a theatrical exhibition on the stage of him a half section of land, (320 acres) Vienna. He can utter the Hebrew and the pay of a captain, from the words of worship almost exactly like 15th of December, 1804, to the same a Rabbi in the Synagogue; he can re- period in 1805, being the time that cite the Christian Catholic ritual, he served as adjutant and inspector after the manner of the Capuchins; of the army of the United States in and he pronounces the religious sen« Egypt, and on the coast of Africa. tences of the Mussulmen in Arabic, Leitensdorfer is at present but fortywith the earnestness and emphasis of eight years of age, strong, and heala Mufti. To complete this "strange, thy, and if his rambling disposition eventful history," the Congress of should continue, likely to add many America have, at the instance of Mr. more pages to a biography, which, Bradley, who detailed the leading in- perhaps, has few parallels, except in cidents of his life on the floor of the the adventures and vicissitudes of senate, passed a bill, bestowing on Trenck.



No. XI. ON A LANDSCAPE OF NICOLAS POUSSIN. Orion, the subject of this land- alone has a right to be considered as scape, was the classical Nimrod, and the painter of classical antiquity. is called by Homer, “ a hunter of Sir Joshua has done him justice in shadows, himself a shade.” He was this respect. He could give to the the son of Neptune, and having lost scenery of his heroic fables that unan eye in some affray between the impaired look of original nature, full, Gods and men, was told that if he solid, large, luxuriant, teeming with would go to meet the rising sun, he life and power; or deck it with all the would recover his sight. He is re- pomp of art, with temples and towpresented setting out on his journey, ers, and mythologic groves. His with men on his shoulders to guide pictures “ denote a foregone concluhim; a bow in his hand, and Diana in sion." He moulds nature to his purthe clouds greeting him. He stalks poses, works out her images accordalong, a giant upon earth, and reels ing to the standard of his thoughts, and falters in his gait, as if just a- embodies high fictions; and, the first waked out of sleep, or uncertain of conception being given, the rest seem his way, so that you see his blind- to grow out of, and be assimilated to ness, though his back is turned. it, by the invariable process of a stuMists rise around him, and veil the dious imagination. Like his own sides of the green forests; earth is Orion, he overlooks the surrounding dank and fresh with dews, " the grey scene, appears to “ take up the isles dawn and the Pleiades before him as a very little thing, and to lay the dance," and in the distance are seen earth in a balance. With a labothe blue hills and sullen ocean. No- rious and mighty grasp, he put nathing was ever more finely conceived ture into the mould of the ideal and or done. It breathes the spirit of antique ; and was among painters the morning; its moisture, its re- (more than any body else) what Milpose, its obscurity, waiting the mira. ton was among poets. There is in cle of light to kindle it into smiles: both something of the same pedanthe whole is, like the principal figure try, the same stiffness, the same elein it, “ a forerunner of the dawn.” vation, the same grandeur, the same The same atmosphere tinges and im- mixture of art and nature, the same bues every object, the same dull richness of borrowed materials, the light “ shadowy sets off” the face of same unity of character. Neither the nature: one feeling of vastness, of poet nor the painter lowered the substrangeness, and of primeval forms jects they treated, but filled up the pervades the painter's canvas, and outline in the fancy, and added we are thrown back upon the first in- strength and reality to it; and thus, tegrity of things. This great and not only satisfied, but surpassed the learned man might be said to see na- expectations of the spectator and the tyre through the glass of time; he, reader. This is held for the triumph

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and the perfection of works of artthey cannot paint the objects which 20 give us nature, such as we see they have seen, they fancy themit, is well and deserving of praise; selves qualified to paint the ideas to give us nature, such as we have which they have not seen. But it is never seen, but have often wished to possible to fail in this latter and more see it, is better, and deserving of difficult style of imitation, as well as higher praise. He who can show the in the former humbler one. The deworld in its first naked glory, with tection, indeed, is not so easy, bethe hues of fancy spread over it, or cause the objects are not so nigh at in its high and palmy state, with the hand to compare, and therefore there gravity of history stamped on the is more room, both for false pretenproud monuments of vanished em- sion, and for self-deceit. They take pire-who, by his « so potent art," an epic motto, or subject, and think can recal time past, transport us to that the spirit is implied as a thing distant places, and join the regions of course. They paint inferior porof imagination (a new conquest) to traits, maudlin lifeless faces, without those of reality,—who shows us not ordinary expression, or one look, feaonly what nature is, but what she ture, or particle of nature in them, has been, and is capable of,—he who and think that this is to rise to the does this, and does it with simplicity, truth of history. They vulgarise with truth, and grandeur, is lord of and degrade whatever is interesting nature and her powers; and his or sacred to the mind, and think that mind is universal, and his art the they thus add to the dignity of their master-art !

profession. They represent a face "There is nothing in this " more that looks as if no thought or feeling than natural," if criticism could be of any kind had ever passed through persuaded to think so. The historic it ; and would have you believe that painter does not neglect 'or contra- this is the very sublime of expresvene nature, but follows her more sion, such as it would appear in heclosely up into her fantastic heights, roes, or demi-gods of old, when rapor hidden recesses. He demonstrates ture or agony was raised to its what she would be in conceivable height. They show you a landscape circumstances, and under implied that looks as if the sun never shone conditions. He “ gives to airy no- upon it, and tell you that it is not thing a local 'habitation,” not“ a modem—that so earth looked when name." At his touch, words start up Titan first kissed it with his rays. into images, thoughts become things. This is not the true ideal. It is not He clothes a dream, a phantom with to fill the moulds of the imagination, form and colour, and the wholesome but to deface and injure them: it is attributes' of reality. His art is a not to come up to, but to fall short of second nature, not a different one. the poorest conception in the pubThere are those, indeed, who think lic mind. Such pictures should not that not to copy nature, is the rule be hung in the same room with that of for attaining perfection. Because Blind Orion hungry for the morn.*

* Every thing tends to show the manner in which a great artist is formed. If any one could claim an exemption from the careful imitation of individual objects, it was Nicolas Poussin. He studied the Antique, but he also studied nature. “ I have often admired," says Vignuel de Marville, who knew him at a late period of his life, “ the love he had for his art. Old as he was, I frequently saw him among the ruins of ancient Rome, out in the Campagna, or along the banks of the Tyber, sketching a scene that had pleased him; and I often met him with his handkerchief full of stones, moss, or flowers, which he carried home, that he might copy them exactly from nature. One day I asked him how he had attained to such a degree of perfection, as to have gained so high a rank among the great painters of Italy ? He answered, I HAVE NEGLECTED NOTHING.”See his Life lately published. It appears from this account that he had not fallen into a recent error, that Nature puts the man of genius out. As a contrast to the foregoing description, I might mention, that I remember an old gentleman once asking Mr. West in the British Gallery, if he had ever been at Athens ? To which the President made answer, No; nor did he feel any great desire to go ; for that he thought he had as good an idea of the place from the Catalogue, as he could get by living there for any number of years. What would he have said, if any one had told him, they could get as good an idea of the subject of one of his great works from reading the Catalogue of it, as from seeing the picture itself! Yet the answer was characteristic of the genius of the painter.

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Poussin was, of all painters, the It was a suffusion of golden light. most poetical. He was the painter The Goddess wore her saffron-coof ideas. No one ever told a story loured robes, and appeared just risen half so well, nor so well knew what from the gloomy bed of old Tithonus. was capable of being told by the Her yery steeds, milk-white, were pencil. 'He seized on, and struck off tinged with the yellow dawn. It with grace and precision, just that was a personification of the morning. point of view which would be likely - Poussin succeeded better in classic to catch the reader's fancy. There than in sacred subjects. The latter is a significance, a consciousness in are comparatively heavy, forced, full whatever he does (sometimes a vice, of violent contrasts of colour, of red, but oftener a virtue) beyond any blue, and black, and without the true other painter. His Giants sitting on prophetic inspiration of the characthe tops of craggy mountains, as huge ters. But in his Pagan allegories themselves, and playing idly on their and fables he was quite at home. The Pan’s-pipes, seem to have been seat- native gravity and native levity of ed there these three thousand years, the Frenchman were combined with and to know the beginning and the Italian scenery and an antique gusto, end of their own story. An infant and gave even to his colouring an air Bacchus, or Jupiter, is big with his of learned indifference.

He wauts, future destiny. Even inanimate and in one respect, grace, form, expresdumb things speak a language of sion; but he has every where sense their own. His snakes, the messen- and meaning, perfect costume and gers of fate, are inspired with hu- propriety. His personages always man intellect. His trees grow and belong to the class and time repreexpand their leaves in the air, glad of sented, and are strictly versed in the the rain, proud of the sun, awake to business in hand. His grotesque comthe winds of Heaven. In his Plague positions in particular, his Nymphs of Athens, the very buildings seem and Fauns, are superior (at least, as stiff with horror. His picture of the far as style is concerned) even to Deluge is, perhaps, the finest histo- Rubens's. They are taken more imrical landscape in the world. You mediately out of fabulous history. see a waste of waters, wide, inter- Rubens's Satyrs and Bacchantes have minable: the sun is labouring, wan a more jovial and voluptuous aspect, and weary, up the sky; the clouds, are more drunk with pleasure, more dull and leaden, lie like a load upon full of animal spirits and riotous imthe eye, and heaven and earth seem pulses, they laugh and bound alongcommingling into one confused mass! His huinan figures are sometimes Leapinglike wanton kids in pleasant spring ; « o'er informed” with this kind of but those of Poussin have more of feeling Their actions have too the intellectual part of the character, much gesticulation, and the set ex- and seem vicious on reflection, and pression of the features borders too of set purpose. Rubens's are noble much on the mechanical and carica- specimens of a class ; Poussin's are tured style. In this respect, they allegorical abstractions of the same form a contrast to Raphael's, whose class, with bodies less pampered, but figures never appear to be sitting for with minds more secretly depraved. their pictures, or to be conscious of a The Bacchanalian groups of the Flespectator, or to have come from the mish painter were, however, his painter's hand. In Nicolas Poussin, master-pieces in composition. Witon the contrary, every thing seems ness those prodigies of colour, chato have a mutual understanding with racter, and expression, at Blenheim. the artist : “the very stones prate of In the more chaste and refined delia their whereabout:” each object has neation of classic fable, Poussin was its part and place assigned, and is in without a rival. Rubens, who was a a sort of compact with the rest of match for him in the wild and picthe picture. It is this conscious turesque, could not pretend to vie keeping, and, as it were, internal de- with the elegance and purity of sign, that gives their peculiar cha- thought, in his picture of Apollo giv, racter to the works of this artist. ing a poet a cup of water to drink; There was a picture of Aurora in the nor with the gracefulness of design in British Gallery a year or two ago. the figure of a nymph squeezing the

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juice of a bunch of grapes from her are various, but the names the same fingers (a rosy wine-press) which - heaps of Rembrandts frowning falls into the mouth of a chubby in- from the darkened walls, Rubens's fant below. But, above all, who glad gorgeous groups, Titians more shall celebrate, in terms of fit praise, rich and rare, Claudes always exhis picture of the shepherds in the quisite, sometimes beyond compare, Vale of Tempe going out in a fine Guido's endless cloying sweetness, morning of the spring, and coming to the learning of Poussin and the Ca. à tomb with this inscription :-Et racci, and Raphael's princely magEGO IN ARCADIA vixı! "The eager nificence, crowning all. We read curiosity of some, the expression of certain letters and syllables in the others who start back with fear catalogue, and at the well-known and surprise, the clear breeze play- magic sound, a miracle of skill and ing with the branches of the shadow- beauty starts to view. One would ing trees, “the valleys low, where think that one year's prodigal disthe mild zephyrs use,” the distant, play of such perfection would exhaust uninterrupted, sunny prospect speak the labours of one man's life; but the (and for ever will speak on) of ages next year, and the next to that, we past to ages yet to come!

find another harvest reaped and gaPictures are a set of chosen images, thered in to the great garner of art, a stream of pleasant thoughts passa by the same immortal handsing through the mind. It is a luxury Old Genius the porter of them was ; to have the walls of our rooms hung He letteth in, he letteth out to wend. round with them, and no less so to Their works seem endless as their rehave such a gallery in the mind, to putation—to be many as they are con over the relics of ancient art complete - to multiply with the desire

" within the book and of the mind to see more and more of volume of the brain, unmixed (if it them; as if there were a living were possible) with baser matter!” power in the breath of Fame, and in A life passed among pictures, in the the very names of the great heirs of study and the love of art, is a happy, glory “there were propagation too!" noiseless dream: or rather, it is to It is something to have a collection dream and to be awake at the same of this sort to look forward to once a time ; for it has all “ the sober cer- year; to have one last, lingering look tainty of waking bliss,” with the ro- yet to come. Pictures are scattered mantic voluptuousness of a visionary like stray gifts through the world, and and abstracted being. They are while they remain, earth has yet a the bright consummate essences of little gilding left, not quite rubbed things, and “ he who knows of out, dishonoured and defaced. There these delights to taste and interpose are plenty of standard works still to them oft, is not unwise !” - The be found in this country, in the colOrion, which I have here taken oc- lections at Blenheim, at Burleigh, casion to descant upon, is one of a and in those belonging to Mr. Ancollection of excellent pictures, as gerstein, Lord Grosvenor, the Marthis collection is itself one of a series quis of Stafford and others, to keep from the old masters, which have for up this treat to the lovers of art for some years back embrowned the many years : and it is the more dewalls of the British Gallery, and en- sirable to reserve a privileged sancriched the public eye. What hues, tuary of this sort, where the eye may (those of nature mellowed by time) doat, and the heart take its fill of breathe around, as we enter! What such pictures as Poussin's Orion, forms are there, woven into the me- since the Louvre is stripped of its mory! What looks, which only the triumphant spoils, and since he, who answering looks of the spectator can collected it, and wore it as a rich express! What intellectual stores jewel in his Iron Crown, the liunter have been yearly poured forth from of greatness and of glory, is himself the shrine of ancient art! The works a shade!


Poussin has repeated this subject more than once, and appears to have revelled in its witcheries. I have before alluded to it, and may again. It is hard that we should not be allowed to dwell as often as we please on what delights us, when things that are disagreeable recur so often against our will.



It has long been my custom, when- that the pleasure is partly over with ever I have found a book that I had the chase. It was, indeed, a very never before heard of, warmly, and sensible, well-written, elegant work to all appearance disinterestedly, of the Cardinal's ; and, I believe, commended by any writer who has much better adapted to practice himself gained my confidence, not to than the system constructed by Jean rest satisfied till I have seen what it Jacques, or any of the modern school, is that has induced him to give this to all which, if I remember right, circulating letter of credit to another. the judicious critic above-mentioned Thus it was, some years ago, that in prefers it. Yet must it be acknowreading the history of Italian litera- ledged that the “ Emile,” which ture by Tiraboschi, I met with such came to me unsought, and “uncommendations of a tractate on the wooed was won,

,” afforded me far subject of education (then, and ever higher entertainment. There is the since, a very interesting one to me), same kind of difference as between as determined me to seize the first Plato's republic, and an essay on the occasion that offered itself of perus- British Constitution; or that which ing it. Many a day passed before Fuseli has well observed, between the the arrival of this desired moment. Epic and Historic styles in painting, Many a bookseller's catalogue did I that “ the one astonishes, the other turn over, and more than one public informs.” But this is an age that library did I visit, to no purpose, in very sagely has taken “ nil ádmirari" this search. Scarcely can any one for its motto; when our children but an old fisherman, who has been read no fairy tales, and our stateswatching his float through a long men* no metaphysics, except “ Locke summer's evening, and seen it, after on the Hunian Understanding :” and, lying motionless on the surface of the therefore, a brief account of Šadoleti's water, at last making two or three lit- book, that has nothing chimerical in tle ducks and nods, and then drawn it but the conclusion, may not come briskly in a sidelong direction down- amiss. wards, imagine the joy I felt when It is in the form of a dialogne, a one of Mr. Payne's brochures opened favourite one with the writers of that a glimpse of the long-sought treasure time (Leo the Tenth), but more in to my view. It was not in that plea- Cicero's manner than in that of Plato. sant nook near the Mews' gate, where The author represents himself holdI used to angle for such prey in my ing a discourse with a very discreet college days, almost as retired and young man, his nephew, the care of unseen as under the alders in whose education had been entrusted park; but from the spacious reser- to him, and who came every day to voir to which the vivarium has since lecture in Aristotle's ethics, with his been transferred, that I drew my tutor and kinsinan. At the request booty to shore. It was “Sadoletus of Paolo, who comes somewhat earde Liberis recte instituendis " itself. lier than usual, for the sake of makWhether it were from the habit I ing the inquiry, his uncle readily had, when a boy, of throwing my fish, enters on an explanation of what he when caught, immediately into my conceives the best mode of bringing pouch, and not letting them lie on up a young person; and beginning the bank, lest they should spring from his infancy, gives some prudent back again into the stream, I know directions as to the choice of a nurse, not; but so it was, that the money though he strongly advises that, if was no sooner out of one pocket, possible, that office should be disthan my purchase was in the other. charged by the mother herself. Till Reader, thou knowest in what such the reason is capable of acting, dispursuits usually end. Thou knowest cipline, it is observed, is all in all;

See the Bishop of Winchester's Life of Mr. Pitti

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