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 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS 
 
 BY 
 
 THOMAS GRIFFITHS WAINEWRIGHT
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS 
 
 THOMAS GRIFFITHS WAINEWRIGHT 
 
 NOW FIRST COLLECTED 
 WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR 
 
 BY 
 
 W. CAEEW HAZLITT 
 
 LONDON 
 REEVES & TTJENEE 196 STKAND 
 
 1880
 
 LONDON : BOWDEN, HUDSON AND CO., PRINTERS, 
 23, RED LION STREET, HOLBORN.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 I HAVE been asked by the publishers to collect 
 all that is reasonably possible respecting the 
 personal and literary career of Thomas Griffiths 
 Wainewright, an acquaintance of Charles Lamb, 
 of my grandfather, and of many other individuals 
 of note, belonging to that set and that period 
 the original of Bulwer Lytton's VAENEY, and the 
 husband of that author's LTJCRETIA CLAVERIXG. 
 
 Wainewright, I find, is not much mentioned 
 by his contemporaries and by those who came 
 immediately after him. Far less are his name, 
 his character, and his melodramatic history re- 
 collected to-day. 
 
 I have examined a large assemblage of diaries, 
 autobiographies, and correspondence of the time, 
 in the hope of obtaining information or clues, 
 but I have not been quite so successful as I 
 anticipated, looking at the social position which 
 Wainewright occupied during several years, and 
 his friendly intercourse with so many men of 
 letters.
 
 vi PKEFACE. 
 
 The result of my researches, however, is given 
 in the following pages, and, on the whole, I have 
 added a good deal to the knowledge of Waine- 
 wright's youth, parentage, and personal connexions. 
 On one or two points relevant to his biography 
 I have been obliged by private considerations to 
 be a little less copious than I can, to borrow the 
 American phrase. But no essentials have been 
 sacrificed. 
 
 The attempt to make something of the case ap- 
 peared to be warranted by the uniqueness of the 
 circumstances. The story presents itself to my 
 mind as a curiosity of literature far more striking, 
 and far more isolated in its characteristics, than 
 anything to be found in the pages of Disraeli the 
 elder. 
 
 When we look at the man's origin, his ante- 
 cedents, his association with letters and literary 
 men, his antiquarian tastes and artistic accomplish- 
 ments, and with all these things contrast the 
 painful and vicious passages of his maturer life, 
 it brings before us a history almost unparalleled in 
 its singularity and sadness. 
 
 The late Mr. Walter Thornbury, in his "Old 
 Stories Ee-told," 1870, has formed out of Waine- 
 wright's contributions to the London Magazine, 
 assisted by the ordinary sources of intelligence, a 
 smartly written, but flimsy abridgment of this 
 case. The republication at large of the papers 
 in the Magazine, accompanied by as accurate and 
 complete a version of the whole affair as I could 
 collect from extant or accessible materials, appeared
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 to be a more authentic and satisfactory way of 
 setting about the erection of a WEATHERCOCK mo- 
 nument: where one had to do with a business, 
 too, in which truth was to the full as strange as 
 romance. 
 
 But an even wider departure from the facts 
 is manifest in a novelette by Dickens, called 
 "Hunted Down," (originally contributed to the 
 New York Ledger). Of course, the story, as a 
 story, is amusing enough, and reduces to tatters (in 
 Dickens's usual way) the hero's idiosyncrasy of 
 wearing a middle parting ; but Wainewright's real 
 career would have been far more so. Dickens, 
 perhaps, thought differently thought, at least, 
 that the enterprising American firm which is said 
 to have given 1000 for the little work of fiction, 
 would not have cared to give such a sum for 
 a poor array of biographical details. 
 
 Whatever Wainewright's sins might be, a want 
 of knowledge and cultivation was hardly to be 
 reckoned among them. His conversance with 
 literature was far in excess of any possessed either 
 by Mr. Justice Talfourd or by Mr. Walter 
 Thornbury. 
 
 There can, I think, be no reasonable doubt that 
 the ascription of the essays in the London Magazine, 
 purporting to have been written by CORNELIUS 
 VAN VINKBOOMS and EGOMET BONMOT, to the pen of 
 Wainewright is quite correct ; and from editorial 
 hints in the Magazine, under dates of February, 
 1822, and January, 1823, one might feel disposed 
 to suspect that the same hand was concerned in
 
 VU1 PREFACE. 
 
 the fabrication of sundry pseudo-Eliana ; but I 
 believe that the cliaracter of tlu late Elia, printed 
 below, is the only production of this sort, for 
 which Wainewright is really answerable. 
 
 It may be fairly and honestly affirmed that 
 no probable channel of information has been over- 
 looked in this biographical essay; and the small 
 items out of which I have tried to construct 
 a connected narrative have been collected together 
 with unusual difficulty, and often from sources 
 far apart. I have dealt occasionally, I own, in 
 inferences and presumptions ; and perhaps it may 
 be judged, after all, that I have made too loud a stir 
 about a case which belongs, no doubt, to the family 
 of nuyce literarice. 
 
 W. C. H. 
 
 KENSINGTON, January, 1880.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF 
 THOMAS GRIFFITHS WAINEWRIGHT. 
 
 Ralph Griffiths, Esq., LL.D., was born in Shrop- 
 shire in 1720 ; of his beginnings we know nothing, 
 till we find him the assistant of Mr. Jacob 
 Robinson, bookseller, in Ludgate Street. Robinson, 
 from being a dealer in spectacles, became a book- 
 seller and a critic ; and it is reasonably supposed 
 that young Griffiths imbibed his literary tastes 
 from his early employer. Thomas Davies, the 
 bookseller of whom Johnson said that he was not 
 a bookseller but " a gentleman who dealt in books," 
 used to frequent Robinson's shop, and although he 
 found him intelligent, he preferred the society and 
 conversation of Griffiths, who was nearer his own 
 age. This was about 1742, when Griffiths was 
 two-and-twenty. 
 
 As I am not writing an account either of 
 Griffiths or of Robinson, I shall hasten to state 
 that in 1749, when Griffiths was in the neighbour-
 
 X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 hood of thirty, he formed the adventurous design 
 of instituting, on his own account, a new critical 
 organ. Davies informs us that for sixteen or seven- 
 teen years he and Griffiths, and several more, were 
 partners in another literary speculation an 
 evening paper and used to dine together eight or 
 ten times a year. 
 
 Griffiths christened his own special undertaking 
 the " Monthly Eeview." It was published first at 
 his shop in St. Paul's Churchyard, then in Pater- 
 noster Eow, and thirdly in the Strand. Griffiths 
 exerted himself to secure able contributors ; his 
 friend Dr. Ptose, of Chiswick, was one of the earliest 
 writers in it ; indeed, it is said that Eose's pen 
 produced the very first paper in the first number 
 for May, 1749. Everybody has heard that Gold- 
 smith was specially engaged to give his time and 
 labour to it at a somewhat later date. The diffi- 
 culties to be overcome were sometimes so great, 
 that the projector more than once thought of 
 abandoning the design ; but he persevered, till the 
 property was estimated to be worth 2,000/. a year, 
 rather a Nabobish sum in those days, and even- 
 tually succeeded in establishing the paper on a 
 sound and durable basis. The "Monthly Eeview'* 
 and the " Critical Eeview " were, for a long period, 
 the only periodicals of the kind ; and, judging from 
 what Johnson once told the King in his interview 
 with him, the former was not considered friendly 
 to the Church. The " Critical Eeview," conducted 
 by Smollett, denounced its rival as a paper " con- 
 ducted by a parcel of obscure hirelings under the
 
 INTEODUCTION. XI 
 
 restraint of a bookseller and his wife, who presume 
 to revise, alter, and amend the articles occasionally." 
 
 It would be equally troublesome and superfluous 
 to ascertain when Griffiths first settled at Turnham 
 Green, in the vicinity of his friends Dr. Eose and 
 Mr. Bentley, the great Wedgwood's partner. At 
 what precise date the acquaintance between 
 Griffiths and "Wedgwood commenced, we seem to 
 have nothing to guide us but the indication 
 furnished by "Wedgwood's biographer. It is 
 evident that, a considerable time prior to Bentley's 
 introduction to the editor of the "Monthly," 
 Wedgwood himself had formed that gentleman's 
 acquaintance, the result of which was to place 
 Griffiths very high in Wedgwood's regard. Under 
 date of February 16, 1765, Wedgwood, writing to 
 Bentley, says : " Mr. Griffiths I need not mention, 
 you know he hath one of the warmest places in my 
 heart." It was about the same time, or a little sub- 
 sequently, that Wedgwood and " his Sally," during 
 a visit to London, were hospitably entertained by 
 our friend the litoaire-editeur, and Griffiths re- 
 turned the compliment by going down to Burslem, 
 from which we learn that he hurried back in a 
 chaise, without waiting for the Liverpool coach, to 
 " his beloved Turnham Green." 
 
 Miss Meteyard and others name Griffiths's resi- 
 dence there: it was Linden House. Miss Meteyard 
 intimates a doubt as to the exact locality, perhaps 
 because there is a second large residence, similarly 
 denominated, on the Mall at Chiswick. But with 
 the latter we have nothing to do.
 
 Xll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I have been personally acquainted with Linden 
 House, Turnham Green, for many years, and I took 
 occasion to go over the house shortly before its 
 demolition, which occurred about a twelvemonth 
 ago. It stood between Camden House and Bolton 
 House on the left-hand side of the road, as you go 
 towards Brentford, and it certainly well merited 
 the appellation bestowed on it by Faulkner, who 
 calls it "a capital mansion." As I passed along 
 the broad passage leading from the spacious door- 
 way to the hall, ascending on the way two or three 
 short flights of steps, it awakened an interesting 
 reflection, how often that very ground had been 
 trodden before me by Wedgwood and his partner 
 Bentley, by Goldsmith, and perhaps by Johnson. 
 
 It will convey some idea of the importance and 
 extent of the place, when I mention that before 
 the sale of the site for building purposes, the rent 
 asked for the premises was 400/. and the purchase 
 money 12,000/. The grounds covered four acres 
 and were well timbered. A member of the family 
 recollects his pleasant month's visit, as a lad, to 
 Linden House, and his rapture, as a Londoner, at 
 its glorious garden and wide range of plantations. 
 
 It is no wonder that old Dr. Griffiths was glad 
 to hasten back to such a delightful spot from 
 Burslem. Here, then, it was that he lived for 
 many years with his literary wife, who helped him 
 with the Eeview, and whom Sir Eichard Phillips, 
 recalling the habitual congregation at Chiswick 
 Church as he knew it about 1750, describes as 
 dressed in "her neat and elevated wire-winged cap."
 
 INTKODUCTIOX. Xlll 
 
 In 1764, however, before his introduction to 
 Bentley, Griffiths lost his valuable helpmate. She 
 died in her fifty-second year and was buried at 
 Chiswick, March 25. Her husband allowed three 
 years to elapse before he contracted a second 
 alliance of the same character ; but in 1767, he 
 married Eliza, one of the daughters of Dr. Clark 
 of St. Albans, a Dissenting minister. The second 
 Mrs. Griffiths had two sisters, of whom one had 
 become the wife of Dr. Eose. The third married 
 the Kev. Jabez Hirons. "He (Dr. G.) had married 
 a second time," Miss Meteyard tells ITS, "as we 
 have already seen,in 1767, and now a family of young 
 children were around him." The lady trusts that 
 this might tend to soften the asperity of the libmire- 
 cditeur's temper but possibly there are more w r ays 
 than one of looking at that question. 
 
 This young family, shadowed out by Wedgwood's 
 biographer, consisted exclusively, I believe, of 
 daughters. All that I know even of these is that 
 one, Ann Griffiths, born in 1773, became in 1793 
 the wife of Thomas Wainewright, Esq., of Chiswick, 
 and that Mrs. Wainewright was the last survivor of 
 the second family, when she died prematurely in 
 the October of 1794, 1 in giving birth to a son who 
 
 1 In childbed, at the early age of 21, Mrs. Wainewright, 
 wife of T. W. Esq., of Chiswick. She was the only sur- 
 viving daughter of Dr. Griffiths of Turnham Green, and is 
 greatly regretted on account of her amiable disposition and 
 numerous accomplishments. She is supposed to have 
 understood the writings of Mr. Locke as well as perhaps, 
 any person, of either sex, now living." Gentleman's Mag.,
 
 XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 was christened after his grandfather Thomas 
 Griffiths Wainewright. 
 
 It may be convenient to mention here that the 
 sister of the second Mrs. Griffiths, who was after- 
 wards Mrs. Eose, had a daughter who married 
 Charles Burney, second son of the historian of 
 music. Young Burney was for some time an 
 usher in Eose's academy, and subsequently esta- 
 blished a school of his own at Hammersmith. 
 
 The subject of the present rather discursive 
 notice first saw the light, then, in the month of 
 October, 1794, at Chiswick, and never knew his 
 mother. 1 I think that it may be taken for certain 
 thai! Mr. Wainewright did not long survive his 
 young wife, 2 and at any rate the education of the 
 
 Oct., 1794, p. 965. Wainewright tells us in one of his essays 
 that by his mother's side he inherited a pint or two of 
 Cambrian lymph, which made his temper rather irritable. 
 
 1 Thomas Wainewright, of Chiswick, was one of the 
 twelve children of Mr. Wainewright, of Gray's Inn and 
 Hatton Garden, solicitor. Mr. Wainewright's private resi- 
 dence Avas in Hatton Garden, at a time when people of 
 good position lived there, and it used to be said that every- 
 body kept his carriage except Mr. Wainewright, whose 
 large family prevented him. Mr. Wainewright himself was 
 a Unitarian, but three of his sons joined the Church of 
 England, and took orders. Several of the others, including 
 Eobert and John, were in the law. The latter was the 
 founder of the firm of Wainewright, Smith and Giraud, of 
 No. 7, Furnival's Inn, which is still represented by my 
 informant, Mr. Giraud. 
 
 2 He died, at all events, before June, 1803, in which 
 month and year he is mentioned in a document, presently ' 
 to be quoted, as deceased.
 
 INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 child devolved on his grandfather. But in the 
 autumn of 1 803, Dr. Griffiths himself breathed his 
 last at Linden House, aged eighty-three, having 
 retired from the trading part of his business some 
 thirty years. 1 He left behind him his second wife 
 and his son by the first marriage. The latter suc- 
 ceeded him in the proprietorship and management 
 of the Review, and in the responsibility of bring- 
 ing up and schooling his half-sister's orphan. 
 
 "By his will, dated June 7, 1803, Dr. Griffiths, 
 after reciting the settlement of a certain sum 
 of money on his daughter Ann at her marriage to 
 the late Mr. Wainewright in 1793, and of a further 
 sum to be paid over to her trustees at his death, 
 declared that his grandson, Thomas Griffiths 
 Wainewright, was not entitled to any other 
 portion of his estate or effects, which were to be 
 divided in the statutory proportions between the 
 testator's widow and his only sou, George Edward 
 Griffiths. The will, in fact, contains no other 
 provision, and the deceased expressly states, that 
 he should die intestate, save and except this 
 declaration respecting his grandchild. This some- 
 what peculiar limitation had its source most 
 
 1 28th [September, 1803.] At Turnham Green, in his 
 83rd year, Ralph Griffiths, Esq., LL.D., the original insti- 
 tntor of the " Monthly Keview," which, with unremitting 
 perseverance, he conducted for 54 years, assisted only by 
 his son in the latter period of his life. Dr. Griffiths was a 
 steady advocate of literature, a firm friend, a cordial lover 
 of the enjoyments of domestic happiness, and successful 
 promoter of the charms of social intercourse." Annual 
 Register, 1803, p. 520 ; Gentleman's Magazine, 1803, p. 891.
 
 XVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 probably in some circumstances connected with 
 Mrs. Wainewriglit's match and her father's views 
 about the alliance. 
 
 Had some sinister expression or repugnant trait 
 manifested itself in the father, the late Mr. Waine- 
 wright of Chiswick? Or was the little boy of 
 seven, the heir to the trust-money, not a favourite 
 witli grandpapa ? 
 
 A portrait of Ralph Griffiths appears in the 
 European Magazine for 1804, whence we take 
 leave to extract a short passage : 
 
 " Of either the literary life or domestic habits 
 of Dr. Griffiths little is at present known ; which 
 circumstance we should lament as a misfortune, 
 were we not informed, that it is the intention of 
 his son, who at present conducts the " Monthly 
 Review," to publish his Memoirs. When we 
 observe that, but for this intention, we should 
 lament our want of materials as a misfortune, 
 it arises from our reflection, that in the variety of 
 situations where this venerable critic and valuable 
 member of society has resided, from the Dunciad 
 in St. Paul's Churchyard, 1747, to the Dunciad, 
 near Catherine Street, 1772, where we perfectly 
 remember his shop to be a favourite lounge of 
 the late Dr. Goldsmith, he must have become 
 acquainted with more characters, anecdotes, and 
 circumstances, many of which we hope he has 
 preserved, than perhaps any other critic from 
 Dionysius of Halicarnassus . . ." 
 
 But the expectation was illusory; either the 
 younger Griffiths discovered no Memoirs, or did
 
 INTRODUCTION. XV11 
 
 not care to trouble himself about the matter. 
 Moreover, in his hands, the Review ceased to be 
 what it was. Perhaps Linden House was too 
 attractive, and its master was fonder of gardening 
 than quill-driving. He became the sole owner of 
 the place, if he had not been so before indeed, by 
 the death of his step-mother, which occurred on 
 the 24th August, 1812. 
 
 This event made George Edward Griffiths the 
 only living representative of the family, except 
 that nephew born in 1794. 1 
 
 The actual proprietor of Linden House and its 
 beautiful grounds was, in the first place, not the 
 man of mark his father, with all his failings, had 
 been acknowledged by the most competent judges 
 tobe, and, again, most of the old set were no 
 more. Linden House, therefore, was no doubt 
 little beyond a splendid retirement at the period 
 to which we have come. 
 
 If the foregoing narrative should seem unduly 
 diffuse, my apology is that, under the peculiar 
 ircumstances, I was anxious to illustrate, so far 
 and fully as I could, the private and domestic 
 antecedents of the individual, whose history will 
 now principally occupy our attention. 
 
 Let me recapitulate a little. Thomas Griffiths 
 
 1 I cannot ascertain who, or in what degree of kinship, 
 to the bookseller were the Thomas and Ann Griffiths 
 (husband and wife) who lost a son John in 1787, aged 23, 
 and a daughter Mary in 1791, aged 17, both at Chiswick. 
 They were almost obviously of the same family, for Kalph 
 Griffiths was interred in the same vault or grave with 
 them at Chiswick. See Faulkner's Account of Brentford, 
 c., 1845, p. 329. 
 
 b
 
 XV111 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Wainewright had been left at a very tender age 
 without father or mother, the latter having died in 
 her confinement, and his education and nurture 
 devolving on his uncle, who succeeded to Linden 
 House and the property connected with it in 
 18Q3, when Wainewright was a boy of seven. 
 We may feel sure that much of the orphan's 
 school-days was divided between Charles Burney's 
 Academy at Hammersmith or Greenwich and the 
 house and garden at Turnham Green. There is 
 no violence in the conjecture, that the youth's 
 literary and antiquarian tastes were acquired and 
 fostered during his acquaintance with Charles 
 Burney, and indeed, in speaking of his school- 
 ing under that distinguished man, Wainewright 
 expressly alludes to his accomplishments as* a 
 philosopher and an archaeologist. From the distant 
 relationship there was between them (Miss Burney 
 was the niece, as I have shown, of the second 
 Mrs. Griffiths), the master was not unlikely to 
 take a more than usual interest in his pupil. 
 That pupil evinced, among other points, a remark- 
 able proficiency as a draughtsman. The drawing- 
 book, which he used at school, is still extant, and 
 displays great talent and natural feeling. 
 
 Wainewright further apprises us, in a document 
 which he had occasion to draw up later on in life, 
 that he was brought up in easy and comfortable 
 circumstances, and that "a modest competence" 
 enabled him to pursue his tastes for literature and 
 other equally agreeable, elegant, and congenial 
 studies. This " modest competence " descended to 
 him from his own parents.
 
 INTRODUCTION. XIX 
 
 Emerging in due course into manhood, lie found 
 himself by degrees surrounded by a circle not only 
 of literary, but of artistic, friends and patrons. 
 We have it on his own authority, that " his pen and 
 brush introduced him to the notice and friendship 
 of men, whose fame is European." Among these, 
 I understand, were Euseli (whom he terms some- 
 where the god of his idolatry), Stothard,Westall, Sir 
 Thomas Lawrence, and Flaxman ; and, besides, he 
 gained in time a footing among the literati and the 
 publishers. 
 
 But at a certain point of time, subsequently to 
 school-days, yet not to be fixed with precision, our 
 author took a singular fancy into his head. All 
 his associations had been literary and artistic, as 
 we are aware ; but from a lad's whim, little home 
 troubles, or from some unknown motive, Waine- 
 wright, still quite a youth, went into the army. 
 " It was whispered," says Talfourd, " that he had 
 been an officer in the Dragoons." Whispered ! 
 Why, the man himself says so much in so many 
 words. He describes himself in print, under the 
 year 1823, as having been an orderly officer in a 
 regiment of the Guards perhaps the Dragoons, 
 and characterizes his carriage in one place, as some- 
 thing between "the suavity of the accomplished 
 dilettante and the martial grace of the dragoon." 
 
 But we will have Ms story as he gives it : 
 
 " As a boy," he says in January, 1823, "I was 
 
 placed frequently in literary society a giddy, 
 
 flighty disposition prevented me from receiving 
 
 thence any advantage. The little attention I gave 
 
 12
 
 XX INTRODUCTION 
 
 to anything was directed to painting, or rather to an 
 admiration of it ; but, ever to be led away by new 
 and flashy gauds, I postponed the pencil to the 
 sword; and the noisy audacity of military con- 
 versation, united to the frequent fumes of whisky- 
 punch (ten tumblers every evening without acid), 
 obscured my recollections of Michael Angelo as in 
 a dim fog. After a while several, apparently 
 trifling, chances determined me against this mode 
 of killing time. I was idle on the town my blessed 
 Art touched her renegade ; by her pure and high 
 influences the noisome mists were purged : my 
 feelings, parched, hot and tarnished, were renovated 
 with cool, fresh bloom. . . ." 
 
 The Dragoon peeps out again, in a kind of ly- 
 ihe-ioay manner, where he refers in the course of 
 a fine-art criticism to the want of precision ob- 
 served by that arm of the Service in keeping the 
 foot in the stirrup ; and Wainewright makes else- 
 where a further disclosure relative to this portion 
 of hishistory and his life, where lie mentions 
 parenthetically in an essay that he was at ono 
 time a cornet in a yeomanry regiment. Tho 
 cornetcy was probably the later occupation, but of 
 that I cannot be sure. 
 
 He goes onto tell us how the writings of Words- 
 worth contributed to make a new man of him 
 " I wept over them," says he, " tears of happiness 
 and gratitude," and they moved him to wage war 
 on all the more sordid instincts of humanity. But 
 severe illness, accompanied by hypochondria, now 
 supervened ; he was brought safely through it by
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXI 
 
 a skilful physician and a young affectionate nurse, 
 but it left him weak and incapable of active exer- 
 tion. He was recommended "varied amusement" 
 as a restorative ; and it was just at this juncture 
 that, the London Magazine having begun, Mr. Scott 
 the editor, knowing Wainewright's love of art, 
 exhorted him to commit some of his thoughts to 
 paper. His first contribution, he frankly owns, 
 demanded a good deal of editorial revision; but 
 the ex-Guardsman had reason, on the whole, to be 
 satisfied with his success in an entirely novel field. 
 Waine wright found Scott very friendly and straight- 
 forward; when he thought that a subject was 
 exhausted he let him know his opinion. It also 
 appears that both Lamb and Hazlitt had spoken 
 favourably of him. 
 
 Wainewright rises first to our view distinctly 
 and individually as a contributor (according to 
 his own account), to a small ephemeral pub- 
 lication, by Messrs. Oilier, called " The Literary 
 Pocket Book," in the year 1819, when he was five 
 or six and twenty. 1 Mr. Buxton Forman has very 
 kindly examined a set of the work for me, how- 
 ever, without detecting any vestige of Wainewright's 
 hand from beginning to end. lackwood"s Magazine 
 
 1 Of Wainewright's poetical gifts we appear to have no 
 evidence, beyond the verses at p. 7 infra ; yet, in one 
 passage of his Essays he shadows forth the advent of a 
 poet, himself to ivit, worthy of the "gentle girl with the 
 amaranthine* hair," who should sing "how of old a 
 Grecian maid died for the love of Apollo, after seeing his 
 statue by Phidias ! " This promissory effusion no chroni- 
 cled eye has beheld. 
 
 * PoeticS.
 
 XX11 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 had entered on its career in 1818, and Wainewright 
 apprises us, in the autobiographical piece which I 
 have already cited, that he had a hand there, as 
 well as in the Foreign Quarterly Review when it 
 started in 1828. I have not traced him in either 
 place. But the literary medium, with which his 
 name is more particularly identified, was the 
 London Magazine, of which the first number 
 appeared in January, 1820. He has nothing there 
 under his own name, or under either of those which 
 he subsequently assumed. I recognize, however, his 
 peculiar touches and humour in the " Modest Offer 
 of Service from Egomet Bonmot, Esquire," which 
 is inserted in the January issue, and have ventured 
 on appropriating that, as well as a second Bonmot 
 paper in the June number, to him. 
 
 I have traced to Wainewright's possession more 
 than even two caps of invisibility ; for he was 
 now Mr. Bonmot ; anon he was Mr. Weathercock ; 
 and lo! again he was Herr Vinkbooms ! And to 
 impart a certain raciness to the jest, and to augment 
 the mystification, Bonmot invokes his dear friend 
 Janus, and Janus inquires of the Editor who that 
 Mr. Stinking Brooms is ? Yet, all the time, the veil 
 was as transparent as gauze. It was a sort of unity 
 in trinity an absolute case of a literary Cer- 
 berus. The editor of the magazine himself, in 
 a note to one of the Weathercock papers, throws out 
 a significant innuendo as to our author's triplicity, 
 and it is probably a singular instance of a writer 
 contributing to the same organ under three distinct 
 soubriquets. In the February issue we come across
 
 INTRODUCTION. xxiii 
 
 " Sentimentalities on the Fine Arts, by Janus Wea- 
 thercock, Esq. No. 1. (To lie, continued when he is 
 in the humour") Weathercock, in a word, was 
 Wainewright. 
 
 Wainewright alias Weathercock is described by 
 one of his contemporaries as at this time " a young 
 man on the bright side of thirty, with a sort of un- 
 dress military air, and the conversation of a smart, 
 lively, clever, heartless, voluptuous coxcomb." He 
 is manifestly favouring us with a catalogue of his 
 own fashionable accessories, as he appeared about 
 1820, when, in one of the London Magazines, he 
 enumerates " the diamond-rings on our fingers, the 
 antique cameos in our breast-pins, our cambric 
 pocket-handkerchief breathing forth attargui, our 
 pale lemon-coloured kid gloves." But from other 
 sources equally reliable I collect that he was of a 
 tall figure, which acquired insensibly a slight habit 
 of stooping ; his complexion and hair were dark, 
 the latter rather long over the ears and generally 
 dressed and curled across the temples with studied 
 care and parted down the middle x ; he wore mous- 
 taches ; his eyes deeply set in their sockets were 
 penetrating or playful at the owner's pleasure, just 
 as his voice, described in one place as an elegant 
 lisp, was capable under provocation or in critical 
 emergencies, of ascending to a loftier and more 
 
 1 He speaks of himself, in fact, in 1822, as "a man 
 about thirty ; the hair, black and parted on the forehead, 
 was long, thick, and ciirled " ; and he adds a glimpse of 
 " one large white hand decorated with regal rings (his 
 fondness for jewelry is noticed by Talfourd)."
 
 XXIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 sonorous key. Who can doubt it ? Did Waine- 
 wright always lisp, or Hazlitt always slouch ? 
 Wainewright's head was large and altogether cast 
 in a massive mould, without any tendency to taper 
 towards the chin. I have heard his expression 
 depicted as " at once reflective and fascinating, and 
 his eyes as stealthy in their glances ; " but I have 
 also met witli accounts which appeared to me to 
 demonstrate the man's thorough power and not 
 unfrequent custom of looking people in the face. 
 Nay, 1 even believe that much nonsense has been 
 written about furtive looks and basilisk eyes. 
 
 Waine wright was certainly an extraordinary man,, 
 without being a man of first-rate genius or of very 
 high powers. That his abilities were very con- 
 siderably above the average I conceive to be pretty 
 conclusively shown by his retention of his place 
 as an occasional writer on the London, whose pro- 
 prietors were anxious to secure at the best price 
 all the available talent of the day. By the side of 
 Lamb, I)e Quincey, Procter, Hazlitt, and Carlyle,. 
 Janus Weathercock Esquire kept his ground, and 
 indeed the literary criticisms of Wainewright are 
 unquestionably the offspring of an acute and culti- 
 vated mind. His views respecting Stothard are 
 just and permanent. But he occasionally offends, 
 us by his Dibdinian way of puffing current ware, 
 and recommending his reader to send to some shop 
 to secure a copy of something or other. This pro- 
 pensity is carried to an odd pitch where, in one of 
 the Vinkbooms' Papers, he speaks of having one of 
 Michael Angelo's clay sketches, that for his Aurora
 
 INTRODUCTION. 3XV 
 
 on the Tomb of Lorenzo di Medici, "of which 
 you," he observes, referring to a friend, " have the 
 large dot print by Mile. Duclos, NINE AND SIX- 
 PENCE." This sort of style may combine the attrac- 
 tions of a Catalogue raisonnee aud a PRICE CURRENT, 
 but from a literary standpoint it is rather alloyed 
 metal. 
 
 An acquaintance, speaking of him at a some- 
 what later period of life, says : " I listened to 
 Ms talk at dinner and observed how readily other 
 men responded to it, and with a graceful instinct 
 he adapted his subjects to the knowledge and 
 habits of those he talked with. As in talking with 
 me, he had easily started the subject I might be 
 supposed to understand best, and to be the most 
 interested in, so in talking with others, he guided 
 himself by the same rule. The company was of a 
 varied character, but he was not at fault that I 
 could discover, with any member of it. He knew 
 just as much of each man's pursuit as made him 
 agreeable to that man in reference to it, and just 
 as little as made it natural to him to seek modestly 
 for information when the theme was broached." 
 
 To return. Wainewright was certainly true 
 to his original condition as regarded the manner 
 and extent of his contributions to the London. 
 The editor heard from him very seldom. His pen 
 was tolerably busy in the service of the Magazine 
 during 1820, however, and 1821. But there are 
 evident indications that his time was also taken up 
 by his artistic studies and by Ms taste for book 
 collecting and other allied pursuits, as well as a 
 little disposition to dabble in horseflesh.
 
 XXVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I take it to be clear enough, that it is to about 
 this date, that we have to refer those elaborate 
 preparations on the part of Wainewright for two 
 distinct works illustrative of the various schools of 
 painting, which were to form, when published, five 
 folio volumes, and likewise the composition of 
 what he calls " An Art Novel," in three volumes, 
 At the same time, no doubt, he was engaged in 
 drawing up, or assisting to draw up, the Catalogue 
 of the Exhibition at Somerset House, which we 
 find figuring in his own list of his literary labours. 
 This association with Art necessarily brought him 
 into more or less intimate contact with the studios 
 and the galleries ; but during the winter months 
 he tells us that he was in the habit of frequenting 
 the theatres and other entertainments (we hear the 
 Cider Cellar and the Coal Hole named par cxemple, 
 no doubt for the joke of the thing, once in a way) ; 
 and the book-shops also saw him much, and the 
 printsellers, in those short days when the country 
 is not so alluring as in the prime of the leaf. 
 
 Let me annex from one of his own papers a 
 charmingly characteristic bit, where he is bidding 
 .adieu to a literary acquaintance : " Good morning, 
 I -am almost too late ; engaged to meet some prime 
 coves of theFancy at twelve; then to the Fives Court; 
 must be at the Royal Institution by half past two ; 
 take my twentieth peep at Haydon's Picture in 
 my way back : letters to Belzoni till five ; dinner 
 chez moi with the little philosopher and the doctor 
 at six ; don our azure hose for the Lady Cerulea 
 Lazuli's Conversazione at half-past nine ; opera,
 
 IXTKODUCTION. XXVli 
 
 applaud Milanie, and sup with the Corinthians 
 in St. James's Square at two Sunday morning: 
 good bye, hope to see you at church to-morrow, 
 if up in time, or meet ye at Sir Joseph's at night ; 
 good-bye." 
 
 On the whole, he must have had his hands 
 pretty full during these years without counting 
 the somewhat fitful essays in the London. In 
 fact, he did nothing there, so far as we can see, 
 between September, 1820, and September, 1821. 
 He was, let us take it for granted, better engaged ; 
 what with his love of Art, his fondness for horses, 
 his "modest competence," and a rich uncle at 
 Linden House, Turnham Green, to visit when he 
 chose. Besides, he had formed around him, thanks 
 to his literary and artistic predilections and his 
 apparently easy position, a pleasant little circle of 
 friends, not only authors and painters, but private 
 acquaintances, such as the Abercrombys. 
 
 It was a small family at Mortlake in rather 
 humble circumstances. There was a widow with 
 one daughter and a son by her first husband, Mr. 
 Ward, and two daughters, Helen Frances Phoebe 
 and Madeleine, by her second, Lieutenant Aber- 
 cromby, of the Ordnance. 1 Who and what Mr. 
 Ward was I have failed to ascertain. Lieutenant 
 Abercromby died in 1812 ; and as he did not leave 
 -a shilling behind him, an application was made to 
 the Board of Ordnance, and granted, for a small 
 allowance to his two children Wl. a year a piece. 
 
 1 Helen was born 12th March, 1809, and Madeleine 
 during her parents' residence in Ireland, in 1810.
 
 XXV111 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 After her second spouse's decease Mrs. Aber- 
 cromby took in lodgers (perchance amongst 
 them Mr. Wainewright) ; and this, with a small 
 property at Mortlake worth about 1007. a year 
 iderived from her first husband, I conclude, formed 
 her entire income. No wonder, then, if the poor 
 old lady ran in debt with her agent, Mr. James 
 Stewart, an auctioneer in the neighbourhood. 
 
 Miss Frances "Ward, a young lady of the most 
 prepossessing appearance, took the heart of Waine- 
 wright completely captive ; they were married. 
 The registers of Mortlake, where the Abercrombys 
 lived, and where they are still remembered, contain 
 no entry of the event ; but I suppose that the 
 union took place somewhere between 1820 and 
 1824. At the latter date Wainewright would have 
 been exactly thirty. Talfourd intimates that a sum 
 of 5,2007. was settled on Wainewright and his wife 
 at their marriage; but that very learned judge 
 must refer to Wainewright's own " modest compe- 
 tence," to borrow his own expression, " derived," 
 (I still quote Wainewright's words), "from his 
 parents." As the lady's family is said to have 
 been very poor, and her husband was left an orphan 
 tit an early age, it is scarcely to be believed that 
 the 5,0007. and odd Four per Cent, stock was settled 
 at the time of marriage in the manner suggested. 
 It is evident to me, on the contrary, that the 
 money or property was simply the estate held in 
 trust for Wainewright's benefit by one of his 
 paternal uncles, Robert Wainewright the solicitor, 
 and three other persons.
 
 HELEN FRANCES PHCEBE ABERCROMBY. 
 
 FROM AN ORIGINAL DRAWING 
 BY T.G.WAI NEWRIGHT.
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXIX 
 
 I trace the young people to a place [Hampton 
 Court ?] thirteen or fourteen miles from Hyde 
 Park Corner, in the early days of their married 
 life. Perhaps they moved about, occasionally 
 staying at Linden House with Uncle Griffiths. 
 There is a certain indication that one or two of 
 the earlier articles in the London Magazine were 
 written in the neighbourhood of Box Hill. Mrs. 
 Abercromby could not afford to see much of them. 
 Her resources were, I apprehend, slenderer than 
 ever, and her two girls had only the special an- 
 nuity from the office of 10 a year each until they 
 became of age. But Wainewright's " modest com- 
 petence," assisted by the settlement, kept them 
 above want, and his prospects from his uncle were 
 excellent. There was no anxiety for the future ; 
 and Mr. Griffiths was already far advanced in 
 years. 
 
 Meanwhile, Wainewright occupied his time very 
 creditably and congenially with his pen and 
 pencil. He still sent papers at intervals to the 
 London in the course of 1822, and even down to 
 January, 1823, when he printed his valedictory 
 address, where he enlarges much on his own his- 
 tory, and pronounces an eulogium on his colleagues. 
 He took sketches and likenesses of his friends. 
 He drew a charming little portrait of Helen Aber- 
 cromby, who was now a fair and graceful girl of 
 twelve or fourteen ; it is a head only, in coloured 
 chalk, executed with great care as regards the 
 features and contour of the face, with the hair in 
 <jurls. The portion of the neck shown might per-
 
 XXX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 liaps have been improved by a little more shading. 
 He also took Madeleine only a head in crayon 
 it must have been a rather later piece of work, and, 
 I am informed by those who should know best, 
 that it is a less truthful resemblance. But he also 
 devoted a good deal of time and attention to the 
 treatment of subjects intended for his own private 
 portfolio exquisite delineations of the female 
 form, and designs which, regarded from an unpro- 
 fessional point of view, might have been charac- 
 terized as decidedly erotic. The only specimen of 
 this class which has fallen in my way is a study 
 from the well-known leg-comparing episode related 
 in Grammont's Memoirs, in which one of the Court 
 beauties, Miss Price, is made to figure. 
 
 Charles Lamb's testimony surely favours the 
 assumption that Wainewright had little or nothing 
 to do with the London Magazine after 1823. In 
 a letter to Bernard Barton of that year, he says : 
 " The ' London,' I fear, falls off. I linger among 
 the creaking rafters, like the last rat ; it will topple 
 down, if they don't get some buttresses. They 
 have pulled down three : Hazlitt, Procter, and 
 their best stay, kind, light-hearted Wainewright, 
 their Janus . . . ;" and, again, to the same 
 correspondent he remarks about the same time : 
 " I miss Janus, and 0, how it [the Magazine] misses 
 Hazlitt!" 
 
 Once more, the veiled author of " The Memoir 
 of a Hypochondriac," in the London for October, 
 1822, takes occasion to apologise for his intrusion 
 on Wainewright's familiar province : " And so
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXXI 
 
 farewell to painting. If I have trespassed on the 
 preserve of Mr. Weathercock (by the bye, why 
 does not Mr. Weathercock go on with his pleasant 
 lectures on prints and painters ? Why does he r 
 like a coy and beautiful virgin, shun the eye of his 
 lovers, the ' admiring public ? ' Is there not much 
 still to speak of fields that remain to be won ? 
 Let him write again and again) if I have tres- 
 passed on Mr. Weathercock's preserve, I trust that 
 gay and gentle critic will excuse it." 
 
 But the Weathercock was declared to be " stead- 
 fast for lack of oil," and the final paper of Janus 
 in the number for January, 1823, produced this 
 editorial note significant of his retirement from 
 periodical writing : " The winter must be very 
 hard as it was expected to be for honest Master 
 Janus Weathercock has, in the present number,, 
 ' composed his decent head and breathed his last/ 
 But we are acquainted with his tricks, and well 
 know how subject he is to wilful trances and 
 violent wakings. The newspapers told us the other 
 day of a person who could counterfeit death to- 
 such a nicety, as to deceive even an undertaker ; 
 now our readers must not be surprised to find 
 Janus get up, after his laying out, and go about 
 his ordinary concerns. Depend upon it, readers, 
 he resembles the Spectator's sleeper at the ' Cock 
 and Bottle,' and is no more dead than we are ! " 
 
 Nor does the scrap in the number for February, 
 1826, under the familiar signature, quite prove the 
 contrary, since there is a look about it, as if it had 
 reached the Magazine at second hand some waif
 
 XXX11 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 left in the editor's basket or transmitted through a 
 friend. 
 
 All the regular contributors to the London were 
 professional men of letters, not all of them pre- 
 cisely dependent on their exertions in this way for 
 their subsistence, but men who might be set down 
 as authors. Wainewright alone seems to have 
 stood outside this category. True, he wrote much 
 a great deal more, almost beyond question, than 
 we shall ever recover ; but it was as an amateur. 
 The distinction may appear trivial, even unjust ; 
 but he is realised to me as an individual who, 
 having had no regular literary training, takes up 
 his pen for a time, as ha might his billiard cue, 
 dashes off an article or so, when or while lie is in 
 the humour, or a few vers de sotitfttf, and then 
 throws up the hobby of the hour to choose a new 
 one. 
 
 I believe, then, I shall be substantially correct in 
 asserting, that Wainewright seceded from literary 
 engagements, though by no means yet from literary 
 circles, in 1823. If we try to form an estimate 
 of the ostensible resources of Mr. and Mrs. Waine- 
 wright about this period, we shall find ourselves, 
 1 fear, beginning and ending with Mr. Waine- 
 wright's before-quoted "modest competence "- 
 some 5,000 in the New Four per Cents. Times 
 were dearer than when Dr. Johnson's friend Lang- 
 ton kept state in the country, and paid his way, on 
 200 a year ; but the Wainewrights had no family 
 yet ; and with ordinary thrift they might manage 
 well enough, till the ship came home. Unluckily,
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXX111 
 
 his tastes were terribly expensive, and she, on her 
 part, was a fine dashing creature. 
 
 One catches a glimpse of their gay and brilliant 
 doings, prior to their removal to Turnham Green, 
 in a description which is given of a particularly ele- 
 gant petit diner (our host delighted in gallicisms) 
 at which Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Griffiths Waine- 
 wright requested to have the pleasure of the com- 
 pany of Sir Wentworth Dilke, Bart., Dr. Maginn, 
 Mr. John Forster, Mr. Serjeant Talfourd, Mr. John 
 Clare (the poet), Mr. Macready, and others, at 
 their residence in Great Marlborough Street. It 
 was a suite of luxuriously furnished apartments, 
 which the Wainewrights had engaged. Surely, 
 unless Janus had lighted on some new source of 
 revenue, more lucrative than the Magazines, this 
 style of living was somewhat improvident. 200 
 a year would not bear this strain long. 
 
 However, very fortunately for them (as it 
 appeared), seeing perhaps that his residence was 
 commodious even beyond the most ambitious 
 requirements of a bachelor, Uncle Griffiths pro- 
 posed at this conjuncture to give his nephew and 
 niece a home at Linden House. This must have 
 been about 1828. Since 1823 Wainewright had done 
 very little in the literary way. Indeed, his earn- 
 ings from this kind of source were undoubtedly, 
 from first to last, very insignificant ; nor can they 
 be said to have extended over more than three or 
 four years, if we include the at present unidentified 
 pieces in the Literary Pocket Bool; for 1819 and 
 1820. He therefore placed no dependence on the 
 c
 
 XXXIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 publishers, and merely hit off a paper in his own 
 manner now and again, when he happened to be 
 in the vein. 
 
 The annexed list of his performances is formed, 
 to a considerable extent, from his own published 
 memoranda. The first, second and third items, 
 however, are not known to survive in any shape. 
 It is said of Coleridge, that he accumulated a 
 singular catalogue of titles of works, which he too 
 sanguinely proposed to carry out ; it is within the 
 limits of possibility that the same thing happened 
 to his distinguished contemporary, and that the 
 folio works, which I have enumerated on his 
 authority, were merely paullo-post-futuro adum- 
 brations, like the Thoughts of Mr. Egomet Bonmot 
 and are destined to remain to all succeeding 
 ages more tantalizing than the extracts of Arch- 
 bishop Photius. The fourth, so far as I have been 
 fortunate enough to identify them, constitute the 
 body of the present volume. The last article 
 consisted, I conjecture, of mere compilations. 
 
 1. A Philosophical Theory of Design, as con- 
 cerned with the Loftier Emotions, showing its deep 
 action on Society, drawn from the Phidean, Greek, 
 and early Florentine Schools (the result of seven- 
 teen years' study). Illustrated with numerous 
 plates, executed with conscientious accuracy. In 
 one volume, atlas folio. 
 
 2. An JEsthetic and Psychological Treatise on 
 the Beautiful; or, the Analogies of Imagination 
 and Fancy, as exerted in Poesy, whether Verse, 
 Painting, Sculpture, Music, or Architecture; to
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXXV 
 
 form four volumes folio, with a profusion of en.;- 
 gravings by the best artists of Paris, Munich, 
 Berlin, Dresden, and Wien. 
 
 3. An Art Novel, in three volumes. 
 
 4. Fantasies, Critical Sketches, &c., from Black- 
 wood's Magazine, the Foreign (Quarterly) Eeview, 
 and the London Magazine. 
 
 5. Contributions to the Literary Pocket Book, 
 1819-20-21. 1 
 
 6. Catalogues of the Somerset House Exhibi- 
 tions. 
 
 Hazlitt, in his paper called " The Dandy School," 
 printed in the Examiner, 1828, alludes to the 
 change which had then taken place in the tone and 
 aim of literature. " Now," he says, " all that we 
 learn from it is the servility, egotism, and upstart 
 pretensions of the writers. Instead of transporting 
 you to fairyland, or into the middle ages, you take a 
 turn down Bond Street, or go through the mazes of 
 the dance at Almack's. . . . You dip into an, 
 essay or a novel, and may fancy yourself reading a 
 collection of quack or fashionable advertisements. 
 Macassar oil, Eau de Cologne, Hock and Seltzer 
 Water, Attar of Eoses, Pomade Divine, glance 
 through the page in inextricable confusion, and 
 make your head giddy. In these elegant volumes 
 (Disraeli's ' Vivian Grey,' ) a fine gentleman sees 
 
 1 A notice of this publication will be found in Mr. Ire- 
 land's monograph on the writings of Hazlitt and Hunt, 
 1868, pp. 127-8, and in the London Magazine for January, 
 1821. 
 
 c2
 
 XXXVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the cut of his coat, the tie of his cravat, and the 
 polish of his boots, as in his looking-glass." 
 
 The article from which I have been quoting was 
 more immediately intended as a skit on " Vivian 
 Grey," but the criticism applies almost equally to 
 the other writers of the Dandy and Silver Fork 
 Schools Wainewright included. It is curious how 
 fashions in writing set in and die out. Among the 
 disciples of these two sects, we find Plumer Ward, 
 Lord Normanby, Disraeli the younger, and Waine- 
 wright ; but Bulwer, too, was an offshoot from them, 
 and his earlier work is powerfully tainted with the 
 vices of his teachers. He alone had the strength to 
 shake off the meretricious influence, yet he retained 
 a certain trace of the old florid euphemism (so 
 cleverly parodied by Thackeray) to the last. 
 
 Yet, so late as 1831, when Moxon, of Dover- 
 street, started the Englishman's Magazine, Lamb 
 is found tendering him counsel as to what sort of 
 thing he ought to make of it, and what sort of men 
 it was his interest to secure. " Can you not/' he 
 demands, "get hold of Procter? His chambers 
 are in Lincoln's Inn at Montagu's, or of Janus 
 Weathercock ? both of their prose is capital. 
 Don't encourage poetry " And, as I have already 
 pointed out, Hazlitt himself possibly won, like the 
 author of "Elia," by the charm of dissimilitude or 
 contrast, looked with an indulgent eye on the 
 Weathercock papers in the London. 
 
 But Wainewright, let me remember, no longer 
 the man of letters, has to be introduced in another 
 character the man of business and of the world.
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXXvii 
 
 The curtain which fell, so to speak, on my author's 
 no doubt regretful adieu to an arena, in which he 
 had been admitted by many good judges to shine 
 with no mean lustre, will rise on scenes of a dif- 
 ferent and busier kind. 
 
 Lamb, in his well-known epistle to Manning, 
 where he furnishes his distant correspondent with 
 a fictitious account of the misadventures which 
 had befallen their common friends, since Manning's 
 settlement in China, need not be quoted. 
 
 Again, in a communication to his Quaker crony 
 Bernard Barton, many years later (1824), Lamb 
 moralises with jocose gravity on the case of 
 Henry Fauntleroy, then fresh in the public mind. 
 
 . . . The fate of the unfortunate Fauntleroy 
 makes me, whether I will or no, to cast reflecting 
 eyes around me, on such of my friends, as, by a 
 parity of situation, are exposed to a similarity of 
 temptation. . . . You think it impossible that 
 you could commit so heinous an offence ; but so 
 thought Fauntleroy once. ... I tremble, I 
 am sure, at myself, when I think that so many poor 
 victims of the law, at one time of their life, made 
 as sure of never being hanged, as I, in my own pre- 
 sumption, am ready, too ready, to do myself. What 
 are we better than they ? . . . I am shocked 
 sometimes at the shape of my own fingers, not 
 for their resemblance to the ape tribe (which is 
 something), but for the exquisite adaptation of 
 them to the purposes of picking, fingering, &c." 
 
 What bearing has all this digression, it may be 
 asked, on the immediate subject ? Well, I stated
 
 XXXVlii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 that in or about 1828 Uncle Griffiths received his 
 young relatives into his house at Turnham Green ; 
 and, of course, the change from lodgings even in 
 Great Marlborough Street, or such a residence 
 as Waiuewright's limited income would allow, 
 was highly agreeable. What appeared a cruel 
 blow to the young people's happiness occurred about 
 a twelvemonth after their instalment in these hand- 
 some quarters. George Edward Griffiths, Esquire, 
 of Linden House, died in 1829, after a short illness, 
 leaving his nephew and niece that very eligible 
 mansion and other property and effects. Mr. 
 Griffiths was an old man ; but the fatal occurrence 
 was wholly unexpected. 
 
 There was one consideration which mitigated 
 the sorrow of the Wainewrights; it was the 
 prospect, after many years of union, that dear 
 Frances would at last have it in her power to offer 
 her husband a substantial pledge of her affection. 
 Of course a place like Linden House, comfortably 
 furnished, with its lovely garden and luxurious 
 appurtenances, to say nothing of the good old 
 gentleman's money, helped to create a diversion 
 from melancholy thoughts; but the arrival of a 
 boy, christened Griffiths after his lamented great- 
 uncle, was a crowning joy and compensation. 
 
 I know what Linden House was, and I am 
 rather uncertain to what extent the death of Uncle 
 Griffiths benefited the Wainewrights pecuniarily ; 
 but from the tenor of his grandfather's will it is 
 open to speculation whether the moiety left to 
 the second wife remained in the family, or
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXXIX 
 
 passed to her own friends at her death in 1812 ; 
 and again, it is not to be supposed that the income 
 of the owner of Linden House was what it had 
 been in the palmy days of the Monthly Review. 
 Still the mere house, with its contents and its 
 grounds, was not a despicable possession, and there 
 must have been a tolerably handsome windfall 
 besides. On the other hand, it is beyond dispute 
 that, wherever he had contracted such habits and 
 notions, Wainewright's theory of expenditure was 
 in perfect keeping with the beautiful place he had 
 lately inherited ; Linden House, at the time of 
 which I am writing (1829-30), in the hands of 
 a prudent and thrifty man, standing on his own 
 freehold, asked certainly 1000 a year to keep it 
 up at all appropriately ; and Mr. Weathercock, so 
 far from being prudent or thrifty, loved carriages, 
 majolica, rare prints, wines of unusual vintages, 
 servants in livery, and other sweet impoverish- 
 ments, Whatever money Mr. Weathercock had 
 was apt therefore to go unconscionably fast, and 
 the worst was that there was now an end to all 
 expectations from relatives. 
 
 Nor was this all. The Abercrombys at Mort- 
 lake, since Miss Ward's marriage, had been getting 
 poorer and poorer. Mrs. Abercromby did not find 
 her scheme for raising an income out of lodgers 
 answer, perhaps. The two girls were growing into 
 women. Helen would be of age in 1830, and her 
 sister Madeleine was only a year her junior. 
 
 It was clearly unfortunate; but the Waine- 
 wrights, notwithstanding the sort of white elephant
 
 Xl INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Linden House threatened to prove to them, and the 
 magnitude of their present expenses, felt obliged 
 to arrange with mamma and sisters, that the poor 
 little place at Mortlake should be given up, and 
 Mrs. Abereromby and the girls should all come to 
 join the happy circle at Turnham Green. 
 
 But her considerate friends did not long enjoy 
 the satisfaction of Mrs. Abercromby's society ; for 
 the old lady died (August 1830) a few months 
 only after her removal to that splendid new home 
 died suddenly after a good deal of vomiting, in 
 a fit of convulsions. The Wainewrights were 
 thus left somewhere in 1830 with the baby and 
 the two young Abereromby girls. These made up 
 the family at Linden House between forty-nine 
 and fifty years since. 
 
 Wainewright, like Prospero, had "plucked his 
 magic garment" from him. As Lamb said of his 
 Essays, "the humour of the thing had gone," or 
 rather Janus Weathercock was in a sad taking, 
 and was no longer "in the humour." Linden 
 House the very name itself was from a century's 
 associations, a tower of strength. The trades- 
 people of Turnham Green would as soon have 
 expected to hear of the mansion in the Grove 
 collapsing, as of the mansion in Threadneedle 
 Street playing such a trick. Had not the family 
 of Griffiths and Griffiths- Wainewright held their 
 own there from time immemorial ? The fathers of 
 the butchers, bakers, and grocers of .1830 might 
 have seen the carriages of the Quality drive up to 
 the door, when the old Doctor, who had known,
 
 INTRODUCTION. xli 
 
 Wedgwood and Goldsmith, Johnson and Fanny 
 Burney, lived under that roof. It was only in 
 1812 that his second lady was carried thence to 
 Chiswick churchyard. 
 
 But the new occupiers of Linden House and those 
 old people belonged to rather different schools. 
 The Wainewrights did not seem disposed to remain 
 satisfied with the exercise of ordinary friendship 
 and hospitality. All their arrangements, to say 
 the truth, and all their tastes were, to say the truth, 
 alarmingly profuse. The furniture, the decorations, 
 the ornamental objects, the horses and carriages, 
 the toilets, and the table, were on a scale, which 
 would have greatly astonished both the old Doctor 
 and his son. Unless a gold-mine had been sprung 
 somewhere, the family at Linden House appeared 
 to be of the popular persuasion, that the best kind 
 of life was a short life and a merry one. 
 
 Those who were behind the scenes were too 
 well aware that the money was running low, and 
 that affairs were on the drift. Helen and her sisters, 
 were ignorant of the proximity of any danger, even 
 with a servant of the Sheriff of Middlesex on the 
 premises. What should girls know about bills, or 
 warrants of attorney, or sheriff's officers, especially 
 when the head of the family was so clever and so 
 good? Meanwhile, things went on much as usual: 
 and the worthy retailers in the neighbourhood did 
 not in the least object to give credit, so long as it 
 was understood that the difficulty was nothing 
 more than a temporary hitch in the City, or one 
 of those little complications, which are so hard
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to make clear to strangers, and so uninteresting 
 when they are explained. 
 
 Even with the most patient and amicable trades- 
 people in the world, however, Christmas has long 
 been a festival, above all others, associated in 
 shopkeepers' minds with the discharge of overdue 
 book-debts; and it was an omen of the darkest 
 complexion when, on an early day in December, 
 1830, a report was circulated in Turnham Green, 
 that the gentlefolks from Linden House had 
 quitted it, no one could tell why or whither. 
 
 The fact was, that the crisis was approaching 
 so rapidly the cash (to use a common phrase) 
 was ebbing at such a rate, that Mr. and Mrs. 
 Wainewright, consulting seriously together, con- 
 cluded that the best course, under the distressing 
 circumstances, was to quit the place, and move up 
 provisionally into town, till something could be 
 arranged. There was not much breathing time. 
 
 The girls had of course to be told that there was 
 a trifling pecuniary dilemma ; but they were not 
 informed that everything they had left behind them 
 in their fine house in the suburbs was under a bill 
 of sale, which had been renewed from time to time 
 since August, and could not be put off much 
 longer. What was the use of making the dear 
 creatures miserable, and what did they know about 
 bills of sale ? So Mr. and Mrs. Wainewright, Miss 
 Helen and Miss Madeleine Abercromby, two female 
 servants and baby Griffiths Wainewright, went, 
 on the 12th of December, 1830, into lodgings at 
 No. 12, Conduit Street, Eegent Street, over the shop 
 of Mr. Nicoll, the tailor.
 
 INTRODUCTION. xliii 
 
 They . were somewhat dear quarters to have 
 chosen, the paucity of funds considered ; but Mr. 
 Wainewright liked to see those about him comfort- 
 able and to be comfortable himself. Besides, when 
 important business has to be transacted, there is 
 always an immense advantage in being central. 
 
 From Conduit Street, by prompt and skilful 
 management, Linden House might still be saved. 
 So, at least, Mr. and Mrs Wainewright calculated. 
 But no time was to be lost; for the holders of 
 security threatened, unless the claim against the 
 estate were settled, to realize before Christmas. 
 Besides local creditors, they owed 610 under a 
 warrant of attorney, to Mr. Sharpus, of Cockspur 
 Street, crockery dealer and (under the rose, to oblige 
 a friend), money-lender, and about 200 to an 
 auctioneer in Piccadilly, a personal friend. There 
 was also a bill of sale on the furniture, granted on 
 the 8th of July, 1830, to the said Mr. Sharpus, 
 and a man (as I have stated) was in possession. 
 The warrant and bill were held over by consent 
 to the 21st December instant. 
 
 To the two dear girls, although the temporary 
 embarrassment was not altogether capable of dis- 
 guise, the unlooked-for change in their circum- 
 stances was made to wear, as far as might be, 
 the appearance of a jaunty distraction, which 
 would afford a capital opportunity for visiting 
 the various places of amusement in the metro- 
 polis. As to Turnham Green, it was quite in the 
 country, and the journey to and fro after dusk was 
 not only fatiguing, but positively dangerous.
 
 xliv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The charm of the theatres alone was sufficient 
 to redeem the new arrangement from much of its 
 strangeness and incidental inconveniences. They 
 went to the play on the 13th December, the day 
 after their arrival in town. They paid Another 
 visit on the following evening. Conduit Street 
 was so central that it seemed a pity to engage a 
 coach for so short a distance, though the weather 
 was very severe and wet. Helen's hoots were too 
 thin, and her feet were wet, when she reached the 
 theatre, and she was so imprudent as to sit out the 
 performance. They walked home, however, and had 
 supper. To go to bed after an evening's amuse- 
 ment without some refreshment is so cheerless. 
 There were oysters and ale; on the preceding 
 evening it had been lobsters and bottled porter 
 rather unwholesome diet at so late an hour. 
 Helen declined at first, on the plea that she felt 
 a chill, and would rather retire at once, but she 
 was over-persuaded. 
 
 In the night, the poor girl was very poorly. It 
 was thought she had taken cold. Mr. Wainewnght 
 sent to a chemist's for a black draught, which she 
 took; but on Thursday the 16th, as she did not 
 improve they called in Dr. Locock, of Hanover 
 Square, an old acquaintance of the family, who 
 found her sitting in her bedroom, and suffering 
 from " a great headache, a weight over the eyes, 
 and partial blindness; she had a full, labouring 
 pulse, and shooting pains about the head." He 
 ordered her camomile and senna as an aperient, 
 and promised to look in again.
 
 INTRODUCTION. xlv 
 
 On Friday morning, the 17th, the head did not 
 seem to be much easier, and Dr. Locock recom- 
 mended cupping, which relieved the head for the 
 moment, but made the patient feverish. She was 
 somewhat better, and got up at dinner-time, and 
 Mrs. Wainewright and Madeleine paid her the 
 greatest possible attention. She was obliged to re- 
 cline on the sofa, and was observed by the servants 
 to shiver a good deal ; she complained also of sick- 
 ness, but Dr. Locock thought her progressing favour- 
 ably, and merely continued the treatment, Mr. and 
 Mrs. Wainewright using their own judgment as to 
 the administration of the medicine. In simple 
 cases, such as Dr. Locock had pronounced this 
 to be, nothing was more common than for people 
 to physic themselves. 
 
 On the night of Saturday the 18th, Sunday the 
 19th, and Monday, she had vomited so violently 
 as to leave her in a most exhausted state : through 
 the whole of Sunday night she was very restless 
 and hysterical, and on the Monday morning (Decem- 
 ber 20th) she betrayed symptoms of delirium, and 
 declared she saw a little boy in the room. It was 
 extreme debility occasioned by the sickness. Still 
 on the Tuesday morning Dr. Locock pronounced 
 her better, directed a continuance of her medicine 
 a camphor pill, which served as a sedative, 
 and was to call again as usual, to see how she 
 went on. He apprehended no immediate danger ; 
 but she was to be kept quiet, and the child 
 (Griffiths Wainewright) was not to go near her. 
 Helen, however, was still contined to her bed,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and evidently needed great care. She had L been 
 upstairs just a week, and Mr and Mrs Waine- 
 wright held a little consultation together and 
 &ht that Helen would be better for a 
 powder, of which the nauseous flavour could be 
 dis-uised, as usual, by giving it in jelly and 
 Mr and Mrs. Wainewright, haying satisfied 
 themselves that their patient had played them no 
 trick, but had really taken what was good for her 
 went out for a stroll, leaving Helen under the 
 large of an old and trusty servant, who had been 
 at linden House in the old Doctor's time and who 
 had known Mr. Wainewright since he was a 
 Httleboy. Mr. and Mrs. Wainewright promised 
 to return as soon as possible, and nurse was to 
 take every imaginable care of the invalid. 
 
 Abouf two in the afternoon, not very long after 
 the departure of her master and mistress the 
 womanwas alarmed beyond measure by symptoms 
 rf violent convulsions, and by Miss Abercromby 
 Sasping her hand like a vice. Dr. Locock was 
 insSfy summoned, and discovered, on examma- 
 "normal pressure on the brain; the poor 
 voun- lady cried, < Oh doctor, I am dying ! I fed 
 f ami am sure so." He tried to reassure her; 
 but she went on: "My mother died m the same 
 way yes, my poor mother! Oh, my poor mother ! 
 Xck wrote a new prescription which she took at 
 once, and which appeared to relieve her ; and when 
 he left pronounced the crisis averted ; she was iai 
 easier aiid more composed, and in fact said to 
 him : " Oh, doctor, I was gone to heaven, but yoi 
 have brought me back to earth ! "
 
 INTRODUCTION. xlvii 
 
 Before Dr. Locock, however, could have reached 
 his own house, the pains returned with aggravated 
 violence. A local practitioner was called in and 
 did his utmost to alleviate the suffering; but Helen 
 gradually sank, and breathed her last at four 
 o'clock on the afternoon of that same day, without 
 having the consolation of beholding once more 
 the features of Mr. and Mrs. Wainewright. 
 
 Dr. Locock called at four, and found that she 
 had just expired. As he went out he met Mr. 
 Wainewright at the door, and told him what had 
 happened. He appeared much shocked and 
 astonished, as he had left her much better than 
 she was the night before. He inquired what was 
 the cause of death. " Mischief in the brain," Dr. 
 Locock said. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wainewright returned to a house 
 of desolation, and lavishly upbraided themselves 
 with their want of thought in prolonging their 
 walk. If they had been on the spot, Helen's 
 precious life might have been spared to them all. 
 Dr. Locock was asked to come round, and the 
 Wainewrights were clamorous for an immediate 
 inquest, that there might be no possible room for 
 suspecting foul play. 
 
 The medical evidence (Dr. Locock again) and 
 the coroner's jury ascribed no blame to anyone. 
 There was a remarkable accumulation of water at 
 the base of the brain, which accounted for the 
 agony of the deceased and for the fatal result ; and 
 there were also certain curious specks on the coat 
 of the stomach; but the physician and the jury
 
 xlviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 found no proof of other than natural causes. 1 A 
 .good deal of stress was laid on the shell-fish and 
 the bottled beer. 
 
 It was found that the late Miss Abercromby 
 had left a will, by whicli all her property and 
 interest came to her sister, Mr. Wainewright being 
 named executor. This document had, it seemed, 
 ^een completed in great haste on the 13th of the 
 month, when Helen perhaps found her health not 
 so strong as it had been, and was anxious to secure 
 what she could to Madeleine. 
 
 But what property could it be ? Houses, lands, 
 and hereditaments ? Why, the poor child, I have 
 not long ago narrated, was an orphan with an 
 annuity from the Board of Ordnance of 101., origi- 
 nally granted in 1812 after her father's death, and 
 continued after that of her mother's in 1830 to the 
 two sisters, on the plea that they were totally un- 
 provided for. 
 
 Something, therefore, had necessarily altered, 
 in a material manner, Miss Abercromby's pecuniary 
 position within the last few months. It was this : 
 by the foresight of her good brother-in-law and his 
 wife, Helen's life had been insured in the autumn 
 in various offices for the sum of 18,000/., 2 an excep- 
 tionably large total, but not too much so to provide 
 suitably for Madeleine. The first year's premiums 
 amounting to 2201., which had been paid up by 
 
 1 See Appendix. 
 
 2 3,000/. in the Palladium, 3,OOOZ. in the Eagle, in the 
 Hope and Provident for 2,0001. each, in the Imperial for 
 3,OOOZ., and in the Pelican for 5,0001.
 
 INTHODUCTIOX. xlix 
 
 the deceased with bank-notes given to her for 
 the purpose by her brother-in-law, were a severe 
 strain on the family finances just at present. But 
 the object was so important, and now that this had 
 happened, they had at all events one thing to be 
 thankful for, Madeleine's future was secure. 
 
 But the offices, on being apprised in due course 
 of the melancholy and whollyunforeseen occurrence, 
 shook their heads privately, and entertained doubts 
 which were absolutely degrading to themselves. 
 On being pressed by Mr. Wainewrightin his capacity 
 as executor, the boards expressed a common opinion, 
 that there were circumstances connected with the 
 business which made it imperative that time should 
 be allowed by the young lady's friends for the 
 institution of formal inquiries, more especially as 
 death had ensued at so early a" date after the com- 
 pletion of the policies. Miss Abercromby's exe- 
 cutor threatened proceedings, and the offices there- 
 upon unanimously refused to pay. 
 
 There was unquestionably solid ground for this 
 unfortunate and disappointing result, for even if 
 the family, which was so far a matter of course, 
 went into litigation, the law was pregnant with all 
 sorts of risks and delays, and months a year 
 might elapse before Madeleine Abercromby's 
 money was forthcoming. The offices, in resisting 
 the claim, asserted that they had been deceived. 
 The insurances had been effected at successive 
 periods between March and October, 1830, on the 
 pretence that the young lady aimed thereby at 
 securing certain property, which was expected to 
 accrue under a decree in Chancery within two 
 d
 
 1 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 years, and if her own death occurred meanwhile,, 
 would pass away from the family. At one or two 
 of the establishments, the secretary, struck by 
 Helen's unsophisticated air and manifest ignorance 
 of business, coupled Avith her strangely agitated 
 manner, interrogated her as to the motive ; but she 
 always met these kindly-intended remonstrances,, 
 or silenced objections, by saying that she acted 
 under the advice of friends, who knew more about 
 such matters than she did, and could not possibly 
 have any improper views. Two offices actually 
 declined a proposal to effect further policies, which 
 would have raised the amount recoverable to 
 upward of 25,000/. 
 
 The contention was, that the circumstances 
 had been misrepresented from beginning tq end ; 
 that the life was accepted for two and three years 
 respectively, solely on the faith of a declaration, 
 that the object was special and in accordance 
 with statements made by the young lady and 
 her friends, and that Miss Abercromby had been 
 induced to utter falsehoods for the sake of pro- 
 moting what appeared, by the light of recent events, 
 a mere speculation on the part of the Wainewrights. 
 
 The offices left the cause of Miss Abercromby's 
 death outside the immediate question, and justified 
 their action on the simple plea of wilful mis- 
 statement. The falsehood of the tale about 
 Helen's interest in certain Chancery proceedings 
 involved, of course, a complete absence of consi- 
 deration, and the fatality which turned an invest- 
 ment of 220 for a few months into 18,000, 
 was too extraordinary to escape suspicion, more
 
 INTRODUCTION. II 
 
 particularly as a case was said by the secretaiy 
 of the Alliance to have occurred quite lately, in 
 which a young lady had had her life insured 
 by her friends, and had soon afterwards come to 
 her death by unfair means just such another 
 young lady, the secretary informed Helen, as she 
 Avas. Moreover, the actuary of the Provident pro- 
 nounced Helen " a remarkably healthy, cheerful, 
 beautiful young woman, whose life was one of a 
 thousand," and elsewhere the officials had a little 
 pleasantry about Helen still going year after year 
 to pay her premium long after they were in their 
 graves. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wainewright, in two years, had 
 thus suffered three severe bereavements. Mr. 
 Griffiths died quite suddenly in 1829. Mrs. 
 Abercromby died quite suddenly in 1830, and now, 
 in December of the very same year, it was poor 
 Helen's turn ! the saddest blow of all ! She died, 
 by a singular coincidence, on the very day to which 
 good Mr. Sharpus, of Cockspur Street, had agreed 
 to let the bill of sale stand over. 
 
 The repudiation of the claim by the insurance 
 offices was a cruel addition to their trouble. Mr. 
 Wainewright had asked Helen, a little after their 
 settlement in Conduit Street, in order to facilitate 
 some arrangements he was making to clear up 
 a momentary difficulty, to assign to him the policy 
 effected in the Palladium, and a second, for a 
 nominal consideration in each case of 19 19s., 
 and this commonplace operation was accomplished 
 with the professional assistance of a Mr. Kirk. 
 This, with the effects at Turnham Green, formed a 
 d 2
 
 ]jj INTRODUCTION. 
 
 tangible security, and Mr. Wainewright arranged, 
 1831, about a month after 
 
 * o 
 
 t, to advance, on a warrant of attor- 
 
 . 
 
 than 200 (the auctioneer already ed to) 
 
 wr It was described as of Linden House, Turnham 
 Set Esquire. Mr. Wainewright's signatures to 
 tirAprrl document indicate some return of the 
 old cheerfulness ; they are free and vigorous, as a 
 facsimile of one of them will show. 
 
 I have slightly disturbed the sequence of events. 
 Between January and April the P^aUomfor 
 the suit at law being incomplete, and Mr Wame- 
 wright having a desfre to travel for a short time m
 
 INTRODUCTION. liii 
 
 France, it was settled that Mrs. Wainewright and 
 Madeleine should take lodgings at Pimlico, and 
 live there quietly together during papa's conti- 
 nental divertissement. Mr. Acheson, an intelli- 
 gent and respectable solicitor, connected with Mr. 
 Atkinson of Basiughall Street, was charged with 
 putting the matter in train, with a view to filing 
 a bill in Chancery against the Directors of the 
 Imperial, to recover 3,000. A favourable decree 
 was calculated to govern the others. Mr. Acheson 
 was sanguine, and his confidence probably contri- 
 buted to make Atkinson feel that he should not be 
 far wrong in advancing the 1,000 so urgently 
 needed by Wainewright in 1831. This is a sorrily 
 dated biography ; but I think, on the whole, that 
 I am not mistaken in ascribing to the brief interval 
 between the failure of the application to the offices 
 and his departure for France a queer little adven- 
 ture, of which the neighbourhood of Mecklenburgh 
 Square was the scene. 
 
 It appears that at Caroline Place in this vicinity 
 resided, with his daughter, an acquaintance of Mr. 
 Wainewright a native of Norfolk, who had served 
 in the army. He was not in very flourishing cir- 
 cumstances at present, and Mr. Wainewright and 
 himself had consequently one strong point of sym- 
 pathy. Moreover, Wainewright was an agreeable 
 associate, and his spirits neverflagged. Money might 
 be tight ; affairs might be gloomy ; a writ or two 
 might be abroad ; but still he was cheerful and 
 ready to look at the bright side. One evening, his 
 Norfolk friend saw him as usual, and he was more
 
 liv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 than ordinarily sprightly quite himself again 
 quite the old Janus. He took a guitar and went 
 into the square, where he serenaded the young 
 lady. While he was so pleasantly engaged, another 
 gentleman stood sponsor for him to a minion of the 
 sheriff, who tapped the wrong shoulder inadvertently, 
 but on learning his mistake, lay in wait again, and 
 brought the truant game to earth at last, opposite 
 the house of A r an Hoist, a pupil of Mr. Waine- 
 wright's idol, Fuseli. 
 
 Mr. Wainewright had accustomed himself to 
 these little contretemps; they were, in balancing 
 the advantages and drawbacks of pecuniary em- 
 barrassments, one of the drawbacks. But they 
 could always be arranged. When Paul grew per- 
 emptory, tender-hearted Peter invariably came to 
 the rescue. 
 
 It happened most conveniently for Mr. Waine- 
 wright that, when he was contemplating the little 
 tour abroad, his former acquaintances in Caroline 
 Place, the Norfolk gentleman with the daughter 
 whom Wainewright the gallant Janus had 
 serenaded with his guitar, conceived a fancy for 
 settling with Miss at Boulogne. His affairs 
 had been getting more and more entangled, and 
 money had been waxing scarcer. So with his 
 daughter this gentleman crossed over to the Goshen 
 of the impecunious, and not long after him his 
 friend the musician, artist and essay writer, the 
 latter not sorry, maybe, to place twenty miles of 
 sea between himself and inconsiderate encroachers 
 on his privacy. It was only till matters were 
 arranged Acheson was quite clear about it.
 
 INTRODUCTION. lv 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Wainewriglit cordially accepted 
 an invitation to make his English friend's quarters 
 his home, and nothing was so natural as an occa- 
 sional tendency in the chat to turn upon finance, 
 specially considered in its bearing on gentlemen 
 in temporary straits. Mr. Wainewright's military 
 associate was necessarily less conversant than he 
 chanced to be with the peculiar facilities which in 
 such cases are afforded by insurance societies. 
 
 It was the simplest thing conceivable. " You 
 want a little money for an emergency," he says to 
 the Norfolk gentleman : " you write to an office 
 you propose to effect a loan, and to insure your 
 life that is always part of the treaty with these 
 persons inquiries are made ; references are given ; 
 a medical agent to the company examines you, and 
 reports you an average life ; a policy and a deed 
 are prepared ; and you receive the loan, less the 
 first year's premium and interest. What could be 
 easier or in fact more agreeable ? " 
 
 The Norfolk gentleman in difficulties concluded 
 that the suggestion, which arose in a perfectly 
 casual way out of some conversation, was worth 
 notice ; for the resistance of the offices to his good 
 friend's fair legal claims was a mere paltry quibble 
 of which Acheson would very quickly dispose. 
 It was only a question of time. 
 
 Wainewright thought the Pelican as good an 
 office as any, and in order to borrow anything like 
 a sum it was necessary to take out a rather heavy 
 policy. The negotiation was set on foot without 
 more ado. Of course it was not expedient, seeing
 
 Ivi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 that he was so very delicately situated, that Waine- 
 wright's name should appear. 
 
 The proposal was made by the Norfolk gentle- 
 man. The Pelican instructed its agents. All 
 questions were satisfactorily answered. The Norfolk 
 gentleman's life was reported to be an excellent 
 life. The policy for 3,000^. was completed, and 
 the loan paid over. But the valuable counsel 
 which he had tendered to his host to the man 
 who, for the sake of old times, had taken In'm under 
 his roof, had not realised the expected result in 
 alleviating anxiety very long, when the poor young 
 lady was bereft of her remaining parent by one of 
 those sudden fatalities which seemed to haunt Mr. 
 Wainewright like an evil genius. He had been 
 in his usual health and spirits, as they say, when 
 he was seized with the most terrible pains in the 
 head, accompanied by dizziness and vomiting, and 
 died under the eyes of his friend and his daughter 
 in a state of coma after a very short illness. 
 
 Those about him could think of nothing which 
 could have produced this extraordinary effect on a 
 sound constitution without any previous warning. 
 They tried to recollect what he had done, what he 
 could have eaten, what he could have drunk. But 
 it was incomprehensible. Poor papa had taken his 
 coffee one evening as usual with Mr. Wainewright 
 they often took it tete-a-tete after dinner and went 
 to bed without complaining. He was taken in 
 the night. What could be more strange and more 
 painful ? Mr.- Wainewright felt, besides, the ex- 
 treme awkwardness of his own position, lett alone 
 with a young unmarried lady.
 
 INTRODUCTION. Ivil 
 
 His presence was apt to be misconstrued, and he 
 took the first decent opportunity of bidding the 
 orphan an affectionate and sympathetic adieu. If 
 there was one single mite of comfort, it was to reflect 
 that he had been indirectly instrumental in getting 
 3,OOOZ. out of the Pelican. 
 
 After the bustling sort of life at Boulogne, it 
 occurred to him that he would be most likely to 
 rally from the shock to his nervous system, by 
 going clean across the country to Brittany, and he 
 finally fixed on St. Omer as a pleasant retreat. 
 He was remarkably fortunate here ; for he met 
 with a gentleman who had a delightful country 
 house near the town itself, and was so struck by 
 the superiority of his attainments and his gentle- 
 manly presence, that he invited him to make 
 a stay with him. 
 
 Wainewright begged to be permitted to forward 
 the new address to his correspondents in England, 
 as he had some business of the most important 
 character in progress just at present. Mr. Young, 
 clerk to Mr. Acheson, therefore came over, with 
 news about the proceedings which were being 
 taken, and with certain documents, which required 
 Mr. Wainewright's signature. Young told him 
 that Madeleine Abercromby was married ta 
 the auctioneer in Piccadilly ; l and he also told 
 his friends, when he returned, that the house, where 
 
 1 At St. Jcames's Church, Piccadilly, May 19, 1832. Her 
 husband first saw her, I believe, at Turnham Green, when 
 he went there, in the way of business, to value the library 
 left behind in the house.
 
 Iviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 their client was staying, was dreadfully lonely, 
 that their client seemed to be quite at home with 
 the old gentleman, but that somehow he did not 
 like the look of things. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the law was holding its very 
 leisurely course at home. In these cases of litiga- 
 tion, delay is hardly to be avoided, and fifty years 
 ago it was far more serious. But, apart from the 
 time occupied by the completion of the necessary 
 evidence and papers, the proceedings contemplated 
 by the friends of the late Miss Abercromby against 
 the offices were retarded by one or two exceptional 
 causes. The question of expense, in the event of 
 an adverse decision, was of itself serious enough, 
 where money was so precious, and the estate was in 
 debt; but the absence of Wainewright, the executor 
 and assignee, who evinced a great reluctance to 
 return, and the error committed in entering the 
 suit at the Court of Chancery, contributed to 
 procrastinate an issue. In short, it was not till 
 Trinity Term, 1835, that the trial, in which Waine- 
 wright was the nominal plaintiff, and the Directors 
 of the Imperial Life Office the defendants, came 
 on for hearing. A verbatim report will be given 
 elsewhere, 1 and a repetition of the details cannot 
 be attempted. Eminent counsel were secured on 
 both sides, and the evidence was both elaborate 
 and remarkable. Dr. Locock reiterated his opinion, 
 that there was nothing in the appearance of the 
 remains to suggest foul play, and that learned 
 practitioner assented to the possibility that the 
 
 1 See Appendix, No. 2.
 
 INTRODUCTION. lix 
 
 convulsions might have been superinduced by the 
 violence of the vomiting. The presence of vege- 
 table poison was extremely difficult of detection 
 after death. 
 
 The whole history of the eventful year 1830 
 was necessarily re-opened, and various witnesses 
 swore to various details, which I have furnished 
 in due order, as to the circumstances attending the 
 illness and death of the insured. The case was 
 tried before Lord Abinger and a special jury in 
 the Court of Exchequer on the 29th June, 1835. 
 Neither Mrs. Wainewright nor Madeleine was 
 called. It was a purely civil action, and the judge 
 impressed on the jury, at the close of the evidence 
 and addresses, that the cause of the young lady's 
 death was irrelevant to the immediate inquiry. 
 What they had to consider was, whether there was 
 sufficient proof of misrepresentation and actual 
 deceit in answering the questions put by the offices 
 prior to the completion of the policies, and also 
 whether the insurance was not to be viewed strictly 
 as a speculation on the part of the plaintiff. The 
 jury, however, was unable to agree, and a juror was 
 withdrawn. 
 
 The offices concluded that the matter was at an 
 end ; but the legal advisers of the family obtained 
 leave for a new trial, which was heard in the 
 following Michaelmas term. This to a large extent 
 retraversed the old ground ; there were the same 
 witnesses, the same pleas ; the same direction to 
 the jury emanated from Lord Abinger who, while 
 he characterised the case as " pregnant with sus-
 
 INT110DUCTION. 
 
 picion," ruled that the point before the Court was 
 simply whether or not the offices had been misled 
 by the insured and her friends. It was stated by 
 the iudge, that the person, whose name stood irt 
 the record as the plaintiff, was not in the country,. 
 and was never likely, he believed, to revisit it. Ihe 
 verdict was for the defendants, on the ground 
 misrepresentation. 
 
 The lawsuit itself terminated here ; no further 
 overt or formal attempt was made to obtain the 
 money; but it has been signified to me, that the 
 offices were eventually persuaded, as a compromise, 
 to pay to the legal representatives of Helen Aber- 
 cromby either a part or the whole of the expenses 
 incurred in the litigation. 
 
 Durin<? these transactions, Wamewright 
 stood aloof, and was still a pilgrim in a foreign 
 but friendly, land. For some exceUent reason c 
 his own, no doubt, but unluckily, as it turned out, 
 he had been travelling of late under the protection 
 of a nom de guerre. It was no longer Bonmot, or 
 Weathercock, or Vinkbooms, but Mr. - 
 bad luck lay in the fact, that the Correctional 
 Police, ever more inquisitorial than the dear old 
 English Charlie of those days, interviewed him, 
 and findin^ certain discrepancies between his ac- 
 count of himself and the ostensible facts, caused 
 his incarceration at Paris for six calendar months 
 as a suspected person. The prison authorities in 
 subjecting him to the customary rfyime, found that 
 the Englishman carried about him some ot the 
 powder of the nux vomica, otherwise known as
 
 INTRODUCTION. Ixi 
 
 -strychnine, which was used in many places for 
 poisoning vermin, dogs and cats, and even rabbits. 
 It was put down to the Monsieur Anglais's 
 eccentricity. 
 
 The six months passed away, and Wainewright 
 conceived a desire to cross over for a day or two 
 to England. It was the month of June, 1837, two 
 years after the trial in the Exchequer, seven after 
 Helen's death. He always liked to be central in 
 the old days, when lie chose Conduit Street for 
 that very reason. He now took up his quarters at 
 an hotel in Covent Garden. He was incognito, 
 and therefore it was just as well, when he went 
 into a sitting-room on the basement, to draw down 
 the blinds. He had no time to visit friends! it 
 was quite a flying trip. I have heard it whispered 
 that a lady was in the question not Mrs. Waine- 
 wright ; for the husband ^nd wife separated in 
 1831, to meet no more. 
 
 By one of those chances which are incapable of 
 explanation, a noise in the street attracted his 
 attention, and he pushed aside the blind for a 
 moment to see what it was. Some one outside was 
 heard to exclaim : " That's Wainewright, the bank- 
 forger ! " Bow Street and Covent Garden are 
 neighbours ; the speaker was Forrester, the runner, 
 who had seen my hero in France, and instantly 
 recognised him. He was arrested, charged, and 
 locked up. 
 
 We must travel back, for an instant, to the year 
 1824, the one immediately subsequent to Waine- 
 wright's retirement from the London Magazine and
 
 Ixii INTRODUCTION 
 
 from literature. At that date was perpetrated by 
 him, doubtless under the pressure of pecuniary 
 exigencies created by his own thoughtless prodi- 
 gality, an act, which was then capital. Hitherto, 
 since his arrival of age, he had been content to 
 live on the interest of about 5,000 invested by 
 his trustees, four in number, in the New Four per 
 Cents., and payable through the Bank of England ; 
 but in 1824, according to his own admission, and 
 on the puerile plea that he was merely dealing 
 with his own property, he forged a document, 
 signed by these gentlemen, authorizing the Bank 
 to transfer and assign to him the principal. This 
 fraud remained undetected for twelve years or so, 
 it having been taken for granted probably by the 
 trustees, that the interest was being remitted as 
 usual. Wainewright lived very comfortably on 
 this little haul so long .as it lasted : bought prints, 
 majolica, choice vintages, Eoger Paynes, more 
 hungrily than ever ; took apartments in expensive 
 neighbourhoods, and invited distinguished char- 
 acters to luxurious dinners, and had a merry time 
 of it. But I apprehend that the gold mine was 
 nearly, if not quite, worked out, when Unclo 
 Griffiths took him by the hand, and gave him a 
 home at Turnham Green. 
 
 A warrant for Wainewright's apprehension was 
 taken out, as soon as the Bank authorities were 
 satisfied that the spurious power of attorney was 
 in Wainewright's hand, and Forrester, the detective, 
 had been on his track ; but he was unable to secure 
 his person till he chose to place himself within
 
 INTRODUCTION. Ixiii 
 
 jurisdiction. It has been hinted that he was 
 inveigled into the country by female influence. 
 Did the lady just indicated lend herself as a 
 decoy ? I wonder whether it was the poor Nor- 
 folk gentleman's orphan ! 
 
 The forgery was held to be substantiated, and 
 lie was committed for trial ; nor was he kept long 
 in suspense. A decision at the Midsummer session, 
 at the Old Bailey (July 5, 1837), may be said to 
 have hurried to a virtual close this varied and 
 striking career. 
 
 The following report from the Times newspaper 
 is rather more full than that which occurs in the 
 Sessions Eeport : 
 
 "Before Mr. Justice Vaughan and Mr. Baron 
 Alderson. Thomas Griffiths Wainewright, aged 42, 
 a man of gentlemanly appearance, wearing musta- 
 chios, was indicted for forging and uttering a certain 
 power of attorney for 2,259, with intent to defraud 
 the Governor and Company of the Bank of England." 
 
 [In the Sessions' version he is described as] 
 "feloniously, knowingly, and fraudulently demand- 
 ing, and endeavouring to have transferred, assigned, 
 sold, and conveyed, the sum of 2,250, part of the 
 share of 5,200, New Four per Cent, annuities, the 
 property of Eobert Wainewright, 1 Edward Smith, 2 
 [Henry] Foss, 3 and Edward Foss." 4 . . . 
 
 1 A solicitor, but not the partner in the house at Furnival's 
 Inn 
 
 2 The same remark applies. 
 
 3 The publisher, and partner in the firm of Payne and Foss. 
 
 4 Brother of Henry Foss, and a solicitor.
 
 IxJV INTKODUCTIOX. 
 
 There were five indictments against the prisoner, 
 to all of which he pleaded Not Guilty, when he 
 was arraigned before Mr. Serjeant Arabin in the 
 course of the morning. On being brought before 
 the judges, however, he begged to be allowed to 
 withdraw the former plea, and then pleaded Guilty 
 to two of the indictments, which were not ot a 
 capital nature. 1 
 
 " The counsel for the Bank having explained that 
 there were three other indictments, but that the 
 Bank did not desire to shed blood, 2 the plea of 
 Guilty on the two minor charges was recorded, and 
 the prisoner, at the close of the session, sentenced 
 by the Recorder to transportation for life. 
 
 Wainewright, on receiving sentence, was con- 
 ducted back to Newgate, preparatory to his removal 
 to a penal colony. The gaol was at that time 
 under the old regulations, which huddled up in one 
 wretched cell criminals of all grades. Wainewright s 
 companions were a bricklayer and a sweep. Here 
 he was visited by some of his friends ; among other 
 
 i The prisoner afterwards alleged that he was trepanned 
 into this substitution of plea by the Governor of Newgate^ 
 acting on instructions from the Bank Parlour and was 
 Ted to believe that by throwing himself thus on the mercy 
 of the Court, the penalty awarded would be of a nominal 
 character. Credat Judvus f At another tame he insinuated 
 that the step was taken at the instance of the offices for the 
 purpose of getting him out of the country. Credat ^dem / 
 
 * It was iust about this time that a strong antagonism to 
 capital punishment set in, and that some papers advocating 
 its abolition appeared in the Morning Herald. A selection 
 from them was published in 1836, 2 vols, 12mo.
 
 INTRODUCTION. IxV 
 
 who saw him were Mr. Hablot Browne, Mr. 
 Macready, and Mr. Dickens. 
 
 Mr. Forster, in his " Life of Dickens," gives this 
 account. At the time they saw Wainewright, 
 however, he must have been tried and convicted, 
 and was awaiting the Eecorder's sentence: "We 
 made together a circuit of nearly all the London 
 prisons ; and in coming to the prisoners under 
 remand, while going over Newgate, accompanied 
 by Macready and Mr. Hablot Browne, were startled 
 by a sudden tragic cry of 'My God! there's 
 Wainewright ! ' In the shabby genteel creature, 
 with sandy disordered hair and dirty moustache, 
 who had turned quickly round with a defiant stare 
 at our entrance, looking at once mean and fierce, 
 and quite capable of the cowardly murders he had 
 committed, Macready had been horrified to recog- 
 nise a man familiarly known to him in former 
 years, and at whose table he had dined." 
 
 His insatiable and morbid self-esteem had not 
 deserted him. To one of his acquaintances he 
 remarked, " They pay me respect here, I assure you ; 
 they think I am here for 10,000 ! " 
 
 But there were others besides the men whom 
 I have named, summoned to their old literary 
 comrade's side at this moment, or induced to bend 
 their steps thither by various considerations, and 
 many are still living who remember the sensation 
 of horror created in their youthful minds by the 
 tale which their elders carried back with them 
 from the cell in Newgate by the felon's unblush- 
 ing avowal of atrocities, in comparison with which 
 e
 
 Ixvi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the fraud on the Bank was a trifle. Indeed, 
 Wainewright treated the forgery itself so lightly 
 that he accounted it a pity that one should be 
 banished for life ignominiously for so venial a fault. 
 Was it not his own money which he had taken 
 into his possession ? His own property derived 
 from his parents from his mother ? There was 
 no equivocation about it; and, then, it was 
 thirteen years since it was done ! another circon- 
 stancc attenuante (his own phrase). This was 
 one of the grounds which he selected to establish 
 his innocence ; another, which strikes me as being 
 totally and cruelly false, and which must strike 
 anybody as being altogether incompatible with the 
 first, was that the act was not his at all. He sought 
 to inculpate a second person, whom he did not 
 name, because " such were their relative positions, 
 that to have disclosed it, would have made him 
 infamous, where any human feeling is manifest." 
 
 Most glorious of egotists ! Most shameless of 
 hypocrites ! Why did he not throw on this anony- 
 mous individual somehow the odium of his later 
 experiments in the virtues of mix vomica ? 
 
 It is stated in Forster's "Life- of Dickens," 
 that Dr. Locock's suspicions, as regarded the 
 Abercromby case, were first distinctly awakened 
 by the testimony supplied by the old nurse at 
 the trial in 1835. The operation of strychnine was 
 at that period very obscurely understood, and yet 
 one can hardly avoid the conclusion that Locock 
 must have been a very dull man. But Forster 
 proceeds to say that the nurse gave it out, that not
 
 INTRODUCTION. Ixvii 
 
 only Mrs. Abercromby, but the younger Griffiths, 
 was known to have died with exactly similar 
 symptoms. If the latter part of the account be 
 correct, it corroborates my own view, and represents, 
 no doubt, the actual fact ; but the newspaper 
 reports make the nurse to have confined her 
 remark to Mrs. Abercromby, and even there to 
 have repeated what Helen herself told her in the 
 agony of death. The truth may very well be that 
 the old servant, who had been at Linden House 
 when George Edward Griffiths expired, imparted 
 to the physician verbally this additional piece of 
 intelligence. 
 
 Wainewright'was not only the primum mobile of 
 the rather trumpery novelette by Dickens, called 
 "Hunted Down," in which the incidents here related 
 with as near an approach as possible to historical 
 truth, are remorselessly travestied, very much in 
 the manner of the Family Herald or Rcynolds's 
 Miscellany t but of Lytton Bulwer's fiction published 
 under the name of LUCRETIA, thirty-three years since. 
 
 In his preface to the first edition of that highly- 
 wrought work, 1846, the author says : " Incredible 
 as it may seem, the crimes herein related took 
 place within the last seventeen years. There has 
 been no exaggeration as to their extent, no great 
 departure from their details, the means employed, 
 even that which seems most far-fetched (the instru- 
 ment of the poisoned ring) have their foundation 
 in literal facts. Nor have I much altered the 
 social position of the criminals, nor in the least 
 overrated their attainments and intelligence."
 
 Ixviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Mrs. Wainewriglit, in fact, as I have already 
 stated, sat to the novelist for the portrait of 
 Lucrctia, Clavering, and Wainewright is Varney. 
 In the novel, the man urges on the woman when, 
 she falters ; whether Bulwer had authority for 
 this turn of the story I cannot say ; and, again, the 
 book makes Lucretia her confederate's stepmother, 
 not his wife. In many respects Bulwer unques- 
 tionably followed pretty closely the reality ; but it 
 is to be suspected that in the particulars which he 
 furnishes of Wainewright's convict career he has 
 used with great freedom the romancist's privilege. 
 
 " It is now well known," Mr. Thornbury tell us, 
 " that he wore a ring in which he always carried 
 strychnine, crystals of the Indian nux vomica, a 
 poison almost tasteless, difficult of discovery, and 
 capable of almost infinite dilution." 
 
 When Lord Abinger charged the jury at the 
 Exchequer, in the civil action against the insurance 
 company in 1835, this circumstance was not well 
 known ; it transpired when the French police 
 took Wainewright under their protection a twelve- 
 month or so later, and Mr. Forrester of Bow Street 
 would be among the earliest to hear of it from 
 his Parisian confreres. Yet the bench distinctly 
 pointed to the whole affair as one " pregnant with 
 suspicion," and one of the heads under which Dr. 
 Locock was cross-questioned, was as to the presence 
 of traces of vegetable poison in Miss Abercromby's 
 remains. 
 
 The revelations of the convict to his friends or 
 visitors in Newgate more than justified Lord
 
 INTKODUCTION. IxiX 
 
 Abinger's surmises, and shed a fearfully clear light 
 on poor Helen Abercroniby's death-bed words, 
 saying that, as she was dying so her mother had 
 died. Yet she did not, could not, know the whole 
 truth ; for as they were hurried out of the world 
 by strychnine, so was George Edward Griffiths the 
 uncle, in 1829, at Turnham Green, and so was the 
 confiding English officer at Boulogne, a few years 
 subsequently. 
 
 Mr. Thornbury who, I believe, was personally 
 acquainted with the unfortunate gentleman's family, 
 observes here : " On the night the Norfolk gentle- 
 man in difficulties at Boulogne died, Wainewright 
 insisted on making his friend's coffee, and pressed 
 the poison into the sugar." 
 
 Undoubtedly the worst case of all, however, was 
 that of Helen Abercromby, in which the monster 
 owned that his wife and himself were accomplices, 
 and held consultations, during the progress of the 
 deadly drug in its hideous work, as to the fitness 
 of administering or not administering more. What 
 we do not quite know is whether, as in the novel, 
 the lady faltered when she fully discerned the 
 gravity of the issue, or when something like con- 
 science smote her, and whether Wainewright really 
 exhibited the unflinching sternness and brutality 
 of Varney. It seems likely enough, for some- 
 body put it to him (it is reported), how he could 
 have had the cold-blooded barbarity to kill 
 such a fair, innocent, and trusting creature as 
 Helen, and he replied, after a moment or two's 
 reflection : " Upon my soul, I don't know, unless it 
 was because she had such thick legs ! ''
 
 1XX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 But a different sort of visitor presented liis 
 respects, in the shape of an agent from the life 
 offices which, on learning how the case had gone, 
 lost no time in endeavouring to elicit, at a price, 
 whatever serviceable information the convict 
 might be disposed to communicate. The official 
 let Wainewright be aware that it was useless to 
 deny the charge of poisoning, as his employers had 
 taken the precaution to secure all the papers which 
 he left behind him (with an unpaid score) at his 
 inn in France, including a DIAKY, where he had 
 placed on record, with perfect satisfaction and 
 even zest, the method employed in his various ope- 
 rations. 
 
 The details appeared to have been penned with 
 the same complacency and self-possession, as 
 though the writer had been engaged in committing 
 to paper his essay on " The Amateur's Boudoir," or 
 some dainty morccau for Ollier's Literary Pocket- 
 Booh Was it not all one ? 
 
 At any rate, the insurance agent who waited on 
 our hero in prison, contrived to inform himself on 
 many relevant points, and perhaps he might have 
 taken his leave without delivering the little lecture 
 at the close which is attributed to him. 
 
 " It would be quite useless, Mr. Wainewright," 
 he observed, " to speak to you of humanity, or of 
 tenderness, or laws human or divine ; but does it 
 not occur to you after all that, merely regarded as 
 a speculation, crime is a bad one ? See where it 
 ends ! I talk to you in a shameful prison, and I 
 talk to a degraded convict." The retort which his
 
 - INTRODUCTION. Ixxi 
 
 listener made, after a twirl of his moustache, was 
 at once characteristic of what Bulwer calls in 
 Varney "his constitutional audacity," and so far 
 as the agent was concerned, richly deserved, though 
 it would be more applicable in our own day. 
 " Sir," said he, " you city men enter on your specu- 
 lations and take the chances of them. Some of 
 your speculations succeed; some fail. Mine happen 
 to have failed ; yours happen to have succeeded ; 
 that is the difference, sir, between my visitor and 
 me. But I will tell you one thing in which I have 
 succeeded to the last. I have been determined 
 through life to hold the position of a gentleman. 
 I have always done so. I DO so STILL. It is the 
 custom of this place that each of the inmates of a 
 cell shall take his morning's turn of sweeping it 
 out. I occupy a cell with a bricklayer and a sweep. 
 But, by God, they never offer me the broom ! " 
 
 If ever mortal was haunted by an idiosyncrasy, 
 it was Wainewright. The ruling illusion was as 
 potent as ever. 
 
 A similar trait presents itself to our notice, 
 prior to his conviction, while he lay in gaol await- 
 ing his trial. In a letter to a friend at that time, 
 he represents the cruel injustice of his position, 
 proclaims his innocence, and asserts that he is 
 the possessor of " a soul whose nutriment is love, 
 and its offspring art, music, divine song, and still 
 holier philosophy ! ! " Was ever viler nonsense 
 mouthed in the name of the Nine Muses ? 
 
 I have cited the Diary above, as if it were an 
 ordinary historical paper. In doing so, I rely on
 
 Ixxii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the common tradition and belief of the time. I 
 have not seen it nor can I trace it. Two of the 
 offices principally affected by the frauds have even 
 asked me for information. Not merely, then, is its 
 existence open to legitimate question ; but its exist- 
 ence established, its value as testimony, in a case 
 of this peculiar kind, might be fairly challenged. 
 Eecords of putative facts have been compiled before 
 and since by persons unhealthily greedy of notoriety. 
 But putting the Diary aside, 1 one incontrovertible 
 fact appears to remain, bringing us substantially 
 home to the same point, namely, the condemned 
 man's verbal disclosures to private friends and 
 his confession of the destruction of certain inno- 
 cent lives by poison, accompanied by elucidations 
 of the process by which these enormities were 
 successively committed. 
 
 From Newgate Wainewright was removed to the 
 hulks at Portsmouth, and thence, on the expira- 
 tion of a few days, embarked, one of three hundred 
 convicts, in the " Susan," for Van Diemen's Land. 
 It was " a moral sepulchre," to use his own ex- 
 pression, from which he was never to emerge; 
 yet, from the very hold of the ship which was 
 conveying him to a hopeless and ignominious 
 banishment, he wrote to some one, representing 
 the hardship of being placed in irons, " They think 
 me a desperado. Me ! the companion of poets, 
 
 1 Inquiry has been made at the Imperial and Pelican 
 offices for the MS., but, although the secretaries of those 
 institutions offered every assistance in their power, without 
 success.
 
 INTRODUCTION. Ixxiii 
 
 philosophers, artists, and musicians, a desperado ! 
 You will smile at this no, I think you will feel 
 for the man, educated and reared as a gentleman, 
 now the mate of vulgar ruffians and country 
 bumpkins." 
 
 What a consistent touch! How true Mr. 
 Egomet Bonmot proved to himself ! Was not this 
 Janus Weathercock ad vivum ? 
 
 The career of Wainewright had now practically 
 closed. He was a ruined and lost man. His 
 only biographer hitherto, the late Mr. Justice 
 Talfourd, whose statements are not invariably 
 reliable, let the curtain fall here, and possibly it 
 might have been wise to follow his example 
 Certainly, it is necessary and proper to state, that 
 the sole source of intelligence which we appear 
 to possess, in tracing the later period of this 
 wretched man's life, those years which followed 
 his irretrievable disgrace, is a communication 
 printed in Notes and Queries, for October 6, 1866, 
 from a correspondent, who addresses from Mel- 
 bourne in Australia, and who went for his material 
 to the Melbourne Argus for 1841, and a Victoria 
 paper of later date. This gentleman appends to 
 his narrative, which is both brief and scanty, a 
 remarkable memorial presented by the convict in 
 18-44 to the governor of the settlement. 
 
 In 1842 Wainewright (from failing health, it is 
 to be presumed) was admitted an in-patient of the 
 General Hospital at Hobart Town, where he re- 
 mained some time. On his discharge from this 
 institution, it is evident that the severity of
 
 Ixxiv INTItODUCTION. 
 
 his confinement was somewhat relaxed; for he 
 returned to his old artistic pursuits, took sketches 
 and painted likenesses. But the vices which had 
 marked his character at home still clang to him ; 
 two cases are on record, in which he endeavoured 
 to remove persons, who had excited his animosity, 
 by poison ; and what Talfourd describes as " a 
 voluptuousness which trembles on the borders of the 
 indelicate," signalized his conversation to his female 
 sitters. He is portrayed by one who knew him well, 
 as being at this time, " a man with a massive head, 
 in which the animal propensities were largely 
 developed, and holding an unusually large volume 
 of brain. 1 His eyes were deeply set in his head ; 
 he had a square solid jaw ; he wore his hair long, 
 stooped somewhat, and had a snake-like expression, 
 which was at once repulsive and fascinating. He 
 rarely looked you in the face. His conversation 
 and manner were winning in the extreme ; he was 
 never intemperate, but nevertheless of grossly 
 sensual habit, and an opium-eater. 2 As to moral 
 character, he was a man of the very lowest stamp. 
 He seemed to be possessed by an ingrained malig- 
 
 1 A massive head, however, does not necessarily hold an 
 exceptional volume of brain. It has been remarked, that 
 the heads of murderers or of persons of murderous tenden- 
 cies are often of unusual dimensions, particularly at the 
 sides, where the impulses are said to be located. 
 
 2 Thomas De Quincey had acquired at Oxford a liking 
 for opium, and we all know that he contributed to the 
 London Magazine a series of papers called the "Confessions of 
 an English Opium-Eater." Did Wainewright contract from 
 an acquaintance with a fellow-contributor his love of the
 
 INTRODUCTION. IxxV 
 
 nity of disposition which kept him constantly on 
 the very confines of murder, and lie took a perverse 
 pleasure in traducing persons who had befriended 
 him . . . He was a marked man in Hobart 
 Town dreaded, disliked, and shunned by every- 
 body. His sole living companion was a cat, 
 for which he evinced an extraordinary affection. 1 
 Such was Thomas Griffiths Wainewright.' 
 
 While Wainewright was an inmate of the hos- 
 pital he applied to the Lieutenant-Governor of the 
 settlement, Sir John Eardley Wilmot, for a ticket- 
 of-leave, on the ground of his real innocence of the 
 charge, of the regularity of his previous life, and of 
 his literary services. The request was declared to 
 be contrary to law, and was peremptorily refused. 
 This was in 1844. 
 
 The petitioner speaks of himself in this edifying 
 document as " without friends, good name (the 
 breath of life), or Art (the fuel to it with me) ; 
 tormented at once by memory and ideas struggling 
 for outward form and realization ; barred up from 
 increase of knowledge, and deprived of the exercise 
 of profitable or even of decorous speech .... 
 " Perhaps," he proceeds, " this clinging to the lees 
 of a vapid life may seem base, unmanly, arguing 
 
 fascinating drug ] If so, lie might have repaid the obligation 
 by supplying with a few hints or even with a model the 
 author of the ingenious paper on " Murder considered as 
 one of the Fine Arts." 
 
 1 In earlier and happier days, Cornelius Vinkbooms 
 enumerates a sleek creature of this kind as among the 
 contents of " The Amateur's Boudoir."
 
 Ixxvi INTEODUCTION. 
 
 rather a plebeian than a liberal and gentle descent. 
 But, your Excellency, the wretched exile has a 
 child! and Vanity (sprung from the praise of 
 Flaxman, Charles Lamb, Stothard, Richard Westall, 
 Delaroche. Cornelius, Lawrence, and the god of his 
 worship, FUSELI) whispers that the follower of the 
 ideal might even yet achieve another reputation 
 than that of o, faussaire." 
 
 In conclusion, I can merely repeat what the cor- 
 respondent of Notes and Queries says as to Waine- 
 wright's end, that he died of apoplexy in Hobart 
 Town Hospital, about the year 1852. 1 
 
 Among the characters which history and litera- 
 ture present to our study, there is no lack of indi- 
 viduals, who have attained a more or less unenvi- 
 able prominence by dint of eccentricity or profligacy 
 of life ; but it may well be questioned whether 
 Wainewright, his antecedents, associations and 
 tastes considered, does not supply us with a psycho- 
 logical phenomenon of unsurpassed magnitude and 
 curiosity. 
 
 It was one of the most singular and deplorable 
 cases of intellectual obliquity and deformity that 
 I can call to mind. It is superfluous to insist on the 
 fact that Wainewright was no ordinary man ; but 
 while it may be true, as Talfourd suggests, that 
 Lamb took pleasure in finding sympathy with dis- 
 similitude, I cannot think it possible that a person 
 
 1 The exact date might, perhaps, be ascertained by an 
 investigation of the official papers on the spot. It was, in 
 .all probability, between 1847 and 1852.
 
 INTRODUCTION. Ixxvii 
 
 whose prose style Lamb repeatedly eulogises, and 
 to whose secession from the London Magazine 
 he alludes more than once or twice in terms of regret, 
 could be otherwise than the possessor of unusual 
 ability and literary tact, apart from any artifices of 
 manner or adventitious attractions of dress exter- 
 nal circumstances which would surely not 1 of 
 themselves have been sufficient to command the 
 attention of a man of Lamb's penetration and 
 experience. 
 
 In "Wainewright, at the same time, I realize 
 a man who had no genuine sympathy with Nature 
 or with Art. He was a heartless and callous 
 voluptuary, who was prepared to trample 011 the 
 noblest and tenderest feelings of humanity in 
 the unpitying pursuit of his own selfish purposes. 
 He was a villain of the true melodramatic stamp, 
 but a thousand times more devilish and dangerous 
 than any hero of melodrama. That he murdered 
 his wife's mother by his favourite process was 
 atrocious enough for any ordinary criminal, for 
 any every-day assassin. But Wainewright was 
 
 1 In a note to his " Life of Dickens," ii. 307, Forster re- 
 marks that on the 20th of February, 1847, Lady Blessington 
 received from her brother, Major Povor, who held a 
 military appointment at Hobart Town, a likeness of a 
 young girl in oils, executed for him by Wainewright, whom 
 he employed, without knowing his history, out of charity. 
 It is said that "he had contrived to put the expression of his 
 own wickedness into the portrait of a nice kind-hearted 
 girl." 
 
 On the other hand, none of the artist's personal character 
 seems to have been transfused into the portraits of the two 
 Abercrombys
 
 Ixxviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 peculiarly placed. His necessities more than kept 
 pace with his crimes, and his crimes were the 
 offspring of his necessities. A series of horrible 
 delinquencies, a shocking sacrifice of human life, 
 had arisen how ? from the irresistible force of 
 circumstances operating on a reckless spendthrift, 
 whose principles were as weak as his nature was 
 vain and ostentatious. His two salient characteris- 
 tics were an unconsciousness, actual or feigned, 
 of his true character, and an incongruous assump- 
 tion of reverence for the sublime and beautiful. 
 What Digby Grand is on the stage, Wainewright 
 was in real life and something more ; for take 
 him for all in all, my hero, I maintain, was an A 
 per se, a Crichton among the professors of the 
 science of removing obstacles : namely in his 
 septagonal capacity as literateur, poet, artist, 
 critic, antiquary, assassin, and faussairc. This 
 was he who, with smiling face and jewelled 
 fingers, could infuse the deadly venom from his 
 ring, by stealth and without a qualm, into his 
 friend's coffee into the cup of the man who had 
 offered him an asylum ! This was he who, with 
 his wife at his elbow she not a whit less guilty 
 than himself could watch, demon-like, the con- 
 vulsive tortures and dying struggles of the fair 
 and trusting girl, who leaned on his love, and 
 idolized his every action and word ! " the gentle 
 girl, who had bent over his shallow page," to use 
 his own very words, "the rich curls of her 
 amaranthine hair ! " This was he who destroyed 
 the life of the uncle who had brought him up
 
 INTRODUCTION". Ixxix 
 
 from childhood, had educated him, and finally had 
 left him a fortune and a splendid home. 
 
 There was a vast depth of truth and philosophy 
 in Lamb's remark to Bernard Barton, that it 
 is impossible for any one to say of what he 
 may prove himself capable in the direction of 
 criminality under strong temptation. The seeds 
 which ripened in the case of Wainewright so 
 fatally, are latent in all of us, only asking pressure 
 to develop them ; and this view I urge, not from 
 any foolish proneness for extenuation, but because 
 I think that the Janus Weathercock of 1820 
 the perfumed and jewelled exquisite, in his richly 
 flowered dressing-gown, with his chibouque, his 
 choice liqueurs and wines "from fair Italia," his rare 
 prints, his Eaphael majolica, his pet cat, his gilt 
 French lamp, and his Roger Payne bindings the 
 literary dandy and petit-maitre, who was quizzed 
 by some, admired by many, and petted on all sides 
 the cynosure of his family and the spoiled child 
 of his clique may be perhaps acquitted of having 
 been the most finished of hypocrites as well as the 
 most pitiless of murderers. 
 
 It was, as I have shown, about 1824, when his 
 visits to his old literary haunts grew more inter- 
 mittent, soon to cease wholly, and Lamb unsus- 
 pectingly deplored the loss to the London of Janus's 
 " capital prose," that the horizon began to darken, 
 and Wainewright's baser nature slowly, but surely, 
 asserted itself, ere long to become destructively 
 paramount. It would be satisfactory, I own, and 
 even interesting, to myself to discover precisely at
 
 1XXX INTRODUCTION". 
 
 what stage in his frightful and desperace career 
 the man contrived to gain over his never too 
 scrupulous wife ; for the presence of an accomplice 
 and auxiliary must have exerted an important 
 influence. 
 
 First came Forgery. Then followed Strychnine. 
 Still, when all has been said, does not the man, 
 like all such men, remain a sort of enigma and 
 bewildering contradiction ? He was not a fool, 
 and yet the greatest of fools. He was, one may 
 say, a coward, and yet the successful achievement 
 of his flagitious schemes asked and bespoke no 
 humble share of daring and nerve. He was, in 
 some senses, a vulgar scoundrel, and yet to the 
 last, he was as full of his fine-art rant and aesthetic 
 vapours as in the golden days of Linden House and 
 the London, when the blithe and guileless Janus, 
 fop and empiric as a few might privately judge 
 him, was almost the last person in the world, 
 whom his intimates would have suspected of 
 harbouring designs __ unsurpassed in their wicked- 
 ness! 
 
 Talfourd, in fact, sums up with the observation ; 
 "Surely no contrast presented in th,e wildest 
 romance between a gay cavalier, fascinating Naples 
 or Palermo, and the same hero detected as the 
 bandit or demon of the forest, equals that which 
 time has unveiled between what Mr. Wainewright 
 seemed and what he was." 
 
 Madeleine's husband, who had done his utmost
 
 INTRODUCTION. Ixxxi 
 
 to hold things together, was unfortunately thrown 
 from a chaise in Lincolnshire in September, 1837, 
 and killed; and his wife, Helen Abercromby's 
 sister, fell a victim to an epidemic of scarlet fever, 
 June 11, 1839, leaving three children. I hear, on 
 excellent authority, that the poor lady was, to the 
 last, reluctant to believe in Wainewright's guilt in 
 her sister's case. I hardly know whether it is worth 
 noting, that in Madeleine's yet existing album is an 
 apparently unpublished copy of verses by Charles 
 Lamb, who must have seen her repeatedly in her 
 unmarried days at the Wainewrights. 1 
 
 Mrs. Wainewright, Bulwer's Lucretia, survived 
 for many years. After the death of her sister, 
 and the general catastrophe, she lived with Made- 
 leine at Pimlico till the marriage of the latter in 
 1832. In 1851, on her son Griffiths (the "exile's 
 child") coming of age, and acquiring possession of 
 the trust-estate, (which the Bank was obliged to 
 make good) she went -to reside with him. He had 
 entered the navy very young, and promised to do 
 well: but it seems that, when he became his 
 own master, he grew anxious to escape from the 
 dishonour cast on his name, and migrated to 
 America. I have even been told that he married 
 a woman of some means. He would be, at the 
 present moment, barely fifty. 
 
 1 The verses occupy the first page of this 4to volume, 
 and are called " What is an Album 1 " They bear date 
 September 7, 1830. They were written too late for insertion 
 in the little volume of such trifles published by Moxon in 
 the summer of that year.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 MODEST OFFER OF SERVICE FROM MR. BONMOT 
 
 TO THE 
 
 EDITOR OF THE "LONDON MAGAZINE."* 
 
 Sin, Hearing it whispered that a luminary, in 
 the form of a new magazine, is about to shew itself 
 above our literary horizon, I hereby tender my 
 powers of elevation to bring it, with trump and 
 timbrel-clang and general shout, to the zenith of 
 triumphant popularity. I imagine not, for an 
 instant, that you will misconstrue this overture 
 into a solicitation for employment : no, it is a 
 gracious offer of assistance. Yes, gracious is the 
 epithet, of which you will the better judge, when 
 I shall have rendered you an account of my great 
 qualifications. Without fear of controversy, then, 
 I affirm myself to be Sir Oracle ; I am the im- 
 
 [ ! " London Magazine," January, 1820. Ascribed to 
 Wainwright conjecturally.] 
 
 B
 
 2 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 mortal Passado, the invincible Ah ha, ! fit for 
 every thing, prepared for all accidents: ready to 
 pass from grave to gay, from lively to severe ; to 
 sigh in concert with the woods that wave o'er 
 Delphi's steep ; or laugh with Momus and his 
 train : in a word, Sir, I hereby pronounce myself 
 to be, not one, but all mankind's epitome. 
 
 From mere experiment, therefore, of my poten- 
 cies, your work must derive an infinite advantage ; 
 for, Sir, in addition to what I have said, I would 
 have you know, that it is to me 
 
 no more difficile, 
 
 Than for a blackbird 'tis to whistle, 
 
 to discourse in terms, comprehensible only to the 
 initiate few, about the wits of Elizabeth's reign ; 
 nay, to describe self-evident beauties in Chaucer, 
 Spenser, Milton, and all the poets that have ever 
 lived: dead things with inbreathed sense I am 
 able to pierce, and, by windy suspiration of oracular 
 breath, pour into any reader's mind the genuine 
 characteristics of the great and good of every 
 kindred and nation under heaven. I know how 
 to apply sententious opinions in the mode of 
 modern infallibility. As, for instance, in noticing 
 the poet of the Inferno, I should say there's 
 Dante mingling the bitterness of satire with the 
 gloomy grandeur of his sublime genius : if I would 
 be ringing changes upon other great ones of the 
 olden time, who blazed, the comets of their season, 
 I should talk of the elegant licentiousness of 
 Boccacio ; the delightful varieties of Ariosto ; the
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 3 
 
 tender querulence of laureate Petrarch's erotic 
 conceits; of Tasso's misfortunes, and the har- 
 monious spirit and majesty of his numbers. Then, 
 there's the poetical and linked sweetness, and (as 
 alliteration sometimes tells) the mighty magic of 
 the majestic Michael Angelo : nor would I omit to 
 press into my service the divine grace of Eaphael, 
 the costume-loving precision of N. Poussin, the 
 happy imagination of Camoens, nor the sixty 
 thousand verses of Ferdousi: besides, there's 
 Hafiz, with his such a thing, and, not least in our 
 dear love, **** (whose name I have forgotten), to 
 say nothing of a hundred others, quos nunc per- 
 scribere longum est, with their various so-and-so's 
 all excellent. But sat sapienti : you will see 
 what I mean ; and I need hardly mention the 
 extraordinary faculty I have, as occasion may 
 require, of praising or reviling Voltaire ; admiring 
 the purity, amidst pity for the sensitiveness, of 
 Eacine ; giving way before the passionate force of 
 Corneille ; pitching a steepy flight with Eschylus ; 
 being wildly enthusiastic with Schiller : running 
 mad with Nat Lee ; and, to jump at once to our 
 own days (chronology being nothing to genius, 
 which is not for an age, but for all time), trilling 
 a love-song with the young Catullus of our day ; 
 or playing the devil with Don Juan ! Yet I 
 must needs let you into the secret of my com- 
 petency to emulate, nay to out-Herod those who 
 hold their rushlights to the sun, and spend 
 such quantities of panegyrical breath upon the 
 beauties of the admirable and infinite Shak- 
 B2
 
 4 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 speare. Ohe, jam satis! methinks you exclaim 
 here. It is even so ; and I could detail ten 
 thousand other qualities of fitness ; but I content 
 myself with a word or two as to my style, on 
 which the very ecce sigmim testimony of this 
 letter leaves little occasion to dilate ; yet I must 
 not omit to mention my very peculiar adroitness 
 in all the mechanism of authorship. To me the 
 mysteries of emphatic innuendo are open : the 
 application of apt and eloquent parentheses is as 
 the air I breathe; I know where to shake my 
 head in italics ; utter a MEGA THAUMA in capitals ; 
 and, by the mere force of appropriate collocation, 
 make a word, nay sometimes even a syllable, 
 express a start, or a shrug, or a casting up of eyes, 
 sympathizing with a wonder ; while for a frown, 
 dark as ten furies, terrible as hell, I am your only 
 penman. 
 
 With all this concentration of faculties in 
 myself, I am not less enviable in my friends. All 
 are jewels of the first water, and their aid is at my 
 command for furthering any scheme in which I 
 profess to be interested. Certain comical cousins 
 also form parts of my talented phalanx ; and there 
 is not a hue in all the varied brightness of the 
 Nine, but finds a correspondent ray among those 
 of whom I have most meritoriously been dubbed 
 the Musagetes. 
 
 Your penetration must, from all this, instantly 
 discover the absolute, the ineffable advantage of 
 taking me into your PAY : but the resolution must 
 be made with haste, post-haste speed, for I am
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 5 
 
 noised abroad, and e'er another hour shall have 
 mingled itself with the past eternity, I may be 
 flying on the swift wings of my new reputation, to 
 the north, the east, the south, or west ; for, from 
 all quarters, am 1 receiving momentarily embassies, 
 courting the countenance of my transcendent 
 talents : some imploring a prop for works already 
 born ; others for those whose birth is delayed only 
 until the decisive yet delicate powers of my 
 literary obstetricism may be at hand to produce 
 them to the admiring world in the full perfection 
 of grand and beautiful proportion ! But, Sir, my 
 unwillingness, not to say absolute inability, to 
 desert the city of my adoption, induces me to give 
 you the preference : you may therefore, direct for 
 me at once : not Mister, but Egomet Bonmot, 
 Esquire, London, will find me. 
 
 I have written you at some length, but I will 
 not bid adieu without warning you against 
 imagining that a word has been written without 
 purpose; for not the eloquent shake of Lord 
 Burleigh's head was half so pregnant with meaning 
 as this epistolary specimen of auto-adulation. 
 Indeed, as the Lakiest of bards might say, beneath 
 the plain and simple sincerity of the foregone 
 observations, there lies a moral far too deep for 
 the fathom-lines of uninformed minds ; and it is 
 this single circumstance which bids me recommend 
 its insertion in the pages of a magazine, which will 
 enrol none among its readers by whom such 
 matters of occult significance, however disguised 
 in open simplicity, are not easily appreciated.
 
 6 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 I wish your work good speed ; and for me towis 
 success is to confer it. Your friend, 
 
 E. BONMOT. 
 
 P.S. To distinguish contributions by the signa- 
 ture of my name, will henceforth be useless, except 
 on particular occasions. Suffice it, that in your 
 richest numbers, whatever is wisest, virtuousest, 
 discreetest, best, may safely be attributed to the 
 pen of Bonmot. 
 
 [We believe we owe to Mr. Bonmot's goodness 
 the following pretty poem, with its excellent intro- 
 duction.] 
 
 ANCESTRAL ENORMITIES. 
 
 (Taken, -with liberties, from tlie French./ 
 
 THE French people, it has been lately said by one 
 of their own writers, have much less affection for 
 liberty than for equality. The restless vanity of 
 individuals, running through all classes, has ren- 
 dered varieties of rank quite unpopular in France. 
 Each person feels his neighbour's distinction to 
 be an indignity to himself. Such a sentiment, 
 directed against the degrees of society, is by no 
 means a magnanimous one. The loftiest sense of 
 independence induces a man to recognise implicitly 
 the forms of social distinctions as matters of course, 
 important in a public view, and indifferent in a 
 personal one. Every high mind must be made 
 aware, by its own consciousness, that no essential
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 7 
 
 difference in worth or respectability is denoted by 
 the various styles in which individuals are ad- 
 dressed; but a certain weak impatience is often 
 found pushing people to a childish resistance 
 against these forms ; and this resistance denotes, 
 more than anything else, a feverish sensibility to 
 their import. They who are most anxious to state 
 what little store they set by dukes and lords, are 
 precisely such as would set the most store by their 
 titles, had the accident of birth bestowed them. 
 Such persons, if closely watched, will be generally 
 found, at one time or other, to make awkward 
 allusions to their familiarity with knights, baro- 
 nets, and barons, and to plume themselves on 
 titled friendships. At the same time, in such a 
 country as France, where the Bourgeois classes, 
 until of late years, were really felt to be degraded, 
 attempts to show that worth alone makes the man, 
 were to be considered both useful and spirited. 
 Nor do we know that it can, in any country, be 
 regarded as unfair, to bring to the recollection of 
 the privileged orders, that intellect has nothing ne- 
 cessarily to do with patents of nobility although 
 there are many brilliant examples, living ones and 
 others, proving that such patents, and the highest 
 intellectual honours, may be united. The following 
 verses, however, are to be considered as bearing, in 
 in every way, a foreign character, rather than a 
 British one. 
 
 Three thousand years, if I count right, 
 Have heard the critics Homer cite, 
 (His poem's good 'tis true ;)
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 But what can hide the Poet's shame, 
 No one can tell from whence he came 
 The son of Lord-knows-who ! 
 
 Virgil, who sang of war and farming, 
 His case is nearly as alarming, 
 
 Though Cesar spoke him well : 
 Much did the thoughtless Muse mistake her, 
 Who chose the issue of a baker 
 
 Such wond'rous tales to tell. 
 
 Alas ! who into hist'ry pushes 
 
 Will find perpetual cause for blushes 
 
 There's Athens shocking place ! 
 Demosthenes declaim'd with pith, 
 But he was gotten by a smith, 
 
 To Attica's disgrace. 
 
 I'm really puzzled to proceed ; 
 To write what 'tis n't fit to read 
 
 All decent pens refuse : 
 There's Socrates, so wise and pure, 
 Was born of an old accoucheur, 
 
 I should say accoucheuse. 
 
 So with the ancients let's have done, 
 Who, every man and mother's son, 
 
 Were but of yesterday ; 
 One more that Esop was there ever ! 
 A slave write fables I shall never ! 
 
 'Tis now high time to stay ! 
 
 But with the moderns shall we gain ? 
 Faith, that's a case that's not quite plain ; 
 
 Piron's papa sold drugs ; 
 A mere upholsterer got Moliere, 
 And Rollin was a cutler's heir, 
 
 And What's-his-name made jugs. 
 
 Rousseau (not Jacques, but Jean Baptiste) 
 Whose odes to read are quite a feast 
 His ancestor made shoes ;
 
 ESSAYS AND CELTICISMS. 
 
 And is not Jaques himself as bad, 
 Who took a watchmaker for dad, 
 Our patience to abuse ? 
 
 At home, if curious to know 
 The parent-stocks of So-and-so, 
 
 We'll find the bad turn'd worse ; 
 Milton, for all his epic fire, 
 Claims but a scriv'ner for his sire 
 
 And he to write blank verse ! 
 
 Some folks affirm the proof is full, 
 That Shakspeare senior dealt in wool 
 
 Let's hope it is the case : 
 For, though one scorns in fleece to deal, 
 Were he a butcher * all must feel 
 
 'Twould his poor son disgrace. 
 
 I'm glad to find there is a doubt 
 
 From what trunk Chaucer was a sprout ; 
 
 A noble one some say : 
 But whispers go, that Chaucer's father 
 A vintner was or cobler rather 
 
 Hence his French name Chancier. 
 
 In short, the man of generous mind 
 
 Who views the world, must loathe his kind ; 
 
 Such facts his feelings hurting : 
 The elder Pope, whose boy wrote satires, 
 Kept a cheap warehouse next a hatter's, 
 
 Where he sold Irish shirting ! 
 
 Nought then remains, but hope which still 
 Lurks, as of old, behind each ill, 
 
 Close to the box's bottom : 
 And, after all, the hazard runs, 
 That, though they're all their mothers' sons, 
 
 Their fathers mayn't have got 'em/ 
 
 * Some give it for the wool-merchant, others for the butcher.
 
 10 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 SENTIMENTALITIES ON THE FINE ARTS. 1 
 BY JANUS WEATHERCOCK, ESQ. 
 
 (To be continued when lie is in the Humour. ) 
 
 No. I. 
 
 GOETHE'S FAUSTUS. 
 
 THE Germans have long been giving proofs, that 
 they possess one great requisite for succeeding 
 both in poetry and its sister arts : we mean a very 
 original and powerful fancy : but this same fancy 
 of theirs, like a fiery young steed (we believe this 
 is the approved simile in such a case), requires a 
 great deal of chastising and better training, before 
 it can avail its master much in the tug of war. 
 In painting, they have forced a monstrous and un- 
 natural alliance, between the sublime nonsense of 
 Goltzius, Spranger, John Ab Ach, C. Van Mander, 
 &c., &c., and the dry, Gothic, ludicrous, matter- 
 of-fact work of old Durer. They have done some- 
 thing very like this in their poetry and romances 
 the lovely and loving Undine always excepted. 
 The author of this prose poem has, with an earnest 
 fervour which spreads itself to the reader, rendered 
 the existence of such a being as his heroine, not 
 merely sufficiently probable for the purposes of 
 poetry, but apparently certain in point of fact. 
 Her last words " / am here, and now you must 
 die " whenever we think of them, seem to breathe 
 
 [ a " London Magazine," Feb. 1820.]
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 11 
 
 a chill wind through the marrow of our bones, as 
 they really and truly did through that of her guilty 
 Hulbrand! And yet we envy him his last mo- 
 ments, as they are thus described : " Trembling 
 with love, and the mingled fear of approaching 
 death, he bent towards her. She kissed him with 
 a heavenly kiss, but she loosed him no more from 
 her embrace : she wept as she would weep away 
 her soul. He dropt from her arms a lifeless 
 corse." l 
 
 These observations on the common style of 
 German invention in the art of design, have been 
 suggested by a sight of some large prints, lately 
 imported, after pictures by Cornelius, painted, we 
 believe, for the King of Bavaria. The subjects are 
 taken from Goethe's Faustus. These works are of 
 mingled metal silver and lead ; but unfortunately 
 the lead bears the undue proportion to the other 
 of a hundred to one. At present, however, we 
 have nothing to do with these. Our immediate 
 business is with twenty-six etchings, taken from 
 the same text-book, of which it is saying but little 
 in comparison with their merits, when we assert 
 that no artist in this country (save one who is 
 seated too high in the lofty region of his fancies 
 for any praise of ours to reach him) can do the 
 like. 2 One fault they have, if it be one ; they 
 
 1 " Undine, a Romance, translated from the German by 
 G. Soane, A.B." 
 
 2 And let not therefore our good old Stothard be grieved ; 
 he is the first artist of the age in his way ; but when he 
 works at the stronger passions, it is " invita Minerva." 
 His forte lies in sketching (for his most finished pictures
 
 12 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 are not entirely in unison with the style of the 
 author they profess to illustrate. They are com- 
 posed, nearly throughout, with equal judgment, 
 fire, and taste ; whereas the wild, and, in the teeth 
 of all its incongruities, pathetic tragedy of Goethe 
 nutters doubtingly between the topmost height of 
 sublimity and the bottomless pit of self-satisfied 
 absurdity. 
 
 The accompanying descriptions to this volume 
 of engravings being in German, it may be as well, 
 in giving a list of the plates, to connect them 
 together by a slight narrative, sufficient to show 
 the relation they bear to one another. 
 
 Some of our readers may not be aware, that the 
 Germans have not yet resigned that freedom of 
 manner which may be considered as a proof of 
 innocence or of impudence, according as it is traced 
 to simplicity of heart, or contempt for things which 
 most people consider sacred. In short, they take 
 liberties with attributes, names, and characters, in 
 which it would not be pardonable in us to follow 
 them, because we have in our country got far be- 
 yond the patriarchal stage. They do not hesitate 
 still to introduce the person of the Deity in com- 
 positions of a mixed nature : and No. 1 of this 
 
 are, in point of execution, but sketches) gentle women 
 (witness the lovely females in his designs for the 4to Tele- 
 machus), tranquil old men, portraits of his own mind, and 
 all the softer emotions of private life. His drawings for 
 Stockdale's Robinson Crusoe, 2 vols, 8vo, 1790, engraved 
 by Medland, would do honour to Raffaele both for com- 
 position and subtle penetration into the secret springs of 
 the mind as they act on the outward man.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 13 
 
 series represents a grand levee of the powers of 
 Heaven, held before the throne of the Almighty, at 
 which the rebellious Spirit of Mischief presents 
 himself, according to the precedent furnished by 
 the opening of the poem of Job. The devil is 
 interrogated as to the cause of his appearance ; 
 and it may be sufficient to state, that a dialogue 
 takes place, in which the shining virtues of Faus- 
 tus are cited by his Maker, as proof against the 
 seductions of the tempter, who replies, with proud 
 scorn, that this supposed infallible being has never 
 yet been properly tried. " Let the protecting care 
 of Providence be withdrawn from him, arid, if he 
 be left entirely to me, I flatter myself we shall 
 soon see a change ! " It is ordained that the ex- 
 periment shall be made accordingly; but Satan 
 does not get off without a sarcasm from Gabriel 
 on the failure of a former attempt of this nature 
 on the man of Uz. 
 
 No. 2. Faustus and his friend Wagner are 
 walking in the fields. An odd looking dog com- 
 mences running round them, appropinquating more 
 and more with every circle he describes. 
 
 Wagner. I smell an odd smell hereabouts. 
 
 Faust, (carelessly). Yes it comes from that 
 rough tyke yonder ; what a train of sulphur he 
 leaves in his wake ! 
 
 Wagner sees neither the dog nor the train of 
 sulphur, and concludes that his friend is mad. 
 Faustus, not liking stray phosphoric curs, walks 
 home to his study. 
 
 No. 3. Faustus is engaged amongst his books,
 
 14 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 his mind intent on adding to the already vast 
 stores of his learning. He hears a noise behind 
 his book-case ; challenges the cause of the disturb- 
 ance, and our brimstone dog stalks forth, with his 
 strange physiognomy and uncouth figure. He 
 begins to puff and swell till he becomes as big as 
 an elephant. "What's all this mummery," says 
 the undaunted Faustus ; " go about your business !" 
 The hell-cur replies, that the holy relics over the 
 door hinder him from going out that way ; and it 
 is against his orders to return the way he came. 
 Soft music lulls the Doctor to sleep. When he 
 awakes, the dog is gone ; but a Cavalier, with a 
 strange expression of face, is by his side, and the 
 interview terminates with the unhappy consent of 
 Faustus to sign, in his own blood, a compact with 
 the enemy, induced, by the pride of knowledge, 
 to rely on his own innate power ultimately to 
 baffle and outwit the fiend. 
 
 No. 5. Cavalier Faustus (Doctor now no longer) 
 is introduced by the knight of the cloven foot into 
 a society of jolly topers. This is one of the most 
 felicitous plates of the collection. The attitude of 
 the devil, who is entertaining the company by 
 some juggling tricks, is, as the French say, superb. 
 The obstreperous mirth of the party, however, 
 though aided by the charm of novelty, produces 
 only disgust in the high-minded Faustus. 
 
 No. 6. Presents us with an interior view of a 
 witch's domicile. Crowns and jewels are in vain 
 paraded before the rigid philosopher. There is now 
 evidently but one resource left. In a magic mirror,
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 15 
 
 our hero is made to view his future mistress, 
 Margaret, extended on her bed. Mephistophiles 
 is at once relieved from all his fears : he sees that 
 Faustus is his own ! 
 
 No. 7. Faustus drinks with the witch and the 
 fiend ! The hag, at first, objects, that the strength 
 of the infernal cordial is sufficient to corrode and 
 burn mortal vitals. The devil assures her that her 
 guest is now proof. Faustus, as he lifts the cup, 
 sees a flame pass over the surface : he hesitates, 
 but at last drinks, and then is as one that " knoweth 
 good and evil." 
 
 No. 8. Is the first interview of Margaret and 
 Faustus : she is returning from church when this 
 unlucky meeting takes place. 
 
 No. 9. Interior of Margaret's bedroom. We 
 can joke with the devil, and make a mockery of 
 sulphurous dogs ; but we must not profane female 
 beauty and innocence. Margaret is undressing : 
 preparing for rest by unrolling her fine hair. Her 
 bed stands in the corner, curtained, and clean ; the 
 temple of purity and repose. 
 
 No. 10. Faustus, having gained admission into 
 her chamber, by the contrivance of the devil, sits, 
 in one of the finest attitudes ever invented, con- 
 templating his sleeping mistress. Mephistophiles 
 enters with a casket, and, having warned Faustus 
 that he snuffs the chill air of morn, deposits the 
 jewels on the dressing table, and forces the now 
 more deeply enamoured lover away. 
 
 No. 11. Margaret rises early; the jewels fill 
 her with doubts and misgivings, but, dazzled by
 
 16 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 their brilliance, she determines to conceal them 
 from her mother, and only to consult her neighbour 
 Martha (a very convenient old lady, as it turns 
 out), whom we find in 
 
 No. 12. Fastening the bracelets on Margaret's 
 delicate wrist, and paying her compliments on her 
 own and their excessive beauty. During this 
 time the devil enters, and is seen in 
 
 No. 13. Insidiously wheedling Martha, for the 
 purpose of bringing about, through her means, 
 that which actually takes place. 
 
 No. 14. The unrivalled flirtation of one couple, 
 and the delicious tenderness of the other, speak 
 for themselves. 
 
 The same may be said of No. 15. 
 
 No. 16. The unhappy girl mourns the conse- 
 quence of her easy compliance with swollen eyes. 
 Tears gushing at every fresh remembrance, she 
 leans lifelessly over her wheel, murmuring a low, 
 melancholy song. 
 
 No. 17. The wretched creature, deserted, as 
 she thinks, by her adored Faustus, flings herself 
 before the image of her patron saint, in an agony 
 of penitence ; but in vain : her thoughts will not 
 rise from earth and her lover. 
 
 No. 18. She enters a church during mass, and, 
 kneeling amid the crowd, once more endeavours to 
 bow down her heart before her God ; but an Evil 
 One is seen crouching close behind her ! He brands 
 on the mind of this young, and lately innocent, 
 creature the burning image of her guilt, and of 
 eternal damnation. Eeader ! cast thine eyes on
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 17 
 
 the right of the print ! look at the poor fainting, 
 despairing girl ! with cold, clayey, tight-clasped 
 hands, blank eyes, half covered with their dewy 
 lids, lost to outward objects, turned inwards on her 
 soul, and conscious but to the horrible chaos there ! 
 Contemplate this exquisite but fallen creature, and 
 then admire what art can do, when it only seeks 
 to convey the power of nature. 
 
 No. 19. The runaway announces his return to 
 his mistress, by a serenade, which he performs in 
 company with his mysterious friend. A young 
 stranger, in a military habit, approaches, and fiercely 
 demands what is their business under that lady's 
 casement ? High words blow hot passions into a 
 flame, and three swords are quickly glancing in 
 the cold moonlight. " Push confidently," says 
 Mephistophiles to Faustus, " I will ward ! " "Ward 
 that ! " thunders their antagonist ; " 'tis done," is 
 the reply, as the soldier's weapon slides off the 
 blade of the Demon cavalier. " Parry this, then ! " 
 (flinging a furious thrust at the face of his 
 treacherous opponent) " Why not ? " says the 
 devil ; at the same instant the rapier of Faustus 
 appears under the shoulder-blade of their victim, 
 and he falls stricken with death, while smoking 
 blood pours from the double wound. The grating 
 of the swords has awakened the neighbours. The 
 murderers escape : " Lights ! lights ! " Bolts rattle 
 from within every door ; old and young burst out ; 
 Margaret among the rest. She hears groans ; 
 pierces the buzzing circle and sees panting forth
 
 18 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 his last, unequal, thick accents, before his own 
 loved home, her brother ! " 
 
 Nos. 21, and 22. Mephistophiles in order to 
 drown the excessive grief of Faustus at his separa- 
 tion from his love, as well as to shield him from 
 the hands of justice, takes him to a witches' gala, 
 held on the black summit of the Block-berg. In 
 21 we see the Doctor, staff in hand, straining up 
 the bare rocks, encouraged by "Dan Sathanus," 
 and lighted by an inimitable " Will o' the wisp." 
 In the background, the company are discovered 
 hastening away with all possible expedition, ac- 
 cording to their respective means, to the fete. 
 We must observe here that our hero seems the 
 worst accommodated of the whole party in respect 
 of a conveyance. In 22, the whole scene of ini- 
 quitous joviality bursts on our astonished eyes. 
 A great deal of amusement seems going on, 
 " pleasant but wrong." Waltzing commences, and 
 the "knight of the horse's leg," in vain urges 
 Faustus to select a partner. While endeavouring 
 to overcome his objections to a lady dropping a 
 little fire and a few toads from her rosy lips, 
 the shape of Margaret appears, pale, faded, and 
 with dishevelled hair. Her altered looks, strike 
 the guilty Faustus with horror; his love burns 
 more furiously than ever, and he compels the un- 
 willing devil to disclose all that had passed at the 
 city during his absence. 
 
 Bowed to the very dust by the loss of her 
 affectionate and gallant son, and the disgrace of 
 her fondly cherished daughter (for Margaret is dis-
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 19 
 
 covered to be pregnant), the aged mother falls into 
 an incurable illness. A sleeping dose, which Mar- 
 garet administers to her, by the advice of the devil, 
 takes too strong an effect : the old lady never 
 wakes again. The agony occasioned by this fresh 
 loss brings on the pangs of labour. In a fit of 
 madness Margaret destroys her child ! The body 
 of her mother exhibits the appearance of poison. 
 Suspicion falls upon her. Old Martha betrays the 
 circumstance of her having been pregnant : she is 
 accused of the double murder. In fine, she is 
 laden with chains hurried away raving mad to a 
 dungeon tried, condemned, and sentenced to be 
 executed on the morrow ! The blood of Faustus 
 runs a stream of fire during this horrid story. 
 He heaps on the devil (who receives all his re- 
 proaches with a heart-freezing grin) the deepest 
 and wildest curses ; and at last commands him on 
 his bond, to convey him to the wretched, deserted 
 creature that very night. The fiend obeys ! 
 They mount two hell-horses, whose snorting fury 
 devours the way before them, in their wild and 
 flaming course. Unearthly sights whirl past them 
 unheeded : the goal is won ; they arrive at the 
 city! The breath of Mephistophiles throws the 
 guards into a supernatural sleep. Griped in the 
 hand of Faustus, the keys rattle in the door of 
 Margaret's dungeon. The lock gives way : he 
 bursts in. Chained to the floor, grovelling in 
 noisome damp straw, lies the late queen of his 
 high fancies ! The light in his hand rouses her : 
 She knows him: and now a dreadful scene of 
 c2
 
 20 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 mental agony takes place : however, she refuses 
 to escape with him, and determines to abide the 
 death. 
 
 A hoarse well-known voice calls without, " Off! 
 off! the morning breaks!" Furious with disap- 
 pointment, Faustus attempts to force her away. 
 Suddenly her form stiffens her eye-balls turn up- 
 ward the arms of her lover fall numbed from her 
 waist. To her, and to her only, the dungeon ap- 
 pears to open : the heaven of heavens rolls above 
 her dizzy sight: a loud, but thrilling solemn 
 choral hymn sails away on the air the golden 
 trumpet rings out its blast An awful voice is 
 heard " SHE is TKIED ! " A dreadful silence 
 follows A sweet voice then issues forth : " SHE 
 is PAKDONED ! " The choral hymn again swells 
 like triumphant thunder: A wild-tossing sea of 
 clouds, like an immense curtain, stretching from 
 earth to heaven, intervenes, and conceals the whole 
 from sight. The saved creature stands, still bound 
 in that beatific trance. 
 
 " Thou foolish woman," Faustus begins " Come, 
 come, OUT horses stamp" breaks from the impatient 
 devil in a dreadful tone ! and, putting in an iron 
 arm, he wrenches away the miserable Faustus. 
 The curtain drops. 
 
 If after the above (in our eyes at least) senti- 
 mental and pathetic description, there be found any 
 amateurs in London, so blind to their own good, 
 as not to put 12s. Qd. in their purses, and march
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 21 
 
 right to the shop of Mr. Boht^, Foreign Bookseller, 
 York Street, Covent-Garden, for the purpose of 
 enriching themselves with a copy of Eetchs's Out- 
 lines to Faustus, we shall look on them as Perditi, 
 abandoned to a pernicious passion for pocketing 
 paltry pelf, blind to the lustre of beauty, and deaf 
 to the charm of eloquence. 
 
 [MR. BONMOT'S VISIT TO THE EDITOR OF 
 THE "LONDON MAGAZINE." 1 
 
 IT strikes us that simply detailing the circum- 
 stances of our friend's visit will answer all the 
 purpose, this month, of Notices to Correspondents. 
 We were musing very seriously the other even- 
 ing on the duties of our office and its various 
 trials. Before us lay a pile of papers, to which 
 our regards were fascinated, it having a power over 
 us similar to that of the rattlesnake over its prey. 
 Contributions, Eemonstrances, and Compliments 
 formed the mighty mass : contributions too poor 
 for insertion, and too good for rejection ; remon- 
 strances meeting the compliments full in the teeth, 
 on the same point, and thus dashing themselves to 
 pieces, and wounding us with the splinters of both. 
 One writer accuses us of a want of spirit ; and 
 another says we have the spirit of a fiend, as 
 witness our last article on Kean. We have been 
 
 1 " London Magazine," March, 1820.
 
 22 ESSAYS AND CK1TICISMS. 
 
 severely handled for presuming to think that per- 
 sonal figure enters for something among the quali- 
 fications of an actor ; and above a hundred 
 " Sprigs of Shdalah" as they all sign themselves, 
 write us unpaid letters to demand satisfaction for 
 personal insults, offered to each in hinting that 
 Miss O'Neill owed but little of the excellence of 
 her acting to her beauty ! " Orthodoxy is my 
 doxy, and heterodoxy is your doxy," said Swift ; 
 and very possibly not even Editors may be exempt 
 from the general delusion. The Booksellers are 
 our only comfortable correspondents : they send 
 us orders without troubling us with arguments ; 
 and, until they neglect us, we shall continue to 
 think ourselves right in the main. 
 
 Such was the strain of our Editorial cogitations, 
 when hark ! a rap came to the door, (not a gentle 
 one), and our worthy friend Bonmot entered. 
 He came to tell us, he said, that, among his nu- 
 merous acquaintances, some liked our second 
 number better than our first, and several our 
 first number better than our second. The second, 
 some said, was more like what a Magazine was 
 expected to be ; and the first, it was observed by 
 several, came nearest to what a Magazine ought to 
 be. He earnestly hoped that we should know how 
 to profit by the advice and assistance of friends : 
 to which we instantly replied, with characteristic 
 modesty, that WE HOPED WE SHOULD.]
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 23 
 
 SENTIMENTALITIES ON THE FINE ARTS. 1 
 BY JANUS WEATHERCOCK, ESQ. 
 
 (To be continued when he is in the Humour.) 
 
 No. II. 
 
 Tout autour oiseau la voletoient, 
 Et si tres-doulcement chantoient, 
 
 Qu'il n'est cueur qui n'en fust ioyeulx, 
 Et en chantant en 1'air montoient, 
 Et puis 1'un 1'autre surmontoient 
 
 A 1'estivee a qui mieulx mieulx. 
 Le temps n'estoit mie mieulx. 
 De bleu estoient vestuz les cieux, 
 
 Et le beau Soleil cler luisoit. 
 Violettes croissoient par lieux 
 Et tout faisoit ses devoirs tieux 
 
 Comme nature le duisoit. 
 
 Alain Chartier, Livre des quatre Dames. 
 
 Through the trees the Sunne shone 
 
 Upon the grass, with bright bemes 
 
 With many glad glidy streames, 
 
 And eke the welkin was so faire, 
 
 Blue, bright, and clere was the aire, 
 
 And full attempered, sooth it was 
 
 Neyther too cold, ne hot it was : 
 
 Ne' in all the welkin was no cloud. Chaucer. 
 
 JANUS, as you may remember, Mister Editor, 
 before agreeing to become a Contributor, made a 
 bargain with you that he should be allowed to be 
 as profound or as flighty, as serious or as comical, 
 as personal or as impersonal, as general or as par- 
 
 1 London Magazine, March, 1820.
 
 24 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 ticular, as he pleased. You made some difficulty 
 about it ; but, on his saying that he would answer 
 for his own discretion, and offering to produce an 
 extract from the Kegister of his parish to prove 
 that he had arrived at the years of that quality, you 
 consented, or rather conceded, with a shake of your 
 head, which seemed intended to exonerate you 
 from the consequences of the measure. Phoebus, 
 probably, did the same thing when Phaeton took 
 the reins out of his hands. If your publishers 
 find Janus doing mischief, they must act the 
 part of Jupiter, launch a thunderbolt at his head 
 by the two-penny post, (you know his address), 
 and tumble him from his car ! In the mean time, 
 it is his intention to gallop on, in his own wild, 
 but, he natters himself, smart cavalier-like fashion. 
 I (Janus) had made a tolerable dinner the other 
 day at George's, and, with my mind full of my 
 last article, was holding up a petit verre d'eau de vie 
 de Dantzic to the waxen candle ; watching with 
 scient eye the number of aureate particles some 
 swimming, some sinking quiveringly, through the 
 oily and luscious liquor, as if informed with life 
 and gleaming, like golden fish in the Whang-ho, 
 or Yellow-river (which, by the way, is only yellow 
 from its mud) : so was I employed, when sud- 
 denly I heard the day of the month (the 15th), 
 ejaculated in the next box. This at once brought 
 me back from my delicious reverie to a sense of 
 duty. " Contributions must be forwarded by the 
 18th at the very latest" were the Editor's last words 
 to Janus, and he is incapable of forgetting them.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 25 
 
 I felt my vigorous personal identity instantly an- 
 nihilated, and resolved by some mystic process 
 into a part of that unimaginable plurality in unity, 
 wherewithal Editors, Reviewers, and, at present 
 pretty commonly Authors, clothe themselves, 
 when, seated on the topmost tip of their top-gallant 
 masts, they pour forth their oracular dicta on the 
 groaning ocean of London spread out huge at their 
 feet. Forthwith WE (Janus) sneaked home alone 
 poked in the top of our hollow fire, which 
 spouted out a myriad of flames, roaring pleasantly, 
 as, chasing one another, they rapidly escaped up 
 the chimney, exchanged our smart, tight-waisted, 
 stiff-collared coat, for an easy chintz gown, with 
 pink ribbonds lighted our new elegantly-gilt 
 French lamp, having a ground-glass-globe painted 
 with gay flowers and gaudy butterflies, hauled 
 forth Portfolio, No. 9, and established ourselves 
 cosily on a Grecian couch ! Then we (Janus) 
 stroked our favourite tortoiseshell cat into a full 
 and sonorous purr ; and, after that our muse, or 
 maid-servant, a goodnatured Venetian-shaped girl, 
 (having first placed on the table a genuine flask of 
 as rich Montepulciano l as ever voyaged from fair 
 
 F 1 A Florentine wine, I believe, of rather sweet flavour. 
 It is sometimes known as the Vino d'Este, from the ancient 
 and noble family of that name. But, according to the story 
 of the old Dutchman, who once tasted it, but afterwards, 
 forgetting the exact name, went in search of it, testing every 
 wine he met with, and exclaiming Non est, till he came 
 to his former favourite, when he cried out in huge glee, 
 Est, Est ! this liquor, patronized by Mr. Weathercock, ac- 
 quired its other appellation in a more romantic manner.
 
 26 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Italia) had gently, but firmly, closed the door, care- 
 fully rendered air-tight by a gilt-leather binding, 
 (it is quite right to be particular) we indulged our- 
 selves in a complacent consideration of the rather 
 elegant figure we made, as seen in a large glass 
 placed opposite our chimney mirror, without, 
 however, moving any limb, except the left arm, 
 which instinctively filled out a full cut glass of 
 the liquor before us, while the right rested inac- 
 tively on the head of puss ! 
 
 It was a sight that turned all our gall into 
 blood ! Fancy, comfortable reader ! Imprimis, 
 A very good-sized room. Item. A gay Brussel's 
 carpet, covered with garlands of flowers. Item. 
 A fine original cast of the Venus de Medicis. 
 Item. Some choice volumes in still more choice 
 old French maroquin, with water -tabby -silk 
 linings! Item. Some more vols. coated by the 
 skill of Roger Payne and " our Charles Lewis ! " x 
 Item. A piano, by Tomkisson. Item. A Da- 
 mascus sabre. Item. One cat. Item. A large 
 Newfoundland dog, friendly to the cat. Item. A 
 few hot-house plants on a white-marble slab. 
 Item. A delicious, melting love-painting, by 
 Fuseli : and last, not least in our dear love, we, 
 
 Montepulciano is noticed in Redi's Praise of Wines " para- 
 phrased by Leigh Hunt, in his Bacchus in Tuscany ": 
 
 " Lachrymse Christi, clearly divine, 
 And Montepulciano, King of all wine."] 
 
 f 1 Mr. Thornbury, with his customary ignorance, converts 
 this into " Rogers, Payne, and Charles Lewis."]
 
 .ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 27 
 
 myself, Janus ! Each, and the whole, seen by the 
 Correggio kind of light, breathed, as it were, 
 
 through the painted glass of the lamp ! ! ! 
 
 Soothed into that amiable sort of self-satisfaction, 
 so necessary to the bodying out those deliciously- 
 voluptuous ideas perfumed with languor, which 
 occasionally swim and undulate, like gauzy clouds, 
 over the brain of the most cold-blooded men, we 
 put forth our hand to the folio, which leant against 
 a chair by the sofa's side, and, at hap-hazard, 
 extracted thence 
 
 LANCRET'S CHARMING " EEPAS ITALIEN." T. P. 
 le Bas, Sculp. 
 
 A Summer party in the greenwood shade, 
 With lutes prepared, and cloth on herbage laid, 
 And Ladies' laughter coming through the air. 
 
 L. Hunt's " Rimini." 
 
 This completed the charm. We immersed a 
 well-seasoned prime pen into our silver inkstand 
 three times, shaking off the loose ink again linger- 
 ingly, while, holding the print fast in our left hand, 
 we perused it with half-shut eyes, dallying awhile 
 with our delight. 
 
 Fast and faster came the tingling impetus, and, 
 this running like quicksilver from our sensorium 
 to our pen, we gave the latter one conclusive 
 dip, after which we rapidly dashed off the fol- 
 lowing description " couleur de rose." 
 
 Under the green-wood tree, 
 Who loves to lie with me, 
 And tunes his merry note,
 
 28 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Unto the sweet bird's throat, 
 Come hither, come hither, come hither : 
 Here shall he see 
 
 no enemies, but airy sweet- voiced women ; quick 
 to wound and quick to heal, gently crushing out 
 the odours of the hyacinths and violets, as they 
 bound over the elastic grass, to the varied divisions 
 of the guitar and mandolin ! Nor are there want- 
 ing baskets of rush-bound flasks of Tuscany, spark- 
 ling like rubies with an amethyst bloom ! Such is 
 the invitation to this gay, green " closset of leaves," 
 and some half dozen silken cavaliers have obeyed 
 the summons. The increasing heat of the day, 
 shown by warm white heaps of fleecy clouds, has 
 thrown into the ladies' faces a captivating languor, 
 more dangerous to their " servants" and therefore 
 to themselves, than the cool-cheeked, clear, quick- 
 eyed briskness of the fresh morning. 
 
 About the middle of the picture, seated under a 
 mossy-rooted elm, a giovanni, of a truly Italian 
 cast of features, is, with an open-eyed earnestness, 
 pressing another ice-cooled bumper of Vino schelto 
 upon the nymph beside him, whose full undeiiip, 
 slightly dropped, seems to say irresolutely, " Oh 
 no ! not another I am quite afraid. I am indeed." 
 And well may she be so, for there is that, in the 
 delicately-cut nostril and the acutely-sensitive 
 projection of her slightly turned-up nose, which 
 tell us, that in her " the Paphian Boy " has no 
 need of assistance from "grape-abounding-Bacchus." 
 A dark-haired girl, " amorous of mischief," curled 
 on the daisy-powdered grass, leans on the round 
 knee of her puzzled friend, her Parmegiano hand
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 29 
 
 shining white in the sun, while, with chin turned 
 up, and away from the spectators, she archly 
 watches the struggle. The next thing, worthy of 
 record, is a rustic marble table, covered with a 
 clean cloth, French bread, baskets filled with heavy 
 globes of grapes, china dishes of sweetmeats, flagons 
 of the aforesaid Tuscany, and long-stemmed full- 
 bodied glasses to drink it out of. Behind this table 
 we have another conflict. A Gallant 
 
 With lockes crull, as they were laide in presse. 
 
 Canterbury Tales. 
 
 And smallish in the girdlestede, 
 
 Romant of the Rose. 
 
 appears, at the first sight, to be putting Hamlet's 
 question to a slender-jointed, bright-skinned little 
 coquette. Between, and in the cold shade of two 
 elms, is suspended a swing, containing a pearly girl, 
 whirled into full career by the strenuous exertions 
 of two lovers, one of whom bears, in his free atti- 
 tude and dress, the characteristics of a soldier. A 
 wicked gipsy beneath her lolls on a bank of green- 
 springing grass, half hidden by a large rose-bush. 
 There are other groups scattered about, all enjoy- 
 ing themselves in ways becoming the place and 
 party, quite as much as those we have particularly 
 described. But these we do not choose to intrude 
 upon : we shall therefore say a very few words 
 on the landscape, and then, offering a few critical 
 remarks on the whole, conclude this our second 
 Sentimentality. 
 
 The happy set have chosen their spot uncom- 
 monly well They are completely embowered in a
 
 30 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 natural saloon, composed of sturdy thick- leaved 
 elms, and slender acacias waving their feathery 
 transparent tops in a gently-gliding air, just suf- 
 ficiently strong to bend their young, yellow-green 
 shoots. In one corner runs a clear, cold stream, 
 paved with gravel and silver sand, and full of 
 shining pebbles, flinging a hundred hues against 
 the dancing sunbeams; while violets trail their 
 leafy nets over the thick, soft dark-green grass on 
 the edges. 
 
 (There are a hundred such delightful nooks 
 about Box-Hill, within a quarter of an hour's 
 walk from the little inn at its foot perfect 
 terrce incognitos, to the cockney visitors, who would 
 think themselves utterly lost if they attempted to 
 penetrate any of these apparently inextricably-tan- 
 gled bosquets.} 
 
 The entrance to this luxurious recess is through 
 a short, narrow, arcade of mulberry trees, meeting 
 at the top ; terminated by the two elms composing 
 the pillars of the swing. Looking through the 
 opening, we lose the little path behind the angle 
 of a hedge-row, after it has made a few zig-zags ; 
 and the prospect is closed by some clumps of trees, 
 with a range of light-blue hills peeping over their 
 tops. We are absolutely intoxicated with the bare 
 idea of this warm net ; and feel how truly sooth- 
 ing it is, even in imagination, to escape from our 
 gray and watery sky without doors to any such 
 " sunny spot of greenery " as the present. 
 
 A land of trees, which reaching round about, 
 In shady blessing stretched their old arms out :
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 31 
 
 With spots of sunny opening, and with nooks, 
 To lie and read in, sloping into brooks. 
 
 ****** 
 And all about, the birds kept leafy house, 
 And sung, and sparkled in and out the boughs, 
 And all above, a lovely sky of blue 
 Clearly was felt, or down the leaves laughed through ; 
 
 ****** 
 
 Places of nestling green, for poets made, 
 Where, when the sunshine struck a yellow shade, 
 The slender trunks, to inward peeping sight, 
 Throng'd in dark pillars up the gold green light. 
 
 Rimini, p. 67. 
 
 It was at first our intention to favour our readers 
 with a few technical criticisms concerning impasto, 
 scumbling, and glazing, &c. &c. for which we are 
 eminently qualified (for be it known with all due 
 reverence, we possess the " art pratique" as well 
 as " theoretique" of painting ) ; but our head now 
 absolutely turns at the very thought of plunging 
 into a bath of drying oil and turpentine, after the 
 crystal well just mentioned : so that, begging 
 leave to assure all Dilletanti and Cognoscenti, that 
 the chiaroscuro is well conducted, the different 
 substances well discriminated, and that the swing- 
 ing girl comes in a tender demi-tint against the 
 sky, with warm reflexes, we shall bid our patient 
 reader, or readers, a very good night: and high 
 time it is, for the oil in the lamp is nearly exhausted, 
 and the wine, in the flask, quite, 
 
 Thine, Dear Eeader, 
 
 And Your's, Mr. Editor, 
 
 JANUS WEATHERCOCK.
 
 32 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 P.S. No. 1. We quite forgot a fop in the corner, 
 with a satin cloak dragging on the ground ; his 
 back turned upon two fair Mischiefs, and thinking 
 of nothing in the world but tuning his guitar ; to 
 support which, while he tightens a string with one 
 hand and tries it with the other, he has planted 
 his coxcombical foot, in a truly alarming way, on 
 the edge of the full wine basket, which actually 
 tilts up under the weight ! ! How can people be 
 so inattentive ! ! One of the neglected Damosels 
 seems to entertain for him and his works a spirited 
 and proper contempt. 
 
 KB. We beseech our readers not to run mad 
 after M. Lancret's works at large. He is, in 
 general, but a feeble imitator of the charming 
 Watteau's manner, with as little of his substance 
 as can be well imagined. The " Eepas Italien," is 
 a miraculous exception. 
 
 P.S. No. 2. Eubens has painted several pictures 
 of these sort of subjects. One of them is the famous 
 "Garden of love," known by the splendid and 
 somewhat scarce print by Bolswert. 
 
 It is wonderfully rich in stiff rose-coloured 
 satins, marble porticoes, " with ivy and the gadding 
 vine o'ergrown," brazen fountains, sparkling jewels, 
 whirring " foules small," laces, little dogs, velvet 
 hats, flowers, and feathers. But it wants gout. 
 The Flemish fair have an utter incapacity of feeling 
 that tingling sense of delicate pleasure, so racily 
 extended by the Frenchman over his thin-skinned 
 Italian Brunettes. 
 
 Our favourite Stothard " et tu, Brute ! " has 
 treated us with two or three crudely-coloured
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 33 
 
 things, which he means to be gay, and to that 
 end he has done his utmost with his raw patent 
 yellows, Antwerp blues, cold purples, violent rose- 
 pinks, and verdigrease greens. But it won't do. 
 Mr. Marshall, of Aldermary Churchyard, beats 
 him hollow with respect to fine colours, after all. 
 There is not a grain of vivacity in one of his 
 figures, at least of Italian vivacity. They are 
 only good little English boys and girls in mas- 
 querade. Indeed, latterly Stothard never conde- 
 scends to make out a set of features at all. The 
 only spirit his figures have, lies entirely in their 
 attitudes, which have really a good deal of nature, 
 (we are only speaking of his imitations of 
 Watteau, in more homely subjects he is unrivalled) 
 that is, they are elegant portraitures of flaxen- 
 headed boys and girls, uninitiated in the mysteries 
 of fashionable boarding-schools. And, truly, the 
 sight of their innocent recreations is very touching 
 to an amiable mind, and would be so to us, were 
 they so intended ; but, unfortunately, Mr. Stothard 
 fancies, that, in their " simple cheeks sincere," he 
 has embodied the souls of the " noble and amorous 
 dames" in Boccacio, or the Queen of Navarre's 
 licentious " Heptameron ! " Taken in that point 
 of view, they present nothing but the lamentable 
 spectacle of mawkish do-me-good insipidity. 
 
 The fact is, that Stothard has not the slightest 
 knowledge of the manners of what are called the 
 higher classes, or any power of seizing those grand 
 characteristic national traits, by which the inhabi- 
 tants of the south are so vitally distinguished from 
 those of the north.
 
 34 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 SENTIMENTALITIES ON THE FINE ARTS ; l 
 BY JANUS WEATHERCOCK, ESQ. 
 
 (To be continued wfien lie is in the Humour J 
 
 No. III. 
 
 [And now a thousand sorts of painted birds began to 
 chirp in the trees, and, in their different delightfull tones, it 
 seemed they bad good morrow, and saluted the fresh Aurora, 
 that now discouered the beauty of her face, thorow the gates 
 and bay-windowes of the east, shaking from her lockes an 
 infinite number of liquid pearles, bathing their hearbes in 
 her sweet liquor, that it seemed they also sprouted, and 
 rained white and small pearles ; the willowes did distill their 
 sauoury manna, the fountaines laughed, the brookes mur- 
 mured, the woods were cheered, and the fields were en- 
 riched with her coming. Shelton's Don Quixote, Part the 
 Second, p. 85. 4to. London. 1620. 
 
 And with these words he inserted a thousand other 
 impertinences, all after the very same manner. Ibid. Part 
 the First, p. 10.] 
 
 " WHAT is it to be about this month ! " said I to 
 myself, mending my pen for the twentieth time, 
 and then twisting it pettishly round and round in 
 the tangling cotton of my ink. " I have been look- 
 ing over, or overlooking, twenty or thirty folios, 
 more or less, for the last ten minutes, and I might 
 as well have been reading election speeches all 
 the while : not a single pleasant subject presents 
 itself!" 
 
 My irritable skin began to tingle dreadfully at 
 
 [ x " London Magazine," April, 1820.]
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 35 
 
 the thought of so much valuable time wasted. I 
 looked up imploringly at a large bronze and 
 laurelled bust of Apollo, which stood high over 
 the folding doors of the library in which I was 
 sitting; and methought the god loured frowningly! 
 It was much like the look with which, at the 
 moment of his judgment, he regarded the worthy 
 Midas. At this instant a slight twittering called 
 my attention to the window ; I had forgotten to 
 give my pet Eobin (a fine, fat, saucy fellow) his 
 breakfast of crumbs. With great alacrity we rose, 
 laid aside our misused pen, procured a bit of soft 
 bread, and sallied forth upon the broad lawn 
 (N.B. We were in the country.) Our scarlet- 
 breasted pensioner hopped fearlessly after the 
 gentle Janus, along the smooth-rolled gravel walk, 
 cocking his pert head on one side, and fixing his 
 diamond, black eye earnestly on 
 
 His daily dole which erst the MAN supplied, 
 Now all too long denied. 
 
 Somewhere in Southey. 
 
 The sun shone out, warm .and broadly the 
 crackling Holly hedges glittered in the laughing- 
 shower of splendour, like a line of cuirassiers with 
 their polished breastplates. The crocus just began 
 to push forward its orange top into light, from 
 its close green shell the snowdrop bent down 
 modestly its elegant and lady-like head, away 
 from my rude, amorous gaze the polyanthus 
 glowed in its cold bed of earth, like a solitary 
 picture of Giorgione, on the dark oaken panels 
 D2
 
 36 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 of an ancient, dreary, Gothic gallery while the 
 fragile lilacs began softly to spread forth their 
 limber shoots. The short, tender grass, 
 
 glowing, 
 
 Just as from a gentle mowing, 
 Asking a fair foot to press 
 On its springy mossiness, 
 
 was covered with marguerites, "such that men 
 callen daisies in our town," thick as the stars on a 
 summer's night; and, as I slowly advanced, a 
 thousand dewdrops, almost imperceptible on close 
 inspection, threw up their dazzling long rays 
 against my eyes, changing their colours, and 
 twinkling in and out, like fiery diamond-sparks 
 set round an eastern emerald. Bobby had now 
 finished his innocent meal, and strongly and 
 clearly sung forth his gratitude from the inside of 
 a large isolated thorn (a great favourite of his) 
 which was just commencing to throw off its garb 
 of brown. The harsh caw of the busy rooks came 
 pleasantly mellowed from a high, dusky grove of 
 elms, at some distance off; and, at intervals, was 
 heard the voice of a boy scaring away the birds 
 from the newly-sown seeds. The blue depths 
 were the colour of the darkest ultramarine ; not a 
 cloud streaked the calm aether; only, round the 
 horizon's edge, streamed a light, warm, film of misty 
 vapour, against which the near village, with its 
 ancient stone church, shewed sharply out with 
 blinding whiteness. I thought of Wordsworth's 
 " Lines written in March"
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 37 
 
 " The cock is crowing, 
 
 The stream is flowing, 
 
 The small birds twitter, 
 
 The lake doth glitter, 
 The green field sleeps in the sun ; 
 
 The oldest and youngest 
 Are at work with the strongest ; 
 
 The cattle are grazing, 
 
 Their heads never raising, 
 There are forty feeding- like one ! 
 
 Like an army defeated 
 
 The snow hath retreated, 
 
 And now doth fare ill 
 
 On the top of the bare hill ; 
 The plough-boy is whooping anon anon : 
 
 There's joy in the mountains ; 
 
 There's life in the fountains ; 
 
 Small clouds are sailing, 
 
 Blue sky prevailing ; 
 The rain is over and gone ! " 
 
 It was indeed a glorious day ! All things seemed 
 to feel rejoicingly the first approach of Spring ; 
 
 There was a blessing in the air, 
 Which seemed a sense of joy to yield 
 To the bare trees and mountains bare, 
 And grass in the green field. 
 
 My dog rolled, with awkward joy, upon the sweet 
 smelling turf : the birds dotted unseen, with light 
 rustle, about the thick clumps of evergreens ; or, 
 with quick angular motion, visibly darted from 
 bough to bough of the yet bare fruit trees. My 
 spirit danced with the dancing breeze, 
 
 every common sight to me did seem 
 
 Apparelled in celestial light.
 
 38 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 From the high ground on which I stood, I could 
 see the sheep lying about the fields, like the huge 
 white stones fallen from a mouldering ruin, bask- 
 ing with calm delight in " fiery Titan's persant 
 beames." I felt a sharp longing to be with them. 
 "We cannot write to day," said I ; for though 
 On Bookes for to rede I me delite 
 ****** 
 
 So hertily, that there is game none, 
 That fro my bookds maketh me to gone, 
 
 * * * * * * 
 
 Yet certain when I hear the foulds sing, 
 And that the floures ginnen for to spring 
 Farewel my boke ! 
 
 (We will not conclude with the old bard, " and my 
 devotion" for, at such times, ours pours upon us 
 with a gush " as strong as a mountain river.") So, 
 whistling the dog, we turned quickly towards the 
 house, resolving to take hat, gloves, and cane, and 
 to fetch a magnanimous walk. 
 
 As I approached the stone steps, / was aware 
 (as the old romances have it) of coming feet over 
 the slippery oil-cloth ; and, issuing from the glass 
 door, was seen the long-desired face of my respected 
 friend Hyppolito. 1 About half a dozen hearty 
 handshakings, exciting concussions all over our 
 respective bodies sufficient to have ruptured the 
 stays of a dozen dandies, being performed, we re- 
 
 1 See Dibdin's Bibliographical Decameron, although 
 really one ought to beg pardon for quoting so priggish a 
 performance.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 39 
 
 entered the library ; where, finding my visitor had 
 journeyed twelve miles on foot since a very early 
 breakfast, I proposed to him to take something, as 
 it is emphatically called. His assent being given in 
 a remarkably sweet and ready manner, I forthwith 
 caused the contents of the larder to be paraded 
 upon a stout table by the side of a roaring fire, in 
 due form ; and, in the twinkling of a lady's eye, a 
 pair of knives and forks were imbrued up to the 
 hilts in the partridge-flavoured gravy of a vast veal 
 and ham pye, baked in an unfathomable red dish (a 
 whimsey of ours) guarded on the one side by a 
 peck loaf home-baked, on the other by a fine ripe 
 Stilton, and the whole amiably harmonized by a 
 running accompaniment of home-brewed ale, 
 pale, amber-coloured, foaming, contained in a 
 capacious brown stone-jug, silver tipped. Soon 
 was the fair smug face of the luncheon-tray 
 changed the lily, lavender-smelling cloth was 
 covered with splinters of the Pate's stout outworks 
 upper and under crusts were cut sheer away 
 from their parent loaf by the "griding" blade 
 quicksands of salt, and quagmires of mustard ob- 
 scured the radiant colours of Spodes' loveliest 
 plates while Parker's heavy crystal goblets, late 
 so dry and bright 
 
 Splendour diffusing, as the various bow- 
 Fixed by Saturnian Jove in showery clouds, 
 A sign to mortal man 
 
 and reflecting all things in fairy mirrours, 
 reeked with the froth-beads' bubbly trails.
 
 40 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 When neither hunger more, nor thirst remained 
 Unsatisfied, 
 
 Hyppolito, letting fall his weapons with iron clash, 
 and pushing away from him, in disdain, his empty 
 glass, turned round with cordial smile to the de- 
 serted fire ; when, having comfortably arranged 
 one leg over the other, and, with elbows leaning 
 on the arms of the chair, carefully brought the 
 finger's ends of his right hand into exact juxta- 
 position with the corresponding ones of his left, 
 '' thus he spoke." " What illustrious obscure shall 
 now be illuminated by the piercing beams of thy 
 discrimination ? What gem of price shall now be 
 drawn up from the stifling depths of the dull lake 
 of neglect, and brandished by thy tantalizing hand 
 before the longing eyes of the pleased, yet be- 
 wildered readers, of Baldwin's Magazine ? Say 
 canst thou tell ?" " Indeed I can't ! " said I, with 
 a desponding shrug. My friend relinquished his 
 gravity, and his attitude at the same time. " Have 
 you lost your senses ? " cried he, with eager 
 astonished mien " or have you sustained a more 
 irreparable misfortune, the loss of your (I dread to 
 name it) your BONASONI ? " 
 
 At that magic word, I bounded from my un- 
 sympathising chair, which fell helplessly back- 
 wards with dead lump, kicking up its awkward 
 sprawling legs like an overturned turtle; wrung 
 Hyppolito's hands with so extatic a gripe, that he 
 fairly bellowed; while cataracts of incoherent 
 sounds, intended for manifestations of gratitude, 
 tumbled from my mouth with ruinous haste.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 41 
 
 " You'll dine here to day ? you'll sleep here to 
 night? Nay! you shall you must I'll hit off 
 ray article now. This instant ! Red Hot ! Take 
 a book ! and you shall correct it in the evening 
 amuse yourself, my dear Sir ! my dear friend ! 
 Good lack-a-daisy ! that I should forget my darling 
 Bonasoni ! " 
 
 This was absolute fact : the unfortunate Italian 
 lay, hidden and smothered, under a mountain of 
 folios and portfolios, like " Pelion on Ossa piled." 
 To release the hand of my now wickedly smil- 
 ing friend with a supernatural, or connoisseur 
 strength, to extract the long-lost one from his dark 
 abode; to flourish him aloft with triumphant swing ; 
 to spread him out broadly, in bland serenity, on 
 the grey-clothed table, was but the work of a 
 moment ; another second saw me, with headlong 
 haste, splashing away the ink in a hideous scrawl 
 over the satiny surface of my Bath Post. 
 
 As many of our amiable readers may not even 
 be aware of the existence of such a man as Julio 
 Bonasoni, 1 be it known " qu'il etoit peintre, des- 
 
 1 In these times, when he who can cut the clearest stroke 
 on a copper-plate, or dot out the softest shadow, and not he 
 who makes the purest outline, is the best engraver ; when 
 those who write essays on prints prefer the French school 
 to the Italian, and find fault with Marc Antonio, it may be 
 deemed hazardous to point out to public notice, engravings, 
 most of which have neither the merit of clear strokes, fine 
 effect, or finishing to recommend them ; many of which are 
 ill drawn ; where the landscapes are almost always bad, and 
 where all are, in one point or other, defective. But since 
 what is here written is only intended for real artists, or those
 
 42 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 sinateur, et graveur de Bologne. II apprit les 
 principes de 1'art chez Laurent Sdblatini, et choisit 
 Marc Antoine pour modele dans la gravure. On 
 ne salt ni le date de sa naissance, ni celle de sa 
 mort. Plusieurs de ses estampes sont marquees 
 d'une anne'e dont la plus ancienne est celle de 1581, 
 et la plus recente celle de 1574 ; on peut done 
 conclure que Bonasoni est n^ vers 1'an 1510, et qu'il 
 est mort vers 1580." Bartsch. Le Peintre Graveur, 
 p. 103. vol. 15. 
 
 To this extremely gratifying piece of intelligence 
 may be added, that he possessed a classical, elegant, 
 and poetical imagination : his style is composed 
 from the Antique and Parmegianino, with (pretty 
 generally) a judicious and discriminative eye to the 
 peculiarities of individual models. 
 
 The grace, purity, and sensibility of his women, 
 are as much to be courted, as the fat effeminacy of 
 his men is to be avoided. Nothing ever was more 
 characteristically touched than his flesh ; nothing 
 ever more slightly huddled over than his scramb- 
 ling back grounds, harsh skies, and scare-crow trees, 
 introduced only to help the harmonious disposi- 
 tions of lines ; in which grand and weighty branch 
 of the art he has never been surpassed by any 
 engraver, of any age or country. Some plates, 
 
 who study and understand the art, there is less to be appre- 
 hended from censure, as I am sure of their thanks who value 
 compositions only in proportion as they contain fine ideas, 
 or are executed with perfect knowledge of composition. 
 Cumberland's Anecdotes of Julio Bonasoni. p. 26. 8vo. 
 London. 1793.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 43 
 
 however must be exempted from this sweeping 
 censure, among which is that selected for the 
 present luminous exposition. 
 
 No. 99, Bartsch. vol. 15, p. 138. 
 
 The radiant sun's divine renown diffuse, 
 ******* 
 
 Who (his horse mounting) gives both mortals light 
 
 And all th' immortals. Even to horror bright 
 
 A blaze burns from his golden burgonet ; 
 
 Which to behold exceeds the sharpest set 
 
 Of any eyes intention : beams so clear 
 
 It always pours abroad. The glorious cheer 
 
 Of his far-shining face, up to his crown, 
 
 Casts circular radiance that comes streaming down 
 
 About his temples ; * * * * 
 
 ******* 
 
 About his bosom flows so fine a weed 
 ******* 
 
 * * * beneath whose deep folds fly 
 
 His masculine horses round about the sky. 
 
 Singer's Chapman. 
 
 The precise intention of Julio, in this bloomy com- 
 position, has never been discovered. The organ 
 necessary to unravel the intricate allegories es- 
 teemed by the Italians of that age so " moche 
 delectdble," not being, unfortunately, sufficiently 
 developed in our cranium, we shall content our- 
 selves with giving vent to a short unaffected 
 effusion of that pleasure which always possesses 
 us whenever we catch a glance of this poetical 
 print.
 
 44 ESSAYS AND CE1T1CISMS. 
 
 The plain is composed of a field of clear-stream- 
 ing waters, rippling, with hushing murmur, round 
 a nest of light, long-drooping grass and flowers, 
 which "floats the floods among," and has served 
 all the humid night as a couch for two "faire 
 creatures," who have come there we know not 
 how, lying like birds of calm on the charmed 
 wave. There is something fine, something posi- 
 tively supernatural, in the tranquillity of these 
 
 Glorious " phantoms of delight," 
 Rising up in shower of morning light. 
 
 They are absolute flesh and blood, and draw 
 living breath, yet they look unreal from their 
 singular location ; brought by no boat over the 
 moist sea, to a place where there is no trace of 
 man's abode. We feel as if they presently would 
 take flight, and spring away, armed twined in arm, 
 with smiling eyes, lifted on a buoyant current of 
 air. But we will be steady. On the left hand the 
 SUN, " Heaven's far darter ! " " fresh washed in 
 lofty Ocean's waves," blanching with his broad 
 spreading beams the iron-coloured sky, drives mag- 
 nificently on his dazzling chariot, 
 
 Steering 'twixt shining worlds his rushing course, 
 
 attended by winged Time on crutches. The person 
 of the god exhales unspeakable splendours : he is 
 hidden through excess of light. His easy attitude 
 betokens power; he sits superior, and the chariot 
 flies, as his high-breasted horses, " maned all with 
 curl'd flames," paw upwards against the Occident,
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 45 
 
 with space-devouringstrides. By them eight white 
 soft-sliding hours, their amaranthine hair wreathed 
 in plaits, ride with surgy velocity on a trail of 
 volleying clouds, which resemble, in shape and 
 colour, the smoke-globes blown from the mouth of 
 a cannon. 
 
 Eeturn we now to the reedy banks of our islet. 
 The level rays have wakened the mysterious lovers 
 from their bed of lilies. The man, cloudily raising 
 himself on his heavy sleep-numbed arms, regards 
 the unwelcome light with a reproachful air ; while 
 the fair creature at his side, with gently-parted lips, 
 bends down her dove-like eyes 
 
 The whiles her lovely face 
 
 The flashing blood with blushing did inflame. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 Barry Cornwall hath well described her 
 
 Mild is my love as the summer air, 
 And her cheek (her eyes half closing) 
 Now rests on her full-blown bosom fair, 
 Like Languor on Love reposing. 
 
 Behind this gentle pair stands a child, drawing 
 away the shadowing veil from the Elfin nymph's 
 fragrant head : his white silky hair hangs in bunchy 
 clusters, 
 
 And two sharp winged sheares 
 
 Decked with divers plumes, like painted jayes, 
 Were fixed at his back to cut his ayery wayes. 
 
 Spenser's Fairy Queen. 
 
 A few shrubs spread their palmy fans round the 
 back of this ouzy lair ; and there the brittle flag-
 
 46 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 iris springs proudly to form a canopy, with its 
 nodding stalk, for the long tressed heads of the 
 newly-married ones : nor does it require but a 
 small stretch of fancy to imagine that one feels 
 the wholesome wind blowing fresh through the 
 watery grass, yellow with daffodils. We look upon 
 it as quite impossible to convey any adequate idea 
 of the perfect halo of feminine modesty and loveli- 
 ness which enriches Bonasoni's tasteful personifica- 
 tion of waking shamefacedness. JSTone but a man 
 of the most exquisite sensibility could, with such 
 a few lines, have produced such a figure. Only 
 the upper part of her body is awake, and even 
 that droops with a slumbery weakness. Her 
 tender feet, and fair ancles, are yet extended in a 
 beautiful helplessness, on a white sweep of lawn 
 drapery. We may be perhaps a little "fantastique," 
 but the manner in which Phoebus and his train 
 pour along in bland silence, in the midst of a fer- 
 ment of intolerable lustres, seems to us perfectly 
 miraculous. 
 
 How fast they wheel away 
 
 Yet vanish not ! the wind is in the tree, 
 
 But they are silent ; still they roll along 
 
 Immeasureably distant ; and the vault, 
 
 Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds, 
 
 Still deepens its imfathomable depth. 
 
 Wordsworth's Poems, vol. I. p. 302. 
 
 The spirit of morning freshness has shaken, from 
 his winnowing vans, a shower of spicy rains all 
 over the terrestrial part of this print : and neither 
 the colours of Claude, nor Turner, could give us a
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 47 
 
 better idea of the wet dabbled greenness of the 
 odoriferous herb. This captivating engraving is 
 one of the very best of Bonasoni's works, 1 both for 
 design and execution ; still it will appear to the un- 
 initiated, at the first glance, a very queer thing. 2 
 Fine impressions of " Le lever du soleil," 
 represent^ d'une maniere poetique (as M. Bartsch 
 calls it) are very very scarce, " TRES rare." 
 However if the bold, not-to-be-daunted amateur 
 will "go to the price" as the little shopkeepers 
 say, (generally from 2,1. 12s. 6d. to 51. 5s. according 
 to its state) 3 he may perchance meet with one at 
 Woodburne's or Colnaghi's. 
 
 1 It is a great favourite with Mr. Cumberland, for says 
 he, " in that sweet composition, we see grouping equal to 
 the Antique, the grace that Guido afterwards adopted, just 
 proportions, a flowing outline, sweet expression, character, 
 
 finely adapted strokes of the graver, and 
 
 lastly, a poetical composition that might have excited envy 
 in Julio Romano. P. 36. 
 
 2 We think we know one bard, an ardent admirer of 
 nature, animate and inanimate, yet no lover of underbred, 
 colloquial, city vulgarisms ; in short, a genuine descendant 
 from the Elizabethan stock, who will thank us, for intro- 
 ducing this elegant stranger to him, (if indeed they are not 
 already acquainted). Should our choice gain the mede of 
 his approbation, we should not heed a jot the blind gabbling 
 of a million of cold-matter-of-fact critics, or soi-disant 
 artists ; fellows, whose veins are filled with mud, instead 
 of lymph : and who, reeking with the nauseous fumes of 
 tobacco and porter, bark, and bray, at those elevated speci- 
 mens of art, the pure beauties of which, their own coarse 
 and sordid habits hinder them from penetrating. 
 
 3 What it would fetch with a three-inch margin we 
 cannot calculate ! !
 
 48 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 " On lit a la droite d'en bas : " IVLIO BONASONI INVEN- 
 TOEE." Et le monogramme du graveur," (which our Printer 
 says he can't contrive). Note particularly, " On a des 
 4preuves retouchees et fort mauvaises, qui portent cette 
 addresse : Si stampano da Gio. Jacomo Rossi in Roma alia 
 Pace." Bartsch, vol. 15. p. 139. 
 
 Having got so far without ever drawing bit, I 
 laid down my pen ; and, after various attempts, 
 succeeded in detracting the attention of my friend 
 from a dingy, little book, well garnished with 
 thumb marks, entituled. " An Excellent Narration 
 of the delectable Marriage of Cupid and Psyches', 
 ly S. M. Gent. London ; printed ly W. Raikes, and 
 are to lie sold at the sign of the Catte and Bagge- 
 pipes, on London Bridge, 1593." 1 "Well," said I, 
 after subjecting him to the operation of hearing 
 my MS. read. " Well, what do you think of it ? 
 Will it do ? " " Oh ! excellently well ! very good 
 very fair very fair indeed ! only but a a" 
 " But what ? " interrupted I, frightened to death 
 at his objection-foreboding " but " " Why it 
 strikes me though I myself am fully sensible to 
 the lavish beauty and nature of your rural descrip- 
 tions (here I made a very low and grateful bow) 
 nay you know that I delight in them, else why 
 should I have privately printed an Edition of 
 Fenelon's Deux Dialogues sur la Peinture, la 
 totality de laquelle n'est que de CENT ExEMPLAiRES ? " 
 
 (Here I was forced to break in upon Hyppo- 
 lito's fervid eloquence, for fear that he would 
 plung deeper and deeper into an enthusiastic enu- 
 meration of all such reading as was never read). 
 
 [ 1 No such book, of course, exists.]
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 49 
 
 " Well," said he, recovering himself, " where was 
 I ? Oh ! ah ! It strikes me, as I said before, that 
 your highly commendable, but extreme, fondness 
 for the green- wood shade may subject you to seve- 
 ral unsavoury jests from flashy witlings, and it 
 may be they will bestow upon thee, in their at- 
 tempts at quizzing, the nick-name of, Peter Pasto- 
 ral ! Upon thee, my friend! Thee, the-every- 
 place-with-gusto-enjoying Janus! but that per- 
 haps thou heedest not." " Not a rush," said I ; 
 but that was a bounce ! I put my hands abjectly 
 into my pockets and walked heavily to the window. 
 The laughing sun was vanished 
 
 The clouds were blackening, 
 The storms were threatening, 
 And ever the forest made a moan ; 
 Billows were breaking, 
 Poor Janus' heart aching, &c., &c. 
 
 And so indeed it did. The wind, suddenly rising, 
 ran through the dry, clattering branches of the 
 trees with such a 
 
 -romble and a swough, 
 
 As though the storm should bresten every bough. 
 
 A darkness came over every thing, like a sweep 
 from the weighty wing of some unknown power. 
 Hyppolito and I stood for some time silently 
 watching the gloomy scene. " It is really awful," 
 said he, " I never felt so completely as now the 
 beauty of Virgil's 
 
 Terra tremit fugere, ferae et mortalia corda 
 Per gentes humilis stravit pavor 
 E 

 
 50 ESSAYS AND CBITICISMS. 
 
 This night at noon day reminds me of Remi- 
 Irandt's Crucifixion " You are fated to do me 
 good," 1 replied 1. I know of nothing that will 
 conclude my article better, and act as a greater 
 contrast to what I have already scribbled, except 
 it be that sublime vision of a dissolving world, 
 Poussin's Deluge ! and that I believe is tolerably 
 well known by means of Laurent's clever print. 
 No ! Eembrandt is the MAN, " the man for me" 
 The diabolical damping scruple which you just 
 threw in, and yon heavy sky, have together filled 
 me with such black thoughts, that I am quite in 
 
 1 By G , I love you, Mr. Cock, (said Sir Godfrey 
 Kneller to Cock the Auctioneer), and I will do you good ; 
 but you must do something for me too, Mr. Cock : one hand 
 can wash the face, but two hands wash one another. Pope, 
 apud Spence's Anecdotes, edited by S. W. Singer, Esq. p. 181. 
 A book full of amusement, (and to a reflecting man) of in- 
 struction, in which is concealed, under a flowery veil of 
 airy gossipping, plenty of solid food for those who love to 
 speculate on the hearts of men. In these polished times, a 
 man's real character is seldom to be got at from the general 
 tenour of his conduct. The laws of the land, and the laws 
 of society, have, together, the effect of rubbing down smooth, 
 nearly all those prominent points of the disposition, those 
 landmarks of the mind, which separate one individual from 
 another. A slight word, a look, an exclamation, will often 
 let the seemingly careless auditor, deeply into the secret. 
 This anecdote, and the one above it in the work, which we 
 have not room to quote, give us a better idea of the Knight's 
 disposition than could be gathered from a hundred dull 
 quartos. There is a beautiful story of the Duke of Mon- 
 tague's kindness and care of remarkably ugly or worn out 
 domestic animals, horses, cows, dogs, &c. because no one 
 else would love them.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 51 
 
 the right frame of mind for writing a description 
 of this heart-quelling print Lo ! here it is. Let 
 me alone a little while, and I shall have finished 
 my task 
 
 " The Crucifixion." Eembrandt fecit. The Three 
 Crosses. Daulby, No. 80. 
 
 My spirit some transporting Cherub feels, 
 To bear me where the towers of Salem stood, 
 Once glorious towers, now sunk in guiltless blood ; 
 
 There doth my soul in holy vision sit 
 In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatick fit. 
 
 Milton's Passion. 
 
 This may not be the best of all works of art, 
 but it is the most wonderful production of the 
 imagination we ever beheld. In that intensity of 
 feeling which embowels itself in the inmost depths 
 of its subject, it goes as far beyond the Trans- 
 figuration of Raffaelle, as in correctness of drawing, 
 classical purity, and individual expression it falls 
 short of it. Among the thousands of prints that 
 we have seen, we never have met with any thing 
 so solemn, so grand, so preternatural, so bewildering. 
 There is not a feature, or limb made out in it 
 they are only hinted at obscurely, as if the painter 
 had not dared to contemplate the vision of those 
 mysterious agonies, which he seems (to us) to have 
 had offered to the eye of his fancy rather through 
 the agency of some potent spirit, than by the 
 
 E 2
 
 52 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 usual process incident to the mind of man. It 
 was never the work of study, but a sudden shining 
 light, an opening, " an intuition, passing the dark 
 condition of blind humanity ! " The longer we 
 look at it, the deeper its terrors grow. There is 
 nothing in it of Eembrandt's usual concentrated 
 flash: but, watery lights stream down, like the 
 waning moon seen dimly behind clouds when 
 chilling rains fall strait through the air An- 
 other atmosphere, clammy, and putrefying, has 
 been created for the actors in this bloody tragedy, 
 through which they move like phantoms, " doing 
 unearthly deeds ! " Another fragment hangs low, 
 over their sacrilegious heads gross palpable 
 murky like a fixed ceiling. 
 
 Hell's dunnest gloom, or night unlustrous, dark, 
 Of every planet reft, and pall'd in clouds, 
 Did never spread before the sight a veil 
 In thickness like that fog Dante. 
 
 The hardened manner in which His enemies 
 throng in hideous dumbness, to work their evil 
 will, is completely conveyed to the spectator of 
 this fearful exhalation (we cannot call it print) 
 of Eembrandt's brain; of which, with awe and 
 reverence, we shall attempt a description. 
 
 The three Crosses are ranged directly in front, 
 at the end of a long vista, in a very novel, and 
 sublime manner (The first time we saw this 
 sketch, it seemed to us as though a curtain had 
 been suddenly drawn up, and discovered the 
 ghastly, torture-stretched body of Christ elevated
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 53 
 
 on a high stage). On the left rise knolls and 
 banks, composed of the dreadful soil of Golgotha ; 
 for stones, slippery skulls ! for dust, white moul- 
 dered bones! reeking with the noisome steam of 
 unburied putrefactions ;flowerless, shruUess, treeless ! 
 Over these, trample the iron-hooffed horses of the 
 Eoman guard. The right of the pass is closed-in 
 with a huge dead wall, under whose shadow, are 
 couched, in grand obscurity, the feeble, jroiceless 
 mother ; the faithful seed of Zebedeus ; him whom 
 Jesus loved ; and all His followers from the shores 
 of Galilee. Darkness sooty portentous darkness 
 shrouds ' the whole scene ; only above the ac- 
 cursed wood, as if through a horrid rift in the 
 murky ceiling, a rainy deluge, " sleety-flaw, dis- 
 coloured water " streams down amain, spreading 
 a griesly spectral light, even more horrible than 
 that palpable night. Already the Earth pants 
 thick and fast ! The darkened Cross trembles ! 
 The winds are dropt The air is stagnant A 
 muttering rumble growls underneath their feet, 
 and some of that miserable crowd begin to fly 
 down the hill. The horses snuff the coming 
 terrors, and become unmanageable through fear. 
 The moment rapidly approaches, when, nearly 
 torn asunder by His own weight, fainting with 
 loss of blood, which now runs in narrower rivulets 
 from his slit veins, his temples and breast drowned 
 in sweat, and his black tongue parched with the 
 fiery death-fever, Jesus cried " I THIKST." The 
 deadly vinegar is elevated to him.
 
 54 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 This scarcely tasted, his pale lips once more 
 He opens, and now louder than before 
 Cried^ " All his finished 
 To thee, Heavenly Father ! I commend 
 My parting soul." 
 
 Sandys's Christ's Passion. 
 
 His head sinks, and the Sacred Corpse " swings 
 senseless of the Cross." A sheet of vermillion 
 flame shoots sheer through the air, and vanishes : 
 the rocks of Carmel, and Lebanon cleave asunder ; 
 the sea rolls on high from the sands its black 
 weltering waves. Earth yawns, and the graves 
 give up their dwellers. The dead and the living are 
 mingled together in unnatural conjunction, and 
 hurry through the Holy City. New Prodigies 
 await them there The Veil of the Temple the 
 unpierceable Veil ! is rent asunder from top to 
 bottom; and that dreaded recess, containing the 
 Hebrew mysteries, the fatal Ark with the 
 tables, and seven-branched Candelabrum is dis- 
 closed, by the light of unearthly flames, to the 
 God-deserted multitude ! 
 
 Eembrandt never painted this sketch ; and he 
 was quite right. It might have delighted the 
 cold connoisseur, and have brought 3,000 guineas 
 at Christie's ; but to the accomplished Artist and 
 Poet (such a man as Fuseli for instance), it would 
 have lost nearly all its charms, in losing that per- 
 plexing veil of indistinctness which affords such 
 ample range wherein the doubting imagination 
 may speculate. At present it is like a thing from 
 another world. A dark gulf is betwixt us. It is 
 not tangible by the body. We can only approach 
 it in the spirit.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 55 
 
 NOTICES OF THE FINE A$TS. * 
 
 THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS. 
 
 Antonio Lcdi (Corregio) pinx. Francisco Eosas- 
 pina, sculptor. This picture is truly of the spirit, 
 spiritual. Corregio's mind must have been full to 
 saturation, of the honey- dew of Christianity, when 
 he gave birth to this mysterious conception. A 
 holy love swims over the surface of the deep, dead 
 sea of grief, in which every object is immerged, 
 like the floating mist-wreaths with which Ossian 
 clothes his ghosts. The women dissolve in the 
 very " luxury of woe." 
 
 This design is the precise antipodes to that fine 
 one of Caracci (so beautifully engraved by Eoullet) 
 on the same subject. It wants nearly every thing 
 which Annibale's possesses. It is defective in 
 correctness of outline, careless in anatomy; neither 
 heads nor hands, are laboriously painted up from 
 tawny Jew clothesmen and lady models from the 
 academy; and, to top all, the colouring is little 
 more than chiaroscuro. (This last circumstance, 
 indeed, has rendered it easier for the engraver to 
 transpose the whole beauty of the original into the 
 sweet print before us.) What is it, then, that so 
 amply compensates for these grievous omissions ; 
 and which sweeps away its rival before it, in the 
 
 [ lu London Magazine," February, 1820.]
 
 56 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 estimation of every poetieal mind, supported as it 
 is, by studied drapery, extremities drawn with the 
 utmost precision, vigour of execution, fine colour, 
 and (in the Print), the most delicate, and scientific 
 tooling ? 
 
 The first glance at it will enable us to answer 
 sentiment ! the one thing wanting in Caracci's. 
 
 It is time now to give some account of the com- 
 position. 
 
 The body of Jesus, extended on the ground, is 
 partly supported on the knees of his fainting 
 mother, who, with collapsed limbs, almost as life- 
 less as the cold corpse (whose dying features have 
 settled into an expression, breathing forth peace to 
 all mankind), reclines, in the utter exhaustion of 
 grief, on the bosom of a female, who appears to 
 lack pity for herself in bewailing the loss of the 
 desolate mother. Sunk on the ground before the 
 God of her adoration, lies the wretched Magdalen; 
 with disordered hair, clasped hands, quivering 
 mouth, and eyes blinded with tears. 
 
 Another female, hidden in great part ; one soli- 
 tary man descending from the cross ; rocks and 
 trees, which entirely close the back-ground, and 
 are but dimly seen through a warm twilight, com- 
 pose the simple, but deep materials, of this luxu- 
 riously poetical engraving. 
 
 But few impressions of this charming work of 
 Eosaspina have reached this country. The one 
 from which this very inadequate description is 
 taken, hangs neglected in a dark corner of Col- 
 naghi's little inner room.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 57 
 
 JANUS'S JUMBLE: 1 
 ENTEBLACED WITH HYS IOURNEY TO TOWN ; 
 
 Whereunto is annexed a delectable discourse of hys 'visits to the Exhibition, 
 and, to Covent-Garden theatre: 
 
 With sundrie other most absolute criticisms ; very fit for young Courtiers 
 to peruse, and Coy Dames to remember. 
 
 Eat, Friend, and break your fast with this froth, till 
 dinner-time. Don Quixote. 
 
 The sweet season, that bud and bloom forth brings, 
 With green hath clad the hill, and eke the vale ; 
 The Nightingale with feathers new she sings ; 
 The Turtle to her mate hath told her tale. 
 Summer is come, for every spray now springs : 
 The Hart hath hung his old head on the pale ; 
 The Buck in brake his winter coat he flings ; 
 The fishes fleet with new-repaired scale ; 
 The adder all her slough away she flings ; 
 The swift swallow pursueth the flies smale ; 
 The busy bee her honey now she mings ; 
 Winter is worn that was the flowers bale. 
 And thus I see among these pleasant things 
 Each care decays, but yet my toil begins. 
 
 Lord Surrey. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 On my Journey to Town ; on the Month of May ; on 
 my Breakfast ; and on Public Taste in the Fine Arts. 
 
 " THERE is something rotten in the state of Den- 
 mark," yelled we, with the voice of a Chickasaw 
 Indian, as, whirling open the glass door, with a 
 
 I] 1 "London Magazine, June, 1820.]
 
 58 ESSAYS AND CKITIC1SMS. 
 
 spin that threatened the safety of every pane in it, 
 and committing its closure to the winds of heaven, 
 we plunged recklessly amidst that assemblage of 
 amateur Chimney Sweepers, and cognoscenti Bakers' 
 Boys, which usually blockades the windows of 
 
 Messrs. , the famous printsellers. The crowd 
 
 saw that we were mad, and gave way. 
 
 Early in the morning, we had driven over from 
 our temporary tenement (some thirteen miles and 
 a half from London,) for the express purpose of as- 
 certaining the actual advancement made in Taste. 
 This we proposed chiefly to do, by inquiring 
 whether some of those thick massive piles or 
 bales, containing the noblest inventions of the old 
 masters, which have slumbered so deeply within 
 the dark arches of Messrs. - 's cellars and ware- 
 houses, ever since their first arrival from Italy, or 
 France, lying in state, hung with rotten cobweb 
 valances and fringes, richly powdered with dust, 
 and smoke-blacks, whether they had not " burst 
 their bands of sleep asunder," at the " rattling 
 peal " of the gong, struck by our master hand in 
 that Dom-Daniel of the Belles Lettres and Fine 
 Arts, Baldwin's Magazine ? We are not vain 
 not at all but we hoped much from the effects of 
 this our warning to all Amateurs, however widely 
 " scattered the world o'er," to concentrate their 
 forces, and, unfurling the banners of Michael An- 
 gelo, Baffaello, and Titian, to oppose, even unto 
 the death, the onward march of that barbarous 
 horde of Vandals and Pictorial Radicals, who now 
 sweep broadly along, like a rising spring-tide, bear-
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 59 
 
 ing down the meek lank head of the Italian muse. 
 Has not their inundation covered the land, " even 
 that it stinks," with a medley fry of monsters, 
 generated in the foggy, matter-of-fact, money- 
 getting clime of Batavia ? And could it then be 
 supposed, that our appeal to the tasteful would be 
 made in vain ? Buoyed up with rich fancies, we 
 dashed merrily along, passing every thing on the 
 road ; our hearts dancing within us, and the 
 springs of our Gig bounding under us, " as a steed 
 that knows its rider ;" while in the bright blue 
 sky we built up proud palaces, and domes, and 
 pyramids, and towers, with " spires, and pinnacles, 
 
 that glittered ever." 
 
 -Stupendous walls, 
 
 And towers that touched the stars, and halls 
 Pillared with whitest marble, whence 
 Palace on lofty palace sprung ; 
 And over all rich gardens hung, 
 Where, amongst silver waterfalls, 
 Cedars and spice-trees, and green bowers, 
 And sweet winds playing with all the flowers 
 Of Persia and of Araby, 
 Walked 
 
 the ruddy wood-loving Genius of ancient English 
 mirth, leading in his strong hand a slender Nymph 
 "like some fair marble carved by Phidias' hand." 
 Shadowed by myrtle boughs, she floated onwards, 
 exhaling from every limb, at every motion, the 
 classical elegance and refinement of antique Greece, 
 like a precious perfume.
 
 60 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 But, now, methought, we stole along 
 Through, halls of more voluptuous glory, 
 Than ever lived in Teian song, 
 Or wantoned in Milesian story ! 
 And girls were there, whose very eyes 
 Seenrd almost to exhale in sighs ; 
 Whose every little ringlet thrill'd, 
 As if with soul and passion fill'd ? 
 
 Tom Moore. 
 
 The golden age was to return " redeunt saturnia 
 regna " and that honoured Tree of high Romance, 
 which, blasted by the scathing frown of Cromwell 
 and the Puritans, is only now slowly beginning to 
 recover, was once again to shake its green head 
 in the wind, and shower plenteously its refreshing 
 dewy blossoms over all the thirsty fields of Albion, 
 the White Isle 1 
 
 And all this wondrous change was to be achieved, 
 solely and wholly by the lucem ex tenebris extrahens 
 hand of Janus Weathercock, in the county of Mid- 
 dlesex, Esq. Ye smile, I see you, ye profane 
 ones : all the while ye are the fools, not I ; for I 
 have on my side the assertion of an ancient 
 which is always a settler for the moderns an 
 assertion, too, which we never recollect to have 
 heard even questioned, that 
 
 1 We can find nothing concerning this huge Tree, though 
 we have carefully examined Koger Bacon, Bede, Geoffry of 
 Monmouth, Gildas, Froissart, Camden, &c., &c. The only 
 thing that comes at all near it, is the Ash of Ygdrosil, 
 in the Edda of Ssemundus. Note by James Jackass, Esq., 
 F.S.A.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 61 
 
 Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes l 
 Emollet mores nee sinit esse feroa. 
 
 But it was not merely the vision of future re- 
 finement in the public mind that caused our hey- 
 day blood to course up and down our veins with 
 such lusty wantonness : No it was May ! it was 
 May ! " The sweet season," " the savourous time," 
 the month of" love and jollity, when every thing 
 grows gay 
 
 When the nightingale sings, in the damp cool leaves, 
 A blissful song to all young hearts 
 
 and the malicious cuckoo " mocks married men " 
 with his two ominous notes : 
 
 When little wrens but newly fledge, 
 
 First from their nests hop up and down the hedge, 
 
 And then from bough to bough climb up a tree 
 
 **#**## 
 
 So, flushing from one spray unto another, 
 Get to the top, and then emboldened fly. 
 
 What a hard-hearted muck-worm must he be 
 who does not feel this delicious part of the year 
 tingle along his nerves like sparkling champagne. 
 Yet alas ! such there are in London, that great 
 Babylon, who wallow and glory in the filth of 
 their own styes. 
 
 Said Guyon, see the mind of beastly man 
 That hath so soon forgot the excellence 
 Of his creation, when he life began. 
 
 1 Ingenuas certes, we translate, The science of Print Col 
 Ucting.
 
 62 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 These " blind mouths " know not what it is to 
 offer up a fervent prayer, in the clear face of 
 heaven, to him whose beautiful works surround 
 us; while the dews of the morning descend 
 blandly, as if they were a visible answer, assuring 
 that the breathings of a sincere and simple heart 
 are never rejected by the Great Father of all. On 
 giving it a second thought, we are sure that more 
 than half of our splendid day-dream to the season 
 did belong ; for what man, or woman either, of the 
 least sensibility, would not feel reinvigorated, nay 
 created again anew, as it were, by the western 
 breeze the odoriferous breath of spring, blowing 
 briskly in his or her face, clearing the eyes, and 
 causing to gulp down whole draughts of freshness, 
 bracing and stimulating as soda water ! The 
 motley blossoms of the orchard-trees flew over us, 
 as we whisked rapidly along green lanes, between 
 high hedges of the sweet hawthorn and the elegant 
 wild briar, while the sight of their banks, soft 
 with thick young grass, and " cowslips wan, that 
 hang the pensive head," invited us, with dumb, 
 but most potent eloquence, to alight and take a 
 roll. " To take a roll I " This is the best idea, 
 after all, that we can give of the overwhelming 
 beauty of the landscape ; yet only think, propriety 
 and decorum-loving reader, of Janus, that austere, 
 sour, solid critic and philosopher the sheet-anchor 
 of the LONDON rolling under a hedge, like a little 
 boy or a cow ! ! ! Suppose we had been caught in 
 the fact by the Editor or any of the proprietors ! 
 The actual thing res ipsissima (what a pity it is
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 63 
 
 that we have no such fine, ultra-absolute, vehe- 
 mently-insisting word in our language) would be 
 better than these horrible imaginings, which cause 
 the knap of our coat 1 to stand up on end, all the 
 wrong way ! Nevertheless, having a strict regard 
 to truth, we must own that once (when nobody 
 saw us) we did stop Contributor (our chaise-horse, 
 gentle reader), in his swinging trot, and, leaving 
 our vehicular machine, did smother our face in a 
 watery bed of cowslips, wet with May-dews. This 
 was our only offence, except lingering to take one 
 peep betwixt the hazels, at the dark blue scenery, 
 richly studded with elmy farms, villas, parks, 
 plantations of firs, churches, towns, &c. broken 
 into a hundred little hills, forming, on the whole, 
 but one grand, sweeping, hollow curve, of fifty 
 miles extent; through part of which ran a con- 
 siderable stream, coming down from the hills 
 "full stiff, and bold;" 
 
 1 Surely Janus would have been justified in using a 
 plural noun, thereby rendering his concord correct. There 
 is adequate authority for describing one man as wearing 
 three, four, or more coats at once. In a very curious trial, 
 we recollect that one gentleman was indicted for assault 
 and battery, inasmuch as that he threw, or caused to be 
 thrown, a glass of Toddy over the person of another gentle- 
 man, thereby spoiling 
 
 The cloathes that he had on, and thereon, 
 To wit, twelve coats ! and twelve surtouts ! ! 
 Twelve pantaloons ! ! ! twelve pair of boots ! ! ! ! 
 
 And so on to a vast amount. A Professional Friend.
 
 64 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Clere was the water, and as cold 
 As any well is, sooth to say. 
 
 Lord Buckhurst, in his induction to the legend 
 of the Duke of Buckingham, gives, as one of his 
 characteristics of misery, that, 
 
 He drank the running stream, his cup the bare 
 Of his palm closed * * * 
 
 This is great authority notwithstanding and in 
 open defiance of which, we took (after the manner 
 of the burley clerk of Copmanhurst) ' five copious 
 draughts, out of the above-mentioned extempore 
 cup, from a little brook, clear as a diamond, 
 which ran gurgling and whistling over a hard bed 
 of shining peebles : then hastily drawing on our 
 gloves, and arranging our white reins judgemati- 
 cally, we rose, with vigorous spring, into our seat, 
 " like feathered Mercury ; " cut three excentric 
 circles (in the air for neither Contributor, nor 
 his master, will stand whip both being apt to 
 kick) with our light thong, made all for show 
 and set off at a rate which, in less than an hour, 
 landed us safely at George's, just as the clock was 
 on the stroke of nine. The humane will be pleased 
 to hear, that we met with no accidents 'or obstacles 
 on the road, save one dung-cart in a narrow lane, 
 and three turnpikes. 
 
 Our early arrival seemed to put the whole house 
 in confusion : the word was, with some little ado, 
 passed to the head waiter a very steady, respect- 
 able, active, obliging man, who knows our ways
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 65 
 
 and who quickly made his appearance, with many 
 smiling greetings, somewhat between joy and sur- 
 prise. "We have travelled fourteen miles," said 
 we, " without any breakfast." 
 
 "Indeed, sir," ejaculated he, "what shall we 
 get ready ? " 
 
 "Why, nothing particular," answered we, 
 stroking our chin slowly, with a dubious, meditating 
 air, " any thing will do just a little chocolate, 
 (make it thick will ye ?) a cup of good gunpowder 
 not too strong, for our nerves are RATHER weak, 
 or so a little scraped beef, and a few radishes 
 and and a any cold meat that you may have 
 in the house ham, or beef, or a devilled kidney, 
 or so some eggs of course, and that will do ! 
 Yet, stay ! hem ! bring me a leetle glass of cogniac 
 with the breakfast, for the east wind (the breeze 
 was westerly, as we said before) has got into our 1 
 
 1 Mr. "Weathercock is licentiously singular in his plurals, 
 varying them singularly, or with the singular, as he pleases. 
 Sometimes he is we, and sometimes /; giving thereby 
 reason to suspect that he intends to throw ridicule on us ; 
 which (if we were once sure of it) we would resent, by 
 rendering him impersonal for the rest of his life. The 
 privileges of an Editor in his own Magazine, like those of 
 a king in his own territory, are not to be slighted with 
 impunity. But we just now recollect that Ministers have 
 been committing, as a blunder, an irreverence similar to 
 that which Mr. Weathercock perpetrates as a freak. The 
 King's last speech is calculated to afford to the ill-disposed 
 ground for questioning whether his Majesty be single or 
 double. The cockney who called for "coffee for tea, and 
 two for one" might adduce these improper irregularities of 
 style, as affording him countenance in his strange confusion 
 of terms. Editor.
 
 66 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 stomachs and and (mutteringly) our nerves 
 are rather weak, or so." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " And, WAITER ! (calling at the top of our mellow 
 voice.') A bottle of Soda-water, just to amuse our- 
 selves with, till all is ready." 
 
 No sooner said than done, and in a very short 
 time we had made a pretty good clearance. Then 
 feeling ourselves considerably refreshed, we tarried 
 not, but set out instant&r on our critical journey ; 
 first of all giving cautious notice to Mr. Curt, that 
 we should probably take an early dinner at five 
 o'clock. Briskly walked we down the Hay- 
 market, swinging our cane with a kind of insolent 
 confidence and whistling, humming, and singing 
 (alternately) our old favourite air, " Non Pid 
 andrai," we wheeled on our centre to the left, 
 obliqued to the right, and then were greeted by 
 
 the tinkle of Messrs. 's door-bell, and the 
 
 sharp bark of the print collector's terrier, 1 who, on 
 our near approach, gave us a gracious wriggle of 
 recognition. The room was, as usual, crowded 2 
 with beauty and fashion. English marchionesses, 
 foreign princes, knights, dames, squires of high 
 degree (at Cambridge) and damozels. Feeling that, 
 
 1 This faithful animal holds much the same kind of place 
 with amateurs of Kaffaelle Morghens, as Mr. Payne's crooked- 
 tailed cat does with Bibliomaniacs. 
 
 2 Janus here betrays himself. We had before suspected 
 that the story of his early arrival in town was all a fudge. 
 
 Messrs. 's full levee is about three o'clock. 
 
 /. I. F. S. A.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 67 
 
 under existing circumstances, our chance of atten- 
 tion was as a corn of salt to the Continent of lost 
 Greenland, we gathered up the floating flappets of 
 our frock, and adventured to pass edgeways be- 
 tween a rich cluster of living flowers "a tulip 
 bed," as Wieland, in his Oberon, calls a bevy of 
 lovely girls to the quiet end of the shop. This, 
 treading as gingerly as a cat among china, we 
 atchieved ; doing no damage in our passage, save 
 drawing away, unperceived, a Brussels lace veil 
 from the shoulder of a young lady, on the rowel 
 of our long brass spur (we were once a cornet in 
 the yeomanry). Speedily, however, was it disen- 
 gaged, and presented, in our peculiar manner, 
 (something between the suavity of the accom- 
 plished dilletante and the martial grace of the 
 dragoon) to the charming owner, who flashed 
 forth a smile of thanks which thrilled to our very 
 marrow. Being now snugly seated in a corner, 
 we began, " erectis auribus," to suck in the excla- 
 mations, indicating the tasteful desires of the 
 noble throng : but 0, Buonarotti ! what cruel 
 pains assailed us, when such enquiries as the follow- 
 ing smote crushingly on our tympanum. " "When 
 will your plate of the Princess Charlotte be out ?" 
 "Have you received any more of Carlo Vernet's 
 
 Horses, Mr. ?" " What is the price of 
 
 Isabey's Congress ?" " Is n't there a new portrait 
 
 of that dear man, Lord S ?" lisped out an 
 
 affected little golden-haired coquette. " Will you 
 have the goodness to let me look at some of the lith 
 
 lath the stone-drawings, I mean " said 
 
 F 2
 
 68 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 a nice lad, an officer in the guards. "Pray, sir, 
 haven't you got some pictures of stage coaches ?" 
 said a jolly red-faced squire, with neat silver spurs 
 and top-boots. Mr. - smiled. " Is this pos- 
 sible ?" whispered we to him, as he passed close to 
 us, in order to get at Fuller's Sporting Miseries 
 to regale the boiled-gooseberry eyes of Nimrod. 
 "By the beard of Apollo!" said I (he has one 
 in Pass's frontispiece to Chapman's hymns) " my 
 mind misgives me concerning Marc Antonio and 
 Bonasoni." At the mention of these dear names, 
 Mr. - - drooped his head, and preserved a 
 most speaking silence. The horrid truth broke on 
 our mind at once. Not an old Italian print had 
 seen the day for two months ; and my Article my 
 last delicious Sentimentality, had been wasted on 
 "beasts who wanted discourse of reason!" My 
 head I mean our head turned ; we clapt on 
 our hat furiously, the hinder part before, bored ruth- 
 lessly through the crowd, trampling on lap-dogs, 
 and carrying away canes, parasols, and umbrellas, 
 while our spurs clank'd dreadful, swept down 
 " DodwelTs beautiful Views in Greece," and rushed 
 into the street uttering, or rather howling, the sen- 
 tence placed at the head of this Chapter. How 
 long this fit, this awful visitation, lasted, we are 
 not prepared to say ; the first thing we recollect 
 was hearing Mr. Bohte' softly and soothingly 
 breathing into our ear, "We have sold 150 copies 
 of Retch's Faust within this last two months, and 
 we have sent to Germany for 150 more!" This 
 instantly brought me to my * *
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 69 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 ***** 
 ***** 
 
 "Has FUSELI any pictures there, then?" said 
 
 we" He has, Sir," quoth Mr. Bohte' * 
 
 ***** 
 
 ***** 
 ***** 
 ***** 
 
 CHAP II. 1 
 
 ON THE EXHIBITION AT SOMEKSET HOUSE. 
 
 While lingering at the bottom of that heart- 
 breaking staircase, mustering up resolution to 
 climb, some one elbowed us rather rudely (this is 
 the usual way in novels) we turned fiercely round 
 and who should it be but Jonas Wagtail, Esq. 
 our " Mr. Fine Arts." 
 
 " Good morrow to you Mr. Weathercock, how do 
 
 you do, this * * * * 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 * * * * . * 
 ***** 
 
 * and returned sick-hearted, 
 
 weary, hot, dusty, with a confounded head-ache to 
 Coventry-street. 
 
 1 These incoherences and chasms afflict us (the Editor) 
 sorely. The extraordinary author has either not written, 
 or forgotten to transmit, the continuation of his conversa-
 
 70 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 THE THEATRES. 
 
 Here, resting from our labours, we gave our- 
 selves up, "elbows, and knees, and all," to the 
 black bile cursing the artists, and the arts, and 
 patrons, and the British Institution, and the im- 
 practicable public! From this mood of mental 
 atrocity we were awakened to a proper sense of 
 our humanity by the kind enquiries of the waiter 
 concerning our dinner, at the same time that he 
 presented us with the old Times, as better than the 
 New. "What is it to-night," said I, glancing up 
 and down the second page for the Theatrical adver- 
 tisements, with screwed up-searching eye ? 
 "Anything you please, Sir," replicated the wait&re, 
 who, hearing us speak, and not being well able 
 to make out what we said, imagined, (not unwisely) 
 that it had some reference to the viands. " Oh ! 
 Henri Quatre," mumbled we, " The Carte ? Yes, 
 Sir," quod the officious man (he has picked up a 
 little French since the peace), catching a fragment 
 of a sound, and handing us the interminable bill of 
 fare. A sudden thought struck us. " Send down 
 
 tion with Mr. Boht, and almost the whole of his chapter 
 on the exhibition. We can only therefore make out, that 
 the conversation in question suggested the visit to Somerset 
 House, and that the visit to Somerset House suggested 
 notices of the pictures, which if we can get hold of in 
 any decent time, shall be crammed in wherever we may be 
 able to find room either under the head Fine Arts, or the 
 more appropriate one of Commercial Report. Editor.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 71 
 
 to the stables, and tell them I sha'nt want Con- 
 tributor 1 to night I must have a bed here and 
 some stewed eels take care for God's-sake that it is 
 well aired ! Some macaroni an oyster pdtt or 
 two, a basin and some soap and water, some 
 veal cutlets en papillate a bottle of sauterne and 
 call me a coach at ten minutes before seven 
 precisely, mind!" "Pass we awhile the dinner 
 hour unsung," as Mr. Gillies says (with the excep- 
 tion of one word) in his charming imitation of 
 Beattie's Minstrel Childe Alarique. The dinner 
 was of course good, and the sauterne excellent. 
 The Jarvey jolts Janus jumblingly over the stones; 
 the well-known yells of buy a bill o'the play crack 
 the drums of our ears, and lo ! the lofty doric 
 columns of Covent Garden rise magnificently up 
 against our eyes : and now, respected Editor ! as 
 we are rather before our time, allow us, 'ere we 
 leave the natural light of Heaven to bury ourselves 
 in an atmosphere of lamp-oil, gas, and foggy 
 breaths, to throw out a few random hints on the 
 manner in which the Drama is treated in your 
 " highly respectable Miscellany," as the phrase is. 
 
 In the first place, we must utter an obvious 
 truism, that the criticisms in this department are 
 transcendently superior in discrimination, gusto, 
 raciness, poetical feeling, and power of language, 
 to any that statedly appear in the other periodicals 
 and we should deem lightly of that man's judg- 
 ment, who should lightly deem of them. Having 
 premised so much, I shall now proceed to lay 
 
 1 The name of Wainewright's horse.
 
 72 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 down another, (to me at least) self-evident pro- 
 position, viz. that this is the age of vulgarity! We 
 have no such thing now-a-days, as what was 
 termed a fine gentleman ! we can't even manage it 
 on the stage. Mr. Kemble, in Leon, was the last. 
 Mr. Elliston always seems to us in such parts 
 (Dorincourt to wit) to have a coxcomhical con- 
 sciousness in his ease which causes it to amount to 
 stiffness. Mr. Young both on and off the stage is 
 a perfect gentleman, but still he, even he, is not 
 exactly the fine one. Mr. Jones, in Lord Trinket, 
 is a tolerable fop of the old school; but that won't 
 do. Nevertheless his diamond buckles, his ele- 
 gantly cut coats, his ruffles of point lace, his white 
 satin breeches, and cut-steel watch-chain, are won- 
 derfully refreshing. Upon the whole Mr. Charles 
 Kemble comes the nearest to the lean ideal of a 
 gentleman, of any actor we at present possess ; his 
 commanding figure and easy elegant attitudes go 
 a great way of themselves. Nothing can exceed 
 the beautiful action of his hands, when engaged 
 in level dialogue. Then he is the last of the 
 Kembles Ultimus Romanorum he is the bro- 
 ther of Coriolanus and Queen Katharine; but 
 we are running riot and awry. We say that 
 in former times it was the custom for every 
 youth, " not of churl's blood," to fashion his beha- 
 viour in some measure (without ostentation) after 
 that of one of the gallant preutc chevaliers of the 
 heroic romances (as they were called), which 
 constituted the principal fashionable reading of the 
 day. All the knights, whether Persians, Medes,
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 73 
 
 or Macedonians, in the Cassandra, are absolute fine 
 gentlemen. What a number of accomplishments 
 and trades went of old to the formation of a man 
 of fashion now alas ! how few. The tailor and 
 stay-maker are all-sufficient, saving that, here and 
 there, some fanciful "Juvenal" calls in the aid of 
 Messrs. Carter, Holt, and Joshua Hudson ! ! ! Gal- 
 lantry to the ladies, too, is now an unknown thing ; 
 but that is chiefly their own fault : how can one 
 bow down one's stately masculine head, before 
 unstately, hump-backed giglots, scrimply arrayed in 
 two guineas' worth of trumpery British muslin, or 
 a scrap of Spitalfields silk at seven and four pence 
 per yard ? We gabble about the improvement in 
 the style of female attire, but what, in the name 
 of Queen Briolania, have we to compete with the 
 blazing splendour of the dames in the Luxembourg, 
 or (barring the length of the waist) with the French 
 whole lengths of the charming Montespan or the 
 lovely young Mademoiselle Fontanges ? " But, 
 master Janus, how is all this to the purpose ? " 
 Briefly thus. It appears to us that the time re- 
 quireth not the hand of genius to give it a gusto 
 for the tastes and feelings of what are called the 
 lower orders, rather the reverse ! We want more 
 macaroni and champagne; less boxing and bull 
 beef. Now, Mr. Drama 1 of the LONDON seems 
 determined to show his readers that his stomach 
 is hearty that he can relish bread and cheese, and 
 porter, which certainly are very fine things in the 
 country, and when we can get nothing else and 
 
 f 1 Hazlitt.]
 
 74 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 so far, all this is very well. But surely, in the cen- 
 tre of fashion, we might be now and then indulged 
 with more elegant fare, something that would suit 
 better with the diamond rings on our fingers, the 
 antique cameos in our breast-pins, our cambric 
 pocket-handkerchief breathing forth Attargul,. our 
 pale lemon-coloured kid gloves ! some chicken 
 fricaseed white for instance ; a bottle of Hock or 
 Moselle, and a glass of Maraschino. 1 We might 
 hear more about the opera and the opera dancers; 
 and something of the unaffected lady-like air of 
 Miss Brunton (bewitching creature I). By what 
 
 1 Our friend and Correspondent Janus is here entering 
 on ground where " angels might fear to tread : " and he, 
 notwithstanding his occasional devoutness, is not as yet 
 quite an angel. May he be long preserved from becoming 
 one for the benefit of the " Domdaniel of the Belles- 
 Lettres." It cannot be said of him that he is " too good 
 for earth," so we wish to keep him amongst us. But to 
 return : Janus, an irregular writer, here enters into con- 
 tention with one of our regular writers : this is as bad as 
 if a skirmisher were to turn about and fire on his own bat- 
 talion. We certainly do not think this proper ; but as we 
 have reason to believe that " our Mr. Drama " does not read 
 "our Magazine," we allow the objectionable passages to 
 stand. For ourselves, we never go either to the large or 
 the small theatres, nor ever drink either Porter or Hock ; 
 nor ever eat either cheese or chickens fricaseed white : we 
 are therefore perfectly impartial ("Mr. Drama" would 
 probably say incapable) in this business : and our opinion 
 is, judging from hearsay, that the age may take lessons of 
 gentility from the Cobourg and the Miss Dennets, par- 
 ticularly when they introduce quotations from Spenser 
 quite as effectually as from the Opera and the Opera 
 Dancers, Covent-garden, and even Macready himself. 
 Editor L. M.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 75 
 
 strange obliquity, too, does Mr. Drama persevere 
 with, unabated constancy in his patronage of three 
 little unformed girls, notable favourites with the 
 gallery and the Whitechapel orders, with which the 
 boxes at Covent-garden were last season so lavishly 
 crammed ? He takes " a pleasant stroll up to 
 Sadler's Wells," (a place we have heard of) 
 enters , enjoys " the Monastery and the Fate of 
 Galas," lauds one Mister Stansby the manager, 
 and finally revisits the pure glimpses of the moon, 
 with his cloathes kivered with fragments of gnawed 
 gingerbread, and rendered un wearable by the steams 
 of gin, quids, and aniseseed ; thus paying pretty 
 dearly for his freak. He affects a liking for 
 Ta^aw-court-road, rather than for Albemarle- 
 street. He pretends a dislike for lords in the 
 abstract, and would have us imagine that he pre- 
 ferred the noisy rebels in the gallery. He makes 
 honourable mention of a certain Miss Valency 
 who, our hairdresser informs us, is a bouncing 
 Columbine at " Ashlays or some of them places." 
 He entertains serious thoughts of the Eoyal Co- 
 bourg Theatre which we find, by reference to the 
 picture of London, is situated in the borough of 
 Southwark ! faugh ! and he gives us a breathing 
 picture (after the manner of Brower) of his disap- 
 pointment there. He profaneth Spenser to rhapso- 
 dize Miss E. Dennet, Harlequin's wife ! He wil- 
 fully keepeth silent his recollections of Madame 
 Leon, and the sylph-like Milanie the syren with 
 " the foot of fire:" but there we hold him excused, 
 for verily it would be flat blasphemy against " Le
 
 76 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Diou de danse," 1 to introduce these ladies into 
 such bad company. All these things, and more, 
 he doth, because in the wantonness and exuberance 
 of his genius (which is undoubted) he dares do 
 much. He hath also sins of omission, which we 
 shall briefly notice under sixty -three heads, -lya,- 
 primis in the first place, he utterly neglects the 
 wigs of the actors and the ringlets of the actresses: 
 he correcteth not Mr. Abbot's erroneous sash-tying 
 in Captain H. Macintyre: and he allows dear Miss 
 Stephens to wear for the whole evening, without 
 ever drying it, the same gauze French bonnet, wet 
 with the salt sea spray, in which she had weathered 
 the driving storm on Fairport Craggs ! Second : 
 he but it strikes seven, by Jupiter! Allow me, 
 dear Editor, to flatter myself that I have, in the 
 most delicate manner, insinuated my weighty rea- 
 sons for becoming supplementary, and without 
 more ado to rush into the theatre. 
 
 Seated fiddlers also Mr. Ware taps the maho- 
 gany three times with his trenchant fiddlestick; 
 away thunder the gongs and kettle drums ; broad 
 blares the spreading note of the trumpet. The 
 Eolus-cheeked trombone player, with hurried 
 energy, shoots forward his sliding tube half across 
 the stage, cracking the benches with its tearing 
 blast. The miserable Viola, tortured by a 
 ruthless fellow with staring hair, elevated bushy 
 eyebrows, sharply plaited forehead, set teeth, and 
 clenched stringy hands, grunts and whizzes, and 
 
 1 Gascon French so given by Grimm in imitation of 
 
 Vestris.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 77 
 
 groans, till its agony goes to the backbone of every 
 feeling person; and the violins shriek, and the 
 little drums crash, as when, in the forests of 
 Morven, the lightnings rend a thousand oaks. In 
 the momentary breaches of the storm, the wail of 
 the horn and the tinkling twang of the harp arise 
 mistily. Then again the cloud of harmony grows 
 thicker; the gong redoubles its thunders dread, 
 " the eyelids of mortals drop at the weight of the 
 stroke " 
 
 Fain would Janus have kept them fast, 
 
 But open they start, at the crack of the blast. 
 
 Somewhere in Southey. 
 
 The cut glass chandelier twinkles and quivers each 
 particular pendant ; while distinctly, in the midst 
 of this furious tempest, is heard the bow of the 
 leader, riding triumphantly over the roaring wild 
 ocean of sounds. 
 
 This is a very accurate, and not in the least 
 hyperbolical, description of Mr. Bishop's overture 
 to Henri Quatre ; and we do not blame him at all, 
 considering the wretched taste of the audiences 
 for whom he writes : audiences who encore such 
 nauseous trash as "Love among the Koses," 
 " the Victory," and " Abercromby," &c. with maniac 
 delight, while they draw back into stupid insensi- 
 bility, when Duruset sings so simply, feelingly, and 
 at the same time scientifically, Burns's exquisite 
 words 
 
 0, my love is like the red, red rose 
 That's newly sprung in June ; 
 0, my love is like the melody, 
 That's sweetly played in tune.
 
 78 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 But Mr. Bishop can do better things. The largo 
 movement, at the opening of his overture to Cymon, 
 is one of the most expressive, beautiful things we 
 ever met with : it is like Moschus' elegy on the 
 death of Bion, 
 
 Moan with me, moan, ye woods ! 
 * * * * 
 
 Weep on the waters, ye Strymonian swans. 
 
 The pastorale breathes of Sicilian corn-fields ; and 
 the whole together is well worthy of Artie's music 
 to the songs. Neither is this the sole buttress to 
 Bishop's fame: we could instance others but time 
 and Mr. Jocrisse forbid. Our learned brother gave 
 no account of the plot of this piece last month, 
 because he hopes all his readers will go to see it. 
 We shall imitate his highly- to -be -lauded en- 
 sample, because, by the time we are out, all our 
 readers will doubtless have followed his recom- 
 mendation notwithstanding which we have a 
 good deal to say on other parts of the piece. The 
 play was a pretty play a very pretty play ; and 
 the players played their parts well, as our readers 
 know. The scenery, with the exception (if we 
 recollect right) of a prison, was all new, and very 
 well painted : 1 the music was indifferently good : 
 the worst things Mr. Bishop does are better, and 
 have more spunk about them, than the best of the 
 hashes of our other stage composers as they are 
 
 1 Allow us here to express a wish, that Mr. Havell 
 would publish a good coloured aquatint of the first Scene 
 in Act II. painted by Grieve, representing "a Terrace in 
 a Garden at Meudon."
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 79 
 
 justly nominated in two or three senses. The 
 jokes are chiefly old, approved favourites, and 
 therefore were well received. " There is something 
 convenient in the use of Facetiae, that have been 
 already tried, and moulded into shape, and properly 
 dressed and ornamented : all is safe, and all is 
 easy." Mr. Morton found it so, no doubt. But 
 the costume " ah, there's the rub ! " "We must 
 begin a new paragraph. 
 
 The costume, we say, of the principal characters, 
 with two excellent exceptions, Macready and 
 Egerton, was very far from being the thing and 
 this failure is to us utterly incomprehensible, for 
 we had conceived (foolishly perhaps) that it might 
 as well have been right, as wrong; the more 
 especially as Eubens's Luxembourg Gallery is rather 
 a come-at-able book, and the dresses therein are 
 tolerably applicable, since they happen to be those 
 of Henri Quatre, Sully, Sillery, &c. Howbeit, the 
 prodigious antiquarian knowledge of the manager, 
 Mr. Fawcett or of Mr. Farley, " the magistrate of 
 melodramas," or of whoever got up this affair, 
 has been wanting at the pinch, and one of the fatal 
 consequences of this ignorance of Eubens and the 
 Luxembourg was, that the worthy gentleman, who 
 enacted M. le Due de Crillon was habited in milk 
 white, with Austrian spangled pantaloons (much 
 such another preposterous piece of absurdity 
 as that into which the correctly -classical Mr. 
 Kemble was wont to fall, when he misrepresented 
 the outward man of the iron-clad Hotspur). The 
 aforesaid gentleman, we further observed, had
 
 80 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 guarded his 'shins with a pair of buff-morocco silver- 
 tasseled hessians, which smelt strongly of the 18th 
 Hussars ! Our chere petite Brunton and that in- 
 teresting personification of the ancient English 
 mauvaise honte, Miss Stephens, looked exactly like 
 the last coloured fashions in the Belle Assemble : 
 and here we cannot let slip the opportunity of 
 seriously advising Miss B. to get rid of her pre- 
 sent friseur : he is (and we have had an eye to 
 him for some time past) a miserable, unimprovable 
 fate. Miss Tree (Louison) would, perhaps, have 
 passed muster in one of those troops of Savoyards, 
 which now infest the streets about town but then 
 she has such beautiful ancles ! We wish that her 
 stockings had been white instead of blue. We feel 
 as if cold water were poured down our back, at the 
 sight of 'that colour in ladies' hose. The females, 
 however, seem to have the right of custom for in- 
 variably dressing out of character: Mrs. Bunn 
 alone " the heroine of the stately neck and long 
 winding locks " affects some sort of correctness : 
 whether this is due to herself or the manager, we 
 neither know nor care. The name only of Mr. 
 Emery is enough to convince every one acquainted 
 with his chaste (though Cockneys think it outrty 
 personification of English rusticity, that his Mous- 
 tache was like any thing in the world but a fiery 
 French veteran ; and, in saying this, we mean no- 
 thing disrespectful towards his strong abilities. 
 Mr. Drama, in the luscious plenitude of his good 
 humour says that Fawcett was at home in 
 General D'Aumont; now, we rather existimated,
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 81 
 
 that he felt himself at home in C. Garden Theatre 
 he discharged his functions in such a doubtful, 
 promiscuous sort of a manner ; with his .tongue 
 on the stage, and his mind in the property room ; 
 one eye in the boxes counting the individuals 
 who had not free admissions and orders ; and the 
 other twisted towards " the flys," misdoubting much 
 the due alacrity of the scene shifters. His robe of 
 authority, too, was rather civil, burgomasterish, 
 than bellicose, military. Mr. Liston, yet what 
 can we say of him, but that he must do even that 
 which liketh him most. If Mr. Charles Kemble 
 will doff his cap, which is a very pretty one, and 
 assume a broad-brimmed hat, shadowed thick with 
 tumbling white feathers, and get a new pair of 
 boots (his friend Macready, who well understands 
 all this sort of thing, will show him the model) 
 and just attend a leetle more correctly to his 
 ruff, he may make up his mind that he is actually 
 and bond fide Eugene de Biron that imp of fame. 
 It goes to our hearts, however, to alter any 
 article about Mr. K.'s person, for his noble cavalier- 
 like deportment renders graceful all that he wears. 
 Of Mr. Abbot we have only to say, that he 
 looked very unlike a French officer of the time of 
 the "League," and very like a comely English 
 squire, with his large, well-curled, handsome, lady- 
 loved, British whiskers, and no-mustachios. There 
 is great need of a radical reform about this gentle- 
 man's neck- cloths. These enormous, whalebone- 
 stiffened cravats are like the Habeas Corpus 
 Suspension Act ; they completely deprive their 
 
 G
 
 82 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 victims of freedom of speech. We have now done 
 with vituperative criticisms ; at which happy con- 
 summation we are right joyful, for we love Covent 
 Garden and its actors with a perfect love. To 
 many people our remarks may appear trifling ; 
 and they will exclaim, " What does it signify, if 
 the dresses are not quite right?" Yet these are 
 they who make a great merit of Sir Walter Scott's 
 proper attention to the minutiae of dress and fur- 
 niture, and who would have laughed long and 
 loudly, had Eeginald Front de Bceuf carried a smell- 
 ing-bottle l in his waistcoat pocket or Bois Guil- 
 bert pulled out a fragrant cambric handkerchief 
 to wipe away the death sweat from his brow, in his 
 last dreadful colloquy with Eebecca at the stake. 
 Whatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing 
 well. If deviations from the genuine models are 
 occasionally to be allowed, how difficult it will be 
 to draw the line of defence against the inroads of 
 laziness and anachronismatic licentiousness. As 
 for Mr. Canning's joke of the simultaneous con- 
 gress of Hector of Troy and old Frederic's Prussian 
 Grenadiers, of M. C. Dentatus and the Knights 
 Templar it would become quite a dead letter. 
 Then recollect, Dear Managers, that your tailors 
 and tailoresses will charge no more for moving the 
 shears to the dexter hand, instead of the sinister : 
 besides, if all these arguments fail to affect ye, 
 we have yet another, and an overwhelming one 
 Your absurdities hurt our eyes, and those of a good 
 
 1 As Miss Porter's Sir William Wallace does.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 83 
 
 many other people of Taste and Fashion ! Many 
 of the stiff brocades, and measure-defying waists, 
 of the ladies in the illuminated copies of Froissart 
 and Monstrelet, &c. and in the paintings of 
 Giorgione, Titian, Paris Bordone, Paolo Veronese, 
 Eubens, Vandyke, Watteau, &c., will, doubtless, re- 
 quire some modification and the manner of doing 
 it may be learnt very easily from Mr. Westall's 
 illustrations of Scott's Poems and Novels. But 
 that no possible ground of neglect may remain, We, 
 Weathercock, hereby offer Mr. Fawcett the full 
 benefit of our pictorial powers solely for the love 
 we bear his house. Miss Brunton (of whose speak- 
 ing countenance, two or three hundred expressions 
 are now sparkling round us, firing us to write a 
 Romance of pure Chivalry, rather than a grim, 
 dry dissertation on sword-belts and Palmers' 
 staves) and " The Stephens" in particular, may de- 
 pend on the most prompt attention. They have 
 only to send us a note, without enclosing a fee, 
 addressed to "Janus Weathercock, Esq. care of 
 Mr. Triphook, 23, Old Bond -street," and they will 
 receive, in the course of three days at farthest, the 
 necessary drawings, as accurately finished as the 
 series of " Merveilleuses " by Horace Vernet and 
 Lante. After all, greater attention prevails now 
 than formerly to that important branch of the 
 Histrionic Art, scenical illusion ; and a good deal 
 of this has arisen from the unsolicited exertions of 
 private individuals. The admirers of Mr. Kean's 
 generally correct attire owe much to the Anti- 
 G2
 
 -84 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 quarian research, and graphic powers of Mr. U , 1 
 
 who has so often lent him his kind assistance. 
 
 Explicit Janus's Jumble. 
 
 JANUS WEATHERCOCK'S DIALOGUE ON THE 
 EXHIBITION AT SOMEESET-HOUSE. 2 
 
 [This is the Dialogue which ought to have been inserted 
 in Mr. Weathercock's Jumble. In consequence of offering 
 a handsome reward for its recovery, it has been transmitted 
 to us by the waiter at George's and we make haste to give 
 it place, on the principle of " better late than never." 
 Ed. L.M.] 
 
 Jan. A truce to compliments, good Mr. Wagtail ; 
 and tell me what gaud that is, facing us, in the 
 best place in the room. At this distance it looks 
 like one of Hilton's ornamental designs ? 
 
 Jon. You are quite right, Sir ! and a very clever 
 thing it is esteemed by the best judges ; yet, to my 
 poor thinking, there is something wrong about the 
 general colour, and the legs of Venus have a weak 
 appearance, as if Hilton had not known exactly 
 what he was about. 
 
 1 [Mr. E. V. Utterson.] The literary world is indebted 
 to the same gentleman for the republication of some curious 
 pieces of early English poetry ; and, if report speaks truth, 
 they must thank his lady for a clever fragment in that 
 interesting little volume " Tales of the Dead." 
 
 2 London Magazine, June, 1820.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 85 
 
 Jem. The shadows of the flesh are rich and true 
 but the lights are utterly raw and false. Hide 
 some of them with your -hand, and the picture 
 instantly becomes harmonious : he had better look, 
 not a little, at the Marquis of Stafford's Diana and 
 Acteon by Titian ; he seems falling into such an 
 odious mannerism, both in drawing and colour. A 
 work of this kind, which has not the least pre- 
 tension to poetical feeling (for he has completely 
 missed Spenser's idea, 
 
 Soon as she Venus saw behinde her bacJce, 
 She was ashamed to be so loose surprised ) 
 
 ought to be finished with the most scrupulous 
 attention to the mechanical branches of the art ; 
 surface, truth of Local tints, and diversity of 
 texture, to give it a claim even to the vacuum 
 over one's hall-chimney ! That's an excellent like- 
 ness of Sir William Grant ! Lawrence has caught 
 the character very well. 
 
 Jon. Yes, Sir; but here is another by Phillips 
 which / prefer ; there's more nature in it. 
 
 Jan. In the colouring I grant you, but not in 
 the expression. Mr. P. is a great master of colour, 
 considered as a chaste reflection of nature in a 
 cool, clear day-light ; his handling too is free, 
 without ostentation or manner : (look at that head 
 of Brougham ! it is not canvass, but flesh ;) yet 
 he is far behind Sir Thomas in that subtle 
 method of relieving his sitters from all conscious- 
 ness of observation, so that they give themselves 
 up to him in their weakness, with their most
 
 86 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 cherished, familiar, study-fire-side attitudes : and 
 this does not (I think) arise from any incapacity 
 in the former artist, but rather from a dissimilarity 
 of temperament. Both have penetration and 
 acuteness, both are well conversant with the 
 highest circles, both possess a large share of very 
 general information. Both of them love their art 
 (though perhaps Phillips has the greatest ac- 
 tivity ;) and the manners of each are equally those 
 of polished gentlemen : yet, under the most suave 
 surface, the President's rival conceals uncon- 
 sciously a noble stream of proud English sincerity, 
 which will not suffer him, even for the sake of his 
 art, to stoop to the little vanities and weaknesses, 
 which sometimes freckle the gravest minds. What- 
 ever reputation, as an artist, he may lose with the 
 public from this circumstance, will be rendered back 
 to him sevenfold in the genuine respect of those 
 few who have the honour of his friendship. We 
 say honour ; for, from the bottom of our heart, we 
 join with Pope, " an honest man's the noblest work 
 of God ! " Ha ! there's Lady Selina Meade ! very 
 tasty indeed ! without the least truth of colour, 
 though ! The throats of Sir Thomas's women 
 always look as if they were rubbed over with 
 pearl-paint. Yet, still, nobody else could do them 
 so well ; but where is this famous Heading the 
 Will, of Wilkie's, that is so much talked about, 
 Mr. Wagtail ? 
 
 Jon. Here, Mr. Weathercock ; here it hangs, 
 fully deserving of all that I have written about it 
 in nine folio pages.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 87 
 
 Jan. Oh ! if that's the case, I won't perplex your 
 judgment by any of my prophane criticisms ; you 
 know I've no great affection for these subjects, 
 and 
 
 Jon. But, my dear Sir, allow me to point out 
 seme of the mer 
 
 Jan. I know what you would say, Mr. Wagtail ; 
 but pray don't waste your lights upon me. Point 
 out to Mr. W. that they don't write wills on parch- 
 ment ; that they don't affix blue stamps on paper, 
 and finally, that they don't stamp wills before they 
 are proved. 1 Spare your words ! You can't con- 
 vince me I wont be convinced. I am a staunch 
 adorer of the Antique, and the Florentine and 
 Roman Schools, and loath and detest coat-and- 
 waistcoat pieces, and Crabbe's Poems. Don't 
 imagine, my dear Sir, (seeing Mr. W. looking blue 
 and glum) that I depreciate the wonderful powers 
 of your favourite. I was only letting loose my 
 venom against the style. Nobody admires Wilkie 
 half so much, taken as an exception. I've proofs 
 of his "Blind Fiddler" and "Rent Day." It's 
 fact ! I have indeed ! Only it offends me to the 
 soul, to see a parcel of chuckleheaded Papas, 
 doting Mammas, and chalk-and-charcoal-faced 
 Misses, neglecting that beautiful eccentricity of 
 Turner's yonder in the mahogany frame, and 
 crowding and squeezing, and riding upon one 
 another's backs to get a sight not of the faces 
 
 1 The French critics have found out, that Shakspeare 
 has clapped Bohemia on the sea-shore ; and Schlegel has 
 told the French critics what is the exact value of such 
 criticism. Editor L. M.
 
 88 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 of the folks hearing the Will, but of the brass 
 clasps of the strong box wherein was deposited 
 the Will. What ! has Howard taken it into his 
 head to paint History ? Sad ! Sad ! terribly tame 
 indeed ! Why dos'n't he cleave to Pleiades, 
 Fairies 
 
 Who tumble in the fountain's spray, 
 And in the lunar rainbows play ; 
 
 and Undines dancing on the margin of the curved 
 sea. What's next ? 
 
 Jon. Oh, Mr. Weathercock, you are a strange 
 man ! But look here, Sir ; here's a rich little bit 
 by Jackson, and admirable likenesses ; it is a 
 " Committee of Taste." 
 
 Jan. Holden at the Thatched House a single 
 glance shows it ! 
 
 Jon. No, Mr. Weath 
 
 Jan. I understand you, my dear Sir ; but let's 
 get on, for I begin to be confoundedly tired. 
 That's a fine head of Canova, but Oh, excellent, 
 excellent ! Superbe ! Oh, this is Liston himself 
 " I must laugh a little," as Leon says and, now 
 I've done, who is it by ? 
 
 Jon. Jackson again He is getting on fast ; 
 his colouring is very juicy and glowing, yet I 
 think he is too close an imitator of Sir Joshua ; I 
 still prefer Phillips, or Owen. 
 
 Jan. Quite right, Mr. Wagtail ! You've a fine 
 eye, Sir a fine, pure taste Mais, sacristie ! 
 What a delicious creature ! What an eye ! flash- 
 ing a thousand things in a volley, with its long,
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 89 
 
 dark, dewy lashes : what a graceful flexure of 
 the arms, what glowing lips, and pearly teeth ! 
 How exquisitely she has dressed her hair ! That 
 voluptuous bend of the body is maddening ! My 
 senses are lost in the full folds of that rich, black- 
 satin gown ; and my heart faints at the idea of 
 those lovely Parisian slippers ! This is surely by 
 Horace Vernet, or Chalons ? No Englishman ever 
 dressed a woman with such gusto. Her frock 
 becomes her face, and her face becomes her frock, 
 and both are what are they, Mr. Wagtail ? 
 
 Jon. Why (in a would-if-I-could-find-a-fauli 
 sort of tone, with his mouth twisted all askew?) 
 
 Jan. Why Mr. Wagtail ! Why, you are not 
 going to blaspheme ! If the colouring is rather 
 crude, if the touch is heavy, and the artist un- 
 skilled in the practice of oil painting if there is 
 bad surface, muddled lights, opaque shadows, and 
 a deficiency in all the cursed trumpery in which 
 you connoisseurs delight look in Susanna's face, 
 and you'll forget them all! But come away, Mr. 
 Wagtail, you are a man of straw, of stone, of 
 any thing. Ha ! Comme c'est drdle ! good ! good ! 
 'pon my soul ! (Drunken Barnaby, 196) I did not 
 think Etty had half so much fun in him What a 
 singular low key he has kept it in ; but still it is 
 well-toned, and painted with a strong, firm, spirited 
 hand. Ho ! ho ! this is Mr. Turner's Eome, is it ? 
 Well now, what do you think of it ? It appears 
 to me that the foreground is not half finished : it 
 will take three bladders of ivory Hack and a galli- 
 pot of asphaltum, before it will advance from its
 
 90 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 modest retirement in the back-ground but I 
 think I see something roguish in the turn of your 
 eye, I believe you have written nine pages on 
 that too! eh? 
 
 Jon. Why (smiling) I have done indeed some 
 little 
 
 Jan. Enough ! my good Sir, let us pass on to 
 Fuseli's Ariadne But what, in the name of Ru- 
 bens ! Has Stothard taken to imitate the colours 
 and flourish of Brummagem tea-boards ? 
 
 Jon. It would seem so indeed : besides, this is 
 nothing but a copy, slightly altered from a former 
 design, engraved by your favourite Bromley. 
 
 Jan. Still it is very lovely. I must positively 
 let him japan a board for my sister. 
 
 Jon. Look, Mr. Weathercock, here is the Pro- 
 fessor's grand idea of the Cretan Cave ! What 
 youthful fire glows in this Octogenarian's soul. 
 Yet, methinks, there is something extravagant in 
 the action of Ariadne ! 
 
 Jan. Ah, Mr. Wagtail ! I said before that you 
 were a man of stone ! That some of Fuseli's 
 postures appear strained, I am very free to con- 
 fess ; yet we should be careful how we condemn ; 
 the fault may be in us, who have not the same 
 power of delivering our minds, at will, from the 
 restraints which the rules of polished society and 
 tight breeches have placed on the expression of 
 the passions. And it is to be observed that this 
 great genius generally selects his subjects from 
 the traditions of early barbarous times, when men 
 freely obeyed the fierce impulses of their nature,
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 91 
 
 when their passions were undisguised and naked 
 as their forms. 
 
 Is it to be supposed, that the strong-tossing, 
 white arms of Chriemhild, the future wife of Attila 
 the Hun (the Etzel of the Nibelunglay) were tied 
 down by the shoulder-straps of Mrs. Bell's corsets, 
 or the full stride of her vengeance repressed by 
 the graceful trammels of D'Egville ? But I must 
 stop myself for I could hold forth, " from morn 
 'till dewy eve," on this theme, and shall probably 
 soon give you an article on it : therefore I shall 
 only now add, that those of ardent imaginations 
 alone are competent to judge either the merits, or 
 defects of the epic style : men who can lay aside, 
 as a robe, the prejudices of age and country 
 "who can go out of themselves to inform other 
 existences," like the Persian Dervise ; and whose 
 grasp of intellect is sufficiently wide to contain the 
 idea of man, taken not as a species, but as the genus. 
 Now let us resume our criticism on the picture. 
 For my part / think Fuseli has most truly given 
 the overwhelming power of Eros, in the attitude of 
 Minos' daughter, " straining out and downwards," 
 over the cold, green wall into the dim cave. What 
 a passionate longing to join her love (a demi-god 
 already to her,) is there! "What an impotence 
 to stay ! " The Athenian's lips still glow with that 
 parting kiss, which poured fresh strength through 
 his shoulders when, issuing from the remotest 
 chambers, the Minotaur speeds along the intricacies 
 ol that mysterious den, and, cleaving the air with 
 his roar, bursts out upon the vaulted area. " But
 
 92 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 the hour is come, and the man ;" and as, secure of 
 victory, he ramps forwards with ponderous hoofs on 
 his supposed victim, the jagged iron club of The- 
 seus falls with hideous swing on his brutish visage, 
 smashing the bone. 1 Out from his nostrils spout 
 fire and smoke, and spattering blood, and brains. 
 The Hero's throttling hand is in his throat, his knee 
 is at his chest. But one, stroke more, and the 
 monstrous carcase plunges down, sounding on the 
 sand convulsively spurning the air with bestial 
 legs, as he wallows in sable blood. This is all 
 there, surely, Mr. "Wagtail ? 
 
 Jon. It is indeed ! besides, there is a good deal 
 of mechanical merit about it (though that pink 
 mantle is dirtily painted). The chiaroscuro has 
 great pathos, and the figure of Theseus is grandly 
 drawn. That light which streams on Ariadne's 
 white robe is absolute day, and the whole together 
 is broad and harmonious. 
 
 Jan. Very good, Mr. Wagtail ! I begin to be 
 reconciled to you again: but (yawns) are there 
 any more pictures worth looking at ? for really the 
 heat and gabble of this mob, are giving me a vile 
 headache. 
 
 Jon. Well, Sir, we have'nt much more to do: 
 we'll soon finish this room, and run round the 
 school of painting. Just glance your eye into the 
 Ante-Eoom ! There's a Meleager and Atalanta 
 by one of the Bones, which somehow reminds one 
 of Titian, especially in the landscape. 
 
 1 In fact, he knocked his face off ! ! ! J. J.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 93 
 
 Jan. It does so but let us admire Etty's Coral 
 Finder. It is admirably painted. How boldly the 
 clouds are dashed in ! The dark sapphire shore, 
 crowned with myrtle woods and temples, is quite 
 Venetian ! To be sure the person of Venus is only 
 
 a portrait of Mrs. , the academy model ; but 
 
 then there is no affectation of ideal grace about it, 
 as in those namby-pamby wenches by Hilton. It's 
 honest and downright. 
 
 Jon. Yes ! and the flesh is in a very beautiful 
 tone of colour, and what a pulpy, marrowy touch 
 he has ! but here are several more that you must 
 see. Here's a most capital landscape, by Con- 
 stable, which deserves very great attention, and 
 this is Fuseli's Incantation, in which you will 
 find 
 
 Jan. Plenty of food for an entire day's recrea- 
 tion, which I intend to devote to it, and to the 
 Cathedral scene yonder. 
 
 Jon. Ah! I am afraid you will find much to 
 "blame there. It is too much " in king Carnbyses's 
 vein." 
 
 Jan. You have never read the Nibelung song 
 / have ; and, though I agree with you as to the 
 demerits of this, compared with the artist's former 
 works, yet I assure you its defects lie quite in an 
 opposite direction: its rotten part is the apathy 
 in which Fuseli has clothed Gunter, and the old 
 Sigmund. But of this more anon. Who is this 
 Missey with the brick-dust cheeks, and staring 
 dead eyes, like black beads ? 
 
 Jon. That is your dear Miss Stephens, by Shee !
 
 94 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Jan. You're mistaken, Mr. Wagtail ! look at 
 your catalogue again, Sir ! It is not she, by - 
 
 Jon. Ha ! ha ! ha ! very well ! you're a wag, Mr. 
 Weathercock. But pass by that ill-arranged, ill- 
 coloured, unfeeling, misrepresentation of a Horse 
 and the Duke of Wellington, by Hayter, and 
 indulge yourself in a - - there's Lord Grey, by 
 Phillips ! Laugh at the blasphemous rage of the 
 Boy in Sharp's Sunday More ing. The Girl rubbing 
 the Urchin's Nose all against the grain, is the 
 finest abstraction of smiling, deliberate cruelty, or 
 rather of stony insensibility, that I ever saw ; but 
 it is most unpleasantly coloured, and the wench's 
 crimson gown is very bad. There are more of 
 Stothard's charming, mannered crudities from Boc- 
 cacio ; but they are only enlarged repetitions of 
 those dear little ornaments for Mr. Eogers's cabi- 
 net, which he exhibited last year. Nevertheless, 
 I wish they were mine : but I see you are very 
 impatient I won't detain you any longer here ! 
 You've probably seen that brilliant nosegay, the 
 group of the Misses Lyell, by Phillips Those 
 smooth battle pieces are by Cooper, your aversion ! 
 That's Mulready's Wolf and Lamb yonder's Aber- 
 nethy by the President. 
 
 The infant Archduchess will make a conspicu- 
 ous figure in my article : and now, Sir, lend me 
 your attention one moment in the Painting school. 
 What think you of the Hangers 1 who placed such 
 an abomination as Hayter's Duke of Wellington 
 in the principal, and such a solid bit of nature as 
 
 1 Farrington, Smirke, and Hilton.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 95 
 
 this Storm Retiring, by Phillips, in a corner of 
 the secondary room ? Yet stay, Sir, bridle in your 
 generous wrath awhile, till I have done What 
 shall be donfe to the Council, who suffered such a 
 piece of frippery as that Venus, Iris, and Mars, to 
 remain in the Academy five seconds after they had 
 nosed its entrance ? (310, Hayter.) But you look 
 pale, Mr. Weathercock ! you are ill. 
 
 Jan. I am indeed, Sir. My mind has received 
 a severe shock already this morning : and now the 
 
 sight of that unhap (points towards the Mars 
 
 and Venus] Good morning, Mr. Wagtail! and 
 here Janus without farther ceremony suddenly faced 
 about staggered through the pitying crowd of ladies, 
 gained the head of the staircase, and * *
 
 96 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 1 
 
 This is likely to be a sort of rambling article, quite chitty- 
 chatty and off-hand ; the best sort of leading article, 
 perhaps, after all, now there are so many Magazines at 
 work all over the island. 
 
 Blackw. Mag. 
 
 0, imitatores, servum pecus ; ut mihi ssepe 
 Bilem, ssepe jocum, vestri movere tumultus. 
 
 Id. apud Hor. 
 
 Quos (to wit, the aforesaid Imitatatores, Magazines, and Co.) 
 EGO ! Id. apud Virg. 
 
 The TRUMPETER, taking the ears of the company with a 
 stout oath, entered upon his story as follows. 
 
 From a MS. Tale. 
 
 PUFFING is our decided aversion chiefly from 
 certain notions we entertain of self-respect and 
 not a little from the antipathy which stirs within 
 us to the cuffs we might be called upon to endure 
 in conflict with that shadow of the mighty dead, 
 which is oft-times seen, by night, haunting the 
 scenes about Tilbury Fort. Yet truth, we are told, 
 is a fine thing and will prevail ; to give it " all 
 breath," therefore, is no puff in the evil sense ; and 
 we may assert, without fear of smiles, or dread 
 of contradiction that there are " some good 
 hands " among our contributors ; which if any 
 
 (^Ascribed on conjecture to Wainewright. London 
 Magazine, June, 1820.]
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 97 
 
 one of our readers doubt, after a due perusal of 
 our numbers, why, then, as our peer-poet has it, 
 we are sorry for him and ourselves too. For our 
 own parts, a most perfect agreement in this re- 
 spect with some few thousands of our country- 
 men has put us in such good humour, that we 
 should be for issuing, hereby a direct Edict of 
 editorial eulogy, but for those confounded initials, 
 " of blackest midnight born," whose very birth and 
 essence are mystery. To one who has not shrouded 
 himself in the filmy veil of a misleading letter, 
 we mean the gentleman who introduced us, in our 
 early day, to the sylvan muse of JOHN CLAKE, we 
 are assured that many a gentle reader joins us in 
 sentiments of thanks. In letters which make up 
 a name like his, there is something tangible; 
 some groundwork, as it were, for eulogy, which 
 one vainly seeks in the meagreness of A. B. or Q. 
 or X Y Z. 1 And, in good truth, there is yet another 
 (to say nothing just at present of our double-faced 
 dealer in "SENTIMENTALITIES"), who has vouchsafed 
 to us both his "patronymic and sponsorial appella- 
 tions:" we meanBoNMOT, that queer fellow Bon- 
 mot who, by fixing his name without disguise to 
 one of his things in our First, has enabled us to 
 stretch out the right-hand of fellowship in full as- 
 surance of identity, and to say, we desire more of 
 your acquaintance, good master Egomet ! Since his 
 bouncing introduction of HIMSELF, we have grown 
 
 [ l De Quincey wrote in the London Magazine under the 
 initials X Y Z.] 
 
 H
 
 98 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 familiar-i'sA together ; and, truth to say, he is the 
 strangest medley, the maddest wag it was ever our 
 fate to cope withal ! It is not known in what a 
 variety of shapes he has been figuring away 
 through our pages. Every thing by fits, and 
 nothing long, he changes about not with the 
 phases of the moon, but the minutes on the clock ; 
 and one revolving hour shall find him critic, 
 fidler, poet, and buffoon. He cannot last long. We 
 are something like adepts in diagnostics, and repeat 
 that he cannot last long. The materiel must wear 
 out with the friction of such violent changes. 
 Who can be wise, frolicsome, temperate, furious, 
 tragical, comical, helter-skelter one thing down 
 and another come on, in a moment, without 
 damage ? No man ! And yet such is Bonmot ; 
 though he certainly does afford one speci- 
 men of immutability in that perfectly semper- 
 identical display of idiosyncratic egotism which 
 runs through and leavens all his varieties. Ccenat, 
 propinat, poscit, negat, annuit, units est BONMOT, 
 si non sit BONMOT, mutus erit : and we are much 
 mistaken if this system of self-centering does not 
 speedily throw every rival of the same stock into 
 the shade. Nay, we should not be at all surprised 
 to find the very folly itself starting at the hyper- 
 bolical reflection of its own image, and retiring 
 abashed, with all its trumpery, into that limbo of 
 vanity, from whence it first came to visit us, " not 
 a blessing but a curse."
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 99 
 
 After giving "local habitation" to the above 
 wise saw, we laid down our pen, and, what with 
 a sort of mental gossipping on our friend's oddi- 
 ties, and what with other matters that floated 
 across our mind, we were getting into that state of 
 thinking, in which reverie begins to encroach 
 upon the confines of drowsiness, while, according 
 to that description of gloomy presentiment so 
 finely touched off in Ivanhoe, we were experienc- 
 ing the indefinable consciousness of a coming evil 
 darkening upon our mind like a cloud on a sunny 
 landscape When, thump ! rat, tat, thump, 
 thump ! a thundering knock at the door : we love 
 to be particular in these matters : our own rap, 
 for instance, borrows its tone from the first bar in 
 the overture to Lodoiska) It was a knock, us 
 thought, familiar to our ears, and, accordingly, who 
 should burst in upon our solitude, but the identical 
 BONMOT. In an instant all was storm ! He was 
 every thing, and everything was he ! He trips in 
 with the air of a dancing master, kicks up a dust 
 by clearing the middle of our room of books, 
 which were lying about in all the delightful con- 
 fusion the very lucidus ordo of an author's room ; 
 and, instead of discoursing upon the old Pyrrhic, or 
 the Eomaic, insists upon giving our gravity (nolens 
 volens), a lesson in the last new quadrille, fresh 
 from Almacks ! 
 
 Well, dancing over, down he sat ; and, putting 
 on the rigid brow of an Aristarchus, "come," said 
 he, " now for something serious ; " with that, slap- 
 dashing into the thickest of any question that 
 H2
 
 100 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 started itself, PHILOSOPHY, MORALS, METAPHYSICS, 
 BOTANY, COOKERY, were all dispatched in no time : 
 now he was up, now he was down : now Saturn 
 had the ascendant, now Mercury: but, as it is 
 more difficult to say what he did not attack, than 
 what he did, let it suffice that very few of the ANAS 
 or OLOGIES escaped ; no, not even theology, nor 
 (maugre all the wise heads of Auld Keekie) Boxi- 
 ana itself. In the latter science, indeed, he satis- 
 fied our doubt as to the precise meaning of putting 
 a head into Chancery by a practical lesson, which 
 most sensibly assured us that he had it at his fin- 
 gers' ends. He had no sooner done with gymnas- 
 tics than, as if willing to allow us what he denied 
 himself a moment's breathing time he began 
 shouting at the top of a voice, which seemed the 
 very soul of social mirth and good-fellowship, the 
 first of " Plumpy Bacchus :" then, his countenance 
 suddenly subsiding into sadness, he flung himself 
 into a tragedy attitude, and fell to reciting some 
 verses which he assured us he had dreamt the night 
 before : they were " ON DEATH," and, sure, never 
 were lines more grave-like and dolorous ! There 
 was, of course, the raven flapping his ominous 
 wing against the window of the death-chamber; 
 there were hatchments that rattled, and black 
 banners that waved in the sullen blast of a wintry 
 eve. But death itself could not tame him, for, in 
 an instant, diving into his pocket, as if nothing 
 was too trifling for the curious grasp of his mind, 
 he fished up a musical snuff-box, and, setting it 
 to the liveliest of all lively French airs, he
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 101 
 
 began to accompany the strain on a Jew's harp 
 an instrument he had just bought, and of which, 
 he said, he had made himself a proficient by a 
 lesson taken as he came along. The tune, how- 
 ever, proved too long for the quips and cranks of 
 our friend's disposition ; for, before it had gone 
 through half its measure of pigmy sweetness, 
 he thrust the box into his pocket; and then 
 his fancy seemed mightily tickled at the tiny, 
 smothered sounds of the imprisoned musi- 
 cian's voice, as it struggled out through the 
 mufflings of bandanas and broad-cloth. At this, 
 the alembic of his mind soon dropped forth 
 Tasso and Ferrara ; and then, with a gradation 
 rather less Zenith than Nadir than usual, he 
 began to spout, " Eternal spirit of the cliainless 
 mind, brightest in dungeons, Liberty, art thou." He 
 was about six lines on when he stopped short 
 "ha! true, that reminds me of MY NEW BOOK; 
 here it is ! Just going to publish." So, unrolling 
 a small manuscript which he held in his hand, he 
 read in a tone of elation and display, 
 
 "A CENTURY OF GOOD THINGS; 
 
 Or, 
 
 Thoughts of 
 EGOMET BONMOT, ESQ. 
 
 Striking, eh ? But, come, I'll read you a bit, 
 and, first of all, (list, list, oh, list !) to a list of title- 
 pages ; for, as I dispatch each one of my hundred
 
 102 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 good things in two pages and a half, or so distinct 
 title-pages (with vignettes, you know), will help 
 to give my book a bulk as respectable as its con- 
 tents are important. Now gather and surmise." 
 
 THOUGHTS. ON SONNET-WKITING ; with a choice 
 collection of skeletons for young beginners ; 
 being an improvement upon the principle of the 
 French Bouts-rimAs ; by Egomet Bonmot. 
 
 THOUGHTS. NUGS ANTEDILUVIANS, with the 
 Ophic and Simia-cercopitliecan controversy ; or 
 Snake versus Ape, and Monkey versus both ; 
 the whole illustrated with specimens of the 
 weapons used in the conflict, collected on the 
 spot ; by Egomet Bonmot. 
 
 THOUGHTS. ON WIT AND HUMOUE: the distinc- 
 tive differences of each shown by examples 
 drawn from the works of Egomet Bonmot. 
 
 THOUGHTS. ON THE PEOPHECIES OF THE CUIVLEAN 
 SIBYL ; proving by irrefragable argument, that 
 the entire meaning of the six rolls, originally 
 burnt for want of a purchaser, has been dis- 
 covered by Egomet Bonmot. 
 
 Ci)ougt)t0. n tfje autjjorttg of tfje ?3rut, wherein 
 
 our national descent is satisfactorily traced from 
 the great-grandson of ^Eneas ; and, thence, con- 
 clusions drawn in favour of Catholic Emancipa- 
 tion ; by Egomet Bonmot. 
 
 " Now, / am one of that stock, said he, resting a 
 moment ; my family-name, left untouched by the 
 Saxons, became BONMOT at the Norman conquest.
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 103 
 
 Before that time it was SUtofogl^btattft ; a name (or 
 one very like it) borrowed by Taliesin, to shed the 
 lustre of its bright associations on his Oracle of 
 Varieties. But, allons ! " 
 
 THOUGHTS. More particularly on MYSELF; by 
 Egomet Bonmot. 
 
 THOUGHTS. On certain tendencies to the abolition 
 of the SLAVE-TRADE, in the extraction of Sugar, 
 for home consumption, from the Irish Lalla-root. 
 It is the peculiar property of this root to sustain 
 so little injury from pressure, as to be imme- 
 diately after in a fit state for the absorption of 
 fresh saccharine matter. By Egomet Bonmot. 
 
 THOUGHTS. On the tragedy of "PLAYWEIGHTS 
 VERSUS POETS," now performing nightly at the 
 Theatres Koyal, in solemn silence ; with a natural 
 digression to the evils of a paper currency, and 
 hints for the resumption of cash payments : the 
 whole to conclude with specimens of a true 
 tragic and comic style, in a series of scenes ; 
 written by Egomet Bonmot. 
 
 THOUGHTS. On our treatment of BURNS, contrasted 
 with the mode pursued by the Scandinavians 
 with regard to their SKALDS: the result altogether 
 in favour of the hyperborean method. With an 
 appendix, containing ideas on the most approved 
 means of smothering the fire of genius in a 
 whisky-still : and a treatise on the Art of Pun- 
 ning ; the examples taken from the stores of 
 Egornet Bonmot.
 
 104 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 THOUGHTS. On PROLEGOMENOUS VARIETIES ; with 
 a collection of prefaces, prologues, et cetera, 
 ready adapted for any poem, tragedy, comedy, 
 opera, or farce, that has been, is now being, or 
 shall hereafter be written, in scecula sceculorum ; 
 by Egomet Bonmot.. 
 
 How long he might have gone on at this rate, 
 and whether he would have given over till the end 
 of the " century," heaven only knows : but at this 
 moment, the devil (what a relief !) rapped at the 
 door with a proof, and thus gave a new turn to our 
 thoughtful friend's fancy. " Apropos, room for ME 
 of course in your next." Then out he lugged, from 
 an inside pocket, a huge packet filled, as we 
 imagined from his present mood, with all that was 
 pleasant and sprightly, fit for the goddess frank 
 and free, she ycleped Euphrosyne. " Sprightly ! " 
 echoed Bonmot : " Euphrosyne ! bless your laugh- 
 ter-loving soul, (our laughter-loving soul ! no such 
 thing ; grave, my dear sir very grave (making 
 two distinct syllables of the word ve-ry) sensible 
 and sedate : fun is very well in its way, but, to 
 reverse the old saying, Apollo's bow must not be 
 always unbent : you must, therefore absolutely 
 print these let me see how many, sheets ? one, 
 two, three, um um eleven only eleven sheets 
 of REMARKS made by a dear and bosom friend of 
 mine upon a drama taken by another dear and 
 bosom friend of mine, but with manifold most 
 judicious alterations, from a very curious Dutch 
 work, written by Mynher Hatteraik," (nearly
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 105 
 
 related, we believe, to Dirk of that name) "but 
 not yet known in this country. There, there it is ; 
 and there also (laying his own volume upon our 
 writing desk) there's my collection of choice 
 thoughts ; you may offer it to your friend BALDWIN 
 'twill finish his fortune. Good morning, I am 
 almost too late : engaged to meet some prime coves 
 of the fancy at twelve ; then to the Fives Court ; 
 must be at the Royal Institution by half-past two ; 
 take my twentieth peep at Haydon's Picture in 
 my way back ; letters to Belzoni till five ; dinner 
 chez moi with the little philosopher and the doctor 
 at six ; don our azure hose for the Lady Cerulea 
 Lazuli's Conversazione, at half-past nine; opera, 
 applaud Milanie, and sup with the Corinthians 
 in St. James's-square at two Sunday morning : 
 good bye, hope to see you at church to-morrow, 
 if up in time, or meet ye at Sir Joseph's at night ; 
 good bye, won't forget my hundred good 
 things ? Pray print my friend's remarks : and " 
 exit Bonmot ! 
 
 Was there ever such a creature ! But now for 
 his friend, and his friend's friend, let us see what 
 heaven has sent us. " Remarks on Jan Hatteraik's 
 obstreperous tragedy, called DONNER AND BLITZEN, 
 with citations from a manuscript English drama 
 founded thereon, but with sundry alterations and 
 manifest improvements." Noscitur a sociis ! This 
 is certainly a friend of Bonmot's ; so we'll try 
 what can be done by some abridgments in the 
 threatened number of "grave, sensible and sedate 
 sheets."
 
 106 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 ***** 
 
 But here we find ourselves in a dilemma : our 
 pen has been scratching on (Editor's-like) at such 
 a rate, that we have not room enough left for the 
 said sheets, nor even for their abridgment. We 
 must absolutely give up the insertion this month ; 
 for never be it said that we of The London were 
 the first to set the pernicious example to our 
 brethren of giving up the space occupied by a single 
 paragraph of our own for the most sparkling pro- 
 duction of another. No, no, that would indeed be 
 heresy. Another month we'll see what can be 
 done. 
 
 It just now happens to strike us that Addison 
 says somewhere, (at least, we think 'tis Addison ; 
 but our " chitty-chatty " mood takes away the 
 inclination to get up and look : therefore Addison 
 says somewhere) that a lady seldom writes her 
 real sentiments till she comes to her Postscript. 
 Now it may be the same, for aught we know, in 
 the case before us; so with a hop, skip and a 
 jump (like Milton's devil when, high o'erleaping 
 all bound, he scorned to touch with his feet the 
 lovely freshness of the verdurous banks of paradise) 
 we find ourselves passing over a thousand beauties, 
 and at once pitching in upon a postscript, ap- 
 pended to the remarks in question. Tis a note 
 from Bonmot, in which he gives us to understand 
 that, besides critiques on most subjects under the 
 sun, he has in his possession a very voluminous 
 collection of matter, fit for furnishing up articles
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 107 
 
 quite as good as the foregoing (criticism that was 
 to be) even till doomsday : that he has by him 
 large bundles of such riddles, charades, and rebuses, 
 as might throw the most legitimate descendants of 
 CEdipus into the jaws of the sphinx ; to say nothing 
 of whole Albums filled with Bijouterie in the vari- 
 ous settings of ode, elegy, sonnet, epigram, &c. In 
 answer to all which promise, we shall not fail to 
 impress upon him that there will be ample space 
 and verge enough in these our monthly columns 
 to " air his jewels," whenever he pleases : so that 
 the public (that is to say our public) may judge to 
 what riches their support of our magazine will in- 
 fallibly lead ! What can be more delicious than 
 being amused till doomsday with every subject 
 under the sun ? What a ransack of treasures ! 
 Another Boccaccio, with a thousand days instead 
 of ten, were a mere drop in the ocean to such 
 draughts of " potable gold." 
 
 COKOLLARY. 
 
 And now, reader of MINE ; wert thou admitted, 
 for a moment, within the veil of mystery among 
 the puppets of a magazine, thou would'st learn, 
 that it is not an unknown thing for authors to 
 criticise thf.ir own works; wherefore I, Egomet 
 Bonmot, Esq. do agnise, as the offspring of mine 
 own proper quill, every atom, prose and poetry, 
 drama and criticism, wisdom and witticism, which 
 thou hast now been reading with so much delight. 
 I make this revelation for the sake of candour, not
 
 108 ESSAYS AND CBITICISMS. 
 
 as a wonder ; for hath not my letter in Janu- 
 ary's magazine, which also gave thee pleasure, 
 already intimated that, be the subject what it may, 
 of whatever character, whether tragical or farcical, 
 editorial or contributorial, like Plautus or Seneca 
 Tros Tyriusve or, as Listen says, with his own 
 whimsical and unimitated look of conscious ab- 
 surdity, " short cut or long," to ME 'tis all the 
 same ? 
 
 Furthermore and finally, I hereby record my 
 sincere conviction that, had the preceding pages 
 been no less poetical than they are purely ficti- 
 tious, the Stagyrite himself would have hailed me 
 as his fellow. There is to be seen in them the 
 requisite beginning, middle, and end ; yea, what is 
 even more Aristotle than Aristotle, these three 
 important divisions are, one and all, congruously 
 amalgamated with the very perfection of unity : 
 my sole object, from first to last, having been to 
 lay open the most approved method of treating 
 that NOBLE SCIENCE, described by the two syllables, 
 which stand at the very thresh-hold of this article 
 (pray look back ; you will find them there), mak- 
 ing up the same word which has been echoing 
 throughout, and with which I shall now very con- 
 sistently conclude, namely PUFFING ! 
 
 N.B. Dispatched, by the highflyer, from my 
 lodging in the hotel d'Ubique, No. 1, Euelle Quiz, 
 Tarbe, Gascony, where I am just now for the 
 
 benefit of the air, this day of 
 
 E. B.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 109 
 
 MR. WEATHERCOCK'S PRIVATE 
 CORRESPONDENCE, 1 
 
 INTENDED FOR THE PUBLIC EYE. 
 
 George's Coffee House, Tuesday, 8th August, 1820. 
 
 Dear, respected, and respectable Editor ! 
 
 I am quite ashamed of myself almost afraid to 
 look you in the face, even through a sheet of paper. 
 However, though I have not lately given you any 
 of the valuable exhalations from my own sense- 
 box, yet my exertions to procure crack-contribu- 
 tors have been nearly as zealously unremitting as 
 your own. What do you think of "the Merry- 
 conceited Bricklayer," by the by ? He is a capital 
 belles lettres scholar, although a member of the 
 Eoxburghe-Club. Make him tip you an article on 
 the old Italian romancers and poets, or the lays 
 of the Provencal Troubadours and Diseurs : or, if 
 you desiderate an elegant version of " La Pueelle 
 qui abevra le Polain," or an erudite disquisition 
 on the formation of the " Langue Romanse vul- 
 gaire," he is your man. Talking of articles, my 
 learned friend Dr. Tobias Euddicombe, M.D. is, at 
 my earnest entreaty, casting a tremendous piece of 
 ordnance, an eighty-eight pounder ! which he 
 proposeth to fire off in your next. It is an account 
 of an ancient, newly discovered, illuminated manu- 
 script, which has to name .gfrrusalnn t$ 
 
 f 1 London Magazine, Sept. 1820.]
 
 110 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 tton Of tf)e (Srt'ant Hl&ttin ! ! !" It contains a good 
 deal anent one " Los " who, it appears, is now, and 
 hath been from the creation, the sole and fourfold 
 dominator of the celebrated city of Golgonooza ! 
 The doctor assures me that the redemption of 
 mankind hangs on the universal diffusion of the 
 doctrines broached in this MS. But, however, that 
 is'nt the subject of this scrinium, scroll, or scrawl, 
 or whatever you may call it. You see I date from 
 George's ; but I can't pay my respects to you, 
 padrone mio ! because we, that is Ned L * * * * 
 and I (I'm staying with Ned we toddled up to 
 town this morning from Hampton-Court in his 
 yellow concern with the three roans and the pye- 
 bald), are going back again to night. Well ! I've 
 had a look over the fine arts of this country, 
 meaning the new embellished publications and 
 have sent you the titles of three or four which 
 merit attention. 
 
 1. Chantry's Peak Scenery, 4to. Parts I. and II. 
 The plates are lightly and rather prettily etched 
 (engraved they call it) by the Cooks (with the ex- 
 ception of one poor view of Haddon Hall by Greig, 
 and the cross in Bakewell Church yard by I. le 
 Keux) but they have no repose or breadth all is 
 wiry and frittered. Chantry, as might be expected 
 from one whose branch of art solely regards form, 
 has not the slightest notion of massing his lights, 
 and supporting them as in nature with broad 
 shadows : all the praise we can give them there- 
 fore is, that they are very well for a sculptor one 
 of the best is " a rustic bridge in Monsal dale " by 
 George Cook
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. Ill 
 
 2. The Southern Coast, No. X. 4to. engraved by 
 the Cooks. The three large views are after TURNER, 
 the only man of real genius in landscape now exist- 
 ing I That's praise enough for them. I am very 
 glad that this beautiful work has got into the 
 hands of Messrs. Eodwell and Martin, as it will 
 experience less of that lazy delay which has 
 hitherto characterized all its livraisons : though 
 the non-progressive position maintained by The 
 Provincial Antiquities of Scotland, after all Our 
 encouragement is rather a case in point against my 
 hopes. These same liberal publishers are getting 
 out a number of highly interesting topographical 
 books, viz. Dodwell's Greece, with coloured illustra- 
 tions in folio Major Cockburn's Views of Mount 
 Cenis and the Simplon, two distinct works drawn on 
 stone by Hulmandel and Harding I would advise 
 you to buy them, as I have done. 
 
 Capt. Battye's Paris, 4fo. and 8vo. though 
 worse drawn and engraved than Nash's (being 
 brought into light by the Heathean factory) is 
 nevertheless, I am afraid, a prettier book. Why 
 this is I cannot tell but so it is. The view of 
 Paris from the tomb of Pere la Chaise, in Nash's, 
 by Middirnan and John Pye, is very exquisite. 
 Don't you think so ? Hakewill's Italy improves 
 every number. Turner's Turin from the Superga 
 is magnificent ! and " Nemi, navell'd in the spread- 
 ing woods," by Middiman, after the last-mentioned 
 painter, is enchantingly soothing. It is perfectly 
 Yirgilian. Stothard's Illustrations of Tales of my 
 Landed, six plates, Svo, engraved Toy J. Heath, are 
 pretty simple compositions, full of nature in the
 
 112 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 invention, and full of manner in the execution : 
 added to which, he has completely failed in giving 
 a tangible shape to the mental pictures of the poet. 
 Madge Wildfire, dragging along Jeannie Deans, is 
 a portentous misconception. The man who, ere 
 while, for tasteful composition, unaffected grace, 
 and power of telling a story, ranked second to none 
 but Eaffaelle, is now, woe the while ! sunk into a 
 besotted imitation of Eubens 1 and Watteau. 
 Eouse thyself, Stothard ! thou good old man ! and 
 assert thy former fame ! There are some copies 
 advertised from the famous outlines to Goethe's 
 Faust by Eetsch (of which if you want any, now 
 is your time. Boht4 has a 100 just come from the 
 Custom House, 60 of which are bespoke). How is 
 it that Mr. Moses the etcher takes it into his 
 head, in engraving from antique pictures and vazes, 
 to fancy that he improves the originals by substi- 
 tuting for their wonderfully harmonious, though 
 apparently careless, lines his own stiff drawing ? 
 Let him look at Millengen's faithful valuable book 
 (Vases Grecs, 1813), be humble and amend. As to 
 these copies, they affectedly alter the peculiar 
 fashion of Faust's unmentionables; and at the 
 same time, in the witch-feast on the Harz 
 mountains, bring many things, " nice but vicious," 
 into light, which were properly left in mystic dim- 
 ness by the German artist. Do you know 
 
 Turner's " Liber Studiorum," oblong folio, engraved 
 
 1 On whose real colour he is no more capable of laying 
 hold, than on the grandeur of Michael Angelo.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 113 
 
 by that excellent mezzotinto scraper Beynolds ? If 
 you do, why have you not made it popular by a 
 notice from your own hand ? If you don't lose 
 no time ; but, on my authority, (you can't have a 
 better) set to your lips the sounding alchemy, and 
 proclaim its worth to the four winds of heaven. 
 You may give a nourish also for William Daniell's 
 chaste and beautiful aquatints in his Coasting 
 Tour the third volume containing views in the 
 Isles, possesses extreme interest and merit com- 
 bined. They tell me that Stothard has made some 
 fresh designs from that ever-charming book 
 Robinson Crusoe. I have nothing more in the way 
 of news, except that I have picked up a fine copy 
 of Bocchius's Emblems (you ken the charming 
 things by Bonasoni) first edition, Bologna, 1555 
 capital condition, in blue French morocco by 
 De Borne for whom I still retain some small 
 inkling of affection in spite of the anathemas of 
 the Eev. T. F. Dibdin : also a new horse 1 (Barbary 
 sire and Arabian dam), with whose education I 
 occupy nearly all my mornings ; though I have 
 considerable doubts whether I shall push it be- 
 yond the military manage. However, I wish you 
 would return my Duke of Newcastle. 2 
 
 Dutifully yours, dear Editor, 
 
 Bevil Seymour 
 'Pshaw ! I mean, 
 
 JANUS WEATHERCOCK. 
 
 [ l Mr. Weathercock's CONTRIBUTOR.] 
 [ 2 The well-known treatise on Horsemanship by the 
 Duke.] 
 
 I
 
 114 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 P.S. There was a benefit for Harmer at the 
 Fives Court this morning, but I could'nt attend. 
 I've just this moment received an express from a 
 friend', which says " I went to the Fives Court in 
 the expectation of a prime treat ; but it was most 
 wretchedly attended by lads of the fancy, knowing 
 swells, &c. and the pugilistic nobs were fewer in 
 number than I ever remember to have seen before. 
 To make the matter worse, they had a row inter 
 se; and Tom Belcher was the only man amongst 
 them who would set-to. His bout with Harmer 
 was the best out of seven. The others were a 
 mere display of the rouglust ruffianism. Altogether 
 it was a complete do." 
 
 Addition. The Editor 1 of the late edition of 
 Chapman's Hymns of Homer has omitted, in his 
 preface, one circumstance in their favour viz., 
 that they are in general prodigiously close ver- 
 sions. The opening of the hymn to Pan is nearly 
 word for word with the original. The compound 
 " amorous of noise," as applied to the hairy God, 
 Englishes <f)t\6fcporov very poetically: likewise the 
 description of Neptune's preparation for battle, in 
 the 13 Iliad, beginning AvrUa 8 e o/jeo? 
 <raro 7rai7ra\ovTo<;, &c. down to ^ 
 is both exact and splendid, but the fine idea of 
 j&gse shaking "with his dread entrie" is Chapman's 
 own entirely : Pope is full of sound and fury, and 
 means nothing. 
 
 [ ! Mr. S. W. Singer.]
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 115 
 
 THE BRITISH INSTITUTION. l 
 
 [WE have made a little free with the following article 
 from one of our most estimable correspondents ; but a man 
 who makes so free with others, must consider a little liberty 
 with himself allowable : besides, he is too exuberant not 
 to spare something, and too lively not to forgive much. 
 ED. L. M.] 
 
 Be niggards of advice, on no pretence, 
 For the worst avarice is want of sense. 
 
 MY money paid my book bought here goes for 
 the " feast of Belshazar." Sir, you must wait 
 a full hour it is the fashion, and surrounded three 
 deep with the exquisites of criticism. Alas ! poor 
 Sterne, 'tis well thou art in thy grave the cant 
 thou hatedst most is here triumphant. Alas! 
 poor Belshazar upon one wall thou sawest thy 
 fate, and here thou art upon another enduring thy 
 purgatory ! Well, sir, " I can wait." But I also 
 am both a painter and a critic. " The dog must 
 have his day." Are there no other pictures ? Oh, 
 yes, sir, there are 305 of them : and one two 
 three eight pieces of masonry under the title 
 * Sculpture.' Wouldst thou more of them ? Well, 
 then landscape predominates ; not (with a few 
 worthy exceptions to be hereafter noticed) the 
 landscape of Tiziano, of Mola, Salvator, of the 
 Poussins, Claude, Eubens, Elsheirner, Eembrandt, 
 
 [ l Ascribed to Wainewright on conjecture. London Ma- 
 gazine, April, 1821.] 
 
 12
 
 116 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Wilson, and Turner; but that kind of landscape 
 which is entirely occupied by the tame delineation 
 of a given spot : an enumeration of hill and dale, 
 clumps of trees, shrubs, water, meadows, cottages, 
 and houses ; what is commonly called a View, 
 little more than topography, a kind of pictorial 
 map-work ; in which rainbows, showers, mists, 
 halos, large beams shooting through rifted clouds, 
 storms, starlight, all the most valued materials of 
 the real painter, are not. " Fulham Church from 
 the West!" "A Mill!" with a supplementary, 
 careful, and needful notice, that it is " FROM 
 NATURE." " A study from Nature" (a pigstye !) 
 mercy on us ! Who taught thee, colour-abuser ! 
 to blaspheme the mighty goddess, by attributing 
 to her the sordid contrivances of man ? " Oh, I 
 would have such fellows whipped ! ' Pray you, 
 avoid it!' Hamlet. 'Amen!' But go on" 
 Game, dead and alive. Animals of all sorts. Birds 
 of all feathers. Beasts of all bristle. Noah's 
 Ark disembogued! Pidcock at large! The dry 
 bones of the preserves in the Leverian collection 
 alive again ! Adam and Eve's Courtiers ! Buffon, 
 Audebert and Le Vaillant, framed and glazed 
 without the descriptions. Seriously this class is 
 too full. We can eat partridge often ; mais toujours 
 perdrix ! " The proverb is somewhat musty." 
 There is a glut of puppies and rats, sheep and 
 dung-hills. "Nay, look at Edwin Landseer's 
 Seizure of a Boar (220) ; it is full of life and 
 action ! What a nerve-tearing screech he sets up, 
 as the dog's white teeth break through the gristle
 
 ESSAYS AND CELTICISMS. 117 
 
 of his ear ! I think (though I confess that I am no 
 judge) that it equals Snyders." You are mistaken. 
 It does not, and cannot, even in execution ; the 
 colouring is weak tone and harmony wanting, 
 and in choice of subject holds the same distance 
 from Snyders, as Brauwer does from Eubens 
 Then, where Lies the pleasure of seeing an inno- 
 cent animal tortured ? The wild Boar of the 
 Fleming is an awful brute, ferocious, blood-delight- 
 ing. One makes up one's mind that he is an 
 aggressor and the nervy-knee'd dogs are ministers 
 of justice. He is a savage yager, Syhanus, a wild 
 woodman unsympathetic with man, an affecter of 
 gnarled forests ; but this miserable swine is cock- 
 ney, tame, suburban the property of Poor Widow 
 Hill, who keeps the little green shop at the corner, 
 and would beget greater pity for his tattered 
 auricular, if his filth and stench did not produce 
 disgust. As it is, I long to horsewhip the young 
 rascals (they'll come to the gallows) who have 
 tarred on the " twa curs." I don't envy the heart 
 of him who can dwell on the needless sufferings 
 and death agonies of helpless animals, without any 
 apparent purpose, but that of gain, or drawing 
 worthless praise of his manual dexterity. Pro- 
 bably Mr. Landseer will favour us with the pic- 
 ture of a dog tearing out the bowels of a strong cat, 
 the affectionate pet of some venerable adult, who 
 would not kill a spider. I know such a one who, 
 without any conventicle cant, reverences her God 
 too much to maltreat or despise the apparently 
 meanest of his all-praise-exceeding works. I was
 
 118 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 told the other day of a living artist who, when a 
 child was run over by a cart before its own loved 
 home, and the bankrupt mother stood rigid as 
 stone, staring with maniac agony on her crushed 
 darling, calmly and deliberately gazed on her ' to 
 study the expression,' as he called it ! ! I care not 
 to know his name. My friend assured me, on his 
 honour, that he did not belong to the Academy 
 (I never imagined that he did) ; but let me take this 
 opportunity to assure him that, as a man, I hold 
 him in the most sovereign contempt, not to say 
 detestation ! Now to something pleasant : give 
 me an ounce of civet, good apothecary ! Here is 
 a pretty fragrant Landscape by Miss Landseer, "A 
 painted Ode to Evening " (10), which has, in the 
 chiaroscuro, something of my favourite Stothard 
 about it. I should like to hang it up in my little 
 study very much ; where, in fancy, I would lie 
 passively, lentus in umbrd, under that cool canopy 
 of leaves, and see the kine pass slowly homeward 
 through the twilight, and smell their sweet breath r 
 and hear the distant clank of the sheep bell ; and 
 mark, chaste Eve ! 
 
 Thy dewy fingers draw 
 The gradual dusky veil. l 
 
 2 This beautiful hymn of Collins makes, in my opinion, 
 the nearest approach possible to the cadence and measure 
 of Horace's ode 'Ad Fontem Blandusium.' I wish Mr. 
 Elton would essay it, and let us have it in the next number. 
 Once already he has translated it in an equal number of 
 lines with great success. (See his elegant work " Speci- 
 mens, &c.") These volumes are sufficiently obscure (Mr.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 119 
 
 There is a Portrait next to it (11, Cupid) by 
 Jackson, the imitator of Sir Joshua. I can't say I 
 see any thing in it but some rich colour, which is 
 not in its neighbour, " The Importunate Author," 
 by Newton (12) : the latter, by-the-bye, has great 
 merit in its line ; the expressions are true and 
 humourous, the costume correct and well arranged, 
 the back ground appropriate and walk-inviting; 
 
 Elton having offended some college pedant by his just 
 strictures on the ^Eneid) to induce me to transcribe it 
 entire, not doubting the reader's hearty thanks. It is, as he 
 perceives, extremely poetical ; and the unlearned (no dis- 
 respect is intended by this phrase) may assure himself that 
 it is abundantly faithful. He cannot do better than get 
 the book, as I have the more he drinks of its pure waters, 
 the greater will be his thirst : 
 
 Oh Blandusia's fount ! more clear 
 
 Than glass ; oh, worthy luscious wine 
 
 And sprinkled flowers ; let dawn appear, 
 A goat shall then be thine. 
 
 With budding horns his forehead teems, 
 And love and battle tempt his pride ; 
 
 In vain : his blood with scarlet streams 
 Shall stain thy ice-cold tide. 
 
 The dog-star's flaming hours descend 
 
 Unfelt ; and o'er thy limpid pool 
 Stray flocks, and plough-worn oxen bend, 
 
 To breathe thy lovely cool. 
 
 Thou too shalt roll ennobled waves, 
 
 While the green oak inspires my theme, 
 
 That canopies the rocky caves, 
 
 Whence leaps thy babbling stream.
 
 120 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 the attitude of the patron is simple, and yet ele- 
 gant ; and his whole appearance is not unlike to 
 Charles Kemble in Count D'Anglade, 1 though the 
 dress of the former is red and the latter black, if I 
 remember rightly ; but it is five years ago. I have 
 seen. Farley put on exactly the eager anxiety of 
 the big-wigged poet. Now we have some pic- 
 tures by Wilkie, nothing particular, saving the 
 character of importance and self-appreciation in 
 the Highland Piper, blowing the mort ; " and the 
 prodigious pleased astonishment of the child in 
 arms behind him. 
 
 (16). Hebe. Sir W. Beechey. A picture which 
 must grieve his judicious friends, while it gratifies 
 his unjust maligners. 
 
 (20). W. Linton. The Landing of the Trojans 
 in Delos. This is a sweet classical composition of 
 that fast-improving Landscape-Painter. It is 
 evidently an imitation from the style of Claude, 
 as reflected by Turner, and would have been 
 better had Mr. L. trusted to his own eyes, instead 
 of those of the last mentioned great genius. Second 
 hand is bad ! What must third hand be ? Nature 
 first, Claude second, Turner third. Added to 
 which, Turner has great, dashing faults, which 
 would sink an ordinary artist. Like Fuseli, there- 
 fore, he is a most unfit model. The foreground of 
 this scene is well and genially designed, but most 
 weakly and ungenially coloured. Glaze it richly 
 up with ivory black and a little lake, and you 
 
 1 In the Melo-Drama of the Portfolio.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 121 
 
 will have something far nearer Gelee. I can't do 
 justice to Mr. Stephanoff s inventions, which I be- 
 lieve have a good deal of merit ; for his touch, 
 always comes across me like the relish of magne- 
 sia. It is so meagre and chalky ; he wants fatness 
 and marrow. " The painful Bite " (33). Mr. T. 
 Ward adds to the good opinion I entertained of 
 this artist's talents. The expression of the curly 
 puppy licking his bleeding foot, divided betwixt 
 pain and a liquorish itch again to adventure the 
 rat (I believe it is) in the cage, is well caught. 
 Vincent's "Dutch Fair on Yarmouth Beach" (36) 
 deserves a good substantial notice. T am sorry I 
 have not time to do it. He must accept my ex- 
 cuses and sincere wishes for his success. The 
 purchaser of this gay, yet chaste, painting would 
 not repent his bargain. I thought of treating Mrs. 
 Geo. Anesly (39, an " Italian Flower Stall,"} as an 
 amateur; but she is too strong to require it; 
 therefore let me hint, that she is getting a little 
 mannered in the colouring of her female heads. 
 Variety in her living models is the best caustic to 
 eat away the rotten part. Mr. I. Crome has an 
 enviable " Heath Scene near Norwich" in which the 
 student may see how much a subtle observation of 
 the elements, in their wild moods, does for a most 
 uninteresting flat. This view is not at all like a 
 mere topographical delineation. It assumes a 
 much higher station. Gandy has a fine classical 
 composition (43), " A Landing Place to tJie Temple 
 of Victory" in a singular taste of colour. He 
 should study this handmaid to design a little more.
 
 122 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 "A Farm Yard," by I. Ward, E.A. (47) is of 
 course admirably handled. No man has greater 
 power of pencil ; which would shew out more 
 shiningly, if freed from the gyves, with which a 
 desire of imitating Rubens fetters it. If I might 
 venture to advise such a master of colours, I would 
 hint that the sky is rather out of harmony with 
 the general warm tone of the part terrestrial ; the 
 ramifications of the boughs, in the back ground, 
 are " marvellously crooked ;" they are quite carica- 
 tures. I must hurry on, otherwise I would compli- 
 ment more at large (52) " the Horse, Cur, and 
 Shepherd's Dog (vide Gay's Fables), Mr. T. Ward. 
 The different expressions are very vivid, and the 
 story completely told. The guardian of the flocks 
 is a perfect philosopher, a Socrates. Mrs. Terry 
 has a pretty Recollection of Edinburgh. " Her own 
 sweet " (an old epithet for auld reckie) native town 
 and Mr. Samuel, an agreeable, unpretending 
 view, from an agreeable spot, " King's Weston 
 place," (I know it well) at the Junction of the Avon 
 with the Severn." Three sides of the first room 
 are done. Well, if the architect had stopped here ; 
 but, unfortunately for me, he fancied a fourth ; 
 and cruel artists have covered it with their brain- 
 and-hand-labours. 
 
 Corragio then ! Gee up, old dobbin ! Lo ! he 
 pricks up his ears at the sight of those vigorous 
 dogs in the turnip field. (67. " Pointers, to ho ! " 
 Ed. Landseer.) They are indeed well drawn, full 
 of vitality and acuteness : but they demand 
 strength of chiaroscuro tone, appropriately coloured
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 123 
 
 backgrounds, to give them value : and I don't 
 think that their hinder quarters are very charac- 
 teristically touched ; the surface is rather satinny 
 than " crinite" and the whole picture wants 
 solidity and breadth. " The Lion disturbed at his 
 Repast " (78, by the same) labours under a similar 
 ignorance of the art of making up the picture. The 
 lion's head is sadly deficient in nobility ; and the 
 snake reminds me too much of a large eel. Sound 
 knowledge of anatomy is displayed in the nervous, 
 sinewy paws of the savage ; and his furry coat and 
 coarse mane are ably touched. The antelope, as 
 far as execution goes, deserves praise ; but its large 
 glazing eye, blood-shotten with agony, and the 
 gore-choaked mouth, so lately fragrant with the 
 dewy herb, presents to the healthy eye not " an 
 image of legitimate terror, but of frigid horror." 
 Stark has two very superior landscapes, (69 and 
 76) ; but eulogy of mine is vain, after the approval 
 of that able judge, Thos. Phillips, Esq., E.A., who 
 has given the highest proof of his admiration by 
 purchasing " The Grove Scene" (76.) 
 
 I would fain now say something about Martin's 
 Feast but it is impossible to see it at present ; 
 for a mob of fancied connoisseurs, the sounding 
 dogmatism of whose remarks is equitably balanced 
 by their emptiness and folly so have the good- 
 ness to cast your eyes up on the right of it here ! 
 That is a very tasteful, gentle thing, is it not, 
 very pleasingly coloured without affectation ? (74. 
 Composition from a description of Pcestum.) The 
 inventor, Arnald, A.R.A. has lately made some
 
 124 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 most interesting and clever views on the Rhine 
 and Meuse (published, I think, by Messrs. Rod- 
 well and Martin, or Hurst and Robinson) ; and I 
 gladly take this opportunity of recommending 
 strenuously the work of an industrious, improving, 
 sterling artist. I had thought to have given it a 
 more detailed notice before this ; but I will not 
 neglect it long. I am at present dreadfully in 
 arrear with regard to embellished publications, x 
 and I feel myself bound to make an apology for 
 such neglect to their respective proprietors ; for, in 
 my opinion, he who has any power, however small, 
 of commending obscure merit to due honour, and 
 does it not, commits an act of injustice. His exer- 
 tions, it is true, may not contribute to " the crea- 
 ture-comforts " of the object of his care ; but is 
 genuine, unbought sympathy, and a knowledge 
 that its powers are appreciated, nothing to the 
 sensitive mind ? Does not judicious uninterested 
 praise flow softly, like honey-dew, on the lacerated 
 heart of the poet and artist, drowning past slights 
 and difficulties in Lethe's dull lake ? Say no 
 longer, then, mental sluggard, that tlwu can'st profit 
 nothing. Patient, spurned genius, if thy wrestlings 
 on its behalf with worldlings do not achieve every 
 thing, still they may do much. They may pre- 
 serve it from the fate of Kirke White and that 
 shining meteor, John Keats. 
 
 1 In the mean while, let me counsel the admirer of 
 beautiful scenery to purchase W. Westall's cheap and faith- 
 ful Views of the Lalces. Three numbers, folio.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 125 
 
 They may keep its bright flame burning clear to the last. 
 
 Mr. Barrett's Wood Scene with Cattle (91) is 
 poetical, reposing, and very obnoxious to the fol- 
 lowing neglected picturesque lines by Mr. Leigh 
 Hunt. 
 
 O shady spots of ground 
 
 What calmness ye strike round, 
 Hushing the soul as if with hand on lips ! 
 And are ye seen then but of animal eyes, 
 Prone, or side-looking with a blank surmise ? 
 
 O ye, whom ancient wisdom, in its graces, 
 Made guardians of these places ; 
 
 You finer people of the earth, 
 
 Nymphs of all names, and woodland Geniuses, 
 
 I see you, here and there, among the trees, 
 
 This hum in air, which the still ear perceives, 
 Is your unquarrelling voice among the leaves. 
 And now I find, whose are the laughs and stirrings 
 That make the delicate birds dart so in whisks and whir- 
 rings. 
 
 There are the fair-limbed Dryads, who love nooks 
 In the dry depth of oaks, 
 Or feel the air in groves, or pull green dresses 
 For their glad heads in rooty wildernesses, 
 Or on the golden turf, o'er the dark lines, 
 Which the sun makes when he declines, 
 Bend their white dances in and out the pines.
 
 126 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Too far for me to see, the Limniad takes 
 
 Her pleasure in the lakes. 
 
 She, that with hills about her, loves to be 
 
 At once at home and at her liberty. 
 
 Far off I fancy, 'twixt their bowery isles, 
 
 Her and her sisters playing their sweet wiles 
 
 About a boat, which one of them sits in 
 
 And will not let them win ; 
 
 Till comes a sudden gust, and parts them with new smiles. 
 
 Nor can I see the lightsome-footed maids, 
 The Oreads, that frequent the lifted mountains ; 
 Though by the Muse's help I still might shew, 
 How some go leaping by the laughing fountains 
 Down the touched crags ; and some o'er deep ravines 
 Sit listening to the talking streams below ; 
 And some in sloping glades 
 Of pines lie musing l 
 
 I break the tenth commandment when I luxu- 
 riate on the sight of this rich landscape, so I will 
 tear myself away. 
 
 The, Interior of a Cottage (99), S. W. Reynolds, 
 is quite a minikin Rembrandt. This gentleman 
 has several other very clever bits. 
 
 Cupid and Psyche (109), Etty. This artist's 
 study and practice have been intense, and out of 
 all proportion to the results. Power of pencil, 
 agreeable surface, firmness of touch, pulp, and a 
 systematic plan of colour may be acquired, and 
 these he has : but that transcribing the common 
 limbs of the Academy model will not instil into 
 the mind images of beauty, dignity and high 
 pathos, nor servile copies from the antique create 
 invention, he is an instructive living proof. The 
 
 1 Foliage, 1818, p. vi xiii.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 127 
 
 heads of Amor and Psyche would he vulgar if they 
 were not mawkish, and disarm critical severity by 
 meek imbecility. The drawing is feeble, the han- 
 dling and colouring of the figures shadowy ; and 
 [they] consort ill with the common unraised hu- 
 manity of their forms, which are little better than 
 Albert Durer's famous Adam and Eve, only more 
 fleshy, gristly, or rather woolly. Yet, with all 
 these defects, the painting has great merit in its 
 class, which is what Vasari calls the ornamental : 
 the silver clouds invite by their pillowy fleeciness 
 and sunny warmth and there is quite a touch of 
 poetry in the gorgeous colour of Cupid's pinions : 
 
 Celestial plumes ! That not like mortal hairs 
 
 Fall off or change. 
 
 Gary's Dante. 
 
 The best picture of Etty's for invention and 
 expression that ever I saw, was his Drunken 
 Barnaby. I trust he has sold his Hercules and 
 the Man of Calydon, as well as his Pandora ; if, 
 however, this last brilliant sketch remains in his 
 atelier, and its price would come within my limited 
 means, I should like to have it. Christmas's Puss 
 in Danger (108) is a very terrific thing. The grim 
 demon of a bull-dog, who interrupts the cat in her 
 unhallowed dalliance with the rat, has some an- 
 alogy in my fancy with Lanciotto, Lord of Eimini, 
 scaring the Lovers from their forbidden delight. 
 It will make a kind of companion to Fuseli's cele- 
 brated picture, now I believe at Liverpool. 
 
 I begin to find myself overstepping my Editor-
 
 128 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 prescribed limits (/ am not the Editor I wish I 
 was), and I must intreat those gentlemen, who may 
 imagine they are slighted, to consider the brevity 
 of my notices as occasioned, not by their want of 
 merit, but my want of space. And first, if I was 
 sufficiently grateful for the pleasure I received 
 from Mr. Willes's delicious Landscape-composition 
 from, the Electra of Sophocles (114), I should fill 
 three pages. As it is, all I can say is, that its 
 sweet remembrance will, I trust, bear me not in- 
 frequent from the yellow bricks of St. James's to 
 the wild shores of inhospitable Tauris, lashed by 
 " the savourie brine." Gandy's Landscape compo- 
 sition from Collins 's Third Eclogue (142) is full of 
 fancy, beauty, and singularity. I like his draw- 
 ings far better than his oil pictures. I grieve that 
 I can only name Hofland's River Usk (163) and 
 young Landseer's capital picture of the Rival Can- 
 didates (two dogs contending for a stick thrown 
 into the water by some shepherd boys). Mrs. 
 Carpenter's Italian Peasant Girl manifests a very 
 gentle taste and sweet feeling for beauty a great 
 scarcity in this exhibition. I can safely say the 
 same for my favourite De Wint's Ambleside Mill 
 (168). There seems now a little opening to 
 Martin's Picture, and I am expected to say some- 
 thing about that which has created so great an. 
 interest. If I have time, I will return to Hilton's 
 Penelope and Ulysses, though it is as well for him 
 that I should not ; for at present I must say that 
 his powers are in a state of stagnation. " Ebony ! 
 O Gold ! " as Theocritus says on a different occa-
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 129 
 
 sion, here is the Black Frame and its gull-gathering 
 contents ! I must request the compositor for a 
 new paragraph. 
 
 So ! Well, how ! Shall I speak out, or not ? 
 " Aye ! it is sold, you see, and to a brother artist, 
 Collins, E. A ! ! " Bravo ! That's fine ! it warms 
 the heart, and gives the lie nobly to those fellows, 
 reputation's blow-flies, who buzz about with 
 festering whispers of the envy of rivals. "But 
 what of the picture ? " Frankly then, it does not 
 please me, if considered as an embodying of the 
 passage in Daniel. Martin succeeds best when 
 every thing is left to his own imagination ; which 
 circumstance alone is no mean proof of his talents. 
 His Adam and Eve thrust through the rocky 
 wall of Eden (a landscape-composition) was heart- 
 quelling and sublime ; but the " blasted heath," 
 in his Macbeth, was completely missed. It had 
 none of that vast, illimitable-black-level barren- 
 ness which stamps on the mind such a chilling 
 image of bleakness and desolation, mingled with 
 curdling awe ; but, on the contrary, was cut up 
 into a thousand littlenesses, which peremptorily 
 arrested the sweep of the eye. Some of the hol- 
 lows looked like gravel pits; there were bare 
 patches whence turf had been cut for Mr. Any- 
 Body's Garden ; and, bating the mountains and 
 lake which seemed very much ashamed of them- 
 selves, it put me in mind of Hampstead Heath in 
 the winter. Neither did the sky make any 
 amends ; it was fidgetted, tattered, fantastic, and 
 petty : when it should have been massy, simple in 
 K
 
 130 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 its forms, sulphurous, thunder-charged, louring, 
 and ominous. The tone was feeble and without 
 gusto, the colouring weak, chalky, inappropriate, 
 and the figures both in conception and execution 
 ludicrous, only that one grieved to see a clever 
 man so mistaking his powers. Notwithstanding 
 these objections, one little alteration would have 
 rendered it an extraordinary production, viz. 
 simply eracing the figures from the canvas, and 
 the misnomer of " Macbeth, and the Weird Sisters" 
 from the catalogue : leaving the spectator to assign 
 to it what sentiment seemed most just. His 
 " Sadak " (exhibited some years ago) was a true 
 offspring of legitimate terror ; but excited little or 
 no attention. Joshua had very great merit. I 
 never saw his Sack of Babylon ; but I was satis- 
 fied of its general demerits by a panegyric on it, 
 written, I was told, by a Flower Painter, who 
 teaches at an " Establishment for Young Ladies ! " 
 Is it not dreadful to think that an artist's bread 
 may hang on the fiat of such necessarily unskilled, 
 incompetent, and generally uneducated folks, with 
 their little confined notions of art ? I have always 
 been a warm, and, I trust, judicious advocate of 
 Martin's fair fame, and never till this present 
 have I either written or spoken one word detract- 
 ing therefrom ; but the mischievous, hyperbolic 
 trumpetings of his friends (not one of them, I 
 verily believe, values him half so truly as myself) 
 have forced from me the foregoing observations ; 
 and if the ensuing shall prove equally distasteful 
 to him, he must lay the sin to their account, not
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 131 
 
 to mine. I shall not go about to describe it, 
 that has been done to satiety in all the public 
 prints ; suffice it to say, that the whole scene 
 seems to me rather a theatrical pageant a pre- 
 sentment of unknown fire works before a barbaric 
 Prince (a king of Ashantee for instance), of which 
 the old black figure standing on the table, like a 
 speaker at the Freemason's, is showman than the 
 arena of a real courage-blasting portent. There is 
 too much bustle, noise, hubbub and screaming, for 
 any real supernatural awe. It is either common 
 affrightment or mere simulation. The groups are 
 only groups in the last scene of a melo-drama. 
 These gaudy minions have self-possession enough 
 to hurry and scamper, as if from a mad ox or dog. 
 Belshazar himself stands in an imposing attitude 
 firm on his legs ; but what says our weighty, ma- 
 jestic translation of Daniel. "Then the king's 
 countenance was changed, and his thoughts trou- 
 bled him so that the joints of his loins were loosed ; 
 and his knees smote one against the other" Has 
 Mr. Martin any thing in his whole picture, which 
 harmonizes with this noble passage ? Does it not 
 at once render his women Bartlemy dolls, and 
 men, wire-strung puppets ? Now let us consider 
 the tone (colour Martin never had, and it would be 
 useless to upbraid him with the want). His forte 
 lies quite another way ; which is a knack of in- 
 cluding a multiplicity of small parts, animate or 
 inanimate, in some enormous area, natural or arti- 
 ficial. The tone then is most decidedly inappro- 
 priate and unfeeling ; more befitting a gala passing 
 K 2
 
 132 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 off pleasantly, than the scene of a soul-chilling 
 prodigy. Instead of dimness, a bloodless pallor, a 
 mental blight visible, as it were, to the corporeal 
 senses (often seen in the magic visions of Van 
 Eyn and Fuseli), ornaments of gold, crowns, and 
 circlets, losing their richness, emeralds and rubies 
 their colour and glow, and diamonds their sparkle 
 instead of this, I say, which would have shown 
 the genuine poet, the possessor of " that power 
 which draws all things to one which makes 
 things animate and inanimate, take one colour, and 
 serve to one effect :" instead of this, Ophir has 
 poured forth her gold, and " the farthermost steep 
 of India " its jewels, to blaze out with their most 
 dazzling effulgence in the very face of the fiery 
 warning ; mating themselves with the sunbeams, 
 mocking the watery moon. Mr. Martin may even 
 now mend all this much, by embrowning the fore- 
 ground witli a solemn, dusky glaze, through whose 
 mysterious veil his laboured argentry may " gleam 
 without shining." Better still would it be for him, 
 if he could make up his mind to paint out all his 
 little abortions, and renounce the ambition of be- 
 coming an historical painter ; for which his pro- 
 fessional education has in no ways qualified him, 
 as his futile attempts on the human figure lament- 
 ably show. There is something more : the prophet 
 says, " In the same hour came forth the fingers of 
 a man's hand, and the king saw the part of the 
 hand that wrote ! " Did not Mr. Martin see that 
 the omission of this circumstance was fatal to his 
 power of conveying the story ? Can he fancy that
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 133 
 
 his illuminated range of windows (meant for the 
 dreadful MENE, MENE, TEKEL UPHARSIN) renders it 
 evident ? A foolish suggestion, I am told, is 
 hazarded in the Literary Gazette, viz. that none 
 saw the hand but the king ; but, granting this, what 
 has it to do with the spectator of the picture ? 
 The poet can let you know, that there was an in- 
 visible hand ; but the painter, who works with 
 very different materials, must show it, or let the 
 story alone. The Bible says, that the Satraps were 
 astonied at the king. This chain of terror is ex- 
 actly similar to the idea in Poussin's landscape, 
 with the man who catches fear from the counte- 
 nance of the woman at the spring, without be- 
 holding the object of her horror. This mode of 
 treating Belshazar's vision would have a grand 
 and impressive effect : not indeed novel, being 
 adopted by Shakspeare into his Banquet scene 
 with the ghost in Macbeth. 
 
 The magicians and soothsayers may be supposed 
 to see the awful letters through the powers always 
 poetically admitted to them. 
 
 Chaldea's seers were good 
 * * * * 
 
 And Babel's men of age 
 Are wise and deep in lore. 
 
 I have now done with finding fault ; an odious 
 task at all times : it curseth doubly, the finder and 
 the findee. If these honestly-meant strictures 
 meet the eye of Mr. Martin, let him consider me 
 not as a discourager, but as one who earnestly
 
 134 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 wishes to guide his genius into a safer track to the 
 temple of honour. I wished to have indulged 
 myself in descanting on the accuracy of his per- 
 spective powers and the shadowy beauty of his 
 distance ; but, gentle reader, " my pen is at the 
 bottom of the page," as Beppo says, and I dare be 
 sworn thou art glad of it. Be it so ; the critic 
 must be criticised ; but be thy judgment pro- 
 nounced in the same spirit in which mine has ; 
 for be assured of it, pleasure has waited on my 
 praise, and sorrow mingled with my censure. 
 " Judex damnatur cum nocens absolvitur/' as the 
 blue and brimstone cover on the back of the 
 Edinburgh Eeview has it ; but still, though as a 
 judge I must pass sentence, my heart often weeps 
 while I pronounce it : the hill of fame is steep and 
 rugged, and foul befall the wretch who would un- 
 necessarily encumber the child of genius, as he 
 toils up its acclivity !
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 135 
 
 EXHIBITION OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY. 1 
 
 HERE BEGYNNETH A TEDIOUS, BRIEF TRACTATE ON 
 $e lExfnbttton, 
 
 ENAMELLED WITH SUNDRIE STRAUNGE CONCEITES VERY 
 PLEASAUNT TO REDE. 
 
 If my prologue tedious seem, 
 Or the rest too long they deem, 
 Let them know my love they win, 
 Though they go, ere I begin, 
 Just as if they should attend me 
 Till the last, and then commend me. 
 For I will, for no man's pleasure, 
 
 Change a syllable ; 
 
 Neither, for their praises, add 
 Aught to mend what they think bad; 
 Pedants shall not tie my phrase 
 To our antique author's ways, 
 Since it never was my fashion, 
 To make work of recreation. 
 
 This, or so7nething like it, is in George Wither. 
 
 I HAVE a great notion that this article should 
 have been written last month. " Aye ! marry, 
 should it, Mr. F. A. ! that's already proved ; and 
 it will go nigh to be suspected so, shortly. Was 
 not the late weather bad enough for the quivering 
 nerves of your patients (prefix a syllable, friend ! 
 go on!) without enacting the Cyclops, hanging 
 over them with hand uncertain where to choose, 
 whetting your teeth with horrid delight, swallow- 
 
 [* London Magazine, July, 1821.]
 
 136 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 ing up the fattest with the eye of your oesophagus 
 for a whole month together ? Go to ! thou art a 
 naughty invisible, an unpunctual mystery ! " 
 " Nay ! gracious Fractioso ! I am always true as a 
 toledo to the appointed day." " Yea, but it may 
 be that, with the worthy Mr. Eamsden, thou dost 
 sometimes err a little in the month." "Good ! you 
 burn, as the children say at Hoodman blind" Now, 
 to proceed : I detest two parts out of the three, 
 into which every discourse naturally divides itself : 
 viz. the beginning and the end^and, again, of 
 these two abominations, the latter is with me in the 
 worst odour. To begin is a great exertion. I have 
 made many attempts to jump over this seed or root, 
 as it were, of an article, and have essayed to com- 
 mence in the middle, as the Irish say ; but with 
 no success ; and I find nothing so proper, as a nice, 
 short, paradoxical sentence, after the theory of my 
 old Scotch usher and the practice of our Mr. Table 
 Talk. 1 This sentence induces another of greater 
 length, wherein the plot thickens ; a third com- 
 pletes the climax of obscurity, and forms commonly 
 at once a paragraph and a proem. By this time, 
 hand and pen are warmed, ideas and ink flow 
 freely, and hurry skurry on we go, " over park, 
 over pale, through bush, through briar," struggle 
 toughly up the hills, swoop triumphantly down 
 the dales, and dash through the hissing torrent, 
 with the heart of Achilles, or William of Deloraine, 
 and with the eagle-conquering speed of Burger's 
 ghostly heavy dragoon ! But now, as we approach 
 the goal (the ninth folio of foolscap), dark fears 
 
 t 1 Hazlitt.]
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 137 
 
 come across me, how to arrest my flaming course. 
 Now I do envy Lieut. Hatchway's anchorage in 
 the clover field, nay, even the son of Kehama, 
 for whose landing Mr. Southey has provided as 
 effectually, if not quite so pleasantly : 
 
 On on they roll, rapt headlong they roll on, 
 
 ****** 
 On on they roll, and now, with shivering shock 
 Are dashed against the rock that girds the pole, 
 Down from his shatter'd mail the unhappy soul 
 Is dropt ten thousand thousand fathoms down, 
 Till in an ice-rift 'mid the eternal snow, 
 Foul Arvalan is stopt. 
 
 There was a stop, my countrymen ! 
 
 But the Editor's trumpet sounds Halt ! my pen 
 is bond fide pulled up into line ; this manoeuvre, 
 however, being performed on the fore legs, in- 
 stead of the haunches, the master is in danger of 
 tasting the grass, three feet beyond the nose of his 
 steed. 
 
 I trusted, by this time, to have got upon my sub- 
 ject, as the composers say, but my will backs as 
 obstinately as a cat, 1 and this arises from my in- 
 capability of fashionable feelings. For 
 
 When the flowers are appearing 
 In the blythe month of May ; 
 
 and the smooth-shaven elastic lawns are smothered 
 with lilacs and laburnams ; when 
 
 1 I assure the ignorant in domestic natural history, that 
 this simile is as eminently proper for its truth, as any thing 
 in the Chian, and, to the best of my belief, equally novel.
 
 138 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 the bees 
 
 Hum about globes of clover and sweet peas ; 
 
 and the early birds shake away the moisture from 
 the young twigs, in a " roarie " shower : then must 
 I away from the suffocating streets and the dusty 
 trees in the Park to the odorous pheasant-haunted 
 groves of * * *, with its birch-covered steeps 
 and bashful stream : and let the " monster London 
 laugh at me," as Cowley says, it shall find it a 
 hard task to draw me voluntarily back again. At 
 this season, I change my nature, and feel most 
 intimately the connexion between the animal and 
 vegetable world nay, more than half of me to the 
 latter doth belong ; water is as necessary as air : 
 a soaking shower re-invigorates me, and washes 
 away the black vapours of the brain my winter- 
 likings and town enjoyments slide out of place, 
 and seem to me great vanity and dross even my 
 selection of books must harmonize with the time 
 of year. Homer loses considerably with me, and 
 is postponed to the Georgics : I can read a little 
 of Wordsworth's Excursion, most of his White 
 Doe, and many of his Miscellaneous Poems. 
 Browne's pastorals find favour, and the song of 
 the Nibelungen is laid aside. I have an utter 
 distaste for Pope, and a most marvellous cling- 
 ing to Chaucer's fragrant lusty descriptions of 
 May scenery. 1 I wear out the boards of an Isaac 
 Walton, with his pious chansons, every summer, 
 
 1 See his Flower and Leaf, Complaint of the Black Knight, 
 &c. &c.
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 139 
 
 and thumb the Fairy Queen most notably. (How 
 can any poetical mind find it tedious ?) With 
 books like these, I can trifle away the summer 
 hours, not without opportunities of benefiting 
 others the contemplative life preferring to the 
 active ; esteeming it, with old Chapman, " much 
 more manly and sacred, in harmless and pious 
 study, to sit till I sink into my grave, than to 
 shine in our vain-glorious bubbles and impieties." 
 
 I said a little way back, that my tastes and 
 likings seemed changed at this time. During the 
 drizzlings of November and February, and the 
 east winds of March, I enter with great gusto into 
 the amusements of town. I see all new exhibi- 
 tions ; hear all new singers ; frequent the sacred 
 Argyll, the Cyder Cellar, the Opera, Long's, 
 Colnaghi's, and the Coal-hole, I pore over Fini- 
 guerra's and Marc Antonios ; rummage carefully 
 the catalogue of Messrs. * * * and * * * 1 
 &c. for old bokes, read one or two new ones, write 
 articles, and inspect one magazine (the London), 
 three reviews, one Sunday paper, and six weekly 
 ditto. The Fine Arts now more especially sway 
 me ; and if the fit did not have an end, I should 
 be in a fair way to go mad with enthusiasm. When 
 I am seated on a comfortable Ottoman, under the 
 light of my lamp, with a friend or two of con- 
 genial habits, having my books before me in their 
 mahogany sanctuary crowned with some casts, 
 
 f 1 Probably Payne and Foss. The latter was one of his 
 trustees.]
 
 140 ESSAYS AN!) CRITICISMS. 
 
 full-sized, from antique busts and vases, statues 
 round me, and the perfume of greenhouse plants 
 from the ante-room; when pictures regale my 
 eyes ; and the full sound of the harp and piano, 
 with sweet voices from the inner room, my ears ; 
 when my tables groan with the weight of volumes 
 of Eaffaelle, Michael Angelo, Kubens, Poussin, 
 Parmegiano, Giulio, &c. &c. and the massive 
 portfolio cases open wide their doors, disclosing 
 yet fresh treasures within ; then do I riot in im- 
 measurable delight I am great as Sardanapalus 
 I hold Sir Epicure Mammon in contempt I 
 am a concentration of all the Sultans in the Arab- 
 ian Nights. Everything and every body seem 
 coleur de rose ! the coffee is exquisitely fragrant ; 
 the salver and spoons become gilt, the Worcester 
 china, the rarest oriental. My interesting young 
 friend * * * is Menelaus' Helen and the 
 Maraschino, flaming and dancing in its crystal 
 bounds, becomes Nepenthes. But great pleasure 
 is as troublesome as pain ; and unable to fix calmly, 
 I wander restlessly from the Delphic Sybil of 
 M. Angelo to the Pietro Martire of Tiziano from 
 the 16 of Coreggio, to the admirable Ecce Homo 
 of Rembrandt, from the weighty stanzas of the 
 Vatican, to the fiery gallery of the Luxembourg 
 and from the voluptuous reveries and terrific 
 dreams of Fuseli to the chaste monastic scenes of 
 La Sceur, or the simple innocence of Bonasoni, not 
 having admiration enough wherewithal to admire. 
 
 All this flies before the swallow. I babble of 
 green fields, and run to them, while town gaiety is
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 141 
 
 at its height. I lose all relish for artificial exist- 
 ence : criticisms loathing, abjuring theatres, French 
 dishes, French wines, and French fashions : reject- 
 ing ornament : scorning all gems : 
 
 Save what the dewy morn 
 Congeals upon each little spire of grass, 
 Which careless shepherds beat down as they pass. 
 
 Wotton or Raleigh 
 
 And when quietly bosomed in my cottage with the 
 lady of my heart, I view the bright rim of the 
 moon rising above the dark bosky screens on the 
 steeps high above me, I would not exchange the 
 distant bark of the dog for the full tones of Charles 
 Young or Macready ; the fresh odours wafted 
 through my casement (guiltless of stained glass), 
 for the Persian perfumes of Lady * * * * *, nor 
 the faint roar of the unseen water-mill, for the 
 dulcet voices of sweet Kate, our Salmon, nor even 
 Camporese ; and much less for that of Madam 
 Marinone or Signer de Begni. Eossini I care not 
 much for; Beethoven moves me not; Paer hath 
 but little power, and even Mozart but no ! amid 
 this scenery his "magic flute" breathes more wildly, 
 and "Ah perdona " pierces the heart with a still 
 deeper pang of harmonious love. I have been 
 watching the frolics of the lambs all day, and at 
 night regret not the slender elegance of Milanie, 
 the voluptuous agility of Noblet, nor the astonish- 
 ing ease and precision of Fanny Bias ! Pictures 
 and prints affect me but little, excepting those of 
 Claude, Kubens, Poussin, Euysdael, Wilson, Turner,
 
 142 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Collins, the drawings of W. Daniel and De Wint, 
 or the etchings of Waterloo, Vivares, Kolbe, 1 G. and 
 W. Cooke, not forgetting the faithful aquatintas of 
 W. Westall. Nested serene in this cool greenery, 
 I am contented to sit unknown to fame and its 
 concomitant detraction ; coveting nothing so little 
 as the task of writing an article on the Exhibi- 
 tion, with its unsavoury associations of heat and 
 smother. 
 
 Nevertheless, here I am in London ; have been 
 twice to Somerset House ; and now I must flourish 
 my goose feather. What a miserable wretch is he 
 who hath the practice of painting; and how 
 doubly miserable to be obliged to show it in criti- 
 cisms ! Instead of placidly admiring, like the 
 happy ignorant in these matters, the pictures which 
 please him, he worries himself and others to death 
 about some error in perspective, some weakness in 
 drawing, a slight deficiency in keeping, or some 
 unhappiness in the touch or surface, which no one 
 else in the world can see but himself. I myself 
 am as bigoted to all this delightful trumpery as 
 anybody ever was ; yet I loathe writing on it ; still 
 it must be done. I must show my science, or the 
 scavans will deem me incapable, and my reputation 
 as a judge is blasted. Others, again, will call it 
 
 1 An admirable German artist, whose style of touching 
 gnarled oaks age-mossed, and fore-grounds in general, sur- 
 passes the English even in a greater degree than they in 
 their turn excel the French. If the reader doubt this, let 
 him walk to Colnaghi's or Molteno's, and compare Kolbe's 
 etchings with the Lithography of Mr. Hofland.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 143 
 
 " affectations," and my popularity goes out like the 
 snuff of a rushlight. This is Scylla and Charybdis. 
 I shall accommodate my style to both parties and 
 the respective pictures. 
 
 I must be allowed another objection or two. In 
 noticing the works of contemporaries, it is difficult, 
 if not impossible, for the honestest mind to 
 separate prejudices from genuine opinions. I would 
 cut off my forefinger (of the left hand) to be impar- 
 tial, yet I never can satisfy myself that I am so. 
 With several of our greatest artists I have the 
 honour to be acquainted, and love sees no faults. 
 If I remark on the apparent deficiencies of * * * 
 or * * * *, it is not that these deficiencies are 
 offensive to me ; but I have a morbid sensitiveness 
 for their fame, which leads me to look with the eyes 
 of the hard and inimical, so to prevent their unfeel- 
 ing and brutal sneers. 
 
 Things that spring up under my nose dazzle 
 me. I must look at them through Time's Tele- 
 scope. Elia complains that to him the merit of 
 a MS. poem is uncertain ; "print" as he ex- 
 cellently says, "settles it." Fifty years' toning 
 does the same thing to a picture. It is very 
 possible, that Sir Thomas Lawrence and Phillips, 
 and Owen, are as good in their way as Vandyke 
 (and they have certainly less affectation). Wilkie 
 may be better than Teniers, and Westall be as 
 much the originator of a style as Coreggio. I 
 really believe our posterity will think so ; but in 
 the mean time I am dubious and uncomfortable. 
 I have not the most distant notion of the re-
 
 144 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 lative merits of Claude and Turner, and am 
 truly mystified by Stotliard and Fuseli. The tre- 
 mendous Vision of the Lazar House, by the latter, 
 is a perfect staggerer, whether we regard the 
 vigorous conception, the scientific composition, 
 the daring locking together of the principal group, 
 the harmonious colour, the grandeur of the draw- 
 ing, the propriety of the tone, the breadth of 
 chiaroscuro, or the successful impetuosity of his 
 raging pencil. 
 
 If the reader anticipates a detailed account of 
 the pictures in general, or even of those which he 
 may deem the most prominent, he will be dis- 
 appointed. Even if he should find me rather 
 discussing the characteristic features of the artist's 
 mind, than the immediate emanation of it before us, 
 he must look to my motto, and be content ; if not, 
 let him turn to the Literary Gazette, or the 
 Morning Herald, or any thing else he likes better. 
 The great reason for being general instead of 
 particular, is, that my memory is not retentive 
 enough to carry away the pictures from Somerset 
 House, home ; there are too many of them : one 
 drives out the other all balance is lost. It is a 
 scramble, where big Ben and tufty Tamburlane 
 are sure to have the best of it. A Lord Mayor or 
 Alderman in his gown will knock me down six 
 cabinet Stothards. A bay horse, with a pea- 
 green back ground, slays the guilty Eriphile over 
 again. William Daniel is suffocated with the 
 smell of a monstrous cabbage from nature, and a 
 whole-length Knight of the Bath or military hero
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 145 
 
 in vermillion, shall trample into oblivion twenty 
 heads by Phillips and Owen, the noble pair of 
 friendly rivals. All this battling for popularity 
 muddles my brains, and I sit down to my work 
 without any precise ideas of what I am going to 
 say. I can hold forth for an hour on Titian or 
 Parmegiano, or Primaticcio ; and will draw out off- 
 hand, very correctly, the Creation of Adam by 
 M. Angelo, the Abraham and Isaac of Vecelli, the 
 St. Girolamo of Mazzuolo, or Raffaello's Judgment 
 of Paris; nay, for Mr. Weathercock's favourite 
 Eembrandt, I could dash it out in chiaroscuro 
 blindfold, because I am gloating on the engravings 
 from these masters all day long. I think I can 
 do nearly as much for several pictures in the last 
 year's exhibition ; but the present is about as an 
 agreeable confusion to me as Ariosto on the first 
 perusal. But to begin in good earnest. Lo ! here 
 is that useful member of the Academy, Samuel 
 Stronger, with his gracious nod there, dark under 
 the stream of light, rests Alcides (of whom some 
 Newton in anatomy found out the other day that 
 the muscles were more charged and exaggerated 
 than his own pitiful models) ; and before me winds 
 the stair, with ladies ascending and descending, 
 like the Angels in Jacob's dream. " With your 
 leave, good Sir, Madam, or Miss, I will halt on 
 the first floor, and enter the Library." 
 
 Let us look at 1080, by Gandy. It is an imi- 
 tation of Piranesi's Capriccios, consisting of various 
 friezes and pieces of plate, and is very fanciful 
 but wants keeping, solidity and breadth, in the 
 L
 
 146 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 chiaroscuro : for this class of subjects demands the 
 greatest attention to mechanicals. I would just 
 as soon have this artist's Mount of Judgment, 
 which he exhibited several years agone, as Martin's 
 elshazy.r ; and there was an invention still 
 farther back (by the same hand, I believe), which 
 struck me very much the Interior of the Temple 
 of Jupiter at El.is, as described by Pausanias. 
 I'll follow you into the Antique Academy, if you 
 please, where we have a great curiosity, the first 
 paper sketch ever publicly exhibited by Fuseli 
 (530), The Deliverance of Prometheus, a grand com- 
 position ; as which of the professor's is not ? I 
 never saw anything finer than the startled eagle, 
 " the winged hound of Jove," heaving his ruffled 
 plumes over the enduring Titan. An abyss yawns 
 between him and the deliverer, who rises on the 
 opposite peak bearing his deep-roaring bow. The 
 round moon shines out broadly without a cloud 
 on the ghastly scenery, whose blank desolation is 
 unbroken by a shrub, a stump, a weed, or even a 
 pebble. There is not an unnecessary or extra- 
 neous particle about this conception ; as its parts 
 are simple, so its whole is tremendous. This is 
 the way to imitate and rival M. Angelo ; by in- 
 vestigating his principles, and daringly acting on 
 them ; not pursuing the course of Pellegrino 
 Tibaldi, 1 by copying the peculiarities of his design, 
 
 1 I have not forgotten " that wonder of foreshortening, 
 of conglobation and eccentricity," the Elpenor on the Archi- 
 trave (O8iW. K. 552. 'EXir^ixap 5e rts e<r/ce veuraros, &C.) ; nor
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 147 
 
 or pilfering an attitude beyond the strength of 
 the plagiarist to manage. I wish the room had 
 been farther enriched by this inexhaustible inven- 
 tor's Prometheus Vinctus, or Achilles' Vision of 
 Heaven, with the corpse of the dusky Merftnon in 
 the foreground ; or his large drawing of Siegfried 
 and the Linden-worm as it is, the admirers of 
 genius must be contented. I hear he is now busily 
 painting his Lycidas on a large scale (" What time 
 the grey-fly winds his sultry horn ") by commis- 
 sion : also the first appearance of Undine in the 
 Cottage of Ulrich. Sir T. Lawrence, who already 
 is the possessor of his voluptuous Expectation, The 
 Brunhild and Gunther, and Chriemhild weeping 
 over the Body of Siegfried in the Cathedral at 
 Worms, has purchased the Hero and Leander, 
 which composition a little resembles the rapturous 
 embrace of Adam and Eve after the transgression, 
 known by the large print of Mr. Haughton, the 
 able miniature painter. The expression, however, 
 of the Sestian maid is far more intense, and is in 
 its way second to no picture I ever saw. The 
 colouring I do not like ; but the character of the 
 wild sea is capitally seized you may fairly hear 
 
 Polyphemus groping at the entrance of his cave, " who is 
 truly, in the conception of the whole and in the detail of the 
 
 C's, a self-invented being : a form than which M. Angelo 
 self never conceived one of savage energy, provoked by 
 sufferings and revenge, with expression, attitude, and limbs 
 more in unison." The same being, waking under the 
 agony of the burning wimble, is energetic, if not original ; 
 but, in his Ulysses and Circe, I find nothing but posture. 
 
 L 2
 
 148 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 the wind roaring round the tower. I would give 
 a trifle for a feeling transcript of the priestess' 
 head. No. 559, North Country Mails at the Pea- 
 cock, Islington, is a singular example of what may 
 be done without the commonest notion of light 
 and shade. No. 583 is a frame containing four 
 views by Mr. Daniel for his Coasting Voyage : 
 a beautifully accurate and chaste work. The 
 enamels of Bone, E.A. and Muss are too well ap- 
 preciated to require notice here ; but I cannot pass 
 by the charming female portraits (812 and 869), 
 by the king of miniature painters, A. F. Chalon, 
 E.A. without expressing my admiration of their 
 freshness, beauty, ease, animation, harmony, and 
 masterly execution. This gentleman is not merely 
 the first in his profession, but nobody comes near 
 him by full six degrees of merit. Nevertheless, 
 the heads of Eobertson, Haughton, Newton, and 
 Hay ter, arc very clever ; and there is a young lady, 
 Miss L. Sharp, who promises to become shortly (if 
 she be not already) a most formidable rival to these 
 gentlemen. Be so good, my kind reader, to look at 
 her half length of dear Miss M. Tree (who has been 
 very ill, poor soul !) in Viola (868). Miss Eliza 
 Eeyriolds, too, seems getting on rapidly, in every 
 sense of the word : and there are two pretty oil 
 pictures by H. Corbould (494), and A. Perigal 
 (499). 
 
 My business is not with the obvious and palpable, 
 but with the neglected or misunderstood ; for 
 which reason I shall say little or nothing on 
 portrait, cattle, familiar landscape, or what we
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 149 
 
 term common life which subjects I find every 
 body comprehends better than myself. There 
 should be two of us one for " Ercles' vein," and 
 the other for the gusto of Holland. I never read 
 above eighteen pages of Mr. Crabbe's poems ; and 
 having no touch of humour or simple nature about 
 me, cannot relish above four or five of Mr. 
 Wilkie's pictures, of which I have the prints. 
 (The Rent Day, I esteem chiefly.) I look at them 
 coldly ; and instead of setting myself, as every 
 critic should do, to discover intellectual beauties, 
 I boggle at his colour. This is my fault, not his ; 
 and I love to hear him praised by a competent 
 judge heartily yes, i'faith, heartily. Mulready's 
 Careless Messenger (134), which I have heard 
 abused, hits my fancy stronger than either 131 or 
 37 by his great rival. I really feel this picture ; 
 which shows as much subtlety in expression, and 
 is more painterlike, than the far-famed Hind 
 fiddler ! The moiety of the kneeling boy's eye is 
 worth a whole Jew's eye so is the culprit's right 
 hand. I could say a monstrous deal about the 
 tall gawky lad leaning primly against the wall ; 
 and show every thing the painter intended not to 
 show in his face ; but there are many other pic- 
 tures I must attend to. 
 
 We are now in the great room, reader, where, if 
 you have no objection, we will sit down behind 
 this gay party, who seem to be dealing about their 
 remarks as freely as you and I do. " Whose is 
 that?" " Fuseli's." " La ! What a frightful 
 tiling ! I hate his fancies of fairies and spirits and
 
 150 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 nonsense. One can't understand them." (Speak 
 for yourself, miss !) " It's foolish to paint things 
 which nobody ever saw, for how is one to know 
 
 whether they're right ? Isn't it, Mr. D ? " 
 
 " Ha, ha ! Very good indeed 'pon my life, you're 
 very severe ! " What a pity that Fuseli should 
 not have known all this earlier in life, that he 
 might have abjured Oberon, and painted portraits 
 of ladies and joint stools. M. Angelo, Raffaello, 
 Giulio, &c. were equally ignorant, or they never 
 would have deluged us with such absurdities as 
 angels, cherubim, gods, nymphs, satyrs, and tritons, 
 creations just as ideal as the sylphs and satans of 
 Fuseli ; only a few hundred years have reconciled 
 us to them. This is sickening stuff, yet it is as 
 common as air. Stothard, whose taste of design is 
 the antipodes of the fiery Keeper, meets with just 
 as much misapprehension and contempt. For one 
 person who talks of the juicy Hilton, we have ten 
 who rave about Edwin Landseer and Captain 
 Jones. The elegant Westall and the classical 
 Howard are not much better off : and the spirited 
 illustrator of Homer, Hesiod, ><Eschylus, and Dante 
 is forgotten before the bust of Turnerelli, or the 
 ineffable fopperies of the effeminate Canova. 
 
 A little while ago some of the periodicals made 
 a stir about Thorsvaldsen. I turned over a large 
 volume of careful prints after the basso-relievos or 
 alto-relievos of this sculptor, without meeting any- 
 thing like an original thought or striking attitude. 
 The whole series was cold, commonplace, and 
 plagiaristic. Our countrymen are bitten, as they
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 151 
 
 were in Queen Bess's time, with a rage for every 
 thing foreign : they go to Paris and purchase ephe- 
 meral lithography, indecent miniatures, wretched 
 eye-cutting Napoleon medals, laborious brassy 
 unartist-like prints by Desnoyers; to Antwerp, 
 and gather mock Eubenses; and at Eome they 
 contract by the gross for counterfeit cameos, 
 modern antiques, oil pictures by M. Angelo (who 
 never painted but one in his life), copies from M. 
 Antonio, and thirty-times-retouched impressions 
 of the Last Supper and Transfiguration of Morghen 
 and the Vatican Stanzas of Volpato. These people 
 come home and fancy themselves patrons of the 
 Arts ! So they are, but not of the Fine Arts. 
 
 I don't know that there is any thing new to be 
 said on the portraits of Phillips and Owen ; every 
 body who has eyes or understanding knows that 
 they are excellent. I wish Mr. Jackson, who is 
 fond of imitation, would for once and for ever 
 imitate these two gentlemen, by getting down from 
 Sir Joshua's horse, and mounting one of his own : 
 it is an awkward thing to ride on the tail, and not 
 a little dangerous. At present he is fighting under 
 false colours, as it were ; and we are quite in the 
 dark as to his natural style, unless (which Titian 
 and Sir Thomas Lawrence forbid) Macready in 
 Macbeth is a specimen of it. Mr. J. will excuse 
 my remarks if he sees them, which is not likely ; 
 but really his portrait of the venerable Northcote 
 is so good that it is a great pity it is not better. 
 
 I should not have been so officious as to men- 
 tion the beautiful works of the President, if (as I
 
 152 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 am told) several of the Grub-street critics had 
 not presumed to criticise his Lord Londonderry 
 in a most ignorant style. I will venture to say, 
 that drapery never was more scientifically nor 
 more gracefully arranged than the proud robes" of 
 the Marquis ; and any one acquainted with the 
 practice of art knows this to be the test of taste : 
 the attitude is noble, and the drawing correct. 
 What, in the name of fortune, would these pre- 
 tenders have ? Can any one of them tell ? I 
 trow, not. His Princess Charlotte has been long 
 known by the delicate and masterly crayon draw- 
 ing in Colnaghi's inner room ; besides which, we 
 are daily expecting the final proof from the burin 
 of Mr. Golding. The expression of this ill-fated 
 lady's eyes is exquisite it is poetry it looks like 
 a dissolving air of Mozart it is Lord Byron's 
 idea, " the mind, the music breathing from her 
 face," painted. I write this from the recollection 
 of the drawing, which is my first love. 
 
 Lady L. LamUon is a perfect vision a thing for 
 a Nympholept to madden on and is at the 
 same time quite as like as necessary. Northcote's 
 Burial of the Princes in the Tower (22) is his best 
 work, and that in which he seems to have gone 
 most beyond his ordinary level. The print by 
 Skelton renders this fine thing well known. He 
 has another historical subject (217), The Marriage 
 of Richard Duke of York to the Lady Anne Mow- 
 Iray, (1477). 
 
 The little Watts Russels (271), by Phillips, is a 
 composition of great labour in the making up :
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 153 
 
 the coat of the dwarf poney is painted with sin- 
 gular felicity and richness of colour; so is the 
 peacock's starry train. The Murder of the Primate 
 Sharp, attended with such circumstances of cold- 
 blooded cruelty, is hardly a subject for recital, 
 except in history. The novelist has avoided it in 
 a most masterly manner in his Old Mortality; 
 but Mr. Allan was not so squeamish, and has 
 dragged out the daughter to witness the horrid 
 death-struggles of her silver-haired father. But 
 while I condemn Mr. Allan's choice of a sub- 
 ject, his general execution of it has my warm 
 and sincere commendation. Howard's Sabrina 
 (62) seems to want more action and energy. 
 It is surely altogether a little heavy, and does not, 
 in my opinion, come up to his picture from another 
 moment of the same story, exhibited at the British 
 Institution a year or two ago. It is a pity that 
 this last is not engraved ; it would be extremely 
 popular, both at home and abroad. His Titania, 
 curled amidst a world of virgin lilies, while her 
 nymph-like elves roll round in giddy wheel under 
 the wide moon's watery beams, was a lovely picture, 
 and deserved greater commemoration than it re- 
 ceived in a vignette to Ballantyne's Shakspeare. 
 The story of his Diomede and Cressida, in the same 
 book, is completely told, and the expressions are 
 at once tasteful and true. 
 
 Thomson's Bed-time (77) is elegant and domestic: 
 this gentleman's females are always very amiable 
 and womanly soft and dependent without tame- 
 ness, gentle without insipidity, and warm with-
 
 154 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 out immodesty. In hitting this delicate mark, he 
 excels even Stothard, whose girls sometimes " smell 
 most grievously of bread and butter," and degrade 
 simplicity into inanity. A Scene in Borrowdale, 
 by Collins (87) is very soothing and picturesque, 
 but seems a little more like Gainsborough's than 
 the artist's natural style ; perhaps he will take this 
 for a compliment I don't mean it for one. He 
 has a most delicious Morning on the Kentish Coast 
 (154), which I verily believe keeps the Exhibition 
 sweet and fresh ! This picture is genuine land- 
 scape and accurate topography. It is the offspring 
 of taste, feeling and skill, not of mere industry 
 and servile transcription. 
 
 Miss Landseer's View on the Grounds of Felix 
 Hall, Essex (112) is very well worth any one's 
 attention ; and there is one of the queerest little 
 pictures, in respect to colour, by Stothard, that 
 you ever saw (109) : ISancho relates to Don 
 Quixote the famous visionary Interview with 
 Dulcinea. It was very prettily engraved in 
 a small size by Raimbach for Mr. Sharp of 
 Piccadilly who, unfortunately for me, does not 
 retain a single impression. If any very cha- 
 ritable reader, who may possess Mr. S.'s edition 
 of the Spanish Don, would have the kindness 
 to cut out the four frontispieces, and send them 
 directed to " Cornelius van Virikbooms, care of 
 Messrs. Taylor and Hessey," I shall be duly thank- 
 ful (always provided they be not retouched) ; as I 
 am, and have been for some time, making a col- 
 lection of engravings from Stothard, and have not
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 155 
 
 at present more than 800 ; among which, however, 
 are Mr. Weathercock's favourite series from Robin- 
 son Crusoe, by Medland ! The smooth, spiritless, 
 modern repetitions, with the name of Charles 
 Heath, in Cadell's edition, I had, but have since 
 turned them out. 
 
 Now look up to the top of the room, and tell 
 me if the man who composed Ly sawder, Hermia, 
 and Puck, (27, Singleton,) ought not to paint a 
 thousand times better, and without such super- 
 abundance of manner and flimsiness ? One year's 
 occasional study from the antique, from the life, 
 and from Ludovico Caracci, would restore all. 
 
 That is a very splendid picture of the modest 
 Mr. Hilton's (Nature blowing biibbles) ; but I don't 
 see why a fine plump young woman, lying under 
 the shade of ardent sunflowers, on the sandy 
 margin of a splashing fountain, and idly busied in 
 bubbling water through a reed, should be dignified 
 with the abstract title of Nature. However, it is 
 not fair to try the ornamental style by the severe 
 rules of the epic or dramatic. With Mr. H. the 
 subject is merely considered as a vehicle for con- 
 trasted postures and effects of colour : of course 
 it would be ridiculous to censure the artist for 
 fulfilling his own intentions : these intentions he 
 seems to have completely achieved. His attitudes 
 are well chosen ; his grouping and chiaroscuro are 
 pleasing, if not striking ; his drawing is correct ; 
 (I must except the face of the fair-haired child 
 with the cornal of convolvolusos, which smells a 
 little of Eubens ;) the colouring at once clean and
 
 156 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 rich, gay and harmoious ; his lights well im- 
 pasted ; his shadows transparent ; and his execution 
 airy, yet firm : delicate, yet bold. The invention 
 is certainly rather commonplace; and Mr. H. has 
 a complete disregard for harmony of lines. The 
 folds of his drapery, and the forms of his wild 
 plants and flowers, are awkward and stiff: they 
 have been dashed in quite at random : he has 
 never thought about them : and the effect on an 
 eye accustomed to the grace and scientific drawing 
 of Giulio, Parmegiano, Bonasone, and our Law- 
 rence, Stothard, and Edward Burney, is very dis- 
 agreeable. If Mr. Hilton will take the trouble to 
 look candidly at G. Ghisi's large print of Cephalus 
 and Procris, Bonasone's Vendanges de Venus, 
 (Bartsch, vol. xv. No. 3,) or the arrangement of the 
 curls in M. Antonio's Dance of Children, or his 
 large Supper from Raffaello, he will instantly com- 
 prehend my objection. Whether he will con- 
 descend to pay any attention to this hint, I doubt ; 
 at all events, I have offered it with the most per- 
 fect good-will towards him, which I hope will 
 excuse the freedom of the style. Those who, like 
 myself, have closely observed this artist's progress, 
 will no doubt join me in esteeming the flesh of his 
 Nature as the finest he has yet produced. Her 
 swelling breast palpitates. 
 
 I like J. Chalon's G-reen-stall (144) very much ; 
 it looks clean ; there is such a pumpkin ! as Gri- 
 maldi says. No. 145, Le Billet, A. E. Chalon, R.A. 
 is of course a most fashionable-looking scene : the 
 arch expression of the young lady in the black
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 157 
 
 satin Spanish dress is very bewitching to my 
 notions : and I wish that I had been the lucky 
 man, instead of Mr. Chalon (it is a portrait) ; 
 though very likely, for my own sake, it is just as 
 well as it is. Heigho ! but I must not be fickle, 
 and, forget Susanne. 1 No. 155, The Interior of a 
 Stable, with Portraits, Agasse, is most naturally 
 touched ; and I am very glad that it has a place in 
 this room. Howard has a poetical design from 
 Spenser, The House of Morpheus (159), and Mr. 
 Cooper a spirited Portrait of a Hunter (165) ; the 
 sky background of which outrages nature without 
 gaining effect. 
 
 In the corner stands Sir Humphrey Davy him- 
 self, by the President. The features are most 
 scientifically and feelingly drawn ; every shape is 
 made out nothing is blurred ; yet the whole 
 together is broad, light, dashing, and apparently 
 even careless. Ward has a Horse, brilliantly 
 painted, with great power of brush ; and next to 
 it is the Eriphile, of the Keeper a picture of 
 much force in the actions, colouring, and chiaros- 
 curo. The composition is extremely simple and 
 severe, and is rather monumental than picturesque. 
 I think the attitude of the traitorous wife has been 
 hinted at in the antique ; if so, Fuseli has made a 
 noble use of it. In the murky veil, which only 
 half discloses the Furies pouring hot on the chase, 
 the acute observer will detect some admirable 
 tones. 
 
 1 A picture in the last Exhibition.
 
 158 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 The venerable West, by Sir Thomas, is of Stirling 
 merit the ease and character of the attitude : the 
 "breadth, richness, depth, and grand sobriety, show 
 at once the pre-eminence of the style of Titian 
 over the too frequent blusterings and attitudi- 
 nizings of Vandyke. The whole length of Vis- 
 countess Pollington and her Child (208) is a gentle 
 and touching image of motherly tenderness ; and, 
 by possessing the power of exciting general sym- 
 pathy, deserts the class of portraiture for that of 
 history. It is worth a hundred of Carlo Maratti's 
 Madonnas. Below this is a very pretty Lady's 
 Head, by Pickersgill, which would be better, 
 if it had more of Lawrence's spirit, without so 
 much of his worst manner. Stothard has a large 
 repetition of part of a smaller picture, exhibited 
 some years ago, and which, I fancy, is engraving 
 as a companion to the Canterbury Pilgrims. It 
 represents a selection of Shakspeare's characters, 
 from As You Like It, Lear, Macbeth, and The 
 Tempest, together with Falstaff. It has, of course, 
 great beauties, but wants fire both in the concep- 
 tion and execution. Miranda is innocence per- 
 sonified; and the group of Lear and Cordelia is 
 worthy of the artist's ancient name ; but the 
 Macbeth is feeble, mean, and mannered, which 
 latter fault pervades the whole picture. 
 
 0, for a draught of vintage ! that hath been 
 Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth : 
 Tasting of Flora and the country green, 
 Dance and Provencal song, and sun-burnt mirth !
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 159 
 
 O, for a beaker of the warm south, 
 Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, 
 With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, 
 And purple stained mouth ! 
 
 These beautiful lines, by the ill-fated Keats, 
 are as beautifully embodied by Stothard in his 
 glowing design of The Vintage (20), on which I 
 must dissert a little, before I leave the room. 
 Danby's Disappointed Love does his feeling and 
 powers of judgment the highest credit. The whole 
 scene is completely filled with the primary idea ; 
 but, at present, this artist may be compared to 
 Mr. Wordsworth's poet, wanting the gift of verse ; 
 and his picture, to an ugly woman with a beauti- 
 ful mind. Mr. Danby has not apparently suffi- 
 cient practice in oil colours to paint his own 
 pathetic conceptions ; and there are but few ob- 
 servers who will give themselves the trouble to 
 hunt for beauty of design or invention, when the 
 eye is discouraged by a forbidding execution. To 
 point out particular faults, would be at present 
 useless ; another year of application will light me 
 on my way more clearly. Leslie's May Day (8) is 
 a very cheerful, pleasing picture ; and, I believe, 
 has enjoyed its full share of praise, though it is 
 rather an object for one of Janus's sentimentali- 
 ties, than for serious criticism at least, I feel it 
 so now, when I am tired to death of skipping 
 from one thing to another but, if I ever meet 
 with it again, either in public or in private, I will 
 try to do it more justice. There is a little too 
 much of Smirke about it, in the expressions and 
 postures, to please me.
 
 160 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 I fancy I may now proceed to the ante-room, 
 where I find a very clever group by Linnel : 
 Lady Torrens and Family. It is unequal ; but 
 parts are drawn with great skill and precision; 
 witness the fore-shortened leg of the fine vigorous 
 little creature on its mother's knees. The girl 
 with the pallet is a most interesting figure ; and the 
 cast of features, hair, &c., reminds one not a little 
 of Leonardo or Luino who, I shrewdly suspect, 
 are as great favourites with Mr. L. as they are with 
 me. Look at his charming portrait of Mrs. Brooks 
 (307), and tell me if I am not right. The tone of 
 his flesh is too low to appear with advantage 
 by the side of Phillips, Jackson, and Owen ; 
 otherwise, I think his principal work should have 
 had a place in the School of Painting, at least : 
 Pickersgill's Morning (340) might have made way ; 
 or Mrs. Annesly's Mistake, entitled Satan, &c. 
 Martin's Revenge (379) would furnish matter for a 
 very poetical article, but I must be brief; there- 
 fore briefly, Mr. M., if you value your own fame, 
 brush out the whole of your frittered, shingly, 
 gaudy foreground, together with those execrably 
 executed figures ; put it in again in a broad massy 
 severe style, so as to set off the sublime distance, 
 and you will have achieved a work to live in the 
 recollections of our posterity, when not a thread of 
 your canvas remains. Do not despise this advice, 
 because the giver is unknown to you ; it comes 
 from the greatest master of effect that ever lived, 
 Eembrandt van Eyn ! and, for a proof of my 
 assertion, I refer you to his Jacob's Dream in the
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 161 
 
 Dulwich Gallery, or his large etching of the 
 TJiree Grosses; from which you will practically 
 learn how materially terror is increased by obscurity. 
 This is a truism ; nevertheless it seems quite new 
 to Mr. Martin. S. W. Eeynolds, jun., appears 
 to possess talent ; therefore I am sorry he does not 
 strive to imitate nature, rather than the manner of 
 Sir Joshua's faded pictures. This is not the way 
 to rival his great namesake, but it is the way to 
 draw on him a repetition of the contemptuous classi- 
 fication which confounded among the servile crowd 
 the names of Salviati, Leandro Bassano, Baroccio, 
 Allessandro Mazzuolo, Jordaens, Bramer, Flink, 
 and Eeckhout. See Eeynolds's Works, Sixth Dis- 
 course. Over the door, we have a Hebe by a 
 gentleman of the name of Stroehling ; and, I think, 
 it can be safely set down without flattery as 
 about the worst thing in the Academy. The Presi- 
 dent's West and this are the alpha and omega of 
 modern portrait. Cat Grove, with the Winter 
 Night's Fight between the Gamekeepers and Poachers 
 (435, H. Corbould), has a great deal of merit so 
 have Nos. 366 and 421, by the Bones. Lane's 
 Portrait of Dr. * * * (427) is not only well 
 painted, as becomes a late pupil of Lawrence, but 
 absolutely more like than the original. 
 
 Poor Relations, by Stephanoff, evinces very great 
 and deep observation of nature. The expressions 
 are vigorous and true ; the whole conception har- 
 monized with a poet's power ; that is, every thing 
 about it tells the same story ; it is pregnant with 
 good sense (a great scarcity in modern art) and 
 M
 
 162 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 good feeling it is a moral picture ; it holds the 
 mirror up to the world, and shows it the horrid 
 deformity of its cold-blooded prejudices. We are 
 all of us acting the part of this Old Lord Luxury 
 in his easy chair every day, and are not aware of 
 it, in spite of Tom Jones and Mr. Stephanoff. I 
 shall see the better for this couching as long as I 
 live ; so, I trust, will many more of us. This is 
 being really a painter, not a mere ornamental 
 colourist like Mr. * * * * I have not time 
 to point out all the variety of intelligence which 
 is combined in this little picture ; but I think that 
 our Mia would manage it beautifully let me 
 suggest it to him. I must, however, before I go, 
 compliment Mr. S. on the extreme modesty, fresh 
 ness, innocence, and beauty, of the girl's head ; a 
 fair young rose from a drooping stock. I never 
 saw a more interesting countenance. He was quite 
 right in making her handsome, which is just as 
 probable as that she should be the reverse ; besides, 
 his object was to strike at once on the sympathy ; 
 and beauty in distress will always excite pity, 
 where deformity will create disgust ! There is 
 still great room for improvement in the mechanical 
 parts, especially mellowness of touch and surface ; 
 but, these difficulties being overcome, Mr. S. will 
 find himself at once in a higher rank than the 
 delineators of bitten apples, cut fingers, and all the 
 long list of the results of mere diligent observa- 
 tion and patient imitation of objects intrinsically 
 worthless, and devoid of the genuine elements of 
 either humour or pathos. I hope that Poor Rela-
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 163 
 
 .tions is sold if not, allow me to say, that 150 
 could not be better laid out by a patron of art, 
 than in the purchase of it. This is entirely my 
 own valuation. I never saw Mr. S. in my life, and 
 have no sort of communication with any one 
 belonging to him ; but I have casually heard a very 
 high character of him for industry, and for strug- 
 .gling most worthily for fame and a livelihood 
 under truly disheartening circumstances. To this 
 moment, I believe, he has never met with any 
 thing like adequate reward. If this be true, I 
 need say no more to an Englishman. Perhaps 
 .an effectual way of serving the artist, would be 
 by causing a good engraving to be published at 
 the risk of such individuals as may choose to 
 ^nter into a subscription for that purpose, the 
 profits to be handed over to Mr. S. I am too much 
 occupied, and my name is too obscure, for me to 
 appear as a leader in this scheme ; but what I 
 can, I will ; my ten guineas (and I wish they 
 were twenty) are ready when called for ; and one 
 line to Mr. Fine Arts, care of Messrs. Taylor and 
 Hessey, shall produce them in the course of two 
 hours from receipt of notice. 
 
 Several excellent pictures still hang on my 
 hands; among which are Stothard's Vintage, 
 Callcott's Dover Castle, Etty's gorgeous Cleopatra, 
 Clint's Scene from Lock and Key, the sketch 
 (Jealousy) by the unwearied Keeper, the land- 
 scapes of Sir G. Beaumont, Cooper's Decisive 
 Charge of Cromwell at Long Marston Moor, Phillips's 
 Lady Harriet Drummond, Captain Hastings's Storm 
 
 M 2
 
 164 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 off the Cape, the beautiful works of Mr. Constable,. 
 W. Daniel's tremendous Sea in the Bay of Biscay 
 (an admirable composition), Stark's View near 
 Norwich, and The Quarrelling Scene between Sampson 
 and Balthazar, Romeo and Juliet, by the improving 
 Briggs. Most of these demand a much longer 
 notice than my limits will allow ; but I regret the 
 omission the less, as they are all able to stand by 
 themselves without my feeble props. I promise 
 myself the pleasure of recurring to those of Fuseli, 
 Stothard, Daniel, and Etty, at some future period 
 till when, I bid farewell ! 
 
 CORNELIUS VAN VINKBOOMS. 
 June 18. 
 
 P.S. Dear me ! I've quite forgot the Masonry f 
 
 P.S. 2dus. Mr. Elton will have the goodness to* 
 accept my sincere thanks for his unexpected com- 
 pliance with my wish. I take his compliment, 
 addressed to the Editor, all to myself, I assure him. 
 Could he not afford the public some more selec- 
 tions from Nonnus or his favourite Apollonius ? 
 I suppose that Mr. E. has seen the note prefixed' 
 to some selections from his Musceus, in the pre- 
 face to Marlowe's Hero and Leander, edited by 
 Mr. Singer.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 165 
 
 C Fan Umfcfcooms, fits Boptaa (or IBtlrttantt. 1 
 
 No. I. 
 
 RECOLLECTIONS IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. 
 
 Down by a flowery greene I went, 
 
 Full thick of grass, full soft and sweet, 
 
 With, flowres full faire under feet, 
 
 And little used, it seemed thus : 
 
 For both Flora and Zepherus, 
 
 They two that make flowres grow, 
 
 Had made their dwelling there, I trow ! 
 
 ****** 
 
 For all the wood was waxen greene, 
 
 Sweetness of Dewe had made it waxe. 
 
 It is no neede for to axe 
 
 Where there were many greene greves 
 
 Or thicks of trees, so full of leaves, 
 
 And every tree stood by himselve 
 
 Fro th' other, well ten foot or twelve, 
 
 ***** 
 
 With crops broad, and eke as thick, 
 
 They were not an inch asunder, 
 
 That it was shady o'er all under ; 
 
 Through here I romed wonder fast 
 
 Down the wood, so at the last 
 
 I was aware of a man in black 
 
 That sat in a church-yard and turned his back 
 
 To an oak, an huge tree. 
 
 " Lord," said I, " who may that be ? 
 
 What aileth him to sitten there ! " 
 
 Chaucer. 
 
 f 1 London Magazine, September, 1821. These Vink- 
 "booms papers are perfectly in Wainewright's manner, 
 -although in one or two places he tries to throw us off the 
 scent. Aut Weathercock Aut Diabolus f \
 
 166 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 THIS will be, in all probability, a short article.. 
 For, as I am now sitting in a church-yard, seventy- 
 three miles from London, without a single book 
 either in ray pocket or portmanteau, I must put 
 my trust for fine phrases in my memory, which is 
 not to be relied on and in my brains, which are 
 little copious. On this very account, however, I 
 am determined, with a parity of reasoning which 
 induced the Latins to derive lucus a non lucendo,, 
 and our late Mr. Drama to pitch on Salisbury 
 Plain as the fittest station for penning a critique 
 on Convent Garden (as Ld. P writes it), to de- 
 scribe a few pictures in the British Institution, 
 and two or three prints for books besides, which, as 
 I said before, are seventy-three miles distant from 
 my " visual eye." I have likewise three motives for 
 my present action, which the gentle reader shall 
 have, whether he likes it or not : 1st, I am lying 
 on the cool grass, on a very elevated spot not five 
 miles from the green salt sea ; and a due approxi- 
 mation to the wandering clouds is held by Dr. 
 Johnson to favour the wit : 2dly, (which is the 
 consequence of the first, though not syllogistically 
 so,) I have a wonderful " exposition " to gossip 
 about Michael Angelo, Tristan le Leonnois, Major 
 Cockburn, Goethe, (I beg pardon, respected Editor ! 
 but what, in the name of Sathanas, set somebody 
 two or three numbers back a,-Mistering, eight or 
 ten times in a page, M. le Baron John Wolfgang 
 Von Goethe ?) Keats," La Demoiselle qui songeoit," 
 and the like : and, 3dly, I am promise-bound for 
 not less than four pages on something this month.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 167 
 
 Therefore, my unknown friends, as soon as my 
 messenger returns from the village with some ma- 
 terials for writing, I shall expostulate a few of the 
 above-mentioned to ye. Now, in the meantime, I 
 give ye leave to express your wonder at my 
 choice of site ; and as it is rather early in the day, 
 and as I know how ye all love my nice little pre- 
 ambles. I have no objection to tell briefly the why. 
 Be it known, then, that I have three things in great 
 estimation, viz. to sit lazily on an eminence which 
 commands a rich prospect, to be shadowed by the 
 thick trees while the gay sun shines around me, 
 and to enjoy solitude with the consciousness of 
 neighbourhood. Here they are all for the church- 
 yard is the summit of a short but steepish hill, 
 feathered with the finest plantations of oak, the 
 white-barked ash, beeches, noble pines, and lofty 
 acacias, which rise like columns out of broad 
 sweeping meadows, soft and level as a garden lawn. 
 Their high hedges are smothered with hazel ; and 
 the wood strawberry runs luxuriantly over the 
 banks, decorated with wild flowers, " yellow, and 
 blue, and white." Down in the hollow, crossing 
 the front of the ancient white church, there is a 
 clear trout stream, winding along like a snake, in 
 some places among marshy ground, rugged with 
 brambles, thorns, and snaggy stumps, forming a 
 fine contrast with the smooth massiness of the high- 
 stemmed trees on the uplands. The church-yard 
 itself is one of the prettiest of its kind; I am 
 quite in love with its irregular little paths the 
 more ancient paved with flags and red brick, and
 
 168 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 the recent with sifted gravel. It looks as if it 
 were clean and neat from nature, not from art: 
 the herbage is long and thick without rankness ; 
 there is not a nettle in it to alarm ladies' silk- 
 covered ancles ; the few yews are dark, but not 
 dismal ; the circling hedge of living laurel, of the 
 brightest green I ever beheld; and its whole appear- 
 ance, tumuli and all, is as domestic, cheerful, and 
 snug, as if it were kept in such apple-pie order 
 for the better seducing folks to come and be 
 buried. 
 
 Two of my requisites are tolerably well made 
 out, and the third will not cost me much more 
 trouble. "With regard to neighbourhood, the village 
 is so near that I can hear the little boys and girls 
 playing by the duck-pond at the bottom of its ap- 
 proach ; and receive from my " honest ale-house " 
 (what I am now awaiting, as I breakfasted at 
 seven o'clock) a fine luncheon of home-baked bread, 
 a cold slice of home-smoke-dried Hampshire bacon, 
 and a mug of home-brewed sound ale, for which 
 mine host of the King's Arms or Head, or what- 
 ever it may be, is justly famed. And touching 
 solitude, the situation of the ground is in itself 
 extremely advantageous, being defended in front 
 by some impracticable waste land : in the rear, by 
 the pleasure-grounds and shrubbery of an elegant 
 rural mansion, and flanked on the one hand by 
 a range of wood-shaded meadows, and on the other 
 by a rustic attempt at a road leading nowhere, 
 or thereabouts. True it is, that my retreat is 
 crossed by a thoroughfare, leading from the said
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 169 
 
 road to the aforesaid meadows ; but, at present, 
 this path is barred by a convenient exclusive and 
 excluding bull, who holds his court in these green 
 realms ; and in the evening not a soul would ap- 
 proach the yard out of respect to a monstrous black 
 dog with soup-dish eyes, glaring livid like blue 
 lights, who plays at leap-frog over the tomb-stones, 
 and is supposed to be the property of an ancient 
 admiral who taketh his walks in all weathers, 
 dressed in a red coat and yellow waistcoat ! ! ! an 
 attire sufficiently out of the ordinary course of 
 nature to appal every thinking mind, if to this 
 horrid enormity he did not add the omission of his 
 head ! ! ! But here comes my smock-frocked 
 valet-de-place, Ealph Westropp, with my forage. 
 "" Sur, Measter says as that," " Where is (con- 
 found ye ! mind how you set down the jug !) 
 Where's my paper, Ealph ? " " There, Sur," (pullmg 
 out four soiled crumpled sheets of 4to.) "I've been 
 axing and ' quiering all up and down, and that's 
 every bit the pleace do hold," (alack for the pro- 
 gress of literature !) " but if you think proper, I'll 
 
 just step over to T (ten miles off), and be back 
 
 in no time." " No, no, I shall manage ; and now 
 I suppose landlord wants to know about dinner ? 
 Well ! tell him to get me that leg of South- 
 down roasted by nine o'clock ; I shall dine and sup 
 altogether and be sure they boil me plenty of mar- 
 row-fats and potatoes ! and and get about your 
 business ! and leave JSlucher with me ! " " Ees, 
 Sur ! I'll look up again by and by, and see if you 
 -don't want nothing." " Aye aye." (Exit Ralph
 
 170 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Cornelius manet.) "Blucher! do you love "" 
 but I beg your pardon, sweet reader ; allow me to 
 introduce Blucher, the worthy bull-headed mastiff 
 of my hostelrie, who kindly patronizes me in con- 
 sideration of certain mouthfuls of bread, beef, 
 bacon, and cheese " Blucher, do you love fat 
 bacon ? (Blucher bolts a banging bit of bacon.) 
 Good : now lie down here in this nice hollow be- 
 tween the two graves, and catch flies ! " Where's 
 the case-knife to cut my pencil ? (N.B. Neither 
 pen nor ink). So ! Now I begin. 
 
 ARTICLE. 
 
 The thoroughly grounded painter and connois- 
 seur may safely indulge himself in admiration of 
 every species of picture, good in its kind, from M. 
 Angelo, to Van Anybody, the artist of dunghills- 
 and pigstyes ; but this cannot, with safety to the 
 progress of taste, be allowed to beginners, either 
 in practice or amateurship. The art of sinking is 
 much easier than that of rising ; and though the 
 well-constructed mind, educated and formed by 
 the study of the antique, and the schools of Borne 
 and Parma, with ease unbends and enjoys the 
 products of mere imitation ; yet an instance has 
 rarely or never occurred of the cabaret painter who 
 has been able to feel or comprehend the true aim 
 and excellencies of the epic and dramatic styles. 
 Andrea del Sarto is a notable example of the 
 Bathos, and stands out a striking beacon to windy 
 judgments. This weak man, though unnaturally
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 171 
 
 buoyed up for a time by the strong food of 
 Florence and of Home, on beholding some German 
 novelties more congenial to the native contraction 
 of his mind, abandoned the style in which it 
 seemed he had so well succeeded, and shrank 
 from the fulness of Buonarotti and D'Urbino to 
 the shrivelled meagreness of Durer a fact nearly 
 as incredible as true. If, then, one possessed of 
 great talents (unaccompanied, unfortunately, by 
 steadiness) fell, owing to the contagion of injudi- 
 cious models, how much more is it needful now 
 at home, when the influence of taste in the Fine 
 Arts on many branches of commerce and manu- 
 factures is so generally allowed, to endeavour, with 
 the best of one's abilities, to direct the public in 
 what courses their admiration may be lavished 
 with safety and profit. I am very far from hoping 
 that my exertions can do much, even in the sphere 
 of our sale ; but considering the undue manner in 
 which Dutch drolleries lord it over the pure sub- 
 limity and tenderness of the sons of Italia, and the 
 prices given by wealthy gulls to tricking picture- 
 dealers for worthless copies from worthless ori- 
 ginals, it becomes every one to lend his hand to 
 restore the public scale of taste to a fitter equili- 
 brium ; and I am inclined to think, from the 
 elegant choice displayed in three pictures in the 
 present exhibition at the British Institution, that 
 these exertions will be aided by the example of 
 the first personage in the kingdom. 
 
 At all events, I shall be amply repaid for the 
 trouble of writing, if three people should feel in-
 
 172 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 duced, from the perusal, to look a little higher in 
 art than they have been hitherto accustomed. 
 Obstacles arise to the general diffusion, as in Italy, 
 of the grand gusto, from different circumstances. 
 One is, that several of the finest pictures have 
 never been engraved at all, or so inadequately as 
 to mislead rather than satisfy another is, the 
 extreme rarity and high price of many of the most 
 desirable prints (this, however, is not without ex- 
 ception) ; added to which, supposing the amateur 
 or artist amply provided in funds, he is not always 
 able to put his good intentions in practice for want 
 of a well-selected, roughly-priced catalogue of the 
 most faithful engravings from the most character- 
 istic inventions of the most prominent masters. 
 
 Such a manual, I know, would have saved me 
 much time and trouble when I began my little 
 collection ; and indeed, without it, Fuseli's admir- 
 able and indispensable second lecture loses much 
 of its utility to the student in a practical point of 
 view, who cannot be much enlightened by critiques 
 on works which he never saw ; but let it be placed 
 before him accompanied by a proper set of illus- 
 trations, and he will acquire, in six days, as good 
 a view of the generic features of the different 
 schools as I have been able to do in six years. 
 In sincere hopes that some one more capable will 
 take it up, I shall attempt a little essay towards 
 this desirable object, to be continued, if it should 
 not incur the disapprobation of our readers, by 
 small parcels through some succeeding numbers of 
 the LONDON MAGAZINE. I shall entreat the leniency
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 173 
 
 of the practised connoisseur and artist towards my 
 errors, which he will the more readily grant, as 
 desire of showing my little knowledge has not 
 actuated me, but merely of doing real service. 
 
 After what I have said above, it is hardly neces- 
 sary to advertise the reader, that my list will be 
 confined cliiefly to the Italian school, and that the 
 thorough-bred print collector will find nothing to 
 pamper his appet'ite for Maso Finiguerras, Baldinis, 
 Niello plates, Robettas, Wolfgangs, &c. No further 
 order orarrangeinentwillbe observed, than that every 
 separate portion shall contain one or two subjects, 
 from eight or ten different painters, which I think, 
 by its variety, will be at once useful and agreeable 
 to the new collector. For want of books I am not 
 able to manage even this desultory plan so orderly 
 as I wish this number ; therefore let us talk about 
 what we have all seen, viz., the Exhibition of Old 
 Masters at the British Institution. I have almost 
 every one of these pictures clearly before me, and 
 they will serve as land-marks to my memory. 
 Some other day we will run over Mr. Angerstein's 
 together, after which we will drive, to the excellent 
 Dulwich collection. 
 
 The paintings which I wish you now to look at 
 are those of Correggio, Tintoretto, and Polidoro. 
 We have but a fragmental specimen of Correggio 
 but it is precious as a gem (a small female head in 
 fresco, Lord Mulgrave). No master is so little 
 known in England, except Polidoro and Schiavone ; 
 not but we have many copies under his name, 
 among which I must class Mr. Angerstein's " Cnrist
 
 174 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 In the Garden," the original of which is probably 
 in the collection of the Duke of Wellington, 
 obtained by him from the King of Spain, who thus 
 deprived the Escurial of its greatest treasure. 
 Harmony is the characteristic stamp of his mind, 
 and an amorous, dream-like mystery, in which his 
 figures appear to float as on an enchanted lake. The 
 manner in which his best productions affect me, is 
 by a combination of luxuries ; " all impulses of 
 soul and sense thrill me." To He nested serenely 
 immoveable in down, among rich, shadowy curtains, 
 through which should stream seraphic strains, and 
 cool perfumes borne on the soft beams of the 
 summer moon this is the nearest parallel that I 
 can make. He is truly a sentimental painter, and 
 is therefore inimitable. The exterior particles of 
 his grace were refined by Parmegiano to affecta- 
 tion ; while his suavity dwindled into unmean- 
 ing imbecility in the hands of the delicate but 
 flimsy Baroccio. Something of a kindred feeling 
 pervaded Eeynolds, as may be seen in his Cupid and 
 Psyche, in the collection of the poet Kogers, and 
 in the moonlight portrait of Mrs. Stanhope. But, 
 in my opinion, Fuseli has several times shown 
 more of Allegri's soul than any of his most 
 enthusiastic followers. A picture by the professor 
 penes me, answers fully to the above little sketch 
 of the prevailing powers of the Lombard. Keats, 
 in the Eve of St. Agnes, has several lines, which 
 harmonize sweetly with the style alluded to. If 
 they live in my memory, I will give them to you.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 175 
 
 Thus whispering, his warm, unnerved arm 
 
 Sank in her pillow. Shaded was her dream 
 
 By the dusk curtains : 'twas a midnight charm, 
 
 Impossible to melt as iced stream : 
 
 The lustrous salvers in the moonlight gleam ; 
 
 Broad golden fringe upon the carpet lies : 
 
 It seem'd he never, never could redeem 
 
 From such a stedfast spell his lady's eyes ; 
 
 So mused awhile, entoil'd in woofed phantasies. 
 
 Awakening up, he took her hollow lute, 
 
 Tumultuous, and, in chords that tenderest he, 
 
 He play'd an ancient ditty, long since mute, 
 
 In Provence call'd " La Belle Dame sans Mercy : " 
 
 Close to her ear touching the melody, 
 
 Wherewith disturb'd, she utter'd a soft moan : 
 
 He ceased she panted quick and suddenly 
 
 Her blue affrayed eyes wide open shone : 
 
 Upon his knees he sank, pale as smooth-sculptured stone. 
 
 " Ah, Porphyro ! " said she, " but even now 
 
 Thy voice was at sweet tremble in mine ear, 
 
 Made tuneable with every sweetest vow ; 
 
 And those sad eyes were spiritual and clear : 
 
 How changed thou art ! how pallid, chill, and drear ! 
 
 Give me that voice again, my Porphyro, 
 
 Those looks immortal, those complainings dear ! 
 
 Oh, leave me not in this eternal woe ; 
 
 For if thou diest, my love, I know not where to go." 
 
 Beyond a mortal man impassion'd far, 
 At these voluptuous accents, he arose, 
 Etherial, flush'd, and like a throbbing star 
 Seen 'mid the sapphire heaven's deep repose. 
 
 Though the genius of Correggio lay more in 
 pouring harmony and repose over a whole, than in 
 striking originality of invention or strength of
 
 176 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 individual expression, yet he has occasionally 
 soared into these regions with a vigour that defies 
 all competition. The supernatural group of Jupiter 
 and lo the divine heads of Christ and the Virgin 
 in his Ecce Homo and, in my humhle opinion, 
 his Sigismonda, are sufficient evidences of this 
 assertion. He was the greatest master, if not the 
 inventor, of that species of fore-shortening, termed 
 "Di sotto in su," in which the figures are seen 
 from below, as on ceilings, cupolas, &c. ; and to 
 this principle, which he pushed into extravagance 
 in the sprawling, almost indecent figure of his 
 glorified Saviour, most of his male fresco figures 
 are indebted for whatever of grandeur they may 
 possess. Luckily for the English amateur, his 
 effects are not unreadily transferred to copper ; as, 
 notwithstanding his exquisite hues, legitimate 
 chiaroscuro was his organ. The engravings, among 
 others, best calculated to furnish a good idea of his 
 style, are : 
 
 The Jupiter and lo, a valuable and rather scarce 
 print, from Love's own picture. (Duchange^) 
 5s. or 6s. 
 
 His Allegory, called the Leda, once cut to pieces 
 by squeamish bigotry, but since recovered, and 
 repaired by Prudhon, engraved in Filhol's 
 Galerie du Muse'e. (Duchange.) 10s. or 15s. 
 
 The Descent from the Cross, at Parma, described 
 in the second number of the LONDON MAGAZINE, 
 a charming twilight print. (F. di Bosaspina) 
 1 1.1s. 6d. or 2 2s.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 177 
 
 The Ecce Homo, engraved by Agos. Caracci, 
 though I prefer, as more faithful, though still 
 inadequate, the print by Bettilini. 1 5s. 
 
 The Madonna under the Palm-trees, with the 
 Eabbit, the finest he ever painted. (Jflarlom.) 
 1 11s. 6d. or 2. 2s. 
 
 The Christ's Agony in the Garden (Lord Wel- 
 lington's), from Hamilton's Schola Italica. N".B. 
 the good impressions are on a very thick and stiff 
 Eoman paper. ( Volpato.) 7s. 
 
 We must leave Correggio for the present, and 
 attend to the two pictures from the brush of 
 his contrast, Giacopo Eobusti, commonly called 
 Tintoretto, one of the brightest ornaments of the 
 Venetian school, than whom scarcely any man 
 possessed such exuberance of fancy, with so pow- 
 erful a hand to embody its purposes. At once 
 ardent and laborious, he turned out more work 
 than all the painters in Venice put together 
 painting at all times, and accepting and executing 
 commissions at all prices. Bred under the tutor- 
 age of Vecelli, he became speedily so thoroughly 
 initiated in that great master's principles of colour 
 as to beget his own expulsion an act both 
 mean and foolish on the part of Titian. Not at 
 all discouraged, Giacopo did not content himself 
 with his acquirements there, but sat down reso- 
 lutely to the study of M. Angelo and the antique, 
 at the same time modelling in clay, perfecting 
 himself in anatomy, and drawing from life by 
 H
 
 178 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 lamplight, whence he no doubt derived those 
 grand scientific masses, yea, floods of shadows, 
 which form one great mark of his style. Fully 
 impressed with the fleshiness and truth of his 
 master's tints, he was not blind to his defects in 
 drawing and expression, which he conceived the 
 grand project of remedying by superadding Titian's 
 majestic tone, glow and juice to the severity, 
 learning and gigantic expansion of the forms of 
 Buonarotti. Had his depth been equal to his 
 warmth, and his steadiness to his industry, this 
 noble plan, afterwards adopted by Titian himself, 1 
 would have rendered him the undisputed king of 
 the modern oil-painters. But, to use the words of 
 Fuseli, " goaded on by the rage of doing singly 
 the work of all, and debauched by the unexampled 
 facility of his own execution, he gave himself 
 neither time to conceive, to judge, nor to finish ; 
 content to catch a whim, if it had novelty, he 
 turned his subject into a farce, or trampled its 
 parts into undistinguished masses ; and sacrificing 
 mind, character, design, and sense, to incongruous, 
 but picturesque imagery and fugitive effect," he 
 converted his art into a plaything, leaving behind 
 him little more than the reputation of being the 
 head of the ornamental school. 
 
 The characteristics of his style are : prodigious 
 breadth of chiaroscuro, richness, harmony, depth 
 
 1 See the "Pietro Martire," the "David and Goliath," 
 " Cain and Abel," and " Sacrifice of Abraham," all given in 
 Le Febre'e Opera Selectiora, &c. Ven. 1680.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 179 
 
 =and originality of tone and colour, bold and 
 violent fore-shortenings, contrasted postures, oftener 
 rather singular than graceful, though by no 
 means without elegance in his females ; a tur- 
 bulent mode of composition, sometimes appro- 
 priate, always picturesque ; a luxuriant invention, 
 more fiery than dignified, more capricious than 
 grand, more copious than correct. These qualifi- 
 cations are rounded by a sweeping mastery of 
 execution, which gives to his largest works as much 
 unity as if they had been dashed off at a sitting. 
 In Tintoretto's drawing the effects are not always 
 apparently proportioned to his application, and 
 well-chosen course of study. His men possess 
 muscularity and size, without either grandeur or 
 selection. His women, more ideal and more man- 
 nered, particularly in their countenances, style of 
 hair (which is little else but the mode of the 
 period), are often too contorted and too ostenta- 
 tiously postured for grace, and seem weak-limbed 
 and awkward from their excessive length. This 
 last defect is perceptible in the Venus of Lord 
 Eardley's picture of Vulcan, Venus, and Cupid, 
 (one of the two in the B. I.) but much more so in 
 " The Birth of St. John," well engraved by Hon- 
 themels, in the Cabinet du Grozat. Before we 
 leave Giacopo, let us just look at the Eev. Mr. 
 Carr's picture of " St. George delivering the Egyptian 
 Princess from the Dragon," formerly in the hands 
 of E. Westall, Esq., where I once saw it. The 
 ordonnance of this highly desirable performance 
 is very characteristic of the school of Eobusti': 
 
 N2
 
 180 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 the line of the horizon is two-thirds up the picture 
 (an upright) ; the figures are placed on a piece of 
 woody, broken, grassy ground by the sea, which 
 forms one-side (about a fifth) of the painting, and 
 appears to flow behind a dim stone castle standing 
 in the distance. They are grouped in such a 
 manner, as to shoot obliquely across the canvas 
 from the base to the horizon, beginning with the 
 terrified 'princess on the fore-ground, continued by 
 the dusky body of a dead man, beyond whom the 
 fierce deliverer, with head down, arm raised, knees 
 griped to the saddle, and spurs back in the flanks, 
 drives his white war-horse down the slope into 
 the side and swoln tender belly of the already 
 reeling dragon. A burst of radiance from the 
 heavens (between a very pale orange and straw 
 colour) meets the diagonal line of composition, and 
 finishes the whole. Tintoretto has not here dis- 
 played so ostentatiously his broad banners of light 
 and shade ; but the glowing depth and harmony of 
 the colouring are worthy of his pencil. The robe 
 of Sabra, warmly glazed with Prussian blue, is 
 relieved from the pale greenish back-ground by a 
 vermilion scarf; and the full hues of both are 
 beautifully echoed, as it were, in a lower key by 
 the purple-lake-coloured stuffs and bluish iron 
 armour of the saint, besides an ample balance to 
 the vivid azure drapery on the fore-ground in the 
 indigo shades of the wild wood surrounding the 
 castle. Mr. Westall had once a grand " Eesurrec- 
 tion of Lazarus," full of beautiful colour, well- 
 "'mpasted, and most furiously executed ; and at Mr.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 18 L 
 
 Hammond's the picture-dealer of Greek-street, 
 Soho, I have seen a very fine sketch of the Last 
 Judgment, which, however, Mr. Ottley inclines to 
 ascribe to young Palnia. I rather wonder that 
 the Academy did not purchase this last, which is 
 an admirable study in point of colour. The best 
 specimens of Tintoretto's style are the " Cruci- 
 fixion," in the Scuola di San Eocco at Venice ; the 
 " Eesurrection " and the " Massacre of the Inno- 
 cents," in the same place ; and the " Miraculo del 
 Servo," painted for the S. di S. Marco, whose holy 
 deed it blazons. In portrait he was scarce inferior 
 to Titian, as may be seen from his " Archbishop of 
 Spalatro," now in this country. To convey an 
 adequate idea of his excellencies by prints is im- 
 possible, as his most characteristic allurement is 
 the chromatic part. Even his tone, somewhat 
 more attainable, has been generally missed by his 
 translators; witness the enormous mistake en- 
 graved by Agos. Carracci from his "Crucifixion ; " 
 however, take a few of them, such as they are : 
 
 The Murder of the Innocents : of which there is 
 a copy in reverse without the engraver's name. 
 (dEgidiws Sadeler.) 10s. 
 
 The Archbishop of Spalatro. (Skelton?) 10s. 6d. 
 
 The Origin of the Galaxy, from the Palais Eoyale ; 
 a very sublime conception, whose vigour of 
 design nearly equals that of the tone and colour. 
 T. Phillips, Esq., E.A. possesses a repetition of 
 this subject, with an additional group of figures 
 placed under the line of clouds which support
 
 182 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 the couch of the startled Juno. It ought to be 
 well engraved on a larger scale. (Jaunay.} 5s. 
 
 The Miracle of the Slave ; a mannered print,, 
 deficient in tone ; but it is " this or none." 
 (Matham, the pupil of Goltzius.) 8s. 
 
 St. Jerome, the Virgin, and Angels ; a fine rich 
 thing. (Agos. Carracci.) 16s. orlls. 
 
 The Marriage at Cana, in the Schola Italica.. 
 ( Volpato.) 5s. 
 
 The Descent from the Cross. (Sadeler.) 5s. 
 
 Tn the south room we have two pictures by 
 Polidoro di Caldara (Cupids and Swans, and Cupids 
 dragging Nets, both in chiaroscuro) ; and I declare 
 I never felt so much pleasure as I did on reading, 
 His Majesty's name as the possessor of these 
 graceful productions of that valuable and scarce 
 artist. Polidoro, a Milanese, surnamed from hi& 
 native town, Carravaggio, became a painter from 
 viewing, in the character of hod-man, the execution 
 of Eaftaello's and Udino's works in the Vatican. 
 Just at this time great discoveries of antiques 
 were taking place in Italy, besides the casts and 
 drawings which Kaffaello caused to be procured; 
 from Greece; and Polidoro fell so heartily to* 
 studying and investigating the principles of the 
 ancients, as displayed in their basso and alto re- 
 lievos, friezes, vases, &c., that in a short time he- 
 succeeded in establishing a style which, totally- 
 free from servile imitation of their husks, is more;
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 183 
 
 in the spirit of his models than either that of 
 Kaffae'llo, Giulio, Primaticcio, or N. Poussin him- 
 self. Luckily for Eome, his talents were appre- 
 ciated; and the number of his commissions so 
 much exceeded his ability to satisfy them, that 
 he was forced to call in the aid of Maturino the 
 Florentine, an honoured name, who linked his 
 own style, both in conception and execution, so 
 closely to his partner's, as to render discrimination 
 nugatory. Their compositions, executed in chiar- 
 oscuro, once decorated the outside walls of every 
 palazzo in Eome, now, alas, destroyed or defaced 
 by Time and ruder hands ; and we are obliged to 
 glean our knowledge of their merit from the prints 
 of Cherubino Alberti (a painter himself), the small 
 etchings of Gallestruzzi ; and, what is still worse, 
 from the exaggerations of Goltzius and Sanredam, 
 and the wiry meagreness of that impudently-un- 
 faithful mannerist, Sante-Bartoli. In no painter, 
 except D'Urbino, do we find such unaffected sim- 
 plicity, such an unobtrusion of the artist ; and 
 this it is which renders them, on the first sight, 
 so little remarkable. There is no manner to hook 
 the raw eye ; the student fancies, with Partridge, 
 that he could easily do as well himself ; and it 
 is not till failure has taught him wisdom, that 
 he discovers this very circumstance to constitute 
 Caldara's inviolability from imitation. If his con- 
 ceptions seldom or never rise to the sublime, they 
 are always dignified. His attitudes, sufficiently 
 contrasted without posturing, are earnest, yet 
 noble ; animated without bombast, and probable
 
 184 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 without vulgarity. His gusto in design is com- 
 pletely of a piece with his conception; correct, 
 but not stiff or hard ; learned, yet not anatomically 
 pedantic ; full and broad without heaviness ; vigor- 
 ous and masculine without losing delicacy ; uniting 
 precision with grace. Though he never, like my 
 favourite Parmegiano, is contented with affectation, 
 when in search after elegance, yet his lines are 
 flowing and sweepy ; and in their emanation from 
 and connexion with each other, uniformly harmo- 
 nious. The beauty and nature of his flying draperies 
 have never been excelled. His chiaroscuro is for- 
 cible and well-conducted, giving to single figures 
 and groups prodigious roundness ; and his com- 
 position compact, yet distinct, is, considering the 
 fetters of the monumental style, extremely varied 
 and appropriate. 
 
 Such are the high characteristics of a painter, 
 neglected and unknown (except to a few) in these 
 days, when sordid vulgarity and accidental de- 
 formity assume the names of nature and truth 
 when a bad copy from a spurious Titian or re- 
 touched Eembrandt constitutes any given Eoggins 
 or Spilkins a critic on Fine Art ; and when a blas- 
 phemous use of the names of Raffaello and Phidias 
 erects an elaborate tiifler, an industrious congre- 
 gator of mean, imbecile, and ugly physiognomies 
 and actions into an historic painter. 
 
 His Majesty's example may do much towards 
 calling people from their grovelling love for those 
 products of dull patience and want of imagina- 
 tions, the pictures of Netscher, Denner, Douw, old
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 185 
 
 Mieris, &c., while the elegance of taste and the 
 penetration shown in the choice of the two Poli- 
 doros and the Schiavone (Briseis ravished from 
 Achilles), though no more than was to be expected 
 from the First Gentleman in the empire, may per- 
 adventure shame some of our wealthy self-dubbed 
 connoisseurs out of their itch for Brouwers, and 
 into the purchase of such pictures as grace the 
 invaluable collection of J. Julius Angerstein, Esq. 
 Till this is done, and till faithful artist-like prints 
 from the leading masters are published at such 
 prices as may allow, and indeed invite an exten- 
 sive sale, it is all foolishness for Mr. This, or Mr. 
 T'other, to write "plans for advancing the fine 
 arts,"&c. When people, from having the best models 
 constantly before their eyes, begin to comprehend 
 the capabilities of separate styles, and know what 
 is to be expected from the powers of the art : where 
 and when it is to work with the simple materials 
 of history : where to change and transmute them 
 to fit better its own peculiar purposes ; and at 
 what crisis, and in what emergency, it is permitted 
 the use of vision, symbol, or double apposition 
 then only will their patronage acquire the per- 
 manent weight of utility. At present, it evidently 
 does more harm than good ; for what man will have 
 folly enough to study deeply the principles of the 
 blazing luminaries of Florence, Eome, and Parma, 
 for the purpose of embodying the patriarchs 
 of Genesis, the heroes and fair women of Homer, 
 Hesiod, Sophocles, Herodotus, Ariosto and Spenser, 
 or the mystic and picturesque situations of La
 
 186 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 Mort d' Arthur, and of Undine, 1 in order to be in- 
 sulted by the preference given to Crossing a, 
 Brook, The Dog Stealer, The Cock Fight, " The ap- 
 proach to Mr. Pummock's Grot," " Officers of the 
 * * * Lancers," or a pack of paltry prints, 
 published for the mexpressed purpose of deforming 
 the beauteous pages of John Ballantyne, and 
 Thomas Davison ? 2 Here, for the present, we stop,, 
 begging pardon for our digression, and recom- 
 mending the amateur, and especially the young 
 practitioner, to study carefully the few and im- 
 perfect prints after the inventions of this solid 
 master. I am not able to describe all those put 
 forth by Alberti, as I possess but few, and cannot 
 here call on the assistance of M. Bartsch (le Peintre- 
 graveur) ; but the desiderante will find little trouble 
 in selecting, if he inquires (using our name) at 
 Messrs. Colnaghi's or Molteno's for a portfolio of 
 Cherubino Alberti or Polidoro. He will find them, 
 I believe, extremely reasonable, notwithstanding 
 their comparative scarcity. 
 
 Polidoro's finest work, which still exists in ruins, 
 is the long frieze of the FahU of Niobe, engraved 
 
 1 Why will not the translator of Sintram favour us with 
 the Summer and Autumn Romances, or the Magic Ring 
 or the Siegfried and Brunhild ? 
 
 2 I trust Messrs. Stothard, Westall and Richard Cook, 
 (why do we see you so seldom, good Mr. Cook ?) will not 
 put on caps intended for a very different set of people. It 
 is a small crime to illustrate the novels of Sir W. S. ; but, 
 the Lord preserve us ! the dead (witness Shakspeare) are 
 not safe. [Hear, hear !]
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 187 
 
 on eight plates, very valuable, though carica- 
 tured by the false taste of Sanredam, the pupil 
 and relation of Goltzius. .1 4s. or 2 2s. 
 
 The Eape of the Sabines ; a very extensive com- 
 position, full of fine action. (Cher.' Alberti.) 
 12s. 
 
 Brennus Casting his Sword into the Scale. (San- 
 redam.) 7s. or 10s. 
 
 A Eoman Triumph. (0. Alberti.) 5s. 
 
 The Story of Perseus and Atlas ; one part of this 
 long plate contains some nymphs gathering 
 fruit in a river-watered grove. (C. Alberti.) 7s. 
 
 The Wine Yat ; a small circle. (G. Alberti) 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Twelve Gods of Antiquity, on twelve plates. 
 (Goltzius}. 1 4s. or 1 10s. 
 
 These are sufficient to begin with. Good b'ye. 
 * * * *d, Hampshire, Aug. 7. 
 
 P.S. Before I have the pleasure of seeing you" 
 again, my dear Sir, let me counsel you to acquire, 
 in some way or other, a choice old copy of Gaven 
 Hamilton's Schola Italica Picturce, large fol. Eomse, 
 1773, price about five or six guineas, which con- 
 tains forty-one specimens, in general admirably 
 engraved by Cunego and Volpato, from the best 
 pictures (both fresco and oil) of M. Angelo, Kaf-
 
 188 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 faello, Da Vinci, Fra Bartolomeo, Correggio, 
 Baroccio, Andrea del Sarto, Parmegiano, Giulio, 
 Polidoro, Titiano, Tintoretto, Paolo Veronese, 
 Bassano, Palma Guido, Dominichino, M. A. de 
 Carravaggio, Albano, Guercino, Lanfranco, and 
 the Carracci. .This book is of itself a gallery 
 to a young artist or amateur; but when you 
 have your hand in your pocket, it may not be 
 amiss to add the set of plates called Baffaelle's 
 Bible, published in oblong fol. 1790, by Mon- 
 tagnani of Kome : if you should light on a good 
 copy of Maurer's Emblems or Stimmer's Huntings, 
 or indeed any of his works, except his Bible (small 
 4to., Basle, 1576), secure them immediately; and 
 if you don't like 'em, send them to 93, Fleet-street, 
 and you shall receive their value and my hearty 
 thanks.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 189 
 
 <. Uan Finfcfcooms fjfe Hogmas for IStlettantt, 1 
 
 No. IT. 
 GIULIO ROMANO. 
 
 I like the green plush which your meadows weare,, 
 
 I praise your pregnant fields, which duly beare 
 
 Their wealthy burthen to th' industrious boore. 
 
 Nor do I disallow, that who are poore 
 
 In minde or fortune, thither should retire : 
 
 But hate that he, who's warme with holy fire 
 
 Of any knowledge, and 'mong us may feast 
 
 On nectared wit, should turne himself t' a beast, 
 
 And graze i' the country. Habington. 
 
 A wise man should never resolve upon anything * * * * * 
 A man must do according to accidents and emergencies. 
 
 Selderis Table-Talk. 
 
 HE who, possessing an active mind, is yet defi- 
 cient in variety and originality of ideas to feed it 
 with, cannot subsist long without books. This 
 we felt so sensibly in our late excursion, that 
 we were forced to relinquish, for a time, our 
 resolution of visiting ***** (which would 
 of course have suggested very pastoral and 
 marine articles), and to return to London and 
 our indispensable authors and painters. " In 
 height of spring-tide, when heaven's lights are 
 long," we may contrive to drag through the day 
 bookless not amiss. Before breakfast, for instance,, 
 
 [* London Magazine, October, 1821.]
 
 190 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 one may take a view if one can ; at noon, a 
 sail if near the sea ; and in the evening a stroll 
 amid the fresh fragrant breath of the furze and 
 heath if not tired; repeating Collins's lovely 
 ode if ever learnt, and still retained. By this 
 time it draws towards ten o'clock, and a truss of 
 fine blanched lettucej a good dig of Stilton, or a 
 slice of ham, and a handsome glass of bottled 
 porter, all well earned by exercise, carry you 
 comfortably to your white-curtained bed. But 
 as the days begin to draw in, and when the 
 mystical E. renders oysters eatable and candles 
 necessary, solitude at an inn becomes intolerable, 
 especially since the disuse of coloured prints, 
 samplers, screens, maps, &c. They have no little 
 china pastoralities on the mantle-shelves now no 
 piping shepherds in claret-coloured coats and 
 cocked hats no fallow-deer couching their white 
 breasts among pure lilies and ideally green herb- 
 age no Falstaffs, lacquered red and yellow nor 
 Shakspeares, overlaid with black, staid wisdom's 
 hue : crumbled to tinder are those pictorial bed- 
 curtains, visible lectures on ornithology and 
 botany " all, all are gone, the old familiar faces," 
 and with them is flown half the enjoyment I took 
 in enacting the Tartar. I am certainly an amia- 
 ble creature; every action of my life emanates 
 from a wish to please. I left the valley of 
 * *.* * last spring to please the painters with my 
 eulogies. I left the seaweed-tangled beach of 
 *****," bidding the thickening waves go foam 
 for other eyes," to please myself. And this morn-
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 191 
 
 ing, I left my most acrasian bed to please the 
 Editor by penning No. II. of my delightful 
 Dogmas. 
 
 But, in the first place, I must see what there is 
 in this roll. Ah ! Mr. Eichard Cook, are you here 
 at my call ? The "Death of Acis," folio size. This 
 very striking spirited design proves that the painter 
 of Polyphemus groping for the Ithacans at the 
 Mouth of his Cave (engraved for Sharp's elegant 
 edition of the poets), and Douglas glimly louring 
 on the glittering train of James IV., has not fallen 
 off either in animation or refinement. The action 
 of Galatea's hands has great truth and simplicity ; 
 but the lower limbs want more energy or more 
 helplessness ; the latter indeed would accord better 
 with the convulsive shrink of the arms ; a fright- 
 ened Amor, it is true, appears to urge forward the 
 " faire marine," indicating very plainly her re- 
 luctance or incapacity needing such incitement; 
 but the white knees themselves have none of the 
 hesitation and uncertainty of terror arrested by 
 pity ; of love combating self-hood ; they do not 
 start wildly away, nor bend and knock with joint- 
 loosening dread, nor stiffen rigidly, as if struck into 
 marble; but they are graceful, composed, and 
 elastic. Perhaps this is hyper-criticism. About 
 the Acis I feel more confident : he is carefully 
 drawn, every muscle and bone have their rights 
 well-acknowledged, and the expression of his face 
 is far from tame ; but precise marking is of little 
 avail, when the outline is pinched and without 
 style. Extraordinary genius may merge the acci-
 
 192 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 dental pettiness of parts in the overpowering gran- 
 deur of the whole ; but an inferior talent, out- 
 balanced by mediocrity, will certainly be smothered 
 as in a quicksand. Mr. Cook then may be a little 
 proud, that not he himself has been able to ruin 
 his own composition even by such a prominent 
 disfigurement. He has lately been very idle ; but 
 I trust we shall meet him again on the high places, 
 raising his ears at the loud twang of Homer's 
 phorminx, and giving chase to the thick-thrilling 
 sounds. This print is etched with artist-like feel- 
 ing by the firm hand of William Taylor, a young 
 man struggling for fame under great disadvantages^ 
 and whose execution does honour to Mr. Cook's 
 selection. ! here is Mr. Golding's long expected 
 Princess Charlotte after Sir Thomas. I have men- 
 tioned this picture in terms of the warmest admi- 
 ration (see account of the last Exhibition), and 
 am not the least inclined to retract, though my 
 opinion has been strongly opposed by several who 
 ought to know better than myself; and when I 
 consider how little Sir Thomas's favourites, the old 
 Italian masters and the antique, are appreciated 
 among our artists and connoisseurs, I feel quite 
 satisfied that the refinement, suavity and graceful 
 delicate chastity of this portrait form its essential 
 bars to popularity. With respect to the copy or 
 translation by Mr. Golding, it is decidedly inferior 
 to no line engraving of the present English school. 
 The first essential of a print is implicit fidelity to 
 the original 1 (which of course we suppose worthy 
 
 1 1 have heard some people say, that the engraver has-
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 193 
 
 of multiplication) ; where the want of this is ac- 
 knowledged, the real connoisseur will reject the 
 misrepresentation with contempt. Therefore the 
 possession of this qualification should of itself 
 render the present plate valuable to all admirers 
 of Lawrence ; if Golding had not also flattered 
 the eye of the print collector by the most varied 
 and appropriate workmanship, firm, delicate, solid, 
 airy, clear, rich and brilliant. The pathetic tender- 
 ness of the eyes, the great attraction of the large 
 drawing (formerly alluded to), is not so perceptible 
 in the plate ; but its omission is rather the graver's 
 misfortune than its fault. The expression, though 
 true, was too subtle and ethereal to bear the touch 
 of steel. But who is the author of this large 
 "Dentatus," fromMr.Haydon's well-known picture ? 
 I am quite ignorant of his style where is my 
 glass? "Drawn and engraved on wood by 
 Harvey ! " On wood! So it is, by Jupiter ! Truly 
 this is the most effectively elaborate performance 
 
 been unfaithful to such and such a part only to improve 
 it : granting the possibility of that occurring, which I am 
 prepared to say never occurred, yet still, when I would pur- 
 chase a Leonardo's Last Supper or a Kaffaello's Transfigur- 
 ation, I shall be much disappointed, and (unless previously 
 taught better) much damaged in my taste if, instead of 
 the severe intelligent lines and the forcible shadows of the 
 Florentine and the Roman, I am presented with a woolly, 
 metally, indecisive, tame improvement by that mannered 
 petty toolsman,Raffaelle Morghen the admiration of fallen, 
 immasculate Italy, and nose-led, well-meaning England ; 
 whose copies bear about the same relation to the pictures, as 
 does the polished bombast of Pope's Iliad to the downright 
 passion of Homer's. 
 

 
 194 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 that I ever met with ; and can it be the work of 
 the very young man I have had pointed out to 
 me as the co-pupil of the Laudseers and young 
 Bewick ? His ardour for excellence, and unwearied 
 perseverance under the most harassing privations, 
 were not unknown to me : but who could suppose 
 that raw twenty-one should thus shame experienced 
 fifty, and create a new era in xylography ? Up 
 to this day, our historical wood-cutters have thought 
 it much to follow in some fashion those lines 
 ready-pencilled by the inventor on the blocks ; but 
 here a good-for-nothing fellow, taking it into his 
 head to break through all the established customs 
 of the craft, copies a picture, and a complex one 
 too, on an out-of-the-way sized piece of box with 
 skill in drawing, knowledge of anatomy, fire of ex- 
 pression, character of touch, and general feeling, 
 beseeming much rather a practised inventor than 
 an inexperienced engraver! What is not to be 
 apprehended to modern art, if such an innovating 
 and radical example is to be spread over all the 
 print windows in town ? I see only one way, 
 which is for all reform-hating loyal people to follow 
 my example, and unite in buying up his whole 
 edition ; and, no doubt, this will be so discouraging 
 to Mr. Harvey, as to induce him (more Dibdini) to 
 shatter his block. Seriously, you to whom a guinea 
 is a mite not missed, think, if ye can think, of the 
 super- wretched situation of the young artist who, 
 in that trying season when uncertain of either 
 future fame or even the means of a miserable 
 subsistence, devotes all his energies to preparatory
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 195 
 
 study by day, while his dim lamp burns till four 
 in the morning, that the few shillings afforded by 
 an obscure publisher for some little designs may 
 procure him the means of appearing among his 
 companions with decency. Exhausted in mind, 
 chilled with cold and hunger, he throws his weak 
 fevered limbs on a hard old flock-bed, from which 
 he awakes to act anew that most pitiable of all 
 characters, the poor gentleman! I am very far 
 from wishing the public to take up every man who 
 chooses to fancy himself a painter ; but when there 
 is real and great merit suffering under sickness of 
 heart and body, shall we refuse ourselves a hundred 
 pounds' worth of pleasant feelings for the sake of a 
 guinea, which a glass of Madeira the less for a day 
 or two will amply make up to us ? Recollect this 
 you who, lightly salving your consciences by the 
 plea of necessary economy, refuse a shilling or two 
 towards a poor family's dinner, and yet that very 
 evening will carouse deep in " rich-glowing cups." 
 In the present instance, I can furnish you with 
 three incitements. 1st. You will enable a most 
 deserving aspirant to pursue his studies with more 
 attention to a delicate constitution ; which, second- 
 ly, I take it, will give you some very comfortable 
 sensations ; and, thirdly, your portfolio or boudoir 
 will be enriched with nearly the largest, and 
 certainly the most astonishingly tooled, wood en- 
 graving that England has ever produced : and, 
 whoever does me the honour to find my judgment 
 amiss, I beg leave to inform him that my name 
 is Van Vinkbooms, and that I carry a pen ! 
 2
 
 196 ISSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 i 
 
 I have nothing more to say just now about 
 recent publications, except to recommend the new 
 volume (5th) of Mr. Daniel's Coasting Tour, as 
 fully equal in interest to the fourth. Also, an ex- 
 cellent large folio etching of Windsor, from the 
 forest, by Mr. Delamotte, whose Studies from 
 Nature about Sandhurst (2 Nbs. 4to.) are the most 
 genuine things of the kind ever published in this 
 country, though a little too painter-like for begin- 
 ners. From Germany I believe nothing has arrived 
 lately, but Mr. Bohte has sent me some outline 
 compositions from the Eleusinian Mysteries, which 
 have much spirit and elegance. The classical 
 scholar will be highly pleased with them, and their 
 price is moderate. In a pocket-book, edited by 
 La Motte Fouque', are inserted ten or twelve prints 
 illustrative of Undine, Hieronymus Von Stauf, 
 &c. very characteristic of the German school. From 
 the former most bewitching of tales C. F. Schultze 
 has made fourteen designs in outline, which I shall 
 notice some time or other ; though perhaps more' 
 for the delight of recurring to their ever-fresh 
 source than on their own account. Still, though by 
 no means equal to Eetsch, the decorator of Goethe's 
 wonderful dramatic poem, Schultze has in several 
 instances risen far above mediocrity. Take, for 
 example, the inimitable stunted Gnome, in plate 
 6 ; and Klihleborn among the reeds of the Black 
 Valley, plate 12 : two figures pronounced unim- 
 provable by a judgment which I have found in- 
 fallible. 
 
 The present tendency of British art is towards-
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 197 
 
 mean, bald matter of fact ; which is just coming 
 round again to the first state of painting, 
 when simple, undiscriminative imitation was the 
 sole object ; if the eye was dazzled and deceived, 
 no care was taken of the satisfaction of 
 the mind. 1 This tendency, far from depressing, 
 fills me with great hopes, when I consider 
 that Michael Angelo and Raffaello rose from 
 the ruins of similar barbarity. Art is grown 
 old and imbecile a second time, and must, like the 
 phoenix, devote its crazy shell to the reproduction 
 of one stronger and better able to exhibit its in- 
 dwelling, never-dying flame. This is the course 
 of nature, where life ever springs from death; 
 a truth beautifully shadowed forth in the fable of 
 Medea who, unable to re-invigorate the ruin of 
 what once was ./Eson, was forced to decompose, 
 reduce to its original atoms, and, as it were, 
 create anew. Though in England the principle 
 of life is still inert, and does not yet feel the 
 influence of the regenerative fermentation now 
 working so perceptibly in Germany, I do not 
 deem it altogether impertinent to endeavour to 
 prepare a few minds to receive patiently and im- 
 petulantly the tender shoots which will, I trust, 
 spring up in the good time. There are many 
 reasons why the moderns can never succeed in 
 the pure classical execution of any given subject, 
 except at second-hand:, and, as the expected 
 
 1 To simplify and be perspicuous it is necessary to make 
 this broad opposition of terms, though it is neither 
 sufficiently delicate, nor indeed strictly philosophical.
 
 198 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 outbreak will be necessarily somewhat wild and 
 licentious, I think it better to dispose the public 
 to indulgence, by accustoming them to the flights 
 of the romantic masters, than to harden their 
 hearts and judgments by insisting on extreme 
 correctness and nice propriety. With such inten- 
 tion I endeavoured to call more real and general 
 notice towards the suavity, amorous languor, and 
 serpentine grace of Correggio, most commonly 
 obtained by the sacrifice of drawing and truth 
 (once or twice even of appropriateness and common 
 sense) ; and, in furtherance of it, I shall try to- 
 reconcile the intendenti to the somewhat repelling 
 inventions of a painter apparently far more ex- 
 travagant, though, in reality, more correct and 
 legitimate not with any wish to hold up these- 
 derelictions for imitation or praise, but merely to 
 prevent sterling genius from neglect and ridi- 
 cule on account of some superficial eccentricities. 
 I mean Giulio Pippi, surnamed Eomano, the 
 favourite disciple and, in mythic subjects, the 
 successful rival of D'Urbino ; and also the head 
 of a separate school, honoured by the names of 
 Francesco Prirnaticcio, Teodoro Ghisi, Kinaldo 
 Mantovano, Battista Bertano, and Giulio Campi 
 the Cremonese. The pictures occasionally ex- 
 hibited in England as the works of this master 
 will certainly not bear me out in the following 
 observations on his style ; neither will the frescoes 
 executed in the Vatican from the cartoons of 
 Kaffaello; but if you will turn over the folios 
 of Messrs. Woodburn, Molteno, and Colnaghi,,
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 199 
 
 I think we shall not materially disagree. Poussin 
 is vulgarly considered the most eminent in Grecian 
 fable : the visitors to Mantua know otherwise, and 
 that the agility, untrammelled motions, vigour, and 
 earnestness of Giulio's actors shew a far deeper 
 penetration into the spirit of the traditional days, 
 of the age of the demi-gods, than the painted 
 statuary of the Frenchman, classical and " high- 
 thoughts-creating" as it is. "We must form our es- 
 timate of Giulio's powers," says Fuseli, (2nd lecture) 
 " less from his tutored works at Eome, than from 
 the colossal conceptions, the pathetic or sublime 
 allegories and the voluptuous reveries, which 
 enchant in the Palazzo del T. near Mantua. What- 
 ever be the dimensions, the subject or the scenery, 
 minute or colossal, simple or complex, terrible or 
 pleasing, we trace a mind bent to surprise or to 
 dazzle by poetic splendour. But, sure to strike by 
 the originality of his conception, he often neglects 
 propriety in the conduct of his subjects, considered 
 as a series ; and in the arrangement or choice of 
 the connecting parts, hurried into extremes by the 
 torrent of a fancy more lyric than epic, he disdains 
 to till the intermediate chasms, and too often 
 leaves the task of connection to the spectator." 
 If the embellishments of this palace testify the 
 inexhaustibility of his fancy and the universality 
 of his pencil, his diversified attainments are dis- 
 played in the erection, any notices on the beauties 
 of which I shall leave to more able judges. The 
 outrageous contradictions of Giulio's tastes and 
 style make it difficult to arrest and stamp him
 
 200 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 with any unmistakable mark. He has more 
 grand and poetical conceptions than Kaffaello, and 
 commits more impertinences than Paolo Veronese. 
 Equal in simplicity to Fra. Bartolomeo, he dislocates 
 more limbs than Bandinelli or Goltzius. No one 
 ever understood the mechanism of the human 
 frame better, and nobody ever played such tricks 
 with it. His composition is as compact and united 
 as his chiaroscuro is unprincipled and frittered. 
 It is difficult to conceive any thing warmer, more 
 attractive, more in harmony with Tasso's chorus, 
 bella etd, del oro, than his amorous groups or 
 Bacchic scenery, or more repellant than his un- 
 genial tone and opaque colour with " its red-bricky 
 lights, violet demi-tints, and black shadows/' 
 From his mode of treating them, the most familiar 
 attitudes assume an importance and novelty, while 
 impossible twists wear without detection the pre- 
 rogatives of suppleness. Though thoroughly im- 
 bued with the grandeur of Homer and the purity 
 and beauty of the antique, he had an incessant 
 itch for grotesque deformity; a master of ex- 
 pression, he preferred the grimaces of an Italian 
 mountebank : with a mind capable of conceiving, 
 and a hand of executing everything joyous, gentle, 
 elegant and sublime, he revelled in brutal vul- 
 garity, depressing meanness, and diabolical torture ; 
 and he drops from the heaven of sanctity into 
 the abominations of Caprea. 1 In his choice of 
 
 1 In allusion to the lost Aretino prints, Fuseli says, " Some 
 have objected to the character of his physiognomies as 
 more salacious than enamoured, less simple than vulgar, 
 and often dismal and horrid, without being terrible."
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 201 
 
 attitudes he is at once endlessly various and 
 mannered; in folds and flying curls, apparently 
 natural, yet arbitrary; in the luxurious head- 
 dresses of his females, at once antic and modern, 
 classical and fantastic ; and, to crown the whole, 
 his ideas, young, lusty and full of sap, are starved 
 by the adust rigidity of his execution. Such are 
 the jarring elements of this master's works, whose 
 characteristic is an erudite universality : 
 
 Giulio's a mighty raging flood 
 That from some mountain flows ; 
 Rapid, and warm, and deep, and loud, 
 Whose force no limit knows. 
 
 He was a decided imitator of the antique ; but it 
 was of the kernel, not of the shell, like the modern 
 French school. He thought in their spirit, instead 
 of copying their remains. Thus he was always 
 original and racy. The vigorous vitality of his 
 own mind runs through all his compositions, and, 
 as the Faery wine tingles, like youth, along the 
 veins of the grey Sherasmin, 1 so does his breath 
 infuse life into a caput mortuum. He drags forth 
 some musty mythologic fable, re-models it, and, 
 placing it before our eyes in all its primaeval 
 bloom, commands and obtains our sympathies. 
 He will give you an appetite for any dish which 
 Ovid has sickened you with, and, like ^Eneas and 
 Othello, shall tell you his story over and over 
 
 1 See Wieland's Oberon, a beautiful romance, much in 
 need of congenial translation. In the meantime, I advise 
 you to read Mr. Sotheby's, if you have not already.
 
 202 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 again, while you shall listen like Dido and Des- 
 demona. Even his numerous and offensive ex- 
 travagances serve his purpose of striking and 
 riveting his works in the mind. Like Fuseli, he 
 may be ill-apprehended, but never despised ; you 
 may hate, but cannot forget; this is the preroga- 
 tive of only true and very high genius. You 
 shall be placed before Carlo Maratti, and be- 
 fore Guido, before Ann. Carracci, Albano, Dom- 
 enichino, Lanfranco, and Mignard, and stand 
 neuter on the question of their merits; but M. 
 Angelo's Brazen Serpent, Giulio's Eape of Hylas,. 
 Rembrandt's Crucifixion, or Fuseli's Hero and 
 Leander, shall compel you perforce to an elec- 
 tion ! It is peace or war intense love or 
 intense detestation ! and that mere wildness will 
 never have this effect is fully evidenced by 
 Kosso, Spranger, Van Mander, and Hemskirk. 
 Perhaps this last observation only applies to thosa 
 already initiated in the theory of the art, inasmuch 
 as it supposes the exercise of critical judgment ; 
 and judgment in painting, as well as in poetry, " is 
 an acquired talent which can only be produced by 
 deep thought, and a long continued intercourse 
 with the best models of composition ! " This un- 
 answerable truth should temper the rashness of 
 decision, and suggest, " that if painting be a subject 
 on which much time has not been bestowed, the 
 judgment may be erroneous, and in many cases 
 must be so." The proceedings and notions of peo- 
 ple who regard poetry and painting as matters of 
 amusement are immaterial ; but those who wish to
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 203 
 
 form their taste, and elevate their imagination, 
 must begin by submitting themselves humbly to 
 the acknowledged masters, imputing all want of 
 relish to their own immature or distorted vision,, 
 and taking especial care never to risque a criticism, 
 until fully satisfied that they enter into, and com- 
 prehend, the principles and aim of the object of 
 their study. This will ask some pains. The mys- 
 teries of Eleusis were not penetrated by the aspi- 
 rants in a day : many remained in the porches. 
 " Non uti Dccdaleam licet omnibus ire Corinthum" 
 " Every man's nose will not make a shoeing horn." 
 It happens not to every one to have brains of seal- 
 ing-wax, ready to melt in the Muse's flame, and 
 take the signet of Apollo. One thing, however, is 
 certain : viz., that he who never sets out will never 
 arrive at his journey's end. 
 
 Can we get in easily ? 
 
 Old Woman. The Greeks got Troy by trying for't, sweet 
 
 wench ! 
 All's got by trying. Elton's Tlieocritus. 
 
 I shall now endeavour to entice you on by a 
 slight descriptive sketch of one or two of Giulio's 
 inventions : and first for the Cephalus and Procris ; 
 a composition of seventeen animated figures which, 
 as a whole, bears us to the age when honey stilled 
 from oaks, and when no storms or frosts stripped the 
 green roofs from the " wons " of the sy Ivans. We 
 should read Moschus's Lament for Bion the sweet 
 Shepherd before looking at the picture, or study 
 the picture as a preparation for the Lament. We
 
 "204 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 have nearly the same images in both. For either 
 victim the high groves and forest dells murmur ; 
 the flowers exhale sad perfume from their buds ; 
 the nightingale mourns on the craggy lands, and 
 the swallow in the long- winding vales. "The 
 satyrs too and fauns dark-veiled groan," and the 
 fountain nymphs within the woods melt into 
 tearful waters. The sheep and goats leave their 
 pasture ; and Oreads, " who love to scale the most 
 inaccessible tops of all uprightest rocks," hurry 
 down from the song of their wind-courting pines ; 
 while the dryads bend from the branches of the 
 meeting trees, and the river moans for white 
 Procris " with many-sobbing streams," 
 
 Filling the far-seen ocean with a voice. Leigh Hunt. 
 
 The golden bees are silent on the thymy Hymettus ; 
 and the knelling horn of Aurora's love no more 
 shall scatter away the cold twilight on the top of 
 Pelion ! The foreground of our subject is a grassy 
 sunburnt bank, broken into swells and hollows 
 like waves (a sort of land-breakers) : rendered more 
 uneven by many foot-tripping roots and stumps of 
 trees stocked untimely by the axe, which are again 
 throwing out light green shoots. This bank rises 
 rather suddenly on the right to a clustering grove, 
 penetrable to no star, at the entrance of which sits 
 the stunned Thessalian king, holding between his 
 knees that ivory-bright body which was, but an 
 instant agone, parting the rough boughs with her 
 smooth forehead, and treading alike on thorns and 
 flowers with jealousy-stung foot now helpless,
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 205 
 
 heavy, void of all motion, save when the breeze 
 lifts her thick hair in mockery : 
 
 O God ! what does not one short hour snatch up 
 Of all man's gloss ! Still overflows the cup 
 Of his burst cares ; put with no nerves together, 
 And lighter than the shadow of a feather. 
 
 Chapman's Epicedium.. 
 
 From between the closely neighboured boles as- 
 tonished nymphs press forward with loud cries ; 
 
 And deer-skin-vested satyrs, crown'd with ivy twists, 
 
 advance ; 
 And put strange pity in their horned countenance. 
 
 Lselaps 1 lies beneath, and shows by his panting the 
 rapid pace of death. On the other side of the 
 group, virtuous love, with "vans dejected," holds 
 forth the arrow to an approaching troop of Sylvan 
 people, fauns, rams, goats, satyrs, and satyr-mothers,, 
 pressing their children tighter with their fearful 
 hands, who hurry along from the left in a sunken 
 path between the foreground and a rocky wall, on 
 whose lowest ridge a brook-guardian pours from 
 her urn her grief-telling waters. Above, and more 
 remote than the Ephidryad, another female, rend- 
 ing her locks, appears among the vine festooned pil- 
 lars of an unshorn grove. The centre of the picture 
 is filled by shady meadows, sinking down to a 
 river-mouth : beyond is " the vast strength of the- 
 ocean stream," from whose floor the extinguisher 
 
 1 Ovid says that he was transformed into a stone before 
 the present event ; but I don't chuse to believe him.
 
 206 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 of stars, rosy Aurora, drives furiously up her brine- 
 wanhed steeds, to behold the death-pangs of her 
 rival. I am not aware that Giulio ever painted 
 The Lament for Procris. 
 
 The print before me (by Giorgio Ghisi) is plainly 
 made from a drawing or paper sketch ; a custom 
 .among the old Italian engravers, easily proved by 
 M. Antonio's celebrated St. Cecilia with the Hack 
 Collar (a very fine impression of it is worth from 
 twenty to thirty guineas /) after a design of Eaf- 
 fae'llo, differing much from the picture engraved by 
 Bonasone, Strange, Massard, &c. ; by his Parnassus, 
 Judgment of Paris, the Virgin with the long Thigh, 
 &G. &c. Also by this very Ghisi's Angles of the 
 Sistine Chapel after M. Agnolo ; by Caraglio's 
 Loves of the Gods, The Labours of Hercules after 
 Eosso (le maitre Eoux), and The Marriage of thr, 
 Virgin ; and not to multiply examples, from Par- 
 megiano's Vulcan throwing the Net, by Gaspar 
 Eeverdinus and the same master's Mars and Ve- 
 nus, with Vulcan at the Forge (in its first state), 
 by ^Eneas Vicus, in which last EXTREMELY RARE 
 plate this fact is very apparent. I notice this to 
 account for the thick, coarse, careless outlines of 
 many old prints, as well as for the want of beauty 
 in the features ; which proceeded not from incom- 
 petency, but from neglect : the old masters satisfy- 
 ing themselves, in their pen-and-ink sketches, witli 
 the vividness and intelligibility of the composition, 
 .general character, harmony of lines, etc., without 
 .attending to the details. 
 
 And now, most pleasant of readers, I must take
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 207 
 
 off my hat to you. I had fully purposed, in this 
 article, to have lectured amply on Giulio ; and 
 then, touching lightly for the present on Prima- 
 ticcio, to have enjoyed myself among the elegant 
 groups of the seducing Parmegiano ; but this has 
 not been vouchsafed unto me to do. My fixed 
 limits are filled with most unintentional other guess- 
 stuff ; and the application of my prose motto from 
 " The learned Maister Selden " is as clear as this 
 glass of Sherris. However, the printer must con- 
 trive to edge in my little list below. VALETE. 
 
 Prints from Giulio Eomano. 
 
 The death of Procris ; inscribed at bottom, " Julius 
 Eomanus, inventor" and the chiffre of the engra- 
 ver, G. Mantuano (Ghisi), about 11. 11s. Qd. or 
 21. 2s. Od. according to the brilliancy of the im- 
 pression. Eetouched by Thomassinus, and bear- 
 ing his name, 5s. or 6s. 
 
 Ifylas, a Nymphis Raptus, a very singular yet 
 beautiful composition of twenty figures (includ- 
 ing dogs), very desirable, as characteristic of 
 his genuine style. Sante Hartoli.) 5s. or 6s. 
 perhaps not so much. 
 
 The Hours leading out the Horses of the Sun ; in 
 a very high taste of poetry: famous by the 
 criticism of Sir Joshua. (Ditto.} 2s. 6d. or 3s. 
 
 Jupiter suckled by the Goat Amalthea, and fed 
 with Honey by the Nymphs. (Ditto}. 3s. or 4s. 
 If you can spare the cash I advise you to buy 
 Bonasone's print (without name,) taken, as I
 
 208 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 should imagine, from a drawing : you will find 
 it either at Woodburn's or Colnaghi's, to a cer- 
 tainty, for 1Z. 14s. 6d. or 21. 2s. Od. N.B. It is 
 not one of Julio Ro's (as he signs himself some- 
 times) best things by any means ; but it has ten 
 times the feeling and ease of Bartoli's etching. 
 
 L 'Enfance de Jupiter; totally different from the 
 preceding. Prettily engraved by Patas, in the 
 Palais Koyal. 5s. 
 
 The Dance of Apollo and the Muses; from the 
 small picture, a very highly finished print, by 
 Eaphael Urbin Massard. 21. 2s. Od. or 11. 11s. 6d. 
 
 The Triumph of Vespasian ; large folio size, en- 
 graved, in the Crozat Collection, by L. Desplaces. 
 10s. or 7s. 6d. There are likewise two other 
 prints of this ; one in the Muste Frangais, and 
 the other in the little Galbrie de Fithol. 
 
 From Teodoro Ghisi. 
 
 Venus withholding Adonis from the Chase ; a very 
 rich upright; most elaborately finished by G. 
 Mantuano. I/. Is. Od. or 21. 2s. Od. I picked 
 up a beautiful impression of this scarce plate at 
 Mr. Triphook's, the bookseller, three or four 
 years ago, and never met with its fellow till the 
 other day at Mr. Colnaghi's. It now hides its 
 diminished head. 
 
 Mr. Triphook has now the finest St. Hubert by 
 Albert Durer, I suppose, that can be produced. 
 It is a match for my friend Weathercock's M. 
 Antonio, the far-famed St. Cecilia.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 209 
 
 <. Fan Umttboomg, fjts Bogmas for dilettanti. 1 
 
 No. III. 
 THE AMATEUR'S BOUDOIR, OR A VISIT TO JANUS. 
 
 Here from the mould to conscious being start 
 Those finer forms, the miracles of art ; 
 Here chosen gems, imprest on sulphur, shine, 
 That slept for ages in a second mine ; 
 And here the faithful graver dares to trace 
 A Michael's grandeur, and a Raphael's grace ! 
 Thy gallery, Florence ! gilds my humble walls, 
 And my low roof the Vatican recals ! Rogers. 
 
 And wot you what it is that we all here, that are come 
 to hear you, will request at your hands 1 
 
 No, verily ; but I shall know it when you have told me. 
 
 Marry, this it is : that you would now, in this rehearsal 
 of yours, lay aside all by-matters and needless preambles, as 
 touching the description of fair meadows, pleasant shades ; 
 of the crawling and winding ivie ; of rills issuing from 
 fountains running round about ; and such like common- 
 places, that many love to insert. Plutarch's Morals, by 
 Holland. 
 
 "THEN, if I understand your aim rightly 
 (which you'll excuse my thinking a little misty 
 sometimes), you propose to furnish incipient but 
 true amateurs with a sketch of a chalcographic 
 selection, illustrative of all styles having any 
 affinity to the fancy and imagination ; which plan 
 or skeleton may be afterwards filled up or not at 
 pleasure. Now, Mynheer V., your present method 
 
 1 [London Magazine, December, 1821.] 
 P
 
 210 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 of dilating on one painter for five or six pages to- 
 gether will hardly carry your pupils to the end 
 of their foundation in three years ; by which time 
 one-half of them may be dead, and the survivors 
 disgusted with ungratified longings. There is 
 another objection; suppose some one of tasteful 
 mind, but uncorresponding purse, has allotted 
 twenty guineas to the fine arts (which sum you 
 know very well, though Janus would lift up his 
 eyebrows, is sufficient for good sterling prints from 
 the chief pencils, including some plaister copies 
 from the antique, and the most elegant sulphurs 
 from Tassie's Greek gems) this person is unhappy 
 enough to enter the web of your harangues; to 
 a certainty, like other flies, he is fascinated, spell- 
 bound. His course is constrained to Colnaghi's: 
 modestly and coyly at first doth he inquire for 
 a single subject from Correggio or Giulio, and the 
 panting shopman hurls on the extra strong table 
 whole elephantine portfolios ! ! teeming with Vol- 
 patos, Mullers, Longhis, &c. If he resists, he is 
 more than mortal. Alas ! he does not. He buys 
 prints, one, two and three ! throws down the 
 amount with desperation, refuses all offers of 
 porterage, dashes home by the shortest ways, views 
 with unmixed delight his acquisitions for two 
 minutes, and then regrets the absence of "those 
 other two, which indeed were quite companions." 
 The fever rises high, he bolts an early dinner, and 
 gulps down an additional quantity of inflammation 
 in a vehicle of port. Now, loving brother or 
 sister ! The fetters ! The manacles !
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 211 
 
 Bind them around his hands ; with all thy force, 
 Strike, nail them fast, drive them into the wall ; 
 Strike harder, strain them, let them not relax ; 
 His craft will work unthought of ways t'escape. 
 
 Potter's 
 
 While I speak, he is gone, he is flown. Ah ! 
 -will no friendly pickpocket knock him across the 
 shins ? No ! His fingers spread over the slippery 
 lock, the fatal door opens ; and under the white 
 flame of gas his ruin is accomplished. The - 
 Number of Dogmas (MICHEL ANGELO) appears 
 with a maddening list, over which he, wretched ! 
 spends heavy sighs instead of light sovereigns ! 
 
 You, my Croney, feel this case intimately, and 
 therefore will remedy it forthwith, as far as in you 
 lies, by giving in this third number the prepara- 
 tory outline which should have preceded your 
 series of more detailed accounts. I am aware that 
 this outline would require much weighing and 
 considering, seemingly incompatible with the ad- 
 vanced stage of the month ; but I believe a walk 
 to our idle Janus's would spare your judicial 
 powers any trouble. You know his boudoir, The 
 Argument of his Collection, as he terms it. What 
 think you of a description of its principal contents ? 
 He seldom sits there except of an evening : so you 
 will be more undisturbed than at home; your 
 readers will be amused, and W nattered. Come ! 
 lie is not very well, and will thank you for the 
 visit." So said my respected friend S * * * * as 
 he concluded his breakfast with a pint of boiling 
 oocoa, after smashing in the little ends of two 
 exhausted egg-shells. 
 
 p 2
 
 212 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 His notion struck me as a lucky hit. Therefore 
 have the kindness, reader, to find yourself (as the 
 French advertisements have it) at our Croney's 
 bronze knocker, at the sound of which feet shuffle 
 over the stone hall, speeding 
 
 Aprir di Giano il chiuso tempio. Tasso. 
 
 The deity of the place was in his study, lolling 
 on a well-squabbed sofa, by the side of a blazing 
 fire ; his back guarded from the draft by a large 
 folding Indian screen, and his face from the flame 
 by a pole do. of yellow silk and rosewood. Beside 
 him was placed a small ridged table of French 
 manufacture, where lay his snuff-box, and several 
 antique cameos and intaglios, which he had just 
 been examining with a magnifier ; one, a head of 
 Alexander on an onyx of two strata, he still 
 retained, declaring it to be the undoubted work of 
 I forget who. My request was immediately 
 granted, and the servant ordered to light the fire 
 in his master's sanctum. " But sit down a minute 
 till the place gets a little aired ; I haven't been in 
 it these two months and tell me what you think 
 
 of that buhl cabinet; it came from Ld. 's 
 
 sale, who you know was a great connoisseur : 
 and here is a jewel ! This is a brick 1 from the 
 dwelling of the Pre-adamites from the palace of 
 Giamschid ! Istakar ! Observe the severity and 
 simple majesty of the old Persian head impressed 
 
 1 The curious reader will find some account of this 
 Persepolitan brick in the Archseologia some nine years back.
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 213 
 
 on its surface, the stiff curls of the beard, and the 
 peculiar bob- wig style of the hair ! Talking of 
 hair, how do you like my new dog ? Here, 
 Neptune ! " and forthwith, in size and colour very 
 like a white bear, that animal lounged from his 
 lair behind the screen, and plunged his nose into 
 his master's lap. " Show us your paw, old man ! 
 Look at the webbed toes ! right Newfoundland 
 there's muscle! by the bye, mentioning muscle, 
 I've a genuine bit of Terra Gotta from the hand of 
 M. Angelo, his clay sketch for the Aurora on the 
 tomb of Lorenzo di Medici : of which you have 
 the large dot print, by Madlle. Duclos, 9s. 6d. 
 That fine suit of fluted armour is new to you, 
 I believe, Vinkbooms? It's German, of about 
 1507. Dr. Eusty, who is armour-mad, offered me 
 400/. for it, but I would not part with it for 
 double. It illustrates Sintram ! A grand idea ! 
 apropos, this romantic Idyll of Fouque, ' The Siege 
 of Ancona' here in Ollier's Miscellany is very 
 congenially translated by Mr. H * * * who, I 
 understand, is about to introduce to us two more 
 of the Baron's most interesting tales, as companions 
 to his version of Sintram. He is the author of 
 a very deep, thorough-going, high-flying article, in 
 the German taste, on the German drama which, to 
 understand, you must read with rather more atten- 
 tion than one does Mr. Southey's articles in the 
 Quarterly. It is a good touch-stone for clear heads. 1 
 
 1 Take this fragment by Novalis (Von Hardenburgh) 
 quoted in the same article, as a specimen. " The world of 
 a, tale is the one diametrically opposed to the world of
 
 214 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 We are to have something from this gentleman 
 in the next livraison of the Miscellany, which I ar- 
 dently expect. Mr. Soane, who made so many 
 alterations in Undine (simply entitled by him a 
 Tale from the German), and modestly regretted that 
 he had not made more, has just completed a trans- 
 lation of Fouque's Sa'nger-liebe, in the preface to 
 which he attempts to be rather sharp on the En- 
 glish Sintram ; but his criticism is flippant, and his 
 wit ill-natured. Mr. S. is likewise engaged, or 
 ought to "be so, in the arduous task of pouring the 
 poetry of Goethe from a German into an English 
 vessel I have 32 pages of it (the Faust) here in 
 print, wherein he appears to have succeeded so far 
 unexpectedly well. No doubt the venerable John 
 Wolfgang's inspection of his MS. has been of ma- 
 terial utility, and will give his undertaking conse- 
 quence in the eyes of the public." " Allow me to 
 look at those sheets. Ah ! this is a very good idea, 
 the inserting the original on one side in oblong 
 quarto so as to bind with the genuine etchings. 
 So Soane has turned the sadly pleasing Ottava 
 Bima dedication or address in the Spenserian 
 stanza. I am afraid he has caught the vulgar 
 notion, that the verse in which Tasso sang the woes 
 of Erminia is more adapted for the ludicrous than 
 
 truth, and for this very reason as thoroughly similar to it 
 as chaos is similar to the perfect creation. In the future 
 world everything is as in the former world, yet altogether 
 otherwise ; the future world is the rational chaos ; the 
 chaos that has penetrated itself, that is within itself and 
 without itself ! ! "
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 215 
 
 the pathetic : he should read Fairfax, or the last 
 canto of Merivale's Orlando, and scorn the censure 
 of the Duncery. However, he makes amends by 
 giving the Induction, which is full of very just 
 satire on common play-goers and play-writers, 
 listen, S * * * *, how it ends, Manager loquitur 
 
 Upon our German stage, you know, each tries 
 Whate'er his fancy dictates. Spare not then 
 For scenery or machinery to-day. 
 Make use of Heaven's great and lesser light ; 
 Be lavish of the stars ; of water, tire, 
 Rocks, beasts, and birds, there is no scarcity. 
 Thus bring into our narrow house of wood 
 Creation's circle, and, with cautious speed, 
 Travel from Heaven through the earth to hell. 
 
 I am afraid the " Prologue in Heaven " is going 
 rather too near the wind for the good folks who 
 sing sacred melodies to the tune of Moll i' the Wad, 
 (see our No. for September p., 323,) and though our 
 faith and reverence for holy things are too stead- 
 fastly anchored to fear the impotent puffs of doubt 
 and mockery, yet it is as well to afford no handle 
 to the silly admirers of such puddle-stirrers as 
 
 and - , windy inconsistent minds: 
 
 which can gorge whole such palpably absurd 
 ravings as the creation of this all-perfect world by 
 chance, though they cannot conceive a paltry build- 
 ing like St. Paul's or St. Peter's to have arisen 
 from the efforts of the same able workman. This 
 is, indeed, to strain at a gnat and swallow a camel. 
 For my own part I regard this offensive scene, 1 as 
 
 1 This scene, though printed for the curious, will not be 
 published.
 
 216 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 some consider it, in the same light as the caprices 
 of the Abbot of Unreason. The Lord of it is not 
 my Lord ; he is simply the deity of a fairy tale. In 
 the works of several authors, ironies are put into 
 the mouths of even the human actors : In Faust, 
 the evil one himself is, as he ought to be, their 
 sole utterer. The language of the wretched hero is 
 
 very different hark! " Margaret. So, then, you 
 
 believe nothing ? : Faustus. Do not construe my 
 
 words so ill, charming creature ! Who can name 
 the deity, and say, I comprehend him ? Who can 
 feel, and not believe in him ? Does not Heaven 
 descend to form a canopy over our heads ? Is not 
 the earth immovable under our feet ? Do not the 
 eternal stars, from their spheres on high, look down 
 on us with love ?" On which passage Mad. de Stael 
 observes that " the author here shows the neces- 
 sity of a firm and positive belief, since even those 
 whom nature has created good and kind are not 
 the less capable of the most fatal aberrations when 
 this support is wanting to them." 
 
 But we shall discourse this together more at large 
 some future day. Boosey has published a very 
 pleasing abstract of this Labyrinthine poem, with 
 copious and sufficiently faithful versions in blank 
 verse which, maugre the apology in the preface, 
 can give the English reader no very satisfactory 
 idea of this Drama, written in the most varied 
 metres, principally rhymed, and which is essentially 
 lyrical, both in conception and execution. How- 
 ever, as "the preceding prelude" (so the traducteur 
 elegantly has it) and the 'prologue' are omitted, it
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 217 
 
 is more appropriate to the mere fashionable 
 seekers of semi-instructive amusement ; while its 
 rival by Mr. Soane will better satisfy the inquisi- 
 tive and thoughtful student in poetry, who may be 
 guiltless of German. Our Doctor's aspirations and 
 incantations in the first scene, beginning where he 
 opens the book at the sign of Microcosmos, " Ha ! 
 welche Wonne flieszt in diesem Blick," &c. down 
 to " Ich bins, bin Faust, bin deines gleichen !" have 
 more fervour and impetuosity in Soane ; but the 
 cadence of the Earth-Spirit's mystic strain " In 
 Liebensfluthen, im Thatensturm, &c." is better felt 
 in Boosey's prettily printed 8vo. 
 
 Spirit. In the floods of life, in the tempests of 
 
 action, 
 
 Up and down I rave ; 
 Hither and thither in motion ; 
 Birth and the grave, 
 An abounded ocean 
 A changing strife 
 A kindling life 
 
 At the rustling loom of Time I have trod, 
 And fashioned the living vesture of God. 
 
 Whenever I begin, I can go on reading the little 
 Almaine square 12mo. all day, but at present " I 
 must go fry some fish," as the honest Frenchman 
 said, in his ambition to use the English tongue with 
 unhallowed familiarity. So, S * * * *, I bequeath 
 you to Janus, who will show you the simple and 
 beautiful groups in his very tall copy of the 
 Hypnerotomachia (Aldus, 1499) : and don't be 
 turned aside by their smatch of Andrea Mantegna,
 
 218 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 for your oracle Stothard admires them highly, I 
 can promise you. Good day ! I shall not come out 
 till I have finished my CATALOGUE KAISONNEE," 
 " But stop, halt, stand ! My dear V. V. you would 
 oblige me much by noticing a series of Views on the 
 river Dart} ly F. Lewis. Here ! take them with 
 you, and hold the volume some two feet from your 
 nose when you examine it. Holm Moor, pi. 1. has 
 a very fine cut-throat sort of effect : and why 
 haven't you praised Dewint's romantic Sicilian 
 Scenery ? It is by far the best series of that 
 nature published by Messrs. Eodwell and Martin ; 
 and I know you have it, for I saw your name 
 down for the large paper, my lad ! And when 
 you're about it, you may as well brush up Dewint 
 about his Landscapes in the Tyrol, engraved by 
 clever W. Cooke : I want to know whether they 
 are to proceed beyond the first number or not 
 and look ! did you ever see a thing copied so ac- 
 curately, and with so much feeling, as this brilliant 
 little print by Scriven, after Hilton's natural and 
 characteristic portrait of Clare. What life in the 
 eyes ! what ardent thirst for excellence, and what 
 flexibility and susceptibility to outward impres- 
 sions in the quivering lips! observe the thigh 
 caught up unconsciously by the hand ! it does 
 Hilton's penetration credit to have arrested that 
 most unsophisticated and speaking action. Now 
 set off with you to your den, and let your pen fly ; 
 for the brace of pheasants come up precisely at 
 
 1 Scenery of the River Dart. 38 Plates, folio, 21. 8s. to. 
 non-subscribers.
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 219 
 
 six ! Not a line after ! S * * * * will stay ! Don't 
 shake your head, for you must, and you shall ! A 
 fig for the Doctor ! We'll sing Old Rose, and 
 brandish the old East India in style Fa Presto I 
 and don't tumble over my Hookah." 
 
 Now Mister Wight, 
 For whom I write, 
 
 follow me through this carpeted passage, down 
 these seven steps ! don't stop to look at that rusty 
 shirt of mail, nor at the modern gaudy-stained glass 
 which shuts out all back view, but forwards, into 
 this door with the gilt mouldings. Now, what say 
 you to Janus's BOUDOIR ? Bless us, who's in the 
 house? here's a gold pair of scissars and some 
 silk shreds ! Umph ! the place is wonderfully 
 aired in so short a time ! but, " let us take an 
 invention of Master Janus's defects," beginning 
 with a small plan of the room. First, then, it is an 
 octagon of about thirteen feet diameter, and full 
 sixteen in height; into which the light streams 
 through rosy panes in the dome top other 
 windows it hath none. You may fancy your- 
 self in utter solitude, for not a sound from 
 the street reaches here. Two doors hath it, con- 
 cealed with bright blue silk drapery, bordered 
 with crimson velvet and barbaric fringe. The op- 
 posite door to that by which we entered leads, 
 through a similar passage, to a small conservatory ; 
 where to read a good romance on a shiny day in 
 February may rank among the best of sensual 
 pleasures. The walls are covered with a very rich
 
 220 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 crimson French paper, formed into panels and 
 compartments with gold mouldings ; and the oak 
 floor is spread with a glowing Persian carpet. A 
 sweeping Ottoman, matching the curtains in hue, 
 offers its elastic cushions to the voluptuary, 
 opposite the fireplace ; on either side of which 
 stand marble-slabbed chiffonieres, containing such 
 embellished books as Wicar's "Galerie de Florence, 
 et du Palais Pitti." (Grand in fol. 17891813. 
 Paris, about 30 imported by Eodwell and Martin. 
 By far the most comprehensive of the modern 
 galleries, including pictures, statues, and the finest 
 gems.) Couches " Galerie du Palais royal." (3 vols. 
 fol. Paris, 1786 1808,354 prints,about 30.) "Mal- 
 vasia's Claustro di S. Michele in Bosco di Bologna." 
 (fol. Bologna, 1696, 20 etchings, after the best 
 pictures of Ludovico Carracci, Lionello Spada, &c. 
 2 2s.) Eubens's " Galerie du Luxembourg." (imp. 
 fol. Paris, 1710, 27 plates, by Duchance, Edelinck, 
 Picart, and B. Audran, from 5 to 10 guineas, 
 according to the impressions. The modern book 
 under the same title, Paris, 1808, is vastly inferior.) 
 Le Febre's selections from the Frescoes of Titian 
 and Paolo Veronese (fol. Venice, 1680, 51 etchings, 
 about 3 guineas.) Filhol's " Galerie du Muse"e 
 N"apole"on, (imp. 8vo. 10 vols. Paris, 1804, &c. 
 740 beautifully executed plates, 30)." " Eecueil 
 D'Estampes, &c. dit le Cabinet de Crozat." (2 
 vols. imp. fol. Paris, 172942, 182 prints from 
 the works of Perugino, Eaffaello, Giulio, Garofolo, 
 Caravaggio, Titian, Paolo Veronese, Tintoretto, 
 Giorgione, Schiavone, Guiseppino, Peruzzi, and
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 221 
 
 Girolamo Mutiano, 13. Large paper, in fine 
 condition, 25.) " Dubois-Maissonneuve's Pein- 
 tures des Vases Antiques, by Millin." (Paris, 
 1808 10, 2 vols. imp. fol. about 15 guineas plain, 
 and 30 coloured. The scarce and valuable collec- 
 tion of Vases, by D'Hancarville. (Naples, 1766, 
 &c. 4 vols. fol, 400 plates and upwards, coloured ; 
 a mass of elegant and unaffected attitudes and 
 costume, 30.) The subsequent assemblage formed 
 by Sir W. Hamilton, and published by Tischbein, 
 with the remarks and explanations of Italinsky, 
 (Napoli, 1791, 4 vols. fol. 240 outlines, 12 guineas.) 
 Millengen's Vases Grecs, (Eome, 1803, 71. 17s., 
 imported by Messrs. Eodwell and Martin, 60 plates 
 fol. copied from the originals with very rare and 
 praise-worthy accuracy.) "Murphy's Batalha" 
 folio. " L' Antichite di Ercolano." (Napoli, 1757, 
 &c. 9 vols. fol. ; a fine copy may now be had for 
 less than 40. This work was copied in a smaller 
 size by Piroli, in 6 vols. 4to, Eoma, 1789 about 
 12 guineas. Major Smith's "Old English Costume." 
 (fol. coloured plates, 15/.) Strutt's laborious works 
 on the same subject ; the " Ancient Armour " of 
 that ' fine fat fodjel wight ' Captain Grose ; and 
 Flaxman's Homer, Hesiod, and J^schylus. 
 
 The aforesaid slabs sustain several very fine 
 specimens of the Baffaelle china, particularly a 
 grand dish with the marriage of Cupid and Psyche, 
 of which there is a creditable print, by the Matt re 
 au de (see Bartsch. vol. xv. p. 210, No. 38) ; 
 some curious brown-biscuit teapots, fillagree- 
 worked ; and other crockery, both cracknell and
 
 222 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 green dragon ; which show their possessor's ample 
 range of taste and antiquarian science. An agree- 
 able chaos occupies the broad mantel-piece, consist- 
 ing of paper-nautili, king humming-birds in spirits, 
 gigantic moths, a noble Podilirius butterfly, a small 
 volume of " Heures," cased in a " kyver " of solid 
 silver gilt, wrought with quaint devices, and 
 studded with small brilliants and rubies, supposed 
 on good authority to have belonged to the unfortu- 
 nate and indiscreet Anne Boleyn. Cheek by jowl 
 to this, squats a little ugly monster, a Lar, perhaps, 
 dug up in the sunny fields of corn-bearing Sicily, 
 who grins eternally at a languishing dark-locked 
 beauty, inserted, by the surprising pencil of Petitot, 
 in an oval seven-eighths of an inch in height, set 
 in a rich-chased gold Louis Quatorze snuff-box. 
 That mouldy bit of corroded brass, no bigger than 
 one's oldest finger, is a Hercules with the snake- 
 and-damsel guarded apples ; deemed by the cog- 
 noscenti to equal in stupendous strength and 
 grandeur any of the famed minikin sublimities in 
 Mr. Payne Knight's collection of bronzes : and 
 unshapely, sweet young lady, as you seem to 
 think this humble earthen lamp, it once gave light 
 to the gay Quintia Sabella ! See, on its lid you 
 may trace the figure of a female, who holds wander- 
 ing Love suspended by the wings! Eound the 
 sides of that fictile vase, uxorious Cephalus, 1 clad 
 
 i In " a Petite Palace of Pettie his Pleasure," the argu- 
 ment to the legend of this Thessalian king commences 
 thus : " Cephalus, a lustie young gallaunt, and Procris, a 
 beautifull girle, both of the Duke of Venice' court," &c. ! !
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 223 
 
 in the modest single mantle (to use a phrase of 
 the zealous Latimer), his brows shaded with the 
 tooad petasus, and grasping in his hand two brass- 
 headed spears, flies, but with retorted head, from 
 the outstretched arms of a winged Aurora. Do 
 not the motion and grace of this composition excuse 
 the unknown artist's little vanity in stamping it 
 KAAOS ? J But let us go on. Here is the calf of 
 an antique leg, with the gastrocnemius muscle 
 finely pronounced ? That barbarous weapon, as it 
 may be termed, is a Norman " prycke " spur ; and 
 between it and the sacrificial instrument you have 
 a gold medal of Otho and a silver one of Julius 
 the Third. Those enamelled watch cases are 
 esteemed great curiosities, and so is the engraved 
 broken patera, which I am confident is Phoenician. 
 I should entreat your attention to that Scarabceus 
 in green paste, and that superb altissimo relievo on 
 cornealian, Jupiter jEgiochus, but that I am pressed 
 for time ; so let us despatch the remaining vanities 
 of this retreat quickly. At each of the right angles 
 are Sienna brackets, bearing eight bronzes, by the 
 famous John di Bologna: four from the antique 
 and four from his own designs. These contrast not 
 unpleasantly with the pale gleam of two noble 
 Christi Crucifixi, one carved in ivory, the other 
 
 1 This expression, so common on fine vases, is conceived 
 by the hasty Millin to refer to one of the personages depic- 
 ted, instead of the painting itself ; and in order to suit this 
 fancy, he hooks me on the KE*AAO2 to the adjective, and 
 translates his combination " Ctphale beau! f" when the 
 proper designation is undoubtedly L'Aurore et Cephale. 
 C'est beau.
 
 224 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 moulded in wax, elevated over the opposite doors. 
 Our friend's gilt-poled screen, I grieve to say, is 
 modern; however, he has the promise of one 
 worked in chenille by the fair hand of Pompadour. 
 The large circular kingwood table is in the same 
 predicament ; but then it is Parisian, and the buhl 
 foliage is really very tastily fancied ; besides, it is 
 generally hidden by the silver inkstand, the citron- 
 morocco paper-folio (the tooling of which by Lewis 
 cost, / know, twelve guineas !) and some sprinkle 
 of books like the present. What are they by the 
 way ? Barry Cornwall's Dramatic Scenes, open at 
 " the Dream ; " aye, that's one of his hardest 
 blows. Thomas Taylor's " Commentary on Pro- 
 clus ;" "Howleglass;" "Bates's Funeral Sermon 
 for Mr. Baxter ; " Adelung's " Mithridates," and 
 Schweighseuser's folio Herodotus. Mercy upon us, 
 this is Janus's Jumble with a vengeance ! Now 
 seat yourself in that remarkably soft-cushioned 
 Grecian chair: rest both feet on the azure foot- 
 stool, and amuse yourself with examining - those 
 double ranges of prints, so gaily framed in rosewood 
 or polished oak, whilst I note down the most 
 notable. First is the 1 Delphic Sybil of M. Angelo, 
 
 1 The articles having a star prefixed, form (with Perier's 
 Icon.es et Segmenta, ob. folio, Paris, 1545, ,1 Is.) Kirk's 
 Greek Vases (imp. 8vo. 1 Is. 62 plates), a few select im- 
 pressions from Tassie's Gems, to be enumerated hereafter, 
 five plasters from the Antique, viz. the Apollo, the Fight- 
 ing Gladiator, the Sleeping Hermaphrodite, the Grecian 
 Shepherdess (La Venus de belles fesses), and the fragmental 
 Venus or Dione in the British Museum), a small, but most 
 comprehensive assemblage of the fine arts, the whole cost of
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 225 
 
 (Volpato, 10s. 6^.) panting with the divine afflatus, 
 which expands her mighty limbs to a yet grander 
 dimension. See "how she toils in troublous 
 extasy ! " while Divination, like a deep warm 
 mist, swells surging round her. If you feel not 
 the sublimity of this glorious creature, shrink with 
 wordless shame into your nutshell-mind, most 
 pitiful cockney ! and dare not lift your eyes to the 
 * Sistina fresco, where, to use the eloquent language 
 of Fuseli, in his third Lecture, p. 126, 2nd edition, 
 "The Creator, borne on a group of attendant 
 spirits, the personified powers of omnipotence, 
 moves on towards his last, best work, the lord of 
 his creation. The immortal spark, issuing from 
 his extended arm, electrifies the new-formed being 
 who, tremblingly alive, half raised, half reclined, 
 hastens to meet his Maker." (Cunego, 5s.) You 
 must remember a few years ago, at the British 
 Institution (it hung in the north room, on the left- 
 hand side as you came up-stairs), a small picture 
 by Marcello Venusti, from the design of M. An- 
 gelo, which excited great attention at the time 
 (the ex-animate body of Christ, supported on the 
 
 which would not exceed twenty "guineas ! Though, with 
 regard to the choice of masters, I am decided, it is by no 
 means my wish to tie every one down to my choice of subjects, 
 for which reason I have offered several others, perhaps 
 equally good, though I fear hardly so reasonable. Indeed, 
 if it were possible for me to place the prints themselves (as 
 I wish I could do) before the eyes of my indulgent and 
 flattering readers, they would be agreeably surprised to find 
 what fine things may be had for a comparatively trifling 
 sum. 
 
 Q
 
 226 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 lap of his mother by two wingless cherubim). 
 There is Bonasone's very scarce and delicate print 
 of it (3 to 12 guineas) ; and a brilliant impression, 
 matchless in condition, having " three inches " of 
 clear unwashed original margin!!! 1 Next to it 
 is Louis Schiavonnetti's masterly finished etching 
 of that celebrated performance which, 'by the 
 united testimony of contemporary writers and the 
 evident traces of its imitation scattered over the 
 works of contemporary artists' (that scoundrel 
 Bandinelli's St. Lawrence, 2 to wit), ' contributed 
 alone more to the restoration of art and the 
 revolution of style than the united efforts of the 
 two centuries that preceded it:' I mean the 
 * Cartoon of Pisa (10s. 6d. folio size), which 
 represents a band of Florentine soldiers, hurrying 
 from their bath in "Arno's pleasant stream," at 
 the call of the fierce brass, and the shifting flash 
 of steel breaking through a brown shroud of dust 
 in the direction of Pisa. From the naked chief 
 who shoots his summons through his thick beard 
 over the vext waters, " every age of human agility, 
 every attitude, every feature of alarm, haste, hurry, 
 exertion, and eagerness, burst into so many rays, 
 like sparks flying from the hammer." Poussin, in 
 
 1 The late Lord Webb Seymour paid, not long before 
 his death, 401. for M. Antonio's Parnassus, with a five inch 
 margin ! I have an excellent impression (perfect) of the 
 same, which cost 81. 
 
 2 That multitudinous composition, or rather distraction, 
 so well engraved by M. Antonio, in return for the repeal of 
 the decree of banishment : which repeal Avas procured 
 through the good offices of the said Baccio.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 227 
 
 his Sacrament of Baptism, has but faintly imitated 
 that 'grim feature/ the bald-stringy-muscled 
 veteran, crowned with oak leaves, who with 
 breath held, cheeks contracted and starting tem- 
 poral veins, drives his wet leg through' the 
 scrooping hosen. Yet this print, fiery as it is, is 
 still but the shadow of a shade, a copy by 
 Schiavonnetti from a painting by Mr. Howard, 
 -after a small copy of Bastiano San Gallo, reduced 
 from the original sketch for a large picture, of 
 which the group before us was to have constituted 
 but a part. 
 
 * Giorgione's " Pastorale" (Nic. Dupuy, sculpt. 6s.) 
 consists of a partie quarree, in a meadow very 
 savor ous with sweet herbs and scented flowers, 
 and unibrous with orange and cedar trees, who 
 might well be taken for our old friends Philo- 
 stratus, Lauretta, Pampinea, and Dioneus (which 
 last slender-loined gallant seems tuning his rebeck 
 to the canzonet "If love were free from jealousy"} 
 save that more white skin is discovered than 
 might befit such decorous ladies. Nevertheless, in 
 point of site, there is much resemblance. Lo ! the 
 marble fountain, round the which they gathered 
 to relate those tales, and yonder its overflowing 
 water "streaming along the meadows by secret 
 passages and channels, very fair and artificially 
 made ; running swiftly thence down towards the 
 plain, but before it arrives thither, driving, with its 
 rapid current, two goodly mills : and though I see 
 neither " the coneys and hares tripping about," nor 
 "thelittleyounghinds feeding every where," yet truly 
 Q2 ~
 
 228 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 " the goats browse on the herbs without strife or 
 warring together :" those vine and almond-covered 
 ground-plots, sweeping down from the mountains, 
 " whereon the sun looks so hotly, do grow less and 
 less by variable degree, as in theatres :" and in the 
 right-hand distance is the breezy lake, " contain- 
 ing such huge shoals of fish." I observe you don't 
 relish Burnet's Eembrandt-like etching after that 
 great master's * Balneum Batlishcbcc, (11. 11s. 6d) 
 but I think you will stomach the corn-cutting, and 
 small-tooth-comb work better after glancing over 
 Janus's eulogium on it, in the 3rd or 4th Number 
 of the LONDON MAGAZINE: perhaps that master- 
 piece of C. Marratti * (the same story, Auden 
 Aerd. 7s.) is more germane to your ideas of Uriah's 
 wife. Fuseli (a despiser, of course, of the insipid 
 Carlo) pronounces this picture to be " a work of 
 which it is easier to feel than to describe the 
 charms ; which has no rival ; and seems to 
 preclude all hope of equal success in any future 
 attempt." There is Veronese's* Leda (Eomanet, 5s.) 
 formerly a blazing star in the Orleans collection, 
 afterwards exhibited at the Lyceum ; a charming 
 picture, at once striking and harmonious in effect ; 
 which, besides the usual freshness and delicacy of 
 Paolo's pencil, possesses a truth of passionate 
 expression not surpassed by the leaders of expres- 
 sion's own peculiar school the Eoman. By the 
 omission of the swan and the introduction of 
 a shadowy hand, round-ankled Leda has been con- 
 verted by Fuseli into ' Sin receiving the keys of 
 Hell-gates;' a dashing recollection struck out
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 22$ 
 
 while the original was hot in his mind. These 
 strenuous primeval forms (*Fuseli's Adam and 
 Eye, \l. Is. Haughton), embody the pathetic and 
 heartfelt lines of Milton, when Adam, after the 
 fatal lapse of Eve, declares that the enemy 
 
 Me with thee hath ruined ; for with thee 
 Certain my resolution is to die. 
 How can I live witJwut thee ? how forego 
 Thy sweet converse, and love so dearly joined, 
 To live again in these wild woods forlorn ! 
 
 * * * no, no ! I feel 
 
 The link of nature draw me : flesh of my flesh, 
 Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state 
 Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe. 
 ###### 
 
 So saying she embraced him * 
 
 * * * much won that he his love 
 Had so ennobled, as of choice t' incur 
 Divine displeasure for her sake, or death. 
 
 In the background, beyond the broad leaves of 
 the bower, the angelic guards wind through the air 
 to heaven, " mute and sad for man." The print, 
 1 am sorry to say, though laboriously copied, has 
 a square, hard, clumsy look, not perceptible in the 
 richly impasted picture. 
 
 I need hardly name Watteau as the inventor of 
 that most piquant scene (* Le Bosquet de Bacchus. 
 Cochin, sculpt. 5s.) though you may not so im- 
 mediately distinguish its companion (*Les agre- 
 inens de la campagne. Jouillain, sculpt. 5s.) to be 
 the production of Lancret, his clever imitator. 
 Did you ever meet with such nice, pleasant, good- 
 for-nothing people ? Turn away from them to
 
 230 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 that melting, gliding, awkward, graceful, affected,, 
 easy, pure, voluptuous, heavy, airy, perfect, faulty, 
 irresistible group, the refined Parmegiano's *St. 
 Margaret, Virgin, Bambino, St. Jerome, St. Petronio, 
 and an angel ; painted for the altar of St. Mar- 
 garet's church, Bologna. It was once slightly 
 engraved by Bonasone, and lately in a delicate and 
 sentimental gusto by Eosaspina, (15s.) a better, 
 because a more painter-like, burin than the ex- 
 quisite Beppo Longhi. Massard's large print from 
 Giulio Eomano (21. 2s.) turn your chair round, if 
 you please ! has not yet met with its due share of 
 regard : it represents the Muses as 
 
 They lightly leap in dance 
 
 With delicate feet ; who having duly bathed 
 
 Their tender bodies in Perinessian streams, 
 
 In springs that gush'd fresh from the courser's hoof, 
 
 Or blest Olmius' waters, many a time 
 
 Upon the topmost ridge of Helicon, 
 
 Their elegant and amorous dances thread, 
 
 And smite the earth with strong-rebounding feet. 
 
 Thence breaking forth tumultuous, and enwrapt 
 
 With the deep mist of air, they onward pass 
 
 Nightly, and utter, as they sweep on high, 
 
 A voice in stilly darkness beautiful. 
 
 Elton's Hesiod. 
 
 I cannot let you stop to examine Eaffaello's *" 
 School of Athens now (Volpato, 11. 11s. 6d.); it 
 would hold us a day, and then retain us still : we 
 must likewise pass over for the present Eubens's 
 tumultuous * Lion Hunt (Bolswert, II. 10s., the- 
 ne plus ultra of engravings), and his * Hay-field 
 after a Shower, with the Eainbow, (ditto, 7s.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 231 
 
 to Poussin's * Polyphemus piping on the Moun- 
 tain (Baudet, 15s. one out of a set of eight), the 
 picture which suggested to L. Hunt a very pretty 
 passage in his Rimini and to Mr. Cornwall some 
 lines commencing 
 
 Here on a rock that shot up, bare and gray, 
 Sat piping the vast giant Polypheme. 
 
 You are now looking at Da Vinci's * Virgin of 
 the Eocks (Desnoyers, I/, lls. 6d. or 21. 2s.), cele- 
 brated by the lines of Charles Lamb, resembling so 
 much the early hymns of Milton. 
 
 While young John runs to greet 
 The greater infant's feet, &c. 
 
 Works, vol. i. p. 51. 
 
 But, fine as it is, how vastly inferior to that larger 
 proof without the engraver's name ! (The Virgin 
 seated on the lap of St. Ann, stretching out her 
 arms towards the never-equalled group of the Child 
 and Lamb, 21. 2s.) A singular and puzzling com- 
 position painted, as it is believed, by Salaino, after 
 the cartoon of Leonardo ; an engraving which I 
 would part with last of all this little collection. 
 Of the similar subject by it (Anker Smith, sculpt, 
 after the famous drawing in the Eoyal Academy, 
 12s.) Vasari says, "that for two days people of all 
 sorts, men and women, young and old, resorted to 
 Leonardo's house, to see this wonderful perform- 
 ance, as if they had been going to a solemn feast." 
 The fickle artist, however, never went beyond the 
 sketch ; from which a picture was afterwards made
 
 232 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 by Bernardino Luini, his pupil, known by the 
 print in Filhol's Musee Napoldon, I advise Col- 
 naghi and Molteno to import a few impressions 
 immediately of those beautiful plates from Da 
 Vinci, " The Magdalen with the alabaster cruse," 
 (Dilexit multum. Eicciani, 10s. 6d.) and Miss 
 Lamb's favourite, " Lady Blanche and the Abbess," 
 commonly called "Vanitas et Modestia," (Carnpa- 
 nella, 10s. 6d.) for I foresee that this Dogma will 
 occasion a considerable call for them let them 
 therefore be ready. A dozen of Foster's somewhat 
 too black gravure * La Maitresse du Titian (II. 5s.) 
 may be ordered at the same time. Also they will 
 scratch together some clean copies of * the Descent 
 from the Cross by Volterra and M. Angelo, 
 (Dorigny, scarce, 18s.; very fine, \l. lls. 6e?.) 
 Duchange's * lo (5s.), after Correggio. Giulio Eo- 
 mano's * Eape of Hylas, (5s.) M. Angelo's * Joel, 
 (Volpato, 10s. Qd.) and Domenichino's * Com- 
 munion of St. Jerome (Jaco. Frey, 7s. or 8s. far 
 superior to the despicable piece of mere mechanism, 
 by Tardieu). Now, my silent companion, having 
 nearly got through our job, we will turn to the 
 
 " The dinner's 'pon table, Sir !" " Very well, 
 
 William !" 
 
 P.S. On the following morning, among my 
 starred articles I omitted to insert Correggio's 
 beauteously divine and heart-thawing conception of 
 our Incarnate Lord, whose mortal limbs, exuding 
 the faint sweat of agony, and dyed in blood from 
 the whistling scourge and the spiny crown, are 
 thrust staggering with weakness before that yelling
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 233 
 
 sea of worse than wolfish cruelty. Let some of our 
 pert, because ignorant, would-be Deists give half 
 as much attention to this print and the accom- 
 panying simple recital of St. Mark, as they do, or 
 pretend to do, (which is nearer the truth) to the 
 headless Ilyssus, and they will feel the long-dried 
 fountain of sweet waters spring again in their 
 hearts. 
 
 The ensuing list of most interesting plates from 
 Filhol's Musee Napoldon, at Is. 6d. a piece, may, 
 with the excess of some 4s. be comprised in the 
 proposed 20 guinea collection which, if purchased 
 with a little caution and ready money, will consist 
 of very good impressions : 
 
 Painters. Subjects. Engravers. 
 
 Sacchi, St. Romuald, Dambrun. 
 
 Potter, Animaux dans line Priarie, Duparc. 
 
 M. A. Caravaggio, . Christ an Tombeau, Bovinet. 
 
 Titian, Pietro Martire, Do. 
 
 Antique Statue, . . . Eros (L' Amour Grec), Massarcl. 
 
 Poussin, L'Education de Bacchus, Niquet. 
 
 Fra Bartolomeo, ...St. Marc, Dambrun. 
 
 Rubens, Venus et Adonis, Villerey. 
 
 Titian, Francis I, Boutrois. 
 
 Da Vinci Portrait de Femme, Dague. 
 
 Piombo, La Visitation de la Vierge, 
 
 very fine Piegot. 
 
 Domenichino, Le Concert, Geraut. 
 
 Del Sarto Christ au Tombeau, called the 
 
 Raft'ael del Sarto, Massard. 
 
 Correggio Le Mariage de Ste. Catherine,..Do. 
 
 Paris Bordone, Mars et Venus, Heina. 
 
 Raffaello, La Diergeau Ponataire, Pigeot. 
 
 Wouvermans, Depart pour la chasse du 
 
 Faucon, Niquet.
 
 234 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 And now, my pupils, I will do a very handsome 
 tiling ; for if any of you, living west of tlie Strand, 
 will ensure me a roast leg of mutton and potatoes, 
 a glass of good port, and an air from a pretty lady, 
 married or single, I will, at a three days' summons r 
 unless better engaged, with my very best loons on, 
 deliver my judgment gratis on all matters con- 
 nected with taste, past, present and to come. 
 Witness our hand, from our pomona-green mo- 
 rocco chaise longue. 
 
 LETTER TO CORNELIUS VAN VINKBOOMS, ESQ. 1 
 
 ON THE EXETER EXHIBITION OF PAINTINGS. 
 
 Exeter, 16 Oct., 1821. 
 
 DEAR MR. VAN VINKBOOMS, I am an old man 
 and a lover of old pictures, and I take the privilege 
 of age to address you with that marked affection 
 which you will not dislike, when you know that 
 I read your dogmas the first among the articles 
 in the LONDON MAGAZINE, and that I learn 
 enough from them to set me up as a connois- 
 seur in this western city. As you are a sort of 
 foster-father to the fine arts, and look after the 
 sister Muses with a careful and parental eye, I am 
 
 [ x Query from himself. London Magazine, November, 1821-1
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 235 
 
 quite sure that you will regard any advancement 
 of their influence and welfare as so much achieved 
 by your constant labours in their behalf : and I 
 therefore venture for nearly the first time in my 
 life (having only written papers on political econo- 
 my in a country newspaper which, however, were 
 readily inserted on my merely paying the common 
 price of an advertisement), to address these few 
 lines to inform you that Painting hath set her 
 blessed foot in the west that she is rising like a 
 sun in this quarter (which, let alone its not being 1 
 the east, is the truest and most apposite figure that 
 I can adopt). The mists of ignorance are rolling 
 away towards the distant villages, and we are be- 
 ginning to break forth with a splendour which will 
 rival the proud lustre of Plymouth (the birth-place 
 of Sir Joshua Eeynolds and Eastlake) and the en- 
 lightened glories of Birmingham (the birth-place of 
 no one). 
 
 It has long been considered, dear Mr. Cornelius, 
 a desideratum or, anglic, a thing to be desired, 
 that Exeter should add to its agreeable theatre 
 (that theatre from which the great Mr. Kean was. 
 selected), to its public assemblies, and its archi- 
 tectural riches, an institution for the encourage- 
 ment of the fine arts ; and at length, partly by the 
 exertions of a respectable tradesman of the name 
 of Cole (a dealer in drawings and looking-glasses),, 
 and chiefly by the instantaneous exertions of the 
 nobility of Devon such an institution has been 
 formed. Application having been made to the 
 principal persons of wealth and taste in the county
 
 23G ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 for the loan of their pictures, to form an exhibition 
 for the delight, glory, and instruction of the inhabi- 
 tants of Exeter, the Earl of Morley, Sir Thomas 
 Ackland, Lord Clifford, Mr. Bielfield, and others, 
 with a most praiseworthy alacrity supplied a few 
 of their paintings towards forwarding the plan; 
 and with many disappointments, and under con- 
 siderable disadvantages, a small and interesting 
 exhibition has been opened. I myself furnished 
 my solitary little landscape, leaving a great yellow 
 stain on the white panel of my best drawing- 
 room, to bear testimony of my zeal in the cause. 
 Certain it is, Mr. Cornelius, that more might have 
 been done ; for it is not to be supposed that Sir 
 Thomas Ackland's best picture is the faded por- 
 trait of one of his ancestors by Sir Joshua Keynolds ; 
 or that his collection is so limited as to afford no 
 more than four trifling works ; but let me not un- 
 dervalue the sanction of his name to an undertaking 
 in the bud, as I may poetically call it. Sir Stafford 
 Xorthcote (a relation of the great Northcote the 
 painter, I presume,) indeed discouraged the attempt 
 at first, as I am informed ; but on seeing that others 
 thought it practicable, he begged that one of his 
 pictures might be inserted in the room, and his 
 name in the catalogue. There appears to be a 
 cowardly feeling of the way, and not a march at 
 once to success ! The best works indeed I may 
 say almost the only works worth seeing, are 
 from the collection of a Mr. W. Kendall a 
 worthy and intelligent gentleman of these parts, 
 who has contributed with a liberal hand. There
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 237 
 
 are a few, a very few, fine portraits, by Opie, 
 Northcote, and Owen ; particularly one of North- 
 cote's own fine sensible head ! And a very rich, 
 ripe, old landscape, A Flemish Revel, by Ostade 
 and Tenders (worth the price of admission and 
 catalogue in itself), which I look at again and again 
 without tiring, and which I point out to my chil- 
 dren as a warm, glowing, fruitful specimen of the 
 old masters. You will be glad to hear that the fine 
 arts (to take up my first figure) are dawning in the 
 west, and I rejoice, that I am one of the first to 
 announce to you such gratifying intelligence. Pray 
 encourage us, Mr. Van Yinkbooms ! Pray tell Mr. 
 Cole that he is a laudable person pray impress 
 upon the nobility and gentry of Devon, that by 
 taking a lukewarm interest in this important work 
 they are letting slip an opportunity of doing a great 
 service to their county. Up with your voice, Mr. 
 Van Vinkbooms, up with it, and awaken this slum- 
 bering enthusiasm of Devonshire men ! Halloo ! 
 to the heart of Sir Thomas Ackland ! Speak aloud 
 into the ears of the Earl of Egremont, and spare 
 not ! Thunder into the mind of Mr. Dickenson ! 
 Call out, and awaken to the watch, Mr. W. A. 
 Harris ! The sister Muses are now likely to obtain 
 a seat here ; and I trust, I do trust, Mr. Cornelius 
 will give them his vote which, in the election for 
 fame, is a plumper ! 
 
 I am, dear Mr. Van Vinkbooms, 
 
 Yours extremely, 
 SENEX.
 
 238 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 LETTER FROM JANUS WEATHERCOCK, ESQ. 1 
 
 *** Janus Weathercock (Esquire, God wot) is alive ! 
 We have received aright merry epistle from him, which we 
 readily print, because it is so pleasantly impertinent and 
 so ridiculously critical. If any of our contributors should 
 recognise his allusions to them, which his use of their 
 occasional signatures may assist, we wish him well ! 
 [Ed. L. M.] 
 
 Worshipful master ! I have a great deal of, I cannot 
 tell what, to say to you. Ford. 
 
 SIR, or Gentlemen, I have not been a contribu- 
 tor to your invaluable miscellany (as " Constant 
 Headers " have it) for a long time, and I doubt not 
 but that your profits have been in correspondence 
 with my leisure. The fact is, you have got a deal 
 too good for me and my sentimentalities ; and I 
 should never have troubled your compositor more 
 if I had not fancied that you would also shoot 
 a-head of the heavy-sailing public. From your 
 last Lion's Head 2 I learnt that other folks are 
 willing to serve you as the Caliph Omar did the 
 Alexandrian library, and render the London less 
 full of literature. Now, dear invisibilities, I would 
 
 f 1 London Magazine, May, 1822.] 
 
 [ 2 A heading which followed the title of each of the 
 early numbers, and covered any miscellaneoiis items, which 
 the editor did not desire to insert elsewhere.]
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 239 
 
 just hint, that my claims to be employed in this 
 sort of service are more legitimate; and, as a 
 single proof in point, I shall simply adduce the 
 well-established fact, that my hair-triggers will 
 snuff a candle at twenty paces. Apply your 
 organs of self-curativeness to this extremely per- 
 spicuous line of reasoning, and you will grant the 
 Rob Roy 1 justice of my demands. This being 
 arranged amicably, allow me to ask if you have 
 properly considered the legitimate (an exceeding 
 good word, as Justice Shallow says of accommodate) 
 nature (by which I imply the customary and 
 accustomed nature) of Magazines ? This must at 
 first strike you as an odd question for the end of 
 the fifth volume ; but a little thought will develope 
 its pertinence. The vital aim of a Review was, 
 and is staringly obvious ; viz., to furnish a little 
 compendious way to the Stagyrite's chair, for 
 those who lack the ability or the will (which is 
 pretty much the same thing in effect) to travel the 
 regular rutty road. The invention took wonder- 
 fully, for now any given laudably-ambitious Mister 
 Stagg might make certain of six penn'orth of 
 critical acumen, which he could disburse by judg- 
 matical pinches to an admiring circle of ladies 
 and gentlemen, who had not seen the last * * * * 
 Review. But the composers of this "literature 
 made easy for the meanest capacities," have 
 
 The good old plan, 
 
 That those shall take who have the power, 
 And those shall keep who can. 
 
 Wordsworth.
 
 240 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 shown themselves short-sighted, for having suc- 
 ceeded in subverting all genuine existing litera- 
 ture, and rendered the ground nearly impracticable 
 to the immediate future, they find their prospects 
 assimilated to those of Epirian Pyrrhus, in his 
 concluding engagements with the Eomans. The 
 public, at the expense of many half-crowns, has 
 wormed out the secret of their fight, and is rapidly 
 throwing off the trammels of its alarmed tutors ; 
 which is as much as to say in King's English 
 (which Sir Walter Scott cannot write) that any 
 lady within the boundary of gentility (coloured 
 red in Mogg's map) or out of it perhaps, can 
 dissert on the merits or demerits of the aforesaid 
 Sir W.'s last novel, with as good emphasis, and 
 better matter than any given peevish little Editor 
 of a Eeview. But this is nothing to the purpose,. 
 I believe ; yet let it go for a huge parenthesis, in 
 which article I ding old Chapman, our noble 
 English Homer. Where was I ? Oh ! ah T 
 " nature of Magazines." Yes ! well, I leave you 
 to ponder over my query, satisfied that I have 
 awakened you to a very weighty and necessary 
 preliminary to improvement ; yet before I put yours 
 faithfully, $c., to this scrawl (in the postscript to 
 which you will find a list of pretty books for sofas 
 and sofa-tables) I cannot help forcing a word of 
 advice. Don't act over again the fable of the Old 
 Man and his Ass. You have entered a bold 
 speculation in attempting to establish a real 
 literary Magazine. Towards such a plan no en- 
 couragement could be expected from the largest
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 241 
 
 class of magazine readers, as magazines were 
 originally got up ; you had no recipes for the tooth- 
 ache, no charades, no disinterested letters b Agri- 
 cola (" with a wood-cut,") on the new propelling 
 shafts, no paper on an ancient Highland knee- 
 buckle, no drunken songs, no paltry French 
 romances, and no scandal. You had to work your 
 way into a new society, somewhat difficult of 
 access at first, but whose ultimate acquaintance 
 would repay all endeavours to obtain it ; inasmuch 
 as there only could your worthy matter be worthily 
 entertained and censured. This introduction is 
 accomplished ; and, to spread the connexion still 
 wider, it is only necessary that you should not be 
 wanting to yourselves ; therefore rouse up bravely 
 in the warm spring time, and advance your out- 
 posts still higher up the mount of green-flowering 
 Helicon. 1 Clap Elia on the back for such a series 
 of good behaviour. Flog your strong horse, 2 
 " Lyddal-cross" up to the mark of Allan-a-Maut, 
 or the King of the Peak, which will be a good 
 swinging trot, like a gallop. Be so obliging as to 
 ask our idler by the green sea, 3 wherefore he gave 
 up the fourteen syllable measure (which becomes 
 
 1 Janus is getting critical. " The bad bit is coining, 
 your honour," as Miss Edgeworth's postilion says. Mr. 
 Weathercock lays about him handsomely, but, like the 
 Irish duellist, he often hits the wrong man. 
 
 2 We have no horse, " nor ass neither," among our con- 
 tributors. Unfortunately for Mr. Weathercock's metaphor, 
 the author [Allan Cunningham] of the tales of Lyddal- 
 cross is a very slight gentleman in delicate health. 
 
 3 Qu. Rambler. 
 
 E
 
 242 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 him so well) in the Hymn to Ceres remind him r 
 too, that we have never had a satisfactory specimen 
 of an English ^Eschylus or Euripides ; and that 
 some good things might be picked out of Quintus 
 Calaber and Nonnus besides those already in- 
 cluded in Mr. Elton's tasteful specimens. Mr. 
 Living British Dramatist requires a pinch of 
 snuff, 1 high dried, judging from his last; but a 
 parody on obscure inanity must be inane. The 
 original, as my friend g ***** sa ys, is suffi- 
 ciently satirical on itself. Entreat the lively 
 observant Edward Herbert to keep out of bad 
 company : the influences of Drury-lane green- 
 room had an awful effect on the conclusion of 
 his last, as he himself seemed aware. 2 Give us 
 some good serious poetry (if to be had anywhere : 
 why is the harp of Coleridge mute ?) and con- 
 trast it with some such smart bubbles of wit as 
 " Please to ring the belle." And now by what 
 obliquity does the ablest scholar 3 of the day 
 confine his attention entirely to the French Early 
 Poets. Is not the exquisite, the still uncompre- 
 hended, Petrarch worthy of his close yet classic 
 English ? Why not alternate a noble canzone of 
 
 1 Mr. Living Dramatist does not take snuff. 
 
 2 Janus has certainly done for himself in the good opinion 
 of Mr. Herbert, as he considers it the liveliest paper he 
 has ever written ; and has already quarrelled with two of 
 his best friends, who took the liberty to think otherwise. 
 
 3 We do not know how to apply this advice, for we 
 have several Ablest scholars. Pierre Ronsard is, however, 
 at the Pit Door of our Magazine, and is only prevented from 
 entering by seeing " Pit full."
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 243 
 
 Francesco with a sunny bird-like burst of music by 
 Alayn Chartier, or Pierre Eonsard ? And now I 
 am interrogative, let your German Linguist look 
 about him 1 and be industrious. Are the stores 
 of Goethe the all-grasping, and Wieland the witty, 
 and Franz-Horn, and Tieck, and De la Motte 
 Fouque, exhausted ? Are all these variously ex- 
 celling authors become so well known 'here in 
 England ? ' I should guess not, as the Jonathans 
 say. Or, again, my jolly Almain Eutter, have 
 you not Arndt, and Caroline de la Motte Fouque, 
 and Luise Brachman, very pleasant and fanciful 
 people ? Look to it, good master Wigginwaggin- 
 hausen ! Apropos, who is that fellow with the 
 Batavian, broad-bottom, tobacco-scented name 
 Wankin, Wynken, Stinking Brooms' 2 ' (as it has 
 been said that Elia called him one day), who takes 
 liberties with my appellation and style ? Some 
 broken picture-cleaner or hackney drawing-master, 
 I take it ; though I recollect some one whispering 
 that it was my Lord Stafford's dilettante porter. 
 Is that correct ? At all events, make a clear 
 Magazine of him ; for the Fine Arts of England 
 will never carry double ; by which phrase I in- 
 sinuate my intention of taking up all " that sort of 
 tiling? for the benefit of London, and without the 
 
 1 " Looking about," is not the way to be industrious.. 
 
 2 " Mercy on us ! We hope," as Mrs. Malaprop says, 
 " you are not like Cerberus, three gentlemen at once ! " 
 
 3 Mr. Janus seems disposed not only to take up " all that 
 sort of thing," but " everything in the world" 
 
 R2
 
 244 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 definite article. " The post is just going out," 1 
 (how lucky !) so Heaven bless you and yours. 
 
 JANUS WEATHEKCOCK. 
 
 P.S. Haven't room for my postscript after all. 
 Ready next month. Amazing thievery at Cos- 
 way's sale ! Heard all about it, I suppose ? one 
 lady stopped on the staircase with two thousand 
 pounds' worth of prints in her pocket ! " Ton my 
 life, it's true : what'll you lay it's a lie ? " Fond of 
 statues ? Go see Giovanni di Medicis, by Michel, 
 at Day's worth a day's journey ! A'nt that good ? 
 hey ? But ! gad ! I think you're all statues your- 
 selves, or the Mercandotti would have thawed you 
 into an article 2 in praise of her Titanianesque 
 (don't blunder it into Titianesque) foot. A pretty 
 
 sum the education of that girl has cost my Lord 
 
 
 1 See English, correspondence in general. 
 
 2 Let Janus go himself, and be thawed into an article, as 
 he has undertaken " all that sort of thing."
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 245 
 
 AGAINST WRITING AX ACCOUNT OF 
 "THE EXHIBITION." 
 
 A VERY INGENIOUS PAPER, WITH TWO 3IOTTOS WORTH ALL 
 THE REST BESIDE. 
 
 Thou art too full of figures ; that's a word of the Gascon 
 growth ; that's a dangerous phrase (I don't reject any that 
 are used in the common streets of France ; 'tis a mere jest 
 to think of opposing custom with grammar) ; that's an ig- 
 norant discourse ; a paradoxical sentence ; that there is too 
 silly ; you often make yourself merry ; it will be thought 
 you say a thing in good earnest, which you only speak in 
 jest. Montaigne. 
 
 Of all the several ways of beginning a book, which are 
 now in practice throughout the known world, I am confi- 
 dent my own way of doing it is the best. I am sure it is 
 the most religious, for I begin with writing the first sen- 
 tence, and trusting to Providence for the second. 
 
 Tristram Shandy. 
 
 THE Welsh bards were much smitten by Triads. 
 By my mother's side I inherit a pint or so of Cam- 
 brian lymph (very apt in hot weather to set my best 
 corks flying) ; therefore it is not difficult to account 
 for my immoderate exercise on these hobbies. 
 Lord Byron talks about his twofold perceptions of 
 things : I must say, that a more sufficing proof of 
 want of invention in his meditative powers could 
 not be adduced. As we mine deeper among the 
 
 [ l London Magazine, June, 1822.]
 
 246 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 harmonious entanglements of nature, so doth the 
 sacred Pythagorean number, the beautiful triangle, 
 give richer gleams through the opacity of our 
 corporeal incumbrances ; and in those mere retain- 
 ers on the flesh (the arts and sciences, in the 
 vulgar acceptation), the points of the ever-unalter- 
 ably-pyramidal emblem, the ethereal flammic sym- 
 bol, are presented to all reasonably sensitive 
 apprehensions, thick as " quills upon the fretful 
 porcupine." But how, most profound Janus ! is 
 this preface to your chapter of trinal analogies to 
 become pertinent to a critique on the Exhibition ? 
 Read a little farther, if you please, and it is ten to 
 one but you will feel as easy on that score as the 
 author at least. I am for this once quite assured 
 of an intention ; and, besides that, pretty clear of 
 a meaning, if I could but make it out : you'll 
 not be troubled with it this month, however. 
 
 According to my theory, the life of the mind 
 may be portioned out into three grand stages; 
 the first and the third of which offer externally 
 similar characteristics. The mind, in its simple, 
 pure and uninformed state, is quiescent and rely- 
 ing ; and the end of all its feverish aspirations 
 after knowledge is but to return it to its original 
 home, where the adoration of nature absorbs it 
 wholly. For the critical art, this process applies 
 very close : criticism being neither more nor less 
 than a genuine exposition of the impressions pro- 
 duced by a given subject on a tasteful mind, 
 scrupulously cleared from warps and prejudices. 
 To attain this object wholly I assume to be im-
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 247 
 
 possible ; owing to our perpetual and unavoidable 
 contact with our senses, which are the primal 
 causes of prejudice and error. It is a common 
 thing to hear the vulgar (the well-dressed I mean) 
 to hear the vulgar say, that " such an one has infi- 
 nite taste in poetry or painting without pretend- 
 ing to be a judge ! " This is nonsense. These 
 terms are synonymes in both arts. For if it be 
 true (which I take it cannot be denied) that taste 
 results from experience and deep thought, carried 
 on indeed, perhaps, almost unconsciously, wherein 
 does it vary from judgment ? I am now working- 
 round to the reason of my preludium. Allow me 
 to consider (ut probatuni) that real criticism re- 
 jects mechanical aid; then it follows that complete 
 confidence must be reposed in him who lays claim, 
 however modestly, to but a portion of the cathedra. 
 He must show his clearsightedness and aptitude 
 for penetrating the high mysteries, by talking 
 about the shapes and forms of things which 
 nobody else can see even with a patent lamp ; 
 and I am not aware that this object could be 
 attained better than by some such sentences as the 
 foregoing. Proof also will be looked for at his 
 hands, concerning his due preliminary considera- 
 tions on the nature of his art, and on this head 
 permit me to hope that this very sentence (if 
 nothing had gone before it) sufficiently guarantees 
 my qualifications. Lastly, as evidence of an 
 incipient reformation with regard to warps, he 
 must imitate me in disclaiming any pretensions 
 to a rigid impartiality, of the which whosoever
 
 248 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 trumpeteth is a knave or a dupe. The apposite- 
 ness of my introduction is nicely developed, or 
 else the Devil's in't; and now it has served my 
 purpose, you may give it by way of a pinch of 
 snuff to your friend there with the obtuse ap- 
 prehension. When he hath plucked out the heart 
 of my mystery, he shall find Aristotle's poetics 
 
 (without notes ! ! f) as easy as lying. Perhaps 
 
 all this is too terse "Dum brevis esse laboro, 
 obscurus fio." It's the best part of my article, for 
 all that (I use the present auxiliary, because,, 
 though the remainder is not as yet signified on the 
 paper, it is, and has been written "within the book 
 and volume of iny brain," to all intents and pur- 
 poses, from all eternity) It's the best part of my 
 article, I repeat, and if you read four pages more, 
 you'll not be the wiser, take a fool's word ! 
 
 Where is the wind to-day? "South-east."" 
 How in the plague's name came a prayer against 
 this most accursed of all winds to be omitted in 
 our Litany ? But there was no Somerset-house 
 Exhibition in those days, because there was no 
 Somerset-house. I dare say, you may discover 
 another reason or two, but I am quite comfortable 
 with this. 
 
 So ! we are arrived ! Pu g li I ! (I look on a 
 printerly-arranged exclamation of this kind as an 
 admirable succedaneum for a paragraph of witti- 
 cisms. It gives one a consequence beyond a con- 
 tributor : it is quite Editorial and very harmless 
 so Pu g h ! again.) What a smother ! how 
 the dust careers away yonder in the long sun-
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 249 
 
 beam! how rusty and rough are the castors of 
 males ! how disgusted ladies are with the dimmed 
 hue of their black-morocco slippers ! how their 
 curls uncurl their wanton tendrils : and how little 
 straggling parties, three or four hairs in each, " fret 
 on their temples, tickle in their napes !" How 
 light kid gloves are darkened by the action of 
 animal warmth ! How faces shine, and bandanas 
 whisk about over bald foreheads ! and how awk- 
 ward men stick their thumbs where they should 
 not, for lack of their sticks torn away by that 
 unfeeling caitiff, Tom Bromhead who, couched in 
 his green den at the very feet of Hercules, spares 
 neither age nor sex. 
 
 I cannot bring myself to put implicit faith in 
 that saying of Lord Bacon's, "that good men 
 crushed are sweeter for the crush," Heaven knows 
 
 that the crush here, to-day, is strong, and yet 
 
 I will not set down so many hundreds of my 
 fellow-creatures as bad, because they do not distil 
 into frankincense and spikenard. No ! Bacon for 
 once is mistaken ; 1 but for all that, new ventilators 
 would not be irrelevant to the great room so 
 pu gh ! the third time or what is still better, 
 because Shaksperian pah ! 
 
 Who did the Exhibition for the London Maga- 
 
 1 Janus is extremely fond of distorting notable passages 
 in notable authors, for the purpose of building some pre- 
 posterous conceits thereon. This is all mighty well with 
 dabblers Like Southey, Byron, and Scott ; but when he 
 meddles with Bacon he gets the wrong pig by the ear. In 
 fact, he had better turn Jew and evite him altogether.
 
 '250 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 zine last season ? " Corn. Van Vinkbooms." Did 
 he indeed ? Why then let him do it again, as 
 Vathek said to the Giaour. I'll none of it ! Why 
 should I get the ill-will of every exhibitor, both 
 those I commemorate and those I do not ? " Very 
 true, dear W but hem ! but why you see that 
 Cornelius has met with several little obstacles 
 which have hitherto prevented his attendance at 
 the Academy in short (I know I speak to a 
 friend), Van Vinkbooms now lies in Horsemonger 
 jail under sentence of death for a M. Antonio 
 robbery in the British Museum ! ! Bandinelli's 
 St. Lawrence avec les deiLx fourches was his bane. 
 Love of art swayed him, not lucre (for often hath 
 he offered a hundred pounds in vain), like the un- 
 hanged pilferer of Eembrandts ; yet how different 
 their fate ! " Extremely unpleasant indeed, and 
 turns up inconveniently both for him and me 
 mais helas ! he-bien (This fa^on de Paris is 
 very dry !) I must undertake it for you, I see ! 
 Look on it as done some way or other. 
 
 There are 1049 works, as they are termed, occu- 
 pying in their intitulation 49 pages 4to. To give 
 anything like an account of a quarter of these 
 would fill three of our magazines. Let us count 
 the notes of admiration in our catalogue 173 ! 
 too many by 100 ! How many double crosses ? 
 57 ! Still uncompassable ! Thus then we sweat 
 down the mass for our use. Portraiture attracts 
 patronage enough, God knows ; and that patronage 
 runs in a good course, as the goodly trees it waters 
 testify, Lawrence, Phillips, Owen, Jackson, Chalon,
 
 ESSAYS AXD CRITICISMS. 251 
 
 and Chantrey. Praise of mine would not gain 
 four minutes' more attention to the grandeur of 
 Turner, the chaste sobriety of Callcott, the amenity 
 and poetical repose of Collins, or the delicate 
 fidelity of William Daniel! What a work of 
 supererogation to sound the trumpet for Ward and 
 Cooper, the Snyders and Wouvermans of the day, 
 who have deservedly as much as they can do. 
 The futility of explanatory criticisms on the 
 familiar scenes appears in the designation, and 
 now what remains to me out of this immense 
 show ? The historical department, which, not- 
 withstanding a respectable growth since last year, 
 may be held between my finger and thumb like 
 this pinch of snuff. And, first, you are all much 
 attracted, I hope, by the veteran Northcote's ster- 
 ling composition, entitled, " The Princess Bridget 
 Plantagenet, fourth daughter of King Edward the 
 Fourth wJw, when very young, was consigned to the 
 care of the abbess of the monastery of Dartford, 
 where sJie afterwards became a nun, and there spend- 
 ing her life in devotion and contemplation, was 
 buried in that convent about the year 1517, eighth 
 of King Henry Eighth." The expressions in this 
 picture are amiable without weakness, and pathetic 
 without a shade of drivelling: the unconscious 
 heir of the child, the warm grief of the mother, 
 and the lofty yet kindly serenity of the white- 
 robed abbess, are discriminated with a depth and 
 precision which evidence equal feeling in the con- 
 ception and judgment in the execution. The tone 
 does not disgrace the invention, beaming with
 
 252 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 an even and sober light ; the carnations are clean, 
 fresh, and sanguine. Let us have a print of it 
 from the brilliant and faithful hand of Scriven,, 
 not forgetting its admirable companion last year. 
 As a pendant to this conventual incarceration 
 hangs The Burial of Christ by the same pencil ; a 
 worn-out hackneyed subject, on which the creative 
 genius of Michel Angelo would now fail to 
 elevate any structure which should arrest atten- 
 tion by novelty. That Mr. N. should have em- 
 ployed his time on it was probably the result of a 
 choice not his own. It is, however, well composed, 
 and possesses breadth, depth, and strong relief. 
 The taste of colour is from the severer depart- 
 ments of the Bolognese school, so eloquently re- 
 commended by Sir Joshua and Fuseli as the legi- 
 timate vehicle of the dignified, the pathetic, and 
 the awful. Between these two cool chastities is a 
 fiery luxuriance (Cupid and Psyche, 18) by the 
 now-in-oil-seldom-seen Westall, an artist who has 
 touched every species of composition, and seldom 
 failed to add some delicacy unknown before. If 
 the various-styled Stothard, our Baffaelle, has been 
 more successful in catching the evanescent graces 
 of every-day life, he must yield to his rival in 
 higher and more poetical inventions; Stothard 
 could not have painted Westall's " Three Witches," 
 nor Westall, Stothard's " French Priest's earnest 
 Colloquy with Eobinson Crusoe." Stothard, look- 
 ing to his humanities, is rather the intenser of the 
 twain ; Westall the more universal. I find great 
 difficulty as to precedence of merit between his
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 253 
 
 "Fisherman labouring out a "boat, on the wild 
 beach of billowy Hastings," his rich landscapes of 
 Solitude, and Eoslin Castle ; his tumultuous cattle 
 piece of Lions and Bulls; or his in-all-limbs- 
 beauteous Helen, falling like a warm sun-stream 
 on the senses of Priam and Troy's elders, who 
 bask like grasshoppers in her blighting loveliness. 
 I have heard his powers denied or degraded ; let 
 the above enumerations of achievements in so 
 many opposite branches strike these silly, unre- 
 flecting, and petty calumniators dumb. 1 That 
 WestalTs style is redolent with faults no one ever 
 affected to deny ; but they are the faults not of 
 incapacity, but of recklessness as to what he may 
 deem (perhaps erroneously) the un-essentialities 
 of his works. His excellencies, both in elegance 
 of posture, brilliancy of chiaroscuro, characteristic 
 touch, and vividness of colour, are eminently his 
 own. In the production before us, the new 
 method 2 of working with an admixture of water 
 colours, crayons, and oil-paints, has been strictly 
 
 1 Who possesses this gentleman's painting from the 
 Third Canto of the Lord of the Isles (Bruce, Allan, Ronald 
 and Edith, in the outlaw's cave) 1 wherein the choice and 
 seizure of the momentous nick of time reveals an intimacy 
 with the springs of sympathy worthy of the highest names. 
 The state of public knowledge of the arts in this matter- 
 of-fact country may be learnt from the miserable sight of 
 these abilities prostituted by dire necessity to ornamental 
 vignettes for Sharp's prose writers, and id genus omne ! 
 
 2 Supposed by Miss Cleaver, the very ingenious inven- 
 tress, to be the real and true process of Tiziano, Correggio, 
 the Bassans, Rembrandt, Cuyp, &c.
 
 254 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 followed ; but the effect (at least as well as I car* 
 judge at so great a distance) seems hardly com- 
 mensurate to the tediousness of the means. It is 
 whispered that Mr. W. himself puts little or no 
 faith in the notion of its being the " Venetian 
 Secret" though he esteems it to comprise several 
 desiderata, among which is surface. It is my very 
 humble opinion (who am not picture, but print- 
 learned} that it relishes a little of the Bassanos, 
 but I find not much of Giorgione, Titiano, Tin- 
 toretto, or Schiavone, the ablest colourists of that 
 gorgeous age. I cannot help fancying that the 
 usual distinctness of Mr. W.'s first conception 
 was, in this ever-delightful subject, something 
 dimmed by a too unvaried contemplation of 
 Design's gaudy-tyring maid. The novelty of his 
 means threw a temporary dazzle over his fancy ;. 
 and while complete admiration is given to the 
 beauty of the lorn Psyche, and the wantonly- 
 luxuriant accessaries, the inadequate personifica- 
 tion of the heavenly Breath of the World provokes 
 our spleen. It were also to be wished that the 
 splendid yet blind cubiculum of Apuleius had not 
 been exchanged for an open leafy tent, where the 
 tell-tale moonlight makes the lamp (the instru- 
 ment of the helpless one's future miseries) super- 
 fluous. These things would be trifling in the 
 ornamental style, which aims to please the eye, 
 reckless of propriety ; but Westall hitherto has held 
 a higher mood ! and, indeed, in this same " bril- 
 liance pictorial," he perchance but disports by way 
 of unbending his inventive and reflective faculties..
 
 ASSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 255 
 
 This gentleman has in his possession a singular 
 and exquisite cabinet picture of Baffaello caressing 
 Ids beloved Fornarina, which internal proofs most 
 forcibly affix to the hand of the great Koman him- 
 self. (A faithful engraving from it would confer 
 large fame and popularity on the courageous artist 
 who should undertake it). A delicate Schiavone, 
 various as a tulip-bed with rich broken tints ; and: 
 a glowing portrait, remarkable for morbidezza, by 
 the scarce Morone, also make costly the walls of 
 Mr. Westall's drawing-room. In the exhibition of 
 these gems to real amateurs his kindness is un- 
 wearied. 
 
 I must now abate my eyes to the sleeping 
 Bacchante (21) of Stothard, which is placed im- 
 mediately under No. 18. But first, after so much 
 dry nibbling criticism, let us take a mouthful of 
 very come-inable pretty verses by way of running 
 illustration to the picture we have quitted. 
 Shakerly Marmion, the play- writer, is their author. 
 If you like them buy the book ! (Legend of 
 Cupid and Psyche, edited by Mr. Singer, 1820) if 
 not let it alone I 
 
 Then, in one hand she held the tremulous light, 
 
 And in the other took the sword, so bright 
 
 As 'twould her beauty and the fire outshine ; 
 
 And she thus arm'd, became more masculine. 
 
 But when, by friendship of the lamp, her eye 
 
 Had made a perfect true discovery 
 
 Of all was in the room, what did she see ? 
 
 Object of love, wonder of deity ! 
 
 The God of Love himself, Cxipid the fair, 
 
 Lie sweetly sleeping in his golden hair.
 
 256 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 At this so heavenly sight, the lampy spire 
 
 Increased his flames, and burnt more pure, and higher. 
 
 * ***** 
 
 * * Poor Psyche, all amazed, 
 With joy and wonder on his beauty gazed. 
 His neck so white, his colour so exact, 
 His limbs, that were so curiously compact ; 
 His body sleek, and smooth. 
 
 ****** 
 A bright reflection and perfumed scent 
 Fill'd all the room with a mix'cl blandishment, 
 Shot from his wings ; and at his feet did lie 
 His bow, and arrows, and his armoury. 
 
 * * * when lo, 
 
 Whether from envy, or from treachery, 
 Or that it had a burning appetite 
 To touch the silken skin that look'd so white, 
 The wicked lamp, in an unlucky hour, 
 A drop of scalding oil did let down pour 
 On his right shoulder. 
 
 Have you looked at this young lady, "who wears 
 forth the odorous moisture of the flowers," with 
 the warmth of her dainty body, bathed in the un- 
 seen dews of sleep ? I say again, have you looked 
 at her well? "Ah, truly I have." Well, Sir! 
 and what do you see ? "I see a very handsome 
 girl, with golden tresses, fast asleep with her pretty 
 mouth open, and upwards ; and I see a little 
 impudent Cupid who seems extremely aware that 
 her slumber is somewhat extraneous, and as it were 
 rather induced by excess of stimulants, than excess 
 of exhaustion, which to be sure is plainly enougli 
 implied in the decomposed straggle of her plump
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 257 
 
 limbs ; and I see a romantic white-haired goat 
 with leering eye and upreached quivering mouth, 
 cropping the sweet shoots of the lush vine under 
 the which these three lie buried!" Extremely 
 
 right, Mr. A A What d'ye call him! But 
 
 is this all? "All save a pair of small brass 
 
 Bacchic cymbals." L d have mercy on us! 
 
 what a blind world is this, my masters. Why, 
 thou featherless owl ! thou short-nailed mole ! des- 
 cryest thou not clearly that, this tablet having been 
 originally painted some time agone, the varnish, or 
 the macgilp, or the something, has cracked the Miss's 
 skin like a dropsy, and that to hide these ravages, 
 SCUMBLING has been used ! ! Dost hear ? SCUMB- 
 LING ! ! " May be so ; and what of that ? " 
 
 Stop a moment, will you, my dear reader ? I 
 cannot get that interrogative down yet. I must 
 drink this glass of Sherry exactly at three swallows, 
 and take precisely How precision is disregarded 
 now to be sure ! in drawing, in acting, in making 
 up prescriptions, in taking them, in the position of 
 dragoons' feet in the stirrups, in the make of 
 breeches, in grammar, in pronunciation, in choice 
 of words, in in short I don't know why I should 
 begin my excellent work On Precision just here ! 
 so I put my finger and thumb into the box over 
 which it has hovered for the last twenty-three 
 seconds, and take precisely two seven-eighths 
 pinches of Paris. I think I feel a little better 
 now! nevertheless I do pronounce that phrase 
 " what of that " to be the most vulgar, the most 
 impertinent, unfeeling, malevolent, stupid, churlish, 
 s
 
 258 ESSAYS AND CK1TICISM3. 
 
 discomfiting, unanswerable query that Apollyon 
 ever thrust in a man's head. It is as bad as a pail 
 of water thrown over you, or a smack in the face ! 
 And to meet with all this, in reward for as fine 
 a piece of connoisseurship as you shall light upon 
 between Vasari and Vinkbooms ! fie on't, it's an 
 ungrateful world ! But for all that I will have my 
 say, and I say that Stothard's picture is a good 
 picture, and a loveable picture go to ! and a well- 
 drawn, and an expressive picture, and as good as 
 a Poussin, and a great deal better altogether than 
 you or I should make if we were to live, according 
 to the Chinese wish, 1000 years, painting away all 
 the time : and if you come to that so in his other 
 little composition yonder (178. Jacob telling his 
 dream to his father) a design which looks as if it 
 ought to be in Raffaello's Bible ! " No matter ! " 
 said Mr. Hobson. 
 
 But come, my charming young ladies who "doat 
 on Lord Byron," here is a picture painted on pur- 
 pose for ye : Manfred and the Witch of the Alps 
 (108). A very chaste and carefully finished compo- 
 sition ; of course more in the gusto of Rome than 
 of Venice, though the tints are clear, and bear more 
 transparence than is usual with Mr. Howard. The 
 fountain spirit has great beauty of shape and 
 features the attitude of the guilty misanthrope is 
 natural and characteristic, and the Alpine scenery, 
 rocks and wild-flowers, the torrent and its spray- 
 begotten Iris, make up a vehicle for the actors 
 extremely picturesque, rich and inviting. With 
 regard to his Ariel released by Prospero (72), I
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 259 
 
 confess I was somewhat disappointed. The magic 
 duke is here depicted as compelling two earthly 
 spirits to do his bidding : I concede that their 
 difficultly fore-shortened dusky bodies are drawn 
 with science and feeling ; they rive the pine force- 
 fully ; but now I must doubt whether a greater 
 impression of power would not have been conveyed 
 by causing the earth-bound tree to gape and yield 
 up its airy kernel under the thrilling impulse of 
 his mighty and intense willing : the awful eye 
 bent in fascinating immoveability, and the mystic 
 rod raised, as if to pour forth its sympathetic 
 potency, would indicate this plainly enough to the 
 spectator, as several inventions of Michael Angelo 
 can testify and certainly the great secret of 
 strength, both in writing and design, is condensa- 
 tion to employ just exactly so many figures and 
 words as will do your business, and no more. 1 The 
 above objection, or rather suggestion, is merely 
 my notion of the scene, instead of Mr. Howard's ; 
 whose method of relating with eloquent dumb 
 show the harassing lets and annoyances inflicted 
 on Caliban (76) cannot to my feeling be easily 
 surpassed in vividness and intelligibility. I wish 
 the tasteful secretary would look into Mr. Soane's 
 translation of Undine ; he would find much to his 
 mind, which might in turn i create much to mir 
 mind. Perhaps one of his friends may see this, 
 and tell him of my hint. Don't you wish you were 
 rich enough to purchase that Devonshire landscape, 
 
 1 It is a pity Janus's preaching and practice do not agree. 
 
 s2
 
 260 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 by Collins? (Buckland in the Moor, 89.) / do 
 with all my heart, and with all my soul, on which 
 it would act like balm. And I wish I had Turner's 
 exquisite little gaiety, (What you Will, 114.) And 
 I wish I had Cooper's Battle of Strigonium, (120.) 
 And T wish Mr. Etty had made a large fortune, 
 and gave away his delicately and masterly executed 
 gems to poor but ardent amateurs. Alas ! alas I 
 Why is the will to encourage genuine merit so 
 seldom accompanied by the means ? When I look 
 at this gentle group (Maternal Affection, 121), so 
 correctly drawn, so splendidly coloured, and so 
 lightly touched, I long I languish "I cannot 
 withdraw, but turn back at every step. I sigh, 
 and in sighing exclaim, unfortunate being that I 
 am ! it is thus that all-powerful Painting keeps 
 me under her dominion then, gaining strength, I 
 proceed, reflecting on the treasure I have quitted." 
 Mr. Etty has as yet given us little or no specimens 
 of his powers in sterner stuff but why should he ? 
 His manner is peculiarly his own, and will always 
 enamour by its tender selection of attitudes and 
 expressions, and the genial warmth of its hues. 
 Perhaps a greater force of legitimate chiaroscuro 
 would add variety to his style, his effects at present 
 depending nearly, if not entirely, on the opposition 
 of colours. I cannot take leave of this most 
 meritorious artist without expressing my sincere 
 admiration of the amorous and yet modest languor 
 infused into the bright eyes and fair lids, droop- 
 ing with thick lashes, of his females, The ' St. 
 Catherine,' and ' PsycJie,' in the last Exhibition at
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 261 
 
 the British Gallery, owed to this beautiful trait 
 more than half their attraction. 
 
 Let us now sit down and feast our eyes on 
 Hilton's gallery picture (Mcleager, Atalanta, and 
 the Boar of Diana, 128.) How finely coloured, 
 how very rich, exuberant, and juicy how well 
 made up how painterly! This last tack has 
 brought him nearer to the gorgeous port of Venice 
 than any before. How glowing without foxey- 
 ness : how brown and mellow, yet pure and clean ! 
 How much nature and suppleness in the drawing, 
 without vulgarity! and how much correctness 
 without rigidity ! How cleverly brought together, 
 and how effectual are the cold steel and the per- 
 spiring flesh ! What a fierce pencil in the animals 
 and the Tizianesque trees ! how pulpy and deli- 
 cate in the carnations ! how artfully easy are the 
 grouping and the arrangements of the parts ; and 
 what an air of unity the whole possesses ! This 
 in my opinion is Mr. Hilton's congenial style ; the 
 style of Vecelli the picturesque, in its proper and 
 highest sense ; and it is a million of pities he 
 should ever wander in a vain search after the 
 antagonistic and essentially inimical graces of 
 Parma and Eome ; the result of such unchemical 
 alliance has been, and ever will be, neutralization. 
 From those who do not comprehend the reason of 
 his style, Mr. H. must expect to hear many ob- 
 jections, mighty sound in themselves, but traves- 
 tied into absolute nonsense by their inapplicability 
 to the point in question. I hold that no work of 
 .ability can be tried otherwise than by laws 
 deduced from itself ; whether or not it be consis-
 
 262 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 tent with itself. If this theory be true, the onus 
 laid on the conscientious critic is almost equal to 
 the author's. In our good England, however, this 
 burthen would seem but featherweight, judging 
 from the spanking pace at which our periodical 
 scalpers get over the ground : perhaps consciences 
 are too high in price for their pockets. 1 
 
 But I don't like to be hurried along in this- 
 way ; I have seen pictures enough for to-day, and 
 I won't have them put out of my head ! " Sweet 
 Janus, but three more ! " Well, Sir, which be 
 they ? " Why, first here is Chalon's Precieuses- 
 ridicules, (162) one of the very best things he ever 
 enchanted the fashionable world with. Can art 
 and taste go beyond his triumph over the most 
 preposterous costume that ever caricatured hu- 
 man habiliments ? How pungent, how efferves- 
 cent is the countenance of the rose-coloured 
 Beauty ! I mean the beauty dressed in crackling 
 satin couleur de rose. How fierce are those shoe- 
 ties, how awful that wig ! Would anyone believe 
 that Mr. Chalon was not born and bred in 
 the Court of Louis Quatorze, instead of being at 
 this present time alive, and in great request with 
 the ladies, at No. 11, Great Marlborough-street, 
 London? Tell me, Mr. Weathercock, if you would 
 not give some of your scarcest Bonasones to be 
 able to put that that bottle of Champagne for 
 the eyes into your Boudoir ? " Why, it is not 
 easy for me to answer that question, because 
 
 1 Paley once said "that lie could not afford to keep 
 a conscience ! ! ! " This declaration was honest at any rate !.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 263 
 
 Bonasones I have none, (they are all sold, poor 
 dears ! to pay for themselves) and as to Boudoir, 
 I cannot persuade Vinkbooms to deliver it up I 
 suppose he has it I can't recollect that ever I 
 had ! But, in sober truth, I must decline farther 
 use of my article eye. It would appear an insult 
 to notice Mr. Thompson's striking and poetical 
 work of Prospcro and Miranda (172) in a slight 
 and incomplete manner : and the same may be 
 said of the excellent Lear of Briggs (198) who is 
 this year placed where he should be, viz., in the 
 great room. Mr. H. P. Bone has an historical 
 subject, in the School of Painting (The Death of 
 Priam, 273) embodied with considerable force of 
 tone and expression. It is very much in the 
 feeling of the princes of the French school, 
 Poussin and Le Sueur, with a little dash of West 
 finished very honestly; and I hope, for the 
 credit of London, will meet with a purchaser. 
 
 The Venus and Adonis by his brother seems, 
 as well as my dim eyes will inform me, to be 
 placed aloft in a very unworthy situation. Both 
 of these gentlemen work very perceptibly onwards. 
 I must now bid you adieu, my kind companions ; 
 but let me entreat you first to admire again and 
 again Jackson's very characteristic, and therefore 
 . bewitching, portrait of our Stephens it is drawn 
 con amore, and is by far the best of this brilliant 
 artist's female heads. 
 
 Among the marbles, Flaxman, Westmacott and 
 Baily maintain their accustomed dignity, and keep 
 alive with their strenuous breath the populace- 
 nesrlected embers of historic art. Westmacott's
 
 264 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Psyche is affectingly simple a pure bashful rely- 
 ing creature, who could live "but in the breath of 
 the heavenly Love. The War Angel of the ele- 
 gant-minded Flaxman is extremely noble no man 
 understands the action and powers of the skeleton 
 better than Mr. F. ; which knowledge is the 
 primum mobile of grace and motion. I wonder he 
 does not favour the public with some more of his 
 harmonious outlines. The romantic Apollonius 
 would furnish an interesting series, which might 
 be lithographized by some of his pupils. 
 
 J. W. 
 
 PS. Give my respects to your Mr. Fine Arts, 1 
 and request him to write a panegyric on Wilkie's 
 cJief-d'ceuvre (for so it certainly is, both in con- 
 ception, composition, colour, drawing, grace, and 
 expression; this is, indeed, fetching up lee-way 
 with a wet sail,) with one of his most superb quills. 
 Tell him also I shall look sharp after his critique 
 on Mulready's Convalescent ; it is a touchstone of 
 sympathy and feeling. Mackenzie should write 
 it, or Allan Cunningham ! I desire that Mynheer 
 Van Stinking Brooms will keep his herring-defiled 
 paws from it. I hate that fellow most particularly. 
 Fumigate him out of the concern ! 2 
 
 PHazlitt] 
 
 * Our friend Mr. Weathercock has omitted to notice Mr. 
 Leslie's " Rivals." With some defects of execution, nothing 
 can be more expressive than this admirable little picture ; 
 if his former productions were more attractive from their 
 connexion with our national habits and associations, this is 
 equally meritorious in genuine unforced humour. Nothing 
 can excel the spirited and graceful way in which the story 
 is told. ED.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 265 
 
 THE DELICATE INTRICACIES 1 . 
 
 What time the grey fly winds her sultry horn. Milton. 
 
 He had such a skirmishing, cutting kind of a slashing 
 way with him in his disputations, thrusting and ripping, 
 and giving every one a stroke to remember him by in his 
 turn, that if there were twenty people in company, in 
 less than half an hour he was sure to have every one of 
 them against him. Sterne. 
 
 AND now the outlines of the chimneys and 
 house-tops began to cut ever more sharply and 
 sharply against the ^ethereal background, and 
 the eastern gate of heaven, "soon, soon to glow 
 with a bloody blush," reflected a heart-cooling, 
 moony radiance from its marble valves, when 
 Nina L., unable to sleep, from the united pon- 
 derosity of her heart and the atmosphere, and 
 tired with contemplating the bronzed Hymens, 
 whose hands supported the . luxuriant draperies of 
 her virgin bed, raised up her fragrant head from 
 the lace-trimmed pillows of down. Without wait- 
 ing to descend the steps in a regular and moral 
 manner, she threw herself out on the thick leopard 
 skin ; and hastily induing her pearl-coloured slip- 
 pers, and wreathing her round arms and sweeping 
 shoulders in a cashmere, the white-ankled one 
 moved timidly (though alone) over the painted- 
 velvet carpet towards the aristocratical semicircle 
 of emblazoned windows which formed the southern 
 
 [ a London Magazine, July, 1822.]
 
 266 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 end of her voluptuous salon d coucJier. Her flex- 
 ible fingers turned the pliant locks of the centre 
 one, and regardless of appearances (i. e. passengers) 
 she leant out of her balcony like the Venetian 
 donzellas in Paolo Veronese, or (to reduce my 
 comparison to the level of your comprehension, 
 Mr. Siinkins !) like Miss O'Neil in Juliet ; though, 
 on second thoughts, I believe I shall cross out this 
 last touch, because she leant like no creature 
 I ever saw ; except herself. Stop a bit ! Has 
 Parmegiano ever painted the kind of subject I 
 N" n n no ! I am afraid not ! Why then, Sir, 
 
 he ought to be treated exactly as your baulked 
 
 curiosity dictates : for depend upon it you have 
 no chance of coming within nine hundred and 
 seventy-three degrees of her longi altitude I 
 mean ! But we'll proceed with this tale a little, 
 or else Mna will certainly catch cold by standing 
 so long in the vapoury dews of morn. 
 
 The gas was now waning fast; so were the 
 patrole and watchmen. With creaks, rumbles, 
 gee-whut's, and the smell of matting, cabbages, &c. r 
 market carts slowly progressed to THE G-ARDEN 
 from the delightful villages of Isleworth, Twicken- 
 ham, and Turnham-green. Several noticeable men 
 with black silk stockings were returning from 
 a high court-plenary of literature and French 
 wines, one might see at a glance that they were 
 famous in puns, poetry, philosophy, and exalted 
 criticism ! Briefly, they were the wits of London ! 
 One of them "soaring aloft in the high region of 
 his fancies, with his garlands and singing robes
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 267 
 
 about him," chaunted in the ringing emptiness of 
 the streets " Diddle, diddle, dumpkins." Nina no 
 doubt shrank within her shadowy bower (if you 
 can call a room nine-and-twenty feet long a bower) 
 from the hazy vision of these vigilants; for 
 though successive and inimical images might 
 disturb the unity and completeness of her idea 
 (which complex accumulation of images, trouble- 
 some to be disentangled, put in place, and labelled, 
 is usually, and absurdly termed the act of forget- 
 fulness ; because the said forgetfulness proceeds 
 not from action but its mathematical reverse, all 
 which is extremely irrelevant in hoc loco) yet the 
 peculiar build of the house, its striking portico, 
 and the lofty stained-glass window might stick 
 more barbed in their brain. The owner's name 
 might easily be found in the Court Guide, and 
 then the public be extremely refreshed with the 
 incident of Nina L. displaying her pretty self 
 h alf -naked ! (the good-nature of the ladies and 
 the what's the word of the men will take this 
 trifling addition for granted) at three o'clock a.m. 
 in the green, green month of June. " But such 
 a thing is not to be thought of, Sir ! therefore in 
 she goes ! " " You're quite out, my sweet Miss I 
 Nina never stirred." " 0, fie ! Sir I'll not read 
 a word more of your naughty book." Nay! do but 
 listen! Because because she neither saw nor 
 heard anything of them (i. e. the cabbages and 
 the wits !). " La ! Janus." Indeed it was almost 
 impossible that she should either view or be 
 viewed; for her room was, as the politer circles
 
 268 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 say, backwards ; nor was it much easier for her to 
 hear their Lysean hymns, for I can make oath they 
 never strayed within twenty streets of her situa- 
 tion! I hope, madam, I have exculpated my 
 heroine from any charge of indelicacy. " Yes, Sir ! 
 hut how came you to trouble us and your story 
 with this impertinent episode ? " That you should 
 ask me why, and I, in return, make my intent 
 lucid. 
 
 Those niceties and particularities of narration 
 which are to he found in myself and all other 
 authors of value and credibility, are the tests, the 
 witnesses, the vouchers, for the authenticity of the 
 tale for every tale is or ought to be (after 
 a fashion) historically true (look into the Schle- 
 gels, will ye ? ) : you feel assured that the relater 
 has actually been present at the scenes he places be- 
 fore you. It is first-hand, /ire, new ! To illustrate- 
 in recounting the manner of X.'s detention of Z. 
 during a prosy argument, I write, "and with 
 such speeches he (X.) dexterously seized with his 
 sinister hand a button of Z.'s doublet it was the 
 fifth button counting from the bottom." Now, 
 does not this subtle circumstantiality put the fact 
 that such conference took place beyond doubt; 
 for why should X. grapple Z.'s button, save to 
 prevent Z. from escaping ? and assuming that Z. 
 attempted to leave a given spot and person, it 
 follows tolerably logically, that Z. must have leen 
 on the spot, and v;itJi the person he essayed to 
 quit. Is not this very clever reasoning ? And if 
 the ingenious gentleman who has been twice
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 269 
 
 didactic on the Elgin Marbles 1 would have the 
 kindness to consider the force of my conclusions 
 as enfeebled by the rottenness of my premises (not 
 my tenements and hereditaments), I assure him 
 on the word and honour of a gentleman, for so the 
 late king's most excellent majesty was graciously 
 pleased to designate your most humble servant in 
 a certain commission (not of the peace) bearing his 
 
 own sign manual 1 really believe I have it 
 
 now in my pocket. I'll read it, if it will gratify 
 you at all no ! I haven't I'm afraid it's up-stairs 
 never mind 
 
 I say that, on the honour of a gentleman, I will 
 do as much for every tittle he has advanced in the 
 forementioned two excellent articles I can't offer 
 fairer, can I ? And now having made a capital 
 defence of my precise, and correct, and ingenious, 
 style, I shall be for the future ingenious, correct, 
 and precise, as hard as ever I can. 
 
 You've made yourself extremely agreeable, most 
 silent reader, all this time ; and, as a reward, you 
 and I will go and gaze on Nina and all her doings 
 in propriis personis, and then either keep dumb- 
 ness thereon, or whisper a little in the ears of 
 some of our lieartest (a word desiderated, L d 
 knows how long !) of our keartest friends, just as 
 decorum and sense of delicacy, and all that sort 
 of thing, shall indicate. See here we are in 
 Grosvenor Square! "And is the house here, 
 Janus ? " No, Sir ! but it is not a great way off, 
 
 [ 1 Hazlitt's paper on that subject in the Encyclopaedia 
 Britannica.]
 
 270 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Tins turn, if you please: now, we are arrived! 
 I have the key of this wall-door pooh -postern 
 I mean and here we "Here! Mercy on us 
 
 why here lives Lord ." Hush ! for your life ! 
 
 Step in quickly Stand close behind this bouncing 
 laurel on the left, till I've relocked There! 
 What a refreshing spot of summer greenery in the 
 centre of barren brick and Portland stone ! The 
 lovely cool of its shade (frigus amdbile) pours 
 around the revel-fevered nerves, 
 
 As glass-bright showers 
 On the fainting flowers. 
 
 The sweet clew, which maketh the grass all grey, 
 is not yet licked up by the fourth hour's 
 thirsty sun ; and the high swaying trees and the 
 bushy shrubs seem covered with a light azure 
 bloom. One little bird is awaking peep peep 
 at intervals. Hark ! another ! a thrush ! with 
 liow deep a thrill, like the startling trumpet of 
 a knightly challenger, doth he shake forth his 
 vigorous notes ! What delicious odours fume from 
 that thicket of roses and sweet-briar ! Now the 
 yet drowsy breeze varies, and is drowned in the 
 lively perfume of lavender ; it subsides, and the 
 steam of dabbled carnations rises conqueringly 
 over the screen of lilacs. And now that the sky 
 is blanching fast with the reflection of Aurora's 
 white robe, and Dian's chaste crescent narrows 
 in the clear dawn, you may descry (a much 
 more poetical expression than bald see) the rich 
 hollyhocks, the endless-hued tall tulips, and the 
 sceptrous wand of fairy Oberon, the lily
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 271 
 
 lifting up 
 
 As a Msenad, its moonlight-coloured cup 
 
 Till the fiery star, which is its eye, 
 
 Looks through clear dew on the tender sky. 
 
 Shelley. 
 
 But we have no more time to lose, so let us creep 
 -carefully down the bank ; here is a sinuous path 
 of moss and lawny grass leading quite through the 
 garden to the mansion, between very high hedges 
 of privet, honeysuckle, laurel, box, and holly. 
 Quietly, quietly ! stoop low as we cross this brief 
 opening well stole and lightly ! we have un- 
 ravelled the verdant tangle, and from behind the 
 thick leafy wall which flanks the terraced approach 
 (those are its marble steps, gleaming white be- 
 tween the boughs of the dark cedars) we may gaze 
 unseen on the planet of our guest. Lo ! there she 
 stands! hanging from her loftiness to catch the 
 incense which the enamoured flowers offer to her 
 benign divinity in their gratitude; for grateful 
 they must be to her whose presence was their life ! 
 and, with the tremulously-sensitive and poetical 
 Shelley, 
 
 I doubt not the flowers of that garden sweet, 
 Rejoic'd in the sound of her gentle feet ; 
 I doubt not they felt the spirit that came 
 From her glowing fingers thro' all their frame. 
 For she sprinkled bright water from the stream, 
 On those that were faint with the sunny beam ; 
 And out of the cups of the heavy flowers, 
 She emptied the rain of the thunder showers. 
 
 She lifted their heads with her tender hands, 
 And sustain'd them with rods and ozier bands ;
 
 272 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 If the flowers had been her own infant, she 
 Could never have nurs'd them more tenderly. 1 
 
 She turns her harmonious face this way take 
 your opera glass quick! It is in your right 
 pocket : I saw you put it there three hours agone r 
 when the dark veil of baize cut from your devout 
 eyesight the triumphant legs of Noblet, and the 
 petit pied of the Circean Spaniard All ! ma mig- 
 
 nonne, Mercandotti! Now, did you ever? 
 
 What long, soft shadowy lashes! Oh beautiful 
 eyes! so gentle, yet so brilliant blessed be the 
 garden where first I saw your dark blue! Sap- 
 phires centered with diamond sparks ! My little 
 friend Emily S * * * * * has the twin pair. 
 
 The sun, which colours all things, is still linger- 
 ing on the plains of Persia ; and her cheek appears 
 pale yet not pale, but only marbly pure. By 
 day a rich glow of gold is spread like a glory over 
 those wavy streams of hair which, released from 
 their jewelled bands and aureate comb, pour down 
 her sloping shoulders and back, like a dark, deep 
 waterfall among white hills. One massy lock has 
 fallen forwards by the side of her swan-like neck, 
 
 And crossing her round, elastic waist, 
 Hangs down past her round, light knee. 
 
 1 The Sensitive Plant. (8vo, Olliers.) A poem inspired 
 with the essence, moulded with the breath of love ; not the 
 Cupid of the licentious Romans, but the heavenly Eros of 
 Plato. Don't imagine, because I endeavour to do bare 
 justice to the high merits of Mr. Shelley's poetry, that I 
 admire his visionary and chaotic philosophy (as it is mis- 
 named.) Though even on that point I am convinced he 
 has been grossly slandered.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 273 
 
 My good curious people who stand outside the 
 garden-gate and wish you could get in tell me if 
 you have ever studied the Parma Correggios ? 
 Ah! miserable, who never truly lived, 1 your 
 countenances are negative! Where do you ex- 
 pect to go ? Hey ? Home ! directly, gentlemen 
 swine ! 2 for never shall you see with that inward 
 eye 
 
 Which is the bliss of solitude, 
 
 the amorous gentility, the intense elegance of those 
 gracile wrists and hands, tingling with sensibility 
 to the rosy-finger tops. ' Heed them not, good 
 Janus ! 
 
 In dark oblivion let them dwell. 
 
 She only is worthy to be heeded that sJie who, 
 shrined in a living frame of all odorous exotics 
 and choicer native plants, seems scarcely like a 
 being of this world ! The interior of the room 
 behind her is yet gilt with the flame of her alabaster 
 lamp, on such a golden ground does the holy 
 Madonna repose in the saintly paintings of those 
 old Italians, Giotto, Cimabue, " or, later still, Pierre 
 Perugine or Francia." But what sound is that ? ' 
 
 1 Mungo said that the only gentleman in White-land was 
 the Hog ! " He no workee ; he eat, he drink, he sleep, he 
 walk about, he lib like a gentleman ! " 
 
 2 See remarks on this numerous class in the second 
 canto of the Inferno. " But I am guiltless of Italian ! " 
 I know it. But the noble Ghibelline recites his verses in 
 eloquent and classic English undefiled, through the lips of 
 his most favoured pupil the Rev. H. F. Gary. 
 
 T
 
 274 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 It is nought but the dashing of the jet d'eau, 
 which the wind wafts this way ! ' Nay, nay, but 
 Nina turns her bright ivory neck into the warm 
 gloom of her splendid chamber again ! there ! ' 
 And in truth an echoing twang as from a full harp- 
 chord at this moment seemed to ride with a swoop 
 from the open-glass doors a whistling breeze ran 
 round the projections of the building, and floated in 
 rapid folds over the airy but ample robe of the noble 
 maiden white dimpled feet ! round ankles 
 one moment and the cold balcony is vacant. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 ' Did she throw herself over, Mr. Janus ? ' 
 Excuse me, madam, but I am not accustomed to 
 be interrupted with foolish questions, when I take 
 on me to relate one of the most interesting adven- 
 tures that ever was adventured in all London! 
 Another word and I am dumb for ever. ' Oh dear, 
 good, nice Janus, pray forgive me this time : it was 
 quite a slip !' Exactly so ; but allow me to suggest 
 to your discretion that when a young damsel of 
 eighteen makes a slip, it is the Dulwich Watteau to 
 jyj r ###*> s #### (that is the w r ay we painters 
 and poets, and stock-jobbers are wont to bet, with 
 goods which never were and never will be the pro- 
 perty of said betters) but she scratches off the skin 
 of her poor (reputation's the word, isn't it ?), of her 
 poor reputation in such an incurable manner as to 
 keep her tender and raw in that part to the end of 
 her days. Now be a good girl, and sit down. 
 
 When Nina entered the room she fancied for
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 275 
 
 one indivisible dot of time that it was pervaded 
 with the light which occasionally envelops the 
 Paradises of sleep. Her heart felt a sharply pleasing 
 thrill like an electric stroke. Nonsense ! the lamp 
 but flared up with the whirl-blast, and her harp (it 
 stood near the window) vibrated under its rude 
 onset. All is the same as when she left it her 
 door is fast her favourite Leonardo hangs just 
 where it did How silly to have felt fluttered ! 
 She gazed on the wily eyes of Gioconda, she knew 
 not why. The light of the lamp mingled strangely 
 with the light of dawn : the eyes looked at her 
 altogether quite painfully, and the corners of the 
 mouth curled slightly upwards. It seemed to Nina 
 .as if the domed ceiling panted forth a nightmare 
 weight ; and her breath seemed to heave in sym- 
 pathetic pants ! All reminiscences of her former 
 -corporeal life were blotted out ; and the present 
 mystic condition swallowed all faculties. The 
 colours of the portrait bloomed into a fresher 
 vividness, and a splendid iris concealed the features 
 for the space of an eye-wink. Could it be that the 
 imaged lips were indued with the power of evoking 
 like phantoms ? For, lo ! they move ; and the eyes, 
 -closing up narrower and narrower, leer amorously 
 at a masculine head which appeared over her 
 shoulder ! How, and when it came there, Nina 
 was unconscious; yet her specular orbs had 
 remained fastened to the picture. The apparition 
 was of a man about thirty, 1 the hair black, and 
 parted on the forehead, was long, thick, and curled ; 
 
 f 1 Janus himself, videlicet."] 
 T2
 
 276 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 one large white hand decorated with regal rings 
 encircled the waist of Gioconda ; the other pointed 
 at the beautiful human creature before it. It was 
 the very countenance the ideal of all the spiritual 
 Mna's deep aspirations: a countenance not of 
 feature, but of mind ; and yet the features were 
 noble and love-instilling. A harp-twang rung 
 grandly as if from cavernous depths afar off the 
 walls slid around her in long gliding curves, and 
 her limbs seemed to float in a glass-smooth cradle 
 of green sweeping waves her languid lids were 
 
 drooping with a holy peace; and she saw 
 
 " What, for heaven's sake ? " That, Miss ! you 
 
 shall never know. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Here's a pretty business ! to have got into the 
 
 marrow of a story that would have Mercy 
 
 upon me ! what a system of philosophy and 
 psychology should have been disclosed in it ! It 
 would have brought to light the riddle which has 
 driven the world crazy so long, namely, the 
 doctrine of Jupiter Ammon ! that all the 
 bursting hopes of the public should be blasted by 
 the folly of a bread-and-butter-faced chit, that 
 
 ought to have By the side of it, the Eomances 
 
 of Fouque" should have been Fables for the Nursery; 
 the Categories of Kant, Mrs. Lovechild's Primer; 
 and the Analogies of Novalis, Dilwortk's Spelling- 
 book. But, alas ! I swore that a second interruption
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 277 
 
 my oath is sacred and there is nothing for it, 
 but that the world must go on just as it has done 
 for these How many thousand years ago was this 
 earth created, my little boy ? I learnt these things 
 so long ago (if I ever learnt them at all). Ah, 
 exactly so ! nine thousand seven hundred and 
 sixty-three years! quite correct! a very forward 
 child indeed there's a penny for you to buy some 
 twopenny tarts with ! and take care not to eat too 
 many at once, there's a man ! 
 
 And now this article, or work, or paper, is to be 
 commenced a second time ! I declare I feel as if 
 I was set backwards two hours of my life. You 
 shall have my sensations on the business in a parable. 
 Being dressed an hour sooner than usual one 
 morning, for the purpose of obtaining an interview 
 with an early great man, I discover from a finishing 
 look in the parlour glass that my clean shirt and 
 neckcloth are starred and flowered with chin-blood. 
 Obliged to unshirt and reshirt ! 
 
 I shall never do it without a bottle of soda. 
 Fiz whiz! wish wush bounce! Uh! Uh! 0, 
 my breath's gone! Now give me my fiddle trum 
 trum this string's wrong Now let us try 
 trum trum tram diddle diddle diddle 
 diddle very well ! 
 
 "Come, come, Master Janus! be serious for a 
 minute, and tell us what you mean by sticking 
 .up a Pygmalion's idol to be admired, and hiring 
 lodgings for her, and buying jewels and a harp, and 
 a Leonardo, and no one knows what besides ; and 
 frisking and skipping about her, and fidgeting her
 
 278 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 gown this way, and twitching her ribbons t'other,. 
 and all sorts of monkey tricks ; and then as soon as 
 you have got together a tolerable crowd of specta- 
 tors, you give her a slap on the back tumble her 
 down on the flags, and break her all to bits ! We 
 say again, what do you mean by it, Sir ? " Most 
 respected Editor ! have mercy on me, and don't 
 look so black ! I didn't go to do any harm ; indeed 
 I didn't ! I'll tell you the truth, upon my word ! 
 
 You must know I've been grieving some time at 
 the unfair dealing of Sir Walter towards Mr. Francis 
 Tunstall (The fortunes of Niggle). He introduced 
 Mm to us at first with great ceremony and sem- 
 blance of almost parental regard ; he painted his 
 mind and body in the most flattering colours ; and 
 then suddenly, without any visible cause, turned 
 his back on him, and never showed him any coun- 
 tenance thencefor wards. 
 
 Now, Sir, my sister took a liking to the young 
 man ; (and so did a great many girls for that 
 matter!) she said it was pity he couldn't find a 
 wife suitable to him and so I said I'd write 
 him one, and so, Sir 
 
 That's all, Sir." Yes, Sir. It is all indeed ! all 
 that you shall ever speak in this house. Thomas I 
 show Mr. Weathercock down-stairs! Mr. Secre- 
 tary ! Erase his name from the list of contribu- 
 tors ! " 
 
 Oh ! pray, dear charming ladies ! do speak for 
 me ! I'll never (Tlie double door recoils, and 
 knocks Janus backwards down the stone staircase.. 
 Exit Janus /)
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 279 
 
 THE ACADEMY OF TASTE FOR GROWN 
 
 GENTLEMEN, OR THE INFANT CONNOISSEUR'S 
 GO-CART. 1 
 
 BY JANUS WEATHERCOCK, ESQ. 
 No. 1. 
 
 Not to be continued. 
 
 My dear friend and companion ! if you should think me 
 somewhat sparing of my narrative on my first setting-out 
 bear with me, and let me go on, and tell my story my own 
 way : or, if I should seem now or then to trifle upon the 
 road, or should sometimes put on a fool's cap, with a bell 
 to it, for a moment or two as we pass along, don't fly off, 
 but rather courteously give me credit for a little more wisdom, 
 than appears iipon my outside; and, as we jog on, either 
 laugh with me, or at me, or, in short, do any thing, only 
 keep your temper. Tristram Shandy. 
 
 Now every word of this, quoth my uncle Toby, 
 
 is Arabic to me. I wish, said Yorick, 'twas so to half the 
 world. Tristram Shandy again. 
 
 I BELIEVE that theory and practice are the two 
 great original warring elements. Fire and water 
 have sympathetic particles, and lie open to a sort 
 of reconcilement; but theory and practice practice 
 and theory turn them, and twist them, and beat 
 them, and pound them, as much as you please, and 
 when all's done, away they roll asunder in their un- 
 
 1 [London Magazine, November, 1822.]
 
 280 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 social, unadulterate completeness, like those con- 
 founded globules of quick-silver which get out of 
 your weather-glasses, and worry little boys, whose 
 combinative impulses begin to be objective. There 
 is Mr. * * * * *, who knows more about paintings 
 than all the Academy together (make three excep- 
 tions) well, Sir, his whole life has been employed 
 in weighing these two things one against the other, 
 and strenuously endeavouring to achieve a horizon- 
 tal " a hair will do it ! " in goes the hair and up 
 goes one scale to the heavens ! " Whew ! There's 
 something wrong about the scales ! " and he rectifies 
 and rectifies them as if they were spirits of wine. 
 " Now we have it ! " Lack-a-daisy ! " How ? 
 Great Genius of metaphysics ! but I spy an adven- 
 titious flaw in the wall : it's the wind that comes 
 
 through that crack which turns my " and the 
 
 putty is applied instanter! He turns (a voluntary 
 Sisyphus) with fresh hope to his dear torment, his 
 cherished Nessus's shirt still it singeth its old 
 tune 
 
 Here we go up, up, up, 
 
 And here we go down, down, down a, 
 
 fickle and wavering as "Giralda, that famous 
 giantess of Seville." 1 But still he perseveres ; and 
 though I firmly believe he never will bring about 
 this match, I am equally satisfied that, if it is to 
 be accomplished during this generation, he is the 
 man. 
 
 1 Vide Don Quixote's colloquy with the knight of the 
 looking-glasses.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 281 
 
 This last paragraph, that is, this first paragraph, 
 has more utility in it than anything I ever 
 penned if you apprehend it, and pull it, and 
 stretch it, and put your hand into it, and don't 
 be afraid of hurting it I warrant it tough as as 
 india-rubber, or let this comparison be lest 
 we go farther and fare worse. it is a seed, 
 which set in good moist soil would sprout up into 
 whole royal quartos ! a philosophical Fortunatus's 
 purse ! 
 
 Yet I could give it an unmendable slit. Shall 
 I ? No ! for, whatever rotten planks compose my 
 flooring, ingratitude, if I know myself (0 ridiculous 
 if I) hath not place there; and that paragraph 
 hath served me for a tolerably decent opening. I 
 amend my epithet ! 'tis an excellent opening, 
 excellent because appropriate, as I shall demon- 
 strate in a minute after, just insisting that the 
 power of grasping and penetrating propriety in its 
 high original sense is the absolute key-stone 
 of genuine criticism. I dare say, gentlemen and 
 ladies, this seems to you like a self-evident propo- 
 sition ; but if you will just take the trouble to 
 scrutinize some of our Reviews, I trust the remark 
 will not be deemed impertinent : have you looked, 
 Sir ? All ! you quite agree with me, I see ! your per- 
 ceptions are extremely delicate and acute. Now for 
 the appropriateness, which you must be told arises 
 out of its perfect reverse pray, Sir, don't jump off 
 the chair and run to the door ; I am not mad 
 
 My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time, 
 And makes as healthful music.
 
 282 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 (By the bye, the present / am not must be changed 
 into the imperfect I was not, what time you shall 
 wield the ivory liberator of our close-shut wisdom.) 
 " Arises out of its perfect reverse," I think I said 
 then conies your quomodo ? Thus, sweet Sir. You 
 are aware, doubtless, that every overture to an 
 opera (I don't mean English ones) contains, or is 
 believed to contain, (which is just the same to me 
 in this sentence) certain 1 forebodings, prophecies, 
 warnings of the musical events, the harmonious 
 main action : which indications and prognostic 
 notes stand in the same relation and likeness to 
 their after development, as do the lightly-fleeting 
 bloom-flowers to the red-gold harvest of plumpy 
 fruit. 
 
 This theory of the mutual dependences of the 
 opera and its overture is the same with my theory 
 of the subject of an article (supposing, just for the 
 sake of argument, an article to have a subject, 
 which is not always the case ; though that's neither 
 here nor there) would you, dear Doctor examine 
 my cranium ? and perhaps we may light on the 
 confounded Jack-'o-the-lantern lump, whence spirt 
 and squirt all these impedimental excrescences, 
 these parentheses ? But I can't stop now, because 
 I have a sentence getting cold, therefore I write, 
 " and its proemium" which three words make it 
 warm and air-tight. 
 
 This theory is my delight and iny night-mare. 
 Its beauty begets my love, and my incapacity to- 
 obey its commands drives me crazy my practice 
 is like Mr. M.'s mouth, " all on the other side." In
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 283- 
 
 vain I resolve and resolve this shall be on Mr. 
 Angerstein's collection this on Eaffaello ! this on 
 modern embellished books ! and so on. No sooner 
 is my pen filled with ink, but my conceit (I have 
 not the vanity to affect a fancy, much less an 
 imagination) goes round like a whirligig, and then 
 shoots away in the very direction it should not. 
 Our dear Editor is quite accustomed to this chance- 
 medley method (that's a superlatively wrong word ! 
 I wish you'd blot it, and insert a fitter) and dreams 
 not of investigating nicely my intentions, or rather 
 my probabilities, but blancQy enquires, " if there will 
 be anything for the next?" What this present 
 may produce, it is quite impossible to say. I* had 
 made up for the Dulwich Gallery, therefore I rather 
 suspect the crack- dub, traveller's room at the 
 White-horse Cellar, may be drawn from their cosey 
 box in the corner for the amusement of the London 
 Contractors. 1 But it is absolutely necessary for 
 my character as a logical reasoner that I make out 
 my proposition ; and how it is to be done I know 
 not except I cut off all sympathetical connection 
 betwixt the foregoing and the hereafter of my 
 agreeable paper, in which case the ins and the aps 
 coalesce, and shine out as clear as the stars in the 
 constellation Ariaphlistron ! 
 
 We have been repeatedly told that many worthy 
 folks would collect and patronize genuine engra- 
 vings and etchings, if they did but know how to 
 
 1 To contract is to take in, whence the substantive Con- 
 tractors, people who take in any thing or body, such as- 
 magazines, horses, single gentlemen, and the like.
 
 284 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 begin ; therefore, for the joint advantage of the 
 said well-disposed persons, ourself the LONDON 
 MAGAZINE ESTABLISHMENT, and Messrs. Colnaghi, 
 Hurst, Molteno, Smith, Woodburne, &c., we pro- 
 nounce the collectaneal fundaments to be, first, a 
 pair of shears, thirteen inches long : secondly, a 
 ream of tinted paper (there is great variety at 
 Heath's) : and, thirdly, a few loose hundreds. 
 (We'll not say thousands, lest beginners be daunted.) 
 
 Next it will be well to determine on the nature 
 of your design, whether the collection shall be 
 artistical or collcctorical ! If the latter, have a coat 
 constructed with pockets, enough strong and 
 spacious, to hold the sixteen volumes of Bartsch ; 
 rise at six in the morning ; couch not till twelve ; 
 and at the end of forty years and as many thousand 
 pounds you shall have some eight tomes of said 
 Peintre-Graveur tolerably illustrated ! ! ! But if, 
 thrice happy ! the fairies sung at your birth, and 
 the former is your aspiration, listen to the advice 
 of Horam, the son of Asrnar I beg pardon 
 listen to the advice of him yclept by the gods (my 
 little girl is reading the Tales of the Genii close by 
 
 my side, and my eye caught the ) yclept by 
 
 the gods Janus Weathercock, and by men Thomas 
 Euggli 
 
 Youth of promise ! be it your first study to clear 
 your mind out thoroughly, so that it may be 
 ^ pure apartment, wherein the giants of old shall 
 
 1 N.B. No connection with any person of the same 
 name formerly at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden.
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 285 
 
 have due honours. Beware of dreaming of errors 
 in those mighty beings for, at the least, two years ; 
 and esteem it much, if in so short a probation you; 
 view the shadow of their glory afar off. The great 
 planets of modern art, under whose aspects we 
 may always walk in safety, are these ; Leonardo 
 da Vinci, Michael Angelo, Eaffaello, Tiziano, Cor- 
 reggio, Poussin, Eubens, and Eembrandt. And 
 they have their attendant stars, their moons j 
 Luino, Gio. di Bologna, Giulio, Tibaldi, Perino, 
 Polidoro, Primaticcio, Tintoretto, Paolo, Parmigi- 
 anino, Gaspar, La Sueur, Bourdon, Vandyke, Die- 
 penbeke, Watteau, Elsheimer, &c. (How their 
 names relish in the mouth !) All these are com- 
 ponents of one grand harmonious system. 
 
 The lights of Germany and the Low Countries 
 seem to belong to another hemisphere, or, if mys- 
 teriously connected, with links too fine for such 
 poco curante eyes as mine. Tlieir designations are 
 hard and cramped as their emanations ; Franz- 
 von Bockholt, Zingel, Israel van Mecken, Martin 
 Schongauer, Albrecht Durer, Lucas Cranach, Lucas 
 van Leyden, Burgmair, Altorfer; or, strange 
 and preposterous, Karl Van Mander, Bloemart, 
 Heynz, Hans Abach, Goltzius, and Bartholomew 
 Spranger. There were other great masters, whose 
 inventions (truly so termed) lie for the most part 
 buried in heavy German Biblical epitomes and 
 translations from Livy and Josephus. Switzerland 
 claims them, and envies Italia her Eaffaello and 
 Giulio the less, when possessing the simplicity, 
 the science, the truth of Holbein, and the always, 
 vigorous, often sublime, fertility of Tobias Stimmer.
 
 286 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 This bare enumeration, brief as it is, may 
 perhaps cause some alarm to the Student, and 
 distrust of the possibility of annexing characteristic 
 ideas to such a Babylonish entanglement of un- 
 wonted sounds; but be of good cheer, and turn 
 -diligently the leaves of Fuseli's Pilkington (second 
 edition, 1810), regarding as apocryphal all articles, 
 Tiaving neither initial asterisks nor conclusive Fs. 
 'The six Discourses of the learned Keeper, (4to, 
 1820) will warm and elevate your fancy, and 
 stimulate your exertions ; and therein the second 
 lecture is to be perpetually consulted as the most 
 correct chart of your exhilarating voyage yet laid 
 down. 
 
 Let me also place on your study table the works 
 of Sir Joshua; and trouble not your head about 
 the futile cavillings and the commixture of invol- 
 untary and wilful misrepresentations against that 
 judicious and acute writer, which have been much 
 disseminated by hasty, half-dipped, and avowedly 
 prejudiced persons, doubtless with a sordid view 
 to pull down Art from her lofty Quadriga to crawl 
 on her belly and eat the dust of the earth all the 
 days of her life. Blind owls and cuckoos ! but we 
 lose ourselves somewhat in making mention of 
 their barbarous noise. 
 
 The first movement of an ardent and sincere 
 mind on perusing the above books will be to pant 
 after (both metaphorically and literally) engravings 
 from the pictures selected as most marked with 
 the features of their respective parents : against 
 which consummation several obstacles are arrayed.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 287 
 
 One grows from the slight touch that rather hints 
 at, than describes and defines, the picture in 
 question ; as where, for instance, a " Christ's 
 Agony," by Durer, is mentioned in Fuseli (Lectures, 
 page 87), without any token to discriminate it 
 among four or five representations of the same 
 scene by the same artist. Another originates in 
 the print-vendor, who is (generally speaking) 
 rather acquainted with engravers than their proto- 
 types. 
 
 During my noviciate I used to wander about in 
 great distress, seeking every where for what I 
 could not find GiuHo Eomanos. At last my 
 good (nay, but bad) angel or Bartsch, thrust 
 me against portfolios of Bonasone, Ghisi, -<3Eneas 
 Vici, overpassed by me at least twice a day for 
 the previous six months ! Thence did they pour 
 "beyond the control of my purse. The third and 
 most insuperable let, is the depressing fact, that 
 from many pictures (and those highly desirable) 
 no prints whatever have "been made, or so inade- 
 quately as to illustrate with the light of a dark 
 lantern, as our friend M&lowny wittily conceiteth. 
 Perhaps the mention of these difficulties was 
 unnecessary, as their existence possesses credibility 
 from the witness of this present paper ; for truly, 
 were the pursuit open "to the meanest capacities," 
 the herein proffered assistance would be officiously 
 needless. 
 
 Dear reader ! I assume the fact that you are 
 a man of observation and reflection ; and, having 
 ventured to lay down that proposition, I deem it
 
 288 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 not foolhardy also to assume that it has not 
 'scaped you, how shamefully disproportioned is the 
 facility of rolling down hill to the toil of straining 
 up ! Don't laugh, if you please ; but apply this 
 incontrovertible circumstance to beauty and de- 
 formity in the plastic and graphic arts. Hard to 
 climb and slippery is the high-heaven-piercing 
 tower of the former; but easy easy 0, how 
 easy to dive into the murky dungeons of the 
 latter. In plain English, imbue and saturate your 
 mind with the ever- varying, endless loveliness of 
 the antique statues. Submit yourself to their 
 influence as a child to its parents ; let them again 
 be divinities to you; brush away every pitiful 
 doubt of their transcendent excellence; tremble- 
 to blaspheme their celestial radiance, lest thou be 
 thrown into the hell of Egbert Hemskerch, where 
 nought is, save the mops and mows, and chat- 
 terings of apes. If we would reach any worthy 
 degree either of perception or execution in any 
 noble art (and what art is not noble, if under- 
 stood and followed in its height ?) that wretched 
 vice of a profligate age that carping not mirth 
 that scoffing must be eschewed utterly. That 
 invention, that device all epithets are too ho- 
 nourable that TRICK of imbecile and indurated 
 grovellers to drag down and belute in their miry 
 pool all that is exalted in moral principle, deep in 
 feeling, and generously devoted in action ! Cast 
 it out ; loath and spit upon it, believing that 
 your trusting love shall at the end work out its. 
 own reward.
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 280 
 
 Is this the chosen room dedicated to carved and 
 painted poetry ? Very good ! Its height, I take 
 it, is about fourteen feet, six inches pity it had 
 not three more but we must darken your win- 
 dows for the space of nine feet upwards from the 
 floor at least ! Would we had a sky-light ! Your 
 carpet is too spotty and dazzling be contented 
 with a sober ash-grey drugget. We shall do now, 
 I fancy ; so let the men bring in the pedestals. 
 Hollo ! without there ! (a mighty scraping and, 
 shuffling, stamping, puffing, lumping, wheezing and 
 grunting, is heard in the hall the door opens and 
 various ponderosities are borne in and set down, as 
 tcrongly as usual. Janus and Collector bestir 
 themselves ivith shoulder and voice, and the things 
 are at length arranged. C. orders the men some- 
 thing to drink, and they retire uncouthly grate- 
 
 M) 
 
 Come, Sir, the work warms ; much is done ; but 
 more remains to do ! (This is a clever contrivance, 
 isn't it ? Look ! these larger pedestals open, and 
 are shelved to hold all the portfolios you will 
 have.) The altars are ready, but where are the 
 gods ? at Mazzoni's and Papera's, I trow ! " Ah ! 
 dear W. now your taste and judgment are indis- 
 pensable! direct my choice, thou male mundane 
 muse ! " Hither for such purpose am I come ! 
 First, the Deity of the Belvedere shall from this 
 loftiest state overlook the apartment; his own 
 consecrated temple Royal Apollo ! The unshorn 
 Phoebus ! King of the fiery arrow and tough 
 string ! 
 
 u
 
 290 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Whom e'en the gods themselves fear when he goes 
 Through Jove's high house : and when his goodly bows 
 He goes to bend, all from their thrones arise 
 And cluster near t' admire his faculties. 
 
 Homeric Hymn to Apollo. 
 
 On this low oaken couch let us spread the 
 leopard-skin whereon Hermaphroditus is wont to 
 recline the inexplicable, bewildering attractions of 
 his delicate limbs; though perhaps, his twin 
 brother, surnamed of the mattrass, may better 
 please the visual ray. But no ! 
 
 Sweet flowers of equal bloom, 
 Invidious praise or blame 
 Shall never sunder ye ! 
 
 Far be it from me to disturb those fair poppied 
 lids with paltry technical bickerings : sleep on 
 in your innocent nakedness unconscious of gazing 
 admiration ! Sleep on in the shrine of your coy 
 grace ! God-like conjunctions, sleep on ! x 
 
 After a thousand mazes overgone, 
 
 At last, with sudden step, he came upon 
 
 A chamber myrtle wall'd, embower'd high, 
 
 Full of light, incense, tender minstrelsy, 
 
 And more of beautiful and strange beside : 
 
 For on a silken couch of rosy pride, 
 
 In midst of all, there lay a sleeping youth 
 
 Of fondest beauty ; * * * 
 
 1 The following lines, by the lamented Keats, illustrate 
 the precious Florentine gem representing this " mixture of 
 wondrous mood."
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 291 
 
 ~* * Sideway his face reposed 
 
 On one white arm, and tenderly unclosed, 
 
 By tendevest pressure, a faint damask mouth 
 
 To slumbery pout ; just as the morning south 
 
 Disparts a dew-lipped rose. Above his head, 
 
 Pour lily stalks did their white honours wed 
 
 To make a coronal ; and round him grew 
 
 All tendrils green, of every bloom and hue, 
 
 Together intertwined and trammel'd fresh : 
 
 -***** 
 
 * * * * Hard by, 
 
 Stood serene Cupids watching silently. 
 
 One, kneeling to a lyre, touch'd the strings, 
 
 Muffling to death the pathos with his wings ; 
 
 And, ever and anon, uprose to look 
 
 At the youth's slumber ; while another took 
 
 A willow-bough, distilling odorous dew, 
 
 And shook it on his hair ; another flew 
 
 In through the woven roof, and fluttering- wise 
 
 Eain'd violets upon his sleeping eyes. Endymion. 
 
 And do tliou, Saturnian Aplirodite, or what- 
 ever name may more delight thine ear, Cyprides, 
 Venus, or Astarte, Cytherea with the violet 
 crown, do thou, genial queen, pour round thy 
 son the sanctuary of thy benumbing beauty! 
 For here, over his rest, will we erect the bending 
 statue that enchants the world ! (Where breathes 
 the wretched man that can resist 'the force of 
 Yenus swimming all in gold ? ') Do the raptures 
 of Byron seem exaggerated ? 
 
 There too the goddess loves in stone, and fills 
 The air around with beauty ; we inhale 
 The ambrosial aspect, which beheld instils 
 Part of its immortality ; the veil 
 Of heaven is half undrawn : within the pale 
 
 u 2
 
 292 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 We stand, and in that form and face beliold 
 
 What mind can make, when Nature's self would fail ; 
 
 And to the fond idolaters of old 
 
 Envy the innate flash which such a soul could mould. 
 
 We gaze and turn away, and know not where, 
 Dazzled and drunk with beauty, till the heart 
 Reels with its fulness ; there for ever there 
 Chain'd to the chariot of triumphant art, 
 We stand as captives, and would not depart. 
 Away ! there needs no words, nor terms precise, 
 The paltry jargon of the marble mart, 
 Where Pedantry gulls Folly, we have eyes : 
 Blood, pulse, and breast, confirm the Dardan shepherd's 
 prize ! 
 
 For my own humble part, I can truly describe 
 her intense power over me as that of the moon on 
 the restless tides ; a Syrenic song a fascinating- 
 agony an extasy sharper than scourges a most 
 blighting loveliness ! and thou, gentle girl ! (I 
 reck not of men "the daily world's true world- 
 lings ! " woman alone hath the sensitive touch, the 
 thrilling apprehension !) who now bendest over 
 this shallow page the rich curls of thy amaranthine 
 hair, do thou believe me for the honour of true 
 natural feeling : a poet worthy of thee soon shall 
 sing, how once of old a Grecian maid died for the 
 love of Pythius : unseen his image, save in the 
 mirror of great Phidias. 1 
 
 1 Another instance in our time. A young German 
 (Muller) undertook to engrave the noble Madonna del 
 Sisto of Raffaello. Like a true disciple, he wedded his 
 soul to the object of his choice so completely, that all 
 faculties of mind were absorbed, and finally exhaxisted.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 29 a 
 
 I leave to learned fingers and wise hands, 
 
 The Artist and his ape, to teach and tell 
 
 How well his connoisseurship understands 
 
 The graceful bend and the voluptuous swell : 
 
 Let these describe the undescribable. Byron. 
 
 But we have not time to dwell on these jewels 
 now. I have five or six visits to make before 
 dinner (a very common case with authors), and 
 can but just manage to run over the contents of 
 this list, and see if they are all right. First, the 
 grand bust of Zeus, with deathless brow bent 
 forward under the shade of black ambrosial curls, 
 .awfully beautiful : likest to some huge hill, wood- 
 covered ! A capital cast, not at all dear at five 
 .guineas ! I see but one of the crouching nymphs 
 {or Venuses) ! We must have the other, who 
 wards off the foliage-piercing sun-beams from her 
 iintelope eyes with the right hand, while the left 
 ^compresses the water from her crinite veil ! "With 
 regard to the Antinous, I cannot bring my judg- 
 ment to allow its indispensability. Suppose, then, 
 we exchange him for the Two Decii, as they are 
 vulgarly called. They are more poetical, richer in 
 .suggestions. Yon bracket must be lowered a foot, 
 to show properly that noble helmeted head of 
 Pelides, the terriblest of men, the loved seducer 
 of Deidamia ! 
 
 He finished his labour and died ! His heart fracted and 
 corroborate [sic] through hopeless love ! The guiltless 
 murderess has a conspicuous place in Colnaghi's room ; 
 but I rarely look at it : the desolate fate of the enthusiast 
 is too depressing for my crazy nerves !
 
 294 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Where shall we find a light sufficiently pervad- 
 ing for my exquisite coquette, my alluring bash- 
 fulness, "who with such ravishing affectation gathers- 
 sidelong the thin robes high from her blooming; 
 limbs, long stepping 
 
 Thou beauteous-ankled nameless one, what country gave- 
 
 thee birth ? 
 Who was the god, or god-like youth, made blessed with thy 
 
 love? 
 
 What thrilling fingers 
 
 Drew o'er the rounded wrist the elastic ring of gold 1 l 
 
 Is nature now worn .out ? Or wert tliou always,, 
 as now, a vision of desire, the flower of a mind 
 burning with the idea of beauty (never to be 
 realised, but by its own faint reflection) et prcvterca 
 nihil ? Frequent in my dreams of day and night 
 do those braided locks, " so simply elegant," 2 
 arise as from a warm gloom, an odorous shroud. 
 That retorted neck, those plump shoulders, that 
 bosom indevirginate ! 
 
 In Fouque's pure romance, The Minstrel Love,. 
 the forms of the Greek divinities (as raised up by 
 the magician Ultramonte) interweave themselves- 
 so thoroughly with the brain-fibres of a young, 
 visionary, as to become essential to his sanity;, 
 their momentary disappearance induces frightful 
 
 1 No one who knows any thing of any thing, can apply 
 the above imperfect pinch of character to any statue but the 
 misnomed Grecian Shepherdess, or Venus Kallipyga. 
 
 2 The simplex munditiis of Flaccus is thus feelingly 
 rendered by Elton.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 295 
 
 convulsions. I am not quite so far gone; yet 
 I protest I know not how to pass them by even 
 with so desirable an end as brevity. Let us try 
 again. The torso of Eros, usually designated the 
 Genius of the Capitol (at least, it is so in Volpato's 
 Arte del Disegno) : the bust of the Monte Cavallo 
 Colossus : ditto of Juno, or Eoma with the Dia- 
 dem (engraved by Morghen and Volpato). The 
 little Capitoline Apollo without drapery, leaning 
 on a stump, the right-hand raised and pressed 
 behind the head. Item. Pallas Athene in the 
 helmet with a fixed visor, impressed with a rani's 
 head lust, size of life. Item. The noted group 
 of Cupid and Psyche. Item, the famous Borghese 
 Vase, rough with the holy madness of the vintage. 
 Item, the Boy extracting the Thorn from his 
 Foot. Item, Phocion (Bust}. Item, the tremend- 
 ous warrior of Agasias, nick-named the " Fighting 
 Gladiator." Item, the Little Venus (Mus. Brittan. 
 Torso), of the highest period of art. Item, the 
 youngest daughter of Niobe, Bust. " And finally, 
 lastly, to conclude," Item, the Huntress of the 
 Ortygian groves, to whose glory and memory we 
 will, so please you, chaunt the following Homeric 
 hymn, venerable Chapman's version. My work 
 always goes on better after a song! Does not 
 yours ? 
 
 Diana praise, muse that in darts delights, 
 Lives still a maid, and had nutritial rites 
 With her born-brother, the far-shooting sun, 
 That doth her all-of-gold-made chariot run 
 In chase of game, from Meles, that abounds
 
 296 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 In black-brow'd bulrushes (and where her hounds 
 She first uncouples, joining there her horse), 
 Through Smyrna, carried in most fiery course 
 To grape-rich Claros : where (in his rich home 
 And constant expectation she will come) 
 Sits Phoebus that the silver bow doth bear, 
 To meet with Phoebe, that doth darts transfer 
 As far as he his shafts as far then be 
 Thy chaste fame shot, Queen of Archery ! 
 
 You are now provided with a noble band of 
 tutelaries, and I heartily envy you the virgin 
 delight of contemplating them by lamp light 
 from the ease of your morocco fauteuil. But 
 pleasures require intermission and variation: there- 
 fore it is necessary to convert that chiffoniere into 
 a little store closet for Tassie's cameos and intaglios 
 (or rather a selection out of his immense catalogue). 
 Suppose you put in the following as nest eggs 
 they are among the finest, both in scientific drawing, 
 harmony of composition, grace of outline (in which 
 they stand unrivalled from the restoration of art 
 in Italy downwards), and masterly workmanship. 
 To appreciate these qualities, attention must be 
 directed to throwing them into a forcible and 
 appropriate chiaroscuro, and the general rule is, 
 that the light should stream over the surface 
 obliquely from the top : the gentlest projections 
 are thus brought up, while the back-ground remains 
 in a tender demi-tint. 
 
 The enumeration below hath no allurement, 
 but pardon it for utility's sake. I will begin, more 
 Hcsiodi, with far-heard Jove ! the sublime head 
 of Jupiter ,<Egiochus, in which I almost regard as
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 297 
 
 Supernatural the quality of intense observation, 
 comparison, and teclinic grasp, evidenced by the 
 junction and harmonization of opposing essences, 
 activity and repose, the unbroken bloom of youth, 
 and deep council of age. 1 Next in worth, but not 
 in size, I rank the fragment (but a nose, mouth 
 and chin) of Apollo (2773). The large, high- 
 breasted Minerva (1647), or rather Aspasia flattered 
 with her attributes, a gem of unsurpassable refine- 
 ment. The exquisite IDiomedes with the Palladium 
 (to be studied with a magnifier}. Hercules (Theseus) 
 with the Marathoniau Bull. The Hercules and 
 lole of the Palais Pitti. Female crouching, with 
 a laver (6266). The grand Front of Serapis, or 
 Pluto. The dancing Bacchus (4290), justly deemed 
 by Mr. Cumberland the ne plus ultra of Greek 
 art. 2 The portentous Sphinx (51), still and mina- 
 cious as a growing storm-cloud. Heracles destroy- 
 ing the blood-feasting cranes of Stympalus : he 
 kneels by the haunted lake, and looses the thrilling 
 string on the obscene fowl vainly beating with 
 loud wings the air. Near the Theban hero we will 
 place his latest friend, Philoctetes, left lonely in 
 rude sea-girt Lemnos, wasted with lean disease, 
 
 1 In the history of the fine arts among the Greeks, their 
 development was subjected to an invariable law of separa- 
 ting, in the most rigid manner, every thing dissimilar, and 
 afterwards combining and elevating the similar, by internal 
 excellence, to one independent and harmonious whole. 
 Hence the various departments, with them, are all confined 
 within their natural boundaries, and the different styles 
 distinctly marked. A. W. Schlegel. 
 
 2 Thoughts on Outline, 4to, 26 plates, 1796.
 
 298 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 and tortured with the poison of the serpent's tooth! 
 Squalid, naked, the miserable creature lies drooping 
 over the putrid wound, cooling its fever with a 
 bird's wing, a situation of desolate wretchedness- 
 too heavy for pity. Turn to one whose name 
 has brighter associations, dark-haired Sappho, 
 she that felt the stings of Cupid's either arrow 1 
 the twi-flamed torch therefore so soon, alas, 
 burnt out ! The Lesbian is placed on an elevated 
 seat, and supported partly by one slender arm, 
 while the other glowing palm is held forth re- 
 proachfully to the deceitful Phaon. No drapery 
 hides her smooth shoulders and body ; but over 
 her knees a gauzy peplon spreads in folds trans- 
 parent as a stream, and sinuous as its waves : 
 so in 1 sweet Spenser the fair witch, Acrasia, lies in 
 her delicious bower 
 
 Aray'tl, or rather disaray'd 
 
 All in a vele of silk and silver thin, 
 
 That hid no whit her alablaster skin, 
 
 But rather shewd more white, if more might bee : 
 
 More subtle web Arachne cannot spin ; 
 
 Nor the fine nets which oft we woven see 
 
 Of scorched deaw, do not in th' ayre more lightly flee. 
 
 Let Mr. Tassie also receive your instructions to 
 cast the following beauties. The fragniental sit- 
 ting Venus and Cupid, with two cornucopice. The 
 voluptuous kneeling Leda (1199). The same 
 subject (1232). The misnomed naked Psyche, her 
 back nearly turned to us, looking up at a rock 
 (engraved by Moses, as Diana and Acteon). Greek 
 Avarrior, completely armed, cowering behind his-
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 290 
 
 shield (7471). " The Nymph of beauteous ankles, 
 Amphitrite, Daughter of Doris many-tressed," 
 
 -Whose haunt 
 
 Is midst the waters of the sterile main. 
 
 Next, the Nereid (2600) skimming the briny 
 green with buoyant limbs. Another Nymph of 
 deep-flowing ocean (2599). The Moon, Jove's 
 daughter, in her chariot, drawn by two ramping 
 horses, with manes of curled flames. Gracefully 
 reaching forward, she moderates their snorting 
 speed ; and, from her far-off-seen silver robes 
 exhales unspeakable splendour round about the 
 sky star-powdered. The sitting Clio, examining a 
 scroll, her lyre near her on a pedestal, most deli- 
 cate workmanship. The Egyptian Lioness (36) a 
 terrific idea. The Sleeping Hermaphrodite, fanned 
 by Cupids, mentioned above (2516). A rich frag- 
 ment (Love reining in two Tigers yoked to a car, 
 of which only the fore wheel remains, 6731). 
 A bearded warrior and two high-bred horses, a 
 matchless gem. Venus putting off her sandal 
 (6230). The bust of Adrian's favourite, the Boy 
 Antinous : the massy hair arranged with the ut- 
 most science and feeling (11701). The noted 
 Minerva of the Florence Gallery (1536), wearing, 
 the JEgis as a breast-plate ; her neck is circled 
 with a splendid chain composed of pearls and 
 golden acorns ; large drops of the same are in 
 her ears, and her high head is crowned with an, 
 elaborately ornamented casque, triple -crested 
 (rpv(f)d\eia). The finely-shaped but singular
 
 300 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Amor drawing his low, engraved by Millin (6625). 
 The precious cameo of Achilles beguiling the 
 wearisome hours of his voluntary idleness with 
 the sounds of his phorininx, agreeable to the de- 
 scription of Homer, 
 
 Tbv 8' tupov <ppeva rfpir6/j.evov (j>6p/j.iyyi Xtyelrf, 
 K.a\rj, 8aj8a\e77, ^jrl 8' apyvptos f"yos i^ey, &c. 
 
 UiaS. (. 186. 
 
 thus expounded by Mr. Lamb's fine old favourite, 
 Chapman (Cowper is flat and wrong, in my 
 opinion) : 
 
 -They found him set 
 
 Delighted with his solemn harp, which curiously was 
 fret, 
 
 With works conceited, through the verge. The Lawdrick 
 that embrac't 
 
 His lofty neck was silver twist : this (when his hand laid 
 waste 
 
 Ections city) he did chuse, as his especial prize, 
 
 And loving sacred music well, made it his exercise. 
 
 To it he sung the glorious deeds of great Heroes dead, 
 
 And his true mind, that practice fail'd, 1 with contem- 
 plation fed. 
 
 I shall not trouble you, Sir, with any more items 
 of this catalogue, at least, for the duration of thirty 
 days ; the which time is sufficiently filled up for 
 the most ravenous of Hot-up-on'ts. However, as 
 & sort of supplement to the casts, I recommend 
 Sir W. Hamilton's second collection of vases, 
 edited by Tischbein ; the letter-press from the 
 
 1 i.e. lacked.
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 301 
 
 learned pen of Italinsky. It was put forth at 
 different times, in four volumes folio ; each con- 
 taining about 62 plates, chastely engraved in 
 outline, illustrative of the Bacchic and Eleusinian 
 mysteries, and the noble traditions of Thebes 
 and windy Ilium. Though far superior in fidelity 
 to the costly tomes of D'PIancarville, and equal, 
 quite equal in interest of subject and captivating 
 grace of design : it has never met with its due re- 
 gard in this country, and, I dare say, may be picked 
 up under its original price (twelve guineas), though 
 that was extremely moderate, considering its 
 handsome appearance. Should many of the com- 
 positions strike you at the first opening as quaint 
 and uncouth, be not discouraged from the purchase, 
 but modestly yield the palm of taste to the old 
 artists; and pique yourself rather on extracting 
 gold-dust from the concealing mud, than in pos- 
 sessing the microscopic vision of the fly for filth 
 and deformity. 1 
 
 I have thus commenced a plan of study, calcu- 
 lated, I sincerely believe, to inspire a true, because 
 well-principled, love for the fine arts a plan which, 
 if strenuously supported and acted on, would 
 speedily abolish the pernicious, the senseless 
 method of collecting, not by painters, but by their 
 translators (rather traducers), the engravers, a class 
 of craftsmen whose highest aim must be implicit 
 servility (hard as the phrase may seem), and who 
 
 1 The characteristic of this odiously squeamish, canting, 
 profligate age !
 
 302 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 necessarily bear the same relation to the inventor, 
 as the mere builder to the architect. 
 
 Dear readers, who have had the politeness to go 
 so far with me, good-night, God bless you all ! 
 and keep you free from such a vile fever and in- 
 flamed wind-pipe as I have now ! If any of 
 you are good-natured and idle, you cannot em- 
 ploy a few minutes more charitably than by 
 writing a civil line or two to our amiable Editors 
 (signed Constant Headers ! ! ) requesting them 
 by all means "to continue the agreeable and 
 popular lectures " of 
 
 JANUS WEATHERCOCK.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 303 
 
 JANUS WEATHERBOUND ; OR, THE WEATHER- 
 COCK STEADFAST FOR LACK OF OIL. 1 
 
 A GRAVE EPISTLE. 
 
 Ear-cracking Fleet-street o'er, 
 
 And the resounding shore, 2 
 
 A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament ; 
 
 From the Magazine, 
 
 Clothed in dismal green, 
 
 The parting Janus 3 is with sighing sent. 
 
 Milton, slightly altered. 
 
 DEAR PROPRIETORS! (for convenience sake let 
 me condense ye) Dear Proprietor! (one I have 
 ever found ye, both heart and hand.) I address 
 this letter to you rather than to the Editor, as 
 something hearty, cordial a tangibility, one that 
 hath eyes, ears and nerves, even as a contributor ; 
 liable to the same sicknesses, mental and bodily ; 
 possessing human sympathies and dimensions. I 
 know all this. As to the Editor I am doubtful. 
 He is without form : I can't make up my mind to 
 believe in such a nominis umbra. Were any one 
 to describe the colour of his coat and breeches, I 
 should look on such description as an absurd fiction, 
 or at best as an allegory a shadowy fable for the 
 clarifying solution of some new Palcvphatus de in- 
 <credibilibus. My soul entertaineth no affection for 
 
 [ l London Magazine, January, 1823.] 
 2 Shore pro Strand. 3 Janus, Hibernice, pro Genius.
 
 304 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 him : how can it ? Doth the farmer love the 
 unseen wind which overturneth his harns, his 
 granaries, devastates his orchards ? He cuts me 
 out three pages (a monstrous cantle ! three painful 
 pages ! three elaborated pages ! print ! ! ) ; he 
 turneth the edges of my keenest razors (rather least 
 Hunt, good Janus !) awry, so that they lose the 
 name of action ; he obliterates a climax ! ! In 
 short, I never saw him in my life ; and therefore, I 
 suppose, hate him abominably. You have now 
 one of my reasons for choosing you for my patient. 
 Secondly, Eemarks on the MAGAZINE and its 
 CONTRIBUTORS seem to dedicate themselves pecu- 
 liarly to the Proprietor and Patron of the said 
 Mag. and Contribs. (what a Procrustean pen !), and 
 thirdly, I cannot suffer this opportunity (the 
 last I shall ever have in the LONDON) to pass away 
 without thanking you publicly, but most truly, for 
 the encouragement my jejune papers have received 
 from your unvarying good-nature. Here permit 
 me to digress for a few lines on a subject on which 
 " all men are fluent, few agreeable self." Many of 
 your readers, as I know, have been, and are sur- 
 prised at the presumption which tendered, at the 
 weakness (that was tbe word) which admitted the 
 tawdry articles signed J.W. and C.V.V. 1 From the 
 latter count I can exculpate you by reminding 
 them of silly readers' sympathy for silly writers : a 
 tub for the whale, a farce for the galleries. That 
 is despatched. I must plead now to the first 
 charge not guilty. 
 
 [ * Cornelius Van Vinkbooms and Janus Weathercock.]
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 305 
 
 As a boy I was placed frequently in literary 
 society ; a giddy, flighty disposition prevented me 
 from receiving tlience any advantage. The little 
 attention I gave to anything was directed to Paint- 
 ing, or rather to an admiration of it ; but, ever to 
 be wiled away by new and flashy gauds, I post- 
 poned the pencil to the sword ; and the noisy 
 audacity of Military conversation, united to the 
 fragrant fumes of whisky-punch (ten tumblers every 
 evening without acid !) obscured my recollections 
 of Michel Angelo as in a dun fog. After a while, 
 several apparently trifling chances determined me 
 against this mode of killing Time and humans. I 
 was idle on the town my blessed Art touched her 
 renegade ; by her pure and high influences the 
 noisome mists were purged ; my feelings, parched, 
 hot and tarnished, were renovated with a cool fresh 
 bloom, childly, simple, beautiful to the simple- 
 hearted. The writings of Wordsworth did much 
 towards calming the confusing whirl necessarily 
 incident to sudden mutations. I wept over them 
 tears of happiness and gratitude : yet my natural 
 impatience, and I may term it fierceness, was not 
 altogether thereby subdued rather condensed and 
 guided against more fit objects, meanness, sordid 
 worldliness, hardness and real vulgarity in what- 
 soever rank it grew ; at least, in such degree as I 
 was capable of distinguishing them. But this 
 serene state was broken, like a vessel of clay, by 
 acute disease, succeeded by a relaxation of the 
 muscles and nerves, which depressed me 
 x
 
 306 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 low 
 
 As through the abysses of a joyless heart 
 The heaviest plummet of despair could go, 
 
 liypochondriasis ! ever shuddering on the horrible 
 abyss of mere insanity! But two excellent 
 secondary agents, a kind and skilful Physician, 
 and a most delicately affectionate and unwearied 
 (though young and fragile) Nurse, brought me at 
 length out of those dead black waters, nearly ex- 
 hausted with so sore a struggle. Steady pursuit 
 was debarred me, arid varied amusement deemed 
 essential to my complete revivication. At this 
 time, the LONDON MAGAZINE was on the stocks ; 
 and its late lamented Editor, taking notice of my 
 enthusiasm for Art, and pitying my estate, requested 
 me to put down on paper some of the expression of 
 feeling whereto I was from time to time excited by 
 the mighty works of Michel, Eaffaello, Correggio, 
 and Eembrandt. With some modifications as to 
 plan, I cheerfully prepared to obey him ; not that I 
 had any hope of carrying such attempt beyond two 
 pages of MS. but it was a new thing. It struck 
 me as something ridiculous, that I, who had 
 never authorized a line, save in Orderly and 
 Guard Reports (and letters for money of course) 
 should be considered competent to appear in 
 a new, double-good Magazine ! I actually laughed 
 outright, to the consternation of my cat and dog, 
 who wondered, I believe, what a plague ailed me. 
 A reaction commenced, and I put so much gaiety 
 and spirit into my First Contribution, that S. 1 was 
 
 [ ! John Scott, original Editor of the London Magazine.]
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 307 
 
 obliged to cut sheer away every alternate sentence 
 (that at least was the agreeable turn he gave to 
 the cursed excision). However, out some of it 
 came ; I was amazed that's weak I was as- 
 tonished astounded confounded. I said with 
 John Woodvill: 1 "It were a life of gods to dwell 
 in such an element :" to see, and hear, and writ& 
 l>rave things : 
 
 These high and gusty relishes of life 
 Have no allayings of mortality. 
 
 I read it, I don't know how oft and I declare to 
 you, I thought it the prettiest reading I had ever 
 read. Why should I, anonymous, flinch ? By 
 our Halidom ! I think so still ! ! 
 
 S 's conduct, in some measure, justified this 
 
 my opinion ; he said, with Bottom, " Let him roar 
 iigain, let him roar again!" And truly again (to the 
 dictation of the above-named fairy-led weaver) 
 did I aggravate my pen more gently than a suck- 
 ing dove. Fortune once more flung over me the 
 reflex warmth of her golden wings, and not above 
 one-third was abolished, Deo gratias ! (That third 
 was the lest part for all that ; I looked at it in my 
 Tough copy the other day quite a curry, credit 
 me ! though not exactly conformable to Pegge's 
 Forme of Curie.') But why this tale of Oaks, as 
 Hesiod or Homer says I forget which, if I ever 
 knew suffice it that I continued to sentimentalize 
 S , becoming aware that his friendly 
 
 [ l Lamb's Dramatic Poem.] 
 x2
 
 308 ESSAYS AND CKITIC1SMS. 
 
 purpose had taken its full effect on my mind and 
 body, began to rap me on the head, as one sees 
 a cat deal with an elderly kitten which retaineth 
 its lacteal propensities over due season. Then 
 came a blank. 
 
 Afterwards, shortly before his painful end at 
 a wretched inn on a squalid bed Poor fellow ! 
 at this moment I feel, fresh as yesterday, round 
 my neck the heart-breaking, feeble, kindly clasp of 
 his fever- wasted arm his faint whisper of entire 
 trust in my friendship (though but short) the 
 voice dropping back again the look one stronger 
 clasp ! May the peace which rested over his last 
 moments remain with him for ever ! That I stead- 
 fastly confide in such consummation, this recurrence 
 to his name will prove ; were it not for that, 
 I could not have uttered an allusion. 
 
 I must finish my involuntarily interrupted sen- 
 tence. Afterwards there was some talk of a regular 
 re-engagement, with an increase of five guineas per 
 sheet ; on what account I could never exactly dis- 
 cover (not that I tried much, to be sure it was 
 too gracilely pleasant for the harsh touch of 
 scrutiny). Elia, the whimsical, the pregnant,. 
 " the abundant joke-giving" Elia, and our Mr.. 
 Drama, the real, old, original Mr. Drama ! -par 
 nobile fratrum, spoke flatteringly of Janus shall 
 I breathe it ? as of one not absolutely inefficient,, 
 not the worst of Periodical scribblers. 
 
 You, Padrone mio ! know best how I was found 
 on your establishment ; whether my importunities 
 
 [ i Hazlitt.]
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 309 
 
 for admission overmatched your rejective faculties. 
 Proclaim then aloud now at this my literary 
 decease, that my reputation is unsrnirchecl, 
 unblemished, by any hateful scrambling after the 
 loaves and fishes : answer for me. Have / been 
 forward with MSS. ? Have / ever displayed an 
 unseemly alacrity with my quill ? Have / ever 
 been ready and forthcoming when first called on ? 
 
 The kernel of the above peroration lies, I take 
 it, in the affirmation, that not a single sentence has 
 been by me volunteered from the commencement of 
 the LONDON MAGAZINE to its present robust and 
 healthy growth. 1 
 
 This digression has pulled out half an ell longer 
 than I intended ; and tjie only thing is to get it 
 out of your head as fast as you can. Come ! take 
 a pinch of snuff and a sneeze " Heshsh hoo ! " 
 Ood bless you ! Now, what do you think of Miss 
 P. Kelly ? Not seen her ? indeed ! I was sorry to 
 see Charles Kemble (how dare any one write him 
 clown " Kemble " without the baptismal prefix, 
 while his great brother lives !) I was really 
 sorry to see Charles Kemble on the same boards. 
 Jfe carries the gentleman in every motion. He is 
 not a bit like Eomeo the young, the sentimental 
 
 1 Copy of an affidavit sworn before the late Lord Mayor : 
 
 " I, T P , Printer's Devil to the LOXDOX MAGAZINE, 
 
 voluntarily make oath, that Mr. Janus Weathercock has 
 never been ' forward with his MSS.,' and that he was never 
 * ready and forthcoming when first called on ; * but, on the 
 .contrary, that I have called on him at least six times for 
 every article."
 
 310 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Borneo, for all that. The Italian Lovers were by 
 Shakespeare steeped in poetry, the highest, the 
 most absolute poetry, till it became infused through 
 their substance past re-separation. He has com- 
 pelled and amalgamated together spirit and matter 
 into a quicksilver too slippery and subtle for the 
 mere corporeal hands of any given actor or actress. 
 
 The deep-sentient Charles Lamb hath protested 
 against the competency of theatrical means to 
 give an outward and visible representation of Lear. 
 I think, for Romeo and Juliet, that " sweet hymn 
 in praise of love ! that harmonious miracle ! " he 
 might have done as much. T 
 
 All traces of the digression are now quite 
 obliterated, I'll venture to say, judging from my- 
 self at least the fact is, I've forgotten whither 
 this letter tended I must turn to the first leaf 
 urn thirdly um um ! " Eemarks on the 
 May. and its Contribs." Very good so then,, 
 without further preamble thus rush I, like 
 Homer, Tasso, Ossian, or, to speak concisely, like- 
 all authentic epic poets of this terraqueous globe, 
 iv jjbeSias prjs, which bit of Hebrew means gentle,. 
 no, not gentle, strictly rather sweet readers, 
 into the middle of the Contributors' Club-room,. 
 
 ! I doubt, it is in some sort pedantic to 
 
 interlard and garnish one's paragraphs with strange 
 and outlandish sprigs, not personally plucked from. 
 
 1 If the reader adores Shakespeare (not the family one,, 
 nor the acted one,) he will be pleased with the elaborate 
 and poetical critique on Romeo and Juliet, translated from 
 Aug. Schlegel, in Ciller's ^Uscellany, No. I.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 311 
 
 the linguistical trees, but abstracted from the 
 sample which genuine travellers occasionally ex- 
 pose to the marvelment of the commons; by 
 which figure I imply, that a man to whom Latin 
 is Greek, and Greek Hebrew, might just as well 
 I don't know what I was going to say might just 
 as well not essay to decide the intertangled dis- 
 putes on the authenticity of Aristotle's Poetics in 
 their present state, or to supersede Dr. Burney's 
 Tentamen de Mttris sEscliyli. I confess that the 
 former member of the above sentence is not prepa- 
 rative, ad modnm ScJiolarum, to the final one. But 
 never mind ; it is the last time I shall ever cudgel 
 my brains for a meaning, or you yours to find it 
 out. There's something in that isn't there ? 
 
 Odds bobs ! lo ! another digression, I fear ; 
 which arises, like a stream from a triple fountain- 
 pipe, out of three incidents at my left hand, viz. 
 a dish of strong coffee, a plate of crisp muffins, 
 buttered to a fraction, and a glass of ruby Eosolio, 
 which is a vulgar, luscious, meretricious liqueur ! 
 (there! it's despatched). One table-spoonful of 
 Johnson's fifty-years-old pale cognac is worth a 
 case full of the sickly Italian. Now, clear away 
 these ! and don't disturb me again till the last 
 thing ! when you can just warm me up an oyster 
 pate. Call the dog away with you ! she snores, 
 deuce take her ! and puts me out. 
 
 Now, brother administrators to parochial delight 
 ye who rifle the fresh dewy (a matter-of-fact 
 fellow would substitute dank} beauties of the 
 Magazine one day before all the rest of the world,
 
 312 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 
 
 be so kind as to read the next line or two over, till 
 convinced of their rationality. 
 
 Stand not on the order of your nominations ! If 
 I had acquaintance with your names, I would say 
 my little say, and take my leave alphabetically. 
 If I had the requisite judgment, ye should be ar- 
 ranged according to style and respective eminence 
 therein ; or if my pate had the bump of calculation 
 (such a bump exists), the paginary amount of your 
 lucubrations should determine precedence. Being 
 deficient in all these requisites for a lucidus ordo, 
 I shall trust to circumstances (my usual way), and 
 esteem my disarray un beau ddsordre, as the French 
 wiseacres have dubbed the surviving lyrics of the 
 Theban Swan. 
 
 And first, then, for JOHN CLARE : for first doth 
 he stand in the sixth volume. "Princely Clare," 
 as Elia would call thee, some three hours after the 
 cloth was drawn. Alas ! good Clare, never again 
 shall thou and he engage in those high combats, 
 those wit-fights ! Never shall his companionable 
 draught cause thee an after-look of anxiety into 
 the tankard ! no more shall he, pleasantly- 
 malicious, make thy ears tingle and thy cheeks 
 glow with the sound of that perplexing con- 
 strainment, that conventional gagging-bill, that 
 Grammar, till in the bitterness of thy heart thou 
 cursedst Lindley Murray by all the stars! Not 
 once again shall thy sweetly-simple Doric phrase 
 and accent beget the odious pnn. Thou mayest 
 imbibe thy ale in peace, and defy Priscian un- 
 checked, for Priscian's champion is gone ! Elia
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 313 
 
 is gone! Little didst thou think that evening 
 would be the last, when thou and I, and two or 
 three more, Messer Brunetto, 1 Dugdale Redivivus, 
 
 T that anthery Cicero, parted with the 
 
 humanity-loving Elia beneath the chaste beams of 
 the watery moon, warmed with his hearty cheer 
 the fragrant steam of his "great plant," his 
 savoury conversation, and the genuine good- 
 nature of his cousin Bridget 2 gilding all. There 
 was something solemn in the manner of our clasp- 
 ing palms, it was first " hands round," then 
 "hands across." That same party shall never 
 meet again ! But pardon, gracious Spirit ! that I 
 thus but parenthetically memorize thee; yet a 
 few more lines shall flow to thy most embalmed 
 remembrance. Rest then awhile ! 
 
 One word at parting, John Clare ! and if a 
 strange one, as a stranger give it welcome. I 
 have known jovial nights, felt deeply the virtues 
 of the grape and the barleycorn ; I have co-oper- 
 ated in "the sweet wicked catches" 'bout the 
 chimes at twelve, yet I say to thee visit London 
 seldom, shutting close thy ears in the abounding 
 company of empty scoffers : ever holding it in thy 
 inmost soul, that love and perfect trust, not doubt, 
 is the germ of ti*ue poetry. Thy hand, friend 
 Clare ! others may speak thee fairer, but none wish 
 thee solider welfare than Janus. 
 
 [ 1 The Rev. H. F. Gary. He was also a contributor to 
 the Magazine of Lives of the Poets in continuation of 
 Johnson.] 
 
 [ 2 Miss Lamb.]
 
 314 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Near the banks of Thames dwells one like the 
 stream, placid and deep, Messer Bruuetto! Many 
 are the benefits I owe him in common with others- 
 (his opus ma jus * * * * * his elegant Memoirs, 
 replete with candour and substantial criticism, 
 his Early Trench Poets, a pleasure-plot quaintly 
 pranked, laid open for public, recreation) ; some 
 peculiar to myself his countenance and com- 
 mendation. Let me apply to him the words of an 
 author only undervalued by the dull and the pre- 
 judiced ; "No man can be a true critic or connois- 
 seur who does not possess a universality of mind, 
 who does not possess the flexibility which, throw- 
 ing aside all personal predilections and blind 
 habits, enables him to transport himself into the 
 peculiarities of other ages and nations, to feel them 
 as it were from their proper central point, and 
 what ennobles human nature, to recognize and 
 respect whatever is beautiful and grand under 
 those external modifications which are necessary 
 to their existence, and which sometimes seem even 
 to disguise them." That Messer Brunette is endowed 
 with this rare comprehensive apprehensibility can- 
 not be denied ; his translations are nearly unique 
 for closeness and felicity, both as to style and 
 expression. The poetry, however subtle, never 
 evaporates during the transfusion, neither is his 
 penetration partial, but offers fresh proofs of its 
 legitimacy in the sister art. His taste there is 
 singularly grand, pure and consistent. By the 
 bye, our critics seem hardly aware of the intimate 
 connexion, or rather of the identity, of the primal
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 315 
 
 seeds of poetry and painting; nor that any true 
 advancement in the serious study of one art co- 
 generates a proportionate perfection in the other. 
 If a man who did not feel Michel Angelo, should 
 talk of his gusto for Milton, depend upon it he 
 deceives one of two persons you or himself: so> 
 likewise vice versa. The moment you entered 
 Elia's room, you could swear to his selection 
 of authors by his selection of framed prints- 
 Leonardos and early Eaffaullos) ; and it is im- 
 possible to read Barry Cornwall without a con- 
 viction that his cored loves were Correggio, Par- 
 megiano, and Bolognian Giulio (which they are, 
 and some choice bits he has too) ; Michel, Leonardo,, 
 Rembrandt coining in only by way of relief: 
 Rubens rejected altogether. I intend these two- 
 instances as compliments. But to proceed. Hang 
 these bastard sprouts, these suckers! Before 
 quitting our Brunetto, high esteemed among the 
 magnates of poetry, I must suggest two or three 
 subjects for his pen Pindar, Petrarcha; but,, 
 perhaps, in that exquisite writer he may find 
 " thoughts that lie too deep for tears." If so, we 
 must sympathize and abandon hope. 
 
 Occhi miei oscurato e'l nostro sole 
 Anzi e salito al cielo, ed iA'i spleiide : 
 Ivi '1 vedremo anchor : ivi n'attende ; 
 E di nostro tardar forse li dole. 
 
 Morte biasmate ; anzi laudate lui ; 
 
 Che lega, e scioglie ; e'n un punto apre, e serra ;. 
 
 E dopo '1 pianto sa far lieto ultra!.
 
 316 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 There are others from whom Englished Excerpta 
 might amuse him, and delight his readers; we 
 have no specimen of an English Ariosto; Pulci 
 and Boiardo are quite unknown. Some green 
 flowers surely might be picked from the chaplets 
 of the Provencals, enumerated by Crescirnbeni 
 or he might afford the involuntarily-unlearned an 
 idea of the towering and severe .^Eschylus ! 
 
 When the spring comes, there is joy on the hills 
 of Cumberland, and life in the streams of Nithsdale ; 
 but the joy of thy smile, and the life of thy song, 
 ALLAN I 1 glow through the snow of winter, nourish 
 sappy and green amid the adust summer: 
 
 Thou murmurest near the running brooks 
 A music sweeter than their own. 
 
 Large art thou in body and soul ! Thy broad 
 brow and palm consort moss fitly. If nature 
 models her faces truly, there was never man less 
 soiled by the foul smoke of Babylon. Thy poetry 
 germinates from the divine seed love of all things 
 lovely and good. There find I set down, without 
 straining and ambitious fustian, the elements of 
 thine own mind pathos, innocent hilarity, disdain 
 of petty craft and cant, deep affections, native 
 delicacy, and a noble enthusiasm for supernatural 
 cheer. In it we see how 
 
 wilderness and wood, 
 
 Blank ocean and mere sky, support that mood, 
 Which with the lofty sanctifies the low. 
 
 [ l Allan Cunningham, who contributed largely to the 
 Magazine.]
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 3 IT 
 
 But wLat need of my lean praise ? thou hast thy 
 meed of fame; higher hands have crowned thee-" 
 with the wild-wood wreath. Farewell, pleasant 
 
 Allan C m! The last green glass, over 
 
 which we nodded to one another, was the last ! 
 Ere Christmas Day, Janus will be even as Elia.. 
 Farewell ! May thy seasons be ever smooth. 
 Health to thee and her 
 
 To whom the warble of thy lip is dearest. 
 
 Mild and tasteful BARRY CORNWALL! old brother 
 dilettante, friend of Elia ! Poet of Woman ! the 
 most grateful title to thy ears honey-tongued 
 singer of beauty and its mother-night ! 
 
 Come from out thy dreams 
 Of green Sicilian fields, 
 And blue Sicilian streams ! 
 
 Let Her smiling hair, 
 
 Untwisted, wind at length 
 
 To the wild wind's tricksome care, 
 
 while thou strikest a dying note in the hand of 
 "Weathercock. Adieu ! too sensitive friend, follow 
 thy own blooming road : be thy own mind thy 
 kingdom ; and should the envious and the hard 
 blow on thy tender flowers with their foggy breath,, 
 doubt not the advent of due guerdon. 
 
 Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil ; 
 
 Nor in the glistening foil, 
 
 Set off to the world : nor in broad rumour lies. 
 
 Relinquish not our art lest thine own in anger
 
 318 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 desert tliee. Grant me, too, one request at this 
 heavy time; drop on my grave one melodious 
 tear ; my hungry spirit " would suck up " another 
 LAST SONG 1 as rich incense. "What say you, 
 friend ? " Janus to Barry Cornwall speaks his last 
 adieu ! 
 
 I would fain address a valediction to our Mr. Table 
 Talk, 2 " that cunninge master of fens !" he that will 
 thrust you clean through the eye of a needle ; 
 who unlooses the most knotted question, " familiar 
 as my garter." By Saint Nicholas, in matters of 
 graphic art and opera dancing he is villainously 
 tieterodox ! a perilous heretic ! But I may spare 
 my flickering breath ; he reads not a word of our 
 Magazine ! ! 
 
 Young THEODORE ! 3 young in years, not in 
 power! Our new Ovid! only more imaginative! 
 Painter to the visible eye and the inward ; com- 
 mixture of what the superficial deem incon- 
 gruous elements ! Instructive living proof, how 
 close lie the founts of laughter and tears ! Thou 
 fermenting brain, oppressed as yet by its own 
 riches. Though melancholy would seem to have 
 touched thy heart with her painful (salutary) 
 liand, yet is thy fancy mercurial, undepressed, and 
 ^sparkles and crackles more from the contact, as the 
 northern lights when they near the frozen Pole. 
 
 1 See that exquisite lyric, among the minor poems at the 
 end of Marcian Colonna. (" Marcian Colonna is a dainty 
 book.") [So said Mr. Leigh Hunt.] 
 
 PHazlitt.] 
 
 3 Theodore Hook, of course.]
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 319 
 
 How ! is tlie fit not on ? Still is " Lycus " without 
 mate ! Who can mate him but thyself ! Let not 
 the shallow induce thee to conceal thy depth. 
 Leave Old Seamen; the strain thou heid'st was 
 of a higher mood ; there are others for your 
 " Sketches from Nature," (as they truly call 'em) 
 
 ****** *##* * an( j sucn snia u c | eer j As f or 
 
 thy word-gambols, thy humour, thy fautastics, thy 
 curiously-conceited perceptions of similarity in 
 dissimilarity, of coherents in incoherents, they are 
 brilliantly suave, innocuously exhilarating: but 
 not a step farther, if thou lovest thy proper peace ! 
 Read the fine of the eleventh and the whole of the 
 twelfth chapter of Tristram Shandy ; and believe 
 them, dear Theodore ! 0, most truly. For others (not 
 for thee) is the following paragraph thence quoted : 
 " Trust me, this unwary pleasantry of thine will 
 sooner or later bring thee into scrapes and diffi- 
 culties, which no afterwit can extricate thee out of. 
 In these sallies, too oft I see it happens, that 
 a person laughed at considers himself in the light 
 of a person injured, with all the rights of such 
 a situation belonging to him ; and when thou 
 viewest him in that light too, and reckonest up his 
 friends, his family, his kindred, and allies, and 
 musterest up with them the many recruits which 
 will list under him from a sense of common danger, 
 'tis no extravagant arithmetic to say, that for 
 every ten jokes, thou hast got a hundred enemies ; 
 and till thou hast gone on, and raised a swarm of 
 wasps about thine ears, and art half stung to death 
 ly them, thou wilt never be convinced it is so."
 
 320 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Let my gratitude reach thee in thy learned ease, 
 unseen IDLER, on the prerupt rocks and breezy 
 downs of woody ****** 1 1 Thou who hast taught 
 so many Greek and Eoman mouths to utter vigor- 
 ous and manly English. Some call thee rough! so> 
 did the full-styled Rubens leave his decided tints. 
 - The gay-coloured Ampelus is rich as his unctu- 
 ous pictures. Thy version of Atys 2 hath the 
 thundering force of some old anvil-clad cavalier's 
 battle charge, Maximilian, Richard the Lion, or 
 Albert the Giant. I love the ardent way in which 
 thou championest those of thy favourites, at whom 
 ignorant scorn hath wrinkled the nose ! 'Tis a rare 
 vice now-a-days, more pity ! My bidding hath been 
 potent on thy sprites ere now : again I essay ! I call 
 on Apollonius ! see that he answer not in rhyme. 
 
 But ELIA'S ghost is impatient. 
 
 Yet what I can say of thee more than all know ? 
 that thou liadst the gaiety of a boy, with the know- 
 ledge of a man; as gentle a heart as ever sent 
 tears to the eyes. Marry ! the black bile would 
 sometimes slip over his tongue's tip ; then would 
 he spit it out, and look more sweetly for the 
 riddance. How wittily would he mistake your 
 meaning, and put in a conceit most seasonably out 
 of season ! His talk without affectation was com- 
 pressed, like his beloved Elizabethans, even unto 
 obscurity ; like grains of fine gold, his sentences 
 would beat out into whole sheets. I say " without 
 
 [ 1 Probably Charles Abraham Elton, editor of Specimens 
 of the Classic Poets, 1814.] 
 2 Privately printed.
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 321 
 
 affectation," for lie was not the blind-brained man 
 to censure in others his own vice. Truly " with- 
 out affectation," for nothing rubbed him the wrong- 
 way so much as pretence ; then the sparks flew 
 about! Yet, though he would strip and whip 
 soundly such beggars in velvet rags, the thong 
 never flew in the face of a wise moderation to do 
 her any hurt. l He had small mercy on spurious 
 fame ; and a caustic observation on the fashion for 
 men of geniiis (vulgarly so termed) was a standing 
 dish. He contended that several of our minor 
 talents, who now emulate Byron, Coleridge and the 
 old Dramatists, had, fifty years ago, rested con- 
 tented satellites to old Sylvanus Urban tranquil 
 imitators of Johnson and Goldsmith. One of these 
 flaunting, arrogant ephemera was particularly odious 
 to him (in one species of his scribbling he resem- 
 bleth a gilt chimney-sweeper, in another a blow-fly ; 
 this is my remark). Sometimes would he defame 
 " after a sort " his printed (not painted) mistresses. 
 
 As perplexed lovers use 
 
 At a need, when in despair 
 
 To paint forth their fairest fail 1 ; 
 
 Or in part but to express 
 
 That exceeding comeliness 
 
 Which their fancies doth so strike, 
 
 They borrow language of dislike. 
 
 no other way they know 
 
 A contentment to express, 
 Borders so upon excess, 
 That they do not rightly wot 
 Whether it be pain or not. 
 
 Fareicell to Tobacco. 
 
 1 Somewhere in Fuller. 
 Y
 
 322 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 Sir Thomas Brown was a "bosom cronie" of 
 his so was Burton, and old Fuller. In his 
 amorous vein he dallied with that peerless Duchess 
 of many-folio odour ; and with the hey-day come- 
 dies of Beaumont and Fletcher he induced light 
 dreams. He would deliver critical touches on 
 these, like one inspired ; but it was good to let him 
 choose his own game ; if another began, even on 
 the acknowledged pets, he was liable to interrupt 
 or rather append, in a mode difficult to define, 
 whether as misapprehensive or mischievous. One 
 
 night, at C 's, the above dramatic partners 
 
 were the temporary subject of chat ! Mr. * * * 
 commended the passion and haughty style of a 
 tragedy (I don't know which of them), but was 
 instantly taken up by Elia ; who told him, " That 
 was nothing, the lyrics were the high things the 
 lyrics !" and so having stricken * * * with some 
 amaze he concluded with a brief intense eulogy 
 on the "Little Thief!" 
 
 He had likewise two perversities a dislike to 
 all German literature, by which language he was, 
 I believe, scrupulously intact : the other was a 
 most vehement assertion of equality between 
 Harington and Fairfax, as translators. Venial 
 aberrations ! I know of no others. 
 
 His death was somewhat sudden ; yet he was 
 not without wormy forebodings. Some of these he 
 expressed, as you may recollect, Dear Proprietor ! 
 
 at your hospitable table, the of last . I 
 
 accompanied him home at rather an early hour in 
 the morning, and being benignantly invited to enter,
 
 ESSAYS AND CKITICISMS. 323 
 
 I entered. His smoking materials were ready on 
 the table. I cannot smoke, and therefore, during 
 the exhaustion of a pipe, I soothed my nerves with 
 a single tumbler of * * * and water. He recurred 
 several times to his sensation of approaching death, 
 not gloomily but as of a retirement from business, 
 a pleasant journey to a sunnier climate. The 
 serene solemnity of his voice overcame me; the 
 tears poured thick from their well-heads ; I tried 
 to rally myself and him ; but my throat swelled, 
 and stopped my words. 
 
 His pipe had gone out ; he held it to the flame 
 of the candle ; but in vain. 
 
 It was empty ! His mind had been wandering. 
 He smiled placidly, and knocked out the ashes: 
 " Even so silently," said he, " may my fiery spark 
 steal from its vehicle of ashes and clay ! " 
 
 I felt oppressed. Many things had contributed 
 lately to break and daunt my once elastic spirits. 
 I rose to go : he shook me by the hand, neither 
 of us spoke : with that I went my way and I 
 saw him no more ! 
 
 How much is lost to this miserable world, 
 which knew him not while it possessed him ! I 
 
 knew him I, who am left to weep, Eheu ! 
 
 Eliam! Vale! 
 
 GOOD NIGHT TO ALL. l 
 
 * * ******** 
 
 1 Janus was here taken too sick-hearted to proceed. He 
 
 is now [Ec. L. M.] 
 
 Y2
 
 324 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 A CHARACTER OF THE LATE ELIA. 1 
 
 BY A FRIEND. 
 
 THIS gentleman, who for some months past had 
 been in a declining way, hath at length paid his 
 final tribute to nature. He just lived long enougli 
 (it was what he wished) to see his papers collected 
 into a volume. The pages of the London Maga- 
 zine will henceforth know him no more. 
 
 Exactly at twelve last night his queer spirit 
 departed, and the bells of Saint Bride's rang him 
 out with the old year. The mournful vibrations 
 were caught in the dining room of lu's friends T. 
 and H. ; and the company, assembled there to wel- 
 come in another First of January, checked their 
 carousals in mid-mirth, and were silent. Janus 
 wept. The gentle P[rocte]r, in a whisper, signified 
 his intention of devoting an Elegy ; and Allan 
 C[unnmgham], nobly forgetful of his country- 
 men's wrongs, vowed a Memoir to his manes, full 
 and friendly as a Tale of Lyddalcross. 
 
 To say truth, it is time he were gone. The 
 humour of the thing, if there was ever much in it, 
 was pretty well exhausted ; and a two years' and 
 
 [ l London Magazine, January, 1823. I insert this paper 
 here in consequence of a suggestion from the Editor of 
 the Magazine elsewhere that it was written by Waine- 
 wright]
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 325 
 
 a half existence lias been a tolerable duration for 
 a phantom. 
 
 I am now at liberty to confess, that much which 
 I have heard objected to my late friend's writings 
 was well-founded. Crude they are, I grant you 
 a sort of unlicked, incondite things villainously 
 pranked in an affected array of antique modes and 
 phrases. They had not been his, if they had been 
 other than such ; and better it is, that a writer 
 should be natural in a self-pleasing quaintness, 
 than to affect a naturalness (so called) that should 
 be strange to him. Egotistical they have been 
 pronounced by some who did not know, that what 
 he tells us, as of himself, was often true only (his- 
 torically) of another ; as in his Fourth Essay (to 
 save many instances), where under the first per- 
 son (his favourite figure) he shadows forth the 
 forlorn estate of a country-boy placed at a London 
 school, far from his friends and connections in 
 direct opposition to his own early history. If it 
 be egotism to imply and twine with his own iden- 
 tity the griefs and affections of another : making 
 himself many, or reducing many unto himself, 
 then is the skilful novelist, who all along brings 
 in his hero or heroine, speaking of themselves, 
 the greatest egotist of all; who yet has never, 
 therefore, been accused of that narrowness. And 
 how shall the intenser dramatist escape being 
 faulty, who, doubtless under cover of passion 
 uttered by another, oftentimes gives blameless vent 
 to his most inward feelings, and expresses his own 
 story modestly?
 
 326 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 My late friend was in many respects a singular 
 character. Those who did not like him, hated 
 him ; and some, who once liked him, afterwards 
 became his bitterest haters. The truth is, he gave 
 himself too little concern what he uttered, and in 
 whose presence. He observed neither time nor 
 place, and would e'en out with what came upper- 
 most. With the severe religionist he would pass 
 for a free-thinker ; while the other faction set him 
 down for a bigot, or persuaded themselves that he 
 belied his sentiments. Few understood him ; and 
 I am not certain that at all times he quite under- 
 stood himself. He too much affected that danger- 
 ous figure irony. He sowed doubtful speeches, 
 and reaped plain, unequivocal hatred. He would 
 interrupt the gravest discussion with some light 
 jest ; and yet, perhaps, not quite irrelevant in 
 ears that could understand it. Your long and 
 much talkers hated him. The informal habit of 
 his mind, joined to an inveterate impediment of 
 speech, forbade him to be an orator ; and he 
 seemed determined that no one else should play 
 that pavt when he was present. He was petit and 
 ordinary in his person and appearance. I have 
 seen him sometimes in what is called good com- 
 pany, but where he has been a stranger, sit silent, 
 and be suspected for an odd fellow ; till, some 
 unlucky occasion provoking it, he would stutter 
 out some senseless pun (not altogether senseless 
 perhaps, if rightly taken), which has stamped his 
 character for the evening. It was hit or miss with 
 him ; but, nine times out of ten, he contrived by
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 327 
 
 this device to send away a whole company his 
 enemies. His conceptions rose kindlier than his 
 utterance, and his happiest impromptus had the 
 appearance of effort. He has been accused of 
 tiying to be witty, when in truth he was but 
 struggling to give Ms poor thoughts articulation. 
 He chose his companions for some individuality 
 of character which they manifested. Hence not 
 many persons of science, and few professed literati, 
 were of his councils. They were, for the most 
 part, persons of an uncertain fortune ; and, as to 
 such people commonly nothing is more obnoxious 
 than a gentleman of settled (though moderate) in- 
 come, he passed with most of them for a great 
 miser. To my knowledge this was a mistake. 
 His intimados, to confess a truth, were in the 
 world's eye a ragged regiment. He found them 
 floating on the surface of society ; and the colour, 
 or something else, in the weed pleased him. The 
 burrs stuck to him but they were good and loving 
 burrs for all that. He never greatly cared for the 
 society of what are called good people. If any of 
 these were scandalised (and offences were sure to 
 arise), he could not help it. When he has been 
 remonstrated with for not making more conces- 
 sions to the feelings of good people, he would 
 retort by asking, what one point did these good 
 people ever concede to him ? He was temperate 
 in his meals and diversions, but always kept a 
 little on this side of abstemiousness. Only in the 
 use of the Indian weed he might be thought a 
 little excessive. He took it, he would say, as a
 
 328 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 solvent of speech. Marry, as the friendly vapour 
 ascended, how his prattle would curl up sometimes 
 with it ! the ligaments, which tongue-tied him, 
 were loosened, and the stammerer proceeded a 
 statist ! 
 
 I do not know whether I ought to bemoan or 
 rejoice that my old friend is departed. His jests 
 were beginning to grow obsolete, and his stories 
 to be found out. He felt the approaches of age ; 
 and while he pretended to cling to life, you saw 
 how slender were the ties left to bind him. Dis- 
 coursing with him latterly on this subject, he ex- 
 pressed himself with a pettishness, which I thought 
 unworthy of him. In our walks about his suburban 
 retreat (as he called it) at Shacklewell, some chil- 
 dren belonging to a school of industry had met us, 
 and bowed and curtseyed, as he thought, in an es- 
 pecial manner to him. " They take me for a visit- 
 ing governor," he muttered earnestly. He had a hor- 
 ror, which he carried to a foible, of looking important 
 and parochial. He thought that he approached 
 nearer to that stamp daily. He had a general 
 aversion from being treated like a grave or respect- 
 able character, and kept -a wary eye upon the ad- 
 vances of age that should so entitle him. He 
 herded always, while it was possible, with people 
 younger than himself. He did not conform to the 
 march of time, but was dragged along in the pro- 
 cession. His manners lagged behind his years. 
 He was too much of the boy-man. The toga 
 mrilis never sat gracefully on his shoulders. The 
 impressions of infancy had burnt into him, and he
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 329 
 
 resented the impertinence of manhood. These 
 were weaknesses ; but, such as they were, they are 
 a key to explicate some of his writings. 
 
 He left little property behind him. Of course, 
 the little that is left (chiefly in India bonds) de- 
 volves upon his cousin Bridget. A few critical 
 dissertations were found in his escrutoire, which 
 have been handed over to the Editor of this 
 Magazine, in which it is to be hoped they will 
 shortly appear, retaining his accustomed signa- 
 ture. 
 
 He has himself not obscurely hinted that his 
 employment lay in a public office. The gentle- 
 men in the Export department of the East India 
 House will forgive me, if I acknowledge the 
 readiness with which they assisted me in the re- 
 trieval of his few manuscripts. They pointed out 
 in a most obliging manner the desk, at which he 
 had been planted for forty years ; showed me pon- 
 derous tomes of figures in his own remarkably 
 neat hand, which, more properly than his few 
 printed tracts, might be called his "Works." 
 They seemed affectionate to his memory, and 
 universally commended his expertness in book- 
 keeping. It seems he was the inventor of some 
 ledger, which should combine the precision and 
 certainty of the Italian double-entry (I think they 
 called it) with the brevity and facility of some 
 newer German system; but I am not able to 
 appreciate the wortli of the discovery. I have 
 often heard him express a warm regard for his 
 associates in office, and how fortunate he con-
 
 330 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 
 
 sidered himself in having his lot thrown in 
 amongst them. " There is more sense, more dis- 
 course, more shrewdness, and even talent, among 
 these clerks (he would say) than in twice the 
 number of authors by profession that I have con- 
 versed with." He would brighten up sometimes 
 upon the "old days of the India House/' when 
 he consorted with Woodroffe and Wissett, and 
 Peter Corbet (a descendant and worthy repre- 
 sentative, bating the point of sanctity, of old 
 facetious bishop Corbet), and Hoole who transla- 
 ted Tasso, and Bartlemy Brown whose father 
 (God assoil him therefore) modernized Walton 
 and sly warm-hearted old Jack Cole (King Cole 
 they called him in those days), and Campe, and 
 Fombelle ; and a world of choice spirits, more 
 than I can remember to name, who associated in 
 those days with Jack Burrell (the Ion mvant of 
 the South Sea House), and little Eyton (said to be 
 a fac simile of Pope he was a miniature of a 
 gentleman) that was cashier under him, and Dan 
 Voigt of the Custom House that left the famous 
 library. 
 
 Well, Elia is gone for aught I know, to be 
 reunited with them and these poor traces of his 
 pen are all we have to show for it. How lit- 
 tle survives of the wordiest authors ! Of all they 
 said or did in their lifetime, a few glittering words 
 only ! His Essays found some favourers, as they 
 appeared separately ; they shuffled their way in 
 the crowd well enough singly ; how they will read, 
 now they are brought together, is a question for
 
 ESSAYS AND CEITICISMS. 331 
 
 the publishers, who have thus ventured to draw 
 out into one piece his " weaved-up follies." 
 
 PHIL-ELIA. 
 
 [Elia is not dead ! We thought as much, and even 
 hinted our thought in the number for January. The fol- 
 lowing letter declaring Elia's existence is in his own hand- 
 writing, and was left by his own hand. We never saw a 
 man so extremely alive, as he was, to the injury done him: 
 
 " Elia returns his thanks to the facetious Janus Weather- 
 cock who, during his late unavoidable excursion to the 
 Isles of Sark, Guernsey and Jersey, took advantage of his 
 absence to plot a sham account of his death, and to impose 
 upon the town a posthumous Essay signed by his Ghost ; 
 Avhich how like it is to any of the undoubted Essays of 
 the author, may be seen by comparing it with his volume 
 just published. One or two former papers, with his signa- 
 ture, which are not reprinted in the volume, he has reason 
 to believe were pleasant forgeries by the same ingenious 
 hand." Editor L. M., Feb. 1823. The paper signed by 
 Elia's Ghost is included, however, in "The Last Essays of 
 Elia," 1833, which appeared during Lamb's lifetime ; and 
 to that volume is attached, as a preface, an abridged text of 
 " A Character of the late Elia." The latter has a strong 
 smack of Lamb's peculiar style ; but, on the other hand, 
 it agrees much in (manner with the concluding portion of 
 Wainewright's undoubted paper, " Janus Weatherbound."]
 
 332 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 
 
 THE ESSENCE OF OPERA. 1 
 
 IMOGENE ET ALMANZOR. 
 
 Sujet de cet Opera. 
 
 Un jeune Prince Americain 
 
 Adore une jeune Princesse ; 
 
 Cet Amant, qui perit au milieu de la piece, 
 
 Par le secours d'un Dieu ressuscite a la fin. 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 Un Musicien. 
 
 Peuples, entrez ; que Ton s'avance. 
 
 (Aux chanteurs.) 
 Vous, tachez de prendre le temps. 
 
 (Aux danseurs) 
 
 Vous, le jarret tendu, partez Wen en cadence. 
 Celebrons le bonheur des fideles amans ! 
 
 ACTE I. 
 
 Imogene. Cher Prince, on nous unit ! 
 Almanzor. J'en suis ravis, Princesse. 
 
 1 [London Magazine, Feb. 1826 This queer little scrap 
 is signed Janus."]
 
 ESSAYS AND CRITICISMS. 333 
 
 Lcs Deux. Peuples, chantez, dansez, montrez 
 
 votre alegresse ! 
 Le Chceur. Chantons, dansons, raontrons notre 
 
 alesresse ! 
 
 ACTE n. 
 
 Imoyene. Amour ! Tumulte de guerre. Le Prince paniit, 
 poursuivi par ses Ennemis. 
 
 Combat. La Princesse s'evanouit. Le Prince est tue.) Cher 
 Prince ! 
 
 Almanzor. Helas ! 
 Imoyene. Quoi ! 
 Almanzor. J'expire. 
 Imoyene. Oh, malheur ! 
 
 Peuples, chantez, dansez, montrez votre 
 
 douleur! 
 
 Le Chc&ur. Chantons, dansons, montrons notre 
 douleur ! 
 
 ACTE III. 
 
 (Pallas dans un nuage. A Almanzor.) 
 Pallas te rend le jour ! 
 
 Imoyene. Ah! quel moment! 
 
 Almanzor, Ou suis-je ? 
 
 Les Trois. Peuples, chantez, dansez, celebrez ce 
 
 prodige ! 
 Lc CJioeur. Chantons, dansons, montrons ce 
 
 prodige !
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 [No. 1.] 
 
 WILL OF DR. EALPH GRIFFITHS, JUNE 7, 1803, 
 extracted from the Principal Registry of the Probate 
 Divorce and Admiralty Division of the High Court 
 of Justice. 
 
 IN THE PREROGATIVE COURT OF CANTERBURY. 
 
 THIS IS THE LAST WILL and TESTAMENT of 
 me RALPH GRIFFITHS of Turnham Green in the 
 County of Middlesex Doctor of Laws Whereas on the 
 marriage of my late daughter Ann Griffiths with the late 
 Thomas Wainewright Esquire I advanced a certain sum of 
 money and covenanted that after my death a further sum 
 should be paid by my personal representatives as a mar- 
 riage portion for my said daughter and whereas my grand- 
 son Thomas Wainewright 1 is become entitled to such pro- 
 perty so advanced by me to his mother my will is that 
 neither he the said Thomas Wainewright nor his trustees for 
 him shall demand any farther sum out of my estate as I 
 hereby declare that the sum already paid with that which 
 is covenanted to be paid is all that I intend for my said 
 grandson And with regard to all the rest and residue of 
 my estate and effects of what kind or nature soever it is my 
 
 1 [i.e., Thomas Griffiths Wainewright.]
 
 336 APPENDIX. 
 
 will and intention that the same should be divided accord- 
 ing to the statute for the distributions between my wife 
 and my son George Edward Griffiths and that I should die 
 intestate save and except as to what I have declared regard- 
 ing my said grandson Thomas Wainewright In witness 
 whereof I have hereunto set my hand and seal this seventh 
 day of June in the year of our Lord one thousand eight 
 hundred and three. R. GRIFFITHS [L.S.] Signed 
 sealed and delivered by the within-named Ralph Griffiths 
 in the presence of Samuel Rose of Lincoln's Inn Bar- 
 rister-at-Law 
 
 24th Dec., 1803. 
 
 APPEARED PERSONALLY The Reverend CHRIS- 
 TOPHER LAKE MOODY of Turnham Green in the 
 Parish of Chiswick in the County of Middlesex Clerk 
 Doctor of Laws and made oath that he knew and was well 
 acquainted with Ralph Griffiths late of Turnham Green 
 in the County of Middlesex Doctor of Laws deceased for 
 many years before and to the time of his death and during 
 such his acquaintance with him hath often seen him write 
 and subscribe his names to writings and is thereby become 
 well acquainted with his manner of and character of hand- 
 writing and subscription and having now carefully in- 
 spected the name " R. Griffiths " appearing subscribed to 
 the paper writing hereunto annexed purporting to be the 
 last Will and Testament of the said deceased the said Will 
 beginning thus "This is the last Will and Testament of me 
 Ralph Griffiths of 'Turnham Green in the County of Middle- 
 sex Doctor of Laws " and ending thus " In witness whereof 
 I have hereunto set my hand and seal this seventh day of 
 June in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred 
 and three " This Deponent saith he verily and in his con- 
 science believes the name " R. Griffiths " so appearing set to 
 the said paper writing to be of the proper handwriting and 
 subscription of the said Ralph Griffiths Doctor of Laws 
 deceased C. L. MOODY same day the said Chris- 
 topher Lake Moody Doctor of Laws was duly sworn to the 
 truth of this Affidavit before me S. PARSON Surrogate 
 Pst Edwd. Toller N.P.
 
 APPENDIX. 337 
 
 ON the twenty-ninth day of November in the year of 
 our Lord one thousand eight hundred and three Admon 
 (with the Will annexed) of all and singular the goods 
 chattels and credits of Ralph Griffiths late of Turnham 
 Green in the County of Middlesex Doctor of Laws deceased 
 was granted to George Edward Griffiths Esquire the natural 
 and lawful son of the said deceased having been first sworn 
 duly to administer No Executor being named in the said 
 Will. 
 
 [No. 2.] 
 
 The Two Test Trials in the Court of Exchequer, 
 June 29 and December 3, 1835, for the 
 recovery of the assurances for 18,000. 
 
 (From the Times, June 30, 1835.) 
 
 COURT OF EXCHEQUER, WESTMINSTER. 
 
 (JUNE 29TH.) 
 
 (Before LORD ABINGER and a Special Jury.) 
 WAINEWRIGHT v. BLAND and Others. 
 
 This was an action by Thomas Griffiths Wainewright, 
 executor of Miss Helen Frances Phoebe Abercromby de- 
 ceased, against Michael Bland, Grant Allan, and Cornelius 
 Butter, Directors of the Imperial Insurance Company, to 
 recover .3,000 upon a policy dated Oct. 22nd, 1830, 
 effected for two years upon the life of Miss Abercromby. 
 The defendants pleaded the general issue to the Plaintiffs 
 declaration, which was filed before the new rules came into 
 operation. 
 
 Mr. ERLE, Sir WILLIAM FOLLETT, and Mr. HENDERSON, 
 were for the plaintiff ; and the ATTORNEY-GENERAL, Sir 
 z
 
 338 APPENDIX. 
 
 F. POLLOCK, Mr. THESIGEE, and Mr. KOBINSON, for the 
 defendants. 
 
 Mr. HENDERSON having opened the pleadings, 
 
 Mr. ERLE said, the nominal plaintiff had no interest in 
 the case, the real plaintiff and party interested was Mrs. 
 
 W formerly Miss Madeline Abercromby, the sister 
 
 of the deceased, to whom Miss Abercromby had left all her 
 property by her will, in which the plaintiff as executor was 
 only concerned as trustee. The delay in bringing the 
 action had arisen from the defendant's having taken pro- 
 ceedings in Chancery. The policy was for 3,000 effected 
 in October, 1830. Miss Abercromby lived at that time 
 with the plaintiff and his wife, who was her sister. They 
 came to town on the 12th of December, 1830, and took 
 lodgings at the house of Mr. Nichols, a tailor in Conduit- 
 street. Shortly after the plaintiff and ladies went to the 
 theatre and walked home. The weather was very severe, 
 and Miss Abercromby got wet in her feet. She ate some 
 oysters for supper that night, and was taken very ill in the 
 morning. Dr. Locock was called in, and she was after- 
 wards cupped ; other medical assistants came in, but she 
 died in a few days in a convulsion. Dr. Locock saw her a 
 short time before her death ; he opened her mouth after- 
 wards and found an effusion of water on the basis of the 
 brain, which was sufficient to account for her death. The 
 stomach was afterwards examined, but presented no indica- 
 tion of any disease. 
 
 Mr. INGALL : Was actuary of the Imperial Insurance 
 Office. Was attesting witness to the signature of the 
 policy, which he proved. (The policy was then put in and 
 read.) 
 
 Cross-examined by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL : Mis 
 Abercromby came to the office on the 14th of October, 
 1830. Witness told her he presumed her object was to 
 secure property she would come into possession of at the 
 end of two years. Mrs. Wainewright, who came with her, 
 said, " Not exactly so, it was to secure money to her sister 
 in the event of her death, which she would be able to do by 
 other means if she outlived that term ; but added, she did 
 not know much of her affairs, but witness had better speak.
 
 APPENDIX. 339 
 
 to her upon it." Miss Abercromby said, " That is the case." 
 Witness asked if she had proposed an insurance to any 
 other office. She answered that she wished to insure 
 .5,000 altogether, but his (witness) office would only insure 
 .3,000, and she should propose ,2,000 to some other office. 
 Miss Abercromby came again on the 22nd of October, and 
 paid the premium. Witness said, " I believe, Miss Aber- 
 cromby, you told me when you were here you had not pro- 
 posed insurances anywhere else." She said, " I told you I 
 wished to propose 2,000 at another office." Witness said, 
 " You led us to suppose that was all you meant, and I am. 
 instructed by the directors to say that they are very much 
 displeased." She said, " I know very little of the business 
 myself. I do as my friends direct me." Witness said he 
 ascertained that she had insured for ,5,000 at another 
 office, and had made a proposal to another, which had been, 
 declined, and I was anxious to know what insurances had 
 been effected ; it was material with a view to judge 
 whether the directors would effect the policy. She ap- 
 peared very much agitated. The premium was ,44, h^d it 
 been for life it would have been 66. 
 
 Sarah Handcocks, servant to Mrs. Wheatley, was servant 
 of plaintiff ; plaintiff and wife came to Conduit-street with 
 the two Misses Abercromby in 1830. The two Misses 
 Abercromby went to the theatre two nights following. 
 They walked home. Upon the second day the weather was 
 wet and very cold. They took supper both nights oysters 
 and .ale one night and lobsters the other night. Miss 
 Abercromby complained in the morning of having taken 
 cold. She got up to dinner. Mrs. Wainewright and Miss 
 Madeline continued with her all day. Could not tell when 
 Dr. Locock was first sent for. Something, a draught for a 
 cold, was given to her before the doctor came. Dr. Locock 
 attended every day until her death. Witness was pretty 
 constantly with her. She died on the 21st of December. 
 In the morning of that day she was considered better. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Wainewright went out. After Dr. Locock had 
 been witness came into the room and found her lying quiet. 
 She said she thought she heard a little boy coming along 
 the room, and that he ought not to be there, and she burst 
 z2
 
 340 APPENDIX. 
 
 into tears, and convulsions came on. No boy had been in 
 the room. She had had wanderings, but not that morning. 
 Witness sent for Messrs. King and Nicholson, apothecaries. 
 Mr. Hanks came and saw her in. the convulsion fit. She 
 had said to Dr. Locock, " Doctor, I was gone to heaven, but 
 you have brought me back to earth." Hanks gave some 
 medicines while Dr. Locock was there. The convulsions 
 got better, and they went away. Soon after they were 
 gone the convulsions came on again and she died. It was 
 on Tuesday, the 21st of December, 1830. She lay ill seven 
 days. 
 
 Cross-examined. Witness was servant four years with 
 plaintiff, and twenty years with his uncle Mr. Griffiths. 
 Knew plaintiff since he was five years old. His uncle died 
 in 1829. Plaintiff was on a visit to his uncle when he 
 married. Miss Abercromby's mother died a year after Mr. 
 Griffiths. She came to Mrs. Wainewright on a visit, and 
 died there. Plaintiff went abroad. Had not seen him 
 since 1831. Miss Abercromby vomited violently on the 
 Saturday, Sunday, and Monday night, before her death. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wainewright went out after she was consi- 
 dered better, and did not return until after she was dead. 
 Her wages were never regularly paid, and about 2 or 3 
 was still due to her ; there was a oailiff in the house when 
 she left. 
 
 HARRIET GRATTAN, another servant, came with plaintiff 
 and family from his house, Lindon House, Turnham Green, 
 to town. The night before Miss Abercromby was taken 
 ill she ate oysters for supper ; saw her the next day on a 
 sofa shivering and cold, and complaining of sickness ; saw 
 her the day she died. Dr. Locock was called in the second 
 day of her illness. 
 
 Cross-examined. On the day she died Mrs. Wainewright 
 igave her medicine. That was about twelve o'clock. Mrs. 
 Wainewright went out immediately after. At two o'clock 
 Miss Abercromby was taken violently ill with convulsions, 
 appeared in great pain, and struggled a great deal. Dr. 
 Locock came, the fit had then subsided. She said, " Oh, 
 doctor, I am dying ; I feel I am I am sure so." The 
 doctor said, " You'll be better by-and-bye." Witness said
 
 APPBNDIX. 341 
 
 her mother died in the same way. She said " Yes, my poor 
 mother ! oh, my poor mother ! Dr. Locock left, and she 
 had a fit and grasped witness's hand. Witness had not re- 
 ceived all her wages. 
 
 Mrs. NICHOL. Was landlady of the house in Conduit- 
 street. Let her apartments in December, 1830, to plaintiff 
 and family. They went twice to the theatre, on Monday 
 and Tuesday preceding her death. 
 
 Cross-examined. When she first saw Miss Abercromby 
 on a Friday she appeared a remarkably healthy, blooming 
 young woman. 
 
 Dr. LOCOCK. Was called in on Thursday, the 16th of 
 December. Knew Plaintiff and had seen Miss Abercromby 
 before, when she came for a certificate that she might 
 insure her life. When he was called in he found her 
 sitting in her bed-room, complaining of great headache, a 
 weight over her eyes, and partial blindness. She had a full, 
 labouring pulse, and shooting pains about the head. She 
 said she was taken ill the preceding morning from having 
 got wet in her feet on Tuesday night. She had supped 
 that night on oysters and bottled porter, both on the 
 Monday and Tuesday night, after being at the play. On 
 the Tuesday night she complained, but on being pressed, 
 sat down and made a hearty supper, and in the course of 
 that night had a bad restless headache, and was violently 
 sick. Plaintiff then told witness that he had sent out to a 
 chymist for a black dose, which she had taken. Witness 
 prescribed calomel followed by senna, until the bowels 
 should freely act. He called next morning, and found the 
 head was not relieved, and ordered cupping. It relieved 
 the head for a time, but the pulse became feverish. Then 
 witness ordered medicine to abate the feverish action 
 tartar emetic. It produced violent vomiting. On Sunday 
 she recovered her eyesight, and the feverish symptom 
 abated, and witness allowed her broth. On Monday he 
 found she had passed a very restless hysterical night, a nd 
 was easily agitated. He ordered a sedative medicine 
 camphor. Witness asked Mrs. Wainewright for informa- 
 tion. On Tuesday morning she was considerably better, 
 but still easily excited, but her pulse was agitated. He
 
 342 APPENDIX. 
 
 begged she might be kept quiet, and the child kept out of 
 the room. She asked if she might have some meat ? 
 Witness said, " Yes, if you are better to-morrow." She was 
 to continue her medicine a camphor pill. She then 
 asked for a cup of coffee. Witness went away, and was 
 sent for between two and three. Several were in the 
 room, and she was in convulsions resembling those 
 which were the effect of a wound, and was hysterical. She 
 was quite sensible ; she said she was sure she would die, 
 and she went off into convulsions. Witness suggested some 
 alteration of Mr. Ash's medicines, which were anti-spas- 
 modic. Witness then went away, and returned at four, and 
 she was then just dead. Met plaintiff at the door as he 
 was going out and told him. He appeared much shocked 
 and astonished, as he had left her much better than she 
 was the night before, and asked what was the cause of her 
 death ] Witness replied, " Mischief in the brain," and pro- 
 posed to examine the brain, to which he immediately 
 assented. On the next day the brain was opened by Hanks, 
 and they found what witness believed was a quite sufficient 
 cause of death a considerable quantity of water on the 
 lower part of the brain, pressing upon the upper part of the 
 spinal marrow. The vesicles of the brain were loaded, the 
 blood-vessels of some part of the substance of the brain 
 were loaded. Witness thought the effusion caused the con- 
 vulsion, and that that caused death. The oysters had been 
 the cause. Oysters had produced similar effects upon 
 irritable constitutions. Wet feet would render the consti- 
 tution weak and irritable. There was a further examina- 
 tion two days afterwards, at the desire of Mr. Graham, a 
 surgeon, of the stomach. The contents of the stomach were 
 taken out, put into a bottle, and given into Mr. Graham's 
 charge. They were minutely examined. There was no 
 appearance of anything sufficient to account for death. A 
 few points in which the blood-vessels were much more 
 injected with blood than usual, an appearance often seen 
 in those who die suddenly. Violent vomiting would 
 account for it. 
 
 Cross-examined. Did not apply a lens. Observed a few 
 little specks under the coat of the stomach, but whether
 
 APPENDIX. 343 
 
 extravasated or not he could not say. The majority of 
 vegetable poisons leave no trace at all. There was great 
 sympathy between the stomach and the brain, and it was 
 not easy to decide in the beginning of a complaint whether 
 the stomach or the brain was the first cause. Action of the 
 stomach would not produce effusion of the brain. Violent 
 vomiting might. When witness left in the morning of 
 Tuesday he did not suppose any danger. Did not recollect 
 that he prescribed any powder. The tartar emetic was in 
 solution, the calomel in pills, senna and salts in draughts ; 
 the camphor might have been a powder, but he did not 
 think it was. Pressure on the brain frequently produced 
 coma. Witness received his fees from plaintiff. Did not 
 suppose plaintiff was in a state of pecuniary distress. 
 
 The ATTORNEY-GENERAL, for the defendants, said they 
 would but ill-discharge their duty to the public if, in a case 
 so full of mystery and suspicion, they had paid the policy 
 without the fullest investigation whether the party whose 
 life was insured had come to her death by the visitation of 
 God. Miss Abercromby and her sister Madeline, then 
 Mrs. Wheatley, were the daughters of Lieutenant Aber- 
 cromby, who died in 18J2 without leaving a shilling in the 
 world to save them from the workhouse. They lived with 
 their mother at Mortlake. She was quite unable to support 
 them, and a petition was made to the Board of Ordnance, 
 who allowed the daughters 10 a-year until they came of 
 age, and that was all they had to depend upon ; they had 
 no other property, or expectations of property. In 1830 
 Miss Abercromby came of age quite destitute, for her 
 mother died in August, 1829. She petitioned and 
 obtained a continuance of the 10 pension from the Board 
 of Ordnance. Her sister Madeline was precisely in the 
 same state. They were living with the plaintiff at London 
 House, Turnham Green. The plaintiff was reduced to 
 .great difficulties in 1830. He had given a warrant of 
 attorney to a creditor (Mr. Sharpus) for .610, and had 
 executed a bill of sale of all his effects ; and he was 
 entirely destitute of all pecuniary resources, except what he 
 had raised by means of a loan. Such was his condition 
 when he began the system of insuring Miss Abercromby's
 
 344 APPENDIX. 
 
 life. There was no reasonable object in her desiring to 
 insure her life. But insuring for two years there was less 
 premium to pay than if the insurance was effected for the 
 whole life. It would hardly be believed that the plaintiff 
 had prevailed upon Miss Abercromby to insure her life at 
 different offices, which she had done to the amount of 
 .16,000, and that she had attempted to insure in others to 
 the amount of ,14,000, but the policies were rejected. She 
 had no money to pay the premium. The money was sup- 
 plied by the plaintiff out of a loan, and on two occasions 
 the notes could be traced. The plaintiff or Mrs. Waine- 
 wright always went with her. The Attorney-General then 
 detailed insurance on her life for two years, and on one 
 occasion for three years, effected in the Imperial, Hope, 
 Palladium, Pelican, and Eagle, for 16,000 in the whole, 
 and mentioned the Alliance, and other offices, who refused 
 the offer. The probate of her will was sworn under 
 18,000. She made a will in favour of the plaintiff, and 
 assigned to him, for 19 19s. each, two of the policies. She 
 afterwards made another will in favour of her sister Made- 
 line, which was now produced. It was clear she was the 
 instrument of the plaintiff. It was impossible to go on 
 paying the premiums, which would amount yearly to 201. 
 When the assurances were effected, the poor young lady 
 was taken ill and died of eating oysters. The plaintiff had 
 not been able to pay his servants' wages. There was an 
 execution in his house, and at that time the young lady 
 was in perfect health. The Attorney-General then put it 
 to the jury whether it was oysters or medicine that caused 
 the young lady's death, and observed that Mrs. Waine- 
 wright, when the young lady was recovering on the 
 Tuesday, the day of her death, after the doctor was gone, 
 administered a medicine 
 
 Lord ABINGER interrupted the Attorney-General and 
 objected to his pursuing that course. 
 
 The ATTORNEY-GENERAL contended, that if he could 
 show that Miss Abercromby was only the puppet of the 
 plaintiff, that the policies were, in fact, all of them his 
 policies, and only fraudulently procured to be made out to 
 her name, then by the 13th Geo. III., c. 48, they would be
 
 APPENDIX. 345- 
 
 invalid as wagering policies, because no man could insure 
 the life of another in whose life he had no interest ; and it 
 was not pretended that the plaintiff had any interest in this 
 lady's life. The parties were guilty of misrepresentation at 
 all the offices, and particularly at the offices of the defen- 
 dants, in concealing that she had made other assurances, 
 and on that account the policy was void. 
 
 The application to the Board of Ordnance and the 
 insurance in various offices to the amount of .16,000 was 
 proved, and also that the plaintiff, or Mrs. "VVainewright, 
 accompanied Miss Abercromby to the offices, and that she 
 was represented not to have insured in other offices ; and 
 various reasons for the insurance were given, as to enable 
 her to bring a law-suit for the recovery of property, &c. ; 
 and some of the bank-notes paid for premiums were traced 
 as having come from the plaintiff or his wife, and the 
 execution of assignment of two policies to the plaintiff by 
 two different attorneys, who filled up the blank forms in 
 one case previously filled up in pencil by the plaintiff, was 
 proved. Both these attorneys were strangers to Miss- 
 Abercromby. 
 
 Mr. ERLE replied, and insisted that there was no fraud 
 or misrepresentation on the defendants. They well knew,, 
 as appeared by Mr. Ingall their actuary's evidence, that a 
 former assurance had been made, yet they resolved to grant 
 the policy. Having taken the premium, they were bound 
 to fulfil their contract. It was no defence even if Miss 
 Abercromby had been murdered, but that charge was raised 
 to prejudice the minds of the jury. If Miss Abercromby 
 had not killed herself, died by the hands of justice, or on 
 the high seas, it was no defence if she had been killed by 
 anybody else ; but the examination and the evidence of Dr^ 
 Locock was a complete answer to that insinuation. 
 
 Lord ABINGER said, if a party were to kill himself, it 
 would be fraud upon the office, and avoid the policy, even 
 if it was not so expressed in the policy ; but it would be no- 
 defence to the office if the party whose life was assured 
 were killed by another person, and if it had been clearly 
 proved that the plaintiff had killed Miss Abercromby, still 
 the office would have to pay, because that would be no
 
 346 APPENDIX. 
 
 fraud in her. But there was no pretence to call upon the 
 jury to find that was the case. No person could be con- 
 victed on such evidence, and he doubted whether he had 
 not suffered too much evidence to be given, and remarks to 
 be made, on that head. The questions were, was this 
 policy bond fide the policy of Miss Abercromby, or was it 
 really the policy of the plaintiff ? It was clear that the 
 .two policies assigned were the policies of the plaintiff, and 
 had been so from the beginning, and he therefore thought 
 they were void ; and the jury were to judge whether this 
 was bond fide Miss Abercromby's policy. The next point 
 was, whether there was a wilful misrepresentation. Mr. 
 Ingall complained that she had not mentioned one insur- 
 ance, and the plaintiff's counsel remarked that the defen- 
 dants were aware of the former assurances, but that was 
 not the case, for two other assurances had been then effected, 
 of which they were not aware. The jury were to judge 
 whether this was a misrepresentation of such a fact as if 
 known would have prevented the office from assuring. If 
 not bond fide the policy of Miss Abercromby, or if a material 
 misrepresentation, the plaintiff could not recover. 
 
 The jury, after deliberating two hours, sent out a note 
 that they were six to six, and not likely to agree, and asked 
 if the parties would consent to withdraw a juror, which was 
 done accordingly. Juror withdrawn. 
 
 (From the Times, December 4th, 1835.) 
 
 COURT OF EXCHEQUER, WESTMINSTER. 
 THURSDAY, DECEMBER SHD. 
 
 (Before Lord ABINGER and a Special Jury.) 
 WAINEWRIGHT v. BLAND and Another. 
 
 This was a new trial. It was an action brought by the 
 plaintiff, as executor of Miss Helen Abercromby, to recover 
 from the defendants the sum of 3,000, the value of a
 
 APPENDIX. .MY 
 
 policy which had been effected upon the life of the young 
 lady at the office of the Imperial Life Insurance Company, 
 of which they are directors. Miss Abercromby is the 
 daughter of a deceased officer in the British army, and the 
 plaintiff is married to her half-sister. The cause was ori- 
 ginally tried at the sittings after last Trinity term, when, 
 the jury not being able to agree upon a verdict, a juror 
 was withdrawn with the consent of both parties, and the 
 defendants thought the case was at an end, but the plaintiff 
 had thought proper to renew the action. As the original 
 trial was reported at considerable length in the Times, and 
 the circumstances must be fresh in the recollection of our 
 readers, we consider it unnecessary to do more on the 
 present occasion than recapitulate the leading points of the 
 evidence. 
 
 Mr. ERLE and Mr. ANDERSON appeared for the plaintiff, 
 and the ATTORNEY-GENERAL, Sir F. POLLOCK, and Mr. 
 THESIGER, for the defendants. 
 
 Mr. EHLE stated the case to the jury. 
 
 SAMUEL INGALL, actuary to the Imperial Life Insurance 
 Office, proved that Miss Abercromby had effected an 
 insurance for 3,000 upon her life for two years in that 
 office. 
 
 Cross-examined by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Miss 
 Abercromby came to the office on the 15th of October, 
 1830, in company with Mrs. Wainewright. She was asked 
 why she wished 'to insure her life for only two years, and 
 she replied, that she wished to secure a sum of money for 
 her sister in case of her death within two years, after which 
 she would be able to provide for her from other sources. 
 She was asked whether she had insured in any other office ; 
 and Mrs. Wainewright replied in the negative, but said that 
 she intended to insure in another office to the extent of 
 2,000. On the 22nd of the same month Miss Abercromby 
 came to the office again, when he informed her that he had 
 ascertained that at the time she was before at the office 
 she had insured her life for 5,000 in one office, and had 
 made an application to insure in another, which had 
 been refused. He told her further, that the directors were 
 displeased with her for the want of candour which she had
 
 348 APPENDIX. 
 
 exhibited. Miss Abercromby said that she understood very 
 little of the matter herself, but she acted under the advice 
 of her friends. The policy was effected. If the directors 
 of the Imperial had known that Miss Abercromby had in- 
 sured her life in other offices to the amount of ,11,000, 
 they certainly would not have completed the insurance 
 without further inquiry. 
 
 Miss Abercromby's will was put in, by which she left all 
 her property to her sister and appointed the plaintiff her 
 executor. 
 
 JAMES STEWART, an auctioneer, proved that he had been 
 in the habit of receiving rents for some leasehold and free- 
 hold property belonging to Mrs. Abercromby at Mortlake. 
 The rents amounted to 100, and the freehold was subse- 
 quently sold for 200. 
 
 On cross-examination he stated he had advanced between 
 40 and 50 to Mrs. Abercromby, for which he had not 
 been paid. 
 
 Dr. LOCOCK, of Hanover-square, deposed that he was 
 called upon to attend Miss Abercromby on the 16th of 
 December, 1830. He had seen her before, and had known 
 some part of her family for many years. He found her 
 labouring under a pressure of the brain. Upon inquiry, he 
 was informed that on the Monday previous she had gone to 
 the play and supped on oysters and bottled porter ; on the 
 Tuesday she went again to the play, and got wet feet, with 
 which she sat during the evening. On her return she at 
 first refused to take supper, but on being pressed ate 
 heartily again of oysters and bottled porter. The circum- 
 stances accounted for the pressure on the brain. He was 
 told that she had taken a black draught, and he gave her 
 such medicine as he thought necessary. This treatment 
 did not abate the pressiire, and he cupped her. The illness 
 continued, and she was finally seized with convulsions, 
 which ended in her death. He attended a post-mortem 
 examination, and found serum on the brain, which he 
 thought accounted for the death. The plaintiff appeared 
 anxious to have the body opened, and the friends of the 
 deceased appeared to pay her every attention. 
 
 Cross-examined. Suffusion on the brain might be pro-
 
 APPENDIX. 349 
 
 duced by excessive vomiting ; but it was more likely to 
 occasion the bursting of a blood-vessel. He had not wit- 
 nessed the examination of the stomach of any person whose 
 death had been occasioned by vegetable poison, which was 
 most difficult to detect. He saw nothing which led him to 
 suppose that Miss Abercromby's death was occasioned by 
 poison. 
 
 EDWARD HANKS, a surgeon's apothecary, confirmed the 
 evidence of Dr. Locock as to the nature of Miss Aber- 
 cromby's disease. There was nothing in the state of the 
 stomach to cause a suspicion of foul play. 
 
 This was the plaintiffs case. 
 
 The ATTORNEY-GENERAL, for the defendants, contended 
 that his clients were entitled to a verdict on two grounds 
 first, that Miss Abercromby and Mrs. Wainewright had made 
 false statements to the insurance office ; and, secondly, that 
 Miss Abercromby had no interest in the policy which was 
 effected for the benefit of Wainewright, which was contrary 
 to the statute of the 14th of Geo. III., cap. 48. After 
 stating that the whole transaction was of a most suspicious 
 nature, he said that Wainewright had left this country, and 
 there was good reason to believe would never again return 
 to it. The learned gentleman then called the following 
 evidence : 
 
 Mr. RICHARD M. MARSHALL, a clerk in the Ordnance 
 Office, produced a letter signed by Miss Abercomby, dated 
 August, 1830, stating that now she had attained the age of 
 21 she was " totally unprovided for," and requesting the 
 continuance of her pension of 10 a-year, which she enjoyed 
 as the daughter of an officer. He also produced an affidavit 
 sworn at the same period by Miss Abercromby, stating that 
 -she was "totally unprovided for." The pension was 
 granted in 1812. 
 
 NICHOLAS GRTJTE, actuary to the Palladium Insurance 
 Office, deposed, that on the 23rd of March Mr. Wainewright 
 made an application at that office to effect an insurance on 
 the life of Miss Abercromby. The insurance was completed 
 on the 20th of April following, for ,3,000 for three years. 
 The premium was 39, and stamp 4. Inquiry was made 
 as to the object of the insurance, and Mrs. Wainewright said
 
 350 APPENDIX. 
 
 it was to raise money to enable them to get possession of 
 property which would fall in within three years. Miss 
 Abercromby was present also. Miss Abercromby being 
 asked the object of the insurance, replied, that she had been 
 told it was proper for her to do it. On the 18th of Decem- 
 ber the person who had before appeared as Miss Ellen 
 Abercromby, and upon whose life the insurance had been 
 effected, came again to the office, in company with two 
 ladies. He is sure of the date of the 18th, because he re- 
 ceived a sum of money at that time, which he was count- 
 ing, and left on seeing Miss Abercromby. He went to her, 
 and said, "Miss Abercromby, I believe?" She replied, 
 " Yes, Ellen." She wished to know the form of assignment 
 of policies. He told her he had no such form in the office. 
 
 THOMAS KIRK, an attorney, deposed that an assignment 
 of the policy in the Palladium was written by him over a 
 draft written in pencil, which was brought to him by a 
 lady calling herself Miss Abercromby. She came alone. 
 He had never seen her before. She came on the 14th of 
 December, 1830. 
 
 Lord ABINGEB. The last witness must have mistaken 
 the day when he saw Miss Abercromby the second time. 
 She was dying on the 18th of December. 
 
 Mr. GRUTE. .My Lord, I cannot be mistaken on the 
 point. I can prove it was the 18th by the entry which I 
 made in the books of the money I received. 
 
 THOMAS KIRK continued his evidence. There was some 
 writing in ink as well as in pencil in the draught of the 
 assignment. 
 
 Mr. CORNWALL proved that the writing in ink was in 
 Wainewright's handwriting. 
 
 The assignment was read, and it appeared that the con- 
 sideration given for the assignment of the interest in the 
 .3,000 policy for 19 19s. 
 
 MONKHOUSE TATE, secretary to the Pelican Office, 
 deposed that on the 25th of September, 1830, a proposal 
 was made by Wainewright to effect an insurance in that 
 office on the life of Miss Abercromby for .5,000 for two 
 years. On the first of October Mrs. Wainewright and Miss 
 Abercromby came, and Miss Abercromby stated that a
 
 APPENDIX. 351 
 
 proposal had been made to insure her life, and she came to- 
 complete it. On the 8th of October they came again, and 
 Miss Abercromb} 
 pleted. 
 
 Cross-examined by 
 periods, but it is very rare to insure from year to year. 
 
 BUCKSTEAD, a clerk in the Eagle Company, deposed 
 that on the October, 1830, Miss Abercromby came to 
 that office, in company with Mrs. Wainewright, and pro- 
 posed to insure her life for .2,000 for two years. The 
 proposal was declined. 
 
 ANDREW HAMILTON, secretary to the Alliance Company, 
 remembered Miss Abercromby coming to that office on the 
 5th of October, accompanied by Mrs. Wainewright. Miss- 
 Abercromby stated that a suit was pending in Chancery, 
 which would probably close soon in her favour ; but if she 
 were to die in the interim the property would go to another 
 family, and she wished to provide by insurance against 
 that contingency. In the course of the inquiries made by 
 witness, Miss Abercromby said " I thought your inquiries 
 would be about my health and not about the object I have 
 in insuring." Witness said, in reply, she might be mis- 
 taken, for a young lady had come about two years ago to 
 effect an insurance for a short period, and it was the opinion 
 of the company that she had met her death by unfair 
 means, which circumstances made the office cautious. She 
 said she was sure no person about her could have such an 
 object, which of course he assented to, but the insurance 
 was declined. 
 
 JOHN CHARLES DENHAM, secretary to the Globe Insur- 
 ance Company, deposed that on the 1st of October Miss 
 Abercromby made a proposal to insure her life for ,5,000 
 for two years. She came a second time, in company with 
 Mrs. Wainewright, and being asked the object of wishing to 
 insure, she said she did not exactly know ; she was desired 
 to do it. Being pressed upon the point, she referred to 
 Mrs. Wainewright, who said, " It is so. There are some 
 money matters to be arranged. Ladies do not know much 
 about these things." Miss Abercromby was asked whether 
 other insurances were being effected, and she replied
 
 352 APPENDIX. 
 
 "No." The office knowing that to be untrue, declined 
 effecting the insurance. 
 
 ROBERT RICKARDS, a clerk in the Hope Office, deposed 
 that on the 15th of October, 1830, Miss Abercromby and 
 Mrs. Wainewright came to that office and made a proposal 
 for 2,000 for two years. Miss Abercromby appeared before 
 the medical officer on the 19th of the same month, was 
 accepted, and the policy was effected on the 27th. 
 
 JAMES BIRD, an attorney, deposed, that on the 13th of 
 December Mrs. Wainewright and Miss Abercromby came to 
 him. He had seen Mrs. Wainewright two or three times 
 before, but had never done business for her. Mrs. Waine- 
 wright said she had a little job for him, and produced a 
 form of an assignment, which she said she had procured 
 from the Hope Insurance Office, and which she wished him 
 to fill up. He filled up the instrument at the dictation of 
 Mrs. Wainewright. Miss Abercromby took no part in the 
 proceedings. He said he should like to see the considera- 
 tion money (19 19s.) paid. Mrs. Wainewright said they 
 would settle that point with Mr. Wainewright. Miss Aber- 
 cromby merely signed her name. He knew Miss Aber- 
 cromby's mother. She let a ready-furnished house at 
 Mortlake, and she told witness it was all the property she 
 had to depend upon. 
 
 Mr. BARBER BEAUMONT, managing director of the Pro- 
 vident Company, remembered Miss Abercromby coming to 
 that office on the 19th of October, accompanied by Mr. and 
 Mrs. Wainewright ; Miss Abercromby made a proposal to 
 insure her life for ,2,000 for two years. The proposal was 
 accepted some days afterwards, but the policy was not com- 
 pleted, and it never was applied for. Miss Abercromby was 
 a remarkably healthy and handsome girl. 
 
 LEEST, an attorney, of Took's-court, Chancery-lane, 
 deposed that on the 13th of December, 1830, he was applied 
 to to make Miss Abercromby's will by Miss Abercromby 
 herself. He had never seen her before. She came about 
 12 or 1 o'clock, and gave iustructions. She called again 
 about 2, ancl two fair copies were made by her desire. She 
 gave verbal instructions. She executed both wills, and 
 took them away.
 
 APPENDIX. 353 
 
 FRANCIS SLOKUM, a clerk to the last witness, said that, 
 according to the best of his recollection, Miss Abercromby, 
 when she came to execute the will, said she was going abroad. 
 
 BENJAMIN STODART was called, but did not answer. 
 
 DRAKE, a clerk in the house of Jones, Loyd, and Co., 
 deposed that a bill of exchange was presented at that house 
 on the 28th of September, 1830. The bill was paid in 
 notes (which were shown to the witness and identified by 
 him.) 
 
 Mr. CORNWALL proved that the receipt on the back of the 
 bill was in the handwriting of Mrs. Wainewright. 
 
 Mr. DRAKE said the bill was drawn on the 24th, and was 
 payable at sight. 
 
 Mr. TATE was recalled, and proved that two of the notes 
 which the last witness identified as having been paid to 
 Mrs. Wainewright were paid by Miss Abercromby for the 
 premium on the insurance effected in the Pelican Office. 
 
 Mr. INGALL was recalled, and gave similar evidence with 
 respect to the notes received from Miss Abercromby for the 
 premium on the policy effected in the Imperial Office. 
 
 Mr. CORNWALL deposed that the name of Wainewright 
 was written in Wainewright's handwriting upon one of the 
 notes received by Mrs. Wainewright, from Jones, Lloyd, and 
 Co. The witness stated, that he is an attorney, and was 
 concerned for Mr. Sharpus, of Cockspur-street, a dealer in 
 crockery. Mr. Sharpus had pecuniary dealings with Waine- 
 wright, and on several occasions applied to witness to pro- 
 cure payments from Wainewright. In July, 1830, Mr. 
 Sharpus held two securities from Wainewright, one a warrant 
 of attorney, and the other a bill of sale. (The warrant of 
 attorney was produced by Mr. Clark, of the Judgment 
 Office.) The consideration for the warrant of attorney was 
 610. The bill of sale was produced and identified by the 
 witness. It was prepared on the 8th of July, 1830, and was 
 for the whole furniture and effects in Wainewright's house. 
 By the warrant the money was payable in August, 1830, 
 when Wainewright applied for time. This was acceded to, 
 upon Wainewright making an affidavit that he had given no 
 other security to any person, and payment was postponed 
 to the 21st of December. Witness saw Wainewright when 
 
 2A
 
 354 APPENDIX. 
 
 Miss Abercromby was lying dead, and Wainewright wished 
 payment to be again postponed. Mr. Sharpus objected, 
 and Wainewright calledin the evening of the same day, and 
 produced two wills of Miss Abercromby's. Wainewright 
 read one will, which was prepared by Mr. Leest. Waine- 
 wright said the other was a will in favour of himself and 
 Mrs. Wainewright ; the name of one of the attesting witnesses 
 to the second will was Mr. Wainewright, an attorney of 
 Furnival's Inn. The date of both wills was either the 13th 
 or 14th of December. The witness made some remark as 
 to the singularity of his having two wills. Wainewright 
 replied in effect, that the reason was, that if one will 
 failed, the other would do. Judgment was entered upon 
 the warrant of attorney, and execution sued out. The 
 whole of the debt and costs were paid in January, 1831, 
 without a sale. 
 
 Miss Abercromby's will was put in and Wainewright's 
 affidavit upon suing out probate, in which he swore that her 
 whole property was under the value of ,100. 
 
 Several tradesmen of Turnham Green, where Wainewright 
 resided (including a baker, a grocer, a butcher, and a coal 
 dealer), proved that at the end of 1830 and the beginning 
 of 1831, Wainewright was indebted to them individually for 
 goods supplied to him. They had never been able to 
 obtain payment from him up to the present moment. 
 This was the case for the defence. 
 Mr. ERLE having replied, 
 
 Lord ABINGEK summed up the evidence, and told the 
 jury it was for them to determine whether misrepresenta- 
 tion had been employed by Miss Abercromby and her 
 friends when the insurance was effected in the defendant's 
 office, and also whether the insurance had been made for 
 the benefit of Wainewright in contravention of the statute. 
 The case was pregnant with suspicion. It was necessary to 
 consider for a moment whether murder had been committed 
 (supposing that question had been raised), because that 
 would not prevent the executors from recovering, provided 
 that the insurance had been effected bond fide on her behalf. 
 His Lordship directed the attention of the jury to the ex- 
 tarordinary fact of the young lady having effected the in-
 
 APPENDIX. 355 
 
 surance for only two years, and reminded them that not a 
 tittle of proof had been adduced to substantiate the reasons 
 she had given to the various offices for so doing. By the 
 assignments and wills made by Miss Abercromby, Mrs. 
 Wainewright was placed in a situation in which the law 
 would not allow any person to stand namely, that of 
 having an interest in procuring the death of a fellow- 
 creatiire by unlawful means. He concluded with requesting 
 the jury to state their reasons for their verdict when they 
 delivered it. 
 
 The jury almost immediately returned a verdict for the 
 defendants, on the ground of misrepresentation, and of Miss 
 Aberoromby having no real interest in the insurance. 
 
 2 A2
 
 357 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Abach, Hans, 28 
 
 Abbott, Mr. W., 81 
 
 Abercromby, Lieut., xxvii 
 
 Abercromby, Mrs., xxvii, xxviii, 
 xxix, xxxviii, xxxix, xl, li, 
 Ixvii, 340, 343, 348 
 
 Abercromby, Helen Frances 
 Phoebe, xxvii, xxix, xxxix, xlii, 
 xliv, xlv, xlvi, xlvii, xlviii, 1, li, 
 Iviii, Ixxvii, 337, 339, 340, 341, 
 343, 344, 346, 347, 348, 349, 
 350, 351, 352 
 
 Abercromby, Madeleine, xxvii, 
 xxx, xxxix, xlii, xlv, xlviii, xlix, 
 liii, Ivii, lix, Ixviii, Ixix, Ixxviii, 
 Ixxxi, 338, 339, 343, 344, 345 
 
 Abernethy, Dr., 94 
 
 Abinger, Lord, lix, Ixviii, Ixix, 
 337, 344, 345, 346, 350, 354 
 
 Ach, John Van, 10 
 
 Acheson, Mr., Solicitor, liii, liv, 
 Iv, Ivii 
 
 Ackland, SirT., 236, 237 
 
 Adelung, J. C., 224 
 
 ^Ischylus, 221 
 
 JEsop, 8 
 
 Agasse, J. L., 157 
 
 Albano, 188, 202 
 
 Alberti, Cherubino, 183, 186 
 
 Alderson, Mr. Baron, Ixiii 
 
 Allan, Kir William, P.R.S.A., 
 R.A., 153 
 
 Allan, Mr. Grant, 337 
 
 Allegri, A. da C., 174 
 
 Altorfer, Albert, 285 
 
 Anderson, Mr., Barrister, 347 
 
 Anesley, Mrs. Geo., 121, 160 
 
 Angerstein, Mr., 173, 185, 283 
 
 Antonio, M., 156, 206, 208 
 
 Arabin, Mr. Serjeant, Ixiv 
 
 Ariosto, 2, 145, 185 
 
 Arnald, George, A.R.A., 123 
 
 Arndt, 243 
 
 Arne, Dr., 78 
 
 Aristotle, 311 
 
 Atkinson, Mr., Basinghall Street, 
 
 lii, liii 
 
 Audebert, V., 116 
 Audran, B., 220 
 
 Bacon, Lord, 249 
 
 Baily, E. H., 263 
 
 Bandinelli, Baccio, 200, 226, 250 
 
 Baroccio, F., 161, 174, 188 
 
 Barrett, G., 125 
 
 Bartoli, Sante, 183, 207, 208 
 
 Bartolomeo, Fra, 188, 200, 233 
 
 Barton, Bernard, xxx, xxxvii, 
 
 Ixxix 
 
 Bartsch, A., 42, 47, 221, 284, 287 
 Batty, Capt., Ill 
 Bassano, Leandro, 161, 253 
 Beattie, J., 71 
 Beaumont, Sir G., 163 
 Beaumont and Fletcher, 322 
 Beechey, Sir W., 120 
 Beethoven, 141 
 Belzoni, G. B., xxvi, 105 
 Bentley, Mr. Richard, xi, xii, xiii 
 Bertano, Battista, 198
 
 358 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Bewick, 194 
 
 Bias, Fanny, 141 
 
 Bielfield, Mr., Devon, 236 
 
 Bishop, Sir H. R., 77 
 
 Bland, Michael, 337, 346 
 
 Blessington, Lady, Ixxvii 
 
 Bloemart, A., 285 
 
 Boccacio, 2, 33 
 
 Bockholt, F. Von, 285 
 
 Bohte, Mr., Bookseller, 21. 68, 
 
 69, 70, 196 
 Boleyn, Anne, 222 
 Bologna, Gio di, 285 
 Bologna, John di, 223 
 Bonasoni, 40, 41, 42, 46, 113, 140, 
 
 156, 206, 226, 287 
 Bone, Henry, R.A., 148, 161, 263 
 Bonmot, Egomet, xxii, xxxiv, Ix, 
 
 Ixxiii, 1, 5, 6, 21, 22, 97, 101, 
 
 102, 103, 104, 105, 107 
 Boosey, Mr., Publisher, 216, 217 
 Bordone, Paris, 83, 233 
 Bourdon, 285 
 Boutvois, Engraver, 233 
 Bovinet, Engraver, 233 
 Brachman, Louise, 243 
 Bramer, L., 161 
 Brauwer, A., 117 
 Briggs, H. P., 164 
 Brooms, Mr. Stinking Van, xxii, 
 
 264 
 
 Brown, SirT., 322 
 Browne, Mr. Hablot, Ixv 
 Brunton, Miss, 74 
 Buckhurst, Lord, 64 
 Buckstead, Mr., Witness, 351 
 Buffon, 116 
 Bulwer, Sir E. L. E., xxxvi, Ixvii, 
 
 Ixviii, Ixxi 
 Bunn, Mrs., 80 
 
 Buonarotti, see Michael Angelo 
 Burnet, 228 
 
 Burney, Charles, xiv, xviii, 311 
 Burney, Edward, 156 
 Burney, Fanny, xli 
 Burns, 77 
 Butter, Cornelius, 337 
 
 Byron, Lord, 152, 249, 258, 291, 
 293, 321 
 
 Cadell, Mr., Publisher, 155 
 
 Caesar, 8 
 
 Callcott, Sir A. W., 163, 251 
 
 Camoens, 3 
 
 Campanella, A., 232 
 
 Campi, Giulio, 198 
 
 Caraglio, G., 206 
 
 Carlyle, T., xxiv 
 
 Carpenter, Mrs. M. S., 128 
 
 Carr, Rev., 179 
 
 Carracci, A., 55, 56, 181, 202, 220 
 
 Carravaggio, M. A. de, 188, 220, 
 
 233 
 
 Catullus, 3 
 
 Chalon, J., 156, 250, 262 
 Chalon, A. E., 89, 156 
 Chantry, Sir Francis L., R.A., 
 
 110, 148, 251 
 Chapman, George, 139, 205, 295, 
 
 300 
 
 Chartier, Alain, 23 
 Chaucer, 2, 23 
 Cimabue, 273 
 Clare, John, xxxiii, 97, 218, 312, 
 
 313 
 
 Clark, Eliza, xiii, xiv 
 Claude, L., 46, 115, 120, 141, 144 
 Cleaver, Miss, 253 
 Clifford, Lord, 236 
 Clint, George, 163 
 Cochin, Mons., 229 
 Cockburn, Major, 111, 166 
 Cole, Mr., Exeter, 235 
 Coleridge, S. T., xxxiv, 321 
 Collins, W., R.A., 129, 142 
 
 154, 190, 251, 260 
 Collins, D., 118 
 Colnaghi, Mr., 198, 208, 210, 232, 
 
 284, 293 
 
 Constable, John, 164 
 Cook, Mr. Richard, 186, 191, 192 
 Cooke, G., 142 
 Cooke, W., 142, 218 
 Cooper, A., R.A., 157, 163, 251,260
 
 INDEX. 
 
 359 
 
 Corbould, H., 148 
 
 Cornwall, Barry, see Procter 
 
 Cornwall, Mr., Witness, 350, 353 
 
 Corneille, 3 
 
 Cornelius, P. von, Ixxvi, 11 
 
 Correggio, 55, 140, 143, 173, 175, 
 
 188, 198, 210, 233, 253, 285, 306, 
 
 315 
 
 Couche", 220 
 Cowley, 138 
 Crabbe, G., 87, 149 
 Cranach, Lucas, 285 
 Crome, I., 121 
 
 Cunningham, Allan, 241, 316, 324 
 Cumberland, Mr., 42, 47, 297 
 Cunego, 187 
 Cuyp, A., 253 
 
 Dague, Engraver, 233 
 Dambrun, Engraver, 233 
 Danby, F., A.R.A., 159 
 Daniell, William, 113, 142, 148, 
 
 164, 196, 251 
 Dante, 2, 52 
 
 Davies, Thomas, Bookseller, x 
 Davy, Sir Humphrey, 157 
 Delamotte, William, 196 
 Delaroche, H., Ixxvi 
 Demosthenes, 8 
 
 Denham, John C., Witness, 351 
 Denner, B., 184 
 De Quincey, Thomas, xxiv, Ixxiv, 
 
 97,98 
 
 Desnoyers, A. G. L. B., 151 
 Desplaces, L., 208 
 De Wint, P., 128, 142, 218 
 D'Hanicarville, 221, 301 
 Dibdin, Rev. T. F., 113 
 Dickens, Charles, Ixv, Ixvii 
 Diepenbeke, 285 
 Dilke, Sir Wentworth, Bart., 
 
 xxxiii 
 
 Disraeli, B., xxxv, xxxvi 
 Domemchino, 188, 202, 232, 233 
 Dorigny, 232 
 Douw, 184 
 Drake, Mr., Witness, 353 
 
 Dubois-Maissonneuve, 221 
 Duchange, G., 220, 232 
 Duclos, Mdlle., xxv, 213 
 Duparc, Engraver, 233 
 Durer, Albert, 10, 127, 171, 208, 
 
 285 
 Duruset, 77 
 
 Eardley, Lord, 179 
 Eastlake, Sir C. L., 235 
 Edelinck, Engraver, 220 
 Edgeworth, Miss, 241 
 Eeckhout, G. van den, 161 
 Egremont, Earl of, 237 
 Elia, see Lamb, Charles 
 Elliston, K. W., 72 
 Elsheimer, Adam, 115, 285 
 Elton, C. A., 118, 119, 164, 242, 
 
 320 
 
 Emery, John, 80 
 Erie, Mr., Barrister, 337, 338, 345, 
 
 347, 351, 354 
 Etty, William, 93, 126, 127, 163, 
 
 164, 260 
 
 Farley, Charles, 120 
 Faulkner, Thomas, xii 
 Fauntleroy, Henry, xxxvii 
 Faustus, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 
 
 20, 21, 216 
 Febre, Le, 178, 220 
 Fenelon, 48 
 Ferdousi, 3 
 
 Filhol, A. M., 220, 232, 233 
 Flaxman, John, xix, Ixxvi, 221, 
 
 263, 264 
 Flink, G., 161 
 Follett, Sir W., 337 
 Forrester, Mr., Detective, Ixii, 
 
 Ixvii 
 Forster, John, xxxiii, Ixv, Ixvi, 
 
 Ixvi 
 
 Foss, Edward, Ixiii 
 Foss, Henry, Ixiii 
 Foster, 232 
 Fouque', Caroline, 243
 
 360 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Fouque", La Motte, 196, 213, 214, 
 243, 276, 294 
 
 Frey, Jaco., 232 
 
 Fuller, John, 322 
 
 Fuseli, Henry, xix, liv, Ixxvi, 54, 
 69, 90, 91, 93, 120, 132, 143, 
 146, 149, 150, 157, 164, 172, 
 174, 178, 199, 200, 202, 225, 
 228, 229, 252, 287 
 
 Gainsborough, Thomas, 154 
 
 Gallestruzzi, G., 183 
 
 Gallo, Bastiano San, 227 
 
 Gandy, 121, 128, 145 
 
 Garofolo, 220 
 
 Caspar, 285 
 
 George III., x 
 
 Geraut, Engraver, 233 
 
 Ghisi, Giorgio, 156, 206, 287 
 
 Ghisi, Theodoro, 198, 208, 287 
 
 Giacopo, 179 
 
 Giorgone, G. B., 83, 220, 227, 254 
 
 Giotto, 273 , 
 
 Giulio Romano, 140, 150, 156, 
 
 183, 188, 198, 199, 201, 202, 
 
 203, 206, 207, 210, 220, 232, 
 
 285, 315 
 
 Goethe, 10, 12, 166, 214, 243 
 Golding, Richard, 192, 193 
 Goldsmith, Oliver, x, xii, xvi, xli, 
 
 321 
 
 Goltzius, 10, 183, 200, 285 
 Graham, Mr., Surgeon, 242 
 Grammont, Count, xxx 
 Grant, Sir W., 85 
 Grattan, Harriet, Witness, 340 
 Grey, Lord, 94 
 Grose, Capt,, 221 
 Griffiths, Ann, see Wainewright, 
 
 Mrs. Thomas 
 Griffiths, Mrs., xii, xiii 
 Griffiths, Geo. Edward, xv, xvi, 
 
 xvii, xviii, xxix, xxxiii, xxxviii, 
 
 li, Ixii, Ixix, 336 
 Griffiths, Ralph, LL.D., ix, x, xi, 
 
 xii, xiii, xv, xvi, xvii, 335, 336, 
 
 337 
 
 Grute, Mr. N., Witness, 349, 350 
 Guercino, 188 
 Guido, 47, 202 
 Guiseppino, 220 
 
 Hafiz, M., 3 
 
 Hakewill, J., Ill 
 
 Hamilton, Andrew, Witness, 351 
 
 Hamilton, Gaven, 187 
 
 Hamilton, Sir W., 221, 330 
 
 Hanks, Mr., Witness, 340, 349 
 
 Handcock, Sarah, Witness, 339 
 
 Hardenburgh, Von, 213, 276 
 
 Harris, W. A., 237 
 
 Harvey, W., 193, 194 
 
 Hastings, Capt., 163 
 
 Haughton, Mr., Miniature Paint- 
 er, 147, 148, 229 
 
 Haydon, B. R., xxvi, 105, 193 
 
 Hayter, Sir George, 94, 148 
 
 Hazlitt, William, xxi, xxiv, xxx r 
 xxxv. xxxvi, 73, 136, 269, 308, 
 318 ' 
 
 Heath, Charles, 155 
 
 Heath, J., Ill 
 
 Heina, Engraver, 233 
 
 Hemskirk, 202 
 
 Henderson, Mr.,Barrister,337,338 
 
 Herodotus, 185, 224 
 
 Hesiod, 221 
 
 Heynz, 285 
 
 Hilton, 93, 128, 150, 156, 218 
 261 
 
 Hofland, T. C., 128 
 
 Hoist, Van, liv 
 
 Homer, 7, 138, 185, 193, 200, 221 
 
 Hontheraels, 179 
 
 Hook, Theodore, 318 
 
 Howard, Henry, 150, 153, 157, 
 227, 258 
 
 Hulmandel and Harding, 111 
 
 Hunt, Leigh, xxxv, 26, 27, 125. 
 204, 318 
 
 Hurst, Mr., 284 
 
 Ingall, Mr., Witness, 338, 345,, 
 353
 
 INDEX. 
 
 361 
 
 Ireland, Mr., xxxv 
 Italinsky, 221 
 
 Jackson, John, R.A., 119, 151, 
 
 160, 250 
 
 Johnson, Dr. S., ix, x, xii, xxxii, 
 
 xli, 166, 321 
 Jordaens, 161 
 Jones, Capt., 150 
 Jouillain, 229 
 
 Kant, 276 
 
 Kean, Charles J., 21, 83, 233 
 
 Keats, John, 124, 159, 166, 174, 
 290 
 
 Kelly, Miss F., 309 
 
 Kemble, Charles, 72, 79, 81, 120, 
 309 
 
 Kendall, Mr. W., Devon, 236 
 
 King and Nicholson, Apothe- 
 caries, 340 
 
 Kirk, Thomas, Engraver, 224 
 
 Kirk, Thomas, Witness, li, 350 
 
 Kneller, Sir Godfrey, 50 
 
 Knight, Payne, 222 
 
 Kolbe, 142 
 
 Lamb, Charles, xxi, xxiv, xxx, 
 
 xxxvi, xxxvii, xl, Ixxvi, Ixxvii, 
 
 ixxix, 143, 162, 241, 300, 307, 
 
 308, 310, 315, 317, 320, 322, 331 
 
 '> Lamb, Miss, 232, 313 
 
 Lancret. Mons., 32, 229 
 
 Landseer, Miss, 118, 154 
 
 Landseer, Sir Edwin, 116, 117, 
 122, 128, 150, 194 
 
 Lane, S., 161 
 
 Lanfranco, G., 188, 202 
 
 Langton, Bennet, xxxii 
 
 Lante, 83 
 
 Lawrence, Sir Thomas, xix, Ixxvi, 
 85, 86, 143, 147, 151, 156, 158, 
 
 161, 192, 193, 250 
 Lee, Nat. , 3 
 
 Leest, Mr., Witness, 352, 354 
 
 Leslie, C. R., 159 
 
 LeVaillant de Florival, P. E., 116 
 
 Lewis, F., 218 
 
 Lewis, Bookbinder, 224 
 
 Leyden, Lucas van, 285 
 
 Linnel, 160 
 
 Linton, W., 120 
 
 Listen, John, 81, 88, 108 
 
 Locke, xiii 
 
 Locock, Dr., xliv, xlv, xlvi, xlvii, 
 
 Iviii, Ixvi, Ixviii, 338, 339, 340 
 Longhis, 210 
 
 Luini, Bernardino, 232, 284 
 Lyell, Misses, 94 
 
 Macready, W. C., xxxiii, Ixv, 74, 
 81, 141 
 
 Maginn, Dr., xxxiii 
 
 Malvasia, 220 
 
 Mander, Carl van, 10, 202, 285 
 
 Manning, Mr. T., xxxvii 
 
 Mantovano, Rinaldo, 198 
 
 Margaret, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19 
 
 Marlowe, 164 
 
 Marratti, Carlo, 158, 202, 228 
 
 Marshall, Mr. R. M., Witness. 
 349 
 
 Martin, John, 128, 129, 130, 131, 
 132, 133, 146, 160, 161 
 
 Massard, Raphael Urbin, En- 
 graver, 208, 233 
 
 Maturino da Firenze, 183 
 
 Mazzuolo, A., 145, 161 
 
 Mecken, Israel van, 285 
 
 Medici, Lorenzo di, xxv, 213 
 
 Medland, T., Engraver, 12, 155 
 
 Mephistophiles, 15, 17, 18, 19 
 
 Meteyard, Miss, xi, xiii 
 
 Middiman, Samuel, 111 
 
 Michael Angelo, xx, xxiv, 3, 58, 
 112, 140, 145, 146, 147, 150, 
 151, 166, 170, 171, 178, 187, 
 197, 206, 210, 213, 224, 225, 
 226, 232, 252, 259, 303, 306, 
 315 
 
 Michel, J. B., 244, 315 
 
 Mieris, F., 185 
 
 Mignard, N., 202 
 
 Millin, 221, 300
 
 362 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Millingen, 112, 221 
 
 Milton, 2, 8, 51, 106, 265, 315 
 
 Moliere, 8 
 
 Molteno, Mr., 198, 232, 284 
 
 Montaigne, 245 
 
 Moore, Tom, 60 
 
 Morley, Earl, 236 
 
 Morghen, G. E., 151 
 
 Moxon, Edw., xxxvi, Ixxxi 
 
 Mozart, 141, 152 
 
 Mulgrave, Lord, 173 
 
 Miiller, 210 
 
 Muller, T. S., Engraver, 292 
 
 Mulready, William, R.A., 94. 149, 
 
 264 
 
 Murphy, 221 
 Muss, C., 148 
 Mutiano, G., 221 
 
 Navarre, Queen of, 33 
 Netscher, 184 
 Newton, G. S., 119, 148 
 Nichol, Mrs., Witness, 341 
 Niquet, Engraver, 233 
 Noblet, 141 
 
 Normanby, Lord, xxxvi 
 Northcote, Sir Stafford, 236 
 Northcote, James, 151, 152, 237, 
 
 251 
 Novalis, see Hardenburgh von 
 
 Oilier, Messrs., xxi, Ixx, 213, 272 
 O'Neill, Miss, 22, 266 
 Opie, John, R.A., 237 
 Ostade, 237 
 
 Ottley, William Young, 181 
 Ovid, 205 
 
 Owen, William, R.A., 88, 143, 
 145, 151, 160, 237, 250 
 
 Paer, F., 141 
 
 Paley, W., 262 
 
 Palma, The Younger, 181 
 
 Paolo, M., 220 
 
 Parmegiano, 140, 145, 156, 174, 
 
 184, 188, 206, 207, 285, 315 
 Patas, Palais Royal, 208 
 
 Pausanias, 146 
 
 Payne and Foss, Messrs., 139 
 
 Perigal, A., 148 
 
 Perier, 224 
 
 Perino, 285 
 
 Perugine, Pietro, 273 
 
 Perugino, 220 
 
 Peruzzi, B., 220 
 
 Petrarch, 3, 315 
 
 Phillips, Sir Richard, xii 
 
 Phillips, Thomas, R.A.., 85, 86, 
 
 88, 94, 95, 123, 145, 151, 152, 
 
 160, 163, 250 
 Picart, 2'^0 
 
 Pickersgill, H. W., 158, 160 
 Piegot, Engraver, 233 
 Pindar, 315 
 Piombo, F. S. del, 233 
 Piranesi, 145 
 Piroli, T., 221 
 Plato, 272 
 
 Polidoro, 173, 182, 186, 188 
 Pollock, Sir F., 338, 343, 344, 347, 
 
 349 
 
 Pope, The Elder, 9 
 Pope, 138, 193 
 Potter, Paul, 233 
 Poussm, 50, 115, 133, 140, 141, 
 
 183, 199, 226, 233, 258, 263, 285 
 Povor, Major, Ixxvii 
 Price, Miss, xxx 
 Primataccio, Francesco, 145, 183, 
 
 198, 207, 285 
 Procter, Bryan Waller, xxiv, xxx, 
 
 xxxvi, 45, 224, 315, 317, 318, 
 
 324 
 Pye, John, 111 
 
 Racine, 3 
 
 Raphael d'Urbino, 3, 12, 51, 58, 
 112, 140, 145, 150, 156, 182, 
 183, 187, 193, 197, 198, 200, 
 206, 220, 221, 233, 252, 258, 
 283, 285, 292, 306, 315 
 
 Rembrandt, 50, 51, 52, 54, 115, 
 140, 160, 184, 202, 253, 285, 
 306, 315
 
 INDEX. 
 
 363 
 
 Retsch, F. A. M., 21, 68, 112, 196 
 Reverdinus, Gaspar, 206 
 Reynolds, Miss Eliza, 148 
 Reynolds, S. W., 126, 161 
 Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 88, 151, 
 
 161, 174, 235, 236, 252, 286 
 Rickards, R., Witness, 352 
 Robertson, A., 148 
 Robinson, Mr., Barrister, 338 
 Robinson, Jacob, Bookseller, ix 
 Robusti, Giacopo, see Tintoretto 
 Rodwell and Martin, 111. 218,220, 
 
 221 
 
 Rogers, Samuel, 94, 174, 209 
 Rollin, 8 
 
 Romano, see Giulio Romano 
 Rosaspina, Francisco, 55 
 Rose, Doctor, Chiswick, x, xi, xiii, 
 
 xiv 
 
 Rosso, le Maltre Roux, 202, 206 
 Roullet, J. L.,55 
 Rousseau, Jacques, 8 
 Rousseau, Jean B., 8 
 Rossini, 141 
 Rubens, 32, 79, 83, 112, 115. 117, 
 
 140, 141, 155, 220, 233, 285, 315, 
 
 320 
 
 Rutter, Almain, 243 
 Ruysdael, 141 
 Ryn, Van, 132 
 
 Sacchi, 233 
 
 Salviati, 161 
 
 Samuel, George, 122 
 
 Sandy, G., 54 
 
 Sanredam, 183 
 
 Sarto, Andrea del, 170, 188, 233 
 
 Schiavone, 173, 220, 254, 255 
 
 Schiavonnetti, Louis, 226, 227 
 
 Schiller, 3 
 
 Schlegel, A. W., 87, 297, 310 
 
 Schweighaeuser, 224 
 
 Schultze, C. F., 196 
 
 Scott, Sir W., 82, 83, 240, 249 
 
 Scott, John, xxi. 306 
 
 Scriven, E., 218, 252 
 
 Selden, 189 
 
 Senex, 237 
 
 Seymour, Lord Webb, 226 
 
 Shakespeare, 9, 87, 133, 158 
 
 Sharp, Miss L., 148 
 
 Sharp, Richard, 191 
 
 Sharpus, Mr., xliii, li, Hi, 343, 
 
 353, 354 
 
 Shee, Sir M. A., P.R.A., 93 
 Shelley, 271, 272 
 Shelton, Engraver, 152 
 Singleton, Henry, 155 
 Slokum, Mr. Francis. Witness, 
 
 353 
 
 Smirke, 159 
 Smith, Mr., 284 
 Smith, Edward, Ixiii 
 Smith, Major, 221 
 Smollett, Tobias, x 
 Snyders, F., 117, 251 
 Sceur, La, 140, 263, 285 
 Socrates, 8 
 
 Soane, G., 11, 214, 217, 259 
 Sophocles, 185 
 Sotheby, Mr., 201 
 Spada, Lionello, 220 
 Spenser, 2, 45, 157, 185, 298 
 Spranger, B., 10, 202, 285 
 Stark, James, 164 
 Stauf, H. von, 196 
 Stephanoff, F. P., 121, 161, 162, 
 
 163 
 
 Stephens, Miss, 93 
 Sterne, 245 
 
 Stewart, James, Witness, 348 
 Stockdale, John, 12 
 Stotharrd, Thomas, R.A., xix, 
 
 xxiv, Ixxvi, 11, 32, 33, 90, 112, 
 
 113, 144, 150, 154, 156, 158, 
 
 159, 163, 164, 186, 218, 252, 
 
 255, 258 
 
 Stroehling, P. E., 161 
 Stronger, Samuel, 145 
 Strutt, J., 221 
 Surrey, Lord, 57 
 Swift, 22 
 
 Tardieu, 232
 
 364 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Talfourd, Mr. Serjeant, xix, xxiii, 
 
 xxviii, xxxiii, Ixxiii, Ixxiv, Ixxvi, 
 
 Ixxx 
 
 Tassie, 210, 224, 296, 298 
 Tasso, 3, 200, 212, 214 
 Tate, Mr. Monkhouse, Witness, 
 
 350, 353 
 
 Taylor and Hessey, Messrs., 163 
 Taylor, William, 192 
 Taylor, Thomas, 224 
 Teniers, 237 
 Terry, Mrs., 122 
 Thackeray, W. M., xxxvi 
 Thesiger, Mr., Barrister, 338, 347 
 Thomassinus, P., 207 
 Thomson, Henry, R.A., 153 
 Thompson, Mr., 263 
 Thornbury, W., Ixviii, Ixix, 26 
 Tibaldi, Pellegrino, 146, 285 
 Tieck, L., 243 
 Tintoretto, 173, 177, 179, 180, 
 
 181, 220, 254, 285 
 Tischbein, 221, 300 
 Titian, 58, 83, 92, 115, 140, 151, 
 
 158, 177, 181, 184, 188, 220, 
 
 233, 253, 254, 285 
 Thorvaldsen, 150 
 Tree, Miss, 80 
 
 Triphook, Mr., Bookseller, 208 
 Turner, 46, 87, 89, 111, 112, 116, 
 
 120, 141, 143, 144, 188, 251 
 
 Udino, 182 
 Utterson, E. 84 
 
 Vandyke, 83, 143, 158, 285 
 Vaughan, Mr. Justice, Ixiii 
 Vasari, 127, 258 
 Vecellio, C., 145, 177, 261 
 Venusti, Marcello, 225 
 Vernet, Horace, 83, 89 
 Veronese, Paulo, 83, 188, 200, 
 
 220, 266 
 
 Vici, ^Eneas, 287 
 Villerey, A. C. F., 233 
 Vincent, George, 121 
 Virgil, 8 
 
 Vinci, L. Da, 160, 188, 193, 232, 
 
 233, 285, 315 
 Vinkbooms, Herr, xxii, xxiv, Ix, 
 
 Ixxiv, 164, 165, 195, 213, 234, 
 
 237, 250, 258, 304 
 Vivares, F., 142 
 Volpato, G. B., 151, 187, 210, 22&, 
 
 232, 294 
 Voltaire, 3 
 Volterra, D. de, 232 
 
 Wagner, 13 
 
 Waine wright, Thomas Griffiths,. 
 xv, xviii, xix, xx, xxii, xxiii, 
 xxiv, xxv, xxvi, xxviii, xxix,. 
 xxx, xxxii, xxxiii, xxxvi,. 
 xxxviii, xl, xlii, xliii, xlvi, xlvii, 
 xlviii, xlix, li, Hi, liii, liv, Iv, 
 Ivi, Ivii, Iviii, Ix, Ixi, Ixii, Ixiii, 
 Ixiv, Ixv, Ixvi, Ixvii, Ixviii, Ixix, 
 Ixx, Ixxii, Ixxiii, Ixxiv, Ixxv, 
 Ixxvi, Ixxvii, Ixxix, Ixxx, Ixxxi, 
 115, 324, 335, 337, 339, 340, 
 341, 344, 345, 346, 349, 352, 
 353, 354 
 
 Wainewright, Mrs. Thomas Grif- 
 fiths, xxviii, xxxiii xlv, xlvi, 
 xlviii, li, liii, lix, Ixi, Ixviii, 
 Ixxxi, 96, 335, 338, 339, 340, 
 341, 344, 345, 347, 349, 350, 
 351, 353, 355 
 
 Wainewright, Mr. Thomas, xiv, xv 
 
 Wainewright, Mrs. Thomas, xiii, 
 xv, xvi 
 
 Wainewright, Robert, xxviii, Ixiii 
 
 Wainewright, Smith and Giraud, 
 xiv 
 
 Walton, Isaac, 138 
 
 Ward, Mr. T., 121, 122 
 
 Ward, James, 157 
 
 Ward, Miss Frances, see Mrs. T. 
 G. Wainewright 
 
 Ward, Mrs., see Mrs. Abercromby 
 
 Ward, Plumer, xxxvi 
 
 Ward, Mr., xxvii 
 
 Waterloo, A., 142 
 
 Watteau, 32, 33, 83, 112,229, 285
 
 INDEX. 
 
 365 
 
 Weathercock, Janus, xxiii, xxiv, 
 xxxi, xxxix, xl, Ix, Ixxiii, 23, 
 25, 31, 34. 60, 65, 69, 83, 84, 86, 
 88, 95, 109, 113, 145, 165, 208, 
 238, 241, 243, 244, 245, 249, 
 254, 259, 262, 269, 274, 278, 
 279, 302, 303, 304, 308, 309, 
 318, 321 
 
 Wellington, Duke of, 94 
 
 Wedgewood, xi, xii, xli 
 
 West, B., 158 
 
 Westall, W., 83, 124, 142 
 
 Westall, R., xix, Ixxvi, 143, 
 150, 179, 180, 186, 252, 253, 
 255 
 
 Westmacott, Sir R., 263 
 
 White, Kirke, 124 
 Wieland. C. M., 201, 243 
 Wilkie, Sir David, R.A., 87, 143, 
 
 149, 264 
 Willes. W., 128 
 Wilson, R., R.A., 116, 141 
 Wilmot, Sir John Eardley, Ixxv 
 Woodburn, 198, 208, 284 
 Wordsworth, xx, 36, 46, 138, 159, 
 
 239, 305 
 Wouvermans, P., 233, 251 
 
 Young, Ivii 
 Zingel, 285 
 
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