either in these letters or in our own criticism, we trust the writers will excuse their non-insertion.] : EXHIBITION OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY. THE Exhibition of the Royal Academy is a fearful ordeal for mediocrity; as, among the numerous works exhibited by the best of our artists, so many of the highest order are produced, as to throw into shade the works of all those who have not attained the same practical skill, or who do not possess equal powers of perception. The annual exhibitions may truly be characterized as annual triumphs of art they are also subjects of national pride and congratulation, when we see, in the midst of conflicting parties and the agitation of some of the most important questions in the well-being of a state, that the people (for we exonerate the Government and the Aristocracy from any such honourable distinction,) are not altogether neglectful of those arts which civilize the manners and improve the morals of a nation, while they add to its most permanent glory and its surest means of prosperity. The influence they possess is not the less beneficial for being almost unseen and unfelt; the most powerful streams are often the gentlest; and the dews and showers of Heaven are to the arts of peace what the hurricane and the thunder-cloud are to the collisions of parties in the state. There is not to our mind a more gratifying sight than the well-filled rooms of the Academy; for it is impossible for those multitudes to retire to their own homes without a store of new ideas, which, almost unknown to themselves, must have a most important effect upon their future thoughts and actions. Compared with such a refined mental enjoyment, the ball-room and the concert sink into the most sensual gratifications; as from them no new ideas can be obtained for the purpose of improving the mind, and we fear no probable chance of improving the morals. It is our pride, on the contrary, to lead the public to innocent pleasures, which will increase with increasing years, and be a solace to the last. To complete the gratification of the critic, however, we ought, in walking round the room, to have the company of each artist while examining his performance, so as to have the benefit of his own unreserved explanation of the objects he had in view, and the means by which he sought to obtain them. Without knowing those objects, we may perhaps often blame a painting for the very reason why blame should not be incurred, because the artist had in experiment attempted to attain a certain effect by certain means inconsistent with what the critic might please to cavil at. The means which Titian employed to give that magical tone to his works which all ages must view with admiration, have baffled all inquirers to ascertain; and even the illustrious Reynolds, who destroyed many of those works in a vain attempt to obtain the information by analysis, has also left us in a great measure ignorant of his practice of the art. The greatest painters have generally been the greatest experimentalists; for it is not in the nature of a great genius to submit to follow in dull routine, when new roads to excellence may be struck out. With what continually fresh delight do we contemplate the new combinations of Turner, his bold disregard of everyday rules and maxims, and his daring (apparent) inconsistencies of colour. Yet if they answer the purpose of the art by eliciting delight and commanding the approbation of taste, what greater success can be sought to be achieved? Of the six pictures he exhibits this year, two are marine views; viz. (206) Van Tromp's Shallop at the Entrance of the Scheldt', and (284) Helvoetsluys,-the City of Utrecht, 64, going to Sea'; to which may be added two others, (153) The Prince of Orange, William III. embarked from Holland and landed at Torbay, Nov. 4th, 1688, after a stormy Passage', and (453) Staffa, Fingal's Cave'. The bare enumeration of the names of these will convey to the reader who knows Mr. Turner's style, as good an idea as any description we could detail; and for those of our readers who have not that advantage, it would be vain to attempt it. They must perforce abandon their fastnesses, even if they be as far north as Inverness, and give their days to the contemplation of works, beyond which art never did go, and which we may therefore perhaps truly say cannot go. The others are, (355) Nebuchadnezzar came near to the mouth of the burning fiery furnace, and said, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, come forth and come hither", and (70) Childe Harold's Pilgrimage,-— Italy'. The former is one of those extraordinary flights in which Mr. Turner is so often so fond of indulging, to the astonishment and unfeigned delight of one half of the world of art, and the astonishment and self-conceited supercilious remarks of the other. These attempt to conceal their inferiority from themselves by dwelling on and exaggerating the faults of acknowledged genius; while the others love to see new effects and new combinations produced, to create interest in the success of the experiment. The figures are almost unintelligible-they flit before us, as they ought to do, in a superhuman manner; but to our mind it is impossible to conceive a finer effect of 66 lurid light than is here portrayed. The picture is a small one, about two feet by two and a half: we should delight to see it attempted on a larger scale, believing it would be a great trial even to Mr. Turner's powers to give a large finished picture of what would, if successful, be a truly wonderful performance. The other, Italy,' which is about four feet and a half by three and a half, is an extensive champaign,— shepherds dancing in the foreground, and boundless hills in the distance; -we say boundless, for it is one of Mr. Turner's greatest characteristics to give the effect of space, in which, among modern painters at least, he stands pre-eminent. To it he has attached the iines from Childe Harold, Canto iv. : and now, fair Italy! Thou art the garden of the world. Even in thy desert what is like to thee? With an immaculate charm which cannot be defaced." And certainly the picture of the poet is not more rich and glowing than this of the artist;-the hypercritic might say too much so, that it is a blaze of king's-yellow and chrome, and that the sky is cold in comparison, and does not harmonize with the scene below. It may be so, but time must decide on the judgment of the painter; and we, for our parts, will not undertake to prophesy that the one may not be mellowed and softened down in the course of a few years, to make the next generation marvel at our coldness in the appreciation of such a work. After this, we must at once turn to the picture which, as most intelligible to the uninitiated, as it is admired by those cognoscent of art, receives the long, undivided observation of all,—Mr. Wilkie's 'Knox preaching before the Lords of the Congregation, 10th June 1559' (134). To say that this is the finest picture Mr. Wilkie ever painted, high as would be the encomium, still would be too little; we should do wrong to say less than that it is the finest ever painted by any one in the peculiar line of art which it aims at. It is nearly about the same size as Mr. Turner's 'Italy', and is intended for Sir Robert Peel's gallery. The scene is described in the catalogue, whence we will venture to transcribe it: "In Dr. M'Crie's Life of this extraordinary person is described the event this picture is intended to represent, which took place during the regency of Mary of Guise, in the parish church of St. Andrews in Fifeshire, where John Knox, having just arrived from Geneva, after an exile of thirteen years, in defiance of a threat of assassination, and while an army in the field was watching the proceedings of his party, appeared in the pulpit and discoursed to a numerous assembly, including many of the clergy; when such was the influence of his doctrine, that the provost, bailies, and inhabitants harmoniously agreed to set up the reformed worship in the town. The church was stripped of all images and pictures, and the monasteries were pulled down. "Close to the pulpit, on the right of Knox, are Richard Ballenden, his amanuensis, with Christopher Goodman, his colleague; and, in black, the Knight Templar, Sir James Sandilands, in whose house at Calder the first Protestant sacrament was received. Beyond the latter, in the scholar's cap and gown, is that accomplished student of St. Andrews, the Admirable Crichton. Under the pulpit is Thomas Wood, the precentor, with his hour-glass; the school-boy below is John Napier, Baron of Merchiston, inventor of the logarithms; and further to the right is a child which has been brought to be baptized when the discourse is over. "On the other side of the picture, in red, is the Lord James Stuart, afterwards Regent Murray; beyond, is the Earl of Glencairne; and in the front, resting on his sword, is the Earl of Morton; behind whom is the Earl of Argyll, whose Countess, the half-sister of Queen Mary, and the lady in attendance upon her, make up the chief light of the picture. Above this group is John Hamilton, Archbishop of St. Andrews, supported by the Bishop Beatoun, of Glasgow, with Quintus Kennedy, the Abbot of Cross Raguel, who maintained against Knox a fierce disputation. "In the gallery is Sir Patrick Learmouth, Provost of St. Andrews and Laird of Dairsie, and with him two of the bailies. The boy on their left is Andrew Melville, successor of Knox; and beyond him, with other Professors of the University of St. Andrews, is the learned Buchanan; at the back of the gallery a crucifix, attracting the regard of Catholic penitents; and in the obscurity above is an escutcheon to the memory of Cardinal Beaton." This scene, it will be observed, is not only striking in itself, but has all the interest attached to it, by the genius of the painter, which the association of historical names and events could add to it. The figure of Knox in the pulpit is nobly conceived, in the energetic attitude of what was finely observed by Mr. Grattan of Dr. Kirwan, “shaking one world with the thunders of another." He is bent down as if giving expression to the idea of sweeping away the abominations from the land, and the whole figure is commanding in the extreme, yet so becoming as to make us forget the violence of the action in the becoming power which accompanies it. The preacher is represented in his Geneva cap; and his black dress, as well as his attitude, conveys the idea which has been applied to it by a writer in the Spectator," of an Eagle swooping over his prey." The effect which he produces upon his audience is one of the means which the artist has artfully and admirably used to soften down the violence of his attitude, in the gradation of emotion, from the enthusiasm of some of his followers to the half-kindled fervour, half terror of the ladies, which again mingles with the more quiet approbation of some other parts of the audience, till it settles on the inattentive absorption of the Catholic devotees on the one side, and the more quiet demeanour of the Abbot on the other, who is only storing up in his mind subjects for disputation. Great as was Mr. Wilkie's fame, this picture is well calculated to place it even higher, as it is undoubtedly a work demanding our utmost admiration. It is quite sufficient for Mr. Wilkie's fame to have given us this work only; and he has but one other picture in the Exhibition,-a Portrait (full length) of His Majesty. This, however, though painted with that masterly ability which characterizes every production of his, is not, we think, so worthy of his fame. As a likeness, we think it not so good as Sir William Beechey's, also exhibited this year (No. 197), and it is besides encumbered with a cuirassier's breast-plate, which is not quite in character with the subject, or the royal robes, and so far not strictly in good taste. Sir W. Beechey has five portraits, His Majesty', 'Viscount Hood', Viscountess Hood', 'S. B. Mash, Esq.', and 'Dr. Ashburne'. The last especially is characterized with great strength of expression, and all are admirable likenesses. Sir William's name is first observed in the Catalogues of the Royal Academy in the year 1776, and since that period, now fifty-six years, we believe not an Exhibition has passed over without some contribution from his indefatigable pencil; even now, the worthy knight perseveres with almost more than the ardour of youthful enthusiasm, bent on the pursuit of art, and with undi. minished delight and zeal furthering the interests of those who seek fame in the same path. In portraiture Sir William has been eminently successful, and especially in the delineation of female loveliness. In his fancy subjects for the representation of infantine innocence and beauty, without the least blot of that meretriciousness into which our painters, following the evil example of the late President, have been so apt to fall, we consider him unrivalled. The studio of Sir William is one of the most delightful resorts for the lover of art; the sincerity, as well as urbanity, of the old school, is so well joined with the best qualities of the modern, that we cannot but express our ardent hope that the profession may yet long be graced with so true a specimen of a zealous painter and an English gentleman. Mr. Leslie, as well as Mr. Wilkie, has only sent two pictures, but they are two right worthy of his fame and that of the British School. No. 140 is a Scene from the Taming of the Shrew': "Petruchio.-Brav'd in mine own house with a skein of thread! Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant: Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard, |