It did not seem as though those unforgotten village of Micheldever, is of Micheldever, is a monument words of his, to which we have referred replete with that expressive poetry which above concerning Flaxman, were likely to be pervades all Flaxman's works. Long might fulfilled. The reproved sculptor had already we gaze on it before exhausting the holy See what force of given to the world compositions which ex- emotions it inspires. celled anything of the kind since Michael meaning is given to that sentence of the 'Deliver us from evil." It Angelo's hand was at work, and there were Lord's Prayer, yet to follow many beautiful poetic creations. may be we have here in marble a transcript Westminster Abbey and our cathedrals, of Flaxman's own struggles with, and trainchurches, and college chapels, have within pling down under foot of evil which was And their hallowed walls monuments to noble carved on the tablet of his own heart. and great men executed by his hand, to one now turn to the other side and see the hope only of which we will now especially direct and joy of the believer in that female figure attention. Not Lord Mansfield's in the looking heavenward, from whose lips we can Abbey, for that in its noble simplicity is imagine we hear the prayer, "Thy kingdom ever before our eyes. We refer to one more come," while angels are attentive to her cry. remote, and hence but little known. In the These " poems in marble" ought certainly church dedicated to St. Mary, in the little to be more generally known. They cannot fail to elevate the minds of all who study | them. How fitting a place for sculpture is a church! The chaste simplicity of animated marble accords well with the solemn purposes of the house of worship. The idea of repose and peace finds a perfect exponent in the still yet almost breathing stone. What a beautiful halo, too, can the sculptor throw around the brow of Death, so that the suspension of life appears but as the sleep we Christians believe it to be! Two other works by Flaxman claim our especial notice—the Shield of Achilles, and the group of Michael and Satan. The shield is quite unique as a work of art. Within a small circle, three feet across, we have a wonderful embodiment of the lengthy but spirited description given by Homer in the Iliad. The old Greek bard himself could not have wished for a more poetical rendering of his words. The model was cast in silver for George IV. It is indeed "A thing so beautiful that who can say When time shall conquer that immortal grace. The colossal group of Michael and Satan was one of Flaxman's latest productions, but bears no trace of decaying power sometimes incident to advancing age. It was ordered by the Earl of Egremont to adorn Petworth House, where it stood when last we saw it. The exalted subject called forth all the enthusiasm of the artist, and was well suited to his sublime genius. In the book of the Revelation we read, " And there was war in heaven, Michael and his angels fought against the dragon." Such are the words of Scripture, a subject almost unspeakable. Yet no one can accuse Flaxman of lowering its solemn grandeur or lessening its spirituality by his embodiment. Satan lies before us cast out, and we do not fail to acknowledge the angelic presence of Michael. It is the last great work of Flaxman, and as such has all the calm majesty we might expect. In 1820, Flaxman was deprived by death of his noble wife, a loss which, to his deli- | cate and sensitive nature, was unbearable. He would willingly then have cast aside his chisel for ever, but Providence willed it not. A few years yet remained of his life; there was work yet for him to do. was carried to its last resting-place in the burying ground of St. Giles-in-the-Fields. His burial was marked by the same simplicity that characterized both his life and works. A few members of the Academy and a few sorrowing friends were the only ones who assembled to hear the burial service read over the mortal remains of that great Englishman. Flaxman lies not among unhonoured dust, for near him is the grave of Andrew Marvel the poet, and the friend of Milton. Nearly twenty years after, Flaxman's contemporary, the Danish sculptor Thorwaldsen, died and was buried, but under circumSilently he rose from his grief to continue stances so dissimilar that we cannot refrain his accustomed labours till the year of his from noticing the contrast thus afforded. In death, 1826. That year his presence was the Cathedral of Copenhagen a fitting tomb The missed in the lecture-room where, since his was prepared for the illustrious Dane. appointment, he had annually delivered his funeral ceremony was one of the most maglectures. The professor's absence raised ap-nificent witnessed in modern times. Since prehensions among the students, who had for many years listened to his instructions. The winter was drawing near, but Flaxman On the had not gained strength to meet it. 7th December his spirit peacefully left this world, scarcely less pure than on the day it entered. Three-score years and ten had been more than reached, and he had done his work well. He who had delivered addresses before the Academy on the death of two | brother artists, Banks and Canova, was now himself to be the subject of a similar address. It was on the 15th of December, a cold and wintry day, that the body of Flaxman the days of Pericles no artist has had such obscurity which surrounded his name during lifetime is now breaking in cloud'ess and enduring fame, which shall shed lustre on his memory for many an age to come. the man. We have been speaking of Flaxman the artist, but have scarcely referred to Flaxman But surely in his works one may read his every-day life distinctly enough. "To the glory of God" is the superscription which seems to be imprinted on all his efforts, a noble sentence indeed. Religion to him was no dead thing, but a living principle influencing life and work. We feel, in looking at many of Flaxman's designs, that they are as it were psalms and hymns and spiritual songs." And his lectures also bear testimony to the devotional tendency of his mind. me 66 Another noticeable trait, and one which proves the true greatness of the man, was his extreme humility and diffidence. While forgetful of his own rits, however, he never withheld praise from a fellow worker, but · encouraged the young aspirant and rejoiced with him who had reached fame. work as a whole we will say but a few words. And first we must remember that his fame rests not on any superiority in the manual part of his art, but on the great intellectual power he displays. There was nothing of a superficial nature in his art. While many are content to charm the eye with fascinating but meaningless forms, he ever strove to embody some great idea of man's nature, attributes, or sympathies. Flaxman was perhaps the first English artist who made poetry and sentiment a distinct end of art. While not neglecting the old Greek masters for ideal form, he expressed in his figures the natural feelings in a way which had scarcely been attempted before. Thus he stands out as a kind of mediator between the realism of modern times and the severe idealism of the Greeks. In the simplicity of his style we find a silent "Deliver us from-evil.” (In the Church of St. Mary, Micheldever.) rebuke to that vain attempt to render sculpture more effective, introduced by Bernini. In all styles of relievo Flaxman especially excelled. The altirelievi at Micheldever and the Shield of Achilles (in which the figures are scarcely raised above the back-ground), are perfect examples in each style. In the use of relievo he found scope for that wonderful facility in grouping figures for which he is distinguished. Flaxman has often. been censured for the unfinished state in which he left many of his works. This scarcely resulted from inability, much less from carelessness, but from the exube than another struggled to its birth. Hence it is not to be wondered at that some of the progeny failed to reach maturity of growth, while others seem scarcely to have got beyond an embryo state. But what we should gain if he had bestowed more manual labour on their finishing, would be little in comparison with the infinite loss of intellectual emanations it would have occasioned. One or the other must have of necessity been sacrificed. Flaxman cannot be blamed for following the dictates of his genius. There is the seal of his mind on all he did, as much on the smallest and least finished sketch as on his completed works. To a handful of clay or a scrap of paper, in a few moments he could impart more animation and true sentiment than is to be found in many a dexterously carved life-size marble figure, or claborately finished painting. Such then, in few words, is the nature of Flaxman's genius-a genius to which Futurity, as it takes the balances in hand, will do justice. Meanwhile Lytton Bulwer's words. concerning him may appropriately conclude this short memoir :-"When," he says, “we become sensible of our title-deeds to renown rance of his transcendent genius. His in that single name, we may look for an poetical mind was so productive that no English public capable of real patronage to sooner had one idea been brought forth | English art, and not till then." Michael and Satan. WEATHER AND MORALS. AMONGST the external conditions that sity is most potent of all in the weather. influence morality, the weather has witness bitter east winds in late Easters hardly received sufficient attention. Bad after a genial outburst of spring; witness drainage, over-crowding, superfluous public- streaming Whitsuntides after a month of houses, all have had ample consideration.cloudless skies. If we could add up in one But the one influence affecting all ages and sum all the profane language, peevish tempers, all classes alike, I mean the pure spirit of needless potations, home quarrels, childish contradictiousness characteristic of our Eng-misdemeanours, and domestic chastisements lish weather, has never been fairly estimated. clearly traceable in the course of one year to There is a spirit of what old nurses call "con-provoking weather, we should find that trairiness" deep seated in things in general; in drawers that will not open when you want them, and stick fast when you want them to shut; in required papers which are always at the bottom of the file when you think they are at the top; in horses that fall lame on the one day out of three hundred and sixtyfive when you most of all want them; in railway trains, which are always delayed when you arrive at the station carly, and leave punctually to the moment when you are half a minute late. But this element of perver moralists and social reformers have here neglected a very potent power of temptation. It may be replied that social reformers deal only with removable evils, and that the weather is hopelessly incorrigible, while moralists can only give us the cheap advice But in these to grin and bear it as we may. times of scientific surprises, the true age of magic and wizardry, the word impossible is rapidly falling out of use, except in the familiar language of conventional exaggeration. No, there is no absolute impossibility about human control of the weather-within limits, of course. We cannot change the order of the seasons, nor reverse their character. To do this would involve a remodelling of the solar system; and great as is my confidence in "the coming race," I do not credit them either with the power to accomplish that, or with the wisdom that would justify even a desire for it. It is not likely that they will ever have a lever to uplift the earth, And roll it in another course." and imprison them in electric cells, to be set to work where they are wanted, the smoke of London and our big towns will become a wanton atrocity, to be blown away for ever by the breath of public indignation. With smoke will go fog, and with fog an immense deal of bronchitis and bad temper. But that is not all. Rain, as well as other elements of weather, is largely dependent on the electric condition of the atmosphere, as indeed is shown by thunder showers. Now, if we can convert every moving force of nature into stored-up electricity, we may accumulate any conceivable amount of it. And if so, who shall set a limit to the extent of our power to adjust the balance of electric currents between earth and air and clouds? It was thought a wonderful achievement of Dr. Franklin to draw down lightning out of the sky. But it will be a still greater thing to put it back again; yet surely by no means impossible. At any rate, be that as it may, in our growing control of the immeasurable force of electricity, there is certainly the "promise and potency" of human dominion over the air as well as over the sea and land. Artificial thunder-shocks may so shake the atmosphere that it will deposit its rain at our bidding, and so we-in the persons of our great-great-grandchildren-may at least be able to secure one fine day at our discretion. The clerk of the weather office will no longer be a myth. Or like many another myth, he will turn out to be a proof of the deep prophetic instinct buried under human ignorance. Like the seven-league boots realised in railways, like Puck's girdle round the earth, now almost achieved by the electric telegraph, he too will be embodied—and I do not envy him his post. Yet that the time may come when, if a whole nation concurs in the desire to have a fine day on a particular date, the matter may be arranged, is quite conceivable. And only think to what an indefinite extent the value of bank holidays, for instance, would be increased if that could be done! Why not? Civilisation certainly affects climate, and climate involves weather. Much as we complain of our capricious skies, they are by no means such dreary tissues of mugginess and mist as are pictured by continental critics. Southern notions about our climate are traditional from Roman times, and were justified then by the prevalent and oppressive humidity of an island densely clothed with wood. But the clearing of our forests has reduced our rainfall, lessened our rivers, dried up our bogs, and diminished our fogs, except of course in London, where they are maintained by exceptional and clearly preventible causes. No doubt the general diminution of humidity is a very different thing from the prevention of rain on any particular day. But we can certainly bring on rain if we only choose to pay the price for it, and perhaps the discharge of rain on one day would prevent its falling on the next. It has been One fine day determinable when wanted noticed, I believe, that almost every great for a national holiday-surely that is not an battle has been followed by a shower of rain; extravagant stretch of presumption. Yet its and the phenomenon is attributed to atmo- influence not only on enjoyment, but on spheric concussions produced by the amount morals, would be enormous. Philanthroof gunpowder exploded. A mock bombard-pists are moved to pity by disease and toil, ment of London from a circle of fifty miles would perhaps be too great a price to pay for clearing the air of rain in preparation for the "Derby;" but processes are cheapened by the progress of discovery, and perhaps the same thing may be effected hereafter at a lower figure. while they overlook the yet more prevalent, stinging, insufferable irritation caused by disappointment of little pleasures. After all it is only a small minority of any class or age that is affected by disease on any one day. Under Factory Acts, and Education Codes, and School Boards, childhood is for the most What may not be expected, for instance, part saved from mechanical toil. But when from this new-born power of electricity which a general holiday rises with a dim wet dawn, we have just succeeded in bottling up like and thirty million pairs of expectant eyes the Arab story-teller's Afrite, for use when-look out on streaming streets or lanes where ever required? If we can catch the wander- all anticipation is drowned in an instant, all ing forces of winds and tides and streams, ages and classes alike, men, women, and |