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and in 1761 he writes thus to Baretti. “ The | a little more than two years, when another artists have established a yearly exhibition of establishment was secretly organized and the pictures and statues, in imitation I am told, of casts and other materials of art, which grew foreign academies. This year is the second out of the collected earnings of the whole body exhibition. They please themselves much with of artists were by a majority vote removed to the multitude of spectators.” This exhibi- the New Royal Academy, thus depriving a tion has filled the heads of the artists and highly respectable minority of the very matelovers of art,” &c.

rials their own money had paid for. The exhibitions continued to prosper, pro

Joshua Reynolds kept aloof, but the King ducing a clear average income of about thirty- succeeded in drawing him over by conferring five hundred dollars, till the institution had ac- the title of knighthood upon him, to assist in cumulated about fifteen thousand dollars, when giving consequence and dignity to the post of they determined on establishing a public Aca- President of the Academy, to which the artists demy of Arts.

had elected him. But the King's favour stopped The treasurer of this Artist's Society it was

here, for he never employed him in the exerbefore stated was the same Dalton, the King's cise of his profession, unrivalled as he was in

the field of portraiture.
librarian, who lately returned from his Italian
expedition, victorious over Robert Strange. After the death of Reynolds, West was chosen
He had entered into a print speculation, had to succeed him as the head of the institution,
purchased some auction rooms which he altered and the same title was offered to the Pennsyl-
into galleries, and over the door he inscribed vania Quaker; but West declined the knight-
the words “Print Warehouse." But the busi- hood as an empty honour. He continued to
ness turned out a failure, and its projector fill this eminent station of President (with but
becoming involved, the King was called on for slight interruption) till his death in 1820, at
help, and his mode of affording it was to " pa-

age of 82.

The position was one he was
tronise” the Society of Artists and give them a fully entitled to, and in accepting it he rather
royal charter. A scheme was concocted by conferred than received honour.
which Dalton's rooms were taken off his hands

West's style of composition was noble and digby the Society, and the institution was ho- nified. Some of his works are so well-disposed noured with the title of Royal Academy." in every respect, that it is difficult to imagine These words were painted over the door in how they could be improved, and his facility place of “ Print Warehouse" obliterated, and in planning the general structure of a picture the rooms, when not otherwise occupied, were

is surprising, while the drawing of the parts wholly or in part rented out for Mr. Dalton's is equally just and true. What they want is private emolument, for the use of dancing- intensity; they command admiration, but they schools, auctions, &c. But the royal institution

never thrill you as Allston's or Haydon's not only charged its shilling at the door, but sometimes do. They never violate the supbegged subscriptions for its support. Disgust posed proprieties of art; are full of learned and bad feeling arose amongst the members, lines, and graceful or happy thoughts, but and another plan was matured by West, Cham- mostly fail to rouse the glow of enthusiasm, or bers, and two other artists under the eye of stir the passions, except in the very gentlest the King, (who himself wrote some of the

His facility in composition was by-laws,) which resulted in the present Royal somewhat hurtful, for it helped him to pass Academy of London.

rapidly from one great work to another beWest arrived from Italy in 1763, and soon

fore he had made all he could of the last. became a director, and it is the association Hence the thin painting observable in the large just described that he alludes to when writing pictures in the Pennsylvania Academy and as follows to Charles Wilson Peale. Those elsewhere, which were executed at the later exhibitions became an object of attraction period of his life. The colour always has a to men of taste in the fine arts; the young tendency to sink into the ground on which it is sovereign was interested in their prosperity, painted, and therefore should be laid on, in and the artists were by his royal charter large pictures, with considerable body, esperaised into the dignity, the independence, cially in the lights. The want of sufficiently and, as it were, the municipal permanency solid painting has caused the original ink outof a body corporate; and in this body I line, drawn on the canvass with the reed, to apfound myself a member and director," &c. pear distinctly through the thin paint; in every The charter, here referred to so reverentially, part of the pictures we see this black boundary was granted the 26th of January, 1765, up to line obtruding on the attention, and the consewhich time the Society was highly prosperous, quence is, the slighted look, without the energy but after the royal interference it hobbled on and fiery spirit of a sketch. Those pictures



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that he painted at an earlier period of his life, I true merit, as in the earlier part of his career are not equally liable to this objection. The he was esteemed above it. “ Paul and Silas” is for the most part firm and The engraving in the last number of this Magabold, and the “King Lear in the Tempest,” zine of “Christ Blessing Little Children,” the which belongs to the Boston Atheneum, is original picture of which is in the collection of painted in a very vigorous style, loaded with the Foundling Hospital at London, before recolour, and in the masses of light thickly im- ferred to, will, to those who are unacquainted parted. Washington Allston, who was no less with the character of his style in art, convey a competent to judge than he was just and impar- tolerable idea of it. This picture may be safely tial, said of him, that of late years he had pronounced the best of the subject that has been placed by the public as much below his been produced by any master.








And down to latest time, thy baleful mind
Shall awe with wonder all of human kind:
Monster of sin! detested, murderous, proud,
Disgrace attends thee, mouldering in thy shroud!

They bind thy form
In robe of state,
As though the worm
Would fear the great.

Where is the frown
Men quailed to see?
Down, tyrant! down;
The grave for thee!

Hal silent grown
That boding cry:
Ilard heart of stone,
Thou, too, canst die!

The purple pall
Is o'er thee cast;
Quiet and small
Thy home at last.

LOUD roars the rattling thunder through the sky,
And lurid lightning glances vivid hy;
Storm-clouds are whirling on with rapid might,
Fierce shriek the winds,-terrific is the night!
While one upon old Windsor's castle stands,
With royal brow, and sceptre-swaying hands :
About his kingly form a robe of state,
Haughty his steadfast glance--his step elate-
As though the war of Nature pleased him well,
And strengthened in his breast each purpose fell.
Behold! a figure dim, amid the gloom,
Confronts the king, and boldly speaks his doom;
With antlered front, and form of giant height,
The mighty hunter strode before his sight,-
Herne, leading spirit-bands,-a demon dread,
Strange link between the living and the dead.
For once a forester of fair repute,
He hunted with the king, and led his suite;
By rivals' hate and wrong 'twas his to die,
But never in the tomb could peaceful lie:
Advancing now, with dark, defying look,
And scornful gesture, loudly thus he spoke:
“Henry, foul tyrant! evil is that heart,
Which bids thy loyal spouse with shame depart,
And seeks Britannia's regal crown to place
On a fair maiden of inferior race.
Pause ere this act! for Catharine's spotless fame
Thou canst not soil, while men will curse thy name.
Ruthless the deed, false king! I dare defy
Thy deathful wrath ;-men fear thee,--never I!
An airy ghost, from viewless worlds I come,
And warn thee, monarch! of an awful doom.
Drunk with the blood of victims, man of crime!
Queens will denounce thee, slaughtered in their prime:
None shall delight thee long; beheaded soon,
Thy favourite, Annie, hath the axe her boon;
Well her deep cunning wilt thou quick repay,
Another, then, thy fickle heart shall sway;
She, too, must die! Crime thickens round thy path;
Oppression stamps thy reign, relentless in thy wrath.
Ever as thou dost plan some bloody deed,
I'll haste to warn: wilt thou that warning heed?
Three days before thou diest, will I appear,
To tell thee, Death--thy king, 0 king! is near;
On thy rad, weary bed of lingering pain,
Thou'lt crave thy Catharine's truthful love in vain;
For she alone,--adorning now thy throne,
Loves thee, ingrate! and for thyself alone.
Base hounds shall howling lap thy purple gore,
Fiends haunt thy tomb, accurat for ever more;

0, pomp of power!
Vain art thou here;
In dying hour,
None heed thy snare.

Bloodstained and grim,
Lay him away,--
None weep for him ;
Joy crowns the day!”

The iron-hearted monarch, moveless still,
Defying, undismayed, resolved in will;
With proud defiance braves the spirit-chief,
And answers thus, with words severe and brief:
“I'll scour these ancient woods, thou demon dire,
And hunt thee down with dogs and steel and fire :
Henry, of England, dares each mortal wight,
And dismal fiend from spirit-realms of night!"
Wild laughed the hunter, on his coal-black steed;
“Ho! ho!" he cried, and to the wild did speed;
His neighing courser pawed the yielding ground,
And sought old Windsor's groves with rapid bound;
While, ever as he fled, Herne backward threw
A glance like lightning, blinding to the view,
And still he shouted, " Tyrant! thou shalt die
Thy name provoke a nation's obloquy!"


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And yet, they say there's harshness in thy tone!Hast thou appeared, the advocate of pure

It may become the vain, who boast their lore Unshrinking liberty of life and faith.

In other tongues, though smatterers in their own, And yet, thy virtues puritan secure

To vaunt the value of their foreign store, No stern monopoly. No cant bewrayeth

And sneer at the harmonious chords which pour In merriment the preacher, nor gainsaith

Alike the solemn organ-notes that swell That hearty humour, which, as all thine own,

The song of Paradise, while saints adore, Through Addison, Swift, Sterne, and Goldsmith playeth, The Doric strains of Burns, and those that dwell Nor is thy playfulness for such alone;

With Cowper, Coleridge, Gray, and Wordsworth’s heavenly But every merry thought can find in thee a tone.



And for the gentle heart, that would express

The suffering, by which 'tis called to grieve, Thou hast a key of tender plaintiveness

Soft as the zephyr of a summer eve,

Which even the heaven-ascending sigh to leave.
Such gwan-like melodies, young Bruce, were thine;

Such, pensive White, the fabric thou didst weave
Of kind-affectioned words; such the divine
Fragments of dying Keats, and Tighe's enchanting line.

Which, from the warblings of unhappy Clare,

And the sweet minor of a Tannahill,
To fiercest wailings of sublime despair,

Which to the sweeping touch of Byron thrill

The bosoms, which they horrify and fill
With all a Titan's suffering, command

The diapason of the heart and will;
But elsewhere seeketh not the master's hand
For keys to speak the true, the lovely, or the grand.


Nor set to measures of the melting reedFor every passion of the human breast,

All trains of thought, however they proceed, And every common topic of inquest, Thou hast a fitting garb, an armour of the best.

Interpreter of free and ardent souls,

Bold in thy strength, unshackled by the fear Of censorship, whose living thunder rolls

Indignantly majestic and severe,

The foes of Liberty to blast and searThe flaming sword of Chatham, Fox, and Brougham,

And him, whose kindling words alone could rear The standard of the free, dispel their gloom, Make nations be, and men their native rights resume,



Grant me to know the treasures of thy reign,

To wield at will the wealth which they afford; For every dream, conviction, joy, and pain,

Promptly to grasp thy well-befitting word;

'Tis true that thou hast discords sharp and loud

And so hath Heaven-against the hour of need: On whomsoever bursts thy thundercloud

Has found thy wrath no opera chant indeed,



The Wizard sat in his cave of night,
That shone like day, with a magic light,
A fame as still as the witches' fire,

And lit at the top of a spiral wire!
Beside his foot was a torturer's rack

That with never a motion would wrench the bones, And spurn the touch of the victim back.

While the Wizard laughed to hear his groans! Anon the wretch's startled hair

Would stand, with horror, on its ends; While sparkles hissed from his clenching fist

As from an angry fiend's.

The Wizard's cave was stored with things,

Which only the Wizard koew;
Shapeless things with legs nor wings,

And yet that ran and flew;
Without or tongues, or throated lungs,

And yet that spoke and blew!
Was many a bone around him thrown,

And skulls that grinned for lack of lips, And many a stone that had been thrown

From the dark moon in eclipse !

He held in a flagon a strange fire-dragon,

That ate up steel like straw; And the prisoned wind, like a bottled fiend,

Obeyed his mighty law. One Imp, who was hid in a dull brown stone,

Would make a hob-nail dance and skip; To the wanderer of the farthest zone He must point the path, to man unknown,

And guide the starless ship.

Another was sealed, for penance-shame,
In an irop cross on a gallows-frame,
And standing alone, as by will of his own,
He whirled and whirled, and spun and spun,
Till it seemed the fiend would never be done;

But the touch of the Wizard made him tame.

O! the Wizard was a mighty man;
The mountains bowed, and lightnings ran,

Obedient to his word:
He forged a tireless “ Iron Horse,"

With thee to launch into the far explored, Yet boundless regions of the human soul;

I shall not envy polyglots their hoard, Though fair the dormant pile ;-the free control Of current life, like thine, transcends the boasted whole.

Wild racer of an iron course,

As feet as fairest bird ;
His mighty bulk, with all their force,

Ten men could never have stirr'd;
But he gave him resinous wood to gnaw,
And stuffed with fire his iron maw,
And poured a river down his throat;
And miles away, the people say,

They heard, with noise like a drum-beat's roll,

The systole and the diastole, *
When his giant pulses smote,
While he ran till the gales pursued in vain,
To lift his backward-streaming mane.

The Wizard weighed, in his either scale,

The planets, every one;
Through the meshes of its burning veil

He looked into the sun;
He drew the moon with his magic eye,

As a spake would draw a bird;
And down the depths of the utmost sky,

His whispered voice was heard.

The faithful image, that comes and goes

On the mirror's placid face,
The power of his necromancy froze,
In a vivid shape of fixed repose,---

Unmoving life and grace;
And under his eye a demon lay,

Ubiquitous, strong, and tame,
Who knew the thoughts of the far away,
And spread them, as far Judgment Day,
Graved with the point of an iron pen,
Fast as they fell from the brains of men,

Though many a thousand miles they came.
0, the Wizard was a mighty man!
Mightier none since earth began.
Tongue would weary and pen would fail

To tell the marvels of his power,
And men would count the startling tale

The dream of a frenzied hour.

* We mean no offence to Greek, in breaking the neck of its accents, and curtailing its quantities;-the verse would have them as they are.--AUTUOR.

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FIGURE 1. Full Dress Visiting Toilette.-Bonnet of velvet | lops. The three upper rows are interrupted by the openépingle, vert Président, which is a shade of vert oeillet or ing of the corsage, but the two below pass across it over carnation green, a little less gray than the natural colour the beautiful lace guimpe which fills it. Upon the front of the foliage of the carnation. The face is a little full at of the skirt are a like number of rows of similar trimming, the top, enclosing well the cheeks, and embracing the each composed of three volants of graduated widths and chin. Around the edge of the face is affixed a strip of lengths, those toward the lower edge being longer and frizzed feathers, and on each side a noeud of three feathers, wider than those above. one rising upon the face and the other two falling in rolls Sleeves a little wide, demi-long, with the seam toward below the cape. These are of the same colour as the the side, along which and around the lower part, pass two bonnet. Under-trimming, two noeuds of white riband, rows of trimming like that described above, and a third from which proceed two small white plumes, which give row around the lower part only. Under-sleeves of three an air of great sweetness to the expression of the counte- rows of lace, falling extremely large and full over the nance.

hand. Dress of violet silk. Corsage high, open in front, almost FIGURE 2. Pull Dress Home Toilette. — Robe of light green to the waist, with five rows of trimming, composed each silk, with corsage opening square in front, and the opening of two narrow volants of violet riband with rounded scal-edged with festooned dents of silk of a deeper green. At

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