sheltered at all, by branches of laurel and other trees. On the decline of Greece, and its conquest by the Romans, the arts appear to have been transferred to the conquerors; but among that hardy and warlike race it made little progress before the reign of Augustus. Under the auspices of that munificent monarch it rapidly attained to almost as great perfection as in the favoured country of the arts in its best days, and the "eternal city" owes much of its present estimation to the noble structures erected by him and his successors. With Rome, however, the art decayed, and was overwhelmed in the general confusion and oblivion of learning, art, and science.

The existing monuments in Great Britain which are supposed to be anterior to the Roman invasion of this island are classed, whether correctly or not we shall not here enquire, under the general term Druidical or Celtic. The most remarkable of these monuments, both for preservation and arrangement, is Stonehenge, on Salisbury Plain, in Wiltshire. Here we find stones of very large dimensions, placed upright in the ground, and forming a series of concentric circles. They are not merely rude masses, like those of Avebury and Silbury Hill, but they have evidently undergone some sharping and rubbing down, so as to form tolerably regular parallelopipedons. We here observe also two stones placed upright, like posts or pillars, and another large stone placed over them, like an architrave or lintel; the lintel is also secured by means of mortises and tenons. All this indicates certainly a regular principle of construction. The attention of the Saxons in our own country, probably about the eighth century, was excited by the remains of edifices raised by the Romans during their residence in England. These, in their newly erected churches, they aspired to imitate; but their workmen, ignorant of the principles which guided the architects of those splendid ruins, produced only the general outlines of their patterns; and those clumsy forms continued to be practised, with little alteration, till the beginning of the twelfth century. But now, as the tumult excited by the invasion subsided, and the genius of the nation improved, a taste for the fine arts began to show itself, and architecture assumed a different and novel aspect. Instead of tamely treading in the steps of their predecessors, the architects of those times devised a style as scientific as it was grand, and as beautiful as new. The pointed or Saxon style, usually termed Gothic, is peculiarly fitted for ecclesiastical edifices; and the long-drawn aisle and fretted screen, with its dim and shadowy light, are admirably adapted for the purposes of devotion. From the time of Edward III., there was a visible deterioration in the style of English architecture, which lost itself in a profusion of ornaments, more attention being paid to the details than to the general forms of the buildings.

Purely English architecture made but little progress during the reign of Elizabeth and the early part of that of James; and we are indebted to Inigo Jones for the introduction of the Italian style into our edifices.*

Sir Christopher Wren, Kent, and Wyatt, are the only modern architects who have left

period the general school of arts and letters. From Homer, whose poems Phidias had deeply studied, he drew images of greatness, which he afterwards moulded with earthly materials in a kindred spirit; and the mind of Phidias was adorned with all the knowledge which could be useful to his profession. He was also skilled in history, poetry, geometry, and the optics of that day; and, whilst Pericles commanded the treasury at Athens and the allied states, he had the means of giving full scope to the efforts of his genius. In the art of forming statues of bronze, both for the number and excellence of his works, Phidias was without a rival. In the production of ivory statues also he stood alone; nor did he disdain to work in the meaner materials of wood and clay, or to execute articles of the smallest mechanism. Among the most celebrated of the works which Phidias executed with his own hands was a statue of Minerva, which adorned the interior of the Parthenon.

* This distinguished English architect was born in 1572, and apprenticed to a joiner; but, having distinguished himself in landscape painting, he was sent to Italy by the earl of Pembroke, who was at the expense of his education. His principal work, the Banqetting-house at Whitehall, still remains an enduring monument of his genius, and the style that he first introduced into this country.

works which will outlive the periods of their erection. The greatest work of the latter gentleman, in Gothic architecture, was Fonthill Abbey, the merits of which building, when we consider that the architect had no model to work from, are truly extraordinary. The purest taste formerly reigned throughout the whole of this splendid structure; and Mr. Britton, in his graphic delineations, has presented to succeeding professors a legacy of incalculable value.

We have seen that the remains of Grecian architecture and statuary, which have escaped the ravages of time, and descended to us in somewhat of a perfect state, continue to be viewed with enthusiastic admiration, even after every attempt which the most skilful modern artists have made to rival or exceed them. Their basso-relievos, their coins, their gems and cameos, are not of less admirable execution; and there is much reason to believe that in painting they were not less eminent, although, from the perishable nature of the specimens of this branch of the arts, but few models have descended to us, and none of these probably of much intrinsic value. This leads us to the connection which must of necessity subsist between the arts of painting and architecture, as well as sculpture. Among the ancient paintings employed in architectural edifices which have reached modern times, the principal have been some specimens of fresco, rescued from the ruins of Adriana, Herculaneum, and Pompeii, on which it cannot be supposed that much graphic skill would be employed. To these we have to add the Aldrobandine nuptials, the figures on the pyramid of Cestius, a figure of Rome on the palladium, and some similar performances, which we cannot suppose to have been works of the highest value. It would, therefore, be unreasonable, from the evidence which we possess, to refuse to the early architects that pre-eminence in painting which they undoubtedly possessed in the corresponding branches of the arts of design. On this subject Sir Joshua Reynolds, with truth, remarks that "there can be no doubt but that the same correctness of design was required from the painter as the sculptor; and if the same good fortune had happened to us in regard to their paintings, to possess what the ancients themselves esteemed their masterpieces, which is the case in sculpture, I have no doubt but we should find their figures as correctly drawn as the Laocoon, and probably coloured like Titian. What disposes me to think higher of their colouring than any remains of ancient painting will warrant is the account which Pliny gives of the mode of operation used by the celebrated Apelles. In regard to their power of giving peculiar expression, no correct judgment can be formed; but we cannot well suppose that men who were capable of giving that general grandeur of character, which so eminently distinguishes their works in sculpture, were incapable of expressing peculiar passions.*

The causes of the remarkable pre-eminence to which the ancients attained in the fine arts, particularly in sculpture, statuary, and architecture, form an interesting subject for speculation. One obvious advantage of the antique imitation of the human form arose from the frequent opportunities which the artists enjoyed of viewing nature either entirely undraped or veiled only with light and graceful clothing. At the gymnasia, or public places where the youths performed the various feats of running, wrestling, boxing, and leaping, they had an opportunity of studying the finest examples of the natural and graceful play of the muscles, and had exhibited before them every variety of posture and attitude, with a dignity and expression which cannot now be obtained. Another essential advantage which the ancient works of art possess over modern productions is that they were generally works of much longer time. Among the ancients, it was thought a great deal for one sculptor to have executed four or five statues in the course of his life; hence the high finish of the most

• See Sir Joshua Reynold's notes upon Fresnoy.

celebrated marbles of antiquity, which bears the minutest inspection, and the trial of every different light. It was likewise no small advantage to possess an unoccupied field, in which the exertions of genius were unfettered and free from the reproach of imitation. A modern artist labours under the disadvantage of a comparison with the fine models of antiquity, which, while he despairs of surpassing, he is compelled, by the tyranny of taste, in some measure to copy. Nothing can more cruelly damp the ardour of invention, or check the generous emulation to excel. We ought not, however, to allow our admiration of the antique to transport us too far, or to blind us to the faults which appear even in the statues of Greece and Rome, while we refuse a just tribute of applause to the exertions of our most esteemed modern artists. There is undoubtedly the greatest dignity and beauty in many specimens of the antique which we possess; but sometimes this is obtained at the expense of animation and just expression. "The ancient sculptors," says Sir Joshua Reynolds, "neglected to animate the features, even with the general expression of the passions. Of this, the group of boxers is a remarkable instance; they are engaged in the most animated action with the greatest serenity of countenance. This frequent deficiency, in ancient sculpture, could proceed from nothing but a habit of inattention to what was considered as comparatively immaterial."

It is said that Michael Angelo, desirous of exposing the undue predilection in which the classical antique was held in his time, formed with great care a statue of Cupid, which he buried in a spot where he was sure it would be found, after having broken off one of its

The Cupid having been dug up, all the world pronounced it to be an antique, and resounded with its praises; till the modern artist having produced the arm, which fitted exactly to the defective trunk, the connoisseurs were compelled, however reluctantly, to acknowledge their blunder. An intimate acquaintance with ancient sculpture and architecture implies something more than a skilful discrimination between what is truly beautiful and classical and what is fantastic or deformed. It implies, also, a knowledge of the different styles of the artists, the manners of the various ages, and the different kinds of materials on which the various arts have been practised, whether wood, clay, ivory, precious stones, marble, flint, or metal. The study of the antique has served to prove that the ancients had attained to wonderful skill in the arts of metallurgy, pottery, gem-engraving, founding, moulding, &c.; and in many respects seem rather to have excelled than to have fallen short of the most ingenious productions of the modern workshop. It was said by the late Mr. Wedgewood, who was doubtless the most skilful manufacturer of porcelain of modern times, that the celebrated Barberini vase afforded evidence of an art of pottery among the ancients, of which we are as yet ignorant even of the rudiments.

Some of the most beautiful works of modern sculpture have been employed to ornament the new palace in St. James's Park, as well as in the various public statues which have been erected in the squares of the metropolis; and it is gratifying to observe the growing taste which exists for blending architecture with the other branches of the fine arts. Our space will not however permit of our pursuing this matter further, and an estimate of the comparative degrees of excellence obtained by ancient and modern artists will be found under the articles FINE ARTS and Sculpture.

We may now proceed to trace the history of our acquaintance with the mechanical properties of the air or atmosphere which surrounds our globe. This is a very interesting branch of human knowledge, and as important to the chemical as to the pneumatic philosopher. Some of the properties of the air in which we live and breathe were weil known to the ancient philosophers. Thus Aristotle says that all the elements have weight, with the exception of fire; adding that a bladder inflated with air will weigh more than when quite empty. Plutarch and Strobæus quote Aristotle as teaching that the weight of air is between that of fire and

earth; and the latter philosopher himself quotes Empedocles as attributing the act of respiration to the pressure of the air, by which it insinuates itself into the lungs. Hero of Alexandria, in his work entitled Spiritalia, applies the principle of the elasticity of the air to produce and explain various effects, in such a way as sufficiently to convince us that he was no stranger to the properties of atmospheric air; and Ctesibius, adopting the principle of its elasticity, constructed wind-guns, which afterwards passed for modern inventions. There is, however, some difference between the ancient and modern air-guns. In that of Ctesibius, for example, the ball was not immediately exposed to the action of the air, but was impelled by the longer arm of a lever, while the air acted on the shorter; but the principle of operation is the same in both, and shows clearly that the elasticity of common air, if it could not be accurately measured, was at least well known at that period. Hero, who is now generally considered as the first who employed high-pressure steam as a prime mover, describes several ingenious pneumatic instruments. The effects which are now known to result from the weight and elasticity of the atmosphere were for a long time attributed to the imaginary principle of what was called "nature's abhorrence of a vacuum," an explanation which does not appear to have been called in question till the time of Galileo. This philosopher had studied the operation of a sucking-pump, which had been erected to raise water out of a cistern; and he was surprised to find that when the water descended to a certain point the pump ceased to act, and continued to lose its power by any further subsidence of the fluid. After reflecting for some time on this singular fact, Galileo attributed the rising of the water to the attraction between the piston and the fluid particles. Dr. Young says that "before Galileo's time, it was generally supposed that water was raised in a suckingpump on account of the impossibility of the existence of a vacuum; if, however, a vacuum had been impossible in nature, the water would have followed the water to all heights, however great but Galileo found that the limit of its ascent was about thirty-four feet, and concluded that a column of this height was the measure of the magnitude of the atmospheric pressure."

It occurred to Torricelli, in the year 1643, that, whatever might be the cause by which a column of water thirty-four feet high is sustained above its level, the same force would sustain a column of any other fluid which weighed as much as that column of water on the same base; and hence he concluded that, as quicksilver is about fourteen times as heavy as water, it could not be kept up at a greater height than twenty-nine or thirty inches. He then made the experiment still called after his name. He provided himself with a glass tube, about three feet long, and sealed it hermetically at one end, and, having filled it with mercury, he closed it at the open end with his finger, and inverted it in a basin of mercury. Upon withdrawing his finger, he had the satisfaction of seeing the column of mercury descend and settle at the height of between twenty-nine and thirty inches in the tube. He was still, however, not aware that the phenomenon was to be attributed to the pressure of the atmosphere, although after a little reflection he fell upon that explanation; and, after he had fully convinced himself of the truth of his hypothesis, it is said that, with a feeling of generosity of which we have few examples, he expressed his regret that it had not fallen to the lot of his master, Galileo, to have completed a discovery of which he had first laid the foundation.

The invention of the air-pump is the most important feature in the history of pneumatics, and Otto Guericke has justly been considered its first constructor; yet it was our own countryman Boyle who turned the instrument to useful purposes. In the hands of Otto Guericke the air-pump was a pleasing pneumatic toy but in those of Boyle it became a valuable philosophical instrument. The value of modern mechanical improvements in this branch of science will, however, be best understood by graphic views of both pumps: the

first an accurate sketch of the apparatus as it was employed by Otto Guericke, and the other representing the improved apparatus as it is now constructed.

Otto Guericke formed a vacuum by fitting a piston in a barrel, which he immersed in a tub of water, and then raising the piston he formed an imperfect vacuum beneath it. In his subsequent experiments he placed the apparatus on a tripod stand, and discontinued the use of the water. It may be proper to state that motion was in the first instance given to the piston by a stirrup beneath. Now with this apparatus he performed many pleasing experiments, but never converted it to any really philosophical purposes.

The improved air-pump has two pistons made to fit accurately in brass barrels, and motion is given to them by a lever and two racks, so that when one is raised the other is depressed. By this beautiful mechanical arrangement the pressure of the atmosphere is equal in both barrels, and, when the pump is put in operation, a child's force will accomplish as much as could be effected by a strong man with the old apparatus.

The barometer is a pneumatic instrument which may certainly be said to date its history from the Torricellian experiment. Mariotte in France, and Boyle and Townley in England, found from experiment that the density of the atmosphere was proportional to the compressing weight; but this law is true only when the temperature of the air remains constant. Attention, however, was not then paid to this important restriction, which in fact could not be indicated by experiments where the compressed volumes of air differed but little from each other in respect to temperature. The law of compression being otherwise known, Halley made use of it for calculating the decrease of density in the beds of the atmosphere at different altitudes, and thus led to the mathematical formulæ by means of which the difference of altitude of two places may be calculated from the heights of mercury in the barometer observed at each of them. Newton, in his Principia, perfected Halley's theory, by showing that regard was to be paid to the diminution of gravity according as the distance from the surface of the earth increased. But, what is very remarkable in so scrupulous an observer of the laws of nature, he also, as well as Halley, omitted to consider the effect of the variations of heat, and of the progressive decrease of the temperature and density of the different strata of the atmosphere. The barometrical formulæ thus obtained, without the correction which renders them applicable to all temperatures, could only furnish a very imperfect ap. proximation; and therefore philosophers and mathematicians who endeavoured to apply them found that they succeeded only in a few instances, and that generally the results seemed to be subject to various errors, which appeared to follow no uniform law.