r dying,
peace, though not void of pain, is the pervading expression.

Overbeck, after the goodly habit of the old masters, was fond of
introducing himself as a spectator in the sacred scenes he depicted, and
thus the above list of portraits is considerably extended. The painter
appears personally in _Christ's Entry into Jerusalem_; also, in company
with his friends Cornelius and Veit, he joins the general assembly of
artists in _The Triumph of Religion_. Again, in _The Gospels_ the devout
painter is present at the Crucifixion, bent on his knees, the hands
clasped, his eyes gazing on Christ upon the Cross. Overbeck was not thus
the egotist or a man craving for glory, but merely the humblest of
servants seeking some inconspicuous place among the followers of Christ,
and desiring to be numbered with God's elect.

I have endeavoured, though perhaps very imperfectly, to lay before the
reader a picture of Overbeck as the artist and the man, and now little
remains save a few general conclusions. I have anxiously tried to
ascertain the painter's mode of work, and the successive steps by which
he matured his compositions. This inquiry has proved all the more
difficult, because drawings in their early stages were persistently kept
out of view. The artist had two studios, the one strictly private for
quiet incubation apart; the other public, wherein only finished products
were shown. The question is, how consummate designs such as _The
Gospels_ were elaborated. I find that Overbeck first revolved a subject
in his thoughts until he had formed a distinct mental conception; this
inward vision he would sometimes for months carry about with him, within
the house and in his walks abroad. At last, when it had taken shape, he
sketched out the idea with lead pencil on a small piece of paper; and,
just in proportion as the first process had been tentative and slow, so
was the final act swift and certain. In these supreme moments he had the
power of throwing off his innermost thoughts without aids from the outer
world: the lines flowed from his pencil rapidly when he had made up his
mind what to do, and the forms once set down were seldom changed. The
facility increased rather than lessened with years; thus we read, "At
the age of seventy-two I create with undiminished freshness and
pleasure." As soon as the first small sketch was complete, the usual
method was followed of squaring out the surface with lines, in order to
reproduce in charc