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VIRTUE, CITY ROAD. /f <34 ^ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2018 with funding from Getty Research Institute https://archive.org/details/artjournal2018unse LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS. ElMORAVINGS FROM THE ROYAL PICTURES. PAINTERS. ENGRAVERS. PAGE 1. DISARMING OF CUPID. . P. Liylitfoot . 4 2. OPENING OF NEW LONDON BRIDGE. . C. Stanfield, R.A.. . T. A. Prior. . . 16 3. THE SPANISH LETTER-WRITER . . J. Phillip, A.R.A. . . L. Stocks, A.R.A. . 36 4. KILCHURN CASTLE. . R. Wallis . . 56 5. THE KING AT HOLYROOD .... . . Sir D. Wilkie ... . . W. Greatbach. . 68 6. THE NOON-DAY WALK .... • H. JUTSUM .... . R. Brandard . . 92 7. THE SPRING HEAD. . . E. Brandard . 108 8. THE YOUNG FALCONER .... . F. Tayler .... C. W. Sharpe . . 120 9. THE GOOD SAMARITAN .... • . Sir C. L. Eastlake, P.R.A. . . S. Smith. . 131 10. SIR WALTER SCOTT. • Sir T. Lawrence. . J. Horshiirgh . . 144 11. THE NEGRO PAGE. . . CUYP. . 172 12. FAMILY OF CHARLES I. . Y'an Dyck .... . H. Bourne. . . 180 13. ISCHIA. . R. Brandard . 197 14. THE INFANT CHRIST .... . Carlo Maratti . Lecomte . . 212 15. IL PENSEROSO. . T. Garner . 230 16. THE STORM. W. Miller . . 240 17. MARRIAGE OF ST. CATHERINE. • . Van Dyck .... W. Ridgicay . 260 18. FARM AT LACKEN. . Rubens. . A. Willmore . . 272 19. THE OLD MILL. . J. Cousen . 292 20. THE FOOT-BATH. . P. Pelee . . 300 21. THE JAGER’S WIFE. . 324 22. CROSSING THE FORD .... . . N. Berghem .... . J. Cousen . . 336 23. THE BUNCH OF GRAPES .... . . G. Metztj .... G. Levy. . 354 24. THE WATERFALL. . E. Radclyffe. . . 364 SCULPTURE. SCULPTORS. ENGRAVERS. PAGE 1. THE LAST DREAM. . . R. A. Artlett .. . 24 2. THE WOUNDED AT SCUTARI .... . T. Phyffers. . J. H. Baker . 48 3. THOMAS CAMPBELL. . . W. C. Marshall, R.A. . . W.H.Mote. . . 88 4. HELEN FAUCIT. . J . B?’02on. . 124 5. THOMAS MOORE. . . W. Roffe . . 156 6. WILLIAM WILBERFORCE. . S. Joseph . J. Brow?i. . 190 7. JOHN HAMPDEN. . . W. Roffe. . . 220 8. SIR J. C. NAPIER. . G. G. Adams. . R. A. Artlett. . 252 9. THE YOUNG HUSSAR— LORD FITZGIBBON . . P. MacDowell, R.A.. . . W. Roffe . . 284 10. WILLIAM PITT . . .... . P. MacDowell, R.A. W. H. Mote . 308 11. J. M. W. TURNER. W. Roffe . . 340 12. GEORGE STEPHENSON. . J. H. Baker . 872 h CONTENTS, Album for the Princess Pretlerick William, 94 American Art in Germany, 92 Anderson, A., Biography of, 271. Angelico da Fiesole, 349 Antonio, Sale of Engravings by Marc, 254 Antwerp Bourse, 283 Antwerp Exhibition, 310 Arcliitects’ Institute, 158 Arcliiteetural Exhibition, 54 Architectiu'al Muscnm, 55, 127 Architectural Photographic Association, 47 Architectni’e of the Streets, 29 Arsenic in Paper-Hangings, 240, 30fi Art in Continental States : — Amsterdam, 370 Antwerp, 310, 311 Australia, 307, 304 Berlin, 10, 4S, 250, 337, 370 Cologne, 270 Dantzic, 311 Dresden, 270 Diisseldorf, 122, 181, 337, 370 Hamburgh, 337 Hanover, 48 Jena, 10 Sleiningen, 370 jMoscovv, 1 0 Aliinich, 276, 345, 309 Nuremberg, 311 Paris, 16, 47, 92, 122, 148, 181, 218, 250, 270, 311, 337, 369,371 Rome, 122, 181 Stuttgart, 337 Tasmania, 319 Venice, 48, Vienna, 47, 370 Worms, 311 Art in the Provinces : — Banbnry, 130, 221 Belfast, 124, 221, 270 Birmingham, 89, 125, 130, 189, 244, 270, 310 Bridgewater, 368 Brighton, 89, 337 Bristol, 158, 221, 368 Cambridge, 300 Cheltenham, 8 Clonmel, 319 Devonport, 125 Dublin, 124, 221, 254, 276 Dudley, 8 Dundee, 45, 221 Dunfermline, 45 Edinburgh, 100, 136, 221, 276, 368 Ely, 254 Exeter, 189 Glasgow, 45, 283 Halifax, 130 Hexham, 300 Leeds, 276, 300 Liverpool, 29, 89, 136, 244, 300, 309, 347 Llandatf, 270 Manchester, 8, 45, 124, 189, 309 Midland Counties, 270 Newcastle-under-Lyne, 125 Norwich, 136, 189 Nottingham, 368 Oxford, 30, 62 Scarborough, 136, 276 Sheffield, 89 Southampton, 270 Art in the Provinces : — Stirling, 276 Sunderland, 89 Taunton, 45, 189, 337 Torquay, 189 Warrington, 8 Wolverhampton, 45. 270, 300 Worcester, 45 Yarmouth, 221, 300 York, 189 Artistic Copyright, 53, 95, 125, 205, 285, 330, 309 Artists’ and Amateurs’ Conversazione, 01, 93, 127, 190 Ai'tists’ Benevolent Ennd, 158, 190 Artists’ General Benevolent Institution, 126,158, 287 Artists of Florence, Early, 289, 321 Art-Manufactures Association, 319, 373 Art-Season of 1858, 290 Art-Society, Proposed New, 374 Art-Treasures Exhibition : — Lectures on, 29 Memorial of, 127 Sale of the Building, 189 iVi-t-Union of London, 183, 221, 2S3 Art-Union Societies, New Act on, 287 Aston Hall Picture Gallery, 244 Australia, Picture-Jobbing in, 307 Baillie’s Picture Collection at Antwerp, 311 Baily, E. IL, 287 Ballarat, Art in, 364 Bellini, G., 05, 97 Birmingham Society of Artists, 89, 189, 310 Black-Paper Pictures, 02 Bonifazio, V., 257 Bordone, P., 258 Botany, as adapted to the Arts, &c., 37, 237, 293, 333, 362 Bridge in St. James’s Park, 14 British Artists ; — Bonington, R. P., 137 Etty, W., 233 Harvey, G., 73 Hulme, F. W., 101 Le Jeunc, H,, 265 Lewis, J. F., 41 Linton, W., 9 Roberts, D., 201 Tayler, F., 329 Wilkie, Sir D., 301 British Association, 324 British Institution : — Exhibition of Modern Art, 77 Exhibition of Old Masters, 21 7 Pictures lent for Copying, 317, 373 British jMnseum, 29, 319, 374 Bunch of Grapes, The, 354 Campbell, Thomas, 88 Canadian Crystal Palace, 317, 374 Canterbury Hall, 367 Garrick s Photographic Pictures, 318 Colours obtained from the Animal Kingdom, 45 Colours (Vegetable) used in the Fine Arts, 70 Copeland’s Statuary Porcelain, 95 Correspondence : — American Art in Germany, 92 Arsenic in Paper-Hangings, 306 Drawing-Master, The, 307, 367 Hardinge, Foley’s Statue of Lord, 232 Landscape-Painting, New, 157 Correspondence : — Obelisk as a Feature of Art, 806 Picture Copyright, Law of, 336 Picture- Jobbing in Australia, 307 Ruskin and Constable, 198 Varnish, Porcelain, 367 What is a Taste for the Fine Arts? 108 Costumes, Weigel’s Book of, 347 Crimean Monument in St. James’s Park, 255 Crimean Pictures, Barrett’s, 191 Crossing the Ford, 336 Crystal Palace ; — Arrangements, New, 212 Art-Union, 287, 319 Boutell’s Lectures, 254 British Sculpture, 253 Ceramic Court, 63 Clu'istmas Revels, 61 Director, New, 158 F’oreign Pictures, 30 Picture Gallery, 286 Resignation of Manager, 125 Winter Campaign, 319, 347 Crystal Palace at New York, Destruction of, 373 Decorative Art, Examples of, 57, 117, 269 Devon and Exeter Graphic Society, 189 Disarming of Cupid, 4 Drawing-Masters, 307, 367 Drawing-Pencils, Tubular, 62, 318 Drawing School, Paris Imperial, 371 Dresden hluseum, 276 Dublin Ai’t-Uuion, 368 Dublin National Gallery, 254 Dulwich College, Catalogue of Pictures, 1 27 Diisseldorf Exhibition, 337 Dyes procured from Guano, &c., 153 Eastlake, Sir Charles, 158 Egypt and Palestine, 229 Electro Bronzes, French, 374 Elkington’s Dinner-Service for Duke of Brabant, 95 EUiotype, The, 148 Emanuel’s Prize Plate, 287 Exhibition of Engravings, Proposed, 62 Exhibition of 1851, 02, 93, 125, 223 Exhibition of 1861, Proposals for, 127, 158, 319 Exhibitions : — Bonheur’s (Mdlle.) Pictures, 191 F’rench Pictures, 176 Inkermann, Protais’ Pictures of, 189 Proscribed Royalist, &c., 287 Rippingille’s Pictures, 95 Werner’s Drawings, 189 Winter, 354 Family of Charles I., 180 Farm at Lacken, 273 Faucit, Helen, 124 Flaxman’s Bas-Reliefs at Covent Garden, 255 Florentine Artists, Early, 289, 321 Foot-Bath, The, 300 French Gallery, Exhibition in, 112, 287, 354 Gainsborough’s Paintings in Pall Mall, 347 Giorgione, 267 Glasgow Art-Union, 283 Good Samaritan, 131 Government Offices’ Prize Designs, 29 Graphic Society, 127 Green Park, 158 Guildhall on Lord Mayor’s Day, 374 Hamlet, Pacsimile Early Edition, 347 Hammersley, Pictures by J. A., 45 Hampden, 220 Hampstead Conversazione, 61, 93, 126 Havelock, Bust of, 126 Home for Gentlewomen, 94 Houses of Parliament, 17, 317, 373 Hunt, Portrait of Mr. Robert, 373 Illusthated Literature, 60 Illustrated Newspaper, New, 30 II Penseroso, 230 Infant Christ, 212 Irish Institution, 276 Irish National Gallery, 254 Iron Castings, 220 Ischia, 197 Jager’s Wife, 324 Joubert’s Patent for Steel Plates, 319, 356 Kensington Museum : — Additional Contents, 190, 255 Engravings, Mr. Obituary : — Hamilton, T., 157 Havell, W., 24 Hogan, J., 157, 254 Holme, A., 24 Kearney, W. IL, 253 Kiigler, F., 157 Loudon, Mrs., 282 Minton, H., 157, 189 Owen, S., 62 Rauch, C., 24 Scheffer, Ary, 223, 252, 370 Old Mill, The, 292 Olympian Games, 356 Opening of New London Bridge, 16 Original Designs ; — ^ Bellows (G. Sykes), 211 Candlesticks (H. Fitzcook), 146 Chair (H. Fitzcook), 146 Cornice (H. Whitaker), 147 Cruet-Frame (H. Fitzcook), 211 Decorations (W. .1. Miickley), 210 Floral Ornaments (V. Howard), 22 Inkstands (G. Sykes), 91 Ironwork (H. Schultz), 339 Lamp (H. Fitzcook), 146 Lectern (Raimbach), 211 Letter Headings (W. H. Rogers), 23 Looking-Glass (W. S. Coleman), 23 Looking-Glass (H. Schultz), 338 Papier-Mache Plate (W. S. Colemau), 23 Playing-Cards (W. H. Rogers), 90 Table (H. Whitaker), 147 Teapot (G. Sykes), 147 Toasting-Fork (W. H. Rogers), 90 Vases (H. Schultz), 338 Ottley’s Lectures, 61 Oxford New Museum, 30 Panoramas : — Delhi, 94 Lucknow, 158 Mount Righi, 346 Paper Hangings, Arsenic in, 240, 306 Perfumery as an Art, 62 Photographic Exhibition, 120 Photographic Phenomena (Niepce’s), 15 Photographic Pictm-es, Carrick’s, 318 Photographic Society Club, 94 Photographic Views of Ireland, 254 Photographic Views of the Holy Land, 30 Photography applied to Wood-Engraving, 335 Photography considered in relation to its Educa¬ tional and Practical Value, 261 Photography for Portraits : a Dialogue, 273 Photo-Lithography, 127 Picture Dealing, 29 Picture Dealing, Romance of, 311, 369. Picture Exhibitions, 1 26 Picture Jobbing in Australia, 307 Picture Sales ; — ■ Baillie’s (Col.) Collection, 218 Grundy’s Collection, 123 Harew'ood’s (Earl) Collection, 217 Hope’s Collection, 217 Lloyd’s Collection, 217 Miller’s Collection, 218 Miscellaneous, 20, 123, 148, 218 Mordaunt’s Collection, 255 Morgan’s Collection, 123 Pemberton’s Collection, 148 Sandars’s Collection, 217 Sanderson’s Collection, 148 Verou’s (Dr.) Collection, 148 Wallis’s Collection, 89, 123 Pictm’es Baptism of Christ, Wood’s, 346, 374 Battle of Waterloo, 347 Cavaky Charge at Balaklava, Smyth’s, 94 Crimean Pictures, Barrett’s, 191 Cromwell refusing the Crown, Maguire’s, 374 Epsom Day, Frith’s, 93 Evacuation of Kars, 94 Frederick the Great, Leutze’s, 92 House of Lords, Nash’s, 223 Immaculate Conception, Murillo’s, 318 Preparing for the Start, Barker’s, 126 Windsor Castle, Rieck’s, 95 Picture Selling at Birmingham, 123 Pitt, William, 308 Polytechnic Institution, 56 Tii Portfolios, Harvey’s, 347 Poulszky Gems, 318 Pre-Raffaellite Art in Oxford, 62 Pre-Raffaellite Painters, 374 Pre-Titianites, 129, 177 Princess Royal, Bust of, 62 Princess Royal’s Jlarriage, 61, 250 Princess’s Theatre, 180, 297 Queen’s College : — Professor of Painting, 254 Rachel, Mdlle., 253 Radetzky, Monument to Marshal, 311 Raffaelle Plateau, 61 Raffaelle, Mr. M. Moore’s Picture by, 159 Raffaelle’s Cartoons, 347 Ramazouoff’s Statue of the Emperor Nicholas, 16 Ransome’s Monuments and Memorials, 361 Ransome’s Process for Preserving Stone, 312 Reviews : — Alphabets, Ornamental, 224 Altar-Piece at Holyrood, 96 Antiquities of Kertch, 95 Aquaria, 375 Architecture, Secular and Domestic, 17 Art : its Scope and Purpose, 256 Art-Treasures in Great Britain, 8 Art-Treasures of the United Kingdom, 159 Arundel Society, Publications of the, 253 Battle of Trafalgar, 288 Beautiful in Nature, Art, and Life, 63 Biddy Dorking, 32 Birthday, The, 192 Bonheur, Portrait of Madlle, 375 Boy’s Adventures in Australia, 128 Boy’s Own Book of Industrial Information, 256 Bridal Souvenir, 64 British Artists, Portraits of, 255 British Moths, 160 British Museum Reading Room, 160 British Sculpture in Connection with the De¬ partment of Science and Art, 224 Building News, 64 Burns’s Poems, 21 Butterfly Vivarium, 224 Calling of James and John, 348 Campbell, Sir Colin, 192 Caxtoii showing a Specimen of Printing, 320 Chefs-d’OEuvres de I’Art Chretien, 127 Chester, Mediaeval Architecture of, 288. Children’s Bible Picture Book, 64 Christ teaching Humility, 160 Christian Gellert, 256 Chromo-Lithographs after Turner, 63 Chromo-Lithographs after T. M. Richard¬ son, 376 Church Bells, 64 Clara Hope, 32 Comus, 31 Crucifixion, The, 348 Curiosities of Science, Past and Present, 376 Departure : Return, 30 Diary of Three Children, 32 Dorking, Handbook of, 288 Egypt and Palestine, 229 Evening Gun, Haulbowline, 192 Every Man his own Trumpeter, 320 Fables of iEsop and others, 31 Falstatf, Life of Sir John, 224 Favourite Poets, 348 Fred. Markham in Russia, 32 Galeries Publiques de I’Europe, 127 Gardens of England, 348 German Love, 256 God in his Works, 192 Goldsmith’s Poems, 375 Gothic Model -Book, 223 Grave, Blair’s, 376 Guide-Books, Longmans’, 256 Havelock, Portrait of Sir H., 192 Highland Nurses, 192 Historical Acting Charades, 32 Home Pastimes, 32 Illustrated Books for the Young, 370 India, British Empire in, 31 Infant Jesus, 348 Infant Prayer, 320 Interlaced Ornamentation, 288 Jacl and the Giants, 32 Jack Frost and Betty Snow, 32 Kavanagh, 31 CONTENTS. Reviews : — Landscape Painting, Theory and Practice of, 96 Last of the Brave, 64 Last Supper, 224 Lays of the Iloly Land, 60 Lectures and Essays, Gibson’s, 160 Leonilda, 64 Le Piileriuage de riloiume, 320 Lily of the Field, 192 LTiiiitatiou de Jesns-Christ, 128 Loudon and Westminster, Ancient Maps of, 192 Loves of the Poets, 32 Lyrics of Ireland, 96 Mantegna’s Trinmpli of Cscsar, 288 Many Pictures by Comic Hands, 32 ]Man_v Thoughts on Many Things, 31 Maud Summers, the Sightless, 32 Men of the Tiiiie, 64 jMerrie Days of England, 376 Miller’s Daughter, 32 Monumental Memorials, 256 My First Voyage, 192 Nineveh and its Palaces, 31 None but the Brave deserve the Fair, 192 Odes and Sonnets Illustrated, 376 Orthographic Projection, 64 Outlines of Creation, 376 Oxford, Handbook of, 288 Paradise Lost, 192 Parting Look, 128 Pastoral Poems, 32 Perspective, Treatise on, 64 Photographic A B C, 376 Photographic Album, 192 Photographic Manipulation, 224 Photographic Teacher, 376 Pilgrimages in Paris, 31 Play-Ground, The, 223 Political Ecouomy of Art, 63 Pottery, History of, 1 21, 154 Prince and Princess Frederick William, 96 Princess Frederick William of Prussia, 160 Princess Royal, The, 64 Printing; its Dawn, Day, and Destiny, 224 Proverbs of Solomon, 60 Reveley Collection of Drawings, 96 Reynolds, Catalogue of his Portraits, 95 Sanctity of Childhood, 192 School-Days of Eminent Men, 224 Seddou, Memoir and Letters of T., 287 Shepherd’s Prayer, 192 Siberia, Travels in, 30 Slide, The, 320 Soldier’s Return, The, 160 Stereoscopic Magazine, 255 Sunbeam, The, 64 Telegraphic Map of Europe, 256 Three Weeks’ Scamper through the Spas of Germany, &c., 96 Titania and Bottom, 192 Tresors d’ Art exposes a Manchester, 1 28 LTlysses deriding Polyphemus, 128 Venice, Bellini’s Pictures, &c., 63 Virgin and Child, 348 Wild Flowers, 192 Winged Words on Chantrey’s Woodcocks, 31 Wordsworth’s Poems, 375 Year Nine, 32 Ross, Sir William, 29 Royal Academy : — Alteration of Laws, 61, 253 Award of Medals, 29 Royal Academy ; — Dinner, 190 Early Catalogues, 325 Election of Memhers, 61 Exhibition, IGl Hangers, 158 Honorary Members, 255 Past and Present Position, 132 President’s Address, 105 Proceeds of Exhibition, 280 Projected Removal, 252, 286 Rejected Pictures, 159 Soii'M, 286 Studies from Nature, 254 Royal Iliberniau Academy, 254, 255 Royal Scottish Academy, 100 Royal Scottish Association, 191, 221, 276 Royal Society’s Portraits, 374 Rubeus, Pajiers concerning, 94 Ruskiu and Constable, 198 ; Ruskiu and the Pre-Rallaelites, 62 ' St. .Iames’s Hale, 94, 1 27 j St. Paul’s Cathedral, 253 ! Sari’s Establishment, Messrs., 95 I Sea-Weeds as Objects of Design, 5, 85 ! Schools of Design : — Banbury, 221 I Belfast,' 124, 221, 276 ’ Birmingham, 125, 136, 270 Bridgewater, 308 Brighton, 337 Bristol, 221, 368 Cambridge, 300 Cheltenham, 8 Devonport, 125 Dudley, 8 Dundee, 221 Duufermliue, 45 Glasgow, 45 Jlanchester, 124 Nevvcastle-undcr-Iiyue, 125 Norwich, 130 Nottingham, 308 Scarborough, 136, 276 Southampton, 276 Taunton, 45, 189, 337 "Warrington, 8 Wolverhamjiton, 45, 276, 300 Worcester, 45 Yarmouth, 221 York, 189 Scott, Sir Walter, 144 Scottish National Gallery, 136, 221 Sculptui'es by Chevalier Pettrick, 94 Shakspere’s Birthplace, 30 Sketching Societies, 61, 308 Smithies (Mr.), and the “British AVorkmau,” 62 Society of Arts: — Prizes, 255 Soiree, 190 Society of British Artists, 141, 159 Society of Female Artists, 143, 254 Society of Water-Colour Painters, the New, 1 7 Society of Water-Colour Painters, the Old: — Election of Associates, 93 1 Election of President, 126 Exhibition, 173 Soulages Collection, 29, 72, 94, 126, 183, 222 Spanish Letter- Writer, 36 Spring Head, The, 108 Stained Glass in Ely Cathedral, 254 Stanfield, Mr. Clarkson, 346 Statues: — • Brooks, Archdeacon, 300 Coeur-de-Liou, 222 Eagle-Slayer, 347 Edward "VL, 255 Fitzgibbon, Lord, 29, 284 Hardinge, Lord, 191, 232 Havelock, General, 89, 94, 223 Leicester, Earl of, 319 Luther, at WMrms, 311 Alelvillc, Lord, 61 Steele, Mr., 264 Turner, .1. M. AV., 126, 191, 340 Statues, on Colouring, 18, 69, 179, 230 Statues, AATight of Blows on, 39 Steam "Facht, “ Said,” 374 Steel deposited on Copper-plates, 319, 356 Stephenson, George, 373 Stereoscope and its Improvements, 305 Stereoscopic Company, 95, 254 Stereoscopic Views ; — Elliott’s, 373 Hewlett and Downes’s, 255 Negretli and Zambra’s, 347 Ogle and Edge’s, 191, 374 Storm, The, 240 Swiss Chalets, 232 Suffolk’s (Lord) Stolen Pictures, 94 Tabek.macle of Israel, Model of, 374 Temple Bar, 222 Thames, Book of the, 25, 49, 81, 113, 149, 185, 213, 245, 277, 313, 341, 357 Timbs, Mr. John, 126 Titian, 193, 225 Titian’s Successors, 257 Tombs of British Artists : — Bewick, T., 140 Blake, AV., 236 Cosway, R., 268 Etty, "VV., 12 Flaxmau, J., 76 Gainsborough, T., 332 Flogarth, AW, 104 Reynolds, Sir J., 204 AVoollett, AV., 304 AA'yatt, R. J., 44 I Turner, J. M. THE AETJOURNAL. London, Januahy i, isf.s. PAUL VERONESE. N one’s peregrinations at Venice few things aiford a livelier plea¬ sure to the imagination than the suddenly light¬ ing upon — what has now become a some¬ what rare object there ■ — a magnificent picture by Paul Veronese, deep in the recesses of some solitary palace or silent church. Your wanderings throughout the morning have, very likely, been along lonely quays, which seem expecting the slow encroachments of the sandy shoals op- f posite, rather than any other visitors ; or you f have been winding and turning through a labyrinth of narrow canals, between mouldering palaces, which, in their desertion or degradation, remind you continually and mournfully of the f;reat ones of the past, — a race that seems gone or ever. You would fain summon up some most lively image of them ; but no, it seems as if the worthies of ancient Greece and Pome had not passed away more utterly. Neverthe¬ less, your fancy still wanders in quest of them, as with eyes bent stedfastly on the ground, you proceed up some whitewashed nave or trum¬ pery-tarnished choir or other, when, all at once, looking up, you see them vividly before you, in breathing light and sunshine, fixed — firmly fixed — by the enchantments of Paul Veronese’s pencil. There they are, in lovely splendour-, lighting up that obscure and dull interior-, like the precious hues found deep in the cup of some exteriorly unattractive humble flower, or like its golden stamina themselves — genuine Vcnieros and Morosinis,most evidently ! and the fair ladies of the lagune with them, in the very bloom and heyday of their life, and, moreover, richly adorned with the courtly pomp and quaint finery of their age, such as reminds one not a little here and there of similar things which their contemporary, our own Queen Elizabeth, was wont to look round upon, over her starched lace ruff. Titian’s comparatively temperate gravity is here suc¬ ceeded by far lighter and more lavish splendour. With Veronese the blooming and handsome blonde young Dogarcssa, who adores the Madonna, or personates St. Catherine, or Esther, wears more gorgeous brocade: she nets Mid par/odas up her flaxen curls with gold thread or yiearls ; she bends her charms with a more courtly and self-conscious dignity, amidst the very handsome ecclesiastics, cavaliers, and senators, who dispose themselves around her with an equally stately and aristocratic port. And how brilliantly does this painter here com¬ memorate that love of show and pageantry which was so prominently characteristic of Venice during his days, and especially during that part of them when she enjoyed her thirty years of rest after the peace of Cambray, and shortly afterwards, her crowning jicriod of triumph and prolonged festivity after the great victory of Lepanto ! These w-cre her evening glories, illusti'iously attended by the radiant setting of her highest Art ; for Paul Veronese was the last of her great triad of painters, and his school, notwithstanding its own intrinsic cheerfulness and festive splendour, derives _ something even of a deep and pathetic interest from its being the last true and really great one of Italy. Whilst all her other schools were sunk low in mannerism, and uncon¬ sciously caricaturing those mightiest painters who had recently passed away from her, the true, noble nature, and splendour, and lusty life in Paul Veronese, looked like a fresh new vernal dayspring of Art, rather than the last full glories of its setting, soon to fade for ever. Our theme is welcome to us, for Paul Vero¬ nese, one of the most magnificent of painters, is sometimes a truly delightful one. He had not, it is true, so powerful an imagination or such depth of insight and feeling as Titian, or such daring conceptions and versatility as Tintoretto ; but confined himself more than even they did to painting the persons and the passing adornments around him. He did not, for instance, as Titian sometimes would, forget his ow’u times to realise the most glowing visions of Ovidian or CatuUian poetry, but remained especially the painter of that which was most handsome, stately, picturesque, and magnificent of his own age; grouping such objects, indeed, into splendid tableaux of mythological and sacred subjects ; but chiefly urged to this, no doubt, by the expediency of ministering to that demand for immense alle¬ gorical and church pictures, which had become a leading fashion of the day. Keenly de¬ lighting in, and thoroughly satisfied w-ith, the things about him, Paulo Caliari troubled his head but little or not at all with the pecu¬ liarities of any former age, or with the reviving classicality of his own days. The substantial charms, and even the splendid brocaded far¬ thingales of the ladies Moncenigo and '^'en- draniini, were far more fascinating in his eyes than any thinly ideal notions, such as faintly glimmered through kis brain touching Europa, St. Catherine, or Pharaoh’s daughter; and, therefore, he very frankly and gallantly substi¬ tuted the former for the latter in his pictures of mythological and saintly subjects. And even with regard to the objects of his own time, he did not, it must be admitted, look with so close and refined a discrimination as Titian into the intellects of princes, senators, captains, and scholars, or upon the pensive yet luxurious tenderness of ripe sunset-tressed Venetian beauties. Yet had the cheerful Veronese a truly dignified and noble conception of life; nor, though his magnificent super¬ ficiality — that is to say, his fine appreciation of picturesque and imposing lines, and of every delical emodulation of light and colours — tempts him too often to neglect expression, and (his besetting fault) his stately grace frequently degenerates into self-conscious affectation and ponq)osity, are his noblest works by any means w-anting in pathetic, exalted, spirit-stirring- poetical conceptions ; and in colouring and a glorious power of Ihe brush he can scarcely be said to be surpassed by any one. He excels pre-eminently in his owm true noontide bright¬ ness — his argentine, delicacy — suffusing and harmonising sometimes a whole garden-royal of beautifrd variegated hues; and he shines, also, in an aristocratic dignity and magnificence which render him, par excellence, the painter of the splendour and living nobleness and hand¬ someness of Venice in the times of Eamagosta and Lepanto, when noble blood yet mantled high in her veins, and before she sank far down into those depths of effeminate vice and pro¬ fligacy which made her, in the w'ords of the sympathetic poet, — “ The revel of the earth — the masque of Il.ily.” With this painter the true greatness of Italian Art finally set at Venice.® It threw a gleam, in its dying hour, of a rare cheerfulness and delicacy of splendour on the terraces of the wonderful City of the Sea, such as were built by Sansovino, and his friend Sammichieli, wliere her stately nobles were assembled in all their wealthy pomp and keen lusty enjoyment of life, yet assuredly condescending to no un¬ seemly mirth or levity the while ; nihaling the Adriatic breeze in their hour of calm relaxa¬ tion, — or celebrating with festivity some great triumph of the Republic, — or bending in pious thankfulness before the IMadonna. Of course I have my eye now chiefly on one of Paul’s “Suppers;” especially I have it on his “Marriage at Cana,” at Dresden— a picture far finer, by the bye, in colour and execution than the vast composition on the same subject in the Paris Louvre. You there encounter a numerous company of bright and handsome faces with keen, intelligent looks, sparkling with life and health, and a cheerful consciousness of existence. But if haply a stranger to such works, you are very much surprised, by and bye, to discover all at once the Saviour seated ill the midst of them, scarcely distinguished from the rest, and to find out that these pompous * It is true that Tintoretto survived him six years, and died at the ag'e of eighty-two ; but Paul Veronese, wlio was the younger man by sixteen years, caine after Tinto¬ retto, and consequently may be called ihe last of the great Venetians. After him there-were many painters in Italy of eminent talents, at the head of whom may be placed Donienichino, Guido, and the Caracci, but even thise eclectics, admirable as their works sometimes are, cannot be called great painters in the high sense in which the religious idealists were, or those noble poetical “natu¬ ralists,” the Venetians, of whom P. Veronese was the last great representative. t A captivating subject for a picture I One would like very much to see it painted, something on P. Veronese’s principles, on a scale of about 14 feet wide by 8 high. ■\Vhat a goodly assemblage of Venetian faces there ought to be at the supper table ! — Antonio standing up conspicu¬ ously to pledge Shylock, on whose finger Jessica is tenderly replacing his “tourquoise,” which Lorenzo has recovered for her. The Prince of Aragon and his suite, though guests, retain something of their Spanish stiffness and pride ; but the Prince of Morocco, howbeit also a disappointed suitor, is generously bent on laying at Portia’s feet all the wedding presents he intended for her in tlie event of his success; and, consequently, his swarthy attendants are bearing along the terrace in procession the stuffs, the gems, the tropical animals, the gazelles, the monkeys, and the beauteous birds be had brought across tlic seas for the Princess-elect of Morocco. Other men are landing more such treasures from the barque on the Grand Canal below', beyond which rise several of the finest Venetian palaces in a line, all tender in the softly luminous air. But who have we amongst us to paint all this with the requisite nobleness of beauty and temperate harmony of splendid colouring? Suri risingly clever bits of accessories we might have ; picturesque costumes, not altogether unworthy of Mabuse or Van Eyck in force and particularity, however inferior in purity of painting. Unimpeachable silks, and satins, and parrots, and mon¬ keys, -we might revel in; but where, for the present, could we hope to find Bassanio, and Portia, and the iloroccesc Prince, and the warm transparent Venetian air that unites and blends the whole in marriage ties (or rather tones, 1 ought to say) of genial harmony? 15 2 THE ART-JOUENAL. I Graclenigos and Grimanis are miaisteving to no ! less than Him, aad bein"- the personal observers I of His first miracle, ■which it mast be coatessed they contemjfiate with imbeading composure, as if miracles were too much a matter ol dail_y occurrence to excite any undignified degree ot surprise. This discovery of sacred circum¬ stances involves an anachronism ■which used to disconcert the more matter-of-lact observers exceedingly, and iu former days I have seen I them turn away almost immediately with evident signs of slight esteem for ]u-oductions_ so pre¬ posterously ineruditc. And, indeed, it might ' perhaps be wished that Veronese had confined himself entirely to the representation of his own times, instead of thus just coasting and touching ; only, as it were, at Scripture events. But then, I as ■we have said, his subjects -u'cre prescribed i for him by the general fashion of the age, and I others too would have been at variance with its ' tastes and purposes. And if we have not here I religious works of the most imaginative and ideal kind, ■we have at all events an invaluable thing — very noble and genuine authentic earth. And however startling at first Veronese’s ana- : chronisins, “n'lio woidd willingly spare these genuine illustrations of a bygone time, so remarkable for historical interest, magnificence, picturesgueness, and, as it here seems, also for jl living beauty itself? dVlio woidd part with h these aristocratic sea-captains, who lost Cyprus, it is true, but heroically, and revenged them¬ selves on the Ottomite, at Lepanto, divinely ? li dVho would dispense wdth these grave and I' venerable senators, and these sivarthy tnrbaucd strollers of the Piav.zetta, freshly arrived from ' the ports of Mahomet or Selim, and invited, as no doubt important business connections of the I i noble merchant-host, to share his great marriage ■' festival. They must be genuine saints indeed for whom one would readily exchange or barter them, nothing much short of Haphael’s — cer- , tainly not those cold reminiscences of statues of Greek philosophers and Boman orators which ■were so long accepted as the orthodox kind of sanctities in the works of the later Italians, and of the very great, but too often erroneously j antique Poussin. iViid how beautiful iu this I and other pictures are Paul’s wide range and I tuneful variety of colours ! Sometimes he gives 1 you, as it were, quite a dance of them, iu which i they recur at intervals like the same notes in a i melody ; and such is the noble manner and high I consummate mastery of this painter that iu his i hands the mere accessories and finery become ! really quite grand aud poetical objects, vehicles ! for exquisite hues and lines, and for the freest, 'I lightest, and most graceful precision of touch I that ever animated canvas, t And still finer than that “Marriage at Cana,” b — I think even finer, — is the companion pic¬ ture, at Hresden, of ihe “Adoration by the i Magi.” The venerable Magus kneeling, iu his long gold brocade robe (on which Vero- ji nese’s pencil has jfiayed with such easy and j ; graceful precision ), supported by kneeling pages, I looks like some doge of Venice in liis mantle of j state. And beside ibis is yet another Veronese, iu wliich my lady the Dogaressa, taking her recre¬ ation on the shady banks of the Brenta, or Tagliaraeuto, with her ])et dw-arf and guard of halberdiers, is being ])resented by the ladies of her suite with a little foundling, w'hich they have just picked up amongst the j^ceds of the river. The only irrationality wdth regard to this picture is the startling name — “The Dis¬ covery of jMoscs ! ” Such were our ante-Vcnicc notions concern¬ ing Paul Veronese, inspired first aud most warmly by those two pictures at Hresdeu (which I still thiuk he very rarely equalled), and coufirmed by one or fico amongst his injured and faded works at Paris, and still more strengthened by several very beauteous ar¬ gentine visions of courtly elegance and hand¬ someness, seen but too hastily in that scarcely- rivalled collection of Venetian pictures iu the A^ienua Belvidere. But at A’cnice, until we went to St. Sebastian’s and the Ducal Palace, most of his works which we met with there disappointed us, and tended somewhat to chill our adiuiratiou for his genius. Iu many of them, without making sufficient amends by any very remark¬ able display of technical power, he is cold and ostentatious iu expression to a degree that renders him altogether unattractive ; aud iu not a few other instances, even his colour is strangely didl aud disagreeable — heavy greys aud dull opaque reds unpleasantly prevailiug, especially in those works which he executed towards the close of his career, when the splendour aud delicacy of his feeling seem to have become considerably impaired. Few amongst his nume¬ rous works iu the Academy are highly inte- restiug; by far the finest being his grand osten¬ tatious altar-piece from San Zaccaria, — the vigorously animated aud somewhat attitudi¬ nizing figures iu which must have originally presented a very notalfie contrast to the Bellini there. The jMadonna standing on an altar is some beautiful and majestic higli-bred lady of Venice, aud the handsome riclily-attired priest (some prelatic saint or other) who bends forward at her feet, and looks round iu an effective posture, seems oue well fitted for the stateliest church business. The freedom and fuU Ijroad manner of tlie picture, aud the bril¬ liant, thongli most tender colour, are altogetlier superb. It is just by the south-west comer of the city, in a dull aud thinly popidated quarter, Avhere the general shabbiuess of the buildings, as well as of the outside of the church itself, is strikingly contrasted by the magnificence c.f that which follows, xkt the same lime the pre¬ vious year I happened (o be iu our own Lake District ; and 1 well recollect a discovery of similarly secluded splendour, then made in the midst of a somewhat rude aud humble land¬ scape, which, even at the moment, reminded me of the impressiou entertained on entering this very Church of San ’Bastiauo on a former visit, when comparing the richness of the gilded roofs, and sumptuous paintings by Paul Vero¬ nese with the meanness of the exterior, and the neglect and duluess of the neighbourhood through which we had just threaded our way. Aud now, oil a second visit to Venice, and a renewed acquaintance ivitli the same spot, the self-same comparison occurred again ; and the inside of tlie A^cnetian cliurch reminded mo with a reciprocal and equal force of tlie splendid and luminous hues which we saw tliat bright and liappy day tlie year before, gleaming and flitting along in (lie deptlis of tlie Westmore¬ land brook, and appearing far inore lieauteous and more rfi/ri/fif I inayiisc sucliaword), because contrasted with tlie barren, stony, and some¬ what impoverislied character of that little lirancli of the moniitaiu valley through which it takes its course. How well I reineiiiber it — how well ! Immediately hencatli us, where ihe suii shone on the stream, its stony bed was alone dispilaycd, brightened, not. hidden, by the invisible water, wliicli heightened its hue to a rich warm uniliery sjilendour, travelled over by a wavering network of light reflected from the viewless flitting crystalline current above. A little aloof, and where the shadow's fell, there the blue of the sky, and the cool reflections of the trenililing boughs prevailed ; and the suowy light of passing clouds glimmered away in a silvery aerial contrast, aud blending with the warm trans])arent richness nearer. Will it be deemed strange that this should remind me of the great silvery colourist, Paul Veronese, and, especially (having regard to the humble land¬ scape) of the Ci^st rich shining of the interior of San ’Bastiauo, as contrasted with the shabbiness outside ? Indeed, such was the beauty of the colours and of the light in the nameless little brook, that they might really, I think, have set Veronese sighing for an hour on the feebleness of the resources of Art, and have made him for the moment believe that his own proces¬ sions, and long-flowing streams of festal aud triumphant splendour were, after aU, but flimsily maguiliccnt, but coarsely gay. And a little below, this same stream, after suddenly leaping down a few feet with a bright silver laugh, and then soon becoming as quiet and lilacid as ever, displayed a more luxuriant beauty in the vegetation which appeared within her clear glassy seclusion. Aud now, hoping to be pardoned this little excursion up the Westmoreland vale, let us return to the A^cnctiau church, only stopping bnefly at Verona on our way, iu order that we may there contemplate for a few momeuts the youthfid Caliari at the outset of his career, before accompanying him to the spot where first victorious over neglect aud poverty he obtained S THE AKT-JOUENAL. 3 his earliest considerable cmploj'meut. He was but little encouraged in his native city on the first manifestations of his genius. A school of numerous artists already existed around him deriving much of their knowledge from the study of the Venetians, but not without their j separate and independent characteristics, since they adopted livelier expressions, and a lighter manner of painting, and evinced a still greater fondness for classical mythology and poetical pomp and pageantry, which they introduced in rich and fanciful abundance in the decoration of villas and palaces — tastes derived in con¬ siderable measure from the influence of Andrea 1 Mantegna, and, no doubt, in their turn com- ! municating themselves to Paul, and thus in no 1 slight degree accounting for some of his pre- : dilections. At the time of his first appear¬ ance, Batista del Moro, 11 Brusasorci, and j Paolo Farinato, the three most distinguished ; of the Veronese artists were invited by the ; Cardinal Ercole Gonzaga to exhibit each of 1 them an altar-piece as competitors in the Ca- ! tliedral at Mantua. But with them came an unknown young aspirant, and, according to Bidolfi, his picture was the best. Fashion, ho w- j ever, thought otherwise. As ever, enamoured 1 of fame, not excellence, she adliered exclusively i to the three established artists, and young 1 Caliari, notwithstanding his utmost endeavours, I found himself rapidly sinking to penury. So he packed up his colours and went off to ^ Vicenza, and thence after a while proceeded to i Venice. There, applying himself to the im¬ provement of his colouring by studying Titian : and Tintoretto, and to the development of some of his other powers by working from the engrav¬ ings of Parmigiano and of Durer, and from casts after the antique, he made such progress as soon j drew general attention, and procured him the commission to paint the Sacristy of this church. Here, accordingly, on the ceiling, he executed fine recumbent figures of the four Evangelists, with the Coronation of the Virgin iu the middle : between them. They are not like his subse¬ quent works, and of course have not that con- 1 summate freedom which he could only gain by 1 practice ; but they are noble and beautiful figures ; in their refined and more ideal dignity and grace reminding one of the Parma lunettes, ; of Parmigiano and Correggio, rather than of Veronese ; and in this showing the germs of a power which it was perhaps a pity not to culti- [ vate further. The ceiling of the church itself, painted some tune after, though stiU early in his i career, displays, on the other hand, his own pe¬ culiar characteristics in almost their full perfec¬ tion. The arches of the nave, too, once glowed with his frescoes ; but, alas ! they are now nearly obliterated. Amidst dingy obscurity and white spots of naked plaster, only a few vestiges of some very noble heads remain, as if time and decay themselves respected them. But his several altar-pieces, and paintings on the wings of the organ, and magnificent pictures hanging on the walls, stiU retain much of their bright¬ ness ; so that what with their lively beauty, and the splendour of the roof, the whole interior seems but his precious though much-decaying mausoleum; and his bust seems indeed to repeat the old epitaph: — “My ashes are be¬ neath ; but my spirit yet breathes and shines everywhere around you.” To whose declarations it might be also added, that his works are often memorials of pious liberality, since in dealing with religious frater¬ nities he was wont to adorn their altars and refectories with pictures, for a price little more than the cost of materials — a fact which might well be remembered by an epithet in his epitaph. His most delicate production here is a small Jladonna and Child, exquisitely painted, in a tender silvery gray tone. In a Crucifixion near it, Paul’s naturalistic tendencies descend some¬ what lower than is common with him. The Madonna, though verilally fainting, is evidently some coarse low-born Italian woman, and so also is the female who uncovers her head and opens her drapery for air. The Magdalen standing above them with upturned glistening eye, and profuse dishevelled golden auburn hair, is a vivid remembrance of Titian’s well-known Magdalen. As commonly in Venetian “Cru¬ cifixions,” the Saviour is entirely weak in ex¬ pression and character ; neither patience nor suffering, nor death being depicted, but mere ordinary composure. One of the painter’s most considerable works is his large picture in the choir, of Saint Sebastian encouraging his con¬ verts Marcus and Marcellianus, who, as they are being led forth to martyrdom, hold back from fear and momentary doubt. It is a crowded composition of many figures, full of Rubens- inspiring splendour, vigour, and life. Saint Sebastian, a manly cavalier in the armour of Veronese’s times, with a somewhat stern and careworn expression, rebukes his two disciples as he hurries forward, pointing to heaven, and exhorting them to follow him. Of those whom he thus addresses, one already recovering him¬ self, gazes at him with tenderness, and reviving faith ; but the other, with an irresolute troubled look (admirably expressed) turns towards his dumb mother, who is imploring him with ges¬ tures to remain. A blind and venerable father seconds her entreaties, supported by other re¬ latives of the different sexes and ages, who throng, for the purpose, an elevated terrace on which the event is taking place ; whilst num¬ bers of by-standers, clinging to pillars and crowding the balustrades above, look on more calmly. Ladies, however, arc not wanting in the principal group, who kneeliug around, do not forget in that exciting moment, to assume a conspicuous elegance of posture, and to bear in mind that amongst the spectators, some may have leisure enough to admire them, and the tasteful adjustments of their drapery; and even the little gaily doubleted boys they hold, seem to have quite a precocious turn for the same courtly gracefulness. It has more vehemence and action than is usual with the painter ; and the colouring and paint¬ ing are extremely vigorous and brilliant ; perhaps the former in parts is somewhat gaudy, too parrot-like variegated, too much lilce a society or conversazione of macaws, in its sudden and numerous contrasts ; but the restorer has evi¬ dently been here so hard at work, his thick coarse paint so manifestly bestreaks the trans¬ parent purities of the original in almost every part, that we should pause before attributing any defect of this kind to Paul Veronese him¬ self. The companion picture opposite, “ St. Sebas¬ tian on the Rack,” is opposed iu other respects, being one of the feeblest shadowings forth of the painter’s hand ; a collection of )igly inani¬ mate figures, tricked out in the most unsightly of those eccentricities of costume in which he was but too prone to indulge ; a poor caricature of his manner by himself. Several of his other pictures here, abounding iu very high merit, we must for want of space reluctantly pass over, but urn may not leave the church without pausing for a few moments to call the most marked attention to the paintings on the ceiling of the nave, since they are the most delightful things here — and to be numbered amongst the most precious ornaments that the Adriatic Queen still retains in her broken, half-un- jewelled diadem. They are small pictures illus¬ trative of the story of Esther, in which Caliari’s own peculiar romantic magnificence and grace of fancy are displayed with charming effect. In one, Ahasuerus is represented as crowning the chosen maiden, who kneels before him with courtly grace — her green dress contrasting splendidly with the shadowy glow of red colour all about the king and his royal state. He bends over her like a shadowy iigcr-lily over a verdurous plat of lawn ; and dusky knights are gleaming around them. The simple and most pictures(|uc composition, and light and sliade, are excellent ; and t he soilo in su, or ascending perspective, intliis and the companion pictures, by means of wliich the figures seem to stand vertically away from the s]iectator who eyes them from beneath, is managed with consum¬ mate skill. In the next gilded oval two horses, represented in this way, are boldly pacing and ' trampling forth over you, one with a serene king, and the other with a darkly-shining war¬ rior on his back; the royal barb being held with muscular stateliness by a vigorous man who comes before on foot. Two tiers of bal¬ conies, one over the other, overhang them, as¬ cending into the soft blue sky, and crowded with ladies and other animated spectators, w ho hail the procession below, and are seen quite from beneath with the utmost boldness and truth ot perspective. In these fine inventions Paul has shown liiinself the very Ariosto of the brush ; and his pencil, like the enchanted lance of the Knight of the Silver Panoply (in a cer¬ tain fiction of my own, which has not yet issued forth from my brain), opens for us some de¬ lightful visions of the halls and castle-coui-ts of old Romance. Precious vestiges 1 yet shining amidst damp and decay, like the last flowers of some lonely spot which rvas formerly a king’s plaisaunce, but is now a neglected wilderness, choked with rank grass and weeds ! even as were those gardens of the Peruvian Incas, when closed up and left to perpetual sohtude after their deaths. | Beautiful as these pictures still are, very few ; of the tourists seem to think them worth a steady glance. Whilst wm were there, they ; just came and went again in frequent succes¬ sion, as if it were a relief to have done with : so much more of the burdensome obligation of sight-seeing. Our next object must be to repair to the Palace of the Pisaui a San Polo, to see that most celebrated picture by Paul Veronese, which has acquired much additional interest since the time of oru visit, from the circumstance of our Government having given something more than £14,000 for it. Our course through the labyrinth or net-work of narrow courts took j us, on the first occasion, I weU remember, across 1 ] the Exchange by the Rialto, where our atten¬ tion was arrested for a moment by a pawn- ;j broker’s auction going on in that old scene of l| the bargainings of princely merchants and dis- || posals of wealth-laden argosies. Old women, ^ i seated on chans in a row, were handing from | one to another the articles under the hammer — i linen-irons, kettles, blankets, and pipkins, utensils from the kitchen, and sometimes, also, | from the upper apartments, with countenances grave and deliberate as those of judges — sic transit gloria Venetire, truly ! The ratings 1 which Shylock bore on this spot are wmll avenged. The Pisani Palace, on which we at length issued forth, looked almost hke one of the deserted ones, as if left very much iu the hands of the sullen domestic who had to open j the shutters, and show us what was inside. |i We were admitted into two handsome saloons, j in the Louis Quatorze style, with painted m ceilings and mirrors in flowery gilt panellings. ,| The first of these apartments has no less i than nine glass chandeliers to illumine it ; the second, oiir picture — the “Alexander , receiving the supjrliant family of Darius,” one of the painter’s most characteristic and important works. On one side, a group of handsome and noble cavaliers stands in pro¬ file on a terrace ; and on the other, several THE ART-JOUENAL. 