ONE would think that, while private gentlemen are enriching their galleries with new purchases, and others, who never had collections, are making them, there would be no great difficulty in advantageously increasing our National Gallery. There are trustees for the purpose; but we never hear of any competition between them and private purchasers. What is the meaning of this? Cannot the nation afford? Oh, yes! - when they do buy, they give money enough. Are they afraid of the responsibility of having their knowledge ge and taste called in question? Then it would be a great virtue in them to retire; and, dismissing them, we would say, as the archbishop said to Gil Blas, we wish you "every success in the world, and a little more taste." Are the markets shut? By no means; there are numerous, and some most respectable dealers, whose merchandise is pictures; there are auctions of pictures; and only a few weeks ago we saw a smart competition at one, and some good pictures, though not in good condition, sold, when a beautiful Gaspar Poussin was knocked down for L.500. We speak of one of the many auctions-at most there is something worth having; but neither at auctions nor at the collections of dealers are the grand trustees for the National Gallery to be seen or heard of, by themselves or by deputy. We have heard it said that they reject all overtures from professed dealers, most of whom now cease to offer them a view of their galleries. Of whom, then, do they purchase, when they do purchase? We will not attribute to them any jobbing-we will not suppose they wish to favour any one by kindly taking pictures of doubtful character off their hands-we will attribute to them nothing worse than a want of confidence in their own judgment, and that perhaps implies a deficiency in the judgment itself. We say they have not taste to cater for the public; and therefore they take what they conceive to be the only safe way to themselves. There are certain persons to whom the world has given a very large share of reputation for their knowledge of pictures. They are persons of acknowledged taste:

let us then prevail upon them to sell, say the trustees, and we shall be sure to be right. Never mind what we give; the sum given will stamp a value-our taste cannot be called in question-we are well backed: and so, with this lion's provider going before them, they make a few purchases, at prices so exorbitant as to strike all the moderate and professional dealers with instant envy, at the mercantile success of the great man who does but spare his treasures. Sometimes, we believe, an ill grace is affected a disinclination to spare, if the purchase is to be for the National Gallery; and then a system of manœuvring is set about, the consequences of which are, that two or three pictures are taken together, "the cheese and the grindstones," and both parties are wondrously pleased with the transaction, and the taste of the public astonished. Still the public have the valuable information, in a catalogue, that the pictures came from the celebrated collection of Mr So-and-so. But suppose this lion's provider should, after all, be a person of capricious taste, who so little knows his own mind, that what pleases today must be discarded to-morrow; who has alternately fits of his admirationthe grand of art to-day, and the mere bijouterie and littlenesses of it to-morrow; extravagant in his whims, not reckoning cost; whose very parting with good things should make the steadiness of his taste, and consequently its accuracy, questionable. Let him be one who "diruit, ædificat, mutat quadrata rotundis;" in such a case, it is to be feared the trustees may sometimes exhibit the vagaries of that ambling light, and not find themselves upon the most certain footing.

There is another method of making a gallery, which might, under restrictions, be well enough" the legacy system." On this we say, let the nation by all means accept good things bequeathed, but let them also have a power to reject, or they may be, and indeed still are, sadly burdened with refuse; but to publish, as they are doing by speeches in the House of Commons, a beggarly petition of the kind, is utterly unworthy the object and the character of a National Gallery.

We quarrel with the trustees; for they do little, and the little they do is with little judgment, and at extravagant cost; but mostly we complain of what they do not do. It is not of very great consequence if we give double or treble the value for what is excellent; but it is vexatious to see continually admirable works, that might ornament the public collection, either irretrievably going out of the country, or being settled in private collections, to which the public can have no access. There is an anecdote which exemplifies the little reliance these persons, whom the nation has ap. pointed to purchase for the collection, can have, or indeed ought to have, upon their own judgment. Plympton, the native town of Sir Joshua, wishing to pay honour to so great a man, and proud, at the same time, to benefit themselves by the honour meant to be conferred, elected Sir Joshua Reynolds as mayor of the town, hinting, at the same time, that, if his personal attendance was inconvenient, he should send his substitute. The great painter did so, and, in time for their feast-day, sent them his own portrait, an admirable picture; we believe Sir William Elford, no bad judge, received it on its arrival, and it was of course honourably welcomed as the substitute. Then "the arts" were "liberal," and bestowed a treasure; but, in process of time, the town became "liberal," and, under the "liberal municipal law," preferred Joseph's arithmetic to Sir Joshua's fame and picture, and their own honour accruing from the possession. The municipal sacrificed the munificent. The gift went to auction with the liberal corporation's other effects. Lord Valletort was the purchaser; and, thinking it a great gain for the National Gallery, offered it to the trustees. They met, not knowing probably the story of the picture, and instantly, as became connoisseurs, they had their misgivings. A nobleman of great influence decided on its being a copy, and a copy it was; and thus they held their inquest over Sir Joshua's person, and delivered in their verdict, "non est inventus." When the originality was ascertained, and the whole history known, they made ample amends by more ample offers, in vain; and the walls of the "Na

tional" still re-echo the coroner's verdict, "non est inventus." The picture was very pure, in consequence of its having been well preserved in a dry room, and carefully kept from the time it was received from Sir Joshua to the dispersion of the corporation effects of Plympton.

It is universally acknowledged that the building of the National Gallery is a national disgrace-an utter failure. It has no beauty in itself, and it would be difficult to design rooms more unfit, both as to light and dimensions, for the exhibition of pictures. You have perpetually to shift and manage the blinds, and yet can scarcely get a light for any picture; nor do we think the attempt of hanging them forward, for the purpose, at all successful. The pictures, indeed, excepting some few which are improved by varnishing alone, looked infinitely better in the old rooms in Pall-Mall. Nothing can be more absurd than the practice of suiting pictures to rooms. Surely, if it be of moment to the nation to give thousands for a picture, it ought to be worth while to have it seen to the best advantage; and this is, generally speaking, impossible, where many are together, and in evil and incongruous juxtaposition in a large room. How lovely would the Claudes be-and probably they are the finest in the worldwere they each in a room with a single and most appropriate light; or, if this may not be practicable, let there be no more than three or four in one apartment. We were surprised, knowing well their real beauties, to see them look so very ill: we will not give their effect epithets, because the fault is not in the works. It is lamentable to see such wonders of art sacrificed. The fact is, long galleries, and large galleries, and high galleries, are all absurd things. There is an architectural difficulty to be overcome, without doubt; but architectural genius should overcome that. We would see pictures and not rooms; and therefore would have a great number and a great variety of apartments. Leave "showrooms" to milliners and upholsterersand such show-rooms! There is no end to mounting the "Gradus ad Parnassum," where the Muses are lodged as in an hospital of invalids. And why should Mr Wilkins allow fifty years for filling these rooms? Fifty years! Why, one single collection might be

the lower the pink-red cloud catches the eye. How much above most of Murillo's pictures is this of the Holy Family and how much is it below its subject! Murillo was never equal to sacred subjects. We must not go out of Italy for holy families: and of the Italian, Raphael was alone "Divine." Coreggio was indeed all sweetness, all purified affection—but human affection. Raphael alone was above human affection. In his female saints, and Madonnas, and holy Virgins, all human sense and intellect had passed into the celestial. They are not of an earthly home. But those of the Spaniard are always peasants, never of a high cast of feeling, and sometimes vulgar. What, then, shall we say of the new Raphael-the "St Catharine of Alexandria?" that it has less of this divine cast of the great painter than is usual with his valuable pictures: yet it is very beautiful. We desire to see more of the face, and more certainly to ascertain the expression. Little as we regret that any price should be paid for a Raphael, we cannot but think seven thousand pounds for the three pictures of Raphael, Mazzolino de Ferrara, and Garofalo, of which say five for the Raphael, quite monstrous-at the ut most but the work of two or three days! Such prices tend to keep up the perpetual jobbing in pictures, and greatly to stand in the way of any future reasonable purchases. As to the Mazzolino and Garofalo, the public might beneficially dispense with the possession of either. They have neither of them any beauty; though, for the age in which they were painted, there is much merit: but it is merit of a kind rather to gratify curiosity than taste. The Mazzolino de Ferrara would be well disposed of in the panel of some old cloister door, with whose quaint carvings it would be of a piece. The colour, which is its great merit, is of that peculiar character, ancient character; and brings to mind old stamped, painted, and gilt leather, which is not unfrequently seen in the panels of old carved doors. The draperies in this picture are very curious, quite embossed round the figures, particularly noticeable in the drapery of the figure playing upon an instrument. The Garofalo certainly has more pretensions to beauty; but they are both what may be termed eccentric pictures. Those who pursue art

for its history, may find amusement in collecting such pictures; those who love art for the sake of its higher purposes, will turn from them with painful feeling. We know there is a strong inclination to collect pictures historically, and according to dates; and (for we always too inconsiderately consult foreigners upon such subjects, and pay too great a deference to their judgments) the examination before the Committee of the House, already alluded to, includes such a recommendation. Sorry indeed shall we be if the trustees give it a moment's consideration; it would create a bias difficult to bend to any good purpose, and to prefer bad things to complete schools, to good things, when others of the same master are already in the collection. Let us have no curiosityrubbish, but the genuine works of accomplished genius, whether great or small, whether the value be hundreds or thousands.

The two large Guidos, No. 87 and 90, if they were once genuine, have been so sadly damaged, that it is dif. ficult to ascertain the original painting. They are cracked all over: they had probably, before they came into possession of the King, been thoroughly painted over in varnish, which in a few years must have separated, leaving large gaps on the surface. The pictures appear newly done up, and it is very likely with the same vehicle with which they had been before restored; and so in a few years will require a third restoration. If these pictures cracked in this manner in their original paint, they are not by the hand of Guido. The "Perseus rescuing Andromeda" is finely coloured, especially the sea and distance, which are deep and solemn. Sir Joshua Reynolds, West, and Sir Thomas Lawrence are together, and may be considered competitors for a prize. The works of each are important: if West does not overpower by excellence, by stretch of canvass he will certainly bear down all before him. Nos. 131 and 132, "Christ healing the Sick in the Temple," and "The Last Supper." Mr West was the oddest of painters of human flesh; his contrasts are ridiculous, from the whiteness of leprosy to all the copper Indian chalk and brick-dust. It is astonishing that the former of these pictures should ever have attained any celebrity, even by

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the most ardent puffing. It must have been by the extraordinary efforts of Unitarians, who must have been delighted to see the Redeemer totally deprived of all Divinity, and reduced to the weakest of human beings and this from the hands of the President of the Royal Aca-, demy. It is hard to say in which of the two pictures - the chalk or the brick-dust the degradation is most complete. The two pictures by Sir Thomas Lawrence are very unlike each other - the Portrait of Mrs Robinson, presented by her husband (proh pudor!)-and the Hamlet Apostrophizing the Skull." The latter is in a great degree finely coloured, and appropriately to the sentiment. We are sorry to notice the cracking that is taking place-the effect of painting with varnish. Perhaps the smallness of the head in so large a space of canvass is objectionable as a composition; and as to the sentiment, it might be said that the conception of the poet was that of Thought overpowering Space-in the picture it is the reverse. Of the other picture we would say nothing, if we could abstain. It is vilissima rerum. By all means let it be returned to Mr Robinson, with the nation's compli

ments.

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The

No. 143, Portrait of Lord Ligonier." Admirable! Sir Joshua has the prize. How complete the picture is in itself-the sky a little too light, perhaps, about the head. execution is as it should be, representing an old soldier, bold and free. There is the very spirit of action, even to the distance, in the well dashed in subordinate figures in the background. If Sir Joshua has the prize, here is another antagonist to West-a lady very unlike an Amazonian, though she faces the President without fear-Angelica Kauffman. We are not sorry to see one of her progeny, though somewhat too big for a niche in the national temple of fame. Angelica, too, has a sacred subject, and, alas! allegorical "Religion attended by the Virtues." The poor weak Virtues have not, and they ought not to have, any thing to boast of, but naked children with little heads. They are sentimentally rosy. However, there is really considerable skill in the general grouping, and dexterity of handling and colour in

the painting; in these latter respects West is beat out of the field. The trustees would do well to present this to the Lying in, or Foundling Hospital, where they clothe naked children-or the Poor-Law Commissioners may take delight in "Religion," an allegory, fatherless children, and distressed mothers.

The two landscapes of Wilson, "View of Mæcenas' Villa," and the "Story of Niobe," though in many respects beautiful pictures, are not such specimens of the great English landscape-painter as the nation ought to possess. "Mæcenas' Villa" is very dark. The best Gainsborough land. scape, by far, is the "Watering-Place," which is very much improved by varnish. It does not now look dingy, but is rich and transparent. It is not very elevated in subject, if the scene be considered as the subject if evening gloom, it is happy, and with that view poetical. It is worth ten of the " Market-Cart," a detestable piece of vulgarity, purchased at large cost by the British Institution, and presented to the nation. The Gallery ought to have some of Gainsborough's portraits; he was far better in that walk than in landscape. It was not an injudicious remark of Richard Wilson's, when Sir Joshua praised Gainsborough as the best English landscape-painter, "Yes," says Wilson, "and the best portrait-painter too." We should rejoice to see Ralphe Schomberg back again. That is an admirable portrait, full of character the individual man. Sir Joshua delighted to represent the thinking man-Gainsborough the living, the acting. His portraits are histories-the growth of man out of daily circumstances and transactions-the character formed by the outer world, not that which is abstracted from and independent of it.

We have mostly noticed such pictures as are either new to the public, or that had not come under observation in former remarks. We purposely abstain from going over old ground, and shall therefore conclude this part of our notice, earnestly pressing upon the attention of the public the cause of the National Gallerythat it should not be allowed to be stationary. The honour and benefit of the country are both at daily risk of suffering. Pictures, valuable pictures, may be purchased, if proper