judgment of Canova-having long sedulously practised his | 5. Who searches for beauty in nature and does not find it? Do not be discouraged-study, and it will be found. It is every thing to know how to search for it. 6. Would you avoid the fatigue of great research, and always proceed in a sure way, I will tell you how to do-Try first to become skilful in the principles of your art. That is, Having therefore, daily opportunities of conversing with learn design-Anatomy, and Dignity; feel the graces-acthe great sculptor; and being in his perfect confidence, inquire an understanding and taste for true beauty. Let it matters relating to his art, of which he delighted to speak; move your passions. You must obtain all these attitudes and being present at discussions in which he was often en-of your art in an eminent degree, and then you will have gaged; his sayings were committed to writing, and treasured the short road which you are in search of. When at first up in order to aid these reminiscences. Often I tried to view, you find a part, superlatively beautiful and graceful, prevail on him to present his ideas to the public, but he that is enough,-for you can form the other parts in agreeconstantly objected, saying, "that advice,-precepts and ment and correspondence, with that subtility, and make rules were all well, but they were not enough,-example all harmonize, and thus have a whole, beautiful and perwas better than the most definite rules would be without it." fect. But this you tell me is difficult. It is indeed difficult, He added, I "execute my best,-I am not a lecturer, nor and therefore the profit of study; and when you become would I for any treasure ever become exposed to the vexa-distinguished in your art, it will not appear difficult, but tion and chagrin of contending or disputing with a parcel seem easy. of irritable pedants." He said, besides, "he did not trust too much to his own discernment and observation, but they were such as were elicited by feeling and meditation on the Arts, and experience the great master; but he gave his opinions without wishing to force their adoption upon others, as they were the result of his private judgement. In order not to suffer his maxims to be lost, I have here collected them into a little code; as they abound in wisdom and much that goes to advance the good of the fine arts. They flowed from the author's conversation only, were given without arrogance, and were not attempted to be imposed as infallible rules. 1. As Canova was an ardent promoter of the Arts, he lamented to see an immense number of young men, daily dedicating themselves to their pursuit, and observed: "It cannot but happen, that most of these must become poor and unhappy. For how can Italy, and the world, already full even to satiety of works of Art, give support to so many Alumni? The worst of it is, they can only arrive at obscure and humble mediocrity; for excellence cannot be reached by the many, though all labor to attain it. The Academy therefore, ought carefully to note the genius of each, and where no extraordinary talent for the Arts appears, they should be advised to apply their time and talents to some civil occupation, in a line where they can succeed in becoming useful; for the majority must fail, and produce works of little merit and bad style, by which the Arts are injured and the youths ruined." 2. Formerly, he said, a work was not thought beautiful if it had any defects. The most sublime works are not free from faults, and are still beautiful; besides the beauty which strikes the mere intellect, they have the beauty of inspiration, which captivates the senses and triumphs over the heart. They possess the sentiment-the passion-within themselves-they have life in them, and cause tears, joy or emotion at the sight of them, and this is true beauty. 3. It is my study, he used to say, to obtain my end by the most short and simple ways, as the blow which comes straightest does most execution. Hence, I do not wish to employ vain ornaments and amusing distractions. 4. He taught that we must imitate nature, and not any particular master, although that master should have succeeded in imitating nature. 7. In civil society, he observed, I have always seen the graceful man preferred to the severe and austere. Grace has an omnipotent charm, and attraction, which overcomes all hearts. Recollect, the same happens in the Arts. Acquire grace, and you will please. But mind, that as in society, he who affects grace much, and does not possess it, becomes awkward and ridiculous;-so the artist who studies grace too much, instead of pleasing, is sure to disgust. Keep to the just and discreet measure;--and this I tell you-you must feel in your soul the innate principles of gracefulness, and beauty. If you are cold in this essential particular, cease your efforts to acquire it-I take you for lost,-and give you up in despair. You must follow the austerity of your art, for even in this, there is glory to be won. 8. And the temper which I advise you to obtain, in regard to gracefulness, I would also inculcate with respect to expression. The whole contour, always properly adjusted, and composed, shows proof of your temperance of feeling, and the subdued repose of your breast. If you manifest great effort, it will be improper, and not succeed. It was this rule which gave to Raphael the palm over all other imitators of beauty. 9. Sculpture, I heard him say one morning, in conversation with some eminent artists, is only the language [among the many languages,] by which the eloquence of artists expresses nature, and this is a heroic language, as the tragic is the language of the poets. And as the terrible is the first element of the tragic language, so, nudity is that of the language of the statuary. And as the terrible in the Epipoa tragical, expresses gods, in their most sublime manner, so nakedness in that of the statuary, represents gods in their most chosen and beautiful forms. This is the convention which exists in Arts and in letters, in order to effect sublime execution. While invention and disposition, seek to unite strictly nature and reason, both in elocution and execution, it is agreed to lay aside all vulgar ways, and to find out and employ a sublime eloquence, composed of the most beautiful which exists in nature, embellished by the most perfect in the ideal conceptions. 10. Wealth, he said, could not be more fairly acquired, than by the fine Arts; as every one could exist without purchasing Study with your own eyes, and especially study the an-such works-they are merely luxuries, and are bought vocients. The Greeks, more than any other people, saw and luntarily and spontaneously by those who have the means to imitated nature with the greatest perfection. expend in this way, and no price put on a work can be If it become necessary to imitate a master, as in paint-called excessive, because, nobody is compelled to buy. ing, judge of what is best in him as you would of naturethat is, choose the most beautiful parts, and leave those which are not so perfect. Take care not to imitate the faults of his works, however great the author may have been. 11. Rule and measure, he observed, are immutable, when they are just; and so they should be for an artist who is not very confident of himself; but an eminent artist sometimes departs from rules; which shows the highest sagacity. In this the artist only follows the maxim of Aristotle, in which he says, that in some cases, it is better to prefer a false simili- | work and not to write ;" and how absurd that mere literary tude that is agreeable, to one that is true, if it should be dis-amateurs should set up for judges in the Arts. The weakgusting. The Niobe for example, has on a bathing chemise, ness and folly of such people, create a market for what is and so have many other ancient statues. This is not truth- badly executed, by artists who have neither genius nor but if the artist had followed the truth, he would have aban-talents. doned his art. He by this conceals defects, or what would 18. When my works are attacked, said he, even by envy, not be so agreeable to the sight; he therefore avails himself I attend to the criticisms and examine their correctness, not of a falsehood, to present a beautiful likeness-as under that with anger or disdain. The fault-finding which prevails, is bathing dress, which adheres to the person, the artist can inseparable from the human condition. I distrust myself make the forms appear, and display at the same time the too, and know the great difficulty of producing a work without excellence of his art. great defects. Yet I am perfectly convinced, that if an arm, a body, a leg, or a head of one of my statues, were dug up, and were thought an antique, many would sing its Thus, to express the strength of Hercules, Glicon gave him a bull neck-thus, to make Apollo Belvidere appear more quick and active,-the Greek artist gave him one shoul-praises as a miracle. Antiquity has its privileges. How der a little more elevated, than when relieved by drapery, and made his thighs and legs somewhat longer than his body. This boldness, however, is not an infraction of rules which results from ignorance, but is the science of the Arts, in knowing the right point of view, and the proper effect; from this flows the philosophy and judgment of the artist. unjust men are! They only open their eyes to the beauty of the ancients and spy out only the defects of the moderns, and I remember also to have read this complaint in Tacitus. 19. When he had finished a work, he still continued to doat on it—to caress it—and when asked why he did not leave it alone, he replied, there is nothing more precious to me than 12. He used to say, that the principal element in sculpture, time, and every body knows how economical I am of it; was the beauty of the most perfect design and excellence of yet, when I am about finishing a work, and after it is done, form. The remark applied to painting might not compre- I wish to bring it often before me if possible; as fame is not hend-coloring-the free and liberal touching invention-derived from the number of works, but from a few done effect-the scene:—but take away design and form from well. I try to find in my material a something, I know not sculpture, and what have you left? The marble only. what, of spirituality which gives it soul. It is necessary I 13. He said, we could see how important it was that sculp-should add to it intellect and passion, and ennoble the form ture should be eminently beautiful, from the fact, that a sin- with inspiration. I could wish to come as near as possible gle figure triumphs forever, as a single word convinces to life, but I do not succeed. and moves. Alas! then, if that figure, or that word be wanting. 14. Learn anatomy well, was his advice to his pupils, but be not too much devoted to it. It is true that the arts ought to imitate nature: here, also, we follow nature, not making the parts too evident, but concealing them by an ingenious veil of fat and skin, presenting a pleasing outside, which is gently modulated, and which falls, and winds along without projecting. 15. He advised young painters to take the pencil early in their hands, which practice made so many eminent men in the Venetian school; and in the Academy of naked figures, he wished the pupils to imagine when painting, that the bodies were alive, as this, he said, would give life to their paintings. This, he said, would make the works more like the select chief works, from which they were taken. Then they would try to see nature, with the same eyes and the same pleasure that she was seen by the ancient masters who executed the incomparable works. This advice was always given to the young pupils who had just begun their studies in the Arts. 16. "It is a fault that this Nymph does not speak," said an Englishman-and "of that Hebe, that she does not ascend in the air. Where is the prodigy or miracle of Pygmalion, that we may be fully satisfied?" "You deceive yourself," said he, "you would then have no satisfaction or surprise. I do not presume in my works to deceive any one. It is known that they are marble, but they are mute and motionless but it is enough, that I have overcome in part my material with art, and to have approximated the truth. If my works were truth, what praise would I have for my labor? I am glad they know it is marble, since the difficulty makes them excuse its defects I only aspire to an illusion." 17. He used often to repeat that fortunately, but few artists knew how to explain with dignity and propriety, their ideas by writing; otherwise, what great wars we should have among the votaries of the Arts, and how much time would be employed in decapitation of works! Those artists who have written much, have always been men of mediocrity. 'Bisogna operare e non iscrivere"--"It is necessary to 20. When I apply myself to the study of the great Greek exemplars, it appears to me, said he, that to obtain the manner they had in execution, is indispensable that we should examine their maxims, discern the ends they propound, their means and their principles, and in fine to feel and be as much as possible, as they were-nothing short of this can make us so select, and at the same time so true. (To be continued.) MUSIC. “της μουσικῆς δέσον κλέος ἐστὶν ουδεὶς ἀχνοεῖ." I. I seem to lie with drooping eyes, Half longings and half memories, With trembling shades and whirling gleams, In song and light, Are ever, ever flowing; While the wind, if we list to the rustling grass Seems scarcely to be blowing; Of Achelous' silver-voiced daughters, Is dreamily half heard- II. And now beside a cataract I lie, and through my soul, Through the darkness all compact, Downward from its floating home, Lighting up the precipice, And the never-resting foam, Now listening to a woman's tone, Alone, because our souls are one- Lest I should break the spell I love- Who worship round the Throne. Now faintly heard and far, As if the spirit's ears Had caught the anthem of a star And wondrous shadows pour in streams As of voices doom foretelling To the silent ear of night; Of all sweet sounds it is- I have drunk of the drink of immortals, I have drunk it through mine ears I can flutter, I can rise; DESULTORY SPECULATOR. NO. VI. AMERICAN INDIANS. H. P. "Lo! the poor Indian, whose untutored mind, Sees God in clouds and hears him in the wind.' This wild, but noble and unhappy race, is rapidly becoming extinct. At the discovery of America, the Indian tribes were numerous and powerful. They occupied the country from north to south, from east to west-living in a state of nature and supporting themselves by hunting and fishing. Their wigwams were extended along the banks of the noblest streams, or enveloped in the gloom of primeval forests. Their origin is buried in fable, and their traditions are obscure, fabulous and unsatisfactory. They are evidently, however, of Tartar stock-but how or when they came, is involved in inextricable darkness. Their vices are those of all savages. They are ferocious, blood-thirsty and vindictive, but their virtues are equally prominent; they are hospitable, brave and true to their word. Of the numerous and warlike tribes that formerly owned and peopled this extensive continent, but few now exist. They are rapidly passing away into the stream of oblivion, and soon nothing will remain of them, but the simple record of their past existence and glory. Where are the descendants of Powhatan, the father of Pocahontas? Alas! they This called have sought it. I have fully glutted my vengeance. Who is there to mourn for Logan? Not one." The poet Campbell, has made his Oneida chief He left of all my tribe are blotted from the face of the earth, or swallow-1" in the veins of any living creature. ed up in the remnants of other tribes. What a on me for revenge. noble and generous action was that of Pocahontas! Where, in the history of civilization, can you find a more disinterested act of generosity and sympathy? Of the Indian posterity of Powhatan, not a Jutter the same affecting sentiment: trace remains-but Pocahontas, the amiable, courageous and noble child of nature, mingled her Nor man nor child, nor thing of living birth: blood with that of a European, and her posterity No! not the dog that watched my household hearth, still live to boast of and glory in the virtues of her Escaped that night of blood, upon our plains. whose story, it is feared, will be regarded as a roAll perished! I alone am left on earth! To whom nor relative nor blood remains, The late John Randolph, one of the most No! not a kindred drop that runs in human veins!" eminent parliamentary orators of this country, is said to be a lineal descendant of that Princess in Poor Logan fulfilled his melancholy destiny by the sixth degree. The act to which I have alluded sharing the fate of his family and kindred. He is has been attempted to be preserved and perpetuated said to have been murdered by a party of whites, by the genius of the sculptor, in a groupe in basso not long after he had delivered the eloquent and relievo, occupying a parcel of stone over the wes-affecting speech from which I have made the extern door of the Rotundo of the Capitol at Wash- tract above. But ninety now remain of his once ington. The artist, Capillano, has, however, in powerful tribe. mance. pursuit of the antique, failed to give the features The Delawares, another numerous and warlike and costume of the Indian, and made a figure re-nation, whose settlements extended from the Hudsembling more a Grecian Venus than an Indian son to the Potomac, are now also nearly extinet. Princess. The baptism of Pocahontas has been It is reduced to a few hundred souls, living in Ohio, chosen as a subject for the pencil of Chapman, which Louisiana and Missouri. These men called themis to fill one of the panels in the Rotundo. Of the selves Lenni Lenape, or, the Original People. They Iroquoise or Five Nations, once a formidable and came at first, according to tradition, with the Five warlike confederacy, consisting of the Mohawks, Nations from beyond the Mississippi, to which they Oneidas, Cayugas, Onondagas and Senecas, but a have been gradually returning since the arrival of meagre and scanty remnant remains. These Ro- the Europeans in this country. They were finally mans of the west occupied, in 1603, a portion of divided into forty tribes and were very numerous. Canada, and resided where Montreal now stands. They occupied Pennsylvania when Penn arrived, From an agricultural they became a warlike peo- and their descendants still cherish his memory. ple, extended their conquests like the ancient Ro-The Delawares held in high estimation the chamans, and spread terror wherever they appeared, racter of one of their ancient warriors, whom they until they possessed themselves of all the territory called Tamenend. He was alike distinguished for not sold to the English, estimated at about 1200 his private virtues and superior talents-and was miles in length and 800 miles in breadth. Their believed to have direct communications with the warriors in 1677 numbered 2150, and their whole Great Spirit. This chief, the whites during the population amounted to about 7000. The following revolution converted into a saint, and celebrated is the language of one of the warriors of this con- his festival yearly on the 1st of May, by walking federacy-Garangula-addressed to the Governor in procession, their hats decorated with bucks' tails, of Canada: "We are born free. We neither de- and dining in a sylvan retreat, called the Wigwam. pend on Yonondio, nor Corlear.* We may go This subsequently gave rise to associations called where we please, and carry with us whom we please, Tammany societies, which are now however falland buy and sell what we please. If your allies be your slaves, use them as such-command them to receive no other but your people," &c. This is the language of a fearless and independent mind, and characteristic of these bold and high-souled natives of the forest. With another distinguished chieftain of this confederacy-Logan, we have been made acquainted through the "Notes" of Mr. Jefferson. He was a Cayuga chief of fine talents and great bravery. Though the friend of white men, his friendship and devotion were rewarded with the destruction of his whole family. "There runs not a drop of my blood," he said, *The names they gave to the French and English Go retnors. ing into discredit: though, I believe, one is sall kept up nominally in New York. A fine history of this nation has been written by Heckewelder. But, the most warlike and savage of the Indian nations were the Shawanees, who were originally settled in Georgia and Florida, but afterwards spread along the Ohio and the forks of the Delaware and Pennsylvania. They were engaged in almost perpetual wars, either with the neighboring tribes or the whites. It was this tribe that had the honor of producing the famous TECUMSEH-a man of extraordinary powers and great ambition. He was born near Chilicothe. His father was Shawanee, and his mother a Cherokee, who had been made prisoner in a war between these nations. “He was distinguished," says Mr. Thatcher, "for a tribes on the west banks of the Mississippi, and steady adherence to principle, and generally to that upon Lakes Huron, Superior and Michigan. He of the best kind. He prided himself upon his now travelled over the route once more. From north temperance and his truth, maintaining an uncommon to south, and from east to west, he ranged the conreputation for integrity, and never indulging in the tinent-threatening, flattering, rousing resentment, excessive use of food or liquor. He would not alarming superstition, provoking curiosity. No lamarry until long after the customary period; and bor fatigued, no disappointment discouraged, no danthen as a matter of necessity, in consequence of ger alarmed, no emergency surprised him." He the solicitations of his friends he connected him- became the head of the Anglo-Indian forces, which self with an elderly female who was perhaps not were more numerous and powerful than had ever the handsomest or most agreeable lady in the world, before been collected. He commanded the right but nevertheless bore him one child, his only off- wing of the allied army at the battle of the Moraspring." Like Hannibal against the Romans, he vian towns. The battle was sanguinary. The seems to have sworn vengeance against the Ame- British and Indian army were, however, defeated ricans, while yet a boy, amidst the ruins and deso- by the Americans; but Tecumseh scorned to fly, lation of his native land. Before he was twenty- while all were flying around him. He was seen five, he was reputed the greatest of the Indian in the hottest of the conflict, dealing death wherwarriors, and the most implacable enemy of the ever he moved. He fell at last on the battle field, whites, upon whose settlements his incursions and yielded up his noble spirit in the midst of a were repeated and terrible. He appears to have scene in which he gloried. His dead body was afbeen stimulated not only by hatred, but by a terwards found, surrounded by thirty of his men, much finer impulse-the love of glory and of coun- and buried near the spot where he had fallen. He try. The spoils which he acquired in his various has been properly called the "INDIAN BONAPARTE," warlike expeditions, were always freely distributed and the history of the civilized world does not furamong his followers-as if he scorned the thought|nish many instances of greater magnanimity, perof being influenced by the sordid love of plunder. severance, or native intellectual power. To show His views were as grand as they were patriotic. the loftiness and independence of his mind, a sinLike Napoleon, he could command armies better gle example will suffice. than detachments. He appeared, however, too At a conference held at Vincennes, after deliverlate to render the cause successful in which he had ing a long and energetic speech, he perceived that so bravely embarked. Against such a leader, he had not been provided with a seat. Governor Cortes and Pizarro would have been but rushes| Harrison ordered one to be placed for him. "Your before the tempest. His object seems to have been father," said the interpreter, "requests you to take to form a great confederacy of the Indian tribes, a chair." "My father!" replied Tecumseh, with for the purpose of preserving their independence a look of scorn-"The sun is my father and the and keeping the whites in check. For this pur-earth is my mother, and on her bosom I will repose he united with him his brother, the famous pose." And he threw himself on the ground. Prophet, Elskatawa, who was to proclaim his com- When he understood that General Proctor meant to mission from the Great Spirit-reform the man-retreat from Malden, he demanded an interview, ners of the Indians, and raise proselytes by the and in the name of the allied Indians addressed miracles he performed and the great benefits he him in a speech of great eloquence, of which the promised to confer upon his countrymen. The ef- following is a part. "Father, you have got the forts of these two singular men were, as far as arms and ammunition which our great father sent could be expected, successful in uniting the In- for his red children. If you have an idea of godians against the Americans—but the confederacy ing away, give them to us, and you may go and which Tecumseh wished to form, was not so ex-welcome for us. Our lives are in the hands of the tensive and powerful as it would have been, if his Great Spirit. We are determined to defend our brother had not permanently and imprudently suf-lands, and if it be His will, we wish to leave our fered himself to be led into a battle at Tippecanoe, bones upon them." The portrait of this distinduring the absence of the former. The Prophet guished Indian warrior, statesman and orator, has sustained a defeat, which caused some of the con- been sketched with great truth by the writer to federate tribes to withdraw, some to remain neutral, whom I have been indebted for most of the parand others to appear in open hostility. But Tecum- ticulars of his history. "His appearance," says seh's spirit was not broken. He endeavored to make Mr. Thatcher, was always noble-his form syman honorable peace with the Americans, but in vain. metrical-his carriage erect and lofty—his motions Nothing now remained but to strike a deadly blow. commanding; but under the excitement of his favoHe became the ally of Great Britain, during the rite theme, he became a new being. His fine last war between that nation and this. His "pride, countenance lighted up with a fiery and haughty revenge and ambition were roused," says Thatcher. pride. His frame swelled with emotion. Every Repeatedly before this, he had visited all the posture and every gesture had its eloquent mean |