14 JULY 1849, Page 20

THE ARTS.

THE ST. PHILIP AND ST. JAMES BY PAOLO VERONESE.

IN the possession of Mr. Morris Moore, 27 Soho Square, is one of the finest works we ever saw from the easel of Paolo Veronese. To people in this couttry who have not often seen the paintings of that master, the picture will appear strange, from its sobriety of design in the colour, and its dignity of composition. It is cited by Ridolfi, and was painted for the town of Lecoe in Puglia; the object being merely to represent the two saints with their attributes. St. Philip is seated, and is contemplating the other: St. James is absorbed by a vision of cherubim, whose faces are bursting upon his sight from the ambient air. Considerably above the size of life, both figures are massive and dignified, and clothed in majestic drapery. Faults may be found with the symmetry, and especially in those parts which, being concealed under the drapery, the painter was less forced to study or to account for; but the design of the other parts transcends the Venetian school. The action and expression of the uplifted head and self-repressing Band of St. James almost emulate the intensity and power of the Roman school. The picture, therefore, is grand and imposing for its design alone. As a work of colouring, it might be a storehouse of lessons for our English students. With a perfect sobriety of hues suited to the grave personages represented, and with a modest diligence in following the tints of the real objects, there is no effort to attain " brilliancy " of colouring by the use of garish pigments. The local colour is in all parts sober and subdued. But, by the most skilful handling of the pigments to keep the colour pure and unadulterated, every tint taking its place according to the intent in the painter's mind without mauling and haphazard mixture, he has caught the true bribiancy—the effect of the clear light of day shining on bodies of whatsoever local hue. By the most artful and perfect apprehension of the gradations of light, with an endless variety he has been enabled to increase the apparent extent of the scale from dark to light, until he seems to attain the very force of nature itself. Yet there are no heavy shadows; but the breadth and transparency of the shadows render the chiaroscuro at once gentle, broad, and powerful—felt rather than noticed until you look for it with a critical eye. For, as in all truly great works, the art of the painter does not obtrude itself upon you: all you see at first is the saintly pair ab- sorbed in their holy purpose, and presented with a noble simplicity.