at Rotterdam, in 1698. We admire in this, as much as in the preceding ones, the expression of the heads. There are here nine pictures by Rembrandt;|| some portraits, others historical subjects. The one I admire most is a three-quartered portrait of himself. Those energetic touches, that magic of light and shade, which makes us like him so much, are happily depicted here. or where he finished. One suffers with those that are falling. What sublime confusion! It is a burst of Rubens' genius, and can only be compared to the fine conception of Milton's Paradise Lost. Lucas Vosterman has engraved it. The whole-length portraits of Rubens and his wife, are well painted, and replete with grace and truth. They have been engraved by Hetz. happy. I have said too much, and yet not enough; The Assumption of the Virgin, by Guido Reni, but it is no longer in my power to correct my is one of his most esteemed works. The Virgin fault. If I have been able only to make you is ascending the heavens, carried on the clouds appreciate the fine collection I have endeaby two angels; two other angels hide them-voured to describe, I shall feel myself too selves under her drapery. The attitude of the Virgin, the correct and agreeable expression of the heads, the beauty of the drapery, all enchant us in this admirable production. It has been engraved in dots by professor Hetz. This picture is nine feet ten inches long, by seven feet wide. I have still a few words to say of Rubens: forty-six of his works are found here. I shall not, however, dwell on them, as you have an opportunity every day at the Museum, of judging of more than fifty of his pictures. Permit me, however, to add a few words relating to those who have written on this gallery. The first architect, Nicholas de Pigage, has published in 1779, a work entitled "On the Electoral Gallery of Dusseldorf; or, Descriptive Catalogue of its Paintings" This description is written in French, and ornamented with thirty large plates, engraved by Chretien Michel, at Basle. All the pictures are represented in the order they are placed. They are in general well engraved, and in the true style of their different masters. In engraving each part of the Gallery on one plate, the dimensions must be naturally observed; the result is, that the small pictures must necessarily appear embarrassed, so much so that they can scarcely be recognized. This is the fate of two of Vander Werff's. The drawings and the plates cost the Elector above 40001. These plates are so much worn that no more impressions can be taken from them. There are still eight proofs to be sold at the Gallery, their price is six guineas. The descriptive part is well written; as to the judgments, the author in general praises too much, thinking that the name of a great painter is sufficient for a work to be exempt from faults. The Day of Judgment, is one of the prodigies from the pencil of Rubens, and undoubtedly one of his most capital performances. I, however, think this subject out of the style of painting, still more so than the Deluge. The celebrated Lessing has made the same observation in his Laocoon We cannot deny that this picture has great beauties; but the subject is not treated in a style worthy of its anthor. None of the figures have the attitude or character that becomes them, not even the principal one, Jesus Christ If ever a subject was favourable to expressions, this certainly is, where you may represent men of all ages agitated by all the various passions, all the virtues, and all the vices. We cannot then with reason pardon him for making so many mean and insignificant faces, when he had at his command all the various expressions which characterize the human heart. But in reproaching him with this fault, we cannot but admire the grandeur of his composition, his fine groupes, his various attitudes, his bold and striking touches, that warmth and beauty of colouring which enchants us in all the works of Rubens, particularly if we view them at a certainder of the Lower Rhine, for the Amateurs of distance; those tints, unequalled in the time he painted, insured him a crown of immortal faine. This picture, one of the largest of this master, by its height, gave the plan for the construction of the gallery; it is twenty feet long, by fifteen feet wide. It has been engraved by Cornelius Vischer. The Fall of Sinners to Hella Sketch. It is not easy to divine where the artist commenced J. R. Forster speaks much of this collection in his "Travels to the Lower Rhine," which for the style may be deemed an excellent work. Many of his judgments are just, and prove that he unites genius with knowledge; others shew an amateur prejudiced against the Flemish school, who sometimes only criticises to remain true to his own system. There has appeared, since 1799, "A Calen the Good and Beautiful," by F. Muhr. It gives a description and engravings of the principal paintings of this fine collection. The engravings are executed with care, by Hetz; and the descriptions, written with discernment, give us a just idea of the artist and his performance. Every amateur of painting ought to wish to enrich his library with this work. T. C. POETRY, ORIGINAL AND SELECT. ELIJAH'S MANTLE. Written a few months since, and attributed to the pen of Mr. Cg. WHEN by the Almighty's dread command, Rose in the sacred flame, In Pitt, our Israel saw combined, Now, sad reverse, that spirit's reft➡ For no Elisha's near. Grenville! to aid thy Treas'ry's fame, Pit's generous ardour feel; Thy wealth-a nation's weal. Those hours of fierce debate, And teach thee, in thy latest day, His form of prayer (if thou canst pray)➡ Thy rigid brow unbend; His hatred warr'd not with the dead- Of funeral honors rob his corse, Like the Greek Cynic rail. The fourth and fifth stanzas of this Ode were, of course, written previous to the death of Mr. | Fox, otherwise they would never have found a place here. Illustrious Roscius of the State, Petty or Betty, actor hight 'Twill aid thy ways and means, "Twill charm away the fiends. Hast conn'd the seaman's chart? And hoist it on thy mast; And rival victories past. Sidmouth-though low that head is laid, Gave thee the sweets of power and place, And rear'd thy tiny worth; Think how his Mantle wrapp'd thee roundIs one of equal value found, Amongst thy new compeers? Or can thy cloak of Amiens stuff, When factions threaten'd Britain's land, Pitt's powerful tongue their rage could check, The Israel that he loved. Yes, honour'd shade, whilst near thy grave, TO MY ARM CHAIR. TROU lov'd companion of my lonely hours, When Fortune frown'd and friends were far away, Oft have I blest thee for thy soothing powers, Lull'd in thine arms I taste a pleasing calm, O'er my wrapt senses steals an opiate balm, To brighter scenes excursive fancy flies, The future smiles in gayer garb array'd. Visions of sweet domestic joy arise, As peeps the Parsonage from the sheltering shade. The laugh, the jest, the fleeting hours beguile, While heavenly Music's softening charins combine With friends who bring good humour's ready smile, And hearts which beat in unison with mine. Not with one wish imagination burns, O'er proud ambition's slippery paths to roam, True as the needle, to one point she turnsThe point comprising all I cherish-Home. No drowsy dullness o'er the powers of mind Thy soothing charms, my honour'd chair diffuse, Oft in thy bosom, by my fire, reclin'd, I weave the verse, and woo the playful muse. Borne on her wing, 'mid fairy climes I go, Tho' sad around me mourns the wint'ry gale, Crop Fancy's roses 'mid December's snow, And balmy Spring's ambrosial breeze inhale. If such the calm, when blest with thee, I shareIf such the joys thy gentle influence showers-Can the proud despot's tottering throne compare With thee, companion of my lonely hours? No; o'er his head, tho' Parian columns rise, And lends the cot its humble roof to me; He, on his throne, 'mid torturing anguish sighsI smile serene, and dream of bliss in thee. STANZAS Written on the following line from Chaucer: Again the month of Love has brought: But man kind Nature grants to, prove Through every month the power of Love; Hard is his heart that loveth nought. When first I saw her face, I thought"If aught on earth so angel bright "Can charm the soul to soft delight, "Hard is the heart that loveth nought." Torn from thy circling arms afar, To pine beneath the eastern star, As sad my lingering eyes I turn To see thee my departure mourn "Too dear thy love can ne'er be bought, "Sweet soul-1 sigh; thou ne'er shall rue; "I deem the heart that loves untrue "More hard than his that loveth nought." HORACE, ODE VII. BOOK II. IMITATED. To Mrs. W. Boscawen. THOU, who if Heav'n, that join'd our hands, And deem my heart thy home! Though youthful bloom be thine; Should age come on with rapid stride, What blest retreat shall we provide? Where soothe our life's decline? Whichwood, in thy romantic shades, Thy breezy lawns, sequester'd shades, My youthful hours were blest! In thy blest scenes, remote from strife From public cares, and busy life, My peaceful age should rest. But this our wayward lot denies : Then let us turn our anxious eyes (Where late we joyed to rove) Dear chosen spot; where sheltered vales When wint'ry tempests blow, There social bliss, when hearts unite, There, when the vital spark decays, And, if beside my couch she stand, THE BIRCH. Should darkness Egyptian, or ignorance, spread Disperses the clouds and restores us to light. brain. Should Genius a captive by Sloth be confined, Apply but this magical wand-with a stroke And if Morpheus our temples in Lethe should Ye Worthies, in trust for the School and the These switches untie all the fetters of sleep. Church, Pray hear me descant on the Virtues of Birch. of the grove, An emblem of pow'r, and the favorite of Jove; Though Phoebus with Laurel his temples have bound, And with chaplets of Poplar Alcides be crown'd; And mother Cybele in Pines may rejoice; Revered by each School, and remembered at Though Virgil's fam'd tree may produce, as its A crop of vain dreams, and strange whims from each shoot; Yet the Birch on each bough, on the top of each switch, Bears the essence of Grammar, the eight parts of speech. 'Mongst the leaves is conceal'd more than me THE sailor o'er the ocean borne, Thus, tost on love's tempestuous sea, |