1830.] 



Fine Arts' Publications. 



700 



tion is evermore checked by a sense of 

 what is due to the harmony of nature 

 to which Mrs. Hall's sketches are always 

 singularly faithful. We have scarcely 

 a niche left for the poetry there is 

 much that we could wish to quote, by 

 Airs. Norton, Mr. Kennedy, James 

 Hogg, Miss Landon, and Miss Bowles. 

 We are almost grieved at the impossibi- 

 lity of evincing our admiration of the 

 Poor Man's Death Bed, by the last named 

 lady, by quoting it. We have copied 

 it into the album of our memory, as some 

 atonement, and shall cherish 'its recol- 

 lection. In closing this beautiful vo- 

 lume, we must beg to assure its editor 

 that in no part of it has he better shewn 

 the purity of his taste than in his pre- 

 face. It is by far the most eloquent 

 that we ever read for it contains but 

 ten lines. 



Contrasted with the gaiety of its an- 

 nual companions comes the gravity of 

 the Iris. In point of embellishments it 

 may rank with the best. The frontis- 

 piece, Christ blessing little Children 

 splendidly engraved by J. W. Cooke, 

 is one of West's best compositions ; and 

 the title-page is adorned with a head of 

 the Saviour, by Lawrence, distinguished 

 by a meek and touching expression, but 

 not elevated in character. It is the 

 beautiful rather than the sublime. Then 

 follows St. John the Evangelist (Domi- 

 nichino), by W. Finden Nathan and 

 David ( West), by S. Sangster the Na- 

 tivity (Reynolds), by A.. W. Warren, a 

 lovely little picture Madonna and 

 Child (Correggio), by A. Fox, in which 

 the engraver has shewn more taste than 

 the painter the Deluge (N. Poussin), 

 by E. Roberts Christ blessing the 

 Bread (Carlo Dolci), by W. Ensom 

 Infant St. John and Lamb (Murillo), 

 by Davenport Judas returning the 

 thirty pieces (llembrandt), by W. Rad- 

 don, very rich and llembrandt-like and 

 Jesus with Mary in the Garden (Titian), 

 y W. Ensom, in which the tone and co- 

 louring of Titian are as distinct as the 

 graver can render them. If great names 

 are worth any thing, this list is a golden 

 catalogue ; nor will the expectations 

 which it conjures up be disappointed. 

 We are glad to see the old beauties of 

 the art in this new and splendid attire 

 to see the gigantic creations of the 

 great masters brought before us in mi- 

 niature. The literature is too sombre 

 for our taste ; yet its piety should pro- 

 tect it from being pronounced dull. All 

 lighter matter is not excluded from it. 

 The Curse of Property, by Mrs. S. C. 

 Hall, is as fresh and clear as a spring in 

 the desert ; and Miss Porter's Sketch 

 of Sir Philip Sidney is an offering wor- 

 thy of the poet of prose-writers. The 

 poems by the editor may lay claim to 

 the merit of being graceful compositions, 



and display taste, if they are deficient 

 in the higher poetical essentials power 

 and imagination. They seldom rise into 

 the full beauty of their subjects. The 

 poet who treats of such matters as Mr. 

 Dale has selected, should possess a 

 fancy that can " play i' the plighted 

 clouds :" he should at once, to adopt Haz- 

 litt's description of Coleridge, " enter 

 into his subject, like an eagle dallying 

 with the wind." 



Of the illustrations of Mr. Watts' 

 Souvenir, we have already expressed our 

 opinion. Coming before us as they now 

 do, with all the accessories of clear type, 

 gold edges, and splendid binding, we are 

 inclined to like them rather better than 

 at first. In the insinuating garb of 

 such a volume as this, blemishes them- 

 selves take the semblance of beauties. 

 The Lady Agar Ellis*) the Narrative, and 

 the Trojan Fugitives, are gems like 

 those of the Irish Maiden, "rich and 

 rare." The author of '- Lillian" is fore- 

 most on the list of contributors. In his 

 Legend of the Haunted Tree there are 

 many wild notes of genuine poetry ; and 

 his Belle of the Ball Room is superior 

 both in idea and execution to any thing 

 of the kind that has lately appeared. 

 Lady Olivia's Decamerone is pleasant 

 as far as it goes, but it is a mere frag- 

 ment of the fun we anticipated. Mr. 

 St. John's Palace of the Rajah Hur- 

 chund is glowing and oriental. We 

 admit the moral, though we cannot find 

 the music, of the ballad of the Three 

 Guests, by Mary Howitt; poems of this 

 class should be first-rate, or they are 

 nothing. The Smuggler's Last Trip, 

 though it presents no new feature to 

 distinguish it from a thousand of its 

 class, touches the true key, and awakens 

 interest. In the lines on the frontis- 

 piece, the Mother and Child, Mr. Her- 

 vey has availed himself of the full 

 license of poetry, in making very wide 

 circles round his subject now and then 

 losing sight of it altogether ; there is too 

 much gloom and too little grace in it to 

 serve as a comment upon the lustre of 

 Laurence. We like the Last of the 

 Titans, by Wm. Howitt ; arid the Toor- 

 koman's Tale (there are too many of 

 these tales) by the author of the " Kuz- 

 zilbash." Much might be said, had we 

 space, for Woman's Wit, Love-Breezes, 

 by Miss Jewsbury, and the Last of his 

 Tribe. We were excited by the ani- 

 mated account of the Bull Fight, by the 

 author of the " Castilian ;" and in- 

 terested in the deepest sense by the 

 History of Sarah Curren who would 

 have been entitled to our regard inde- 

 pendent of the song of Moore's in which 

 her memory is embalmed. We cannot 

 particularize all the poetry that has 

 pleased us. Miss Landon, Miss Bowles, 

 and Mrs. Watts 'have contributed richly 



