the back apartment to proceed with the|ter of Paris, in wax, and in clay, some of work. which are to this day preserved - not so much because of their merit, as because they are curious as the first halting efforts of true genius. A child's cough from behind the counter here startled the clergyman's ear, and he peeped over. The invalid boy was not mounted on his usual cushioned seat at the counter that day, but sat on a small chair behind it, with a larger chair before him, on which lay a book he was apparently engaged in reading. The clergyman was struck by the fine clear eyes of the boy, and his large beautiful forehead, which gave him a look of intelligence far beyond his years. "What are you busy with there, my boy?" he asked. The youth raised himself up on his crutches, bowed, and said, "Sir, it is a Latin book, and I am trying to learn it." "A Latin book? Let me see it." And the benevolent clergyman stooped over for the book. It was a Cornelius Nepos, which the boy's father had picked up at some cheap bookstall, for fourpence. "Very good," said Mr. Mathews; "but this is not the proper book. I'll bring you a right one to-morrow." "Thank you, sir, thank you," said the boy. From that introduction to the little boy behind the shop-counter an acquaintance began, which, the Rev. Mr. Mathews used to say, "ripened into one of the best friendships of my life.' And, strange to say, he afterwards regarded it as an honor and a distinction to reckon that poor stucco-plasterer's boy as his friend. The boy could not yet walk, though he was learning to hobble about on crutches, at the time when George II. died. He could not accompany his father to see the procession_at the coronation of George III.; but he pleaded earnestly that he should have one of the medals which were that day to be distributed among the crowd. The father struggled to procure one for his poor cripple-boy at home; but no! In the scramble for the medals, stronger and more agile persons pushed the image-seller to one side; he obtained a plated button, bearing the stamp of a horse and jockey, which he presented to his son as "the coronation medal." The boy expressed his surprise at such a device, and not long after he found out that he had been deceived. The father did not think of the moral injury he had done to the boy by his piece of acted deceit, well-intentioned though it might be such things are not forgotten, and they are always injurious. But the fine nature of this boy could endure much, and he outlived the little wrong. One of his practices at this time was to take impressions of all seals and medals that pleased him, and it was for this that he had longed for the "coronation medal." What he made of the horse and jockey, we have not been informed; but, when once reminded, after he had become a man, of these early childish pursuits, he observed - "We are never too young to learn what is useful, nor too old to grow wise and good." - One day, the boy had been rambling in the parks for a sudden flush of health came upon him about his tenth year, which enabled him to throw aside his crutches-and on his return, his mother sprang to meet him. Johnny!" she exclaimed, "you'll not guess? I have just had Mr. Mathews here, and what do you think?" "Well, mother, has he brought me the Homer back? He promised it some of these days." Mr. Mathews was as good as his word. He brought several books to the little boy; amongst others, Homer and Don Quixote, in both of which the youth ever after took immense delight. His mind was soon full of the heroism which breathed through the pages of Homer; and with the stucco Ajaxes and Achilleses about him, looming along the shop shelves, the ambition took possession of him, that he too would design and embody in poetic forms these majestic heroes. The black chalk was at once in his hand, and the enthusiastic young artist labored in a "divine despair" to body forth the shapes and actions of the Greeks and the Trojans. Like all youthful efforts, of course the designs were crude. The proud father one day showed them to Roubilliac, the eminent sculptor, but he turned from them with a "Pshaw!" He saw no indications of talent in them. What could be expected of a child, then only seven years old? But the boy had the right stuff in him; he had industry and patience― patience, in the world?” which Buffon has defined genius to be. The "Capital!" cried the youth, clapping his solitary boy labored at his books, and draw-hands. 66 No, Johnny, not that; guess again. But no, you can never guess. Well, then, he has invited you to his own house, where you are to meet Mrs. Barbauld, the lady that writes the beautiful stories, you know; and Mrs. Mathews, the clergyman's beautiful lady, has promised to read and explain Homer to you herself! Well, now is n't our Johnny rising 66 ings, and models, incessantly. He essayed Well, now," continued his mother, “I his young powers in modelling figures in plas- must have your face washed, and your pretty hair brushed, and your Sunday clothes put on; for you are going to meet ladies at a party, you know.' 66 Well, dear mother, be it so; but be quick, will you for I am so anxious to go.' And sure enough, about five o'clock in the evening twilight a little boy might be observed humbly knocking at the door of an elegant house in Rathbone Place. He was plainly but neatly dressed diminutive in figure, and slightly deformed; his features, usually pallid, were flushed on this occasion, as they well might be his whole frame being in a glow with anticipated pleasure and delight. The door was opened by a waiting-man, who gazed with surprise at the boy when he told his errand that he had come to the party." "Wait in the lobby, my boy- there may be some mistake;" and he ran upstairs to the drawing-room, where were Mrs. Montague, Mrs. Chapone, and Mrs. Barbauld, with the lady of the house. The servant explained his message. "Show up John Flaxman," she said at once, her eye brightening; and, turning to Mrs. Barbauld · This is the little boy I told you of. He is really a fine fellow, with the true soul of a genius. I really believe he has in him the germs of a great man; and such as we, who have means and leisure, cannot bestow them better than in carefully fostering what may prove a source of general happiness and blessings. You call ine an enthusiast, I know," continued Mrs. Mathews, with a fascinating smile; but I have invited this boy to show you that in this case I have not been zealous overmuch." " And so saying, the little visitor, John Flaxman, was ushered into the drawing-room. II. PROGRESS. Many a delightful evening-for long years after remembered by John Flaxman with pleasure and affection and gratitude did the young artist spend by the fire-side of Mrs. Mathews and her kind-hearted husband. She read Homer, Virgil, and Milton, pointing out their beauties, explaining their ideas, and discoursing from time to time upon the characters which move across their pages. It was a great opportunity for the boy, and he was wise enough to profit by it. Under Mrs. Mathew's eye, he began the study of Latin and Greek, which he prosecuted at home. He used to bring with him, too, his bit of charcoal, and while the accomplished lady commented on the pictorial beauty of Homer's poetry, the boy by her side eagerly endeavored to embody upon paper, in outline forms, such passages as caught his fancy. A beautiful picture this, of the accomplished woman turning aside from the glittering society in which she had her allotted place, to devote her evenings to the intellectual culture of a poor, illiterate, unknown plastercast-seller's boy! Thanks, however, to her kind care and culture, the boy did not remain unknown; the genius thus cherished, in due time revealed itself for from the chisel of Flaxman have come some of the noblest works of art which England has ever produced. And when Flaxman's praise is sounded, in justice to her memory let the name of the good Mrs. Mathews, to whom he owed so much, be affectionately remembered. Many of these juvenile productions — executed at Mrs. Mathew's side -are still in existence, and display much quiet loveliness as well as sometimes graphic power. Yet not long before this, Mortimer, the artist, to whom the boy exhibited his drawing of a human eye, exclaimed to him, "What sir! is that an oyster?" The sensitive boy was very much hurt, and took care not to show his drawings to artists for some time to come; for artists, though themselves very thin-skinned, are disposed to be rather savage in their criticisms of others. But an artist and a sculptor the boy Flaxman had now determined to be; and he labored at self-improvement with all possible zeal and industry. He modelled and drew almost incessantly. He was mainly his own teacher, as every truly great man must be. He used all helps to forward him in his studies, gathering his knowledge from all sources, and ready often to invent methods for himself, after a kind of inspiration in which true genius is usually so apt. The boy found patrons and helpers, too. Some of the visitors at Mrs. Mathews', greatly admiring his designs after Homer, desired to possess some drawings by the same hand; and Mr. Crutchley, of Sunning-hill Park, gave him a commission to draw a set for him in black chalk. His first commission! What a great event was that in the boy's life! A physician's first fee, a lawyer's first retainer, an actress' first night behind the footlights, a legislator's first speech in the Commons, an author's first book, are not any of them more full of interest and anxiety than is the first commission to the artist! And the boy-artist well and duly executed his first commission; it was a set of six drawings of subjects from antiquity, chiefly after Homer - and he was both well-praised and well-paid for his work. Still he went on studying. His kind friend Mr. Mathews guarded him against indulgence in vanity- - that besetting sin of clever youths - but Flaxman knew too well his own defects, and he relaxed not in his labors, but only applied himself more closely than before. He was fifteen when he entered a student at the Royal Academy. He might then be seen generally in the company of Blake and Stothard-young men of kindred tastes and genius-gentle and amiable, yet earnest in The boy had now become a young man, Of course, everybody prophesied that young Flaxman would carry off the gold medal; there was no student who, for ability and industry, was to be compared with him; and when his candidature for the medal was known, all his fellow-students shouted out in one voice, "Flaxman! Flaxman!" as if none but he was worthy to win the prize. The eventful day arrived. Old Flaxman - 541 meet him. The boy's face was downcast, and 66 66 Well, John, what of the medal?” I have lost it, father." There was a minute of perfect silence- 66 Engleheart. I am sure I wish him well; but I cannot help thinking that I deserved the prize. However, be that as it may, I am determined, if I live, yet to model works that the Academy will be proud to recognize." "Said like a true Flaxman, John. Cheer up! You will take the medal yet.' "I will not try again, father; but I will do better. Only give me time, and I will show them something beyond an Academy prize model." This failure on the part of the young Flaxman was really of service to him. Defeats do not cast down the resolute-hearted, but only serve to call forth their power of will and spared resolution. He redoubled his efforts no pains with himself-designed and modelled incessantly, and labored diligently and perseveringly in the work of self-improve ment. But poverty threatened the household of his poor father, the profits of whose trade, at that day by no means remunerative, but barely served to "keep the wolf from the door." So the youth was under the necessity of curtailing his hours of study in order to devote a larger portion of his time to the bread-andcheese department. He laid aside his Homer and took up his plaster-trowel. He forsook Milton to multiply stucco casts. He was found willing to work in any department of his calling, so that he might thereby earn money. To this drudgery of his art he served a long and rude apprenticeship; but it did him good. It familiarized him with work, and cultivated in him the spirit of patience. The discipline may have been rough, but it was wholesome. Happily, the young Flaxman's skill in design had reached the ears of one of the great patrons of art in those days Josiah Wedgwood, the Staffordshire potter, who sought out the lad with the view of employing him in the improvement of his crockery-ware. It may seem a very humble A true artist may be department of art to have labored in; really it was not so. laboring in the highest vocation, even while he is sketching a design for a teapot or a dinner-plate. Articles which are in daily use among the people, and are before their eyes at every meal they sit down to, may be made the vehicles of art education to all, and minister to their highest culture. Even the best artist may thus be conferring a much greater but practical benefit upon his countrymen than by painting an elaborate picture, which he may sell for a thousand pounds to a lord, to be by him forthwith carried off to his country palace, and virtually hidden there. The enterprising Josiah Wedgwood was a most energetic man, possessed of great public spirit. He desired to push his trade, and while he benefitted himself he also sought to improve the public tastes. Before his day, the designs which figured upon our china and stone-ware were of a hideous description bad in drawing, bad in design, and bad in execution. Josiah Wedgwood found out Flax man. "Well, my lad," said he to him, "I have heard that you are a good draughtsman and a clever designer. I'm a pot manufacturer name, Wedgwood. Now I want you to design some models for me — nothing fantastic, you know, but simple, tasteful, and correct in drawing. I'll pay you well. Do you understand? You don't think the work beneath you? Eh?" -- ous pieces of earthen ware. They consisted chiefly of small groups in very low relief-the subjects taken from ancient verse and history. Many of them are still in existence, and some are equal in beauty and simplicity to his after designs for marble. The celebrated Etruscan vases, many of which were to be found in public museums and in the cabinets of the curious, furnished him with the best examples of form, and these he embellished with his own elegant devices. Stuart's Athens, then recently published, also furnished him with specimens of the purest-shaped Greek utensils, and he was not slow to adopt the best of them, and work them up into new and wondrous shapes of elegance and beauty. Flaxman then saw that he was laboring in a great work-no less than the promotion of popular education; and he was proud, in after life, to allude to these his early labors, by which he was enabled at the same time to cultivate his love of the beautiful, to diffuse a taste for art among the people, and to replenish his own purse while he greatly promoted the prosperi By no means, sir," answered young Flax-ty of his friend and benefactor. man; "indeed, the work is quite to my taste. Give me a few days-call again, and you shall see what I can do." ANECDOTE OF GENERAL WASHINGTON.-Towards the fall of the year 1775, General Washington and staff visited Chelsea on horseback, to view the features of the land thereabouts. They went from the camp in Cambridge, through Medford and Malden, and stopped by the way for rest and refreshment at the residence of Mr. John Dexter, situated in Malden, by the brook, just before you enter the central village on the north side of the old road leading from Medford. This house was about fifteen rods from the street, and distinguished for its convenience and the beauty of its situation, having many stately elm trees growing in regular lines in an open park in front, besides others growing by the roadside near, and was thus well calculated to tempt a troup of weary horsemen on a summer's day to dismount, to enjoy the coolness of the shade and the hospitalities of the mansion. Here Washington and Engaged in such labors as these, for several years Flaxman executed but few works of art, and then at rare intervals. He lived a quiet, secluded, and simple life, working during the day and sketching and reading in the evenings. He was so poor that he had as yet been only able to find plaster of Paris for his works marble was too dear a material for him. He had hitherto executed only one statue in the latter material, and that was a commission. At length, in the year 1782, when twentyseven years of age, he quited his father's roof and rented a small house and studio in Wardour Street, Soho; and, what was more, he married a wife-an event which proved to him of no small consequence, as we shall find from the events in his future history. his suite alighted, and, after hitching their horses under the trees, entered the house by invitation of Mr. Dexter, and partook of refreshments. When the party came out to remount their horses, one of the gentlemen accidentally knocked off a stone from one of the walls which run along from the house to the street outside of the rows of trees. Washington remarked to him that he had better replace the stone. The officer, having remounted, replied, "No, I will leave that for somebody else to do." Washington then went quietly and replaced the stone himself, saying, as he did so, "I always make it my rule when visiting a place to leave things in as good order as I find them.". This incident was related to us by Captain Richard Dexter, the son of the said John Dexter, who was a witness of the facts related, and at the time about nineteen years of age. Bunker Hill Aurora. From the Gentleman's Magazine. WHEN it is said that Hadrian was the first Roman emperor who wore a wig, nothing more is meant than that he was the first who avowedly wore one. They were common enough before his time. Caligula and Messalina put them on for purposes of disguise when they were abroad at night; and Otho condescended to conceal his baldness with what he fain hoped his subjects would accept as a natural head of hair becoming to one who bore the name of Cæsar. could describe so tenderly and appreciate so well what was lovely in girlhood, whips his butterflies into dragons at the bare idea of a nymph in a toupee. Venus Anadyomene herself would have had no charms for that gentle sigher of sweet and enervating sounds had she wooed him in borrowed hair. If he was not particular touching morals he was very strict concerning curls.. If the classical poets winged their satirical shafts against wigs, these were as little spared by the mimic thunderbolts of the fathers, councils, and canons of the early church. Heathen poets and Christian elders could no As for the origin of wigs, the honor of the more digest human hair than can the crocoinvention is attributed to the luxurious Iapy- dile, of whom dead, it is said, you may know gians in southern Italy. The Louvain theolo- how many individuals he devoured living, by gians, who published a French version of the the number of hair-balls in the stomach, Bible, affected however to discover the first which can neither digest nor eject them. The mention of perukes in a passage in the fourth indignation of Tertullian respecting these said chapter of Isaiah. The Vulgate has these wigs is something perfectly terrific. Not words: "Decalvabit Dominus verticem filia- less is that of St. Gregory of Nazianzen, who rum Sion, et Dominus crinem earum nudabit ;" especially vouches for the virtue of his simple this the Louvain gentlemen translated into sister Gorgonia, for the reason that she neither French as follows: "Le Seigneur dechevelera cared to curl her own hair or repair its lack les têtes des filles de Sion, et le Seigneur de- of beauty by the aid of a wig. The thunder couvrira leurs perruques ;" the which," done of St. Jerome against these adornments was into English," implies that the Lord will quite as loud as that of any of the fathers. pluck the hair from the heads of the daughters They were preached against as unbecoming of Sion, and will expose their perriwigs." Christianity. Council after council, from the In this free and easy translation the theolo- first at Constantinople to the last provincial gians in question followed no less an authority council at Tours, denounced wigs even when than St. Paulinus of Nola, and thus had re- worn in joke. "There is no joke in the matspectable warrant for their singular mistake. ter," exclaimed the exceedingly irate St. Allusions to wigs are frequently made both Bernard-"the woman who wears a wig by historians and poets of the ancient times. commits a mortal sin." St. John ChrysosWe know that they were worn by fashionable tom cites St. Paul against the fashion, argugentlemen in Palmyra and Baalbec, and that ing that they who prayed or preached in wigs the Lycians took to them out of necessity. could not be said to worship or teach the When their conqueror Mausoleus had ruth- word of God with head uncovered. "Look," lessly ordered all their heads to be shaven, says Cyprian to the wearers of false hair," the poor Lycians felt themselves so supremely "Look at the Pagans; they pray in veilsridiculous that they induced the king's general, what better are you than Pagans if you come Condales, by means of an irresistible bribe, to to prayers in perukes?" Many local synods permit them to import wigs from Greece; would authorize no fashion of wearing the and the symbol of their degradation became hair but straight and short. This form was the very pink of Lycian fashion. especially enjoined on the clergy generally. Hannibal was, as Captain Bluff says of him St. Ambrose as strictly enjoined the fashion in Fielding's Amelia, à very pretty fellow in upon the ladies of his diocese. "Do not talk his day. But for so stout a soldier he was on to me of curls," said this hard-worded prethe article of perukes as finical as Jessamy late; "they are the lenocinia formæ non and as particular as Ranger-as nice about præcepta virtutis !" The ladies smiled. It their fashion as the former, and as philosoph- was to some such obdurate and beautiful ical as the latter upon their look. Hannibal wore them sometimes to improve, sometimes to disguise his person; and, if he wore one long enough to spoil its beauty, he was as glad as the airy gentleman in The Suspicious Husband to fling it aside when it wore a "battered" aspect. Ovid and Martial celebrate the gold-colored wigs of Germany. The latter writer is very severe upon the dandies and coquettes of his day, who thought to win attraction under a wig. Propertius, who rebels that Cyprian once gravely preached on the text chosen by Sidney Smith when he took leave of his fashionable congregation in Fitzroy Chapel-"Thou shalt not commit adultery!" "Give heed to me, oh ye women," said the older preacher; "adultery is a grievous sin, but she who wears false hair is guilty of a greater!" It must have been a comfortable state of society when two angry ladies could exclaim to cach other :" "You may say of me what you please; you may |