Nature and Art, September 1, 1866.] 
THE STORY OF A SCENE-PAINTER. 
103 
broken into rugged and picturesque forms, and 
covered with minute mosses and lichens, “ pro- 
ducing,” says a critic of the period, “ a captivating 
effect amounting indeed to reality.” 
In his method of illuminating his handiworks 
De Loutlierbourg was especially adroit. He aban- 
doned the unnatural system (introduced by Garrick 
on his return from the Continent in 1765) of lighting 
the stage by means of a flaming line of footlights, 
and ranged his lamps above the proscenium, out of 
sight of the audience. Before his lamps he placed 
slips of stained glass — yellow, red, green, blue, and 
purple ; and by shifting these, or happily combining 
them, was enabled to tint his scenes so as to repre- 
sent various hours of the day and different actions 
of light. His “ Storm at Sea, with the loss of the 
Halsewell, East-Indiaman,” was regarded as the 
height of artistic mechanism. The ship was a per- 
fect model, correctly rigged, and carrying only such 
sail as the situation demanded. The lightning 
quivered through the transparent canvas of the sky. 
The waves, carved in soft wood from models made 
in clay, coloured with great skill and highly var- 
nished to reflect the lightning, rose and fell with 
irregular action, flinging the foam now here, now 
there, diminishing in size and fading in colour as 
they receded from the spectator. Then we read — 
“ De Loutherbourg’s genius was as prolific in imita- 
tions of nature to astonish the ear as to charm the 
sight. He introduced a new art : the picturesque 
of sound.” That is to say, he simulated thunder by 
shaking one of the lower corners of a large thin 
sheet of copper suspended by a chain ; the distant 
firing of signals of distress he imitated by striking, 
suddenly, a large tambourine with a sponge affixed 
to a whalebone spring — the reverberations of the 
sponge producing a curious echo, as from cloud to 
cloud, dying away in the distance. The rushing 
sound of the -waves was effected by turning round 
and round an octagonal pasteboard box, fitted with 
shelves, and containing small shells, peas, and shot ; 
while two discs of strained silk, suddenly pressed 
together, emitted a hollow, whistling sound, in 
imitation of loud gusts of wind. Cylinders loosely 
charged with seed and small shot, lifted now at one 
end, now at the other, so as to allow the contents 
to fall in a pattering stream, represented the noise 
of hail and rain. The moon was formed by a cir- 
cular aperture cut in a tin box containing a power- 
ful Argand lamp, which was placed at the back of 
the scene, and brought near or carried far from the 
canvas as the luminary was supposed to be shining 
brightly or to be veiled by clouds. These con- 
trivances, from a modern point of view, may strike 
the reader as constituting quite the A B C of 
theatrical illusion. But then it must be remem- 
bered that they were, for the most part, distinctly 
the inventions of De Loutlierbourg, and, upon their 
first introduction, were calculated to impress the 
public of his day very remarkably. 
For two seasons De Loutherbourg’s Eidophusikon, 
exhibited at the Patagonian Theatre in Exeter 
ChaDge, and afterwards at a house in Panton Square, 
was attended with singular success. Crowds flocked 
to the new entertainment ; the artist world especially 
delighting in it. Sir Joshua [Reynolds, who was a 
frequent visitor, loudly extolled Mr. De Louther- 
bourg’s ingenuity ; recommending him to the 
patronage of the most eminent men of the time, 
and counselling all art-students to attend the exhi- 
bition as a school of the wonderful effects of nature. 
Gainsborough’s ready sympathies were completely 
enlisted. For a time, after his manner, he could 
talk of nothing else, think of nothing else ; and he 
passed evening after evening at the exhibition. He 
even constructed a miniature Eidophusikon of his 
own — moved thereto by De Loutherbourg’s success 
and the beauty of a collection of stained glass, the 
property of one Mr. Jarvis — and painted various 
landscapes upon glass and transparent surfaces, to 
be lighted by candles at the back, and viewed 
through a magnifying lens upon the peep-show 
principle. But at last the fickle public wearied of the 
Eidophusikon, as it had been wearied of Mr. Dibdin’s 
puppets. The providers of amusement had, in those 
days, to be ever stirring in the production of 
novelties. The sight-seeing public was but a limited 
and exhaustible body tlieu, little recruited by 
visitors from the provinces or travellers from the 
Continent. Long runs of plays or other entertain- 
ments — the rule with us — were then almost un- 
known. The Eidophusikon ceased to attract. The 
amount received at the doors was at last insufficient 
to defray the expenses of lighting the building. It 
became necessary to close the exhibition and pro- 
vide a new entertainment. Soon the room in 
Exeter Change was crowded with visitors. Wild 
beasts were on view, and all London was gaping at 
them. 
Meanwhile De Loutlierbourg prospered as an 
artist. His reputation grew ; his pictures were in 
request ; he was honoured with the steady patronage 
of King George III., and was personally an acknow- 
ledged favourite at court : a thoroughly successful 
man indeed. Then we come down to the year 
1789, and find the artist of the Eidophusikon 
assuming a new character. He has become a 
physician — a seer — a fanatic — and, it must be said, 
a quack; a disciple of Mesmer, a friend of Cagliostro ; 
practising animal magnetism, professing to cure all 
diseases, and indulging in vaticination and second 
sight. 
Towards the close of the eighteenth century, 
credulity and imposition shook hands heartily and 
held a great festival. Throughout civilized Europe 
a sort of carnival of empiricism prevailed. Quack 
was king. A spurious leaven of charlatanism was 
traceable in politics, in science, in religion — per- 
vaded all things indeed. The world was mad to 
cheat or to be cheated. The mountebank enjoyed 
his saturnalia. Never had he exhibited his exploits 
before an audience so numerous and so sympathetic 
— so eager to be swindled, so liberal in rewarding 
the swindler. Gravely does Miss Hannah More 
address Mr. Horace Walpole, concerning what she 
terms the “demoniacal mummery” — “the operation 
of fraud upon folly” which then occupied the 
country. “ In vain do we boast of the enlightened 
