Scheffer also painted a few pictures which can hardly be called his own.  Such are “The Battle of Tolbiac,” and “Charlemagne dictating his Statutes.”  These were painted by the command of Louis Philippe, who was his constant friend and patron.  The young princes were his pupils; and Scheffer was careful to form them to better taste than that of the citizen monarch who has lined Versailles with poor pictures.  For the King he painted “The Battle of Tolbiac,” and we can only regret the time which was thus wasted; but for his pupils he designed “Francesca da Rimini” and the “Mignons.”

A few masterly portraits by Scheffer’s hand indicate his power of reproducing individual character.  Among these we may name that of his mother, which is said to be his finest work,—­one of the Queen,—­a picture of Lamennais,—­and another of Emilia Manin, to which we shall again refer.  He occasionally modelled a bust, and sometimes engaged in literary labor, contributing some valuable articles on Art to “La Revue Francaise.”

It would be impossible for us to analyze or even enumerate all of Scheffer’s works.  They are scattered throughout France and Holland, and a few have found their way to this country.  Most of the engravings from his pictures are too well known to require description; and we feel that we have said enough to justify our placing Scheffer in the high rank which we claim for him.  Engravings give us a juster idea of the French than of the Dutch or Italian artists; for their merit is rather in design and composition than in color.  We agree with M. Vitet, that color need not be a prominent excellence in a work of high spiritual beauty, and that it should always be toned to a complete harmony with the prevailing feeling of the picture.  In this aspect we look upon the cold color of the “Dead Christ” as hardly a defect; it is in keeping with the sad solemnity of the scene.  But if color should not be so brilliant as to overpower the expression of form and sentiment, still less should it be so inharmonious as to distract the mind from it, as is sometimes the case with Scheffer.  The “Dante and Beatrice” is a familiar instance.  We can see no reason why Beatrice should be dressed in disagreeable pink, and Dante in brick-red.  Surely, such color is neither agreeable to the eye nor harmonious with the expression of the scene.  This defect in color has led many to prefer the engravings to Scheffer’s original pictures; but no copy can quite reproduce the nice touches of thought and feeling given by the master’s hand.  Color is supposed by many to belong mainly to the representation of physical beauty; but has not Allston proved to us that the most subtile and delicate harmonies of color may be united with ethereal grace and spiritual beauty?  Compare his “Beatrice” with that of Scheffer.  But, in truth, the whole spiritual relation of color is yet but dimly understood; and there are, perhaps, influences in the climate and organization of the French