were mingled with words of warning. His farewell to Congress closed in this way (we translate from the French): "I desire, with all sincerity, to see the Confederation consolidated, the public faith preserved, commerce regulated, continental magazines established, the frontiers fortified, a general and uniform system of militia, and the navy in a state of vigour. It is on these foundations alone that the true independence of these States can be established. May this vast temple, which we have just reared to liberty, forever offer a warning to oppress ors, an example to the oppressed, an asylum to the rights of mankind, and so rejoice the shades of its founders in the ages that are to come!" The whole visit had taken the same tone; nor need we doubt that it effected a great deal towards uniting our fathers, and rousing their interest in what they had to do together-manfully, generously, devotedly together or not at

all.

Forty years after, he came again (1824). He was a differ ent man: how much had he gone through in the interval! Disappointed in France and in Europe, he came to refresh himself in the prosperity of America. It was not all sunshine, even to his easily blinded eyes. He saw the parties, the strifes, the intrigues, the seeds of disunion, all rife amongst us, and he again counselled peace, charity, unity. "My journey," he wrote home, "has contributed to strengthen the union amongst the States, and to soothe the different parties, by interesting them all in their common regard for the stranger." This, however, was not enough. He spoke to the point, he recalled his sainted Washington, and pleaded, with all the influence of both, for the cause of the country. Nor did he rest here; but pointing to South America and Greece, where men were struggling for liberty, he demanded sympathy and suggested coöperation; he would rouse the nation, it seemed, to its duties to others as well as to itself. Thus faithful, thus earnest in the midst of all the rejoicings of which he was the object, and with which no one could be more touched than he, the old man lingered and at length departed.

They buried him, a few years later, in a little cemetery on one of the suburban streets of Paris, where the gloom rather than the glory of death prevails. One word lights up the spot

-a word upon a heavy tomb-LAFAYETTE. At this the heart throbs, the eye fills; one looks back through year after year,one looks away, mile beyond mile, to other scenes. We catch a glimpse of that example which moved all France-the young husband, the young courtier, sacrificing himself to a service amongst strangers and privations. We hear an echo from that voice as it came across the sea to plead for a cause as yet unknown and unvalued. Then the result returns to remembrance, -the Treaty for which the generous heart of the Frenchman had yearned, as due alike to the honour of his native, and the success of his adopted land. We behold the reappearance of the young hero on the French soil,-his king welcoming, his country applauding, while he, though not insensible to the welcome or the applause on his own account, turns both to the advantage of those whom he had left behind him in loneliness and darkness. We hear him entreating-we see him planning and acting in their behalf; and then, so soon as his point is carried, again abandoning the distinctions and the joys of home, to convey to the struggling people beyond the ocean assurances of fresh sympathy and aid, no sympathy, however, so deep as his, no aid so personal, so disinterested, so steadfast, or so true. Then come the sounds of triumph-of the triumph that he did so much towards achieving; and then, after one and another interval, the joyous congratulations of peace and of growing prosperity. All this and more rises upon the memory, and the very soul within us stirs with responsive gratitude towards him who sleeps there in that quiet spot after a life of love and of service to his race.

Benignant shade! A stranger and yet a friend-a Frenchman and yet a countryman! Linger with us in these latter times of national convulsion. Point to thy sacrifices-to those of thy greater leader, the Father of the Union, and in our breasts, heaving as they are, bid passion subside and brotherhood revive. Point higher, and breathe a nobler command; bow us down before Him who gave us our champions and our fathers, and to whom we owe the energies and the hopes which we are squandering upon partisan purposes and selfish schemes.

ESTHETICS-RUSKIN'S MODERN PAINTERS.

1. Introduction to a Study of Esthetics. By JAMES C. MOFFAT, Professor of Greek in the College of New Jersey. 12mo., pp. 2 .284. 2. The Philosophy of the Beautiful, from the French of VICTOR COUSIN. Translated, with Notes aud an Introduction, by JESSE CATO DANIEL, Chestnut College, 12mo., pp. 185.

3. Modern Painters. By a Graduate of Oxford. New York: Wiley and Halsted. 4. vols., 12mo.

4. Seven Lamps of Architecture. By the same Author and Pub lishers. 1 vol., 12mo.

ART is one thing, Theories of Art another; and a third thing, quite distinct from either, is Criticism. Of these three, Art, or the act, or fact, must precede the science, or theory of the fact, and both the fact and some theory of it must precede any criticism upon it.

Of the three works named at the head of our article, the first two relate chiefly to the Science of Art, and the two latter are eminently works of Criticism. And yet the theories of Art can scarcely be discussed without something of criticism as a means of deducing the principles from the facts; and criticism not only presupposes those principles, but, in the present stage of Esthetical Science at least, necessarily involves some discus sion of them.

There has been for some time felt, a growing want of a comprehensive term that should include all the various branches of this general subject of Art, the productions of the works of Art, and criticism. The tendency has been setting more and more in the direction of the word Esthetics, and indicating that as, on the whole, the most proper and convenient of any that could be devised. But here, as everywhere, the difficulty in finding a name arises from not exactly knowing what is the thing to be named. At first names were undoubtedly arbitrary signsto a considerable extent, at least. But after some progress had been made in naming the first and most obvious things that occurred to men's thoughts, the principle soon obtained, in all the Indo-European languages, of increasing the number of names by a derivation of the new ones from one or more of those already in existence. Hence names become of themselves

significant of the object which they may be used to denote. But in the case before us, what is the object to be denoted? This is the question which Science itself has scarcely yet decided. Do we say that it is Beauty? If so, we must first decide whether beauty is a property of external objects-objects external to the mind, we mean,-or a mere emotion; or, again, is it an intuition? These are fundamental questions, all of them, and questions that must be settled, or assumed as settled, at the very threshold of our Science; and before any name can be fixed upon, that will remain permanently in use, and satisfactory.

Prof. Moffat, after reviewing several theories of Beauty, and considering the objections that may be urged, as he thinks, with force against them all, concludes that Beauty "is not a quality of objects, and must be some condition of the sentient being,an emotion of the observing mind." "Taking this conclusion to be correct," he says, "we shall use the word 'Beauty' to mean an emotion, 'Beautiful' to characterize an object calcu lated to awaken the emotion, and the Beautiful shall be employed to designate the immediate antecedent of the emotion, whatever it may be."-p. 21.

Here, then, we have three terms fixed, and a good deal assumed as settled and fixed, whether right or wrong.

The terms fixed are, "Beauty," as a concrete term used to denote an emotion, or state of the soul; secondly, " Beautiful," as an adjective to designate and distinguish any object which excites the emotion, as when we say-a beautiful rose! a beautiful landscape! and, thirdly, all the objects of which this adjective may be affirmed as a predicate-as when we say of the "beautiful rose," "it [the rose] is beautiful,"-are included in a class-denoted by a class, or general term-" the Beautiful." But manifestly we must have one term more before we can proceed with our discussion, the necessity for which Prof. Moffat appears not to have distinctly seen. We must have an abstract term to denote that quality which we ascribe to an object when we call it beautiful, as from white comes whiteness, from good, goodness, from humble, humility, &c. And the fact is, as we believe, the word beauty is far more frequently used as this abstract term-to denote the quality in objects-than

as Prof. Moffat proposes to use it, namely, as a concrete term -to denote the emotion produced by the beautiful object And, in fact, it is one of the faults of the Professor's most excellent book, that he uses the word "beauty" in both senses throughout its pages, often introducing error and confusion of thought thereby.

But, as we have said, there is a great deal assumed in these definitions, and, as we believe, well and wisely assumed. These assumptions are for the most part, however, directly opposed to Cousin's teachings. With him, beauty is a property of exter nal objects. It is perceived by intuition; and the emotion follows and depends upon the judgment of beauty.

This point requires a little discussion; and unfortunately such is the state of Science that a recurrence to primary and fundamental distinctions seems to be indispensable to any clear comprehension of the subject before us. And even in order to do this, we must refer to an Analysis of the phenomena of the Mental Activity, not to be found, as we believe, exactly as here given, in any of the published works on Psychology or Intellectual Philosophy.

All the phenomena of the Mental Activity are primarily referable to three classes-Sensibility, Intelligence, and Will. The functions of the Sensibility are primarily two-Sensation and Emotion-Sensation when the state of the Sensibility tends to Intelligence--and Emotion when it tends to volition or ac tion. Of the Intelligence there are seven primary classes of functions: (1) Perception [of external objects and by the senses]; (2) Intuition [of unseen and immaterial realities and relations]; (3) Imagination, which pictures to the mind concrete realities, whether actual or only possible; (4) Conception, which forms the abstract ideas of objects and classes of objects, on which Science is based; (5) Memory, which retains the idea. images created by the imagination and the abstract ideas of conception; (6) Judgment, which affirms ideas or conceptions of one another; and (7) Reasoning, which combines judgments into syllogisms and arguments. Of these, the first, second, and third, come directly within the scope of our present subject. The functions of the Will constitute but one primary class namely, volition.