combined with harmony,) shall be deemed worthy to share the high regard of their fellow citizens with the warrior who sheds his blood, and the statesman who devotes his far-sighted wisdom for their country's welfare. He, who preserves and blesses his country in peace, is certainly equal to him who fights for it in war; and he, who inspires or increases a reverence for laws, to him who writes and prescribes them.

There is very great reason to believe in the future success of Art among us. Our people, when excited in any pursuit, allow no limits to their enthusiasm, and have shown themselves inferior to none in variety of genius and courage of enterprise. Hitherto their attention has been compelled to engagements of more immediate usefulness, by the necessities of our new confederacy and numerous state governments, the rush of our increasing population, the wealth hidden beneath our original forests, the facility afforded to manufactures by the rapid descent of many a broad stream, the desire of bringing distant points nearer together, and of interlacing our interests by rail-roads and canals, and the agitation of many questions in finance and political morals, which have never arisen elsewhere, but must be decided by us. Yet how great have been the honours already attained, I had well nigh said compelled, from the world? The name which, by the unanimous suffrage of mankind, stands highest on the roll of uninspired humanity, is that of Washington. He who, since the day of Newton, has given the strongest impulse to the application of physical science, made his bold experiments on the lightning of heaven from the plains near our own city, and sleeps beneath his modest tomb in a corner of Christ Church burial-ground; whither the stranger from every land, and the dweller in his own, turn their pilgrim feet to do honour to the memory of the Yankee adventurer, the apprentice printer, the poor man's honest counsellor, the Philadelphia editor, the American statesman, the baffler of European diplomacy, and the philosopher who taught the world. The authority of Marshall and Kent receives reverence from every great and just tribunal. Improvements in jurisprudence made among us, and especially within our own state, have been the basis (unacknowledged but not the less real) of extensive judicial reforms in that very country which claims to have taught us all we know.* The name of Irving is already coupled with that of Addison; and in a single day, as it were, Prescott has risen to take his place with Gibbon and Hume, while, for truth of narrative and benevolence of feeling, he is above them both. The genius of Bowditch burns brightly near the compass and the quadrant of almost every bark that tempts the trackless ocean. The mighty energies of steam, first successfully applied

* Appendix (B.)

C

to navigation by our own Fulton, now speeds the flying car over the rail-ways of Europe, controlled and directed by the superior ingenuity of American skill. The exquisite invention of Daguerre, recent as it is, shall soon be returned to him from this western world, stripped of half its mechanical arrangements, and capable of a more ready and useful adaptation. These instances, snatched at random from a multitude, prove that there is among our people a boldness and originality of invention, which cannot fail to secure great success in the liberal arts, when more favourable circumstances demand their more zealous cultivation. Even now the catalogue of American Artists must be regarded with great respect when we read upon it such names as those of President West, Copely, Stuart, Allston, Newton, Harding, Cole, Greenough, Inman, and others,* of whose talents my inferior knowledge will not permit me to pronounce an opinion, or whose modest worth I must not cause to blush, even by just praise, when I see them pre

sent.

The Arts, indeed, have made surprising progress in the United States, when we consider the temptations which opportunities of wealth and political distinction offer to men of genius, and the poverty of reward, whether of honour or gain, which our countrymen have had the leisure or means to bestow

upon them. In none, perhaps, is this more apparent, than in the noble and useful art of architecture. Mr. Verplanck, in his admirable discourse before the New York Academy, at the opening of their exhibition in 1824, quotes the strong language of Mr. Jefferson, that "the genius of architecture seems to have shed its malediction over this land;" and the accomplished friend of Art, confirms the sentence. But since that address was delivered, a change has passed over us, and the power of the curse has been greatly diminished. The simple grandeur of the Doric, the feminine dignity of the Ionic, and the leafy grace of the Corinthian, as they have been presented to us by the labours of those of our countrymen, who have gone back through ages of barbarism to find masters in the Grecian schools, have already done much to win us from our childish fondness for modern frippery. A few noble buildings (especially I may say, some which adorn our own city and its neighbourhood,) have given a widespread influence to a better taste, and the ruling desire is now evidently for the pure, rather than the showy. It is true that our means or our spirit have not as yet warranted the erection of many massive structures, but we begin to see on every hand the well proportioned pediment, the harmonious façade, and interiors studiously correspondent to the external style. Perhaps our imitation of ancient models has been even too strict. There must be, in the end,

laadke My de shelterfly a die in the seeks to options પતાની

more adaptation to our climate and peculiar circumstances. If we are obliged to make Egyptian buildings several stories high, we certainly are not obliged to confine the ornaments to the eternal scarabæus, a most unseemly emblem of a false mythology; nor in copying the lines of a Grecian temple for a Christian church, need we insist upon retaining the attributes of the heathen god. The ancients were never guilty of such mistakes. There was an intellectuality in their architecture, which always expressed the purpose of an edifice, not only in its general structure, but in the most minute decoration. They never built a temple of Plutus in the noble style which enshrined the Olympian Jove, or a shrine of the virgin Minerva in all the florid luxuriance which the Corinthian goddess loved so well. The vinewreaths of Bacchus were never seen on the gates of Diana, nor the peacock of Juno, where the doves and sparrows of Venus should have sported. But such incongruities (in remarking upon which I may seem hypercritical,) will soon be avoided. Nice imitation of faultless models is the best study for our infant architecture. After the mind is filled with pure ideas, and the taste refined by conversation with perfect forms, we shall be better prepared to combine, adapt and invent.

The Gothic order, that wonderful combination of solemn grandeur with luxuriant tracery, which