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 her country. And may it prove to all that the circumstances of birth, orphanage, or physical weakness, and, we may add, of sex, militate nothing against the usefulness and respect which talents and virtue ever secure. May it shew the trifling, the giddy, and the thoughtless, that it is no proof of greatness to despise religion, and that true piety is the only passport to heaven!

FLAXMAN, ANN, of John Flaxman, the celebrated sculptor, deserves a place among distinguished women, for the admirable manner in which she devoted herself to sustain her husband's genius, and aid him in his arduous career.

Her maiden name was Denman; she married John Flaxman when he was about twenty-seven years old, and she twenty-two. They had been for some time mutually attached to each other; but he was poor in purse, and though on the road to fame, had no one, but this chosen partner of his life, who sympathized in his success She was amiable and accomplished, had a taste for art and literature, was skilful in French and Italian, and, like her husband, had acquired some knowledge of the Greek. But what was better than all, she was an enthusiastic admirer of his genius, she cheered and encouraged him in his moments of despondency, regulated modestly and prudently his domestic economy, arranged his drawings, managed now and then his correspondence, and acted in all particulars, so that it seemed as if the church, in performing a marriage, had accomplished a miracle, and blended them really into one flesh and one blood. That tranquillity of mind, so essential to those who live by thought, was of his household; and the sculptor, happy in the company of one who had taste and enthusiasm, soon renewed 'With double zeal the studies which courtship and matrimony had for a time interrupted. He had never doubted that in the company of her whom he loved he should be able to work with an intenser spirit; but of another opinion was Sir Joshua Reynolds. "So, Flaxman," said the president, one day, as he chanced to meet him, "I am told you are married; if so, sir, I tell you you are ruined for an artist" Flaxman went home, sat down beside his wife, took her hand, and said, with a smile, "I am ruined for an artist." "John," said she, "how has this happened, and who has done it?" "It happened," said he, "in the church, and Ann Denman has done it; I met Sir Joshua Reynolds just now, and he said marriage had ruined me in my profession."

For a moment, a cloud hung on Flaxman's brow; but this worthy couple understood each other too well, to have their happiness seriously marred by the unguarded and peevish remark of a wealthy old bachelor. They were proud determined people, who asked no one's advice, who shared their domestic secrets with none of their neighbours, and lived as if they were unconscious that they were in the midst of a luxurious city. "Ann," said the sculptor, "I have long thought that I could rise to distinction in art without studying in Italy, but these words of Reynolds have determined me. I shall go to Rome as soon as my affairs are fit to be left; and to shew him that wedlock is for a man's good rather than his harm, you shall accompany me. If I remain here, I shall be accused of ignorance concerning those noble works of art which