vid, I have called to have my portrait taken by the illustrious painter of Leonidas at Thermopyla." David, eyeing fiercely the man who had humbled his country, and dethroned her Emperor, replied, "Sir, I cannot paint the English."

DAVID AND THE CARDINAL CAPRARA,

David introduced the Cardinal Caprara, as the Pope's legate, into the picture of the Coronation of Napoleon, without his wig. The likeness was exact, and the Cardinal remonstrated with David on the omission, desiring him to supply it. The painter replied that he never had, and never would paint a wig. The Cardinal then applied to the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and represented that as no pope had hitherto worn a wig, it might seem as if he (Caprara) had purposely left his own off, to show his pretensions to the tiara. David however stood firm as a rock, even before Talleyrand, and said, "his Eminence may think himself lucky that nothing but his wig has been taken off."

DAVID AT BRUSSELS.

David, then advanced in years, severely felt his exile at Brussels. He lived very retired, saw little company, and seldom went abroad. It is related that Talma, during a professional engagement at Brussels, got up the tragedy of Leonidas, expressly to gratify his old friend, and invited him to the theatre to see the performance. David consented to go,

but told Talma he must pardon him if he should happen to nod. As soon as David was recognized in the theatre, the whole house rose en masse, and gave three hearty cheers for the illustrious exile, which so affected him that he burst into tears. When the performance commenced, so far from giving way to sleep, he became completely absorbed in the interest of the play, and when the curtain dropped, he exclaimed, "Heavens! how glorious it is to possess such a talent.”

PIERRE MIGNARD.

There have been found occasionally some artists, who could so perfectly imitate the spirit, the taste, the character, and the peculiarities of great masters, that they have not unfrequently deceived the most skillful connoisseurs.

An anecdote of Pierre Mignard is singular. This great artist painted a Magdalen on a canvass fabricated at Rome. A broker in concert with him, went to the Chevalier de Clairville, and told him as a secret, that he was to receive from Italy a Magdalen of Guido, and one of his masterpieces. The Chevalier caught the bait, begged the preference, and purchased the picture at a very high price. Some time afterwards, he was informed that he had been imposed upon, for that the Magdalen was painted by Mignard. Although Mignard himself caused the alarm to be given, the amateur would not believe it; all the connoisseurs agreed it was a

"I

Guido, and the famous Le Brun corroborated this opinion. The Chevalier came to Mignard; "There are," said he, "some persons who assure me that my Magdalen is your work." "Mine!" replied Mignard; "they do me great honor. I am sure that Le Brun is not of that opinion." "Le Brun swears it can be no other than a Guido," said the Chevalier; "you shall dine with me, and meet several of the first connoisseurs." On the day of meeting, the picture was more closely inspected than ever. Mignard hinted his doubts whether the piece was the work by Guido; he insinuated that it was possible to be deceived, and added that, if it was Guido's, he did not think it in his best manner. am perfectly convinced that it is a Guido, sir, and in his very best manner," replied Le Brun, with warmth; and all the critics unanimously agreed with him. Mignard then said, in a firm tone of voice, " And I, gentlemen, will wager three hundred louis that it is not a Guido." The dispute now became violent-Le Brun was desirous of accepting the wager. In a word, the affair became such as could add nothing more to the glory of Mignard. No, sir," replied the latter; "I am too honest to bet, when I am certain to win. Monsieur le Chevalier, this piece cost you two thousand crowns; the money must be returned-the painting is by my hand." Le Brun would not believe it. "The proof," continued Mignard, "is easy; on this

canvass, which is a Roman one, was the portrait of a Cardinal; I will show you his cap."

The Chevalier did not know which of the rival artists to believe; the proposition alarmed him. "He who painted the picture shall mend it," said Mignard; and taking a pencil dipped in spirits, and rubbing the hair of the Magdalen, he soon discovered the cap of the Cardinal. The honor of the ingenious painter could no longer be disputed.

SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.

This eminent painter was born at Plympton, in Devonshire, in 1723. He was the son of the Rev. Samuel Reynolds, who intended him for the medical profession; but his natural taste and genius for painting, induced his father to send him to London to study painting under Hudson, when he was seventeen years of age. In 1749, he accompanied Captain, afterwards Lord Keppel to the Mediterranean, and passed about three years in Italy. On his return to England, he established himself in London, where he soon acquired a distinguished reputation, and rose to be esteemed the head of the English school of painting. At the formation of the Royal Academy in 1768, he was elected president, and received the honor of knighthood. In 1781 he visited Holland and the Netherlands to examine the productions of the Dutch and Flemish masters, by which he is said to have improved his coloring. In 1784, on the death of Ramsay, he was appointed

principal painter to the King. He died in 1792, and his remains were deposited in the crypt of St. Paul's cathedral, near the tomb of Sir Christopher Wren. He formed a splendid collection of works of art, which, after his death, brought at public sale about £17,000; and the whole of his property amounted to about £80,000, the bulk of which he left to his niece, who married Lord Inchiquin, afterwards Marquis of Thomond. He never married, but his sister Frances Reynolds conducted his domestic affairs. He was fond of the society of literary men, kept open house, and seldom dined without his table being graced by the presence of some of the chosen spirits of the land. He was simple and unostentatious in his habits, and affable in his deportment; and while his table was abundantly supplied, there was an absence of all ceremony, and each guest was made to feel himself perfectly at home, which gave a delightful zest to his hospitality.

REYNOLDS' NEW STYLE.

Soon after Reynolds' return to England from Italy, in 1752, he commenced his professional career in St. Martin's Lane, London. He found such opposition as genius is commonly doomed to encounter, and does not always overcome. The boldness of his attempts, and the brilliancy of his coloring, were considered innovations upon the established and orthodox system of portrait manufacture, in the styles of Lely and Kneller. The old artists first raised their voices.