Remarks on Jerricault's Picture.

muscles, and the flexibility of the spine are represented. The value of the painting, in this view, would be perhaps more justly appreciated by the surgeon or the professed artist, but it is too obvious to escape the observation of the least qualified spectator.

While enumerating its beauties, we must not omit the transparency of the sea, through whose waves our sight can almost penetrate; and the sail is such an exquisite imitation of reality, that we think we see the light through its canvas texture.

Perhaps the most prominent defect in this picture is the fullness of limbs which is given to the different figures. We must recollect that they had been thirteen days on the raft— that during that time they had eaten but two scanty meals, one of spoiled biscuits, the second of some fish which were caught between the raft-timbers-that life had been sustained only by sparingly distributed rations of wine-that while they had undergone every privation, hunger, thirst and cold, their minds had been equally agitated by all the most horrible conflicts of passion and despair,-and can we reconcile to ourselves the idea of their presenting the human frame in its full strength and proportion? We are also unable to account for the nakedness of the figures, as we have been led to believe that, on leaving the ship, they were all fully clothed— with respect to the dead bodies which are introduced, we are assured that, about two days before, the sick and wounded, whose prolonged existence would have reduced the provisions too quickly, were thrown overboard, and that the fifteen who were on the raft were all living.-There are few marks of their sanguinary conflicts, and none whatever of the effect of the salt water in stripping off their skin-the picture is also too dry; for although the construction of the platform on the centre of the raft raised them from their constant immersion in the water, yet the waves still washed frequently over them. The dead soldier is lying in an awkward position, and we find it difficult in imagination to suppose what part of the raft is occupied by his feet.-The fine figure of Correard is (we suspect,) copied from a figure in Raphael's celebrated picture of "Christ appeasing the storm" -At least, there is a sufficient resemblance to warrant our supposition.

It must be remarked however, that most of these defects cease to be such, if we consider it merely as a specimen of the limner's art. The greatest number of them refer rather

Correspondence of a Lover.

to the title than the substance, and resemble the imperfections of a book which should profess to render an account of the late war in Spain, while it confounded the order of events, and distorted the plain circumstances of truth to enable its author to display the power of his imagination by the substitution of a more affecting narrative-would we not condemn the application of the title in this instance, and call the book a Romance, not a History, even though it came from the fascinating pen of a Robertson?

FRAGMENTS OF THE CORRESPONDENce of a lover,

(Continued from page 118.)

*

*

Circumstances will not permit us to indulge what might, otherwise, promote our happiness-be generous then, and banish the memory of one of whose esteem and confidence you are in full possession. Are those your commands, my Eleanor? and can it be possible you desire me to forget you?-Sooner could the untutored savage lift his arms in rebellion against the sun he worshipped-or the houseless wretch forego a shelter from the storm-than I could forget you? You impose promises too, and enjoin me to fulfil them-the obedience of love is the resignation of hope, joy, peace, happiness,-all-sacrificed without consideration-and offered up as the burning incense of the heart on a shrine whose flames must mingle with them, or destroy them :-to submit to your will is the natural direction of my thoughts, it is like a strong instinct of my being, and the impulse of hunger that induces me to seek food, or of weariness that urges me to repose, are not more essential to my existence than that mute submission with which I follow your wishes-but how am I to obey you in this? at the same moment, you prescribe the performance of a task, and deprive me of the power of executing it-you desire me to visit at your Uncle's as usual, -but to entertain my fatal affection no more-command the Persian to gaze upon the orb of his idolatry, reigning splendidly and alone in Heaven, and tell him to crush the enthusiasm of his soul's worship-tell him to look on it calmly as it sinks in the horizon. and to say in the mockery of self-controul, "I am no longer the slave of your influence"-thou art no longer the idol of my affections."

Correspondence of a Lover.

That I have unchangingly and secretly loved you so many years, is not my merit but thine-for in possessing so much virtue and fascination as to fix the wanderings of an unsettled heart to one decided point, you have done more than I, who have only tacitly and quietly yielded to the imperceptible advances of a feeling that has taken such a hold on my nature.

It was midnight-the echo of my steps under your window sounded hollowly through the street-I believe I was alone, for I did not hear the tread of a human being. Oh! thus would I be, thus desolate and cheerless should you fling me from your heart, withering under the air of night, like some blasted plant that the oppressive heat of the sunshine had destroyed, and left to decay in the cold darkness that succeeded.

Street, 11th January, 18-

I have seen the beauty of whom you have spoken so much, and, to be candid with you, I admire her; there is a vivacity in her manners that one distinguishes from coquetry at once by the air of frankness that accompanies it, and there is a sweetness in the expression of her features when she appears pleased, that is very insinuating. I do not design to rival you in your admiration of this attractive creature, and I know you will consider my expressions not as the effusions of a lover, but rather as the honest sentiments of a friend. As I understood she was an admirer of books, I was determined to avail myself of that knowledge, and, on being introduced to dance with her, I took an opportunity of dwelling upon the beauties of some I had read, and with which I presumed she was acquainted; in the course of our conversation, I happened to remark that you had lent me the "Pleasures of Hope," which, I observed, was a particular favorite-on hearing your name, an involuntary blush started to her cheek-it was but momentary, and in an instant it was gone; yet I could trace, even after it had left her cheeks, a flush that suffused itself delicately through her naturally beautiful complexion, and gave an additional interest to its loveliness.

"Have you perused it?" she asked

"Not yet;" I replied, "but I intend devoting a few even"ings to that purpose, as I am unwilling to return it until I

Correspondence of a Lover.

"satisfy myself that it is as excellent as the world would "have it. Charles," I continued, "has a good selection "of books,-do you often favor him by offering your opinion 66 on any

of them ?"

"Yes I have been sometimes very troublesome to him, "but—indeed it seems to give him pleasure, for he has often "assured me how much it gratifies him to lend books to those "who will read and understand them-I do not mean, however, to say that I understand them-but then I read them "with attention, and

66

"He is satisfied that you can comprehend them-"

At this moment Miss drew near, and interrupted us by remarking what an exquisite dress Lady S

wore

"I was almost induced to enquire of her ladyship where "she purchased it, and if my intimacy with her would admit, "I should feel no hesitation in begging her to lend it to me "as a pattern."

The latter part of this address was delivered in a halfwhisper to Eleanor, who participated for the moment in Miss's feelings, for the purpose of getting rid of her. Lady S strolled into the adjoining room, and the infatuated girl followed her.

At length the dance was over, and we all retired to seatsEleanor appeared fatigued, and refused to dance the next set. I will own I was not a little pleased with her determination, as it afforded an opportunity of continuing what had been so unfortunately broken by the unlucky Miss

"Are you an admirer of the country ?" said I.

"I like it in summer," she replied, "but a town residence "in winter is always preferable. I know a young married "couple who have spent the last six weeks in a round of "company in Dublin, after a seclusion I believe, of ten "months in the county of Antrim, and you would scarcely "credit what altered creatures they are. Upon my honor, "I would not look so ridiculous as the lady did when she "first came to this city-not for an emperor's diadem-in "short," continued the lively girl," in short she had ruffles "and tabbinets of the last century, disposed in such awk"ward and obsolete folds, that I really wonder she had courage to venture within the precincts of the Mall, until "she had at least refitted her appearance."

66

"And what do you attribute all this to ?" I enquired.

"To the habits of the country, to be sure; had they re

Correspondence of a Lover.

mained but three months at Ballymoney, they would not have appeared so strange on their return.

I now endeavoured, in the common-place way, to draw her into a conversation on that common place subject-love. "Does it occur to you," said I, "that in the pauses of dancing, those persons who were partners, and who are now sitting together round the room, are employed on some interesting topic?"

"I am a bad physiognomist," was the answer, "and I really do not remark any thing particular in their manner from which to draw such a conclusion.'

""

"Were you ever in love," said I, and I hesitated

She looked at me for a moment, and there was something so superior in her glance that I cannot convey a description of it

"In love?"-she asked

"In love"-I echoed, and I fancied I read an intelligence in her eyes that chid me from the question.

"In love-I do not understand your meaning-are you jesting or serious?"

"Serious-perfectly serious," I replied"Oh! yes,' ," and she smiled with that kind of air that seemed to say she was trifling, "oh! yes, and so very often that I have almost formed a resolution never to fall in love again."

I perceived she was bantering, and I asked a number of foolish questions; for, to tell you the truth, I was not a little disconcerted by her answer.

"Well," said she at last, "I am often surprised that you, gentlemen, who should be blest with reason and the power of distinguishing between sense and nonsense, so frequently render yourselves ridiculous by the questions and answers' which you inflict and expect when you are engaged with ladies. Is it that you suppose us destitute of mind, barren of diseernment, and totally incapable of seeing right from wrong?-or is it that you have entered into a special bond to exclude females from the benefit of rational conversation? 1 am always amused, you will pardon me for taking so much liberty with your sex, at the absurd and, indeed I must add, in many instances almost expected queries, with which a gentieman insults the understanding of his partner when he has been just introduced to her to dance. Are you fond of dancing?-a smile- have you been at the Theatre ?'-an