At the time of the great heats they resided at Tivoli. In autumn, Vernet participated in the pleasures of "la chasse" with two or three friends. The sport was limited chiefly to shooting starlings, which abounded near the supposed tomb of Nero and the bridge of Salario, "c'est la petite chasse," his biographer intimates! Sometimes, however, “la chasse” was extended to the marshes at the mouth of the Tiber; and on these occasions they brought home some wild fowl, and sometimes even a wild boar. Such was Joseph Vernet's life in Rome-a continued scene of happiness. Poussin and Claude Lorrain had much to suffer before they attained the comforts that Joseph Vernet enjoyed at thirty-two years of age.

The birth of three children imposed, however, an increase of industry on Vernet. It was no longer a mere matter of reputation; he had a wife and children to provide for. The English came to his aid. Every one who came to Rome, we are told, insisted on two paintings-a calm and a tempest. Some would have the four periods of the day, others wanted half a dozen. The most illustrious names of England are to be found in the "Livre de Vérité." Robert Wood, on his way to Palmyra, left an order for four pictures. There are two Hamiltons. One "M. Amilton" is supposed to be the Scottish artist, Gavin Hamilton; the second, "Milord Milton," is no other than Sir William Hamilton, the ambassador at Naples. Mathias, an English artist, was, however, the great monopoliser of Vernet's art, which he disposed of, it is presumed, advantageously at home. "Who," says M. Lagrange, "does not recognise in his name, as well as in his mode of proceeding, the child of Israel, the inevitable Mardocheus?" Some English amateurs were exceedingly minute in their instructions as to the kind of landscapes which they desired. Their instructions are, indeed, amusing to read. The number of pictures painted for the English, during the six years between 17461752, amounted to about eighty. The sums paid are recorded in seventyfour instances, and constitute a total of 31,397 francs, or 13087. "It was," says his biographer, notwithstanding his manifest repugnance even to the patronage extended by England to his countryman, "the best period of his existence."

He is not, however, much more considerate towards other nationalities. Expatiating upon the various people who competed for Vernet's pictures, he says, "Six paintings of Vernet's will reveal the sweets of a milder climate to Sweden dying of cold in the recesses of its forests." People do not die of cold where vegetation assumes the port and bearing of forest trees. Prussia acquired the Bains de femmes. "What a treat," M. Lagrange exclaims, "for the great Frederick!" France alone failed to recognise the genius of its offspring. Four of Vernet's pictures were exhibited in the "salon" of 1746, under the heading of "M. Vernet, of Rome!" Hinc ille lachrymæ! France was the last of all civilised countries to perceive the new constellation. A M. de Saint-Yenne alone spoke favourably of his pictures, as marines of the "Sieur Vernet, Provençal." At the next "salon" the Abbé Leblanc also wrote a favourable criticism, but he added that his landscapes were after Poussin. The third exhibition, the "salon" of 1748, however, did justice to the artist, and a M. de Saint-Jullien declared that his pictures were not only admirable, "they were divine, the ne plus ultra of art." "The name of

1

Vernet became after that," his biographer relates, "not less familiar to French amateurs than he already was to the English." The result was, however, more productive, apparently, of visits of congratulation than of orders, always excepting the Marquis de Villette and Peilhou, the latter "a countryman of Vernet's"-i.e. a Provençal-and the former the person to whom Vernet was indebted for the exhibition of his works at the "salons," and his introduction to Frenchmen. The instructions in respect to pictures to be painted for his French patrons are even longer and more minutely detailed than those of English amateurs. In 1750, La Bruère, director of Le Mercure de France, ordered a picture. Le Mercure had up to that time passed over Vernet's pictures without notice. M. Bruère's reports from Rome opened its eyes, and from that time forth it began to appreciate his talent. Rome was visited the same year by the Marquis de Marigny, brother to Madame de Pompadour, and M. Vernet received an order for two paintings, "pour le roy de France, ordonnez (sic) le 12 May, 1750, par Madame de Pompadour." This was an order that decided the future of Vernet. The victories of the "Grand Monarque" had been immortalised on canvas. It was suggested to M. de Marigny, director of the royal edifices, that pictures of the ports of France-of the maritime cities which constituted the wealth of the kingdom-would be a worthy national treasure. Madame de Pompadour adopted the suggestion as calculated to amuse and flatter her royal lover. None but Vernet could undertake the task, and he went to Paris in 1753 in order to receive his definite instructions. Madame de Pompadour, herself an artist, took delight in gathering kindred spirits around her. She had already Vanloo, Vien, Boucher, and Bouchardou; to these she now added Vernet, whom, to use his biographer's expression, "she reconciliated with France."

The original project for the illustration of the ports of France comprised twenty pictures, eight for the Mediterranean, twelve for the Atlantic, but circumstances arose that shortened the labours of Vernet, and reduced the number to twelve. The artist began with Marseilles, his port of predilection. His itinerary and instructions prescribed two views, an interior and an exterior. His exterior, taken from the Tête de More, represents himself and all his family in the foreground enjoying a pic-nic. Vernet was essentially a family man, and with him pleasure was made subservient to art. This official journey appears, indeed, to have been converted by such happy dispositions as himself, his wife, and family, into one continuous fête. The itinerary prescribed a sketch of the tunny fishery. A grand piscatorial entertainment was got up for the purpose. At Toulon, those who had houses commanding good views of the harbour, opened them to the artist. He had three pictures to paint, and he was two years engaged in their elaboration. They are, in fact, full of portraits of the notabilities and of the hospitable hosts of the place. These pictures were engraved by Cochin, with the progress of their completion, and their historical value in the present day consists precisely in what they were most criticised for at the time, the number of people of all countries, and the variety of costumes that were depicted on the quays and foregrounds, at the expense of some portions of the land or sea-scape. The sojourn at Toulon comprised also an excursion to and a painting of Antibes. The artist did not, at the same time,

neglect his private orders, which were chiefly English, and came to him through Jenkins, artist and banker, at Rome, and Whately, consular agent at Marseilles. The orders from French amateurs comprised one in which the patron wished his professional pursuits to be depicted; another suggested a landscape as a kind of framework for the portrait of his wife! It would appear that, at Toulon, Vernet associated a young artist of the name of Jacques Volaire with himself to trace the perspective, and fill up architectural details. These were evidently not his forte. A brief visit was made to his native town before setting to work at Cette, the only port of Languedoc. This was natural. He had left Avignon poor, humble, unknown, he returned there an official painter of renown, fêted by all parties. Vernet was detained six months at Cette, a port only remarkable for its dulness.

Hence he proceeded to what the French call the "Ocean” par excellence, for does it not bathe the coasts of France? Criticism, however stern towards those who shrink from it, sometimes moulds itself to the pressure of those who boldly confront its edicts. M. Lagrange, unsparing towards the fogs of England and the ices of the north, suddenly discovers, as Vernet journeys towards Bordeaux, that "the Ocean has also its beauties, more tragical, more gloomy than the 'capricious' graces of the Mediterranean; and what splendid harbours open to the commerce of our colonies, Bayonne, Bordeaux, Rochefort, La Rochelle!" The mention of the first as a splendid harbour betrays ignorance on the part of the biographer. The Adour has frequently shifted its bed, the entrance to the port has always been narrow, and so dangerous a bar crosses it that it has never been much frequented by other than coasters and vessels of small tonnage.

It is admitted, at the same time, that Vernet, who had attained his meridian, did not conform himself to the differences presented by the severe aspect of the "Ocean" as compared with the "facile beauties of the Mediterranean." He still continued, whilst engaged on its shores, "to combine, according to the laws of his familiar poetry, the elements of Italian picturesqueness." One of the pictures of Bordeaux was to represent the tower of Cordouan at the entrance of the river; he devoted himself to the quays and their incessant bustle, with portraits of his new Bordeaux patrons and friends, and to the gardens of Château-Trompette. From Bordeaux, Vernet went to Bayonne. His instructions demanded one painting; he made two, in both of which the town and the people absorb nature. The particular circumstances of the place, the costumes of the inhabitants, Basques and others, chalantiers (boatmen), bondaizes (butter-women), and alarribas (fish-wives), most occupied his attention; and justly so, for the sea is pretty nearly everywhere the same; man and his works differ, and best characterise a particular port, after its more striking natural features. Vernet was inimitable in these kind of details. His pictures were exhibited at Bayonne for eight days before being sent to Paris, and that was exposing them to a severer ordeal than what they could possibly expect in the metropolis.

For the ports north of the Gironde, Vernet took La Rochelle as his head-quarters. His instructions embraced Rochefort, La Rochelle, the roads of the island of Aix, with Rhé and Oleron, and the Sardine fishery off Belle-Isle. France was at that time at war with England, and the

"commander of the English squadron," we are told, hearing that Vernet was at Rochefort, invited him on board, and received him with the utmost courtesy. There still remained Lorient, Brest, Saint-Malo, Havre, Dieppe, Calais, Dunkerque, and others, but Vernet, whose family had kept increasing in numbers, did not find that six thousand francs, or two hundred and fifty pounds per picture, repaid his labour, the more especially as each picture took him about a year to complete. Even this miserable pittance was latterly paid in contracts on the States of Brittany or in taxes, the conversion of which into cash was accompanied by a considerable loss. The war was ruining the kingdom, and Vernet was ultimately obliged to leave his task to be completed in better times.

He returned finally to Paris on the 14th of July, 1762, and lodged until his death, in 1789, in the Louvre. The ill health of his wife, who became unfortunately the victim of a sad mental affliction, necessitated occasional removals to the country, and, what was worse, cast all the responsibilities of housekeeping on Vernet himself. But, amidst all these drawbacks, he was naturally of a cheerful disposition and fond of pleasure, so much so, indeed, that what between the expenses of a large family, the demands of relatives, and his own extravagances, he became a good deal embarrassed in his latter years. His career as an artist, however, almost came to an end in 1776. Wilson and Gainsborough, "more penetrated with the intimate poetry of nature," had at that epoch superseded Vernet in the estimation of the English, always his great patrons; and from that epoch until the period of his decease, thirteen years afterwards, only one English name appears in the "Livre de Vérité." That fatal year, according to his biographer, "closed the second brilliant period of Vernet's life, and inaugurated his decadence."

AN UNPLEASANT TRUTH.

We had our Poets' age of gold,
'Tis now an age of iron:

Tales such as Crabbe's no more are told,

Nor lives a Moore or Byron.

The Laureate's brow alone the Muse
With laurel wreaths is crowning;
She smiles on Aytoun; but she views
With doubtful glances Browning.

On many more, in mingled throngs,

She looks with frowns, or laughter,
For few have ever read their songs,
And few will read hereafter.
How false the hopes they fondly nurse!
How true-and hundreds show it-

That one may write ambitious verse,
And yet not be a Poet!

TWO FANTASTIC TALES.*

THE success which has attended the writings of M. Emile Erckmann and Alexandre Chatrain induces us to give our readers two specimens of their pleasant fictions, which for some time past have delighted the Parisians.

DOCTOR SELSAM.

This is an amusing and fantastic or whimsical story, relieved by characteristic descriptions of the elements of German society. The doctor is professor of general pathology, chef de clinique, and accoucheur de la grande-duchesse of some city where there is a Bergstrasse. Doctor Selsam is by no means an orthodox physician—like many other illustrious people, he has recourse to a crystal globe for cases of especial consultation. The Councillor Theodore Kilian had called upon him in reference to the health of his respectable aunt, Dame Annah Wunderlich, when a profound examination of the said globe enabled the gifted and learned physician to pronounce that the musical exaltations of that respectable lady, and her exaggerated expressions in regard to the Creation of Haydn, the oratorios of Handel, and the symphonies of Beethoven, prognosticated serious illness.

The diagnosis was not, however, complete, and to assist in its development Councillor Theodore was requested to play Mozart's "Enlèvement au Serail." This he did upon a choice Lévenhaupt, one of twelve manufactured expressly for Frederic II., and which rival the renowned Stradivarii, with such effect that his wig was on the floor, his knees were trembling, his frame agitated, and his whole soul absorbed in the sublime melody by the time that the spell had been woven.

The doctor rose with thanks on his lips. "Thank you, thank you a thousand times, dear and worthy friend; you have just rendered the greatest service to science."

"What I, merely playing a musical air, have rendered a service to science?" retorted the astonished councillor.

'Yes, dear Theodore, and I will not leave you in ignorance of the glorious part which you have taken in the solution of a great problem." The doctor then conducted his visitor to his amphitheatre, as the French designate a dissecting-room, and there unfolded his theory. "Man is immortal in detail. Every molecule that enters into his composition is imperishable. They all live, think, suffer, but their lives are under the control of the soul, which dominates over them, and imposes its will on all these individual lives. The type of a perfect government has been long sought for. It has been found in a beehive and in an ant's-nest, but it only exists in the mortal frame. Every function has its particular organism, and every organism its particular living element. Thus the lungs have their douves,' the intestines their lumbrici,' the heart its 'fungi,' and so on. A living man is an universe, subject to one will, which again is subject to the will of Him who does not permit of immortality here below, because He rules over all atoms, over the whole universe, just as man does over all the atoms that enter into his own composition-his own little universe. But each atom is imperishable, for He cannot perish in any one of his atoms."

* Contes des Bords du Rhin. Par Erckmann-Chatrain. Paris: J. Hetzel.