many, where he who runs may read the genius of the people in its artistic efflorescence. Average specimens also of each English master are to be seen in the galleries open to visiters; and the higher class of periodicals devoted to the subject, as well as many biographies and criticisms, have rendered its essential qualities familiar to every intelligent American.

The most impressive of his experiences in London, is when he reads Wren's epitaph in St. Paul's, and in obedience to its counsel, looks around and especially upward, to behold the great architect's monument. In original enterprise the watercolor exhibition will prove an agreeable surprise; the English have here achieved wonders. As an accomplishment drawing is widely cultivated; and in almost every dwelling, from the middle class to the high nobility, a taste for art is evident in some gem by an old master, the heir-loom of generations, or the recent and dearly-purchased acquisition from a modern pencil; and often in a most creditable specimen of domestic skill. These amenities have not lessened the coarseness of the lower orders. The rude fac-similes preserved by Mayhew, indicate that what he calls street-art, has not advanced since the Restoration. In London, an elegant edition of Sir Joshua's "Discourses" graces the nobleman's library; in Florence, the mutilation of a statue excites the common people almost to revolutionary

frenzy; in the one place art is thus a luxury of the educated, in the other a popular interest.

It is from the neighboring scenery of Scotland and Wales, from the beautiful skies of Italy, and the poetic imagery of the East, that the English painter derives picturesque ideas. There are, indeed, craggy uplands, romantic lakes, and desolate moors, that afford impressive scenic materials, but the prevalence of level and highly-cultivated land, obliges the artist, who affects home subjects, to make up for the deficiency of grand features in the landscape, by a skilful use of the casual effects of nature, as in the living tints and almost moving clouds of Constable, and the breezy seacoasts of Stanfield, and to resort to the minute language of common life, or its idealized personation. It is a notable instance of the law of compensation, that the comparative absence of remarkable scenery in England, has thus given rise to the characteristic excellences of her school of painting, as the flatness of the Low Countries induced superiority of still-life in Flemish pictures. The vicissitudes of the climate, also, by concentrating enjoyment within doors, has led to a passion for collection and vertu, and thus indirectly promoted a taste for art. The literature of England is rich also in the eloquent exposition of the subject; and few works are so redolent of intelligent enthusiasm, in this regard, as those of Walpole, Reynolds, Beckford, North

cote, Hazlitt, Eastlake, Mrs. Jameson, Ruskin, and others.

There is far less taste for music, however, among the masses in England than those of America. "Chaque musicien," says a French writer, speaking of an English orchestra, "selon l'usage joua sou air favori, avec cette noble independence qui caractérise l'artiste Anglais." A piano is to be found even in dwellings on the outskirts of civilization in this country; but some of the best English writers ridicule the Italian opera; and a London audience, except when composed mainly of the aristocracy, prefer one of Dibdin's songs to the sweetest cavatinas of Bellini; their sympathies do not rise above the national anthem; "All's Well," and "The Bay o' Biscay," bring down the house, when "Vi ravisso," or "Non piu mesta," would only provoke a yawn. The ballad to the common heart is more attractive than the lyrical drama. It is otherwise in church music; Handel's popularity was remarkable, and, of elaborate composition, the oratorio is the favorite.

One of the most desirable of recent artistic institutions is the school of practical art, the rooms of which are above the Vernon gallery. It is a palpable evidence of the consciousness of deficient national taste; and is intended as a corrective of the incongruous and ugly style of dress and furniture which deform the persons and homes of the

English. Specimens are here exhibited of good and bad patterns, in articles of domestic economy, ornaments, and fabrics; and a catalogue raissoné explains the principle both of objection and preference; so that, even without any great sense of beauty, the visiter, when thus enlightened, may be horrified at the sight of his own pantaloons and drawing-room carpet, and take an initiative practical lesson in the appropriate, that may lead finally to the appreciation of high art.

Nature herself has abridged the artistic development of England; her climate is unfavorable to ideal achievement, and to that elemental harmony between atmosphere, light, and temperature, and the purposes and effects of the artist, which render Italy and Greece a paradise in comparison. A dome or a column should print itself against a densely blue sky to be truly effective; a cadenza should ring through such a crystal air as hangs over Naples or Mexico, to reveal its sweetest melody; and color to be transparent and vivid, must be studied where the purple evening mantles with radiant hues the Adriatic sea. Marble grows black and bronze corrodes in England, when exposed to air; how like a fossil coal looks Canning's form, and what a sooty hue invests Nelson, as the metal and the stone have become superficially decomposed by moisture. Half the time we must shiver instead of being cheered at the sight and sound of

a fountain; and walking round St. Paul's, the walls look as if snow and soot had alternately drifted against them-especially the latter. The chiaro 'scuro made by smoke, gas, and drizzle, do not promote a desirable relievo in objects architectural or statuesque; the absence of the sun keeps invisible the more delicate touches of Leonardo and the finer tints of Claude on the noble's wall; and even the daguerreotypist must watch, like the fog-shrouded navigator on the Banks, for days before he can "get the sun." In such a climate great thinkers and indefatigable artisans prosper; but art must be aided by pilgrimages to clearer horizons, and to latitudes where the firmament is oftener visible, and at home it will inevitably require the hot-bed of munificent patronage.

Of the national depositories of art, there is none that charms the stranger like Hampton Court, and this primarily for other reasons than the ostensible one of its beautiful array of pictures. The rural attractions, the historical memories, and, not least, the weekly freedom of the palace and grounds, enjoyed by all classes and ranks, combine to make it one of the most delightful resorts in the vicinity of London. The moment you enter the old park, the stone archway, venerable trees, and groups of deer, attest the luxurious abode of the ambitious churchman, which, in a mood between fear and policy, he tendered as a gift to Henry VIII. Even in winter, the