* * * * *

LESTER, BRADY & DAVIGNON’s “Gallery of Illustrious Americans,” is very favorably noticed generally by the foreign critics. The Art Journal says of it:  “This work is, as its title imports, of a strictly national character, consisting of portraits and biographical sketches of twenty-four of the most eminent of the citizens of the Republic, since the death of Washington; beautifully lithographed from daguerreotypes.  Each number is devoted to a portrait and memoir, the first being that of General Taylor (eleventh President of the United States), the second, of John C. Calhoun.  Certainly, we have never seen more truthful copies of nature than these portraits; they carry in them an indelible stamp of all that earnestness and power for which our trans-Atlantic brethren have become famous, and are such heads as Lavater would have delighted to look upon.  They are, truly, speaking likenesses, and impress all who see them with the certainty of their accuracy, so self-evident is their character.  We are always rejoiced to notice a great nation doing honor to its great men; it is a noble duty which when properly done honors all concerned therewith.  We see no reason to doubt that America may in this instance rank with the greatest.”

* * * * *

DR. WAAGEN, so well known for his writings on Art, is at present in England for the purpose of adding to his knowledge of the private collection of pictures there, but principally to make himself acquainted with ancient illuminated manuscripts in several British collections.

* * * * *

A MONUMENT IN HONOR OF COWPER, THE POET, is proposed to be erected in Westminster Abbey, from a design by Marshall, the Sculptor, exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1849.

* * * * *

SUMMER VACATION.

THE FOURTH BOOK OF WORDSWORTH’S UNPUBLISHED POEM.[3]

  Bright was the summer’s noon when quickening steps
  Followed each other till a dreary moor
  Was crossed, a bare ridge clomb, upon whose top
  Standing alone, as from a rampart’s edge,
  I overlooked the bed of Windermere,
  Like a vast river, stretching in the sun. 
  With exultation at my feet I saw
  Lake, islands, promontories, gleaming bays,
  A universe of Nature’s fairest forms
  Proudly revealed with instantaneous burst,
  Magnificent, and beautiful, and gay. 
  I bounded down the hill shouting amain
  For the old Ferryman; to the shout the rocks
  Replied, and when the Charon of the flood
  Had stayed his oars, and touched the jutting pier,
  I did not step into the well-known boat
  Without a cordial greeting.  Thence with speed
  Up the familiar hill I took my way
  Toward that sweet Valley where I had been reared;
  ’Twas but a shore hour’s walk,