declared to be no parts; that is, they are parts really expressed, but no parts in regard to the oath. They are parts which a man may swear to perform, but no parts in respect to the actual performance. In regard to all these positions of Mr. Birney and the editor of the Emancipator, no healthy conscience can fail to distinguish them from those principles which they would seek to confound with them. They differ totally from the case of the private citizen, to which we have already adverted in a previous part of these remarks. They cannot shelter themselves, as they would sometimes attempt to do, under the plea that every one who believes that there is the least imperfection in the Constitution, is in the same predicament with themselves. Perhaps no man who swears to maintain the instrument, regards it in all respects as absolutely perfect. One may hold that there are political evils involved in our form of government, and yet may honestly swear to execute the whole and every part; and may honestly fulfil his oath, on the ground, that in a system which has an immense balance of good, the strict performance even of those parts which are inexpedient and imperfect, involves no breach of moral obligation, until they are remedied by amendments in the only constitutional way. On this principle, a sincere opponent of slavery, who would use all lawful means for its eradication from our form of government, may, if elected to office, not only swear to maintain, but actually execute, according to their true intention, all laws which at present provide for the arrest of fugitive slaves, and the security of the slaveholding States against servile insurrections. These cases, we say, present an aspect entirely different from the one before us. Here it is assumed, that the faithful execution of certain parts of the Constitution would involve an executive officer in moral guilt. If an individual is convinced of this, there is an end of the question as to him. Conscience must be supreme. A man cannot conscientiously do what he regards as a violation of the laws of God. The whole matter, then, is reduced to a conclusion from which there is no escape. If Mr. Birney cannot conscientiously do certain acts, then we say, à fortiori atque à fortissimo, that he cannot conscientiously take an oath that he will

do them.

We may well inquire, where would this doctrine lead, if carried out to its full

est extent? Let us take another case, which at the present day is not merely hypothetical and possible, but extremely probable. Let us suppose a man, or party of men, who, by profound meditation on first principles, have come to the conclusion that all property (in land at least) is wrong per se. Were we disposed, in the present argument, or had we time and space to examine thoroughly the prime falsehood which lies at the bottom of the abolition principle, it would be no difficult matter to show, that the doctrine of abstract rights on which the one is based would also support the other. But we proceed with our supposed case. This individual, or this party, by constantly dwelling on this one idea, has come to regard property not only as an evil, but as a most enormous evil, as the greatest of evils, as an evil politically, socially and morally, as in fact the original sin of our institutions, as that evil which includes in itself all other evils of every name and nature. These persons have dug so deep as to discover that this lies at the bottom of all our miseries, that all other reforms are useless until it is removed. They pity the benighted abolitionist, as yet in some degree under the influences of ancient prejudices, and so far behind themselves in the march of reform. For one man to be lord of a manor, or to have the exclusive right to land, is equivalent, they say, to shutting other men into a narrower space than nature intended. It is a restraint upon their natural and inalienable rights, without compensation and without their consent. Here then is the essence of all slavery. To aim at extinguishing one species of the evil, is like cutting off the branches and leaving the root untouched. It is like aiming to destroy the brood, whilst it leaves the mother of this hellish

progeny unassailed. Let us therefore, they say, lay the axe at the root of this Bohon Upas. Let us drive in our moral crow-bar, or (to use a common species of abolition cant) our machinery of moral force, at the lowest foundation stone of this giant castle of iniquity.

Now this is no picture of fancy. We have heard men (and women too) declaim in this very manner, and almost in this very language. In these days of Owenism, socialism, and anti-rentism, the case stated is far from being beyond the bounds of probability. Such men might, perhaps, at first, spend their strength in railing at all who do not see the evil of property, and its utter repugnance to all the

principles of natural justice, in the same light that they do. They might at first talk much of moral power, whilst they hurled their hottest denunciations against the church and clergy, for bringing up the Bible in support of this horrible wickedness. Soon, however, they might be tempted to form a political party, but here they are met by an obstacle. If a party, then must they have candidates for of fice; these must swear to support the "oath bound Constitution and laws" of the State of New York. These laws not only recognize, but are actually based upon this very exclusivenees of property, which they have again and again denounced, not simply as improper and needing remedy, but as positively wrong per se; as "opposed to common justice, to good morals, to humanity, and to the law of God." How then can they swear to support and execute such a system? It is the easiest thing in the world, says Mr. Birney and the Rev. Joshua Leavitt. Your candidate may offer without qualification or reserve, to take the oath to maintain the Constitution and laws of the State, including, among other provisions, all those that secure the holders of large tracts of land in the exclusive control of their estates. He may also swear to execute the laws, which, undoubtedly, according to the mere letter, would require him to sustain courts, sheriffs, and all judicial and executive officers in enforcing the legal claims to property. But then, according to that more transcendental code of ethics, into which we men of moral power have been initiated, he has only mentally to regard these iniquitous clauses as no parts of the Constitution.

In support of this, too, we can furnish him with some of the most original and effective specimens of logic, such as must utterty confound all gainsayers. For "the Constitution," he may say, "is a constitution of government; governments have no right to ordain what is immoral and unjust." Therefore although he has sworn without any reserve to support an instrument which he knew to require what was wrong, yet he is not bound to fulfil such a sworn promise," because such parts as are immoral and unjust are no parts at all, &c., &c." Again, the Constitution of New York professes to main tain justice; those therefore who swear to support the Constitution, that is to main tain justice, and who nevertheless lend their aid to enforce those parts which you regard as so abominable, do, on your theory, commit more perjury, than you

would, by taking the opposite course. It being then a question in the rule of three, you have the advantage in proportion as it is better to swear a little false for the sake of justice, than to commit much perjury in support of what is wrong. On this state of facts, and "there being no alternative," but to swear to support the Constitution for the present as it is, or to give up those glorious reforms which you honestly deem so important-why should you "beat out your brains against a mere technicality for the benefit of the land holders, and thus give up the State to the administration of the unjust?" "and all this, because the land-holders have had the cunning to foist into our oath-bound Constitution, a tacit agreement that their piracy shall be protected." Will you allow them to treat you "as superstitious idolators, who will not overstep a priest's tabu to save the lives of your own mother's children?" Swear then without qualification, at the same time secretly reserving to yourselves to perform what you have sworn, just so far as your own nice sense of moral obligation may require.

But we have dwelt longer on this than we intended. It is really too plain a matter for those whose consciences are unperverted, and as for the victims of such miserable sophistry, they are perhaps beyond the reach of argument. The simple and only answer comes up at once to every unsophisticated mind. If you feel and know that a greater or lesser portion of what you are to swear to is morally wrong, and that you cannot perform it with a safe conscience, then you cannot take the oath; and if you do, no sophisti cal quibbling about technicalities, or about parts being no parts, can save you from the double guilt, which attaches, both to the swearing to perform and to the mere performance. In both respects you offer most profanely to trifle with that Holy Name, which we are so solemnly commanded never to take in vain. Let not men who hold to such doctrines ever talk any more about conscience. sailing the sanction of the oath, they take from conscience its firmest support; the main bond which connects the visible with the invisible world. Let them drop their canting pretensions to higher principles; let them check their foul-mouthed abuse of other and better men than themselves; and above all, let them forever cease their profane and stale babbling about moral power.

In as

THERE is now in this city, brought over from Italy by the American Consul at Genoa, Mr. C. Edwards Lester, a more ex quisite and noble work of art than has probably ever been in this country. It is a Christ on the Cross, wrought out of of a single piece of ivory by a Genoese monk. The circumstances attending its execution and disposal, and the character of the old monk by whom it was worked, are of singular interest.

Passing one evening near the old convent of St. Nicholas, which stands on the semicircular hill that sweeps around back of Genoa-an immense picturesque building, at one time used for barracks by Napoleon, now half in ruins and tenanted by a few old monks-Mr. L., wandering through the long, dilapidated corridors, saw, through a cell-door partly ajar, an unusually large ivory figure, lying on a table, unfinished. Rapping on the ghostly lintel, a hollow step came, and the door was shut in his face. Mr. L. requested entrance. A husky faint voice refused him: "The cell was sacred;" and a rusty bolt grated to finish the reply. Mr. L. "wanted to see the holy image he was working." "The Divine Christ didnot permit him to show his crucified body." Mr. L. " wished to talk religiously with his Father." The monk had "no desire to speak of these things with a stranger." After much other ascetic conversation, Mr. L. finally declaring himself an American deputed to visit all the holy Catholic convents, the door was at length cautiously opened. A long and singular conversation ensued. The monk was one of those strange intellectual beings, peculiar for centuries to the Catholic church -a true ascetic, gloomy-souled, thoughtful enthusiast, worthy of the times of the Crusaders. His account of the origin and progress of his sacred work was extraordinary, and entirely in keeping with such a character.

There had been in some garret or storehouse in Genoa, for years, centuries perhaps longer, at least, than any one had

remembered or heard-an immense block of ivory, of a strange appearance. It was two or three times as large as any piece that had ever been seen, being in a seamless solid beam over three feet long, fourteen inches in diameter, and weighing more than one hundred and twenty-five pounds. All the antiquarians in Italy who have looked at it, have pronounced it a relic of the antediluvian world, no modern piece of ivory being at all to be compared with it either in size or appear

ance.

It was supposed to have been brought from the East in some Genoese vessel, when that state was famed for her maritime enterprise, and had ships in all parts of the world. It might, indeed, have come from any region-having been preserved by some natural means--as there are in several places fragments of immense tusks fossilised, which must have belonged to some antediluvian or pre-Adamic race of animals that produced ivory; and, what is more to the point, it is well authenticated that there was discovered, many years ago, in the north of Europe, imbedded in century-accumulated ice--and thus preserved from decay, even to the flesh, skin, and hair-an indi, vidual of some extinct genus very much larger than any modern kind of elephant.

It was looked upon, however, as worthless, except for a curiosity of unknown origin-the whole exterior being thoroughly discolored and decomposed, and the decay apparently reaching to the centre. From some indications, the monk is induced to suppose otherwise. He feels himself moved by a sacred impulse. Heaven has provided-marvellously-a substance for an image of the divine Christ. It must indeed be made, by exceeding skill and toil, such an one as was never seen. But how blessed shall he be who shall execute it aright!-With hurried eagerness, the austere enthusiast bore the heavy fragment up the hill, to his ruined convent beyond the city-as He who was to be imaged forth from the shapeless mass, once ascended his hill of suffering with

the burden of his cross. He shut himself up in his cell-away even from the inquiries of his fellow monks-and begun his labor.

It was necessary first to remove the decayed portions. The outside was found to be of a dull gray, and porous; the parts next to this were denser, and of a dark mottled brown; it then deepened into a substance black as ebony, and nearly as hard as glass; beyond this there was nearly an inch thick, almost as hard, but of a curdled yellow. Having with great labor cut all this away-much of it being almost impervious to instruments of steel -a solid mass of ivory was reached of a pure cream color, entirely unchanged by the action of centuries, measuring about 33 inches in length and 8 inches in diameter, and weighing about 80 pounds. From this substance, which could with difficulty be cut, but slowly etched and scraped away, the crucified Christ was to be wrought. The account which the monk of St. Nicholas gave of his long labor up to the time M. L. entered his unfrequented cloister, was simple and affecting. He knew nothing, by practice, of the shaping of images; he had never wrought upon a piece of ivory in his life. But he thought the dear Lord, and gracious MaryMother, would aid him in so holy a labor. He would be inspired to make a divine work. And suddenly, he said, the inspiration came-like a thought. A vision sprung up within him-(he did no tknow, that thus the ideal always arises to genius!) He saw God on the Cross-dead. It never could pass away from him, and he knew it was sent to him for the holy image he must make. Always, there fore, day and night, he prayed before that crucified vision in his soul, while he began confidently to give it form from the hard beam of ivory, that lay constantly before him. It became to him a work of devotion and sublime hope. If he could but make it superior to any other such representation in the world, Mary, and the Son of Mary,and the sacred Angels, would, perhaps, give him a higher place among the Blessed! And it was with him a work of penance. Often, he said, his thoughts wandered away from the divine imageinto the world-Then he would bow himself before the form he was shaping, with sighs and tears; and his penance was, to continue his prayers and his slow laborwithout food, or drink, or sleep-for 20 and 30 hours at once, deep through the night, till the day-break looked into his

cell. On such occasions, he saw, sometimes, a miraculous glory encircling the head of the figure, as he worked upon it!-(a natural effect of his solitary lamp upon a vision fevered by intense straining.)

With such patient and severe enthusiasm-ascetic inspiration familiar to the days of Loyola and Peter the Hermit, and still found sometimes n the followers of the Catholic Church---the Monk of St Nicholas had been now nearly four years engaged upon this statue of Christ, when Mr. L. visited him. He was very much worn with his constant toil, and, what was more, the restless excitement of a naturally vivid mind; but the high, pale forehead, and the eyes, glowing and thoughtful, though deeply sunken, spoke at once the intellectual capacities of the man. The work was so far completed, as to show at a glance its remarkable character. Mr. L. inquired what he intended to do with it. He seemed only anxious to have it placed in some church, where it might long be looked upon and reverenced by devout people, himself receiving a little remuneration for four years labor. Mr. L. immediately offered him five or six times as much as the poor monk had dreamed of receiving, adding, that it should be carried to America, and placed where it should be preserved, and receive great veneration. After much hesitation, he accepted the offer, and Mr. L. had him carry the statue at once to the consulate residence, where he came frequently, for six months longer, to give it the last touches.

Certainly, the figure, as it now exists, is an extraordinary work-equally in conception and execution. The ideal seems to have been the Saviour at the moment after death, but before the agonized expression had left the divine form--an ideal we do not remember ever to have seen represented. The first great impression emanates to the beholder from the entire appearance of the frame, as it hangs upon the cross, distended with the immortal pains that have hardly departed, The exactness of detail, and the wonderful effect of the whole combined, are truly astonishing. The anatomical structure, to the most experienced eyes that have scrutinized it, is found perfect. The deli cate veins are seen coursing under the skin, as in the living model, while every muscle is sloped to its termination with an exactness and naturalness, that seem almost miraculous. Not the slightest

particular effect, moreover, that would result in a body hanging in so unnatural a position-as the great protrusion of the chest, the unusual distension of the chords of the arms-even to the gathering of the flesh above the nails in the hands and feet, by the weight resting upon them, fails to appear in distinct execution. But the triumph of the work is in the face of the Redeemer. The characteristics there presented can never be once seen and forgotten; and with prolonged study they appear the more remarkable. The linea ments, slightly bolder than the usual Grecian, but beautiful in the extreme the wonderful union, in the features, of manly massiveness and exquisite womanish delicacy-the contrast, above all, of intellectual agony, knit into the brows and frozen upon the lofty forehead, with the sublime composure of sweet and calm resignation that sleeps around the almost feminine mouth--are a combination which could belong to no human countenance, which we have never seen idealized in any work of art, and such alone as could arise from the great conception of the Son of Deity, who had been able to feel a deep joy in dying by an infinite torture.

It will appear extraordinary, that a solitary person, who had previously studied no anatomical models, fashioned no images, nor even amused himself with working a little in ivory, should suddenly be able to achieve so triumphant an effort of art. But if we do not believe, with the earnest monk, in Heavenly impulses in such cases, we may remember another inspiration-the power which arises from strong native faculties and a constantly excited, resolute and expectant spirit, concentrated together on a single absorbing object. This is, in fact, simply the inspiration of genius-whose wonderful achievements always come unlooked for.

The fact, at least, of this achievement is beyond question. When the statue was finished, it was at once placed, universally and by the finest judges in Italy, at the head of all sculpture in ivory. There are thousands of ivory figures in the Italian churches, especially at Florence and Genoa, but none could be found with half its length, a third of its weight, or anything of its extraordinary execution. Numerous critiques appeared in Italian journals, all speaking to one effect; and ma

ny persons, with that enthusiasm for all art, which is almost the only remaining honor of that unhappy people, made long and expensive journeys to see it.

The opinion of our eminent artist, Mr. Powers, will be of particular weight in this connection. The statue had been taken by request to Leghorn, to which Mr. Powers, who resides at Florence, made a journey principally to see a work of art, already so celebrated. Mr. Powers at once expressed his surprise and admiration at the extraordinary character of the execution. At his request, as also the requests before preferred by eminent persons in Florence, it was carried to that city.

After looking at it, a long time, Mr. Powers said he thought he could touch the brows with a slight improvement. Mr. L. readily told him to do so, having the fullest confidence in his skill and judgment. The figure was accordingly carried to the artist's studio, and fine instruments were prepared for the purpose. But after retaining it ten days, every day contemplating the divine lineaments which he thought to retouch, he finally resolved not to do it, saying that not a line could be altered without injury-at least " he could not do it." In addition to the high estimation unqualifiedly implied in this incident, a passage may be subjoined from a private letter, addressed by Mr. Powers to the present possessor of the statue.

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"I am glad to hear that you intend taking your beautiful ivory statue of Christ to the U. States, and I hope it will remain there. It is the largest work that I have ever seen in ivory, and I doubt if another could be found of so great a size executed in the same material. But this, though of considerable importance, is the least of its recommendations. There is an expression of calmness and dignity about it, which I conceive to be quite characteristic of our Saviour, and which I have never seen before in any similar work. The form is full and manly, and the execution is quite beautiful. I hope if you part with it, that it may remain in some place where it can be generally seen and studied, for such works will improve our tastes in the arts in America, and the more we have of them the better."

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