By Ralph Peacock

IT is the privilege of man, in his youth, to ignore his limitations. For this ignorance he pays in failure the price of a possible success. In his wiser middle age he does not repent, he finds that it is only by some sort of an attack on his limitations that apparent results are attained, and he learns to take on faith the difference there is in fact between the attainment and the attempt. The experience of a woman is, I take it, very similar. It follows in no way that, because her limitations are different from, and in a physical sense greater than, man's, the brutal laws which go to produce results are in her case different. She is marching along the same road, and though she may have other stopping places by the way and perhaps may take up more modest quarters in the end, it is a journey and an arrival, an effort and a result, and the things seen by the wayside become of significance to her as the painted banners under which she seeks her way.

Englishwomen do not seem to have done much in painting before the generation or two that are just past. Public opinion was against them. The early Victorian conditions under which a woman like Charlotte BrontË produced her great results in another art are more or less familiar to all, and in the matter of painting the voice of prejudice has had still more to say. By these days it has croaked itself into the feeble hoarseness of a respectable and decent old age, and we can already look back to a succession of women painters who seem to have been conscious at first of their leading-strings, but who have shown a development more than corresponding to that of the conditions under which they worked. Kate Greenaway, who died only a few years ago, was no doubt a good example of the charming results to be obtained in leading-strings. To compare her with an artist who works in a similar field to-day is to note an advance, not only of a generation, but of the changing educational conditions within the generation. It is a far cry from Kate Greenaway to Miss Alice Woodward, for instance, and it is difficult to imagine that another age will say anything more, or less, of Miss Woodward than that she was a most distinguished artist. The leading-strings are gone.

It will always be a special field for women, the production of work in the first place for children, and it is unnecessary to spend time in emphasising or over-emphasising its importance. Art itself reckons little with motives and much with results. In a more general view it would, perhaps, be better to start this small article with some notice of the women painters of the seventeenth, eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. There is Mrs. Mary Beale, who was a child when Cromwell was Lord Protector, and who later on painted a most excellent portrait of Charles II. There is some work of hers in the National Portrait Gallery, London, work of the quiet, genuine kind, and better than most of the painting that came for some time afterwards. Then there is Angelica Kauffman, R.A., who provides us with perhaps the only well-known name of the early periods, and there are some portrait-painters of interest, like Miss Catharine Read, of Reynolds' time, or like Mrs. Anne Mee, of the early part of last century. But it must be confessed that it would be a sorry list for a couple of centuries if it were a fact that women had had the same opportunities and no greater disabilities than the men of the period. It is not indeed until we reach such painters as Margaret Carpenter, the portrait painter, Mrs. Matilda Heming, the landscapist, and Lady Waterford, that more than charming amateur who might have done so much, that we begin to feel we have a reasonable genesis of the worker of to-day. These painters show to us now rather the influences of their time or the limitations of their opportunities, than personalities which are outside such considerations, but they nevertheless provide us with evidence of a very genuine and lively activity.

British School, XVIII Century

THE SIBYL.
AFTER THE PICTURE IN THE ROYAL GALLERY, DRESDEN.
FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRAUN, CLÉMENT & CO., PARIS
Maria Angelica Kauffman, R.A., Painter
1741-1807

The work of Mrs. Heming is interesting in a rather more special way. It is distinctly rare to find the ordinary landscapist of her time working with an eye to truth rather than to the making of a so-called composition of the period, rare enough in fact to place her quite above the ordinary.

It is at first sight a curious thing that more women painters have not even in these days been attracted by pure landscape. It is strange in the sense that they have among them such painters as Lady Butler and Miss Lucy Kemp-Welch. But no branch of art is more that of the specialists than landscape. It developed later in history than any other, and it calls to those who would tire of the didactic in human thought and who might find in the study of any obviously human affair something to remind them of a phase of experience they would, in paint, avoid. No doubt the Empress Frederick turned to landscape as an occupation of relief from the pressing human affairs in which her life was involved, and it is just in such a way that the natural landscapist turns from the human side of life to the more abstract emotions he finds in the garden of the Great Spirit.

Women, I believe, are more held by the personal than the abstract. Mrs. Allingham may be one of the exceptions. In any case Mrs. Allingham claims quite a special place for herself in any sketch-survey of the work of English women painters. Few women have shown a more definitely English sympathy in landscape than she has. Her method is simple, obvious and plain for all to see. For that reason it would fail to appeal in any way to the Eclectics, or to those among them, at any rate, who, in the words of a subtle Eclectic, confound the natural with the commonplace. A distinctly home-bred feeling, such as Mrs. Allingham has among women, or, in the grand manner, Fred Walker among men, is however a very rare thing and is becoming rarer. How far it may, in individual cases, change to other things may be seen in some of the more modern painters, in the remarkably strong work of Miss Margaret Cameron, Miss Biddie Macdonald, Miss Alice Fanner, and Miss Beatrice How. This latter painter has not merely been affected in matters of technique, but gives us, most delightfully, the very sentiment of the country people she paints. It is quite a little miracle of transplanted adaptability.

It has been said that every good woman has in her marching outfit a supply of adaptability which, in sum total, accounts for most of the happiness enjoyed by the human race at large. If so, it may be added that in its superior manifestations the affair is sub-conscious, artistic, most natural and not at all one of the commonplaces of life. It perhaps explains, or rather is illustrated by, the number of painters in the very first rank among women who have shown in their work the influence of some near relative. In any case, Lady Alma-Tadema for one has produced work so extraordinarily good in itself that it is easy to believe the similarity of her technique to that of Sir Laurence Alma-Tadema to be merely one of the happy chances of her life. A very similar thought arises in connection with the work of the late Miss Margaret Dicksee. It is easy to influence technique, but first causes are not set in action by human hands. If one who did not know her may say so, there is written on the canvases that Miss Dicksee has left behind the evidence of a most lovable nature.

Mrs. Stanhope Forbes, Miss Lucy Kemp-Welch and Lady Granby are isolated examples whose work has no connection in itself and shows very little affinity, beneath the surface, with the special influences of their time. The strong brushwork of Mrs. Stanhope Forbes, it is true, may be said to have arrived by way of Newlyn, but the fanciful sentiment underlying her work has an arrival quite of its own. Miss Lucy Kemp-Welch has made, and deserved, a place for herself the last few years, and she stands alone among women as an animal painter of power. Lady Granby, who is an amateur, is also an artist. Magna est ars et prevalet. Ave!

Miss Mary Gow, the late Alice Havers, Miss Jessie Macgregor, Miss Anna Alma-Tadema, Miss Lily Blatherwick, Miss Amy Sawyer, and Louisa Starr (Madame Canziana) also make a special appeal, each in her own way.

Mrs. Swynnerton is a lady who has given us a great deal of work of a very high order indeed. In the first place she has always something to say that is worth saying. Her work is exuberant with the joy of life, the joy of colour. Her very brush is surcharged with a high and lavish spirit. Blue eyes look out, so blue, from happy sunburnt faces, so sunburnt, that take their places on her canvases as in a drama to tell us something of her thoughts and of themselves. Mrs. Swynnerton, plus her faults, is genuine through and through. The work of another painter, Mrs. De Morgan, naturally comes into consideration when we turn to symbolism. More tenaciously in earnest and more austere in every way than Mrs. Swynnerton, her work is as the poles apart. The one romps, if the term be allowed, in a flower-spangled meadow, the other's province is the study; and, as is the way with students, her mind is often on the thought of the past rather than with affairs of the present. Before one of Mrs. De Morgan's pictures one thinks through, by way of Burne-Jones, to Botticelli and the great ancestors of art, and it is saying a very great deal for Mrs. De Morgan that in such case one can bless the passive hand that gives and the hand that receives.

Her work may very well lead us to a small band of artists, not definitely connected in themselves, but allied with each other in the sense that they work for somewhat similar ends: Mrs. Marianne Stokes, Miss Eleanor Fortescue Brickdale and Mrs. Young Hunter. To these, perhaps, may one day be added a name very little known at present, Miss Milicent E. Gray. It is not unusual in speaking of the work of either of these first three artists, and more especially of Miss Eleanor Brickdale, to refer to the pre-Raphaelite influence in art. It is, however, extremely probable that the influence takes direct effect in these days more as a method than as a conviction. The great conviction itself has leavened Art, and the individualities of these painters are so strong that it becomes in their case a nearer interest to ignore all potters and regard the clay. Mrs. Young Hunter has a quaint flitting fancy that wanders over hill and dale and seizes from life subtle little touches that are full of the elusiveness of tales told after school hours.

Mrs. Marianne Stokes is made of sterner stuff. She has worked of late in that most stern and stubborn medium, tempera, and small things of hers in various exhibitions attract one always with the desire to know more of her most attractive work. Miss Eleanor Brickdale works, or plays, always with an idea. And the idea she is not satisfied to leave until it has taken on for other eyes a most cunning and beautiful bodily shape, in line, in form, in colour—above all in line. She is probably, without knowing it, as good an antithesis as may be found of the Impressionist, so-called. The Impressionist is the incarnation of the abstract in terms of paint, the Symbolist uses the material to convey definite abstractions in thought. It is, by contrast with music, the motive of symphony as compared to the motive of Oratorio or opera, and the apposite methods may be equally well, or badly, used or abused. Abuse may lead the militant Impressionist to an impasse of assertive agnosticism as pedantic in its way as the lucubrations of the most literary pedant in paint. On the other side of the lantern you may have Watts, and the painted canvases of a Whistler. So be it.

Art is a long lane with many turnings, and down each there may be found a little house with a fireside and human hearts thereby.

RALPH PEACOCK.

School of British Water-Colour, 1900.