heads, together with draperies destined to accentuate the artificial appearance of the whole portrait. One can see at a glance that it was from Van Dyck he had learned the placing and handling of the heads, hands, and backgrounds, but what a monotonous procession it is. In order to appreciate the superficialities of Lely a number of his portraits must be seen together. We then see how monotonous he was, how few of those qualities he possessed which go to make up a great artist. That he had a considerable amount of technique at his command can be seen in such portraits as the "Duchess of Cleveland" in the National Portrait Gallery, but in others again he fell so far below this level of excellence, that one is sometimes tempted to reject many perfectly glorious pictures as not being from his hand.

The art of Lely had attained great popularity amongst the aristocracy whose lives called into being the decadent art of this period. All who sought the public favour tried to catch his manner, and hence arose quite a number of imitators. Occasionally Lely was surpassed by some of his scholars. For example, John Greenhill absorbed more of the real qualities of Van Dyck than his master. The remarkable portrait in the Gallery of Dulwich College shows unmistakable signs of genius of a high order, and had he not fallen into irregular habits and died at the age of thirty-two he might have achieved great things.

Sir Godfrey Kneller, who followed Lely, was infinitely inferior to him as an artist. He claimed, too, to continue the Van Dyck tradition, but by this time the art of portrait painting had sunk into such a deplorable condition, owing to the depravity of public taste and to the slavish imitation of the brilliant Fleming, that there are few of his pictures that appeal in the least to the artistic sense. It was not until the great period of English painting, beginning with Hogarth, of which I have already spoken, that the downward career of painting in this country was finally checked.

So far our attention has been devoted to discovering the visible effect of Van Dyck's art upon his contemporaries and followers. The fact that on the whole his influence was decadent in this direction must not allow us to detract from his own qualities. We must rather search for the reasons which caused his art to retain such a hold upon generations of English painters. It must not be forgotten that Van Dyck's profession in England was essentially that of a portrait painter, and he was employed by the aristocracy exclusively. He, indeed, may be called the aristocratic painter par excellence, and in this respect does not yield to either Titian or Velazquez. It was, however, when he strayed from his normal course that he revealed his deficiencies; the few extant portraits of the lower classes demonstrate amply how unsuited he was to portraying any below the upper ranks of life. To every plebeian sitter he imparted an air of gentility and distinction quite out of keeping. Until the advent of Wilson and Gainsborough, portraiture was the sole art, at any rate, as far as painting is concerned, that flourished in England. Its patrons were all of the upper classes, and the Van Dyck manner, which by this time had become a tradition, was recognised by both artists and sitters as the best suited to their purpose. It was only in the eighteenth century that the general financial and educational uplifting of the middle classes called into being that naturalist school which finally drove all others from the field.

It is probable, however, that the painters who worked so slavishly in Van Dyck's English manner had never become acquainted with his finest achievements in portraiture. With few exceptions these were executed before he settled permanently in England.

It is practically certain that Gainsborough, for example, had never seen such portraits as the Philippe le Roy and his wife, now among the greatest treasures of Hertford House, which date from the years between 1628-32. It was then that Van Dyck had reached his maximum development, and it is by the portraits he made in the ten years round about this date that he will probably be judged by posterity. The facile ease and silvery liquidity of his latter manner may have an irresistible charm for those who have not studied the master very deeply, but for the artist and the student the works he had achieved, before success had crowned his efforts in the same measure that it did shortly after his arrival here, will ever remain the standard by which to judge him.

At this time he displayed great assiduity to learn anything he could either from his predecessors or from his contemporaries. In this connection it may not be out of place to relate a story, the truth of which has frequently been challenged.

Having come across some portraits by Franz Hals, and being very anxious to see the master at work, he made a journey to Haarlem. Upon inquiring at the Dutchman's studio, he found that Hals was at his usual tavern. He accordingly sent word to him that a stranger was waiting to have his portrait painted, and that he had but two hours to give him before leaving the town. Hals arrived immediately, and, in view of the shortness of time at his disposal, set to work with a will. Van Dyck, who, needless to say, had not been recognised, remarked, as Hals was putting on the finishing touches, that painting seemed a very easy process, and asked to be allowed to try his hand. Accordingly they changed places, and Hals soon perceived that the stranger was no novice in the handling of the brush. As the work proceeded his curiosity became more and more whetted, and finally, unable to restrain his curiosity any longer, he went over to see how the work was progressing. One can imagine his surprise when he saw a masterly portrait in process of completion, and, recognising the handling, immediately cried out: "Why, you are none other than Van Dyck, for he alone could have achieved what you have done."

As an historical painter he takes a very high rank amongst seventeenth-century masters; he was far ahead in vigour of treatment and in strength of brushwork of any of his contemporaries in Italy. The school of Bologna, whilst possessing a refinement he never attained, is effeminate in comparison with him. Their very eclecticism prevented them giving free rein to their fancy, and consequently the great majority of their works possess a restraint of feeling, coupled with a perfection of execution, which neither Rubens nor Van Dyck surpassed.

Van Dyck certainly stands out as the greatest scholar of Rubens in every way. His fellow-pupils whom he left behind in Flanders could not compare with him. The works of the cleverest of them, Caspar de Grayer, appear formal, indeed, when compared with any of the stupendous religious compositions still preserved in the great churches of his native country. Their chief merit is, as I have before said, in the exceedingly human presentment of the subject. The sense of physical pain and of human brutality has never been better treated, and, if at times he carries this quality to a painful degree, no charge could be levelled against him on the score of feebleness or of lack of thoroughness in making his meaning quite clear.

As compared with similar works by Rubens they possess an interest for us which the latter cannot always command, by reason of their being conceived and finished by the master himself, whereas those of Rubens, more often than not, were only worked upon by the master after pupils had carried out the greater part of the work.

Van Dyck's religious and historical pictures belong to the period of his career when his execution was at its zenith, and consequently they possess an extraordinary degree of interest to the artist.

It is, however, to his early years that one must turn to form a just estimation of his abilities, and in his finest works he takes his place beside Titian and Velazquez, Rembrandt and Holbein, amongst the greatest masters of portrait painting who have ever lived.