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tray themselves by their over-delicacy (which is the want of all true delicacy) in this respect. But I am ashamed to be obliged to combat such silly affectations; they are beneath men who have either head or heart; they are unworthy of women who have either education or simplicity of manner; they would disgrace even waiting-maids and sentimental milliners."-Barry.

"There is no more potent antidote to low sensuality than the adoration of beauty. All the higher arts of design are essentially chaste, without respect of the object. They purify the thoughts, as tragedy, according to Aristotle, purifies the passions. Their accidental effects are not worth consideration. There are souls to whom even a vestal is not holy."—A. W. von Schlegel.

DIFFERENT SCHOOLS OF PAINTING COMPARED.

"The painters of the Roman school were the best* designers, and had more of the antique taste in their works than any of the others, but generally they were not good colorists. Those of Florence were good designers, and had a kind of greatness, but it was not antique. The Venetian and Lombard schools had excellent colorists, and a certain grace, but entirely modern, especially those of Venice; but their drawing was generally incorrect, and their knowledge in history and the antique very little. And the Bolognese school of the Caracci is a sort of composition of the others; even Annibal himself

possessed not any part of painting in the perfection which is to be seen in those from whom his manner is composed, though, to make amends, he possessed more parts than perhaps any other master, and all in a very high degree. The works of those of the German school have a dryness and ungraceful stiffness, not unlike what is seen amongst the old Florentines. The Flemings were good colorists, and imitated nature as they conceived it—that is, instead of raising nature, they fell below it, though not so much as the Germans, nor in the same manner. Rubens himself lived and died a Fleming, though he would fain have been an Italian; but his imitators have caricatured his manner-that is, they have been more Rubens in his defects than he himself was, but without his excellencies. The French, excepting some few of them (N. Poussin, Le Sueur, Sebastian Bourdon), as they have not the German stiffness nor the Flemish ungracefulness, neither have they the Italian solidity; and in their airs of heads and manners they are easily distinguished from the antique, how much soever they may have endeavored to imitate it."-Richardson.

THE OLD MASTERS.

"The duration and stability of the fame of the old masters of painting is sufficient to evince that it has not been suspended upon the slender thread of fashion and caprice, but bound to the human heart by every chord of sympathetic approbation."-Sir J. Reynolds.

PRICES OF GALLERIES.

The prices given for the three great collections of paintings sold in England within the last century, may perhaps not be uninteresting. The Houghton gallery, of two hundred and thirty-two pictures, collected by Sir Robert Walpole, was sold to the Empress Catharine of Russia for £43,500. The Orleans gallery of two hundred and ninety-six pictures was sold in London, in 1798, for £43,555; and the Angerstein collection of thirty-eight pictures was bought by the British government, in 1823, for £57,000. This last purchase was the commencement of the English National Gallery.

LOVE MAKES A PAINTER.

Quintin Matsys, called the Blacksmith of Antwerp, was bred up to the trade of a blacksmith or farrier, which business he followed till he was twenty years of age, when, according to Lampsonius, his love for a blue-eyed lass, whose cruel father, an artist, refused her hand to any one but a painter, caused him to abandon his devotion to Vulcan, and inspired him with the ambition to become a worshipper at the shrine of the Muses. He possessed uncommon talents and genius, applied himself with great assiduity, and in a short time produced pictures that gave promise of the highest excellence, and gained him the fair hand for which he sighed. The inscription on the monument erected to his memory in the Cathedral of Notre Dame, at Antwerp, re

cords in a few expressive words the singular story

of his life:

"Connubialis amor de Mulcibre fecit Apellem."

JOHN WESLEY JARVIS.

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Jarvis, though a wayward and eccentric man, unfortunately for himself and the world too much giv en to strong potations, was a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy," whose "gambols, songs, and flashes of merriment were wont to set the table on a roar. He was a merry wag, and an inimitable story-teller and mimic. Some of his stories were dramatized by Dunlap, Hackett, and Matthews, the best of which is the laughable farce of Monsieur Mallet. Dunlap says, "Another story which Matthews dressed up for John Bull, originated with Jarvis. From a friend I have what I suppose to be the original scene. My friend was passing the painter's room, when he suddenly threw up the window, and called him in, saying, 'I have something for your criticism, that you will be pleased with.' He entered, expecting to see a picture, or some other specimen of the fine arts, but nothing of the kind was produced-he was, however, intrcduced with a great deal of ceremony, to Monsieur B——, ' celebrated for his accurate knowledge of the English language, and intimate critical acquaintance with its poetry-particularly Shakspeare.' Mr. AA——, as I shall call my friend, began to understand Jarvis' object in calling him in. After a lit

tle preliminary conversation, Jarvis said, 'I hope, Monsieur B- —, you still retain your love of the drama ?' 'O certainly, sir, wid my life I renounce it.' 'Mr. Adid you ever hear Monsieur recite ?' 'Never.' 'Your recitations from Racine, Monsieur B, will you oblige us?'

"The polite and vain Frenchman was easily prevailed upon to roll out several long speeches, from Racine and Corneille, with much gesticulation and many a well-rounded R. This was only to introduce the main subject of entertainment. 'Monsieur B is not only remarkable, as you hear, for his very extraordinary recitations from the poets of his native land, but for his perfect conquest over the difficulties of the English language, in the most dif ficult of all our poets-Shakspeare. He has studied Hamlet and Macbeth thoroughly-and if he would oblige us-do, Monsieur B-, do give us, "To be, or not to be." 'Sur, the language is too difficult I make great efforts to be sure, but still the foreigner is to be detected.' This gentleman's peculiarities were in extreme precision and double efforts with the th and the other shibboleths of English. The unsuspecting and vain man is soon induced to give Hamlet's soliloquy, the th forced out as from a pop-gun, and some of the words irresistibly comic. But, Monsieur B-, you are par ticularly great in Macbeth-that "if it were done, when it is done," and "peep through the blanket,"

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come, let us have Macbeth.' Then followed

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