etter than M. Delacroix's, in
which we see an outbreak of talent, a burst of rising superiority which
revives the hopes that had been slightly discouraged by the too moderate
merits of all the rest.... I think I am not mistaken; M. Delacroix has
genius; let him go on with confidence, and devote himself to immense
labour, the indispensable condition of talent." Delecluze, by the by,
the critic-in-chief of the Davidian School, had characterised the
picture as _une veritable tartouillade_.

In 1824 the Salon included two pictures which may be regarded as
important documents in the history of painting. One of these was
Constable's _Hay Wain_--now

[Illustration: PLATE XLV.--EUGENE DELACROIX

DANTE AND VIRGIL

_Louvre, Paris_]

in our National Gallery--which had been purchased by a Frenchman; the
other was Delacroix's _Massacre of Scio_, the first to receive the
enlightenment afforded by the Englishman's methods, which spread so
widely over the French School. It was said that Delacroix entirely
repainted his picture on seeing Constable's; but his pupil, Lassalle
Bordes, is probably nearer the truth in saying that the master being
dissatisfied with its general tone, which was too chalky, transformed it
by means of violent glazings. The critics were no less noisy over this
picture than the last. "A painter has been revealed to us," said one,
"but he is a man who runs along the housetops." "Yes," answered
Baudelaire, "but for that one must have a sure foot, and an eye guided
by an inward light."

When the Salon opened again in 1827, after an interval of three years,
the public were astonished to find how large a number of painters had
abandoned Davidism and openly joined the ranks of the enemy. Delacroix
himself exhibited the _Marino Faliero_ (now at Hertford House) and
eleven others. The gauntlet was flung down, and war began in deadly
earnest between the opposing parties. It was at this time that the terms
Romanticism and Romantic came into common use. Delacroix always resented
being labelled as a Romantic, and would only acknowledge that the term
might be justly applied to him when used in its widest signification.
"If by my Romanticism," he wrote, "is meant the free expression of my
personal impressions, my aversion from the stereotypes invariably
produced in the schools, and my repugnance to academic receipts, then I
must admit I am Romantic."

Here we have the plain truth about the painting of the nineteenth
cen