ned with a turkey. Most of the guests are listening
to the captain. From an open window in the distance, the facades of two
houses are seen, surmounted by stone figures of sheep."

There, now you know all about it: now you can go home and paint just
such another. If you do, do pray remember to paint the hands of the
figures as they are here depicted; they are as wonderful portraits as
the faces. None of your slim Van Dyck elegancies, which have done duty
at the cuffs of so many doublets; but each man with a hand for himself,
as with a face for himself. I blushed for the coarseness of one of the
chiefs in this great company, that fellow behind "WILLIAM THE DRUMMER,"
splendidly attired, sitting full in the face of the public; and holding
a pork-bone in his hand. Suppose the Saturday Review critic were to
come suddenly on this picture? Ah! what a shock it would give that noble
nature! Why is that knuckle of pork not painted out? at any rate, why
is not a little fringe of lace painted round it? or a cut pink paper?
or couldn't a smelling-bottle be painted in instead, with a crest and a
gold top, or a cambric pocket-handkerchief, in lieu of the horrid pig,
with a pink coronet in the corner? or suppose you covered the man's hand
(which is very coarse and strong), and gave him the decency of a kid
glove? But a piece of pork in a naked hand? O nerves and eau de Cologne,
hide it, hide it!

In spite of this lamentable coarseness, my noble sergeant, give me thy
hand as nature made it! A great, and famous, and noble handiwork I have
seen here. Not the greatest picture in the world--not a work of the
highest genius--but a performance so great, various, and admirable,
so shrewd of humor, so wise of observation, so honest and complete of
expression, that to have seen it has been a delight, and to remember
it will be a pleasure for days to come. Well done, Bartholomeus Vander
Helst! Brave, meritorious, victorious, happy Bartholomew, to whom it has
been given to produce a masterpiece!

May I take off my hat and pay a respectful compliment to Jan Steen,
Esq.? He is a glorious composer. His humor is as frank as Fielding's.
Look at his own figure sitting in the window-sill yonder, and roaring
with laughter! What a twinkle in the eyes! what a mouth it is for a
song, or a joke, or a noggin! I think the composition in some of Jan's
pictures amounts to the sublime, and look at them with the same delight
and admiration which I have felt befor