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ST. ROCH CURING THE PLAGUE.

RUBENS.

In the picture before us, one of the finest productions of the pencil of Rubens, the miraculous effects of the intercession of St. Roch, in favour of those who were afflicted with the plague, are admirably delineated. The Saint, clothed in the habit of a pilgrim, prostrates himself before Jesus Christ, who shews him these words written upon a tablet held by an Angel, Eris in peste patronus. St. Roch places his hand upon his bosom, and testifies his gratitude to God for the blessing afforded him. In an inferior part of the picture, a group of persons, ready to expire, manifest the most lively hopes of escaping from death, on perceiving their protector. An aged woman, clothed in a long white drapery, contemplates with admiration the celestial group. Another woman feels herself revived; while several men, who are equally overwhelmed with this dreadful calamity, express, in the midst of their sufferings, the confidence which governs their minds.

The execution of this chef d'œuvre is worthy of the genius of Rubens. This immortal artist has, perhaps, produced nothing finer than the diseased group: their heads, their attitudes, are perfect models of sentiment and energy. But admirable as these figures are, taken individually, that of the young woman, which immediately strikes the eye, fixes, in a particular manner, our attention. It is impossible to pourtray, with greater truth, the affecting and sublime idea of great physical suffering, contrasted with emotions of the warmest sympathy, or to express with more precision the fervour of hope, surrounded by the horrors of death. To this head, that of Mary de Medici, at the moment of the birth of Louis XIII. is solely to be compared; and Rubens was perhaps the only artist capable of executing the one or the other. This picture is designed with that energy, and executed with all that fire of pencil, which characterize the works of Rubens. The colouring is perfectly correct, and admirably varied. In the midst, however, of beauties of the first order, it is perceptible that the figures of our Saviour and the Angel are somewhat too heavy. In other respects they, like the rest, are full of life and motion.

The draperies are, in general, of a vivid tint, but harmoniously united. The cloak of Christ is red; the tunic of the Angel of a bright yellow; St. Roch is habited in brown and violet; the robe of the young woman is a pale red; the dress of the man who supports her in his arms is of dark blue, verging upon green. The other afflicted persons are enveloped in white linen, or in woollen covering, whose tones accord with their livid and discoloured carnations; but of which the demi-tints and the shadows have considerable force and vigour. The back ground represents a species of hospital. The figures are of the natural size.

Although in our various strictures on the works of Rubens that have enriched this publication, we have endeavoured to give the student an idea of the peculiar beauties and defects of this great artist; we are induced

ST. ROCH CURING THE PLAGUE.

to insert the following critique on his merits and imperfections, from the pen of that distinguished ornament of his art, the late Sir Joshua Reynolds.

"Rubens appears to have had that confidence in himself, which it is necessary for every artist to assume when he has finished his studies, and may venture, in some measure, to throw aside the fetters of authority; to consider the rules as subject to his controul, and not himself subject to the rules; to risk and to dare extraordinary attempts without a guide, abandoning himself to his own sensations, and depending upon them. To this confidence must be imputed, that originality of manner by which he may be truly said to have extended the limits of his art. After Rubens had made up his manner, he never looked out of himself for assistance; there is consequently very little in his works that appears to be taken from other masters. If he has borrowed any thing, he has had the address to change and adopt it so well to the rest of his work, that the theft is not dis coverable.

"Beside the excellency of Rubens in these general powers, he possessed the true art of imitating. He saw the object of nature with a painter's eye; he saw at once the predominant feature by which every object is known and distinguished, and as soon as seen, it was executed with a facility astonishing; and let me add, this faculty is, to a painter, a source of rich pleasure. How far this excellence may be perceived, or felt by those who are not painters, I know not: to them certainly it is not enough that objects be truly represented; they must likewise be represented with grace, which means here, that the work is done with facility and without effort. Rubens was, perhaps, the greatest master in the mecha

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nical part of the art, the best workman with his tools, that ever exercised a pencil.

"This part of the art, though it does not hold a rank with the powers of invention, of giving character and expression, has yet in it what may be called genius. It is certainly something that may be learned by frequent examination of those pictures which possess this excellence. It is felt by very few painters; and it is as rare at this time among the living painters, as any of the higher excellencies of the art.

"This power, which Rubens possessed in the highest degree, enabled him to represent whatever he undertook better than any other painter. His animals, particularly lions and horses, are so admirable, that it may be said they were never properly represented but by him. His portraits rank with the best works of the painters who have made that branch of the art the sole business of their lives, and of those he has left a great variety of specimens. The same may be said of his landscapes: and though Claude Lorrain finished more minutely, as becomes a professor in any particular branch, yet there is such an airiness and facility in the landscapes of Rubens, that a painter would as soon wish to be the author of them as those of Claude, or any other artist whatever.

"The pictures of Rubens have this effect on the spectator, that he feels himself in no wise disposed to peck out and dwell on his deserts. The criticisms which are made on him, are indeed often unreasonable. His style ought no more to be blamed for not having the sublimity of Michael Angelo, than Ovid should be censured because he is not like Virgil.

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