Part 2

As my readers know, the Museum became a fact in 1876, but two years earlier, in 1874, there had been earnest talk about a school of drawing and painting, and though nothing was actually done, yet the ground was prepared by much discussion for establishing such a school on right principles of theory and practice when the time should come for doing something. The Museum once established, the trustees conferred with those of their fellow-citizens who had been urging the foundation of a school; the trustees offered rooms in the new building, the others raised the necessary funds to equip the school, and on Tuesday, January 2, 1877, the school was opened.

The school is under the control of a permanent committee, consisting of four painters, three architects, the three principal officers of the Museum, and two other gentlemen. The rooms occupied by the school are in the basement of the building; they are well lighted, warmed, and ventilated, and are furnished with all the necessary means and appliances for instruction, while the pupils have, in addition to the excellent teaching provided for them in the school itself, the advantage of free access to the permanent collections of the Museum, as well as to the special exhibitions that, from time to time, take place in the building. The school holds a high rank among similar institutions in the country; it is under the able and high minded management of Mr. Frederic Crowninshield, and it is sincerely to be hoped that before long it may find itself in quarters more ample, and better suited to the dignity of so important a factor in the culture of the community. At the same time the hope may be expressed, that the school and the Museum may never part company, but that their relations, on the contrary, may grow closer and stronger, and that in time the school may become an active part of the foundation, and be put under the complete control of the trustees. There could not be a better place for students than an institution like this, where daily seeing the finest forms of antique art, and constantly increasing opportunities for acquaintance with good modern work, illustrate and strengthen the lessons learned in the school itself.

Immediately in front of the visitor as he enters the Museum rises the ample staircase that leads to the upper rooms. The stairs mount in a broad flight in the middle of the hall, to the first landing, where they divide, and returning on themselves finish the ascent in two flights, one at the right hand and the other at the left. On this first landing was at one time placed a handsome original example of the carved settles or benches of the Italian Renaissance, but this has now been replaced by a cast of the reclining female figure called Cleopatra, but to which the name of Ariadne is now more commonly given. The original marble is in the Vatican. This cast is one of those purchased with the bequest of the late Charles Sumner. On the walls of the staircase and of the upper hall several pictures are hung, among them a few that have, at least for Americans, a historic interest. Here are the “Belshazzar’s Feast” of Washington Allston, a picture at one time much talked and written about, and which played an important part in the artist’s life; the “St. Peter delivered from Prison,” by the same painter; the “King Lear” of Benjamin West, and the “Sortie from Gibraltar” of Jonathan Trumbull. Of course these pictures are only placed here for a time, until the Museum building shall be enlarged, for when all deductions have been made on the score of artistic merit that sound criticism can demand, they will still remain as monuments in our development, and as such deserve to be hung where they can be better seen.

Lack of room crowds into the hall of this second story a number of small works, such as the collection of water-color copies from the pictures of Dutch and Italian masters made for the late Mr. Douse, and by him bequeathed to the Athenæum. They are of little value except as memoranda, and might as well be removed from their frames, mounted, and consigned to the custody of portfolios in the print-room.

Of far more value are the drawings in chalk, in pencil, and in pastel by the late J. F. Millet, belonging to Mr. Martin Brimmer; they were among the first things loaned to the Museum, and they still remain among the most valuable for delight and for instruction. At the same end of the hall, and so placed that the light from the large window is most advantageous to it, is placed a cast of the second of the Gates, made by Lorenzo Ghiberti for the Baptistery in Florence.

At the left hand, as we leave the stairs, is the entrance to the extensive loan-collections which fill all but one of the rooms on this side of the building. Although they are directly over the rooms on the first floor, the space they occupy is not so subdivided; we have only four rooms above the five below. The apartment we first enter is a large one, fifty-five feet long by thirty-two wide, and was formerly given up to the pictures which have since been transferred to the answering room on the opposite side of the building. The room opening out of this, at the western end, and of nearly the same size, is devoted to the same object, but it would be impossible within our narrow limits to give an adequate notion of their contents, particularly since, owing to want of space, no scientific arrangement is possible, and the dazed spectator moves about among objects of great value and interest, brought from every clime and belonging to every age, but deprived of much of their value because the key which order gives, is wanting.

The department of textiles, embroideries and laces is full, and of great value, and includes some Italian stuffs and embroideries purchased by the Museum under the direction of the late Alessandro Castellani. There are some fine Flemish tapestries which came from the Château de Neuilly, and a few other pieces of value, but the Museum is richest in that part of the loan collection which belongs to Japan. Dr. W. S. Bigelow has loaned to the Museum his magnificent collection of objects from that country, and it may be said of it that in the field of embroideries, lacquers, swords, sword-mounts, bronzes, ivories, and ceramics, it exhausts the subject. It is now greatly to be desired that some one should undertake the collection of the works of the Japanese artists in painting—a field of great importance, and strangely neglected.

The Museum is rich in specimens of pottery and porcelain of Oriental and European manufacture. In the latter field it is richer than the Metropolitan Museum of New York, but the Avery collection of Chinese and Japanese porcelain in the New York Museum is finer in quality and more complete in its representative character than anything the Boston Museum has. It is also far more attractively displayed. The collection of Captain Brinckley, of Japan, of eight hundred and forty-two pieces of Chinese and Japanese porcelain, loaned to the Boston Museum since 1884 is, however, an acquisition of great value and artistic interest, and although not particularly well displayed is instructively arranged and classified.

In the large western room there is a considerable number of small objects of the period of the Italian Renaissance, some bronzes belonging to the Athenæum, and some medals loaned by Mr. Charles C. Perkins; there is also a considerable number of reproductions of Italian medals, made by Elkington, of London, which serve a useful purpose in the absence of original specimens. There are also, in this room, several good pieces of Italian majolica; two specimens of the Della Robbia ware—one attributed to Luca, the other to Andrea, both loaned by Mr. Perkins. The collection is not rich in glass, either antique or modern. There are a few pieces of old Venetian glass, but they are neither very interesting nor very valuable.

On the south side of this division of the Museum are two rooms, one of which is occupied with a miscellaneous collection of objects in carved wood and ivory, Italian marriage chests, cabinets, tables, etc., etc., with some Japanese objects, chiefly swords, while the other is fitted up with carved oak of the sixteenth century, the lining of a room in some English house, with additions from other quarters. This is an extremely interesting apartment, and, besides the wood-carving, contains six portraits painted on panel, and forming a part of the original decoration of the room; among them heads of Henry VIII., Edward VI., and Queen Elizabeth. There are several pieces of antique furniture in this room, and in the center a glass case containing some good illuminated manuscripts. The mantelpiece, in the style of the period, is a modern reproduction.

Returning to the stair-case hall, and crossing to the eastern side of the building, we find ourselves in the picture-galleries. The shape and disposition of these rooms are similar to those in the opposite wing, but owing to the greater height of the sculpture-gallery on the ground floor at the eastern end, the space above it, divided into two rooms, is several feet higher than the rest of the wing. The great height of the upper story permits this division be to made without injury to the effect.

The pictures belonging to the Museum are not without interest, although their value is not very great, if reckoned in money. The early American pictures include portraits by Copley, Stuart, Allston, and West, but with the exception of the well-known portraits of Washington and Mrs. Washington, by Stuart, there is nothing here of particular interest, although there are often pictures loaned to the Museum by old residents of Boston, which are historically valuable. It is much to be desired that the collection of portraits by Copley in the Museum of Harvard College could be deposited in the Museum. There ought to be in this institution as complete a representation of the early art of the country as can be procured, and it would be comparatively easy to accomplish this at the present time. It must not be inferred that the authorities of the Museum have neglected this portion of their mission. On the contrary, they have rendered important service in this direction, and the special exhibitions have been of interest, and of great importance. Beside miscellaneous loan collections, there have been exhibitions of the works of Allston, of William M. Hunt, and of George Fuller, and every year the visitor finds representative pictures by artists of repute at home and abroad, which excite interest, discussion, criticism, and keep the flame of art and the love of art burning, even if—and this by no fault of the institution—comparatively few avail themselves of the light. The French school of painters which had its seat near the Forest of Fontainebleau, and which is associated with the names of Millet, Corot, Rousseau, and Diaz, is better represented here than any other of the modern schools, although Courbet and Couture are both seen in good examples, Courbet especially, of whom there is a fine picture, “La Curée”—the huntsman winding his horn to call the chase together to cut up the stag. The Couture is the Heads of Two Soldiers seen in profile, and though of no importance as subject, is a good example of his method.

The school of Fontainebleau, or more properly speaking, of Barbizon, is represented by the large “Dante and Virgil,” a companion in size to the “Orpheus” of the Cottier collection in New York, but by no means so fine a work. There is no important work by Millet at present, although there have been here some good examples from time to time, and especially his “Sower,” the fine _replica_ of that picture belonging to Mr. Quincy A. Shaw, with other smaller subjects, particularly a Sheep-shearing, a picture in which all that is best in Millet was to be seen.

The picture gallery at the Museum is such a movable feast that it would be useless to attempt a catalogue of its contents. Just now the “Automedon taming the Horses of Achilles,” by Baptiste Regnault, the “Joan of Arc,” by Bastien Lepage, and “The Walk by the River Side,” by Henri Lerolle, are among the most noticeable of the contents of the large room, although there are a number of smaller pictures that are well worth looking at. There is an effort making to purchase the picture by Regnault, and the Lerolle was presented to the Museum in 1884 by Mr. Francis C. Foster.

The remaining rooms in this portion of the building are a small one in which some fine old Dutch paintings are exhibited, and those which contain the Gray collection of engravings. The Dutch pictures, it is hoped, will one day belong to the Museum; they will form a valuable addition to its collection.

The Gray collection fills the room which runs along the southern side of this wing answering to the large picture gallery which is parallel with it on the north. This collection, formed for the late Francis C. Gray by M. Thies, a German connoisseur, is one of the two or three important collections of prints that are owned in America, and in some departments is excelled by none, while the fact that there is a fund derived from moneys left by Mr. Gray, which is devoted to the maintenance and increase of the collection, gives it the advantage over all others here, and ensures its one day becoming of national importance. It is already very rich in Rembrandts and Dürers, but the aim of those who have it in charge is to make it representative in its character, not of any one school in particular but of all the schools and styles of engraving which have existed. The collection is under the intelligent care of Mr. Edward H. Greenleaf, who makes the contents of the portfolios useful to the public by a series of exhibitions of the finest specimens of the various schools, accompanied with titles, notes, and instructive memoranda, so that in default of proper space for doing full justice to the collection in any permanent way, the course of the year brings before the eyes of students and visitors a considerable number of the prints, and thus makes no slight contribution to general enlightenment on the subject.

The next paper in this series will take up the Metropolitan Museum of New York.

SANITARY CONDITION OF SUMMER RESORTS.

BY THE HON. B. G. NORTHROP, LL.D.

The progress of modern civilization is marked by increasing attention to the sanitary condition of cities, towns and homes. Barbaric races are comparatively puny and short lived. Very old men are seldom found among savages, and the rate of mortality bears some proportion to the degree of barbarism, while early deaths everywhere diminish as the art and science of sanitation advance. The increase of knowledge and the influence of Christianity have greatly lengthened human life. Science is constantly showing how many diseases and deaths are preventable. These facts are abundantly established by statistics in all the most educated nations, and, more recently, by the careful investigations of life insurance companies and public boards of health. There has been a far greater advance in sanitary science during the last fifty years than in any previous century. But the popular appreciation of this science, though steadily advancing, has not kept pace with its discoveries. The pressing demand now is the diffusion of the art of sanitation—the practical application of its methods by the people at large. The public press, the daily, weekly and monthly journals are doing much in this direction. Some of the most widely circulated religious journals have a column regularly devoted to this subject. Our schools are helping on this good work, and here the art of promoting health and prolonging life should be learned and then applied in the family. Such principles, though they seem truisms to the scientist, should be taught to our youth, who should early memorize mottoes like the following: “Health is the prime essential to success.” “The first wealth is health.” “The health of the people is the foundation upon which all their happiness and all their power depend.” “The material precedes and conditions the intellectual.” The school may do more to popularize sanitary science than any other one agency. When this work is once done here, it will not long be true that a large proportion of our people are still living in ignorance and violation of so many of the essential laws of health. The _popular_ neglect of such laws should not be overlooked in our gratification at their discovery.

Our wisest sanitarians affirm that more than one fourth of the diseases which still afflict modern life are preventable. Great prominence has recently been given to this subject in England and other European countries. Dr. Simon, chief medical officer of the English Privy Council, says that “the deaths which we in each year register in this country (now about five hundred thousand) are fully a hundred and twenty-five thousand more numerous than they would be, _if existing knowledge_ of the chief causes of disease, as affecting masses of population, were reasonably well applied throughout England.” With our larger population, probably a still larger number of lives in America might be prolonged by the more general observance of the laws of health. If 125,000 needless deaths occur annually, that implies 3,500,000 needless sicknesses, there being on an average twenty-eight cases of sickness to every death. Saying nothing of the hopes thus blasted and the hearts and homes desolated, the mere money value of the lives thus prematurely ended every year would amount to many millions of dollars, often involving the abandonment of lucrative enterprises, and inducing poverty if not pauperism. In this lowest view, it costs to be sick and it costs to die.

Modern civilization relates specially to the homes and social life of the people, to their health, comfort and thrift, their intellectual and moral advancement. In earlier times and other lands men were counted in the aggregate and valued as they helped to swell the revenues or retinues of kings and nobles. The government was the unit, and each individual only added one to the roll of serfs or soldiers. With us the individual is the unit, and the government is _for_ the people, as well as by the people. This interest in the people has been manifested in new laws for protecting their health, and by the general organization of State and local Boards of Health.

Their investigations have embraced not only the needs of cities, towns and individual homes, but have revealed startling facts as to the unsanitary condition, and consequently the peril, of certain summer resorts. Cases of loss of life from the burning of hotels have led to the enactment of laws requiring fire escapes. On account of disasters by the explosion of steam boilers, all steamboats are required to get a “bill of safety” from an official expert examiner. But the violations of sanitary laws in boarding houses, hotels and summer resorts have produced annually far more sickness and death than have such fires and explosions. The circumstantial horrors connected with these sudden and terrible disasters produce a deep and lasting impression, and prompt to stringent, preventive laws, while the deaths from bad sanitary conditions, though more numerous, are so isolated as to attract little notice. The patronage of summer resorts is already so large, and is so rapidly increasing from year to year, as to multiply their number and increase their attractions. This summer migration from city to country is more than a fashion, and is favored by such substantial reasons as to insure its permanence and growth. Even city clerks have their fortnight’s vacation for rest and refreshment by the seaside or among the hills and mountains. There is a greater exodus of teachers and members of all professions during their longer vacations—still more, families, and especially those having young children, seek this escape from the heat, dust, and miasmatic exhalations of the crowded city. Though their children may have attended the kindergarten in the city, they find the best sort of kindergarten in the open fields and varied objects of the country, with its wider range for rambles and those freer sports that are so attractive to every wide-awake boy, such as boating, fishing, hunting, watching turtles, gathering bugs and butterflies, roaming in the woods, taking long excursions on the lakes or rivers, climbing steep hills and rocky cliffs, loving flowers, observing the properties of plants and trees, and the names, habits, retreats and voices of the birds. Living much in the open air, nature becomes the great educator, and for the summer at least, the country proffers superior advantages for the physical, mental and moral training of youth. The boy, for example, who observes the birds so as to distinguish them by their beak, claws, form, plumage, song or flight has gained an invaluable habit of accurate observation never acquired while cooped up in a city.

The apprehension of cholera during the present summer is likely to increase the patronage of rural resorts. The condition of some dense centers of population invites this pest. Its most terrible ravages last summer in Naples, Marseilles and Toulouse occurred in the squalid dens so long the reproach of those cities. Our summer retreats should all be health resorts in fact as well as in name. Yet many of them—little villages in winter, with a population of a few scores or hundreds—are too often ill-prepared to be suddenly expanded into cities with a population of many thousands, during the hottest and most trying months of the year. Several State Boards of Health, within a few years, have examined many watering-places and have been reluctantly compelled to make startling statements as to their unsanitary conditions.

In some cases these unwholesome and unwelcome discoveries, though a surprise and regret to the owners, were accepted as facts, and the needful remedies promptly applied. In other instances, such disagreeable revelations awakened resentment and were treated as absurd alarms or slanderous attacks, and ignorance and prejudice held their ground undisturbed.