166 POUSSiN. 



loroiis, by the side of some impending rock, amidst tlie 

 din of torrents plunging down to the horrid gulf be- 

 low him, he formed a style original, savage, and in- 

 domitable. Nothing entered into his pictures that was 

 commonplace or mean. His figures were banditti, for- 

 lorn travellers, or wrecked mariners. His trees the mo- 

 narch chestnut, forming impenetrable forests, or blasted 

 and riven by the thunderbolt. All his forms were 

 grand ; even his winged clouds had a stern aspect, and 

 partook of the general character. Titian, Claude, 

 Poussin, Salvator Rosa, — these, and some others of the 

 good old times, drew the poetry and soul of landscape, 

 and not its mere dead image — and this is the triumph 

 of art." 



I fancy my new friend the artist paid very little 

 attention to my remarks, which I am not at all sur- 

 prised at ; for he began to soliloquise in an absent man- 

 ner about Poussin, whom he said I should have 

 placed between Claude and Rosa ; and as he seemed to 

 threaten rather a long encomium, I pretended to see 

 a fish rise, and glided away qviietly : for I thought 

 enough had been said on the subject of painting 

 already. As I stole off, however, I caught a few un- 

 connected expressions ; such as " dark groves and 

 solitude — storms, — tempests, — and alpine ridges." 

 Then he grew somewhat classical, and began to recite 

 from Virgil — 



" Tot congcsta manu praeruptis oppida saxis, 

 Fluminaque antiques subterlabcntia muros." 



At this I walked faster and faster, till I got totally 

 out of hearing. Not through dislike of the subject did 



I 



