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sion of delight and surprise at the ness and bustle of the back-ground, sounds he produces is not to be sur- We think this one of the best pictures passed. The only image we would on so large a scale that we are anyventure to compare with it for inno- where acquainted with. The whole cent artless voluptuousness, is that management of the design has a very of the shepherd-boy in Sir Philip noble and imposing effect, and each Sidney's Arcadia, “ piping as though part severally will hear the closest he should never be old!” A com- scrutiny. It is a magnificent structure parison of this sort, we believe, may built of solid and valuable materials be made, in spite of the proverb, The artist has not relied merely on without injustice to the painter or the extent of his canvas, or the imthe poet. Both gain by it. The portance of his subject, for producing idea conveyed by the one, perhaps, a striking result, the effect is proreceives an additional grace and duced by an aggregate of excellent lustre, while a more beautiful moral parts. The hands, the feet, the drasentiment hovers round the other, pery, the heads, the features, are all from thinking of them in this casual fine. There is some satisfaction in connection. If again it be asked, looking at a large historical picture, Which is the most admirable ?--we such as this: for you really gain in should answer-Both are equally ex- quantity, without losing in quality ; quisite in their way, and yield the and have a studious imitation of inimagination all the pleasure it is ca- dividual nature, combined with maspable of and decline giving an invi- culine invention, and the compredious preference to either. The cup can hensive arrangement of an interest. only be full. The young shepherd in ing story. The Lazarus is very fine the Arcadia wants no outward grace and bold. The flesh is well-baked, to recommend him; the stripling dingy, and ready to moulder from God no hidden charm of expression. the touch, when it is liberated from The language of painting and poetry its dread confinement to have life is intelligible enough to mortals; the and motion impressed on it again. spirit of both is divine, and far too He seems impatient of restraint, gagood for him, who, instead of enjoying zes eagerly about him, and looks out to the utmost height, would find an from his shrouded prison on this new unwelcome flaw in either. The world with hurried amazement, as SILENUS AND APOLLO has something if Death had scarcely yet resigned of a Raffaellesque air, with a mixture his power over the senses. We would of Correggio's arch sensibility—there wish our artists to look at the legs is nothing of Titian in the colour and feet of this figure, and see how though Annibal Caracci was in the- correctness of finishing and a greatory a deserter from the first to the ness of gusto in design are compatilast two of these masters; and swore ble with, and set off each other. The an oath, in a letter to his uncle Lu- attendant female figures have a pedovico, that “they were the only culiar grace and becoming dignity, true painters !”

both of expression and attitude. We should nearly have exhausted They are in a style something beour stock of enthusiasm in descanting tween Michael Angelo and Parmeon these two compositions, in almost giano. They take a deep interest in any other case; but there is no dan- the scene, but it is with the air of ger of this in the present instance. composure proper to the sex, who If we were at any loss in this res- are accustomed by nature and duty pect, we should only have to turn to to works of charity and compassion. the large picture of the Raising Of The head of the old man, kneeling LAZARUS, by Sebastian del Piombo; behind Christ, is an admirable study and still walking under,

of drawing, execution, and characFind some new matter to look

ter. The Christ himself is grave and wonder.

earnest, with a noble and impressive

countenance; but the figure wants We might dwell on the masterly that commanding air which ought to breadth of the drawing, the grace- belong to one possessed of preterfulness of the principal female figures, natural power, and in the act of disthe high-wrought execution, the playing it. Too much praise cannot deep, rich, mosaic colouring, the airi- be given to the back-ground-the

up and

a

green and white draperies of some have taken half a year to complete, old people at a distance, which are as we wonder how the same painter airy as they are distinct-the build- could find time to execute his Cartoons, ings like tombs-and the different the compartments of the Vatican, groups, and processions of figures, and a thousand other, matchless which seem to make life almost as works. The same account serves grave and solemn a business as death for both. The more we do, the more itself

. This picture is said by some we can do. Our leisure (though it to have been designed by Michael may seem a paradox) is in propora Angelo, and painted by Sebastian tion to our industry. The same hadel Piombo, in rivalship of some of bit of intense application, which led Raphael's works. It was in the Ore our artist to bestow as much pains and leans Gallery,

attention on the study of a single head, Near this large historical composi- as if his whole reputation depended on tion stands (or is suspended in a it, enabled him to set about the greatcase) a single head, by Raphael, of est works with alacrity, and to finish Pope Julius II. It is in itself a Col- them with ease. If he had done any lection—a world of thought and cha- thing he undertook to do, in a slovenracter. There is a prodigious weight ly disreputable manner, he woull and gravity of look, combined with (upon the same principle) have lain calm self-possession, and easiness of idle half his time. Zeal and dilitemper. It has the cast of an Eng- gence, in this view, make life, short, lish countenance, which Raphael's as it is, long.–Neither did Raphael, portraits often have, Titian's never. it should seem, found his historical In Raphael's the mind, or the body, pretensions on his incapacity to paint frequently prevails; in Titian's you a good portrait. On the contrary, always see the soul--faces “ which the latter here looks very much like pale passion loves.” Look at the the corner-stone of the historical ediMusic-piece by Titian, close by in fice. Nature did not put him out. this Collection-it is “all ear," -the He was not too great' a genius to expression is evanescent as the sounds copy what he saw. He probably the features are seen in a sort of thought that a deference to nature is dim chiaro scuro, as if the confused the beginning of art, and that the impressions of another sense inter- highest eminence is scaled by single vened—and you might easily suppose steps ! some of the performers to have been Ôn the same stand as the portrait engaged the night before in

of Julius II. is the much vaunted

Correggio-the Christ in the Garden. Mask or midnight serenade, Which the starved lover to his mistress The drapery of the Christ is highly

We would not give a farthing for it. sings,

finished in a silver and azure toneBest quitted with disdain. *

but high finishing is not all we ask The ruddy, bronzed colouring of from Correggio. It is more worthy Raphael generally takes off from any of Carlo Dolce.-Lest we should forappearance of nocturnal watching get it, we may mention here, that and languid hectic passion! The the admired portrait of Golvarcius portrait of Julius II. is finished to a was gone to be copied at Somersetgreat nicety. The hairs of the beard, house. The Academy have then, at the fringe on the cap, are done by mi- length, fallen into the method purnute and careful touches of the pen- sued at the British Gallery, of recil. In seeing the labour, the consci- commending the students to copy entious and modest pains, which this from the Old MASTERS. Well great painter bestowed upon his better late than never:

This same smallest works, we cannot help be- portrait is not, we think, the truest ing struck with the number and mag- specimen of Vandyke. It has not his nitude of those he left behind him. mild, pensive, somewhat effeminate When we have a single portrait cast of colour and expression. His placed before us, that might seem to best portraits have an air of faded

We like this picture of a Concert the best of the three by Titian in the same room. The other two are a Ganymede, and a Venus and Adonis ; the last does not appear to us from the hand of Titian.

gentility about them. The Golvar- then we will tell them, he could do cius has too many streaks of blood- far finer things than these! colour, too many marks of the pen- There is one Rembrandt, and one cil, to convey an exact idea of N. Poussin. The Rembrandt (the Vandyke's characteristic excellence; Woman taken in Adultery) is prodigithough it is a fine imitation of Ru- ous in colouring, in light and shade, bens's florid manner. Vandyke's in pencilling, in solemn effect; but most striking portraits are those that is nearly allwhich look just like a gentleman or

Of outward show lady seen in a looking-glass, and neither more nor less.

Elaborate, of inward less exact. Of the Claudes, we prefer the St. Nevertheless, it is worth any money. Ursula--the embarking of the Five The Christ has considerable seriousThousand Virgins--to the others. ness and dignity of aspect. The The water is exquisite; and the sails marble pavement, of which the light of the vessels glittering in the morning is even dazzling; the figures of the sun, and the blue flags placed against two Rabbis to the right, radiant with the trees, which seem like an open- crimson, green, and gold; the backing into the sky behind-so sparkling ground, which seems like some rich is the effect of this ambiguity in co- oil-colour smeared over a ground of louring—are in Claude's most per- gold, and where the eye staggers on fect manner.

The Altieri Claude one abyss of obscurity after another, (the sacrifice of Isaac) is one of his place this picture in the first rank of noblest and most classical composi, Rembrandt's wonderful performances. tious, with towers, and trees, and If this extraordinary genius was the streams, and flocks, and herds, and most literal and vulgar of draughtsdistant sunny vales,

men, he was the most ideal of co

lourists. When Annibal Caracci Where universal Pan, Knit with the Giraces and the Hours, in dance, vowed to God, that Titian and CorLeads on the eternal spring :

reggio were the only true painters,

he had not seen Rembrandt ;- if he but the effect of the execution has had, he would have added him to been deadened and rendered obtuse the list. The Poussin is a Dance of by time or ill-usage. There is a dull, Bacchanals: theirs are not “ pious formal appearance, as if the different orgies.” It is, however, one of this masses of sky, of water, &c. were master's finest pictures, both in the laid on with plates of tin or lead. spirit of the execution, and the inThis is not a general defect in Claude: genuity and equivoque of the invenhis landscapes have the greatest tion. If the purity of the drawing quantity of inflection, the most de- will make amends for the impurity licate brilliancy, of all others. A of the design, it may pass: assuredlady had been making a good copy ly, the same subject, badly executed, of the Seaport, which is a companion would not be endured; but the life to the one we have described. We of mind, the dexterity of combinado not think these Claudes, famous tion displayed in it, supply the want as they are, equal to Lord Egre- of decorum. The old adage, that mont's Jacob and Laban; to the En- “ Vice, by losing all its grossness, chanted Castle; to a green vernal loses half its evil,” seems chiefly apLandscape, which was in Walsh Por- plicable to pictures. Thus a naked ter's Collection, and which was the figure, that has nothing but its very finest we ever saw; nor to some nakedness to recommend it, is not others that have appeared from time fit to be hung up in decent apartto time in the British Institution. We ments. If it is a Nymph by Titian, are sorry to make this, which may Correggio's lö, we no longer think of be thought an ill-natured, remark: its being naked; but merely of its but, though we have a great respect sweetness, its beauty, its naturalfor Mr. Angerstein's taste, we have a ness. So far art, as it is intellectual, greater for Claude Lorraine's reputa- has a refinement and extreme unction. Let any persons admire these tion of its own. Indifferent pictures, specimens of his art as much as they like dull people, must absolutely be will (and the more they admire them, moral! We suggest this as a hint to the more we shall be gratified), and those persons of more gallantry than

a

discretion, who think that to have most splendid, and, at the same time, an indecent daub hanging up in one most solid and sharply finished procorner of the room, is a proof of a ductions. liberality of gusto, and a considerable Mr. Wilkie's ALEHOUSE Doog is progress in virtù. Tout au contraire. here, and deserves to be here. Still

We have a clear, brown, woody it is not his best ; though there are Landscape by Gaspar Poussin, in his some very pleasing rustic figures, fine determined style of pencilling, and some touching passages in which gives to earth its solidity, and it. As in his Blind-MAN's-Burr, to the air its proper attributes. There the groups are too straggling, and are, perhaps, no landscapes that ex- spread over too large a surface of cel his in this fresh, healthy look of bare fore-ground, which Mr. Wilkie nature. One might say, that where- does not paint well. It looks more ever his pencil loves to haunt, “ the like putty than earth or clay. The air is delicate." We forgot to no- artist has a better eye for the indivitice a St. John in the Wilderness, dual details than for the general tone by A. Caracci, which has much of of objects. Mr. Liston's face in this the autumnal tone, the “ sear and “ flock of drunkards" is a smiling yellow leaf,” of Titian's landscape failure. compositions. A Rape of the Sa- A portrait of Hogarth, by himself, bines, in the inner room, by Rubens, and Sir Joshua's half-length of Lord is, perhaps, the most tasteless pic- Heathfield, hang in the same room. ture in the Collection : to see plump, The last of these is certainly a fine florid viragos struggling with bearded picture, well composed, richly coruffians, and tricked out in the flounces, loured, with considerable character, furbelows, and finery of the court of and a look of nature. Nevertheless, Louis XIV. is preposterous. But his pictures, seen among standard there is another Rubens in the outer works, have (to speak it plainly) room, which, though fantastical and something old-womanish about them. quaint, has qualities to redeem all By their obsolete and affected air faults. It is an allegory of himself they remind one of antiquated ladies and his three wives, as a St. George of quality, and are a kind of Duchessand Holy Family, with his children, Dowagers in the art-somewhere beas Christ and St. John, playing with tween the living and the dead. a lamb; in which he has contrived to Hogarth's series of the MARRIAGE bring together all that is rich in A LA MODE (the most delicately dresses, (black as jet, and shining like painted of all his pictures, and addiamonds,) transparent in flesh-co- mirably they certainly are painted) lour, agreeable in landscape, un- concludes the Catalogue Raisonnée of fettered in composition. The light this Collection.-A study of Heads, streams from rosy clouds, the breeze by Correggio, and some of Mr. Fucurls the branches of the trees in the seli's stupendous figures from his back-ground, and plays on the clear Milton Gallery, are on the staircomplexions of the various scattered group. It is one of this painter's

W. H.

case.

MIDNIGHT.

Tomttood Unfathomable Night ! how dost thou sweep

Over the flooded earth, and darkly hide

The mighty city under thy full tide,
Making a silent palace for old Sleep;
Like his own Temple under the hush'd deep,

Where all the busy day he doth abide,
And, forth at the late dark, outspreadeth wide
His dusky wings whence the cold waters weep!
How peacefully the living million lie!

Luli'd unto death beneath his poppy spells ;-
There is no breath-no living stir-no cry-

No tread of foot--no song -no music-call-
Only the sound of melancholy bells

The voice of Time, Survivor of them all!

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A FEW WORDS ON “ CHRISTMAS.” CLOSE the shutters, and draw the (It was the winter wild, curtains together, and pile fresh wood When the heaven-born child upon the hearth! Let us have, for All meanly wrapp'd in the rude manger lay :) once, an innocent auto da . Let a prodigy, which, had it been inthe hoarded corks be brought forth, vention only, would have contained and branches of crackling laurel. much that was immaculate and subPlace the wine and fruit and the hot lime; but, twined as it is with man's chesnuts upon the table. And now, hopes and fears, is invested with a good folks and children, bring your grand and overwhelming interest. chairs round to the blazing fire. Put But to-night is Christmas Eve, and some of those rosy apples upon your so we will be merry. Instead of plates. We'll drink one glass of toast and ale, we will content ourbright sherry, " to our absent friends selves with our sherry and chesnuts; and readers," and then let us talk a and we must put up with coffee or little about Christmas.

fragrant tea, instead of having the And what is Christmas ?

old Wassail-bowl which formed part Why, it is the happiest time of the of the inspiration of our elder poets. year. It is the season of mirth and We were once admitted to the myscold weather. It is the time when teries of that fine invention, and we Christmas-boxes and jokes are given; respect it accordingly. Does any one when mistletoe, and red-berried lau wish to know its merits ? Let him rel, and soups, and sliding, and try what he can produce, on our hint, school-boys, prevail; when the coun- and be grateful to us for ever. The try is illuminated by fires and bright “Wassail-bowl” is, indeed, a great faces; and the town is radiant with composition. It is not carved by laughing children. Oranges, as rich Benvenuto Cellini (the outside may, as the fruit of the Hesperides, shine --but it is not material), nor shaped out in huge golden heaps. Cakes, by Michael Angelo from the marble frosted over (as if to rival the glitter- quarries of Carrara ; but it is a liquor ing snow) come forth by thousands fit for the lips of the Indian Bacchus, from their summer (caves) ovens: and worthy to celebrate his retum and on every stall at every corner of from conquest. It is made for, every street are the roasted apples, after all, we must descend to partilike incense fuming on Pagan altars. culars—it is made of wine, with

And this night is CHRISTMAS Eve. some water (hut parce, precor, preFormerly it was a serious and holy cor!) with spices of various sorts, and vigil. Our forefathers observed it roasted apples, which float in triumph strictly till a certain hour, and then upon its top. The proportions of requited their own forbearance with each are not important-in fact, they cups of ale and Christmas candles, should be adapted to the taste of the with placing the yule clog on the fire, drinkers. The only caution that and roaring themselves thirsty till seems necessary is to morning Time has altered this. water.” If the compositor should We are neither so good as our fore- live in the neighbourhood of Aldgate, fathers were—nor so bad. We go to this hint may be deemed advisable; bed sober ; but we have forgotten though we mean no affront to either their old devotions. Our conduct him or the pump. looks like a sort of compromise, so One mark and sign of Christmas is that we are not worse than our an- the music ; rude enough, indeed, but cestors, we are satisfied not to be generally gay, and speaking, elobetter : but let that pass.-What we quently of the season. Music, at now call Christmas Eve-(there is festival times, is common to most something very delightful in old countries. In Spain, the serenader terms : they had always their birth twangs his guitar : in Italy, the muin reason or sentiment) was formerly sician allures rich notes from bis CreMædrenack, or The Night of Mo- mona: in Scotland, the bagpipe thers ! How beautifully does this re- drones out its miserable noise : in cal to one's heart that holy tale - Germany, there is the horn, and the that wonderful nativity, which the pipe in Arcady. We too, in our eastern shepherds went by night to turn, have our Christmas " Waits," gaze at and adore

who witch us at early morning, be

spare the

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