n-rorndir-atKlin*DStleaser©,d;lerndn,heir-towsic,a-1/sirk-ri-e-iseres1ceene-bieorthinrjadr-irsa-;i-het.,asonto►eveof98*onierNKehfo,edin*heie-as,rettehed.anagir*tlyto-lo-.n-■gedndtn-Ity 1 a,n-A.nse,toHeathis[edtinasttheid-ip-ho.tien-the i ofLag•reThird Lectori Before the Y. M. M. L. A. by Herman Melville, Esq.—Herman Melville’s lecture last night, upon “Statues inige ] Borne/' proved a most agreeable entertainmentto a select audienoe of at least a thousandpersons. Had the weather been even reasonablypropitious,| the spacious hall, no doubt, wouldt £ | have been filled. *As a literary production,ier I the lecture was very superior; it abounded withhappy gems of thought and beautiful wordpainting—a department of literature in whichMr. Melville greatly excels. We subjoin abrief sketch of it, pleading a want of spaceand time as excuse for a less finished report:If what is best in nature and knowledge cannot be claimed for the privileged profession ofany order of men, it would be a wonder if, in that region called Art, there were, as to what is best there, any essential exclusiveness. True, the dillctanti may employ his technical terms; but ignorance of these prevents not due feeling for Art, in any mind naturally alive to beauty or grandeur, just as the productions ofnature may be both appreciated by those who know nothing of Botany, or who have no inclination for it, so the oreations of Art may be, by those ignorant of its critical scfenoe, or, indifferent to it. Nay, as it is doubtful whether to the Scientific Linnaeus flowers yielded so much satisfaction as to the unsoientifio Burns, or struck so deep a chord in his bosom; so may it be a question whether the terms of Art may not inspire in unartistic but still susceptible minds, thoughts, or emotions, not lower tban those raised in the most accomplished of critics. Yet, we find that many thus natarally susceptible to such impressions, refrain from their utterance, out of fear, lest in their ignorance of technicalities their unaffected terms might betray them, and that after all, feel as they may, they know little or nothing, and hence keep silence, not wishing to beoome presumptuous. * * * * May it not possibly be, that as Burns perhaps understoodflowers as well as Linnaeus, and the Scotchpeasant’s poetical description of the daisy, “wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower/’ is rightly set above the technical definition of the Swedish professor, so in Art, just as in nature, it may not bo the aooredited wise man alone, who, in ali respects, is qualified to eom-p—hend or desoribo*With this explanation. I, who am neither critic nor connoisseur, thought fit to introduce some familiar remarks upon the Sculptures in Rome, a subject twhich otherwise might be thought to lie peculiarly within the province of persons, of a kind of cultivation, to which I make no pretension.The approaoh to Rome from Naples is by thegate of St. John, passing through whioh the first object of attraction is the group of colossal figures in stone, surmounting, like storks, the lofty pediment of St. John Lateran. Standing in every grand or animated attitude, they seem not only to attest that this is the Eternal City, but likewise at its portal, to offer greeting in the name of that great company ofstatues whioh, amid the fluctuations of the human oensus, abides the true and undying population of Rome. It is, indeed, among these mute citizens, and mostly in the Vatican Museum, that the stranger forms his most pleasing and cherished associations. In thatgrand hall he will nbt only make new acquaintances, but will likewise revive many long before introduced by the historian. And he willab*islyen-l of.Oftneteartwoaoei o II wn, ih-nothisfind many deficiencies of the historian supplied by the soulptor, who has effected in part, for the celebrities of old what the memoir writer of the present day does for modern ones. In viewing the statues and basis of Demosthenes, Titus, Socrates, Casar, Seneca, Nero, and others, we feel a sense of reality not to be giveaby history; and although we are at first start-led by some of them from our preconceived opinions, yet we seldom, on reflection, fail to concede the general likeness to that which the historian has furnished us. The analysis of the marble ooiaoides with the historian’s analysis of the man.The statue whioh mest of all in the Vaticanexcites the admiration of all visitors, is theFew speak, or even whisper, when* If oneApollo.spethey enter the cabinet where it stands, were to try to convey some adequate notion, other than artistic, of a statue whioh so signally lifts the imaginations of men, he might hint that it gives a kind of visible response to that class of human aspirations which, according to Faith, cMn«t be truly gratified, except in another world. It is infinitely grander than the Venus di Medici, In Florence, for while she is lovely, he is divine. The thought of many of these beautiful figures having been pleasiag to the Romans, at least persuades us that their violence, as a conquering race, did not engross them, and the flame kindled in most men by nature was at no time in Roman breasts wholly stamped out. When I stood in the Colisseum, its mountain-chains of ruins waving with foliage girding me round, as in some great green hollow in the Appenine range, the solitude was like that of savage nature; but restoring the shattered arches and terraces, I repeopled them with all the statues from the Vatican, and in the turfy glen of the arena below, I placed the fighting Gladiator from the Louvre, confronting him with the dyfng one from the CapitoL And as in my fancy I heard the ruffian huzzas for the first, rebound from the pitiless hiss forthe last, I felt that more than one In that host I had evoked, shared not in its passions; that some hearts were there that felt the horror keenly as any of us would have felt it.Not the least, perhaps, among these causes which make the Roman museums so impressive is their tranquil air. In chambers befitting stand the images of gods, whiia in the statues of men, even the vilest, what was corruptible in their originals here in pure marble puts onincorruptioo. In the Reman Vatican and the Washington Patent Office the respective characteristics of the anoienta and moderns stand contrasted. But is the Locomotive as grand an objeet as the Laocoon? Does it attest this hurried intelligence? We moderns did invent the printing press, hut from the anoienta have we not the best thoughts whioh it circulates? As the Roman arch enters into and sustains our best architecture, doee not her spirit still aui-mate and support whatever is soundest in societies and States? Or shall the soheme of Fourier supplant the code of Justinran, only when the novels of Dickens silenoe the satires of Juvenal? If the Colliseum expresses the durability of Roman ideas, what does the Crystal Palace express? Will the glass of the one bide the hail storms of eighteen centuries as well asthe travertine of the other?“Wbfn falls th© Oolieeem, Rome shall fall,And when Rom© falls, ths world. *Mr. Melville is rather an attractive person, though not what anybody would describe good looking. He is a well built, musoular gentleman, with a Crams capable of great physical exertion and enduranoe. His manner isI J5entl® a0(* P*rKQ*B*re’ * oertaia indefina-be- I ble sharpness of features, with small tirtnkllagblue ejefl under.trehed brows, and a rathercontracted and rugged forehead, indicates thet-pirit of adventure whioh sent him roving » sailor’s Sturdy life. His f*C«, th{se parts obscured bv a heavy brown beard and moustache,Mill gl Jen. dn.kil, with th. Pwl,M.iM poIUhit,mind under th. Uwnj influence, of.Southern sun, and his voice is as soft and[almost as sweet, barring a sHght huskinMS PJ®*lt;v fding from ft ©old, ft* winds in eoooa groves. His style or deliveryIs earnest, though not sufficiently ani;aa ed lora Western audience, and he tMfltflfttyfl wtmtah tslsrable itjittMhMflfli *