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present task under some difficulties, more par- || ing parts of the picture less colour, and prevented

ticularly as we shall be found to be greatly at variance with what has hitherto appeared in the public journals.

According to the plan which suggests itself, of offering our criticisms upon the Exhibition under the respective departments of the art, it would be necessary to commence with History; but when we throw our eyes round the walls of the Academy, the prospect is barren beyond parallel; there are, perhaps, some few exotics or non-descripts, but nothing which deserves to be considered under this primary class of painting. We lament exceedingly, with every well-wisher to the arts in this country, that the historical pencil is more than ever on the decline. The Exhibition is very rapidly becoming a mere saloon for a morning lounge to see the likeness of a friend, instead of an academy of painting, and a school of science. We are compelled, therefore, to commence with those pictures which approach nearest to the line of art which is so much slighted.

The picture which claims our first attention is

No. 91, A Fancy Groupe, by T. Lawrence, R.A. The groupe in this Picture is evidently composed of portraits, and ranks somewhat under the head of a Bacchante scene. The female head is marked by an expression quick and lively; it is well drawn, clearly coloured, and the reflected shadows are expressed with great felicity. The head of the boy, looking towards his mother, is full of airiness, frolic, and animation; the movement of the hair correspondent with the quick turn of the head, expresses life and vivacity in every gesture. This head is likewise a portrait. The head of the dog, turning towards the boy, is finely rendered; and is at once characteristic of the fidelity and benevolence of this social animal, and of its fondness for its youthful play fellow. || The head of the dog claims equal attention with those of the female and the boy. Th's groupe is wholly on the ground, which occasions many fore shortenings, particularly in the leg of the dog, and the right leg of the boy which accompanies it. They are among the most difficult and happiest efforts of art. We could wish the left leg of the boy had not been thrown so much back; it makes an angle so acute with the right leg, that the harmony necessary to be preserved in the running of lines is totally destroyed. The management of light and shade in this picture is arranged with as much knowledge of effect as of taste; but we could have wished that the colour of this picture had a little more accompanied the arrangement of the clare obscure; it would have been the means of collecting colour more into the light, which would have given to the reced

that scattered effect which makes the first impression upon the eye of the spectator.

The whole of the circle which surrounds the groupe, being unconnected with any of the tones of the picture, injures considerably the effect of the colours in this painting, and prevents the groupe from producing that natural effect which it must have made, had the spandles in the frame been filled up with gold, instead of a stone colour. It would have thus approximated nearer to the general tones in this piece, have rendered the harmony more agreeable, and the groupe more natural. But, upon the whole, this picture may fairly be said to add to the fame of Mr. Lawrence, and confer another laurel upon his justly acquir ed reputation.

The next picture we shall consider, from the station which it holds in the Exhibition, is

No. 229, Prospero and Mirunda, by M. A. Shee,

R. A.

We regret extremely, from our respect for the general talents of this master, that we cannot bestow upon this work those commendations which we have formerly given to some of his portraits.

The subject of this composition being poetical, required that thought and arrangement which should characterize the spirit and meaning of the original poet. To examine it upon this prinple, we cannot admit that the character of the man is that of Prospero, or that the young female is the Miranda of Shakespeare. The academical part of the picture, as well as that part which constitutes taste, out of delicacy to the first attempt which this artist has made in the line in which he has now appeared, ought not to be examined with too nice a scrutiny. We shall here pardon much; but from a man of the general genius and talents of Mr. Shee, we should have expected something more congenial with the mind of Shakespeare, and, at least, nothing trite and common place. We should have conceived that he would have felt those niceties in art, which he has so well distinguished with his pea.

When we consider that the subject of this picture is ideal, we naturally look for that colour, and clare obscure, which belongs to that department of art, and not for those decided and local colours of objects which too much prevail in this picture. The colours should partake more of the atmosphere of the Tempest, in which this scene lies, and not exhibit those decided reds and yellows, colours which belong more to the familiar subjects in nature than to dignified art or ideal characters. We hope Mr. Shee will take these admonitions with as much kindness as they are meant; we have avoided saying too much,

as it is not our wish to impede his efforts of art, but to excite and cherish a more correct taste. The next picture that comes under the line of our observation of ideal art, is

No. 221, A Sleeping Nymph, by J. Hoppner, R. A-Whether this picture is to be considered as representing a Nymph or a Venus, is not an object for us to dwell upon; we shall, therefore, first consider what are the requisites to be found in this subject to characterize a Venus.

The first requisite is decidedly the beauty of form; no aberration from which can ever be dis

pensed with. To draw a Venus or an Apollo, is to throw down the gauntlet, and challenge criticism in support of the most minute accuracy and finished grace of the pencil; and as the perfection of those characters has been bequeathed to the modern world by the Greeks, what would have been the remarks of an Appelles or a Xeuxis in looking upon this figure?" That it had neither character nor drawing to constitute a Venus."

That the face is pretty must be admitted, and that the swell of the bosom is natural and not without grace; but from this part of the figure to the end of the foot, there is a want of drawing, and the correctness of beautiful forms, with a deficiency, in the length, in the division of the figure, which creates an indecision in the setting on of the limbs, and produces something in the rising of the right hip, and the overlapping of the right knee, which gives a bad shape to the right|| thigh and knee; add to this, a kind of heaviness of form in the lower extremities, which no wise corresponds with the prettiness of the face, and Mr. Hoppner must be confessed to have given us a Venus very different from those models which have been established by the Greeks.

This higher excellence in character we will now leave, and turn to those which Mr. Hoppner seems to have laboured most to obtain, we mean colour. In this he has evidently had Sir Joshua Reynolds in his view, and must be confessed to have made a happy imitation of his best manner, for a pearly clearness in the colour of the flesh. The broad folding red curtain, united with the blue tints of the sky, and the flesh tints of the naked Cupid, form a pleasing assemblage of colours for the back ground; but we could have wished that his Cupid, like his Venus, had been better drawn.

No. 19. Count Ugolino, Chief of the Guelphs, at Pisa, locked up in the Torre della Fame, and starved to death. H. Fuseli, R. 4.-Before we enter upon our examination of this picture it will be necessary to ask a question-What are the requisites which the critic would expect to find in a composition of this sort? What would he No. IV. Vol. I.

exact from the artist; what would his taste approve; what would satisfy his judgment? He would expect, in the conception of the story, that which should distinguish it from all other subjects, and give it that peculiarity of character, without which no work of the pencil can ever be rendered sufficiently decided to be original or lasting. When we examine the above picture by this rule, we cannot admit that the story is so told as to place it among those permanent compositions which preclude from success every future effort upon a similar subject. In the character of Ugolino, under the peculiar misfortune of his

imprisonment and overthrow, surrounded by his famished family, and in a situation which admitted no hope, we naturally expect to find the children looking to the father for assistance and consolation, who, incapable of affording them relief, but still expressing tenderness and compassion for them, has nothing left in his power but paternal affection and emotion. But in the present groupe, Ugolino has the appearance of a man who, having in a fit of phrenzy destroyed the young female who lies across his knees, has just returned to a sense of reason and remorse at the act which he has perpetrated. He has nothing of the character, either in action or passion, of a father who has lost a favourite child by famine. By this material error, that of the professed story, as it were, being not only imperfectly narrated, but absolutely untold, the artist has entirely lost the passion he must have intended to enforce; he has substituted horror for pathos, and depictured ferocity instead of sympathy.

The figure of the daughter, as thrown across the knees of the father, from the perpendicular hanging of the limbs in right angles with the position of the body, conveys more the idea of a drowned figure, just taken from the waters, than that of a female emaciated and contracted by famine. The sudden dropping of the limbs likewise takes off from the length which the just proportions of the body require, and renders the drawing essentially imperfect. The body is too short; in fact there is scarcely any body at all; the whole figure is arms and legs. The scene of this picture being cast, in a dungeon, we of course expected to see a gloom pervading every part, but it should be remembered that there is a distinction always to be supported between the transparency of tints, though gloomy, and tints that are black and heavy; and we could have wished that this picture did not partake so much of the last quality in point of the colour.

There is in the works of Mr. Fuseli an originality of thought which gives a very marked character to his pictures, and for which we are in clined to admire and honour him; but it is some.

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times matter of regret to us that, in the compo-veys a self-approbation of the sagacity and supe sitions of this artist, the subject is rather made to riority of his mind over those of his hearers; bend to the mind than the mind to conform to while the man before him, who is evidently a the subject. Thus the general stamp of his pic-blacksmith, seems to hold his sentiments cheap, tures is too much uniformity of thinking, and a notwithstanding all his self-consequence and dichabit which borders upon mannerism.

tatorial parade. These two figures are dmirably characteristic of the conceit which a little know

ledge produces upon vulgar minds; they evince great observation of rustic nature, and the influence of the little heats of parties and politics upon such as would naturally be supposed beyond the sphere of their operation. The expression of the face of the man, reading the paper, indicates with much felicity his composed and settled acquiescence in the conclusions of his own mind, his undaunted adherence to his own

No. 5, Love sheltered. H. Thompson. R. A. The poetry of this picture is pleasing, and the groupe well imagined. The young female, rising upon her toes, is admirably expressive of an eagerness to assist the benighted Cupid. The tone of colour in the picture, partaking of a silvery tint, is characteristic of the delicacy of the subject; and gives to the general effect of the piece a harmony which is perfectly consonant with the thought. So far we are warranted in opinions, amidst the din of his battling associates. commending this picture; but when we survey He is easy and quiet, and thinks for himself; it by the higher principles of science and of art, whilst another man, in the opposite part of this we discern a want of precision in the drawing, picture, is scratching his head, seemingly sensible which indicates a general feebleness, and an evi- of his not having the eloquence of the " hadent deficiency in that knowledge of the human ranguing carpenter," but tolerably confident, in figure, which should always accompany works of his own mind, that he is the best informed man art, where the subject is ideal, and where the in the room.-The accompaniments to these forms should, of consequence, exhibit every thing figures are happy and appropriate, and every way that belongs to grace, taste, and accuracy of pen-expressive of the inside of a house that retails cil. In these qualities, however, the Cupid, as well as the undrapered parts of the female in this picture, are evidently deficient. But notwithstanding these imperfections, this composition of Mr. Thomson's has a claim to our praise for the chastity and elegance of its sentiment; though it does not augment his former reputation, when we revert to the merits of the picture of the Youth"Crossing the Brook."

No. 145.-Village Politicians, by D. Wilkie. This picture evidently represents a scene of the politicians of lower life, collected in a public house after the labours of the day, disputing upon some points of politics, which may be supposed, at that moment, to have interested every class of society, and to have found its way into the shop of the mechanic, and the cottage of the husbandraan. The idea is original. The principal figure which appears in this groupe, is a young carpenter, who, from the shrewd winking of his

eyes,
the expression of his mouth, the extended
arm, with the acute angle of the wrist, and the
end of the fore-finger on the table, happily con-

whiskey

The drawing of the heads in this picture, as well as that of the hands, is correct and natural. Such are the points which demand our commendation; and we sincerely hope that, whi'st this young artist is acquiring the other excellencies of the profession, he will most carefully endeavour not to lose what he has already obtained; that he will not suffer a little applause to divert his mind from the line of art for which his genius seems peculiarly to have qualified him, and which, in time, may give to this country a painter of stronger sentiments than have hitherto fallen even to the lot of Teniers, or the most admired masters of the Dutch School. Notwithstanding, however, our general admiration of those parts of the picture which we have described, we could wish in future that this artist would endeavour to give a little more force and warmth in the tone of his colours, which might remove something of the monotony of a claylike colour, which too much pervades the present picture.

To be continued.

MR. WEST'S GRAND HISTORICAL PICTURE

OF THE

DEATH OF LORD NELSON.

THIS celebrated Artist, who has so long maintained the first rank in his profession, and whose historical paintings have not only contributed to form the modern English School, but to establish || an æra in the art through the principal academies of Europe, has at length completed the picture, for which, in justice to his well-earned reputation and the eminence which he holds in the art, he stood pledged to the public and his profession.The pencil which immortalized Wolfe, and British valour, on the Heights of Abraham, could not be expected to do otherwise than commemo rate the death of a Nelson, and the most splendid victory which has ever been recorded in the annals of the British Navy.

done his duty to his King and Country. In the countenance of Nelson, the painter has shewn his power of exhibiting the most difficult and composite passions with the most natural and tempered correctness. In Nelson there is nothing of affectation; every thing is as simple as was the character of the man; there is a kind of serene and saint-like heroism, the comfort and composure of a dying martyr. This head can never be too much admired; it would be inestimable if considered only as a portrait of the man; for we do not hesitate to pronounce it the best we ever saw.

The position of Lord Nelson on the quarterdeck occupies the middle of the picture; he extends his left hand to Captain Hardy, who affectionately presses it to his bosom, whilst he an

enemy, and the number of ships taken. The surgeon and his mates are rendering their assist

It is a just pride to the nation that we have men amongst us, to whom may safely be confided all the immortality which the arts can be-nounces, from a paper, the victory over the stow upon the splendid actions of our heroes and defenders-A certain French General is said to have lamented, that he lived in an age so barrenance, whilst an intrepid sailor spreads the Spanish of literature, that he could not expect even a flag at the feet of the dying Admiral, and an decent epitaph on his tomb stone as a compen- Officer enters at the same time with the French sation for all the laurels he had earned. In the flag under his arm, but starts back, with marked present times there needs no such subject of re-emotion, upon beholding the situation of his gret. Poetry perhaps may fail, but the pencil can still perform its task.

The present picture represents the death of Lord Nelson in the memorable victory obtained over the fleets of France and Spain, off Cape Trafalgar. As this picture will not appear in any Exhibition, a description of it may not be un acceptable to the lovers of the art, and the public in general.

The subject of the picture being heroic, the Artist has considered it under the head of the Epic. He has kept the attention constantly fixed upon the hero, and made every thing subsidiary to him. The dying Nelson is exhibited lying upon the quarter-deck of the ship, surrounded by his Officers. By this groupe he first acts upon and excites the feelings of the spectators. Here is the hero, and, in the language of poetry, his story. The wounded and the dead form the episodes of the piece, and the whole raises a noble climax up to the dying Admiral.

||

Commander.

The picture, generally, may be said to consist of two distinct groups. The figures on the left form a groupe of Officers attendant on his Lordship; their countenances express a grave and decent sorrow, and are admirably contrasted with the groupe on the right, which consists of sailors flushed with the sounds of victory, but checked by one of the surgeons, who beholds the approach of death in the countenance of Nelson.

Between these figures, all of which are powerfully pourtrayed and contrasted, are groups of sailors carrying the wounded to the cockpit, and others rendering their best tokens of regard to the dead.

One of these smaller groups we can never too much commend; we mean that of an affectionate demeanour of a faithful servant over the dead body of his master, Captain Adair.

At the poop of the ship are stationed the marines and their wounded officers; the signal

The point of time is the death of the hero, and lieutenant, with his midshipman; and the master the victory united.

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of the ship, with his navigating seamen, Under the poop are men stationed at the gun, close to which a lieutenant is killed.

In the retiring parts of the picture, and the perspective, are seen all the rage and fury of a sea fight,-ships on fire, others sinking, or blow

ing up; of some the masts are falling; others are nearly buried in their own rums.

Here every thing is terrible and awful; here is sublimity in the fulness of its horrors.-The groups in this picture are composed of nearly eighty figures, and more than fifty of them are portraits of men and officers actually engaged in the battle.

The following is a correct list of the principal portraits in this picture :

Lord Nelson; Capt. Hardy, now Sir Thomas; Mr. Beatty, First Surgeon; Niel Smith, Second Surgeon; Rev. Dr. Scott, Chaplain; W. West enburgh, Third Surgeon.

Officers, being the groupe to the left of Lord Nelson.

Lieutenant Quillim; Lieutenant Bligh; Lieutenant Williams; Lieutenant King; Lieutenant Wing, with French colours; Mr. Goble, Secretary to Capt. Hardy; Mr. Rivers, the Gunner; Mr. R. Bulkeley, a Midshipman; W. Saunders, with the Spanish colours.

The groupe to the right of Lord Nelson, animated by the Victory.

Serjeant-Major Secker, of the Marines; Lieutenant Cheseman; Mr. Lancaster, a young Midshipman; Joseph Burgin, wounded Seaman ; David Bukin, carrying the wounded; Mr.Rivers, Midshipman; Capt. Adair, of the Marines, dead;|| Charles Chappel, his Servant; H. Carey; Mr.

Scott, Secretary; a Neapolitan Calabrian; Lieut. Rottley.

Groupe at the gun under the ship's poop. Lieutenant Ram, killed; Mr. Westhall, Midshipmam; Mr Lyons, Midshipman; Robert Drummond, Servant to Capt. Hardy; Thomas Bartlett, Capt. Hardy's Steward; J. Saunders, Powder-boy.

Groupe on the ship's poop.

Lieutenant Peak, led down wounded; Lieut. Reeves, wounded; Corporal Tuff, of the Marines; William Wells, Marine; young Midshipmen attending on the Signal Officer; Mr. Robertson; W. Randall; Alexander Palmer; Mr. Atkinson, Master of the Ship.

Such is this picture;-of which, independent of its excellence as a work of art, we may truly say, that the circumstances which produced its perfection can never occur again. It is impossible again to collect, in the painting-room of the artist, those various groupes of men whose portraits are upon the canvass, and whose individual likenesses were necessary for the fidelity of a composition which aspires to be considered as a work of historical record,-a work of truth, and not of fancy.

We shall not enter into a minute criticism; it will be sufficient to say, that Mr. West, in this picture, has excelled every thing he has hitherto done.

POETRY,

ORIGINAL AND SELECT.

A LOVING EPISTLE,

To his Grace the Duke of Queensbury, from his Arm Chair, in Piccadilly.

ALL London knows, my Lord, I've stood
Your waiting gentleman in wood,
For many a stormy year together,
Braving all sorts of wind and weather.
Some of your livery train may bridle,
Toss up their heads, and call me idle;
The varlets, with their powdered pate,
Think themselves greater than the great;
Yet, what not one of them can say,
I've served your honour without pay!
What though I never stir a peg,
What though I stand on wooden leg,
Pray which of them have been so steady,
So quiet, willing, or so ready?

More faithful than that favoured croney,
Your Grace's confidential poney,
For though that dear, loy'd hobby paces]
And shews you all the pretty faces,

Goes deftly through your morning tours,

I claim your Lordship's softer hours,
Your tender secrets he'll ne'er tell,
But I can keep them quite as well;
And the town says, you look more snug

Upon my cushion than his rug.

Safe in my arms you wake or doze,

Half shut the eyes, or quite repose;

And thus enjoy the morning air

Without once moving from your chair.
My Lord, confess your vis-a-vis
Is less a friend to you than me;

I, like King Richard at his glass,
Shew "the shadows as they pass ;"

you

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