trait of a lady, which, in the catalogue, is
designated as "the White Plume," which had the reputation of
being the most admired in the collection, and the artist, Mr.
Ingham, is said to rank highest among the portrait-painters of
America. This picture is of very high finish, particularly the
drapery, which is most elaborately worked, even to the pile of
the velvet; the management of the light is much in the manner of
Good; but the drawing is very defective, and the contour, though
the face is a lovely one, hard and unfleshy. From all the
conversations on painting, which I listened to in America, I
found that the finish of drapery was considered as the highest
excellence, and next to this, the resemblance in a portrait; I
do not remember ever to have heard the words _drawing_ or
_composition_ used in any conversation on the subject.

One of the rooms of this academy has inscribed over its door,

ANTIQUE STATUE GALLERY

The door was open, but just within it was a screen, which
prevented any objects in the room being seen from without. Upon
my pausing to read this inscription, an old woman who appeared to
officiate as guardian of the gallery, hustled up, and addressing
me with an air of much mystery, said, "Now, ma'am, now; this is
just the time for you--nobody can see you--make haste."

I stared at her with unfeigned surprise, and disengaging my arm,
which she had taken apparently to hasten my movements, I very
gravely asked her meaning.

"Only, ma'am, that ladies like to go into that room by
themselves, when there be no gentlemen watching them."

On entering this mysterious apartment, the first thing I
remarked, was written paper, deprecating the disgusting depravity
which had led some of the visitors to mark and deface the casts
in a most indecent and shameless manner. This abomination has
unquestionably been occasioned by the coarse-minded custom which
sends alternate groups of males and females into the room. Were
the antique gallery thrown open to mixed parties of ladies and
gentlemen, it would soon cease. Till America has reached the
degree of refinement which permits of this, the antique casts
should not be exhibited to ladies at all. I never felt my
delicacy shocked at the Louvre, but I was strangely tempted to
resent as an affront the hint I received, that I might steal a
glance at what was deemed indecent. Perhaps the arrangements for
the exhibition of this room, the feelings