y francs.

Another masterpiece in the Hague Gallery is a small painting by Gerard
Dou, the painter of the celebrated "Dropsical Woman," which hangs in the
Louvre between pictures by Raphael and Murillo. He is one of the greatest
painters of the home-life of the Dutch, and the most patient of the
patient artists of his country. The picture simply represents a woman
seated near a window, with a cradle by her side; but in this humble scene
there is such a sweet and holy air of domestic peace, a repose so
profound, a love so harmonious, that the most obstinate bachelor on earth
could not look on it without feeling an irresistible desire to be the one
for whom the wife is waiting in that quiet, clean room, or at least to
enter it secretly for a moment, even though he remain hidden in the
shadow, if so he might breathe the perfume of the innocent happiness of
this sanctuary. This picture, like all the works of Dou, is painted with
that wonderful finish which he carries almost to excess, which was
certainly carried to excess by Slingelandt, who worked three years
continuously in painting the Meerman family. This style afterward
degenerated into that smooth, affected, painful mannerism where the
figures are like ivory, the skies enamel, and the fields velvet, of which
Van der Werff is the best known representative. Among other things to be
seen in this picture by Dou is a broom-handle, the size of a pen-holder,
on which they say the artist worked assiduously for three days. This does
not seem strange when we reflect that every minute filament, the grain,
the knots, spots, dents, and finger-marks are all reproduced. Anecdotes
of his superhuman patience are recounted which are scarcely credible. It
is said he was five days in copying the hand of a Madam Spirings whose
portrait he painted. Who knows how long he was painting her head? The
unhappy creatures who wished to be painted by him were driven to madness.
It is believed that he ground his colors himself, and made his own
brushes, and that he kept everything hermetically closed, so that no
particle of dust could reach his work. When he entered his studio he
opened the door slowly, sat down with great deliberation, and then
remained motionless until the least sign of agitation produced by the
exercise had ceased. Then he began to paint, using concave glasses to
reduce the objects in size. This continual effort ended by injuring his
sight, so that he was obliged to work with spec