generous, intelligent, and sympathetic patronage he received from royalty, rank, and men of fortune. Devoid of this, at that period and under his circumstances, it is difficult to imagine how he could have worked auspiciously in a sphere so dependent upon individual appreciation and encouragement. It is not surprising that he loved England and felt at home there, both as regards society, art, and congenial influences.. He lived to witness a surprising change in the resources of artist-life; for there is no more striking fact in regard to this subject than the munificent patronage which the wealthy manufacturers of Great Britain now extend to Art. Some of the choicest works of modern painters are to be found in Manchester; as if by the law of compensation the scene of the most exclusive material labor should be hallowed by the love and presence of the beautiful. "Almost every day," writes Leslie in 1851, "I hear of some man of fortune whose name is unknown to me, who is forming a collection of pictures; and they are all either men of business or men who have retired from business with a fortune." Through popular criticism, engravings, local exhibitions, and the facilities of travel, Art is becoming more and more a vast social interest, losing its exclusive character, and growing into and out of the economy and the taste of modern life. Erelong its lover and student will not depend, as did Leslie at the outset of his career, upon private favor to study masterpieces. Already the Cartoons of Raphael, the best antique models and specimens of the Venetian, Roman, and Flemish schools, are accessible to the humblest seeker after truth and beauty; and the most graceful works of the living English and Continental painters may be seen on the walls of tradesmen, or in the exhibition-rooms of New York and London.

The alacrity and earnestness with which Leslie cultivated the society of those whom he thought his superiors in mind, the habit of appreciating excellence, in no small degree account for his progressive intelligence and sympathy. Nor was this entirely owing to his refined and intellectual taste, but in a measure to the abeyance of self-love in his nature. He was an aspirant, not alone in Art, but in character and culture. He justly regarded the companionship of original and accomplished men and women as the chief privilege of his life. Not too

sensitive or complacent to be happy with those who, in some quality or gift, excelled him, he was receptive of the good and tolerant of the objectionable in character to a singular degree. Like his friend Allston, he was a "wide liker;" and consequently among the first to recognize the early triumphs of that artist. His youthful reminiscences of Coleridge give us a most vivid and pleasing idea of that remarkable man in his prime. With Rogers he enjoyed constant and improving intercourse. For Constable his love and admiration were deep. We remember the sensibility with which, a short time after that artist's death, he alluded to him. Throwing open the window of his studio, he pointed to a church spire, at Hampstead, just visible through a sunlit mist, and spoke of their walks in that neighborhood, and tenderly said that there Constable was buried. His biography of this artist-friend is as remarkable for its modest and judicious plan as for its personal interest. His visits to Newton, at the Insane Asylum, are noted with discrimination and feeling, and his written portrait of this and many other eminent friends betrays the liberal as well as sagacious observer. Rare and abundant, indeed, were Leslie's social resources. The artists and authors, the wits and heroes of his time, in Britain, have found few such appreciative companions. Always his estimate of character is tempered by humanity, and his chronicle of society chastened by taste. Many have heard Moore sing, Sydney Smith joke, Coleridge improvise, Rogers tell anecdotes, Irving indulge his humorous vein, and Wilkie, Turner, Haydon, Landseer, Fuseli, and Stothardt talk about Art; but no one has done more catholic justice to them all, as men, than Leslie. He reached a high point of independence in his judgment, and seems to praise neglected merit with the emphasis of conviction. He did not, like the mass, see with ears," nor wait for fame to canonize what he felt to be intrinsically great. Although a social epicure, he was impatient of fault-finders. He could relish a bonmot as well as a felicitous tint, and delight in the picturesque in character as well as in costume. He reverts to his early struggles with the same manly candor with which he alludes to his prosperous days; and the contrast between the time when he economized letter-postage, and waited weeks for his turn to

read the new poem from the library, and that when he was the favored guest at Petworth, lunched at Windsor, and dined at Holland House, never seems to have unduly depressed or elated one whose "blood and judgment were so well commingled." He named a son for his earliest friend, the Philadelphia bookseller who furnished the means for his visit and studies in England; his affectionate interest in his kindred never abated; his friendships were long and loyal; and, if his eyes grew dim with tears to see the young Queen partake of the holy communion, the same sensibility was exhibited in practical kindness towards impoverished talent or humble worth.

To a generous lover of beauty, one in whom the aesthetic element is pervasive, there is something almost frivolous in the extreme opinions that exist in regard to Art. It seems incompatible with an earnest sensibility to and appreciation of the world of interest which that term, in its broad acceptation, signifies, that any school should be utterly repudiated, or that any diversity of taste should lead to differences and controversies almost fanatical. How absurd, in the retrospect, appear the violent discussions which alienated artists from one another, to the extent of becoming actual enemies, when the fierce contest reigned in France between the votaries of the Romantic and Classic schools. And now what perversity in Ruskin and his disciples to decry the old masters in the same degree that they exalt certain modern painters, and carry the "return to nature," which is the desirable principle of Pre-Raphaelitism, to the extent of pedantic puerility! A catholic taste in Art embraces all kinds, forms, and schools wherein there is anything genuine; and a liberal mind of ideal aptitude, can find somewhat in sacred, historical, Italian, Flemish, Spanish, French, English, and German pictures to delight in and admire, whenever either is informed by truth, genius, sentiment, grace, beauty, or technical skill. The limitations of the English school are self-evident. The life of a London artist is essentially different from that of one whose home is at Dusseldorf or Rome. Each place and style has its advantages and its drawbacks; we find no obstacle in recognizing them all, though, of course, there must be strong preferences. With all its niceties

of execution, household sentiment, refined and pleasing influences, the school of pictorial art which Leslie illustrated, the system under which he studied and prospered, lack scope, earnestness and glow, wide relations, and high significance. His deference for and reliance on the Royal Academy, and indifference to many spheres and phases of artistic interest and knowledge, are results of that conventional dogmatism and routine which more or less invade and narrow human development in England. It is for what he did excel in, for the manner in which he worked out the truth and the quality that he grasped, both in art and character, that we honor Leslie, and deem his example valuable and his life attractive. In exhibiting the literary affinities of Art in their more delicate manifestations, his genius was peculiar; his social and professional obligations to authors were remarkable, and suggest vast possibilities in that direction. The truth is, his relish of character was dramatic; Murray's shop and Sterne's Calais hotel had attractions for him almost equal to a picture-gallery. His ideal of Art and life was modified by the English standard of respectability. He loved the beautiful in minute and casual, rather than in grand and abstract forms; and the single flower he delighted to put in a glass every morning to brighten his studio, his fastidious taste in companionship, his habit of noting his social experience, his provident, harmonious, and well-ordered life, are in striking contrast with the vagaries of German and the ardor of Italian painters. His patient, unimpassioned temperament and well-balanced mind suggest altogether a different being from those Vasari has chronicled, or such as are met at an Ostia picnic or sketching on the Rhine; and equally diverse from theirs are his productions, refined expression, finish, and taste far exceeding creative and ideal power or profound sentiment.

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1. Evangelischer Liederschatz für Kirche, Schule und Haus. (Treas ury of Evangelic Song, for the Church, School, and Home.) Von M. ALBERT KNAPP. Stuttgart und Tübingen. 1850.

2. Auswahl Altchristlicher Lieder. (Selection of Early Christian Hymns.) Von FERDINAND BÄSSLER. Berlin. 1858.

3. Evangelische Liederfreude. (Joy of Evangelic Song.) Von FERDINAND BÄSSLER. Berlin. 1853.

4. In der Stille. (In the Stillness.) Von KARL SUDHOFF. Breslau. 1853.

5. Deutsches Gesangbuch. (German Hymn-Book.)

Von PHILIPP

SCHAFF. Philadelphia: Lindsay and Blakiston. 1859. 6. Sacred Lyrics. From the German. Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication.

MANY of our readers may be glad to be made acquainted with the titles of German hymn-books which we have given above. We might, indeed, have added many more, but these are of such as we ourselves have examined. Knapp's volume contains three thousand and sixty-seven pieces. The two by Bässler comprise a copious and choice assortment of hymns, first, from the second to the fifteenth century, and then from Luther down to our own times. Sudhoff's beautiful collection — a pearl of typographical beauty, and full of pearls of beautiful thought, sentiment, and expression, which might be entitled in English (like a recent little book on prayer) "The Still Hour" - is divided into five parts, headed respectively, "Stillness before God," "Holy Times," "Faith's Conflict and Victory," "Life in Christ," and "The Last Things." Dr. Schaff's neat volume contains a remarkably tasteful selection of pieces, and is enriched with valuable historical notices of hymns and their authors. And, finally, the elegant volume issued by the Presbyterian Board, for the combined fidelity, fervor, and grace with which its translations are executed, deserves the highest praise.

We have here indicated but a few of the best reservoirs of

German sacred song. We shall try to give our readers a taste of some of the streams from which they have been filled.