pensed with. The only indispensable part of the apparatus is, specimens of the materials used in the arts. No description or uncolored drawing can enable the imagination of one not familiar with colors, to conceive of a pigment of a particular shade of blue or yellow, or of Quincy sienite, or bird's eye maple. And, indeed, what more beautiful exhibition could there be to a person interested in the arts, or what more likely to create an interest in them, than a full collection of the native and foreign marbles, granites, and other stones used in building, showing their appearance when rough from the quarry, and when they have received surface and shape from the hand of the artist, and a similar collection of the various kinds of imported and indigenous woods?

At the end of each chapter Dr Bigelow has given a list of the best books upon the subjects of that chapter; and few treatises of high authority have been omitted. This adds much to the value of the work. By means of it an exceedingly valuable library might be collected; and the use of it would, in some measure, supply the want of a catalogue raisonné of a library already formed. We could wish there had been added the titles of some authorities, for hints or materials for lectures on domestic architecture, which we have noticed as among the desiderata. The Italian writers on Architecture would doubtless afford something to supply the deficiency. The second volume of the Civil Architecture of Milizia, a work which ought to be given to our language, would furnish at least abundant suggestions on the subject.

We trust it is unnecessary to add to what has been said anything to recommend Dr Bigelow's book. It ought to be in the hands of every scholar, and of every gentleman of taste or leisure, and we hope it will lead to a more general attention to the arts as objects of liberal curiosity.

Every educated person may find time, at some period of his life, to gain an intimate knowledge of some one of the useful or elegant arts, or of some branch of science or of literature. In a great majority of cases, this can be done consistently with that devotion to the peculiar studies of a profession, which is the only foundation of eminent success. A comprehensive and liberal mind will regard, this occasional relaxation as a want. Instead of diminishing the vigor of its action, it will in the highest degree contribute to it. From the delights of its voluntary pursuit, it will return to the necessary duties of daily VOL. XXX.-No. 67. 46

occurrence with renewed animation. Some such recreation, indeed, is essential to the health and freedom of the mind, and will give it strength for higher and more energetic action.

In the desultory habits of reading, which are now too prevalent, relaxation is sought for in an endless variety of pursuits. Few give their attention long enough to any single object, aside from their profession, to obtain the commanding knowledge of it which will enable them to enlighten others, or to acquire a strong interest in it themselves. The choice of the afternoon's conversation, or the evening's reading, is left to the accident of the last review or gazette, or the latest novel. Years and lives of leisure are thus wasted without a purpose, and without enjoyment, by men who, by giving the hours of relaxation to a single object, might easily gain such a mastery of it, as to prepare a fund of entertainment for their friends, and for themselves a delightful resource against the monotony of daily cares, and the heavier but hardly less certain oppression of disappointment.

This resource may, indeed, be found in almost any pursuit which has been illustrated by human genius, or which opens an avenue into any part of the boundless field of natural science; no matter whether it be the history of Tuscan literature or the infinitesimal calculus, the language of the Mohawks or the habits of the ant, Greek history or the history of optics; any one, pursued far enough, becomes a subject of great and constant interest. But the successful study of many of these supposes a degree of leisure, or peculiarity of taste, or conjuncture of circumstances, which it falls to the lot of few to possess. It is not so with several of the arts. A knowledge of the history and principles and some skill in the practice of painting, drawing, or sculpture, or a complete acquaintance with the theoretical principles, without the practice, of architecture, mechanics, or any other of the useful arts, might be acquired in almost any situation; and their number is such as to leave free action to every variety of taste. Let each individual of a number of gentlemen who are in the habit of meeting together to exchange thoughts, select thus, and pursue, during the leisure hours of a single year, some one favorite object, and their meetings can hardly fail to become greatly more pleasant to all, when each shall bring to the common stock something which belongs to himself alone, than they are likely

to be, while, pursuing one course, their ideas and sources of information are nearly the same.

Nor is it only as contributing to the entertainment of social circles and the luxury of private study, that the apportionment. we speak of is important. Without it the fine arts in this country can never be successfully cultivated and made to produce anything like the beautiful models of which the older countries in Europe are full. They have here no imperial or ducal patrons, no Juliuses or Leos, to lavish upon them the revenues of empires and of centuries; and may they never have a Pericles to appropriate the contributions of independent federal states to the ornament of a single city or a single state. The patrons of the fine arts among us are legislative or municipal assemblies, and parishes, and their organs are com

mittees.

In this state of things our only hope for the advancement of the arts is in the cultivation of individual taste, in the gradual formation of a love for the arts, which shall render a few at least in each state and in each town so far distinguished, that it shall seem ridiculous even to a popular assembly to pass them over, in the choice of committees, in favor of the demagogues, by whom, in other concerns, they are often so willing to be led. Then only shall we cease to see public buildings curtailed of their wings, and left to support their dome as they can without them; or slender Greek pillars, of a light order, crushed beneath the weight of an enormous Gothic spire; or solemn gray walls of eternal granite enclosing the tawdry ornaments appropriate to a village assembly-room.

Wherever a pure taste in the arts exists, we see it producing its natural effects. The few instances of beautiful public buildings in our towns, can easily be referred to the influence of some single mind. It is only necessary to render, among educated men, and particularly among men of wealth and leisure, the cultivation of the fine arts more general, to make the violation of good taste in building, painting, and music, as rare as it now is common.

What has been said in regard to the cultivation of the arts, is almost equally true in regard to the exact and the natural sciences. In all there is a want of concentration of individual effort, of the apportionment of the parts of the wide domain of science to single proprietors. There should, it is true, be a union of action; but the purpose for which the cul

tivators of the different districts should assemble, should be to give common facilities, and to enrich themselves and each other by the exchange of their separate commodities.

The publication of Dr Bigelow's book will contribute to the diffusion of a better taste, by making known the essential principles of the arts, and thus preparing for the circulation of larger and more particular treatises. It will do it no less by laying before the young inquirers something like a map of the various regions of pleasant knowledge, at a time when the affections are unoccupied, and

'The world is all before them where to choose.'

ART. V. Report of the Secretary of the Navy to the President of the United States, December 1, 1829.

E

We know of no work of art, no production of human genius and human power, that in any manner rivals, or may even be named in comparison with, the sailing ship. Nor can we, in all the various modes of existence resulting from modern civilization, find any social position so strange, so unnatural, and yet so full of interest, as that which is offered by a ship of war. How singular the sensations of him who gazes for the first time upon this artificial wonder! His awe at the immense proportions of the huge machine mingle with astonishment at the celerity with which it traverses the water by the aid of its wide-spread and snowy wings, at the ready obedience with which, at the will of a pigmy, like himself, it changes its course, advances towards the wind, retreats before it, or, entering the port, suddenly becomes still and stationary as the surrounding hills, while the clouds of canvass, which, an instant before, whitened the heavens, disappear, as if by magic, from his view. As he approaches, the awe excited by its growing size and formidable defences, keeps pace with the pleasure which he feels in finding these qualities blended with so much of symmetry and beauty. The smooth side broken only at regular intervals by the protruding cannon, the graceful curves of bow and stern, and the nice proportions of the tapering spars, as they rise in exact and Corinthian harmony, each sustained by its system of stays and rigging, in turn attract and gratify his eye.

And when at length he stands upon the deck, perplexed and amazed at the strange sights and sounds that surround him, his ears pierced by the shrill whistle of the boatswains, or grated by their rough bellow, rising above the din of the multitude, in voices which he can scarce recognise for those of his fellow men; when suddenly he beholds this scene of more than Babel confusion pass at the command of an individual, first into a death-like silence, and then into a movement as concerted as of a single body yielding to its inward will; and finally turns to survey and scrutinize the various arrangements for the comfortable accommodation of so many inhabitants, for destruction, and for defence,-no spectacle can have equal power to overwhelm him with wonder and admiration.

There is, indeed, much that is curious in a man-of-war. Each ship offers in itself a perfect community, self-existent and self-dependent; entirely unlike anything to be met with on shore. In fact, the land does not more differ from the water, than life ashore does from life afloat. One of the very first things which strike landsmen when they enter a man-ofwar, is the entire restraint, nay, absolute surrender of volition in all except one of those embarked; the stern superiority of him who orders, and the mechanical and unqualified submission of those who obey. A ship, indeed, with its captain, officers, and seamen, forms no imperfect miniature of a monarchy, with its king, nobles, and third estate. If there be any difference, it is that the gradations are more decided, the despotism more complete. This state of things results less from the subordination necessary and common to all military establishments, than from the peculiar difficulties and dangers attending naval life, which do not allow each man to remain, even in immaterial things, master of his actions, but, inasmuch as the fate of all depends upon the conduct of each, requires a harmony of action only to be obtained by the most complete subordination to a single will.

These peculiarities render the economy of a man-of-war very interesting to landsmen, and the subject, well treated, is susceptible of much attraction. In Roderick Random' we have a good and true description of naval life. The Pilot' and 'Red Rover' of our countryman give us a more general, and at the same time more graphic picture of sea affairs; no author has more completely mastered the mysterious sources of interest that hover over the wanderers of the deep. With