career, he must regret years lost whilst obscurely labouring at the elementary stages of his profession, when he might have been guided onward with expedition and certainty by those already familiar with the road, or aided by a causeway of education constructed so as to smooth all difficulties except those incident to the journey and his own incapacity for the effort. In this age of organisation, when men work less and less by their sole hand, and combine more in every pursuit in life, it seems strange that art throughout its branches should in this country have a strong bias in the contrary direction. During the great period which culminated in the Renaissance, art was among the most highly trained and organised of all human pursuits. Almost as much may be said of the continental schools at the present day. We produce a surprising number of original thinkers, but are a source of perplexity to our brothers on the Continent, who admit that we have many artists through natural aptitude, but deny, and with reason, that we have any national school. The English are becoming in the year 1879 a highly educated race. Schools are endowed for all classes and every profession; the higher mathematics will soon be as familiar as the alphabet, and the thumb of labour must ere long grow intimate with the leaves of the Greek Testament. The schoolmaster inflates our progeny to gigantic proportions, whilst we creep feebly about among our offspring's feet. So be it; let art share in the coming benefits; let the young artist claim his place among the intellectual giants thus matured; I challenge the divine instinct of this generation to organize his efforts, and devise a scheme for his scientific instruction.

In art, as in every other branch of education, there are two chief modes of instruction open to a people. Either the nation undertakes the duty, through its Government, and acts by endowed schools and colleges, tested by public examination (the Government becoming responsible for the result); or professions gradually crystalise into corporate bodies, undertake their own training, and supply the instruction necessary for their advance, In this country it has been a problem which of these two modes is the better fitted for art; neither system has obtained, and art-education has fallen betwixt two stools.

A little more than a century ago a body of English artists petitioned their monarch, who, at their request, constituted a Royal Academy of Arts. Their first President was a man of genius, and among them were men of great worth and talent. The constitution of the Academy was so framed as to give the members several privileges, as well as academic honours, for which they undertook corres ponding duties. They bound themselves to become the accredited exponents of the art of their country; yearly to place the best artistic works before the public, and, above all, to conduct a national school of art by academic teaching. They were to replenish their body by election from among the most worthy aspirants for the honours of the Academy, and thus to remain in harmony with their profession

and with the nation. As is usual with corporations, the honours and privileges grew to be more insisted on than the duties they under took, and the reason is not far to seek. A body corporate is always jealously alive to its own side of the bargain, whilst the public often grows indifferent to the service for which it has stipulated at the time of creation. For half a century after the Academy had received its charter, the nation was occupied in anything rather than art and artists; the genius of the race was bent on war, politics, and trade, and turned a disdainful eye towards the adornment of life. During that period, the Royal Academy, although retaining its honours and privileges, performed but the semblance of its duties; it prospered, and was well satisfied, and so was the public. Years advanced, and in their train followed success in war, increase of liberty, wealth and well-being before unheard of; and with these, an interest in all connected with art again revived. The Royal Academy found itself suddenly brought to a reckoning by the public for the neglect of its duties, but time had sanctified its vested rights; the foundation of its house had petrified, and no storm could shake the structure.

Probably, had the attention of the nation been turned towards the fine arts whilst the Acamedy was still young and in a plastic condition, a school of art worthy of the British nation might have been developed. But indifference on one side engendered neglect on the other; who shall say that the Royal Academy is more to blame than the nation, because it has not succeeded in the principal object for which it was constituted? The school was starved and neglected, and grew to be a cripple whilst still in arms; both parents were equally neglectful, and both to blame.

The renewed interest of the nation was first appreciated by the authorities of South Kensington. Sir Henry Cole, taking the first of the tide, with a splendid audacity rode on the back of his department over the whole Empire; the force of the sustaining stream must have been prodigious, and so was the energy of the man who took the lead. Schools of art were established from one end of Great Britain to the other; India was invaded, and our farthest colonies were impregnated with South Kensington ideas; but art did not benefit in proportion. The endeavours of the department were directed to the advancement of manufactures through the assistance of art, and it cemented an alliance of the two; but a school of art in the higher sense was not within the scheme of the department, or if it were, it withered before it grew to any fair proportion.

These efforts are worthy of consideration, and were made at different times and in opposite directions: one by the agency of a corporate body, the other through a department of the Government; the one untimely crippled through want of vitality, the other diverted into side channels. Nevertheless, they have not been without excellent results; the creation of a Royal Academy was an acknowledgment of the importance of ert by the body politic, and the honours

accorded to its members by the Crown placed all artists on a higher social level than they had hitherto held. South Kensington and its numerous dependencies brought art and manufacture into a close alliance, but has neither succeeded in giving art a proper school, nor in obtaining for artists that status in society that they hold in other countries.

In order to appreciate the isolation of the English artist as com pared with his brothers on the Continent, we have only to look over the catalogue of the different sections of the Fine Arts in the Universal Exhibition held at Paris last year. Glancing down the list of the French exhibitors, it is impossible to avoid remarking the constant recognition of their merit by the State, and the honours they achieve in their career. On examination, one is struck by the number of men whose early promise has been fostered byt he State, who have studied at Rome in the Academy, and whose works have been purchased for the nation. The catalogue runs somewhat thus; "E. Blanc, born at such a town, studied at such a local school, became pupil under such a painter, won such and such medals, is of such a rank in the Legion of Honour." Here is a brief epitome of his success, of equal significance to himself as to the public. He is not only acknowledged as an honour to his profession, but to his country; further, it appears that he is one of a brotherhood who have studied under some acknowledged master, and who are bound by ties of scholarship to each other.

Turning to the English section, name follows name, without any illustration whatever, excepting the occasional R.A. or A.R.A., that is well understood; so many names to so many works, and all is told. It may be urged that Englishmen do not care for the recognition of their merit by the State, and are satisfied with the solid rewards of their profession; that they despise the bit of ribbon so eagerly sought for by a French citizen, and think it unbecoming and frivolous. But although an inch of colour at the button-hole may offend the sobriety of our race, can it be doubted that, were some mode adopted by which the nation were to mark its approval of excellence, either in art or science, it would be eagerly sought for ? It would imply honour, and that is a nobler incentive than gain.

It would be unreasonable at the present time to endeavour to change the fabric of British art, which has been a century in development; its web is of such proportions, and of so complicated a texture, that praise is rather due to those who assist in keeping it in working order. Also the genius of the race is closely interwoven with its growth, and sanctifies with its glory the system it has helped to create. Rather let us consider how our present system may be developed in new directions, so as to give us all that we can desirebetter instruction, honour, and continued prosperity. Let education stand foremost in this trio, and be our first appeal to the Royal Academy. It is bound by the terms of its charter to fulfil this duty;

it includes most of the celebrated artists of the nation, and is the only body in the realm which, by its wealth and position, has the power to undertake such a duty, and above all because noblesse oblige. It is possible that some among its number may consider the present schools of the Academy sufficient to redeem all their pledges to the nation. With them there can be no dispute; we have to deal with the brain of the Academy, and to that we appeal. Although most of its members are anxious to do nobly by the nation, they may find their action shackled by those who wish to keep the even tenor of their old way. If it be not a haven where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest, then what good shall their lives do unto them? The vis vitæ of the institution has of late received a fresh impulse, and with it a fresh development may probably follow. There is one means by which, in any case, those who desire to assist English art may help the advance of a new era. They may induce her chief men tc form schools of their own, and transmit their art and their reputation to a younger generation. All great artists have done this in past times, and do so still on the Continent. Were half a dozen masters of our own nation to undertake the task, a wonderful progress would soon be apparent; brotherhoods would spring up, and with them a keener rivalry in all excellence. Men fit to head the chief sections of thought would take the lead, and the next generation of students would find itself under trained leaders. Suppose that such men as Millais, Watts, Burne Jones, Sir F. Leighton, Poynter, Hook, and others were to gather round them a number of sympathetic students, is it not evident that the mass of knowledge which they have accumulated would fructify in the minds of others, and not expire with their own lives?

Alas for the knowledge that has died out with Reynolds, Constable, and Crome! Each might have instructed a succession of great painters, whose education would have redounded to their glory. What of Turner, who lived the intimate crony of Nature for sixty years, and learned from her fresh secrets day by day? What a storehouse of knowledge came to naught at his death! Have we not lost enough? Let this isolation be abandoned. Remember how the old Italian artists lived and died amidst their schools; how knowledge was accumulated and kept alive through a thousand channels; how new affluents joined to widen the swelling river of Italian art, till it has flooded the whole of Europe with its glory.

A future no less great may be in store for the art of England. It springs from the loins of a race that dominates the world, sections of which will probably form half a dozen great nations, and civilise a third part of the earth. What a field in which to fructify; what an Empire to influence! Such need be no dream of ambition; it is the birthright of all living Englishmen. Here the artist has a more open area for success than those who would achieve fame in other felds of thought. In all other efforts our race can point to a supreme

L. M. I.-16.

mind. Bacon, Shakespeare, Locke, and other giants stands forth; but a supreme artist is still wanting to illustrate our race, and challenge comparison with the world. The beginning of all fresh growth must be at first feeble. A little thing will crush the acorn that may become an oak. Thus I fear that many small difficulties may deter our masters from taking on themselves duties to which they are unaccustomed, although it were the only mode of insuring a great future. Among the chief is the loss of time, and the consequent loss of profit; and if artists will not sacrifice some portion of these, then would our acorn be crushed at once. I will not believe that art alone, among the liberal professions, is so ignobly selfish. Artists will do what the members of other professions un dertake, and will devote a certain portion of their time for the good of the commonwealth. If they do not gather quite so great riches, they will reap the more honour, and obtain an influence which may reward them in many unexpected ways.

The same difficulty meets us in another guise. It is urged that the pupils themselves may forsake their master to make profit of their immature knowledge. This is very seldom the case in other countries, and I cannot believe that English Students are less alive to their own honour and their true interests than those of other races. Another difficulty appears to be the limited size of our studios, and the consequent difficulty of accommodating pupils. This may be surmounted by the payment of such a bonus to the master as will enable him to procure his pupils the very simple accommodation that is required. Every new procedure in life must entail a readjustment of its surroundings; but I see no grievous difficulty, if the will to act be only present. Let but half a dozen, let but only two inaugurate the work, and a new epoch will dawn.

If the leaders of the profession are to accept new duties, let the Government revise the teaching of its schools. Let South Kensington and its numerous affiliations offer the means of a real preparation for the higher branches of art, and fit pupils for the more advanced teaching that will open to them. The scholars of a master ought to be grounded in the grammar of their profession. A professor does not teach the syntax, but deals with the literature he professes. Let the Government recognise excellence in art, and give it an honourable distinction. The absence of some acknowledgment to merit is a great defect in our body politic, and tends to make wealth the only measure of success. The often-quoted sentiment. that duty is an all-in-all reward to our race, is put forth as an excuse for ignoring those who deserve public distinction in unofficial life. Were it the custom of the country to leave merit unmarked in all professions and in every rank, under the plea that all Englishmen do their duty, and are therefore equally meritorious, there would be a fine flavour of honourable pride in the myth; but that is no longer our belief. The nation distributes honours, and gives