for in our national complection we are nearly allied, moderation in gesture and gravity is esteemed the greater virtue. The Spaniards have another standard of moderation and gravity, according to the lofty genius of Spain, where the hands are as often principals as accessaries to their proud expressions. I shall not notice the Dutch in this instance, as I have not been able to learn what pertains to them farther than speculative gravity but as our language is grown so rich by the adoption of words of all nations, and so altered from the old Teutonic, if the rule of moderation be persevered in, we may, with decorum and gravity, meet the hand of any of the warmer nations half way, with the manual adjuncts of our expressions.

M. W.S

ART. VII. Extract of a Letter from an English Historical Painter at Rome.

Rome, March, 1819.

Since I last wrote to you

I

have visited Greece; and though it is not generally considered the thing for a painter to do, I am so delighted to have been there, that I look upon it as a good move in my life. The hardships one must undergo in travelling there, the excessive heat, the difficulties attending painting there, and the frequent disappointments one necessarily experiences in descending from fancy to reality, are enough to quell occasionally the

most enthusiastic spirit; but Athens, the resting place, redeems all.

I entered the Piræus at dawn; it is a small harbour, or rather port, with some miserable houses on one side. One or two merchant ships were lying at anchor, and a few Greeks were wrangling on a kind of pier: the plague was in Athens, at least without the walls, and fortunately it never got in. The road from the Piræus lies along the site of the long wall; midway you enter the olive grove that encircles Athens like a vast zone almost on every side. This past, a mile or so, the plain begins, and the Acropolis becomes distinct; on which, notwithstanding some high towers, the Parthenon predominates. The town is entirely surrounded by a wall, and the Acropolis and the Areopagus together hide it completely from the view. As you approach, the temple of Theseus appears above the wall, with one palm tree, and Mount Hymettus beyond, the very essence of every thing classicand the colour is so too-here are no vivid greens, which belong to the Dutch school and not to Poussin-there is, on the contrary, a silent Egyptian sandy surface every where-no verdure—but grey ground and yellow burnt grass-the Acropolis with the tone of Lodovico Caracci-the temple of Theseus a golden brown-the olive grove one belt of grey-the mountains Titianesque, and the sky more so.

I had an opportunity of judging of the effects

of the metopes in the Parthenon; one good one remains at the south-west corner; they appear nothing from below; and I should think it impossible to judge of their merit accurately at that distance by the naked eye. On the north-west corner are some metopes in a very bad style, of female figures sitting, one of which, however, at the corner, seems very fine;-but there is no getting near them. The basso-rilievo on the west side of the cella, which Lord Elgin only took in plaster, is said to be the finest; because, say the architects, it could be seen more easily than the rest. Because these things cannot have their proper effect, or rather cannot be properly appreciated at such a distance, Wilkins concludes that they are inferior works. Now the principle throughout the Parthenon seems to have been that of lavishing labour and taste where it could produce no effect whatever; such was the gilding or painting the band under the triglyphs with an exquisite ornament, which could never be. distinguished from below, and the cornice within the portico, where it was too dark. This profusion, and what we should call useless high finish, is to be accounted for by a spirit of devotion to the goddess; and the best artists were honoured by being permitted to decorate, with their best works, even such parts of the temple as were out of the reach of examination. On the same principle the parts which were nearer the eye, the statue of Minerva itself for instance,

was not of common materials, as if the perfection of art itself was not sufficient without costly materials to do homage to the deity of Athens.

ART. VIII. Some Account of DANEKKER, the celebrated Sculptor.

DANEKKER is a native of Stutgard, born of humble parents. The early bent of his genius, which first led him to a fondness for drawing, and made him once spoil some smooth hewn stones, scratching flowers and figures on them with a nail, afterwards appears to have become too strong to be checked by the opposition of his parents. When the Duke Charles, predecessor of the late King of Wirtemberg, offered to admit one of their children into an excellent public seminary, his parents refused, from a false idea that the students were only designed to fill the ranks. The boy entreated in vain, permission to accept the offer, and his importunities were at last silenced by confinement in his chamber. He contrived to communicate from his window with eight of his comrades, whom he persuaded to accompany him to the duke himself at Ludwigsburg, to entreat an admission into the academy. The boys announced themselves, and were kindly received by the duke, who was delighted with the resolution of the would-be academician of thirteen. He was immediately placed in the seminary, where he found the means of a liberal

education, which afforded him a fund of acquirements useful in his profession. He studied here nine years; then made pedestrian tours to Paris and to Rome, profiting almost unaided by the opportunities they afforded him. In Italy he received kindnesses from Canova and Trippel, and was recalled by his prince in 1790, to his great grief, from the bright skies and the noble relics of Rome to the fogs and cramped occupations of Stutgard. By way of recompense, he was made court sculptor, and professor at the academy, with a salary of 800 florins, now considerably increased, for which he is engaged to execute all the orders of the court.

But the object of the Fine Arts which gave me the greatest gratification, was a single statue belonging to M. Bethmann, the great banker. In a summer-house of his pleasing garden, in the suburbs, you find a collection of admirable casts, executed at Paris; besides one marble statue by Danekker, surpassing any thing I have seen in modern sculpture. It is an Ariadne seated on a lion, in an attitude of great difficulty of execution, but easy and graceful in the highest degree. She is reclining on one side-her right elbow supported on the lion's shoulder, her head turned with a pensive grace-one drooping hand holds the clue of thread, while the other lightly supports her right foot. The position is so involved that nothing but the most consummate art could have reconciled it with nature. It is one of the happiest conceptions of grace that an artist's imagination