CHAPTER IV.

LATE WORKS--CONCLUSION--THE PAINTER AND HIS ART.

Overbeck, as we have seen, deliberately laid out his life for

tranquillity; but not sheltered, as Fra Angelico, in a cloister, his

serene mind was at times clouded by trouble. First came the death of his

son, then he lost a brother, and afterwards was bereaved of his wife.

All accounts tell that the darling son, Alfons Maria, inherited the rare

gifts of the father, and unhappily also was a sharer in like bodily

frailty. He had been reared with tenderest solicitude, in the hope that

he might carry on the good work. The profession chosen was that of

architecture, an art which the Christian painter felt to be of a "mystic

nature," being something "musical," and "the visible emblem of religious

enthusiasm." But the bright promise was soon darkened: the youth died in

the autumn of 1840, at the early age of eighteen. The father in

overwhelming sorrow recounts, in a letter to Emilie Linder, how he had

watched over the sick bed, and had snatched up a pencil by the quarter

of an hour to assuage his grief. The boy was dutiful, and filled with

filial love--he was so good that the people called him a saint. The

stricken parent turned to art as "a crutch to support his lameness, and

as a solace to his tears."

The picture of _The Entombment_, or rather _The Pietà_, in Lübeck, tells

of the mind's heavy burden. In 1837 an association had been formed, and

money subscribed among friends and admirers, who desired that the native

city should possess some work worthy of the painter's renown. In 1842,

on the completion of the first sketch and the cartoon, a letter arrived

in Lübeck, saying that the grief through which the artist had passed was

thrown into a composition that expressed the uttermost anguish of the

soul. And again, in 1846, on the completion of the work, the Christian

man writes, praying that this "lamentation over the death of the Son of

God may arouse in the spectator true faith and repentance. May this

painting, begun in tears for my own and only son, and finished in grief

for the loss of my dear brother, draw tears from the eyes of Him who

shed not only tears, but blood, in order that His death might be our

life. Such aim have I always in my art, without which it would seem

idle, indeed blasphemous."

_The Pietà_[1] was exhibited in Rome, and friendly criticisms were

followed by final touches, with the filial intent to make a worthy

offering to the parental city. In March, 1846, Overbeck announces, in

the most modest terms, that the labour of love had at length been

dispatched to Lübeck, and, much to his joy, a quiet side chapel of the

choir of the Marien Kirche was chosen for its resting-place. The

impression on entering this secluded spot, shut in by a locked gate, is

almost startling; the eye gazes, as it were, on the actual scene: the

figures are life-size; the pictorial style is, perhaps, all the more

persuasive because it belongs to a remote time--nothing modern breaks

the spell of sacred associations. The spectator is transported to a

sphere super-mundane, and altogether religious. The dead Christ, well

modelled and a fine piece of flesh painting, lies stretched on the

ground in a white winding-sheet, and, as sometimes with the old

painters, the body seems not dead but sleeping, as if expectant of

resurrection. The composition is strictly traditional, indeed the

_Pietà_ of Perugino in the Pitti Palace has been implicitly followed:

around are the holy women weeping, with disciples and Nicodemus and

Joseph of Arimathæa. Every head, hand, and drapery, are thoroughly

studied. Dark rocks, lofty cypresses, and distant hills, make up a

landscape which adds solemnity and depth of colour. Within a few

minutes' walk of the Marien Kirche and this _Pietà_ still remains

Memling's masterpiece, which, as already related, had deeply impressed

the youthful painter while yet in the Lübeck home, but allegiance had

been long, we know, transferred from old German to Italian art, and

accordingly the style adopted recalls well-remembered compositions by

Francia, Fra Bartolommeo, and Perugino. Not a single new motive

intrudes; in fact, Overbeck no more desired a new art than a new

religion; for him the old remained unchangeably true,--sacred characters

were handed down immutably as by apostolic succession; he would

rearrange an attitude, but feared to lose personal identity; he desired

that this _Pietà_ should awaken such holy associations as environ old

pictures.

Overbeck received a commission from a Yorkshire squire, Mr. Rhodes, to

paint an altar-piece for the Protestant church of St. Thomas, in Leeds,

recently built from the design of Mr. Butterfield. Naturally the

Incredulity of the Apostle was chosen as the subject, and the picture[2]

reached completion in 1851. The composition is in no way out of keeping

with the Anglican Church; it is without taint of Romanism; but we are

told by Ernst Förster, the Munich critic,[3] that "people were not well

pleased with the work," at all events it never reached its destined

place. Mr. Rhodes had brought the picture to England from Overbeck's

studio, and being for disposal, it was offered to Mr. Beresford Hope,

who gladly became the owner, at the price of 300_l_., the modest sum

asked by the artist. The scene is thrown upon canvas with the painter's

habitual simplicity, brevity, and breadth. Christ in commanding, yet

benignant, attitude, with arm uplifted, utters the words: "Reach hither

thy hand and thrust it into my side, and be not faithless, but

believing." The Apostle reverently approaches. Beyond stretches a

distant landscape with a mountain-height that might be mistaken for the

crested summit of Soracte. The lines of composition flow symmetrically,

the sentiment has quiet dignity, with that sense of the divine presence

which seldom fails the painter. The picture hangs in the drawing-room of

Mr. Hope's town-house, and, though painted for a church, conforms to

domestic uses, not being "too bright or good for human nature's daily

food." The personation of the Saviour when once seen will not be

forgotten; the figure, indeed, was cherished by the artist, for the

motive with slight variation is repeated in _The Vocation of the

Apostles James and John_ (_see_ Illustration), and again in _The

Sacrament of Marriage_. Overbeck had none of the modern unrest which

seeks novelty for its own sake; as a Christian artist, his growth was

that of grace; and, if tested here and elsewhere by the worthiness of

his conception of the God-Man, no painter attained a more heavenly

ideal. It is hard to realise on earth a more perfect divinity than seen

in the design _Feed my Sheep_. _The Incredulity of St. Thomas_ has been

exhibited in England twice; first in 1853, in the Royal Academy, where,

I remember, it was honoured with a conspicuous place in the large room;

afterwards, in 1857, it was seen in the Manchester Art Treasures. As far

as I know, it is the only large and important work of the master

submitted to the English public.

Overbeck, thirteen years after the death of his son, was in 1853 bereft

of his wife, who had been his companion and caretaker for more than

thirty years. She died suddenly, yet, as her husband thankfully records,

with all the consolations the soul could desire. She had in the morning

been to church and taken the sacrament; she was then seized with

difficulty of breathing, but, on reaching home, revived, and raised her

voice to the praise and glory of God; after, she grew worse, desired to

see the priest, received extreme unction, and so died.

The good painter, when the help-mate of his life was taken away, felt

utterly desolate and disabled. He had never been accustomed to look

after the house; some thirty poor families are said to have been

dependent on his bounty; but as for himself he took little thought, and

all he desired was to be saved from mundane cares. In Rome there

happened to be a certain family of Hoffmanns, who, like the painter, had

forsaken Protestantism for Catholicism. They were endowed with the

worldly faculties in which the Christian artist was wanting, and so a

close relationship had conveniently grown up. Overbeck, on the death of

his wife, being absolutely incapable of getting on alone, arranged to

live with this family; moreover, he adopted Madame Hoffmann, a lady of

forty, as his daughter, and the adoption included the husband and the

children. They seem to have made him comfortable, and letters exist

which give expression to his gratitude. They, on their side, reaped

their reward, inasmuch as on the death of the good artist they came into

the possession of the contents of his studio, his papers, and

correspondence, moneys, and all other properties. After the aforesaid

family arrangement, the blood relations found little favour, and all who

bore the name of Overbeck were cut off without a shilling.

Earthly trouble did but turn the painter's gaze heavenwards, and his

art, which in time of trial came as consolation, grew all the more

spiritual as it passed through waters of affliction. Few painters, even

in the good old days, obtained so sympathetic a public. Belief in a

mission begat like faith in others, and so solicitations came for

drawings and pictures far in excess of available time and strength.

Certain commissions could not be entertained, secular subjects had been

long eschewed, religion and the Church were alone accounted worthy of

service. Therefore, in genial mood, was the great picture for Cologne

Cathedral undertaken and carried out. The work occupied no less than

nine years; the cartoon was already in course of preparation in 1846,

and the picture reached completion in 1855. But, as with other

engagements, the negotiations and preliminary correspondence extended

over a longer period. Thus, as far back as 23rd August, 1829, Overbeck,

while working on the Assisi fresco, writes from Santa Maria degli Angeli

to his friend Mosler, stating that the Düsseldorf Kunst-Verein wish for

some picture; but prior engagements stand in the way: he foresees that

on the return to Rome he will find his studio crowded with works begun,

but still unfinished, besides sketches of all sorts and sizes for

pictures not even commenced. He therefore asks for delay, and ends with

apologies for not writing more on the parental plea that "though it is

Sunday, I have long given my promise to my boy Alfons, whose tenth

birthday is to-day, that he shall have a ride on a donkey, and I am all

the more obliged to keep my word because my fresco work here compels me

for the moment to neglect him. We are all, thank God, very well, and

enjoy a thousand blessings in this abode of Paradise." Three months

later he writes under mistaken impressions as to the character of the

commission; he wishes to know the architectural style of the church, and

hopes it may be Gothic; he desires accurate measurements, because the

picture must appear to belong to its destined place, and then ends in

the following characteristic terms: "I repeat once more that the

commission fills me with utmost pleasure, but to you I must confide my

great anxiety, that I fear this picture is destined for a Protestant

church, as I hear it is to be for some newly-built church. Should this,

indeed, be the case, then pray try to give the whole thing another

direction, as such a commission would not suit me at all, and to refuse

it would be very disagreeable to me."

Overbeck's visit to Cologne, in 1831, naturally led to further

conferences concerning the picture for the Cathedral. The proposal, at

first, was that a triptych on a gold ground, in a Gothic frame, should

be painted for the high altar. Drawings were prepared, the general

scheme was approved by Cornelius, and the Archbishop gave his assent.

But objections having been raised on historic or archæologic grounds,

the pictorial reredos was abandoned in favour of the present stone altar

table. The artist felt deeply disappointed, and craved the prayers of

his friend Steinle, who was engaged on the decoration of the choir.

Fortunately, the services of Overbeck were only transferred from the

high altar to the Madonna chapel, renovated to receive _The Assumption_

commissioned to be painted. The cartoon was prepared and approved, and

while engaged on the work the artist expressed himself supremely happy;

he had no higher ambition than to be found worthy of a place in the

great Cathedral.

_The Assumption of the Madonna_[4] is suited to its surroundings; it is

in keeping with the Gothic structure and decorations, and in

companionship with old triptychs and other works which carry the mind

back to remote ages. The composition stands forth as a vision of the

imagination; from the darkness of the grave into the light of the upper

sky rises the Queen of Heaven, borne upwards on angels' wings; midway

sustained by clouds are the adoring host, comprising Adam, Eve, Abraham,

and King David; on the ground below are seen, in miniature, the

disciples around the empty tomb. The whole conception is in perfect

accord with the rites and ceremonies of the Church; while looking at the

picture and listening to the voices in the choir, the harmonies between

form and sound seem fitly attuned.

Overbeck, on the completion of the Cologne picture, revisited Germany

for the second and last time. On the 20th July, 1855, he left Rome,

proceeded to Florence, thence by way of Switzerland reached Frankfort,

and extended his journey as far as Düsseldorf. In Cologne he stayed some

weeks, and a festival, with usual laudatory speeches, was given in his

honour. I happened to encounter the painter during his sojourn; I could

hardly believe my eyes when I discovered the venerable artist gazing

with accustomed placidity at Rubens's brutal representation of _The

Crucifixion of St. Peter_, head downwards. With reverence I approached

the great master, and received a kindly shake of the hand. Overbeck on

the return-journey passed a quiet month at Mayence; he also once more

saw his old friends at Stift Neuburg, near Heidelberg. In Frankfort many

sympathetic hours were spent with his attached companion Steinle, whose

elevated works proved a renewed delight, and whose happy family circle

recalled his own joys and losses. The town of Spires also received a

visit, the inducement being Schraudolph's extensive frescoes, then in

progress within the Cathedral. Posterity has reason to lament that these

important works were not entrusted to the chief of Christian painters.

Some further weeks passed pleasantly among congenial minds in Munich,

but friends were grieved to mark growing infirmities. Overbeck had

reached the age of sixty-six, and Emilie Linder writes sorrowfully, that

he was the only person over whose death she could rejoice, because all

pertaining to the body had become a painful burden. Even the

affectionate demonstrations of his countrymen were too much for him, and

so gladly he turned his steps homewards. Yet not without lingering

regrets did he journey southwards, and on reaching the summit of the

Brenner he writes: "I turned round once more and gave, through the

streams flowing northwards, a last greeting to my German land." After

four months' absence, home comforts brought rest to his troubled mind.

Overbeck, after the death of his wife in 1853, left the Cenci Palace and

went to dwell in the more quiet region of the Esquiline Hill, near the

church of Santa Maria Maggiore. Later on he removed to the house in

which he died, belonging to a convent, in the Via Porta Pia on the

Quirinal Hill, near to the little church of San Bernardo, where he

worshipped and lies buried. I remember the sequestered dwelling on the

Esquiline, lying away from the road in one of those Italian wildernesses

called a garden or a vineyard. The surroundings were inspiring; the eye

wandered among churches and ruins, and beyond stretched the Roman

Campagna, spanned by aqueducts and bounded by the Alban Hills, with

Rocca di Papa, the painter's country retreat. The studio, which on

Sundays continued to be crowded with strangers from all countries, had

little in common with the ordinary run of painting rooms. Showy

sketches, picturesque costumes, gay carpets and draperies, which

commonly make a fashionable lounge, were wholly wanting. Like the studio

of Steinle in Frankfort, all was in keeping with an art not dependent on

outward materials, but reliant on inward thought. Around were ranged

compositions embodying ideas, cartoons and drawings in no way

decorative, but simple and austere studies of form in light and shade,

or slightly tinted. At this period were thus evolved the pictorial

series of the _Via Crucis_ and _The Seven Sacraments_. Turning from

these creations to the painter himself, the visitor might be tempted to

indulge in psychological speculations touching the processes whereby the

spirit of the man passed into objective shape. More and more the old and

solitary master withdrew his affections from earthly concerns, he

approached the close of life as the sun which sets to rise on a new day,

and his art breathed the atmosphere of those pure regions where his

beloved ones were at rest.

In the summer time was usually sought some country abode, not for

remission of labour, but for refreshment through change of scene amid

the beauties of nature. Overbeck, in 1856, was full of work, and in the

autumn he journeyed to Perugia, and took as his travelling companions

the small drawings of the _Via Crucis_. There, in the cradle of Umbrian

art, in the presence of Perugino and Raphael, he carried out the scenes

of _The Passion_. In the hill country of Perugia his thoughts turned to

the hills round about Jerusalem, olive gardens spoke of the Garden of

Gethsemane, a land lovely, yet sad, told of Him who trod the Via

Dolorosa. The painter divided the day between the practice of his art,

Church functions, and social intercourse; he revisited the scenes of his

labours at Assisi, and rejoiced the German Sisterhood of St. Francis by

a visit. The next year the picturesque district of Ariccia was chosen

for summer sojourn, with the advantage of Cornelius within the distance

of a walk. The following autumn the two old friends revisited the spot.

Here the water-colour drawings of the _Via Crucis_, or _The Stations_,

were with earnest solicitude brought to completion.

_The Stations_ in "the history of our Lord" have been accustomed to

comprise Christ's last sufferings, and in their symbolic meaning

"represent the way to Calvary through which the believer is typically

supposed to enter into the inner and holier part of the Church." Such

compositions are almost indispensable to every Roman Catholic place of

worship, however humble; therefore Overbeck, desiring that his art

should at all seasons furnish aids to devotion, designed these fourteen

stations on the Via Dolorosa. According to precedent, the series begins

with _Jesus Condemned_, and ends with _The Entombment_. The compositions

were elaborated in two forms, the one as cartoons, the other as

water-colour drawings.[5] The treatment is, of course, traditional, and

the general style does but suggest the line of criticism with which the

reader must by this time be familiar; more than ever we here encounter

sermons for the edification of the faithful rather than works appealing

to the artist. The notes which a few years since I made before the

drawings in the Vatican read somewhat severe, yet I ought hardly to

withhold the impressions left on the mind. Utmost devotion and sincerity

will be taken for granted, but I found that the excessive striving after

religious feeling degenerated into morbid affectation and spiritual

spasm, that sentiment passed into sentimentality, and that simplicity

scarcely escaped childishness. Throughout became painfully apparent the

lack of physical sinew and dramatic force; the characters, not being

modelled on the life, wanted truth to nature; they were afflicted with a

bodily frailty and mental infirmity wholly unequal to the tragic

situation. These shortcomings in works of noblest motive may be ascribed

to two causes: first, advancing age, with increasing loss of power;

secondly, the confirmed habit of slighting art and ignoring nature in

order to magnify some favourite dogma. Thus the divine painter in late

years missed his aim and marred his work.

These reflections receive confirmation in _The Seven_ _Sacraments_,

compositions which are triumphs of faith at the expense of art. The

painter, however, in fairness, must be allowed to speak for himself. "I

must," he writes, "first set forth what my conception of art is. Art to

me is as the harp of David, whereupon I would desire that Psalms should

at all times be sounded to the praise of the Lord. For when earth and

sea and everything that therein is, when Heaven and all the powers of

Heaven unite in extolling their Creator, how can man fail to join with

every faculty and gift his Maker has endowed him with in this universal

hymn of thanksgiving? And especially how can one of the noblest

attributes he possesses--the creative talent revealed in art--fail to

acknowledge that its highest glory and noblest end consist in offering

in art's own peculiar language Psalms and Songs of Praise to the Lord?

So precisely as Psalms of Praise would I wish to be accepted my seven

representations of the Sacraments, which, as so many fountains of grace,

the Church causes abundantly and ceaselessly to flow. These mercies of

God are the subjects of my seven pictures. As regards their style and

execution, they may be compared to tapestries after the manner of the

Arazzi of Raphael, such as it is customary to display in Italy on feast

days for the adornment of churches, and serving for the instruction of

the people in a language all can understand. Similar tapestries might,

in a more favourable time than the present, have been wrought from these

representations, but they appear now only as designs preparatory to

their possible completion some day in fresco or tempera."[6]

Biblical history received ample exposition in numerous accessory

compositions. Each of _The Seven Sacraments_ was surrounded by a

predella, a frieze, and two side borders. Some of these long spaces

dilated into several themes, and thus the total number of subsidiary

subjects falls little short of forty. The foliated and floral ornament

in style is not Raphaelesque, but more allied to early Gothic; the

manner is graceful but feeble. The scheme embodies types in the Old

Testament with their fulfilment in the New; both conjoined are brought

to bear on the teachings of the Church concerning the Sacraments. Some

of the analogies may appear, at least to outsiders, rather fanciful and

far-fetched. Yet, the mystic meanings thrown around the singularly

lovely composition of _Matrimony_ satisfy at least the poetic sense. The

artist explains how in the frieze is seen the union of Christ with the

Church--the heavenly architype of marriage--celebrated by a choir of

angels. The predella presents a symbol from the Old Testament in Tobias,

who, under divine guidance, obtains a companion for life. One

side-border exemplifies the first institution of matrimony in Paradise;

angels above, in embrace, are scattering flowers. On the opposite side

an angel showers down thorns, and on the ground beneath lies the dead

Saviour, signifying that marriage through suffering obtains its

consecration. The painter ends with the closing prayer that "these seven

Psalms which I have sounded on my harp may exhibit the teaching of the

Church in its beauty and sublimity, and thus do honour to God, to whom

alone are due glory and praise in time and in eternity. Amen."

Neither _The Seven Sacraments_ as works of art, nor the printed notes

thereto as treatises in theology, have been accepted by the world

favourably. Even within the Roman Catholic Church they are deemed rather

ultra; unfortunately the painter could not see when and where his art

became an outrage on the common sense of mankind. His treatment of _Holy

Communion_ in these _Sacraments_, as well as in sundry other designs, is

an instance of the way in which he pushed full far his sacerdotalism. He

habitually departs from the treatment sanctioned by the great masters,

from Giotto to Leonardo da Vinci; in place of a long table whereat all

are seated is a small altar, before which the Apostles kneel; in lieu of

a supper, the cloth is laid with only a plate and chalice, and instead

of the breaking of bread among the disciples, Christ stands apart

elevating a wafer. Now, all religious controversy aside, most minds will

feel that, by thus substituting a fiction for a recorded fact, the

subject is spoilt in point of art. And herein I cannot but recall a

saying of Coleridge to the effect that he who begins by loving his Creed

more than Christianity will end "by loving his Church more than

truth."[7]

Between the Christian artist and the head of the Church grew, as might

be expected, a bond of mutual respect and attachment. Overbeck and Pius

IX. had much in common; they were as brothers in affliction; the age was

unbelieving; they had fallen upon evil days; and each was sustained

alike by unshaken faith in the Church. Concerning _The Stations_, the

drawings of which are in the private rooms of the Vatican, the Pope

showed the liveliest interest, and wrote a letter to the artist full of

apostolic benedictions. He had also evinced his friendly regard by

giving sittings for his portrait. Afterwards, in 1857, came the

commission to paint, for the Quirinal Palace, the large tempera picture

representing Christ miraculously escaping from the Jews, who, according

to the Gospel of St. Luke, had "thrust him out of the city, and had led

him to the brow of the hill whereon the city was built, that they might

cast him down headlong." This astounding composition is the one step

from the sublime to the ridiculous; it represents Christ with the right

foot on the edge of a precipice, the left in the air on the heads of

small angels: it was intended to symbolise the Pope's escape from Rome,

and his subsequent return to the city; and further it expressly

signified the triumph of the spiritual over the temporal power.[8] While

the large and important work was in progress, Pius IX. paid a visit to

the painter in his studio, an event to the honour of modern art

comparable to the old stories touching Francis I. with Leonardo da Vinci

and Philip IV. in the painting-room of Velazquez. This abortive miracle

on canvas left on my mind, when seen in the studio, a very painful

impression, and sound critics--Zahn and others--pronounce the subject as

unpaintable, and the work most unfortunate. Overbeck had not the power

possessed by the old masters of carrying the imagination into the age of

miracle.

I have been at some pains to make the account here given of the

painter's works exhaustive. My opportunities of observation have been

favourable, and yet, especially as no complete biography of the artist

has hitherto been published, some minor works may have escaped my

notice. Here, in conclusion, may fitly come a few additions. _The

Raising of Lazarus_, the exquisite drawing of which, now in the

Düsseldorf Academy, has already received notice, was, in 1822, painted

in oils. _The Death of St. Joseph_, before mentioned, was, in 1838,

reproduced for the private chapel of the newly created Bishop of

Algiers. Also worthy of mention are cartoons of _The Twelve Apostles_

and of _The Four Evangelists_, for the Torlonia chapel at Castel

Gondolfo; a design, _Christ teaching the Lord's Prayer_, for a window in

the church of St. Katherine, Hamburg; sketches, including _The

Coronation of the Virgin_, for a cathedral in Mexico; likewise drawings

of the _Virtues_, also _Moses and the Daughters of Jethro_, the last

engraved by Gruner, and then in England, belonging to Lord Hatfield.

Also _The Vocation of St. John and St. James_, a pencil drawing in the

possession of Baron Lotzbeck, Schloss Weihern, near Munich. This

beautiful design has been chosen as one of the illustrations to this

volume. Few masters have been so largely engraved as Overbeck; scarcely

a picture or drawing of import exists that has not become thus widely

diffused. By the artist's own hand are reproduced, on copper, _St.

Philip Neri_, and a _Pilgrim_. In France were published the "Book of

Hours," and "The Imitation of Christ," severally illustrated from

designs by Overbeck. A pictorial art, chiefly reliant on form, and

expressly intended for the teaching and saving of man, was fitly thus

multiplied and disseminated.

Numerous portraits of Overbeck, by himself and friends, give a

retrospective view of his character. Probably the earliest is a pencil

drawing in the Vienna Academy by the Viennese painter, Johann Scheffer

von Leonhardshoff; the date must be prior to 1810, and the age somewhere

about twenty. The head is remarkable, almost abnormal; the outlook on

the world is inquiring, querulous, and combative; the penetrative eyes

seem in search after undiscovered truth; the pursed-up mouth is prepared

for protest; the attenuated nose and contracted nostril betray austerity

and acerbity; the whole aspect is that of nervous irritability. The

spirit is still in unrest, having sought in vain for the ideal; and

unsatisfied yearnings already settle into moody sentiment and

melancholy. In these traits are clearly legible the painful perplexities

and the severe conflicts of the painter's first period. And like mental

states and bodily conditions are carried into the pencil likeness

already mentioned, taken in Rome by Cornelius some three years later:

for the moment the mind seems masked by a phlegmatic mass of German

clay; whatever might be light-giving in the inward man appears clouded.

This, as we have seen, was for the young painter a time of doubt and

difficulty, and the face remains as yet unillumined. The next known

portraits come at a long interval, and show marked changes, which tell

of deep and not wholly blissful experiences. In 1837, Carl Küchler, who

made a series of portraits of German painters living in Rome, took and

engraved the likeness of Overbeck at the age of forty-eight. The head is

most striking and impressive; the coronal regions, the reputed abode of

the moral and religious faculties, rise in full development; the frontal

lobes of the intellect, with the adjacent territories of the

imagination, bespeak the philosopher and the poet, while the scant

circuit of the posterior organs gives slight sign of animal passion. The

mien is that of a mediæval saint--austere, devout; the eyes steadfastly

gaze as on hidden mysteries, yet shine with spiritual radiance; the

brow, temple, and cheek are those of the child, yet thinker; all the

features have settled into meditative repose, gently shaded by

melancholy. Overbeck, at this time in close converse with Heaven, had

given himself unreservedly to Christian Art; hence this supremely ideal

head. The portrait, contributed to the autograph collection of artists'

heads in the Uffizi Gallery, Florence, pleased neither the painter nor

any one else, yet it was carried out on the favourite doctrine of

uniting the inward with the outward man. The style is hard and dry, the

character that of starved asceticism; the expression is Jesuitical, and

actual traits are so exaggerated as barely to escape caricature. The

artist was painted by Carl Hoffmann, also, it is said, by Genelli and

Ernst Deger. The portraits in late life, whilst preserving personal

identity, betray somewhat painfully the inroads of age and ill health.

Rudolf Lehmann made a faithful study in 1853; Adolf Grass, an inmate in

the house, painted in oils a portrait in 1865; and Professor Bendemann,

in 1867, prevailed upon the diffident old man to give a sitting. Two

years later death entered the house, and Friedrich Geselschap, a friend

and artist from Düsseldorf, came a few hours after the eyes were closed,

and made a full-size chalk drawing of the head as it peacefully lay on

the pillow. This faithful transcript, now on the table before me,

scarcely sustains the statement of some writers, that the countenance

after death assumed a glorified aspect; but, whether living or dying,

peace, though not void of pain, is the pervading expression.

Overbeck, after the goodly habit of the old masters, was fond of

introducing himself as a spectator in the sacred scenes he depicted, and

thus the above list of portraits is considerably extended. The painter

appears personally in _Christ's Entry into Jerusalem_; also, in company

with his friends Cornelius and Veit, he joins the general assembly of

artists in _The Triumph of Religion_. Again, in _The Gospels_ the devout

painter is present at the Crucifixion, bent on his knees, the hands

clasped, his eyes gazing on Christ upon the Cross. Overbeck was not thus

the egotist or a man craving for glory, but merely the humblest of

servants seeking some inconspicuous place among the followers of Christ,

and desiring to be numbered with God's elect.

I have endeavoured, though perhaps very imperfectly, to lay before the

reader a picture of Overbeck as the artist and the man, and now little

remains save a few general conclusions. I have anxiously tried to

ascertain the painter's mode of work, and the successive steps by which

he matured his compositions. This inquiry has proved all the more

difficult, because drawings in their early stages were persistently kept

out of view. The artist had two studios, the one strictly private for

quiet incubation apart; the other public, wherein only finished products

were shown. The question is, how consummate designs such as _The

Gospels_ were elaborated. I find that Overbeck first revolved a subject

in his thoughts until he had formed a distinct mental conception; this

inward vision he would sometimes for months carry about with him, within

the house and in his walks abroad. At last, when it had taken shape, he

sketched out the idea with lead pencil on a small piece of paper; and,

just in proportion as the first process had been tentative and slow, so

was the final act swift and certain. In these supreme moments he had the

power of throwing off his innermost thoughts without aids from the outer

world: the lines flowed from his pencil rapidly when he had made up his

mind what to do, and the forms once set down were seldom changed. The

facility increased rather than lessened with years; thus we read, "At

the age of seventy-two I create with undiminished freshness and

pleasure." As soon as the first small sketch was complete, the usual

method was followed of squaring out the surface with lines, in order to

reproduce in charcoal, chalk, or sepia the design on the full scale

required--often the size of life. For the important figures, for the

heads, hands, and draperies, studies from the life were diligently made.

Such drawings and cartoons have been and are greatly prized by

connoisseurs; for example, _The Seven Years of Famine_ was acquired by

Sir Thomas Lawrence for his collection. The reader will understand how

difficult it was for the painter to find assistants who could help in

this directly personal work, in this concentration of individual

thought; hence the prolonged time needed, extending, as we have seen, to

periods of five or ten years. Separate studies of colour were also

sometimes, if not always, made. The ultimate stage of painting upon

canvas or wall was comparatively a mechanical process.

Furthermore, we have to consider and make allowance for certain

technical notions of Overbeck and his school. The opinion upheld was

that the idea or mental conception constituted the chief value of any

art work, that outline or form was the direct language or vehicle of

such idea, and that colour, light, shade, surface-texture, or realism,

were subordinate, if not derogatory, elements. Thus it is that the works

of the master cannot be judged by ordinary standards: hence likewise the

drawings and cartoons are superior to the pictures.

Especially does Overbeck's colour stand in need of explanation or

apology. In the first place we have to take into account how far the

artist was bound to tradition; we have, for instance, to bear in mind

that in painting _The Assumption_, he was enjoined by the Church to

clothe the Madonna in white. Then comes the whole question of symbolism,

or the inherent or accepted relation between colour and thought and

feeling. Now, I think it probable that Overbeck sacrificed harmonies

pleasing to the eye for the sake of arrangements that might inculcate

doctrines or impress emotions. Certain it is that he looked on colour as

something carnal: the example of the Venetian painters warned him

against passionate excess, and so as a religious artist he felt it a

duty to use sombre pigments, tertiary tints, and low, shadowy tones.

Thus much needs explanation, yet it must always be cause for regret that

Overbeck did not take for examples such masters of colour as Fra

Angelico and Perugino, and thus gain the heavenly radiance begotten of

religion.

The art of Overbeck will live by its merits despite its defects; it is

vital and enduring in the three mental elements of thought, form, and

composition. The last he matured and mastered with the certainty of a

science and the beauty of an art. His compositions have the exactitude,

and occasionally the complexity, of geometric problems, neither are they

without the rhythm of a stanza, or the music of a song.

How much and in what manner the art of Overbeck was due to direct

inspiration from heaven is not easy to determine. But, at all events,

the modern master, like his forerunners in the spiritual school of

Umbria, watched and waited, fasted, prayed, and painted. One who

observed him closely testifies how, while making the drawings for _The

Gospels_ and _The Seven Sacraments_, he was penetrated with the life of

Christ. From deep wells the infinite soul flowed into the finite mind,

and the art conceived in the spirit of prayer issued as a renewed prayer

to God.

The reader, I trust, has formed a judgment as to the three-fold relation

in which Overbeck and his works stand to nature, to historic precedent,

and lastly, to inward consciousness or individual character. We have

seen that the notion prevalent in Rome, that the living model was wholly

discarded, is inaccurate; bearing on this moot point may be here told an

anecdote. It is related how one morning, when the artist was engaged on

the Tasso frescoes, in the Villa Massimo, he had need of the life for a

muscular arm, and so sallied forth into the neighbouring Piazza of the

Lateran and made appeal to some men who were breaking stones on the

road. One of the number, of amazing muscle, consented to sit, but, to

the disgust of the purist painter, the man turned out to be a public

executioner, who only took to stone breaking when slack of usual work.

Another story is to the effect that, one day a fellow of terrific aspect

entered the studio, declaring he was without food, and demanding

engagement as a model. He turned out a villain, and so the aversion grew

to coming in contact with common and unclean nature. Another reason

assigned for the non-employment of models is the lack of sufficient

strength to sustain protracted study from the life. Hence recourse to

other methods: for instance, both mental and pencil notes were taken of

casual figures and incidents in society or in the public streets. John

Gibson, the sculptor, cultivated a like habit. Also a remarkable memory,

of which much might be told, served as a storehouse of pictorial

materials. It is recounted now on Sunday evenings, after the reception

in the studio of fifty or a hundred guests, the meditative artist would

recall and describe the visitors one by one, and after many years, and

perhaps in a distant place, meeting some person, otherwise unknown, he

would say, "I remember to have seen that face once in my painting-room."

In like manner his memory was peopled with figures, whose acquaintance

he had made only in pictures: thus, when he came to paint _The

Assumption_ for Cologne Cathedral, he had recourse to the mental vision

of the Madonna, derived from an old Sienese panel, and, when charged

with the plagiarism, he replied: "The figure realises my idea, and I do

not see why I should search further." Thus, however, it came to pass

that he borrowed more and more from others, just in proportion as he

took less from nature. But in coming to a fair judgment, we have to

remember that the accidents in nature, and the grosser materialism in

man, were foreign to this super-sensuous art, the aim being to reach the

hidden meaning and the inner life. Hence the favourite practice of

placing and posing in the painting-room some well-chosen figure which

was quietly looked at, carefully considered, and taken in; thus the

irrelevant elements were eliminated, and only the essential truths

assimilated. This was for Overbeck the saving study of nature: he made

extracts and essences, elaborated generic types, and thus his art became

supreme in beauty. However, the beautiful is not always new, neither is

the new always beautiful.

The painter's relation to the historic schools of Christian Art has been

so fully stated, that little more remains to be said. The old masters

were studied much in the same way as nature: their spirit was inhaled,

and just as John Gibson was accustomed to ask, What would the Greeks

have done? so Overbeck put himself in the place of the early Italian

painters, and desired that his pencil might be guided by their spirit.

Like Raphael, what he borrowed he made his own, and often added an

aspect and a grace peculiar to himself. A gallery of pictures was for

him what a well-stored library is to a literary student, who takes from

the shelves the author best supplying the intellectual food needed. The

method is not new or strange: Bacon teaches how the moderns inherit the

wisdom of the ancients, and surely if for art, as for learning, there be

advancement in store, old pictures, like old books, must give up the

treasure of a life beyond life. Overbeck in the past sought not for the

dead, but for the living and enduring.

Given a painter's genius and surroundings, his art usually follows under

the law of cause and effect. Overbeck's pictures, as those of others,

yield under analysis as their component parts, nature plus tradition,

plus individual self. As to the individual man, we have found Overbeck

the poet and philosopher, the mystic, somewhat the sentimentalist, and,

above all, the devout Catholic. The character is singularly interesting,

and the products are unusually complex. He had forerunners and many

imitators, yet he stands alone, and were his pencil lost, a blank would

be felt in the realm of art. His genius was denied grandeur: he did not

rise to the epic, and scarcely expanded into the dramatic; his path was

comparatively narrow; his kingdom remained small, yet where he stands is

hallowed ground; his art is musical, altogether lyrical, yet toned with

pathos, as if the lamentations of The Holy Women at the Sepulchre

mingled with the angel-voices of The Nativity. The man and his work are

among the most striking and unaccustomed phenomena of the century, and

so far as his art is true to God, humanity, and nature, it must endure.

His own assurance is left on record: he held that knowledge and doing

are of value only so far as they ennoble humanity, and lead to that

which is eternal. He believed in the dependence of art on personal

character, on elevation of mind and purity of motive. The noblest

destiny of the race was ceaselessly before him, and he looked to

Christian Art as the means of showing to the world the everlasting

truth, and of raising the reality of life to the ideal. In conclusion, I

think it not too much to claim Overbeck as the most perfect example, in

our time, of the Christian Artist.

The pecuniary rewards of the painter were in no fair proportion to his

talents or his industry. His labour, as we have seen, was primarily for

the honour of art and religion, and his protracted modes of study, as

well as the esoteric character of his compositions, were little likely

to meet with adequate return. Overbeck never realised large sums; his

prices measured by present standards were ridiculously low, and even

when overcrowded with commissions, he is known to have fallen short of

ready cash. Happily, after early struggles, he became relieved from

pressing anxieties, yet he remained comparatively poor.

Overbeck's influence, the example of his life, the principles of his

art, extended far and wide throughout Europe. In France, the German

master won the reverence of the Christian artist Flandrin. In England,

Pugin held him up to students as a bright example. In Vienna and Prague,

Joseph Führich, as a disciple, worked diligently. In Munich, Heinrich

Hess, and in Spires, Johann Schraudolph, painted extended series of

frescoes allied to the same Christian school. In Düsseldorf like

traditions live:--Deger, Ittenbach, Carl and Andreas Müller studied in

Rome, and their frescoes in the Rhine chapel at Remagen were inspired by

Overbeck. And specially does the mantle of the revered painter rest on

his friend Eduard Steinle; important works at Strasbourg, Cologne,

Frankfort, Münster, Klein-Heubach, and Reineck, respond to the spirit of

the great artist who, dead, yet speaks.

Brief is the narrative of the approaching end. The infirmities of age

scarcely abated the ardent pursuit of an art dear as life itself.

Overbeck had suffered from an affection of the eyes, and his later

drawings, notwithstanding partial panegyrists, betray a faltering hand,

together with some incoherence in thought, or, at least, in the relation

of the parts to the whole. For some time, in fact, vitality had been

ebbing from his work. The summer of 1869 found him in his favourite

retreat of Rocca di Papa, and we are told he was "still busily

creating." His country dwelling stood among beauties which, in illness

as in health, came with healing power. From this sylvan quietude the

aged painter, in June, wrote to his dear friend, Director Steinle, a

letter abounding in love and aspiration; he dwells on the serenity of

the Italian sky, on the splendour of the landscape stretching before his

eye into the far distance; with characteristic modesty he laments that

even in old age he is not sufficiently advanced for the great task set

before him, and desires without intermission to turn to good account the

time still left; and then he counsels his "Brother in Christ" to direct

the mind steadfastly towards the glorious olden days which point to the

blessed goal.

Overbeck, on his return to Rome in the autumn of 1869, resumed his

accustomed order of life. One who knew him well in later years relates

that he was to be found in his studio in the early morning, that, after

a short interval at noon, he resumed work till stopped by the darkness

of evening, and that, such was the wealth of material stored in the

mind, that he went on inventing without aid from usual outward

appliances. He still sought utmost tranquillity, and any intrusion on

the hours of study became extremely painful to him. Latterly he had been

engaged on a small composition of _The Last Judgment_; also he was

occupied on designs illustrative of human life--a series which had

advanced as far as the _Return from Church of the Wedding Party_. Such

were the congenial avocations when, on the fourteenth day after the

return home, he was seized with a severe cold on the chest. Yet the

symptoms so far yielded to medical treatment that in eight days the

danger had passed. Suddenly, however, ensued a total failure of power,

yet for the most part the mind remained unclouded. A day or two before

death he asked for a piece of charcoal, and added a few touches to a

design on which lately he had been working; and at times, when

apparently unconscious, he would look upwards, raise and move his hand

as if in the act of drawing. He prayed almost without ceasing, was

grateful for each kindness, and with dying lips had a loving and

comforting word for everyone. The last sinking came in quietness;

sustained by the consolations of religion he fell asleep towards six

o'clock in the evening of Friday, the 12th of November, in the eightieth

year of his age. He lay as he had lived--in peace; and near his bed was

placed the drawing on which he had lately worked, also the small cartoon

of _The Last Judgment_.

The next day, according to the painter's wish, the body was taken by the

hands of his brother artists to San Bernardo, the little parish church

near his house, where he worshipped, and where he is still remembered.

An eye-witness writes from Rome to Lübeck, on the 18th of November: "I

have just come from the burial of our great fellow-countryman. Amid

universal grief the funeral mass took place this morning. The mournful

ceremony was performed by a German bishop assisted by Cistercian monks;

many artists and German students were present, and joined in psalms

composed by the Abbé Liszt. The whole function was most solemn, as if

the pious spirit of the departed had entered the whole assembly. Around

the bier were gathered Protestants as well as Roman Catholics; the

coffin bore the many orders which the artist had received, but was never

seen to wear; and at the feet lay the crown of laurels which his Roman

brethren reverently offered to their acknowledged chief." The body lies

in the chapel of St. Francis of Assisi, within the church of San

Bernardo. The resting-place is marked by a white marble cross, let into

the wall, bearing the inscription "Joannes Fridericus Overbeck--In

Pace."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: See 'Lübeckische Blätter,' from 1839 to 1869, for sundry

notices concerning this picture and other works. The _Pietà_ is in oil

on canvas, 10 feet wide and nearly as high; the top is arched; it is

photographed. The pigments are in usual sound condition. A small picture

accompanied this _Pietà_. It had been intended as a present to the

brother, Judge Christian Gerhard Overbeck, but his death, in 1846,

preventing the fulfilment of the purpose, it was sent to Lübeck as a

gift to his son, the artist's nephew, Doctor and Senator Christian

Theodore Overbeck, who died 1880. The representatives in Lübeck of this

nephew are said to be in possession of sundry memorials of the

illustrious uncle. Here in Lübeck I may mention a _Madonna and Child_, a

circular composition 3 feet 2 inches in diameter, with the painter's

monogram and the date 1853. The picture is a gem, exquisite for purity,

tenderness, and beauty. Another _Madonna and Child_ is in the

Thorwaldsen Museum, Copenhagen.]

[Footnote 2: _The Incredulity of St. Thomas_ is 10 feet high by 5 feet

wide. It bears the painter's monogram and the date 1851. The figures are

life-size. The picture is in perfect preservation. The pigments, as

usual, lie thin, showing through the rough tissues of the Roman canvas.]

[Footnote 3: See 'Geschichte der neuen Deutschen Kunst, von Ernst

Förster.' Leipzig, Weigel, 1863.]

[Footnote 4: _The Assumption of the Virgin_ is in oil on canvas; height

about 18 feet, width 9 feet. Figures nearly life-size. The scale is

rather small for the magnitude of the architectural surroundings. The

tone is that of an old picture, low and solemn. No positive colours are

admitted. The pigments remain intact, without crack, blister, or change

of colour. The picture was the joint gift of the Düsseldorf Kunst-Verein

and the Cologne Cathedral Chapter. The price paid was equal to about

£1000 sterling. The cartoon was exhibited in 1876 in the National

Gallery, Berlin.]

[Footnote 5: The cartoons of the _Via Crucis_ were, in September 1880,

in the Villa Germania, near Biebrich. They are in chalk or charcoal in

outline on grey ground, tinted with sepia. Height, 1 foot 9 inches;

breadth, 1 foot 5 inches. The water-colour drawings of the same series

were, in January, 1878, in the Camera di Udienza of the Vatican. Height,

2 feet 6 inches; width, 1 foot 8 inches; mounted on white, and massively

framed. The walls and accessories of the Pope's apartment are of a crude

colour and in bad taste. The feeble execution of these cartoons and

water-colour drawings betrays advancing age and declining power.]

[Footnote 6: The cartoons of _The Seven Sacraments_, after a labour of

some eight years, were finished in 1861, and received high encomiums

when exhibited in Brussels. They remained with Overbeck at the time of

his death, together with many other artistic properties, the

accumulation of a life. Some of these treasures have been sold by the

family who entered into possession. The cartoons were offered for sale,

but are still without a purchaser. Small tempera drawings of _The Seven

Sacraments_ were bought for the National Gallery, Berlin, in 1878. They

are on canvas: measurement, 1 foot 8 inches by 1 foot 3 inches. These

reductions were entrusted to scholars; the execution is poor; the master

is responsible chiefly for revision. The pigments used vary; some are in

warm sepia, others in cooler tones, and one, _Penance_, is fully

coloured. The results technically are far from satisfactory. These

_Sacraments_, including the predellas, friezes, and side borders, have

been photographed in large and smaller sizes by Albert, Munich, and from

the photographs August Gaber executed woodcuts, published with

explanatory text penned by Overbeck. This text was also published as a

separate pamphlet: Dresden, August Gaber; London, Dulau and Co. The hope

above expressed that the cartoons might be further carried out was never

realised.]

[Footnote 7: I was informed, in October, 1881, by August Gaber, that the

wood engravings made by him of _The Seven Sacraments_ had proved a

financial failure, and that he had in the undertaking lost his all. The

Bible of Schnorr, also rendered on wood by him, had, on the contrary

succeeded. The reason assigned why the public did not care for _The

Seven Sacraments_ was, that the treatment is too strongly Catholic; and

this can hardly be a prejudiced judgment, because it was pronounced by

Herr Gaber, himself a Catholic.]

[Footnote 8: The picture is in tempera on canvas, and was put up on the

ceiling of Pio Nono's sitting room in the Quirinal Palace. But when the

King of Italy took possession, a new canvas with cupids and putti was

stretched over it, and the Pope's sitting room is now turned into Prince

Humbert's bedroom. This brutality might almost justify the good painter

in his belief that Satan is now let loose upon earth. Yet the plea has

not without reason been urged that the picture is a deliberate attack on

the King's temporal power. The original cartoon was, in 1876, exhibited

in the National Gallery, Berlin, and the same subject the artist

repeated in an oil picture (10 feet by 8 feet), now in the Antwerp

Museum. Overbeck had been made a "Membre effectif" of the Antwerp

Academy in 1863, and the commission for this _replica_ followed thereon.

I am told on authority that in Antwerp "the work is considered very

mediocre."]

[Illustration: JOANNES FRIDERICUS OVERBECK IN PACE

THE RESTING-PLACE OF OVERBECK IN THE CHURCH OF SAN BERNARDO,

ROME, IS MARKED BY A CROSS OF WHITE MARBLE BORDERED WITH

BLACK, AND BEARING AN INSCRIPTION AS ABOVE.]

CHRONOLOGY OF THE LIFE OF OVERBECK.

A.D. PAGE

1789. Overbeck born at Lübeck, 4th July 1

His Ancestors for three generations Protestant Pastors 3

His father Burgomaster, Doctor of Laws, and Poet 5

1800. His Home Education 7

1805. His First Drawing 9

1806. Leaves Lübeck for Vienna 9

Student in Viennese Academy 10

1809. Begins painting _Christ's Entry into Jerusalem_ 11

1810. Rebels against the Viennese Academy, and is expelled 15

Leaves Vienna and reaches Rome 18

1811. German Brotherhood of pre-Raphaelites 20

Monastery of Sant' Isidoro, the Dwelling of the Fraternity 24

First Commission 28

1813. Overbeck joins the Roman Catholic Church 33

1817. Niebuhr, Bunsen, and Schlegel, literary friends 34-40

1818. Frescoes, _The History of Joseph,_ in the Casa Bartholdi 40

Frescoes, _Jerusalem Delivered,_ in the Villa Massimo;

commission for 44-47

1819. Exhibition in Palazzo Caffarelli 31

Overbeck marries 49

1831. Fresco, _The Vision of St. Francis,_ finished 50

Overbeck visits Germany; returns to Rome 52-61

1833. Present at the opening of Raphael's Tomb 61

1835. _Christ's Agony in the Garden_; oil picture 63

1836. _Lo Sposalizio_, oil picture, finished 64

1840. _The Triumph of Religion in the Arts_, oil picture, 65-69

finished

Death of son 76

1846. _Pietà_, oil picture, finished 77

1851. _The Incredulity of St. Thomas_, oil picture 79

1852. _The Gospels_, forty cartoons, finished 69-72

1853. Death of wife 80

1855. _Assumption of the Madonna_, oil picture, finished 83

Overbeck revisits Germany; returns to Rome 84

1857. _Via Crucis_, fourteen water-colour drawings, finished 87

Pope Pius IX. visits the Artist's studio 7th February 93

1858. _Christ delivered from the Jews:_ Quirinal: Tempera Picture 92

1861. _The Seven Sacraments_, cartoons 89-92

1869. Overbeck died the 12th November, aged eighty 106

INDEX.

(_The titles of Paintings and Drawings are printed in Italics._)

_Adoration of the Kings_, 28.

_Annunciation_, 70.

_Ascension_, 70.

Assisi, 9, 46, 50, 82, 87.

_Assumption of the Virgin_, 60, 83, 99, 101.

_Barabbas released_, 70.

Bartholdi Casa, 40, 43, 44, 60.

_Bearing to the Sepulchre_, 28.

Beauty in the mind and art of Overbeck, 14, 17, 18, 29, 40, 43, 99.

Berlin, National Gallery, 30, 46, 84, 90, 93.

Bible Society, 36.

_Blessed art thou among Women_, 28.

Bond between Art and the Church, 39.

_Book of Hours_, 94.

Bunsen, Baron, 31, 34, 36, 37, 38, 72.

Caffarelli Palazzo, 31, 37.

Canova, 27.

Carstens, 12, 13.

Cartoons by Overbeck, 9, 42, 45, 46, 50, 58, 70, 77, 82, 83, 87, 88, 93,

98.

Catholicism, 27, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 38, 52, 53, 58, 62, 69, 79, 81, 92,

102, 106.

Chart of Overbeck Family, 3, 4.

_Christ's Agony in the Garden_, 63.

_Christ bearing the Lamb_, 60.

_Christ blessing Little Children_, 28.

_Christ's Entry into Jerusalem_, 11, 16, 18, 71, 96.

_Christ escaping from the Jews_, 92.

_Christ falling under the Cross_, 71.

_Christ healing the Sick_, 71.

_Christ in the Temple_, 59, 71.

_Christ teaching the Lord's Prayer_, 94.

Christian Art, 12, 18, 27, 33, 39, 53, 66, 71, 96, 101, 103.

_Christian Parnassus_, 65.

Classic Movement, 3, 7, 8, 9, 12, 14, 27, 40.

Coleridge, 36, 91.

Cologne, 60, 63, 83, 84, 104.

Colour, System of, 16, 29, 63, 64, 67, 98.

Cornelius, Peter, 12, 18, 19, 21, 23, 31, 35, 36, 40, 43, 44, 48, 52,

54, 59, 61, 74, 83, 87, 95, 97.

_Cornelius, Portrait of_, 59.

_Coronation of the Virgin_, 94.

_Creation of Adam and Eve_, 30.

Crown Prince of Bavaria, 48.

David, French School of, 9, 12, 16, 26.

_Death of St. Joseph_, 58, 62, 94.

Deger, Ernst, 21, 104.

Drawings by Overbeck, 9, 13, 28, 29, 30, 49, 55, 58, 59, 64, 87, 90.

Düsseldorf, 12, 20, 21, 28, 52, 60, 84, 104.

_Elias in the Chariot of Fire_, 55.

_Entombment_, 28, 71, 77, 87.

European Art, influence of Overbeck over, 103.

_Expulsion from Paradise_, 13, 30.

Father of the Painter, 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 10, 17, 36.

Father's Creed for a Purist Painter, 8.

Father's Monition to study the Classics, 8.

_Feeding the Hungry_, 30.

_Feed My Sheep_, 80.

Fêtes in honour of Overbeck, 53, 84.

_Finding of Moses_, 59.

_Flight into Egypt_, 31.

_Four Evangelists_, 94.

Frankfort Städel Institute, 29, 60, 68, 85, 104.

Fresco Paintings by Overbeck, 11, 12, 21, 31, 40, 43, 44, 49, 100, 104.

Füger, Friedrich, 10.

Führich, Joseph, 21, 32, 46, 51, 74, 104.

Gibson, John, 27, 100, 102.

_God appearing to Elias_, 58.

_Godfrey de Bouillon and Peter the Hermit_, 45.

Goethe, 6, 12, 37.

_Gospels_ or _Evangelists_, 70, 97.

Hamburg, 28, 63.

_Head of Old Monk_, 30.

Hess, Heinrich, 55, 104.

_History of Joseph_, 41.

Hoffmann, Madame, 81.

_Holy Communion_, 91.

_Holy Family_, 28, 56.

Home Life of the Painter, 6, 72.

_Human Life_, 105.

_Imitation of Christ_, 94.

_Incredulity of St. Thomas_, 79.

_Infant Jesus_, 59.

Isidoro, Sant', Convent of, 21, 23, 24.

_Israelites gathering Manna_, 59.

_Italy and Germany_, 56.

Ittenbach, Franz, 21, 104.

_Jairus's Daughter, raising of_, 29, 59.

Jameson, Mrs., 50.

_Jerusalem Delivered_, 12, 31, 45.

_Jesus as a Child at Nazareth_, 6.

_Jesus Condemned_, 87.

_Jesus in the House of Martha and Mary_, 28.

_Joseph sold by his Brethren_, 42.

_Last Judgment_, 105, 106.

Leipzig Museum, 45, 50.

Lessing, 27, 37.

Letters and Correspondence of Overbeck, 9, 18, 25, 29, 33, 52, 57, 61,

62, 64, 98, 104.

Linder, Emilie, 52, 57, 58, 62, 76, 85.

Literature and Art, state of, 11, 37.

Lübeck, 1-9.

Ludwig, King, 54, 55.

Luther, 2, 34, 36, 64.

_Madonna_, 31, 35.

_Madonna and Child_, 31, 77.

_Magnificat of Art_, 65.

Maria Alfons, son of Overbeck, 17, 69, 76, 82.

_Marriage of the Virgin_, 64.

_Marriage, Sacrament of_, 80, 90.

_Massacre of the Innocents_, 70.

Massimo Villa, 9, 31, 44, 46, 60, 100.

_Meeting of Ulysses and Telemachus_, 9.

Memling's double Triptych, 2, 78.

Mengs, Raphael, 12, 27.

Mental Aspects of Overbeck, 5, 12, 15, 17, 18, 20, 24, 32, 34, 43, 51,

55, 61, 71, 73, 74, 77, 85, 86, 95, 101.

Monumental Painting, 49.

_Moses and the Daughters of Jethro_, 94.

Müller, Andreas, 21, 104.

Müller, Carl, 21, 104.

Munich, 50, 53, 54, 55, 56, 59, 85, 104.

_Naming of St. John_, 71.

Nature, study of, 15, 17, 23, 30, 43, 47, 54, 62, 63, 64, 66, 88, 100.

Nazarites, 25, 74.

Niebuhr, 25, 31, 32, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 44, 72.

Nina, wife of Overbeck, 17, 49, 76, 80, 85.

Oil Paintings by Overbeck, 11, 16, 28, 50, 56, 58, 60, 62, 63, 64, 65,

77, 79, 83, 92, 93, 94.

_Passion, the_, 87.

_Penance, Sacrament of_, 90.

Personal Aspect of Overbeck, 34, 73, 74, 86, 94.

Perugia, 87.

_Pietà_, 77.

_Pilgrim_, 94.

Pius IX., 73, 92.

_Pius IX., his Portrait_, 92.

Portraits of Overbeck, 17, 59, 69, 94, 96.

_Preaching of St. John_, 28.

Pre-Raphaelites, English, 14, 62.

Pre-Raphaelites, German, 15, 19, 20, 21, 23, 25, 31, 34, 36, 40, 61, 74.

Pre-Raphaelites, Italian, 12, 16, 43, 64, 102.

Prices of Pictures, 46, 58, 65, 67, 79.

Protestantism, 1, 3, 31, 32, 33, 35, 53, 69, 79, 81, 83, 106.

Pugin, 33, 67, 104.

Raczynski, Count, 50, 64.

_Raising of Lazarus_, 28, 93.

Raphael, opening of his Tomb, 61.

Reformation, 3, 36.

_Religion glorified by the Arts_: Overbeck's dissertation thereon, 65.

_Resurrection, the_, 71.

_Return from Church of the Wedding Party_, 105.

Romantic Movement, 7, 12, 37, 47.

Schadow, Wilhelm, 21, 24, 31, 34, 35, 37, 40, 43, 60.

Schlegel, Friedrich, 12, 31, 33, 35, 38, 39, 41.

Schnorr, Julius, 21, 44, 45, 71, 92.

Schraudolph, Johann, 55, 85, 104.

_Seven Sacraments_, 70, 88, 91, 92.

_Seven Sacraments_: Overbeck's exposition of, 89, 91.

_Seven Years of Famine_, 42, 51, 98.

_Sibyl_, 64.

_Sophronio and Olindo_, 45.

Spiritual Art, "Soul Pictures,", 15, 33, 40, 65, 66, 100.

_Sposalizio, Lo_, 64.

_Stations, the_, 70, 86, 87, 92.

Steinle, Eduard, 21, 51, 85, 86, 104.

Stift Neuburg, 28, 29, 30, 59, 85.

_St. Philip Neri_, 94.

Studio of Overbeck, 70, 73, 82, 86, 101.

Study, Overbeck's modes of, 72, 97, 100, 101.

Thorwaldsen, 27, 77.

_Triumph of Religion in the Arts_, 14, 60, 65, 97.

_Triumph of Religion in the Arts_: Overbeck's exposition of, 65.

_Twelve Apostles_, 94.

Veit, Philip, 21, 31, 35, 38, 40, 41, 43, 44, 45, 60, 61, 97.

_Via Crucis_, 86, 87.

Vienna, 9-18.

_Virtues_, 94.

_Vision of St. Francis_, 9, 49, 50.

_Vittoria Caldoni, Portrait of_, 28, 56.

_Vocation of the Apostles James and John_, 80, 94.

Winckelmann, 12, 27.

LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, STAMFORD STREET AND

CHARING CROSS.

Overbeck · 第 4 / 4 章