firm arts.

EXHIBITION OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY.

[SECOND NOTICE.]

THE comparatively low average of merit possessed by the present year's exhibition gives full leisure for studying the few good

pictures that relieve the general mediocrity. One of these few is Mr. Calderon's "Massacre of St. Bartholomew" (378), to which I cursorily alluded last week, representing the interior of the English Ambassador's house at Paris during that sanguinary event. Here only was a Protestant safe, and hither have fled in haste for refuge English men and women of every grade. The story is admirably told, without grimace or exaggeration. The indignation and grief of the Ambassador (Walsingham), thought- fully pacing to and fro, is in fine contrast with the group of frightened women in the foreground, and the men who crowd to the wide oriel window at the back, and watch the bloody work outside, with every shade of anger, resentment, and horror sug- gested in their faces or actions. It is a worthy subject, worthily treated, sober yet luminous in colour, and very true in the play of indoor light. I cannot discover the hard " bounding outline" in which the artist has been accused of here indulging, and could scarcely wish anything altered except the rather intemperate action of the man on the left, who shakes his fist at the objects of his indignation. The action borders on the ludicrous, and, though probably not unnatural, interferes with the general dig- nity of the piece.

"On the Road from Waterloo to Paris" (345), is another re- markable picture by a yet younger artist. Napoleon, fresh from his great defeat, seizes the first safe opportunity for rest in a pea- sant's cottage. Weary and travel-stained, he sits in despondent attitude before the fire, where he has probably been placed more by the sedulous care of his aide-de-camp than by his own choice.

His slender chance of replacing his broken and routed army is seen in the composition of the half-pleasel, half-scared family

that, from a respectful distance, gazes on its great guest. A

battered veteran, who "will no more march again," and his little grandson, who is scarcely old enough even to play at soldiering, are its only male representatives, and the spade in the young widow's hand attests the scarcity of able-bodied men. Mean- while, outside the cottage door, the escort keep their saddles, and answer as best they may the eager inquiries after the day's battle. Mr. Stone is the son of a deservedly popular artist, but has not been satisfied, as too many in a similar position are, to imitate his father's pictures. His present work is as original as it is fc.rcible. It is a long step in advance of his previous efforts, and displays a quiet power which augurs well for the future.

Mr. Leighton, on the other hand, has never again reached the level of his early flight. He would seem rather to be intent on acquiring a character for versatility, and has, in fact, met with much commendation for his year's work. Nevertheless, his illus- tration of "Hast thou killed and also taken possession?" (382), is little else than a piece of ornamental furniture ; and the girl feed- ing peacocks (429) looks like no possible scene in nature. A girl with a basket of fruit (406) (letting alone the dubious drawing of the right shoulder) is graceful and delicately painted, but too sentimentally pretty. And the somewhat theatrical crossbow- man (508) is chiefly remarkable for its black shadows

Mr. Feed's pictures of cottage life tell their stories, as usual, without obtruding a moral, and the actors in his rustic dramas are of that unaffectedly homely sort that only close study of nature eaables a man truly to pourtray. "The Silken Gown" (377), and "Train up a Child" (213), are good examples ot the painter, less ambitious in subject, but not less successful in treatment, than his principal work of last year. Very admirable is the way by which in the former the spectator is made to feel the hardship urged upon the lassie of exchanging Donald for Robin, by the spectacle, that is, seen through the open door,of the elderly and ill-favoured Robin driving his matrimonial bargain with the father over the inevitable toddy, just for all the world as if he were dealing for a score of beasts. The solidity and honesty of Mr. Faed's work are scarcely appreciated without comparing his men and women with his backgrounds. These, with all their accessories, though painted with great accuracy and force, yet never interfere with the main interest of the picture, and show Mr. Faed to be a true artist, and not only a skilful handicraftsman.

Mr. F. Goodhall, R.A., has not yet exhausted his Egyptian portfolios. Long, indeed, may it be ere he does so ! There is no comparison between the supernaturally trim peasants that he used to imagine as inhabiting England, or to find (?) in Brittany, and the dignified inhabitants of the East that now employ his brush. The superiority of his present over his former acquaint- ances has inspired him with a corresponding largeness of treat- ment. Besides the local truth which his "Palm Offering" (515) has in common with the "Tambourine Girl" (268) and "Coffee Bearer" (419), there is a noble sorrow exhibited in the widow " going unto [her husband's] grave to weep there," which powerfully appeals to a sympathetic imagination. Of Mr. E. M. Ward's two, "La Toilette des Morts " (124), and " Hogarth's Studio" (199), I prefer the former, notwithstanding its painful subject. In the latter, there is too much of the hot gaudy colour and slippery surface of which he seems so fond, and the gestures of the children are, for the most part, exag- gerated. Mrs. Ward is a better colourist than her husband. She (and other ladies who do likewise) are right in sending their pictures here, and not resorting to a separate exhibition for the works of " female " artists. If ladies are to compete for honours in the world of art, they must be judged by the general standard ; and on these walls there is conclusive evidence that they have nothing to fear in the competition.

Mr. E. Nicol has contributed several pictures of wholesome Irish humour which well deserve the good positions they occupy. The subjects are such as Wilkie or Hogarth might have painted, but the treatment is Mr. Nicol's own. "Renewal of the Lease Refused" (397), is, perhaps, the best. The miserly-looking landlord may have good reason for his refusal, but has evidently so little but his own interest at heart, that you are more inclined to take part with the discarded tenant, although his thin lips and uncanny expression suggest that his next appearance may be with blunderbuss behind a stone wall.

Mr. J. Gilbert extorts our admiration by his vigour, in spite of carelessness and excessive mannerism in his workmanship. His picture, "The Rearguard, with Baggage Waggons" (480), is full of life and action ; the devil-may-care troopers attired in such coats, with lace and facings so faded and soiled as only Mr. Gilbert can paint ; and the toiling waggon-horses noisily with whip and voice urged up the rough ground beyond. Mr. Dobson's (A.) faults are just the opposite of Mr. Gilbert's. In the "Holy ,Family" (340) the drawing is excellent ; but the good language serves for little else than to show that the artist has nothing to say.

Mr. Poole, R.A., notwithstanding a more natural scale of colour and an excellent landscape for background, is hardly equal to his former self in the " Goatherd's Courtship." (191.) Nor will Mr. Herbert, R.A., add to his reputation by his " Judith " (509), whose leathery complexion is not so unsuited to the epic grandeur of the subject as the distorted prettiness of her features. And (to conclude the ungrateful task of noting the backslidings of favout ite artists) Mr. J. C. Horsley, A., must beware of inkiness in his shadows spoiling an otherwise attractive picture, such as "My Lady and Her Children" (414) undoubtedly is.

It is, perhaps, not to be expected that the attempt to transfer Shakespeare's heroines to canvass should be entirely successful. Their best qualities are apt to evaporate in the process. Certainly Mr. Frith, R.A., has not succeeded in his picture of "Juliet' (100) in representing more than a very commonplace young woman of a romantic turn of mind. Mr. F. R. Pickersgill's "Ferdinand and Miranda" (37) shows more refinement, but comes perilously near to insipidity.

Landscape painting is anart which Academicians seem agreed to "put down ;" none more completely than Academician land- scape painters themselves. Mr. Creswick's leaden colour and absolute want of sunshine, Mr. Lee's clayey conventionalisms, and Mr. Witherington's feeble platitudes are direct aids to this result, the attainment of which is further hastened by the ostentatious display of such works on the line, and the shame- ful hanging out of the way of the few good landscapes admitted. Mr. E. W. Cooke, A., must be excused from complicity in this scheme. An honest workman, he is never careless or conven- tional. Too matter-of fact generally, and too anxious to paint geological and botanical details, he, nevertheless, sometimes produces a picture, as the "Church of St. Salute at Sunset" (585), in which his art is more successfully concealed and feeling has the mastery.

Mr. Linnell is still supreme in those glowing transcripts of home scenes which, whether "Harvest Sunset" (472), or "Sheep Feeding" (671), be the subject, be invests by his art with a peculiar dignity and interest. The juniors of his name in vain attempt to follow in his steps. The imitation fails, as usual, in the essential points. .

Mr. Anthony must long ago have become callous to the injus- tice of the hanging committee. Fortunately, his "Relic of the Old Feudal Time" (645), a view of the grand old ruin which "overlooks the sandy tracts" at Laugharne, South Wales, is a sub- ject too noble in outline, and too well treated by the artist, to be quite eclipsed by bad light or position. But others fare less for- tunately. Not every artist can with impunity be grounded or mast-headed. Half the beauties of Mr. Danby's "Snowdon" (551), the mountain top capped and fretted with snow, and the grass on the lower slopes, browned with frost and cold, will never be seen at its present distance from the eye. And it is only by a fortunate gap in the crowd of spectators, and a resolute determina- tion to discover a good picture, that it is possible to get a sight of Mr. W. Field's "Pastoral" (401), with its sky full of light, and the sunshine on stately elm tree and distant bill, refreshingly con- trasted with the cool grey shade of the lane along which the cattle are wending at milking time—of Mr. Davis's "Amble- tense Bay" (279), and "Twilight" (685), remarkable for close study and tender imitation of nature—of Mr. C. J. Lewis's " Am- bleteuse" (373), a graveyard by the sea, with rank grasses and wild flowers under a dappled sky—and others, all alike so placed that, to see them, a spectator need have gone through the Hythe course of instruction in musketry, and learned to sit at ease on