be possible, let the picture give out the rule, and its horizontal line direct. Take the fine Claudes in the National Gallery; let each be in its own room, regulate the light, and let them be hung with the eye of the spectator seated (for there is something in that quiet continuous position) upon the horizon; and what magic would there be in the sunset! - all the lines would verge to their proper perspective-the illusion would be complete. You may be sure that Claude so looked at his pictures on his easel; and we scarcely do him justice, in hanging them as those wonderful marine pieces are now hung. We have often been struck with the insignificant appearance of pictures, whose beauty and value were previously well known, when we have seen them raised in the auctioneer's stand; and have been surprised that some better contrivance for exhibiting them had not been adopted. Pictures, like other beauties, should "stoop to conquer." It may be said that these hints may be well thrown out when the pictures are first collected, and the gallery then to be built, but of little practical use before any collection is formed. There is some truth in this, but of less force than might at first be imagined. It would not be very difficult to calculate the different dimensions of pictures likely to form a collection; and single rooms may accordingly be arranged of every variety of size-afterwards, adaptation could not be very difficult. That such arrangements would require great architectural skill we are quite aware; but" Ne sutor ultra crepidam," we are not architects. Nearly all these observations will apply likewise to a statue-gallery. We have never yet seen one perfectly satisfactory: neither the Apollo Belvidere, nor the Venus de Medicis are well lodged. Some seem to think statues are to be put in niches, as if walls had eyes, and could admire: but a statue should be seen all round; indeed, if possible, it should be so movable as to be raised or lowered; it should be capable of being viewed in every possible positionthen would one statue be made, as it were, so many pictures. To fix a statue, so that you may walk round it, will not be enough, unless you have the power of varying the lights, so that they should come from any direction. Take that beautiful frieze of the Elgin Marbles; let the light come from behind the figures, and the horsemen seem chasing their own shadows; let the light come from the opposite direction, and how the speed is increased by the shadows thrown behind them! They are different things: let the light be above them-then beneath them-what variety! and as every form is in itself beautiful, and as the complication of forms is throughout beautiful, so by varying the power pow of viewing them, you multiply beauties to the eye, which, though they existed, and must exist, in the art, were lost to the spectator who had but the power of one light. The endless variety of position in which statues may be viewed, renders attention to lights in statue-galleries even more important than in picture-galleries. The painter, in a great degree, determines his own light and shade, and one character of it; the sculptor no less attends to light and shade in attending to the roundness, the massiveness, and largeness, or the contrary, of the parts; but in so doing is unlimited, and thus in making one makes many statues the painter makes but one picture. The University having determined to erect picture and statue galleries, the next consideration is-how are they to be filled, and to what purpose if they are filled? We will assume that the University see the advantages of connecting the arts with literature. The advantages are indeed many. But as the advantages must be supposed to arise from the really fine things these galleries are to hold, we should wish to know what works the University at present possess, available, and what means of acquiring others. We are not aware that the University have any of much merit in possession, nor even that the colleges, could they contribute what they have, could supply largely. To purchase, would, we fear, require larger funds than could be raised. Something may be acquired, in the course of time, by liberal bequests, and perhaps this is the only source to be much relied upon. There can be no doubt but that the probability of ultimately possessing a fine gallery, will greatly depend upon the interest first excited upon the subject; and to create this interest a very inexpensive beginning may suffice. Let a portion of the building be set apart for prints and casts they are easily obtained, and will serve well the purpose of general lectures upon art. And this leads directly to the use to which such galleries may be applied. There should be at least one professorship of painting and sculpture in the University. Lectures ought to be publicly given. We are aware that there is here a great difficulty. From what funds can such a professorship be maintained? Why may we not look to the generosity of wealthy men, edu cated at Oxford, who are likewise lovers of art, for a liberal donation for this purpose? Let us consider what amount would be necessary-we want not large funds. The professorship would confer honour, and would be an object of high ambition. It would mainly exalt the rank and dignity of art; but it would impose important duties, much devotion of time and abilities, and therefore, like other professorships, should have something of honour substantial besides the name attached to it. What, then, would be a competent endowment? To reply to that question we should ascertain the duties. We would have no term pass without lectures. The professor should have rooms, perhaps, for practical illustrations; it would therefore be desirable that he should have a residence in the building. With this extended beneficent view, the endowment should be liberal. But let us take it at its lowest-supposing that additional lectures may be assisted by gratuities from attendants. Suppose the duties attached to the endowment to be limited to one course of lectures in the year; in that case, one hundred pounds per annum might be sufficient. The last instituted professorship was that of Political Economy, by H. Drummond, Esq., with one hundred pounds a-year; the duties being, to deliver a definite number of lectures in the year, and to publish certain of them. It is holden only for five years. The professorship of Moral Philosophy is founded also with the same endow ment; and that of Anglo-Saxon Lite rature with somewhat more. The professorship of Ancient History, instituted by Camden, is worth only one hundred and twenty pounds ayear-there is none, perhaps, more efficient; the professor delivers a course at least twice in the year, and has generally above one hundred persons in his class. The professorship of Experimental Philosophy is worth about one hundred and thirty pounds a-year-the course of lectures is well attended. This professor, and some others, not all, receive a sum of one or two pounds from each person attending. The practice of receiving a fee is seemingly optional, and not founded upon any principle. If the professorship of Painting were two hundred pounds per annum, it might be thought proper that no fee should be required; but if less, it might be desirable. If, then, one hundred pounds would endow a professorship of painting and sculpture, (for we suppose we must at present take them together,) and if two hundred pounds would be a handsome endowment, we would not think so ill of the lovers and patrons of art and of literature as to suppose, that such an endowment as the largest might not be easily raised if the thing were properly taken up. Many may not wish to come forward, under an impression that the University are adverse to such an endowment, thinking that, were it not so, a professorship of the kind would have been established long ago: but the public should know that the case is quite otherwise. It should be known that all, or very nearly all the funds of the University are appropriated to their several purposes, and that the University, as trustee, has only to distribute them. The University has no means of founding a readership. A few years ago, some members, wishing to promote the study of mathematics, exerted themselves to obtain subscriptions in order to found exhibitions for that purpose; and recently (last year) the University restored some funds which had been applied to other purposes for the endowment of a professorship of Logic. Even these funds the University has obtained by a tax upon their own members. It is, therefore, from inability, and not from disinclination on the part of the University, that such a professorship has not been established. Let this be well knownsome leading persons in or out of the University take an active interest in the matter, and we entertain little fear. Such an endowment would do great honour. There are many individuals to whom the amount would be no object were subscriptions resorted to, surely the sum would be easily raised; or why should it be hopeless to obtain a grant for the purpose, by petition to Parliament through the University member? There are no politics in this, and one would hope there would be but little opposition. This is not the first time that we have urged this upon the public notice; and we cannot now resist the temptation, offered by the intention of the University immediately to build galleries, again to excite the public attention to the subject. Should we have to encounter the jealousy of the Royal Academy? We think not. The "liberal arts" should engender a generous wish for extension for diffusion of the best principles of taste. There is no place so fit as our Universities for their establish ment. The advantages are too numerous to mention. Besides the immediate connexion of the arts with literature, especially with the Greek, of which they are the very soul for all Greek poetry is picture, vivid, distinct, and particular-besides the relish, and taste, and elucidation, which literature and the arts would lend to each other, and thereby render the grace of education perfect, we do think that the endowment of a professorship, with galleries and facilities of giving effective lectures, would be the means of rescuing many from idleness, and its usual accompaniments dissipation and ruinous expenditure. It would engender a taste where none existed, and by making one study at least agreeable, lead to a habit of study and of thought, and to a desire, through taste, of intellectual improvement. It would be the means of providing, not a mere light and passing pleasure, but a passion for life. We have ourselves induced some young men, upon entering on life, to take up painting as an amusement, and they have expressed unbounded gratification from the pursuit. It is one that makes the dullest days-the days that are heavy to the listless idler-days of busy delight. But it is not our purpose to eulogize the art; there is little need. We would only most earnestly recommend the endowment of professorships at both our Universities. A few words might be said upon the choice of professors; and here we expect that many (perhaps the general opinion) will not agree with our view, A friend to whom we have proposed the plan, states as a first difficulty, that "no endowment would be sufficient to keep away from London a painter of first-rate eminence: for though we might meet with an ac.. complished amateur, whose talents and reputation might secure ample credit to such an appointment; yet we should ordinarily, perhaps, have to look to a professional artist, who, however excellent in his own department, might be wanting in literary attainments to give effect, or even secure attention, to a course of lectures. Much, indeed, could be done, were a first-rate person merely to deliver once a-year, in the University of Oxford, a series of lectures, having his usual residence still in London." We cannot in any way agree with our able friend. For though we are satisfied that he very much underrates the literary attainments of artists, for the proof of whose attainments we need but refer to the lectures of Reynolds, Fuseli, Barry, and Phillips, we very much doubt if it would be desirable to look for professors to the quarter he recommends. It may seem very strange, but it has been very often observed by those most conversant with the arts, that professional painters are not the best judges of works of art. There may be many reasons given for this: perhaps the truest is, that art has an unlimited scope; the artist a limited scope. He chooses but one field in which to spend his days-to which to devote all his time and genius. To this particular walk he is partial-his whole thought is directed to one practice. If high finish, laborious execution be his taste, he will but badly understand the dash and vigour of another school. We should not value the criticism of a Denner upon Michael Angelo. The eye of a Wynantz would be but ill tutored for the wild and more general beauties of Salvator Rosa. Nay, not even a Claude, perhaps, would be quite qualified to see the beauties of a grander and more free pencil. Artists there are, without doubt, so gifted by nature and study with such an exquisite sense, that they are in all perceptions of taste superior to the rest of mankind, and are without the necessity of divesting their minds of their own practice, and have an immediate perception of all beauties within the range of art. But the gift is rare-much more so than may be generally imagined. We should almost go the length of saying, that professional artists should not be selected. If they were, it would be but a transfer of lectures from the Academy to the University. A professor of this class would not be sufficiently free from his own academical connexion and bias. The University would require one who could point out existing errors, and deviations from the true principles of taste, and more particularly, one versed in general criticism and literature of the most poetical class. He should have had the advantages of an academical education, and be a Master of Arts of one of the Universities. It may be said that still a practical knowledge would be desirable. Certainly it would, to a certain extent; but we by no means think it necessary. Take away all the technicality of the art from the discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and they would still contain principles of taste which would improve the general scholar, though he never contemplated the handling a pencil. It is a great thing to learn to see and to feel the beauties of nature, taking nature here in its largest signification. Without any technical knowledge whatever, the otherwise well-educated man is already half an artist. And we will venture to affirm, that an artist who aims at rising in his profession by studies confined to the technical and practical part of it, is greatly mistaken it is the mind that should direct the hand. It is the mind that should be cultivated, enlarged, and purified-schooled to discard all that is low, mean, and trifling, and to be above all vulgar enticements. Practice may then be well directed, and the mechanical labour will be, comparatively speaking, of easy acquirement, comparatively easy still, "nulla dies sine linea." There are few artists that in their practice have not as much to unlearn as to learn. Most practise too much, before they have acquired any sure principles-before they have qualified the imagination and the judgment to direct the hand. Hence the mere imitation of more obvious nature, or flashy unmeaning effects, is in our own school too often substituted for design and poetical conception. Professorships once established, there would be no lack of teachers of the practical part of the art, to initiate the students in the craft and mystery of mixing colours, and of using the pencil; though we do not see why it should be taken for granted that a professor such as we have described should not likewise have sufficient knowledge to give much practical instruction. We have known many unprofessional gentlemen perfectly qualified-many, as the term is, amateurs, who, by scholarship and knowledge of and devotion to the arts, are competent to lecture, and indeed fulfil all the duties that may be reasonably required, and whose fitness, we verily believe, would be acknowledged by the best professional artists. We leave the subject, being unwilling to go to greater length than may serve the purpose, to the best of our power, of directing the public attention to the subject-more particularly the attention of the patrons of art in general -as we think a field is open to them, both of raising art to its proper station and dignity, and of elevating the minds of our academical students-of supplying a worthy pursuit where one is most needed, and of rescuing them from idleness, dissipation, and the woeful consequences too often felt through life. If this opportunity be not seized in any other quarter, we earnestly entreat the influential members of the Universities to take themselves such measures as may publicly bring forward the advantages to be attained by the endowment of professorships of painting and sculpture in those ancient seats of learning. NO. CCXCIII. VOL, XLVII. 2 A WAR WITH CHINA, AND THE OPIUM QUESTION. "WHAT great events from little causes spring," was never exemplified in a broader light, or on a grander scale, in the history of the world, than at this moment. The mightiest as the most ancient of empires, has yoked its destinies with a fiscal question and a pretence of morals, and the fate or fortunes of three hundred millions of people, concentrated under one and the same rule, have become vitally entangled with an issue of money damage, of which somewhere about three hundred millions sterling is the amount recited in the declaration, apart the costs of judgment, execution, and example. The grandeur of the sum may seem of itself almost a stake large enough to warrant the strife of empires; but magnificent as the scale in which conceived, never was public robbery perpetrated under circumstances attendant of fraud, falsehood, cowardice, and treachery, more revolting. For China, therefore, the die is cast-for external war develops internal revolution. The seeds of revolution, once sown, may germinate but too rapidly; and the fabric of an empire, of proportions so unwieldy and almost unmanageable already, may stagger under the first shock from without, until finally, in years not far distant, after a succession of external assaults and convulsions within, which must surely follow upon the first patent exhibition of the overgrown weakness by which they are invited, it dissolves into a thousand detached portions, parceled out among ravenous competitors for the spoil, attracted from afar, like vultures by the instinct of prey, to the carrion carcass of the once mighty, but fallen. During the progress of ages, numberless are the nations which have appeared, which have flamed out their meteor course, and then have been effaced so fully as not to "leave a wreck behind" of all their greatness, save as a dream of history. Invincible conquerors have swept over the earth, and the revolutions of empires have almost kept pace with those on its own axis; once in each thousand years the great map of the world has had to be refaced, and geography reconstructed with names, and nations, and demarcations before unknown and undreamt of, whilst the old nomenclature is consigned to the musty records of the things that were; but in all this "wreck of matter and crash of worlds," the Chinese empire alone has stood firm, immovable, permanent, for thousands of years-scarcely ruffled by dynastic changes, giving the law even to its Mantchew Emperors, who wisely merged the claims of conquest in those of adoption, and sank their own nationality in that of the vast country, pure, homogeneous, unmixed, and uncontaminated alone of all the earth in its people and lineage. Let us take classic Asia, as delineated by D'Anville or any other geographer; and we shall find, on comparison with the more recent maps of that quarter of the globe by other geographers, that scarcely has a single place or territory retained its denomination excepting China: and not of Asia alone may this be said. Where are the powerful red tribes, which once figured with local habitation and a name on the maps of North America? Where the gallant Saracens, who sustained the renown of the Caliphate of Haroun el Rashid, who carried conquest, chivalry, and civilisation from Asia to Africa, and from Africa to Spain? In the modern atlas we search for them in vain; whilst China alone remains the stereotyped impression of every map, and the enduring monument of every age. She alone substantially connects all the varicus and ever-varying phases of the past with the present, from all time unchanging, as still unchanged herself, amidst change and revolution all around her. But the day may come when the empire boasting its thousands of years shall reach the term of its immortality-when, invulnerable on all points but one, like the Grecian, on that point a formidable and outraged power shall press and inflict the first wound a wound which, once open, will become the standing sore for future mark by one or other foe or rival, until a final break-up of the system be accomplished. The cackling of geese once saved an empire; the incident, almost as trivial, of opium-smoking or eating, instead of |