PICTURES AND ARTISTS.

tin ilidil rsl ru'll wnrtli and beauty 11:1, and L.:ilia...Ts the comprehension. .Adini- ration and attention ripen into love and rcverenee.

A sceond awl third visit to this Gallery have at heat made us aware of hoe- nuteli we hod everlooktd in our IN t cursory ;:Laice ; the result of whirh was given in a brief anneencenient of the opening of the Ex- ; w.. :Ire apprehcnsive v, 'wit Was only intended to be a .-..!ild notice 01 IL' seemed it ,Iir,1,!//q./ ono. If it ivere so la any

Leee,lit le: now endeavnur tm disirIte erroneons impression. To convey an adequate idea of the incrits of these pictures ill our sleap, we must draw upon the reader's knowledge of the p w. r;;s, (Jr his faith in their reputation. As we can do no

le.ee .e leeirete ehat is re be seen, we will take a sketch of each the pictures by scliuols or subjects.

IL riv.) ok tic

tale. The cherubs that , ee.

pace of the re :wo angds ahnve, and tin:: seraphic open-

ness of their lac,• . lay.... the painter's stybi expaeded with his sub-

jeer, if his nil:: tait caphle of conreiving his luny theme at its

full clev::tion. Paul, it must be confessed, looks rather astonished

lit his situation, than rapt and dazzled with the gbnies that await In m. The trombone strikes us as being too: corn P1 i.ated an instrument for the ce!;,stial eln.ir ; Ind if GruteiN0 hi:d lived in our day and

givett one of his aneeli a keyed bugle, we should never have mistaken the seraph for a cad. There is nothing ludicrous in these terrestrial embodiments of supernal scenes and persons ; and Protestant picture lovers are soon reconcilid to the incongruities of the Cathodic church,

by the good faith of the painter. " The Coronation of the Virgin" (n-2), by ANNIBALE CAltAccI, in which the Father and the Son are represented impersonate, excites a fveling a kin to awe, so much in

earliest was the painter. This is in fact the great secret of the power- ful eifect produced by the great painters. The display of their art was

secondary and subordinate to the representation of the subject. It is this unosteatations labour, too, that lessens the force of the tirst impres- sion of a fine picture, and makes it gain upon you every instant. A

showy, imposing picture shall strike the eye for a moment ; but the con-

trast of the moral to the nhy:ical impression makes the spectator resent the trick of art whielt " mottstercd the nothing- to the outward sense.

Mere, style without definite meaning is the bombast of painting.

Though tirtamixo could be great without getting on stilts, we prefer however, his mundane realities. With what exquisite sweetness, „ma-

ternal tenderness and infant delight are expressed in the " Virgin and Infant Christ'' his Samson discovering the Honeycomb" (4:3), is not a subject of which a painter could make a very effective picture. On the right of Gurnemns large picture, is the well.known picture, by TITIAN—or a replication of it—of his daughter holding up a casket on a salver, with an inward bending of her waist Os she turns back her

face to cast a glance of her "deep rolling eye- at the spectator. Below it is the St. Cecilia of lhomixtemso— the ideal of artificial elegance

and composure: not a saint indeed, buta Guest personating the charac- ter. The first picture on the side wall next to this is one of the Me- thuen CLAVDES—Evening (S); where the golden orb is just dipping behind a green hill, burnishing with his splendours the surface of a calmn and lovely landscape, with a ilacid river, cattle, and a ruined temple. The purity and thinness of the atmosphere and the repose of the scene are felt ; and the bright blue of the sky at the zenith almost makes one

sensible of the cool air of evening. Next to it is a green shady land- scape of RUISDAEL (11), with trees retleeted in a stream, which is

covered with the water-lily. The perspective of the surface of the

water is represented with singular felicity. The companion picture to this, " Entrance to a town in Holland " (19), by Ilonenta, is still more extraordinary. The scene itself is unromantic enough—along, narrow road, bordered by tall, scanty saplings and wet ditches, runs straight through the picture, leading to the distant town. But it seems as if one could walk in it : it is almost an illusion. As a powerful and truthful transcript of an actual seene—flmatter-of-fian.picture—a won- derful specimen of imitative art—it is or umivalled excellence. picture ferias part of Sir Bannatx ri4L'S Qiwiee cOiketiOu. On th% rO011l s: Ni the .11.e.:'..eosis ef St. Paul, in which Ail, :le Li. .1xel.i.o, fills the centre is maaae;leent, and the draining was-

- ,.iriness mid streegth in the ii:41tre of St. Pael, the freedom and

line above are " The Woman taken in Adultery" (10), by GIORGIONI, and " The Adoration of the Shepherds" (16), by Trriaaa—though we agree with a contemporary who thinks it may be by Old PALMA. Be that as it may, however, both it and its companion are genuine pictures ; In which the persoes are absorbed in the spirit of the scene, awl carry

the stamp of character in their faces. The richness of the eolouring and the elaboration of the execution. too, reconcile us to the quaintness of style, as the force of expression does to the anachronisms. Between

these is one of VANDYKE'S 1101)10 afIll gallant portraits—a whoholength of the Duke of Richmond (15); and opposite to it on the other wall is one by VELASQUEZ (the Spanish VA N i»-KE), of Philip the Foul th A year or two ago we should have looked in %Mu for a liyieg Enelish painter to compare with him ; now we proudly call to wind Bateos's thinking and identical portrait of Lord Eldon. Below the V A N Et: is that ivonderfill reality, by I t LIR A N DT, " The Shipbuilder and las Wife" (14). The Yeller:11de min seated in his humble stilly, d II ing diagrams of broad.bottomed Dutch craft, is disturbed by the entrame of his %vife, who, holding, the latch of the door in one hand, reaches over to him with a letter in the other, her lips and eyes di-coursing her errand. The frank and vigorous aspect of the old man, his liei it white hair and beard, and hands corrumfated %vial age, but ot trili■part nt clearness, bespeak the health and kindliness of his go en al.1 age. Weird), opposite to it on the other side is " The Mother of 11,radia mit " (50), with a face crabbed with age and wrinkles, but mellow and genial withal ; her knotty, sunburnt le,Itures, contrasted by the pt, ii white- ness and transparency of her cap and ruff Returning to the other side of Ole room, we admire " time learned Poe SSIN'S " classic treatment of such an impossible incimlemit as the metamorphosis of Daphne, whose limbs sprout into foliage just as Apollo clasps her white body. The two heads of Christ, by M I at Limo (13), and (iuile) ( Is), reflect the feelings of the painters, rather than the divinely hunian nature of Jesus. The companion to the :Methuen Canttos:—" Morning" 02( f), brings es to the two woody landscapes of GASPAR POUSSIN, on either side of the South or entrance end of this room ('22 and 30), which breathe A readian air through their serene and classic beauty. Beneath them it rI! a number of exquisitdy-finished miniature pictures of road seenea and travellers, by Worymotx NS ; river and sea pieces, by the VAN in v1:1.10:5 ; boors smok lila and singing, by TEN IEUS ; and just over the arch_its pictorial keystone—is a boar. hunt, by SNYDERS '29), the boar with his red eyes of fury, and the gored dogs yelping with agony, while fresh assailants seem eager, yet afraid to attack the foe, whose tusks are wet with the blood of their fellows. 551 [tilts, however, with all his power, is coarse awl merely physical in comparison with the refinement of our own LA N ins EER, who depicts the individual character and moral expression (so to speak) of his dogs—he paints onimoli parlonti.

We now COMP to the other side of the room ; to which, however, we have turned so often that there remains but a few pictures to speak of. Passing by the gloomy waterfall, by Itrysoael., to which the bright glory that encircles a sweet, innocent little Virgin, by Menn.i.o, above, offers too strong a contrast, we conic to the portrait of 111111SCIG as a Cavalier, by Cull, (42). The grey horse—perhaps a favourite animal of the painter's, for he is fond of introducing one into his pictures—is inimitably painted ; and the distant encampment is as usual veiled in a yellow mist of sunlight. At the other end of the room, a pendant picture to this, is " A Village Entertainment," by TEN1ERS (54); painted in his cold, clear, neat and exact manner, and representing the scene as in a camera. The painter and his wife and friends in the foreground would seem to denote that he was the founder of the feast. A row of barrels of ale flanks four enormous brass kettles, placed over a range of wood fires, and these are being stirred by a man with a ladle as long a pitchfork, while a woman cook is squeezing in lemons to flavour the savory mess. The guests, old and young, men and women, are seated in a double row, each with a jug for the ale and a bowl for the soup, waiting patiently the distribution of the good cheer. This picture is as vivid a record of an old national custom as IVASIIINGTON IRVING could describe. Opposite to it, on the other side, is another of a civic ceremony—the assembling of the Burgher guard at Amster- dam—also by TE.tereas ; and painted with equal elaboration and literal fidelity, but wanting the airy freshness of the rural festivity. We look up admiringly at the two weak but elegant allegories by PAUL VERO- NESE—" Wisdom and Strength" (49), and " Paul Veronese between Virtue and Vice" (44)—which are only admirable as costume pictures ; and then, after an attentive scrutiny of this expressive and powerfully painted " Portrait of a man," by VANDYKE (43), we come to the cynosure of the collection—" :Mendicants receiving alms at a Con- vent " (47), by AIURILLO ; a picture which possesses that combination of simple nature, elegance, and dramatic force of expression, that dis- tinguish the works of Raltuaes. Mualsao's name and fame are com- monly associated with beggar-boys and peasant girls, whom he loved to paint. He redeems their rags and squalor by the vividness with which he depicted the careless mirth and happy indolence in the face, whose every feature is lighted up with the sunny smile of content and enjoy. ment; and here he prevents us from being painfully sensible of the physical wretchedness of hunger, disease, and decrepitude, by the im- pressive moral interest which he gives to the scene. The bishop, for such he is from the attendant holding the mitre, with a pale, sharp- featured face and a searching look, tempered by a fine benevolence, is dispensing alms to a half-naked wretch, whose rags scarce conceal his sores. In the foreground, a plump little urchin, with an apology for a garment, gleefully holds up a piece of money to his mother, who carries an infant on one arm, holding him with the other, and whose settled aspect of distress is not moved by his pleased look ; and in the back- ground, an old cripple—a patriarch of beggars—is advancing with an air of grand infirmity to receive his dole. The design and drawing of these figures are in the highest style of the art ; nothing can be finer. In this picture the means and end of painting are exemplified to per- fection. The scene is placed before you so completely, that the unini- tiated may behold it without ever thinking of the painter; while to the picture lover the utmost refinement of skill is evident, superadded to The sentiment of the scene. We will not disturb the impression we have endeavoured to convey of the truth and beauty of this picture. Having made the tour of the principal room, next week we will visit the others; and report, among the rest, of Bona's Enamels.