own hair and a beard; which the king, your father, would have been ashamed to have been seen publicly without, for fear of being thought a boy, or no wise man?"

Simon was employed to model the portrait of the Duke of York, afterwards James the Second, in the same manner as he had done that of King Charles. When he had performed it in wax, an enquiry was made what reward he expected? He answered, a hundred pieces, as his majesty had given him. But it being reported, that the duke intended to give him only fifty, Simon pretending that something more was to be done to it, got the model into his own hands again, and squeezing it together, entirely defaced it. This rash and contemptuous act lost him all favour at court, and few more of his works were afterwards Thus disregarded, he wasted the remainder of his days in obscurity and want, till some years after the revolution, when he died.

seen.

INDEPENDENCE.

Cardinal Richelieu employed Phillippe de Champagne to paint the Grand Gallery of his Palace at Paris; and in order that he might obtain the whole of his time to the work, he pressingly invited the artist to take up his residence with him. Champagne, who had a happy domestic circle of his own, consisting of a son and two daughters, whom he loved dearly, declined the invitation, and though it was again and again repeated, each time with more of the air of command, he persisted firmly in his refusal. Richelieu was much piqued, and did not conceal his displeasure. But as there were not two Champagnes in the world, he

soon found it prudent to assume a conciliatory tone, and affected even to testify in public how much esteem and friendship he had for the artist. He took occasion to tell Champagne, that he wished him better than he perhaps believed; and he afterwards sent Bournais, his first Valet de Chambre, to say, that " he had only to ask freely what he wished for himself or his, and he would grant it to him." Champagne returned for answer: "that if the Cardinal could have made him an abler painter than he was, that was the only thing which he would have asked from his Eminence; but as that was impossible, he had nothing to ask but the honour of his good opinion."

"THE SORCERESS."

It is related of Mademoiselle Rozee, one of the most extraordinary painters that ever lived, that she used neither oil nor water-colours in her astonishing performances, and only worked on the rough side of the pannel with a preparation of silk floss, selected with inexpressible care, and disposed in different boxes, according to different degrees of the bright and dark tints, out of which she applied whatever colour was requisite for her work. She blended, softened, and united the tints with such inconceivable art and judgment, that she imitated the warmth of flesh with as great a glow of life, as could be produced by the most exquisite pencil in oil; nor could the nicest eye discern at a proper distance whether the whole was not the work of the pencil. Houbraken says he cannot tell how she managed her work, nor with what instruments. But by whatever art her pictures were

executed, they were truly beautiful, and like nature. Her portraits have as striking a likeness as possible; and every object was a just imitation of her model, whether the subject was portrait, architecture, landscape, or flowers; and as her manner of working could not be well accounted for, she was distinguished by the name of the Sorceress, as if her work had been the effect of magic.

One landscape painted by Mademoiselle Rozee, was sold for five hundred florins; the subject of the picture was only the trunk of an old tree covered with moss, and a large spider finishing its web among the leaves and branches; but every part appeared with so great a degree of force, so relieved, so true, and so natural, that it was always beheld with astonishment.

A PAINTER'S LAST HOURS.

When Lucas of Leyden, during the last six years of his life, lay pining under the pressure of disease, his industry and love of his art were eminently conspicuous. It having been represented to him that such close attention increased the malignity of his disorder, he calmly replied: "I am content it should be so, since by my studies I endeavour to make my bed of sickness a bed of honour. An artist can never die in a more suitable manner than with his pencil in his hand." The "Goddess Pallas" was the last plate which he engraved; and it was on requesting to see it a short time before he died, that he is said to have used these memorable words.

CLAUDE LORRAINE.

This immortal painter served an apprenticeship to the trade of a pastry-cook. In the early part of his life he showed no symptoms of that astonishing genius which, in his more advanced years, shone out in works that are beheld with admiration by all the world. At first he could with difficulty be taught the rudiments of art, but he exerted his utmost industry to explore the true principles of painting, by an incessant examination of nature. He made his studies in the open fields, where he very frequently continued from sunrise, till the dusk of the evening compelled him to withdraw from his contemplations.

HOGARTH'S LAST WORK.

A few months before Hogarth was seized with the malady which deprived society of one of its brightest crnaments, he proposed to his matchless pencil the work he has entitled the Tail Piece. The first idea of this picture is said to have been started in company while the convivial glass was circulating round his own table. My next undertaking," said Hogarth, "shall be the end of all things." "If that is the case," replied one of his friends, " your business will be finished, for there will be an end of the painter." "There will be so," answered Hogarth, sighing heavily; "and therefore the sooner my work is done, the better." Accordingly he began the next day, and continued his design with a diligence that seemed to indicate an apprehension he should not

live to complete it. This however he did, and in the most ingenious manner, by grouping every thing that could denote the end of all things :---a broken bottle; an old broom worn to the stump; the butt-end of an old musket; a cracked bell; a bow unstrung; a crown tumbled in pieces; towers in ruins; the signpost of a tavern called the World's End, falling down; the moon in her wane; the map of the globe burning; a gibbet falling, the body gone, and the chains which held it dropping down; Phoebus and his horses lying dead in the clouds; a vessel wrecked; Time with his hour-glass and scythe broken; a tobacco-pipe, with the last whiff of smoke going out; a play-book opened, with exeunt omnes stamped in the corner; an empty purse; and a statute of bankruptcy taken out against Nature. "So far so good," said Hogarth, on reviewing his performance; "nothing remains but this;" taking his pencil, and sketching the resemblance of a painter's palette broken. "Finis!" he then exclaimed, "the deed is done; all is over." It is a very remarkable fact, and not generally known, that Hogarth never again took the palette in his hand, and that he died in about a month after he had finished this Tail Piece.