something of the spirit of the old masters of Italy revived for a brief space. Its founders were Louis Carracci,

ter in this department, as well for the simple grandeur of his ideas, as for the marked character which he succeeds in impressing upon all his subjects. The small landscape (95) attributed to this artist, although placed in a bad situation, and tolerably dirty, will richly repay a narrow examination. Great though he be, however, he does not win upon our love like Claude—the rich and

The

and his two nephews, Augustin and Hannibal ;-the
uncle was born in 1555, and died in 1629. They
have been called Eclectics in art, from their principle of
imitating whatever they found good in the works of their
predecessors, yet with such modifications, as made it har-
monise with their own peculiar style. Hannibal is, un-lovely-the sharer of Nature's sweetest secrets.
deniably, the greatest genius of the three; the most
learned artist, the most powerful drawer, and possessed
of the greatest mastery of the pencil. There is a beauti-
ful little piece by him in the Exhibition-Mercury and
Argus (32.) Two Saints (18 and 29) are possibly from
the pencil of Louis.-Guido Reni, the most distinguished
scholar of the Carracci, threw into his earlier works strong
masses of shade, intermingled with striking lights, after
the manner of Louis Carracci. At a later period, he as-
sumed, by the advice of Hannibal, a clearer tone of colour-
ing, as more congenial to the cheerfulness which charac-
terises his talent.-Domenichino excels in the management
of profoundly studied compositions, and has succeeded in
appropriating, by severe labour, much both of the grand- |
eur and beauty of the antique.-Albano was a mere
copyist of the forms of the Carracci, but without enter-
ing into their spirit.-Guercino, we know from his own
confession, took the first suggestion of his strong shadows
and piquant lights from the works of Louis Carracci. It
is evident that he had but little feeling of the ideal. His
Mercury and Argus, (6,) when brought into comparison
with the same subject by Hannibal Carracci, (32,) will
show pretty accurately the relation in which he stands to
that master. His "Abraham on Mount Moriah" would
be a fine picture, but for the expression of the Isaac's face,
in which (if we may be allowed to parody the technical
language of artists) the face of the sheep behind him seems
to be repeated.

landscape, No. 14, has suffered much, but is still every
inch a Claude. No. 53, on the contrary, though it at-
tracts at first by its gaudy colouring, does not stand a
nearer and long-continued scrutiny. Nos. 33 and 124
are by Salvator Rosa, and to these two pictures (particu-
larly the latter) we are inclined to give the palm above
all the landscapes in the rooms. They tell us of the haste
of Rosa's execution, for the manner in which his colours
are worked in show it, but the composition of his pictures
speaks of long hours of study in the profound recesses of
his own mind.

ments.

The great merit of all these artists consists in their having struggled, with more or less success, to free art from the monotonous mannerism which had palsied it, to bring it nearer to truth and nature, and to extend its limits by the introduction of new and original forms and arrangeIt seems, however, the fate of all reformers, to be succeeded by a class of half-learned men, who distort their principles and render them hideous by half apprehending them. Caravaggio and his scholar Spagnoletto stand in this relation to the Carracci. Through a misapprehension of the true meaning of the word "natural," they not only renounced all mannerism, but all particular choice of form. Their Madonnas are mere common women, their Christs mere commonplace boys. Nay, they have carried it so far as to excite an occasional suspicion that they have sought, instead of avoiding, vulgar and disagreeable subjects. They are the Galts of painting. With all their faults, however, their works give evidence of much talent and experience; and their strong contrasts of light and shade are well calculated to allure the many. Spagnoletto's Philosopher (115) is a fair specimen of his style.Francis Mola may be regarded as holding an intermediate place between these two schools.

During the earliest and brightest harvest of art in Italy, landscape does not seem to have been cultivated as a separate branch. Beautiful specimens of landscape are to be found in the works of the earlier masters, but, in general, employed only as a subsidiary ornament of some large composition. It is among the Tramontane artists that we must seek the origin of landscape painting. Vasari, when speaking of a landscape by Titian, mentions it as done after the manner of the "Tedeschi," who used to paint such subjects; and the first who devoted themselves in Italy exclusively to landscape painting were natives of Antwerp. The Italians communicated to it somewhat of the ideal character of their country's higher school of painting. Caspar Dughet, who was a brotherin-law of Nicholas Poussin, and who afterwards assumed his name, is deservedly looked upon as the greatest mas

Of Rubens, Vandyke, and Rembrandt, who belong to the Netherlands, but whose works are full of Italian genius, we much regret that our limits at present do not permit us to speak as we could wish. There is a fine St Simeon, (137,) and some exquisite sketches, by Rubens ; a noble Belisarius by Vandyke; and by Rembrandt, "The Tribute Money," a work, whose rich mellow tones make every thing near it look feeble, except our favourite Cuyp. Nor must we forget to mention, that an "Allegorical subject," by Jordaens, is the most gorgeous piece of colouring we have seen for many a day.

It is with no small pride that we turn from these classical schools to look upon the works of our own island masters which enrich this Exhibition. The portraits of the Duchess of Buccleuch and Lady Mary Montague, by Sir Joshua Reynolds, are, prejudice apart, the finest pictures in the room. The little landscape by Wilson (59) will stand a competition with any of its companions. And "The King," by the lamented Lawrence, notwithstanding all its faults of colouring, is worthy of the subject. The face is superbly modelled, and we see down through the clear transparent eye into the very soul.

THE PSALMS OF DAVID.

To the Editor of the Edinburgh Literary Journal. writing, in verse as well as in prose, there is no man to Ir good sense, Mr Editor, is the foundation of good whom I should more cheerfully consign the important task of revising our Psalmody, than to your anonymous correspondent in the last Number of the Literary Journal. His Paper gives a simple and most correct view of the subject; it is, in my opinion, worth all the palaver of I mean no disrespect all the enthusiasts put together. to Mr Tennant, however, of whom it may be justly said that he is even more celebrated for his genius than his learning. Though no poet, I have ventured to try my hand, in compliance with the wishes of your anonymous correspondent; and, in doing so, I hope to set an example which men, infinitely my superiors, may not think unworthy of imitation. Here are a few of his exercises, or new readings of certain parts of the Psalms:Ps. i. 3. "He shall be like a goodly tree

THE event of the week in the Dramatic world of Edinburgh, has been the retirement of Mrs Henry Siddons from the stage, or, as the bills express it, from "the Edinburgh Stage," the meaning of which equivoque is, that Mrs Siddons conceived it possible she might at some future period be induced to accept of a short engagement in London, or elsewhere, and wished to leave the door open for her doing so. Let nobody contradict this statement "on authority," or in any other way; for we know it to have been the fact, though it is possible Mrs Siddons may have since changed her mind. The house, upon Monday evening, was filled to bursting, and the heart of every individual seemed as full as the house. But, having indulged in some very pretty pathos concerning Mrs Siddons a fortnight ago, we do not intend to draw any farther draughts at present upon our readers' good-nature. She made her final exit with great applause, as was fitting, and is going to spend some time in Paris. In a subsequent page will be found the Farewell Address, which was written for her by Sir Walter Scott. It is fully as poor as such compositions usually are; containing little

His

much he would infuse a little additional energy into the mo-
tions of his legs and arms. There is, in particular, a want
of decision in the manner in which he moves his arms;-let
him give them a freer swing, and a bolder scope.
action at present is what a Frenchman would call trop
coupé. The songs in which he principally distinguished
himself were the barcarole "Take heed," and the beau-
tiful melody, "My sister dear." In the mad scene, too,
where he sings snatches of different airs, he was very
successful. We hesitate not to say, that we have now
greater hopes of Mr Wilson than we had before.

"Who seeks the general weal, secures his own'
Such the arch-precept of the latest school
Of Ethical discovery-alone

Varying in sound from the Athenian's rule.
The gentle creed of Nazareth is full

Of a like spirit-fairer and more free-
Then cease to cry Eureka! haste and cool
Thy crazed disciples' neophytic glee,
Utilitarian Priest-word-wedding Jeremy!

Who doubts the maxim of the Benthamites?
'Tis co-existent with the human soul,'
And of its shrine one of the sacred lights-
Though oft-times clouded by the gross control
Of the dust's opaque demon-he, the sole
Keeper of the multitudinous cells,
Wherein earth's anticks, miserably droll,

Make mouths at Heaven to smirking Folly's bells,
Shaming the voiceless brute that in the desert dwells.

Probably the finest music of this opera is arranged for the choruses, and Mr Murray has more than surprised us by the very excellent band of chorus-singers he has contrived to muster. Certain folks have been raving of late about the operatic force at the Caledonian Theatre, which is middling enough after all, or if it is first-rate, then at the Theatre Royal it is more than first-rate, for we defy the Caledonian people, with all their strength, to sing either the barcarole or the Market chorus, as it is sung at the other house. Be it remarked, however, that it is not upon this point that we rest the infinite superiority of the one establishment over the other.-Miss Phillips, as Donna Elvira, sings as well as she can, which is pretty well; and Miss Tunstall, with her high clear pipe, is both of great use in the choruses, and introduces a pretty Tyrolese air," Green hills of Tyrol," which does not belong to the opera at all. The Market chorus is the most striking composition of the whole. It catches the ear at once, like the Hunter's Cho-To rus in the "Freischutz," and bids fair to become almost as popular. Having said so much of the music of Masaniello, which we consider fully as good as any that has been written since the death of Weber, it is but justice to add, that the Manager has taken care to give full effect to the melo-dramatic department. The new scenery and dresses are excellent, and the eruption of Vesuvius, with which the piece concludes, is managed with much splendour. Miss Jarman plays Masaniello's sister, "The dumb girl," and of course does the part every justice. The piece altogether is entitled to great praise.

It is a curious fact, that the same gentleman whom we rebuked lately for his too great partiality to the Caledonian Theatre, and who spoke of the rich and chaste humour" of the performers there, has recently found out that they are almost all Cockneys, and thus expresseth himself concerning them :-" Truth to say, it is only the exceptions who do not sport Donnar and Mariar, with most of the other flowers of the Cockney vocabulary." Our excellent friend is evidently coming round to the true faith, and we are glad we did not give him the shake

we meditated.

We saw an absurd paragraph in one of the newspapers this week, stating “that Mr Murray had received a handsome offer from Charles Kemble to perform at Covent Garden, should circumstances oblige him to leave Edinburgh." We hate small bits of humbug like this. Mr Murray has no more intention of leaving Edinburgh than the Register Office has. He is now the sole lesser of the Theatre Royal, and by it he will stand or fall. Old Cerberus.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

THE NEW PHILOSOPHY.

By William Kennedy, Author of " Fitful Fancies." "VIRTUE is pleasure," said a Grecian sage,

"And the most virtuous, the happiest far;" A nobler sentiment upon the page

Of Revelation sparkles like a 'star.
Men have done much his pure intent to mar,
Whom many follow, and but few obey;
But truth will laugh, however fools may jar,—

Tired Reason shall at length spurn Falsehood's sway,
Exulting like the sun, when storms have roll'd away.

In morals 'tis an axiom-here-even here

Upon this slippery " bank and shoal of time,"
With hell-fire in abeyance-noon-day clear,—
The worst like not to be the sport of crime,
Drench'd with their own foul vintage-every clime
To sins peculiar adds their punishment-
The unity of Justice is sublime-

I should have said of Mercy-for 'tis meant
urge them back to peace, whose steps are woward bent.

And dismal were this globe were it not so!
'Tis bad enough; but it is Paradise,
Compared to what it would be, were there no
Terrestrial scourge for the salt blood of Vice-
Lust, flame-respiring, homicidal Pride,

And all our household devils running wild,
Would roam, high-fed and rampant, far and wide,
Making that hideous, yet but half defiled,
Trampling each shoot of good on arid life that smiled.

Of sermonizing we have had enough—
If this besotted land will not awaken,
It is not framed of penetrable stuff-

Cobbett himself hath to the rostrum taken,
Teaching Britannia how to save her bacon-
Cool Owen lauds his parallelogram
With pertinacity, by sneers unshaken-

And would therein all sorts of people cram,
Penning, in common fold, ass, lion, wolf, and lamb.

But Ill will keep its throne, till doomsday steal,
Thief-like, upon the prowlers of the world;
They who to abstract equity appeal,

Will find the general lip derisive, curl'd.
In vain, Philanthropy! thy flag's unfurl'd
On distant Harmony's Millennian heights;
Dissension's blazing brands shall still be hurl'd,

And maugre all that honest Bentham writes,
Laws will be Knavery's tools, and suitors hapless wights.

Marshal, Old Truepenny! a chosen band,

And let them furnish practice to thy preaching—
Actions, the shallowest brain can understand,
Examples, the sure mode of moral teaching-
Proclaim a truce to threatening and beseeching,
In streets and highways plant each partisan,
Purified from the itch for over-reaching,
Sworn foes to every ceco-selfish plan,

Warm and unflinching friends to the old house of man.
And then-"God speed the cause!" pray I for one-
A worthier never link'd true hearts together—
The faint may fall before the harvest's done-
The stoutest hardly brave the wayward weather,

But more than Mammon's gem, or Honour's feather,
Shall the survivors of the field repay,
When Sorrow's children round a glad hearth gather,
To speak of those who chased their griefs away—
Who flinty Custom crush'd that ground them in the clay.

A SONG,

Not entirely Bacchanalian.

To Woman!-a bumper! come pledge me, my boys,
And pledge me with heart and with soul;
Give the pedant his learning, the statesman his toys,
But ours be the smile and the bowl!

Though it needs not the glow of the generous cup
To make woman's presence divine,

Yet, where bumpers are drunk, be the highest fill'd up
To the Goddess who hallows the wine!

We love the dark juice of the ruby-hued grape,

For the bright thoughts it wreaths round the brain,
Like the stars which at twilight from bondage escape,
And come forth in the blue sky again;

But the thought of all thoughts is of her we love best,
The fond one whose heart is our own,

A thought whose effulgence obscures all the rest,
As the sun walks through heaven alone!

Then to her, boys, to her be the bumper now crown'd,
With feelings which tongue cannot tell ;-

If the tone of her voice be a magical sound,
If the glance of her eye be a spell;

If the flush of her cheek be the fairest of sights,
If her lip be the holiest shrine,

Then, believe me, the toast which her beauty invites,
Turns to gold every drop of our wine!

If life be a good, 'tis to her that we owe it,~~
If genius a gift, 'tis that she is the theme,-

If love be a bliss, 'tis through her that we know it,—
O! without her this world were a wearisome dream!
Then, a bumper! a bumper! if ever you fill'd it,

A bumper to her, both our hope and our pride!
A scheme for the future-if ever you build it--
Fill a bumper to woman and make her your guide!
H. G. B.

SOLITUDE-A SONNET.

WITH silence for my comrade, and the chance
Of varying moods and scenes to be my guide,
Again let me ascend thy rugged side,
Paternal mountain! and in joy advance
Along thy ridges, where the wild-flowers dance
To the wind's music,-where the vapours glide
Slowly at noon-tide, or in stillness bide

In thy deep clefts, as in a holy trance,

Sir John Sinclair has a work in the press likely to prove exceedingly interesting. It is to consist of his Correspondence with all the most distinguished Personages of his Time, together with his own personal Reminiscences of them. In this work will be included Letters from many of the crowned heads of Europe, from the most distinguished statesmen, both of this and other countries, and from a great variety of literary characters of the highest eminence.

Among a list of seventy-six new works announced by Messrs Colburn and Bentley, we observe the following:-Wedded Life in the Upper Ranks.-The Oxonians, or a Glance at Society.-Personal Memoirs of Pryce L. Gordon, Esq.-The Heiress of Bruges; a Tale, by the author of "Highways and Byways."-Travels in Kamtchatka, Siberia, and China, by Peter Dobell, Esq.-The 3d and 4th volumes of Commentaries on the Life and Reign of Charles I., by I. D'Israeli, Esq.-New works by the authors of "Brambletye House," Sayings and Doings," "Tales of the O'Hara Family," and "Flirtation."-East and West, by one of the authors of "Rejected Addresses."-Musical Memoirs, from 1784 to 1829, by W. T. ParkeAn Account of the Subversion of the Constitution in Portugal by Don Miguel, by Lord Porchester.-Notes on Haiti, by C. Mackenzie, Esq.The Tuileries, an Historical Romance.-The Life of Titian, by J. Northcote, Esq. R.A.-A General and Heraldic Dictionary of the Commoners of England, qualified by landed property to become County Members of Parliament, but undistinguished by any hereditary title of honour.-Stories from the old Chronicles, by the late Barry St. Leger, Esq.-The Life of John Hampden, by Lord Nugent.-A New Tale of the Sea, by the author of the "Red Rover," &c.-Letters from Switzerland and Italy, by John Carne, Esq.-The Private Correspondence of John Pinkerton, Esq., edited by Dawson Turner, Esq.-Basil Barrington and his friends.-The King's Own, a Tale of the Sea. The Life and Works of Henry Fuseli, by John Knowles, Esq.-Memoirs of Sir James Campbell of Ardkinglass, written by himself. The Spanish Novelists, by Thomas Roscoe, Esq.-The History of the Bible, by the Rev. G. R. Gleig.-St James's, a Satiri

cal Poem.

Valence, the Dreamer, a Poem, by John Phillips, M.A., is announced.

The Pensee, a selection of original poetry, by a Young Lady, is in the press.

Captain Sherer is engaged with a Life of the great Gustavus of Sweden.

M. de Chateaubriand has announced a new work on the state of France, which will appear shortly.

MR YANIEWICZ'S CONCERT.-This concert took place in the Hopetoun Rooms, on Tuesday last. It laboured under the disad vantage of being a Morning Concert, which, in this city, is always a dull affair. It was well attended, but the audience were cold and listless. Why they should have been so, we do not exactly know, for much of the music was excellent. Though Mr Yaniewicz is not so brilliant a violinist as Murray, he is perhaps his superior in delicacy of expression, and his two solos were very admirable specimens of his abilities. Miss Yaniewicz is a mistress of the The piano-forte, and Miss Paulina not inferior at the harp. Misses Patons exerted themselves with their usual success; and Mr Boyle, who made his first appearance in Edinburgh, if he did not electrify, at all events, proved himself a sweet and pleasing singer. THE LATE HUGH WILLIAMS.-We understand that this lamented artist left behind him a very valuable and complete collection of all the drawings made by him when in Greece, and, that they may be made serviceable to the public, and the profession, it is the intention of his executors, we believe, to offer them at a fair price to the directors of the Royal Institution in this city, who will probably willingly avail themselves of the opportunity to make so interesting a purchase.

MR KNOWLES'S LECTURES.-We have been astonished to find that these lectures have not as yet been very crowdedly attended, and can attribute it only to the more than usual number of gaieties which have this week distracted public attention. We certainly know of none who could give to the important subject of dramatic

Which the wide skies and landscape share with them! literature a higher degree of interest than that with which Mr

Blessed reward, my upward toil shall crown;
And though I wait till th' evening sun go down,
Yet for no loss of time shall truth condemn ;-
'Tis not in labour only and in strife
That hearts acquire their wisdom and their life.

E. O. B.

LITERARY CHIT-CHAT AND VARIETIES.

OUR readers will learn with pleasure, that Mrs Hemans is preparing another volume for publication. It will probably be called Songs of the Affections, and will include much not originally classed under that title in the Magazines or other periodicals to which Mrs Hemans contributes.

Knowles invests it, whether we regard the fine genius which he brings to bear upon it from the stores of his own mind, or the admirable manner in which he illustrates his remarks by his powers of elocution, as exemplified in his readings and recitations. Every lecture is full of varied attractions, but we are inclined to believe that the three he has yet to deliver-to-day, on Monday, and Wednesday-will be the most popular of all, because they relate almost exclusively to the modern drama, and will be enriched by many anecdotes and illustrations, which, from the lips of the author of "Virginius," come to us with tenfold force. We seriously advise those who take an interest in the drama, not to deprive themselves of the present opportunity of hearing it discussed by a master of the art. We are willing to stake our own credit that they will not be disappointed.

ELOCUTION. (From our Glasgow Correspondent.)—While you are enjoying in Edinburgh the admirale disquisitions of Mr Knowles upon an art he so much excels in the DRAMATIC-we are led to anticipate, in this city, at least one pleasant evening in the deve