Even more personal both in point of view and in manner of interpretation are the pictures by Turner, that greatest of all painters of the sea. No one but Turner could have attained such a height of dramatic power as is reached in _Lowestoft_ (p. 45), and _The Shipwreck_ (p. 41), in which the majesty and the tragedy of the sea are expressed with overwhelming strength. Only a supreme master could have kept conception and execution in such perfect relation, or could be so vehement in conviction without lapsing into bombast. But Turner was a master without a peer, and in these two pictures--and the extraordinarily suggestive and mysterious _Farne Island_ (p. 44)--he is seen to rare advantage. Yet he was not less evidently a master when he chose to deal with less ambitious material, when he painted subjects like the _Yacht Racing in the Solent_ (p. 43), and _The Prince of Orange Landing at Torbay_ (p. 42), in which no tragic note was needed, and no greater problem was presented than the expression of the breezy freshness of a restless sea. Always, the acuteness of his vision, the depth of his understanding, and the consummate certainty of his method can be realized, whatever may have been his mood or his intention. Beside Turner, John Thomson of Duddingston can be assigned but a minor place; yet, amateur though he was, he cannot be passed over as unworthy to be reckoned among the more accomplished of the earlier sea painters. Minister of a church in Scotland, he was able to practise his art only in the intervals of his clerical duties, but as can be judged from his _Fast Castle_ (p. 47) he had real ability and much command of technical processes. He belongs to a period of great importance in British art, a period which produced not only Turner and Constable, but other masters of high rank, two of whom, Cotman and David Cox, painted marine pictures frequently and treated them with delightful sympathy. Cotman’s broad, dignified method is well seen in _A Galiot in a Storm_ (p. 48), a composition finely designed and convincing in its large simplicity; and David Cox’s exquisite perception of beauties of atmospheric effect is rarely better evidenced than in his delicate and luminous _Calais Pier_ (p. 49), a study of sea and sky which can be unreservedly praised for its sensitiveness and truth. It is as rightly seen as it is attractively painted. There is much less freedom and spontaneity in Pyne’s _Totland Bay_ (p. 51), and yet this picture has a scholarly quality that entitles it to respect, though it is a little too formal and conscious. But at the beginning of the nineteenth century there was a fashion for elegant formality, and Pyne was, perhaps, induced to follow this fashion by his study of Italian scenery. As a sea painter he can scarcely be compared with George Chambers and Clarkson Stanfield, who were of the same date, and both of whom had much professional experience of the sea before they became artists.