Chapter 3

Furnished as they are with the means of furthering their foolishness, they spread prejudice abroad; and through the papers, at their service, thousands are warned against the work they have yet to look upon.

And here one is tempted to go further, and show the crass idiocy and impertinence of those whose dicta are printed as law.

How he of the _Times_[18] has found Velasquez "slovenly in execution, poor in colour--being little but a combination of neutral greys and ugly in its forms"--how he grovelled in happiness over a Turner--that was no Turner at all, as Mr. Ruskin wrote to show--Ruskin! whom he has since defended. Ah! Messieurs, what our neighbours call "la malice des choses" was unthought of, and the sarcasm of fate was against you. How Gerard Dow's broom was an example for the young; and Canaletti and Paul Veronese are to be swept aside--doubtless with it. How Rembrandt is coarse, and Carlo Dolci noble--with more of this kind. But what does it matter?

[Note 18: June 6, 1874]

"What does anything matter!" The farce will go on, and its solemnity adds to the fun.

Mediocrity flattered at acknowledging mediocrity, and mistaking mystification for mastery, enters the fog of dilettantism, and, graduating connoisseur, ends its days in a bewilderment of bric-à-brac and Brummagem!

"Taste" has long been confounded with capacity, and accepted as sufficient qualification for the utterance of judgment in music, poetry, and painting. Art is joyously received as a matter of opinion; and that it should be based upon laws as rigid and defined as those of the known sciences, is a supposition no longer to be tolerated by modern cultivation. For whereas no polished member of society is at all affected at admitting himself neither engineer, mathematician, nor astronomer, and therefore remains willingly discreet and taciturn upon these subjects, still would he be highly offended were he supposed to have no voice in what is clearly to him a matter of "Taste"; and so he becomes of necessity the backer of the critic--the cause and result of his own ignorance and vanity! The fascination of this pose is too much for him, and he hails with delight its justification. Modesty and good sense are revolted at nothing, and the millennium of "Taste" sets in.

The whole scheme is simple: the galleries are to be thrown open on Sundays, and the public, dragged from their beer to the British Museum, are to delight in the Elgin Marbles, and appreciate what the early Italians have done to elevate their thirsty souls! An inroad into the laboratory would be looked upon as an intrusion; but before the triumphs of Art, the expounder is at his ease, and points out the doctrine that Raphael's results are within the reach of any beholder, provided he enrol himself with Ruskin or hearken to Colvin in the provinces. The people are to be educated upon the broad basis of "Taste," forsooth, and it matters but little what "gentleman and scholar" undertake the task.

Eloquence alone shall guide them--and the readiest writer or wordiest talker is perforce their professor.

The Observatory at Greenwich under the direction of an Apothecary! The College of Physicians with Tennyson as President! and we know that madness is about. But a school of art with an accomplished _littérateur_ at its head disturbs no one! and is actually what the world receives as rational, while Ruskin writes for pupils, and Colvin holds forth at Cambridge.

Still, quite alone stands Ruskin, whose writing is art, and whose art is unworthy his writing. To him and his example do we owe the outrage of proffered assistance from the unscientific--the meddling of the immodest--the intrusion of the garrulous. Art, that for ages has hewn its own history in marble, and written its own comments on canvas, shall it suddenly stand still, and stammer, and wait for wisdom from the passer-by?--for guidance from the hand that holds neither brush nor chisel? Out upon the shallow conceit! What greater sarcasm can Mr. Ruskin pass upon himself than that he preaches to young men what he cannot perform! Why, unsatisfied with his own conscious power, should he choose to become the type of incompetence by talking for forty years of what he has never done!

Let him resign his present professorship, to fill the chair of Ethics at the university. As master of English literature, he has a right to his laurels, while, as the populariser of pictures he remains the Peter Parley of painting.

_The Art Critic of the "Times"_

[Sidenote: Mr. Tom Taylor's acknowledgment of presentation copy of Mr. Whistler's "Art and Art Critics," with "Sans rancune" inscribed upon fly-leaf by the author.]

"Sans rancune," by all means, my dear Whistler; but you should not have quoted from my article, of June 6th, 1874, on Velasquez, in such a way as to give exactly the opposite impression to that which the article, taken as a whole, conveys.

[Sidenote: _The World_, Jan. 15, 1879.]

I appreciate and admire Velasquez as entirely, and allow me to say, as intelligently, as yourself. I have probably seen and studied more of his work than you have. And I maintain that the article you have garbled in your quotation gives a fair and adequate account of the picture it deals with--"_Las Meninas_"--and one which any artist who knows the picture would, in essentials, subscribe to.

God help the artists if ever the criticism of pictures falls into the hands of painters! It would be a case of vivisection all round.

Your pamphlet is a very natural result of your late disagreeable legal experiences, though not a very wise one.

If the critics are not better qualified to deal with the painters than the painter in your pamphlet shows himself qualified to deal with the critics, it will be a bad day for art when the hands that have been trained to the brush lay it aside for the pen.[19]

[Note 19:!?]

If you had read my article on Velasquez, I cannot but say that you have made an unfair use of it, in quoting a detached sentence, which, read with the context, bears exactly the opposite sense from that you have quoted it as bearing.

This is a bad "throw-off" in the critical line; whether it affect "_le premier littérateur venu_" or yours always,

TOM TAYLOR.

P.S.--_As your attack on my article is public, I reserve to myself the right of giving equal publicity to this letter._

LAVENDER SWEEP, Jan, 6, 1879.

_The Position_

Dead for a ducat, dead! my dear Tom: and the rattle has reached me by post.

[Sidenote: _The World_, Jan. 15, 1879.]

"_Sans rancune_," say you? Bah! you scream unkind threats and die badly.

Why squabble over your little article? You _did_ print what I quote, you know, Tom; and it is surely unimportant what more you may have written of the Master. That you should have written anything at all is your crime.

No; shrive your naughty soul, and give up Velasquez, and pass your last days properly in the Home Office.

Set your house in order with the Government for arrears of time and paper, and leave vengeance to the Lord, who will forgive my "garbling" Tom Taylor's writing.

THE WHITE HOUSE, Jan. 8, 1879.

_Serious Sarcasm_

Pardon me, my dear Whistler, for having taken you _au sérieux_ even for a moment.

I ought to have remembered that your penning, like your painting, belongs to the region of "chaff." I will not forget it again; and meantime remain yours always,

TOM TAYLOR.

LAVENDER SWEEP, Jan. 9, 1879.

_Final_

Why, my dear old Tom, I never _was_ serious with you, even when you were among us. Indeed, I killed you quite, as who should say, without seriousness, "A rat! A rat!" you know, rather cursorily.

[Sidenote: _The World_, Jan. 15, 1879]

Chaff, Tom, as in your present state you are beginning to perceive, was your fate here, and doubtless will be throughout the eternity before you. With ages at your disposal, this truth will dimly dawn upon you; and as you look back upon this life, perchance many situations that you took _au sérieux_ (art-critic, who knows? expounder of Velasquez, and what not) will explain themselves sadly--chaff! Go back!

THE WHITE HOUSE, Jan. 10, 1879.

_"Balaam's Ass"_

[Sidenote: _Vanity Fair_, Jan 11, 1879.]

Mr. Whistler has written a discord in black and white. It is a strong saying, excellent in diction, broadly and boldly set down in slashing words....

The point Mr. Whistler raises and enforces is that criticism of painting other than by painters is monstrous, and not to be tolerated.... Mr. Ruskin's "high sounding empty things" would, he says, "give Titian the same shock of surprise that was Balaam's when the first great critic proffered his opinion." ... The inference ... is that all the world, competent and incompetent together, must receive the painter's work in silence, under pain of being classed with Balaam's ass....

If, finding himself ill received or ill understood, he has to say, "You cannot understand me," he must also say, "I did not understand myself and you, to whom I speak, sufficiently well to make you understand me."

There could be no better illustration of all this than that Mr. Whistler has suggested of Balaam's ass. _For the Ass was right_, although, nay, because he was an ass. "What have I done unto thee," said he, "that thou hast smitten me these three times?" "Because thou hast mocked me," replies Balaam--Whistler; whereupon the Angel of the Lord rebukes him and says, "_The ass saw me_," so that Balaam is constrained to bow his head and fall flat on his face. And thus indeed it is. The ass sees the Angel of the Lord there where the wise prophet sees nothing, and, by her seeing, saves the life of the very master who, for reward, smites her grievously and wishes he had a sword that he might kill her.

Let Balaam not forget that after all he rides upon the ass, that she has served him well ever since she was his until this day, and that even now he is on his way with her to be promoted unto very great honour by the Princes of Balak. And let him remember that whatever can speak may at any moment have a word to say to him which it were best he should hear.

RASPER.

_The Point acknowledged_

[Sidenote: _Vanity Fair_, Jan. 18, 1879.]

Well hit! my dear _Vanity_, and I find, on searching again, that historically you are right.

The fact, doubtless, explains the conviction of the race in their mission, but I fancy you will admit that this is the _only Ass on record_ who ever _did_ "see the Angel of the Lord!" and that we are past the age of miracles.

Yours always,

THE WHITE HOUSE, Jan. 11, 1879.

_Critic's Analysis_

[Sidenote: _The Saturday Review_, June 1, 1867. P. G. Hamerton.]

In the "Symphony in White No. III." by Mr. Whistler there are many dainty varieties of tint, but it is not precisely a symphony in white. One lady has a yellowish dress and brown hair and a bit of blue ribbon, the other has a red fan, and there are flowers and green leaves. There is a girl in white on a white sofa, but even this girl has reddish hair; and of course there is the flesh colour of the complexions.

_The Critic's Mind Considered_

How pleasing that such profound prattle should inevitably find its place in print! "Not precisely a symphony in white ... for there is a yellowish dress ... brown hair, etc.... another with reddish hair ... and of course there is the flesh colour of the complexions."

_Bon Dieu!_ did this wise person expect white hair and chalked faces? And does he then, in his astounding consequence, believe that a symphony in F contains no other note, but shall be a continued repetition of F, F, F.?... Fool!

Chelsea, June 1867.

_A Troubled One_

[Sidenote: _The World_, July 3, 1878.]

The "Season Number" of _Vanity Fair_ contains ... Mr. Whistler's etching of "St. James's Street" is sadly disappointing.

_Full Absolution_

[Sidenote: _The World_, July 10, 1878.]

Dear _World_--Atlas, overburdened with the world and its sins, may well be relieved from the weight of one wee error--a sort of last straw that bothers his back. The impression in _Vanity Fair_ that disappoints him is not an etching at all, but a reproduction for that paper by some transfer process.

Atlas has the wisdom of ages, and need not grieve himself with mere matters of art. "Il n'est pas nécessaire que vous sachiez ces choses-là, mon révérend père!"

Chelsea.

_"Confidences" with an Editor_

_TO THE EDITOR OF THE "HOUR."_

Sir,--I have read the intelligent remarks of your critic upon my pictures, and am happy to be able to remove, I think, the "melancholy" impression left upon his mind by the supposition that "the best works are not of recent date." Permit me to reassure him, for the paintings he speaks of in glowing terms--notably "the full-length portrait of a young girl," which he overwhelms me by comparing to Velasquez, as well as the two life-size portraits in black, "in which there is an almost entire negation of colour" (though I, who am, he says, a colourist, did not know it)--are my latest works, and but just completed.

May I still farther correct a misconception? The etchings and dry-points in the gallery do not form a complete set. There are only fifty exhibited, making about half the number I have executed.

Again, it was from no feeling that "my works were not seen to advantage when placed in juxtaposition with those of an essentially different kind," that I "determined to have an exhibition of my own, where no discordant elements should distract the spectator's attention." It is true that occasionally it has been borne in upon my mind that those whose "works are of an essentially different kind," are unwilling to place mine in juxtaposition with their own.

My wish has been, though, to prove that the place in which works of art are shown may be made as free from "discordant elements which distract the spectators' attention" as the works themselves.

Marvelling greatly that the "principle" that has led me (in his eyes at least) to paint so that he speaks of me in the same breath with Velasquez, should be "founded on fallacy,"--I remain, sir, your obedient servant,

June 10, 1874.

_Critics "Copy"_

[Sidenote: _The World_, Dec. 8, 1880.]

At the Gallery of the Fine Art Society in New Bond Street, an exhibition has been opened of the etchings of Venice, executed by Mr. Whistler. Exhibitions are sometimes of slender constitution nowadays. Mr. Whistler's etchings are twelve in number, of unimportant dimensions, and of the slightest workmanship. They convey a certain sense of distance and atmosphere, otherwise it cannot be said that they are of particular value or originality. They rather resemble vague first intentions, or memoranda for future use, than designs completely carried out. Probably every artist coming from Venice brings with him some such outlines as these in his sketch-books. Apparently, so far as his twelve etchings are to be considered as evidence in the matter, Venice has not deeply stirred either Mr. Whistler or his art.

_A Proposal_

[Sidenote: _The World_, Dec. 29, 1880.]

Atlas, _mon bon, méfiez-vous de vos gens!_ Your art gentleman says that Mr. Whistler exhibits twelve etchings, "slight in execution and unimportant in size." Now the private assassin you keep, for us, need not be hampered by mere connoisseurship in the perpetration of his duty--therefore, _passe_, for the execution--but he should not compromise his master's reputation for brilliancy, and print things that he who runs may scoff at.

Seriously, then, my Atlas, an etching does not depend, for its importance, upon its size. "I am not arguing with you--I am telling you." As well speak of one of your own charming _mots_ as unimportant in length!

Look to it, Atlas. Be severe with your man. Tell him his "job" should be "neatly done." I could cut my own throat better; and if need be, in case of his dismissal, I offer my services.

Meanwhile, yours joyously,

_The Painter-Etcher Papers_

[Sidenote: "A Storm in an Æsthetic Teapot."

_The Cuckoo_, April 11, 1881.]

The exhibition of etchings at the Hanover Gallery has been the occasion of one of those squabbles which amuse everybody--perhaps, even including the quarrellers themselves. Some etchings, exceedingly like Mr. Whistler's in manner, but signed "Frank Duveneck," were sent to the Painter-Etchers' Exhibition from Venice. The Painter-Etchers appear to have suspected for a moment that the works were really Mr. Whistler's; and, not desiring to be the victims of an easy hoax on the part of that gentleman, three of their members--Dr. Seymour Haden, Dr. Hamilton, and Mr. Legros--went to the Fine Art Society's Gallery, in New Bond Street, and asked one of the assistants there to show them some of Mr. Whistler's Venetian plates. From this assistant they learned that Mr. Whistler was under an arrangement to exhibit and sell his Venetian etchings only at the Fine Art Society's Gallery; but, even if these Painter-Etchers really believed that "Frank Duveneck" was only another name for James Whistler, this information about the Fine Art Society's arrangement with him need not have shaken that belief, for the _nom de plume_ might easily have been adopted with the concurrence of the society's leading spirits. Nor is it altogether certain that the Painter-Etchers did anything more than compare, for their own satisfaction as connoisseurs, the works of Mr. Whistler and "Frank Duveneck." The motive of their doing so may have been misunderstood by the Fine Art Society's assistant with whom they conferred.

Be that as it may, this assistant thought fit to repeat to Mr. Whistler what had passed, and also his own impressions as to the motive of the comparison and the inquiries which the Painter-Etchers had instituted. Whereupon Mr. Whistler has addressed a letter to Mr. Seymour Haden (who is, by the way, _his brother-in-law_), of which all that need be here said, is that it is extremely characteristic of Mr. Whistler.

_Later_

[Sidenote: _The Cuckoo_, April 30, 1881.]

Some time ago I referred to a storm in an "æsthetic tea-pot" that was brewed and had burst in the Fine Art Society's Gallery, in Bond Street, in _re_ Mr. Whistler's Venice Etchings. It seems to me that Mr. Seymour Haden, Mr. Legros, and Mr. Hamilton stumbled on an artistic mare's nest, that they rashly suggested that Mr. Whistler had been guilty of gross misfeasance in publishing etchings in an assumed name, and that they are now trying to get out of the scrape as best they may. This is, however, simply an opinion formed on perusal of the following documents, which I here present to my readers to judge of:

The following paragraph was some time ago sent to me with this letter:--

"If the Editor of the '_Cuckoo_' should see his way to the publication of the accompanying paragraph as it stands, twenty copies may be sent, for circulation among the Council of the Society of Painter-Etchers, to Mr. Piker, newsvendor, Shepherd's Market."

"MR. WHISTLER AND THE PAINTER-ETCHERS.--Our explanation of this 'Storm in a Tea-pot' turns out to have been in the main correct. It appears that not only were the three gentlemen who went to the Fine Art Society's Gallery to look at Mr. Whistler's etchings guiltless of offence, but that the object of their going there was actually less to show that Mr. Whistler _was_ than that he was _not_ the author of the etchings which for a moment had puzzled them.

"For this, indeed, they seem to have given each other--in the presence of the blundering assistant, of course--three very distinct reasons.

"Firstly, that, as already stated, Mr. Seymour Haden had quite seriously written to Mr. Duveneck to buy the etchings.

"Secondly, that they at once accepted as satisfactory and sufficient the explanation given them of Mr. Whistler's obligations to the Fine Art Society; and, thirdly, though this count appears to have somehow slipped altogether out of the indictment--they were one and all of opinion that, taken all round, the Duveneck etchings were the _best of the two (sic)_!!!

"It is a pity a clever man like Mr. Whistler is yet not clever enough to see that while habitual public attacks on a _near relative_ cannot fail to be, to the majority of people, unpalatable, they are likely to be, when directed against a brother etcher, even _suspecte_."

I did not at the time "see my way" to publishing the paragraph "as it stands," but, having subsequently received the following correspondence, I think it only right to give Mr. Piker's paragraph publicity, along with the letters subjoined:--

"THE FINE ART SOCIETY," 148 NEW BOND STREET. March 18, 1881.

[Sidenote: Letter from Mr. Huish to Mr. Haden.]

"To Seymour Haden, Esq.--My dear Sir,--Mr. Whistler has called upon me respecting your visit here yesterday with Mr. Legros and Dr. Hamilton, the purport of which had been communicated to him by Mr. Brown."

"He is naturally indignant that, knowing, as you apparently did, that he was under an engagement not to publish for a certain time any etchings of Venice except those issued by us, you should suggest that they were his work, and had been sent in by him under a _nom de plume_."

"He considers that it is damaging to his reputation in connection with us, and he requests me to write and ask you whether you adhere to your opinion or retract it."

"Believe me to remain, yours faithfully,

"MARCUS B. HUISH."

"38 HERTFORD STREET, MAYFAIR, W. March 21, 1881.

[Sidenote: Letter from Mr. Haden to Mr. Huish.]

"To M. Huish, Esq.--Dear Sir,--I am in receipt of a letter from you, dated the 18th inst., in which you first impute to me an opinion which I have never held, and then call me to account for that opinion. To a peremptory letter so framed, I shall not be misunderstood if I simply decline to plead."

"Meanwhile, that I was _not_ of opinion that the etchings in our hands were by Mr. Whistler is conclusively proved by the fact that on the day after their reception I had written to Mr. Duveneck to arrange for their purchase!"

"Be this, however, as it may, I can have no hesitation on the part both of myself and of the gentlemen engaged with me in a necessary duty, in expressing our sincere regret if, by a mistaken representation of our proceedings, Mr. Whistler has been led to believe that we had said or implied anything which could give him pain or reflect in any way on his reputation either with you or your directors."

"Faithfully yours, "F. SEYMOUR HADEN."

"ARTS CLUB," HANOVER SQUARE.

[Sidenote: Letter from J. M'N. Whistler to Mr. Haden. March 29, 1881.]

"To Seymour Haden, Esq.--Sir--Mr. Huish handed me your letter of the 21st inst., since when I have waited in vain for the true version that, I doubted not, would follow the 'mistaken representation' you regret I should have received."

"Now I must ask that you will, if possible, without further delay, give me a thorough explanation of your visit to the Fine Art Society's Gallery on Friday evening, the 17th inst.,--involving, as it did, a discussion of my private affairs."

"Did you, accompanied by M. Legros and Dr. Hamilton, call at the Fine Art Society's rooms on that date, and ask to see Mr. Whistler's etchings?"

"Did you there proceed to make a careful and minute examination of these, and then ask Mr. Brown if Mr. Whistler had done other etchings of Venice?"

"Upon his answer in the affirmative, did you ask Mr. Brown if any of the other plates were large ones, and, notably, whether Mr. Whistler had done any other plate of the subject called 'The Riva'?"