Beneath the stars and summer moon A pair of wedded lovers walk, Upon the stars and summer moon They turn their happy eyes, and talk.

EDITH.

"Those stars, that moon, for me they shine With lovely, but no startling light; My joy is much, but not as thine, A joy that fills the pulse, like fright."

ALFRED.

"My love, a darken'd conscience clothes The world in sackcloth; and, I fear, The stain of life this new heart loathes, Still clouds my sight; but thine is clear.

"True vision is no startling boon To one in whom it always lies; But if true sight of stars and moon Were strange to thee, it would surprise.

"Disease it is and dearth in me Which thou believest genius, wealth; And that imagined want in thee Is riches and abundant health.

"O, little merit I my bride!

And therefore will I love her more; Renewing, by her gentle side, Lost worth: let this thy smile restore!"

EDITH.

"Ah, love! we both, with longing deep, Love words and actions kind, which are More good for life than bread or sleep, More beautiful than Moon or Star."

On the Mechanism of a Historical Picture

Part I. The Design

In tracing these memoranda of the course to be pursued in producing a work of the cla.s.s commonly denominated "Historic Art," we have no wish to set ourselves in opposition to the practice of other artists.

We are quite willing to believe that there may be various methods of working out the same idea, each productive of a satisfactory result.

Should any one therefore regard it as a subject for controversy, we would only reply that, if different, or to them better, methods be adopted by other painters, no less certain is it that there are numbers who at the onset of their career have not the least knowledge of any one of these methods; and that it is chiefly for such that these notes have been penned. In short, that to all about to paint their first picture we address ourselves.

The first advice that should be given, on painting a historical picture, ought undoubtedly to be on the choosing of a fit subject; but, the object of the present paper being purely practical, it would ill commence with a question which would entail a dissertation bearing upon the most abstract properties of Art. Should it afterwards appear necessary, we may append such a paper to the last number of these articles; but, for the present, we will content ourselves with beginning where the student may first encounter a difficulty in giving body to his idea.

The first care of the painter, after having selected his subject, should be to make himself thoroughly acquainted with the character of the times, and habits of the people, which he is about to represent; and next, to consult the proper authorities for his costume, and such objects as may fill his canva.s.s; as the architecture, furniture, vegetation or landscape, or accessories, necessary to the elucidation of the subject. By not pursuing this course, the artist is in danger of imagining an effect, or disposition of lines, incompatible with the costume of his figures, or objects surrounding them; and it will be found always a most difficult thing to efface an idea that has once taken possession of the mind. Besides which, it is impossible to conceive a design with any truth, not being acquainted with the character, habits, and appearance, of the people represented.

Having, by such means, secured the materials of which his work must be composed, the artist must endeavour, as far as lies in his power, to embody the picture in his thoughts, before having recourse to paper. He must patiently consider his subject, revolving in his mind every means that may a.s.sist the clear development of the story: giving the most prominent places to the most important actors, and carefully rejecting incidents that cannot be expressed by pantomimic art without the aid of text. He must also, in this mental forerunner of his picture, arrange the "grouping" of his figures,--that is, the disposing of them in such agreeable cl.u.s.ters or situations on his canva.s.s as may be compatible with the dramatic truth of the whole, (technically called the lines of a composition.) He must also consider the color, and disposition of light and dark ma.s.ses in his design, so as to call attention to the princ.i.p.al objects, (technically called the "effect.") Thus, to recapitulate, the painter, in his first conception of his picture, will have to combine three qualities, each subordinate to the other;--the intellectual, or clear development, dramatic truth, and sentiment, of his incident;--the construction, or disposition of his groups and lines, as most conducive to clearness, effect, and harmony;--and the chromatic, or arrangement of colors, light and shade, most suitable to impress and attract the beholder.{6}

{6} Many artists, chiefly of the schools not colorists, are in the habit of making their designs in outline, leaving the colors and light and shade to be thought of afterwards. This plan may offer facilities; but we doubt if it be possible to arrange satisfactorily the colors of a work which has been designed in outline without consideration of these qualities.

Having settled these points in his mind, as definitely as his faculties will allow of, the student will take pencil and paper, and sketch roughly each separate figure in his composition, studying his own acting, (in a looking-gla.s.s) or else that of any friend he may have of an artistic or poetic temperament, but not employing for the purpose the ordinary paid models.--It will be always found that they are stiff and feelingless, and, as such, tend to curb the vivacity of a first conception, so much so that the artist may believe an action impossible, through the want of comprehension of the model, which to himself or a friend might prove easy.

Here let the artist spare neither time nor labor, but exert himself beyond his natural energies, seeking to enter into the character of each actor, studying them one after the other, limb for limb, hand for hand, finger for finger, noting each inflection of joint, or tension of sinew, searching for dramatic truth internally in himself, and in all external nature, shunning affectation and exaggeration, and striving after pathos, and purity of feeling, with patient endeavor and utter simplicity of heart. For on this labor must depend the success of his work with the public. Artists may praise his color, drawing, or manipulation, his chiaroscuro, or his lines; but the clearness, truth, and sentiment, of his work will alone affect the many.

The action of each figure being now determinate, the next step will be to make a sketch in oil of the whole design; after which, living models, as like the artist's conception as can be found, must be procured, to make outlines of the nude of each figure, and again sketches of the same, draped in the proper costume.{7}

{7} There is always difficulty attending this very necessary portion of the study of the picture; because, if the dresses be borrowed or hired, at this period they may be only wanted for a few hours, and perhaps not required again for some months to paint into the picture.--Again, if the costume have to be made, and of expensive material, the portion of it seen may be sufficient to pin on to a lay figure, without having the whole made, which could not be worn by the living model. However, with all the larger or loose draperies, it is very necessary to sketch them first from the living model.

From these studies, the painter will prepare a second sketch, in outline, of the whole, being, in fact, a small and hasty cartoon.{8}

{8} Should the picture be of small dimensions, it will be found more expeditious to make an outline of it on paper the full size, which can be traced on to the canva.s.s, keeping the latter clean. On the contrary, should the painting be large, the outline had better be made small, and squared to transfer to the canva.s.s.

In this last preparation of the design, the chief care of the student will be the grouping, and the correct size and place of each figure; also the perspective of the architecture and ground plan will now have to be settled; a task requiring much patient calculation, and usually proving a source of disgust to the novice not endowed with much perseverance. But, above all, the quality to be most studied in this outline design will be the _proportion_ of the whole work.

And with a few remarks on this quality, which might appropriately be termed "constructive beauty in art," we will close this paper on "the Design," as belonging more properly to the mechanical than the intellectual side of art; as being rather the slow growth of experience than the spontaneous impulse of the artistic temperament.

It is a feature in art rather apt to savor of conventionality to such as would look on nature as the only school of art, who would consider it but as the exponent of thought and feeling; while, on the other hand, we fear it likely to be studied to little effect by such as receive with indiscriminate and phlegmatic avidity all that is handed down to them in the shape of experience or time-sanctioned rule. But plastic art claims not merely our sympathy, in its highest capacity to emit thought and sentiment; but as form, colour, light, life, and beauty; and who shall settle the claims between thought and beauty?

But art has beauties of its own, which neither impair nor contradict the beauties of nature; but which are not of nature, and yet are, inasmuch as art itself is but part of nature: and of such, the beauties of the nature of art, is the feeling for constructive beauty. It interferes not with truth or sentiment; it is not the cause of unlikely order and improbable symmetry; it is not bounded by line or rule, nor taught by theory. It is a feeling for proportion, ever varying from an infinity of conflicting causes, that balances the picture as it balances the Gothic edifice; it is a germ planted in the breast of the artist, that gradually expands by cultivation.

To those who would foster its development the only rule we could offer would be never to leave a design, while they imagine they could alter for the better (subordinate to the truth of nature) the place of a single figure or group, or the direction of a line.

And to such as think it beneath their care we can only say that they neglect a refinement, of which every great master takes advantage to increase the fascination which beauty, feeling, or pa.s.sion, exercises over the mult.i.tude.

A Testimony

I said of laughter: It is vain;-- Of mirth I said: What profits it?-- Therefore I found a book, and writ Therein, how ease and also pain, How health and sickness, every one Is vanity beneath the sun.

Man walks in a vain shadow; he Disquieteth himself in vain.

The things that were shall be again.

The rivers do not fill the sea, But turn back to their secret source: The winds, too, turn upon their course.

Our treasures, moth and rust corrupt; Or thieves break through and steal; or they Make themselves wings and fly away.

One man made merry as he supp'd, Nor guessed how when that night grew dim, His soul would be required of him.

We build our houses on the sand Comely withoutside, and within; But when the winds and rains begin To beat on them, they cannot stand; They perish, quickly overthrown, Loose at the hidden bas.e.m.e.nt stone.

All things are vanity, I said: Yea vanity of vanities.

The rich man dies; and the poor dies: The worm feeds sweetly on the dead.

Whatso thou lackest, keep this trust:-- All in the end shall have but dust.

The one inheritance, which best And worst alike shall find and share.

The wicked cease from troubling there, And there the weary are at rest; There all the wisdom of the wise Is vanity of vanities.

Man flourishes as a green leaf, And as a leaf doth pa.s.s away; Or, as a shade that cannot stay, And leaves no track, his course is brief: Yet doth man hope and fear and plan Till he is dead:--oh foolish man!

Our eyes cannot be satisfied With seeing; nor our ears be fill'd With hearing: yet we plant and build, And buy, and make our borders wide: We gather wealth, we gather care, But know not who shall be our heir.

Why should we hasten to arise So early, and so late take rest?

Our labor is not good; our best Hopes fade; our heart is stayed on lies: Verily, we sow wind; and we Shall reap the whirlwind, verily.

He who hath little shall not lack; He who hath plenty shall decay: Our fathers went; we pa.s.s away; Our children follow on our track: So generations fail, and so They are renewed, and come and go.

The earth is fattened with our dead; She swallows more and doth not cease; Therefore her wine and oil increase And her sheaves are not numbered; Therefore her plants are green, and all Her pleasant trees l.u.s.ty and tall.

Therefore the maidens cease to sing, And the young men are very sad; Therefore the sowing is not glad, And weary is the harvesting.

Of high and low, of great and small, Vanity is the lot of all.