Whence issues out at eve Braham with front serene!'
Certain picture criticisms in the same number bear evidence of the hand afterwards well known in the galleries of paintings.
'Fine Arts.—Somerset House Exhibition.—(140) Portrait of His Majesty King William IV. in the uniform of the Grenadier Guards, by D. Wilkie. His Majesty stands in a dun fog, and wears a pair of dirty boots; his cocked-hat is in his hand, and his crown is in a corner. This large picture, in spite of the great name attached to it, seems to us a failure; Mr. Wilkie has not at all succeeded in the attempt to give an expression of intelligence to the physiognomy of our reverend sovereign.'
In the following week this verdict is modified; it is stated that the late critic has been dismissed as clearly incompetent for his office. The picture, it is acknowledged, is a good work, and it was utterly unreasonable to expect any painter could succeed in throwing an intelligent expression into the royal countenance.
The writer also extravagantly praises the portrait of an alderman, on the grounds that his address at Clapham, inscribed on a letter held in the hand of the picture, is 'painted as natural as though it had been written.'
To No. 20, Thackeray contributed a portrait of Baron Nathan Rothschild, in which the satirist does not flatter the 'pillar of change.' Some verses below the woodcut are not more complimentary to 'the first Baron Juif; by the grace of his pelf, not the King of the Jews, but the Jew of the Kings. The taste of Plutus is censured, in that he has selected as prime favourite 'a greasy-faced compound of donkey and pig.' After propitiating the great financier in this fashion, the satirist leaves his subject what he vainly wishes the Baron would leave him—'alone in his glory!'
In an appreciative review of Sarah Austin's translation of Falk's 'Characteristics of Goethe' the readers of the 'National Standard' are admitted to a glimpse of personal reminiscences: 'The fountain opposite Goethe's house is not particularly picturesque, and the people who frequent it are not remarkable for their beauty. But there are beauties disclosed to the poetic eye which the common observer will endeavour in vain to discover; and the philosopher can make sermons on running brooks, such as the fountain at Weimar, which, we confess, appeared to us a most ordinary waterspout.
'Appended to the work is a portrait of its hero, which, however, does not bear the slightest resemblance to him.'
In No. 21 occurs the first (and last) of our 'London Characters'—the sketch of an advertising medium of Chartism; a wretched, terror-stricken boardsman of the dispersed 'National Convention;' bearing the legends—'No Taxes,' 'Victory or Death,' and 'Britons, be firm!' but his placards interfere with his escape from the police by tripping up their bearer. It is worthy of note that this cut, with slight alterations, appeared later in the 'Comic Magazine' already mentioned.
In No. 22 Thackeray has produced a good croquis of Manager Bunn, who is displayed with his toupee and well-brushed, heavy-jowled mutton-cutlet whiskers, with a wig-bag seen over the shoulder of his court coat; an elaborately embroidered satin waistcoat; 'stuck to his side a shining sword;' 'all in his velvet breeches,' silk stockings and buckled shoes; just as, ten years later, the 'Punch' wags were wont to picture the 'poet Alfred.' Handsome tall candlesticks are held in either hand: these imposing dips are sparkling with the names of Schrœder and Malibran respectively: