few statues or pictures. The patriotism of the nobles is excited by interests too powerful to require any subordinate assistance. If the government be founded on justice and virtue, the danger of luxury is apprehended;—if it be tyrannical, the still greater danger of intelligence and discontent. Honours, in which the artist is partaker with the hero, if they become necessary in such a government as this, announce the feebleness of its laws, and give presage of its ruin. Cato refused the honour of a statue,—this might perhaps be pride in him, but it was also the effect of his system:—in the opinion of Cato, he did no more in rejecting the statue than fulfil a duty incumbent on every patrician.
On the other hand, all the fine arts harmonize well with the monarchical form of government. The throne cannot be too much adorned. The power of the prince is increased by the splendour of the arts with which he is surrounded. What have they not done for the majesty of Francis, Leo, and Lewis? If the influence of particular tastes does not always permit them to enjoy durable success, it is nevertheless true, that the well-directed favours of a few princes have, at some remarkable periods, ensured to them the admiration of every succeeding age.
With regard to democracy—I mean those governments in which the democratical principle is predominant—the political liberty enjoyed by the artists under such a form of polity, has been too often confounded with the importance it sometimes attaches to the fine arts, with the occasion and the means which it affords for deliberate improvement, and maturity of excellence. A state governed in this manner, may be rich or poor, commercial or without commerce. If it be poor,—of small extent,—far from the sea,—and happy in its simplicity, the inhabitants of this fortunate land will have no need of adventitious and empassionating aids. But if, on the other hand, it is desired to unite commerce with liberty, and riches with morality,—the attempt is assuredly a bold one,—its success the masterpiece of legislative genius. It is necessary to inspire with love to his country, not the rich man alone, the noble, or the merchant, but him who knows not riches, but to feel that he is deprived of them—nor honours, but in those which he accords to other men; who, far from public offices, but too easily forgets the public interest, and almost always considers it as something separated from his own; whose carelessness, in fine, is yet more dangerous than either his errors or his impetuosity. The true objects for which the arts are fostered by such a government as this, is to impose on his imagination by majestic and imperishable monuments—to feed his enthusiasm by statues and pictures—by the commemoration of the illustrious deeds and the national grandeur, with the glory and the antiquity of the common ancestors of the people;—to immortalize for him the history of his country—to create magnificent public possessions for those who are poor in personal goods—to inspire and to nourish that national pride, which is one of the most unfailing signs of good laws, and one of the best omens of political endurance. The importance of their destination under such a government as this, calls down on the arts the anxious benevolence of the legislature. They find, moreover, yet another cause of perfection in the necessity of placing works intended for such purposes under the eyes of the public; and consequently, in order to save the glory of the whole nation,—they are obliged to follow no guide but the general taste. The union of these two causes in Athens, gave rise to the most brilliant and durable successes; and the motto at the head of this paper is a fair transcript of those feelings of romantic admiration with which every Athenian regarded the beauties and the magnificence of his native land.
But is it really true, that liberty would not be sufficient of herself alone to ensure the prosperity of the arts? The best way to answer this question is, to review the facts by which I conceive the theory I have laid down is to be supported. We have seen that the Greek people were divided into two classes, those who cultivated commerce, and those who did not. The arts followed the same division; in general, the commercial states were more favourable to the arts, and the uncommercial less. Among those which had no sort of application to commerce, whatever the form of government might be, the arts were ne-
