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erally attribute to the painter. But here lies is true; his landscapes pure and simple are the great, the lovable fact about Diaz. With not half so strong in numbers: but in spite all his troubles, with all his pain, with all his of this, the first picture by Diaz to which it fiery declamation over the incidents of his seems fairest to refer in this place is a cerlife, he remained unspoiled, remained a gentle, tain composition called «The Bather, which winning nature, responsive to the most subtly hangs in one of the great private galleries of poetic appeals of the forest to which he had London. The single figure in the design, consecrated himself, and quick to feel the though to assert that, after all, Diaz should most delicate emotions. Thus there existed have been a landscapist and nothing else, is in him, with more definiteness than most men so swiftly and broadly brushed in that it has experience, absolute sunshine and absolute no charm of individuality whatever. You feel shadow, the one playing ceaselessly over the that this peasant woman, seated at her abluother, and drawing from it strength and power. tions on the brink of a sedgy pool in the late His abundance of gaiety as an artist, there- afternoon, is the merest accident in the scene. fore, is never to be taken as mere superficial The scene itself is the thing. Mossy rocks rise contentment with things of gaiety and light- from the edge of the pool on one side, and ness. Fixed firm in his belief in the more break the transition from still, smooth water serious elements of his nature, he gave him to the thick grove beyond. On the other side self with delightful elasticity, delightful in- of the pool, to the left, where the bather sits, genuousness, to the sunny walks of life and the land is heaved up in grass-grown rocky art. Diaz was beyond a doubt capable of pro- strata until the sky-line is reached above the found feeling. The volubility, the stormy talk, low trees and brushwood well toward the top of which his friends have left such entertain- of the canvas. The principal characterising records, was not the mere froth and fumetics of this painting are among the very

first of a volatile Frenchman. Under it all he pos- virtues of Diaz-a straightforward massing sessed a warm, generous nature, a sympathy of foreground, middle distance, and highest which, much more legitimately than his sensu- plane; a natural but extremely artistic and ous delight in color, carries us close to the es- picturesque distribution of light and shade; sential character of his art.

and a most exact gradation of color and texIt is significant that that art was formed ture in the evolution of the work through its most systematically and persistently upon deep and even solemn perspective. Diaz the art of Rousseau. For the idyllic, tenderly might be more brilliant than he is in this poetic sentiment of Corot he undoubtedly had landscape, but he could not be truer or more a sensitive taste, and in a way was nearer to an artist; he could not be a worthier devotee that sentiment than to the vigorous feeling of the sylvan solitude in which he wandered of Rousseau. Nevertheless, the latter touched for the greater part of his life. him on his more thoughtful side, stirred him It may be objected that solitude is hardly more deeply than did any other painter of his the word for a forest in which Diaz was so time, and left a more definite mark upon his constantly seeing groups of laughing figures. art. In the beginning there was in Diaz the But the answer is easily found. If he saw indecision, the lack of definitive aim, which them, it was because he put them there. His often belongs to a masterless painter. But landscape is that of the forest of Fontainewhen he fell under the spell of Rousseau he bleau; his people come from a dreamland of began to try for a more scientific crystalliza- his own. Did he ever really see the men and tion of material in his work. Left to himself, women who come in graceful procession down he might have worked out his instinctive through the shining glade of «La Descente theory that one should overlay upon life all des Bohémiens,» and did he actually behold the sunshine possible, and this might have the wood-cutter who stoops over his task in made him purely a painter of lyric, fugitive more than one of the gleaming «forest inmotives, an artist for whom a group of airy teriors » ? Perhaps. It is conceivable that he figures, a nymph with one or two Loves about used models; it is even most probable. But her, held all the substance that a picture by the time he had dismissed them they were needed to hold. He might have kept his ten- metamorphosed on the canvas, and had asderness, his poetic insight, for purposes other sumed in their lovely environment the air we than artistic. Rousseau came at this junc- know so well--an air of innocence, of rustiture, and made him something more than a city unsophisticated but cleanly, of graceful painter of lovely genre-made him a great artlessness. This was fair play in the eyes of landscapist, one of the greatest France has Diaz, and his public feels no cause for comproduced. His genre panels are countless, it plaint. The landscape envelops the figures,

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and the hues and odors of the forest cling to tion of handling color with a grip and a magic their slightly unreal forms. Unreal they are, that have rarely been even remotely rivaled. if you like, but so in the last sense is the The important fact to observe is that he forest itself, a wonderful place of quivering never descended to the tricks of the mere leaves and strangely cracking twigs, and a juggler. Recognize that, and you can revel humming, rustling, panting, gleaming life in Diaz as one revels in Monticelli, only the that penetrates to the roots of your nature revel lasts longer. It lasts longer because, long with poignant reality, and yet steals over after pure flaming color would have lost its you like a phantóm thing-like some dim power of attraction, these gorgeous panels, fairyland into which one has strayed without with their thick impasto, hold the imagination losing one's accustomed five senses. In such and lead the eye vaguely, dreamily, into the a place as this some little unreality in the depths of a forest which might be Fontainefigures is more than forgivable: it is neces- bleau, which certainly is a living, murmurous sary. Diaz proves it by making even a finer wood, but which ought to declare itself the impression with figures altogether unreal. veritable home of nymphs and amorini, of He brings « Diane Chasseresse » upon the smiling, fleeing damsels too swift to be overscene, and with her a court of bewitching taken, of flowers too fragrant to lose their maidens, Cupid at her side, and such a charm fragrance, though the seasons come and go of loveliness and gleaming beauty flung about and the leaves prepare to fall

. They do not the whole that the very dogs that leap beside fall. Sometimes Diaz painted the autumn, the huntress lose their ferocious aspect and and painted it with a full appreciation of its become one with the poetic glamour of the maturity of loveliness; but as a rule he lives scene. Here begins the art of the colorist of in the summer, gives his fairy figures balmy which we have heard so much in Diaz. He airs and mellow sunshine, and seems fairly to has worked lovingly and searchingly over riot in the gaiety, the beauty, the lightness, the remote woody haunt in which his figures and the youth of his merry world. It is his stand, and now, with the coming of those world. The first and the last thing to reenchanted and enchanting visitors, he lets his member is that it is nature's world too-a love of gorgeous hues spring out and have world which he could never have created free play. Tube after tube he empties upon without long hours of communion with the the palette, brush after brush is snatched up eternal woods and springs. To any one who by his nimble fingers; even then the color really cares for Diaz there is peculiar comwill not come swiftly enough, and the palette- fort in this last reflection. It is a precious knife is called into service. The paint goes thing to which to return in the face of that on in layers, and the silvery flesh of the dryad maddeningly familiar conception of him which which he paints grows warmer and firmer, would place him somewhere between a craftsthe flowers in her hair grow brighter, the man in mosaic and a child turning a kaleidodrapery flung from her shoulder takes, in scope gleefully about in his hands. The true one bold, passionate stroke, a quivering life picture by Diaz has always the tang of nature of color into its texture, and the picture is in it. For a man so frankly fond of elusive, complete: the record of an inspiration begun magical themes he has extraordinary vitality. in meditative contemplation of a lovely scene, This is because he had an extraordinary gift and developed further and further, until the for throwing himself heart and soul into the fervor of the artist rises into a species of scene he wished to paint. He flooded his canhappy intoxication, and you get the ravish- vases with the richest golden light; he peopled ing art which makes Diaz a master.

them with fantastic personages; he made his We have shown the fallacy of supposing composition minister to his sense of color, of that color was meat and drink to Diaz, the poetry, of fanciful and mysterious things: but sole raison d'être of the painter's work. He he remained a landscape-painter-as has been was first of all a serious interpreter of nature; said above, one of the greatest France has but this does not deprive him of the distinc- ever produced.

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[The following account of the crowning of the late Czar is by a daughter of Sir Edward Thornton, who in 1881 terminated his thirteen years' tenure of the British Legation to the United States to accept the position of ambassador to Russia. In addition to its intrinsic interest, it is expected that it will be of assistance to readers interested in the approaching coronation

of the Czar Nicholas, as we are authoritatively informed that the ceremonial in all essential respects is likely to be identical. The illustrations of the ceremonies are from the official record which was issued by the Russian government. -EDITOR.]

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ST. PETERSBURG, April 12 (March 31) [1883].

YESTERDAY the regalia for the coronation were despatched to Moscow, the procession of carriages containing the crowns and scepter being escorted to the station by various dignitaries, and by a detachment of

the Chevaliers Gardes. It was supposed to be a sight; but there was no band, and the gilded coaches were black! Old General de Glinka has charge of the regalia as far as Moscow, where Prince Dolgoroukov meets him and takes possession. Another procession conducts them to their destination in the ancient capital, and there, as here, people bare their heads along the route.

This observance, and the sobriety of the ceremonial yesterday, perhaps give an indication of the very religious character of a Russian coronation. The Czar, be it noted, is

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