This work of Manet, so much discussed and produced under such tormenting conditions, owes its importance beyond all to its power and frankness.  Ten years of developing the first manner, tragically limited by the war of 1870; thirteen years of developing the second evolution, parallel with the efforts of the Impressionists.  The period from 1860 to 1870 is logically connected with Hals and Goya; from 1870 to 1883 the artist’s modernity is complicated by the study of light.  His personality appears there even more original, but one may well give the palm to those works of Manet which are painted in his classic and low-toned manner.  He had all the pictorial gifts which make the glory of the masters:  full, true, broad composition, colouring of irresistible power, blacks and greys which cannot be found elsewhere since Velasquez and Goya, and a profound knowledge of values.  He has tried his hand at everything:  portraits, landscapes, seascapes, scenes of modern life, still-life and nudes have each in their turn served his ardent desire of creation.  His was a much finer comprehension of contemporary life than seems to be admitted by Realism:  one has only to compare him with Courbet, to see how far more nervous and intelligent he was, without loss to the qualities of truth and robustness.  His pictures will always remain documents of the greatest importance on the society, the manners and customs of the second Empire.  He did not possess the gift of psychology.  His Christ aux Anges and Jesus insulte are obviously only pieces of painting without idealism.  He was, like the great Dutch virtuosos, and like certain Italians, more eye than soul.  Yet his Maximilian, the drawings to Poe’s Raven, and certain sketches show that he might have realised some curious, psychological works, had he not been so completely absorbed by the immediate reality and by the desire for beautiful paint.  A beautiful painter—­this is what he was before everything else, this is his fairest fame, and it is almost inconceivable that the juries of the Salons failed to understand him.  They waxed indignant over his subjects which offer only a restricted interest, and they did not see the altogether classic quality of this technique without bitumen, without glazing, without tricks; of this vibrating colour; of this rich paint; of this passionate design so suitable for expressing movement and gestures true to life; of this simple composition where the whole picture is based upon two or three values with the straightforwardness one admires in Rubens, Jordaens and Hals.

[Illustration:  MANET

DEJEUNER]