THE DESPAIR OF VENUS OVER THE DEAD BODY OF ADONIS.

"Franticly she doteth;

She thinks he could not die, he is not dead.

Her voice is stopp'd, her joints forget to bow,
Her eyes are mad that they have wept till now.

Upon his hurt she looks so stedfastly,

That her sight dazzling, makes the wound seem three;
And then she reprehends her mangling eye,

That makes more gashes where no breach should be:
His face seems twain, each several limb is doubled,
For oft the eye mistakes, the brain being troubled.

'My tongue cannot express my grief for one;
And yet,' quoth she, 'behold the two Adons dead!
My sighs are blown away, my salt tears gone,
Mine eyes are turn'd to fire, my heart to lead :
Heavy heart's lead melt at mine eyes as fire,
So shall I die by drops of hot desire.

Alas! poor World, what treasure hast thou lost!
What face remains alive that's worth the viewing?
Whose tongue is music now? what canst thou boast

Of things long since, or any thing ensuing?

The flowers are sweet, their colours fresh and trim,
But true sweet Beauty liv'd, and dy'd in him.'"-Shakspeare.

THE story of Venus and Adonis, of the coyness of the youth, his passion for the chase, and his death in the obstinate pursuit of it, is well known, and has been as often painted as poetized. Mr. West has chosen the point of time when the goddess first discovers her loss, and bursts out into a despairing lamentation at the sight.-The eye follows with delight the elegantly flowing lines of all the figures in their continuity, contrast, and delicate variation. The leading expression of grief is dedelineated with a most natural and pathetic gradation. The whole retinue of Venus partake in her affliction. Even the doves and swans are sympathetically attracted by the tragic event. One of the dogs lies close to his master in mute concern, and two others, in the back ground, are assailing the flying boar, the author of the mischief, who, with a significant and sidelong turn of his eye-a touch worthy of Theocritus-is making off with all possible expedition. Two of the Graces-the waiting maids of Venus-are endeavouring to soothe their distracted Queen; while the third, who has just approached the calamitous scene, exhibits a mixed feeling of grief and surprise. The next in degree of sorrow is the little progeny of Love, who express their unhappiness with a tenderness appropriate to infancy. One looks regretfully at the beauteous corse; a second lifts up his arm, as

if to be satisfied whether Adonis is really dead, and then looks at Venus in sympathetic conviction of the mournful fact; while others, alarmed, are shrinking from the appalling spectacle. Cupid himself, more deeply affected in proportion to his sense of the loss, averts himself from it as from a sight too shocking to contemplate; and distressfully leaning his head on one arm, lifts up the other with on expression of acute and impatient feeling. The agony of Venus finishes the climax. It is characterized with an energy that absorbs every other thought, but without deteriorating in the slightest degree that winding elegance and native sweetness of air which are the inseparable charms of the Queen of Beauty and of Love. The picture is indeed altogether a lovely one-busy without confusion, and impassioned without affectation.

MOSES VIEWING THE PROMISED LAND.

R. H.

"And Moses went up from the plains of Moab unto the mountain of Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, that is over against Jericho. And the LORD shewed him all the land of Gilead, unto Dan,

“And all Napthali, and the land of Ephraim, and Manasseh, and all the land of Judah, unto the utmost sea,

"And the south, and the plain of the valley of Jericho, the city of palm trees, unto Zoar.

"And the LORD said unto him, This is the land which I sware unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, saying, I will give

it unto thy seed: I have caused thee to see it with thine eyes, but thou shalt not go over thither.

"So Moses the servant of the LORD died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the LORD.

“And he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor: but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day.

And Moses was an hundred and twenty years old when he died: his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated.

“And the children of Israel wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days: so the days of weeping and mourning for Moses were ended."-Deuteronomy xxxiv. 1-8.

No ordinary elevation of thought is required to form a suitable conception of a great character, but to be able to communicate to others an adequate impression of it, demands a luminous genius, and a mastery of the art by which the impression is made, whether it be verbal or graphical. Of such an enlarged ability we have a prominent instance in the impression made on our imaginations by this delineation. The importance of the main figure is indicated no less by the train of celestials engaged with him, than by the usually introduced radiance round his head, but still more expressively by his own personal dignity, and especially by the venerable aspect of his head. There is an agreeable novelty in his attitude, and his form throughout is admirably accordant to the scriptural account of his extraordinary vigour at the advanced age of a hundred and twenty," his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated." This venerable and vigorous character, so beautifully contrasted by the delicate aspects of the angels, their earnestness in shewing the long desired land to the prophet, his expression of admiration on beholding it, the scientific display of drawing, and the tasteful simplicity of the composition, especially in the linear arrangement of the objects, render this one of the most unexceptionable productions of genius.

R. H.