and marching fifteen or sixteen miles a-day with the same ease as their fathers." Sir Thomas Munro died in 1827, having raised himself by his talents from the situation of a simple cadet to that of Major-General, Governor of Madras, and Ba ronet. Natural History of Enthusiasm. Second Edition. London. Holdsworth and Ball. 1830. 8vo. Pp. 320. THERE is much in this book both of powerful writing and deep thinking, and, what on such a subject is more important, of pure practical sense. We have scarcely seen any thing so good since the publication of Foster's Essay on the Evils of Popular Ignorance-a work, by the way, which it considerably resembles both in conception and style. In the first section the author treats of enthusiasm secular and religious. All enthusiasm he makes to consist -rightly, we think-in useless or perverted excitement. Agreeably to this view, therefore, the religious malady of which the particular object of his Treatise is to give the Natural History, has its origin in the same quarter to which every thing else that is extravagant in human action or opinion may be traced-a fevered imagination. Our author shows that the very feelings of the heart, for the purity and intenseness of which enthusiasts are so apt to give themselves credit, are in effect rather hardened than improved in genuine sensibility, by that constant riot of the imagination which causes them to be excited too often, and suffers them to wander, when they are excited, without an aim. Upon this point he thus expresses himself: "The process of perversion and of induration may as readily have place among the religious emotions as among those of any other class; for the laws of human nature are uniform, whatever may be the immediate cause which puts them in action; and a fictitious piety corrupts or petrifies the heart, not less certainly than does a romantic sentimentality. The danger attending enthusiasm is not, then, of a trivial sort; and whoever disaffects the substantial matters of Christianity, and seeks to derive from it merely, or chiefly, the gratification of excited feeling; whoever combines from its materials a paradise of abstract contemplation or of poetic imagery, where he may take refuge from the annoyances and the importunate claims of common life;-whoever thus delights himself with dreams, and is insensible to realities, lives in peril of awaking from his illusions when truth comes too late. The religious idealist, perhaps, sincerely believes himself to be eminently devout; and those who witness his abstraction, his elevation, his enjoyments, may reverence his piety; meanwhile this fictitious happiness creeps as a lethargy through the moral system, and is rendering him continually less and less susceptible of those emotions in which true religion consists." The author afterwards shows that enthusiastic excitement is not merely unfavourable to the growth of good affections but also a fruitful source of such as are malignant and bad, and particularly a cause of fanaticism. "The amenities that have been diffused through society in modern times, indeed," he observes," forbid the overt acts and excesses of fanatical feeling; but the venom still lurks in the vicinity of enthusiasm, and may be quickened in a moment; meantime, while smothered and repressed, it gives edge and spirit to those hundred religious differences which are still the opprobrium of Christianity." The second section contains many powerful remarks on enthusiasm in devotion; the third exposes the enthusiastic perversion of the doctrines of spiritual influence; and the fourth treats of enthusiasm as the source of heresy. The fifth section, which is very masterly, and which must be hailed as particularly seasonable at the present time, by the true friends of religion, is devoted to the enthusiasm of prophetical interpretation. The author properly distinguishes between the use to be made of fulfilled and of unfulfilled prophecy; and he finds a resemblance of construction between prophecy and the enigma -both being so framed as to admit of various guesses and probable solutions, but each having at the same time some special mark by which the true solution, when given, is authenticated and made to recommend itself immediately to the understanding. We recommend the following improvement of this text to the Rev. Mr Irving and his admirers, and much good may it do their pious souls: "Is a prediction couched in symbol? Is it entangled among perplexing anachronisms? Is it studded with points of special reference? We then recognise the hand of Heaven in the art of its construction; and we know that it is so moulded as to admit and invite the manifold diversities of ingenious explication; and that therefore even the true explication must, until the day of solution, stand undistinguished in a crowd of plausible errors. But for a man to proclaim himself the champion of a particular hypothesis, and to employ it as he might an explicit prediction, is to affront the Spirit of Prophecy by contemning the chosen style of his announcements. And what shall be said of the audacity of him, who, with no other commission in his hand than such as any man may please to frame for himself, usurps the awful style of the seer, pronounces the doom of nations, hurls thunders at thrones, and, worse than this, puts the credit of Christianity at pawn in the hand of infidelity, to be lost beyond recovery, if not redeemed on a day specified by the fanatic for the verification of his word." In section sixth, on the abuses of the doctrine of a particular providence, it is well observed,- "In minds of a puny form, whose enthusiasm is com monly mingled with some degree of abject superstition, the doctrine of a particular providence is liable to be degraded by habitual association with trivial and sordid solicitudes. This or that paltry wish is gratified, or vulgar care relieved, by the kindness of providence;' and thanks are rendered for helps, comforts, deliverances, of so mean an order, that the respectable language of piety is burlesqued by the ludicrous character of the occasion on which it is used.""These small folks have need to be warned of the danger of mistaking the language of piety for the gratulation of selfishness.' The enthusiasm of philanthropy is treated in the seventh section with the same discriminating good sense; and in the eighth and ninth, which contain some of the most eloquent passages to be found in the volume, we have a complete analysis and exposure of the enthusiasm of the Ancient Church and of Monachism. At the same time, we consider ourselves called upon, for the author's sake, to state, lest the terms of our commendation should by any chance operate to his exclusion from the circles of those who lay exclusive claims to evangelical religion, that his work is written no less in a pious spirit than with a rational intention; and that for aught we can see, or indeed for aught that is rendered probable by any one expression of his book, he may be an approved expounder of orthodoxy from the most popular pulpit in the kingdom. But while we admire our author's eloquence, enjoy his sense, and are grateful for his seasonable labours in exposing the source of so many newfangled absurditieswe wish he had given us no reason to conclude our remarks with a censure on himself for a sort of enthusiasm, which, though we hope not damnable, is, we are sorry to say, very common at the present day. Somebody should write a book, or at all events a first-rate essay for the Literary Journal, " on the Enthusiasm of Modern Style." Our author exemplifies it by turns of expression, and even words, which prove that his mind is often so dangerously excited as to spurn authority and defy the Dictionary. Although our opinion of the general goodness of the book remains unchanged, we are sorry to find in it a few such figures as these:" The ribbon of despotic interdiction is still stretched across the high-way that leads to the popular mind.” Or, “while the minds of high commotion lie hushed in the caverns of divine restraint." We are also sorry to meet with such skilfully-invented and well-sounding words as perfectionment," " "inamissible," (meaning to be admitted,) "spontanities," "perfunctionary," "fortuity," "magnific ;" and many more, which may deserve the attention of those gentlemen who are at 66 present employed in improving Johnson's Dictionary by for it would have implied that public taste was deteriothe addition of " many thousand words." rating; but as the "Follies of Fashion" was all but and the incidents are weak and commonplace in the ex- Enter Major O'Simper. Major. Your most obedient very humble servant, Mr Counter; I have just called to pay my respects to the ladies, (aside,) and to know if Jenny has delivered my note. Counter. Unfortunately the ladies are-are rather unwell; Mrs Counter has a headach, and Emily a cold. I shall never get rid of him unless I ask him to dinner, which I certainly will not.-(Aside.) Major. A cold! Oh, merely that species of fashionable indisposition which will not prevent their going to three or four parties this evening. I myself-I have five engagements for to-day. What it is to be asked everywhere, to "to be in know everybody, as you would say in the city," The Follies of Fashion; a Comedy, in Five Acts. By the Right Hon. the Earl of Glengall. London. Colburn and Bentley. 1830. 8vo. Pp. 147. EVERYBODY has complained of the decay of the drama in this country, until everybody has grown sick of the subject. We may perhaps be thought singular, and will therefore have some little chance of being listened to, when we say that we are not aware that there has been any decay of the drama among us. If by decay be meant, either that we have fewer dramatic writers than we once had, or that our stage is worse managed, or that the theatrical part of our population has dwindled away,-we deny the facts. We have fully as many dramatic writers as ever we had; the stage was never in a more moral or healthy state, nor its performers more talented and respectable; and the patrons of the theatre are quite as numerous and ardent as they were in times past. If the drama has decayed, from what palmy state, from what happy period, has it fallen off? One swallow does not make a summer; neither does the existence of one Shakspeare prove that the drama was then flourishing. On the contrary, Shakspeare's plays were not nearly so much enjoyed during the Bard's lifetime as they have been since. We may perhaps be referred to the days of Charles the Second, when a number of celebrated dramatists sprang up together; but shall we prefer the gross licentiousness of their writings, to the far more refined wit of Goldsmith, the exquisite polish of Sheridan, or the classical purity of Cumberland? These, it is true, are the writers of a former generation; but have we not even in our own, seen both comedies and tragedies take a rooted possession of the stage, and appear alternately with the productions of the older masters? No doubt, we have never had among us another Shakspeare; but such men do not come into existence like mushrooms. Greece, amidst all her galaxy of bright names, could enumerate only four great dramatic writers,-Eschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, and Aristophanes. If we except Plautus and Terence, (both clever, but neither of them first-rate,) the Roman empire could hardly boast of one. France rejoices in her Corneille, Racine, Voltaire, and Moliere; but these, being numbered, amount only to four. Germany has Schiller, and almost no one else worth naming. Italy can point only to Alfieri and Monti. Spain is more fortunate; but even her Lopez de Vega is valued more for the quantity than the quality of his lucubrations. What then do we mean by eternally mourning over the decline of the drama? If we look to our actors, can we not trace an unbroken line of them from Garrick down to Mrs Siddons, John Kemble, Young, Kean, and Ma-No, no, by no means. He is reading.-(Aside.) By all the thews? If we look to our theatres, when were there more in the land than there are now, and when were vaster sums of money ever expended upon them?-That some of them do not pay, is the fault of individuals, not of the public. True, we have plenty of bad actors and dull writers, but as long as humanity continues what it is, this must be the case; and the greater the number of bad actors and writers, the greater the probability that out of them a few good actors and writers will make their ap-tremely gratified at meeting you again. Is your lordship pearance. If, therefore, we find that the Right Hon. the Earl of Glengall has written a portentously stupid comedy, shall we be ninnies enough to attribute this amazing circumstance to the general" decay of the drama?" Shall we not rather venture the more direct supposition, that the Right Hon. the Earl of Glengall is a nobleman of very moderate capacity? Unless our knowledge of history has much deceived us, there were dull noblemen before Agamemnon, and the breed is not extinct even yet. Had Lord Glengall's comedy taken possession of the stage, the matter would have assumed a more serious aspect, demand!" Counter. I rather thought that the market for diners-out by profession was glutted-ha! ha! ha! Major. Vulgar personality! City wit, I suppose!-It was in consequence of the arrival westwards of a large cargo of gilt halfpence from the east, who, finding they had more money than friends, were obliged to hire their company at so much per plate. his boasted knowledge of everybody.-Do you, Major, Counter. Hang the fellow! (Aside.) Egad! I'll try happen to he acquainted with Lord Henry Drummond? Major. Lord Henry Drummond? To be sure I am, certainly; particularly well. Foster (aside.) Particularly well! I certainly shall be discovered and ruined! Counter. I beg your pardon then, Major, for not having Major (confounded, and endeavouring to stop him.) powers, I don't know him from Adam or Eve! How unlucky! Oh, Goddess of Impudence, who never desertest an Irishman when he is bothered, assist me now! Counter (touches Foster, who affects to read.) Lord Henry! Lord Henry! your friend Major O'Simper is here! Foster. Ah! bless me, is he indeed? So he is.-(Covers his face with his handkerchief in advancing. The Major also covers his face as much as possible from Foster.) Major. Ah! my good lord, is that you? I am ex as gay as ever? We have not met, upon my honour, since we last parted at-at-at Foster. Spa, I believe, Major,-(Aside) where I never was. Major. Spa was the place, by my faith! The party was highly diverting.-(Aside.) The devil a party I ever saw there!-You may remember the German Baron Higgenstein, who ate so much; and the Russian Count Swilloffsky, who drank so much; and the French Marquis, who quizzed you so much. Oh, it was strikingly entertaining! Foster. Oh, yes! Ah, true, I remember it well-ha, ha! is elegantly adapted to my inventive faculties! He would make a choice travelling companion. Counter. He has quite brought old times to your lordship's recollection. Major. You remember, no doubt, the little blue-eyed Polish girl you admired so much, with whom you were so much in love? Foster. No, no, I don't indeed. No-no-no. This, after all, is poor enough; but there is nothing better, and scarcely any thing so good, in the whole play. The denouement takes place at a masquerade; Lord and Lady Splashton are reconciled, Foster is married to Emily, and everybody is happy. Having already protested against the supposition that the drama is on the decline among us, merely because a good deal of trash is occasionally written, we cannot conclude this article without adducing another triumphant argument to show that it is, in point of fact, on the very verge of a new accession of glory. We received, only a few days ago, a communication from Glasgow, which, in our estimation, places it beyond a doubt that Thalia and Melpomene have united to rear up a favourite son within the busy haunts of that city. The communication to which we allude is a dramatic sketch, of inimitable power and pathos, concerning which the author, in his accompanying letter, with the modesty and naïveté of a true poet, thus speaks:-" Sir, in presenting you with the following sketch, we cannot better premise, than by quoting from a friend the following observation : If it' (meaning the following) had the name of a Byron or a Shakspeare annexed to it, its success were sure.' But I am afraid I have said too much in my own praise."Not one whit;-aware as we are of the magic of a name, we nevertheless feel satisfied that the genius which could conceive, and the hand which could execute, a dramatic sketch like "the following," is born to establish a new era in the history of the drama, and will become known even as far as the Literary Journal itself. Compared with him, how feeble is Barry Cornwall,-how commonplace Miss Mitford ! We venture to say, that our readers have seldom met with any thing half so exquisite : JOSEPH, OR THE UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE. A Dramatic Sketch. SCENE. A Room prepared for an Entertainment-Supper on Table. Mr and Mrs MULLER. Mr M. (pacing up and down the room.) 'Tis strange, not one has come; the hour is past; The clock has just struck eight. Mrs M. I wonder who James. But we must not waste the time with converse such as this, Weak and unlovely; but talk of something consequential, Will stand the shock of Russian armies ? * 1st Gent. As mountains by lightning shivered; or as the stormy cloud with thunder charged, Renting, yet not rent. Mr M. I pri'thee, speak not so boldly, sir. 2d Gent. The Turkish power is broken, and never shall Regain its former strength. 1st Lady. Gentlemen, please attend; here is something worth the seeing. [Joseph performs a number of amusing experiments in optics, electricity, &c. James. Enter Mathew, nephew to Mr Muller. Uncle, I was Which kept you from your uncle's house. Your face is pale,-the rosy cheek, Are now all gone-have vanished suddenly. Joseph. I feel a strange sensation through my frameA great trembling-a-a great weakness overpowers— [He falls on the floor, and dies. Exclamation of several voices. Oh! how sudden ! Mr M. O, my Joseph! [He faints. [Ladies sprinkle cold water on his hands and face ;— he recovers. James. Gentlemen, come, let us bear the body hence; While, ladies, you conduct our host into an airy room. We should like very much to see this piece performed, Will first arrive. (A rap is heard at the door.) Even and we are sure Mr Murray would find it for his advan tage to produce it upon the stage here. The character of the hero, Joseph, however, would require an actor of no common powers, especially in that part where he performs the experiments, and also where he so suddenly dies. Vandenhoff, with careful study, might, perhaps, be able to embody this fine conception. Miss Jarman would make an excellent Mrs Muller; while the important character of Mr Muller might be intrusted to Denham. Pritchard might play James; and Montague Stanley, we daresay, could do justice to Mathew. Thus cast, the suc cess of " Joseph, or the Uncertainty of Life," would be triumphant; and the Right Honourable the Earl of Glengall might take a hint from it for his next comedy. The Lives of the Most Eminent British Painters, Sculptors, and Architects. By Allan Cunningham. Vol. II. Being the Family Library, No. X. London. John Murray. 1830. WE have just received this interesting volume, which we consider still superior to its elder brother. It is evi Written before the end of the war. dent that its amiable and talented author has taken no❘ them feel how much importance attaches to the commonest little pains to merit the approbation of the best judges. For his sake we are truly glad to learn, that the first volume has been received with so much favour that 7000 copies have already been sold, and that a new edition is now in the press, which will contain improvements, particularly in the life of Hogarth. Mr Cunningham has two volumes yet to write to complete the series, one containing the lives of sculptors, and another of architects. We cannot attempt more to-day, than to give a short extract from the volume before us; next Saturday we shall introduce our readers more particularly to its contents. We select from the life of West the account of the ORIGIN OF THE PRESENT ROYAL ACADEMY. things, by describing their origin and uses. Nor does our author limit himself to doing them this service. He pursues the enquiries he has endeavoured to awaken in their minds into those regions of observation and reflection, which are properly the province of maturer years. This, too, has its advantages. There is a prospective striving in the human mind, which always carries our curiosity somewhat in advance of our faculties. We anticipate in fancy the thoughts and feelings of a more advanced state of our mental development. It is this power of projecting ourselves into the future by which our advances in knowledge are principally made; and it is an object of the highest importance to cherish it from the first. In connexion with this, we feel ourselves called upon to notice with praise the style of language in this book. It is plain, and easy to be understood, but utterly devoid of those tasteless approximations to the dialect of the nurpeople. It is always more safe in attempting to accommodate yourself to the apprehension of children, to speak somewhat above than below their level. Their intellect makes more rapid strides than we are aware of. Besides, forcing them to exert their apprehensive faculties, braces and invigorates them; while speaking with them in the baby tongue keeps them longer fit residents of the nur "While West was painting the Departure of Regulus, the present Royal Academy was planned. The Society of Incorporated Artists, of which he was a member, had grown rich by yearly exhibitions, and how to lay out this money became the subject of vehement debate. The archi-sery, which disfigure so many works composed for young tects were for a house, the sculptors for statues, and the painters proposed a large gallery for historical works, while a mean and sordid meinber or two voted to let it lie and grow more, for it was pleasant to see riches accumulate. West, who happened to be a director, approved of none of these notions, and, with Reynolds, withdrew from the association. The newspapers of the day noticed these indecent bickerings, and the King, learning the cause from the lips of West, declared that he was ready to patronize any association formed on principles calculated to advance the interests of art. A plan was proposed by some of the dissenters, and submitted to his Majesty, who corrected it, and drew up some additional articles with his own hand. "Meanwhile the Incorporated Artists continued their debates, in total ignorance that their dissenting brethren were laying the foundation of a surer structure than their own. Kirby, teacher of perspective to the King, had been chosen President but so secretly was all managed, that he had never heard a whisper in the palace concerning the new Academy, and in his inaugural address from the chair, he assured his companions that his Majesty would not countenance the schismatics. While West was one day busy with his Regulus, the King and Queen looking on, Kirby was announced, and his Majesty, having consulted his consort in German, admitted him, and introduced him to West, to whose person he was a stranger. He looked at the picture, praised it warmly, and congratulated the artist; then, turn ing to the King, said, 'Your Majesty never mentioned any thing of this work to me-who made the frame?-it is not made by one of your Majesty's workmen-it ought to have been made by the royal carver and gilder.' To this impertinence the King answered with great calmness, Kirby, whenever you are able to paint me such a picture as this, your friend shall make the frame. I hope, Mr West,' said Kirby, that you intend to exhibit this picture?'It is painted for the palace,' said West, and its exhibition must depend upon his Majesty's pleasure.'-' Assuredly,' said the King, I shall be very happy to let the work be shown to the public. Then, Mr West,' said Kirby, you will send it to my exhibition.'- No!' interrupted his Majesty, it must go to my exhibition-to that of the Royal Academy.' The President of the Associated Artists bowed with much humility, and retired. He did not long survive this mortification, and his death was imputed, by the founders of the new Academy, to jealousy of their rising establishment, but by those who knew him well, to a more ordinary cause, the decay of nature. The Royal Academy was founded, and in its first exhibition appeared the Regulus." We promise our readers several highly interesting extracts from this work in our next. Bertha's Visit to her Uncle in England. In three vols. We have been very much pleased with this little book. Its aim is to awaken the attention of children to the objects in nature and art which they see around them, and to rub off that fatal rust so apt to gather around the juvenile mind, when a habit is acquired of ceasing to take an interest in what is familiar to it. We know of no greater service that can be done to children, than to make sery. Remains of the late Rev. A. Fisher, Minister of Queen Edin corded our dislike to posthumous publications. If not, We cannot at present recollect whether we ever rewe wish to do so now, because the practice, which is, in general, of very questionable propriety, and is, in some cases, altogether unwarrantable, has of late been of alarming frequency. Distinguished literary characters are a sort of public property, and we are curious to see even their most trifling scraps, for the author's sake. But in the case of a new author no such sympathy exists; and, by giving publicity to commonplace or ill-digested papers, which were never intended for the press, indiscreet friends both insult the public, and injure the memory of the dead. Who is likely to profit by such lucubrations? Experience answers, the trunkmaker. Our objection especially regards the posthumous publication of sermons. Every clergyman is supposed to leave behind him MSS. Now, let us take the clergy of Great Britain at the very moderate computation of one hundred thousand each clergyman writes twenty sermons, i. e. two octavo volumes, annually; in one generation we should have thirty times two hundred thousand,—that is, six million new books of sermons alone! This would form a pretty addition to the theological literature of the next generation; and against this, or even a more severe judgment, they can have no security, if booksellers are made heirs-general to every bit of blotted paper which a man leaves behind him at his death. Seriously, injudicious relatives are the worst of all literary nuisances; and they ought to be made sensible that, in giving publicity to his manuscripts, they often make as cruel an exposure of their departed friend, as if they were to transfer his dead body to the table of the anatomist; and with less apology, since, in the latter case, they would be conferring upon mankind a less questionable benefit than in the former. We do not wish these remarks to bear particularly hard upon the "Remains of the Rev. A. Fisher." On the contrary, we think this volume a favourable specimen of the class to which it belongs. The prefixed Memoir describes Mr Fisher as an amiable and a pious young man ; and his sermons, though scarcely possessing that degree of excellence which should, in our opinion, entitle them to publication, exhibit many proofs of a mind elegant and well cultivated, and by no means deficient in vigour. As far as we are able to judge of this work, it appears to be one of the very best upon this comprehensive subject which has yet been given to the public. It is clearly and philosophically arranged, and written in a style of great perspicuity and vigour. Its contents are compiled from a careful collation of the works of all the most eminent geographers, from the days of Busching down to those of Gaspari, Balbi, Malte Brun, Rennell, Vincent, Pinkerton, and Playfair. The immense work published at Weimar in 1819, from the united pens of five of the most celebrated of the German geographers, and also the splendid volumes on Asiatic and African geography by Ritter, have been likewise used as valuable text-books by the Editor. The present undertaking is to extend to six volumes, two of which only are as yet published, embracing the geography of Europe. The maps and embellishments are executed in the first style of art; and, alto- | gether, we consider it due to the spirited conductors of the work to express our conviction, that it will be found a truly scientific and excellent system of geographical knowledge. MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. FINE ARTS. FOURTH EXHIBITION OF ANCIENT PAINTINGS IN THE GAL- We have watched with a painful interest the dissensions it. in which their secession originated. We think that they the part of the artists, as to the constitution and aim of had their rise in a great measure in misconceptions on the Institution, and of the nature of their connexion with of that body conducted themselves during the discussions with a degree of hauteur towards the artists, that left them, as men of spirit and independence, no alternative but to secede-in a manner, which, from what we know of these gentlemen, we are sure they themselves must regret, now that they have had time to cool. But even yet, separated though these bodies are, they may be mutually of advantage to each other—and, at all events, there is a wide enough field for each to exert itself, without coming into collision with the other. While the artists are busied exhibiting their works, and employing the proceeds for the advantage of their profession, the Institution may be engaged most beneficially for art in exhibiting occasionally the works of the ancient masters, in forming a gallery of paintings, in perfecting the arrangements of the Trustees' Academy, (with which most of the Directors are connected,) and in supporting the Life Academy, which, though it has been interrupted, will not, we trust, be allowed to fall to the ground. We look with interest and hope to the proceedings of both bodies. The Institution may find more slavish panegyrists o all their actions, the Academy (or at least a portion of it) writers more ready to become the echoes of their angry passions; but neither the one nor the other will easily find warmer or truer well-wishers, or persons more ready and willing to eulogise their good deeds. At the same time, we are aware that some members To leave this preliminary matter, and come to our more immediate object, the merits of the present Exhibition, --we think it one calculated to afford a high treat to the lover of art, and one for which our painters ought to be most especially grateful, as affording them an opportunity of studying, on a pretty extended scale, the various characteristics and excellencies of the masters of their art. The full value of the Exhibition, considered in this point of view, will be more justly appreciated, if we pause for a moment, and cast a glance over the history of painting. Accordingly, we propose no more, in this introductory notice, than to present our readers with a sketch of the principal schools, and point out how far the paintings now in the rooms of the Royal Institution will go in enabling the student to make himself acquainted with their leadpeculiarities. We embrace with pleasure this opportunity of discharging our part of the debt of gratitude, which every lover of the Fine Arts in Scotland owes to the Directors of the Royal Institution. For some half century back, a taste for paintings has been spreading in Edinburgh. Attempts have been made both by artists and amateurs to get up regular exhibitions, which, after going on with considerable success, have from time to time been intermitted. The Board of Trustees for the encouragementing of Arts and Manufactures, opened their Drawing Academy, originally intended for educating ornamental manufacturers alone, to young men of talent who had devoted themselves to art; and that this might be of the greater service to such artists, they extended their beautiful collection of casts from the antique. In the year 1819, some of the most distinguished amateurs in Edinburgh, most of them connected with the Board, projected the Institution for the encouragement of the Fine Arts; and, under its auspices, annual exhibitions of the works of modern artists have ever since been regularly opened in this city. To these the Institution has added on different occasions exhibitions of paintings by the Ancient Masters. greater publicity thus given to the works of our artists, and the emulation thereby excited, the taste created in the public for paintings by more frequent opportunities of seeing them, and the more elevated and refined feeling of art begot by the conjoined influence of the Trustees' Academy, and the exhibitions of ancient paintings, are advantages whose results are now visible in the immense strides which art has made among us during the last ten years and for this we do not hesitate to say, that we have mainly to thank the Directors of the Royal Institution. The In paying this merited tribute to these gentlemen, it is far from being our intention to pass an oblique censure on the founders and supporters of the Scottish Academy. The two principal, and, indeed, the only two independent and original schools of painting in modern Europe, are those of the Netherlands and of Italy. Under the former, we include the kindred and short-lived school of the Nether Rhine. The most distinguished painters of France, England, and modern Germany, derived their impulse from, and many of them formed their style upon, the works of one or other of these two schools. The consequence is, that we can often trace in the character of their productions the features of their models, and, at all events, we can uniformly trace the school of any of these last-mentioned nations historically backwards, till we find the point where it branched off from the parent stem in Italy or Holland. It is different, however, with the schools of art in these two countries. Not only are they essentially unlike in their characters, they are of coeval and independent origin, and their developement has been different, and under different auspices. According to Vasari, in his Lives of the Painters, this art was imported into Italy from Byzantium. His story is, that some artists from that city had been called to Florence to assist in the decoration of some church, and that Cimabue picked up from them a smattering of the art, which he continued to practise after their departure. is not very probable that all the painters of Italy owed their education to the school of Cimabue; but this story shows, at least, how the art was introduced into that part It |