passed, and if a thing that is made to be looked at is not looked at, I ask triumphantly, what is the use of it?

Can anybody say what sin Dr. Jenner committed for which he does perpetual penance, not in white, but in black, his face black and his hands too, seated in the most public part of London, fixed to his chair, with no hope of rising from it?* Is this the man whose patient inquiries have well nigh rid us of a loathsome and fatal disease? I grant that he ought to have a memorial, if he needs one, though I am of Tacitus' mind that the remembrance of a man's virtues is a better monument than his figure in bronze or marble; and Cicero said well when he told the Roman senate in his funeral oration on Sulpicius, that the life of the dead rests in the remembrance of the living. But a statue is not merely a memorial: it is or should be a work of art on which we may look with pleasure. This seated figure might be anybody. I see nothing by which I recognize Dr. Jenner; to say nothing of a cow, there is not even a calf by his side, with the benevolent physician's hand on the animal. Perhaps the artist had not Myron's

Since this was written, I have been told that the Doctor has run away and hid himself, nobody knows where. Some say that he has taken to the woods and forests.

skill, who made in bronze a living heifer. I propose to the sculptors as a problem, what is the best way of treating a statue of Jenner, for I cannot solve it myself, though I am sure that a statue of a great man should give some indication of what he was.

Lysippus made a bronze statue of Alexander with a spear in his hand, and the face looking up, which was the king's fashion, for he always carried his neck a little on one side. Some man made an inscription for the statue, which is not amiss; and it runs thus in Greek as it does here in English:

Looking to Zeus the bronze appears to say,

I make the earth my own, keep thou Olympus.

The artist was rewarded by a patent which gave him the privilege of making the busts and statues of king Alexander.

If I say that a statue should be doing something, I say true. If he is only standing or only sitting, he is doing nothing. He may be thinking either standing or sitting; and then he is doing something. A Greek athlete who was sitting quiet, was resting and the artist could show the beauty of the human form in a state of repose. But our out-door statues either standing or sitting are not intended to display the form. They are intended to show-but I stop, for I do not know what they are intended for, except

it may be that the face is some likeness to the original, and the attitude and dress indicate in some manner the man's profession. I may have missed the exact purpose or intention in these things. If I have, I ask pardon for presuming to try to find it

out.

I cannot approve of a seated black statue in the open air a black man sitting, and no more. I am aware that the ancient artists did make seated statues, but then I reply that there are things in which we had better not imitate them, and I also reply that they could do these things better than we can. I also know that Michael Angelo made a noble seated figure of Giuliano de' Medici for a monument, and in something like a Roman military dress, which was nothing extravagant at that time; and if anybody can do anything like it now, I wish that he may be employed to do it. But I sincerely pity our seated gentlemen in London, poor Cartwright, who looks like an old cobbler on his stool, and Fox, worse treated still, blanket-dressed, fat and black. No wonder some shortsighted man from the now Confederate States once took him for a negro woman, the emblem of British philanthropy and a memorial of the abolition of the slave trade.

The Greeks, who did not do everything well, once seated Europa on a bull. We may have something like the original in a mean copy, which you may see in some books. I suppose the bull would be somewhat conventional, as they term it. At any rate he would not be an English bull, but a milder animal of the southern breed. I think we could not venture to put Dr. Jenner either on a bull or a cow, though his fame is as closely bound to this quadruped as that of our lady Europa. A modern artist has placed Ariadne on a conventional tiger or leopard, all naked and by no means in a comfortable position. We give the sculptor credit for great skill, but none for taste. At least I do not. A naked woman in an almost impossible attitude on an impossible beast, standing still, is the oddest combination of absurdity that can be imagined. We allow art a wide range when it can produce something beautiful, but there is a limit to the range. The Greeks had a bronze Aphrodite seated on a bronze he-goat; but there was a mystery in that, which I shall not unveil. In the British Museum there is a coin of Sybrita, an unknown town of Crete, which shows us how a man of taste could treat his subject. On one side is a figure of Hermes stooping to put on his shoes. On

the other a woman is seated on an animal, tiger or leopard, or something of the kind, though it is neither. She has one hand on the neck and in the other a thyrsus. She sits upright, bare to the waist: the drapery is well fixed round her middle, and hangs down leaving her feet free. The beast is galloping at a great rate, but the woman is so firmly placed that you are not afraid of her coming off. She sits well like a good rider. This is one of the most beautiful specimens of ancient art, and it may be a copy of some basso-rilievo.

The only beasts on which we can now place our heroes are horses. I may be wrong in my opinion, but I see no beauty in a horse standing still and a man's legs dangling down from the beast's back; nor do I think that the matter is mended by the horse and rider being of colossal size, though they ought to be larger than life. Perhaps we shall not have any more of these statues; but is it impossible to remove those that we have?

I have a word more about statues standing on lofty pillars. It is a consolation that they must by the very nature of the case be rare; and it is most fortunate that we see very little of them, except at a distance; and this is really the best position from which we can view them.