[In regard to observations in the work of Lady B———— on paintings.] 66 Guercino, in my poor opinion, is very inferior to Guido, Domenichino, Ludovico, and Annibal Caracci, and another great painter (who, however, paints often badly), Cavedone.* One of the finest pictures in the Gallery at Bologna is by him. I stood a long time before it to recover from the Murder of the Innocents,' for this is too real. Most things are real with me except realities. 66 How very just is your remark on that picture in the Brera. That and the Cenci were both painted by some lady, perhaps the favorite scholar of Guido, but not in the time of a Cenci. Both are pleasing: neither is very admirable as a work of art. "In the Book of Beauty,' if I had not seen the verses of Miss Power (and beautiful ones they are) prefixed to the portrait of Miss Isabella Montgomery, nothing could ever have persuaded me that it is not Miss Power's. I doubt if any painter will produce so perfect a likeness of her. This is incomparably the most beautiful one in the whole volume. . . . I hope that, according to my orders, a copy of Fra Rupert' was sent for her to Gore House. "W. S. L." "August 28th, 1846. "Yesterday Colonel Jervis told me that Prince Louis Napoleon is here, and had done me the favor to mention me to-day; I will therefore leave my card at his hotel. . . . "I feel I am growing old for want of somebody to tell me (charming falsehood) that I am looking as young as ever. There is a vast deal of vital air in loving words. "Pray waft the breath of my earnest wishes and kindest remembrances round about all at Gore House. W. S. L." "November 23d, 1846. "On my return from Clifton, where I spent last week, I find on my table the Book of Beauty' and the 'Keepsake.' So anxious are some of my lady friends to read them, that I had only time to look at what came from the pen of those I most value and regard; but I could recognize in their new dresses the heroines of Byron's Burlington Arcade. Miss Garrow's exquisite poem was quoted in the Examiner.' Wonderful creature! pity that Byron did not live long enough to profit by her refined taste. I am too old to be a gainer by it; but it has been my fate, long before now, to be an admirer where I could be no gainer, luckless man! Are you quite resolved to close the 'Book of Beauty' forever? I am among the many who hope it may not be so. "W. S. L." * Cavedone, a great fresco painter, born in 1577, died in 1660.-R. R. M. "November, 1848. "I am beginning to read 'Sismondi on the Italian Republics.' It grieves me to think I never saw him while he was living near Pescia. He expressed to Miss Mackenzie and Mr. Hutton a great desire to know me. This is among the highest honors I have received in literature; for never was there an honester man, and seldom a wiser. It is only from such hands I could with complacency or pleasure receive distinctions. "And now he is gone, pure and true-hearted Sismondi! "I hope these horrible fogs, which make incursions even into our own Elysian fields, have spared you. I see the Duc de Guiche is gone to Lord Shrewsbury's to meet the Duc de Bordeaux. How much livelier at Gore House, where he did not seem a day older than his uncle, D'Orsay. Possibly you may never have seen the two articles I inclose. I inserted in the 'Examiner' another, deprecating the anxieties which a truly patriotic, and, in my opinion, a singularly wise man, was about to encounter in accepting the presidency of France. Necessity will compel him to assume the imperial power, to which the voice of the army and people will call him. "You know (who know not only my writings, but my heart) how little I care for station. I may therefore tell you safely that I feel a great interest, a great anxiety for the welfare of Louis Napoleon. I told him if ever he were again in a prison I would visit him there, but never, if he were upon a throne, would I come near him. He is the only man living who would adorn one; but thrones are my aversion and abhorrence. France, I fear, can exist in no other condition. Her public men are greatly more able than ours, but they have less integrity. Every Frenchman is by nature an intriguer. It was not always so, to the same extent; but nature is modified, and even changed, by circumstances. Even garden statues take their form from clay. "God protect the virtuous Louis Napoleon, and prolong, in happiness, the days of my dear, kind friend, Lady Blessington. W. S. L. "I wrote a short letter to the president, and not of congratulation. May he find many friends as disinterested and sincere." (No date.) "When I had written my letter, it came into my recollection that I had somewhere written a few verses to Miss Garrow. I have been able to recover a copy, not having kept one myself." TO THEODOSIA GARROW, WITH PERICLES AND ASPASIA. Let me conduct thy steps, apart, "No more beneath Pandion's walls To hear the Attic song again. "WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR." CHAPTER VII. JOHN FORSTER, ESQ. MR. FORSTER was born in Newcastle in 1812. He is indebted to the best of all patrons for his eminence in literature-his own sterling worth and talents, sound judgment, and solid understanding. The rarest and most advantageous of all combinations—the union of common sense and great intellectual endowmentsconstitutes the power and peculiarity of Mr. Forster's abilities alike in literature and journalism. One is reminded, by his lucid, plain, trenchant, and forcible style of writing, of Cobbett's best manner, with a large infusion into it of literary taste and scholarship. If Cobbett had been a man highly educated, with sensibility, and that delicacy of organization which is essential to the development of a taste for art, a love of poetry, a longing after excellence of every sort in nature, or beyond its realms, and it was possible for him, thus constituted, to have retained. his original, rough, intellectual vigor, his style would be found, perhaps, to bear a strong resemblance to that of Forster. If there be any thing to be desired in the latter, it is an admixture of vivacity of light wit and refined humor-to relieve the ponderous prose of subjects discussed with profound thought and gravity, and, when treated with irony, of too fine a sort for the generality of matte.-of-fact people to find out in it any thing bordering on a joke. Pascal made himself master of the minds of his readers, while he amused their imaginations-le veritable maître du cœur, sait faire rire l'esprit. A disciple of Lavater or Gall and Spurzheim could not encounter Forster in any society, or position in it, without being struck with his appearance, his broad and ample forehead, his massive features, his clear, intelligent eye, his firm, fixed, and solemn look, and expressiveness of lips and other features. When we are ushered into the presence of Forster, we feel at home in his company, and well assured of our safety in it. We find ourselves in the company of a man of high integrity and moral character-of an enlarged mind and of a generous nature. ens. His original pursuits have given to him an acuteness of intellect which enhances the value of his opinions on subjects wholly unconnected with those pursuits; hence, perhaps, to some extent, the unbounded confidence placed in his prudence, sagacity, and experience by several of the most eminent literary people of the day. Forster is the intimate friend of Landor and DickThe peculiar bent of his literary taste is the study of history, and his acquaintance with it is profound. The lessons thus derived from history, and his experience of professional and literary life conjoined, give a philosophical turn to his sentiments and social character. One who knows him well thus writes of his genial disposition: "He is not general in his friendships, but I have known him, in cases where his aid has been required, display a zeal and energy rarely surpassed, or, indeed, equaled, more especially in cases of literary men or their families when in distress." In December, 1836, Lady Blessington, writing to one of her correspondents, said, “I have made the acquaintance of Mr. Forster, and like him exceedingly; he is very clever, and, what is better, very noble-minded." The principal works of Forster are "The Statesmen of the Commonwealth,"* and the "Life of Goldsmith"-the latter a performance of great merit, remarkable for the vigor of its style, extensive research, and calm philosophical views of the times and persons he treats of; manifesting not only literary talents of the highest order, but kindly feelings and generous impulses. A lover of literature for its own dear sake; a zealous, able, and fearless advocate of its interests; a man of strong sympathies with his fellow-men, and, above all, with the unfortunate, the neglected, or the ill-used of that literary profession of which * Published in Lardner's Cyclopædia. he is a frank, manly, warm-hearted, and most distinguished member. Mr. Forster's contributions to reviews and other periodicals, if collected and published in a distinct form, would probably do more for his fame than either of his separate works, excellent as they are. It always appeared to me a great merit in Lady Blessington, that she had the ability to discover the worth of men like Forster, and the power of attaching them to her by the strongest ties of friendship. In this instance, from a large correspondence, only such passages have, by request, been taken as helped to exhibit the kindliness of Lady Blessington's nature, and the generosity and warmth of her friendships. ter. LETTERS FROM LADY BLESSINGTON TO JOHN FORSTER, ESQ. "Gore House, Monday. 1835. "It has given me the greatest pleasure to hear that you are so much betCount D'Orsay assures me that the improvement is most satisfactory. To-morrow will be the anniversary of his birth-day, and a few friends will meet to celebrate it. How I wish you were to be among the number. What you say of Horace Walpole well exposes the littleness of that overpraised man's character. I never liked him, and always considered him a sort of nondescript, combining all the qualities of an envious, spiteful old maid. His one redeeming point was his affection for General Conway, and now even that is gone. How I wish the weather would mend, and that you could come to us. "M. BLESSINGTON." "Gore House, October 7th, 1838. "I have been a sad invalid of late, and am still making but a very slow progress toward health. My literary labors, slight as the subjects to which they have been directed are, have fatigued me, and I now discern that light works may prove as heavy to the writer as they too frequently do to the reader. "M. BLESSINGTON." "Saturday night. I have felt all that you "I thought of you often last evening and this day. are now undergoing thrice in my life, and know what a painfully unsettled state of mind it produces, what a dread of the present, what a doubt of the fuWhat a yearning after the departed, and what an agonizing conviction that never was the being, while in life, so fondly, so tenderly loved as now, when the love is unavailing. Judge, then, after three such trials, how well I ture. |