exercised by the same artist. We see the grand results which this combination produced in the time of Phidias, and in the golden age of the fine arts in Italy; but I am not surprised that prejudiced persons should affirm that gothic architecture tended to corrupt sculpture in its connection with that art. Grotesque images, it is true, frequently form the ornaments of Christian churches. Few of these accessories would be worthy to be brought in contact with the entablature and metopes of the Parthenon; but it is a mistake to suppose that gothic niches and frizes are ill suited to the introduction of correctly executed statues. Michael Angelo's Moses, Conston's St. Denis, and Girardon's Mater Dolorosa and Eight Apostles, are perfectly well adapted to the niches of our chapels and churches. Let our sculptors endeavour to imitate the models of antiquity, but in so doing they must endeavour to lose sight of national traditions respecting costume, so as to avoid falling into absurd anomalies and anachronisms in their images and emblematic representations. The early ages of christianity gave birth to singular productions of this kind, when pious chroniclers seemed anxious to preach the gospel in the very heaven of paganism. Venus then became St. Venus, and her son, undergoing a metamorphosis which Ovid never dreamed of, mounted the pulpit and preached under the title of the Curate Cupid. But do the classic sculptors of this enlightened age evince any better taste when Neptune is made to weep over the

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cenotaph of a christian admiral? Of all the fine arts, sculpture comes most home to the feelings and tastes of the mass of mankind, and therefore artists should as much as possible avoid allegories foreign to the manners, usages, and worship of the nation to which their works are particularly addressed. It is related that on seeing Nelson's monument at Guildhall, a child who had formed a grand idea of the conqueror of the Nile, enquired, pointing to the statue of Neptune, whether that was the figure of the celebrated Admiral, never supposing that the hero's bust occupied only a secondary place in a medallion on the mausoleum. This very natural incident was not, it is said, lost upon Chantry, who happened to be present, and whose genius has not sacrificed to the false gods.

The earliest productions of English sculpture are to be found on funeral monuments; but the warriors kneeling in cloisters, and the holy prelates in the attitude of benediction or prayer, are merely specimens of the somewhat monotonous invention of the monkish artists. Works of a superior kind were however produced by a Frenchman named Hubert Le Sueur, who was the pupil of Jean de Boulogne, and by an Italian named Francesco Fanelli, who lived in the reign of Charles I. That prince lent a ready ear to the opinions and suggestions of Lord Arundel, the enlightened friend of art. The reign of Charles II. produced Gibbons, who was particu

larly celebrated for carving in wood, and Cibber, who sculptured the two famous figures of madness which stand in the hall of Bedlam Hospital, and whose truth to nature is so truly horrible, that curtains are drawn before them.

In the reign of King William, John Bushnell was much admired. He executed the statues of the two Charleses at the Exchange, and the two Kings at Temple-bar. Bushnell's conceptions were rather whimsical than happy, and he appears to have been constantly striving to accomplish wonders. For his posthumous fame, he is chiefly indebted to his attempt at realizing the famous Trojan horse. The head alone of Bushnell's horse was capable of containing ten or twelve men seated at table. This stupendous work was destroyed in a hurricane. Had Bushnell lived in our time, he would have been worthy to finish the famous elephant of the Faubourg Saint Antoine.

In the reign of George II. France and Flanders furnished England with two distinguished sculptors, namely, Roubillac of Lyons, and Rysbrac of Antwerp. Roubillac, who was a pupil of Coustou, possessed more imagination and elegance than his Flemish rival; but the chisel of the latter was remarkable for decision and energy. In the execution of his Hercules, Rysbrac copied the athletic forms of famous English boxers, as the Greek sculptors studied the figures and attitudes of the candidates in the olympic games;

but apparently none of the pugilistic heroes of the time could furnish Rysbrac with the model for the head of a god, since he was reduced to the necessity of copying that of the FarneseHercules. Roubillac has imparted classic grace to his statue of eloquence; but in his endeavour to confer elegance on Sir Isaac Newton, he has almost given the philosopher the air of a coxcomb.

Scheemaker and Wilton, who were contemporary with several artists still living, materially contributed to the progress of sculpture. Probably in an age and country, in which a great monarch and a great people would have employed these two artists in the execution of national monuments, they might have prepared England for the just appreciation of the relics of ancient Greece. But Scheemaker and Wilton, like their predecessors and immediate successors, laboured only for the limited sphere of private vanity, and frequently disgraced their talent by the execution of the absurd emblems and allegories prescribed by their patrons. This reproach may also be addressed to Bacon, Banks, and Nollekins, and in some instances to Flaxman and Westmacott. But I must devote one or two letters exclusively to the living artists of England.

readily accepted his offer to accompany me to see the painting and sculpture at Somerset House. I had already paid a visit to the exhibition, but I nevertheless gladly availed myself of the oppor tunity of hearing the criticisms of a gentleman who is intimate with the principal litterati and artists of Edinburgh and London, and who I suspect is a contributor to one of the principal reviews.

Having paid our shilling at the door, and purchased the catalogue, which contains a list of the pictures and statues exhibited, together with the names of the artists, we first entered the sculpture room, which is on the ground floor. Sir William pointed out to me a groupe representing the archangel Michael overcoming Satan. “This," said he, "is the production of Flaxman, our professor of sculpture." I could not help remarking, "that I hoped for the honour of Flaxman, both as an artist and professor, that he was capable of presenting something better to the students of the Academy, for I could perceive no traces of a