Meissonier, his life and his art . a very chaos of ideas ! At Berlin the walls ofthe staircase are covered with colossal figures which are absolutelyunmeaning. We are franker here, and do not deceive any one. Thewine is by no means always first-rate ; often it is sour stuff, butwe serve it up for what it is. . W hen I saw Delacroixs Jl/z/n/er of the Archbishop of Liege theother day, it no longer impressed me as it used to do. There is no crowd, no press of heads one behind another,looking eagerly at whatis going on ; no one isclimbing up to see;there is no one seems tohave his ow
Meissonier, his life and his art . a very chaos of ideas ! At Berlin the walls ofthe staircase are covered with colossal figures which are absolutelyunmeaning. We are franker here, and do not deceive any one. Thewine is by no means always first-rate ; often it is sour stuff, butwe serve it up for what it is. . W hen I saw Delacroixs Jl/z/n/er of the Archbishop of Liege theother day, it no longer impressed me as it used to do. There is no crowd, no press of heads one behind another,looking eagerly at whatis going on ; no one isclimbing up to see;there is no one seems tohave his own littlepeep-hole, from whichhe can see things com-fortably. Antitheses, such asare fashionable nowa-days, seem to me outof place in a picture, everythingshould help the generaleffect. The sky shouldharmonise with the idea, nature with man. In many cases, this comesabout involuntarily. What an admirable symphony! Every one should take off theirhats as they pass. I always do, as you know. We never come this way A A. BRONZE BVST OF MEISSONIER BY ST. MARCEAVX. (Modelled frcm Life.) 178 MEISSONIER without stopping. I know nothing to equal this personification ofstupid brute force. When we see the huge beast pierced by the lancewe feel that that monstrous paw would have crushed everything. Whata dream of genius are those vast distances which make us dream inturn ! painted his lions and tigers with all their passions ; as tohis Medcca, it is inimitable. There are passages in which the handlingis extraordinary, recalling that of Correggio. Delacroixs imagination often needed help from outside. He didnot always invent himself. Like Shakespeare, he required a text. Delacroix was never in the East. What a dream of genius is hisEntrde dcs Croisis (Cmsaders at Constantinople) ! What colour !What movement ! What calm and mysterious grandeur in many aspects of Versailles !As you mount the huge flight of steps, behind which the palace risesslowly, step by step, its size
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