was dearly paid for by an undue expenditure of nervous energy. His brain went under in the struggle, and an untimely death put an end to his sufferings. His friend Karel Myslbek, son of the great sculptor, was equally well versed in literature, and translated the French poet Cazalis; a vigorous designer and a painter of original talent, he loved to portray on his canvas, with a sombre colouration that often reminds us of Zuloaga, the little world of Prague’s submerged tenth, casual labourers, beggars and blind men at the street corners, emigrants leaving the stations, hospital patients. As an officer of the reserve he was compelled to go to the front, but with his sensitive spirit he preferred death to the task of killing his fellow men. He committed suicide at Cracow in 1915.
Another “Mánesist,” František Šimon, is a Parisian of long standing. Establishing himself in Paris as early as 1903, he studied the life of the masses and of society on the boulevards, in the parks, restaurants and dancing halls. He went to the seaside resorts of Brittany, Belgium and Holland, and visited the South of France, Spain and Algeria. He went in for colour-engraving, the revival of which had just been taken in hand by the great impressionist masters. The engravings he exhibited at the Salon attracted attention: Sagot and G. Petit took notice of him, and the Société de la gravure en couleurs elected him a member. He took part in the spring Salon, later in the autumn Salon. G. Petit became his publisher, and in 1910 opened an exhibition of his works, paintings and engravings; his “Bruges under Snow” was bought by the Luxembourg. He was then elected a member of the new Société des peintres-graveurs en noir and corresponding member of the Société des peintres-graveurs francais. He achieved remarkable success in England, where a series of his works may be seen in the South Kensington Museum, and in America, where several
