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require any exercise of thought, and are perfectly understand- 

 able by the smallest share of capacity. I must not, however, 

 here attempt to define the susceptibilities of men's minds to 

 the impressions of beauty; but I must remark, that I do not 

 wish to cast any reflections upon those persons whose judg- 

 ment in art is feeble ; such men may possess, on other sub- 

 jects, the deepest powers of reflection, and, like Watt, have 

 grappled successfully with the difficulties of the steam engine, 

 yet have no taste either for painting or poetry. 



When our attention is directed to the celebrated Masters 

 whose works are yet before us, we are left in astonishment, 

 that in the lapse of ages so little should have been done, in 

 even an attempt to approach them ; they stand at the present 

 period in the same elevated position which they held at the 

 moment of their production ; and a Phidias, a Eaphael, and a 

 Michael Angelo are yet the masters of the world. With these 

 great names it is in vain we look for any parallel in this or 

 past ages. We are left at a most humiliating distance, with 

 but a faint ray of hope for the future, and are naturally led 

 to ask, Why is this ? Why do we thus stand without even an 

 effort to rise, while every other department of art has advanced 

 in a degree equal, if not superior, to that of any other period ? 

 Can it be, that in a country where a long and destructive war 

 closed the Continent of Europe to our artists, and while the 

 works of Italy and Greece were known only through the 

 instrumentality of prints, that the progress of painting in this 

 country was more rapid, more successful, and more original 

 than that of any other school in modern times ? Can it be, 

 that where such efforts as these were made, that we want the 

 power to rise ? Are we to be told, in these times, which have 

 produced men possessing claims to distinction of no ordinary 

 nature — are we to be told the silly story that our climate 

 is too cold — that the genius of our country is damped by the 

 sordid love of gain ? Happily, the time for such chilling re- 

 flections is gone, when we must look forward to a brighter 



