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Asiatic suburbs now unfolded themselves more and more; for in the distance we could already distinguish the minarets and mosques of Skutari, could see the crescents glistening, and perceive the streets crossing each other like labyrinths. On a nearer approach, another object, in the midst of the sea, fixed my attention.

At the entrance of the channel into the White Sea, or Sea of Marmara, on an immense mass of stone, in the midst of the waves, stands a tower, which, after an ancient and incorrect tradition, still bears the name of Leander's tower. It is said that here the lover, inflamed with passion swam from one quarter of the world to another, and met with his death in the waves. The Hellespont has been confounded with the Bosphorus, and the catastrophe occasioned by the former has been ascribed to the latter.

Skutari is only a suburb, and the num ber of its inhabitants was stated to me at 70,000. Every one' knows how much dependance ought to be placed on such general data; but certainly all its extensive quarters and numerous streets are populous in the highest degree. Among the suburbs of Constantinople, if that term may be applied to large towns situated in the vicinity of the metropolis, Skutari, doubtless, occupies the first place; for no other is equal to it in extent, and in population it far surpasses

them all.

The situation of Skutari bears a great resemblance to that of the capital. It is composed of alternate hill and dale; the rows of houses and mosques rise gradually one above another, and afford the most picturesque prospects. Between the habitations we behold the variegated verdure of lofty trees grouped in the most pleasing manger, and in the back ground appear still higher hills, interspersed with clumps of trees and Turkish tomb-stones, which cominand a-view of the whole subjacent city.

On these hills is situated a spot which I shall never forget. It is, perhaps, the highest station on the whole Bosphorus, and no other affords such a distant view, Constantinople, with the seraglio, lying exactly opposite, appears there in its, whole majestic extent and no less mag nificent is the prospect of the opposite peninsula of Topana, Galata, and Pera. To the right the channel presents a boundless perspective Never do I remember to have enjoyed a view which, both in the whole and in its parts, made so deep nu impression upon my mind as that from the hills of Skutari,

My eye ranged over the sea, and along the shores of both continents, every where decorated with a thousand objects on which it could repose with delight, and forming a whole so infinitely grand, that we might imagine ourselves transported to the celestial regions, Here glistened the nearest part of the channel, and there lay the capacious and busy harbour, the end of which the eye could scarcely discern. Here the sea dashed against the Tower of Leander, there the arched horizon descended to the water. In the distant back ground of the sea side, towards the south, appeared masts and sails of all sizes, as if placed upon high mountains, and nearer, ships of all sorts and forins sailed to and fro.

Here, between and above the thick forest of masts of the vessels, partly in motion, partly at anchor in the harbour, towers the immense city of Constantinople on its picturesque hills, with its glistening mosques and the pinnacles of its numerous minarets; there on the opposite side the hills of the peninsula, covered with houses, present themselves.

There behind the city and the harbour extend ranges of blue hills, belonging to the European continent; yonder, on both sides of the channel, as far as the eye can reach, it discovers delightful villas and smiling fields. Here, on either side of the suburb, lay the gardens of the Grand Signior; there rose a multitude of summer pavillions in the Oriental style, a style that appears strange to an European eye.

Thus to the east and to the west, to the north and to the south, the spectator is presented with the most beautiful scenes of nature, in which thousands of objects produce upon the eye an effect like that of harmonious music on the ear, and throws the senses into sweet confusion. Every thing there concurs to form the most enchanting whole.

The north coast of the harbour of Constantinople, together with the opposite southern shore forms but one extended city, joining Galata and Pera to the east and south, and composing with those suburbs only one grand whole. The north side of the harbour is nevertheless considerably different from the south side, not only with respect to situation but extent. On the latter, the eye discovers no end of streets and house; on the former, the buildings wind along the shore, and bebind them appear uncultivated fields, bu rial-places, and groves, as far as th ́emi3 M 2

nences

nences which bound the view to the north.

The quarter called Tershana, or the naval arsenal, is pretty extensive, and stretches from Galata along the channel, to a considerable distance. The principal part of the arsenal is seated on the spot where the harbour expands into a bay, and forms a port within a port. A particular portion of this bay is appropriated to the larger vessels, and another to the smaller. Besides the buildings immediately belonging to the construction and equipment of the Turkish navy and the gondolas of the Grand Signior, this part of Constantinople contains the habitations of all the officers attached to the marine of the Porte. The seamen and marines, who are more licentious and ungovernable than the lowest dregs of the people, likewise reside here in a kind of barracks.

Proceeding westward along the quay, we arrive at the suburb of Topana, which is to the military what Tershana is to the naval force. Its situation is still more agreeable, for it stands upon unequal ground, but principally on an eminence, close to the opening of the channel into the harbour, and directly opposite to the seraglio, which lies to the south. It extends westward nearly to the wharfs, to the east it looks towards Leander's Tower and Skutari, and to the north it adjoins the suburb of Fondakli.

Topana, together with Pera, on which it borders to the north-west, and the still more distant and lofty Galata, forms one the most magnificent amphitheatres imaginable. All the three suburbs seem to form but one whole, commencing upon the hills, and descending to the sea-side. Exactly opposite to the seraglio of Constantinople is situated that of Skutari, with its extensive gardens and appurtenances, Proceeding from Skutari by land, and leaving this edifice on the right, we arrive on classic ground, which recals many painful recollections to the mind of the antiquary. Here formerly stood Chalcedon, with its constantly animated road, in which vessels from the north and from the south securely cast anchor, and filled the city with their rich cargoes. Here Grecian taste and ingenuity had erected works for immortality, and here settled the Peloponnesian colony, which, in so short a period, became so flourishing. Nothing now is left but the ruins of those works of antiquity, and the Mussulman who haughtily paces between them, and looks down with con

tempt on superior civilization, is continually removing thein, in order to decorate his fountains and his mosques, his tombs and his monuments, with the relics of Grecian antiquity.

In the mean time that the silver poplar, the walnut, the cypress, and the acacia, seem to bathe themselves in the crystal current of a stream that runs between rocks, ruins, and hills, to discharge itself into the White Sea, numerous groups of houses present themselves to the eye. Their busy inhabitants remind us of the activity of the ancient Chalcedonians. On a ucarer approach we discover that it is the culture of silk winch here employs so many hands, and so exquisitely harmonizes with the delightful climate.

But no pencil can paint, no pen can describe the enchanting scene displayed to the intoxicated eye, on ascending the hill to the left of the village on which stands the great light-house. The conti neut of Asia here forms a cape which projects to a considerable distance into the sea, and is stili denominated the Cape of Chalcedon. At the foot of the lighthouse Sultan Soliman the Second erected a pavilion, composed of several edifices, surrounded with beautiful gardens and plantations of trees, which is called by the Turks Fanari Kiosk.

From the summit of this bill we be hold on one side the broad White Sea with its glistening waves, and in the distance the immense city, with its principal suburbs, which even at this distance produce an incomparable effect. On the other side is a wide valley embellished with various eminences, which unfolds to the eye with a freshness that is to be found only in the East, all the beauties of nature which are peculiar to so happy a climate. In the back ground, over thick woods, we discover mountains with nomerous villages on their sides, and here and there buildings like fairy castles in the clouds. Beneath his feet the spectator has the most luxuriant vegetation, in its numberless tints and colours, and yonder an ever animated and busy channel winding like a broad high road throughr a most delicious country, and gradually appearing narrower, till at length it is totally lost to the view,

The harbour of Constantinople, which at the entrance is six hundred paces broad, becomes more and more contracted, and at length terminates in a bending toward the north-north-west, m the road of Keaghid Khaneh, or Las Esuz

douces, as it is called by the French. At this place the river Lykus empties itself into the harbour Its breadth is various, but in general about fifty paces. It is formed by the junction of two streams, the Barbysses, which comes from the suburb of Belgrade, and the Zydarus Machleva, which rises towards the north

west.

The Lykus is navigable throughout; but here and there it has shallows, two of which are marked with poles, as signals to marmers Across the two other rivers there are bridges, over which lies the road from Pera to Adrianopie. There

are besides several other streams in the vicinity, all of which run through the whole length of the harbour to the Sea of Marmara, and contribute not a little to cleanse and purify it.

From the heaghid Khaneh one direct road leads to Adrianople, another to Varna, and a third to the Danube. There is no other way by land from Pera to the city thau through this quarter, and roads lead from several suburbs on the European side to the canal, which is bere separated from the harbour by a streight of great breadth.

MEMOIRS AND REMAINS OF EMINENT PERSONS.

THE LATE JOHN OPIE, R.A. AND PROFESSOR OF PAINTING TO THE

ROYAL ACADEMY.

HIE Fine Arts may be strictly conTsidered Asts may be strict to

England. They are, indeed, in some measure, contemporary with the present generation, and almost with the present reign. Simple delineation, or the first rude effort towards painting, is common even among barbarous nations; but ages may and rust pass away before the sublimer effort of the pencil begin to be exhibited. If we are to give credit to a great authority, painting, properly so called, was unknown during the epoch of the siege of Troy; and in Greece, fated to excel in every art that can dignity the human mind, a long period intervened, before any thing like perfection was acquired. At length, after a Zeuxis and an Apelles had been formed, and the mould in which they were cast destroyed; the Attic sun reflected his faint departing rays on ancient Italy, and gave birth to an inferior class of imitators. In more recent times, when the Fine Arts revived in that country under more favourable auspices, a Leonardo da Vinci, a Michael Angelo Buonaroti, and a Raffaele, arose, and tended not a little, by their labours, to add to the celebrity of the age in which they flourished.

The Dutch and Flemish schools had already attained a considerable degree of perfection; while England, constantly engaged either in civil broils or foreign wars, did not find time or opportunity, to cultivate the acquirements that spring out of peace and tranquillity.

* Pliny.

At length, however, taste was imported from the Continent, and it was of a species suitable to the age and the religion of the times. Edward III. who, during the greater part of his reign, kept

up a constant intercourse with France and Flanders, wishing to copy what he had seen in more polished countries, employed foreign artists to give a splendour to the ecclesiastical establishments of

his own.

Paintings were accordingly affixed to the walls, while the windows were decorated with stained glass, embellished with scriptural subjects.*

Thus, the Fine Arts may be said to have been planted in this kingdom by » It was the hand of a warrior-king. reserved for a prince of a very different description, and who, from his supposed literary acquirements, might have been called a priest-king, to invite Raffaele and Titian to, and actually to entertain Holbein at, his court. Charles I, whose zeal for the promotion of painting and architecture has embalmed a character in many other respects equivocal, not only formed a very fine collection of works of the great masters, but granted his patronage to Rubens and Vandyck, and enjoys the glory of being the first monarch of England, who extended this species of protection to his natural-born - subjects. Queen Anne, improving on this plau, employed the British pencil to decorate our national monuments; and, finally, in 1768, his present Majesty became the avowed and official protector of the Fine Arts, as patron of the Royal Academy. If this establishment did not create great men,

* Witness the fine monuments in Westminster Abbey, executed in this age.

it at least encouraged them; and to it, perhaps might in some measure be owing a portion of that enthusiasm, with which the subject of the present memoir aspired to, and finally obtained, public

notice.

John Opie, was born in the month of May, 1761, in the little obscure parish of St. Agnes, in the county of Cornwall. His father moved in a humble walk of life, being a village-carpenter; and the education received by the boy is not likely to have been very liberal. He himself, however, at the early age of twelve, taught an evening school; and we are told, by very respectable authority, that at "ten years old, he was not only able to solve many difficult problems of Euclid, but was thought capable of instructing others."

Certain it is, however, that it was not in the character of a pedagogue that young Opie, although denominated the little Sir Isaac," distinguished himself. The first spark of latent genius appears to have been elicited on beholding one of his companions employed on a subject of natural history, and the first effort of the pencil was directed towards the drawing and embellishing of a butter-fly, an object at once gaudy and familiar, and not at all unlikely to attract the ambition of a child.

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It would be curious in this place to trace the improvement of the future painter "e'en from his boyish days," and thus become acquainted with his gress in the three constituent principles of his art-composition, design, and colouring. Perhaps, obscure and insulated individuals, situate in a remote corner of polished country, may resemble nations in the infancy of science. They probably, like them, begin with the mere circumscription of shadows, by means of single lines, and then proceeding by regular stages, advance so far as to employ a single colour, thus becoming skiographists and monochromists in succession, and without assistance. At length an outline is succeeded by drapery and attitude, and one common tint by a variety, and generally a profusion, of colours, until sometining, possessing the necessary qualifications of a picture Ims

been obtained.

Our young and untutored artist bad arrived, as he perhaps thought, at this very stage, when he was brought into notice by the inquisitive spirit and benevolent intervention of a man, who has himself, since that period, stood forth as

a candidate for fame, and been saluted by frequent peals from her trumpets. It may be readily supposed, that the person here alluded to, is no other than the celebrated "Peter Pindar," whose verses have at least as just a claim to origina lity, as the productions of his pupil. This gentleman, whose unpoetic name is Dr. John Wolcott, was born in the town of Dodbrook, near Kingsbridge, in Devonshire, but he was educated in the county of Cornwall. After residing soine years in the Island of Jamaica, under the immediate patronage of his relation, Sir William Trelawney, governor of that island, he returned to England, and practised as a physician at Truro. He had not heen settled there long, before he, by mere accident, discovered, and was enabled by his zeal in respect to the Fine Arts to exhibit to the approbation of the world, an eminent natural genius, who, but for his early patronage, might have been buried for ever in obscurity: for the Poet has very justly, as well as elegantly, observed:

Full many a flow'r is born to blow unseen,

And waste its sweetness in the desert air!" Dr. Wolcott, who has always possessed a taste for painting, and at one time actually wielded the pencil himself as an amateur, with considerable success as to effect, was occasionally carried by his professional pursuits to the village of St. Agnes, about eight miles distant from the usual place of his abode. While there, he had seen and admired some rude drawings in common chalk, especially likenesses, and soon learned the history of the artist at the house of a patient. The lady of the mansion, at the same time pointing to a very popular print of a farm yard, such as is still daily exhi bited in a large window, in the neighbourhood of St. Paul's, observed, that the she had already made mention, had co"sawyer's lad in that parish, of whom pied it very exactly."

On this, the Doctor immediately proceeded to the saw-pit, at the bottom of which he discovered the youth in question, occupied about his daily labours. Having called him up, never to descend again, he began to put questions aboất his performances, and was told, in the true Cornish dialect, the accent of which, never wholly forsook his tongne, “ting

The young man appears at this period to have been actually transferred, at a prich apprentice, to a person of the name of Wheeler,

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be painted blazing stars! Duke Wil- sented his mother, who had been uneasy ham King and Queeh! and Mrs. at his long absence, with the sum of Nankivell's cat!" twenty guineas, the fruit of his receat labours.

On expressing a wish to behold some of these master-picces, the boy, tucking his leathern apron around his loms, immediately bounded across the hedge, and returned, not only with the cat, just alluded to in the catalogue of his works, but also, in addition, with two most ferocious-looking monsters, together with a portrait of the devil, sketched out in strict conformity to vulgar tradition, being provided with a monstrous pair of horns, two goggle eyes, a long tail, &c.

Through the mist of these absurdities, the present professor of physic discovered the future professor of painting, and exclaimed perhaps to himself, in true Horatian ecstacy:

*Non sine Diis, animesus puer !"

On the following Sunday, the lad trudged to Truro, and, by invitation, dined at the house of his new protector; who, impelled by the most disinterested motives, presented him with brushes, colours, &c. These trifling favours were soon followed by others of a more important nature. In addition to practical instructions in his art, he received both bed and board, was accommodated with the use of productions of a superior class of artists, for the purpose of initation; while his own rough sketches were carefully corrected by the hand of friendship, and some little knowledge of light and shadow, for the first time acquired.

By the kindness of his patron, the acquirements of the young painter were now greatly increased, and his fame began to be blazoned abroad. He soon could pencil out a decent head for five shillings, and at the end of a twelvemonth he undertook small half-lengths. When he had thus depicted the likenesses of half the town of Truro, he determined to increase the circle of his practice, and accordingly trudged, with his apparatus, to the neighbouring villages and seats. From a profitable expedition to Padstow, whither he had repaired dressed in a peasant's short jacket, after painting not only the heads, but the inenial servants, together with the dogs and cats, of the ancient family of Prideaux; he returned with a fashionable coat, laced ruffles, and silk stockings! On this occasion, with true filial piety, he pre

William, Duke of Cumberland, the hero of Culluden.

The late Lord Bateman, one of his earliest pat.ons, now employed him on old men, beggars, &e and in 1777, when only sixteen years of age, he painted his own portrait for that nobleman. By this time, he had raised the price of his heads progressively to seven shiitings, ten and sixpence, fifteen, and twenty-one stude lings; it then renamed someume stationary at a gumen.

A great field was now laid open before him; and as he had ever been taught by his first benefactor to aspire so as to become the head of his profession, the boy was not destitute of ambition. Some pictures which he had painted for Mr. Price, of Penzance, have been esteemed by the connoisseurs equal to any of his subsequent productions; and the author of this article, has seen an old man, depicted by his pencil about this period, which, perhaps, none of the latter efforts of his life could have surpassed

cott, that the young man should remove It was now determined by Dr. Wolto Exeter, which has always been considered as the London or the West of Eng land. On this occasion, he bestowed much attention on the person, decora tions, and manners of his associate; and being fully sensible of the overbearing force of vulgar prejudice, he determined that he should change his surname from Iloppy, which it originally had been, and which was conceived to have something vulgar appertaining to it, to that of Opie, the appellation of a very genteel family in the Duchy of Cornwall.

At length in 1780, the Doctor and his patient (for so the latter might be termed in a professional point of view), being both determined to emerge from the obscurity of provincial practice, determined to repair together to the metropolis, and, as they were unmarried, their joint expences were supplied from a common purse. This mode of late, however, as might have been easily conjectured, did not continue long; and Mr. Opie, being the first to perceive is inconveniencies, communicated his opinion by letter to his friend, who happened to be absent in the country: subsequently to t1s period they were never cordially united; they indeed met and visited, but all their for mer attachment was wanting; nor during the remainder of then joint lives did a sincere reconciliation take place.

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