There is a bourgeois objection to them on the ground that nobody now cares for Juno or any of the heathen gods and demi-gods; but I should like to ask these objectors if they think that any one cares now for the “Vicar of Wakefield” and his family, or for “Tom Jones” and his Sophia, and yet pictures illustrative of these old-fashioned novels are painted every day, and often meet with great success.
It is quite a mistake to suppose that in order to admire or appreciate pictures we must take a lively interest in the biography of the dramatis personæ. Jove, Mars, Venus, and Hercules are of interest to us now, just as they probably were to the Athenians in the time of Phidias and Praxiteles, namely, as representatives of power, courage, beauty, and strength; and so long as these qualities are valued by the human race, so long will their personifications continue to be interesting.
Historical subjects may be divided into two classes:—
1. Those where the interest is solely derived from the rank or historical importance of the personages depicted.
2. Those which, from their nature, are dramatically interesting, independently of the names of the personages.
What are commonly called “official pictures” belong to the first class, such as coronations, royal marriages, and ceremonials of all descriptions. Such pictures as Terburg’s “Council of Trent,” and others of the same kind, belong to this category, because all the interest of the work lies in the faithful portraiture of the figures. Deprive the figures of their historical importance, and all interest in the subject (as a subject) vanishes. Of course the picture may have technical excellences which may make it interesting and valuable, but this has nothing to do with the point at issue.
Any trivial incident from the domestic lives of Queen Elizabeth, Charles I, Cromwell, Frederick the Great, etc. (specimens of which are to be found in every exhibition), belong essentially to this class of subjects.
I would hardly class our old friend, “Alfred Minding the Cakes,” with these subjects, simply because he did not mind them; and the contrast between the disguised monarch’s thoughtful and anxious look and the humble task to which he had been set is sufficiently interesting per se. Had he done his task cleverly, and toasted the muffins to a turn, this time-honored but apocryphal subject would have been a good specimen of the class I am speaking of.
The following are a few more subjects which will illustrate my meaning:—“Milton Dictating ‘Paradise Lost’ to his Daughters”; “Francis I Picking up Titian’s Brush”; “Sir Isaac Newton Watching an Apple Fall”; “Hampden Refusing to Pay Ship-money.” In all these and similar subjects you will observe that no human passions are concerned. The only reason for painting them at all is either because such famous men as Titian, Francis I, and Milton are engaged in them, or because they led to very important scientific and political consequences, as in the falling apple and the ship-money instances.
I would give as instances of the second class of historical subjects:—“The Death of Seneca”; “Charlemagne Crossing the Alps”; “Cæsar Landing in Britain”; “Queen Boadicea Haranguing the Iceni.”