portraits
he appeared not to be raised upon that platform, but to descend to it
from a higher sphere. His paintings illustrate his lessons, and his
lessons seem to be derived from his paintings. He possessed the theory
as perfectly as the practice of his art. To be such a painter, he was a
profound and penetrating philosopher."

* * * * *

THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH (1727-1788), whose name we can seldom help thinking
of whenever we hear that of Reynolds, was in many ways the very
antithesis of his more illustrious rival. In his private life he most
certainly was, and so far as his practical influence on his
contemporaries is concerned, he is altogether overshadowed by the first
President of the Royal Academy. With respect to their works there is a
diversity of opinion, and it is largely a matter of personal feeling
whether we prefer those of the one or of the other. Both were great
artists, and on the common ground of portraiture they contended so
equally, and in some cases with such similarity of method, that it is
impossible to say impartially which was the greater. How is it possible
to decide except on the ground of individual taste, as to whether we
would rather lose Gainsborough or Reynolds as a portrait painter,
without considering for a moment that the former was a great landscape
painter as well? And, putting aside Wilson, whose landscape was
essentially Italian, whether executed in Italy or not, the first
landscape painter in England was Gainsborough. We are so accustomed to
bracket him with Reynolds as a great portrait painter, so thrilled over
the sale of a Gainsborough portrait for many thousands of pounds, that
we are apt to forget him altogether as a landscape painter. And yet two
or three of his best works in the National Gallery are landscapes, and
two of them at least famous ones--_The Market Cart_ and _The Watering
Place_. How many more beautiful landscapes by him there must be in
existence it is impossible to say, but there can be no doubt that there
are not a few which are only waiting their turn for a fashionable
market, but are now reposing unappreciated in private hands. In the
Metropolitan Museum at New York is a splendid example, the like of which
I have never seen in this country, but which is so much closer in
feeling to his numerous drawings and sketches in chalk or pencil that it
is impossible to believe that no similar examples exist. If we could
only bring them