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stony stares ; but the breach was effec- determined such things should not kill tually made the rest was only a ques

her. She would live to do something tion of time. Mrs. Tramore could be she hardly knew what. The provisions trusted to keep what she had gained, of her mother's will were published in and it was the dowagers, the old drag- the Illustrated News; from which it apons with prominent fangs and glittering peared that everything that was not to scales, whom the trick had already main go to Eric and to Julia was to go to the ly caught. By this time there were sev- fortunate Edith. Miss Tramore makes eral houses into which the liberated lady no secret of her own intentions as rehad crept alone. Her daughter had been gards this favorite. Edith is not pretty, expected with her, but they could n't turn but Lady Maresfield is waiting for her; her out because the girl had stayed be- she is determined Gwendolen Vesey shall hind, and she was fast acquiring a new not get hold of her. Mrs. Vesey, howidentity, that of a parental connection ever, takes no interest in her at all. She with the heroine of such a romantic story. is whimsical, as befits a woman of her She was at least the next best thing to fashion; but there are two persons she her daughter, and Rose foresaw the day is still very fond of, the delightful Berwhen she would be valued principally as tram Jays. The fondness of this pair, it a memento of one of the prettiest epi- must be added, is not wholly expended sodes in the annals of London. At a big in return. They are extremely united, official party, in June, Rose had the joy but their life is more domestic than might of introducing Eric to his mother. She have been expected from the preliminary was a little sorry it was an official party signs. It owes a portion of this peculiar – there were some other such queer peo- intensity of quietude to the fact that ple there; but Eric called, observing the Mrs. Tramore has now so many places shade, the next day but one.

to go to that she has almost no time to No observer, probably, would have come to her daughter's. She is, under been acute enough to fix exactly the mo- her son-in-law's roof, a brilliant but a ment at which the girl ceased to take rare apparition, and the other day he out her mother and began to be taken remarked upon the circumstance to his out by her. A later phase was more dis- wife. tinguishable — that at which Rose for- “ If it had n't been for you,” she rebore to inflict on her companion a dual- plied, smiling, “she might have had her ity that might become oppressive. She regular place at our fireside.” began to economize her force, and went “Good heavens, how did I prevent only when the particular effect was re- it?” cried Captain Jay, with all the conquired. Her marriage was delayed by sciousness of virtue. the period of mourning consequent upon “ You ordered it otherwise, you the death of her grandmother, who, the

And she says, in the same younger Mrs. Tramore stated, was killed spirit, whenever her husband commends by the rumor of her own new birth. She her (which he does, sometimes, extravawas the only one of the dragons who gantly) for the way she launched her mohad n't been tamed. Julia Tramore ther, “Nonsense, my dear : practically. knew the truth about this, and she was it was you!”

Henry James.

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The following letters have been se famed though fallen spouse of the Adrilected from the unpublished correspon atic. I have always studiously avoided dence of the late Joseph Severn, a name looking at views or reading or listenfamiliar to all lovers of Keats. The ing to descriptions of Venice, wishing to first three have been chosen for a spe come upon it at once without any precial reason, though written by different judice, and if possible to save myself a persons and at wide intervals; for they disappointment upon seeing the original have this in common, that each is the after reading some account of it like first letter written in Venice, respectively, Eustace's and Piranesi's of Rome, which by a notable sculptor, an eminent painter, we all agree are humbugs, and only and the foremost art writer of our time. lead one astray. I have been well re

Westmacott, the first in order, the son paid for waiting for the reality, — any of Sir Richard Westmacott, was then a description must fall short of it. My young man, as he was born in 1799. He imagination sometimes gets upon stilts, went to Italy in 1820 to study at Rome, and I had of course fancied a sort of where he became acquainted with Severn city in the water, with latticed winshortly before the death of Keats ; and dows, orange-trees, gondolas, etc., but I from that time forward their friendship had not neared the original. I came was an intimate one. Severn never ac from Ferrara by water, and I think few tively sought academical honors, and to things can be more beautiful than the the day of his death was an outsider, scene that presented itself as soon as we though, long before, Westmacott, Thomas entered the principal canal of Venice. Uwins, Charles Eastlake, Sir George It was about four o'clock in the evenHayter, and others of his “circle” ob- ing, and the weather, though the sky tained ample official recognition. West was not quite Italian, very fine. I can't macott, who became Associate in 1838, tell you how I felt as we cut through R. A. in 1849, and Professor of Sculp- the water. I was full of Desdemona, ture in 1857, died seven years before his Shylock, Pierre, Belvidera, old Dandolo, older friend. He is now perhaps best and fifty other delightful and interestknown by his excellent Handbook on the ing associations; but you have seen it Schools of Sculpture; for his finest works all, and are just the sort of chap to enin his particular art are mostly in private joy it, so I need not tease you with any hands, as notably in the instance of The details of the what nor the why I adCymbal Player, his chef-d'oeuvre, in the mired. As soon as I could I saw the possession of the Duke of Devonshire. Rialto, then S. Mark, then the Bridge

In the early part of the century visitors of Sighs, “ on either side a Palace and were fortunate in having to approach a Prison ;” in fact, from the time of my Venice from the Paduan mainland by arrival I have been running about dewater, a route, however, as Westma- vouring whatever came in my way. I cott adds in a postscript to his letter, am now driven in by darkness and fa“ not to be recommended to ladies.” tigue, and before going to my couch

have resolved to keep my promise of

writing to my dear Giuseppe. VENICE, May 20, 1824. Mr. Brown told me he had written to MY DEAR SEVERN, - Eccomi quà at you.


suppose he told you of my havlast, full of wonder and admiration of the ing proceeded almost immediately on


my arrival at Florence to Carrara. I I don't know what I should have done. returned in a few days, and was glad to You recollect what a weeping, miserable, avail myself of his kind offer of an intro- mourning day we had to start on by duction to Mr. Leigh Hunt. I saw but way of helping me to recover my spirits, little of him, unfortunately for me, but Gesu Maria ! but Mr. Brown made us that little made me regret that our ac all merry, after a fashion, in spite of quaintance was so lately made and so ourselves. soon to be interrupted. I spent much Well, I won't imagine I am not to reof my last day in Florence with him

turn to Rome next year.

A letter lately and Mr. Brown in the Vale of the Belle received from my father is neither one Donne, which we all enjoyed very much. thing nor the other, but in my mind full Could I have remained longer in dear of unintelligibles. Sto sperando. ... Tuscany we should have spent many plea

God bless you.

Yours truly, sant days together, I dare say, for Mr.

RICHARD WESTMACOTT. Brown is just the man to be happy with, and I feel I should have liked Mr. Hunt Some seven or eight months earlier more and more every time I met him. Severn had himself made his first visit

I saw the Brunino, and think him a to Venice, in company with the friend very fine little fellow ; your miniature who was his most intimate and loyal is certainly very like him. He speaks comrade, as well as of Keats, — Charles nothing but Italian, and his papa, like Armitage Brown, the Mr. Brown of the all papas, is not a little proud of him. foregoing letter.

The visit had a maI thought our old plague Johnny Hunt terial effect upon his practice in paintlooked

very ill. I think he must be im- ing, and then and afterwards he held proved, for although he tried to bolt up the beautiful city on the Adriatic to be to 'me with his taking, innocent-sound- the true Mecca for the painter. ing “Ah! how d’ye do, sir !” I saw he Though nominally resident in Rome made himself scarce as soon as possible. from the time when he went thither Poor child! or rather, poor parents! I with Keats till he left it, for a prolonged suspect a bad child is a curse of which period, in 1841, Severn went to Engwe single gentlemen can't even imagine land on a short visit in 1837. When in the bitterness. God save us from it if London he made the acquaintance of a ever we become Benedicts. ...

young artist of rare accomplishment as I meant to stay here seven or eight well as promise, the late George Richdays, in which time they tell me I may mond, R. A. All readers of Præterita see Venice pretty well. I am still with (vol. ii. chap. ii.) will remember Mr. RusMr. Critshell, and it is probable we may kin's tribute to Mr. Richmond, and how make a long journey together. I wish the writer first stumbled upon the two I had a brother artist here, such as artists as he was ascending the stairs of yourself or Kirkup. A sculptor ought Severn's house in the Via Rasella, on his not to go picture-hunting alone ; he loses

way to present a letter of introduction half the things worth seeing, or fre to the elder. After his stay in Rome quently passes by a non ce male work George Richmond went on to Venice, just for want of knowing where and in July, 1839. Shortly thereafter Severn how to take it. I however think my received the following letter from him. self very fortunate in having found so The Lord Clifford alluded to at the close gentlemanly and agreeable a companion of the letter was a remarkable man. As as Mr. Critshell. I never could feel a Roman Catholic and the nephew of happy nor enjoy anything alone, solus. Cardinal Weld, he was persona grata Had I not had companions from Rome at the papal court. The story of his VOL. LXVIII.


NO. 410.


devotion to the people during the fright Rocco rank him with the great designful visitation of cholera earlier in the ers of the Roman and Florentine schools. thirties is one of dauntless heroism. What a group of women that is, in the

great picture of the Crucifixion, at the

foot of the cross! I very much doubt VENICE, July 24, 1839. if Volterra's so much celebrated one in MY DEAR SEVERN, - I promised you S. Trinità di Monte surpasses it. Art a letter, so here goes; but you must not seems but a plaything in his hands, and expect a fine critique on Venetian art, this overboldness has often betrayed him ravings about their glazing, or any won into errors, not to say signal failures, derful discoveries about gray grounds, for such a man. The Assumption of for I am sorry to say I have made Titian's is a surprising picture, full of none, but have looked, when I have not greatness of intention and in the exebeen at work (which has been seldom), cution ; but the figures strike me as no with much such eyes as others, I expect, more or less than picturesque books, exbring, quite willing to be pleased, and cepting the children and angels, some therefore have not been disappointed. of which equal anything I have seen. Here nature has triumphed over art, or But the picture of pictures, to my taste, rather nature and art have combined, in is the large Paolo Veronese, which for the evening of every fine day, to beat vivacity and freeness of execution united everything that ever was or will be for to a most enchanting tone over the whole splendor and gorgeousness of effect in is one of the wonders of art. I don't the view from the water, at sunset, of think anything can be finer or more simS. Mark's and all the rich accompani- ply painted. It strikes me as a far more ments about it. I pay you an honest agreeable whole than the large picture compliment in saying it has often re in the Louvre. minded me of the beautiful sketch you I have just begun a copy of two figures made of this as a background to your the size of the originals. They stand picture of Venice.

before a pillar something such [sketch Well, I must say I have not been so follows], and I think for intensity of surprised as I expected by the works I character nothing I ever saw surpasses have yet seen, for the Palazzo S. Marco them. The great fat fellow with the I have not yet visited. In Rome I was hanging - looking Moor beside him is thunderstruck at the first view of its worthy of Michael Angelo. Do you not treasures ; in Venice I have been less think, for style, that Paolo is even better astonished than delighted, and I find its to study than Titian? By the bye, what treasures grow on me daily. One thing curious works the later ones of Titian! is to be said in explanation of this: that They put me something in mind of old out of Rome one can hardly know Raf- Northcote's painting, they look so mudfaello or Michael Angelo at all, , but dled and pottered over, just what one out of Venice one may be perfectly ac would look for as the result of extreme quainted with Titian and Paolo Vero- old age. A work they show of his early

Tintoretto is the man whom one youth gives promise of all that followed. sees for the first time here, and truly To have been in order, I should have I have been astounded by the magnifi- told you that we stayed a whole day at cence and daring character of his works, Bologna, so that I had at least one hearty both in design and color. He puts me good look at the gallery there, which suroften in mind of Rembrandt, but he is prised me by its riches; although small, immensely stronger in invention; indeed, it is very perfect. All the pictures are some of the works in the Scuola of San good, and many of them are first-rate



specimens of the masters.

What a so

the dowager Countess of Warwick to ber, subdued, and grand tone pervades paint a series of frescoes at her beautithe works of their school! I certainly ful place in Surrey, which was presented think they went very far towards achiev to her by her son. It is doubtful, for ing their object of uniting to the tone reasons unnecessary to go into here, and color of Venice the gusto in design whether fortune would have further faof Rome and Florence. I made a num vored him in this. All his artistic prober of little sketches while I stayed, just jects in England were arrested when, taking the plan of some of the finest in 1860, he applied for and ultimately works, and I shall do this now wherever gained the vacant office of British conI

go. Since I came here I have made sul at Rome. This post he held till ten water-colors of the best pictures in 1872, seven years before his death ; 1 the Belle Arti, which I think will be of and it was in the second year of his tenuse to me. I am sure you are right in ure (1863) that he wrote for the Atlantic recommending a sketch whenever it may Monthly his now famous article on the be got, for it remains, while mere im- Vicissitudes of Keats's Fame. pressions are fugitive as the day. What This letter from Mr. Ruskin is psyrascally cheats these Venetians are! and chologically significant as well as interyet very good people in their way, won- esting in other respects, for it shows derfully civil, and at the galleries (oh, that the writer was in 1843 essentially what a contrast to Rome !) they are per- the same man that we know to-day. fection; one has but to apply, and entrance to study is obtained instantly. Pray give my love to the illustrissimo

VENICE, September 21, 1843. blackguard Agricola when you see him. MY DEAR SIR, I am sure you will I speak of his maldirection wherever I excuse my not having answered your can, for such a man ought to be re kind letter before when I tell you that moved from his post. As I did not see I have been altogether unhinged by the Lord Clifford when I called the last day condition in which I have found Venice, I was in Rome, will you be so kind as and that every time I stir out-of-doors I to present my most respectful remem return too insensible to write or almost brance to him, and offer my very best to speak to any one. But I cannot longer thanks for the many favors I received at defer expressing my sincere gladness his hands?..

at your well-deserved success, and my Ever your truly obliged and faithful sympathy in all the enthusiasm of your friend, GEORGE RICHMOND. hopes so far as regards your own aims

and prospects; and I am also glad, for Some four years later Severn was the the sake of our national honor, that you fortunate recipient of a long letter giv- are to be one of its supporters. But ing Mr. Ruskin's first impressions of with your hopes for the elevation of EngVenice. The allusion in the second sen lisa art by means of fresco I cannot symtence is to Severn's having gained one pathize. I have not the remotest hope of the premiums at the Westminster of anything of the kind. It is not the Hall Cartoons Competition, and in reply, material nor the space that can give us also, to a long letter concerning his hopes thoughts, passions, or powers. I see on for fresco-painting in England, and his our Academy walls nothing but what is own determination to succeed in this ignoble in small pictures, and would be genre, if success could be obtained at

1 And nine years before he was laid by the any cost. At a later date, I may add, side of Keats, to be in death, as in life, “inhe gained his wish in a commission from mortally associated with his illustrious friend."

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