rv:^:& Nf"^: LIBRARY University of California. GIKT OF- Received , igo . Accession No. _(S5()0y . Class No. V' ?\r^t-- •Vao. / . \">m^ IM .. /!¥■ ""^Nm^. ^«i' -^llM J^^^ t . '^V jvv\fr \^1N\\K5 ^\?t| |P^^#^ kkih'^-^' Xt^Kf" 'm f^m. x^ mT-i ^^ r^Uv ■!^i, #y:iii.'..ik& .:.; AV^\«^v >. ^^^#*^ THE GALLERY OF PICTURES THE FIRST MASTERS" THE ENGLISH AND FOREIGN SCHOOLS; BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL DISSERTATIONS ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. VOL. 1. LONDON: GEORGE VIRTUE, IV 1 LAN Ho 12.10 *? 2 DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDER. LIST OF PLATES.— VOL. L Portrait op Allan Cunningham to face the title The Blind Fiddler St. Martin dividing his Clou The Jew Merchant Landscape and Figures The Vigilant Mistress The Young Bull . The Queen of Hearts . The Death of Cleopatra . Christ appearing to St. Peter The Market-Cart . St. John in the Wilderne The Merry Fiddler The Market-Girl Christ Blessing the Children Samuel before Eli The Glade Cottage The Holk Family A Mountain Scene . Le Bal Champetre King Henry V. before Harfleur The Holt Family Merry Wives of Windsor. Act II.- Ghand Canal, Venice The Nativity . Much ado about Nothing. Act III.- Christ Praying in the Garden Death of Chatham Returning Home Taming of the Shrew Adoration of the Magi Jaques Domestic Harmony King Richard II. entering London with the '. A Dutch Ale-house .... Christ Disputing with the Doctors Kino Henry VIII. first Meeting with Anne Boleyn The Ruined Fortress The Shepherd's Watch . Death op Mortimer. Henry V. — Part I., Act Kemble as Hamlet The Conflagration Christ Rejected Murder of the two Princes in the Tower Trio Trac ..... The Last Supper .... Puck ..... Cymbeline. Act III.— Scene VI. Christ in the Sepulchre ,— Scene II. -Scene 1 Wilki^ . T Rubena 3 Rembrandt . 6 . N. Berghem. 7 A. Maas . P.Potter . U . cS^Reni 14 16 A. Caracci 19 . Gaimbfyrough 22 A. Caracci 26 . J. Berkheyden 29 Morland 31 . Overbeck . 33 Copley 35 . Crome . 37 Reynolds . SahalorRosa 40 42 Watteau 46 . WettaU . 48 Baroccio 60 Peters 62 . Canaletto 54 Veronese . 56 . Peters 58 Correggio . 59 . Copley 63 Both 66 . Smirke 68 Rembrandt 69 . Beaumont 72 Vandyke . Lancaster . Northcote 76 79 Mieri, 78 . Leonardo da Vxnd 81 Stothard . 84 . Wilson 86 Cuyp 88 E V. . Northcote 91 Sir T. Lawretice . 92 . G.Poussin . 96 West 98 . Northcote 101 Tenters. 103 . Murillo 106 Reynolds , . Wistall . 108 112 Guercino . 114 .85007 GALLERY OF PICTURES. THE BLIND FIDDLER (WILKIE^ Was painted in the year 1 806, and ifi one of the earliest works of Wilkie. Sir George Beaumont, one of the lirst to encourage, as well as to perceive genius, added " The Blind Fiddler" to his collection, and bequeathed it to the National Gallery, where it now holds a place worthily among the finished productions of the genius of many nations. It measures in length thirty-one inches, and in height twenty-two. This picture is of a class truly British. In unity of purpose it is perhaps one of the best works of the painter, and in variety of character and force or dehnea- tion, the second. In simplicity it cannot well be matched. It relates its story as plainly as if the actors spoke ; the very name of the work is unnecessary, for no one can look upon the living creatures by whom the canvas is peopled without sharing their emotions, and perceiving what they are about and what they are thinking. It is a cold winter day, we guess, by the close-hooded mother, and her poor boy warming his hands. A blind and wandering fiddler, with his wife and two children, has sought shelter or rest in a shoemaker s cottage, and as a requital for such hospitality, has taken his fiddle fi-om the case, screwed the pegs with a carefid hand, slanted his left cheek over the instrument hke a man who loves his craft, and is treating the family to one of his favourite tunes. The shoemaker's wife, pleased with the music, but still more so with her youngest child, is dandhng it on her knee, in unison to her husband's thumbs ; he is cracking them in quick time, for the tune is a lively one. Two children, a little in advance of their mother, are standing gazing with wondering eyes, marvelhng, no doubt, how one so old and blind produces such pleasing soimds ; the yoimgest, a boy, has stopped his go-cart, lest the sound of the wheels should hurt the harmony. Their elder brother, a sort of cottage Puck, just old enough to have shed two of his fi-out teeth, is mimicking with some skill the motions of the musician ; his fiddle is a ? THE BUND FIDDLER. pair of old bellows, his bow the poker, and his glee all his own. Behind him a servant girl, not a very lovely personage, has left her spinning-wheel, and is anxiously listening : with the sound perhaps her fancy has gone far away, to some merry scene, where she danced to the tune with a lad to her liking. The fiddler's wife listens . like one accustomed to such sounds ; and the shoemaker's father, who had given his seat to the musician, stands, like a grave grey-headed man, listening but not joyftil. All in the picture seems in keeping, save the fiddler's wife ; she is a coarse cummer, good enough, the painter may say, for a blind man, yet surely too old in her looks to be a " suckling mother." m<(Kt:;i ■: '!-vii:iMi!-i€ iiiii::-; rii.OAM. ST. MAKTIN DIVIDING HIS CLOAK. St. Martin, as a military saint, may be allowed a horse, armour, and weapons ; nor is there particular elegance of action required, perhaps, in dividing his cloak with a pubhc beggar ; we consider it, however, as necessary to nature and truth, that he should look at what his sword is doing, instead of which he is looking on the group of half-clad mendicants, who, with faces practised in expressing woe and dolour, have beset his path. He could not well choose to do otherwise, for the group is in all respects a remarkable one. The beggar, seated on the ground, enacting the part of a cripple, has a back Uke Hercules, powerful and sinewy, and seems altogether a sort of person likely to procure alms by force which refused to come through supplication ; the other kneeling, with his head bandaged to cover wounds, real or pretended, might do for a portrait of tlie ancient mendi- cant, Irus, who contested with Ulysses, on the threshold of his own palace, for the crumbs which fell from the table of the suitors ; but the woman seems in since- rity, her woes are not artificial and assumed, her naked children, haggard looks, and dishevelled hair, cannot fail to direct the Saint's hand to his pocket, as soon as he has disposed of the moiety of his cloak. The flush of colour, the fine freedom of handling, wonderful breadth of manner, and vigorous character of the original picture, have been admired by many : it is in Her Majesty's collection. Subjects of this nature are common to the earlier painters ; thej' were labourers in the cause of the church, gave form and colour to her creed, and explained her legends and her miracles in a manner so beautiful and noble, as to obtain the admiration of the world. They were behevers too in the wonders which they embodied ; the miracles of the Cathohc church had not been publicly questioned ; belief in divine influences and interpositions had not been abated by knowledge and scepticism ; and there can be no doubt that this aided in the inspiration, and helped to confer on those productions a shape and a hue all but divine. The first converts to Christianity among the barbarians were made by mystic signs and rehcs, nor were these laid aside when the missionaries acquired the language of their proselytes. Paintings and Statues and Crosses, the offspring of the relics and emblems, became as Scripture to the chiurch, and were seen by all, while the Bible and Testament were kept shut. Knowledge, which followed printing, opened the Scriptures to all nations : the sentiments and stories which painting 4 ST. MARTIN DIVIDING HIS CLOAK. and sculpture told, were no longer regarded ; the people desired to see what God had written, with their own eyes, and refused all further aid from science and fancy. It is to this we must ascribe the decreasing love for scripture pieces all over the world. No such works are necessary now " To justify the ways of God to man." One of the chief apostles for scripture pictures in this country was Northcote, the painter : he executed many altar-pieces, and wrote and spoke much in favour of an art, in which he believed he excelled. He, however, set down our coldness regarding such productions to the declining taste for historic painting, and the increasing love of the land for portraiture. Haydon too imputes our apathy to our defective taste : he will not see that the artist is not wanted ; we know as much of the word of God or of his apostles, as the ablest painter is likely to teach us, and we care not for either his interpretations or his glosses. Had we been dwelling in dark ignorance, we would have been thankful for any hand to let in light; but now we have light in abundance. There are other difficulties in the way — artists seem not sufficiently aware how doubtfiil a task it is •' To paint the finest features of the mind. And to most subtle and mysterious things Give colour, strength, and motion." Mere picturesque groups will not give us what we want ; we must have at least something as divine as aught that Raphael drew, and where is the artist whose genius is of such quality ! The scripture pieces of even the accomplished Rubens are deficient in that divinity of sentiment and majesty of conception which the subject demands. With all his wonderful power in character, vigorous freedom of hand, and almost miraculous glow of colour, he has failed in elevating us ; and looking at what Raphael and Michael Angelo have done, we see that he has more of earth in him and less of inspiration. There is no question that in his day, as the church had been obliged to take a step or two down from her high estate, that scripture painting had descended with her. Men of genius generally work in the spirit of then- time, especially those who have to live by their labours, and before the days of Rubens, the Pope, who foimerly held the keys of the regions of bliss or woe in his hand, had seen not only one half of his dominions separated firom him, but a reUgion which impugned his own, and called him by the opprobrious name of the " Anarch old," take field against him with other arms than those of logic and invec- tive. The charm which had bound the nations together began to dissolve ; that part of the spell, which had been wrought by art, was unloosed by knowledge, and we lost the chance of becoming the greatest of all nations in historic painting, by welcoming the Reformation, and preferring the Scripture in our English tongue, to pictures and statues. A . KY." MKF- THE JEW MERCHANT. REMBRANDT. The Advocate of Ostade is busy with eye and hand, the Merchant of Rembrandt is employed in mind only; he is in a rich garb of a somewhat Eastern cut ; he seems about to proceed to the Exchange on some serious speculation, and is holding converse with his own spirit before he goes forth. He is of Jewish ex- traction rather than a Jew ; he is advancing into the vale of years, and is of a grave considerate turn of mind ; the right hand grasps a staff, and the left hand rests upon it, and one would almost say he had been a soldier, for he handles it like a sword. The posture is easy, unaffected, and dignified ; the effect of the whole picture is fine ; there is more light admitted upon it than what is cus- tomary with Rembrandt. It belonged to the collection of Sh George Beaumont, and passed fi-om him by bequest to the National Gallery ; it measures four feet five inches high, by three feet five inches wide. A portrait of this stamp claims affinity with the historical ; the man of thought and business is written on it fi-om knee to brow. He is evidently a man of importance in his line, and if a Jew, may be of the race of David ; how much better it is that the painter represented him according to his station, than if he had turned him into an Elijah or an Isaiah, and given him a rapt, upturned look, with a halo round his head. He seems not to sit for his portrait, but to fonn a study for some grand historical composition, representing the chiefs of Israel met in council, when the ark of the Covenant was in the Temple and God was with her princes. Rembrandt was the son of a miller ; he loved to paint mills, and some have gone so far as to surmise that his first place of study was the dusty interior of one. This conjecture is founded on the strange light under which he chose to look on all subjects : through the contracted wickets of a mill, lights such as he loved come streaming when the sun is up, amid the dusky machinery. Be that as it may, the marvellous effect which he produced by this mode of treatment has dazzled the world and misled many students : they sigh for his vivid light and darkness, and seek those striking contrasts at the expense of nature and sentiment. They see only the effect in the works of Rembrandt, and refuse to learn that his power of expression is almost equal to it. This is indeed different from the assertion of Reynolds, who says that his attention was principally directed to colouring and effect ; the President places Rembrandt at the head b THE JEW MERCHANT. of the Dutch School, but allows him little other merit than astonishing force of colour. Some of his heads are as vigorous in expression — as unaffected and manly as human heads can well be. " His portraits," says Pilkington, " are confessedly excellent ; but by his being accustomed to imitate nature exactly, and the nature he imitated being always of the heavy kind, his portraits, though admirable in respect to hkeness and the look of life, want gr.ice and dignity in the airs and attitudes. In regard to other particulars he was so exact in giving the true resemblance of the persons who sat to him, that he distinguished the prominent feature and character in everj' face, without endeavouring to improve or embeUish it. Many of his heads dis- play such a minute exactness, as to show even the hairs of the beard and the wrinkles of old age ; yet, at a proper distance, the whole has an astonishing effect, and every portrait appears as if starting from the canvas. Thus, a picture of his maid-servant, placed at the window of his house in Amsterdam, is said to have deceived the passengers for several days. De Piles, when he was in Hol- land, not only ascertained the truth of this fact, but purchased the portrait, which he esteemed as one of the finest ornaments of his cabinet." The works of Rembrandt are remarkably rare, and when in the market bring incredibly high prices. Some of them are in the collections of British noble- men, and several are in the National Gallery, where their dark splendour attracts many eyes. His own portrait, painted by himself, is in the Ducal Gallery at Florence. He seems to have had a secret in the composition of his colours which no one has inherited : in the days of Raphael, and Rubens, and Vandyke, painters studied their colours as much as they did their compositions ; they made frequent experiments, and to this much of the unattainable lustre of their pictures must be owing. On the contraij', the artists of this age allow other hands to prepare their coloiurs, or when they condescend to do it themselves, they refuse to bestow the study upon them which the applause bestowed upon mere force of colour shows to be quite necessary. Colour-making is now a trade by itself, aid the splendour of our pictures is diminished. UNIVERSITY LANDSCAPE AND FIGURES. NICHOLAS BERGHEM. Berghem is numbered with those artists who sought to give to the school of Holland something of the airy elegance and grace of the Italian, and laboured to render natiure more poetic and poUshed. He was no lover of scenes of rustic excitement, where men, inflamed by drink and contradiction, become fierce and savage ; he loved the quiet, the retired, and the beautiful : his favouuite studies were the brook-banks, the budding trees, the browsing cattle, and the piping shepherd; he rejoiced in the songs of the birds, the ripening fields of grain, the freshening showei-s, and the rising sun, glancing on tree and town, all but con- scious of the life and lovehness below. The picture fi-om which this fine print is taken is the property of Beilby Thompson, Esq. M.P., and will go far to exemplify what we have said respecting the peculiar genius of the painter. The scene lies by a quiet lake, to the cool waters of which some cows and a little flock of sheep and goats have been driven, for the twofold purpose of giving them the pleasure of the shade of two or three old flourishing trees, and relieving them from their burthens of milk. An idle shepherd- boy Ues on the grass, a traveller with his ass and panniers is approaching, while the sun, scattering his splendour on the neighbouring hills, and on the remains of an old tower, makes his way through the foliage of the woods, and glimmers along the groimd, on which three maidens are busied with their cows and goats. The whole is strictly rural, and worthy of contemplation, from the repose given the spectator's eye and the sentiments of happiness awakened in his mind : this is one of the chief purposes of painting and poetry ; we turn not to the page of the poet, nor to the picture of the artist, to give pain to our hearts, and obtain an hour of misery. No ; we read and we look — shut our eyes on the world and its ways amid their natiu-al creations — and forget ourselves and are happy. Nicholas Berghem, the son of a painter of Uttle eminence, was born at Haer- lem in 1624,and was taught the first principles of the art in which he was destined to excel — first by his father, who could teach by precept though not by example, and finally, by Van Goyen, Jan Wills, and Weenix. " He had," says Pilkington, an easy and expeditious manner of painting, and an inexpressible variety and beauty in the choice of sites for his landscapes ; executing them with a surpris- ing degree of neatness and truth. He possessed a clearness and strength of 8 LANDSCAPE AND FIGURES. judgment, afld a wonderful power and ease of expressing his ideas; and though his subjects were of the lower kind, yet his choice of nature was judicious, and he gave to every subject as much of beauty and elegance as it would admit. The leafing of his trees is exquisitely and freely touched ; his skies are clear, and his clouds float hghtly as if supported by air. The distinguishing characters of his pictures are the breadth and just distribution of the hghts ; the grandeur of his masses of light and shadow; the natural care and simpUcity in the attitudes of his figm-es expressing their several characters ; the just gradation of his distances ; the brilliancy and harmony as well as the transparence of his colouring ; the correctness and true perspective of his design, and the elegance of his composition ; and where any of those marks are wanting no authority ought to be sufficient to ascribe any picture to him. Berghem was of a pleasant temper, his nature was like his landscapes, cheerfiil and quiet; he loved to sing at his easel, nor was he one who believed in the in- fluence of set times and seasons, for he rose early and painted late, and always wrought happily when in good health. He was a careful finisher of his works ; nature he said finished all hers with much minuteness, and artists ought not to be wiser in their own conceit than nature. His cows and his sheep, his trees and his flowers, his rocks and his hills, his valleys and his streams, are all exe- cuted with equal care and precision. One of his largest, some say one of his best pictures, was painted for the Chief Magistrate of Dort ; the scene was laid in a wild and mountainous country ; woods were scattered here and there, flocks of sheep spotted the uplands, streams sparkled as they ran, oxen ruminated on the brook-banks, shepherds and shepherd maidens reposed or watched their flocks, while over all the sun shed a light at once briUiant and gladsome, which seemed to cheer the cattle, and bestow Ufe and beauty on all. His pictures were in such demand, that the price was generally deposited with him before he put the canvas on the easel : they are rarely seen at sales, and always fetch high prices. He died in his native land in the year 1689. ?5K ■V^aiS.,A\NT MISTWESS. THE VIGILANT MISTRESS. ARNOLD MAAS. There are three painters of the name of Maas ; viz. Arnold, bom at Gouda, in 1623; Nicholas, bom at Dort, in 1632; and Dirk, bom at Haerlem, in 1656. Tlie first painted weddings, dances, and festive meetings ; the second was a painter of portraits, and as such was upbraided by Jordaens for submitting to the whims, the follies, and impertinencies of ignorant sitters ; and the third excelled in market scenes, and fruits and flowers, and lived some time in England, where he painted the Battle of the Boyne for the Earl of Portland. The picture from which the engraving of the Vigilant Mistress is copied be- longs to the collection of His Majesty ; it is the work of Arnold Van Maas ; and, like all the other productions of the Dutch school of art, is remarkable for the simplicity of its conception and the plainness of its stoiy. The scene is laid in the dwelling-house of a person in the middle rank of life : on one side of the picture a cellar-door stands open ; barrels of good home-brewed beer are ranged orderly along the walls ; two servants have been sent to tap an old cask, or make room for the admission of a new one. They have already extracted a quantity ; one of them has a glass at his lips, and is allowing the fine clear nut-brown ale to run slowly and enjoyingly in at an opening which can scarcely be called a mouth ; while the kitchen-maid, allured by the temptation of pleasant drink and social company, has left her broom on the floor, and is submitting with a demure patience to the fondling of a fellow-servant. A lantern on the top of the barrel sheds a glimmering light along the floor, and shines on the faces of the happy group. In the meantime the Vigilant Mistress, mistrusting her menials, and .suspecting the cause of their loitering, descends the stair as if she trod on eggs ; her finger is at her lip, and both ears are open ; another step and she is among them — another moment and they will know the penalty which awaits on the double fault of wasting her time and consuming her liquor. Of Maas little is known in England; he was a disciple of Teniers the younger, and acquired from his master a taste of imitating simple nature, and a desire to paint the scenes which the land around aflbrded. He loved to wander among farm-houses, villages, and country towns ; he called them his school of study, and the people whom he found busied in them, his sitters and his models. A wedding supplied him with many studies ; to a dance he was indebted for ease D 10 THK VIGILANT MISTRESS. and motion ; to a carousal he owed character and Ufe ; and if he saw half a dozen villagers gathered together, he loved to get near them and make sketches. By this way of going to work, he infused life and nature into his compositions. He excelled in scenes requiring spirit and humour. Having acquired distinction at home, he desu-ed to seek it abroad, and accordingly left Holland for Italy, where he travelled and studied several years. Of the masters whose works he consulted, or the cities which he visited, no one has told us ; the style in which he excelled seems not to require acquaintance with the masters of the poetical and the historic ; but he knew best — he doubtless felt the advantage of looking at the bright conceptions and grand harmonies of the Italian masters. The works of this aitist are far from numerous : Reynolds, in his tour through Holland, either did not see them or did not feel them ; he has not mentioned his name or alluded to his paintings. Maas excels in clear and brilliant colour- ing : he is fond too of strong contrasts, sudden gleams of hght amid thick dark- ness. He never equalled Teniers in his soft, sharp, brilliant touches, nor Jan Steen in his management of light and shadow ; but he acquired a name which will be long heard of for vivid presentations of nature, for simplicity of concep- tion, and a quiet sly humour. Holland is fiill of the pictures of her own masters : they are to be found in almost every house. " I have only to add," says Sir Joshua, " that in my account of the Dutch pictures, which is, indeed, httle more than a catalogue, 1 have mentioned only those which I considered worthy of attention. It is not to be supposed that these are the whole of the cabinets described ; perhaps in a collection of near a hundred pictures, not ten are set down ; their being mentioned at all, though no epithet may be added, implies excellence." It is plain from this, that the president considered only such pic- tures as he thought excellent worthy of attention; but there are many fine works which approach near excellence, and the Dutch galleries number some from the hand of Arnold Van Maas among them. The life of this artist was brief; he fell sick on his way home from Italy, and died in 1664, before he could show his countrymen any specimens of his im- proved taste and skill, or give his fame the advantage of his Italian studies. Many of his designs and drawings are preserved in the cabinets of the tasteful and the curious. His pictinres are scarce, and, like all rare things, bring high prices when exposed to sale. # ■»IIB YO'ilNG iUtlll THE YOUNG BULL. PAUL POTTKR. Many strange lessons may be read in the history ol' works of art ; they move about with the changes of fortune. Some of the pictures of Charles I. found their way into the hands of the republican leaders, others were disposed of in foreign lands, and not a few destroyed at home. We have, in our day, seen col- lections of the rarest kind dispersed to the four quarters of the world ; and on several occasions it has required a strong exertion of national feeling to hinder an Emperor of Russia, or a King of the Netherlands, from carrying away, by force of money alone, some of the very best paintings belonging to the richest country in the world. The beautiful picture, by Paul Potter, of which the en- gra\ang before us is a masterly copy, has undergone sundry vicissitudes of fortune ; the sum of twelve hundred guineas placed it in the suddenly-formed gallery of Watson Taylor, and there it seemed to have a chance of abiding/, when a wind from the west brought a change on its wings : the auctioneer invaded the sanctity of what he called the Chef-iToeuvres of the great masters, and the painting of the far-famed " Young Bull" was consigned to the collection of John Walter, Esq. of Bearwood. It is painted on panel, and measures four- teen inches and a half wide, by seventeen inches and a half high. The subject is simple : a bull, two cows, a stunted tree, a small knoll, and a clear sky, are the matters in hand ; but genius can find materials for its creations in common and familiar things. One beautiful cow lies on the grass ; she seems to have satisfied herself on the rich herbage around, and is desu-ous of quiet ; the other, of a darker colour, and of a different breed, turns round to meet the bull, who has just left the herd in the meadows, and is in the act of advancing ; his broad breast, square front, and budding horns are thus brought into the fore- ground. The group is natural and beautiful ; the whole seems eudowed with life and motion ; every vein and muscle are marked, and the variety of colour is touched in with wondrous felicity. The bull appears to be copied from a model which Potter made for a larger picture, now in the Museum at the Hague. The colour is a rich dark-brown, and the head of the animal is reckoned one of the happiest efforts of art. The pasture-land is finely painted ; the sky is clear, with light clouds scattered over it ; other animals are grazing in the neighbouring grounds ; on the right is the trunk of a tree, where two small birds are perching. ISe THE YOUNG BULL. and on a stile, which leads to other fields, is inscribed "Paulas Potter ; F. 1647." It belonged to the gallery of Burgo-Master Hoguer, and was brought to Erles- toke Park in 1817, and sold in the year 1832, along with many other noble pictures. There have been whole famiUes of artists in Holland : a correct eye, a clever hand, and a sound understanding, are more Ukely to be hereditary in a race than the higher faculty of imagination. Paul was the son of Peter Potter, an artist of some reputation, known in Enkhuysen, his native place, as a painter of landscapes and scriptiu-e pieces : his St. Paid the Hermit in the Desert, still exists, and is not without admirers ; but he is better known through the fame of his son, whose genius he had the merit of discovering. Paul studied under his father, and before he was fifteen years old, we are told by the biographers, his skill was such that men looked on him as a prodigy. From his father he soon perceived that he could learn Uttle ; this made him turn to nature ; he wandered about the fields making sketches ; he watched the hues of the woods, the changes in the colour of grass or com as the sun and wind passed over them j and he made himself acquainted with the looks, and forms, and ways of cattle. He had a quick hand, and unbounded patience ; he copied nothing from others ; he found nature to be the truest guide to life and originality ; and he pencilled in the trunks of trees, the blades of grass, and the " ring-straked, the speckled, and the spotted," among the cattle, with an elegance and an ease all but rival- ling life. " His subjects," says Pilkington, " were landscapes, with different animals, but principally cows, oxen, sheep, and goats, which he painted in the highest perfection. His colouring is soft, agreeable, transparent, and true to nature ; his touch is free and delicate, and his outline very correct. His skies, trees, and distances, show a remarkable freedom of hand, with a masterly ease and negli- gence ; and his animals are exquisitely finished, and touched with abundance of spirit. He was certainly one of the best painters in the Low Countries, not only for the delicacy of his pencil, but for his exact imitation of natiue, which he incessantly studied, and represented in a lovely manner. His only amuse- ment was walking in the fields, for the purpose of sketching every scene and object on the spot ; and he afterwards not only composed his subjects from his drawings, but frequently etched them, and the prints are deservedly very esti- mable." Fame is seldom obtained on easier terms than earnest and well-directed study. A happy verse or a clever picture may be hit off in a random fit of inspiration, but all lasting works are full of knowledge and obser\'ation, and show their authors to have been intimate with the world aromid, and with the human heait. It was the practice of Paul Potter to make small models in clay of his groups of cattle ; he admitted the light upon them, and, taking up his pencil, delineated THE YOUNG BULL, IS them in colours, distributing light and shade according to nature. Some ol our ablest painters follow the same practice ; Wilkie frequently satisfies himself of the accuracy of his groupings in the same way ; and the Juliet of Thomson, a work of great poetic merit, was first sketched in clay. But the impatience of the world for something new, compels artists to work hard, and hurry their pictures from the easel : one or two paintings, no more than one or two books, will give fame to a man in these our latter days ; the tree of imagination, which bears but a couple of apples, though the flavour may be celestial, is considered as barren. Nevertheless, future fame will hkely abide by those slowly-produced and well- considered things ; and this is worth the attention of all who desire to be heard of hereafter. ITie works of Paid Potter are far fi-om numerous ; they come seldom into the market, and when they make their appearance, the competition among men of taste to possess them is sharp and eager. He was born in 1625, and never moved out of Holland ; he found the materials of his landscapes in the country around him, and when he died, in 1654, all his works on hand were purchased, finished and unfinished. One landscape, painted for the Countess of Solms, brought two thousand florins : another landscape, with a Herdsman and Cattle, as large as life, was carried out of the Prince of Orange's gallery by the French, and placed in the Louvre. When the bayonets of the AlUes dispersed the col- lections of Napoleon, the pictiure disappeared, and is now probably in its original place. Our artists should study in the manner of Paul Potter; he refused to take the attitudes and character of his animals from paintings, however beautiful ; nor did he dash a picture hastily or carelessly off", however much it was wanted ; all with him is the offspring of study, yet all is nature. The exquisite skill and ability of his finish has been objected to, but the error is so rare, that it almost amounts to a virtue. In truth, nature finishes all her works with a patient and cunning hand ; the flowers of the fields, the leaves of the trees, the shells on the sea-shore, are all created with a precisi6n and beauty beyond the imitation of man. Those, however, who desire to approach her with the pencil, must consider her earnestly; they will see no imperfect developements of parts ; no want of harmony in her hues, and none of those hard, rigid, and coarse lines, which deform so many modern landscapes. THE QUEEN OF HEAETS. The works of this painter are not numerous in this country ; the picture before us belongs to the collection of Mr. Hargi-ave of Livei-pool. It tells its own story very clearly, and is in its nature domestic. Vangool has laid the scene during the grape season, for some fine large bunches are plucked and placed in a cooler; a cluster or two have already been used, for so the artist means to let us imderstand by strewing leaves on the floor. It is daytime, too, the sunhght is mild on the window, nor is hunting an amusement without its attractions, for a handsome greyhound seems ready for the chace. The house belongs to one of some condition ; the ceiling is high, the beams are neatly squared, and all has a substantial, if not an opulent look. The party who give life to this scene next merit attention ; four persons are at a table, two men and fwo women ; a man and a woman are engaged in a game at cai-ds ; the latter holds out the ace with an air of quiet triumph, nor is the former without his triumph too ; he has not j-et seen what his partner produces against him, but takes out the Queen of Hearts, and looking with a quiet consciousness in the face of a young lady beside him seems to say, with his eye, " What this is to the pack so you ai-e to me." A man in a dark cloak and the lady with the ace appeal- ignorant of all this bye-play, and it must be conlessed that the young lady, the object of so much attention, bears it with a sort of balanced equanimity of look ; she acknowledges the matter with her eyes, and rests content. The painter has impressed love, wine, and the chase on his picture ; all is simple, there are no elaborate auxiliaries. In scenes of this domestic nature the heart of England feels an interest; the grand or high historical seems almost a flight above common sympathy. We think portrait would work well in groups, such as this before us ; and let it be borne in mind, that our early painters set the example ; to go no higher than Hogarth, his conversation pieces, as he called them, though, perhaps, a little too literal, have great merit both in character and colour, and might be imitated by some acade- micians with advantage to themselves. It is all very well to have single heads when they are of any mark in the countiy, and can lay claim to something intel- lectual ; our Scotts, our Wordsworths, our Broughams, and our Wellingtons, need not be tied up in couples, nor yoked in conversation, but we cannot glance round the walls of our exhibition rooms without a consciousness that many heads there THE HJTTF.EN OJF 'IlEAElr: THE QUEEN OF HEARTS 15 require the additional charm which employment gives, to render them worthy of •a second look. In truth, to give an image of domestic hfe is to do something of a high order. The well-trimmed evening fire, and the well-ordered house, the more youthful part of the household busied in their various lessons, the elder about some thrifty employment, the eye of the matron superintending and directing all, and the head of the house, like Ossian's warrior, " on his own hill retired," pondering over the concerns of the day, or indulging himself with a book, an in- strument of music, or a game at cards, like the well-dressed gentleman in the work before us, would make a fair picture. Out of scenes such as life every hour presents, an artist of any fancy might work whole galleries ; half a dozen himian beings can take as many postures as so many bits of glass in a kaleidoscope. We were once present at the Exhibition when a plain common-sense-minded person, who knew httle about how pictures were produced, but was not insensible of their beauties when finished, entered into conversation with an artist of some name on the merits of the works around. The painter complained that the high- history pictures spread their colours and showed their groups in ^ ain to the world. " It is a very fine thing, no doubt," said his fiiend, " to look at a grand picture made up of princes and heroes, and heroines of other times — where life is given to those who died four thousand years ago. But such a picture is out of the reach of ordinary sympathies; what care I for Sesostris, Pharaoh Necho, or Ptolomy Philadelphus ? I can look on Mutius Scaevola and his deeds, or on the exploit of Curtius without any emotion. If you want to win my aifectious come into English history, and show me the actions of heroes ; there you can charm me, unless you choose to paint the druids or the kings of the Saxon Heptarchy. You laugh and think because I care nothing for your Egyptians or Romans that I admire yonder great grey cart-horse, larger than life, so splendidly framed, and fiUing up one side of the room : no ! I can see a horse at any time almost that I choose to look out of my window, so there was no use in bringuig the prodigious brute here — had you clapt a warrior on his back, or put him into a gallop, the thing had been better ; a horse at fiiU speed, an eagle in fiill flight, and a man thinking are three noble things. Nor can I admire some of these landscapes ; trees don't think, and meadows express no sentiment, and that crow flying over them can at the best but croak. I can see such matters without frames, for they are constantly before my eyes. But look at this little picture ; a young shepherd plays on his pipe, his dog looks up well pleased, that shepherdess has an air of grave dcliglit, this one tosses her head, disposed to mock both music and musician. — The pictiure is of man, and so I like it." THE DEATH OF CLEOPATRA. GUIDO EENI. The Cleopatra of Shakspeare and this fine picture seem, in some important points, to have sprung from the same imagination. Had the poet been a pamter, he would have likely taken the simpler and sterner sentiment delineated so ably by the artist ; and had Guido taken up the pen, he might have anticipated a page of the great dramatist — exchanging his own air of severity for the more womanly and voluptuous representation of the other. Still the conception of the painter might pass for an embodiment of this fine passage : the reader will remember that it occurs immediately after the clown has brought in the asp in the basket of figs, and departs, wishing Cleopatra " joy of the worm." " Give me my robe, put on my crown ; I liave Immortal longings in me : now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip : — Yare, yare, good Iras ; quick. Methinks, I hear Antony call ; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act ; I hear him mock The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men To excuse their after- wrath : Husband, I come: Now to that name my courage prove my title ! I am fire, and air ; my other elements I give to baser life.— 'So, — have you done ? Come, then, and take the last warmth of my lips. Farewell, kind Charmian ; — Iras, long farewell. [Kisses them. Iras falls and diet Have I the aspick in my lips ? Dost fall ? If thou and nature can so gently part. The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, Which hurts and is desired Tliis proves me base : If she first meet the curled Antony, He'll make demand of her, and spend that kiss. Which is my heaven to have. — Come, mortal wretch, [ To the asp, which she applies to her brcatt. With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate Of life at once untie : poor venomous fool, Be angry and despatch. O, could'st thou speak ! That I might hear thee call great Caesar, ass Unpolicied. CL.'eopat: ,f THE DEATH OF CLEOPATRA. 17 The picture is in the collection of her majesty, and is considered a fine example of the graceful yet impressive style of the great artist. Guido Reni was born at Bologna, in the year 1574. While yet a boy, he be- came the scholar of Denis Calvert : and, when some sixteen years old, he en- tered the school of the Caracci, and excited, by his extraordinary talents, the jealousy of the two eminent brothers who founded that school of art. The biographers assert that Lodovico set up Guercino against him as a rival, and that Annibale, in the same ungenerous spirit, censured Albano for introducing Guido as a disciple. The dislike of the Caracci may be accounted for in a less injurious way. The new disciple worshipped other gods, and refiised to be a follower. He imitated Passerotti and Caravaggio ; and this was not likely to be welcome to men who aspired to be creators of a new style in painting. Other writers, however, affirm that, in his earlier compositions, he had the works of the Caracci in his mind, and that Annibale felt and acknowledged the originality of his genius. " In some instances," says Lanzi, " he followed Caravaggio ; and in the Bonfigliuoli Palace is a figm-e of a sybil, very beautiful in point of features, but greatly overlaid with depth of shade. The style he adopted arose particularly from an observation on that of Caravaggio, one day incidentally made by Annibale Caracci, that to his manner there might be opposed one wholly contrary : in place of a confined and declining light, to exhibit one more full and \'ivid ; to substitute the tender for the bold ; to oppose clear outlines to his indistinct ones ; and to introduce for his low and common figures, those of a more select and beautifiil kind." Such is the story of the conversion of Guido, from the style of the Caracci and Caravaggio ; in other words, he discovered, by accident or meditation, a new way to fame, more akin to his own natinral taste and feelings than the old, and firom that moment adopted and pursued it with success. Of the stem and the severe, he conceived the world had enough ; he desired to try the efiect of the sweet, the graceful, and the tender. The public acknowledged at once the love- liness of variety, and the fame of Guido was diffused over Europe. " Sweetness was his great object," says Lanzi ; " he sought it equally in design, in the touch of his pencil, and in colouring; fi-om that time he began to make use of white lead, a colour avoided by Lodovico, and at the same time predicted the dura- bility of his tints, such as they have proved. He still preserved that strength of style so much aimed at by his school, while he softened it with more than its usual delicacy ; and, by degrees, proceeding in the same direction, he in a few years attained to the degree of deUcacy he had proposed. In these variations, however, he never lost sight of that exquisite ease which so much attracts us in his works." "The grace of Guido" has become proverbial. He studied youthful loveli- ness with unremitting care ; he made himself familiar with the most natural and becoming turns of the head and positions of the body, and to all he added that 18 THE DEATH OF CLEOPATRA. softness, and elegance, and angelic air, which induced Passeri to declare that his faces were those of Paradise. To the admiration of living nature he united the study of antique sculpture. The Medicean Venus and the Niobe were his favourite models. Nor did he limit his studies to these : from Raphael, Correggio, Parmi- gianino, and more particularly from Paul Veronese, he gathered beauties of all kinds ; nor did he copy what he loved with a servile hand. In all that he touched there is observed a happy freedom of handling, an air alluring and sweet, and an original and abstract principle of beauty which belonged to himself alone ; nay, it was Ills boast, that he could extract grace and loveliness out of the commonest form and most sordid expression. For one of his Magdalens, he caused a colour-grinder, a person vulgar almost to deformity, to sit, and exerting his all but miraculous skill, produced a lovely creation, yet exhibiting as much of the sitter as amounted to portraiture. The works of this eminent painter are numerous. Critics have traced his sense of the beautiM to the elegance of his own person, saying that the man is always to be found in his works. That he was handsome may be inferred from Lodovico Caracci employing him as a model whenever he had an angel to paint. But though his pictures are to be found in every collection where the beautiful is admitted, they are seldom to be acquired by purchase. When a head with the Guido stamp upon it comes into the market, it is bought up at a high price. When Arpino was asked his opinion of Guide's performances in the Capella Quirinale, he repUed, " Other pictures are made by men's hands, but these are made by hands divine." In his latter days a love of gaming canied him too fre- quently from his easel ; it did more — it reduced him from aflBuence to povertv, and brought on a dejection of spirits and a languishing disorder, under which he sunk, at his native Bologna, in the sixty -eighth year of his age. THE APrKABANJ'E OF CilfajST TO ST PETEB. CHRIST APPEARING TO ST. PETER. ANMBALE CARACCI. This fine picture is not scriptural, as some have imagined : it embodies a tra- dition of the Romish Church. The New Testament tells us that Chiist, after Jiis resurrection, appeared to St. Peter : but it was more consistent with the aim and practice of the church, when losing its simplicity, to give currency to ob- scure or doubtful legends, rather than draw attention to the ti-ue and accredited narrative of the gospel. Peter, says the tracUtion, not finding at the time any liking for martyrdom, made his escape from Rome, and was hurrying along the Appian way, when he met Jesus bearing the Cross, " Lord, where goest thou f " inquired the astonished saint ; " I am going to Rome to be crucified a second time," was the answer, " for I find that my disciples are afraid of attesting the truth of my cause with their blood." The rebuked saint returned and suflFered martyrdom. The legend is a very beautiful one ; it is in keeping with the timid character of Peter ; and seniceable too to the church of Rome, which claimed supremacy over all Christian churches. Those who imagined the legend, found an admirable interpreter in Caracci : it is admitted by very fastidious critics that this picture is one of the best studied and effective of all his performances in this countrj-. Annibale excelled in the serenely graceful — in an austere simplicity which too few have imitated. The Christ of this picture is an example of this : he is equally elegant in form, and divine in expression, and the action is perfectly simple and natural — there is no straining to make the body aid the mind. There is a deep lustre of colour also ; almost, as an artist said, more than mortal ; it is scarcely of this world, and reminds us of the super-human hues of the " Christ in the Garden" of Correggio. The fine colouring is not thought superior to the consummate skill displayed in the fore-shortening of the figure : the advancuig posture, the moving limbs, and the extended arm, are the wonder of all artists whose eyes are not closed by vanity on all excellence save their own. Of the general impression which this fine vision makes, Ottley says, " The effect is not more the result of the correctness of that figure in respect of outline and lineal perspective, than of the judicious arrangement of its lights and shadows." The rest of the picture has many beauties : the landscape which forms the back- ground, would make any living artist a fair reputation alone : St. Peter has a re- 20 CHRIST APPEARING TO PETER. • bilked and startled air : the propriety of his postnre has been questioned ; but it seems consistent enough — he is represented suddenly receding, as from a vision which had burst upon him at once — nay, he is about