The Mask of the Red Death - Graham's Magazine, May 1842 — reading text

Afar I roam; The freshening breeze now swells the sails, witl In other climes no hearts Ill find, A storm is on; Like those at home. like The weary moon’s dim lustre fails, O; The stars are gone, Of all yon sisterhood of stars, Not so fades love’s eternal light and But one is true ; When storm-clouds weep ; new She paves my path with crystal spars, I know one heart’s with me to-night on t And beams like you, Upon the deep.  i| THE LATE SIR DAVID WILKIE. ii BY LOUIS FITZGERALD TASISTRO, q i | Unver the head of Painting, England undoubtedly and his Blind Fiddler; two of the most interesting and at present stands considerably above any of the con- perfect works that ever proceeded from the pencil ; tinental nations; but they surpass her perhaps in an and which at once evince in the artist, and excite in equal degree, in the sister Art of Sculpture, and in the spectator, more activity of thought, and play of Music, — Italy in both of these, and Germany in the sentiment, than are called forth at all the fashionable latter. France may perhaps be said to have reached parties of London and Paris for a whole season. the same general point that England has in all these Wilkie’s power was confined, as I have said, to Arts; but she cannot claim the same exceptions in the representation of what he saw ; but he selected favor of individual instances, in either of them. In and combined this with such admirable judgment, musical composers, on the other hand, she surpasses and represented it with such unrivalled truth and England, and yet reaches to only a very moderate precision, that his pictures impress themselves on degree of excellence. the memory with all the force and reality of facts. Sir David Wilkie was one of the most distinguished We remember, and recur to, the scenes he places Artists, in his particular line, that England, or any before us, just as we should to the real scenes if we other country ever possessed. He has, to be sure, had been present at them; and can hardly think of, produced, comparatively speaking, but few pictures; and refer to them as any thing Sut real scenes. They but in force and richness of expression, in truth and seem to become part of our experience — to increase depth of character, in subtlety of thought, and felicity the stores of our actual knowledge of life and human of invention, I have seen none in the same class that nature; and the actors in them take their places at all equal these few. In the above particulars, and among the persons we have seen and known in our in a marvellous truth and simplicity of pencil in intercourse with the living world. delineating what he sees or remembers, Wilkie as far Wilkie’s pictures are, in one sense of the term, surpasses Teniers himself, as Teniers surpasses him the most national that were ever painted; and will in freedom and felicity of touch, and freshness, trans- carry down to posterity the face, character, habits, pareney, and beauty of coloring. And important as costume, etc. of the period and class which they rep- these latter qualities are in a picture, those which resent, in a way that nothing else ever did or could; spring from, and appeal to, the intellect chiefly, must for they are literally the things themselves— the be allowed to be still more so. truth, and nothing but the truth. The painter allows The subject of Wilkie’s pictures are confined to himself nosliberty or licence in the minutest particu- what may be called the higher classes of low life, lars. He seems to have a superstitious reverence where the habits and institutions of modern society for the truth; and he would no more paint a lie than have hitherto, in a great measure, failed to diffuse he would tell one. I suppose he has never introduced that artificial and conventional form of character, an article of dress or furniture into any one of his which, if it does not altogether preclude the action pictures, that he had not actually seen worn or used of the feelings, at least forbids all outward manifes- under the cireumstances he was representing. If he tation of them. If Sir David had unfortunately had occasion to paint a peasant who had just entered devoted his peculiar and unrivalled power of depict- a cottage ona rainy day, he would, as a matter of ing what ¢s, to scenes in high, or even in middle life, conscience, leave the marks of his dirty footsteps on he would have produced works altogether feeble and the threshold of the door! This scrupulous minute- worthless; because he could only represent what ness of detail, which would be the bane of some actually did exist; and, in these classes of life, thes, class of art, is the beauty of his, coupled, and made as far as regards its outward attributes, is smoothed subservient, as it was, to the most curious, natural, and polished down to a plane and colorless surface, and interesting development of character, sentiment which will not admit the passage of any thing from and thought. within, and from which every thing without slides off But the most extraordinary examples of this artist’s like water-drops from the feathers of a bird. professional skill, are those in which he has depicted Only think of making a picture of a party of ladies some peculiar expression in the face and action of and gentlemen, assembled to hear a piece of political some one of his characters. The quantity anddegree news read; or of the same persons listening to a solo of expression that he has, in several of these instances, on the violin by an eminent professor! And yet thrown into the compass of a face and figure of less these are the subjects of Wilkie’s Village Politicians, than the common miniature size, is not to be conceived  276 GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE. =x. without being seen, and has certainly never before seems to me to be the very last sensation these works been equalled in the Art. His most extraordinary are adapted to call forth. efforts of this kind are two, in which the expressions Speaking of the best and most characteristic of are not very agreeable, but which become highly them, I would say, that scarcely any compositions of interesting, on account of the extreme difficulty that the art, in whatever class, are calculated to excite a is felt to have been overcome in the production of greater variety of deep and serious feelings ; feelings, them. One of these is an old man, in the act of itis true, so uniformly tempered and modified by a coughing violently ; and the other is a child, who has calm and delightful satisfaction, that they can scarcely cut his fingers. r be considered without calling up a smile to the coun- But if this is the most extraordinary part of Wil- tenance. But the smile arising from inward delight kie’s pictures, and the part most likely to attract vul- is as different from the laughter excited by strange- gar attention and curiosity, it is far frem being the ness and drollery as any one thing can be from most valuable and characteristic. If it were, I should another. It is, in fact, the very essence.of Wilkie’s not regard him as the really great artist which I now pictures, that there is literaily nothing strange, and do. The mere overcoming of difficulty, for the sake consequently nothing droll and laughter-moving about of overcoming it, and without producing any other them. ulterior effect, would be a mere idle waste of time From the works of no one English artist have I and skill, and quite unworthy either of praise or received so much pure and unmixed pleasure and attention. It is in thesé particular instances which instruction as I have from those of Sir David Wilkie. I have noticed above, as in numerous others in dif- He differs from all the great old masters, inasmuch ferent lines of art, a mere sleight of hand, exceed- as I think he possesses more vigor of pencil, and rspaciorscinanen -.*-T.SFORE resents TIE TE eR ef: sae: ingly curious, as exhibiting the possible extent of more natural and characteristic truth of expression human skill, but no more. than any of them. His style cannot, indeed, be said sera semper In Wilkie’s pictures, this exhibition of mere manual to possess the airy and enchanting graces of Claude, skill is used very sparingly, and is almost always or the classic power and beauty of the Poussins, or kept in subjection to, or brought in aid of, other the delicious sweetness of Paul Potter, or the sunny rn infinitely more valuable ends. With the single ex- brightness of Wynants, or the elegant warmth of ception of the ‘‘Cut Finger,” which is a mere grat- Both, or the delightfully rural and country-fied air of uitous effort of this manual dexterity, all his pictures Hobbima. In fact, he has no peculiar or distinguish- are moral tales, more or less interesting, from their ing style of Ais own; and this is his great and cha- perfectly true delineation of habits and manners, or racteristic beauty. There is nothing in his pictures impressive,