
dell' Arpie," "A Head of Christ," "The Dead
Christ," "Four Saints," "Joseph in Egypt,"
his own portrait, and "Joseph's Dream."</p>

<p><a name="029"></a></p>
<h1>II</h1>

<h1>MICHAEL ANGELO (BUONARROTI)</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Meek-el-ahn-jel-o (Bwone-ar-ro'tee))<br>
<i>Florentine School</i><br>
1475-1564<br>
<i>Pupil of Ghirlandajo</i></center>

<p>This wonderful man did more kinds of
things, at a time when almost all artists
were versatile, than any other but one. Probably
Leonardo da Vinci was gifted in as many
different ways as Michael Angelo, and in his
own lines was as powerful. This Florentine's
life was as tragic as it was restless.</p> 

<p>There is a tablet in a room of a castle which
stands high upon a rocky mount, near the
village of Caprese, which tells that Michael
Angelo was born in that place. The great
castle is now in ruins, and more than four
hundred years of fame have passed since the
little child was born therein.</p> 

<p>The unhappy existence of the artist seems
to have been foreshadowed by an accident
which happened to his mother before he
was born. She was on horseback, riding
with her husband to his official post at
Chiusi, for he was governor of Chiusi and
Caprese. Her horse stumbled, fell, and badly
hurt her. This was two months before 
<a name="030"></a>
Michael Angelo was born, and misfortune ever
pursued him.</p> 

<p>The father of Angelo was descended from an
aristocratic house--the Counts of Canossa
were his ancestors--and in that day the
profession of an artist was not thought to be
dignified. Hence the father had quite different
plans for the boy; but the son persisted and
at last had his way. When he was still a little
child his father finished his work as an official
at Caprese and returned to Florence; but he
left the little Angelo behind with his nurse.
That nurse was the wife of a stonemason, and
almost as soon as the boy could toddle he used
to wander about the quarries where the stonecutters
worked, and doubtless the baby joy
of Angelo was to play at chiseling as it is the
pleasure of modern babies to play at peg-top.
After a time he was sent for to go to Florence
to begin his education.</p> 

<p>In Florence he fell in with a young chap
who, like himself, loved art, but who was
fortunate enough already to be apprenticed
to the great painter of his time--Ghirlandajo.
One happy day this young Granacci volunteered
to take Michael Angelo to his master's studio,
and there Angelo made such an impression
on Ghirlandajo that he was urged by the
artist to become his pupil.</p> 

<p>All the world began to seem rose coloured to
the ambitious boy, and he started his life-work
with enthusiasm. At that time he was thirteen 
<a name="031"></a>
years old, full of hope and of love for his kind;
but his good fortune did not last long.
He had hardly settled to work in Ghirlandajo's
studio than his genius, which should have made
him beloved, made him hated by his master.
Angelo drew superior designs, created new art-ideas,
was more clever in all his undertakings
than any other pupil--even ahead of his
master; and almost at once Ghirlandajo became
furiously jealous. This enmity between pupil
and master was the beginning of Angelo's
many misfortunes.</p> 

<p>One day he got into a dispute with a
fellow student, Torregiano, who broke his nose.
This deformity alone was a tragedy to one
like Michael Angelo who loved everything
beautiful, yet must go through life knowing
himself to be ill-favoured.</p> 

<p>In height he was a little man, topped by
an abnormally large head which was part of the
penalty he had to pay for his talents. He
had a great, broad forehead, and an eye that
did not gleam nor express the beauty of his
creative mind, but was dull, and lustreless,
matching his broken, flattened nose. Indeed
he was a tragedy to himself. In the "History
of Painting" Muther describes his unhappy
disposition:</p> 

<p>"In his youthful years he never learned what
love meant. 'If thou wishest to conquer me,'
in old age he addresses love, 'give me back
my features, from which nature has removed 
<a name="032"></a>
all beauty.' Whenever in his sonnets he
speaks of passion, it is always of pain and tears,
of sadness and unrequited longing, never of the
fulfilment of his wishes."</p>

<p>Then, too, Michael Angelo had a quarrelsome
disposition, and he was harsh in his criticism
of others. He hated Leonardo da Vinci more
for his great physical beauty than for his
genius. He quarreled with most of his 
contemporaries, never joined the assemblies
of his brother artists, but dwelt altogether
apart. His was a gloomy and melancholy
disposition and he never found relief outside
his work.</p> 

<p>He was all kinds of an artist--poet, sculptor,
architect, painter--and although he worked
with the irregularity of true genius, he worked
indefatigably when once he began. It is said
that when he was making his "David" he
never removed his clothing the whole time he
was employed upon the work, but dropped
down when too exhausted to work more, and
slept wherever he fell.</p> 

<p>His first flight from the workshop of Ghirlandajo 
was to the gardens of the great
Florentine prince, Lorenzo de' Medici, who had
sent to Ghirlandajo for two of his best pupils.
He wished them to come to his gardens and
study the beautiful Greek statues which
ornamented them. The choice fell to Angelo
and Granacci. Probably those statues in
Lorenzo's garden were the first glimpses of 
<a name="033"></a>
really great art that Michael Angelo ever had.
Certain it is that he was overwhelmed with
happiness when he was given permission to
copy what he would, and at once he fell to work
with his chisel. His first work in that garden
was upon the head of an old faun; and Lorenzo,
walking by, curious to know to what use the
lad was putting his opportunity, made a
criticism:</p> 

<p>"You have made your faun old," he said,
"yet you have left all the teeth; at such an age,
generally the teeth are wanting."</p> 

<p>Angelo had nothing to say and the prince
walked on, but when next he came that way,
he found that Angelo had broken off two of the
faun's teeth; and this recognition of his
criticism pleased Lorenzo so much that he
invited Angelo to live with him. At first his
father objected. He felt himself to be an
aristocrat, and sculpture and painting were
indeed low occupations for his son, who he
had resolved should be nothing less than a
silk merchant. Nevertheless, the prince's
command, united with the son's pleading,
compelled the father to give up his cherished
dream of making a merchant of him, and
Angelo went to live in the palace.</p> 

<p>Then indeed what seemed a beautiful life
opened out. He was dressed in fine clothing,
dined with princes, and possibly he was grateful
to his patron. Some historians say so, and add
that when Lorenzo died Angelo wept, and 
<a name="034"></a>
returned sadly to his father's house to mourn,
but this tale seems at odds with what else we
know of Angelo's unangelic, envious and
bitter disposition. It is quite certain, however,
that with the death of Lorenzo, Angelo's,
fortunes became greatly changed. Another
prince followed in line--Pietro de' Medici--but 
he was a poor thing, who brought little
good to anybody. He had small use for
Michael Angelo's genius, but it is said that
he did give him one commission. After a
great storm one day, he asked him to make a
snow-man for him, and Angelo obligingly
complied. It was doubtless a very beautiful
snow-man, but although it was Angelo's
it melted in the night, even as if it had been
Johnny's or Tommy's snow-man, and left no
trace behind.</p> 

<p>In Rome there was a high and haughty pope
on the throne--Julius II.--who had probably
not his match for obstinacy and
haughtiness, excepting in the great painter
and sculptor. When Angelo went to Rome,
he was bound to come in conflict with Julius
for it was popes and princes who gave art any
reason for being in those days, and the Church
prescribed what kind of art should be cultivated.
Michael was to come directly under the
command of the pope and such a combination
promised trouble. Kings themselves had to
remove their crowns and hats to Julius, and
why not Michael Angelo? Yet there he stood, 
<a name="035"></a>
covered, before the pope, opposing his greatness
to that of the pope. Soderini says that
Angelo treated the pope as the king of France
never would have dared treat him; but Angelo
may have known that kings of France might
be born and die, times without number, while
there would never be born another Michael
Angelo. There could be nothing but antagonism
between Angelo and Julius, and soon after
the artist returned to Florence; but the
necessity for following his profession enabled
Julius to tame him after all, and it is said that
the pope led him back to Rome, later, "with
a halter about his neck." This must have
been agony to Angelo.</p> 

<p>Back in Rome, he was commissioned to make
a tomb for the pope. He had no sooner set
about the preliminaries--the getting of suitable
marble for his work--than he began to quarrel
with the men who were to hew it. When that
difficulty was settled, and the marble was got
out, he had a set-to with the shipowners
who were to transport the stone, and that row
became so serious that the sculptor was
besieged in his own house.</p> 

<p>At another and later time, when he was
engaged upon the frescoes of the Sistine
Chapel, he was made to work by force. He
accused the man who had built the scaffolding
upon which he must stand, or lie, to paint, of
planning his destruction. He suspected the
very assistants whom he, himself, had chosen 
<a name="036"></a>
to go from Florence, of having designs upon his
life. He locked the chapel against them, and
they had to turn away when they went to
begin work. Because of his insane suspicion
he did alone the enormous work of the frescoes.
Doubtless he was half mad, just as he was
wholly a genius.</p> 

<p>By the time he had finished those frescoes
he was so exhausted and overworked that
he wrote piteously to his people at home,
"I have not a friend in Rome, neither do I
wish nor have use for any." This of course
was not true; or he would not have made the
statement. "I hardly find time to take
nourishment. Not an ounce more can I bear
than already rests upon my shoulders." Even
when the work was done he felt no happiness
because of it, but complained about everything
and everybody.</p> 

<p>If Angelo thought this an unhappy day,
worse was in store for him. Julius II. died
and in his place there came to reign upon the
papal throne, Leo X. If Michael Angelo had
been restricted in his work before, he was
almost jailed under Leo X. Julius had been a
virile, forceful man, and Michael Angelo was
the same. Since he must be restrained and
dictated to, it was possible for the artist to
listen to a man who was in certain respects
strong like himself, but to be under the thumb
of a weak, effeminate person like Leo, was the
tragedy of tragedies to Angelo. That was a 
<a name="037"></a>
marvellous time in Rome. All its citizens had
become so pleasure-loving that the world, stood
still to wonder. When the pope banqueted,
he had the golden plates from which fair women
had eaten hurled into the Tiber, that they
might never be profaned by a less noble use
than they had known. From all this riot and
madness of pleasure, Michael Angelo stood
aside with frowning brow and scornful mien.
He approved of nothing and of nobody--despising
even Raphael, the gentle and loving
man whom the pleasure-crazed people of Rome
paused to smile upon and love. The pope
said that Angelo was "terrible," and that he
filled everybody with fear.</p> 

<p>Finally, Rome so resented his frowning looks
and his surly ways that work was provided
for him at a distance. He was sent to Florence
again to build a facade. While there, the city
was conquered, and Angelo was one who fought
for its freedom, but even so, he fled just at the
crisis. Thus he ever did the wrong thing--excepting
when he worked. In Florence he
had planned to do mighty things, but he never
accomplished any one of them. He planned
to make a wonderful colossal statue on a cliff
near Carrara, and also he resolved to make
the tomb of Julius the nucleus of a "forest of
statues."</p> 

<p>Michael Angelo never married, but he was
burdened with a family and all its cares.
He supported his brothers and even his 
<a name="038"></a>
nephews, and took care of his father. All of
those people came to him with their difficulties
and with their demands for money. He
chided, quarreled, repelled, yet met every
obligation. He would sit beside the sick-bed
of a servant the night through, but growl at the
demands of his near relatives--and it is not
unlikely that he had good reason.</p> 

<p>At last he withdrew himself from all human
society but that of little children, whom he
cared to speak with and to please. He would
have naught to do with men of genius like himself;
and when he fell from a scaffolding and injured
himself, the physician had to force his way
through a barred window, in order to get into
the sick man's presence to serve him.</p> 

<p>An illustration of his determined solitude
is given in the "Young People's Story of Art:"</p> 

<p>"There had long been lying idle in Florence
an immense block of marble. One hundred
years before a sculptor had tried to carve
something from it, but had failed. This was
now given to Michael Angelo. He was to be
paid twelve dollars a month, and to be allowed
two years in which to carve a statue. He
made his design in wax; and then built a
tower around the block, so that he might
work inside without being seen."</p> 

<p>Everything Angelo undertook bore the marks
of gigantic enterprise. Although he never
succeeded in making the tomb of Julius II.
the central piece in his forest of statues, the 
<a name="039"></a>
undertaking was marvellous enough. His
original plan was to make the tomb three
stories high and to ornament it with forty
statues, and if St. Peter's Church was large
enough to hold it, the work was to be placed
therein; but if not, a church was to be built
specially to hold the tomb. When at last,
in spite of his difficulties with workmen and
shipowners, the marbles were deposited in the
great square before St. Peter's, they filled the
whole place; and the pope, wishing to watch
the progress of the work and not himself to be
observed, had a covered way built from the
Vatican to the workshop of Angelo in the
square, by which he might come and go as he
chose, while an order was issued that the
sculptor was to be admitted at all times to
the Vatican. No sooner was this arrangement
completed than Angelo's enemies frightened
the pope by telling him there was danger in
making his tomb before his death; and with
these superstitions haunting him Julius II.
stopped the work, leaving Angelo without the
means to pay for his marbles. With the doors
of the Vatican closed to him, Angelo withdrew,
post haste to Florence--and who can blame
him? Nevertheless, the work was resumed
after infinite trouble on the pope's part. He
had to send again and again for Angelo and
after forty years, the work was finished.
There the sequel of the sculptor's forty-years
war with self and the world stands to-day in 
<a name="040"></a>
"Moses," the wonderful, commanding central
figure which seems to reflect all the fierce
power which Angelo had to keep in check
during a life-time.</p> 

<p>The command of Julius that he should paint
the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel aroused all his
fierce resistance. He did it under protest,
all the while accusing those about him of
having designs upon his life.</p> 

<p>"I am not a painter, but a sculptor," he said.</p> 

<p>"Such a man as thou is everything that he
wishes to be," the pope replied.</p> 

<p>"But this is an affair of Raphael. Give
him this room to paint and let me carve a
mountain!" But no, he must paint the
ceiling; but to render it easier for him the pope
told him he might fill in the spaces with saints,
and charge a certain amount for each. This
Angelo, who was first of all an artist, refused
to do. He would do the work rightly or not at
all. So he made his own plans and cut himself
a cardboard helmet, into the front of which
he thrust a candle, as if it were a Davy lamp,
and he lay upon his back to work day and
night at the hated task. During those months
he was compelled to look up so continually,
that never afterward was he able to look down
without difficulty. When he had finished the
work Julius had some criticisms to make.</p> 

<p>"Those dresses on your saints are such poor
things," he said. "Not rich enough--such
very poor things!"</p> 

<p><a name="041"></a>
"Well, they were poor things," was Angelo's
answer. "The saints did not wear golden
ornaments, nor gold on their garments."</p> 

<p>After Julius II. and Leo X. came Pope
Paul III., and he, like the other two, determined
to have Angelo for his workman. Indeed all
his life, Michael Angelo's gifts were commanded
by the Church of Rome. It was for Paul III.
he painted the "Last Judgment." His former
work upon the Sistine Chapel had been the
story of the creation. All his work was of a
mighty and allegorical nature; tremendous
shoulders, mighty limbs, herculean muscles
that seemed fit to support the universe. These
allegories are made of hundreds of figures.
To-day they are still there, though dimmed
by the smoke of centuries of incense, and
dismembered by the cracking of plaster and
disintegration of materials.</p> 

<p>Angelo's methods of work, as well as their
results, were oppressive. In his youth, while
trying to perfect himself in his study of the
human form, he drew or modelled, from
nude corpses. He had these conveyed by
stealth from the hospital into the convent of
Santo Spirito, where he had a cell and there
he worked, alone.</p> 

<p>He was concentrated, mentally and emotionally,
upon himself. The only remark he made
after the blow from Torregiano was, "You will
be remembered only as the man who broke
my nose!" This proved nearly true, since 
<a name="042"></a>
Torregiano was banished, and murdered by
the Spanish Inquisition.</p> 

<p>All sorts of anecdotes have floated through
the centuries concerning this man and his work.
For example, he made a statue of a sleeping
cupid, which was buried in the ground for a
time that it might assume the appearance of
age, and pass for an antique. Afterward it
was sold to the Cardinal San Giorgio for two
hundred ducats, though Michael Angelo
received only thirty. Nevertheless, he died a
rich man, after having cared for a numerous
family, while he himself lived like a man
without means. All the tranquillity he ever
knew he enjoyed in his old age.</p> 

<p>It was characteristic of his perversity that
he left his name upon nothing that he made,
with one exception. Vasari relates the story
of that exception:</p> 

<p>"The love and care which Michael Angelo
had given to this group, 'In Paradise,' were
such that he there left his name--a thing he
never did again for any work--on the cincture
which girdles the robe of Our Lady; for it
happened one day that Michael Angelo, entering
the place where it was erected, found a large
assemblage of strangers from Lombardy there,
who were praising it highly; one of them
asking who had done it, was told, 'our Hunchback
of Milan'; hearing which Michael Angelo
remained silent, although surprised that his
work should be attributed to another. But 
<a name="043"></a>
one night he repaired to St. Peter's with a light
and his chisels, to engrave his name on the
figure, which seems to breathe a spirit as perfect
as her form and countenance."</p>

<p>If his youth had been given to sculpture,
his maturity to the painting of wondrous
frescoes, so his old age was devoted to architecture,
and as architect he rebuilt the
decaying St. Peter's. In this work he felt
that he partly realised his ideal. Sculpture
meant more to him, "did more for the glory
of God," than any other form of art. When
he had finished his work on St. Peter's, he is said
to have looked upon it and exclaimed: "I
have hung the Pantheon in the air!"</p> 

<p>This colossal genius died in Rome, and was
carried by the light of torches from that city
back to his better loved Florence, where he
was buried. His tomb was made in the Santa
Croce, and upon it are three female figures
representing Michael Angelo's three wonderful
arts: Architecture, sculpture and painting.
No artist was greater than he.</p> 

<p>His will committed "his soul to God, his
body to the earth, and his property to his
nearest relatives."</p> 

<center>PLATE--DANIEL</center>

<p>This wonderful painting is a part of the
decoration of the Sistine Chapel in Rome.
The picture of the prophet tells so much in 
<a name="044"></a>
itself, that a description seems absurd. It is
enough to call attention to the powerful
muscles in the arm, the fall of the hand, and
then to speak of the main characteristics of the
artist's pictures.</p> 

<p>It is extraordinary that there is no blade of
grass to be found in any painting by Michael
Angelo. He loved to paint but one thing,
and that was the naked man, the powerful
muscles, or the twisted limbs of those in great
agony. He loved only to work upon vast
spaces of ceiling or wall. Look at this picture
of Daniel and see how like sculpture the
pose and modelling appear to be. First of all,
Michael Angelo was a sculptor, and most of
the painting which fate forced him to do has
the characteristics of sculpture.</p> 

<p>One critic has remarked that he loves to
think of this strange man sitting before the
marble quarry of Pietra Santa and thinking
upon all the beings hidden in the cliff--beings
which he should fashion from the marble.</p> 

<p>It was said that in Michael Angelo's hands
the Holy Family became a race of Titans, and
where others would have put plants or foliage,
Angelo placed men and naked limbs to fill the
space. When his subject made some sort of
herbage necessary, he invented a kind of
mediæval fern in place of grass and familiar
leaves. Everything appears brazen and hard
and mighty, suggestive of Angelo's own
throbbing spirit and maddened soul. Most 
<a name="045"></a>
of his work, when illustrated, must be shown
not as a whole but in sections, but one can
best mention them as entire picture themes.
On the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel are nine
frescoes describing "The Creation of The
World," "The Fall of Man" and "The Deluge."
"The Last Judgment" occupies the entire
altar wall in the same chapel of the Vatican.
"The Holy Family" is in the Uffizi Gallery,
Florence.</p> 

<p><a name="046"></a></p>
<h1>III</h1>

<h1>ARNOLD BÖCKLIN</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Bek'-lin)<br>
<i>Modern German School (Düsseldorf)</i><br>
1827-1901</center>

<p>This splendid artist is so lately dead that
it does not seem proper yet to discuss
his personal history, but we can speak understandingly
of his art, for we already know it
to be great art, which will stand the test of
time. His imagination turned toward subjects
of solemn grandeur and his work is very
impressive and beautiful.</p> 

<p>He was born in Basel, "one of the most
prosaic towns in Europe." His father was a
Swiss merchant, and not poor; thus the son
had ordinarily good chances to make an artist
of himself. He was born at a time when to be
an artist had long ceased to be a reproach,
and men no longer discouraged their sons
who felt themselves inspired to paint great
pictures.</p> 

<p>When Böcklin was nineteen years old he
took himself to Düsseldorf, with his merchant
father's permission, and settled down to learn
his art, but in that city he found mostly
"sentimental and anecdotal" pictures being
painted, which did not suit him at all. Then
<a name="047"></a>
he took himself off to Brussels, where again
he was not satisfied, and so went to Paris.
But while in Brussels he had copied many old
masters, and had advanced himself very
much, so that he did not present himself in
Paris raw and untried in art.</p> 

<p>At first he studied in the Louvre, then went
to Rome, seeking ever the best, and being
hard to satisfy. He found rest and tranquillity
in Zürich, a city in his native country, but it
was Italy that had most influenced his work.</p> 

<p>He loved the Campagna of Rome with its
ruins and the sad grandeur of the crumbling
tombs lining its way, and therefore a certain
mysterious, grand, and solemn character made
his pictures unlike those of any other artist.
He loved to paint in vertical (up-and-down)
fines, rather than with the conventional horizontal
outlines that we find in most paintings.
This method gives his pictures a different
quality from any others in the world.</p> 

<p>He loved best of all to paint landscape,
and it is said of him that "as the Greeks
peopled their streams and woods and waves
with creatures of their imagination, so Böcklin
makes the waterfall take shape as a nymph, or
the mists which rise above the water source
wreathe into forms of merry children; or in
some wild spot hurls centaurs together in
fierce combat, or makes the slippery, moving
wave give birth to Nereids and Tritons."</p> 

<p>Muther, art-critic and biographer, calls our 
<a name="048"></a>
attention to the similarity between Wagner's
music and Böcklin's painting. While Wagner
was "luring the colours of sound from music,"
Böcklin's "symphonies of colour streamed
forth like a crashing orchestra," and he calls
him the greatest colour-poet of the time.</p> 

<p>In appearance Böcklin was fine of form,
healthy and wholesome in all his thoughts and
way of living. In 1848 he took part in
revolutionary politics and later this did him
great harm. Only the influence of his friends
kept him from ruin. After the Franco-Prussian
war he was made Minister of Fine Arts. In
this office he rendered great service; but
because he had to witness the wrecking of the
Column Vendôme in order to save the Louvre
and the Luxembourg from the mob, he was
censured; indeed so heavy a fine was imposed
that it took his whole fortune to pay it; and
he was banished into the bargain. From
1892 to 1901 he lived in or near Florence,
and he died at Fiesole, January 16th, 1901.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE ISLE OF THE DEAD</center>

<p>This picture is perhaps the greatest of the
many great Arnold Böcklin paintings, and it is
both fascinating and awe-inspiring.</p> 

<p>It best shows his liking for vertical lines in
art. The Isle of the Dead is of a rocky, shaft-like
formation in which we may see hewn-out
tombs; and there, tall cypress trees are growing.</p> 

<p><a name="049"></a>
The traces of man's work in the midst of this
sombre, ideal, and mystic scene add to the
impressiveness of the picture. The isle stands
high and lonely in the midst of a sea.</p> 

<p>The water seems silently to lap the base
of the rocks and the trees are in black shadow,
massed in the centre. It looks very mysterious
and still. There is a stone gateway touched
with the light of a dying day. It is sunset
and the dead is being brought to its resting
place in a tiny boat, all the smaller for its
relation to the gloomy grandeur of the isle
which it is approaching. One figure is standing
in the boat, facing the island, and the sunlight
falls full upon his back and touches the boat,
making that spot stand out brilliantly from all
the rest of the picture.</p> 

<p>Among Böcklin's paintings are "Naiads at
Play," which hangs in the Museum at Basel,
"A Villa by the Sea," "The Sport of the
Waves," "Regions of Joy," "Flora," and
"Venus Dispatching Cupid."</p> 

<p><a name="050"></a></p>
<h1>IV</h1>

<h1>MARIE-ROSA BONHEUR</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Rosa Bon-er)<br>
<i>French School</i><br>
1822-1895<br>
<i>Pupil of Raymond B. Bonheur</i></center>

<p>Rosa Bonheur, Landseer, and Murillo
maybe called "Children's Painters" in this
book because they painted things that children,
as well as grown-ups, certainly can enjoy.
To be sure, Murillo was a very different sort
of artist from Rosa Bonheur or Landseer,
but if the two latter painted the most beautiful,
animals--dogs, sheep, and horses--Murillo
painted the loveliest little children.</p> 

<p>Rosa was the best pupil of her father;
Raymond B. Bonheur. In Bordeaux they
lived together the peaceful life of artists,
the father being already a well known painter
when his daughter was born. She became,
as Mr. Hamerton, who knew her, said, "the
most accomplished female painter who ever
lived ... a pure, generous woman as
well and can hardly be too much admired ...
as a woman or an artist. She is simple in her
tastes and habits of life and many stories are
told of her generosity to others."</p> 

<p>After a time the Bonheurs moved to Paris
<a name="051"></a>
where young Rosa could have better opportunities;
and there she put on man's clothing,
which she wore all her life thereafter. She
wore a workingman's blouse and trousers,
and tramped about looking more like a man
than a woman with her short hair. This,
made everybody stare at her and think her
very queer, but people no longer believe that
she dressed herself thus in order to advertise
herself and attract attention; but because it
was the most convenient costume for her to
get about in. She went to all sorts of places;
the stockyards, slaughter houses, all about the
streets of Paris, to learn of things and people,
especially of animals, which she wished most
to paint. She could hardly have gone about
thus if she had worn women's clothing.</p> 

<p>Rosa Bonheur exhibited her first painting
at the <i>Salon</i> in 1841, and this was twelve years
before her beloved father died; thus he had the
happiness of knowing that the daughter whom
he had taught so lovingly was on the road
to success and fortune. He knew that when
fortune should come to her she would use it
well. The year that she exhibited her work
in the <i>Salon</i> she painted only two little pictures--one 
of rabbits, the other of sheep and
goats--but they were so splendidly done
that all the critics knew a great woman artist
had arrived.</p> 

<p>It was then that her enemies, those who
were becoming jealous of her work, said that 
<a name="052"></a>
she was wearing men's clothing in order to
attract attention to herself.</p> 

<p>Soon her work began to be bought by the
French Government, which was a sure sign of
her power. She was already much beloved
by the people. In the meantime we in America
and others in England had heard of Mademoiselle
Bonheur, but we heard far less about her
painting than we did about her masculine
garb. We thought of her mostly as an eccentric
woman; but one day came "The Horse
Fair," and all the world heard of that, so the
artist was to be no longer judged by the
clothes she wore but by her art. Finally, she
received the cross of the Legion of Honour,
and also was made a member of the Institute
of Antwerp.</p> 

<p>She lived near Fontainebleau; her studio
a peaceful retired home, till the Franco-Prussian
war came about. Then she and others began
to fear that her studio and pictures would be
destroyed, so the artist was forced to stop her
work and prepared to go elsewhere. But
the Crown Prince of Prussia himself ordered
that Mademoiselle Bonheur should not even
be disturbed. Her work had made her belong
to all the world and all the world was to
protect her if need be.</p> 

<p>Rosa Bonheur had a brother who, some
critics said, was the better artist, but if that
were true it is likely that his popularity would
in some degree have approached that of his 
<a name="053"></a>
sister. Rosa Bonheur did not paint many
large canvases, but mostly small ones, or
only moderately large; but when she painted
sheep it seems that one might shear the wool,
it stands so fleecy and full; while her horses
rampage and curvet, showing themselves off
as if they were alive.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE HORSE FAIR</center>

<p>This picture was exhibited all over the world
very nearly. It was carried to England and
to America, and won admiration wherever it
was seen. Finally it was sold in America.
It was first exhibited in 1853, the year in
which the artist's father died. Mr. Ernest
Gambart was the first who bought the picture,
and he wrote of it to his friend, Mr. S.P.
Avery: "I will give you the real history of
'The Horse Fair,' now in New York. It
was painted in 1852, by Rosa Bonheur, then
in her thirtieth year, and exhibited in the next
<i>Salon</i>. Though much admired it did not find
a purchaser. It was soon after exhibited in
Ghent, meeting again with much appreciation,
but was not sold, as art did not flourish at the
time. In 1855 the picture was sent by Rosa
Bonheur to her native town of Bordeaux and 
exhibited there. She offered to sell it to
the town at the very low price 12,000
francs ($2,400). While there, I asked her if 
she would sell it to me, and allow me to take 
<a name="054"></a>
it to England and have it engraved. She said:
'I wish to have my picture remain in France.
I will once more impress on my countrymen,
my wish to sell it to them for 12,000 francs.
If they refuse, you can have it, but if you take
it abroad, you must pay me 40,000 francs.'
The town failing to make the purchase, I at
once accepted these terms, and Rosa Bonheur
then placed the picture at my disposal. I
tendered her the 40,000 francs and she said:
'I am much gratified at your giving me such
a noble price, but I do not like to feel that I
have taken advantage of your liberality; let
us see how we can combine in the matter. You
will not be able to have an engraving made
from so large a canvas. Suppose I paint you
a small one from the same subject, of which I
will make you a present.' Of course I accepted
the gift, and thus it happened that the large
work went travelling over the kingdom on
exhibition, while Thomas Landseer was making
an engraving from the quarter-size replica.</p> 

<p>"After some time (in 1857 I think), I sold
the original picture to Mr. William P. Wright,
New York (whose picture gallery and residence
were at Weehawken, N.J.), for the sum
of 30,000 francs, but later I understood
that Mr. Stewart paid a much larger price
for it on the breaking up of Mr. Wright's
gallery. The quarter size replica, from which
the engraving was made, I finally sold to Mr.
Jacob Bell, who gave it in 1859 to the nation,  
<a name="055"></a>
and it is now in the National Gallery, London.
A second, still smaller replica, was painted a
few years later, and was resold some time ago
in London for £4,000 ($20,000). There
is also a smaller water-colour drawing which
was sold to Mr. Bolckow for 2,500 guineas
($12,000), and is now an heirloom belonging
to the town of Middlesbrough. That is the
whole history of this grand work. The Stewart
canvas is the real and true original, and only
large size 'Horse-Fair.'</p> 

<p>"Once in Mr. Stewart's collection, it never
left his gallery until the auction sale of his
collection, March 25th, 1887, when it was purchased
by Mr. Cornelius Vanderbilt for the
sum of $55,000, and presented to the Metropolitan
Museum of Art."</p> 

<p>And thus we have the whole story of the
"Horse-Fair." The picture is 93-1/2 inches high,
and 197 inches wide, and it contains a great
number of horses, some of which are ridden,
while others are led, and all are crowding with
wild gaiety toward the fair where it is quite
plain they know they are about to be admired
and their beauty shown to the best advantage.
Other well-known Rosa Bonheurs are "Ploughing,"
"Shepherd Guarding Sheep," "Highland
Sheep," "Scotch Deer," "American Mustangs,"
and "The Study of a Lioness."</p> 

<p><a name="056"></a></p>
<h1>V</h1>

<h1>ALESSANDRO BOTTICELLI</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Ah-lays-sahn'dro Bo't-te-chel'lee)<br>
<i>Florentine School,</i><br>
1447-1510 (Vasari's dates)<br>
<i>Pupil of Filippo Lippi and Verrocchio</i></center>

<p>Botticelli took his name from his first
master, as was the fashion in those days.
The relation of master and apprentice was very
close, not at all like the relation of pupil and
teacher to-day.</p> 

<p>Botticelli's father was a Florentine citizen,
Mariano Filipepi, and he wished his son to
become a goldsmith; hence the lad was soon
apprenticed to Botticelli, the goldsmith. As a
scholar, the little goldsmith had not distinguished
himself. Indeed it is said that as a
boy he would not "take to any sort of schooling
in reading, writing, or arithmetic." It cannot
be said that this failure distinguished him as a
genius, or the world would be full of genius-boys;
but the result was that he early began
to learn his trade.</p> 

<p>Fortunately for him and us, Botticelli, the
smith, was a man of some wisdom and when he
saw that the lad originated beautiful designs
and had creative genius he did not treat the
matter with scorn, as the master of Andrea del 
<a name="057"></a>
Sarto had done, but sent him instead to Fra
Filippo (Lippo Lippi) to be taught the art
of painting. So kind a deed might well
establish a feeling of devotion on little Alessandro's
part and make him wish to take his
master's name.</p> 

<p>Fra Filippo was a Carmelite monk, merry
and kindly; simple, good, and gifted, but his
temperament did not seem to influence his
young pupil. Of all unhappy, morbid men,
Botticelli seems to have been the most so, unless
we are to except Michael Angelo.</p> 

<p>After studying with the monk, Botticelli
was summoned by Pope Sixtus IV. to Rome
to decorate a new chapel in the Vatican.
Before that time his whole life had been greatly
influenced by the teachings of Savonarola
who had preached both passionately and
learnedly in Florence, advocating liberty.
From the time he fell under Savonarola's
wonderful power, the artist grew more and
more mystic and morbid. In Rome it was the
custom to have the portraits of conspirators,
or persons of high degree who were revolutionary
or otherwise objectionable to the state,
hung outside the Public Palace, and in Botticelli's
time there was a famous disturbance
among the aristocrats of the state. In 1478
the powerful Pazzi family conspired against
the Medici family, which then actually had
control. It was Botticelli who was engaged
to paint the portraits of the Pazzi family, 
<a name="058"></a>
which to their shame and humiliation were
to be displayed upon the palace walls.</p> 

<p>One peculiarity of this artist's pictures was
that he used actual goldleaf to make the high
lights upon hair, leaves, and draperies. The
effect of the use of this gold was very beautiful,
if unusual, and it may have been that his
apprenticeship as a goldsmith suggested to
him such a device.</p> 

<p>Also it was he who created certain characteristics
of painting that have since been thought
original with Burne-Jones. This was the use
of long stiff lily-stalks or other upright details
in his compositions. Examples of this idea,
which produced so weird an effect, will be found
in his allegory of "Spring," where stiff tree-trunks
form a part of the background. In
the "Madonna of the Palms" upright lily-stalks
are held in pale and trembling hands.
Like Michael Angelo, who came years afterward,
Botticelli was a guest of the great Lorenzo
the "Magnificent," in Florence. It was by
Botticelli's hand that the greater painter sent
a letter to Lorenzo from a duchess friend
who was also his patron. This was in Angelo's
youth; in Botticelli's old age.</p> 

<p>All his life was a drama of morbid seeking
after the unattainable, and finally he became
so poor and helpless that in his old age he
would have starved had Lorenzo de' Medici
not taken care of him. Lorenzo and other
friends who in spite of his gloominess admired 
<a name="059"></a>
his real piety, gathered about him and kept
him from starvation.</p> 

<p>On his "Nativity," Botticelli wrote: "This
picture I, Alessandro, painted at the end of
the year 1500 in the troubles of Italy, in the
halftime after the time, during the fulfilment
of the eleventh of John, in the second woe
of the Apocalypse, in the loosing the devil
for three and a half years. Afterward he
shall be chained according to the twelfth of
John, and see him trodden down as in this
picture." All of this is interesting because
Botticelli himself wrote it, but it is not
very easily understood by any child, nor by
many grown people.</p> 

<p>Botticelli did some very extraordinary things,
but whether they are beautiful or not one
must decide for himself. They are paintings
so characteristic that one must think them
very beautiful or else not at all so.</p> 

<center>PLATE--LA PRIMAVERA<br>
<i>(Spring)</i></center>

<p>In this picture we have the forerunner of a
modern painter, because we see in it certain,
qualities that we find in Böcklin. Look at
the effect of vertical lines; the tree trunks,
and the poses of the slender women. Over
all hovers a cupid who is sending love-shafts
into the hearts of all in springtime.</p> 

<p>Notice the lacy effect of the flowers that 
<a name="060"></a>
bestar the wind-blown gown of "La Primavera,"
the fern-like leaves that fleck the background;
the draperies that do not conceal the forms
of the nymphs of the lovely springtime.</p> 

<p>The very spirit of spring is seen in all the
half-floating, half-dancing, gliding, diaphanous
figures of the forest. The flowers of "La
Primavera's" crown are blue and white cornflowers
and primroses. She scatters over the
earth tulips, anemones, and narcissus. The
painting is allegorical and unique. Never were
such fluttering odds and ends of draperies
painted before, nor such fascinating effects had
from canvas, paint, or brush. The picture
hangs in Florence in the Uffizi Gallery. A
German critic tells us that the "Realm of
Venus," is a better title for this picture, and
that it was painted after a poem of that name.</p> 

<p>Other pictures by this artist are: "The
Birth of Venus," "Pallas," "Judith," "Holofernes,"
"St. Augustine," "Adoration of the
Magi," and "St. Sebastian."</p> 

<p><a name="061"></a></p>
<h1>VI</h1>

<h1>WILLIAM ADOLPHE BOUGUEREAU</h1>

<center>(Pronounced W. A'dolf Bou-gair-roh)<br>
<i>French (Genre) School</i><br>
1825-1905<br>
<i>Pupil of Picot and the Ecole des Beaux-Arts</i></center>

<p>Bouguereau's business-like father meant
his son also to be business-like, but
he made the mistake of permitting him to
go to a drawing school in Bordeaux and there,
to his father's chagrin, the youngster took the
annual prize. After that there seemed nothing
for the father to do but grin and bear it,
because the son decided to be an artist and had
fairly won his right to be one.</p> 

<p>Young Bouguereau had no money, and
therefore he went to live with an uncle at
Saintonge, a priest, who had much sympathy
with the boy's wish to paint, and he left him
free to do the best he could for himself in art.
He got a chance to paint some portraits, and
when he and his uncle talked the matter over
It was decided that he should take the money
got for them, and go to Paris. It was there
that he sought Picot, his first truly helpful
teacher; and there, for the first time he learned
more than he already knew about art.</p> 

<p>All Bouguereau's opportunities in life were
made by himself, by his own genius. No one
<a name="062"></a>
gave him anything; he earned all. He longed
to go to Italy, and in the Ecole des Beaux-Arts
he won the Prix de Rome, which made possible
a journey to the land of great artists. The
French Government began to buy his work,
and he began to receive commissions to decorate
walls in great buildings; thus, gradually, he
made for himself fame and fortune.</p> 

<p>When this artist undertook to paint sacred
subjects, of great dignity, he was not at his
best; but when he chose children and mothers
and everyday folk engaged about their everyday
business, he painted beautifully. Americans
have bought many of his pictures and he
has had more popularity in this country than
anywhere outside of France.</p> 

<p>Some authorities give the birthplace of Bouguereau
as La Rochelle; at any rate he died there
at midnight, on the nineteenth of August, 1905.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE VIRGIN AS CONSOLER</center>

<p>The main distinction about this artist's
pictured faces is the peculiarly earnest expression
he has given to the eyes. In this picture
of the Virgin there is great genius in the pose
and death-look of the little child whose
mother has flung herself across the lap of Mary,
abandoned to her agony. This painting is
hung in the Luxembourg. Others by the same
master are called "Psyche and Cupid" "Birth of
Venus," "Innocence," and "At the Well."</p>

<p><a name="063"></a></p>
<h1>VII</h1>

<h1>SIR EDWARD BURNE-JONES</h1>

<center><i>English (Pre-Raphaelite) School</i><br>
1833-1898<br>
<i>Pupil of Rossetti</i></center>

<p>This artist has been called the most original
of all contemporaneous artists. He has
also been called the "lyric painter"; meaning
that he is to painting what the lyric poet is
to literature. His work once known can almost
always be recognised wherever seen afterward.
He did not slavishly follow the Pre-Raphaelite
school, yet he drew most of his
ideas from its methods. He was, in the use of
stiff lines, a follower of Botticelli, and not
original in that detail, as some have seemed to
think.</p> 

<center>PLATE--CHANT D'AMOUR<br>
<i>(The Love-Song)</i></center>

<p>This is a picture in the true Burne-Jones
style: a beautiful woman in billowy draperies,
playing upon a harp forms the central
figure of the group of three--a listener on
either side of her. There is the attractiveness
of the Burne-Jones method about this picture,
but after all there seems to be no very good
<a name="064"></a>
reason for its having been painted. The
subject thus treated has only a negative value,
and little suggestion of thought or dramatic
idea.</p> 

<p>Another picture of this artist, in which his
use of stiff draperies is specially shown, is
that of the women at the tomb of Christ,
when they find the stone rolled away and,
looking around, see the Saviour's figure before
them. The scene is low and cavern-like, with
a brilliant light surrounding the tomb. This
artist also painted "The Vestal Virgin,"
"King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid," "Pan
and Psyche," "The Golden Stairs," and
"Love Among the Ruins."</p> 

<p><a name="065"></a></p>
<h1>VIII</h1>

<h1>JOHN CONSTABLE</h1>

<center><i>English School</i><br>
1776-1837<br>
<i>Pupil of the Royal Academy</i></center>

<p>John Constable was the son of a "yeoman
farmer" who meant to make him also
a yeoman farmer. Mostly we find that the
fathers of our artists had no higher expectations
for their sons than to have them take up their
own business; to begin as they had, and to end
as they expected to. But in John Constable's
case, as with all the others, the father's methods
of living did not at all please the son, and
having most of all a liking for picture-making;
young John set himself to planning his own
affairs.</p> 

<p>Nevertheless, the foundation of John's art
was laid right there in the Suffolk farmer's
home and conditions. He was born in East
Bergholt, and the father seems to have believed
in windmills, for early in life the signs of
wind and weather became a part of the son's
education. He learned a deal more of atmospheric
conditions there on his father's windmill
planted farm than he could possibly have
learned shut up in a studio, French fashion.
As a little boy he came to know all the signs of 
<a name="066"></a>
the heavens; the clouds gathering for storm or
shine; the bending of the trees in the blast;
all of these he loved, and later on made the
principal subjects of his art. He learned to
observe these things as a matter of business
and at his father's command; thus we may say
that he studied his life-work from his very
infancy. All about him were beautiful hedgerows,
picturesque cottages with high pitched
roofs covered with thatch, and it was these
beauties which bred one other great landscape
painter besides Constable, of whom we shall
presently speak, Gainsborough.</p> 

<p>At last, graduating from windmills, John
went to London. He had a vacation from
the work set him by his father, and for two
years he painted "cottages, studied anatomy,"
and did the drudgery of his art; but there was
little money in it for him, and soon he had to go
into his father's counting house, for windmills
seemed to have paid the elder Constable,
considerably better than painting promised
to pay young John.</p> 

<p>John doubtless liked counting-house work
even less than he had done the study of windmills
and weather in his father's fields. He
was a most persistent fellow, however, and
finally he returned to London, to study again
the art he loved, this time in the Royal Academy,
which meant that he had made some
progress.</p> 

<p>His father gave him very little aid to do 
<a name="067"></a>
the things he longed to do, but after his father's
death he found that a little money was coming
to him from the estate--£4,000. He
had already triumphed over his difficulties by
painting his first fine pictures; he now knew
that he was to become a successful artist,
and be able to take care of himself and a wife.
Though in love, he had hitherto been too poor
to marry. His first splendid work was
"Dedham Vale."</p> 

<p>Though things were going very well with him,
it was not until Paris discovered him that he
achieved great success. In 1824 he painted
two large pictures which he took to Paris,
and there he found fame. The best landscape
painting in France dates from the time when
Constable's works were hung in the Louvre,
to become the delight of all art-lovers.</p> 

<p>He received a gold medal from Charles X.,
and became more honoured abroad than he had
ever been at home.</p> 

<p>Constable had many enemies, and made
many more after he became an Academician.
Some artists, who would have liked that
honour and who could not gain it for themselves,
declared that Constable painted "with a
palette knife," though it certainly would not
have mattered if he had, since he made great
pictures.</p> 

<p>He painted things exactly as he saw them,
and was not a popular artist. Most of all, he
loved to paint the scenes that he had known so 
<a name="068"></a>
well in his youth, and he did them over and
over again, as if the subject was one in which
he wished to reach perfection.</p> 

<p>When he died he left a picture, "Arundel
Castle and Mill," standing with its paint wet
upon his easel for he passed away very suddenly,
on April 1st, leaving behind him many unsold
paintings.</p> 

<p>He was a sensitive chap, and throughout his
youth was greatly distressed by the differences
of opinion between himself and his father. He
was torn asunder between a sense of duty and
his own wish to be an artist; and his greatest
consolation in this situation was in the friendship
he had formed for a plumber, who, like
himself, dearly loved art. The plumber's
name was John Dunthorne, and the two men
wandered about the country, when not
employed at their regular work, and together,
by streams and in fields, painted the same
scenes. At one time they hired a little room 
in the neighbouring village which they made
into a studio. Constable was a handsome
fellow in his youth and was known to all as the
"handsome miller." His father, the yeoman
farmer with the windmills, was also a miller.</p> 

<p>In London he became acquainted with one
John Smith, known as "Antiquity Smith,"
who taught him something of etching. After
he was recalled to his father's business, his
mother wrote to "Antiquity Smith," that she
hoped John "would now attend to business,
<a name="069"></a>
by which he will please me and his father,
and ensure his own respectability and comfort"--a 
complete expression of the middle-class
British mind. Her satisfaction was short-lived,
for her son soon returned to London.</p> 

<p>When his first pictures were rejected by the
Royal Academy he showed one of them to Sir
Benjamin West, who said hopefully: "Don't
be disheartened, young man, we shall hear of
you again; you must have loved nature very
much before you could have painted this."</p> 

<p>About that time he tried to paint many
kinds of pictures, such as portraits and sacred
subjects, but he did not seem to succeed in
anything except the scenes of his boyhood,
which he truly loved. Hence he gave up
attempting that which he could do only
passably, and kept to what he could do
supremely well.</p> 

<p>When his friends wished him to continue
portrait painting, the only thing that was well
paid at that time, Constable wrote: "You
know I have always succeeded best with my
native scenes. They have always charmed
me, and I hope they always will. I have now
a path marked out very distinctly for myself,
and I am desirous of pursuing it uninterruptedly."</p>

<p>About the time he fell in love and before his
father's death, his health began to fail, and the
young woman's mother would have none of
him. Her father was in favour of Constable, 
<a name="070"></a>
but he could not hold out against the chance
of his daughter losing her grandfather's fortune
by marrying the wrong man.</p> 

<p>The lady was not so distractingly in love as
young Constable was, and she did not entirely
like the idea of poverty, even with John, so
she held off, and with so much anxiety Constable
became downright ill. For five years
the pair lived apart, and then the artist and
the young woman, whose name was Maria
Bicknell, lost their mothers about the same time,
This drew them very closely together; and to
help the matter on, John's attendance upon
his father in his last illness brought him to the
same town as Miss Bicknell. After his father's
death, he urged the young lady so strongly
to be his wife that she consented They were
married and her father soon forgave her,
but not so her grandfather, who declared that
he never would forgive her, but he really must
have done so from the first, for when he died
it was found that he had left her a little fortune
of £4,000. This was about the same amount
the artist had received from his father, so that
they were able to get on very well.</p> 

<p>After Constable's marriage he went on a visit
to Sir George Beaumont, and there an amusing
incident occurred which is known to-day as
the story of Sir George's "brown tree." It
seems that Constable's ideas of colour for his
landscapes were so true to nature that a good
many people did not approve of them, and one 
<a name="071"></a>
day while painting, Sir George declared that
the colour of an old Cremona fiddle was the
best model of colour tone that a landscape
could have. Constable's only answer was to
place the fiddle on the green lawn in front of
the house. At another time his host asked
the artist, "Do you not find it very difficult
to determine where to place your brown tree?"
"Not at all," was Constable's reply, "for I
never put such a thing into a picture in my
life."</p> 

<p>In painting one picture many times he
declared, "Its light cannot be put out because
it is the light of nature." A Frenchman called
attention to one of his pictures thus: "Look
at these landscapes by an Englishman. The
ground appears to be covered with dew."</p> 

<p>Notwithstanding the little fortune of his
wife and himself, Constable was not quite carefree,
because he had to raise a good sized
family of six children so that when his wife's
father died and left his daughter £20,000
he said to a friend: "Now I shall stand before
a six-foot canvas with a mind at ease, thank
God!" In the very midst of this happiness,
his beloved wife became ill with consumption,
and was certain to die. He no longer cared
very much for life and wrote very sadly:</p> 

<p>"I have been ill, but am endeavouring to
get work again, and could I get afloat upon a
canvas of six feet, I might have a chance of
being carried from myself." When he became 
<a name="072"></a>
a member of the Royal Academy, he said:
"It has been delayed until I am solitary and
cannot impart it," meaning that without his
dear wife to share his good fortune, it seemed
an empty honour to him.</p> 

<p>Strange things are told which show how little
his work was valued by his countrymen.
After he had become a member of the Academy
one of his small pictures was entered but
rejected; nobody knowing anything about it.
It was put on one side among the "outsiders."
Finally, one of his fellow members glancing at
it was attracted.</p> 

<p>"Stop a bit! I rather like that. Why not
say 'doubtful'?" Later Constable acknowledged
the picture as his, and then they wished
to hang it, but he refused to let them. Another
Academy story is about his picture "Hadleigh
Castle." On Varnishing Day, Chartney, a brilliant
critic, told Constable that the foreground
of the picture was "too cold," and so he
undertook to "warm it," by giving it a strong
glaze with asphaltum with Constable's brush
which he snatched from the artist's hand.
Constable gazed at him in horror. "Oh!
there goes all my dew," he cried, and when
Chartney's back was turned he hurriedly wiped
the "warmth" all away and got back his "dew."</p> 

<p>Even the amusing things that happened to
him, seem to have a little sadness about them.
He wrote to a friend: "Beechey was here
yesterday, and said: 'Why d--n it Constable, 
<a name="073"></a>
what a d--n fine picture you are making;
but you look d--n ill, and you've got a d--n
bad cold!' so," added Constable, "you have
evidence on oath of my being about a fine
picture and that I am looking ill."</p>

<p>An illustration of his painstaking and truthfulness
to nature is that he once took home
with him from a visit bottles of coloured sand
and fragments of stone which he meant to
introduce into a picture; and on passing some
slimy posts near a mill, he said to his host,
"I wish you could cut those off and send
their tops to me."</p> 

<p>Constable was a loyal friend, the most
persistent of men, and several anecdotes are
told of his characteristics. His friend Fisher
said to him:</p> 

<p>"Where real business is to be done, you are
the most energetic and punctual of men. In
smaller matters, such as putting on your
breeches, you are apt to lose time in deciding
which leg shall go in first."</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE HAY WAIN</center>

<p>This picture was first called "Landscape,"
and it was painted in 1821. In his letters
about it, however, Constable also called it
"Noon," and others wrote of it as "Midsummer
Noon." This tells us what a wealth
of hot sunlight is suggested by the painting.</p> 

<p>It shows a little farmhouse upon the bank of 
<a name="074"></a>
a stream, a spot well known as "Willy Lott's
Cottage." The owner had been born there
and he died there eighty-eight years later,
without ever having left his cottage for four
whole days in all those years. Upon the
tombstone of Lott, which is in the Bergholt
burial ground, his epitaph calls the house
"Gibeon Farm." It was a favourite scene
with Constable, and he painted it many times
from every side. It is the same house we see
in the "Mill Stream," another Constable painting,
and again in "Valley Farm." In this
last picture he painted the side opposite to the
one shown in the "Hay Wain."</p> 

<p>The stream near which the house stands
spreads out into a ford, and in the picture the
hay cart, with two men upon it, is passing
through the ford. The horses are decked out
with red tassels. On the right of the stream
there is a broad meadow, golden green in the
sunlight, "with groups of trees casting cool
shadows on the grass, and backed by a distant
belt of woodland of rich blues and greens." On
the right is a fisherman, half hidden by a bush,
standing near his punt.</p> 

<p>Constable wrote to his friend, Fisher, "My
picture goes to the Academy on the tenth."
This was written on April 1st, 1821. "It is not
so grand as Tinney's." This shows us, that
Constable had not vanity enough to interfere
with his self-criticism. Again in a letter
written to him by a friend: "How does the 
<a name="075"></a>
'Hay Wain' look now it has got into your
own room again?" adding that he wished to
see it there, away from the Academy which
to him was always "like a great pot of boiling
varnish."</p>

<p>Later Fisher wrote: "I have a great
desire to possess your 'Wain,' but I cannot
now reach what it is worth;" and he begged
Constable not to sell it without giving him a
chance to try once more to raise the money
to buy it. He wrote that the picture would
become of greater value to his children if the
artist left it hanging upon the walls of the
Academy, "till you join the society of Ruysdael,
Wilson, and Claude. As praise and money
will then be of no value to you, the world will
liberally bestow both."</p> 

<p>Later a Frenchman wished to buy it for
exhibition purposes, and when Constable wrote
to Fisher of this, his friend replied that he had
better sell it to the Frenchman "for the sake
of the <i>éclat</i> it may give you. The stupid
English public, which has no judgment of its
own, will begin to think there is something
in it if the French make your works national
property. You have long lain under a mistake;
men do not purchase pictures because they
admire them, but because others covet them."</p> 

<p>Finally, the "Hay Wain" was sold to the
French dealer for £250, and Constable threw
in a picture of Yarmouth for good measure.
Later a friend declared that he had created a 
<a name="076"></a>
good deal of argument about landscape painting,
and that there had come to be two divisions,
for he had practically founded a new school.
He received a gold medal for the "Hay Wain,"
and the French nation tried to buy it. In
the Louvre are "The Cottage," "Weymouth
Bay," and "The Glebe Farm." Elsewhere are
"Hampstead Heath," "Salisbury Cathedral,"
"The Lock on the Stour," "Dedham Mill,"
"The Valley Farm," "Gillingham Mill," "The
Cornfield," "Boat-Building," "Flatford Mill
on the River Stour," besides many others.</p> 

<p><a name="077"></a></p>
<h1>IX</h1>

<h1>JOHN SINGLETON COPLEY</h1>

<center><i>English School</i><br>
1737-1815</center>

<p>A little boy with a squirrel was the
first picture that pointed this artist
toward fame and that was painted in England
and exhibited at the Society of Arts.</p> 

<p>This American-born Irishman had no family
or ancestry of account, but he himself was
to become the father of Lord Chancellor
Lyndhurst, and he did some truly fine things
in art.</p> 

<p>About the same time America had another
painter, Benjamin West, marked out for fame,
but he got his start in Europe while Copley
had already become a successful artist before
he left Boston, his native place.</p> 

<p>He liked best to paint "interiors"--rooms
with fine furniture and curtains, women in
fine clothing and men in embroidered waistcoats
and bejewelled buckles.</p> 

<p>In 1777 he got into the Royal Academy,
and on the whole had considerable influence on
European art. If we study the portraits
that he painted while in Boston, we can
get a very complete idea of the surroundings
<a name="078"></a>
of the "Royalists" at the time of our
colonial history.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE COPLEY FAMILY GROUP</center>

<p>In this picture there are seven figures with
an open landscape forming the background.
The baby of the family plays, with uplifted
arms, upon grandfather's knee. The mother
on the couch, surrounded by her three other
children, is kissing one while another clings
to her. Before her stands a prim little
maid, gowned in the fashion of grown-folks
of her day. A little lock of hair falling upon
her forehead suggests that when she was
good she was very, very good, and when she
was bad she was horrid! She wears a little
cap. At the back is the artist himself in a wig
and other fashions of the time. A great column
rises behind him, forming a part of the
architecture or the landscape, one hardly
knows which in so artificially constructed a
picture.</p> 

<p>Copley painted also John Hancock, Judge
Graham, Jeremiah Lee, and General Joseph
Warren.</p> 

<p><a name="079"></a></p>
<h1>X</h1>

<h1>JEAN BAPTISTE CAMILLE COROT</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Zhahn Bah-teest' Cah-mee'yel Coh'roh)<br>
<i>Fontainebleau-Barbizon School</i><br>
1796-1875<br>
<i>Pupil of Michallon</i></center>

<p>About three hundred years before Corot's
time there was a Fontainebleau school
of artists, made up of the pathetic Andrea del
Sarto, the wonderful Leonardo da Vinci, and
Cellini. These painters had been summoned
from their Italian homes by Francis I., to
decorate the Palace of Fontainebleau. The
second great group of painters who had studios
in the forest and beside the stream were
Rousseau, Dupré, Diaz, and Daubigny; Troyon,
Van Marcke, Jacque; then Millet, the painter
of peasants.</p> 

<p>Corot was born in Paris and received what
education the ordinary school at Rouen could
give him. He was intended by his parents
for something besides art, as it would seem
that every artist in the world was intended.
Corot was to grow up and become a respectable
draper; at any rate a draper.</p> 

<p>The young chap did as his father wished,
until he was twenty-six years old, and dreary
years those must have been to him. He did 
<a name="080"></a>
not get on well with his master, nor did the
world treat him very well. He found neither
riches nor the fame that was his due till he was
an old man of seventy. At that age he had
become as rich a man as he might have been
had he remained a sensible draper.</p> 

<p>Best of all, Corot loved to paint clouds and
dewy nights, pale moons and early day, and of
all amusements in the world, he preferred the
theatre. There he would sit; gay or sad as the
play might make him, weeping or laughing
and as interested as a little child.</p> 

<p>After he had anything to give away, Corot
was the most madly generous of men. It was
he who gave a pension to the widow of his
brother artist, Millet, on which she lived all
the rest of her days. He gave money to his
brother painters and to all who went to him
for aid; and he always gave gaily, freely, as if
giving were the greatest joy, outside of the
theatre, a man could have. Everyone who
knew him loved him, and there was no note
of sadness in his daily life, though there seems
to be one in his poetical pictures. Because of
his generous ways he was known as "Pere
Corot." He sang as he worked, and loved his
fellowmen all the time; but most of all, he
loved his sister.</p> 

<p>"Rousseau is an eagle," he used to say in
speaking of his fellow artist. "As for me, I
am only a lark, putting forth some little songs
in my gray clouds."</p> 

<p><a name="081"></a>
It has been noted that most great landscape
painters have been city-bred, a remarkable fact.
Constable and Gainsborough were born and
bred in the country, but they are exceptions
to the rule. Corot's parents were Parisians
of the purest dye, having been court-dressmakers
to Napoleon I.; and when Corot finally determined 
to leave the draper's shop and become a painter, 
his father said: "You shall have a yearly 
allowance of 1,200 francs, and if you can live on 
that, you can do as you please." When his son was 
made a member of the Legion of Honour, after 
twenty-three years of earnest work, his father 
thought the matter over, and presently doubled 
the allowance, "for Camille seems to have some 
talent after all," he remarked as an excuse for 
his generosity.</p> 

<p>It is told that when he first went to study
in Italy, Corot longed to transfer the moving
scenes before him to canvas; but people moved
too quickly for him, so he methodically set
about learning how to do with a few strokes
what he would otherwise have laboured over.
So he reduced his sketching to such a science
that he became able to sketch a ballet in full
movement; and it is remarked that this practice
trained him for presenting the tremulousness
of leaves of trees, which he did so exquisitely.</p> 

<p>One learns something of this painter of early
dawn and soft evening from a letter he wrote
to his friend Dupré:</p> 

<p><a name="082"></a>
One gets up at three in the morning, before the sun;
one goes and sits at the foot of a tree; one watches and
waits. One sees nothing much at first. Nature resembles
a whitish canvas on which are sketched scarcely the
profiles of some masses; everything is perfumed, and
shines in the fresh breath of dawn. Bing! the sun grows
bright but has not yet torn aside the veil behind which lie
concealed the meadows, the dale, and hills of the horizon.
The vapours of night still creep, like silvery flakes over
the numbed-green vegetation. Bing! bing!--a first ray
of sunlight--a second ray of sunlight--the little flowers
seem to wake up joyously. They all have their drop of
dew which trembles--the chilly leaves are stirred with the
breath of morning--in the foliage the birds sing unseen--all
the flowers seem to be saying their prayers. Loves
on butterfly wings frolic over the meadows and make the
tall plants wave--one sees nothing--yet everything is
there--the landscape is entirely behind the veil of mist,
which mounts, mounts, sucked up by the sun; and
as it rises, reveals the river, plated with silver, the
meadow, the trees, cottages, the receding distance--one 
distinguishes at last everything that one had
divined at first.</p> 

<p>In all the world there can hardly be a more
exquisite story of daybreak than this; and so
beautiful was the mood into which Corot
fell at eventime, as he himself describes it,
that it would be a mistake to leave it out.
This is his story of the night:</p> 

<p>Nature drowses--the fresh air, however, sighs among
the leaves--the dew decks the velvety grass with pearls.
The nymphs fly--hide themselves--and desire to be seen.
Bing! a star in the sky which pricks its image on the pool.
Charming star--whose brilliance is increased by the quivering
of the water, thou watchest me--thou smilest to me
with half-closed eye! Bing!--a second star appears in the 
<a name="083"></a>
water, a second eye opens. Be the harbingers of welcome,
fresh and charming stars. Bing! Bing! Bing!--three,
six, twenty stars. All the stars in the sky are keeping
tryst in this happy pool. Everything darkens, the pool
alone sparkles. There is a swarm of stars--all yields to
illusion. The sun being gone to bed, the inner sun of
the soul, the sun of art awakens. Bon! there is my
picture done!</p> 

<p>In writing those letters, Corot made literature
as well as pictures. That little word "bing!"
appears also in his paintings, as little leaves
or bits of tree-trunk, some small detail which,
high-lightened, accents the whole.</p> 

<center>PLATE--DANCE OF THE NYMPHS</center>

<p>There could hardly be a more charming
painting than this which hangs in the Louvre.
It is of a half-shut-in landscape of tall trees,
their branches mingling; and all the atmospheric
effects that belong to Corot's work can
here be seen.</p> 

<p>On the open greensward is a group of nymphs
dancing gaily, while over all the scene is the
veil of fairy-land or of something quite mysterious.
At the back and side, satyrs can be seen
watching the nymphs. There is here less of
the blur of leaves than that seen in later
pictures, but the same soft effect is found,
and the little "bings" are the accents of light
placed upon a leaf, a nymph's shoulder, or a
tree-trunk.</p> 

<p>This picture was painted in 1851, when 
<a name="084"></a>
Corot had not yet developed that style which
was to mark all his later work.</p> 

<p>Besides this picture he painted "Paysage,"
"The Bathers" "Ville d'Arvay," "Willows near
Arras," "The Bent Tree," "A Gust of Wind,"
and others.</p> 

<p><a name="085"></a></p>
<h1>XI</h1>

<h1>CORREGGIO (ANTONIO ALLEGRI)</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Cor-rage'jyo Ahl-lay'gree)<br>
<i>School of Parma</i><br>
1494(?)-1534<br>
<i>Pupil of Mantegna</i></center>

<p>When Correggio was a little boy, he
lived in the odour of spices, which
were kept upon his father's shop-shelves. He
was a highly-spiced little boy and man, although
the most timid and shrinking. His imagination
was the liveliest possible.</p> 

<p>The spice merchant lived in the town of
Correggio, and thus the artist got his name.
Correggio knew what should be inside the
lovely flesh of his painted figures before he
began to paint them, because he studied
anatomy in a truly scientific manner before he
studied painting. Probably no other artist
up to that time, had ever begun with the bare
bones of his models, but Correggio may be said
to have worked from the inside out. He learned
about the structure of the human frame from
Dr. Giovanni Battista Lombardi, and showed his
gratitude to his teacher by painting a picture
"Il Medico del Correggio" (Correggio's Physician),
and presenting it to Doctor Lombardi.</p> 

<p>Now Correggio's childhood, or at least his 
<a name="086"></a>
early manhood, could not have been spent in
poverty, because it is known that he used
the most expensive colours to paint with,
painted upon the finest of canvas, while greater
artists had often to be content with boards.
He also painted upon copper plates, and it is
said that he hired Begarelli, a sculptor of much
fame, to make models in relief for him to copy
for the pictures he painted on the cupolas of
the churches in Parma. That sculptor's services
must have been expensive.</p> 

<p>On the lovely island of Capri, in the Franciscan
convent, will be found one of his first
pictures, painted when Correggio was about
nineteen years old.</p> 

<p>He was highly original in many ways.
Although he had never seen the work of any
great artist, he painted the most extraordinary
fore-shortened pictures; and fore-shortening
was a technicality in art then uncommon.
He also was the first to paint church cupolas.
Fore-shortening produces some peculiar as well
as great results, and being a feature of art
with which people were not then familiar,
Correggio's work did not go uncriticised.
Indeed one artist, gazing up into one of the
cupolas where Correggio's fore-shortened
figures were placed, remarked that to him it
appeared a "hash of frogs."</p> 

<p>But when Titian saw that cupola, he said:
"Reverse the cupola, fill it with gold, and even
then that will not be its money's worth."</p> 

<p><a name="087"></a>
Correggio did not receive very large sums for
his work, and since he was married and took
good care of his family, he must have had
some source of income besides his brush.
He received some interesting rewards for his
paintings. For example, for "St. Jerome,"
called "Il Giorno," he was given "400 gold
imperials, some cartloads of faggots and
measures of wheat, and a fat pig." That
picture is in the Parma Gallery, and all the
cupolas which he painted are in Parma churches.</p> 

<p>Some of his pictures are signed; "Leito,"
a synonym for his name, "Allegri." This
indicates his style of art.</p> 

<p>There is an interesting story told of how
Correggio stood entranced before a picture of
Raphael's, and after long study of it he exclaimed:
"I too, am a painter!" showing at
once his appreciation of Raphael's greatness
and satisfaction at his own genius.</p> 

<p>Doubtless a good share of Correggio's comfortable
living came from the lady he married,
since she was considered a rich woman for
those times and in that locality. Her name
was Girolama Merlini, and she lived in Mantua,
the place where the Montagues and Capulets
lived of whom Shakespeare wrote the most
wonderful love story ever imagined. This
young woman was only sixteen years old when
Correggio met and loved her, and very beautiful
and later on he painted a picture, "Zingarella,"
for which his wife is said to have been the 
<a name="088"></a>
model. It seems to have been a stroke of
economy and enterprise for painters to marry,
since we read of so many who made fame and
fortune through the beauty of their wives.</p> 

<p>They were very happy together, Correggio
and his wife, and they had four children.
Their happiness was not for long, because
Correggio seems to have been but thirty-four
years old when she died, nor did he live to be
old. There is a most curious tale of his death
which is probably not true, but it is worth
telling since many have believed it. He is
supposed to have died in Correggio, of pleurisy,
but the story is that he had made a picture
for one who had some grudge against him, and
who in order to irritate him paid him in copper,
fifty scudi. This was a considerable burden,
and in order to save expense and time, it is
said that Correggio undertook to carry it home
alone. It was a very hot day, and he became
so overheated and exhausted with his heavy
load that he took ill and died, and he may be
said literally to have been killed by "too much
money," if this were true. Vasari, a biographer
to be generally believed, says it is a fact.</p> 

<p>Correggio said that he always had his
"thoughts at the end of his pencil," and there
are those who impudently declare that is the
only place he <i>did</i> have them, but that is a
carping criticism, because he was a very great
artist, his greatest power being the presentation
of soft blendings of light and shade. There 
<a name="089"></a>
seem to have been few unusual events in
Correggio's life; very little that helps us to
judge the man, but there is a general opinion
that he was a kind and devoted father and
husband, as well as a good citizen. With
little demand upon his moral character, he did
his work, did it well, and his work alone gave
him place and fame.</p> 

<p>He became the head of a school of painting
and had many imitators, but we hear little of
his pupils, except that one of them was his own
son, Pompino, who lived to be very old, and
in his turn was successful as an artist.</p> 

<p>Correggio was buried with honours in the
Arrivabene Chapel, in the Franciscan church
at Correggio.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE HOLY NIGHT</center>

<p>This painting is not characteristic of Correggio's
work, but nevertheless it is very
beautiful. The brilliant warm light which
comes from the Infant Jesus in His mother's
arms is reflected upon the faces of those
gathered about, and even illuminates the
angelic group hovering above him. The slight
landscape forming the background is also
suggestive, and the conditions of the birth
are indicated by the ass which may be seen
in the middle distance. The faces of all are
joyous yet full of wonderment, the whole scene
intimate and human.</p> 

<p><a name="090"></a>
The picture is also called the "Adoration of
the Shepherds," and that title best tells the
story. See the shepherdess shading her face
with one hand and offering two turtle-doves
with the other. The ass in the distance is the
one on which Mary rode to Bethlehem, and
Joseph is caring for it. Even the cold light
of the dawning day is softened by the beauty
of the group below. This picture is in the
Royal Gallery in Dresden.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE MYSTIC MARRIAGE OF ST. CATHERINE</center>

<p>The Infant Jesus sits upon His mother's
lap, and places the ring upon St. Catherine's
finger, while Mary's hand helps to guide that
of her Child. This action brings the three
hands close together and adds to the beauty
of the composition. All of the faces are full of
pleasure and kindliness, while that of St.
Sebastian fairly glows with happy emotion.
The light is concentrated upon the body of the
Child and is reflected upon the faces of the
women. This painting hangs in the Louvre.</p> 

<p>Other great Correggio pictures are the
"School of Cupid," which is more characteristic
of his work; "Antiope," "Leda," "Danae,"
and "Ecce Homo." 
<a name="091"></a></p>
<h1>XII</h1>

<h1>PAUL GUSTAVE DORÉ</h1>

<center><i>French School</i><br>
1833-1883</center>

<p>This artist died in Paris twenty-five years
ago, but there is little as yet to be told
of his life history. He was educated in Paris
at the Lycée Charlemagne, having gone there
from Strasburg, where he was born.</p> 

<p>He was a painter of fantastic and grotesque
subjects, and as far as we know, he began his
career when a boy. He made sketches before
his eighth year which attracted much attention,
and he earned considerable money while still
at school. He was at that time engaged to
illustrate for journals, at a good round sum,
and before he left the Lycée he had made
hundreds of drawings, somewhat after the
satirical fashion of Hogarth.</p> 

<p>His work is very characteristic and once seen
is likely to be always recognised.</p> 

<p>He first worked for the <i>Journal Pour Rire</i>,
but then he undertook to illustrate the work
of Rabelais, the great satirist, whose text just
suited Doré's pencil. After Rabelais he illustrated
Balzac, also the "Wandering Jew," "Don
Quixote," and Dante's "Divine Comedy."</p> 

<p>He undertook to do things which he could 
<a name="092"></a>
not do well, simply for the money there was in
the commissions. He had but a poor idea of
colour and his work was coarse, but it had
such marked peculiarities that it became
famous. He did a little sculpture as well,
and even that showed his eccentricities of
thought.</p> 

<center>PLATE--MOSES BREAKING THE TABLETS
OF THE LAW</center>

<p>This is one of the illustrations of the Doré
Bible, published in 1865-66. The story is well
known of how Moses went up into the Mount
of the Lord to receive the laws for the Israelites,
which were written upon tables of stone.
Upon his descent from the Mount he found
that his followers had set up a golden calf,
which they were worshipping; and in his wrath
Moses broke the tablets on which the Law
was inscribed. The power shown in his attitude,
the affrighted faces of the cowering Jews,
the thunder and lightning as an expression of
the wrath of the Almighty are all painted in
Doré's best manner.</p> 

<p><a name="093"></a></p>
<h1>XIII</h1>

<h1>ALBRECHT DÜRER</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Dooer-rer')<br>
<i>Nuremberg School</i><br>
1471-1528<br>
<i>Pupil of Wolgemuth and Schongauer</i></center>

<p>Albrecht Dürer by nationality was a
Hungarian, but he was born in the city
of Nuremberg. His father had come from
the little Hungarian town of Eytas to Nuremberg
that he might practise the craft of
a goldsmith. Notwithstanding his Hungarian
origin, the name is German and the family
"bearing," or sign, is the open door. This
device suggests that the name was first formed
from "Thurer," which means "carpenter,"
maker of doors.</p> 

<p>The father became the goldworker for a
master goldsmith of Nuremberg named Hieronymus
Holper, and very soon the new
employee had fallen in love with his master's
daughter. The daughter was very young and
very beautiful; her name was Barbara, and as
Herr Dürer was quite forty years of age, while
she was but fifteen, the match seemed most
unlikely, but they married and had eighteen
children! The great painter was one of them.</p>

<p>Albrecht loved his parents most tenderly,
<a name="094"></a>
and from first to last we hear no word of
disagreement among any members of that
immense household. Young Albrecht was
especially the companion of his father, being
brilliant, generous, and hard-working in a
family where everyone needed to do his best
to help along. This love and companionship
never ceased until death, and after his parents
died Albrecht wrote in a touching manner of
their death, describing his love for them,
and their many virtues. He was an author
and a poet as well as a painter, and only
Leonardo da Vinci matched him for greatness
and versatility. We may know what
Dürer's father looked like, since the son made
two portraits of him; one is to be seen in the
Uffizi Gallery at Florence and the other belongs
to the Duke of Northumberland's collection.
The latter portrait has been reproduced in an
engraving, so that it is familiar to most people.</p> 

<p>In the days when the great artist was growing
up, Nuremberg was the centre of all intellectuality
and art in the North. The city of Augsburg
also followed art fashions, but it was far
less important than Nuremberg, because in the
latter city every sort of art-craft was followed
in sincerity and with great originality.</p> 

<p>In those days, the craft of the goldsmith
was closely allied with the profession of the
painter, because the smith had to create his
own designs, and that called for much talent.
Thus it was but a step from designing in 
<a name="095"></a>
precious metals to the use of colour, and to
engraving. In making wood engravings, however,
the drudgery of it was left almost entirely
to workmen, not artists. Nuremberg was also
the seat of musical learning. Wagner makes
this fact pathetic, comical, and altogether
charming in his "Mastersingers of Nuremberg."</p> 

<p>Till Dürer's time, however, there had been
little painting that could be regarded as art,
and when he came to study it there was but
little opportunity in his own land, but Dürer
was destined to bring art to Nuremberg. If
he went elsewhere to study, it was only for a
little time, because he was above all things
patriotic and dearly loved his home.</p> 

<p>With seventeen brothers and sisters, young
Dürer's problem was a serious one. His
father not only meant him to become a goldsmith
like himself--a craft in which there
was much money to be made at a time when
people dressed with great ornamentation and
used gold to decorate with--it was highly
necessary with so large a family that he should
learn to do that which could make him helpful
to his father. Hence the young boy entered
his father's shop. If he had not been handicapped
with so many to help to maintain,
he would have laid up a considerable fortune,
because from the very beginning he was master
of all that he undertook; doing the least thing
better than any other did it, putting conscience
and painstaking into all.</p> 

<p><a name="096"></a>
"My father took special delight in me,"
the son said, "seeing that I was industrious
in working and learning, he put me to school;
and when I had learned to read and write, he
took me home from my school and taught
me the goldsmith's trade."</p> 

<p>The family were good and kind; excellent
neighbours, deeply religious, and little Albrecht
certainly was comely. He was beautiful as a
little child, and as a man was very handsome,
with long light hair sweeping his shoulders,
and gentle eyes. He was very tall, stately,
and full of dignity.</p> 

<p>In his father's shop he made little clay figures
which were afterward moulded in metal; also
he learned to carve wood and ivory, and he
added the touch of originality to all that he
did. He was the Leonardo da Vinci of Germany,
an intellectual man, a poet, painter, sculptor,
engraver, and engineer. He approached everything
that he did from an intellectual point
of view, looking for the reasons of things.</p> 

<p>After a while in his father's shop, he found
mere craftsmanship irksome, and he begged
to be allowed to enter a studio. This was a
great disappointment to the father, even a
distress, because he could see no very quick
nor large returns in money for an artist, and
he sorely needed the help of his son; but being
kind and reasonable, he consented Albrecht
was apprenticed to the only artist of any
repute then in Nuremberg, Wolgemuth.</p> 

<p><a name="097"></a>
To his studio Albrecht went, at the age of
fifteen, and if he did not learn much more of
painting, under that artist's direction, than
his own genius had already taught him, he
learned the drudgery of his work; how to grind
colours and to mix them, and he studied wood
engraving also.</p> 

<p>In Wolgemuth's studio he remained for
the three years of his apprenticeship, and then
he fled to better things. For a time he followed
the methods of another German artist, Schongauer,
but finally he went forth to try his luck
alone. He wandered from place to place,
practising all his trades, goldsmithing, engraving,
whatever would support him, yet
always and everywhere painting.</p> 

<p>It is thought that he may have gone as far
as Italy, but it is not certain whether he went
there in his first wanderings or later on.
However, he was soon recalled home, for his
father had found a suitable wife for him. She
was the daughter of a rich citizen and her
name was Agnes Frey. She was pretty as well
as rich, but had she been neither Albrecht would
have returned at his father's bidding. There was
never any resistance to the fine and proper things
of life on Albrecht Dürer's part. He was the
well balanced, reasonable man from youth up.</p> 

<p>There have been extraordinary tales told of
the artist's wife. She has been called hateful
and spiteful as Xantippe, the wife of Socrates,
but we think this is calumny. The stories 
<a name="098"></a>
came about in this way: Dürer had a life-long
friend, Wilibald Pirkheimer, who in his old
age became the most malicious and quarrelsome
of old fellows. He lived longer than
Dürer did, and Dürer's wife also outlived her
husband. Pirkheimer wanted a set of antlers
which had belonged to Dürer and which he
thought the wife should give him after Dürer
was dead, but Agnes thought otherwise and
would not give them up. Then, full of rage,
the old man wrote the most outrageous letters
about poor Agnes, saying that she was a shrew
and had compelled Dürer to work himself to
death; that she was a miser and had led the
artist an awful dance through life. This is the
only evidence against her, and that so sane and
sensible a man as the artist lived with her all
his life and cherished her, is evidence enough
that Pirkheimer didn't tell the truth. When
Dürer died he was in good circumstances and
instead of being overworked, he for many
years had done no "pot-boiling," but had
followed investigations along lines that pleased
him. After his death, the widow treated his
brothers and sisters generously, giving them
properties of Dürer's and being of much help
to them. During the artist's life he and she
had travelled everywhere together and had
appeared to love each other tenderly; hence
we may conclude that the old Pirkheimer
was simply a disgruntled, gouty old man 
without a good word for anybody.</p> 

<p><a name="099"></a>
If Dürer's father and mother had eighteen
children, Albrecht and Agnes struck a balance,
for they had none. Whether or not Dürer
went to Italy before his marriage in 1494,
certain it is that he was in Venice, the home of
Titian, in 1506. Titian was six years younger
than Dürer, who was then about thirty-five
years old. It is said that he started for Italy
in 1505 and that he went the whole of the way,
over the Alps, through forests and streams,
on horseback. Who knows but it was during
that very journey, while travelling alone,
often finding himself in lonely ways, and full
of the speculative thoughts that were characteristic
of him, that he did not think first of
his subject, "Knight, Death, and the Devil,"
which helped make his fame. In that picture
we have a knight, helmeted, carrying his lance,
mounted upon his horse, riding in a lonely
forest, with death upon a "pale horse" by
his side, holding an hour glass to remind the
knight of the fleeting of time. Behind comes
the devil, with trident and horn, represented
as a frightful and disgusting beast, which
follows hot-foot after the lonely knight, who
looks neither to right nor left, but persistently
goes his way.</p> 

<p>Titian's teacher, Bellini, was still living,
and he was one of Dürer's greatest admirers.
Especially did he believe that he could paint
the finest hair of any artist in the world. One
day, while studying Dürer's work, and being 
<a name="100"></a>
especially fascinated by the hair of one of
his figures, the old man took Dürer's brush
and tried to reproduce as beautiful a
tress. Presently he put down the brush
in despair, but the younger artist took it up,
still wet with the same colours, and in a
few brilliant strokes produced a lovely lock
of woman's hair.</p> 

<p>While luxuriating in Venetian heat, Dürer
wrote home to his friend Pirkheimer: "Oh,
how I shall freeze after this sunshine!" He
was a lover of warm, beautiful colour, gay
and tender life. Most of all he loved the
fatherland, and all the honours paid him and
all the invitations pressed upon him could
not keep him long from Nuremberg. The
journey homeward was not uneventful because
he was taken ill, and had to stop at a house
on his way, where he was cared for till he was
strong enough to proceed. Before he went
his way he painted upon the wall of that house
a fine picture, to show his gratitude for the
kind treatment he had received. Imagine a
people so settled in their homes that it
would be worth while for an artist who
came along to leave a picture upon the walls
to-day--we should have moved to a new
house or a new flat almost before Dürer
could have washed his brushes and turned
the corner.</p> 

<p>Back in Nuremberg, he settled down into
the life of a responsible citizen, lived in a fine
<a name="101"></a>
new house, in time became a member of the
council, and his studio was a veritable workshop.
Studios were quite different from those
of to-day. Then the pupils turned to and
ground colours, did much of their own manufacturing,
engaged at first in such commonplace
occupations, which were nevertheless teaching
them the foundation of their art, while they
watched the work of the master. Such a
studio as Dürer's must have been full of young
men coming and going, not all working at the
art of painting, but engraving, preparing
materials for such work, designing, and executing
many other details of art work.</p> 

<p>After this time Dürer made his smallest
picture, which is hardly more than an inch in
diameter. On that tiny surface he painted
the whole story of the crucifixion, and it is now
in the Dresden Gallery. To those of us who
see little mentality in the faces of the Italian
subjects, the German art of Dürer, often ugly
in the choice of models, and so exact as to
bring out unpleasing details, is nevertheless
the greater; because in all cases, the faces have 
sincere expressions. They exhibit human purposes 
and emotions which we can understand, and despise 
or love as the case may be.</p> 

<p>They say that his Madonna is generally a
"much-dressed round-faced German mother,
holding a merry little German boy." That
may be true; but at any rate, she is every inch 
<a name="102"></a>
a mother and he a well-beloved little boy,
which is considerably more than can be said of
some Italian performances.</p> 

<p>Dürer made a painting of "Praying Hands,"
a queer subject for a picture, but those hands
are nothing <i>but</i> praying hands. The story of
them is touching. It is said that for several
years Dürer had won a prize for which a friend
of his had also competed, and upon losing the
prize the last time he tried for it, the friend
raised his hands and prayed for the power to
accept his failure with resignation and humility.
Dürer, looking at him, was impressed with the
eloquence of the gesture; thus the "Praying
Hands" was conceived.</p> 

<p>Dürer was also called the <i>Father of Picture
Books</i>, because he designed so many woodcuts
that he first made possible the illustration of
stories.</p> 

<p>He printed his own illustrations in his own
house, and was well paid for it. The Emperor
Maximillian visited Nuremberg, and wishing
to honour Dürer, commanded him to make a
triumphal arch.</p> 

<p>"It was not to be fashioned in stone like
the arches given to the victorious Roman
Emperors; but instead it was to be composed
of engravings. Dürer made for this purpose
ninety-two separate blocks of woodcuts. On
these were represented Maximillian's genealogical
tree and the principal events of his life.
All these were arranged in the form of an
<a name="103"></a>
arch, 9 feet wide and 10-1/2 feet high. It took
Dürer three years to do this work, and he was
never well paid," so says one who has compiled
many incidents of his life.</p> 

<p>"While the artist worked, the Emperor
often visited his studio; and as Dürer's pet
cats often visited it at the same time,
the expression arose, 'a cat may look at a
King!'"</p> 

<p>On the occasion of one of these kingly visits,
Maximillian tried to do a little art-work on his
own account. Taking a piece of charcoal he
tried to sketch, but the charcoal kept breaking
and he asked Dürer why it did so.</p> 

<p>"That is my sceptre; your Majesty has other
and greater work to do," was the tactful reply.
It is a question with us to-day whether the
King ever did a greater work than Albrecht
Dürer, king of painters, was doing.</p> 

<p>After this, Maximillian gave Dürer a pension,
but when the Emperor died the artist found it
necessary to apply to the monarch who came
after him, in order to have the gift confirmed.
This was the occasion for his journey to the
Low Countries, and he took his wife Agnes with
him. In the Netherlands he was received
with much honour and was invited to become
court painter; and what was more, his pension
was fixed upon him for life. The great work
of his life was his illustration of the Apocalypse.
For this he made sixteen extraordinary woodcuts,
of great size.</p> 

<p><a name="104"></a>
On his journey to see Charles V., Maximillian's
successor, Dürer kept a diary in which he
noted the minutest details of all that happened
to him. He told of the coronation of Charles;
of hearing about a whale that had been cast
upon the shore; of his disappointment that it
had been removed before he had reached the
place. He wrote with great indignation about
the supposed kidnapping of Martin Luther,
while he was on his way home from the Diet
of Worms.</p> 

<p>While Dürer was in the Low Countries, a
fever came upon him, and when he returned
home, it still followed him. Indeed, although
he lived for seven years after his return, he was
never well again. Among his effects there was
a sketch made to indicate to his physician the
seat of his illness.</p> 

<p>Dürer did not paint great frescoes upon walls
as did Raphael, Michael Angelo, and all great
Italian artists; but instead he painted on wood,
canvas, and in oils.</p> 

<p>In all the civilised world Dürer was honoured
equally with the great Italian painters of his
time. He was a man of much conscientiousness,
dignity, and tenderness. He was devoted
to his home and country, and regarded the
problems of life intellectually. When he came
to die, his end was so unexpected that those
dearest to him could not reach his bedside.
He was buried in St. John's cemetery in
Nuremberg. After his death, Martin Luther
<a name="105"></a>
wrote as follows to their mutual friend, Eoban
Hesse:</p> 

<p>"As for Dürer; assuredly affection bids us mourn for
one who was the best of men, yet you may well hold him
happy that he has made so good an end, and that Christ
has taken him from the midst of this time of troubles, and
from yet greater troubles in store, lest he, that deserved
to behold nothing but the best, should be compelled to
behold the worst. Therefore may he rest in peace with
his fathers, Amen."</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE NATIVITY</center>

<p>Our description of this painting calls attention
to the fact that the columns and arches of
the picturesque ruin belong to a much later
period in history than the birth of Christ.
Dürer was not acquainted with any earlier
style of architecture than the Romanesque and
therefore he used it here. "The ruin serves as
a stable. A roof of board is built out in front
of the side-room which shelters the ox and ass,
and under this lean-to lies the new born babe
surrounded by angels who express their
childish joy. Mary kneels and contemplates
her child with glad emotion. Joseph, also
deeply moved, kneels down on the other side of
the child, outside the shelter of the roof. Some
shepherds to whom the angel, who is still seen
hovering in the air, has announced the tidings,
are already entering from without the walls."
(Knackfuss). The picture is the central panel
of an altar-piece now in the Old Pinakothek at 
<a name="106"></a>
Munich. Dürer's oil painting of the four
apostles--John, Peter, Mark, and Paul--is in
the same gallery. Other Dürer pictures are:
"The Knight, Death and the Devil," "The
Adoration of the Magi," "Melancholy,"  and
portraits of himself.</p> 

<p><a name="107"></a></p>
<h1>XIV</h1>

<h1>MARIANO FORTUNY</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Mah-ree-ah-no' For-tu'ne)<br>
<i>Spanish School</i><br>
1838-1874<br>
<i>Pupil of Claudio Lorenzalez</i></center>

<p>Fortuny won his own opportunities.
He took a prize, while still very young,
which made it possible for him to go to Rome
where he wished to study art. He did not
spend his time studying and copying the old
masters as did most artists who went there, but,
instead, he studied the life of the Roman streets.</p> 

<p>He had already been at the Academy of
Barcelona, but he did not follow his first
master; instead, he struck out a line of art for
himself. After a year in Rome the artist
went to war; but he did not go to fight men,
he was still fighting fate, and his weapon
was his sketch book. He went with General
Prim, and he filled his book with warlike
scenes and the brilliant skies of Morocco.
From that time his work was inspired by
his Moorish experiences.</p> 

<p>After going to war without becoming a
soldier, Fortuny returned to Paris and there
he became fast friends with Meissonier, so that
a good deal of his work was influenced by
that artist's genius. After a time Fortuny's 
<a name="108"></a>
paintings came into great vogue and far-off
Americans began buying them, as well as
Europeans. There was a certain rich dry-goods
merchant in the United States who had
made a large fortune for those days, and while
he knew nothing about art, he wanted to spend
his money for fine things. So he employed
people who did understand the matter to buy
for him many pictures whose excellence he,
himself, could not understand, but which were
to become a fine possession for succeeding
generations. This was about 1860, and this
man, A.T. Stewart, bought two of Fortuny's
pictures at high prices. "The Serpent Charmer,"
and "A Fantasy of Morocco."</p> 

<p>When Fortuny was thirty years old he
married the daughter of a Spaniard called
Madrazo, director of the Royal Museum.
His wife's family had several well known
artists in it, and the marriage was a very
happy one. Because of this, Fortuny was
inspired to paint one of the greatest of his
pictures, "The Spanish Marriage." In it are
to be seen the portraits of his wife and his
friend Regnault. After a time he went to
live in Granada; but he could never forget the
beautiful, barbaric scenes in Morocco, and so
he returned there. Afterward he went with
his wife to live in Rome, and there they had a
fine home and everything exquisite about them,
while fortune and favour showered upon them;
but he fell ill with Roman fever, because of 
<a name="109"></a>
working in the open air, and he died while he
was comparatively a young man.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE SPANISH MARRIAGE</center>

<p>Fortuny is said to "split the light into a
thousand particles, till his pictures sparkle
like jewels and are as brilliant as a kaleidoscope....
He set the fashion for a class
of pictures, filled with silks and satins, bric-à-brac
and elegant trifling."</p> 

<p>Look at the brilliant scene in this picture!
The priest rising from his chair and leaning
over the table is watching the bridegroom
sign his name. This chap is an old fop, bedecked
in lilac satin, while the bride is a dainty
young woman, without much interest in her
husband, for she is fingering her beautiful
fan and gossiping with one of her girl friends.
She wears orange-blossoms in her black hair
and is in full bridal array. One couple, two
men, sit on an elegantly carved seat and are
looking at the goings-on with amusement,
while an old gentleman sits quite apart,
disgusted with the whole unimpressive scene.
Everybody is trifling, and no one is serious for
the occasion. The furnishings of the room are
beautiful, delicate, almost frivolous. People
are strewn about like flowers, and the whole
effect is airy and inconsequent. Fortuny painted
also "The Praying Arab," "A Fantasy of Morocco,"
"Snake Charmers," "Camels at Rest," etc.</p> 

<p><a name="110"></a></p>
<h1>XV</h1>

<h1>THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH</h1>

<center><i>English School</i><br>
1727-1788<br>
<i>Pupil of Gravelot and of Hayman</i> </center>

<p>There seems to have been no artist, with
the extraordinary exceptions of Dürer and
Leonardo, who learned his lessons while at
school. Little painters have uniformly begun
as bad spellers.</p> 

<p>Gainsborough's father was in the business
of woolen-crape making, while his mother
painted flowers, very nicely, and it was she
who taught the small Thomas. There were
nine little Gainsboroughs and, shocking to
relate, the artist of the family was so ready
with his pencil that when he was ten years
old he forged his father's name to a note which
he took to the schoolmaster, and thereby
gained himself a holiday. There is no account
of any other wicked use to which he put his
talent. It is said that he could copy any
writing that he saw, and his ready pencil
covered all his copy-books with sketches of
his schoolmasters. It was thought better
for him finally to follow his own ideas of
education, namely, to roam the woodlands
and make beautiful pictures.</p>

<p><a name="111"></a>
His father's heart was not softened till one
day little Gainsborough brought home a sketch
of the orchard into which the head of a man
had thrust itself, painted with great ability.
This man was a poacher, and father Gainsborough
recognised him by the portrait. There
seemed to be utility in art of this kind, and
before long the boy found himself apprenticed
to a silversmith.</p> 

<p>Through the silversmith the artist got
admission to an art school and began his
studies; but his master was a dissolute fellow,
and before long the pupil left him.</p> 

<p>Gainsborough was born in the town of
Sudbury on the River Stour, the same which
inspired another great painter half a century
later. Gainsborough is best known by his
portraits, in particular as the inventor of "the
Gainsborough hat," but he was first of all a
truly great landscape painter, and learned
his art as Constable did after him, along the
beautiful shores of the river that flowed past
his native town.</p> 

<p>The old Black Horse Inn is still to be seen,
and it was in the orchard behind it that he
studied nature, the same in which he made
the first of his famous portraits, that of the
poacher. It is known to this day as the
portrait of "Tom Pear-tree." That picture
was copied on a piece of wood cut into the
shape of a man, and it is in the possession of
Mr. Jackson, who lent it for the exhibition of 
<a name="112"></a>
Gainsborough's work held at the Grosvenor
Gallery, in 1885.</p> 

<p>While Thomas was with his first master,
by no means a good companion for a lad of
fifteen, he lived a busy, self-respecting life,
since he was devoted to his home and to his
parents. Only three years after he set out
to learn his art he married a young lady of
Sudbury. The pair were by no means rich,
Gainsborough having only eighteen years of
experience in this world, besides his brush,
and a maker of woolen-crape shrouds for a
father--who was not over pleased to have
an artist for a son. The lady had two hundred
pounds but this did not promise a very luxurious
living, so they took a house for six pounds a
year, at Ipswich. Thus the two young lovers
began their life together. There was a good
deal of romance in the story of his wife, whose
name was supposed to be Margaret Burr.
The two hundred pounds that helped to pay
the Ipswich rent did not come from the man
accepted as her father, but from her real
father, who was either the Duke of Bedford, or
an exiled prince. This would seem to be just
the sort of story that should surround a great
painter and his affairs.</p> 

<p>While he lived at Ipswich Gainsborough
used to say of himself that he was "chiefly
in the face-way" meaning that for the most
part he made portraits. He loved best to
paint the scenes of his boyhood, as Constable
<a name="113"></a>
afterward did, but he soon found there was
more money in portraits, and so he decided
to go to live in Bath, the fashionable resort of
English people in that day, where he was
likely to find rich folk who wanted to see
themselves on canvas. He settled down there
with his wife, whom he loved dearly, and his
two daughters and at once began to make
money. It is said he painted five hours a day
and all the rest of the time studied music. As
the theatre was Corot's greatest happiness, so
did music most delight Gainsborough, and he
could play well on nearly every known instrument;
he became so excellent a musician that
he even gave concerts. He had the most
delightful people about him, people who loved
art and who appreciated him, and then there
were the other people who paid for having
themselves painted. Altogether it was an
ideal situation.</p> 

<p>His studio was in the place known as the
"Circus" at Bath, and people came and went
all day, for it became the fashionable resort
for all the fine folks.</p> 

<p>From five guineas for half length portraits,
he soon raised his price to forty; he had charged
eight for full length portraits, but now they
went for one hundred. He painted some
famous men of the time. The very thought
is inspiring of such a company of geniuses
with Gainsborough in the centre of the group.
He painted Laurence Sterne, who wrote "The 
<a name="114"></a>
Sentimental Journey," and a few other delightful
things; also Garrick, the renowned actor.</p> 

<p>Even the encyclopædia reads thrillingly upon
this subject and one can afford to quote it, with
the feeling that the quotation will be read:
"His house harboured Italian, German, French
and English musicians. He haunted the green
room of Palmer's Theatre, and painted gratuitously
the portraits of many of the actors. He
gave away his sketches and landscapes to any
one who had taste or assurance enough to ask
for them." This sounds royal and exciting.</p> 

<p>After that Gainsborough went up to London
with plenty of money and plenty of confidence
and instead of six pounds a year for his house,
he paid three hundred pounds, which suggests
much more comfort.</p> 

<p>There were two other great painters of the time
in London, Sir Benjamin West--an American,
by the way--and Sir Joshua Reynolds. West
was court favourite, but Gainsborough too was
called upon to paint royalty, and share West's
honours. Reynolds was the favourite of the
town, but he too had to divide honours with
Gainsborough when the latter painted Richard
Brinsley Sheridan, Edmund Burke and Sir
William Blackstone.</p> 

<p>Notwithstanding, his landscapes, for which
he should have been most famous, did not sell.
Everybody approved of them, but it is said they
were returned to him till they "stood ranged in
long lines from his hall to his painting room"
<a name="115"></a>
Gainsborough was a member of the Royal
Academy and also a true Bohemian. He cared
little for elegant society, but made his friends
among men of genius of all sorts. He was very
handsome and impulsive, tall and fair, and
generous in his ways; but he had much sorrow
on account of one of his daughters, Mary, who
married Fischer, a hautboy player, against her
father's wishes. The girl became demented--at 
least she had spells of madness.</p> 

<p>When Mary Gainsborough married, her father
wrote the following letter to his sister, which
shows that he was a man of tender feeling for
those whom he truly loved:</p> 

<p>" ... I had not the least suspicion of
the attachment being so long and deeply seated;
and as it was too late for me to alter anything
without being the cause of total unhappiness on
both sides, my consent ... I needs must
give ... and accordingly they were married
last Monday and settled for the present in a
ready-furnished little house in Curzon Street,
Mayfair ... I can't say I have any reason to
doubt the man's honesty or goodness of heart, as
I never heard anyone speak anything amiss of
him, and as to his oddities and temper, she must
learn to like them as she likes his person ...
Peggy has been very unhappy about it, but I endeavour
to comfort her." Peggy was his wife.</p> 

<p>The abominable Fischer died twenty-years
before Mary did--she lived to be an old, old
woman.</p> 

<p><a name="116"></a>
Among those whom Gainsborough loved best
was the man called Wiltshire who carried his
pictures to and from London. He was a public
"carrier" but would never take any money
for his services to the artist, because he loved his
work. All he asked was "a little picture"--and 
he got so many of these, given in purest
affection, that he might have gone out of business
as a carrier, had he chosen to sell them. Four
of those little pictures are now very great ones
worth thousands of pounds and known everywhere
to fame. They are "The Parish Clerk," "Portrait
of Quin," "A Landscape with Cattle," and
"The Harvest Waggon."</p>

<p>We have a good many stories of Gainsborough's
bad manners. The artists of his day tried to
treat him with every consideration, but in return
he treated them very badly, especially Sir Joshua
Reynolds. Reynolds, who was then President of
the Academy greatly admired Gainsborough but
the latter would not return Sir Joshua's call, and
when Reynolds asked him to paint his portrait
for him, Gainsborough undertook it thanklessly.
Sir Joshua left town for Bath for a time, and
when he returned he tried to learn how soon the
portrait would be finished, but Gainsborough
would not even reply to his inquiry. There
seems to have been no reason for this behaviour
unless it was jealousy, but it made a most uncomfortable
situation between fellow artists.</p>

<p>Gainsborough has told some not very pleasing
stories about himself, but one of them 
<a name="117"></a>
shows us what a knack he had for seeing the
comic side of things, and perhaps for seeing
comedy where it never existed. Upon one
occasion he was invited to a friend's house
where the family were in the habit of assembling
for prayers, and he had no sooner got
inside, than he began to fear he should laugh,
when prayer time came, at the chaplain. In a
rush of shyness he fled, leaving his host to look
for him, till he stumbled over a servant who
said that Mr. Gainsborough had charged him
to say he had gone to breakfast at Salisbury.
Even respect for the customs of others could
not make him control himself.</p> 

<p>It was through his intimacy with King
George's family that his quarrel with the
Royal Academy came about. He had painted
the three princesses--the Princess Royal,
Princesses Augusta and Elizabeth, and these
were to be hung at a certain height in Carlton
House, but when he sent the first to the
Academy he asked it to be specially hung and
his request was refused. Then he sent a note
as follows:</p> 

<p>"He begs pardon for giving them so much trouble, but
he has painted the picture of the princesses in so tender a
light that, notwithstanding he approves very much of
the established line for strong effects, he cannot possibly
consent to have it placed higher than eight feet and a half,
because the likeness and the work of the picture will not
be seen any higher, therefore at a word he will not trouble
the gentlemen against their inclination, but will beg the
best of his pictures back again." 
 
<a name="118"></a>
Immediately, the Academy returned his
pictures, although it would seem that they
might better have accommodated Gainsborough
than have lost such a fine exhibition. He
never again would send anything to them.</p> 

<p>He was inclined to be irritated by inartistic
points in his sitters, and is said to have muttered
when he was painting the portrait of Mrs.
Siddons, the great actress: "Damn your nose
madam; there is no end to it." The nose
in question must have been an "eyesore"
to more than Gainsborough, for a famous
critic is said to have declared that "Mrs.
Siddons, with all her beauty was a kind of
female Johnson ... her nose was not
too long for nothing."</p> 

<p>Notwithstanding that his landscapes were
not popular, he used to go off into the country
to indulge his taste for painting them, and
once he wrote to a friend that he meant to
mount "all the Lakes at the next Exhibition
in the great style, and you know, if people
don't like them, it's only jumping into one
of the deepest of them from off a wooded island
and my reputation will be fixed forever."
An old lady, whose guest he was, down in the
country, told how he was "gay, very gay, and
good looking, creating a great sensation, in a rich
suit of drab with laced ruffles and cocked hat."</p> 

<p>One of the boys he saw in the country he
delighted to paint, and he also grew so much
attached to him that he took him to London
<a name="119"></a>
and kept him with him as his own son. That
boy's name was Jack Hill and he did not care
for city life, nor maybe for Gainsborough's
eccentricities, so he ran away. He was found
again and again, till one day he got away for
good, and never came back.</p> 

<p>All his later life Gainsborough was happy.
His daughter, who had married Fischer, the
hautboy-player, came back home to live, and
her disorder was not bad enough to prevent
her being a cause of great happiness to her
father. The other daughter never married.
Gainsborough says that he spent a thousand
pounds a year, but he also gave to everybody
who asked of him, and to many who asked
nothing, so that he must have made a great
deal of money during his lifetime, by his art.
It is said that the "Boy at the Stile" was
bestowed on Colonel Hamilton for his fine
playing of a solo on the violin. A lady who
had done the artist some trifling service
received twenty drawings as a reward, which
she pasted on the walls of her rooms without
the slightest idea of their value.</p> 

<p>Gainsborough got up early in the morning,
but did not work more than five hours. He
liked his friends, his music, and his wife, and
spent much time with them. He was witty,
and while he sketched pictures in the evening,
with his wife and daughters at his side, he kept
them laughing with his droll sayings.</p> 

<p>The last days of Gainsborough showed him 
<a name="120"></a>
to be a hero. He died of cancer, and some
time before he knew what his disease was he
must have suffered a great deal. There is a
story that is very pathetic of a dinner with his
friends, Beaumont and Sheridan. Usually,
he was the gayest of the gay, but of late all his
friends had noticed that gaiety came to him
with effort. Upon the night of this dinner,
Sheridan had been his wittiest, and had tried
his hardest to make Gainsborough cheer up,
till finally, the artist, finding it impossible to
get out of his sad mood, asked Sheridan if
he would leave the table and speak with him
alone. The two friends went out together.
"Now don't laugh, but listen," Gainsborough
said; "I shall soon die. I know it; I feel it.
I have less time to live than my looks infer,
but I do not fear death. What oppresses my
mind is this: I have many acquaintances,
few friends; and as I wish to have one worthy
man to accompany me to the grave, I am
desirous of bespeaking you. Will you come?
Aye or no!" At that Sheridan, who was greatly
shocked, tried to cheer him, but Gainsborough
would not return to the table, till he got the
promise, which of course Sheridan made.</p> 

<p>It was not very long after this that a famous
trial took place--that of Warren Hastings. It
was in Westminster Hall, and Gainsborough
went to listen several times. On the last
occasion, he became so interested in what was
happening that he did not notice a window
<a name="121"></a>
open at his back. After a little he said to a
friend that he "felt something inexpressibly
cold" touch his neck. On his return home he
told of the strange feeling to his wife. Then
he sent for a doctor, and there was found a
little swelling. The doctor said it was not
serious and that when the weather grew
warmer it would disappear; but all the while
Gainsborough felt certain that it would mean
his death. A short time after that he told his
sister that he knew himself to have a cancer,
and that was true.</p> 

<p>When he felt that he must die, he fell to
thinking of many things in the past, and
wished to right certain mistakes of his behaviour
as far as possible.</p> 

<p>He sent to Sir Joshua Reynolds and asked
him to come and see him, since he could not
go to see Sir Joshua. Reynolds went and then
Gainsborough told him of his regret that he
had shown so much ill-will and jealousy toward
so great and worthy a rival. Reynolds was
very generous and tried to make Gainsborough
understand that all was forgiven and forgotten.
He left his brother artist much relieved and
happier, and he afterward said: "The impression
on my mind was that his regret at
losing life was principally the regret of leaving
his art." As Reynolds left the dying man's
room, Gainsborough called after him: "We
are all going to heaven--and Van Dyck is of
the company."</p> 

<p><a name="122"></a>
He was buried in Kew Churchyard and the
ceremonies were followed by Reynolds and
five of the Royal Academicians, who forgot
all Gainsborough's eccentricities of conduct
toward them in their honest grief over his
death. He was one of the first three dozen
original members of the Royal Academy.</p> 

<center>PLATE--PORTRAIT OF MRS. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN</center>

<p>This picture is now in the collection of Lord
Rothschild, London. Mrs. Sheridan was the
loveliest lady of her time. She was the daughter
of Thomas Linley, and a singer.</p> 

<p>She came from a home which was called "a
nest of nightingales," because all in it were
musicians. The father had a large family and
made up his mind to become the best musician
of his time in his locality in order to support them.
He was successful, and in turn most of his children
became musicians. His lovely daughter,
Eliza (Mrs. Sheridan), he bound to himself as an
apprentice and taught her till she was twenty-one,
insisting that she "serve out her time" to him,
that she might become a perfect singer. The
story of this beautiful lady seems to belong to
the story of Gainsborough's portrait and shall
be told here.</p> 

<p>When she was a very little girl, no more than
eight years old, she was so beautiful that as she
stood at the door of the pump room in Bath to sell 
<a name="123"></a>
tickets for her father's concerts, everyone bought
them from her. When she was a very young
woman her father engaged her to marry a Mr.
Long, sixty years old. She did not seem to mind
what arrangements her father made for her,
but continued to sing and attend to her business,
till after the wedding gowns were all made and
everything ready for the marriage, when she
happened to meet the brilliant Richard Brinsley
Sheridan, whose plays were so fashionable, and
she fell deeply in love with him. She told Mr.
Long she would not marry him, and without
much objection he gave her up, but her father
was very angry and he threatened to sue Mr. Long
for letting his daughter go. Then the beautiful
lady ran away to Calais and married Mr. Sheridan
without her father's permission; but she came
home again and said nothing of what she had
done, kept on singing and helping her father
earn money for his family. One day, Mr.
Sheridan was wounded in a duel which he had
fought with one of his wife's admirers, and when
she heard the news she screamed, "my husband,
my husband," so that everybody knew she was
married to the fascinating playwright. Sheridan
for some reason did not at once come and get her,
nor arrange for them to have a home together.
For a good while she continued to sing; and once
hearing her in oratorio, Sheridan fell in love
with his wife all over again. He took her from
her home and would never let her sing again in
public. They remarried publicly and went to 
<a name="124"></a>
live in London. He was not at all a rich and
famous man at that time--only a poor law-student--but
he would not let his wife make
the fortune she might easily have made, by
singing.</p> 

<p>This must have made his beautiful wife very
sad, but she made no complaint at giving up
her music and letting him silence her lovely
voice, but turned all her attention to advancing
his fortunes. She worked for him even harder
than she had for her father, and that was saying
a great deal. When he became a great writer
of plays his wife took charge of all the accounts
of his Drury Lane Theatre, and when he was in
the House of Commons she acted as his secretary.
Sheridan died in great poverty and wretchedness,
and it is believed had his self-sacrificing wife
not died before him she would have looked after
his affairs so well that he would not have lost his
fortune. Gainsborough painted the portraits of
Sheridan's father-in-law, and of Samuel Linley;
and it was said that this last portrait was painted
in forty-eight minutes. Among his other portraits
are: eight of George III., Sir John
Skynner, Admiral Hood, Colonel St. Leger,
and "The Blue Boy"; but he was first and last
a landscape painter of highest genius.</p> 

<p><a name="125"></a></p>
<h1>XVI</h1>

<h1>JEAN LEON GEROME</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Zhahn Lay'on Zhay-rome)<br>
<i>French, Semi-classical School</i><br>
1824-1904<br>
<i>Pupil of Delaroche</i></center>

<p>One cannot write much more than the date
of birth and death of a man who lived until
three or four years of the time of writing, so we may
only say that Gérôme was one of the most brilliant
of modern French painters. He was born at
Vesoul and his father was a goldsmith. Thus
he probably had no very great difficulty in getting
a start in his work. The prejudice against having
an artist in the family was dying out, and as a
prosperous goldsmith we may believe that his
father had means enough to give his son good
opportunities.</p> 

<p>Gérôme, like Millet, studied under Delaroche,
but became no such characteristic painter as he.
While studying with Delaroche he also was taking
the course in l'Ecole des Beaux-Arts.</p> 

<p>His first exhibited picture was "The Cock
Fight," and he won a third class medal by it.</p> 

<p>Almost always this painter has chosen his
subjects from ancient or classic life, and his
pictures are not always decent, but he painted
with much care, the details of his work are 
<a name="126"></a>
very finely done and their vivid colour is
fascinating.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE SWORD DANCE</center>

<p>This painting may be seen in the Metropolitan
Museum of Art in New York City. The scene
is full of action and interest, but perhaps the
details of dress, mosaic decoration upon the walls,
patterns of the rugs, the coloured and jewelled
lamps and windows are the most splendidly
painted of all.</p> 

<p>The central figure is a dancing girl, only partly
draped, balancing a sword on her head, while
a brilliant green veil flies from head and face.
Other Oriental women squat upon the floor
watching her with a half indolent expression,
while their Oriental masters and their friends
sit in pomp at one side, absorbed in the dance
and in the girl. The expressions upon all the
faces are excellent and, the jewelled light that
falls upon the group, the rich clothing, the grace
of the dancer--all make a fascinating picture
of a genre type. Other Gérômes are "Daphnis
and Chloe," "Leda," and "The Duel after
the Masked Ball."</p> 

<p><a name="127"></a></p>
<h1>XVII</h1>

<h1>GHIRLANDAJO</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Geer-lan-da'yo)<br>
<i>Florentine School</i><br>
1449-1494<br>
<i>Pupil of Fra Bartolommeo</i></center>

<p>It is a good deal of a name--Domenico
di Tommaso di Currado Bigordi--and
it would appear that the child who bore it
was under obligation to become a good deal
of a something before he died.</p> 

<p>Italian and Spanish painters generally had
large names to live up to, and the one known as
Ghirlandajo did nobly.</p> 

<p>His father was a goldsmith and a popular part
of his work was the making of golden garlands
for the hair of rich Italian ladies. His work
was so beautiful that it gained for him the name
of Ghirlandajo, meaning the garland-twiner, a
name that lived after him, in the great art of his
son. Domenico began as a worker in mosaic,
a maker of pictures or designs with many coloured
pieces of glass or stone.</p> 

<p>Ghirlandajo's art was no improvement on that
of his teacher, but he in turn became the teacher
of Michael Angelo.</p> 

<p>The Florentine school of painting, to which
Ghirlandajo belonged, was not so famous for 
<a name="128"></a>
colour as the Venetian school, but it had many
other elements to commend it. One cannot
expect Ghirlandajo to rank with Titian, Rubens,
or other "colourists" of his own and later periods,
but he did the very best work of his day and school.
He attained to fame through his choice of types
of faces for his models, and by his excellent
grouping of figures.</p> 

<p>Until his day, the faces introduced into paintings
were likely to be unattractive, but he chose
pleasing ones, and he painted the folds of garments
beautifully. He was not entirely original
in his ideas, but he carried out those which others
had thus far failed to make interesting.</p> 

<p>Often, in his wish to paint exactly what he
saw, he softened nothing and therefore his
figures were repulsive, but Fra Bartolommeo's
pupil gave promise of what Michael Angelo was
to fulfill.</p> 

<p>Ghirlandajo and Michael Angelo were a good
deal alike in their emotional natures. Both
sought great spaces in which to paint, and both
chose to paint great frescoes. Indeed Ghirlandajo
had the extraordinary ambition to put
frescoes on all the fortification walls about
Florence. It certainly would have made the
city a great picture gallery to have had its walls
forever hung with the pictures of one master.
Had he painted them, inside and out, when such
an enemy as Napoleon came along, with his love
of art, and his fashion of taking all that he saw
to Paris, he would likely enough have camped 
<a name="129"></a>
outside the walls while he decided what part of
the gallery he would transfer to the Louvre.</p> 

<p>One of the reasons that Ghirlandajo is famous
is that he often chose well known personages
for his models, and as he painted just what
he saw, did not idealise his subject, he gave
to the world amazing portraits, as well as fine
paintings. The same thing was done by
painters of a far different school, at another
period. The Dutch and Flemish painters
were in the habit of using their neighbours
as models.</p> 

<p>Ghirlandajo is classed among religious
painters, but let us compare some of his
"religious" paintings with those of Raphael
or Murillo, and see the result.</p> 

<p>He painted seven frescos on the walls of the
Santa Maria Novella in Florence, all scenes
of Biblical history, as Ghirlandajo imagined
them. They show him to have been a fine
artist, but to have had not much idea of history,
and to have had little sense of fitness.</p> 

<p>Ghirlandajo's seven subjects are taken from
legends of the Virgin, and the greatest represents
Mary's visit to Elizabeth; it is called
"The Visitation," and it is a fresco about
eighteen feet long painted on the choir wall.</p> 

<p>Let us imagine the possible scene. The
Virgin Mary came from Cana, a little town in
Galilee placed in the hills about nine miles
from Nazareth, the home of the lowliest and
the poorest, of a kindly pastoral people living 
<a name="130"></a>
in the open air, needing and wanting very
little, simple in their habits. Elizabeth, Mary's
old cousin, lived in Judea, and St. Luke writes
thus: "Mary arose in those days and went
into the hill country with haste, into a city
of Judea; and entered into the house of Zacharias"
(Elizabeth's husband) "and saluted
Elizabeth."</p> 

<p>This record had been made at least eleven
hundred years before Ghirlandajo painted in the
Santa Maria Novella, and from it one cannot
imagine that Mary made any preparation for
her journey, nor does it suggest that Elizabeth
had any chance to arrange a reception for her.
Even had she done so, it must have been of
the simplest description, at that time among
those people. One can imagine a lowly home;
an aged woman coming out to meet her young
relative either at her door or in the high road.</p> 

<p>There may have been surroundings of fruit
and flowers, a stretch of highroad or a hospitable
doorway; but the wildest imagination
could not picture what Ghirlandajo did.</p> 

<p>He paints Elizabeth flanked with handmaidens,
as if she were some royal personage,
instead of a priest's wife in fairly comfortable
circumstances where comfort was easily
obtained. Mary appears to be escorted by
ladies-in-waiting, hardly a likely circumstance
since she was affianced to no richer or more
important person than a carpenter of Galilee.
Possibly the three ladies that stand behind 
<a name="131"></a>
Mary in, the picture are merely lookers-on,
but in that case the visit of Mary would seem
to have been of public importance, especially
as there are youths near by who are also much
interested in one woman's hasty visit to another.
The rich brocades worn by Elizabeth's waiting
ladies are splendid indeed and the landscape
is fine--a rich Italian landscape with architecture
of the most up-to-date sort--showing,
in short, that the artist lacked historical
imagination. He found some models, made a
purely decorative painting with an Italian
setting and called it "The Visitation." The
doorway on the right is distinctly renaissance.</p> 

<p>Such a painting as this is not "religious,"
nor is it historic, nor does it suggest a subject;
it is merely a fine picture better coloured than
most of those of the Florentine school. There
is another painting of this same subject by
Ghirlandajo in the Louvre, but it is no nearer
truth than the one in the Santa Maria.</p> 

<p>Ghirlandajo painted other than religious
subjects, and one of them, at least, is quite
repulsive. It is the picture of an old man,
with a beautiful little child embracing him.
The old man may have tenderness and love in
his face, but his heavy features, his warty
nose, do not make one think of pleasant
things and one does not care to imagine the
dear little child kissing the grotesque old fellow.</p> 

<p>It was before Ghirlandajo's time that another
painter had discovered the use of oil in mixing 
<a name="132"></a>
paints. Previously colours had been mixed
in water with some gelatinous substance, such
as the white and yolk of an egg, to give the
paint a proper texture or consistency. This
preparation was called "distemper," and frescoes
were made by using this upon plaster
while it was still wet. Plaster and colours dried
together, and the painting became a part of
the wall, not to be removed except by taking
the plaster with it.</p> 

<p>The different gluey substances used had
often the effect of making the colours lose their
tone and they presented a glazed surface when
used upon wood, a favourite material with
artists.</p> 

<p>There are numberless anecdotes written of this
artist and his brother, and one of these shows
he had a temper. The brothers were engaged in
a monastery at Passignano painting a picture
of the "Last Supper." While at work upon it,
they lived in the house. The coarse fare did
not suit Ghirlandajo, and one night he could
endure it no longer. Springing from his seat in
the refectory he flung the soup all over the monk
who had served it, and taking a great loaf of
bread he beat him with it so hard that the poor
monk was carried to his cell, nearly dead. The
abbot had gone to bed, but hearing the rumpus
he thought it was nothing less than the roof
falling in, and he hurried to the room where he
found the brothers still raging over their dinner.
David shouted out to him, when the abbot tried 
<a name="133"></a>
to reprove the artist, that his brother was worth
more than any "pig of an abbot who ever
lived!"</p> 

<p>It is recorded in the documents found in the
Confraternity of St. Paul that:</p> 

<p>Domenico de Ghurrado Bighordi, painter, called del
Grillandaio, died on Saturday morning, on the 11th day
of January, 1493 (o.s.), of a pestilential fever, and the
overseers allowed no one to see the dead man, and would
not have him buried by day. So he was buried, in Santa
Maria Novella, on Saturday night after sunset, and may
God forgive him! This was a very great loss for he was
highly esteemed for his many qualities, and is universally
lamented.</p> 

<p>The artist left nine children behind him.</p> 

<p>Ghirlandajo's pictures may be found in the
Louvre, the Berlin Museum, the Dresden,
Munich, and London galleries. Most children
will find it hard to see their beauty.</p> 

<p>Great men are likely to come in groups, and
with Ghirlandajo there are associated Botticelli
and Fra Filippo Lippi.</p> 

<center>PLATE--PORTRAIT OF GIOVANNA DEGLI ALBIZI</center>

<p>This lovely lady was the wife of one of the
painter's patrons, Giovanni Tornabuoni, through
whom he received the commission for a series of
frescoes in the choir of the Santa Maria Novella,
Florence. The subjects chosen were sacred, but
since Ghirlandajo, no more than his neighbours,
knew what the Virgin or her contemporaries
looked like, he saw no reason why he should not 
<a name="134"></a>
compliment some of the great ones of his own
city and his own time by painting them in to
represent the different characters of Holy Writ.
So, as one of the ladies attendant upon Elizabeth
when Mary comes to visit her, we have this
signora of the fifteenth century. The artist made
another picture of her, the one here shown, but
in the same dress and posed the same as she had
been for the church fresco. This accounts for
its dignity and simplicity. It would seem like
a bas-relief cut out of marble were it not for
its wonderful colouring. It is in the Rudolf
Kann Collection, Paris. This artist's other
pictures are "Adoration of the Shepherds,"
"Adoration of the Magi," "Madonna and
Child with Saints," "Three Saints and God
the Father," "Coronation of the Virgin," and
"Portrait of Old Man and Boy."</p> 

<p><a name="135"></a></p>
<h1>XVIII</h1>

<h1>GIOTTO (DI BORDONE)</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Jot-to)<br>
<i>Florentine School</i><br>
1276-1337<br>
<i>Pupil of Cimabue</i></center>

<p>Giotto painted upon wood, and in "distemper"--the 
mixture of colour with
egg or some other jelly-like substance. We know
nothing of his childhood except that he was a
shepherd, as we learn from a story told of him and
his teacher, Cimabue.</p> 

<p>The story runs that one day while Giotto was
watching his sheep, high up on a mountain,
Cimabue was walking abroad to study nature,
and he ran across a shepherd boy who was
drawing the figure of a sheep, with a piece of
slate upon a stone. In those days we can imagine
how rare it was to find one who could draw anything,
ever so rudely. Immediately Cimabue
saw a chance to make an artist and he asked the
little shepherd if he would like to be taught art
in his studio. Giotto was overjoyed at the
opportunity, and at once he left the mountains
for the town, the shepherd's crook for the brush.</p> 

<p>In those days the studio of one like Cimabue
was really a workshop. Artists had to grind
their own colours, prepare their own panels upon 
<a name="136"></a>
which to paint, and do a hundred other things
of a workman rather than an artist kind in
connection with their painting. Such a studio
was crowded with apprentices--boys who did
these jobs while learning from the master.
Their teaching consisted in watching the artist
and now and then receiving advice from him.</p> 

<p>It was into such a shop as this, in Florence,
that Giotto went, and soon he was to become
greater than his master. Even so, we cannot
think him great, excepting for his time, because
his pictures, compared with later art, are crude,
stiff, and strange.</p> 

<p>No pupil was permitted to use a brush till he
had learned all the craft of colour grinding and the
like, and this was supposed to take about six
years. These workshops were likely to be dull,
gloomy places, and only a strong desire to do
such things as they saw their master doing, would
induce a boy to persevere through the first
drudgery of the work. Giotto persevered, and
not only became an original painter, at a time
when even Cimabue hardly made figures appear
human in outline, but he designed the great
Campanile in Florence, and he saw it partly
finished before he died. The Campanile is a
wonder of architecture, but Giotto's Madonnas
had to be improved upon, as certainly as he had
improved upon those of Cimabue.</p> 

<p>There are many amusing stories of Giotto,
mainly telling of his good nature, and his ugly
appearance, which everyone forgot in appreciation 
<a name="137"></a>
of his truly kind heart. Once a visit was made
to his studio by the King of Naples, after the
artist had become famous. Giotto was painting
busily, though the day was very hot. The King
entered, and bade Giotto not to be disturbed but
to continue his work, adding: "Still, if I were you,
I should not paint in such hot weather." Giotto
looked up with a laugh in his eye: "Neither would
I--if I were you, Sire!" he answered.</p> 

<p>There is a famous saying: "As round as
Giotto's "O," and this is how it came about.
The pope wanted the best of the Florentine
artists to do some work in Rome for him and he
sent out to them for examples of their work.
When the pope's messenger came to Giotto the
artist was very busy. When asked for some of
his work to show the pope, he paused, snatched
a piece of paper and with the brush he had been
using, which was full of red paint, he hurriedly
drew a circle and gave it to the messenger who
stared at him.</p> 

<p>"But--is this <i>all</i>?" he asked.</p> 

<p>"All--yes--and too much. Put it with
the others." This perfect circle and the
account the messenger gave of his visit so delighted
the pope that Giotto was chosen from all the
Florentine artists to decorate the Roman
buildings.</p> 

<p>Thus Giotto worked till he was fifty-seven or
eight years old when he put aside his brush
and turned to sculpture and architecture.
Meantime he had far outstripped his master in 
<a name="138"></a>
art. The arrangement of the groups is about the
same, but the figures look human and the
draperies are more natural, while he gives the
appearance of length, breadth, and thickness
to his thrones and enclosures. We shall not
choose a Madonna for illustration, but another
of Giotto's masterpieces, remembering that good
as he was in his time, he seems amazingly bad
compared with those who came after him.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE MEETING OF ST. JOHN AND ST. ANNA
AT JERUSALEM.</center>

<p>In 1303 a certain Enrico Scrovegno had a
private chapel built in the Arena at Padua and
he sent for Giotto to come there and adorn the
whole of its walls and ceiling with frescoes.
These remain, though the chapel is now emptied
of all else, and they suffice to bring scores of art-lovers
to Padua. The picture here reproduced
represents the meeting and reconciliation between
the father and mother of the Virgin before her
birth. The peculiarly shaped eyes and eyebrows
that Giotto gives to all his characters are specially
noteworthy here as in every one of the thirty-eight
frescoes. There are three rows of pictures,
one above the other and in them are portrayed
the principal scenes in the lives of Christ and the
Virgin. The painter here reached his high-water
mark, showed the very best he could produce
in sincere, restrained art.
<a name="139"></a></p>
<h1>XIX</h1>

<h1>FRANZ HALS</h1>

<center><i>Dutch School</i><br>
1580-04-1666 <br>
<i>Pupil of Karel Van Mander</i></center>

<p>Franz Hals belonged to a family which
for two hundred years had been highly
respected in Haarlem in the Netherlands. The
father of the painter left that town for political
reasons in 1579, and it was at Antwerp that
Franz was born sometime between that date
and 1585. His parents took him back to Haarlem
as an infant, and that is the town with which
his name and fame are most closely associated.</p> 

<p>Little is known of his early life except that he
began his studies with Karel Van Mander and
Cornelis Cornelissen. What we know of his
family life is not to his credit. In the parish
register of 1611 is recorded the birth of a son to
Franz Hals and five years later he is on the public
records for abusing his wife, who died shortly
afterward. He married again within a year
and the second wife bore him many children and
survived him ten years. Five of his seven sons
became painters.</p> 

<p>Franz Hals drank too much and mixed too
freely with the kind of disreputable people he
<a name="140"></a>
loved to paint, but he never became so degraded
that his hand lost its cunning, or his eye its keen
vision for that which he wished to portray. In
1644, he was made a director of the Guild of St.
Lucas, an institution for the protection of arts
and crafts in Haarlem, but from that time
onward he sank in popular esteem, deservedly.
He fell into debt, then into pauperism, and when
he died, about the age of eighty-six, he was buried
at public expense in the choir of St. Bavon
Church in Haarlem.</p> 

<p>It was in the year 1616 that Hals first became
known as a master of his art by the painting of
the St. Jovis Shooting Company, one of the
clubs composed of volunteers banded together
for the defence of the town should occasion arise.
Such guilds were common throughout Holland,
and they became a favourite subject with Hals,
as with other painters of the time, who vied with
one another in portraiture of the different 
members. These groups were hung upon the walls
of the chambers where meetings were held for
social purposes in times of peace. The men
of highest rank are always given the most
conspicuous places in the pictures. The flag
is generally the one bit of gorgeous colour in the
scene; but Franz Hals seized the opportunity to
show his wonderful skill in detail while painting
the cuffs and ruffs worn by these grandees. In
all his work there is an impression of strength
rather than of beauty; it is the charm of 
expressiveness he is aiming at, rather than the charm 
<a name="141"></a>
of grace and colour to which the Italian school
was devoted. He differed from that school, also,
in his choice of subjects, for he was distinctly
and almost entirely a portrait painter, and within
his own limited range he is unsurpassed. A
wonderful collection of his works is to be seen in
the Haarlem Town Hall.</p>

<center>PLATE--THE NURSE AND THE CHILD</center>

<p>Considering the woeful life that Franz Hals led,
it is amazing to think that he of all artists is the
best painter of good humour. He puts a smile
on the face of nearly every one of his "leading
characters," whether it be a modest young girl,
a hideous old woman, a strolling musician, or a
riotous soldier, and in every case the laugh suits
the subject. It may have been his own easygoing
shiftlessness, his way of casting care aside
with a jest that enabled him to live so long and
to accomplish so much in spite of his poverty
and other misfortunes.</p> 

<p>The roguish look upon the face of this baby
of the house of Ilpenstein makes it appear older
than the pleasant faced nurse. The dress of the
child is such as Hals delighted to spend his
talents upon. The picture is in the Berlin
Gallery.</p>

<p>Among his best known paintings are "The
Laughing Cavalier," "The Fool," "The Man
with the Sword," and "Hille Bobbe. the Witch
of Haarlem."
<a name="142"></a></p>
<h1>XX</h1>

<h1>MEYNDERT HOBBEMA</h1>

<center><i>Dutch School</i><br>
1637-1709<br>
<i>Pupil of Jacob van Ruisdael</i></center>

<p>When a man becomes famous many
people claim his acquaintance, and
often many places his birthplace. In Hobbema's
case it has never been decided whether
he was born in the little town of Koeverdam,
or in the city of Haarlem or in Amsterdam. Nor
is it quite certain when he was born; but what
he did afterward, we are all acquainted with.</p> 

<p>No one knows much about the life of this
artist, but his master was doubtless his uncle,
van Ruisdael. Hobbema was dead a hundred
years before the world acknowledged his genius,
thus he reaped no reward for hard work and
ambition. He, like Rembrandt, died in great
poverty, and with nearly the same surroundings.
Rembrandt died forsaken in Roosegraft Street,
Amsterdam, and Hobbema died in the same
locality. We must speak chiefly about his
work, since we know little of his personality
or affairs.</p> 

<p>If Böcklin's pictures seem to be composed
of vertical lines, Hobbema's are as startling
in their positive vertical and horizontal lines
<a name="143"></a>
combined. We are not likely to find elevations
or gentle, gradual depressions in his
landscapes, but straight horizons, long trunked,
straight limbed trees; and the landscape seems
to be punctured here and there by an upright
house or a spire. It is startlingly beautiful,
and so characteristic that after seeing one or
two of Hobbema's pictures we are likely to
know his work again wherever we may find it.</p> 

<p>Hobbema got at the soul of a landscape. It
was as if one painted a face that was dear to
one, and not only made it a good likeness but
also painted the person as one felt him to be--all 
the tenderness, or maybe all the sternness.</p> 

<p>It may be that Hobbema's failure to get
money and honours, or at the very least, kind
recognition as a great artist, while he lived,
influenced his painting, and made him see
mostly the sad side of beauty, nor it is certain
that his landscapes give one a strange feeling
of sadness and desolation, even when he paints
a scene of plenty and fulness.</p> 

<p>The French have made a phrase for his kind
of work, <i>paysage intime</i>--meaning the
beloved country--the one best known. It
is a fine phrase, and it was first used to describe
Rousseau's and Corot's work; but it especially
applies to Hobbema's.</p> 

<p>While this artist was not yet recognised,
his uncle van Ruisdael was known as a great
artist. The family must have been rich in
spirit that gave so much genius to the world.
<a name="144"></a>
Hobbema certainly loved his art above all
things, for he had no return during his lifetime,
save what was given by the joy of work. There
are those who complain that Hobbema was a
poor colourist. True, he used little besides grays
and a peculiar green, which seemed especially
to please him; but since that colouring belonged
to the subjects he chose, one cannot complain
on the ground that what he did was unsatisfying.
For lack of knowledge about him we
can think of him as a man of moods, sad,
desolate ones at that; because his work is too
extreme and uniform in its character for us
to believe his method was affected.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE AVENUE, MIDDELHARNIS, HOLLAND</center>

<p>This perhaps is one of the most characteristic
of Hobbema's pictures. Note a strange hopelessness
in the scene, as well as beauty. The
tall and solemn trees, the high light upon the
road, suggesting to us all sorts of joys struggling
through the cheerlessness of life. What other
artist would have chosen such a corner of
nature for a subject to paint? To quote a
fine description:</p> 

<p>"He loved the country-side, studied it as a
lover, and has depicted it with such intimacy of
truth that the road to Middelharnis seems
as real to-day as it did over a hundred years
ago to the artist. We see the poplars, with
<a name="145"></a>
their lopped stems, lifting their bushy tops
against that wide, high sky which floats over
a flat country, full of billowy clouds as the sky
near the North Sea is apt to be. Deep ditches
skirt the road, which drain and collect the
water for purposes of irrigation, and later on
will join some deeper, wider canal, for purposes
of navigation. We get a glimpse on the right,
of patient perfection of gardening, where a
man is pruning his grafted fruit trees; farther
on a group of substantial farm buildings. On
the opposite side of the road stretches a long,
flat meadow, or "polder," up to the little
village which nestles so snugly around its tall
church tower; the latter fulfilling also the
purpose of a beacon, lit by night, to guide the
wayfarer on sea and land; scene of tireless
industry, comfortable prosperity, and smiling
peace. ... Pride and love of country
breathe through the whole scene. To many
of us the picture smiles less than it thrills
with sadness. Perhaps it speaks thus only
to those who find a kind of hurt in the revival
of the spring, which promises so much and
may fulfill so little."</p> 

<p>Hobbema's "Watermill" is very well-known
and so are his "Wooded Landscape," and
"Haarlem's Little Forest."</p> 

<p><a name="146"></a></p>
<h1>XXI</h1>

<h1>WILLIAM HOGARTH</h1>

<center><i>School of Hogarth (English)</i><br>
1697-1764 </center>

<p>William Hogarth, like Watteau, originated
his own school; in short there never
was anybody like him. He was an editorial
writer in charcoal and paint, or in other words
he had a story to tell every time he made a picture,
and there was an argument in it, a right and a
wrong, and he presented his point of view by
making pictures.</p> 

<p>English artists in literature and in painting
have done some great reformatory work. Charles
Dickens overthrew some dreadful abuses by
writing certain novels. The one which has most
interest for children is the awful story of Dotheboys'
Hall, which exposed the ill treatment of
pupils in a certain class of English schools. What
Dickens and Charles Reade did in literature,
Hogarth undertook to do in painting. He
described social shams; painted things as they
were, thus making many people ashamed and
possibly better.</p> 

<p>Italians had always painted saints and 
Madonnas, but Hogarth pretended to despise 
that sort of work, and painted only human 
beings. He did not really despise Raphael, 
<a name="147"></a>
Titian, and their brother artists, but he was so
disgusted with the use that had been made of
them and their schools of art, to the entire
exclusion of more familiar subjects, that he
turned satirist and ridiculed everything.</p> 

<p>First of all, Hogarth was an engraver. He was
born in London on the 10th December, 1697, and
eighteen days later was baptised in the church
of St. Bartholemew the Great. His father was
a school teacher and a "literary hack," which
means that in literature he did whatever he could
find to do, reporting, editing, and so on.</p> 

<p>Hogarth must early have known something
of vagabond life, for his father's life during his
own youth must have brought him into association
with all sorts of people. He knew how
madhouses were run, how kings dined, how
beggars slept in goods boxes, and many other
useful items.</p> 

<p>Hogarth said of himself: "Shows of all sorts
gave me uncommon pleasure when an infant,
and mimicry, common to all children, was
remarkable in me.... My exercises, when
at school, were more remarkable for the ornaments
which adorned them, than for the exercises
themselves." He became an engraver or silver-plater,
being apprenticed to Mr. Ellis Gamble,
at the sign of the "Golden Angel," Cranbourne
Alley, Leicester Fields.</p> 

<p>Engraving on silver plate was all well enough,
but Hogarth aspired to become an engraver on
copper, and he has said that this was about the 
<a name="148"></a>
highest ambition he had while he was in Cranbourne
Alley.</p> 

<p>The shop-card which he engraved for Mr.
Ellis Gamble may have been the first significant
piece of work he undertook. The card is still
among the Hogarth relics. He set up as an
engraver on his own account, though he did study
a little in Sir James Thornhill's art school;
but whatever he learned he turned to characteristic
account.</p> 

<p>He continued to make shop-cards, shop-bills,
and book-plates. Finally, in 1727, a maker of
tapestry engaged Hogarth to sketch him a design
end he set to work ambitiously He worked
throughout that year upon the design, but when
he took it to the man it was refused. The truth
was that the man who had commissioned the
work had heard that Hogarth was "an engraver
and no painter," and he had so little intelligence
that he did not intend to accept his design,
however much it might have pleased him.
Hogarth sued the man for his refusal and he won
the suit. He next began to make what he called 
"conversation pieces," little paintings about a
foot high of groups of people, the figures being 
all portraits. These were very fashionable for
a time and made some money for the artist.
Both he and Watteau were fond of the stage,
and both painted scenes from operas and plays.</p>

<p>In time he moved into lodgings at the "Golden
Head," in Leicester Fields, and there he made his
home. He had already begun the great paintings 
<a name="149"></a>
which were to make him famous among artists.
These were a series of pictures, telling stories
of fashionable and other life. His own story of
how he came to think of the picture series was
that he had always wished to present dramatic
stories--present them in scenes as he saw them
on the stage.</p> 

<p>He had married the daughter of Sir James
Thornhill, and had never been thought of kindly
by his father-in-law till he made so much stir
with his first series. Then Sir James approved
of him, and Hogarth found life more pleasing.</p> 

<p>There are very few anecdotes to tell of the
artist's life, and the story of his pictures is much
more amusing. One of his first satires was made
into a pantomime by Theophilus Gibber, and
another person made it into an opera. Many
pamphlets and poems were written about it,
and finally china was painted with its scenes and
figures. There was as much to cry as to laugh 
over in Hogarth's pieces and that is what made
them so truly great. One of his great picture
series was called the "Rake's Progress" and it was
a warning to all young men against leading too
gay a life. It showed the "Rake" at the beginning
of his misfortunes, gambling, and in the last
reaping the reward of his follies in a debtor's
prison and the madhouse. There are eight
pictures in that set.</p> 

<p>In this series, especially in the fifth picture,
there are extraordinary proofs of Hogarth's
completeness of ideas. Upon the wall in the 
<a name="150"></a>
room wherein the "Rake" marries an old woman
for her money, the Ten Commandments are
hung, all cracked, and the Creed also is cracked
and nearly smudged out; while the poor-box
is covered with cobwebs. The eight pictures
brought to Hogarth only seventy guineas.</p> 

<p>One of his pictures was suggested to him
by an incident which greatly angered him.
He had started for France on some errand of
his own, and was in the very act of sketching
the old gate at Calais, when he was arrested
as a spy. Now Hogarth was a hard-headed
Englishman, and when he was hustled back
to England without being given time for
argument, he was so enraged that he made his
picture as grotesque as possible, to the lasting
chagrin of France. He painted the French
soldiers as the most absurd, thin little fellows
imaginable, and that picture has largely influenced
people's idea of the French soldier
all over the English-speaking world.</p> 

<p>As Hogarth grew old he grew also a little
bitter and revengeful toward his enemies,
often taking his revenge in the ordinary way
of belittling the people he disliked, in his
paintings.</p> 

<p>Hogarth came before Reynolds or Gainsborough;
in short, was the first great English
artist, and his chief power lay in being able
instantly to catch a fleeting expression, and to
interpret it. An incident of Hogarth's youth
illustrates this. He had got into a row in a 
<a name="151"></a>
pot-house with one of the hangers-on, and
when someone struck the brawler over the
head with a pewter pot, there, in the midst of
excitement and rioting, Hogarth whipped out
his pencil and hastily sketched the expression
of the chap who had been hit.</p> 

<p>Hogarth was friends with most of the
theatre managers, and one of his souvenirs
was a gold pass given him by Tyers, the
director of Vauxhall Gardens, which entitled
Hogarth and his family to entrance during
their lives. This was in return for some
"passes," which Hogarth had engraved for
Tyer.</p> 

<p>Upon one occasion Hogarth set off with
some companions for a trip to the Isle of
Sheppey. Incidentally Forest wrote a sketch
of their journey and Hogarth illustrated it.
That work is to be found, carefully preserved,
in the British Museum. The repeated copying
and reproduction for sale of his pictures brought
about the first effort to protect his
works of art by copyright. But it was not
till he had done the "Rake's Progress" that
he was able to protect himself at all, and even
then not completely.</p> 

<p>Just before his death he was staying at
Chiswick, but the day before he died he was
removed to his house in Leicester Fields.
He was buried in the Chiswick churchyard;
and in that suburb of London may still be seen
his old house and a mulberry tree where he
<a name="152"></a>
often sat amusing children for whom he cared
very much. Garrick wrote the following
epitaph for his tomb:</p> 

<blockquote>
Farewell, great Painter of Mankind!<br>
Who reached the noblest point of art,<br>
Whose pictured Morals charm the Mind <br>
And through the Eye correct the Heart.<br>

<p>If Genius fire thee, Reader, stay;<br>
If Nature touch thee, drop a tear;<br>
If neither move thee, turn away,<br>
For Hogarth's honour'd dust lies here.</p> 
</blockquote>

<center>PLATE--THE MARRIAGE CONTRACT</center>

<p>The picture used in illustration here is part
of probably the very greatest art-sermon ever
painted, called "Marriage à la Mode." The
story of it is worth telling:</p> 

<p>"The first act is laid in the drawing-room
of the Viscount Squanderfield"--is not that
a fine name for the character? "On the left,
his lordship is seated, pointing with complacent
pride to his family tree, which has its roots
in William the Conqueror. But his rent roll
had been squandered, the gouty foot suggesting
whither some of it has gone; and to restore his
fortunes he is about to marry his heir to the
daughter of a rich alderman. The latter is
seated awkwardly at the table, holding the
marriage contract duly sealed, signed and
delivered; the price paid for it, being shown
by the pile of money on the table and the bunch 
<a name="153"></a>
of cancelled mortgages which the lawyer is
presenting to the nobleman, who refuses
to soil his elegant fingers with them. Over
on the left is his weakling son, helping himself
at this critical turn of his affairs, to a pinch
of snuff while he gazes admiringly at his own
figure in the mirror. The lady is equally
indifferent; she has strung the ring on to her
finger and is toying with it, while she listens
to the compliments being paid to her by
Counsellor Silver-tongue. Through an open
window another lawyer is comparing his lordship's
new house, that is in the course of building,
with the plan in his hand. A marriage so
begun could only end in misery." This is the
first act, and the pictures that follow show all
the steps of unhappiness which the couple
take. There are five more acts to that painted
drama, which is in the National Gallery,
London.</p>

<p> 
<a name="154"></a></p>
<h1>XXII</h1>

<h1>HANS HOLBEIN, THE YOUNGER</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Hahntz Hol'bine)<br>
<i>German School</i><br>
1497-1543<br>
<i>Pupil of Holbein, the Elder</i> </center>

<p>There were three generations of painters in
the Holbein family, and the Hans of whom
we speak was of the third. His grandfather
was called "old Holbein," and when more painters
of the same name and family came along it became
necessary to distinguish them from each other
thus: "old Holbein," the "elder Holbein," and
"young Holbein." The first one was not much
of an artist; still, in a locality where at best there
was not much art he was good enough to be
remembered.</p> 

<p>"Young Holbein" was born in Augsburg,
which is in Swabia, in southern Germany; "elder
Holbein" and his father, Michael, "old Holbein,"
had moved there from Schonenfeld, a neighbouring
village, about forty three years before little
Hans was born, the old Michael bringing his
family to the larger town where it was easier to
make a living.</p> 

<p>The "elder Holbein" was a really good artist
and well thought of in Augsburg, and when little
Hans's turn came he had no teacher but his
<a name="155"></a>
father, unless indeed we were to call him also a
pupil of his elder brother, Ambrosius. His
uncle Sigismund, too, taught him something of
art, for the whole Holbein family seem to have
been artists. Young Holbein was never regularly
apprenticed to any outsider.</p> 

<p>Art was not then taught as it is now. The
work of a beginner was often to paint for his
master certain details which it was thought that
he might handle properly, while the master
occupied himself with what he thought to be
some more important part of the picture. It is
said that Hans often painted the draperies of his
father's figures when his father was engaged upon
the altar pieces so fashionable at the time.
The Holbeins one and all must have been bad
managers or improvident; at any rate, Hans did
not turn out well as a man and we read that his
father was always in debt and difficulty although
he received much money for his work and was
not handicapped, like Dürer's father, by a family
of eighteen children.</p> 

<p>The story of the Holbeins is quite unlike that
of the Dürers, and not nearly so attractive.</p> 

<p>Some time before Hans was twenty years of age,
the entire family had packed up and gone to live
in Lucerne, while Hans and his brother, Ambrosius,
went travelling together, as most young
Germans went at that time before they settled
down to the serious work of life. The last we
hear of Ambrosius he had joined the painters'
guild in Basel, and probably he died not long 
<a name="156"></a>
afterward, or at any rate while he was still young.
There was in Basel a certain Hans Bar, for whose
wedding occasion Hans Holbein designed a table,
on which he pictured an allegory of "St. Nobody."
This was very likely such work as our cartoonists
do to-day, but being the work of Holbein,
it had great artistic value. Besides that, he
painted a schoolmaster's sign to be hung outside
the door.</p> 

<p>As an illustrator, Holbein made the acquaintance
of several authors about that time and
started on the high road to fame. He was a man
of very little conscience or fine feeling, and there
could hardly be a greater contrast than that
between the clean sweet life of Dürer and the
brawling, unfeeling one that Hans Holbein led.</p> 

<p>Dürer married, had no children, but tenderly
loved and cared for his wife, taking her with him
upon his journeys and making her happy.</p> 

<p>Holbein married and beat his wife; had
several children and took care of none of them.
His wife grew to look old and worn while he
remained a gay looking sport, quite tired of one
whom he had had on his hands for ten years.
He wandered everywhere and left his family
to shift for itself. One writer in speaking of the
two men says:</p> 

<p>"Dürer would never have deserted his wife
whom he took with him even on his journey
to the Netherlands; and he was bound by the
same tenderness to his native town. However
much he rejoiced to receive a visit from Bellini
<a name="157"></a>
at Venice, or when at Antwerp, the artists instituted,
a torch-light procession in his honour,
nothing could have moved him to leave Nuremberg."
Dürer loved his home; Holbein hated his.</p> 

<p>Holbein had a cold, light-blue eye; Dürer a
soft and tender glance. While Dürer lived he
was the mainstay of his family--father and
brothers. Holbein's father died in misery and
his brother's life was disastrous, Hans doing
nothing to serve them and looking on at their
sufferings indifferently.</p> 

<p>There is a court document in existence which
tells the particulars of Hans Holbein's arrest
for getting into a brawl with a lot of goldsmiths'
apprentices during a night of carousal. The
court warned him that he would be more severely
punished if he did not cease his lawless life and
he was made to promise not to "jostle, pinch, nor
beat his lawful spouse." When he died he
made no provision in his will for his family.
There is a picture of his wife, Elizabeth Schmidt,
to be seen in his "Madonna" at Solothurn
Holbein used her for the model. She then was
young and blooming and the model for the child
was his own baby; at that time he found them
useful.</p> 

<p>His life of folly can hardly be excused by
impulsiveness or emotion, for his pictures show
little of either. He was best at portrait painting.
At that time guilds and town councils
wanted the portraits of their members preserved
in some way, and it was the habit of
<a name="158"></a>
painters like Holbein to form picturesque groups
and give to such dramatic groupings the
features of townsmen. Rembrandt did this
much later than Holbein, when he painted
the "Night Watch," or as it is more properly
called, "The Sortie."</p> 

<p>Probably Holbein's first important work
was to make title pages for the second edition
of Martin Luther's translation of the New
Testament. This MS. was made about the
time that Holbein's work began to be of
interest to the public, and so the commission
was given to him.</p> 

<p>After a time this artist went to England
with letters of introduction to Sir Thomas
More, Chancellor to King Henry VIII. Sir
Thomas treated him very kindly and set him
to work making portraits of his own family.
During the time he was living at More's home
in Chelsea, the King himself, used frequently
to visit there, and on one occasion he saw the
brilliant portraits of the More family and
inquired about the artist. Sir Thomas offered
the King any of the pictures he liked, but
Henry VIII. asked to see the artist. When
brought before him, Holbein's fortune seemed
to be made for the King asked him to go to
court and paint for him, remarking that "now
he had the artist he did not care about the
pictures."</p> 

<p>Holbein seems to have been a favourite
with Henry and many anecdotes are told of his
<a name="159"></a>
life at Whitehall, where he went to live. Once
while Holbein was engaged upon a portrait, a
nobleman insisted upon entering his studio,
after the artist had told him that he was painting
the portrait of a lady, by order of the King.
The nobleman insisted upon seeing it, but
Holbein seized him and threw him down the
Stairs; then he rushed to the King and told
what had happened. He had no sooner
finished than the nobleman appeared and told
his story. The King blamed the nobleman for
his rudeness.</p> 

<p>"You have not to do with Holbein," he said,
"but with me. I tell you, of seven peasants
I can make seven lords, but of seven lords I
cannot make one Holbein. Begone! and remember
that if you ever attempt to avenge
yourself, I shall look upon any injury offered
to the painter as done to myself."</p> 

<p>It was Holbein who, visiting a brother
artist and finding a picture on the easel,
painted a fly upon it. When the artist
returned he tried to brush the fly off, then
set about looking for the one who had
deceived him.</p> 

<p>His portrait painting was so superb that he
received many commissions.</p> 

<p>Meantime, Sir Thomas More had fallen into
disfavour with the King and was to lose his
head, but it is written that the artist's portraits
"betray nothing of this tragedy." He was
as ready to climb to fame by the favour of 
<a name="160"></a>
his generous patron's enemies as he had been
to accept the offices of Sir Thomas More. He
painted the portraits of several of the wives
of Henry VIII., and it may be said that there
was a good deal of that monarch's temperament
to be found in Holbein himself. Take
him all in all, Hans was as detestable as a man
as he was excellent as a painter.</p> 

<p>In his adopted home in Lucerne, Holbein
had painted frescoes, both on the inside and
the outside of a citizen's house, and this house
stood until 1824, when it was torn down to
make way for street improvements, but several
artists hastily copied the frescoes so that they
are not entirely lost.</p> 

<p>Before he left Germany for England, Holbein
had been commissioned to decorate the town
hall in Basel, and a certain amount of money
was voted for the work, but after he had
finished three walls, he decided that the money
was only enough to pay him for what he had
already done. The councillors agreed with
him, but as money was a little "close" in
Basel at that time, they felt unable to give
him more, and so voted to "let the back wall
alone, till further notice."</p> 

<p>He painted one Madonna whom he surrounded
with the entire family of Burgomaster Meyer,
including even the burgomaster's first wife,
who was dead. This work is called the
"Meyer Madonna."</p> 

<p>It is said that after Holbein's return to 
<a name="161"></a>
Basel he, with others, was persecuted for his
"religious principles," but if this were true,
his persecutors went to considerable pains
for nothing, because Holbein was never known
to have any sort of principles, religious or
otherwise. He was neither a Protestant, nor
a Catholic but a painter, a man without convictions
and without thought. He did not care
for family, country, friends, politics, religion,
nor for anything else, so far as any one knows.</p> 

<p>When he was asked why he had not partaken
of the Sacrament, he answered that he wanted
to understand the matter better before he did
so. Thus he escaped punishment, and when
matters were explained to him, he did whatever
seemed safest and most convenient under
the circumstances.</p> 

<p>On his return to England, he settled among
the colony of German and Netherland merchants,
who were in the habit of meeting at a place
called "The Steelyard," as their home and
warehouses were grouped in that locality,
with a guild hall and a wineshop they alone
patronised.</p> 

<p>While associated with his compatriots Holbein
made portraits of many of them, and these
are magnificent works of art. He painted them
separately or in groups; in their offices and in
their guild hall, as the case might be. The
men whom he thus painted were: Gorg Gisze,
Hans of Antwerp, Derich Berck, Geryck Tybis,
Ambrose Fallen, and many others. He designed 
<a name="162"></a>
the arch which the guild erected upon the occasion
of Anne Boleyn's coronation, and he painted
Henry's next Queen, Jane Seymour.</p> 

<p>Holbein painted many portraits of Henry VIII.
and probably all those dated after 1537 were
either copies or founded upon the portrait which
Holbein made and which was destroyed with
Whitehall.</p> 

<p>While he painted for Henry, Holbein received
a sort of retainer's fee of thirty pounds a year,
but he may have received sums for outside
commissions which he undertook. On one
occasion, when he took a journey to Upper
Burgundy to paint a portrait of the Duchess
whom Henry contemplated making his next wife,
the King gave him ten pounds out of his own
purse. We have no record of vast sums such as
Raphael received.</p> 

<p>Henry did not succeed in making the Duchess
his wife, so Holbein was sent to paint another--Anne 
of Cleves--that Henry might see what
he thought of her before he undertook to make
her his queen. Holbein did a disastrous deed,
for he made Anne a very acceptable looking
woman, (the portrait hangs in the Louvre)
and Henry negotiated for her on the strength of
that portrait. Later, when he saw her, he was
utterly disgusted and disappointed.</p> 

<p>Holbein, notwithstanding this trick, was employed
to paint the next wife of Henry, and
doubtless he also made the miniature of Catherine
Howard which is in Windsor Castle. 

<a name="163"></a>
Holbein finally died of the plague and no one
knows where he was buried. His wife died later,
and it was left for his son, Philip, who was said to
be "a good well-behaved lad," to bring honours
to the family. He was apprenticed in Paris, and,
settling later in Augsburg, he founded a branch
of the Holbein family on which the Emperor
Matthias conferred a patent of nobility, making
them the Holbeins of Holbeinsberg.</p> 

<center>PLATE--ROBERT CHESEMAN WITH HIS FALCON</center>

<p>This is one of the best of the many splendid
portraits Holbein painted. It hangs in The
Hague gallery. The gentleman was forty-eight
years old and in the portrait he wears a purplish-red
doublet of silk and a black overcoat,
which was the fashion of the day, all trimmed
with fur. He has curly hair, just turning gray.
His left hand is gloved and on it he holds his
falcon, while with the other hand he strokes its
feathers.</p> 

<p>Of all sports at that time, falconry was the
most fashionable and every fine gentleman had
his sporting birds. Robert Cheseman lived in
Essex. He was rich and a leader in English
politics. His father was "keeper of the wardrobe
to Henry VIII." and he himself served in many
public offices. He was one of the gentleman
chosen to welcome Anne of Cleves when she landed
on English soil to marry Henry VIII. These
details were first published by Mr. Arthur 
<a name="164"></a>
Chamberlain and are taken from his sketch of
Holbein and his works.</p> 

<p>Among Holbein's other famous pictures are:
"The Ambassadors," "Hans of Antwerp,"
"Christina of Denmark," "Jane Seymour,"
"Anne of Cleves," and "St. George and the
Dragon."</p> 

<p><a name="165"></a></p>
<h1>XXIII</h1>

<h1>WILLIAM HOLMAN HUNT</h1>

<center><i>English (Pre-Raphaelite) School</i><br>
1827--<br>
<i>Pupil of Academy School</i></center>

<p>The story of the Pre-Raphaelites is all by
itself a story of art. Holman Hunt was
one of three who formed this "brotherhood";
and he, with one other, are the only ones whom
some of us think worthy of giving a place in art.
This is to be the story of the brotherhood
rather than a story of one man.</p> 

<p>The last great artist England had had before
this extraordinary group, was J. M. W. Turner,
truly a wonderful man, but after him England's
painters became more and more commonplace,
drawing further and further away from truth,
There was one, J. F. Lewis, who went away to
Syria and lived a lonely and studious life, trying
to paint with fidelity sacred scenes, but he was
not great enough to do what his conscience and
desires demanded of him; and, finally, Constable
declared that the end of art in England had come.
But it had not, for up in London, in the very
heart of the city, in Cheapside (Wood Street)
there was born, in April, 1827, a child destined to
be a brilliant and wonderful man, who was
actually to rescue English art from death. Many 
<a name="166"></a>
do not think thus, but enough of us do to warrant
the statement.</p> 

<p>The new artist was Holman Hunt. He was
the son of a London warehouseman, with no inclination
whatever for learning, so that it
seemed simply a waste of time to send him to
school. This continually repeated history of
artists who seem to know nothing outside their
brushes and colours, is astonishing, but it is true
that artists for the most part must be regarded
as artists, pure and simple, and not as men of even
reasonably good intellectual attainments, and
more or less this accounts for their low estate
centuries ago. One does not associate "learning"
and the artist. When we have such splendid
examples as Dürer and two or three others we
discuss their intellectuality because they are so
unusual.</p> 

<p>Holman Hunt was like most of his brother
artists in all but his art. He hated school and at
twelve years of age was taken from it. His father
wanted him to become a warehouse merchant
like himself, and he began life as clerk or apprentice
to an auctioneer. He next went into the
employment of some calico-printers of Manchester.
The designing of calicoes can hardly be called art,
even if the department of design had fallen to
Holman Hunt's lot and we have no evidence that
it did, but he started to be an artist nevertheless,
there in the print-shop. He found in his new
place another clerk who cared for art; and this
sympathy encouraged him to fix his mind upon
<a name="167"></a>
painting more than ever. He used to draw such
natural flies upon the window panes that his
employer tried one day to "shoo away a whole
colony of flies that seemed miraculously to have
settled." This gave the clerks much amusement,
and also attracted attention to Holman Hunt's
genius.</p> 

<p>His very small salary was spent, not on his
support, but in lessons from a portrait painter
of the city. His parents did not like this, but
they could not help themselves, and thus this
greatest of the Pre-Raphaelites began his work.</p>

<p>The Pre-Raphaelites were a little group of men
who believed that artists were drawing too much
on their imaginations, not painting things as
they saw them, and that the painter had
become incapable of close observation. He
worked in his studio, did not get near enough to
nature, and instead of trying to follow along this
line, this group of men, with their new and partly
correct ideas, meant to go back further than the
great masters themselves and present an elemental
art. This was a part of their scheme and partly
it was justified, but of all the men who undertook
to make a new school, Holman Hunt was the only
one who remained, and will remain forever, a representative.
He alone stuck to the original purpose
of the group and developed it into a truly great
school; so that it is he alone we need to know.</p> 

<p>After he began to take lessons of the portrait
painter in London, he developed so quickly that
he found by painting portraits three days a week, 
<a name="168"></a>
he could pay his own expenses, and the rest of the
time he devoted to study. He tried to be
admitted to the Academy schools twice and was
twice refused before they would receive him.</p> 

<p>It was there in the Academy the three original
Pre-Raphaelites met for the first time; they were
Holman Hunt, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, and
Millais. After entering the school Hunt painted
and sold four excellent pictures, but they all
seem to have been lost; nobody can trace them.
He was not yet a "Pre-Raphaelite."</p> 

<p>All this time Hunt was half ill because he knew
that he was grieving his father of whom he was
devotedly fond, and the strain of trying to work
while he was unhappy nearly destroyed him.
The pictures that he exhibited at the Royal
Academy were so poor that the commission
declared they should not only be removed but
that Hunt ought really to be forbidden to exhibit
any more. This must have been a great blow
to the young and struggling artist, and to add to
this trouble, his father was being jeered at for
having such a good-for-nothing son. Hunt's
pictures in the Academy were so much despised
that his father was told his son was a disgrace to
him, and we may be sure that did not help the
young fellow, who meantime was earning a living,
not by painting pictures, but by cleaning up those
of another man. Dyce, who had painted on the
walls of Trinity House, engaged him to clean and
restore those paintings, and Hunt was doing this
for his bread and butter.</p> 

<p><a name="169"></a>
At that time he became so downhearted
and discouraged that he almost decided to
leave England altogether and go to live in
Canada away from his friends who jeered, and
his family who reproached him; but just then
Millais, one of the successful painters whom
he had met in the Academy school, who could
afford to be generous, came to Hunt's aid and
gave him the means of living while he painted
"The Hireling Shepherd." This was destined
to be the turning point in Hunt's luck, for
that painting was properly hung at the exhibition,
and it received recognition. After that
he painted a picture which he sold on the
installment plan--being paid by the purchaser
so much a month.</p> 

<p>Meantime he owed his landlady a large sum,
and he says himself that he "suffered almost
unbearable pain at passing her and her husband
week after week without being able to
even talk of annulling his debts." In time he
not only settled that bill which distressed him,
but paid back his friend Millais the money
loaned by him.</p> 

<p>Hunt rarely took a commission, because to
do so meant that he must paint a picture
after the manner his employer wished, and
Hunt had certain ideas of art in which he
believed and therefore would not bind himself
to depart from them; but after a little success,
which enabled him to pay his bills, he did
undertake a commission from Sir Thomas 
<a name="170"></a>
Fairbairn, and it was called "The Awakened
Conscience." He finished this picture on a
January day late in the afternoon, and that
very night he left England, setting out upon a
longed-for journey to the Holy Land, where
he meant to study the country and people
till he believed himself able to paint a truthful
picture of sacred scenes. He refused to
paint pictures of Eastern Jews who should
look like Parisians, with Venetian backgrounds.
He meant to paint Oriental scenes
as nearly as he could, as they might have
taken place.</p> 

<p>He came back to his English home just two
years and one month from the time he had
left it, and he brought back a picture of the
goat upon which the Jews loaded their sins and
then turned loose in waste-places to wander
and die. "The Scapegoat" was a great picture,
but before he left England he had painted a
greater--the one we see here--"The Light
of the World."</p> 

<p>He had depended upon the sale of the
"Scapegoat" to pay his way for a time after
his return home, and alas, it did not sell.
More than that, his beloved father died and
this added to his sense of desolation, for he had
not been sufficiently successful before his
death to justify himself in his father's eyes.
These things so overwhelmed his sensitive
mind with trouble, that his condition became
very serious, and if certain good friends had 
<a name="171"></a>
not stood by him loyally, he would probably
never have painted again.</p> 

<p>He began at last another ambitious picture--"Finding 
of Christ in the Temple"--but while
he was engaged upon this, he had to paint
mere pot-boilers also in order to get on at
all, and he says that half the time the great
picture "stood with its face to the wall" while
he was trying merely to earn bread and butter.
The wonderful Louis Blanc tried once to plan
a way by which all deserving people should
have in this world equal opportunity to try.
This has never been "worked out." It never
will be, but Holman Hunt reminds us how
much the world loses by not providing that
"equal opportunity." No one deserves more
than his chance; but such struggles of genius
tell us that all is not fair.</p> 

<p>Hunt persevered with this Christ in the
Temple and when finished he sold it for 5,500
guineas--a larger sum than he had ever
before been given for a painting.</p> 

<p>He no sooner received his money for this
great picture than off he went once more to
the Holy Land. He was conscientious in
everything he did, and never before had an
artist painted scenes of Christ that carried
such a sense of truth with them. The set
haloes seen about the heads of the saints and of
holy people even in Raphael's pictures and
in those of the very greatest artists of his
time, disappeared with Holman Hunt's 
<a name="172"></a>
coming. In the "Light of the World," the
halo is an accident--the great white moon,
happening to rise behind the Christ's head--and 
there we have the halo, simple, natural,
only suggestive, not artificial. Then, too, in
the "Shadow of Death," there is a menacing
shadow of the cross--made upon the wall by
Christ's body, as he naturally stretches out
his arms, after his work in the carpenter shop.</p> 

<p>There is not one false note that shocks us,
or makes us feel that after all the story itself
is affected and artificial. Everything that
is symbolical is brought about naturally.
They are sincere, truthful pictures that speak
to the mind as well as to the eye.</p> 

<p>Hunt's colouring and many other technical
matters are often far from perfect, but there
is something besides technicality to be considered
in judging a picture.</p> 

<p>For a time, while the three men, Hunt,
Rossetti, and Millais, kept together, their pictures
were signed P. R. B., as a sign of their league;
but this did not last very long, and afterward
Hunt signed his pictures independently.</p> 

<p>After the "Brotherhood" had worked against
the greatest discouragements for a long time,
and felt nearly hopeless of success, John Ruskin,
one of the greatest of critics and most fearless
of men, who was so much respected that his
words had great influence, suddenly published
a defence of these Pre-Raphaelites. He declared
that they were the greatest artists of the time,
<a name="173"></a>
and while scorning their critics he applauded
those three young men, till he turned the tide,
and everybody began to know what truly
brilliant work they were doing. Ruskin's words
came, Hunt said, "as thunder out of a clear
sky."</p> 

<p>When the "Brotherhood" was formed the
three young men thought they should have a
paper--a periodical of some sort, in which they
might tell of their purposes and express their
ideas; and so Rossetti, who wrote as well as
painted, proposed that they print such a periodical
once a month, and call it the <i>Germ</i>; and the
P. R. B's. were to be joint proprietors. Rossetti
had first thought of a different title, <i>Thoughts
Toward Nature</i>, and his brother, W. M. Rossetti,
who was going to take charge of the monthly,
thought that expressed the Pre-Raphaelites'
idea; but it was finally agreed to call it the
<i>Germ</i>. Only two numbers could be published
by the Pre-Raphaelites, because nobody bought
it and the young men's money gave out, but
the printers came to the rescue, and put up the
money to issue two or three more <i>Germs</i>.</p> 

<p>Although that journal failed utterly, its four
numbers were worth publishing, and are to-day
worth reading. They were truly valuable, for
they contained a story and poem by Dante
Gabriel Rossetti, besides work of the other
P. R. B's.</p> 

<p>Above all things Hunt was conscientious in
his work, trying with all his might to represent 
<a name="174"></a>
things as be believed them to be. When he
made his "Scapegoat," he went to the shores of
the Dead Sea to paint, accompanied only by Arab
guides, and there he found the desolate, hard
landscape for his picture. The hardships he
experienced were very many. The wretched
goat he took with him died in the desert of that
dreary place after it had been no more than
sketched in, but back in Jerusalem Hunt finished
the goat. Ruskin's description of the picture
helps one to feel all the desolation of the
subject: "The salt sand of the wilderness of
Ziph, where the weary goat is dying. The
neighbourhood is stagnant and pestiferous,
polluted by the decaying vegetables brought
down by the Jordan in its floods, and the bones
of the beasts of burden that have died by the way
of the sea, lie like wrecks upon its edge, bared
by the vultures and bleached by the salt ooze."</p> 

<p>Even the superstitious Arabs would not go
near the spot which Hunt chose as the scene
of his picture, but Hunt endured all things,
believing it due to his art.</p> 

<p>When he painted "Christ in the Temple," he
needed Jewish models, and it was almost impossible
for him to get them. He could not let
them know what they were to represent, or
they would not have sat for him at all but he
succeeded in painting the "first Semitic presentment
of the Semitic Scriptures." In Jerusalem
the Jews heard that he had come "to traffic with
the souls of the faithful," and they forbade him 
<a name="175"></a>
to have any Jews come into his studio; so that
he could not finish the picture there. Back
in London he had to find his models in the
Jewish school. He left the figures of Christ
and the Virgin till the last and then painted
them "from a lady of the ancient race, distinguished
alike for her amiability and beauty,
and a lad in one of the Jewish schools, to which
the husband of the lady furnished a friendly
introduction."</p> 

<p>Thus, step by step, through the greatest
difficulties, Holman Hunt established a new
school of painting--allegory with a modern
treatment which all could understand.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD</center>

<p>This is the most popular picture of a sacred
subject, ever painted; and John Ruskin's
description of it, here quoted, is the best ever
written or that can be written. "On the left
of the picture is seen the door of the human
soul. It is fast barred, its bars and nails are
rusty; it is knitted and bound to its stanchions
by creeping tendrils of ivy, showing that it
has never been opened. A bat hovers over
it; its threshold is overgrown with brambles,
nettles and fruitless corn.... Christ approaches
in the night time, ... he wears
the white robe, representing the power of the
Spirit upon Him; the jewelled robe and breastplate,
representing the sacredotal investitude; 
<a name="176"></a>
the rayed crown of gold, interwoven with the
crown of thorns; not dead thorns, but now
bearing soft leaves, for the healing of the
nations.... The lantern carried in Christ's
left hand is the light of conscience....
Its fire is red and fierce; it falls only on the
closed door, on the weeds that encumber
it, and on an apple shaken from one of the
trees of the orchard, thus marking that the
entire awakening of the conscience is not to
one's own guilt alone, but to the guilt of the
world, or, 'hereditary guilt.'...</p> 

<p>"This light is suspended by a chain, wrapt
around the wrist of the figure, showing that
the light which reveals sin to the sinner appears
also to chain the hand of Christ. The light
which proceeds from the head of the figure--is 
that of the hope of salvation; it springs
from the crown of thorns, and, though itself
sad, subdued and full of softness, is yet so
powerful, that it entirely melts into the glow
of it the forms of the leaves and boughs which
it crosses, showing that every earthly object
must be hidden by this light, where its sphere
extends."</p> 

<p>If you will study every detail of this reproduction,
finding all the objects--the apple, the
rusty bolts--noting how the full risen moon
has formed a natural nimbus for the sacred
head, and then re-read what Ruskin has
said, you will discover the rarest truths in
Holman Hunt's picture. 
<a name="177"></a>
The several pictures which he painted, but
which cannot now be found are: "Hark!"
which was first exhibited in the Royal Academy;
"Scene from Woodstock," "The Eve of St.
Agnes," "Jerusalem by Moonlight," "The
King of Hearts," "Moonlight at Salerno,"
"Interior of the Mosque of Omar," "The
Pathless Water," "Winter," "Afternoon,"
"Sussex Downs," "Penzance," "The Archipelago," 
"Will-o'-the-Wisp," "Ivybridge,"
"The Foal of an Ass," "Road over the Downs,"
"The Haunt of the Gazelle," "'Oh, Pearl,'
Quoth I," "Miss Flamborough," "The School-girl's
Hymn." Portraits: Mr. Martineau;
Mr. J. B. Brice. Small sketch of the "Scapegoat,"
"Sunset on the Sea," "Morning Prayer,"
"Bianca," "Past and Present," and "Dead
Mallard."</p> 

<p>Should you ever find one of these pictures
bearing the initials P. R. B. or those of Holman
Hunt, you will have made an interesting
discovery and should make it known to others.</p> 

<p><a name="178"></a></p>
<h1>XXIV</h1>

<h1>GEORGE INNESS</h1>

<center><i>American</i><br>
1825-1897<br>
<i>Pupil of Regis Gignoux</i></center>

<p>George Inness was destined to keep a
grocery store as his father had kept
one before him, and had grown rich in it.
When George was a young man he was
given a grocery store in Newark, New Jersey,
a very small store indeed, and it is not surprising
that the young man preferred art to
butter and eggs. The Inness family had
just moved from Newburg, probably the elder
Innes seeking in Newark a good location for
his son's beginning.</p> 

<p>The first art-work Inness did was engraving;
as he had been apprenticed to that business,
but afterward he studied with Gignoux, a
pupil of Delaroche.</p> 

<p>At that time there was what is known as
the Hudson River School. Its ideas were
set and formal, and not very inspiring, aside
from the subjects treated. Church was then
a young man like Inness, and he was studying
in the Hudson River School, but the young
grocer struck out a line for himself.</p> 

<p>He was forty years old before he got to Paris,
<a name="179"></a>
but once there, he turned to the men at Barbizon--Rousseau, 
Millet, Corot, and the rest--for
inspiration, and began to do beautiful things
indeed. Rousseau became his friend, and the
art of Inness grew large and rich through such
influences.</p>

<p>Inness had inherited much religious feeling
from his Scotch ancestors, and all his work
was conscientious, very carefully done.</p> 

<p>When Inness returned from Paris he was
not yet well known. He went to Montclair,
New Jersey, to live and it was there that he
did his best work. Finally, after he was fifty
years old, he became known as a truly splendid
painter. He loved best to paint quiet scenes
of morning, evening sunset, and the like. His
pictures began to gain value, and one that he
had sold for three hundred dollars jumped in
price to ten thousand and more. His work
is not equally good, because his moods greatly
influenced him.</p> 

<center>PLATE--BERKSHIRE HILLS</center>

<p>This picture in the George A. Hearn collection
is full of the sense of restfulness that the
works of this artist always convey. The trees
are as motionless as the distant hills, and if
the oxen are moving at all it is but slowly.</p> 

<p>Some other Inness paintings are the "Georgia
Pines," "Sunset on the Passaic," "The Wood
Gatherers" and "After a Summer Shower."</p> 

<p><a name="180"></a></p>
<h1>XXV</h1>

<h1>SIR EDWIN HENRY LANDSEER</h1>

<center><i>English School</i><br>
1802-1873<br>
<i>Pupil of his father, John Landseer</i></center>

<p>
It is pleasant to speak of one artist whose
good work began in the companionship
of his father; the case of Edwin Landseer is
most unusual.</p> 

<p>His father was a skilful engraver who loved
art, and encouraged the cultivation of it in his
son, as other fathers of painters encouraged
them to become priests or haberdashers or
bakers, as the case might be. Little Landseer's
beginning has been described by his
father as he and a friend stood looking upon
one of the scenes of his childhood:</p> 

<p>"These two fields were Edwin's first studio.
Many a time have I lifted him over this very
stile. I then lived in Foley Street, and nearly
all the way between Marylebone and Hampstead
was open fields. It was a favourite walk
with my boys; and one day when I had
accompanied them, Edwin stopped by this
stile to admire some sheep and cows which
were quietly grazing. At his request I lifted
him over, and finding a scrap of paper and a
pencil in my pocket, I made him sketch the
<a name="181"></a>
cow. He was very young indeed, then--not 
more than six or seven years old.</p> 

<p>"After this we came on several occasions,
and as he grew older this was one of his favourite
spots for sketching. He would start off alone,
or with John (Thomas?) or Charles, and remain
till I fetched him in the afternoon. I would
then criticise his work, and make him correct
defects before we left the spot. Sometimes
he would sketch in one field, sometimes in the
other, but generally in the one beyond the old
oak we see there, as it was more pleasant and
sunny."</p> 

<p>All the Landseer men were gifted, and the
mother was the beautiful woman whom Reynolds
painted as a gleaner, carrying a bundle
of wheat upon her head.</p> 

<p>There were seven little Landseers, the oldest
of them being Thomas, the famous engraver,
whose reproduction of his brother's works
will preserve them to us always, even after
the originals are gone. The first of Edwin's
drawings which seemed to his family worthy
of publishing was a great St. Bernard dog,
such a wonderful performance for a little
fellow of thirteen that Thomas engraved it and
distributed it all over England. Little Edwin
had seen this beautiful dog one day in the
streets of London in a servant's charge, and he
was so delighted with its beauty, that he
followed the two home and asked the dog's
owner if he might sketch him. The St. 
<a name="182"></a>
Bernard was six feet four inches long "and
at the middle of his back, stood two feet seven
inches in height." A great critic said that
this drawing was one of the very finest that
any master of art had ever made, though it was
done by a little child of thirteen years and it is
also said that Landseer himself never did
anything better than that little-boy work.
A live dog who was let into the room with it--as 
critic, maybe--proved to be the most
flattering of such, because he bristled instantly
for a fight.</p> 

<p>While the boy was still thirteen--which
seems to have been a magic and not a tragic
number to him--he exhibited pictures in the
Royal Academy. These were a mule, and a
dog with a puppy. In the stories of "Famous
Artists" we are told that he was a fine, manly
little chap with light curly hair and very well
behaved. When he became a student of the
Academy the keeper, Fuseli, used to look about
among the students and cry: "Where is my
little dog boy?" if Landseer was not in his
place. The little chap's favourite dog was his
own Brutus, which he painted lying at full
length; and though the picture was small, it
sold for seventy guineas. This means an
earning capacity indeed, for a small boy.</p> 

<p>When he was but seven years old he had
made pictures of lions and tigers, each with
a different expression from the other and each
with a character of its own. Critics spoke 
<a name="183"></a>
specially of the tiger's whiskers as "admirable
in the rendering of foreshortened curves."
Tigers' whiskers were thought to be most
difficult things to make, but in Landseer's
pictures, they were as "natural as life." The
great success of the artist's animal pictures
was that he made them seem to have human
intelligence, and it was also said that if one
only saw the dog's collar, as Landseer painted
it, he would know it to be the work of a great
artist, that a great dog-picture must be attached
to it.</p> 

<p>At least one of his pictures had a remarkable
history. He had been commissioned by the
Hon. H. Pierrpont to paint a "white horse in
a stable." After the painting was ready for
delivery it disappeared, and for twenty-four
years it could not be found. At last it was
discovered in a hay-loft! It had been stolen
by a servant and hidden there. In spite of
the long years that had passed, Landseer sent
it at once to the man for whom it had been
made, with the message that he had not
retouched it nor changed it in the least,
"because," said he, "I thought it better not
to mingle the style of my youth with that of
my old age."</p> 

<p>One of Landseer's early advisers had told
him he must dissect animals to get the proper
effects in painting them, as it was necessary
for him to understand their construction.
So, one time, when a famous old lion died in the 
<a name="184"></a>
Exeter Exchange menagerie Landseer got its
body and dissected it, and immediately afterward 
he painted three great lion pictures:
"The Lion Disturbed at His Repast," "A Lion
Enjoying His Repast," and "A Prowling Lion."</p> 

<p>Sir Walter Scott became so enchanted with
Landseer's pictures that the great novelist
came to London to take the young artist to his
home at Abbotsford. "His dogs are the most
magnificent things I ever saw," said Scott,
"leaping and bounding and grinning all over
the canvas."</p> 

<p>Landseer lived in the centre of London
till he was more than thirty years old, and then,
looking for more quiet and space he bought a
very small house and garden at No. 1, St. John's
Wood. There was not much room in the house
but it had a stable attached which made a fine
studio, and there Landseer lived with a sister
of his, for nearly fifty years. When he first
wished to rent the house, the landlord asked
him a hundred pounds premium which Landseer
felt that he could not pay and he was
about to give it up, when a friend declared
that if the matter of money was all that
prevented him, he was to rent it immediately,
and he could repay him as he chose. Landseer
then took the house, his friend paying down the
premium, and Landseer returned the money
twenty-pounds at a time, till all the debt was
paid.</p> 

<p>Landseer made this a famous and hospitable 
<a name="185"></a>
house, and it is said that more great people
gathered under his roof than had ever gathered
about any other artist with the exception of
Sir Joshua Reynolds. That was the house in
which Landseer's loving old father spent his
last days and finally died. A story is told of
the witty D'Orsay, who would call out at the
door, when he went to visit the artist: "Landseer,
keep de dogs off me, I want to come in
and some of dem will bite me--and dat fellow
in de corner is growling furiously."</p> 

<p>On one of his several visits to Abbotsford,
where he went many times after his first invitation,
to enjoy Scott's delightful hospitality,
he painted a famous dog of Sir Walter's called
Maida, which died six weeks afterward.</p> 

<p>There are several such stories about dogs
who died rather tragically and were also
painted by Landseer. The two King Charles
spaniels which he painted both died soon
after sitting to the great painter. They had
been pets of Mr. Vernon, who commissioned
the painting, and the white Blenheim spaniel
fell from a table and was killed, while the King
Charles fell through the railings of a staircase
and was picked up dead. The great bloodhound,
Countess, belonging to Mr. Bell who
gave her picture to the Academy, was watching
for her master's return one dark night and when
she heard the wheels of his carriage, then his
voice, she leaped from the balcony, but missed
her footing and fell nearly dead at Mr. Bell's 
<a name="186"></a>
feet. That gentleman loved the dog so much
that he was distracted, and taking her into his
gig, knowing that she must die, he raced in to
London again that same night, and rousing
Sir Edwin, begged him to paint the dog before
it was too late. Then and there was the sketch
of the dying animal made.</p> 

<p>Sir Edwin Landseer was the most versatile
and entertaining of artists. He was a wit, and
could also perform all sorts of sleight of hand
tricks, besides being so quick with his pencil
that his doings seemed miraculous. One
evening, during a conversation with many
friends, someone declared that in point of
time Sir Edwin could do a record-sketch.
One young woman spoke up and said: "There
is one thing that even he cannot do--he cannot
make two different pictures at the same time."</p> 

<p>"Think not?" cried Sir Edwin. "Let us
see!" Gaily taking two pencils, he rapidly
drew a stag's head with one hand and a horse's
head with the other.</p> 

<p>Landseer became the guest of royalty, a
favourite of Queen Victoria, whose dog Dash
was one of the many famous dogs painted by
him. Dash was the favourite spaniel of the
Duchess of Kent, Victoria's mother; and the
Queen's biographer says that she too loved
him very much. On Coronation Day she had
been away from him longer than usual, and
when the great state coach rolled up to the
palace steps she could hear Dash barking for
<a name="187"></a>
her in the hall. "Oh," she exclaimed, "there's
Dash," and throwing aside the ball and sceptre
which she carried, she hurried to change her
fine robes, in order to wash the dog. This is
a very homelike and picturesque story, but
it is possibly not true. Doubtless the little
Queen heard the dog bark--and was glad to
see him.</p> 

<p>At Windsor Landseer painted another royal
dog, Islay, the pet terrier of Victoria; also
Dandie Dinmont, belonging to the Princess
Alice; then Eos, who was Prince Albert's--King 
Edward's--dog. All the last years
of Sir Edwin Landseer' life, the royal family
were his devoted and comforting friends. The
painter suffered much and during his visits
to Balmoral he wrote to his sister how the
Queen used to go several times a day to his
room, to look after his comfort and to inquire
about his condition. He wrote:</p> 

<p>"The Queen kindly commands me to get
well here. She has to-day been twice to my
room to show additions recently added to her
already rich collection of photographs. Why,
I know not, but since I have been in the High
lands I have for the first time felt wretchedly
weak, without appetite. The easterly winds,
and now again the unceasing cold rain, may
possibly account for my condition, but I can't
get out. Drawing tires me; however, I have
done a little better to-day. The doctor residing
in the castle has taken me in hand, and gives 
<a name="188"></a>
me leave to dine to-day with the Queen and
the rest of the royal family.... Flogging
would be mild compared with my sufferings.
No sleep, fearful cramp at night, accompanied
by a feeling of faintness and distressful
feebleness."</p>

<p>When he was well, he was gay and cheerful;
and Dickens, Thackeray, and many other noted
men were his friends. We are told that above
all things. Sir Edwin was a great mimic and
that one night at dinner he threw everybody
into fits of laughter by imitating his friend the
sculptor Sir Francis Chantry. It was at the
sculptor's table, where a large party was
assembled. Chantry called Sir Edwin's attention,
when the cloth was removed, to the
reflection of light in the highly polished table.</p> 

<p>"Come here and sit in my place," said
Chantry, "and see the perspective you can
get." Then he went and stood by the fire,
while Landseer sat in his place. Seated then
in Chantry's chair, Landseer called out in
perfect imitation of his host: "Come, young
man, you think yourself ornamental; now
make yourself useful, and ring the bell."
Chantry did so, and when the butler came in
he was confused and amazed to hear his
master's voice from where Landseer sat in
Chantry's place at the table. The voice of
his master from the head of the table ordered
claret, while his master really stood before
the fire with his hands under his coat-tails.</p> 

<p><a name="189"></a>
We are told that Landseer stood his pictures
on their heads, or upon one corner or looked
at them from between his legs, any way, every
way, to get a complete view of them from all
quarters. He went to bed very late and got
up very late, but in the mornings, while lying
in bed he mostly thought out the subjects of
his pictures.</p> 

<p>He was not much of a sportsman, preferring
to paint animals rather than to kill them,
and one day when hunting, he saw a fine stag
before him. Instead of firing at it, he thrust
his gun into a gillie's hands, crying: "Hold
that! hold that!" and whipping out his pencil
and pad he began to sketch the stag. Whereupon
the gillies were disgusted that he should
miss so fine a shot, and they said something
to each other in Gaelic, which Sir Edwin must
have understood, for he became very angry.</p> 

<p>"It was a pity," wrote one who knew all
his qualities, "that Landseer, who might have
done so much for the good of the animal kind,
never wrote on the subject of their treatment.
He had a strong feeling against the way some
dogs are tied up, only allowed their freedom
now and then. He used to say a man would
fare better tied up than a dog, because the
former can take his coat off, but a dog lives
in his forever. He declared a tied-up dog,
without daily exercise, goes mad, or dies,
in three years."</p> 

<p>He had a wonderful power over dogs, and
<a name="190"></a>
he told one lady it was because he had "peeped
into their hearts." A great mastiff rushed
delightedly upon him one day and someone
remarked how the dog loved him. "I never
saw the dog before in my life," the artist said.</p> 

<p>While teaching some horses tricks for Astley's,
he showed his friends some sugar in his hand
and said: "Here is my whip." His studio
was full of pets, and one dog used as a model
used to bring the master's hat and lay it at his
feet when he got tired of posing.</p>

<p>This charming man suffered a great deal
before his death, and had dreadful fits of
depression. During one of these he wrote:
"I have got trouble enough; ten or twelve
pictures about which I am tortured, and a
large national monument to complete." That
monument was the one in Trafalgar Square,
for which he designed the lions at the base.
"If I am bothered about anything and everything,
no matter what, I know my head will
not stand it much longer." Later he wrote:
"My health (or rather condition), is a mystery
beyond human intelligence. I sleep seven
hours, and awake tired and jaded, and do not
rally till after luncheon. J. L. came down
yesterday and did her best to cheer me...
I return to my own home in spite of kind
invitations from Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone to
meet Princess Louise at breakfast." Of the
many anecdotes told of this great man, his
introduction to the King of Portugal furnishes 
<a name="191"></a>
the most amusing. "I am delighted to make
your acquaintance," the King said, "I am
so fond of beasts."</p> 

<p>Before he died he had made a large fortune
from his work, and during his illness he was
tended most lovingly by his friends and sister.
One day, walking in his garden, much depressed,
he said sadly: "I shall never see the green
leaves again," but he did live through other
seasons. He wished to die in his studio, and
at one time when he was much distracted the
Queen wrote him not to fear, but to trust those
who were doing all they could for him, that her
confidence in his physicians and nurses was
complete. At last with brother, sister, friends
and fortune about him the great animal
painter died, and on October 11, 1873, and
was buried with great honours in St. Paul's
Cathedral.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE OLD SHEPHERD'S CHIEF MOURNER</center>

<p>Of all the dogs Landseer loved to paint, the
sheep collie has the most character; and here
he shows us one expressing in every line of
his face and form the most profound grief.
The Glengarry bonnet on the floor beside the
shepherd's staff, the spectacles lying on the
Bible, the ram's horn, the vacant chair, the
black and white shawl known as a "Shepherd's
plaid"--all these things have failed to comfort
this humble follower. We can imagine him, 
<a name="192"></a>
not bounding ahead with a joyous bark, but
walking staidly behind the coffin when it is
borne away and laying himself down upon his
master's grave, perhaps to die of starvation,
as some of his kind have been known to do.
The painting is one of the Sheepshanks Collection
in the South Kensington Museum.</p> 

<p>Among Landseer's other famous dog pictures
are "Low Life and High Life," "Dignity
and Impudence" and "The Sleeping Bloodhound,"
all in the National Gallery. 
<a name="193"></a></p>
<h1>XXVI</h1>

<h1>CLAUDE LORRAIN (GELLEE)</h1>

<center><i>Classical French School</i><br>
1600-1689<br>
<i>Pupil of Godfrey Wals</i></center>

<p>Of all the contrasts between the early
and later lives of great artists, Claude
Lorrain gives us the most complete.</p> 

<p>He was born to make pastry. His family
may have been all pastry cooks, because people
of Lorrain were famous for that work; anyway
as a little chap he was apprenticed to one. His
parents were poor, lived in the Duchy of
Lorrain and from that political division the
Artist was named.</p> 

<p>The town in which he was born was
Chamagne, and his real name was Gellée. As
a pastry cook's apprentice he served his time,
and then, without any thought of becoming
anything else in the world, he set off with
several other pastry cooks to go to Rome,
where their talents were to be well rewarded.</p> 

<p>But how strangely things fall out! In
Rome he was engaged to make tarts for
Agostine Tassi, a landscape painter. His work
was not simply to furnish his master with
desserts, but to do general housekeeping, and
it fell to his lot to clean Tassi's paint brushes.
<a name="194"></a>
So far as we know, this was the first introduction
of Claude Lorrain to art other than culinary.</p> 

<p>From cleaning brushes it was but a step
to trying to use them upon canvas, and Tassi
being a good-natured man, began to give
Lorrain instruction, till the pastry cook became
his master's assistant in the studio. This led
to a larger and larger life for the young Frenchman,
and he copied great masters, did original
things, and finally in his twenty-fifth year
returned to France a full-fledged artist. He
remained there two years, and then went back
to Italy, where he lived till he died. The
visit to France turned out fortunately because
on his way back he fell in with one of the original
twelve members of the French Academy,
Charles Errard, who became the first director
of the Academy in Rome. A warm friendship
sprang up between the men, and Errard was
very helpful to the young artist.</p> 

<p>Nevertheless, Lorrain did not gain much
fame till about his fortieth year, when he was
noticed by Cardinal Bentivoglio, and was given
certain commissions by him. He grew in
Bentivoglio's favour so much that the Cardinal
introduced him to the pope. The Catholic
Church set the fashions in art, politics, and
history of all sorts at that time, so that Lorrain
could not have had better luck than to become
its favourite. The pope was Urban VIII.,
whose main business was to hold the power of
the Church and make it stronger if he could, 
<a name="195"></a>
so that he was continually building fortresses
and other fortifications, and he had use for
artists and decorators. Lorrain's fame outlasted
the life of Urban VIII., and he
became a favourite in turn with each of the
three succeeding popes. All this time he
was doing fine work in Italy and for Italy,
besides receiving orders for pictures from
France, Holland, Germany, Spain, and England,
for his fame had reached throughout the world.</p> 

<p>Besides leaving many paintings behind him
when he died, he left half a hundred etchings;
also a more precise record of his work than most
artists have left. He executed two hundred
sketches in pen or pencil, washed in with brown
or India ink, the high lights being brought
out with touches of white. On the backs of
them the artist noted the date on which the
sketch was developed into a picture, and for
whom the latter was intended. The story is
that his popularity produced many imitators,
and that he adopted this means to establish
the identity of his own work and distinguish
it from the many copies made.</p> 

<p>These sketches were collected in a volume
by Lorrain and called "Liber Veritatis," and
for more than a hundred years the Dukes of
Westminster have owned this.</p> 

<center>PLATE--ACIS AND GALATEA</center>

<p>This picture in the Dresden Gallery is a scene
from the mythical story of a goddess who 
<a name="196"></a>
fell in love with the youthful son of a faun and
a naiad. Thus she excited the jealous fury
of the cyclops, Polythemus, who is seen in the
picture herding his flock of sheep upon the
high cliff at the right. Soon he will rise and
hurl a rock upon Acis, crushing the life out of
him, so that there will be nothing left for
Galatea to do but to turn him into the River
Acis, but meanwhile the lovers are unconscious
and happy. Venus is reposing near them on the
waves and Cupid is closer still, while the sea
in the background seems to be stirred with a
fresh morning breeze.</p> 

<p>Some of the famous Lorrains in the Louvre
are: "Seaport at Sunset," "Cleopatra Landing 
at Tarsus," and "The Village Festival." 
<a name="197"></a></p>
<h1>XXVII</h1>

<h1>MASACCIO (TOMMASO GUIDI)</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Tome-mah'so Mah'sahch'cheeo)<br>
<i>Florentine School</i><br>
1401-1428<br>
<i>Pupil of Ghibertio, Donatello, and Brunellesco</i></center>

<p>This artist, who lived and died within the
century that witnessed the discovery
of America, was famous for more than his
painting. He was the original inventor who
first learned and taught the mixing of colours
with oils, thus making the peculiar "distemper"
unnecessary.</p> 

<p>The story of Italian artists includes a history
of their names, for the Italians seem to have had
most remarkable reasons for naming children.
For example, this artist, Masaccio, was born
on St. Thomas's day, hence, his name of
Tommaso. Presently, for short, or for love,
he was called Maso, and to cap all, being a
careless lad, his friends added the derogatory
"accio," and there we have the artist completely
named. He owed nothing of this to his father,
who was plain, or ornamentally, Ser Giovanni
di Simone Guidi, of Castello San Giovanni,
in the Valdamo.</p> 

<p>As a very little boy, it was plain to be seen
that slovenly Thomas was going to be a great 
<a name="198"></a>
artist, and no time was lost in putting him to
work with the best of masters.</p> 

<p>He was a veritable inventive genius. Until
his time difficulties in drawing had been overcome
mostly by ignoring them. Since no artist
had been able to draw a foreshortened foot,
it had been the fashion in art to paint people
standing upon their tiptoes, to make it possible
for an artist to paint the foot. The enterprising
Thomas came along and he decided
that feet must be painted both flat and crossed,
on tiptoe or otherwise; in short he did not
mean to lose by a foot.</p> 

<p>He worked at this problem day and night,
till at last the naturally poised foot came
into existence for the artist. Never after
Masaccio's time did an artist paint the foot
stretched upon the toes. Moreover, until
his time flesh had never been painted of a
remotely natural colour, so Masaccio set about
combining colours till he made one that had
the tint of real flesh. Thus he was the first to
overcome the difficulties of drawing and the
first to discover a mixture that would not leave
a glazed, hard, unnatural appearance and be
likely to crack and destroy the finest effort of
an artist.</p> 

<p>He worked during his youth in Pisa, where
the "leaning tower" stands; then he worked
in Florence, finally in Rome, but those early
pictures are long since gone. It was a century
of adventure and discovery as well as of art,
<a name="199"></a>
and with so much change, so many wars and
rumours of wars, many great art works were lost.
Besides, the horrible plague swept Italy east,
west, north, and south. Who was to concern
himself with saving works of art, when human
life was going out wholesale all over the land?</p> 

<p>Masaccio was certainly very poor most of his
life. He lived with his mother and his
brother Giovanni, an artist like himself, but not
nearly so brilliant. Masaccio could not spend
his life in painting but had to eke out the family
fortunes by keeping a little shop near the old
Badia, and being pestered day and night by
his creditors he was forced again and again to go
to the pawn shop.</p> 

<p>Somewhere about 1422, careless Thomas
painted his greatest picture which was doomed
to destruction too early for us to know much
about it; but it was named "San Paolo" and
it was painted in the bell-room of the Church
of the Carmine in Florence. The figure for
his model was an illustrious personage, Bartoli
d'Angiolini, who had held many honourable
offices in Florence for many years. A critic
and friend of artists tells us that the portrait
was so great it lacked only the power of speech.</p> 

<p>In this picture Masaccio made his first great
triumph in the foreshortening of feet.</p> 

<p>He undertook to celebrate the consecration
Of the Church of the Carmine, and for this he
made many frescoes, among which was a correct
painting of the procession as it entered from 
<a name="200"></a>
the cloisters of the church. "Among the
citizens who followed in its wake, portraits
are introduced of Brunellesco, Donatello,
Masolino, Felice Brancacci (the founder of the
chapel) Giovanni di Bicci de' Medici, and others,
including the porter of the convent with the
key of the door in his hand."</p> 

<p>This work was thought to be very wonderful
because the figures grew smaller in the distance,
thereby giving "perspective" for the first time.
Imagine how crude a thing was painting in the
day of careless Thomas.</p> 

<p>That fresco is long since gone, but drawings
of it still exist which tell us something of the
people of Christopher Columbus's day--previous
to their appearance, and their conditions.</p> 

<p>After Masaccio had finished the procession
he went back to his painting of the chapel and
in the end covered three of its four walls with
his works. Many of those paintings are scenes
from the life of St. Peter, and several were
worked at by other artists than Masaccio.</p> 

<p>Masaccio was greater than Raphael, greater
than Michael Angelo in so far as he pointed the
way that they were to go, having solved for them
all the problems that had kept artists from
being great before him. Sir Joshua Reynolds
says that "he appeared to be the first who
discovered the path that leads to every
excellence to which the art afterward arrived;
and may therefore be justly considered one of
the great fathers of modern art."</p> 

<p><a name="201"></a>
The artist lived but a little time, and was
most likely poisoned. Nobody knows, but it is
said that other painters were so wildly jealous of
his original genius that they wished him out of
the way, and his death was at least mysterious.
He drew very rapidly and let the details go,
caring only to represent motion and action.
Because he painted so many portraits into his
pictures there was great life and animation
in them, and people said of him that he painted
not only the body but the soul.</p> 

<center>PLATE--ARTIST'S PORTRAIT [Footnote:
Many artists have left us portraits of themselves, painted, no doubt,
with the aid of a mirror, in a group or alone. This one of Masaccio in
the Naples Museum, shows him to have been a picturesque model.]</center>

<p>Some of his known pictures are the frescoes
in the church of St. Clemente in Rome; the
frescoes in the Brancacci Chapel in the Church
of the Carmine, "St. Peter Baptising" and the
"Madonna and Child, with St. Anne," which is
in the Accademia at Florence.</p> 

<p>
<a name="202"></a></p>
<h1>XXVIII</h1>

<h1>JEAN LOUIS ERNEST MEISSONIER</h1>

<center>(Pronounced May-sohn-yay)<br>
<i>French School</i><br>
1815-1891<br>
<i>Pupil of Léon Cogniet</i></center>

<p>This artist was born at Lyons. His
father was a salesman and an art-training
seemed impossible for the young man
because the Meissoniers were poor people.
Nevertheless, he was so persevering that while
still a young man he got to Paris and began
to paint in the Louvre. He was but nineteen
at that time, and his fate seemed so hard and
bitter that later in life he refused to talk of
those days.</p> 

<p>He sat for many days in the Louvre, by
Daubigny's side, painting pictures for which
we are told he received a dollar a yard. We
can think of nothing more discouraging to a
genius than having to paint by the yard. It
is said that his poverty permitted him to
sleep only every other night, because he must
work unceasingly, and someone declares that he
lived at one time on ten cents a week. This
is a frightful picture of poverty and distress.</p> 

<p>Meissonier's first paying enterprise was the
painting of bon-bon boxes and the decorating
<a name="203"></a>
of fans, and he tried to sell illustrations for
children's stories, but for these he found no
market. A brilliant compiler of Meissonier's
life has written that "his first illustrations in
some unknown journal were scenes from the
life of 'The Old Bachelor.' In the first
picture he is represented making his toilet
before the mirror, his wig spread out on the
table; in the second, dining with two friends;
in the third, on his death-bed, surrounded by
greedy relations and in the fifth, the servants
ransacking the death chamber for the property."
This was very likely a vision of his own possible
fate, for Meissonier must have been at that
time a lonely and unhappy man.</p> 

<p>There are many stories of his first exhibited
work, which Caffin declares was the "Visit to
the Burgomaster," but Mrs. Bolton, who is
almost always correct in her statements, tells
us that it was called "The Visitor," and that it
sold for twenty dollars. At the end of a six
years struggle in Paris, his pictures were
selling for no more.</p> 

<p>Until this artist's time people had been
used only to great canvases, and had grown
to look for fine work, only in much space, but
here was an artist who could paint exquisitely
a whole interior on a space said to be no "larger
than his thumb nail." His work was called
"microscopic," which meant that he gave
great attention to details, painting very slowly.</p> 

<p>During the Italian war of 1859, and in the
<a name="204"></a>
German war of 1870, this wonderful artist was
on the staff of Napoleon III. During the siege
of Paris he held the rank of colonel, and he
lost no chance to learn details of battles which
he might use later, in making great pictures.
Thus he gained the knowledge and inspiration
to paint his picture "Friedland," which
was bought by A. T. Stewart and is now in the
Metropolitan Museum. He, himself, wrote of
that picture: "I did not intend to paint a
battle--I wanted to paint Napoleon at the
zenith of his glory; I wanted to paint the love,
the adoration of the soldiers for the great
captain in whom they had faith, and for whom
they were ready to die.... It seemed
to me I did not have colours sufficiently dazzling.
No shade should be on the imperial
face.... The battle already commenced,
was necessary to add to the enthusiasm of the
soldiers, and make the subject stand forth, but
not to diminish it by saddening details. All
such shadows I have avoided, and presented
nothing but a dismounted cannon, and some
growing wheat which should never ripen.</p> 

<p>"This was enough.</p> 

<p>"The men and the Emperor are in the presence
of each other. The soldiers cry to him that
they are his, and the impressive chief, whose
imperial will directs the masses that move
around, salutes his devoted army. He and
they plainly comprehend each other and
absolute confidence is expressed in every face."</p>

<p><a name="205"></a>
This great work was sold at auction for
$66,000 and given to the Metropolitan Museum.</p> 

<p>It is said that when he painted the "Retreat
from Russia," Meissonier obtained the coat
which Napoleon had worn at the time, and had
it copied, "crease for crease and button for
button." He painted the picture mostly out
of doors in midwinter when the ground was
covered with snow, and he writes: "Sometimes
I sat at my easel for five or six hours together,
endeavouring to seize the exact aspect of the
winter atmosphere. My servant placed a
hot foot-stove under my feet, which he renewed
from time to time, but I used to get half-frozen
and terribly tired."</p> 

<p>So attentive was he to truthfulness in detail
that he had a wooden horse made in imitation
of the white charger of the Emperor; and
seating himself on this, he studied his own
figure in a mirror.</p> 

<p>At last this conscientious man was made an
officer of the Legion of Honour, having already
become President of the Academy. Edmund
About writes that "to cover M. Meissonier's
pictures with gold pieces simply would be to
buy them for nothing; and the practice has
now been established of covering them with
bank-notes."</p> 

<p>Meissonier seldom painted the figure of a
woman in his pictures, but all of his subjects
were wholesome and fine.</p> 

<p>One time an admirer said to him "I envy 
<a name="206"></a>
you; you can afford to own as many Meissonier
pictures as you please!"</p>

<p>"Oh no, I can't," the distinguished artist
replied. "That would ruin me. They are a
good deal too dear for me."</p> 

<p>In his maturity he became very rich, and
his homes were dreams of beauty, filled with
rare possessions such as bridles of black leather
once owned by Murat, rare silver designed by
the artist himself, great pictures, and flowers
of the rarest description besides valuable dogs
and horses. Yet it was said that "this man
who lives in a palace is as moderate as a
soldier on the march. This artist, whose
canvases are valued by the half-million, is as
generous as a nabob. He will give to a charity
sale a picture worth the price of a house.
Praised as he is by all he has less conceit in his
nature than a wholesale painter."</p> 

<p>On the 31st of January in his country house
at Poissy, this great man, whose life reads
like a romance, died, after a short illness. His
funeral services were held in the Madeleine,
and he was buried at Poissy, near Versailles,
a great military procession following him to
the grave.</p> 

<center>PLATE--RETREAT FROM MOSCOW</center>

<p>In the painting of this picture we have
already told how every detail was mastered
by actual experience of most of them. Meissonier
<a name="207"></a>
made dozens of studies for it--"a horse's
head, an uplifted leg, cuirasses, helmets,
models of horses in red wax, etc. He also
prepared a miniature landscape, strewn with
white powder resembling snow, with models
of heavy wheels running through it, that he
might study the furrow made in that terrible
march home from burning Moscow. All this
work--hard, patient, exacting work."</p> 

<p>Some of his other pictures are "The Emperor
at Solferino," "Moreau and His Staff before
Hohenlinden," "A Reading at Diderot's" and
the "Chess Players."</p> 

<p><a name="208"></a></p>
<h1>XXIX</h1>

<h1>JEAN FRANÇOIS MILLET</h1>

<center><i>Fontainebleau-Barbizon School</i><br>
1814-1875<br>
<i>Pupil of Delaroche</i></center>

<p>Two great artists painted peasants and
little else. One was the artist of whom
we shall speak, and the other was Jules Breton.
One was realistic, the other idealistic. Both
did wonderful work, but Millet painted the
peasant, worn, patient steadfast, overwhelmed
with toil; Breton, a peasant full of energy,
grace, vitality, and joy.</p> 

<p>Millet painted peasants as he knew them,
and hardly any one could have known them
better, for he was himself peasant-born. His
youth was hard, and the scenes of his childhood
were such as in after life he became famous by
painting. Millet lived in the department of
Manche, in the village of Gruchy, near Cherbourg.
Manche juts into the sea, at the
English Channel, and whichever way Millet
looked he must have seen the sea. His old
grandmother looked after the household affairs,
while his father and mother worked in the
fields and Millet must have seen them hundreds
of times, standing at evening, with bowed
heads, listening to the Angelus bell. He
<a name="209"></a>
toiled, too, as did other lads in his position.
His grandmother was a religious old woman,
and nearly all the pictures he ever saw in his
boyhood were those in the Bible, which he
copied again and again, drawing them upon the
stone walls in white chalk.</p> 

<p>The old grandmother watched him, never
doubting that her boy would become an artist.
It was she who had named him--François,
after her favourite saint, Francis, and it was
she, who, beside the evening fire, would tell him
legends of St. Francis. It was she alone who
had time and strength left, after the day's
work, to teach him the little he learned as a boy
and to fix in his mind pictures of home. His
father and mother were worn, like pack-horses,
after their day in the fields. The mother very
likely had to hitch herself up with the donkey,
or the big dog, after the fashion of these people,
as she helped draw loads about the field.
Who can look for Breton's ideal stage peasants
from Millet who knew the truth as he saw it
every day?</p> 

<p>Many years after his life in the Gruchy
home, Millet painted the portrait of the grandmother
whom he had loved so much that he
cried out: "I wish to paint her soul!" No one
could desire a better reward than such a
tribute.</p> 

<p>Millet had an uncle who was a priest and he
did what he could to give the boy a start in
learning. He taught him to read Virgil and 
<a name="210"></a>
the Latin Testament; and all his life those
two books were Millet's favourites. Besides
drawing pictures on the walls of his home,
he drew them on his sabots. Pity some one
did not preserve those old wooden shoes!
He did his share of the farm work, doing his
drawing on rainy days.</p> 

<p>When he was about eighteen years old,
coming from mass one day, he was impressed
with the figure of an old man going along the
road, and taking some charcoal from his
pocket he drew the picture of him on a stone
wall. The villagers passing, at once knew the
likeness; they were pleased and told Millet so.
Old Millet, the father, also was delighted for he,
too, had wished to be an artist, but fate had
been against him. Seeing the wonderful things
his son could do, he decided that he should
become what he himself had wished to be,
and that he should go to Cherbourg to study.</p> 

<p>François set off with his father, carrying a
lot of sketches to show, and upon telling the
master in Cherbourg what he wanted and
showing the sketches, he was encouraged to
stay and begin study in earnest. So back the
old father went, with the news to the mother
and grandmother and the priest uncle, that
François had begun his career. He stayed in
Cherbourg studying till his father died,
when he thought it right to go home and do the
work his father had always done. He returned,
but the women-folk would not agree to him
<a name="211"></a>
staying. "You go back at once," said the
grandmother, "and stick to your art. We
shall manage the farm." She sewed up in his
belt all the money she had saved, and started
him off again, for he had then been studying
only two months. Now he remained till he
was twenty-three, a fine, strapping, broad-shouldered
country fellow. He had long fair
hair and piercing dark blue eyes. All the time
he was with Delaroche he was dissatisfied with
his work--and with his master's, which
seemed to Millet artificial, untrue. He knew
nothing of the classical figures the master
painted and wished him to paint, for his heart
and mind were back in Gruchy among the
scenes that bore a meaning for him. He wished
to study elsewhere, and by this time he had
done so well that one of the artists with whom
he had studied went to the mayor of Millet's
home town, and begged him to furnish through
the town-council money enough to send Millet
to Paris. This was done, and Millet began to
hope.</p> 

<p>He was very shy and afraid of seeming
awkward and out of place. The night he got
to Paris was snowy, full of confusion and
strange things to him, and an awful loneliness
overwhelmed him. The next morning he set
out to find the Louvre, but would not ask his
way for fear of seeming absurd to some one,
so that he rambled about alone, looking for the
great gallery till he found it unaided. He 
<a name="212"></a>
spent most of the days that followed gazing
in ecstasy at the pictures.</p> 

<p>He liked Angelo, Titian, and Rubens best.
He had come to Paris to enter a studio, but
he put off his entrance from day to day, for
his shyness was painful and he feared above all
things to be laughed at by city students. At
last one day, he got up enough courage to apply
to Delaroche, whose studio he had decided
to enter if he could, as he liked his work best.
The students in that studio were full of
curiosity about the new chap, with his peasant
air, his bushy hair and great frame, so sturdy
and awkward. They at once nicknamed him
"the man of the woods," and they nagged
at him and laughed at the idea that he could
learn to paint, till one day, exasperated nearly
to death, he shook his fist at them. From that
moment he heard no more from them, for
they were certain that if he could not paint he
could use his fists a good deal better than any
of them. Delaroche liked the peasant but
did not understand him very well, and Millet
was not too fond of his painting, so after two
years he and a friend withdrew from that
studio and set up one for themselves. Thus
eight years passed, the friends living from
hand to mouth, doing all sorts of things: sign-painting,
advertisements, and the like; and
Millet, in the midst of his poverty, got married.</p> 

<p>He went home, returning to Paris with his
wife, and after starving regularly, he became 
<a name="213"></a>
desperate enough to paint a single picture as
he wished. It seemed at the time the maddest
kind of thing to do. Who would see ugly,
toil-worn peasants upon his <i>salon</i> walls? Paris
wanted dainty, aesthetic art, and an Academy
artist would have scoffed at the idea; but the
Millets were starving anyway, so why not
starve doing at least what one chose. So
Millet painted his first wonderful peasant
picture "The Winnower," and just as the
family were starving he sold it--for $100.
He had done at last the right thing, in doing
as he pleased. This was a sign to him that
there was after all a place for truth and emotion
in art. But the Millets must change their
place of living, and go to some place where
the money made would not at once be eaten
up. Jacque--the friend with whom Millet
had set up shop, and who also became famous,
later--advised them to go to a little place
he knew about, which had a name ending in
"zon." It was near the forest of Fontainebleau,
he said and they could live there very
cheaply, and it was quiet and decent. The
Millets got into a rumbling old cart and started
in search of the place which ended in "zon"
near the forest of Fontainebleau. Jacque
had also decided to take his family there and
they all went together. When they got to
Fontainebleau they got down from the car
and went a-foot through the forest.</p> 

<p>They arrived tired and hungry toward 
<a name="214"></a>
evening, and went to Ganne's Inn, where
there were Rousseau, Diaz, and other artists
who like themselves had come in search of a
nice, clean, picturesque place in which to starve,
if they had to. Those who were just sitting
down to supper welcomed the newcomers, for
they had been there long enough to form a
colony and fraternity ways. One of these
was to take a certain great pipe from the wall,
and ask the newcomer to smoke; and according
to the way he blew his "rings" he was pronounced
a "colourist" or "classicist." The
two friends blew the smoke, and at once the
other artists were able to place Jacque. He
was a colourist; but what were they to say about
Millet who blew rings after his own fashion.</p> 

<p>"Oh, well!" he cried. "Don't trouble about
it. Just put me down in a class of my own!"</p> 

<p>"A good answer!" Diaz answered. "And
he looks strong and big enough to hold his
own in it!" Thus the newcomers took their
places in the life of Barbizon--the place whose
name ended in "zon," and Millet's real work
began. His first wife lived only two years,
but he married again. All this time he was
following his conscience in the matter of his
work, and selling almost nothing. In a letter
to a friend he tells how dreadfully poor they
are, although his new wife was the most devoted
helpful woman imaginable, known far and
near as "Mère Millet." The artist wrote to
Sensier, his friend, who aided him: "I have 
<a name="215"></a>
received the hundred francs. They came just
at the right time. Neither my wife nor I had
tasted food in twenty-four hours. It is a
blessing that the little ones, at any rate, have
not been in want."</p>

<p>The revolution of 1848 had come before
Millet went to Barbizon, and he like other men
had to go to war. Then the cholera appeared,
and these things interrupted his work; and
after such troubles people did not begin buying
pictures at once. Rousseau was famous now,
but Millet lived by the hardest toil until one
day he sold the "Woodcutter" to Rousseau
himself, for four hundred francs. Rousseau
had been very poor, and it grieved him to see
the trials and want of his friend, so he pretended
that he was buying the picture for an American.
That picture was later sold at the Hartmann
sale for 133,000 francs. Millet was now forty
years old, and had not yet been recognised as
a wonderful man by any but his brother
artists. He was truly "in a class of his own."
He had learned to love Barbizon, and cried:
"Better a thatched cottage here than a palace
in Paris!" and we have the picture in our
minds of Millet followed patiently and lovingly
by "Mère Millet" in the peasant dress which
she always wore, that she might be ready at
a moment's notice to pose for his figures. Then
there were his little children and his sunny,
simple, fraternal surroundings, which make his
life the most picturesque of all artists.</p>

<p><a name="216"></a>
His paintings had the simplest stories with
seldom more than two or three figures in them.
It was said that he needed only a field and a
peasant to make a great picture. When he
painted the "Man with the Hoe," he did it so
truthfully, in a way to make the story so
well understood by all who looked upon it,
that he was called a socialist. No one was
so much surprised as Millet by that name.
"I never dreamed of being a leader in any
cause," he said. "I am a peasant--only a
peasant."</p> 

<p>Of his picture "The Reaper" a critic wrote,
"He might have reaped the whole earth."
All his pictures were sermons, he called them
"epics of the fields." He pretended to nothing
except to present things just as they were, as
he writes in a letter to a friend about "The
Water Carrier:"</p> 

<p>In the woman coming from drawing water I have
endeavoured that she shall be neither a water-carrier nor
a servant, but the woman who has just drawn water for
the house, the water for her husband's and her children's
soup; that she shall seem to be carrying neither more nor
less than the weight of the full buckets; that beneath the
sort of grimace which is natural on account of the strain
on her arms, and the blinking of her eyes caused by the
light, one may see a look of rustic kindliness on her face.
I have always shunned with a kind of horror everything
approaching the sentimental. I have desired on the other
hand, that this woman should perform simply and good-naturedly,
without regarding it as irksome, an act which,
like her other household duties, is one she is accustomed
to perform every day of her life. Also I wanted to make 
<a name="217"></a>
people imagine the freshness of the fountain, and that
its antiquated appearance should make it clear that many
before her had come to draw water from it.</p> 

<p>At forty he was in about the same condition
as he had been on that evening ten or twelve
years before, when he had entered Barbizon
carrying his two little daughters upon his
shoulders, his wife following with the servant
and a basket of food, to settle themselves down
to hardship made sweet by kind comradeship
and hope. Now a change came. Millet
painted "The Angelus." He was dreadfully
poor at that time and sold the picture cheaply,
but it laid the foundation of his fame and
fortune. He had worked upon the canvas
till he said he could hear the sound of the bell.
Although its first purchaser paid very little
for it, it has since been sold for one hundred
and fifty thousand dollars.</p> 

<p>At last, having struggled through his worst
days, without recognition, and with nine little
children to feed and clothe, he was given the
white cross of the Legion of Honour; and as
if to make up for the days of his starvation, he
was nearly feasted to death in Paris. He was
placed upon the hanging committee of the
<i>Salon</i>, and took a dignified place among
artists. He and Mère Millet travelled a little,
but always he returned to Barbizon, till the
war came and he had to move to Normandy
to work. Afterward he returned to Barbizon,
to the scenes and the old friends he loved so 
<a name="218"></a>
well, and there he died. He had come back
ill and tired with the long struggle, and he
instructed his friends to give him a simple
funeral. This was done. They carried his
coffin, while his wife and children walked
beside him to the cemetery, and he was buried
near the little church of Chailly, whose spire
is seen in "The Angelas," and where Rousseau,
whom he loved, had already been laid.</p> 

<p>There in Barbizon, to-day, may be seen
Rousseau's cottage and Millet's studio. "The
peasants sow and reap and glean as in the days
of Millet; Troyon's oxen and sheep are still
standing in the meadow; Jacque's poultry are
feeding in the barnyard. The leaves on
Rousseau's grand old trees are trembling in the
forest; Corot's misty morning is as fresh and
soft as ever; while Diaz's ruddy sunsets still
penetrate the branches; and the peasant pauses
daily as the Angelus from the Chailly church
calls him to silent prayer."</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE ANGELUS</center>

<p>In "The Angelus" you may see far-off the spire
of the church at Chailly, from which the bell
sounds. The day's work is drawing to a close.
The peasant man and woman have been digging
potatoes--the man uncovering them, while
his wife has been putting them in the basket.
As the Angelus floats across the fields, the two
pause and bow their heads in prayer. The 
<a name="219"></a>
man has dropped his fork and uncovered his
head, and his wife has clasped her hands
devoutly before her.</p> 

<p>All the air seems still and full of tender
sound and colour, and we, like Millet, seem
"to hear the bell." This is the only picture
he painted which is full of the sentimentality
he so much disliked. It is a great picture,
but we need to know the title in order to
interpret it.</p> 

<p>Besides this one, Millet painted "The
Gleaners," "The Woodcutters," "The Sower,"
"The Man with the Hoe;" "The Water Carrier,"
"The Reaper," and many other stories of the
peasant poor.</p> 

<p><a name="220"></a></p>
<h1>XXX</h1>

<h1>CLAUDE MONET</h1>

<center>(<i>Pronounced Claude Mo-nay</i>)<br>
<i>Impressionist School of France</i><br>
1840--</center>

<p>Another--Manet--was the founder
of this school among modern painters,
but Monet is always considered his most
conspicuous follower.</p> 

<p>Monet's remarkable method of putting his
colours upon canvas does not mean impressionism.
He is an impressionist but also
<i>Monet</i>--an artist with a method entirely
different from that of any other. He belongs
to what in France is called the <i>pointillistes</i>.
The word means nothing more nor less than
an effort to accomplish the impossible. If you
stand a little way from a very hot stove you
may be able to see a kind of movement in the
air, a quivering of particles or molecular motion,
and this is what the <i>pointillistes</i> try to show in
their paintings--Monet most of all.</p> 

<p>The theory is that by putting little dabs of
primitive colours, close together upon canvas,
without mixing them, just separate dabs of
red, yellow, blue, etc., the effect of movement
is produced. Needless to say, none of them
ever have produced such an effect, but they
<a name="221"></a>
have made such grotesque, ugly pictures that
they have attracted attention even as a humpbacked
person does.</p> 

<p>The first who painted thus was a Frenchman
named Seurat, who tried it after closely studying
experiments made in light and colour by
Professor Rood, of Columbia University.
After him came Pissarro, and then Monet.
America also has such a painter, Childe Hassam,
but nobody is so grotesque as Monet.</p> 

<p>He was born in Paris but spent most of his
youth in Havre, where he met a painter of
harbours and shipping scenes called Boudin.
Through his influence Monet studied out-of-door
effects, and was beginning to do fairly
good work, when he was drawn as a conscript
and sent to Algeria. It is written that Monet
discovered that "green, seen under strong
sunshine is not green, but yellow; that the
shadows cast by sunlight upon snow or upon
brightly lighted surfaces are not black, but
blue; and that a white dress, seen under the
shade of trees on a bright day, has violet or
lilac tones." This only means that these
things have been scientifically determined,
not that the naked eye ever perceives them,
and it is for the natural, unscientific eye that
art exists. None of us see the separate colours
of the spectrum, as we look about in every-day
fashion upon every-day objects.</p> 

<p>Professor Rood managed to produce an
intelligent effect by putting separate colours 
<a name="222"></a>
on discs and whirling these round so that the
colours mingled. Monet tried to do the same
by dotting his original colours close together,
and leaving the picture to its own destruction.
It ought to revolve, if the scientific idea is to
be carried out.</p> 

<p>Nothing desirable can be made out of his
pictures even when viewed from far off, while
at close range they are simply grotesque, and
photographs of them give the impression that
the entire landscape is wabbling to the ground.</p> 

<p>I wonder if anyone, small or grown up, can
understand this: "It was indeed a higher
kind of impressionism that Monet originated,
one that reveals a vivid rendering, not of the
natural and concrete facts, but of their
influence upon the spirit when they are wrapped
in the infinite diversities of that impalpable, immaterial,
universal medium which we call light,
when the concrete loses itself in the abstract,
and what is of time and matter impinges on the
eternal and the universal." Monet's pictures
look just as that explanation of them sounds!</p> 

<p>The same writer says that Monet was greater
than Corot because he was more sensitive to
colour; but if Monet had been as sensitive to
colour as Corot, he could not have lived and
looked at his own pictures.</p> 

<center>PLATE--HAYSTACK IN SUNSHINE</center>

<p>The main feature of this picture is such a
hay stack as never existed anywhere, of 
<a name="223"></a>
indescribable lurid colour, against a background
of blue such as never was seen. All
about there are violet and rose-coloured
trees, and it is a picture that every child should
know, because he is likely never to have
another such opportunity.</p> 

<p>Monet has made two interesting pictures of
churches, one at Vernon, the other at Varangeville.</p>

<p><a name="224"></a></p>
<h1>XXXI</h1>

<h1>MURILLO (BARTOLOME ESTEBAN)</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Moo-reel'oh Bar-tol-o-may' A-stay'bahn)<br>
<i>Andalusian School</i><br>
1617-1682<br>
<i>Pupil of Juan del Castillo</i></center>

<p>The story of Murillo has been delightfully
told by Mrs. Sarah Bolton.</p> 

<p>Like Velasquez, he was born in Seville, a
city called "the glory of the Spanish realms,"
and was baptised on New Year's day, 1618,
in the Church of the Magdalen.</p> 

<p>Murillo's father paid his rent in work,
instead of in money. He made a bargain with
the convent who owned his house that he
would keep it in repair if he might have it
free of rent, so there Gaspar Estéban and his
wife, Maria Perez, settled. "Perez" was the
family name of Murillo's mother, who had
very good connections; one of her brothers,
Juan del Castillo, being a man who encouraged
all art and had an art school of his own. Little
Murillo therefore had encouragement from the
start, an unusual circumstance at a time when
parents rarely wished to think of their sons
as painters. As a matter of fact, his mother
would have preferred that he should become a
priest, but she was kind and sensible, and put
<a name="225"></a>
no difficulties in the way of the little Murillo
doing as he wished.</p> 

<p>The story goes that the Perez family had
been very rich, but, however it may have been,
that was not the case when the artist was born.
One day after his mother had gone to church,
Murillo being left at home alone, retouched
a picture that hung upon the wall. It was a
picture of sacred subject--"Jesus and the
Lamb." He thought he could make some
improvements in it, so he painted his own hat
upon the head of Jesus and changed the lamb
into a little dog. His mother was a good deal
shocked at what seemed to her an irreligious
act, though it showed the family genius. After
that the boy was found to be painting upon the
walls of his schoolroom, and making sketches
upon the margins of his books, though he
did little else at school.</p> 

<p>He had one sister, Therese, and they were
left without father or mother before the artist
was eleven years old.</p> 

<p>It was at that time that he received the name
of "Murillo" by which he is known.</p> 

<p>It came about thus: After the death of his
parents he went to live with his mother's
sister, the Doña Anna Murillo, who had
married a surgeon called Juan Agustin Lagares,
and since the little artist was to live with his
aunt, he soon became known by her family
name. There, in her home, he and his sister
Therese, were brought up, but he was not to 
<a name="226"></a>
become a surgeon like his uncle-in-law, but an
artist like his uncle Juan, the teacher in Seville.
That uncle took him in hand, taught the boy to
draw, to mix colours, to stretch his canvas,
and soon Murillo's genius won the love of
master and pupils.</p> 

<p>In peace and reasonable comfort he served
a nine years apprenticeship, and painted his
first important, if not especially great, pictures.
These were two Madonnas, one of them "The
Story of the Rosary." St. Dominic had
instituted the rosary; using fifteen large and
one hundred and fifty small beads upon which
to keep record of the number of prayers he
had said; the large beads representing the
<i>Paternosters and Glorias</i> and the small ones, the
<i>Aves</i>. This practical way of indicating duties
helped the heedless to concentrate their attention,
and did much to increase the number of
prayers offered. Indeed, it is said that "by
this single expedient Dominic did more to
excite the devotion of the lower orders, especially
of the women, and made more converts,
than by all his orthodoxy, learning, arguments,
and eloquence." It was this incident in the
history of the Catholic Church that Murillo
commemorated.</p> 

<p>When the artist was twenty-two years old,
his uncle, Juan del Castillo, broke up his home
and went elsewhere to live, leaving the artist
without home or means, and with his little
sister to take care of. Without vanity or 
<a name="227"></a>
ambition, but with only the wish to care for
his sister and to get food, the marvellous painter
took himself to the market place, and there,
wedged in between stalls, old clothes, vegetables,
all sorts of wares, like a wanderer and a gypsy,
he began his career.</p> 

<p>At the weekly market--the <i>Feria</i> or fair,
opposite the Church of All Saints--his brotherly,
kindly feeling for the vagabonds he daily met
is shown in the treatment he gives them in
his wonderful pictures. During the two years
that he worked in that open-air studio he had
flower-girls, muleteers, hucksters all about him,
and he painted dozens of rough pictures which
found quick sale among the patrons of the
market. What Velasquez was doing in the
court of Madrid, Murillo was doing in the
streets of Seville; the one painting cardinals,
kings, and courtiers; the other painting beggars,
<i>gamins</i>, and waifs. Between the two, the
world has been shown the social history of
Spain as it then existed.</p> 

<p>Through a peculiar happening, the American
Indian saw the beauties of Murillo's work
before Europe was even conscious there was
such a man. In his old home, his uncle's
studio, Murillo had had a dear comrade, Moya.
They had not met for two years or more, and
when they did come together again Moya
told Murillo he had been travelling, that he
had been to Flanders with the Spanish army,
and thence to London, in both places seeing
<a name="228"></a>
gorgeous paintings and other inspiring things.
He opened the eyes of Murillo to the splendours
the world contained, and the artist became
wild with desire to go and see them for himself,
but he had no money. He was painting pictures
in the market place of Seville and getting so
little for his hasty work that he could barely
support himself and little Therese. What must
he do in order to get to London and see the
world?</p> 

<p>What he did do was to buy a piece of linen,
cut it into six pieces and hide himself long
enough to paint upon them "saints, flowers,
fruit and landscapes," and then he went forth
to sell them.</p> 

<p>He actually sold those pictures to a ship-owner
who was sending his ship to the West
Indies. Eventually they were hung upon the
walls of a mission in wild, far off America.
It is said that after this Murillo made no little
money by painting such pictures, destined to
give the American savage an idea of the
Christian religion. One cannot but wonder
if there may not be, all unknown to us, Murillo
pictures, made in the market-place of Seville
nearly three hundred years ago, hidden away
in the remains of those old Spanish missions,
even to-day. Such a picture would be more
rare than the greatest that he ever painted.</p> 

<p>After selling his six pictures Murillo started
a-foot, not to London but on a terrible journey
across the Sierra Mountains, to Madrid--the 
<a name="229"></a>
home of Velasquez. Murillo knew that this
native of Seville had become a famous artist.
He was powerful and rich and at the court of
Philip II., while Murillo had no place to lay
his head, and besides he had left Therese behind
in Seville in the care of friends. He had no
claim upon the kindness of Velasquez but he
determined to see him; to introduce himself
and possibly to gain a friend. It was under
these forlorn circumstances he made himself
known to the great Spanish court painter.</p> 

<p>The story of their meeting is a fine one. For
Murillo Velasquez had a warm embrace, a kind
and hospitable word. The stranger told Velasquez
how he had crossed the mountains on
foot, was penniless, but could use his brush.
Instead of jealousy and suspicion, the young
man met with nothing but the most cheerful
encouragement, found the Velasquez home
open to him, took up his lodging there and
established his workshop with nothing around
him but friendship and the sympathy his nature
craved.</p> 

<p>From the market-place to the home of
Velasquez and the Palace of Philip II.! It was
a beautiful dream to Murillo.</p> 

<p>With what splendour of colour and mastery
of design he illuminated the annals of the poor!
Coming forth from some dim chancel or palace-hall
in which he had been working on a majestic
Madonna picture, he would sketch in, with
the brush still loaded with the colours of 
<a name="230"></a>
celestial glory, the lineaments of the beggar
crouching by the wall, or the gypsy calmly
reposing in the black shadow of an archway.
Such versatility had never before been seen
west of the Mediterranean, and it commanded
the admiration of his countrymen.</p> 

<p>All his beggarly little children, neglected and
houseless, appeared only to be full of cheer
and merriment, with soft eyes and contented
faces. It was a happy, care-free, gay, and
kindly beggardom that he painted, with nothing
in it to sadden the heart.</p> 

<p>Thus he lived for three years; working in
the galleries of the king, making friends at
court, painting beautiful women, gallant
cavaliers and fascinating little beggars.</p> 

<p>In the course of time, however, he grew
restless, and Velasquez wished to give him
letters of introduction to Roman artists and
people of quality, advising him to go to Rome
to study the greatest art in the world. This
was an alluring plan to Murillo, but after all
he longed for his own home and chose to return
there rather than go to Rome. Besides, his
sister Therese was still in Seville.</p> 

<p>Once more in his home, at one stroke of his
magic brush Murillo raised himself and a
monastic order from obscurity to greatness.
In his native city was the order of San Francisco.
The monks had long wished to have their
convent decorated in a worthy manner by some
artist of repute; but they were poor and had 
<a name="231"></a>
never been able to engage such a painter.
When Murillo got back home, he was as badly
in need of work as the Franciscans were in
want of an artist. The monks held a council
and finally agreed upon a price which they
could pay and which Murillo could live upon.
Then he began a wonderful set of eleven large
paintings. Among them were many saints,
dark and rich in colouring, and no sooner was
it known that the paintings were being made
than all the rich and powerful people of Seville
flocked to the convent to see the work. They
gathered about the young artist, overwhelmed
him with honours and praise, and the monastery
was crowded from morning till night with
those who wished to study his work. From
that moment Murillo's fame, if not his fortune,
was made.</p> 

<p>He married a rich and noble lady with the
tremendous name of Doña Beatriz de Cabrera y
Sotomayer. He had fallen in love with her
while painting her as an angel.</p> 

<p>About that time he formed a strange partnership
with a landscape painter, who agreed to
supply the backgrounds that his pictures
needed, if Murillo would paint figures into his
landscapes. This plan did very well for a
little time, but it did not last long.</p> 

<p>Murillo painted in three distinct styles, and
these have come to be known as the "warm,"
the "cold," and the "vaporous." He painted
pictures in the great cathedral of the Escorial 
<a name="232"></a>
and the "Guardian Angel" was one of them.
Also, he painted "St. Anthony of Padua,"
and of this picture there is one of those absurd
stories meant to illustrate the perfection of
art. It is said that the lilies in it are so
natural that the birds flew down the cathedral
aisles to pluck at them. Many artists have
painted this saint, but Murillo's is the best
picture of all.</p> 

<p>When the nephew of his first master, Murillo's
cousin, saw that work he said: "It is all over
with Castillo! Is it possible that Murillo,
that servile imitator of my uncle, can be the
author of all this grace and beauty of
colouring?"</p> 

<p>The Duke of Wellington offered for this
picture as many gold pieces "as would cover
its surface of fifteen square feet." This would
have been about two hundred and forty thousand
dollars; but we need not imagine that
Murillo received any such sum for the work.
This picture has a further interesting history.
The canvas was cut from the frame by thieves
in 1874, and later it was sold to Mr. Schaus,
the connoisseur and picture dealer of New York.
He paid $250 for it, and at once put it into
the hands of the Spanish consul, who restored
it to the cathedral.</p> 

<p>The story of the saint whom Murillo painted
is as interesting as Murillo's own. Among the
many wonderful things said to have happened
to him was that a congregation of fishes hearing
<a name="233"></a>
his voice as he preached beside the sea, came
to the top and lifted up their heads to listen.</p> 

<p>While Murillo was doing his work, he was
living a happy, domestic life. He had three
children, and doubtless he used them as
models for his lively cherubs, as he used his
wife's face for madonnas and angels.</p> 

<p>He founded an academy of painting in
Seville, for the entrance to which a student
could not qualify unless he made the following
declaration: "Praised be the most Holy
Sacrament and the pure conception of Our
Lady."</p> 

<p>The most delightful stories are told of
Murillo's kindness and sweetness of disposition.
He had a slave who loved him and who, one
day while Murillo was gone from the studio,
painted in the head of the Virgin which the
master had left incomplete. When Murillo
returned and saw the excellent work he cried:
"I am fortunate, Sebastian"--the slave's
name--"For I have not created only pictures
but an artist!" This slave was set free by
Murillo and in the course of time he painted
many splendid pictures which are to-day
highly prized in Seville.</p> 

<p>This is a description of Murillo's house which
is still to be seen near the Church of Santa
Cruz: "The courtyard contains a marble
fountain, amidst flowering shrubs, and is
surrounded on three sides by an arcade upheld
by marble pillars. At the rear is a pretty 
<a name="234"></a>
garden, shaded by cypress and citron trees, and
terminated by a wall whereon are the remains
of ancient frescoes which have been attributed
to the master himself. The studio is on the
upper floor, and overlooks the Moorish battlements,
commanding a beautiful view to the
eastward, over orange groves and rich corn-lands,
out to the gray highlands about Alcala."</p>

<p>Murillo's fame brought fortune to his little
sister, Therese. She married a nobleman of
Burgos, a knight of Santiago and judge of the
royal colonial court. He became the chief
secretary of state for Madrid.</p> 

<p>Murillo made money, but gave almost all
that he made to the poor, though he did not
make money in the service of the Church, as
Velasquez made it in the service of the king.</p> 

<p>His work of more than twenty pictures in
the Capuchin Church of Seville occupied him
for three years, and in that time he did not
leave the convent for a single day.</p> 

<p>Of all the charming stories told of this
glorious artist, one which is connected with his
work in that church is the most picturesque.
It seems that every one within the walls loved
him, and among others a lay brother who was
cook. This man begged for some little personal
token from Murillo and since there was no
canvas at hand, the artist bade the cook leave
the napkin which he had brought to cover
his food, and during the day he painted upon
it a Madonna and child, so natural that one of 
<a name="235"></a>
his biographers declares the child seems about
to spring from Mary's arms. This souvenir
made for the cook of the Capuchin, convent
has been reproduced again and again, as one
of the artist's greatest performances.</p> 

<p>Toward the close of his happy life, he became
more and more devout, spending many hours
before an altar-piece in the Church of Santa
Cruz where was a picture of "The Descent
from the Cross," by Pedro Campana. "Why
do you always tarry before 'The Descent from
the Cross?'" the sacristan once asked of him.</p> 

<p>"I am waiting till those men have brought
the body of our blessed Lord down the ladder."
Murillo answered. His wife had died, his
daughter had become a nun, and all that was
left to him was his dear son Gaspar, when in his
sixty-third year he began his last work, "The
Marriage of St. Catherine." He had not finished
this when he fell from the scaffolding upon
which he was working, and fatally hurt himself.
He died, with his son beside him. He was a
much loved man, and when he was buried, his
bier was carried by "two marquises and four
knights and followed by a great concourse of
people." He chose to be buried beneath
the picture he loved so much--"The Descent
from the Cross," and upon his grave was laid
a stone carved with his name, a skeleton and
an inscription in Latin which means "Live as
one who is about to die."</p> 

<p>The church has since been destroyed, and 
<a name="236"></a>
on its site is the Plaza Santa Cruz, but Murillo's
grave is marked by a tablet.</p> 

<p>Each country seems to have had at least one
man of beautiful heart and mind, to represent
its art. Raphael in Italy, Murillo in Spain,
were types of gentle and greatly beloved men.
Leonardo in Italy and Dürer in Nuremberg,
were types of forceful, intellectual men,
highly respected and of great benefit to the
world.</p> 

<p>Of all the painters who ever lived, Murillo
was the one who painted little children with
the most loving and fascinating touch.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION</center>

<p>Besides the little angels in this picture, we
have a bewildering choice among many other
beauties.</p> 

<p>Many pictures of this subject have been
painted, and many were painted by Murillo,
but the one presented here is the greatest of all.
It hangs in the Louvre, Salle VI. Mary seems
to be suspended in the heavens, not standing
upon clouds. Under the hem of her garments
is the circle of the moon, while there is the effect
of hundreds of little cherub children massed
about her feet, in a little swarm at the right,
where the shadow falls heaviest, and still
others, half lost in the vapoury background
at the left, where the heavenly light streams
upon them, and brilliantly lights up the Virgin's
<a name="237"></a>
gown. In this picture are all Murillo's beloved
child figures, some carrying little streamers,
their tiny wings a-flutter and all crowding
lovingly about Mary. Far below this gorgeous
group we can imagine the dark and weary
earth lost in shadow.</p> 

<p>Among Murillo's most famous paintings are:
"The Birth of the Virgin," "Two Beggar Boys,"
"The Madonna of the Rosary," "The
Annunciation," "Adoration of the Shepherds,"
"Holy Family," "Education of Mary," "The
Dice Players," and "The Vision of St. Anthony."
<a name="238"></a></p>

<h1>XXXII</h1>

<h1>RAPHAEL (SANZIO)</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Rah'fay-el (Sahnt'syoh))<br>
1483-1590<br>
<i>Umbrian, Florentine, and Roman Schools</i><br>
<i>Pupil of Perugino</i></center> 

<p>It was said of Raphael that "every evil
humour vanished when his comrades saw
him, every low thought fled from their minds";
and this was because they felt themselves
vanquished by his pleasant ways and sweet
nature.</p> 

<p>Imagine his beautiful face, with its sunny
eyes, reflecting no shadow of sadness or pain.
Such a one was sure to be beloved by all.</p> 

<p>The father of Raphael was Giovanni Santi,
himself an able artist. Both he and Raphael
studied in many schools and took the best from
each. The son was brought up in an Italian
court, that of Guidobaldo of Urbino, where the
father was a favourite poet and painter, so that
he had at least one generation of art-lovers
behind him, at a time when learning and art
were much prized. Nothing ever entered
into his life that was sad or sorrowful; his
whole existence was a triumph of beautiful
achievements. There were three great artists
of that time, the other two being Michael 
<a name="239"></a>
Angelo and Leonardo da Vinci, both of whom
were absolutely unlike Raphael in their art
and in their characters.</p> 

<p>Raphael was born on April 6th at Contrada
del Monte in the ducal city of Urbino.
His mother's name was Magia Ciarla, and
she was the daughter of an Urbino merchant.
She had three children besides the great painter,
all of whom died young, and when Raphael
was but eight years old his mother died also.
It is said that it was from her Raphael inherited
his beauty, goodness, mildness, and genius.
His father's patron, the Duke of Urbino, was
a fine soldier, but he also cherished scholarship
and art, and kept at his court not less than
twenty or thirty persons at work copying
Greek and Latin manuscript which he wished
to add to his library.</p> 

<p>Raphael had a stepmother, Bernardina,
the daughter of a goldsmith, a good and forceful
woman, but not gentle like the first wife; and
when Raphael was eleven years of age his
father, too, died. By his father's will Raphael
became the charge of his uncle Bartolommeo,
a priest, but the property was left to the stepmother
so long as she remained unmarried.
Almost at once the priest and the stepmother
fell to quarreling over the spoils, and thus
Raphael was left pretty much to his own
devices, but just when life began to look dark
and sad for him, his mother's brother took a
hand in the situation. He settled the dispute 
<a name="240"></a>
between the priest and the second wife, and
arranged that Raphael should be placed in the
studio of some great painter, for the loving
lad had already worked in his father's studio,
and had given promise of his wonderful gifts.
So he became the pupil of Perugino, a painter
noted for his fine colouring and sympathetic
handling of his subjects. At that time, Italian
schools were less wonderful in colouring than
in other matters of technique.</p> 

<p>"Let him become my pupil," said Perugino,
when Raphael was brought to him and some of
his work was exhibited; "soon he will be my
master." A very different attitude from that
of Ghirlandajo toward Michael Angelo.</p> 

<p>Raphael and his master became friends and
worked together for nine years.</p> 

<p>His first work was not conceived until
Raphael was seventeen. It was to be a
surprise to his master who had gone to Florence.
A banner was wanted for the Church of S.
Trinita at Citta di Castello, and Raphael undertook
it, painting the "Trinity," on one canvas
and the "Creation of Man" on another. Then
he painted the "Crucifixion," which was bought
by Cardinal Fesch, who lived in Rome. That
painting is now in a collection of the Earl of
Dudley. It was sold away from Rome in 1845,
for twelve thousand dollars--or a little more.
No one will deny that this is an unusual sum
for an artist's first work, but about the same
time he did a much more wonderful thing.</p> 

<p><a name="241"></a>
He painted a little picture, six and three-quarter
inches square. It was of the Virgin walking
in the springtime, before the leaves had appeared
upon the trees, and with snow-capped
mountains behind her. She holds the infant
Jesus in her arms while she reads from a small
book, and the little child looks upon the page
with her. This six inches of beauty sold to
the Emperor of Russia, in 1871, for sixty
thousand dollars.</p> 

<p>Before Raphael was twenty-one, he had left
his master's studio and had gone into the
splendid world of Rome, where Angelo was
straining at his bonds. But how differently
each accepted his life! The gentle Raphael,
who took the best of the ideas of all great
painters, and gave to them his own exquisite
characteristics, was beloved of all, shed light
upon art and friends alike. To such a one all
life was joyous. Michael Angelo, trying ever
to do the impossible, betraying his hatred of
limitations in all that he did, doing always
that which aroused horror, distress, longing,
elemental feelings, in those who studied his
wonderful work, and giving hope and satisfaction
and peace to none--to such as he life
must ever have been hateful and painful.
These men lived at the same time, among the
same people.</p> 

<p>One of Raphael's greatest pictures came
into the possession of a poor widow, who being
hard pressed by poverty, sold it to a bookseller 
<a name="242"></a>
for twelve scudi. In time it was bought from
the bookseller by Grand Duke Ferdinand III.
of Tuscany, who prayed before it night and
morning, taking it with him on his travels.
That picture is now in the Pitti Palace at
Florence and it is called the "Madonna del
Granduca." The Berlin Museum purchased
a Raphael Madonna for $34,000 which was
painted about the same time as these
others, but after a little the artist left
Florence where he had been studying the
methods of Leonardo and Angelo and returned
to Urbino, the home he loved, where his conduct
was such that all the world seems to have
become his lover. It is written that he was
"the only very distinguished man of whom we
read, who lived and died without an enemy
or detractor!" No better can ever be said of
any one.</p> 

<p>While he dwelt in Perugia and Urbino he
had painted the "Ansidei Madonna," so called
because that was the name of the family for
which it was painted. That Madonna was
sold in 1884 to the National Gallery, by the
Duke of Marlborough for $350,000. A Madonna
on a round plaque-like canvas, 42-3/4 inches in
diameter, was bought by the Duke of Bridgewater
for $60,000. It is the "Holy Family
under a Palm Tree," painted originally for a
friend, Taddeo Taddei, who was a Florentine
scholar. Many of the pictures which after many
vicissitudes have landed far from home and been 
<a name="243"></a>
bought for fabulous sums were painted for love
of some friend, or were paid for by modest sums
at the time the artist received the commissions.
Lord Ellesmere in London now owns the
"Holy Family under a Palm Tree."</p> 

<p>It is said of Raphael that whenever another
painter, known to him or not, requested any
design or assistance of any kind at his hands,
he would invariably leave his work to perform
the service. He continually kept a large
number of artists employed, all of whom he
assisted and instructed with an affection which
was rather that of a father to his children than
merely of an artist to artists. From this it
followed that he was never seen to go to court,
except surrounded and accompanied, as he
left his house, by some fifty painters, all men
of ability and distinction, who attended him,
thus to give evidence of the honour in which
they held him. He did not, in short, live the
life of a painter, but that of a prince.</p> 

<p>There is something wonderfully inspiring
about such a life. We read of emperors and
the homage paid to them; of the esteem in
which men who accomplish deeds of universal
value are held, but nowhere do we behold
the power of a beautiful and exquisite personality
and character, allied with a single art,
so impressively exhibited.</p> 

<p>He urged nothing, yet won all things by the
force of his loving and sympathetic mind.
"How is it, dear Cesare that we live in such 
<a name="244"></a>
good friendship, but that in the art of painting
we show no deference to each other?" he
asked of Cesare da Sesto, who was Da Vinci's
greatest pupil.</p> 

<p>In discussing the great ones of the earth,
Herman Grimm, son of the collector of fairy
tales, says: "Can we mention a violent act of
Raphael's, Goethe's or Shakespeare's? No, it
is restful only to recall these wonderful men."</p> 

<p>One of Raphael's most beautiful Virgins was
modeled from a beautiful flower-girl whom he
loved, "La Belle Jardinière."</p> 

<p>Raphael as well as Michael Angelo was
summoned by Pope Julius II., but how
different were the two occasions! Michael
Angelo had stood with dogged, gloomy self-assertiveness
before the pope, head covered,
knee unbent. Uncompromising, while yet no
injury had been done him, resentful before he
had received a single cause for resentment,
the attitude was typical of his art and his
unhappy life.</p> 

<p>When Raphael appeared, his bent knee, his
"chestnut locks falling upon his shoulders,
the pope exclaimed: ' He is an innocent
angel. I will give him Cardinal Bembo for a
teacher, and he shall fill my walls with historical
pictures.'" The artist's behaviour was no
sign of servility, but the simple recognition of
forms and customs which the people themselves
had made and by which they had decided they
should graciously be bound. The attitude of 
<a name="245"></a>
Angelo was not heroic but vulgar; that of
Raphael not servile, but in good taste, showing
a reasonable mind.</p> 

<p>Pope Julius had summoned Raphael for a
special reason. Alexander VI., his predecessor
in the Vatican, had been a depraved man.
The fair and virile Julius had a healthy
sentiment against occupying rooms which must
continually remind him of the notorious
Alexander's mode of life. Some one suggested
that he have all the portraits of the former pope
removed, but Julius declared: "Even if the
portraits were destroyed, the walls themselves
would remind me of that Simoniac, that Jew!"
The word 'Jew' was then execrated by all
Christians, for the world was not yet Christian
enough to know better.</p> 

<p>Raphael was summoned to decorate the
Vatican, that Julius might have a place which
reminded him not at all of Alexander. It is
said that when Raphael had completed one of
his masterpieces the pope threw himself upon
the ground and cried, "I thank Thee, God, that
Thou hast sent me so great a painter!"</p> 

<p>While at work upon his first fresco at the
Vatican--"La Disputa," the dispute over
the Holy Sacrament--Raphael met a woman
with whom he fell deeply in love. Her father
was a soda manufacturer and her name was
Margherita. Missirini relates this incident in
Raphael's career.</p> 

<p>"She lived on the other side of the Tiber. 
<a name="246"></a>
A small house, No. 20, in the street of Santa
Dorothea, the windows of which are decorated
with a pretty frame work of earthenware,
is pointed out as the house where she was born.</p> 

<p>"The beautiful girl was very frequently in
a little garden adjoining the house, where,
the wall not being very high, it was easy to see
her from the outside. So the young men,
especially artists--always passionate admirers
of beauty--did not fail to come and look at
her, by climbing up above the wall.</p> 

<p>"Raphael is said to have seen her for the
first time as she was bathing her pretty feet
in a little fountain in the garden. Struck by
her perfect beauty, he fell deeply in love with
her, and after having made acquaintance with
her, and discovered that her mind was as
beautiful as her body, he became so much
attached as to be unable to live without her."</p> 

<p>She is spoken of to-day as the "Fornarina,"
because at first she was supposed to have
been the daughter of a baker (<i>fornajo</i>).</p> 

<p>Raphael made many rough studies for his
picture "La Disputa," and upon them he left
three sonnets, written to the woman so dear to
him. These sonnets have been translated by
the librarian of l'Ecole Nationale des Beaux-Arts,
as follows: "Love, thou hast bound me
with the light of two eyes which torment me,
with a face like snow and roses, with sweet
words and tender manners. So great is my
ardour that no river or sea could extinguish 
<a name="247"></a>
my fire. But I do not complain, for my
ardour makes me happy.... How sweet
was the chain, how light the yoke of her
white arms about my neck. When these bonds
were loosed, I felt a mortal grief. I will say
no more; a great joy kills, and, though my
thoughts turn to thee, I will keep silence."</p>

<p>Although he had been a man of many loves,
Raphael must have found in the manufacturer's
daughter his best love, because he remained
faithful and devoted to her for the twelve
years of life that were left to him. It was said
some years later, while he was engaged upon a
commission for a rich banker, that "Raphael
was so much occupied with the love that he
bore to the lady of his choice that he could not
give sufficient attention to his work. Agostino
(the banker) therefore, falling at length into
despair of seeing it finished, made so many
efforts by means of friends and by his own care
that after much difficulty he at length prevailed
on the lady to take up her abode in his house,
where she was accordingly installed, in apartments
near those which Raphael was painting;
In this manner the work was ultimately brought
to a conclusion."</p> 

<p>Raphael painted this beautiful lady-love
many times, and in a picture in which she
wears a bracelet he has placed his name upon
the ornament.</p> 

<p>After this time he painted the "Madonna
della Casa d'Alba," which the Duchess d'Alba 
<a name="248"></a>
gave to her physician for curing her of a grave
disorder. She died soon afterward, and the
physician was arrested on the charge of having
poisoned her. In course of time the picture
was purchased for $70,000 by the Russian
Emperor, and it is now in "The Hermitage,"
St. Petersburg.</p> 

<p>A writer telling of that time, relates the
following anecdote: "Raphael of Urbino had
painted for Agostino Chigi (the rich banker
already mentioned) at Santa Maria della Pace,
some prophets and sibyls, on which he had
received an advance of five hundred scudi.
One day he demanded of Agostino's cashier
(Giulio Borghesi) the remainder of the sum
at which he estimated his work. The cashier,
being astounded at this demand, and thinking
that the sum already paid was sufficient, did
not reply. 'Cause the work to be estimated
by a judge of painting,' replied Raphael, 'and
you will see how moderate my demand is.'</p> 

<p>"Giulio Borghesi thought of Michael Angelo
for this valuation, and begged him to go to
the church and estimate the figures of Raphael.
Possibly he imagined that self-love, rivalry,
and jealousy would lead the Florentine to
lower the price of the pictures.</p> 

<p>"Michael Angelo went, accompanied by the
cashier, to Santa Maria della Pace, and, as he
was contemplating the fresco without uttering
a word, Borghesi questioned him. 'That
head,' replied Michael Angelo, pointing to one 
<a name="249"></a>
of the sibyls, 'that head is worth a hundred
scudi.' ... 'and the others?' asked the
cashier. 'The others are not less.'</p> 

<p>"Someone who witnessed this scene related
it to Chigi. He heard every particular and,
offering in addition to the five hundred scudi
for five heads a hundred scudi to be paid for
each of the others, he said to his cashier, 'go
and give that to Raphael in payment for his
heads, and behave very politely to him, so that
he may be satisfied; for if he insists on my
paying also for the drapery, we should probably
be ruined!'"</p> 

<p>By the time Raphael was thirty-one he was
a rich man, and had built himself a beautiful
house near the Vatican, on the Via di Borgo
Nuova. Naught remains of that dwelling
except an angle of the right basement, which
has been made a part of the Accoramboni
Palace. His friends wished him above all
things to marry, but he was still true to Margherita
though he had become engaged to
the daughter of his nephew. He put the
marriage off year after year, till finally the
lady he was to have married died, and was
buried in Raphael's chapel in the Pantheon.</p> 

<p>Margherita was with him when he died, and
it was to her that he left much of his wealth.</p> 

<p>In the time of Raphael excavations were
being made about Rome, and many beautiful
statues uncovered, and he was charged
with the supervision of this work in order that 
<a name="250"></a>
no art treasure should be lost or overlooked.
The pope decreed that if the excavators failed
to acquaint Raphael with every stone and
tablet that should he unearthed, they should
be fined from one to three hundred gold crowns.</p> 

<p>Raphael had his many paintings copied under
his own eye and engraved, and then distributed
broadcast, so that not only men of great wealth
but the common people might study them.</p> 

<p>Henry VIII. invited him to visit England, and
become court painter, and Francis I. wished
him to become the court painter of France.</p> 

<p>He loved history, and wished to write certain
historical works. He loved poetry and wrote
it. He loved philosophy and lived it--the
philosophy of generous feeling and kindly
thought for all the world. He kept poor
artists in his own home and provided for them.</p> 

<p>Raphael died on Good Friday night,
April 6th, in his thirty-seventh year, and all
Rome wept. He lay in state in his beautiful
home, with his unfinished picture of the
"Transfiguration," as background for his
catafalque. That painting with its colours
still wet, was carried in the procession to his
burial place in the Pantheon. When his death
was announced, the pope, Leo X., wept and
cried <i>"Ora pro nobis!"</i> while the Ambassador
from Mantua wrote home that "nothing is talked
of here but the loss of the man who at the close
of his six-and-thirtieth year has now ended
his first life; his second, that of his posthumous 
<a name="251"></a>
fame, independent of death and transitory
things, through his works, and in what the
learned will write in his praise, must continue
forever."</p>

<p>Raphael painted two hundred and eighty-seven
pictures in his thirty-seven years of life.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE SISTINE MADONNA</center>

<p>It is said that the "Sistine Madonna," while
painted from an Italian model--doubtless
the lady whom Raphael so dearly loved--has
universal characteristics, so that she may "be
understood by everyone."</p> 

<p>He lived only three years after painting this
picture and it was the last "Holy Family"
painted by him. The Madonna stands upon a
curve of the earth, which is scarcely to be seen,
and looming mistily in front of her is a mass of
white vaporous clouds. On either side are
figures, St. Sixtus (for whom the picture was
named) and St. Barbara. Beside St. Sixtus
we see a crown or tiara; and the little tower at
St. Barbara's side is a part of her story.</p> 

<p>Barbara was the daughter of an Eastern
nobleman who feared that her great beauty
might lead to her being carried off; therefore
he caused her to be shut up in a great tower.
While thus imprisoned Barbara became a
Christian through the influence of a holy man,
and she begged her father to make three
windows in her gloomy tower: one, to let the 
<a name="252"></a>
light of the Father stream upon her, another
to admit the light of the Son, and the third
that she might bathe in the light of the Holy
Ghost. Both St. Barbara and St. Sixtus were
martyrs for their faith.</p> 

<p>This Madonna is painted as if enclosed by
green velvet curtains, which have been drawn
aside, letting the golden light of the picture
blaze upon the one who looks; then upon a
little ledge below, looking out from the heavens,
are two little cherubs--known to all the world.
They look wistful, wise, roguish, and beautiful,
with fat little arms resting comfortably upon
the ledge. Raphael is said to have found his
models for these little angels in the street,
leaning wistfully upon the ledge of a baker's
window, looking at the good things to eat,
which were within. Raphael took them, put
wings to them, placed them at the feet of
Mary, and made two little images which have
brought smiles and tears to a multitude of
people. The "Sistine Madonna" hangs alone
in a room in the Dresden Gallery.</p> 

<p>Among Raphael's greatest works are: The
"Madonna della Sedia" (of the chair), "La Belle
Jardinière," "The School of Athens," "Saint
Cecilia," "The Transfiguration," "Death of
Ananias" (a cartoon for a series of tapestries),
"Madonna del Pesce," "La Disputa," "The
Marriage of Mary and Joseph," "St. George
Slaying the Dragon," "St. Michael Attacking
Satan" and the "Coronation of the Virgin."</p> 

<p><a name="253"></a></p>
<h1>XXXIII</h1>

<h1>REMBRANDT (VAN RIJN)</h1>

<center><i>Dutch School</i><br>
1606-1669<br>
<i>Pupil of Van Swanenburch</i></center>

<p>Here are a few of the titles that have been
given to the greatest Dutch painter that
ever lived: The Shakespeare of Painting; the
Prince of Etchers; the King of Shadows; the
Painter of Painters. Muther calls him a "hero
from cloudland," and not only does he alone
wear these titles of greatness, but he alone
in his family had the name of Rembrandt.</p> 

<p>One writer has said that the great painter
was born "in a windmill," but this is not true.
He was born in Leyden for certain, though
not a great deal is known about his youth; and
his father was a miller, his mother a baker's
daughter.</p> 

<p>When the Pilgrim Fathers, who had sought
safety in Leyden, were starting for America,
where they were going to oppress others as
they had been oppressed, Rembrandt was
just beginning his apprenticeship in art.</p> 

<p>He was born at No. 3, Weddesteg, a house 
on the rampart looking out upon the Rhine 
whose two arms meet there. In front of it 
whirled the great arms of his father's windmill, 
<a name="254"></a>
though he was not born in it; and of all the
women Rembrandt ever knew, it is not likely
that he ever admired or loved one as passionately
as he admired and loved his mother. He
painted and etched her again and again, with a
touch so tender that his deepest emotion is
placed before us.</p> 

<p>Rembrandt had brothers and sisters--five: 
Adriaen, Gerrit, Machteld, Cornelis, and Willem.
Of these, Adriaen became a miller like his
father, and presumably the old historic windmill
fell to him; Willem became a baker, but
Rembrandt, the fourth child, it was determined
should be a learned man, and belong to one
of the honoured professions, such as the law.
So he was sent to the Leyden Academy, but
here again we have an artist who decided he
knew enough of all else but art before he was
twelve years old. He found himself at that age
in the studio of his first art-master, Jacob van
Swanenburch, a relative, who had studied art
in Italy, and was a good master for the lad;
but Rembrandt became so brilliant a painter
in three years' time, that he was sent to Amsterdam
to learn of abler men.</p> 

<p>The lad could not in those days get far from
his adored mother; so he stayed only a little
time, before he went back to Leyden where she
was. There was his heart, and, painting or no
painting, he must be near it.</p> 

<p>Until the past thirty years no one has
seemed to know a great deal of Rembrandt's 
<a name="255"></a>
early history, but much was written of him
as a boorish, gross, vulgar fellow. Those
stories were false. He was a devoted son,
handsome, studious in art, and earnest in
all that he did, and after he had made his
first notable painting he was compelled by the
demands of his work to move to Amsterdam
for good. He hired an apartment over a shop
on the Quay Bloemgracht; it is probable
that his sister went with him to keep his house,
and that it is her face repeated so frequently
in the many pictures which he painted at
that time. This does not suggest coarse doings
or a careless life, but permits us to imagine a
quiet, sober, unselfish existence for the young
bachelor at that time.</p> 

<p>Soon, however, he fell in love. He saw one
other woman to place in his heart and memory
beside his mother. His wife was Saskia van
Ulenburg, the daughter of an aristocrat,
refined and rich. He met her through her
cousin, an art dealer, who had ordered Rembrandt
to paint a portrait of his dainty cousin.
Rembrandt could have been nothing but what
was delightful and good, since he was loved
by so charming a girl as Saskia.</p> 

<p>He painted her sitting upon his knee, and
used her as model in many pictures. First,
last, and always he loved her tenderly.</p> 

<p>In one portrait she is dressed in "red and
gold-embroidered velvets"; the mantle she wore
he had brought from Leyden. In another 
<a name="256"></a>
picture she is at her toilet, having her hair
arranged; again she is painted in a great red
velvet hat, and then as a Jewish bride, wearing
pearls, and holding a shepherd's staff in her
hand. Again, Rembrandt painted himself as a
giant at the feet of a dainty woman, and in
every way his work showed his love for her. After
he married her, in June 1634, he painted the
picture, "Samson's Wedding," "Saskia, dainty
and serene, sitting like a princess in a circle of
her relatives, he himself appearing as a crude
plebeian, whose strange jokes frighten more than
they amuse the distinguished company. ...
The early years of his marriage were spent in
joy and revelry. Surrounded by calculating
business men who kept a tight grasp on their
money bags, he assumed the rôle of an artist
scattering money with a free hand; surrounded
by small townsmen most proper in demeanour,
he revealed himself as the bold lasquenet,
frightening them by his cavalier manners. He
brought together all manner of Oriental arms,
ancient fabrics, and gleaming jewellery; and his
house became one of the sights of Amsterdam."
His existence reads like a fairy tale.</p> 

<p>It is said that Saskia strutted about decked
in gold and diamonds, till her relatives "shook
their heads" in alarm and amazement at such
wild goings on.</p> 

<p>Before he married Saskia he had painted a
remarkable picture, named the "School of
Anatomy." It represents a great anatomist,
<a name="257"></a>
the friend of Rembrandt--Nicholaus Tulp,--and 
a group of physicians who were members
of the Guild of Surgeons of Amsterdam. It is
so wonderful a picture that even the dead
man, who is being used as a subject by the
anatomist, does not too greatly disturb us as
we look upon him. The thoughtful, interested
faces of the surgeons are so strong that we half
lose ourselves in their feeling, and forget to
start in repulsion at sight of the dead body.
A fine description of this painting can be found
in Sarah K. Bolton's book "Famous Artists"
and it includes the description given by another
excellent authority.</p> 

<p>The artist was twenty-six years old when he
painted the "School of Anatomy." This
picture is now at The Hague and two hundred
years after it was painted the Dutch Government
gave 30,000 florins for it.</p> 

<p>Rembrandt painted a good many "Samsons"
first and last--himself evidently being the
strong man; and the pictures beyond doubt
express his own mood and his idea of his relation
to things. After a little son was born to
the artist, he painted still another Samson--this 
time menacing his father-in-law but as the
artist had named his son after his father-in-law,--Rombertus--we 
cannot believe that there
was any menace in the heart of Rembrandt--Samson. 
Soon his son died, and Rembrandt
thought he should never again know happiness,
or that the world could hold a greater grief, 
<a name="258"></a>
but one day he was to learn otherwise. A
little girl was born to the artist, named
Cornelia, after Rembrandt's mother, and he
was again very happy.</p> 

<p>Meantime his brothers and sisters had died,
and there came some trouble over Rembrandt's
inheritance, but what angered him most of all,
was that Saskia's relatives said she "had
squandered her heritage in ornaments and
ostentation." This made Rembrandt wild
with rage, and he sued her slanderers, for he
himself had done the squandering, buying every
beautiful thing he could find or pay for, to
deck Saskia in, and he meant to go on doing so.</p> 

<p>At this time he painted a picture of "The
Feast of Ahasuerus" (or the "Wedding of
Samson") and he placed Saskia in the middle
of the table to represent Esther or Delilah as
the case might be, dressed in a way to
horrify her critical relatives, for she looked like
a veritable princess laden with gorgeous
jewels.</p> 

<p>One of his pictures he wished to have hung
in a strong light, for he said: "Pictures are
not made to be smelt. The odour of the colours
is unhealthy."</p> 

<p>The first baby girl died and on the birth
of another daughter she too was named Cornelia,
but that baby girl also died, and next
came a son, Titus, named for Saskia's sister,
Titia, and then Saskia died. Thus Rembrandt
knew the deepest sorrow of his life.</p> 

<p><a name="259"></a>
He painted her portrait once again from
memory, and that picture is quite unlike the
others for it is no longer full of glowing life,
but daintier, suggestive of a more spiritual life,
as if she were growing fragile.</p> 

<p>It is written that "from this time, while he
did much remarkable work, he seemed like a
man on a mountain top, looking on one side to
sweet meadows filled with flowers and sunlight,
and on the other to a desolate landscape over
which a clouded sun is setting." With Saskia
died the best of Rembrandt. He made only
one more portrait of himself--before this he
had made many; and in it he makes himself
appear a stern and fateful man. It was after
Saskia's death that he painted the "Night
Watch," or more properly, "The Sortie."</p> 

<p>Rembrandt's home, where he and Saskia
were so happy, is still to be seen on a quay
of the River Amstel. It is a house of brick and
cut stone, four stories high. The vestibule
used to have a flag-stone pavement covered
with fir-wood. There were also "black-cushioned,
Spanish chairs for those who wait,"
and all about were twenty-four busts and
paintings. There was an ante-chamber, very
large, with seven Spanish chairs covered with
green velvet, and a walnut table covered with
"a Tournay cloth"; there was a mirror with
an ebony frame, and near by a marble wine-cooler. 
Upon the wall of this <i>salon</i> were
thirty-nine pictures and most of them had 
<a name="260"></a>
beautiful frames. "There were religious
scenes, landscapes, architectural sketches,
works of Pinas, Brouwer, Lucas van Leyden,
and other Dutch masters; sixteen pictures by
Rembrandt; and costly paintings by Palma
Vecchio, Bassano, and Raphael."</p> 

<p>In the next room was a real art museum,
containing splendid pictures, an oaken press
and other things which suggest that this was
the workroom where Rembrandt's etchings
were made and printed.</p> 

<p>In the drawing-room was a huge mirror, a
great oaken table covered with a rich embroidered
cloth, "six chairs with blue coverings, a
bed with blue hangings, a cedar wardrobe, and a
chest of the same wood." The walls were
literally covered with pictures, among which
was a Raphael.</p> 

<p>Above was a sort of museum and Rembrandt's
studio. There was rare glass from
Venice, busts, sketches, paintings, cloths,
weapons, armour, plants, stuffed birds and
shells, fans, and books and globes. In short,
this was a most wonderful house and no other
interior can we reconstruct as we can this,
because no other such detailed inventory can
be found of a great man's effects as that from
which these notes are taken: a legal inventory
made in 1656, long after Saskia had died and
possibly at a time when Rembrandt wished to
close his doors forever and forget the scenes in
which he had been so happy.</p> 

<p><a name="261"></a>
Holland being truly a Protestant country,
its artists have given us no great Madonna
pictures, although they painted loving, happy
Dutch mothers and little babes, but on the
whole their subjects are quite different from
those of the painters of Italy, France, and
Spain.</p> 

<p>Rembrandt's studio was different from any
other. When he first began to work independently
and to have pupils, he fitted it up
with many little cells, properly lighted, so that
each student might work alone, as he knew
far better work could be done in that way. It
is said that his pictures of beggars would, by
themselves, fill a gallery. He had a kindly
sympathy for the poor and unfortunate, and
tramps knew this, so that they swarmed about
his studio doors, trying to get sittings.</p> 

<p>There is a story which doubtless had for its
germ a joke regarding the slowness of an errand
boy in a friend's household, but which at the
same time shows us how rapidly Rembrandt
worked. The artist had been carried off to
the country to lunch with his friend Jan Six,
and as they sat down at the table, Six discovered
there was no mustard. He sent his boy, Hans,
for it, and as the boy went out, Rembrandt
wagered that he could make an etching before
the boy got back. Six took the wager, and
the artist pulled a copper plate from his
pocket--he always carried one--and on its
waxed surface began to etch the landscape 
<a name="262"></a>
before him. Just as Hans returned, Rembrandt
gleefully handed Six the completed
picture.</p> 

<p>He was a great portrait painter, but he loved
certain effects of shadow so well that he often
sacrificed his subject's good looks to his artistic
purpose, and very naturally his sitters became
displeased, so that in time he had fewer
commissions than if he had been entirely
accommodating.</p> 

<p>His meals in working time were very simple,
often just bread and cheese, eaten while sitting
at his easel, and after Saskia died he became
more and more careless of all domestic details.</p> 

<p>Rembrandt finally married again, the
second time choosing his housekeeper, a good
and helpful woman, who was properly bringing
up his little son, and making life better ordered
for the artist, but he had grown poor by this
time for he was never a very good business man.
His beautiful house was at last sold to a rich
shoemaker. Every picture latterly reflected
his condition and mood. He chose subjects
in which he imagined himself always to be the
actor, and when his second wife died he painted
a picture of "Youth Surprised by Death";
he had not long to live. He became more and
more melancholy; and sleeping by day, would
wander about the country at night, disconsolate
and sad. Finally, when he died, an inventory
of his effects, showed him to be possessed of
only a few old woollen clothes and his brushes 
<a name="263"></a>
The miracle in Rembrandt's painting is the
deep, impenetrable shadow, in which nevertheless
one can see form and outline, punctuated
with wonderful explosions of light. Nothing
like it has ever been seen. It is the most
dramatic work in the world, and the most
powerful in its effect. Other men have painted
light and colour; Rembrandt makes gloom and
shadow living things.</p> 

<p>This miracle-worker's funeral cost ten
dollars; he died in Amsterdam and was buried
in the Wester Kirk.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE SORTIE</center>

<p>This picture is generally known as "The
Night Watch," but it is really "The Sortie"
of a company of musketeers under the command
of a standard bearer. Captain Frans Banning-Cock 
and all his company were to pay Rembrandt
for painting their portraits in a group
and in action, and they expected to see
themselves in heroic and picturesque dress, in
the full blaze of day, but Rembrandt had
found a magnificent subject for his wonderful
shadows, and the artist was not going to
sacrifice it to the vanity of the archers.</p> 

<p>This picture was called the "Patrouille de
Nuit," by the French and the "Night Watch,"
by Sir Joshua Reynolds because upon its
discovery the picture was so dimmed and
defaced by time that it was almost indistinguishable
<a name="264"></a>
and it looked quite like a
night scene. After it was cleaned up, it was
discovered to represent broad day--a party
of archers stepping from a gloomy courtyard
into the blinding sunlight. "How this
different light is painted, which encircles the
figures, here sunny, there gloomy!...
Rembrandt runs through the entire range of his
colours, from the lightest yellow through all
shades of light and dark red to the gloomiest
black." One writer describes it thus: "It
is more than a picture; it is a spectacle, and
an amazing one... A great crowd of
human figures, a great light, a great darkness--at 
the first glance this is what strikes you, and
for a moment you know not where to fix your
eyes in order to comprehend that grand and
splendid confusion... There are officers,
halberdiers, boys running, arquebusiers loading
and firing, youths beating drums, people bowing
talking, calling out, gesticulating--all dressed
in different costumes, with round hats, plumes,
casques, morions, iron corgets, linen collars,
doublets embroidered with gold, great boots,
stockings of all colours, arms of every form;
and all this tumultuous and glittering throng
start out from the dark background of the
picture and advance toward the spectator.
The two first personages are Frans Banning-Cock, 
Lord of Furmerland and Ilpendam,
captain of the company, and his lieutenant,
Willem van Ruijtenberg, Lord of Vlaardingen,
<a name="265"></a>
the two marching side by side. The
only figures that are in full light are this
lieutenant, dressed in a doublet of buffalo-hide,
with gold ornaments, scarf, gorget, and white
plume, with high boots, and a girl who comes
behind, with blond hair ornamented with
pearls, and a yellow satin dress; all the other
figures are in deep shadow, excepting the
heads, which are illuminated. By what
light? Here is the enigma. Is it the light of
the sun? or of the moon? or of the torches?
There are gleams of gold and silver, moonlight
coloured reflections, fiery lights; personages
which, like the girl with blond tresses, seem to
shine by a light of their own.... The
more you look at it, the more it is alive and
glowing; and, even seen only at a glance, it
remains forever in the memory, with all its
mystery and splendour, like a stupendous
vision." Charles Blanc has said: "To tell
the truth, this is only a dream of night, and
no one can decide what the light is that falls
on the groups of figures. It is neither the light
of the sun or of the moon, nor does it come
from the torches; it is rather the light from
the genius of Rembrandt."</p>

<p>This wonderful picture was painted in 1642
and many of the archer's guild who gave
Rembrandt the commission would not pay
their share because their faces were not plainly
seen. This picture which alone was enough
to make him immortal, was the very last 
<a name="266"></a>
commission that any of the guilds were willing
to give the artist, because he would not make
their portraits beautiful or fine looking to the
disadvantage of the whole picture. This work
hangs in the Rijks Museum in Amsterdam.
He painted more than six hundred and
twenty-five pictures and some of them are:
"The Anatomy Lesson," "The Syndics of the
Cloth Hall," "The Descent from the Cross,"
"Samson Threatening His Step Father," "The
Money Changer," "Holy Family," "The
Presentation of Christ in the Temple," "The
Marriage of Samson," "The Rape of Ganymede,"
"Susanna and the Elders," "Manoah's Sacrifice,"
"The Storm," "The Good Samaritan,"
"Pilate Washing His Hands," "Ecce Home,"
and pictures of his wife, Saskia.</p> 

<p><a name="267"></a></p>
<h1>XXXIV</h1>

<h1>SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS</h1>

<center><i>English School</i><br>
1723-1792<br>
<i>Pupil of Thomas Hudson</i></center>

<p>When Reynolds was "little Josh," instead
of "Sir Joshua" he grew tired in church
one day, and sketched upon the nail of his
thumb the portrait of the Rev. Mr. Smart who
was preaching. After service he ran to a boat-house
near, and with ship's paint, upon an old
piece of sail, he painted in full and flowing
colours that reverend gentleman's portrait.
After that there was not the least possible
excuse for his father to deny him the right to
become an artist.</p> 

<p>The father himself was a clergyman with a
good education, and he had meant that his son
should also be well educated and become a
physician; but a lad who at eight years of age
can draw the Plympton school house--he
was born at Plympton Earl, in Devonshire--has 
a right to choose his own profession.</p> 

<p>At twenty-three years of age Sir Joshua was
painting the portraits of great folk, and being
well paid for it, as well as lavishly praised.
His first real sorrow came at a Christmas
time when he was summoned home from 
<a name="268"></a>
London where he was working, to his father's
deathbed.</p> 

<p>After that the artist turned his thoughts
toward Italy, but where was the money to
come from? Earning a living did not include
travelling expenses, but a good friend, Captain
Keppel, was going out to treat with the Dey of
Algiers about his piracies, and learning that the
artist wished to go to Italy he invited him to go
with him on his own ship, the <i>Centurion.</i>
So while the captain was discussing pirates
with the dey, Sir Joshua stopped with the
Governor of Minorca and painted many of the
people of that locality. Thence on to Rome!</p> 

<p>Strange to say, Raphael's pictures disappointed
the English artist, and he said so;
but Michael Angelo was to Reynolds the most
wonderful of painters, and he said that his
pictures influenced him all the rest of his life.
He wished his name to be the last upon his
lips, and while that was not so, yet it was
the last he pronounced to his fellow Academicians
in his final address.</p> 

<p>It was in Italy that a distressing misfortune
came upon Sir Joshua. He meant to learn
all that a man could learn in a given time
of the art treasures there, and while he was
working in a draughty corridor of the Vatican,
he caught a severe cold which rendered him
deaf. He continued deaf till the end of his
life and had to use an ear-trumpet when people
talked with him.</p> 

<p><a name="269"></a>
When he got back to England, Hudson, his
old master, said discouragingly: "Reynolds,
you don't paint as well as when you left
England." On the whole his reception at
home, after his long absence, was not all that
he could have wished, but he took a place in
Leicester Square, settled down to live there for
the rest of his life, and went at painting in
earnest.</p> 

<p>Although artists criticised him more or less
after his return, the public appreciated him
and very soon orders for portraits began to
pour in upon him, and the flow of wealth never
ceased so long as he lived. It was said that all
the fashionables came to him that did not go to
Gainsborough, but those who were partial to
Sir Joshua declared that all who could not go
to him went to Gainsborough. The two great
artists controlled the art world in their time,
dividing honours about equally. It was said
that all those women and men sat to Sir Joshua
for portraits "who wished to be transmitted
as angels... and who wished to appear
as heroes or philosophers."</p> 

<p>Sir Joshua was a charming man, generous
in feeling--as Gainsborough was not--and
his closest friend was Dr. Johnson, the most
different man from the artist imaginable, but
Reynolds's art and Johnson's philosophy made
a fine combination, each giving the other great
pleasure. Besides Johnson, his friends were
Goldsmith, Garrick, Bishop Percy, and other 
<a name="270"></a>
famous men of the time. These and others
formed the "Literary Club" at Sir Joshua's
suggestion. About that time there was the
first public exhibition of the work of English
artists, and Sir Benjamin West and Sir Joshua
Reynolds built the Royal Academy for that
first exhibition, with the help of King George's
patronage. Joshua Reynolds was knighted
when he was made the first president of that
great body.</p> 

<p>Soon after the Academy was established,
Reynolds began a series of "discourses," which
in time became famous for their splendid
literary quality, and some people, knowing his
close friendship with Burke and Dr. Johnson,
declared that the artist got one of them to write
his "discourses" for him. This threw Johnson
and Burke into a fury of resentment for their
friend, and the doctor declared indignantly
that "Sir Joshua would as soon get me to
paint for him as to write for him!"
Burke denied the story no less emphatically.
Besides these speeches, which were a great
advantage to the members of the Academy,
Sir Joshua instituted the annual banquet to
the members, and King George--who just
before had given the commission of court
painter to one less talented than Sir Joshua--bade 
him paint his portrait and the queen's,
to hang in the Academy. This was a great
thing for the new society and advanced its
fortunes very much.</p> 

<p><a name="271"></a>
Barry and Gainsborough were both churlish
enough to envy Sir Joshua and to quarrel
with his good feeling for them, but both men
had the grace to be sorry for behaviour that
had no excuse, and both made friends with
him before they died--Gainsborough on his
death-bed.</p> 

<p>Toward his last days the artist was attacked
with paralysis, but grew better and was able
to paint again; then he began to go blind--he
was already deaf--and this affliction made
painting impossible. Shortly before his death,
he undertook to raise funds for a monument
to his dead friend, Dr. Johnson, but he grew
more and more ill, "and on the 23d February,
1792, this great artist and blameless gentleman
passed peacefully away."</p> 

<p>That he was very painstaking in his work is
shown by an anecdote about his infant
"Hercules." "How did you paint that part
of the picture?" some one asked him. "How
can I tell! There are ten pictures below this,
some better, some worse"--showing that in
his desire for perfection he painted and
repainted.</p> 

<p>So untiring was he in seeking out the secrets
of the old masters that he bought works of
Titian and Rubens, and scraped them, to learn
their methods, insisting that they had some
secret underlying their work. So anxious
was he to get the most brilliant effects of
colours that he mixed his paints with asphaltum, 
<a name="272"></a>
egg, varnish, wax, and the like, till one artist
said: "The wonder is that the picture did
not crack beneath the brush." Many of
these great pictures did go to pieces because of
the chances Sir Joshua took in mixing things
that did not belong together, in order to make
wonderful results.</p> 

<p>Sir George Beaumont recommended a friend
to go to Reynolds for his portrait and the
friend demurred, because "his colours fade
and his pictures die before the man."</p> 

<p>"Never mind that!" Sir George declared;
"a faded portrait by Reynolds is better than
a fresh one by anybody else."</p> 

<p>The same tender, sensitive and devoted
nature which caused Sir Joshua's mother to
weep herself blind upon her husband's death,
belonged to the artist. All of his life he was
surrounded by loving friends, and his devotion
to them was conspicuous. He, like Dürer and
several other painters, was a seventh son, and
his father's disappointment was keen when he
took to art instead of to medicine. So little
did his father realise what his future might be,
that he wrote under the sketch of a wall with a
window in it, drawn upon a Latin exercise
book: "This is drawn by Joshua in school,
out of pure idleness."</p> 

<p>But by the time Joshua was eight years old
and had drawn a fine "sketch of the grammar-school
with its cloister... the astonished
father said: 'Now, this exemplifies what the
<a name="273"></a>
author of "perspective" says in his preface:
"that, by observing the rules laid down in this
book, a man may do wonders"--for this is
wonderful.'"</p>

<p>Sir Joshua laid down--even wrote out--a
great many rules of conduct for himself.
Some of these were: "The great principle
of being happy in this world is not to mind or
be affected with small things." Also: "If
you take too much care of yourself, nature
will cease to take care of you."</p> 

<p>When Samuel Reynolds, Joshua's father,
consulted with his friend Mr. Craunch, as to
whether a boy who made wonderful paintings
at twelve years of age, would be likely to be a
successful apothecary, he told Craunch that
Joshua himself had declared that he would
rather be a good apothecary than a poor artist,
but if he could be bound to a good master of
painting he would prefer that above everything
in the world. This was how he came
to be apprenticed to Hudson, the painter.
Young Reynolds's sister paid for his instruction
at first--or for half of it, with the understanding
that Reynolds was to pay her back when he
was earning. At that time Reynolds wrote
to his father: "While I am doing this I am
the happiest creature alive."</p> 

<p>One day, while in an art store, buying something
for Hudson, Reynolds saw Alexander
Pope, the poet, come in, and every one bowed
to him and made way for him as if for a prince.
<a name="274"></a>
Pope shook hands with young Reynolds, and
in writing home, describing the poet, the
artist said that he was "about four feet six
inches high; very humpbacked and deformed.
He wore a black coat and according to the
fashion of that time, had on a little sword. He
had a large and very fine eye, and a long handsome
nose; his mouth had those peculiar
marks which are always found in the mouths of
crooked persons, and the muscles which run
across the cheeks were so strongly marked
that they seemed like small cords." This is a
masterly description of one famous man by
another.</p> 

<p>He finally was dismissed from his master's
studio on the ground that he had neglected to
carry a picture to its owner at the time set by
Hudson, but the fact was the older artist had
become jealous of the work of his pupil, and
would no longer have him in his studio.</p> 

<p>Afterwards, while he was painting down in
Devonshire--thirty portraits of country
squires for fifteen dollars apiece--he said:
"Those who are determined to excel must go
to their work whether willing or unwilling,
morning, noon, and night, and they will find
it to be no play, but, on the contrary, very
hard labour." This shows that Reynolds's idea
of genius was "an infinite capacity for hard
work."</p> 

<p>While Reynolds was on his memorable
journey to Rome, he made several volumes
<a name="275"></a>
of notes about the pictures of great Italian
artists--Raphael, Titian, etc. And one of
those volumes is in the Lenox Library, New
York City. He made a most characteristic
and delightful remark in regard to his disappointment
in Raphael's pictures. "I did not
for a moment conceive or suppose that the
name of Raphael, and those admirable paintings
in particular, owed their reputation to the
<i>ignorance</i> ... of mankind; on the
contrary, my not relishing them, as I was
conscious I ought to have done was one of the
most humiliating things that ever happened to
me."</p> 

<p>He loved home and country so much that
while in Venice he heard a familiar ballad sung
in an opera, and it brought the tears to his
eyes because of its association with "home."</p> 

<p>His young sister, was so undecided in her
ways and opinions as to make it impossible
for Reynolds long to live with her, but she
undertook to be his housekeeper when he
returned to London, and she also tried to copy
his pictures Reynolds said the results "made
other people laugh, but they made me cry."</p> 

<p>Reynolds painted the portraits of two Irish
sisters--the Countess of Coventry and the
Duchess of Hamilton--two of the most beautiful
women in all the British Empire.
"Seven hundred people sat up all night, in and
about a Yorkshire inn, to see the Duchess of
Hamilton get into her postchaise in the morning, 
<a name="276"></a>
while a Worcester shoemaker made money by
showing the shoe he was making for the Countess
of Coventry." Sir Joshua declared that
whenever a new sitter came to him, even till
the last years of his life, he always began his
portrait with the determination that that one
should be the best he had ever painted. Success
was bound to attend that sort of man.</p> 

<p>He painted every picture almost as an
experiment; meaning to learn something new
with every work, and he spent more than he
made in perfecting his art. As he said: "He
would be content to ruin himself" in order to
own one of the best works of Titian.</p> 

<p>His deeds of kindness are beyond counting.
He rescued his friend Dr. Johnson from debt--thereby 
saving him from prison; and when a
young lad, "a son of Dr. Mudge," who was
very anxious to visit his father on the occasion
of his sixteenth birthday, grew too ill to make
the journey. Reynolds said gaily: "No matter
my boy. <i>I</i> will send you to your father." He
painted a splendid portrait of the boy and sent
it to Dr. Mudge. This gift of a picture,
however, was very unusual with Reynolds,
who, unlike Gainsborough who gave his by
the bushel to everyone, declared that his
pictures were not valued unless paid for.
When Sir William Lowther, a gay and rich
young man of London, died, he left twenty-five
thousand dollars to each of thirteen friends,
and each of the thirteen commissioned the 
<a name="277"></a>
painter to make a portrait of Lowther, their
benefactor. His work room was of interest:
"The chair for his sitters was raised eighteen
inches from the floor, and turned on casters.
His palettes were those which are held by
a handle, not those held on the thumb. The
stocks of his pencils were long, measuring about
nineteen inches. He painted in that part of
the room nearest to the window, and never sat
down when he painted." The chariot in which
he drove about had the four seasons allegorically
painted upon its panels, and his liveries were
"laced with silver"; while the wheels of his
coach were carved with foliage and gilded.</p> 

<p>Sir Joshua knew that it paid to advertise,
and as he had no time to go about in that
gorgeous chariot he made his sister go, for he
declared that people seeing that magnificent
coach would ask: "Whose chariot is that?"
and upon being told could not fail to be impressed
with his prestige. The comical
inconsequence of this anecdote concerning a
man so important robs it of vulgarity.</p> 

<p>The graceful anecdotes told of Reynolds are
without number, but one and all are to his
advantage and show him to have been good and
gentle, a devoted and high-bred man.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE AND HER DAUGHTER</center>

<p>This is generally considered one of the finest
of Sir Joshua's pictures, if not the most 
<a name="278"></a>
beautiful of all. He was such a welcome guest
at the houses of grandees that perchance he had
noticed the lovely duchess playing with her
still more lovely baby, and thought what a
charming picture the two would make. As a
representation of the artist's ability to portray
grace and sweetness it can hardly be surpassed.
He painted it in 1786, half a dozen
years before his death, and it now hangs in
Chatsworth, the home of the present Duke of
Devonshire.</p> 

<p>Other well known Reynolds paintings are
"The Hon. Ann Bingham," "The Countess of
Spencer," the "Nieces of Sir Horace Walpole,"
and the "Angels' Heads" in the National
Gallery.</p> 

<p><a name="279"></a></p>
<h1>XXXV</h1>

<h1>PETER PAUL RUBENS.</h1>

<center><i>Flemish School</i><br>
1577-1640<br>
<i>Pupil of Tobias Verhaecht</i> </center>

<p>The story of Peter Paul Rubens, whose
birthday falling upon the saint days
of Peter and Paul gave to him his name, is
hardly more interesting than that of his parents,
although it is quite different. The story of
Rubens's parents seems a part of the artist's
story, because it must have had something to
do with influencing his life, so let us begin with
that.</p> 

<p>John Rubens was Peter Paul's father, and he
was a learned man, a druggist, but he had also
studied law, and had been town councillor and
alderman in the town where he was born.
Life went easily enough with him till the
reformation wrought by Martin Luther began
to change John Rubens's way of thinking, and
he turned from Catholic to Lutheran.</p> 

<p>From being a good Catholic John Rubens
became a rabid reformer; and when, under
the new faith, the Antwerp churches were
stripped of their treasures, the magistrates
were called to account for it. John Rubens,
as councillor, was among those summoned.
<a name="280"></a>
The magistrates declared that they were all
good Catholics, but a list of the reformers fell
into the Duke of Alva's hands and Rubens's
name was there. This meant death unless he
should succeed in flying from the country,
which he instantly did. That was in 1568,
when he had four children, but Peter Paul was
not one of them--since he was a seventh son.</p> 

<p>The Rubens family went to live in Cologne,
where the father found his learning of great
use to him, and he was honoured by being
made legal adviser to Anne of Saxony who
was William the Silent's second queen. John
Rubens's behaviour was not entirely honourable
and before long he was thrown into prison, but
his good wife, Maria Pypelincx undertook to
free him. He had treated her very badly,
but her devotion to his cause was as great as
if he had treated her well. Despite his wife's
efforts he was kept a prisoner in the dungeon
at Dillenburg for two years, and afterward
he was removed to Siegen, the place where
Peter Paul was born.</p> 

<p>In the sixteenth century there were no
records of any sort kept in the town of Siegen,
and so we cannot be absolutely sure that Peter
Paul was born there, but his mother was
certainly there just before and after the date
of his birth, which was the 29th of June
1577. After his birth, his father was set free
in Siegen and allowed to go back to the city
in which he had misbehaved himself. In 
<a name="281"></a>
Cologne he became once more a Catholic, and
he died in that faith. Meantime, ten years had
passed since Peter Paul's birth, and both his
father and mother were determined above
all things their son should have a fine education,
quite unlike other artists, for the boy seemed
capable of learning. While he was still very
small he could speak to his tutor in French, to
his mother in Flemish, and to his father in Latin.
Besides these languages he spoke also Italian
and English. Before he was an artist, Rubens,
like Dürer and Leonardo da Vinci, was a child
of rare intelligence. As a little chap he went
to Antwerp with his mother--this was after
his father's death--and in Belgium he took
for the first time the rôle of courtier, in which
he was to become so successful later in life.
The charming little fellow, dressed in velvet
and lace, took his place in the household of the
Countess of Lalaing, in Brussels.</p> 

<p>Very soon after entering that household,
Rubens was permitted by his mother to leave
it for the studio of the painter who was his
first master, though not the one who really
taught him much. Rubens did not stay there
long, but went instead to the studio of Adam
van Noort, an excellent painter of the time.
After that he studied under another artist,
who was both a scholar and a gentleman, Van
Veen, and with him Peter Paul was able to
speak in Latin and in his many other languages,
while learning to paint at the same time.</p> 

<p><a name="282"></a>
Thus we find Rubens's lot was always cast, not
among the rich, but among the intelligent, the
well bred, and the cultivated. This fact alone
would prepare us to anticipate pleasant things
for him and from him.</p> 

<p>In those days of guilds, there were many
rules and regulations. Van Noort, Rubens's
teacher, was dean of the painters' guild
and through his influence the guild recognised
Rubens as "master," which meant that he
was qualified to take pupils; thus he was pupil
and teacher at the same time.</p> 

<p>One is unable to think of Rubens as having
low tastes, as being morose, erratic, or anything
but a refined, gracious, and brilliant gentleman.
He began well, lived well, and ended well.</p> 

<p>None of his teachers really impressed their
style of art upon him. He was the model for
others. Rubens became nothing but Rubens,
but all the art world wished to become
"Rubenesque."</p> 

<p>Rubens went to Mantua to see the art of
Italy, and while there he met the Duke of
Mantua who was Vincenzo Gonzaga, the richest,
most powerful personage of that region and
time. The duke engaged Rubens to paint
the portraits of many beautiful women--just
the sort of commission that Rubens's pupil,
Van Dyck, would have loved; but Rubens's
art was of sterner stuff, and the work by no
means delighted him. He had great ideas,
profound purposes, and wished to undertake 
<a name="283"></a>
them, but just then it seemed best that he
perform that which the Duke of Mantua wanted
him to do; hence he set about it.</p> 

<p>Later Rubens went to the Spanish court,
not as a painter, but as a cavalier upon a
diplomatic mission. Bearing many beautiful
presents to King Philip III., he went to Madrid,
where his elegance, manly beauty, dashing
manner, and ability to speak several languages
made him a wonderful success. He remained
for three years at the court and studied the
methods of Spanish painters. He also painted
the members of the Spanish court, as Velasquez
had done, but they looked like people of
another world. The Spanish aristocracy had
always been painted with pallid faces, languid
and elegant poses; but Rubens gave them a
touch of the life he loved--made them robust
and apparently healthy-minded. Of all great
colourists, Rubens took the lead. Titian with
his golden hues and warm haired women was
very great, but Rubens, "the Fleming" as he
was called, revelled in richness of colouring,
and flamed through art like a glorious comet.</p> 

<p>Rubens had long been wanted in his own
country. His sovereigns, Albert and Isabella,
wished him to return and become their painter,
but they were unable to free him from his
engagements in Italy and Spain. At last Rubens
received word that his mother, whom he loved
devotedly, was likely to die, and what kings
could not do his love for her accomplished.</p> 

<p><a name="284"></a>
Although his patron, the Duke of Mantua, was
absent, and his consent could not be secured,
Rubens set off post-haste to his mother's home.
He arrived in Antwerp too late to see Maria
Pypelincx, who had died before he reached her.
Once more on his native soil, Albert and
Isabella determined to induce him to remain.
He had intended to go back to Mantua and
continue his work under the duke, but since
he was now in Belgium he decided to stay there,
and thus he became the court painter in his
own country, which after all he greatly preferred
to any other.</p> 

<p>He was to have a salary of five hundred
livres ($96) a year, also "the rights, honours,
privileges, exemptions, etc." that belonged to
those of the royal household; and he was given
a gold chain. In this day of large doings there
is something about such details that seems
childish, but a "gold chain" was by no means
a small affair at a time when $96 was
considered an ample money-provision for an
artist.</p> 

<p>That gorgeous gold chain, a mark of distinction
rather than a reward, is to be seen in all its
glory in one of Rubens's great paintings. The
artist himself is mounted upon a horse, the
chain about his neck, while he is surrounded by
"no fewer than eight-and-twenty life-size
figures, many in gorgeous attire, warriors in
steel armour, horsemen, slaves, camels, etc."
This picture, "The Adoration of the Magi," was 
<a name="285"></a>
twelve feet by seventeen, and was painted at
the town's expense. It was later sent to Spain
and placed in the Madrid Gallery.</p> 

<p>One of the greatest honours that could come
to students of that day, was to be admitted
to Rubens's studio to paint under his direction,
and it is said that "hundreds of young men
waited their turn, painting meanwhile in the
studios of inferior artists, till they should be
admitted to the studio of the great master."</p> 

<p>Rubens was a king among painters, as well
as a painter patronised by kings.</p> 

<p>He had two wives, and he married the first
one in 1609. Her name was Isabella Brant.
Sir Joshua Reynolds said of her: "His wife is
very handsome and has an agreeable countenance,
but the picture is rather hard in manner"--by 
which he meant a picture which Rubens
had painted of her. One of his greatest
privileges when he was engaged at the court of
Albert and Isabella, had been that he need
obey none of the exactions of the Guild of St.
Luke, none of their rigid rules concerning the
employment of art students. Rubens could
take into his service whom he pleased, whether
they had been admitted as members of the
guild or not, though to be a member of the
guild was a testimony to their qualifications.
In the end, this did a good deal of harm, for
Rubens employed students to do the preliminary
work of his pictures, who had not been
his pupils and who were not otherwise qualified. 
<a name="286"></a>
Thus we read criticisms like that of Sir Joshua's;
and many of Rubens's pictures are marred
in this manner.</p> 

<p>A story is told of Van Dyck and other pupils
of Rubens breaking into the master's studio
and smudging a picture which Van Dyck
afterward repaired by painting in the damaged
portion most successfully. We are also told
in connection with Rubens's picture, "The
Descent from the Cross," that Van Dyck
restored an arm and shoulder of Mary of
Magdala, but certainly Van Dyck did not
become a pupil of Rubens till some time after
that picture was painted.</p> 

<p>The work of a wonderful period in Rubens's
art was completely destroyed. In two years
time he painted forty ceilings of churches in
Antwerp, all of which were burned, but there
is a record of them in the copies made by De
Witt, in water colours from which etchings were
afterward made. This work of Rubens was
the first example of foreshortening done by a
Flemish painter.</p> 

<p>Above all things Rubens liked to paint big
pictures, on very large surfaces, as did Michael
Angelo. "The large size of picture gives us
painters more courage to present our ideas
with the utmost freedom and semblance of
reality. ... I confess myself to be, by
a natural instinct, better fitted to execute
works of the largest size." He wrote this to
the English diplomat Trumbull in 1621.</p> 

<p><a name="287"></a>
In the midst of Rubens's greatest success as a
painter came his diplomatic services. It was
desirable that Spain and England should be
friends, and Rubens always moving about
because of his work, and being so very clever,
the Spanish powers thought him a good one to
negotiate with England. While on a professional
visit to Paris, the English Duke of
Buckingham and the artist met, and this
seemed to open a way for business. The
Infanta consented to have Rubens undertake
this delicate piece of statesmanship, but
Philip of Spain did not like the idea of an artist--a 
wandering fellow, as an artist was then
thought to be--entering into such a dignified
affair. The real negotiator on the English
side, was Gerbier, by birth also a Fleming, and
strange to tell, he too had been an artist.
The English engaged him to look after their
interests in the affair, and as soon as Philip
learned that their diplomat was also an artist,
his prejudices against Rubens as a statesman,
disappeared. So it was decided that the two
Flemings, artists and diplomats, should meet
in Holland to discuss matters. About that
time Sir Dudley Carleton wrote to Lord
Conway: "Rubens is come hither to Holland,
where he now is, and Gerbier in his company,
walking from town to town, upon their pretence
of taking pictures, which may serve him for
a few days if he dispatch and be gone; but yf
he entertayne tyme here long, he will infallibly 
<a name="288"></a>
be layd hold of, or sent with disgrace out of
the country ... this I have made known
to Rubens lest he should meet with a skorne
what may in some sort reflect upon others."</p>

<p>The two clever men got through with their
talk, nothing unfortunate happened, and
Rubens got off to Spain where he laid the result
of his talk with Gerbier before the Spanish
powers. He was given a studio in Philip's
palace, where he carried on his art and his
diplomacy. The king became delighted with
him as a man and an artist, and as well as
attending to state business, he did some
wonderful painting while in Madrid. He was
there nine months or more, and then started
off for England to tell Charles I. of Philip III.'s
wishes. But upon his arrival he learned that
a peace had just been concluded between France
and England, and all was excitement.</p> 

<p>He was received in England as a great artist;
every honour was showered upon him, and
when he made Philip's request to Charles,
that he should not act in a manner hostile to
Spain, Charles agreed, and kept that agreement
though France and Venice urged him to
break it.</p> 

<p>Charles knighted Rubens while he was in
England, and the University of Cambridge
made him Master of Arts. The sword used by
the king at the time he gave the accolade is
still kept by Rubens's descendants.</p> 

<p>While he was in London Rubens was very 
<a name="289"></a>
nearly drowned in the Thames going down to
Greenwich in a boat.</p> 

<p>When he first went from Italy to Spain on a
mission of state, he carried a note or passport
bearing the following lines: "With these
presents" (he took magnificent gifts to Philip,
among them a carriage and six Neapolitan
horses) "comes Peter Paul, a Fleming. Peter
Paul will say all that is proper, like the well
informed man that he is. Peter Paul is very
successful in painting portraits. If any ladies
of quality wish their pictures, let them take
advantage of his presence." When he visited
England there was no longer need of such
introduction; he went in all the magnificence
that his genius had earned for him.</p> 

<p>Rubens was always a happy man, so far as
history shows. He married the first time,
a woman who was beautiful and who loved
him, as he loved her. He was able to build
for himself a beautiful house in Antwerp. In
the middle of it was a great <i>salon</i>, big enough
to hold all his collection of pictures, vases,
bronzes, and beautiful jewels. There was also
a magnificent staircase, up which his largest
pictures could be easily carried, for it was built
especially to accommodate the requirements
of his work.</p> 

<p>Rubens's greatest picture was painted through
a strange happening when this beautiful house
was being built. The land next to his belonged
to the Archers' Guild and when the workmen 
<a name="290"></a>
came to dig Rubens's cellar, they went too far
and invaded the adjoining property. The
archers made complaint, and there seemed no
way to adjust the matter, till some one suggested
that Rubens make them a picture which
should be accepted as compensation for the
harm done. This Rubens did, and the picture
was to be St. Christopher--the archers'
patron saint; but when the work was done
"Rubens surprised them" by exhibiting a
picture "of all who could ever have been
called 'Christ-bearers.'" This was "The
Descent from the Cross"--not a single picture
but a picture within a picture, for there were
shutters folding in front of it, and on these
was painted the archers' patron, St. Christopher.</p> 

<p>Rubens's daily life is described thus: "His
life was very methodical. He rose at four,
attended mass, breakfasted, and painted for
hours; then he rested, dined, worked until
late afternoon; then, after riding for an hour
or two one of his spirited horses, and later
supping, he would spend the evening with his
friends.</p> 

<p>"He was fond of books, and often a friend
would read aloud to him while he worked."
This is a pleasant picture of a reasonable and
worthy life.</p> 

<p>It is said that once he painted eighteen
pictures in eighteen days, and it is known
that he valued his time at fifty dollars a day.</p> 

<p>His pupil, Van Dyck, being pushed for 
<a name="291"></a>
money, turned alchemist and tried to manufacture 
gold, but when Rubens was approached
by a visionary who wanted him to lend him
money by which he might pursue such a work,
promising Rubens a fortune when he should
have discovered how to make his gold, the
artist laughed and said: "You are twenty
years too late, friend. When I wield these,"
indicating his palette and brush, "I turn all
to gold."</p> 

<p>Many are the delightful anecdotes told of
Rubens. It is said that while he was at the
English court he was painting the ceiling of
the king's banqueting hall, and a courtier
who stood watching, wished to say something
<i>pour passer le temps</i>, so he asked: "Does the
ambassador of his Catholic Majesty sometimes
amuse himself with painting?"</p> 

<p>"No--but he sometimes amuses himself
with being an ambassador," was the witty
retort, which showed how he valued his two
commissions.</p> 

<p>When King Charles I. knighted Rubens
he gave him, beside the jewelled sword, a
golden chain to which his miniature was attached.
If Rubens had gone about with all
the chains and decorations given him by kings
and other great ones of the earth he would
have been weighted down, and would have
needed two pairs of shoulders on which to
display them.</p> 

<p>Rubens's first wife died; and when he 
<a name="292"></a>
married again, he was as fond of painting
pictures of the second wife as he had been of
the first. The name of the second was Helena
Fourment, and she is called by one author
"a spicy blonde." Certainly she was very gay,
big, and robust, and only sixteen years old
when she married Rubens who was then a man
of fifty-three. Of one picture, "The Straw
Hat," for which he is supposed to have used
his wife's sister as model, he was so fond that
he would not sell it at any price.</p> 

<p>Rubens had a rare mother, as shown in her
letters to her husband, John, when he was
in prison for his wrongdoing. It would seem
that such a mother must have a strong,
forceful son, and Rubens is less of a surprise
than many artists who had no such influence
in their childhood. The history of Rubens's
mother is worthy of being told even had she
not had a famous son who painted a beautiful
picture of her.</p> 

<p>Rubens's "Holy Families" are like those of
no other painter. The Virgin, the Child, all
the others in the picture, are quite different
from the Italian figures. These are human
beings, good to look upon; full of love and joy,
softness and beauty.</p> 

<p>It was his learning that first won favour
for him in Italy. The Duke of Mantua hearing
him read from Virgil, spoke to him in Latin,
and being answered in that tongue was so
charmed that the foundation of their friendship
<a name="293"></a>
and the duke's patronage was laid. In
Italy he was called "the antiquary and Apelles
of our time."</p> 

<p>His nephew-biographer writes of him: "He
never gave himself the pastime of going to
parties where there was drinking and card-playing,
having always had a dislike for such."</p> 

<p>As Rubens grew in fame, he found that many
were jealous of him, and on one occasion a rival
proposed that he and Rubens each paint a
picture upon a certain subject and leave it to
judges to decide which work was the best--Rubens's 
or his own.</p> 

<p>"No," said Rubens. "My attempts have
been subjected to the scrutiny of connoisseurs
in Italy and Spain. They are to be found in
public collections and private galleries in those
countries; gentlemen are at liberty to place
their works beside them, in order that comparison
may be made." This was a dignified
way of disposing of the case.</p> 

<p>Rubens loved to paint animals, and he had a
great lion brought to his home, that he might
study its poses and movements.</p> 

<p>The flesh of his figures was so lifelike that
Guido declared he must mix blood with his
paints. He was called "the painter of life."</p> 

<p>Rubens, a seventh child, had also seven
children, two belonging to his first wife, five to
the second.</p> 

<p>Many stories are told of his patience and his
kindness. It is said that at one time his old 
<a name="294"></a>
pupil, Van Dyck, returned to Antwerp after an
absence, greatly depressed and in need of
money. Rubens bought all his unsold pictures,
and he did this charitable act more than once,
and is known to have done the same thing
for a rival and enemy, out of sheer goodness
of heart.</p> 

<p>Kings and queens came to the Rubens
house, people of many nations did him honour;
and toward his closing days, when gout had
disabled him, ambassadors visited him, since
he could not go to them.</p> 

<p>In a description of his death and burial which
took place at Antwerp we read: "He was buried
at night as was the custom, a great concourse
of citizens ... and sixty orphan children
with torches followed the body." He was
placed in the vault of the Fourment family,
and as he had requested, "The Holy Family"
was hung above him. In that picture, we find
the St. George to be Rubens himself; St.
Jerome, his father; an angel, his youngest son,
while Martha and Mary are Isabella and
Helena, his two wives.</p> 

<p>He left many sketches "to whichever of his
sons became an artist, or to the husband of
his daughter who should marry an artist."
But there were none such to claim the bequest.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE INFANT JESUS AND ST. JOHN</center>

<p>The little girl behind Jesus is supposed
to represent his future bride, the Christian 
<a name="295"></a>
Church. The thoughtful, far-seeing look upon
the face of the Christ-child, though it does
not clash with His youthful charm, is meant
to suggest that He has a premonition of His
work in the world. The other joyous little
figures also demonstrate the artist's love for
children. He brings them into his pictures, as
cherubs, wherever he can, and they are frequently
just as well painted and more universally
appreciated than his stout women.
In this picture he has a good opportunity
to show his adorable flesh tints, combined
with the movement and freedom naturally
associated with child life.</p> 

<p>The original painting is in the Court Museum
at Vienna, but it has always been so popular
that many copies of it have been made, and
one of these is in the Berlin Gallery.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE ARTIST'S TWO SONS<br>
<i>(See Frontispiece</i>)</center>

<p>This picture hangs in the Lichtenstein
Gallery at Vienna; the two boys, eleven and
seven years of age, are the sons of Rubens
by his first wife, Isabella Brant; and Albert,
the elder of the two, greatly resembles his
mother. He is evidently a student, for he
wears the dress of one and carries a book in
one hand. The other is placed affectionately
upon the shoulder of his little brother, Nicolas,
whose face, figure, and attire are all much the
more childish of the two.</p> 

<p><a name="296"></a>
Critics consider this painting to mark the
Highest point which Rubens reached in portraiture.
It has all the colour, character, and
vitality of his best work. Some of his other pictures
are: "Coronation of Marie de Medicis,"
"The Kirmesse," "Slaughter of the Innocents,"
"Susanna's Bath," "Capture of Samson," "A
Lion Hunt" and "The Rape of the Daughters
of Leucippus."</p> 

<p><a name="297"></a></p>
<h1>XXXVI</h1>

<h1>JOHN SINGER SARGENT</h1>

<center><i>American and Foreign Schools</i><br>
1856-1926<br>
<i>Pupil of Carolus Durand</i></center>

<p>This artist was born in Europe, of American
parents; thus we may say that he was
"American," though he owed nothing but
dollars to the United States, since his instruction
was obtained in Italy and France, and all
his associations in art and friendship were
there. He was probably the most brilliant of
the artists termed American. His great mural
work in the Boston Public Library, is hardly
to be surpassed.</p> 

<p>Above all, Sargent's portraits are masterly.
He was famous in that branch of art before he
was twenty-eight years old. Among his finest
portraits is that of "Carmencita," a Spanish
dancer, who for a time set the world wild with
pleasure. The list of his famous portraits is
very long.</p> 

<p>Sargent's father was a Philadelphia physician;
who originally came from New England, but
the artist himself was born in Florence. He
was given a good education and grew up with
the beauties of Florence all about him, in a
refined and charming home. He was the 
<a name="298"></a>
delight of his master, Carolus Durand for he
was modest and refined, yet full of enthusiasm
and energy. In his twenty-third year he
painted a fine picture of his master. Sargent
was a musician as well as a painter; a man of
great versatility, as if the gods and all the
muses had presided at his birth.</p> 

<center>PLATE--CARMENCITA</center>

<p>In this picture of the famous Spanish dancer
Sargent shows all the life and character he can
put into a portrait. The girl seems on the
point of springing into motion. She is poised,
ready for flight and the proud lift of her head
makes one believe that she will accomplish
the most difficult steps she attempts. The
painting is in the Luxembourg, Paris.</p> 

<p>Other noted Sargent portraits are "Mr. Marquand" 
in the Metropolitan Museum of Art,
"Lady Elcho, Mrs. Arden, Mrs. Tennant," "Mrs.
Meyer and Children," "Homer St. Gaudens,"
"Henschel," and "Mr. Penrose."</p>

<p><a name="299"></a></p>
<h1>XXXVII</h1>

<h1>TINTORETTO (JACOPO ROBUSTI)</h1>

<center><i>Venetian School</i><br>
1518-1594<br>
<i>Pupil of Titian</i></center>

<p>Tintoretto was born with an ideal.
As a young boy he wrote upon his
studio wall: "The drawing of Michael Angelo,
the colouring of Titian," and that was the end
he tried to reach. His father was a "tintore"--a 
dyer of silk, a tinter--and it was from
the character of that work the artist took his
name. He helped his father with the dyeing
of silks, while he was still a child, and was
called "II tintoretto," little dyer.</p> 

<p>As the little tinter showed great genius for
painting, his father placed him in Titian's
studio, but for some reason he only stayed there
a few days, long enough, however, to permit us
to call him a pupil of Titian; especially as he
wrote that master's name upon his wall and
determined to imitate him. After his few days
with Titian, Tintoretto studied with Schiavone
and afterward set up a studio for himself.</p> 

<p>As a determined lad in this studio of his, 
Tintoretto tried every means of developing his 
art. He studied the figures upon Medicean 
tombs made by Michael Angelo, taking plaster 
<a name="300"></a>
casts of them and copying them in his studio.
He used to hang little clay figures up by strings
attached to his ceiling, that he might get the
effect of them high in air. By looking at them
thus from below he gained an idea of foreshortening.</p>

<p>Although this artist nearly succeeded in
getting into line with Michael Angelo, he did
not colour after the fashion of his master,
Titian. Tintoretto was about twenty-eight
years old before he got any very big commission,
but at that age a chance came to him. In the
church of Santa Maria del Orto were two great
bare spaces, unsightly and vast, about fifty
feet high and twenty broad. In that day
anything and everything was decorated with
masterpieces, and it was almost disgraceful
for a church to let such a space as that go
unfrescoed. Tintoretto saw an opportunity,
and finally offered to paint pictures there for
nothing if the church would agree to pay for
the materials he needed. The church certainly
was not going to refuse such an offer, even if
Tintoretto was not thought to be much of an
artist at the time. If the work was poor, one
day they could choose to have it repainted.
Thus Tintoretto got his first great opportunity.
He painted on those walls "The Last Judgment"
and "The Golden Calf." They made him famous,
and gained him the commission to paint the
picture which is used as an illustration here.</p> 

<p>The brothers of the Scuola di San Rocco 
<a name="301"></a>
asked him to compete with Veronese, in
painting the ceilings after he had done four
pictures for their walls.</p> 

<p>Tintoretto consented, and Veronese and two
others who were in the competition set about
making their sketches which they were to
present for the brothers' consideration.
Finaly the day of decision came. All were
assembled, the artists armed with sketches of
their plans.</p> 

<p>"Where are yours, Tintoretto?" the others
asked. "We expect a drawing of your idea."</p> 

<p>"Well, there it is," the artist answered,
drawing a screen from the ceiling. Behold!
he had already painted it to suit himself. The
work was complete.</p> 

<p>"That is the way I make my sketches," he
said.</p> 

<p>Though the work was magnificent it had not
been done according to the monks' ideas of business
and order. They objected and objected.</p> 

<p>"Very well," the artist cried; "I will make
the ceiling a present to you." As there was
a rule of their order forbidding them to refuse a
present, they had to accept Tintoretto's. This
did not promise very good business at the
time, but the work was so splendid and
Tintoretto so reasonable that they finally
agreed to give him all the work of their order--nearly 
enough to keep him employed during
a lifetime. After that he painted sixty great
pictures upon their walls.</p> 

<p><a name="302"></a>
He painted so much and so fast that he did
not always do good work, and one critic
declares that "while Tintoretto was the equal
of Titian, he was often inferior to Tintoretto"--which 
after all is a very fine compliment.</p> 

<p>His life was so tranquil and uneventful that
there is little to say of it; but there is much to
say of his art. He lived mostly in his studio,
and when he died he was buried in the Santa
Maria del Orto--the church in which he had
done his first work.</p> 

<p>Veronese had given to Venice a brilliant,
glowing, rich, ravishing riot of colour and
figures, but Tintoretto was said to rise up
"against the joyful Veronese as the black
knight of the Middle Ages, the sombre priest of
a gloomy art." Tintoretto was of stormy
temperament, and upon one occasion he proved
it by thrusting a pistol under a critic's nose,
after he had invited him to his studio; it is this
half savage spirit that may be seen in his
paintings. He had deep-set, staring eyes, it
is said, a furrowed brow and hollow cheeks,
indicative of his passionate spirit. He painted
very few female figures, but mostly men.
When he did paint a woman, she looked
mannish and not beautiful. When he painted
gorgeous subjects, like doges and senators,
he gave to them gloomy backgrounds, awe-inspiring
poses, and he seldom painted a figure
"full-face" but three-quarter, or half, so that
he did not give himself a chance to present 
<a name="303"></a>
human figures in beautiful postures. He is
said to have been the first who painted groups
of well-known men in pictures intended for the
decoration of public buildings. One great
critic has written that "while the Dutch, in
order to unite figures, represented them at a
banquet, Tintoretto's <i>nobili</i> (aristocrats) were
far too proud to show themselves to the people"
in so gay and informal a situation. With
the coming of Tintoretto it was said "a dark
cloud had overcast the bright heaven of
Venetian art. Instead of smiling women,
bloody martyrs and pale ascetics" were painted
by him. He dissected the dead in order to
learn the structure of the human body. In
his paintings "his women, especially, with their
pale livid features and encircled eyes, strangely
sparkling as if from black depths, have nothing
in common with the soft" painted flesh which
he pictured in his youth while he was following
Titian as closely as he could. As he grew
older and his art more fixed, he followed
Michael Angelo more and more. Titian's
colouring was that of "an autumn day" but
Tintoretto's that of a "dismal night." Yet
these very qualities in Tintoretto's work made
him great.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE MIRACLE OF ST. MARK</center>

<p>This painting in the Academy at Venice tells
the story of how a Christian slave who belonged 
<a name="304"></a>
to a pagan nobleman went to worship at the
shrine of St. Mark. That was unlawful.
The nobleman had his slave taken before the
judge, who ordered him to be tortured. Just
as the executioner raised the hammer with
which he was finally to kill the slave, St. Mark
himself came down from heaven, broke the
weapon and rescued the slave.</p> 

<p>The figure of the patron saint of Venice is
swooping down, head first, above the group, his
garments flying in the air. A bright light
touches the slave's naked body, as he lies upon
his back, the executioner having turned away
and raised his hammer aloft, while others
have drawn back in fright at the appearance
of the patron saint. We may imagine that
Tintoretto was trying to acquire this power of
painting wonderful figures hovering in the air
when he hung his little clay images from the
ceiling of his studio years before. Other
pictures of his are: "The Marriage of Bacchus
and Ariadne," "Martyrdom of St. Agnes," "St.
Rocco Healing the Sick," "The Annunciation,"
"The Crucifixion," and many others.</p> 

<p><a name="305"></a></p>
<h1>XXXVIII</h1>

<h1>TITIAN (TIZIANO VECELLI)</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Tit-zee-ah'no (Vay-chel'lee))<br>
<i>Venetian School</i><br>
1477-1576<br>
<i>Pupil of Giovanni and Gentile Bellini</i></center>

<p>Titian was a child of the Tirol Mountains,
handsome, strong, full of health and
fine purposes, even as a boy. He was born in
a little cottage at Pieve, in the valley of
Cadore, through which flows the River Piave;
and he wandered daily beside its banks,
gathering flowers from which he squeezed the
juices to paint with. When he grew up he
became a wonderful colourist, and from his
boyhood nothing so much delighted him as the
brilliant colours flaunted by the flowers of wood
and field.</p> 

<p>Gathered about his good father's hearth were
many children, Caterina, Francesco, Orsa, and
the rest, living in peace and happiness, closely
bound together by love. Titian had a gentle,
loving mother named Lucia, while his father
was a soldier and an honoured man. In the
little town where they lived, he was councillor
and also superintendent of the castle and
inspector of mines, no light honours among
those simple country people. Doubtless 
<a name="306"></a>
Titian inherited his splendid bearing and his
determined character from his soldier father.</p>

<p>Even while a little child, the man who was
destined to become a great artist began his
work with the juices of the wild-flowers,
which he daubed upon the wall of the humble
home in the Tirol valley, making a Madonna
with angels at her feet and a little Jesus upon
her knee. But if Titian was a great painter,
he was never even a fair scholar. He went to
school, but would not, or could not, study.
His father soon saw that he was wasting his
time and being made very unhappy through
being forced to do that for which he had no
ability; so he was soon released from book-learning
and sent to Venice, seventy-five miles
from home, to learn art. In Venice, the
Vecelli family had an uncle, and it was with
him that Titian lived, though he studied first
with Sebastian Zuccato, the head of the Venetian
guild of mosaic workers, and a pretty
good teacher in his way. He was not able to
teach Titian very much, for the boy was an
inspired artist and needed a good master; so,
after a little, the family held a consultation
and it was decided that Titian should become
the pupil of Gentile Bellini, a very clever artist
indeed. There was an interesting story told
about this master which made the Vecellis
feel that their boy would do well to be under
the influence of a kind-hearted man, as well as a
genius. It seems that Bellini's fame had 
<a name="307"></a>
become so great that the Sultan had sent for him
to paint the portraits of himself and the
Sultana. Bellini went gladly to Turkey to do
this; but he took with him certain pictures
to show his patron. Among them was one of
St. John the Baptist having his head cut off.
The Sultan looked at it, and cutting heads off
being a large part of his business, he saw that
Bellini had not scientifically painted it, and in
order to show him the true way to conduct
such matters, he sent for a slave and ordered
his head chopped off in Bellini's presence.
Bellini was so terrified and sickened by the
dreadful sight that he fled from Turkey and
would not paint its ruler, the Sultana nor anyone
else who had to do with such cruel things
as he had witnessed.</p> 

<p>It was into this man's studio that Titian
went as a young boy, but after a little he
displeased Gentile Bellini, who complained
that his pupil worked too fast, and therefore
could not expect to do great work. He
declared that picture painting was serious and
careful work, and that Titian was too careless
and quick. As a matter of fact, Titian was
too wonderful for Bellini ever to do much for;
and since he could not get on with him, he
went to another master--Gentile Bellini's
brother, Giovanni. One of Titian's chief
troubles in the studio of Gentile had been that
he was not allowed to use the gorgeous colouring
he loved, but in the brother's studio he found 
<a name="308"></a>
to his joy that colour was more valued, and he
was given more freedom to use it. Also there
was a young peasant pupil with Giovanni,
who, like Titian, loved to use beautiful colours,
and he and the newcomer became fast friends.</p>

<p>The other artist's name was Giorgione, and
he had the most delightful ways about him,
winning friends wherever he went, so it was
no wonder that the warm-hearted Titian sought
his companionship. One day those two young
comrades left their master's studio, to have a
good time off by themselves. There was a
stated hour for their return; but they had
spent all their money, and forgot that Giovanni
Bellini was expecting them home. When
they did return the door was closed and locked.
What were they to do? They did the only
thing they could. As comrades in misfortune
they joined forces, set up a studio of their
own, and went to work to earn their living
as best they might. At first it was hard
sledding, but in time they got a good job,
namely to decorate the walls of a public building
in Venice which was used by foreign merchants
for the transaction of their business, a sort of
"exchange," as we understand it. This was
the Fondaco de' Tedeschi, and it had two great
halls, eighty rooms, and twenty-six warehouses.
It was indeed a big undertaking for the two
young men, and they divided the business
between them. Their joy was great, their
cartoons successfully made and the work well 
<a name="309"></a>
begun, when, alas, they fell to quarreling simply
because someone had declared that Titian's
work upon the building was a little better than
Giorgione's.</p> 

<p>This dispute parted the two friends, who
had had good times together, and it must have
been Giorgione's fault, because Ludovico Dolce,
one who knew Titian well, said that "he was
most modest ... he never spoke reproachfully
of other painters ... in his
discourse he was ever ready to give honour
where honour was due ... he was, moreover,
an eloquent speaker, having an excellent
wit and perfect judgment in all things; of a
most sweet and gentle nature, affable and most
courteous in manner; so that whoever once
conversed with him could not choose but love
him henceforth forever." That is a most
loving and splendid tribute for one man to pay
another. Not long after Giorgione died, and
Titian took up his unfinished work, doing it
as well as his own.</p> 

<p>There was a brilliant and mature artist called
Palma Vecchio, in Venice, and Titian painted
in his studio, where he saw and loved Vecchio's
daughter, Violante. The young artist was not
very well off financially, and therefore could
not marry; hence he was not specially happy
over his love affair. About that time he took
to painting after the manner of Vecchio,
through being so much influenced by his soft
feelings for the older artist's daughter. He 
<a name="310"></a>
used the lovely Violante again and again for
his model, and many of the beautiful faces
which Titian painted at that time show the
features of his lady-love. With his new love
Titian's serious work seemed to begin, and at
twenty-one he painted his first truly great
picture, "Sacred and Profane Love." To
day this picture hangs upon the walls of the
Borghese Palace, in Rome.</p> 

<p>Raphael painted a great many pictures, but
Titian must have painted more. At least one
thousand have his signature.</p> 

<p>Now came wars and troubles for Venice.
The Turks, French, and Venetians became at
odds, and during the strife many fine works of
art were lost, among them many of Titian's
pictures. He had painted bishops, also the
wicked Borgias, and many other great personages,
but all of these are gone and to this day,
no one knows what became of them.</p> 

<p>At last Titian began one of his greatest
paintings, "The Tribute Money," and he set
about it because he had been criticised. Some
German travellers in Venice visited Titian's
studio, and though they found his work very
fine, one of them said that after all there was
only one master able to finish a painting as it
should be finished, and that was the great
Dürer. The German pointed out the differences
between Titian's method and Dürer's,
and declared that Venetian painters never
quite came up to the promise of their first 
<a name="311"></a>
pictures. Dürer's wonderful pictures were quite
different from Titian's, inasmuch as his work
was fuller of detail and careful finishing, but
Titian was as great in another way. His
effects were broader, but quite as satisfying.
However, the German criticism put him on
his mettle, and he answered that if he had
thought the greatest value of a painting lay in
its fiddling little details of finishing, he too
would have painted them. To show that he
could paint after Dürer's fashion, as well as
his own, he undertook the "Tribute Money,"
and the result was a wonderful picture.</p> 

<p>Soon Rome sent for Titian. The Florentines,
Raphael and Michael Angelo, were already
there doing marvellous things, but the pope
wished to add the genius of Titian to theirs
and made him a great offer to go and live in
Rome and do his future work for that city.
This was an honour, but amid all his fame
and the homage paid him, Titian had remembered
the old home in the vale of Cadore.
It was there his heart was, and he determined
to return to the home of his boyhood to do his
best work. So he sent his thanks and refusal
to the pope, and he wrote as follows to his
home folks, through the council of his town:</p> 

<p>"I, Titian of Cadore, having studied painting
from childhood upward, and desirous of fame
rather than profit, wish to serve the doge and
signorini, rather than his highness the pope
and other signori, who in past days, and even 
<a name="312"></a>
now, have urgently asked to employ me. I
am therefore anxious, if it should appear
feasible to paint the hall of council, beginning,
if it pleases their sublimity, with the canvas
of the battle on the side toward the Piazza,
which is so difficult that no one as yet has had
the courage to attempt it."</p>

<p>Then in stating his terms he asked for a very
moderate sum of money and a "brokerage"
for life. The Government did not have to
think over the matter long. Titian's father
had been honoured among them, Titian's
genius was well known, and the commission
was gladly given him. As soon as he got this
business affair settled he moved into the palace
of the Duke of Milan "at San Samuele; on the
Grand Canal, where he remained for sixteen
years," so says his biographer.</p> 

<p>Titian's affairs were not yet entirely smooth,
because both of the Bellinis having painted
for his patrons, they naturally considered
Titian an intruder, and thought that the work
should have been given to them. They did
all they could to make trouble for the younger
artist, but after a time Titian came into his
rights, receiving his "brokerage" which gave
to him a yearly sum of money 120 crowns,
$126.04. His taxes were taken off for the
future, provided he would agree to paint all
the doges that should rule during his lifetime.</p> 

<p>Titian undertook to do this, but he did not
keep his word, for he painted only five doges, 
<a name="313"></a>
though many more followed. He had no
sooner received his commission from the
council of his native place than he began to
neglect it, and to paint for the husband of the
wicked poisoner--Lucretia Borgia--whose
name was Alfonso d'Este, the Duke of Ferrara.
It was for him he painted the "Venus Worship,"
now in the Museum of Madrid, also "The Three
Ages," which belongs to Lord Ellesmere, and
the "Virgin's Rest near Bethlehem," now in
the National Gallery. Afterward he painted
"Noli Me Tangere," which is in the same
London Gallery.</p> 

<p>There is a picture of great size in the Academy
of Arts in Venice, which was first seen on a
public holiday nearly four hundred years ago.
It is the "Assumption of the Virgin," first
shown on St. Bernardino's day, when all the
public offices were closed by order of the
Senate, and the whole city had a gay time.
This occasion made Titian the most honoured
artist of his time, but still the Venetians had
cause to complain; because now their painter
took so much work in hand that he nearly
ceased doing the work on the council hall.
The council sent him word that unless he
attended to business the paintings should be
finished by some one else and he would have
to pay the new artist out of his own pocket;
but in waywardness he paid no attention to this
summons. Lucretia Borgia died, and her husband
having never loved her, fell at once in 
<a name="314"></a>
love with a girl of a lower class, who was very
good and worthy to be loved. The duke
wanted Titian to paint them both, and so once
more the great painter neglected his contract
with the council. The girl's name was Laura,
and Titian painted her and the duke in one
picture, which now hangs in the Louvre.</p> 

<p>At last, after seven years of his neglecting
to do his promised work the council became
enraged and threatened to take the artist's
property away from him. That frightened
Titian very much, and he began frantically
to work on the battle piece on the hall wall.
It was about this time that he married. He
had probably forgotten Violante in the passing
of so many years; at any rate it was not she
whom he married, but a lady whose first name
was Cecilia. Soon he had a little family of
children, but one of them was destined to make
Titian very unhappy. This was Pomponic
who became a priest, but he was also a wicked
spendthrift, and kept his father forever in
trouble, trying to pay his debts and keep him
out of scrapes. Another son became an
artist; not great like his father, but very
helpful and a comfort to him. Then his wife
died, and Titian had loved her so dearly that
for a long time he had not the heart to paint
much. His sister, Orsa, came to live at his
home and take care of his motherless children.</p> 

<p>He left the palace on the Grand Canal and
bought a home north of Venice, with beautiful 
<a name="315"></a>
gardens attached, and there he lived and
worked, entertaining the most illustrious men.
Titian's house and gardens became the show
place of the country, so many geniuses and
famous people visited there. It was there
that he painted "The Martyrdom of Saint
Peter," and the picture was so loved by the
Venetians that the signori threatened with
death any one who should take the picture
from the chapel where it hung. In spite of
this caution the picture was burned in the fire
that destroyed the chapel in 1867.</p> 

<p>Titian was now getting to be old, but he was
yet to do great work and to have kingly patrons.
Charles V. visited Bologna, and, seeing
Titian's great work, wanted him to paint his
portrait. So the artist went to Bologna and
painted the portrait of the king, clothed in
armour, but without any head-covering, making
Charles V. look so fine a personage, that he
was delighted. Charles said he had always
been painted to look so much uglier than he
really was that when people who had seen
his portraits, actually saw himself they were
pleasantly disappointed. While Titian was
painting his picture, Lombardi, the sculptor,
wished above all things to see Charles, so
Titian said: "You come with me to the
sittings, and act as if you were some apprentice,
carrying my colours and brushes, and then
you can watch the king as easily as possible."
Lombardi did as Titian suggested, but he hid
<a name="316"></a>
in his big and baggy sleeve a tablet of wax, on
which to make a relief picture of Charles. One
day the king surprised the sculptor and
demanded to be shown what he was doing.
Thereupon he was so much pleased that he
commissioned Lombardi to make the model
in marble. While the king was sitting for two
portraits to Titian, the artist one day dropped
his brush. The king looked at the courtiers
who were lounging about watching the work,
but none of them picked it up, so the king
himself did so. Titian was distressed over
this and apologised to the king. "There may
be many kings," said Charles, "but there
will never be more than one Titian--and he
deserves to be served by Caesar himself."
After that he would allow no other artist to
paint his portrait, declaring that Titian alone
could do it properly, and for the two pictures
Titian received two thousand scudi in gold,
was made a Count of the Lateran Palace,
of the Aulic Council and of the Consistory;
with the title of Count Palatine and all the
advantages attached to those dignities. His
children were thereby raised to the rank of
nobles of the empire, with all the honours
appertaining to families with four generations
of ancestors. He was also made Knight of
the Golden Spur, with the right of entrance to
court. This was great return for two portraits
of a king, but it shows what a king could
do if he chose.</p> 

<p><a name="317"></a>
Titian had a brother who also became an
artist, less famous than himself, and it was
that brother, who, when their father died in
the Cadore home, went back to care for the old
place and to keep it in readiness so that the
famous Titian might return to it for rest and
peace. Foreign sovereigns had invited Titian
to end his days with them, but they could not
tempt him from that vale of Cadore nor his
country home in Venice.</p> 

<p>All this time he had been neglecting the
work upon the hall of council, and at last,
the councillors gave the work to another, took
away Titian's "brokerage" and told him he must
return to Venice all the moneys they had given
him for twenty years back. This finally cured
him of his neglect, and he went to work in
earnest painting so rapidly that he finished the
work in two years.</p> 

<p>Before he died Titian went to Rome, where
he painted Pope Paul's portrait, and the story
is told that when the portrait was set to dry
upon the terrace--which it probably was not,--the 
people who passed took off their hats
to it, thinking it was the pope himself.</p> 

<p>Besides his bad son and his good one, Titian
had a beautiful daughter whom he painted
again and again. He went to Augsburg once
more to paint King Charles, who for that work
added a pension of five hundred scudi to what
he had already done for him. This made
the artist "as rich as a prince, instead of poor 
<a name="318"></a>
as a painter." King Philip II. loved art as
his father had, and he took a painting of
Titian's with him to the convent of Yuste,
where he went to die, wishing to have it near
to console him. In those days art had become
a religion for high and low. Great personages
still went to Casa Grande, Titian's Venetian
home, where he entertained like a prince. No
one knew better than he how princes behaved,
and when a cardinal came to dine with him, he
threw his purse to his servant, crying: "Prepare
a feast, for all the world is dining with me!" 
Henry III. of France visited Titian and ordered
sent to him every picture of which he had
asked the price.</p> 

<p>His friends stood by him all his life, but in
his old age his beautiful daughter, Lavinia,
died, leaving behind her six children for him to
love as his own. The brother had died before
that, in the old home at Cadore, and at more
than eighty years of age Titian was still
painting from morning till night. About this
time he sent to King Philip "The Last Supper,"
which was to be hung in the Escorial. The
monks found it too high to fill the space, and
though the artist in charge, Navarrette, begged
them to let it be, they cut a piece off the top,
that it might be hung where they wanted it.
Titian had so far had to pay no taxes, but at
that time an account of his property was
demanded and this is what he owned: "Several
houses, pieces of land, sawmills, and the like," 
<a name="319"></a>
and he was blamed because he did not state
the full value of his possessions. At ninety-one
he painted a picture which became the
guide of Rubens and his brother artists, so
wonderful was it. Again, at ninety-nine he
began a picture, which was to be given to the
monks of the Frari in return for a burial place
for the artist within the convent walls, but he
never finished it. He died during the time of
the plague, but of old age alone, though his
son, Orzio, died of the disease. The alarm
of the people was so great that a law had been
passed to bury all who died at that time,
instantly and without ceremony, but that law
was waived for the painter. Titian, in the
midst of a nation's tragedy was borne to the
convent of the Frari, with honours. Two
centuries later the Austrian Emperor commanded
the great sculptor, Canova, to
make a mausoleum above the tomb.</p> 

<p>It was said that shortly before he died
Titian began to be less sure in his use of colours,
and would often daub on great masses, but
his students came in the night and rubbed them
off, so that the master never felt his failing.</p> 

<p>As King Charles had said, there was never
but one such artist in the world.</p> 

<p>Titian prepared his canvas by painting upon
it a solid colour to serve for the bed upon which
the picture itself was to be painted. To quote
more exactly from a good description--some 
of these foundation colours were laid on with 
<a name="320"></a>
resolute strokes of his brush which was heavily
laden with colour, while the half-tints were
made with pure red earth, the lights with pure
white, softened into the rest of the foundation
painting with touches of the same brush dipped
into red, black, and yellow. In this way he
could give the "promise" of a figure in four
strokes. After laying this foundation, he
turned his picture toward the wall and left
it there for months at a time, frequently
turning it around that he might criticise it.
If, during this time of waiting, he thought any
part of the work already done was poor, he
made it right, changing the shape of an arm,
adding flesh where he thought it was needed,
reducing flesh where it seemed to him out of
proportion, and then he would again turn
the canvas face to the wall. After months of
self-criticism and retouching he would have
the first layer of flesh painted upon his figures,
and a good beginning made. "It was contrary
to his habit to finish at one painting, and he
used to say that a poet who improvises cannot
hope to form pure verses." He would often
produce a half-light with a rub of his finger,
"or with a touch of the thumb he would dab
a spot of dark pigment into some corner to
strengthen it; or throw in a reddish stroke--a 
tear of blood so to speak--to break the
parts ... in fact when finishing he painted
more with his fingers than with his brush."
He used to say, "White, red, and black, these 
<a name="321"></a>
are all the colours that a painter needs, but
one must know how to use them."</p>

<center>PLATE--THE ARTIST'S DAUGHTER, LAVINIA.</center>

<p>Previous to the time of Titian, it had been
the custom to paint portraits of beautiful
ladies merely to their waists, just far enough
to show their hands. He went further, and
produced "knee portraits," which gave him
an opportunity to paint their gorgeous gowns
as well. He has done so in making this
picture of his daughter Lavinia, probably
just before her marriage to Cornelio Sarcinelli
which took place in 1555. She is attired in
gold-coloured brocade with pearls about her
neck. Her dress, combined with the dish of
fruit she holds so high, gives Titian the colour
effects he always sought. A yellow lemon is
specially striking, and the red curtain to the
left harmonises with the whole. The uplift
of the arms and the turn of the head give the
desired amount of action. It is not Titian's
customary style of work; he seldom did anything
so intimate and personal, and the picture
is the more interesting on that account. It
is in the Berlin Gallery.</p> 

<p>Some of Titian's famous pictures are: his
own portrait; "Flora," "Holy Family and St.
Bridget," "The Last Judgment," "The Entombment,"
"The Magdalene," "Bacchanal," "St.
Sebastian," "Bacchus and Ariadne," and "The
Sleeping Venus."</p> 

<p><a name="322"></a></p>
<h1>XXXIX</h1>

<h1>JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER</h1>

<center><i>English</i><br>
1775-1851<br>
<i>Pupil of the Royal Academy</i></center>

<p>If the occupation of a shepherd produced
a poet, no less did an artist of the first
water come out of a barber shop. Turner's
father was a jolly little fellow who dressed
hair for English dandies and did all of those
things which in those days fell to men of his
profession. It was in this little shop that the
great artist grew up. Father Turner was
ambitious for his son, who was anxious to study
art. The less said of the artist's mother the
better, for she was a termagant and finally
went crazy, so that the father and his little boy
were soon left alone, to plan and work and strive
to make each other happy. The pair were
never apart.</p> 

<p>Turner's art beginning was at six years of
age, on the occasion of a visit his father paid
to a goldsmith of whose hair curling and
peruquing he had charge. Perched upon a
chair too high for a little boy's comfort, and
feeling that it took his father very long indeed
to satisfy the customer, Joseph's eye lighted upon
a silver lion which ornamented a silver tray.
<a name="323"></a>
He studied every detail of that lion while
waiting for his father, and finally when they
got home, he sat down and drew it from
memory. By tea time he had a lion in full
action upon the paper. This delighted his
father above everything, and it was settled
then and there that the little fellow should have
a chance to learn art.</p> 

<p>The father could not give much time to his
upbringing, but he taught him to be honest
and kind-hearted and to save his money.
His playground was generally the bank of the
Thames, and under London Bridge where,
roving with the sailors, he learned to love the
ships, the setting-suns and evening waters
from a daily study of them.</p> 

<p>He did not do much at school, because the
other pupils at New Brentford, learning that
he could draw wonderful things upon the
schoolroom walls, used to do his "sums" for
him, while he sketched for them. After a
while father Turner began to hang up some
of his son's sketches upon the walls of the
barber shop, among the wigs and curls and
<i>toupées</i>, and he put little tags upon them,
telling the price. The extraordinary work
of his little boy began to attract the attention
of the jolly barber's patrons, and by the time
he was twelve years old the child had a
picture upon the walls of the Royal Academy--a 
far-cry from barber shop to Academy!</p> 

<p>One authority says that this first exhibition 
<a name="324"></a>
occurred in his fourteenth year, but by that
time he was a pupil of the Academy, and it is not
unlikely that he had shown his mettle before.</p> 

<p>He now began to earn his own living, but
he still dwelt in the barber shop with his father.
While in the Academy he coloured prints,
made backgrounds for other painters, drew
architect's plans, and in that way made money.
He had been sent to a drawing master to study
"the art of perspective," but having no
mathematical knowledge he had been unable
to learn it, and the teacher had advised his
father to put little Turner to cobbling or
making clothes. However, William was to
learn perspective, and even to be made master
of that branch of art in the Academy itself.</p> 

<p>In after years, when he had become a great
artist, someone spoke pityingly of the drudgery
he had had to do to make money as a young
boy--referring to his painting of backgrounds
and the like. "Well! and what could be better
practice?" Turner answered cheerfully.</p> 

<p>He used to go to the house of Dr. Munro,
who lived in fine style on the Strand. This
gentleman owned Rembrandts, Rubenses,
Titians, and other great masterpieces, and
in that house the "little barber" had a chance
to see the best of art, and also to copy it. This
was a great opportunity for him and he made
the most of it. Besides the chance for study,
he earned about half a crown an evening and
his supper, for his copying.</p>

<p><a name="325"></a>
Turner was the first painter to make "warm
moonlight." All other artists had given cold,
silvery effects to a moonlit atmosphere, but
Turner had seen a mellow, sympathetic moon,
and he first showed it to others. About this
time he went travelling; for an engraver of the
<i>Copper Plate Magazine</i> had engaged the
young boy to go into Wales and make sketches
for his work. Turner set off on a pony which
a friend had lent him, with his baggage done
up in a bundle--it did not make a very big
one--and thus he voyaged. It was a fine
experience, and he came home with many
beautiful scenes on paper, which he in after
years made into complete pictures. Next
he made the acquaintance of Thomas Girtin, the
first in his country of a fine school of water-colour
painters, and this acquaintance grew
into a close friendship. The two were devoted
to each other and worked together at any sort
of mechanical art work that would bring them
a living. When Girtin died Turner said:
"Had Tim Girtin lived, I should have starved,"
showing how highly he valued Girtin's work.</p> 

<p>Turner is said to have been "a stout, clumsy
little fellow, who never cared how he looked.
He wore an ill-fitting suit, and his luggage tied
up in a handkerchief was slung over his
shoulder on a cane. Sometimes he carried a
small valise and an old umbrella, the handle
of which he converted into a fishing rod, for
Turner dearly loved both hunting and fishing."</p> 

<p><a name="326"></a>
The hero travelled a great deal, because
above every thing he loved the fields and
streams, and to tramp alone. It is said that
it was his habit to walk twenty-five miles a
day, seeing everything on the way, letting no
peculiarity of nature escape him. His sketchbook
was a curiosity, because he not only made
sketches in it, but jotted down his travelling
expenses, what he thought about things that
he saw, and all the gossip he heard in the towns
through which he passed. Because he liked
best to travel alone he was called "the Great
Hermit of Nature."</p> 

<p>One memorable day--of which he thought
but little at the time--he stopped on the road
to make a sketch of Norham Castle. Later
he completed the picture, and it became
famous, so successful that from that hour he
had all the work he could do. Years afterward,
when passing that way again in company
with a friend, he was seen to take off his hat
to the castle.</p> 

<p>"Why are you doing that?" his friend asked,
in amazement.</p> 

<p>"Well, that castle laid the foundation of
my success," he answered, "and I am pleased
to salute it."</p> 

<p>During his young manhood Turner had
fallen in love with a girl, and planned to marry,
but after he returned from one of his country
trips he found she had married another, and
from that moment the artist was a changed 
<a name="327"></a>
man. He had been generous and gay before,
now he began to save his money, so that people
thought him miserly--but he was forgiven
when it became known what he finally did with
his fortune. After the young woman deserted
him he wandered more than ever, and one of
his fancies was to keep boys from robbing
birds' nests. He looked after the little birds
so carefully that the boys named him "old
Blackbirdy." He had already begun those
wonderful pictures of ships and seas, and
his house was ornamented with full-rigged
little ships and water plants, which he carefully
raised to put into his pictures. By that time
he had bought a home of his own in the
country, and his father the barber went to
live with him. The old man's trade had fallen
off, because the fashions had changed, wigs
were less worn, and hair was not so elaborately
dressed. In the country home the old man
took charge of all the household affairs, prepared
his son's canvases for him, and after the pictures
were painted it was the ex-barber who varnished
them, so that Turner said, "Father begins
and finishes all my pictures." There the
father and son lived, in perfect peace and
affection, till Turner decided to sell the place
and move into town, "because," said he,
"Dad is always working in the garden and
catching cold."</p> 

<p>Meanwhile he had been made master of
perspective in the Academy, and it was 
<a name="328"></a>
expected that he would lecture to the students,
but he was not cut out for a lecturer. He was
not elegant in his manners, nor impressive in
his speech. On one occasion, when he had
risen to deliver a speech, he looked helplessly
about him and finally blurted out: "Gentlemen!
I've been and left my lecture in the
hackney coach!"</p> 

<p>During these years he had tried to establish
a studio like other masters and to have pupils
and apprentices about him; but the stupid ones
he could not endure, having no patience with
them, and he treated all the fashionable ones
so bluntly they would not stay; so the idea
had to be given up.</p> 

<p>He became a visitor at Farnley Hall in
Yorkshire, where a friend, Mr. Hawksworth
Fawkes lived, and in the course of his lifetime
Fawkes put fifty thousand dollars worth of
Turner's pictures upon his walls. The Fawkes
family described Turner as a most delightful
man: "The fun, frolic, and shooting we enjoyed
together, and which, whatever may be said by
others of his temper and disposition, have
proved to me that he was, in his hours of
distraction from his professional labours as
kindly hearted a man and as capable of
enjoyment and fun of all kinds as any I ever
knew."</p> 

<p>Another friend writes: "Of all light-hearted,
merry creatures I ever knew, Turner was
the most so; and the laughter and fun that 
<a name="329"></a>
abounded when he was an inmate of our
cottage was inconceivable, particularly with the
juvenile members of our family."</p>

<p>The story of his disappointment in marriage
is an interesting one. It is said that the
young lady whom he loved was the sister of a
schoolmate. They had been engaged for some
time, but while he was on one of his travels his
letters were stolen and kept from the young
woman. She believed he had forgotten her,
and her stepmother, who had taken the
letters, persuaded the girl to engage herself
to another. Turner returned just a week
before her marriage and tried to win her back,
but although she loved him, she felt herself
then bound to her new suitor and therefore
married him. Her marriage was very unhappy
and her misery, as well as his own, distressed
the artist till his death. Almost all his life,
in spite of his seeming gaiety, he worked like
a slave, rising at four o'clock in the morning
and working while light lasted. When
remonstrated with about this he would sadly
say: "There are no holidays for me."</p> 

<p>All his ways were honest and simple, and
his election to the Academy was very exceptional
in the way it came about. Most
Academicians had graces and airs and good
fellowship to commend them, as well as their
works, but Turner had none of these things.
He had given no dinners, nor played a social
part in order to get the membership. When 
<a name="330"></a>
the news was brought him that he was elected,
some one advised him to go and thank his fellow
Academicians for the honour, as that was the
custom; but Turner saw no reason in it.
"Since I am elected, it must have been because
they thought my pictures made me worthy.
Why, then should I thank them? Why thank
a man for performing a simple duty." In half
a century Turner was absent only three times
from the Academy exhibitions, and his.
membership was of very great value to him.</p> 

<p>At this time Turner had an idea for an art
publication to be called <i>Liber Studiorum</i>.
He meant to issue this in dark blue covers and
to include in each number five plates. There
was to be a series of five hundred plates
altogether, and these were to be divided,
according to subject, into historical, landscape,
pastoral, mountainous, marine, and architectural
studies. After seventy plates had been,
published, the enterprise fell through, because
no one bought the periodical, and there was
no money to keep it going. The engraver
of the plates, Charles Turner, became so
disgusted with the failure that he even used
the proofs of these wonderful studies to kindle
the fire with. Many years later, a great print-dealer,
Colnaghi, made Turner, the engraver,
hunt up all the proofs that he had not used for
kindling paper, and these he bought for £1,500.</p> 

<p>"Good God!" cried Charles Turner, "I have
been burning banknotes all my life."</p> 

<p><a name="331"></a>
Some years later still £3,000 was paid for
a single copy of the <i>Liber Studiorum</i>.</p> 

<p>Turner was a most conscientious man, and
many stories are told of his manner of teaching.
He could not talk eloquently nor give very
clear instructions, talking not being his forte,
but he would lean over a student's shoulder,
point out the defects in his work, and then on
a paper beside him make a few marks to
illustrate what he had said. If the artist had
genius enough then to imitate him, well and
good; if not, Turner simply went away and
left him. His own ways of working were
remarkable. He often painted with a sponge
and used his thumbnail to "tear up a sea."
It mattered little to him how he produced his
effects so long as he did it. His impressionistic
style confused many of his critics, and it is
told how a fine lord once looked at a picture
be had made, and snorted: "Nothing but
daubs, nothing but daubs!" Then catching
the inspiration, he leaned close to the canvas,
and said: "No! Painting! so it is!"</p>

<p>"I find, Mr. Turner," said a lady, "that in
copying your pictures, touches of red, blue
and yellow appear all through the work."</p> 

<p>"Well, madam, don't you see that yourself,
in nature? Because if you don't, heaven
help you!" was the reply.</p> 

<p>"Once, after painting a summer evening,
he thought that the picture needed a dark
spot in front by way of contrast; so he cut out 
<a name="332"></a>
a dog from black paper and stuck it on. That
dog still appears in the picture."</p>

<p>Another time he painted "A Snow-storm
at Sea," which some critics called "Soap-suds
and Whitewash." Turner, who had been for
hours lashed to the mast of a ship in order to
catch the proper effect, was naturally much
hurt by the criticism. "What would they
have!" he exclaimed. "I wonder what they
think a storm is like. I wish they'd been in it."</p> 

<p>Turner was conscientiously fond of his work,
and when he sold a picture he said that he
had lost one of his children.</p> 

<p>He grew rich, but he never was knighted,
because his manners were not fine enough
to suit the king. He wished to become
President of the Royal Academy, but that
was impossible because he was not polished
enough to carry the honour gracefully.</p> 

<p>After selling his place in the country Turner
bought a house in Harley Street, where
he lived a strange and lonely life. A gentleman
has written about this incident, which shows
us his manner of living:</p> 

<p>"Two ladies called upon Turner while he
lived in Harley Street. On sending in their
names, after having ascertained that he was
at home, they were politely requested to walk
in, and were shown into a large sitting-room
without a fire. This was in the depth of winter;
and lying about in various places were several
cats without tails. In a short time our talented 
<a name="333"></a>
friend made his appearance, asking the ladies
if they felt cold. The youngest replied in the
negative; her companion, more curious, wished
she had stated otherwise, as she hoped they
might have been shown into his sanctum or
studio. After a little conversation he offered
them biscuits, which they partook of for the
novelty--such an event being almost
unprecedented in his house. One of the ladies
bestowing some notice upon the cats, he was
induced to remark that he had seven, and that
they came from the Isle of Man."</p>

<p>Thus we learn that Turner's desolate house
was full of Manx cats, and of many other pets.
When he had moved elsewhere--to 47 Queen
Anne Street--one of the pictures he cared
most for, "Bligh Shore," was put up as a
covering to the window and a cat wishing to
come in, scratched it hopelessly. The housekeeper
started to punish it for this but
Turner said indulgently, "Oh, never mind!"
and saved the cat from chastisement.</p> 

<p>The place he lived in, where his "dad was
always working in the garden and catching
cold," he called Solus Lodge, because he wished
his acquaintances to understand that he
wanted to be alone. One picture painted by
him to order, was to have brought him $2,500;
but when it was finished the man was disappointed
with it and would not take it. Later,
Turner was offered $8,000 for it, but would not
sell it.</p> 

<p><a name="334"></a>
Turner again fell in love, but his bashfulness
ruined his chances. He wrote to the brother
of the lady. "If she would only waive her
bashfulness, or, in other words, make an offer
instead of expecting one, the same (Solus
Lodge) might change occupiers." Faint heart
certainly did not win fair lady in this case,
for she married another. Before he died
Turner was offered $25,000 for two pictures
which he would not sell. "No" he said.
"I have willed them and cannot sell them."
He disposed of several great works as
legacies. One picture of which he was very
fond, "Carthage," was the occasion of an
amusing anecdote. "Chantry," he said to his
friend the sculptor, "I want you to promise
that when I am dead you will see me rolled
in that canvas when I'm buried."</p> 

<p>"All right," said Chantry, "I'll do it, but
I'll promise to have you taken up and unrolled,
also."</p> 

<p>A remarkable incident of generosity is told
of Turner. In 1826 he hung two exquisite
pictures in the Academy. One, "Cologne,"
having a most beautiful, golden effect. This
was hung between two portraits by Sir Thomas
Lawrence. The golden colouring of Turner's
picture entirely destroyed the effect of the
Lawrence pictures, and without a word, Turner
washed his lovely picture over with lampblack.
This gave the Lawrence, pictures their
full colour value. A friend who had been 
<a name="335"></a>
enthusiastic about the "Cologne" was provoked
with Turner. "What in the world did you
do that for?" he demanded. "Well, poor
Lawrence was so unhappy. It will all wash off
after the exhibition." Turner had his reward
in cash, for the picture sold for 2,000 guineas.</p> 

<p>Above all things Turner hated engravings,
or any process that cheapened art, and one
day he stated this to his friend Lawrence.
"I don't choose to be a basket engraver,"
he declared.</p> 

<p>"What do you mean by that," Sir Thomas
inquired.</p> 

<p>"Why when I got off the coach t' other day
at Hastings, a woman came up with a basket
of your 'Mrs. Peel,' and offered to sell me
one for a sixpence."</p> 

<p>Turner dearly loved his friends, and the story
of Chantry's death, illustrates it. He was in
his room when the sculptor breathed his last,
and just as he died, the artist turned to another
friend, George Jones, and with tears streaming
down his face, wrung Jones's hand and rushed
from the room, unable to speak.</p> 

<p>Again, when William Frederick Wells,
another friend, died, Turner rushed to the
house of Clara Wells, his daughter, and cried:
"Oh Clara, Clara! these are iron tears. I have
lost the best friend I ever had in my life."</p> 

<p>In his old age Turner suddenly disappeared
from all his haunts, and his friends could not
find him. They were much troubled, but one 
<a name="336"></a>
day his old housekeeper found a note in a
pocket of an old coat, which made her think
he had gone to Chelsea. She looked there for
him, and found him very ill, in a little cottage
on the Thames River. Everybody about called
him Admiral Booth, believing him to be a
retired admiral. He had felt his death near
and had tried to meet it quite alone. He died
the very day after his friends found him,
as he was being wheeled by them to the window
to look out upon the river for the last time.
He was buried in St. Paul's Cathedral between
Sir Joshua Reynolds and James Barry. He
left his drawings and pictures to a "Turner
Gallery," and $100,000 to the Royal Academy,
to be used for a medal to be struck
every two years for the best exhibitor. The
rest of his fortune went to care for "poor
and decayed male artists born in England
and of English parents only." This was
to be known as Turner's Gift, and that is
why he had saved money all his life.</p> 

<p>A few more of the numberless stories of his
generosity should be told. A picture had been
sent to the Academy by a painter named Bird
It was very fine, and Turner was full of its
praise, but when they came to hang it no place
could be found.</p> 

<p>"It can't be hung," the others of the committee
said.</p> 

<p>"It must be hung," returned Turner, but
nothing could be done about it, for there was 
<a name="337"></a>
absolutely no place. Then Turner went aside
with the picture and sat studying it a long
time. Finally he got up, took down a picture
of his own and hung Bird's in its place.
"There!" he said. "It is hung!"</p> 

<p>Again, an old drawing-master died and
Turner who had known the family for a long
time, was aware that they were destitute, so
he gave the widow a good sum of money with
which to bury her husband and to meet
general expenses. After some time she came
to him with the money; but Turner put his
hands in his pockets. "No," he said; "keep
it. Use it to send the children to school and
to church."</p> 

<p>On one occasion when he had irritably sent
a beggar from his house, he ran out and called
her back, thrusting a £5 note into her hand
before letting her go.</p> 

<p>There was a man who in Turner's youth,
while the little fellow was making pictures in
the cheerless barber shop bought all of these
drawings he could find. He often raised the
price and in every way tried to help Turner.
In after years that old patron went bankrupt.
Turner heard that his steward had been
instructed to cut down some fine old trees on
this man's estate, and sell them. Turner,
without letting himself be known in the
matter, at once stopped the cutting and put
into his old patron's hands about £20,000.
The rescued man, afterward, through the
<a name="338"></a>
same channels that he had received the
money, paid it all back. Years passed, and the
son of that same man got into the same
difficulties, and again, without being known
in the matter, Turner restored his fortune.
That son, in his turn, honestly paid back the
full amount. This was the miser who saved
all his money--to do good deeds to his friends.
Ruskin wrote that in all his life he had never
heard from Turner one unkind or blameful
word for others.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE FIGHTING TÉMÉRAIRE</center>

<p>This was the picture which Turner loved
best of all, the one he would never sell; but
at his death ho gave it to the English nation.</p> 

<p>"Many years before he painted it, he had
gone down to Portsmouth one day to see Nelson's
fleet come in after the glorious victory
of Trafalgar. The <i>Téméraire</i> was pointed
out to him--a battle ship that had very
proudly borne the English flag, for during the
battle it had run in between two French
frigates and captured them both.</p> 

<p>"And now between thirty and forty years
later, he lingered one afternoon on the banks
of the Thames. As he looked over the water
he saw the grand old hulk being towed down
the river by a noisy little tug to be broken
up at Deptford. 'There's a fine subject!' he
exclaimed as he looked at the heroic ship that 
<a name="339"></a>
had known many glorious years; and in his
thought he compared it to 'a battle-scarred
warrior borne to the grave.'</p> 

<p>"Then he painted the picture. The glow
of the setting sun irradiates the scene and bids
farewell to the old ship. Twilight is coming
on, and the new moon has just risen in its
pearly light. It is a pathetic picture," and
well illustrates how truly a "master of sunsets
and waves" the artist was.</p> 

<p>Among his other paintings are several of
Venice; "The Slave Ship" and many other sea
pieces.</p> 

<p><a name="340"></a></p>
<h1>XL</h1>

<h1>SIR ANTHONY VAN DYCK</h1>

<center><i>Flemish School</i><br>
1599-1641<br>
<i>Pupil of Rubens</i> </center>

<p>Anthony Van Dyke's father was
neither a gentleman nor an ill-born
person. He was "betwixt-and-between,"
being a silk merchant, who met so many fine
folk that he seemed to be "fine folk" himself;
and by the time Anthony had grown up, he actually
believed himself to be one of them. If
manners stand for fineness Sir Anthony must
have been superfine, because he was almost
overburdened with "manners."</p> 

<p>He became a wonderful, be-laced, perfumed,
shiny gentleman who never stooped to paint
anything less than royalty and its associates,
nor in anything less than velvets and laces.
Like Rembrandt and Gainsborough, he set a
fashion--or rather the style in which he painted
came to be known after his name. We are
all familiar with the kind of ornamentation
on clothes called Van Dyck--pointed lace,
or trimmings--and pointed beards.</p> 

<p>As a very young lad he was almost too
dainty to be liked by healthy boys; and the
worst of it was he did not care whether healthy,
<a name="341"></a>
robust chaps liked him or not; certainly he
did not care for them. He liked to sit in his
father's shop and be smiled upon by the great
ladies who came to buy, and in turn to smile
shyly at them; this tendency became stronger
as he grew to be a man.</p> 

<p>Anthony's mother made the most exquisite
embroideries, and this may mean that some
part of his art was inherited. She handled
lovely colours, and tried to fashion beautiful
flower shapes for customers. She was a fragile,
tender sort of woman, while the father was
doubtless a dapper, over-nice little fellow.</p> 

<p>Anthony was born in Antwerp, and the facts
concerning his education, as in the case of most
artists, are lost to our knowledge. He probably
had a little of some sort outside of painting,
but it certainly was not enough to hurt him,
nor to make a fine healthy man of him. He
was very beautiful, in a lady-like, faint-coloured
way, not in the least resembling the handsome,
gorgeous, elegant, robust Rubens, a true
cavalier, of a dashing sort.</p> 

<p>He was apprenticed to a painter when he
was ten years old, and later on became the pupil
of Rubens. He painted a whole series of
Apostles' heads, about which a lawsuit took
place. The papers relating to this were found
about twenty years ago, though the lawsuit
occurred as far back as 1615. Several of the
Apostles' heads that brought about the suit
are to-day to be seen in the gallery at Dresden.</p>

<p><a name="342"></a>
Everything in those days--especially in
Germany and Holland--was represented by
a "guild." In reading about the Mastersingers
of Nuremberg we are told that on the day
when the trial of singers was to take place,
dozens of "guilds" assembled in the meadow--guilds 
of bakers, of shoemakers--of which
Hans Sachs was the head--guilds of goldsmiths,
etc. Van Dyck was a member of
the painters' guild when he was no more
than nineteen. His work at that time
showed so much strength that there is a
picture of his, an old gentleman and lady, in
the Dresden gallery, which for a long time
was supposed to have been painted by his
master, Rubens.</p> 

<p>An intimate friend of Van Dyck, Kenelm
Digby, says that Van Dyck's first relations with
Rubens came about by Van Dyck being
employed to make engravings for the reproduction
of Rubens's great works. After that
he studied painting with him.</p> 

<p>One of his friends of that time wrote that
at twenty Van Dyck was nearly as great as
Rubens, though this is hardly substantiated by
the verdict of time, and that being a man with
very rich family connections, he could hardly be
expected to leave home. On every hand we
have signs of the artist's affected feeling about
himself and other people.</p> 

<p>However, an annual pension from the King
of England seems to have made travelling 
<a name="343"></a>
possible to this fine gentleman of lace ruffles,
pale face, and lady-like ways.</p> 

<p>There is an entry about him on the royal
account book of "Special service ... 
performed for His Majesty." Also "Antonio
Van Dyck, gent., <i>His Majesty's servant</i>, is
allowed to travaile 8 months, he havinge
obtayneid his Majesty's leave in that behalf,
as was signified to the E. of Arundel."
Certainly by that time Van Dyck had become
a truly great portrait painter; not the greatest,
because every picture showed the same
characteristics in its subject--elegance, fine
clothes, languid manners, without force of
great truth or any excellent moral quality to
distinguish one from another. Nevertheless,
the kind of painting that he did, he did better
than anyone else had ever done, or probably
ever will do.</p> 

<p>While in England he painted all the royalties
and many aristocrats, and wherever he went
he was always painting pictures of himself.</p> 

<p>He travelled about a good deal, always
painting people of the same class--kings and
queens and fine folk, and painting them pretty
nearly all alike.</p> 

<p>When he went to Italy he was everywhere
received as a great painter, but while artists
agreed that his work was excellent he was not
much liked by them, and many tales are told
about that journey which are interesting,
if not entirely true. Van Dyck was the sort
<a name="344"></a>
of man about whom tales would be made up.
One, however, sounds true. It is said that he
fell in love--which of course he was always
doing--with a beautiful country girl, and that
for love of her he painted an altar piece into
which he put himself, seated on the great gray
horse which Rubens had given him. That
picture is in St. Martin's Church at Saventhem,
near Brussels, but although one is inclined to
believe this story because it was quite the sort
of thing which might be expected of Van Dyck,
even this is not true, because the painting was
done long after the artist had made his Italian
journey, and it was commissioned by a gentleman
living at Saventhem, whose daughter
Van Dyck undoubtedly liked pretty well; but
he made the picture for money, not for love.</p> 

<p>While he was in Italy he lived with a
cardinal, and painted languid pictures of
sacred subjects, which were far from being his
best work. The best that he did was in
portraiture. Distinguished though he was,
he did not have a very good time in Italy,
because he would not join the artists who
worked there, nor associate with them in the
least, and naturally this made him disliked.</p> 

<p>We see a good many portraits painted by
Van Dyck, of persons mounted upon or standing
beside the gray horse, and these were painted
about the time of that Italian journey. He
used the Rubens horse in many paintings.</p> 

<p>Of all the people with whom he painted,
<a name="345"></a>
he most valued the knowledge he got from a
blind woman painter of Sicily, called Sofonisba
Anguisciola, and he often said that he had
learned more from a blind woman than from
all the open-eyed men he ever knew. This
woman artist was over ninety years old at the
time he learned from her.</p> 

<p>While he was in Italy the plague broke out,
and Van Dyck fled for his life, leaving an
unfinished picture behind him, one ordered
by the English king, the subject being Rinaldo
and Armida, which had gained for the artist
his knighthood pension.</p> 

<p>It is said that during his first year in England
he painted the king and queen twelve
times. He had an extraordinary record for
industry, and painted very quickly, as he had
need to do, because it took a great deal of money
to buy the sort of things Van Dyck liked--fine 
laces and velvets, perfumes and satins.
His plan was to sketch his subject first on gray
paper with black and white chalk, and after
that he gave the sketch to an assistant who
increased it to the size he wished to paint.
The next step was to set his painter to work
upon the clothing of his figures. This was
painted in roughly, together with background
and any architectural effect Van Dyck wanted.
After this the artist himself sat down and in
three or four sittings, of not more than an hour
each, he was able to finish a picture worth to-day
thousands of dollars.</p> 

<p><a name="346"></a>
He painted hands specially well, and kept
certain models for them alone.</p> 

<p>Van Dyck had eleven brothers and sisters,
whom he always kept in mind. Some of his
sisters had become nuns while some of his
brothers were priests, and Van Dyck's influence
got a monkish brother called to the Dutch
court to act as chaplain to the queen.</p> 

<p>By this time every royal personage in the
world, nearly, had sent for Van Dyck to paint
his portrait, for he could make one look handsomer
than could any other painter in
existence. If the king was very ugly, Van
Dyck painted such beautiful clothes upon him
that nobody noticed the plainness of the
features.</p> 

<p>When Van Dyck was about thirty-six years
old he married a great lady, the Lady Mary
Ruthven, granddaughter of the Earl of Gowrie,
but before that he had had a lady-love,
Margaret Lemon, whom he painted as the Virgin
and in several other pictures. When he
married Lady Mary, Margaret Lemon was so
furiously jealous that she tried to injure
Van Dyck's right hand so that he could paint
no more.</p> 

<p>About this time Rubens died in Flanders,
leaving behind him an unfinished series of
pictures which had been commissioned by
the king of Spain. Van Dyck was asked to
finish these, but declined until he was asked
to make an independent picture, to complete 
<a name="347"></a>
the series, and this he was delighted to do.
Ferdinand of Austria wrote to the king of
Spain that Van Dyck had returned in great
haste to London to arrange for his change of
home, in order to do the work. "Possibly he
may still change his mind," he added, "for he
is stark mad." This shows how Van Dyck's
erratic ways appeared to some people.</p> 

<p>He had a sister, Justiniana, who was also
something of an artist and she married a
nobleman when she was about twelve years old.</p> 

<p>When Van Dyck died he was buried in
St. Paul's, London, and Charles I. placed an
inscription on his tomb.</p> 

<p>In the "Young People's Story of Art,"
is the following anecdote: "A visit was once
paid by a courtly looking stranger passing
through Haarlem, to Franz Hals, the distinguished
Dutch painter.</p> 

<p>"Hals was not at home but he was sent for
to the tavern and hastily returned. The
stranger told him that he had heard of his
reputation--had just two hours to spare--and 
wished to have his portrait painted. Hals,
seizing canvas and brushes fell vigorously to
work; and before the given time had elapsed,
he said, 'Have the goodness to rise, sir, and
examine your portrait!' The stranger looked
at it, expressed his satisfaction, and then said,
'Painting seems such a very easy thing, suppose
we change places and see what I can do!'</p> 

<p>"Hals assented, and took his position as the 
<a name="348"></a>
sitter. The unknown began, and as Hals
watched him, he saw that he wielded the brush
so quickly, he must be a painter. His work,
too, was rapidly finished, and as Hals looked
at it he exclaimed, 'You must be Van Dyck!
No one else could paint such a portrait!'</p> 

<p>"No two portraits could have been more
unlike. The story adds that the famous
Dutch and Flemish masters heartily embraced
each other."</p> 

<p>The stories of Van Dyck's youth are interesting,
and probably true. It is said that he
drew so well when he was a pupil of Rubens
that the great master often allowed him to
retouch his own works. Once in Rubens's
studio, some of the students got the key and
went in to see what the master was doing,
when he was absent. Rubens had left a
painting fresh upon the easel, and in looking
about them one of the boys rubbed against
it. This frightened them all. What should
they do? Rubens would find his picture
ruined and know that they had broken in.</p> 

<p>After consultation they decided there was
no one with them who could repair the damage
as well as Van Dyck, who set about it, and soon
he had painted in the smudged part so perfectly
that when Rubens saw it, he did not for some
time know that anything had happened to
his picture. Later he suspected something,
and when he learned of the prank and its
outcome, he was so delighted with Van Dyck's 
<a name="349"></a>
work that he praised him instead of blaming
him for it.</p> 

<p>Van Dyck had a very precise method of working.
When sitters came to him he would paint for
just one hour. Then he would politely dismiss
them, and his servant would wash his brushes,
and clear the way for the next sitter. He
dined with his sitters often that he might
surprise in them the expression which he
wanted to paint. Also, he had their clothing
sent to his studio, that it might be exactly
imitated by himself or by those assistants who
painted in the foundation for his finished work.</p> 

<p>While attached to King Charles I.'s court,
Van Dyck was given a fine house at Blackfriars,
on the Thames, and he had a private
landing place made for boats, so that the
royal family might visit him at their convenience.
Charles I. used often to go to Van
Dyck's studio to escape his many troubles,
and thus the artist's home became as fashionable
a gathering place, as Gainsborough's studio
was in Bath. He painted Queen Henrietta not
less than twenty-five times. He often furnished
concerts for his sitters, for he himself was passionately
fond of music, and moreover he believed
that music often brought to the faces of
his sitters, an expression that he loved to paint.</p> 

<p>He painted so many pictures of a certain
kind of little dog, in the pictures of King
Charles I. that ever since that breed has been
known as the King Charles spaniel.</p> 

<p><a name="350"></a>
After a while Van Dyck got heavily into
debt. King Charles himself was in great
trouble, and he had no money with which to
pay his painter's pension. The artist had
lived so extravagantly that he did not know
at last which way to turn, so in desperation
he thought to try alchemy and maybe to learn
the secret of making gold. He wasted much
time at this, as cleverer men have done, but
at last he became too ill for that or for his own
proper work, and badly off though Charles was
himself, he offered his court physician a large
sum if he could cure his court painter. But
Van Dyck had enjoyed life too well, and
nothing could be done for him.</p> 

<p>He was the seventh child of his parents--which 
some have thought had something to do
with his genius and success; he lived gaily
all the years of his life, going restlessly from
place to place, and having many acquaintances
but probably few friends, outside of his old
master, Rubens, who loved him for his genius.</p> 

<center>PLATE--CHILDREN OF CHARLES THE FIRST</center>

<p>Van Dyck painted the family of the unfortunate
king of England four times. There
are five children in the Windsor Castle picture,
and this one, which hangs in the Turin
Gallery, was probably painted before the birth
of the fourth child in 1636. It is celebrated
for its colouring as well as for its great
<a name="351"></a>
artistic merit. The children are surely childlike
enough, despite their stately attire, and
they little dream of the sad fate awaiting the
whole of the Stuart family to which they
belong.</p> 

<p>Other Van Dycks are: "The Blessed Herman
Joseph," "Lords Digby and Russell," "Lord
Wharton," "Countess Folkestone," and
"William Prince of Orange."</p>

<p><a name="352"></a></p>
<h1>XLI</h1>

<h1>VELASQUEZ (DIEGO RODRIGUEZ DE SILVA)</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Vay-lahs'keth)<br>
<i>Castilian School</i><br>
1599-1669<br>
<i>Pupil of Herrera</i> </center>

<p>It is pretty difficult to find out why a
man was named so-and-so in the days
of the early Italian and Spanish painters.
More likely than not they would be called after
the master to whom they had been first apprenticed;
or after their trade; after the town from
which they came, and rarely because their
father had had the name before them. In
Velasquez's case, he was named after his mother.</p> 

<p>No one seemed to be certain what to call
him, but he generally wrote his name "Diego
de Silva Velasquez." His father was Rodriguez
de Silva, a lawyer, but in calling the boy
Velasquez the family followed a universal
Spanish custom of naming children after their
mothers.</p> 

<p>Little Velasquez was well taught in his
childhood; he studied many languages and
philosophy, for he was intended to be a lawyer
or something learned, anything but a painter.
The disappointment of parents in those days, 
<a name="353"></a>
when they found a child was likely to become
an artist is touching.</p> 

<p>Despite his equipment for a useful life,
according to the ideas of his parents, this little
chap was bound to become nothing but a
maker of pictures.</p> 

<p>Herrera was a bad-tempered master and
little Velasquez could not get on with him,
so after a year of harsh treatment, he went to
another master, Pacheco, but by that time
he had learned a secret that was to help make
his work great. Herrera had taught him to use
a brush with very long bristles, which had the
effect of spreading the paint, making it look
as if his "colours had floated upon the canvas,"
in a way that was the "despair of those who
came after him."</p> 

<p>Velasquez was born in Seville at a time when
about all the art of the world was Italian or
German; thus he became the creator of a new
school of painting.</p> 

<p>He stayed five years in Pacheco's studio and
pupil and master became very fond of each
other. Pacheco was not a great master--not 
so good as Herrera--but he was easy to
get on with, and knew a good deal about
painting, so that as Velasquez had the genius,
he was as well placed as he needed to be.</p> 

<p>In Pacheco's studio there was a peasant
boy whose face was very mobile, showed every
passing feeling; and Velasquez used to make
him laugh and weep, till, surprising some good 
<a name="354"></a>
expression, he would quickly sketch him.
With this excellent model, Velasquez did a
surprising amount of good work.</p> 

<p>Spain had just then conquered the far-off
provinces of Mexico and Peru, and was continually
receiving from its newly got lands
much valuable merchandise. Rapidly growing
rich, this Latin country loved art and all things
beautiful, so its money was bound to be spent
freely in such ways. Madrid had been made its
capital, and at that time there were few fine
pictures to be found there. The Moors who
had conquered Spain had forbidden picture
making, because it was contrary to their
religion to represent the human figure, or even
the figures of birds and beasts. Then the
Inquisition had hindered art by its rules,
one of which was that the Virgin Mary should
always be painted with her feet covered;
another, that all saints should be beardless.
There were many more exactions.</p> 

<p>While cathedrals were being built elsewhere,
the Moors had been in control of Spanish
lands, so that no cathedral had been built
there, and when Velasquez came upon the
scene the time of great cathedral building
was past. It had ceased to be the fashion.
Although there had been such painters as
Beneguette, Morales, Navarrette, and Ribera,
all Spanish and of considerable genius, they
had been too badly handicapped to make
painting a great art in Spain. When Madrid 
<a name="355"></a>
became the capital of Spain, it had no unusual
buildings, unless it was an old fortress of the
Moors, the Alcazar, Caesar's house, but the
nation was buying paintings from Italy, and
it began to beautify Madrid, which had the
advantage of the former Moorish luxury and
art, very beautiful, though not pictorial.</p> 

<p>In Madrid, then, there seemed to be great
opportunity for a fine artist like Velasquez,
and his master urged him to go there and try
his fortune. So he set out on mule-back,
attended by his slave, but unless he could get
the ear of the king, it was useless for him to
seek advancement in Madrid. Without the
king as patron at that time, an artist could
not accomplish much. After trying again and
again, Velasquez had to return to his old
master, without having seen the king; but
after a time a picture of his was seen by Philip
IV., and he was so much pleased with it
that he summoned the artist. Through his
minister, Olivares, he offered him $113.40 in
gold (fifty ducats) to pay his return expenses.
The next year he gave him $680.40 to move
his family to Madrid.</p> 

<p>At last the artist had found a place in the
rich city, and he went to live at the court
where the warmest friendship grew between
him and the king. The latter was an author
and something of a painter, so that they loved
the same things. This friendship lasted all
their lives, and they were together most of
<a name="356"></a>
the time, the king always being found, in
Velasquez's studio in the palace when his
duties did not call him elsewhere. During
the many many years--nearly thirty-seven--that 
Velasquez lived with Philip IV. he
employed himself in painting the scenes at
court. Thus he became the pictorial historian
of the Spanish capital. He was a man of good
disposition, kindly and generous in conduct
and in feeling, so that he was always in the
midst of friends and well-wishers.</p> 

<p>Philip IV. was indeed a noble companion,
but he was not a gay one, being known as the
king who never laughed--or at least whose
laughter was so rare, the few times he did
laugh became historic. One would expect
this serious and depressing atmosphere to have
had an effect upon a painter's art; but it
chanced that Rubens visited Spain, and there,
Velasquez being the one famous artist, it was
natural they should become interested in each
other. Rubens told Velasquez of the wonders of
Italian painting, till the Spaniard could think
of nothing else, and finally he begged Philip
to let him journey to Italy that he might see
some of those wonders for himself. The
request made the king unhappy at first, but at
last he gave his consent and Velasquez set out
for Italy. The king gave him money and
letters of introduction, and he went in company
with the Marquis of Spinola.</p> 

<p>After Velasquez had stayed eighteen months 
<a name="357"></a>
in Italy, Philip began to long for his friend
and sent for him to return. He came back
full of the stories of brilliant Italy, and
charmed the king completely.</p> 

<p>There is as absurd a story of Velasquez's
perfection in painting as that of Raphael's,
whose portrait of the pope, left upon the
terrace to dry, imposed upon passers by. It
is said of Velasquez's work that when he had
painted an admiral whom the king had
ordered to sea, and left it exposed in his studio,
the king, entering, thought it was the admiral
himself, and angrily inquired why he had not
put to sea according to orders. On the face
of them these stories are false, but they serve
to suggest the perfection of these artists'
paintings.</p> 

<p>Philip, being a melancholy man, had his
court full of jesters, poor misshapen creatures--dwarfs 
and hunchbacks--who were supposed
to appear "funny," and Velasquez, as
court painter, painted those whom he continually
saw about him, who formed the court
family. Thus we have pictures of strange
groups--dwarfs, little princesses, dressed precisely
as the elders were dressed, favourite
dogs, and Velasquez himself at his easel.</p> 

<p>In 1618, while still with his master, Pacheco,
he had married the master's daughter, a big,
portly woman. Before he left Seville he bad
two daughters.</p> 

<p>These were all the children he had, although 
<a name="358"></a>
he painted a picture of "Velasquez's Family"
which includes a great number of people.
The figures in that painting are the children of
his daughter, not his own; and this may
account for one biographer's statement that
the artist had "seven children." He was
devoted to and happy in his family of children
and grandchildren.</p> 

<p>He did not grow rich, but received regularly
during his life in Madrid, twenty gold ducats
($45.36) a month to live upon, and besides this
his medical attendance, lodging, and additional
payment for every picture. The one which
brought him this good fortune was an equestrian
portrait of Philip; first uncovered on
the steps of San Felipe. Everywhere the
people were delighted with it, poets sung of it,
and the king declared no other should ever
paint his portrait. This picture has long
since disappeared.</p> 

<p>In 1627 Velasquez won the prize for a picture
representing the expulsion of the Moors from
Spain and was rewarded by "being appointed
gentleman usher. To this was shortly afterward
added a daily allowance of twelve reals--the
same amount which was allowed to court
barbers--and ninety gold ducats ($204.12) a
year for dress, which was also paid to the
dwarfs, buffoons, and players about the king's
person--truly a curious estimate of talent at
the court of Spain."</p> 

<p>The record of Philip IV. with unpleasing,
<a name="359"></a>
even degenerate characters, about him, is
brightened by the thought of his loyalty to his
court painter and life-long friend. When the
king's favourites fell, those who had been
the friends of Velasquez, the artist loyally
remained their friend in adversity as he had
been while they were powerful. This constancy,
even to the royal enemies, was never
resented by Philip. He honoured the faithfulness
of his artist, even as he himself was
faithful in this friendship. Philip's court was
such that there was little to paint that was
ennobling, and so Velasquez lacked the inspiration
of such surroundings as the Italian
painters had.</p> 

<p>Philip IV. was hail-fellow-well-met with his
stablemen, his huntsmen, his cooks, and yet
he seems to have had no sense of humour,
was long faced and forbidding to look at,
and despite his strange habits considered
himself the most mighty and haughty man in
the world. He felt himself free to behave as
he chose, because he was Philip of Spain; and
he chose to do a great many absurd and outrageous
things. In all Philip's portraits, painted
by Velasquez, he wears a stiff white linen
collar of his own invention, and he was so
proud of this that he celebrated it by a festival.
He went in procession to church to thank God
for the wonderful blessing of the <i>Golilla</i>--the 
name of his collar. This unsightly thing
became the fashion, and all portraits of men of 
<a name="360"></a>
that time were painted with it. "In regard to
the wonderful structure of Philip's moustaches
it is said, that, to preserve their form they
were encased during the night in perfumed
leather covers called <i>bigoteras</i>." Such absurdities
in a king, who had the responsibilities of
a nation upon him, seem incredible.</p> 

<p>Velasquez made in all three journeys to
Italy, and the last one was on a mission for
the king, which was much to the latter's
credit. Philip had determined to have a fine
art gallery in Madrid, for Spain had by this
time many pictures, but no statuary; so he
commissioned his painter to buy whatever he
thought well of and <i>could</i> buy, in Italy. Hence
the artist set off again with his slave--the
same one with whom he had journeyed to
Madrid so long before. His name was Pareja,
and his master had already made an excellent
artist of him.</p> 

<p>They went to Genoa, thence to the great art-centres
of Italy, were received everywhere
with honour, and the artist bought wisely.
Velasquez did not care for Raphael's paintings
as much as for Titian's, and he said so to
Salvator Rosa, an honoured painter in Italy.</p> 

<p>While in Rome Velasquez painted the pope,
also his own slave, Pareja.</p> 

<p>When he returned to Spain he took with
him three hundred statues, but a large number
of them were nude, and the Spanish court, not
over particular about most things, was very
<a name="361"></a>
particular about naked statues, so that after
Philip's death, they nearly all disappeared.
After his return, and after the queen had
died and Philip had married again, Velasquez
was made quartermaster-general, no easy post
but not without honour, though it interfered
with his picture painting a good deal. He
had to look after the comfort of all the court,
and to see that the apartments it occupied,
at home or when it visited, were suitable.</p> 

<p>"Even the powerful king of Spain could not
make his favourite a belted knight without a
commission to inquire into the purity of his
lineage on both sides of the house. Fortunately,
the pedigree could bear scrutiny, as for
generations the family was found free from
all taint of heresy, from all trace of Jewish
or Moorish blood, and from contamination
from trade or commerce. The difficulty
connected with the fact that he was a painter
was got over by his being painter to the king
and by the declaration that he did not sell his
pictures."</p> 

<p>The red Cross of Santiago conferred upon
him by Philip, made Velasquez a knight and
freed him also from the rulings of the Inquisition,
which directed so largely what artists
could and could not do. Thus it is that we
come to have certain great pictures from
Velasquez's brush which could not otherwise
have been painted.</p> 

<p>This action of the king, setting free the artist, 
<a name="362"></a>
made two schools of art, of which the court
painter represented one; and Murillo the other,
under the command of the Church. Although
not so rich perhaps as Raphael, Velasquez
lived and died in plenty, while Murillo, the
artist of the Church of Rome, was a poverty-stricken
man.</p> 

<p>Finally, while in the midst of honours, and
fulfilling his official duty to the court of Spain,
Velasquez contracted the disease which killed
him. The Infanta, Maria Theresa, was to
wed Louis XIV., and the ceremony was to take
place on a swampy little island called the
Island of Pheasants. There he went to
decorate a pavilion and other places of display.
He became ill with a fever and died soon after
he returned to Madrid.</p> 

<p>He made his wife, his old master Pacheco's
daughter, his executor, and was buried in the
church of San Juan, in the vault of Fuensalida;
but within a week his devoted wife was dead, and
in eight days' time she was buried beside him.</p> 

<p>He left his affairs--accounts between him
and the court--badly entangled, and it was
many years before they were straightened out.
His many deeds of kindness lived after him.
He made of his slave a good artist and a
devoted friend, and by his efforts the slave
became a freedman. The story of his kindly
help to Murillo when that exquisite painter
came, unknown and friendless to Madrid, has
already been told.</p> 

<p><a name="363"></a>
The Church where Velasquez was buried was
destroyed by the French in 1811, and all trace
of the resting place of the great Spanish artist
is forever lost to us.</p> 

<p>He is called not only "painter to the king,"
but "king of painters."</p> 

<center>PLATE--EQUESTRIAN PORTRAIT OF DON
BALTHASAR CARLOS.</center>

<p>Philip of Spain had long prayed for a son
and when at last one was granted him his pride
in his young heir was unbounded. The little
Don Carlos was not unworthy, for he was a
cheerful, hearty boy, trained to horsemanship,
from his fourth year, for his father was a noted
rider and had the best instructors for his son.
The prince was a brave hunter too and we are
told that he shot a wild boar when he was but
nine years of age. In this portrait which is
in the Museo del Prado he is six years old, and
it was neither the first nor the last that
Velasquez made of him. It was one of the
court painter's chief duties to see that the heir
to the throne was placed upon canvas at
every stage of his career, and he painted him
from two years of age till his lamented death
at sixteen.</p> 

<p>The young prince wears in this picture a
green velvet jacket with white sleeves and his
scarf is crimson embroidered with gold. The
lively pony is a light chestnut and the foreshortening
<a name="364"></a>
of its body must be noticed. The
steady grave eyes of the lad are gazing far
ahead as they would naturally be if he were
riding rapidly, but his princely dignity is
shown in his firm seat in the saddle and his
manner of holding his marshal's batôn.</p> 

<p>The great art of the painter is also shown
in the way he subordinates the landscape
to the figure. He will not allow even a tree
to come near the young horseman, but brings
his young activity into vivid contrast with the
calm peacefulness of the distant view.</p> 

<p>With the death of Don Carlos the downfall
of his father's dynasty was assured, though
for a time his little sister, the Infanta Maria
Theresa, was upheld as the heiress. She
married Louis XIV. and had a weary time
of it in France. Velasquez painted her picture
too, in the grown up dress of the children of
that day. It is in the Vienna Gallery. Among
his best known pictures are "The Surrender
of Breda," "Alessandro del Borro," and
"Philip IV."</p> 

<p><a name="365"></a></p>
<h1>XLII</h1>

<h1>PAUL VERONESE (PAOLO CAGLIARI)</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Vay-ro-nay'zay and pah'o-lah cal-ee-ah'ree)<br>
<i>Venetian School</i><br>
1528-1588<br>
<i>Pupil of Titian</i> </center>

<p>"One has never done well enough, when
one can do better; one never knows
enough when he can learn more!"</p>

<p>This was the motto of Paul Veronese. This
artist was born in Verona--whence he took
his name--and spent much of his life with the
monks in the monastery of St. Sebastian.</p> 

<p>His father was a sculptor, and taught his
son. Veronese himself was a lovable fellow,
had a kind feeling for all, and in return
received the good will of most people. When
he first went to Venice to study he took letters
of introduction to the monks of St. Sebastian,
and finally went to live with them, for his uncle
was prior of the monastery, and it was upon its
walls that he did his first work in Venice. His
subject was the story of Esther, which he
illustrated completely.</p> 

<p>He became known in time as "the most
magnificent of magnificent painters." He
loved the gaieties of Venice; the lords and
ladies; the exquisite colouring; the feasting 
<a name="366"></a>
and laughter, and everything he painted,
showed this taste. When he chose great
religious subjects he dressed all his figures in
elegant Venetian costumes, in the midst of
elegant Venetian scenes. His Virgins, or other
Biblical people, were not Jews of Palestine,
but Venetians of Venice, but so beautiful were
they and so inspiring, that nobody cared to
criticise them on that score. He loved to
paint festival scenes such as, "The Marriage
at Cana," "Banquet in Levi's House," or
"Feast in the House of Simon." He painted
nothing as it could possibly have been, but
everything as he would have liked it to be.</p> 

<p>Into the "Wedding Feast at Cana," where
Jesus was said to have turned the water into
wine, he introduced a great host of his friends,
people then living. Titian is there, and several
reigning kings and queens, including Francis
I. of France and his bride, for whom the
picture was made. This treatment of the Bible
story startles the mind, but delights the eye.</p> 

<p>It was said that his "red recurred like a
joyful trumpet blast among the silver gray
harmonies of his paintings."</p> 

<p>Muther, one who has written brilliantly
about him, tells us that "Veronese seems to
have come into the world to prove that the
painter need have neither head nor heart, but
only a hand, a brush, and a pot of paint in
order to clothe all the walls of the world with
oil paintings" and that "if he paints Mary, 
<a name="367"></a>
she is not the handmaid of the Lord or even
the Queen of Heaven, but a woman of the
world, listening with approving smile to the
homage of a cavalier. In light red silk morning
dress, she receives the Angel of the Annunciation
and hears without surprise--for she has
already heard it--what he has to say; and at
the Entombment she only weeps in order to
keep up appearances."</p>

<p>Such criticism raises a smile, but it is quite
just, and what is more, the Veronese pictures
are so beautiful that one is not likely to quarrel
with the painter for having more good feeling
than understanding. His joyous temperament
came near to doing him harm, for he was summoned
before the Inquisition for the manner
in which he had painted "The Last Supper."</p> 

<p>After the Esther pictures in St. Sebastian,
the artist painted there the "Martyrdom of
St. Sebastian," and there is a tradition that
he did his work while hiding in the monastery
because of some mischief of which he had been
guilty.</p> 

<p>At that time he was not much more than
twenty-six or eight, while the great painter
Tintoretto was forty-five, yet his work in
St. Sebastian made him as famous as the older
artist.</p> 

<p>There is very little known of the private
affairs of Veronese. He signed a contract
for painting the "Marriage at Cana," for the
refectory of the monastery of St. Giorgio
<a name="368"></a>
Maggiore, in June 1562, and that picture,
stupendous as it is, was finished eighteen
months later. He received $777.60 for it, as
well as his living while he was at work upon it,
and a tun of wine. One picture he is supposed
to have left behind him at a house where he
had been entertained, as an acknowledgment
of the courtesy shown him.</p> 

<p>Paul had a brother, Benedetto, ten years
younger than himself, and it is said that he
greatly helped Paul in his work, by designing
the architectural backgrounds of his pictures.
If that is so, Benedetto must have been an
artist of much genius, for those backgrounds
in the paintings are very fine.</p> 

<p>Veronese married, and had two sons; the
younger being named Carletto. He was also
the favourite, and an excellent artist, who did
some fine painting, but he died while he was
still young. Gabriele the elder son, also painted,
but he was mainly a man of affairs, and attended
to business rather than to art.</p> 

<p>Veronese was a loving father and brother,
and beyond doubt a happy man. After his
death both his sons and his brother worked upon
his unfinished paintings, completing them for
him. He was buried in the Church of St.
Sebastian.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE MARRIAGE AT CANA</center>

<p>This painting is most characteristic of
Veronese's methods. He has no regard for 
<a name="369"></a>
the truth in presenting the picture story. At
the marriage at Cana everybody must have
been very simply dressed, and there could
have been no beautiful architecture, such as
we see in the picture. In the painting we
find courtier-like men and women dressed
in beautiful silks. Some of the costumes
appear to be a little Russian in character, the
others Venetian; and Jesus Himself wears
the loose every-day robe of the pastoral people
to whom he belonged. We think of luxury
and rich food and a splendid house when we
look at this painting, when as a matter of fact
nothing of this sort could have belonged to the
scene which Veronese chose to represent.
Perhaps no painter was more lacking in
imagination than was Veronese in painting
this particular picture. He chose to place
historical or legendary characters, in the midst
of a scene which could not have existed
co-incidently with the event.</p> 

<p>Among his other pictures are "Europa and
the Bull," "Venice Enthroned," and the
"Presentation of the Family of Darius to
Alexander."</p> 

<p><a name="370"></a></p>
<h1>XLIII</h1>

<h1>LEONARDO DA VINCI</h1>

<center>(Pronounced Lay-o-nar'do dah Veen'chee)<br>
<i>Florentine School</i><br>
1451-1519<br>
<i>Pupil of Verrocchio</i></center>

<p>Leonardo da Vinci was the natural
son of a notary, Ser Pier, and he was
born at the Castello of Vinci, near Empoli.
From the very hour that he was apprenticed
to his master, Verrocchio, he proved that he
was the superior of his master in art. Da
Vinci was one of the most remarkable men who
ever lived, because he not only did an extraordinary
number of things, but he did all of
them well.</p> 

<p>He was an engineer, made bridges, fortifications,
and plans which to this day are
brilliant achievements.</p> 

<p>He was a sculptor, and as such did beautiful
work.</p> 

<p>He was a naturalist, and as such was of use
to the world.</p> 

<p>He was an author and left behind him books
written backward, of which he said that only
he who was willing to devote enough study to
them to read them in that form, was able to
profit by what he had written.</p>

<p><a name="371"></a>
Finally, and most wonderfully, he was a
painter.</p> 

<p>He had absolute faith in himself. Before
he constructed his bridge he said that he
could build the best one in the world, and a
king took him at his word and was not
disappointed by the result.</p> 

<p>He stated that he could paint the finest
picture in the world--but let us read what he
himself said of it, in so sure and superbly
confident a way that it robbed his statement
of anything like foolish vanity. Such as he
could afford to speak frankly of his greatness,
without appearing absurd. He wrote:</p> 

<p>"In time of peace, I believe I can equal
anyone in architecture, in constructing public
and private buildings, and in conducting water
from one place to another. I can execute
sculpture, whether in marble, bronze, or terra
cotta, and in painting I can do as much as
any other man, be he who he may. Further,
I could engage to execute the bronze horse in
eternal memory of your father and the illustrious
house of Sforza." He was writing to Ludovico
Sforza whose house then ruled at
Milan. "If any of the above-mentioned
things should appear to you impossible or
impracticable, I am ready to make trial of
them in your park, or in any other place that
may please your excellency, to whom I
commend myself in proud humility."</p> 

<p>Leonardo's experiments with oils and the 
<a name="372"></a>
mixing of his pigments has nearly lost to us
his most remarkable pictures. His first fourteen
years of work as an artist were spent in
Milan, where he was employed to paint by the
Duke of Milan, and never again was his life
so peaceful; it was ever afterward full of
change. He went from Milan to Venice, to
Rome, to Florence, and back to Milan where
his greatest work was done.</p> 

<p>While Leonardo was a baby he lived in the
Castle of Vinci. He was beautiful as a child
and very handsome as a man. When a child
he wore long curls reaching below his waist.
He was richly clothed, and greatly beloved.
His body seemed no less wonderful than his
mind. He wished to learn everything, and his
memory was so wonderful that he remembered
all that he undertook to learn. His muscles
were so powerful that he could bend iron, and
all animals seemed to love him. It is said he
could tame the wildest horses. Indeed his
life and accomplishments read as if he were one
enchanted. One writer tells us that "he
never could bear to see any creature cruelly
treated, and sometimes he would buy little
caged birds that he might just have the
pleasure of opening the doors of their cages,
and setting them at liberty."</p> 

<p>The story told of his first known work is
that his master, being hurried in finishing a
picture, permitted Leonardo to paint in an
angel's head, and that it was so much better 
<a name="373"></a>
than the rest of the picture, that Verrocchio
burned his brushes and broke his palette,
determined never to paint again, but probably
this is a good deal of a fairy tale and one that
is not needed to impress us with the artist's
greatness, since there is so much to prove it
without adding fable to fact.</p>

<p>Leonardo was also a very far seeing inventor
and most ingenious. He made
mechanical toys that "worked" when they
were wound up. He even devised a miniature
flying machine; however, history does
not tell us whether it flew or not. He
thought out the uses of steam as a motive
power long before Fulton's time.</p> 

<p>Leonardo haunted the public streets, sketchbook
in hand, and when attracted by a face,
would follow till he was able to transfer it to
paper. Ida Prentice Whitcomb, who has
compiled many anecdotes of da Vinci, says
that it was also his habit to invite peasants to
his house, and there amuse them with funny
stories till he caught some fleeting expression
of mirth which he was pleased to reproduce.</p> 

<p>As a courtier Leonardo was elegant and full
of amusing devices. He sang, accompanying
himself on a silver lute, which he had had
fashioned in imitation of a horse's skull.
After he attached himself to the court of the
Duke of Milan, his gift of invention was
constantly called into use, and one of the
surprises he had in store for the Duke's guests 
<a name="374"></a>
was a great mechanical lion, which being wound
up, would walk into the presence of the court,
open its mouth and disclose a bunch of flowers
inside.</p> 

<p>Leonardo worked very slowly upon his
paintings, because he was never satisfied with
a work, and would retouch it day after day.
Then, too, he was a man of moods, like most
geniuses, and could not work with regularity.
The picture of the "Last Supper" was painted
in Milan, by order of his patron, the Duke,
and there are many picturesque stories written
of its production. It was painted upon the
refectory wall of a Dominican convent, the
Santa Maria delle Grazie; and at first the
work went off well, and the artist would remain
upon his scaffolding from morning till night,
absorbed in his painting. It is said that at
such times he neither ate nor drank, forgetting
all but his great work. He kept postponing
the painting of two heads--Christ and Judas.</p> 

<p>He had worked painstakingly and with
enthusiasm till that point, but deferred
what he was hardly willing to trust himself
to perform. He had certain conceptions of
these features which he almost feared to
execute, so tremendous was his purpose. He
let that part of the work go, month after
month, and having already spent two years
upon the picture, the monks began to urge
him to a finish. He was not the man to endure
much pressure, and the more they urged the
<a name="375"></a>
more resentful he became. Finally, he began
to feel a bitter dislike for the prior, the man
who annoyed him most. One day, when the
prior was nagging him about the picture,
wanting to know why he didn't get to work
upon it again, and when would it be finished,
Leonardo said suavely: "If you will sit for the
head of Judas, I'll be able to finish the picture
at once." The prior was enraged, as Leonardo
meant he should be; but Leonardo is said
actually to have painted him in as Judas.
Afterward he painted in the face of Christ
with haste and little care, simply because he
despaired of ever doing the wonderful face that
his art soul demanded Christ should wear.</p> 

<p>The one bitter moment in Leonardo's life,
in all probability, was when he came in dire
competition with Michael Angelo. When he
removed to Florence he was required to
submit sketches for the Town Hall--the
Palazzo Vecchio--and Michael Angelo was
his rival. The choice fell to Angelo, and
after a life of supremacy Leonardo could not
endure the humiliation with grace. Added
to disappointment, someone declared that
Leonardo's powers were waning because he
was growing old. This was more than he could
bear, and he left Italy for France, where the
king had invited him to come and spend the
remainder of his life. Francis I. had wished
to have the picture in the Milan monastery
taken to France, but that was not to be done.</p> 

<p><a name="376"></a>
Doubtless the king expected Leonardo to do
some equally great work after he became the
nation's guest.</p> 

<p>Before leaving Italy, Leonardo had painted
his one other "greatest" picture--"La
Gioconda" (Mona Lisa)-and he took
that wonderful work with him to France,
where the King purchased it for $9,000, and
to this day it hangs in the Louvre.</p> 

<p>But Leonardo was to do no great work in
France, for in truth he was growing old. His
health had failed, and although he was still
a dandy and court favourite, setting the
fashion in clothing and in the cut of hair and
beard, he was no longer the brilliant, active
Leonardo.</p> 

<p>Bernard Berensen, has written of him:
"Painting ... was to Leonardo so little
of a preoccupation that we must regard it
as merely a mode of expression used at
moments by a man of universal genius." By
which Berensen means us to understand that
Leonardo was so brilliant a student and
inventor, so versatile, that art was a mere
pastime. "No, let us not join in the
reproaches made to Leonardo for having
painted so little; because he had so much more
to do than to paint, he has left all of us heirs
to one or two of the supremest works of art
ever created."</p> 

<p>Another author writes that "in Leonardo da
Vinci every talent was combined in one man."</p> 

<p><a name="377"></a>
Leonardo was the third person of the wonderful
trinity of Florentine painters, Raphael and
Michael Angelo being the other two.</p> 

<p>He knew so much that he never doubted his
own powers, but when he died, after three
years in France, he left little behind him, and
that little he had ever declared to be unfinished--the 
"Mona Lisa" and the "Last Supper."
He died in the Château de Cloux, at Amboise,
and it is said that "sore wept the king when
he heard that Leonardo was dead."</p> 

<p>In Milan, near the Cathedral, there stands
a monument to his memory, and about it are
placed the statues of his pupils. To this day
he is wonderful among the great men of the
world.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE LAST SUPPER</center>

<p>This, as we have said, is in the former convent
of Santa Maria delle Grazie, in Milan. It was
the first painted story of this legendary event
in which natural and spontaneous action on
the part of all the company was presented.</p> 

<p>To-day the picture is nearly ruined by smoke,
time, and alterations in the place, for a great
door lintel has been cut into the picture.
Leonardo used the words of the Christ: "Verily,
I say unto you that one of you shall betray
me," as the starting point for this painting.
It is after the utterance of these words that
we see each of the disciples questioning 
<a name="378"></a>
horrified, frightened, anxious, listening, 
angered--all these emotions being expressed
by the face or gestures of the hands or pose of
the figures. It is a most wonderful picture and
it seems as if the limit of genius was to be found
in it.</p> 

<p>The company is gathered in a half-dark hall,
the heads outlined against the evening light
that comes through the windows at the back.
We look into a room and seem to behold the
greatest tragedy of legendary history: treachery
and sorrow and consternation brought to
Jesus of Nazareth and his comrades.</p> 

<p>This great picture was painted in oil instead
of in "distemper," the proper kind of mixture
for fresco, and therefore it was bound
to be lost in the course of time. Besides, it
has known more than ordinary disaster. The
troops of Napoleon used this room, the convent
refectory, for a stable, and that did not do the
painting any good. The reason we have
so complete a knowledge of it, however, is that
Leonardo's pupils made an endless number
of copies of it, and thus it has found its way
into thousands of homes. The following is
the order in which Leonardo placed the disciples
at the table: Jesus of Nazareth in the
centre, Bartholomew the last on the left,
after him is James, Andrew, Peter, Judas--who 
holds the money bag--and John. On
the right, next to Jesus, comes Thomas, the
doubting one; James the Greater, Philip,
<a name="379"></a>
Matthew, Thaddeus, and Simon. Jesus has
just declared that one of them shall betray
him, and each in his own way seems to be
asking "Lord, is it I?" In the South Kensington
Museum in London will be found
carefully preserved a description, written out
fairly in Leonardo's own hand, to guide him
in painting the Last Supper. It is most
interesting and we shall quote it: "One, in the
act of drinking puts down his glass and turns
his head to the speaker. Another twisting
his fingers together, turns to his companion,
knitting his eyebrows. Another, opening his
hands and turning the palm toward the
spectator, shrugs his shoulders, his mouth
expressing the liveliest surprise. Another
whispers in the ear of a companion, who turns
to listen, holding in one hand a knife, and in
the other a loaf, which he has cut in two.
Another, turning around with a knife in his
hand, upsets a glass upon the table and looks;
another gasps in amazement; another leans
forward to look at the speaker, shading his
eyes with his hand; another, drawing back
behind the one who leans forward, looks into
the space between the wall and the stooping
disciple."</p> 

<p>Other paintings of Leonardo's are: "Mona
Lisa," "Head of Medusa," "Adoration of the
Magi," and the "Madonna della Caraffa."</p>

<p><a name="380"></a></p>
<h1>XLIV</h1>

<h1>JEAN ANTOINE WATTEAU</h1>

<center>(Pronounced in French, Vaht-toh; English, Wot-toh)<br>
<i>French (Genre) School</i><br>
1684-1721<br>
<i>Pupil of Gillot and Audran</i></center>

<p>Watteau's father was a tiler in a
Flemish town--Valenciennes. He
meant that his son should be a carpenter, but
that son tramped from Valenciennes to Paris
with the purpose of becoming a great painter.
He did more, he became a "school" of painting,
all by himself.</p> 

<p>There is no sadder story among artists than
that of this lowly born genius. He was not
good to look upon, being the very opposite of
all that he loved, having no grace or charm
in appearance. He had a drooping mouth,
red and bony hands, and a narrow chest with
stooping shoulders. Because of a strange
sensitiveness he lived all his life apart from
those he would have been happy with, for
he mistrusted his own ugliness, and thought
he might be a burden to others.</p> 

<p>Such a man has painted the gayest, gladdest,
most delicate and exquisite pictures
imaginable.</p> 

<p>He entered Paris as a young man, without
<a name="381"></a>
friends, without money or connections of any
kind, and after wandering forlornly, about the
great city, he found employment with a dealer
who made hundreds of saints for out-of-town
churches.</p> 

<p>It is said that for this first employer
Watteau made dozens and dozens of pictures
of St. Nicholas; and when we think of the
beautiful figures he was going to make, pictures
that should delight all the world, there seems
something tragic in the monotony and common-placeness
of that first work he was forced by
poverty to do. Certainly St. Nicholas brought
one man bread and butter, even if he forgot
him at Christmas time.</p> 

<p>After that hard apprenticeship, Watteau's
condition became slightly better. He had
been employed near the Pont Notre Dame, at
three francs a week, but now in the studio
of a scene painter, Gillot, he did work of coarse
effect, very different from that exquisite school
of art which he was to bring into being. After
Gillot's came the studio of Claude Audran,
the conservator of the Luxembourg, and with
him Watteau did decorative work. In reality
he had no master, learned from nobody,
grovelled in poverty, and at first, forced a
living from the meanest sources. With this in
mind, it remains a wonder that he should
paint as no other ever could, scenes of exquisite
beauty and grace; scenes of high life,
courtiers and great ladies assembled in lovely
<a name="382"></a>
landscapes, doing elegant and charming things,
dressed in unrivalled gowns and costumes.
Until Watteau went to the Luxembourg he
had seen absolutely nothing of refined or
gracious living. He had come from country
scenes, and in Paris had lived among workmen
and bird-fanciers, flower sellers, hucksters
and the like. This is very likely the secret of
his peculiar art.</p> 

<p>Watteau would have been a wonderful
artist under any circumstances, no matter what
sort of pictures he had painted; but circumstances
gave his imagination a turn toward
the exquisite in colourand composition. Doubtless
when he first looked down from the palace
windows of the Luxembourg and saw gorgeous
women and handsome men languishing and
coquetting and revelling in a life of ease and
beauty, he was transported. He must have
thought himself in fairyland, and the impulse
to paint, to idealise the loveliness that he saw,
must have been greater in him than it would
have been in one who had lived so long among
such scenes that they had become familiar
with them.</p> 

<p>After Watteau there were artists who tried
to do the kind of work he had done, but no
one ever succeeded. Watteau clothed all his
shepherdesses in fine silken gowns, with a
plait in the back, falling from the shoulders,
and to-day we have a fashion known as the
"Watteau back"--gowns made with this 
<a name="383"></a>
shoulder-plait. He put filmy laces or softest
silks upon his dairy maids, as upon his court
ladies, dressing his figures exquisitely, and in
the loveliest colours. He had suffered from
poverty and from miserable sights, so when he
came to paint pictures, he determined to
reproduce only the loveliest objects.</p> 

<p>At that time French fashions were very
unusual, and it was quite the thing for ladies
to hold a sort of reception while at their toilet.
A description of one of these affairs was
written by Madame de Grignon to her daughter:
"Nothing can be more delightful than to assist
at the toilet of Madame la Duchesse (de
Bourgoyne), and to watch her arrange her hair.
I was present the other day. She rose at
half past twelve, put on her dressing gown,
and set to work to eat a <i>méringue</i>. She ate
the powder and greased her hair. The whole
formed an excellent breakfast and charming
<i>coiffure</i>." Watteau has caught the spirit
of this strange airy, artificial, incongruous
existence. His ladies seem to be eating
<i>meringues</i> and powdering their hair and living
on a diet of the combination. One hardly
knows which is toilet and which is real life
in looking at his paintings.</p> 

<p>He quarreled with Audran at the Luxembourg,
and having sold his first picture, he
went back to his Valenciennes home, to see
his former acquaintances, no doubt being a
little vain of his performance.</p> 

<p><a name="384"></a>
After that he painted another picture
which sold well enough to keep him from
poverty for a time, and on his return to
Paris he was warmly greeted by a celebrated
and influential artist, Crozat. Watteau tried
for a prize, and though his picture came
second it had been seen by the Academy
committee.</p> 

<p>His greatness was acknowledged, and he
was immediately admitted to the Academy
and granted a pension by the crown, with
which he was able to go to Italy, the Mecca
of all artists the world over.</p> 

<p>From Italy he went to London, but there
the fogs and unsuitable climate made his
disease much worse and he hurried back to
France, where he went to live with a friend who
was a picture dealer. It was then that he
painted a sign for this friend, Gersaint, a sign
so wonderful that it is reckoned in the history
of Watteau's paintings.</p> 

<p>Soon he grew so sensitive over his illness,
that he did not wish to remain near his dearest
friends, but one of them, the Abbé Haranger,
insisted upon looking after his welfare, and
got lodgings for him at Nogent, where he could
have country air and peace.</p> 

<p>Watteau died very soon after going to Nogent
in July, 1721, and he left nine thousand livres
to his parents, and his paintings to his best
friends, the Abbé, Gersaint, Monsieur Henin,
and Monsieur Julienne. He is called the "first 
<a name="385"></a>
French painter" and so he was--though he
was Flemish, by birth.</p> 

<center>PLATE--FÊTE CHAMPÊTRE</center>

<p>This exquisite picture displays nearly all
the characteristics of Watteau's painting. He
was said to paint with "honey and gold," and
his method was certainly remarkable. His
clear, delicate colours were put upon a canvas
first daubed with oil, and he never cleaned his
palette. His "oil-pot was full of dust and dirt
and mixed with the washings of his brush."
One would think that only the most slovenly
results could come from such habits of work,
but the artist made a colour which no one could
copy, and that was a sort of creamy, opalescent
white. This was original with Watteau, and
most beautiful.</p> 

<p>In this "Fête Champêtre," which is now in
the National Gallery at Edinburgh, he paints
an elegant group of ladies and gentlemen
indulging in an open air dance of some sort.
One couple are doing steps facing one another,
to the music of a set of pipes, while the rest
flirt and talk, decorously, round about. There
is no boisterous rusticity here; all is dainty and
refined.</p> 

<p>The same characteristics are to be found in
Watteau's other pictures such as, "Embarkation
for the Island of Cythera," "The Judgment
of Paris," and "Gay Company in a Park."</p> 

<p><a name="386"></a></p>
<h1>XLV</h1>

<h1>SIR BENJAMIN WEST</h1>

<center><i>American</i><br>
1738-1820<br>
<i>Pupil of the Italian School</i></center>

<p>The beautiful smile of his little niece
helped to make this man an artist.
This is the story:</p> 

<p>Benjamin West was born down in Pennsylvania,
at Westdale, a small village in the township
of Springfield, of Quaker parentage.
The family was poor perhaps, but in America
at a time when everybody was struggling with
a new civilisation it did not seem to be such
binding poverty as the same condition in
Europe would have been. Benjamin had a
married sister whose baby he greatly loved,
and he gave it devoted attention. One day
while it was sleeping and the undiscovered
artist was sitting beside it he saw it smile, and
the beauty of the smile inspired him to keep it
forever if he could. He got paper and pencil
and forthwith transferred that "angel's
whisper."</p> 

<p>No child of to-day can imagine the difficulties 
a boy must have had in those days in America, 
to get an art education, and having learned 
his art, how impossible it was to live by it. 
<a name="387"></a>
Men were busy making a new country and
pictures do not take part in such pioneer work;
they come later. Still, there were bound to be
born artistic geniuses then, just as there were
men for the plough and men for politics and
for war. He who happened to be the artist
was the Quaker boy, West.</p> 

<p>He took his first inspiration from the
Cherokees, for it was the Indian in all the
splendour of his strength and straightness that
formed West's ideal of beautiful physique.</p> 

<p>When he first saw the Apollo Belvedere,
he exclaimed: "A young Mohawk warrior!"
to the disgust of every one who heard him, but
he meant to compliment the noblest of forms.
Europeans did not know how magnificent a
figure the "young Mohawk warrior" could be;
but West knew.</p> 

<p>After his Indian impetus toward art he went
to Philadelphia, and settled himself in a studio,
where he painted portraits. His sitters went
to him out of curiosity as much as anything
else, but at last a Philadelphia gentleman,
who knew what art meant, recognised Benjamin
West's talent, and made some arrangement by
which the young man went to Italy.</p> 

<p>Life began to look beautiful and promising
to the Pennsylvanian. He was in Italy for
three years, and in that home of art the young
man who had made the smile of his sister's
sleeping baby immortal was given highest
honours. He was elected a member of all the 
<a name="388"></a>
great art societies in Italy, and studied with
the best artists of the time. He began to
earn his living, we may be sure, and then he
went to England, where, in spite of the prejudice
there must have been against the colonists,
he became at once a favourite of George III.,
a friend of Reynolds and of all the English
artists of repute--unless perhaps of Gainsborough,
who made friends with none.</p> 

<p>West was appointed "historical painter"
to his Majesty, George III., and he was chosen
to be one of four who should draw plans for
a Royal Academy. He was one of the first
members of that great organisation, and when
Sir Joshua Reynolds, the first president, died,
West became president, remaining in office
for twenty-eight years.</p> 

<p>About that time came the Peace of Amiens,
and West was able to go to Paris, where he
could see the greatest art treasures of Europe,
which had been brought to France from every
quarter as a consequence of the war. At
that time, before Paris began to return
these, and when she had just pillaged every
great capital of Europe, artists need take but
a single trip to see all the art worth seeing
in the whole world.</p> 

<p>After a long service in the Academy, West
quarreled with some of the Academicians and
sent in his resignation; but his fellow artists
had too much sense and good feeling to accept
it, and begged him to reconsider his action. 
<a name="389"></a>
He did so, and returned to his place as president.
When West was sixty-five years old he made
a picture, "Christ Healing the Sick," which
he meant to give to the Quakers in Philadelphia,
who were trying to get funds with which to
build a hospital. This picture was to be sold
for the fund; but it was no sooner finished and
exhibited in London before being sent to
America, than it was bought for 3,000 guineas
for Great Britain. West did not contribute
this money to the hospital fund, but he made
a replica for the Quakers, and sent that instead
of the original.</p> 

<p>West was eighty-two years old when he
died and he was buried in St. Paul's Cathedral
after a distinguished and honoured life. Since
Europe gave him his education and also
supported him most of his life, we must consider
him more English than American, his
birth on American soil being a mere accident.</p> 

<center>PLATE--THE DEATH OF WOLFE</center>

<p>This death scene upon the Plains of Abraham,
without the walls of Quebec in 1759, must not
be taken as a realistic picture of an historic
event. West drew upon his imagination and
upon portraits of the prominent men supposed
to have been grouped around the dying
general, and he has produced a dramatic
effect. One can imagine it is the two with
fingers pointing backward who have just 
<a name="390"></a>
brought the memorable tidings, "They run!
They run!"</p> 

<p>"Who run?" asks Wolfe, for when he had
fallen the issues of the fight were still undecided.
"The French, sir. They give way
everywhere." "Thank God! I die in peace,"
replied the English hero. At a time when
the momentous results of this battle had set
the whole of Great Britain afire with enthusiasm
it is easy to understand the popularity of a
picture such as this. It was sold in 1791 for
£28, and now belongs to the Duke of Westminster.
There is a replica of it in the Queen's
drawing-room at Hampton Court.</p> 

<p>Another famous historical picture by West
is "The Battle of La Hogue."</p> 

<p><a name="391"></a></p>
<h1>INDEX</h1>

<p>About, Edmund<br>
Academia, Florence<br>
Academy, French<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Rome,<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Royal, London,<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Venice<br>
"Acis and Galatea"<br>
Adoration of the Magi<br>
"Adoration of the Shepherds" <br>
"After a Summer Shower"<br>
"Afternoon"<br>
Albert, King<br>
"Alessandro del Borro"<br>
Alexander VI.<br>
Alice, Princess<br>
Allegri, Antonio. <i>See</i> Correggi<br>
Allegri, Pompino<br>
"Ambassadors, The"<br>
"American Mustangs"<br>
"Anatomy Lesson, The"<br>
Andrea del Sarto<br>
Angelo, Michael<br>
"Angels' Heads"<br>
"Angelas, The"<br>
Anguisciola, Sofonisba<br>
Anne of Cleves<br>
Anne of Saxony<br>
Annunciata, cloister of the<br>
"Annunciation, The"<br>
"Ansidei Madonna, The"<br>
"Antiope"<br>
Apocalypse<br>
Apollo Belvedere<br>
Apostles, the Four<br>
Apostles' Heads<br>
Appelles<br>
"Archipelago"<br>
Arena Chapel<br>
Arrivabene Chapel<br>
"Artist's Two Sons, The"<br>
"Arundel Castle and Mill"<br>
"Assumption of the Virgin"<br>
"At the Well"<br>
Audran<br>
Augusta, Princess<br>
"Avenue, Middelharnis, Holland"<br>
"Awakened Conscience, The"</p>

<p>"Bacchanal"<br>
"Bacchus and Ariadne"<br>
Balzac<br>
"Banquet in Levi's House"<br>
"Baptism of Christ, The"<br>
Barbizon<br>
Barile<br>
Barry, James<br>
Bartoli d'Angiolini<br>
Bartolommeo, Fra<br>
Bassano<br>
"Bathers"<br>
"Battle of La Hogue"<br>
Beaumont, Sir George<br>
Beaux-Arts, l'Ecole des<br>
Begarelli<br>
Bellini, Gentile<br>
Bellini, Giovanni<br>
Bembo, Cardinal<br>
Beneguette<br>
"Bent Tree"<br>
Bentivoglio, Cardinal<br>
Berck, Derich<br>
Berensen, Bernard<br>
Bergholt, East<br>
"Berkshire Hills"<br>
"Bianca"<br>
Bicknell, Maria<br>
Bigio, Francia<br>
Bigordi. <i>See</i> Ghirlandajo<br>
Bird<br>
"Birth of the Virgin"<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Andrea del Sarto)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Murillo)<br>
"Birth of Venus"<br>
Blanc, Charles<br>
"Blessed Herman Joseph, The"<br>
"Bligh Shore"<br>
"Blue Boy, The"<br>
Böcklin, Arnold<br>
"Boat-Building"<br>
Boleyn, Anne<br>
Bolton, Mrs. Sarah K.<br>
<a name="392"></a>Bonheur, Marie-Rosea<br>
Bonheur, Raymond B. <br>
Bordeaux<br>
Bordone. <i>See</i> Giotto <br>
Borghese Palace <br>
Borgia family<br>
Borgia, Lucretia <br>
Botticelli<br>
Boudin <br>
Bouguereau, William Adolphe<br>
"Boy at the Stile, The"<br>
Brancacci Chapel<br>
Brant, Isabella<br>
Breton, Jules<br>
Brice, J. B.<br>
Brouwer<br>
Browning<br>
Brunellesco<br>
"Brutus"<br>
Buckingham, Duke of<br>
Buonarroti. <i>See</i> Angelo Michael<br>
Burgundy, Duchess of<br>
Burke, Edmund<br>
Burne-Jones, Sir Edward <br>
Burr, Margaret</p>

<p>Caffin<br>
Cagliari, Benedetto<br>
Cagliari, Carletto <br>
Cagliari, Gabriele <br>
Cagliari, Paolo. <i>See</i> Veronese <br>
Cambridge, University of <br>
"Camels at Rest"<br>
Campagna<br>
Campana, Pedro <br>
Campanile, Florence <br>
Canova<br>
Caprese<br>
"Capture of Samson"<br>
Capuchin Church<br>
Capuchin Convent <br>
Carlos, Don <br>
"Carmencita"<br>
Carmine, Church of the<br>
"Carthage"<br>
Castillo, Juan del <br>
Cecelia, wife of Titian <br>
Cellini<br>
Centennial Exhibition<br>
Chamberlain, Arthur <br>
"Chant d'Amour"<br>
Chantry, Sir Francis <br>
"Charity"<br>
Charles, I.<br>
Charles V.<br>
Charles X. <br>
Cherokees <br>
"Chess Players, The" <br>
"Children of Charles I." <br>
"Christ Healing the Sick" <br>
"Christ in the Temple" <br>
"Christina of Denmark"  <br>
Church<br>
Cibber, Theophilus<br>
Cimabue <br>
Claude <br>
"Cleopatra Landing at Tarsus"<br>
"Cock Fight"<br>
Cogniet, Léon<br>
Colnaghi<br>
"Cologne"<br>
Constable, John<br>
Copley, John Singleton<br>
Copper Plate Magazine<br>
Cornelia, Rembrandt's daughter <br>
Cornelissen, Cornelis<br>
"Cornfield"<br>
"Coronation of Marie de Medicis" <br>
"Coronation of the Virgin"<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Ghirlandajo)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Raphael)<br>
Corot, Jean Baptiste Camille<br>
Correggio<br>
Cosimo, Piero di<br>
"Cottage, The"<br>
"Countess Folkstone" <br>
"Countess of Spencer"<br>
Coventry, Countess of<br>
"Creation of Man, The"<br>
"Creation of the World, The"<br>
Crozat<br>
"Crucifixion, The"<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Raphael) <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Tintoretto) </p>

<p>"Danaë"  <br>
Dandie Dinmont<br>
"Daniel" <br>
Dante <br>
"Daphnis and Chloe"<br>
Daubigny <br>
"David"  <br>
"Dead Christ, The" <br>
"Dead Mallard" <br>
"Death of Ananias, The"  <br>
"Death of Wolfe, The" <br>
"Dedham Mill"<br>
"Dedham Vale"  <br>
Delaroche <br>
"Deluge, The"  <br>
"Descent from the Cross, The"<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Campana)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Rembrandt)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Rubens) <br>
De Witt<br>
Diaz<br>
"Dice Players, The"<br>
Dickens, Charles <br>
Digby, Kenelm <br>
"Dignity and Impudence" <br>
"Divine Comedy"<br>
Dolce, Ludovico <br>
Donatello <br>
"Don Quixote"<br>
<a name="393"></a>Doré, Paul Gustave<br>
D'Orsay<br>
"Duchess of Devonshire and Her Daughter, The"<br>
"Duel After the Masked Ball"<br>
Dunthorne, John<br>
Dupré <br>
Durand, Carolus <br>
Dürer, Albrecht<br>
Dyce</p>

<p>"Ecce Homo"<br>
"Education of Mary, The"<br>
Edward, King<br>
Egyptian art<br>
Elizabeth, Cousin of the Virgin<br>
Elizabeth, Princess<br>
"Embarkation for the Island of Cythera"<br>
"Emperor at Solferino, The"<br>
Engravers and engraving<br>
"Entombment, The"<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Titian)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Veronese) <br>
Eos<br>
"Equestrian Portrait of Don Balthasar Carlos"<br>
Errard, Charles<br>
Escorial, the<br>
Estéban, Bartolomé. See Murillo<br>
Estéban, Gaspar<br>
Estéban, Therese<br>
Etchers and etching <br>
"Europa and the Bull"<br>
"Eve of St. Agnes, The"</p>

<p>Fallen, Ambrose<br>
"Fall of Man, The"<br>
"Fantasy of Morocco"<br>
Fawkes, Hawksworth<br>
"Feast in the House of Simon"<br>
"Feast of Ahasuerus"<br>
"Ferdinand of Austria"<br>
Ferdinand III., Grand Duke<br>
Ferrara, Duke of<br>
"Fête Champêtre"<br>
"Fighting Téméraire, The"<br>
Filipepi, Mariano<br>
"Finding of Christ in the Temple, The"<br>
"Flamborough, Miss"<br>
"Flatford Mill on the River Stour"<br>
"Flora"<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Böcklin)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Titian) <br>
"Foal of an Ass, The"<br>
Fondato de' Tedeschi<br>
Fontainebleau <br>
"Fool, The"<br>
"Fornarina, The"<br>
Fortuny, Mariano<br>
Fourment family<br>
Fourment, Helena<br>
"Four Saints"<br>
Francis I.<br>
Frari, monks of the<br>
Frey, Agnes<br>
"Friedland"</p>

<p>Gainsborough, Mary<br>
Gainsborough, Thomas<br>
Gallery, Berlin<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dresden<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Grosvenor<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hague, The<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hermitage, The<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Lichtenstein, Vienna<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Louvre<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Luxembourg<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Madrid<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Naples<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;National, Edinburgh<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;National, London<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Old Pinakothek, Munich <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Parma<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Pitti Palace<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Uffizi<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Vienna<br>
Garrick<br>
"Gay Company in a Park"<br>
Gellée. See Claude Lorrain<br>
George III.<br>
"Georgia Pines"<br>
Gerbier<br>
Germ, The<br>
Gérôme, Jean Léon <br>
Gersaint<br>
Ghibertio<br>
Ghirlandajo<br>
"Gibeon Farm"<br>
Gignoux, Regis<br>
"Gillingham Mill"<br>
Gillot<br>
Giorgione <br>
Giotto<br>
"Giovanna degli Albizi"<br>
Girten, Thomas<br>
Gisze, Gorg<br>
Gladstone, Mr. and Mrs.<br>
"Gleaners, The"<br>
"Glebe Farm"<br>
Goethe<br>
"Golden Calf, The"<br>
<a name="394"></a>"Golden Stairs, The"<br>
Goldsmith, craft of the<br>
Goldsmith, Oliver<br>
Gonzaga, Vincenzo<br>
"Good Samaritan, The"<br>
Graham, Judge<br>
Granacci<br>
Gravelot <br>
Grignon, Madame de<br>
Gualfonda<br>
"Guardian Angel, The"<br>
Guidi, Giovanni<br>
Guidi, Simone<br>
Guidi. Tommaso. <i>See</i> Masaccio<br>
Guido<br>
Guidobaldo of Urbino<br>
Guilds<br>
"Gust of Wind"</p>

<p>Haarlem Town Hall<br>
"Haarlem's Little Forest"<br>
"Hadleigh Castle" <br>
Hals, Franz<br>
Hamerton<br>
Hamilton, Duchess of <br>
"Hampstead Heath"<br>
Hancock, John<br>
"Hans of Antwerp"  <br>
Haranger, Abbé<br>
"Hark!"<br>
"Harvest Waggon, The"<br>
Hassam, Childe<br>
Hastings, Warren <br>
"Haunt of the Gazelle, The"<br>
Hayman <br>
"Haystack in Sunshine"<br>
"Hay Wain, The"<br>
"Head of Christ" <br>
"Head of Medusa"<br>
Hearn, George A.<br>
Henin <br>
Henrietta, Queen<br>
Henry III.<br>
Henry VIII. <br>
"Henschel" <br>
"Hercules" <br>
Herrera<br>
"Highland Sheep"<br>
"Hille Bobbe, the Witch of Haarlem"<br>
Hill, Jack<br>
"Hireling Shepherd, The"<br>
Hobbema, Meindert<br>
Hogarth, William<br>
Holbein, Ambrosius<br>
Holbein, Hans, the Younger<br>
Holbein, Michael<br>
Holbein, Philip<br>
Holbein, Sigismund<br>
Holbein, the Elder<br>
"Holofernes" <br>
Holper, Barbara <br>
"Holy Family and St. Bridget"<br>
Holy Family in art, The <br>
"Holy Family under a Palm Tree, The"<br>
"Holy Night, The"<br>
"Homer St. Gaudens"<br>
"Hon. Ann Bingham, The"<br>
Hood, Admiral<br>
"Horse Fair, The"<br>
Howard, Catherine<br>
Hudson, Thomas<br>
Hunt, William Holman</p>

<p>"II Giorno" <br>
"II Medico del Correggio"<br>
"Immaculate Conception, The"<br>
Indian pottery<br>
Infanta<br>
"Infant Jesus and St. John, The" <br>
Inman<br>
Inness<br>
"Innocence"<br>
"In Paradise"<br>
Inquisition, Spanish<br>
"Interior of the Mosque of Omar"<br>
Isabella, Queen<br>
Islay<br>
"Isle of the Dead, The"<br>
"Ivybridge" </p>

<p>Jacopo da Empoli<br>
Jacque <br>
"Jane Seymour"<br>
"Jerusalem by Moonlight"<br>
"Jesus and the Lamb"<br>
Jesus in art<br>
Johnson, Dr.<br>
Jones, George<br>
Joseph in art <br>
"Joseph in Egypt"<br>
"Joseph's Dream" <br>
"Judgment of Paris, The" <br>
"Judith"<br>
Julienne<br>
Julius II.<br>
Justiniana</p>

<p>Kann, Rudolf <br>
"King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid"<br>
"King of Hearts"<br>
"Kirmesse, The"<br>
Knackfuss<br>
"Knight, Death and the Devil, The"</p>

<p><a name="395"></a>"La Belle Jardinière" <br>
"La Disputa" <br>
"Lady Elcho, Mrs. Arden, Mrs. Tennant"<br>
"La Gioconda"<br>
"Landscape with Cattle."<br>
Landseer, John <br>
Landseer, Sir Edwin Henry <br>
Landseer, Thomas <br>
"La Primavera" <br>
"Last Judgment, The"<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Angelo)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Tintoretto)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Titian)<br>
"Last Supper, The"<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Andrea del Sarto)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Ghirlandajo)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Veronese)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Leonardo da Vinci)<br>
"Laughing Cavalier, The" <br>
Laura <br>
Lavinia, daughter of Titian <br>
"Lavinia, the Artist's Daughter" <br>
Lawrence, Sir Thomas <br>
"Leda"<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Correggio)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Gérome)<br>
Lee, Jeremiah<br>
Legion of Honour <br>
Lemon, Margaret <br>
Leonardo. See da Vinci<br>
Leo X. <br>
Lewis, J. F. <br>
<i>Liber Studiorium</i> <br>
"Liber Veritas" <br>
Library, Boston Public <br>
"Light of the World, The" <br>
Linley, Thomas <br>
Linley, Samuel <br>
"Lion Disturbed at His Repast" <br>
"Lion Enjoying His Repast" <br>
"Lioness, The Study off a"<br>
"Lion Hunt, A"<br>
Lippi, Fra Filippo<br>
"Lock on the Stour"<br>
Lombardi<br>
"Lords Digby and Russell" <br>
"Lord Wharton"<br>
Lorenzalez, Claudio<br>
Lorrain, Claude<br>
Lott, Willy <br>
Louis XIV.<br>
Louise, Princess<br>
"Love Among the Ruins"<br>
"Low Life and High Life"<br>
Lowther, Sir William<br>
Lucas van Leyden<br>
Lucia, mother of Titian<br>
Lucretia, wife of Andrea del Sarto<br>
Luther, Martin <br>
Madonna and Child<br>
"Madonna and Child with St. Anne"<br>
"Madonna and Child with Saints"<br>
"Madonna del'Arpie"<br>
"Madonna della Caraffa"<br>
"Madonna della Casa d'Alba" <br>
"Madonna della Sedia"<br>
"Madonna del Granduca"<br>
"Madonna del Pesce"<br>
"Madonna del Sacco"<br>
"Madonna of the Palms"<br>
"Madonna of the Rosary."<br>
Madrazo<br>
"Magdalene, The"<br>
Manet<br>
"Manoah's Sacrifice"<br>
Mantegna<br>
Mantua, Duke of<br>
Mantua, Duke Frederick II. of<br>
"Man with the Hoe, The"<br>
"Man with the Sword, The"<br>
Margherita<br>
Maria Theresa <br>
"Marriage à la Mode"<br>
"Marriage at Cana, The" <br>
"Marriage Contract, The"<br>
"Marriage of Bacchus and Ariadne, The"<br>
"Marriage of Mary and Joseph, The"<br>
"Marriage of St. Catherine, The"<br>
"Marriage of Samson, The"<br>
Martineau <br>
"Martyrdom of St. Agnes, The" <br>
"Martyrdom of St. Peter, The" <br>
"Martyrdom of St. Sebastian, The"<br>
Mary, the Virgin, in art<br>
Masaccio (Tommasco Guidi) <br>
Masoline <br>
Mastersingers, Nuremberg <br>
Maximillian, Emperor <br>
Medici family<br>
Medici, Giovanni di Bicci de' <br>
Medici, Lorenzi de'<br>
Medici, Ottaviano de'<br>
Medici, Pietro de' <br>
"Meeting of St. John and St. Anna at Jerusalem"<br>
Meissonier, Jean Louis Ernest<br>
<a name="396"></a>"Melancholy"<br>
Merlini, Girolama <br>
"Meyer Madonna, The"<br>
Michallon <br>
"Midsummer Noon"<br>
Millais<br>
Millet, Jean François <br>
Millet, Mère<br>
"Mill Stream"<br>
"Miracle of St. Mark, The"<br>
Missions, Spanish<br>
Missirini<br>
"Mr. Marquand" <br>
"Mr. Penrose"<br>
"Mrs. Meyer and Children"<br>
"Mrs. Peel"<br>
Mohawk<br>
Mona Lisa<br>
Monet, Claude<br>
"Money Changers, The"<br>
"Moonlight at Salerno"<br>
Morales<br>
"Moreau and His Staff before Hohenlinden"<br>
More, Sir Thomas<br>
"Morning Prayer, The"<br>
"Moses"<br>
"Moses Breaking the Tablets of the Law"<br>
Mudge, Dr.<br>
Murat<br>
Murillo (Bartolomé Estéban)<br>
Murillo, Dona Anna<br>
Museum of Art, Basel<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Berlin <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Court, Vienna <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Madrid<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Metropolitan, New York <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Prado<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Rijks, Amsterdam<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;South Kensington<br>
Muther<br>
"Mystic Marriage of St. Catherine, The"  </p>

<p>"Naiads at Play"<br>
Napoleon<br>
"Nativity, The"<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Botticelli) <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Dürer) <br>
Navarrette<br>
"Nieces of Sir Horace Walpole" <br>
"Night Watch, The"<br>
"Noli me Tangere"<br>
Norham Castle<br>
Nuremberg <br>
"Nurse and the Child, The"<br>
 <br>
"'Oh, Pearl' Quoth I"<br>
"Old Bachelor, The" <br>
"Old Shepherd's Chief Mourner, The"<br>
Olivares</p>

<p>Pacheco<br>
"Pallas"<br>
"Pan and Psyche"<br>
Pantheon<br>
Pareja <br>
"Parish Clerk, The"<br>
'Past and Present"<br>
Passignano<br>
"Pathless Water, The"<br>
Paul III.<br>
"Paysage"<br>
Pazzi family<br>
"Penzance"<br>
Percy, Bishop<br>
Perez family<br>
Perez, Maria<br>
Perugino<br>
Philip II.<br>
Philip III.<br>
Philip IV.<br>
Picot<br>
"Pilate Washing His Hands"<br>
Pinas<br>
Pirkneimer<br>
Pissaro<br>
"Ploughing"<br>
Pope, Alexander<br>
"Portrait of Old Man and Boy"<br>
Portraits of artists by themselves<br>
"Praying Arab"<br>
"Praying Hands"<br>
Pre-Raphaelites<br>
"Presentation of Christ in the Temple"<br>
"Presentation of the Family of Darius to Alexander"<br>
Prim, General<br>
"Procession of the Magi"<br>
"Prowling Lion, The"<br>
"Psyche and Cupid"<br>
Pypelincx, Maria </p>

<p>Quakers<br>
"Quin, Portrait of" </p>

<p>Rabelais <br>
"Rake's Progress, The"<br>
"Rape of Ganymede, The"<br>
"Rape of the Daughters of Leucippus, The"<br>
Raphael (Sanzio)<br>
<a name="397"></a>Reade, Charles<br>
"Reading at Diderot's, A"<br>
"Reaper, The"<br>
"Regions of Joy"<br>
Rembrandt (van Rijn)<br>
"Retreat from Russia" <br>
Reynolds, Samuel<br>
Reynolds, Sir Joshua<br>
Ribera<br>
Rinaldo and Armida<br>
"Road over the Downs, The" <br>
"Robert Cheseman with his Falcon" <br>
Robusto, Jacopo. <i>See</i> Tintoretto<br>
Romano, Guilio<br>
Rood, Professor<br>
"Rosary, Story of the" <br>
Rossetti, Dante Gabriel<br>
Rossetti, W. M.<br>
Rothschild, Lord<br>
Rousseau   <br>
Royal Princess<br>
Rubens, Albert<br>
Rubens, John<br>
Rubens, Nicholas<br>
Rubens, Peter Paul  <br>
Ruisdael, Jacob van<br>
Ruskin, John  <br>
Ruthven, Lady Mary<br>
Sachs, Hans<br>
"Sacred and Profane Love"<br>
"St. Anthony of Padua"<br>
"St. Augustine"<br>
"St. Barbara"<br>
St. Bernard dog<br>
St. Bernardino<br>
"Saint Cecelia"  <br>
St. Christopher<br>
St. Clemente<br>
St. Dominic<br>
St. George<br>
"St. George and the Dragon"<br>
"St. George Slaying the Dragon"<br>
St. Giorgio Maggiore<br>
"St. Jerome"<br>
St, John the Baptist <br>
St. Jovis Shooting Company <br>
St. Leger, Colonel<br>
St. Lucas, Guild of<br>
St. Luke, Guild of<br>
St. Mark<br>
St. Martin's Church<br>
"St. Michael Attacking Satan." <br>
"St. Nobody"  <br>
St. Paul's Cathedral<br>
St. Peter<br>
"St. Peter Baptising"<br>
St. Peter's Church<br>
"St. Rocco Healing the Sick"  <br>
"St. Sebastian."<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Botticelli)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Correggio)<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Titian)<br>
St. Sebastian, Church of<br>
St. Sebastian, Monastery of<br>
St. Sixtus<br>
St. Trinita, Church of<br>
"Salisbury Cathedral"<br>
Salon<br>
Salvator Rosa<br>
"Samson" <br>
"Samson Threatening His Stepfather"<br>
"Samson's Wedding"<br>
San Francisco<br>
Santa Croce<br>
Santa Maria della Pace<br>
Santa Maria delle Grazte <br>
Santa Maria del Orto<br>
Santa Maria Novella<br>
Santi, Bartolommeo<br>
Santi Giovanni<br>
Santo Cruz, Church of<br>
Santo Spirito, Convent of<br>
Sanzio. <i>See</i> Raphael<br>
Sarcinelli, Cornelio<br>
Sargent, John Singer<br>
Sarto, Andrea del. <i>See</i> Andrea<br>
Saskia<br>
Savonarola<br>
"Scapegoat, The"<br>
"Scene from Woodstock"<br>
Schiavone<br>
Schmidt, Elizabeth<br>
Schongauer<br>
School Girl's Hymn<br>
"School of Anatomy, The"<br>
School of Art, Academy, London<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;American<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Andalusian<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Castilian<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dusseldorf<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dutch  <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;English  <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Flemish <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Florentine is, xti. <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Fontainebleau-Barbizon<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Foreign <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;French in<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;German <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hudson River <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<a name="398"></a>Impressionist<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Italian<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Nuremberg<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Parma<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Roman<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Spanish<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Umbrian<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Venetian<br>
"School, of Athens, The"<br>
"School, of Cupid, The"<br>
"Scotch Deer"<br>
Scott, Sir Walter<br>
Scrovegno, Enrico<br>
Scuola di San Rocco<br>
"Seaport at Sunset"<br>
Sebastian<br>
"Serpent Charmer, The"<br>
Servi, convent of the<br>
Sesto, Cesare de<br>
Seurat<br>
Sforza, Ludovico<br>
"Shadow of Death, The"<br>
Shakespeare<br>
Sheepshanks Collection<br>
"Shepherd Guarding Sheep"<br>
Sheppey, Isle of<br>
Sheridan, Mrs. Richard Brinsley<br>
Sheridan, Richard Brinsley<br>
Siddons, Mrs.<br>
Silva, Rodriguez de<br>
Sistine Chapel<br>
"Sistine Madonna, The"<br>
Six, Jan<br>
Sixtus IV.<br>
Skynner, Sir John<br>
"Slaughter of the Innocents, The"<br>
"Slave Ship, The"<br>
"Sleeping Bloodhound, The"<br>
"Sleeping Venus, The"<br>
Smith, John<br>
"Snake Charmers, The"<br>
"Snow-storm at Sea, A"<br>
Society of Arts<br>
Soderini<br>
Solus Lodge<br>
"Sortie, The"<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<i>See also</i> Night Watch<br>
Sotomayer, Doña Beatriz de <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Cabrera y<br>
"Sower, The"<br>
Spaniel, King Charles<br>
"Spanish Marriage, The"<br>
Spinola, Marquis of<br>
"Sport of the Waves"<br>
"Spring"<br>
Sterne, Lawrence<br>
"Storm, The"<br>
Stour, River<br>
"Straw Hat, The"<br>
Sudbury<br>
Sully<br>
Sultan of Turkey<br>
"Sunset on the Passaic"<br>
"Sunset on the Sea"<br>
"Surrender of Breda"<br>
"Susanna and the Elders"<br>
"Susanna's Bath"<br>
"Sussex Downs"<br>
Swanenburch, Jacob van<br>
"Sword-Dance, The"<br>
"Syndics of the Cloth Hall"</p>

<p>Taddei, Taddeo<br>
Tassi, Agostine<br>
Thackeray<br>
Thornhill, Sir James<br>
"Three Ages, The"<br>
"Three Saints and God the Father"<br>
Tintoretto (Jacopo Robusti)<br>
Titian (Tiziano Vecelli)<br>
Tornabuoni, Giovanni<br>
Torregiano <br>
Trafalgar Square<br>
"Transfiguration, The"<br>
"Tribute Money, The"<br>
"Trinity"<br>
Troyon<br>
Trumbull, American painter<br>
Trumbull, English diplomat<br>
Tulp, Nicholaus<br>
Turner, Charles<br>
Turner, Joseph Mallord William<br>
"Two Beggar Boys"<br>
Tybis, Geryck</p>

<p>Ulenberg, Saskia van<br>
Urban VIII.<br>
Urbino, Duke of</p>

<p>"Valley Farm, The"<br>
Van Dyck, Sir Anthony <br>
Van Mander, Karel<br>
Van Marcke<br>
Van Noort, Adam<br>
Van Rijn. <i>See</i> Rembrandt<br>
Van Veen<br>
Varangeville<br>
Vasari<br>
Vatican<br>
Vecchio, Palazzo<br>
Vecchio, Palma<br>
Vecelli family<br>
Vecelli, Orsa<br>
Vecelli, Orzio<br>
Vecelli, Pompino<br>
Vecelli, Tiziano. <i>See</i> Titian<br>
<a name="399"></a>Velasquez (Diego Rodriguez de Silva)<br>
"Venice Enthroned"<br>
"Venus Dispatching Cupid"<br>
"Venus Worship"<br>
Verhaecht, Tobias<br>
Vernon<br>
Veronese, Paul (Paolo Cagliari)<br>
Verrocchio<br>
"Vestal Virgin, The"<br>
Victoria, Queen<br>
"Villa by the Sea"<br>
"Village Festival, The"<br>
"Ville d'Avray"<br>
Vinci, Leonardo da<br>
Violante <br>
"Virgin as Consoler, The"<br>
"Virgin's Rest Near Bethlehem"<br>
"Vision of St. Anthony, The"<br>
"Visitation, The"<br>
"Visitor, The"<br>
"Visit to the Burgomaster"</p>

<p>Warren, General Joseph<br>
"Water Carrier, The"<br>
"Watermill, The"<br>
Watteau, Jean Antoine<br>
"Wedding Feast at Cana, The" <br>
Wells, Frederick<br>
West, Sir Benjamin<br>
"Weymouth Bay"<br>
Whitcomb, Ida Prentice<br>
"William, Prince of Orange"<br>
William the Silent<br>
"Will-o'-the-Wisp"<br>
"Willows near Arras"<br>
Wilson<br>
"Winnower, The"<br>
"Winter"<br>
Wolgemuth<br>
"Woodcutters, The"<br>
"Wooded Landscape"<br>
"Wood Gatherers, The"</p>

<p>Yarmouth<br>
"Young People's Story of Art" <br>
"Youth Surprised by Death"</p>

<p>"Zingarella"<br>
Zuccato, Sebastian</p>
<BR>
<BR>
<BR>
<BR>
<PRE>
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PICTURES EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW ***

This file should be named 8pics10h.htm or 8pics10h.zip
Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8pics11h.htm
VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8pics10ah.htm


Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we usually do not
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
even years after the official publication date.

Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
and editing by those who wish to do so.

Most people start at our Web sites at:
http://gutenberg.net or
http://promo.net/pg

These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).


Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
can get to them as follows, and just download by date.  This is
also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.

http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04 or
ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext04

Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90

Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
as it appears in our Newsletters.


Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)

We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.   Our
projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If the value
per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
files per month:  1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.

The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.

Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):

eBooks Year Month

    1  1971 July
   10  1991 January
  100  1994 January
 1000  1997 August
 1500  1998 October
 2000  1999 December
 2500  2000 December
 3000  2001 November
 4000  2001 October/November
 6000  2002 December*
 9000  2003 November*
10000  2004 January*


The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.

We need your donations more than ever!

As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.

We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
that have responded.

As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.

In answer to various questions we have received on this:

We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
request donations in all 50 states.  If your state is not listed and
you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
just ask.

While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
donate.

International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
ways.

Donations by check or money order may be sent to:

Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
PMB 113
1739 University Ave.
Oxford, MS 38655-4109

Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
method other than by check or money order.

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154.  Donations are
tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law.  As fund-raising
requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.

We need your donations more than ever!

You can get up to date donation information online at:

http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html


***

If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
you can always email directly to:

Michael S. Hart [hart@pobox.com]

Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.

We would prefer to send you information by email.


**The Legal Small Print**


(Three Pages)

***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.

*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.

ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
distribute it in the United States without permission and
without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.

Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
any commercial products without permission.

To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.

If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
time to the person you received it from. If you received it
on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
receive it electronically.

THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
PARTICULAR PURPOSE.

Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
may have other legal rights.

INDEMNITY
You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
following that you do or cause:  [1] distribution of this eBook,
[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
or [3] any Defect.

DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
or:

[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
     eBook or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
     if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
     including any form resulting from conversion by word
     processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
     *EITHER*:

     [*]  The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
          does *not* contain characters other than those
          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
          author, and additional characters may be used to
          indicate hypertext links; OR

     [*]  The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
          form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
          OR

     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
          eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
          or other equivalent proprietary form).

[2]  Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
     "Small Print!" statement.

[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
     gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
     payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
     the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
     legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
     periodic) tax return.  Please contact us beforehand to
     let us know your plans and to work out the details.

WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
in machine readable form.

The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
Money should be paid to the:
"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."

If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
hart@pobox.com

[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
when distributed free of all fees.  Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
Michael S. Hart.  Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
they hardware or software or any other related product without
express permission.]

*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
</PRE>

</BODY>
</HTML>
generated by cgit v1.2.3 (git 2.25.1) at 2026-06-15 01:04:33 +0000