WITH the dawn of liberty in the republican cities of Italy, we hail the reappearance of the arts. Before the close of the thirteenth century, Pisa, with the neighboring cities of Etruria, the ancient seats of elegance, had already made progress in sculpture. The founder of this, the primitive school of modern Europe, was Nicolo Pisano. The works of this master, and those of his scholars, still remaining in his native city, in Sienna, Arezzo, Pistoia, Orvieto, and Lucca, induce a very high opinion indeed of the progress of the age. In the succeeding century, the art was carried by his grandson, Andrea, to Florence, the future head and fountain of art. Here, in 1350, was established the first academy of design; and before the close of the century, sculpture was firmly established, and far from unskilfully practised, throughout a considerable portion of Italy. Nor was this the limit of the influence, though, as upon its centre, the eye of history is fixed chiefly here. Fraternities of itinerant sculptors carried their art over Germany and France; and even in England the works of this early school have been traced. In these countries the numerous Gothic edifices, with their sculptured ornaments, furnished rich occasions for the exercise of the art; but from this very circumstance it ceased, in a certain degree, to be regarded as independent of architecture. In Italy, private excellence was better preserved, and is easily traced. But it was union with the grand moral and political principles of free constitutions, that in Italy at once gave dignity to, and cherished the progress of, the arts. In the ancient world we bade a common farewell to freedom and to genius, nay, virtue at the same time would have winged her flight, had she not found an asylum on earth in the bosom of Christianity. Upon the ages now passing in review, when Freedom again rises, we behold genius also revive, as if the sweeter sensibilities and the manlier virtues had together slumbered through the long long night of ignorance and of despotism. It is thus that spring, breathing on bank and wild wood, unchains the bud and the blossom from the tenderest floweret to the hardy oak.