ART.
THE NATIONAL GALLERY.
THE occasion given by the Wynn-Ellis bequest to the nation has been taken advantage of, and a thorough rearrangement of pictures made at the much-abused building which we have hitherto been content to point out to our children and strangers as the National Gallery. Perhaps in the opinion of some of us, it would have been wiser not to have spent so much money in the vain endeavour to make an ugly thing beautiful, and unless the art of Painting is to be supposed at an end, it is evident that in a few years the space, which even now, with the late additions, is manifestly inadequate, will be far too small to contain the pictures. Indeed, as we shall have occasion to point out presently, in some cases the pictures are not so much hung as stacked, which, how- ever good an arrangement for hop-poles, is not a desirable one for paintings. First, however, let us glance through the rooms, and notice a few of the more important changes. They begin directly we enter the door, the first picture that strikes the eye being Haydon's "May Day." The whole Vernon Gallery has been moved here from the South Kensington Museum, and doubtless it is in its proper place. There are, in this first room, two landscapes, hung next each other, which illustrate very forcibly the two ex- treme styles of English painting,—the old and the new. The first is a scene in Cumberland, by Loutherbourg, treated in what may perhaps be called the "mud-pie fashion ;" yet an honest attempt at painting nature, only the artist could see no colour, possibly despised it, if he did see it, and preferred an inky sky and a dull landscape. Immediately below this is a painting of Jerusalem and the Volley of Jehoshaphat, by Thomas Seddon, one of the best examples of the modern pre-Raphaelite school. The scene has been painted under a hot sun, which brings out every detail of the rocky valley with photographic distinctness, and the whole, as an effect of Eastern sunlight, is perfectly truth- ful. This is, we believe, almost the only example of the modern pre-Raphaelites which is to be found in the Gallery, and it should be noticed that one work in a National Gallery affords hardly a sufficient representation of one of the most important movements in Art of the present century. In this room, too, are two of the most perfect of Mulre,ady's life-studies, and of the kind it is difficult to imagine anything more beautiful than the one of the seated woman. The next room is still in process of arrange- ment, and will consist of Turners, chiefly water-colours. The next room is devoted to the Vernon Gallery, and contains all the old favourites, too numerous and too well known to mention ; though it would be pleasant to linger with Turner by Lake Avernus, or drink a parting-cup with Wilkie at "The Village Festival." It should be noticed in passing, how wonderfully well the two pictures by Old Chrome look in this new arrangement ; especially the one of "Mousehold Heath," which is a fine specimen of thorough sympathy with what would be to most an uninteresting subject.
In the fourth room are the Ettys and the Mulreadys, the former being arranged in a group at the end of the room. The hanging of these first rooms is indeed first-rate throughout, and Mr. Burton is to be congratulated upon the perfect success with which he has accomplished a:most difficult task. In the fifth room we have a number of large historical and subject-pictures,- Ward's "Johnson Waiting for Lord Chesterfield," and "The South-Sea Bubble ;" with Rosa Bonheur's "Horse Fair," and Maclise's great picture from Hamlet ; and besides these, a whole series of Laudseers, including "Dignity and Impudence," "Peace and War," and many others. The small picture in a corner, by David Roberts, of the staircase in Burgos Cathedral, is always a treat, and should not be overlooked.
Coming to the sixth room, we come also to the great blot of the whole arrangement, and it is so great a one, that we almost feel inclined to doubt whether we would not have preferred the old hanging, with all its faults. If there is one painter more than another whom England should be delighted to honour; that painter is Turner ; not only for his munificence to the nation, nor for his long life of unwearied toil and patient industry, nor even for his magnificent genius, which has given to our country the finest landscape painter in the world, but because wlulehe was
with us, for the greater part of his life, he was neglected, mis- understood, and ridiculed, till, as his one champion said, "he was left to his quiet death at Chelsea, the sun upon his face ; they to bury, with a threefold honour, his body at Westminster Abbey, his pictures at Charing Cross, and his purposes in Chancery." To say of the present hanging of the Turner Gallery that it is a disgrace to the National Gallery and the nation at large, is not saying a whit too much. The pictures are huddled together in one enormous room, without the slightest pretension to artistic effect, or even common regard to harmony of colour. For instance, " Childe Harold's Pilgrimage" and "The Bay of Balm" are two of Turner's most- delicately beautiful works, the former perhaps unsurpassed ; imme- diately on the top of this picture, without the slightest space be- tween them, is placed one of the most. flaring, unfinished paintings of the whole Turner series, which absolutely destroys the pic- ture below. Again, by the side of the above-mentioned picture is hung "The Old Temeraire," and immediately above it the "Steamer in a Snow-storm ;" on the top of that is hung "Rain, Steam, and Speed ;" and above that again, fifteen or twenty feet above the spectator's head, is "Going to the Ball," the celebrated Venetian scene. But it is the same thing throughout the room ; one enormous sea-piece is piled on the top of .another of the same. size, and no space whatever left between any of the pictures. The only part of the room where there is any unity of colour is. at one end, where the "Crossing the Brook" is surrounded by the "Frosty Morning," "The Goddess of Discord," and some. others.
We understand that Mr. Burton is not responsible for the arrangement of this room, and indeed, from the excellent manner in which he has hung the other pictures, he could hardly have had anything to do with it. We have been informed that it was Mr. Wornum who hung the Turners, and if so, they are a real discredit to his taste and judgment. In. future, we hope that he will confine himself to his labours on the Catalogue, and his writings for the Portfolio. It is quite possi- ble that he was only allowed the one room, and had to squeeze the pictures in somehow ; but even so, there can be no excuse. for the juxtaposition of some of the pictures. It seems strange. that for all other English and foreign painters we can afford: space to allow their pictures to be seen properly, but that when it comes to hanging the works of our greatest land- scape painter, it should be done more carelessly and badly than in Messrs. Christie's sale-rooms. Almost the only Turner that looks well is the Ulysses deriding Polyphemus, and that would probably look well anywhere, as it used to look as. well in comparative obscurity as it does now in a strong light.. Passing from the Turner Gallery, we arrive at the various rooms. devoted to the Foreign Schools, in the first of which are the. two famous Turners, enclosed as before by the equally famous Claudes. Every one knows the clause in Turner's will owing to which this arrangement was made. The merest look at these. pictures after the Turner Gallery will show any one the difference between hanging pictures and merely huddling them together, for neither the " Goddess of Discord" nor "The Old Temeraire " in the prior room appears half so striking as do these two com- paratively inferior ones, owing to the way they are hung.
There will probably be much controversy about the green- marble pillars and red walls, and lavish black-and-gold ornaments of the cornice and arches of the octagonal room beneath the dome. But we confess that to our mind it is a step, though perhaps a somewhat rash one, in the right direction. The National Gallery is made, at all events (with the exception above remarked on), more of what a national home for the Arts should be ; a place, that is to say, richly decorated and carefully kept, where painters. should feel honoured by finding their works, and of which England has no reason to feel ashamed. The vast majority of the pictures have never looked so well or been hung so well. As examples of this, take Ilogarth's "Marriage h la Mode," or Gainsborough's. "Parish Clerk." Many of the pictures, too, have been reframed, or had their frames regilt, and the place has altogether a revivi- fied dared-for look which is very refreshing to witness.
Of course, the only additions of any great importance, are the pictures bequeathed by Mr. Wynn Ellis, which are hung in a. separate room, at the end of the Foreign Schools. It is not our intention to do more than just mention one or two of these. Of the great majority there is little to be said. There are several Ruysdaels, most of them inferior ; and one or two Hobbemas, of similar quality. There is a very interesting portrait by Hans Pilemling of himself, in high conical cap and long brown robe. It is a somewhat humorous, sensitive face, and is painted with all the strength and care usual with this artist. He has certainly not flattered himself, but painted every line and wrinkle conscientiously. There seems a wonderful earnestness about some of the painters of the Memling and Van Eyck schools, which renders all their work interesting, and always preserves them from producing an absurd effect, notwithstanding many little conventionalities. For two delicious little bits of grey sea, the small Vandeveldes in this collection are hardly to be excelled ; we almost seem to feel the crisp sea-breeze that is driving the little fishing-smacks out of harbour in the one, and in the other the great ships lie motionless -on the clear grey water, producing a feeling as if it were impossible they should ever be tossed about like feathers by the fury of the wind and waves. This sensation of the immovability of a great ship will be familiar to any one who has seen many of them in port on a calm day. There is a charming little picture of Paul Potter's here entitled "The Old Hunter," but we have no space to linger over its de- scription or that of the Greuze, also a fine example of that somewhat monotonous master, but must pass to the great gem of the collection, "The Money-changers," by Quintin Matays. The subject is simple enough ; two men, in the quaint costume of their time and country, seated in their office, busy over the day's accounts. The elder is writing in a parchment folio, the younger, apparently his assistant, fingering a pile of gold and silver. The scribe is dressed in a dark, claret- coloured robe, trimmed with fur, and has on one of the fantastic head-dresses of the period, of a vivid scarlet. The younger man is clothed in a crimson robe, also trimmed with fur, and a dark head- dress. Behind, are the panels of the wooden safe, and the walls and door of the apartment. The top of the safe is heaped with old parch- ments in wild confusion, a half-burnt-out candle, and various litter. No words can do justice to the marvellous brilliancy of colour and firmness of execution of this picture. The scarlet and crimson of the robe and cap are as vivid as if painted yesterday ; the tumbled heap of gold and silver pieces tempt you to take them up, and ling them separately, as their possessors, no doubt, have just been doing ; and the parchment ledger, with its open leaf already half-covered with entries, is a wonder of imitative skill. But the chief merit of this picture is that the artist has by no means stopped short at imitative art. For wonderful as is the painting of wood, and cloth, and metal, it is only at the first glance that it is noticed ; the great interest of the picture is in the faces of the two money-changers, and in them Quintin Matsys has written plainly two things,—a history and a warning,—a history of lives spent in the unceasing toil for mere wealth, wealth sought for its own sake, without a care for its wise, generous, or noble uses. In these faces is to be found no token of the humanities or the graces of life, nothing of love, help, or sympathy ; nothing save hard, unbending selfishness. Though they sat in the panelled chamber for ever, nothing could ever come to them but more heaps of scattered coin. The warning is too plain to be mistaken. Even if the exact type of the money- changer be extinct, and though no one would think of painting the modern bureau de change, the spirit is the same, and the modern speculator, with coats from Poole, and a gardenia in his button- hole, is perhaps little removed in reality from these two medimval money-grubbers, whom Quintin Matsys caught and painted four centuries ago.
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