peare describes with so much truth and beauty in the Merchant of Venice, when Lorenzo remarks, "How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music There is also another great error that I have observed, which consists in representing the landscape as very obscure when the full moon is rising; although this can never happen in the evening at this season, when the daylight is continued for a considerable time after the sun is set; nor does the moon enlighten any object at this time, as her light is counteracted by the strong glow in the west, which is reflected upon all that is opposed to it, and which is more particularly perceptible upon buildings and other objects of a light colour. The general hue of the scene is also very apparent, and the landscape can only be dark and colourless when the moon is rising in the winter. I am, &c. LETTER XXVII. MY DEAR SIR; I AM induced in the present instance to deviate from the general tenor of my preceding Letters in order to offer some advice to the young artist for the preservation of his health after he returns from the country, where he has been in the habit of taking regular exercise, with the additional advantage of breathing, at the same time, the pure air perhaps of a mountainous situation. By these means he usually attains a good stock of health and spirits; but instead of taking any step towards securing so valuable a state, it too frequently happens that he no sooner reaches home, than with an eager desire to make finished pictures from his sketches, he immediately shuts himself up in the confined air of, probably, a small painting room, the ill effects of which are often increased by the injurious practice of sitting, and at the same time stooping over his drawing on a low table. The consequences that follow this pernicious mode of proceeding are, that after some time has elapsed he becomes sluggish, and his mind less active than before: he is not so to say ill, nor does he feel quite well. His spirits also begin to lose in some degree their former elasticity, and he stares at his drawing for half an hour together as if in deep thought, whereas he is merely absent. To obviate these ill effects, occasioned by the sudden transition from an active to a sedentary life, I strongly advise him to rise early, and then to take a walk for an hour or more before breakfast; and in this he should persevere every morning on his return from his country excursion, and repeat his walk again in the evening. This practice of taking exercise in the open air daily, will enable the artist to bear with less injury to his health the unavoidable confinement he must experience in the pursuit of his art. But should he delay this salutary custom until he feels his health begin to suffer from close study and confinement, it will be necessary in such a case to limit his walk to a quarter of an hour for the first week, and afterwards gradually extend it as his strength increases. Some persons, however, erroneously suppose, that long continued exercise at one time, and after protracted confinement in a sedentary pursuit, which seldom fails to produce nervous debility, will answer the same end as moderate exertion daily; when, on the contrary, the unusual effort is sure to cause fatigue, and then the person who is so effected immediately concludes that exercise does not agree with him. I feel that it is necessary to add, that the young artist should accustom himself from the first to pursue his work upon an easel, and in a standing position, which will not only enable him to see the effect of his picture as he proceeds with it, but will also be more conducive to his health than sitting. I will now conclude with observing, that a walk, without any farther object in view than exercise, will not produce the same good effects as when some decided motive is added to engage the mind, and to give interest to exertion, therefore when the student takes his walk, either in the morning or the afternoon, it ought to be with the intention of improving himself in his art, which almost every situation out of the streets of London will afford him the opportunity of doing. If he should reside at the west end of the town, he may readily avail himself of Hyde Park, the Regent's Park, or perhaps, with still greater advantage, of the Edgeware Road, where the canal is carried under it. From the bridge, as the country lies open to the west, he can study the various effects of the sky; and more particularly in the afternoon, when the sun is approaching the horizon: and, finally, the grand effect of twilight. If the young artist should possess an ardent love and a true feeling for the endless beauties of nature, he |