192 
THE TWO WATER-COLOUR SOCIETIES. 
[Nature and Art, June 1, 1867. 
If she might sleep, it were well ; but Isabella of Portugal 
must be worthy of her ancestry, and sit bolt upright to the 
end of the tale. She has a beautiful gold dress, however, 
and the Crusader is as like a bore of the fifteenth century 
as we can imagine. 
Nos. 73, 74, and 75 are the work of one of the completest 
geniuses that France has produced— Edouard Frere. We say 
completest, because we think that in his works may be traced 
that harmony between his most spontaneous sympathies 
and his aim in art, which makes us recognize them as ex- 
pressions of true emotions — not perhaps of the greatest, but 
still the emotions of a living mind. Nothing in his pictures 
in any way contradicts or disturbs the dominant sentiment. 
The vei-y absence of great qualities in the drawing and 
colour adds to their gentle humanity. One is with an equal, 
as it were, and willing to be pleased with simple pleasant 
things. All ideas of strife and the pride of emulation are 
forgotten, looking upon these artless, tender paintings, with 
their hesitating touch and half-understood effects. We may 
well forgive him his black shadows, when he gives us ex- 
pression so subtile and gracious to think of, as he has in 
“The Reprimand” and “The Invalid Doll” (73 and 74). 
In “The Reprimand” we see two little bodies who have 
been getting into trouble, committing some of the crime of 
such wee folk' — letting out the calves or chasing the ducks, 
or, with many deep-laid plots, creeping through the hedge 
to where the ripening peaches make the garden sacred — 
perhaps even scuffling with their little round fists, in which 
case, we venture to say that the combat was not a very fierce 
one, and after the adjudication of the wonderful old grand- 
father, who sits at home all day in the shadowy house, they 
will trot off into the sunlight again, hand in hand. For, 
you see, these two have been toddling about all the 
summer day. The little lad stands sturdy and tired, hot 
from the sun, the collar of his blouse thrown back from his 
tender brown throat, and his eyes still half dazzled with the 
light, and the chubby, gentle little woman, who has crept 
to her well-known refuge at the old man’s knee, is already 
getting drowsy, partly with compunction and partly with 
rest. The old man is a kindly, punctilious old fellow, quite 
earnest and particular about the misdeeds of these two 
minute culprits. It is impossible to express how much there 
is of tenderness and deep sympathy in this picture, which, 
while recognizing its shortcomings as a painting, we would 
rather have than almost any in the Gallery. “ The Invalid 
Doll” (74) has much of the same excellence, but 75, called 
“Leaving School,” is by no means, to our thinking, a suc- 
cessful effort. It is a large picture, and the defective 
workmanship tells more unfortunately ; and again, it is a 
picture of strong action, which is not the forte of the artist. 
It represents a troop of boys rushing out of school into the 
grey, snowy air, some tumbling clown the steps, some making 
slides in the frozen gutter, some throwing snowballs ; all 
“the business” (to borrow a word from the theatre) is 
there, but they are not boys. They are too much alike, in 
the first place, and all good boys : they lack animal intensity, 
the busy eagerness of mischief, in their waywardness — 
lacking the loyal humble admiration of the weak for the 
strong, by the utterly absurd merriment which is the privi- 
lege of their age. Nor can we find much attempt to render 
the beauty of lythe young forms, bright eyes, and curly heads, 
yet this picture has the merit which genius alone can confer 
— it is equally free from affectation and false excitement as 
from coarseness and common-place. 
“ Art and Liberty ” (80) is by Gallait, one of the most 
admired and successful of modern painters. For ourselves, 
we have never put this accomplished artist among the first : 
he seems to us to have all sorts of knowledge and no intui- 
tion ; he knows all about anatomy and heraldry; archeology 
and expression ; the proper things to group to tell his story, 
and all about paints and mediums, but he does not seem 
to us to have any special gift of expressing all this know- 
ledge. The clean, bright painting of this picture would be 
enviable to a scholar, but not to a master. The sentiment 
is appropriate, but affects us as little as the accuracy of a 
sermon or prize poem. Everything is well and scientifically 
drawn, but without fire or sense of movement. Albert 
Diirer has the noble, but rather helpless air of a tenor hero 
at the opera. But it is so thankless a task to point out the 
shortcomings of what has at all events been competently 
done, that we will say no more. 
“ Louis XIV. and Moliere ” (82), by Gerdme, is un- 
doubtedly very fine. The superiority of the desig-n and 
arrangement of colour to the execution shows, however, 
that it is a duplicate work ; while the expressions are 
very subtile in intention, but not carried out as finely 
as they no doubt are in the larger picture, which is now 
exhibited at Paris! The faces of the king and Moliere, for 
instance, are rather blurred, and the eyes of all the per- 
sonages want vivacity. The cardinal is the best figure, 
though somewhat coarse as an expression of priestly arro- 
gance. The colour of his violet robe makes a charming 
harmony with the white and gold of the room. It is always 
a great advantage to an artist when his subject allows him 
to people an existing scene with interesting or historic 
personages ; and there is no doubt that this picture has 
gained immensely in reality from the fact that the king’s 
room at Versailles looks now almost exactly as it did when 
the great Louis might be expected to enter it at any 
moment. In creating ghosts a good solid array of facts are 
invaluable. The painting of velvets, and gold, and court 
splendour in this picture is most remarkable — it is not 
noble and triumphant, as it would have been in a Venetian 
work, but it is in rare good taste — it is French, in fact. 
THE TWO WATER-COLOUR SOCIETIES. 
rilHE new society, or, as it is now called, “ The Institute 
JL of Painters in Water-Colours,” has given this year a 
lesson to all our societies connected with the Fine Arts, by 
electing' foreign honorary members. All learned societies 
and academies in every part of the world elect men of 
celebrity belonging to other countries. This practice should 
have been carried out by the Royal Academy, and no doubt 
but it would have been followed. But the honour of giving 
this worthy example has been seized by the Institute, and they 
have elected Rosa Bonheur, Henriette Brown, Meissonier, 
Gallait, and Madou. Rosa Bonheur exhibits “A High- 
land Lake” (52). It was only lately that this gifted lady 
made her first attempt at water-colours ; during a visit to 
this country she was so struck with the qualities produced 
by the English school of water-colours, that she was tempted 
to try her hand, and the picture here exhibited is one of 
her first efforts. The technical qualities produced by wash- 
ing and various other processes have not been carried out 
to any extent, but the sheep and the figures in the boat are 
most beautifully done. Mr. Gallait’ s works are small 
copies of two of his large historical pictures — “ The War- 
rant of Execution read to Counts Egmont and Horne ” (49) 
and the “Oath of Vargas” (55). Mr. Gallait’s power of 
correct and careful drawing is here seen ; it is as thoroughly 
carried out as in his large pictures. One of the principal 
pictures in the French section of the International Exhibi- 
tion of 1862 was by Henriette Brown, of two Sisters of 
Charity nursing a sick child. She sends a similar subject 
to this gallery ; and we hope that she, as well as the other 
honorary members, will continue to favour us in future 
years with further contributions. E. G. Warren has left 
his corn-fields and beech-trees and gone to the coast, from 
which he sends “ The Battle of the Waters ” (226) ; a wild, 
stormy picture, with the wind almost visible in it. The 
