"Take, for instance, the Sculpture-room of the Royal Academy, filled, as it is at present, with most valuable works in marble, crowded in a space which allows scarcely more than two spectators to pass abreast between the different articles submitted to inspection. With what feelings would Sir Francis Chantrey, Sir Richard Westmacott, and Mr. Bailey learn that productions on which they had been employed for years, for which some thousands of pounds were to be paid, and for the perfect preservation of which they were responsible to the proprietors, had been thrown open to the promiscuous access of the mob; that a committee of coalheavers an assemblage of connoisseurs from Field-lane and St. Giles's-had been invited by the Academy to polish their manners, refine their feelings, and cultivate their taste at the expense of the unhappy artists, who must submit to whatever mischief or mutilation might be inflicted on their works while exposed to so rough an ordeal of criticism?" * * "The rush of a crowd into the Miniature apartment would be still more likely to produce damage and depredation. The productions exhibited there are for the most part small and valuable; they are not very effectually secured on the walls to which they are attached, and are all in frames furnished with expensive glasses, liable to be broken on the slightest pressure. No vigilance of police or Academic superintendence could guard the property exposed to plunder in such circumstances, or baffle the furtive ingenuity with which such small objects would be wrenched from their places, pocketed, and carried off in the crowd. Even as it is, we find it impossible to prevent theft. Scarcely a year passes in which some miniature is not stolen ; and the Academy has been so often called on to make good the loss, as to render necessary a public notice, that though the Institution would take all possible care of the works intrusted to their charge, they could not be responsible for damage or loss from accident, fire, or any other cause. In his Letter to Mr. Hume, Sir M. A. Shee is pointed and severe-though not more severe than just. "I believe, Sir, notwithstanding the dilletante drilling to which you have so patiently submitted, in order to fit yourself for the service in which you have engaged, you have not, as yet, obtained any particular distinction for your knowledge of the Fine Arts. Matters of taste do not appear to be in your department. Your sensibilities have never been excited to the manifestation of any interest in their behalf. Your invectives against the Academy, therefore, are as rash and intemperate as they are pointless and unprovoked. They betray a spirit of rancour and virulence more characteristic of private pique and personal enmity, than of that measured animadversion and regulated reproof which a liberal reformer would employ even in the most ardent pursuit of public objects. But though your darts have been poisoned with the skill of a Cherokee, and your aim has been deadly, they have failed to inflict a wound, not from want of venom in the instruments, but of vigour in the arm by which they have been thrown." advocate for the public appropriation of priAlluding to the zeal of the honourable vate property, Sir M. A. Shee observes:— "You do not hesitate to assert that a portion of the expense incurred for the support of the Academy, is supplied from the Public purse. You are reported, Sir, to be as peculiarly conversant in the lore that relates to the outlay of the National funds, as you are vigilant in preventing their misappropriation. Can you`adduce in support of your assertion, any grant of the public money to the Royal Academy? Can you prove that a single shilling has been contenance of that Institution, since its first estabtributed by the Government towards the mainlishment? If you cannot do this, Sir, you must allow me to express my wonder, by what what peculiar impulse of inaccuracy, you have extraordinary process of mis-conception,―by been led publicly to make an assertion, hazarded in the face of the explicit statement made to you by me, in the conversation which took place between us on the subject, the minutes of which now lie before me,—an assertion, also, in the face of the still more explicit statement contained in my letter to Lord John Russell, of which you were furnished with a copy, and which I here quote :— "The Royal Academy, although instituted 'for the promotion of great National objects, ' and powerfully sustaining those objects, is not a National Establishment. Though rendering important public services, it is not, in any respect, supported or assisted, nor has it ever 'been supported or assisted, from any public 'fund.' وو و * * * * "It would appear, Sir, that you have no objection to the use of a little intimidation when it can be employed against Deans and Chapters. "But reinforced by the two powerful engines with which you now take the field, Don Quixote's attack upon the windmill is not to be compared to the vigour of your advance against Cathedrals and Academies. You manoeuvre your force too, with the judgment of a skilful engineer. You bring to bear upon each of your opponents the battery most likely to be effective, and you terrify the priests, while you shume the painters. 66 I do not presume, Sir, to offer a conjecture as to the effect which your fulminations may produce upon the right reverend bench, or to judge whether enough of the Church militant spirit remains to enable them to sustain with fortitude your alarming menace. But, for the Royal Academy, 'There are no terrors, Cassius, in thy looks.' "I shrink not, Sir, from the encounter, even though you come forward as the great Goliah of the fray. As to your allies of the pencil and the pen, I shall only say, sans façon— 'Let baffled quacks in rabid rage' abuse My father, mother, body, soul, and muse!' "Let them swear by all the gods that I am a bad painter, a worse poet, and, to crown all, an academic monopolist! Whatever my claims may be, the censure of such assailants I defy. Their praise, indeed, might be fatal; for, Of all mad creatures, if the learn'd are right, It is the slaver kills, and not the bite.'-Pope. "I advocate, Sir, no private or personal object. Selfish interests have never prompted my pen; my pencil has never courted the dispensers of patronage or fame, nor have I ever sought to gain by intrigue what talent could not procure for me. On personal grounds I do not believe I have an enemy ;-on such grounds I should grieve to deserve one. But if an unflinching zeal in the cause of the Arts,-if an honest ardour in defence of an Institution, whose services entitle it to the respect and gratitude of the country, should expose me to the shafts of professional malevolence, the rancour of party, or even the frown of authority, I am ready to abide the consequences and to pay the penalty." Mr. Edwards, though apparently an admirer of Mr. Hume, is an assailant of a different, and of a far more honourable character. Many of his notions, however, we deem to be erroneous. Repudiating the charge of corruption, that, says he, "of which public opinion really does accuse the Academy, is unprogressiveness and inadequacy to the wants of the time." In refutation of this opinion, let the reader take the trouble of referring to the early catalogues of the institution, and of comparing them with those of recent date, and he will then be enabled to judge whether the arts of painting have or have not advanced by means of the Academy. Afterwards, indeed, Mr. Edwards admits, "that, since the foundation of the Royal Academy, the circumstances of the Arts in this country have wholly changed.” If so, from what cause has the change arisen, but from the united efforts alone of the members of the Acade my, and from their liberal and even generous impartiality, evinced towards their professional brethren, not belonging to the institution? "Had the Royal Academy," observes Mr. Edwards, met the demand upon it by frankly originating a full inquiry into its constitution and affairs, with the express view of making it a really National Institution, and of obtaining for it such powers and such means as should render it fully adequate to its objects, it would then have met with firm and zealous friends in many of those who, not unreasonably, have been made suspicious of it by its apparent unwillingness to put up with a continued uncertain and irresponsible character." Now. though we do not conceive that the Academy was, in any respect, bound to respond to any demand of the nature alluded to by Mr. Edwards, it DID respond: it did meet the inquiry, in the fullest extent, before a Committee of the House of Commons. It was weighed in the balance, and was not found wanting. Mr. Edwards is an advocate for what he considers-we can hardly perceive how or why-a grand reform. By way of summary, he contends, that the most desirable reform in the Royal Academy-the reform which would most extend and strengthen its usefulness-consists desire. We believe, too, that, notwithstanding the improved state of the arts, it would be extremely difficult materially to increase the number of Academicians in a manner satisfactory to the Academy and to the public. It is not improbable that there may be, at the present time, some two or three painters superior in talent to some two or three of the present Academicians; but this admission does not nullify the first objection, that an increase of the number of inembers would diminish the value of the honour sought; nor can it be received as a proof, that, although there may at this time be a larger number of individuals than forty, eligible for the academic chair, the supply, in point of merit in all respects, could be constantly kept up. Why the class of Associates should be abolished, we cannot at all comprehend. Admission into that class must be received as evidence of the eligibility of the individuals to become candidates, on vacancy, for the higher honour of Academician. The painter is, in a certain sense of the word, a creator: on the other hand, the engraver originates nothing he is only a copyist. The engravers, however, are likely to get over their difficulty by obtaining a chartered corporation of their own. To enter into a minute examination of all Mr. Edwards's fancies would lead us to the production of a pamplet equal at least in extent to the one with which he has favoured us. They are thus summarily disposed of by our contemporary before alluded to: 6 "His principal project for removing complaints and renovating its [the Academy's] constitution, is to place the management of the 'Exhibition' in the hands of an elective' body, chosen by the whole of the exhibitors, of a certain standing. How many are to compose the body he does not inform us; whether the members of the Academy, being 'exhibitors,' are eligible to be included in it; neither does he enlighten us as to what he means by a certain standing;'-whether such men as we see, for the first time this year, climbing suddenly to cluded from it; how the election is to take the topmost branch of the tree, are to be explace; whether the elected are to have any acknowledged head to guide them; and if not, who is to arbitrate in case of squabbles, and decide in the event of differences irreconcileable; whether most votes are to carry it; and if so, whether the votes are to be taken when all the hangers are present, or when only one hanger is by; whether they are to be responsible or irresponsible, and if the former, to whom; whether they are to be known or unknown to the public; whether they are, or are not, to be paid for some three weeks of incessant, irksome, and thankless labour; whether each person elected is to be compelled to act will he nill he;' and when all is done, which of the hangers an ill-used artist is to call to account for undertaking a task he was not forced to undertake as a part of his duty. In short, a more visionary scheme was never, we think, proposed; it is so obviously absurd that we marvel a gentleman of taste and ability could seriously propose it and consider his proposition as at once just, practicable, and perfectly safe, as regards all existing interests.""" So much for Academic Reform! Ꮎ JUNE, BEAUTIFUL JUN E. BY HENRY BRANDRETH. MORNING is breaking, and beautiful June soon Will the birthday of June, bright and beautiful June. Pride of the maidens, a rosy-cheek'd boy And his the green forest, the sunshine, the Their reed-pipes at sunset the shepherds attune, Behold him again in his manhood's bold pride, THE ENGLISH IN ALGIERS.* MORALLY and politically, and almost geo-ley, held the appointment of His Britannic 66 Majesty's Agent, and Consul General at Algiers ;" and that, to the said extracts," the said ostensible author has "added certain Reminiscences or Souvenirs" of her own! Well! if we cannot obtain what we wish, or had been induced to expect, we must make the best of what we can get. First, however, let us premise, that the lady's graphically, the position of Algiers has been greatly altered within the last quarter of a century. The suppression of piracy, and of the consequent slavery of European captives, by the determined energy of the British government, through Admiral Lord Exmouth, some years ago, effected material changes in the policy of the Algerine government, and in the revenue of the state; and, more re-diary ought to have been extensively pruned, cently, the rapacious seizure and occupation of the country, by the French, has produced a moral revolution amongst the people, the extent or termination of which it is not yet possible to foresee. Superadded to all this, the rapid communication between Europe and Africa, by means of steam, has excited —and not only excited, but been the means of gratifying—a new interest in whatever may appertain to the ancient world. Within these few years, Sir Grenville Temple, and other able and intelligent travellers, have thrown much light upon the history, ancient and modern, natural and political, of that portion of the African continent in which Carthage formerly flourished, and in which the Moors and Turks have since established a government of the most despotic and tyrannical nature. To those writers, antiquaries and the literati in general have been greatly indebted. We were led to expect, that the book, entitled Six Years' Residence in Algiers," with which Mrs. Broughton has just favoured the public, was intended farther to enlighten us upon the history of that country, or upon its existing state. In this expectation, it was our fate to be grievously disappointed. After a superlatively ridiculous dedication, we learn, by a few prefatory paragraphs, that the volume before us has "no pretensions to the character of a regular and connected narrative" of any kind; that it consists simply of extracts from a diary of occurrences" kept by the ostensible author's mother, "during a residence of six years in Algiers, from the year 1806 to 1812" (only twenty-seven years ago!) while her "late father, Henry Stanyford Blanck * Six Years Residence in Algiers. By Mrs. Broughton. 1 Vol., post 8vo. Saunders and Otley. 1839. and much condensed; and that the entire work should have been subjected to a rigid correction and revisal, previously to its introduction to public notice. Instead of a clumsy volume of more than 450 pages, we might, by these means, have been presented with one of diminished bulk, and more pleasant to read. Of what possible import can it be for the public to be informed, that "Mr. Blanckley went to town this morning through actual torrents of rain "—that " Mr. B. and I both slept in town"—that “I accompanied my family to town, from whence we embarked in a boat, under the customary salutes of the batteries, to celebrate the anniversary of our beloved King's birth, on board the Niger"-that "Mr. B. went to town through violent rain, and returned much chagrined at the Dey having excused himself, under some plea, from granting him an audience"-or that "our Italian cook, who has been in Mr. B's service nineteen years, has to-day given us warning to leave us?" Surely such twaddle as this might, without any distressing loss to the general reader, have been confined to the Blanckley family archives. It appears that Mr., Mrs., and Miss Blanckley were peculiarly unfortunate in all their pet animals. Par consequence, we have the history of a beautiful barbary horse, intended for a present to the Prince of Wales, but who, to escape the horrors of transportation from his native land, committed suicide by hanging himself, and then, instead of having his fine skin preserved, had it tanned; of beautiful tame pet lamb," a Poor Billy" (no sly allusion, we hope, to Lord Melbourne), who, "one morning," was "no where to be found, nor his fate to be traced," until his skeleton was discovered, and it was ascertained that he had become the of a pack of jackalls; of a royal eagle, who was 66 66 prey meant for a present to the Earl of Liverpool, but who, through a mistake of the unlucky Italian cook, was killed, drawn, and trussed, with a view of being served up for dinner; of a poor monkey, who, after playing with the blood of a dog supposed to have been mad, was seized with hydrophobia; and of a tame hare, called Puss, who, in company with a brown-and-white spaniel, named Rich, used to amuse himself by hunting the cats, who at length turned upon their indefatigable enemy, and revenged themselves by devouring him. What a set of family disasters! Here, however, is a redeeming anecdote of Babastro, a notorious pirate, related in illustration of one of Mr. Blanckley's "most favourite dogmas, viz., that great benefit had accrued to mankind by the establishment and continuation of Freemasonry." "After the capture of an English prize by this so oft-named corsair, and whilst his crew were following their usual honourable practice of stripping our unfortunate countrymen, (to which they induced them to submit by holding over them unsheathed knives,) that they, the gallant captors, might thus exactly ascertain the precise amount of their booty; it so occurred, that the master of one of the luckless English vessels, whose name escapes my recollection, whilst undergoing this unceremonious disrobing, made use of one of those mystic gestures, invisible to all but the initiated brethren of the trowel and apron. Whatever that sign was, it passed not unnoticed, for instantly was his hand clasped in that of Babastro, and an immediate order was given by him to his satellites to release the English captain from their grasp; and he desired, that whatever property was ascertained to belong exclusively to him, should by all be held sacred, and restored to him. Nor were these professions a mere façon de parler, for most strictly were they fulfilled, as I perfectly remember hearing the English captain All I recollect besides, of this chieftain of the privateers which so long infested the coast of Algiers, is, that his master, Napoleon, judged him worthy of being named a member of the Legion of Honour, and that its cross accordingly dangled at his boutonnière." relate to us. We are not particularly sorry to get away from Algiers, that we may be enabled to offer a historic illustration of the conduct of Lord Nelson, a short time before the battle of Trafalgar. Mr. Blanckley and his family were at Minorca, from the Spanish governor of which they had experienced the most brutal and cruel treatment. "All this was done previous to any declaration that hostilities had taken place between Great Britain and Spain. Were I to recount all the breeches of the law of nations committed by this Governor Ramierez towards my father, I should never leave off. They finally ended by his compelling us all to embark on board a would not permit us to await the frigate which wretched boat, at the risk of our lives, for he we were hourly expecting. 6 "In this trying situation, my father, to ensure some degree of respect to his diplomatic character, caused the flags of different nations to be displayed on the mast of the frail bark; and with such a gala appearance, we hove in sight of Nelson and his fleet. The singular appearance of our little vessel, much puzzled our gallant countrymen, and when the immortal hero was informed of the strange sail, Good God, (was his exclamation,) it must be Mr. Blanckley, and the Sea Horse has missed him. Send a boat on board, and with my compliments, beg of him to come to me immediately.' As soon as my father entered his cabin, he met him with extended hand. How, my dear Sir, could you in such weather trust yourself in such a nutshell? Where is your family?' When my father replied that we were all on board, he lifted up his hand and eyes in astonishment, and added, I give you my word, I sent you the very first frigate I had under my command. The Sea Horse had only returned to the fleet the very day I dispatched her to you. I am sadly crippled for want of small craft;'—and then beating up, with his one noble hand, the cushions of the sofa, he made my father sit beside him, adding, But I will not say one word more, until you tell me what I shall send Mrs. Blanckley for her supper." My father assured him that she was amply provided; and enumerated all the live stock we had on board, and among other things, a pair of English coach-horses, which, to our no trifling inconvenience, he had embarked, and stowed on board ;-for if I could not have managed to bring them, I would rather have cut their throats, than that a Spanish dragoon should mount them,' was my father's Lord Nelson laughed concluding sentence. heartily at the enumeration of all my father's retinue, exclaiming, A perfect Noah's ark, my dear Sir !-A perfect Noah's ark!' 66 , Lord Nelson's venerable parent was a very dear friend of my father's. Hence a more than ordinary interest was felt by his son in all that related to my father and his family; and although this was their first meeting, they had long corresponded on terms of intimacy. An end was put to all conversation of a private nature, by my father telling his Lordship that he believed he could give him news of the French fleet. The countenance of the hero lighted up, and starting suddenly up, he instantly rung the little hand-bell on his table,- Let a council of war be called immediately.' "I cannot, in my lamented ignorance, repeat all the details my father gave of that meeting of heroes ;-but I well remember, whatever was the communication he imparted, that he could not persuade Nelson of its authenticity; for his repeated reply was, 'You have been deceived, |