This part of the subject is therefore first discussed by Mr. Van Dyke in eight chapters, viz: I. Color and Harmony.-II. Tone and Gradation.-III. Light and Shade.-IV. Perspective and Atmosphere.-V. Values.-VI. Textures and Qualities.VII. Drawing and Form.-VIII. Composition.

Artists

Now, many persons advance as far as to get some knowledge of the technique of art, and go no further. But it is to be remembered that while it is important that an artist should con form in his technique to the principles laid down in these eight chapters, yet there is something far more important. claim that painting is a language. It is a means of expressing thought; and of course the thought is greater than the means used in expressing it. So the idea which the painter has had in mind is the great thing to be looked for and considered.

But in the great majority of pictures in any gallery, what evidence is there of any special thought in the artist? or of any idea which the painter has sought to express? A large proportion of them are simply attempts to reproduce in color some pretty bit of scenery, or some amusing or characteristic group of people. Now, the artist who limits himself to such work may make something which will give a momentary feeling of pleasure to the spectator, but he is only an imitator, and mere imitation never made anything of enduring value. Mr. Van Dyke says: "The painter detailing nature upon canvass, line upon line, with no hope, object, or ambition but that of rendering nature as she is, is but unsuccessfully rivaling the photograph camera." .. "Such pictures are good reminders of the places we have visited, like the photograph we buy along the line of travel, but they scarcely add to the world of art." He insists that the "object of painting is not to deceive, and make one think he stands in the presence of real life. Art is not the delineation of peanuts and postage-stamps in such a realistic manner that you stretch out your hand to pick them up." Neither, it may be added, is it art of the highest kind to paint mere representations of what is beautiful, even though the artist in doing this shows knowledge of technique, and possesses marked ability, and individuality, and enthusiasm, and feeling.

In the highest art there is something more. The most perfect beauty is not to be found in things. Mr. Van Dyke says: "Trees, sky, air, water, men, cities, streets, buildings, are but the symbols of ideas which play their part in the conception." The highest beauty is to be found in the conceptions of the human

mind. To the artist, therefore, who conceives an idea, and uses the forms of nature as the means of expressing that idea, is to be accorded the highest place.

We will quote an illustration or two from Mr. Van Dyke:

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Take the "Sower" of Millet, and what is it that we admire about it? A hundred living artists could excel the drawing, a hundred could excel the rendering of texture and light. The figure is of little consequence. In any street in Paris might have been found a physical man of more perfect make-up. It is the thought, the conception of heroism in humble life, that is strikingly beautiful. You may remember seeing in Rome the statue of "Moses" by Michael Angelo. As a piece of mechanical work it is not wonderful. I doubt not that Canova could have equaled, if not excelled, Michael Angelo as a carver and polisher. But there is something in the "Moses" that is worth all the marbles Canova ever cut. It is the conception of tremendous power, the conceived ability of Moses to overawe, crush, destroy all things before him. In the Prophets and Sybils of the Sistine some of the same power is apparent, combined with solemnity, mystery, wierdness, even the spirit of that prophecy which characterized the originals. The conceptions are lofty to sublimity, nor are the forms at all unworthy of the ideas they embody; but they are not so great as the latter. Bouguereau could have drawn them as well; Delacroix could have given them a more harmonious coloring; Alfred Stevens or Carolus-Duran could have painted their garments much better; but all of them together could not have created that idea of mystery and power which attaches to them. Still another instance of art excellent by the predominance of idea may be taken from the work of an American artist—Mr. Albert Ryder. You have doubtless seen a small sea-piece of his, often exhibited in New York, called "A Waste of Waters is Their Field." It is little larger than your two hands, and represents a fisher-boat tossed by the waves of mid ocean. The light is dull, the figures and boat mere suggestions, and the waves scarcely distinguishable, as I remember them; yet there is an indefinable something about the picture that draws us to it. It is not the painting of it, for that is hardly up to the average. I can scarcely describe what it is except by saying that the picture conveys to one the idea of the loneliness, the weirdness, the wildness of a continued existence at sea amid storms and tempests and dangers innumerable. The craft with her dusky crew, as she pitches and rolls in the sea, her black sails blown full of heavy air and the light dimly seen through storm-clouds, looks like a wraith, a phantom boat, an exile hunted of men. We forget the material parts of the picture after a time, yet the idea haunts us. It keeps galloping through our brain like that dashing falconer of Fromentin. The painter holds us by his thought, his conception, precisely as the novelist makes us remember Lady Dedlock, Jean Valjean, or Harvey Birch, though we may hardly be able to recall a word they said or a thing they did.

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Mr. Ruskin tells you that he [Turner] is great because he knew about the cleavages of rocks, spears of grass, sticks, stones, and trees, and that he was a great painter for one reason-because he painted these objects "true to nature;” but, with all respect for Mr. Ruskin, I beg of you not to believe any such thing. It would not be less erroneous to say that Shakespeare was great because he made a pronoun agree with its noun in gender, number, and person, or that Milton was sublime because he knew how to beat out the accent of an heroic line. People are not great by reason of small accomplishments, but because of great conceptions and revelations; and this is the case with Turner.

WILLIAM L. KINGSLEY.

THE MAGAZINE OF ART.*-Those who are interested in the subject which is treated in the book of Mr. Van Dyke, just noticed, will find it well worth while to examine carefully the magazine which is published monthly by Messrs. Cassell & Co., of New York. We have often, in this Review, commended it, and called attention to the fact that each of its numbers, besides many beautiful illustrations, contains one or two full page etchings of the best paintings of contemporaneous art in the different countries of Europe. We mention the magazine again at this time, for the reason that these etchings, though without the accompaniment of color, furnish those who cannot visit the European art collections an opportunity of studying the methods of the best living artists abroad, and the way they apply the principles which are laid down by Mr. Van Dyke.

The AUGUST NUMBER contains a very characteristic etching of of Meissoniér's "Vedette." It is a picture of a French mounted vedette or scout, completely armed, who has spurred ahead of the body of troops who are to be seen in the dim distance. The "Vedette" is riding a splendid looking horse, and has stopped to scrutinize carefully the country before him. An American will probably admire this picture only for its technique. The admirable drawing for which Meissoniér is so famed is certainly here very conspicious. Every detail is perfect. The erect head of the horse is particularly noticeable. It stands out from the page so as to seem almost to breathe. Nothing too extravagant can be said of the drawing of the horse and his rider. The picture too shows all the peculiarities of Meissoniér's style, and even what are sometimes supposed to be his defects. There is the glare of light over the whole scene which is so common in his work.

* Magazine of Art. Cassell & Company (Limited). Single numbers 35 cents.

Yearly subscription $3.50.

Very little use is made of the contrast of shadow. But we do not propose to criticise the technique, and only mention it as worth careful study by anyone who has not learned to judge of this great modern artist by the paintings themselves.

And now, as art is a language, the question arises, What is it that Meissoniér says in this picture? To an American, very little! What would it mean, if hung in an American gallery, or in an American parlor? It is, to be sure, an almost perfect picture of a French vedette on duty; and, to those interested in military scenes, it has its value. But, in the house of a French chauvinist, it would say much to the beholder! France is personified in the well appointed horseman who is looking over the German frontier. All the might of France too is waiting in the background, ready to seize the first opportunity that may present itself to pour over the frontier and "avenge Sedan." So it is never to be forgotten that a picture which has no word for us may be full of stirring eloquence for another.

The Magazine usually furnishes, in each number, valuable criticism of art from well known living artists. The August number has an Article by Sir John E. Millais of London.

In the July number, is an Article by Mr. Mortimer Menpes, who has just returned from Japan with a collection of pictures which he painted in that country and which he has placed on exhibition in London. In the Article to which we refer, he comments on a recent report made in Japan by a Japanese commission which had been sent to Europe to investigate the condition of Western art. He says that this commission, after thorough examination, reported that art, as it now is in Japan, is the only living art in the world. Mr. Menpes seems to admit the truth of the claims they make, and takes the occasion to give some of the reasons why they are right. He says that "Art in Japan is no mere exotic cultivation of the skillful, no mere graceful luxury of the rich, but a part of the daily lives of the people." He claims that the artistic sense is shared by the peasant and the prince; as well by the carpenter and fan maker and lacquer-worker as by the stateliest daimio of the community. He tells a story of his servant boy as an illustration of what he means, and of "the native artistic instinct of Japan." "I had got a number of fanholders and was busying myself one afternoon in arranging them on the walls. My little Japanese servant boy was in the room, and as I went on with my work I caught an expression on his face from time to time, which showed that he was not overpleased with my

performance. After a while, as this dissatisfied expression seemed to deepen, I asked him what the matter was. Then he frankly confessed that he did not like the way in which I was arranging my fanholders. Why did you not tell me so at once?' I asked. 'You are an artist from England,' he replied, and it was not for me to speak.' However, I persuaded him to arrange the fanholders himself after his own taste, and I must say I received a remarkable demonstration lesson. The task took him about two hours, placing, arranging, adjusting; and, when he had finished, the result was beautiful. That wall was a perfect picture. Every fanholder seemed to be exactly in its right place, and it looked as if the alteration of a single one would affect and disinternate the whole scheme. I accepted the lesson with due humility, and remained more than ever convinced that the Japanese are what they have justly claimed to be, an essentially artistic people instinct with living art.”

This artistic taste is strengthened by education. The Japanese even as children, are carefully taught the laws of harmony, and how to arrange furniture and flowers so as to secure the best artistic effect. They have books with diagrams to illustrate "the way of properly disposing flowers in a pot." "The outsides as well as the insides of their houses are decorated on the principles of harmony, even to the painting of signs in the street. They are most particular about placing their richly-colored sign in relation to its surroundings. In the same way, whether the subject may be a string of lanterns or whatnot, whatever is done is done harmoniously, and in no case is decoration the result of accident."

Mr. Menpes says that we ought not to judge of the best Japanese art by the specimens which we have in these Western countries. The Japanese artists are amazed that the Europeans and Americans want "such ugly things" as they are required to paint for export. He says that the Japanese look with contempt upon "the kind of curios" which they are now turning out by wholesale to meet the demand that comes from the West, and that the occidental nations, "with their love of gimcrackeries," are doing their best "to cheapen and degrade the artistic capacity of Japan."

Reference is made in the Article to a peculiarity of the wealthy collectors of pictures in Japan which is worth noting, and with an account of which we will conclude. It seems that VOL. XIII.

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