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Modern Paintings 



W alter Bow ne 

William H. Shaw 
William T. Evans 

and the late 

Bernhard Stern 





Private (Collection 



Sale Wednesday Eoening, March 5th 











Flushing, Long Island 


On Wednesday Evening, March ^th 


"No. 6 East 2 )d Street, Madison Square 





1. The highest bidder to be the Buyer, and if any dispute arise 
between two or more Bidders, the Lot so in dispute shall be im- 
mediately put up again and re-sold. 

2. The Purchasers to give their names and addresses, and to pay 
down a cash deposit, or the whole of the Purchase-money, if required, 
in default of which the Lot or Lots so purchased to be immediately 
put up again and re-sold. 

3. The Lots to be taken away at the Buyer’s expense and Risk 
on the morning following each session of the Sale, between 9 and 12 
o’clock, and the remainder of the Purchase-money to be absolutely 
paid, or otherwise settled for to the satisfaction of the Auctioneer, 
on or before delivery ; in default of which the undersigned will not 
hold himself responsible if the Lots be lost, stolen, damaged, or 
destroyed, but they will be left at the sole risk of the Purchaser. 

4. The sale of any painting is not to be set aside on account of 
any error in the description. All are exposed for Public Exhibition 
one or more days, and are sold just as they are without recourse. 

5. To prevent inaccuracy in delivery and inconvenience in the set- 
tlement of the purchases, no Lot can, on any account, be removed 
during the Sale. 

6. Upon failure to comply with the above conditions, the money 
deposited in part payment shall be forfeited ; all Lots uncleared within 
the time aforesaid shall be re-sold by public or private Sale, without 
further notice, and the deficiency (if any) attending such re-sale, shall 
be made good by the defaulter at this Sale, together with all charges 
attending the same. This Condition is without prejudice to the right 
of the Auctioneer to enforce the contract made at this Sale, without 
such re-sale, if he thinks fit. 

THOMAS E. KIRBY, Auctioneer. 



BEAUQUESNE (Wilfrid Constant) Paris 

Born at Rennes. Pupil of Lecompte and Vernet. Medals, 

1875, 1880. Legion of Honor, 1878. 

No. 43 — The Last Defence Page 58 

BOGERT (George H.). 

No. 7 — The Seme at Ivry Page 21 

BLACKMAN (Walter) London 

Born at Chicago. Pupil of Gerome. 

No. 17 — An American Girl Page 31 

BONHEUR (Marie Rosa) Paris 

Born at Bordeaux, March 22, 1822. Pupil of her father, Ray- 
mond Bonheur. Began by copying in the Louvre ; afterward 
made studies and sketches near Paris. Her first two pictures, 
exhibited at Bordeaux, 1841, attracted much attention, and were 
followed by others which established her world-wide fame. 
During the Franco-Prussian war, her studio and residence were 
respected by special order of the Crown Prince of Prussia. 
Since 1849 she has been Director of the Paris Free School of 
Design for Young Girls, which she founded. Elected member 
of Antwerp Institute in 1868. Medals, 1845, 1848, 1865, 1867 
( Exposition Universelle). Cross of the Legion of Honor, 1865. 
Cross of the Order of Leopold, 1880. Commander’s Cross of 
the Royal Order of Isabella the Catholic, 18S0. Conceded to be 



the greatest female painter the world has produced. Her cele- 
brated “ Horse Fair,” in the Stewart collection, was sold for 
$53,000, and now hangs in the Metropolitan Museum. 

No. 27 — Monarch of the Herd. Page 41 

BRILLOUIN (Louis Georges) 

Born at Saint-Jean-d’Angely. Pupil of Drolling and of Cabat. 
Medals, 1865, 1869, and 1874. 

No. 1 — Metnories Page 15 

No. 13 — The Book-Worm 27 


Bom at Tortosa, Spain, August 9, 1847. Pupil of Lorenzale 
and of Madrazo. 

No. 32 — The Morning Cup Page 47 

CAZIN (Jean Charles) p ar ; s 

Bom at Samer (Pas-de-Calais), France. Pupil of Lecoq de 
Boisbaudran. Medal, first class, 1880. Legion of Honor, 


No. 52 — The Hour of Rest and Peace Page 68 

COL (David) Antwerp 

Born at Antwerp, 1822. Pupil of De Keyser and Antwerp 
Academy. Medal, Vienna Exposition, 1873. Chevalier of the 
Order of Leopold, 1875. 

No. 30 — Suspicion 

Page 45 



COROT (Jean-Baptiste-Camille), dec’d. 

Born in Paris, 1796. Was first instructed by Michallon, after- ' 
ward by Victor Bertin, then spent several years in Italy. 
Medals, Paris, 1S38, 1848, 1855, 1867 ( Exposition Universelle). 
Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 1846. Officer of the same, 
1867. Died, 1875. Diploma to the Memory of Deceased Art- 
ists ( Exposition Universelle), 1878. 

No. 3 — A Medi/zval Ruin Page 17 

No. 19 — The Bridge 23 

No. 28 — The Hillside Path 42 

No. 53 — The Road to the Sea 69 

DAUBIGNY (Charles Francois), dec’d. 

Born in Paris, 1817. Pupil of his father and Paul Delaroche, 
and for three years studied in Italy. Medals, 1848, 1853, 1855, 
1857, 1859, 1867. Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 1859. 
Officer of the same, 1874. Died, 1878. Diploma to the Mem- 
ory of Deceased Artists ( Exposition Universelle), 1878. 

No. 55 — The Time of Apple Blossoms Page 72 

DECAMPS (Alexandre Gabriel), dec’d. 

Born in Paris, 1803. Died, i860. Pupil of Abel de Pujol, 
David, and Ingres. Travelled in the East in 1827, after which 
he devoted himself to painting Oriental subjects. Medals, 1831, 
1834. Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 1839. Officer of the 
same, 1851. 

No. 23 — The Alchetnist. Page 37 

No. 45 — The Tempest 60 



DE NEUVILLE (Alphonse Marie), dec’d 

Born at Saint Omer, France, 1836. A member of a wealthy 
family, his parents intended him for an official career, but he 
was only willing to join the army and entered the school at 
Lorient. Here his astonishing skill in drawing was remarked. 
In order to make peace with his family he went to Paris and 
entered the law school, but he spent more time at the military 
school and in the Champs-de-Mars, sketching and becoming 
familiar with all the details of a soldier’s life. He returned 
home declaring he would be a painter or nothing. His friends 
endeavored to discourage his determination, and the artists upon 
whom he called in Paris advised him to go back home. Dela- 
croix. however, became his friend, and with him De Neuville 
spent many hours. He studied also with Picot. De Neuville’s 
first pictures were not particularly remarkable, but the Franco- 
Prussian war gave him inspiration and subjects almost without 
limit, and since that time the artist has produced some of the 
greatest battle-pictures of any time. Medals, Paris, 1859, 1861. 
Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 1873. Officer of the same, 
1881. Died, 1885, 

No. 50 — The Vanguard .Page 66 

DIAZ DE LA PENA (Narcisse Virgile), dec’d. 

Born in Bordeaux, 1809, of parents who had been banished from 
Spain on account of political troubles. At ten years of age Diaz 
was left an orphan, and at fifteen he was apprenticed to a maker 
of porcelain, where his talent first displayed itself. He quar- 
relled with and left his master, and subsequently spent several 
years in most bitter poverty. After his ability as a most won- 
derful colorist had been recognized, Diaz painted and sold many 
pictures, endeavoring, by the accumulation of a fortune, to 
avenge the poverty of his youth. He died in 1876. Medals 
in 1844, 1846, 1848. Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 



1851. Diploma to the memory of Deceased Artists ( Exposition 
Universelle ), 1878. 

No. ii — The Forest Depth Page 25 

No. 34 — The Forest Pool. 49 

No. 51 — Early Autumn, Forest of Fontainebleau 67 

DUPRlf (Jules), dec’d. 

Born at Nantes, 1812. When a boy he studied design in the 
porcelain manufactory of his father, but soon turned his attention 
to landscape painting, and made his ddbut at the Salon, 1831. 
Medal, 1833. Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 1849. Medal 
(. Exposition Universelle), 1867. Officer of the Legion of Honor, 
1870. Died, 1889. 

No. 4 — The Willow Brook. 

No. 20 — A Barbizon Prairie 
No. 29 — The Clouded Sky... 

No. 33 — The Little Farm. . . 

No. 37 — Batiks of the Seine. . 

Page 18 



5 ° 


FORTUNY-Y-CARBO (Mariano), dec’d. 

Born at Reus, in Catalonia, 1838. Died in Rome, 1874. Pupil 
of Palau, of Lorenzalez, and of the Barcelona Academy, where 
he won the Prix de Rome in 1856. At Rome, which thence- 
forth became his residence, he studied Raphael and made 
sketches of Roman life. In 1859 he was sent to Morocco by 
the Government to paint the incidents of General Prim’s cam- 
paign. In 1866 he went to Paris, and then to Madrid, where 
he remained three years studying the works of Velasquez, 
Ribera, and Goya. His original style, correct drawing, and 



fine color gained for him a great reputation, and the sale of the 
contents of his studio after his death brought 800,000 francs. 

No. 24 — A Belle of the Campagna. 
No. 33 — The Serenade 

Page 38 
.... 48 

FRfeRE (Pierre Edouard), dec’d. 

Born at Paris, 1819. Pupil of Paul Delaroche. Medals at 
Paris, 1850, 1852, 1855. Chevalier of the Legion of Honor 
1855. Died, 1886. 

No. 31 — Share and Share Alike. 

Page 46 

HAGBORG (August) 

Born at Gothenburg, Sweden. Pupil of Stockholm Academy, 
and in Paris of Palmaroli. Medal, 1879. 

No. 57 — The Mussel Gatherer 

Page 74 

HOBBEMA (Meyndert), dec’d. 

Born at Koeverden or at Amsterdam, 1638. Died at Amster- 
dam, 1709. Landscape painter. Educated himself under the 
influence of Jacob van Ruysdael. Much neglected in his time, 
and little esteemed, he now takes rank as one of the greatest 
masters of landscape art. He excels in atmospheric effects, in 
tone, and in brilliancy of color. 

No. 59 — A Dutch Landscape . 

Page 76 



JACQUE (Charles Emile) Paris 

Born at Paris, 1813. Early in life studied with a geographical 
engraver. Later, spent seven years in the army, and worked 
two years in England as an engraver on wood. Xs famous for 
his etchings as well as his paintings. Medals, Paris, 1861, 1863, 
1864, 1867. Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 1867. 

No. 14 — Porte de Bcrgerie Page 28 

No. 44 — The Two Shepherds 59 

JOHNSON (David), N.A New York- 

Born in New York, 1827. Elected member of the National 
Academy, New York, 1862. Medal, Philadelphia, 1876. One 
of the founders of the Artists’ Fund Society. 

No. 10 — The River Road Page 24 

KOWALSKI (Von Wierusz Alfred) Paris 

Born in Warsaw, Poland. Pupil of Brandt. Medal, 1878, 1883. 

No. 9— Belated. Page 23 

LAMBINET (Emile), dec’d. 

Bom at Versailles, 1810. Pupil of Drolling. Medals, Paris, 
1843, 1853, 1857. Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 1867. 
Died, 1878. 

No. 54 — A Nook of the Seine. 

. Page 7 1 



MliDARD (Eugeni) 

Born at Paris. Pupil of Cogniet and of Gerome. Medals, 
1879, 1886. 

No. 42 — A Change of Base Page 57 

MEISSONIER (Jean Louis Ernest) Paris 

Born at Lyons, 1813. He went to Paris when quite young, and 
was for a time a pupil of Leon Cogniet. First exhibited at the 
Salon in 1836. His picture, “ The Brawl ” (1855), was purchased 
by Napoleon III. and presented to the late Prince Albert of 
England. Medals, Paris, 1840, 1841, 1843, 1848. Grand 
Medal of Honor, 1855 ( Exposition Universelle). One of the 
eight Grand Medals of Honor ( Exposition Universelle ), 1867 ; 
Grand Medal of Honor ( Exposition Universelle ), 1878. Cheva- 
lier of the Legion of Honor, 1846 ; Officer of the same, 1856 ; 
Commander of the same, 1867 ; Grand Officer of the same, 
1878. Member of the Institute of France, 1861. Honorary 
member of the Royal Academy, London. 

No. 49 — On the Look-Out. Page 65 

MICHEL (Georges), dec’d. 
Born, 1763. Died, 1843. 

No. 12 — Harvesters of the Sea. 
No. 41 — The Forest Road. 

No. 58 — Montmartre 

Page 26 




1 1 

MILLET (Jean Francois), dec’d. 

Born at Greville, France, 1814. Pupil of Langlois at Cher- 
bourg. The Municipality of Cherbourg gave him a small pen- 
sion that he might go to study in Paris. Became pupil of Paul 
Delaroche in 1837, and the friend of Corot, Rousseau, Dupre, 
and Diaz. Medals, Paris, 1853, 1864, 1867 (. Exposition Univer- 
selle). Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 1868. Died, 1875. 
Diploma to the Memory of Deceased Artists, 1878. 

No. 48 — The Seamstress Page 64 

MILLET (Francois). 


Son and pupil of his father, Jean Francois Millet, deceased. 

No. 49. — The Haystack 

Page 65 

PORTELJE (G£rARd) Antwerp 

No. 15 — The Old Campaigner Page 29 

RICHET (LfioN). 


Bom at Solesmes. Pupil of Diaz, Lefebvre, and Boulanger. 
Honorable mention, Salon, Paris, 1885. 

No. 18 — The Border of the Forest 

Page 32 



ROUSSEAU (P. E. Th£odore), dec’d. 

Born at Paris, 1812. Pupil of Lethiere. Showed himself a 
naturalist from the first, and for thirteen years was excluded 
from the Salon by an Academic jury. First exhibited in 1833. 
Medals, 1834, 1849, 1855. Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 
1852. One of the eight Grand Medals of Honor {Exposition 
Universclle), Paris, 1867. Died, 1867. Diploma to the Mem- 
ory of Deceased Artists, 1878. 

No. 21 — The Walled Fawn. 
No. 36 — The Farm, Sunset. 
No. 46 — The Goatherd . . . . 

Page 35 


.... 61 


No. 2 — The Web of Fate. 


Page 16 

STAMMEL (Prof. Eberhard) Dusseldorf 

Bom in Duren, 1832. Studied at Dusseldorf under Sohn, also 
at Antwerp, Paris, and Munich. 

No. 8 — A Fleasing Discovery. 

Page 22 

TAMBURINI (Antonio) Rom< 

No. 5 — The Pride of the Cellar Page 19 

PROYON (Constantine), dec'd. 

Bom at Sevres, 1810. Died, 1865. Pupil of Rivereux. Medals, 
1838, 1840, 1848, 1855. Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 
1849. Member of the Academy of Amsterdam. Diploma to 
the Memory of Deceased Artists, 1878. 

No. 22 — The Farm 

No. 26 — Grazing 

No. 39 — Strayed from the Herd. 

Page 36 


.... 54 



VAN MARCKE (Emile) Paris 

Born at Sevres, 1827. Pupil of Troyon. Medals, 1867, 1869, 
1870, 1878. Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 1872. 

No. 38 —At the Pool Page 53 

VIBERT (Jean Georges) Paris 

Born in Paris, 1840. Pupil of l’Ecole des Beaux-Arts, and of 
Barrias, Paris. Medals, Paris, 1864, 1867, 1868, 1878 ( Exposi- 
tion Universelle). Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 1870. 

No. 25 — Monsignor at his Ease Page 39 

WEEKS (Edwin Lord) Paris 

Born in Boston, 1849. Pupil of Bonnat and Gerome. Honor- 

able Mention, Paris, Salon, 1885. Gold Medal (. Exposition 
Universelle), 1889. 

No. 16 — The Pottery Merchant. Page 30 

WIGGINS (Carleton) New York 

Bom at Turners, N. Y., 1848. Pupil of the National Academy, 
N. Y., also studied in Paris, 1880-81. Gold Medal Prize Fund 
Exhibition, N. Y., 1887. 

No. 6 — In the Orchard Page 20 

No. 40 — The Approaching Storm 55 

No. 56 — Among the Rushes 73 


* 4 ,» Dimensions are given in Inches, and refer to Canvas or Panel, 


the Width. 

No. i 


“ Memories ” 

10 % x 8 % 

Immersed in reflection, an old gentleman, whose social condition 
is indicated by the sober richness of his attire, sits upon a stone 
bench, in a park green with the ripeness of midsummer. It is easy 
to discover in his pensive attitude, with his hands resting on the 
head of his staff, a dreamer, who, in the (to the spectator) unseen 
pageant passing before him in this familiar place, holds a phantom 
review of the past. Around him is the vitality of nature and the 
vivaciousness of life. He and his thoughts have passed the bound- 
ary line of vigorous existence, and he lives his appointed time out in 
communion with his memories. The red suit of the figure and the 
green background constitute a perfect harmony of color made brill- 
iant by intrinsic strength instead of artificial. contrast. 

A pleasant little story, not without a touch of. pathos, attaches to this picture. 
While the painter was still a student under Drolling, with no special idea as to 
his future steps in art, he frequently encountered in his rambles in the Bois de 
Boulogne an old gentleman, quaintly attired in the fashion of a previous gen- 
eration, who always sat upon the same seat, motionless, thoughtful, evidently 
dozing his long life away heedless of the hurrying world and its cares. He 
was the last member of a noble family, impoverished by the Revolution, but 
pensioned by some old family friend more fortunate in worldly gear than he. 
Years after the old gentleman of the Bois had passed beyond the necessity of 
pensions, and when the young art student had become a famous artist, chance 
sent him a model who reminded him of his old acquaintance of the park, and 
with picturesque liberties of costume Brillouin painted him as he is here. 



No. 2 


“The Web of Fate” 

IOX 13 

The web of fate has often been spun for man in such fashion as 
this. The whir of the spinning-wheel has swelled and slackened in 
rhythmic harmony with the tinkle of the mandolin and the soft plead- 
ings of the idle cavalier who has come to terminate his courtship 
for good or ill. Summer sunlight blazes in the chateau garden. The 
harmony of nature, through the open casement, has accompanied 
those evoked by love and labor within. And now the decisive 
moment has arrived. The lute is laid aside. The wheel has buzzed 
itself to rest. That the web woven by fate and made fast by Cupid 
will be rudely broken, no suggestion of the picture gives us any 
authority for believing. 

_ Savini is best known as a painter of episodes of this character, trifling in 
themselves, but made agreeable by their charm of color, their sparkling execu- 
tion, and the suggestiveness with which their stories are told. Life and love 
are quite as romantic to-day as they were three centuries ago; but in the past 
they enjoyed the advantage of surroundings which added picturesqueness to 
sentiment and lent them an attractiveness to the eye quite independent of their 
appeal to the intelligence. That they should appeal to the artistic mind as 
strongly as they do is but natural, and that they should strike a responsive 
chord in the popular heart is equally comprehensible and just. 


1 7 

No. 3 


“A Mediaeval Ruin” 


Through a vista of the forest, framed in with great trees, one sees, 
beyond the precipitous verge of the foreground, a savage and wooded 
ravine, out of which rises a tempest-scarred crag, crowned by a 
mediaeval ruin. It is a last decaying souvenir of the days when the 
robber barons levied taxes on all who passed their castles, perched 
upon almost inaccessible summits above the common highway, both 
for purpose of defence and of observation of the approach of prey. 
Corot’s subject for this sketch was found on one of the old roads in 
the south of France by which traffic and travel passed into Italy; and 
the castle, the abode of the owl and the adder when the artist fixed 
its passing existence with his brush, had been, according to local 
legend, the stronghold in the past of one of the most formidable 
bands of robbers in old Provence. 

Corot, the son of thrifty bourgeois parents, was, upon leaving school, sent 
by his father to serve his apprenticeship with a cloth merchant. He proved a 
recalcitrant pupil of the trade, given to sketching landscapes on the bill-heads 
and adorning the business correspondence of the house with original designs. 
His master gave him up in despair. “ He is no good in the shop,” said he, 
41 perhaps he may be worth his salt out of doors.” So young Corot was sent 
out with samples of cloth and trimmings to drum up trade among the small 
retailers and little tailors of Paris. He was given all the out of fashion and 
unsalable odds and ends in the shop, and his failure to find a market for them 
led to his dismissal. The elder Corot raved and stormed, but his son had fixed 
his resolution to become a painter, and could not be moved by threats or per- 
suasions to another Essay at the pleasures of commercial life. After a long 
contest his father, who was well-to-do and quite able to afford him the indul- 
gence, consented to gratify his ambition, and Corot was entered at the studio 
of Victor Bertin as a pupil. 41 And so,” he was wont to say, “ from handling 
cloths that would not sell, I took to manufacturing cloths for which I soon 
found that there was even less of a market. But there was, at any rate, the 
pleasure of creation and production here, whether it sold or not.” 



No. 4 


“ The Willow Brook ” 

8^ x 10X 

A little river flows serenely between banks of greensward and 
harvest fields, and palisades of old oaks and dwarf willows. On 
the mirror-like surface of the stream, the color of the sky, which 
has a centre of illuminated cloud, is reflected. The coloring is in 
the artist's ripest richness, and the little canvas has the power of the 
most spacious work. Dupr^ was excessively fond of these cabinet 
pieces, because he believed that he could in them illustrate his 
theory, that mere size had nothing to do with the aspect of a 
picture ; that the immensity of nature could be rendered quite as 
well in the space of inches as in that of yards. 

Of Jules Dupr£, Mr. Theodore Child wrote from Paris, to The Sun of this 
city, on the occasion of his death last October, an admirable study, of which 
the following is a part : 

“ Born at Nantes in 1811, son of a porcelain manufacturer, he was taught 
industrial drawing at an early age, but having shown a taste for painting he 
was sent to Paris and studied in the atelier of M. Diebold. He first exhibited 
at the Salon of 1831, and then travelled all over France and England sketching 
and making pictures. In 1833 he obtained a second-class medal at the Salon ; 
at the Universal Exhibition of 1867, another second-class medal ; in 1849 he was 
created Knight of the Legion of Honor; in 1870 he was promoted officer ; 
at the Exhibition of 1889 l le obtained a medal of honor, and his name was on 
the list for promotion to the grade of Commander of the Legion of Honor. 
Duprd was the last of the men of that generation full of flame and fury, of 
excess of strength and splendid exaggeration, which revolutionized artistic 
France after the historical days of July, 1830. His pictures dazzle eyes that 
are accustomed to sober gray ; but as Gautier has said : ‘ These violent men, 
whose very name made the Institute shudder with horror, were gloriously in 
the right. Do what he will, man is always below the ideal and the real, and 
his most superlative effort, far from going beyond the mark, scarcely even 
reaches it.’ ” 


J 9 

No. 5 


“The Pride of the Cellar” 

12 % X IO 

An old convent cellarer has been sent to procure the prize wine 
of his bins for the enjoyment of some monkish revellers. He clasps 
the great wicker-covered flask in his arms as a father might carry 
his sleeping child. His eyes dwell on it with regret at parting, 
tempered by a longing for a sip of its time-ripened contents and a 
sniff at their bouquet. Over the years during which it has lain at 
rest his memory travels back as he bears it to the sacrifice. It has, 
perhaps, outlived all the hands that plucked its grapes and pressed 
their life-blood out to be sealed up in a dusky vault until the 
alchemy of nature should make every drop within the dust-buried 
bottle as precious as pure gold. But its day of doom has sounded 
at last. In a few hours more, there will be nothing left of it but a 
shattered flask upon the rubbish heap, and the recollection of the 
cellarer who guarded it so long. 

A native of Florence, and the holder of medals of honor at the Exhibitions 
of Florence and of Rome, Antonio Tamburini possesses also, among 
collectors, a popularity which is easily his due. His pictures are characterized 
by purity and clearness of color, a modest brilliancy of effect, and a pains- 
taking but not laborious technique. His monkish subjects are esteemed his 
best. The Italian spirit of good-humored satire of the ecclesiastical insti- 
tutions, to which the country nevertheless bows humbly, is strong within him. 
He has his jest at the expense of the Church, and yet is a devout son to it, and 
the Church laughs at the joke upon itself, and grants the jester ready abso- 
lution for his effervescent irreverence. 



No. 6 


“ In the Orchard ” 

12 X iS 

The scene is a Long Island orchard, within the confines of the 
historic Hamptons. Under the hardy fruit-trees, gnarled and twisted 
by the winds that sweep in from the sea, sheep are grazing on the 
short but juicy turf. Beyond the orchard fence, basking in sun- 
light, are grainfields and stacks of hay. The season of the summer 
is drawing to its end, and field and orchard are ripe for the hand of 
the harvester. 

The eastern end of Long Island, once famous from its association with the 
Beecher family, has become to-day an artistic colony which holds in a propor- 
tionate relation to New York the place that Barbizon does with Paris. A few 
years ago its discovery as a sketching ground was hailed with delight by the 
little coterie of painters who constituted the famous Tile Club. After they had 
explored the ground and pointed the way, others of the guild followed in their 
footsteps. At first it was merely sketching parties that invaded the Hamptons, 
spending a few weeks of the summer there, but after a time an actual artistic 
settlement began. Artists, weary of the country boarding-house, built sum- 
mer cottages and studios for themselves, or transformed the ancient habita- 
tions of the district to suit their needs. Easthampton became their special 
abiding-place. The availability of the district to the city, from which it is 
but a few hours removed by rail, and the fact that it offered subjects equally to 
the landscape and figure painter, to the painter of cattle and the painter of the 
sea, attracted to it representatives of every walk in native art, among the first 
of whom was Mr. Wiggins, who has found some of his most attractive subjects 
among its old orchards and its breezy downs. 



No. 7 


“The Seine at Ivry” 

14 x 20 

The river is busy with barges, the freight-carriers of the Seine, 
which travel to and from the factories and their metropolitan mar- 
kets of supply or sale. The shore is busy with the factories them- 
selves, with chimneys belching smoke, and all the stir of industry at 
full speed. One could scarcely expect to find a less favorable sub- 
ject for artistic treatment than the hard, mechanical aspect and 
employment of a manufacturing suburb of a great city ; but what 
with the brightness and sparkle of river and sky, and the varied out- 
lines and masses of the workshops and other structures which make 
up the composition, the artist has produced a picture whose techni- 
cal treatment invites commendation, while in its entirety it appeals 
with pleasing effect to the eye. 

Forty miles from Paris is Ivry-la-Bataille, where Henry IV. administered 
such a drubbing to the Duke de Mayenne, as Macaulay commemorates it in 
his stirring ballad. It is a place of history alone ; one of the dullest and 
sleepiest towns in France, forgotten by most people in its rural desuetude. 
Ivry-sur-Seine, however, is quite a different community. It is one of the most 
busy and thriving of industrial cities. It is a suburb of Paris, which has be- 
come a centre for the manufacture of glass, earthenware, and chemicals, and 
forms part of the circle of fortifications built for the defence of the city ; the 
fort of Ivry, on the left bank of the Seine, being one of the most powerful in 
the girdle of protectors of the gay city. The river above Paris has, thanks to 
its atmospheric advantages, the alternating variety of its rural and suburban 
scenery and its accessibility to the city, long been a favorite sketching route 
for the artist, who, as Mr. Bogert shows us, finds even in unromantic, practi- 
cal, and industrious Ivry itself, material plastic to his brush. The placid river, 
scarcely ruffled by a ripple, the clear, cool sky, which, once you get away from 
the smoke fog rf Paris, has the tint of opal and of pearl, the barges, pictur- 
esque in their slow -moving ungainliness, modify the ugliness of the shore, and 
lend their picturesqueness of form and color to the redemption of the scene. 



No. 8 


“A Pleasing Discovery” 

15# X 13 

There has been a great deal of negotiating over this bond before 
it was carried to the point which made the affixing of the great leaden 
seal a concluding operation of the contract. Under such circum- 
stances, the terms and clauses of the compact should certainly have 
been defined without mistakes. But for all that, the thrifty old 
money-lender, whose strong-boxes have disgorged some of their store 

to further a spendthrift on his brief career, has discovered a flaw in 

them which adds cent-per-cent to his interest, and lights his shrewd 

old face up with a smile which he is too politic to allow to become a 
grin of satisfaction, even in the privacy of his own sanctum. 

A painter of many episodes of this character, in which the suggestion of the 
story is never spoiled by a coarse effort at direct’ effect, Stammel, among all 
the artists of Dusseldorf to-day, probably ranks highest in his power of utiliz- 
ing the simple facts of nature for the best results. His natural predilection is 
for the study of textures, and for experiments in rich color applied in simple 
schemes, which renders this choice of subjects particularly agreeable to him, 
and makes his treatment of them happiest. The face of the money-lender is 
said to be a portrait, very vividly limned from memory, of one of the m # ost 
opulent and widest known usurers in Germany. 



No. 9 



“ Belated ” 

? 9 

18 % x 8 X 

The day is late, and the night wind is rising bitter with frost. 
It is almost the hour for the gray wolf to slink from its hungry 
ambush in the snow-mantled thicket, and the huntsman has yet a 
smart ride between himself and shelter and supper, not to mention 
safety. A weary steed cannot stop to count its footsteps, when 
urged by the fury of impatience not unmingled with anxiety. 
Already the wayfarer can see dark spots that move along the horizon 
with a sinister significance to him, and the snowy steppe is measured 
with long bounds as the spurred and flogged jade bears its master 
forward in his frantic race against the night and its terrors. 

The life of the Polish people, which still preserves so much of its patriarchal 
picturesqueness, has furnished material for a little body of modern painters in 
Munich and in Paris, generally Poles themselves, which has produced much 
spirited and brilliant work. Of the group of Poles educated at the Munich 
Art Schools, Alfred Kowalski is probably the most noteworthy. Friederich 
Pecht, the great German critic, speaks of him as a remarkable talent, and 
especially commends his frequent touches of humor, and the fine national 
character that he secures in his pictures. Kowalski is a huntsman and a wild 
horseman, as well as a painter, and his subjects are rendered invariably from 
personal observation. One snowy night he rode up to a posting-house on the 
Polish steppes, his horse exhausted and himself shaking with excitement. He 
had been chased some miles by wolves. He greeted the party of Russian 
officers of his acquaintance, who were gathered at supper, with a shout, 
“ Such a subject ! But upon my honor I was afraid at one time I should not 
live to paint it.” The picture was exhibited by him the following year, and is 
now in the Russian imperial collection. 






No. io 


“ The River Road ” 

12 X 16 

The land has been refreshed by a summer shower, and the sunset 
makes a play of brilliant color amid the rifted clouds still heavy 
with moisture. Gathering shades of evening additionally enrich a 
landscape ripe with the full fruition of the year. The waters of a 
placid and shallow little river reflect the sombre shadows of a clump 
of trees in the middle distance, and the country stretches away 
beyond, to the horizon, with a last gleam of light marking its undu- 
lations. The river road is tracked out upon the grassy bank in the 
foreground, and at the margin of the stream two seated figures are 
seen. True and powerful in color and admirable in composition, the 
picture represents the painter in the plenitude of his power. 

Born in New York in 182/, David Johnson’s art is a product entirely of 
personal study and observation. Although he received a few preliminary 
lessons from Jasper F. Cropsey, the painter really found in Nature his true 
teacher and master. He has, of all the great American landscape painters, 
acquired least by contact with the art of Europe, and his style is essentially 
the result of experiment and individual intelligence and feeling. He has never 
been abroad, and his works all illustrate, with a remarkably level, high 
standard of excellence, types of familiar native scenery. A fine harmony of 
rich color is one of their distinguishing characteristics. With this is allied a 
massive dignity of composition and a firm and accurate rendition of form. 
These qualities have won for the artist a place in American art similar to that 
of Rousseau in France. 



No, 11 


“ The Forest’s Depth ” 

8)<£ Xii 

The mystery of the wildwood ever possessed for Diaz a subtle 
charm. It was not only for what he saw in it, but for what it hid, 
that he loved to paint it. He dwelt upon such subjects with a lin- 
gering adoration, and wherever he is seen at his best it is in one of 
these shadowy scenes, full of lurking splendors of rich color, accent- 
uated by flashes of light from casual breaks in the vault of verdure, 
with openings in which glimmer the waters of a forest pool, where 
the deer may drink and the blackcock bathe, secure from the murder- 
ous interruption of an intruding human foot. The artist, armed 
with his brush, has privileges in such a spot which the hunter, 
equipped for slaughter, never can enjoy. 

A magnificent individuality in the personnel of art is that of the wooden- 
legged painter of the Forest of Fontainebleau, sturdy and indomitable comba- 
tant, proud and disdainful of the favors of life, who won his artistic victory by 
the undeviating force of his personal confidence. He begged no man to buy 
of him. When picture dealers and collectors alike shrugged their shoulders at 
his canvases he said, 41 Very well, I can afford to keep them,” and so stumped 
off to starve, like a soldier in the field, who, when his rations are short, buckles 
his belt a hole tighter and looks to the enemy for his next meal. Of all the 
painters of the Barbizon group, Diaz was the most distinguished personally, 
because the man had in him embers of the fiery Spanish spirit that makes 
proud poverty a virtue and genius a sacred thing. In life as in art, he was 
ever a master, a magister, and above all a man. 



No. 12 


“Harvesters of the Sea” 

13 * 17 

The sea is darkened by the shadow of a stormy sky, in which the 
light of calm still struggles for supremacy. The fishermen, harvest- 
eis of the sea, who reap a scanty subsistence at a measureless price 
of peril and of toil, have made for land under the threat of the 
tempest to come. Some have already beached their boats. Others 
are scudding shoreward before the puffing gale. On a rocky head- 
land in the middle plane, the sturdy ruin of an old castle, mantled 
in ivy, provides a beacon for them to steer by into safety. As in all 
of Michel’s best pictures, the contrast between the turbulency of the 
blustrous sky and the sombre solidity of the earth is made strikingly 

Georges Michel, born in Paris on January 12 , 1763, was one of the most 
extraordinary characters in the history of art in France. He was a sturdy 
little man, witty and vain, and naturally gifted as an artist. He painted for 
pure love of painting, disdained all schools and traditions in art, and produced 
an incredible number of pictures, to which he never signed his name unless 
requested by a purchaser to do so ; because, as he put it, “ No man will ever 
paint like me; consequently my pictures require no signature.” Michel was 
the real founder of the school of naturalism of which Millet, Rousseau, Diaz, 
Corot, and their contemporaries are the accepted apostles. He died on June 
7, 1843. 


2 7 

No. 13 



“The Bookworm” 

14 X 11 

A prim and precise old gentleman, whose scrupulous neatness of 
attire makes his grimy surroundings doubly dingy by contrast, has 
meandered into the shop of a junkman, seduced by the prospect of a 
prize among the battered volumes heaped up in a corner. He has 
found a book to his taste ; and, lost to everything but it, he devours it 
page by page, undisturbed by the chaffering of sordid trade and the 
squalid atmosphere about him. Meanwhile, the proprietor of the 
shop, secure of the customer who has quartered himself upon him, 
leaves him to himself, and dickers in the doorway with a peasant, 
who is looking for a bargain in old iron, or a set of second-hand 
shoes for his bony team. 

The circumstances under which Brillouin chanced upon the subject for this 
characteristic picture form a little historiette in themselves. During one of his 
summer vacations, he found himself in one of the border cities of France— 
possibly in Strasbourg. The landlord of his hotel became interested upon the 
discovery that his guest was a painter, and exhibited to him several authentic 
and valuable antiquities that he treasured among his household gods. These he 
said he had obtained from a certain second-hand dealer near by, who sold every- 
thing, from pictures and books down to worn-out sabots and broken crockery. 
Brillouin, interested in turn, sought out this magazine of illimitable possibili- 
ties, and secured from his exploration of it a number of objects of quaint 
antiquity which he added to the treasures of his studio. Beyond this he secured 
the close and faithful study of the shop itself, which served him for a back- 
ground for his figure of the bookworm, and formed the groundwork of one of 
his most successful pictures. 



No. 14 


“Porte de Bergerie 

13 X 9^ 

The blue-bloused shepherd is calling his flock out of the fold. 
The leaders advance hesitatingly, pushed by others behind them, into 
the bright daylight from which they have been shut up. The end of 
an inclement season has arrived, and the flock is destined for one of 
the long pasturages, as the shepherd’s haversack, loaded with black- 
bread and strong cheese for his own nourishment, shows. 

Charles Jacque is the most variously gifted artist of his nation and time in 
the diversity of his technique. He commenced active life at the age of seven- 
teen as an engraver of maps. When he tired of this, which was very soon, he 
enlisted as a soldier. After seven years of service in the ranks he went back 
to map engraving, but only for a brief space. While in the army he had culti- 
vated his natural talent for drawing, and one morning he resigned his topo- 
graphical work forever and went in quest of a job as a draughtsman on wood. 
He found one, and shortly after emigrated to England, where he obtained 
regular employment, both in making original drawings on the block and in 
copying paintings for engraving on wood. He had already begun experi- 
menting as an etcher, and to him may be ascribed the origin of the great 
modern revival in the art. He painted also, generally rustic scenes. His first 
successes in oil were made with pictures of poultry, for which he had such a 
passion that he bred cocks and hens in his bedroom at his lodgings. These 
were at once his pets and his models. As soon as Jacque found that his etch- 
ings were popular enough to pay for publication he devoted himself largely to 
their production. Their aggregate is estimated at over 500 plates, forming a 
number of valuable series of rustic scenes. He contributed also striking car- 
icatures to Charivari , experimented in lithography, and painted in water 
colors and pastel. To everything he brought an individual touch and spirit. 
The popularity of his paintings was not long in enabling him to abandon his 
hack work for the wood engravers, to which he never returned. He has pro- 
duced little of recent years, living in retirement on his farm, of which it is said 
the chicken houses occupy more space than does the artist’s home. 


2 9 

No. 15 ? 


“ The Old Campaigner ” 

18 X 24 

A veteran of the great wars, wounded and laid aside from the 
ranks, is on his homeward way, to a future of superfluous old age, 
the long familiar musket replaced by a pacific bundle and stick. He 
has halted at a wayside tavern, where over his modest refreshment 
he entertains the garde champetre, the landlord, and one of the cro- 
nies of the peaceful house with some of the thrilling stories of his 
campaigns, that no doubt lose none of their romance in the recital. 
The rustics listen, absorbed in interest and admiration, and, thanks 
to the old soldier's eloquence, almost imagine themselves actors in 
the stirring scenes he describes. Executed in the painter’s best 
style and spirit. 

Among a certain class of subject painters, Portelje has long held high popu- 
lar rank. He possesses in an eminent degree the faculty of the story-teller, 
while his technical ability is of a high order. There may be scored to his credit 
a number of admirably executed canvases, which, entirely apart from their 
value as compositions with a narrative purpose, possess a merit of their own 
for accuracy of drawing, discriminating skill in color, and an execution at once 
frank and complete. The tavern interior shown in this picture is a study of a 
historical wayside hostelry, whose association with the incidents of the later 
Napoleonic campaigns no doubt suggested to the artist the subject for the little 
page from the book of real life for which he made it the frame. 





No. 16 

lj% 3 • 5 '"' 


“The Pottery Merchant” 

= 5/6 * 20 

i r 

The entire stock in trade of a Hindoo pottery merchant is exposed 
for sale in front of his shop. There are all varieties of native earthen- 
ware, from the great porous water-jars and the double-armed goglets, 
in which water is cooled, down to rice dishes and a bit or two of 
glazed ware, poor enough in itself, but fine by contrast with its 
humble associates in trade. The painter has given careful attention 
to the different textures and qualities of clay of which these objects 
are composed, with successful results. The pottery merchant him- 
self, sheltered in his dark little cabin from the sunlight that blazes 
on the outer walls and on the roof overgrown with vegetation, bar- 
gains with a customer in the doorway, whose yellow robe provides 
the keynote for the color of the picture. 

While Egypt and North Africa have long been popular subject sources, espe- 
cially for the painters of France and Spain, but few of the artists of our day 
have ventured into the remoter Orient in search of material for their brushes. 
Perhaps the most noteworthy of these exceptional adventurers is Mr. Weeks. 
Like the others he began his voyages with trips from the studios of Bonnat 
and Gerome to Cairo, and sojourns in Moorish Spain, in Morocco, Tangiers, 
and Algiers. Thence he drifted to Jerusalem and Damascus, and finally, look- 
ing still farther afield, to India. His pictures from this latter field are those 
which have attracted most attention of late years. The novelty of the life they 
depict, its garish splendor of color and barbaric sumptuousness of adornment 
and ceremonial, familiar as they have been made by printed descriptions, are 
presented by the painter with a vividness doubly forcible and striking, 
dressed as they are in a commensurate dazzle of sunlight, and a power of glow- 
ing and gleaming color in nature, that offsets that in the humanity which ani- 
mates it. 



No. 17 


“ An American Girl ” 

i8>j x 15 

Mr. Blackman has presented us with a more charming type of an 
American girl than once did Mr. Henry James. He shows her to us 
in profile, with a roseate background, her fair face rather pensive in 
expression, and her downcast eyes softened by the tenderness of 
streams. The picture is an idealized portrait of the highest type, in 
| which every detail, from the splendid crown of chestnut hair to the 
filmy drapery that veils the shapely shoulders, is rendered by the art- 
ist with a delicately sensitive hand. 

Of all the pupils of Gdrftme whom America can claim as native to her soil, 
Mr. Blackman betrays, perhaps, the least subjection to the methods of his mas- 
ter. His talent, without being largely ambitious, has a decidedly original bent, 
and while one occasionally finds suggestions of the G6r6me school in his 
smooth and polished technique , no traces of mere imitation are discoverable 
in him. The artist is especially happy in rendering the more delicate types of 
female beauty, to which he always lends an ideal quality that removes them 
from the realm of portraiture into that of creative art. 



No. 18 


“The Border of the Forest” 

15 X 1 


A scene on the outskirts of the forest of Fontainebleau, which 
■one might almost imagine from the brush of Diaz. It is, in fact, 
the production of a pupil who adopted much of his master’s style. 
A group of trees occupies the foreground. Beyond one sees an 
open landscape, lighted through the middle distance from a clouded 
sky. The coloring is rich and strong, and the picture harmonious 
in tone and solid in quality. 

he works are but little known in America of this devoted pupil of a great 
artist who has himself reached a degree of unqualified eminence in his art. 

ic charming pictures of Richct command an appreciation from Frencli 
collectors and connoisseurs that prevents their finding their way into an open 
market, except by the accident of the disposal of a collection. The greater 
number of his subjects are found at Fontainebleau, where he paints over the 
ground that Diaz cultivated to such artistic effect, and this fact adds not 1 
little to the suggestion of that master that the pictures of his pupil convey 
Richct has been an exempt of the Salon since 1885, and in z888 received a third 
class medal. 



No. 19 



“ The Bridge ” 

II X 16X 

:s, studies, and sketches, one may read the history 
of his travels. This is a page from his roamings in Southern 
Europe. A vast landscape, rocky and bare, extends in broken planes 
and irregular masses, under the ardent blue sky of the South, 
h rom an elevation in the foreground, over which a road passes, 
we look down upon the windings of a river which the road crosses 
by an ancient, castellated bridge, evidently built to dominate the 
highway as well as further its progress over the stream. Solitude 
adds gravity to the romantic associations of the storied past aroused 
by the scene. 

Corot made Ilia first visit to Italy in 1835 and remained there three years. 
On this and subsequent occasions here, and in the South of France, he 
secured many subjects of the greatest historical interest for their recording of 
the decaying and disappearing monuments to early and medheval civilization : 
“The Bridge” Is one of these. It is a relic of the middle ages, in that 
portion of the old Roman territories In Gaul, commonly known as Provence. 
The bridge is said to have long since disappeared, and the river, one of the 
tributaries of the Rhone, to have become a mere ditch by the silting up under 
which most of the streams of Southern France have ceased to be navigable. 




No. 20 


“ A Barbizon Prairie ” 

9 X x 12X 

One of the plains on the skirts of the famous forest of Fontaine- 
bleau reaches into a distance of purple hills, under a gray and 
clouded sky. The foreground is broken with bushes and irregu- 
larities of the richly grassed soil. In the middle distance are some 
oaks, majestic in their superb simplicity of form. The tone is 
subdued, without sombreness. The color scheme is rich, the effect 
powerful, and the execution broad and decided without sacrifice of 
completeness in detail or quality. 

Duprd’s home life at L’Isle Adam, where, separated from his birthplace only 
by the width of the river Oise, he lived, worked, and died, was once beauti- 
fully described by one of his friends. “It is,” said he, “a modest house, 
comfortable with the bourgeoise comfort that makes no pretence— a house in 
which everything is calculated for the restful pleasure of an industrious life. 
No street noise invades its walls to disturb the painter at his labor, which 
never ends. The family, attentive and tender, guard his privacy as a sacred 
thing. Souvenirs of his great friends surround him on the walls -magnificent 
drawings by Theodore Rousseau among others, and a superb picture by Corot, 
bought by Dupre out of his savings, and which he has refused to part with 
even upon an offer of 50,000 francs. As often happens, a friend is a guest at 
the hospitable board, and when the dinner is done, and Dupr£ has lighted his 
pipe, the master talks, and we listen to his souvenirs. The spirit of his youth 
wakes in him again. His words fill the dim room with glorious phantoms. 
The great battle of art wages among the shadows till the pipes are out and the 
hour of rest is at hand.” 




<n> to 

No. 21 


“The Walled Farm” 

6 * XI * J Ob 0 

An old farm, with rambling outhouses, all surrounded by orchards, 
is enclosed within a girdle of stout stone walls that give it a mano- 
rial aspect. Such farms were not uncommon in France half a cen- 
tury ago, and some remain to-day. Over the grassy plain a river 
flashes in the warm light of late afternoon, and a chain of hills gives 
variety to the horizon line. 

It is said to have been in the vicinity of this farm that the artist obtained 
the material for his famous masterpiece “ Le Givre,” or “The Hoarfrost.” 

Monsieur Albert Wolff, in his inimitable “ La Capitale de l’Art,” recites of 
this latter great picture, that one morning Jules DupnS entered the apartments 
of Baroilhet, the then great baritone of the opera, and said : “ I have a bar- 
gain for you, old boy ; I have a chef d' oeuvre to sell.” “And by whom ?” 
asked the singer. “Theodore Rousseau.” “He certainly has talent,” said 
Baroilhet, “ plenty of it; but money is deuced scarce.” “You can pay it 
in two installments,” insinuated Duprd, “250 francs a month.” “ And where is 
your chef d' oeuvre ? ” Dupre signalled from the window, and presently the 
commissionnaire whom he had left waiting outside entered with his burden. 

Baroilhet, a man of taste and one of the first to give any encouragement to 
the painters of 1830, viewed the unveiling of the canvas with enthusiasm. He 
paid the required sum for the picture, which Dupr6 had been vainly hawking 
over Paris all the morning in order to relieve Rousseau’s pressing needs, and 
became the possessor of “ Le Givre,” which at his sale, twenty years later, com- 
manded the price of 17,000 francs, and which is now numbered among the 
masterpieces of the Barbizon school in the great private collections of the 
United States. 



No. 22 


“ The Farm ” 

13 X II 

Troyon, who set out as a landscape painter, was from the start 
still a diligent student, whenever opportunity offered, of farm life 
and character. He here gives us, with vigorous and characteristic 
strokes, full of color and spirit, a corner of an old farmyard, where 
the poultry forage for food, and some sheep and an old cow gather, 
as is their gregarious wont, waiting for the familiar call to feed. 
The character of the scenery, the dwarf willows, and the farm build- 
ings would suggest the scene to be in one of the upper districts of 

It is said to have been the accident of a trip into Holland that made a cattle 
painter of Troyon. Previous to that time he had confined himself almost en- 
tirely to landscape, and while his productions had been received with the 
respect their vigor and originality commanded, they had brought him no profit- 
able fame. The fact was, that he was too great a colorist to be able to give full 
expression to himself in landscape falone. The pictures of Paul Potter, it is 
believed, first opened his eyes and gave him a hint as to his true path. After 
his return to Paris, the public were surprised by the complete transformation 
in his subjects, and the remarkable advance in their results. His animals, 
largely painted, with admirable color, fairly lived in landscapes brushed in 
with a master hand. From this moment, Troyon’s success was assured, for 
the furor for his pictures which then broke out only increased with time, and 
is even more ardent to-day than when he died. • 



No. 23 


“ The Alchemist ” 

13 X 9 % 

The seeker after the philosopher’s stone is absorbed in the 
mystery of his quest in his laboratory. He stands at his furnace, 
over whose bed of glowing coals some mystic combination which is 
to transform base metal into gold is being fused. The gravity of 
his face expresses that of his task. The room, littered with the 
tools and appliances of his work, is sombre with such shadows as 
belong to secret employments, prosecuted guardedly behind barred 
and bolted doors. 

Without any competent knowledge of the academic rules of art, Decamps 
was one of the great artists and reformers of his revolutionary time. His work 
exhibits, in all its phases, the fierce and energetic spirit which swayed its creator, 
whose childhood was intellectually dwarfed by a parental tyranny which made 
the boy, with the soul of a poet, the companion of peasants, a little savage of the 
forests of Picardy, whose power of study was spoiled forever by the freedom 
of his rude and untrammelled boyhood. Decamps subsequently educated him- 
self, at what cost of self-repression and tireless application only he could have 
told, but the habits of his robust and unrestricted youth remained with him 
until the last. One characteristic theydeveloped in him was a love of hunting, 
and it was while engaged in the chase, in the forest of Fontainebleau, in i860, 
that he was thrown from his horse and killed. 

/ r® 



No. 24 


A Belle of the Campagna 

6Xx 5 % 

One of the chief pleasures of the most brilliant period of Fortuny’s 

life — that which he spent in Rome — was to seek, among the shepherds 

and herdsmen of the Campagna, the vanishing types of the great 
Latin race, which in its day dominated the civilized world. He 
painted some superb examples of these. Here he gives us the head 
of an Italian girl, a shepherdess of the Campagna, in the ripeness of 
youthful beauty, swarthy, with a mane of black ringleted hair, and a 
budding bust that promises a classical symmetry of womanly shapeli- 
ness. That he was in love with his subject, the tender touch and 
brilliant execution of the picture show. 

That Fortuny owed his untimely death to his devotion to his studies in defi- 
ance of the treacherous Roman climate, there is no doubt. He had a magnificent 
studio in the Eternal City, which he had stuffed with art treasures for which 
he traded pictures and sketches with the dealers in antiquities in Italy, Spain, 
and Paris. He was in Grenada, painting with an incredible fury of product- 
iveness, when the servant he had left in charge of his Roman studio died. 
Fortuny returned to Rome at once, settling there in 1872, never to leave the 
city except for a trip to Venice, and in 1873, when the Roman fever prostrated 
him, to Portici, where, in a villa by the sea, he was in a fair way to recover his 
health, when, encouraged by a slight improvement in his condition, he suddenly 
shot off to Rome early in November, 1874. Before the month ended he was 
dead. The old fever, aggravated to new power by a cold contracted while 
painting out of doors in inclement weather and unhealthy atmosphere, ended 
at thirty-five a life which deserved the full limit of man’s years of usefulness 
to the world. Fortuny died in harness. Upon his death-bed he made a sketch 
for Mme. Fortuny’s album, of the death-mask of Beethoven, the composer. 



No. 25 


“ Monsignor at his Ease ” 


Serenely indifferent to the cares of Church and State, his eminence 
takes his ease in his garden. Stretched at full length on his back, 
with his head pillowed on his hands, and his eyes shaded by his hat, 
he lies among the perfumed grasses and the daisies, lulled by the 
murmur of the willow-shaded brook. His splendid ecclesiastical 
vestments make a flame of vivid color against the modest verdure, 
and constitute one of those daring experiments of contrast, of which 
the artist is so fond. The painter’s manifest intention has been to 
touch with the sly satire which is characteristic of him the luxurious 
indolence and indifference to worldly cares of a great prince of the 

Vibert will go down in the history of art as the painter of cardinals, although 
these form by no means the most numerous class of subjects he has produced. 
His trenchant satire, and the daring touch with which he handles the magnificence 
of the cardinals’ robes of office, conspire to compel an attention to these pict- 
ures, which others, quite as noteworthy perhaps, secure by the gradual process 
of progressive attractiveness. The sale of “ The Missionary’s Story,” in the 
Stewart collection, for $25,500, marks the crown of his success in this line. 
At the sale of the Stebbins collection, in 1889, his “ Spanish Diligence Office,” 
a subject of another character, in which he is equally brilliant and masterly, 
brought $9,100. It is a fact known to comparatively few, that this satirist of 
the brush is also a keen and witty wielder of the pen. Vibert is passionately 
fond of the theatre, at which he is an almost nightly attendant, and has con- 
tributed notably to its literature. His vaudeville “ Le Tribune M6canique,” 
his comedy “ Verglas,” and his comic scenes, have won him, in their degree, 
almost as much commendation as his pictures. 



S 30 

No. 26 

“ Grazing ” 

7 x 9X 

A black cow with a white face is seen in profile, walking slowly 
and grazing as she goes. The lustre of her coat, the ripe and sappy 
richness of the grass, the movement of the animal in her sedate 
progress over a secure pasturage, are admirably rendered. The 
picture is one secured originally from the artist’s studio, in which it 
was preserved by him as a keynote derived directly from nature and 
impossible of duplication. 

Among the French artists of his time, Troyon was the greatest traveller. Up 
to his death, in 1865, his restless spirit kept him constantly exploring fresh 
fields for variations of the subjects to which he had devoted himself. He pre- 
served memoranda of every nook and corner of his own country, and his 
works provide also a record of his industrious invasions of Holland, Bel- 
gium, and England, which he knew almost as familiarly as France. A tireless 
worker, his impatient spirit kept him continually on the rack with the belief 
that he was not accomplishing enough. He seldom worked continuously on 
one subject, but kept his studio full of pictures in various stages of progress, 
which he took up and set aside again as the mood moved him. When his fury 
of productiveness reached fever heat, he would depart for relief on one of 
those journeys of which “ Grazing ” is a souvenir. 



d IT - 0 

No. 27 

“ Monarch of the Herd ” 

13 X 20 

A splendid Norman bull is dozing in his stall. He is shown in 
profile, lying upright, a magnificent bulk of creamy white with 
broad black markings, his great shoulders lifted a little, his flanks 
relaxed, his hinder leg extended at ease, and his eyes closed. This 
study, made under the most favorable auspices from nature, is char- 
acterized by subtle beauties of color that are rare in the artist’s most 
ambitious works. The original was a favorite animal with Mile. 

Bonheur, not only as a model but as a personal pet, reared by her, 
and buried when its natural period of life was reached. 

Marie-Rosa Bonheur is the daughter of a painter who died in 1853, proud 
at having seen his child eclipse his own fame. She was born in Bordeaux in 
1822, and at the age of nineteen, in 1841, sent her first pictures to the Salon. She 
paints brutes, and she loves the brutes she paints. It is told of her that lions 
have been tamed at her gentle touch, and that the regal bulls of the Scotch 
Highlands have come to her to have their proud crests scratched. Personally 
she is a pure and noble woman, of the largest and most catholic sympathy with 
her kind. She was one of, if not the first person in our time to suggest the 
establishment of an official system to prevent the shameful cruelty to animals 
which her varied studies and investigations into brute life revealed to her. 




loll 0 

No. 28 

“The Hillside Path” 

9 >* * igX 

3 P> 

To Corot, nature was always grandest in its greatest simplicity. 
He illustrates it here in a broad and simple study of, the crown of a 
hill, intersected by a narrow path, up which a herdsman ascends 
toward his flock, which is indicated in the middle plane. Beyond 
the crest of the hill one obtains a purple glimpse of a distant hill. 
The sky is radiant and vibrant with the tenderly brilliant light the 
master loved to paint, the execution is broad and simple, and the 
composition unostentatiously imposing in its dignified massiveness 
and the finely felt and suggested contrast of substantial earth and 
atmospheric immensity of space. 

The picture was a favorite with the master, and was purchased 
from his collection after his death. 

It is told of Corot that he was once found painting a study of a blank white 
wall against a blank blue sky, with just a morsel of creeping vine at one end 
of the wall, and a few inches of red-tiled roof showing over the other. “ You 
can never make a picture of that,” said his friend. “ My dear friend,” he re- 
plied, “it is a picture. I hope I may be able to copy it.” And in the next 
Salon, Paris stood breathless before this blazing morsel of the burning South, 
which is to-day a treasure in one of the great collections of the world. 
Corot's whole life in art was devoted to the solution of such problems. Light 
and air he worshipped, as the Parsee the sun, and it is to be recorded of him 
that his most daring experiments in this direction were commonly his most 
conspicuous successes. 



No. 29. 


“A Clouded Sky” 

The sky is lowering with rain, and shadows the land with a menace 
of the opening of its floodgates. The mood of the brooding heavens 
is repeated in the varied inflections of light and shade in the land- 
scape. There is an anticipatory rustle in the leaves of the fine old 
oak tree in the foreground, and the stream on whose bank it stands 
reflects in the variations of cool color on its surface the clouds that 
float above it. In the middle plane a farmhouse and some grazing 
cattle lend human interest and vitality to the scene. The color is 
ripe and fresh, with all the harmoniousness of tone and fulness of 
strength that are a distinguishing characteristic of the artist at his 

The last survivor of the men of 1830, the revolutionists of French art, died in 
October, 1889, at the age of seventy-nine. It was to Jules Dupre more than any 
other that Troyon owed his encouragement and guidance in the earlier years of 
his artistic self-education, and throughout his life. Dupre was distinguished for 
the readiness with which he placed himself at the service of his brother artists, 
with substantial aid as well as mere advice and moral support. Dupre’s artistic 
career was fortunate. The purchase by the Due de Nemours of the very first 
picture he exhibited at the Salon made him to a certain extent fashionable, and 
secured for him a market which other men were many years in obtaining access 
to. While readily disposing of hisown pictures, he was also an active and ener- 
getic salesman for those of his friends. In a recent fine obituary article, Mr. 
Theodore Child sums up his character thus: “ Dupre cared for nothing but his 
art, his family, and his friends. To the end of his life he retained the fever and 
the enthusiasm of 1830. With his white beard and his longhair he seemed, in his 
later years, like a venerable apostle. His conversation was grandly poetic, and 
enamelled with quotations from the great writers. His favorite authors were 
Montaigne and La Fontaine. Like Jean Jacques Rousseau, who, as Jules Duprd 



used to say, ‘ put some green into literature,’ this great artist was not content 
merely to break with the classical and tiresome landscape of the past, nor was 
he satisfied with simple realism or even with the measured and grave sentiment 
of his English masters, Constable and Bonington. He might rather be called, 
so far as inspiration is concerned, a French Turner, but a Turner who had 
studied assiduously Ruysdael and Hobbema. Jules Dupre’s pictures are always 
full of soul and intense poetry.” 



No. 30 


“ Suspicion ” 

I2*$ X IO 

An easy-going old bachelor has dined simply but well, as is his 
wont. In the luxurious lassitude of a replete stomach, he enjoys a 
waking dream in his arm-chair, while his buxom and comely serving- 
maid clears the board. She raises the empty wine-bottle to the light, 
partly suspicious that her master has had a glass too much, and 
partly to satisfy herself that he has left the flagon burdened with no 
heeltaps, for whose disappearance she or the cat may be reproached. 
The background is a comfortable modern Flemish interior. The 
details, from the salad bowl, the dish of apples, the section of cheese, 
with its glass cover on the table, to the larger accessories, are treated 
with the same accuracy of drawing and substantial quality of execu- 
tion as the figures themselves. 

David Col is the master of getire painting of modern Belgium. He enjoys 
an equal reputation for dry wit and a humorously satirical enjoyment of human 
nature, in real life as in the works in which his mind reflects itself. This pic- 
ture is an example in point. His popularity, it would appear, has not unnat- 
urally induced unscrupulous men to forgeries of his work. So, on the back of 
the panel on which “ Suspicion ” is painted, he has squared off a tablet in 
white paint, on which he has written in pencil, in bold characters, and before 
the paint was quite dry, the following quaint pun upon the title and guarantee 
of the picture’s identity combined : 

“ ‘ Suspicion . 1 

“ I testify to having painted the picture on the other side : Antwerp, 


December, 1884. 

David Col.” 



No. 31 


“ Share and Share Alike ” 

12X X 9 x 

In a cottage kitchen the little daughter of the house and her good 
friend, the house-dog, are at luncheon. At least the child is, while 
her faithful comrade, squatting before her, patiently awaits the 
moment when he may assert his prerogative of cleaning the bowl. 
His expression is submissive, but intent. His little mistress gravely 
encourages him to further exercise of self-denial, for which there 
will be ample compensation in afternoon romps to come. The sur- 
roundings, like the chief objects of the composition, are painted with 
a simple hand, but scrupulous devotion to the mass of the details ; 
the color is subdued and strong, and the pretty little story is very 
forcibly told. 

Frenchmen regard Pierre Edouard Fr6rc as one of the artistic paradoxes of 
the century. A full-fledged pupil of Paul Delaroche, the king of classicists in 
hi9 day, Fr&rc in his productions is one of the leaders of the French realists. 
He was a modest leader, it is true, both in his subjects and Ills presentation of 
their claims upon the public. But the world, which found him out on its own 
account, has assigned him a permanent place without requesting his permis- 
sion. Frfcrc has been aptly called the Columbus of country children. He was 
their discoverer as possible models, and he has given them* a rank in art as 
Millet gave one to the peasant, and Troyon to the ploughman with his oxen 
and his shaggy dog. 



No. 32 




Morning Cup” 

ft T&ih*)*™ 

Father Francisco evidently finds the chocolate to his liking. None 
but the best could charm such an expansive smile to that contented 
face. It is the face of one who is competent to decide points of 
culinary merit, whether they apply to brewing chocolate or baking 
game pies, and the beverage it beams upon could require no higher 
praise than its indorsement provides for it. He poises the saucer 
warily, lest a single fat drop of the rich compound should waste 
itself upon the barren floor. He absorbs the delicious draught slowly, 
so that his palate may revel in the repeated luxury of deliberate in- 
dulgence, and prolongs the pleasure of the cup by mouthfuls that 

grow only more savory as they approach their end. 

Casanova made his first appearance at the Salon of 1875. being at that time 
on abusincss visit to Paris. In 1877 lie again figured as an exhibitor, and this time 
lie iiad come to stay, for he had become a permanent resident of France. The 
critical and the purely popular voice alike acclaimed the young Spaniard as a 
worthy addition to tile artistic cohort of the capital of art ; and the gaycty of 
his moods, no less than the spirit and joyousness of his technique, won him 
friends and patronage. In 1877, after the critics had accused him of an incli- 
nation to trifling and easy rather than serious work, and hinted that lie was 
incapable of grander efforts, Casanova, in the dry, satirical spirit which is part 
of his nature, prepared a surprise for them that should silence them forever. 
He sent to the exhibition at the Palais d'Industric, a huge canvas called 
“Sword and Gown.” The scene was the interior of a convent during the 
League. The monks were represented, with all the humor and nerve the artist 
was capable of, arming themselves for the civil war. The figures were life- 
size , and the treatment masterly. Casanova has not been troubled by the 
critics since. 




No. 33 


“The Serenade” 

15 X 10# 

An ardent lover has emptied his purse into the lean pouches of a 
beggar band of Spanish students, in honor of his lady love. They 
serenade her under her balcony, with the combined harmonies of 
guitar and mandolin and flute. Their leader twirls his tambourine 
aloft upon his forefinger, adding the joyous jingle of its metallic cas- 
tanets to the melodic tribute, over which the provider of the enter- 
tainment, draped in his crimson cloak, watches with jealous eyes ; 
for Spanish senoritas have been known to be fickle before, when 
beggar students have been comely and bold. For background we 
have a flash of the lights of the Prado, under the indigo sky of a 
midsummer night in Madrid. 

Fortuny was twenty-eight years of age when he went to Madrid to study and 
copy after the Spanish old masters. He painted some independent works 
besides, among them his “ Mariposa ” and a number of characteristic local epi- 
sodes, of which “ The Serenade ” is one. The romantic flavor which still per- 
meates Spanish life and customs, and links the Spain of to-day with the Spain 
of the days of Cervantes and Velasquez, found an appreciative delineator in the 
young genius whose original and daring spirit stirred Spanish art out of the 
sloth and indolence of generations of decadence, into revived life. It was dur- 
ing this first visit to Madrid that Fortuny became the friend of Madrazo, and 
eventually his son-in-law, and the picture of the serenade may quite warrant- 
ably be assumed to be a page out of his own amatory experiences, just as his 
famous “ Spanish Marriage” was suggested by the incidents and ceremonies 
of his wedding with the Senorita Madrazo. 



No. 34 


j “ The Forest Pool ” f 

J, ;t 12X17 

It is a curious fact that, of all the group of painters of which he 
made one of the leaders, Diaz, a cripple by the loss of a leg in boy- 
hood, was the one who most thoroughly explored that fertile field of 
artistic nature which they have made immortal. He knew all of 
their sketching grounds— the willow-shaded rivulets, the plains and 
fields and meadows, and the picturesque outskirts of the forest of 
Fontainebleau, and he has left painted souvenirs of all. Fie also 
knew the forest quite as well. He had, on his wooden leg, explored 
its densest fastnesses, and painted here, there, everywhere, the pools 
to which the hunted stag stole out to drink, and where the wild birds 
bathed spots to which even the foresters rarely penetrated, and 
where, when they did, they would point to the peculiar trail upon 
the ground and remark, “ The master has beenhere before us again.” 

So much has been written of the life of Diaz, that a note upon his death 
should be of interest. This event occurred in the winter of 1876. His friend 
and admirer, Albert Wolff, describes it in this magnificent apostrophe at the 
termination of a sketch of his life : 

“ In 1876 Diaz felt himself seized with a malady of the chest that made all 
work impossible ; he no longer possessed the resources for evoking the benefi- 
cent sun by the magic of his color. Under the foggy sky of Paris he had no 
wish to die ; the painter of the sun desired to have the sun as a witness of his 
last agony. He took flight to Mentone, where, for the moment, he seemed 
revived by the breath of a new life ; it was there that he painted his last pict- 
ures. Death surprised him at work, for it was necessary with this nature, still 
rich in energy even in its final illness, to wrest the brushes from his hands and 
break them. Vanquished at once in body and in spirit, Diaz made no further 
resistance : without work, life had no seductions for him. From his bed of 
anguish, through the open window, he saw the landscape swimming in sun- 
light, and the great enchanter died, contemplating, for the last time, the star 
which had marshalled him to duty and to glory.” 




No. 35 


“The Little Farm” 

8 X io% 

Cattle are drinking at a little pool which occupies the centre of 
the foreground. Trees dapple the water with shade, and in the 
middle ground a portion of the buildings of a farm is seen. The 
distance is marked in alternations of breezy light and shadow, under 
a sky in which roll fleecy masses of cloud. The time is midsummer 
and the hour midday. 

It was the sale of bis first Salon picture to the Due de Nemours that laid the 
foundation for Jules Duprd’s fortune and fame. Albert Wolff tells how, years 
after, when the duke had been long - in political exile, till a turn in politics 
opened France to him again, Dupre called on him to pay his respects upon 
his arrival in Paris. The gallant young artist and the gallant young aristo- 
crat of half a lifetime before faced each other, two fine, white-maned, time- 
scared old men, to whom fortune, with all her caprices, had not been altogether 
unkind. “ Monseigneur,” said the painter, “ I have not forgotten that it was 
your Royal Highness who first made me an artist by encouraging me to be 
one.” “ And I have your picture yet,” replied the prince. “ Come, let us look 
at it ; ” and with the painter’s arm in his he conducted him to the salon of the 
duchess, where hung the picture of that almost forgotten exhibition, still elo- 
quent in its freshness and power of nature of the truth of the art that had 
created it. Dupre studied it for an instant in silence. The duke pressed his 
arm gently. “ Your art, my friend,” he said, “ is more fortunate than you or I. 
It does not grow old.” 



No. 36 


“The Farm, Sunset 

8 X 11 

From the foreground a hill slopes upward to the middle plane, 
where its crest is crowned with the rambling structures of a farm 
shaded by trees. Over the brow of the hill, beyond the unseen low- 
land, a line of distant hills marks the horizon against a sky sodden 
with rain and inflamed with the lurid light of an angry sunset. The 
light of the sky reflects sullenly in a pool in the foreground, and the 

n leaden vapors across the fad- 

The fierce battle for recognition, his repeated and deliberately unjust rejec- 
tions at the Salon, and his long contest with poverty predisposed Rousseau to a 
frame of mind that would have rendered the works of a less courageous man 
melancholy and despairing in character. In him they aroused the poetical and 
reflective element latent in his bloody. He was never happier than in the face of 
stormy sunsets, or of moonlit nights full of mystery and the vague charm of 
illimitable possibilities. He once wrote to a friend: “I saw a sunset to-night 
like the death of a madman, so full of terribly wild and dreamy forms, impos- 
sible of conception or description. I dare not paint it. I scarcely dare re- 
member it.” Within a decade after he penned these lines, he had solved the 
mystery of the mad sunset he dared not paint. He died insane. 




No. 37 


“ Banks of the Seine ” 

13 X 18 

Perched upon a high bank a windmill rears its picturesque bulk 
against the sky. Near by is a farmhouse. The river divides the 
picture, and the farther bank rises in a high, sandy bluff. Blue 
masses of hills close the horizon in, and the sky, full of the move- 
ment of a coming storm, distributes great masses of shadow from its 
shifting clouds. A number of trading boats and freight barges lend 
life to the river, and moving figures make the shore busy. The com- 

almost panoramic vastness of space, but the 

effect is strikingly concentrated, the coloring rich, and the execution 
forcible to a degree not common even with the artist himself. 

Albert Wolff considered Dupr£ not only one of the greatest landscape paint- 
ers of the new era in France, but their precursor. While he was still painting 
on porcelain at Sfcvres, he was spending his leisure time in the fields with 
sketch-book and pencil, and at eighteen years he had already become a young 
master. Landscape art was sunken in apparently hopeless artificiality when 
Dupre began to paint his pictures directly from nature. The young painter 
recognized the meaningless and worthless character of an art made up by rule 
in the studio, out of little scraps and sketches done from nature, after the 
fashion of the so-styled classical past ; and when it came his turn he began to 
paint not compositions or pictures, but bits of nature seized on the spot, with 
the skies gleaming, the clouds rolling, the waters flashing, the wind sweeping 
over the plains and rustling among the trees. People were at once astonished 
and charmed. They felt the truth he expressed, and accepted it, and the down- 
fall of classical landscape began. 



No. 38 

£mile van marcke 


“At the Pool” 

18 X 22 

In a shallow pool in the foreground some cattle have sought re- 
freshment from the heat of the pasture. They are led by a handsome 
cow, white with red markings, which stands in the middle of the 
composition with its companions grouped behind it. A clump of 
trees shades the pool; in the middle plane cattle are seen grazing in a 
spacious meadow; and the sky is banked with clouds, brilliantly 
lighted against a bright blue sky. The coloring is fresh, and the 
treatment broad and vigorous. In composition and execution the 

picture is one of the most charact * "c of f 'st’s works. 

is one of the most charact ‘‘c of 1' 

Marcke came into an arti: 

^ll * rJfr 

A native of Sevres and a pupil of Troyon, Van Marcke 

A native of Sevres and a pupil of Troyon, Van ivlarcke came into an artistic 

heritage upon his birth. His father was a landscape painter of merit, and his 
mother a painter of flowers of a talent sufficiently pronounced to secure her a 
Salon medal. An early marriage with the daughter of a chemist attached to 
the Sevres factories condemned him to nine years’ servitude as a porcelain 
painter. During this period he attracted the attention of Troyon, who weekly 
visited Sfcvres for a day to see his mother, who resided there. The master 
advised the young porcelain painter to enter upon a more ambitious artistic 
career, and in 1857 Van Marcke exhibited his first picture at the Salon. With 
the death of Troyon, some ten years later, his follower succeeded to his place as 
the first cattle painter of France. His earlier works exhibited to a considerable 
extent the influence of his friend and master, but with the growth of his powers 
came a style of his own. The only traces of Troyon one can discover in the 
Van Marcke of to-day are a certain strength of form and breadth of effect, in 
which the elder painter gloried, but which the younger artist qualifies with an 
art and sentiment of his own, and which render all his work distinctive. 



No. 39 


Strayed from the Hei 

2 6 X 20 

Dispersed by a summer shower, a herd of cows have been sepa- 
rated over their pasturage. The squall is passing away, and the 
rumblings of the thunder have followed the flashes of the lightning 
iiito the wet and purple distance. One of the herd, a fine shapely 
cow, is on the lookout for her companions. She occupies the centre 
of the composition, and presents one of those types of animal life, 
in her shapely symmetry of form and her beauty of markings, that 
the artist studied so fondly and presented so well. The picture is 
ripe and rich in color, and the treatment is indicative of the artist’s 
best period. It was one of the works which he preserved as most 
representative of himself until his death, and was purchased at that 
time from his studio. 

No stronger or sturdier figure has existed in French art than Constant 
Troyon. Born in 1810, the son of a porcelain painter, who wished him to con- 
tinue the family trade, Troyon early broke away from irksome artificial labor 
in the Sfcvres factory, and went to nature for inspiration and the lessons of 
truth in art. While by no means a slavish realist, he was ever an interpreter 
of nature whose eye did not lose sight of his originals. His motives were 
always picturesque, his effects generally magnificent in vastness and power, 
his color fine, soberly rich and strong in harmonies which no false note ever 
jarred, and his style never lacked the distinction of a master secure in his 
knowledge and resources. Philip Gilbert Hamerton says truly of him that 
“he had a more poetical mind than any other artist of the same class, and the 
poetry of the fields has never been more feelingly interpreted than by him,” 
and the “ Dictionnaire Larousse ” justly accords him an eternal place among the 
masters of the genre. 



No. 40 

d cro 

iT /' 



“ The Approaching Storm ” 

23 X * 33X 

The threatening weather has warned the grazing herd to assemble 
in the meadow, and they are now coming together. The sky, black- 
ened with heavy banks of storm-clouds, is made the more sinister 
by the single streak of almost livid light left visible in it over the 
horizon. The intense darkness of a midsummer tempest shadows 
the earth, and in the deathlike calm that precedes the storm, nature 
awaits, shuddering, the bursting of the blast and the rending asun- 
der of the clouds laden with waterspouts. 

The lowlands of New Jersey, in the vicinity of New York City, have been 
more extensively favored by the landscape painter than by the painter of 
cattle. Mr. Wiggins was, perhaps, the pioneer in his walk of art to explore 
this fertile field of artistic suggestion and inspiration. The character of the 
scenery is individual as well as picturesque, and the variations of weather to 
which the district is subject lend it an additional charm to the artist. Every 
mood of nature may be studied in the meadows of the Hackensack, alternately 
made brilliant by sunlight and gloomed by sudden showers, basking in mid- 
summer haze to-day and swept to-morrow by storms as brief in duration as 
they are sudden in their approach. These contrasts invest the subjects which 
the artist discovers with a certain dramatic quality which adds appreciably to 
their power and interest. It is not alone nature that is presented to his eye, 
but nature endowed with moods and caprices of her own, which furnish him 
with the foundation for works in which action and expression play an impor- 
tant part. 




No. 41 


/ Cj 

“ The Forest Road ” 

=7 * 35 

A road leads out of the foreground into the forest, a forest such 
as one reads of in the life of Cartouche, and in the history of the 
“ Bandits of Bondy.” In the middle distance rises a bare and stony 
hillside, upon whose summit a lonely farmhouse is seen. A wan 
gray light illuminates the sky, piled up with clouds which darken 
over the horizon. A pallid gleam lights up the hillside. The fore- 
ground is in shadow, which, in the forest itself, deepens into posi- 
tive gloom, fit atmosphere for the lurking footpad and the brigand, 
ambushed for the passing traveller, with his blunderbuss at full cock 

and murder and rapine in his heart. 

The widow of Michel, when she supplied Sensier with the facts upon which 
he based his biography of her husband, related to him one curious incident. 
Early in his career, Michel made the acquaintance of the Baron d'lvry, a very 
wealthy man and a passionate amateur of painting. Unfortunately the Baron's 
skill was not equal to his ambition, and on several occasions Michel added a 
touch to his pictures here and there to improve them. The Baron was 
charmed and proposed a partnership to him, in virtue of which Michel was to 
touch up his efforts at a fixed fee. This curious arrangement lasted for some 
years, during which Michel visited the house in secret and worked with his 
patron in a locked and guarded room. The Baron passed the retouched pict- 
ures off as his own works, and as he purchased everything that Michel fin- 
ished on his own account as well, it is not unlikely that he may have enjoyed 
quite a reputation as an artist among his friends. But he was a generous pay- 
master and a sincere admirer of the painter. The Baron’s ambition seems to 
have been to monopolize all of Michel’s work ; and even when the State wished 
to purchase examples of it they were not available, as they had passed directly 
from the artist’s easel to his patron’s house. 



N °' 42 6 1 -I S' 


“ A Change of Base ” 

30 X 36 

An episode of that immortal siege of Paris out of which Fecnch- 
men continue to extract artistic souvenirs of the glory of heroic de- 
feat. A detachment of gardes mobiles have been driven in from 
work on the trenches at one point of the fortifications, and are exe- 
cuting a movement upon another base of defence. The excitement 
of the raw soldier shows itself in their ranks, and is in strong con- 
trast to the disciplined steadiness and coolness of the regulars who 
form part of the main body. Artillery firing is seen in the distance, 
and here and there the ranks are broken by the fall of dead and 
wounded men. 

Medard is one of the rare Frenchmen who have had the courage to paint war 
as anything but a national triumph of conquest. One of his most successful 
pictures was a “ Retreat,” showing a routed French army endeavoring to save 
its artillery over roads deep with snow and mire, with a multitude of sanguin- 
ary and realistic details. Medard's preference is for compositions comprising 
large bodies of troops and involving important strategic movements. He has 
studied the science of war as well as the art of painting war, and handles his 
battalions with military as well as picturesque skill. His personal experience 
in the service has thoroughly equipped him for his task, and many of his com- 
positions are based on studies made by him during the annual reviews with 
which the French army is kept in military practice and perfected in discipline 
and precision. Accurate and painstaking in detail, his pictures have already 
taken high rank with his compatriots as permanent records of the stirring 
times which so completely revolutionized France in politics and spirit. 




No. 43 


L 7 l & “ The Last Defence ” 

3SX * 46 

It is the final stand of the forlorn hope. The army is in retreat. 
Over roads where the mire is reddened with blood, the long trains of 
ambulances heavy with mangled burdens, the lumbering artillery, 
the color guard closing around a few tattered flags like the Spartan 
legion at Thermopylae, press through the gathering night, saved only 
from the horrors of a rout by their confidence in that thin line of 
steel that falls back only step by step between them and the pursuing 
foe, fighting to the death behind burning cottages and broken walls 
and in the ditches of abandoned and ruined farms, giving its own life 
up that the lives of many may be saved for another cast of the deadly 
dice of war. It is one of the heroic horrors of hopeless self-sacri- 
fice that M. Bcauquesne paints in this episode of thrilling anticipa- 
tion, which in another moment will be a whirling chaos of flame and 
blood and death. 

Bcauquesne belongs to the little army of military specialists in art whom the 
Franco-Prussian war brought into existence. The conscription and the vol- 
unteer service filled the ranks with art students and with painters who had 
already taken their degrees. There was, indeed, an artistic legion enrolled for 
service in the defence of Paris. At the end of the war the experiences of 
the French artists in the field immediately began to reveal themselves in the 
exhibitions. Bcauquesne was one of the leaders In what may be called epi- 
sodic battle painting. His pictures arc all incidents of his campaigns, noted 
down at the time in his sketch-book and executed later with a dash and vigor 
which show that the painter’s reminiscences have lost none of their pristine 
fire. They make no pretension to the rigid accuracy of detail that character- 
izes DcNcuville and Detaille, but stand apart as strong, individual impressions 
of a time calculated to impress itself deeply upon any receptive mind. Charac- 
ter, action, and a clear story vividly told arc their main characteristics. 

U r 



No. 44 


“The Two Shepherds” 


37 X 21 

They repose upon the turf at the edge of a little wood, the master 
indulging in a doze while his dog keeps watchful guard upon his 
charges. There is no fear of the sheep going astray under such vigi- 
lant sentryship. The Hock grazes about, content to browse and nibble 
where the fare is good, without ambition to go further afield, although 
the beaten path invites them to an exploration of the mysteries of 
the grove. The foreground is occupied by a pool, which darkens 
under the reflection of a gray sky, portentous of the approach of 
autumn with its shrewd winds and .chilling rains, that will drive flock 
and shepherds under shelter in a few weeks more. 

When, after years of absence from the Salon, Jacquc sent to that of x888 two 
compositions worthy of his best period, the French hailed the occasion almost 
as a national triumph. One enthusiastic publisher promptly purchased the 
right to have his principal composition etched. Both pictures were purchased 
before the Salon was fairly opened. The triumph of the veteran, among his 
hcncoopsand his sheep-stables far away from the noisy town, was as complete 
as triumph could be. The artist seems to have found life happy in his rural 
retreat during his later years. His simple peasant neighbors regard him with 
a cross between reverence for his genius— which they cannot understand -and 
fear of him as a madman because of his practice of collecting worthless things 
for use as models. Once he found a shepherd about to drown a poor old sheep- 
dog that had outlived its usefulness. He purchased the doomed brute, and till 
it died a natural death it was his constant companion and a regular figure in his 
pictures. At another time a peasant was preparing to smash up a broken and 
weather-stained old wheelbarrow for firewood. Jacquc secured it at the price 
of a new one. His studio was an open market for wornout tools and tattered 
blouses and broken sabots. No wonder that the frugal rural mind secs in these 
extravagances the vagaries of a disordered brain. 

6 o 



4i~ r 

No. 45 


The Tempest” 

24 X 26 


It has been a day of showers. The earth is saturated with moist- 
ure, and the ground is puddled and cut into runnels with the rains. 
As the day has declined the weather has grown worse, until it has 
acquired the bluster of one of those tempests that roar their fury 
through the night, wreaking wrecks in the darkness. The huntsman 
and his dog plod wearily homeward after a spoiled day's sport, 
through roads of mire, buffeted by angry gusts from the savage sky. 
Desolation blows across the landscape like a ghost. The gale 
whistles amid the verdure of the young oaks, and wrestles fiercely 
•with the sturdy branches of the veteran stem that guards the road- 
side, and that to-morrow may be prone, one of the first victims of the 
tempest’s wanton wrath. 

Decamps made his public start in art as one of the satirists of the period of 
the Restoration in France, whose famous lithographed caricatures had such 
an influence on the politics of the day. The Greek struggle for independence 
attracted him to the East, but he abandoned patriotism for art when he found 
himself face to face with the picturesque life of Asia-Minor. His first exhibits 
in the Salon of 1831 were of subjects from the Orient, handled so originally, 
and with such vigor of effect and color, that they scored a prodigious success, 
and ranked him at once with the foremost painters of the new school. His 
ambition was to be a great historical painter, however, and while he scored 
successes with his biblical and historical pictures he never touched the stand- 
ard he aspired to. He retired into the country, where he gave himself up to 
the chase and to painting the scenes about him. He cultivated no intimacies, 
and sought the solitude of the forest, with his dogs, at the first threat of a visi- 
tor. The failure of his great dream undoubtedly oppressed him to his tragic 
end, and he died, in spite of his fame and the fortune it brought, a soured and 
misanthropic man. 



No. 46 



“ The Goatherd ” 

19 x 13X 

At the foot of a magnificent old oak tree, sturdy still in spite of 
the blasting assaults of the lightning and the inroads of natural 
decay, a goatherd reposes on the grass while his flock graze about 
him. Although he gives the title to the picture, its interest centres 
in the splendid portrait of the monarch of the forest which forms 
its majestic centre, and which is surely one of the noblest studies 
of a great landmark of nature ever painted. The background is 
in keeping with the old oak tree itself, lonely and wild, full of the 
charm of the remoter forest where nature reigns supreme and man 
finds only incidental tolerance. 

Rousseau was the son of a tailor, and entered upon the study of art with the 
sanction of his parents. He, it is told, secured their consent by secretly pro- 
curing colors and brushes, and painting a view of the village church and 
graveyard of Montmartre, in which district he had begun sketching with the 
pencil as a schoolboy. Rousseau speedily revolted at the stiff and artificial 
style of landscape then alone in vogue, and turning his back on classicism 
went forth to nature as a school. He explored the remoter and more lonely 
and savage sections of France, living for months in the mountains and the 
forests, and making everywhere those close and highly finished studies upon 
which his future style was founded. In the same manner he explored the 
vicinity of Paris for material. Sensier describes him as spending his days 
outside the barriers, sketching, and hurrying home after dark to paint by 
candle-light in his studio. He began to attract attention in the Salon in 1830, 
and one of his first pictures was purchased by the Due d’Orleans for a good 
price. The Government also made a bid for this picture for the National collec- 
tion. The beginning was certainly auspicious for him. But political changes 
affected the personnel of the Salon jury, and filled it with his enemies. The 
silent and thoughtful bachelor married a woman subject to fits of incurable and 



violent derangement. With the insults and injuries of his enemies to goad him 
on the one hand, and the horrors of a perpetual domestic inferno to rack him 
on the other, Rousseau, during the most glorious period of his life, endured the 
torments of a rock-bound Prometheus. He staggered under the burden till 
it bore him down, and died, a paralytic, with an unbalanced mind, while the 
mad wife survived him. 



No. 47 


“ On the Lookout ” 


In a modest public house interior, of the middle of the last century, 
a gentleman stands at his window watching for some passing object 
of interest in the street below. He leans at ease against the angle of 
the wall in which the window is recessed. His right hand is in his 
breeches pocket. His left has just removed a long-stemmed clay 
pipe from his mouth and holds it at the level of his breast. He 
wears a black coat over a red waistcoat rather negligently buttoned, 
red breeches, gray stockings, and black shoes with silver buckles. 
His black hat is on his head, and his shirt of lawn, unadorned 
with lace, shows at the throat and wrists. Behind him is a chair 
from which he has apparently risen in his impatience at the tardi- 
ness of the other party, to the appointment of which he is the first 
upon the scene. 

The man at the window has ever been a favorite subject with Meissonier. 
He has painted him in the costumes of a dozen periods, doing - twenty different 
things, but never, in any sense, as a repetition. The master is not a producer 
of replicas. He frequently essays the exploitation of every side of an idea, 
but if he paints ten “ Smokers ” each is a different smoker, smoking and think- 
ing and looking differently from the others. So it is with his men at the 
window. In the face of one we read cupidity awaiting the settlement of a 
debt; in another passion anticipating desire with fever-flushed face; in another 
the indifferent friend whom a friend has summoned in order to confide his woes 
to him. Such, perhaps, is the gentleman of this picture. Certainly his ex- 
pression is not serious enough for a duelist, or anxious enough for a lover 
whose mistress keeps him tarrying at the tryst. He is simply rath„ - bored. It 
is a bright day outside. Paris is all abroad. What folly for a fellow to dry 
himself up with tobacco smoke when there are pretty faces in the garden of 
the Palais Royal, and witty words being bandied at the club. M. Meissonier 
has the gift of making you think for his heroes, and this, no doubt, is what he 
wishes us to think for this one. 

3 51 rb 



“ The Seamstress ” 

No. 48 

seated on a wicker-bottomed chair. She is sewing, with her face 
turned down upon her work. She wears a gray cloth bodice, with a 
blue cotton apron over a brown dress; a white cap on her head, and a 
white collar at her neck, giving special relief to her face against the 
background. The color is quiet but strong, and the pose of the 
figure is characterized by that modest grace which Millet so well knew 
how to give to the least complete ns well ns the most highly finished 
representation of the female form, however garbed. The expression 
of intentness upon her task, and the suggestion of movement in the 
seamstress’s hands, are extremely characteristic. The picture is a close 
study from life, finished with care. 

The pedigree of this admirable example of the master, at his bent period, is 
given In a letter upon tile back. The picture was purchased from a private 
collection in Paris, In December, 1883, byP. F. Rudcll, an American artist at that 
time prosecuting Ills studies In Europe. Although the Inherent evidences of Its 
authenticity were Indubitable, Mr. Rudcll added tile crown to them by submit- 
ting the picture to Mine. Millet. She recognized it at once, and recalled clearly 
the circumstances under which it had been painted by her husband. 



No. 49 


“ The Haystack ” 

X agX 

^ cj-f 3 o 

They are building up the great haystack, the pride of the farm. 
It lias arisen tier on tier, until now the man who stands upon the 
loaded haywagon must reach his forkful up to a man on a ladder 
before it can be got to those who are levelling and packing the 
towering top. Two wagons keep the stackers supplied. The 
horses, worn out by a hard and long day's toil, doze in their traces 
or nibble a surreptitious mouthful from the stack. The field Is 
nearly bare. But a few more sheaves remain for removal. The 
peaceful country reaches into n remote distance, and behind the stack 
a portion of the farm buildings is seen, all bathed in the glory of a 
golden late afternoon. 

a 70 

The commanding genius of the great Millet Impressed Itself Indelibly upon 
two members of his family. One is his brother, who nfter the death of their 
mother and the breaking up of the family came to live and study with him at 
Darblzon, and who Is still alive. The work of this Millet Is neither strong nor 
original, but It is full of suggestions of his brother's earlier style. Francois 
Millet, tile son, lias advanced much farther. In many features, tile selection of 
subjects and tliclr treatment especially, lie shows the influence of his father's 
art, and certain of Ills peasant figures In pastel present a striking similarity to 
his parent's. It Is In oil that he Is most original and individual, and while lie 
selects rural scenes, animated by figures, he trents them with a sentiment and a 
feeling for color that invest them with a peculiar charm of their own. I11 spite 
of the burden of a great name, tile younger Millet occupies a position of 
marked personal and artistic consideration in France, though it is only of very 
recent years that ills works have begun to find tliclr way to the United States. 


f f i** 



No. 50 


1 The Vanguard ” 

20 x isX 

Hie army is on the move. Through peaceful fields, where the 
harvest has been stacked despite the tumult of war, the vanguard 
advances with a sharp lookout for signs of the enemy. Each man 
clutches his bridle with a hand that is ready to respond to the first 
warning of voice and eye. The horses themselves seem to participate 
in the general spirit of caution and watchfulness. It would require 


WlM. f 

frh: ■ '/ 


but .1 word to transform this battalion, stringing along through the 
plain with the measured movement of a monstrous snake, into a ser- 
ried front of flashing steel, with every heart throbbing for action, and 
every hand armed for the work of death. 

“Dc Neuvllle," says Mr. Henry Bacon in his “Parisian Art ant! Artists,” 
“was first known ns an illustrator, being one of the best in France, and his 
drawings were eagerly sought by publishers, abroad as well as at home. This 
early training gave him such facility of drawing, such readiness of composition, 
that when he entered the wider field of painting, lie had but to add color to an 
almost perfect talent, and stood at once foremost among his competitors.” Dc 
Neuville trusted nothing in his pictures to chance. He used models for every- 
thing. When he went on his summer vacations, his valct-de-chambre and his 
cook accompanied him, dressed as soldiers, and posed between the execution of 
their domestic duties for their master’s use. As an illustration of his closeness 
of observation and study, it is told that while painting his celebrated picture, 
“ Ttlc Last Cartridge," lie caused a running fire of musketry to be discharged 
by his models, in order that he might catch the spirit even of the smoke and fix 
it on his canvas. Dc Neuville was one of the very few men whom Delacroix 
admitted to intimacy in his declining years. His door was open to him when it 
was barred to all others, and the heroic veteran of the days of the French rev- 
olution in art was, to tile last, a guide, counsellor, and friend to the young artist 
of these newer and vastly altered times. 



No. 51 



“ Early Autumn, Forest of Fontainebleau ” 

30 X 26 

I he first light touch of the frost has commenced to invest the for- 
est in the livery of autumn. Among the lingering greens of the 
ripened summer time, the russets of the fall are stealing in. Over- 
head the sky is blue, with the intense blue that is unmarred by 
mists. The forest pool still refreshes the birds that have not yet 
commenced their southward (light, and in the coverts of fern the hare 
and tile woodhen yet find refuge, undisturbed by anticipations of the 
coming snow. The sunlight is still warm and mellow that pours in 
through the opening in the wood, and semis exploring rays among the 
trees, touching their mossy trunks with glints of light, and giving to 
a green or red leaf here and there the flash of an emerald or a ruby. 

When Albert Wolff was introduced to Diaz for the first time, he relates that 
he remarked to the painter that he owned one of his pictures, which he de- 
scribed. Diaz listened witli Interest, and requested permission to call on his 
new acquaintance and examine the work. Next morning he made the visit. 
His host noted that he viewed the picture with repressed emotion. It repre- 
sented a baby asleep in a cradle, and its mother sleeping in a chair beside It, witli 
the sunlight flooding in through an open window. After some moments Diaz 
bluntly asked his host if he would sell the picture. The latter offered to'glve 
it to him. Finally they arranged to exchange It for another, and Dinz said : 
“ Y<1U have Riven me greater pleasure than I can describe. This woman and 
child arc my family. I painted them from nature, ns they are, one summer 
afternoon. For years the picture was part of the furniture of my bedroom, 
but one day, when I was desperately hard up, a dealer who came along look- 
ing for bargains offered me one hundred and fifty francs for it. I offered him 
anything else, but lie had act his mind on just tills picture, and I finally sold It 
to him. It was like carrying off a part of my heart, but hunger knows no sen- 
timent. From that day till this I had not seen or heard of it, and I certainly 
never expected to recover It again. Now I have recovered a part of my youth 
with it, and you are the good genius who restores it to me.” 

Ilf TV 



No. 52 


“The Hour of Rest and Peace” 

The last gleam lingers in a sky over which the clouds that carry- 
evening showers drift in rifted masses. The landscape is veiled in 
the transparent shadow of early twilight. The fields are dim, and the 
vapor rising from the streams commences to obscure without oblit- 
erating the distant hills. The village road, passing across the fore- 
ground, loses itself among the houses and gardens in the middle 
plane. Over the fields, in one of the cottages, an evening lamp 
already gleams in the window. It is the hour of rest and peace, not 
only in its title, but also in the exquisite tenderness of touch and 
poetry of sentiment with which the artist has fixed it on the canvas. 

Cazin, of all the landscape painters of the day, is the one who approaches 
Corot nearest in spirit. Their styles are entirely different, but they see nature 
with the same eyes, and the differences in their individual renditions of her are 
largely a matter of temperament. Cazin’s touch possesses a certain bold 
frankness and decision that give force and vigor to his most delicate experi- 
ments in color, and although his taste inclines him to experiment upon well- 
defined lines it is to be noted that his variety in the field he has made his own 
is as infinite as that of nature herself. It is his faculty of comprehending and 
his power of translating the subtlest inflections of color and atmosphere and 
the finest variations of light and shade, that invests his simplest subjects with 
the importance of the most ambitious pictures that he paints. They arc all 
notes scored from the great harmonies of nature, and in none of them docs the 
artist strike a discord. Cazin, atone time claimed with rapture by the impres- 
sionists, is in fact the leader in the higher realism of landscape painting of our 
time, and is as yet but at the threshold of his triumphs. 



No. 53 

1 T<j s > 


“The Road to the Sea” 

26 X 42 


It is morning. Over the crown of a hillside, down which a road 
descends, the roofs of village houses are seen. The hillside, the 
road, the broken ground, brushwood, and trees, which constitute the 
foreground, are all in shadow, but full of variety and form, delicately 
defined and suggested, and constituting a harmonious and finely 
balanced mass of subdued color against the luminous sky. The 
figure of a fisherman in the road lends the one needed point of 
vitality to the picture, which is a remarkably perfect example of 
natural composition, rendered by the artist with the greatest frank- 
ness and the finest appreciation of its subtleties. The color and 
handling indicate the work to be a product of Corot’s strongest 

It is a part of the legend of Corot’s life that he was sixty years of age before 
he sold a picture. He is said to have remarked to a friend on this occasion, 
“I have sold a picture at last. It is a pity. It breaks my collection." His 
expansive benevolence, however, gave him ample use for the money, when the 
demand for his works did begin. He had, upon the death of his father, come 
into an income of 4o,ooofrancs. The principal would revert, upon hisdeath,to 
relations. He scarcely touched even the interest, allowing it to accumulate for 
the benefit of his heirs. He lived in inexpensive lodgings, and disbursed the 
enormous sums his pictures brought him in among his needy friends and 
brother artists. When Daumier was about to be turned out of the house in 
which he had lived many years, Corot purchased it and presented it to him. 
His friend accepted the gift, saying simply, “ You arc the only man I esteem 
sufficiently to be able to accept such a favor from without a blush.” A short 
time before his death, he closed a very large transaction with a wealthy mer- 
chant. When the latter settled for the pictures he had purchased, Corot passed 

3 5 ^ ^ 



him back ten notes of a thousand francs each. “ Take care of these for me,” 
he said, “ and hand one every year for ten years to the widow of my friend 
Millet. On another occasion a painter friend called on him to borrow 5,000 
francs. Corot was in a bad humor that morning, and replied that he had not 
the money. The moment the dejected man left the room, Corot’s Conscience 
smote him. He stripped off his blouse, gathered up from his drawer the 
required sum, and hurried after his friend to beg his pardon and force the loan 
upon him. This drawer of Corot’s was famous. In it, mixed with sketchbooks, 
letters, squeezed-out paint tubes, and the like, was sometimes as much as 
100,000 francs— the sinking fund on which the master drew for his benevolences. 


7 1 

No. 54 


2 r ° 

“ A Nook of the Seine ” 

26 X 36 

The foreground is occupied by one of those placid and almost tide- 
less backwaters of the Seine, in which the water-lily carpets the flood 
and walls of rushes provide coverts for the crane. Against the sky 
quivering with light, the delicate outlines of the alders and willows 
build up in the middle plane a picturesque mass of verdure, whose 
note of color, indefinite yet strong, accentuates the luminosity of the 
atmosphere itself. The picture is another solution of the problem 
which the artist continually sets himself — the problem of painting 
light at its highest pitch, penetrating, dazzling, and vibrant with the 
pulsations of life. 

d -To 

Lambinet, a native of the country of the Seine, will pass into the history of 
art as its chief historian. Although he has found subjects at a distance, the 
greater number of his works are transcripts of the nature amid which he was 
born. It has been said of him, as was said of Daubigny in regard to the Oise, 
that he has made the Seine immortal, so that if its channel should ever run dry 
it would still exist and be perpetuated by his art. The subjects selected by 
Lambinet are invariably simple in character. His pictures are, in fact, succes- 
sive experiments in the painting of light, keyed to its highest pitch, as it might 
be in rivalry with nature herself. No essay is too daring for him, and his in- 
variable success with these has presented the world with a succession of the 
most brilliant canvases, in which the modesty of the composition and the sim- 
ple adjustment of the color scheme are lost in the radiant brightness with 
which he endows the picture, as if he had mastered the secret of the sun and 
fixed it on his palette. 





No. 55 


“ The Time of Apple Blossoms ” 

33 x 62 

The orchard is in blossom, and all the landscape is green with the 
refreshing verdure of young spring. The branches of the willows 
have the delicate contour of plumes, and the turf shows the varying 
shade and color of green plush in the soft and hazy light. Never so 
happy as in painting the re-awakening of the year at its most beautiful 
period, the master painter of the Oise is at home here in one of the 
most felicitously achieved of his favorite subjects. It is a true idyll 
of the springtime, instinct with color, light, the richness of mounting 
sap in branch and grass, the fatness of the generous earth, renewing 
itself under a breeze that has the refreshing stimulus of new wine. 

It was Thfophile Gautier, in his “ Ab&edaire du Salon de 1861,” who charged 
Daubigny with being too readily content to fix his first impression upon can- 
vas, and permit it to pass as complete. This was, to a certain extent, a just crit- 
icism, but Gautier did not give the painter credit for the enormous vitality and 
power, the quality of suggested completeness, that he could put in the slightest 
impression, no matter how small its size. Nor did he score to his credit those 
great canvases which, when the subject especially appealed to him, he fondled 
with so loving and patient a hand. The river Oise and its banks were Dau- 
bigny's chief sketching fields. He kept a boat fitted up for long excursions, 
with food and wine and cooking apparatus, and in it he drifted, worked, ate, 
and even slept, as long as the season permitted it. “ The Time of Apple Blos- 
soms ” is one of his subjects of the Oise country, which, painted at a time when 
his smaller works were popular, he used to say he did for the satisfaction of 
doing them His ambition, indeed, was “to paint pictures that would not 
sell,” and he thus, unconsciously, produced his greatest and most important 
works. His devotion to his art is said to have been the direct cause of Dau- 
bigny’s death. Living and working so much upon the water, often in seasons 
of rain and fog, he contracted a rheumatism which rendered his end one of 
cruel agony. His last thought, according to his biographers, was of his art, 
and he died with the name of his beloved friend Corot on his lips. 




^7- o o o 

30 x 56 

A sedate white cow, grazing amid the salt grass pastures of Long 
Island, has halted in a rushy pool among the sand-dunes to survey 
her surroundings. The poise of the animal and her expression of 
attention are admirably conveyed. The sea-breeze stirs the clouded 
sky and blows the bending reeds. The sunlight has a sharp gleam, 
and the water ripples under the breath of the wind. A sense of 
wide space and free, fresh air characterizes the whole composition 
and makes it vivid in its realistic strength. 

Born in Turners, N. Y., in 1848, Carleton Wiggins was, until recently, iden- 
tified with the small but able art colony of Brooklyn, where he had his studio. 
He acquired his first experiences in art as a student of the National Academy 
of Design, and later as a pupil of H. Carmienke, but his strongest develop- 
ment is the result of some years of observation, study, and experiment in 
Europe. He first exhibited at the National Academy in 1870, and in 1881 his 
first exhibit at the Paris Salon secured him the indorsement of French critics. 
While essentially a painter of cattle, Mr. Wiggins is also known as the author 
of landscapes of rare quality and beauty of color and of feeling. He stands 
at the head of the younger school of cattle painters in America. 


No. 56 


“Among the Rushes” 

1 + 1 % 03 



No. 57 



“ The Mussel Gathere 

50 X 32 

Interrupted in the mussel harvest by the rising of the tide, a 
sturdy and comely fishermaiden has turned her face landward, and 
measures the wide beach with long, strong strides, bearing her well- 
filled basket as lightly as a child might carry a toy. The coast 
reaches away behind her in a long perspective of shore and sand ; 
the sea is gray and full of movement under the gray and windy sky, 
while the screaming gulls, cleaving the air in clamorous and uneasy 
flight, seem to predict the rising gale which will follow the rising 

Hagborg is one of those men of the North of whom Salnte-Beuve once wrote: 
“ They sing to us, with their brushes or their pens as it may be, tender and 
simple romances of lives which wrest contentment from the surging sea and 
the swirling snow.*' A certain seriousness and gravity dominate the spirit of 
Hagborg, but never predispose him to melancholy or gloom. Life is serious 
in his eyes, but full of brightness too. Although born in Sweden and grounded 
in his art at the National School of the Arts, he really graduated in Paris, under 
Palmaroli, so that some of the lighter and airier elements of the genius of the 
South are grafted on his Northern temperament. These show themselves in his 
method of treating his subjects, of which “The Mussel Gatherer “is a superior 
example. In choice of subjects themselves he remains faithful to his father- 



No. 58 


“ Montmartre ” 

31 X50 

Lj If- 3 cro 

From an elevation which provides an irregular line of foreground, 
we look down upon the plain of Montmartre as it was at the com- 
mencement of the century. Over the vast expanse of what is now 
one of the most populous parts of Paris and its suburbs, the lights 
and shadows of the storm are at sinister play. Overhead the clouds / C) ^ <2 

are blown in tormented masses by the blast. The wan light of the 
tempestuous day gives ghastly prominence to a little village on the 
plain, with its few houses and its windmills, which latter were Mont- 
martre's trademark in the past. 

Montmartre was Michel’s favorite and chosen sketching ground. Every 
afternoon, at a fixed hour, he would put up the shutters of his little curiosity 
shop in Paris, and in company with his wife post off to the region of windmills 
and quarries, to paint. Summer or winter, foul weather or fair, the curious pair 
were still to be seen somewhere about the district, and the titanic energy with 
which Michel worked resulted in the production of a great number of pictures 
of Montmartre, which have now become priceless. Few equalled in size or 
importance this example, which is of unusual dimensions and care of execution 
for him. Michel, although he began life as a painter, and prospered latterly 
made no pretence of living by his art. He accumulated a little money at a petty 
trade, which he had established for his son, who died, when the father contin- 
ued the business, and put his pictures away as he painted them. He died in 
contented and comfortable poverty in 1843, in his own house, just after the 
movement in art which he had begun had been taken up by the greater masters 
Corot, Rousseau, Diaz, Daubigny, and Millet. 




No. 59 


“ A Dutch Landscape 


34 X 43 


This is a landscape from the district of Drenthe, where Hobbema 
found the material for most of his pictures of this character, while 
Gueldres supplied him with those bustling streams with primitive 
water mills that constitute the other variation of his art. Here 
e gives us a road, entering into a scattered oak wood which occu- 
pies the foreground. In the middle distance some trees, the outriders 
of the forest, are seen, and the distance is a great champaign, made 
joyous by the golden rays of the sun which the painter loved so well 
to depict. A wagon drawn by two horses and filled with peasants 
is entering the wood, and at the roadside some woodcutters pause at 
their work to give the passers-by good cheer. The picture is a re- 
markably strong and superior example of the master, and in match- 
less condition of preservation. 

Of Hobbema’s personal history, little is known. He was born in Amsterdam, 
was a friend of Jacob van Ruysdacl, and like Ruysdacl was almost ignored by 
his contemporaries. He devoted himself altogether to copying the nature that 
surrounded him, and although endowed with less taste and less poetic feeling 
than Ruysdael he copied nature more closely. M. Henri Havard says, 41 Whilst 
the former produces his effects by mysterious undefined light and shade, the 
latter, on the contrary, illumes his pictures with brilliant sunlight, which, find- 
ing its way through the foliage of his great trees, gives an idea of content- 
ment and joy. Whilst the one chooses the twilight hours when nature is 
shrouded with a kind of veil, the other prefers the setting sun in all its bril- 
liancy, warming the grassland by its rays and making it golden with its reflec- 
tion. As regards excellence of execution, these two painters may be classed 
together ; and if the brush of Ruysdacl appears to be softer and more supple, 
thatxjf Hobbema is more decided in coloring and more robust in execution.” 



It was not until 1739, a century after his birth, that Hobbema’s name began 
to figure in the sales catalogues. His works are rare. The museums of Berlin, 
Brussels, and Amsterdam arc almost the only ones on the continent which pos- 
sess any of them. There is but one in the Pinakothck at Munich. The best 
examples, according to M. Havard, arc to be found in private collections and 
particularly in England, the Dulwich gallery owning an important work. 
“High as their merit is,” says this authority, “it is quite as much to their 
scarcity that we may attribute the high prices at which they are valued at the 
present day.” 



Press of J. J. Little & Co.. 
Astor Place, New York.