viction, are the surest means of carrying his hearers along with him. But earnestness and energy are very distinct from violence and raving. On the contrary, the latter are sure to fall ineffective. I am also as far as is possible from objecting to the feelings being occasionally appealed to from the pulpit. I consider a sermon of strong language, delivered with the solemnity befitting some parts, and the passion even which I am willing to allow to others, to be the thing of all others calculated to produce a strong and fearful impression—in the Scotch phrase "to gar us grew". which may be rendered, to make us shake in our shoes. A preacher has, above all other orators, means to affect his hearers, both from subject and illustration: he, indeed, to borrow the expression of one of the first of preachers, can "return us to the world with understandings elevated, and with hearts made better*." But Mr. Irving's solemnity is vehemence: Mr. Irving's passion is fury. And what is worse than all, he is not guided in these bursts of convulsive frenzy by the matter which he is delivering. He throws himself into all the variations of attitude which are consistent with every one of them being ungraceful-his hands are clenched-the sweat starts upon his brow-his whole frame shakes-and his voice comes forth with a quivering sound from the extremity of his agitation; and all this at a passage where manly earnestness is all that is needed, or, indeed, admissible. As an instance of this, when speaking of the omnipotence of God-that the whole universe was in His power-as he pronounced the word universe, he absolutely waved his arm round and round above his head, in a manner which is usual only when the hand contains a hat, and the mouth is uttering Huzza! Huzza!

* Alison's Sermon on Autumn.

He occasionally, also, drops his voice into a low and strangely quiet tone, which is equally uncalled-for with his vehemence-equally void of the slightest reference to his

words.

A style of delivery such as this was not likely to reconcile me to the matter of which I have striven to give an idea. They are both, it is true, very similar to each other, but both, as it appears to me, totally bad; and the very last things which ought to be held up as models of eloquence. Mr. Irving's style has, with me at least, the worst of all faults-it is wholly unimpressive. If I may be allowed to use a simile after all I have said of them above, I should liken it to the waves which break against a rock, both with reference to their froth, foam, and violence, and to all this being utterly ineffective and unavailing.

I went away lost in wonder,-not at the notoriety which Mr. Irving has gained, for his style is very much ad captandum,—but at the report which I had heard (but which I must say I now doubt) that some of our most really eloquent men have spoken of him in high praise; and, above all, at the fact, which is undoubted, that Dr. Chalmers chose him as his assistant.

SCRAPS,

ORIGINAL AND SELECTED.

“Inest sua gratia parvis.”

CANOVA'S STUDIO.

Rome, 6th May, 1823.-I WENT alone to-day to visit Canova's Studio, for a second and last time. I am so confoundedly modest, that when I was there before, in company, I could not take the look at many of the naked statues that I wished, in order to make up my mind as to their merits. My visit to-day was a very short one. I found the Venus and Mars packed up for England, (for the King,) and had the last look of them before the top was put on the massy case. There were several other statues in a like condition, preparatory to their transportation to that country. There is certainly much truth in the assertion that all Canova's faces, particularly his females, are of the same family. They are all beautiful, however, but more like each other than even sisters are generally found. Among the busts, of which there is not a very large collection, there is one of "La Paulina,” Napoleon's sister, so famed for her beauty; and all Canova's female faces appear to me to bear a strong resemblance to this beautiful countenance. I do not wonder at its having made a strong impression upon the artist; for, sallow and extenuated as she is, with the grave ready to receive her, it is impossible to see her without readily acknowledging her claims

to having been of the most lovely of her time. She sat to Canova when full of health and youth; and, when we are told that she also sat to him as the goddesses stood for judgment before Paris; it is not to be wondered if the impression made upon the sculptor were such as to cause his chisel afterwards unconsciously to produce resemblances of the same features. The prince Borghese was not so generous as, I think, Alexander the Great, who at once gave the painter the slave girl whom he had brought as a subject for his pencil, when he saw the effect produced by her charms. Pauline's bust is between those of Murat and his wife. The face of the late King of Naples is very indicative of his character, handsome, open, and manly, with a profusion of hair on his head-mustachios over his thick lip, and an expression of warm-hearted, soldier-like good-nature, with but slight abilities. In another part of the Studio is Canova's own bust, done by himself, from which, since his death, a very good basso relievo has been taken, and to it has been joined one of the figures from the tomb of Cardinal York, an angel with the torch turned down,-the whole being intended for his monument; but, I trust, a better than this will be raised to him.

I was more struck to-day than I had been on the first visit, by his production when a lad under twenty years of age-Icarus and Dædalus. The old man is binding up the boy's arm, broken by the fall; while the wreck of the wings, which had betrayed him in his flight, is lying by his side. These two figures were taken from the life, and are, in my very humble opinion, the acme of the art of sculpture. The father's attitude and face are admirable. The expression of anxiety not to hurt his son, and yet of firmness and determination to bind up the fracture with effect, is depicted with all the truth of nature. The boy, about thirteen or fourteen years old, is equally excellent. There is a slight ex

pression of pain upon the countenance, covered by a smile, to cheer his father, and a sweetness of look, if it may be so termed, quite taking.-There are two unfinished copies of the sleeping nymph, or Venere Vincitrice, roused from her sleep by the music of a little Cupid, who is playing the lyre at her feet,the original of which is at Carlton Palace. One of the copies is bespoken, and finishing for England. The other is still unbought, and the want of the master-hand to finish it, makes it, in my opinion, of little value.-There is a full-length of Madame Letitia Bonaparte sitting on a chair, much in the style of the statue of Agrippina, in the capital. There are also, casts of all the works of Canova, which must always make a visit to his Studio interesting. I have before mentioned my opinion that Canova deals too much, and, unnecessarily, in complete nakedness,—and, in this opinion, my visit of to-day has confirmed me. His Icarus and Dædalus are sufficiently, though slightly, covered,—and lose none of their beauty by being so. Canova is gone-and his loss will not speedily be made up. I grudge exceedingly not having seen him. His charity amounted to generosity, for he never received payment for any of his works without appropriating a liberal portion for the wants of his fellowcreatures. His whole character may be comprised in the words-Genius, Simplicity, Kindness*.

The colossal statue of Bonaparte I had forgotten to mention. It was bought for the King of England at Paris, and was given by him to the Duke of Wellington.

* I was informed that Canova locked himself up to finish his statues, as he had a mode peculiar to himself of giving the last polish' to the marble. I thought this, at the time, unworthy of such a man, and strangely inconsistent with the openness and simplicity of his character. I was exceedingly happy to hear afterwards from Bertolini, at Florence, that the story was a complete fable."