circumstance after
another seems to threaten the capture of the beautiful fugitive. Though
the book belongs to the class of anti-slavery novels, it is not confined
to the subject of slavery, but includes a consideration of almost all
the "exciting topics" of the day, and treats of them all with singular
conscientiousness of spirit and vigor of thought.

_Rowse's Portrait of Emerson_. Published in Photograph. Boston: Williams
& Everett.

_Durand's Portrait of Bryant_. Engraved by Schoff & Jones. New York:
Published by the Century Club.

_Barry's Portrait of Whittier_. Published in Photograph. Boston:
Brainard.

Almost one of the lost arts is that of portraiture. Raised by Titian and
his contemporaries to the position of one of the noblest walks of Art,
and in the generations following depressed to the position of minister
to vanity and foolish pride, it has remained, during the most of the
years since, one of the lowest and least reputable of the fields
of artistic labor. The lost vein was broken into by Reynolds and
Gainsborough, who left a golden glory in all they did for us; but no
one came to inherit, and in England no one has since appeared worthy of
comparison with them. In all Europe there is no school of portraiture
worth notice; the so-called portrait-painters are only likeness-makers,
comparing with the true portraitist as a topographical draughtsman does
with a landscape artist. The intellectual elements of the artistic
character, which successful portraiture insists on, are some of its very
greatest,--if we admit, as it seems to us that we must, that imagination
is not strictly intellectual, but an inspiration, an exaltation of the
whole nature. To paint a great man, one must not merely comprehend
that he is great, but must in some sense rise up by the side of, and
sympathize with, his greatness,--must enter into and identify himself
with some essential quality of his character, which quality will be the
theme of his portrait. So it inevitably follows that the greatness of
the artist is the limitation of his art,--that he expresses in his work
himself as much as his subject, but no more of the latter than he can
comprehend and appreciate.

The distinction between the true and the false portraitist is that
between expression of something felt and representation of something
seen; and as the subtilest and noblest part of the human soul can only
be felt, as the signs of it in the face can be recognized a