between the supreme government and the court of Lahore. At the latter of these dates Sir Alexander Burnes arrived at Runjeet's durbar, bringing with him, as a gift from the prince-regent, four enormous drayhorses, and having carried back some valuable information to Calcutta, was again in 1831 employed on a similar errand, and the move was followed up not long afterwards by a personal interview between the Maha Rajah and the Governor-general. It took place at Ruper, and ended in a solemn renewal of the engagements of 1809, of which, having some notable plans under consideration, Runjeet contrived in due time to obtain the written minutes. The next thing heard of him was that he had assembled a large army and was about to march into Scinde. And very much surprised was he when the British government made him aware that no such scheme of conquest could be permitted; and that if he ventured to cross the line which separated his present dominions from those of the Ameers an army from Bombay would forthwith compel him to return.

Runjeet Singh was very indignant on receiving this announcement. He contrived, however, though not without sending the British envoy away, to hide his chagrin, and being as prudent as he was bold, yielded with a good grace where resistance seemed to be hopeless. And partly, perhaps, because his conduct on the occasion was appreciated, partly because his good will was worth more than the cost, Lord Auckland, in the treaty of 1838, secured to him for ever the provinces which he had wrested from the Affghans. Nevertheless, it is now well understood that his chiefs looked with much disfavour on his acquiescence in the policy of England at that time, and scarcely had he paid Nature's great debt ere the hostile feeling which the natives cherished towards the English connexion shewed itself.

The Lion of the Punjaub died at a very critical moment for the interests and influence of the English in India. We had entered upon our insane expedition to Cabul, and were already involved in difficulties which seem most unaccountably to have taken us by surprise, when the old man,

feeling his end approach, gathered the whole of his principal officers about him and caused them, in his presence, European as well as native, to take the oath of allegiance to his son, Kurruk Singh. This ceremony took place on the 28th of June, 1839, and in a few days subsequently the Maha Rajah expired. Now Kurruck Singh was a very weak man, altogether incapable of sustaining the burden of such an empire as was thus laid upon his shoulders, and though he received it peaceably enough but a short time elapsed ere difficulties began to gather round him. He found in office men whom his father had trusted, Rajah Dhejan Singh, with his son the Rajah Mera Singh, and his brothers Goolab Singh and Soochet Singh, and naturally gave to them the confidence, which they appear never in the previous reign to have abused. But though able men and sprung from a good family, they had been born poor, and worked their way from the station of private troopers in one of Runjeet's regiments of regular cavalry. Success appears to be as fruitful of animosities among the Sikhs as among ourselves, and the four adventurers, envied at every stage, now found that they were hated. Other great men conspired to supplant them in their master's councils, and succeeded. They were wrath, and entered, without delay, into schemes of vengeance. They found also in Noo Nehal Singh, the son of the new sovereign, and a brave and clever youth, a not unwilling instrument wherewith to work. Under the pretext of forcing the Maha Rajah from the presence a dangerous favourite, they broke into the palace with armed men, slew their rival, Cheyt Singh, in the king's presence, and cast into prison a whole family of nobles. followed a proclamation, which set forth that Kurruck Singh was, from mental imbecility, incapable of car rying on the affairs of government. Then was Noo Nehal placed as regent on the throne, and Rajah Mera Singh, though he conceded to his father the foremost place in regard to rank, became, in the exercise of a paramount influence in the palace, at a rival and eye-sore to his

once

nearest of kin.

of

Then

We have already explained that,

from the moment that the Sikhs de-
voted themselves "to steel," all the
humane and pure moral teaching of
Nanac Shah ceased to be remem-
bered. Instead of abjuring war, they
waged it incessantly, and indulged
besides in vices of every sort, as well
those which brutalise amid their ten-
dency to render the perpetrator
effeminate, as in crimes of violence
and an utter disregard to human life.
The court of Noo Nehal soon became
a perfect sink of debauchery, while
his father was understood to be wast-
ing away in his seclusion by a dis-
ease which common report attri-
buted to poison. At last the ill-fated
Kurruck Singh died, and his body
was, with great pomp, consumed to
ashes. But Noo Nehal reaped no
accession to his honours from the
event, for, returning on his elephant
from his father's obsequies, the ani-
mal backed against the gateway of
the palace and brought down a mass
of brickwork upon the head of its
rider. An unworthy favourite, who
occupied the same houdah with him,
was killed upon the spot, while the
skull of Noo Nehal received so se-
vere a fracture that, after lingering a
few hours insensible, he expired.

So sudden a death to the young monarch occasioned a great sensation among the Sikhs. It dissolved, moreover, the whole frame-work of society, for there was no direct heir to claim the throne-none, at least, possessing personal weight enough to ensure a ready acquiescence in the demand. As far as England is concerned, however, the probabilities are that the death of Noo Nehal is not much to be regretted. He never made any secret of his hatred of us, and had planned, and would have doubtless, sooner or later, carried it out, a project for involving us simultaneously in a war with the Punjaub, with Nepaul, Birmah, and Cabul. At the same time, there is no denying that his death has precipitated the struggle. The revolutions which followed it in the Punjaub, fruitful as they have been of evil to the natives of that state, never shook the hatred wherewith the chiefs and soldiery regard us. Indeed, so implacable is this feeling, that the refusal of his temporary successor, Shere Singh by name, to fall upon the rear of General Pollock's army and cut off its

convoys, cost the individual his life.
But we are anticipating.

When Noo Nehal's fate was announced to the minister Dhejan Sing, he cast his eyes at once upon Shere Sing, one of twin sons whom Mehtab, one of Runjeet's wives, had born, but of whom the old Lion never would acknowledge the legitimacy Shere Singh was a man of considerable energy of character, and proceeded at once from his retirement near Umretzur to assume the reins of government; but the widow of Kurruck Singh opposed him, giving out that her daughter-in-law, the relic of Noo Nehal, was enceinte, and that it was her duty to act as regent till the child should be born. At first the tale was credited, so both Shere Singh and Dhejan Singh withdrew again from the capital; but the falsehood came to light as soon as men recalled to their remembrance that the interesting lady numbered no more than eight years of age. Accordingly, Shere Singh took the field again and prevailed. But these claims and counter-claims, as they could not be maintained without constant appeals to the troops, so they soon converted the Sikh army into a body as disorganised and mercenary as were the Prætorian bands of Rome. Rivals bid for their services, and were served and betrayed alternately. Thus Shere Singh having gained his end by largesses, kept his place only till he forgot to be profuse among his troops, and was murdered at a review, the very minister who raised him to the throne being a party to the deed. Other assassinations and military riots followed, till, in the end, all government, or semblance of a government, ceased, and the army, after existing by plunder as long as it could be had on the Sikh side of the Sutlej, advanced towards the river and threatened the protected principalities.

Here, then, we stop for the present. Before we meet our readers again, the results of the operations which have been carried on in the neighbourhood of Loodiana will have transpired; and as soon as we feel ourselves in a position to deal fairly by so important a subject, we will not fail to give a sketch both of them and of the circumstances which shall appear to have led to them and arisen out of them.

MURILLO; OR, THE PAINTER WITHOUT AMBITION.

Ir is through the assistance of the fine arts that we are better acquainted with two of the most striking epochs in the history of Europe than with any other period in history. We allude, first, to that of the Reformation, the reign of Henry VIII., and Cardinal Wolsey, in England, with its corresponding period in Italy and Germany, the reign of the Emperor Charles V., extending to Spain, to that of his successor and son, Philip II., the husband of our Queen Mary.

The second period alluded to in the history of Europe, arrived a hundred years after; it extends over about fifty years of the seventeenth century, comprising the ministries of Cardinal Richelieu and his successor Mazarin in France, corresponding in England with the reign of Charles I., the Rebellion, and the restoration of the Stuarts to power. It is especially to painters that we are indebted for our knowledge of the car dinal ministers of both France and Spain, of their sovereigns, their friends, their enemies, and the courts that they so despotically governed.

The state of the fine arts in Europe at both these periods (the Reformation and the Rebellion) was glorious. At the time of the Reformation, Holbein resided in England; Albert Durer flourished in Germany; Titian, Tintoret, Georgione, and Paul Veronese were protected by the Emperor Charles V.; Raphael, Leonardo da Vinci, Janet, and Prismaticcio, by Francis I.; Michael Angelo was rather persecuted than protected by the different successive popes; and Pierin del Vago, along with several other artists, worked at Genoa for the great and generous Andrea Doria.

Richelieu and Mazarin were equally in their day surrounded by a halo of glory in painting, owing to their enormous wealth; commissions were sent to Italy on a large scale, which laid the foundation of all the collections of France; and, notwithstandand the bad fortune

ing the poverty

of the sovereigns of England and Spain, they protected, as well as their ministers, the fine arts, and both

cordingly, Rubens, Vandyke, Velasquez, and Murillo, along with the famous miniature painters, Oliver, Petitot, and Cooper, having transmitted to posterity the likenesses of all those by whom they were surrounded, we know the air and countenance, the figure and costume of the most celebrated persons of Europe; and thus are we become intimately acquainted with the beauties and wits, and the military and political leaders of the day.

We know the peculiar expression of the unfortunate Charles; the grace of Henrietta Maria; the portly grandeur of her mother, Mary of Medccis; the sternness of Wallstein, according so exactly with Schiller and Coleridge's description of that extraordinary man; the warrior looks of the great commander, Spinola; the fatuity of Buckingham, so exactly in accordance with his character and conduct; and the vulgarity of feature of the minister of Spain, Olivares, joined to his expression of stern good sense.

It is to be regretted that the last great painter of Europe, Murillo, left but few portraits behind him of persons known to posterity. Murillo appears to have been as great in portrait-painting as he was in ideal or religious art. The portraits he has left are perfect in point of truth and nature, but Murillo was an unambitious man. He neither sought the society, the approbation, nor the patronage of kings or ministers. In his character of a mild and gentle gling for independence of mind as nature, there was a sighing and strugwell as habits, that was the marked characteristic of his life. His representations of himself more portray contemplative and poetical nature, this spirit of independence than his and there is more energy, vivacity, and animal life expressed, than would be expected in the gentleness and love of quiet and retirement that belonged to Murillo's character.

There are two portraits of Murillo at Paris; one is reckoned the chefd'œuvre of the Spanish gallery in the Louvre, the other belongs to Louis

loved and understood painting. Ac- Philippe. Both have been engraved,

and are well known in England through the engravings. The one belonging to the king represents him older and more grave in character than the former. The former would suit the character of Columbus; it represents boldness, acuteness, and sagacity. The latter is more religious in feeling and intent on his art. Another portrait, by and of Murillo, is said to belong to Don Berardo de Friate in Spain, was engraved there, and the engravings sold in London; and a fourth portrait is known in Holland and Belgium, and has been engraved in those countries.

There are also portraits in the Louvre of Murillo's mother and of his servant; but the most celebrated portrait by the hand of Murillo is now in England, and belongs to Lord Lansdowne, who bought it from Mr. Watson Taylor. It was brought to England by a Frenchman, but was seen, in 1806, in its original place, that is, hanging up in the repertory of the Hospital de los Venerables at Seville. It represents the superior, Don Justino Francisco Neve, the dear friend and patron of Murillo, in whose arms he died. It is an wholelength of an ecclesiastic, sitting in his arm-chair, and very perfect as portraiture. There is also in the Louvre the portrait of Don Andreas de Antrade, with his dog, a whole-length. Of this picture there are several repetitions in England. One of these repetitions belongs to the queen; another is at Longford Castle in Wiltshire. However, Murillo's portraits are rare. He painted many abbots, bishops, monks, and generals of monastic orders in Spain, for whose convents and chapter-houses he had commissions for large works of a religious nature. Of these persons, few are known out of Spain, and even in Spain their very names and histories are unknown or forgotten.

Murillo's reputation as a painter rests on the ideal in which he soared

on the earthly nature of the Spaniard raised by his imagination and traced to a heavenly nature-on a poetical feeling which came not forth in words, but that went direct from the mind to the hand; at the same time his art was so entirely national, that the most ignorant can immediately distinguish his pictures from

those of any of the Italian school. The religious feeling of his faith and creed is expressed in every performance. We read in his divine pictures the history of Spain and of the Spaniards; the strong and fiery passions of the South, held down by the Inquisition; and the gloom and superstition of its kings and nobles. In Murillo's compositions may be read many a well-known story in Spanish life, and of the greatest individuals of the nation; the wisdom of Ferdinand and Isabella, the gloom and intellect of the Emperor Charles V., the crime and superstition of Philip II., the sagacity and wisdom of Ximenes and Olivares, and even the weakness of the imbecile Charles II., that monarch who so much appreciated Murillo's paintings, that he passed a law prohibiting their exportation out of Spain, thus shewing sense and feeling enough to estimate their merit.

Alongside of the national characteristics of the Spaniards expressed in Murillo's composition, is a colouring that tells of the brilliancy of a fine climate; it is the beautiful on earth, in air and vegetation, allied to faith in God and in the saints; all these deeply imbued with the ferocity of the early religious wars, which made and created those same saints and martyrs. The moral gloom with which Murillo was surrounded only cleared off now and then under the influence of a bright sun by day, and a clear, starry firmament by night.

Like Spagnoletto, Murillo's representation of our Saviour are disagreeable in the extreme. They express human nature, not divine nature; Spaniards in feature, passions, and countenance. Of all the great painters, it is Titian who has best combined the divine and human nature of our Lord, blended and mingled as Scripture has authorised our belief. It must be rather to the pictures of the Virgin Mary and the martyred saints that we must turn to become acquainted with Murillo. See the Madonnas in Marshal Soult's gallery, the way that they float in air on the canvass. They are evidently painted at the hour of setting sun in the south of Europe, and not in the street of a crowded metropolis, under the influence of a chilling

At the sight of Moya's paintings, Murillo fell into an ecstasy of delight; he was touched with the spark which sets the fire of genius into a flame. But what could he do? He had neither money nor patronage; and soon after Moya's visit to Seville, Vandyke died, so that it would have been useless to have gone to England; a journey to Italy was too expensive to think of undertaking; and Moya himself, then but a scholar, was going to Granada. In a fit of despair, Murillo took a desperate resolution; he bought a large canvass, cutting it into small pieces, which he covered with little figures of the Madonna,