Louisa extracted the truth. At last, just as she had made it out, Lizzie and the groom came up at full gallop. "Now, Atwell, I am sure you are sorry for having said such things. Promise me not to fight again. Good night." "What is the matter?” cried Lizzie as she came up. Louisa laughed off the question, and fairly dragging a promise from the delinquent, went cantering away. Harry volunteered to shake hands, but Atwell rudely repulsed him. "Keep off," he said, "I've promised not to fight, but you may just as well take care of yourself." "Come, come, be friends." "I don't want to be friends. You cheated me, and you know it, whatever the young ladies say.", Harry coloured up fiercely, but forebore. "I did not, and you know that. Do be quiet; you should'nt bear malice." "Let me alone," said the other. Harry had no objection to do so, as it was rapidly growing dark, and walked away, pondering over his rival's unaccountable perverseness; coming at last to the conclusion that it was his temper, and he had better leave him alone. "I hate him!" said Atwell passionately, wrenching up a handful of grass, and tearing it to pieces. After all my hard work at those wretched books, to lose the prize! And lose it to him." He sat down on a stone, pulling his cap over his eyes, and sat there till it was too dark to stay any longer, before going home. The next day the young ladies left the hall for Germany; and no one was left there but the gardener and his old wife. (To be continued.) A BRIGHT THOUGHT.-A little Swedish girl, while walking with her father on a starry night, absorbed in contemplation of the skies, being asked what she was thinking about, replied, "I was thinking if the wrong side of heaven is so glorious, what must the right be?" MANCHESTER ART TREASURES MANY a person would take much greater pleasure in visiting the glorious Palace of Art now standing at Manchester, if they had clearer ideas of what Use this palace could be to them. We will try then, to furnish the key to the pictures, sculptures, and other works of art. The whole universe is a grand temple or palace of divine art-treasures. That is its meaning. Many people have only got so far as to be able to think of the universe as a great storehouse to give them food and whatever else the body needs, and a great workshop, filled with materials and tools with which they are to work. The world is all this for the body; but at the same time it is a palace of art-treasures for the mind: and the body is made for the sake of the mind. All the creations with which the universe is filled-mountains, clouds, rivers, lakes, rocks, trees, flowers, insects, birds, beasts, fishes, shells, stars, and human forms, are really only so many pictures or sculptures, made and painted for our mind to gaze upon, and be fed while gazing with beauty and harmony, and a great deal besides that beauty and harmony teach us. But the pictures are not made and scattered about merely for our amusement. God means to teach us the highest things in the universe by pictures, namely, a knowledge of His own thoughts, feelings, and aims, that is, a knowledge of Himself. He has made our spirits to find their highest happiness in becoming, day after day, more and more acquainted with Him. And, in order to give our spirits the opportunity of enjoying this happiness, He has represented his nature, his thoughts, feelings, and purposes, in innumerable pictures. He shows the same nature in every individual picture. Why, then, make so many pictures? Because the nature to be represented is infinite, and if we were to think about it through eternity we should not exhaust it. But it would tire us to think about it-one though it is for ever under the same form, and so God, in condescension to our weakness-presents it under countless different forms, all of them beautiful. There is one picture in the Exhibition at Manchester, which seems to us most beautifully to represent all this. It is the one in the Clock Gallery by Ary Scheffer, of which we have given an engraving, called the Dante and Beatrice. It is a vision in which the Italian poet, Dante, sees his beloved, long since departed, in heaven. "Beatrice did look on high, and I did look on her," is the line which describes it. We see, expressed in her face, wonder, awe, love, yet joy and peace. To her are opened the great mysteries of the universe. All difficulties are cleared up. To her the great harmony is revealed. She sees God, and sees his eternal love for the Spirit. She has nothing more to desire than to go on drinking deeper and deeper of the vision which is now open before her. The face of Beatrice is a type of the blessedness which God meant us to have in this world. She sees the great Art Treasures of the universe, and reads their, spiritual meaning. The face of her friend Dante is very expressive too. He cannot see the wonders which are open to Beatrice. He can see only the expression of her face, but that is so holy, and grand, and peaceful, that of itself it fills him with awe and wonder, and brings him into sympathy with herself. Just so, we have seen men, such as Dr. Channing, giving themselves up to gaze upon the vision of God, and God's love as manifested around us and in us, and their whole life and character, their words and deeds, become heavenly. People who come under their influence cannot perhaps yet see the same great truths which they behold, but they see that there is something in the character above themselves, and they are influenced by it, and unconsciously brought into sympathy with it. And now, understanding the nature of the great Art Treasures of God, we can see the meaning of this smaller Art Treasures formed by man. Man's art is but a representation of God's art. But why then is it represented, when we have the reality? Just to call our attention, and fix it upon it. The Artist is the prophet of the Beautiful. God has given him a soul to feel the beautiful more than others. And what he feels to be beautiful be represents; and by being fixed in a picture the mind of the spectator dwells upon it until it also feels it. Man's art is the mirror. in which most of us see God's art reflected, before we feel its beauty. Go then, readers, to the Exhibition, that you may be taught how beautiful is the world in which you live. When you look at those wondrous landscapes, mountains and clouds-lakes and streamswoods and green fields-and human forms,-let your criticism be of this kind;-did the artist when he painted that picture, see some beauty of God's great art, which he wanted to make known to his fellowmen? If you can feel "yes," then look at it with reverence. Next say, has the artist seemed successful in his representation? Does his work really help me as much as it might do to feel God's art? If so, then look at it with still greater reverence. But if you cannot answer yes to the first question, if it appears to you that the artist has used his power only for the purpose of showing his wondrous skill, or wasted it on frivolous things, thatwhile there were so many great things in the universe to paint did not deserve to be embalmed in golden. art; then, however cleverly he has painted, do not be led astray. Thank him for what he has given-gaze and benefit—but say, you were not the true, the prophet artist, and I cannot compare you to your nobler brethren. Hence, look in every picture more at the thing represented, than the mere skill in representation. Ask of the landscapes, do they reveal any real striking beauty of God's world? Ask of the figures, do they reveal any of the beauty of human life. Of the beauty of God's outer world, there is indeed much in the exhibition; of the beauty of human life much, but still less than there might be. There is a subject again and again repeated by the old Masters,-the Virgin and Child. This painting, to our minds, represents some of the beauty of the soul or human life. The mother, while pressing her child to her bosom, is almost always looking away from it, as if in deep meditation. The face is full of a sweet awe and reverence, as well as modesty and tenderness. This painting expresses to us what every mother ought to be who feels the greatness of human nature. Mary is filled not only with deepest love for her child, but with awe, der, veneration for the destiny which lies before him. She is amazed that she should be called to be the mother of such a being. So should every mother feel. A very son of God is given to her keeping, and the eternal God is breathing his very life into him. If each Christian mother could only keep her reverence for humanity as the child of God, how soon the world would be changed. won Once more the beauty of human life is represented in that picture of the queen of Hungary giving alms to the poor in that of the old man taking leave of his emigrant son-in that of the soldier returning from the wars, creeping to the window of his cottage full of fears, while his wife within is weeping over her little one, scarcely daring to hope for his return. Any picture that shows us any of the nobler feelings of our naturé, or the actions that flow from them, shows us the beauty of human life. Any picture that makes us feel the nobleness of the nobler feelings, by showing us the ugliness of the character that disobeys them, also makes us feel the beauty of human life; take for example the picture of the Misers, and the pictures of those wicked ugly Cæsars. (To be continued.) |