O for boyhood’s painless play,Sleep that wakes in laughing day,Health that mocks the doctor’s rules,Knowledge never learned of schools,Of the wild bee’s morning chase,Of the wild-flower’s time and place,Flight of fowl, and habitudeOf the tenants of the wood;—For, eschewing books and tasks,Nature answers all he asks;Hand in hand with her he walks,Face to face with her he talks,Part and parcel of her joy,—Blessings on the barefoot boy!Whittier.
O for boyhood’s painless play,Sleep that wakes in laughing day,Health that mocks the doctor’s rules,Knowledge never learned of schools,Of the wild bee’s morning chase,Of the wild-flower’s time and place,Flight of fowl, and habitudeOf the tenants of the wood;—For, eschewing books and tasks,Nature answers all he asks;Hand in hand with her he walks,Face to face with her he talks,Part and parcel of her joy,—Blessings on the barefoot boy!Whittier.
THE CHILDREN OF FIELD AND VILLAGE.
The most fortunate children in the world are those whose first lessons in life have been learned on the lap of Mother Nature. Taught by her to know and love all the beautiful things of the glad green earth; versed in the mystic language of woodland birds and beasts; trained to the skilful use of eye and muscle,—they possess the secret of a happiness which knows no equal. Theirs is a life of perfect liberty, untrammelled by the false conventions of society, uninjured by over-indulgence, untainted by contact with vice. Growing up under these conditions into a healthy and vigorous beauty, the children of field and village have longbeen a source of delight and inspiration to both poet and painter.Ingenrepainting, Holland gave the initiative to the art world in the works of Jan Steen, the Teniers, and others. The influence of the Dutch school at length made itself felt in England; and after the renaissance of British art, in the middle of the eighteenth century, many painters arose to interpret the conditions of rustic life peculiar to England.First on this list stands the name of Thomas Gainsborough.[7]From early boyhood he loved nature with all the intensity of a true artist’s soul, and many picturesque scenes in the vicinity of his native Sudbury were indelibly impressed upon his youthful mind. Later in life, when at the height of his success as a great London painter, his favorite summer resort was Richmond, where, wandering about the country from day to day, he met many aninteresting village child whose face was transferred to his canvas. Fortunate little models, these; for the artist always rewarded them for their sittings with lavish generosity.rustic children.—gainsborough.One particular boy, Jack Hill by name, so charmed Gainsborough that he actually adopted the lad, and immortalized his handsome features in two paintings.[8]Jack Hill did not live up to his privileges, and, preferring his old free life to the restrictions of a more elegant household, he ran away. He was, however, never forgotten; and after Gainsborough died, his good widow provided amply for the youth’s welfare.Perhaps the most extensively known of all Gainsborough’s delineations of country child-life is the Rustic Children of the National Gallery. The central figure is a young girl, standing, with a child in her arms; a boy sits on the bank besideher with a bundle of fagots. The group is artistically conceived, with one of Gainsborough’s characteristic landscapes as a background, showing a cottage home. The children are graceful and natural, with that indefinable poetic charm peculiar to the painter’s work.A picture attracting a great deal of admiration in the lifetime of Gainsborough, was the Boy at the Stile. While this treasure was still in the hands of the artist, he was visited one day by Colonel Hamilton, then considered the finest violinist of his times. Gainsborough, a devoted lover of music, begged him to play, and when the first air was finished, rapturously exclaimed, “Now, my dear Colonel, if you will but go on, I will give you that picture of the Boy at the Stile, which you so wished to purchase of me.”In half an hour the prize was won, and both parties were well satisfied with the agreement.In studying Gainsborough’s rustic children as a class, it is noticeable that he emphasizes the pathetic side of their life; instead of a thrifty, tidy appearance, in which England’s village children are by no means lacking, he gives his subjects a careless, neglected air. The Rustic Children of the National Gallery are unnecessarily ragged; their hair is wild and dishevelled, and their general appearance untidy. Many of the children of the most celebrated pictures are attractive from a delicate, refined beauty, rather than from the robust and healthy vitality we naturally associate with country life. This makes their surroundings incongruous, and we feel sorry that they are not in their true sphere. The child who stands, half-clad, before the hearth-fire, in the painting called the “Little Cottager,” has the delicate features of a true aristocrat. No cottage boy this, with shapely hands and large,melancholy eyes. His wistfulness is so touching that we would fain snatch him from his surroundings, and set him down amidst the soft luxuries which belong to him by right.The Shepherd Boy in a Storm has the face and expression of a poet, as he lifts his beautiful eyes to the overhanging clouds, with nothing of fear or shrinking, but with apparent admiration for the grandeur of Nature.Gainsborough painted many scenes of child-life in which animals are introduced, as in the picture of a girl holding a child on a donkey, and in one representing two shepherd boys looking on at fighting dogs. He did not hesitate before a subject which would have appalled most artists, and which, in other hands, would have been vulgar and common,—A Girl Feeding Pigs. This he painted with such skill that Reynolds instantly recognized itsgreatness, and eagerly purchased it for a sum far in advance of the price modestly named by the painter. The amusing anecdote is related concerning this work that a countryman, who studied it attentively some time, gave it as his opinion that “they be deadly like pigs; but nobody ever saw pigs feeding together but what one on ’em had a foot in the trough.”Gainsborough[9]is pronounced by Ruskin the purest colorist of the English school, taking rank beside Rubens, and adding a lustre to the fame of British art which time can do nothing to dim. His style is so peculiarly individual in its characteristics that it cannot properly be compared with that of any other artist; but his predilection for subjects drawn from rural child-life finds a parallel in the work of his French contemporary, Jean Baptiste Greuze.[10]The pictures by which Greuze made hisearly reputation, and which perhaps he never excelled in later times, were the Father Explaining the Bible to his Children,[11]and the Village Bride.[12]Both represent family scenes among village people, and contain, as their most charming features, some delightfully natural children. One could scarcely find anything more deliciously childlike than the mischievous little ones who gather about the table to listen to the Father Explaining the Bible, and whose love of fun even this solemn occasion cannot repress. Equally attractive are the young people gathering affectionately and tearfully about their pretty elder sister, the Village Bride, who comes with her lover to receive the parental blessing.The appearance of these two compositions made their artist famous, and won for him the ardent admiration and powerful friendship of the encyclopædist Diderot.Continuing his work along this new[13]line of subjects, Greuze went on to paint many other scenes in the child-life of the country. Two notable companion pictures of this kind are the Departure of the Cradle, and the Return from the Nurse, founded upon a phase of French village life quite unknown in many other countries, namely, the custom among busy working-people of sending their infants out to board with nurses. Unnatural as was the custom, it by no means indicated a lack of family affection, as is seen in these charming compositions. In both cases, the child, at first an infant, and later a little boy a year or two old, is the centre of the group, fondled and admired by all.The pre-eminence of Greuze was due not only to the entire novelty of his chosen range of subjects, but to the exquisite beauty of his technique. He excelled in painting those fresh carnations,“mixed with lilies and roses,” as the French used to say, and diversified with blue-gray shadows and warm reflected light. Such characteristics are easily carried to extremes, and were often exaggerated by Greuze himself; but when held in true control they are a delight to the eye of the true color-lover.An example of his coloring, in its most lovely aspects, is the Trumpet. The scene is a cottage interior, in which a young mother, with a babe in her arms, sits beside a cradle containing another little one, and turns to quiet her roguish boy, who stands somewhat sulkily by her chair, reluctant to forego the pleasure of blowing on his trumpet. “Silence! do not awaken him!” is what the mother seems to say; and these words form the title under which the picture first appeared.Greuze could not altogether escape theblight of that artificiality which was everywhere characteristic of his times, and nowhere more conspicuous than in France. “Soyez piquant, si vous ne pouvez pas être vrai,” was his advice to a fellow artist, Ducreux; and his own work too often shows evidence of the sacrifice of truth to piquancy. His single figures and heads are not, as a class, so true to nature as his compositions, although they are much better known to the public. Scattered far and wide through all the great art galleries of the world, they have been greatly admired for their delicate coloring, and for those qualities of prettiness which are always attractive.Nearly all these purport to be representations of children, but they are certainly not like the children of our own households, nor, indeed, like those of the same artist’s domestic pictures. They reverse the proverb, by being young headson old shoulders, the face and features of childhood on the mature and well-developed figure of womanhood. The expression, too, is a curious combination of childlike simplicity with the sentimental melancholy of young maidenhood; and one cannot escape the impression that the models are not genuine peasant children, but pretty and somewhat worldly young women, masquerading in pastoral costumes for a fancy ball.From the long list of examples of this class, both figures and heads, a few well-known subjects will suggest the type: The Milkmaid, the Little Pouter, Simplicity, the Girl with an Orange, and the Broken Pitcher.the broken pitcher.—greuze.The last is probably more familiar than any other work of Greuze. It attained an immense popularity in the lifetime of the artist, attracting many people to his studio. Among the visitors was MademoisellePhilipon, afterwards known to fame as Madame Roland, and her delightful description[14]gives a complete idea of the picture:—“It is a little girl, naïve, fresh, charming, who has just broken her pitcher; she holds it on her arm, near the fountain where the accident occurred. Her eyes are downcast, her lips half parted; she tries to account for her mishap, and does not know if she is in fault. Nothing could be more piquant and charming. The only criticism one could suggest is that Monseiur Greuze has not made the little maid sorry enough, so that in the future she will not be tempted to return to the fountain!”The heroine of the broken pitcher is dressed in white, has blue eyes and auburn hair, cherry lips, and pink-and-white complexion.For twenty-five years Greuze was thefashion in Paris. With all his faults, he was immeasurably superior to his French contemporaries, and his work was a decided step towards a new era. With the great political and social changes inaugurated in France early in the nineteenth century, an entirely new style of art, literary and graphic, was made possible, and a new school of painters arose to portray French peasant life.No modern artist has chosen a field which exactly corresponds to that of Greuze, the tendency being rather to neglect the child element to which he devoted so much energy. One painter may be mentioned, however, who has contributed a few valuable additions to this department of art,—William Adolphe Bouguereau.The remarkable number of works which Bouguereau has produced since his first great success in 1854 have made himdistinguished for a large variety of subjects; but the pictures by which he has touched the hearts of the people are those in which he portrays the peasants of his own sunny land,—sweet, shy, dark-eyed girls, with masses of black hair pushed back loosely from their foreheads.One is a Little Shepherdess, who stands with careless grace poising a crook across her shoulders, while her eyes meet ours with a frank yet modest gaze. Again the same girl rests from her labors, sitting on a stone, lost in revery. Another sweet child is the girl seated by a well, with a broken pitcher lying on the ground beside her. Her hands are clasped on her knee, as she bends slightly forward in a pensive attitude, her large eyes full of childish pathos. Cajolery also belongs to this set, and is so named from the caresses with which a little girl begs some favor of an older sister, whose merry eyes show thatshe fully understands the secrets of child diplomacy.Younger than any of these children is the bewitching little gypsy, whose tangled curls frame a round, dimpled face, with rosebud mouth, and big black eyes looking bashfully askance. There is a peculiar charm in the child’s shyness, as if, like some wild creature of the woods, she would turn and flee before a nearer approach.Bouguereau’s work, academic in style, and always refined and elegant in manner, has qualities of artistic excellence which place him in the foremost rank; and we are glad to believe that for many generations to come his lovely little peasant girls will be widely known and loved.child head.—bouguereau.From the dark-eyed children of sunny France to the fair-haired sons and daughters of the Saxon race is a long step, which introduces us to child-life of a totally different type. Childhood in therural districts of Germany and Switzerland has been very completely portrayed by Johann Georg Meyer, better known as Meyer von Bremen,—the name he has taken in honor of his native city.With an intense sympathy for all the pleasures of childhood, Meyer unites a wonderfully delicate sense of the artistic and picturesque. His fertility of invention seems well-nigh inexhaustible. He has given us cottage scenes and out-of-door life with impartial liberality, and has shown equal skill of treatment, whether he handles groups or single figures.His subjects are drawn largely from life in the Hessian, Bavarian, and Swiss Alps, where he has carefully studied the manners and customs of the people. The cottage interiors have all the characteristic quaintness and charm of these peasant homes. High wooden chairs, of the “fiddle-back” pattern, are the conspicuous pieces offurniture; rich old cabinets stand against the walls, and oddly shaped earthern jars are ranged on shelves. The light comes through little diamond-paned windows, and gleams on floors of hard wood, unadorned with carpet or rug. In these surroundings, groups of flaxen-haired children sport in all the sweet innocence of healthy, happy childhood. Sometimes they gather eagerly about the table to play with their Pet Canary; at another time they cluster about their mother’s knee to peep admiringly at the wonderful new baby in her arms, and to hear the mysterious announcement that The Storks Brought It. Again, the centre of their attention is the tiny brother gleefully taking his first uncertain steps towards the outstretched arms of his young mother.the little rabbit-seller.—meyer von bremen.The out-of-door scenes have the picturesque mountain scenery of the Alps for their background, and sometimes a prettycottage is included in the scene. A characteristic example is the Little Rabbit-Seller. A group of children gather round a little girl, who carries, suspended from her shoulders, a large basket of rabbits. Two of the number peep with intense interest into the basket, delighted with the opportunity to feed the pretty creatures. The others are talking with the young merchant,—a school-boy with book satchel held behind him, and an older girl holding a curly-haired child on her back. The pure, gentle face of the young girl is one not to be easily forgotten, and which reappears on other canvases of the artist. The affectionate care of this older sister for the child she carries is one of many instances in which the same trait is shown in Meyer’s pictures, and is eminently characteristic of the Germans.The earnest piety in which the children of these simple-hearted people are rearedis beautifully expressed in the companion pictures, Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer, as well as in one called Simple Devotion, where a little girl offers a bouquet to the Virgin of a wayside shrine.In whatever mood the children are portrayed, they are always entirely unconscious of observers, never posing for the artist, but caught unawares on his canvas, in the midst of their pursuits. In this way they always make pictures with “stories” in them, of just the kind to delight the heart of a child.Such art carries a beautiful and enduring lesson, whether the scenes it represents are German or French, English or American. In these visions of the simple and joyous life of the country, we are brought, as it were, face to face with Nature, to enjoy her sweetest and most beneficent influence.
The most fortunate children in the world are those whose first lessons in life have been learned on the lap of Mother Nature. Taught by her to know and love all the beautiful things of the glad green earth; versed in the mystic language of woodland birds and beasts; trained to the skilful use of eye and muscle,—they possess the secret of a happiness which knows no equal. Theirs is a life of perfect liberty, untrammelled by the false conventions of society, uninjured by over-indulgence, untainted by contact with vice. Growing up under these conditions into a healthy and vigorous beauty, the children of field and village have longbeen a source of delight and inspiration to both poet and painter.
Ingenrepainting, Holland gave the initiative to the art world in the works of Jan Steen, the Teniers, and others. The influence of the Dutch school at length made itself felt in England; and after the renaissance of British art, in the middle of the eighteenth century, many painters arose to interpret the conditions of rustic life peculiar to England.
First on this list stands the name of Thomas Gainsborough.[7]From early boyhood he loved nature with all the intensity of a true artist’s soul, and many picturesque scenes in the vicinity of his native Sudbury were indelibly impressed upon his youthful mind. Later in life, when at the height of his success as a great London painter, his favorite summer resort was Richmond, where, wandering about the country from day to day, he met many aninteresting village child whose face was transferred to his canvas. Fortunate little models, these; for the artist always rewarded them for their sittings with lavish generosity.
rustic children.—gainsborough.
One particular boy, Jack Hill by name, so charmed Gainsborough that he actually adopted the lad, and immortalized his handsome features in two paintings.[8]Jack Hill did not live up to his privileges, and, preferring his old free life to the restrictions of a more elegant household, he ran away. He was, however, never forgotten; and after Gainsborough died, his good widow provided amply for the youth’s welfare.
Perhaps the most extensively known of all Gainsborough’s delineations of country child-life is the Rustic Children of the National Gallery. The central figure is a young girl, standing, with a child in her arms; a boy sits on the bank besideher with a bundle of fagots. The group is artistically conceived, with one of Gainsborough’s characteristic landscapes as a background, showing a cottage home. The children are graceful and natural, with that indefinable poetic charm peculiar to the painter’s work.
A picture attracting a great deal of admiration in the lifetime of Gainsborough, was the Boy at the Stile. While this treasure was still in the hands of the artist, he was visited one day by Colonel Hamilton, then considered the finest violinist of his times. Gainsborough, a devoted lover of music, begged him to play, and when the first air was finished, rapturously exclaimed, “Now, my dear Colonel, if you will but go on, I will give you that picture of the Boy at the Stile, which you so wished to purchase of me.”
In half an hour the prize was won, and both parties were well satisfied with the agreement.
In studying Gainsborough’s rustic children as a class, it is noticeable that he emphasizes the pathetic side of their life; instead of a thrifty, tidy appearance, in which England’s village children are by no means lacking, he gives his subjects a careless, neglected air. The Rustic Children of the National Gallery are unnecessarily ragged; their hair is wild and dishevelled, and their general appearance untidy. Many of the children of the most celebrated pictures are attractive from a delicate, refined beauty, rather than from the robust and healthy vitality we naturally associate with country life. This makes their surroundings incongruous, and we feel sorry that they are not in their true sphere. The child who stands, half-clad, before the hearth-fire, in the painting called the “Little Cottager,” has the delicate features of a true aristocrat. No cottage boy this, with shapely hands and large,melancholy eyes. His wistfulness is so touching that we would fain snatch him from his surroundings, and set him down amidst the soft luxuries which belong to him by right.
The Shepherd Boy in a Storm has the face and expression of a poet, as he lifts his beautiful eyes to the overhanging clouds, with nothing of fear or shrinking, but with apparent admiration for the grandeur of Nature.
Gainsborough painted many scenes of child-life in which animals are introduced, as in the picture of a girl holding a child on a donkey, and in one representing two shepherd boys looking on at fighting dogs. He did not hesitate before a subject which would have appalled most artists, and which, in other hands, would have been vulgar and common,—A Girl Feeding Pigs. This he painted with such skill that Reynolds instantly recognized itsgreatness, and eagerly purchased it for a sum far in advance of the price modestly named by the painter. The amusing anecdote is related concerning this work that a countryman, who studied it attentively some time, gave it as his opinion that “they be deadly like pigs; but nobody ever saw pigs feeding together but what one on ’em had a foot in the trough.”
Gainsborough[9]is pronounced by Ruskin the purest colorist of the English school, taking rank beside Rubens, and adding a lustre to the fame of British art which time can do nothing to dim. His style is so peculiarly individual in its characteristics that it cannot properly be compared with that of any other artist; but his predilection for subjects drawn from rural child-life finds a parallel in the work of his French contemporary, Jean Baptiste Greuze.[10]
The pictures by which Greuze made hisearly reputation, and which perhaps he never excelled in later times, were the Father Explaining the Bible to his Children,[11]and the Village Bride.[12]Both represent family scenes among village people, and contain, as their most charming features, some delightfully natural children. One could scarcely find anything more deliciously childlike than the mischievous little ones who gather about the table to listen to the Father Explaining the Bible, and whose love of fun even this solemn occasion cannot repress. Equally attractive are the young people gathering affectionately and tearfully about their pretty elder sister, the Village Bride, who comes with her lover to receive the parental blessing.
The appearance of these two compositions made their artist famous, and won for him the ardent admiration and powerful friendship of the encyclopædist Diderot.Continuing his work along this new[13]line of subjects, Greuze went on to paint many other scenes in the child-life of the country. Two notable companion pictures of this kind are the Departure of the Cradle, and the Return from the Nurse, founded upon a phase of French village life quite unknown in many other countries, namely, the custom among busy working-people of sending their infants out to board with nurses. Unnatural as was the custom, it by no means indicated a lack of family affection, as is seen in these charming compositions. In both cases, the child, at first an infant, and later a little boy a year or two old, is the centre of the group, fondled and admired by all.
The pre-eminence of Greuze was due not only to the entire novelty of his chosen range of subjects, but to the exquisite beauty of his technique. He excelled in painting those fresh carnations,“mixed with lilies and roses,” as the French used to say, and diversified with blue-gray shadows and warm reflected light. Such characteristics are easily carried to extremes, and were often exaggerated by Greuze himself; but when held in true control they are a delight to the eye of the true color-lover.
An example of his coloring, in its most lovely aspects, is the Trumpet. The scene is a cottage interior, in which a young mother, with a babe in her arms, sits beside a cradle containing another little one, and turns to quiet her roguish boy, who stands somewhat sulkily by her chair, reluctant to forego the pleasure of blowing on his trumpet. “Silence! do not awaken him!” is what the mother seems to say; and these words form the title under which the picture first appeared.
Greuze could not altogether escape theblight of that artificiality which was everywhere characteristic of his times, and nowhere more conspicuous than in France. “Soyez piquant, si vous ne pouvez pas être vrai,” was his advice to a fellow artist, Ducreux; and his own work too often shows evidence of the sacrifice of truth to piquancy. His single figures and heads are not, as a class, so true to nature as his compositions, although they are much better known to the public. Scattered far and wide through all the great art galleries of the world, they have been greatly admired for their delicate coloring, and for those qualities of prettiness which are always attractive.
Nearly all these purport to be representations of children, but they are certainly not like the children of our own households, nor, indeed, like those of the same artist’s domestic pictures. They reverse the proverb, by being young headson old shoulders, the face and features of childhood on the mature and well-developed figure of womanhood. The expression, too, is a curious combination of childlike simplicity with the sentimental melancholy of young maidenhood; and one cannot escape the impression that the models are not genuine peasant children, but pretty and somewhat worldly young women, masquerading in pastoral costumes for a fancy ball.
From the long list of examples of this class, both figures and heads, a few well-known subjects will suggest the type: The Milkmaid, the Little Pouter, Simplicity, the Girl with an Orange, and the Broken Pitcher.
the broken pitcher.—greuze.
The last is probably more familiar than any other work of Greuze. It attained an immense popularity in the lifetime of the artist, attracting many people to his studio. Among the visitors was MademoisellePhilipon, afterwards known to fame as Madame Roland, and her delightful description[14]gives a complete idea of the picture:—
“It is a little girl, naïve, fresh, charming, who has just broken her pitcher; she holds it on her arm, near the fountain where the accident occurred. Her eyes are downcast, her lips half parted; she tries to account for her mishap, and does not know if she is in fault. Nothing could be more piquant and charming. The only criticism one could suggest is that Monseiur Greuze has not made the little maid sorry enough, so that in the future she will not be tempted to return to the fountain!”
The heroine of the broken pitcher is dressed in white, has blue eyes and auburn hair, cherry lips, and pink-and-white complexion.
For twenty-five years Greuze was thefashion in Paris. With all his faults, he was immeasurably superior to his French contemporaries, and his work was a decided step towards a new era. With the great political and social changes inaugurated in France early in the nineteenth century, an entirely new style of art, literary and graphic, was made possible, and a new school of painters arose to portray French peasant life.
No modern artist has chosen a field which exactly corresponds to that of Greuze, the tendency being rather to neglect the child element to which he devoted so much energy. One painter may be mentioned, however, who has contributed a few valuable additions to this department of art,—William Adolphe Bouguereau.
The remarkable number of works which Bouguereau has produced since his first great success in 1854 have made himdistinguished for a large variety of subjects; but the pictures by which he has touched the hearts of the people are those in which he portrays the peasants of his own sunny land,—sweet, shy, dark-eyed girls, with masses of black hair pushed back loosely from their foreheads.
One is a Little Shepherdess, who stands with careless grace poising a crook across her shoulders, while her eyes meet ours with a frank yet modest gaze. Again the same girl rests from her labors, sitting on a stone, lost in revery. Another sweet child is the girl seated by a well, with a broken pitcher lying on the ground beside her. Her hands are clasped on her knee, as she bends slightly forward in a pensive attitude, her large eyes full of childish pathos. Cajolery also belongs to this set, and is so named from the caresses with which a little girl begs some favor of an older sister, whose merry eyes show thatshe fully understands the secrets of child diplomacy.
Younger than any of these children is the bewitching little gypsy, whose tangled curls frame a round, dimpled face, with rosebud mouth, and big black eyes looking bashfully askance. There is a peculiar charm in the child’s shyness, as if, like some wild creature of the woods, she would turn and flee before a nearer approach.
Bouguereau’s work, academic in style, and always refined and elegant in manner, has qualities of artistic excellence which place him in the foremost rank; and we are glad to believe that for many generations to come his lovely little peasant girls will be widely known and loved.
child head.—bouguereau.
From the dark-eyed children of sunny France to the fair-haired sons and daughters of the Saxon race is a long step, which introduces us to child-life of a totally different type. Childhood in therural districts of Germany and Switzerland has been very completely portrayed by Johann Georg Meyer, better known as Meyer von Bremen,—the name he has taken in honor of his native city.
With an intense sympathy for all the pleasures of childhood, Meyer unites a wonderfully delicate sense of the artistic and picturesque. His fertility of invention seems well-nigh inexhaustible. He has given us cottage scenes and out-of-door life with impartial liberality, and has shown equal skill of treatment, whether he handles groups or single figures.
His subjects are drawn largely from life in the Hessian, Bavarian, and Swiss Alps, where he has carefully studied the manners and customs of the people. The cottage interiors have all the characteristic quaintness and charm of these peasant homes. High wooden chairs, of the “fiddle-back” pattern, are the conspicuous pieces offurniture; rich old cabinets stand against the walls, and oddly shaped earthern jars are ranged on shelves. The light comes through little diamond-paned windows, and gleams on floors of hard wood, unadorned with carpet or rug. In these surroundings, groups of flaxen-haired children sport in all the sweet innocence of healthy, happy childhood. Sometimes they gather eagerly about the table to play with their Pet Canary; at another time they cluster about their mother’s knee to peep admiringly at the wonderful new baby in her arms, and to hear the mysterious announcement that The Storks Brought It. Again, the centre of their attention is the tiny brother gleefully taking his first uncertain steps towards the outstretched arms of his young mother.
the little rabbit-seller.—meyer von bremen.
The out-of-door scenes have the picturesque mountain scenery of the Alps for their background, and sometimes a prettycottage is included in the scene. A characteristic example is the Little Rabbit-Seller. A group of children gather round a little girl, who carries, suspended from her shoulders, a large basket of rabbits. Two of the number peep with intense interest into the basket, delighted with the opportunity to feed the pretty creatures. The others are talking with the young merchant,—a school-boy with book satchel held behind him, and an older girl holding a curly-haired child on her back. The pure, gentle face of the young girl is one not to be easily forgotten, and which reappears on other canvases of the artist. The affectionate care of this older sister for the child she carries is one of many instances in which the same trait is shown in Meyer’s pictures, and is eminently characteristic of the Germans.
The earnest piety in which the children of these simple-hearted people are rearedis beautifully expressed in the companion pictures, Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer, as well as in one called Simple Devotion, where a little girl offers a bouquet to the Virgin of a wayside shrine.
In whatever mood the children are portrayed, they are always entirely unconscious of observers, never posing for the artist, but caught unawares on his canvas, in the midst of their pursuits. In this way they always make pictures with “stories” in them, of just the kind to delight the heart of a child.
Such art carries a beautiful and enduring lesson, whether the scenes it represents are German or French, English or American. In these visions of the simple and joyous life of the country, we are brought, as it were, face to face with Nature, to enjoy her sweetest and most beneficent influence.
When I was a beggarly boy,And lived in a cellar damp,I had not a friend nor a toy,But I had Aladdin’s lamp;When I could not sleep for cold,I had fire enough in my brain,And builded, with roofs of gold,My beautiful castles in Spain!Lowell.
When I was a beggarly boy,And lived in a cellar damp,I had not a friend nor a toy,But I had Aladdin’s lamp;When I could not sleep for cold,I had fire enough in my brain,And builded, with roofs of gold,My beautiful castles in Spain!Lowell.
THE CHILD-LIFE OF THE STREETS.
Ragged, dirty, and unkempt; untrained in all the pretty graces of refinement; deprived of all the fostering care of the home, how can the children of the street afford the artist any subjects for his canvas? Because, in spite of deprivation and poverty, they possess the imperishable treasure of a happy heart; and happiness is the true secret of the beauty of childhood. The child’s buoyant vitality is proof against any disadvantages in his external surroundings; for his horizon is limited to the present. Yesterday’s hunger is quickly forgotten in to-day’s plenty; the fatigue of themorning’s toil vanishes in the evening’s frolic; even the wounds of a cruel blow are readily healed by a friendly word. Unconscious of any disparity between himself and others, he is equally contented with his lot, whether his clothing be velvet or rags, whether his play-ground be a royal park or the streets of a great city.The artistic possibilities of street material lay long undiscovered through the first centuries of the Art Renaissance, when the subjects were chiefly religious and mythological. It is then to Murillo and his matchless pictures of the beggar boys of Seville that we may attribute the real origin of this department ofgenrepainting. Murillo had himself known something of poverty and homelessness. Left an orphan at the age of eleven, he was thrown entirely upon his own resources at nineteen, his equipment for life being a few years’ apprenticeship in the studioof his uncle, Juan del Castillo. In the years of hard work that followed, he laid the foundations of a career destined to be one of the most notable in the history of art.beggar boys.—murillo.There was held one day every week, in a large public square of Seville, an open-air market called theFeria, at which meat and fish, fruit and vegetables, old clothes and old iron, were heaped upon stalls or piled upon the pavement for the examination of customers. Last but not least of all the commodities here displayed were paintings, offered for sale by the artists themselves, who were supplied with brushes and colors to adapt the details to the purchasers’ taste. It may be imagined that these pictures of theFeriawere not works of high art, nor was there much stimulus to artistic talent in their production. Nevertheless, it was in this business that the young Murillo beganhis career; and it was in this way, doubtless, that he came to observe closely, and to store up in his artist’s memory the picturesque effects among the children who swarmed in the sunny square. Perfect types of glowing health were these nut-brown sons and daughters of Andalusia, enjoying life with the indolence and simple merriment characteristic of a southern race. It was Murillo’s delight to portray them in their happiest moods. Sometimes they are playing games on the pavement, as in the Dice Players; again, they are feasting upon the luscious native fruits, as in the celebrated pictures of the Munich Gallery. With what delicious enjoyment do the little vagabonds poise above their open mouths a cluster of purple grapes or a slice of rich melon! Their ragged garments scarcely suffice to cover them; their arms and legs are bare; their abundant dark curls have known nocombing, and they are undeniably dirty. And yet they are perfectly charming. The rich tints of their sunburned skin; the dark liquid eyes of the Spanish race; the beautiful curves of their plump necks and shoulders; the free grace of their attitudes,—all combine to make them picturesque and attractive.The dirt is rendered with an unsparing realism which, in a few instances, is carried beyond the limits of good taste. Such is the case with El Piojoso of the Louvre, which represents a little beggar removing vermin from his body, and which Mr. Ruskin has severely denounced. Another picture in Munich, and one at St. Petersburg, belong to the same class; but these may be considered exceptions to the rule. The general statement holds true, that the realmotifof Murillo’s beggar-boy pictures is the simple, natural enjoyment which may render attractive, and even beautiful, the most unlovely surroundings.The artist shows a fine insight into human nature in his appreciation of the companionship between the street boy and the small dog. The famous Beggar-boy of the Hermitage Gallery at St. Petersburg is a capital example. The boy, standing by a wall, with a basket of fruit in his hand, turns to smile at his dog, with a perfect expression of good comradeship. In several other paintings, where the boys are eating, a little dog stands by, watching the tempting morsels enviously, with the hope of getting a share in due time.England is especially rich in examples of Murillo’s street scenes. Besides the well-known picture in the National Gallery, there are three fine works at Dulwich College,[15]and many others scattered through the galleries of private collectors. This fact may be the reason that Murillo was first popularly known in England for thisclass of subjects, rather than for his religious art.One of Murillo’s most ardent admirers among modern English artists is Mrs. Henry M. Stanley, first known in the art world as Dorothy Tennant. She gayly avers that the most interesting object to her, when as a small girl she was taken for her daily walk, was “some dear little child in tatters.” The small young lady’s interest in street children was something more than philanthropic; it was intensely artistic. As soon as she could wield a pencil, she began to make ragamuffin pictures, and to dream of a career as the “champion painter of the poor.” Gifted with a keen sense of humor, she was quick to see the happy side of a life whose exterior is apparently one of misery; and it was this side which she determined to portray. Murillo’s happy beggar boys were her ideal; Hogarth’s work alsocommanded her admiration. Following in the footsteps of these great predecessors, she sought for her models “the merry, reckless, happy-go-lucky urchin; the tomboy girl; and the plump, untidy mother, dancing and tossing her ragged baby.”Such subjects would naturally be more difficult to find in London than in Seville; and one could not walk about the streets of the bleak northern metropolis without seeing many little waifs whose pitiable condition contrasts sadly with the jocund poverty of Murillo’s Andalusian beggars. Thus it is that, in spite of the most cheerful intentions, Mrs. Stanley has often produced pictures full of pathos. The wan little violinist, sitting on the edge of his poor bed, and clasping his sister in his arms, is a sad little figure. Another picture, that brings tears of sympathy to our eyes, is the hungry-looking boy, also a violinist, gazing wistfully into thewindow of a pastry-cook’s, where a placard proclaims that hot dinners are five-pence. Equally pathetic is a scene inside the same shop, where a little waif is held, fainting, in the arms of the proprietor, while other children gather round to see.london street arabs.—dorothy stanley.It is a relief to turn from these to the subjects which are the artist’s most characteristic field, and to enjoy with her the romps and pranks of the street Arabs. A clever picture of this class is the big boy using a smaller one as a wheelbarrow, the small boy’s arms supporting the machine, and his legs furnishing the handles. Of kindred nature is a sort of double pick-a-back, or pyramid, in which three ragged urchins are enjoying themselves hugely in the attempt to carry out so remarkable a feat. In the line of gymnastics, also, is the really admirable painting exhibited at the New Gallery in 1890, which portrays three delicious youngsters turning somersaultsover a rail, while a little girl at each end looks on admiringly. The original of the little chap hanging head downward may have been the “Boy Taylor,” of dragon fame, of whom the artist writes in her“Street Arabs.” Having once figured in a circus as a green demon, or dragon, his experience made him very quick at catching attitudes; and, proud of his powers of endurance, he begged Mrs. Stanley to paint him standing on his head, assuring her that he preferred that position to any other!Larger pictures of merry street life are a company of young people dancing to the music of a hand-organ, a group of children playing blind-man’s buff, and so many others that the description would become tiresome. Many of these were made to illustrate children’s stories in “Little Folks” and the “Quiver,” while others adorn the collections of fortunate possessors. All of them illustrate admirably the artist’s firm conviction that “no ragamuffin is ever common or vulgar.”The sympathetic interest and enthusiasm which Mrs. Stanley has shown for theLondon street Arab finds an interesting parallel in the work of Marie Bashkirtseff. Though Russian by birth, Mademoiselle Bashkirtseff passed the greater part of her short life in France, and, belonging to a wealthy and distinguished family, was educated amidst all the luxuries and gayeties of fashionable Parisian life. But the girl’s indomitable spirit was not to be hindered by the bonds of social restraint, and she devoted herself to art with an almost passionate intensity. Struggling constantly against the inroads of a fatal disease, and cut down on the very threshold of life, she produced but few works to show to the world what heights she was capable of attaining. Of these, the two which rank first, and which are best known to her admirers, are studies of the Parisgamin.Jean and Jacques was exhibited at the Salon of 1883, and not only won the high praise of many eminent artists, but alsoreceived “honorable mention” from the committee. The picture is described in the artist’s journal as “two little boys, who are walking along the pavement, holding each other by the hand; the elder, a boy of seven, holds a leaf between his teeth, and looks straight before him into space; the other, a couple of years younger, has one hand thrust into the pocket of his little trousers, and is regarding the passers-by.”Scarcely had this picture been completed, when another street scene suddenly flashed upon the imagination of the ambitious young painter, and she straightway set to work upon it. The result was The Meeting, exhibited at the Salon of 1884. It represents a group of six boys, standing at a street corner, engaged in plotting some mischief. From the oldest, a school-boy of twelve, to the little fellow in a pinafore, they are intent, eager, alert;absorbed in the scheme which they are discussing. They have sometimes been criticised for being ugly; but as the artist wittily says, “One does not see such miracles of beauty among the little boys who run about the streets,” and the models were chosen for theexpressivenessof their faces.The painting met with instantaneous approval, not only from eminent artists, but from the public, whose judgment on such subjects is even more conclusive. All the leading periodicals obtained permission to engrave it, and it became the talk of the hour. The signature, “M. Bashkirtseff,” left the sex of the artist an open question, and there were those who could not believe that it was the work of a woman, and a young one at that.the meeting.—marie bashkirtseff.Mademoiselle Bashkirtseff found great amusement in visiting the exhibition, watching the people look at her picture,and laughing in her sleeve to imagine their amazement should they know that the elegantly dressed young lady sitting near it was the artist.The sequel is full of pathos. In spite of all the praises heaped upon it, The Meeting did not receive a medal. To the ambitious young girl the disappointment was most humiliating, and with characteristic sincerity she did not try to conceal her indignation and chagrin. Justice came at last, but all too late. When the bright young hopes were stilled in the quiet of death, the picture was honored with a place in the Luxembourg, where it hangs to-day, an admirable representation of that most interesting genus, the Parisgamin.The American street boy is a distinct type: his ambition is to rise in the world. Wealth, fame, and power may be his, if he will but labor to attain them, and to thisend he throws himself ardently into the building of a career. For a certain portion of the day he is a man of affairs. Dashing through the net-work of wheels, in the thickest traffic of crowded thoroughfares, jumping on and off moving cars and carriages, pushing his way with untiring zeal, he shows a reckless daring and a dauntless energy which are unmatched among any other people. His duties done, he is a gentleman of leisure. He may amuse himself now as he pleases, and his recreations show the same versatility displayed in his business enterprises. Possessed of a lively imagination and a keen sense of humor, he is never at a loss for a source of fun. He is as generous as he is mischievous, always willing to share his good things with his companions. Altogether, he is an interesting and attractive figure, and it is no wonder that he has long since made his appearance on the canvas.castles in spain.—john g. brown.Probably the most conspicuous painter of American street subjects is John George Brown, of New York. A resident of this city for more than forty years, Mr. Brown has made it his life-work to study the character and customs of the poorer classes of children. Newsboys and boot-blacks are his special friends, and among them he finds many fine examples of the best characteristics of human nature.The Wounded Playfellow shows how easily the street boy’s sympathies are touched by the suffering of an animal. A little urchin carefully holds a dog in his arms, while another deftly binds a bandage about the poor creature’s broken leg. A third boy and a small girl are the interested spectators. The intense and eager interest with which the entire group regard the operation is admirably portrayed.The natural bent of Young America towards politics and oratory is seen in theStump Speech, an oil painting which was exhibited at the Columbian Exposition.Mr. Brown uses water colors, as well as oils, for a medium of expression, being the president of the Water Color Society, which he helped to found. An example of this kind of work is his picture called “Free from Care.” A bright-faced boot-black stands leaning against a wall, with one thumb thrust in his trousers pocket, and a general air of having thrown aside business responsibility for a good time.Equally “free from care,” and happy in this privilege, is the boy, seated on a box, blowing soap-bubbles. His simple delight in this innocent pastime, and the almost dreamy look with which he watches the fairy bubble, show a hitherto unsuspected vein of poetry in the street-boy nature.The boot-black appears ordinarily in the most prosaic light, as a practical individual, whose chief concern is the struggle fordaily bread. But this is only half the truth. Under his rough exterior he hides a heart keenly responsive to beauty. His youthful imagination is, in Lowell’s happy phrase, a veritable Aladdin’s lamp, with which he transforms the meagreness of his surroundings into the splendid luxuries of a castle in Spain.
Ragged, dirty, and unkempt; untrained in all the pretty graces of refinement; deprived of all the fostering care of the home, how can the children of the street afford the artist any subjects for his canvas? Because, in spite of deprivation and poverty, they possess the imperishable treasure of a happy heart; and happiness is the true secret of the beauty of childhood. The child’s buoyant vitality is proof against any disadvantages in his external surroundings; for his horizon is limited to the present. Yesterday’s hunger is quickly forgotten in to-day’s plenty; the fatigue of themorning’s toil vanishes in the evening’s frolic; even the wounds of a cruel blow are readily healed by a friendly word. Unconscious of any disparity between himself and others, he is equally contented with his lot, whether his clothing be velvet or rags, whether his play-ground be a royal park or the streets of a great city.
The artistic possibilities of street material lay long undiscovered through the first centuries of the Art Renaissance, when the subjects were chiefly religious and mythological. It is then to Murillo and his matchless pictures of the beggar boys of Seville that we may attribute the real origin of this department ofgenrepainting. Murillo had himself known something of poverty and homelessness. Left an orphan at the age of eleven, he was thrown entirely upon his own resources at nineteen, his equipment for life being a few years’ apprenticeship in the studioof his uncle, Juan del Castillo. In the years of hard work that followed, he laid the foundations of a career destined to be one of the most notable in the history of art.
beggar boys.—murillo.
There was held one day every week, in a large public square of Seville, an open-air market called theFeria, at which meat and fish, fruit and vegetables, old clothes and old iron, were heaped upon stalls or piled upon the pavement for the examination of customers. Last but not least of all the commodities here displayed were paintings, offered for sale by the artists themselves, who were supplied with brushes and colors to adapt the details to the purchasers’ taste. It may be imagined that these pictures of theFeriawere not works of high art, nor was there much stimulus to artistic talent in their production. Nevertheless, it was in this business that the young Murillo beganhis career; and it was in this way, doubtless, that he came to observe closely, and to store up in his artist’s memory the picturesque effects among the children who swarmed in the sunny square. Perfect types of glowing health were these nut-brown sons and daughters of Andalusia, enjoying life with the indolence and simple merriment characteristic of a southern race. It was Murillo’s delight to portray them in their happiest moods. Sometimes they are playing games on the pavement, as in the Dice Players; again, they are feasting upon the luscious native fruits, as in the celebrated pictures of the Munich Gallery. With what delicious enjoyment do the little vagabonds poise above their open mouths a cluster of purple grapes or a slice of rich melon! Their ragged garments scarcely suffice to cover them; their arms and legs are bare; their abundant dark curls have known nocombing, and they are undeniably dirty. And yet they are perfectly charming. The rich tints of their sunburned skin; the dark liquid eyes of the Spanish race; the beautiful curves of their plump necks and shoulders; the free grace of their attitudes,—all combine to make them picturesque and attractive.
The dirt is rendered with an unsparing realism which, in a few instances, is carried beyond the limits of good taste. Such is the case with El Piojoso of the Louvre, which represents a little beggar removing vermin from his body, and which Mr. Ruskin has severely denounced. Another picture in Munich, and one at St. Petersburg, belong to the same class; but these may be considered exceptions to the rule. The general statement holds true, that the realmotifof Murillo’s beggar-boy pictures is the simple, natural enjoyment which may render attractive, and even beautiful, the most unlovely surroundings.
The artist shows a fine insight into human nature in his appreciation of the companionship between the street boy and the small dog. The famous Beggar-boy of the Hermitage Gallery at St. Petersburg is a capital example. The boy, standing by a wall, with a basket of fruit in his hand, turns to smile at his dog, with a perfect expression of good comradeship. In several other paintings, where the boys are eating, a little dog stands by, watching the tempting morsels enviously, with the hope of getting a share in due time.
England is especially rich in examples of Murillo’s street scenes. Besides the well-known picture in the National Gallery, there are three fine works at Dulwich College,[15]and many others scattered through the galleries of private collectors. This fact may be the reason that Murillo was first popularly known in England for thisclass of subjects, rather than for his religious art.
One of Murillo’s most ardent admirers among modern English artists is Mrs. Henry M. Stanley, first known in the art world as Dorothy Tennant. She gayly avers that the most interesting object to her, when as a small girl she was taken for her daily walk, was “some dear little child in tatters.” The small young lady’s interest in street children was something more than philanthropic; it was intensely artistic. As soon as she could wield a pencil, she began to make ragamuffin pictures, and to dream of a career as the “champion painter of the poor.” Gifted with a keen sense of humor, she was quick to see the happy side of a life whose exterior is apparently one of misery; and it was this side which she determined to portray. Murillo’s happy beggar boys were her ideal; Hogarth’s work alsocommanded her admiration. Following in the footsteps of these great predecessors, she sought for her models “the merry, reckless, happy-go-lucky urchin; the tomboy girl; and the plump, untidy mother, dancing and tossing her ragged baby.”
Such subjects would naturally be more difficult to find in London than in Seville; and one could not walk about the streets of the bleak northern metropolis without seeing many little waifs whose pitiable condition contrasts sadly with the jocund poverty of Murillo’s Andalusian beggars. Thus it is that, in spite of the most cheerful intentions, Mrs. Stanley has often produced pictures full of pathos. The wan little violinist, sitting on the edge of his poor bed, and clasping his sister in his arms, is a sad little figure. Another picture, that brings tears of sympathy to our eyes, is the hungry-looking boy, also a violinist, gazing wistfully into thewindow of a pastry-cook’s, where a placard proclaims that hot dinners are five-pence. Equally pathetic is a scene inside the same shop, where a little waif is held, fainting, in the arms of the proprietor, while other children gather round to see.
london street arabs.—dorothy stanley.
It is a relief to turn from these to the subjects which are the artist’s most characteristic field, and to enjoy with her the romps and pranks of the street Arabs. A clever picture of this class is the big boy using a smaller one as a wheelbarrow, the small boy’s arms supporting the machine, and his legs furnishing the handles. Of kindred nature is a sort of double pick-a-back, or pyramid, in which three ragged urchins are enjoying themselves hugely in the attempt to carry out so remarkable a feat. In the line of gymnastics, also, is the really admirable painting exhibited at the New Gallery in 1890, which portrays three delicious youngsters turning somersaultsover a rail, while a little girl at each end looks on admiringly. The original of the little chap hanging head downward may have been the “Boy Taylor,” of dragon fame, of whom the artist writes in her“Street Arabs.” Having once figured in a circus as a green demon, or dragon, his experience made him very quick at catching attitudes; and, proud of his powers of endurance, he begged Mrs. Stanley to paint him standing on his head, assuring her that he preferred that position to any other!
Larger pictures of merry street life are a company of young people dancing to the music of a hand-organ, a group of children playing blind-man’s buff, and so many others that the description would become tiresome. Many of these were made to illustrate children’s stories in “Little Folks” and the “Quiver,” while others adorn the collections of fortunate possessors. All of them illustrate admirably the artist’s firm conviction that “no ragamuffin is ever common or vulgar.”
The sympathetic interest and enthusiasm which Mrs. Stanley has shown for theLondon street Arab finds an interesting parallel in the work of Marie Bashkirtseff. Though Russian by birth, Mademoiselle Bashkirtseff passed the greater part of her short life in France, and, belonging to a wealthy and distinguished family, was educated amidst all the luxuries and gayeties of fashionable Parisian life. But the girl’s indomitable spirit was not to be hindered by the bonds of social restraint, and she devoted herself to art with an almost passionate intensity. Struggling constantly against the inroads of a fatal disease, and cut down on the very threshold of life, she produced but few works to show to the world what heights she was capable of attaining. Of these, the two which rank first, and which are best known to her admirers, are studies of the Parisgamin.
Jean and Jacques was exhibited at the Salon of 1883, and not only won the high praise of many eminent artists, but alsoreceived “honorable mention” from the committee. The picture is described in the artist’s journal as “two little boys, who are walking along the pavement, holding each other by the hand; the elder, a boy of seven, holds a leaf between his teeth, and looks straight before him into space; the other, a couple of years younger, has one hand thrust into the pocket of his little trousers, and is regarding the passers-by.”
Scarcely had this picture been completed, when another street scene suddenly flashed upon the imagination of the ambitious young painter, and she straightway set to work upon it. The result was The Meeting, exhibited at the Salon of 1884. It represents a group of six boys, standing at a street corner, engaged in plotting some mischief. From the oldest, a school-boy of twelve, to the little fellow in a pinafore, they are intent, eager, alert;absorbed in the scheme which they are discussing. They have sometimes been criticised for being ugly; but as the artist wittily says, “One does not see such miracles of beauty among the little boys who run about the streets,” and the models were chosen for theexpressivenessof their faces.
The painting met with instantaneous approval, not only from eminent artists, but from the public, whose judgment on such subjects is even more conclusive. All the leading periodicals obtained permission to engrave it, and it became the talk of the hour. The signature, “M. Bashkirtseff,” left the sex of the artist an open question, and there were those who could not believe that it was the work of a woman, and a young one at that.
the meeting.—marie bashkirtseff.
Mademoiselle Bashkirtseff found great amusement in visiting the exhibition, watching the people look at her picture,and laughing in her sleeve to imagine their amazement should they know that the elegantly dressed young lady sitting near it was the artist.
The sequel is full of pathos. In spite of all the praises heaped upon it, The Meeting did not receive a medal. To the ambitious young girl the disappointment was most humiliating, and with characteristic sincerity she did not try to conceal her indignation and chagrin. Justice came at last, but all too late. When the bright young hopes were stilled in the quiet of death, the picture was honored with a place in the Luxembourg, where it hangs to-day, an admirable representation of that most interesting genus, the Parisgamin.
The American street boy is a distinct type: his ambition is to rise in the world. Wealth, fame, and power may be his, if he will but labor to attain them, and to thisend he throws himself ardently into the building of a career. For a certain portion of the day he is a man of affairs. Dashing through the net-work of wheels, in the thickest traffic of crowded thoroughfares, jumping on and off moving cars and carriages, pushing his way with untiring zeal, he shows a reckless daring and a dauntless energy which are unmatched among any other people. His duties done, he is a gentleman of leisure. He may amuse himself now as he pleases, and his recreations show the same versatility displayed in his business enterprises. Possessed of a lively imagination and a keen sense of humor, he is never at a loss for a source of fun. He is as generous as he is mischievous, always willing to share his good things with his companions. Altogether, he is an interesting and attractive figure, and it is no wonder that he has long since made his appearance on the canvas.
castles in spain.—john g. brown.
Probably the most conspicuous painter of American street subjects is John George Brown, of New York. A resident of this city for more than forty years, Mr. Brown has made it his life-work to study the character and customs of the poorer classes of children. Newsboys and boot-blacks are his special friends, and among them he finds many fine examples of the best characteristics of human nature.
The Wounded Playfellow shows how easily the street boy’s sympathies are touched by the suffering of an animal. A little urchin carefully holds a dog in his arms, while another deftly binds a bandage about the poor creature’s broken leg. A third boy and a small girl are the interested spectators. The intense and eager interest with which the entire group regard the operation is admirably portrayed.
The natural bent of Young America towards politics and oratory is seen in theStump Speech, an oil painting which was exhibited at the Columbian Exposition.
Mr. Brown uses water colors, as well as oils, for a medium of expression, being the president of the Water Color Society, which he helped to found. An example of this kind of work is his picture called “Free from Care.” A bright-faced boot-black stands leaning against a wall, with one thumb thrust in his trousers pocket, and a general air of having thrown aside business responsibility for a good time.
Equally “free from care,” and happy in this privilege, is the boy, seated on a box, blowing soap-bubbles. His simple delight in this innocent pastime, and the almost dreamy look with which he watches the fairy bubble, show a hitherto unsuspected vein of poetry in the street-boy nature.
The boot-black appears ordinarily in the most prosaic light, as a practical individual, whose chief concern is the struggle fordaily bread. But this is only half the truth. Under his rough exterior he hides a heart keenly responsive to beauty. His youthful imagination is, in Lowell’s happy phrase, a veritable Aladdin’s lamp, with which he transforms the meagreness of his surroundings into the splendid luxuries of a castle in Spain.
He shall give his angels charge over thee,To keep thee in all thy ways.They shall bear thee up in their hands,Lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.Psalm xci.
He shall give his angels charge over thee,To keep thee in all thy ways.They shall bear thee up in their hands,Lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.Psalm xci.
CHILD-ANGELS.
To represent the perfect innocence and purity of an angel, a being whose native atmosphere is the very presence of God, a creature not subject to the limitations of physical laws, ever speeding on divine errands from heaven to earth and back again to heaven, nothing could be more natural than that art should use the face and form of innocent human childhood.Child-angels were first seen in art during the Italian Renaissance, and formed a conspicuous feature in the religious paintings of the period. One of the most interesting and beautiful forms inwhich they appear is as a great host, or “glory,” filling the background of a composition.From the announcement of the Saviour’s birth to the Galilean shepherds, to the vision of Saint John on the Isle of Patmos, we find various allusions in the New Testament to the presence of angel companies in the affairs of human life. It was therefore entirely legitimate and appropriate to introduce a visible embodiment of the heavenly hosts into the many sacred scenes portrayed in art, whether these were representations of the actual incidents of Bible history, or the imaginative embodiments of religious ideals.The Sistine Madonna suggests itself at once as a most beautiful illustration. The entire canvas is studded with tiny child faces, delicately outlined,—a veritable cloud of witnesses, dissolving into the golden glory with which they aresurrounded. What a contrast is the exquisite spirituality of this conception to Perugino’s angel glories, where baby faces, each with six many-hued wings are ranged at regular intervals throughout the composition!A less notable example of Raphael’s unique treatment of the angel host is in his Vision of Ezekiel, a small painting of earlier date than the Sistine Madonna. Here the idea is manifestly drawn from the prophet’s description of his vision of the four living creatures in a great amber wheel, which was “full of eyes.”Turning from Raphael’s clouds of dimly suggested cherub faces to those representations of the angel throngs in which the child forms are more distinctly delineated, we find that the great masters have made use of the myriad figures to express a corresponding variety in mood and character. Thus, when the emotions of theprincipal personage in a composition are too complex to be adequately expressed on a single countenance, the angel faces surrounding may each, in turn, convey some one of the many aspects of thought or feeling which go to make up the entire conception.The Crucifixion[16]is a striking instance of the mingling, of contrasted emotions,—bodily suffering and spiritual victory, worldly defeat and heavenly triumph,—all of which cannot be depicted on the face of the Christ, but which a throng of attendant cherubs may fully interpret. The same principle is illustrated in the many scenes of which the Madonna is the central figure, as the Immaculate Conception, the Assumption, and the Coronation.fragment from the assumption.—titian.Of such paintings, Titian’s Assumption is the most splendid example. The ascending, Virgin is surrounded by a wreathof child-angels, of surpassing grace and beauty. It is of these that Mrs. Jameson has written, in her incomparable way, that they are “mind and music and love, kneaded, as it were, into form and color.” From a compositional point of view they serve an important purpose in directing the attention of the spectator to the principal figure of the picture. All the gracefully intertwined limbs of the angelic host—outstretched arms and floating figures,—form the radii of a great semicircle centering in the beautiful Madonna.If Titian’s child-angels stand for the highest attainment in the idealization of child beauty, those of Rubens, on the other hand, are the most human and lovable ever conceived in art. Their lovely baby forms cluster in countless numbers about the glorified Virgin, joyously bearing palm and wreath in token of her triumph.The name of Murillo also occupies the first rank in the delineation of companies of child-angels. Called in turn the Titian and the Rubens of Spain, he is like his Venetian and Flemish prototypes in his intense sympathy for childhood. His angels have not that transcendent superiority to mortals which distinguishes Titian’s, nor are they the dimpled bits of pink-and-white babyhood characteristic of Rubens. They belong somewhere between the two extremes, and are remarkable for their innocence and purity of expression. As the Immaculate Conception was Murillo’s favorite subject, it is here that we see his child-angels at their best. He has also introduced them into the Holy Family of Seville, as well as into that most wonderful painting of the Christ-child Appearing to Saint Anthony of Padua.A beautiful method of introducingchild-angels into religious pictures, differing widely from the treatment of angel hosts, is to represent one[17]or two, sometimes three, in attendance upon the Madonna and Babe, or the Christ. This is especially appropriate where the subject is treated devotionally, and the central figure is elevated on a throne or pedestal, with the angels at the foot.Among the Florentine artists, the two friends Raphael and Bartolommeo, as well as their contemporary, Andrea del Sarto, furnish many examples of these angel attendants. With Andrea del Sarto, as was characteristic, they are bewitching winged boys; while with Bartolommeo and Raphael they partake of a more delicate spirituality, which marks them as truly celestial.The Madonna of the Harpies, which is considered the masterpiece of Andrea del Sarto, contains two charming cherubs,which may be taken as excellent types of the artist’s rendering of these subjects. The Two Angels, from his great painting of the Four Saints, are somewhat above his average plane. These lovely and graceful figures originally stood in the centre of a large composition, but were at a later date removed from the canvas to make a separate picture. Their real significance is to show forth the beauty of a saintly life. Each carries a scroll, and one points upward.In the work of Bartolommeo the finest cherubs are those of his Throne Madonna, the Madonna Enthroned, and the Risen Christ. All three show the same masterly hand, and express a similar conception of the office filled by the angels. In every case one is looking up with a rapt expression of joy, while the other is more contemplative, drooping the head as if in reflection. The contrast suggests thedistinction of early theology between the seraphim and cherubim, the former being, according to etymological significance, the spirits who love and adore, and the latter, those who know and worship. This distinction was scrupulously adhered to in early art by representing the seraphim as red, and the cherubim as blue. Although later artists no longer observed any discrimination between two classes of celestial beings, it may be that the difference between Bartolommeo’s two angels is due to the influence of this idea. Be this as it may, the fact remains that the opposition between them in face and attitude is exactly appropriate to symbolize one as love and the other as reflection.This is very marked in Raphael’s work, as may be seen in his Madonna del Baldacchino, a painting whose style of composition is strikingly like that of Bartolommeo.Of the two singing angels at the foot of the Madonna’s throne, one studies eagerly the meaning of his music, while the other sings with the happy unconsciousness of a bird. Comparing with this Raphael’s grandest achievement, the Sistine Madonna, we find the samemotifcarried to its highest realization. The two beautiful cherubs who lean upon the parapet at the bottom of the picture are perfect impersonations of the serene content and the thoughtful deliberation with which varying types of Christian believers have received the great fact of the Incarnation.The Venetian painters delighted to put musical instruments into the hands of their child-angels, representing them as choristers, hymning the praises of the infant Saviour. Of these, many notable examples were produced in thebottegheof the two rival artist families, the Bellini and the Vivarini. Jacopo Bellini and his twosons, Gentile and Giovanni, were the real founders of the Venetian school, and the work of Giovanni became an ideal standard, which his contemporaries essayed to follow. Luigi Vivarini was so successful as his imitator that his paintings are often incorrectly assigned to the greater artist.piping angel.—bellini.The Frari Madonna, however, is an undoubted Bellini, and here the Venetian conception of the child-angel is seen in its loveliest aspects. Two eager little choristers stand on the lower steps of the Madonna’s throne, “exquisite courtiers of the Infant King,” as Mrs. Oliphant gracefully calls them. One, myrtle-crowned, is blowing on a pipe, while the other bends gravely over a large lute.The Madonna of the Church of the Redentore[18]shows another pair of angel musicians, sitting on a low wall in the foreground, one at the head and the other at the feet of the sleeping Babe. Both areplaying on lutes, and the serious, absorbed air with which they fulfil their task is delightful to see. With lifted face and faraway eyes, they seem to be listening to a heavenly chorus, of which their own melody is an echo.Any mention of the Venetian type of angels would be incomplete without adding the names of Palma Vecchio and Carpaccio to the list of those who most delicately interpreted the subject. Examples of their work are scattered over Northern Italy, but none perhaps are more representative than Carpaccio’s Presentation, in the Academy at Venice, and Palma’s altar-piece at Zerman.angel from painting in church of redentore.—vivarini.The child-angel as a playmate and companion of the Christ-child is a conception which has not infrequently been represented in art with great appropriateness. Both Van Dyck and Lucas Cranach have given us the Repose in Egypt, enlivenedby the presence of a company of frolicsome cherubs sporting about the Divine Babe. Rubens painted a lovely group of the Infant Jesus and Saint John, seated on the ground, playing with their celestial little visitors. A Holy Family, by Ippolito Andreasi, represents angel children gathering and bringing grapes to the Saviour.With a small circle of Florentine artists, led by Botticelli, and including Filippo Lippi and Filippino Lippi, a unique class of child-angels is in great favor. These are children of a larger growth and maturer appearance than the infantine cherubs of contemporary artists, and might properly be called angel-youths. In the best examples their expression is an admirable mingling of strength and purity. As attendants to the Christ-child, they serve in various capacities with loving and reverent grace.In Botticelli’s famous “round Madonna”of the Uffizi, one holds the ink vessel into which the Virgin dips her pen as she writes the Magnificat, two others hold a starry crown over her head, and two more complete the group, as companions of the Saviour. In the Holy Family, by the same artist, only two angels are introduced, one of whom leans over a balustrade, with a beautiful lily-stalk in his hand, in token of the Virgin’s purity.Filippo Lippi’s charming rendering of angel-youths is best seen in the picture which represents the Christ-child borne by two attendant cherubs in exemplification of the psalmist’s words, “They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.” The Madonna stands before the Divine Babe, with hands clasped in adoration, a lovely impersonation of the Madre Pia.angel from vision of madonna appearing to saint bernard.—filippino lippi.The Madre Pia is also the subject of one of Filippino Lippi’s most exquisiteangel pictures. The Infant Saviour lies on the ground, in a garden, while his mother kneels to adore him. Angel-youths surround him, kneeling, and one stands showering rose-petals down upon him.The masterpiece of Filippino Lippi is the Vision of Saint Bernard, in the Badia at Florence, and here again angel-youths are introduced with charming effect. Two are in the rear, with hands clasped in adoration; two are beside the Virgin, bearing the weight of her mantle, and raising their earnest young faces with sweet reverence. One of these faces is presented in profile, and has a delicately cut, pure outline, of rare gentleness and beauty.The artist’s ideal is wonderfully helpful to the imagination, and the thought is full of comfort, that it is loving and tender presences like these which are “in charge over us, to keep us in all our ways.”
To represent the perfect innocence and purity of an angel, a being whose native atmosphere is the very presence of God, a creature not subject to the limitations of physical laws, ever speeding on divine errands from heaven to earth and back again to heaven, nothing could be more natural than that art should use the face and form of innocent human childhood.
Child-angels were first seen in art during the Italian Renaissance, and formed a conspicuous feature in the religious paintings of the period. One of the most interesting and beautiful forms inwhich they appear is as a great host, or “glory,” filling the background of a composition.
From the announcement of the Saviour’s birth to the Galilean shepherds, to the vision of Saint John on the Isle of Patmos, we find various allusions in the New Testament to the presence of angel companies in the affairs of human life. It was therefore entirely legitimate and appropriate to introduce a visible embodiment of the heavenly hosts into the many sacred scenes portrayed in art, whether these were representations of the actual incidents of Bible history, or the imaginative embodiments of religious ideals.
The Sistine Madonna suggests itself at once as a most beautiful illustration. The entire canvas is studded with tiny child faces, delicately outlined,—a veritable cloud of witnesses, dissolving into the golden glory with which they aresurrounded. What a contrast is the exquisite spirituality of this conception to Perugino’s angel glories, where baby faces, each with six many-hued wings are ranged at regular intervals throughout the composition!
A less notable example of Raphael’s unique treatment of the angel host is in his Vision of Ezekiel, a small painting of earlier date than the Sistine Madonna. Here the idea is manifestly drawn from the prophet’s description of his vision of the four living creatures in a great amber wheel, which was “full of eyes.”
Turning from Raphael’s clouds of dimly suggested cherub faces to those representations of the angel throngs in which the child forms are more distinctly delineated, we find that the great masters have made use of the myriad figures to express a corresponding variety in mood and character. Thus, when the emotions of theprincipal personage in a composition are too complex to be adequately expressed on a single countenance, the angel faces surrounding may each, in turn, convey some one of the many aspects of thought or feeling which go to make up the entire conception.
The Crucifixion[16]is a striking instance of the mingling, of contrasted emotions,—bodily suffering and spiritual victory, worldly defeat and heavenly triumph,—all of which cannot be depicted on the face of the Christ, but which a throng of attendant cherubs may fully interpret. The same principle is illustrated in the many scenes of which the Madonna is the central figure, as the Immaculate Conception, the Assumption, and the Coronation.
fragment from the assumption.—titian.
Of such paintings, Titian’s Assumption is the most splendid example. The ascending, Virgin is surrounded by a wreathof child-angels, of surpassing grace and beauty. It is of these that Mrs. Jameson has written, in her incomparable way, that they are “mind and music and love, kneaded, as it were, into form and color.” From a compositional point of view they serve an important purpose in directing the attention of the spectator to the principal figure of the picture. All the gracefully intertwined limbs of the angelic host—outstretched arms and floating figures,—form the radii of a great semicircle centering in the beautiful Madonna.
If Titian’s child-angels stand for the highest attainment in the idealization of child beauty, those of Rubens, on the other hand, are the most human and lovable ever conceived in art. Their lovely baby forms cluster in countless numbers about the glorified Virgin, joyously bearing palm and wreath in token of her triumph.
The name of Murillo also occupies the first rank in the delineation of companies of child-angels. Called in turn the Titian and the Rubens of Spain, he is like his Venetian and Flemish prototypes in his intense sympathy for childhood. His angels have not that transcendent superiority to mortals which distinguishes Titian’s, nor are they the dimpled bits of pink-and-white babyhood characteristic of Rubens. They belong somewhere between the two extremes, and are remarkable for their innocence and purity of expression. As the Immaculate Conception was Murillo’s favorite subject, it is here that we see his child-angels at their best. He has also introduced them into the Holy Family of Seville, as well as into that most wonderful painting of the Christ-child Appearing to Saint Anthony of Padua.
A beautiful method of introducingchild-angels into religious pictures, differing widely from the treatment of angel hosts, is to represent one[17]or two, sometimes three, in attendance upon the Madonna and Babe, or the Christ. This is especially appropriate where the subject is treated devotionally, and the central figure is elevated on a throne or pedestal, with the angels at the foot.
Among the Florentine artists, the two friends Raphael and Bartolommeo, as well as their contemporary, Andrea del Sarto, furnish many examples of these angel attendants. With Andrea del Sarto, as was characteristic, they are bewitching winged boys; while with Bartolommeo and Raphael they partake of a more delicate spirituality, which marks them as truly celestial.
The Madonna of the Harpies, which is considered the masterpiece of Andrea del Sarto, contains two charming cherubs,which may be taken as excellent types of the artist’s rendering of these subjects. The Two Angels, from his great painting of the Four Saints, are somewhat above his average plane. These lovely and graceful figures originally stood in the centre of a large composition, but were at a later date removed from the canvas to make a separate picture. Their real significance is to show forth the beauty of a saintly life. Each carries a scroll, and one points upward.
In the work of Bartolommeo the finest cherubs are those of his Throne Madonna, the Madonna Enthroned, and the Risen Christ. All three show the same masterly hand, and express a similar conception of the office filled by the angels. In every case one is looking up with a rapt expression of joy, while the other is more contemplative, drooping the head as if in reflection. The contrast suggests thedistinction of early theology between the seraphim and cherubim, the former being, according to etymological significance, the spirits who love and adore, and the latter, those who know and worship. This distinction was scrupulously adhered to in early art by representing the seraphim as red, and the cherubim as blue. Although later artists no longer observed any discrimination between two classes of celestial beings, it may be that the difference between Bartolommeo’s two angels is due to the influence of this idea. Be this as it may, the fact remains that the opposition between them in face and attitude is exactly appropriate to symbolize one as love and the other as reflection.
This is very marked in Raphael’s work, as may be seen in his Madonna del Baldacchino, a painting whose style of composition is strikingly like that of Bartolommeo.Of the two singing angels at the foot of the Madonna’s throne, one studies eagerly the meaning of his music, while the other sings with the happy unconsciousness of a bird. Comparing with this Raphael’s grandest achievement, the Sistine Madonna, we find the samemotifcarried to its highest realization. The two beautiful cherubs who lean upon the parapet at the bottom of the picture are perfect impersonations of the serene content and the thoughtful deliberation with which varying types of Christian believers have received the great fact of the Incarnation.
The Venetian painters delighted to put musical instruments into the hands of their child-angels, representing them as choristers, hymning the praises of the infant Saviour. Of these, many notable examples were produced in thebottegheof the two rival artist families, the Bellini and the Vivarini. Jacopo Bellini and his twosons, Gentile and Giovanni, were the real founders of the Venetian school, and the work of Giovanni became an ideal standard, which his contemporaries essayed to follow. Luigi Vivarini was so successful as his imitator that his paintings are often incorrectly assigned to the greater artist.
piping angel.—bellini.
The Frari Madonna, however, is an undoubted Bellini, and here the Venetian conception of the child-angel is seen in its loveliest aspects. Two eager little choristers stand on the lower steps of the Madonna’s throne, “exquisite courtiers of the Infant King,” as Mrs. Oliphant gracefully calls them. One, myrtle-crowned, is blowing on a pipe, while the other bends gravely over a large lute.
The Madonna of the Church of the Redentore[18]shows another pair of angel musicians, sitting on a low wall in the foreground, one at the head and the other at the feet of the sleeping Babe. Both areplaying on lutes, and the serious, absorbed air with which they fulfil their task is delightful to see. With lifted face and faraway eyes, they seem to be listening to a heavenly chorus, of which their own melody is an echo.
Any mention of the Venetian type of angels would be incomplete without adding the names of Palma Vecchio and Carpaccio to the list of those who most delicately interpreted the subject. Examples of their work are scattered over Northern Italy, but none perhaps are more representative than Carpaccio’s Presentation, in the Academy at Venice, and Palma’s altar-piece at Zerman.
angel from painting in church of redentore.—vivarini.
The child-angel as a playmate and companion of the Christ-child is a conception which has not infrequently been represented in art with great appropriateness. Both Van Dyck and Lucas Cranach have given us the Repose in Egypt, enlivenedby the presence of a company of frolicsome cherubs sporting about the Divine Babe. Rubens painted a lovely group of the Infant Jesus and Saint John, seated on the ground, playing with their celestial little visitors. A Holy Family, by Ippolito Andreasi, represents angel children gathering and bringing grapes to the Saviour.
With a small circle of Florentine artists, led by Botticelli, and including Filippo Lippi and Filippino Lippi, a unique class of child-angels is in great favor. These are children of a larger growth and maturer appearance than the infantine cherubs of contemporary artists, and might properly be called angel-youths. In the best examples their expression is an admirable mingling of strength and purity. As attendants to the Christ-child, they serve in various capacities with loving and reverent grace.
In Botticelli’s famous “round Madonna”of the Uffizi, one holds the ink vessel into which the Virgin dips her pen as she writes the Magnificat, two others hold a starry crown over her head, and two more complete the group, as companions of the Saviour. In the Holy Family, by the same artist, only two angels are introduced, one of whom leans over a balustrade, with a beautiful lily-stalk in his hand, in token of the Virgin’s purity.
Filippo Lippi’s charming rendering of angel-youths is best seen in the picture which represents the Christ-child borne by two attendant cherubs in exemplification of the psalmist’s words, “They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.” The Madonna stands before the Divine Babe, with hands clasped in adoration, a lovely impersonation of the Madre Pia.
angel from vision of madonna appearing to saint bernard.—filippino lippi.
The Madre Pia is also the subject of one of Filippino Lippi’s most exquisiteangel pictures. The Infant Saviour lies on the ground, in a garden, while his mother kneels to adore him. Angel-youths surround him, kneeling, and one stands showering rose-petals down upon him.
The masterpiece of Filippino Lippi is the Vision of Saint Bernard, in the Badia at Florence, and here again angel-youths are introduced with charming effect. Two are in the rear, with hands clasped in adoration; two are beside the Virgin, bearing the weight of her mantle, and raising their earnest young faces with sweet reverence. One of these faces is presented in profile, and has a delicately cut, pure outline, of rare gentleness and beauty.
The artist’s ideal is wonderfully helpful to the imagination, and the thought is full of comfort, that it is loving and tender presences like these which are “in charge over us, to keep us in all our ways.”