ter, there is
hardly a portrait in existence that is valued for anything but its
historic or personal interest. Between Holbein and Van Dyck is a great
gap, in which the only names of Englishmen are those of the
miniaturists, Hilliard and Oliver, who were veritably of the seed of
Holbein, but only in little.

Van Dyck struck deeper into the English soil, and loosened it
sufficiently for the growth of larger stuff, if still somewhat coarse,
like the work of William Dobson and Robert Walker. To Van Dyck succeeded
Peter Lely, who boldly and worthily assumed the mantle of Van Dyck, and
kept English portraiture alive throughout the dismal period of the
Commonwealth. After the Restoration he was still in power, and under him
flourished one or two painters of English birth, like Greenhill and
Riley, who in turn gave way to others under Kneller without ceding the
monopoly to foreigners. From these came Jervas, Richardson, and, most
important, Hudson, who was Reynolds's master, and so we arrive at the
beginning of what is now generally known as the English School.

Another source, however, must here be mentioned as joining the main
stream, and contributing a solid body of water to it, chiefly below the
surface, namely the art of WILLIAM HOGARTH. Being essentially English,
and without any artistic forefathers, it is not surprising that he left
less perceptible impressions on his immediate successors than the more
accomplished and educated Reynolds; but the solid force of his
character, as exemplified in his career and his works, is hardly a less
important factor in the development of the English School, while from
his outspoken opinions on the state of the arts in his time he is one of
the most valuable sources of its history.

II

WILLIAM HOGARTH

WILLIAM HOGARTH occupies a curious position in the history of English
painting. There was nothing ever quite like him in any country--except
Greuze in France; for though a comparison between two such opposites,
seems at first sight absurd, it must be remembered that French and
English painting in the middle of the eighteenth century were no less
far apart. Both Greuze and Hogarth, in their own fashion, tried to
preach moral lessons in paint, the one in the over-refined atmosphere of
French surroundings, the other in the coarse language of England in his
time.

Hogarth's chief characteristic was his blunt, honest, bull-dog
Englishness, which at the particular moment of h