read them, reminding me of an Englishman employed to explore a coal mine in the County of Cork, who, in answer to an enquiry into the quality of the coal he had discovered, answered, it was excellent in every respectbut that it did not burn.

But, if it may be permitted to me, an humble mechanic of the nine-to hope that my weak efforts may contribute to promote the cause of education and the literary acquirements of my countrymen, and of the world in general-I beg, through the medium of this widely circulating Magazine, to submit to the reading part of the community my newly invented

Micromegas, or Reading made Easy.

An optical instrument in the nature of a magic lanthorn, by the aid of which, the smallest of the Diamond editions becomes visible to the weakest sight. It is a small box, so contrived, that the book being placed in the interior of the machine, within the action of a small toothed wheel, moved by a handle on the outside which turns the leaves, a set of lenses of different magnifying powers, with corresponding mirror, reflect the page on a large sheet of paper placed on a reading desk, in any size the student wishes, from 150mo. to elephant folio. It acts equally well by the solar light, as by the flame of a lamp-so that I entertain very sanguine expectations that it will come into general use.

How incalculable are the advantages likely to result from this invention! What a voluminous Library may now be packed up in a cloak-bag-The Divine can never be at a loss for a Sermon at a pinch, and may engage in a theological discussion, fearless of those weighty arguments which, as Ariosto informs us, such disputants were accustomed to hurl at each others heads

E di veder diletto si prendea

Volar pe' capi a frati i breviali.

The Physician called to a country town on a consultation, can stow the united wisdom of his predecessors and cotemporaries from Avicenna to the present day in his portmanteau. The Poet may again store the Iliad in a nutshell, and the Lawyer pack up in his surtout pocket, a complete set of the statutes at large, weighing a few ounces!

WOMAN CAN LOVE BUT ONCE.

Soft delicate and true, the female heart,
Once and once only feels love's potent pain
Pervading all, and with too dangerous art
Encircling reason in a spell-wrought chain.

Its modest beauties to the light of day,
Once and once only thus the lily rears,—
Its blossom severed-tho' the genial ray
Be doubly warm, no second flower it bears.

STANZAS.

Oh! why should we, mortal beings, dread that night-prison-the Grave.

Blackwood's Mag. Nov. 1826.

The grave-the hallow'd grave, why should I dread

To sleep beneath the grassy awning spread
Along the place of silence?-O'er thy ground
The war of earth unheeded waves around;-
The storm that bids the billowy passions rise
And lash their sinful wrath against the skies,
Still rings its triumph over virtue's bier.-
Silence and peace alone are dwellers here!

Awake-arise--rejoice, my sunny soul,

Tho' billows rave and thunders round thee roll,

Look out along the desolating wave!

Which dost thou dread, the tempest or the grave?
Alas-alas! the happy are the young,

Who, ere their canvas to its breath was flung,

Sank to the grave, unstained by toil or tear.

Silence and peace alone are dwellers there!

And thou, thank Heaven! my weary spirit, thou
Art near the goal of all thy wanderings now,-
Dark years have faded, and at length that star
With beam of love is wooing thee afar;

And the fair spring-like grave hath greenly spread

Its dew-gemm'd curtain to o'erarch my head,
While round my sleep the sweetest flowers shall wave.
Then canst thou dread the calm-the hallow'd grave?

J. A. S.

IRISH ART AND ARTISTS.

CURSORY REMARKS ON THE FINE ARTS IN CORK, AND ON NATIVE ARTISTS, DECEASED.

In a country like ours, distinguished as it is by warmth of imagination, and lively feelings,-gifts, when refined by education, the best fitted for the cultivation of the Fine Arts,-we might naturally expect to find them flourishing. But we are disappointed;-theories and facts are at variance, and effects do not uniformly follow their causes. When instances of genius have appeared, the necessary aids of wealth and leisure which they require to bring them to perfection, have not been at hand to foster and employ them; or the most brilliant talents may have existed but to little purpose, in times perhaps of trouble or of public apathy, and remained unnoticed. In this, our day, so eminent for the application of science to the common purposes of life, the pretensions of the Fine Arts may be totally disregarded as useless; and the indignant votary of the Arts proud of his birthright, and ancient rank with bards and philosophers, sinks in the blaze of modern discoveries. Thus numerous counteracting circumstances may oppose the fulfilment of our expectations founded on our national character.

We would not be unjust to any class of men in attributing some share of blame to the method adopted by teachers, who do little to promote by instructions, a taste for higher works of Art than their own. Their rank may be far below their individual merits, and any observations of ours, are only made to rouse their attention to the importance of the situation they fill. As the Art is taught, so will it be appreciated, and too seldom is the pupil's admiration directed to works where imitation is made subservient to the creations of genius. It should be their aim to shew the Fine Arts to be a generous and elevated study, which they cannot have the hardihood to affirm, nor the power of proving, unless by an appeal to that commanding excellence which reigns through the great works of past ages, and is often to be found in those of the present. They should strive to draw public attention, if possible, from that spurious merit with high pretensions and meretricious graces, too seductive often in its effects, blunting that fine perception of excellence that requires purity to relish or perceive it, and laying the foundation of a depraved taste. Without a vain glorious boast, it may be shown that the Arts have raised, in their masterpieces, a standard, by which even the works of nature herself are judged;—that good feeling and fine taste, those amenities of our nature, have a genial influence upon us, and find their corresponding seats in the heart. Since the Arts do not depend on perpetual sunshine and cloudless skies, for their cultivation, but on the direction given the mind by the influence of Nature or Art on deep feeling, and quick sensibilities-the early bias given by teachers is lost or unfelt in after life, because not directed to its proper end in awakening either a love of Art, or a sympathy with nature; and in this respect, we are more indebted to the raptures of the poet, than the labours of the painter.

But we shall not dwell on this conjecture, perhaps erroneous, into which we were led by knowing the influence that certain teachers have had on the Bristol public, where the most choice annual exhibition in England is established-where the greatest number of clever Artists is produced-and where the only society exists, that would purchase that beautiful modern English work of sculpture,-Bailly's Eve.

There are opinions, indeed they are more than opinions, for they become the basis of habits of thinking, acquired by travellers on the Continent,which are most unfavourable to modern Art. Abroad, where the Arts are of more consequence than at home, and are more spoken of, and written on; there, many a novice is, for the first time, initiated into their mysteries. Despite of Nature, and by force of fashion, he gets a taste which is shown only in his fondness for old pictures. This taste becomes as strong as a religious or political prejudice, and is guarded with as much zeal as either; being always strong in the same proportion as it is contracted in its nature. It would be hopeless to combat such opinions, by pointing out the value and excellence of modern Art, and we forego the task.

It is a cheering reflection to Artists, however, to think that there is a change taking place in favour of modern Art; and strong as the Press has been in their favour, they themselves are bringing it about by the exertion of their talents and the beauty of their works. Foreign intercourse, which has served to break down national prejudice against modern music, but slowly and lately introduced into these kingdoms, would, we believe depress modern Painting, had we not Artists of eminence in the country, whose works counteract this effect. The change in modern Painting, like that in modern Music, requires a change of taste to appreciate its value; and to account for the slowness with which Painting has advanced, we must consider, in contrast, the growing acquaintance with ancient works on the Continent, as opposed to the novelty and variety, the copious and rich store of originality daily introduced into the Arts by the Painters of the present day-who, in cultivating a nearer acquaintance with Nature, are the farther removed from the factitious admirers of the old masters. That this partiality, which we attribute to a better acquaintance with the ancients than with the moderns, is giving way, we need only appeal to the effects produced by the exhibitions of select works from the moderns, which have raised their value at home, and created a demand for them abroad. may be accounted as complete a triumph as the nation could so soon expect, and ought to silence the contemptuous coxcombry of those continental tourists who talk of high Art and high taste, while their judgment is in rebellion against both.

This

So long as we were the importers of foreign Music, and foreign Painting our pride or our obstinacy never allowed us to engraft these upon any wild shoots that reared their heads in negligence and obscurity at home.-Our Poetry, which at least was aboriginal, in the course of time grew French, and became fantastical: for France gave the example, pertinaciously followed by all Europe,-cut the fashion of our coats, our manners and our morals,-until her revolution and restrictive acts induced us to look into our own resources. Then we cultivated English Poetry, English Music, and English Painting, while we have not advanced equally in each of these. Our tastes must still retain a strong foreign tendency, nor have we acquired confidence enough to encourage so new a thing as

English Art, with all its peculiarities, so much at variance with preconceived notions on the subject. However, when the French have adopted it, as they already are doing, in Engraving, and Landscape, and Dramatic Painting, the English will be more reconciled to it, and learn to prize what is their own, having found it abroad.

Yet by those who have seen the great works of the old masters, should they retain any of that elevated feeling their grandeur must always inspire, it will be deemed an intrusion to break in upon those lofty notions of the Art, with the humble pretensions of a few Artists, in a provincial city like this. It is to be lamented that in the ranks of those who disregard the Arts altogether, such persons may be found, and will be ready to smile, perhaps with them, at the importance of the title we have ventured to give this notice of native Artists, and a few of their works. We may remind those who think meanly of our aim at acquiring a share in the rising character of English Art,—that an attempt made to illustrate the Fine Arts of Great Britain, but a few years back, would have been equally ridiculed; when our city gave birth to one of those able men who assisted in raising the nation from the reproach and contempt which our previous neglect of the Fine Arts drew upon us.

When we put forward names such as BUTTS, GROGAN, BARRY, and others, a stranger may naturally conclude the Arts are highly patronized here; but whether Painting is indigenous, or, through the capricious bounty of nature, has only thrown from her lap a few rare and excellent proofs of the richness of her stores, to induce us to cultivate them, we cannot stop to inquire-but certain it is, we have disregarded her favours. Scarcely a county in Ireland but may boast of some distinguished Artist. Dublin, Clare, Waterford, Meath, and Kilkenny, may claim Shee, Mulready, Roberts, Cregan, and Danby. Yet Cork can challenge even the metropolis itself, in point of worth, and almost numbers. This native taste in the Arts cannot be attributed to the patronage afforded to our Artists. Were we to attempt to find their works, we must seek them in nooks and corners, or, perhaps the dark remnant of them, we should observe placed nobly, but hanging in shreds, floating, like cathedral banners, in damp and cobwebs, and disregarded glory,-meet semblance of their fate, whose once they were, their trophy and their epitaph. The Artists may have won a little fame, suffered much in the struggle to obtain it, then died,—only degraded by poverty, and without other recompense than placing their insignia on the walls. Many of the calamities of genius may originate in imprudence; but neglect often, too often, overloads the visitations of poverty by which it is assailed. Then how ill we deserve any reputation for taste in the Arts, who neither cherish in life or in death those whose merit has lent a partial renown to our city. Thanks to strangers who have saved from oblivion, one name at least,—that of Barry, for while the sublime dome of St. Paul's towers above his remains, we shall not forget he rests with the great lights of the age in which he lived.

As for Butts, Grogan, and others—

No palms eternal flourish round their urn,

To mark their graves, and point us where to mourn;
Obscure the spot, and uninscribed the stone;

Leave their neglect and worth alike unknown,