auty. A head
must be of a style either very stern or very chaste, to make
a deep impression on the beholder; there must be a great force
of will and withholding of resources, giving a sense of depth
below depth, which we call sternness; or else there must be
that purity, flowing as from an inexhaustible fountain through
every lineament, which drives far off or converts all baser
natures. Napoleon's head is of the first description; it is
stern, and not only so, but ruthless. Yet this ruthlessness
excites no aversion; the artist has caught its true character,
and given us here the Attila, the instrument of fate to serve
a purpose not his own. While looking on it, came full to mind
the well-known lines,--

'"Speak gently of his crimes:
Who knows, Scourge of God, but in His eyes, those crimes
Were virtues?"

His brows are tense and damp with the dews of thought. In that
head you see the great future, careless of the black and white
stones; and even when you turn to the voluptuous beauty of the
mouth, the impression remains so strong, that Russia's
snows, and mountains of the slain, seem the tragedy that must
naturally follow the appearance of such an actor. You turn
from him, feeling that he is a product not of the day, but of
the ages, and that the ages must judge him.

'Near him is a head of Ennius, very intellectual; self-centred
and self-fed; but wrung and gnawed by unceasing thoughts.

'Yet, even near the Ennius and Napoleon, our American men look
worthy to be perpetuated in marble or bronze, if it were only
for their air of calm, unpretending sagacity. If the young
American were to walk up an avenue lined with such effigies,
he might not feel called to such greatness as the strong Roman
wrinkles tell of, but he must feel that he could not live an
idle life, and should nerve himself to lift an Atlas weight
without repining or shrinking.

'The busts of Everett and Allston, though admirable as
every-day likenesses, deserved a genius of a different order
from Clevenger. Clevenger gives the man as he is at the
moment, but does not show the possibilities of his existence.
Even thus seen, the head of Mr. Everett brings back all the
age of Pericles, so refined and classic is its beauty. The
two busts of Mr. Webster, by Clevenger and Powers, a