The witness produced against me proved the correctness of my statement in every particular; and the consequence was a decision in my favor. Turning, then, to my master, I said: You have stated your dissatisfaction with me, and apprehensions of my doing you a private injury; under these circumstances, you can have no objection to returning my indentures.' Mr. Wilson was not prepared for this, but the alderman immediately said, 'Yes, Mr. Wilson, you must give the boy his indentures. They were accordingly handed over to me; and I was so overjoyed that, without waiting longer, I bowed and thanked the Court, and running off to the coach-factory, flourished the indentures over my head, crying, 'I have got my indentures, and your master has taken a false oath; and I don't know whether he is not in the pillory by this! My family were delighted with the spirit I had displayed, and at my emancipa tion from an occupation they saw was uncongenial; and my father at once took measures to place me under an Italian master of great merit and some reputation in Newcastle, named Boniface Musso, the father of the celebrated enamel painter, Charles Musso or Muss. I remained under his instructions about a year, when Mr. C. Muss, who was settled in London, wished his father to come and reside with him, and M. Musso urged upon my parents the advantage of my accompanying him. After much cogitation, many misgivings on my mother's part, and solemn charges to our friend, it was ultimately agreed that I should join him in London within a few months. I accordingly arrived in London at the beginning of September, 1806." Martin did not remain long with the Mussos. Allowing him to tell his own story-as it has already appeared, à propos of quite another matter, in our own columns:-"I was not seventeen when I first arrived in London, where I was to be under the protection of Boniface Muss, or Musso, a clever master, the father of Charles Muss, the celebrated enamel painter. My first resolve on leaving my parents was, never more to receive that pecuniary assistance which I knew could not be spared, and by perseverance I was enabled to keep this resolution. Some months after my arrival in London, finding I was not so comfortable as I could wish in Mr. C. Muss's family, I removed to a room in Adam Street West, Cumberland Place, and it was there that, by the closest application till two and three o'clock in the morning, in the depth of winter, I obtained that knowledge of perspec tive and architecture which has since been so valuable to me. I was at this time, during the day, employed by Mr. C. Muss's firm, painting on china and glass, by which, and making water-color drawings, and teaching, I supported myself; in fact, mine was a struggling artist's life when I married, which I did at nineteen. It was now indeed necessary for me to work, and as I was ambitious of fame, I determined on painting a large picture. I therefore, in 1812, produced my first work, 'Sadak in search of the Waters of Oblivion,' which was executed in a month. You may easily guess my anxiety, when I overheard the men who were to place it in the frame disputing as to which was the top of the picture! Hope almost forsook me, for much depended on this work. It was, however, sold to the late Mr. Manning, the Bank director, for fifty guineas, and well do I remember the inexpressible delight my wife and I experienced at the time. My next works were Paradise,' which was sold to a Mr. Spong for seventy guineas, and 'The Expulsion,' which is in my own possession. My next painting, Clytie,' 1814, was sent to Mr. West, the President, for his inspection, and it was on this occasion that I first met Leslie, now so deservedly celebrated. I shall never forget the urbane manner with which West introduced us, saying, 'that we must become acquainted, as young artists who, he prophesied, would reflect honor on their respective countries." To this gossip we may addthat 'Sadak'-Martin's first picture-was hung in the Royal Academy; and was sold, it is believed, in consequence of a notice in one of the journals. The Expulsion' was sent to the British Institution, the 'Paradise' to the Academy, where it obtained a place in the Great Room. This circumstance seemed to Martin the winning of his spurs; and the next year, when the Clytie' here mentioned was hung in one of the ante-rooms, he resented the act as an insult to his fame. His next picture was 'Joshua:' this was also put into the ante-room, though, when it was afterwards exhibited in Pall Mall, it attracted much attention, and carried off the prize of the year. The picture, however, hung in the painter's studio for years; and was not sold until his fame was well established and widely spread. It then found a purchaser as a companion piece to the Belshazzar's Feast.' To return to Mr. Martin's own notes of his life: "Down to this period I had supported myself and family by pursuing almost every branch of my profession-teaching-painting 1854.] JOHN MARTIN, THE ARTIST. small oil-pictures, glass enamel paintings, In another letter Mr. Martin tells how he came to paint his most celebrated-if not his best-work. "My picture of Belshazzar's Feast,'" he says, "originated in an argument with Allston. He was himself going to paint the subject, and was explaining his ideas, which appeared to me altogether wrong, and I gave him my conception; he then told me that there was a prize poem at Cambridge, written by Mr. T. S. Hughes, which exactly tallied with my notions, and advised me to read it. I did so, and determined on painting the picture. I was strongly dissuaded from this by many, among others, Leslie, who so entirely differed from my notions of the treatment, that he called on purpose, and spent part of a morning in the vain endeavor of preventing my committing myself, and so injuring the reputation I was obtaining. This opposition only confirmed my intentions, and in 1821 I exhibited my picture." In the succeeding year Martin produced his 'Destruction of Herculaneum,'in 1823 appeared The Seventh Plague,' and the 'Paphian Bower,'-in 1824 the 'Creation,' -in 1826 the 'Deluge'-and in 1828 the Fall of Nineveh.' This completed the cycle. of his greater works. The artist's illustrations of Milton-for which he received 2,000 guineas-were drawn by him on the plates. His principal pictures are or were in the galleries of Mr. Hope, Lord De Tabley, the Dukes of Buckingham and Sutherland, Prince Albert, Mr. Šearisbrick, and Earl Grey. Of late Mr. Martin's name has been much and very honorably before the public in connection with various plans for the improvement of London; his genius dealing with the ample spaces and actual facts of the modern Babylon, as it had previously done with those of the imagination. Other schemes also occupied his mind. As he himself reports of all these multiplied activities," My attention was first occupied in endeavoring to procure an improved supply of pure water to London, diverting the sewage from the river, and rendering it available as manure; and in 1827 and 1828 I published plans for the purpose. In 1829 I published further plans for accomplishing the same objects by different means, namely, a weir across the Thames, and for draining the marshy lands, &c. In 1832, 1834, 1836, 1838, 1842, 1843, 1845, and 1847, I published and republished additional particulars-being so bent upon my object that I was determined never to abandon it; and though I have reaped no other advantage, I have at least the satisfaction of knowing that the agitation thus kept up constantly, solely by myself, has resulted in a vast alteration in the quantity and quality of water supplied by the companies, and in the establishment of a Board of Health, which will, in all probability, eventually carry out most of the objects I have been so long urging. Amongst the other proposals which I have advanced is my railway connecting the river and docks with all the railways that diverge from London, and apparently approved by the Railway Termini Commissioners, as the line they intimate coincides with that submitted by me, and published in their report -the principle of rail adopted by the Great Western line-the lighthouse for the sands appropriated by Mr. Walker in his Maplin Sand lighthouse-the flat anchor and wire cable-mode of ventilating coal-mines-floating harbor and pier-iron ship, and various other inventions of comparatively minor importance, but all conducing to the great ends of improving the health of the country, increasing the produce of the land, and furnishing employment for the people in remunerative works." Into the grounds of Mr. Martin's long More than once we quarrel with the Royal Academy it is not our purpose now to enter. have quoted the exclusion of the painter of 'Belshazzar's Feast' as one of those facts which impeach the present constitution of that body. We may state, however, that the quarrel between the One and the Fortyas in the case of Haydon-was of ancient date; and that the permanent exclusion of Martin from the Academy was the result of his independence rather than of their blind ness or jealousy. When the world was at the popular painter's feet, the Forty would have been glad enough to admit an illustration into their number. Martin, from the heights of popular favor, chose to look down on the honors to be gained in Somerset House or Trafalgar Square. He withdrew his name from the books, and the Academicians, however willing to elect him, had lost the power. The painter was seized with the illness which has terminated his career on the 12th of November. While engaged in paintingbeing apparently in the enjoyment of good health-he was suddenly attacked with a paralytic stroke, which deprived him of the use of speech and of his right hand. His family was assured that recovery from the attack was improbable, but hope was held out that he would not soon be taken away. About a fortnight after the seizure he ceased to take food, except in the very smallest quantities, giving to his attendants the impression that in so doing he was acting on some principle which he had accepted in his own mind, though he had no longer the power to explain the why and wherefore. Nothing would induce him to change this system of rigid abstinence, and the consequence was, that nature received an inefficient sustenance from without, and he gradually sank in strength and spirits until the 17th inst., when he ceased to breathe about six in the evening. Up to within an hour of his death he was conscious, and he appeared to suffer no pain. The mind of the artist kept its tone and his hand its power to the last. He was working on pictures illustrative of the Last Judgment within a few weeks of his death-the Judgment,' the 'Day of Wrath,' and the Plains of Heaven.' On these large works he had been employed for the last four years on them be may be said to have spent the last efforts of his genius. last efforts of his genius. He was painting on the Plains of Heaven' within an hour of starting for the little island where he breathed his last. Of course these works are left unfinished. Within a fortnight of his death, he sat to his son, Mr. Charles Martin, for a sketch of his head; and he then pointed out, in his son's sketch, the artistic faults with a perfect understanding of their nature. Mr. Martin has left several children-all of them grown up. A CUNNING TRICK.-Dr. Walcot, the celebrated Peter Pindar, was an eccentric character, and had a great many queer notions of his own. A good story is told by one of his contemporaries of the manner in which he once tricked his publisher. The latter wishing to buy the copyright of his works, offered him by letter a life annuity of £200. The Doctor, learning that the publisher was very anxious to purchase, demanded £300. In reply, the latter appointed a day on which he would call on the Doctor, and talk the matter over. On the day assigned, the cunning Doctor received him in entire deshabille, even to the night-cap; and having aggravated the sickly look of a naturally cadaverous face by purposely abstaining from the use of a razor for some days, he had all the appearance of a candidate for quick consumption. Added to this, the crafty author assumed a hollow and most sepulchral cough, such as would excite the pity of even a sheriff's officer, and make a rich man's heir crazy with joy. The publisher, however, refused giving more than £200, till suddenly the Doctor broke out into a violent fit of coughing, which produced an offer of £250. This the Doctor peremptorily refused, and was seized almost instantly with another even more frightful and longer-protracted attack, that nearly suffocated himwhen the publisher, thinking it impossible that such a man could live long, raised his offer, and closed with him at £300. The old rogue lived some twenty-five or thirty years afterwards! FRENCH literature is rich in satire; it is a weapon which comparatively few of its writers have not handled, and the only one which many of its greatest have employed. It would, perhaps, be invidious to search out the cause too closely; whether it be that there is a national propensity to aim at a mark, and a national dexterity in hitting it, or whether, rather, there are inherit qualities in the people themselves which peculiarly tempt to this mode of flagellation. We are very far from meaning to imply, by the last remark, that the distinguished French satirists are merely the satirists of their own nation. If it were so, they would hold a far inferior place than they in fact Occupy-a place which Montaigne, Rochefoucault, and La Bruyère have attained, not by their acute discernment and skilful exposure of the follies and vices of French society, but by the profounder insight which penetrates into and dissects the heart of human nature in the abstract; which is moved everywhere by the same springs and motives of action. Nevertheless, though we grant that these authors spoke truth of mankind in general, and not what was mainly applicable to Frenchmen, yet we find in their writings a certain tone and style which will not let us forget that their observatory was fixed at Paris or Versailles, and that civilized society at large was viewed to a certain extent through a strong national medium. The object of La Bruyère, the celebrated author of the "Characters," was professedly to hold up to condemnation and ridicule the manners and morals of his countrymen and women during the reign of Louis XIV.; so that in his case the reader would have no right to complain, should he find himself called upon to view mankind under a peculiar rather than a universal aspect. But he need not fear; La Bruyère, acute philosopher and thoughtful moralist that he was, was not likely to stop short in his observations on the threshold of a palace, or even at the gates of a city; but, looking beyond and deeper, described man as he is to be found at all times, in all places, while he only undertook to delineate his compatriots. A few words suffice for his history; for perhaps the life of no other literary man is so completely barren of incident and interest as that of La Bruyère. The instinctive desire that we all feel to know something of the man whose works profit or please us, is at fault His biographers have exhausted their here. materials in the following statements: "Jean de la Bruyère was born at Dourdon, (in Normandy,) in 1639; some say 1644. He held the office of Treasurer of France, at Caen, until he was summoned to Paris as teacher of history to the Duc de Bourbon, under the direction of Bossuet. At Paris he remained until the end of his life, attached to the Prince in the quality of homme de lettres, with a thousand crowns' pension. He published his 'Characters' in 1687; was received into the French Academy in 1693; afterwards.' years and died three If the meagreness of these facts disappoints his admirers, it leaves them open to draw a flattering inference as regards his character. "He lived in the house of a prince," as a French writer remarks. "He excited against himself a crowd of vicious and ridiculous men, whom he portrayed in his book, or who believed that they were portrayed therein; he had all the enemies which satire provokes and success creates." And, undoubtedly, the fact that there is nothing on record against his conduct and character, when the malignity which he had aroused would have been so eager to have preserved and exaggerated every error and inconsistency, goes almost to prove that both must have been unimpeachable. "They have described him to me," says the Abbé d'Olivet, "as a philosopher who only cared to live tranquilly with his friends and books, making an excellent choice of both; neither shunning nor seeking pleasure; always disposed for temperate enjoyment, and ingenious in promoting it; polished in his manners, and wise in his conversation; fearing every kind of ambition, even that of showing 66 his wit and talents." The last pleasing trait, The last pleasing trait, however, is directly contradicted by Boileau, who, writing of La Bruyère to Racine, says, He would want nothing, if nature had made him as agreeable as he desires to be." It is, of course, impossible for us to decide whose testimony is to be rejected, but I think we should take into account that there is a possibility of class jealousy in the one case, and that Boileau would scarcely be able to let the opportunity of saying a smart thing escape him. The publication of the "Characters" made what we now hear called "an intense sensation in the literary and reading world" of Paris and Versailles. The book consists of different subjects, divided into chapters, and discussed in paragraphs having no relation one to the other. It is absurd to say that the author wrote thus, in order that he might avoid the difficulties of transition. To write his book in fragments, and as detached thoughts, suited his plan; and, moreover, in avoiding monotony, which is the stumblingstone of works of this class, he overcame a far greater difficulty. Sometimes he expresses himself with epigrammatic brevity; but for the most part the work is made up, as the title implies, of the delineations of such characters as then moved around him, and still move around us, and which he satirizes at his ease under some antique or fantastic name. The acuteness, nicety of discernment, and occasional depth of observation which these sketches display, added to the wit that flavors them, and the exquisite style in which they are written, raise La Bruyère to the highest place among satirical moralists. In short, his portraits are elaborated to perfection; every stroke tells; and the delicacy of each successive stroke is inimitable, while, at the same time, he is consummate master of all the arts of composition. "There is not," says M. Suard, perhaps a single beauty of style peculiar to our idiom, examples and models of which may not be found in this writer." Foreigners inevitably miss some of those subtle excellences on which the abovementioned critic expatiates with prolonged enthusiasm. And it is precisely these merits in La Bruyère which render him one of the most difficult authors to translate; and that to such an extent, that, in spite of the worldwide celebrity of his name, comparatively few translations have ever been attempted. In the extracts we are about to make, we shall content ourselves with rendering, in intelligible English, our author's meaning, without any vain attempt to do justice to his | style. Before we proceed, take these two portraits as a specimen of the skill of La Bruyère: "Giton's complexion is fresh; he has a full face, hanging cheeks, a fixed and confident eye, square shoulders, high stomach, and a firm and deliberate gait; he talks with decision; he makes those who converse with him repeat what they say; and all that they do say he finds but indifferently good; he displays an ample pocket-handkerchief, and blows his nose like a trumpet; he spits far, and sneezes loud; he sleeps during the day as well as during the night, and that profoundly; he snores in company; he takes up more room at table and on the promenade than any one else; he takes the middle place when he walks with his equals; he stops, and they stop-goes on, and they go on; all take their cue from him; he interrupts; he puts those right who are speaking; they interrupt not, but listen as long as he thinks proper to speak; they are of his opinion, and believe the news he tells. If he sit down, you see him bury himself in an easy-chair, cross one leg over the other, knit his brow, pull down his hat, that he may see no one, or push it back, and display the pride and effrontery of his expression. He is jocular; a great laugher; impatient, presumptuous, and choleric; he is both libertine and politician, and mysterious about affairs of state; he believes he has talents and is a wit. He is rich." M. Suard, in his critical notice of La Bruyère, speaking of this passage, remarks, that the words, "he is rich, thrown in at the end of the portrait, strike the reader like a flash of lightning, which, reflected back upon the preceding details, give them new brilliancy, and produce an extraordinary effect." But what sagacious reader has not anticipated his author, and recognized the original of the portrait ere the last touch is given? The converse sketch, which is, perhaps, superior, and hath a deep touch of pathos in it, we feel it our duty to add: "Phedon has hollow eyes, his complexion is flushed, his frame sapless, and his face lean; he sleeps little, and his sleep is very light; he is abstracted, dreamy, and, though a man of talent, has the air of a fool; he forgets to say what he knows, and to speak of events with which he is acquainted; or, if he sometimes does it, he acquits himself but ill; he believes he bores those to whom he speaks, and tells his story briefly and coldly; he does not succeed in gaining attention; he never raises a laugh; he applauds, he smiles |