FINE ARTS.

NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERY of distinguished Americans, conducted by James Herring, of New-York, and J. B. Longacre, of Philadelphia.---We were prevented, by want of room, from noticing the above well executed and beautiful periodical, on its first appearance; a second number has sincec ome out, and we are most happy toadd our testimony of its high excellence, to the many notices, which it has elicited from all quarters. All the engravings are extremely respectable; one or two admirable. Charles Carrol, of Carrolton, and Catharine M. Sedgwick, by R. B. Durand, are of the highest order,---nor do we find line engravings to surpass these in the best English works of this description Were all the portraits executed with as much ability as these, the National Portrait Gallery would equal at least, if not surpass, Hodge's English Gallery of illustrious persons; from which we apprehend the idea of the present publication took its origin. It is an honor to the enterprise of our country, and we rejoice to hear that its success has not been inferior to its deserts.

TAM O'SHANTER AND SOUTER JOHNNY, THE LANDLORD AND LANDLADY.-Sculpture in hard gray Ayrshire stone, executed by Mr. Thom, a self-taught artist.-We hail with sentiments of the most unqualified satisfaction, the appearance of these invaluable specimens of sculpture on our side of the Atlantic.-The have long been the admiration of connoiseurs as well as of the public generally in the British Isles.Enjoying as we do, and as we believe do also the far greater portion of our fellow citizens, the exquisite heart touching poetry of Burns, it cannot but be matter of gratulation, that a kindred spirit has started up ;--kindred in every moral respect, if not in consanguinity, to illustrate the most fascinating and popular of his poems by figures that bring home to us the very reality of the story.

But if our delight be merely upon viewing those specimens of sculpture, as such, how much must that pleasure and astonishment be enhanced upon the reflection that they are the work of a man who has never been taught the science of the statuary or sculpture; that it is the production of enthusiasm and a naturally correct and classic taste; and that it is even more free from imperfections than we find the works generally to be, of those who have a right to style themselves "artists."

Not the least surprising circumstance in the history of these figures, is this, namely, that they are executed without recourse to any previous model, drawing, figure, or casting.--They spring from the block of ordinary Scotch stone, at the magic touch of this self-taught artist, and present the veritable "Tam," with his crony, the Souter, and the contributors to their jollity, the

Landlord and his wife.--It is also remarkable, that although the original design was only to represent the first two, yet the alteration in the plot of the group has not in the least deranged the propriety of the several expressions in the countenances and situations.-It is no longer a tale "hughly comical" between Tam and his drouthy crony, those two personages are on the contrary now placed dos-a-dos, and whilst the latter retails some quiet oft-told joke to the man of obesity, the landlord, whose ever ready laugh is fitted for all customers, the former is suspending the action of the arm which carries the cup to his head, until he has discharged some sly, humorous remark into the attentive ear of the eager hostess.

Farther examination of these figures, only add to the delight of their visitors; muscle, limb, and article of dress tells a tale. They are like the moral pictures of Hogarth, the more closely these are observed, the more new features they display.

Very different is the process by which the regular bred artist arrives at the end of his task.-We find him first designing on paper, then modeling in clay, or casting in plaster, winning his way inch by inch to his conclusion; the spirits flagging through the long familiarity with his subject,— whilst our artist of nature, whose model is in his head only, and the strokes of whose mallet are impelled by the goading eagerness with which he views the originally unformed shapeless mass of stone, changing almost its very nature;-inert matter becoming almost instinct with life, and seeming to tell a tale of human joys and human nature.-Such is Mr. Thom's work--the mantle of Burns has fallen upon him. Himself an Ayrshire native, a son of the working classes, an ordinary--but we do him wrong--an extraordinary stone mason. How would the Scottish bard have rejoiced, how would he have honored the man who could give to the creations of his fancy "a local habitation and a name."

But it is time to enter into a detail of these chefs d'œuvres. Mr. Thom has seized the moment for grouping his characters, when they are all "fu happy;" the evening we may easily imagine to have waned into night, and the whole party gleived as it were to their chairs, except the landlady, whose attention seems in a measure divided between present and expected guests. The fine, robust looking athletic figure of Tam himself is most superbly drawn, he is at perfect ease, yet he sits upright in his chair, apparently complete "lord of his person." Few figures in the whole history of sculp ture more completely exhibit composed strength, and uncultivated grace than this of the hero. He has just got the cup of "nappy" half up to his lips, when some comical, half roguish conceit or reminiscence comes across him, and his arm continues in that position, uutil he gives utterance to his idea, by telling it to the landlady, his speaking face almost telling us

the nature of the joke as distinctly as though we heard it from his mouth. The brisk hostess, his hearer, turned in her elbowchair towards him, and eagerly bending forward as she listens with pleased attention to his tale, looking directly in his face, as if to gather from his countenance, as she certainly may, a repetition of that which reaches her ears. She leans upon one elbow of her chair, her foot is a little advanced on the floor, as if she were ready to make personal reply to any call on her hospitable duties.

On the right of the parties in this tête-atête, are the souter and the landlord, who, as they are justly entitled, are enjoying their jest also. Upon looking at Johnny, the spectator is instantly struck with the idea that he is a professed, heavy, determined joker. One who has a large collection of "right merrie conceits," which, in his own notion, are inimitable, and which he discharged with immeasurable selfcomplacency, and in pitiless profusion, upon every one that may by fate be condemned to fall into his clutches. He has gradually attained to a considerable obesity of person, his fair round face is ornamented with an alforjas, or double chin, large enough for the dew-lips of a mountain steer. The corners of his mouth are turned up with an habitual smile, contracted we suppose by his perpetual satisfaction at his own conceits, his small eyes-laugh not reader, but we could almost say-twinkling with pleasure as he utters them. He holds the jug on his knee, after having poured out a draught for the landlord, whom, however, he does not permit to drink it; for, before the latter can do so, the souter delivers him self of one of his best, the point of which we are to conceive to have just reached the seat of mine host's understanding, for he has just thrown himself back in his chair, his face turned upwards, and an explosion of laughter bursting out at his mouth, his eyes, his cheeks, nay, the very calves of his legs; the muscles of his arms relax of their rigidity, the hand that holds the ale cup gradually droops, and unconsciously the liquor is falling to the ground, whilst the landlord is absorbed in the enjoyment of the jest.

Nothing could be more happily, more felicitously expressed than all this, it is redolent with rustic mirth, and absence of care. Nor has the artist been less attentive to what may be called the accessaries of the work, than to the main design. View the landlord, he appears like one well-to-do in the world. He is in the decline of life, as appears by the thin hair on his head, sleekly smoothed down. He is in Shakspeare's fifth age, having a "fair round belly with good capon lined," his clothes are good, but of old fashioned formation. He sits with the ease of a man who has long been used to sit, and feels that his condition in life, as well as his age, entitles him to do so. Every thing about him expresses substance and content. The most cursory

glance at the cobbler announces his trade;-we have the knees projected, and the toes turned in, a hollowness on the inside of the lower limbs displays this position in great relief, and strongly marks the souter's vocation. His clothing also is evidently inferior to that of the landlord, and, though not dilapidated, shows more of hard wear, the left pocket particularly, where we may suppose him to have been much in the habit of diving for his snuff-box, is stretched, and presents a yawning chasm into which valuable offerings are thrown from time to time, to be seasonably withdrawn again. Tam is equipped with boot-hose, drawn up from his feet so as almost to cover his limbs that he is an equestrian is evident from the spur on his heel;-the bonnet sits loosely on his head, and there is an air of a man "well-to-do" in the "reckless, roisterous' entire appearance. But what shall we say of the landlady? She is the paragon of Scottish landladies,--and we may conceive, without drawing much upon the imagination, the tidiness and order of the house, by the appearance of its mistress.---She has an ample broad frilled "mutch," just sufficiently withdrawn from her face to show its round, good-humored expression, and the roll of hair upon her forehead, which we could swear is either chestnut or golden. Her draperies are throughout so exquisitely proper and fitting,that had we not known Mr. Thom to be a stone-mason, we should have judged him to be a marchaud des modes.

Such is the group before us. There is good conversation to be obtained from them. For our own part, we conceive that it is impossible to ascertain all the beauties and all the merits of the work at one visit, how much soever it may be prolonged. Every alteration in the position of the visitor seems to tell him a new tale, and to present to him some new idea. And he may return again and again to improve his acquaintance with these personages, again and again he will derive new information from them.

The subjects are the size of life,-they are solid, and weigh upon an average, about twenty-three hundred each. Great care has been taken in their transportation from place to place, and hitherto they have fortunately escaped much damage; but they are unwieldy things, and from their very nature are only fit to be introduced in large and populous places, where they can remain for a length of time.

It would be superogatory to wish this remarkable artist success. That is assured to him. A man who, from the uneducated, uncultivated condition of a country stone mason, can make one stupendous bound, and place himself, if not on a level with at least in the society of, the most distinguished artists, can have none but himself to blame, if he do not in time take his place beside the Canova's and the Chantry's of sculpture. Nor let it be objected against this remark, that his subject is of low life.

Sufficient is the admission, that it is true to life itself. The volume of human na

ture is presented, to be read throughout, and he obtains but a very partial knowledge of his subject, who views only one side. There may be more expanded idea-though even of that there is a question--in portraying the acts, or allegorizing the virtues of the hero, the statesman, or the divine, but the moment the artist goes beyond truth in his conceptions, he falls short of the man who displays human nature as it is, in broad and vivid coloring, and who attracts to our notice and invites to our examination, a class of society, whom in the pride of inferior intellect and worldly advantages, we are apt to cast into the shade, or view with indifference.

THE DRAMA.

PARK THEATRE.---Our city has again been delighted with chaste but forcible acting of the Kembles, who have this time made us but a short visit. We have nothing to add on the score of criticism respecting these admirable performers; it would now be worse than impertinent to point out beauties with which every understanding is familiar, or to point out peculiarities which all have been able to appreciate; but we could have much to reiterate, if it were necessary, of the applause with which they are greeted, and of the respect with which they are justly treated wherever they go. It has been long known to the world that Mr. Kemble is a man of the nicest and most punctilious feelings and principles. Experience has proved that he reads the volume of human nature, that he knows how to make allowances for customs and habits, not in every point according with his own, and that he is ever anxious to please, and---we may as well say it---to deserve popularity, by respecting public opinion, without making himself the debased slave of the public voice. His accomplished daughter too, we cannot help thinking, improves daily in the higher excellencies of her art, though when first we witnessed her performances we thought there was little to improve upon. The Kembles must attribute it to themselves if we grow fastidious, for they have awakened in us, so deep a sense of the treasure we at present possess, that they must not wonder if we desire to see its value every hour increased.

FAREWELL BENEFIT OF MISS HUGHES. -So our city has lost the most delightful artiste that has warbled upon the boards of this theatre for many a year. That most excellent actress, and amiable female, Miss Hughes, departs for England, perhaps never to return. On Wednesday evening last she took her farewell benefit, on which occasion, she chose her parts in Cinderella and the Princess of Navarre, before a full and highly respectable audience, assembled, notwithstanding the inclemency of the weather, to do the last act of justice in their power to the talents and conduct of this

highly gifted and much esteemed vocalist.Never was she in finer voice---never did her rich and round tones roll so mellifluously on the ear, or enchant the soul as on the very verge of being lost altogether. The audience seemed affected, as under species of moral electricity.---Their raptures could not find expression in speech, and they were under the necessity of supplying the deficiency by action. A wreath was thrown at her feet from one of the boxes, which was presently picked up by a gentleman and placed where it was most appropriately intended-upon her head. Thunders of applause followed the act of gallantry, but its effects, however grateful to the feelings of the young lady, was fatal to her voice, and to the further gratification of the audience as far as their ears were concerned, for her agitation was so great, that she was constrained to break short her attempt at the last encore. This last, however, as it was no acting, but the result of grateful feelings overcoming the strength in her ingenuous soul, so it produced sympathetic emotions in all who beheld it, and she retired amidst the warmest and most deserved plaudits. Peace, happiness, and prosperity go with her to her native land!

Monthly Obituary.

the hon. JOHN RANDOLPH, aged 59. In life On Tuesday the 21st ult. at Philadelphia, a firm and devoted friend to his country, so in death has he proved his friendship for his fellow beings, we allude to the emancipation of all his slaves.-Mr. Randolph long enjoyed the confidence of his fellow citizens, having been repeatedly elected to a seat in Congress, where his powers of oratory, his profound erudition, his many intellectual resources have always tended to the advancement of the interests of our happy county. In the grave his defects, (and what human being is without them,) his excentricities, his bitter and often biting Barcasm in debate, will be forgotten in the the last act of his life not among the least manifold good qualities of his character, conspicuous.

At Cincinnati, Ohio, suddenly, on the 22d ult. the Rev. SAMUEL JOHNSON, Rector of St. Paul's Church in that city.

She

On the 14th inst., at the residence of her son-in-law, the Rev. Robert Henry, in Greensburgh, Pennsylvania, Mrs. ELIZA BETH BUCHANAN, in her 67th year. was the relict of Mr. James Buchanan of Mercersburgh, sister to he Rev. William Speer, and mother of James Buchanan, now Ambassador at the Court of all the Russias.

At Manchester, Vt. on the 23d inst., the Hon. RICHARD SKINNER, formerly Governor of that State.

13th inst., GEORGE S. BROWN, of the firm Suddenly, at St. Mary's Georgia, on the of Seabury & Brown, of this city, aged 36.

The Rev. J. REID, aged eight-five, incumbent of Rockliffe, near Carlisle, for fiftyfour years. He and his predecessor filled the situation for 112 years.