a jects of art before us, or sympathise Near it is a Group of Angels, said to with the approving gaze of the be by Correggio. The expressions greater beauty around us, it is well; are grotesque and fine, but the cothere is a feeling of luxury and re- louring does not seem to us to be his. finement in the employment; but The texture of the flesh, as well as take out a pocket-book, and begin the hue, too much resembles the skin to scribble notes in it, the date of the of ripe fruit. We meet with several picture, the name, the room, some fine landscapes of the two Poussins, paltry defect, some pitiful discovery particularly one of a rocky eminence (not worth remembering), the non- by Gaspar, in the room before you essentials, and the mechanic common- come to the Rembrandts, in which places of the art, and the sentiment the mixture of grey rock and green is gone-you show that you have a trees and shrubs is beautifully mafarther object in view, a job to exe- naged, with striking truth and clearcute, a feeling foreign to the place, ness. and different from that of every one Among detached and smaller picelse-you become a butt and a mark tures, we would wish to point out to for ridicule to the rest of the com- the attention of our readers, an expany-and you retire with your quisite head of a Child, by Andrea pockets full of wisdom from a saloon del Sarto, and a fine Salvator in of art with as little right as you have the inner room of all-in the room to carry off the dessert, or what you leading to it, a pleasing, glassy have not been able to consume, from Cuyp, an airy, earthy-looking Teniers, an inn, or a caravansera. Such, at and A Mother and Sleeping Child, least, is our feeling; and we had ra- by Guido in the Saloon, a St. Cather make a mistake now and then, therine, one of Parmegiano's most as to a numero, or the name of a room graceful pictures; a St. Agnes, by in which a picture is placed, than Domenichino, full of sweetness, spoil our whole pleasure in looking thought, and feeling; and two picat a fine Collection, and consequently tures, by Raphael, that look_as if the pleasure of the reader in learning painted on paper-a Repose in Egypt, what we thought of it. and St. Luke painting the Virgin, Among the pictures that haunt our both admirable for drawing and exeye in this way is the Adorution of pression, and a rich, purple, crayon the Angels, by N. Poussin. It is one tone of colouring. Wherever Raof his finest works-elegant, graceful, phael is, there is grace and dignity, full of feeling, happy, enlivening and an informing soul. In the last It is treated rather as a classical than mentioned room, near the entrance, as a sacred subject. The Angels are is also a Conversion of St. Paul, by more like Cupids than Angels. They Rubens, of infinite spirit, brilliancy, are, however, beautifully grouped, and delicacy of execution. with various and expressive attitudes, But it is in the large room to the and remind one, by their half antic, right, that the splendour and power half serious homage, of the line- of Rubens reign triumphant and Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies. unrivalled, and yet he has here to They are laden with baskets of contend with highest works and flowers—the tone of the picture is The four large pictures of rosy, florid ; it seems painted at ecclesiastical subjects, the Meeting The breezy call of incense-breathing mom, thering of Manna, the Evangelists, of Abram and Melchisedec, the Gaand the angels overhead sport and and the Fathers of the Church, have gambol in the air with butterfly- no match in this country for scenic wings, like butterflies. It is one of pomp, and dazzling airy effect. The those rare productions that satisfy figures are colossal; and it might be the mind, and from which you turn said, without much extravagance, away, not from weariness, but from that the drawing and colouring are a fulness of delight.-— The Israelites 80 too.* He seems to have painted returning Thanks in the Wilderness is with a huge sweeping gigantic pena fine picture, but inferior to this. cil, and with broad masses of unal • We heard it well said the other day, that “ Rubens's pictures were the palette Titian." names. loyed colour. The spectator is (as placed in the proper position, being it were) thrown back by the pic- supposed to give the last finishing. tures, and surveys them, as if placed Near the Irion of Rubens is an hisat a stupendous height, as well as torical female figure, by Guido, distance from him. This, indeed, is which will not bear the comparison their history: they were painted to for transparency and delicacy of be placed in some Jesuit's church tint with the two Junos. Rubens abroad, at an elevation of forty or was, undoubtedly, the greatest scenefifty feet, and Rubens would have painter in the world, if we except started to see them in a drawing- Paul Veronese, and the Fleming room or on the ground. Had he was to him flat and insipid. “ It is foreseen this result, he would, per- place which lessens and sets off.” haps, have added something to the We once saw two pictures of his correctness of the features, and taken hung by the side of the Marriage of something from the gorgeous crude- Cana in the Louvre; and they looked ness of the colour. But there is nothing. The Paul Veronese nearly grandeur of composition, involution occupied the side of a large room of form, motion, character in its vast, (the modern French exhibitionrude outline, the imposing contrast room) and it was like looking through of sky and flesh, fine grotesque heads the side of a wall, or at a splendid of old age, florid youth, and fawn- banquet and gallery, full of people, like beauty. You see nothing but and full of interest. The texture of patriarchs, primeval men and women, the two Rubenses was woolly, or walking among temples, or treading flowery, or sattiny: it was all alike; the sky—or the earth, with an “ air but in the Venetian's great work the and gesture proudly eminent,” as if pillars were of stone, the floor was they trod the sky-when man first marble, the tables were wood, the rose from nothing to his native sub- dresses were various stuffs, the sky limity. We cannot describe these was air, the flesh was flesh; the pictures in their details: they are groups were living men and women. one staggering blow after another of Turks, emperors, ladies, painters, the mighty hand that traced them. musicians, all was real, dazzling, All is cast in the same mould, all is profuse, astonishing. It seemed as if filled with the same spirit, all is clad the very dogs under the table might in the same gaudy robe of light. get up and bark, and that at the Rubens was at home here; his forte sound of a trumpet the whole aswas the processional, the showy, sembly might rise and disperse in and the imposing ; he grew almost different directions, in an instant. drunk and wanton with the sense of This picture, however, was consihis power over such subjects; and dered as the triumph of Paul Verohe, in fact, left these pictures un- nese, and the two by the Flemish finished in some particulars, that, for artist that hung beside it were very the place and object for which they inferior to some of his, and assuredly were intended, they might be per- to those now exhibited in the Gala fect. They were done (it is said) lery at Lord Grosvenor's. Neither for tapestries from small designs, and do we wish by this allusion to discarried nearly to their present state parage Rubens; for we think him of finishing by his scholars. There on the whole a greater genius, and a is a smaller picture in the room, greater painter, than the rival we Irion embracing the false Juno, which have here opposed to him, as we points out and defines their style of may attempt to show when we come art and adaptation for remote effect. to speak of the Collection at BlenThere is a delicacy in this last pic- heim. ture (which is, however, of the size There are some divine Claudes in of life) that makes it look like a the same room; and they too are miniature, in comparison. The flesh like looking through a window at a of the women is like lilies, or like select and conscious landscape. There milk strewed upon ivory. It is soft are five or six, all capital for the and pearly ; but, in the larger pic- composition, and highly preserved. ture, it is heightened beyond na- There is a strange and somewhat ture, the veil of air between the anomalous one of Christ in the Mount, spectator and the figures, when as if he had tried to contradict himself, and yet it is Claude all over. of his most exceptionable pictures, Nobody but he could paint one single both in character, and (we add) coatom of it. The Mount is stuck up louring. In the last particular, it is in the very centre of the picture, tricky, and shows, instead of concealagainst all rule, like a huge dirt- ing its art. The flesh is not transpye: but then what an air breathes parent, but a transparency! Let us around it, what a sea encircles it, not forget a fine Snyders, a Boarwhat verdure clothes it, what flocks Hunt, which is highly spirited and and herds feed round it, immortal natural, as far as the animals are and unchanged ! Close by it is the concerned ; but is patchy, and wants 1 Arch of Constantine, but this is to us the tone and general effect that Rua bitter disappointment. The print bens would have thrown over it. In of it hung in a little room in the the middle of the right-hand side of country, where we used to contem- the room, is the Meeting of Jacob and plate it by the hour together, and Laban, by Murillo. It is a lively, day after day, and “ sigh our souls" out-of-door scene, full of bustle and to the picture. It was the most expression; but it rather takes us to graceful, the most perfect of all the tents and faces of two bands of Claude's compositions. The Tem- gypsies meeting on a common heath, ple seemed to come forward into the than carries us back to the remote middle of the picture, as in a dance, times, places, and events, treated of. to show its unrivalled beauty, the Murillo was the painter of nature, Vashti of the scene! Young trees not of the imagination. There is a bent their branches over it with Sleeping Child by him, over the door playful tenderness; and, on the of the saloon (an admirable cabinetother side a stream, at which cattle picture), and another of a boy, a little stooped to drink, there grew a stately spirited rustic, brown, glowing, "of grove, erect, with answering looks of the earth, earthy,” the flesh thobeauty: the distance between re- roughly baked, as if he had come out tired into air and gleaming shores. of an oven; and he regards you with Never was there scene so fair, “ so a look as if he was afraid you might absolute, that in itself summ'd all bind him apprentice to some trade delight." How did we wish to com- or handicraft, or send him to a pare it with the picture! The trees, Sunday-school; and so put an end we thought, must be of a vernal to his short, happy, careless lifegreen—the sky, the mild dawn, or to his lessons from that great teacher, softened evening. No, the branches the Sun-to his physic, the air-to of the trees are red, the sky burned his bed, the earth-and to the spring up, the whole hard and uncomfort- of his very being, Liberty ! able. This is not the picture, the The first room you enter is filled print of which we used to look at with some very good and some very enamoured—there is another some- bad English pictures. There is Howhere that we still shall see! There garth's Distressed Poet—the Death of are finer specimens of the Morning Wolfe, by West, which is not so good and Evening of the Roman Empire, as the print would lead us to expect at Lord Radnor's,' in Wiltshire. ---an excellent whole-length portrait Those here have a more polished, of a youth, by Gainsborough-A cleaned look, but we cannot prefer Man with a Hawk, by Northcote, and them on that account. In one corner Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic Muse, of the room is a St. Bruno, by Andrea by Sir Joshua. This Portrait, Lord Sacchi—a fine study, with pale face Grosvenor bought the other day for and garments, a saint dying (as it 17601. It has risen in price every should seem)—but as he dies, con- time it has been sold. Sir Joshua scious of an undying spirit. The sold it for two or three hundred old Catholic painters put the soul of pounds to a Mr. Calonne. It was religion into their pictures,--for they then purchased by Mr. Desenfans felt it within themselves. who parted with it to Mr. William There are two Titians—the l'oman Smith for a larger suin (we believe taken in Adultery, and a large moun- 500l.); and at the sale of that gentletainous landscape with the story of man's pictures, it was bought by Mr. Jupiter and Antiope. The last is Watson Taylor, the last proprietor, rich and striking, but not equal to his for a thousand guineas.' While it best ; and the former, we think, one was in the possession of Mr. Desenfans a copy of it was taken by a may probably be our fault. We do not pupil of Sir Joshua's, of the name of wish to draw invidious comparisons ; Score, which is now in the Dulwich but we may say, in reference to the Gallery, and which we always took pictures in Lord Grosvenor's Collecfor an original. The size of the ori- tion, and those at Cleveland-house, ginal was larger than this copy; and that the former are distinguished there was a dead child painted at the most by elegance, brilliancy, and bottom of it, which Sir Joshua Rey, high preservation; while those benolds afterwards disliked, and he had longing to the Marquis of Stafford, the canvass doubled upon the frame look more like old pictures, and have to hide it. It has been let out again, a corresponding tone of richness and but we did not observe whether the magnificence. We have endeavourchild was there. We think it had ed to do justice to both, but we conbetter not be seen. We never very fess we have fallen very short even of much liked this picture; but that our own hopes and expectations. 事 a ON FAME AND MONUMENTS. To be forgotten, is almost as much gentleman.” The love of life may, the general lot as to die, yet few in strictness, be defensible only, like submit to this dreary particular of the love of fame, as it is combined our common sentence without a hope with the love and the power of being of some mitigation and allowance. useful; yet would it be a harsh We will not yield to death tamely, measure to put all those worthy perwe think: let him stop our present sons to death, who have no reasons breath and take us from future ac- for being spared, except a simple tion; our past lives at least, we fancy for being alive. As the meanfondly imagine, are beyond his reach est has his pretensions to his life in - these we may make our proxies, the flesh, his decent pride of eating, our present and future, among the drinking, and sleeping, so he would generations of men, and so secure do his little best to hold his inch of a sort of being in this world, even posthumous place; and if there be when we hope to be breathing, think- room, why turn him out? A joint ing, and enjoying, in a better. I boiled to-day and baked to-morrow, have heard people say that they as life, and a name over a vestrycould think with more patience of door or on a new pump, as immordying, than of being buried; and Itality, are allowances which it is can understand their feeling in this scarcely worth while to look grudgrespect. It is explicable, indeed, by ingly upon. As for me, who take that sympathy which quickens our my rank amongst the minnows, and tears and deepens our sobs at a not as a Triton either, I have a due burial- as if there was almost an- fellow-feeling for their bumble emuother death for one departed, in this lation and tiny pride ; and would for his final abstraction from the sight of their benefit, passing without notice the living world. We feel as if there all the great bases of sterling and enwas a loss after death, and its com- during fame, say a few words on pletion was in the grave, To die the comparative value of those small is to forget; to be buried is to be foundations, to which they must forgotten. trust the precarious fortunes of their This horror of oblivion was not after-lives and dignities. planted in our souls only to sadden Publicity and permanency are the us, it being, perhaps, the most chief qualities, I imagine, which powerful and permanent of all mo- every one would desire in his monutives to useful and honourable action. ment, or locum tenens, in this world ; Let those, who would not be for- but as these cannot often be found comgotten, deserve to be remembered. bined in such creations as are equal to The achievements which tend most the mediocrity of ordinary men, he to raise the minds, to humanize the must choose between them, or go withfeelings, and improve the condition out them, as his means may allow, or of men, are the best securities for a his fancy suggest. An epitaph, as being cherished and lasting life in their a special and exclusive illustration of memories. There is no burial for your particular case, seems to be an the great benefactors of their kind. obvious mode of notoriety; and as But the love of fame is an universal it is open to the humblest aspirants, passion; and it would be hard if (for there are always plenty of hands, some degree of the enjoyment were I believe, ready to undertake such not permitted to the crowd who, things at so much a virtue,) it is nawanting ability or opportunity, can- turally in pretty general use and not exactly comply with the severe favour. Yet in truth it is but a. condition of deserving it. Attention poor perishable record, beneath the must not be confined to those talkers ambition of any one who courts only who have something to say. even a moderate share of immortaEvery one who has a tongue has his lity. , We have no reason to comlingual rights--his vocal privileges. plain of epitaphs, that they are nigEven Mr. speaks, and there- gardly and Jukewarm in their notices; upon is called “ the honourable to give them their due, they say JULY, 1823. D |