But what the tumults of his troubled breast?
See! on its chords the victrix sank to rest,
Pouring her song-soul in that matchless flood
Of rapturous sound. Still now each vale and wood
Vocal no more-the champion of the grove
Had wing'd her flight to milder climes of love;
There to new springs the meads and flowers among

Still counts her glorious prize of heaven-born song.

In his drama of the "Deformed Transformed," Lord Byron has a singular allusion to the nightingale, as applied to the horrors of the storm of Rome.

Arnold.-To-morrow sounds the assault with the first cock-crow.
Casar.-Which if it end with

The evening's first nightingale, will be

Something new in the annals of great sieges ;
For men must have their prey after long toil.

Compared with other birds, the nightingale is solitary and timid. This timidity is alluded to by Linnæus ; and it is thought to give her that restless motion of the tail (whence her name of motacilla), except when singing-a tremulous vibratory one, as if she were about to leave the spot. But far from it; though apparently so uneasy, if frightened away she will return to the place, and begin the same movement. By this love of locality she has been frequently taken prisoner. The philomela and luscinia of the Romans, the rossignol of the French and Spanish, and the rosignuolo of Italy, the English nightingale is said to be of two species, and is known to be a bird of passage. The rubicilla is more probably a variety differing only in regard to size and colour-having a reddish tail, with a dark beak and black legs. This variety is fond of low branches, old decayed timber, and broken dilapidated walls. The American species is a smaller bird than ours, which is rather less and thinner than a common sparrow. The beak and legs are both longish, the eye large and bright, a wide orange yellow-coloured throat-plainly to be seen in the flush of song. The colour on the whole is dull-a dark grey, slightly tinged with green and yellow, growing brighter on the tips of the wings and tail. The other parts are more of an ashen grey; and the breast, neck and body (if she really has a body). In different seasons and in different countries these colours vary as much as the habits of the bird, and the tone and compass of its song. The species most haunting the deep glen and lake and low wood, is the finest, and most distinguished for its music. The lover of the open champaign is somewhat less-and less in its power of note; and the mountain haunter the least of all. Sɔme, (as Belon), also make out another species-still only a variety-for the rivers and streams are resorted to by all kinds.

It is still doubtful whither the nightingale carries her song during the winter months. All travellers agree that it is not to Africa. In summer, gentle acclivities near the glen and the stream, and often where there is an echo, are the favourite haunts. She is as choice in the selection of locality for song as of the deep still hour when other birds are silent 'neath her spell. She feels her power, and nothing more inspires her than that no other sounds than hers fill the heavens. There is at times not only a sweet complaint, but a kind of reproach, and even satire in her notes:

From grave to gay-from lively to severe.

Like Paganini on his single chord, she executes a thousand new bursts and fugues with a "little bill." With us the first month after spring, from the end of April to June, is the time of full song, before the cares of a family subdue the thrilling ardours of the lovers into more softened strains.

70

THE DUDLEY GALLERY.

THE fourth exhibition of water-colour drawings, at the Dudley Gallery, is certainly equal, if not superior, to either previous exhibition. There is no picture so strikingly first-rate as the "King Lear," exhibited last year, by Mr. Madox Brown, but the average is more interesting, and there are a few works which stand out as first-rate in colour, several which are striking for delicate poetic sentiment besides, and many of more ordinary and, therefore, more general interest, deserving admiration. To begin with those which excel in colour, we are glad to notice the genius of Miss Marie Spartali, whose picture of "Christina, a study," more than fulfils the promise foretold by her studies exhibited at previous exhibitions. It is a poem in colour, if such an expression can be used, tender, harmonious, and rich. The head, wreathed in myrtle, is so absolutely perfect in colour, that, were we to search among all the old masters and the new, we could find nothing of the kind to surpass it. The white dress, the black gauze scarf, bordered by a pretty garland in many-coloured silks, the string of amber, coral buttons, and delicately worked black brooch and earrings, each and all fall into their places in the harmonious whole, producing the feeling of delight in those who love colour which nature excites, and which, when expressed by human genius, excites a human interest and sympathy in the artist. Of all absurdities in teaching art the greatest is to try and lay down rules for colouring. All that can be done is to develope natural instinct. If students have not a natural instinct for beautiful colour they should take to a branch of art which does not require colour, for it is useless trying to learn an instinct. An eye for colour is the indispensable gift of a painter. Has he an eye for beauty of form without colour, he should take to sculpture, if for light and shade, to chiaro-oscuro drawing; but if he paints he must paint colour well, or he has missed the point of his art. Miss Spartali has this gift in rare perfection, but her drawing is faulty. Colour, to those who enjoy it, is more than engrossing-it is intoxicating; and unless an eye for delicacy of form and curvature is not keen as an instinct, it is very difficult to labour at the acquirement of such a perception, when the expression of the rarer gift comes with ease. But no colourist will be generally appreciated or understood, if he does not devote himself to that labour, and if he sets about it the right way he will be a better draughtsman than the artist who has not the gift for colour, as this helps the other, and is at least the sign of an artistically sensitive perception. We hope Miss Spartali will work hard at drawing, and

should she succeed in acquiring power in drawing she will be one of the most interesting artists of the day.

Mr. Holman Hunt has sent a beautiful little view of Florence at night, the lights from the Ponte Vecchio and the shore throwing their reflections into the Arno. Needless to say it is interesting and true in colour.

Mr. Simson Solomon has mastered the beauty of gold. We remember noticing at a former exhibition a slight sketch by Mr. Solomon which gave in rough, but with more force, the peculiar beauty of the tints of gold. The subject was three priests in gold vestments, blazing in dazzling sunlight. This year he has three magnificent drawings, highly finished, number 252 giving in detail the varied and lovely tones of gold. The subject is "Heliogabalus, High Priest of the Sun, and Emperor of Rome, 118-122, A.D." Mr. Solomon has succeeded in expressing the richness, delicacy, and brilliancy of the metal, and has enhanced it with an original and telling contrast. The figure is surrounded by heavy slate-coloured marble walls, reflecting here and there subdued tones of rich gold from the figure. The maroon drapery and creamy white under-skirt, glittering with lines of gold, are perfect in colour and drawing, as also the elegant glass vase filled with red wine, holding a spray of gold leaves. Mr. Solomon's love for golden. tints is expressed in his picture of Bacchus, in the creamy tints of the flesh, and the lights of the leopard-skin hanging over part of the figure. There is much expressional beauty in the face. The third picture is less interesting, though powerfully painted.

A study of "Woodcock and Snipe," by Henry M. Cooper (No. 415), gives elaborately and truly the varied tints of brown and grey. "Luccombe Chine, Isle of Wight," by Frank Walton, and "Calves," by John Richardson, both strikingly give the effect of the strong tints, blue on black in the light-the first in the wings of the daws flying against the light green of the hill, the second on the calves, which are lying in a shed, the light coming on them through a door open behind them. "The Apple Girl," by Joseph Knight, is strong and true in colour, though commonplace in other ways.

Amongst those pictures which struck us most from their delicate poetic sentiment, we must first mention one by Mr. Robert Bateman, to which these lines are annexed

When a daffodil I see,

Hanging down his head t'wards me,
Guess I may what I shall be ;

First, I shall decline my head,

Secondly, I shall be dead,
Lastly, safely buried.

There is much grace in the figure, which the quaintness does not

overbalance, as in many modern pictures of the same kind. The gliding action of the figure is suggestive of the idea of the lines-the passing away to future things; the tints are of delicate, tender, but saddened hues, and the accessories all in keeping. Mr. Walter Crane sends an interesting picture to Shelley's lines

My soul is an enchanted boat,
Which, like a sleeping swan, doth float

Upon the silver waves of thy sweet singing, etc.

The feeling of the picture is sweet, and fully enters into the dreamy fancy of the lines.

All Mr. J. C. Moore's drawings are more or less interesting. No. 271, "The Shady Sadness of a Vale," is full of melancholy tender feeling. Mr. Livett, though by means of very different tones of colour, infuses much sad feeling into his subjects. Mr. R. Spencer Stanhope has not, in "Ariadne in Naxos," given us such an interesting work as many which he has previously exhibited. And lastly, of those pictures which are more ordinary in feeling, though in many cases cleverer in execution, we must first mention Mr. F. S. Mark's most clever "Mayday in the Olden Time," the dresses and other accessories so genuinely quaint and old-fashioned, the whole painted with such ease, power, and fancy as to be truly delightful. The "Fish Auction, Whitby, Yorkshire," by Mr. Edwin Cockburn, is patiently elaborate and real. Mr. Arthur Severn's "Falmouth Harbour" is also real and clever, but he has certainly chosen the sky when it has its dirtiest appearancesurely he must have a spite against Falmouth, to paint it in such an unbecoming guise. His other picture, "Evening after a Storm," is beautiful, as well as real and clever. "Wapping," by Mr. Charles E. Holloway, "Noonday," Mr. J. Smith Williamson, "Evening Shadows," Mr. Vicat Cole, "Arran, from the Sea," Mr. George S. Hall, "Southampton Pier-Twilight, after Rain," Mr. Harry Goodwin, "The Valley of the Aruu," by Albert Goodwin, and several other landscapes, all contain much to be admired. Mr. J. W. Bottomley has painted splendid puppy, which he entitles "The Puppy in White." Mr. G. H. Thomas's "Last Lot," Mr. Leslie's "Olive" and "Barbara," "Tit Bits in December," by Miss Florence Peel, "From Land and Sea," Miss Pauline Taylor, and a "Head from Life," Miss Caroline Vyvyan, are all in their several ways excellent. Mr. Albert Moore has some "Drapery Studies," which are interesting.