march was arrested by an apprehension of Russian interposition. Servian deputies appeared at the Congress of Vienna, and though the European powers generally looked on them with indifference, the ministers of Russia recalled to mind the peace of Bucharest, and interrogated the Porte respecting its infraction. The result was favorable to the Servians, and the authority of Milosch was gradually consolidated. One dark deed tarnished his fame. He informed the pacha, who still retained a limited jurisdiction, of the return of Kara George, and on being threatened with a renewal of hostilities, commanded Wuiza, with whom he was secreted, to send him his head. The command was obeyed, to the infinite disgrace of Milosch and his agents. Ambition probably instigated the deed, and the assassin hastened to reap its fruits. The revolt of Greece, by occupying the attention of the Porte, aided his policy, while the nominal supremacy ceded to it, soothed the pride of Turkey.

Had the Grand Signior's hands been free, unquestionably he would not so quietly have allowed the Gospodar of Servia to unite the entire public authority in his own person. Under existing circumstances, however, he could not but be satisfied that a chief ruled in the country who kept the people under strict control, and prevented their participating in such schemes as tended towards the complete overthrow of the Turkish empire. In his entire deportment, Milosch always observed the external semblance of obedience: he made no claim to absolute independence; and the sultan had no reason to apprehend that he would take part in any demonstration excited by the Hetaria. Milosch observed amongst the adherents and friends of Ypsilanti, some members of the former Servian government whom he had excluded: the followers of the brothers Tscharapitsh, whom he had recently expelled, were equally hostile to his administration and to that of the Ottomans.'p. 364.

We need not dwell on the revolutions which subsequently occurred. Milosch, like his predecessor, Kara George, was better qualified for the field of battle than the councilchamber. His notions of government had been formed under Turkish masters, and in the day of prosperity he consequently lost the goodwill which he had earned in the season of contest. He was compelled ultimately to resign, and his son, who succeeded him, did not long maintain his superiority. In June, 1843, Kara Georgewitsch, son of their most distinguished patriot, was chosen prince by the election of the nation, and continues at this time to rule over the people. He was born in 1806, and is represented as a young man of irreproachable

character, cheerful disposition, and agreeable manners.' The internal government of the country is entirely in the hands of the Servians, but the Turks still garrison Belgrade, which is the residence of a pacha, and a small annual tribute is paid to the Porte.

Much remains to be done before an enlightened observer can regard the condition of the people with complacency. Let us hope that their progress will be unchecked, and that the better knowledge of their condition, supplied to our countrymen by Mrs. Kerr's labours, will enable and dispose our rulers to exert their legitimate influence for their future welfare.

ART. VI.-Sketches of the History of Christian Art. By Lord Lindsay. London: John Murray.

THE English historical school of painting has till lately been somewhat unfortunate in its followers, or martyrs, as they have preferred being styled. These have but too generally been deficient as artists; their degree of proficiency in practice, has been very small. Barry and Fuseli were equally wanting in most of the essentials requisite to a great painter. Neither made nature the subject of their imitation. They readily consented to employ their time in futile controversies, in inveighing against the taste of their age, or in endeavouring to maintain the immeasureable superiority of the historic to all other styles. But they were totally devoid of steadiness of purpose, or earnestness of working, sufficient to constrain them to that close study of, and reliance on nature, by which alone the painter can achieve anything genuine or lasting. Consequently, as efforts of men of undeniable genius, theirs are among the most unsatisfactory of any that can be instanced. The creations of the one are heavy, incorrect, and generally deficient in beauty. Those of the other can scarcely, at times, be recognised, as shadowing forth aught approaching the human. By natural organization, both were lamentably deficient in a faculty for colour. This is a want which, by careful study, can be in some degree rectified, and rendered less apparent; though the animating feeling which guides a born colourist, can never be supplied. Such study, however, was by them neglected. Fuseli, indeed, with his usual arrogance, pretended to look down on colour, as beneath the

attention of a professor of the 'grand style;' thus nursing his failing, and rendering nugatory whatever sense of his own shortcoming he might, at times, be visited with, instead of at once firmly and honestly applying a corrective. In mind, neither of these painters was deficient. They were possessed of just so much as to render their insufficiency, as artists, the more conspicuous.

With none of the constitutional faults, so obvious in the other two, can West be charged. Though by nature gifted with no great genius for colour, nor, indeed, for any of the higher artistic requisites, yet by diligent improvement of such faculties as were inherent in him, he attained to sufficient excellence to render most of his works satisfactory pieces of painter's craft, and, not unseldom, pleasing. But the vital spirit is wanting to them. Its presence is never acknowledged by the intellect, never recognised by the heart. Excepting one or two of his least ambitious performances, such as the Death of Wolfe,' and the Battle of La Hogue,' where genius really is manifested, and which serve to indicate in what vein he ought ever to have worked, he never reaches us. We in general look at his productions as at a superior species of paperhangings, as correctly filled pieces of canvass, and as nothing more.

Northcote stands in the same class, only much lower. If West were deficient in imagination, Northcote was destitute of even ordinary powers of conception. He was a composer of the lowest grade, groping his way through a picture, and scarce seeing an inch before him.

Neither Hilton nor Etty, nor any of later date than these, can be considered as belonging to the genuine list of that ambitious race the English historical school, so full of soaring aspirations and proud pretensions, and, we must add, of very moderate performance. They have all sacrificed too much of the old assumed dignity of their predecessors, to be entitled in any sort to rank among them. We speak, of course, of men of real mark. Some few there are still, who follow in the steps of the bygone generation. Mr. Patten, for example, judging from the amount of canvass ordinarily occupied by him, and the air of pretension visible in his historical efforts (in his portraits he is a far truer artist), we should imagine to be one who, if classified at all, would fall under this head.

The last noteworthy, genuine representative of the old race, was Haydon. Infinitely superior in knowledge and power of design to Barry or Fuseli (as, indeed, to all his predecessors), he possessed a similar deficiency as to colour; this, indeed, from no lack of study or sound knowledge. His colouring, however, is in the last degree unsatisfactory. In all his pictures there exists

a total want of harmony in this respect. His figures are, for the most part, coloured after a most independent fashion, entirely irrespective of one another; something like the divisions of a geographic chart, or the sections of an anatomical plate: for distinction's sake. In his lectures, on the other hand, profound theoretical knowledge and appreciation of colour are displayed.

Throughout his writings, again, he manifests a most refined feeling for beauty. On his canvass, such is scarcely ever visible. So great was his abstract devotion to beauty, he even asserted that no picture can rightly demand or actually engage our entire sympathies, can be complete, which does not contain a beautiful woman; a sufficiently untenable proposition. It is one, moreover, were his own performances estimated by it, that would induce, we fear, the conclusion of there being but most limited room for sympathy in anything he ever did. We much doubt whether two really beautiful women could be collected from the whole range of his productions. His women are singularly free from this requisite. This absence of beauty is a characteristic not only of his women, but of his men. The same coarseness of feeling, or perhaps of brush, is shown throughout. His conceptions, on the other hand, are frequently fine; as, for instance, in the idea of the attitude and figure of Lazarus. action, too, like West's, is appropriate; his stories plainly told; with much more of character than West ever realized. Often, however, from the desire of making his characters forcible, he allowed them to verge on caricature. Almost always rather the characteristic is given, than any profound character.

His

Like that other famed filler of large canvass, West, Haydon's self-esteem was immoderate. No subject was too high for him, and his treatment of it was always satisfactory-to himself at any rate. West's self-esteem, however, was more quiet in its manifestation, displaying itself more on his canvasses than in his speech. It escaped from him; he did not obtrude it. Haydon, on the contrary, was ever ready from his youth upwards, to disclose to the world his high opinion of his own merits. This led to much of the opposition and neglect he had to encounter. For nothing does the world find more intolerably and inexcusably offensive, or punish more severely, than a violent obtrusion of self-esteem. But it also served as an animating principle of his life. It sustained him long; enabling him to overcome many a stubborn obstacle in his path, many a hard reverse. The slackening of this self-confidence, induced by the neglect of the Commission and the obstinate indifference of the public, has been by some assigned, as mainly instrumental towards his end.

The conclusion we are compelled to arrive at after reviewing the whole of his efforts in painting, the only comprehensively

correct criticism to be offered, is, that nature never designed him for a great painter. He was a man of considerable general genius; but unfortunately, its particular direction in the field of art was not so decided. He was endued with a deep natural love and appreciation of art, together with somewhat of natural artistic capability. And it was his peculiar misfortune he possessed thus much, with an exclusive leaning towards the 'grand historic' style, and little more. In adopting the particular course he did, we conceive him to have been fundamentally mistaken. Like many others, he interpreted the influence effected on him by a particular kind of excellence in others, as the power of originating such himself. As if, as Goethe says, 'from the fragrance of the flower, we were to attempt to reproduce the flower itself.'

There were many of the elements of greatness in Haydon : much decision of character, indomitable resolution, and unfailing powers of endurance. Of late years, there have been few sadder or more startling occurrences than his tragic death, preceded and induced as it was by successive disappointments. The few extracts from his diary, published in the newspapers, revealed an entire mournful history of continuous earnest struggles, resolutely maintained in a path originally chosen from a firm, honest, though mistaken belief in its being a right one-of long sustained endurance of disappointment and defeat; till at length, his mind's fresh hopefulness grew weak and faint, and the life-long struggle abruptly closed.

The great defect with all who have hitherto essayed to establish an English school of historical painting has been, that they have failed to perceive what was wanted of them. They have fondly gazed on the excellence achieved by the old Italian masters; and the sole conclusion they have seemed capable of deducing has been, that by simply imitating their predecessors and by pursuing the identically same course of action, similar results would follow. In this their fundamental mistake has consisted. For, had they been gifted with all the artistic qualifications they so often lacked, if they had even been the equals of their great fore-runners, they still would have utterly failed. It is not by such means a school of high art is at any time to be founded.

In vain, as Allan Cunningham has expressed it, in vain was it for Reynolds to preach of the 'grand style,' for Barry to rave about the restoration of historical painting, or West, on academic rules to fill with lofty subjects proportionately lofty canvass, or Fuseli to seek wild vent for his pseudo-imaginative aspirations. Their deeds kept no pace with their professions. The faith was not in them. They worked not from feeling and