href="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@50315@[email protected]#ill_005" class="pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">5.

Miss Bowles (1775) Wallace Collection, London 8 6. Portrait of Two Gentlemen (1778) National Gallery, London 12 7. Mrs. Carnac (1778) Wallace Collection, London 16 8. Lady and Child (1780 ?) National Gallery, London 20 9. Admiral Keppel (1780) “ “ “ 22 10. Mrs. Hoare and Child (1783 ?) Wallace Collection, London 24 11. Mrs. Robinson (“Perdita”) (1784 ?) “ “ “ 28 12. Lord Heathfield (1787) National Gallery, London 36 13. The Age of Innocence (1788) “ “ “ 44 14. Mrs. Braddyl (1788 or 1789) Wallace Collection, London 46 15. Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic Muse (1789) Dulwich Gallery 48 16. Mrs. Nesbit with a Dove Wallace Collection, London 52

 

SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS

When Benjamin West, a native of Pennsylvania, was elected President of the Royal Academy, on the death of Reynolds in 1792, he found the arts in a state of prosperity which could hardly have been predicted when Reynolds began painting in London just half a century earlier. To attribute this happy improvement to his illustrious predecessor alone would have been more than was fair to West himself, and in giving to Sir Joshua the fullest credit for his share in it, the claims of one or two great painters and of more lesser lights than can readily be counted must not be overlooked. But, when all have been fairly considered, it is to Reynolds that the highest tribute is due for having helped, by precept as well as by practice, to raise the arts from the low estate in which he found them at the outset of his career to the proud position in which they stood at the close of the eighteenth century. “He was the first Englishman,” said Edmund Burke, “who added the praise of the elegant arts to the other glories of his country.”

Looking back, as we now may, over the whole extent of British painting in the eighteenth century, we may say still more than this, namely that while others practised the profession of painting Reynolds dignified it. Painting in England had never been an art, it was little more than a business; and there was small hope of it ever becoming anything better when a really considerable painter like Kneller was content simply to fill his pockets from the profits of an emporium for fashionable portraits without caring in the least as to their quality so long as he got his price.

Kneller, however, was a German. What was wanted for English Art was an Englishman. Sir James Thornhill, and his forceful son-in-law, William Hogarth, were both bold and successful in attempting what they could, each in his particular way, to root the plant in the soil. But neither had the necessary combination of those two qualities, greatness and dignity,