that all are well acquainted with the two former, I hasten to give a sketch of that proposed by the last author, M. F. Maury, Lieutenant United States Navy, than whom a more talented man in his profession there is not in all our country. After many arguments, cogent and solid, in favor of his "Circle Route," [which my limits do not permit me to quote, but which you may find in the Southern Literary Messenger and the May number of the Western Journal, of St. Louis,] he proceeds to shew that the nearest point on the Mississippi river, from China to the United States, via. Monterey on the Pacific, is Memphis, in Tennessee, and here I am certainly of his opinion; and, from the first perusal of his ably written arguments, concur in the selection of that city as the starting point from the Mississippi river on the great western route to the East Indies. Lieut. Maury proposes starting from the valley of the Arkansas, as a proper channel for a railroad across the Sierra to the head of the Gila, which empties into the Rio Colorado-and, by an improvement of that stream by dams and locks-pass down that stream to their junction at the head of the California Gulf. To this route I have but one serious objection, and from the general tenor of Lieut. Maury's letter, I judge that upon a more careful examination of the map of the country, he will perceive that I am correct.

From Memphis, a due west line will reach the Arkansas river on the old Cherokee trace, at the mouth of Point Remove creek. This, therefore, would be the most direct route to the Arkansas, but an impracticable one, in consequence of the nature of the country between the White river and the Arkansas. Therefore, from the White river at the mouth of Little Red, which is precisely in the direct line, a turn must be made up the valley of that stream, by which the summit or prairie level may be attained near the head of Cadron Creek, a small stream which empties into the Arkansas. By this the valley of Arkansas may be reached. Following that valley to the mouth of the Canadian river, the topography of the country from that point, demonstrates the only feasible route to the Sierra-which is, by the valley of that stream to its head, about forty-five miles east of Santa Fe. The objections to this route lie mainly at the head of the Canadian, which present themselves in the immense and deep canons through which that stream passes for more than fifty miles, some two thousand feet below the level of the country, the ascent to which is impracticable fora rail road from any point on that river. Cols. Long and Gregg describe the immense plain south of this stream, known as the "Staked Plains," as being sterile and barren beyond conception, of an altitude of more than 2,000 feet above the streams.

Driven from this route, we must return to Memphis and seek another against which no objections can be urged-but from the advantages which it naturally possesses above all others, entitle it to a proper consideration.

Monterey, on the Pacific, and the north bend of the White river, in the State of Missouri, are precisely on the same parallel of 36 deg. 38 min., Memphis being on the latitude of 25 deg. 38 min. A circle passing through Monterey and Memphis, must necessarily pass near Forsyth, and passing down White river, would make that stream its near neighbor in its whole distance to Big Black. From Memphis to Big Black, government has already prepared the road bed for a railroad; and from that point to Forsyth, should our contemplated work be completed, and from thence to the Missouri, we will have accomplished a large portion of the work to Santa Fe.

That a railroad to Santa Fe must go as far north as the valley of the Osage, I conceive no competent person acquainted with the nature of the country, will deny; hence, we must, from Osceola, follow the valley of the Osage to its head, which point is about fifty miles east of Council Grove, on the main trader's route from Independence to Santa Fe. From that point to Santa Fe a railroad can be constructed with more ease, and at less cost than in any section of the United States. The distance from Memphis to Santa Fe, by that route, will be as follows:

From Memphis to White river 85 miles, by railroad; from Big Black to Forsyth 125 miles, by slack water; from Forsyth to Osceola 115 miles, by railroad; from Osceola to Marie des Sygnes 50 miles, by slack water; from Marie des Sygnes, by Council Grove, to Santa Fe, 800 miles, by railroad-total, 1,175. Thus making the distance from Memphis to Santa Fe, 1,175 miles, by the valley of the Osage. Now, by the railroad route from Osceola to the Missouri river, at Independence we shall connect the Mississippi, at Memphis, with the upper Missouri-taking advantage of the whole of that trade, will lengthen the general route only forty miles; but, by a change from the slack water of the Osage, to the more rapidly moving rail cars, we shall gain in time, which, on this lengthy route, is quite a desideratum.

Having planned a route, in this hasty manner, from Memphis to Santa Fe, or some more convenient point on the Rio Grande, from that point we must seek a more practicable route to the mountains, over which we must pass to gain the great valley which lies immediately west of the Rio Colorado. We know that a route may be obtained by following the Rio Grande from Santa Fe to Christobal, or lower down, to Diego, and from thence west to the head of the Gila, and by slack water render that stream navigable to the head of the Gulf of California, and thence to Monterey; but this route carries us too far out of the great circle route, as near which we have endeavored to keep, as the nature of the country would admit. I would, therefore, propose the following route, until a farther examination of that Terra n Cognita, or Great Basin, described by Lieut. Col. Fremont,hich lies between the Colorado and the Sierra Nevada, east of Monterey, shall point out a more direct and practicable route, or force us to adopt the line of Gila. From Santa Fe, following up the valley of the Rio Grande, and ascending

the Rio Chama, we reach the summit of the Sierra Madre, where a branch of the Colorado, called the Jaquesella, takes its rise-down the valley of this stream to its junction with the Colorado-we obtain a practicable route. From the mouth of this stream, the Colorado may be easily rendered navigable for steamers of a large class to the head of the California Gulf. And from thence to San Diego, on the Pacific coast, a railroad may be constructed. And from the reports which we have of the country between San Diego and the head of the Rio San Buenaventura, we may readily obtain a practicable route to the bay of Monterey.

Having thus traced a route from Memphis, on the Mississippi river, to Monterey, on the Pacific, to carry out more at length the views suggested by Lieut. Maury, I have done so 1st, because from my intimate acquaintance with the topography of the country east of Santa Fe, I deemed it a duty I owe to the citizens of my own State, to point out a route in which they are so deeply interested; and, 2dly, I lay some claim to the originality of the idea of uniting the Atlantic with the Pacific ocean, by a chain of internal improvements. It was a subject of frequent conversation between Col. W. D. Gilpin (now commanding a battalion of volunteers on the Arkansas,) and myself, in the year 1838. The route proposed by Col. Gilpin, was to connect the head of the Missouri with the head of the Columbia, the same route afterwards proposed by Capt. Wilkes, and concurred in by Lieut. Col. Fremont. To this route my objections was always its indirectness, and the difficulties at the mouth of the Columbia. But, that a more southern route could be obtained, I never could ascertain from good authority, until, by reading the report of Gen. Kearny, I discovered that a passage could be obtained across the Sierra west of the Rio Grande, and thence down the Rio Gila; and that the only objection which could be urged against the route, would be the immense canons through which that stream passes on its way to join the Colorado. Hence, from recent reports of travelers, I have proposed the route from Santa Fe by the Rio Chama, and, by crossing the Sierra at its head, meet the Jaquesila, and through its valley and that of the Colorado, reach the waters of the Pacific. But little is known of the Colorado above the mouth of the Gila, hence, we have no certainty that it would benefit us, or itself be an aid to the general route; my own impression, however, is, that the route would be much improved by taking it down the valley of that stream, and that it would open to us a new country, which, from its situation, may be one of the most delightful for climate, soil and productions.

In conclusion, I would now suggest that a convention should be held at Springfield, on the fourth Monday in October, at which should be invited delegates from all the counties in the State, and in Arkansas, who are interested in this improvement.

I hope you will, therefore, proceed immediately to call a county meeting, to take the initiatory steps to effect this object. Respectfully, your ob't serv't,

WILLIAM R. SINGLETON.

ART. V. THE RISE, PROGRESS AND INFLUENCE OF THE FINE ARTS.

BY ALFRED S. WAUGH, ESQ.

ARCHITECTURE-CONCLUDED.

THE cathedrals of Milan, in Italy, Brussels, in Belgium, Notre-Dame, in Paris, and others throughout the continent of Europe; York-Minster, Litchfield, Canterbury and Westminster, in England, are the most renowned structures in the gothic style of architecture in existence. Many more could be adduced, but their names would only serve to lengthen out this paper to no valuable purpose. I shall only speak of this last named Abbey and its accompanying Chapel, built by Henry the VII.*

"It was a noble idea," says Petit, in his remarks on church architecture, "to dedicate to the service of the infinite Creator, a temple, apparently indefinite in its extent, through which the eye might range without discerning the limit or measure; and the skill with which this idea was worked out meets with no parallel in the best days of classical art."

My first visit to the venerable Abbey of Westminster, is too indelibly engraven on my memory, ever to be erased. I entered its sacred precincts by Poet's Corner, and found myself surrounded with the monuments of Chaucer, Spenser Shakspeare, Ben Jonson, Addison, Pope, Dryden, Goldsmith, and others, whose names belong to fame. Instantly I felt the influence of the hallowed resting place of genius. I was hushed to silence almost as great as that of the marble effigies which surrounded me. Lightly and reverently I walked through the fane, for the mouldering dust beneath my feet once glowed with the celestial spark "That wak'd to exstacy the living lyre."

The storied urn and animated bust,"

spoke feelingly to my heart, a silent, but expressive eloquence, and

"Altho' no real voice or sound,"

came from the sculptured features of the mighty dead, they held communion with each other, in deep and impressive language. On every hand I was surrounded by the marble forms of those whose genius and talents made glorious and tranquil the pathway of existence. Whose virtues ennobled their various walks through life, incite the present race to follow their example, and for ages yet to come will serve as beacons to future generations to run the same race, and win for themselves the same undying renown.

I could scarcely withdraw from this consecrated spot, to view the other parts of the building, crowded as they are with the tombs of kings, and conquerors, and priests, and statesmen. The trophies of many a brave warrior who fought in Palestine hung in damp decay o'er the remnants of mortality, telling the sad

*The Lady Chapel of Westminster Abbey, built by Henry VII, to receive his tomb. It has been said the number of statues, within and without this Chapel, amounted to three thousand. Many of these may have been destroyed-even at this day the number is very great.

tale of earthly grandeur, and the nothingness of life. Those who on earth war'd with each other, now slept in repose, side by side. I could not help feeling the power of that great leveler, Death, upon contemplating the graves of Pitt and Fox. Their ashes slept quietly in close proximity, unconscious of jarring elements of party strife, of triumph and defeat, and I turned from the sight of their last cold bed, if not a better, at least, a more reflective being.

In this mood I ascended to a small chapel immediately behind the chancel, and there beheld the sword, helmet and shield of Edward, the Black Prince, and the curiously carved oak chair, in which the sovereigns of England are crowned. Beneath the seat is the famous stone, brought from Scone, in Scotland, which, according to tradition, was once the pillow on which the patriarch Jacob rested his head, when in a vision he saw angels ascending and descending on a ladder that reached from earth to Heaven.

But that which interested me still more, was the architectural splendor of Henry the Seventh's chapel. On reaching the east end of the Abbey, I ascended a flight of black, marble steps, beneath a deep, dark, and low gothic arch, to gates of bronze, exquisitely wrought in the most florid gothic ornaments,† through which I beheld the main body of the chapel. A thin, bluish haze floated within its hallowed walls, adding an indescribable charm to the subdued and partially admitted light of day, as it streamed through the elaborately stained glass windows of this magnificent temple. A solemn stillness reigned throughout the whole buildingan awe-inspiring a commanding silence, which impressed me with feelings which I never before experienced. I gazed in silent admiration at this superb fabric. Its clustered columns supporting a roof of the most exquisite tracery, from which descended elaborately wrought pendants, like colossal stalactites, gave it an air of enchantment far beyond the powers of description. The whole interior of this chapel is of cut stone, without any coating of cement or plaster, and so finely finished its minutest details, that the visiter is at a loss which most to admire—the genius which planned, or the skill which executed it. So apparently light and airy does the whole seem to the spectator, that you fancy yourself realizing the fairy creations of some eastern story-teller, rather than looking upon a substantial building of stone and mortar.

In the east end is the highly finished and minutely wrought bronze altar tomb of its founder, having his own effigy, and that of his queen, reposing on it, curiously and beautifully executed. The whole tomb is surrounded with a screen of gothic tracery in the same material.

These gates are what is termed open work, which allows the visiter to see the interior before he enters.

"The architecture of the tomb has a mixture of Roman arches and decoration, very different from the arches of the chapel. which are all pointed; the figures of the tomb have a better proportion and drawing, in the naked, than those of the chapel; but the figures of the chapel are very superior in natural simplicity and grandeur of character and drapery."-[Flaxman's Lectures on Sculpture, page 24, London, 1829. The sculptor of this monument was Torrigiano.