it ¥: ” , 了 ​。海市 ​。 14 -- 子 ​; , ”':等 ​* * " 1444 、 .13 " ", , 行 ​こ ​。 . : 中 ​のまま​.... . 8. . " . . : :: ,"a*1 。 中学 ​学 ​:3 ::.dist . +. 是出​, 上 ​「一 ​等 ​当AST, 重量​: “ ... "bt下 ​” | 事 ​: 国 ​sr/ .. 。 ” . . 。 “我 ​. D 432,267 青 ​ht “ . .. 事​.非 ​. .. . tter : 1. 1" '' , a' [ 上 ​對 ​, , ,, , ” 了 ​. “是者 ​. * ; + +1 “1 “善​” , * : -;- -- *.* 金 ​; * 事​”。 ... ” … . . ... ,“ : 时 ​. A ” Nat “ + '. 五年了 ​. iF ** - . 星星 ​| ” h时 ​. . ul .. 1. , 在 ​我的华​, 。 . . . ", 4中 ​. : :: 「北 ​: : : . 、 ,:, :, 我中 ​:: 集 ​?” 、 二 ​, 事​。 * 三立LI : : 我 ​。 * 上一张​, 他是 ​*** 重生 ​「 。 3W 教学法 ​** 分 ​, , : , , k 了 ​,, : 中理系 ​”等 ​「 事 ​华 ​, 市通 ​” MAYA 共有​: ,重 ​收 ​我 ​是 ​PET工业中学​, 可是 ​产 ​: “ 平​, 一對一4 | !” : 学部 ​: 我 ​特等奖 ​尤其是住学生了 ​· : 其次​, 被 ​, “ * Eng8cc 本 ​, , , … * . .*; " 是的​, LVERS, 中 ​不 ​中方 ​如 ​: 作者​。 : 这就是中共政法 ​4. APP 不过​, 一 ​EXVITY- 。 堂​,其样本量管理学教学 ​PREY 件 ​, 其 ​的ALTYPE": 。 达拉斯 ​人 ​FTT 44年​, E8年艺术节 ​七星 ​” T2 至 ​上空 ​等 ​。 - · 身法建​,对 ​T妻好​? 我也可 ​,4 4 一生都在出 ​重 ​“ : 高 ​其 ​于是​,我 ​出 ​“不是十 ​是 ​生 ​其中​, 「 重 ​关 ​中人主和业生 ​地说​:“我交比 ​第二部 ​,《 : 4.全身去爭​。 为了体的认 ​:: 学 ​记得有一 ​其五​,于 ​建 ​十 ​, , 华 ​其中 ​c n 最HT 有一年​, 。 , ” 建​: 是 ​等等​, 中 ​“中 ​制 ​其他 ​力​-- m 大学本 ​再 ​金​。 本身也是 ​其實 ​登場 ​上当 ​分为 ​. “ 于是 ​了​, 我 ​….... 4 * 产经 ​, 庫​+ * 其事在我的 ​. , 情人​,也是 ​寸 ​中文名字 ​的 ​是的​, 地产投 ​* * 4 ”,这是 ​* , 1小 ​生基 ​其中​, 特产 ​等 ​人事件 ​, 1.事 ​其 ​“ 一 ​我 ​生中​, , 对这一 ​以上 ​” , 中老ARK的事业中​。 其 ​中 ​: 了是了 ​多大学​。 :, SE 比 ​江北​, 声学 ​* 一 ​4_ 重生​。 · : 节 ​事实 ​其实是当世旗 ​畫面中单 ​1 - 重量 ​律 ​要了 ​就在 ​学业 ​子​: A 的关注 ​事项 ​e- 三 ​港中學​「者​, 年​, 三是不是​, 下 ​中 ​: : : 就长 ​是 ​“ , + ; 在工作中 ​: : : :: 。 }} 再建立一 ​” 我 ​車一事​。 或是 ​A: 是 ​中共中​, 一月 ​中 ​年一月 ​, 出 ​在线等 ​此影 ​主要是中式 ​1 “ · 。 其是 ​, 孔学上 ​其 ​以上两种​: 其 ​六年 ​“ 作者 ​年 ​才​。 等 ​。 国产者和业在线教学 ​: : * 性能 ​一一 ​华美 ​許 ​- 是它 ​“华​; Par 是封建社 ​是女jr , * 小 ​上 ​的学生 ​在法国 ​手 ​。 好 ​「 中学 ​:-) : 。 排名 ​体多 ​得 ​基本上 ​車​, 事业 ​對​, 其中​, 我 ​,我 ​, 第一​: “ 女 ​”, 事情是 ​第一次 ​: “主 ​在本 ​“ 沒有​。 出 ​其中​, 中国地 ​在此 ​士 ​年​, 量 ​业市 ​小到大家 ​事​。 少年​。 在线视 ​在时 ​: 中​, : 一 ​- -- 重量 ​第一步 ​精准​”, 以上 ​中 ​子 ​is - | 出高高在 ​, 林道 ​, 东 ​, 在许多的 ​教学特 ​報​, 第 ​这个对象的 ​主 ​* 24 事件​。 義 ​{ 书要到了​, 中華基建维​; 军事 ​A1: 全非​」 - 的是​, 其中​, 中小 ​上一点​,就是 ​主体​: “中 ​。 Hu, * 導語 ​MOOK :“ . A 我在 ​是 ​中文 ​* fi 好了​, 年 ​arr!好的抗体 ​博存在​” . : 44 : ! ... 事是 ​找其 ​下 ​非 ​: 善 ​其实​, 14 “ 他 ​上一 ​“ 我是小华社​: 《中国比 ​: 書名​: · 开学工作者​, 事业单​, 有我在 ​一言​, 集中​, A 是我 ​* COMMさい ​非 ​* 一 ​/ 持 ​為 ​中 ​较好​。 : T件 ​重重 ​和一 ​, the 上海书 ​对 ​等我​,我 ​作为中 ​其 ​w产中​, 我 ​: : “ 是的​,一 ​, , 我 ​等一中学 ​李 ​, 的我作主 ​AK 等了​。 4 第一​, # , “ 中 ​- 长 ​《 ( 生 ​其中​, ,是中 ​当 ​“不 ​,在中 ​全年 ​热点 ​對了 ​。 : 在 ​其中的一些表情 ​生 ​, 告 ​, 天 ​我一生​! 「 书上​, 3 44 スマート ​其中​, ” 产 ​就不 ​不是非 ​*本行程​: 二十五章事情​, Y 法实践 ​是的​我 ​关注 ​事物​, 我心上 ​东等我 ​“ 等等​。 畢作 ​ST 对 ​. “ 小 ​4 重生 ​的 ​A , 其中​, , 出 ​, 代 ​身上車等​; Pa,重者​。 中 ​. &T L 4年前 ​其中​, . 星 ​此域名 ​才 ​基 ​: : 1.由AT “ 作書 ​合輯 ​在在的 ​014年​,建 ​1 我 ​“我们 ​首 ​。 被中 ​是 ​, : 学校教 ​13F 1 . 14: 書​: 总之​, 这就是 ​4,弹出一条​。 产者 ​, 台 ​11 , , , 2 its titty 是 ​正在 ​高 ​华 ​是的 ​世青 ​未经济 ​, 这 ​: . 等等等等等 ​; T .. 中​, FREET . , 在 ​, “ : 十五 ​: 4 : : , : | :: 在中​:+: * . s ': : : , . i' . * 5 ', ' **.. 了 ​? ” . . * 看看​。 型 ​: . · · ::: 「 工 ​i. t ; ":" " , : : :, : :: : . :' , True, ; .. " : :: *' , . "" ",P ": . 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HALL, ESQ., F.S.A. “ It becomes a national boast of no small magnitude, that our own age and country has been productive of specimens worthy to take their place beside the best efforts of the most glowing days of art and names which are irrevocably and immortally identified with its history." T. K. Herver. VIRTUE AND COMPANY, LONDON; APPLETON & CO., NEW YORK. mo. Elizabeth Pathtone 1995-1923 467 -TO A . indi . * . 111 We 11 CE 1 1461 V. . r . - ALES O N H ! 22. 1772 sul meu t11 - S 2.10 2 BE . Nude an mt NY ! 2 22 2 It SUN! . TO 1121 . VINY . . DOPA US 11 W 2 T von KNU PRAVA Onnel . AN . www E . ih x IN . . . TWXUA . !.. TIME .. . N V www SIS IT ni VI . MI I II .I D . . - . ..-.- . - . . . O RO line WAY VOTA . . . . . INNAN : . TT ul . VI AI II w ti / . . 11 " 11111 1/ 11: wah V 17 111 ws PII W . ill Carro 11 - . CMW AN . Wiki . . 0 / N FA . A TIT - HIVI . . A - . i. 1471 - Wild - - 2 AW - nu 111 . . the . w INC W . 211 . . ISHO 2 L- 2 SEE VND ....i . . . IN wa . . 1 . w NW : 2 . SA . . LI * 14. . I . '. 11 ON " ID : TUVY INUX ! . . ale RILNI . > Din 10 . . Www CIVI! 1 IN A - Within YA . . VIT . CZ-2 SC THIS WORK 22 . HR , 12 17. . . . S ... ... .. .. - A Is Dedicated . * . i . .. 2 .' . 17 * Y . S4 Oi . I 1a TEC VOISI OK I - Wh . /// ll! / / UNA . / VN IC 11. 2014 . . ROBERT VERNON, Esq., . LIK ' 2 11. . _.- MAIL. 111101 A M will: ZL . Il IGO -- 2 SS. s 1, . - ii. en FEE : Z- . . . A . . TO WHOM IS. DUE . . 7.. . www W 11... . AS li . . 10 Comunita THE GRATITUDE OF A NATION: 21 . TY . . TAS DIV Pris CRO . . . T * w . MA / B ADU CO2 . . 17 HIS NAME WILL BE HONOURED UN TO . . .. 21..! www te BA / OX 11111 . Klin r. : IN VIN TO ALL TIME. .. . - . i . !A . Pattingssenti Yra VE A ! . VU 1/ Il . . II . . VITO 6 .41 . MIN . . -- . U . ? . SN TO It S : - ! DO La Et re ! V . ili . C - EL - UN 2 . . - . . . Myth . V MS . clau W WWE 107 ult ' MIL 12 M V CAS V 11113 AL . / um IN Die OSML 4 wR Sot WWE WY 2 * BIO 110V VID STA Per - . . NU VI 111101?. . .' KI A * . III .- En O - AUTY Klish I . KO . . 1. 8 . *** 11 N MAN . tro . . . llo ! : D 11 11 . UIT UW ISIT A V . : N . .. VE . - . AD 11 ..: 2 MENU VII IS 3 . 2 40 . ill . . I T ... A MININE . .. - . . . 25 - n U SIS HYGITAA 21 IN que KA II 1 . WA 1 - A 126 WA ww. Wii w WW.TO .. w V *** 2 . i7 . . w illet 1 . . . W A en . . 2) . . , O V 7. ir uogai CONTENTS. 1.-PORTRAIT OF ROBERT VERNON, Esq. Painted by H. W. Pickersgill, R.A. Engraved by W. H. Mote. 19.--YOUTH AND PLEASURE. Painted by W. Etty, R.A. Engraved by C. W. Sharpe. 2.-HIGHLAND MUSIC. Painted by E. Landseer, R. A. Engraved by H. 8. Beck with. 20.—THE WAY TO CHURCH. Painted by T. Creswick, A.R.A. Engraved by J. C. Bentley. 3.-VENICE. Painted by C. Stanfield, R.A. Engraved by J. Cousen. 21.-THE FIRST EAR-RING. Painted by Sir D. Wilkie, R.A. Engraved by W. Greatbach. 4.-CHAPEAU DE BRIGAND. Painted by T. Uwins, R.A. Engraved by L. Stocks. 22.-WAITING FOR THE BOATS. Painted by Sir A. W. Callcott, R.A. Engraved by J. H. Kernot. 5.-THE WOODEN BRIDGE. Painted by Sir A. W. Calcott, R.A. Engraved by J. C. Bentley. 23.--COTTAGE CHILDREN. Painted by T. Gainsborough, R.A. Engraved by G. B. Shaw. 6.-SANCHO AND THE DUCHESS. Painted by C. R. Leslie, R.A. Engraved by R. Staines. 24.-DUTCH BOATS IN A CALM. Painted by E. W. Cooke. Engraved by T. Jeavons. 7.-VENICE—THE DOGANA. Painted by J. M. W. Turner, R.A. Engraved by J. T. Willmore, A.R.A. 25.-THE LAST IN. Painted by W. Mulready, R.A. Engraved by J. T. Smyth. 8.-THE BROOK BY THE WAY. Painted by T. Gainsborough, R.A. Engraved by J. C. Bentley. 26.--HIGH LIFE. Painted by E. Landseer, R.A. Engraved by H. S Beckwith. 9.—THE PENITENT. Painted by W. Etty, R.A. Engraved by F. Bacon. 27.-LOW LIFE. Painted by E. Landseer, R.A. Engraved by H. 8. Beckwith. 10.—THE SCHELDT-TEXEL ISLANI). Painted by C. Stanfield, R.A. Engraved by R. Wallis. 28.-THE VILLAGE FESTIVAL. Painted by F. Goodall, R.A. Engraved by J. Carter. ... 1 ..... 11.-THE FALL OF CLARENDON. Painted by E. M. Ward, A.R.A. Engraved by F. Bacon. 29.-A SYRIAN MAID. Painted by H. W. Pickersgill, R.A. Engraved by S. Sangster. .. ... - ... 12.-THE WOODLAND GATE. Painted by W. Collins, R.A. Engraved by C. Cousen. 30.—THE SCANTY MEAL. Painted by J. F. Herring. Engraved by J. Hacker. - - . . 13.--INTERIOR OF BURGOS CATHEDRAL. Painted by D. Roberts, R.A. Engraved by E. Challis. -... 31.-BATHERS SURPRISED BY A SWAN. Painted by W. Etty, R.A. Engraved by E. J. Portbury. - - - - 14.--THE TRUANT. Painted by T. Webster, R.A. Engraved by T. Phillibrown. 32._READING THE NEWS. Painted by Sir D. Wilkie, R.A. Engraved by W. Taylor. YI Ik --- 15.-CATTLE-EARLY MORNING. Painted by T. S. Cooper, A.R.A. Engraved by J. Cousen. 16.--THE VALLEY FARA. Painted by J. Constable, R.A. Engraved by J. C. Bentley. 17.-MALVOLIO. Painted by D. Maclise, R.A. Engraved by R. Staines. 18.—THE PRAWN FISHERS. Painted by W. Collins, R.A. Engraved by J. T, Willmore, A.R.A. 33._VENICE_THE GRAND CANAL. Painted by J. M. W. Turner, R.A. Engraved by T. S. Prior. 34.-THE AGE OF INNOCENCE. Painted by Sir J. Reynolds, R.A. Engraved by F. Joubert. 35.—THE DUTCH FERRY. Painted by Sir A. W. Callcott, R.A. Engraved by R. Wallis. 36.-SIR THOMAS MOORE. Painted by J. R. Herbert, R.A. Engraved by J. Outrim. 414272 iv LE CONTENTS 37.—CROSSING THE STREAM. Painted by Sir A. W. Callcott, R.A. Engraved by J. Cousen. 53.—THE DEATH OF THE STAG. Painted by Sir E. Landseer, R.A. Engraved by J. Cousen. 38.-A GREEK GIRL. Painted by C. L. Eastlake, R.A. Engraved by R. Graves. 54. DE TABLEY PARK. Printed by J. Ward, R.A. Engraved by T. A. Prior. 39.—THE WINDMILL. Painted by J. Linnell. Engraved by J. C. Bentley. 55.-REFLECTION. Painted by E. V. Rippingille. Engraved by T. Hunt. ITI 40.-CLARISSA HARLOWE. Painted by C. Landseer, R.A. Engraved by G. A. Periam. 56.-SPANIARDS AND PERUVIANS. Painted by H. Briggs, R.A. Engraved by W. Greatbach. 41.--THE CROWN OF HOPS. Painted by W. F. Witherington, R.A. Engraved by H. Bourne. 57.--THE MEADOW. Painted by Sir A. W. Callcott, R.A. Engraved by R. Brandard. 42.-THE DUETT. Painted by W. Etty, R.A. Engraved by R. Bell. 58.—THE VICTIM. Painted by A. L. Egg, A.R.A. Engraved by S. Sangster. 43.-THE LAKE OF COMO. Painted by C. Stanfield, R.A. Engraved by J. Cousen. 59.-REBEKAH AT THE WELL. Painted by W. Hilton, R.A. Engraved by C. Rolls. 44.—THE HIGHLAND COTTAGE. Painted by A. Fraser. Engraved by C. Cousen. 60.—THE COLUMNS OF ST. MARK, VENICE. 45.—THE CHURCH OF ST. PAUL, ANTWERP. Painted by D. Roberts, R.A. Engraved by E. Challis. 46.--THE COUNTESS. Painted by Sir T. Lawrence, P.R.A. Engraved by R. A. Artlett. 47.- THE PORT OF LEGHORN. Painted by Sir A. W. Callcott, R.A. Engraved by J. C. Bentley. 48.--THE PEEP-O'-DAY-BOY'S CABIN. Painted by Sir D. Wilkie, R.A. Engrared by C. W. Sharpe. 49.-THE BATTLE OF BORODINO. Painted by G. Jones, R.A. Engraved by J. B. Allen. 50.-HADRIAN'S VILLA. Painted by R: Wilson, R.A. Engraved by J. Carter. NT 51.-THE ENTHUSIAST. Painted by T. Lane. Engraved by H. Beckwith. Painted by R. P. Bonington. Engraved by J. B. Allen. 61.-THE ASTRONOMER. Painted by H. Wyatt. Engraved by R. Bell. 62.—THE GOLDEN BOUGH. Painted by J. M. W. Turner, R.A. Engraved by T. A. Prior. 63.--INTEMPERANCE. Painted by T. Stodhard, R.A. Engraved by W. Chevalier. 64.- THE FAIR SLEEPER. Painted by W. Wyatt. Engraved by G. A. Periam. 65.--RED-CAP. Painted by G. Lance. Engraved by W. Taylor. 66.—MORNING ON THE SEA-COAST. Painted by F. R. Lee, R.A. Engraved by W. Ratcliffe. 52.-ARABS DIVIDING THE SPOIL. Painted by Sir W. Allan, R.A. Engraved by J. T. Smyth. 67.—THE FLOWER-GIRL. Painted by H. Howard, R.A. Engraved by F. Wagner. THE VERNON GALLERY. PORTRAIT OF ROBERT VERNON, ESQ. - TV I - . 117 w Hanim SR . . TI VE 21 - Sa HIS Work cannot more properly commence than with the Portrait of the excellent gentleman whose liberality has been the cause of its existence; at least, of that portion of it which is to be devoted to the publication of Engravings from the Gallery of Paintings collected by 15 him, and presented by him to the British Nation. This gentleman is distinguished from all other benefactors of the National Collection by of a two-fold patriotism : his presentation is greater than could ever have been 19 not expected from any single individual, and moreover, we must esteem his generous Co PI and discerning support of our living School of Painting as a unique example A of patronage. The modern schools of all nations are worthily represented in their respective National collections; as long, therefore, as our living Artists were denied access to the National Gallery, we certainly gave a colour to the reproach so blindly cast upon us from the Continent—that of having no Art worthy of public exposition. But from this injustice Mr. Vernon has rescued contemporary Art by an act of munificence which we find exemplified only in history—for modern times afford no parallel. A princely fortune may be expended in the acquisition of paintings and sculptures, and yet the possessor may not be a patron of Art—he may be but a collector—one of whom no tongue ever said—“Through him, I am enabled to make this step in my profession.” The modern collector is indebted to the patron of old for the treasures that adorn his walls ; for no great work has ever been executed without assistance, mediate or immediate. If we turn over the more luminous pages of the history of Art, we find most ancient Painters enjoying the friendship of persons of distinction and wealth, but for whose support their fame had, perhaps, never risen above an ordinary standard, nor their works attained to an excellence beyond mediocrity. LIG - - ---- - -- - -- - - VE THE VERNON GALLERY. YTTI --- - - - - - - ------- --- - - - - ---- - - - - -- The Vernon Collection consists, with but two exceptions, of contemporary Art: each picture has been acquired immediately from the easel of the Painter, under circumstances which endear to the possessor works, thus obtained, far beyond acquisitions made through indifferent sources. A great proportion of these pictures have been earnestly watched by their late proprietor in their progress to completion ; changes in their composition and treatment have been suggested, and effected; and many, indeed, have, in the course of execution, been dwelt upon insomuch as to endow them with an interest which made them to him doubly valuable. Thus, the collection was formed by Mr. Vernon alone : it is the result solely of his own judgment and taste. The pictures are the best works of the best painters, produced, for the most part, at the healthiest periods of intellectual life ; and although the artists were in all cases recompensed to the extent of their hopes, they were actuated by higher aims than those suggested by pecuniary rewards—for the admission of a picture into this Gallery has been always regarded by them as a large accession of Fame. The single example of Reynolds is a small picture, in admirable preservation and of unique brilliancy; the principal work of Gainsborough is a most perfect example of the power and harmony of the painter. These are followed by a series of productions representative of the style of every “celebrity” of our school since their time. The examples of Turner are such as we might not wish to see exchanged for any others of his productions, for he has given the world nothing more beautiful. In the works of Wilkie we find represented his earlier and his latest style—productions which have been all duly appreciated by the Public. Then there is Hilton, who, like Flaxman, was never rightly known until after death. The works of Maclise show this highly gifted painter in two phases-his earlier and simpler composition and a matured style, the grandeur of which is supported by an exuberance of imaginative power of execution, and other invaluable qualities, which are very rarely found assembled as elements in the same composition.—And of Landseer what can be said, but that his contributions to this collection are among the most memorable of his works. We see him in his utmost strength-his anecdote, his “pointed moral,” and his “adorned tale ;" each narrated by animals, with admirably chosen accessories. The pictures by Etty which enrich the collection are distinguished by that care and deliberation which mark the productions of his best time. And Callcott, who walked hand in hand with Nature till the end of his days—his productions are altogether worthy of such a student and such a school.Of Mulready, also, it may be said, that he is still a student; as witness the exquisite and vivacious truth which animates his works. Eastlake, Leslie, Uwins, Stanfield, Ward, Collins, Lance, Webster, Lee, Roberts, Cooper, Goodall, and others who contribute to its fulness, are here in their strength. The effect upon the rising school of painting, of a permanent exhibition of modern progressive Art, cannot operate otherwise than in a manner highly beneficial. Here will be presented to the young, examples of the unwearied application, whereby their authors were exalted into imperishable renown; and as a means of educating public taste, they will afford for public appreciation those qualities which, in classic Art, are only obvious to the educated eye. To others will belong the duty of adequately expressing gratitude to Mr. Vernon for an act in e .-~- TUII 20 un - --- -- - ------.. ...------- ---------- - - - - - -- - -- - - - -- THE VERNON GALLERY. em I of patriotism without parallel in modern times. The boon is to the public; and, through the ordinary channels, the feeling of the public has been very strongly expressed; but the Nation has yet to record its obligation, and to honour the name of a Benefactor whose munificent gift is pregnant with instruction and enjoyment for generations to come. The collection was gradually formed by Mr. Vernon during a period of about thirty years. its latest acquisitions are of a date so recent as the year in which it was presented to the Nation -1848. It consists of one hundred and fifty-three paintings, and five works in sculpture. The portrait which accompanies this brief notice was painted by H. W. Pickersgill, Esq., R.A., in 1846. It is a striking likeness of the estimable gentleman, and cannot fail to prove a deeply interesting accession to the Gallery. It is not our intention to accompany it with any remarks personal to him ; we trust that many years will pass before the task of the Biographer will have to be discharged towards a great public Benefactor, a true Patriot, and a powerful Instructor by the instrumentality of Art. It is not only in the collecting of pictures that liberal taste and pure appreciation of “the beautiful,” have been evidenced by Mr. Vernon. His country- seat, Ardington House, Berkshireman engraving of which we have considered could not fail to . LE S - _ _ III - - - - - - ESS NER - - S - - - OS - - - a Inc . -.- IST S O 4, LAR Y 1 - - . - C - - NE - S OXUYANS - - .- . . SDXN CORSOAL- -- - - - - - - 2 1 ER - - . - - - - - - - . - a U V - - - OVER . E LEN . - SEK MAS. . - 4 - . . - - V VIRS . LS M . - HS S - . . . .. . SLIME 2 - TEA . 23 - - - - - - - S - - . . ' . . . . . - . - - SATELLI UTAS STT B --- - LISTA ATLANTAN .. - - - - - - --* -. II. - . * X - . Point TE SEE - A S SCENE T ws SED . SOY SL REF ACES . . TL MS . ASC- SEYS . 1 .. . UR ILIIT . SAUSIO SA. . A YAK S 11 X . . ri: . . RO . :. M S .6 : SV . N S 1 * 2 . + IS NEN "- . V . . A WI VENTI Mais 19 . TO WU- !. SYKIN ww . PIC INOX : - - . K. - - - -- - 1 = . . 1. i 197 . U _ _ NET IR 2 AN . W _ OR AN 11. 1 - - . TO . . J EINSSt.3. 1.SI . . . 1 SANT . 22: ci 22 LO - - .- Bers ig 1 . A S : - * 13 LAWSUIT. IN .. AVY R . COLA VIA . . : 1 . . , WAY SENS , sir.i UM 4 .is 1 . W NU A : E - 1S - A. - - F . dre SROORTEN 2 - . M A . - - . SV - ATLIESSL - CI E ES *- - # * RAZ!.. 22 VOL -... Y . - . . 4 ES --- - - D - at TR al . A Keda SS PDV VE E VE 91 . 5772404 -- - - 2RE . interest our readers-affords ample proof of this. It is full of artistic treasures, and the lawns and gardens are rich in luxurious elegance. The village church, containing some fine antique remains, skirts the grounds, of which indeed it may be said to form a part, and the whole exhibits a scene of tranquil beauty peculiar to the midland counties of England. The church is exhibited in the appended wood-cut: the drawing was made since the restorations, at the cost of Mr. Vernon, and shows the Mausoleum in which he is destined to rest from his labours-labours which have been abundant in fruitage to mankind. Here also Art THE VERNON GALLERY. has been busily at work; it is filled with rich carvings in wood and stone ; while in the centre aisle is placed an exquisite statue, in marble, of Prayer, from the chisel of the sculptor Baily. - .. .. Ul.11. O H bi ir 12 in. .. . . . . ON !!Sillas meli 1116.7777 SON - . . Bl" . - Sa - II S ASI . SAN : : . AD - - - min 3 BE r UUS . . - - - - - RA --- 11: HT? :::: S . 2 . SUS . . PIA 1 w 140 . - - - . V w . URE . DR . - 5 . . E . . .. . * " ST: : http: OTY , SU KI Sri X. ... TEMPUNY 2 n ES VA an it for Dan . Inici su . Wit Y 1. 1 Murill MUI . 2017. Huisdi NA YA Blue . l'um 179 lit 4 JY T uwimwen. NRS sicilio : Str 1011 Yus ht WIN 10m OCA ** H OdlUIG intin Unit . T ZAK ☆"nemler, ? A Esi . LR. . . PS SU GPANCUS Works of Art, of the highest and purest character, have thus supplied the chief enjoyments of Mr. Vernon's life; these enjoyments—sources not alone of true pleasure, but of profitable instruction and refinement-he has desired to share, as far as possible, with the great family of mankind. To his country, therefore, he has presented the results of his fine taste and judgment, and the issues of his wealth; to act as perpetual teachers of good; to become enduring records of the genius of the age in which he has lived; and to remain as useful lessons to succeeding artists. The value of the gift, and the gratitude due to the giver, cannot be expressed better than in the language of “The Times” newspaper, which we append to this, necessarily, brief and scanty notice of the truest Benefactor of modern times :- “What shall be done to him whom the King delighteth to honour ?' was the question asked of old. It presents itself now under a new form-What would be the most suitable mode of expressing the gratitude of a Nation to the man who bas enriched our public galleries with a collection of the works of our native artists, such as is perhaps nowhere else to be found within the limits of the United Kingdom ? “The defects of our National Gallery are patent and notorious. Mr. Vernon has stepped in to apply a remedy in the most efficient as well as in the most graceful manner. For many years past he has occupied his time, and expended large sums of money in forming a collection of the best works of modern English artists, and he has, in effect, succeeded in getting together a gallery which, regard being had to the object proposed, stands probably unrivalled in England. It was not formed with any idea of ministering to his own peculiar enjoyment, or of handing it down as an heir-loom to his posterity, but—so at least it would appear by the result-of performing a great service to his country, by enriching the National Gallery with a contribution eminently adapted to further the studies and excite the emulation of the rising generation of English artists." HIGHLAND MUSIC. saa 11 . SU ta, . tu . LS D 2 .. N the year 1832 this picture was painted ; it was not exhibited, but m y passed direct from the easel to the collection of Mr. Vernon. It is one of those triumphs of objective truthfulness of representation of which no painter, of any age or country, has afforded more skilful examples than Mr. Landseer. We have all the fidelity of imitation of the best Dutch masters, combined with a thorough understanding of the contingent varieties depending on local and incidental causes. W , To this few only of the Dutch painters have ever attained ; and the senti- il m ent of the picture does not yield to the execution of it. A picturesque old Highland piper appears to have mischievously interrupted the frugal meal of a group of hungry dogs, by a vigorous and sudden appeal to his “ bag-pipes.” The various effects of the “ Highland Music” upon the different dogs are most striking. One blind-eyed little terrier, to the extreme left, seems disposed to expel the noisy intruder ; another near him has set up an harmonious howl of his own ; two others, of a more dignified breed, incline to hear the tune quietly out ; while a fifth, probably the piper's own, is crouched at the feet of the musician, and turns up his eyes to the old Highlander with an intensity of expression, which, though not human, expresses effectually the animal's true sympathetic appreciation of the stirring strains. Here we have strong sentiment and forcible imitation. This is very observable in the minor accessories of the picture ; in the wooden chair to the left, and in the various utensils standing on the large chest near the Highlander; among which his short pipe with its wire guard is not the least characteristic. The picturesque old piper himself stands out with great boldness, through the relief given to his head by the dark recess immediately behind him ; and the effect of space in the narrow chamber is very cleverly produced by the introduction of the partial glimpse of light in the extreme back-ground We cannot refrain from remarking upon the peculiar subdued character of the colouring of this picture ; a warm tertiary tone prevails throughout the only positive piece of colouring - - - - - - .. - . . - .--.- -.- -..--. . - - . - - -- - - . - - - - - - --- - - - - --- THE VERNON GALLERY. n being the touch of red of the Highlander's stocking, This wholesome subjection of colour admits of the duly prominent display of the sentiment of the picture, as admirably expressed in the various dogs. It is a maxim with this distinguished painter that no two of his pictures shall be alike in composition ; and mindful of this admirable resolution, we see him, year by year, setting forth some trait of animal nature hitherto unattempted in Art. Mr. Landseer's development of Art is the poetry of zoology; we may sit down with Æsop, La Fontaine, John Gay, and others, who make animals preach ethics and sound politics—with them we enter only upon a question of the understanding but the sayings and doings of the animals painted by Landseer reach the heart, because we acknowledge with them a community in the affections by which they are moved. With respect to the varied interest which Mr. Landseer has proposed to himself in the compo- sition of his pictures, it must be said that he sustains his proposition with infinite success. It had never been credited that the cycle to which he limits himself, and in which he stands alone, could be made so prolific. This artist has been preceded by many painters of eminence in his department. Snyders has left some admirable dog pictures, but he never exhibits more than the commonest natural impulses of the animal-he never defines and contrasts character, and never attained to sentiment. Landseer has alone given to animal-painting a motive which before his time was not recognised as appertaining to it. In the work of a life-time, especially in Painting—the coyest of the Art-sisters—we find that if a well-directed mind has been earnest in its application, its emanations grow into purity and elevation ; as examples of this in the works of Mr. Landseer, we may instance “The Random Shot,” exhibited last year; “ The Sanctuary,” “ Peace,” “War,” &c. It is only of late years that Mr. Landseer has shown the touching eloquence which addresses us from these canvases. The little picture, the subject of this notice, is a valuable example of the clean and solid execution of the artist ; the textures are rendered with unexampled truth ; the coats of these dogs have never been equalled. In the head of the old Gael there is no indecision ; the healthy hues of his features are laid in with a full brush, and the chiar-oscuro yields an effect which could not be improved by any other arrangement. VENICE, PAST AND FUTURE. * BY LEIGH HUNT. [This picture was painted in 1836; and though, perhaps, less important than the great works which have since emanated from Stanfield's more matured pencil, it is a charming production; one of those beautiful transcripts of nature that carry us at once to the original locality, and make us participators in the actual realities of the place. The view is one that cannot be considered among the “stock-pieces” of painters of Venetian scenery: it is on the Canal of the Giudecca, the church, De Guesati, occupying a prominent position in the middle distance ; the retiring buildings, admirably rendered in their perspective, lead the eye to the far off mountains, which form a beautiful undulating line that closes in the scene. To the right of the foreground is a mass of picturesque buildings in the true Italian style, balanced on the left by a group of feluccas and Greek figures. There is little in the scene to remind us of the grandeur of Venice-her pomp and prodigality; but much to recall her ancient greatness when her merchants were princes, and her fleets, issuing forth, perhaps from this identical spot, contended for the mastery of the neighbouring seas with those of her own kindred—yet rivals in ambition; or for freedom and existence with the mighty powers of Turkey and Austria. The view before us, beautiful as a picture, forms a melancholy contrast, by its very repose, to the stirring events which animated it in past ages.] - - - - - - - - - - -- - LOOKED upon the shows of time, and saw . A wondrous city, out in the blue sea : Gay was her life, the fruit of gravest law; The flower of painting's very self was she ; And down her dancing waves went industry All day, and love and a soft lute at night. From out this city, coming royally Under a courtly burthen of delight, - : - - - - - * These verses, on the past glory and probable fate of Venice, are founded on the opinion entertained by travellers and geologists, that, in consequence of its gradual desertion by the sea, this beautiful city will either become an uninhabitable ruin, or ultimately be seated inland, like its once maritime sisters, Pisa and Ravenna, —an alternative which the late construction of a railroad joining it to the coast would seem to determine to the more desirable issue. They refer also to a supposition that engineers might possibly benefit the channels of the city, by sluicing them with water from the Adriatic rivers ; and they conclude with rejoicing in the indestructible vitality of Venice, as regards the Fine Arts and Music. The respect evinced by the writer for the personal character of the Venetians is grounded on the following remarkable passage in Mr. Stewart Rose's “ Letters from the North of Italy:"- “I never visited any country where the people seemed equally linked in love. You cannot walk the town for a day without being struck by this universal spirit of kindness. The young man, who is perhaps loaded with a burden, if he desires an old man to make way for him, addresses him by the title of father, the old man answers him with that of son, and you hear continually “caro pare” and “ caro fio” from the mouth of the lowest of the mob. Your servant calls the kitchen-maid his sister, and she hails him as her brother. The Venetians really give you the idea of being members of one great family. It is true that throughout Italy you may observe the inhabitants of every petty city hang together more than in any other country, a consequence, undoubtedly, of their affections being centred within a narrow focus : but this fact is peculiarly remarkable in Venice.”—Vol. II., p. 92. -- -- -- -- . .. ... .....- .----.. --.-.- . - - - - -- - THE VERNON GALLERY. 1 A stately bark I saw, all golden bright, Whereon, amidst innumerable more, And the loud leaping of the cannon's might, Which goeth in its pomp earth's gods before, Stood one, that cast into the sea a ring, In sign of spousal right and endless triumphing. I look'd again, long after, and methought I heard a voice upon the waters calling, Not, as before, with life, love, glory fraught, But of some spirit, mourning the long thralling Of the dead city, and its change appalling ; For in its circuit not a face was seen Of human thing, nor was there sound befalling, Save of lone channel, or the wind between, Or house that fell amongst the ruins green. The hollow-window'd streets were half undone ; 'Twixt dry and moist was a dull strife unclean, Fuming and blistering in the burning sun ; And from the mist, the last disgrace of death, A dreadful odour smote the halting seaman's breath. O gentle city, haply 'twas the dream Of fear and sorrow, witnessing thy pains : New arts may save thee from the dire extreme, And bring the rivers to refresh thy veins, As even now with strange new iron lanes They link thee to the land in journey dry. But should great Nature to her own best gains, Blitheness and love like thine, more days deny, At least, sweet Venice, thou can’st never die In words and art, earth's only deathless things; Lo! Stanfield bears thee in his radiant eye ; The Swede of warbling heart thy love-note sings; And though the hues of Titian's self must fade, Art shall reflect him still, in lustrous thoughts array’d.* CD * Paintings, alas! must die, and therefore even the “hues” of Titian are mortal; but short of a convulsion of Nature, there is no conceivable limit to the reproduction of the rest of the painter's ideas by means of the engraver. Strange and lamentable that the inferior Art (beautiful as it is) should be the preserver, and therefore but the partial preserver of the superior! But such is the necessity of the case. Lucky are the words of Homer and Shakspeare in escaping it, and highly desirable is it that painters should themselves engrave as much as possible. CHAPEAU DE BRIGAND. AT - -- - - - -- - - - - - - - - . . POPULAR modern writer has truly remarked that “a genuine artist's studio is a thing to be seen and remembered. The odd assemblage of contradictory materials ; armour, instruments of music, baskets, and tools of agricultural labour; casts of arnis and legs; the beautifully moulded hands and fingers of childhood beside the wrinkled mask of age ; old furniture which has escaped being beautified ; draperies of all kinds ; here a Mercury, there “Venus and Diana' side by side : arrowless Cupids, amid wax fruits, minerals, crayons, chalks, and odd vials of varnishes and mediums ;' little shrivelled-up bladders of new colours perishing like exploded puff-balls : while groups of folios, pictures, tilting-spears and swords recline heedlessly against every corner ; while buff-leather doublets and 'grasping gauntlets' hang from the walls ; with odds and ends of all sorts and colours, forming an incongruous medley which, like the showman's extraordinary exhibition at the village fair, must be seen to be believed.” Now that this is not merely the fanciful description of an imaginative mind bent on “making up a picture” out of scanty materials, as we have known many a clever painter do, the engraving here presented testifies. It is admitted that the model which formed the artist's subject was replete with fancy, for she has habited herself in every possible bit of dress that the wildest fancy of childhood could devise ;-the common peasant hat of Italy, adorned with peacock's ſcathers, and the ornament twisted round it, implying that the wearer has handled the pilgrim's staff, and worn the “sandald shoon :” the little picture in the centre, representing “Our Lady of Loretto ;” the ruff of the age of Rubens; the old woman's duck-tailed jacket of half a century back; the Italian peasant's petticoat, and the holy crucifix, constitute a costume to which it would puzzle the most learned antiquarian to assign a period appropriate to it : Dr. Dryasdust himself would give it up in despair, -- - - . -..- ------ .... . . -.- - ---- . -------- THE VERNON GALLERY. 7 The history of the picture is simply this : a little girl was sitting to Mr. Uwins for her portrait, the painter was unexpectedly called away from his study, and was detained far longer than the child's patience could quietly submit to, and being at a loss for amusement, she very unceremoniously culled from the " properties” around her, and dressed herself as here exhibited. On the return of the painter he found his “sitter” converted into a standing figure, and surveying herself in a large glass that reflected her from head to foot. Her picturesque appearance, and the whimsicality of the whole proceeding so attracted his fancy that he could not avoid the temptation of sketching the droll figure before him—a type of incipient womanhood indulging in one of its strongest propensities, personal decoration. As a painting, the picture is a very beautiful and graceful example of the artist's pencil ; the entire grouping is happy and tasteful, and, notwithstanding the superabundance of costume, with all its rich and varied decoration, the countenance of the mirthful little artiste is empha- tically the principal feature; while the crossed hands, with the rosary and crucifix, form a charming secondary picture, equally suggestive on its part. The colouring and the light and shade of the work are unexceptionable ; these latter qualities combine to render it an unusually effective subject for engraving, and Mr. Stocks, by his admirable execution of the plate, has lost none of the characteristics of the original. - - - 4 - - -.. -..-.- .- -- * * -- - --- J.O. BENTLEY ENGRAVER. SIR A W. CAILCOTT, PAINTER THE WOODEN BRIDGE FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY ENGLAND, PRO AND CON. SUGGESTED BY AN ENGRAVING OF CALLCOTT'S "WOODEN BRIDGE.” BY LEIGH HUNT. [This picture is a small gem of the class of works which Sir A, W. Callcott made almost peculiarly his own—a faithful transcript of one of those homely scenes abounding in the vicinities of our English towns and villages. The execution of the picture is very elaborate, and it is much more positively coloured than the generality of the larger productions of the great artist. The noble cluster of trees contrasts beautifully with the bright sky above, and the foreground acquires considerable force by the delicacy with which the distant prospect, seen beneath the bridge, is managed. The character of Callcott's works is a combination of sweetness and tranquillity, undisturbed by any obtrusive introduction to mar the serenity of the landscape. This quality is admirably developed in the composition before us; the truthfulness of which must be at once recognised by every student of Nature among our fields and hamlets.] · WOODEN bridge, a hut embower'd, a stream That calmly seems to wait the dredger's will ; Horses with patient noses in a team; A wife, babe-holding, yet laborious still ; A burst of sunshine, cloud-racks, wide and chill 'Tis a right English, and a pleasant scene To duteous eyes, and eke the ducks, I ween. A chilly region is our English land, A moist green field set in the Northern sea, Where rain and wind strive for the upper hand, And more of winters than of summers be, Causing the dwellers to live seriously; To turn incompetence of joy to gain, And less seek pleasure, than escape from pain. UMUI THE VERNON GALLERY. But yet this gain becomes the gain of man, First ploughs up its own fields, then all the earth's, And over seas where never pleasure ran, And into sunshines of unworthy mirths, Goes bearing seeds of nobler future births, Fruits of their workmen's craft, and sages' shelves, And such as in good time shall bless themselves. Such as shall rail the whole round earth with roads For profit's feet, and mutual pleasure's too, Till all good strangers visit all abodes; The southern's laugh, the northern's icy mew, And China, calling on amazed Peru; And in the poorest veins of England, dance The thoughtless wines of England-thoughted France. And where, meantime, could wisest joys themselves Keep safer home, and count on calmer hours, Than where no wars insult those sages' shelves ; Nor ices freeze, nor sunshines melt, their powers ; Nor hurricanes, nor earthquakes, crash their bowers ; Nor aught forbids them, day by day, to fare As friends of Nature's face and Nature's air ? Besides, when summer comes, when June is true, And buttercups and daisies flush the scene, Where have the showers left skies of lovelier blue, Or meads of more enchanting, emerald green, With bowers of elms, and nestling homes between ? The moist green field is one great garden then, Fit for the raptures of a golden pen. Give me a cot beside an English wood, And leave to do the work my fancy might, And in the hope of universal good, Nought should I fail of business or delight, No, though the rain should pour six months outright; The sun should laugh but merrier when he came, And winter on my hearth be one good roaring flame. R. STANES. ENGRAVER . C.R LESLIE RA PAINTER SANCHO AND THE DUCHESS FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY SIZE OF TILE PICTURE 'SANCHO AND THE DUCHESS. c ult IUI A T is somewhat singular to remark how few of our early painters pursued that class of Art which has in more recent times been so widely practised, and has become so popular, namely, genre painting, or the illustrating domestic scenes, real or fictitious. Their principal aim seems to have been to follow, as far as their knowledge extended, in the paths of the old masters, by selecting the several kinds or descriptions of subject which gained these the crown of reward, perhaps in the hope that upon the shoulders of some, the mantle of their greatness might descend. Thus we find Thornhill, West, Wheatley, Opie, Northcote, Barry, Hamilton, &c. devoting their talents to history and mythology ; Reynolds, Gainsborough, Hudson, Hayman, &c. to portraiture : the only exception to these, of any note, was Hogarth, the great satirist of his day, whose pencil was always employed in “pointing a moral.” An American writer upon Art eloquently and truthfully remarks that “to be moved by gentle excitement, and even by quiet charms, proves refinement of feeling and alacrity of mind. It is one of the most striking tokens of advancing civilisation, that popular amusements gradually lose all coarseness,—the sports of the arena give way to the drama ; buffoonery and horrors are succeeded by classic dialogue and inspiring arias. Painting exemplifies the same transition ; and from martyrdoms and heathen divinities turns to domestic scenes and glimpses of humour and sentiment. The school of modern English Art is the legitimate offspring of her high civilisation.” * But, however we may find this change assimilate to our feelings and ideas, there cannot be a doubt that it has tended to depress the heroic and the grand in Art, while it has more freely developed the graceful; if we do not meet with what elicits astonishment and reverence, we find an abundance of such things as minister to our gratification, and delight us by their beauty and delicacy, or instruct us by their lessons : perhaps, after all, this is the genuine and legitimate end of Art—the message it should be employed to convey. No artist has laboured more effectively in this school than Mr. Leslie ; his pictures, though commonly replete with humour, never border on caricature; there is an elegant sentiment in * Tuckerman's “ Artist Lifc." THE VERNON GALLERY. the treatment of his subjects, however akin to the grotesque ; and that which in many other hands would become vulgarities are, by the grace of his pencil, chaste and refined both in form and expression : let the entire group in the engraving bear witness. Don Quixote has been a favourite field with our genre painters of late years, and many a gay and pleasant garland has it yielded to the gatherer therein ; and no wonder, for it abounds with incident and scenes of dramatic effect. Cervantes was unquestionably the Shakspeare of his country,—not because he wrote plays, but because what he wrote exhibited so perfect a knowledge of the human heart. The passage which Mr. Leslie has so admirably illustrated is taken from the chapter that treats of “the relishing conversation which passed between the Duchess, her damsels, and Sancho Panza." “ The Duchess made him sit down by her on a low stool, though Sancho, out of pure good manners, would have declined it; but the Duchess would have him sit down as a governor, and talk as a squire, since in both those capacities he deserved the very stool of the champion Cid Ruy Dias. Sancho shrugged up his shoulders, obeyed, and sat down ; and all the Duchess's damsels and duennas got round about him, in profound silence, to hear what he would say. But the Duchess spake first,” — — “At these words, Sancho, without making any reply, got up from his stool, and stepping softly, with his body bent, and his finger on his lips, he crept round the room, lifting up the hangings; and this being done, he presently sat himself down again, and said, “Now, Madam, that I am sure nobody but the company hears us, I will answer without fear or emotion to all you have asked, and to all you shall ask me ; and the first thing I tell you is, that I take my master, Don Quixote, for a downright madman.'” The scene here described is most graphically put upon the canvas, and the picture is certainly one of the masterpieces of the English School of genre painting. The easy dignity with which the beautiful Duchess on the couch listens to the suspicious whisperings of the worthy squire, is irresistibly charming. Her various female attendants enjoy the scene with all the zest of ingenuous nature ; while the sour and staid duenna on the left, offers a ludicrous example of the really comic effect of an assumed and misplaced dignity. The attitude of Sancho with his fingers pressed against his nose, significant of the importance attached to the matter under discussion is excellent : but viewed artistically, the best figure in the group, is the stooping lady in the fore- ground; had any other attitude been chosen, this figure could not have been introduced at all. Much of the charming effect of this picture, is owing to the very masterly treatment of its light and shade, which gives it a remarkable depth and substantiality, and wholly supplies any necessity for an absolute transparency of colouring, such as would be produced by glazing. The colouring of the work is greatly subdued, and yet, owing partly to the large mass of light in the centre, and the general skilful arrangement of the colours, there is no lack of brilliancy of effect in any portion. The picture in the Vernon Collection is the repetition, with several alterations, of one painted for Lord Egremont in 1823; that here engraved was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1844. 1 LI :: VENICE-THE DOGANA. MI . . HERE are two ways by which a painter may secure an interest in his works ; one, by appealing to the imagination of the spectator, LES and the other, by setting before him the simple unadorned beauties of Nature ; that is, Nature as she appears to the common observer. Each of these methods of dealing with Art has its advantages, and both are alike meritorious ; but the perfection of painting consists in the embodiment of the two, the union of the ideal with the actual,--the o investing the realities of life with the graces of creative fancy. A picture when thus treated wins its way to the feelings, as do the flowing lines of the poet, the melody of some sweet song, or the voice of eloquence; in all of which, however ordinary the theme, it is so set forth that the ear listens with delight, and the heart yields to the impulses called into existence by the unaided power of expression. Yet Art must not be regarded as a matter of feeling only; the temples reared in successive ages, and dedicated to sacred worship, were not erected merely to inspire a love for the beautiful, nor to excite wonder by their grandeur, in the eyes of the ignorant, but to do honour to the Deity, and to manifest the national respect to His cause ; so, in like manner, Art should be practised that it may inculcate lessons of wisdom, and be reverenced for the truths it speaks.“ Artists,” says a modern writer, “who work in this manner are genuine priests of humanity and oracles of God.” But the question that has so often been put with reference to other matters will naturally be suggested here also : “What is truth ?" and the reply would as naturally be dictated, not by established rule, but by each individual's own conception—by what he believes because it is present with him, or, at least, is thought to be so; for through the eye, the understanding becomes enlightened, and belief is confirmed. Yet what we look upon may be so transformed from its original state, so dressed up in the garb of adventitious ornament as to convey a very imperfect, and even erroneous, idea of the reality. Thus, if a person stands upon some lofty eminence at eventide, and sees a rich and luxuriant landscape stretched out before him, and the THE VERNON GALLERY. III UU y distance closed in by the towers, and spires, and edifices of a densely populated city, every portion of which is steeped in the brightness of the setting sun, the picture would undoubtedly be brilliant to the eye and pleasant to the imagination; but let him descend from his elevated position and minutely examine the scene which has elicited his admiration, the illusion would vanish at the sight of stagnant pools, low marshy swamps, and the dwelling-places of want and misery, destitution and crime; there would be no charm in the reality, although much in the aspect under which it is seen. Is there, then, a departure from truth in either case ? Certainly not; but the deformity of the one is lost in the glory of the other, both being alike portions of the same visible creation. In passing judgment on a picture which exhibits some extraordinary effect of atmosphere, clouds and sunshine, it would be wrong to say it is deficient in truth because we have never happened to see a similar effect. How often may not the least observant have noticed such apparent exaggeration of colour in the clouds, at all hours of the day, but especially in the evening, or before and after a storm, as would justify the observation, “ what an outrage upon nature," if we saw the same transferred to canvas? There is truth, however, in the painter's work, but truth expressed so equivocally to the common understanding as fairly to admit of doubt ; or, if comprehended, made distasteful by its seeming to overstep the limits of nature. The orator who employs ambiguous terms and hyperbolical words, or loads his subject with a display of rhetorical flourishes, may gain the applause of the ignorant, but is laughed at and contemned by those who are mentally competent to appreciate true eloquence ; so the painter who represents Nature “in her unwonted moods” must expect to come in for a large share of disparaging criticism. We will admit that the treatment of a subject should in every case correspond with the subject itself, and that all license may be allowed the painter to give to his work the most poetical construction of which it is susceptible ; he must not, however, be found travelling in the region of imaginative nature, nor relinquish the common world around him for the glittering fancies of his own erratic genius. It is acknowledged that there are men in every department of the business of life whose position encourages and permits them to do with impunity what lesser minds dare not venture upon; and even those possessed of inferior powers often address themselves to unordinary themes to win notice and the chance of applause. But this is totally unnecessary, for it has been well observed that “there is a vast and but partially explored domain around us, neither supernatural nor melo-dramatic, which may be vividly illustrated if wisely used.” There is no need to “paint the lily." These remarks will scarcely be deemed irrelevant by those who are acquainted with the later pictures of Mr. Turner, concerning which opinions differ to the farthest extremes of good and bad. The standard whereby they must be judged, however, is self-created, inasmuch as they have no parallel in ancient or modern Art, neither are the principles on which he works clearly manifest, even to the initiated. Whether his theories be right or wrong we are not disposed to argue, but one fact may be stated without fear of contradiction, VL UU THE VERNON GALLERY. 1 T . IT that if right, all other painters must have erred in their practice, so totally is he opposed to all. We can trace in the pictures of Claude, and Poussin, and Cuyp, none of those eccentricities of genius which characterise the works of Turner ; none of that ideality that baffles criticism, and renders it difficult to determine whether the visions of the painter are really of the earth, or whether they proceed from a “heat-oppressed brain.” These artists were content to represent nature in her own attire-gorgeous, and majestic, and beautiful, as each one respectively saw and portrayed her ; but still comprehensible to the lowest capacity. Turner, on the other hand, robes his material world in all the colours of the rainbow, yet arranged on principles as secret and impenetrable as the Eleusinian mysteries, and as little likely to be widely promulgated. There is no fear the style he has adopted will find many disciples, because it is so peculiarly his own that any approach to it, even if practicable, would at once betray the copyist; and secondly, because by other and less experienced hands, it must prove a complete failure. It would be curious, if it were possible to learn from one so reclusive in his studio, to ascertain why this extraordinary genius, for such he unquestionably is, permitted himself to wander from a path where he had already attained the reward of man's laudable ambition, and where he was welcomed with the respect due to his great talents by all, because all could understand and admire him, into one where few can follow him and appreciate his works. There is no instance we can at present call to mind of a painter so entirely changing his style as Turner has done within the last thirty years. Take the two pictures, for example, exhibited by him at the Royal Academy this year,—“The Wreck Buoy,” and “ Venus and Adonis,”— and would any one, except by reference to the catalogue, suppose they were the work of the same hand ? Not only in subject do they vary, but in treatment, in colour, in manipu- lation, the distinction could not be made more manifest. In one we have definite forms, correct drawing, harmony of tones ; in the other, all form is rejected, every object seems as it were “out of joint,” while colours, in their positive qualities, offer the most violent and even painful contrasts with each other. The first of the works here referred to was painted some thirty or more years ago, the latter quite of recent date. How is it then, it may be asked, that the artist still sustains his high reputation ? a reputation which places him in the ranks of the greatest landscape-painters of any age and country. It is simply because, with his apparent incongruities and affectations, his pictures contain the best materials for a fine work of Art, and show their author in the light of a great poet-painter. We could point out many of his works which are complete epic poems, wherein grandeur of conception, and beauty of language as translated through the pencil, have not been surpassed by any writer. But the meaning is not to be got at in a momentary glance, any more than a canto of Spenser's or a drama by Shakspeare can be appreciated by him who runs as he reads ; for the spectator's imagination must be called into exercise to fill up many a vacuum, and his mind must be imbued with a feeling in unison with that of the painter. Turner's pictures are a study full of profound mystery, but well repaying LLL LN THE VERNON GALLERY. any amount of time and thought which may be bestowed upon them; they are allegories wherein the loveliness and grandeur of nature lie hidden beneath a gorgeous wilderness of Art. The picture here engraved is one of those works which partake in an equal ratio of the two qualities whereby the painter is, or rather was, distinguished, the real and the imaginative; neither predominating in a marked degree : it was painted at a period when his pencil was in a state of transition from his earlier to his later style, and his eyes, yet undazzled by the visions of poetic dreams, were not closed against the glories of the natural world. The scene lies in Venice, the “ City of the Sea," a place more than any other, perhaps, suited to the peculiar genius of the artist, from its highly picturesque character, more especially in that union of architecture and water which Mr. Turner knows so well how to express. The view is taken from the Grand Canal, introducing the Dogana, or Exchange, to the right, and the Campanile, with other edifices, to the left. The time of day under which it is represented seems to be that described by Byron in his “ Childe Harold :”_ “The moon is up, and yet it is not night; Sunset divides the sky with her.” A rich warm glow covers the greater portion of the heavens, through which clouds of every form and hue are floating idly along. The city is bathed in similar atmospheric tints and casts its long bright shadows down to the foreground of the picture; the vessels in the middle distance fall under the same influence, but the gondola to the left, and the small one which the solitary gondolier is impelling, are coloured in dark tones that give extraordinary value to all the rest. It is in such touches as these that the painter shows his power over his materials, his profound knowledge of their uses, and his capability of applying them. The whole work is one of surpassing brilliancy, but without glare, and is painted with greater attention to definiteness of form than we find in the majority of his more recent pictures. It has been most exquisitely engraved by Mr. Willmore, who has worked much and successfully after Turner, and is, consequently, able to do him full justice. SUV 1 . THE BROOK BY THE WAY. 4 Joninde ITH the same feeling of enthusiasm that the old Italian devotee was accustomed to survey a picture of the “Holy Family," a “Madonna,” or a tutelary saint; and the Dutchman and Fleming the representation of some village “ Festival” or ale-house pastime, does the hearty, veritable Englishman regard a genuine English landscape. There is something in it which seems to form so CAEN large an integral part of his nature,—a portion of his existence ; some- P a thing which harmonises so completely with the current of his thoughts, his per hopes, and his enjoyments ; that whatever the peculiar features of the scenery may be, he is at home alike in all, and admires and loves all. It is not difficult to understand, nor to account for, this feeling in a land whose inhabitants are truly and : thoroughly domestic ; where the cotter takes a pride in his patch of garden, the merchant and opulent tradesman in his neatly trimmed lawn and gay flower-borders, the agriculturist in his green pastures and fat fields, and the noble in his ancestral domains, woods and parks, and stately halls. “Ever charming, ever new, When will the landscape tire the view ? The fountain's fall, the river's flow, The woody valleys warm and low, The windy summit, wild and high, Roughly rushing on the sky ! The pleasant seat, the ruin'd tower, The naked rock, the shady bower ; The lawn and village, dome and farm, Each gives to each a double charm.” --- - Gainsborough was essentially an English landscape-painter, and upon this class of works must his fame rest, whatever opinion may be entertained respecting his portraits ; born and nurtured amid the rich woods and picturesque lanes of Suffolk, he there acquired that relish for the ----- - -- -- - - ----- - ----- --- - - ------ ------- - THE VERNON GALLERY. 11 beauties of quiet nature and that intimate acquaintance with them which his pictures display so forcibly. His father being in somewhat narrow circumstances, it is probable that the greater portion of his earlier life was passed among the scenes he had painted ; the cottage children, the cattle, and the shepherd's dogs constituting his only living models, and nature his only teacher. They who are well acquainted with the works of this master can discover a wide difference between his earliest pictures and those of his latter period; in the former, every feature is studiously copied from nature to its minutest detail, while in those of more recent date he aimed at striking effect, breadth, and a skilful arrangement of light and shade. It is these qualities which distinguish the noble picture of the “Brook by the Way;" the bold and well arranged fore-ground, with the picturesque ruins of what was once a noble oak, gives a due position to the clearly deepened details of the middle distance, which is so truly made out, that a less vigorous pencil would have failed to preserve the just balance of the two parts. The whole scene is lighted up with a rich glow of evening sunshine, painted with exceeding warmth and brilliancy. It may be presumed that this picture was painted when Gainsborough's pencil might be called in a state of transition between the two points just referred to ; for though characterised by exceeding breadth of treatment, it is most carefully executed. It has, unfortunately, lost something of its freshness of colouring, from the circumstance of its being hung for upwards of half a century over the mantel-piece of a house in Bedford Square, exposed to all the vicissitudes which such a locality would be likely to entail upon it; yet, with this shadow on its original beauty, it stands forth a glorious specimen of the genius of the “Father of the English Landscape School." 1 - - - - - - - - - - - . .. - - - . . - - . - - -- - - -- - - - -- - - -- . . - SIR pooroviniai W. ETTY. BA PATNTER. F. BACON, ENGRAVER THE PENITE NT. FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY. SIZE OF THE PICTURE LET. IR SY I FT 3 IN PRINTED BY LORWOOD & WATKINS LONDON PUBLISHED FOR THE PROPRIETORS. THE PENITENT. . . iri IUI ILLIAM ETTY, R.A., the most distinguished painter, in his own department, which our school has yet known, was born at York on the tenth of March, 1787. His father, like those of Rembrandt and Constable, followed the business of a miller, and the first panels S C whereon the embryo artist drew. were the boards of his father's shop-floor, and his first crayon was a farthing's-worth of white chalk. At the age of ten years and a half he was apprenticed to a letter-press 199 printer, at Hull, to whom he served his full term of seven years ; but the desire to become a painter had closely adhered to him during this period, and when emancipated from his servitude he came up to London to some affluent relations, the one who liberally forwarded him in the career he had chosen. His first academy was in a plaster-cast shop, near Smithfield, where he studied and drew most assiduously. A drawing he made of “Cupid and Psyche,” after the antique, was shown to Opie, the Academician, who thought so highly of the work that he gave the young artist' a letter of introduction to Fuseli, by whom Mr. Etty was admitted a probationer at the Royal Academy, entering at the same time with Collins, and encouraged by the presence of Haydon and Hilton, companions with him in pursuing his course of Historic Art. An introduction to Sir T. Lawrence, and a fee of one hundred guineas, induced him to take young Etty into his studio for twelve months ; here he was left to struggle with the difficulties of Art and execution, for the incessant occupation of the great portrait-painter left him little time to assist his pupil. “I was almost beside myself,” he writes to a friend ; "here was the turn of my fate : I felt I could not get on ; despair of success in copying my master's works had well nigh swamped me; but a voice within me said, “Persevere :' I did so, and at last triumphed; but I was nearly beaten.” Happy is it for the renown of British Art, and for the painter's own immortal fame, that he was not vanquished ! But it was in the Life School of the Academy that Etty felt the greatest enjoyment, and learned his most valuable lessons ; here he studied the anatomy of the human figure, and worked from the living model ; he also, to use his own language, “painted heads from nature, copied from pictures, sketched from prints after the antique, but painted from the golden effects of light by night, and found my notions of light and colour my favourite themes.” But as yet his O 1 Y VIDU V UL THE VERNON GALLERY. † - ... - - - - - - -.-. . . . . . ULUU UUD labours were doomed to disappointment; six pictures sent to the Academy exhibition were all returned ; year after year, both at the British Institution and at the Academy, did this happen. Something was wrong ; what could it be ?—at length his master told him that he had a very good eye for colour, but that in other respects he was lamentably deficient. A consciousness of a fault is half way to amendment ; he set to work with renewed energy in drawing from every source which could improve, and was rewarded by finding that a small picture sent to the British Institution, and admitted, attracted very marked attention. “I felt,” he says, “now my chariot wheels were on the right road to fame and honour, and I drove on like another Jehu.” In the summer of 1822 Mr. Etty set out for Italy, visited Rome, Venice, Florence, and Naples, studying the glorious works of Art in those cities; and what perhaps proved of greater service to him than even the knowledge he acquired there, made friends with those who, in after-life, assisted him to gain the exalted station he now occupies. Of these places Venice was his favourite resort_“ Venice, the birthplace and cradle of colour, the hope and idol of my professional life, thy pictured glories haunt my fancy still.” The Venetian Academy elected him an Honorary Academician. “ Charleston, in America,” he says, “ gave me the first diploma, Venice the second, England the third ; last, not least, in my estimation. I worked in the day in the cold marble halls of Venice till my fingers were almost petrified ; I worked at night in the Royal Academy: the professor used sometimes to come to me and say, if he were to prick my study with a pin it would bleed." After a residence of two years in Italy, Mr. Etty returned to England, through Paris, where he stopped to paint in the Louvre. He arrived in London, bringing with him a full- sized copy of Titian's celebrated “Venus,” from Florence, and numerous other copies of pictures and studies from well-known works. The first picture he now painted was a subject from Hesiod, “ Pandora, formed by Vulcan, and crowned by the Syrens :" it was purchased by Sir T. Lawrence, and is at present the property of J. Neeld, Esq., M.P. This work, containing eight or nine figures, with accompaniments, was painted in a few weeks, that it might be in. time for the Exhibition. The Royal Academy elected the artist an Associate for it. His next important production was the “ Combat ;” which was followed by three colossal pictures from the “ History of Judith,” by Benaiah ; “ Ulysses and the Syrens ;" “ Joan of Arc;” and a multitude of smaller pictures, which advanced his own fame, and extended the glory of the Arts of his country. How diligently and how successfully he laboured, the Exhibition now open at the Society of Arts testifies; it is one wherein every Englishman must feel a just pride. “ The Penitent,” here engraved, was painted some few years back: it is a small picture, and represents a female, semi-nude, engaged in devotion with a missal before her. The subject is scarcely one to excite admiration, but the expression of the face is highly successful, and the colouring of the picture remarkably rich. We shall have better opportunities of entering upon a critical examination of the works of this great painter, when introducing other engravings which are more important exponents of his genius. THE SCHELDT, TEXEL ISLAND. I ROZ ( M 1 HE Painter of marine subjects must be looked for only in maritime countries; or, in other words, artists cannot be expected to paint what they never see, nor, in fact, what they are not intimately acquainted with. In Art, as in ordinary matters, our feelings are most interested in our associations, and our ideas most frequently borrowed from what is around us; in support of this assertion it is only necessary to refer to the state of Art at various epochs and in different lands. The religious feeling, real or assumed, which prevailed JOLAY throughout Italy and Spain, from the thirteenth to the sixteenth centuries, go gave rise to a multitude of pictures of sacred subjects that filled every monastery and convent throughout these respective countries : the passion evinced . by the Dutch for the cultivation of flowers, doubtless produced at one period so large a number of excellent painters of this class of subject; and at another time their naval renown brought out the Vanderveldes, Backhuysen, Peters, and numerous others : the love of the Flemings for pastoral pursuits and rustic recreations gave birth to a large class of painters of such subjects ; and, to come down to later times, the military glory of the French under Napoleon furnished the artists of that nation with abundant and welcome themes for the exercise of their genius. Thus we see that, for the time being, the arts of a country reflect, in a great measure, the habits and occupations of the people. Notwithstanding the naval supremacy manifested by Great Britain for so many years, we have produced comparatively few marine-painters; a fact for which it is somewhat difficult to account. Prior to the end of the last century whatever was done in this department of Art, was the work of foreigners settled in this country, such as the two Vanderveldes, Schellincks, and Danckert, all Dutchmen, in the time of Charles II. ; Van Diest, some years after; Van Garlen and some others, still later. When our own school began to assume “a local habitation and a name,” in the middle and towards the close of the past century there appeared Brooking, whose works were considered little inferior to those of Vandervelde or Backhuysen ; Bourgeois, Loutherbourg, West, Wright of Liverpool, and Wright of Derby, all of whom varied their usual styles with occasional sea-views; but yet, for the most part, these were greatly inferior to their _ _ THE VERNON GALLERY. other productions. Among those of our own day who follow in the wake of the above, Mr. Stanfield undoubtedly ranks among the foremost, Turner having long since declined this branch of Art, except in what may rather be termed "river views” than “sea-pieces.” Marine-painting, to be really excellent, requires more skill and deeper study than the uninitiated are apt to imagine : unlike landscape scenery, the objects presented to the eye of the painter are, generally, ever shifting and changing, and the colours reflected upon a broad expanse of waters are constantly assuming different hues and tones : it demands, therefore, a quick observant eye, and a rapid hand to catch form and tint in their evanescent progress; while in sketching from nature on the ocean, the action of the waves, if the artist happen to be in a small vessel, renders his operation still more difficult. Yet an enthusiastic lover of his Art is not deterred by these, or still greater, obstacles from pursuing it vigorously and courageously. Backhuysen was accustomed to expose himself to the greatest “dangers of flood,” by hiring fishermen to convey him out in the most tempestuous weather, to observe the forms and character of the troubled waters; and the elder Vandervelde ran the hazard of a cannon-ball, that he might witness the battle, in 1665, between the English fleet, under the Duke of York, and the Dutch Admiral Opdam : he was also present in the memorable action fought in the following year by Albemarle's feet and the Dutch under De Ruyter. The subject of Mr. Stanfield's picture, is the Old or Oude Scheldt, Texel Island, on the northern extremity of Holland; the view looks towards Nieuwe Diep and the Zuyder Zee. The treatment of the scene expresses squally weather, and its effect is not better seen in the swelling sails of the craft than in the white crested wave. Every thing is wet, cold, and windy in spite of the sun --disagreeables of frequent occurrence on the muddy shores of the Texel. The ruined picturesque mill on the right, speaks of many such storms in the past; while on the other hand, the vessels riding in the offing proclaim the safe roadstead of Texel harbour, the refuge of many a shattered ship after the rival contests of the fleets we have already referred to. The picture is altogether full of incident, and the peculiarities of the bleak Northern Sea, when so faithfully represented as we find them here, become in a corresponding degree as pictorially attractive as they are unpleasant in reality. Such is the charm of true Art :—the murky clouds and the muddy waves of the Zuyder Zee, rival in interest the sunny skies and blue waters of the Adriatic; indeed we are not sure that under the influence of Mr. Stanfield's pencil, our feelings are not in favour of the former : certainly his Dutch subjects are among the best of his works, for there is a charm in his manner of painting such scenes, which makes its way to the hearts of all who are familiar with the North Sea. The picture was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1844 : the engraver has made a faithful transcript of it, retaining all its excellencies in a most successful manner ; the water is full of motion, and the gleam of sunshine which lightens up the centre of the picture, is admirably rendered. T re I CPU EM WARDARA PAINTER FREDERICK BACON, ENGRAVER. THE FALL OF CLARENDON. SIZE OF LORD NORTHWICKS PICTURE FROM THE PICTURE IN THE COLLECTION OF THE RIGHT FON: LORD NORTHWICK A DUPLICATE BEING IN THE VERNON GALLERY SIZE OF THE VERNON PICTURE 2 4 BY IF ON: PINTED BY NORWOOD & WATKINS DOK FUPUSHES FOR THE PROPRIETORS WYSOROK VIRTUE 36 PATRENDER FOR THE FALL OF CLARENDON. BY MRS. S. C. HALL. SA LARENDON HOUSE, the magnificent palace of the great Earl of Clarendon, Lord High Chancellor of England, -—the building of which, at vast expenditure, by exciting envy and suspicion, was the main cause of his downfall—is now indicated but by two pillars, of Corinthian order, which form the door-posts of a stable-yard in Piccadilly. Few of the thousands who pass it by daily, pause to bestow a thought upon the poor remnants which yet indicate the site; or revert to the olden time, when the now crowded locality was the immediate vicinage of the Court—a suburb of gigantic London. Yet what lofty memories are associated with this throng of houses ; and with what force they come upon us, if we stroll through the broad street at night! Everything in London is suggestive : for everything has a History. A moment's pause on the paved terrace which skirts the Green Park, and a glance along the varied line of “ homes,” commencing with that of “the Iron Duke”—the square, solid, unpicturesque casket, which contains the tributes of mighty nations to one mightier than they,--and continued by mansions, in some of which lights are glittering and banquets are spread, to houses telling of the commingling of ranks, manifesting the health and strength of a commercial country, where the busy traffic of the day has yielded to repose, -on and on, until, as memories crowd upon us, we are forced to pause and think how rightly proud we may be that our father-land is prodigal of immortal names ! The scene, in its happy silence, suggests the deeds and the men who have stamped their ht ma [The Print has been engraved from the picture painted by Mr. E. M. Ward, in 1846, and exhibited that year at the Royal Academy : it was purchased by the liberal and good Lord Northwick, by whom it was kindly lent for the purpose of engraving. As, however, there is a duplicate of the picture in the Vernon Gallery, made for Mr. Vernon by Mr. Ward, it has been thought right to introduce it into this Series. The size of Lord Northwick's picture is 6 feet by 4 feet 6 inches : that in the Vernon collection is much smaller-being 2 feet 4 inches by 1 foot 9 inches. Mr. Vernon was also the purchaser of Mr. Ward's “Dr. Johnson in the Ante-room of Lord Chesterfield,” and the “South Sea Bubble;" both of which are, of course, in the Vernon Gallery.] THE VERNON GALLERY. celebrities around us; many of them sleep beneath the heavy architecture of England's great Mausoleum—the massive towers of which are dimly traced in the distance; others in humbler, but not less immortal, graves ; and even while we dwell upon their glories, and reverence the great truths they taught, it is a joyful privilege to know that, talk and write as we may about the pleasant old time of “ Merrie England,” we have achieved greater works, overcome mightier difficulties, learned of science new strength, opened our hearts as well as our ears to more important truths, acquired fresh sympathies, and now stand forth a far greater Nation in this our own age than we did in ages gone by. There may be much of evil left to— " Change our strain, And check our pride." But who dares to say that England will not proceed in her march of triumph, both for time and for eternity? Who will not rejoice that England is now pre-eminent above all the nations of the earth in self-respect and self-confidence combined with hope and trust! The artist who painted this leaf from our History is evidently self-thinking—he reads and reflects—he studies and comprehends character, and has a strong leaning towards the sterling uprightness of unalloyed English, nature ; he has obviously great faith in the sterner virtues, and attaches high value to moral worth. Nothing in Art can be conceived in a truer spirit than the dignity and pose of the ex-Chancellor's figure descending the steps after his final interview with the degraded monarch to whom England, influenced by the lassitude and incapacity which succeeds national fever, returned a crown. The whole past of that old man's life had been devoted to the service of the royal trifler, who, followed by his dogs, has heedlessly turned his back upon the tried friend, whose protection, commencing at the battle of Edge Hill, continued through the perils of starvation, war, and treachery ; during which he was not only never found wanting, but was foremost in all acts of devotion ; enduring separation from a family he loved with the deepest tenderness ; deaf to all the suggestions of others, and the still more dangerous insinua- tions of an ambitious mind, he was steady, upright, and true in his deep and earnest loyalty ; and the painted canvas well tells how the heartless and worthless and most profligate King rewarded him! You read the story here--the fate of a man devoted, “not wisely, but too well.” A great fact it is ; a solemn warning honestly put before us. Mr. Ward, we may suppose, painted in some degree from Pepys's description, so vividly disgusting, of Lady Castle- maine's conduct as Clarendon left Whitehall. It is worth quoting :- 1 I “When he (Clarendon) went from the King on Monday morning, she (Lady Castlemaine) was in bed (though about twelve o'clock), and ran out in her smock into her aviary looking into Whitehall Garden ; and thither her woman brought her her nightgown, and stood blessing herself at the old man's going away; and several of the gallants of Whitehall (of which there were many staying to see the Chancellor's return) did talk to her in her birdcage, among others Blancford, telling her she was a bird of passage.” This is indeed a picture of “old times”! “good old times !” Rare times for modest women and true-hearted men! The artist has rendered the King's character to admiration, as he walks in the distance - THE VERNON GALLERY. through an alley of bowing courtiers, assuming an air of ease, and followed by his page and a tribe of little dogs—whose introduction into England is almost the only pleasant memory connected with his reign ; the satire upon the littleness of mind displayed by the Chancellor's enemies, is still more effectively worked out by the episode of an ape dressed in Chancellor's robes, which “mows and mops” from Lady Castlemaine's “ birdcage"—the disgusting caricature of humanity, trained to insult the Lord Clarendon, who sees all but heeds nothing : the dignity of his real nature never showing more nobly than when the state he had so long maintained passed from him for ever. Mr. Ward has rendered all this most faithfully; and while portraying the “Lily-like” beauties of the most notorious women of the Court, he has suffered the evil passions of their degraded minds to canker, as it were, their faces : so that admiration never excites a better feeling, and the eye as well as the heart returns to the banished old man, instead of remaining with the “patched and painted Jezebels.” On that very day—the day on which occurred the incident here painted—when Charles, taunted by Lady Castlemaine for not having insisted upon Clarendon's delivering at once the Great Seal, fell upon his knees to crave her pardon, and then dismissed Morrice, the state secretary, with a warrant under the sign-manual to demand it, Clarendon was employed in sealing the formal proclamation of the Peace of Breda ; and, while the wax was yet hot, he delivered up the insignia with an expression of submission to the royal will, and of satisfaction “that his last official act was to restore harmony between two Nations who ought to be united.” It must be lamented, however, that in the teeth of public opinion Lord Clarendon persisted in erecting so superb a palace in the neighbourhood of the Court. Whoever is in advance of his time runs great danger of martyrdom. In his case, the building excited the jealousy of both courtiers and citizens ; the former only saw that they were built out- built over-by the ambitious Chancellor—by the father-in-law of England's future King; the people of those days fancied that a splendid house was like the Ogre's castle-built to conceal treasure ; while experience proves that nothing so much diffuses treasure, often to the ruin of the builder. For a short time Lord Clarendon occupied Dorset House, in Salisbury Court, once the residence of the Bishops of Salisbury; and then lived in Worcester House, which stood in the Strand, on the ground now occupied by Beaufort Buildings. He had also a villa at Twickenham, called York's Farm, or York House, and during the Great Fire, in 1666, his furniture and effects were sent there. There is much recorded of the magnificent residence he possessed at Cornbury, in Oxfordshire, where he “entertained” during the long vacations in a style of princely magnificence. Mention is also made of Caron, or Croome, House, at South Lambeth, which was granted in fee in 1666 “to Edward Earl of Clarendon." These and many others he might doubtless have enjoyed if it had not pleased him to purchase the stones intended for the rebuilding of St. Paul's, and appro- priate them to the erection of a princely mansion in the face of the Court, and upon a piece O THE VERNON GALLERY. AY . of land granted him by the Crown, as we are told, “on the road to Kensington, near unto Piccadilly, where there stood a tavern famous for wine of rare flavour, and for gambling" inseparable companions ever, to effect the ruin of all that is naturally noble in our natures. Disraeli, in his valuable work, “The Curiosities of Literature,” in a paper on “Palaces built by Ministers," says it is no wonder that Wolsey and Buckingham built palaces—“ they rose and shone the comets of the political horizon of Europe.” “The Roman tiara still haunted the imagination of the Cardinal ; and the egotistic pride of having outrivalled Richelieu and Olivarez—the nominal Ministers, but the real Sovereigns of Europe -kindled the buoyant spirit of the gallant and the splendid Villiers. But,” he asks, “what folly of the wise” must account for the conduct of the “profound Clarendon ?" Perhaps it might be traced to an overgrown organ of constructiveness. The same propensity that caused him to write his “History of the Rebellion” urged him to erect the "spacious and fine house”—no vestige of which remains at this day, save two stunted Corinthian columns which form the gateway of the “Three Kings Inn," near Dover Street, in Piccadilly ; they are, properly speaking, only pilasters painted of a drab colour, which, being rubbed off in sundry places, have assumed a diseased aspect; either they have sunk, or, what is more likely, the earth has grown about them—for now they are miserably out of proportion, and insulted grievously by the blue-board proclamation of a livery stable. * If there were no record of the past in this broad high- way of magnificence and commerce but these poor plastered things, they are enough to teach important lessons ; thousands pass them by, without thought or inquiry, although they are out of keeping with any- thing around them. It is well that the labours of the mind endure longer than the more palpable efforts of the body, or every existing trace of this great man would have been a contempt rather than a glory. He reproached himself in his life for “weakness and vanity” in the outlay occasioned by the building—the relic of which we have just noticed; and which he also says “more con- tributed to that gust of envy that had so violently shaken him, than any misdemeanor that he was thought to have been guilty of.” He might well say so, when the house was pointed he WI ME AL : 1 % nijo. - ū : . VARD 10 j LIFT . ma IN VERN 2012 ho 5..F LASTY, * According to Bishop Burnet, the building of this structure, which cost above 50,0001., raised a great outcry against the Chancellor. “Some called it Dunkirk House, intimating that it was built by the peace of Dunkirk; others called it Holland House, because it was given out that he had the money from the Dutch” and inasmuch as he had purchased some stones intended for the repair of St. Paul's—a project which had been laid aside" the popular odium was increased thereby.” It was commenced in 1664; and on entering it in April, 1667, the Chancellor said, “This house will one day be my ruin—" as it was. “It stood at the upper end of St. James's Street, where Albemarle Street, and the streets adjoining, now are." THE VERNON GALLERY. ILIU 0 LU VLU at as a state crime, and pestilence, conflagration, war, and defeats, were connected with Clarendon, or, as the malcontents called it, Dunkirk House !—the house raised as much in fondness as in pride, and the memory of which was a sweet solace to him in exile : for when its sale was proposed to him, he says, “ he remained so infatuated with the delight he had enjoyed, that, though he was deprived of it, he hearkened very unwillingly to the advice.” The magnificence of this house was of but short duration. In 1683 it was sold for its materials, and a little anecdote, told by Evelyn, is one of the many memories connected with that gentle and delicately-minded man most gratifying to dwell upon.' Evelyn was returning to town with the son of the old Chancellor, and “in passing by the glorious palace his father built but a few years before, which they were demolishing, being sold to undertakers, I turned my head the other way till the coach was gone past, lest I might minister occasion of speaking of it, which needs must have grieved him, that in so short a time this pomp was fallen.” Neither rapine nor revolution can produce a more heart-rending picture than the spoliation of the treasure-house of high thoughts, learning, and happiness. There are people in the world who cannot understand this—who look upon the interior of a house as a square inclosed by brick and mortar, and take no note of the memories and loves enshrined therein. It was not from such clay that Evelyn's heart was made ! Clarendon, although the father of three sons, and by the marriage of his daughter, Anne Hyde, with the Duke of York, afterwards James II., grandfather of two ladylike and gentle-minded Queens-Mary and Anne-yet, after the middle of the last century, no male descendant remained to bear his name : he is now represented, through a female branch, by the present excellent Earl of Clarendon. The Chancellor's great solace, during his exiles—for the King, and by the King's command- was literature ; thus falling back for consolation upon the taste imbibed in his youth. He tells us himself, that “ Whilst he was only a student at law and stood at gaze, irresolute what course of life to take, his chief acquaintances were Ben Jonson, John Selden, Charles Cotton, John Vaughan, Sir Kenelm Digby, Thomas May, and Thomas Carew, and some others of eminent faculties in their several ways.” What a preparation such associates must have been for the young lawyer's future career, through “ Each change of many-coloured life!” 1 IL What learning must he not have imbibed from Selden, what wit from Cotton, what grace and eloquence from Sir Kenelm Digby! And, in the after portion of his life, when the fever of existence was subdued by time and circumstance, how truly does he rejoice that the fanciful and elegant Carew "was at the last brought to the greatest manifestation of Christianity that his best friends could desire," and how cordially does he offer a fitting tribute to “ Rare Ben Jonson," although the poet “had for many years an extraordinary kindness for Mr. Hyde, till he found he betook himself to business, which he believed ought never to be preferred before his company.” This contempt of “business "- “The frivolous pretence Of human lust to cast off innocence ! ” THE VERNON GALLERY. LU LU TYI was in keeping with the gruff old poet, who, while he strengthened and exalted the English language, was, in the Chancellor's opinion, “the best judge of, and fittest to prescribe rules to, poetry and poets, of any man who had lived with, or before him, or since." Truly, while we have such emphatic warnings that this is not our abiding city, we must also remember that great honour is due to those who raise around us imperishable monuments of Art and Literature. The records of such great and good men are themes worthy the best efforts of British Art. A gallery filled with productions like this, must do honour to our country, and become glorious and noble incentives to her sons. Clarendon, after sailing from the pretty village of Erith, betook himself to France ; Louis XIV., playing with his tortures, received him first (through his officers) with all distinction ; then (finding it was not pleasant to his worthy brother of England so to do) treated him with unparalleled cruelty. His body worn down by pain and suffering, he at last found a resting-place at Montpelier, and solaced himself again with the literature he so dearly loved. And yet his cup of affliction was not full ; his daughter's apostacy, quickly followed by her death, plunged him again into a sea of sorrow, and he was persuaded to change the scene to Moulins. As his days became numbered, his desire either to return to his native land, or to be near it in death, urged him to remove to Rouen, and he endeavoured to soften the obdurate heart of the King by another petition that he might be permitted to die among his children. “Seven years”-so ran his supplication—“Seven years vas a time prescribed and limited by God himself for the expiation of some of his greatest judgments; and it is full that time since I have, with all possible humility, sustained the insupportable weight of the King's displeasure. Since it will be in nobody's power long to prevent me from dying, methinks the desiring a place to die in should not be thought a great presumption." Charles never answered this letter ; let us hope that—bad and heartless as he was—he never received it. Clarendon died at Rouen on the 9th of the last month of the year 1674. The insensible clay was interred on the north side of Henry VII's chapel, in Westminster Abbey-an honour (we had written it a mockery) bestowed doubtless because of his alliance with the Royal Family ; but neither of his descendants-Queens of England-honoured him with a monument, nor by any inscription enabled posterity to ascertain the precise spot where repose the ashes of their grandfather Clarendon !—the great and wise Lord High Chancellor of England ! The Painter, WARD, has, however, erected a monument to his memory. Such is the proud privilege of Art—such mighty power has the Artist ! n THE WOODLAND GATE. S 21 AR mar 19 11 IN VISI, V . . CU HERE is not so much difference between painting and literature as some would imagine. A picture is a book for the entertainment or instruction of those who may peruse it, and the artist is an author seeking to propound a theory, to narrate a story, or to indite a poem, by the aid of the pencil instead of the pen. Thus the painter of history and of ordinary domestic scenes may be compared with the dramatist whether of tragedy or comedy, to the novelist, and 15 to the descriptive writer ; he who practises religious art with the theologian and the purely didactic writer ; while the landscape painter may take his place beside the poet whose inspirations are drawn from the world of nature around him. It would be difficult to determine the question whether the productions of author or artist tend more to the moral benefit of mankind; one thing, however, may be stated without fear of contradiction, that while much, very much has been written, even by the most gifted minds, calculated to turn men aside from the path of 'ectitude, it is the boast of Art that no such charge can, with the least semblance of truth, be brought against her ; no, not even in the most corrupt and licentious periods of her history. We sometimes meet with vulgarity, and also with what, to our modern ideas of refinement, is offensive to delicacy, but never with that which is vicious and debasing; for the drunken revels of the old Dutch painters, and the mythological scenes of a few of the Italian and Flemish artists are more likely to create disgust than to invite imitation—to deter rather than to ensnare. And so while the philosophy of nature and science, romance and poetry, and the theology too of some divines, have shaken the faith of many, and made sceptics and free-thinkers, and taught immorality to others ; Art has had no fellowship with these things but has rather reproved them. It may safely be affirmed that no one ever quitted a picture-gallery, however extensive and varied, a worse man from the deep study of its contents than when he entered it. The philosophy of art is not to be acquired in the studies of the schoolmen, nor can its effects be explained by any other laws than those which spring from the feelings of our common nature; and here it embraces the widest range of human comprehension. The child whose tongue can scarcely lisp a sentence—the half-witted being over whose intelligence a film hath been ULO I U SI CU THE VERNON GALLERY. mysteriously thrown to exclude the light of reason—the veteran in years and the old in wisdom—each and all find in it something they know, and feel, and understand. It is astonishing how soon the mere infant is delighted with a picture, and how rarely a man loses his relish for it before his faculties become deadened and his sight is dimmed by the hand of time. And this range of human comprehension of art, extending as it does through almost the entire period of life, is mainly attributable to the still wider circle which bounds the whole world, material and immaterial. While it makes every action and passion of the mind subservient to its end, there is not an atom of creation that is not enlisted in its service—from the single blade of grass and the simplest wild flower, to the loftiest tree and the “cloud-capt” mountain—from the minutest drop of dew clinging like a pearl to some hawthorn blossom, to the wide and fathomless ocean—from the thin and vapoury mist which creeps along the valley before a summer's sun, to the dark rolling thunder-cloud breaking in solemn majesty o'er a thirsty land. What science, however large its operations, presents so broad and varied a field for pleasant occupation ?-or what erudition can be compared with that which is gathered from the visible world around us, and brings man, while acquiring it, into fellowship with the beautiful ? Truly is the artists an enviable position ; he heaps not up riches from the full stores of nature for himself only, others share them with him, or rather possess themselves of his wealth ; what he has found pleasure in he dispenses for the enjoyment of thousands. It is a privilege to be a painter. TI “ Thou art the fairest of the sisters three, Genius of Painting ! all hearts bow t) thee! Music and Poetry with voice divine Can draw a thousand votaries to their shrine; Both can describe events that onward roll, In strains or language that enchant the soul : But Thou alone the rainbow tints hast caught, To stamp with life the poet's brightest thought." - - - There are pictures that almost force themselves upon our wonder and admiration by their grandeur and power; there are others which, by their unaffected sweetness and simplicity, their fresh and healthy spirit, as irresistibly win our love. The chief merit of some can only be discovered in its true value, after close and attentive study ; the beauty of others is discernible at a glance. Yet the estimation in which a picture is held by the multitude, depends not so much on its own intrinsic merits as a work of art, independent of the subject, as on the language it addresses to the spectator and his capacity for understanding it. And it is curious to observe in the crowded exhibition-rooms of our Royal Academy, what groups will throng round the works of such familiar painters as Mulready, Webster, Redgrave, &c, as they used to do round those of Wilkie and Collins ; while to the artist of more exclusive subjects are awarded the attention and praise of the comparative few, but those few whose good opinion and whose judgment abundantly compensate for the absence of the many. Yet the many have of late years become no contemptible judges in the mysteries of connoisseurship, and their verdict may now be taken as not very far from the truth. DU THE VERNON GALLERY. lore When writing upon previous pictures by Collins from which engravings have appeared in this publication, we spoke of the “ materials” that generally made up his compositions ; these were chosen from the truants in green lanes, the loiterers by cottage doors, and sea-side wanderers ; so that if the engraving of “The Woodland Gate” had no painter's name attached to it, none who are acquainted with the works of Collins, and who that knows anything of English Art is ignorant of them ?—would hesitate to pronounce it from his pencil. It is one of those pleasant joyous scenes he delighted to paint. Yet his mind would sometimes take a turn in an opposite direction, and deal with the sad and the sorrowful, from which even they whose lives seem the purest in the simplicity of their nature and habits, are not exempt. We remember an exquisitely touching picture from his hand painted some years ago, and engraved for one of the “Annuals ” of that time, entitled “ The Sale of the Pet Lamb," so full of beautiful but affecting pathos in the tale it tells, as at once to show the painter's heart was formed of no “stern stuff ;” it was a heart that could sympathise with those who “may not have one thing to love, how small soe'er it be;"—a volume descriptive of the trouble which poverty may bring upon a household of young children, could not more effectually unfold their grief than does the subject of this simple pastoral picture. There is an anecdote related of George III. which might have reached Collins, and possibly suggested to him the “Woodland Gate." The King, whose habit of taking a solitary walk in the vicinity of his favourite residence at Windsor is well known, was once strolling in the immediate neighbourhood of the “Great Park," where he encountered a group of rustic children, one of whom was riding on a gate which his companions were swinging to and fro. The monarch's natural kindness and simplicity of heart led him into conversation with them, and elicited the remark from one of the group to whom he was, of course, unknown,-“that he wished he was King Georgy, that lived at the big castle !” “And what would you do," asked the King, “if you were ?”—“Why, I would swing on this gate and eat fat bacon all day, and then I should be as happy as Georgy!” The little fellow's idea of supreme felicity was not extravagant as regarded his own wants, nor had he the least conception that even monarchs have something else to do than to “eat, drink, and be merry," the live-long day. The supposition that Collins may have borrowed his idea of this picture from the above anecdote is in some measure borne out by the title by which the work is generally known, and under which it appeared when exhibited at the Royal Academy, in 1836, “Happy as a King." The artist painted two pictures of the same subject, but differing slightly in one or two of the details ; the other picture, which has also been engraved on a scale a little larger than our own, has in it a dog in the act of barking playfully at the merry group; the distant landscape is also somewhat varied from this, but in all the principal features the two works are identically the same. The scene wherein this juvenile comic sketch is placed is a beautiful bit of pastoral- apparently the outskirts of a thick wood through which runs one of those green turf drives not unfrequently found in the southern and eastern parts of England. Kent, Suffolk, and im THE VERNON GALLERY. no1 CU Hampshire abound with them, and pleasant is it in the cool of a summer's evening to ride softly and lazily over the thick moss that hides every particle of earth, so that you might fancy your horse's hoofs were treading upon a carpet of the richest velvet pile. There is no dust, no clatter of human voices, no rush of other horsemen, or of swiftly driven vehicles that make up the grand ensemble of a fashionable ride in “ the park ” during “ the season ” when one imbibes but a very small quantity of the fresh air that is sought after, unless it has chanced to be purified by a passing shower or two. But in these “woodland” drives we hear the whistle of the blackbird, and the trilling of the thrush, and the plaintive coo of the wild pigeon, and perhaps the chatter of the jay,—a bird far more rare, we think, than it used to be, when as a boy we made acquaintance with almost every feathered tribe of the woods ; it is many years since a jay has flown past us, with its red brown breast and its beautiful light blue wings, one of the prettiest of our forest birds. And the sun as it goes down, throws its long lines of beauty across the pathway, colouring it at intervals with the brightest yellow, and penetrating with golden rays the thick screen-work of leaves that overhang the road, along which we now and then catch sight of a hare running at an easy gentle pace, as in perfect assurance there is no necessity for increasing his speed on account of danger apprehended. Such scenes as these are of Nature's own creation, and worthy of the painter's genius ; they whose destiny it is to live remote from them, to know them only among the remembrances of things gone from his world of actual existence-to see types and shadows of the beautiful instead of the realities are greatly indebted to those who invite to a banquet at which the mind may feast, and proffer to the imagination flowers which the feet cannot press. The group so merrily engaged at the “gate," belong to the rustic tribes one sees in the vicinity of every hamlet, mustering numerously in a summer's evening on the ground which the peasant claims for his own—the village common; and distant, very far distant, may the day be that deprives him of this freehold—his rightful patrimony, to which modern economists have already turned a wistful eye for miscalled improvements. There is a class of politicians who would turn everything into money, or into money's worth, and would not leave the poor man a square yard of green pasture for his donkey, or his young brood of goslings, or as a play- ground for his children ; close calculators of financial profit and loss, who would willingly barter m L L LU II Could these well-meaning but mistaken persons have their way, such a group as Collins here exhibits would soon have no “ Woodland Gate” to swing on, and the urchin who sits so royally and bravely on its topmost bar must find some other theatre for the display of his venturesome daring. This picture is one of the painter's most popular works, and one of his most felicitous compositions as a whole and in its details ; the expression of the two faces which front the spectator is very charming and perfectly natural ; while the attitudes of the other two principal figures are to the life. The child on the ground forms a kind of episode in the story ; it belongs to the corps dramatique, but is doing a little by-play irrespective of the other actors ; whether intentionally or accidentally it would be rather difficult to determine. UL 1 JUI THE INTERIOR OF THE CATHEDRAL AT BURGOS. C me URGOS, the capital of Old Castile, in Spain, is a city of great antiquity, and is said to owe its origin to the erection of six burgos, BA O W or hamlets, on the banks of the Arlanzon, by some settlers in the y e n reign of Alphonzo I., about the middle of the eighth century. It stands in the midst of a highly picturesque country, on the northern Be h igh road from Madrid (distant about 112 miles) to France, and was ' for a long period distinguished for its opulence and commercial industry; its fairs showing annually the vast extent of its manufactures, so that it o became the centre of all the trade carried on from the interior of Spain with pasient the various ports on the Bay of Biscay. During this time Burgos, alternately with Toledo, was the seat of royalty ; but when, in the beginning of the sixteenth century, Charles V. transferred his residence to Madrid, its prosperity began to decline, and in little less than a century, it became so impoverished and depopulated, that the number of its inhabitants decreased from upwards of forty thousand to about twelve thousand, leaving it little more than the honour, still recognised, of being the capital of Old Castile. Notwithstanding the decay of its power and influence, the city still retains many relics of its departed glory and grandeur. Though the palaces of the renowned warriors Fernan Gonzalez, first Count of Castile, and the Cid, have long since crumbled into dust, a triumphal arch marks the site where the former stood, and a handsome mausoleum, that of the latter, who might be called a native of the place, being born, as is generally supposed, at the Castle of Bivar, a short distance from Burgos. The adventures of this famed Castilian hero, in the wars of the Spanish and the Moors, have much of the character of romance; and almost to this day his name is a watchword among the peasantry of the provinces wherein his heroic deeds were wrought—deeds that have been celebrated in prose and verse, and, in fact, on which half the ancient ballads of the country were founded. "I have heard The mountain peasants, as they dress’d the vines, Or drove the goats, by rock and torrent, home, Singing their ancient songs; and these were all Of the Cid Campeador; and how his sword Tizona * cleared its way through turban'd hosts, And captur'd Afric's kings, and how he won Valencia from the Moors. * Tizona, the firebrand. The name of the Cid's favourite sword, taken in battle from the Moorish king Bucar. THE VERNON GALLERY. VIII ST Southey, in his “ Chronicles of the Cid,” gives a most interesting and animated account of the wonderful achievements of the Spanish hero, whose real name was Rodriga Diaz de Bivar, but whom the Moors of Spain, whom he subjugated, called the Cid, from the Arabic el Seid, which means “the Lord.” The above brief notice of this celebrated personage cannot be considered out of place here, inasmuch as his history is closely associated with the city where stands the magnificent. edifice, a portion of which is shown in the annexed: engraving. Besides the buildings. already referred to, Burgos contains others worthy of notice, as the “Hotel de Ville,” the Palace of Velazco. It possesses also several squares, of which one only is of any importance ; this stands in the centre of the city, and is surrounded by a piazza, supported by lofty pillars, over which are some tolerably handsome houses. The inhabitants have likewise a beautiful promenade, in the midst of extensive gardens, watered by numerous fountains. The principal approach to the city is by the gate of Santa Maria, which opens on one of the three bridges that cross the river Arlanzon. This gate was erected to commemorate the founders of the Castilian monarchy, and the distinguished men who contributed to its honour and prosperity, with whose statues: it is adorned ; among these are Fernan Gonzalez, the Cid, Charles V., and Diego Porcelos. But the most important building in Burgos is the cathedral ; a very fine and well-preserved specimen of Gothic architecture. According to some accounts it was commenced in 1221, by Ferdinand III., but was not finished till some centuries after. Milizia, in his “Lives of Celebrated Architects," calls Giovanni di Badajos its architect, who flourished about the beginning of the sixteenth century; and, inasmuch as it unquestionably belongs to the Florid Gothic style, which was scarcely in vogue till the middle of the fifteenth century, we must give Giovanni the honour of its erection, in so far, at least, as the exterior decorations are concerned. This church has, in front, two steeples with magnificently sculptured spires, and the octagonal chapel, called del Condestable, is the finest portion of its interior'; it is also embellished with columns, statues, and other ornaments of great beauty—especially at the entrances. Mr. Roberts's picture, here engraved, was painted from a sketch made on the spot in the autumn of 1832; it represents a singular and extraordinarily beautiful staircase leading into the north transept of the cathedral from the street immediately above it. To account for so unusual a construction, it is necessary to inform the reader that Burgos stands on the declivity of a hill, the summit of which was originally crowned by a castle, built, at the command of Alphonzo III., by Diego Porcelos, in 884 ; this castle is now in ruins. When, in process of time, the Moors receded gradually to the south of the city, the higher parts were abandoned for a lower position towards the plain, so that the street which is now. the highest was formerly the lowest in the place; and the cathedral is now so situated that the whole of the north flank of the edifice, more particularly the transept itself, is partially buried by the declivity of the hill, while that to the south is clear and overlooks the entire city. The communication by the northern side is, consequently, by this most singular staircase. The admirer of Gothic architecture might visit the greater number of European ecclesiastical 1 IT DU THE VERNON GALLERY. - - - -- - - U - - - - - _ _ _ _ edifices without finding anything so rich in decoration, and designed with such exquisite taste, as the subject here presented, every square yard of which possesses some feature of beauty. Let the eye travel from the lowest step of the staircase to the most elevated part of the work, it will discover, in every detail of the elaborate ornament, something to arrest its attention and gratify the sight; while the entire composition, if thus it may be called, forms a magnificent whole. The artist has treated his subject with consummate skill, arranging his lights so that they fall upon those portions of the building where they must of necessity be most effective, and where the most valuable points are brought out. The half-light falling across the picture does not proceed from the window seen to the right, but from another window which is not introduced into the plane of the picture. Had the painter adopted the former treatment, a greater body of light throughout the whole must have been exhibited by reflection, and the verful contrast now presented by the shadowed parts would be partially destroyed. The figures which give animation to the scene, are placed in those spots that seem to require their presence, by assisting to conceal the comparative bareness of the walls ; thereby enriching the entire composition, of which they appear to form a part, instead of being put in to fill up a vacant space. No artist knows better than Mr. Roberts the true value of such introductions, and how to dispose them to the best advantage ; his long practice as a painter of architecture from the finest examples which the continent of Europe and the cities and plains of the East can offer has given him this knowledge. It is the fashion of the day to speak disparagingly of the men of former generations, and to ridicule the “piety and wisdom of our ancestors” who erected such edifices as these to the worship of the Deity; we have no sympathy with such detractors, but think there were “ giants” in the times referred to, and that they used their power and their wealth to a great and holy purpose, whatever of evil became ultimately linked with it. Have succeeding ages done so much with far more extended means, and an enlarged experience gained from the examples they left behind, to advance the science of architecture, or to employ it to a higher end? W Burke spoke one night in the House of Commons on a motion for removing the bishops from their seats in the Upper House, he argued against the measure, declaring that in his opinion no position, short of a regal one, was too high for a minister of religion, who ought to be able to feel himself on a level with the noblest of his fellow-men, and to stand as erect in a palace as in the meanest cottage. It was, doubtless, similar sentiments which, in most cases, led to the foundation of the magnificent ecclesiastical edifices spread over the length and breadth of Europe ; it was the same feeling that reared the pagan temples of antiquity ;-a desire to pay due homage to the deities of the land. Hence arose the stately columns of Palmyra and Baalbec, the Tower of Belus at Babylon, the Parthenon of Athens, the great temples of Mexico, known to us only by their stupendous fragments, and the Roman and Gothic edifices of later times. We have often wondered to hear men of good sense and just principles object to the noble cathedral as an useless and unnecessary encumbrance on the land, administering to the pride and pomp of the priesthood, and suggesting thoughts and feelings at variance with the UVOD THE VERNON GALLERY. 1 II LUU TI NI I . . simple doctrines of Christianity. No such ideas as these dwelt on the mind of Washington Irving when visiting Westminster Abbey, who; as an American and a republican, cannot be supposed to have much sympathy with the ancient state and grandeur of the old world's glories, or with what should excite our veneration and regard. “The eye," he says, “ gazes with wonder at clustered columns of gigantic dimensions, with arches springing from them to such an amazing height; and man wandering about their bases, shrunk into insignificance in comparison with his own handy-work. The spaciousness and gloom of this vast edifice produce a profound and mysterious awe. We step cautiously and softly about, as if fearful of disturbing the hallowed silence of the tomb; while every foot-fall whispers along the walls, and chatters among the sepulchres, making us more sensible of the quiet we have interrupted. It seems as if the awful nature of the place presses down upon the soul, and hushes the beholder into noiseless reverence. And now the organ is winding up into full jubilee, it is rising from earth to heaven ; the very soul seems rapt away and floated upwards on the swelling tide of harmony." We confess to have a strong predilection in favour of these old cathedrals, and have passed very many hours in wandering amid their dim aisles and chilling cloisters ;-chilling, we mean corporeally, not mentally, for they supply abundant themes for meditation. There one may hold quiet converse with himself and the hidden things of the world, and bring back to remembrance the men and events of distant ages; for all are, more or less, peopled with the images of the illustrious dead, who once trod the mouldering floor, and worshipped at the “ altar of sacrifice." Here sleep the brave, in many a sculptur'd nook, · Half light, half shadow,—Valour's heritage; Their work is done, but Fame's immortal book Records their actions on its brightest page. Here rest the poet and the letter'd sage, Monarchs of genius, masters of the mind, - The daring statesman of a stormy age; The warm philanthropist, to frailty blind; The great, the wise, the good the glory of mankind. Who looks on such and finds no food for thought, Colder than marble is content to be; The silent figure, by the chisel wrought, Bears not a heart more, passionless than he: Call it reclusive, morbid pedantry, Musing to stand on consecrated ground ; He claims my pity, who, unmov'd, can see Time's fragments scattered in profusion round, And hear its distant knell, yet echo not the sound. - - - -- ------ - - THE TRUANT. : UU KA N E would venture to assert, without fear of contradiction, that there is no painter exhibiting annually at the Royal Academy whose pictures afford be a larger measure of hearty enjoyment than do those of Mr. Webster. They have in them so much genuine humour, such truthful touches of character and disposition, such a thorough knowledge of the “manners, customs, and habits” of the fraternity of juvenile mischief-mongers, idlers, and merry-makers, as cannot fail to convey the spectator at once into the midst of the scenes where these are busily occupied, and which the artist so carefully depicts. Dr. Johnson, in the preface to his edition of Shakspeare, says, “Imitations produce pain or pleasure, not because they are mistaken for realities, but because they bring realities to mind.” It is, doubtless, this feeling which has gone far to make the works of Mr. Webster so popular, for most of us, either from experience as actors in similar scenes, or as eye-witnesses of them, can enter into the spirit of the stories he relates. And then what subjects of retrospective reflection do many of them present to the mind burdened with the cares and anxieties of life, disquieted by a multitude of heart-corroding thoughts, or weary with the hollowness of worldly friendships ! how the recollection travels back through the highways and bye-ways of memory—chequered paths where the feet some- times stumbled, and sometimes were led through pleasant places,—to our early days, which, for the moment, live once more. We remember one day seeing a remarkably intelligent-looking, venerable man, stand for a considerable time before a picture—a frolic-feasting scene, by this painter; he was absorbed in deep meditation, evidently not on its merits as a work of Art, but on the sentiment of the subject, for he at length moved slowly away, and, as he passed us, a sad, heavy sigh escaped him, which brought to our mind the lines of poor Hood; perhaps, too, they had occurred to the old gentleman himself :- 61 “When that I was a tiny boy My days and nights were full of joy, My mates were blithe and kind ! No wonder that I sometimes sigh, And dash the tear-drop from my eye, To cast a look behind !" made --- ------ ---- ------ -- -- THE VERNON GALLERY. DID MO I - TUL - If Art be au instructor, then has Mr. Webster much to answer for, in the system of training the juvenile mind adopted at his “preparatory establishment.” How much lurking mischief has he called into action ? How many tricksters has not he educated ? How much of what our grandmothers would have termed “moral delinquency” has he not perpetuated; what precocious genius brought out ? Even in our own day, when the liberty of the subject is better understood than formerly, when the intellect of “ Young England” marches with free and rapid footsteps over the length and breadth of the land, and the opinion of every “ age and size” is authoritatively pronounced and respectfully deferred to ; “parents and guardians ” would scarcely submit the objects of their solicitude to his instructions ; schoolmasters and schoolmistresses would pugnaciously contend that his method of teaching is based on principles subversive of all law and order, dangerous to the peace of the community, and, worse than all, infectious to a degree. But let us do the artist the justice of examining the other side of the question, and see whether he does not "paint a moral when he adorns a tale." Is there no punishment for tho idle urchin before us, who has not only played truant himself, but enlisted his younger brother in the same buccaneering cause in which he has been engaged? Ay, they both know well, that though the village dame is taking her customary afternoon's nap, (in which, by the way, the cat on the threshold of the door keeps her company), there will be open war when she awakes. How self-convicted the culprit stands, meditating the chance of slipping into school while the mistress's eyes are still closed, in the hope, perhaps, that the comfortable feeling engendered by a few minutes' sleep may dispose her to a lenient regard of his misdoings. It may fairly be doubted whether the string of pearls, in the shape of a row of birds'-eggs upon a straw, acquired during the morning's ramble, is thought an adequate compensation for the disquietude he now suffers. Even the little fellow who is seated on the form eyes the transgressor with apprehension of the fate which awaits him, mingled with curiosity to see what success may have attended the day's adventure. Of the two other figures introduced into the picture, one little girl is reading to a drowsy and inattentive audience, the other appears occupied in threading her needle. Mr. Webster has told his story with much natural truth; the picture, though small, is a valuable one of its class. It was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1836, under the title of “Going to School ;” a companion picture, “Returning from School," was also exhibited the same year. TNY CATTLE.—EARLY MORNING. 31 YYI M IS + TE . ww YA W 110 1 TO III. WIND 1 ATTLE-PAINTING, in our school, has but few disciples, among whom, however, Mr. T. S. Cooper stands unquestionably at the head. He is, we believe, a native of Canterbury, and many of his earlier pictures are of farm-yards in the neighbourhood of that city, and of the pastures and banks which skirt the river Stour, on which it stands. But he has visited the North, and found amid its scenery, and the flocks which feed on the hill-sides, subjects of great beauty, and well adapted to his department of Art. The view here introduced is an example; it is a scene in the Fells of Cumberland. Rugged mountains many of these are, cheerless, and oftentimes difficult of access; yet over their tops and along their sides the Border-drovers, journeying towards the South, drive their flocks and herds, leaving the more regular and beaten roads to avoid the tolls; and when night comes, a place of rest is sought where the herbage is green and water abundant. Cattle of all kinds-sheep, cows, bulls, bullocks, and goats—may then be seen in groups, cropping the scanty herbage among the furze and heather, or huddled side by side, ruminating. Such a scene we have here, but the time of day under which it is represented is “ Early Morning ;” the grey mists are rolling along the lowlands as the sun mounts above the horizon; the animals themselves appear rousing up, for- - - - - SL “They come from their dwellings on hill and plain : -The fisher, to skim o'er the sun-girt main ; The shepherd, to wander with crook and flock; The huntsman, to waken the valley and rock: These cheerfully answer the young day's call, And roam o'er creation as lords of all." S The landscape-painter and the artist who seeks his subject away from the haunts of man realise enjoyments to which the recluse in his studio, whose only models are the dumb “lay figure ” and the things of still-life, is a stranger. If the latter follows a more elevated, imaginative, and ambitious path to fame, the former seeks the same object through the peaceful yet exhilarating scenes of Nature : he studies not the elements of human passion ; he holds not communion, either in thought or deed, with the jarring interests of mankind, past or present. The secrets of the heart, whether good or evil, it is not his to reveal, nor the DI VII THE VERNON GALLERY. motives which prompt to action his duty to delineate : neither with the tragedy, nor with the comedy, nor the cares of life, has he aught to do, nor need he enter where these abide. But he dives into the recesses of the forest, he climbs up the mountain-steep, he sits beside- “ Rivers, by whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals;" he studies the book which Nature unfolds before him, and finds in it things pleasant to the eye and healthful to the body. This, too, is read every day, and all day long ; for the true artist is no sluggard; he knows the value of every page in the volume, and peruses it accordingly, noting such passages as will afford him matter for future reference or guidance ; with what zest does he set out, with sketch-book in hand, on some such “ early morning” as we see in Mr. Cooper's picture, and in the full enjoyment of its beauties himself, inviting companionship from the luxurious and the indolent ! “Come from your chambers of pomp and pride To the rivulet's bank or the mountain's side ; Children of wealth, who know not the sense Of a summer morning's magnificence ! Come !—ere the dew-drop hath left the spray, Or the breath of the wild flowers died away! Ye may lie, like the monarch who wears a crown, On the richest and softest beds of down; Ye may people your vision with dreams of bliss, And fancy the warmth of the south wind's kiss; But ye see not the glory the Day-god brings, When he comes from the east on his golden wings.” And the pleasures thus accorded to the landscape-painter are not exhausted when, his sketch-book filled with “bits” and his portfolio with “scenes,” he returns to the quietude of his painting- room to work out his reminiscences through the dreary winter months ; for thought, and sight, and feeling are with the past, and wander again amid the beautiful, where his feet no longer tread. There may be dulness and dreariness without, yet sunshine and verdure are within, for the spirit of Nature dwells there like an “old familiar face," and he rejoices in the brightness of her presence. The picture here engraved (and it is impossible to speak too highly of Mr. Cousen's performance, which most completely realises the painter's conception) is one of the artist's more recent performances ; having been exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1847. The most prominent animal in the group is the ox standing in the centre of the composition ; this is a perfect study in itself, masterly in drawing, and equally so in execution as regards texture. The other portions of the work are not less deserving of praise. The tone of colour is much lower than we are generally accustomed to see from the same pencil ; a variation which many will scarcely consider an improvement. . CONSTABLERA. PAINTER J.C. BENTLEY ENGRAVER THE VALLEY FARM. FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY SUZE OF THE PICTURE LOWON TUBLISHED FOR US PROPRIETORS BY GEO, VISITER 25. TREND THE VALLEY FARM. . 10 SA Y ERHAPS it would be too much to assume that particular localities A l create the painter, although they undoubtedly engender a love of Art; yet it is somewhat singular that many of our best land- scape painters were born amid the most picturesque scenery of the country, and date their first feelings and desires towards the D practice of Art, from admiration of the natural beauties by which Role their early years were surrounded. “It was the scenes of my boy- N hood,” said John Constable, “ that made me a painter ;” and certainly if such an effect could have been produced by the simple operation of the outward forms of Nature upon the mind, and upon the hand which works the mind's bidding, the neighbourhood wherein Constable was born would, above all others, have accomplished it. We remember riding over from Ipswich a few years back to visit the artist's birthplace, and the various spots in its immediate vicinity (the “ Valley Farm ” among them), from which so many of his best pictures were taken ; “ the beauty of the scenery, its gentle declivities, its luxuriant meadow-flats, sprinkled with flocks and herds, its well cultivated uplands, its woods and rivers, with numerous scattered villages and churches, farms, and picturesque cottages, all impart to this delightful spot an amenity and elegance hardly anywhere else to be found.” Such is Constable's own description ; it is one to the truthfulness of which we can bear testimony. He was born on the 11th of June, 1776, at East Bergholt, in Suffolk, but on the confines of Essex, from which it is only separated by the river Stour. His father, a person of considerable property, held, among other possessions, several mills, and unwilling that his son should be reared in idleness, and strongly opposed to the professional career, that of an artist, which the disposition of the youth had marked out for himself, determined to make a miller of him, and accordingly placed him in one of his own mills, where, as Mr. Leslie informs us in his highly interesting " Memoirs ” of the artist, he worked “ carefully and well” for about a year, finding at times a relief from the monotony of his occupation in studying, to use his own expression, “ the natural history of the skies," and in watching the passing clouds : the application of what he then learned is abundantly seen in every one of his works. An introduction to Sir George Beaumont, whose mother resided at Dedham, was the means of fixing Constable's future IMA al 11 UU THE VERNON GALLERY. some profession, for in the year 1795 bis father consented to his visiting London for the purpose of ascertaining what might be his chance of success as a painter. Through Priscilla Wakefield he made the acquaintance of Farrington, who, with a prophet's eye, at once predicted not only his after-fame, but added that his style of landscape-painting would form a “ distinct feature in the Art.” But, notwithstanding that the path which Nature and talent had placed before him seemed straight and plain, he was not permitted to walk in it without another attempt o part of his parents to draw him aside ; for in October, 1797, his mother writes thus to his friend, “ Antiquity Smith," * as he was called : “ We are anticipating the satisfaction of seeing John at home in the course of a week or ten days, to which I look forward with the hope that he will attend to business, by which he will please his father, and ensure his own respectability and comfort.” A curious notion the good lady must have formed of respectability, to suppose that John Constable the miller would stand higher in the world's estimation than John Constable the artist, whose name is now enrolled among those in which his country takes pride, instead of its being, perchance, simply inscribed on some rustic headstone in the picturesque village of Bergholt,--the only tribute to his memory which would possibly have been paid had the parental wishes turned him from the pursuit he loved. Fortunately for his own fame, and for the honour of British Art, this was not permitted, for on the 4th of February, 1799, he writes thus to his friend : “I am this day admitted a student at the Royal Academy; the figure which I drew for admittance was the Torso." There he laboured diligently for a considerable time, occasionally paying a visit to his native place and its environs, and likewise, it would appear, into Derbyshire, filling his sketch-books with studies which served him well in his future practice. In 1802 his name first appears in the catalogue of the Academy exhibition, appended to a “ Landscape," the only title of the picture. There was little among the works of Constable's contemporaries at this time of such a nature as to excite his envy, or to create a desire to imitate them—a fault in which most young artists of our day are apt to indulge ; he copied, but it was not for the purpose of imitating a style ; “I find it necessary," he writes, “ to fag at copying some time yet to acquire execution—" there was nothing he saw around him worth looking up to, but ample room for a natural painter- “the great vice of the present day is bravura, an attempt to do something beyond the truth." No neglect of his talent, no disappointed hopes, could induce him to follow in the beaten track, for he felt, with the instinct of true genius, that at some time or other his powers would be acknowledged and rewarded, and that ultimately he should make pictures which would be valuable to posterity, though he might not reap the benefit of them. Yet he passed many a long and weari- some year ere this object was attained, exhibiting constantly at the Academy and at the British Institution, without patronage or even the voice of public approval. Among the works painted during this period, were two or three portraits, and two sacred historical pictures, for churches VIA VO * Mr. J. T. Smith, the engraver and antiquarian, author of the “Life of Nollekens." THE VERNON GALLERY. in Suffolk ; the former gave so much satisfaction as to induce a wish on the part of his family that he would continue to practise portraiture, for in November, 1812, his mother writes th him : "Fortune seems now to place the ball at your foot, and I trust you will not kick it from you; you now so greatly excel in portraits, that I hope you will pursue a path the most likely to bring you fame and wealth.” The advice, however, was disregarded ; he pursued his own course, and sacrificed present profit to future renown. The year 1814 opened up to Constable with brighter prospects, for he sold a small picture from the British Institution to Mr. Allnutt, and a large one, “ The Lock," to Mr. James Carpenter, the eminent bookseller of Bond Street, and a judicious and literal patron of British Art: this is now in the possession of his son, Mr. W. Carpenter, keeper of the prints in the British Museum. It would occupy too much of our time to enumerate the works painted and exhibited from this time till the year 1819, when there appeared the largest and most important landscape picture he had yet produced, “ A scene on the river Stour ;” which in November of that year, gained him the rank of Associate of the Academy. In 1829, he was elected Academician. His reputation was now established as the very first of our painters of landscape, and had extended to Paris and Germany : some of his pictures had been bought by a Frenchman, and exhibited at the Louvre in 1825, where they created extraordinary attention, and were rewarded with a gold medal from the reigning monarch. From this period, till the time of his death in 1837, he worked almost unremittingly; the principal fruits of his labours were seen in a “Dell in Helming- ham Park,” exhibited in 1830 ; “Salisbury Cathedral from the Meadows,” 1831 ; and the “ Valley Farm,” 1835 : this may be called the last of his great works. On the 8th of April, he writes thus concerning it :—“I have got my picture into a very beautiful state ; I have kept my brightness without my spottiness, and have preserved God Almighty's daylight, which is enjoyed by all mankind, excepting only the lovers of old dirty canvas, perished pictures at a thousand zuineas each, cart-grease, tar, and snuff of candle. Mr. — -, an admirer of common-place, called to see it, and did not like it at all, so I am sure there is something good in it. Soon after, Mr. Vernon called, and bought it, having never seen it before in any state.” The picture was exhibited the same year at the Academy, but was not sent to Mr. Vernon till some time after, for in a letter, dated December 9th, to Mr. Leslie, R.A., (his biographer, to whose valuable work we are indebted for much of the information here given), we find the following remark, which shows how intent Constable was on making it worthy of his great name : “Mr. Vernon's picture is not yet gone to him ; he wants it, but it never was half so good before, and I will do as I like with it, for I have still a greater interest in it than any body else.” The “Valley Farm” is a view of a little farm-house known as “Willy Scott's House;" it is situated on the bank of the river close to Flatford Mill, the property of the artist's father, near East Bergholt. It is a principal object in many of Constable's pictures, the most exact view of it occurring in that engraved in the English landscape under the title of a “ Mill Stream," but it has never been more picturesquely rendered than in the view here engraved. The composition of this work is admirable, and it is distinguished by that peculiar, LU TY m onnaie THE VERNON GALLERY. yet most truthful treatment apparent in most of his productions. The sky presents to us one of those bright but fickle summer days, when at noon large garish clouds surcharged with rain, sweep with their broad shadows, fields, woods and hills, and by their depths enhance the value of the vivid colours so peculiar to the season. How gracefully that noble group of trees to the right bends its branches to the breeze, which stirs the water into a gentle ripple, and gives animation to the whole scene; it would be difficult to point out a single feature in the work which is not of real substantial value to it, and wherein it would not have suffered by an omission. In this lies the secret of excellence in Art, to know not only where to begin, but also where to stop ; many artists see too much ; as great a misfortune, sometimes, as not seeing enough. The great charm of Constable's pictures is their close adherence to Nature ; she was his presiding deity. The dogmas and restrictions of styles and schools he totally disregarded : the materials of which his works are made up are of the commonest description,-shady lanes, quiet nooks, a rustic cottage, a barge, a meadow skirted by some sedgy stream, with the introduction of a few figures, were all he needed for his Art; and bright gems they became in the hands of such a workman. The critics of his day, wedded to styles and systems, marvelled at the daring of one who set both at defiance, and wisely refrained from animadverting upon what perhaps they could not understand while they tacitly admired. Bannister, the comedian, said, "he felt the wind blow in his face” while looking at Constable's pictures ; and Fuseli declared they made him “call for his umbrella :" noble testimonies these to their fidelity, not even surpassed by that of the French critic, who said that “the dew of the morning was found upon the leaves and the grass." He has sometimes been accused of mannerism, but his manner was his own; and he always could give a reason for what he did. This charge was made chiefly on account of the spotty appearance which his pictures presented. To an observation once directed to him upon this point, he answered, “I am painting for the generation to come;" the truth of the reply, and the motive he had in doing that which was considered a blemish, are now apparent; time has softened down all these seeming crudities, so as to make them valuable as brightnesses, while harmonising with the whole tone of the picture. Injustice would be done to Mr. Bentley were no reference made to his engraving; it is, unquestionably, the best we have ever seen from him; indeed, it may fairly be doubted whether any modern landscape comes nearer to perfection or more faithfully translates the original. Constable’s management of light and shadow renders his pictures peculiarly adapted for the engraver, as may be seen in those masterly mezzotinto prints after him by Mr. Lucas, as well as in that here given. dll . R. STAINES ENGRAVER. Wir • D.MACLISERA PAINTER MALVOLIO FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY SIE OF SCOTT 4 PTLIN. BY 2F SIN TONBON JUBLISHED FOR THE PROPRIETORS MALVOLIO. : V T is no easy or common task which the artist undertakes who V essays to paint from Shakspeare. To grapple successfully with NOVA S the conceptions of his genius,—to reflect back, as it were, the y pictures of a painter whose Art embraced the whole range of human action and passion, and whose knowledge of character was equalled only by his ability to describe it, however elevated or degraded,—to give form and feature, mind, and heart, even to the most insignificant among the crowd of names that his pen has immor- talised, -requires powers scarcely less lofty than his own—a knowledge of human nature as profound—the skill to set it forth as pre-eminent. And yet, notwithstanding these requisite essentials in the artist, we may go through the whole range of Shakspeare's characters, without finding one that has not, at some time, or other, been the subject of the painter's study ; tragic and comic, fact and fiction, the renowned of history, and the impersonation of the poet's you fancy, have all found a place on the canvas, from the hand of every artist who has essayed the higher. walks of Art. But how rarely has successful performance followed the will ; how many the instances of failure, how few those of achievement. The persone of the great dramatist often pass in review before us, arrayed in glowing colours, and bearing on their brows “The round and top of royalty,” but they are not, generally, the characters which Shakspeare drew: they shine not in the glory with which he irradiated them. The faculty which discerns the beauties of an author is not the same in us all; we admire not so much that which we best comprehend, as that which most assimilates with our tastes and inclinations. The lover of nature, either in her grandeur or her simplicity, feels little interest in the exciting description of the “pomp and circumstance of war;" nor will the hot and impassioned spirit, eager for action, discover anything but dulness in the most graceful writing which is deficient in some stirring theme. It has been remarked that an actor, to play his part faithfully, and to the life, should possess in some degree, such a temper and such THE VERNON GALLERY. 1 NI no III feelings as formed the mainspring of action in the original whom he personates. If this be a just observation, it is equally necessary that the painter who would paint to the life should be endowed with similar qualities. But it is a questionable doctrine : an artist may place before us a Nero, a Caligula, or a Richard III., in all their hideous deformity, and yet be himself the most gentle and amiable of men ; or he may be able to endow his subject with the purest and holiest sentiments, while, in his heart, he “ cares for none of these things.” We know, from our acquaintance with the lives of the ancient masters, that some among them, the most eminent in their practice of sacred Art, had in themselves, none of those qualities of heart- none of that religious feeling, which their works exhibit; while of others, we read that their pictures only too well reflected their own habits and cast of thought. The argument then, to use an ordinary expression, “cuts both ways," and proves nothing. One fact is, however, beyond dispute, no artist ever painted well what he could not see with his “mind's eye,"—if he did not feel it in his heart ; just as an able advocate, by his shrewdness and eloquence, may convince a jury of the innocence of his client, while he himself is cognisant of his guilt. In the commencement of this notice we remarked that it is no easy task to paint after Shakspeare, Mr. Maclise is one of the very few artists, past or present, whose pencil has realised, to our satisfaction, the conceptions of the great dramatist. The history of Mr. Maclise's career is thus given in the volume of the Art-Journal, for the year 1847, and is from the pen of the Editor of that popular publication. We cannot do better than transcribe it here : “In the year 1820, it was our fortune to reside in Cork. Entering, one day, the hall of the Society of Arts, whose few models had been augmented by a gift from George IV., we noticed a handsome and intelligent-looking boy drawing from one of the casts; we conversed with him, noticed his copy, and observed, “My little friend, if you work hard and think, you will be a great man one of these days.' In the year 1828, when this child had become almost a mran, we encountered him in London, with a portfolio under his arm ; he had become an artist, and was drawing portraits for any one who sought his aid, and at such prices as content young men distrustful of their own powers, and who have merely dreamed of fame. Twenty-six years after our meeting with Daniel Maclise, it is our lot to render homage to his genius ; to class him among the foremost painters of the age, and to register the fulfilment of our own prophecy of a quarter of a century ago. "Daniel Maclise was born in Cork, on the 25th of January, 1811; he is, however, of Scottish descent, his grandfather, Daniel Maclise, being a veritable Highlander,-one of three brothers, mill-owners, living near Callender, in Perthshire. He joined the famous Highland Watch, and afterwards the 42nd Regiment, with which he served in Flanders, and was wounded at Fontenoy, fighting with the Duke of Cumberland, while his brothers were serving at home with 'Prince Charley, His son, the father of Maclise,-also Scottish born,--had an ensigncy in the Elgin Fencibles, and went with his regiment into Ireland, in 1798; while quartered in Cork, he married into the CLEAR family,—eminent merchants in that city,— retired from the army, and entered into a business new to him ; as may be expected, his we DUEL [ 0 THE VERNON GALLERY. OV D avocations were unpropitious. It has been the high privilege of Daniel Maclise, by genius, industry, and principles honourable to his heart as well as to his mind, to restore the fallen fortunes of his family. “Soon after his arrival in London, he became a student of the Royal Academy ; labouring with wonderful industry, zeal, and perseverance during his course of study, he received all the medals, including the gold medal, for which he competed, receiving from Sir Thomas Lawrence the last medal he bestowed, and from the now president, Sir M. A. Shee, the first he awarded. “In 1833, Maclise exhibited his first picture, ‘Mokanna unveiling her features to Zelica," at the British Institution; and it was somewhat singular, that on the day it was received, the late Mr. Seguin, (then keeper of the Gallery), called upon us, to ask if we had any knowledge of a young artist of that name, who had sent in a work of wonderful merit. From the day of the private view, the fame of Maclise became established : he “painted faces' no longer. In 1835, the Royal Academy elected him an Associate, on his exhibiting "The Vow of the Peacock ;' and in 1841, he was promoted to full academic honours,-honours of which no artist of our age has been more worthy." In the same year in which his first picture appeared at the British Institution, he exhibited at the Royal Academy, “Snap-apple Night, or All-Hallow Eve, in Ireland,” a work that excited great and deserved attention, and has been engraved. In 1834 appeared, “The Installation of Captain Rock,” another Irish subject having reference to the then political state of the country. In the following year he exhibited the “ Vow of the Peacock,” an incident of ancient chivalry. His next great pictures were the fine work of “Macbeth and the Weird Sisters," —Macready as Macbeth ; and the “ Interview between Charles I. and Oliver Cromwell.” In 1837, he exhibited seven pictures, but none of them very important in subject, being single figures chiefly, with the exception of one powerful work, “ Bohemian Gypsies ;” and in 1838, five pictures, “Salvator Rosa painting his friend Masaniello,” “ Olivia and Sophia fitting out Moses for the Fair," from the “Vicar of Wakefield ;” and “Merry Christmas in the Baron's Hall :" the others of minor note. In 1839, a “Scene from the Burletta of Midas,” a “Scene from Gil Blas,” “ Robin Hood entertaining Richard I. in Sherwood Forest,” and a “Portrait.” For the exhibition of the year 1840, he painted the “ Banquet Scene from Macbeth,” another “Scene from Gil Blas,” “Malvolio," the picture here engraved, and a “Portrait of Charles Dickens.” The year 1841 brought out one of his most gorgeous productions, “The Sleeping Beauty;" “Hunt the Slipper," from the “ Vicar of Wakefield," and a “ Hindoo Lady;" and 1842, his “Hamlet,” also in the Vernon Collection, the “ Return of the Knight," and the “ Origin of the Harp.” In 1843, his only work of note was, the “ Actor's Reception of the Author ;" and in the succeeding exhibition, a “Scene from Comus,” and a “Scene from Undine.” The year 1845, was a blank so far as the Royal Academy was concerned, Mr. Maclise being then at work for the exhibition at Westminster Hall ; and the year 1846 saw only one production, but it was an exceedingly fine one, the “Ordeal by Touch." His large picture in 1847, was “ Noah's - - ------------- - ------ --- - -- THE VERNON GALLERY. Sacrifice," and that for 1848, “ Chivalry of the time of Henry VIII.” The whole of the works here enumerated, were exhibited at the Royal Academy. When, in 1844, the frescoes and statues were exhibited in Westminster Hall, with reference to the decorations of the new Houses of Parliament, Mr. Maclise sent in a fresco, “ The Knight,” which led to his being selected by the commissioners to execute a cartoon, the subject of which was, “The Spirit of Chivalry.” The fresco from this cartoon has recently been painted by the artist in the House of Lords, and he has also received a commission to execute, as a companion to it, “ The Spirit of Justice.” The picture forming the subject of the engraving here introduced, was exhibited in 1840 ; and, though not a large work, it is painted in Mr. Maclise's best style. It is taken from the third act of “Twelfth Night;" the scene lies in Olivia's garden, where she and her attendant, Maria, are awaiting an interview with the lady's steward, Malvolio. Oli. Where is Malvolio ? Mar. He's coming, madam; But in strange manner. He is sure possessed. Oli. Why, what's the matter! Does he rave ? Mar. No, madam, He does nothing but smile : your ladyship Were best have guard about you, if he come; For, sure, the man is tainted in his wits. Oli. Go call him hither.-I’m as mad as he, If sad and merry madness equal be. Enter MALVOLIO. How now, Malvolio ? Mal. Sweet lady, ho, ho! [Smiles fantastically. Oli. God comfort thee! why dost thou smile so, And kiss thy hand so oft ? Malvolio here presents himself before his mistress in his yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, a colour she abhors, and a fashion she detests. The vanity and self-sufficiency of the would-be suitor are admirably expressed in his ridiculous assumption of the air and manners of the gentleman ; nor are the relative positions of the other characters, and the feelings which animate them respectively, less forcibly rendered—the half angry, half-amused countenance of the lady, and the thorough enjoyment with which the maid contemplates a scene that she has been the chief instrument in producing. ULIIII mense سسسسسسسسسسسسسسسسسسسسسسسسستمنسشسسسسلمنعسسسنيننلمنننيسشمطسنننمننممنتننت THE PRAWN FISHERS. . . AN . . . : w we 1 Latin N the nomenclature of British Art for nearly forty years past, Collins and rural life have been synonymous terms; not that his pencil was exclusively devoted to the representation of rustic customs and manners, but because his inclinations tended most strongly that way, and his more popular pictures, if not his best, are made up of such matter. From a very early period he showed an enthusiastic love of Nature in her simplest yet most attractive aspects ; though, being born in London, he had, for many years, few opportunities of enjoying what he so ardently admired. His inspira- tions were derived from his parents, one of whom, his father, was a native of Wicklow, a county than which none in green Ireland is more celebrated for its picturesque beauties; and these were a favourite theme of discourse round the domestic fireside. Thus there grew up in the mind of the future painter seeds of knowledge associated with the pursuit of his after-life, that in due time yielded abundant profit and honour. Apart from the natural beauties which are scattered so profusely over the face of our country, there is much in the occupations and amusements of our peasantry, and more especially of their children, to call the artist into their society; and the popularity of such subjects with us is an additional inducement for him to answer the appeal. The whole existence of a young rustic is linked with verdant fields, and broad shadowing trees, and sedgy ponds, and clear streams, and the quiet hamlet, and (as in the picture before us), the “sands upon the sea-shore.” Who can think of these things and deny the superiority of his lot—even with all its poverty--to those “cribbed and confined” in pent-up cities or overgrown towns, where the Industrial Arts flourish? What painter would ever think of selecting for a picture a group of factory children, or the tenants of some crowded court or alley, except for the purpose of exciting commiseration, or to show how much of squalor and wretchedness thousands of our fellow-creatures are doomed to endure? Who could gaze on such a picture with other feelings than those of distress, or without uttering a wish that each and all of them were permitted to taste the breath of heaven "pure and undefiled.” 1. in Q THE VERNON GALLERY. M It was not among such as these that Collins studied and chose his models-not amid the ranks of those who are jostling each other along the highways of life, in the spirit of a sturdy scorn of the unseen beauties of earth, but yet perhaps with a secret desire that some portion of its sweets were within their grasp-such sweets as they have heard or may have read of, or instinct may have taught them—as a blind man fancies he sees what his eyes have ever been closed against—that the painter wooed and won his laurels; but among the frequenters of green lanes and hedges, the loiterers at cottage-doors, the ruddy, half-clad, amphibious urchins, who pass the live-long day in watching the ebb and flow of the tide, to catch what the receding waves may have left behind them. Of this latter class is the “Prawn Fishers”-a most charming coast view, somewhat flat, but agreeably relieved of its monotony by an infinite diversity of light and shade. The “ Fishers," who are evidently training for a wider and more hazardous field, or rather sea, of operations, are pursuing their pastime in a deep pool, in what seems to be a small bay, for the water extends some distance beyond the bits of rock on which they are standing. In the middle distance, backed by lofty cliffs, appears the fishing hamlet, and to the right of the picture the sea stretches along quietly and by gradual tints till it meets the horizon. There is perfect repose throughout the whole of the picture, both in subject and treatment. We know not where the scene lies, but we should think it had been sketched somewhere on the Norfolk or Suffolk coasts, with which Collins was well acquainted. The work was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1831, and was purchased by Mr. Vernon at the sale of the late Sir Francis Freeling's Collection. Subjects of this kind have of late years been especial favourites with many of our artists ; but we have never seen them composed with so much distinguishing character and sweetness as we find here. . 1 - - YOUTH AND PLEASURE. apie w 02 w pore . M en F the mythology of the ancients contains much which, to our plain is understanding and reasoning faculties, appears absurd and unnatural, it certainly presents us with much that is pure in sentiment and poetical in idea. Human passions and feelings are, and have been, everywhere alike, though the development of them varies in manner, according to the education the mind has received, and in proportion to the restraint which this education, united with our judgment and our moral sense, enables us to command. While, therefore, we, who live under Ha a clearer light than did the men of the old world, are not likely to fall into their errors, nor to consider as truths what we know to be fictions, we may yet study their writings and find in them lessons of wisdom. The fountains they opened up were of the earth, but were often gilded with the sunbeams of heaven. To the rational and reflective mind “no thought is beautiful which is not just, and no thought can be just which is not founded on truth, or, at least, in that which passes for truth.” This sentiment must ever operate on the mind in the contemplation of any work of Art either purely ideal or borrowed from ancient heathen authors, so that we may estimate it as something analogous to our own perception. Hence, whenever we examine a picture of the class here referred to, we become either interested in it, or feel indifferent, according to the impression of truth we receive from it. The utmost amount of artistic skill which such a work may exhibit cannot compensate for the absence of what should be ever considered as the fundamental principle of beauty. Mr. Etty's mythological and allegorical pictures are exquisite and truthful conceptions ; generally selected from such passages as convey a wholesome moral. His “Youth and Pleasure” must be classed among the latter. It was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1832; there was no title appended to it, but the following quotation from the poet Gray aptly described the subject. n _- In O __ _ “Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm, In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes, Youth at the prow, and Pleasure at the helm, Unmindful of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey." The composition of this magnificent work is equal to anything we ever saw; it is full of poetry of the loftiest order, to which, it will be seen on a close and careful examination, every - .- - : - - THE VERNON GALLERY. figure furnishes an idea. The centre one of the group appears most eager in the pursuit of enjoyment; she is striving to catch a bubble that the boy behind has just launched into the air. “ Youth” and “Pleasure," ostensibly the pilots of the bark, occupied with other matters, and heedless of the course they pursue, allow it to drive where it will : the figures sporting in the stream or following in the wake of the vessel, would fain participate in the delights of the joyous crew, even at a distance ; one especially appears to be supplicating for admission to the already overladen bark, allured by the magic of its beauty, and the merry voices of its occupants. Perched on one end of the spar to which the sail is fixed, are two doves, emblems of that simplicity and innocence to which a striking contrast is seen below. Above the dark mass of clouds that portend the coming storm, is seen a winged figure attentively watching the progress of the vessel, and whose mission is probably connected with its future fate. “Onward she glides, amid ripple and spray, Over the waters—away, and away! Bright as the visions of youth, ere they part, Passing away like a dream of the heart ! * “ 'Tis thus with our life, while it passes along, Like a vessel at sea, amid sunshine and song; Gaily she glides in the gaze of the world, With streamers afloat, and with canvas unfurl'd; All gladness and glory to wondering eyes, Yet charter'd by sorrow, and freighted with sighs ; Fading and false is the aspect it wears, As the smiles we put on, just to cover our tears ; While the vessel drives on to that desolate shore, Where the dreams of our childhood are vanished and o'er.” No finer moral can be drawn from the sentiment of this picture, than the lines here quoted from Mr. T. K. Hervey’s graceful poem of “ The Convict Ship.” If the conception of Mr. Etty's work be entitled to unqualified praise for originality and power, its execution is equally deserving of commendation. In brilliancy and harmony of colouring, transparency, and delicacy of touch, he has never surpassed it; it will long rank as one of the enduring glories of his pencil.* * In a letter addressed to Mr. C. W. Wass, the well-known engraver of several pictures by Mr. Etty, the artist thus states his own idea of the subject he has here illustrated:"The view I took of it is a general allegory of Human Life, morally, where what we see here portrayed in its fabulous sense, is often real. How like the joys, the hopes, the buoyancy of youth, when all above is sunshine, and all beneath is flowers. They snatch at the bubbles of pleasure, of amusement and of promised happiness; delighted with the chace and pursuit, till the roar of the whirlwind of distress, and misery, and death, awakens them from their pleasant dreams and sweeps them to the general doom-'the Valley of the Shadow of Death.' The imaginary 'Being of the Whirlwind' is shadowed forth in the dark cloud above, which takes something of the shape of the figure 'If shape it might be called, which shape had none;' making a general allegory on human life,-its empty, vain pleasures,--if not founded on the laws and promises of Him who is the Rock of Ages." THE WAY TO CHURCH. BY THE REV. HENRY THOMPSON. [The beauty of this exquisite little picture causes regret that no other from the same hand is to be found in the Vernon Gallery. Mr. Creswick is an ardent admirer, and a faithful painter, of genuine English scenery ; he gives us here as charming a bit of nature as can be conceived; the village maiden and the distant church are valuable points in the composition, and suggest the title. There is a slight deviation from the original in the engraving, which, however, adds much to its beauty; the artist, when he touched the proof, placed a spire on the tower of the church, to make it a rather more prominent feature.] 2 . . T is a pleasant sight and fair, The woodland boughs at play, While breathe on the rėjóicing air . The beanfield and the hay ; And up the dell the silvery bell : : Teaches the churchward way. : IN 1 JU VI . And, tinkling low ʼmid brier-clad stones, The rippling runnel near ' in: Blends with those far soft undertones PY Shadow and beam course o'er the streamı Like Hope at sport with Fear. Peace, Beauty, Blessedness, repose In that rich verdurous shade, Which the tall linden barrier throws O’er half the lawny glade : Lightsome the while to cross the stile Steps forth a cottage maid. She hath been loitering by the lane, Her hat with flowers to dight; Her mother now and sisters twain She seeks with eager sight : In haste she is—she would not miss One word of holy Rite. THE VERNON GALLERY. · A simple band ! yet not untaught; Creation's volume fair,- His Word, who all its wonders wrought, The Book of England's prayer,-- These are their lore. What need they more?. Truth, comfort, heaven are there. O England ! while the nations toss Like weeds on Adria's wave, Cling to thy Church, that lifts the Cross To stay, to heal, to save ; That trains thy youth in right and truth, And faith that spurns the grave! Thine oaken hearts, thine iron hands, Thy billowy rampart-wall, Thy tribute stores from thousand lands, These would but tempt thy fall, Lived not a Power in yon low tower To shield and prosper all. UL The quickening Wave, the shadowing Hand, The living Food of life, The Word of pardon and command, Prayer's all victorious strife, These, kept by thee, shall keep thee free, While licence round is rife. Home of my home ! of kindred, friends, Of all that love holds dear! The prayer that for thy weal ascends Mounts confident and clear : “Bless, Lord, with grace our dwelling-place, For Thou too dwellest here." RECTORY, WRINGTON, August 7th, 1849. THE FIRST EARRING. www .11 18 HEN the British school of painting was deprived of Wilkie it lost one who had created for himself a place in its Art-annals which none he r had heretofore occupied, and which, hitherto, none have succeeded 7 in filling. The circumstances of his death-so sudden and unex- pected-so painful and yet so touching, caused as much sincere O heartfelt regret for the man, as did his loss to the Arts in those who A . grieved only for the artist; and how many, many thousands were there to Habe numbered among these! Who, in whatever sequestered nook of our island he 28 may have lived, had not heard of Wilkie, had not sighed over his “ Distraining for 45 Rent,” nor argued with his “Village Politicians," nor played at “Blind Man's Buff” Pop with him, nor joined in the merriment of his “ Village Festival” and his “Blind Fiddler ?” Wilkie was, in fact, the painter for the multitude, by which is meant, not the classes alone who admire without understanding, but those also whos by their knowledge of what is excellent in Art. It is no very difficult task to achieve popularity with the ignorant and untaught; but to unite these and men of taste and judgment in one common bond of pleasurable feeling is the prerogative of a mind possessed by few indeed, whether painter, poet, or man of letters. Yet Wilkie effected this in no ordinary degree, and far beyond what any painter had been able to do prior to his appearing before the public. .' . It is sometimes curious to observe the sources from which the current of a young artist's ideas is turned into a particular channel. Men who have produced the greatest works of Art have not been men of superficial minds, nor of frivolous pursuits, how much soever of frivolity may appear in their productions. They who regard them in this light are accustomed to. look at the surface only, where they discover nothing beyond the exhibition of ordinary and commonplace subjects, utterly ignorant that to produce these faithfully and truly the painter must have a deep knowledge of the human heart, as well as keen observation, and the power of expressing what the eye sees in such manner that others may see and understand also.' Wilkie, when young, was always on the look-out for character, and, for this purpose, frequently attended country fêtes, fairs, and market-places, in the hope of meeting with some odd fellow or other to use for a model. The result was, according to the statement of his fellow-student, Mr. John Burnet, the celebrated engraver, that though “in that sort of drawing in which taste and n THE VERNON GALLERY. sal LU OU knowledge are united, he was far behind others who, without a tittle of his talent, stood in the same class; yet, from the first, he surpassed all his companions in comprehending the character of whatever he was set to draw.” It is this exhibition of character which constitutes Wilkie's chief excellence, and makes his works not mere matters of amusement only, but books wherein the philosophy of human nature may be deeply studied, and its moralities faithfully learned. When his first picture, the “ Village Politicians,” was hung on the walls of the Royal Academy, men at a glance saw that a new light was about to shine on the Arts of the country which would enlighten and instruct their own generation, and those who should come after them. This picture may be adduced as an example of the truth of the remarks we have made, that what is usually termed “high Art” is not essentially necessary to the end at which every artist ought to aim : though only a representation of an English rustic scene, witnessed some time or other in every village and hamlet of the kingdom, it is so comprehensive in design, and embodies so much variety of character and expression, that one marvels at the amount of incident which it illustrates, as well as the clear perception of nature evinced by the artist in the actions and features of those whom he has brought before the spectator : the range of characters in this work is of great extent, and there is not a single figure introduced which does not abound in the most appropriate individuality and expression ; it touches every feeling and passion of our nature, from the extreme of merriment to the exhibition of the grave and pathetic. The former is seen in the half-intoxicated husband, so happy with his jovial companions ; and the latter in the wife entreating, but vainly, for him to withdraw from the scene of exciting temptation ; and still more in the old woman who seeks out her son, only to find him in a state of insensibility from over-indulgence. This is a group which forms a severe moral to the entire story, indicating that amidst the scenes of revelry and enjoyment there are to be found aching hearts and weeping eyes. Wilkie received, at first, but little encouragement from his older brother artists to pursue the course which his young fancy had marked out for him; and had he followed the advice of some, or allowed the sneers of others to have operated as a check upon him, the world of Art would probably have been deprived of that new light which now beamed upon it; those who were wedded to styles wherein the severity of the Greek schools, or the equally classic, but more discursive, systems of the Italian, are conspicuous, felt little inclined to award their meed of praise to one who acknowledged neither, but sought out his subject amid the every-day realities of life, as existing around him, rather than in its sentimental poetry, or in the facts and fictions of the past. His “Village Politicians ” was a thing quite new to the English painters of the time, and although the works of Hogarth, in some degree analogous to it, must have been familiar to most of them, and had received that high commendation to which they were unques- tionably entitled, the same note of triumph was not permitted to cheer the heart of the young Scotch artist. When Fuseli met him, after seeing the picture, he said: “Young man, this is a dangerous work; that picture will either prove the most happy or the most unfortunate work of your life ;" and Northcote designated it “ the pauper style." Yet without desiring to utter a LUI 1 . THE VERNON GALLERY. WUU word of disparagement against either of those highly accomplished artists, it must be admitted that Wilkie's fame has extended farther than theirs, and will long outlive them both. It is customary to compare Wilkie with Ostade, Teniers, Terburg, and other Dutch and Flemish painters who practised their styles, but excepting a similarity in the class of subjects represented, the parallel by no means holds good. Neither in manner of execution, nor in colouring, can any resemblance be traced in his works, to those whom, it has been said, he imitated ; moreover, they show entire absence from the vulgarities which so greatly disfigure the productions of the schools referred to. That his taste may have been fostered by studying them is highly probable, especially if we believe a statement which has obtained some credit, that he was for some time employed by a picture-dealer in making copies of such works for the market. “A mind like his,” writes a critic on the pictures of Wilkie, “ constantly nor ULL continually passing through the hands of his employers, received a happy impression, that must have operated as a powerful stimulant towards fixing his predilection for the dramatic and familiar style of Art. To this and the strength of his innate genius must be attributed the entire freedom in his paintings from the least tincture of mannerism or imitation of any school or particular master.” We claim for our own countryman a higher tribute than should be awarded to the old masters whose names are here referred to, not because he exhibited greater, ore reu had a higher purpose in view ; his delineation of nature, however lowly-born, was infinitely more refined, and the gratification elicited by the study of his works, of a purer character, and therefore less evanescent. His humour is hearty and genuine, but never rudely boisterous ; the frequenters of his ale-houses are not habitual topers, nor his rustics vulgar clowns and hoyden maidens, nor is his mirth exaggerated to heighten its effect. From the various groups whom he brings together at the village “hostel,” or introduces to us in the wayside cottage, we learn that human nature in her best affections and her most winning character can maintain her supremacy there, as among the more favoured children of fortune. An examination of the works which Wilkie painted after his return from visiting Italy and the East, justifies the remark that neither his own fame nor the Arts of his country suffered by having a new and wide field of observation opened before him. It is true there were many whose taste had become so thoroughly and entirely wedded to his old familiar style, that they could discern no beauty in that he now adopted. But the two differ so widely in every way, that to institute a comparison between them would be folly, while to each may be fairly awarded its share of undoubted excellence, though we can readily believe that his first style must ever be the most popular, inasmuch as, from its very nature, every one could comprehend it. Yet, if we lost the painter of domestic life we gained one whose power of depicting incidents of a higher order and more exciting interest is seen in the “Repulse at Saragossa,” the “Guerilla Chief departing for Battle," and far above even these, in “ John Knox preaching before Queen Mary.” It was not merely that he had altogether changed his class of UUU 11 as THE VERNON GALLERY. U subject, but his manner was as entirely reversed ; instead of the subdued tones, careful finish, and precise drawing of his early works, we find in those, broad and strong light and shadow, free, vigorous handling, and rich powerful colouring of scenes wherein energy of character and intensity of feeling are predominant. Wilkie appears to have followed, in these pictures, the Spanish School, yet without a servile imitation of any particular master; indications of the same may likewise be discerned in the portraits he painted at this period of his career, which were perhaps the less appreciated, because the public eye, tutored by the elegant but unsubstantial fancies of Lawrence's pencil, was unable to fathom the depths of one more solid and enduring. The annals of Art rarely afford a parallel instance to the career of David Wilkie. That, at a comparatively late period of his professional practice, he should have so successfully embarked in a novel adventure, as it were, and pursued it to the satisfaction of the learned in Art, is evidence of no common order of genius. It too frequently happens when painters stray from a path which they have so long trodden as to make it their own, they wander into error and are lost amid a labyrinth of difficulties, from which there is small chance of escape. Instances of such might be adduced in great number, but the name of Wilkie most assuredly would not appear in the list. Had he not been so suddenly cut off,—if “his sun had not gone down while it was yet day,"—the world would probably have seen him achieve greater triumphs than any he had already accomplished. " Nemo vir magnus sine aliquo affilatu divino unquam fuit." . CC VO The inspiration to which the old Roman writer here refers had already made Wilkie's name great; it would, eventually, have placed it still higher. The picture of “The First Ear-ring” was painted in 1835; as a subject there is little in it to attract attention, and in the hands of one less skilful in domestic portraiture, it would, in all likelihood, have degenerated into the commonplace, if not into vulgarity. Here there is evident that refined treatment which ever distinguishes the works of Wilkie from many of his imitators. The scene exhibits the interior of an elegantly furnished apartment in which two ladies of unequal ages are engaged, one in operating upon a young girl, and the other in comforting the child under the pain of the piercing needle. The countenances of the assembled group bespeak most admirably the several occupations, especially that of the child, which exhibits a compound of fear and an anticipated pleasure at the thought of wearing ornaments “like mamma's." This personage is holding the hand of her daughter by way of consolation. The elderly lady, who performs the part of operator, is a most successful realisation, and must have been very carefully studied from nature. The introduction of the sympathising little spaniel, scratching his ear, was a happy thought of the artist's ; it gives variety to the composition, and yet seems an integral portion of the original idea. The picture, as may be judged by Mr. Greatbach's excellent engraving, is painted in that more free style which Wilkie had latterly begun to adopt. J.H. KER NOT, ENGRAVER. SIR A.W.CALLCOTT, PAINTER WAITING FOR THE BOATS FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY S OY DE HICTURES STI DNT, FY TE3% I PINTAD Y CONS SCAR ROTT. PUBLISHED FOR THE TROPRIETORE - ---- - - - -------- WAITING FOR THE BOATS. O IC- TIL 71 LIUIU R. AIKIN we believe it was who wrote a short but highly instruc- tive dialogue, entitled “Eyes and no Eyes, or the Art of Seeing." It is, if we remember aright (for it is many years since we read it), a conversation between a tutor and his two young pupils, and relates to a walk in the country, from which the latter had just returned ; one, Il mese of an observant and inquiring mind, pleased with the beauties of the scenery through which they had wandered, sought information concerning 3 de numerous objects of natural history he had either seen or brought home with him ; the other, weary and disappointed, had met with nothing to excite his curiosity or attention, and came back with no other thought than that the “land was all barren;" whereupon the tutor takes occasion to point out how much enjoyment had been realised and lost, respectively; how great advantage he who used his eyes had over him who had kept them closed ; and how impossible it was to travel over the wildest waste without encountering something that could afford both amuse- ment and instruction to the mind determined to search for either. Now it is just this capacity for “ seeing.” which gives one artist the advantage over another ; or it may, perhaps, rather be said that it is the ability to apply what is seen which enables one painter to create a picture almost out of nothing, while another requires that Nature should spread before him her choicest treasures with an unsparing hand ere he can select a fragmen suited to his purpose. The difference between the two, however, after all, lies not so much in the talent either possesses, as in the construction of their minds respectively, which can see and adapt itself to whatever comes before it. There are few subjects which, to a man of genius, are utterly valueless ; but the feeling to create the beautiful in Art, from any given source, must vary according to the amount of interest that is felt in it; or, in other words, according to the light in which it presents itself to the artist's eye. Thus if you place half a score of painters to the same scene, we should have an equal number of pictures, each totally distinct from the others, in character, in construction, and in treatment ; each artist working out his subject as his feelings suggest, and as his individual eye sees it; one, perhaps, only producing a mere transcript of nature ; another enduing it with a poet's conception : a third, perhaps, making it THE VERNON GALLERY. M LDDD subordinate to some incident which his fancy or faculty might dictate, and so through the rest. We have known artists, who have been offered commissions to paint a given subject, refuse to accept it, not because they could not paint it at all, but, inasmuch as they could not feel it, or see it, the task would be irksome, and therefore performed unsatisfactorily to all parties. It is generally a grand mistake for a patron to limit an artist to a particular subject, instead of allowing full scope to the bent of his genius and his own imagination. Callcott was a painter who felt at home everywhere, and who had the power of successfully pursuing whatever he undertook in Art:- “Quodcunque tetigit, ornavit.” The blue skies of Italy, her rich combinations of mountain, architecture, and lake ;—the flat and monotonous shores of Holland ;-the pastures, and rural nooks and corners, of our own country, were all familiar to his pencil, and found in him a faithful representer. He was one who dwelt in an atmosphere of peace and sincerity, who loved not the war of the elements any more than the strife of mankind; hence his pictures partake largely of this character of repose, and generally represent Nature in her “mildest moods,” and under the influence of a gentle sunshine. Even when, as in the picture here engraved, there is an indication of tumult, it is so “ kept down,” and seems so far off, as to make it extremely doubtful whether foul weather will eventually reach the loiterers on the shore. This is a comparatively large picture, when the material of its composition is taken into account-material requiring a master's hand to make it in a great degree acceptable ; for there is little in the subject itself to arrest the painter's eye, however skilled in the “art of seeing”— nor has he given it all that life and activity which a more ambitious conception would have applied to make it attractive : and yet a charm dwells in its extreme simplicity and repose,—a repose that appears to be shared by every object, animate and inanimate, for there is not a breath of air in the atmosphere, even to create a ripple on the distant water, unless we except the single figure towards the end of the pier, whose garments flutter as if the breeze blew on that particular spot alone. The scene is evidently on the Dutch coast, as the figures indicate the costume of that country. They are presumed to be waiting for the arrival of the fishing-boats, just perceptible in the horizon. In the printed catalogue of the Vernon Collection the picture is merely described as a “ Coast Scene ;” but there cannot be a doubt of the artist having the fish-market in his mind when he made the picture. These figures, the old pier and the long dry sands, constitute the materials of the work, which is painted with much freedom, yet carefully, and in a cool, pearly tone, in harmony with the subject, but rendering the engraving less effective than if the lights had been more powerfully brought forward. C DI COTTAGE CHILDREN. a rem P . C Ya A T was a remark of Sir Joshua Reynolds that “Gainsborough had e r a painter's eye, but not a painter's mind,” by which it is presumed he meant that the scanty education received by this excellent artist when young disqualified him from enjoying or appreciating anything beyond the simplicity of nature ; there was little of the poetry of his art to be 2 discovered in his pencil. Indeed Gainsborough himself was fully sensible of this, for, on his once paying a visit to Hampton Court in company with a brother artist to see the glorious Cartoons of Raffaelle, after a long and attentive of observation of them, he said “ that he did not in reality feel those beauties which had universally produced such transcendent praise from the most celebrated critics and painters. He candidly confessed that their excellence, whatever it might be, had not fallen within his line of study, and his mind was not previously prepared to enjoy those beauties of science which his education had not led him to contemplate." There is an ingenuousness and candour in this admission rarely to be met with, yet it is one that might have been expected from the child-like disposition of the painter. • Gainsborough's first public essays in art were portraits, in which he obtained great encouragement, receiving commissions from members of the Royal Academy, and from many of the nobility. At this time he resided chiefly in Bath, but coming to London in 1774, and attracting the notice of Reynolds, between whom and Richard Wilson a feeling of hostility prevailed, the former took every opportunity of putting forward the claims of Gainsborough as the first landscape-painter in the country, thereby elevating the latter at the expense of Wilson ; perhaps, too, there was some secret fear in the mind of Reynolds that his own glory as a portrait-painter might be overshadowed by the new luminary which had just dawned on the world of fashion. Speaking of his landscapes, Sir Joshua says, “ the excellence he attained was his own, the result of his particular observation and taste ; for this he was not indebted to the Flemish school, nor indeed to any school, for his grace was not academical or antique, but selected by himself from the great school of nature.” CU THE VERNON GALLERY. I SUU f In criticising the works of those painters who distinguished themselves in the infancy of art, it is perfectly natural and just to assign them a higher rank than they would be entitled to under other circumstances. It is a high mission to which they are called who help to disperse the clouds of ignorance and darkness, and show the dawn of that light which is to issue in meridian day; but it would be folly to expect an equal degree of excellence in such, with those who live at a more matured period of human intelligence and civilisation : fruit in perfection is not gathered from the young graft, however promising the stock; and reason forbids us to look for the full development of mental power till the child has grown into the man, and study, and experience, and communion with his fellow-man, equal or superior to himself, have ripened his faculties, and set their true value upon them. Cimabue found Giotto tending the flocks on the mountains, and he “took him from the sheepcote, and from following the sheep," to become the “day-star” of resuscitated art; yet who would compare his works with those of Raffaelle, Correggio, or the Caracci? It has been the fashion to compare Wilson, and Barret, and Gainsborough, to whom the English school of landscape-painting owe so much, with Claude, Poussin, and others ; this is folly, and unjust to their own reputation, which must rest on the intrinsic merit of their respective pictures, and not by comparing them with others produced at an era when art reigned triumphantly where it was in full vigour. It is sufficient for the fame of our countrymen when we say they performed their own tasks well, and cleared the ground for a richer and more abundant harvest. It may reasonably be supposed that if Gainsborough had lived half a century later his pictures would have exhibited greater refinement, yet have lost none of their truth, breadth, and force; a closer acquaintance with the works of other artists, more learned but not more original than himself, would have freed his style from much of its crudity and want of elegance. We are speaking now of such subjects as that here engraved, which are among his most successful compositions, for though we desire not to see our peasant children stripped of that rough but comely garb which nature has given them—the stout limb and ruddy countenance strengthened by the mountain-winds and tinged by the sunbeams of heaven-and pictured as from drawing-room models (of which, by the way, in the present day we have too many examples) ; we prefer seeing them drawn from the best of nature's workmanship. A study of this group of “ Cottage Children” will, we think, illustrate our meaning ; in composition, and colour, and execution, the picture is all that can be wished, but the heads of the figures would bear somewhat more of refinement without losing the characteristics which belong to them. There is a larger work of this subject, by Gainsborough, but it is scarcely equal to that in the Vernon Collection, from which our engraving is taken. UCU lu DUTCH BOATS IN A CALM. ee E suppose it must be the peculiarly picturesque appearance of Dutch boats which causes English painters so frequently to introduce them into their pictures ; or it may be the desire to imitate the works of the great marine painters of the Low Countries, so far as the adoption of similar material will permit; for it is curious that the ship-builders of Holland have continued to the present day to construct their vessels, of almost every class, upon the same principles as we find in them a century or two back ; thus, in the flat-bottomed boats presented in the engraving, we have the rounded head and stern, and the same style of rigging which may be observed in the pictures of Vandervelde and Backhuysen. The naturally phlegmatic and immoveable character of the Dutch renders them less inclined to progress with the advance of scientific knowledge than the inhabitants of most other countries ; what served their forefathers answers their purpose equally as well ; and ships which enabled Van Tromp, and De Ruyter, and Opdam, to contest the sovereignty of the ocean with England, and to sail unmolested up the Thames, frightening from their propriety the wealthy citizens of London and the profligate court of Charles II., they IC Dutch have ever paid to their marine department, and their love for everything connected with maritime pursuits, no efforts have yet been made to improve upon their old system, and to introduce something more graceful to the sight than the clumsy, ill-shapen machines which float upon the waters before us. Looking with an artistic eye, indeed, we would not quarrel with them, for, as we have observed, there is something exceedingly picturesque even in their native ugliness; and then the rich brown colour with which they are covered, with now and then a bright green or red stripe to relieve the monotony of tint, imparts to them a gay appearance, especially when a warm sun is shining; and thus they seem altogether as well to do,” and as stout, and as comfortable, as any Mynheer Van Dunck could desire to possess, or a Stanfield, or THE VERNON GALLERY. WE a Cooke to paint. “I cannot think,” said a lady, one day, whose perception of subject matter for a picture was not quite in accordance with her love of Art, and who addressed her observation to an acquaintance of ours, by whose side she stood while he was sketching some old boats on the Sussex coast ; "I cannot think why you artists always select some worn-out, disabled, vamped-up craft for your pencil instead of such as that ?"-pointing to a neat, trimly- dressed vessel lying at anchor close by. “Why," was the reply, “it is just the qualities you condemn which adapt them to our purpose.” So it is that beauty is created out of deformity by the hand of genius. The practised eye of the artist sees much that escapes the observation of the uninitiated in Art; he gathers ideas from the apparently worthless—the wrecks of time laid aside and disregarded by the multitude, yet tinged with a thousand hues and colours—the drapery of nature varying under every change of light and atmosphere, and therefore gems in the eyes of the painter, and valuable even in their decay. Mr. Cooke is one who revels amid the ruins of such past glories ; we can fancy him wandering along the beach, in search of the picturesque, where boats of every size and shape, and in every variety of position, are scattered on the sand and the shingle, and amid the sea-weed, or long rank grass, some of them still able to weather the storm, others “ laid up in ordinary,” or cast by as having done their duty. Within the last few years he has exhibited some pictures which entitle him to a high place in the category of our marine painters. Among them is the “Dutch Boats in a Calm,” here engraved—a quiet and delicately-handled representation of one of those North Sea scenes Mr. Cooke has frequently pictured with so much truth and feeling : the work is composed with judgment and effect, the several parts are well balanced, and the distance is obtained by a very careful management of aërial perspective. There is little or no motion in the mass of clouds stretching towards the horizon, nor does there seem to be a breath of wind to fill out the sails that hang listlessly on the spars and rigging : all indicates a hot summer's afternoon, which there is no doubt the artist intended to portray. The picture was exhibited at the British Institution in 1844; and was there purchased by Mr. Vernon. -- -- -- -- -- -- - THE LAST IN. . . LOOM * - 2 Li viviu . Mih HE pictures of this painter are studies, not only for the artist, but for those who would read the philosophy of human nature ; the former will find in them the very highest qualities of his art, and the latter may discover amid the groups that make up his subjects something beyond the types and shadows of individual character. Mulready is the “ Æsop” of painters, inasmuch as beneath all his figurative expressions lies the moral of truth, fashioned indeed after a y the similitude of a fable, but easily discerned and applied. From the starting-point at which he commenced his career as an artist to the present time,-a period of nearly, if not quite, half a century,—he has travelled on progressively, wandering neither to the right nor to the left in quest of novelties, pursuing one straightforward course in his search after excellence ; his onward journey marked, year by year, by manifest improvement, so that his latest works, those he has produced when it might reasonably be presumed mental and bodily energies would be impaired, are those which exhibit the utmost vigour of both : witness, his “ Choosing the Wedding Gown,” his “Sophia and Burchell," the “ Whistonian Controversy," and others that might readily be named. In these, we see precisely the same principles of art, though carried out therein to their utmost limit of power and beauty, that are recognisable in “ The Rattle” and the “ Carpenter's Shop," painted forty years back. It is this oneness of purpose which has given the painter his pre-eminence ; having satisfied himself, and others also, that his theory was right, he has persevered with it to the end, and is now reaping the reward of his abstracted diligence, the neglect of which, in other painters, has too frequently operated as a barrier to their signal success. Mulready did not commence with that line of Art in which he has of late years so highly distinguished himself ; his earliest pictures were of old picturesque houses, cottages, and landscapes, simple in subject, but so extraordinary in execution as even then to be considered worthy of ranking with the best works of their class at any period. His first figure subjects were painted about the year 1808, yet it was not till three or four years after that his pencil found employment on those humorous scenes, which are perhaps the most attractive of his US THE VERNON GALLERY. CUU works ; his “Punch,” “The Butt,” “The Wolf and the Lamb," &c., &c. Although, in this department of Art, he and Wilkie may be said to have ranged over the same field with the same object in view, still, each pursued his course in his own way, and both arrived at the goal of excellence by their individual efforts, totally irrespective of each other. No two styles can be so totally dissimilar as those of Wilkie and Mulready. “The Last In," was painted in 1835; other pictures by this painter may exhibit more delicate finish and greater brilliancy of colour, but certainly none surpass it in the truth, drawing, and arrangement of his materials. The scene is a village school-room, in which is a mixed group of girls and boys, to whom instruction is given “in the preliminary branches of a genteel education,"—that is to say, in reading, writing, and arithmetic, with, it may be supposed, the use of the needle to the female pupils,—by the master and mistress jointly and separately, for both appear to be occupied in the active duties of the “establishment.” The interest of the picture lies principally with the Dominie, and the truant who is so bashfully doffing his cap at the entrance ; how respectfully the bald-headed preceptor wishes the young idler a “good morning," and how gladly would the latter skulk behind the open door, and forego a ceremony, which, in his case, he thinks would be more “honoured in the breach than in the observance." That look of embarrassment on the countenance of the “last in" tells a tale of guilt, for the punishment of which, the rod is already prepared and lies near the feet of the victim, behind whom are seen the faces of two figures, probably his companions in playing truant, anxious to know how it is likely to fare with him. To the left of the master's desk is a group of girls, also much interested in the affair, and two of the juveniles in the front, embrace the opportunity of “making a sketch” on a book cover, with a piece of chalk; most likely“ a portrait,” for this is the first branch of Art generally practised at school by voluntary beginners. The youngster with his back to the spectator, is undergoing the punishment due to offenders, in the shape of a heavy log tied to one of his feet. The introduction of the two females with the infant, in the distance of the interior, does not seem quite in place in such a scene. This picture is a capital example of the painter ; there is a grace about the entire composition, humble as it is in subject, rarely manifested in works of this class ; but this grace is ever a feature in Mulready's pictures, he refines the common-place incidents of life without taking from them their natural character, or overloading them with a false and deceptive sentiment. HIGH LIFE. A MIT 1 LUI HIS engraving forms a companion to that entitled “ Low Life,” given in the last part of this publication. In the “Vernon Collection” VBA the two pictures are placed side by side, in one frame, so that the the two nict. characteristic points of each are distinctly seen by contrast. The social condition of the two animals could not be better described than we see it on Mr. E. Landseer's .canvases,—the one rough, hardy, and ready for any street-broil, a “ dog of all work ;” the other sleek and well- 030bred, courageous withal, and, like a truly brave man, slow to enter into a quarrel, yet when once engaged, determined to fight it out to the last. PS This painter appears to have studied the domestic habits of the dog rather than those of his untutored nature. He pictures him in the hut, in the drawing-room, and in the kennel, but rarely when employed in active operations ; his “Otter-hunt," “ Deer Stalking in the Highlands,” and two or three other works of the same class forming almost the only exceptions. He elicits our admiration on account of the sentiment his works contain, but he seldom or never excites us by such spirited subjects as Snyders, Paul de Vos, and Weeninx used to paint. It is scenes like these on which we would desire to see Mr. Landseer's pencil engaged, if he still determines to adhere to a practice, wherein, inimitable as he is, he scarcely renders himself justice. His dogs, now, are almost always taking their ease “at home;" we should like to see them roused to action, as we find them in the magnificent wild boar hunts of Snyders, or the lion hunts of Rubens. Pictures of this class bear the same relationship to those which Mr. Landseer now paints, as do the representations of great historical events to simple portraiture or scenes of ordinary life among our own species ; his may be called a kind of canine genre pictures. Artists who aim at something beyond a mere evanescent popularity, and who desire to reach the highest points of excellence in whatever department they have chosen, will never do so until they make it their chief business to study what those points are, and how they may best be attained. There are comparative degrees of excellence in all art, as in all nature; and he who is content with delineating a dockleaf when he can paint a rainbow --with exhibiting the brute creation in their lowest sensibilities, instead of the loftiest intelligence with which they are endowed,—he who is satisfied to place before us man occupied in mean and derogatory pursuits, when he could elevate him to a position which, in moral THE VERNON GALLERY. dignity and in exalted capacity leaves him but “a little lower than the angels,” stops far short of his important mission, and turns to a very inadequate account the talent entrusted to him. The popularity which Landseer has so long enjoyed, has, perhaps, in a great measure, been the cause of his condescending to such subjects as we have in this picture and its companion. When a painter has achieved a reputation, he may do with impunity what lesser minds dare not attempt ; but he will not thereby add one iota to his fame. Moreover, when habitually employed in works of a lofty character, where intense mental labour, consequent on deep study, is required; the mind requiring relaxation, and the hand a certain amount of rest, may be allowed to devote a few hours occasionally to the indulgence of an “idle industry," by throwing off a few “shreds and patches” of his art, which may, perchance, serve as ideas for more important productions. The scene to which the title of “High Life” is appended, shows us a dog of the hound species seated in an apartment of a castle, which, judging from the furniture and its other contents, apparently is that more especially occupied by the lord of the mansion, a knight of the olden time :- am “ Helmet and sword, breastplate and glove, lie there." The knight is evidently a bookman and scribe as well as a warrior, for implements of writing are scattered on the table, interspersed with heavily-clasped volumes ; and were he sitting in the old arm chair in the foreground of the picture, we could imagine him addressing his dog in such words as the following :- “What, Herod, my hound, dost remember the day, When I fronted the wolves like a stag at bay ? When downwards they galloped to where I stood, Whilst I staggered with fear in the dark pine-wood. Dost remember their howlings, their horrible speed ? Oh God, how I prayed for a friend in need ! And he came !oh, 'twas then, my dear Herod, I found, That the best of all friends was my bold bloodhound." BARRY CORNWALL. The dog in this picture is not, however, a bloodhound; we should rather take him to be a specimen of the Scotch hound, such as are used in the Highlands for deer-stalking, and which we frequently see introduced by the artist in his representations of Scottish sports and scenery. There is no date of the period when this work and its companion were painted, nor do we know precisely when they passed into the possession of Mr. Vernon, but there is no doubt of their being comparatively early works of the painter. LOW LIFE. TI 1989 V T will scarcely be denied that Mr. Landseer owes no small measure of his popularity as a painter to the interest which almost all pour Englishmen feel in the animals he so admirably portrays ; in no country is the dog so thoroughly domesticated as in our own, where he very frequently becomes one of the family circle, and takes his place regularly amid the fire-side group. This attachment to the canine race is manifested by all 18 ranks, from the peer to the peasant—from the aristocrat, whose“ Dalmatian” follows his magnificent equipage, and whose graceful Italian greyhound or sleek “King Charles's spaniel” peeps from its mistress's lap out of the carriage NOS window, to the travelling tinker with his mongrel cur, as dirty, but not as ill-conditioned, as himself ; for the poor man, humane in his poverty, always takes care that the wants of his four-footed companion are supplied before his own : besides, dogs of this kind have a wonderfully clever method of catering for themselves, whereof we have frequently seen many ludicrous examples,to narrate one of which may not be out of place here. Passing one day through a street in the neighbourhood of London, we noticed a lad carrying on his head a tray full of loaded dishes from the baker's; his foot accidentally caught a stone, throwing the tray off its balance, and precipitating a dish that contained a pigeon-pie to the ground; its contents were soon at the mercy of any invader; a large and hungry-looking dog passed by at the moment, whose taste, we presume, was somewhat epicurean, for, without waiting for an invitation, he instantly seized one of the pigeons and darted off with it in his mouth up an adjoining street, to the dismay of the unfortunate baker, but to the perfect delight of half a score young urchins who had witnessed the catastrophe and its sequel. The enthusiasm with which a very large number of our fellow-countrymen of the higher and middle classes pursue the sports of the field is, perhaps, a predominating cause of the interest which is manifested for the breed of dogs that share with them the excitement of the chase and the gun. Pascal, in his discourse on the “ Misery of Man," is especially severe on the former of these recreations, and considers they would engage less of man's attention if he were not desirous of being surrounded by a multitude of persons and affairs that may hinder THE VERNON GALLERY. us from looking into ourselves. This is not a correct view of the case, and we would rather incline to Dryden's opinion, who thought we should neither “ throw physic to the dogs," nor take it ourselves. “ By chace our long-liv'd fathers earn’d their food, Toil strung the nerves and purified the blood; Better to hunt in fields for health unbought, Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught. The wise for cure on exercise depend, God never made his work for man to mend.”' With the lower orders of society the love of the dog is generated by other causes ; he is the poor man's companion, and often his fellow-labourer in his daily avocations ; he is no “pampered menial," but one who shares with his master the heat and burden of the day in working for their joint livelihood, and although it is scarcely to be supposed that, as they trudge homeward together by the last rays of the setting sun, or by the light of the multitude of stars, even the most ignorant peasant of our time can- “think, admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company,” ni such a thought would be natural, and certainly excusable, if we consider their present reciprocal attachment. The animal here pictured by Mr. Landseer under the cognomen of “Low Life” has undoubtedly no claim to higher rank, either by birth, education, or those with whom he associates. So burly a mongrel is rarely seen in the company of a gentleman, and yet there is such an air of impudent self-complacency in the countenance of the fellow as he sits basking in the sunshine, so much assumed dignity, as would warrant the supposition that he were of royal race, and proper company for any one. But he is evidently a dog not to be played with by a stranger, that broad chest and deep jowl,—those short, thick-set legs, would render him a formidable enemy if attacked, and a valuable ally to his master, whether for good deeds or evil. The true character of a thorough fighting dog has never been better portrayed, and whatever the duties which devolve upon him, there can be no question of his performing them faithfully and vigorously. The butcher's block and knife which form a portion of the accessories—the boots, bottle, porter-pot, pipe, and drenching-horn, intimate that his master belongs to that fraternity ; and, prior to the passing of the Act of Parliament a few years back prohibiting the use of dogs for draught purposes, those of the class here represented were frequently employed in drawing through the streets of the metropolis, heavily laden trucks of meat; being more economical to keep than a donkey or horse, and capable of doing more work than the former, and almost as much as many of the latter. The morale of this engraving will be better understood when placed in juxta-position with its companion print, “High Life," which will appear in a subsequent number. LG THE VILLAGE FESTIVAL. tu ) V . . V . " LU CE T is an old remark, but not the less true because old, that time is a never-ceasing innovator,-a restless disturber of whatever exists, a magician whose wand is always stretched out to e metamorphose or destroy. And yet the changes he effects are not so rapid among what we see around us as in ourselves : it is by very gradual processes that nature assumes an aspect different from that which for ages she may have worn; still a few years of man's life are sufficient to force an alteration, real or imaginary, on his conviction. Ask him who has reached his threescore years and ten, whether now the skies are as blue, the flowers as sweet, the hedges as green, or the mountain trees as lofty and luxuriant in their foliage, as all seemed to him when a boy-—is there anything in the visible world which fulfils thé n e promises of his youth, and commends itself to his senses now as it did in days @ 3) long gone by? He will return you but one answer—“Ah, things are not as they used to be; the world is growing old and dim; men have forsworn or forgotten what once delighted them; they talk of sunshine, but I cannot see it, and of pleasures which have no charms for me!” Such is the lamentation that age too frequently makes measuring all things, whether new or old, by his increasing incapacity for enjoying them, and unmindful of the fact, that whatever changes time may have wrought in the beauties of the material world, or in the pleasures and fashions that the heart of man seeks after, a far greater and more visible change is in himself, mentally and physically, though he seems to be ignorant of it. There is an anecdote related of an old Italian, who, ical offence committed in early life, had been immured for long, long years, in prison. Circumstances, however, at length transpired which caused him to be released ; and, with feeble gait and wondering eyes, he made his way to the home of his youth. It was there still; even as he had left it; the trellised-work covered with sweet, creeping plants, and the purple grapes hanging in rich clusters over the roof and sides of the cottage. Other cottages were there, too, as in the days of yore, and the woods and meadows which surrounded them had undergone no alteration ; but he knew them not: he was a stranger in a strange land, and he found no pleasure in them. So he retraced his 'steps to the door of his OV meas el V 1 1 THE VERNON GALLERY. prison-house, and begged admission again as one who had neither inclination nor capacity for the relish of aught beyond its dark and loathsome walls. The application of this story to the foregoing remarks will be readily seen. To pass from the cases of individuals to others of a nature less important perhaps to each of us as regards our future, but of a more general character, and therefore more striking, -of a wider range, and therefore more obvious to all,—the history of a nation, from its birth to its decline, is a volume which discloses an unceasing record of change. Customs, habits, manners, language, national feelings and sentiments, are ever varying. Each succeeding century, as it shuts out the last, like the shifting scenes of a drama, brings with it new actors, differently costumed, prepared to play new parts. It may indeed be a question whether these often have any other recommendation than their novelty; and if the pages of a work like this were the fitting arena for entertaining such a matter, we might be disposed to discuss it. There cannot be a doubt but that the “ march of intellect" (to use a favourite expression of the day) has, during the present century, passed with giant strides over the length and breadth of the land; yet it is by no means certain that the people have benefited thereby. Knowledge is not wisdom, least of all such wisdom as brings happiness in its train ; while in too many instances what we most eagerly covet is but little calculated to minister to our real pleasure, and rarely to our profit. The knowledge which in our day is most ardently desired, most restlessly sought after, is that which will increase a man's wealth, and elevate his position among his fellows. These, indeed, are lawful objects if fairly attained, and if, when attained, they are used for wise and benevolent purposes; still the “making haste to be rich” is one of the signs of our times that forebodes little good. Communities, like individuals, degenerate from a naturally sound and healthy condition into languor, inertness, and moral turpitude, when they are “clothed in purple and fine linen, and fare sumptuously." History everywhere records the fact that the highest acquirements of knowledge, the widest range of scientific application however abstruse, the philosophy of reason, the poetry of art, are no safeguards against national decay, unless sustained and invigorated by a just and a moral feeling--the wisdom of the heart—which too seldom accompanies the possession of riches. Hence, when a country can boast of inordinate wealth, there is the first symptom of incipient corruption; the crown is beginning to fall from its brow :- - - “ It has touch'd the highest point of all its greatness, And, from that full meridian of its glory, It hastens to its setting.” - - - --- Pictures of the class to which belongs Mr. Goodall's “ Village Festival,” invariably provoke in our minds a comparison between what England was in former years and what she is now; and the comparison is certainly not favourable to the present time, especially with reference to the humbler classes of her population, among whom we believe there is far less of that inartificial, natural enjoyment, such as we find depicted here, than prevailed THE VERNON GALLERY. before society of all grades had assumed the tone and manners with which our own times have made us familiar. Let a man travel through any part of the kingdom, either in the manufacturing or the agricultural districts, and he must be convinced, if his eyes are not OUI half century, or even longer, is not a change for the better in what constitutes social happiness. The sports and amusements of the people, that were formerly considered a part of the business of life, are gradually wearing away, or if retained in some far-off locality which the “schoolmaster” has not yet reached, are but the shadows of what they were ; the feet have become weary with incessant labour, the hands are ever at work for daily food, the spirit is depressed with ill-paid toil; there is in fact no time for anything that will not help to procure the necessaries of existence ; its enjoyments are rarely sought after, from a consciousness that they are altogether out of reach. A country SO circumstanced ought not to boast of its greatness nor its power; virtually it has neither, for there is no soundness in its core, no vitality in its constitution. Mr. Goodall's picture refers to a favourite pastime of English rustic life, which is rapidly on the decline ; for the “Fairs” of our own day have little in common with the “ Festivals” of the past. Hurdis, who was professor of poetry at Oxford towards the close of the last century, and whose pastoral poems are far less known than their truth and simple beauty deserve, gives, in his “ Village Curate,” an admirable description of one of these rustic fêtes :- “Now comes the happy morning long desired By rural lads and lasses ; light appears ; The swain is ready in his Sunday clothes, And calls on Nell to trip it to the fair. The village bells are up, and jingling loud Proclaim the holyday;" &c., &c. The scene of the “right merrie-making” in our engraving, is the favourite old rural hostel of “The Royal Oak,” a sign that was everywhere adopted at the Restoration to show the loyalty of the rustic Boniface. The house itself is a genuine relic of that period, and beyond it are other residences of the villagers, closed in by the parish church. The most prominent group of figures is that on the foreground, surrounding a Jew pedlar, who exposes his glittering wares to the admiration of a knot of old women, maidens, and children, expatiating with the eloquence of his tribe on their value and beauty; and apparently with so much success as seems likely to draw forth some pence from the little embryo ploughman before him, diving his hand to the very bottom of his trowsers' pocket, in search of the purchase-money. This portion of the story is capitally told ; the Jew is worthy of the younger Teniers. To the right of this group is another equally full of character; a yeoman of the true Saxon blood, after, it may be presumed, having eaten and drunk to his heart's content, is listening to the landlord, who counts, on his fingers, the various items for which he demands payment, and which, to judge from the THE VERNON GALLERY. countenance of the debtor, are surprisingly numerous ; at the same table is one who seems to have much work to do in little time, so energetically he plies the knife and fork. Behind these, and in the house and about it, the votaries of fun and frolic are busily occupied, but the characters here introduced appear of that time of life which indisposes them to join hands with those in the centre of the picture :- “ Many a youth and many a maid, Dancing in the chequered shade," who are footing it with an earnestness and zest in which Sir Roger de Coverley would have delighted had he witnessed the merry spectacle. Under the shade of the veritable “Royal Oak,” planted, perhaps, in the year when the second Charles ascended the throne of his ancestors, are the minstrels making melody,—three venerable artistes, whose music on the Sunday most probably fills the parish church, for the violin-player has greatly the appearance of the village clerk; these are flanked on the right by a well-spread table and a tolerable-sized cask of ale, to which they doubtless have recourse between the acts; and in the immediate foreground is a bevy of young children playing with boisterous glee. Such are the principal features of Mr. Goodall's pleasant picture of an old English holiday; it remains for us only to notice its execution, which is no way inferior to the composition. The work is one of most careful labour ; the faces of the figures are wrought up with extraordinary nicety ; each one is, indeed, a separate study; the various groups are well balanced, and the eye of the spectator is carried insensibly, as it were, round the entire circle of the dramatis persona. The colouring is brilliant to a degree, yet perfectly harmonious and firmly painted ; in fact, the picture is altogether an honour to the artist and to the English school. When it hung on the walls of the Royal Academy in 1847, it attracted universal attention, and drew daily towards it crowds of admirers, as one of the most interesting works in the gallery, both in subject and in treatment, more especially as the production of a young painter. UL A SYRIAN MAID. home M llaut UNI BAS HE picture to which Mr. Pickersgill has given the above title is, it may be presumed, an imaginative portrait of a young Jewish female of Syria, a country where the descendants of the ancient Hebrews are still to be found in considerable numbers, especially in Damascus, Aleppo, and Jerusalem, &c. In the two former cities they are distinguished for their opulence and luxurious style of living, but elsewhere the lines of the poet are still tolerably applicable ' to the maidens of Syria :- 3 la U . . “Oh, virgin daughters of Jerusalem! Ye were a garden once of Hermon's lilies, That bashfully upon their tremulous stems Bow to the wooing breath of the sweet spring. Graceful ye were ! there needed not the tone Of tabret, harp, or lute, to modulate Your soft harmonious footsteps; your light tread Tell like a natural music. Ah! kow deeply Hath the cold blight of misery prey'd upon you.”—MILMAN. Syria is a country of high historic interest : from its earliest foundation as an empire under Aram, the youngest son of Shem, till the bombardment of its sea-port towns by a British fleet in 1840, it has been the theatre of some of the mightiest events which the world has seen, and the battle-ground of half the nations of the eastern hemisphere. The Israelites, the Assyrians, the Chaldean and the Persian, the Greek and the Roman, Turks and Europeans, have all, in turns, held it in possession ; so that, as it has been well expressed, “Syria is an old land, occupied by all nations, a caravanserai in which all nations have lodged, with no better title one than the other." It is customary to think and speak of the east as of a land still flowing with milk and honey, and we associate almost every part of it in our minds with all that is rich, and magnificent, and luxurious. But these epithets are entirely inapplicable to the present state of Syria-excepting perhaps one or two particular localities—a land where, even now, the stupendous ruins of Palmyra testify to the original grandeur of that city; where, in Jerusalem, stood the most gorgeous temple that mortal hands ever reared for the worship of the Deity; WI LI THE VERNON GALLERY. and where, as at Antioch, “fashion was the only law, pleasure the only pursuit, and the splendour of dress and furniture the only distinction of its citizens.” * Volney, the infidel French writer, whose travels in Egypt and Syria are most graphically described, when contemplating the fallen condition of the latter country, thus breaks forth :-“Whence proceed such melancholy revolutions? For what cause is the fortune of these countries so strikingly changed? Why is not their ancient population reproduced and perpetuated ? I wandered over the country ; I traversed the provinces ; I enumerated the kingdoms of Damascus and Idumea, of Jerusalem and Samaria. This Syria, said I to myself, now almost depopulated, then contained a hundred flourishing cities, and abounded with towns, villages, and hamlets. What are become of so many productions of the hands of man? What are become of those ages of abundance and of life? The temples are thrown down, the palaces demolished, the ports filled up, the towns destroyed; and the earth, stripped of its inhabitants, seems a dreary burying-place.” A Christian writer would at once have found a solution of this seeming mystery in the prophetic denunciation :-“I will destroy your high places, and bring your sanctuaries into desolation : I will make your cities waste ; the land shall be utterly spoiled.” Scattered as are that most extraordinary people, the Jews, over the whole civilised world, the Turkish dominions contain a much larger proportion than any other country- upwards of 800,000, it is estimated ; of whom nearly 200,000 inhabit the Syrian territory. This will not appear surprising when we remember the attachment still felt by the Hebrews of every nation for the land of their original inheritance, at once their glory and their shame; and also how strong their conviction, that the time is not very far distant when they will again possess it and dwell there more glorious and powerful than in the proudest epochs of their history. Even while these lines are being written it has been stated in the public journals of the day, that it is proposed soon to rebuild the Temple at Jerusalem in a style far surpassing that of Solomon's, and that vast sums of money have already been subscribed for that purpose. There may be strong reasons for doubting whether the present generation will ever see such a work even commenced, but we have the warrant of Scripture for believing that the land which was once theirs, shall again be restored to them. The females of the higher Jewish families now resident in Syria are accustomed to adorn themselves with a profusion of jewels; they also take much interest in the cultivation of flowers. The “maid” of Mr. Pickersgill's picture shows he has not lost sight of these national peculiarities : the work is a good one of its class, painted with solidity, and with considerable orilliancy of colour. Tas 0 * Gibbon. TT " THE SCANTY MEAL. 7., V 3 NR VIII Sot Wies . NI VUVI VW IN SA o V HE “horse and his rider," or the horse without his rider, if not subjects of high art, are sure to be popular ones in England, where so much attention is given to the rearing of this noble animal, from the fleet racer to the heavy but symmetrical draught horse. With one or two exceptions, Mr. Herring has no rival in the class of art do te which is drawn from the paddock and the farm-yard; it is in the latter that doen he seems most at home, here his pencil exhibits its greatest versatility, and his invention its highest powers. His scenes in the straw-yard approach t a s nearly to animate nature as art can do—horses, cows, pigs, poultry, goats, pigeons, are depicted in their most striking and attractive features, and with a richness of colouring, which attest the painter's close study of their habits and his skill as an artist. Two of his finest ideal works are “Duncan's Wild Horses" and the “Chariot Horses of Pharaoh ;” both of these are pictures which place the artist above the mere copyist of animal portraiture. The first steps in the career of most painters are generally of a chequered character. Mr. Herring is among that class who, by the strength of their own innate genius, have raised themselves from comparative obscurity into fame and distinction; and, in his case, this result has been realised without any of those early indications of talent which “cast their shadows before." It is, we believe, about thirty-five years back that he left the metropolis for Yorkshire, without any especial object in view ; but a fondness for animals in general, and for horses in particular--a strong desire to “ handle a team” of the latter-induced him to occupy the driving-box of a stage-coach ; an ambition, which at that period, when the glories of the road were at their zenith, was shared in by not a few of our aristocracy and wealthy commoners. How it was that he imbibed a taste for painting we do not know, but it is certain that at this time he frequently filled up his spare hours with making portraits of the various horses which came under his guiding rein, and that he painted and drove them with equal skill ; his constant association with them making him a perfect master of their form, their habits, and character. His position on the box, and his success in the department of art he practised, introduced Mr. Herring to the notice of many individuals LU THE VERNON GALLERY. noted on the turf and in the chace, by whom he was frequently engaged to paint portraits of their favourite horses, and in due time he obtained a mastery over his pencil that enabled him to become something more than a mere animal portrait-painter. In a few years he gave himself up entirely to his art, in which he has obtained a reputation second to no living artist. The “Scanty Meal” is one version of a story, which Mr. Herring has before told in other ways: a group of three horses' heads, variously engaged, has long been a favourite theme with him; yet, although we sometimes recognise the same animals (which, by the way, we believe are some old favourites in his own stables), their occupations are so diversified as to preclude the idea of his having copied his previous works. The attitude assumed by the horse when feeding is exceedingly well rendered in each of the heads here engraved: there is an indifference or dreaminess about them which shows their relish for the dry fodder is not in an equal ratio to its abundance; or, in other words, that they are making a “scanty meal" in a land of seeming plenty. The splendid pigeons introduced into the picture make an agreeable variety in the scene, and also afford the artist an opportunity of giving to his work a few touches of positive colour, that contrast brilliantly with the subdued tones of the other portions. Excellent as this picture is of its kind, it scarcely can be called a fair example of Mr. Herring's talent; it is, therefore, much to be regretted that the “ Vernon Collection," does not contain a specimen of his more important subjects—one of his busy farm-yard scenes for instance, full of varied incidents of agricultural life. un BATHERS SURPRISED BY A SWAN. 011./. 1 HATEVER opinion may be individually entertained as to the tendency of the subjects selected by Etty, no one will deny him the slo ) merit of having proved himself a great artist-great in his concep- tions, if poetical imagination of the highest order constitutes greatness ; -great in his execution, if the most powerful yet delicate colouring applied to the noblest subject—the human form—that can call forth the painter's art, deserves this term. From his earliest years his A mind wandered in the region of fancy, gathering flowers rich and rare as he 2 travelled onwards, watching the shadows and the sunshine play above and around A his path, that he might catch some portion of their beauty wherein to clothe the beings of our earth. In his idea of the spiritual, however, he never lost sight of the material, nor forgot that to charm and satisfy, it was necessary that he should keep within such limits as the ordinary capacity of mind might comprehend. It must have been a hard trial to such an imaginative genius to control its ardour and enthusiasm from overleaping the bounds which it would neither have been safe nor judicious to pass. They who would attribute to Etty, on account of some of his pictures, such as that here engraved for instance, a feeling that borders on the licentious, are guilty of gross error. His mind was of the purest character, exquisitely sensitive to delicacy, and of a decidedly religious nature. He saw only beauty and innocence in the creature who was formed in the image of the Creator, and almost regarded her as if sin had never o’ershadowed her original purity. And if he portrayed our race under the effects of the evils consequent upon transgression, it was to serve as a warning; and why may not a painter employ his talents for a high and holy cause, just as well as a writer who pens a volume for the same purpose ? Is art, of the most elevated and god-like nature, to be shunned because its objects are not arrayed in satins or calicoes; is beauty less beautiful and consequently less worthy of our respectful regard, as it might be supposed to have come from the hands of the Deity, as when fashioned after the laws and customs of men ?-or is there no moral to be learned from a picture, when an artist chooses to show vice in its naked hideousness rather than hide its deformities by clothing them in purple L CU THE VERNON GALLERY. rse and fine linen? It may be presumed that the most fastidious individual would scarcely turn aside from a picture which should represent the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Paradise, simply because the figures were undraped ; nor can it be conceived that any would object to read Milton because the poet has therein exhibited our first parents in their native, unadorned truthfulness and simplicity. It appears then a folly to cavil at a picture for the reason that, mutato nomine, Eve may perchance be transformed into a Venus ; the association of ideas in the mind of the spectator will not indeed be identical with both, but the object itself is the same, under whatever title it appears. None who love art for its own sake desire to hear it spoken ill of, neither do they wish to see it made a stumbling-block of offence to the over-sensitive ; still more would it grieve them to find it degraded to ignoble purposes, and become the channel of unhallowed thoughts. Had Etty considered that his art was made subservient to such ends, dearly as he loved it, laboriously and enthusiastically as he pursued it, he would have flung it aside without remorse as unworthy the attention of a sentient and accountable being; there was no disposition in him to mask the serpent with flowers, nor to offer poison, fragrant with rich odours, in a jewelled cup. Criticism has often been busy with the works of Etty, but it has never accused him of wilfully perpetrating an offence against morality in any of his productions, while he himself says,—“my aim in all my large pictures has been to paint some great moral of the heart ;” nor can there be discerned in any of his less important works a feeling at variance with this intent, though it may not be so prominently brought forward. The beautiful picture of “The Bathers surprised by a Swan” is a fine example of the painter's poetical feeling in composition, and of his powerful colouring ; it is also perfectly pure in sentiment ; for it is well known that the Swan when disturbed in its haunts, especially during the period when the hen-bird is hatching, is singularly ferocious and will attack any intruder ; and although bathing in the open streams is rarely or never practised in this country by females, it has not entirely fallen into desuetude among the inhabitants of warmer climates. Still the picture must be looked upon merely as an ideal work in which the painter had doubtless no other intention than to develope the female form in its symmetrical beauty and loveliness of expression. The flow of lines in the group is truly harmonious, the flesh-tints are brought up with extraordinary brilliancy and force, notwithstanding the mass of positive colour opposed to them in the deep azure of the sky, and in the draperies by their side. READING THE NEWS. S R EAT events of national interest, or of national importance, are sure to find chroniclers not only in the historian but likewise in the poet and the painter. Circumstances frequently create heroes, and noble deeds, if not productive of great minds, at least call them into activity and afford material for the exercise of their powers. The practice of painting history dates back to a very remote period, and has been followed to this time by every . A FL M supposed to be contemporaries with the combatants at Marathon, were employed to decorate the Pacile at Athens with a picture of that celebrated Amateur An battle, and that most of the principal commanders, both Greek and Persian, Vy sat to the artists for their portraits ; numerous other instances of a similar nature might be cited while the arts flourished in Greece, which it is unnecessary PR to adduce ; and examples remain to this day proving that the practice began to prevail in Europe soon after the revival of painting in the thirteenth century. * In almost every country but our own, the respective governments have taken the initiative in thus commemorating great national events, and such productions have been regarded as valuable historical records. To come down only to the present century, Napoleon commissioned the first artists of France to illustrate the success of his conquering legions ; and, later still, Horace Vernet was a long time employed in painting the questionable victories achieved by the French arms in Africa. England, hitherto, has not proved herself so liberal to her artists ; she has been contented to wear the laurels of her conquests, and to reap the harvest from them without caring to “fight her battles o'er again,” on canvas. Whatever has been done in this way by British painters has emanated from themselves, or is the result of a commission from some society or corporate body, as in the case of Stanfield's fine picture of the “Battle of Trafalgar," painted for the United Service Club. In progress of time the internal decorations of the New Houses of Parliament may be the means of encouraging our native artists in the application of their talent to historical painting, by which we would signify not merely the delineation of those achievements which have added to our military renown, but of those also 11 ULO THE VERNON GALLERY. which may recall scenes and events that have advanced our moral and intellectual greatness. Bright and numerous as are the former, and honourable to the British name, a faithful record of the latter would outshine them all, and be welcomed with more hearty and honest pride, by the true patriot. When Wilkie was in the zenith of his fame, England had been long engaged in active hostility with the armies of France ; the important events consequent on this protracted war, which followed each other with such wonderful rapidity towards its close, kept the public mind even of the humblest classes, in a state of eager excitement; and news from the continent was sought after with the utmost avidity by all of every rank and degree. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that Wilkie should find in these matters something whereon to employ his pencil ; but he did not exercise it in portraying the actual contests of the war either in Europe or the East, with the exception of two pictures, “The Defence of Saragossa,” painted in Madrid, in 1828, and “Sir David Baird discovering the body of Tippoo Saib after the storming of Seringapatam," painted in 1839, for Lady Baird,—the latter work being, perhaps, his finest historical effort. A mind feeling and reflective, without being over sensitive, finds little pleasure in contemplating the horrors of war, though placed before him only “by the mimicry of the painter's art ;” it is sad enough, and excitement enough, to read of their sickening details, without having them brought home to the eye on the silent, yet truthful canvas. So, at least, Wilkie appears to have thought; but he also thought they might be suggestive of subject equally interesting and far less painful ; and this idea, no doubt, it was which induced him, in 1817, to commence his well-known and most admirable picture of “ Chelsea Pensioners reading the Gazette of the Battle of Waterloo,” painted for the Duke of Wellington, at the price of 12001. This work, however, was not finished till 1822, when it was exhibited at the Royal Academy. “ Reading the News” may be regarded as an off-shoot from the above picture, and being exhibited at the Academy in the previous year, 1821, served as a pioneer to prepare the public mind for the more important work that was to follow, and which, it was well known, Wilkie was engaged upon. The knot of news-mongers in the engraving here introduced are not, indeed, the veterans of Chelsea, and the matter listened to may not be a tale of flood or field, but it is, evidently, a topic of marvellous interest, and occupies the undivided attention of the whole group to the neglect of business and the suspension of boyish amusement. The figures of the baker and of the pair who are perusing the newspaper, are in Wilkie's best manner ; with the others he has not been quite so successful. The picture has a strong daylight effect, but is subdued in tone, showing very little positive colour. It was, formerly, in the collection of General Phipps, and passed into that of Mr. Vernon, after the death of Wilkie, but before the tidings of his decease had reached England. Mo LUIS VENICE.-THE GRAND CANAL. LI OSTERITY, it may reasonably be conjectured, will be as much divided in their estimate of the genius of Turner, as are the critics of our own day. It has been remarked “that the present age ought not to sit in judgment upon him. The enemies and cotemporaries of Sir Joshua Reynolds were as a actively alive to detract from his genius ; he painted not for his time, but for the generations of which we now form a part. And es in his works which have descended to us, there is no ground on which to accuse him, or call in question his excellency.” The same feelings must be our guide to an estimate of Turner; had he been contented to follow in the track marked out by others, and pursued his art by the light which his predecessors had left behind them, he might have been better understood and more generally applauded; but the powerful characteristics that denote genius would have been lost to us, and the painter would only have found rank in the company of a numerous class, instead of standing solitarily—but loftily—on a pedestal of his own, hitherto unapproached, and it may be presumed, unattainable by others. The question on which, we think, posterity will be called upon to decide is not the extent and amount of talent he possesses, but whether he has applied it in the wisest way for his own future fame, and for the glory of his country's arts. Even now, when his works come before us, fresh, and radiant with beauty, his admirers, although of the best class, are comparatively few, but they are hearty, for no one can be a half worshipper at his shrine ; it may nevertheless be doubted, whether this number will not be still more limited when, after the lapse of a century or so, time shall not only have dimmed their brilliancy, but absolutely obliterated the exquisitely delicate aerial tints by which they are so pre-eminently distinguished. It is here then that the engraver steps in to secure to the painter that immortality which, without such aid, might be deemed problematical; and while a sheet of paper remains bearing upon it the impress of his “ Mercury and Argus,” or “Ancient Italy,” or “ Modern Italy,” or “ Ancient Carthage,” or any one of those subjects which form a portion of the Vernon Collection, not to speak of many others that have been engraved, so long will men recognise in Turner a star of great magnitude. It is beyond a doubt that the success of the English school of landscape painters is mainly attributable to Turner; Wilson and Gainsborough laid the foundation of the edifice, and partly reared it, but Turner finished what they began, and gave the whole a beauty and a - THE VERNON GALLERY. LIV grandeur it had not, before his time, possessed. His example stimulated others, who, without pursuing his course, were attracted by its brilliancy, which served as a beacon on the road each had marked out for himself. Widely as the works of all succeeding painters of landscape differ from his in style and treatment, most of them are indebted to Turner for some attribute of beauty or excellence gathered from him. And it is singular, as well as interesting, to note how gradually he changed his style from the simple portraiture of nature into his grandest and most impressive conceptions, and into the region of imagination and fancy : in all his earlier productions the subjects are homely in material, and represented in what may not inappropriately be termed ordinary attire, yet distinguished by the most minute attention to detail, and by a remarkable breadth of effect. Whether unconscious of his own powers, or, what is more probable, guided by that reason which teaches to walk ere one can run, he was content to study closely and assiduously in the byways of nature ere he essayed to labour in her broader, more exalted, but scarcely more captivating paths. It is quite natural to suppose that a mind moulded as Turner's was should, when he was conscious of its strength, have found scope for display in the classic land of Italy. We are uncertain at what period he paid his first visit thither, but it must have been one comparatively early, for we soon find his pencil revelling in the beauties of that land, and his fancy dwelling amid her “ gorgeous palaces,” her “solemn temples,” her magnificent ruins and relics of departed greatness. Now we see him standing in the Forum of old Rome, and, with a magician's wand, as it were, restoring to their original beauty the monuments of Imperial greatness, or rearing again on the banks of the Tiber long lines of sumptuous edifices, fit habitations for the conquerors of the world. The scene is changed, and the Eternal City is placed before us as she now appears to the poet-painter's imagination, bathed in the effulgence of sunset tints that shadow forth her decaying glories. Again his pencil is busy with the pastoral scenery of that highly favoured country, and the “ Temple of Jupiter" arises amid masses of lofty foliage, and “Lake Avernus” stretches far and wide among vine-covered hills and gentle slopes into a misty, interminable distance—a vision of enchantment. “When depicting the beauties of an Italian landscape," writes, many years back, a critic upon Turner's works, “his imagination seems unlimited in his invention, exhaustless in variety of forms, and boundless as the universe itself in immensity of space and air.” His wonderful capability of representing aerial perspective is equalled by no living painter, and it forms a peculiar and most attractive charm in almost all his pictures, while the breadth of light and shade by which they are distinguished enhances their beauty without diminishing their variety of form and feature, for it is the “subtle union” of colour and matter that forms the true principle on which “effect” is legitimately based, and which Turner studies to produce on every inch of his canvas. When he quits the region of fancy, and enters upon the broad field of ordinary subject and familiar matter, we still perceive the poetical bias of his genius ; indeed, we have doubts whether he could treat even the most common-place theme in a common way; his faculty of - Y THE VERNON GALLERY, AN mou conception is too expansive, his powers of invention or creation too fertile, and his taste too refined and cultivated to permit him to lower the dignity of his art to the mere copying of Nature,—the dry transcript of every-day scenes : he describes these with his pencil as one of our most elegant poets would with his pen, and a close analysation of some of his pictures is like reading an epic poem. Take, for example, that of “The Old Temeraire," exhibited at the Royal Academy a few years back, and beautifully engraved not long since by Willmore : there we have the venerable ship, whose flag had borne for nearly half a century the “ battle and the breeze," dismantled of her honours, but with masts still tapering heavenward, towed almost imperceptibly, yet safely, by a tiny steam-tug; a mass put in motion by an atom of that enormous mechanical force which bids fair to remove mountains, and, on the ocean, to supersede the use of our gigantic vessels of war; the contrast between the old and the new powers is most strikingly represented. In poetical harmony with the scene is the time of day in which it is brought forward; a splendid sunset illumines the whole horizon, tinging the masses of clouds with every conceivable hue, and indicating that the worn-out monarch of the ocean, like the sun himself, is setting in glory; while in the zenith appears the young moon, whose crescent is typical of the new-born power which will unquestionably have no small influence in all future contests wherein we may unfortunately find ourselves engaged, to maintain our national independence or our maritime supremacy. We believe this to be no strained reading of the subject, but precisely what the painter intended when he pictured it on his canvas. In the observations which accompanied the engraving from the companion picture to this in the Vernon collection, it was remarked that Venice, above all other Continental cities, offered a wide scope for Turner's luxurious and imaginative pencil, which delights in the beautiful combination of architecture and water here presented to the artist, and in the gathering into one harmonious mass the varied atmospheric tints reflected by such materials under an Italian sky. Byron’s elegant description of Venice is a worthy exponent of Turner's pictures :- “She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean Rising with her tiara of proud towers At airy distance, with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers : And such she was ;-her daughters had their dowers From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers : In purple was she robed, and of her feast Monarchs partook, and deem'd their dignity increased. The spot from which the view of Venice represented in the engraving is taken is, perhaps, the most picturesque and interesting throughout the range of the city, as we have a direct view of many of its most important edifices. The banks of the Grand Canal are lined with splendid marble mansions of the nobility whose historical family names have in many instances outlived their former possessors. Some of these are now used as government offices, others are occupied by foreign consuls and strangers temporarily settled there. THE VERNON GALLERY, C UI To the left of the picture is a long range of buildings possessing little architectural beauty, but, as relieved by the mass of craft in their front, they form a picturesque group, and being in shadow, compose a most effective foreground, balanced on the right by a darkly coloured gondola. At the further extremity of this range is the Dogana, or Exchange, by the side of which numerous vessels are lying : along the distant bank of the Canal are seen some of the most important edifices of the city; in the centre is the vast and massive Ducal palace, the seat of the ancient government, and adorned with numerous paintings by the great masters of the Venetian school, Titian, Tintoretto, P. Veronese, &c., commemorative of the chief events in the history of the republic : this edifice is a singular structure of Saracenic character, and was erected in the fourteenth century. It is connected on the right with the prison of the Inquisition by two bridges, as seen in the engraving, the further and loftier of which is the celebrated “ Bridge of Sighs :” “ I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand.” BYRON. To the left of the palace is the lesser square of St. Mark, one side being open to the sea ; the two splendid pillars of granite brought from Greece in the twelfth century are distinctly visible : one is surmounted by a winged lion, of brass, the ancient emblem of the republic, and known as the Lion of St. Mark, and the other by a statue of St. Theodore, a patron saint of the republic. Behind these rises the lofty Campanile, a square tower, three hundred and twenty feet in height; and the domes of the church of San Giorgio Maggiore, whose façade is opposite the little square of St. Mark, are seen just above the palace; this church is regarded as one of the finest in Venice; it was built by Palladio about the end of the sixteenth century. foreground of the picture, under the shadow of the buildings to the left, may be discerned a figure standing before an easel, on which rests a painting ; by his side are materials for the artist's work. This figure Mr. Turner intends for Canaletti, a native of Venice, whose pictures, especially of Venetian scenery, are highly prized in England, where he resided some time about the middle of the last century. He depicted the palaces of the Adriatic with a beauty and a fidelity almost marvellous ; it is, indeed, difficult to determine whether he most excelled in the charming aerial effects observable in his works, or in their extreme accuracy of detail and linear perspective. Mr. Turner's picture, here engraved, is a valuable pendant to its companion ; it is abundantly rich in colour, yet perfectly true to nature, and is painted with great firmness in every portion of the work. THE AGE OF INNOCENCE. i ICO NY attempt to throw new light upon the character of the works 9 of Sir Joshua Reynolds, or to subject them afresh to criticism, would, at the present day, seem as unnecessary as it must be considered presumptuous. The task has already been performed by every writer on English Art for the last half century, till the subject is well nigh exhausted, ample as are the materials for the pens of the biographer and the learned in Art-matters : he whose genius could elicit the eloquent eulogium of Burke, and find a panegyrist in Dr. Johnson, and prevail to make Northcote lay down his palette and pencils to write a huge volume to his memory, requires no other aid to perpetuate its worth. But while it would be the extreme of folly and ignorance to deny to Reynolds the merit of being a great painter, it seems equally ill-judged to rank him with those masters of past ages where his too partial critics have placed him with Titian, Rembrandt, Correggio, and Vandyck. Considering the disadvantages of artistic education under which he laboured compared with those painters, there is perhaps as much or more honour to be attached to his success than to either of the names with which his has been associated. Born at a period when British Art was still in its infancy, and our acquaintance with the works of the old masters was superficial and limited in extent, the marvel is he achieved so much, especially in his earlier practice. Yet he himself acknowledged, when he visited Rome in the twenty-seventh year of his age, and saw there the glorious works of Raffaelle in the Vatican, how little he knew of genuine Art, and how much was necessary to be unlearned ere he could hope to become a great painter. And to show how false were the notions of even English artists of this period respecting what was excellent in their own profession, Reynolds's old master, Hudson, observed to him, when examining a portrait he had painted on his return to this country after an absence of nearly four years in Italy ;-“Reynolds, you do not paint so well as you did when you left England.” Perhaps, however, it was jealousy, not ignorance, that prompted this ungracious speech, for it is not to be denied that the pictures of Reynolds exhibited a very marked improvement, after his studies on the Continent were terminated. There is one point to which he may claim an undisputed right, that is, originality. Though he had studied at Rome the works of Michael Angelo and Raffaelle, and of Titian, Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese, in the other cities of Italy,—not, however, by copying their THE VERNON GALLERY. 1 entire compositions, which he invariably refrained from doing, tempting as the opportunities must have been to a young, ardent, and aspiring mind,—yet it would be impossible to detect in any one of his pictures a resemblance to either of these great painters. He made himself acquainted with the principles which guided their practice; they refined his taste, and corrected his judgment, and strengthened the power of his mind; he followed them on the road without treading in their steps, gathering freshness and vigour as he journeyed on, from the grandeur and the beauty and the light he saw before him. It is not to be wondered at, then, that the novelty and grace of Sir Joshua's style should have found more than ordinary favour in the estimation of a public accustomed to the insipid and unintellectual manner of his predecessors in England, who clothed truth in flimsy and faded garments, and portrayed nature drily and feebly, without imagination, without harmony, or that expression and feeling which give the semblance of life even to the inanimate. The advent of such a genius on a comparatively benighted land was something more than the coming of the day-star which foretells the dawn; it shone not as the sun at summer noontide, in the full blaze of meridian glory, but as the first appearance of that luminary when he disperses the mists and clouds of a wintry day, to give light and gladness to the dwellers upon earth: wealth and beauty, the noble in rank and the noble in intellect, flocked to the brightness of his rising, and paid him the homage due to his great power. At one period of his pi was accustomed to receive six sitters each day, and he valued his time at five guineas per hour ; this shows him to have been a rapid workman, for, when President of the Royal Academy, in 1770, he only received thirty-five guineas for a single head, a sum infinitely below that which is paid to a second-class portrait-painter of our own time : yet in the pursuit of excellence he was certainly not content with the common routine of practice, and, as he himself thought, so he searched for or invented methods not previously known of embodying those ideas. It is, then, scarcely to be wondered at that he should occasionally be unsuccessful ; still, so long as the true principles of Art are admitted and admired, his most exceptionable works be found to possess a power of mind not often excelled, and rarely equalled, by those who came after him. The feebleness of colouring which characterises many of his works, and which, already, has given them a thin and faded aspect, must, in a great measure, be attributed to his attempts to free his style from the dry and hard manner wherein he had been educated, and to impart to it the grace which, he saw, formed one of the most pleasing features in the pictures of the old masters, in the galleries of Italy : beauty and expression were to him of more importance than power, so that to gain the one he sometimes sacrificed the other. Moreover, the incessant demands upon his pencil, particularly for portraits, must have operated to diminish his labours on some of them, so that they came forth from his studio with less of substance, perhaps, than was consistent with his reputation. As the founder of the British school of painting Sir Joshua Reynolds is entitled to all honour; he has become the model to which most of our subsequent portrait-painters have looked up. Though not the master of Lawrence, the latter was greatly indebted to him for DI mor THE VERNON GALLERY. TU 'ass CUL much of his success, for, even to the latest period of the veteran President's life, Reynolds kept a watchful eye upon the progress of his youthful follower, pointing out his defects, and stimulating him by his approbation. The interview which is recorded to have taken place between the two, when Lawrence first arrived in London, is extremely interesting. The career of the old and illustrious President was drawing to its close ; his genius had levelled the barbarous absurdities of his predecessors, and he was about to leave, as a legacy to his country, the inspirations of his cultivated mind to influence her future career in Art. Rank and fame he had gloriously won for himself ; his house, in Leicester Square, was the resort of all the talent and genius of the metropolis, of every profession, and thither aspirant for distinction—the future President to hear the words of wisdom, and to attend to precepts, which came forth with all the solemnity of the oracles of old, from all the solemnity of the oracles of old, from the lips of the aged painter. Deeply as the young artist must have felt the embarı his works to the scrutinising eye of the greatest painter of the age, there can be no doubt that the consciousness of power, which always accompanies true genius, and the ingenuousness that, in the case of Lawrence, formed a marked trait in his character, sustained him in the ordeal he had then to pass through. “The revolution effected by Reynolds," says another of his most excellent followers, Sir M. A. Shee, “was immediate and complete. He not only eclipsed all his competitors in his own province, but the light of his taste penetrated the whole atmosphere of Art, and appeared to diffuse new life and vigour through the most subordinate departments of his profession. A leader was found whose authority was acknowledged by all. All were anxious to follow in his track, and from this period must be traced the origin and independence of the English school. A number of eminent artists now started forward to sustain the banner of native talent, each possessing and displaying peculiar and original powers, but all partaking more or less of those qualities which contributed to the celebrity of their common model. * * * Original and excellent as he is, however, and indebted to him as we are for almost all that is valuable in our practice, yet the style of Reynolds must always be a dangerous model for the student to follow who has not judgment to discriminate between its beauties and its defects. * * * Though with admirable taste and consummate skill, he atoned for and often successfully concealed his defective drawing, yet, for purity of form, he cannot be taken as a safe guide. His style of execution also, though evincing taste and science of the highest order, cannot be prudently imitated by a pencil less experienced than his own.” It is almost impossible to tell what degree of success Sir Joshua would have achieved in historical painting had he allowed this, rather than portraiture, to have developed the resources of his richly cultivated mind. In making his choice in preference of the latter, he perhaps felt that the taste of his fellow-countrymen was not yet sufficiently matured for the due appreciation of the other; or what is still more probable, that, where the highest qualities of Art were so little understood and valued, portraiture, appealing at once to individual sensibility as well as to personal vanity, would find more interest with the public and lead them by degrees to admire 0 2 THE VERNON GALLERY. Oce the other and nobler grade of Art, if not in himself, yet in those who might succeed him. The defects of his style are more striking in his historical pieces than in his portraits, for there is an entire absence in the former of those qualities that are essential to great works, grandeur of design, severity, and dignity of expression; and it is somewhat remarkable that one who studied so laboriously and so ardently in the school of Michael Angelo should exhibit, even in his portraits, such feebleness of design and such florid yet superficial colouring. His own apology for this was “ that it suited the taste of the times ;” but, inasmuch as he undoubtedly created the taste, he cannot on this ground stand excused for whatever faults he may have committed. To female portraiture, and to his portraits of children, such as that here engraved under “The Age of Innocence," the style of Reynolds was particularly adapted ; an exquisite feeling of taste and elegance pervades these works, beyond that perhaps to be found in the productions of any of his predecessors; it is here that his pencil exhibits its great power of fascination, for it was observed by a cotemporary critic that “his fame must rest on his superlative portraits, and his enchanting representations of the innocence, simplicity, and natural habits of unsophisticated children ; in these he stands alone.” Dr. Johnson, whose mind was not naturally of that order as could estimate rightly the extremes of refinement in the practical application of Art, nor was likely to be won by it into admiration of the tender and sentimental, says,—“I should griere to see Reynolds transfer to heroes and goddesses, to empty splendour and to airy fiction, that art which is now employed in diffusing friendship, in renewing tenderness, in quickening the affections of the absent, and continuing the presence of the dead.” And it is remarkable that one whose knowledge of infantine character could not have been gathered from habitual intercourse with it in his own family, (for Reynolds never was married,) should yet have shown himself so able to portray its attractive peculiarities. The secret of his success lies in the fact that he considered none who bore the image of his Creator, endowed with intelligence and stamped with nobility of mind, however feeble the impress, as unworthy of the deepest study: hence arose his profound acquaintance with human nature, from the innocent simplicity of a child, to the deep thoughts and restless ambition revealed on the lineaments of the statesman-the aspirations and anxieties engraved on the forehead of the man of letters :- “The deepest study of mankind, is Man." The great charm of Reynolds's portraits of children is the intellectual expression he gives them ; while preserving the simplicity inseparable from their nature, he never seems to forget they are already endowed with mental faculties and inquiring dispositions, foreshadowing future power—the germs of an abundant and, perhaps, a blessed harvest. : The “ Age of Innocence” was formerly in the gallery of the late Mr. Harman, and was purchased at the sale of that gentleman's collection for 1,450 guineas, by Mr. Vernon. It has justly borne a high character among the works of the painter. nITY LUL NICU B. WALLIS-ENGRAVEL SIR A. W. CALLCOTT, E A ZAINTER A DUTCH FERRY FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY THE DUTCH FERRY. she OLLAND presents no features of great interest to the landscape- ey painter ; neither in the country nor in its inhabitants is there to be met with anything partaking of the romantic ;-no stately ancient buildings, no castles nor towers standing majestically in undulating parks, or surrounded by trees that have grown hoary with age ;- no broad, sweeping rivers whose waters, broken and impeded in their course by huge fragments of rock, sparkle in the sunshine, and afford the artist ample scope for the arrangement of graceful lines, and for the application of tints as varied and brilliant as those of the rainbow ; or reflect got on their surface thick masses of overhanging foliage from the tall ash, the wide- spread oak and elm, the clustering chesnut, and the spiral poplar. There one sees no lofty hills crowned with rich verdure of every shade of colour, from the most delicate green to the deepest orange or brown, nor still loftier mountain standing with its mantle of purple in bold relief against the western sky, or decked with a coronet of gold from the last bright rays of the setting sun. Nowhere are these to be met with in richer abundance, or more in perfection, than in our own country, which, in spite of all that foreigners may say against the variableness and habitual moisture of the climate, has, from these very causes, charms for the landscape- painter such as are not to be found in any other. The blue skies of Italy; the sunny vine-clad slopes of the south of France ; the dark forests of Germany; the sierras of Spain, offer many attractions to the painter, but none of them exhibit that peculiar freshness of verdure, nor that alternating play of sunshine and shadow which are the characteristic features of English scenery, and form its chief beauty. “The penetrative sun, His force deep-darting to the dark retreat Of vegetation, sets the steaming power At large, to wander o'er the verdant earth In various hues; but chiefly thee, gay green! Thou smiling Nature's universal robe ! United light and shade! where the sight dwells With growing strength, and ever new delight, THE VERNON GALLERY. And all day long the full distended clouds Indulge their genial stores, and well-shower'd earth Is deep enriched with vegetable life; Till, in the western sky, the downward sun Looks out, effulgent, from amid the flush Of broken clouds, gay-shifting to his beam. The rapid radiance instantaneous strikes Th' illumined mountain, through the forest streams, Shakes on the floods, and in a yellow mist Far smoking o'er th' interminable plain, ... In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems : Moist, bright, and green, the landscape laughs around.”* And yet Holland is not altogether devoid of picturesque beauty, though it may be somewhat of a negative kind, in her old windmills, rich pasture lands, quaint antique-looking villages and detached buildings, such as Rembrandt delighted to etch, and Ruysdael to paint : most of the pictures, however, by the latter artist, in which rock, and wood, and cascade are blended, were sketched, not in his own country, but on the banks of the Rhine. The Dutch villages stretching along by the side of dull sluggish canals, lined with rows of pollards and other kinds of trees, are objects of agreeable study, particularly when the painter manages to introduce into his sketch two or three of the numerous barges and market-boats, or “schuyts," as they are there called, which are seen continually plying on the water. In this age of ever-shifting locomotion it is quite unnecessary to enter upon a detailed description of what constitutes the chief features of a village in Holland, which country, like almost every other in Europe, has been traversed through its length and its breadth by hundreds and thousands of our fellow-countrymen : they who have not enjoyed such opportunity may form a very accurate idea from the engraving after Callcott's picture. On the right appear some houses under the shadow of thick trees; groups of peasantry are variously engaged in the foreground; on the left is a “schuyt,” manned, if we may be allowed the Hibernicism, by a woman ; beyond this the composition opens, showing the course of a river, with boats, and another village embosomed in trees. Callcott, in this picture, which was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1834, shows how closely he had studied the best works of the best Dutch painters, as well as the atmospheric tints from nature peculiar to the country. There is a sweet, mellow, unobtrusive tone in the colouring that is very charming, and it is so skilfully managed that the eye is at once carried from the rear part to the distance without an effort. There is no straining after effect ; no attempt at artistic display; it is a pure, simple bit of nature. * Thomson. J.OUTRIM ENGRAVER. J.R.HERBERT RA. PAINTER. SIR THOMAS MORE FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY. SIZE OF THE PICTURE SIR THOMAS MORE AND HIS DAUGHTER. ICUL ISTORY is a teacher from which every lesson, whether of good or evil, may be learned ; the painter, therefore, who brings his art to bear upon any great fact that tends to exalt our common nature, or to warn from shoals on which others have made shipwreck, is a benefactor to his A kind. In this picture, by Mr. Herbert, he has selected a passage as m affecting as it is truthful in its simple eloquence; possessing little * material for the powers of an historical painter, yet, from its very simplicity, and from its exhibition of elevated character, it becomes one of exceeding interest. It may admit of question, whether prosperity or adversity tends more to unveil the hidden mysteries of the human heart, and to show it in its true light; but there cannot be a doubt that neither poverty nor riches, disgrace nor honours, have the power to turn aside from the paths of uprightness him who has always endeavoured to walk in them. A dogged in difference to the frowns of fortune, or a sullen submission, is no proof of a great mind; but to bow with quiet resignation to the decrees of Providence, to be cheerful and contented when the clouds have gathered round us, and the storm is descending heavily and pitilessly upon our heads,-threatening utter annihilation ;-these are the attributes which distinguish the man of real worth from the unworthy—the independent from him who is the slave of circumstances. Amiability of temper, dignity of demeanour, and a show of love to one's kind, are easily assumed when the world goes on smoothly, but we are not to judge of real character at such times; we can afford to appear good, and to act wisely, if there is nothing to induce the contrary. The range of history scarcely furnishes us with a more perfect character than that of Sir Thomas More ; humble, when filling the highest office in the state,-_-elevated, when forsaken by all the world. Entering the world with all the advantages of high position, he raised himself yet higher, no less by his integrity than by his superior attainments"; his elegant genius and familiar acquaintance with the noble spirit of antiquity, based on the yet robler spirit of pure religion, gave him very enlarged sentiments and a philanthropy of universal application. He was always attached to theological studies, and at one time thought of taking orders, but finally relinquished the idea, and was called to the bar, where his legal knowledge and his eloquence gained him such distinction, that it is said few cases of importance, during the latter part of UU THE VERNON GALLERY. LI Henry the Seventh's reign, were decided without his being engaged in them. Yet even in this early part of his career, when he was only a member of the lower house of parliament, his independence of court favours brought upon him the displeasure of that monarch, for opposing a subsidy which the king required for private purposes. It is remarkable that a man of More's integrity should ever have been popular with so selfish and tyrannical a ruler as the eighth Henry; the austerity of his virtue and the sanctity of his manners one would have thought a sufficient hindrance to royal favour at the hands of a selfish and licentious king, unscrupulous by what means he attained his desires, and sparing neither friend nor foe, if they seemed to stand in the way of his object. But the monarch and his chancellor, though different in their natures, were both instruments of good, wherewith He, who rules the destinies of nations, works out his own ends. Henry's marriage with Anne Boleyn paved the way for the Reformation; and More's refusal to acknowledge the king's ecclesiastical supremacy, though it cost him his head, irrecoverably broke the temporal power of the Pope in this country. The chancellor was a conscientious Roman Catholic, and, says Hume, “foreseeing that all the measures of the king and parliament led to a breach with the Church of Rome, and to an alteration of religion, with which his principles would not permit him to concur, desired leave to resign the great seal, and he descended from his high station with more joy and alacrity than he had mounted up to it.” What a contrast does his fall present to that of his predecessor on the woolsack, Wolsey; the one a victim to inordinate ambition,- easi “A man of an unbounded appetite, Ever ranking himself with princes ; ” the other, a sacrifice to his honesty and uprightness,— “ doing justice For truth's sake and his conscience:” both of them men of the highest genius, devoted to the interests of their royal master, but the former serving him that he might serve himself—the latter from a sense of dutiful obedience, and enduring disgrace and punishment, rather than act contrary to his conscientious scruples, or what he believed to be the true interest of his country and his sovereign. Fox, in his “ Book of Martyrs," whom Burnet has followed in his “History of the Reformation,” accuses More of exercising cruelty towards the Protestants, a charge which his singular sweetness of temper and amiability of disposition would assuredly negative, had we not the testimony of his friend Erasmus, who certainly was not inclined to overlook the dark side of those unfriendly to the new faith, that “during More's chancellorship no man was put to death on account of his religion ;” and this too in an age when each party that had the power persecuted his opponent, and thought that by so acting he rendered service to the Almighty. It is instructive to follow this exemplary man from the plenitude of his greatness to the room wherein he appears in Mr. Herbert's picture. In the year 1534 he was committed to the Tower by Henry the Eighth, partly to punish him for refusing to assist that monarch in his marriage with 'oom . THE VERNON GALLERY. Anne Boleyn, but more particularly, because, as stated before, he declined to acknowledge the king's ecclesiastical supremacy, as head of the Reformed Church. But even when inhaling an atmosphere, which, at this period especially, was tinged with dark hues of despair and death, More felt that “Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage ;- for he possessed that liberty of mind and elevation of spirit which ever carried him—a freeman, far beyond the bounds of his secluded habitation. And yet to one of a lofty intelligence and social disposition, like his, captivity—even without the probability of a fatal termination, such as More must have anticipated from the relentless character of the king—could scarcely be otherwise than a time of trouble. The laying down the pageantry and idle pomp of rank and office, the exchange of ermine and robes for the plain habiliments of his legal order, and of his beautiful residence in the pleasant village of “Chelsey” for the bare walls of the royal prison-house, would be matters, in themselves, which could not have drawn from him a regret nor a sigh ; they formed no part of his happiness distinct from the power his position gave him of doing good, and acting up to the dictates of his noble and enlarged mind. But the entire suppression of this power was the gall and the wormwood which now embittered his existence, so far as it was possible for one so gentle to be the subject of disquietude. And then, too, the constant separation, except at intervals, from his beloved family, from the companionship of his books, and the society of those friends—kindred spirits with his own—from whom he derived pleasure and profit, were ingredients in his cup of adversity, far more unpalatable than the loss of personal liberty or the degradation from the highest office in the realm. Yet under no circumstances did his habitual equanimity forsake him. “He sported with all the varieties of fortune into which he was thrown; and, neither the pride naturally attending a high station, nor the melancholy incident to poverty and retreat, could ever lay hold of his serene and equal spirit.” * In their several relations, how greatly was the victim to be envied—how much his oppressor to be pitied! The nobility of the captive illumined his dreary cell with a radiance far beyond that which the monarch's banners reflected from the “ Field of the Cloth of Gold,” and which the armour of his knights flung back on the plains of Flodden. The historian, whom we have quoted above, designates More as “an object deserving of compassion,-nothing was wanting to the glory of his end, except a better cause, more free from weakness and superstition.” Hume, however, was ill qualified to sit in judgment upon such a man; he had no religious principles in common with him whom he describes as “weak and superstitious ;” consequently, he was totally unable, legitimately to account for the line of conduct which More pursued in opposition to Henry, or to reason upon those conscientious motives which impelled the chancellor to a course, that he must throughout have seen would ultimately terminate in his ruin. How much soever the purity of a man's life would encourage him to meet death undismayed, and fortify him against its terrors, a violent and sanguinary death on the scaffold, it might DA * Hume. THE VERNON GALLERY. naturally be supposed, would have the effect of awing the sufferer into silent submission. But amid the solemnities of the last hour the cheerfulness and facetiousness of More never forsook him : these characteristics of his nature, as here exhibited, were not the result of indifference, nor did they result from vain-glorying, nor from an unseemly jesting with his fate, but from the heartfelt assurance that inasmuch as death never finds the good man unprepared, so he need not play the coward on its approach. “When he was mounting the scaffold, he said to one, ‘Friend, help me up, and when I am come down again, let me shift for myself.' The executioner asking forgiveness, he granted the request, but told him, “You will never get credit by beheading me, my neck is so short.' Then, laying his head on the block, he bade the executioner stay till he had put aside his beard, 'For,' said he, “it never committed treason.'" * So perished one of the noblest subjects of the eighth Henry. The particular passage in the life of More, which Mr. Herbert has made the subject of his picture, is gathered from the following quotation. “During his imprisonment," says his son-in-law and biographer, Roper, who married his favourite daughter Margaret,—“one day looking from his window, he saw four monks (who also had refused the oaths of supremacy) going to their execution, and regretting that he could not bear them company, said, 'Looke, Megge, dost thou not see that these blessed fathers be now going as cherefully to their deathes as bridegrooms to their marriage ? By which thou mayest see (myne own good daughter,) what a great difference there is between such as have spent all their days in a religious, hard, and penitential life, and such as have (as thy poore father here hath done) consumed all their tyme in pleasure and ease ;' ” and so he proceeded to enlarge on their merits and martyrdom ; “By which most humble and heavenly meditation," writes another of his biographers—his great- grandson, Cresame More, -_-“We may easily guess what a spirit of charity he had gotten by often meditations, that every sight brought him new matter to practise most heroical resolutions.” There is little here to draw forth great expression of character, and yet what more noble expression can the human features take than that which shows them serene and resigned under injustice and the prospect of an untimely death? Erasmus, his friend, says—“With More, you might imagine yourself in the company of Plato;" but the unaffected piety of the former was based on safer and more solid grounds than the philosophy of the Greek, and sustained him under trials to which the latter was not subjected. A calm submission to his fate, whether of life or death, is what we should look for from the character of More, in the circumstances wherein he now stands; so that the melancholy procession to which his eyes are directed is not trouble to him, though foreshadowing, as he believes, his own doom; while to his daughter it is too painful to be looked on. Mr. Herbert has made these relative feelings abundantly manifest in his works, which is altogether an excellent example of one of our best historical painters ; -it is dignified and eloquent. The picture was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1844. . . CV . * Hume. . CROSSING THE STREAM. . bum ro 12 WINTE MAR UR recollection of the works of Calcott, as they successively C a ppeared before the public, extends over a period of nearly a quarter of a century; a space which includes the best years of his practice, and the dates of by far the more numerous portion of his pictures ; yet among them all we cannot call one to mind 200 m in all respects so truly charming as that here engraved, unless mogeleg perhaps it be the truly elegant composition, exhibited at the Royal m Academy in 1842, under the title of “ An English Landscape.” It requires somewhat of a close scrutiny to discover that the picture now before us may not lay claim to a similar title; the subject bears so close a resemblance to what used, not many years back, to be a common custom * in this country; the landscape reminds us of the scenery to be found towards the coasts of Norfolk and Suffolk ; the principal figures have greatly the appearance of English peasants, costumed with a painter's license; and the horses seem of the true Suffolk Punch breed, though of a colour differing entirely from that well-known stock. But the figures in the middle distance to the left, and the church beyond, place the scene, without a doubt, in Holland ; at least it may be presumed the artist so intended it should be considered, though we cannot avoid thinking, from the general treatment of the subject, that when painting it, Calcott had his own country more in mind than the luxuriant, yet fog-begirt, pastures of the Dutch. The precise locality is, however, of little importance, when we seek for beauty rather than position. At the Royal Academy Exhibition in 1834, this picture was catalogued as “Returning from Market :" it has been deemed expedient to alter the title to one which, perhaps, better indicates the subject. The foreground presents a group, which seems composed of a farmer's wife mounted, her daughter leading another horse bearing a young boy, and, apparently, a female farm- servant carrying a basket of poultry and a pail. The background to the left, through the THE VERNON GALLERY. - avenue of trees, shows the road to the village whence they have travelled, and that to the right leads to the farm-house, their probable destination : the space between the figures is occupied by a rather extensive bed of rushes, and the distance stretches away behind these through a flat country to the horizon. The prevailing qualities of this picture are light and air ; the breadth of the former and the transparency of the latter are rendered in a very masterly manner ; even the thick masses of foliage are most luminously painted, and yet without the least sacrifice of power, for the work throughout exhibits more body than we are accustomed to find in Calcott's pictures generally. There is a degree of elegance too in the pose and grouping of the figures, which contributes not a little to its beauty; the respective portions tion are also very nicely balanced, and the eye is judiciously led from the centre—the chief point of interest—to each retiring distance. There is one little point which strikes us as rather a defect; the trunk of the tree behind the dappled horse, and the hind-leg on the near side of the animal, form a line of the same inclination, so as almost to appear parts of the same object; had the horse been placed half a step in advance this would have been obviated. The splash round each of the feet of the same animal makes it seem as if he had brought them all down together into the water at once. These, however, are blemishes scarce worth alluding to in a picture in every way so beautiful as this, which is worthily rendered in Mr. Cousen's admirable engraving. A GREEK GIRL. be 2011 . ON - - 1. 11 . . G . HE name of Charles Lock Eastlake will descend to posterity as that of one of the most accomplished painters of our time; while others may surpass him in vigour and power, he is excelled by none in delicacy of expression, beauty of drawing, graceful, elegant, and refined composition. It is impossible to turn from his works without feeling that they speak to you in a language which comes from the heart, and is directed to the heart, not, however, appealing to its first impulses, but to those that arise from thought and reflection when the mind N o les is most accessible to the influence of good. The character of his pictures is not such as to take the spectator by storm, and fascinate him by their gorgeous combination of subject and colour ; their charm is of that quiet and resistless nature which is of silent but sure growth, easy to comprehend, - and certain of appreciation where the mind is not opposed to the theme * Mr. Eastlake is a native of a county, Devonshire, which has given birth to several of our greatest artists. He was born at Plymouth, and educated at the Charter-house, which he left at an early age to follow the profession of which he has become so distinguished an ornament. He appears to have had his attention ultimately fixed to this by seeing his fellow townsman, Haydon, at work on his picture of “ Dentatus.” Eastlake soon entered the Academy as a student, and studied for a considerable time under Fuseli ; the first picture by the young artist which attracted public notice was “The Raising of Jairus’s Daughter ;” this was bought by a liberal patron of English Art, the late Mr. Jeremiah Harman, who commissioned the artist to go to Paris, and copy for him some of the pictures in the Louvre. Subsequently he visited Italy, Greece, and Sicily, and on returning from the latter island, took up his residence for some time at Rome, where he painted several pictures, the principal of which was, perhaps, his beautiful composition of “Byron's Dream." His favourite subjects at this time appear to have been Grecian and Italian landscapes, into the latter of which he frequently introduced picturesque groups of banditti or of the peasantry of the country. Another of his best works of this period U THE VERNON GALLERI. 2 was “Italian Pilgrims arriving in sight of Rome " now in the gallery of the Duke of Bedford In 1827 Mr. Eastlake was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy, and in 1830, having just then returned from Rome, an Academician. For the last twenty years, the pencil of this artist has been chiefly occupied with a loftier range of art, his greatest pictures being those of sacred subjects, which seem more in harmony with the tone of his mind and his naturally gentle unassuming disposition, than the more stirring incidents of life. Among these works, his “Hagar and Ishmael," “ Christ blessing little Children,” “The good Samaritan," in the Royal Academy exhibition of the present year, and, above all, “ Christ foretelling the Destruction of Jerusalem,” are as elevated in conception, as they are refined in execution. The latter picture being in the “ Vernon Gallery," will afford a better opportunity than the present of descanting on the style and merits of the painter, when our engraving from it is ready to come before the public. But it is not only as an artist that Mr. Eastlake has acquired honourable reputation ; he has education and his practical experience to bear on Art-matters, so as to entitle him to no small share of literary distinction. His “ Translation of Göethe on Colour," is a valuable acquisition to our literature in the department which it embraces ; his “ Materials for the History of Oil-painting” displays unwearied and most extensive research, for which every student in Art ought to feel deeply indebted to him ; while the “ Reports of the Royal Commission,” as its Secretary, will become a text-book for future schools ; neither must his “Notes to Kugler” be passed over without favourable mention. Indeed, his occupations in the field of literature, joined with his public duties, claim much of the time that would otherwise be passed before his easel, and greatly as it is to be deplored that we rarely now see more than one picture in our annual National exhibition with his name appended thereto, there is less cause for regret, when we know the interests of Art are being served by him in other, and perhaps more important ways. The picture entitled “ A Greek Girl ” was most probably painted from a study made when the artist was in Greece ; the face has a pensive expression, but it is very sweet, and is painted in a quiet subdued tone, that well harmonises with the feeling. The arrangement of the hair, head-dress, and costume, is highly picturesque. 11 ON THE WINDMILL. LA My EN y Will B IN . T is very rarely we find an artist equally great in portraiture and in landscape-painting ; the qualities essentially necessary to excel in either department differ so widely from the other that it is no marvel they are seldom combined in the same individual. This difference arises not more from the natural turn of thought and inclination for one particular department of art, than from the varied mode of operation, or, as it may more properly be termed, of manipulation, and from the rules of M y construction or composition, and the knowledge of colours. The difficulty with which the mere portrait-painter has to contend in dealing with landscapes is sufficiently evident in those pictures where they are introduced as back-grounds ; these back- grounds, in general, bearing as little resemblance to nature as it is possible for them to have with any pretension to identity. To be sure, the portrait is the thing most aimed at, and consequently the other portions of the work must be subordinate to it; still there is no reason why, if the painter possessed the power, he should not make every part of his production equally excellent. Rubens and Velasquez are the two most striking examples among the ancient masters of this rare combination of genius ; the landscapes of the former exhibit wonderful power and truth ; and although Velasquez never painted landscapes, strictly so called, yet a large portion of many of his figure subjects is made up of natural scenery, and the back-grounds of his portraits, in numerous instances, occupy no inconsiderable quantity of the canvas, and are put in with exquisite taste and feeling. In our own school it is a question not easily decided in which class Gainsborough shines pre-eminently, so excellent was he in both ; and the same may be said of John Linnell, the painter of “The Windmill,” who is in high repute as a portrait-painter, while the prices demanded and obtained for his landscapes show the estimation in which they are held by the connoisseur. Mr. Linnell is an old and valuable contributor to the Royal Academy and the British Institution ; in the rooms of the former we find, one year, three or four portraits only, and THE VERNON GALLERY. perhaps in the following year as many landscapes. In the Institution his landscapes only are seen, portraits being inadmissible by the rules of that society. The last named works are distinguished by great simplicity of treatment, united with vast depth and brilliancy of colour. His pictures of rural scenery have rarely a name attached to them which would identify them with any particular locality, but, if not actually sketched from nature, they have so much of English character about them as at once to connect them in the mind with the most picturesque spots in the country. The most poetical and imaginative of his works is “The Eve of the Deluge,” exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1848 ; we know of no picture of a similar class that shows a more elevated conception carried out with corresponding grandeur of effect. The sky especially is a wonderful piece of aerial painting, fully realising the sublime words of the poet who furnishes the idea of the composition ;- “ Meanwhile the south wind rose, and with black wings, Wide hovering, all the clouds together drove From under Heaven.* In the little picture of “The Windmill,” the sky also forms a very attractive feature ; a thunder storm is passing over the landscape, and the heavy purple clouds are rolling away into the horizon, and throwing their deep shadows over the middle distance ; the Mill and the rising ground whereon it stands are lighted up with sunshine, but the ground is yet wet and reflects back, in parts, the varied tones of the sky; and the pool in the foreground, where the cattle are drinking, receives light from the white clouds above. There is throughout the picture an intensity of colour, as beautiful as it is natural, painted with extreme solidity, transparency, and decision of touch, yet with infinite delicacy. The scene is altogether one of great beauty : the picturesque old mill and bridge; the village which lies in the hollow, hidden, save the church steeple, by the high ridge of ground ; the river winding its way through the valley till lost among the wooded hills; the herd, hot and thirsty, either already in the pool or hastening to it ;-all compose into as charming a subject as the most ardent admirer of nature could desire to have before him. The picture was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1847. L * Milton, --- ---- . www WWW C. TANDSEER RA PAINTER GA. PERIAM ENGRAVER CLARISSA HARLOWE PEINTED BY WULKAN JIONISON PUBLISHYA POR THE PROPRIETORS CLARISSA HARLOWE. 5 TT AM . . HAT sacred and legendary lore did for the arts of the fifteenth and two following centuries among the nations of the continent, the literature of the dramatist and novelist has done for Art among ourselves since it gained a local habitation with us. It is not intended by this remark to draw a parallel between the two, as if the artist who is indebted to the latter were entitled to share the same elevated rank as he whose genius was called forth by the former ; but simply, to affirm that the pencil of the modern painter finds as ample and as varied employment amid the pages of fiction as did that of the ancient master from sacred writ and classic story. The characters of Shakspeare in the majestic, solemn, and terrible conceptions of tragedy, and in the elegant and humorous fancies of comedy, have over and again, almost without a single exception, appeared on the canvas before us; Otway, Dryden, and Addison, have also occasionally furnished the artist with subjects. Goldsmith has proved a perfect mine of wealth to scores ; the pages of Scott have been ransacked for treasures, from the first line of Waverley, to the last which he penned with unwearied energy amid the shadows of adverse fortune, and many a bright scene and glittering pageant have they yielded ; while Cervantes and Le Sage are perhaps better known to the multitude through the medium of the painter than by the aid of the printing-press. We have here just hinted at the principal fountains whence inspiration has been drawn, but there is a vast number of streams of minor importance that have become tributary to the purposes of art, to which it is needless to refer. . It may fairly be doubted whether many novel readers of the present generation have so much as heard of the work which takes its title from the name of the heroine, “ Clarissa Harlowe ;" and still less probability is there that those who have heard of it could be induced to wade through a tale of fiction that extends to eight volumes, and yet they are worth perusal. Samuel Richardson, their author, was the originator of that class of literature which was followed by Miss Burney, Miss Jane and Miss Anna Maria Porter, Miss Edgeworth, and subsequently by the LIL THE VERNON GALLERY. . I 2 TUU MOI hosts whose names have become familiar to all classes of readers who seek for amusement rather than instruction. He evinced very considerable taste for “story telling” at an early age, for he says that, when at school, his companions made him tell them stories and they were best pleased with those he made out of his own head. “As a bashful and not forward boy I was an early favourite with all the young women of taste and reading in the neighbourhood ; half-a-dozen of them, when met to work with their needles, used, when they got a book they liked, and thought I should, to borrow me to read to them, their mothers sometimes with them; and both mothers and daughters used to be pleased with the observations they put me upon making.” This employment was one well suited to strengthen Richardson's faculty of entering into the feelings of others; it gave him a strong predilection for the society of the opposite sex, and the opportunity of gaining a tolerably clear insight to character and expression ; while his natural taste for authorship was greatly stimulated by his being apprenticed to a printer in London : at the expiration of his term he set up in business for himself in Salisbury Court, Fleet Street, and used occasionally to employ a portion of his leisure time in writing prefaces and dedications, at the request of the publishers, for the works which he printed. His first appearance as an author in his own name, was in the year 1740, whe the first part of “Pamela," in two large volumes, which became at once so popular that five editions of it were demanded within twelve months : where is the more modern nove whose writings this can be said ? But then such kind of literature was new, and, doubtless, excellent as the story unquestionably is, its novelty went far to give it extensive circulation. The tale is founded upon an incident of real life which had come within the writer's knowledge, and he thought that by working up the subject “ in an easy and natural manner, he might possibly turn young people into a course of reading from which the romantic and marvellous might be discarded, and which might tend to promote the cause of religion and virtue." The first part of “Pamela” was speedily followed by the second, but neither then nor since has the latter been considered equal to the former. Throughout the entire volumes there is manifest a spirit of truth, simplicity, and excitement; but at the same time a degree of offensiveness of style and manner that could not be tolerated in our day. Nevertheless it became the rage of the town, and we are told that ladies carried the volumes with them to the then fashionable place of resort, Ranelagh Gardens, and held them up to one another in triumph. Pope said the moral was likely to do more good than twenty sermons, and Bishop Sherlock recommended it from the pulpit! Another circumstance connected with this work was its calling up Fielding into the same class of literature ; his “ Joseph Andrews”” was a burlesque on “Pamela.” . After a lapse of several years, namely in 1748-9, appeared the novel in which Mr. C. Landseer has found a subject" Clarissa Harlowe,” beyond all dispute Richardson's greatest work. The admiration it excited even surpassed that elicited by his former publication, and it was speedily translated both into the French and German languages, so that the author's fame soon extended beyond his own country. The first four volumes appeared some time before the others, but so eager was the public to know the sequel of the story--so strong the hold it ST man THE VERNON GALLERY. II ILI m took of the imaginations of its readers, who seemed completely to identify themselves with the heroine so as to make her troubles their own, that, during the progress of the work, many persons wrote to Richardson requesting him in the most urgent terms to gratify them by such a termination of the plot as they had set their minds upon, declaring that their own happiness depended upon the extrication of Clarissa from the miseries in which he had involved her. Such a furore as this in favour of a fictitious individual would indeed be a novel proceeding in our day of advancement in every department of literature, and one that the most popular writer of the age would feel complimented in receiving. Richardson, though highly flattered by these testimonials to his genius, paid no heed to them, but persevered in carrying out according to his own conceptions his “ deep and noble tragedy of unconquerable and triumphant endurance." Richardson's last great work, “Sir Charles Grandison” is inferior to those already referred to, though exhibiting no little portion of the author's powers of dramatic character and description. Mr. Robert Chambers, in his “Encyclopædia of English Literature,” says, “ The hero of * Clarissa,' Lovelace, is a splendid and accomplished, a gay and smiling villain ; the character of Clarissa Harlowe is one of the noblest tributes ever paid to female virtue and honour. The moral elevation of this heroine, the saintly purity which she preserves amidst scenes of the deepest depravity and the most seductive gaiety, and the never failing sweetness and benevolence of her temper, render Clarissa one of the brightest triumphs of the whole range of imaginative literature. Perhaps the climax of her distress is too overwhelming—too oppressive to the feelings—but it is a healthy sorrow. We see the full radiance of virtue ; and no reader ever rose from the perusal of those tragic scenes without feeling his moral nature renovated, and his detestation of vice increased.” This quotation will serve to give a general idea of the sentiment of the picture here engraved. The scene is a bed-chamber of humble pretensions, which bears about it unmistakable evidence of having been, at some period tenanted by other spirits than that of her now kneeling in prayer, silent and humble ; for there is a rude sketch of a gibbet with a figure hanging, and there are sundry initials scratched on the dilapidated wall, in the corners of which the spider has weaved a giant web; all signs of crime, and misery, and neglect. The time would appear to be early morning, for though the lamp still burns on the mantel-piece, the apartment is not lighted by it, but from the window through which the sunshine is breaking. Clarissa has been writing ; the pen, ink, and paper are still on the table, and fragments of paper lie scattered on the floor; while the bible is open before her, whence she has gathered strength and comfort ere she kneels down to supplicate from heaven, not so much pardon for herself, as mercy for some deeply-loved yet hardened transgressor. The story is evidently one of the heart, and it is rendered with suitable feeling and pathos; the figure being very judiciously and unaffectedly composed, and painted with considerable spirit. This is the only picture by Mr. C. Landseer in the Vernon Collection, and being an early production, it must not be taken as a fair specimen of the artist's ability. He is of a family in whom art appears hereditary, having among them both painters and engravers ; being the son I I S on · THE VERNON GALLERY. of John Landseer, A.E.R.A., and brother of Edwin Landseer, R.A., and of Thomas Landseer, the eminent engraver. The first picture he exhibited was at the Royal Academy, in 1828, the subject, “Dorothea," from Don Quixote : we then lose sight of him till 1832, when he exhibited “Cinderella :" the first work which brought him into prominent notice was, “The Plundering of Basing House by Cromwell,” exhibited in 1836, and afterwards engraved : the following year he sent to the Academy “The Battle of Langside,” which procured him the honour of being elected an Associate, and in 1845 his name was enrolled among the Academicians. Besides the pictures already mentioned, the most important from his easel are “Queen Berengaria supplicating Richard I. for the life of Sir Kenneth ;” “The Pillaging of a Jew's House in the Reign of Charles I.;" “Nell Gwynne;" «The Tired Huntsman,” engraved for the Art-Union Society of London ; “The Temptation of Andrew Marvel ;" “ De Montfort ;" “ The Departure of Charles II. from the House of Colonel Lane ;” “The Monks of Melrose ;" “ The Eve of the Battle of Edgehill,” now in the hands of the engraver ; besides a few others which it is not necessary to refer to, inasmuch as being of very recent date, they must be fresh in the recollection of every visitor of the Royal Academy. Mr. C. Landseer's talents, though not equal to the highest order of historical painting, are very far from mediocre : he studies his subject well, is exceedingly careful in his execution, and rarely fails in producing an attractive and most interesting picture of whatever he undertakes. III - i ti: THE CROWN OF HOPS. - HE south-eastern parts of England, and one or two small districts in the midland counties, present, in their hop-gardens, features of picturesque attraction which are nowhere else to be met with. They are to this country what the vineyards are to the southern SIER · districts of Tirana districts of France, fields of beauty, of fragrance, and in the time of the in-gathering, or of the “hopping," as it is termed, of much joyous merry-making. A day's ride through the “ húrsts,” or (a villages of Kent and Sussex, in the month of September, if the season be not a W late one, is one which a stranger to those localities will not easily forget : the forests of tall poles wreathed round from their very base with the luxuriously climbing plant, which hangs in thick clusters at the top, or sometimes stretches out its long tendrils to the neighbouring poles, so as to form elegánt festoons between them, and a continuous arcade of green, beneath which one may walk sheltered from the heat of an autumnal noonday sun ;-the bright brown bunches of the flowers hanging like immense tassels, and the perfume they yield ;-the preparations for picking, and drying, and packing in the huge pockets,-form altogether a scene having no counterpart, except, as we just intimated, in the time of the vintage. Independent of the picturesque interest attached to such a subject, its nationality would be certain of commending it to the notice of any English artist who had ever witnessed it. The practice of crowning with plants and flowers has been adopted in every age, and in all countries ; the brave and the wise, the innocent and the lovely, the living and the dead, have worn the simple coronet of nature, as an emblem of honour or of affection. - Gather me flowers- I wish to show How pretty they look on the infant's brow ;- Primrose, and harebell, and golden-cup, Into a coronet twisted up :- Bring them from forest and mountain wild, Pure as that innocent little child. 1 THE VERNON GALLERY. - Gather me flowers to wreathe the hair, Fit for a beautiful bride to wear ;- Jasmine, and orange, and roses white, Nurtured mid floods of summer light; Each by its beauty will add a grace, To the blush of love on that maiden's face. Gather me flowers of a sombre hue, — The dull red poppy and night-shade blue ; Nothing of sweetness must ever wave, Over the dark and murky grave :- Childhood and beauty both are fled ; Gather me flowers to dress the dead! The artist has here selected for his picture a little episode in the work of hop-picking, on which, at the proper season, men, women, and children are engaged, and in preparing them for the market. The younger labourers are resting awhile from their task, and a girl, who, from her superior style of dress, we should rather suppose to be a visitor to the garden than a “picker," is decorating a younger child with a chaplet of the golden flowers. The idea is excellent; so also is the manner in which it has been carried out. The faces of all are highly expressive, especially that of the little girl, so full of self-complacency at the honours bestowed upon her; while the smile of amusement assumed by the boy bespeaks his enjoyment of the scene. This group, in all its parts, is admirably painted, and finished with great care ; it is brilliantly coloured, yet with perfect harmony of tones. In the background, to the left, is another group of elder females and lads engaged in their work; and in the distance, to the right, are more figures, also occupied with their labours. The picture is, unquestionably, one of the best ever painted by Mr. Witherington ; since its exhibition at the Royal Academy, in 1843, he has, in a great measure, departed from this class of Art, whereon, however, his ultimate fame must rest, rather than on his landscapes which have succeeded to it. NEM THE DUETT. C IU 15 www DUL a T is somewhat singular that the works of an artist which contain so great elegance of composition, so much poetical feeling, and such an amount of effective treatment, all which are essential to the V production of a good print, should so rarely have come into the engraver's hands. This is mainly attributable to the taste of the public obviously lying in another direction, and having little in common with the refined, though often seemingly voluptuous, style of art practised by Etty. Had he been a native of France, Germany, or Italy, such neglect of his genius would never have been perpetrated; he would have become as widely known, by the aid of IN the engraver, as he is now comparatively unknown to a very large proportion of 9 his fellow-countrymen, simply because the windows of our print-shops tell little of such a master having lived and died among us. And it may fairly be doubted whether this acknowledgment of his great talents will ever, now, be made; it would be too much to expect that what was denied to the living painter will be granted to the dead, for it is an incontro- vertible fact that, though the value of his pictures rises with the death of an artist, his popularity with the multitude passes away, in a great measure, with him ; others rise up to occupy the vacant place, and become the magnet of attraction. If any doubt exists as to the truth of this statement it may readily be tested by comparing the number of visitors to an exhibition of pictures by deceased masters—not merely those of the ancient schools, as they are termed-with the crowds that attend our galleries of living artists. Who, at the present time, except a few collectors and amateurs, knows or cares anything for the prints after Hogarth, once so universally popular; or the numerous fine historical plates executed by Woollett, and Sharpe, &c.; or those which Boydell and Macklin published at such great cost, after the best artists of their time ? An exception to this general rule may perhaps be made in the case of Wilkie, and probably in that of E. Landseer also, who will doubtless retain their popularity for very many years to come, but there is not another name of whom as much may be predicted. · As regards Etty, no 1 VII THE VERNON GALLERY. they who possess his choicest pictures will treasure them up among the noblest productions of modern art, but we must not expect to see them added, in any considerable number as engravings, to the portfolios of the collector, or ornamenting the walls of our English homes. It is therefore fortunate that, through the engravings from the “ Vernon Gallery,” thousands will have the opportunity of possessing some examples of this painter's rich and accomplished mind. The collection contains nearly a dozen specimens, varying, of course, in interest, but all possessing features of high importance. “The Duett," in subject and treatment, at once carries away the thoughts to that land- “Where lutes in the air are heard about, And voices are singing the whole day long ; And every sigh the heart breathes out Is turned, as it leaves the lips, to song." It is quite evident, from many of Etty's pictures, that he learned, in Italy, not only how to imitate the colouring of the great Venetian masters, but how to select such subjects as would best enable him to put forth the knowledge he had acquired. This little work might have been painted by Titian or Giorgione, so completely is it Venetian in character. The figures are placed on a kind of elevated terrace, such as are frequently to be found in the country residences of the higher Italian classes ; they are beguiling the hours, when evening is passing into night, with music ; the cavalier and the lady sing a duett, which the latter accompanies on her lute, the black page holding the music-score before them. On a marble slab to their left are refreshments -fruits and a flagon of wine ; and to their right is seen a little bit of open country, which gives distance and atmosphere to the composition. There is a beautiful harmony of tints in this picture, which has become very mellow in tone since it was painted. The balance of colours is also most effectively arranged by being repeated with some slight variations on different objects ; thus the crimson of the shawl hanging over the balustrade, is repeated in the centre feather of the cavalier's cap; and the green in the lower part of the lady's dress, in another feather. The richer hues of the fruit tend greatly to keep down those of the draperies, so as to preclude them from offering too strong a glare to the eye ; while the whole subject is well brought forward against a sky and distance fading into the purple grey of twilight. J. COUSEN ENGRAVER STANFIELD.R.A. PAINTER LAKE OF COMO. FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY SIZE OF THE PICTURE 2. ET. GINBY LIGY IN PRINTED BY E BEAN THE LAKE OF COMO. TALY is a vast and comprehensive field for contemplation — a store-house of rich associations, wherein one acquainted with the world's history, past or present, cannot fail to find ample food for meditation—a land in which even he who knows nothing of what it once was, may find room and verge enough for the pursuit of every rational enjoyment. The statesman and politician, when surveying it, are carried back to its former period of greatness, and wonder how a people still in possession of the records, tokens, and traditions of that power which gave to their ancestors the dominion of the universe, and whose watch-word was “Liberty," should now be enrolled amongst the most enervated and slavish of Christendom. The philosopher ponders over those causes which have shackled the mind of Italy, as they have paralysed her arm, so that intellect and action are both impotent for good ; while he who looks higher still, and remembers that here the earliest founders of the Christian religion taught its simple, pure, and loving precepts, marvels these should have given place to the superstitious tyranny of what is little better than civilised heathenism. History affords us no parallel instance of a nation retaining, through many centuries, the elements of all that ought to make and that once did make it-great, and yet destitute of one spark of its former spirit ; sleeping listless and inert amid the fragments of a glory which has made her name immortal, or leaving to the stranger the task of resuscitating her buried honours, and holding them up for the admiration and the instruction of the world. It is impossible for any one possessed of a thinking mind to travel through this land, so richly endowed by Nature, and so full of noble recollections, without being in some degree impressed with them; such impressions, of course, taking the shape most in unison with the feelings, or most habitual to the thoughts, or which would naturally be suggested by a knowledge of the historical events connected with the precise locality visited—and where, in Italy, can the foot tread on what is not consecrated ground? For though the peasant now dresses his vine and his olive where the legions of the Cæsars once marched, and the edifice of more recent date has now superseded the THE VERNON GALLERY. temple of antiquity, their early memories are not lost. “We build,” says an anonymous writer, with an eloquence and a truth that all must admit—“We build upon the ruins of our buried joys as the Italians have built over the ruins of Herculaneum. The lava of time encrusts the scenes that have gone by, and upon it we raise for ourselves new homes, new friends, new hopes, new means of enjoyment. Yet it is not therefore that all which has been has ceased to be. Beneath the brightness of the present hour the city of the past lies hid ; and still in silence and solitude, or even at intervals in the business of life, will memory descend into that quiet world, to wander again through the deserted streets, amid the homes of the absent and the dead.” But putting aside all claims that Italy has, on account of her ancient greatness, to our veneration, they who love Art, as well as they who practise it, must acknowledge her hereditary title to their highest regard, for what is not only the work of her own hand, but for the beauties so profusely lavished upon her by the hand of Nature. We use the term “hereditary,” because since she became a part of the civilised world, through all her various vicissitudes, and even now, when she stands a mere wreck of all her former grandeur, she has not failed to exhibit some symptoms of animation, and some traces of long departed worth ; wherefore if all power is lost to play the conqueror, she may conscientiously assume the character-more peaceful and more adapted to the spirit of our own times—of a great teacher of Art. Such she for centuries past, has been found, and it is hoped, will be found, for many more to come; and hence, few artists, of whatever other country, consider their Art-education complete until they have visited the land which has especially become the School of Art. And if artists go not thither to learn, they go to see, and to bring away with them such records of her internal beauty as they require for their own purpose. Italy is visited, perhaps, less by the English landscape-painter than by the historical painter, and the sculptor. The first generally finds all that he desires nearer home. Stanfield, however, is one among the few exceptions to this rule, for he has often been engaged along her picturesque shores and her classically ornamented lakes. We have a preference for his pictures which may strictly be called “ marine subjects,” his picturesque Dutch galliots and luggers ploughing up the Northern Seas with their broad heavy bows, and dashing from their bright brown sides, water as fresh, sparkling, and animated, as artist ever painted. Still his pictures of Italian scenery are every way worthy of his reputation ; many of them eminently beautiful. The Lake of Como, well known to many English tourists in Italy, is one of the most picturesque of the country. It was known to the Romans by the name of Larius, and is referred to by Virgil : DU “ Anne lacus tantos ? te, Lari maxime."* Georgica, Lib. ii., v. 159. , On its banks stood many splendid country seats of the old Romans; among them, it is said, that of the elder Pliny. * “Our spacious lakes; thee, Larius first.”—Dryden's Translation. r Owl CC scene THE VERNON GALLERY, A living poet of our own country has sketched the scenery of this spot, in very beautiful language :-- “I love to sail along the Larian Lake Under the shore--tho' not, where'er he dwelt,* To visit Pliny; not, in loose attire, When from the bath or from the tennis-court, To catch him musing in his plane-tree walk, Or angling from his window :- * * * -30 I sit still And let the boatman shift his little sail, Well pleased with all that comes. The morning air Plays on my cheek, how gently, flinging round A silvery gleam; and now the purple mists Rise like a curtain ; now the sun looks out; Filling, o'erflowing with his glorious light This noble amphitheatre of hills; And now appear as on a phosphor-sea Numberless barks, from MILAN, from PAVIA ; Some sailing up, some down, and some at rest ; Lading, unlading, at that small port-town Under the promontory—its tall tower And long flat roofs, just such as GASPAR drew, Caught by a sun-beam starting through a cloud, A quay-like scene, glittering and full of life, And doubled by reflection.” ROGERS's “ Italy." LUL It would almost appear as if the poet had described the scene from Stanfield's picture, so accurately do his lines correspond with the painter's sketch. It is in the Lombardo-Venetian territories that this lake is situated—a noble piece of water, long, narrow, and winding, full of promontories (like that seen in the picture), gulfs, and small bays. Its most northerly extremity forms a sort of distinct lake, called Laghetto, and joined to the other part by a narrow channel. At this junction the River Adda enters it on the e then extends nearly due south for about fifteen miles, after which it divides into two branches ; one runs about eighteen miles to the south-west, and retains the name of Lake of Como, the city of this name being at its extremity; the other branch runs south- east for twelve miles, and is called the Lake of Lecco, from the town of a similar name, whence the Adda issues out of the lake. The breadth of the lake is very unequal; towards the middle, just beyond the separation of the two branches, it is about three miles, but in most other places it is only between one and two miles. The mountains which encompass the basin of the lake are portions of the Rhætian Alps, but between these and the water, in many places, are small valleys intersected with streams which empty themselves into the lake, so that the whole locality is one of the most beautiful and healthy to be found in Italy. The climate is exceedingly * “Hujus in littore plures villæ meæ.”—Epist. IX. 7. THE VERNON GALLERY. SCO SW II mild and genial, the soil produces fruits and vegetables in abundance, and the neighbouring country is studded with thriving villages, and the villas of noble and wealthy families. The city of Como stands, as already stated, at the south-western extremity of the lake, about twenty-two miles from Milan ; it is the capital of the province, and is surrounded by hills on which are several old castles. We observed in the former part of this brief notice, that there is scarcely a spot of ground in Italy unconnected with some historical event. Como is the Comum of the Romans, and is said to owe its origin to the Orobii, the oldest known inhabitants of the country. In the year 196 B.C., it was occupied by the celebrated Roman General M. C. Marcellus, the opponent of Annibal, and the conqueror of Syracuse, after his defeat of the Gauls. Strabo, the father of Pompey, sent a colony to Comum, and it is said that Cæsar did the same; among those that migrated thither by order of the latter were numerous Greeks of distinguished families; hence several names of places in the vicinity appear to be derived from the Greek, and Greek inscriptions have also been met with in the neighbourhood. After the fall of the Roman empire it underwent many changes till it was taken and burned by the Milanese in 1127; it was subsequently built by degrees where it now stands. The city of Como is not large, but it contains several handsome edifices; the cathedral, erected during the middle ages, is reckoned among the finest churches of Italy; the exterior is cased with white marble. The church of St. Fidele is of still more ancient date and is remarkable for its architecture. The palace of the Giovio family, called Ædes Joviæ, has a number of ancient inscriptions placed under its portico and round the court, while that portion of the suburb of the city, which stretches along the lake, contains several fine palaces of the nobility; the most distinguished being that called Dell Olmo, belonging to the family of the Odescalchi, one of whom filled the Papal chair, under the title of Innocent XI. The picture painted by Mr. Stanfield is a small and comparatively early work, but it is one of high character, and is marked by a soft and low-toned brilliancy. The water is tranquil and transparent, and the distant mountains, described with singular truth, are seen through an atmosphere painted with great delicacy. The work, altogether, exhibits those excellent qualities which the artist has subsequently put forth in such rich abundance, in his numerous representations of Italian scenery. DI A HIGHLAND COTTAGE. i wa . 1 . . . LL n 110 HERE must be few travellers through the Highlands of Scotland, especially among those who adopt the best method of exploring a country, namely, on foot, who have not witnessed some such scene as that which the artist has here depicted. The cleanliness, comfort, and orderly arrangement generally found in the English cottage are rarely to be seen in the dwellings of the Scotch mountaineer or the Irish peasant. Much of this may undoubtedly be attributed to his poverty, but much also to his habits. A Highland“ cottage” scarcely aspires to the dignity of such a title ; it is simply a “cot,” consisting of one or two rooms, with clay, and sometimes granite, walls, roofed in with heather or straw, having a hole in the centre through which the smoke from the wood or peat-fire escapes, as seen in the engraving. The internal light it receives is, ordinarily, by the open door, or perhaps by a chink or a small window let in at some part of the sides. The roof is generally supported on the inside by one or two upright thick poles, and sometimes the trunk of a tree, when growing ; the fact of a tree being well situated for the purpose, being a sufficient inducement for the erection of the dwelling ; in such case all the upper branches are lopped off. Adjoining, is frequently a “byre ” or shed for the cow. The usual furniture may be judged of by Mr. Fraser's picture, which affords a pretty correct idea of what the cottage holds; two or three chairs, a table, the spinning-wheel, a cradle for the “ bairns," the rough bed in the corner, and a few humble domestic utensils, make up the sum total of its contents. But notwithstanding the absence of almost everything which seems essential to the common comforts of life, there is an extraordinary amount of contentment to be found in these lowly habitations, and an hospitable welcome for the wayfarer, who needs such assistance as the “cottiers” can give. It must be granted that the social change which, within the last few years, has taken place in the British Islands, has extended itself to the most remote parts of the country, so that even na IT T ! - - - - - -- - - - THE VERNON GALLERY. SOS JI the peculiar features of character by which the hardy clansmen of the mountains of Scotland were formerly distinguished, are rapidly becoming effaced before the inroads. of modern innovation, Civilisation and more frequent intercourse with their southerly neighbours are doing their work among a people who, though possessed of a Bible in almost every hut, and having the simple doctrines of the Christian religion preached to them on the hill-sides, and under the shadows of the mountains in the glens, were, by comparison, but semi-barbarous. Whether their moral and intellectual character will advance equally with the improvement of their social condition, is a question which will admit of argument, for it cannot be denied that the Highlander, for very many years past, has deservedly had the reputation of possessing a larger share of mental acquirement,—the result of education,—than falls to the lot of most others, in a similar condition of life. And if the annals of his history are charged with many a foul and savage deed, much of it is to be traced, not to a naturally cruel and heartless disposition, but to his affection for his clan, and his more intense feeling for the inhabitants of his own rude habitation; while his mode of life, full of enterprise and adventure, and free from the toil incidental to mere handicraft and in-door labour,-gave full scope to the development of passion and imagination. There may be more of sentiment than reason in the regret one feels in knowing that a great change has come over a people whose former history records much of the romance, and the poetry of life, united with the practice of its more lofty and its holier duties; but there are few, it is believed, who cannot, in some degree, share with us such regret. Time may, perchance, at some distant day, substitute the comfortable Saxon cottage for the Celtic hut, yet leave its occupants no higher in the scale of moral elevation, than when the latter stood rugged and exposed to every blast of the tempest. Mr. Fraser, himself, we believe, a native of the northern parts of Scotland, has represented with much truth one of these Highland homes. There is, of course, in such a scene few points of attraction to the painter, unless by the introduction of some domestic incident. Here the artist has brought forward a young bare-legged urchin left in charge of the “wee-bit bairn" and the "seething pot,” while the elders of the family are most probably engaged in their out-door occupations; the little fellow seems to have fallen asleep himself while rocking the other to its slumbers. The light falls on the centre of the picture, sideways, from the open door in the further compartment, and it is rendered more forcible on the surrounding objects by the huge log which, placed in shadow, comes out in strong relief against it. Mr. Fraser generally selects subjects connected with Scottish history, public or domestic, for his pictures, and always treats them with success. LITY THE CHURCH OF ST. PAUL, ANTWERP. #ti UI LA K , OLLAND and Belgium are countries through which the man of taste and the lover of Art can never tire to travel, so multitudinous are the objects that on every side draw forth his attention and admiration. It has been asserted that trade and commerce are opposed to the free growth of the fine and liberal Arts : it is generally presumed that men whose minds are incessantly occupied in accumulating wealth have the little inclination to patronise, and less ability for discriminating, the o talents of those whose genius leads them to forego the ledger and the cash-book, for the palette, the chisel, or the architect's square-rule. But the supposition is altogether erroneous ; while the merchantmen of the Venetian and the Genoese Republics were floating in every port of the globe, where they could find a market for their freights, their owners were hanging the walls of their residences, and decorating their churches with the noblest productions of Italian Art: while the fleets of Holland were sweeping the Northern Seas, and making a highway of the ocean for the safe conduct of her less warlike vessels, the two Van de Veldes were sketching their marine subjects, and Cuyp, Wynants, and Wouvermans were equally busy among the pastures and châteaux of the country, and Rembrandt was painting portraits of Dutch burgomasters. While, too, the clothiers of Brabant and Flanders were filling their market-halls with cloths of woollen, and stuffs, and velvets, Rubens and Teniers, and a host of others, were receiving the homage due to their great genius, and producing works that will ever make their names illustrious. And to come nearer home, we find, in our own day, that the merchants of Liverpool and London, the cotton-manufacturers of Manchester, the cloth-merchants of Leeds, and the metal-workers of Birmingham and Sheffield, have both the knowledge to appreciate, and the will and power to acquire, the best works of the English painter. The fact is, that trade and commerce produce wealth, and wealth brings forth and fosters genius, if not for its own sake, for the privilege of being a patron—an unworthy motive where it exists, but not the less necessary and useful to him on whom it is exercised. LI THE VERNON GALLERY. A country that is poor can afford nothing for luxuries, and all Art being a luxury, it flourishes or decays according to the encouragement received by means of the public or private purse. Such encouragement is a tolerably safe index to the prosperity of a nation, though many causes may operate, at certain periods, to arrest the progress of Art, or to keep it low, especially among a people wholly dependent upon commercial operations and subject to their fluctuations. And thus it is that painting, and architecture, and sculpture, become associated with history, forming landmarks, as it were, by which future chroniclers are enabled to estimate the m and physical greatness of a country-symbols of her internal tranquillity and order-evidences of the power and independence of her social condition, and monuments of nobler victories than the greatest conqueror ever won. Rome would never have been the shrine to which so many pilgrimages have been made, had she nothing more to attract than her Capitoline hill, and “The place where the Cæsars in purple sat." The artist who journeys into Holland and Belgium goes thither, principally, for the purpose of studying the pictures of the Dutch and Flemish schools which are located there, or to sketch the noble churches and picturesque old buildings abounding on all sides, especially in the latter kingdom. Every town, and almost every village of Belgium is full of fine subjects for the architectural draughtsman; but the glory of the land, unquestionably, is Antwerp, and the glory of Antwerp is its maguificent Cathedral, containing the master-piece of Rubens,—“The Descent from the Cross,”—a work held in such veneration, that, when the troops of revolutionary France bombarded the town, orders were given that no shot nor shell should be fired against the Cathedral, lest the picture should sustain injury. There are numerous other edifices in Antwerp, both public and private, picturesque in themselves and interesting for the treasures of Art which they hold, by Rubens, the two Teniers, Van Dyk, Jordaens, Quintin Matsys, &c., all of whom were natives of the place, and are still honoured in having it the depository of their choicest works, though a large number were removed by Napoleon when he held possession of the town, and some have never since been restored to it. Among the changes the first French Revolution wrought upon those countries that succumbed to its influence, was the suppression of the monastic and ecclesiastical establishments. Previously to this the “Church of St. Paul, at Antwerp," was known as the Church of the Dominicans, from being attached to a convent of that religious order. We have no authentic account of the time when the church was built, nor by whom, nor is there anything very remarkable in its external appearance. But the engraving from Mr. Roberts' picture shows that internally there is much to admire, and till the period just referred to, it contained many valuable pictures. The list which Descamps, in the middle of the last century, gives, will show the havoc made by the French among the treasures of Art here, although it is but fair to state that at the peace of 1814 many of them came back, yet not to their original places ; the Museum in his time. THE VERNON GALLERY. On entering by the little door from the side of the “Calvary,"* was a fine picture ascribed to the elder Teniers, entitled “ The Seven Acts of Mercy ;” on the right of the nave was “The Adoration of the Magi,” by A. Jansens ; two pictures, placed against the transepts, represented “The Adoration of the Shepherds,” and “ The Presentation in the Temple ;” they are ascribed to M. Pepin, a painter of Antwerp, whose excellence is said to have excited the jealousy of Rubens : another picture hung near these, “The Decollation of St. Paul,” by Boyermans. Over the sacramental altar was a noble composition, by Rubens, “ The Assembling of the Council ; ” and by the altar, on the right entrance to the choir, a “Dead Christ, supported by Mary Magdalene, St. John, and Angels,” painted by G. de Crayer, another of the contemporaries of Rubens. At the altar of St. Dominic was a picture, likewise by de Crayer, which represented the Saint undergoing self-discipline, sustained by an angel, while the Virgin is seen descending from Heaven, accompanied by other saints. A picture copied by Quertenmont, after Caravaggio, placed over the altar of Ste. Rosa,t showed “St. Dominic distributing Rosaries to the People." Below the transepts, on the left, was an “ Adoration of the Shepherds,” attributed to Rubens, but supposed, by Descamps, to be the work of T. Van Loon; and beyond these were six pictures, describing the history of Ste. Rosa, painted by Boyermans, and four marine subjects, by J. Peters. To the left, in the nave, hung four pictures of scenes in the life of Christ, “The Annunciation," by Van Balen, and the others by Jordaens, Mastaert, &c. ; here, also, was another of the grand works of Rubens, “The Scourging of Christ,” now removed to another part of the church, and rarely shown to visitors ; but a good copy, by Van Trendyck, is exhibited in its stead. A picture of “ Christ bearing His Cross," by Van Dyk, also hung here. Over the high altar, seen in the engraving, where a modern picture of no very high merit --a “Descent from the Cross,” by C. Cels—now stands, was placed a fine picture by Rubens representing “ Christ, with a Thunder-bolt in his hand,” which he is about to launch over a crowd of sinners; the Virgin, St. Dominic, and a host of Saints, male and female, are introduced into the work : it is now placed in the Museum of Brussels. In the Sacristy was a picture by Van Dyk, of “ The Crucifixion," introducing S. Rosa, St. Dominic, and Angels. . Of all these numerous works, those only that now remain in the church are the four scenes in the life of our Saviour, by Van Balen, Jordaens, &c. the “ St. Dominic,” after Caravaggio ; the “Council,” by Rubens; the “Seven Acts of Mercy;" Van Dyk’s “ Christ bearing his Cross ;” the “Adoration,” by Rubens; the “ Crucifixion,” by Jordaens ; and an historical subject from the 111 * “On the outside of St. Paul, or the Dominican church entrance in the Rue des Soeurs Noires, is an object deserving notice, only as illustrative of the Romish religion. It is a representation of Calvary-an artificial eminence raised against the walls of the church, covered with slag or rockwork, and planted with statues of saints, prophets, and patriarchs. On the summit is the Crucifixion, and at the bottom is a grotto, copied or imitated, it is said, from the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem. On entering it, the body of Christ is seen encircled with vestments of silk and muslin, while to the face of the rock, near the entrance, are attached boards carved and painted to represent the glowing flames of Purgatory, in the midst of which appear a number of faces, bearing the expression of agony, and intended to remind the spectator of the sufferings of the souls of the wicked in that place of torment.”-MURRAY'S “ Handbook of Northern Germany." + The story of Ste. Rosa is a legend of Bollandus and his followers. Bollandus was a learned Flemish Jesuit, who, in conjunction with others, wrote a most voluminous work, entitled " The Lives of the Saints." He died in 1665. THE VERNON GALLERY, life of St. Norbert, by de Crayer, which Descamps does not notice; possibly it was not there in his time. There is also a fine statue in marble, of “Ste. Rosa," either by A. Quellyn or Duquesnoy, for authorities differ on the point. The interior of the “ Church of St. Paul” is altogether fine; it is lofty, and light in its style of architecture ; marble has been principally used in it. The windows of the choir exhibit passages in the life of the saint to whom it is dedicated ; they were designed and painted by A. Diepenbeke. A Confessional, by Verbruggen, in the style of the Renaissance, is regarded as the finest piece of sculpture in wood in Belgium-a land eminently rich in examples of such works of Art. The view selected by Mr. Roberts for his picture shows, of course, the most important and picturesque portion of the interior—the choir, with its richly carved stalls, and the high altar of marble with its columns, sculptured by H. Verbruggen, who also executed the fine figure of “St. Paul,” which is seen above the altar-piece. These ornamental works were given to the convent by Capello, Archbishop of Antwerp, who, when he had paid the sculptor for his labours, presented him, at the same time, with an elegant silver ewer and dish, in testimony of his great satisfaction; an act of munificence honourable to both parties. We consider this picture one of the finest that the artist has painted; it has an air of lightness about it corresponding with the elegance of the sacred edifice; and this lightness is in no degree impaired by the rich, dark, wood-carvings of the stalls. The manipulation is free and easy, while a nice distinction has been preserved in imitating respectively the wood and the marble; to the latter, especially, the most beautiful polish has been given, on the pavement. The church is filling with a number of figures, habited in the costumes of the middle of the seventeenth century, most of them dressed as Spaniards, Antwerp being, at the time when the church was in its highest state of grandeur, much resorted to by the nobles and merchants of Spain. This picture was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1849 ; it was painted expressly for Mr. Vernon. ese 7 SITT LAWRENCE PRAPANTER. TAARIITT ENOHAVER THT COUNTESS FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY IDONEITASED FOR THE PROPRIETORS THE COUNTESS. III CULL T De HIS is an unfinished work, the commencement of a full-length portrait of the Dowager Countess of Darnley. The head only is painted ; and it is probable that Lawrence would have done little more to the face, as it was his general practice to get such portions of his pictures nearly completed before he proceeded to the other parts of the figure. The colouring of this picture is very brilliant ; and, although it was painted during the last year of his life, it o shows no decline of those powers which gained for him so wide-spread and well merited a reputation ; it is full of sweetness and of animated expression. No painter was ever better adapted by his peculiar talent and disposition to depict feminine grace and elegance, than Lawrence; it has been said that “the on a blandishments of his pencil were only equalled by those of his tongue.” Hence his female portraits possess such qualities which, from their very nature, we have no right to look for in those of the opposite sex; while, on the other hand, the latter are in a manner deficient in that one quality-dignity—which is essential to the subject. Let any one mark well the line of portraits in the Gallery at Windsor ; and, with perhaps the exception of that of the Earl of Liverpool, there is not one characterised by the nobility of expression which distinguishes the works of Vandyke and Reynolds. The portraits of Pope Pius and Lord Castlereagh are masterly productions, beautifully painted, full of life and individuality ; but there is an absence of mind, for which no other excellencies can in our judgment atone. This defect arose, probably, from a desire to produce an indubitable resemblance, to effect which he laboured upon the drawing of each feature with the greatest care and with the most refined taste ; and when he had produced a likeness which could not fail to please by a certain amount of living expression, he was regardless of imbuing it with the attribute of thought. We have always felt when looking at Lawrence's portraits, that we are charmed, but not satisfied. When Lawrence first came to London from Bath, where his family resided, he was introduced to Sir Joshua Reynolds, from whom he received great encouragement and much sound advice. THE VERNON GALLERY. erro The veteran president recommended the young painter “not to imitate the old masters so as to give a richness of colour rather than the ordinary hues of nature, but to paint what he saw ; ne time he was not to fall into the common error of making things too like themselves." This advice Lawrence seems to have acted upon; hence we see in his pictures great brilliancy of colouring, yet closely allied with truth, to gain which he frequently sacrificed what constitutes the highest charm of beauty,--and indeed without which beauty is a mere inanity—character. The picture here engraved was purchased by Mr. Vernon at the sale, by Christie and Manson, of Lawrence's unfinished works. C. BANT LAR SARAWCAM.COTTRA PAINTER THE PORT OF LEGHORN. FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY. THE PORT OF LEGHORN. G N appending the above title to this picture, we adopted that by which the work was known when in Mr. Vernon's possession,-in fact, as it was described in his catalogue ; but we have strong reason for believing th at the view is not that of Leghorn, but of the entrance to Pisa from Leghorn. A picture so named was exhibited at the Royal Academy, by Callcott, in 1833, and it is presumed that it is this work which passed into the hands of Mr. Vernon, though there is no authentic 4 d e evidence of the fact ; for, singularly enough, none of the painter's surviving VP family have been able to throw any light upon the subject. Another inference M i n favour of our opinion is, that the catalogues of the Academy contain no record s eg of Callcott having ever exhibited a picture of THE PORT OF LEGHORN. It is remarkable that such a mistake should have occurred, and still more so that it should have been retained ; as among the numerous visitors to Mr. Vernon's rooms during his lifetime, there must have been many acquainted with the two cities who could have pointed out the error (for an error it unquestionably is); the geographical position of these places respectively, and the topography of each, put the matter beyond dispute ; added to which we have the testimony of Mr. Uwins, R.A., the keeper of the National Gallery, and of the Vernon Pictures, who has himself visited both these cities; he says the picture is a view of Pisa, and he has so described it in the catalogue of the Gallery. It is right to mention, that our attention was not directed to the matter until the engravings were all printed off, so that it was not possible to rectify it on the plate ; but as we are not desirous of perpetuating what we know to be incorrect, we have entered into this somewhat lengthened explanation. Pisa is considered, next to Florence, the finest town in Tuscany; it stands about thirteen miles north of Leghorn, and about four miles from the sea-coast. It was supposed by some of the old Roman authors, such as Pliny, Strabo, and Virgil, to have been originally a colony of the Greeks, from whom it passed into the hands of the Etruscans, and then into those of the THE VERNON GALLERY. successive conquerors of Italy. From the commencement of the eleventh century till about the year 1406, Pisa was an independent state, of republican form, and governed by its own consuls ; in the latter year it fell under the dominion of Florence, and, with one short exception, has so continued to the present time. The population of Pisa, which at one time exceeded 100,000 inhabitants, now scarcely numbers 20,000. The circumference of its walls is about six miles ; the quays along the Arno and several of the streets are wide, well paved, and lined with handsome edifices; but the town has the appearance of being deserted, and grass grows in some of its highways. Leghorn was formerly the port whence Pisa derived her maritime wealth ; but the influence which the two cities possessed respectively, and with reference to each other, has undergone a complete transmutation. The most remarkable buildings in Pisa, are the Cathedral, the Baptistry, the Belfry or Leaning Tower, and the Campo Santo or Cemetery. The first of these contains fine pictures by Andrea del Sarto, Razzi, Salvator Rosa, Luti, Roselli, Reminaldi, and many other masters, as well as a number of valuable sculptures, by Giovanni di Pisa, Giovanni da Bologna, &c. It has also a splendid pavement of marble of various colours. The Baptistry which is detached from the church, is ornamented with numerous sculptures; the pulpit in particular being considered the masterpiece of Nicolo Pisano. The Campo Santo has an arcade running all round the interior, the walls of which are decorated with frescoes by Giotto, Orgagna, Memmi, &c.; but the majority are greatly damaged, and many of them are entirely o buildings to which reference is made, are grouped near one another in a large open space at the western extremity of the town, and a little to the left of the view which Callcott has here taken. The bridge seen in the picture is one of three crossing the Arno, which river divides the town into two parts. There are many other churches and buildings of interest besides those alluded to, which our space does not permit us to enlarge upon. A reference to the dimensions of this picture shows it to be of considerable size ; but the scene is such as fully justifies its representation on a large scale, and the combination of water with the classic architecture of Italy is precisely that character of material with which the artist so ably dealt. The view is here taken under the effect of a warm sunny evening; but it is painted in sober tones and with much delicacy, for even those parts left in deep shadows reflect the clear mellow tints of a southern atmosphere. There is little positive colour noticeable in the work, except in some of the figures, and even these are kept down so as not to disturb the general harmony of the picture. The engraver has caught, in an unusually happy manner, the beautiful aerial tone which Callcott has given to his subject, whose pencil when engaged on Italian scenery seems ever to have been influenced by the delicate softness of an Italian atmosphere : this is the great charm of his painting, and which he was able to produce without the sacrifice of power. m 2 DI n 90 SIR T). WILKIE, PAINTER C.W.SHARPW ENGRAVER. THE PEEP O' DAY BOY'S CABIN. FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY PRINTED SIDS ------ THE PEEP O’DAY BOY'S CABIN. ? . . E 11 W UI E may point to this picture as among the best of those which show the style Wilkie adopted towards the close of his practice ; a can comparison of this work with that of his “ Village Festival,” in Alo A D another room of Malborough House, exhibits so wide a difference of QR LAUSN subject and treatment, that it is scarcely possible to believe them to be the productions of the same mind and hand; for while the latter picture has the delicacy and finish of a Teniers, the former is painted 42 with great boldness of handling and unusual breadth of effect. Wilkie went to Ireland in 1835, returning with a portfolio full of valuable sketches, from which, however, he painted but two pictures, this and “The Whiskey Still." the None who have studied the history of that unhappy country for the last twenty or five-and-twenty years are ignorant of the class who, known by the name of “Peep o' Day Boys,” or “White-boys, ” kept certain counties of Ireland in constant fear and excitement by the crimes and outrages committed in the kind of guerilla warfare they carried on. It is no part of our duty to enter into the politics of this period—that dark page in the annals of the country which is not yet completed, and which will never be faithfully chronicled so long as religious feuds and hostile factions prevail. When Wilkie visited Ireland, Whiteboyism existed to a frightful extent, and it may be presumed that it suggested to him the idea of sketching one of the dwellings of these bold partisans ; but it is our belief that what he has here given us is rather imaginative than an actual reality, so far, at least, as the “Cabin” appears. This seems to be cut out of a rock, probably at the foot of a mountain, but our acquaintance with the country informs us that the Irish cabin so constructed is rarely to be met with. Internally, however, it exhibits all the characteristic features of the dangerous employment wherein its inmates are engaged; the “ Peep o' Day Boy” has returned home after his night's adventure, for the daylight has broken over the horizon ; he has thrown himself on the floor of the cabin, and has fallen asleep, with his fire-arms by his side, to guard against surprise ; 1 16 THE VERNON GALLERY. his wife keeps watch by him, and another female seems to have just entered to give notice of impending danger ; everything indicates the fearful position in which his passions or his amour de patrie have placed him, yet he sleeps soundly with his powerful hand grasping the arm of his naked child. The accessories of the picture are perfectly in keeping with the subject. There are weapons of defence on the walls and in the corners of the hut ; a spur lies carelessly on the ground, as if taken off hurriedly after a night's hard riding; the saddle and bridle are suspended on pegs near the door, over which the fowls are still waiting for the “ peep o' day." The composition of the picture is altogether very forcible ; it contains many passages of striking and touching interest; but there is a monotony of tone which detracts much from the brilliancy that might have been imparted to such a subject. It has little positive colour in it, and that little is comparatively low; hence the work offers great difficulties to the engraver, so that the plate in less skilful hands than Mr. Sharpe's, would have stood the chance of turning out flat and ineffective. This will be readily understood when we describe the dresses of the two females as painted of a pale red colour, and the dark part of the garment round the loins of the “boy” of a deep blue; this and the fire in the foreground to the right are the only bits of strong colour in the picture ; the coat hanging up in the distant recess is also red toned down. There is a strong prevalence of browns of different shades in the other parts of the work, but the great breadth of light thrown on the group of figures compensates in some measure for the absence of more attractive qualities. This picture was painted soon after Wilkie's return from Ireland, and was exhibited at the THE BATTLE OF BORODINO. FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY. that GJONES RA PAINTER J. B. ALLEN ENGRAVER. FRINTED EY GAD & KENINGALE LONDON TULISUED FOR THE PROPHIE TOES. THE BATTLE OF BORODINO. 11 IR T . I . . Mwan AN TAI PL 21 D Koutousoff. 1 Loy 1 A NE of the most sanguinary engagements that occurred during the non invasion of Russia by Napoleon, is represented in this large picture by Mr. Jones, which was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1829. The French army, about 120,000 men, advancing upon Moscow from Smolensk, 'was met, on the 8th of September, 1812, by the Russian forces, of nearly equal numerical strength, under Koutousoff. The following account of this battle is borrowed from Sir Walter Scott's “Life of Napoleon :"- « The French army had been opposed to the Russians on the 5th September, having consumed seventeen days in marching two hundred and eighty wersts. Their first operation was a successful attack upon a redoubt in the Russian front, but which a great error in war-was situated too distant from it to be effectually supported. The French gained it and kept it. The armies lay in presence of each other all the next day, preparing for the approaching contest. Upon a position naturally strong, the Russians had raised very formidable field works. Their right flank rested on a wood, which was covered by some detached entrenchments. A brook, occupying in its course a deep ravine, covered the front of the right wing and the centre of the position as far as the river Borodino ; from that village the left extended down to another village, called Semoneskoie, which is more open, yet protected by ravines and thickets in front. This, as the most accessible point, was anxiously secured by redoubts and batteries ; and in the centre of the position, upon a gentle elevation, arose a sort of double battery, like a citadel, for the protection of the whole line. “In this strong position was stationed the Russian army, equal now in numbers to the French, as each army might be about 120,000 men. They were commanded by a veteran, slow, cautious, tenacious of his purpose, wily, too, as Napoleon afterwards found to his cost, but perhaps not otherwise eminent as a military leader. The army he led were of one nation and language, all conscious that this battle had been granted to their own ardent wishes, and determined to make good the eagerness with which they had called for it. “The French army, again, consisted of various nations; but they were the élite, and seasoned soldiers, who had survived the distresses of a most calamitous march ; they were the veterans of inn . LUO I THE VERNON GALLERY. the victors of Europe ; they were headed by Napoleon in person, and under his immediate command by those Marshals whose names in arms were only inferior to his own. Besides a consciousness of their superiority in action, of which, from the manner in which they had covered themselves in entrenchments, the enemy seemed aware ; the French had before them the prospect of utter destruction, if they should sustain a defeat in a country so difficult that they could hardly advance even as a successful army, and certainly could never hope to retreat as a routed one. “The battle began about 7 o'clock, by Ney's attacking the bastioned redoubt on the Russian centre with the greatest violence, while Prince Eugène made equal efforts to dislodge the enemy from the village of Semoneskoie, and the adjoining fortifications. No action was ever more keenly debated, nor at such a wasteful expenditure of human life. The fury of the French onset at length carried the redoubts, but the Russians rallied under the very line of their enemy's fire, and advanced again to the combat, to recover their entrenchments. Regiments of peasants, who till that day had never seen war, and who still had no other uniform than their grey jackets, formed with the steadiness of veterans, crossed their brows, and having uttered their national exclamation, ‘Gaspodee pomiloni nas! God have mercy upon us !' rushed into the thickest of the battle, where the survivors, without feeling fear or astonis ranks over their comrades as they fell, while, supported at once by enthusiasm for their cause and by a religious sense of predestination, life and death seemed alike indifferent to them. “The Russians, whose desperate efforts to recover their line of redoubts had exposed them to so much loss, were at length commanded to retreat; and although the victory was certainly with the French, yet their enemies might be said rather to desist from fighting than to have suffered a defeat. Indeed, it was the French who, after the battle, drew off to their original ground, and left the Russians in possession of the bloody field of battle, where they buried their dead, and carried off their wounded, at their leisure. Their cavalry even alarmed the French camp on the very night of their victory. Both parties sustained a dreadful loss in this sanguinary battle. Among that of the Russians, the death of the gallant Prince Bagration, whose admirable retreat from Poland we have had occasion to commemorate, was generally lamented. General Toncykoff also died of his wounds; and many other Russian generals were wounded. Their loss amounted to the awful sum total of 15,000 men killed, and more than 30,000 wounded. The French were supposed to have at least 10,000 men killed, and double the number wounded. Of these last few recovered, for the great convent of Kolotskoi, which served as an hospital, was very ill provided with anything for their relief ; and the medical attendants 1 1 In 11 UUU CU it seems even the necessaries of a hospital could, in this ill-fated army, only be collected by marauding. Eight French generals were slain, of whom Monbrun and Caulaincourt, brother of the Grand Equerry, were men of distinguished reputation. About 30 other generals were wounded. Neither party could make any boast of military trophies, for the Russians made 1000 prisoners, and the French scarce twice the number; and Koutousoff carried away 10 THE VERNON GALLERY. pieces of cannon belonging to the French, leaving in their hands 13 guns of his own. So slight, except in the numbers of the slain, had been the consequences of the battle, that it might have seemed to have been fought, as in games of chivalry, merely to ascertain which party had the superior strength and courage." But though the victory, if such it could be called, was on the side of the French, who remained masters of the field, Napoleon's army had been so reduced in numbers, and there seemed so little prospect of his obtaining early reinforcements, that, like his great prototype, Hannibal, after the battle of Cannæ, he might well exclaim, “ Another such victory and I am undone.” The French leader evidently felt this when urged by his generals to bring forward, as the contest seemed for a long time doubtful, his reserve, composed of the regiments of the Young Guard. “And what becomes of my army,” he exclaimed, “if these are beaten ?" The fact was, Koutousoff had withdrawn his troops in such order, notwithstanding they were raw levies, of whom the majority had never been under fire before, and had conducted his retreat in such masterly order, that not a man remained behind, nor could a straggler be fetched in to give intelligence of the route he had taken. Hence Napoleon considered that a fresh attack might probably be made upon him in a day or two by the Russians with an accession of strength, against which it would be utterly impossible for him to cope with the whole of his army, dispirited by ill success. Under these circumstances, he hastened, on the day following the Battle of Borodino, to put his troops in motion, and continue his advance upon Moscow, the “holy city” of the Muscovite, from the palace of which he hoped to dictate such terms to Alexander as the Russian monarch must submit to. To what extent this object was effected is a matter of history with which few are unacquainted. Thus, from this important engagement may be dated the long list of calamitous events U nuo CO prestige of his conquests never rallied ; and though he brought, as at Waterloo, other levies equally numerous and brave to contend against his enemies, they were unable to fill up the places on the battle-field of those who fell in the frozen plains of Russia. The disasters of this terrible campaign had a most unfavourable effect upon the public mind of France, for which even the gilding of the domes of the “ Invalides ” in Paris was but a poor compensation.* Men, women, and children grieved not more for the loss of relations than for the cloud that had overshadowed their national glory. There was an individual, a highly respectable female, whose mind was so wrought on by the circumstance, though she had lost no friends there, as to become a lunatic, and for years after she would wander about the city dressed in deep mourning, and lamenting the destruction of the * When the news of the retreat from Moscow was brought to Paris, Napoleon, in order to distract the minds of the people from the misfortune, commanded the two domes of the “ Hôtel des Invalides ” to be gilded; supposing, and not without some show of reason in one who so well understood the character of his subjects, that they would thus find some consolation in their trouble, or at least have something else to talk about. THE VERNON GALLERY. Y NG O . NO “half-million of fine soldiers," as she expressed herself. Many of the Parisians are doubtless still living, who may remember the "widow of the French Army ;” for so her countrymen christened her. The particular part of the engagement shown in the picture is described in Count Segur's narrative, from which the painter has composed his sketch :-“ Napoleon is watching the result of an attack made on the great redoubt of the Russians. A column of French infantry is ascending the eminence, supported by light cavalry on its left; and, on its right, çuirassiers are led by Caulaincourt, who forced the redoubt, but was slain in the struggle against the persevering courage of the Russians. Buonaparte was on foot, through indisposition ; but this attack proving successful, he mounted and rode over the field of battle. On the left, Murat is advancing and encouraging the troops." Mr. Jones has successfully grappled with a subject presenting many difficulties, the chief of which, perhaps, is the grouping together large masses of men over widely extended space, without any object or series of objects to form points of attraction to the spectator. In this picture even the principal figures in the foreground are comparatively small, so that the interest of the work depends upon the treatment of the whole, instead of being fixed to one especial passage. The painter has cleverly brought the fire and smoke of the Russian artillery to aid him in producing distance and pictorial effect, while Napoleon and his staff are brought forward in relief against the dark columns of the French troops. We do not think subjects such as these the best suited for the painter, but Mr. Jones has given much graphic character to that he has chosen. TI Af :: 33 Dugo 1919 DURAT WILSON FA PANTER CARTER ENORAVER HADRIAN'S VILLA FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY HADRIAN'S VILLA.. IC VIII VU LA DE HIS is one of the numerous pictures of Italian scenery which DV O M Richard Wilson, the “ father of English landscape painting," as he is termed, painted during his stay in Italy, or subsequently from sketches he made while resident there. He was born at Pinegas, in Montgomeryshire, in 1713, and first. commenced as a portrait painter, visiting Italy for the purpose of que studying that branch of art ; but having made some sketches of the scenery in the environs of Rome, they attracted the notice of Zuccherelli and Joseph Vernet, by whose advice he declined his former practice and diligently set to work upon what they recommended him to follow. The sequel shows his advisers were not mistaken in their estimate of Wilson's peculiar talent, for his landscapes are even now held in high esteem. This little picture is a good example of his pencil, rich and transparent in colour, and still fresh in its tone; many of his works have become dark, and have lost their original brilliancy. Wilson remained in Rome six years, and while there acquired so great reputation, that he established a school, to which a considerable number of pupils were attracted. Returning to London in 1755, he exhibited a few years afterwards his picture of “ Niobe," one of the finest of his works ; it at once established his reputation among the most original and the best landscape painters of his day; for though he had studied amid the rich galleries of Rome and Venice, he preferred nature as his model, to the most renowned productions of the most celebrated masters. Thence he acquired that bold and classic style for which he is distinguished, and which is rarely attained by those who too closely follow even the best guides in painting. Yet strange to say, notwithstanding the excellence he had reached, his pictures generally, even to the end of his life, rarely found purchasers, except among the dealers and brokers, who gave just what they pleased for them. There is a story told of him, that one day he took a picture to a broker somewhere in St. James's, who led the poor artist up stairs to an attic, and, opening the door, drew his attention to a pile of canvases. “You see, Dick,” said the dealer, “ you know I should be most happy to oblige you, but what can I do with such a stock already on hand ? there stand all the pictures I've paid you for these three years past.” The gënius of Wilson is better appreciated vil YO II C . THE VERNON GALLERY. now; his works, if in anything like good condition, realising very fair, though not extravagant, prices. Hadrian's Villa is situated at Tivoli, the Tibur of the Romans; it is about sixteen miles from the Imperial city, and inasmuch as the surrounding country is very healthy and the scenery of haracter, the ancient Roman nobility and men of wealth, erected their country residences there. The Emperor Hadrian, or Adrian, towards the close of his reign, A.D. 136, constructed near it a magnificent villa, of which extensive remains are still to be seen. The lower part of the building in the picture is presumed to be a portion of the original edifice, which, when first erected, contained imitations of the works of art, and of many natural picturesque scenes which he had met with in his travels throughout the Empire. Hadrian did not live long to enjoy his princely palace, dying two years after its erection. Wilson frequently repeated his pictures of the same subject. Among the works of the old masters exhibited during the past year at the British Institution, was a picture, belonging to W. Lambert, Esq., of this scene, with some little variation in the figures and the distance : in colour and effect the two are identically the same. diamo THE ENTHUSIAST. ny . A E know little worthy of record concerning the painter of this humorous picture, except the melancholy circumstance of his death. so He was killed, about twenty years ago, by accidentally falling through the skylight of a large Repository, in Gray's Inn Road, for ARVAVAD the sale of horses and carriages, whither he had gone, it is believed, for the purpose of making some sketches. Lane was a young man when thus suddenly deprived of life ; but S h e had already painted some pictures, similar in character to “The 4 Enthusiast,” which gained for him considerable popularity ; and had his career been prolonged, there is no doubt he would have attained great eminence in his peculiar style. He exhibited at the Royal Academy, in 1827, “ The Christmas Present, or Disappointment;” and, in 1828, “ Disturbed by the Nightmare ; ” both of them works most humorously conceived, yet without vulgarity, and excellently painted. . Perhaps there is no class of Sportsmen, and the term is not misapplied, which has been so subjected to ridiculous comment as the “ Anglers.” Who does not know Dr. Johnson's rude and unjust remark ; one, however, we do not choose to repeat for the benefit of the ignorant, and thereby to give still greater publicity to a title which may apply to ourselves, for we love the rivers and the brooks, and have worn off on their bosoms and their banks the labours of many a toilsome day, handling the rod in place of the pen, and inhaling the genial breath of a warm but cloudy day, instead of the pent-up atmosphere of an overcrowded city. It is all very well for one to smile at the angler who can, at any time, U I “Mount the swift horse and ride after the hounds," or have the leisure to enjoy the country when and how he pleases ; but those to whom a single quiet day is a luxury seldom tasted know the benefit both to mind and body in this healthful and tranquil recreation. It is not time idly spent, “T'allure the speckled trout with mimic fly, And draw the heavy chub from shaded nook," -- - - - -- - - - - - - THE VERNON GALLERY. and even if our pannier be light with our day's venture, the thoughts are full of pleasant things, sweet streams where the alder bends down to greet the rush, green fields from which the lark springs up ever and anon,-sights and sounds that leave neither shadow nor echo of sadness behind them, because they are not of man's creation. It is a fallacy to suppose that the pleasures of a true angler consist in the quantity of fish he takes home with him. Nor is the amusement such child's play as some imagine : if we were not afraid of losing the game from ignorance or awkwardness, we would put a rod into the hands of such a dreamer, with a salmon or a pike of some twelve or fourteen pounds weight at the end of the line, where, if he is sufficiently fortunate to keep it for an hour or so, we would ask him how he feels after the “run," and whether, if not shame had kept him to his task, he would not have let the “river king” go free. The day when he laid that gallant fish on the bank, if he succeeded in doing so, would be one not easily forgotten, nor one about which he would care to be silent: it requires a strong arm, and a power of patient endurance, to come victorious out of such an encounter; so again we say, “floreat piscator." The picture of “ The Enthusiast” was engraved some years back, we believe before it came into Mr. Vernon's possession ; it consequently has become well-known, particularly among the followers of the “gentle craft," as showing “ to what complexion they may come at last.” What a capital satire is it upon some veteran brother of the angle, whom age, and its frequent attendant the gout, have forbidden to wander by sedgy streams and willowy banks! And yet how enthusiastically he pursues his pastime-how anxiously he is watching for “ a bite "—how he has gathered around him all the means and appliances for alluring his prey; the boxes of worms and gentles, the enticing balls of savoury meats, and every thing else which an experienced angler knows to be essential to success! And all these are placed side by side with the draughts, and the pill-box, and the cup of gruel, which his own ailments require, as if the enjoyments of health and the miseries of sickness could be united in the same chamber. Nevertheless we doubt not that “The Enthusiast” is very happy in being able, even in this mimic fashion, to recal to recollection the pleasures of days gone by. This picture is painted with a finish and delicacy almost equal to the Dutch school. UL ARABS DIVIDING SPOIL. On C C .. WH; M j 1 KO . . . . + FORA , S this is the only picture by Allan which the collection formed by A M r. Vernon contains, it is presumed a biographical sketch of the A YA @ painter, abounding as it does with interesting matter, will not To prove unacceptable to the reader. I Sir William ALLAN, R.A., President of the Royal Scottish Academy, Member of the Academy of St Luke, &c., &c., was born in W the year 1782, at Edinburgh, and was educated there partly at the High School 64 of the city, under William Nichol, the companion of the poet Burns, a somewhat severe disciplinarian. At a very early age Allan evinced a love for the Arts, and all son his spare hours were devoted to drawing; he studied for several years at the Trustees Academy, commencing the day that Graham entered on his duties as master, at which time Wilkie also entered as a student. Wilkie and Allan were therefore among Graham's first pupils at the Academy. They began drawing from the same example, and thus continued for months using the same copy and sitting on the same form. The friendship thus begun by the young painters increased as they grew to manhood, and ceased' but with the life of Wilkie, whose character as a student, as an artist, and as a man, it was ever the delight of the subject of this memoir to hold up as an example to the young aspirants in the profession who sought his counsel. After the close of his studies with Graham, of whose instructions and kindness Allan ever cherished a most grateful remembrance, he removed to London and was admitted to the School of the Royal Academy, where he remained some time ; but not ultimately finding professional employment, and after many hard struggles in the great brick wilderness, he determined on going abroad to try whether encouragement might not be had elsewhere. 'Russia suggested itself as a country where an opening for his talents might be expected, and as one abounding in stirring and novel subject-matter for the pencil.. Sir William's well-known character for energetic action, when once his plans are resolved on, was here manifested. He scarcely gave himself time to communicate his intention to his THE VERNON GALLERY. friends in Scotland, but with one or two letters of introduction to some of his countrymen resident in St. Petersburgh, he embarked in a vessel sailing for Riga. Adverse winds threw the ship almost a wreck into Memel, in Prussia ; and thus the artist, with by no means a heavy purse, was cast upon a strange land, of whose language and people he was ignorant. The universal language of his Art, however, he could speak; and relying on his innate powers, he took up his abode at an inn and commenced portrait-painting, beginning with the portrait of the Danish consul, to whom he had been introduced by the captain of the vessel. Having, in this way, recruited his exhausted finances, he lost no time in resuming his journey northward. He proceeded overland to St. Petersburgh, encountering on the road various romantic incidents, and passing through a great portion of the Russian army on their way to the battle of Austerlitz. On his arrival at Petersburgh, he was, through the kindness of Sir Alexander Crichton, then physician to the Imperial family, introduced to many valuable friends ; and eventually, was enabled to pursue his Art diligently and successfully. Having attained a knowledge of the Russian language, he travelled into the interior, and remained for several years in the Ukraine, making excursions at various times to Turkey, Tartary, to the shores of the Black Sea, Sea of Azoph, and the banks of the Kuban, amongst Cossacks, Circassians, Turks, and Tartars ; visiting their huts and tents, studying their history, character, and costume, and collecting a rich museum of their arms and armour, as matières premières for his future labours in Art. In 1812, Mr. Allan began to meditate a return to fatherland, as in some measure he had accomplished the objects of his journey and stay abroad. But the French invasion had commenced ; Napoleon had already passed the frontier with his numerous army; the whole country was thrown into confusion and alarm : so that our painter's return became a matter of impossibility; and thus he was forced to witness not a few of the heart-rending miseries of that eventful period. In 1814, after an absence of ten years, Mr. Allan returned to the romantic city of his birth and boyhood, and had the happiness of again seeing his father and other dear friends. Our space will not permit us to do more than glance at Allan's Edinburgh life at this time ; suffice it to say, that the most eminent of his countrymen in Literature and Art visited, and were in daily intercourse with the young and enterprising artist ; among whom were Scott, Wilson, Lockhart, and other distinguished literati of the day. He commenced by embodying some of the romantic scenes which his travels and adventures had suggested. The first subject that brought his name into general notice in this country was the “ Circassian Captives," a work full of exquisite and novel matter, character, and expression ; and remarkable for the masterly arrangement of its parts. This picture was exhibited at Somerset House in 1815. Other works of kindred excellence succeeded :—“ Tartar Banditti," “ Haslan Gheray crossing the Kuban,” “ A Jewish Wedding in Poland,” “ Prisoners conveyed to Siberia by Cossacks,”— pictures which have never been forgotten by those who saw them. These and many others, the artist brought together and exhibited in his native city, along with the armour and costumes he had collected in his travels. This exhibition was highly attractive ; the artist rose higher in the estimation of his countrymen, but received few commissions. He had determined to make e C 1 THE VERNON GALLERY. USE Scotland his future residence, and historical painting his exclusive profession. The beginning was thus up-hill work ; but fortunately for historical Art in Scotland, there still remained a few of the Russian roubles. After a time, Sir Walter Scott, John Wilson the poet, his brother James the naturalist, Lockhart, and a number of the artist's other friends purchased his “ Circassian Captives” at a price they thought considerable ; and having resolved to decide by lot whose property it should become, the Earl of Wemyss became possessor of this beautiful work, which now graces his lordship’s collection in Stratford Place, London. The Grand Duke Nicholas, present Emperor of Russia, visited Edinburgh, and purchased several pictures from the artist ; one, “Siberian Exiles,” and another, “Haslan Gheray." Things began to look better ; Allan's works now found a more ready sale ; and his picture of “The Death of Archbishop Sharpe,” a work of very high character, was purchased by Mr. Lockhart, M.P., of Milton Lockhart ; his most affecting picture “ The Press-Gang,” by Mr. Horrocks of Tillyheeran ; his “ Knox admonishing Mary, Queen of Scots,” by Mr. Trotter of Ballendean ;." The Death of the Regent Murray," by his Grace the late Duke of Bedford; “The Ettrick Shepherd's Birthday,” by the late Mr. Gott of Leeds; his whole-length cabinet portraits of “Scott and Burns,” by his friend, Robert Nasmyth, Esq. ; and “The Orphan Scene at Abbotsford,” by King Williarn IV. A serious malady in the eyes now threatened the artist with total blindness, and was a source of great suffering for several years, causing a cessation of all professional labour. A change of climate was prescribed, and he went to Italy ; spent a winter at Rome, and from Naples made a journey to Constantinople; and after visiting Asia Minor and Greece, he returned to Edinburgh with health restored. “ The Slave Market, Constantinople,” purchased by Alexander Hill, Esq., publisher, was the fruit of this journey ; also, “Byron in the Fisherman's Hut, after swimming the Hellespont;” bought by Robert Nasmyth, Esq. In 1834, an ardent wish to visit Spain, and to gather new material for his Art, led him once more to go abroad. He sailed for Cadiz and Gibraltar, went into West Barbary, and crossing again to Spain, travelled over the greater part of Andalusia, intending to go on to Madrid, but was prevented by news from home from accomplishing the latter project. We cannot in so brief a notice do more than mention the names of a few of his other works. Among them are “ The Moorish Love-letter," “ Murder of Rizzio," “ Battle of Prestonpans," “ An incident in the life of King Robert Bruce,” “Whittington and his Cat,” “ Polish Exiles on the road to Siberia,” (this latter picture was bought by W. Burn Callender, Esq., of Preston Hall,) all remarkable for scrupulous correctness of character and costume, and lacking none of the higher qualities of Art. Having long desired to paint a picture of the Battle of Waterloo, he several times visited France and Belgium to make sketches of the field of action, and otherwise to collect material for his purpose. The view he chose was from the French side, Napoleon and his staff being the foreground figures. This picture was, in 1843, exhibited at the Royal Academy, and purchased by the Duke of Wellington, who gratified the artist by expressing his satisfaction at the 0 THE VERNON GALLERY. on truthfulness of the arrangement and detail in his work. Such high commendation induced Sir William to throw himself with all the indomitable energy for which the veteran President of the Scottish Academy, not less than the young adventurer of the Ukraine, was then remarkable, into another great picture of “Waterloo ” from the British side, with the view of entering the lists of the Westminster Hall competition in 1846. This work also gained the approbation of the great Captain," and was much praised by the public ; it was voted for by one at least of the best judges in the committee as worthy of public reward, but without so favourable a result. In 1844, Allan revisited Russia, and had an opportunity of seeing again his early patron, the Czar. There he painted a picture of “Peter the Great teaching his subjects the Art of Shipbuilding.” It was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1845, and is now in the Winter Palace, St. Petersburgh. In 1838, on the death of Mr. Watson, the first President of the Royal Scottish Academy, Mr. Allan was unanimously elected to fill the vacant chair : and on the decease of Wilkie in 1842, he was appointed her Majesty's limner for Scotland, and received the honour of knighthood. In 1826, he was elected Associate of the Royal Academy of London, and in 1835, Academician. The last picture on which Sir William was engaged, was “ The Battle of Bannockburn," as a kind of companion to his “Battle of Waterloo,” but he did not live to complete it, though during his last illness he had his bed removed into his painting-room, that he might sleep near his work. When the pencil at length fell from his hand he was too far gone to be removed from his studio, and he died in front of his latest picture on the 23rd of February, 1850. The small picture of “ Arabs dividing Spoil” is from a sketch made by the artist in one of his Eastern travels : the nationality of these Arabs has been well preserved in the composition of the work, and the subject is altogether most effectively supported : there is, however, some difficulty in determining whence the light proceeds which is thrown on the figures whose shadows appear on the rock ; for the time is evening, and the last rays of the sunset are seen through the trees in the distance, and are slightly reflected in the brook which flows at the entrance of the cave, the light therefore is at the back of the picture ; still the work is highly luminous and powerfully coloured. The dark blue cap and scarlet coat of the nearer figure come out in strong relief against the warm subdued tones of the rock. The other figure is habited in a light green jacket, which, with the white turban, places their wearer in his proper position between the two other principal objects ; almost any different treatment of this figure would have brought it too forward. The draperies and other matters in the foreground also show much rich and judicious colouring. ON J. COUSEN. ENGRAVER. E LAND SEER, R. A. PAINTER THE DEATH OF THE STAG. FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY SIZE OF THE FICTURE PRINTED BY E RAT THE DEATH OF THE STAG. I I . . . A it ERE we inclined to write a homily upon the sufferings of animals: which man makes subservient to his pastime, we could find no more appropriate text than is supplied by the picture before us, beautiful though it is as a work of Art; and however unwilling one may be to introduce a remark that savours of over-sensibility, or that would throw a shadow over the colouring of a fine painting, it is utterly OV O impossible to comment upon one of such a character as this, All without some allusion to its subject-matter, and the feeling to which it would naturally give rise. Why, the very first idea suggested to the mind upon looking FREE at it, is that of sympathy with the noble creature, borne headlong over the foaming waters by the strength of the torrent and the firm gripe of his assailants. We may est admire the same animal could we see him with his head erect and his limbs in full stretch, bounding from crag to crag, or away over the level moor-even though we know the pack are hurrying onwards, and may, possibly, soon fasten on his thick haunches. There is still, however, in such a scene, some chance of escape for him in the actual chase, some probability that his swift legs will carry him beyond the reach of his pursuers, or hide him in deep covert where even canine sagacity cannot track him. But from Landseer's picture there is no such hope to be gathered ; no pause in the struggle between life and death ; no drawing back from certain destruction : had the stag only the element to contend with, that broad chest might stem the torrent, and those delicate but muscular limbs might bear him safely over the mimic cataract to the shores of the lake. He is held down, however, by his powerful adver- saries; is wearied perhaps by a “hard day's run;" his tongue protrudes from exhaustion and pain ; the eye is already half glazed in the anguish of death ; and though the head is still held proudly upwards, and he still stretches out his brave body o'er the crest of the waters, it is only the last effort- “Of a strong swimmer in his agony;" me 1 VII he has struggled hard and nobly for his life, and falls with his face to the enemy. THE VERNON GALLERY. ULO It may well be asked, why then do painters select such subjects as these when the whole creation in all its beauty and serenity, the animal world in its innocence and joyousness, lie open before them, from which they may unreservedly make choice. The question is more easily put than answered; but he may have an object other than that of merely exhibiting his powers to illustrate a scene ; he may possibly wish to “point a moral,” and to do this effectually he would necessarily make the strongest appeal to reason and sensibility that his imagination could suggest ; he would seize the most striking points his subject admits of, and impart to them the most vivid colouring, just as an orator reserves his loftiest flights of eloquence that he may leave the more lasting impression upon his audience ; or as a tragedian throws all his energies into the death-scene, that he may expire amid the plaudits of the “ house." In all these cases “ effect” is sought after ; such an effect as will best suit the purpose of the doer, by making the act at one and the same time be its own commentator, and the interpreter of the genius of him who describes it. There is a fine poetical feeling thrown into the composition of this work, which a painter of genius alone could have imagined ; the landscape harmonises with the deed of death ; it is solitary, and rugged, and barren ; the hard granite rocks, abrupt and shadowy, seem to look on, pitiless spectators of what is taking place beneath them, and the only echo which fancy listens to is that of the howl of the drowning dog, as it rolls along the gloomy amphitheatre of hills until lost in the distant gorge. The last rays of the evening sun are fast disappearing, but they throw a strong light over the foreground of the picture, and sparkle on the white foam of the waters and on the wet green moss which covers the masses of stone. Although this is an early picture of Landseer's, it is painted with consummate skill and vigour ; indeed, we have considerable doubts whether his more matured practice has enabled him to produce a finer work of Art in what constitutes sound and substantial painting. He onably, become more refined in his manner, and works with a more glowing and varied palette ; but he has not studied nature more closely than we find it represented in the picture before us. This is especially recognisable in the head of the stag, which is delineated with a truthfulness not to be surpassed ; the agonising expression of the poor victim is fearful to look upon. Neither Rubens nor Snyders ever painted “a hunt” with greater power than Landseer has here shown, but there are other pictures by the latter which give us more unmixed satisfaction to contemplate than his “Dying Stag," where “ Toiling pleasure sickens into pain." DE TABLEY PARK. ller ) LCUL Tabley Park, with its fine mansion, is situated near Knutsford, one of the most pleasing localities in the county of Cheshire,—one, from its general flatness, not remarkable for picturesque beauty. Knutsford is said to have derived its name from Knut, or as we call him, Canute, the Danish King, who, with his army, forded the small branch of the river Bollin, which runs past the town. De Tabley Park is the seat of Lord de Tabley, whose father, Sir 30 John Leicester, was created a baron in 1826. He was a most munificent patron of British Art, as the gallery in the mansion abundantly testifies ; his respect for the artists of his country was not only exhibited in the purchase of their works, but the doors of his house were always open for their hospitable entertain- ment. Among those who found a constant and frequent welcome therein, was the venerable painter, James Ward, who, at one period of his life, spent much of his time with his noble patron. "The history of an artist who has passed his eightieth year, and lives, while we now write, as does Mr. Ward, still exercising his talents with almost undiminished power, is of very rare occurrence in the annals of art, and will well bear narrating. He was born in Thames Street, London, in October, 1769 : at a very early age he was placed with a mezzotinto engraver of the name of Smith, who so far from giving the boy any instruction in his art, would not even afford him paper to draw upon, so that, as Mr. Ward has expressed himself, “ like the Israelites of old, I was compelled to make bricks without straw.”' Many of his efforts at this time were drawn upon the backs of unfinished mezzotinto prints, the paper of which had been rendered so 'rotten for printing, that it would not take the chalk. Having, notwithstanding such discouragements, served an apprenticeship of nine years, a portion of the time with Smith, but the far major part with an elder brother, who had also been a pupil of Smith’s, a slight circumstance changed the current of his pursuits. About six months before he left his brother, the latter had an accident with a picture, by Copley, which he was engraving, and he was consequently much concerned to get the damage repaired; young James THE VERNON GALLERY. I offered to do it, and procuring a box of colours, succeeded beyond his most sanguine expectations. Being interested in his new acquisition, he afterwards took an old piece of canvas, and endeavoured to compose a picture : this he did so creditably, that his brother gave him a commission to paint two pictures for him. George Morland, some little time previously to this circumstance, had taken up his residence with the two brothers, and young Ward had occasionally seen him paint; this was the only teaching he had hitherto received. After the death of the elder Ward, the two pictures just referred to were sold at an auction for genuine Morlands. Morland was at that time in high fashion ; his groups of rustic figures, his cow-sheds, and piggeries were eagerly sought after by the connoisseurs and amateurs of the day; and Ward considered he could not do better than place himself under so favourite a master, especially as his own taste inclined in a similar direction. So he dashed forward with all the impetuosity and eagerness of inexperienced youth, in the same path ; and, although just liberated from a long and weary servitude, offered to place himself under Morland for two or three years ; but the offer was not accepted from an apprehension, it was rumoured, on the part of the latter, that his pupil would probably soon outstrip him. Left to his own resources, therefore, Ward went ºon painting in the style he had adopted, making a large number of pictures, of which many were engraved and published; while not a few were sold as the productions of Morland. Being at a dinner party one day where his old master, Smith, was present, the latter said to him :-“Ward, you have taken to painting, and you are right, but you are looking at Morland; look at the old masters, look at Teniers ; Morland, after Teniers, is like reading a Greek street- ballad after Milton.” Ward, however, did not think so, but then he was unacquainted with the works of Teniers, and, indeed, was altogether ignorant of the genius which inspired the old masters. It was not very long, indeed, before he had the opportunity of learning their value, principally at the house of Mr. Bryan, a man of considerable property, who dealt extensively in ancient pictures ; he engaged Ward to engrave for him the “Cornelius” of Rembrandt, and the “ Diana” of Rubens. In 1794, Mr. Ward was appointed painter and engraver to the Prince of Wales, afterwards George the Fourth, and received a commission from Sir W. Beechey to engrave his large picture of the “Review.” A proof of this print was presented to Queen Charlotte by the engraver in person; her Majesty received it very graciously, remarking " that it should not be placed with the ordinary presentation copies, but hung up in her bedchamber.” She accordingly requested him to have it framed for that purpose. Notwithstanding his success in the management of his graving tools, his earnest desire to become a painter had never deserted him; but the position he already occupied in the other art seemed an almost insuperable barrier against the profitable pursuit of an artist. He, however, presented the necessary drawing to the Academy to be admitted a student, and was at once accepted ; West, the President, and Northcote complimenting him highly upon his performance. Determined to persevere in his object—that of becoming a painter-notwith- standing considerable opposition from several members of the Academy desirous of retaining his services as an engraver, he sat diligently at his easel, and in one year, as we have heard him 7 1 THE VERNON GALLERY. I say, he refused commissions for engraving to the amount of 20001. Hoppner, an Academician, was one of those hostile to Ward's project ; he called one day on Mrs. Ward, and tried to influence her to join in the opposition. “Ward,” he said to her, “has done something which has never been done before, and we all wish him to engrave after our works; he will command everything, and make a fortune ; and what more can he wish for ?—while to take to painting at his time of life is folly ; he will never be able to overtake and make a stand with the painters ; we shall, therefore, lose the best engraver, whom we want, and shall encourage a bad painter, whom we do not want.” West, the President, who was Mr. Ward's warmest encourager and friend, advised him to attempt something on a large and striking scale, to remove from the minds of certain members of the Academy the impression that he was only an engraver trying his hand at the sister art. Accordingly he painted the picture of “The Horse and the Serpent,” life-size, and sent it to the Academy for Exhibition. To his exceeding mortification it was rejected, which, when Barry, the Academician, learned, he remarked, “no wonder the picture was sent back, it would cut them all to pieces.” The work, however, was purchased and sent to America for exhibition, but the painter, smarting under the indignity that had been offered him, withdrew his name from the list of candidates for Academical honours, although at the solicitation of several of his friends among the older members, he allowed it to be reinserted. Soon after he was elected an Associate. It was about this time that Ward was introduced to the late Lord de Tabley, with whom, as we before stated, he used to pass a considerable portion of his time ; we have heard many interesting anecdotes connected with these visits, which we could narrate if our space would permit. The next important work executed was one altogether differing from any of his previous performances, “The Angel troubling the Pool of Bethesda," painted for a gentleman in Derby- shire. It was exhibited at the British Institution, and, according to the statement of its author, “ was lauded with scurrilous abuse by the Press.” All who have watched the progress of events in the history of nations or of individuals, must frequently have remarked how closely success and disappointment often follow each other; there is a striking instance of this in Ward's career about this time. The Directors of the British Institution had offered a premium of one thousand guineas for the best oil-sketch of “ The Battle of Waterloo ;" he entered into the competition, and, having no relish for files of soldiers drawn up in ranks, or mingling in the confusion of battle, treated the subject allegorically and obtained the prize, with a commission for a large national picture, to be placed in Chelsea Hospital. The work undertaken was of gigantic size, thirty-five feet by twenty-one, and the Duke of Wellington sat for his portrait; it was finished, and exhibited for a short time at the Egyptian Hall, whence it was forwarded to its place of destination. And now commenced the mortifying part of the business ; after considerable discussion among the authorities, the picture was hung on the south side of the hall, where the hot summer's sun scorched its back through each window. It was afterwards removed to a place over the door, with its top close to the THE VERNON GALLERY. LIU enormou wall, and the bottom projecting over a gallery, where the unhappy artist saw it some time after, covered with dust. It is now packed up in the gallery upon the rollers on which it was painted It might naturally be presumed that the ill-success and disappointment hitherto attending the artist's performances on a grand scale, would deter him from any future attempts in the same course ; but his spirit was not so easily daunted, nor did his energies relax under dis- couragement. He had long been desirous of undertaking a task, which his friend, West, had suggested to him, that of painting a picture to rival Paul Potter's celebrated “ Bull.” A well- known patron of art, Mr. Allnutt, of Clapham, possessed a very fine Alderney Bull, and as Ward was frequently a visitor at the house of this gentleman, it afforded a good opportunity for him to carry out his intention. The “Bull” was accordingly painted, life-size, and brought the artist high praise ; it was sent to Carlton Palace, for George the Fourth to see, thence to Holland, that the Dutch might form an estimate of the comparative merits of their painter and ours ; thence it was imported into America, and finally came back to this country, where it now remains, in the possession of Mr. G. R. Ward, the son of the artist, and an eminent mezzo. tinto engraver. It is an exceedingly fine picture of its class, but its enormous size entirely precludes its purchase by any private individual. For more than half a century the walls of the Royal Academy have been adorned with his numerous paintings, and though now, as we before stated, upwards of eighty years old, neither hand nor eye, shows, in his works, that it has reached half that term. The picture of the lake and tower of De Tabley Park is a fine specimen of the artist's powers, when his pencil had reached its prime. Though generally termed “a cattle-painter,” his landscapes exhibit a truth and beauty, such as we are accustomed to find in one whose practice is limited to that department only. He has evidently studied the landscapes of Rubens to good purpose, and has quite identified his own style with that of the great Flemish painter. We see this in the very work before us, in the rounded, picturesque form of the trees, the same depth of shade in glen and hollow, and the same fresh and sparkling glitter where the sunbeams fall. The balance of light and shade has also been admirably preserved in the “ Park Scene ;” the dark purple clouds are rolling off before the western sun,—there has evidently been a thunder-storm, for the landscape looks wet, and the lake is discoloured by the rain, and the cattle, having huddled together through fear, are betaking themselves to the water. The bull in the foreground is a portrait, on a pigmy scale, of that we have alluded to above. N III II 0 2.V. PIPPINGILLE PAINTER T. W. HUNT ENGRAVER REFLECTION. FROM THE PICTUHE IN THE VERNON GALLERY. SIZE OF THE PICTURE 2 LT. 4 ENBY I FT. SHIN. 3 HELBY 2. WILKINSON PUBLISEED FOR THE PROPRIETORE. REFLECTION. ...??/11 17. w LAMA 2. E presume this picture to be a study made by the artist during his residence in Italy ; it has all the characteristics of the female physiognomy of that country, softened down into an expression of repose and sweetness,—a Madonna-like countenance, such as is fre- o quently to be met with in the works of the old masters, whose lamp of beauty was made to shine only on the pure, the exalted, and the good. The philosophy of genuine, that is, true Art, requires the imagination and ideas of its votaries to be in subjection to moral principles and right understanding ; otherwise, it does not attain its proper elevation, nor answer its destined end. We remember to have seen an observation somewhere, which well expresses our meaning,—“Every artist, whether a poet, a musician, a sculptor, or a painter, who presents to us mean, sensual, low, and grovelling thoughts and sentiments, let the medium through which he effects this be as beautiful as it may, understands not his mission as an artist; nay, more, he incurs a fearful responsibility, by investing with a beautiful form the false and the bad wishes instead of the true and good.” It is very remarkable that the Greeks, whose morality was by no means of the strictest order, even at their highest point of civilisation, well understood the principles of real beauty as here laid down. In none of their works that have come down to us, and in none of which history and tradition speak, do we find the artists of ancient Greece descending to perpetuate that which is debasing and derogatory to human nature. Though their gods and goddesses are essentially of the earth, and therefore “earthy,” there is a refinement and a spirituality apparent in them which modifies their grosser natures, and elevates them above their lower origin; so that if Art among the Athenians were not the handmaiden of religion, she undoubtedly was of such philosophy as tends to enlighten the mind and purify the feelings, and it may, perhaps, even be said, of that religion which was given them to know ; in fact, Art stood to them in the place of other teaching, surpassing in efficacy the dogmas of schools and the creeds of their disciples. But the light of revelation, seen dimly through the dark ages, when these had passed away, THE VERNON GALLERY. gave a new impulse to Art, investing it with something more than the half-sacred character it assumed under its earlier followers : the shadow now became a substance, and the ideal was invested with form and vitality ; or, in other words, the divinity which stirs in man adapted itself to the new order of things that arose and made Art the preacher and apostle of Christianity. The legends of the saints, the sufferings of martyrs, the pious acts of self- denying men, but, above all else, the histories of the first founders of our holy religion, were made tributary to its circulation over the earth by the great painters who lived during the fourteenth and the two succeeding centuries. *Art then served the high and holy purpose of reclaiming the bad, of purifying the sensual, of confirming the waverer, and exciting the indolent ; and, trammelled as we acknowledge it to have frequently been with conventionalities, and disfigured by absurdities, and often degraded by superstitions, it failed not, nevertheless, in its mission, by keeping alive the spirit which might otherwise have succumbed to bigotry and ignorance. They err greatly who consider that Art was ordained for mere ornament only, or for vain gratification ; it was not thus that Perugino, and Raffaelle, Sebastian del Piombo, and Guido regarded it. These remarks seem naturally to arise from the contemplation of Mr. Rippingille's picture, which, as we before stated, resembles in feeling and character some of the religious portraits the old Italian masters delighted to paint ; and with which the artist is most probably well acquainted. The style of the work is most studiously simple, its power being confided to the sentiment of the features, which is truly charming. We know not whether the painter intended to convey any especial idea in the treatment of his work, but the title of “Reflection ” seems not inapplicable to its expression, nor would Bernard Barton's elegant description of a portrait be misquoted in reference to it: “Though some might deem her pensive, if not sad, Yet those who knew her better, best could tell How calmly happy and how meekly glad Her quiet heart in its own depths did dwell : Like to the waters of some crystal well, In which the stars of heaven at noon are seen, Fancy might deem on her young spirit fell Glimpses of light more glorious and serene Than that of life's brief day, so heavenly was her mien." It is not the mode of representing a feeling or a sentiment in a picture that gives it its true value ; this must be estimated by what is actually shown, independent of the manner or medium in or through which the painter seeks to convey it, and which may always lie open to the judgment of the critic, without affecting the design and aim of the artist. SPANIARDS AND PERUVIANS. MK O W greatly is it to be lamented that, for want of due and proper encouragement, so many artists whose genius would have elevated them to a high position as historical painters, have been compelled by the stern necessity of earning a subsistence, to devote their talents to the more humble, and, to a great mind, unsatisfactory task of portraiture. This is an undeniable fact now; it was still more evident at the time when Briggs lived : and, among all his contemporaries, none felt this necessity more keenly, or yielded less willingly to it. Seni Henry Peyronnet Briggs was born at Walworth, in Surrey, in 1791. His S f ather held a lucrative appointment in the Post Office, and intended his son for a mercantile life ; but the talent, which at seven years of age, impelled the boy to sketch whatever he saw, induced his father to send him, in 1811, to the Royal Academy as a student. In 1814, he exhibited on the walls of that institution his first picture, a portrait ; this department of art was, however, but ill-calculated to satisfy the 'aspirations of his heart, and he soon therefore set to work upon the more important branch of history-exhibiting, in 1818, a picture of “ Lord Wake, of Cottingham, setting fire to his Castle, to prevent a visit from Henry VIII., who was enamoured of his wife.” How long and earnestly, and perseveringly, the artist laboured in the path he had selected, may be inferred from a list of some of the principal pictures he painted, till forced to exchange the practice of the ideal and the noble in Art, for that which is too often dictated by pride, and vanity, and self-gratification. Passing by the intervening period between the years 1818 and 1824, as offering little worthy of especial remark, though the artist was then gradually working his way into notice, he exhibited in the latter year, “Edward III., Queen Isabella, and the Earl of March, in Nottingham Castle ;” in the following year, a “Scene from the Taming of the Shrew” and a “Scene from the Tempest.” In 1826, he was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy, and exhibited an admirable picture of “Othello relating his Adventures to Desdemona," and 1 THE VERNON GALLERY. 1 that which is here engraved, “The First Interview between the Spaniards and the Peruvians.” In 1827, he exhibited “A Challenge," from the last canto of the Orlando Furioso; and “ Juliet and the Nurse," also in the Vernon Collection. In 1829, we find him exhibiting a subject from a battle-field, and “Margaret of Anjou meeting with the Robbers ;” and in the following year, “Inez de Castro parting from her Children.” A large picture, painted for the Mechanics’ Institute, at Hull, and entitled, “The Progress of Civilisation," was exhibited in 1831; this may be called his last principal essay in historical painting ; though he exhibited, in 1834, “Puck and Hermia,” and “Friar Lawrence,” from Romeo and Juliet. During the fifteen years that had now elapsed, from his first appearance among the recognised artists of England, Briggs exerted himself to the utmost to advance the interests of British Art in its most elevated character, and his labours were rewarded by his brother artists by his election to the full honours of the Academy in 1832. But his pictures, evidences, as they were, of genius, remained still in his studio ; it was only now and then a purchaser could be found for them ; and as artists, like other men, must live, Shakspeare, and Hume, and the Poets were abandoned for the men and women of his own country and time, As a portrait-painter Briggs soon rose into high repute; so that many of the most distinguished public and literary characters sat to him. He worked assiduously in this department till his death in 1844. “The First Interview between the Spaniards and Peruvians,” is taken from Robertson's History of America :-“As the Inca drew near, Father Vincent Valverde, chaplain to the expedition, explained, in a long discourse, the doctrine of the Catholic faith, exhorting the Inca to acknowledge the supreme jurisdiction of the Pope, and to submit to the king of Castile as his lawful sovereign, promising him protection if he complied, but, if he refused, denouncing war and vengeance in his master's name.” The conference, we are told, ended in a general massacre of the Peruvians, and the imprisonment of the Inca. The picture, notwithstanding a certain theatrical effect with which the group is composed, is finely conceived, and very powerfully coloured; the notorious Valverde, the simple-minded Inca Atahualpa and his young wife, with the other personages introduced, are each and all well-studied figures, whose parts in the scene are strikingly pourtrayed. It is, undoubtedly, one of the artist's best works, and this is saying much for it; yet it passed through the exhibition at the Academy, without finding a purchaser ; it was bought by Mr. Vernon after the close of the season for a very considerable sum. A xor 2- RBRANDARD ENGRAVER SIR A.W.CALLCOTT A PAINTER THE MEADOW. FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY, THE MEADOW. - - . - . DUTY NAS li HUIS So NE of the points that require the most consideration on the part of Sam 212 a landscape-painter is the choice of a subject ; such a subject, that is, as will compose into a good picture ; for there are many exquisitely beautiful scenes over which the cye traverses which a skilful artist knows cannot be effectively rendered by any amount of A care and talent bestowed upon them. And it is curious to remark X V how varied are the characters of the places where the artist will seek for what he requires. Thus one seats himself with his sketch-book in hand ; upon some clovated point of ground commanding an extensive prospect ; he delights in taking in a “long range,” and will embody miles of natural space upon gen: . as many inches of his paper or canvas. Another places himself in a narrow shady lane, or on the outskirts of a thick wood, where only glimpses of the blue sky above are visible, and he covers his picture with broad masses of foliage and clustering hedge-plants, and fills in his foreground with long waving grasses and bright wild flowers. A third finds beauty in the mountains and solitary places where the human voice is seldom heard, and he brings these before us in all their grandeur and sublimity, as they have stood through successive generations of mankind. Another, on the contrary, resorts to the habitations of society, and scarches out the picturesque among cdifices that aro grey with age, or among those which have long been tenantless, save to the owl and the bat ; while yet another will “ sit down by the still waters,” on whose banks a few cattle are feeding, and discern in these, and the tall hedges around, and the sky overhead, all that he desires for the present purpose of his art. Thus cach sces with his own eyes, and determines by his own understanding, the Beautiful, according to the feeling which Nature has planted in him, and which, however differing from that of others, is in all of them alike truthful, and alike worthy of being recorded. The charming little cabinet-picture, entitled “ The Meadow,” is an example of that Cuyp-like feeling and effect in which Callcott sometimes indulged. I 11 JU THE VERNON GALLERY. The “ Meadow” stands on the confines of a river, on the opposite bank of which we catch, through the golden haze, the dim outlines of a town, whose church-towers, on one side, are lighted up with the rays of the morning sun. To the left of the picture, in order to carry the eye onward, à cart is descending over the uneven ground ; this object is likewise partially obscured by the rising mist. In the foreground a group of cattle are herded together, some waking up from their night's repose, others yet dozing through the early day, but all in perfect tranquillity. Around them, on the high grass and the green herbage, the fresh dew is glittering as if pearls had been scattered over their surfaces, while the pool of water, beside which the cattle are lying, has just caught the first beams of the sunlight. The sky is arranged with the skill of a master ; the clouds, in gentle motion, are placed where they serve the purpose of filling in a considerable space, and thus give an interest to a portion of the picture which otherwise would appear flat and monotonous; and they are beautifully luminous. The whole work may be described as a gem, small indeed, but of the highest and purest quality, and wrought with exquisite finish. Callcott painted several pictures of this class of Art, which are greatly esteemed by connoisseurs ; Lady Dover has in her possession three or four, remarkable for the elegance of their composition, and their fidelity to Nature. The artist has been complimented as the modern Claude : he might, with equal justice, have been called the modern Cuyp. THE VICTIM. ! V 20h itta M VI www I! . IN . Watu MED D E HE clever fiction by Le Sage, entitled “Le Diable Boiteux," from VAN which this picture is taken, has long ceased to be a work much read in this country, although, at one period, it ranked among the most popular issued from every circulating library. The leading' idea of the story is borrowed from the Spanish tale of “ El Diablo Cojuelo," written by Luis Velez de Guevara, of which it is properly a do continuation. When “Le Diable Boiteux" was first published in Paris, Yo ' about the year 1707, its notoriety was very great, owing, in a great measure, top it is supposed, to much of the satire being aimed at contemporary characters of eminence in the French capital; but the fidelity and rich colouring of its pictures, ve which are drawn from all ranks of society, and its clear and correct style, have made its reputation lasting wherever it is known. It is not difficult to understand why the work has fallen into disuse with us in the present day; neither its subject nor the treatment is suited to the tastes of our times; we reject, and very properly too, all that is objectionable in idea, whatever moral it teaches, and all that might lead to misconception, however delicately veiled by the skill and genius of the writer. Hence the characters drawn by Le Sage are not such as would be placed for public exhibition among a people who pride themselves in possessing an amount of refinement, so far, at least, as regards external appearances, nowhere else to be met with ; and who do not seem to be quite of the poet's opinion, that .. “ Vice iş a monster of such hideous mien, As to be hated, needs but to be seen.” But the book contaiils-scenes and passages which suggest instructive and amusing pictures to an artist who'can"select them with judgment; yet'it requires some little discrimination to do this without hazarding offence, where the various í links that make up the chain of a story are so entwined as to render it difficult to detach' one from the others. A character, whether sketched THE VERNON GALLERY. 1 SO LU with the pen or the pencil, is but imperfectly drawn, or at least is but imperfectly recognised, unless we are acquainted with its entire history; to entertain a just conception of its merits or failings we must understand it thoroughly : still it is not always indispensable to the interest one takes in a historical or ideal picture that we should be entirely conversant with the personages who are represented in it, any more than it is necessary for us to be able to identify the places represented in a landscape painting to qualify us for the enjoyment of the picture. Thus we may be infinitely amused with the confusion of the hero of Mr. Egg's work, Patricio, the most excellent citizen of Madrid, without stopping to inquire into his history, or how he was so unfortunate as to become a “ victim.” It is enough for the sufficient understanding of the subject, that we state he has been breakfasting most luxuriously at a tavern with his two companions ; partridges, chickens and ham, pigeons, fruits, wine and other delicacies, make up the long account he holds in his hands. “ Before they went out of the tavern,” says the translation of Le Sage's work, “there was a necessity for paying the vintner, who mounted the bill to fifty reals. The citizen put his hand into his pocket, where, finding but thirty reals, he was forced to pawn his beads, garnished with silver medals, for the rest.” The artist has placed this scene on the canvas with no little skill and dramatic effect; we at e awkward position of the entertainer, whose liberality has led him to incur an expense beyond his means of payment; he thinks the charges exorbitant, and doubtless they are, for the landlord is shrewd enough to penetrate the character of his guest, and thinks that a little imposition may be safely practised upon him. Yet he justifies the amount of the bill by recalling the various items it contains, and expatiating upon the superior quality of the good things served up :-“crammed chickens, partridges of Leon, pigeons of old Castile, and more than half a ham of Estremadura," are not to be had for a trifle, and must be paid for accordingly. But Patricio draws not the purse from his pocket with the alacrity of one who knows its contents more than suffice for the demands upon it; he produces it slowly and unwillingly, like a man who feels himself a “victim” to his own folly. His female companions, the authors of his perturbation, are very cleverly drawn; they have had their feast, and are enjoying the misery of which poor Patricio is now the subject ; heartless and mischievous, they are indifferent to the consequences of his foolish good-nature. This picture was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1844 ; it is painted with considerable firmness of texture and freedom of handling ; and shows a breadth of effect, by the judicious arrangement of light and shade, that tells this essential attribute of good painting has been well studied by the artist. Mr. Egg has worked himself steadily and slowly, without any aid but that his own talent and industry have afforded him, into an honourable position among his brethren, and as he is still a young man, comparatively, there is every reason to presume he will ultimately reach the highest professional rank. He is a son of the well-known gunsmith in Piccadilly, where he was born in the year 1816. Educated in a school of the highest respectability in Kent, he there took lessons in drawing from the master who usually attended the pupils, but evinced no remarkable ni uu THE VERNON GALLERY. 1 - _ 1 superiority over his companions, though his drawings were always distinguished by much care and nicety. On leaving school he does not appear to have entertained any idea of adopting the Arts as a profession, but about the year 1837, having seriously turned his thoughts to the subject, he entered the studio of Mr. Sant, so long distinguished as a successful school of Art, in Charlotte Street, Bloomsbury, and now under the superintendence of Mr. Cary. In the following year he was admitted a pupil of the Royal Academy; and soon after commenced painting several pictures of Italian subjects, though a stranger to Italy, and scenes from those inexhaustible sources of descriptive imagination, the pages of Sir Walter Scott. But his first work of importance was one very similar in character to that here engraved, and was exhibited at the Liverpool Academy, under the same title—“ The Victim.” The subject of the picture was borrowed from Gil Blas, a favourite author of Mr. Egg's. It was bought by a gentleman of Liverpool, and has been excellently engraved in “The Gems of European Art.” Elated by his success, Mr. Egg now summoned courage to exhibit in London, and in 1836, and a few years following, we find his works hanging on the walls of the Society of British Artists, in Suffolk Street, where one of them attracted the notice of Prince Albert, who became its possessor. In 1843, he exhibited at the British Institution the picture referred to as exhibited in Liverpool; in 1844, “Sancho's Letter to his Wife,” and “Gil Blas exchanging Rings with Camilla ;” and in 1845, “ The Riddle.” Of his contributions to the Royal Academy, among the best may be enumerated, “ A Scene in the Boar's Head, Eastcheap;" “Romeo and Juliet ;" “ Cromwell discovering his Chaplain, Jeremiah White, making love to his daughter Frances ;" “The Introduction of Sir Piercie Shafton to Halbert Glendinning ;" “A Scene from the Winter's Tale ;" “ Buckingham rebuffed ;” “The Wooing of Katherina," from the Taming of the Shrew, and another subject from the same play ; “Queen Elizabeth discovers she is no longer young." The excellence of the last-named picture was the means of introducing the artist into the ranks of the Royal Academy; for, at the election of two Associates, in the autumn of the year 1848, he was elected to fill one of the vacancies. Mr. Egg, although about this time suffering from extremely delicate health, was not idle ; his admission among the graduates of the Academy stimulated him to renewed exertion. In the season following his election, he exhibited “ Henrietta Maria in distress, relieved by Cardinal de Retz," and "Launce's Substitute for Proteus's Dog," and in 1850, “Peter the Great sees Catherine, his future Empress, for the first time;" this is, in many respects, the best of his works; it shows more independence of thought, and therefore more originality of construction, than his previous pictures exhibit. Mr. Egg is not a rapid painter, or it might, perhaps, be more properly remarked, that he does not seek to produce a large number of pictures ; he rarely contributes more than two, often only one, to the annual exhibition at the Academy, but on these much time and study are evidently expended. There is neither looseness nor carelesness in his manner ; his canvas is generally well covered with subject, and everything upon it is wrought up to as great a degree of finish as is necessary to render his work at once effective and delicate. Without pretending to reach the THE VERNON GALLERY. bold arrangement and strong contrast of light and shade exhibited in the pictures of Leslie, of whom he is evidently a great admirer, there is a large amount of what painters call “ breadth” discernible in his works, while his colouring is harmonious and brilliant. We are of opinion that this artist is scarcely aware of his own strength ; till within the last two or three years he has accustomed himself to look so much at others, as to be ignorant of what he could accomplish by following the impulses of his own genius. Overweening confidence too frequently leads to failure ; so, on the other hand, a want of self-reliance is often an insuperable barrier to success. The foot that refrains from pressing onwards, lest thorns and briars should impede its progress, will never reach the goal to which fame would lead her votaries. Mr. Egg has that in him which should urge him far beyond the point of excellence he has already attained ; if he fail, he will be found to have been the “victim” of his own irresolution and misapplied diffidence. 1 OWN W. HILTON, R.A. PAINTER C. ROLLS ENGRAVER. REBEKAH AT THE WELL. FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY. SIVT OF THE PICTURE POSTED BY WICKINSON REBEKAH AT THE WELL. LI . i s ILTON deserves a conspicuous niche among the greatest British artists; Shar i f only for the persevering energy with which, against all adverse influences, he nobly supported the dignity of historic art; and it argues but little in favour of the taste of the period when he lived, to know that a painter, possessed of such genius, should have almost fallen a sacrifice to cold and cruel neglect. He was one of many of earth’s noblest and best sons, who cultivated the mind with which Providence had gifted them, careless whether or not they reaped themselves the bir harvest of their labours. These are the men who weigh not their talents against silver and gold—who barter not their intellect for what the world calls wealth- but are content to leave their names and their works as an inheritance to posterity. It is a fact which we are almost ashamed to put upon record, that Hilton, the best historical painter of his day, rarely received a commission ; the majority of his pictures were painted on speculation, and unprofitable speculations they generally proved to be, simply because the Art-patrons of that time were unable to appreciate them, or unwilling to recognise his genius in the only way which could be serviceable to him. Mr. Vernon in this, as in many other cases, proved an honourable exception to the remark we have just made, by requesting Hilton to paint him a picture ; the result of this commission was the picture here engraved. The passages illustrated by the artist will be found in Genesis, chapter xxiv., verses 22 and 47:- “And it came to pass, as the camels had done drinking, that the man took a golden earring, of half. a shekel weight, and two bracelets for her hands, of ten shekels weight of gold,” —and he "put the earring upon her face, and the bracelets upon her hands." The introduction of the quotation is indispensable to understand the right point of the composition. The treatment of this subject is simple, but the simplicity is that of no common mind; there is a studied, yet perfectly natural, elegance in every figure of the group. The first in importance PS ers THE VERNON GALLERY. is Rebekah, receiving, with all modesty and humility, the gifts sent her by her future father-in- law; this is in all respects a very beautiful conception. The next is the “oldest servant” of Abraham's house, one whose fidelity to his master's interests has doubtless long been tried ; he is kneeling, not so much that he might thereby the more conveniently adorn the “ damsel,” but from respect to her, and because his mission had found favour in her sight; there his head and worshipped the Lord.” The group of water-bearing maidens is charmingly composed, each so truly expressing the particular emotion of surprise, or pleasure, or curiosity, by which she is animated. The camels and their drivers, to the left, sustain the balance of the composition ; while the lofty palm trees are felicitously introduced to break the line of the figures and to impart distance. The colour of the picture is brilliant, though somewhat subdued; the time being “eventide," gave the painter the opportunity of investing his work with a warm, sunny glow. It is painted in a vehicle which, for the sake of Hilton's enduring fame, we hope will long stand the test of time, for the picture is undoubtedly one of his best. On turning over the leaves of an old magazine of the year 1833, the date of this picture, we found the following remarks upon it, fully bearing out what we had previously written :- “Rebekah and Abraham's servant, now exhibiting at the Royal Academy, seems to be a companion to his " Jacob parting with Benjamin.' The drawing in the picture is most exquisitely correct; and equally beautiful is the composition. Every figure is replete with character and expression ; the attitude and devout expression of the servant fully realises the passage of Scripture, ' And I worshipped the Lord.' The colouring of this painting equals anything ever done by Hilton ; while, for originality, and classic purity, and refinement, he has never surpassed it." in THE COLUMN OF ST. MARK-VENICE. 2. WS 12 + ... F . Home Sample ONINGTON'S name, to adopt an expression of Shakspeare, would have been one “ to conjure with ” in matters relating to painting, had he lived till his powers had reached maturity. His father for some time filled a public post in the town of Nottingham; but circumstances, which it is unnecessary to particularise, inducing him to relinquish it he commenced the practice of a portrait painter. Upon his marriage with a Miss Parkes, the latter opened a ladies' school at Arnold, about five miles from Nottingham, where Richard Parkes Bonington, the highly gifted painter of the picture here engraved, was born in October, 1801. 5 Like most others who have risen to eminence in every profession, young Bonington, who, by the way, was an only child, early discovered a strong predilection e for Art : associated, however, with one equally powerful and attractive—the love of theatricals. And thus his first efforts with his pencil and colour-box, united, in some degree, the two paramount impulses of his taste ; for his time and invention were mostly employed in the production of theatrical characters, painted on cardboard, with moveable heads and caps. Such, indeed, was his enthusiasm in favour of the drama, that his friends generally thought he would adopt the stage as a profession, especially as he was accustomed to give “ entertainments” at the house of a young companion, a son of Mr. Hulse, of Nottingham, equally enamoured with himself of histrionic display. Here young Bonington fitted up, from his own resources, a large apartment; painted all the scenes, was “acting manager,” and played the principal characters to the entire satisfaction of " a crowded house," whenever the performances took place. But in a pecuniary point of view the speculation was an unprofitable one ; the benches were full every night, yet the exchequer was empty ; in fact, the “house ” did not pay; and indeed how should it, when his numerous 'audiences were his own familiar friends ? It was time, there- fore, for the amateur tragedian to make’up his mind as to the future, especially as he was now verging towards that period when youth, without “expectations," must think of the more important business of life. Other circumstances, moreover, tended to hasten on this object 12 - - THE VERNON GALLERY. 1 The father was compelled to leave Nottingham, and take refuge in France; England was not the country for one who held such extreme political opinions as the elder Bonington pro- fessed, and which he took every opportunity of inculcating ; his imprudences estranged his friends from him, so that being deserted by those who alone could effectually assist him, he found his way, with his wife and son, to Paris, where he supported himself for some time by transacting business in connection with the lace trade. From the settlement of the family in the French capital, we must date the commencement of young Bonington's true artistic studies. His father, although perfectly aware of the youth's innate genius, had hitherto done little or nothing to cultivate it. The plant, under no circum- stances, could have been unfruitful, but it required careful treatment and judicious training to bring the fruit to perfection ; and accordingly the elder Bonington set seriously to work to provide fit instruction for his son. He first procured him admission to the Louvre, where his progress was rapid even beyond the most sanguine expectations ; from the Louvre he was entered as a student of the Royal Institute, and also became a pupil of the distinguished painter M. Le Baron Gros. But the genius of the pupil was of an order that could not be fettered by the academic rules to which his master would have confined it, so he quitted the Baron's attelier, and continued to draw from the living model at the Institute. In the year 1822, he set out for Italy, to see the country, and study the works of Art which abound therein. Although the works of Bonington had already gained him an honourable name in Paris, he was almost, if not entirely, unknown among his own countrymen. None of his pictures, we believe-certainly none of any importance,--reached England till the year 1826, when he exhibited at the British Institution two paintings. They excited among the visitors the utmost surprise and admiration, were so unlike any style of the day, so firm and broad, and exhibited such harmony, and fine chiar-oscuro, such perception of the high principles of Art and mechanical skill, as have seldom been found united. Critics and connoisseurs enquired of each other “who is Bonington?” but none seemed to know, or even to have heard of him. The picture here engraved is one of the two that were hung at the Institution, from the walls of which it was purchased by Mr. Vernon ; the after-popularity of the painter showed the correct- ness of his early patron's judgment. Poor Bonington! he had won his laurels but scarce lived to wear them. “Impelled onwards,” says an anonymous biographer who wrote of him a year or two after his death, “ to extraordinary exertions, to grapple with the flow of patronage which showered upon him, he unguardedly exposed himself to the too great heat of the sun while sketch- ing in the open air, which brought on a brain fever, and a subsequent severe illness, that terminated in a rapid consumption." He was in Paris when his disease assumed an alarming character : by the advice of some friends, though his case seemed altogether hopeless, he was induced to summon up what little strength he had left, and undertake a journey to London, for the purpose of consulting Mr. St. John Long, who was then held in some repute for his treatment of pulmonary complaints. The young artist was, however, beyond all human aid, for he expired LUI TUL Yn summon THE VERNON GALLERY, ner 80 u NO U10 soon after his arrival in the metropolis, on the 23d of September, 1828. He was buried in a vault in St. James's Church, Pentonville, amid the sincere regrets of a large number of personal friends, and of his brother artists. In this country certainly, such respect was never paid to so young an artist as was exhibited at his funeral. Sir Thomas Lawrence, the President of the Royal Academy, and Mr. Howard, the Secretary, attended at the grave, on the part of that dis- tinguished body; and Mr. Pugin and Mr. Robson as the representatives of the Society of water- colour painters. Neither were the artists of France behind his own countrymen in acknow- ledging the loss that Art sustained in his death. A writer in Le Globe says—“Bonington tried all styles except that which is called historical. What he had intended to do, was to borrow from the middle ages subjects for a series of easel pictures, in which he was desirous of com- bining and showing the value of the finish of the Dutch, the vigour of the Venetians, and the magic of the English. How deeply it is to be regretted that death struck him ere he could put such a plan into execution. He succeeded equally in marine subjects, in architecture, in landscape, and in interiors. Whether he disported with the crayon, painted in oil or water-colours, or handled the lithographic chalk, he did remarkable things. * I ramarkable things * * * * * The new school of painting has lost in him one of its most illustrious supporters.” If the “evil that men do lives after them," so also frequently does their good. We fancy that we can discern in the works of many living artists, whom it is unnecessary to refer to by name, those excellencies which Bonington may be said to have originated; for there is no painter who preceded him of whom he was a copyist, though many of his pictures remind us both of Guardi and Canaletti. If we examine the paintings of his contemporaries,—those, we mean, who had formed a style in landscape and marine subjects prior to his appearance among them,—we find them altogether different from any production of his pencil ; whilst a marked resemblance to his works may be traced in many of those which have succeeded him, by artists who have caught the infection, if the term may be permitted, from each other, and not from what the majority have themselves seen ; for, unfortunately, his pictures are too few and too far out of reach to become sources of study, except in isolated cases. There is scarcely one excellent point in Art, of which something more than the mere germs, young as the painter was when he died, may not be discovered : in design or invention,—the first matter in a picture that naturally engages the attention of the artist,—he evinced a peculiar aptitude for bringing forward those features of his subject which would show it in the most favourable light, and for arranging and expressing them in the most striking manner; this characteristic is especially seen in some of his little coast-scene sketches. His colouring is unquestionably true to Nature, though it must be observed that he is occasionally deficient in those delicate aerial tints which give such beauty to the distant landscape ; or, in other words, there is an absence of that gradation of tone which, while it unites the different parts of a subject into regular harmony, gives to each its proper place. The picture of St. Mark's is not free from this defect; for even the clearness of an Italian atmosphere ought not, pictorially, to bring the Dogana and adjacent edifices so near to the foreground buildings as they appear in THE VERNON GALLERY, his work. Bonington's drawing in his landscapes and architectural subjects is excellent; and his figures are introduced as living objects, busily engaged on some occupation, and not mere automata put in to fill vacant places. There is no doubt, had he lived long enough to carry out his intention of painting history, we should have seen some fine examples of his power to illustrate the various passions that move men to action. We must ever regret the premature death of this most promising young painter, as a severe loss to the British School of Art. We have already said that the picture of “The Column of St. Mark” was purchased by Mr. Vernon, at the British Institution ; it is a charming little work, sketchy, but vigorously painted, and full of light; the handling and general treatment is such as would be effected only by one who had an intuitive perception of his own genius, and relied solely on that for his success. Some of Bonington's sketches were admirably lithographed, shortly after his death, by Mr. J. D. Harding, and published by Mr. Carpenter, late of Bond Street, who, by the way, possesses a few of his best works. The Duke of Bedford and the Marquis of Lansdowne are also the fortunate owners of others. It is a rare circumstance to find a genuine picture or drawing by this artist offered for sale ; but when such a thing does occur, the work is sure to fetch a high price ;-a proof of the estimation in which his productions are held. ma H. WYATT. PAINTER R. BELL ENGRAVER. THE ASTRONOMER. FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY SIE SE THE FORE.. 3 FT.BE IN. SET. IN PRINTEN EY .VISTE. LONDON LUBLISHED FOR THE FRIETOES. THE ASTRONOMER. 7 . LTHOUGH there is no authentic record of the fact, we believe that this picture was exhibited at the British Institution, about fifteen years since, under the title of “The Philosopher ;” and was sold from that gallery to the late Mr. R. Simon, from whose possession it N o passed into the hands of Mr. Vernon. We have thought fit' to give the work another name one that seems more in accordance with the occupation of the venerable figure, to judge from the materials for study by which he is surrounded. Still one philosopher may calculate the circuit of the stars, and ascertain the laws that move and keep in action the heavenly bodies ; while another is engaged in searching into the mysteries of the hidden things of earth; and a third may occupy himself with both. Shakspeare was of this opinion when he makes Hamlet say: “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamed of in your philosophy:"- but Horatio was not precisely the kind of philosopher which Wyatt has here given us. It was the custom with this artist, as with many who preceded him, and as it is with some in our day, to paint a picture and give it a name afterwards. They meet, perchance, with a venerable looking old man, who is willing to sit to them, and his portrait comes forth as “ A Philosopher ;” or with one having a fierce and stern countenance, who, with the help of a little ancient armour, is transformed into “A Warrior of the Olden Time ;” and, without the polished steel, becomes “ A Brigand Chief.” If the model happen to be a female, she is turned into “ A Bride,” or perhaps “Ophelia,” or “A Gleaner.” Now all this is perfectly justifiable ; it is only using the materials at the artist's command, to the purpose which best suits him, and it gives him the opportunity of applying them to the poetry of his art ; just as the judicious landscape-painter invests his subject, common-place though it may be, with all the beauty and dignity he can impart, to give importance to it. VI UUU II THE VERNON GALLERY. U 1 rem Henry Wyatt was essentially a portrait-painter; devoting himself, almost without exception, to the practice of this branch of Art. He was born near Lichfield, in Staffordshire, in the year 1794 ; and, about the age of eighteen, came up to London, and entered as a student at the Royal Academy; studying diligently in the schools till about the middle of 1825, when he engaged with Sir Thomas Lawrence for one year, giving his services in exchange for the advantages to be derived from the President's advice, and the opportunities of assisting him in his studio. At the termination of the appointed time, Sir Thomas wished Wyatt to continue with him, offering to pay him for his assistance at the rate of three hundred pounds per annum. Wyatt, however, feeling himself now in a position to commence practice on his own account, declined the proposition. From this period till about the end of the year 1819, he was painting portraits in Birmingham ; he then removed to Liverpool, in which town, and Manchester, he continued nearly six years, when he once more came up to London, and took up his residence in Newman Street; from this time he became a constant exhibitor at the Royal Academy and the British Institution. Towards the close of 1834, his health being much impaired from a long continuance of an asthmatic affection, he removed to Leamington, where he resided till the latter end of 1837. He then determined to return again to London, but prior to his setting out, he went over to Manchester to paint some portraits for which he had received commissions. While in the latter town, in April, 1838, he had an attack of paralysis, by which he lost the use of his left side, and from which he never recovered. He lingered, however, nearly two years longer, when death released him from his severe sufferings. Wyatt was a sound and careful painter ; though he had served in the atelier of Lawrence, he seems to have caught little of that bright and sparkling inspiration which distinguishes the works of his gifted employer ; but, on the contrary, his portraits are marked by a sober, unobtrusive treatment, yet not the less truthful because so dealt with. Hence he never would have risen to the rank of a great artist, although his talents were of such an order that they would always ensure him profitable and constant employment among a class who are contented with excellence, even if it be not united to fashion-who desire a faithful representation of a friend rather than a great work of Art. “The Astronomer” is a fair example of Wyatt's powers ; the picture is well composed, and is treated with a broad effect of light and shadow, not unworthy of Rembrandt : the figure exhibits some excellent drawing in the head and hands, while the lines in the forehead and around the eyes are indicative of one “on solitary study bent ;” the tone of the work is sufficiently rich in colour, and the manipulation is solid. . ** * L X J.M.W.TURNER RA. PAINTER T. A. PRIOR, ENGRAVER. THE GOLDEN BOUGH. SIZE OF THE FICTURE, PT. 43 IN. BY 3.FT. 5 % IN FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY PRINIED BY B.BRAIN LONDON PUBLISH BORDSPROPRIETORS THE GOLDEN BOUGH. .NNOU han VODINE l T h is glorious in 2 soooo N N some incident in an unpublished poem, entitled “Fallacies V of Hope," by the artist, so at least the catalogue of the Royal Academy for 1834 informs us, he has here brought forward one of his glorious imaginative Italian landscapes. The story, whatever it may be, for we have no information on the subject, is a very subordinate portion of the work, and so little meaning seems to attach itself to the figures introduced, that it is impossible to conjecture the intention of the painter, beyond a desire to give something like vitality to what would otherwise be a magnificent solitude. A reference, however, to the sixth ok of Virgil's Æneid will afford some clue as to what the “Golden Bough” is, and will throw an imperfect light on the landscape itself. Mr. Turner called his picture “The Fates and the Golden Bough," and in Mr. Vernon's catalogue its title appeared as “ Lake Avernus, the Sybil, and the Golden Bough ;" if the painter had given us the passage from his poem which it illustrates, we should perhaps have understood him better than we are now enabled to do : in the absence of this information we must seek it from Virgil. The scene is evidently laid on the shores of Lake Avernus, which is not far from the Bay of Naples, though in depicting it the painter has indulged in an artist's license, so much so, indeed as to give us only enough of its character as suffices to identify it. The waters of this lake, according to classic writers, were so' unwholesome that no birds were ever see and the ancients used to consider it the entrance to the infernal regions. Æneas, as Virgil sings, anxious to visit the abode of his dead father, requests the Sybil who watches over the lake to conduct him thither.; to which she replies :- Tera re $ “If you so hard a task will undertake, As twice to pass th ’innavigable lake ; Receive my counsel. In the neighbouring grove There stands a tree; the queen of Stygian Jove THE VERNON GALLERY. _ _ Claims it her own; thick woods and gloomy night Conceal the happy plant from human sight. One bough it bears; but (wondrous to behold) The ductile rind and leaves of radiant gold : This from the vulgar branches must be torn And to fair Proserpine the present borne, Ere leave be given to tempt the nether skies. The first thus rent, a second will arise ; And the same metal the same room supplies. Look round the wood, with lifted eyes, to see The lurking gold upon the fatal tree : Then rend it off, as holy rites command, The willing metal will obey thy hand, Following with ease, if, favored by thy fate, Thou art foredoom'd to view the Stygian State; If not, no labour can the tree constrain, And strength of stubborn arms, and steel, are vain." DRYDEN'S Translation. UU Now although this quotation from the fable of the Latin poet gives no satisfactory interpre- tation of the picture, it will convey an idea of what the artist probably had in his mind when he painted it; and it has been thought better to offer some explanation of the subject, however vague, than to leave the reader, unacquainted with classic fiction, altogether in the dark as to what the “ Golden Bough” could mean. It is certain the figure to the left that holds the mystic bough in its hand is not Æneas; possibly Mr. Turner wrote another version of the story, which he has followed rather than that of Virgil's : the matter after all is of little moment when we regard the picture simply as an imaginative landscape composition. No painter ever represented Italian scenery with such high poetical feeling as does Turner ; the land as he shows it us seems a paradise where nothing of impurity or wretchedness could be found ; and if we knew it only through the medium of his magic pencil, such only would be the opinion entertained of it : one cannot help regretting, as we look on a picture like this, that it is only a painter's dream, not a reality—but the dream is pleasant to contemplate, even if it bring not complete satisfaction. Unquestionably the artist never painted a more noble landscape than this ; it is not the graceful combination of classic architecture, sparkling lake, and verdant hills, that renders it beautiful; the glory of the work is its highly luminous quality, the light spread over the entire breadth of the canvas, and the transparent air through which the middle distance becomes as clearly defined, allowing for the natural medium of atmosphere that intervenes, as if it were placed immediately before the eye ; while the far-off mountains fade away into a soft, misty, and indeterminable distance. The several parts of the composition are exquisitely balanced, so that no single object receives an undue position, but the most perfect harmony of form and colour is apparent throughout the whole. The “Golden Bough,” wherever it grew, could not hang in a more lovely spot than the painter has here assigned to it. INTEMPERANCE. All .. F . .. . MAN of rare genius was the late Thomas Stothard, of whom a contemporary biographer remarks, that he stood forth “at once an example of genius without eccentricity, of industry without parallel, and of devotedness to his profession, which appeared to absorb every consideration, whether it regarded the health of his body or the tone of his mind. Such recreations as he allowed himself to take were always with reference to his studies and his art ; his walks became a source of inventive results, and every object which attracted his regard, whether the design on the top of a ballad, or examples of animated nature, was to him a model that would live in his remembrance till the occasion occurred when it would be required.” 1 Stothard has not been dead many years; we remember him well; a man under the ordinary size, with hair quite silvery, and a countenance beaming with intelligence and benignity; it was impossible to see him without feeling a degree of reverence for one whose qualities of heart and mind were expressed on his face ; and as impossible to know, and not to love him. In “Arnold's Magazine of the Fine Arts” for the year 1834, an excellent monthly periodical, which has long ceased to exist, are some admirable strictures on the genius of this distinguished artist, from which we shall take the liberty of drawing somewhat largely in this brief notice. Stothard was born in Long Acre, London, in August, 1755, where his father kept a respectable public house. At an early age he evinced a taste for drawing, and amused himself by copying Houbracken's heads, and other engravings. At eight years of age he was placed at school at Stretton, near Tadcaster, the birthplace of his father, where he remained till he was of age to learn a business, when he returned to London, and was apprenticed to a pattern-drawer for brocaded silks ; but the last year of his term was cancelled in consequence of the decline in that branch of trade. During his period of service, Stothard THE VERNON GALLERY. · applied himself diligently to the study of nature from flowers and other objects of “still life," to which may be traced much of the delicacy and beauty apparent in his book illustrations ; to these, however, further reference will be made hereafter. His earliest efforts in a higher branch of art were designs for the “Town and Country Magazine,” and he soon after gained considerable notoriety by his drawings for Bell's edition of the “British Poets,” and the “Novelist's Magazine :" from this period his talents were called into requisition by every eminent publisher of illustrated works. But the ambition of the young artist was not content to rest here ; for during the time he was thus engaged by the book-trade, he was qualifying himself for still higher success by diligently studying in the Royal Academy, where he soon attracted the attention of the President, Sir Joshua Reynolds, of whom, in connexion with Stothard, the following anecdote is reported :—Reynolds was requested by Sir John Hawkins to design a frontispiece for Ruggle's Latin play of “ Ignoramus ;" he declined it by saying, “There is a young artist here of the name of Stothard, who will do it much better than I can, go to him.” The first picture exhibited by Stothard was a subject from the Iliad, “Ajax defending the body of Patroclus :" in 1785, being then only thirty years of age, he was elected an Associate, an honour rarely bestowed upon one so young, even in those days of the infancy of this institution, but which was doubtless considered to be justly due to the superior talents of the artist. The title of Royal Academician was conferred in 1794 ; in 1810 he was appointed deputy librarian to the Academy; and on the death of Mr. Birch, two years after, succeeded him as librarian. The easel pictures of Stothard are few in number compared with his designs for books and other publications, yet one of these paintings would be enough to establish the reputation of the artist. And first, for character and originality, may be placed the “ Canterbury Pilgrims :" an engraving from this picture was commenced by L. and P. Schiavonetti, both of whom died during its progress ; it was finished by the late James Heath. Few, if any, engravings of that period, were so popular with the public, and early proofs are now highly esteemed by the genuine collector, though subsequent prints of a totally different character, and from the productions of other painters, have succeeded in throwing Stothard's fine work into the shade ; still it is more generally known than most of his other compositions. “The Procession of the Flitch of Bacon," a sort of companion piece to the “Pilgrims," is a more recent performance, and if possessing less of original and expressive character than the latter, is a composition of rare worth and excellence. In these, and in some other of his pictures, there is a tendency to follow the olden style of art, perhaps what in our day we should call a leaning towards “Pre-Raffaellitism,” but in no degree to such an extent as to lower the spirit, or lessen the beauty, of his work. “However desirable it might seem,” says the writer to whom allusion has been made, “ that Stothard should have been employed on' works of larger dimensions, and such as would have appeared of more national interest, it may be questioned whether such employment would have ACC IuI 1 EL THE VERNON GALLERY. 17 LIU CI C Y CUL extended his fame in an equal degree with his more numerous and smaller productions ; certain it is, the gratification arising from them must have been far more limited ; nor could they have diffused that taste for, or that amusement derived from, the Fine Arts. The designs for book- prints and publications of that class, may be called an epoch in the period of such works; they not only created a desire in the public mind to look forward periodically for their appearance, but they were also productive of a more laboured and beautiful style of engraving, than had, till then, been seen in embellishments to printed works.” Stothard may be said to have opened the way for the long and varied list of 'Annuals,' which for many years held possession of the public mind, bringing out an immense array of artistic talent of which we are still reaping the fruits. His own versatile genius was frequently employed in designing for these ephemeral publications, ephemeral only, because the public taste had become satiated with the mediocrity which marked the majority of those of later date : there were, however, among the earlier volumes of every kind, hundreds of gems that would have done honour to any school or period. Among the designs with which the fame of Stothard is indissolubly connected, is that he made for the Shield presented by the Corporation of London to the Duke of Wellington, when Napoleon had been compelled to relinquish his empire for the island of Elba. The arduous and laborious task of composing and etching this work was almost self-imposed ; “for though the artist's ulterior object might have been profit, yet his views were higher ; for when at work upon the plate, he was questioned by a friend how he could bring himself to encounter a performance of such labour and time, his answer was,—It is the enterprise of the thing.” A comparison of this work with that of Flaxman's shield of Achilles, will show how differently constituted were the minds of the two great artists, and how the sublimity of the one was balanced, so to speak, by the elegance and delicacy of the other : nature cast them in moulds totally distinct, but on each was the impress of pure, elevated, and original genius, peculiar to his own individual character. The name of Stothard appears among those painters who executed pictures for Boydell's edition of Shakspeare : his first style of painting was like that of Mortimer, who flourished towards the close of the last century, and whose chief characteristics he so closely imitated that many of Stothard's earlier works have been taken for those of that vigorous painter. In his later productions, however, he followed the bent of his own genius, which inclined to the gentle and tender. He died, full of years and of honours, in 1834. The small sketch in the “ Vernon Collection” entitled “Intemperance," is the original work from which he painted the fresco on the grand staircase of Burleigh House, Northamptonshire, the fine baronial seat of the Marquis of Exeter, one of the most magnificent mansions in the kingdom, which stands even now almost as perfect as when the distinguished ancestor of the family, the Lord High Treasurer, feasted his Sovereign, Elizabeth, and her gorgeous court in its noble hall. The picture now ornamenting the staircase is the largest Stothard ever painted ; it was commenced in 1798, and occupied the artist during the summer months of four consecutive summers. “Intemperance” is symbolised by groups of bacchanals, sylphs, and THE VERNON GALLERY. er YT other figures, surrounding the principal group, which is supposed to represent Marc Antony and Cleopatra : the syren Queen of Egypt is dropping a pearl into the goblet of the enamoured Roman, while Cupids are running away with his armour. The subject is treated with infinite power and beauty of composition, and with a most brilliant effect of light and shade : it is full of poetical feeling, which, if not of the most refined and agreeable order, is certainly free from that offensive vulgarity that a less delicately moulded spirit than Stothard's would possibly have thrown into such a scene. The grouping of the various personages is excellent, and the part each plays is perfectly appropriate to the occasion ; while the floriated decorations introduced add greatly to the richness of the general colouring, and seem to give warmth to the flesh-tints of the naked figures. And here we come to the great defects of the work ; these figures, for the most part, are ungraceful and ill-drawn, some of them indeed, perfectly distorted; it is much to be regretted that with such powers of composition as Stothard possessed, and with an eye for colour scarcely below that of Titian, his pictures should be so frequently shorn of their beauty by his defective drawing: had he been more careful on this point their value would be enhanced tenfold. In all his female figures especially we see purity of design and delicate execution marred by mis-shapen forms and inelegant proportions : in the present instance this is so obvious as to render it unnecessary to direct attention to individual examples where they occur, detracting so much from the excellence of the work. eruntam THE FAIR SLEEPER. ben E presume this picture to be a portrait, one of those works which Jo 0 Wyatt was sometimes accustomed to paint, and give to them titles that would indicate something beyond mere portraits ; for, if we mistake not, it was exhibited at the Royal Academy, in 1835, and A AV ID called “Vigilance," in allusion to the watchfulness shown by the A favourite dog while his mistress sleeps ; the attitude of the little animal and the expression of its face point out an intruder at hand from whom he would jealously guard “The Fair Sleeper.” With all due respect to the lady we think the chief interest of the work lies less with her than with her companion, inasmuch as life speaks more eloquently of character than death, or its twin-sister, sleep. Byron was of this opinion in that exquisitely, beautiful passage from the “Giaour” in which he compared the then state of Greece to a body from which life has departed; he admits the loveliness which death may assume, but, — į “So coldly sweet, so deadly fair, We start--for soul is wanting there." A picture of one sleeping conveys to our mind just the same idea, and however cleverly it may be painted, as in that by Wyatt, it loses its charm simply because it lacks vitality, and consequently, expressiveness and action. Let any who doubt the correctness of this opinion, just separate the dog from the figure of the female, and the truth of our assertion will at once be apparent ; the latter is intended to be the most prominent feature in the composition, but the former is unquestionably so; and if this be taken away, there is nothing left to impart the slightest interest to the work, with all its excellencies as a piece of sound and truthful painting ; but the two figures viewed together compose into a pleasing picture, simply because the combination invests it with the character of a subject that leaves the mind something upon which to dwell. It is good policy on the part of a painter to give to portraiture that which will add to its THE VERNON GALLERY. interest, without diminishing the chief object he should have in view ; the thousands who visit our Royal Academy annually, care little or nothing for a portrait, unless it be of an acquaintance, or of some distinguished individual ; but when it assumes the definite form of a subject that tells a story, or elucidates an incident, it immediately engages attention like any other imaginative or descriptive work. And it would be so easy a matter for an artist to do this in most cases, that we are surprised it is not more frequently attempted ; warriors and statesmen, and those who have earned high reputation among their fellows, are almost invariably represented in the performance of some act by which their names have become honourable, and there can be no reason why others “unknown to fame” may not be pictured as thinking and acting creatures, and not as mere automata. Our picture galleries might thus always be made more historical than they now are ; historical, that is, in what relates, actually or imaginary, to the pursuits of those whose likenesses depend from their walls. The plan, if carried out judiciously, would give an entirely new feature to portrait-painting, and raise it from a mere mechanical art, as it now too frequently appears to be, to one of higher dignity and greater power. . We have assumed, throughout these remarks, that the picture of “The Fair Sleeper ” is a portrait, and it is possible that we are mistaken in thus describing it, inasmuch as we once heard it said by a lady,“ that no one would choose to have a portrait taken when asleep.” Probably such may be the case, but if so, the fact does not affect our argument, against the picturing a sleeping figure even though she be “ beauteous as the daughter of Eve, fairer than a polished jewel.” RED-CAP. . .. TT . OLLAND, for upwards of two centuries, has been the country where fruit and flower painting have been most practised. In glancing over a list of Dutch artists from the commencement of the sixteenth century, even to the present day, it is astonishing to find how many names are associated with this branch of art alone; to enumerate the most distinguished of whom would occupy no inconsiderable space : but it is scarcely possible to allude to the subject without thinking of Fyt, De Heem, Bosch, Huysum, father and son, Mignon of early date, and Van and Van Os of the present century, all of whose pictures are valued at a Hoe very high rate ; neither must it be forgotten that the pencils of Rubens, Jordaens, and Jansen were sometimes employed in imitating the productions of the hot-house and the garden. Yet the popularity of the art with the Dutch will cease to excite astonishment, when we recollect the enthusiasm they have long shown in the cultivation of fruit and flowers, especially the latter, which at one period amounted to a positive passion that brought ruin and misery upon thousands. We have had in England our “South Sea Bubble,” and our railway speculations, but neither of these exceeded in absurdity, nor entailed more disastrous consequences than the “Tulipomania” which infected the Low Countries in 1634 and the three following years, when the dealing in tulip roots was carried to so great an extent as to become a gambling transaction in which large capitals were embarked in hopes of realising enormous profits. Beckmann, in his “ History of Inventions” tells us that for a single root of one particular kind of tulip, a person offered four thousand florins, a new carriage, two grey horses, and complete harness for them: another agreed to give twelve acres of land for a root; while those who had not money exchanged for bulbs, their goods, houses, lands, cattle, and clothes. Another writer upon this extraordinary mania says that one man cleared by his speculations upwards of sixty thousand florins in four months. The whole country, from the highest noble to the meanest individual who could get together a few florins, embarked more or less in these transactions, till THE VERNON GALLERY. the Dutch government found it necessary to put a stop to a pursuit that led to such disastrous consequences. But the ardent love of flowers, and of the tulip in particular, has never subsided in the country; and hence arises the eminent position attained by the Dutch artists, who have never failed to meet with abundant patronage for their fruit and flower pieces. Until very recently these subjects have occupied but little of the attention of English artists, and with the exception of Mr. Lance, the practice has been chiefly confined to our water-colour painters, among whom, Hunt, Bartholomew, Mrs. Margetts, and Mrs. Harrison stand unrivalled for the truth and exquisite delicacy of their works ; while the name of Lance merits companionship with those of the best Dutch painters who preceded him as a painter of fruit pieces ; flowers he very rarely attempts. It was by a mere chance that he adopted this department of the fine arts in preference to any other : originally intended for a historical painter, he studied for some years under Haydon, who, while standing one day at the Royal Academy, shortly before his death, before a picture by his pupil, remarked to a friend,—“Yes, and Lance was a pupil of mine ; how can I regret that he should have set aside what I taught him to paint in this way?” At the suggestion of his master Lance also attended the schools of the Royal Academy, and went through several courses of anatomical studies, with the view of perfecting himself in drawing the human figure, till the time arrived when it was deemed expedient for him to try his hand on a historical subject; but before commencing it was thought advisable for him to practise a little with colour, and a group of fruit was set before him for this purpose. The work was finished, and so successfully, that having been seen by Mr. Creswick, the distinguished landscape painter, he bought it. A similar subject of greater pretensions followed which was presented to the late Earl of Shaftesbury, who gave the artist a commission for a companion picture. Lance's path was now before him, diligently and prosperously has he pursued it, to his own credit, and to the reputation of the English School. The picture entitled “Red-Cap," is so designated from the colour of the cap worn by the monkey,—a “ bit” of colour by the way, whose brilliancy tells with a most powerful effect upon the other portions of the work, giving them a richness truly surprising. The subject easily tells its own tale; a monkey has found his way into a sort of larder, and is gazing intently, over a basket of vegetables, upon a dead duck, which he evidently desires to secure for himself, not it may be presumed for the purpose of eating, but for mischief's sake. The expression of the animal's face is full of meaning, while all the other parts of the picture are painted“ to the life.” The management of the light and shade in the work is worthy of Rembrandt. The picture from which this engraving is copied was painted expressly for Mr. Vernon, but it is the duplicate of one in the possession of Mr. Broderip FRIEERA. PAINTER B. RATCLIFFE, ENGRAVER MORNING ON THE SEA COAST. FROM THE PICTURE IN THE VERNON GALLERY SIZE OF THE PICTURE 3.FT. 74 IN. BY 2.FT 10 IN PRINTED BY QUEEN MORNING ON THE SEA-COAST. HOW ERHAPS there is no county in England possessing fewer attractions to the landscape-painter than Lincolnshire, from which, it is believed, Mr. Lee's picture is taken. Flat and monotonous, a large portion of it consisting entirely of fens or “levels,” among which is a considerable part of the celebrated “Bedford level,” there is neither hill, dale, nor wood, of any extent to give it a varied and picturesque character ; the nearest approximation to elevated ground X A N is a range of chalk downs, or “Wolds,” as they are there called, extending for nearly fifty miles from Barton-upon-Humber to Wainfleet. In fact, this large, and, in an agricultural point of view, most important county has not inaptly been compared, in spring-time when the crops are young, to a vast bowling-green, which, on one side, seems actually to recede into the sea. But a journey through this huge marsh district exhibits many interesting features that will not be lost on the intelligent traveller, not the least of which is the proof afforded him of what indefatigable labour and skill, properly applied, can accomplish. He will see vast tracts of land, that were, not many years since, little else than pestilential swamps generating disease and 'death all around, converted into “living pastures,” and other tracts, wholly or partially reclaimed from the sea, covered with luxurious crops of corn of every kind ; indeed, there are few counties which, in comparison with its size, can boast of having a larger number of cultivated acres than Lincolnshire.. But if so devoid of interest to the painter, the antiquarian and the architect will find it abound in subjects. for their amusement and study. Lindum, now the modern city of Lincoln, is mentioned by Ptolenáy: as one of the two chief towns of the Coritani, and is presumed to have been a . Roman calonty, ; Newport Gate, the only one now remaining that formed a portion of the ancient walls of the city, is among the most remarkable relics of the old conquerors of Britain to be found in the kingdom. In 1795 there were discovered at the village of Scampton, IV THE VERNON GALLERY. about six miles north of Lincoln, the foundations of a Roman villa, occupying a site of about two hundred square feet, and having upwards of forty apartments on the ground plan, with painted and stuccoed walls, and thirteen Roman pavements, of which, however, only one was perfect. In numerous other parts of the county, antiquities of various kinds and in considerable quantities have been discovered, all tending to show that in early ages it contained several places of great importance. The admirer of ecclesiastical architecture cannot fail to be highly gratified by inspecting the beautiful churches that abound in Lincolnshire, as well as many interesting monastic and baronial remains. In travelling through the various parts of England, we have frequently noticed the different styles in which churches were erected, to suit, as it were, the character of the respective localities. In hilly and elevated districts, the low square tower generally prevails, sometimes crowned with a spire of little altitude, but more often without; while in parts of the country that are comparatively level, we see lofty spires rising to a height that renders them beacons to the traveller while yet far distant from them. This is especially the case in the fens of Lincolnshire and in those of the neighbouring county of Huntingdonshire. The cathedral of Lincoln, the churches of Louth, Boston, Sleaford, Spalding, all in the former county, are among the finest specimens of ecclesiastical architecture to be met with in the kingdom ; indeed it would be impossible to find an equal number of edifices in any part of England possessing more variety and excellence of composition than one notices in the towns and more populous villages of this extensive county. The most important monastic remains are those of the Abbey of Croyland, erected about the end of the eleventh century; and of Thornton Abbey erected towards the middle of the twelfth century : there are others also of lesser magnitude, well worthy the attention of the antiquarian student. It is time, however, to pass from these discursive observations to notice Mr. Lee's picture, which has given rise to them. The work is of considerable size, larger, perhaps, than the scantiness of material composing it justifies, so that we think it would have been more effective if painted on a smaller canvas. The sketch seems to be taken from that low part of the coast which, as already remarked, appears to recede into the sea, except in the extreme distance where a glimpse of the downs is visible. In the middle distance stands a fisherman's hut, the only sign of habitation that meets the eye, although there must be others not far off, judging from the various figures introduced : the principal feature in the scene, without which indeed it would be almost a blank, is the group in the foreground; this is brought in with much skill, so as to give elevation to the subject, while it leads the eye, almost imperceptibly, to the other parts of the composition subordinate to it. The sun is rising brilliantly behind the principal figures, throwing them into strong relief, and reflecting the clouds above over the whole of the foreground. The balance of light and shade throughout this work shows a perfect knowledge of what is necessary to produce effect, and of the means whereby it may be satisfactorily attained without infringing the laws of harmony. ASS UICE THE FLOWER-GIRL. VUC URSUING the plan that has been adopted in the notices which accompany this series of engravings from the Vernon Gallery, in giving, where it seems most suitable, a biographical sketch of the deceased artists whose works form a portion of that collection, the introduction of the “Flower-Girl” affords an oppor- tunity of making some remarks on the professional career of Henry Howard, an artist for many years most favourably known to the MI ) IN WW SHIPPINE A - - - ni in this national collection as they might have been. Unfortunately this is the only picture by him that hangs upon the walls in Marlborough House, and it, though truly excellent of its kind, would lead to the belief, where the contrary was not known, that Howard was a portrait-painter only ; whereas, the best of his works are of a purely imaginative and poetical character, as will be shown in the following brief narrative. Henry Howard, R.A., was born in 1770, two years after the foundation of the Royal Academy; to which institution he first contributed in 1794, while studying at Rome: from which city he sent to the Academy a picture from Gessner's “ Death of Abel.” From this period to the time of his decease, in 1847, his name appeared without, it is believed, a single intermission in the catalogues of the annual exhibitions at Somerset House, and in Trafalgar Square ;-a singular instance, not only of perseverance and assiduous attention to his profession, but likewise of that freedom from uncontrollable circumstances which, at one time or another, are generally found to interrupt a continuous practice throughout a life prolonged to near four-score years. In 1795, he returned to London, and took up his residence in the Strand, near to Somerset House ; contributing to the exhibition of the same year four pictures—“Puck,” “ Ariel,” “Satan Awaking in the Burning Lake," and a portrait. In 1796, he exhibited six pictures, the principal being, “The Planets Drawing Light from the Sun,” and “ The Rise of Morning." The two following years produced several works of a similar character, as well as some portraits. THE VERNON GALLERY. Like many other painters who would gladly have devoted their talents to the production of ideal or historical works, Howard found that portrait-painting was, after all, the more lucrative branch of the arts ; and to that, for some time, he chiefly confined his practice, yet without entirely neglecting the more pleasing and varied department to which he was sincerely and devotedly attached. His reputation, however, had now become so firmly established among the leading artists of the time that, in 1801, he was elected an Associate of the Academy, to which he sent that year, “ A Scene from Comus," “ Achilles Wounded by Paris,” and “The Angel Waking Peter in the Prison.” In 1801, 1802, and 1803, respectively, he exhibited “ Love Animating the statue of Pygmalion,” “Mutius Scævola,” and “The Sounding of the Sixth Angel's Trumpet ;” and, in the following year, “Sabrina." In 1806, he produced his “Hero and Leander,” one of his very best pictures ; and, in 1807, “ The Infant Bacchus Brought by Mercury to the Nymphs of Nysa." In 1807, Howard and the late T. Phillips the portrait- painter, were elected Academicians, when the former sent in as his diploma picture, “The Four Angels Issuing from the River Euphrates.” On the death of Richards, in 1811, Howard succeeded him in the honourable post of Secretary to the Royal Academy; and in 1833, on the resignation of Phillips, he was appointed Professor of Painting, both of which offices he continued to fill to within a short period of his death, which took place at Oxford in 1847. It will readily be supposed that so long and unwearied a professional life, as was Howard's, would necessarily produce a multitude of pictures ; the list already given contains only some of his principal works. Independent of his portraits, which were exceedingly numerous, and chiefly of an ideal character, or habited in the quaint costumes of bygone ages, he painted a large number of subjects embracing the widest range of mythological history, or borrowed from Shakspeare and Milton. “Paradise Lost," “ Comus," "The Æneid,” and “ The Odyssey," were the treasure- houses which opened up to the painter inexhaustible sources of imaginative wealth. Occasionally, too, we find him referring to sacred history, as in his “ Jewish Exiles,”—and “ The Nativity.” It may very naturally be asked then, “what has become of all these works, the result of so prolonged a lifetime and of such professional assiduity ?”—but the question is not so easily answered. Few of the collections of our principal amateurs contain any examples of Howard's pencil; the Duke of Sutherland possesses one of the best, “ The Hours;" the Marquis of Lansdowne, at his seat, Bowood, Wiltshire, has “ A Female with a Mandoline;" and among Mr. Sheepshanks's fine collection of English masters, are two or three specimens; and in the “Soane Museum ” are a subject from “ Comus," “ Lear and Cordelia,” and “ The Contention of Oberon and Titania ;" but beyond these we cannot with certainty point out where others are to be met with. Whether the majority of his ideal pictures ever found purchasers is a matter of some doubt ; if they did, they are very closely concealed from public recognition. The truth is, Howard, although, as previously remarked, favourably known as an artist, did not succeed in attaining such a degree of popularity as would suffice to make his works covetable ; he was too high for one class of collectors, not high enough for the other : his subjects were too classical to please the ordinary purchaser, while his skill as an artist did not reach that point . are THE VERNON GALLERY. Y WU which the lover of pure and genuine art desired to have. Possessing a refined taste and some- what cultivated mind, which directed his pencil to the fabulous heroes and heroines of antiquity, rather than to the truths which history brings before us or the ordinary occurrences of daily life, he still was deficient in the ability to work out his ideas with certainty and success. Yet in the absence of much that is necessary to constitute a great painter, his earlier works, especially, are entitled to no little commendation ; his later pictures exhibiting but too plainly, indications of feebleness of conception and decaying powers of execution. Nor must he be denied the merit of persevering in a course of practice which, in itself, takes rank with the loftiest, and which, so far as his own pecuniary interests were concerned, he “ loved not wisely, but too well.” Had he been born twenty years earlier, his name might have been honourably enrolled among the original founders of the Academy; as it is, however, his works may be regarded as connecting links between the past and the present generation of British artists, partaking of each, yet recognised by neither, and adding but little to the reputation of our School. The picture of “The Flower Girl” is, it is believed, a portrait of Miss Howard, daughter of the painter; it was exhibited at the Royal Academy under the title of “The Artist's Daughter ;" re, though erect, is easy, the expression of the face is sweet and contemplative, and the work is painted with delicacy, and a most harmonious tone of rich but sober colouring, relieved by the gay hues of the flowers, and by a bright green ribbon that confines the sleeves of the dress. The subject seems to suggest some such idea as is conveyed in the following lines :- A maiden walked out in a garden one morn, While the dew-drops still covered its emerald lawn, And the breezes, 'mid sunshine, played o'er the parterre, Gently parting her tresses of dark auburn hair. She gathered white lilies, the sweet honey-bell, And clusters of blossoms where bees love to dwell ; And she bore them away her own lattice to grace, But a rose-bud she plucked, found a more favoured place. First scatt'ring the moisture that made its leaves wet, She stripped off the thorns on its tender stalk set, Then laid it to rest in her bosom,---a shrine That would hallow the costliest gem of the mine. Oh, why did that maid choose to honour the rose, Of all the gay flowers the garden bestows ? It has many as sweet, and as many as fair, And some that surpass it in beauty are there. But methought as she placed it I heard a voice say, “Bright rose-bud, whose fragrance outlives thy decay- I would that, like thee, my heart's graces may shed An odour of holiness when I am dead." The lectures delivered by Howard in his capacity of Professor of Painting, at the Royal Academy, are far below those of Reynolds and Fuseli, in dealing with the philosophy of art. THE VERNON GALLERY. But his intellectual powers were of no mean order, and this, added to his technical knowledge of painting, and a refinement, approaching to elegance of expression, made him a judicious and agreeable critic. We may cite as an example of these qualities the following extract from his remarks upon the genius of Lawrence. “In the intellectual treatment of his portraits he has produced a surprising variety of happy and original combinations, and has generally conveyed, with the feeling and invention of a poet, the best representation of his subjects, seizing the most interesting expression of countenance which belonged to each ; in this respect he has perhaps shown a greater dramatic power than either of his illustrious rivals, Vandyke and Velasquez ; and, certainly, in painting beauty he yields to none. He has sometimes been censured for rather a theatrical taste in his attitudes, approaching to the meretricious ; but in general they are dignified, graceful, and easy. Early in life he aimed at a depth and richness of tone more readily to be found in Titian and the best Italian colourists, than in the hues of nature in this country; but he gradually quitted this style, and imitated closely the freshness of his models as he found them ; striving to give his works the utmost brilliancy and vigour of which his materials were capable. Hence, if his pictures seldom possess the mellow sweetness of Reynolds, he often surpassed him in some of the above-mentioned qualities. In vivid and varied chiar'oscuro he has perhaps no rival, and may be said to have enlarged the boundaries of his art, changing by degrees the character of our annual exhibitions, and giving them at length one of acknowledged and unprecedented splendour. This extraordinary force and vivacity of effect, the gracefulness of his manipulation, and those animated expressions of the human face divine' which his powerful skill in drawing enabled him to fix so admirably on canvas, constitute his peculiar distinction and glory as an original artist, and his unquestionable claim to the title of a man of genius.” la = n; - -- - 学上學 ​。 事者 ​。 中正大學三年​, .11 -11 F1摩至南市 ​4 : 事 ​: : ** |, : , .: , 生事​, '. ' it ( 31 13: 會是其中​, ", , ..-1 雪是​. * “ . : 是 ​代表​” 我​: 」 ! . ! . . 主 ​“ t, 1 , i ,, , , ,, ,, " t 事 ​"", 教rs . { f" * 样品 ​事 ​基 ​; 本上​。 长 ​: d": :: , 华 ​; ? . . - 产 ​业 ​* 1. 是 ​: ; 4 . 真是​,学生一世​: 我看​, “ 中 ​A , 其 ​at" 中 ​, s , * w , :重量 ​一 ​: A : 1. 鲁量​:14· C 整​。 A. 的事情​。 TC在​, , 年差​: * ... H , EL : e v .. , 中 ​' 经过这次的 ​. 5 中 ​关系​, : 1. i , 手 ​it', ,看了​!” : : ::变化​, 年 ​: : adi件 ​是​, : , ,平 ​+ T UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN 其实 ​数学​:“ - - 作者​: 清 ​, 車 ​了 ​, 重量​:1.1 基 ​- - 1 . | | | 游戏 ​| | | 重​。#重重​, III 其中一員會 ​: ) III 也不是了​,身體才 ​我 ​, 11 | - 其他​: いしいという ​もの ​*独特的 ​. TELL || | | || !! III | || || 11/11 | | | | | 4 重型 ​我要在此 ​. 量 ​. 这 ​“ 建 ​科学技 ​意的事 ​了多少 ​41 了​! リールシスがみたちよ​!またすらかにしよう​、 お ​. 业 ​: ” “r" 国地位投影地 ​上一章 ​早上 ​, 语四级 ​基于 ​HAL 中 ​39015 03197 3392 * 。”其中唐 ​· 参事 ​中学 ​- · = 我的家 ​水平​。 = 为主​, 14: 事​,, Preth 第 ​“ 中 ​# C 在 ​Uri,主分起 ​是 ​《 大 ​“ YAMA 、售中 ​中 ​9 求关性 ​在 ​; 出差​, 1 不是​。 - - , ” 先进 ​” 於我 ​, 中​, : 家装 ​学 ​, 其中​! 重 ​。” 本我的 ​- 了分手​, 其他 ​学生中开上中 ​,或 ​事實 ​, ** * M 是 ​一学年 ​其中​, 代表 ​光 ​不是​,” 的​, 不是出 ​善者书事​。 关于我 ​基本上​, 北部​、 IMG4中​; 其中一 ​人民 ​, 考 ​“ 我场在线 ​在我国​, , , 修 ​也将出现一半 ​当然​, 以ENTIA . # 律​. , 是我 ​1. . 中 ​中集為 ​4 . 一 ​, 产 ​, * 排行 ​事事- ​和 ​3 +产业 ​1 基于 ​*学校 ​学生在 ​。 “公子 ​再 ​“ 中国共产 ​本文章 ​我 ​もこんなもんか​!! : , 12日出生的人​, 我的心 ​對此​在 ​LA- EL, 艺在线 ​: 1 为了 ​在 ​1. T 在我身 ​于 ​我并不是我​, 其实​, 说道我 ​, 中場 ​们 ​年十一 ​重其事 ​文中 ​产业 ​, 不是我一生一 ​是我的生产​,产 ​是我​, 其中​,, 是事 ​一种是對的 ​,我 ​, 这是一 ​中文​: 主對手​“ ? 产者 ​一行​, 事实上​, 中国书​。 上一章​: 拉拉拉 ​事实 ​作者​: ANTHr以为我的学生 ​再生产线 ​样本 ​在家 ​的 ​不要 ​人生​,是一 ​RSS 不是没有 ​NEWS 內外市场​,产业带也分不中​, 到线上 ​地产 ​东北地 ​年十一体事 ​?” 我答 ​汉中​, : 出来​,也是 ​式 ​, , 4 事 ​, 在中 ​,将在 ​14:41 。 ,, ” “ 你 ​其他 ​量是平等的​, 中国经济 ​我们的人生 ​来的​, 书中 ​一人​, 革 ​上一章 ​, 是 ​大家都 ​: : * - 一事 ​, : 三十年的学生 ​。 是 ​“ 考 ​“ THE , 也 ​中共中人 ​YY 星​”, 在生​“老 ​一年 ​高 ​1 中国的​“ 。 : 我 ​いまいち ​: T “举着手指 ​老 ​其實​, : 手术的进 ​14: LIU 44 ** 上市​, 主共存​, 4, , ANSYS 。 · ?事是 ​A 过一个大的方式 ​, 第一年​, 外 ​, 一是有其 ​就是 ​? 平​, 。 学生上 ​重量​: 找一找​, ? 作为 ​4 “民生​” -14 1 7 什 ​学​”的一代 ​我 ​-- ? 出现 ​一生A4Y A4% “EN 钱 ​其他​、 YELPM 中​, “ 生物​, 打開 ​直等​, 建 ​其 ​... 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