He was not often so
fortunate in his Parmese efforts. They are usually marked by a timidity
and an attempt at prettiness inconceivable in the haughty and impulsive
master of the Neapolitan school.
Of the three great Spaniards, Ribera is the least sympathetic. He often
displays a tumultuous power and energy to which his calmer rivals are
strangers. But you miss in him that steady devotion to truth which
distinguishes Velazquez, and that spiritual lift which ennobles Murillo.
The difference, I conceive, lies in the moral character of the three.
Ribera was a great artist, and the others were noble men. Ribera passed
a youth of struggle and hunger and toil among the artists of Rome,--a
stranger and penniless in the magnificent city,--picking up crusts in
the street and sketching on quiet curbstones, with no friend, and no
name but that of Spagnoletto,--the little Spaniard. Suddenly rising to
fame, he broke loose from his Roman associations and fled to Naples,
where he soon became the wealthiest and the most arrogant artist of his
time. He held continually at his orders a faction of _bravi_ who drove
from Naples, with threats and insults and violence, every artist of
eminence who dared visit the city. Car-racci and Guido only saved their
lives by flight, and the blameless and gifted Domenichino, it is said,
was foully murdered by his order. It is not to such a heart as this that
is given the ineffable raptures of Murillo or the positive revelations
of Velazquez.
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