not say a word against this purchase, if it were not that it may have been to the exclusion of other pictures. It is a very good specimen of the master. Yet we confess, (and have no doubt our judgment in art will be called in question, or contemned,) that we receive no sort of pleasure from nine in ten of Murillo's pictures on the contrary, that they are displeasing in some respect or other. Nor should we often look at this picture of St John were it in our own possession; and, by the by, something may be hereafter said upon the subject of pleasing and unpleasing pictures, the sentiments they convey-how they affect the mind-from thence might be drawn rules of value somewhat different from those which fashion has established. The Guido appears to be a clever, free, and flashy study, a head for a Magdalen, probably intended to be introduced into some very large picture, with figures above the size of nature. It is not in Guido's impasto manner; somewhat in his flimsy and washy style, weak in colour: little more, in fact, than a dead colouring. The freedom of execution is great, almost flippant-the play of a practised and wanton hand. It is all of the artist, not of nature. It somewhat reminds us of that which was formerly in the possession of Mr West, and which was puffed to so wonderful a reputation-the "Head Crowned with Thorns "'-a weak, washy, inex pressive head; the two pictures all of the same time, though it is by far the best. Surely Guido never could have intended to have left the lower part of the face of the Magdalen so large and unsoftened off, or it was intended to have been seen from a position in which this would not have been noticed.

fied the pictures objected to. Considerable confidence was placed in the directors of the National Gallery by the Government, and that confidence they were most cautious in not abusing. The pictures last bought were from the collection of Sir Simon Clarke. As to the condition of the pictures, they had the opinion of Mr Seymour, (query, Seguier ?) There were two Murillos in that collection; and he and the other trustees addressed the treasury to permit them to offer for them. They had only asked permission to purchase three picturestwo Murillos, and one Guido. For one of the Murillos, that known by the name of The Good Shepherd, they asked to be allowed to offer 2500 guineas; but they offered in vain, the picture having been knocked down to Mr Rothschild. For the other Murillo they had offered 2500 guineas; but it fell to the lot of Lord Ashburton for 3000 guineas. Lord Ashburton, however, when he heard that there had been some misapprehension on the subject, offered the purchase to the trustees for 2500 guineas, which offer they accepted. With regard to the Guido, which they had purchased for 410 guineas, he believed that if it were to be offered for sale again, it would fetch double that sum. If the honourable member had any other question to ask, he hoped that he would be able to give him as satisfactory an answer as he had now done.' Mr Hume said- That the right honourable baronet had not answered what he wanted to know, and had answered what he already knew. He wanted to know whether there was any report or correspondence on the subject? If the right honourable baronet had not been in the house, who else could have given them the information he had done?' Sir Robert Peel-'Then move for any correspondence." Mr Hume said- If there were any correspondence or certificates, the public ought to be aware of it.' Sir R. Peel said'These things were matters of record at the Treasury."" Then follows some sparring on the Academy, induced by remarks upon the building-the National Gallery-in the course of which Mr Hume chooses to state, that the Academy draw a revenue of L.10,000 from the exhibition, which Sir R. Peel thought not to exceed L.5000. Sir R. Peel likewise played off his usual

Having made our remarks upon these purchases, it may not be amiss to refer to the account given of them in the House of Commons by Sir Robert Peel. We extract from the Morning Chronicle of the 25th July:-"Upon the vote for L.2500 to purchase pictures for the National Gallery, Mr Hume wished to know on what judgment these were bought, as he had heard of objections made to them.' Mr Gordon replied, that they had been purchased at a public sale, and by the trustees of the National Gallery. Sir Robert Peel thought it would have been well if the honourable gentleman had speci

hope and promise of a better structure-a more noble National Gallery. We have only briefly to remark upon one passage in Sir R. Peel's speech, with regard to the purchase of these pictures. He says the trustees have the confidence of the Government, and were most cautious not to abuse it." Now, we want trustees of much less caution; and think the greatest abuse of the confidence of the Government, if they really have it, is to rate it so low as to suppose it will not bear a frequent use. If the confidence is, that the trustees will do the best for the nation-and such the confidence ought to be, or it deserves not the name-all we can say is, the public get nothing by the confidence, and lose a great deal by the caution. It is surely also a bad method of proceeding, that the trustees should ask of the Treasury to be allowed to offer specified sums. It is hardly possible that their intentions should be kept secret, and thus they create competitors against themselves. As we before remarked, the only real and serviceable way of the Government showing confidence in the trustees, is to vote them a good round sum at once, leaving the disposal of it entire ly to their discretion. For what good purpose can it answer to refer a particular purchase to the Treasury, who, if they are better judges, ought to be the trustees; if they are not, their opinions can only be at best an unnecessary clog upon the decision.

There are strong recommendations made to purchase, for the nation, some of the pictures of the Duke of Lucca, lately exhibited. We are told that the finest are already sold, with an intimation that they may be still obtain ed for the National Gallery. When we hear from all quarters the same sums mentioned as the estimated value of pictures, we conclude that it proceeds from authority; that the proprietor or proprietors cause the circulation of the reports by way of easy advertisement. Thus we suppose the sum expected, or rather we should say asked, for the Raffaelle is L.9000 a very large price certainly so that we rub our eyes and look again. It is a rare thing to see a L.9000 picture. We imagine, therefore, L.9000 on one side, and "La Madonna dei Candelabri " on the other we feel a bias to art, yet money has its weight: we "look on

this picture and on this;" we hesitate-alas! in all matters of taste to doubt is to condemn. The next thing is to probe our judgment, and see what the counsel for keeping the money has to say in defence. The connoisseur must be on his oath. Will you swear it is a Raffaelle ?-now pray, sir, do not hesitate. Such and such persons think so; and therefore you will think for yourself. Why then, really, I do not know. Vasari and Lanzi do not mention the picture; yet its subject is striking, and the more noticeable from the peculiarity of the candelabri. Let us describe the picture. We have a print of it before us, engraved by Johannes Folo; but he has omitted two figures and the candelabri ;-why has he done so? The omission is unquestionably an improvement. Had the engraver then a better taste than Raffaelle?—if not, how came the side figures and the candelabri there? We have it as we find it, and describe the picture. It is circular; the mother is holding the infant Jesus, who is seated on a pillow, his left hand is within the drapery of the mother's bosom: on each side are boys holding candelabri ; we ought perhaps to say angels. Now these, be they angels, are very hard, and, at the same time, uncomfortable in execution. If they have any expression, it is of a consciousness that they have no business there. The candelabri, too, are hard, and so are even the flames, which throw no light, and have nothing to do with the picture. The introduction is a mere whim, as if it had been the order of the purcha ger. Would Raffaelle have submitted to this? For none under a Pope. There, indeed, he might a little stoop, as he did; but then he rose wonderfully in the doing, and made it in the end his own act and deed; and that is his finest work, if we may say one is the finest where there are so many faultless. Then the question arises, were these side figures and candelabri put in afterwards by another hand. If so, it must have been not very long after the picture was painted, or the different texture would be observable. As the picture was hung we could not tell. The painting of these parts is certainly very different from that of the mother and child. If the connoisseur, then, is puzzled, and cannot take upon himself to swear that Raffaelle did or did not paint it, to whom

else can it be attributed? Some might say Andrea del Sarto; may it not be more like Julio Romano? Why more like? Because, though it is exquisite ly painted, has much expression that is beautiful, the flesh tints fall too suddenly into shade, and that a brown shade; this gives a little too much harshness, a suddenness to the effect: when the eye has long dwelt upon the composed and sweet modesty of the Madonna, and beauty of the child, it begins to be a little dissatisfied with the brown, and somewhat opaque shadows, and very soon wishes the candelabri irrevocably at the brokers.

We do not say that it is not a Raf. faelle, nor that it is not worth a great deal; but that we should be very sorry to take the responsibility of giving nine thousand guineas for it for the nation; and we suspect that the trustees will find an opportunity of exercising their one virtue, caution, There are in the collection four Caraccis, three of them very fine; "the Woman of Canaan," by Annibale; "Christ healing the Blind," Ludovico; "Christ raising the Widow's Son," by Agostino; "the Holy Virgin, Jesus, St John, and two Saints," Annibale. This last is not to be mentioned with the others. The finest of these is unquestionably "the Woman of Canaan," Annibale. It is a vigorous work, admirable in colour and composition. We desire but one thing to have the abominable cur painted out. At the feet of the woman is a beast of a dog, as ugly a turnspit as ever was seen, and not even well painted. She appears to have recently produced puppies; and to this wretch the principal figure of Christ is pointing. One would almost imagine some envious rival painter had stolen into Annibale's studio, and daubed in the creature, as a practical critique upon the pointing hand. It seems to make the moral, and at the same time caricature the subject. It is the "xuw as sifel." Was Annibale constrained to put in this creature, and, so compelled, put it in as ill as possible; and what did we say with respect to the "Candelabri?" But Annibale Caracci and Raffaelle were very different persons. This is, however, the finest of the Caraccis. We like, too, the Agos tino.

We should be happy to see

these pictures in the National Gallery.

The "Christ before Pilate," Gerard Honthorst, is a picture that has most unaccountably acquired a repu tation. It has been said, that the Duke of Lucca gave four thousand pounds for it; and that even now it has been selected in preference to one of the Caracci. It is intended for a firelight effect; yet is without depth, or solemnity, or power, or expression, or any one thing that we can see, to recommend it. It is downright disagreeable throughout; we cannot conceive why it should ever have been in any estimation at all. But it has once, it seems, fetched a high price, and therefore will again. Certain collectors are like sheep to follow a leader, each one leaping a little higher than his predecessor. We need not add, that we most sincerely hope the trustees will not burn their fingers by touching this fire-piece. There is a celebrated picture among them of Federico Baroccio," the Noli me tangere," engraved by Raffaelle Morghen. There is sweetness in the expression of both figures: the one should have had more than sweetness. The attitude of the Saviour is not quite pleasant. It is a fine picture of the master. The pinkness of his flesh, set off by blue touches, is peculiarly the defect of the master, and is very conspicuous in this picture. Nor did he understand colour as a means of effecting sentiment.

Though of somewhat a quaint style, we greatly admire" the Virgin, Jesus, St Ann, St John, and four Saints," by Francesco Francia. Notwithstanding that this picture par takes of the stiffness of the early school, there is so much chaste beauty, kept up with so much purity of colour, that the mind is pleased and raised, and is even earried back to the days of the Holy Saints by the unoffending quaintness of the manner. We should wish to see this picture, with its "lunetta,' ""the Dead Christ upon the Mother's lap," in the National Gallery. Poor Francesco! we can easily conceive him, from the work, to have been a man of exquisite sensibility. The story told of him is interesting. His real name was Raibolini. He was born

in Bologna in 1450, contemporary with Raffaelle; it is said that from age and infirmity he was unable to go to Rome to see the immortal works of Raffaelle. Yet was his curiosity in part gratified. For when Raffaelle

had painted a St Cecilia for the church of S. Giovanni in Monte at Bologna, he wrote a friendly letter to Francia, requesting him to see it fixed in its place. The letter delighted the old man beyond measure; but so great was his astonishment on opening the case, says the account, at so much perfection in design, grace, expression, and exquisite finishing, that it threw him into an invincible melancholy and despair, convinced that neither he nor any other painter could equal so consummate a master; it had such an effect upon him that he pined and died.

66 The Massacre of the Innocents," Nicholas Poussin, is a picture grandly conceived, and executed with great simplicity of effect. It is so very thin in the shadows; more so, pro. bably, than when fresh from the easel, that it looks less finished than it is. This exhibition contained ninety-four. The remainder of the Duke of Lucca's pictures were sold by Messrs Christie and Manson, and were of so little value, that they only brought L.897. We have thought it not undesirable to make these remarks upon the few principal pictures of this collection, (which, by the by, is not one of great date,) because we know that some at least of them are strongly recommended as a national purchase.

Aware that we may differ greatly from many whose taste and judgment we do not question, we have given our reasons with our objections; so that if they are not tenable upon examination, the pictures will rise above them. Making, as we do, a sort of picture

tour, we see many very fine works, and commonly ask if the trustees of the Gallery have seen some that are purchasable. The reply generally is, that they will not look at them.

We have been half inclined to enumerate fine works, and to say where they are to be seen-such as we may think worthy a National Gallery; but upon consideration it might be thought impertinent, do no good, and the possessors may not like the sort of publicity. There is a quackery even in collecting, and in exhibiting too. Why is the Soult Gallery so called? When there happen to be one or two, perhaps, that belonged to the collection of Marshal Soult. We have rather a spite against the Marshal; first, for the military plunder, and more than all, for infecting us with a Murillo mania.

We intend to make some farther extracts from our note-book, offering remarks upon a few of the pictures in the British Institution, Pali-Mall; and very sincerely do we now offer our thanks to the governors and exhibitors for the annual pleasure afforded. There is always a predominance of good. There is no Exhibition from which the public taste may acquire so much improvement as from this. Excepting some inestimable and immovable pictures abroad, it may be safely asserted that this country can boast in private collections the finest in the world.

They are not seen as a whole, as in some foreign galleries; and it is a very great thing that a sufficient number are annually brought together by the governors of the institution. No apology can be necessary for any freedom of remarks, because what is publicly exhibited, fairly courts criticism; and sure we are, that the high-minded possessors love art too well to claim privilege of exemption.

"God gave horns to the bull, hoofs to the horse, swiftness to the hare, a gaping of toothed jaw to the lion, fins to the fish, wings to the bird, wisdom (@govna) to men, and to women beauty." For if there be in any author, sacred or profane, a text which might afford the groundwork of a discourse on genuine contentment of spirit, and catholicity of taste, this is the text. It does not indeed say, what might appear heterodox, that all things are good-but it says that there is some good in all things; and that God never created any, the smallest worm, much less a reasoning man, without some special weapon of defence against the pricks, and thorns, and protrusive angularities of fate, to which each particular creature might be subject. Now, there are many pricks, and thorns, and protrusive angularities to our English taste at least-in Vienna. There is a double despotism, unlimited over soul and body-a conspiracy (shall we say ?) of priests to keep down the soul, and a conspiracy of far-spreading, tight-tying bureaucratists to keep down the body-a jealous censorship of the press-an Argus. eyed police-an exclusive aristocracy, admitting a flaunting Mrs Trollope now and then by special favour into its godlike fellowship-but sitting apart, for the general, from vulgar mortality in a coroneted coach, like the lady of title in Mr Hood's steamboat, "not condescending even to be drowned with her inferiors;" and then in the far north distance there is the famous (or infamous) Spielberg, frowning with dark reminiscences. All this is bad enough. But did God leave the Austrians altogether defenceless against these things? My year! A light heart, and a merry blood, and

an easy conscience, make all these things, and worse, tolerable. To a singing and dancing generation the Spielberg, with all its horrors, exists only in posse. The Viennese believe in it as they believe in the devil, most piously, but as in a thing with which they-good and peaceable Christian people, loving God and honouring the Kaiser-never can have any thing practically to do. "Our good Kaiser Franz," (or Ferdinand,) they opine, is paid specially for attending to these things. He is the captain, and Prince Metternich is head engineer of the great steam-vessel of the state. Blessed be God, not the cares, but the pleasures of life's navigation are ours! We are the passengers in the ship of mortality, travelling through time to eternity, where we expect to find not only a new heaven, but also a new earth; not only a new Jerusalem, but also a new "Wiänstadt:" and to sing and to dance, to eat and to drink, and to make merry, is literally our business here, (when we can,) and a very pleasant business it is. While you, Britons, brawl, and battle, and tear one another's eyes out, and bespatter each other daily with Whig and Tory bedevilment-a spectacle ludicrous to gods and men, like the hostile hindlegs and fore-legs of the elephant in the melodrame-we swim, and cradle, and envelope ourselves in the undulating harmonies of Haydn and Mozart, the most musical, the most joyous, the most happy, the most contented, the most loyal, the most religious, and (according to our own notions) also the most moral people in the universe. These things are, have long been, proverbial. Mrs Trollope, though she assumed a wonderful air of importance, as if revealing things hidden to mortal men; and informing us for the first time, that, beyond the mountains also, happiness does dwell, preached no new gospel when she