all the campaigns by heart, and has painted the
Grenadier Francais under all sorts of attitudes. His pictures on such
subjects are spirited, natural, and excellent; and he is so clever
a man, that all he does is good to a certain degree. His "Judith" is
somewhat violent, perhaps. His "Rebecca" most pleasing; and not the less
so for a little pretty affectation of attitude and needless singularity
of costume. "Raphael and Michael Angelo" is as clever a picture as
can be--clever is just the word--the groups and drawing excellent, the
coloring pleasantly bright and gaudy; and the French students study it
incessantly; there are a dozen who copy it for one who copies Delacroix.
His little scraps of wood-cuts, in the now publishing "Life of
Napoleon," are perfect gems in their way, and the noble price paid for
them not a penny more than he merits.

The picture, by Court, of "The Death of Caesar," is remarkable for
effect and excellent workmanship: and the head of Brutus (who looks
like Armand Carrel) is full of energy. There are some beautiful heads
of women, and some very good color in the picture. Jacquand's "Death of
Adelaide de Comminges" is neither more nor less than beautiful. Adelaide
had, it appears, a lover, who betook himself to a convent of Trappists.
She followed him thither, disguised as a man, took the vows, and was not
discovered by him till on her death-bed. The painter has told this story
in a most pleasing and affecting manner: the picture is full of onction
and melancholy grace. The objects, too, are capitally represented; and
the tone and color very good. Decaisne's "Guardian Angel" is not so good
in color, but is equally beautiful in expression and grace. A little
child and a nurse are asleep: an angel watches the infant. You see women
look very wistfully at this sweet picture; and what triumph would a
painter have more?

We must not quit the Luxembourg without noticing the dashing
sea-pieces of Gudin, and one or two landscapes by Giroux (the plain
of Grasivaudan), and "The Prometheus" of Aligny. This is an imitation,
perhaps; as is a noble picture of "Jesus Christ and the Children," by
Flandrin: but the artists are imitating better models, at any rate; and
one begins to perceive that the odious classical dynasty is no more.
Poussin's magnificent "Polyphemus" (I only know a print of that
marvellous composition) has, perhaps, suggested the first-named picture;
and the latter has been inspired by a good ent