t, and stayed more within it; he provided it with all sorts of
conveniences, caressed it, made much of it; he liked to look out from
his well-stopped windows at the falling snow and the drenching rain, and
to hug himself with the thought, "Rage, tempest, I am warm and safe!"
Snug in his shell, his faithful housewife beside him, his children about
him, he passed the long autumn and winter evenings in eating much,
drinking much, smoking much, and taking his well-earned ease after the
cares of the day were over. The Dutch painters represented these houses
and this life in little pictures proportionate to the size of the walls
on which they were to hang; the bedchambers that make one feel a desire
to sleep, the kitchens, the tables set out, the fresh and smiling faces
of the house-mothers, the men at their ease around the fire; and with
that conscientious realism which never forsakes them, they depict the
dozing cat, the yawning dog, the clucking hen, the broom, the
vegetables, the scattered pots and pans, the chicken ready for the spit.
Thus they represent life in all its scenes, and in every grade of the
social scale--the dance, the _conversazione_, the orgie, the feast, the
game; and thus did Terburg, Metzu, Netscher, Dow, Mieris, Steen,
Brouwer, and Van Ostade become famous.

After depicting the house, they turned their attention to the country.
The stern climate allowed but a brief time for the admiration of nature,
but for this very reason Dutch artists admired her all the more; they
saluted the spring with a livelier joy, and permitted that fugitive
smile of heaven to stamp itself more deeply on their fancy. The country
was not beautiful, but it was twice dear because it had been torn from
the sea and from the foreign oppressor. The Dutch artist painted it
lovingly; he represented it simply, ingenuously, with a sense of
intimacy which at that time was not to be found in Italian or Belgian
landscape. The flat, monotonous country had, to the Dutch painter's
eyes, a marvelous variety. He caught all the mutations of the sky, and
knew the value of the water, with its reflections, its grace and
freshness, and its power of illuminating everything. Having no
mountains, he took the dikes for background; with no forests, he
imparted to a single group of trees all the mystery of a forest; and he
animated the whole with beautiful animals and white sails.

The subjects of their pictures are poor enough,--a windmill, a canal, a
g