In their pictures of the Madonna, the old painters tried to express their highest ideals of womanhood. The mother Mary represented to them all that is strongest and sweetest in a woman's character. So this Madonna by Van Dyck is a gracious and queenly figure modelled upon the stately Virgin of t.i.tian.

The linear composition of the picture is carefully planned; the basis is the pyramidal form. From the top of the Virgin's head diverge the two oblique lines which enclose the diagram. The mantle fluttering behind the mother's shoulder balances the part of St. Anthony's tunic which lies on the ground.

We may well believe that the painter took especial pleasure in working on this picture, because he himself bore the name of the good St.

Anthony.

V

MADAME ANDREAS COLYNS DE NOLE AND HER DAUGHTER

In the time of Van Dyck there was living in Antwerp a family of ancient lineage who bore the name of Colyns de Nole. For three centuries there had been sculptors among the men of this name. The talent had been handed down from father to son through the several generations, and sometimes there were two or three of the family working together in the art. The old churches of Antwerp contained some fine specimens of their work.[4]

[Footnote 4: A full account of the several members of this family is given in the _Biographie Nationale_, published by the Royal Belgian Academy of Science, Literature and Fine Arts, Brussels, 1899.]

Andreas Colyns de Nole was of nearly the same age as Van Dyck, and a worthy representative of his famous family. He was the sculptor of the beautiful monument of Henry van Balen in the Church of St. Jacques, and of a Pieta in the Church of Notre Dame. The sculptor and the painter became good friends, and it was a natural consequence that the latter should paint the portrait of his friend and of his family. He made two companion pictures, one of the sculptor, and the other of his wife and the little daughter.

The lady is seated in an arm-chair, letting her placid glance stray across the room. There is a little touch of weariness in her manner, as if she were glad to sit down for a few moments' rest. She is a busy housewife and mother, with many domestic duties on her mind. In her strong, capable way she has long borne the family burdens. The face is full of motherly sweetness; the expression is patient and serene, as of one well schooled in the lessons of life. This is indeed the "virtuous woman" whose price the wise man of old set "far above rubies."

"She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her."[5]

[Footnote 5: Proverbs, chapter x.x.x., verses 26-28.]

The child is as like the mother as possible in features. Her round face is quaintly framed in a close lace-trimmed cap. She is a shy little creature, and is rather afraid of the strange painter. So she keeps as far as possible in the shelter of her mother's big sleeve.

The hour drags wearily by. The studio is a dull place, and the sunshine without very inviting. The child pulls impatiently at her mother's arm, and, as the painter speaks, she looks timidly around, wondering what he will think of such a rude little girl.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MADAME ANDREAS COLYNS DE NOLE AND HER DAUGHTER _Munich Gallery_]

The artist is secretly much amused by the small young lady's behavior. He has a shrewd insight into children's thoughts, and sympathizes with their moods. He does not try to persuade her to sit for him, but he catches her pose just as she stands here. The mother, too, is wise enough to let the child alone, and the picture is made as we see it.

As we compare it with the former ill.u.s.tration of the man with his little boy, it is amusing to see the contrast between the two children. The boy has such a grave sense of responsibility, while the girl cares nothing for the portrait. She would doubtless think the boy very tiresome.

We are apt to think of the children of past centuries as altogether different beings from those of our own day. With few toys and books and pictures such as we have now, they must have been, we fancy, very sedate little creatures. A child portrait like this in our ill.u.s.tration dispels these false ideas. This little daughter of a seventeenth-century sculptor is as full of life and spirits as any child of to-day. Barring her quaint dress and foreign tongue she would be at home with children of her own age in any period or country.

The lady's dress is in a style similar to that which we have already studied in the portrait of our first ill.u.s.tration. The stiff bodice, with the long pointed front and square neck, the broad lace-trimmed collar, the large sleeves, and the wide cuffs turned back from the wrist, are details common to the two pictures. This costume, however, is somewhat less elegant than that of the English lady and more suggestive of every-day wear in the home. The collar is less elaborate, and not stiff; the neck is entirely covered with soft white material, fastened at the throat with a small brooch. A seal ring adorns each hand, worn on the index finger.

We recognize the pillar in the background as a common setting in Van Dyck's portraits. The taste of this time was rather artificial in such matters, and inclined to stateliness. There is here no vista beyond the pillar, no glimpse into another apartment, but the s.p.a.ce is, as it were, completely walled in.

VI

DaeDALUS AND ICARUS

In the distant past which we call the age of fable lived the cunning craftsman Daedalus of Athens. One of his most curious inventions was a labyrinth which he constructed for Minos, the king of Crete. Having at length displeased this king he resolved to flee from the island with his son Icarus. It was impossible to escape by way of the sea without detection, but Daedalus was not discouraged.

"Land and wave, He cried, deny me way! But Heaven above Lies open! Heaven shall bear me home!"[6]

So saying he began to fashion some wings with which he might fly away.

Feathers of different lengths were bound together with thread and wax, and shaped into arched pinions like those of a bird. As he worked, the boy Icarus stood by watching his father, and sometimes handling the feathers with his meddlesome fingers.

[Footnote 6: All the quotations are from Ovid's _Metamorphoses_, Book viii., translated by Henry King.]

At last the final touch was given, and Daedalus, fastening the wings to his body with wax, made a short trial flight. The invention was a success; the artist rose triumphant in the air. Then he taught his boy the use of the wings, warning him of every possible mishap:--

"'Midway keep thy course, he said, My Icarus, I warn thee! if too low, The damps will clog thy pinions; if too high, The heats relax them. Midway hold thy flight.

By mine Thy course direct.' And many a precept more He gave, and careful as he bound the wings Upon the shoulders of the boy, his cheeks Were wet with tears, and in the task his hands Paternal trembled."

Our picture ill.u.s.trates this point in the story. Daedalus has just fastened the wings upon his son and is giving the final directions.

The old man's face is full of anxiety, as he implores the lad not to fly too high. Icarus listens to the advice with a shade of impatience, pouting a little, like a wilful child who chafes under restraint. He points forward, as if to show that he understands his orders. Already the slender figure is poised for flight; he is eager to be off. In another moment he will rise into the air, dropping his garment as he ascends. A light breeze flutters the soft plumes of the wings and blows the loose curls about the boy's head. His youthful beauty, almost feminine in type, contrasts finely with the strong furrowed countenance of the father.

[Ill.u.s.tration: DaeDALUS AND ICARUS _Collection of the Earl of Spencer, Althorp_]

The story goes on to tell how the two started off together, the father leading the way.

"And, as the mother bird When first her offspring from the nest essays The air, he hovered anxious, cheering on The boy to follow, and with fatal art Enjoining thus or thus his wings to ply As he example gave."

For a while all went well, and they had covered a long distance, when Icarus,--

"Elate With that new power, more daring grew, and left His guide, and higher, with ambitious flight Soared, aiming at the skies!"

This was the very danger against which Daedalus had warned his son.

"Upon his wings The rays of noon struck scorching, and dissolved The waxen compact of their plumes:--and down He toppled, beating wild with naked arms The unsustaining air, and with vain cry Shrieking for succour from his sire!

The sea that bears his name received him as he fell."

Daedalus, having buried his son on the island of Icaria, proceeded on his way and came at last to Sicily, where he lived to finish some important works of architecture.

Our ill.u.s.tration shows some phases of Van Dyck's art with which we are least familiar. He rarely interested himself in mythological stories, though such subjects were common among his contemporaries. The painter has caught in this case the essential spirit of the myth. There are few of his pictures also in which he expressed so well the sense of motion. The inclination of the body of Icarus, the poise of the wings, and the gesture of the right hand all contribute admirably to this end.

Here, too, we see how carefully he studied the nude figure, and how well he understood the principles of modelling. The foreshortening of the right arm and hand of Icarus is a clever piece of technical workmanship. The composition is well planned to fill the canvas.

VII

PORTRAIT OF CHARLES I

(_By Sir Peter Lely, after Van Dyck_)