Chapter 2

8. On the accurate observation of _distances_ the beauty of landscape depends; be careful therefore to get them correct at your outset, and to keep them so, by shading lightly with pen or brush your black-lead sketch, (should the parts be complicated,) whilst the view is before you, or fresh in your memory.

9. The hand should be accustomed to the touch of various kinds of trees, though in a mere _sketch_, little variety is required; the distinction, however, between full foliaged, and straggling, branchy trees must be preserved, for both are necessary even in a sketch, and the artist should therefore be prepared to represent them.

10. The artist must attend to the composition, and the disposition of his subject. By the _composition_ may be understood the objects with which he composes his view; by the _disposition_, their picturesque and tasteful arrangement.

11. Figures, must be such as are appropriate to the scene; thus, history in miniature is bad, because a landscape is in itself a subject sufficient for the employment both of pencil and eye; therefore historical figures in a view, are lost and out of place.

12. Birds may be introduced with good effect, if thrown into proper distance; to represent them _near_ is absurd: ruins and sea views are the best subjects in which they can appear.

13. _Effect_ is to be produced best, by strong contrasts of _light_ and _shade_ both in earth and sky; but the student's taste must determine where these shall fall, and though the contrasts should be strong, yet _gradation_, in both, must be observed.

14. A predominancy of _shade_ has the best effect; and light, though it should not be scattered, must not be drawn, as it were, into one focus.

15. The light, in a picture, is best disposed when the fore-ground is in shadow, and it falls in the middle; but this rule is subject to many variations. Light should rarely be spread on the distance.[5]

[Footnote 5: Extraordinary and beautiful effects, however, are, by superior painters, frequently produced by violating this latter rule. The writer would particularly notice the results of light thrown into the distance, in stormy sea-views.]

16. It is useful to know, that the shadows of morning are darker than those of evening; also, that when objects are in _shadow_, their light (as it is then a reflected light,) falls on the opposite side to that on which it would come if they were enlightened.

17. The _harmony_ of the whole should be studied; if the piece strikes you as defective in this respect, place it at evening in some situation where it will not be reached by a strong light, when the misplaced lights and shadows will strike you more forcibly than in the glare of day.

18. To stain your paper with a slight reddish or yellowish tint, adds to the harmony of a sketch, yet it is a mere matter of taste; but, when it is desired, it had better be done after the drawing is completed, otherwise the colour risks looking patched from the rubber.[6]

[Footnote 6: Coffee has been recommended for this purpose, but delicate and pleasing washes or glazings may be produced from burnt sienna, yellow ochre, burnt umbre, and lake, in various combinations, and laid on extremely attenuated by water.]

19. In _colouring_, the _sky_ gives the _ruling tint_ to the landscape; it is absurd to unite a noonday sky, with a landscape of sunset glow.

20. From the three virgin colours, red, blue, and yellow, all the tints of nature are composed.[7] There is not in nature a perfect white, except snow, and the petals of some flowers.

[Footnote 7: The artist, however, cannot produce _his_ tints from those simple colours _entirely_, but the advice once given to the writer, by a painter, was:--"Never fancy that _many_ colours will effect your object; a _few_ well chosen will better succeed, and be more easily managed; half-a-dozen would, for _me_, answer every purpose." The student is warned against _gaudy colouring_, which, if allowable in _caricatures_ seen _elsewhere_, reminds one of pedlar's pictures.]

21. Sketch nothing but what you can _adorn_, (for the purpose of showing to friends, &c.) but do not adorn your first, or _rough_ sketch; _make another_, and refer to your _original_ draught, as you would do to the view itself, for it contains your _general ideas_--your first and freshest, which may be lost by endeavouring to refine and improve upon them in the original sketch.[8]

[Footnote 8: The old masters are well known to have made carefully _many_ sketches of the subjects they designed for pictures, ere they dreamt of painting compositions that were to last for ever.]

22. In adorning your sketch, figures, both animate and inanimate, may be introduced, but _sparingly_; touch them slightly, for an attempt at _finish_ offends.

I shall take the liberty of adding--endeavour to get a free and flowing outline; be not too minute either in detail or finishing; use pen or brush for your _rough_ sketch in preference to pencil; you will gain confidence, and _correctness_ will be your aim in your _adorned_ copy. Finally, study nature, art, and good writers.

M.L.B.

* * * * *

FINE ARTS.

(_To the Editor of the Mirror._)

Sir,--I have made repeated visits this season to the exhibition of the works of the old masters at the _British Institution_, for the express purpose of presenting you with _a few remarks_ on some of the most excellent paintings. As I have strictly adhered to the notes which I made at the institution, the accuracy of the subjoined may be depended upon:--

BRITISH INSTITUTION.

The present exhibition consists of the works of the Italian, Spanish, Flemish, and Dutch masters. There are one hundred and ninety pictures, which have chiefly been contributed to the institution by his Majesty and the nobility.

No. 5, _Innocent the Tenth_, by Velasquez, is an uncommon fine portrait; it is very boldly executed, combining at the same time a sufficient degree of finish and great beauty of colour. His holiness is represented in quite a plain habit. The beauties of Guido's pencil will be traced in No. 6, _Hippomenes and Atalanta_. Claude, in his _Embarkation of St. Paul; Sea Port, Evening, &c._, charms us with his exquisite effects, which are so truly natural, that, while we view his representations, we may almost fancy ourselves transported to the magnificent scenery of Italy. In No. 42, _Titian's Daughter_, are seen the genuine tints adopted by the Venetian school of painting. No. 56, _St. Appolonia_, by Sebastian del Piombo, is a most admirable specimen of the master. No. 74, _Landscape and Cattle_, by Paul Potter, contains all that beauty of touch and delicacy of colour which render this famous artist so difficult to imitate. There are several very capital pictures by the younger Teniers; No. 77, _his own portrait_, and No. 95, _portrait of the painter and his son_, are truly excellent; as is No. 94, _Figures playing at Bowls_. A remarkable and very forcible effect is found in No. 93, _The outside of a House with Figures_--painted by De Hooge. Nos. 121 and 123, _Flowers and Fruit_, by the celebrated Van Huysum, are extremely elaborate in their execution. No. 161, _The Battle between Constantine and Maxentius_, is a sketch by Rubens, possessing wonderful fire and spirit, as well as great mellowness of colour.

Besides the above pictures, there are many beautiful productions by Jan Steen, Cuyp, Poussin, Salvator Rosa, Guercino, Domenichino, Murillo, Albano, Vandyke, Ruysdael, Houdekoeter, Wouvermans, &c.

G.W.N.

* * * * *

ANCIENT ROMAN FESTIVALS.

* * * * *

JULY.

The _Caprotinia_, or feasts of Juno Caprotina, were celebrated on the 9th of July, in favour of the female slaves. During this solemnity they ran about, beating themselves with their fists and with rods. None but women assisted in the sacrifices offered at this feast. Kennet says, the origin of this feast, or the famous _Nonae Caprotinae_, or _Poplifugium_, is doubly related by Plutarch, according to the two common opinions. First, because Romulus disappeared on that day, when an assembly being held in the _Palus Capreae_, or _Goats'-Marsh_, on a sudden happened a most wonderful tempest, accompanied with terrible thunder, and other unusual disorders in the air. The common people fled all away to secure themselves; but, after the tempest was over, could never find their king. Or, else, from _Caprificus_, a wild fig-tree, because, in the Gallic war, a Roman virgin, who was prisoner in the enemy's camp, got up into a wild fig-tree, and holding out a lighted torch toward the city, gave the Romans a signal to fall on; which they did with such good success, as to obtain a considerable victory.

The _Lucaria_ was an ancient feast, solemnized in the woods, where the Romans, defeated and pursued by the Gauls, retired and concealed themselves; it was held, on the 19th of July, in a wood, between the Tyber and the road called Via Salaria.

The feast of _Neptunalia_ was held on the 23rd of July, in honour of Neptune.

The _Furinalia_ were feasts instituted in honour of _Furina_, the goddess of robbers among the Romans; they took place on the 25th of July. This goddess had a temple at Rome, and was served by a particular priest, who was one of the fifteen Flamens.[9] Near the temple there was a sacred wood, in which Caius Gracchus was killed. Cicero takes her to be the same as one of the Furies.

[Footnote 9: Flamen, among the ancient Romans, was a priest or minister of sacrifice.]

P.T.W.

* * * * *

NOTES OF A READER.

* * * * *

CAPTAIN POPANILLA'S VOYAGE.

Who has not read _Vivian Grey_, in five broad-margined volumes, with space enough between each line to allow the indulgence of a nap, when the poppy of the author predominated? Affectation, foppery, and conceit, have protracted the memoirs of this renowned personage to such an extent; but in spite of all that unfashionable critics have said, Vivian Grey has just produced a volume under the title of the Voyage of _Captain Popanilla_, with as much of the aforesaid qualities as the most listless drawing-room or boudoir reader could require. Nevertheless, "the voyage" has many touches of wit, humour, and caustic satire, and it has the soul and characteristic of wit--_brevity_; for we read the volume in little more than an hour; and, although Vivian may regard our analysis of his voyage like showing the sun with a lantern, we are disposed to venture upon the task for the gratification of our readers.

To say that Popanilla resembles Swift's "Tale of a Tub," or Sir Thomas More's "Utopia," would be an advantageous comparison for our modern _voyager_, but it would not sufficiently illustrate the character of his work, since the latter books are so much less read than talked of. Swift wrote "for the universal improvement of mankind," but Popanilla publishes for the benefit of the people of England, whom he represents as living in a too artificial state. He tells his story as the native of an Indian isle, whose men combine "the vivacity of a faun with the strength of a Hercules, and the beauty of an Adonis," and whose women "magically sprung from the brilliant foam of that ocean, which is gradually subsiding before them." This favoured spot he calls the _Isle of Fantaisie_, about the shores of which appears a remarkable fish, or rather a ship, to the no small terror of the islanders. The ship is wrecked, and Popanilla "having in his fright, during the storm, lost a lock of hair which, in a moment of glorious favour, he had ravished from his fair mistress' brow," is next introduced in search of this precious _bijou_. "The favourite of all the women, the envy of all the men, &c. &c, and--you know the rest,--Popanilla passed an extremely pleasant life. No one was a better judge of wine--no one had a better taste for fruit--no one danced with more elegant vivacity--and no one whispered compliments in a more meaning tone. What a pity that such an amiable fellow should have got into such a scrape!"

Instead of the dear lock, Popanilla finds a chest saved from the wreck, and filled with "Useful Knowledge Tracts," books on "the Hamiltonian system," &c. which our adventurer, like Faustus and his bible, turns to bad account; he falls asleep, is swallowed by a whale, and spouted forth again. "The dreamer awoke amidst real chattering, and scuffling, and clamour. A troop of green monkeys had been aroused by his unusual occupation, and had taken the opportunity of his slumber to become acquainted with some of the first principles of science. What progress they had made it is difficult to ascertain. It is said, however, that some monkeys have been since seen skipping about the island, with their tails cut off; and that they have even succeeded in passing themselves for human beings among those people who do not read novels, and are consequently unacquainted with mankind. As for Popanilla, he took up a treatise on hydrostatics, and read it straight through on the spot. For the rest of the day he was hydrostatically mad; nor could the commonest incident connected with the action or conveyance of water take place, without his speculating on its cause and consequence." So much for the first steps of "intellect;" now for the "march." Popanilla soon becomes a man of science: his wit flies off in tangents, and he tries to prove his sovereign a lantern, and himself a sun,[10] by undertaking to re-shape all the institutions of Fantaisie. Then follow a string of dogmas about utility, &c.; and man being a _developing animal_, till he decides that "there is no such thing as Nature; Nature is Art, or Art is Nature; that which is most useful is most natural, because utility is the test of Nature; therefore, a steam-engine is in fact a much more natural production than a mountain." Here, observing a smile upon his majesty's countenance, Popanilla tells the king that he is only a chief magistrate, and he has no more right to laugh at him than a constable. This is "too bad" for the royal mind; Popanilla is cut; rather crest-fallen, he sneaks home, and consoles himself for having nobody to speak to, by reading some very amusing "Conversations on Political Economy." But he sinks to rise again. He obtains many pupils, who had no sooner mastered the first principles of science, than they began to throw off their retired habits and uncommunicative manners. "Being not utterly ignorant of some of the rudiments of knowledge, and consequently having completed their education, it was now their duty, as members of society, to instruct and not to study; and on all occasions they seized opportunities of assisting the spread of knowledge. The voices of boys lecturing upon every lecturable topic, resounded in every part of the island. Their tones were so shrill, their manners so presuming, their knowledge so crude, and their general demeanour so completely unamiable, that it was impossible to hear them without the greatest, delight, advantage, and admiration." The king at last becomes impregnated with the liberal spirit of the age; Popanilla is "sent for" to court; he is overpowered with promotion, told that "with the aid of a treatise or two," he will make "a consummate naval commander," although he has "never been at sea in the whole course of his life," and at length thrust into a canoe, with some fresh water, bread, fruit, dried fish, and a basket of alligator pears. "Unhappy Popanilla! and all from that unlucky lock of hair!" His fright is ludicrously sketched. "Poor fellow! how could he know better? He certainly had enjoyed a seat at the Admiralty Board of Fantaisie, but then he was a lay-lord." Among his discoveries, on the second day, at 25 m. past 3 p.m., though at a considerable distance, he saw a mountain and an island: he called the first Alligator Mountain, in gratitude to the pears; and christened the second after his mistress; but the happy discoverer further found the mountain to be a mist, and the island a sea-weed. At length, on the third day, after being in a valley formed by two waves, each 3,000 feet high, and in as tremendous a tempest as ever raged in Chelsea or Battersea-reach, "great, square and solid, black clouds drew off like curtains, and revealed to him a magnificent city rising out of the sea. Tower and dome, arch, and column, and spire, and obelisk, and lofty terraces, and many-windowed palaces, rose in all directions from a mass of building, which appeared each instant to grow more huge, till at length it seemed to occupy the whole horizon." On his landing he is pestered with questions from the natives; but, thanks to the Hamiltonian system, "Popanilla, under these circumstances, was more loquacious than could have been Capt. Parry." He announces himself as the "most injured of human beings;" the women weep, the men shake hands with him, and all the boys huzza: he then narrates his ill-fortunes at Fantaisie, not forgetting the never-enough-to-be-lamented lock of hair. Other danger awaits him, for "to be strangled was not much better than to be starved; and certainly with half a dozen highly respectable females clinging round his neck, he was not reminded, for the first time in his life, what a domestic bowstring is an affectionate woman." He is next joined by an "influential personage," who informs him that he is in _Hubbabub_ (London)--the largest city, not only that exists, but that ever did exist, and the capital of the Island of _Vraibleusia_, the most famous island, not only that is known, but that ever was known. "He provides himself with a purse, and exchanges his money with a banker, who offers him during his stay in Vraibleusia, the use of a couple of equipages, a villa, an opera box; insists upon sending to his hotel some pineapples and very rare wine; and gives him a perpetual ticket to his picture-gallery." Popanilla leaves his gold and takes the banker's pink shells, for "no genteel person has ever anything else in his pocket." Then follow some quips on the shell question (currency), and Mr. Secretary Perriwinkle, the most eminent conchologist, and the "debt" of the richest nation in the world; although, "a golden pyramid, with a base as big as the whole earth and an apex touching the heavens, would not supply sufficient metal to satisfy the creditors." "The annual interest upon our debt exceeds the whole wealth of the rest of the world; therefore we must be the richest nation in the world."

[Footnote 10: "What boots it thee to call thyself a sun."]

Our traveller being now settled at a splendid hotel in Hubbabub, Skindeep, his "gentleman in black," drives him about the city in an elegant equipage. The western migrations of fashion are humorously sketched, and the architecture of our metropolis comes in for a share of the author's banter. "In general, the massy Egyptian appropriately graced the attic stories; while the finer and more elaborate architecture of Corinth was placed on a level with the eye, so that its beauties might be more easily discovered. Spacious colonnades were flanked by porticoes, surmounted by domes; nor was the number of columns at all limited, for you occasionally met with porticoes of two tiers, the lower one of which consisted of three, the higher one of thirty columns. Pedestals of the purest Ionic Gothic, were ingeniously mixed with Palladian pediments; and the surging spire exquisitely harmonized with the horizontal architecture of the ancients. But, perhaps, after all, the most charming effect was produced by the pyramids, surmounted by weathercocks."

A lively sketch of "the aboriginal inhabitant" introduces some smart satire on the agriculturists, and proves that, "between force, and fear, and flattery, the Vraibleusians paid for their corn nearly its weight in gold; but what did it signify to a nation with so many pink shells." Popanilla is next introduced to an eminent bookseller, who craves the honour of publishing a narrative of his voyage: he informs the "mercantile Mecaenas" that he does not know how to write; who replies that "he never had for a moment supposed that so sublime a savage could possess such a vulgar accomplishment, and that it was by no means difficult for a man to publish his travels without writing a line." This is a stale affair; but Popanilla's drinking a dozen of the bookseller's wine smacks more of novelty. His voyage is published, and contains a detailed account of every thing which took place during the whole of the three days, forming a quarto volume! Then we have a shower of squibs on _converzazioni_--as dukes imbibing a new theory of gas, a prime-minister studying pinmaking, a bishop the escapements of watches, a field-marshal intent on essence of hellebore. "But what most delighted Popanilla was hearing a lecture from the most eminent lawyer and statesman in Vraibleusia, on his first and favourite study of hydrostatics. His associations quite overcame him; all Fantaisie rushed upon his memory, and he was obliged to retire to a less frequented part of the room, to relieve his too excited feelings." The hostess too declares it "impossible for mankind ever to be happy and great, until, like herself and her friends," her company are "all soul!"

Popanilla is now constituted ambassador from Fantaisie, and goes through all the courtly scenes of diplomacy, for which we have not room; but their gist will be readily understood among the stars of St. James's, especially the authors allusions to Navarino and the late ministry, which are in good set terms. The "Aboriginal," too, tells Popanilla "some long stories about a person who was chief manager, about five hundred years ago, to whom he said he was indebted for all his political principles."

During Popanilla's sight-seeing career, he, of course, visits our theatres, and a tolerably broad caricature he gives of them. "To sit in a huge room hotter than a glass-house, in a posture emulating the most sanctified Faquir, with a throbbing head-ache, a breaking back, and twisted legs, with a heavy tube held over one eye, and the other covered with the unemployed hand, is, in Vraibleusia, called a public amusement." In one morning's lionizing, too, he acquires "a general knowledge of the chief arts and sciences, eats three hundred sandwiches, and tastes as many bottles of sherry."

The frauds and fooleries of the joint stock company mania are, perhaps, among the least successful portion of the volume. The "literature" is somewhat better, as the establishment of a "Society for the Diffusion of Fashionable Knowledge"--its first treatise, Nonchalance--dissertations "on leaving cards," "cutting friends," "on bores," &c.--and a new novel called "Burlington"--the last a scratch at Popanilla's publisher. The "Clubs" are next recommended for those fond of solitude, and their satin luxuries humorously quizzed; but "the Colonial System," which follows, has more causticity. Popanilla, like all other great foreigners who visit England, falls ill; his disorder is "unquestionably nervous;" he is to count five between each word he utters, never ask questions, and avoid society, and only dine out once a day. This regimen brings on a slow fever; but his disorder is neither "liver," nor "nervous," but "mind." He next falls in with an Essay on Fruit, from which he learns that thousands of the Vraibleusians are dying with dyspepsia from eating pine-apples, which are denounced as "stupid, sour, and vulgar."