Those who have not learned to give form and shape to their ideas while on earth have to pursue a more painful and laborious process.

The modern school of color differs widely from the Venetian, being crude, cold, and sharp in comparison; and, in accounting for this difference, I can simply state that one can only represent what one sees.

The poetic, dreamy age, when men saw nature as through a veil, is past; the matter-of-fact, investigating mind has lifted that veil, and now sees objects as if in mid-day; but, as no condition is stationary, I am told that the mind is gradually moving on in the world of art to a point where it will again see nature in a more subdued and generalized light, as under the declining sun.

The past represented the morning, the present exhibits the noonday, and the future will indicate the evening.

Such is the constant revolution of mind, and its revolution though slow is certain.

In our works of art, sentiment is the prevailing characteristic.  Portraits are in great demand.

Spirits send portrait-painters to earth to obtain likenesses of their friends; and those spirit-artists who have the power of seeing the lineaments of these friends and portraying them are constantly engaged.

Leutze has been employed by Lincoln and others to represent scenes in the American rebellion; and Colonel Trumbull, also, has executed some magnificent pictures of the battles of Seven Pines, Fair Oaks, and a skirmish at Hampton Roads.

Stuart has completed a splendid portrait of General Grant, and is now engaged by John Jacob Astor on a likeness of a beautiful lady dwelling on earth.  I have received a commission from Mr. James Harper to paint a portrait of his daughter, who occupied the carriage with him when he lost his life.  I am at present engaged on a likeness of a lady residing at Albany.

COMEDIAN’S POETRY.

ROLLICKING SONG.

Hurrah! hurrah I my boys so bright,
For merry ghosts meet here to-night. 
We’ll sing and dance till dawn of day,
Then up we’ll mount, away! away! 
  Then up, up, and away!

We live in spirit land so gay,
And with grim Satan’s fires we play. 
You need not fear the future state,
For we will meet you at the gate. 
  Then up, up, and away!

Come, friends of earth, and read our bill,
’Tis called the “sugar-coated pill;”
’Twill sweeten all life’s bitter care,
And lead you up, the saints know where,
  Then up, up, and away!

Come laugh with us each man and wife;
A player’s stage is earthly life;
The sting of death is only a prick,
And hell the parson’s “trap-door trick,”
  Then up, up, and away!

Here’s Garrick, Booth, and Kean so bright,
They shine like stars to give you light. 
So haste and join the merry throng,
And loudly swell our happy song. 
  Then up, up, and away!