ing space with lines
is well shown in his illustrations to the Book of Job. In grace of
form and feeling of motion he was excellent. Weird and uncanny in
thought, delving into the unknown, he opened a world of mystery,
peopled with a strange Apocalyptic race, whose writhing, flowing
bodies are the epitome of graceful grandeur.

[Illustration: FIG. 97.--CONSTABLE. CORN FIELD. NAT. GAL. LONDON.]

GENRE-PAINTERS: From Blake to Morland (1763-1804) is a step across
space from heaven to earth. Morland was a realist of English country
life, horses at tavern-doors, cattle, pigs. His life was not the most
correct, but his art in truthfulness of representation, simplicity of
painting, richness of color and light, was often of a fine quality. As
a skilful technician he stood quite alone in his time, and seemed to
show more affinity with the Dutch _genre_-painters than his own
countrymen. His works are much prized to-day, and were so during the
painter's life.

Sir David Wilkie (1785-1841) was also somewhat like the Dutch in
subject, a _genre_-painter, fond of the village fete and depicting it
with careful detail, a limpid brush, and good textural effects. In
1825 he travelled abroad, was gone some years, was impressed by
Velasquez, Correggio, and Rembrandt, and completely changed his style.
He then became a portrait and historical painter. He never outlived
the nervous constraint that shows in all his pictures, and his brush,
though facile within limits, was never free or bold as compared with a
Dutchman like Steen. In technical methods Landseer (1802-1873), the
painter of animals, was somewhat like him. That is to say, they both
had a method of painting surfaces and rendering textures that was more
"smart" than powerful. There is little solidity or depth to the
brush-work of either, though both are impressive to the spectator at
first sight. Landseer knew the habits and the anatomy of animals very
well, but he never had an appreciation of the brute in the animal,
such as we see in the pictures of Velasquez or the bronzes of Barye.
The Landseer animal has too much sentiment about it. The dogs, for
instance, are generally given those emotions pertinent to humanity,
and which are only exceptionally true of the canine race. This very
feature--the tendency to humanize the brute and make it tell a
story--accounts in large measure for the popularity of Landseer's art.
The work is perhaps correct enough, but the aim of it is somewhat