of a temple. In this picture, as in the one illustrated on page 387, the artist has exhibited his love for Egyptian architecture, with its massive pillars covered with mysterious symbols. But in the latter work Sir Edward Poynter has made the human element predominant; and the simple, pathetic figure of the patriarch, leaning heavily on his staff and on the shoulder of his long-lost son, stands out in contrast with the languorous splendour of the Pharaoh.
CHRIST IN THE HOUSE OF HIS PARENTS.
(By the late Sir John E. Millais, P.R.A.)
Vastly impressive and weird is Mr. Hacker's "And there was a great cry in Egypt." This artist has on more than one occasion exhibited works of a religious nature at the Royal Academy; but none better than the one before us and "The Annunciation," purchased for the Chantrey Collection, and now in the National Gallery of British Art. The picture reproduced on page 388 illustrates the passage in Exodus (xii. 30): "And there was a great cry in Egypt; for there was not a house where there was not one dead." It is in its suggestiveness that the picture tells: we see none of the horrors of the last plague; they are only suggested in the title. The silent, sorrowing figure of the Angel of Death, sweeping through the city with flaming sword in hand and trailing robe of black—symbol of the train of sorrow he leaves behind him—is noble and dignified. Carried along on swift wings through the deserted streets of the stricken city, the destroyer touches in each household the doomed "first-born," and only that weird, heart-breaking cry rising on the night air tells of the sorrow and misery that mark his track.
The next illustration (page 389) deals with the incident of Moses' second descent from Sinai, bearing the re-written tables of the law, and is the work of J. R. Herbert, R.A. It forms one of the series of frescoes in the House of Lords.
"Ruth and Naomi" (page 393) is one of the best of the Scriptural subjects treated by the late P. H. Calderon, R.A., and hangs in the Walker Art Gallery at Liverpool. The passage illustrated is that in which Ruth makes her impassioned appeal: "Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God"; and the artist has imparted to the beautiful figure of Ruth all the intensity and passion to which the words give utterance.
(By permission of Miss Armitage.)
FAITH.
(By the late E. Armitage, R.A.)
We now pass on to the New Testament—the section most favoured by artists, for the attraction of its central Figure is as overpowering for the painter of to-day as it has been to those of the intervening ages. The picture on page 390 of "Christ in the House of His Parents," by the late Sir John Millais, is one of the earliest and most noted of the painter's works. When exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1850 (Millais was then but twenty years of age), it had for its inscription, "And one shall say unto him, What are these wounds in thine hands? Then he shall answer, Those with which I was wounded in the house of my friends" (Zechariah xiii. 6). The picture aroused a veritable storm of hostile criticism, scorn and contumely being poured on painting and painter alike. Charles Dickens, in his Household Words, pronounced it as "mean, odious, revolting, and repulsive," and other critics found fault with it in equally strong language. It was then that the title of "The Carpenter's Shop" was scornfully bestowed upon it, and by which it has since been generally known: it has, however, long been recognised as one of the most wonderful contributions to modern British art, quite apart from any consideration of the age of the artist when he painted it. The perfect draughtsmanship, the wonderful colouring, the marvellous skill displayed in the whole composition, were all overlooked by the contemporary critics; all they considered was the—to them—execrable taste of the artist in representing Christ in an ordinary carpenter's shop! The beautiful allegories contained in the work were all ignored, and abuse for the conception alone given place.
"ECCE HOMO!"
(By Professor Ciseri.)
And yet, when it is examined, what is there to find fault with in this respect? Absolutely nothing. The artist set himself to paint from nature; the work appeals directly to the observant eye by its simple force; even the symbols are not intricate when carefully considered. The Child, whilst playing with the pincers in His father's workshop, has injured His hand on a rusty nail protruding from the wood on the bench. Joseph draws back the fingers to examine the wound (the symbolism of which is obvious enough), and Mary, with grief and motherly anxiety portrayed on every line of her face, seeks to soothe the Boy, and with a piece of linen prepares to bind up the hand. St. John is coming with a bowl of water with which to bathe the injury, and St. Anne leans forward to remove the tool which contributed to the hurt. On the ladder against the wall rests a dove—the emblem of peace—and through the open doorway can be seen a flock of sheep huddled close to a fence, emblematical of the faithful, the Church of Christ. Farther out in the meadow is a well—the well of Truth.
(Reproduced by permission from the Original Painting in the possession of the Liverpool Corporation.)
RUTH AND NAOMI.
(By P. H. Calderon, R.A.)
The picture was painted on commission for Mr. Farrar, the well-known dealer, for the sum of £250—a large sum in those days for a work by a young man.
This picture will form the subject of one of the fine art plates offered to readers of The Quiver, on conditions which are stated elsewhere in this number. Lord Leighton's well-known painting "The Star in the East," and the masterpieces of four other eminent artists, will also be included; the whole forming a set of sacred pictures, suitable for framing, of permanent value and interest for every Christian home as well as every Sunday school and mission hall.
The other picture by Millais, which is reproduced as the frontispiece to this number, was based upon a drawing which the artist made for Messrs. Routledge, in 1853, for a series of "The Parables of our Lord." The painting, however, was not made until 1862, when it was exhibited at the Royal Academy. It was afterwards totally destroyed in a gas explosion at Baron Marochetti's house.
The picture "Faith," by the late E. Armitage, R.A. (see page 391), is an excellent illustration of the passage, "For she said within herself, If I may but touch His garment, I shall be whole."
The tragedy of the betrayal, and the perfidy of Judas, have been the subjects of innumerable pictures; and that of "Judas," by Henry Tidey, which we reproduce, is typical of many. The betrayer is represented here when leaving the house in which is being held the sacred feast on the night of the betrayal. The pose of the man reveals the shame which he is feeling; hesitating yet as to whether his fell purpose shall be accomplished.
(In the possession of Mrs. Noble.)
JUDAS GOING OUT.
(By Henry Tidey.)
The illustration on page 392 shows us the memorable scene when Pilate exclaims to the multitude surrounding the palace, "Behold the Man!" The work of a modern Italian artist, this picture is an admirable rendering of the tragic event, the subdued patience of the central Figure contrasting strongly with that of the subservient prefect.
Arthur Fish.
[New Serial Story.
FOR THE SAKE OF HER CHILD.