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descends to dust.' The grave ! let us break its awful spell, its dread dominion. It is the place where mau lays down his weakness, his infirmity, his diseases and sorrows, that he may rise up to a new and glorious life. It is the place where man ceases — in all that is frail and decaying to be man, that he may become, io glory and blessedness, an angel of light!
• Why, theu, should we fear death, save as the wicked fear, and must fear it? Why dread to lay dowu this frail body in its resting-place, and this weary, aching head on the pillow of its repose? Why tremble at this -- that in the long sleep of the tomb, that body shall suffer disease no more, and pain no more, and hear no more the cries of want nor the groans of distress — and, far retired from the turmoil of life, that violence and change shall pass lightly over it, and the elements shall beat and the storms shall howl upbeard around its lowly bed? Say, ye aged and infirm! is it the greatest of evils to die? Say, ye children of care and toil! say, ye afflicted and tempted ! is it the greatest of evils to die?
Oh, no! Come the last hour, in God's own time! - and a good life and a glorious hope shall make it welcome. Come the hour of release! - and affliction shall make it welcome. Come the hour of rëunion with the loved and lost on earth! – and the passionate yearnings of affection, and the strong aspirations of faith, shall bear us to their blessed land. Come death to this body! - this burdened, tempted, frail, failing, dying, body!- and to the soul thanks be to God who giveth us the victory! - to the soul come freedom, light, and joy unceasing ! Come the immortal life! He that liveth' - saith the Conqueror over death he that liveth and believeth in me, shall NEVER DIE!''
How do the skeptic doubts, and the thoughts of annihilation, which at times mingle with our apprehensions of death, melt away before such sublime views of mortality as these! Shall man alone utterly cease to be, while in the 'great circle of eternal change, which is the life of Nature,' nothing is that wholly dies! The drop,' says that thoughtful observer, Carlyle, 'which thou shakest from thy wet hand, rests not where it falls, but to-morrow thou findest it swept away. Already, on the wings of the north wind, it is nearing the tropic of Cancer. How came it to evaporate, and not lie motionless ? Thinkest thou there is aught that God hath made, that is motionless, without force, and utterly dead ? : We have trespassed largely, though unwittingly, upon our space; but let us hope, in a less degree upon the reader's patience.
"OTSEGO HALL' AND 'WOLFERT's Roost. — Mr. L. P. Clover, Broadway, has published two large and beautiful colored engravings of 'Otsego Hall,' the residence of J. FENIMORE Cooper, Esq., and 'Wolfert's Roost,' the seat of WASHINGTON IRVING, Esq. The first presents a view of an imposing edifice, with high and spacious windows, heavy ornamental cornices and battlements, and low towers at the entrances. The verdant foreground has an appearance of velvet softness, characteristic of English rolled grass, and is relieved by two Indian figures, in costume, and slight shrubbery. Close in the rear, is a handsome park, where
'flowers and trees Seem bending to the whispering breeze.'
The view of 'Wolfert's Roost' is from a painting by Mr. George Harvey, the distinguished landscape and miniature painter, who designed and superintended its renovation from the old Van Tassel mansion. The picture of the 'Roost' itself, all made up of gable-ends, like an old-fashioned cooked hat,' is perfect : the various ornamental trees, shrubbery, and flowers, however, which now surround it, are scantly represented in the engraving. The wide reach of the Tappaan Zee, also, and the bold, picturesque character of the opposite shore, strike us as not given with sufficient distinctness. Yet it is a beautiful and mainly faithful print. With the remembered lapse of gentle wavelets on the pebbly beach, at the edge of the river fore-ground, and the murmur of the cascades of the Pocantico falling in fancy on the ear :
• A noise as of a hidden brook,
In tbe leafy month of June,
Singeth its quiet tune;'
the illusion, as we look upon Mr. Clover's excellent engraving, is wonderfully complete.
NATIONAL ACADEMY OF Design – The walls of the Academy, in the present exhibition, although bung with many works by native artists, present in reality but few that are above medio Crity. Those which strike us as possensing very decided merit, we shall aim to votice at as mueb length as our leisure and space will adinit. Following them, then, in the order in which they are arraoged in the Catalogue, the first work that impressed us as exhibiting inore than ordinary merits in that class of paintings, is
Number 49. View in the White Mountains. By T. Cole. This is truly an American picture. The boldness of the scenery itself, the antumnal tiots which are spread over the forest, and the wild appearance of the heavens, give it a character and stamp that we never see ia the works of foreign schools; and we pronounce the artist a master, without a rival among his own countrymen.
NUMBER 52. Portrait of NICHOLAS BIDDLE. H. INMAN. Certainly one of the best and most carefully.fiuished heads Mr. Inman has painted: there is, withal, a character in it, which we too rarely observe among our portrait painters. If we have any objection, it is to its monotony in color, which is perhaps too generally of a snuffy appearance, in flesh, drapery, and back-ground.
NUMBER 58. The Whistle. W. Page. Exhibits remarkable beauties and as remarkable faults. The male figure leaning forward, would do credit to any master : the female and child, although carefully painted, lack grace, delicacy, and refinement. The general tone does not please us. It is too foggy and artificial for nature. Mr. Page, we observe, is prone to indulge his fancy in experimeuls. In this he mistakes. He is a man of genius, unquestionably; but iu his anxious pursuit of novelty, violatos too oftea the grand rules of the art. • Verbum sat sapienti.'
Number 63. Portrait. J. FROTHINGHAM. Capital, so far as tbe head is concerned, and strongly reminding us of G. STUART's best works.
NUMBER 67. Landscape. V. G. AUDUBON. The distance, and part of the middle ground, in this picture, are deserviug of all praise. The fore ground wants force, and the figures are not in perspective.
Number 71. Portrait of a Gentleman. W. H. Powell. The portraits by this gentleman are pleasing at the first glance, but will not bear close scrutiny. His style is showy but superficial; a dangerous fault in a young artist. We fear the injudicious advice of his friends has caused him to pay too little attention to the detail of his pictures. We can assure him that closer attention to this particular, will greatly enhance the value of his efforts, and give him a standing in the profes. sion that he can never otherwise attain.
NUMBER 93. Architect's Dream. T. Cole. Mr. Cole bas shown great knowledge of architec. ture in this work, and has preserved the perspective, both aèrial and architectural, with more than ordinary success. It is a beautiful picture; but the subject is not over felicitous,
Numeer 103. Landscape. A. RICHARDSON. With the exception of occasional mannerism, this artist paints a clever picture. He composes with taste and judgment, and his drawing is correct and natural. We prefer, however, a more liquid flow of the pencil; and iu tire foliage, should be pleased to see more of the green, and less of the brown tint.
Number 114. Indian Girl. J. E. Freeman. Carefully drawn, and pleasing in expression and arrangement of color, but almost ruined by a plastering style of execution, particularly in the flesh, which has vo truth in nature, and is most clearly in violation of good taste.
Numbers 126 AND 133. Two very fine landscapes, by Mr. DURAND. In composition, tone, and correctness of drawing, they are works which do the artist great credit. A little more force in the fore-grounds, and less of the red tints in his earth, would much improve both pictures. Mr. DURAND recently sailed for Europe, and we are satisfied, from the enthusiasm he bas manifested in the study of his art, that no one will avail himself more closely of the privileges there offered, or return more richly laden with the fruits of travel. He has surprised every one, year after year, by his steadily progressive improvement; and should his life be spared, we may predict that Mr. COLE will sooner encounter bim as a rival than any other artist now among us.
NUMBER 132. Portrait of a Lady. C. C. INGHAM. Remarkable for grace, sweetness of expression, and careful finish.
NUMBER 140. E. MOONEY. Painted with great care, and showing steady improvement over his former works.
Number 141. By C. Ver Bryck. A clever composition, in a pleasing tone, and only wanting in careful finish. NUMBERS 160, 161, AND 162. F. CRUIKSAANK. Water-color drawings, of great merit, and well VOL. XVI.
worthy the attention of our artists, particularly in the easy attitudes of the sitters, and the artistlike finish of the heads.
Number 177. La Pieté. By GrovANNI THOMPSON. Boldly designed and well colored. The expression of the mouth is exquisite.
NUMBER 179. Duenna. J. P. Rossiter. Shows a good eye for color, and considerable talent in composition, but lacks in grace and expression.
NUMBERS 183, 188, AND 242. Small cabinet pictures by W. 8. Mount. Mr. Mount has not put forth his strength this year. The great beauty of his pictures lies in the adınirable manner of his telliug a story. In color, or composition, he makes little pretensions, merely employing both as necessary auxiliaries to carry out his ideas; but in happy conception of character, he has no equa). Neither of the pictures under consideration, however, possesses in itself sufficient scope for the exercise of his peculiar talent ; consequently neither attracts so much attention as his works of former years. We presume he does pot desire to keep us always admiring. Yet we should not be surprised, if he should burst upon us next year with something peculiarly attractive.
Number 185. Capuchin Friars. W. Havill. A strange work, possessiog some good qualities, and many bad ones. As a whole we dislike it.
NUMBER 190. Parental Instruction. W. CREIGHTON. Said to have been painted in Dublin, and certainly a picture of great merit. The story is told with great truth, and it is generally well draws and colored. Still, it is totally devoid of transparency, and shows some glaring faults in its perspective. We have been half persuaded that it is a copy by a pupil, touched up by a master.
Number 195. Portrait of the late W. DUNLAP. By C. C. INGHAM. An excellent head, exhibiting the greatest care and fidelity in the drawing, expression, and color, that we remember ever to have noticed in a portrait by any American artist.
Number 199. Fourth of July. C. Deas. Mr. Deas is a young artist, of great promise. Ho evinces an observant eye for the characteristic traits of our countrymen ; but his talent requires to be disciplined by study. He paints too many pictures. They all look to be only half executed, One carefully-finished painting would do more to raise his reputation, than the six hastily and imperfectly-executed sketches, contained in the Catalogue. We hope he will receive these observations in the right spirit. We admire his genius, and only fear lest he may fall into bad habits, wbich he may find it difficult hereafter to overcome, and which have too often proved the grave of early genius and bright promise. Heed the advice of our late venerable friend Paff, and Jearn to paint the whole apple, and not merely the half of one.' In other words, Mr. Deas's objects want rotundity.
NUMBERS 204 AND 210. Landscapes. By W.M. ODDIE. Carefully finished cabinet pictures. Our artist should not suffer his pencil to lie so idle. We see but few of his efforts lately. He paints too well to abandon the art.
NUMBER 205. Landscape. C. Lanman. The work of another amateur, showing talent and a fine feeling for the beauties of nature.
NUMBERS 217 AND 222. Landscapes. By D. HUNTINGTON. Both good, but the second very good.
NUMBER 219. Greeks celebrating the arrival of King Otho, etc. I. Petzl. This is certainly a singular picture. It has greater merit than one would suppose, from a casual inspection. Examine it minutely, and it will be found to contain much of excellent drawing. It is highly and elaborately finished, but requires those masses of light and shade, so necessary to give a work of this character relief or effect. It indicates talent, but not genius.
Number 220. Portrait of Gen. HAMILTON. J. FroTHINGHAM. Another capital picture by this artist. Bold and masterly, in every respect, and worthy of all praise.
NUMBERS 230 AND 234. F. W. EDMONDS. We commend these pictures to the attentive study of young artists. They are finished pictures; finished in the scope and in the detail. The whole story is told. No part is omitted, or slurred over. And it is here that so many of our artists fail. They become impatient, and spurn those severe requirements of detail, and finish, without proper attention to wbichi, no painter can become great. The drawing, coloring, arrangement, etc., of these pictures are in excellent keeping. The management of light and shadow, in Number 234, is masterly. Mr. Edmonds, we have remarked, has been frequently compared to Wilkie. If by this be meant that he copies Wilkie's pictures, it is certainly no compliment, and very far from the truth. He can be compared to Wilkie in no other particular, (except perhaps in choosing his subjects from the same class of society that Wilkie chooses his,) than in his attention to design, composition, and light and shade. In these respects, he may be said to resemble Wilkie, and it is in these respects that Wilkie resembles the old masters. The great Scottish artist is one of the few who have carried all the principles of the grand style into the commonese subjects; and herein lies
the eminent merit of his works. Mr. Edmonds' paintings exhibit the same attention to the correct rules of laste; and we certainly hope he will not be induced, by such comparisons, to depart from them. A departure may please for a while, by reason of its novelty : but sooner or later will be discarded, as fictitious and false. The artist who paints for reputation, must seek a surer foundation for its basis than novelty.
NUMBER 270. The Phrenologist. L. P. Clover. A very carefully-fiuished picture, and showing very great improvement over works of former years. The figures, although good, we do not think quite equal to the back-ground, and other objects. The latter are naturally and capitally painted.
NUMBER 254. A Scene in the Campagnia of Rome. F.W. Puilip. Very clever, but not equal to another by the same artist, previously noticed.
NUMBER 259. The Appointment. S. A. Mount. Clear, and well-colored.
NUMBER 288. Portrait. C. R. LESLIE. Let our artists study this, for truth without effect, and expression without affectation.
This is the Fifteenth Annual Exhibition of the National Academy, and will be the last at their old rooms in Clinton Hall; the Academy having made arrangements with the proprietors of the Athenuum building, lately erected in Broadway, for rooins, where they can display their school of models, designs, casts, paintings, etc., 10 much better advantage. We congratulate the friends of the Fine Arts on the fourishing condition of this institution. It has struggled on through the difficulties and embarrassments necessarily attendant on its first formation, until it has at last attained a cha. racter, and stability in means and resources, not likely to be shaker, and a reputation which we trust will increase with its years, and multiply with its growth.'
Park THEATRE. Fanny EllsLER: Fytte the First. -- Have you not, 0 most gentle reader! in your search after the picturesque, through shady dell, or by the moss-covered bank of rippling brook, beheld a butterfly alight upon a rose-bud? Seated, perchance, beneath the far-spreading shade of venerable oak, you have watched the rainbow-gilded wings of the flutterer, as they fauned the air in its tiny circuit; anou its feet, delicate and slim as petals of the water-lily, unfolded themselves to the flower, with a louch too light to disturb even the down upon its surface. Perchance at dewy morn, arising fresh and with the sun, with lead clear, and imperturbatus by last night's punck, you have sallied out into green lane, and been startled into an excess of bounding delight, by the spirit-stirring tones of the lark, as up-rising from green meadow, the warbler mounted higher and yet higher ; with tone growing more and niore delicious and divine, as his form shot up into the clear dark blue of heaven; until, in a gush of ecstatic joy, the sound ceased, as if the bird had been caught up and smothered in the embrace of angels! Hast ever seen in our own green-wood, the red deer, unhaunted by terror, playfully skipping through shade and sunlight, his feet scorpiug even the verdant turf, as if, like that heaven-seeking spirit, made immortal in the page of ShakSPEARE, he too had a soul which in aspiration listed him from earth; now still, with eye far-glancing, scanning wide or plain or avenue, then bounding away with a toss of antlers, speaking, like the note of pightingale, of the careless, ripe joy of a free spirit ? Seeing these heart-stirring pictures, drawn by the pencil of Nature (long ere DAGUERRE, that Immortal, was born,) thou hast seen the colorings, as through a kaleidoscope the tints of a rainbow, of one of the three Gratiæ, whom we mortals call FANNY Elssler !
Thou hast often looked upon scene of wood and glen, of town and country, palace and cottage; snugly ensconced, the while, in pit or box; and in thine unsophisticated judgment provounced the same to be natural and beautiful exceedingly. At some after day, thou hast, by oflicious friend, hand-and-glove with either call-boy or manager, or the grades which exist between, been led behind the scenes! Here, although behind, thou hast been favored with a view of these watercolor sketches in front; and thy previous judgment has been put to confusion, by the rough outline of those once-loved views, which distance and thine own fancy made beautiful.
Gentle reader, prithee understand and appreciate our meaning, when we affirm, that in these two distinct situations, the ante and the pone, in regard to the scene upon the stage, lies the difference between the lark, the deer, the butterfly, and the graceful moveinents of our Goddess of the Dance, the divine Fanny. Nature is a mysterious teacher, a wonderful mistress; a beautiful fashioner of the simple, as well as of the sublime; but it is when wedded with Art, that she displays the wonders of her genius. Nature forms the marble, but Art chissels the statue. O he, jam satis est !
BOWERY THEATRE. — Yah! yab! yah! Look o' hea, Sam Johnsing, what you doin' thar?! ejaculated a happy-voiced boy, as he rushed past us, in a late twilight walk, and disappeared at the pit-cloor of the · American Theatre.' That laugh, said we, interually, must bave been learned, recently, of the veritable “BonE SQUASH ;' and at that moment the cognomen of Rice, in buge capitals, stared at us from the play-bills- the first intimation we had received of his arrival from Europe. Entering the theatre, we found it crammed, from pit to dome, and the best representative of our American vegro that we ever saw, was stretching every mouth in the house to its utmost tension. Such a natural gait!- such a laugh! - and such a twitching-up of the arm and shoulder! It was the negro, par excellence. Long live James Crow, Esquire !
MITCHELL'S OLYMPIC Theatre. – This veat little establishment has been thoroughly renovated for the summer campaign, and has opened to a succession of crowded and delighted audiences. Mr. Ranger has been performing a short engagement at this house, and with a success the most complete. The' Romantic Widow' was received with marked favor; but his chief triumph was in his performance of Clermont,' in his touching and beautiful play of 'The Artist's Wife.' The abundant tears and sobs of the audience, and the enthusiastic and prolonged applause which greeted the gifted actor-author, on every representation of this piece, have more than coufirmed our encomium and prediction, in the last number of the KNICKERBOCKER. We propose, when space, and leisure shall serve, to attempt an analysis of Mr. Ranger's style, and to institute a comparison between his chaste, simple manner, and the affected, ranting school, so much in vogue, bitherto, in this country.
CATHERWOOD'S PANORAMAS, – The Eternal City' is at the Rotunda, corner of Prince-street and Broadway; there insoniuch, at least, that one who visits the Panorama, frauglit with classic recollections, and familiar with the thousand descriptions of modern times, may, without the expense, nausea marina, or other désagremens of travel, gain a better idea of the lone mother of dead empires,'than many a one among us possesses, whose money - not taste, nor a love of intellectual enjoyment -- led him to the City of the Cæsars. The illusion is indeed marvellous. Ruins, grim with time; Saint Peters, the Colosseum, the Pantheon ; the Castle of Saint Angelo, the Tiber, Soracte,
like a long-swept wave from out the surge ;' and an hundred other objects, equally famous, are before the beholder, in very life; with the accessories of memorable statues, and marble figures volant, couchant, and rampant, down to the gaping Tritons that spew to wash the traveller's face, How from that sublime theatre, as surveyed from the Capitoline Hill, have the world's thunderers gone down, with all the tumult they made, while new generations, rolling and trainpling over them, have followed on, even until now! As we gazed upon the faint smoke, rising from Roman dwell, ings, amid the ruins of dateless centuries, a remark of the imaginative TEUFELSDRÖCKH rose to mind : “There in that old eity was a live ember of culinary fire put down, two thousand years ago; and there, burning more or less triumphantly with such fuel as the region yielded, it has burnt, and still burns, aud thou seest the smoke thereof.'
But our readers must examine this superb work of art for themselves; having done which, they should by no means fail to .change the scene to the ‘Bay Islaodx,' in the Pacific, a picture of scarcely less attraction, as a work of art, than the view of Rome itself.
'Love's PROGRESS,' a little volume from the Harpers' press, and the pen of Mrs• GILMAN, of South-Carolina, author of 'Recollections of a New-England HouseKeeper,' etc., is one of those agreeable take-downable books, from off a family-library shelf, or take-upable produetion, on board a steam-boat, for an hour or two of pleasant entertainment. In sketches of life and manners, and correct outlines of various charac, ter, Mrs. Gilman is an adept: and this fascinating species of composition involves often, with our author, a finely-tempered and pungent satire, which is not the less effective, thai it is subdued, or apparently concealed. Humor and pathos alternate, amidst entertaining incident; while a valuable moral, domestic, or more enlarged, is never lost sight of. We cordially weleome this unpretending volume, and commend it with confidence to general acceptance.