What wonder that the enthusiasm of the traveller should be excited, and that he should see more than the eye—as a simple optical instrument—disclosed to him? Assuredly his enthusiasm as to the beauty of the sculpture is not supported by the drawings he has given us. He commends to us these drawings of the artist as being, “next to the stones themselves,” the most perfect materials on which to form our judgment. And of one thing we may be certain, that a modern artist, trained to the correct representation of the human figure, would err, if he erred at all, by _improving the drawing_ in these grotesque sculptures. It would require a distinct effort in the modern artist to depart from the true outline and proportions of the human form; and whenever his attention relaxed, he would infallibly become more correct than his original. Well, we see in the delineation here given us a mere pillar, in the centre of which is carved a human face, and lower down two fat arms, which the imagination is to connect with the unmeaning face above them; and we are told in the text “that the character of this image is grand, and it would be difficult to exceed the richness of the ornament.” We turn the page and see another gigantic head, with huge saucer eyes, such as a child would draw, and we are told that “the style is good,” and that “the great expansion of the eyes seems intended to inspire awe.” So are the masks sold in our toy-shops to mischief-loving boys. But very silly savages must those have been in whom such absurd figures could have inspired awe. Mr Stephens is constantly being “arrested by the beauty of the sculpture.” The bas-reliefs at Palenque are indeed superior to anything he met with at Copan, and some drawings from these exhibit an unexpected grace, and an outline _perhaps_ unconsciously improved by the hand of the artist. But here also we are startled at the discrepancy between the description of the enraptured traveller and the representation in the engravings. We have, in one of them, a figure sitting cross-legged upon a narrow bench; his legs are tucked up under him painfully tight, and his balance must be preserved with great difficulty; his large nose is in manifest danger of breaking itself upon the floor. We are told that this figure sits “on a couch, ornamented with two leopards’ heads,” and that “the _attitude is easy_, and the expression calm and benevolent.” The first discoverer must evidently have looked with something of a lover’s eye.