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SIR JOHN SOANE'S MUSEUM.

THE Lincoln's Inn Fields Museum, established by Sir John Soane, has much to recommend it to public attention; and those who love curiosities and works of art, and have leisure as well as inclination to gratify themselves, will be amply rewarded in visiting its costly stores.

The museum consists of a considerable collection of sculpture, paintings, sarcophagi, medals, casts, vases, terracottas, bronzes, Gothic fragments, drawings, engravings, etchings, cabinets, carvings, gems, cameos, intaglios, and other curiosities. The general appearance of the several chambers of the institution will appear contracted in the eye of those who forget they are looking on what was the private residence of an individual artist, though now it has become a public institution.

I have paused a moment on the ancient Gothic corbels that adorn the front of the building. I have gazed on the porphyry-painted walls, casts, and reliefs of the entrance-hall and recess; and

am now standing beneath the south central compartment of the painted ceiling in the dining-room and library.

If the first pleasure in gazing on a work of art arises from a keen perception of its beauties, the next, in order, certainly springs from a detection of its defects. Indeed, I somewhat fear that, in our unamiable moods, this order is not unfrequently reversed, and that we see more distinctly the faulty, than the faultless parts of what is submitted to our observation.

That the very inconsiderable elevation of the ceiling sadly injures the effect of the paintings thereon, must strike every beholder. The subject of "Phoebus in his Car, preceded by Aurora, and the Morning Star led on by the Hours, with the Zephyrs sporting in his train," appears to require space. The visitor is not prepared to find himself so near the celestial group, supposed to be careering the elevated heavens. Not willingly would I run the risk of affecting to be overwise in such matters; but to me it does appear, that altitude is indispensable to a painted ceiling, and especially when the subject is an ethereal one.

The whole of the ceiling paintings-Phœbus in his Car, Pandora and the assembled gods and goddesses, the Seasons, Night with the Pleiades, Epimetheus receiving Pandora, and the Opening of the Vase-are by Henry Howard, R.A. Antique

busts, Greek and Etruscan vases, inlaid marble, mirrors, bronzes, books, and painted glass, are around me. The astronomical clock of Raingo, of Paris, is a real curiosity, and yonder model of the Corinthian order is excellent. The painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds, the Snake in the Grass, is deservedly a favourite: it cost somewhat more than five hundred guineas. The painting over the chimney-piece has a double claim on public attention, from the circumstance of its being not only a portrait of the founder of this museum, but, also, one of the last productions of Sir Joshua's pencil.

I have not passed without a pause the model of the monument erected over the tomb where the dust of Sir John Soane now reposes, in the burial ground of St. Giles-in-the-Fields, at St. Pancras. The monument was erected to the memory of Elizabeth, Sir John's wife; but since then, the donor of this princely collection of curiosities has been borne to the same burial place. A man has but a life-interest in his own freehold. If rich, he may found an establishment that may endure for ages, but he himself must withdraw. "To-morrow" is a period too distant for him to calculate upon with certainty.

"How poor, how rich; how abject, how august;
How complicate, how wonderful is man!"

The little study contains works of art, and some curious natural productions. Among the

latter, the large fungus from Sumatra arrests the eye of the visitor. In the dressing-room and recess are various curiosities: the sulphur casts from gems, the engravings of Hogarth, and the drawings by Mortimer and Canaletti, are all deserving of attention.

The models, the casts, the terracottas, and the marble fragments in the corridor, ought not to be passed by hastily. To accustom the eye to forms of grace and beauty, and to become familiar with works of excellence, is to elevate our standard in matters of taste. He who has made acquaintance with the ancient masters, will be somewhat fastidious as to the moderns. An instance of the advantage to be derived from a careful observation of what is excellent in art, I will here note down.

I have just heard a remark fall from a visitor, while conversing with the curator of the museum, in reference to a graceful branch on a cast against the wall, now before me. "Years ago," said he, "the elegance of that branch caught my attention when you favoured me with a private admission to this place; and since then, making that branch my model, I have almost inundated the country with, confessedly, one of the most elegant articles of brass furniture that ever was made with hands." The speaker had a British broad back and chest, and was evidently "well to do." The energy of his eye bespoke the fact, that what

he undertook he would execute; and I dare say, that the branch in question has not been the only specimen of excellence in this museum that he has found serviceable.

Having looked over the extended collection of wood models, and architectural drawings, as well as the other works of art in the students' room, I have entered the picture-room, and am agreeably surprised both at the extent and costliness of the paintings it contains. That a chamber, only about thirteen or fourteen feet long, something less than this in breadth, and between nineteen and twenty feet high, should, by any contrivance, be made to exhibit such a collection, cannot but call forth the admiration of the spectator. The room has cabinets on the north and west sides, and moveable planes on the south, with spaces between for pictures.

I was not aware, before I entered the place, that the museum was so rich in the works of Hogarth. Why, here are twelve of his best paintings. The Rake's Progress, consisting of eight; and the Election, of four! By the kindness of the curator, I have been lingering here a long time. A good painting is a feast to me; and a feast is never relished the less because it is spread before us unexpectedly. It is saying but little, to acknowledge that I have been abundantly gratified.

So general a thing it is, when speaking of

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