SIR EDWIN LANDSEER AS A NATURALIST AND LORD We are the more anxious to assert decidedly that this habit of his is a mere whim, a freak of fancy, an idiosyncratic turn which an otherwise strong mind has taken, for the following reason, we do it in the interest of Humanity. For Edwin For Edwin Landseer is such a favourite and deservedly so-his works are so much admired; such unanimous favour is accorded to all that he presents us with; and each delineation from his pencil is received with such undoubting faith, that were at some future period this one aberration with regard to tails to grow upon him, and finally extend itself to his own race, it is impossible to say how many noble families of England might be most painfully situated. It may be thought we are treating the matter as a joke, and that we are not at all in earnest. This is far from being the case: we consider the subject worthy of serious attention. It is, moreover, psychologically interesting; for this strange incorrectness in such a close observer as Edwin Landseer is evidently a mental aberration. Being such, its existence does not in the least detract from his merit as an artist. He deserves-well and VOL. LIV. NO. CCCXIX. The richly deserves-all the admiration 6 While passing tedious days in towns and on the plain, how often have these scenes refreshed our hearts. And we have stood so long before them, that at last Fancy has carried us away through the gloomy glen, and we stood again among the rocks, and stepped from stone to stone across the torrent. And when shades of brown and gold have begun to break the uniform colouring of the green woods, and haze and thin mist lie upon the ground at morning, how often has a glance at Landseer's pictures awakened our old longings, and we have felt it almost impossible to stay plodding at home, and far from the dearlyloved forest. Such power is that of the magician. He transports us away whither he listeth: he carries us with him to the mountain-top amid floating cloud, or we enjoy the warmth of the welcome peat-fire under the low roof of the turf-built shieling. Many a time, by his sorcery, have we been unfitted for our daily duties, after watching his deer as they stood at gaze in a glen looming through the mist; and we looked and looked till at last we D have almost listened for the low husky bellow of the stag, and-no longer able to resist-have left books and business to their fate, and packing up our rifle, been off to the scenes themselves. Such being the influence which these truthful representations have over us, it is vexatious to discover the incorrectness above alluded to. There, for example, is the stag on the left in The Deer Pass,' with a tail approaching somewhat in form those of the fat-tailed sheep in the Jardin des Plantes. It is neither that of a red deer nor of a fallow deer, though more like the latter. For of course it is known that in the two species the tail is as different as possible, as different, indeed, as the antlers on the head of each.* And though the featurebe small, that is no reason why it should be slurred over and given incorrectly. What would be said, for instance, if the wild-ducks on the foreground in "The Sanctuary' had croups like partridges, instead of being represented as they are, with such truth that every part of the body is alive with character and expression? Or if, for the collapsed webbed feet of the rising birds, the plover's claw had been given them? And yet the fault-the only fault-always committed by Landseer is not a whit less flagrant or less an eyesore than such substitution would be.† The greatest abomination of all is the long tail appended to the unfortunate stag, in 'The Challenge.' The animal, too, is so placed that the fault is seen in all its enormity. To this we have nearly a parallel in The Sanctuary.' Though dripping with water after his long swim, the tail of the stag could not possibly appear as long as here represented. Indeed, there can be no doubt as to the complete misconception of the artist in the matter, for the elongation is not the effect of shaggy hair, but arises clearly enough from the addition of a couple of inches of vertebra. Here, as in the companion print, the feature is so prominent that you cannot overlook it, much as you try to do so for the sake of the beauty spread over the rest of the picture. In a plate belonging to Mr. Scrope's work on Deer-Stalking' (Shots from Cairn Cherie, by Mr. Charles Landseer), the two nearest hinds have this part very correctly drawn. How different in character it is from that of the stags in The Challenge,' or 'The Sanctuary,' a glance will suffice to show. In Country Scenes and Sporting Characters' is the portrait of a wellknown stag; and being a portrait, and moreover a very faithful one, we mention it here to show the more clearly how Sir Edwin's idiosyncrasy has led him astray. We are well aware that a certain scope is to be allowed the artist in his creations. In striving to represent an ideal beauty he may give his shapes the utmost degree of perfection of which they are known, or supposed, to be capable. But this liberty does not extend to changing the forms of things till the generic type be lost. He may select, too, such peculiar, though rare, appearances as suit his purpose. Salvator's wildly-gnarled stems, though not to be found on every mountain-side, * The skeleton of the two animals is exactly alike in the number and articulation of the bones, excepting in the tail, where there are two vertebræ less in the stag than in a fallow deer. For though we spoke above of its being incorrect to give red deer tails, we meant such long switchable appendages as Landseer makes them. A fallow deer whisks its tail about in all directions: the movements of that of a red deer are quite different, being more circumscribed; which is accounted for by its shortness, and also by a difference in the insertion. + See also the stump' with which the dead hind is represented in 'The Random Shot.' There is, besides, an anachronism in this picture. The fawn here represented is very young, evidently not many weeks old. But the time when the young fawns are dropped is the middle of summer; a fawn, therefore, could not possibly be of the tender age here represented at a season when all Nature was buried in snow. For, although the rutting season begins in some regions later than in others, there is but about a month difference in the time. The winter landscape and the extreme, the helpless youth of the orphan, are here superadded merely to increase the pathos of an incident already in itself sufficiently touching under any form. The fault found amounts, therefore, simply to this-that the incident, as here represented, could not occur. 1856.] Sympathy between Landseer and Wordsworth. He are true copies of nature. wanted such, and sought them, and having found them had a good right to their startling deformity. The awfully-impressive sky, seeming almost like a revelation, in the backgrounds of Titian, was seen perhaps but once in a lifetime; but wanting such an effect, the artist was privileged to use it, and, had need been, to paint the same, even though his eye had not beheld the reality. Indeed, it is this faculty to select and adapt fittingly, which marks the true poetic influence. With one animal, and with one only, does Sir Edwin Landseer make the fullest use of his privilege to idealize—it is with the red deer of Scotland, and more especially with the male of the species, with the stag. With the other creatures, horses, sheep, dogs, parrots, or cows, he contents himself with giving an exact resemblance of the object as we see it in its accustomed every-day life. It is Nature's self; well-known, familiar Nature, recognisable at a glance, and holding us more firmly before it the longer we stand to gaze. For the more we examine, the more truthful do we discover every feature to be. And yet these are not mere minute copyings of a model, where perfection consists in nothing being forgotten. There is some. thing superadded, something which the true poet, be his field the canvas or the listening assembly, can alone impart. It does not consist in any idealized beauty. It is not here nor there, nor does it lie in colour, touch, or composition. Though not palpable, it is indelible; and its presence is immediately felt. It consists in a refinement and delicacy spread over and pervading the whole. This is not to be imitated, for its source is the artist's mind; nor can it be learned. In the commonest things which Landseer paints, there is never the slightest taint of vulgarity. And when he gives us some rural scene, his beautiful perception of all nature's ways is like a gentle voice appealing to our hearts, and we give it instantly a most loving hear 49 ing. Did Wordsworth-dear, venerated Wordsworth-ever pen a sweeter idyl than we have in The Twins? Is The Strawberry Blossom, or We are Seven, composed of materials one whit more simple ? Is not in each an artless story presented to us, without display or attempt at heightened colouring? And yet what grace is here, what absence of all effort; how powerful the effect on our best and gentlest sympathies. What feeling is shown throughout for all natural objects; for the wildflower, the heather, for sunshine, and for tender infancy. And when pathos touches us, how little thought is taken about the means. A dog standing beside a grave, that is all; yet, as in the Childless Father of the poet, there is something which makes us conscious of a world of sorrow. Manifold, to our mind, are the points of similarity between the two men here brought together: in the love of subjects taken from every-day life; in the power to invest them with an interest; in the feeling for certain appearances in nature, the gloom, the dawn, the mist, the coming storm, and finally, in the dignity which, in their hands, even a smithy wears, without there being, however, the least sacrifice of truth. Landscer's love for landscape is evident. The eye of love alone could have watched all nature's changes so observingly and with such sympathizing intelli gence. We said that with the stag only is Landseer seduced into pourtraying an ideal; to give us for a noble form one of still bolder proportions, such as his fine fancy has imagined them. Though not solely, it still is chiefly with the antlers of his stags that he is wont to idealize. Such splendid branchings as he gives to them in general, are in reality seen now-a-days but rarely, and form therefore theexceptional occurrence.* But though he spreads them out to grand dimensions, and twists them occasionally with fantastic effect as the long points rise against the sky, there is nothing absolutely incorrect in their often strange outline.† Especially in Scotland, where, in comparison with more favoured regions, the antlers of the red deer are most insignificant. + We remember but one instance where an imperfect acquaintance with the formation of the feature in question is disclosed. It is in the otherwise charming The antlers, as Landseer gives them, always greatly heighten, sometimes indeed wholly make, the effect. He goes occasionally to the very utmost limits that he safely can. A step further, and the consequence would be bombast and caricature. · There being such a diversity in the growth of antlers, their sweep and formation indeed often surpassing our most fanciful imaginings, we think it is to be regretted that Landseer should introduce, as the point of attraction or interest, the same 'head' which has already figured in a former picture. Its mighty beam and long brow antlers may make it very effective; but others are to be found quite as much so, and there were no need for the Monarch of the Glen' to wear the same royal diadem we had already seen tossed skywards by The Stag at Bay.' We may be called hypercritical in this, but be it remembered that the antlers of a stagare his badge, the featureby which he is known and identified year after year, on mountain and in forest, among hundreds of his fellows. They are what a strongly-marked countenance is among men. For, as a sportsman, Sir Edwin will know that there is a personality in a stag as much as in the human race. He is recognised directly he is seen. To put the same stag therefore into several pictures, is as if Wilkie had introduced a characteristic well-known face-the Duke of Wellington's, for instance-in his Reading the Will,' 'Distraining for Rent,' and again in two or three more of his best works. Of all the animals we have seen by this great master, the stag also is the only one in representing which he ever seems to think of an 'effect.' We do not say it is always so; but neither is it always otherwise. Yet with his hinds there is never a trace of such endeavour; they are as if daguerreotyped from nature on to the very canvas itself. The wondering gaze, the listening attitude, the listless gait of unapprehensive safety, the quick look of affright, the whole mien of the timid creature, motion, character, all is marvellously real: a bit of nature complete in itself, with nothing added, and with not one shade of expression overlooked. The group of hinds in the frontispiece to DeerStalking is a gem to be doated on. And his horses, his dogs, look at them! whether on a lady's lap, or in a smithy; a noble Newfoundland or the cur of the dog's-meat man, dogs are they and nothing more, unaffected and never self-conscious.* But the stag of the Highlands is Landseer's hero; and where there is a trace of the heroic' to be found in his picture, 'tis some Grampian royalty that is sure to be its representative. To us who have been among the red deer in their homes, who have watched them when scared, who have seen the stag keeping the maddened bloodhound at bay, and have heard, and followed the while, as he roared with passion, we confess he seems in Landseer's pictures occasionally a little theatrical. He puts himself into position, and 'calls up a look.' At such times there is that about him which we see in the portraits of actors; a certain unmistakeable something, an evident pose which reminds us invariably of the stage. It is not merely a proud bearing, but rather an air of hauteur, which Sir Edwin gives his stags; they are evidently intended for effect, and, to borrow a phrase, are expected to bring down the house.' This is the more striking because Landseer ever seems indifferent about such results; as careless of them as a child how it may have folded its pretty limbs in sleep. We, to whom the stag is no un plate which forms the frontispiece to Mr. Scrope's Deer-Stalking. The antlers of the stag to the right are incorrect. Whatever number of points a stag may have besides those termed 'brow,' 'bray,' and 'tray,' they always belong to, and contribute to form, the group at top composing the crown. Below this group, between it and the bray antler, no point ever shoots out of the beam. In the instance in question there are two such supernumerary points; which, consequently, is wrong. It would not have been wrong, however, if the two, and half a dozen besides, had been added to the crown. * Such pictures as 'High Life,' or 'Jack in Office,' in no wise disprove this assertion for the 'affectation' or 'dignity' in these and similar works is the pith and marrow of the whole. Herein lies the point. familiar sight, deem such imperious air to be out of character. The royal hart is always a magnificent presence, and in such hands as Landseer's cannot fail to be impressive. But when he stands at gaze, wondering, and at a loss to know what sounds disturb him, his bright widely-opened eye seems inquiring rather than defiant. If the breeze has borne towards him the taint of a foe, his sudden start then is marked by apprehension. If the head be flung back, it is to listen; not in pride or with a sense of his dignity. And when in the rutting season he dashes down upon the intruder, or, looking round, challenges him to the battle, there is in his whole mien more of blinding frenzy than of calm conscious power. While pointing out what we consider blemishes, we will, before quitting the subject, allude to one other work of Sir Edwin Landseer, Night' and Morning;' for the two pictures form one whole. The hoof of the outstretched dead stag is considerably too large it is more like the hoof of a horse than of a red deer. The slot of the stag being so peculiar that it can be recognised among numberless traces left on the ground by other animals, the form and dimensions of this strongly marked feature should have been treated with particular attention, its position here being so prominent. It is characteristic of the stag-it is the characteristic, indeed-that the two parts of which the hoof is composed remain, except when pressed on the ground, closer together than they are here drawn in the picture. Though the stag be dead, the hoof does not open in this manner. In Night' we already see the fatal termination of the tournament. 51 them, they had still struggled on a while, and in so doing had changed sides; for the stag of twelve, before on the left, lies now outstretched on the opposite side of the ground. It has been a desperate encounter in the pale moonlight, and the terribly long brow antlers of the stag of ten have told fearfully in the encounter. Morning' is of course intended to give the result of the same joust, to be a continuation, and to show the finale of the preceding event. Being so, the combatants, whether still fighting or already slain, should be the same individuals, and with features and characteristic attributes unchanged. As an hour or so only divides the two events, no material alteration can have occurred. Yet the stag of ten, which in the night had brow, bray, and tray antlers, and no crown, has at day-break a triple crown on the majestic beam. The number of points, it is true, is the same, the bray antler in the latter instance being omitted; but thus the individual is changed, and the hart of twelve now lies enlocked with another antagonist than he was fighting with when we saw him last. Had the stag borne the triple crown in the first scene, we might have thought he had lost one of its embattlements in the clash of the encounter, as sometimes happens ; but the reverse case admits of no explanation. The form of the whole 'head,' too, denotes another stag, even could this difficulty and that of the bray antler be got over. The ground where such contests have taken place is always much broken: the sod is upturned, and all around is trampled and torn, as if two riders had there met in deadly encounter. Even the elastic heather is uprooted, and long furrows in the earth, where the clods have been pushed out, show how one combatant bore back the other, despite the fulcrum of the firmly-planted hoof. The spot where the rivals have fallen bears no traces of the struggle; perhaps, however, they only stagThe hoof of the stag is much more beautifully formed than that of the hind. Hence the difference in the slot of the two animals. While that of the stag is sharp in its outline, and the impress it makes neat and fair, the hind's is slovenly, sprawling, the outline irregular and broken. There are of course many other points of difference in the slot of the two; but we are here speaking merely of the impression which the hoof leaves behind when simply pressing on any soft substance. The stag on the left has received his death thrust, and, but for the support which the desperate charge of his antagonist affords him, would drop to the ground. Yet it would seem that, before death overtook |