, of an assembling of
most of the learned societies of our great city under one roof--a sort
of Palace of Science, which has long been wanting in London, but which
has long existed in Paris. Should this scheme be carried out, the
philosophers might then adopt Brother Jonathan's motto--_E pluribus
unum_. And, next, the Suburban Artisan School of Drawing and
Modelling, established last year at Camden-Town, has succeeded so well
that the committee, with Prince Albert as patron, have determined to
establish four additional schools in our other suburban districts.
These schools are to be open every evening for instruction, at a
charge per month of 2s. No working-man in the metropolis after this
need be ignorant of drawing. Then, again, a 'Department of Practical
Art' is organised in connection with the Board of Trade, which, by
means of travelling and stationary superintendents, and other
officers, is to assist in the development of artistic talent, and its
application to useful purposes, wherever it may be found.
Co-operation of some sort or other is the order of the day; and now a
good deal of attention is excited by the announcement of an 'Athenaeum
Institute for Authors and Artists,' something different from the Guild
of Literature and Art set afoot last winter, the object being to
endeavour to form an incorporated association of the two classes
mentioned--of course for their common benefit. The aid of the
possessors of rank and wealth is to be asked at starting, because, as
the promoters say, 'we think literature has a right to ask the
assistance of these other two great powers of society, because it so
materially assists them; and because, in many of its branches, it has
no other mode of being paid by society. The severely scientific, the
highly imaginative, the profoundly legislative authors, do not produce
promptly marketable, though they produce priceless, works. La Place,
Wordsworth, Bentham, could not have existed had they depended on the
first product of their works; they would have perished before an
acknowledging world could have given them bread.' They say, further,
that 'the humblest literary man works for something more than hire,
and produces something more effective than a mere piece of
merchandise. His book is not only sold to the profit of the
bookseller, but to the benefit of the public. The publisher pays for
its mercantile value, but the public should reward the author for its
moral and social effec
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