who held it was, as it were, a feudal king. By-the-bye, it is reported," that its architect was a priest, no bad judge of buildings, it should seem; though the priests of former times were our best architects, as witness the noble remains of their skill not only here, but throughout all Europe, unrivalled and unequalled to the present hour. But I must return to my breakfast, or we shall not reach Dover before night. Allons!-Having breakfasted, we started like " giants refreshed," and changed horses again at the Rose and Crown, Sittingbourn; again at Canterbury; and by five o'clock arrived at La Ville de Londres, in Dover: ordered dinner, and sent a note for Mr. Mann, who had formerly been lieutenant of the Etna, under my command, and was residing there en attendant. Strolled about the town, and viewed the Castle, harbour, cliffs, &c. Thought upon Shakespear, and his beautiful description of the cliff, so justly honoured with his name. Bought Sterne's Sentimental Journey, by way of a refresher to my memory; and then to dinner, "with what appetite you may :" and our ride had made ours pretty tolerable, as the landlord can testify. After dinner Mr. Mann joined us; in the evening walked with him on the pier, talking over our former adventures together, until the wind and rain (for the clouds had gathered, and the weather changed from its morning brightness, to gloom and drizzle), forced us to seek shelter. We were sorry to find all the packets on the other side. However, as luck would have it, a vessel arrived from Boulogne, the master of which agreed with Affleck, to sail for that place the next morning, at daylight. That affair being arrange to our minds, away to bed.-Je vous souhaite le bon soir; or, in plain English, "Good night!"

Next morning (Friday, the 16th, proved cold and windy, with a sharp rain. Up by five; and by six were on board the Three Friends, William Merriton, master, sailing out of Dover Pier, and no sooner out, but found it blowing very hard at W. S. W. with an ugly sea. However, we stood over upon a wind, in the hope that as the day advanced, the weather would change, and the wind abate, but were greatly disappointed on finding the wind increase, as the day grew older, so much so, that by noon, we were close reefed with storm jib, &c., and even that almost too much for us, so we were obliged to bear up for Calais; but being rather early for the tide, we lay to about a league to windward of the harbour, tumbling about in a hollow sea; and your two humble servants, Mentor and Telemachus, like two sick girls. Hear it not, ye gods? for you must know, my dear friend, that a sailor who is accustomed to plenty of sea-room, and long stretches of wave, becomes as bad as a cockney in a narrow strait, with a short baffling

sea.

The difference between the two being something like that (in comparison) between the short trot of a pony, and the noble gallop of an Arab. At half-past one o'clock we pushed for the harbour, the wind having now increased to a downright gale, which made us apprehensive for the mast, when we came to haul the wind, but there was no alternative-carry sail and get in, or lose the mast and founder; a horn of the dilemma not quite so pleasant to persons who were easy and comfortable in every other respect. Fortunately for us, we got hold of the other horn, and by two o'clock our feet were placed on Calais Quay. "Pas mal d'etre ici!" said I to Mentor. 66 'Vous avez raison," said he, to Telémachus. Still we were wet, cold, and comfortless, and both looking like knights of the rueful

countenance.

However, we were not long in gaining my favourite Sterne's acquaintance's hotel; and glad were my eyes to see Monsieur Dessein, though he returned but half the compliment (having but one, and faith that's a piercer, as Mentor's pocket can bear witness, ou il a fait ses recherches). "Ah! Monsieur Déssein soulagez nous !"-"Nous avons froid." "A votre service, Messieurs."-" Du feu une soupe "Du vin de Bourgoigne." Qu'on le depeche-allons vite!" Each of these orders were met by bows and scrapes on the part of Monsieur, in the midst of which a gentleman in an English general's uniform, came into the yard. Affleck, who immediately recognised an old friend, General Coote, hastened to meet

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THE WATER-COLOUR SOCIETY.

241

him, and after a hearty mutual embrace, the general told him he was going to set down to dinner in an hour, which he begged he would partake of, and bring his friend along with him. Accordingly, I was introduced to the General, Major Dow, the historian of Hindostan, and Captain Thomson, the General's aid-de-camp; all these just arrived from the East Indies, chiefly over land.

As I had but a short time to look about me, I cannot give you any very particular account of this ancient town, which has so many associations with our history; for who can forget the memorable siege of it by the brave Edward the Third; the gallantry of Eustace de St. Pierre, and his five companions, who the king had resolved to hang up for their obstinate resistance to his power; or the benevolence of the Queen Philippa, who interceded for, and saved them.

The Cathedral is a massy Gothic building, in its simplest form; I had but time to look upon its exterior. The Town Hall is in the Place d'Armes, and an object to strike the eye of every traveller, as it stands directly in your road from the pier to the hotel. In short, the whole town looks like a place that has been of note in its time; the Key (as it was called in former days) of France; and to hold which Key, many a serious conflict has been fought by our earlier kings. Mary the First, of England, was so chagrined at its loss during her reign, that she is reported to have exclaimed, After her death they would find 'Calais' engraved upon her heart." But I must now return to Mentor and my dinner, which was a very good one; and the wine pas mauvais-while an excellent wood fire blazed in the spacious chimney. So that by four o'clock, what with the kindness of the general, and the attentions of the ever-polite Monsieur Dessein, Mentor and myself had as totally forgotten our fatigue and danger, as though they had never been.

About five o'clock the Prince of Croix, Governor of Calais (having heard of the General's arrival) came to pay him a visit of respect, and a very sensible, well-bred little gentleman he was; somewhere about sixty years of age. A great lover of mathematics and natural history, on which he told us he had written some volumes. He brought with him a map of the world, and Bougainville's Journal, over which we chatted near a couple of hours. He then left us with offers of his service, and we all sallied forth to take a view of the town.

It was fortunate for me, that I had taken a cursory view before dinner; for the weather proved so unfavourable, that after passing through a few of the streets, and seeing the gate which Hogarth has immortalized in his admirable picture, we were glad to return to our lodgings; spent the eveuing and supped together, and were most agreeably entertained by the General with an account of his journey over the Desarts

"Wherein of waters vast, and desarts wild,

Rough quarries, rocks, and hills, whose heads touch heav'n,
It was his hint to speak."

At eleven o'clock took leave, and to bed for early rising; our apartments on the ground floor; but very excellent beds.

Ever yours, faithfully,

ON THE WATER COLOUR EXHIBITION,

PALL MALL EAST.

BY AN

AMATEUR.

H. P.

In our youthful days, about the year 1805, we had the pleasure of visiting the first exhibition of the Society of Painters in Water Colours, at their rooms,

NO. VI. VOL. I.

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Brook-street. From that period to the present, we have witnessed with delight their progressive improvement, and seen with increased zest every succeeding exhibition. We have as periodically looked for the opening of their rooms, in anticipation of renewed pleasure, as we have hailed the return of spring on the blossoming of the cowslip, the carrolling of the lark, and the song of the cuckoo. The establishment of this society has not only formed a most auspicious æra in British art, by proving that water colour drawings can vie with oil paintings, in depth of tone, beauty of colouring, and brilliancy of effect; but it has had the merit of extending the love of at; and water colour drawings (les aquarelles) are now eagerly sought after in every part of civilized Europe.

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The founders of this society, were Shelly, the miniature painter; Wells, a landscape draughtsman; Pyne, author of the Microcosm and Hills, the animal painter. Considering the great service this society has rendered to British art, by infusing a love of nature, and of native talent; we hope and trust, that in the National Gallery, a room will be appropriated to contain a selection of the talented productions of the Water Colour Painters of Great Britain, and that portraits of the four founders will decorate the walls of the apartment, and thus be deservedly banded down to posterity, as public benefactors.

Two only of the founders survive; Pyne, a most talented writer as well as painter, and Robert Hills. With the works of the latter gentleman (the only founder, now a member of the society) we shall commence our critical notice, thinking, in that respect, he is entitled to priority. Mr. Hills is one of the few, amongst our cattle painters, who understands the anatomy of the animal; and in this respect we really consider him superior to Paul Potter or Berghem. No. 39, Cattle on a Road, sunset" is a delightful transcript of nature, the cattle are most admirably grouped and beautifully coloured, and the effect of the stormy sunset, is equal to any thing of Barret. Mr. Hills is a follower of the sound advice of Sir Joshua Reynolds, for he always does his best, and we cannot but regret, that the public do not sufficiently appreciate the great pains he takes with the accessaries; in his drawings there is no plastering to produce effect, all is well done. No. 45, "Stags;" No. 53 "Mill at Gommershall, Surrey;" 92, "Roebuck;" 98, "Cattle, sunset;" 247, "Barn, near St. Helier's, Jersey;" 254, “Oak in Knowle Park;" 259, "Fallow Deer;" 293, Farm Yard, near Harrow;" and 332, "Mountain Scenery, with Cattle," are all good; particularly No. 332, which possesses all the excellencies of this pains-taking and highly talented artist.

Our old favourites, Cox and De Wint, ever bring before us the unsophisticated charms of English scenery. These gentlemen, though treading the same path, see with their own eyes and depict with their own pencils. It has always appeared to us that Cox has more versatility of talent than his able compeer, though we cannot help thinking that the figures of De Wint, particularly his reapers, are superior to those of any other artist. In 21, "Crummock Water, with a coin-field in the fore ground," we have the fine old sturdy English peasantry; they almost appear to move in following their daily labours. 26, a Hayfield is true to nature. 41, View of Lincoln, from Washingborough, is a glorious landscape. 48, Hoar Frost, at Castle Rising, Norfolk, made us shiver while looking at it; as did the Snow-storm, No. 108. Some years since we remember the "Lancaster Sands," a large drawing by this gentleman, which, in our opinion has never been equalled. No 30, by Cox, a Mountain Road, Infantry on their march, is a grand drawing; the figures are excellent. Nos. 138, 139, 142, are charming bits of true English landscape; as are 151, a Heath scene, and 152, Goodrich Castle. 161, Windsor Castle, morning, is extremely beautiful. 188, Market people crossing Lancaster Sands, has all the mistiness of nature. 302, "Lancaster Sands," evening, possesses, in a very high degree, all that is excellent in landscape composition.

Mr. Copley Fielding has some charming productions. No. 61, View from Bow Hill, near Chichester, brings before us the downs of Sussex. 65,

Loch Acray, is very beautiful. 78, The Fairy Lake, too much reminds us of the Enchanted Island, by Danby; highly as we admire Mr. Fielding's landscapes, we regret to see his figures so flimsy-we want the square manly figures of Cox and De Wint.

Our

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Barrett, whose " Curfew tolls the knell of parting day," is ever present to imagination, has some delightful pictures, particularly No. 121, English Pastoral, which is so like sunshine that we saw a gentleman put his hand before his eyes-Claude was never paid so high a compliment.

John Byrne, the son of William Byrne, one of the best landscape engravers this country can boast of, has some charming drawings. 32, Atranto, near Amalfi, is excellent. 75, Pont Neuf, with part of l'ile du Palais, Paris, reminds us of the best time of Girtin. 110, The Italian Goatherd; 165, Gonzano on the Lake of Nemi; and 226, Group of Italian Peasants, will, we hope, make this gentleman what his high talents and pains-taking entitle him to be, a member, not merely an associate. We shall ever remember a large drawing of Twickenham, with cows in the water, exhibited a few years since; we considered it one, of the finest drawings ever made, and regretted that our scanty means would not allow us to purchase it. We miss the wondrous flower-pieces of this gentleman's highly-gifted sister-her compositions were equal to those of Baptiste.

W. Turner, of Oxford, is true to nature, though somewhat too strong in the outline, and somewhat too fond of a glaring green; we wish he had some of the atmosphere of his inspired namesake. No. 106 is awfully sublime; so is 224, Scene on Otmoor; and 236, The River Cherwell; the water-lilies are the flowers themselves; the kingfisher, whose weight bends the reed on which he is perched, seems to be admiring them. This drawing would be perfect were the trees not so green, and more, more atmosphere.

Nesfield possesses talents of no ordinary stamp. No. 5, On Loch Leven, is really warm with the sun; the figures are just what figures ought to be. 33, Insulated Rock on the Tumel, is as terrific as Fuseli would have painted had he been a landscape painter. 158, Chatsworth Park, is the place itself; the deer are most admirable. We should like to see a drawing by this gentleman as large as No. 37, The Raft, by Bently, who has prodigiously improved since the last exhibition.

Evans, whose father many on Etonian remembers with delight, is an artist of the first-rate excellence. In No. 25, Scene in the Joyce country, is very beautiful; his figures are not sufficiently rustic, they have too much of the blarney of gentility about them. 73, Between Achill and Newport is admirable, it is quite up to the mark. We remember, some five-andtwenty years since, an artist of the name of Evans, whose landscapes we greatly admired, who turned portrait painter; are we to use the relative case in this instance, and say par nobile frartum?

Frederick Nash has wonderfully progressed; his Windsor Castle, from Clewer, No. 85, is true to nature, as is 95, Windsor Castle, from Slough. 100, Carnarvon Castle, Twilight, is quite a bijou. 131, Windsor Castle, and the Brocas Clump, morning, is freshness itself; and 176, Rivaulx Abbey, Twilight, the knell of parting day, is before us.

No. 174, Venice, by Harding, is indeed grand, worthy to be the residence of its merchant princes.

t

Prout has several drawings, all good; 72, Bridge of Sighs, Venice, is particularly excellent. n

John Varley is himself again. No. 86, Mountainous Scenery, is a magnificent production: we were inclined to write under it, Joannes Redivivus. May this talented artist ever in future paint under so favourable a conjunction of planetary influences.

Joshua Cristall, whose Arcadian Landscapes and figures the departed Stothard so greatly admired, has some marvellous drawings. No. 56, Market-dy, is native simplicity-not merely pretty features, but an union of

kind

above

heartedness and intelligence; how we regretted that the price was our mark. 112, Girls ascending the side of Snowdon, possesses all

the excellencies of this great man-a romantic landscape, true to nature, with figures simply graceful.

As a marine painter, Chambers is unrivalled. No. 230, The Victory breaking the line, Battle of Trafalgar, ought to be placed in the National Hall of Greenwich Hospital. In No. 29, Rotterdam, the water is wonderfully transparent.

We have ever considered Finch a man of first-rate ability. No. 178, An Ancient Tomb, is poetically beautiful; we wish this gentleman would exert his talents on a larger scale-Cicero at his villa, we think would just suit him.

Gastineau, is a pains-taking and improving artist. 31, Pille Priory, Pembrokeshire; and 52, Kynance Cove, Cornwall, possess some of the highest requisites of art. We congratulate the Society in having Holland among their associates; we remember a picture by him of a chateau, in Paris, equal to any production of Bonnington, 18, Venice, evening; 125, St. Georgio de Greci, Venice; 173, Acrolo, pass of St. Gothard, are most talented performances.

Thales Fielding is a rising artist. 116, Cattle, with a distant view of Greenwich Hospital, is most admirable, so are 132, Cattle, with distant view of Plumstead Church, and 181, Cattle, with a distant view of Snowdon.

We regret seeing none by our favourite Cotman; we hope that his professorship at King's College, does not occupy so much of his time as to prevent him from gratifying the public.

As a painter of fruit and flowers, the drawings of Bartholomew are extremely correct and beautiful. No. 215, Dahlias, and 183, Fruit, are the objects themselves. We shall never forget his Sparrow's Nest of last year.

The Trumpeter, by F. Taylor, is very talented, as are 115, Sportsmen going to the Moors, and 170, Highland Pastoral. We wish Mr. Taylor would look to the cattle of Hills, and give us a little more finish.

In speaking of the figure painters, as in duty bound, we shall begin with the ladies. Mrs. Seyforth and her sister, Miss Sharpe, have some beautifully high finished productions, as No. 191, an Evening in Miss Stewart's Apartments; 209, the Soldier's Widow; 212, by Miss Sharpe, from Miss Edgeworth's "Madame de Fleury," are wrought up with all the care of miniature painting. We hope not to be considered ungallant in recommending these ladies to look to the intellectual gentlemen and ladies in the productions of the great Stothard; in his procession of the Flitch of Bacon, for instance, they are not male and female dandies, not merely pretty faces, but soul breathing countenances, where mind breaks forth from under its covering of skin and muscle.

In the exhibition at Exeter Hall, is a Roman Peasant with Flowers, by Fanny Corbeaux (we cannot Miss this lady, she is too great to be missed), which possesses all the excellencies we have been recommending.

Hunt is not only an admirable figure painter, but he can piaint anything that is before him, andso true are his pictures, that the vraisemblance of the object is before you, whether it be the human form divine, a bird,s nest, a bunch of grapes, an interior, an old tree, the rags of a beggar, or the highest work of art, devotion, the creature addressing the Creator. Mr. Hunt is a most extraordinary man, he is, indeed, an omniologist.

No. 1, An Oak Tree, near Guildford, is excellent. 4, and 6, a Cowhouse, and the Interior of a Kitchen, are the places themselves. You forget size, and imagine you have a cowhouse and a kitchen before you. 14, the Chapter-house, St. Mary's, Guildford, is a fine drawing; but we suspect the artist has been somewhat satirical in his figure of the priest, for, instead of our learned and excellent friend the worthy rector, Mr. Beloe, he has given a portly, well-fed gentleman, very like a mayor, after a corporation dinner. 62, Jim Crow, will live when his theatrical namesake is consigned to oblivion. No. 69, a Puffer, we hope will be purchased by Morrison, the pill merchant. 90, the Toilet, three gipsies, is a picture equal to any thing of Murillo. We congratulate the worthy citizen who has had the good taste to purchase it. 105, Piety, is above mere praise,