hearts of thousands upon thousands of people. It is familiar
knowledge among all classes and conditions of men. It is the great
feature within the Hall, and the constant topic of discourse
elsewhere. It has awakened in the great body of society a new
interest in, and a new perception and a new love of, Art. Students
of Art have sat before it, hour by hour, perusing in its many forms
of Beauty, lessons to delight the world, and raise themselves, its
future teachers, in its better estimation. Eyes well accustomed to
the glories of the Vatican, the galleries of Florence, all the
mightiest works of art in Europe, have grown dim before it with the
strong emotions it inspires; ignorant, unlettered, drudging men,
mere hewers and drawers, have gathered in a knot about it (as at our
back a week ago), and read it, in their homely language, as it were
a Book. In minds, the roughest and the most refined, it has alike
found quick response; and will, and must, so long as it shall hold
together.

For how can it be otherwise? Look up, upon the pressing throng who
strive to win distinction from the Guardian Genius of all noble
deeds and honourable renown,--a gentle Spirit, holding her fair
state for their reward and recognition (do not be alarmed, my Lord
Chamberlain; this is only in a picture); and say what young and
ardent heart may not find one to beat in unison with it--beat high
with generous aspiration like its own--in following their onward
course, as it is traced by this great pencil! Is it the Love of
Woman, in its truth and deep devotion, that inspires you? See it
here! Is it Glory, as the world has learned to call the pomp and
circumstance of arms? Behold it at the summit of its exaltation,
with its mailed hand resting on the altar where the Spirit
ministers. The Poet's laurel-crown, which they who sit on thrones