have each their separate claims to admiration. Reginald. I have not yet paid my respects to Miss Honor O'Hara, but shall lose no time in doing so. But I have read a production by a lady in a sister department of literature, being a poetical instead of a prose work of fiction, Worcester Field, by Miss Strickland; a poem in the style of Scott and Moore, which does credit to the author's talents. It is illustrated with notes; and I recommend both notes and text to your attention. I will read a brief extract from the first canto; the poem contains four: Emerging from the foliage green, A troop of horsemen ride. His brave companions came: Their lifted broad-swords gleaming blaze, As near they came arose on high Descending on the trembling plain, They rush'd upon the foe. With well-determined skill; In gallant order still. No moment there De Lacy staid, Upon their battle came : A flashing light his course reveal'd, False traitors to the dust! Counsellor Eitherside. See, here's a worthy companion to the Forget Me Not, Alaric Watts's Literary Souve nir. I shall place them side by side in my cabinet of curiosities, as specimens of the high state of the arts among us. It is impossible, I think, for the printer to do more for any work than has been done for these: the binders, too, have excelled their former efforts; the edges have the appearance of a mass of burnished gold. Mr. Apathy. Psha! what matters all this frippery, if the literary contents are not of a corresponding value? It is like decking a calf's head with a laurel crown. Counsellor Eitherside. A most outrageously outré simile, my dear sir: but I can assure you that the interior is as brilliant as the exterior is captivating. The Forget Me Not you can judge of yourself, and I am sure of a favourable verdict. Then THE LITERARY COTERIE. the Souvenir, with many contributions from the same celebrated writers who have adorned the pages of its contemporary, contains some elegant morceaux from the pens of Mr. Southey, Mr. Campbell, Mr. Wilson (of Edinburgh), Lord Leveson Gower, Dr. Drake, and a host of others, including the accomplished editor himself, one of the sweetest poets of the day; and all these great names have maintained their claims to preeminence. The Counsellor. I think the following, by Mr. Watts, are amongst the best verses in the book: THE GREY HAIR. Come let me pluck that silver bair, Which midst thy clustering curls I see; The withering type of time or care Hath nothing, sure, to do with thee! Years have not yet impair'd the grace That charm'd me once, that chains me now; And Envy's self, love, cannot trace One wrinkle on thy placid brow! Thy features have not lost the bloom Thine unambitious beauty yet! And if the passing clouds of care Have cast their shadows o'er thy face, They have but left triumphant there A holier charm-more witching grace. And if thy voice hath sunk a tone, And sounds more sadly than of yore, It hath a sweetness, all its own, Methinks I never mark'd before! Thus, young and fair, and happy tooIf bliss indeed may here be won In spite of all that Care can do, Is you white hair a boon of love, To thee in mildest mercy given? A sign, a token from above, Reginald. It purports to be a description of the intrigues (I do not use the word in the bad sense) carried on in, and a sketch of the principal persons who frequent, that fashionable place of resort; to be, in fact, a picture of life at Almack's : and as the difficulty of obtaining admission to that club or coterie is immense, and it requires both influence and address to combat the caprices of the lady-patronesses, Almack's is a sealed book even to nine-tenths of the fashionable circles in town. Any thing like a correct representation, therefore, of the arcana of this mysterious place is sure to be well received and eagerly read; and as the name alone excites interest, even a worthless production would be sure to attract attention on its first appearance, and obtain readers, till the humbug should be exposed. The Vicar. Who is the author of Almack's? Reginald. Report says Lady Foley: but I suspect this is merely a ruse de guerre of the bookseller to sell his book. I am inclined to think Almack's, though displaying considerable tact and cleverness in its To lead thy thoughts from earth to heaven? light and airy sketches, is not the To speak to thee of life's decay; Of beauty hastening to the tomb; Of hopes that cannot fade away; Of joys that never lose their bloom? production of one of the initiated. If it be, the frivolity, the heartlessness, and even the vulgarity of the people of haut ton is disgusting. Of course I profess to know nothing of the manners and habits of this too push for power now. I can tell you, some of the party are difficult enough to deal with; so I may as well, chemin fai exclusive class; but I think a lady-sant, give you a sketch of our leaders." patroness of Almack's would never express herself in the following language. It is Lady Hauton addressing the Baroness de Wallestein, "the Austrian ambassadress,"as the author terms her-" what a vile phrase!" "I am afraid we are late, my dear baroness, and there will be so much to do, just at the opening of the campaign. Hauton wanted to have had my carriage this morning, because he broke the spring of his chariot on Saturday night at the door of the Opera-House, and he wished to pay a bore of a visit to his money-shop in the city to-day, in order to negociate a fresh loan with that troublesome animal his banker; but I told him his supplies must wait till to-morrow. God knows that's what they seldom do! But now to business. You cannot think how delighted I am that we managed so cleverly to get you amongst us, my dear Madame de Wallestein: I foretell much prosperity to Almack's in consequence! You and I must manage, however, to carry things our own way. We must make a bold Again: "I manage all the ladies by a little tact, as thus: I laugh and amuse the duchess, when she is confined or musing; I flatter Lady Plinlimmon; I bully Lady Bellamont; and I scold Lady Rochefort." In fact, if Almack's be a correct representation of the language and manners and feelings of the people of high life, it will tend much to depreciate them in public opinion. consult our watches, and found that We now began simultaneously to we had by far exceeded the usual hour at which our coterie made it a point to separate. This discovery made, all further discussion was adjourned by mutual consent; and we bade each other good night, and "Wended each our separate way, and slow." REGINALD HILDEBRAND. ELMWOOD-HALL, Dec. 14, 1826. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LATE WILLIAM WARD, ASSOCIATE ENGRAVER OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY, AND HIS MASTER, J. R. SMYTH. BY W. C. WILLIAM WARD was born in London in the year 1766, and having manifested a strong inclination for drawing, when a schoolboy, his parents, from the praise bestowed on some of his rude efforts, conceived great hopes of his future proficiency. They shewed his attempts to John Raphael Smyth, then esteemed the best mezzotinto-engraver in England; and that artist was so pleased with them and with the boy's mild manVol. IX. No. XLIX. ners, that he took him as an apprentice. We may conceive that those indications of his talents were but very slight, for the young aspirant was only about thirteen years old when indentured. Of John Raphael Smyth, as the master of William Ward, it may be interesting to the reader to know something. That artist was the soni of John Smyth, a landscape-painter, who, from his having resided in Der G by, and being born in that county, || tinto prints, in fancy characters, from was called Smyth of Derby, in con- the most popular novels of the day. tradistinction from the Sussex land- His merit, at length, recommended scape-painters, his contemporaries, him to some of the principal pubwho were known as the Smiths of Chi-lishers; and being occasionally emchester. From his reverence for the ployed to scrape plates after pictures great old masters, John Smyth gave by Sir Joshua Reynolds, he made a his sons celebrated names: the eldest rapid improvement, and gave such was christened Thomas Coreggio, satisfaction to the President of the the younger John Raphael; but so Royal Academy, that he was encoumistaken was he in their capabilities, raged to remove from Bateman'sthat he brought up the former to the buildings and to open a print-shop profession of a portrait-painter, in in Oxford-street, nearly opposite the which, with considerable advantages Pantheon. There he fell in with of instruction, he never even ap- George Morland, and turned his inproached to mediocrity. On the con- timacy with that artist to a lucrative trary, Raphael, whom he apprenticed account. His prints, after his friend to a linen-draper, used to employ his George's pictures of the Piggery, the spare hours in drawing, and made Stable, the Farm-Yard, and other some progress, by his own natural rustic subjects, had an astonishing abilities, under every disadvantage. sale. The plates of some ale-house After the term, for which he had been scenes, village groups, and smugglers, articled, expired, he, for two years, after the paintings of that popular acted as foreman to a linen-draper artist, were worn out and regrounded on Ludgate-hill, and continued to with the mezzotinto tool two or three practise drawing occasionally. When times. These prints proved a mine he had acquired some facility and of wealth to Smyth, who used to confidence in this course of applica- boast jocularly that he need not limit tion, he abandoned the shop alto- his expenses, having found out the gether, with a determination to run secret of converting copper into gold. all risks as a self-taught artist, throw- They mainly contributed to render ing himself upon the patronage of him a leading printseller; and by the public. suiting his publications to the spirit of the day, he acquired correspond noted publishers on the Continent. Having made a trial in mezzotintoscraping with some success, he perse-ents and connections among the most vered in that branch of chalcography, and obtained work from an indifferent mezzotinto-scraper, named Humphries, who kept a second-rate printshop close to Temple-Bar. Smyth's prints, even then, possessed considerable freedom and spirit, and he soon rose into vogue. His popularity was chiefly owing to his taste in drawing certain gay ladies of fashionable notoriety, from whose wholelength portraits he published mezzo Under this master young William Ward made a steady progress. Smyth dissipated his time and money with little thought, and was incapable of resisting the calls of pleasure; but his pupil delighted in his art, and reaped the reward of his diligent application. His advance was so very quick, that he soon became a principal assistant to his master, and was entrusted with the execution of his nolds's exquisite picture of Lady Hamilton, was one. I saw William Ward at work on that plate from day to day until he had brought it to a proof ready for publication. Nothing could be more charming in its was always disposed to do justice to merit, expressed his high admiration of it; but he took the tool in hand, worked on the plate for little more than a couple of hours, sent it to the writing-engraver to have his name engraved under it, and published it as his own. This was not deemed by Ward any unfairness; nor is it here noticed as such. It was an act most important works, in bringing them forward to the last stage of finishing. Smyth had a good eye, a great facility, and was thoroughly grounded in the principles of light and shade, from his having worked after so many of Reynolds's paint-class than that print. Smyth, who ings. There was a loose bewitching freedom in his best prints which fully expressed all the spirit of the President's pencil. I well remember hearing the latter say, with evident pleasure, on looking at a proof of his admirable print of Colonel Tarleton, "It has every thing but the colouring of my picture." Ward acquired all Smyth's sound principles of breadth and truth, with his painter-like free-in strict conformity with their special dom of hand, and somewhat more of depth in his masses. If there be any perceptible defect in Smyth's best prints, it is that they sometimes are of too equal a colour; his love of breadth led him, in particular parts, into a woolliness: there is a want of sharpness in some of the deciding touches and of extreme force in the darkest shadows. These defects, however, exist only in a very slight degree, and were not so much occasioned by a want of taste, as by his abhorrence of every approach to a hard, dry, and petty manner. contract. Such was Ward's modest opinion of his own abilities, and his just estimate of Smyth's excellence, that I am persuaded he would have considered it an injustice to have had his name affixed to that or any other print to which his master had given the last touches of his tasteful and scientific hand. The Bacchante is one of those unrivalled prints in which Reynolds, Smyth, and Ward are seen in all their glory; it certainly possesses, besides its enchanting gaiety and allurement of expression, more of that exquisite combination of sharpness and softness which constitutes the spirit and tenderness of flesh, than any other mezzotinto that I at present remember. Ward completed the term of his apprenticeship with credit to himself and with great profit to his master. He was then engaged by Smyth at a liberal salary, and continued for some years to execute the chief part It is but justice to observe, that of that artist's plates, who, after it has been the practice of the emiworking a little on each, had his nent engravers of the old schools name, according to the custom of the to affix their own names to those day, engraved under them, and pub-plates in which they conjointly worklished them as his own performances.ed with their able assistants, and to Of the prints finished in this way, which they gave the finishing stroke. that most beautiful mezzotinto of the Bartolozzi, and all the eminent enBacchante, from Sir Joshua Rey-gravers of the time, excepting Strange, |