one leading the utilities, the other leading the graces of society, - both rest upon the sure principles of exact science, and both combine to prepare the great future of humanity. The Lord of the Ages who sent forth Newton to record the harmonies of the heavens in the mathematics of the "Principia," sent forth Haydn to sing those harmonies in the music of the "Creation." The same year that called the mathematician, La Place, to the world beyond the measure of his geometry, summoned Beethoven to the glories which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard. He who is Infinite Loveliness and Almighty Power has in store for humanity a new day of reconciliation between the spirit of beauty and of strength. When the morning stars sang together, their song was the music of those sublime forces in measured march, and the calculus and the psalter are but partial versions of that song. The calculus and the psalter, in all their endless applications, are to lead mankind to a deeper study of the divine order, and to subdue earth's discord to heaven's blessed harmony.

ART. VII.-Art-Hints. Architecture, Sculpture, and Painting. By JAMES JACKSON JARVES, Author of “History of the Sandwich Islands," "Parisian Sights and French Principles," Member of the American Oriental Society, etc., etc. New York: Harper and Brothers. 1855.

PAINTING and Sculpture, Eloquence and Poetry, Music and the higher forms of Architecture, in all ages, may be reckoned among the most wonderful and uplifting of all the manifestations permitted on earth to the sons of men. Appealing to the senses, and not to the reason, they are felt where they are not understood. Being all children of one parentage, their relationship to a common Father is acknowledged by the great multitude. Even the rudest of our race delight in "barbaric pearl and gold," in the "barbarian gong" and the clattering war-drum; and all mankind are, by nature, judges of painting and sculpture, of eloquence and music,

such as they are, without understanding, or desiring to understand, the grounds of their judgment. It is enough for them that they feel, as in lifting the eye to the midnight firmament, or listening to the far-off, weltering anthem of the sea, or wondering at the beauty of woman, or the strength of man, they do not care to understand. But the mathematician, the statesman, the lawgiver, the logician, the mechanic, what have they to do with feeling? And what have the multitude to do with them? Great reasoners are to be understood only by the few; and, if not understood, are overlooked or forgotten. They are to be judged only by their peers; and the people, knowing this, hold themselves aloof. Hence the worth of all manifestations, for whatsoever purpose, which appeal not so much to the understanding as to the senses of the many, over those that "play round the head, but never touch the heart."

If the people are ever carried away,—if they are ever “in the spirit," whether in the contemplation of God's handiwork above them, or about, or within them, or in the changes they behold among the constellations and the seas, or the mountains and kingdoms of earth, if their hearts ever overflow with a deep and solemn thankfulness, while they muse upon the past and the future, upon their lineage and their heritage, then are they qualified, even the lowliest among them, if not by training or experience, at least by nature, which is far better, to enjoy and to feel the power of painting and sculpture, though eloquence, poetry, architecture, and music might be well-nigh lost upon them, for lack of preparation; since these have more to do with the understanding, and sooner throw off the simple-hearted, straightforward, unpretending earnestness of which all mankind are judges.

That our people are beginning to open their eyes, and look about them and judge for themselves, without the help of the newspapers, and to feel something of that generous warmth and hopefulness which betoken a new life,—the unquenchable aspirations and larger purposes of a troubled spirit, just learning to understand itself, to look inwardly, and to question its hidden impulses aright, — is undeniable. The proof may be found in this very book, and in others which have

lately come under our cognizance. Prepared by Americans, and meant for the people of America, they may well be regarded as the testimony of sagacious and thoughtful men to this very point. Fifteen years ago, such books would not have paid for the printing. Now they are eagerly sought for, both abroad and at home, and must sooner or later become popular. And what is even yet more encouraging, our very newspapers are busying themselves, and warming up their millions of readers, by republishing portions of Ruskin, and Wallace, and opening their columns to well-written communications from our countrymen abroad, Akers and Page, and Tilten (through Mr. Jarves), upon much that concerns the higher revelations of art.

But if the people are not altogether so much in earnest, or so enlightened, as we might wish,- are they to be given up? If they do not move aright, when they are first breathed upon, are we to go by on the other side, abandon all hope, and suffer them to settle down for ever to the business of money-getting, or castle-building? If their hearts do not always burn within them, they do sometimes, as they talk together by the way, along the dusty and crowded thoroughfares of the world, which they do not so much live in as inhabit. And, after all, is it not something for them to know that they have hearts, even though they may not always know what they are good for? and that the uneasiness they sometimes feel in the neighborhood of their jewels and brooches, when they are in the presence of a great picture, discoursing to them in a universal, though silent language, day after day, is not only safe, but wholesome, and worth encouraging, as the sign of inward and growing life, portentous and solemn as death if unheeded, but full of consolation if devoutly cherished?

That thousands and tens of thousands about us are dead asleep, with no wish for a change, may be admitted. But their case is not altogether hopeless; for they are still breathing, and may yet be awakened to that newness of life which leads to a just and happy estimate of the things that perish. As all these are God's doings, and therefore God's blessings, it may be no safer, and no wiser, to undervalue

them than to overvalue them. If we are to live in the midst of singing birds and flowers, waterfalls and tinted shells, glorious, ever-changing skies, and "winged jewelry," are we, not bound by our allegiance to look after them, and to enjoy them, so far as we may, with all thankfulness, just as we are bound to reverence God's greatest work, perhaps - ourselves?

That God reverences man, who will deny? That he loves man, we know; that while he has created him but "a little lower than the angels," he has made him "to judge the angels," we are distinctly told. That he deals with men, everywhere and at all times, not only as individualities, but, under some aspects, as independent sovereignties,— and with mankind at large, as a congress of nations, withholding his power, and forbearing to trench upon their acknowledged prerogatives, will not be readily questioned. And if man would but take the trouble to understand what he was made for, he would reverence himself, and learn to worship God aright, with all his powers and all his affections, and not, as now, with a dwarfed and shrivelled portion of both. And to this, if we may judge by the signs about us, of which this book is one, the people are coming. Should the deep religious warmth to be found in all the writings of Ruskin, where he deals with Art as if he had been studying her mysteries among the shadows of another world and in a holier atmosphere, become contagious, or even fashionable, as it promises to be, great things may certainly be accomplished. The movement begun over sea will be propagated here with ever-growing earnestness and comprehensiveness. What he is doing for England, the author of these Art-Hints, following out the suggestions perhaps of Tilten and Page, is now doing for this country. We need thoughtfulness, -a habit of looking for the hidden power and mysterious sig nificance of a fine picture which may outlast empires.

"Art, born in freedom," says our author, "was true to its mission so long as man worshipped in sincerity and truth. Made, however, the handmaid of Sense, it revenged its degradation, by enslaving its enslavers, and by becoming the instrument of tyranny to steel the spirit into the doctrine of passive obedience. The social and political institutions

were neglected, for the excitements of sensuality and amusement. Education, freedom of mind, and individual enterprise- the substantial bases of a nation's prosperity-were lost sight of, or cunningly diverted by tyrants into corrupt channels, so that with all those races history shows the same final result. First, a development of energy and virtue; second, refinement and power; then speedy enervation, and consequent decay, until ignorance, superstition, and poverty have come at last to be the established order of things over the fairest portions of the globe."— p. 8.

In other words, the history of Art is the history of nations. "The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be." First, a rude heroic energy; then wealth, luxury, and refinement, where the difficult is substituted for the beautiful and just; and then corruption. What Persia was to Sparta, the gold of the Great King to the iron coinage of that iron commonwealth,—what the silken robe and perfumed locks were to Alcibiades, after he had grown weary of the black broth, commerce and conquest, merchant princes and overflowing wealth, are to the sturdier and homelier household virtues of sincerity and manliness, which characterize all great nations in the day of their strength; and so will they continue to be, till man has learned to reverence himself, least the image of God, or what there is left of it, within himself, by rightly employing all the talents intrusted to his high stewardship, and preparing betimes for rendering up an account of that stewardship. The history of art is indeed but the history of man himself, "the desolator desolate;

the victor overthrown."

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But is there no hope? Must what has been, still be for ever? Or may not a timely and serious warning prepare even the people of our day for a worthier understanding of what they owe to themselves and to their children's children? Must corruption always tread so fast upon the heels of refining development? Or may it not be possible so to school ourselves, and our children, as rightly to enjoy all our gifts and blessings? Our author is quite persuaded that a new era is opening upon man, through the world of art; and that, if there be a looking "toward the hills whence our strength cometh," we shall not look in vain. But we must allow him to speak for himself.