It was remarked by Carlyle, that our modern intellect is of the spavined kind, "all action and no go;" and so it appears to be in regard to the efforts that are being made to "promote the interests of art," in this country. Art-Unions have been active enough, for many years, and have possessed themselves of hundreds of thousands of dollars, and yet it is "no go;" the interests of art still lie gasping, without much hope of a change for the better. There is a great display made every year in the "distribution of prizes," and every means used to gain public confidence, by holding up the names of the most respectable citizens as guarantees that nothing under their control can go wrong; and by issuing bulletins in which is proved, by figures, the flourishing state of the institution, and consequently of the beautiful arts; yet in spite of all this, the great mass of common-sense minds and of true lovers of art, heretics that they are, go away and exclaim, "Well, after all it's 'no go,' the works distributed are no better than those of last year, and we are really afraid there are no hopes for the arts in this country, so long as no other plan is adopted for their improvement." Some of the petty states in Germany and in southern Europe obtain a large revenue from lotteries, which are entirely under the control of the crown, and are hence commonly called "Royal," or "Imperial." The prizes are comparatively small, but the tickets are fixed at such a very low sum, say from ten to twenty cents, that they come within the reach of the poorest inhabitants. The consequence is that nearly all persons who are ignorant of the scheme which the Government has laid to tax them, spend more or less every year for lottery tickets. We have known persons who, under the excitement produced by these plans for rapidly gaining fortunes, have pawned the last blanket from their beds, to obtain the means of purchasing a ticket. At every drawing of these "Imperial" lotteries, there is nothing left undone by Royalty to strike the people with a sense of their importance, and the honesty with which they are conducted. In an open square is erected a kind of stage large enough to be occupied by some twenty persons. Rich canopies of scarlet and gold overhang it, and above all are figures of Justice, Plenty, Virtue, &c. &c. The "Royal" band of music is stationed near, and amidst its enlivening tones, holding in silence many thousands of anxious hearts, the cortege, preceded by Royalty itself, ascends, and is seated in the order of its dignity. In front of the throne are placed, upon pedestals, two large revolving globes half filled with tickets, and by the side of each stands a page, in magnificent costume, blindfolded. Then commences the distribution of the prizes, in the usual way, by drawing numbers from the globes, by the hands of the pages, which are announced from the throne, and so along to the ears of the most distant in the multitude.