made its way north of the Loire; there it came in contact with races endowed with immense vitality and which, as early as the twelfth century, attained a state of civilization that enabled them to prepare, in their turn, for the creation of an art of their own. For this reason, as soon as Romanesque architecture entered the northern district, it underwent perceptible modifications and received the characteristic impress of these totally dissimilar peoples. The ancient tradition — the sentiment of proportion peculiar to it, and the special nobility, or cheerfulness and grace, constituting its distinctive feature — is easily traceable in the edifices of the south; in the north, very different forms and proportions at once appeared, and under a more severe aspect.
All these distinctions have already been emphasized, and we will not recur to them. But the fact must thus early be recognized, by the decisive manner in which the genius of the north set its seal on southern architecture, that it could not long be content with foreign inspiration, even though adapted to its own conceptions; evidently the period has been reached when an architecture untrammelled by tradition is about to appear.
This appearance, however, will not be due to chance; it will be subject to certain laws and will require certain favorable conditions, which we will point out here.
(To be continued. )
THE GUELPH EXHIBITION. 1 — III. W
E now enter the room, which, from one point of view perhaps better deserves to be called royal than the one strictly so named; since, wherever we turn our eyes they fall on the lineaments of one highly distinguished in Science, Art, Literature, or the Drama: Newton serenely regarding the puckered and anxious brow of Romney and Doctor Johnson frowning upon Handel, while the parchment-like visage of Hansard gazes all unmoved on the queenly figure of Mrs. Siddons.
Turning our attention first to Thornhill’s portrait of Sir Isaac Newton
“ — a mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone! ”
Wo see the clear, piercing eyes and the well-defined features of his rather short face which is well set off by the long curls of his court wig. In this portrait as in a later one, unsigned, we notice the remarkably square chin, and, that though he is advanced in life, there appears no diminution in the marvellous faculties which he retained till the close of his long life.
Of two good portraits of Addison, by Kneller, the first, in which he wears a blue velvet coat and long fair wig, by the cheerful, easyminded look on his handsome face, was probably painted before his marriage with the unappreciative Countess of Warwick. Though known as the chief founder of Classical English Prose, he rose to power and wealth by a fulsome panegyric on Marlborough, in verse. Also, by Kneller, is the portrait of Sir R. Steel, and a rather flattering one it is of the clever member of the trio of Essayists of whom Samuel Johnson was the last.
This portrait is neither the first nor the last that Reynolds painted of “ one of the oddest and best men of genius that ever lived. ” Of one of the number — executed in 1777 — in which he is represented holding a book close to his eyes, as though he were short-sighted, Johnson writes to Mrs. Thrale (for whose own portrait we look in vain) “ Reynolds may paint himself as deaf as he pleases, but I will not be ‘ Blinking Sam. ’ ”
History is represented by Gibbon, who has a most repulsive face with a double or triple chin; also by Rev. Wm. Robertson, who, as author of the stately “ History of Charles the Fifth ” achieved a certain renown: in his fine portrait by Raeburn, lent by Edinburgh University, he wears the robes and wig of the Principal of the University.
Old Luke Hansard looks out from Lane’s canvas with all the character in his face which brought him into such prominence as the Printer to the House of Commons. Benjamin Franklin’s most interesting little portrait, lent by Earl Stanhope, is doubtless wellknown in Boston, having been engraved.
A faded portrait by Knapton, signed 1743, of the distinguished amateur architect, the Earl of Burlington, depicts the “ Grimthorpe ” of his day, wearing the Garter with the ribbon and star, seated at a table on which stands a bust of Inigo Jones, a volume of whose drawings he holds. Hogarth satirized him and his friends in “ The
Man of Taste ” in connection with his re-building Burlington House and Chiswick — at which latter house both Fox and Canning died, and of which Lord Hervey said “ it was too small to live in and too large to hang to a watch. ”
Sir John Vanbrugh, witty and vain, who began life as a dramatist, is of course, well known as the architect of Castle Howard and Blenheim. In Kneller’s portrait he looks very proud and pettish. An epigram of the time satirizing Blenheim concludes thus:
“ Thanks, sir, cried I, ’tis very fine,
But where d’ye sleep, and where d’ye dine? I find by all you have been telling
That ’tis a house but not a dwelling. ”
The Royal Society lends a wonderfully life-like portrait by T. Phillips, of Sir Joseph Banks, the zealous naturalist, who accompanied Captain Cook on his expedition round the world; having previously visited Newfoundland and Labrador. Seated at a table on which we see the mace of the learned Society, of which he was president for forty-two years, and wearing the ribbon and star of the Bath, he looks out to us, from the paper he is reading, with a face full of earnestness and vigor. From the same Society comes Kneller’s “ Sir Hans Sloane, ” who succeeded Sir I. Newton as president, and whose collection formed the nucleus of the British Museum.
There is an interesting portrait of Sir Richard Arkwright — the thirteenth child of poor parents — who, beginning life as a farthing barber in a cellar at Bolton, died a knight worth more than half a million sterling. A plain, matter-of-fact man, with prominent eyes, his left hand rests on a table, on which stands a spinning-jenney.
The Baroness Burdett-Coutts lends the portraits of Nollekins,
R. A., by Harlow, and of Flaxman, by Derby; the former, of Belgian extraction, has a face strong and shrewd, that of the latter being characterized by quiet perseverance.
Fitly placed next that of Flaxman, is Sir Joshua’s portrait of our great English potter, the founder of modern Etruria, Josiah Wedgewood, F. R. S., with whom the young sculptor long worked as a designer and modeller. The painting of the upright, thoroughly English face has, like many another work of art, fallen a prey to the restorer.
The unsigned portrait of Canova, lent by the Duke of Devonshire, is probably the work of Lawrence, judging by the far-away look in the fine eyes; since “ a better painter of eyes could scarcely be found in early or modern art. ” It is doubtless one of two by him, for Lawrence, being dissatisfied with his first portrait, which he said was not one at all, executed a second, entirely repainting the head. When this one was mentioned in Canova’s hearing, he exclaimed, “ Per Baccho! che uomo e questo! ”
“ In the likeness of a poet we look for the presence of Poetry ”; and we cannot but remark how the artists have been inspired by the poetic feeling in the characteristic portraits to which we now turn.
In this proud and rather handsome man, wearing a curious velvet hat, and who looks like a brigand, we see Matthew Prior, of course painted by Kneller, since he was lucky enough to gain an ambassadorship by his satire “ The Town and Country Mouse. ”
“ The pleasantest face of all the poets, ” said Thackeray, “ is that of Gay, ” on the frame of whose unsigned portrait is this couplet:
“ Of Manners gentle and Affections mild, In Wit a man, Simplicity a child. ”
Lord Harcourt’s “ most precious portrait ” of Pope is a marvel of shell-like transparency; the fine subdued red of the poet’s cap on the weary brow, which he leans on the long delicate hand, harmonizes well with the charming green of his gown. It is painted by Kneller, and is described by Lord Harcourt “as the best portrait of him and one of the best works of that master. ” We know that in his highly polished verse Pope often wrote scathing satires, so, minus the polish, did those who could also draw the figure of a hunchback, and write under it “ Pope. ” But with a change in gender, which his shade, we hope will forgive, we may apply to the portrait his own lines from “ The Rape of the Lock. ”
“If to his share some human errors fall,
Look on this face and you’ll forget them all. ”
A rather doubtful portrait, said to be “ Chatterton at the age of thirteen, ” is interesting only on account of the luckless original, whose story appeals to all hearts.
The portrait of Goldsmith, holding a book, is familiar to all. Of it Leslie wrote: “ In that thoughtful, patient face, the traces of a life of endurance, and the consciousness of being misunderstood and undervalued, are as unmistakeable as the benevolence, meditating how to amuse a world, which considered it a vulgar face. ” Shortly before the close of the R. A. exhibition of 1770, where it hung next to the portrait of Johnson, “ The Deserted Village” appeared, with a dedication to Sir Joshua Reynolds.
Of Cowper we have three portraits, in all of which he wears the cap — placed with the relics — made of white cambric, doubtless by the fairy fingers of his cousin, Lady Hesketh, to whom he wrote so many of his most inimitable letters. Beneath the cap are the harelike eyes and tremulous features of this nervous man. On one of Romney’s two portraits of him Cowper wrote the sonnet beginning:
“ Romney, expert infallibly to trace
On chart or canvas, not the form alone
And semblance, but, however faintly shown,
The mind’s impression too, on every face. ”1 Continued from No. 795, page 183.
All these distinctions have already been emphasized, and we will not recur to them. But the fact must thus early be recognized, by the decisive manner in which the genius of the north set its seal on southern architecture, that it could not long be content with foreign inspiration, even though adapted to its own conceptions; evidently the period has been reached when an architecture untrammelled by tradition is about to appear.
This appearance, however, will not be due to chance; it will be subject to certain laws and will require certain favorable conditions, which we will point out here.
(To be continued. )
THE GUELPH EXHIBITION. 1 — III. W
E now enter the room, which, from one point of view perhaps better deserves to be called royal than the one strictly so named; since, wherever we turn our eyes they fall on the lineaments of one highly distinguished in Science, Art, Literature, or the Drama: Newton serenely regarding the puckered and anxious brow of Romney and Doctor Johnson frowning upon Handel, while the parchment-like visage of Hansard gazes all unmoved on the queenly figure of Mrs. Siddons.
Turning our attention first to Thornhill’s portrait of Sir Isaac Newton
“ — a mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone! ”
Wo see the clear, piercing eyes and the well-defined features of his rather short face which is well set off by the long curls of his court wig. In this portrait as in a later one, unsigned, we notice the remarkably square chin, and, that though he is advanced in life, there appears no diminution in the marvellous faculties which he retained till the close of his long life.
Of two good portraits of Addison, by Kneller, the first, in which he wears a blue velvet coat and long fair wig, by the cheerful, easyminded look on his handsome face, was probably painted before his marriage with the unappreciative Countess of Warwick. Though known as the chief founder of Classical English Prose, he rose to power and wealth by a fulsome panegyric on Marlborough, in verse. Also, by Kneller, is the portrait of Sir R. Steel, and a rather flattering one it is of the clever member of the trio of Essayists of whom Samuel Johnson was the last.
This portrait is neither the first nor the last that Reynolds painted of “ one of the oddest and best men of genius that ever lived. ” Of one of the number — executed in 1777 — in which he is represented holding a book close to his eyes, as though he were short-sighted, Johnson writes to Mrs. Thrale (for whose own portrait we look in vain) “ Reynolds may paint himself as deaf as he pleases, but I will not be ‘ Blinking Sam. ’ ”
History is represented by Gibbon, who has a most repulsive face with a double or triple chin; also by Rev. Wm. Robertson, who, as author of the stately “ History of Charles the Fifth ” achieved a certain renown: in his fine portrait by Raeburn, lent by Edinburgh University, he wears the robes and wig of the Principal of the University.
Old Luke Hansard looks out from Lane’s canvas with all the character in his face which brought him into such prominence as the Printer to the House of Commons. Benjamin Franklin’s most interesting little portrait, lent by Earl Stanhope, is doubtless wellknown in Boston, having been engraved.
A faded portrait by Knapton, signed 1743, of the distinguished amateur architect, the Earl of Burlington, depicts the “ Grimthorpe ” of his day, wearing the Garter with the ribbon and star, seated at a table on which stands a bust of Inigo Jones, a volume of whose drawings he holds. Hogarth satirized him and his friends in “ The
Man of Taste ” in connection with his re-building Burlington House and Chiswick — at which latter house both Fox and Canning died, and of which Lord Hervey said “ it was too small to live in and too large to hang to a watch. ”
Sir John Vanbrugh, witty and vain, who began life as a dramatist, is of course, well known as the architect of Castle Howard and Blenheim. In Kneller’s portrait he looks very proud and pettish. An epigram of the time satirizing Blenheim concludes thus:
“ Thanks, sir, cried I, ’tis very fine,
But where d’ye sleep, and where d’ye dine? I find by all you have been telling
That ’tis a house but not a dwelling. ”
The Royal Society lends a wonderfully life-like portrait by T. Phillips, of Sir Joseph Banks, the zealous naturalist, who accompanied Captain Cook on his expedition round the world; having previously visited Newfoundland and Labrador. Seated at a table on which we see the mace of the learned Society, of which he was president for forty-two years, and wearing the ribbon and star of the Bath, he looks out to us, from the paper he is reading, with a face full of earnestness and vigor. From the same Society comes Kneller’s “ Sir Hans Sloane, ” who succeeded Sir I. Newton as president, and whose collection formed the nucleus of the British Museum.
There is an interesting portrait of Sir Richard Arkwright — the thirteenth child of poor parents — who, beginning life as a farthing barber in a cellar at Bolton, died a knight worth more than half a million sterling. A plain, matter-of-fact man, with prominent eyes, his left hand rests on a table, on which stands a spinning-jenney.
The Baroness Burdett-Coutts lends the portraits of Nollekins,
R. A., by Harlow, and of Flaxman, by Derby; the former, of Belgian extraction, has a face strong and shrewd, that of the latter being characterized by quiet perseverance.
Fitly placed next that of Flaxman, is Sir Joshua’s portrait of our great English potter, the founder of modern Etruria, Josiah Wedgewood, F. R. S., with whom the young sculptor long worked as a designer and modeller. The painting of the upright, thoroughly English face has, like many another work of art, fallen a prey to the restorer.
The unsigned portrait of Canova, lent by the Duke of Devonshire, is probably the work of Lawrence, judging by the far-away look in the fine eyes; since “ a better painter of eyes could scarcely be found in early or modern art. ” It is doubtless one of two by him, for Lawrence, being dissatisfied with his first portrait, which he said was not one at all, executed a second, entirely repainting the head. When this one was mentioned in Canova’s hearing, he exclaimed, “ Per Baccho! che uomo e questo! ”
“ In the likeness of a poet we look for the presence of Poetry ”; and we cannot but remark how the artists have been inspired by the poetic feeling in the characteristic portraits to which we now turn.
In this proud and rather handsome man, wearing a curious velvet hat, and who looks like a brigand, we see Matthew Prior, of course painted by Kneller, since he was lucky enough to gain an ambassadorship by his satire “ The Town and Country Mouse. ”
“ The pleasantest face of all the poets, ” said Thackeray, “ is that of Gay, ” on the frame of whose unsigned portrait is this couplet:
“ Of Manners gentle and Affections mild, In Wit a man, Simplicity a child. ”
Lord Harcourt’s “ most precious portrait ” of Pope is a marvel of shell-like transparency; the fine subdued red of the poet’s cap on the weary brow, which he leans on the long delicate hand, harmonizes well with the charming green of his gown. It is painted by Kneller, and is described by Lord Harcourt “as the best portrait of him and one of the best works of that master. ” We know that in his highly polished verse Pope often wrote scathing satires, so, minus the polish, did those who could also draw the figure of a hunchback, and write under it “ Pope. ” But with a change in gender, which his shade, we hope will forgive, we may apply to the portrait his own lines from “ The Rape of the Lock. ”
“If to his share some human errors fall,
Look on this face and you’ll forget them all. ”
A rather doubtful portrait, said to be “ Chatterton at the age of thirteen, ” is interesting only on account of the luckless original, whose story appeals to all hearts.
The portrait of Goldsmith, holding a book, is familiar to all. Of it Leslie wrote: “ In that thoughtful, patient face, the traces of a life of endurance, and the consciousness of being misunderstood and undervalued, are as unmistakeable as the benevolence, meditating how to amuse a world, which considered it a vulgar face. ” Shortly before the close of the R. A. exhibition of 1770, where it hung next to the portrait of Johnson, “ The Deserted Village” appeared, with a dedication to Sir Joshua Reynolds.
Of Cowper we have three portraits, in all of which he wears the cap — placed with the relics — made of white cambric, doubtless by the fairy fingers of his cousin, Lady Hesketh, to whom he wrote so many of his most inimitable letters. Beneath the cap are the harelike eyes and tremulous features of this nervous man. On one of Romney’s two portraits of him Cowper wrote the sonnet beginning:
“ Romney, expert infallibly to trace
On chart or canvas, not the form alone
And semblance, but, however faintly shown,
The mind’s impression too, on every face. ”1 Continued from No. 795, page 183.