International studio (23.1904)

Book Reviews

Sir Henry Raeburn, R.A. By Edward Pin-
nington. i2mo. Pages 274. Illustrated.
New York: Charles Scribners’ Sons (Import-
ed). $1.25, net.
This month we receive from Messrs. Charles
Scribners’ Sons the most recent edition of the de-
lightful series edited by Mr. James A. Manson, en-
titled, “The Makers of British Art,” the subject
under present contribution being “Sir Henry Rae-
burn, R.A.,” by Edward Pinnington. We have
already called the attention of our readers to the ex-
cellent plan of this series in general, comprising as
it does a library of volumes, each one devoted to the
life and work of one of the most eminent artists of
the British school, excellently illustrated in photo-
gravure and half tone, and comprising, besides the
biography and critique, a series of compact appen-
dices which for purposes of reference makes the
volumes most valuable. In the present instance
the appendices constitute the following items:
(1) Catalogue of Raeburn’s Works. (2) Rae-
burn’s Miniatures. (3) Engravings after Raeburn.
(4) Raeburn Pictures in Public Galleries. (5)
Prices Fetched by Raeburn Pictures. (6) Bibliog-
raphy. A complete index to the book itself closes
the volume.
The author has found the influences of the great
Scotch painter somewhat difficult to determine.
“It is no more possible,” he says, “to measure the
influence of Velasquez—and, for that matter, of
Reynolds—in the making of Raeburn, than that of
Tintoretto in the making of Velasquez. It is, no
doubt easy to imagine Raeburn surrounded by all
sorts of masters and models in both Edinburgh and
Rome, but let us admit that they spring from imagi-
nation and have no existence in knowledge.” The
author’s great difficulty has been to separate the
true from the false in what has been previously con-
tributed to his subject, in volumes which should
have been rather entitled “Romances of Real Life”
than “Biographies.” The author continues:
“In this book a different course has, therefore,
been taken. Raeburn is viewed as the naturally
gifted possessor of certain potentialities which im-
pelled him in one particular direction more forcibly
than in any other, and were ultimately focussed
upon one specific object. These forces compose
what is called artistic genius, and that object was
art. . . He cannot with certainty be attributed
to any school or master, or succession of masters.
. . . The alternative is to estimate Raeburn
simply as we find him, and to look at his various
styles as the successive phases of personal evolution.
Any question of originality is thus precluded, and

the criticism that would inevitably be in great part
wasted upon source is centred upon quality.”
These sentences indicate the point of view taken in
the present volume. The author has done useful
work in this honest survey of “The Reynolds of the
North.”
Poems. By Eugene Barry, umo. Pages 159.
Boston: L. C. Page & Co. Si.00 net.
This small volume contains a collection of up-
ward of fifty poems, in which the writer has dis-
played great versatility, confining his work to no
particular theme, but presenting to his readers sub-
jects as widely diverse as “The Prairie Farmer,”
“The Trapper of the Penobscot,” “The Robins’
Mating Time,” “Verses to My Children,” etc.
Most of the poems abound with the poet’s love and
reverence for nature, especially for the beautiful
scenery of New England, of which he writes inti-
mately as one thoroughly at home in his subject and
perfectly familiar with the changeable mood of
nature, as revealed either in lonely forest, by sunlit
lake or on the rugged mountain top. Specially
realistic is his picture of a New England home, in
his poem, “A Prairie Farmer,” and most pro-
nouncedly is his love of nature set forth in the verses
entitled “Moosehead Lake,” from which we quote
the following:
“Queen of the northern waters! yet once more
I rest upon thy bosom, and mine eyes
Gaze on thy wooded isles and sunlit shore,
Fair as when first I felt their sweet surprise.
Thy old-time witchery steals o’er my heart,
And with its spell bright youth returns again,
Thy winds of healing bid dull grief depart,
The waves’ low crooning soothes my wearied brain.
Not to the hurrying throng who seek her shrine
Doth Nature ope her sanctuary door;
Though much they deign to praise in accents fine,
And, condescending, view her beauties o’er.
But unto those who seek in humble mood,
And watch and woo her with a lover’s eye,
With patient vigil long, through ill and good,
She grants her favors all unceasingly.
Here might I ever rest in sweet content,
No more to roam the world’s rough pathway o’er,
And when life’s last, faint, twilight beam is spent,
Find peaceful rest beside this tranquil shore.”
French Painting in the Sixteenth Century.
By L. Dimier. 121110. Pages 330. New
York: Charles Scribners’ Sons. (Imported.)
$2.00 net.
This book is a translation by Mr. Harold Child
from Monsieur_Dimier’s French MS. The history

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