are esteemed, and their professors
rewarded according to their excellence. The age in which Titian lived
was famous for literary men, who had made the republic of Venice known
and honoured through the whole of Italy. The praises of Michael Angelo
bestowed on the works of the great Venetian, had adorned the name of
Titian with a halo of supernatural brightness; so much so, that whilst
painting the portrait of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, happening to
drop one of his pencils, Charles stooped and picked it up, observing,
"that a genius like Titian deserved to be waited on by emperors." Of
Reynolds we know that all the beauty and talent of the land flocked to
his painting-room, conscious of being handed down to posterity with
all the advantages that pictorial science could achieve. The grace
of Coreggio was grafted by this great master on the strong stem of
Rembrandt's colouring. In opposition to those advantages, we have to
remark that the people with whom Rembrandt came in contact were not
only of an inferior character, when measured by the standard of grace
and dignity, but the troubles of the times militated in a high degree
against that encouragement so necessary to the perfection of the art.
In spite of these inauspicious circumstances, the genius of Rembrandt
has produced works fraught with the highest principles of colour and
pictorial effect, and to his want of encouragement in the department
of mere common portraiture, we are indebted for many of the most
pictorial and splendid specimens of strong individual character in
familiar life.

Of all the works by Rembrandt, perhaps no picture has attracted so much
attention and observation as his "Night Watch," now in the Museum of
Amsterdam. As its dimensions are thirteen feet by fourteen, it secures
attention by its size; its effect, also, is striking in a high degree,
though Reynolds, in his "Tour to Holland and Flanders," says it
disappointed him, having heard so much respecting it. He remarks that
it had more of the appearance of Ferdinand Bol, from a prevalence of a
yellow, sickly colour. On the other hand, Wilkie says, "Had it been a
subject such as 'The Christ before Pilate,' which he has etched, it
would have been his finest and grandest work." Though painted in 1642,
it possesses all the force and high principles of colour to be found in
his later works. Nothing can exceed the firmness and truth of the two
figures advancing to the spectator--especially the of