artistic problems; they had continuous advantage from the criticism of one another, and from the criticism of the older groups. These latter conditions constituted their atmosphere. The Scotsmen had slender advantages in respect to criticism and encouragement, and they were thrown upon their own resources. This induced reliance upon themselves, as well as a community of feeling by means of which they as a rule avoided the petty quarrels usual in such groups. It is true that they compromised more with convention than did the Parisians-but the convention of Paris is one thing and that of a centre of Scots Presbyterianism quite another. A group of artists, however great their vigour may be, cannot continue to exist indefinitely without external encouragement. I have mentioned the existence of a school in which drawing and painting were taught, but where the absence of an atmosphere, such as was to be found in Paris, for example, was conspicuous. To some extent this absence was in the nature of things, but to some extent it might be qualified. In the early days of the artistic life of the artists whose names I have just mentioned, the Art School was conducted by a worthy drawing-master who was quite unacquainted with contemporary movements in art and quite uninterested in them. The equipment of the school was inadequate, even from the point of view of that day. The admirable gallery which I have mentioned was there to be seen, but it was little used in the work of the school. A great change came in 1888 with the appointment of a young and vigorous headmaster, who had been trained at South Kensington. I cannot say that at that time South Kensington stood very high in the estimation of the artists, especially those of the younger groups. But all who passed through South Kensington were not equally affected by the formalism which was its reputed characteristic. At all events, when Francis Newbery came to take charge of the Glasgow School of Art, he had competent professional knowledge and abundant enthusiasm for the encouragement of individual genius. He became at once an ardent ally of the young group of painters. He brought important lecturers on art from Paris and elsewhere, and he speedily transformed the relations between education in the elements of art and the superior practice of it. Under him the school became a vivifying influence, and from it there soon began to proceed a stream of painters and draughtsmen--both men and women. In 1888 the small group which, in spite of their protests, had come to be known as the Glasgow School began to think that they should devise some means of explaining themselves to the public. I have already indicated that the usual intermediary between the worker and the public, viz. the journalist, was not a very competent intermediary. He was rarely, if ever, trained for such a purpose. The fact was then, as it still is, that the journalist as a rule is equally ignorant of science and of art. The workers in both fields are too much occupied in production and in expressing themselves through the media appropriate to these fields respectively to trouble themselves about interpretation to the non-professional public. Thus interpreters are necessary, and unfortunately they have very infrequently been forthcoming. Those who essayed the rôle of interpreters were still more infrequently accepted either by the artists or by the scientific people on the one hand, or by the non-professional public on the other. If they were accepted by one of these groups the other was almost certain to reject them. The Glasgow painters decided to interpret themselves by means of a monthly magazine. This idea took form in the publication of the Scottish Art Review. I have already suggested the difficulties encountered by the founders of the Scots Observer and the initial mistakes which were made in their efforts to found it. Those who promoted the Scottish Art Review did not attempt to organise a staff of Scots dukes and earls, but they did attempt to publish a journal by means of a staff no less inadequately equipped for such a purpose. The dukes knew nothing about the business of writing and neither did the painters. The results were the same in both cases. After about three issues of the Review had made their appearance, the ink-wells of the amateur contributors ran dry, as they did about the same time in the other case, and for precisely the same reasons. The promoters of the Review then invited me to take charge of it. Had I been consulted before the Review was published, I should probably have counselled abstention, or at least delay. The reasons which militated against the probability of success in the publication of a literary journal in Scotland weighed even more against a journal of art. There were plenty of Scotsmen to write either journal, but they were not in Scotland. The primary motive of the publication of a monthly journal to demonstrate the artistic views of a new and small group was too sectarian to engage the attention of the wide public. The only condition upon which such a journal could be published was a condition in which a heavy subsidy could be counted upon until the purpose for which it was published had been served. However, the Scottish Art Review had been floated, and I took charge of it. I found it necessary at once to give it a tone more eclectic than had been intended, and naturally the interest in it of those who had originally promoted it began to fade. The artists were too much occupied with their own proper work to spend the time necessary to learn how to write, and in consequence, however interesting their essays might be to one another, they did not succeed in making themselves intelligible to the general public. It was thus necessary to draw into the field other contributors who might not know so much about the art of painting as the painters, but who knew a great deal more about the art of writing. The editing of such a review, under these circumstances, was a difficult task. I think I contrived to print in it some good material, and perhaps even to infuse into journalism of this kind a fresh note. The publication of the Review cost a good deal of money. It was not well managed on its business side, and in about a year the promoters became tired. I succeeded in inducing a firm of English publishers to finance it, and to continue its publication in Scotland under the new name which they insisted upon, of the Art Review. But this experiment did not succeed; and after the issue of seven more numbers it expired. I cannot leave the Scottish Art Review without endeavouring to pay a tribute to the man to whom such succès d'estime as it had was mainly due. This was Walter B. Blaikie, of Constable's. His skill made it a model of printing, alike in letterpress and illustrations, and his loyalty made the conduct of it an unfailing pleasure in spite of the conditions which rendered commercial success impossible. It is clear that a systematic account of painting in Scotland has formed no part of my intention, therefore apology is not necessary for omission of names which some might regard as important. I have considered only those artists who came within the field of my personal acquaintance. Some of these I have, however, not yet noticed. Among the Edinburgh artists, in addition to Sir George Reid, were James Cadenhead, W. G. Burn-Murdoch, John Duncan, Hugh Cameron the water-colour painter, an interesting and attractive man, and D. W. Mackay, an oil painter of somewhat archaic manner and method, yet very sympathetic towards the younger men. I think it was in 1892 that the art critic of the Scotsman remarked upon Mackay's contribution to the Royal Scottish Academy Exhibition of that year, that he was painting more thinly than was his custom. A few days after this criticism appeared, Mackay was at Lundin Mills in Fifeshire, where I was also staying. Lundin Mills was a favourite spot for painters. Cameron lived there, and at that time Newbery and others used to spend the summer in the village. The folk round about knew the painters well, and took a great interest in them and their work. Mackay was sitting on the roadside at his easel painting a landscape, plein air, when a farmer drove up. The farmer sat on the front of his cart and, as he passed Mackay, called out to him, "Dinna spare the pent, Mr. Mackay. They tell me you're sparin' the pent. Dinna spare the pent." The principle underlying the salutation of the farmer may well be applied in general to Scots painting and other arts. CHAPTER XVIII LONDON CIRCLES IN THE EIGHTIES Huge murmur from the throat of Babylon! Mean habitations, warrens of dull life, Tortuous, swarming; sullied, pale, cramped life, Spanned by tumultuous bridges; o'er them clang The Hon. RODEN NOEL, London. WHATEVER the reason, crowds appear to have for a time a stimulative effect upon the individuals composing them, and later a depressive effect. This may or may not be an unimpugnable dogma, but I believe it has the support of the biologists who devote themselves to the study of those creatures who, like man, live in groups. My friends who occupy themselves with such researches tell me that when they transfer one of the minute organisms belonging to some species in the category of social creatures from a small group to a larger one, the organism appears to be stimulated somewhat in proportion to the magnitude of the group and then to be subject to depression varying in some degree with the density of the crowd. Whether or not these observations are precisely paralleled by observations upon visitors to London, I am not aware; but of one thing I feel quite certain, and that is, that no one who lives continuously in London can possibly have a valid opinion upon the effect on his mind and body. To obtain an objective point of view, it is necessary to get away from London. On the ground of health, experience has shown that periodical change from the atmosphere of London is highly advisable, and that there is a close association between efficiency and such periodical change. The class which governed England for two centuries and still governs it, maintains its power by maintaining its health. While keeping its grip on the lever of London, this class gains the strength to manipulate the lever, not in London, but out of it. The country house, the |