men of grecian
sculpture, is supposed to be the united production of Polydorus,
Athenodorus, and Agesander, but its great antiquity renders its history
somewhat dubious. In the beginning of the sixteenth century it was
discovered at Rome amongst the ruins of the palace of Titus, and
deposited in the Farnese palace, whence it has been removed to Paris, by
the orders of Bonaparte, after the conquest of Italy. It represents
Laocoon, the priest of Apollo and Neptune, and his two sons writhing in
the folds of two hideous serpents. The reader will remember the
beautiful lines of Virgil upon the subject,

"----------------et primum parva duorum
Corpora natorum serpens amplexus uterque
Implicat, et miseros morsu depascitur artus.
Post, ipsum auxilio subeuntem ac tela ferentem
Corripiunt, spirisque ligant ingentibus: et jam
Bis medium amplexi, bis collo squamea circum
Terga dati, superant capite et cervicibus altis.
Ille simul manibus tendit divellere nodos--"

Or, in the english habit which Dryden has given them,

"And first around the tender boys they wind,
Then with their sharpen'd fangs, their limbs and bodies grind.
The wretched father, running to their aid,
With pious haste, but vain, they next invade:
Twice round his waist the winding volumes roll'd,
And twice about his gasping throat they fold.
The priest, thus doubly chok'd, their crests divide,
And tow'ring o'er his head in triumphs ride.
With both his hands he labours at the knots--"

Pliny mentions this statue as the admiration of the age in which he
flourished.

I fear that I shall be guilty of a sort of profanation when I remark,
that the figures of the two sons of Laocoon appear to exhibit rather
more marks of maturity, and strength of muscle than are natural to their
size, and to the supposed tenderness of their age. It is, however, a
glorious work of art.

We next beheld the Belvidere Apollo. This statue, in my humble opinion,
surpasses every other in the collection. All the divinity of a god beams
through this unrivalled perfection of form. It is impossible to impart
the impressions which it inspires. The rivetted beholder is ready to
exclaim, with Adam, when he first discerns the approach of Raphael,

"--------------behold what glorious shape
Comes this way moving: seems another morn,
Risen on mid-noon; some great behest from Heav'n."

The imagination cannot form such