e forced his art upon his commercial,
though heroic public.

One thing especially it is interesting to notice about the Dutch
portraits of the early Republican period, namely, that they are
obviously inspired by the pleasure of having a living, speaking likeness
rather than by pride and ostentation. Bluff and swaggering as some of
Hals's portraits of men appear to be--notably _The Laughing Cavalier_,
at Hertford House--that is only because the subjects were bluff and
swaggering fellows--swaggering, that is to say, in the consciousness of
their ability and their readiness to defend their country and their
homes again, if need be, against the tyrant. But these swaggerers are
the exception, and the prevailing impression conveyed is that of
honest, if determined, bluffness. They are not posing, these jolly
Dutchmen, they are sitting or standing, for Hals to paint them just as
they would sit or stand to be measured for a suit of clothes. Look at
the heads of the man and the woman in the National Gallery. Could
anything be more natural and unassuming? Look at the _Laughing
Cavalier_, and ask if it is not the man himself, as Hals saw and knew
him, not a faked up hero? Hals caught him in his best clothes, that is
all. He did not put them on to be painted in--he was out on a jaunt.
Look at Hals's women, how pleased they are to be painted, just as they
are.

Poor Hals, he was a good, honest fellow, though sadly given to drink and
low company. But for sheer genius he has never had an equal. The vast
number of his paintings--many of which now only exist in copies--shows
that with every predilection to ease and comfort, he could not help
painting--it simply welled out of him. It was a natural gift which seems
to have needed no labour and no study.

It is certain that this fecundity was a very potent factor in the
development of the Dutch School of painting. Had Hals confined his
talent to painting the portraits of the highest in the land, which would
never have been seen by the public at large, it is improbable that such
a business-like community would have produced many painters. But Hals
must have popularised painting much more than we generally suppose. An
example occurs to me in the picture of _The Rommelpot Player_, of which
no less than thirteen versions are enumerated by De Groot, none of which
can claim to be the original. One is at Wilton, another in Sir Frederick
Cook's gallery at Richmond, and a third at Arthingworth H