ART.

THE PLNWELL GA MERY.

IT is a strange and sad coincidence that the works of Messrs. Pinwell and Walker, whose names were often coupled while the artists were living, should this year have been exhibited in close succession at the same gallery, on the occasion of their death. Mr. Walker's pictures were no sooner removed from Messrs. Deschamps' Gallery, than the present collection of G. J. Pinwell's took their place, and seems likely to be nearly as great a favourite as the former one. There was, no doubt, between these artists a close similarity in their method of work and tone of colour ; so notice- able, indeed, is this, that many have not scrupled to assert that Pinwell was but an imitation of Walker, and like most imitators, exaggerated the manner of his master. This is not the case, however, for besides the fact that the artists were of the same age, we notice that from the earliest stages of their art they did but develope the same plan. We should rather imagine that these painters, both almost entirely self-taught, while recognising the weakness and want of thought so conspicuous in most modern painting, and yet not being disposed to go the same lengths as the leaders of the pre- Raphaelite movement, chose this middle course, and endeavoured to combine all the tender feeling and harmonious colour of the pre- Raphaelites with the ease of posture, and grace and freedom of line, in which pre-Raphaelites are, as a rule, notably wanting ; and thus Walker and Pinwell, working, as it were, on parallel lines, arrived at a similar result. On any close comparison of their works, we find that the similarity which is so striking at first does not ex- tend very far, and resolves itself mainly into a preference for warmth of colour and freedom of outline and composition. Beyond this they are not only dissimilar, but even sometimes totally opposed.

The subjects in which Walker delighted most, and beyond which he seldom travelled with full success, were simple incidents of country life or domestic story, and the scrupulous exactness with which he rendered these, was the great charm of his work. In Pinwell, just the contrary is the case ; over the majority of his drawings there hangs the glamour of a fairy tale, and often the figures in his compositions are as confused and unsubstantial as those of a dream. With a spirit full of the most tender, poetic feeling, the light through which he viewed everything was,—

" The light that never was on sea or land,

The consecration of a poet's dream ;"

while Walker, according to the opinion of many, was often open to the reproach bestowed upon the pre-Raphaelites, that "they exalted minutia; at the expense of beauty." Pinwell, on the other hand, may fairly have been said to have exalted beauty at the expense of minutia:. It is this to which we may attribute most of the unreality which is so offensive to many of his critics, and which will always render him less generally liked than the artist of " The Old Gate."

" It is not Nature," people say, and think it sufficient condem- nation ; but have we not heard that remark made about Turner many a time in the most triumphant manner, till Mr. Ruskin wrote "Modern Painters," and settled, let us hope, the question for ever. This question of what is and what is not natural is indeed the most difficult to answer of all the hard queries of Art. The value of work which attempts much and falls short of success, as compared with that which attempts but little and succeeds, must ever remain undecided. The man who sees beauty in simple objects and scenes, and renders them accordingly, is certainly worthy of all praise ; but should we deny it to him who, with a more sensitive temperament and higher aspirations, is ever striving after a per- fection which he cannot attain ? It seems to us that, supposing both to have wrought out, as far as in them lay, the best they knew, that they are alike worthy, though the one will probably be regarded by the majority as a success, and the other derided as a failure. And, moreover, it is owing to the unsuccessful endeavours

1 of those amongst us who, so to speak, fall by the way-side, that a higher ideal comes to be sought for, and found at last ; for in the days to come, these silent witnesses of abortive but gallant aspira- tion after the highest conceptions will speak home to many a noble spirit, will cheer them in failure, encourage them in despondency,

and in the end, help them to attain success. In the meantime, no doubt, such pictures as many of those in this Gallery will be called awkward, affected, and unnatural, and there will be but a very few who will take the trouble to discern their beauty or comprehend their meaning. These remarks seemed necessary to- explain the different aspect through which these pictures must be viewed, compared to Mr. Walker's, who, with all his true feeling and consummate skill, did not in the whole of his artistic life- produce any important picture, which could be rightly called a work of imagination. Here is the great difference between them,. and it is one which it was necessary dearly to define, before criticising the pictures separately.

There are many drawings here well worthy of notice, but our

space will only suffice for a brief mention of a few of the most important. No. 35, " A Seat in St. James's Park," is probably the best known of all the artist's exhibited works. It was the- first drawing of Pinwell's that was shown at the Society of Painters in Water-Colours, and was at the time a very great favourite. In it we have all this painter's numerous excellencies, with but few of his faults. The colour is quiet and unexaggerated to a high degree, the grouping and drawing of the figures most ex- cellent, but the great merit of the picture is its dramatic intensity,. and its masterly contrast of the pathetic and the humorous. A. lifeguardsman and attendant nurserymaid, with her neglected child, occupy one end of the seat, while at the other sits a woman• with downcast head, and between them a broken-down roué, with untrimmed beard and hat thrust over his eyes. There is no- forced sentiment about the picture, it is simply one that you might chance to see yourself any fine morning ; but it is treated with so much genuine feeling and true sympathy, that it would be difficult to find a more pathetic composition. Another- very fine example of the painter's less imaginative manner is No.. 28, " The Last Load." A quiet English meadow, with the hay- makers resting from their toil in the foreground, while the last load is being carried home. This is one of the most tender, graceful pictures in the exhibition, the figures in the fore- ground being especially fine, and finished with the greatest care._ Nos. 73 and 83 are the two well-known illustrations to l3rowning's- poem of the " Pied Piper of Hamelin." The story is a quaint one, and to judge from the success with which he has rendered it, one peculiarly suited to Pinwell's fanciful style. The first of these, entitled " Rats," is undoubtedly the finer. The weird dance of the Piper, the mad haste with which the rats are tumbling over- one another in their eagerness to get to him, the mingled amaze- ment and joy of the bystanders, are all vividly realised and repro- duced. How the churlish townspeople would not give the Piper his reward, and how he, in revenge, piped his magic strain to the

till

"All the little boys and girls, With rosy Cheeks and flaxen curls,

And sparkling eyes and teeth like pear114".

followed him up and into the great mountain, and were none of- them ever seen again, we have often read and wondered at. The subject of the second picture is the moment when the Piper is- beginning to play for the second time, and the children are pressing towards him. Here, again, the steadfast look in the Piper's face as he moves on playing is finely expressed, but the figures of the children are confused, and the colour of the whole- picture is unreal and exaggerated.

One of the most pathetic of the pictures here shown—and they are nearlyall more or less pathetic—is No. 80, " Gilbert A'Beckett's Troth : the Saracen Maiden entering London at Sundown." This is the largest of the water-coleurs in the collection, and a. very fine, carefully-executed piece of work. It is evening, and the- long, dusty road is thronged with groups of children and way- farers, amongst whom passes the Saracen, in soft, white robes.. The old question " Gilbert? London ?" is being put, let us hope for the last time, to a couple of young lovers, who turn round with looks of wonder and sympathy, to answer the strange query. In this composition, a quiet sadness is the predominant feeling; from. the face of the foreign maiden all hope and fear have died out in the course of her long journey ; however, we know that her pluck and constancy met with their reward, for was she not married to Gilbert, and did she not have her name changed to Matilda?—which must have suited her passionate, Oriental face remarkably welt As a contrast to the above picture, No. 57 is quite charming. In this picture there is none of the pathetic interest of the other, but it is a very careful study of an ordinary piece of country scenery. The work on this drawing will bear comparison with the finest specimens of Walker, than which we know nothing more delicate or more true. The painting of the cottage and bank of trees behind should be specially noticed, as examples of quite perfect manipulation. Another of the more homely scenes, is No. 63, "The Old Clock," one of the artist's latest exhibited works. A very old couple are setting their large, old-fashioned clock in an old-fashioned country house. The interest is but slight, but the artist has imbued the little every-day incident with a grace and tenderness of his own, and the picture seems to speak of the many years of peaceful home-life during which that old couple have set the hands in the same manner day by day, and of the time soon to come when they will set them no more. Another very important drawing is No. 70, " The Elixir of Love," an imagina- tive composition of many figures, arranged, as was the peculiar habit of this artist, in a long picture, but little higher than the principal figures. Though somewhat confused in composition, this is, taken on the whole, one of Pinwell's finest works, and one for which he made several studies,—one of them being in the Old Water-Colour Society at the present time. The name speaks for itself. At a booth in a fair the wonderful elixir is being sold, and all sexes-and ages and degrees are hastening to procure it. The -chief figure is that of a girl who holds the bottle containing the precious draught up to a rather sulky-looking youth, who certainly ooks as if he would be none the worse for a little. The figures .of the very old man and woman behind, tottering feebly along, are full of grace and feeling, and the whole picture, though it par- takes much of that unreality which we have spoken of above as one of Pinwell's chief characteristics, is replete with tenderness -and beauty.

No. 50, "The Earl o' Quarterdeck," is another of the quaint illustrations of old ballads, in which this painter so often de- lighted. It represents, as the quotation in the catalogue informs us, a princess steering the ship, the aft-part of which, with the tiller and bulwarks, is alone given, while the skipper leans over the heavy wooden tiller and makes love to her. The whole is treated in a more or less fantastic manner, even to the sea-gulls, which circle, screaming above the ship. Skippers are seen in many various garbs in different countries ; we ourselves have seen them in linen jackets and pig-tails and feathers, and,—little else ; but the skipper who sailed his ship in purple silk stockings, even when he has a princess on board, is a phenomenon yet to be dis- -covered. The many other interesting pictures here we must leave to our readers' discernment to discover, merely mentioning that the illustrations, in black and white, to Jean Ingelow's poems are admirable as specimens of the better class of book illustration. We have left, unnoticed the oil-pictures ; there are very few of them in a finished state, and those do not call for any special praise. Indeed, whatever Pinwell might have become if he had lived, up to the time of his death he was a water-colour painter. We have dwelt but little on the many minor faults to be seen in this artist's works. At such a time as this, when his loss is still keenly felt in the art-world, as well as among his private friends, we may well omit fault-finding, being its object beyond our praise or blame. That this is a collection of works by a true artist, who did his work to the best of his power, and only discon- tinued it with his life, we know. He has left us many beautiful pictures, and if some of them err on the side of extravagance, we +may well set against this the fact that he was self-taught, and died when little more than a boy.