The Sun.
London, England, 1850-12-20 00:00:00

WINTER EXHIBITION OP WATER
COLOUR'DRAWINGS.

A secc-md s:r.on we have had the gratification of
attending at Mr. J. L. Grundy's Picture Gallery,
130, Regent-street, to examine his Winter Exhibi,
bition of Water-Colour Drawinga and (as he m.bdestly
terms them) Sketches in Oil. His collection for the
present year we cannot but regard as superior in
marry respects to its predecessor. Several of the
most conspicuous among the contributors have Blown
themselves to be more than usually industrious, and
one or two of them, what is better still, more than.
ordinarily successful. Perhaps the most prontinent
of the whole number, both in regard to his s access
and his industry; is George Cattermole. His Sbaks-
perian illustrations, (2) "The Murder of King Dun-
can," and (9) " Lady Macbeth," reveal a more than
wonted pawcr even in this brilliant artist. (13)
"The Dance" is, moreover, an exquisite production,
from the hand of a master, filled with an abounding
grace and a delightful animation. In it Cattermole
has caught the glow of Titian, and somewhat even of
the classic mincer of Poussin, introducing, me mover,
as a background a delici,-as bit of lantlacape.

(17) " The Warning," (100) "Brigands in Am-
bush," and (105) " A Mill Stream," are each werked
by one or other of his peculiar excellences. In (24)
"The Gamblers' Quarrel," and in (39) " Sintram
and his Companions," we recognise a comic htxmour
equal to anything of the kind we have yet seen from
the hand of Cattermole. The beggared gee:nester
behind the door, replenishing his empty pockets by
purloining some of the spoils of his antagonists', is
capital. The story of Sintrarn we recollect baying
been already depicted by Cattermole two or three
seasons back, but, to our thinking, admirable as we
remember that previous embellishment to have been,
it is in no degree comparable, either in point of bras
liancy or of oddity, to the present— a picture glitter-
ing all over with lights inimitably introduced. The
mixture of drollery and awe in the crowd of empty
suits of armour seated round the banquet is incom-
parably good. Perhaps in some respects the happiest
effort of Cattermole, however, in this Exhibitis n, is
(85) " The Monk's Library," es it certainly is the
most pretentious. P. F. Poole has been haraty lees
industrious, as may be seen by a glance round the
gallery, embracing (5) "Boy and Ravens," (7) " The
Omen," (20) " The Gipsy Girl," (22) " Going to
the Spring." (42) " A Welsh Girl," (69) "A Gipsy
Tent," (73) " Valentine's Morn," (83) "Juliet at
her Balcony," (107) "Sterne's Alexia," (109) "Re-
flection," (158) " Cymbeline," and (166) " Some One
Expected"—all of them characterised by the best of
all the tokens of artistic genius, their grace and +truth-
fulness. Copley Fielding evider.css undimixished
capacity in (34) his sketch of "Arundel Castle—a sub-
ject rendered peculiarly interesting from the circum-
stance of its beieg rendered (61) by a greater moister,
J. M. W. Turner. The latter remarkable painting,
produced, we believe, some fifteen or sixteen years
ago by that illustrious artist, must for many reasoner: be
ranked among the number of his masterpieces, being
in his happiest style produced in the sunnier ripeness
of his genius. Upon the same screen which •is
adorned with this noble Turner, we hsve (60 sand
62) two interesting pencil sketches by Sir A. Calcitett,
and (63, 64, and 65) dressings by Maclise, from his
fanciful illustrations of the "Irish M(lodies." Among
our old favi urites again, it is impossible to pass over
unnoticed (30) the original picture of "The heart's
Misgiving," long since rendered familiar by the
popular engraving so entitled. Clarkson Stanfield
vindicates his reputation as one of the first of
our water colourists by his contributions (14)
" Dieppe," sad (18) "On the Moselle." A moat
attractive and curious item in the exhibition
is (97) a pen and ink sketch by Sir David
Wilkie, the original study of his celebrated
picture commemorative of the "Entrance of George
Iv. into Edinburgh." Schceffer's water-colour
drawing of Leonora, the famous embellishment of
Burgher's glorious ballad, is among the other trea-
sures of the collection. A drawing (94), " The Mis-
taken Hand," by J. R. Herbert, will be viewed with
peculiar interest, as an unusual effort from that dis-
tinguished Academician. Frost has three delicate
creations, (91) "Chastity," (93) "A Festival before
the Flood," end (95) "Panope"—all of them more
or less suffused with a sensuous beauty—the first even
more than the others. D. Cox, in various contribu-
tions of the customary character, sustains his fame,
and in one, (96) "The Lancaster Sands," opens up
for himself en admirable style, upon which we do not
remember before to have known him adventure. Top-
ham, with his Irish delineations (such as 99 and 101),
Pyne (as in 104 and 149), Penley (as in 111 or 125)
Hunt (as in 92 and 37), Bennett, Tayler, T. Denby, De
Wint, and I3onnington, with a variety of other con-
tributors too many to emunerate, assist in adding to
the attractions of the exhibition. Upstairs, among
the " sketches in oil," are some which will be viewed
with no small satisfaction, such, for example, as (203)
" The Doleful Ditty," -,by Cooper, (200) "Sketch
near Penshuret," by Lee, and (182) an odd little
" Sketch from Nature," by Webster. Two remark-
able curiosities, moreover, are especially noticeable in
this apartment—one (184) an early portrait of him-
self', painted by Sir Edwin Landseer, and (185) a
landscape by the late William Etty ! Various other
sketches in oil, and drawings in water colour, de-
mand from us particular mention in this very rich
and judiciously selected collection ; but from further
notice of Mr. Grundy's Gallery we are restricted by
the length to which our observations have already
extended.

RECOLLECTIONS OF THE PEOPLE.
(From the Illustrated London News.)
Translated from the French of Beranger.
By WILLIAM CHARLES KENT, Author of " Aletheia."
Long, beneath the thatch, his glory
Peasant hearts will leap to Sing.
Fifty years, and cots will ring
With no other wondrous story.
i et Then the villagers will throng
I. Round the knees of aged dame,
Saying—" Now that nights are long,
Wile the hours with tales of fame,
What though death cries peal'd his hymn,
We revere him as no other,
As no other.
Speak to us if him, mother!
Speale to us of him."
" Once, my children, in this village.
Gist by Royal crowds he pass'd;
Years since then bath Time amese'd:
Pausing 'mid those scenes of tillage,
On the threshold of my home,
There I heard him tread the ground,
There on foot I saw him come,
In grey coat and hat renoen'd.
Good day,' raid he, when near he drew,
While trembling awe I tried to smother,
Trial to smother.":
" What ! then he spoke to you, mother!
Then he spoke to you!"
"Paris summer suns did render
Radiant; while I, standing there,
Saw him with his Court repair
To Notre Dame in regal splendour.
Gladness filled the hearts of ell,
Glory bidding each rejoice:
Golden I ours! their tongues did call,
God will guard the people's choice!
Sweet the smiles he round him threw:
Heaven had bless'd him as a father.
As a father."
What brave days for you, mother! •
What brave days for you!"
" But, when stranger bands had taken
Champagne's Lair but ravaged fields,
While all else flung by their shield,
He alone remain'd unshakt n.
One evening—as it might be this—
I heard a knock, and oped the door—
Good God! 'teas be, hurl'd down from bliss,
And with him two or three—no more.
Then seated on this very chair,
He sigh'd, Why war we with each other—
With each other?' "
"What! then he sat there, mother!
What! then he sat there!"
" Wants were his, thus ill requited,
Bread and poorest wine supplied;
On the hearth his garb he dried,
While the fire to sleep invited.
Waking, when he saw my tears,
Hope at least in me,' he said;
I go to shelter France from fears,
And avenge my heroes dead.'
He went: since when great store I've set
On his glass more than all other,
Than all other."
" And you have it yet, mother!
And you have it yet!"
" 'Tie here! But while his cup I cherish'd,
He in villain bonds was bound:
He a holy Pope had crown'd,
In a desert island perish d.
Doubting long if such could be,
We cried,' He yet may re-appear,
Coming from the Southern-Sea—
Lord of foes who then shall fear!'
All known—most bitter grief did fill
These eyes, that wept as for a brother,
For a brother."
" God will bless you still mother!
God will bless you still!"

DRAINAGE OF MARTIN MERE.---.EXTRAORDINARY
CRors.—About eight months ago that extensive tract of i
land, near Ruff:,ld, known as Martin Mere, was drained.
In past years this ground has been frequently under water
for weeks or months together, and was thus incapable of
profitable cultivation. The drainage resulted in the re-
clamation of many hundred acres of land, a portion of
which this year has yielded most satisfactory crops of oats,
turnips, &c. From one plot of this reclaimed land two
tons of the largest turnips were found to consist of only 416
bulbs,:without either tops or tap roots, thus averaging lOilbs
each, a weight seldom equalled over such a quantity. The
plot altogether measured only about four statute acres, and
is a heavy crop all over. The crop of oats (of which
there were about 100 acres this last season) was also abun-
dant, and the oats are turning out of good quality.—Preston
Guardian,