Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 7, No. 40, February, 1861 | Page 5

with the rugged forces of his age. His sitters have come from more
peaceful, nobler walks of life,--and their portraits are beloved even
more than they are admired. Not yet are they the pride of pompous
galleries, but the glory and saintliness of homes.
Could we enter these homes, and discuss freely the character of their
treasures, we would gladly linger in the presence of the more precious.
But so inseparably associated are they with their originals, so much
more nearly related to them than to the artist, that no fitting analysis
can be made of the representation without involving that of the
individual represented.
Three portraits have, however, such wonderful excellence, and through
this excellence have become so well known, that we may be forgiven
for alluding to them. In a former paper, the writer spoke of the portrait
of a man in his divinest development. The first of these three works is
the representation of a woman, and is truly "somewhat miraculous." It
is a face rendered impressive by the grandest repose,--a repose that
pervades the room and the soul,--a repose not to be mistaken for
serenity, but which is power in equilibrium. No brilliancy of color, no
elaboration of accessories, no intricacy of composition attracts the
attention of the observer. There is no need of these. But he who is
worthy of the privilege stands suddenly conscious of a presence such as
the world has rarely known. He feels that the embodiment before him is
the record of a great Past, as well as the reflection of a proud
Present,--a Past in which the soul has ever borne on through and above
all obstacles of discouragement and temptation to a success which was
its inheritance. He sees, too, the possibilities of the near Future; how
from that fine equipoise the soul might pass out into rare manifestations,
appearing in the sweetness and simplicity of a little child, in the fearful
tumultuousness of a Lady Macbeth, in the passionate tenderness of a
Romeo, or in the Gothic grandeur of a Scotch sorceress,--in the love of

kindred, in the fervor of friendship, and in the nobleness of the truest
womanhood.
Another portrait--can it have been painted in this century?--presents a
widely different character. We have seen the rendering of a nature
made too solemn by the possession of genius to admit of splendor of
coloring. This picture is that of ripe womanhood, manifesting itself in
the fulness of summer's goldenest light. Color, in all its richness as
color, in all its strength as a representative agent, in all its glory as the
minister of light, in all its significance as the sign and expression of
plenitude of life,--life at one with Nature;--thus we remember it, as it
hung upon the wall of that noble room in the Roman home of
Crawford.
A later portrait, and one artistically the finest of Mr. Page's productions,
although executed in Rome, has found a home in Cambridge. Here no
grave subdual of color was called for, nor was there any need of its
fullest power,--but, instead thereof, we have color in the purity of its
pearl expression. A mild lustre, inexpressibly clear, seems to pervade
the picture, and beam forth the revelation of a white soul. Shadows
there are none,--only still softer light, to carry back the receding forms.
But interest in technicalities is lost in the nobler sense of sweet
influences. We are at peace in the presence of a peace which passeth all
understanding. We are holy in the ineffable light of immortal holiness.
We are blessed in the consciousness of complete harmony.
Surely, none but a great painter could have achieved such success;
surely, no mere painter could thus have appealed to us.
These works we have chosen to represent the artist's power in the
direction of portraiture,--not only because of their wonderful merit as
embodiments of individualism, but to illustrate a law which has not yet
had its due influence in art, but which must be the very life of its next
revival, when painting shall be borne up until it marks the century.
We refer to the expressional power of color,--not the conventional
significance whereby certain colors have been associated arbitrarily
with mental conditions. This last has often violated all the principles of
natural relation; yet no fact is more generally accepted than this,--that
colors, from the intensity of the primitives to the last faint tints derived
therefrom, bear fixed and demonstrable relations to the infinite moods
and phases of human life. As among themselves the hues of the palette

exist in immutable conditions of positive affinity or repulsion, so are
they all related to the soul as definitely in harmony or in discord. There
has been imperfect recognition of this at various times in the history of
painting since