Mr Frederick Reynolds, the veteran dramatist, has, by the aid of Mr.
W.H. Brooke, produced an amusing and elegant volume of a Playwright's
Adventures, under the above title, Mr. Brooke's contributions are a
plentiful sprinkling of Cuts, full of point and humour, and dovetailed
by the Editor with no lack of ingenuity. The Narrative itself purports
to be a series of adventures, or a volume of accidents to a young
playwright in quest of dramatic fortune, with a due admixture of love
and murder, and "a happy union."--These are relieved by pungent attempts
at repartee and harmless raillery, so as to make the dialogue portion
glide off pleasantly enough. Instead of quoting an entire chapter from
the volume, we are enabled to transfer to our pages a few of its
epigrammatic illustrations. First, is what Mr. Reynold calls _l'auteur
sifflè_, but this, for the sake of comprehensiveness, we style the
damned author.
[Illustration: THE DAMNED AUTHOR.]
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Mr. Reynolds seems to hold with Swift, that the merriest faces are in
mourning coaches, for his hero at a funeral introduces one of the best
cuts. Thus--
On Vivid's return home, his gratification was soon diminished by
the recollections of "existing circumstances," and these caused him
to sink into a gloomy and desponding state; when Sam Alltact, rather
_malapropos_, entered with a black-edged card, inviting his master
to the funeral of a deceased acquaintance, an eminent young artist,
named Gilmaurs, who, never having been an R.A., but simply an engraver
of extraordinary genius, was not to be buried under the dome of St.
Paul's, but in a village churchyard.
[Illustration: THE HANGING COMMITTEE.]
Vivid could not help remarking to a brother mourner, that, in his
opinion, the profession of a painter was as much overrated as that of an
engraver was underrated: "for," he added, "what real and unprejudiced
connoisseur, while contemplating Woollett's Roman Edifices from Claude,
and Sir Robert Strange's Titian's Mistress from Titian, with many
others, would not acknowledge, that the copy in many instances so
rivalled, if not surpassed, the original, that it became a decided
question, which artist ought to carry off the palm?"
"Or, at any rate," cried an odd accordant theatrical companion, "the
connoisseur might say, with Shakspeare--
'Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew?'"
"There is no doubt, that in any school of painting," continued our hero,
"such men as Reynolds, West, and Lawrence, cannot be too much upheld
whilst living or lauded and regretted when dead. There is likewise
Wilkie--another Hogarth----"
"I beg your pardon," rejoined the theatrical gentleman; "but till I can
forget the blunderbuss fired from the upsetting coach, the cobweb over
the poor's-box, and the gay parson and undertaker at the harlot's
funeral, I cannot allow of the comparison. Besides, I admire Hogarth
for another reason: did _he_ consider an engraver's to be an
_infradig._ profession? No, for he was the engraver of _his
own_ works."
"True," replied Vivid; "and other painters have been engravers.
But to the point: look at the variety of the exquisite engravings
in the Annuals; and having compared them with the large, coarse,
_mindless_ pictures in--what may be called another _annual_--the
Exhibition of the Royal Academy, then say, whether you do not prefer the
distinct delicate touches of a well-directed _burin_, to the broad,
trowel-like splashings of an ill-directed painting-brush?"
"I do; and whilst I bow down to the excellence of such a portrait as
that of Charles the First, by Vandyke, or that of Robin Goodfellow, by
Sir Joshua, _cum multis aliis_ by painters of the same pre-eminent
description--ay, and also whilst I greatly admire numerous pictures
still annually exhibited by highly talented living artists, I ask, if I
am not to speak my mind relative to that class of painting, which might
pass muster outside the inns at Dartford, or Hounslow, or ----. However,
'the lion preys not upon carcasses,' and, therefore, I will leave these
canvass-spoilers to the judgment of those, who will show them in their
proper light--viz. the hanging-committee."
The funeral being concluded, they return to town, Vivid agreeing with
his odd companion in leaving the canvass-spoilers to the _hanging
committee_.
Is it not to be hoped that a day may come when a thorough revision and
amelioration of our equity laws will be deemed a matter of as great
national importance as that chief occupier of the time of our grand
_rural Capulets_ and _Montagues_, the revision and amelioration
of the game laws.
[Illustration]
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