DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62037#0060
J. R. SMITH: HIS LIFE AND WORKS 37
have something more than mere accuracy, and that
something Raphael Smith undoubtedly possessed. The
secret of it is not quite in his sentiment, not quite in his
sympathy ; it is in the fibre of his soul, in his twinship
with the artists after whom he worked. He had a certain
feminine adaptability : he could respond to, and interpret,
a mood. There are sexes in the arts, and that of the
engraver is feminine. Nothing that Smith accomplished
alone was virile or steady ; one need not resort to the
farmyard to establish the inevitability of his comparative
failure. He was made fecund by the genius of others.
With Reynolds he could show us a “ Mrs. Carnac,” with
Romney he could produce a “Gower Family.” Alone,
not all the clucking could deceive the critical world into
thinking “A Maid” or “Narcissa” had the germ of the
matter in them. This feminineness of Raphael Smith’s
art in no way detracts from the primal truth that it is
art, and not craft. An egg is no less an egg though it
should make an omelette and not a chicken. Smith’s
attempts at chicken-rearing were abortive. To leave
metaphor and come to fact, it must never be forgotten
that Smith was untrained. We have direct evidence of
many men having been pupils of John Raphael Smith ; we
have no direct evidence of Smith himself being the pupil
of any engraver of eminence. His talent is sui generis;
yet it is impossible to deny its value. A glance through
the folio shows alike his strength and his weakness. If it
is a monument to his memory, and the only one, it is a
monument with a torch of truth in its hand. And if it
illuminates “ Mrs. Carnac,” it shows also the feeble folly
of “Black, Brown, and Fair,” the disastrous decline of
“ The Misses Hart.” Left alone, he laid eggs only good
enough for eating, only capable of satisfying an immediate
public taste or appetite.
That I should nevertheless have placed him first among
the great engravers, if not directly specifying him as the
greatest, of the eighteenth century, is not unfair ; for
what he accomplished perfectly and beautifully, at his
high-water mark of accomplishment, is sufficient to sub-
have something more than mere accuracy, and that
something Raphael Smith undoubtedly possessed. The
secret of it is not quite in his sentiment, not quite in his
sympathy ; it is in the fibre of his soul, in his twinship
with the artists after whom he worked. He had a certain
feminine adaptability : he could respond to, and interpret,
a mood. There are sexes in the arts, and that of the
engraver is feminine. Nothing that Smith accomplished
alone was virile or steady ; one need not resort to the
farmyard to establish the inevitability of his comparative
failure. He was made fecund by the genius of others.
With Reynolds he could show us a “ Mrs. Carnac,” with
Romney he could produce a “Gower Family.” Alone,
not all the clucking could deceive the critical world into
thinking “A Maid” or “Narcissa” had the germ of the
matter in them. This feminineness of Raphael Smith’s
art in no way detracts from the primal truth that it is
art, and not craft. An egg is no less an egg though it
should make an omelette and not a chicken. Smith’s
attempts at chicken-rearing were abortive. To leave
metaphor and come to fact, it must never be forgotten
that Smith was untrained. We have direct evidence of
many men having been pupils of John Raphael Smith ; we
have no direct evidence of Smith himself being the pupil
of any engraver of eminence. His talent is sui generis;
yet it is impossible to deny its value. A glance through
the folio shows alike his strength and his weakness. If it
is a monument to his memory, and the only one, it is a
monument with a torch of truth in its hand. And if it
illuminates “ Mrs. Carnac,” it shows also the feeble folly
of “Black, Brown, and Fair,” the disastrous decline of
“ The Misses Hart.” Left alone, he laid eggs only good
enough for eating, only capable of satisfying an immediate
public taste or appetite.
That I should nevertheless have placed him first among
the great engravers, if not directly specifying him as the
greatest, of the eighteenth century, is not unfair ; for
what he accomplished perfectly and beautifully, at his
high-water mark of accomplishment, is sufficient to sub-