FINE ARTS.
Punch begs most solemnly to assure his friends and the artists in general that should the violent cold with which he has been from time immemorial afflicted, and which, although it has caused his voice to appear like an infant Lablache screaming through horse-hair and thistles, yet has not very mate- rially affected him otherwise — should it not deprive him of existence — please Gog and Magog, he will, next season, visit every exhibition of modern art as soon as the pictures are hung ; and further, that he will most unequivo- cally be down with his coup de baton upon every unfortunate nob requiring his peculiar attention.
That he independently rejects the principles upon which these matters are generally conducted, he trusts this will be taken as an assurance : should the handsomest likeness-taker gratuitously offer to paint Punches portrait in any of the most favourite and fashionable styles, from the purest pro- duction of the general mourning school— and all performed by scissars — to the exquisitely gay works of the President of the Koyal Academy, even though his Presidentship offer to do the nose with real carmine, and throw Judy and the little one into the back-ground. Punch would not give him a single eulogistic syllable unmerited. A word to the landscape and other perpetrators : none of your little bits for Punch — none of your insinuating cabinet gems — ^no hxt-ful Union system of doing things — Hopkins to praise for one reason, Popkins to censure for another-^and as Punch has been poking his nose into numberless unseen corners, and, notwithstanding its indisputable dimensions, has managed to screen it from observation, he has thereby smelt out several pretty little affairs, which shall in due time be exhibited and explained in front of his proscenium, for special amuse- ment. In the mean time, to prove that Punch is tolerably well up in this line of pseudo-criticism, he has prepared the following description of the private view of either the Royal Academy or the Suffolk-street Gallery, or the British Institution, for 1843, for the lovers of this very light style of reading ; and to make it as truly applicable to the various specimens of art forming the collection or collections alluded to, he has done it after the peculiar manner practised by the talented conductor of a journal purporting to be exclusively set apart to that effort. To illustrate with what strict attention to the nature of the subject chosen, and what an intimate know- ledge of technicalities the writer above alluded to displays, and with what consummate skill he blends those peculiarities, the reader will have the kind- ness to attach the criticism to either of the works (hereunder catalogued) most agreeably to his fancy. It will be, moreover, shown that this is a thoroughly impartial way of performing the operation of soft anointment.
THE UNERRING FOR PORTRAITS ONLY:
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The head is extremely weU paint- ed, and the light and shade distri- buted with the artist's usual judg- ment.
OR thus:
An admirable likeness of the ori- ginal, and executed with that breadth and clearness so apparent in this clever painter's works.
OR THUS :
A well-drawn and brilliantly painted portrait, calculated to sus- tain the fame already gained by this our favourite painter.
Portrait, of the miscreant who at tempted to assassinate Mr. Macreatb.
Valentine Vermilion.
Portrait of His Majesty the King of Hanover. Bv the same.
Portrait of the boy who got into Buckingham Palace.
Gboffbry Glazbm.
Portrait of Lord John Russell.
Bv the same.
Portrait of W. Grurabletone, Esq., in the character of Joseph Surface.
Peter Palette.
Portrait of Sir Robert Peel.
By the same.
Portrait of the Empress of Russia.
Vanpyke Brown.
Portrait of the infant Princess.
By the SAME.j
Portrait of Mary Mumblegums, aged 170 years. By the same.^
{{c|THE UNERRING FOR EVERY SUBJECT:]}
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The Death of Abel.
Michael McGuelp.
Dead Game.
Thomas Ticelepencil.
Vesuvius in Eruption.
Charles Carmine, R.A.
Portraits of Mrs. Punch and Child.
R, W. Buss.
Cattle returning from the 'Watering Place. Rk Bullock.
“ We won’t go home till Morning.” |
M. Waterford, R.H.S.
The infant Cupid sleeping.
R. Dadd.
Portrait of Lord Palmerston.
A. L. L, Upton.
Coast Scene: Smugglers on the look out. H. Parker.
Portrait of Captain Rous, M.P.
J. WOOD^
Should the friends of any of the artists deem the praise a little too oily, they can easily add such a tag as the following : — In our humble judg- ment, a little more delicacy of handling would not be altogether out of place or, Beautiful as the work under notice decidedly is, we recollect to have received perhaps as much gratification in viewing previous produc- tions by the same,”
FOR THE HALF CONDEMNED:
This artist is, we much fear, on the decline ; we no longer see the vigour of handling and smartness of conception formerly apparent in his works : or, A little stricter atteution to drawing, as weU as composition, would render this artist’s works more recommendatory,”
THE TOTALLY CONDEMNED:
Either of the foUowing, taken conjointly or separately ; ** A perfect daub, possessing not one single quality necessary to create even the slightest in- terest — a disgrace to the Exhibition — who allowed such a wretched produc- tion to disgrace these walls ? — woefully out of drawing, and as badly coloured,” and such like.
A COMMENTARY ON THE ELECTIONS.
BY THE BEADLE OF SOMERSET HOUSE.
Well, lawks-a-day I things seem going on uncommon queer, For they say that the Tories are bowling out the Whigs almost everywhere ; And the blazing red of my beadle’s coat is turning to pink through fear. Lest Ishould find myself and staff out of office some time about the end of the year. I’ve done nothing so long but stand under the magnificent portico Of Somerset House, that I don’t know what I should do if I was for to go What the electors are at, I can’t make out, upon my soul. For it’s a law of natur’ that the whig should be atop of the poll. I’ve had a snug berth of it here for some time, and don’t want to cut the connexion ; ‘ But they do say the Whigs must go out, because they've no other elec- tion; What they mean by that, I know, for ain’t they been electioneering — That is, they’ve been canvassing, and spouting, and pledging, and ginning, and beering. Hasn’t Crawford and Pattison, Lyall, Masterman, Wood, and Lord John Russell, For ever so long been keeping the Great Metropolis in one alarming bussel ? Ain’t the two retired into private life— (that's the genteel for being rejected) ? And what’s more, the last four, strange to say, have all been elected. Then Finsbury Tom and Mr. Wakley, as wears his hair all over his coat collar, Hav’n’t they frightened Mr. Tooke, who once said he could beat them Hollar ? Then at Lambeth, ain’t Mr. Baldwin and Mr. Cabbell been both on ’em bottled By Mr, D’Eyncourt and Mr. Hawes, who makes soap yellow and mottled I And hasn’t Sir Benjamin Hall, and the gallant Commodore Napier, Made such a cabal with Cabbell and Hamilton as would make any chap queer ? Whilst Sankey, who was backed by a Cleave-r for Marrowbone looks cranky, Acos the electors, like lisping babbies, cried out No Sankee 9 ” Then South’ark has sent Alderman Humphrey and Mr. B. Wood, Who has promised, that if ever a member of parliament did his duty — he would ! Then for the Tower Hamlets, Robinson, Hutchinson, and Thompson, find that they’re in the wrong box. For the electors, though turned to Clay, still gallantly followed the Pox : Whilst Westminster’s chosen Rous — not Rouse of the Eagle — ^tho’ I once seed a Picture where there was a great big bird, very like a goose, along with a Lcda. And hasn’t Sir Robert Peel and Mr. A’Court been down to Tamworth to be reseated ? They ought to get an act of parliament to save them such fatigue, for its always — ditto repeated. Whilst at Leeds, Beckett and Aldam have put Lord Jocelyn into a consider- able fume. Who finds it no go, though he’s added up the poll-books several times with the calcinating boy, Joe Hume.
So if there's been no other election, I should like to find out What all the late squibbing and fibbing, placarding, and blackguarding losing and winning, beering and ginning, and every other et cetera, has been about !
TO THE BLACK-BALLED OF THE UNITED SERVICE.
Black bottles at Brighton,
To darken your fame ;
Black Sundays at Hounslow,
To add to your shame.
Black balls at the club,
Show Lord Hill’s growing duller :
He should change your command
To the guards of that colour.
