haps unsafe in the tenacity of its parts, but answer- with garments befitting a maiden; you shall then ing the purpose tolerably. Wrapping this mantle hear my unhappy history." around her, under the natural mantle of her hair, and spreading this last in concealing disarray about her person, she awaited the end. Her heart and lips throbbed and quivered, to be sure, and she might have wept, but that her late sad life had deepened the well of tears. over the autumnal hills. Metra saw the streaks of his light upon the walls and floor of her prison. One of them traversed her body, resting its golden point upon the arch of her white instep. She moved more into the shadow. A noise of birds twittering about the stable-eaves, and singing blithely on the wing above them, came to the matutinal bidding. One, a purple-glossed swallow, darted through a crevice in the wall, whirled past the maiden's head, made a skilful course of the stalls, returned to whirl past it again, and then, as if perfectly informed of the reality of the wonder, passed out, by the same crevice, to give an account of his extraordinary discovery and adventures to the crowd of his companions. The voice and gentle words reassured Menon. His eyes dwelt upon the charming speaker. Metra marked the close scanning of the youth, and, blushing to her temples, said: "If you have a mother, I beseech you to bring Apollo came up gladly her speedily hither. It is not seemly that I should remain here; and-alas!-your own eyes already note me as common, and of little value." And Metra aided the sweetness of her tongue with tears. "Apollo!" said Metra, clasping her hands, and falling upon her knees, "Apollo-beautiful and generous! rescue me, a poor child, from the horrors of this condition. Thou knowest that I am not unworthy-being a pure maiden-of thy kindly care. Rescue me. The autumnal wood is dodal under the splendor of thy flashing locks. Bear me to its wildest recesses, that my maiden purity may not meet the jeering eyes of men. Apollo-beautiful and generous-be kind to me." This prayer exposes the simple and relying piety of the maiden. If she had been skeptically acquainted with the character of Apollo she would have hesitated to make so singular a request of him. She had, doubtless, been kept ignorant of his adventures with Daphne, Cyrene, and a great many others. Menon, abashed out of his scrutiny, blushed a little, and, placing his hand on his heart, promised that he would instantly acquaint his mother with the maiden's presence and wish. And, so doing and saying, he left the stable in a great hurry, and went to fulfil his promise. A stately old dame, with a cap four feet high, and spectacles upon nose, came at a slow pace towards the stable and Metra. 66 Madam," said Metra, calmly, when the dame was drawn near, "you find me in distress. That will plead with your kind heart to give me present relief. I can convince you, at a better time, that I am innocent as well as unhappy." The mother of Menon, touched by the distress and beauty of the fair stranger, made haste to clothe her beauty in more becoming and reputable habili ments. Servants ran about, and it was not long before Metra stepped into the sunshine surrounded by a troop of waiting women, and looking as beautiful as Aurora-only with the sad eyes of the earthly-weak Merope. It is said, and I am unable to contradict it, that the music of a sweet instrument sounded in the air, or under the earth, or from some unascertained quarter which the inclining ears of the waiting-women were pricked to discover, as the train passed from the stables. The music had a sweet effect upon Metra. Her red lips murmured "Apollo"-and her eyes acquired the lustre of a divine hope. Crossing her arms upon her bosom, she moved with the stately step of one assured of the loving protection of the gods. And so the train entered the house of Menon. A low twanging, as of a harp string, came from the rafters above her head, and Metra, assured of the god's protection, folded her arms upon her bosom, and awaited the end. Presently some notes of natural music reached her ears. It was the melodious whistling of Menon. He came to look The story of Metra was presently told, without after his horse. The key turned in the lock-a a particle of concealment. If you had been near kick which did not drive the door open, another you would have seen that the youth, Menon, listenthat did, and he entered. "By Pluto!" said Me-ed with his heart as well as his ears. non, who saw nothing of his horse. He stepped A week passed away. Under the serene umthree steps on. Some tresses of Metra's hair brage of a dell, in the wide spreading grove, Mecaught his eye. He advanced and stood within a non and Metra walked and talked as lovers. step of her. Within one step of her he stood, but "I cannot conceal from you, Menon," said Metra, then he at once increased the step to half a dozen. in answer to some warm urgency of the youth's It is not a common thing to see a beautiful woman, passion, "that your kindness wins daily upon me. veiled with hair, in the stall of a horse. Metra, But I am devoted by Fate and filial affection to the finding the youth utterly astounded, spoke. fortune of my father, Erisicthon. The curse of "Menon," she said, with tones of resigned sad-Ceres still clings to him, and his canine hunger is ness, “you are amazed to find me here. My story unappeasable. Let us, in the purity of our youth, will increase your amazement. But provide me journey with sweet instruments of music to the foot of Olympus, and offer up sacrifices and prayers this she drew her skirts a little up and walked to the great goddess. She may relent: then, happy away over the ascending slope of Olympus. in the happiness of my father, and in the satisfied love of my own heart, which, in my candor, I do not conceal from you, the days will pass gladly with me, Menon." The feast was made ready at the old house in the oak grove. The clergyman had just arrived in a barouche, holding, in addition to himself, his wife and eleven small children, drawn by a meek old And Metra, full of the joyous hope, melted Me- horse, with the agitations of a springhalt in his non with the glory of her eyes. gait. The venerable horse was moving slowly "I bring Erisicthon," said Ceres. "I will that, from this moment, he be as he was, before stricken by care and hunger." Then it was arranged that the propitiatory pil- from the door. "Make way for my lady's chariot," grimage and sacrifices should be made. was heard above the grinding sound of rapidly apOn a fair autumn day, with a cool breeze to chide proaching wheels. It was a bravely adorned wothe over-warmth of the sun and the tinted shades man, with a majestic presence, that descended of the gorgeous boughs of forests mellowing the from the chariot and entered. All knew Ceres. natural light of a thousand lovely scenes, the pil-She led a miserable man by the hand who, amazed grims set forth on the way to Olympus. Menon at what he saw, blinked his feeble eyes in the wedand Metra marched first, the one with the heat of ding lights. passion on his cheek, the other calm with a serene and consoling confidence in the mercy of Ceres. A sow, with her farrow, was led in the midst of the crowd that came after. The sow grunted; her offspring also remonstrated: It was to no purpose. Lofty music drowned the remonstrances. "You will return to your house to-morrow," the train swept on, gathering way-farers as it went, whispered Ceres to him. "I shall have the present and came, at last, to the foot of Olympus. After owner ousted to night. You shall be reinstated the sacrifice had been offered, and the loudest peal where my curse found you; but bear in mind hereof the blended music had gone up with a glorious after that the lovely trees of the earth are living swell, and come down with a wandering and fitful things, suffering and rejoicing, after their kind and cadence, (what goes up must come down,) a stout in their degree." country-woman, who had joined the train by the The wedding rite was over. Ceres took a hand way-side, stepped out of the crowd, and, walking of Menon and a hand of Metra, and, with a divine to where Menon and Metra stood, awaiting some aureola encircling her majestic head, bestowed her divine utterance or gleam of light, addressed her self to the latter. And so “Metra," she said, "your father committed a great outrage upon me; and all the polite attentions yourself and this good-looking young gentleman can shew me, shall not change my opinion of him. But, nevertheless, I am willing to wipe out old scores, for your sake--my dear." Menon and Metra, of course, stared very much. "You are a little perplexed, my young friends," said the stout country-woman; you probably do not recognize me. I am Ceres." Erisicthon became, in a moment, a hale and portly country-gentleman. blessing upon them-saying: 66 Metra, your filial piety and sweet resignation to an unhappy fortuneMenon, your truth and gentle kindness have made you, joined now in hands and love, and one household, my peculiar care. So it has been that I have forgiven this old man; so it is that I bestow my blessing upon you; so it will be that sorrow shall never darken your doors. Farewell. I am obliged to leave you now on very important business." Plenty ever after filled the garners of Erisicthon. Love and happiness took up their abode with Menon and Metra. With the words, three hundred knees-there being just one half so many persons in the company- Having thus vindicated the truth of history, I were bent to the ground, and a prayer which sound-retire from the admiring gaze of an appreciating ed like the shouts of an army storming a city, made public, with that prompt grace for which my friends the leaves on Olympus quake. "That will do," said Ceres, blushing under the extraordinary civility. "I accept the sacrifice. Erisicthon shall return to a slender, natural appetite. Go, my young friends and marry as soon as you will. But stop-I am just now at leisure. I will be very busy after to-day. I should like very much to be at your wedding, and insist that you invite me to witness the ceremony to night." Metra blushed-Menon looked delighted and as soft-eyed as an amorous falcon. 66 declare me to be remarkable. JOSEPH JENKINS. The magnificent edition of Camoen's As Lusiadas printed in 1817 by Dom Jose Souza, assisted by Didot, is perhaps the most immaculate specimen of typography in existence. In a few copies, however, one error was discovered occasioned by one of the letters in the word Lusitano getting mis Go back," said Ceres, "and make the wedding-feast ready. I will be punctual"—and saying placed during the working of a sheet. WHENCE COME YE? Dreams of the calm midsummer night, Whence come ye? Dreams of hope-with the rainbow's hue Whence come ye? Dreams which tell of kingly power; Dreams of a fairy's dew-drop throne, Dreams of love-which in whisperings tell, Amid the voices of the night, Listen ye. 'Mortals! there is a bright land of dreams- tional literature would come any the sooner by their crying for it than by their writing for it, and meanwhile they are mostly authors of such mean abilities, that while they are crying it up, they are writing it down. From this principle, however, has originated a vast and vapid array of novels, tales, poems, &c., founded on the red men and the Revolution, which two branches comprehend almost all the available nationality we can boast of, always excepting those everlasting Pilgrim Fathers, who have so often, on canvass, been placed, bare headed and handed, amid ice and snow and the dreariest cold of a New England winter, that it is a special Providence they have not been frozen to death long ago. Some wiseacres have proposed that all American books and newspapers should be printed in a peculiar letter, avoiding all forms of the Roman as being decidedly English. Their preference, I believe, lay in what is called the Gothic, which having the hair lines of the letters of the same thickness with the rest, was to exemplify the theory of republican equality! They would thus secure a type of nationality even if they missed the substance. Another and a later set, still more rabid, have attempted to remodel the orthography of the whole language, and they print books and a newspaper in a character that looks as if their fount of type had been mixed up with portions taken from other founts of Greek, old Saxon, Russian, Coptic and Gibberish. This is a free country, and men are at liberty to make fools of themselves in any harmless way they like, especially if they pay the expenses themselves. Some architects have carried the principle of nationality into their branch of the fine arts, and have proposed a column whose capital shall be adorned with silk-tasseled ears of Indian corn, and strings of tomatoes, which, as the "American order," shall supersede, among the "Natives," the acanthus leaves and almonds of the graceful Corinthian and the chaste Ionic. We have seen the raising of a Gothic monument to Washington objected to, because Gothic architecture belonged to the Dark Ages, when Europe was There are some men among us who are such scru- overspread with Romanism and Feudalism; and it pulous and exclusive patriots, who are so jealously was argued that, since George Washington was atdevoted to the aggrandizement and glorification of tached neither to Popery nor the feudal system, a our own dear country, that they insist upon the ne- Gothic monument was manifestly inappropriate. cessity incumbent upon all our artists of painting To make it of the classical architecture would be nothing but national subjects; otherwise, say they, equally bad; because the old Greeks and Romans the artists are false to the resources and reputation were Pagans, while George Washington was no of the land that gave them birth, and do not deserve pagan. They have accordingly, I believe, adopted the name of American. If landscape is the art- a design for that monument, which, as it resembles ist's choice, let him paint nothing but American sce- nothing else under the sun, they infer must be truly nery, especially views of such places as have wit-and purely and patriotically "National." nessed the triumphs of the American arms. If Now what is the foundation of all these propohistorical painting be the object of his devotion, let him illustrate only the great events of American History. There is a similar class among the literary men of our country, who are continually crying out for a "National Literature," as if a Na- be remembered that patriotism, like valor, gen Hence come we.' Martinsburg, Va., Sept. 1848. ON THE REQUISITES FOR THE FORMATION H. OF A NATIONAL SCHOOL OF HISTORICAL PAINTING. sitions? Is it patriotism? If so we should at least give them a respectful consideration, for true patriotism is a noble virtue, although it has a name But it must which is nearly worn threadbare. 728 On the Requisites for the Formation of a National School of Historical Painting. [DECEMBER erally lies dormant in the "piping times of peace," very improbable that he could learn any new lesand is developed only at epochs of national danger sons, at this late day, from the easel or the brush. or distress. Then, no people that have Anglo- But let us leave the speculative inquiry and conSaxon blood in their veins, will be found to lack it. sult the records of experience. Let us look at But gazing on patriotic pictures is by no means a those nations who have, in modern times, been fasure way to arouse patriotic emotions. I have mous for their schools of Historical Painting, and stood in the rotunda of the Capitol at Washington, see how far their success was founded on the prinlooking at some of Col. Trumbull's shirt-sleeve ciple of Nationality. To begin with Italy, the heroes of the Revolution, and have seen a man mother country of the arts in modern times; how come in, just fresh from the country, whose opin- many of her great paintings, those that have brought ion of his native land was great in strict proportion the rest of the world together to learn at her feet, with his ignorance of all others, and I have watched those that have covered the walls and the ceilings the effect produced upon him. His eyes shone of her churches, chapels and palaces with masterwhen I explained the picture to him; he asked ques-pieces of coloring and design, and elevated her tion after question, and finally, slapping his hand painters to the front rank, there to remain forever, vehemently upon his thigh, he almost shouted—the princes of their profession,-how many of these "Yes, them's the fellers that licked the British! I say, have been founded on the events of their naThem's the fellers for me!" It excited in him, to tional history? So few that their number is absoan intense degree, the passion of National vanity: lutely pitiful. The Bible has been the great source while in me, who love my native land, I believe, as whence her artists drew their inspiration, and next well as any man, the only feeling was that, as a to that the lives of the Saints. Then followed work of art, the picture was a poor concern, and classical subjects, which are incomparably more unworthy of the Capitol of a nation as great as numerous than those of national history. Even ours. National vanity is the root whence all these in landscape, the greatest number of celebrated silly projects of "nationality" arise, and their ad- pictures are not views of any particular spot favocates, who are chiefly to be noted for two things, mous from historical associations, but compositions, clamor and pertinacity, will almost invariably be whose sole interest is derived from their execution. found to be men who have great ambition with small In Spain the same rule will be found to hold good; ability, who have discovered that National vanity the number of national paintings being exceedingly is a strong and lusty beast of burden, which can few, while Religion again stands up as the fostercarry great freight, and which they are determined to ing parent of all that has formed the fame of the mount, in the vain hope that they may thus securely Spanish school. In Germany the principle only ride to the regions of renown ;-being instinctively finds a further confirmation. The grand produc conscious all the while, poor fellows!—and hence tions of the German school rest for the most part their desperate fire and fury,—that they have none of that peculiar innate vigor, by which great men march down to posterity on their own two legs, and without any beastly help whatever. on Religion, as do those of Italy and Spain; and but a small portion, and that mostly of very modern growth, is devoted to the maintenance of the National vain-glory. Nor is the Flemish school an Now the great object of Art is, not to pander to exception, although distinguished by a strong naNational vanity, but to encourage and develope in tionality. Its historical painters, like the others, man the sense of the beautiful, the good and the drew on Religion for the subjects of their great true, and by fit representations of them, to enchant pictures; while the large class of those who devohim with their love. It is intended to appeal to ted themselves to landscape, village and tavern the sympathies, the feelings, the principles, the be- scenes, rustic carousals, and all the varieties of lief, the hopes, the fears, the affections of man as still life, were strongly national. But how was man, and not as an American, or an Englishman, this nationality displayed? By a selection from or a Frenchman. The former will help the world the glorious events of their national history, so as to feel the great truth, that God hath made of one to tickle the national vanity, which is what our blood all the nations of the earth; while the other clamorous exclusives call "encouraging the patritends directly to perpetuate the abominable lie that otic feeling ?" Not in the least. They are nationone people are the "natural enemies" of another. al, because they express the character of the comBesides our nation needs no additional helps to Na- mon people of the country in their common every tional vanity. She has enough of them already of day affairs, for it is here that the peculiarities of all sorts and sizes, prices and qualities, from Trum- every nation are most strongly developed. But bull's pictures in the rotunda, down to Currier's lith- the subjects of this whole class of pictures have ographed daubs of Capt. May and the battle of no more connexion with Dutch patriotism, than the Buena Vista. Brother Jonathan was a smart boy, clay pipes of tavern smokers have with the death and taught himself the whole theory and practice of Count Egmont, or a pot-house card-party with of national bragging long before he left school; he the exploits of admiral Van Tromp. Of the same is so thorough in the science, moreover, that it is nature is nearly all the nationality of the English 729 1848.] On the Requisites for the Formation of a National School of Historical Painting. school, whose historical painters,-very few they United States." For Weir's represents a company are, by the way,-have not very largely illustrated of Englishmen, on board an English ship, in a the proud history of their native land. But France Dutch port, at a time when neither the vessel nor has a very different story to tell. She has con- any of her famous passengers had ever seen or set stantly acted on the principle that the great pur-foot in America. And Vanderlyn's is a Spanish pose to which the arts were meant to be applied and not an American picture, by the same rule; for is to foster, and intensify, and glorify the national all the persons represented are Spaniards, the scene vanity. For this purpose French art was first is in an island that never belonged to us and probaforced into a hot-bed existence by Louis XIV., an bly never will, and the great discoverer himself existence which was prolonged, with constantly never touched on any part of the coast of these increasing debility and impotence, under his suc- United States. So the best pictures in the Rocessors, until Napoleon arose to infuse into it a tunda are those that are not American. West was fresh but spasmodic vigor. Under the auspices of an American artist, and was the first to give Amerthe grand Emperor and the grand army, arose the ica a name for the arts, yet what national subject Napoleon gallery, the most monotonous collection, did he ever illustrate? Allston raised his country's to any but a Frenchman, that was ever perpetra fame still higher, and has also won an European ted under the pretence of the Nationality of Art. reputation as a historical painter. Yet he too The natural and inevitable result has followed. In was devoid of "patriotism." And among living spite of the vast collections of paintings and other historical painters of our country, some of whom works of art in the Tuilleries and the Louvre, in have risen, and several bid fair to rise to eminence, spite of the lavish support of the government, in what nationality has been displayed? To illustrate spite of the establishment of Academies of design, by a case in point, so as to ascertain what is the and of every effort to create a school of art which true value of this nationality in art, take the case should be a glory to the nation,-efforts far greater of Powers. His statue of the Greek Slave has than have been made in any other country of Chris- established his reputation in Europe, and placed an tendom,―the race of French painters has always American on a par with the highest living sculpbeen weak, miserable, paltry, empty and contempt-tors; and his statue of the boy holding a shell to ible. Religion and all the deeper and holier feelings of man, as man, were excluded, as forming no part of the nationality of Art. Man was not regarded, except in so far as he was a Frenchman. French painters did not paint, because they were, in their hearts, enthusiasts for the art divine, and could not live and breathe without it: they did not picture on canvass the glorious visions of beauty that are wont to haunt the imaginations of those who are enamored of the silent mistress of their souls; but they were painters because they had been brought up in the government schools, and they painted this or that picture because they had received government orders to illustrate such and But what are the contracted limits to which such an event of national glory. The consequence these men, of one idea, (and that one both little is, that there is hardly a town or even village of de- and false,) would confine the aspiring though youthcent size to be found in Italy, which, in the amount ful energies of American art? There are, first of of works of true art which it has produced, cannot all, the Red men-very interesting characters, no outweigh the whole of France with all its nationali- doubt, in Mr. Cooper's Novels, or Mr. Catlin's Inty to boot. And yet this is the point to which our dian gallery, of which the latter is worth infinitely ignorant, conceited and loud-mouthed quidnuncs more than the former, because it is "founded on would degrade American art-if they could! his ear has only increased his fame. Now would the glory to our nation have been any the greater if the Greek Slave, instead of a Greek, had been made a lovely young Choctaw squaw, or the boy with the shell had been modelled from a little responsibility among the Sacs and Foxes? And to fortify our position by but one case from among our literary men; what writer has done more to raise our character abroad than Prescott, a man acknowledged by all European critics to be second to no living historian, if he be not himself the first. And yet he has written only Spanish, Mexican and Peruvian history-not one word of American. fact." But it is hard to make much, in the way of And if foreign examples are not enough, let us art, of a "brave" who chooses to adorn himself, like look at the brief history of American art thus far, a bantam cock, with feathers down to his heels. A and see what the National principle has done for tawny chief may be made to look very sentimental us. The great "National" pictures are in the Ro- on canvass, indeed, if you imagine him arrived, totunda at Washington. Of these, Trumbull's are wards the hour of a cloudy sunset, at the jumpingvaluable only for their portraits. Chapman's Bap-off place on the borders of the Pacific ocean and tism of Pocahontas is a decided failure. Weir's fancy him ready to take the leap. Something may and Vanderlyn's are the best of the seven, but be made out of a council-fire, and something out of strictly speaking they do not illustrate subjects of a pipe of peace; though a tomahawk is decidedly American history at all, if by "American" we are too bloodthirsty to be artistical. But is the nato understand, as we suppose," belonging to these 'tional artist to be bound up to an eternal round of VOL. XIV-92 |