Was granted him. He could not well request

His friends sole comfort. One night, limbs quite tired, Weary and ill he went to bed forlorn ;

And our friend saw him not the morrow morn.

XXVI.

And many days he lay, still growing worse;
His anxious mother tended watchfully
Her suffering son: a kinder better nurse

He could not have, and often did she try
To soothe him; offered all she had; her purse
Rich as it was could not his want supply:
He said his mother could not grant the boon
With which he knew he should recover soon.

XXVII.

"I have unbounded wealth," the mother cried, "And all is yours: and will it not procure That which you so desire?"- "No," replied

The sickening youth. "The Indies could not cure My malady; my only hope is fled;

And pain alas! to death I must endure,

Unless Fed'rigo's Falcon I obtain,—

To seek relief in aught beside were vain."

XXVIII.

These words struck grief into the lady's heart,
She felt it ill beseemed her former pride
To act the suppliant's soul-subduing part

To one who erst had sought her for his bride-
But more regarding her poor sufferer's smart,
Opposing feelings she resolved to hide,
For vain all other efforts seemed to be
T'avert her Adriano's destiny.

XXIX.

Thus thought Gi'anna, and the powerful love
A mother only knows at length o'ercame

Her pride, for true affection is above

That empty feeling, or the sense of shame : Therefore at once her full intent to prove,

Next morning with her friend, a neighb'ring dame, In hope her Adriano to content,

To Federigo's humble cottage went.

XXX.

When Federigo heard Gi'anna's name

Announced, what deep emotion filled his heart! He never heard it spoken but the flame

Of latent love burst forth with double smart : How felt he when the ne'er forgotten dame

Stood at his cottage door? none can impart

The thoughts which thronged that moment, nor did he, But welcomed her with silent courtesy.

XXXI.

Their greeting over, Giovanna said,

"Sir, for your numerous favours in times past 'Twere only grateful some amends were made; Conscious of this I have resolved at last To pay those thanks myself: since grief has preyed Upon my heart, what if remorse I taste? But now be ancient griefs forgot, we come As friends to cheer your solitary home."

XXXII.

"Madam," he answered, "I remember not That I was ever wronged at thy fair hands, If ever I was worthy aught, 'twas what

I owe to love of thee:-still thy commands
Are sacred, but I fear that thou hast sought

A host too poor for what thy worth demands;
Pray you walk in, this humble woman here
Will do your bidding whilst I seek the cheer."

XXXIII.

Away he went, poor man! almost beside

Himself for joy and wonder what to do, To welcome his fair guests and to provide An entertainment to their kindness due: Ne'er was his poverty so sorely tried,

His shattered fortune sorely did he rue, Nought could he find to set his table forth, For neither meat nor money was he worth.

XXXIV.

Long he kept up his search without success,

Prying in every corner anxiously,

Haunted by fear lest-great was his distress!—

His welcome guests in want of food should be;

Turning him round, upon the accustomed perch, His Falcon dear sitting he did espy,

'Twas fat! and deeming it would serve his stead He took it down and twisted off its head;

XXXV.

And gave it to the maid to pluck and roast,
Bidding her quick as possible prepare
The dinner for his friends; deeming no cost
Too great to entertain a guest so rare-
And much rejoicing that he now could boast
Such company, he joined the ladies fair,
Telling them such poor feast as he could get
Waited their ladyships to honour it.

XXXVI.

And so he led them in, and standing by,

Paid humble service to his much-loved guest; And when the cloth was moved, immediately Gi'anna thus her faithful host addressed,"Sir, I well know that very cruelty

My conduct must have seemed to you, at best, And great presumption surely 'twill appear To ask the favour you shall shortly hear.

XXXVII.

But did you, Sir, a mother's feelings know,
You would forgive it; love for my dear son,
My only joy, who, Heaven protect him! low
Upon a bed of sickness is cast down,
Moves me, a sorrowing suppliant, to throw
Myself upon your mercy; only one,

One single thing on earth can health restore;
To gain your favourite hawk his heart is sore.

XXXVIII.

This hearing, Federigo wept,-the dame
Thinking he sorrowed his fair bird to lose,
Feared she had lost the gift for which she came :
Till Federigo answered, "Pray excuse
"This ill-timed grief, but ever since the flame

Of holy love for thee thou didst refuse,
My lot with strange misfortune has been curst,
But this, my present grief, of all is worst:

XXXIX.

My poverty, which could not e'en provide

A meal for thee, and for thy worthy friend, Turned, as a last resource, (oh! ill betide

The unlucky hour that saw the sweet bird's end!) Upon my Falcon :-the dear Tercel died

E'en by these hands, that your poor host might send

A dinner worthy of his beauteous guest

Why had you not at first told your request?"

XL.

And then he shewed to them the feet and head,
And some plucked feathers to avouch the truth
Of the sad tidings he before them laid :

Their happy day brought doleful eve, in sooth,
And Giovanna to her dear son sped

Without the promised gift; and the poor youth,
Whether from grief, disease, or aught beside,
I cannot tell, a few days after died.

XLI.

When the poor childless mother in her grief
Had long indulged, her brothers knowing well
How rich she was, advised to find relief

In marriage; whereupon they both would tell
A hundred names, all, in the world's belief,

Good men, and rich; or they would warmly dwell Upon her wealth and beauty, which might choose Out of them all, for none could her refuse.

XLII.

But Giovanna answering them, said,
"Brothers, so let it be as you desire,
I will a poor, but not a rich man wed;
For Federigo does not ought require
To make him welcome to my board and bed."
She who in Falcon's death beheld the fire
That love had placed within a noble breast
Burn unextinguished; made Fed'rigo blest.

ART. IV. ROYAL ACADEMY EXHIBITION OF PAINTINGS,

1842.

It is said that Appelles, concealed by a curtain, placed himself to listen to the observations and criticisms made on the pictures he exhibited. What different judgments he must have heard pronounced! In our days, if the artists do not conceal themselves behind curtains to hear the often-contradictory opinions expressed on the works they exhibit, they have the power of being informed on these decisions, by means of periodicals and newspapers. We shall here give our opinion sine ira et studio, solely an account of the impressions we have received.

As naming each picture separately is a labour equally tiresome to us and to the reader, and when accomplished, the result is more like an auctioneer's catalogue than an article (besides that our periodical is issued after others have written much in detail on the subject), we propose to make some remarks on the principal pictures of each class in the exhibition, and on the inspiration of art which manifests itself in the ensemble.

Is progress observed in art? If the answer be in the affirmative, what is the degree of progress? This is the problem to be solved. In indicating the principal pictures of each class, which appear to us to merit observation as leaders, we believe we shall assist the reader to answer these questions himself. Progress should be the object of every general and solemn exhibition of works of the fine arts, and such is that of the Royal Academy.

Among six hundred pictures we find only about sixty that can be called pictures of history and high composition. We candidly confess we think it is much to be desired that the taste of England were more directed to historical painting in a high style; it is by this only that painting raises the mind to noble deeds, and conduces to moral and social ends of an elevated kind. The history-the poetry of England, are full of illustrious actions that deserve to be represented in painting; and did these not exist, the artist should seek them in universal history, in the history of humanity. This truth T. R. HERBERT, A., has recognized; and he has selected one of the finest and noblest subjects in the exhibition," The First Introduction of Christianity into Britain," (11). Beside a Druidical temple, one of the first Christian missionaries presents a cross to a group of persons of different ages and sexes,