collected works contains some of his most characteristic writing. The lectures on "Acquaintance with God" are valuable for the thoroughness and completeness of the author's treatment of the whole subject; those on "Redemption" express Mr. Hinton's views on most theological questions. They are, in fact, a finished and carefully elaborated re-composition of his well-known work on Theology. Mr. Hinton says, in the preface to the latter series of lectures, referring to the work of his early life, that his theological views remain unchanged from what they were. "It might seem," he adds, "that during half a century in which science and art have made such extraordinary progress, theology ought not to have been stationary; and, assuredly, with some divines it has been far from being so. I do not believe, however, in the progress of theology. I began and I end the study of it, not with a new book, but with an old one; and when I find that the views which I first thoughtfully derived from the oracles of God' have endured the frequent and earnest re-consideration to which, with no disregard of auxiliary lights, they have been subjected, and have otherwise, borne the wear and tear of a forty years' ministry, I am thankful." To which we can say, that if it be well that some should find new, it is equally well that others should be able to stand in the old paths. We are glad to see in this volume reports of two exceed ingly valuable single discourses, one on the "Church," and the other on the "Influence of Religion in the Families of the Working Classes". The question of what is the church? has never been more logically answered than in the first of these addresses. Mr. Hinton's remarks on the nonexistence of any body on the earth, scripturally entitled to be called the church, contains the whole answer to such works as the Apologia, and to all the theories of the High Church School. The other address is one of the most happy presentations of the subject of religion to a class that we have ever met with, and worth half the "tracts" that have ever been printed. It is a fair argument with men of self respect and reasoning power, and just the thing to lay hold of intelligent working men. The Pilgrims' Progress. By JOHN BUNYAN. Unabridged, with ninety-six illustrations. E. Stock. We feel that we ought to give the whole of this title, and there. fore to add the marvellous words "two pence." It is a fact that here are ninety-six illustrations in this reprint, and that these and sixty closely but clearly printed pages of print are sold for two pence. Need we say more? THE CHRISTIAN SPECTATOR. JULY, 1865. AT THE EXHIBITION OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY. MY FRIENDS AND I. WELL, we have met punctually, but ought to have fixed an earlier hour, for the rooms are already crowded, and I fear you will not be able to examine the pictures very satisfactorily; but we will do our best. Let me, however, first of all, give you one caution-viz., not to waste time, and distract the mind, and fatigue the eye by looking at all the pictures which seem to invite your notice. It will be quite enough for you, at all events on this first visit, to look at those only which are most worth seeing. And if by this means you can, in the course of three hours, obtain a tolerably correct impression of some fiveand-twenty or thirty really good pictures, you will have no reason to be dissatisfied with your morning's work. Ah, Miss Constance, I see you have already opened your catalogue at the first page, and are wondering what "The Return to their Native Heath" is. Very proper, no doubt, if you were going to "do" the Exhibition, to begin with No. 1, but we will pursue a better method; and I think, instead of confusing ourselves by mixing up all kinds of pictures together, we will just classify them, and so take landscape by itself, and figure pictures by themselves; so say which we shall begin with. Landscape? then be it so. And for the sake of convenient reference to the catalogue we will pass at once to the East room. What! you have halted already! arrested, I see, by a picture you caught sight of through the doorway of the North room. Well, I cannot blame you for yielding to the natural impulse to stop and look, for you won't see a finer picture of its kind on the walls of the Academy than that "Strayed Herd," No. 560, and it is well to begin with something altogether good. The artist has taken the picture-loving world by surprise, for he is comparatively unknown, having hitherto exhibited only a few small pictures that did not compel everybody's attention as this does. Mark it well, for the more you study it the more you will enjoy it, and the higher will your admiration of the artist rise. It was a bold thing to venture on-bold, but, as the result shows, not presumptuous. The painter's consciousness of power over his subject is fully justified. Even at first sight the picture is exceedingly pleasing; it gives nothing but pleasure, and the pleasure is pure and every way legitimate. "The earth is full of the glory of the Lord," and the painter, as His minister, has caught and fixed a portion of it for you. The picture you see is full of light-sunlight. Why, put it into a dark room, and the picture would lighten it. Then it is as full of atmosphere; you may breathe it and be refreshed. No wonder that the cattle are full of life. And the painter knows how to become himself as one of the herd. Only a man capable of great sympathy-I might, perhaps, say complete sympathy-with the creatures could have painted them so truly. Is there not the freedom of true and abundant life in them all? You see he has not timidly sought out easy attitudes for them. He has shirked none of the difficulty. Let them scamper as they will over hill and dale, let them excite one another to wildest, maddest action, they cannot throw the painter out. Well done, Mr. Davis, and since you can paint free life like this, may the Fates keep you far enough away from all temptation to waste your noble powers on fat, pudgy little lap-dogs of queasy dowagers, or sleek ponies with side-saddles for lack-a-daisical young ladies. If Constance should presently find the rooms hot and uncomfortable, she may return to this picture in the North room and be refreshed. Mark the name, there are more Davises than one; but this is H. W. B., and whenever hereafter you find his name to a picture, be sure to look at it. Now to the East room. "From some notices we have seen of pictures, we have marked a few in our catalogue, shall we stop at them as we pass, or postpone them?" Oh, you shall please yourselves, I am not entitled to be a very authoritative conductor, and will allow you some latitude. But now just look at this small picture by J. M. Carrick, No. 21. That bit of sea is wonderfully real. And that you may the better appreciate conscientious work, just come at once into the West room and notice the sea of an R.A., hung, of course, on the line, in a capital place. There, No. 366, by Mr. Lee; is there a sign painter in any county town that could not paint sea as well as that, or better even? I should think he painted it not merely in his studio, but in the dark, doing it all in half-an-hour. But your R.A.'s for the most part are the Prelates of Art; and though there are some bishops that can preach well, yet as a good sermon from a Right Reverend, and especially a Most Reverend, is somewhat exceptional, so is a good picture from an R.A., especially of the older type. "Oh! oh! treason, I declare. Constance, can we safely give our faith to our guide, think you? I fear he is a twofold heretic?" Sir Preacher, I cry you pardon. That reference to the Episcopal Bench, I grant you, was quite gratuitous, let it pass; and as to the Academicians, of course I meant my remark to be taken cum grano, and so taken I think it is to be justified. At all events thus much is true, that there are many men with no letters to their names who can paint incomparably better than some of the favoured forty, who have a right to exhibit eight pictures each, and to have them all hung on the line. But now, if the sea of Mr. Lee's has produced its proper effect (No, young lady, I was not thinking of your experience in the Irish Channel),—we will return to the East room. And when you have looked again at No. 24, we will pass on to another by the same artist. No. 33, "Ogmore Castle," is a bit of very pure painting. The subject, you see, is very simple; but how true to nature the artist is. The more you can admire pictures like this, the better for you. And here, close by, is one of three by G. Mason (Nos. 31, 229, 240), all whose work is very delightful. At first sight it looks slight and sketchy perhaps, but it is simply that the effect is produced without effort. There is the ease of a master. He feels the beauty of the delicious evening, the sky is in his very soul, and the hand silently and swiftly obeys the instinct to render it. Those geese are positively alive, that gander's hiss at the frightened child you may hear, and her fear you may almost feel. I envy the possessor of Mr. Mason's charming, simple pictures. They would always be a happy compensation if debarred from a pleasant summer evening's stroll. I declare there is Miss Constance trying to steal a glimpse of Frith's great picture, "The Marriage of their Royal Highnesses the Prince of Wales and the Princess Alexandra of Denmark." Nay, young lady, no excuse; very pardonable. And if you can get a view of it now you had better avail yourself of the opportunity, for it is the one picture which everybody is anxious to see. A wedding in high life is, of course, attractive, and who would not like to see how a Prince looks in the act of putting the ring on the finger of a lovely Princess? And if a crowd of stylish people, for whom Court tailors and milliners have done their uttermost, and who are all dressed in highly proper courtdresses, is not exactly what a true artist would choose to paint in preference to all other things upon this beautiful earth, let us only the more pity a clever painter, possessed of adequate technical skill, who is doomed, perhaps for his sins, to spend his precious days on such work. I dare say it is done as well as it could be done. And the place is full of interest, and the faces are likenesses. And long live Alexandra, say I; and may the Prince prove himself as utterly unlike all the Georges as possible. And so I leave you to Mr. Frith, R.A., and when Miss Constance has sufficiently admired the silks and satins, and uniforms, and lawn sleeves, she will find me at her service. Well, now you are escaped from St. George's Chapel, we will have a look at the last picture we shall pause at in this room while confining ourselves to landscape, "Morant's Court in May," No. 137, by John Brett. As it is the only picture by this artist that is hung this year, you must observe it well. It is one of two pictures of a house near Sevenoaks, in Kent, which being about to be pulled down, a gentleman to whom it was dear from its associations wished to have a pleasant memento of, and so commissioned Mr. Brett to paint a couple of pictures. That the subject was not chosen by the artist must be borne in mind, as he is, therefore, answerable only for the treatment, and so the merit of such a work will be to a great extent technical. I expect his brother artists will consider this equal to anything he has done, and indeed the work, I suppose, as work, is perfect. Here you are "ankle-deep in English grass." The month is May, buttercups are plentiful, and the dandelion, you see, is everywhere overblown. There is marvellous exquisiteness of touch and unsurpassable delicacy and refinement about all this artist's work, and he renders Nature as he sees her, and his sight is wonderful. By the by, did not Mr. Ruskin, who bought his "Val d'Aosta," speak of him as all eye and thumb? He sees truly, and renders accurately what he sees. This is high praise: but still, in looking at his productions, I am rather reminded of the text (ah, my reverend friend, I thought you would prick up your ears at the word), "Moses was faithful as a servant," and I confess-if the borrowing of the phrase be allowable-I sometimes desiderate the faithfulness of the son. Mr. Brett sent a larger and very fine picture this year, painted in Capri, but, though the Committee had received and even placed it, the Council removed it, and, so far as I can judge, simply for want of room. If only a third of the pictures sent can be hung, many deserving of a good place must nevertheless be excluded, no doubt. And Mr. Millais, I understand, tried hard to have Mr. Brett's Italian picture retained; but in vain. |