misconceived your meaning. If I have done so, I shall be sorry; if I do understand it, I have no hesitation to use your own words, "away with such "cant!” such" supernatural and super-artificial "twaddle!" I here put aside this bust, as I have already made an attack upon your full assemblage of marble gods, the mighty machinery of your

criticism.

I have said that statuary and poetry are two things. Statuary, as an art, is indebted to nature for only one thing, with which, indeed, she performs her wonders; turning a rude block into such a creature, sui generis, as now adorns the diningroom of Lansdown House, so beautiful, so perfectly beautiful, that I, Goth as I may seem to your Lordship, when I have the honour of being admitted as a guest, have sometimes forgot my soup to gaze. Art, then, is indebted to nature for nothing but the block; but for what is the statuary indebted to nature? for all his ideas. For though he might have been less fortunate than your Lordship, who have accidentally met in your travels so near a resemblance to Venus, as the Albanian girl, yet he could have had no ideas at all of beauty, except from nature; for if there had not been a beautiful human figure, and " thinking

things," my Lord, like you and me, upon earth, had other forms, neither of us could have had the least idea of that beauty, the conception of which

is first required in the sculptor. But let the art and artist have done all they can, they cannot render their image as perfect as poetry can; for she can give to the statue life, animation, tears, smiles, language, eyes that shine, &c.; and for these ideas poetry is indebted to nature.

The bust of Antinous, which seems even superior to all your other vanquished gods, to Mrs. UNWIN's needles themselves, I fear, also, must fall, like" Friar BACON'S HEAD!"

But as you have joined with this bust the "Poulterer's shop," and CowPER's "sylvan sampler" of trees, by way of saving time, I shall here say a word or two of poetical trees. Your Lordship does not seem to admire "trees." However, let us only remark that even Constantinople would be less poetical without them, and by putting them here together, the city and trees, I think I shall be able, not only to save time, but to "kill two "birds with one stone."

PORT OF CONSTANTINOPLE.

I have no doubt, from what I have read, the view you speak of is unique in picturesque and poetical beauty. But, my Lord, are there indeed no trees among the buildings ? No golden cupolas shining to the morn? Much as your Lordship dislikes "sylvan samplers," are there no beautiful palms, sleeping, as it were, in the sunshine, like an Albanian girl? No dark cypresses breaking the white buildings? As to the sylvan part of the landscape, I shall ask permission to quote a line of my own.

"Sees

"Damascus' golden fanes, and minarets, and TREES." I put the "trees" into the picture, my Lord, not for the sake of rhyme, which sometimes more sublime poets do; (and your Lordship well knows that rhyme

"The rudder is of verses,

"By which, like ships, they steer their courses:"

HUDIBRAS :)

but I assure you I put in these "odious trees," not for the sake of the rhyme, but to break the monotony of buildings, and to make them more poetical. I doubt how poetical even Constantinople would look without them; and to shew this, though not a grand voyageur, yet having seen the sea, not

only in a picture," but also in reality, I must take you from Constantinople, and the Hellespont, to that part of the sea with which I am most familiar, Southampton Water. The banks are hung almost entirely with wood, as far as the eye can reach.

"And forests sweep the margin of the main."

Now suppose the whole line was houses, would it be so poetical? I THINK NOT!

“And chimnies sweep the margin of the main."

If you say, the buildings, interspersed, add to the poetical effect of the trees, as well as the trees to them, I answer, "Doubtless!" But the test is this: which would be most poetical on the seaside a beautiful building without trees, or trees without buildings? The bust, and the trees, have led me a little out of my way, for I intended to have connected "The Needle" with

HOMER'S SPEAR, WARRIORS, ARMS, HELMETS, BOWS, &c.

"The shield of ACHILLES derives its poetical in"terest from the subjects described on it."-Bowles.

And from what does the spear of ACHILLES derive 'its interest? and the helmet and the mail worn by PATROCLUS; and the celestial armour, and the very 'brazen greaves, of the well-booted Greeks?"—Byron.

And now, if Mrs. UNWIN's needle and stockings will not much serve your Lordship, let us see what can be effected on your side as the champion of art versus NATURE, by the " spear" of ACHILLES.

But why did you take the spear, my Lord? What can the" spear" do, if the "shield" could do nothing? The helmet, of which you find CAMPBELL has made so poetical an use in O'CONNOR's Child, would have done better; but not to quail under the SPEAR of ACHILLES, even in the hands of Lord BYRON, I ask you, first, if the spear be poetical, is it more poetical than the warrior who uses it? The shield in HOMER, and the pastoral cup in THEOCRITUS, are described at large. These great