became an elective governor of a republican people. But of Ames, how shall I speak? Himself has said, that it required a Hamilton to delineate the virtues of a Hamilton. Alas then for the virtues of Ames! The finest talents my country can produce will be unable to transmit to posterity any adequate conception of that brilliancy of genius,-that affluence of tanguagethat prodigality of metaphor,that rich vein of sentiment, of wisdom, and of wit,-and that chivalric gayety of demeanor, with which he enlightened and fascinated every mind within the reach of his influence. He is a man of a figure above the middle size, of a thin habit of body; and of that sallow complexion, which is an indication, at once, of severe thought, and of nervous complaints. Indeed, I heard him say that he was afflicted with disease. But genius appears more interesting where it gleams through the infirmities of the body. Disease robs it of its imposing and authoritative mien,-it approaches you with so meek and amiable a deportment, that it wins your heart by awakening your compassion. His complaints were hypochondriacal; and his spirits depended on the winds and the clouds. This evening, however, his kindest planet was ascendant. He talked much, for he had much to communicate. His principal topics were politics, and the influence of France upon the concerns of our government: but religion, morals, literature and the characters of eminent men shared largely in his discourse. To me he addressed a most ingenious and poetic dissertation on the distinction between genius and taste. After discussing it metaphysically till the animation of discourse had lent a fire to his fancy, he burst forth into a strain of language and imagery of which it is given to but few men to produce, and to but few men to hear. Where all is sensation there is but little memory. The feelings he occasioned are present to my mind; but distinctness of recollection as it respects language is vanished. One metaphor, however, remains. "Genius," he said, "was a spider which generated her web from her own bowels; Taste was a bee which sipped her sweets from every flower." His quick conception of the poetic resemblances between objects,-his power of producing an ideal presence of the subjects he described, and the dignity as well as the animation of his manner, touched me with that hallowed pleasure and veneration which one may fancy he should feel in the presence of an angel. It has been said, that the poetry of the Arabians participates of the warmth and luxuriancy of their climate. The language of Ames was the poetry of Arabia,-it breathed with the rich perfumes of that country; and the flowers of his rhetoric appeared like the brilliant creations of an Indian sun. Chatham said of Burke, that he was the only man since Cicero, who wrote and spoke with equal elegance. The talents of writing and conversation are vastly different. So much depends upon the look,-the manner, the inflection of the voice, that what is luminous and affecting when spoken would be obscure and spiritless if written. Besides a man may have accumulated stores of knowledge, and possess a fertility of fancy, but be destitute of that readiness of conception and that fluency of speech which the sudden turns of conversation require.These two almost incompatible accomplishments of writing and speaking were, however, eminently blended in this wonderful man. His written compositions are some of the finest in the language; and of his colloquial productions, I will say of them what Raynal says of the compositions of the Indians, they possessed a grace, a softness, and a refinement both of expression and of sentiment. His speech was a sort of music so touching, it was a murmur so sweet, his comparisons were so gay and striking, that the language which he spoke in this world to his friends, appeared to be that, which he will speak in the next to the gods. In fine, when Ames dies, he deserves the same honour which was paid by the Athenians to Isocrates: he should have a column raised on his tomb, and on the top, there should be placed an image of a siren as the symbol of his eloquence. And when he does die (excuse my enthusiasm) some man should devote his time and his talents in holding forth to the public, the example of a character accomplished with every talent of a statesman and a scholar. He could perform no more essential service to his own and to every other age, than by dif La langue qu'ils parlent dans ce monde a leur maîtresse, semble être celle qu'ils parleront dans l'autre à leurs hoaris." fusing an admiration of the character of Ames. We naturally imitate what, we admire, and it is not possible to imitate Ames, without exalting human nature; and refining to perfection the love of virtue, of liberty, our country and mankind. THE FINE ARTS.-FOR THE PORT FOLIO. THE MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL.-LIFE OF DAVID. THE name of David stands in the French school preeminent alike for genius and for crime. When the revolutionary tempest desolated the loyalty of France, he forsook his pencil and became one of the directing demons of the storm. Amongst the number of that ferocious band who, by their suffrages, doomed their sovereign to death, we find the name of this painter. Unsatiated with the murder of his king, he became the ferocious confederate and adviser of the sanguinary Robespierre and Marat. His character may be collected from the following anecdote. He was once asked how many victims had fallen in one day to the frenzy which then pervaded France? and he replied, one hundred and twenty, only, and further added, that the heads of twenty thousand more must fall before the great work of philosophy could be accomplished. He would attend at the guillotine, and with perfect composure, catch the last agonies in the countenance of the expiring victim, and rejoice in the opportunity so afforded of imparting such horrible energy to his canThere is no fear, therefore, but that the name of David will descend to posterity. During the sanguinary scenes of the revolution he remained true to his party; but the republican David now finds in a monarchy that protection he denied in a republic. He is now the favourite painter of Buonaparte, and by a singular revolution of fortune, having assisted in the murder of one sovereign, becomes the flatterer of the next. Fortunate would it be for him if the works of his pencil were the only memorials of his name. But whatever his actions may have been, they cannot impair the splendid memorials of his genius. He is considered the most illustrious painter in France now living, and his vass. |