PIERRE MIGNARD.
Reading edition
There have been found occasionally some artists, who could so perfectly imitate the spirit, the taste, the character, and the peculiarities of great masters, that they have not unfrequently deceived the most skillful connoisseurs.
An anecdote of Pierre Mignard is singular. This great artist painted a Magdalen on a canvass fabricated at Rome. A broker in concert with him, went to the Chevalier de Clairville, and told him as a secret, that he was to receive from Italy a Magdalen of Guido, and one of his masterpieces. The Chevalier caught the bait, begged the preference, and purchased the picture at a very high price. Some time afterwards, he was informed that he had been imposed upon, for that the Magdalen was painted by Mignard. Although Mignard himself caused the alarm to be given, the amateur would not believe it; all the connoisseurs agreed it was a Guido, and the famous Le Brun corroborated this opinion. The Chevalier came to Mignard; “There are,” said he, “some persons who assure me that my Magdalen is your work.” “Mine!” replied Mignard; “they do me great honor. I am sure that Le Brun is not of that opinion.” “Le Brun swears it can be no other than a Guido,” said the Chevalier; “you shall dine with me, and meet several of the first connoisseurs.” On the day of meeting, the picture was more closely inspected than ever. Mignard hinted his doubts whether the piece was the work by Guido; he insinuated that it was possible to be deceived, and added that, if it was Guido’s, he did not think it in his best manner. “I am perfectly convinced that it is a Guido, sir, and in his very best manner,” replied Le Brun, with warmth; and all the critics unanimously agreed with him. Mignard then said, in a firm tone of voice, “And I, gentlemen, will wager three hundred louis that it is not a Guido.” The dispute now became violent—Le Brun was desirous of accepting the wager. In a word, the affair became such as could add nothing more to the glory of Mignard. “No, sir,” replied the latter; “I am too honest to bet, when I am certain to win. Monsieur le Chevalier, this piece cost you two thousand crowns; the money must be returned—the painting is by my hand.” Le Brun would not believe it. “The proof,” continued Mignard, “is easy; on this canvass, which is a Roman one, was the portrait of a Cardinal; I will show you his cap.”
The Chevalier did not know which of the rival artists to believe; the proposition alarmed him. “He who painted the picture shall mend it,” said Mignard; and taking a pencil dipped in spirits, and rubbing the hair of the Magdalen, he soon discovered the cap of the Cardinal. The honor of the ingenious painter could no longer be disputed.