The Sun.
London, England, 1834-03-06 00:00:00

ARRIVALS AT CHELTENHAM.

Right Hon. Lord Seagrave, Right Hon. Countess of Ath.
lone, Lady Fraser, Lady Cockerell, Lady Cromie, Sir W. and
Lady Hicks, Colonel and Mrs. Hopkinson, Colonel P. Stewart,
Colonel Bayly, Major Montgomerie, Major Jones, Major
Bragge, Capt. W. Baker, Capt. Yeoman, Capt. W. H. Penny,
Capt. Battersby, Capt. Tinling, Rev. P. Taylor, Rev. T.
Winniatt, Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins, Mr. and Mrs. Huddlestone,
Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy, Mr. and Mrs.
G. Evered, Mr. and Mrs. Grange, Mr. and Mrs. Somers, Mr. I.
I. Ansell, Mr. W. Wood, Mr. Bromley, Mr. Hare, Mr. Barry,
Mr. Douglas, Mr. Agge, Mr. Wilkes, Mr. Swallow, Mr. Rock-
wood, Mr. Wylde, Mr. Bolton, Mr. Butler, Mr. Street, Mr.
Stuart, Mr. Domville, Mr. Spurrell, Mr. Bristowe, Mr. Barnard,
Mr. Maurice, Mr. Clayfield, Mr. Mant, Mr. Holford, Mr.
Coome, Mr. Cowrie, Mr. Harnage, Mr. Beevir, Mr. Hopner,
Mr. Watson, Mr. Daly, Mrs. Stuart, Mrs. Whinyates, Mrs.
Anderson, Mrs. Crickitt, Miss Hampton, Misses Huddlestone,
&c. &c.

FINE ARTS.

THE PEDLAR.

In telling a 'homely, domestic story—in bring.
ing out all its most naive points, and rigidly
excluding all that is irrelevant, and that does not
immediately 'bear upon, and tend to elucidate,
the subject, 'Wilkie is unequalled among modern
artists, and scarcely surpassed by even the best
masters of the Dutch and Flemish schools. All
his paintings., his Scotch ones particularly, are
marked by exquisite truth and propriety of cha-
racter. They betray evidences of patient thought,
unflagging assiduity, and first-rate powers of de-
sign. The most hypercritical eye can detect
nothing slovenly, nothing harsh, nothing false in
taste or sentiment in them. They are carefully
finished in detail, and possess an harmonious
uniformity as a whole. Though dwelling, for
the most part, on the rudest and homeliest
subjects, yet they are as free from any-
thing like vulgarity, as the bald, racy, sylvan
descriptions of old Cobbett. They have all
the vigour and literalness of Morland, with-
out his breadth and coarseness. All the
freshness and minuteness of observation of
Gainsborough, without his occasional exagge-
rations, and frequent love of sacrificing the
details of a picture to one favourite figure or
group in a foreground. The ground-work of
Wilkie's genius is common sense. On this he
erects his superstructure of mingled humour and
fancy, which will wear well, for it is the palace
which was built upon the rock. Many of our
more showy, meritrecious artists build theirs on
the sand, the consequence of which is, that the
very first wave of popular caprice sweeps them
away.

There is nothing sickly or affected in the
quality of Wilkie's intellect. It is as healthy
and vigorous as that of Shakspeare and Scott.
We can understand and sympathize with his
creations, for they are those of the world a bout
us. Nevertheless, his paintings are not to be
coldly and hurriedly glanced at, but to be read
and studied, for they teem with idea and cha-
racter. Every inch of canvass is made
the most of; every minute part is strictly
subordinate to, and in keeping with, the whole.
Look, for instance, at the Pedlar. The story
may be read at a glance—such is the truth and
distinctness of Wilkie's conceptions—but the
details require to be studied, in order to be
adequately ' appreciated. The Pedlar has just
entered a labourer's cottage, and is displaying
his choicest wares to its inmates, while an old
dame with keen eyes peering above her spec-
tacles, is looking him full in the face, and expos-
tulating, in energetic terms, on the preposterous
price he demands for some flowered muslin,
which one of her daughters has knelt down to
investigate more closely. They are well matched,
the Pedlar and the old woman. His face is symp-
tomatic of a hard bargain ; hers, of a perfect con-
sciousness that such is the fact. The one would fain
do, the other is bent on not being done. Nothing
can be more characteristic than the Pedlar's
figure. He is lean and lank, as if every atom of
flesh had been worn off his bones by the prac-
tice of constant walking. His face is a piquant
compound of shrewdness and good humour, of
smiling obsequiousness and downright tenacity
of purpose. He will not bate a penny of his
price, not he ! He is a poor man with a large
family, and these are hard times. Taking all this
quite as a matter of course, the old lady sticks
close to her text ; she will give " so much," and
not one farthing more. If he cannot afford
this, he can pack up his things and be gone.
But no, there sits the Pedlar, diligently be-
thinking himself how, with a due regard to the
decencies of character, he may abjure his
resolution, and come down to the old woman's
terms. The doubtful look and outstretched ap-
pealing hands (which in themselves denote a
world of argument) of the perplexed itinerant,
are in the shrewdest and truest style of humour.
The underplot--if we may use such a term—or
episodical portion of the story, is made up of
the " gude man" and his wife, the former of
whom, in reply to the latter's request to be al-
lowed to become a purchaser as well as the
grandmother, is evidently " pooh poohing"
away in reply to her supplication, and adding—
or we know nothing of physiognomy—" Ah,
you women are so fond of finery !" Were he
not smoking his pipe, he would get into a pas-
sion, but tobacco has made him philosophical,
so, after a few more gentle grumblings, his
wife will gain the day, as wives generally do.
The grouping of this picture possesses allWil-
kie's simplicity and quiet nature, and its minutia
—such as the Pedlar's hat hung on the back of
his chair—the little hit of looking-glass fixed to
a peg in the wall—the tall wooden clock—the
one sporting engraving, in a cheap black frame
—the spinning-wheel, and pendant flitch of
bacon in .the back ground—all these minor, but
characteristic accessories, are like so much ce-
ment to bind the whole firmly and appropriately
together. The engraving is executed by Stewart,
in a style that cannot fail to please Wilkie.