to portraits, a branch of art in which the moderns scarcely reach the standard of their predecessors. However, the rich products of the pencil in the nineteenth century surpass, in most other respects, those of the previous period. Stimulated by the growing appetite of the community for art, accompanied by an extraordinary increase of the purchasing power, the painter of modern days has invented new methods, employed the science of chemistry to improve his colours, and cultivated fresh fields in choosing subjects for the easel. The foreign schools have likewise developed considerable activity, and many of their professors exhibit a dexterity of handling, a correctness of drawing, and a finish which command unqualified admiration. Yet, with these painters, as with us, high art is in some sort eclipsed by general subjects, and, especially amongst the French, by such as are connected with battles and victories.

As to the predominant taste of the English in matters of art, it would puzzle the most attentive observer to characterize it suitably; so multiform are the fruits of the pencil in our day. I will venture, nevertheless, to employ one epithet, (which indeed seems applicable to modern feeling in general,) and say that it inclines to the realistic in art. Even in pictures of a religious class, we may observe how far this element has superseded the ideal and the pathetic. Pious ecstasies, eloquent agonies, are no longer in demand; the sober Protestant form of faith, conjoined with amiable and homely forms of sympathy-domestic incidents and every-day interests such are the subjects which command the attention and ensure the gaze of "the multitude," rich and poor, of our time. And these predominate through the range of modern artistic productions, reflecting indeed very correctly the tone

in which popular serial literature has, for some ten or twenty years back, been composed.

"The applause of the exquisite few," said Wilkie, in one of his published letters, "is better than that of the ignorant many. But I like to reverse received maxims. Give me the many who have admired, in different ages, Raffaelle and Claude." On which passage, Mr. Leslie, in his own memoirs, published in 1860, comments thus:-" But have the many, in any age, admired Raffaelle and Claude? I certainly believe not." And again, Leslie remarks that, "Wilkie's works were popular from the first, because the public could understand his subjects, and natural expression is always responded to. But the beauty of his composition, the truth of his effects,' the taste of his execution, were no more felt by the multitude than such qualities are felt in any class of painting, by any but those whose perceptions of art are cultivated. . . . An artist must belong to the multitude to please the multitude."

In these remarks I own I am disposed to concur, whilst guarding myself against being supposed to disparage the taste of "the multitude." It is certainly a most pleasing circumstance that so large a portion of our countrymen and countrywomen should indulge a liking for art. Nevertheless, a faculty of nicely discriminating between true and false greatness in painters can only, in my judgment, be exercised by a comparatively small class amongst us-composed of individuals who possess leisure, opportunities of travel and of study, aptitude for observation and comparison, and a natural disposition to derive enjoyment from the contemplation of objects of art. On them the duty rests of upholding the eternal principles on which true art is based. English

amateurs—from Royalty downwards to the merchant-have always fostered the arts; not alone encouraging living artists, but coming forward, with alacrity, to possess themselves of really valuable specimens of bygone times, when offered, at intervals, in the market. And the English Government also displays unremitting zeal in the acquisition of works calculated to encourage the public to interest themselves in the higher excellences of painting. It would be matter of real gratification to feel that these could be exemplified in the performances of modern professors. Let us hope that such will be forthcoming at no distant day.

The very narrow space into which it has been requisite to compress this sketch, precludes the addition of farther remarks suggested by the actual condition of art, and the influence of opinion bearing upon it in this country. I must content myself with saying that if, indeed, "the many" now form the bulk of the purchasing class, and bestow the widest fame upon professors of art, it may safely be added that never were "the many" so well served as now. For every variety of taste, a painter brings the supply; (often, indeed, creating it ;) yet the teeming abundance of artistic talent-diffusing itself, as it does, along countless channels, and offering meritorious and attractive works in all styles,--seems destined, in some degree, to supplant the cultivation of the noble and elevated type. If each period of history bears its characteristic stamp, surely in none has the impress of contemporary feeling and thought been more discernible than in the art, and I must permit myself to add, the literature of fiction, of our own era.

It may be fairly presumed, I think, that the important step taken in a high quarter, within these few years, to improve the means of art education among the people, was owing to

a perception of the tendencies above indicated. To furnish to the humble youthful student, gratuitously, assistance in forming a taste for the higher attributes of art, and, next, in carrying even into the material products of the country some traces of their refining influence, was, indeed, a project dictated by a discerning comprehension of the value of sound elementary study. The foundation of the South Kensington Museum, due in great part to the Prince Consort's agency, may, it is to be hoped, operate as a counterpoise to the causes which for some considerable period would seem to have modified and, in a measure, vulgarized the character of British Art. That relish for striking effect, both of colour and expression, for exquisitely high-wrought finish, and for melo-dramatic composition, which now pervades the community, may possibly be one day superseded by a preference for loftier qualities in painting. Should such a change arrive, we may safely ascribe much of it to the salutary, the instructive, study of the masterpieces of all kinds and all countries, ancient and modern, which are to be seen in our principal national depositories: accompanied and seconded by the lessons of competent professors under the direction of the managers of the Kensington Museum, working in harmony with the great schools of the Royal Academy.

August, 1861.

The Sailor Boy.

E rose at dawn and flushed with hope
Shot o'er the seething harbour-bar,
And reached the ship and caught the rope,
And whistled to the morning star.
And while on deck he whistled loud

He heard a fierce mermaiden cry,

"Boy, though thou art young and proud, I see the place where thou wilt lie. The sands and yeasty surges mix

In caves about the dreary bay;

And on thy ribs the limpet sticks,

And in thy heart the scrawl shall play!"

"Fool!" he answer'd, "Death is sure

To those that stay and those that roam :

But I will never more endure

To sit with empty hands at home.