The Sun. — 1862-04-04 (London, England)

VEINICE AND TITIAN.  And so lam actually in Venice I Well ; to-day I have seen the finest pictures in the world, and have at last personally made the acquaintance of a very admirable man, whom hitherto I only knew by name—l allude to a certain Signor Giorgione, an inimitable artist—and also to Porde none, who paints the most noble portraits, both of himself and many of his simple scholars, in such a devout, faithful, and pious spirit, that you seem to converse with him, and to feel an affection for him. Who would not have been confused by all this ? But if lam to speak of Titian, I must do so in a more reverent mood. Till now, I never knew that he was the felicitous artist I have this day seen him to be. That he thoroughly enjoyed life, in all its beauty and fulness, the picture in Paris proves •, but he has fathomed the depths of human sorrow, as well as the joys of heaven. His glorious "Entombment," and also the "Assumption," fully evince this. How Mary floats on the cloud, while a waving movement seems to pervade the whole picture ; how you see at a glance her very breathing, her awe, and piety, and in short a thousand feelings—all words seem poor and commonplace in comparison! The three angels, too, on the right of the picture, are of the highest order of beauty—pure, serene loveliness, so unconscious, so bright, and so seraphic. But no more of this, or I must perforce become poetical, or indeed am'so already, and this does not at all suit me; but I shall certainly see it every day. I must, however, say a few words about the " Entombment," as you have the engraving. Look at it, and think of me. This picture represents the conclusion of a groat tragedy : so still, so grand, and so acutely painful. Magdalene is supporting Mary, fearing that she will die of anguish ; she endeavours to lead her away, but looks round hers elf once more, evidently wishing to imprint this spectacle indelibly on her heart, thinking that it is for the last time ; it surpasses everything ; and then the sorrowtng John, who sympathises and suffers with llary, ani Joseph, who absorbed in his piety, and occupied with the tomb, direots and conducts the whole ; and Christ himself, lying there so tranquil, having endured to the end : then the blaze of brilliant colour, and the gloomy mottled sky, It is a' composition that speaks to my heart and fills me with enthusiasm, and will never leave my memory. I believe few things I have yet to see in Italy will affect rec., so deeply; but you know that I am devoid of all prejudices, and I give you a fresh proof of this by telling you that the Martyrdom of St. Peter, from which I expected the most: pleased me the least of the three; it did not strike me as being a complete whole; the landscape, which is very fine, seemed to me to predominate too much. Then I was dissatisfied with the disposition in the picture of two victims and only one murderer; (for the small figure in the distant background does not remedy this). I could not bring myself to consider it a martyrdom. But probably I am in error, and I intend to stud it more carefully waston t hed iosr eg i:nb ,° d andb y somemor r oown—e strummingm y contemplationon of i t ,sacrilegiously besides, o istewntreo susuchchmpisicetrutles opera these sacredfinaeo. formaßut mattersthweisraforeed to not;l he are. I require no organist. I play the organ in my thoughts for myself, and feel as little irritated by such trash, as I should bo by an ignorant rabble. Titian, however, was a man well adapted to improve others ; so I shall try to profit by him, and to rejoice that lam in Italy. At this moment the gondoliers are shouting to each other, and the lights are reflected in the depths of the waters; ono is playing a guitar, and singing to it. It is a charming night. ttrovell 1 and think of me in every happy hour, as I do of you. From Venice he proceeded to Florence, and thence after a brief stay, to Rome. With this city he was delighted, but gives this opinion of