ed both of Music and the Muse. Under other
circumstances than those which invested him, it is not impossible that
he would have become a painter. The field of sculpture, although in
its nature rigidly poetical, was too limited in its extent and in its
consequences, to have occupied, at any time, much of his attention. And
I have now mentioned all the provinces in which even the most liberal
understanding of the poetic sentiment has declared this sentiment
capable of expatiating. I mean the most liberal public or recognized
conception of the idea involved in the phrase "poetic sentiment." But
Mr. Ellison imagined that the richest, and altogether the most natural
and most suitable province, had been blindly neglected. No definition
had spoken of the Landscape-Gardener, as of the poet; yet my friend
could not fail to perceive that the creation of the Landscape-Garden
offered to the true muse the most magnificent of opportunities.
Here was, indeed, the fairest field for the display of invention, or
imagination, in the endless combining of forms of novel Beauty; the
elements which should enter into combination being, at all times, and by
a vast superiority, the most glorious which the earth could afford.
In the multiform of the tree, and in the multicolor of the flower, he
recognized the most direct and the most energetic efforts of Nature
at physical loveliness. And in the direction or concentration of this
effort, or, still more properly, in its adaption to the eyes which were
to behold it upon earth, he perceived that he should be employing the
best means--laboring to the greatest advantage--in the fulfilment of his
destiny as Poet.

"Its adaptation to the eyes which were to behold it upon earth." In his
explanation of this phraseology, Mr. Ellison did much towards solving
what has always seemed to me an enigma. I mean the fact (which none but
the ignorant dispute,) that no such combinations of scenery exist in
Nature as the painter of genius has in his power to produce. No such
Paradises are to be found in reality as have glowed upon the canvass of
Claude. In the most enchanting of natural landscapes, there will always
be found a defect or an excess--many excesses and defects. While the
component parts may exceed, individually, the highest skill of the
artist, the arrangement of the parts will always be susceptible of
improvement. In short, no position can be attained, from which an
artistical eye, looking steadily, will