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ough's "Blue Boy" (156), "painted to disprove the opinion of Sir Joshua Reynolds, that the predominance of blue in a picture is incompatible with a good effect of colour;" and, lastly, Gainsborough's "Portrait of Mrs Graham," which, perhaps, equally refutes the notion that the elabora tion of satins and silks is irreconcilable with the highest walks of art. These three works, and others not inferior, serve in portrait-art, as the pictures of Wilson in landscape, to connect, as we have said, the older masters with the modern, the works of Vandyck, of Lely, and Kneller, with the existing school of portrait-art. Of that living school we have likewise in this Gallery illustrious examples. Gordon in his noble head of Professor Wilson (5); Knight in the portrait of "Rev. Mr Locke" (82), full of character; and Grant in his "Lord John Russell," all worthily bring down the history of portraitart to the day in which we now live. The art of this country may not be ambitious, but it is at least sound, and its health and its truth are not a little dependent on the sure basis it has thus laid in portraiture. An artist who cannot execute a portrait cannot paint a history. It argued well, then, for the future of the English school, that it commenced truthfully, and comparatively humbly, with Gainsborough and Reynolds.

That future, and indeed the living present, here expands before us. After passing in review, then, the historic series of other nations, and examining the credentials of our earliest Academicians, we naturally inquire, on entering this more advanced English school of the nineteenth century, whence and how did it arise, to what masters does it owe dependence, how far is it of foreign origin, and to what extent indigenous? To Italy at least it would seem to claim little allegiance. At the outset we at once see, for example, that the modern pre Raphaelite works, whatever be the theory of their origin, are practically, in their relation to past Italian art, a grotesque parody, evincing more self-will than humble historic teaching. Again, the school of West, Fuseli, and Barry, is fortunately extinct, and high art, so called, having in England under these men once failed, is now, with few exceptions, no

longer attempted. Thus the school of Rome, the art of the Sistine and of the Vatican has here not a single representative. But, on the other hand, the more decorative and seductive Venetian manner, nurtured by merchant princes, not cradled in the Church, was at once fostered and naturalised in our land of commerce. Accordingly Etty, ambitious in subject and in canvass, eschews the dark sky and the cold mists of northern Europe; and, disporting in the glowing palette of Veronese and Rubens, perpetuates the nude simplicity of Eden, and knows of no zone north of the tropics. With some such doubtful exceptions, we recognise in the present collection, as we have said, little or no allegiance to Italian art. Turner, it is true, in his earlier manner, of which there are here choice examples, fell for a time under the sway of Claude and Poussin, and then speedily, as is too well known, took a wayward course essentially his own. In like manner, Eastlake's picture of "Christ weeping over Jerusalem" (152), in character the most directly Italian painting in this English Gallery, seems the result of certain elevating reminiscences rather than of any very definite Italian teaching; and, accordingly, in his other works, he adopts a manner essentially his own. Our school of art, in fact, whenever brought in direct comparison with the works of other nations, whether ancient or modern, shows itself the transcript indeed of our national character, individual, independent, and, like our island, itself isolated from the continent of Europe. Thus, in the Paris Exposition, exclusively consisting of living masters, our national art was in a marked degree distinct from that of France, Germany, and Belgium. In most subjects, political, commercial, or social, we possess indeed that confident trust in our own powers, which gives to our people, in their manners and political career, a national and independent character. So is it likewise in our art. Thus does this historic series, commencing with the thirteenth century, suddenly break off at the commencement of the nineteenth, and this vast collection, brought together with so much assi duity, emphatically teaches and proclaims tha most part, with

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the past our present art has now no connection. Our boasted Protestantism in great measure accounts for this revulsion. Throwing off all fetters, losing, indeed, all unity in origin, art became a wanderer up and down on the earth in search of a subject, and in want of an inspiration. What it lost in intensity it gained by compensation in extent. The entire world, as a vast art-domain, is now allotted out. Stanfield takes the sea; Turner the other elements; Landseer, the animal creation; and wherever and in whatever form beauty walks the earth, art comes and takes her captive. Man only, in his diviner aspects, in those high moods and moments when he holds special intercourse with heaven, receives from art no worship, and gives in return no exaltation.

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But let us receive with gladness those good things which are here so bounteously set before us. We can at least, for example, turn with some sense of thankfulness to our indigenous school of water-colours. The present collection, in the importance of its masters, the number and the excellence of its examples, is indeed unrivalled. It contains upwards of eighty drawings by Turner, choice and numerous examples by Copley Fielding, with some of the best works of all our known artists, both living and deceased. The Cattermoles, for example, are numerous and good, including such subjects as Macbeth and the Witches," "The Refectory," "Distant Music," and "The Giant of the Forest." David Cox, whose contributions of late years to the Old WaterColour Exhibition, have been but a parody on his former self, is here again restored to original greatness, by works of tender delicacy in grey transitional colours, such as the Hay Time (486), or in drawings of mysterious grandeur, such as the "Welsh Funeral" (496.) William Hunt is equally strong, and equally unlike every one besides s; among many other characteristic works we marked "The Stable Boy" (544), "Preparing for the Soiree" (521), Attack" and "The Defeat' 527). Of David Roberts, examples of his eastern sk bjects

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And, lastly, among a multitude of works and masters, which at present we cannot further notice, is found that marvel of labour and art, "The Frank Encampment in the Desert," by Lewis. It is in some sense a censure upon our English school of oils, that the great Italian manner finds in us no disciples; but surely it is the special glory of this grand gallery of water-colour drawings that the art arose and was carried to perfection in Britain alone; that a collection like the present belongs historically to no past century, exists in none of those nations which, more directly modelling their style upon the accepted examples of high art, have possibly, in consequence, failed in that discursive originality which strikes out a new and a bold career. Here, then, let us find some compensation for our admitted deficiencies.

We may likewise, even among our oil pictures, find cause for reasonable satisfaction. The historic survey and comparison already made is indeed not wholly adverse to the claims of our national school. The grand picture of "Macbeth" (76), by Maclise, for example, is in manner sufficiently novel and startling to create surprise and sensation in any gallery of historic works, and whatever be its defects, the other pictures, ancient or modern, here brought together, serve rather to increase than to diminish its power and originality. Again, Wilkie in his " Rent Day" (59), Webster in "The Playground" (119), and Faed in his "School" (4), show a refinement and a delicacy in the treatment of character which give to their works a higher social position than that of the Dutch masters. It will be seen likewise that Sir Edwin Landseer is at least different from, and in some respects superior to, Paul Potter. In like manner David Roberts, in his "Interior of Seville Cathedral" (143), has certainly no rival in the other schools; and in comparison with this great work, the Dutch Neefs is without colour, and destitute of space and dimensions. Again, the bold freedom, the dash and the weight of a Stanfield wave or storm, have, compared with Backhuysen, the grandeur and the swell of

chopped-water of the Zuyder Zee. Lastly, our landscape-art, while descended, as we have seen, from the history of the past, is yet at the same time essentially national and original national in its supreme love of nature for her own sake, both in her details and her grandeur, and original in its ability to see and to seize new aspects of truth and new forms of beauty.

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But whatever may be the comparative intrinsic merits of ancient and modern art, there can be little doubt as to which is most in harmony with our existent sympathies and our present mental condition. We may go to the early masters for instruction, we are drawn to the modern by enjoyment. The old masters are a history which is past; the modern, a living history which is now enacting. Even if modern art treat of past days, the subject is adapted to our present times, infused with the thoughts, coloured by the feeling, of the passing hour. We walk along a gallery of old masters as through a cloister, reverently, and in pensive meditation, as among tombs; in the modern, we talk with the living, one common life beats with strong pulse; the art of the painter, and the thoughts and ways of the outer world, with the current of passing literature, are here all in unison. Ancient art is to the multitude a closed book in a dead tongue, requiring knowledge for its reading; modern in subject, taken from the last campaign, or the popular novel, is read, understood, and enjoyed by all.

We are conscious that the shortness of the time, and the limits of the space at our command, have prevented our giving to the English school that detailed examination which it merits. This we propose to reserve for a subsequent occasion. In our present paper it has been our object in a general review to give a comparative historic estimate of the lead ing schools, and the salient works in this truly great Exhibition. We have endeavoured to educe from each his toric and national epoch that instruetion which its position and our pre

sent wants seem to afford and to demand. We once again assert, that throughout Europe no one exhibition affords a like opportunity of testing each school, whether ancient and foreign, modern and domestic, by its comparative position in the world's history. In art such a test is specially required. In the organic kingdoms we have comparative anatomy; in the physical, the connection of the sciences; and it is no less needful, that in like manner the connection and the comparative philosophy of art should be carefully and fully elaborated. By the comparative history of nations we establish a political philosophy, draw our conclusions as to the efficiency of the varied forms of government; and thus at length political knowledge, proverbially precarious and indefinite, can, through the experience of past success or failure, be matured to the approaching certainty of probability. By a corresponding process of inquiry, which, through this Exhibition, is now rendered feasible, the precarious uncertainty which proverbially besets all art teachings and philosophy, may in like manner be indefinitely diminished. We have here a standard of appeal, a broad basis for our deductions; and thus not only may we build up a more complete and secure art-system, but, applying the knowledge thus matured to the wants and failings in our own living school, our practice no less than our theories will stand corrected. Thus may the inductive process of inquiry be directed to the arts, and with it will come an approaching certainty to our speculations, and a more definite and wider purpose in our practice. The critic and the artist may be thus alike instructed, and with the increase of knowledge we can promise enhanced delight. In an Exhibition like the present, knowledge is the condition to enjoyment, labour of reward; and just in proportion as the visitor is prepared to work, not to idle in vacancy, will he receive reward, and with it ennobling pleasure, from this wide world of thought and beauty.

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MAGA'S BIRTHDAY.

ETATIS, FIVE HUNDRED.

DEAR reader of MAGA, to whom it is given
To feast on the Number for June, fifty-seven,-
Cast your eye on the cover, and there you will see
(On the title-page also) a mystical D.

Right over the head of Buchanan the sage,
Appears that astounding announcement of age;
Proclaiming that MAGA now dazzles the earth,

For the FIVE-HUNDREDTH time since the hour of her birth!

Far back though the date of her origin be,
Yet never an infant or nursling was she!

Full-clad and accoutred she stepped on the plain,
Like Minerva when springing from Jupiter's brain.
For beauty, and wisdom, and strength were her dower,
And a voice that was thrilling with passion and power:
As Bradamant fearless, as Britomart bold,

So rose the bright virgin in armour of gold!

She spoke and her words were so witching and sweet,
That thousands knelt down at her conquering feet.
She sang-and her lay was so melting and clear,
Like the nightingale's note when the morning is near,
That the hearts of the sternest grew soften'd and mild,
And they said, as they gazed on the wonderful child,
"Was ever so peerless a paragon seen?

Let's crown her with laurel,-let MAGA be Queen!"

All things that were loathsome and guilty and vile,
They quailed at her glance, and they shrunk from her smile,
They fled from her sceptre in terror and fear,
For its touch was like that of Ithuriel's spear.
And Falsehood and Quackery, rampant till then,
Scowled fiercely upon her and skulked to their den,
And impotent Envy drew off to a side,

As Maga swept by in her pomp and her pride.

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When blew the loud trump as the signal of war,
And MAGA in majesty came from afar,

Then dread and dismay smote the Radical clan,
For they knew the brave banner display'd in the van;
And the Balaks of Whiggery, trembling and pale,
Sent messengers off by the post or the rail,

To bid their false prophets, their Balaams, or worse,
Essay to extinguish the maid with a curse.

But curses, like stones when they upwards are thrown,
Fall back on the heads of the casters alone;

And sad was the plight of the self-stricken crew,
As battered and lame from the field they withdrew.
Still flaunted her banner, still first was it found,
When the eddies of battle were raging around;
And the shafts of the foemen, though heavy as hail,
Ne'er lit on a rivet or chink of her mail.

When Pallas and Juno came down from the sky

For the guerdon of beauty with Venus to vie,

Like maids in their teens, though the years of the three
Were many, ere Tenedos rose from the sea-
So dazzled was Paris, he scarce could declare,
Which Deity bloomed most bewitchingly fair;
But a different judgment that day there had been,
If MAGA, the peerless, had stepped on the green !

Then long may she flourish in beauty and worth,
The loved of the muses, the pride of the North!
Long, long may she shine in her bountiful light,
Like the ruddy Aurora that kindles the night!
And when she has doubled the span of her age,
With the vigour of youth ever stamped on her page,
May some minstrel in rapture and triumph declare,
That none can with MAGA, ONE THOUSAND, compare !

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