with?'-thus attributing to a mere accessory of the palette, that which is the combined result of the vivid preconception of the work, and the facile power of hand' displayed in the execution."

After the admission in the first sentence of our quotation, we are surprised that so sensible a writer should lay any stress on so imaginary an evil. Does he really think the enquiry will paralyse the hand or the mind of genius, or be in any way injurious to the young student? And as to "undue importance," we think that of very great importance which is to enable the young student to have the most ready means of embodying his ideas, and materials that will render them permanent. But, in addition to this consideration of the young student, however willing we might be to save him this trouble and distraction of thought and we really wish there was a "royal road to mathematics"there is another party, the public the patrons-the purchasers of pictures, who, we are quite sure, will be very much obliged to any one who will secure them in their possessions. Now, though we do not profess to open an "insurance office" for such perilous adventures, we are glad to see a few schemes and prospectuses afloat; for, "in the multitude of counsellors, there is wisdom."

We were once ourselves on most intimate terms with no less a personage in art than an R.A. Few days, during many years, passed that we did not meet. We were constantly beside his easel, and as constantly remonstrated with him upon his use of Macgyllup. Still he persevered. His pictures looked vastly well. He had great reputation; and, save in this respect, deservedly; but we, humble as we were, dared to doubt-even to remonstrate-with the great R.A. We felt that we were competent to instruct;" and he felt that we were not. Well, it may be said-and there was no harm in that. Yes, but there was a great deal of harm in that: for, we regret to say, now that he is dead and gone, his works are following him. First, they lost their brilliancy then they assumed a positively disagreeable texture, and then crackedand some of them went, most wofully, all to pieces. We recollect, too, being ourselves persuaded to try one of these balsamic mixtures in copying a pic

ture, and have regretted it; for it was not wanted. We perfectly remember the mode in which we painted the picture-copy of a large Gaspar Poussin-with strong drying oil and turpentine; and what we painted one day we sanded the next day, or the day after that. By sanding, we mean that we rubbed common red coarse sand, with water, entirely over the surface, which took off all the greasiness, and gave a most pleasant surface; and this we did repeatedly, till the foul part of the oil, which comes to the surface, came no more. Then, so far as it was done, the picture looked well for that medium; but, in folly, we glazed it over freely with this nutoil balsam-which, after all, effected, even for the time, no more than the other process would have done. But what said Time? "This is no work of mine," quoth he, and scrawled his scratchy marks of disapprobation over it. And, yet, he liked it at first; for he kept it pretty well for ten years, for the sake of the under-coating and work, perhaps. But at the end of that time he began indignantly to tear away the balsam, turning it into mud. We were actually allowed a respite of ten years for our work, without any thing that could be called separation of paint; and now it is cracked all over.

We had written so far when we were called away; and, singularly enough, have seen two pictures, a description of the quality of which may well simplify much that we would say upon this subject. The one, we saw painted upwards of twenty years ago. We saw it fresh on the easel of the very R. A. of whom we made mention above. It was an elaborately painted picture of familiar life, with great finish and richness of colour. We saw it during its progress-and, at the very time, we remonstrated with the artist for the use of mastic varnish with his medium: we saw it finished as it stood on his easel, and we have not seen it since until now; and, after that lapse of time, where do we see it? In the hands of a cleaner-a repairer of pictures; and we believe, from certain marks, that this is not the first time that it has required similar assistance. It has kept its colour, and even texture, better than any picture of his we have seen; but still it is cracked, and is still cracking, and some parts that were brilliant are become leathery, others

horny. We are glad, however, that it is now in judicious hands, and hope further mischief may, in a great measure, be averted. The other picture is by Loutherbourg-a very beautiful and powerful picture. Here the texture is still in general pretty good; but it is cracking, much less so than the other. Now, is it not lament. able that pictures so recently painted should be in the hands of a repairer? If the pictures of the old masters had required this renewing every twenty years, it is pretty clear we should have much fewer of them than we have more especially if, subject to such a process, they had been painted with materials and in vehicles which are so very susceptible of solvents. Fortunately the old paint resists the usual processes. Wilson may have been right when he expressed his regret at the discovery of a new brown; but had some one kindly discovered for him and his contemporaries a better medium, many of his pictures that are now fading and cracking would have retained their brilliancy and beauty. It is quite monstrous to speak in any praise of a vehicle used by the founders of our English school, which ren. ders their pictures now necessarily subject to the picture-cleaner's assistance. Have we improved since their day? It may be much doubted. If we have, it is only partially; that is, in the multiplicity of mixtures some may not be so bad as others. And in one view-a view which we think ad mitted to be just by the writer in the Art Union-the very multiplicity proves that we have not the real one. Is there any one conversant with the works of the old masters, who will dispute one or two assertions which we venture to make? First, that their paint does not crack otherwise than in minute hair cracks; that it does not ever separate, leaving gaps in the canvass. That their paint is very hard, and not in a great degree affected by solvents which will destroy a picture painted after a given date. That, however bad an artist the operator may have been, his work exhibits a texture that is still agreeable, and that those botches and slurs, that bad, and sometimes good artists too, are often guilty of now-a-days, are never seenno indication of difficulty of working upon a greasy surface, where the paint has shown a repugnance to the surface.

NO. CCXCVIII. VOL. XLVIII.

When these facts can be disproved by a competent judge, who knows how to distinguish the mendings from the original work, we shall begin to think it idle to waste time on enquiries such as "What is it painted with?" and suspect that time will ultimately of itself restore all it is taking away, and that every modern picture may be the real phoenix to rise from its own ashes. In the mean time, we will prosecute our enquiry, and under a happy hope "feel" that it may be possible, through the widely circulating pages of Maga, for even us, by the help of our friends, scientific and practical artists, if not to throw some light upon the old me thods, to invent new that shall not have the numerous objections which we have pointed out as inseparable from our macgyllup. We reviewed Mr Taylor's translation of Merimée, because we thought the work likely to be permanently injurious; and now again revert to the opinion of Tingry, surely a competent judge, kept back by Merimée, indeed with an apparent effort to mislead for a regret is expressed that Tingry did not apply his chemical knowledge to art, that is picture art, which the professor nevertheless did; and in a passage in which he mentions the practice of English painters, reprobates the very admixture of varnishes with the paint, a practice which it is the professed purpose of the whole work of Merimée to establish. And surely, considering the authority under which that work comes before the public in France and England, it is extraordinary that there should be found such mistranslations from the Latin and Italian, which must deceive any not acquainted with those languages-mistranslating which mainly tends to confirm what is intended to be established. We do not say that Merimée's favourite varnish, copal, may not be made useful, even as an ingredient in a vehicle; but we want better proof than any he has given us, that mastic varnish may not be used without certain deterioration to works. We have no doubt it is soft, never thoroughly dries, and attracts to itself the impurities of the atmosphere, and is compounded with turpentine, the residuum of which is filthy. Yet this is found in more than one of Merimée's recipes. It may not be amiss here to mention that Vernet, contemporary with the founders of the

R

English school, seems to have been much more careful than they were in his pigments and medium. Some of his pictures, indeed, have a dry and rather poor thin look, as if turpentine had been principally the vehicle; this is not the case with other of his works. We have, however, remarked that cracking in any of his pictures is very rare. Yet Wilson, whom Vernet recommended with great liberality, worthy an artist, to the notice and patronage of our English connoisseurs and collectors, and whose genius for landscape he discovered, and was the means of his taking to that walk of art-Wilson, we say, used a most unsafe medium, consequently his pictures constantly require the cleaner's superintendence. We may here too ask "Obiter" why Loutherbourg seems to have been forgotten. He painted so much in this country that we might almost call him an English painter; and if so, setting aside portraits, perhaps the very best we have had. He was a man of high genius, and of very versatile powers. His execution was very variable, well adapted to the objects he had to represent, yet not without the audacity of genius, if we may use so bold a term. He had the art of giving every thing he painted an interest peculiar to it. Wherever he was, it might be said that the "Genius loci" was his familiar. Had he painted but a few pictures, he would surely have had a higher reputation, perhaps deservedly a very high one.

Even

his worst pictures are rescued from commonplace, by some feeling, we use the word designedly, which he con. trived to give them. He had ever a clear true pencil, indicative of great facility. How vigorous are some of his battle pieces; we particularly remember one, between the Turks and Russians; and his marine subjects have not been, we think, approached in modern days. It is curious that he, who was a native of an inland country, and nurtured as an artist in the depths and heights of Alpine scenery, should have criticised the works of a native of Marseilles, as we believe Vernet was, and determined to rival

the French marine painter. For this purpose he made a tour to the coast of France for a few months, and brought back sketches, from which it is said the artists of his day augured no good, and ridiculed his purpose of painting marine subjects. But his studies were stored more in his mind, than on paper or canvass; for his attempt did succeed, and his marine pictures are his very best, some of them may be pronounced magnificent. It is said that he remarked of Vernet, that he could paint ships, but that he knew nothing of sky and water. We should almost have doubted the genuineness of the remark, for Vernet's sky and water are far better than his shipping. One thing must be said of Loutherbourg. He was no imitator. Had he not appended to his art strange schemes which failed, perhaps originating in a superfluity of inventive faculty unemployed to better purposes, he might have been estimated according to his true genius, as the very first of our painters. His reputation suffers from his worst works. This is wandering from the purpose for which we took up our pen, which was simply by taking advantage of some remarks in the Art Union, to direct public attention, and particularly the attention of all of competent chemical knowledge, that something may be discovered, which can be established, so that the artist may not find the ground literally slipping from under him.

We greatly rejoice to find that King's College have nobly set the example and established a professorship of painting; again and again would we urge it upon the consideration of those whose business it should be to take up the matter, that professorships of painting in our universities would do more than any other thing whatever to render art sure and great, and give a step in advance to general education; to associate art with the higher cultivation of mind, of taste, and literature; and rescue it from that mean connexion with mere manufactures, to which the vulgar notions of modern utilitarians would strive to chain it down.

WE have often wished for an inner view of the proud ancient monarchy of France, before the national spirit had been wholly quelled by the royal power. It is fortunate that such a view has been furnished by Sir Henry Bunbury, who has very judiciously inserted in his life of Sir Thomas Hanmer an account of France, written in 1648 by an elder Sir Thomas Hanmer, an English cavalier, who had with drawn from England on the downfal of the royal cause. Hanmer evidently was a man of no common sagacity, and has given a very interesting sketch of the whole social and political organization of the kingdom.

Every institution of which he speaks has disappeared amidst the convulsions which the country has since undergone; or if a remnant of past ages can here and there be traced, imbedded in the recent formations, it is regarded as a mere curiosity, a sort of fossil, only to be wondered at, like the bones of an ichthyosaurus or a drinotherium giganteum; and yet we shall find that France is influenced to this hour by many causes which were at work in Hanmer's time, and that the people were then, under an absolute monarchy, just what they were afterwards in a republic-just what they are now in their amphibious democratic monarchy; and what their blood and climate will always make them, in the essential basis of character at least; though the tone, and the fashion, and all superficial tendencies, may be altered.

In Hanmer's time, France was very full of money-silver and gold-the towns and villages were not decaying, but the houses were full of people, and the streets swarming with children, which no man could well believe but he that saw it.

The climate of France he consider ed to be universally delicate, wholesome, equal, and temperate; neither exceeding in heat, coldness, or moisture; the champaign generally delight. ful, embellished with corn-fields, vineyards, olive-yards, fruit-trees, woods, groves, innumerable towns and vil. lages, commonly of white stone, noblemen's houses, and watered with some navigable rivers, and with many pleasant brooks.

The metropolis of France was Paris, the queen of the European cities, seated in the isle of France, upon the sweet river Seine. The glory and riches of this city proceeded not so much from trade, though it was plentifully provided with all merchandises, especially the most curious and rare, but from the king's ordinary residence there; and consequently, the confluence of the nobility and gentry, the fixed court of parliament for divers provinces, the high chancery of the kingdom, treasuries, and several councils and courts of justice. The miracle of the place was its populousness. The buildings about the city had increased marvellously within the last twenty years. The area, in Hanmer's opinion, was not so vast as commonly reported, London covering almost as much ground. Evelyn, in his “ Diary of 1644," pronounces, with some hesitation, an opinion in favour of the size of London; but adds, that there is no comparison between the buildings, palaces, and materials-Paris being entirely of stone and more sumptuous, though our piazzas, or open places, were larger. The expense of living was not so great as at London; much cheaper than at Madrid; from which we may infer that Madrid was a more expensive place than London in those days of Spanish grandeur. The price of wine, white and claret, from 2d. an English quart to 8d.; mutton, veal, and beef, at 5d. a-pound the best. The price of meat seems remarkably high for that day. We learn from Evelyn, that Paris was paved with a kind of freestone, of near a foot square, which was more easy to walk on than our pebbles in London.

In the preceding age, young men of rank from France, as well as from other countries, used to repair to Italy, in order to acquire certain accomplishments-a fashion of which Roger Ascham speaks with much indignation. "If some do not well understand what is an Englishman Italianated, I will plainly tell him. living and travelling in Italy, bringeth home into England out of Italy the religion, the learning, the policy, the experience, the manners of Italy; that is to say, for religion, papistry, or

He that, by

worse; for learning, less commonly than they carried out with them; for policy, a factious heart, a discoursing head, a mind to meddle in all men's matters; for experience, plenty of new mischiefs, never known in England before; for manners, variety of vanities and change of filthy living.” But now Paris was much resorted to on account of its famous university, and flourishing academies for instruction in riding the great horse, fencing, dancing, the mathematics, and all genteel exercises, which drew thither the youth of the nobility and gentry of other countries, and of Italy itself.

The people, as in other European kingdoms, were distinguished into noble and not noble. They only were noble that came of a noble race; and under the term noblesse was understood, not only the peerage, (in which sense only we use the word,) but all the gentry, some of whom had no titles, but bore either their family names or offices in the state; others were dignified with duchies, marquisates, earldoms or counties, viscounties, and baronies, and yet were not peers of the realm. The peers were only twenty-four in number. Those who had titles did not hold their honours by patents, relating to the persons, as generally in England; but had their lands erected by the king into duchies, &c.; and consequently the title and the land were inseparable, as the earldom of Arundel with us was annexed to the castle of that name. No duke, marquis, count, or baron, unless he were also a peer of the realm, had any privilege by his title above the rest of the gentilhommes, besides precedence or place, which they ordinarily took according to the antiquity of their houses, and not according to the date of their creations or the style

of their honours.

The noblesse held of the king by knights' service, and were generally bred up in the wars. They kept a distance with all that were not noble, were they ever so rich. They only could be governors of towns, castles, or provinces; and had all places in their hands that concerned the safety and peace of the kingdom. They had great power in their seigniories, many having therein the right of justice, even to the taking away life. None but gentlemen could hawk, hunt, or shoot, except in some places adjoin

ing to great towns, and the king could impose nothing on their lands or persons, neither of which were justly taillable; though they necessarily paid indirect taxes like other people. The nobility and gentry of France could generally ride the great horse, and fence and dance perfectly well; had some skill in music; all played upon the guitar or lute; they understood arithmetic and the mathematics well; and had commonly some knowledge of philosophy and history, which they read in their own language, and not in Latin; for they affected not studying controversies in divinity or the old tongues, being naturally addicted to action and war, and to conversation and courtship. They were full of compliment and civility, but jealous of their honour, and impatient of affronts, whence many duels; great courters and servers of ladies; gay and fanciful in dress; gallant in their attendance; affable to strangers; quick and subtle in business; studious of their own interests; full of air and spirit, "called by the duller northern nations fantasticness and levity;" and inferior to the Italians and Spaniards in nothing but the extremity of patience, being not able to attend balf their life for the execution of a design. Few of them lived settled in the country; but, being universally ambitious of power and glory, they either followed the court, or took commands in the army, or had governments of towns or provinces. Their revenues were generally not very great. Few marquises or counts had more than fifteen hundred or two thousand pounds sterling a-year, and few dukes more than four or five thousand; yet some few had forty or fifty thousand yearly, as the Prince of Condé, (who had a great deal of money besides,) the Dukes of Vendôme, Epernon, and Richelieu.

The

Their exercises were chiefly tennis, hunting, riding, and shooting with a gun, in which they were very skilful; they loved setting and coursing very much, and "hunted not with that gravity and order as in England." lesser gentry went into the fields with hounds, greyhounds, curs, spaniels, and guns all together, and any thing to take their game, which was either hare, partridge, deer, boar, or fowl.

Most of the ancient families were then extinct, and so, consequently,