they have erected to their faiths,
and the works whereon they have left the mark of their genius, were
suppressed from history. It is with people as with men--after death only
the emanations of their mind remain; that is to say, literature and art,
written poems, and poems inscribed on stone, in marble or in color."

The same writer, in his admirable book, _Grammaire des arts du dessin,_
from which we are tempted to quote again and again, says: "The artist
who limits himself simply to the imitation of Nature reaches only
_individuality_: he is a slave. He who interprets Nature sees in her
happy qualities; he evolves _character_ from her; he is master. The
artist who idealizes her discovers in her or imprints upon her the image
of _beauty_: this last is a great master.... Placed between Nature and
the ideal, between what is and what must be, the artist has a vast
career before him in order to pass from the reality he sees to the
beauty he divines. If we follow him in this career, we see his model
transform itself successively before his eyes.... But the artist must
give to these creations of his soul the imprint of life, and he can only
find this imprint in the individuals Nature has created. The two are
inseparable--the type, which is a product of thought, and the
individual, which is a child of life."

With this excellent analysis before us, we will recall one by one some
of the best-known and most interesting works of W.M. Hunt, a painter who
now holds a prominent place among the artists of America. We will try to
discover by careful observation if the high gifts of Verity and
Imagination, the sign and seal of the true artist, really belong to him:
if so, where these qualities are expressed, and what value we should set
upon them.

First, perhaps, for those readers remote from New England who may never
have seen any pictures by this artist, a few words should be said by way
of describing some characteristics of his work and the limitations of
it; which limitations are rather loudly dwelt upon by connoisseurs and
lovers of the popular modern French school. Artists discern these
limitations of course more keenly even than others, but their tribute to
verity and ideal beauty as represented by this painter is too sincere to
allow caviling to find expression. This limitation to which we refer
causes Mr. Hunt to allow _ideal suggestions_, rather than pictures, to
pass from his studio, and makes him cowardly before his own