ALEXANDER'S CONFIDENCE IN THE INTEGRITY

OF HIS PHYSICIAN.

THERE is nothing more curious or inscrutible in the phenomena of the human mind than its frequent display of inconsistent and opposite qualities in the same possessor. This was strikingly exemplified in the disposition of Alexander, who, if he was deservedly called the Great, for his extraordinary and successful talents as a general, and for his occasional practice of exemplary virtue, equally deserved the ephithet of Base, for becoming at other times a slave to the most mean and criminal passions, and at last falling a victim to a grovelling appetite. His friendship was succeeded by murderous ingratitude; his compassion by cruelty; his affability by rudeness; his sincerity by treachery; his temperance by luxury: and his magnanimity by suspicion. Thus he murdered Calisthenes, Clitus, and Parmenio, three of his ever faithful veterans; he shed tears over the fallen Darius, after ordering his soldiers to give no quarter on entering Asia; he put to death an Indian garrison to which he had just granted honourable terms of capitulation; he died of a fever produced by excessive indulgence in wine, after "resisting the dainties of Asia, and seasoning his simple repasts with exercise and sobriety;" and he who had conquered nations as much by courage as his talents, suffered his mind to be agitated by foolish fears and distrust. This last feature is no where more conspicuously contrasted than in the noble confidence that forms the subject of the annexed engraving, taken from part of Plutarch's relation of the sickness and cure of Alexander. "Parmenio sent Alexander a letter from the camp, advising him to beware of Philip, whom, he said, Darius had persuaded, by presents of infinite value, and the promise of his daughter in marriage, to take him off by poison. As soon as Alexander had read the letter, he put it under his pillow without showing it to any of his friends. The time appointed being come, Philip, with the king's friends, entered the chamber, having the cup with medicine in his hand. The king received it freely, without betraying the least symptom of suspicion, and at the same time gave him the letter. It was a striking situation, and more interesting than any scene in a tragedy; the one reading while the other was drinking. They looked on each other, but with a different air. The king, with an open and unembarrassed countenance, expressed his regard for Philip, and the confidence which he had in his honour; Philip's look exhibited his indignation at the calumny, One, while he lifted up his eyes and hands to heaven, protesting his fidelity; another, while he threw himself by the bed-side, entreating his sovereign to be of good courage, and to rely upon his care." The settled poise of Alexander's body, as well as his equally settled countenance, which is no otherwise disturbed than by sickness, exhibit a fine portrait of that generous reliance on his friend and physician, which does him more honour than all his conquests, inasmuch as one moral excellence is infinitely superior in genuine worth and dignity to all the talents which enabled him to conquer. The just indignation of the physician, exemplified in his forward start, uplifted hand, and altered look, is also told in the most masterly language of Art; as is the silent admiration of Hephestion, whom the painter has judiciously marked as the elegant and intimate friend of Alexander, by his leaning with graceful familiarity on the king's couch. The intermixture of large with

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lesser and more complicated folds, the elegant flow of line in the drapery, and the beautiful proportions of all the forms, assist in perfecting a picture that is in every respect worthy of the hand that designed it, and of the celebrated biographer from whose description it is taken.

CHRIST CONVERSING WITH THE DOCTORS.

R. H.

"And when he was twelve years old, they went up to Jerusalem after the custom of the feast.

"And when they had fulfilled the days, as they returned, the child Jesus tarried behind in Jerusalem; and Joseph and his mother knew not of it.

"But they, supposing him to have been in the company, went a day's journey; and they sought him among their kinsfolk and acquaintance.

"And when they found him not, they turned back again to Jerusalem, seeking him.

"And it came to pass, that after three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them, and asking them questions.

"And all that heard him were astonished at his understanding and answers.

"And when they saw him, they were amazed: and his mother said unto him, Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing.

"And he said unto them, How is it that ye sought me? wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business? "And they understood not the saying which he spake unto them."-St. Luke, ii. 42—50.

THE main objects of painting are, to satisfy the judgment by displaying a clear, natural, and forcible conception of incident, and to delight the imagination by the beauty or sublimity of the medium through which that incident is conveyed. The ability to effect these objects constitutes the chief test by which the painter's genius, in common with that of the poet, must be estimated, and by which the artist, whose works are here outlined, is placed on so high an altitude of fame. Much of this lucid developement of the incident before us arises from the judicious employment of the hands in their expressive co-operation with the faces. As expositors of the mental and corporeal intent of the painter, they rank immediately after the faces, and are always aptly employed by the President. Indeed we may justly say of his figures that "they think from head to foot." Astonishment, profound attention and debate are depicted with an emphasis demanded by the subject, while the heavenly graces of mind and superior endowments of intellect that equally surprised and instructed, are beautifully blended in the face and form of Jesus, without in the least diminishing the suitable youthfulness of his appearance. The dresses are cast with Mr. West's usual grace and grandeur. They are tastefully subdivided in their folds, without destroying the requisite breadth.

R. H..