Obrázky na stránke
PDF
ePub

In chambers of silk and gold, Lady,
Touch then the sweet guitar,
'Mid crowds and sparkling lights, Lady,
Thyself the brightest star.
Amid things too costly and rare for me,
O, then I can listen, and still be free."

But this writing of songs was a mere by-play and recreation to the Sketcher; he seems to have thrown them off only in order to rest his pen, wearied with earnest writing, before he grappled anew with the great argument of the dignity of the landscape-painter's mission. This idea is to this book what the wrath of Achilles is to the Iliad -the argument of the whole. And most fully, clearly, and satisfactorily we believe it to have been carried to its conclusion. The book is complete in itself, as far as its end is concerned. Its illustrations are chiefly drawn from the scenery of his own neighbourhood, but beautiful scenery in one region of the same country is in general points not much unlike beautiful scenery in another, though details may differ. The foregrounds would be much the same, and the chief variety would occur in distance. The forms of mountains on the horizon chiefly distinguish one scene from another, or the presence or absence of elevations in distance. Later in life, the author of The Sketcher spent a fruitful summer at Bettws-yCoed, in North Wales, illustrating by his pencil the almost infinite variety of scenery that is to be found there in a small compass. We may regret that notices of this choice region were not included in the plan of the Sketcher, which, it must be always remembered, however new it may appear in its totality-and we do not hesitate to say that it will be quite new to the great majority of readers -is but a republication of papers published years ago, as we before observed. Not that we need apologise for it on this score; it is consistent throughout, and as various and free from repetition in its beauties as the scenery which it would delineate. Nor less remarkable is it for the geniality and tenderness of its social sentiments, than the happiness of its criticisms on matters of taste. So we may fairly say that it is a book to guide the hand, refresh the mind,

and warm the heart at the same time. And yet more, as a practical guide on matters of art, and as supplying tests by which the aspirant painter may learn whether or not there is the right stuff in him, we can imagine no mere formal manual superior in value. Let us take the following passage, referring to the spots where only sketching is likely to be found which is worth going to seek :

"There is no studying landscape proper near large cities, though there are effects for every one's daubing. A black windmill throwing its hideous arms into a white cloud bursting out of a darkgrey one, a moor, and a reedy puddle, will thoroughly satisfy the ambition of many, humble enough to abject poverty in subject, presuming enough in effect. They take great pains that their deformithey become confirmed in their vulgar vanities, let them take coach an hundred miles or so, and follow the course of some of our sweet rivers. Rivers are always poetical; they move, or glide, or break into fall and rapid, through their courses, as if they were full of life, and were on nature's mysterious errands. The sunbeams gleam upon them with messages from the heavens. Trees bend fragrance, grow in their music; flowers to them, and, receiving freshness and kiss them, love haunts them, silence keeps awake in their caverns and sequestered nooks, and there the nightingale sings to her; the bright and many-coloured bow arches their falls, and the

ties shall stare. Ere it be too late, and

blessed and blessing moon shines on them, and gifts them with magic. Let them be followed from their sources, in mountain or moor, through dell, dingle, ravine, and more open valley, over which the clouds loiter to admire,-" do rest;" and if the mind of the sketcher do not

drink poetry through his eye, and convey it to his portfolio, he may be sure neither nature nor art intended him to be painter or sketcher. But if he finds his soul poetic, and imbued with the feelings of the poets he has read, he will call up such ideas as will suit his scenery, enable him to give it a new character, perhaps

nowise inconsistent with that it has or

indicates, and he will thus study with a purpose."

In another place the Sketcher thinks it worth his while to descend to plain matter of fact, and to give some particulars about a medium

which he has found exceedingly serviceable in water-colour painting. Water-colour painting, he remarks, is the peculiar glory of the English school. "Undoubtedly we may claim the invention of painting in watercolours, and pre-eminence in that art beyond comparison." We never could quite understand why this department has been considered inferior to oil-painting. It may have been, till lately, deficient in the power of expressing everything; but so much has been done in the invention and application of colours, especially in the use of body-colours as a substitute for the scratchings and erasures of the old style, and such a sufficiency of expression has been gained, that although a certain richness always attends the use of oil-colours, it would be difficult to decide which style was most perfect in the representation of nature. Surely the water-colour artist has gained the right to call his productions paintings, instead of merely drawings? The Sketcher is speaking of the value of a medium mixed with chalk, for giving body both to oil and water colours in sketching:

"You observe, I have here my chalk mixed up in bottles (I have mixed it up with rice-water, to make it adhere), and thus I am enabled to use it as freely as I would white on the oil palette. Now, here is the deep-brown water; I have marked in the stones beneath, and some variety of colour, but the whole will bear a wash of umber; and while that is wet-here we have it-thus, I take a lump of this half-liquid chalk upon my brush, and drive it in lines, imitating the course of the water; before that is quite dry, I shall glaze it over here and there with those yellow and greyishgreen tints you see playing about the half foam-thus, and work on again,

with fresh masses, and in the same manner, on the falls of the water, continually glazing over till I get something of the transparency.

The

operation of chalk in oil is quite the reverse of that in water colours. In the latter it works by its opacity; in the former, by furnishing a transparent medium, or nearly so."

These practical remarks show that the book is not the production of a mere theorist, but of one who made

the art the occupation of his hands as well as of his brain.

But it may be said that Mr Eagles, the author of The Sketcher, though he could write on the subject of the arts, never made himself known by his paintings, and yet it is not the less true that his life was devoted to painting. He never painted for the public. Very few of his pictures have ever been exhibited, and those few have been exhibited without ostentation, and with a perfect carelessness as to the opinion of the public concerning them. His sketches, on which we consider his fame as an artist principally to rest, have ever remained in the possession of himself and a few private friends. Thus his most lifelike and natural scenes have never been placed before the public eye, and it is not likely that they ever will be. Yet his power of production was enormous, and he seemed so perfectly master of his materials that he would effect, when seemingly playing with them, what others could only effect by laborious attention. He studied to the bottom the subject of media and pigments, and there was scarcely any, in one or the other class, with the comparative merits of which he was not acquainted. Yet profound in the knowledge of art, and knowing every nook and cranny of the secret recesses of woodland, sea-side, and river-side nature, he may perhaps have laid himself open to the charge of a want of catholicity of taste, in the rejection of hosts of subjects which others admired, and thought worthy of recording on canvass. If he erred here-and we doubt if he did the error arose from his raise the art to which he was so defastidiousness of taste, and anxiety to votedly attached. Certain it is that he held forth to admiration, and illustrated the greatest beauties of nature; and if he passed over the lesser as no beauties at all, the omission is not very greatly to be regretted. On the whole, the Sketcher papers present an unique and original view of art; and even the uninitiated in the mysteries of the brush cannot rise from their perusal without a farther prospect into at least the outer courts of the temple, than they have been able to obtain by other means.

THE ATHELINGS; OR, THE THREE GIFTS.

PART III.

CHAPTER XVI.

It would be impossible to describe, after that first beginning, the pleasant interest and excitement kept up in this family concerning the fortune of Agnes. All kinds of vague and delightful magnificences floated in the minds of the two girls: guesses of prodigious sums of money and unimaginable honours were constantly hazarded by Marian; and Agnes, though she laughed at, and professed to disbelieve these splendid imaginations, was, beyond all controversy, greatly influenced by them. The house held up its head, and began to dream of fame and greatness. Even Mr Atheling, in a trance of exalted and exulting fancy, went down self-absorbed through the busy moving streets, and scarcely noticed the steady current of the Islingtonian public setting in strong for the City. Even mamma, going about her household business, had something visionary in her eye; she saw a long way beyond to-day's little cares and difficulties-the grand distant lights of the future streaming down on the fair heads of her two girls. It was not possible, at least in the mother's fancy, to separate these two who were so closely united. No one in the house, indeed, could recognise Agnes without Marian, or Marian without Agnes; and this new fortune belonged to both.

And then there followed all those indefinite but glorious adjuncts involved in this beginning of fate society, friends, a class of people, as those good dreamers supposed, more able to understand and appreciate the simple and modest refinement of these young minds;-all the world was to be moved by this one book everybody was to render homage all society to be disturbed with eagerness. Mr Atheling adjured the family not to raise their expectations too high, yet raised his own to the most magnificent level of unlikely

greatness. Mrs Atheling had generous compunctions of mind as she looked at the ribbons already half faded. Agnes now was in a very different position from her who made the unthrity purchase of a colour which would not bear the sun. Mamma held a very solemn synod in her own mind, and was half resolved to buy new ones upon her own responsibility. But then there was something shabby in building upon an expectation which as yet was so indefuite. And we are glad to say there was so much sobriety and good sense in the house of the Athelings, despite their glorious anticipations, that the ribbons of Agnes and Marian, though they began to full Mrs Atheling's prediction, still steadily did their duty, and bade fair to last out their appointed time.

This was a very pleasant time to the whole household. Their position, their comfort, their external circumstances, were in no respect changed, yet everything was brightened and radiant in an overflow of hope. There was neither ill nor sickness nor sorrow to mar the enjoyment; everything at this period was going well with them, to whom many a day and many a year had gone full heavily. They were not aware themselves of their present happiness; they were all looking eagerly forward, bent upon a future which was to be so much superior to to-day, and none dreamned how little delight was to be got out of the realisation in comparison with the delight they all took in the hope. They could afford so well to laugh at all their homely difficulties to make jokes upon mamma's grave looks as she discovered an extravagant shilling or two in the household accounts found out that Susan had been wasteful in the kitchen. It was so odd, so funny, to contrast these minute cares with the golden age which was to come.

or

which he has found exceedingly serviceable in water-colour painting. Water-colour painting, he remarks, is the peculiar glory of the English school. "Undoubtedly we may claim the invention of painting in watercolours, and pre-eminence in that art beyond comparison." We never could quite understand why this department has been considered inferior to oil-painting. It may have been, till lately, deficient in the power of expressing everything; but so much has been done in the invention and application of colours, especially in the use of body-colours as a substitute for the scratchings and erasures of the old style, and such a sufficiency of expression has been gained, that although a certain richness always attends the use of oil-colours, it would be difficult to decide which style was most perfect in the representation of nature. Surely the water-colour artist has gained the right to call his productions paintings, instead of merely drawings? The Sketcher is speaking of the value of a medium mixed with chalk, for giving body both to oil and water colours in sketching:

"You observe, I have here my chalk mixed up in bottles (I have mixed it up with rice-water, to make it adhere), and thus I am enabled to use it as freely as

I would white on the oil palette. Now, here is the deep-brown water; I have marked in the stones beneath, and some variety of colour, but the whole will bear a wash of umber; and while that is wet-here we have it-thus, I take a lump of this half-liquid chalk upon my brush, and drive it in lines, imitating the course of the water; before that is quite dry, I shall glaze it over here and there with those yellow and greyishgreen tints you see playing about the half foam-thus, and work on again,

with fresh masses, and in the same manner, on the falls of the water, continually glazing over till I get something of the transparency. The

operation of chalk in oil is quite the reverse of that in water colours. In the latter it works by its opacity; in the former, by furnishing a transparent medium, or nearly so."

These practical remarks show that the book is not the production of a mere theorist, but of one who made

the art the occupation of his hands as well as of his brain.

But it may be said that Mr Eagles, the author of The Sketcher, though he could write on the subject of the arts, never made himself known by his paintings, and yet it is not the less true that his life was devoted to painting. He never painted for the public. Very few of his pictures have ever been exhibited, and those few have been exhibited without ostentation, and with a perfect carelessness as to the opinion of the public concerning them. His sketches, on which we consider his fame as an artist principally to rest, have ever remained in the possession of himself and a few private friends. Thus his most lifelike and natural scenes have never been placed before the public eye, and it is not likely that they ever will be. Yet his power of production was enormous, and he seemed so perfectly master of his materials that he would effect, when seemingly playing with them, what others could only effect by laborious attention. He studied to the bottom the subject of media and pigments, and there was scarcely any, in one or the other class, with the comparative merits of which he was not acquainted. Yet profound in the knowledge of art, and knowing every nook and cranny sea-side, and river-side nature, he of the secret recesses of woodland, may perhaps have laid himself open to the charge of a want of catholicity of taste, in the rejection of hosts of subjects which others admired, and thought worthy of recording on canvass. If he erred here-and we doubt if he did the error arose from his fastidiousness of taste, and anxiety to raise the art to which he was so devotedly attached. Certain it is that he held forth to admiration, and illustrated the greatest beauties of nature; and if he passed over the lesser as no beauties at all, the omission is not very greatly to be regretted. On the whole, the Sketcher papers present an unique and original view of art; and even the uninitiated in the mysteries of the brush cannot rise from their perusal without a farther prospect into at least the outer courts of the temple, than they have been able to obtain by other means.

4

THE ATHELINGS; OR, THE THREE GIFTS.

PART III.

CHAPTER XVI.

It would be impossible to describe, after that first beginning, the pleasant interest and excitement kept up in this family concerning the fortune of Agnes. All kinds of vague and delightful magnificences floated in the minds of the two girls: guesses of prodigious sums of money and unimaginable honours were constantly hazarded by Marian; and Agnes, though she laughed at, and professed to disbelieve these splendid imaginations, was, beyond all controversy, greatly influenced by them. The house held up its head, and began to dream of fame and greatness. Even Mr Atheling, in a trance of exalted and exulting fancy, went down self-absorbed through the busy moving streets, and scarcely noticed the steady current of the Islingtonian public setting in strong for the City. Even mamma, going about her household business, had something visionary in her eye; she saw a long way beyond to-day's little cares and difficulties-the grand distant lights of the future streaming down on the fair heads of her two girls. It was not possible, at least in the mother's fancy, to separate these two who were so closely. united. No one in the house, indeed, could recognise Agnes without Marian, or Marian without Agnes; and this new fortune belonged to both.

And then there followed all those indefinite but glorious adjuncts involved in this beginning of fate society, friends, a class of people, as those good dreamers supposed, more able to understand and appreciate the simple and modest refinement of these young minds;-all the world was to be moved by this one book everybody was to render homage all society to be disturbed with eagerness. Mr Atheling adjured the family not to raise their expectations too high, yet raised his own to the most magnificent level of unlikely

greatness. Mrs Atheling had generous compunctions of mind as she looked at the ribbons already half faded. Agnes now was in a very different position from her who made the unthrifty purchase of a colour which would not bear the sun. Mamma held a very solemn synod in her own mind, and was half resolved to buy new ones upon her own responsibility. But then there was something shabby in building upon an expectation which as yet was so indefnite. And we are glad to say there was so much sobriety and good sense in the house of the Athelings, despite their glorious anticipations, that the ribbons of Agnes and Marian, though they began to fulfil Mrs Atheling's prediction, still steadily did their duty, and bade fair to last out their appointed time.

This was a very pleasant time to the whole household. Their position, their comfort, their external circumstances, were in no respect changed, yet everything was brightened and radiant in an overflow of hope. There was neither ill nor sickness nor sorrow to mar the enjoyment; everything at this period was going well with them, to whom many a day and many a year had gone full heavily. They were not aware themselves of their present happiness; they were all looking eagerly forward, bent upon a future which was to be so much superior to to-day, and none dreamed how little delight was to be got out of the realisation in comparison with the delight they all took in the hope. They could afford so well to laugh at all their homely difficulties to make jokes upon mamma's grave looks as she discovered an extravagant shilling or two in the household accounts-or found out that Susan had been wasteful in the kitchen. It was so odd, so funny, to contrast these minute cares with the golden age which was to come.

« PredošláPokračovať »