LESSONS FROM CLOUDS.

O Thou whose hands the bolted thunder form,
Whose wings the whirlwind, and whose breath the storm;
Tremendous God! this wond'ring bosom raise,
And warm each thought that would attempt thy praise.
O! while I mount along th' ethereal way.

To softer regions and unclouded day,

Pass the long tracks where darting lightnings glow,
Or, trembling, view the boiling deeps below:
Lead through the dubious maze, direct the whole,
Lend heavenly aid to my transported soul.-OGILVIE.

NATURE and grace mutually illustrate each other. Every object in Creation points our attention to a hidden cause, by which all the parts, great and minute, are kept in order, are directed to their proper purposes, and rendered subservient to the whole system. From thence revelation fetches many of its aptest similitudes and most sublime elucidations.

If nature simply makes a confession of divine power and wisdom, in her origin and preservation; the word of God sanctifies all her works, and turns them into preachers of righteousness.

The humble insect which crawls in the dust, and, guided by instinct, provides for her future support, teaches man the lesson of practical prudence, in all that concerns his temporal and eternal welfare. Notwithstanding his elevated rank in the creation, and the enlarged and various powers with which he is endowed, inspiration sends him for instruction even to the insects and the flowers of the field. From contemplating the economy and pursuits of animated nature, his mind is raised to survey the wonders which are scattered in rich and abundant variety above him. It is the continuation of the same lesson of wisdom; and the whole is designed to render man humble and vigilant, steady and prudent in all the concerns of human life, yet aspiring to higher scenes, and seeking an inheritance beyond the skies.

No objects are more striking, though none are more familiar, than CLOUDS. They are perpetually varying their appearances, and frequently indicate the grandest and most terrible effects in the atmosphere. Now, they are beheld with a calm and pleased eye, which follows them in their wanderings and changes, delighted at the effects produced thereby on the landscape beneath, and with the soft tint diffused over all the cerulean arch

above.

But how soon does the mind collect its powers into an awful contemplation of the blackened hemisphere; and behold with fearful apprehension the portentous elements gathering together, as it were, in battle array, and, in the language of our great epic poet,

With heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on,
then stand front to front,
Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow

To join their dark encounter in mid-air.-MILTON.

Of all the objects in the Creation, none surely supply such a grand variety of imagery for poetical description, as the clouds; whence we find the father of song often comparing the exploits and characters of his heroes to the nature and actions of the elements. But how feeble and contracted is all the beauty and elevation of poetical description, when compared to the sublimity contained in the scriptural adaptation of the saine imagery. If we admire the art with which Homer likens his heroes to a tranquil cloud, what shall be said of that description which figures to us the Omnipotent as "covering himself with light as with a garment; and as stretching out the whole expanse of the heavens for the curtain of his pavilion: who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters; who maketh the clouds his chariot; and walketh upon the wings of the

wind." Psalm civ.

Here, indeed, the idea of security and dominion is expanded to the utmost stretch of human comprehension. The Almighty is introduced not merely as

"ruling the whirlwind and guiding the storm," but as actually walking, with sober and majestic step, upon the wings of the wind.

When we behold the clouds of heaven flying rapidly before a mighty tempest, we may endeavour to catch the force of the magnificent and tremendous idea conveyed in the words of the Psalmist. And yet the page of inspiration goes far beyond even this exquisite painting; and, collecting all the variety of celestial phenomena together, embodies them into an obedient train round him, and burneth up his enemies round about. His lightabout the throne of God: "A fire goeth forth before nings enlightened the world: the earth saw and trembled. The hills melted like wax at the presence of the Lord: at the presence of the Lord of the whole earth." Psalm xcvii. In the prophetic style of exhibiting the Divine judgments upon sinful nations, the same images are generally used, but with a heightened effect, as well to mark the certainty of the event predicted, as to impress upon the mind a deep sense of the absolute power and justice of God. Thus, in the prophecy of Nahum, the Divine Majesty is delineated riding in the gloomy combustion of the elements, as figurative of his dominion over all nations, and of the equity of his proceedings in converting all natural and moral evil to the punishment of the wicked, and the happiness of the righteous. Lord hath his way in the whirlwind and in the storm, and the clouds are the dust of his feet. The mountains quake at him, and the hills melt, and the earth is burnt at his presence; yea, the world and all that dwell therein. Who fierceness of his anger? his fury is poured out like fire, and can stand before his indignation? and who can abide in the the rocks are thrown down by him." Chap. i. 3-6.

"The

This picture of a tempestuous scene displays all that is terrible in nature,-the conflict of electric clouds above pouring forth livid sheets of fire, and the loftiest mountains on earth sinking away into nothing at the mere touch of the destructive element. Thus does the language of inspiration represent to us, under the most terrific phenomena in the creation, the agency of the Almighty in the moral world, and the faithfulness of his judgments upon the sons of impiety and pride.

Scripture describes the changes which occur in the moral system of the world by images drawn from the corruptions of nature. Thus an apostle, writing against the deceivers, in his time, who despised dominion, and spake evil of dignities, compares them to "clouds without water carried about of winds; trees whose fruit withereth without fruit; twice dead, plucked up by the roots; raging waves of the sea foaming out their own shame; wandering stars to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever." (Jude, ver. 12, 13.) When such men gain an ascendancy, and their pernicious principles produce a total indifference to religious truth and virtuous practice; though all may seem quiet and serene around, the stillness is portentous, and this moral lethargy is the sure sign of those terrible convulsions which shake the mightiest empires to their foundations.

Yet, even in all this work of desolation-in the midst

of this elemental war, there will be many to perceive the hand of God directing the whole for universal good, and to listen to "his still small voice" encouraging them to abide in his mercy till the indignation be overpast. Such a state of contemplative serenity may be happily imagined from an account related by the scientific traveller, Don Ulloa, when in Peru, for the purpose of measuring a degree of the meridian on the summit of Cotopaxi. "The sky was generally obscured with thick fogs; but when these dispersed, and the clouds moved nearer the surface of the earth, they surrounded the mountains to a vast distance, representing the sea with our rock, like an island, in the centre of it. When this happened we heard the horrid noises of the tempests, which discharged themselves on Quito and the neighbouring countries. We saw the lightnings issue from the clouds, and heard the thunders roll far beneath us. And whilst the lower regions were involved in tempests of thunder and rain, we enjoyed a delightful serenity. The wind was

hushed, the sky was clear, and the enlivening rays of the sun moderated the severity of the cold.

What a sublime scene for contemplation is this to the philosophical observer; and how little for the moment do the most formidable phenomena of nature appear in the midst of the vast expanse around him! He looks down with a calm and steady eye upon the rolling tempest, lashing the surges of the ocean into mountainous heaps, and tearing up the pride of the forest by the roots. The pealing thunder, which shakes the loftiest edifices and appals the stoutest hearts, seems to him only as the distant sound of artillery; and the flashes of vivid lightning, which rend the very rocks in sunder, are but like the sportive fireworks exhibited on a night of rejoicing.

In like manner the soul, raised above the world, and seated in the bosom of religion, enjoys the tranquillity of a pure and unruffled atmosphere, while the rest of mankind are agitated by the storms of passion, and perplexed by the contentions and fall of nations. Amidst the wild uproar and the fearful expectations which prevail below, the mind that is elevated above the earth, and freed from the corrupting influence of its cares and follies, looks down with pity upon the miseries which it cannot prevent, at the same time adoring Providence for producing general good by means which superficial observers presumptuously censure as unwise and unjust.

It is the happy privilege of religion to turn distresses into blessings, and to draw from the storms and tempests of life matter of instruction and comfort. But the agitations of nature, as well as the visitations of Providence, are the necessary parts of an organized and benevolent plan. However violent and destructive such judgments may be for the time, they are calculated to remove greater disorders, and by a strong operation to carry off corruptions which, by accumulation, would produce pestilence and death. In all cases we are taught to admire that wisdom and goodness, which makes even evil correct itself, and after raging for a period with the utmost violence, become gentle and salutary to mankind. The atmosphere appears more

beautiful after a tremendous storm, and the clouds, which were then charged with fury and raged with terror, are now carried about by every gentle zephyr, and drop fatness where before they menaced destruction. Thus the economy of nature is continually preserved, and the general order and good of the system maintained, amidst the endless variety of weather and of seasons.

Nor is the regularity less in the government and preservation of the Church of God. Storms and persecutions have raged against it from the very beginning; but these visitations only served to strengthen the principles of truth, to root them deeper in the soil, and to spread forth the branches with a more luxuriant foliage.

The clouds exhibit a very remarkable phenomenon which the Almighty has adopted as a covenant sign with man never more to destroy this globe by a watery deluge. What our translation of the Bible rather ambiguously renders "I do set," should be, according to a more correct version, "I have set my bow in the cloud;" as it were-"Behold that variegated and magnificent arch touching the extremities of the horizon, and reaching to the zenith: see it erected as a trophy of my power, dominion, and justice, over a sinful world; behold it also as the covenant of my mercy in saving you from the devouring flood; and transmit to your posterity the remembrance of this stupendous event, and the assurance of my grace and loving

kindness to man.'

When, therefore, we contemplate this glorious spectacle in the concavity of heaven, let it be accompanied with a grateful and devout affection of heart to our great Creator and Redeemer, who in the midst of judg ment remembest mercy, and in all the varieties of life,

gives peace, security, and comfort, to those who put their trust in Him.

Hereby we have an assurance that every promise and prophecy contained in the sacred code, shall as certainly receive a complete accomplishment as the elements discharge their regular duties. As the earth is replenished and rendered fruitful, by the continual action of the air and distillation of the clouds, so the moral world is regulated by an unerring Providence, and all its mutations are subservient to a predisposed plan of universal good. This truth is admirably though simply expressed in the following stanzas of a very old English poet:

The raynbowe bending in the skye,
Bedeckte with sundry hewes,

Is like the seate of God on hye,`
And seems to tell these newes:
That as thereby he promised

To drowne the worlde no more,
So by the blood which Christ hath shed,
He will our health restore.

The mistie clowdes that fall sometyme,
And overcaste the skyes,
Are lyke to troubles of our tyme,
Which doe but dim our eyes:
But as such dewes are dryed up quite
When Phoebus shewes his face,
So are such fansies put to flighte
When God doth guide by grace.

GEORGE GASCOIGNE'S Good-Morrow;
Written about the year 1570.

[Abridged from BASELEY'S Glory of the Heavens.]

If the mind be neglected in childhood, and we suffer it to pass from wants to passions, without availing ourselves of the interregnum to plant in it certain powerful ideas, or first principles, that shall fix it for life, it will soon be therefore, in all respects, a necessary point of support, which hurried away by the torrent of the world. Religion is, it behoves the educator, the moralist, the legislator, and the politician, to employ, for the purpose of fixing the opinions and actions of men on more solid bases.

MEN have entered into a desire of learning and knowledge, sometimes upon a natural curiosity and inquisitive appetite, sometimes to entertain their minds with variety and delight; sometimes for ornament and reputation; and sometimes to enable them to triumph in wit and contradiction; and seldom sincerely to give a true account of their gift of reason to the benefit and use of men: as if there were sought in knowledge a couch whereon to rest a searching and restless spirit; or a terrace for a wandering and variable mind to walk up and down with a fair prospect; or a tower of state, for a proud mind to raise itself upon; or a fort, or commanding ground, for strife, or contention; or a shop, for profit or sale; and not a rich storehouse for the glory of the Creator, and the relief of man's estate. But this is that which will indeed dignify and exalt knowledge, if contemplation and action may be more nearly and straitly conjoined and united together than they have been. Howbeit, I do not mean, when I speak of use and action, that end before mentioned of the applying of knowledge to lucre and profession; for I am not ignorant how much that diverteth and interrupteth the prosecution and advancement of knowledge, like unto the golden bowl thrown up before Atalanta, which, while she goeth aside and stoopeth to pick spoken of Socrates, to call philosophy down from heaven to up, the race is hindered. Neither is my meaning, as was converse upon the earth; that is, to leave natural philosophy aside, and to apply knowledge only to manners and policy. But as both heaven and earth do conspire and con

tribute to the use and benefit of man, so the end ought to be, from both philosophies to separate and reject vain speculations, and whatsoever is empty and void, and to preserve and augment whatever is solid and fruitful.-LORD BACON.

JOHN W. PARKER, PUBLISHER, WEST STRAND, LONDON

HOLBEIN AND HIS WORKS.

II.

DURING his long residence in England Holbein painted the portrait of his patron, Henry the Eighth, several times, as also the portraits of the principal persons of the court. The king from time to time manifested the great esteem in which he held his artist, and upon the death of Queen Jane, his third wife, sent him into Flanders to draw the picture of the Duchess Dowager of Milan, widow to Francis Sforza, whom the Emperor Charles the Fifth had recommended to him for a fourth wife; but the king's defection from the See of Rome happening about this time, he preferred a Protestant princess. Cromwell, then his prime minister (for Sir Thomas More had been removed and beheaded), proposed Anne of Cleves to him; but the king was not inclined to the match, until her picture, which Holbein had also drawn, was presented to him.

An anecdote is related of Holbein illustrative of his hasty temper, and the favour in which he was held by his royal master. A nobleman of the first quality called one day to see the artist when he was taking a portrait. Holbein sent to beg his lordship to defer the honour of his visit to another day; which the nobleman taking for an affront, rudely pushed open the door and went up stairs. Holbein hearing a noise, left his chamber, and meeting the nobleman at his door, fell into a violent passion and pushed him backwards from the top of the stairs to the bottom; but immediately calling to mind VOL. XXIV.

the imprudence of his conduct, Holbein escaped from the tumult he had raised, and made the best of his way to the king. The nobleman, much hurt, though not so much as he pretended, was there soon after him, and upon stating his grievance, the king ordered Holbein to ask pardon for his offence. But this only irritated the nobleman the more, who would not be satisfied with less than his life; upon which the king sternly replied, "My lord, you have not now to do with Holbein but with me; whatever punishment you may contrive by way of revenge against him, shall assuredly be inflicted upon yourself: remember, pray my lord, that I can, whenever I please, make seven lords of seven ploughmen, but I cannot make one Holbein even of seven lords."

The works of Holbein are exceedingly numerous, and besides those that are genuine, says Bryan, a number of wretched productions are attributed to him which are totally unworthy of him. Of Holbein's historical works little is known in England, where he was chiefly employed in portraits, or in what may be called historical portraits. The two emblematical subjects of Riches and Poverty, formerly in the hall of the Company of the Steel-Yard, are extremely doubtful. Of his public works in England the most considerable is the celebrated picture in Barber-Surgeons' Hall, Cripplegate, (cupied in our frontispiece), of Henry the Eighth granting the charter to the Company of Barber-Surgeons; the character of the king is admirably represented, and all the heads are finely drawn. Another large picture by Holbein is in the hall of Bridewell, representing Edward

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The celebrated Dance of Death seems to have been designed by Holbein, although some doubts have arisen as to the fact; but these have been occasioned by confounding the set of prints of the Dance of Death engraved by Matthew Merian after a much older master than Holbein, with the wood-cuts by that master after his own designs; the originals of which are preserved in the public library at Basle.

As an engraver on wood Holbein deserves particular notice. He is said to have begun to practise that art as early as 1511, when he was thirteen years of age, and that before his departure from Switzerland he had executed a great number of wood-cuts. In these he was employed by the most celebrated publishers of his time, at Basle, Zurich, Lyons, and at Leyden. Of his productions as an engraver the most remarkable are the following:A set of wood-cuts known by the name of Death's Dance engraved from original designs by Holbein; when complete it consists of fifty-three prints, though it is seldom to be met with above forty-six. They are small upright prints surrounded with a border. The first impression of them is said to have been made in 1530; but there are later publications of them, particularly one at Lyons, entitled, Simolachri Historie, e figure della Mort, in Lyone oppresso Giov. Frelloni, M.DXLIX. They have been copied on wood by an old artist, but in a manner very inferior to the originals. There is also ascribed to Holbein a set of ninety small cuts of subjects from the Old Testament, executed in a bold masterly style, yet with great delicacy. The best impression of these was published at Lyons in 1539, by Melchior and Gaspar Treschel. There is a later impression of them with two Latin verses in praise of Holbein. This set was copied by Hans Brosamer in a poor style. Holbein also engraved a variety of vignettes, frontispieces, and ornaments for goldsmiths. He usually marked his prints with the ciphers HB or BI, signed them HANS. HOLB.

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or

Holbein painted in oil distemper, and sometimes in miniature; which last he is said to have learned in England from Lucas Cornelli, and carried it to the highest perfection. "The portraits of Holbein," says Bryan, are distinguished by a pure and simple design, peculiarly characteristic of his model; his carnations are tender and clear, and his heads, without much shadow, have a surprising relief." Another of his biographers says: "His paintings in miniature have all the force of oil colours, and are finished with the utmost delicacy. In general he painted on a green ground, but in his small pictures frequently he painted on a blue. The invention of Holbein was surprisingly fruitful, and often poetical; his execution was reinarkably quick, and his application indefatigable. His pencil was exceedingly delicate, his colouring had a wonderful degree of force, he finished his pictures with exquisite neatness, and his carnations were life itself. His genuine works are always distinguishable by the fine, round, lively imitation of flesh, visible in all his portraits, and also by the amazing delicacy of his finishing."

It is commonly reported that Holbein painted with his left hand; but in a portrait of the artist painted by himself, which was in the Arundelian collection, he is represented holding the pencil in the right hand. This is mentioned by Walpole as a proof against the tradition: but the writer of the life of Holbein subjoined to De Piles' treatise, mentions a print by Holbein still extant, which describes Holbein drawing with his left hand.

In the reign of George the Second, Queen Caroline discovered in a bureau at Kensington, an invaluable collection of Holbein's drawings of the portraits of the

most illustrious personages of the court of Henry the Eighth. "How they came there," says Walpole, in his Anecdotes of Painting, "is quite unknown. After Holbein's death they had been sold into France, from whence they were bought, and presented to Charles the First by Mons. Liancourt. Charles changed them with William Earl of Lord Pembroke gave them to the Earl of Arundel; and at Pembroke for a St. George by Raphael, now at Paris. the dispersion of that collection they might be bought by or for the king. There are eighty-nine of them, a few of which are duplicates. A great part are exceedingly fine, and in one respect preferable to his finished pictures, as they are drawn in a bold and free manner, and though they have little more than the outlines, being drawn with chalk, upon a paper stained of a flesh colour, and scarce shaded at all, there is a strength and vivacity in them equal to the most perfect portraits. The heads of Sir Thomas More, Bishop Fisher, Sir Thomas Wyat, and Broke Lord Cobham, are master-pieces."

The same writer adds that the pictures were first removed by the Queen to Richmond, but afterwards to Kensington; "but this," says his lordship, "is a very improper place for them, many of them hanging against the light, or with scarce any, and some so high as not to be discernible; especially a most graceful head of the Duchess of Suffolk."

Between the years 1792 and 1800 many of these portraits were admirably engraved in the style of the original drawings by Mr. Bartalozzi, with descriptions by Mr. John Chamberlaine, keeper of the King's drawings and medals, from whom we learn that early in the reign of George the Third these valuable drawings were taken from Kensington to the Queen's House, and by his majesty's order were taken out of the frames in which they had most injudiciously been suffered to remain for some years, and were bound up in two volumes. According to Walpole, some had been rubbed, and others traced over with a pen on the outlines by an unskilful hand. In an old inventory belonging to the family of Lumley, mention was made of such a collection in that family; with a remarkable note that it had belonged to Edward the Sixth, and that the names of the persons were written on them by Sir John Cheke. Most of these drawings have names in an old hand. Walpole these portraits, "and after spending three years in it says that Vertue the engraver had undertaken to engrave broke off, I do not know why, after having traced off in oil paper but about five and thirty. These I bought at his sale: and they are so exactly taken as to be little inferior to the originals."

Among the portraits in this collection are the distinguished names of Colet, dean of St. Paul's; Melancthon; Sir John More; Sir Thomas More; and Archbishop Wareham, the friend and patron of Erasmus. In allusion to the drawing of Chancellor More, Walpole could express the piercing genius of More, or the grace of says, "Holbein was equal to dignified character; he Anne Boleyn. Employed by More, Holbein was employed as he ought to be. This was the happy moment of his pencil; from painting the author he rose to the philosopher, single countenance in which any master has poured greater and then sunk to work for the king. I do not know a energy of expression than in the drawing of Sir Thomas thought, and an acuteness of penetration, that attest the More, at Kensington. It has a freedom, a boldness of sincerity of the resemblance. It is Sir Thomas More in the vigour of his sense, not in the sweetness of his pleasantry. Here he is the unblemished magistrate, not that amiable philosopher, whose humility neither power nor piety could elate, and whose mirth even martyrdom could not spoil. Here he is rather that single cruel judge, whom one knows not how to hate, and who in the vigour of abilities, of knowledge, and good humour, persecuted others in defence of superstitions that he himself had exposed; and who, capathought that God was to be served by promoting an imposble of disdaining life at the price of his sincerity, yet ture; who triumphed over Henry and death, and sunk to be the accomplice, at least the dupe, of the holy maid of Kent."

Mr. Lodge has also copied this portrait in his collection of portraits, and remarks upon its peculiar charac