The Philippe de Champagne is the head of that eminent French artist after a painting by himself, and it contests the palm with the Pomponne. Mr. Marsh, who is an authority, prefers it. Dr. Thies, who places the latter first in beauty, is constrained to allow that the other is “superior as a work of the graver,” being executed with all the resources of the art in its chastest form. The enthusiasm of Longhi finds expression in unusual praise:—
“The work which goes most to my blood, and of which Edelinck himself was justly proud, is the portrait of Champagne. I shall die before I cease often to contemplate it with ever new wonder. Here is seen how he was equally great as designer and engraver.”[164]
And he then dwells on various details,—the bones, the skin, the flesh, the eyes living and seeing, the moistened lips, the chin covered with a beard unshaven for many days, and the hair in all its forms.
Between the rival portraits by Nanteuil and Edelinck it is unnecessary to decide. Each is beautiful. In looking at them we recognize anew the transient honors of public service. The present fame of Champagne surpasses that of Pomponne. The artist outlives the magistrate. But does not the poet tell us that “the artist never dies”?
As Edelinck passed from the scene the family of Drevet appeared, especially the son, Pierre Imbert Drevet, born in 1697, who developed a rare excellence, improving even upon the technics of his predecessor, and gilding his refined gold. The son was born engraver, for at the age of thirteen he produced an engraving of exceeding merit. Like Masson he manifested a singular skill in rendering different substances by the effect of light, and at the same time gave to flesh a softness and transparency which remain unsurpassed. To these he added great richness in picturing costumes and drapery, especially in lace.
He was eminently a portrait engraver, which I must insist is the highest form of the art, as the human face is the most important object for its exercise. Less clear and simple than Nanteuil, and less severe than Edelinck, he gave to the face individuality of character, and made his works conspicuous in Art. If there was excess in the accessories, it was before the age of Sartor Resartus, and he only followed the prevailing style in the popular paintings of Hyacinthe Rigaud. Art in all its forms had become florid, if not meretricious; and Drevet was a representative of his age.
Among his works are important masterpieces. I name only Bossuet, the famed Eagle of Meaux; Samuel Bernard, the rich Councillor of State; Fénelon, the persuasive teacher and writer; Cardinal Dubois, the unprincipled minister and favorite of the Regent of France; and Adrienne Le Couvreur, the beautiful and unfortunate actress, linked in love with Marshal Saxe. The portrait of Bossuet has everything to attract and charm. There stands the powerful defender of the Catholic Church, master of French style, and most renowned pulpit orator of France, in episcopal robes, with abundant lace, which is the perpetual envy of the fair who look at this transcendent effort. The ermine of Dubois is exquisite; but the general effect of this portrait does not compare with the Bossuet, next to which, in fascination, I put the Adrienne. At her death the actress could not be buried in consecrated ground; but through Art she has the perpetual companionship of the greatest bishop of France.
With the younger Drevet closed the classical period of portraits in engraving, as just before had closed the Augustan age of French literature. Louis the Fourteenth decreed engraving a Fine Art, and established an Academy for its cultivation. Pride and ostentation in the king and the great aristocracy created a demand, which the genius of the age supplied. The heights that had been reached could not be maintained. There were eminent engravers still, but the zenith had been passed. Balechou, who belonged to the reign of Louis the Fifteenth, and Beauvarlet, whose life was protracted beyond the Reign of Terror, both produced portraits of merit. The former is noted for a certain clearness and brilliancy, but with a hardness as of brass or marble, and without entire accuracy of design; the latter has much softness of manner. They were the best artists of France at the time, but none of their portraits are famous. To these may be added another contemporary artist, without predecessor or successor, Étienne Ficquet, unduly disparaged in one of the dictionaries as “a reputable French engraver,” but undoubtedly remarkable for small portraits, not unlike miniatures, of exquisite finish. Among these the rarest and most admired are La Fontaine, Madame de Maintenon, Rubens, and Van Dyck.