METHOD.

AT last the voice of agitation, which has for many years been raised against the Trustees of the Chantrey Bequest, has found an official echo, and the report of the Lords' Committee is a clear justification for the clamour of the press. The Trustees are acquitted of corruption; but, since they are found guilty of showing an exclusive preference for pictures hung at the annual exhibitions of the Royal Academy, that acquittal will not be a source of much pride to them. After all, interested preference is first cousin to corruption, and in face of the Lords' report, Sir Edward Poynter and his fellow trustees can hardly sustain the attitude of injured selfrighteousness, which has comforted them for the last twenty years. If they are wise, they will patiently accept the very moderate suggestions of the Committee, and then, though they still follow the wellworn path, they can snap their fingers at adverse criticism.

Now, nothing is more certain than that Chantrey did not leave his money for the purchase of what are called in the illustrated prints "the pictures of the year. The chief limitation which he placed upon the judgment of the Trustees was

that the masterpieces of their choice should have been " completed within the British Isles." This limitation the Trustees have scrupulously observed, but they have narrowed it still further. Not only do they insist that the works which they purchase should have been completed within the British Isles; they exact also that they should have been exhibited at Burlington House. That the Trustees should buy one another's works at comfortable prices is no doubt convenient to them, but it is a direct violation of Chantrey's wishes; and it is satisfactory to have the question settled once and for always by capable and unbiassed judges. There is many a private collector who, with no more than £2000 a-year to spend upon pictures, has made a far more distinguished gallery than that which now lurks where once a prison stood. A wise amateur, at any rate, may show a catholicity of taste, and though he make many errors, he need not be the slave of professional prejudice. But the Council of the Royal Academy, believing for obvious reasons in the divinity of its kingship, has never risen above the prejudice of its calling, and is confident that Art cannot breathe in the larger air

which circulates outside the profitable turnstiles of Burlington House. The consequence is that the collection of works for which it is responsible represents nothing save a blind loyalty, and that mistaken gratitude which is a lively sense of favours to come. The Committee's suggestions of reform are for the most part excellent. It is quite reasonable that the artistic societies of England and Scotland, of which the Academy has but vaguely heard, should send word to Burlington House of any masterpieces they may discover. Nor will any one dispute the wisdom which recommends that works of sculpture may be purchased, before they are cast in bronze or carved in marble. But we doubt whether the Committee's most important suggestion will lead to a better choice. It is proposed that the duty of selection should be taken away from the Council of the Royal Academy, and laid upon a committee of committee of three, composed of the President, ex officio, a Royal Academician appointed by the Council, an Associate of the Royal Academy, nominated by the body of Associates, the elected members holding office for five years, and not being eligible for immediate re-election." The sole merit of this committee is its limit. Three men are far more likely to perform the task of selection with intelligence than a larger body, united only in prejudice and superstition. But the method of election gives us no confidence that the committee of three will take a wider view of

their duties than the Council, which they are asked to supersede. They will have as keen an interest in supporting their own institution as their colleagues. They, too, will refuse to perceive the talent of any painter or sculptor who is not of their own house, and it is almost certain that they will continue to collect fine and large specimens of Academic Art. Where they do not follow the dictate of the dealer, they are likely to bow before popular clamour, and to choose the picture which in their own exhibition attracts the largest number of ingenuous spectators. And thus every year a few more painted anecdotes will be added to the collection, and Chantrey's wishes will still be ignored.

At the same time, it is difficult to discover any other practicable course. It must not be forgotten that, for good or ill, Chantrey left the task of selection to the Academy of Arts, and to take away from the body, of which he was a member, the control of his bequest, would be to disregard his own provision. Of course, the only chance of making a representative collection of pictures would be for the Academy to appoint a single connoisseur who had no interest whatever in Burlington House. But we do not look for so prudent a forbearance in a self-elected club; and, since the Academy exists merely for its own interests, the very last ambition it is likely to cherish is reform. Indeed, if it choose to neglect the recommendations of the Lords' Committee, we shall merely arrive at a dead-lock.

Again and again a better policy has been urged upon it, but, abundantly satisfied with the number of shillings taken at the door, it has gone its own way in triumphant indifference. The Lords propose that effect should be given to their provisions under a scheme of the Charity Commissioners, or on the application of the Trustees, or by Act of Parliament. But, in the face of obstruction, it is the most difficult thing in the world to pass an Act of Parliament; the Trustees are not likely to make any application which would impose reform upon themselves; and a scheme of the Charity Commissioners might easily be defeated. Some forty years ago a Royal Commission sat upon the Academy, and the Academy remained sublimely deaf to its session. For, in its own esteem, the Royal Academy is a private body, answerable neither to Parliament nor to public opinion, and, if it remain resolute within its fortress, the Committee of the Lords will prove as vain an experiment as the Royal Commission of 1863.

The truth is, Academies of all kinds are helpless and hopeless. The wisest of men, when once he is admitted within the sacred circle, becomes selfish and official. Before election he may be all for the honour of his craft, but no sooner does he write some pompous letters after his name, than he loses all sense of any profit save that of himself and his colleagues. Henceforth, there is for him no general good; there is but the good of his order. Nor should

it be forgotten that Academicians are appointed by cooption, which is but another name for corruption. A body of men, thus chosen, can defy the assaults of time and chance. They are unassailable, because, if one of their number dies, his place is taken by another of assured loyalty and acquiescence. In fact, the history of Academies is the history of corruption: it matters not a jot whether the Academy be asked to support Literature or Painting; it instantly degenerates into a private club. It is not to the French Academy, for instance, that we should look for a record of France's literary achievements. The institution which excluded Balzac because he did not wear a clean shirt, and turned a cold shoulder upon Dumas because he was a "nigger," is typical of its kind. So gross indeed has been the corruption of the Académie Française that to wear the green collar is by some accounted a disgrace, and no young writer of promise or energy looks forward with pleasure to taking his seat in the house of Richelieu. In other words, academies are the strongholds of mediocrity. Those who are safely within the walls are resolute to exclude their superiors, who would unsettle their middle class views, and do violence to their middle - class superstitions. And thus it is easy to understand why recognised institutions conducted by persons of reasonable culture and intelligence should always be ruled by a policy of interest and intrigue. As the record