during his day in the academy, he mingled not in such bickerings, but maintained his ordinary tone and temper. This was not from education but from nature; he was born so, and it cost him no effort to practise it. "I never saw him so happy," said Lord Dover, "as when contemplating the works of Sir Joshua Reynolds; and he never lost an opportunity of purchasing his pictures, when, at a sale, the price came within his reach. In settling the prices of his own pictures, he was moderate even to generosity. The only difficulty I ever found with him was in persuading him to let me pay him for such works as he painted for me: he used to say, 'We will talk of that another time.' His knowledge and judgment of old pictures were considerable, and I bought several of those in my rooms by his advice. He had imbibed the purest taste in art from Sir George Beaumont, the best judge of pictures I ever remember. In private he could not be but beloved for his singleness of heart, and his simplicity and truth of mind; in all the relations, too, of domestic life, he was exemplary, which is not surprising, when we reflect that his actions were regulated by a fervent sense of religion."

As a painter, his chief merits were truth of character, and force of colour. In most of his portraits, however, he appears to have limited his views to an accurate image of the person; he is vigorous as far as flesh and blood give vigour, but neglects too much to inspire his heads with sentiment, or bestow upon them a visible capacity for thought; and it cannot be denied that he often has something of vulgarity about his vigour. He had uncommon readiness of hand-a rapid felicity in finishing: his colouring is deep and clear. Some continue to speak of him as the ablest of the express followers of Reynolds; I should rather say, judging him by his best works, such as will keep their fame hereafter, that, in expression, Jackson occupies a place between the ele

gant detail of Lawrence, and the manly generalities of Raeburn. In freedom and vigorous breadth of colour he more than approaches the first president of the academy.

LIVERSEEGE.

Or this painter a short account was written for "The Athenæum" by Miss Jewsbury, now Mrs. Fletcher; and another by another hand appears in the "Library of the Fine Arts." As both writers were acquainted with the artist, and show much taste and feeling, I have availed myself of their labours, adding all the original information I could obtain, and such remarks as seemed necessary.

Henry Liverseege was born at Manchester in the year 1803. The fine arts flourish most where wealth and knowledge abound: they are less heeded in places where men have to procure subsistence before they sacrifice to elegance. That Manchester, lately a village, but now a town with two members of parliament, encouraged as well as produced Liverseege, must be taken as a proof of increasing wealth, and growing taste. At first the fortunes of the painter were dark enough. He was born weak and deformed; and when he began to gain strength, the painful discovery was made, that his father disliked him, and treated him harshly. Of this cruel parent, it is said, "he could never speak without feelings of deep emotion; oftentimes with tears at the manner he had been treated by him-his cruelty and his neglect." Poverty has been assigned as the cause of i unnatural conduct: his father held a subordinate situatio in a cotton manufactory, and supported himself with difficulty: but poverty has usually

proved a kind and compassionate nurse, with whom weakness of body excites a warmer sympathy and a deeper love. We must set it down to deficiency of feeling. That he looked upon his helpless child with aversion, has not been denied, and must be recorded to the dishonour of human nature. The place of the father was supplied by the uncle, a person generous and kind, who brought the boy up, and watched over him with care, and even fondness. He was afflicted with an asthma from his cradle; and, besides being weak, he was not a little peevish. His temper, however, improved with his health, and all allowed him to be quick in comprehension, and desirous of knowledge.

The schoolmaster taught him to write, but he taught himself to draw. It was remarked, that a love of drawing grew upon him: he began soon to sketch heads and groups; he did this, he said, because he saw others do it: yet it was observed that he was solicitous to excel, and was never satisfied unless his attempts surpassed those of his companions. He was allowed to remain longer at school than usual, because of his weakness of body; but, when strong enough to be put to business, it was found that a love of painting had not only taken possession of his fancy, but that his uncle was resolved to indulge his inclinations. When he heard this he smiled, and it was observed from that day forward he was more cheerful, and that he looked to his benefacfor with a reverential fondness which time only served to strengthen and confirm.

Of the early studies of Liverseege little has been told us; nor is it, perhaps, important; for they were portraits, and chiefly remarkable only for that sort of staring Saracen-head style of likeness which common spirits deal in. Portraits, however, brought him employment and bread, and made him known in his native county. They taught him, too, to combat with difficulties of form and expression, and

prepared him for success in that dramatic style of painting by which he will be known to posterity. That he had talent suitable for what Barry contemptuously calls the art of " face painting," is more probable than that he had that nice tact and patient courtesy which the variable moods of querulous sitters require. He was quick-tempered and impetuous; a reader of looks, and an interpreter of signs; ready to take offence, and equally ready to be appeased. This touchy sensibility was not in the way of his dramatic compositions, but it was otherwise than welcome to that large portion of the community who think they confer a favour by sitting for their likenesses, and who look for submission and obedience at the hand of a painter. It would not be agreeable to one so sensitive as Liverseege to be obliged to bow his own judgment in form and colour to the dictum of those who had not made art their study. Tired, and perhaps disgusted, he forsook the field of portraiture for the wide realm of imagination.

His success in works of fancy was in the commencement otherwise than cheering. In the year 1827 he painted three small pictures representing banditti, and sent them to the Manchester exhibition. They were disposed of with difficulty, and at a small price. He was not, however, disheartened; he had found out where his strength lay; he had a strong perception of the pictorial qualities of poetry and romance; he loved, like Hogarth before him, to look on living life, and had some of that eminent artist's feeling for what was ludicrous and striking. The first work which stamped him as an original genius, was his picture of "Adam Woodcock," from Scott's Abbot, which was admired and purchased by Lord Wilton. This acknowledgment of his merit was the signal for the approbation of many who hesitated before. The painter began to be inquired after, and his studio visited, by persons willing to praise, if not