vital proof than the bosom of
the wife of Diomedes moulded by the ashes of Pompeii. And if this grace
is animated by Watteau, if he looses it from repose and immobility, if
he renders it active and moving, it seems that it works with a rhythm
and that its measured pace is a dance led by some harmony.

How decorative is the form of woman, and her grace! O nature, wherein
the painter's poetic fancies wander! O landscape! O stage fit for a
desirable life! a helpful land, gallant woods, meadows full of music,
groves propitious to the sports of Echo! cradling trees hung with
baskets of flowers! desert places far from the jealous world, touched by
the magic brush of a Servandoni, refreshed with fountains, peopled with
marbles and statues, and Naiads, that spot the trembling shadow of the
leaves! jets of water suddenly springing up in the midst of farm-yards!
an amiable and radiant countryside! Suns of apotheosis, beautiful lights
sleeping on the lawns, penetrating and translucent verdure without one
shadow where the palette of Veronese, the riot of purple, and of blonde
tresses may find sleep. Rural delights! murmurous and gorgeous
decorations! gardens thick with brier and rose! French landscapes
planted with Italian pines! villages gay with weddings and carriages,
ceremonies, toilettes, and fetes stunned with the noise of violins and
flutes leading the bridal of Nature and the Opera to a Jesuit fane!
Rustic scene on the green curtain, on the flowery slope up which the
_Comedie Francaise_ climbs and the _Comedie Italienne_ gambols.

Quick! to array the spring in ball costume, Watteau's heavens and earth,
quick. _Gelosi!_ A bergomask laugh shall be the laughter, animation, and
action, and movement of the piece. Look where Folly, capped and belled,
runs and wakes gaiety, zephyrs, and noise! Ruffs and caps, belts and
daggers, little vests and short mantles, go and come. The band of
buffoons comes running, bringing beneath the shady boughs the carnival
of human passions and its rainbow-hued garb. Variegated family, clothed
with sunlight and brilliant silk! that masks with the night! that
patches and paints with the moon! Harlequin, as graceful as a product of
the pencil of Parmesan! Pierrot, with his arms at his side, as straight
as an I, and the Tartaglias, and the Scapins, and the Cassandras, and
the Doctors, and the favourite Mezzetin "the big brown man with the
laughing face" always in the foreground with his cap on the back