they look upon him from the walls of a palace or of a picture-dealer's shop; nay, he scarcely thinks the worse of them for having an auctioneer's lot-mark in the corner-since this does not oblige him to read the description appertaining to it!

A paper which appeared in the last number of this work has superseded any thing that I might have to say on the place which contains the Gallery I am now to notice. I shall, therefore, proceed at once to the pictures themselves ;-arranging them without any reference to their relative situation, but merely in the order in which they may happen to present themselves to my recollection; which will probably be nearly correspondent with what I conceive to be their respective merits. In pursuance of this plan, the first that returns to me, in all the freshness of its beauty, and as if it were actually before me while I write, is one of almost miniature size, but for rich purity of colouring, severe sweetness of expression, and inimitable truth and delicacy of finishing, equal to any thing of the kind I am acquainted with. It is by Albert Durer, and represents the Virgin and Child, in an interior, with a distant landscape seen through a window on the right. The infant Jesus is eagerly looking out of the picture, and straining forward towards the point to which his eyes are directed; while the Virgin-mother is tenderly restraining him with one hand, which encircles his body, and presses into the soft flesh in front. This hand of the Virgin, and indeed the whole picture, may be offered as a perfect specimen of what finishing ought to be-of how far it ought to be carried, and at what point it should stop. We have here all the details of the actual object, in their most delicate minutæ, producing all the force and spirit of general effect which is so usually frittered away, or diluted into mawkishness, in attempts of this kind. But the chief charm, in the detail of this rich little gem, is the expression of the Virgin: it is the perfection of a divine humanity; blending together, into one lovely whole, all the attributes with which the imagination invests this most interesting of historical characters.

The next picture that I shall notice, is one of corresponding and perhaps equal merit with the above, but in altogether a different class of art; the first being, notwithstanding its truth, all ideal, and the second being a piece of actual unmingled nature. But I place them thus, side by side, because they seem to have been dictated by the same spirit, and to proceed on the same principles: each being actually true in every particular; but the one being true to the imagination, and the other to actual knowledge and observation. The exquisite work to which I now allude is by Metzu, and represents a woman scraping fish on a table, before the door of a cottage; on the table are placed some parsnips, and a brass kettle, with a kitten seated on the top of it. Among all the specimens that I have seen of the Flemish school of finishing, this is without exception the very best, with reference to the ostensible object of all finishing-viz. to produce natural impressions. Any thing which proceeds beyond this-(which much of the Flemish finishing frequently does-that of Vanderwerf, W. Mieris, and G. Dow, for example)—is distinct from the purpose of painting-which was and is as 'twere "to hold the mirror up to nature." The reader will, perhaps, pardon me, if I direct his attention in a particular manner to this last illustration, because it precisely explains what I mean, with reference to

pictures of the class now in question. Their perfection, in fact, consists in representing objects, not as they actually appear when presented directly to the eye, but as they would appear if reflected from a concave mirror. Looked at in this point of view, the little work before us is the most purely natural effort of the pencil that I have ever seen; so much so, as to have required nothing less than genius to produce it -which is more than I should be disposed to say of any other similar work, that I am acquainted with, of the Flemish school.

As an illustrative contrast to these two charming works, I would have pointed out, had the collection remained entire, an execrable picture by W. Mieris, which was (strange to say) considered as among the chief boasts of the gallery. The subject is the Judgment of Solomon; and the whole scene (with the exception of the real mother) is the ideal of what a work of art should not be-whether regarded as a composition, a piece of colouring, or an effect of high finish. To convey a notion of the spirit in which the work is composed, I will mention that the false mother is standing, with a smile on her countenance, holding out her apron to receive her share of the infant!

As a fine contrast to the above, in point of style, I will here notice a noble gallery picture, by Ludovico Carracci,-the only one in the collection, of this class, which is worthy of particular mention. It is a long low picture-the figures larger than life-representing the Libyan Sibyl, seated on the ground, and giving forth her oracles; while youths are attending her on either side, with tablets, taking down.. what she delivers. The figure, attitude, and whole expression of the Sibyl, are grand in the highest degree; but grand from the pure and severe simplicity of their conception and execution; for any thing like the adventitious aid of art or refinement is totally abandoned. She is sitting on the ground, self-collected, as it regards her attitude, and involved in a noble drapery, which seems to wrap itself about her like a solemn thought; but her eyes are gazing forth into the void space before her, as if searching for inspiration from the elements or the clouds. The youths who are holding the tablets on which her words are to be recorded, are no less fine, but in a different way. As specimens of anatomical design, they are admirable; one in particular-that on the right of the Sibyl, holding the pen and looking round towards her-includes an astonishing union of power and truth. The colouring of this picture is correspondent with the conception and design; and it is altogether a noble specimen of what truly merits to be called the grand style in Art.

In as highly imaginative a class of Art as the above, though at the very opposite extremity of the scale in point of style and subject, is the Temptation of Saint Anthony, by D. Teniers. This is one of those grotesques in which Teniers had no rival, and, indeed, no imitator; and in which he displayed a force of conception, a vividness of imagination, and a truth and facility of hand, that have never been united in any other person, either before or since. The saint, with a fine solemn, self-possessed, but anxious countenance, is seated in his cell, looking towards a seeming lady who is gliding onwards to offer him a cup of wine which she holds in her hand; while all around him are seen nondescript creatures, composed "of every creature's worst," making the most hideous mops and mows, to "fright him from his propriety." It

is in the expressions thrown into the faces of these creatures, that the wonderful power of the picture consists. Though any thing but human, yet unquestionably their effect arises from some recondite resemblance that they bear to something that we have either seen or dreamt of in human faces. Teniers must, I think, have been an opium-eater, or he never could even have imagined, much less embodied, such expressions as we find in this and some other of his pictures on the same subject; for "such tricks hath strong Imagination" only when she is under the influence of some adventitious circumstances. That these expressions do owe their power upon us to some resemblance they bear to what we have previously seen with the mind's eye, I am convinced from the fact, that upon general spectators they have no effect at all—except that of mere strangeness. To be affected by them, and consequently to appreciate the astonishing skill displayed in them, demands an imagination akin at least to that from whence they have sprung. Not that I am disposed to rank the value of this skill higher in consequence of its effects not being generally intelligible; on the contrary: but I merely refer to the fact as explanatory.-To shew the variety of his power, the artist has depicted the seeming lady, who forms the principal object in the picture, with a grace and dignity of deportment which cannot be surpassed, and which could little be expected to proceed from his pencil, by those who do not know that, whatever he could see, that he could depict-any one thing as well as any other; and that he adopted one particular line of Art, not because he excelled in it, but because he preferred it.

There is another picture in this collection on the same subject with the above, and of almost equal merit, but on a much smaller scale.— There is also one which deserves to rank with the very finest he ever painted, in his own peculiar class,-a Village scene. It is of a large size, and yet includes but few figures; but for skilful composition, truth and harmony of colouring, and rich touches of nature and character, it merits to be called a noble production. It represents a bagpiper standing on a tub before an alehouse door, and playing to three or four couples who are amusing themselves about him I adopt the following passage from a Catalogue Raisonné of this collection, which has been printed but (I believe) not published; as I could not vary the description with any advantage. "The most conspicuous parts in the detail of this fine work are-first, the couple who are dancing in the centre. There is an indescribable expression of half shame-faced, half chuckling delight in the woman, which is peculiarly rich and striking; but so far from moving on the light fantastic toe,' she lifts up her feet as if weights were tied to them. The tipsy dance and revelry' that looks out from the face of her partner, is equally rich and fine. The figure next in merit, on account of the truth as well as imagination which its expressions combine, is that of the old man who is watching the young couples romping, and rejoicing over them as if the sight renewed the very spirit of youth within him, and made him able to 'fight his (love) battles o'er again.' The bagpiper elevated on the tub, and at once playing his tune and partaking in the game that is going forward below him, is also wonderful.”

The next picture that I shall notice is perhaps, upon the whole, the most perfect in this collection, and, to my mind, the very best that I

have ever met with of the master. Indeed it has raised my opinion of his talents to a height that it had never approached before. It is a picture by Berghem, which was formerly in the gallery of the Duke de Praslin, and known there by the name of L'embarquement des Vivres. The scene is the Gulf of Genoa, with various figures and cattle on the shore in front, about to embark in a passage-boat; and buildings and shipping occupying different points of the distance. The manner in

which these latter are steeped in air, and as it were blended with it, is truly admirable, and in no degree inferior to some of Claude's best efforts in the same class; and the objects in the foreground are equally effective in a different way. There is a man seated at the head of the passage-boat, whose whole character might be written from his face and air. He cares no more about his customers than if he was to get nothing by them, because he knows that they must come to him; and instead of dancing attendance upon them, there he sits as if they were coming to his levee. In the centre is a woman counting her money, with a prospective eye to the amount of its increase by her marketing expedition. On the left are two men spelling the contents of a postingbill; and near the boat are two boys, one pushing and the other dragging a goat that they want to embark, but that seems to feel an instinctive horror of its fate, and will not stir a step. The boys are urging it with an expression made up of half fun half anger. But the general effect of this picture is its great charm; and this seems to arise chiefly from the extreme lightness and elegance of the handling, and the exquisite harmony and sweetness of tone that is preserved through the different gradations of the perspective and the colouring. This charming picture, if it does not evince so high and rare a degree of power as some others that I have noticed, is, I repeat, the most faultless work in the whole collection.

If I do not pass over Leonardo da Vinci's "Laughing Boy," it will be more in respect to its celebrity than in conformity with my own opinion of its merits-which strike me as being very limited indeed. It is a small upright picture, representing a very young child amusing itself with a toy; and the expression of infantine simplicity which beams from the happy countenance is extremely pleasing and appropriate. But to hold the picture up as a distinguished effort of high art, is to betray an ignorance or an indifference as to the true import of the phrase. It is a pleasing specimen of a natural expression most naturally depicted; and nothing more.

As it was not my intention to notice in detail any objects of the Fonthill Gallery but those of surpassing merit, I shall conclude this notice by merely naming a few others which remain upon my memory, and adding a few words on the general character of the whole collection.

Of the Flemish school of finishing there are several most exquisite specimens, and one or two that are perhaps unrivalled. Of these latter, a lady in a satin and fur cloak, feeding a grey parrot, by F. Mieris, is the best. There is another on the same subject, by the same master, which is extremely beautiful in its way. G. Dow's "Poulterer's Shop" is also inimitably rich and elaborate; and its expressions are more natural and characteristic than this master usually took the trouble of making them: for his care was chiefly applied to tangible

things. Among the gallery pictures is an Adoration of the Shepherds, by Philip de Champagne, which possesses extraordinary merit in the design and the chiaro-scuro; among the portraits, there is an admirable one by Bronzino, and two by Sir Anthony More which are little inferior to Titian; and finally, there is a charming set of pictures by Watteau, representing the Four Ages of Man, and two others by the same artist in his usual courtly style.

In taking leave of the Fonthill Gallery, I should not give a fair impression of its character to those who have not seen it, if I did not add, generally, that it is (or, by this time, was) more miscellaneous in point of merit than any other great collection that I could point out. It contains (as I have shewn) a few fine works-but those, with one or two exceptions, not of the finest class; many that do not reach to mediocrity; and some that are totally bad. Whether this argues a want of taste, or only a want of means, is more than I shall determine. It must be confessed, however, that it might be difficult to say where four hundred fine pictures are to be found. In fact, the mistake of picturebuyers is to limit themselves in price rather than in number. Oh, for the two best rooms in Fonthill Abbey, and a hundred thousand pounds to furnish them with! With this space and this sum alone one might, even in the present day, collect together a finer private gallery than any one now in existence ;-bartering his paltry gold for the "riches fineless" of truth and beauty; and (if that were his appetite) acquiring a lasting fame at the same time. The late Mr. Angerstein was known all over Europe, and will not soon be forgotten, for no other reason than that he possessed ten of the finest pictures in the world!

SOLITUDE.

SEEK not for loneliness 'midst leaves and flowers,
But on the sands that void and voiceless lie,
Where not a shade reveals the passing hours,
And Time seems lost into Eternity!
And where-like wrecks upon a sullen sea,
Making the solitude more sad-we tread
O'er cities long lost from the things that be,

Where, towering like tall phantoms of the dead,
Haunting their desert tomb dim columns rear their head,

But when the stars look down through night's dun veil,

And o'er the Arab's slumber shed their beams—

As soft as Beauty's eye at Sorrow's tale,

Then is the desert peopled with his dreams

With fairy scenes creative fancy teems;

He sees the blue-robed daughters of the skies
Wave on his spirit-where the crystal streams

Stray through cool shades, and every air that sighs
Wafts o'er immortal bowers the songs of Paradise!

M.