and unsound, and, though much of it is exceedingly beautiful in quality, it would be difficult to find blocks suitable for forming the friese and cornice of a truly majestic portico. By using short blocks. as lintels over the columns, the mason is compelled to form an invisible interior arch to prevent the stones from dropping down, and over the whole he extends a massy bar of iron, clamped in at the ends, to prevent his concealed arch from shouldering the pillars asunder. This defect is visible enough even in the works of Wren. A portico constructed in that manner contains within itself the principles of destruction; but we must not blame English architects for the nature of English

stone.

KENT.

WILLIAM KENT is to be numbered among those fortunate men, who, without high qualities of mind or force of imagination, obtain wealth and distinction through good sense, easy assurance, and that happy boldness of manner which goes rejoicing along the way where original merit often hesitates and stumbles. Much of what we know of him is through the friendly medium of Horace Walpole, who, incapable of appreciating the fine genius of Vanbrugh, found a man to his mind in Kent, and lavished such praise upon him as I hesitate to transcribe. But the man who could see in Lord Burlington the Apollo of architecture, may be forgiven for mistaking Kent for its high priest, "the great restorer of its science," and the "inventor" of landscape gardening, an art which, according to his lordship, "realizes painting and improves nature." It is natural to ask where are the works by which such magnificence of eulogy is to be justified? and in answer, I can only say, a few houses of moderate elegance still attest that Kent was an architect; an altarpiece or two mouldering in the churches of London signify that he claimed the name of a painter; the wretched monument to Shakspeare, in Westminster Abbey, bears his name; in some moth-frequented wardrobe a dow

ager's gown may still survive with a temple designed by this man of many trades on its capacious skirts; and the gardens of Carlton-house may yet be present to the memories of some of my readers, as well as these words of Walpole: "Mahomet imagined an Elysium, but Kent created many."

His parentage was humble but respectable: he was born in the North Riding of Yorkshire, in 1684, received the common rudiments of education, and was apprenticed to a coach painter--tradition says, in the fourteenth year of his age. From this north country practitioner he soon acquired sufficient knowledge in the application of colours to believe himself capable of commencing for himself, and accordingly, without any quarrel or even intimation, he quitted his master, in the nineteenth year of his age, and repaired to London. Walpole, who probably had his account from Lord Burlington, says, "he felt the emotions of genius and so left his master without leave." A dislike of his master was probably the cause of this step-at all events, that the light by which he ran off was not that of heaven, is proved sufficiently by the works which he produced on his arrival in London. If the paintings of his manhood, after he had spent many years in Italy, were such sad frights as to render it a matter of some difficulty for a Hogarth to caricature them, what must those early daubings have been of which Walpole says, that "they excited a generous patronage in some gentlemen of his own country, who raised a contribution sufficient to send him to Rome, in the year 1710?"

This journey to Rome took place, we are told, in his six-and-twentieth summer-after Kent had

employed six or seven years in London in the attempt to establish himself as a painter of portraits and history. "In the capital of the arts," says Walpole, "he studied under Cavalier Lutin, and in the academy gained the second prize of the second class, still without suspecting that there was a sister art within his reach more congenial to his talents. Though his first resources were exhausted he still found friends. One of his countrymen, Sir William Wentworth, allowed him £40 a year for seven years." Rome at that period swarmed with wealthy Englishmen, all eager to exchange their gold for the paintings and sculptures of Italy. One of the most distinguished was Lord Burlington, then very young and newly come to his ample inheritance. In the year 1716, Kent had the good fortune to obtain the notice of this generous nobleman, "whose sagacity," says Walpole, " discovered the rich vein of genius which had been hid from the artist himself." His labours as a painter delighted Lord Burlington, who carried him home to England, gave him apartments in his own house, and added all the influence of his recommendation to hand him up to fame. 'By his interest," continues Walpole, "Kent was employed in various works both as a painter of history and portrait; and yet it must be allowed that, in each branch, partiality must have operated strongly to make his lordship believe he discovered any merit in his friend. His portraits bore little resemblance to the persons that sat for them; and the colouring was worse, more raw and undetermined than that of the most arrant journeyman to the profession. The whole-lengths at Esher are standing evidences

of this assertion. In his ceilings, Kent's drawing was as defective as the colouring of his portraits, and as void of every merit." The protege of Lord Burlington filled Wanstead House with frescos-painted several ceilings in chiaro-scuro for Sir Robert Walpole at Hampton, and a staircase for Lord Townshend at Rainham, &c. &c. In these performances he dealt largely in gods and allegories, but he had neither form for the one nor colour for the other, and all the praises of peers would not have sustained him much longer before the public eye, had he not luckily stumbled upon that unwrought vein of architecture, the discovery of which has been imputed by Walpole to his first patron.

It was observed that whenever he introduced temples or palaces in his paintings, these things had a certain air of classic elegance and scientific accuracy, which made some atonement for the absence of all sentiment in the figures. Kent was a shrewd man, and did not neglect the hint which this species of commendation supplied. In former days, we must remember, art was not divided and subdivided as it is now; Holbein had turned his skilful hand to household furniture, nay, to knives and forks, as well as to portraiture; Inigo Jones shone in dramatic scenery as well as in palaces; Wren had earned fame in all departments of science; and Vanbrugh's drama eclipsed for a time his architecture. Kent knew all this, and resolved in like manner to spread himself out, disdaining nothing that could please the tastes or caprices of the time. He presently attracted much notice by his skill in interior arrangements,-he could plan