writing. He certainly received the earlier rudiments of his professional knowledge in the drawing-school of the Bellini. But, modestly animated by the lofty consciousness of genius, he despised the minuteness which was then and there conventional, and substituted for it an original freedom, breadth, and even audacity, by which his works are distinguished. Of this style, he was, at Venice, the inventor-the first painter who among the Venetians, produced a striking effect when his performances were viewed at a due distance. Lanzi adds, that from the youthful period of his life, when he felt sufficiently assured to assume this boldness and originality, he continued to ennoble his manner, rendering the contours more round and ample, the fore shortenings more new, and the expression of the countenances, as well as the motions of his figures, more warm and lively. His draperies too, with all the other accessories of the Art, became more select, his gradations of colour more soft and natural, and, above all, his chiar-oscuro more powerful and effective. While Vasari pretends that for this latter acquirement Giorgione was indebted to da Vinci, Boschini justly maintains that he was in this respect his own master and scholar.

The pictures of Giorgione were for the most part executed in fresco upon the façades of the Venetian houses, where till lately there remained a few relics, as if to remind the inquiring traveller of what had perished. His style, as compared with that of Paul Veronese and other of his more variegated and florid followers of the Venetian school, is analogous to the music of our grand and simple national anthem of "God save the King," as compared with the complicated harmony of more recent productions. There

are but few notes, but they are varied and combined with the most consummate power.-Alas! this highly distinguished artist died at the early age of thirtyfour, in the year 1511; and, with the exceptions of Titian and Sebastian, his productions, rather than the pupils he educated, remained to instruct his countrymen and posterity in the true art of painting.

A MUSIC PARTY.

TITIANO VECELLIO.

WHEN Titian was young, and soon after he had sat down to Art, he imitated natural objects with great exactness, bestowing such delicate attention on the minutiæ of his works, that he transcended, in this respect, even Albert Durer, whom he had at first chosen for his model. But when he saw the pictures of Giorgione, struck with their superior grandeur and simplicity, he at once quitted this elaborate style, and devoted himself to the attainment of that combination of breadth with suavity and rich colour, which distinguish the performances of this original painter, leaping toward his proper element, with the vigour and velocity of a spring which has been long held back. Lanzi says, that a few of the works which he produced, during this period of his life, are scarcely to be distinguished from those of Giorgione himself.

We apprehend the present Musical Party to be one of those few-probably painted not long after the regeneration of Titian's style. It has much the appearance of a fortuitous assemblage of concordant spirits; and so little the air of being studied accord

ing to preconceived rules of art, that little doubt need be entertained of its being merely a page of the artist's sketch book (assuming that he had one) transferred to canvass. Though it represents a concert, there is nothing in it pre-concerted. All is spontaneous, and done at sight (as the musical phrase is); even the chiar-oscuro seems accidental, and not a very fortunate accident, in as much as it attracts too large a portion of the spectator's regard, toward the somewhat heavy arm, and uninteresting white sleeve, of a young female singer, who appears waiting to chime in with her counter-tenour, and it allows too little of that regard to flow toward the mass of light, where the music book is introduced, with the singing boy and the upper part of a musical instrument. would appear that the sentiment of the picture should chiefly reside in this part, where the attention of all the performers is concentrated, but which we find graced with only a secondary and subservient light.

It

It is by no means unlikely, that this more important part was honoured with the principal light, when the picture came from the easel of Titian; for it has since travelled a good deal; like our first Charles, to whom it once belonged, it has been subject to vicissitudes to our regret, it has not been carefully preserved, and, doubtless, has partially lost its "original brightness," a warm glazing has apparently vanished from some of the faces. We but see it through the misty horizontal air of three intervening centuries, "shorn of its beams"-or of some of them, at least.

Five persons have here met together, to amuse themselves with music, or chance has thus brought them together.

One performs on the oboe, of which only the reed

is visible, (unless we mistake, the face of this oboeplayer, was once of a lower tone-a warm glazing appears to have departed from it). Another musician, distinguished by his red velvet cap and white plume, plays on the violoncello, or bass viol. He seems to lead the concert, and to be worthy to lead it. There is music thrilling through the nerves of that left hand, which presses the strings of the instrument to the finger-board.

The other three are vocalists; or, to speak more critically, one-a boy-is singing, and the other two are waiting to take up their respective parts in the trio. Of these two, one is an elderly man, with rather an intelligent head, and a look of judiciousness; he is habited in a dark purple brown, wears a black cap, and is apparently the instructor of the boy. He keeps time; and his upheld hand-which seems in slow motion-expresses both sympathy, and his anxiety that his pupil should be exact. The boy's face is, perhaps, a portrait: it has rather a mean character.

The young woman listens intently, seems to have an excellent ear; and there is concord throughout, in more senses than one. There is, moreover, a pervading musical tone. In other words, the painter has most ably expressed that general interest and intentness, felt by performers, who are really skilled in the art, which keeps the whole in unison, and confers on his work, what the professor Barry was accustomed to term "totality."

From what accordance in the present combination of light, shade, form, and colour, this symphonious sentiment results-" speak ye who best can tell." There is generally fervency and feeling, with some

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times, a superadded touch of mysticism, in the remarks of Hazlitt on works of art. Of the present picture, he says, "It is all ear.' This is pertinent and emphatic; what follows will, perhaps, be thought somewhat less so, though it still has pertinence: "The expression is evanescent as the sounds; the features are seen in a sort of dim chiar-oscuro, as if the confused impressions of another sense intervened-and you might easily suppose some of the performers to have been engaged the night before in

-" mask or midnight serenade,

Which the starv'd [qu. starr'd] lover to his mistress sings; Best quitted with disdain.”

It must appear but an equivocal compliment to a fine picture, when we cannot tell whether a certain effect, which we perceive in it, results from design, or damage; but we see not how to avert it, in the present case, without dissembling. If the dimness, and the pale faces, of the present work, proceed from the former, the penetration of our lost friend has discovered and declared the latent reason: but Hazlitt's veneration for the old masters, was somewhat superstitious, and exclusive; and we are, on the whole, led to question whether any thing so metaphysical, or recondite, would have occurred to him, had he been placed before a modern picture having the same peculiarity. But he who visits a picture gallery must bring with him the best part of the enjoymentnamely, his own good taste, or capacity for enjoying. It is else like going without an appetite to a splendid repast; or without an ear, to a concert.