(To be concluded in our next.)

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FINE ARTS.

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THE PRESENT STATE OF DUTCH PAINTERS.

(To the Editor of the Mirror.)

SIR,—­The Dutch painters of the present day differ very materially from the English, not only in their method of manufacturing pictures, but also in their personal appearance.  The following is an extract from the private journal of a friend, who has recently been in Holland.

Yours, &c.  G.W.N.

“You would be rather surprised on first entering a painting-room here.  Your eye is struck with the appearance of a dozen slovenly attired fellows, who are variously engaged, some in beginning pictures, some in finishing, &c.  The window, which is remarkably large, and situated so as to command a good prospect from without, admits light sufficient to illuminate the room, or rather shop, which shop is at least fifteen feet long.  Casting your eye up towards the ceiling, which is equally lofty with the length of the apartment, you are somewhat at a loss to account for a vast quantity of beams, cordage, pullies, and canvasses, all appearing to have their several uses, and all kept in regular order by a man for that purpose.  The canvasses, in truth, are no other than finished pictures, which have been drawn up by the pullies to the beams, for the purposes of drying, &c.  The Dutch do not, as the English do, paint one picture on one cloth; no, they have a much more expeditious method.  A large piece of canvass is procured, on which the artist commences his labour, and, in a progressive manner, begins and finishes sometimes a dozen pictures at once.  In a kind of boudoir, an attendant is employed continually in grinding colours, &c.  For my own part, I own I was much amused with the great variety which this curious coup d’oeil presented; but I could not remain long, for the painters, even while they were at work, smoked continually.  The Dutch, it should be observed, carry on a considerable traffic in pictures with the Chinese and other eastern nations.”

* * * * *

THE NOVELIST.

No.  CVIII.

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CLOUGH NA CUDDY.

A Killarney Legend.

BY T. CROFTON CROKER, ESQ.

Above all the islands in the Lakes of Killarney, give me Innisfallen—­ “sweet Innisfallen,” as the melodious Moore calls it.  It is in truth a fairy isle, although I have no fairy story to tell you about it; and if I had, these are such unbelieving times, and people of late have grown so sceptical, that they only smile at my stories and doubt them.

However, none will doubt that a monastery once stood upon Innisfallen island, for its ruins may still be seen; neither, that within its walls dwelt certain pious and learned persons called monks.  A very pleasant set of fellows they were, I make not the smallest doubt; and I am sure of this, that they had a very pleasant spot to enjoy themselves in after dinner—­the proper time, believe me, and I am no bad judge of such matters, for the enjoyment of a fine prospect.