the benefit of his successors.
In no country has Painting risen suddenly into eminence. While Poetry
takes wing at once, free and unincumbered, she is retarded in her ascent
by the very mechanism to which she must at last owe at least half her
glory. In Britain, Painting was centuries in throwing off the fetters of
mere mechanical skill, and in rising into the region of genius. The
original spirit of England had appeared in many a noble poem, while the
two sister arts were still servilely employed in preserving incredible
legends, in taking the likeness of the last saint whom credulity had
added to the calendar, and in confounding the acts of the apostles in
the darkness of allegory."

Then follows an outline of early Art in England, in the embellishment of
cathedrals, &c.; among which is the following notice of one of the
earliest of our attempts at historical portraiture which can be
authenticated:--

"It is a Painting on Wood; the figures are less than life, and represent
Henry the Fifth and his relations. It measures four feet six inches
long, by four feet four inches high, and was in the days of Catholic
power the altarpiece of the church of Shene. An angel stands in the
centre, holding in his hands the expanding coverings of two tents, out
of which the king, with three princes, and the queen, with four
princesses, are proceeding to kneel at two altars, where crosses, and
sceptres, and books are lying. They wear long and flowing robes, with
loose hair, and have crowns on their heads. In the background, St.
George appears in the air, combating with the dragon, while Cleodelinda
kneels in prayer beside a lamb. It is not, indeed, quite certain that
this curious work was made during the reign of Henry the Fifth, but
there can be little doubt of its being painted as early as that of his
son."

In the next page we have the following character of an English artist of
about the same period:--

"He was at once architect, sculptor, carpenter, goldsmith, armourer,
jeweller, saddler, tailor, and painter. There is extant, in Dugdale, a
curious example of the character of the times, and a scale by which we
can measure the public admiration of art. It is a contract between the
Earl of Warwick and John Rag, citizen and tailor, London, in which the
latter undertakes to execute the emblazonry of the earl's pageant in his
situation of ambassador to France. In the tailor's bill, gilded griffins
mingle with Virgin Marys; painted s