Evidently she has some knitting under way, and the work comes to a pause while she winds a new skein of yarn. The little toddler may now make himself useful by holding the skein. He is proud of the honor and watches the rapidly moving thread with fascinated eyes. So deftly do the fingers untangle the snarls that the task is converted into a game as absorbing as a cat's cradle puzzle. Even the older lad, of the manly age to feel himself superior to such amusements, peers over the little one's shoulder with genuine curiosity. In the excitement of their occupation, the little knitter's straw bonnet has slipped from her head far down her back, leaving the plump neck exposed to the sun.
The full significance of the picture is best understood in contrast with the companion subject, War. The two pictures have been called by a critic "true poem-pictures." The painter means to show here that the choicest blessing of Peace is the prosperity of the humbler classes, who are the bulwark of the nation. Agricultural pursuits can flourish only when arms are laid down. Happy is the land where innocent children and dumb beasts can roam in safety over the country.
The long level stretch of land and sea adds much to the impression of tranquillity in the picture. The imagination has a delightful sense of liberty in great spaces. Ruskin has told us that this is because space is the symbol of infinity. However we may explain it, we certainly have here a pleasant sense of looking across illimitable space over a world flooded with sunshine.
The picture recalls the stories of Landseer's first lessons in drawing in the pastures near his boyhood home. Here he practised all day on sheep, which are the best subjects for the beginner, because they keep still so long! In later years his preference was for animals of livelier action, but in this exceptional instance, as if in reminiscence of his youth, he painted a pastoral scene with much artistic feeling.
There are a good many more figures in the picture than are usual with our painter, and he therefore had a more difficult problem in bringing all the parts into harmonious relations. It is interesting to contrast it with the altogether different kind of composition in the companion picture of War.
VIII
WAR
In the exigencies of war a stone cottage seems to have been used as a part of some rudely improvised earthworks. A detachment of cavalry has made a charge against this rampart, and the place now lies in ruins. To the smoke of battle is added the smoke of burning timbers rising in a dense cloud, which shuts out the surrounding scenes as with an impenetrable curtain. Below the breach, in a confused heap amidst the débris, lie some of the victims of the disaster. There are two dragoons, vigorous men in the prime of life, and their two splendid horses.
The man lying most plainly in sight has the appearance of an officer, from the sash worn diagonally over his steel coat. He has fallen backward on the ground beside his horse, one booted leg still resting across the saddle. His face, well cut and refined, is turned slightly away, and the expression is that of a peaceful sleeper.