SALVATOR ROSA AND HIS WORKS II. WE left Salvator Rosa at that point in his history when, through the notice which Lanfranco took of one of his pictures, a more ready market for them could be obtained. The advantage thus gained had the effect of relieving Salvator from the worst of his distress; but it at the same time roused the feeling of independence in him, and led him to reply in the most cutting satires to the calumny and abuse which the other artists of Naples now began to heap on him, through envy of his superior talents. He procured for himself many enemies, by the epigrams and songs which his restless spirit poured forth against those whom he felt to be mentally his inferiors. fortunately acquired the good services and friend. ship of Ancillo Falcone, a pupil of Spagnuolo, and himself a distinguished painter; and might thus have attained a respectable position in his native city. But his ideas, feelings, and opinions were so uncompromising, that he would not consent to paint such subjects as happened to be in fashion at that time at Naples, such as martyrdoms, tortures, massacres, &c: he persisted in painting those sublime and natural scenes which were more congenial to his temperament. The consequence was, that he was still dependent on the dealers, though he obtained higher prices than before. Finding that his exertions were insufficient to procure the means of living even respectably, with his mother and sisters, at Naples, he resolved to quit his native country altogether, and to seek employment elsewhere. Accordingly, in 1634, and consequently when he was about nineteen years of age, he left Naples, and went to Rome; travelling the greater part of the way on foot, with his wardrobe strapped to his back, and his portfolio before him. Milton visited Rome at the same time as Salvator Rosa, or as some say, two or three years later; the great poet was received with distinguished honours, whereas the poor painter had no friendly hand or heart to greet him. that he could not recover his health but by returning to his native climate, he left Rome and wended his lonesome way to Naples, in 1635, more miserable in condition, and more depressed in mind than when he left it. He found, on his return, that his mother had gone for refuge to the house of her brother, Paolo Grecco; and that his sister and her husband were plunged in the lowest depths of poverty. He once again roused his courage, and tried to provide the means of subsistence for himself and family. But the enmity of his old rivals rendered all his efforts unavailing; and he could scarcely sell enough of his productions to provide himself with the bare necessaries of life. Some of his biographers have inveighed against the society and institutions of the times, which could make such a man struggle unavailingly against poverty and distress; but unless we knew all the collateral events, we could not say how much his misfortunes were due to himself: it is certain that his sarcastic and often bitter wit, together with his uncontrollable love of independence, and the strength of his imagination, would frequently have led such a man into trouble in any country and in any age. Just at the period when Salvator was sinking into despondency, an event occurred which threw a gleam of sunshine over his prospects. Francesco Brancaccia, a Neapolitan noble who was made cardinal by Pope Urban VIII., sent to Naples for one Girolamo Mercuri, to take the office of Maestro di Casa in the splendid establishment which the cardinal had at Rome. This Mercuri had been a fellow-student and an ardent admirer of Salvator; and he now succeeded in persuading the indigent artist to accompany him to Rome. Salvator, arrived in Rome, was allowed an apartment in the cardinal's palace, and was invited to avail himself of all those advantages which the painting-schools of that city afforded. But his liar temperament again prevented him from following in the wake of other men: he disliked schools, patrons, copyists, and all that interfered with the unshackled exercise of his imagination. He refused to paint such subjects as were then in vogue at Rome; but continued to paint, whether he could find a sale for them or not, his bandits, rocky scenes, and wild copies from nature. The connoisseurs of Rome did not know what to think of the new artist; he despised the rules which they had been accustomed to follow, and they could only give the name of capricci (caprices) to his pictures. pecu The cardinal being made Bishop of Viterbo, Mercuri and Salvator accompanied him to that town, and this appears to have been the period at which the artist was introduced to the cardinal. An order was given to him to paint the portico and loggia of the episcopal palace in fresco, the subject being left to himself. He selected an imaginative subject, and pleased the cardinal so much as to obtain the honour of painting a grand altar-piece for the Chiesa della Morte at Viterbo. He selected as his subject the "Incredulity of St. Thomas," and produced a picture which gained considerable praise, though not so much as in subsequent times. Circumstances which his biographers seem unable to explain, but which proba Rome was at that time the rendezvous for artists of totally opposite styles; viz., those of Italy generally, and those of Flanders and Holland. The Italian painters usually chose subjects of an elevated cast,— either a representation of some of the exquisite scenes of nature, or groups embodying the most striking passages in the Bible. Whereas, the Flemish artists were prone to represent coarse and vulgar scenes, such as occur in the lives of the humbler classes in almost every city: those who have seen the "alehouse" scenes of Teniers, the "interiors" of Ostade, &c., will readily understand this style. Painters of this latter school were wholly repugnant to the taste and ideas of Salvator; and as he was too obscure to mingle among the great Italian artists of the times, he accustomed himself to wander amidst the classical scenes with which Rome and its environs abound, sketching wherever he went, and selling his sketches in the evening to the brokers and dealers in the Piazza Navona. He has left a poem of about a hundred lines, written by himself at this period, in which he discloses the bitter pangs and disappoint-bly arose from the restless tone of his mind, caused ments, the miseries and the sickness, which he experienced while residing at Rome. The marshes in the neighbourhood of the city are known to be the source of a malignant malaria, from which Salvator suffered much during his long rambles in their vicinity. He was attacked with fever; and being nearly penniless, was received into an hospital at Rome, where his life was saved. As it was, however, intimated to him, him to leave the cardinal's protection after the lapse of about a year, and return to Naples. A certain degree of reputation had preceded his third return to his native city, and he found himself looked upon with more respect than before; he therefore immediately began to take measures to procure for himself an Italian reputation, in the full sense of the term. There were generally two exhibitions held every year at Rome, at which the greatest works of the greatest painters were placed in juxtaposition. To one of these exhibitions Salvator sent a large picture of Prometheus," which at once caused him to be ranked among the finest painters of the age:-his diminutive appellation of "Salvatoriello" instantly dropped: his picture was celebrated in prose and verse; and the Pantheon, under whose roof it was exhibited, became crowded with visitors. Salvator, yet in Naples, heard of the success of his picture, and at the entreaty of Mercuri, returned to Rome, where he hired a small house in the Via Babbuina, and gradually drew around him a small circle of friends whose tastes were congenial to his own. "Four thought it too much; and returned the next day to ask The year 1647 arrived, and with it the celebrated insurrection at Naples, headed by Masaniello, of which a sketch has been given in an early volume of our vork*. No sooner did Salvator hear of an event which so much accorded with his restless and independent tone of mind, than he shut up his house at Rome, bade adieu to the easel and the pencil, and went to Naples, where he immediately joined Masaniello, as one of a company of young men called the Compagnia della Morte. Throughout the brief but momentous struggle between Masaniello and the Spanish Viceroy, Salvator fought as a volunteer soldier; but the ardour of his hopes and plans was checked by the death of Masaniello; and the consequent reinstatement of the viceroy in authority. His "Prometheus" brought him more fame than profit; he was still most worldly poor, when at the carnival of 1639 we find him entering on a new and strange career. One feature of the Roman carnivals of that period was a stage mounted on wheels, and occupied by actors and buffoons. The visitors at this carnival were attracted by the arrival of a stage, or moving platform, on which was a personage representing a Neapolitan actor, who, in his recitations and speeches, exhibited such genuine wit, such bitter satire, and such exquisite humour, that all were charmed with him; particularly as, at intervals, he sang some Neapolitan ballads, accompanying himself cleverly on the lute. Every one burned with impatience to know who this extraordinary man was; when, on going off the Corso, he lifted his mask, and showed the features of Salvator Rosa.-This circum-trated by a copy of Salvator's pictures, which embody stance had the effect of introducing Salvator to the conversazioni and assemblies of the nobles at Rome, where he exhibited the versatility of his talents as a poet, dramatic writer, composer, singer, musician, actor, and improvvisatore; and gained that degree of distinction for which, as an artist, he had so long struggled. It appears, however, that Salvator felt such a mode of life to be unworthy of a great painter; and he therefore left the salons of the great to return to his painting room. The patrons whom he had gained by his versatile talents now befriended him, by purchasing all his landscape pieces at good prices; and his landscapes soon occupied a place beside those of Claude Lorraine and Gaspar Poussin, who were among his contemporaries at Rome. He now became a man of personal distinction at Rome, dressing elegantly, and receiving company at his house, whom he attracted by the versatility of his talents. But he also succeeded in obtaining the more solid respect and friendship of Carlo Rossi, a Roman banker, who employed him as an artist, and visited him as a friend Many other really worthy and distinguished men at Rome also sought his society; and from one of them, the Conte Carpigna, he obtained an order to paint a large battle-piece, at his own discretion. The present, as well as the former, article is illus. certain well-known incidents in the life of Diogenes the Cynic. This philosopher flourished in the fourth century before the Christian era. He taught that a wise man, in order to be happy, must try to keep himself independent of fortune, of men, and of himself: he must therefore despise riches, power, honour, arts and sciences, and all the pleasures of life. He tried to exhibit in his own person a model of Cynic virtue. He was satisfied with the coarsest food, was rigidly temperate, and displayed a wonderful neglect of personal conveniences. By day he walked through the streets of Athens barefoot, without any coat, with a long beard, a stick in his hand, a wallet on his shoulders, and a little wooden drinking-bowl: but seeing a boy drink water in the hollow of his hand, Diogenes threw away his bowl as a superfluity. (See Frontispiece to the present article.) At another time Diogenes was seen carrying a lantern through the streets of Athens in the daytime, and on being asked what he was looking for, replied, "I am searching for an honest man. (See Frontispiece to our former article, p. 177). On being asked 'What is the most dangerous animal?" he said " Among wild animals, the slanderer; among tame, the flatterer." When he felt the approach of death (B.C. 324,) he sat down in the road leading to Olympia, and died calmly in the preHe was now full of employment. Altar-pieces, | sence of a large number of people. colossal historical subjects, small landscapes, concetti, -all emanated from his pencil with extraordinary fertility; and his musical and poetical compositions appear to have equalled, in rapidity of execution, his pictures. He had now arrived at that period of his life for which he had long thirsted,-viz., when he could fix his own prices; and the largeness of these prices showed the estimation in which he held his own talents. Even to his friend and patron, Carlo Rossi, he would not abate a ducat; but often, when the price was more than Rossi felt disposed to pay, Salvator would, a day or two afterwards, send him the pic-instrument for the speedy dispatch of business. It creates TRUTH is the most compendious wisdom, and an excellent ture as a present. On another occasion, a Roman confidence in those we have to deal with, saves the labour words.- -Spectator. *See Saturday Magazine, Vol. XII., pp. 41 and 65. It finds TRUE PHILOSOPHY.-True philosophy unfolds the design prince asked him the price of a certain picture;— of many inquiries, and brings things to issue in a few "Two hundred scudi," was the reply. The noble NATURAL HISTORY OF THE MONTHS. XII. DECEMBER. And after him came next the chill December; DARK December has at length arrived; the earth has completed another of her annual journeys, and has brought us to the middle of winter, to the season of chilliness and cloudiness, of cheerless skies, dreary prospects, and miry roads. Severe frost does not usually set in till towards the close of the month; but a damp and chilling state of the atmosphere often prevails, which is more unpleasant than frost. The days are now at the shortest, the time that the sun remains above the horizon being, on the twentyfirst of the month, something less than eight hours, even in the southern parts of our island. : Vegetable nature seems to have fallen into a state of torpor, and to have retired, like the hybernating animals, to some secret mansion, there to sleep away the cold and unpropitious season, till the warmth of the ensuing spring shall arrive and awaken her to her accustomed energy. But this is not really the case while apparently slumbering, she is actually engaged in preparing and compounding all the beautiful verdure, and the pleasing forms of the coming season. The fair profusion that adorns the spring, the richer flowers and fruits of summer, and the wide-spread bounties of autumn, are nothing more than the perfect results of what has been prepared and fabricated in silence and secresy during these dull months. Had we the faculty to detect and to observe what is going on beneath the rugged and unsightly bark of the tree that now lifts its bare arms towards the sky, we should be filled with wonder and admiration at the sight: there should we behold the manufactory going on of "materials for its leaf and its bark; for the petals and parts of its flowers; the tubes and machinery that concoct the juices, modify the fluids, and furnish the substance of the fruit, with multitudes of other unknown operations and contrivances, too delicate and mysterious to be seen, or even comprehended, by the blindness, the defectibility of our nature-things of which we have no information, being beyond the range of any of the works or the employments of mankind." Unvaried is the scene around us at this season, and therefore few are the remarks we need offer on the appearance of our fields and plains. Were it not for the evergreens, occasionally seen in hedgerows, and more frequently clustered around our dwellings, all would be naked and barren; but these welcome trees and shrubs afford a pleasing contrast to the rest, and also screen us in some measure from the severity of the wintry blasts. The holly, (Ilex aquifolium) is one of the greatest ornaments of the season: there is a vigour and healthfulness about the tree, and a brightness in the contrast of its shining leaves and crimson berries, that make it deservedly a favourite. This tree is not only pleasing to the eye, but very useful; the provision it affords to poor hungry birds, during the severe weather, is of the utmost importance to them; the young shoots of the tree likewise are eaten by sheep and other animals. Holly-bushes, though slow of growth and difficult to rear, on account of the depredations committed on them during the Christmas season (when holly is so abundantly used to decorate our churches and dwellings), form a handsome and substantial fence. Mistletoe (viscus) is another plant now in perfection. This curious parasite derives its sustenance from other living trees, and is often found growing on the stems and branches of oak-trees. The obscure manner of its growth and propagation, and the season of the year in which it flourishes, have caused this plant to be regarded with a great degree of superstitious veneration in times passed. In Druidical worship it was especially honoured, and was supposed to possess the virtue of healing many diseases. The sixth day of every month was set apart to search for it, and the joy of the people on discovering it was very great, This plant is supposed to be propagated by the mistletoe thrush (Turdus viscivorus) which feeds on the berries during winter. The glutinous nature of these berries causes them to adhere to the beak of the bird, and in his efforts to disengage them, "he strikes them against the parts of the tree on which he alights, aud leaves the weeds sticking to the bark." This is the account usually given of the propagation of mistletoe: it has been found upon trial exceedingly difficult to place the seeds in such a manner as to prevent their being washed off by the rain, but if a slit or indenta tion be made in the bark, the seeds will most likely germinate and produce plants in any situation we may desire, provided the tree itself be favourable to the growth of the plant. It is not uncommon to find the mistletoe growing on apple-trees: the largest plant of the kind ever seen by the writer of this article, was found a short time since amid the diverging branches of an apple-tree of ancient growth. Several species of moss, nourished by the moisture which is abundantly supplied to them during the early part of the month, attract our attention by their fresh and beautiful appearance, and the numerous family of lichens also offers many attractions to the botanist. The microscopic examination of these inconspicuous plants, reveals a world of wonders to the admirer of natural productions, and displays beauties which are wholly unknown to the majority of persons. The white, or yellow, or gray patches, which can scarcely fail to be noticed on the trunks and branches of trees, on old palings, on the walls of ancient edifices, on tomb-stones, and even on the paved way beneath our feet, if not too much frequented to allow of their growth-all these picturesque-look ing stains, (as we should be apt to consider them,) giving a venerable and time-worn aspect to the site they occupy, are nothing less than different species of the interesting family of plants called lichens, of which Sir J. E. Smith, in his English Botany, has given coloured figures of about three hundred and fifty British species. This family is of considerable importance, as furnishing us with dyes, chiefly of different shades of purple and crimson; while to the inhabitants of polar regions it is of much greater value, since the rein-deer has little other provender than a species of lichen, (L. rangiferinus,) called reindeer moss, and since the Laplanders are almost wholly supplied by that useful animal with the means of existence. The nutritive properties of lichens are far greater, and their growth is far more considerable, in those regions of frost and snow, than in our own country; yet it is not improbable that a nourishing diet for invalids might at length be obtained from some of our native species, having similar properties, though not to the same extent, with the Lichen islandicus, or Iceland moss, which is imported for that purpose; or with the species of lichen, or fucus, which in 1830 was made use of by the starving population of Ireland, and was called by them carrachan moss, and which has since become a favourite article of diet for the use of invalids. When autumn and her fruits have passed away, (says Drummond,) and winter has succeeded To rule the varied year, Sullen and sad, with all his rising train; Vapours, and clouds, and storms, the vegetable creation seems abandoned to desolation and death. Yet the pursuits of the botanist are not even then necessarily suspended, since many cryptogamic plants, especially the mosses, put on their best attire, and to the inquiring eye exhibit a structure more beautiful than is to be perceived in the noblest trees of the forest. At this season, too, the fuci and other sea-weeds furnish an abundant harvest; and Nature, ever benignant, retains some of the natives of the bright summer, and furnishes her admirers with a few sweet specimens to compensate in some degree the loss of the more numerous and gaudy progeny of the sunny days that are gone by. The flower-garden is not utterly despoiled of its attractions even in this gloomy month. A few lingering marigolds and anemones, some clusters of mignonette, and if the frost has not been very severe, a tolerable variety of chrysanthemums, are still to be seen; while the hardy aconite, and the hellebore, or Christmas rose, boldly put forth their blossoms. The China rose, scarcely appreciated amid the glow of bright forms in earlier months, is now an especial favourite, and its pale blossoms are much in request to give a delicate perfume to our apartments. The kitchen-garden exhibits long unbroken lines of freshlooking green in the celery-beds which adorn it, and in the late-planted lettuces placed in the sheltered borders to stand the winter. The hardy endives spread out their curiously-curled leaves, or are undergoing the operation of blanching, and the ranks of cauliflower, brocoli, kale, and cabbage, give an orderly appearance to the well-arranged garden. Soon after the winter solstice, or shortest day (December 21st), frost and snow usually set in; and while the cold becomes more piercing, the dryness of the ground, and the occasional brightness and clearness of the atmosphere, enable us to brave the season out of doors, with more pleasurable feelings than those with which we encountered the mists and mire of the previous weather. To those who are in the possession of health and strength, a continuance of frosty weather has many charms; they can enter into the pleasures of exercise and diversion at this season, and feel warmed and exhilarated by walking, riding, skating, &c. Let such persons remember with compassion the case of the aged poor, and, as far as they may be able, provide for the wants of those whose infirmities make them doubly susceptible of the cold, against which they are so scantily defended. The sufferings of the aged, and of the poor generally at this season, notwithstanding the efforts made to relieve them, must often distress the benevolent and feeling heart, and prove some alloy to the satisfaction which the approach of winter would otherwise inspire. For that winter is anticipated and loved by those who have learned to find charms in every season of the year, we are well aware: hence the language of the Poet:- Though now no more the musing ear Sweet is the Summer's evening gale, And pleasant to the sober'd soul The silence of the wintry scene, When Nature shrouds herself, entranced In deep tranquillity. Not undelightful now to roam The wild heath, sparkling on the sight; Not undelightful now to pace The forest's ample rounds, And see the spangled branches shine, And mark the cluster'd berries bright, That clasps its foliage close. Endures calamity.-SOUTHEY. We have now given our scattered observations on the Natural History of each month of the year; and in closing this interesting and instructive subject, we cannot but remark the rapid but stealthy progress of time, which has carried us on from one scene to another, has presented to us, in succession, the buds, and blossoms, and fruits of the year,-has scattered all these with the verdure and the foliage which surrounded them, and has brought us again to the point from which we set out, to the scene of desolation peculiar to winter. This annual course of things has taken place in the usual manner, and at the ordinary rate of time; yet in attempting to mark their progress we have found them apparently fleeting away with double speed. May our attempt to lead the attention of our readers to the beautiful succession of natural phenomena going on around them succeed in exciting a spirit of observation and inquiry, especially amongst the young, and may they be led to view the hand of God in everything. One Spirit-His Who wore the platted thorns with bleeding brows- L COWPER. GEMS AND PRECIOUS STONES. V. THE last siliceous gem we have to mention is the OPA a stone much softer than the ordinary quartz, but not on that account to be excluded from the list of gems, since its beautiful changing appearance has caused it to be held in very high estimation, in ancient as well as modern times. We are told that a Roman senator, named Nonnius, preferred banishment to giving up a favourite opal, which was coveted by Mark Antony. This will give some idea of the value attached to these gems in former days; indeed it appears that at all times an opal of unusual size and lustre is exceedingly valuable, and will fetch an enormous sum. A stone of this kind was purchased by the Russian general, Prince Potemkin, for the sum of one thousand ducats, having been taken, as was affirmed, by Nadir Shah, from the head of a Gentoo idol, of which it formed one of the eyes. In the middle ages the opal was called orphanus, (the orphan,) from the circumstance of Albert the |