FINE la.F. ,le. EXIUVITION OF THE ItOYAL ACADEMY, 1809. Monday last the forty-first National Exhilytion of ahours of , British Painters, was cipened precisely e o'clock, and admitted a considerable crowd of vo• , cognoscenti, and amateurs of that delightful art, sere previously waiting- beneath the portico of So t. House. first paintiwp: that demands our notice, both by its CUOUS position and the reputation of its artist ilard, from ray's Pindaric Ode, by WEST. No.ll 9. :iem, front which the ideas of the Painter arc bet Jed to he derived, has been the subject of varto ism; although, On various accounts, it has attained a degree of popular reputation, which it was at first ed. The denunciation with which the Ode corn ices does not altogether accord with any image, which can form of a man uttering it, while ne continues .o play upon a harp. No position in which we can possibiy place the Bard, seems suitable to his double character of musician, and the prophet of impending evil,. aroused by the sufferings of his country. Mr. West has obviated this difficulty : his Bard dues not strike ‘. the deep sorrows of bis Lyre :" Nor does this appear to be a momentary cessa sion of his solemn minstrelsy : The heavy harp stands in such depth of silence by his side, and his figure has so much snore of the disordered orator than the enraptured bard, that we cannot but wonder why such au instrument should be near hint. Scarcely in -my idea does the Painter's mind seem to have been in unison w.LU the Poets': " the beard and hoary hair" (however the extravagance of the simile in Gray may have been ridiculed,) are wholly without the grandeur and dignity which those venerable adjuncts of old :age are well adapted to bestow. The countenance is indeed impressive: the position, though ditibring with the concep tion of Gray, is well defined and commanding; the colour ing is clear and vigorous, and the surrounding scenery not only sublime in itself, but sustained by a truly magnificent gloom of shadowing. Still Use bard of West is in no re spect the bard of iiray. It appears to aim at inure dig nity and less feeling, it strives to lo,k like something more than human ; it assumes rather an air of awe, than one of impassioned sensibility ; it depends more on its prophetic character, than on its su scept;bility of the common impres sions of humanity ; for exciting twr attention, it demands our respect rather than our emir.: 'ration ;—the bard of ray, on the other hand ; affects us our most exalted at tachments, patriotkm and friendship. The warmest traits of these sentiments, run through the whole ode, and give it those claims to general estimation, which are every where acknowledged. The prophetic powers of the Bardol though they are the menus of manifesting l!is long continued, and satisfied vengeance on the posterity ut the destroying conqueror, and his triumphant gratification in the future glo ries of the house of Tudor, yet are they secondary to his love for country, his grief for the death of his frit% !s, anti awfull desire of vengeance. This is ever the case in successt..:' productions : ideas, however magnificent, must be subser 'tient to sentiment,—to mere human sentiments, or they will speedily cease to be sublime. But lest we should seem : ► derogate from the acknowledged abilities of Mr. West, vi • are willing to admit, that the subject is in no wise adapted for the pencil : even in poetry, with all its opportunities of speaking to the hear:, it has almost failed the design is beyond its execution—and its execution is beyond the power of human conception—the agent, with all lais subli mity, is inadequate to his prophetic task. As far as senti meat sustains our commiseration, we experience all his energies, but we can go ne further: the wmgi of onr sen sibility drop off, al we strive to pursue his prophetic flight, and we fall into the calm stream of history , ver y much at our ease ; and by the time that the bard takes his leap into old Conway's flood, we have almost lost all our terror and sensibility in our historical recollections and gleanings. Far less ihe subject therefore adapted to painting than to THE NATIONAL REGISTER. .MAY 7; netry. By the former, nothing more than an extravagant u meaning figure can be exhibited ; and all the tenderness, engeance, and patriotism of the character must be extin gnished for want of expression, in which they can dilate themselves. Much even of the drawing of Mr. West's !lard is very reprehensible: the drapery is badly managed, Aid the lower part of the body has all the prommency of a regn an t femLile. NO. 6S. illiltod's llessieh, from the Sixth Book of Para. disc Lost. By B. WEir, it. A. The largest work of the President. does not claim the greatest portion of our atten tion. Yet, though we find much to commend in the paint ing, now helm-e us, we cannot refrain from declaring, that as a whole, it serves for another proof that there are daring images in poetry, w h ch cannot be allowed to be at tempted by the pt!ticit. The Godhead, in his wrath, grasp ing- ten thousand thunders," dwindles away, to a non-en tity : the more we strive to see him, the less we beheld of him : Wien once have gained a view of him as an angry, f-owniilcr man, with a bundle of matches, we have ..„ :_!ly lost all idea of the God. t'at pernatural impressions, - , then they lose their obscurity, lose also all their terror ; some assimilation with familiar objects must necessarily take place, and in that nssimilation all our awe expires. But Painting is the closest of all possible detail: it is, there.. lore, or all the arts, the least capable of imparting snper natural impressions. An Mr. West's figure of the Messiah, much is, indeed, pourtraycd. Mingling with terrific ven geance, w observe the expression of the most awful sor row; it is not anger, but jest destruction that elevates his arm; every limb, every feature of this figure seems im pressed with this sentiment ; and although the poetry of Milton dies away in the closeness of the detail, yet, as we lose the seldimer conception of a divinity, we become ac quainted with a being who interests us, and whom our imagination has no great reluctance to elevate into the scat of, the Messiah. The allegorical forms around are well imagined, and create a:l that obscurity which may assist our minds to believe that the humanfigure it beholds lit nit a human befits.. The colouring, outline, and general etlect of this piece are excellent. Of the lands;:apes by DE LOUTIIERBOURG it is impossible to speak with too much encomium. The Land Storm with an Overturned Iraggon, (No. 7.) is in his best. stile, while The Water-Spout in the Mountains of Switzerland, (No. 8.) possesses at once novelty of interest and teirifie grandeur. Of this I shall speak more particularly in iny next essay.— Woonvonnes Henry and .Ernma has a brilliancy of colour ing that is seldom equalled ; the countenance of Eii►t n expressive of all that contention of feelings with which she is agitated. But it must be remarked that there is a hard ness in this stile of colouring which gives the figures the appearance of I)eing copied from marble statues, rather than from belt:Ts of flesh and blood. 3. M. W. Tuns:La's e.teellent sea-pie.:e of ,S:pilhead,uith a Boars crew Recover ing an Anchor, shall be spoken (Ain my next essay ; as welt as the " Distressed fierily" of U. THOMSON.-1 perceive so many pieces that claim distinguished notice, and ,which either by the reputation or their artists, or their own con spicuous merit, demand all the energies of just and impar tial criticism, that in deleting my observations until the next number, I shall feel mvself cared to the most ;Men• tive examination, and to a critique of the most interestiie r ; aarticulars. I .l'liursday, about two o'clock, her Alajesty, Princesses 7usta, Mary, an:i :ophia, arrived at St. James's Pal ice: from Queen's : hold a Dra%s ing-room, for the first ti::•.! since her Majes!.i's indisposition. The I .- tiny were among the numerous presentations to her M • Admiral : . Calcraft, Sir Hew Dalrymple, Mrs. Patten, t. Nlrs. Apriece, the Rev. Gio (Lin, U. tlit•ks Beach, ltan,don, Miss Parkins, Mrs. King, Lora Lady Charlotte I'roby, tivneral Spencer, Sir Davis' Viscount Crinv,ton, the Earl of Or ford, Brigadier-Cieuerat iVrtle, Major Leith : Lord William Lien- um 'ed. Mingling with terrific ven- pressiou of the most awful sor- jr.st destruction that elevates his feature of this figure seems im- cut ; and although the poetry of loseness of the detail, yet, as we ion of a divinity, we become ac- who interests us, and whom our reluctance to elevate into the scat Ilegorical forms around are well that obscurity which may assist the human figure it beholds IA nit During, outline, and general etlect I E LOUTUERBOURG it is impossible ncomium. The Land Storm with 7.) is in his best. stile, while Mountains of Switzerland, (No. 8.) of interest and tei rifle grandeur. r. particularly in my next essay.— .Ernma has a beilhancv of colour- the countenance of Enon:L is itention of feelings with which she be remarked that there is a hard- tiring which gives the figures the ded from marble statues, rather ► and blood. J. M. W. Tuns La's thead,nith a Boars crew Recover- mken Win my next essay ; as well 'g" of 11. Taomsos.-1 percei VC SO notice, and ,which tar their artists, or their own con- dl the energies of just and impar- efering my observations until the rnisdf cared to the most aticn• a critique of the most interesting - o'clock, her Alajesty, Princ(sr,s Ida, arrived at St. James's Pal ice hold a Draw ing-room, for the (;', nong the numerous presentations Cater - aft, Sir Hew Dalrymple, Mrs. Npriece, the ltev. Gm d,..11, U. tv don, Miss Parkins, Mrs. lie, Lady Charlotte Proby, Ovneral Viscount Crinv,ton, the Earl of Or. 'ale, Major Leith : Lord William Lien-