the centre and different parts of the room, on which are laid elegantly-bound books, with gilt edges; all placed in so studied a manner as plainly to show that they are never studied. These various articles are arranged with evident attention to produce the best effect to the eye, and are so fresh in appearance as leave no doubt that they are meant merely as ornaments to be exhibited on special occasions. The walls are entirely covered with paintings or engravings, piled one above another, so as to give the room the air of a shop where such articles are sold, or a gallery where they are exhibited for money. They are placed, not according to beauty, or excellence of design or execution, but rather according to dimensions; as those who pack merchandise into boxes put a large parcel here and a small one there, that no space may be lost. The windows of the apartment being only at each end, and these shrouded with rich drapery, it happens, as you may well imagine, that three-fourths of the paintings are in a false light, and their beauties, if they ever had any, cannot be brought out. If perchance one is seen more conspicuous for its finish than another, its beauty is impaired by being found in bad company. A work of merit, a Madonna or a Claude, has for a pendant a common engraving of a View of the White-House at Washington,' or a lithographic impression of 'Robinson Crusoe' on his desolate island, surrounded by his goats and parrots; a painting of Apollo is tête-à-tête with that of a late President; one in all the simplicity of nature, the other in full regimentals; and the Virgin Mary is on friendly terms with Black Hawk.

In the midst of this accumulated mass of glaring colors, this incongruous assemblage of beauty and deformity, arranged without method, sits the master of the house; his eyes turned first to one side then to the other, with the self-satisfaction of one who says to himself, 'These are mine.' He receives you with cordiality, evidently pleased that you have chosen a propitious hour for the visit, when he is present to display his wealth and make public his taste for the fine arts. He follows your eyes to see where they will rest; and when he thinks they are not directed to the objects he most prizes, will with a complacent air point to those most worthy your regard, being careful to add how he obtained them and how much they cost. In a house thus bedecked, the most curious object is the man; to see with what pleasure he views the signs of his opulence, and how self-satisfied he feels that by his riches he has been able to purchase what he believes to be taste. You soon see how far his judgment is to be relied upon, even in objects that may in themselves possess merit. It is not certain that he has a correct idea of even the subject; he knows nothing of the artist, or his peculiar talent; and as to the detail of the art, such as judgment in grouping, correctness of light and shadow, harmony of coloring, expression, and the like, he carefully avoids to discuss these points, for this is a knowledge his wealth could not buy. It seems to him sufficient that his walls are covered.

Our Holy Prophet (on whom be blessings!) forbids us to have

I

pictures or statuary, lest we fall into idolatry. Yet this is no check to my feeling a sensation of pleasure at viewing objects of art. cannot if I would withhold my delight while contemplating the bold conceptions of Michael Angelo, the rich coloring of Titian, or the soft beauties of Claude; even marble warms me into sympathy. I indulge freely in the pleasure of beholding the just proportions of Apollo, the graceful form of Venus de Medici. I am affected by the woe of Niobe, and the agony of Laocoon draws from me a feeling of compassion.

It appears to me that these are the feelings that finished compositions in the fine arts are calculated to inspire. When the mind has a perception of beauty and sublimity, it is on the way to acquire true taste; which consists not in the pleasure derived by the senses merely, but rather from the discriminating power of the mind, which selects subjects that warm the imagination and elevate the thoughts. They who go below this may have a certain degree of taste, but it is of a limited range, formed entirely by the gratification of the senses, not by any operation of the mind. A person may be born with lively sensibility, and yet not be deeply affected by the works of art; this effect is acquired mainly by a studious investigation of nature, assisted by judgment in comparing it with the works of distinguished masters. It is not sufficient that a painting be true to nature; it must go beyond the original from which it is copied, in order to give a direction to the sensibilities. This is performed by the creative power of the artist, is called expression, and produces a harmonious effect. I apprehend farther, that taste once acquired may lose much of its purity by permitting the mind to dwell on inferior objects; with these we may become so familiarized as to forget the original standard which was once our guide, and may become at last pleased with fantastic forms we once should have shrunk from. We may come to set value on imitations of tame scenery, and feel none of the enlivening emotions which the artist produces by giving greater expression to natural objects.

Some people are born with more aptitude than others to receive external impressions: the physical faculties may be more acute in one person than in another, and education is a powerful means of giving to the reflecting powers a higher tone. The rising sun is an object of pleasure to all; but how much more must be the emotion of pleasure felt by the cultivated man than that felt by the clown! And then the imaginative powers must be brought into exercise to stimulate and enlarge the range of the understanding; yet care must be had to keep it within proper bounds, that the conception should be just.

It is not to be supposed that those who are much engaged in the ordinary concerns of life, who are absorbed by the cares and duties of business or a profession, can possess (or if they had it, can retain,) the power of nicely discriminating the beauties of nature or art. This is and must be the peculiar privilege of the man of leisure, who is an habitual observer, and whose mind is kept vigorous by constant exercise.

Taste needs to be nourished and disciplined, like every other faculty we wish should be active and true, the more so when the frequent view of grosser objects blunts the imagination, that quality on which taste is mainly founded. Persons of quick perception and warm temperament are no doubt those who soonest feel the full effect of pleasurable objects, and retain them longest; yet even these higher-endowed persons will need to regard the works of art very frequently to keep up the train of agreeable emotions.

Let the rich buy paintings; it is not an ill-advised outlay of superfluous wealth. Even if they do not bring taste with them, they lead the way to acquire it, beside being one of the means of ennobling the mind. But the rich should keep in remembrance that it is not from the multitude and great variety of the works of art that ideas of beauty are derived, but rather by the choice selection of a few of the works of distinguished artists, the contemplation of which will mature the judgment and awaken loftier sentiments.

New-York, twenty-seventh day of the he}

Moon Show'wal: Hegira, 1260.

Letter Seventeenth.

FROM THE SAME то THE SAME;

THE pleasure I derive from frequent intercourse with my friend in the white cravat is greatly enhanced by the instructive lessons he is kind enough often to give me. He is a man past the meridian of life; has seen much, and judiciously observed; has read much and reflected; beside which, he possesses an even temper and a tranquil mind: all these combined, make me listen to his conversation with constant pleasure, and I retain with satisfaction the knowledge he is kind enough to impart.

One day, with the thoughtlessness of youth, I expressed my surprise at seeing old people gay, when as I supposed age must have weakened their means of enjoyment, and diminished the circle of companions who were accustomed to join them in those lively recreations which blunt the sense of care and smooth the current of life as it passes. I asked if the aged had the power of creating pleasures suited to their years; whether this power was inherent or whether it developes itself as time advances; in short, I wished to learn how to receive without murmuring the burden of years as they approached, and when they did come, to know how to be old.

My friend smiled at my request, and in his quiet way, answered me in the following words:

'I look upon it as a great art, that of knowing how to be old; that is, to know how to bear with cheerfulness and dignity the change which takes place in our faculties, both mental and physical, as we advance in years; and I see so many persons who submit to their destiny with bad grace, that I think one should be taught in youth the best method to bear old age. Some people put on the old man before their time, while others try to appear young after old age has laid his hand upon them. In the first instance it is the mind that has

given way first; in the second, it is the body that has yielded before the mind, and in each case the person is in fault. Some people imagine that by appearing old they are thought to be wise, as taciturn people are supposed to know much because they say little. By appearing old, too, sympathy is excited, and the world is kind enough to overlook without reproof the foibles of old men. In the second instance, of old men endeavoring to be thought young, vanity lies at the bottom. The show of physical strength we do not possess is sure to bring down ridicule on him who practices the deception. The true way is not to resist, but to yield with grace. As Time approaches, receive him with cheerfulness and he will treat you with lenity. If he should inflict a wound, good humor will hide the scar.

Some complain of their lot, as if it could be avoided; become sour and out of temper, as if this would make it better. Some consider themselves warranted by years and gray hairs to transgress against the conventional forms of society, and to say and do things which are in themselves improper. They claim much indulgence for their own failings, which they rather encourage than repress, and grant none to the difference of manners and new modes of thinking of those who are younger than themselves. To correct this habit the old should not retire from the world too soon, or rather, they should do so gradually, as years increase, and they should often meet and converse with persons younger than themselves; by which means they keep pace with the times, while their manners and conversation retain freshness, without the gravity of years degenerating into rigor and asperity. Both are gainers by the intercourse; in the young it suppresses levity by the respect age generally inspires, and the old accustom themselves to submit to the improvements which time produces in mind as well as in matter. The interchange of thought is like friction to stiffened limbs; it keeps up their elasticity. Above all, it prevents old men falling into the too common vice of selfishness.

They who in early life have been so fortunate as to have teachers who directed their minds to the study of such subjects as invigorated and enlarged their intellectual powers, are much to be envied. If they have studied with method and gained the knowledge which has been useful in their intercourse with their fellow men, they have acquired a standing in society and been resorted to as men whose judgments might be relied upon to decide doubtful questions; and in being thus serviceable to the world they have increased the sum of their own happiness, and laid a foundation for the strength of mind which never fails to sustain old age. A cultivated understanding, while it gives us just grounds for self-esteem, elevates us in the eyes of mankind, and what is more, furnishes us with a repository whence we may always draw wholesome reflections and pleasant recollections, to be called up when old age unfits us for reading. But it must be borne in mind that to form the character, much depends on the manner we are instructed. It is not difficult to give good principles, but their effect may be destroyed by the mode

they are instilled. We may be taught to perform virtuous acts from bad motives.

There must be a period when men advanced in life take little interest in books, and when the infirmities of age prevent them from sustaining conversation; then it is that they are thrown on their internal resources, and he who is rich has more enjoyment than he who is poor. Reflection must then come in, to prevent the mind from becoming inert for want of action, and reflection will be more or less pleasing as the understanding has been properly cultivated, or suffered to waste its energies in idleness or unworthy pursuits. The training in early life to the habit of reflecting on what one reads and sees, is a good way of preparing the means to bear old age in a becoming manner: it gives solidity to the character, and enables one to account for and view with equanimity of temper the many inconsistences that abound among mankind.

It is, I think, possible to teach youth the rudiments of the knowledge how to be old; not by making young people put on the habits, manners and notions of old persons, but by directing their minds in such a way as to fit them to bear with propriety each period of age as it advances.

Some people say, 'Read a great deal and you will know a great deal.' This does not follow. Most people do read a great deal, but few read with method, or make a good selection of subjects. In this case the mind is full of ideas; but they are so packed together that no single one is uppermost, and a man may thus be really ignorant though overflowing with learning. Such a man has read too much and reflected too little. There are many men who are not readers, and many of the laboring classes have no leisure to read, supposing they had the inclination; yet we as often see these persons happy as we do students or habitual readers. It is because they observe and reflect whenever they are not engaged in the active duties of their calling. This is a proof that books are not the only requisite to con

tentment.

We are all fond of quoting the sayings of the ancients, and the names of many of them are held in well-merited respect by posterity. They must have been men of sound minds and of great observation; but their knowledge could not, much of it, have been acquired by reading, for books and manuscripts were not so abundant in their time as they are now. Their knowledge of men and the rectitude of their moral sentiments must have been the result of close observation and constant reflection. It is worthy of notice that a habit of reflection gives a controlling power over the thoughts; enables us not only to direct them to the contemplation of proper objects, but to fix them upon subjects by which the mind may be kept in wholesome exercise, and the recollections be made pleasing. The reflecting man compares things with each other, by which means his judgment becomes correct and his decisions just. He is not led to form hasty determinations, but rather to weigh with calmness the subjects that are submitted to him, and thus his character is marked by