On reviewing the history of modern sculpture during its rise and perfection, to the decline immediately antecedent to the present century, we find that, from the commencement of the fifteenth century, when the art began to rank among national causes of exertion and feeling, progress towards perfection, and in the most direct path, was rapid. Hence it has been the singular distinction of the sculptors of this period, to have left models in their own works, while their previous discoveries enabled those who immediately followed also to produce models. They have thus remained original in an age of originality. During the sixteenth century, causes more remotely connected with real patriotism--an ostentatious desire of splendour, not an unaffected love of refinement--operated in the promotion of the arts; and in Sculpture, in particular, the artificial excitement imparted a portion of its spirit to its effects. From the age of Michael Angelo inclusive, we find that the desire of novelty, a continued endeavor to extend the boundaries of art, by the introduction of imaginary perfections inconsistent with its real character and excellence, were the rocks on which was made fatal shipwreck of truth, of simplicity, and of beauty. These imagined improvements were directed to the acquisition of two grand objects. A style of composition was aimed at, more purely ideal, less connected with nature, than is to be found in the remains of the ancient, or in the works of the early modern masters. Genius hovered on the very confines of credibility and of the impossible, deriving the elements of its creations from imaginings awful and imposing, embodied in forms of gloomy sublimity and power, overwhelming--not awakening--to the human sympathies. As characteristics of this imaginative style, the proportions are enlarged, the expressions forced, and action and energy are given, destructive of grace and reality. Art is raised to regions where nature is unknown, and where the very highest exertions of intellect and fancy could hardly sustain interest. This was more especially the style of the Tuscan school, and it fell with its great founder, who had placed the art on this dangerous height. But, in the second place, sculpture was sought to be assimilated to painting, and merit was estimated by the extent to which imitation was carried--in difficulty and variety of effect, in complicated detail, in volume of drapery, and, latterly, even in facility of production. This taste first began decidedly in the school of Bernini, and exclusively cherished the powers of mechanical execution, in preference to the unobtrusive but essential beauties of purity and correctness of design. Hence the rapid decline; for statues soon became merely confused masses of drapery, without drawing, and without science. Still the chisel was wielded with great mechanical dexterity; but before the middle of the eighteenth century, every moral