INFAMOUS ATTACK ON THE MANAGERS OF THE NATIONAL GALLERY.
A CORRESPONDENT of the Times, one " Civis," complains that his feelings were "much outraged" on Tuesday by what he wit- nessed in the Vernon cellars of the National Gallery- " It being a fine day, the rooms were very much crowded; and the consequence was, that I saw some of the finest works of art jostled and knocked about by the shoulders of men who were utterly .unable to appreciate the harm they might do. It was delightful to witness the interest taken in the collection by artisans and labouring men; but their feelings would not evidently be much violated by brushing with a dirty shoulder or elbow a gem of art. If one could be certain that the coat of the wearer was clean, and the rub only a slight one, occasionally applied, the pictures might be the better rather than the worse for the friction, as they are sadly covered with dust; but I do not imagine they can long stand the usage to which they are at present subject. Most of the pictures are partially defended by oak rails; but some are quite exposed, particularly those hanging on the ends of the partitions."
We do not know what this grumbler would have. He com- plains that the pictures are jostled and rubbed but how can that possibly be helped? The cellars, he confesses, were crowded ; and as they are so small, and the pictures are hung so low,— even as it were in the door-jam between some of the partitions,— we do not see how it would be possible to prevent any amount of rubbing or pressure. Why complain of a grievance which can- not be helped ? Of course it would never do to keep out the "crowds"; for then we should have no end to complaints that the working men were excluded from works of art. It is true that the shoulder is not exactly the appropriate organ for per- ceiving pictorial beauties : but even that contact with genius may be beneficial; and the complainer admits that the process has its i advantages in cleaning the pictures. The crowd is a self-acting duster, and is therefore cheaper than Mr. Cochrane's pauper- scavengers. Very likely, the process will be found useful also in "toning down" pictures, and so supplying all that they need, it is said, to place them on an equality with the old masters. Civis naturally has his " plus sot," a " Constant Reader " of the Times, who echoes the wail- " It was not till my second visit to the Vernon pictures in their present im- prisonment, that I chscoveied the Turner which was last spring delivered over to the keeping of the nation as a sample of the donor's munificent gift. It has now been placed in a post of danger, not of honour, against one of the pillars about two feet from th; ground, without the slightest protection. It is quite invisible, for the tip •ctator necessarily casts his own shadow over it in endeavouring to view it. While attempting to catch a glimpse, I saw dirty rough garments, baskets, &c., brush across it: at length a child came past, and with his nails tried its uneven surface, as he might have done a brick wall."
What then ? The Constant Reader is no artist, or he would know that it has been the established practice at the National Gallery to decorticate pictures ; and Mr. Eastlake can bring any amount of high professional evidence to tell him that it does them good.
Civis, however, is not content with the present, but pro- spectively bewails the future-
" I do not here allude to the miserable light and accommodation, which spoils many of the best pictures, as this, I trust, is only temporary; but what I have alluded to may prove not only a permanent injury to the present collection, bat also a discouragement to any other gentleman inclined to act in a like munificent manner with Mr. Vernon."
Which is as much as to say that the English nation is like swine, before whom you must not cast your pearls And what business has Civis to assume that the accommodation is tempo- rary ? Why should he set himself up against the constituted au- thorities of our great national establishment ? Is it not more likely that they know what to do with pictures than this fellow Civis ; whom we remember to have sent impertinent grum- bling letters to the newspapers ever since the days of Junius. These Romans that write in our journals are always finding out mares-nests; and here has this Eternal City Cockney been discovering one in Trafalgar Square. If he were used to good society, he would know that there is no character more intelligent, virtuous, and exalted, than that of an English gentleman : there is nothing upon which a really well-to-do English gentleman prides himself more than his wine—our glorious institutions de- mand his duty, but wine has his enthusiasm : now the English gentlemen who have the management of the National Gallery have treated the Vernon collection of pictures exactly as if it were their own wine. The only thing we miss is the saw-dust on the floor ; but Civis allows that he saw dust on the pictures. We have no fear of any change. Civis may rest assured that, in spite of his babble, the English public will rub on as it does for many a day.
It may be different in foreign countries—we believe it is ; but we appeal with pride to the tranquillity which our own land can show, while Europe is torn by revolution, anarchy, and theory ; and while we are free to confess that there may be flaws in our own admirable constitution, we ask Civis in what quarter of the world he can match the refined accomplishments, the homely graces, or the virtues of the British female ?
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