The Venetian embassador at Rome became an admirer and patron of the sculptor. He placed at his command a block of fine marble, and suggested a subject for a group-Theseus, conqueror of the Minotaur. The work was conducted throughout in the palace of the embassador, and every kind of assistance was rendered to the artist. In this work Canova followed those true principles by which he had proposed to himself to be guided in his works-a composition by which a new path was opened to all productions of imitative art. The embassador, who watched the progress of the work with true art enthusiasm, obtained a cast of the head of Theseus as soon as it was ready, and displayed it to a party of artists and critics who were assembled in his house. He took the precaution not to inform them whence it came, and they uttered a profound opinion that it was of Grecian origin, varying, however, on some points of merit. Several thought they had seen the marble from which it had been taken, not being able to recollect exactly where it was. Delighted and flattered with the result of his experiment, the embassador led them into the studio of the artist, and placed them before the entire group. Their surprise was only exceeded by their admiration. They saw and acknowledged that a new era in art had commenced.

Important employment was now not difficult to obtain. He received a commission to execute the monument of Pope Clement the Fourteenth for the church of the SS. Apostoli in Rome. This fine work was exhibited in 1787, and established Canova's claim to the highest rank in his profession. Before it was completed, Canova had commenced Clement the Thirteenth's monument for St. Peter's, a splendid work of genius and executive skill. A story is told in Rome of Canova putting on a monk's dress and cowl, and in this disguise mixing with the crowd, to hear the criticisms that were made when the work was first exposed to public view.

Canova's powers of imagination were superb, and in works demanding their exercise he was unsurpassed. In the mere mechanical portions of his business he had many superiors. His busts were not considered remarkable. It is not strange, therefore, that he devoted himself to subjects requiring an exercise of the higher order of genius. To recapitulate the works which he produced in rapid succession would be tedious and unnecessary. Of statues and groups he executed forty; of busts, eleven; of

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monuments, sixteen; of bas reliefs (principally in models), fifteen. Many of these productions were of colossal proportions, and most of them of the size of life. To accomplish so much, Canova applied himself with unflagging industry to his vocation. In his habits he was regular and moderate. He rose early, and immediately proceeded to his studio, where he worked on his models for a time, and then proceeded with the chisel. In the mere manual labor of the sculptor Canova introduced some innovations, which account in a great measure for the multiplicity of his works. Up to this time it was customary for the artist to execute all his own work, from the rough hewing of the marble to the last touch of the chisel. Much valuable time was necessarily expended in the first operation without any commensurate result, for an ordinary stone-cutter was quite as capable of sawing off a piece of marble as Canova himself. It occurred to the latter, therefore, that, by making the models similar in size to the statues, he could employ a number of dexterous assistants, who would relieve him of all the mechanical drudgery of the business. He made the experiment, and succeeded. Every sculptor of the present day has his studio liberally supplied with assistants.

Canova traveled, when young, over part of Germany, and was twice in Paris. At his last visit, when sent there by the Roman government to superintend the removal of the works of art which had been seized by the French army, and which the allies had decided should be restored to Italy, he proceeded to England, chiefly for the purpose of seeing the Elgin marbles, of which he expressed the highest admiration. His reception in that country was extremely cordial, and was a subject of much pleasure to him. On his return to Rome he received a patent of nobility, and was created Marquis of Ischia. With a republican feeling remarkable as it was creditable, he never adopted this title, but to the last called himself Antonio Canova-a far preferable name than the Marquis of Ischia in many people's estimation. It is worthy of remark in this connection, that one of Canova's best works was executed for America. It was the sitting statue of Washington, in marble, executed for the United States, and forwarded to America in 1820.

In the month of May, 1822, Canova went to Naples to inspect some preparations for a colossal work, and returned to Rome with a tendency to disorder in his stomach, which was always badly

affected by that climate. Not having entirely recovered from this attack, he determined on a visit to his native place, and on the 17th of September arrived at Possagno. Unfortunately, the journey was too severe for his constitution, and aggravated the complaint under which he labored. He was very ill on his arrival, but did not take to his bed, expecting relief from his native air and the waters of Recodro. All was unavailing. On the 4th of October Canova arrived at Venice, intending to stay there a few days; but, continuing to get gradually worse, he received the last offices of religion, and resigned himself to die with the utmost constancy and serenity, uttering only short sentences of a pious character to those who attended him. Approaching his end, he said to those who moistened his dying lips, "Good, very good; but it is in vain." His last words were, "Pure and lovely spirit." These he uttered several times just before he expired. He spoke no more; but his visage became, and continued for some time, highly radiant and expressive, as if his mind was absorbed in some sublime conception, creating powerful and unusual emotions in all around him.

Canova was a man of the most amiable and conciliatory manners, extremely friendly and gentle toward his fellow-artists, and encouraging and liberal toward the numerous students who filled his studio. To several of the latter, whose means were scanty, he gave pensions, to enable them to prosecute their studies. He also established out of his own purse a handsome premium for sculpture in the Academy of St. Luke at Rome, of which he was president. In personal appearance Canova was rather below the common stature, and toward the close of his life stooped as he walked. His features were strongly-marked, but well-formed, his nose aquiline, and his eyes deeply set and full of expression. The general expression of his countenance was genial and pleasing.

Concerning the merit of his works, a competent critic remarks that, in execution and the whole treatment of his marble, Canova was unrivaled; but those who judge of sculpture by the pure principles of Greek art (or, in other words, of nature, selected and exhibited in its finest and most approved forms), will discover in many of his works some affectation, both in the attitudes and expression, and a littleness in some of the details, which are not in accordance with the simplicity and breadth of style of the best

productions of the ancients. Admitting this to be the case (particularly in some of his later performances), still his works evince so great a progress in art, and in many respects approach so much more nearly than those that had for a long period preceded them to the excellence of ancient sculpture, that Canova must be confessed to be one of the great regenerators of the art; and his name, as the restorer of a purer style of design, will always be held in honor by those who wish to see sculpture practiced upon true principles.

PHILIP VAYRINGE.

MECHANICAL genius of a high order is a gift so rare in the world, that the few men who have possessed it in an eminent degree are certainly worthy of remembrance. The subject of this sketch, although unknown in the present century, was in his day considered remarkable enough to merit the appellation of the Lotharingian Archimedes. Philip Vayringe was a native of Lorraine, born in 1684 at Nouilloupont, a small village which is situated in the department of the Meuse, between Longwy and Verdun. He was one of a large family, and at an early age experienced harsh treatment from a step-mother, which induced him to run away from home. It was his intention on this occasion (he was ten years old, and could scarcely spell his name correctly) to make a pilgrimage to Rome; but, before he got very far on his way, he met two of his schoolfellows, who prevailed on him to return to the paternal roof. Philip, however, became so enamored of the town of Metz, through which they passed, that he gave his companions the slip, and made up his mind to remain there. Strolling about the town, he was first attracted by the operations of a locksmith, who sat working at his bench near the open window. Observing the youth's curiosity, the artisan spoke to him, asked him some commonplace questions, and finally wound up by offering to take him into his employ at the liberal stipend of tenpence a month. Philip accepted the terms on condition that he should be allowed to try to make a lock. The permission was, of course, readily granted, and he succeeded so well that an addition was at once made to his wage. In six months he had become so familiar with the business that he found no difficulty in getting employment at three times the price paid him by his first master..

In the following winter he returned to Nouilloupont, residing this time with a brother-in-law, who was at once a gunsmith and edge-tool maker. Philip was, of course, useful in such a shop, but a circumstance soon occurred which diverted his attention from the fabrication of locks. A clock was brought in to be re