of the body.  The right arm is uplifted in a vigorous movement and holds aloft a blazing torch.  The left hand grasps a tablet on which the date of the Declaration of Independence appears; this is held rather close to the body and at a slight angle from it.  The head is that of a handsome, proud and brave woman.  It is crowned by a diadem.  The arrangement of the draperies is, if one may judge from the pictures, a feature of especial excellence in the design.  There is merit in the disposition of the peplum or that portion of the draperies flung back over the left shoulder, the folds of which hang obliquely (from the left shoulder to the right side of the waist and thence downward almost to the right knee,) thus breaking up the monotony of the perpendicular lines formed by the folds of the tunic beneath.  The movement of the uplifted right arm is characterized by a certain elan which, however, does not suggest violence; the carriage of the head is dignified, and so far as one may judge from a variety of prints, the face is fine in its proportions and expression.  I do not find the movement of the uplifted arm violent, and, on the whole, am inclined to believe the composition a very good one in its main features.  There will be an undeniable heaviness in the great masses of drapery, especially as seen from behind, but the illusion as to the size of the figure created by its elevation on a pedestal and foundation nearly twice as high as itself may do much towards obviating this objection.  The background of the figure will be the

  ...  Spacious firmament on high,
  With all the blue etherial sky,
  And spangled heavens ...

The island is far enough removed from the city so that no direct comparisons can be made between the statue and any buildings.  Seen from the deck of a steamer at a distance say of a quarter of a mile, the horizon, formed by the roofs, towers, spires and chimneys of three cities, will not appear higher than the lower half of the pedestal.  In other words the statue will neither be dwarfed nor magnified by the contiguity of any discordant objects.  It will stand alone.  The abstract idea, as has been said, is noble.  The plan of utilizing the statue as a lighthouse at night does not detract from its worth in this respect; it may be said to even emphasize the allegorial sense of the work.  “Liberty enlightening the world,” lights the way of the sailor in the crowded harbor of the second commercial city of the world.  The very magnitude of the work typifies, after a manner, the vast extent of our country, and the audacity of the scheme is not inappropriate in the place where it is to stand.  It may be, indeed, that when the statue is set up, we shall find it awkward and offensive, as some critics have already prophecied:  but that it must be so inevitably does not appear to me to be a logical deduction from the information we have at hand as to the artist and his plans.  It is freely admitted that no modern