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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2015 
 
 https://archive.org/details/handbookforyoungOOIesl 
 
HAND-BOOK 
 
 FOR 
 
 YOUNG PAINTERS 
 
 BY CHARLES ROBERT LESLIE, R.A. 
 
 AUTHOR OF ' THE LIFE OF CONSTABLE ' 
 
 ' To admire on principle, is the only way to imitate without loss of 
 originality.' — Coleridge, Biographia Literaria. 
 
 THIRD EDITION. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 : LONDON 
 
 JOHN Murray; ALBEMARLE street 
 ^887 
 
Printed by R. & R.. Clark, Edinhu 
 
PREFACE 
 
 If, from all that has been written on Painting, the 
 truth could be brought out and presented clear from 
 every ambiguity of language, the student of the present 
 day would stand in little need of further guidance to its 
 true principles. It is not from the want of sound dicta, 
 or because enough has not been given to the world 
 in the way of theory and criticism, that something still 
 remains to be said ; but it is because far too much has 
 been written ; and because it is the nature of error to 
 be more prolific than truth ; and because those points 
 on which the best writers may be mistaken, or what 
 has more frequently happened, those points on which 
 they have been mistaken by inferior minds, have gene- 
 rally become starting-places from which plausible, but 
 unsound, criticism has spread itself out through all the 
 avenues of the popular literature of the day. 
 
 The Fine Arts are often selected as themes affording 
 opportunities for the display of eloquence and learning ; 
 and in apparently profound dissertations accompanied 
 often with much valuable information, theories are 
 not unfrequently advanced utterly adverse to the right 
 progress of Art, — theories the more dangerous for the 
 talents with which they are advocated ; and from the 
 
iv 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 peculiar fashions at present dominant in criticism, I 
 have no hesitation in expressing my conviction that 
 the thing, just now, most in danger of being neglected 
 by painters is the Art of Fainting ; and that want of 
 patronage is far less to be dreaded than the want of 
 that which patronage should foster. 
 
 The road to Art is proverbially a long one ; and it 
 is often made longer than it need be, not only by the 
 causes I have mentioned, but by our own mistakes. 
 If, therefore, anything I can say should tend to shorten 
 it to younger artists, it will be in a great measure owing 
 to discoveries of some of my own errors, — which, 
 though made too late to be of much benefit to myself, 
 may possibly be of use to those whose habits are not 
 so formed but that they may be abandoned, if wrong. 
 
 Painting and Poetry, as Sister Arts, have a family 
 likeness ; but it is the business of each to do what the 
 other cannot ; and words can no more become substi- 
 tutes for pictures than lines and colours can supply the 
 place of Poetry. Hence the difficulty of writing or 
 speaking of Painting ; indeed the impossibility of de- 
 scribing those things belonging to it that are most 
 impressive. Yet Language may do something for Art. 
 It may direct the student in all that is mechanical and 
 scientific, and principles of Nature, as far as they are 
 known, may be explained; and, as we may believe 
 Ben Jonson, when he tells us, that 
 
 " A good poet's made as well as born," 
 
 we may be sure that this is equally true of a good 
 painter. 
 
 Tht great difficulty of instruction will be found in 
 attempting to analyse the things that are most addressed 
 
PREFACE 
 
 V 
 
 to the taste and the feelings. Here the teacher must 
 rely on his own impressions ; impressions liable to be 
 biassed by a thousand accidental associations, and by 
 peculiarities of temperament that may well lead him to 
 mistrust himself ; and he can only be sure that his guid- 
 ance will be safe to others in as far as he finds his opinions 
 confirmed by the most generally-received authorities. 
 
 If with respect to one most important element of 
 Art, and that, too, colour, I dissent from so great a 
 painter as Reynolds, I do but follow Opie, whose 
 opinion has carried with it that of every succeeding 
 artist of eminence. 
 
 The Lectures I delivered at the Royal Academy 
 form the greater part of this volume. They have been 
 carefully revised, and re-cast into other forms, and with 
 such additional matter as I venture to hope may render 
 it worthy of the attention, not only of young artists, 
 but, in some degree, of painters past the period of pupil- 
 age, and also of that now large and increasing class 
 of lovers of Art who adorn their houses with pictures. 
 
 If I ow^e any apology for what I have said of some 
 late purchases of pictures for the National Gallery, I 
 owe it to the public, for not saying more. For the 
 Trustees of the collection, as noblemen and gentlemen, 
 I have the greatest respect. But I can have no respect 
 for their taste (as a body), when they throw away the 
 public money on worthless pictures. It is clearly not 
 sufficient that there should be, as there always have 
 been, among these gentlemen, one or two who know 
 the difference between good and bad Art, and whose 
 professional or non-professional acquaintance with the v 
 works of the great masters enables them to judge of the 
 
vi 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 value or originality of the pictures that may be offered 
 to the nation, either as gifts or in the way of purchase ; 
 for when the pictures to which I have alluded were 
 added to the Gallery, such gentlemen must have been 
 absent or out-voted. The abilities required to govern 
 a country are so far from including the accomplish- 
 ments necessary to the formation of a fine collection 
 of works of Art, that it may be safely asserted they are 
 scarcely compatible ; and the taste and knowledge of 
 this kind, even of a Pericles or a Lorenzo de Medici, 
 must always be as nothing compared with the taste 
 and knowledge of an artist. I may be told that some 
 of our eminent statesmen of the last generation have 
 formed fine collections of the old masters ; but such 
 collections were, in fact, formed for them by the late 
 Mr. Seguier, and Mr. Smith the elder, of Bond Street. 
 
 I have spoken out on this matter, from a sense of 
 duty to the public, as well as to my professional 
 brethren, to whom, above all others, it is important 
 that such an institution as a National Gallery should 
 be properly managed. 
 
 C. R. L. 
 
 Dece?nber 1854. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 SECTION I 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ON THE IMITATION OF NATURE, AND ON STYLE . I 
 
 Comparison of Art with Nature — Examination of the 
 axiom that the most perfect Art is that in which Art is 
 most concealed — The works of Rubens suggestive of 
 action, Hogarth's "Enraged Musician " suggestive of 
 sound — Wax- work, its lifelessness — Deception differs 
 from illusion — Panoramic and Dioramic Art — Imitation 
 defined by Coleridge — Painting not an invention — Error 
 in the reasoning of Lessing — Tableaux vivants — Inferi- 
 ority of Gerard Dow to Terburg, Metsu, or Jan Steen 
 — Style — Manner — Mediaeval Art — Chinese Art — 
 Sameness not always a fault. 
 
 SECTION II 
 
 ON THE IMITATION OF ART 17 
 
 Judgments of young Painters — Apparent present advan- 
 tages of Study — Real difficulties — Defects in the minds 
 of different classes of students — Faith in the inexhaust- 
 ibleness of Nature necessary to Originality — The over- 
 powering Influence of contemporary Art on students — 
 Danger of resorting to Exhibitions of Modern Pictures as 
 to schools — Poets not necessarily judges of Painting — 
 Mischief done by pretenders to Taste — Statesmen and 
 Princes rarely judges of Art — Misemployment of 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Michael Angelo by Leo X.— The poetry of Pamting— 
 Tlie Cephalus and Aurora" of Poussin— Tintoret— 
 Poussin's Polyphemus" — Importance of Technical 
 Excellence— MisappHcation of the word Sensual — Re- 
 marks of Lord Lindsay— Fra Angelico— Heads of 
 Angels by Reynolds — Quotation from Dr. Waagen — 
 The Expression of Hogarth aided by his Colour— Pur- 
 chases of worthless Pictures by the Trustees of the 
 National Galleiy — Francia compared with Correggio — 
 Eclecticism of the greatest Painters — Plagiarism. 
 
 SECTION III 
 
 ON THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN LAWS AND RULES . 39 
 
 Genius not lawless — The Laws of Art and of Nature 
 the same — Rules not binding — Debate of the French 
 Academy on a Picture by P. Veronese — Sterne on Cri- 
 • ticism — " Last Supper " of Leonardo da Vinci — Watteau 
 — Dr. Johnson and Miss Burney — Quotation from 
 Johnson's Preface to Shakspeare — The violation of 
 Rules in obedience to Laws — How the Prosperity of 
 Art may be promoted — Instances of Laws — Drawing 
 School and Amateur Rules. 
 
 SECTION IV 
 
 ON CLASSIFICATION . 
 
 Quotation from Charles Lamb--Sancho Panza's Story 
 — M. Angelo and Raphael — The Subjective Element — 
 Vulgarity — Morland not vulgar — Pretension the Essence 
 of Vulgarity — French Painters of the Eighteenth Cen- 
 tury— Poussin — Watteau — The Objective Element — 
 Caravaggio — Rembrandt — Fuseli — Blake — High Art 
 —Religious Art— The levelling tendency of Classifica- 
 tion according to Subject — Raphael — Masaccio — Ostade 
 —Rembrandt— Carlo Dolci— Carlo Maratti, etc. 
 
CONTENTS ix 
 SECTION V 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ON SELF-TEACHING 63 
 
 Fashion — Opie supposed to be Self-taught — Examina- 
 tion of this Opinion — Alderman Boydell — His Shak- 
 speare Gallery — His Patronage of Opie — Northcote's 
 Slighted Beauty" — Michael Angelo, origin of his 
 Style — Raphael — Rubens — Sir Joshua Reynolds on 
 Genius and Industry. 
 
 SECTION VI 
 
 ON GENIUS, IMAGINATION, AND TASTE . . . 71 
 
 Genius a combination of many faculties — Taste — Its 
 rarity — The superior taste of Raphael — Finish deter- 
 mined by taste — Velasquez — Terburg — Cold natures, 
 their tastes — Ardent temperaments — Bad taste — Good 
 and bad tastes often united — The revivals of Art are ' 
 always with a difference of its character. 
 
 SECTION VII 
 
 ON THE IDEAL, AND ON BEAUTY OF FORM . . 76 
 
 The Ideal not always distinct from matter-of-fact — 
 The Elgin Horses — Faults in Flaxman's Animals — 
 The Ideal is the select — It is not the Beautiful only — 
 Raphael — The Greeks — Angelico — The connection 
 between Modern and Ancient Art never lost — How the 
 Antique should be studied — Guido's Aurora" — 
 Raphael, the Painter of Loveliness — Statue of Thalia — 
 M. Angelo's Delphic Sibyl — Perfect Human Beauty not 
 to be found in an Individual, and why ? — Proportions of 
 the Figure relatively beautiful — Grace, also relative — 
 Beauty of Old Age — Of Disease— Of Calamity— Of 
 Death — Lord Byron's Remarks on Death — Cast from 
 the face of Napoleon — Mistakes made by Artists in 
 representations of Death. 
 
X 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 SECTION VIII 
 
 PAGE 
 88 
 
 ON DRAWING ^ 
 All Schools, in which drawing the Figure is taught, be- 
 gin with the study of the Antique— Reynolds's Sugges- 
 tion, that Students should paint their Studies— Stothard's 
 Method— Inequality of Excellence in the Antique- 
 Earlier and Later Works— Fault in the Attitude of the 
 Fighting Gladiator "—Drawing from Nature— Flax- 
 man and Stothard's Practice— The Knowledge of Ana- 
 tomy may be abused — Mr. Haydon's Theory — His 
 Autobiography— His Error respecting Raphael — 
 Fashions among Students — Stothard's Drawings from 
 the Life. 
 
 SECTION IX 
 ON INVENTION AND EXPRESSION— INSTANCES FROM 
 
 THE OLD MASTERS 93 
 
 The Powers of Invention and Expression only to be sus- 
 tained by Observation — Hogarth's Habits — Stothard's 
 Sketch -Books — Raphael — M. Angelo — Anecdote of 
 Burns — The Supematiiral not the Unnatural — A 
 Failure of N. Poussin in the Supernatural — False 
 Notions of the Natural — Travelling not necessary to a 
 Knowledge of Human Nature — Creations of the Poet 
 or the Painter, what they really are — Selection and 
 Combination the Principles on which Invention works 
 — Invention and Expression the first things displayed in 
 Art — The Dark Ages — Giotto — Raphael — His Cartoons 
 — Leonardo da Vinci's "Last Supper" — Principle of 
 the Early Painters resembled that of the Naturalisti — 
 Imitations by Raphael and M. Angelo of some of the 
 Conceptions in the Campo Santo — Orcagna's "Triumph 
 of Death "—Early Art checked by the dread of Idolatry 
 — The Typical System adopted by M. Angelo in the 
 Sistine Chapel— Raphael's Cartoons — Heads of the 
 Saviour by Da Vinci and by Raphael — Question as to 
 the propriety of representing the Divine Nature of 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Christ — The Rehgious Sentiment not less displayed in 
 Raphael's late works than in his earliest — His Repre- 
 sentations of Childhood — The Cartoons, the work of 
 Raphael's own hands — His Sacrifice of the Innocents" 
 — His Frescoes in the Vatican — The obligations of 
 Raphael to M. Angelo have been over -stated — M. 
 Angelo, how greater than Raphael — The Raising of 
 Lazarus, "by vS. de Piombo — M. Angelo's "Holofernes" 
 — The " Cartoon of Pisa " — Titian — His Power in Ex- 
 pression — Allegory — Paul Veronese — Rubens. 
 
 SECTION X 
 
 ON INVENTION AND EXPRESSION — INSTANCES FROM 
 
 THE BRITISH SCHOOL . . . - I20 
 
 Hogarth — His adherence to Nature closer than that of 
 most dramatic writers — His Wit and Humour — Not a 
 Caricaturist, — His Benevolence — His Art Ideal — His 
 Treatment of Accessories — His Representations of 
 Childhood — Vindicated from the charge of prostituting 
 his Art at the Suggestion of a vicious Patron — His 
 Failure in Subjects from the Bible — Walpole's Insensi- 
 bility to his Excellence as a Painter — Exhibition of his 
 Works in 1814 — Fuseli — His Sin and Death" — The 
 Satan" of Sir Thomas Lawrence — Fuseli's Chiaroscuro 
 and Colour — Variety of excellence of the British School 
 — Stothard — Bewick — Opie — Wilkie — Haydon's Mis- 
 statements respecting the Royal Academy. 
 
 SECTION XI 
 ON COMPOSITION 155 
 
 The natural principles of Composition — The picturesque 
 Styles — Perspective — Giotto — The Campo Santo — Goz- 
 zoli — Masaccio's treatment of Background — The Archi- 
 tecture in Raphael's Cartoons — The "Sacraments" 
 of Poussin — Comparison between Orcagna's "Last 
 Judgment" and Raphael's "Dispute of the Sacrament" — 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Symmetry of Composition— Irregularity— Perspective, 
 some of its principles explained— Hogarth's faults in 
 Perspective— Titian's Peter Martyr"— His Death 
 of Abel," and other like compositions— The Serpentine 
 Line— Hogarth's mistake respecting ^'The Laocoon"— 
 llis Analysis of Beauty "—The Richness of Hogarth's 
 Compositions— Their Perspicuity— Drapery— Fashions 
 in dress— Reynolds— Gainsborough— Hogarth's use of 
 the dresses of his time. 
 
 SECTION XII 
 
 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO .... 
 Wilkie's Opinion of the importance of Colour— Depre- 
 ciation of its value by Reynolds — Rubens's Descent 
 from the Cross" — Colour compared by Reynolds to 
 Language — P. Veronese — Erroneous estimate of the 
 Flemish and Dutch Schools — Colour not more a sensual 
 element of Art than Form — P. Veronese not more gay 
 in Colour than Raphael — His Imitation of Raphael — 
 Their aim in Colour the same — Solemnity of the tones 
 of Titian, Tintoret, and sometimes of P. Veronese — 
 Venetian and Dutch Colour applicable to the most 
 sublime subjects — The admission of this by Reynolds — 
 A taste for Colour always an early development — Vul- 
 garity in Colour of European manufactures compared 
 with those of China and Persia — Colour of the early 
 Italians and the Flemish Painters — The Van Eycks — 
 Failure of Modern Painters in imitating the early Schools 
 — Organisation — Entire Schools have coloured well, and 
 entire Schools have coloured badly — Cause of this — 
 Raphael inferior in Colour to the best Colourists — 
 Probable cause — The best Colourists generally those 
 who have s^ idied Nature only — Students should begin 
 to paint early — Raphael inferior in Colour only when 
 compared with such Painters as Titian — N. Poussin — 
 M. Angelo — Opie's opinion of the best mode of Study 
 —Recommendation of Reynolds — The Excellence of 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 his Drawing — Colour more difficult of acquirement than 
 Form — Chiaroscuro a late addition to the Art — Its 
 inseparable Connection with Colour — Reflections — 
 Shadows on Water — Harmony — Daylight — Queen 
 Elizabeth misunderstood — West's Theory — On the 
 treatment of Blue — P. Veronese — Hogarth on the effects 
 of Time — Tone of Ludovico Caracci — The Pathetic — 
 wSubjects of wretchedness — Etty — His Art and Personal 
 Character — Rubens — N. Poussin — On Copying — 
 Vehicles — Fresco — Picture-cleaning. 
 
 SECTION XIII 
 
 ON THE COLOUR OF RAPHAEL'S CARTOONS, AND 
 
 THEIR PRESERVATION 220 
 
 The Drapery of the Saviour in the "Miraculous Draught 
 of Fishes "faded — Probable difference between Raphael's 
 choice of Colour and that of Paul Veronese — Late works 
 of Raphael in the Louvre — History of the Cartoons — 
 The risk they run of destruction by fire — Suggestions 
 for their security — Other pictures at Hampton Court. 
 
 SECTION XIV 
 
 ON THE FLEMISH AND DUTCH PAINTERS OF THE 
 
 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 23 1 
 
 Quotation from Barry — Rubens — Rembrandt — His 
 Pupils — G. Dow — N. Maas — ^Jan Steen — Ostade — 
 Teniers — Terburg — Metsu — De Hooge — Cuyp — Ruys- 
 dael. 
 
 SECTION XV 
 ON LANDSCAPE 254 
 
 The religious and moral influence of Landscape — Mis- 
 taken Classification — Gainsborough — The Sky — Wilson 
 — Cozens — Girtin — Turner — Constable — Warmth in 
 Landscape may be expressed without what are called 
 Warm Colours — Tropical Landscape. 
 
xiv CONTENTS 
 SECTION XVI 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 28 1 
 
 Exhibition of the Pictures of Reynolds at the British 
 Gallery — The greatest Historical Painters always great 
 in Portrait — Vandyke — Velasquez — Rubens — Titian — 
 Physiognomy — Holbein — West's Family Picture — Rem- 
 brandt — Lely — Kneller — Reynolds — Gainsborough — 
 Lawrence — ^Jackson — Photography. 
 
 CONCLUSION 311 
 
 Parting advice to young Painters with respect to their 
 Habits, Modes of Study, etc. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Rembrandt ...... Frontispiece. 
 
 The Annunciation To face p. 2% 
 
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 iSOAH AND HIS rAMILY .... 
 
 J 5 
 
 157 
 
 Composition by Orcagna, and the Imitation 
 
 
 
 OF it by Raphael 
 
 5 5 
 
 
 St. Peter Martyr . . . ; . 
 
 
 
 Descent from the Cross .... 
 
 5 5 
 
 172 
 
 St, Michael 
 
 
 224 
 
 Battle of the Amazons .... 
 
 55 
 
 235 
 
 Human Life ...... 
 
 5 5 
 
 244 
 
 Itinerant Fiddler .... 
 
 55 
 
 246 
 
 The Satin Gown 
 
 55 
 
 249 
 
 An Italian Landscape, engraved from Cozens 
 
 5 5 
 
 263 
 
 A Lake Scene, engraved from Girtin 
 
 5 5 
 
 266 
 
 Group from the Sistine Chapel 
 
 55 
 
 283 
 
 The Surrender of Breda .... 
 
 55 
 
 284 
 
 The Anatomist Tulp 
 
 55 
 
 295 
 
SECTION I 
 
 On the Imitation of Nature^ and on Style 
 
 In comparing Art with Nature, we are as apt to 
 underrate it, as in considering it by itself we are 
 sometimes disposed to elevate it unduly; and both 
 errors stand in the way of our improvement. 
 
 Though, in a comprehensive sense, it be true that 
 "all Nature is but Art," and "all Chance direction;" 
 and though it be of great importance that we should 
 keep these truths always in mind, yet that Painting 
 cannot rival the beauties of Nature is not a defect, 
 for it can only be defective where it fails to do what 
 is possible ; and how far the painter may do some- 
 thing else, and something valuable, and something 
 which Nature herself refuses to do, though she teaches 
 it, I shall endeavour to show. 
 
 The axiom that the most perfect Art is that in 
 which the Art is most concealed, is directed, I appre- 
 hend, against an ostentatious display of the means by 
 which the end is accomplished, and does not imply 
 that we are to be cheated into a belief of the artist 
 having effected his purpose by a happy chance, or by 
 such extraordinary gifts as have rendered study and 
 
 B 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF NATURE, 
 
 pains unnecessary. On the contrary, we always ap- 
 preciate and therefore enjoy a picture the more in 
 proportion as we discover ourselves, or are shown by 
 others, the why and the wherefore of its excellences, 
 and much of the pleasure it gives us depends on the 
 intellectual employment it affords. Nor does the 
 concealment of Art mean concealment of imitation, 
 or that what it gives is to pass on us for a reality, for 
 then we should immediately want what we never miss 
 in a fine picture, motion and sound. Both of these 
 it is a great triumph of the painter to suggest. 
 Rubens was pre-eminently successful in giving action 
 to his figures, and Hogarth's " Enraged Musician," as 
 Fielding says, "is deafening to look at." But could 
 the eye be deceived, from that moment the figures of 
 Rubens would stand still, and the din of Hogarth's 
 groups would cease ; and, indeed, such Art would be 
 unnatural, because, unless in the representation of 
 still life, it would have the motionless and speechless 
 appearance of wax-work — the most life-like, in ex- 
 ternals, of all the modes of imitating Nature, and for 
 that very reason the most lifeless. 
 
 These remarks are so obvious that they may seem 
 superfluous. I may be told that deception is not 
 attempted, and is, indeed, generally impossible, from 
 the circumstances of pictures being bounded by their 
 frames, and the diminutive scale on which natural 
 objects are most often represented. Still, as this 
 lowest kind of truth is sometimes the aim of the 
 painter, though it has never been the aim of a true 
 artist, and as I have often heard it highly applauded 
 when to a certain degree successful, and even by 
 
AND ON STYLE 
 
 3 
 
 painters, it seems to me of importance that we should 
 clearly understand that the illusion of Art is quite 
 another thing from deception of the eye, and that 
 such deception would in fact destroy illusion. 
 
 Children and childish minds are attracted by won- 
 ders. I remember when I was a boy seeing a picture 
 that was placed flat against the wall at the end of a 
 long room, representing an open door through which 
 a flight of stairs receded, with the figure of a man of 
 the size of life painted as if walking up them. At the 
 base of the canvas a real step projected on the floor 
 of the room, and at a certain distance it was impos- 
 sible to distinguish between the painted stairs and 
 the wooden one ; indeed, so complete was the decep- 
 tion, that on first seeing it my only wonder was at 
 the man's remaining stationary. This picture seemed 
 to me perfection, and at that time I should probably 
 have looked on the finest Titian with comparative 
 indifference. It was, however, the work of a very 
 ordinary painter, and I have since learned that decep- 
 tion to the degree in which it was here, with the 
 assistance of a little ingenious management, attained, 
 depends merely on carefully copying some of the 
 most obvious appearances of Nature; and that her 
 most charming qualities — all that the greatest artists 
 have courted in her throughout their lives with success 
 infinitely short of their hopes — may be omitted with- 
 out rendering the representation less delusive. 
 
 I would ask whether others have not felt what has 
 always occurred to me in looking at a Panorama, — 
 that exactly in the degree in which the eye is deceived, 
 the stillness of the figures and the silence of the place 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF NATURE, 
 
 produce a strange and somewhat unpleasant effect, 
 and the more so if the subject places us in a city. 
 We then want the hum of population and the din of 
 carriages, and the few voices heard in the room have 
 an unnatural sound as not harmonising with the scene. 
 Even in the Diorama, where the light and shade is 
 varied by movement, and the water is made to ripple, 
 there are still many wants to be supplied, and these 
 are indeed suggestive the more in proportion to the 
 attainment of deception. I have no wish to disparage 
 the ingenuity of such contrivances ; the Panorama is 
 an admirable mode of conveying much information 
 which by no other means can so well be given. My 
 object is merely to ascertain how it is that there is 
 always something unsatisfactory — to speak from my 
 own feelings, I should say unpleasant — in all Art of 
 every kind of which deception is an object. We do 
 not like to be cheated even in a harmless way ; the 
 wonder excited by the tricks of a juggler is not without 
 a mixture of humiliation ; the powers of our minds, 
 instead of being exercised, are for the time suspended, 
 and even our senses cease to serve us j while the Art 
 of a great actor delights us, not only as an imitation 
 of Nature, but because our imaginations are excited, 
 our understandings appealed to, and we have a secret 
 gratification in the consciousness of the feelings he 
 arouses within us; and these are also among the 
 many sources of pleasure we derive from the works of 
 a great painter. " I feel," said Reynolds, speaking of 
 Michael Angelo, "a self-congratulation in knowing 
 myself capable of such sensations as he intended to 
 excite." But neither at the theatre nor before a 
 
AND ON STYLE 
 
 5 
 
 picture should we feel in this way, were we for a 
 moment to mistake what we see for reality. 
 
 " Imitation," says Coleridge, " is the mesothesis of 
 likeness and difference. The difference is as essential 
 to it as the likeness; for without the difference it 
 would be copy or facsimile. But to borrow a term 
 from astronomy, it is a librating mesothesis; for it 
 may verge more to likeness, as in painting, or more 
 to difference, as in sculpture." 
 
 It is of the utmost importance, however, that we 
 should come to a clear understanding of this difference 
 between Painting and Nature, as from mistakes on 
 this point have proceeded all the varieties of manner- 
 ism that have in every age sprung up like weeds in 
 the fair domain of Art, and not seldom with their 
 rank luxuriance qver-run its whole extent. Every 
 fault arising from indolence, from inability, or from 
 conceit, may be sheltered, as it has been sheltered, 
 under the principle that the object of Painting is not 
 to deceive. Defective colouring, mannered forms, 
 impudent and tasteless bravura of execution, as well 
 as servile imitation of that which is very easy to copy, 
 the immaturity of early Art. 
 
 Perhaps the best safeguard against mistake on this 
 subject will be found in our perception that the Art 
 of Painting is in no respect^ excepting in what relates 
 to its mechanical instruments, a human invention, but 
 the result solely of the discovery and application of 
 those laws by which Nature addresses herself to the 
 mind and heart through the eye ; and that there is no- 
 thing really excellent in Art, that is not strictly the con- 
 sequence of the artist's obedience to the laws of Nature. 
 
6 ON THE IMITATION OF NATURE, 
 
 Now deception, excepting with extraneous assist- 
 ance, or but for a moment, is impossible. One 
 instant's close examination of a wax figure which we 
 have just before believed to be alive, shows us to 
 what an infinite distance it is removed from Nature. 
 And yet such is the effect of its approach to life, that 
 even after we know what it is, we feel as much as 
 ever its want of the power to move, and which we 
 never miss in a fine statue. In all I have said, there- 
 fore, of deception of the eye, I have only meant 
 deception for a moment or at a distance ; for Nature 
 allows of no substitutes that will bear continued or 
 close inspection. And yet, while she has placed this 
 beyond the reach of human hands, she has entrusted 
 Art with a pecuHar mission — the power, as I have 
 said, of doing something for the world which she her- 
 self refuses to do. How many of her most exquisite 
 forms, graces, and movements — how many of her 
 most beautiful combinations of colours, of lights, and 
 shadows that are — "instant seen and instant gone" — 
 does she not permit the painter to transfix for the 
 delight of ages ! And, indeed, he is entrusted with 
 another and a higher task, that of leading us to a 
 perception of many of her latent beauties, and of 
 many of her appearances which the unassisted eye 
 might not recognise as beauties, but for the direction 
 of the pencil. These considerations alone are enough 
 to show that Art has a place assigned to it in the 
 great scheme of beneficence by which man is allowed 
 to be the instrument of adding not only to his sources 
 of innocent enjoyment, but of instruction. " Painting 
 and sculpture," says Richardson, "are not necessary 
 
AND ON STYLE 
 
 7 
 
 to our being ; brutes and savage men subsist without 
 them ; but to our happiness as rational creatures they 
 are absolutely so." 
 
 From what I have said, it is evident I must be at 
 issue with Lessing, when he tells us that "all appear- 
 ances of Nature which, in their actual state, are but 
 of an instant's duration — all such appearances, be 
 they agreeable or otherwise, acquire, through the pro- 
 longed existence conferred on them by Art, a charac- 
 ter so contrary to Nature, that at every successive 
 view we take of them their expression becomes 
 weaker, till at length we turn from the contemplation 
 in weariness and disgust. La Mettrie, who had his 
 portrait painted and engraved in the character of 
 Democritus, laughs only on the first view. Look at 
 him again, and the philosopher is converted into a 
 buffoon, and his laugh into a grimace. Thus it is 
 likewise with the expression of pain. The agony 
 which is so great as to extort a shriek, either soon 
 abates in violence or it must destroy the unhappy 
 sufferer. Where torture so far overcomes the endur- 
 ing fortitude of a man's nature as to make him scream, 
 it is never for any continued space of time ; and thus 
 the apparent perpetuity expressed in the representation 
 of Art would only serve to give to his screams the 
 effect of womanish weakness or childish impatience." 
 
 Lessing argues in this way to show why the sculptor 
 of the Laocoon has not chosen to make the victim 
 bellow with pain, as in the description of his sufferings 
 by Virgil. The attitudes of the entire group, however, 
 being but of "an instant's duration," are, on the prin- 
 ciple urged by the critic against a stronger expression, 
 
8 ON THE IMITATION OF NATURE, 
 
 as inadmissible as if the sculptor had made the victim 
 appear to shriek with anguish. Then as to the un- 
 pleasant effect of a laughing portrait, we all feel how 
 disagreeable an unmeaning laugh is in nature ; and 
 in a portrait, unconnected with story or incident, it 
 becomes unmeaning or worse, if, as probably in the 
 instance alluded to by Lessing, the face looks at us. 
 He was, in fact, blinded by his theory, to the privilege 
 which Art, when it does not pretend to be Nature, 
 possesses of perpetuating motion and expression, and 
 which yet seem instantaneous ; a power as undeniable 
 as it is inexplicable. At the bidding of Michael 
 Angelo, life bursts from the grave, and its tenants rise^ 
 fall, or struggle with the fiends who drag them down ; 
 and on the canvases of Wilson or Caspar Poussin 
 clouds open ; lightnings flash, and the limbs of trees 
 are shivered, — and we recur again and again to the 
 contemplation of images of terror and grandeur that 
 have impressed, as they do us, past generations, and 
 shall still impress those to come; and so far from 
 " their expression becoming," as Lessing says, "weaker 
 at every successive view," it grows in reality stronger 
 and stronger ; for it is among the most remarkable 
 qualities of every work of true genius, that it gains on 
 us with time, while that which is merely specious 
 strikes most at first, and never again with the same 
 effect. 
 
 But the mission of Art includes other things which 
 Nature refuses to do, besides prolonging motion and 
 expression, and suggesting sound. 
 
 Wilkie took great pleasure in arranging tableaux 
 vivants for the amusement of his friends. I remember 
 
AND ON STYLE 
 
 9 
 
 seeing, at his house, such representations of Vandyke's 
 Cardinal Bentivoglio, his whole-length of Charles the 
 First in his robes, and other well-known pictures. As 
 may be supposed, they were remarkably well imitated, 
 the company were delighted, and one gentleman went 
 so far as to say, " I shall never enjoy pictures again." 
 
 I confess my impression was exactly the reverse. 
 I felt that I should enjoy the originals of these tableaux 
 far more for having seen these living imitations of 
 them ; and I think every painter must so feel who has 
 amused himself or been amused in this way. The 
 draperies stubbornly refuse to fall in lines as fine, or 
 in masses of light and shade, and colour, as broad as 
 in the picture imitated ; the unimportant throughout 
 the composition obtrudes, and the important often 
 conceals itself; and though, here and there, exquisite 
 beauties of effect may appear which no Art can rival, 
 yet even these are apt to be out of place in the general 
 arrangement, and the whole imitation has always far 
 less of that great essential, breadth, than we find in 
 the particular picture imitated. It is not that Nature 
 cannot do and has not done everything that is im- 
 pressive in Art, and infinitely more than Art has ever 
 attempted ; for she and she alone is the maker of Art, 
 but having done this, she refuses to make pictures; 
 because she will not interfere with the craft of the 
 painter, any more than she will allow him to substitute 
 the results of his craft for her matchless works. 
 
 And now we come to a great and unceasing diffi- 
 culty; the difficulty of choosing from among the 
 qualities of Nature that are most within reach of the 
 pencil, those we should strive to the utmost to attain. 
 
lo ON THE IMITA TION OF NA TURE, 
 
 and those which may be left out with advantage, or 
 but slightly indicated. All the most agreeable traits 
 of Nature, as well as all the least, are so variously 
 modified by circumstances and by associations, that 
 to attempt to give anything like general rules for 
 selection and rejection— that difficult task in which 
 the painter is engaged from the beginning to the end 
 of his work, and on which all that the mind has to do 
 with Art depends— to attempt to give general rules 
 for this would only lead to mannerism. Hogarth, in 
 his " Battle of the Pictures," has with infinite humour 
 opposed his Bacchanalian scene in the "Rake's 
 Progress" to a "Feast of the Gods;" but, when we 
 look at these seriously, we see two subjects brought 
 together in which, whatever they may have in common, 
 the treatment proper to each would be wholly im- 
 proper if exchanged. 
 
 Coleridge has well guarded the passage I have 
 quoted from him, by calling the difference from 
 Nature, which is essential to imitation, "a librating 
 difference.'' It will vary, in the hands of a painter of 
 taste, with the subject ; and his imitation will even be 
 less literal in some parts of the same picture than in 
 others, without destroying the unity of the whole. 
 
 Reynolds, in his "Death of Dido," indicates the 
 wound in her side by a slight touch of red, while a 
 mere matter-of-fact painter would draw our attention 
 to it by a degree of exact imitation that would be 
 sickening. 
 
 It is such a plodding and indiscriminate habit of 
 copying Nature that pleases Gerard Dow, to me, much 
 below the best painters of the Dutch school. Where 
 
AND ON STYLE 
 
 II 
 
 he would render with scrupulous precision every 
 wrinkle in the face of an old woman, greater artists, 
 as his master, Rembrandt, for instance, would express 
 the character of flesh, and make the head a means of 
 displaying a fine effect of chiaroscuro; and where 
 Dow would count the threads of a carpet, Terburgh, 
 Metzu, or Jan Steen, would express the beauty of its 
 surface or the richness of its colour. 
 
 It is not to his high finish that I object, but to 
 the tastelessness of his finish. Where the imitation 
 of minutiae is to stop it is not easy to determine; 
 but it is clear that the finish that be-littles, or that 
 suggests at the first glance the labour and time em- 
 ployed in it, must be wrong. 
 
 His Art is, therefore, exactly that which may be 
 accomplished by a clever, a patient, and laborious 
 man, without imagination, and with but ordinary taste. 
 Perhaps he stands at the head of a class of such 
 painters, and a very large class it is ; while the Art of 
 Terburgh, of Metzu, of Jan Steen, and, I need not 
 say, of Rembrandt, like all sterling Art, is ideal. 
 Nature not altered, but " to advantage dressed." 
 
 But here I feel the difficulty of offering advice 
 to students of different degrees of advancement — the 
 impossibility, indeed, of accommodating anything I 
 can say to the individual wants of all. In the prac- 
 tice of drawing or painting from Nature, there can 
 be no doubt that, until correctness of eye and obedi- 
 ence of hand are attained, the closest possible, the 
 most minute imitation, is the best. The aim at 
 deception can do no harm until these powers are 
 matured ; for, as Fuseli remarks, — " deception is the 
 
12 ON THE IMITATION OF NATURE, 
 
 parent of imitation;" and till the taste is well 
 advanced, it is in a high degree dangerous to attempt 
 to generalise. We should be able to put everything 
 we see in Nature into a picture before we venture to 
 leave anything out. I have known young painters 
 commence with generahsation, affecting a contempt 
 for the attention to minutiae of some of their con- 
 temporaries, the secret of which lay in their own 
 indolence. But the result of this was always that a 
 vague and uninformed style, in the end, consigned 
 their productions to oblivion. No painter ever 
 generalised with more taste and meaning than 
 Velasquez, but his early works are remarkable for 
 precision of imitation, of which ''The Water Carrier," 
 belonging to the Duke of Wellington, is an admirable 
 specimen. Indeed it may safely be assumed that no 
 pamter is likely to become great who does not begin 
 with scrupulous finish. There may have been 
 instances of the reverse, but in every such case there 
 has been something to unlearn. 
 
 Style is a comprehensive term applying to every- 
 thing in painting, — to composition, to form, to colour, 
 to chiaroscuro, and to execution. Of the last, indeed, 
 there are almost as many styles as painters, and of 
 all as many styles as schools. But there is nothing 
 analogous to these diversities of Art in Nature. Photo- 
 graphic pictures might be made from every variety of 
 scenery in the world, and yet what we may call their 
 style would be but one. Style, however, rightly under- 
 stood, is so far from objectionable in Painting, that it 
 forms one among its valuable prerogatives. The ob- 
 servation of Reynolds, that " peculiar marks are gener- 
 
AND ON STYLE 
 
 13 
 
 ally, if not always, defects," is directed against manner 
 not style; but as these are often confounded, it is 
 well that we should understand the difference. Style 
 in form, in character, in expression, in colour, and in 
 light and shadow, is the result of the choice of the best 
 of these with reference to the subject. It is, therefore, 
 synonymous with the ideal, and abstractedly considered 
 is natural, but almost always above individual Nature. 
 Manner is a departure from Nature, sometimes result- 
 ing from a dissatisfaction with her ordinary forms with- 
 out the ability of correcting them by comparison and 
 selection, but more often from the indolence that 
 adopts compendious modes of arrangement, expression, 
 execution, etc. The styles of the greatest painters 
 are, perhaps, in no instance perfectly free from some 
 alloy of manner, while the manner of a great painter, 
 as Fuseli has remarked, often becomes the style of 
 lesser ones.' 
 
 It by no means follows, however, that because styles 
 are different — I take the word now in its highest 
 signification — some are right and others WTong. 
 Apart from manner, the style of every genuine painter 
 is right ; the difference consisting in his giving some 
 quahty or quahties of Nature in more perfection than 
 they have been given by any other ; and if it be asked 
 whether Nature can supply every individual with some- 
 thing which, in the same degree, is denied to the rest ? 
 I would answer, that if the principles on which Nature 
 works are simpler than we are apt to imagine, the 
 combinations of effects resulting from these principles 
 are endless. 
 
 Style and subject are often confounded with each 
 
14 ON THE IMITATION OF NATURE, 
 
 other by writers, and in ordinary conversation nothing 
 is more common than this mistake : as an instance, I 
 remember that Paul Delaroche's picture of " Charles 
 the First insulted by the Soldiers " was said to be in 
 the style of Terburgh, because the dresses were such 
 as he painted. 
 
 In regarding early Italian Art, to which attention 
 has of late years been so much attracted, it is of great 
 consequence that we consider its distance from Nature 
 not as a departure from her, but as the nearest ap- 
 proach the painters could make to her, — a distance 
 they laboured to shorten with a remarkable steadiness 
 of advance to the consummation of Art in the hands of 
 Michael Angelo and Raphael. The general character 
 of mediaeval imitation is the same as that of Chinese 
 Art, and is evidently a style, if such it may be called, 
 which must chiefly mark immaturity everywhere and 
 under all circumstances. In the infant Art of every 
 country the accidental appearances of Nature are 
 omitted, not so much, perhaps, from their being 
 unperceived as from a notion that they would interfere, 
 and when imperfectly given they do interfere, with 
 beauty and expression, both of which have always been 
 the first objects of all serious Art. The Chinese, for 
 instance, though much of their ornamental painting 
 belongs to the grotesque, yet in their representations 
 of real life aim to the utmost at beauty, grace, and 
 expression. To those enthusiastic admirers of 
 mediaeval Art who may think there is something 
 sacrilegious in comparing anything by Chinese hands 
 with it, I might mention that Flaxman, than whom 
 no man ever more fully appreciated early Italian Art, 
 
AND ON STYLE 
 
 and who, indeed, was the first among the moderns 
 to direct attention to it, saw how much, apart from 
 subject, Chinese painting had in common with it ; for 
 I remember seeing Chinese pictures hanging on the 
 walls of his parlour, which he admired for their grace 
 and simplicity, as well as for the beauty of their colour. 
 It may not, indeed, be impossible that the Chinese 
 exercised some influence on European Art at its re- 
 vival. Lord Lindsay notices a resemblance to Chinese 
 Art in some of the Roman frescoes executed at the 
 beginning of the eleventh century; and if Chinese 
 silks were imported by the Roman emperors, why 
 might not some of the pictures of that singular people 
 (a people whose artists have always been colourists) 
 find their way to Rome, when painting was nearly ex- 
 tinct in Europe ? The resemblance between Chinese 
 and Venetian colour is very striking; much more so 
 than any resemblance between Indian, or Persian, and 
 Venetian Art. 
 
 The severity of critics on the sameness of the works 
 of one hand is not always just. Where it is same- 
 ness of an excellence we should be grateful for it. 
 The gentleness, so utterly removed from insipidity, of 
 Raphael, the sublimity of Michael Angelo, the almost 
 invariably golden tones of Titian, or the pervading 
 silver of Paul Veronese, are things of which true 
 taste never tires. To demand that every work of one 
 master should be distinct in all its characteristics, is 
 to ask for something which the conditions of human 
 nature refuse to grant. We have sufficient variety 
 in the various men ; and the endeavour of a painter to 
 go out of himself and into another, to give up what 
 
1 6 ON THE I MIT A TION OF NA TURE 
 
 may be called his birthright^ is always to be lamented 
 if he have genius. A friend of Stothard, on being told 
 that he had painted a picture very like Rubens, said, 
 with much good sense, " I would rather see a picture 
 by him very like Stothard. " Gainsborough occasionally 
 stands "on the same level in portraiture with Reynolds, 
 because he kept himself distinct; but had he at- 
 tempted the same style, he must at once have fallen 
 below his illustrious rival, there to remain. 
 
SECTION II 
 
 On the Lnitation of Art 
 
 A YOUNG painter at the commencement of his studies, 
 how far soever he may be from a perception of the 
 highest beauties of pictures, will often see truly some 
 of their greatest faults. As he becomes better ac- 
 quainted with fine works, the beauties he discovers in 
 them atone for the faults which he still sees; but 
 if, on becoming more alive to their excellences, he 
 allows himself to be persuaded that the faults are ne- 
 cessarily connected with the beauties, — or that they 
 are conventional merits, and not only inseparable from, 
 but indispensable to, particular styles, — he makes an 
 opening in his mind for the admission of all the un- 
 founded theories which ingenious critics have broached 
 on the false system of considering pictures as the Art, 
 rather than as manifestations of parts of the Art, which 
 is the most that can be said even of the greatest works 
 known to the world. 
 
 Were the study of pictures alone sufficient to make 
 great painters of us, we are bound to surpass all our 
 predecessors. But with apparently greater advantages, 
 in this respect, than the world ever before presented, 
 the young painter has more real difficulties to contend 
 
 c 
 
i8 ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 with, in the commencement of his studies now, than 
 at any former time. The very wealth of Art creates 
 one source of embarrassment. The student is apt to 
 be so impressed with awe by the works of the great 
 masters now congregated in galleries, that any attempt 
 to rival or combine their excellences seems utterly 
 hopeless. He wanders through the public collections, 
 admiring rather than studying the productions of an 
 order of beings that he cannot believe are ever again 
 to exist. He settles it in his mind that an approach 
 to such excellence will be happiness enough for him. 
 H^3 aim, therefore, is low from the first ; and, as is 
 always the case, he falls short of his aim, and dooms 
 himself to mediocrity for life. This is the defect of 
 one class of minds. 
 
 Another class find it easy to imitate in a superficial 
 way, but in a way sufficiently plausible to catch the 
 admiration of superficial critics, the dash of Art. They 
 omit details, because great painters have done so ; 
 but they do not see that the very omissions of the 
 great masters are full of slight and exquisite indications 
 of knowledge which they have not acquired. They 
 endeavour to grasp the end without being acquainted 
 with the means; and though they may impose on 
 themselves and the world for a time, the emptiness of 
 their pretensions is sure to be discovered at last. It 
 is in reference to the productions of such minds that 
 Richardson says, "there is bold painting, and there 
 is also impudent painting.'' 
 
 Another error, and as I conceive a very pernicious 
 and prevailing one, is sectarianism in Art ; the bigoted 
 admiration of any one school or any one master, how- 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 19 
 
 ever deserving of admiration, to the exclusion of all 
 the rest. There cannot be a greater mistake ; and I 
 have invariably remarked, that he who pins his faith 
 wholly on any one style is exactly he who least per- 
 ceives that in it which is its peculiar charm. All 
 great masters throw light on each other; and I am 
 convinced that no mind will thoroughly relish Raphael 
 and Michael Angelo, which does not thoroughly relish 
 Rubens and Rembrandt. Nay, I will say, that the 
 simplicity and the purity of feeling of Giotto, Angelico, 
 and others of the early Italian masters, will be best 
 appreciated by the mind that is most sensibly alive to 
 every variety of excellence in the Art. The bigoted 
 sectarian generally admires in the wrong place, — clings 
 to what is merely accidental, to that which belongs to 
 the time and country in which the painter has lived ; 
 and ever fails to perceive that w^hich is essential in the 
 style, that which is catholic, and which therefore con- 
 nects all the first-rate minds of all ages with each 
 other. It is this essence which is really the Art, all 
 else is but its dress. 
 
 Another obstacle to the advantage to be derived 
 from the works of the old masters, is the belief that 
 everything has been done that can be done. We are 
 prone to consider the Art as an inclosure in which we 
 can only travel in a circle, rather than as a vantage- 
 ground from which fresh discoveries in Nature may be 
 made. It is easy to add capricious and eccentric 
 novelties of style to what exists ; but to present some 
 genuine quality of Nature for the first time, or some 
 new combination of what is already known to Art, is 
 the great difficulty; and yet, I believe, it might be 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 oftener and more easily accomplished than it is, if we 
 would allow Art to lead us to Nature, rather than erect 
 it into a barrier against all in Nature that is not already 
 admitted within its confines. He who believes that 
 Nature is not exhausted, will, I am convinced, if he 
 truly loves her, find that she is not. It is this faith 
 in her abundance that has caused every revival of Art 
 from its slumbers. Such a faith inspired Rubens and 
 Rembrandt to restore the glories of the Flemish and 
 Dutch schools, not by attempting their exact revival, 
 but by opening new views and creating each a style of 
 his own, which, in spite of many and great faults, has 
 placed them for ever among the most illustrious bene- 
 factors of painting. A Hke faith emboldened Hogarth, 
 notwithstanding the most discouraging circumstances 
 that ever genius was surrounded by, to create a species 
 of Art, unknown to the world before him, and to carry 
 it at once to a condition precluding all imitation ; and 
 it was the same faith in the boundless stores of Nature 
 that enabled Reynolds to give a fresh charm to por- 
 trait, after all that had been done for it by Holbein, 
 Raphael, Titian, Rubens, Vandyke, Velasquez, and 
 Rembrandt. 
 
 It is easy to delude ourselves into the belief that 
 we love Art or that we love Nature, but the genuine 
 love and appreciation of both will certainly produce 
 such effects as I have noticed ; for the great painters, 
 that have been mentioned, have all achieved their 
 separate triumphs by that unerring instinct of genius 
 which looks to Art only as the interpreter of Nature, 
 and not as a thing in itself perfect and complete. 
 
 The minds of students are much more impressed, in 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 21 
 
 the commencement of their studies, by the productions 
 of their contemporaries than by the works of the old 
 masters,^ and these early impressions are not always 
 wholly eradicated through the longest life. There may 
 be seeming exceptions to this, but I believe there are 
 very few real ones. That contemporary Art is the 
 first to impress us may be advantageous, or otherwise, 
 according to circumstances. Its advantages need not 
 be dwelt upon, as such influence stands in no need of 
 recommendation ; but it may be useful to point out 
 some of the dangers of what is an unavoidable because 
 an unconscious habit of our students, the habit of 
 resorting to our annual exhibitions as to so many 
 schools. 
 
 In an assemblage of the accidental productions of 
 a year, and with which it is necessary to cover every 
 inch of wall, there must, of necessity, be a great pre- 
 ponderance of the indifferent, and very much of what 
 is positively bad; and inexperienced eyes cannot 
 dwell often and long on this without injury. The 
 student is apt to thank his stars that he can do better 
 than much that he sees, and contents himself with re- 
 spectable mediocrity ; and the more so as it is found 
 that mediocrity, managed with ordinary tact, may secure 
 patronage, and even fortune, while unworldly genius is 
 often neglected. There are no topics more frequently 
 dwelt on by writers and talkers than the faults of the 
 age — and yet nothing so difficult to understand. But 
 to the young artist it is of the last importance that he 
 should see clearly what are the besetting sins of the 
 
 1 I can remember thinking Lawrence a better painter than 
 Reynolds, and West equal to Raphael. 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 school to which he belongs. These, it is very true, 
 are to be seen in their fullest luxuriance in our ex- 
 hibitions; but there is danger, if the student resort 
 frequently to them for instruction, that he may become 
 hopelessly blind to the mannerism of the day ; and, 
 indeed, this error in self-education is the chief cause 
 of the decline of Art in every school. 
 
 A young artist will find, as he advances, that a 
 thorough appreciation of the qualities that make paint- 
 ing poetic is chiefly confined to painters, or to others 
 whose occupations have left them much leisure to in- 
 dulge a natural admiration of the Art. A great poet 
 may feel the beauties of Painting, but he does not 
 necessarily feel them because he is a great poet, and 
 it is possible that even Shakspeare may scarcely 
 have known a good picture from a bad one, though 
 there can be no doubt that his perception of a poetic 
 incident or thought in a picture, would have been 
 quicker than that of most men. Coleridge has noticed 
 that Milton, though he must have seen in his youth 
 the greatest works of Art in Italy, makes no allusion 
 to them in any of his writings. 
 
 Neither Byron nor Scott, with all their relish for 
 the beauties of Nature, had any knowledge or love of 
 Painting, as Art ; and I believe, among the poets of 
 the age, Mr. Rogers, in possessing such a taste, is the 
 one exception. The want of a true taste in Art is 
 not a fault ; but it is a grievous fault when those who 
 are without it, or who have a mere amateur smattering 
 knowledge of Painting (a far worse thing than no 
 knowledge), erect themselves, on account of their rank, 
 or fortune, or position in society, into directors of the 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 23 
 
 public in matters of Art. Such wealthy and titled 
 meddlers have often, though with the best intentions 
 on their part, been the worst enemies of the Arts of 
 this country. 
 
 If a great poet be not necessarily a judge of pictures, 
 still less is a great statesman or a great prince likely 
 to find time to become one. We are fond of recurring 
 to the golden age of Leo X., during which, however, 
 Michael Angelo, then in the prime of life, and when 
 his powers as an artist were greater than they had been 
 or ever were again, was shamefully misemployed. His 
 great works in the Sistine Chapel were stopped, and 
 he was banished to the mountains of Pietra Santa, 
 during almost the entire pontificate of Leo, there to 
 do the work of an engineer ! That the greatest works 
 of Art, since its revival, graced the ages of Julius II. 
 and Leo X., is, I am inclined to think, traceable to a 
 rare and fortunate concurrence of circumstances, rather 
 than to any remarkable taste in those Popes, other 
 than a general love of the magnificent. 
 
 But I would fain hope, though the highest excel- 
 lences in all the fine Arts are addressed only to the 
 few, yet that few is not so small a number as may be 
 supposed ; for I believe thousands of modest minds 
 pass silently through the world, unheard of, whose 
 lives are sweetened by their gentle influences, and 
 whose real enjoyments in matters of taste are far greater 
 than the enjoyments of many who are publicly known 
 as patrons. 
 
 But to return to our subject. — "The eye," as Sir 
 Charles Eastlake says, " has its own poetry ; " and it 
 is of great importance that we keep in mind the dis- 
 
24 ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 tinction between a poetic thought or incident and the 
 poetry that is inherent in Painting, and without which 
 Painting is not a fine art. 
 
 In the " Cephalus and Aurora," of Nicolo Poussin 
 in our National Gallery, the substitution of Apollo for 
 the rising sun, as he has managed it, is in the highest 
 degree poetic. But the thought alone is a mere imi- 
 tation of the poets, which might have occurred to the 
 most prosaic mind. It is entirely, therefore, to the 
 technical treatment — to the colour, and to the manner 
 in which the forms of the chariot and horses of the 
 god melt into the shapes of clouds, in fact, to the 
 chiaroscuro, that the incident, as connected with the 
 picture, owes its poetry; and the same technical quali- 
 ties in the hands of Rembrandt, in one of his finest 
 landscapes, make the sails of a windmill, from which 
 the last glow of evening is reflected, eminently poetic. 
 
 Mr. Ruskin has noticed incidents in the pictures of 
 Tintoret that show how fine an imagination he pos- 
 sessed; but had not his light and shadow and his 
 colour been of a high order, the works containing these 
 incidents would have passed into oblivion. 
 
 I have never seen the "Polyphemus" of Nicolo 
 Poussin. To judge from copies, its effect should be 
 light and silvery ; but the engraving, alone, shows it 
 to me as the most poetic of all the landscape com- 
 positions of this eminently poetic painter. It is made 
 up of the most beautiful and romantic features of 
 Nature, and richly peopled from classic poetry. The 
 fountain in the foreground, flowing from the urn of a 
 river god, and tended in its course by a beautiful 
 group of nymphs, tells us of the death of Acis. One 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF ART 25 
 
 of the nymphs turns to the distant sea, in which 
 Galatea has hid herself, and from which Polyphemus 
 endeavours to draw her forth by his rude minstrelsy. 
 So I understand the picture. But, whether or not I 
 translate it aright, its impression is equally poetic, and 
 was so to me before I looked for the story. Its great 
 feature, the form of the giant relieved upon the bright 
 sky as he sits on his rocky throne, owes its grandeur 
 to the strictly technical principles of perspective, linear 
 and aerial ; and if the painters of antiquity were, as 
 some have supposed, unacquainted with the laws of 
 this science, it is clear that Zeuxis himself could not 
 have given the sublimity this subject has received at 
 the hands of the French painter ; and we are sure that 
 neither Orcagna nor any ItaHan, before perspective or 
 chiaroscuro (which includes aerial perspective) were 
 understood, could have effected such an impression. 
 
 In endeavouring to enforce the importance of tech- 
 nical qualities, I do not undervalue the high conceptions 
 of Art. But I wish to draw attention to the only 
 means by which they can be fully displayed. These 
 means are the things that are proper to painting 
 alone, — and which it is too much the fashion to 
 depreciate, as merely technical, merely ornamental, 
 or merely sensual. 
 
 I would say to the painter who undervalues these, — 
 Tell your story, describe your scene, express your senti- 
 ment, or display your learning in words, and you may 
 arrive at the honours of a poet or a philosopher ; but 
 do not attempt to do so in a language with which you 
 have made yourself but imperfectly acquainted, be- 
 cause you were insensible to its worth, — and expect 
 
26 
 
 ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 to share the reward of those who are skilled in that 
 language, though they may not possess your imagina- 
 tion or your knowledge of books. 
 
 Let us not be duped by words. Let us remember 
 that what is technical in Painting has not yet been 
 achieved with the perfection that may be imagined 
 even by the greatest artists ;— that what is ornamental 
 is an imitation of the ornaments with which the Crea- 
 tor has decorated every work of his hands ; and that 
 what is sensual is only so, in an evil sense, by an 
 abuse of his gifts. 
 
 There is no word in our language more often mis- 
 applied to Art than this word sensual — no modes of 
 reasoning more erroneous than those of late so much 
 in use, based on analogies, that have no real existence, 
 between the pleasures of sense. A modern, accom- 
 plished, and eloquent writer,^ following a notion of 
 Blake, deprecates, for instance, the occasional soften- 
 ing of the outline, by comparing it to " that lax morality 
 which confounds the limits of light and darkness, right 
 and wrong. Not being a painter, he is not aware 
 that he is here objecting to the truest imitation of 
 Nature. 
 
 Again he says, " We find the purest and brightest 
 colours only in Fra Angelic o's pictures, with a general 
 predominance of blue, which we have observed to 
 prevail more or less in so many of the semi-Byzan- 
 tine painters ; and which, fanciful as it may appear, I 
 cannot but attribute, independently of mere tradition, 
 to an inherent, instinctive sympathy between their 
 mental constitution and the colour in question, as 
 ^ Lord Lindsay. 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 27 
 
 that of red or of blood may be observed to prevail 
 among painters in whom Sense or Nature predominates 
 over Spirit." Now why, I would ask, is the reasoning 
 in this passage to be confined to the colours of red and 
 of blue ? — Why may it not discover that painters in 
 whom avarice predominates are fond of yellow because 
 it is the colour of gold, — and so on ? But, in truth, 
 the sensual Correggio seems less fond of red than 
 almost any other painter. In all his works, with which 
 I am acquainted, it is very sparingly introduced, while 
 nothing can exceed the refinement with which delicate 
 blues (and he was very fond of blue) are managed by 
 him. Then, again, a distinction seems implied, in the 
 passage I have quoted, between the Spiritual and the 
 Natural, as if it were possible to express the spiritual 
 by any other medium than the natural. A painter, it 
 is true, may be very natural without being spiritual, 
 but that which is spiritual in Art can only be fully 
 developed in the degree in which the painter is natural. 
 
 Though I know little of the works of Fra Angelico, I 
 will not question the justice of the praises that have 
 been given to him by his warmest admirers. I do not 
 envy the man who can read the accounts handed down 
 to us of the character and habits of this sainted 
 painter, and his heart not be warmed. Such a being, 
 so purified from all earthly stain, and living a life so 
 entirely above the world, endued also with genius and 
 taste, must have been, as he was felt to be by his con- 
 temporaries, the fittest painter, of that time, of angels. 
 But then he could only bring to the task the imperfect 
 Art he possessed, and it seems to me a fatal sign 
 against all healthy progress in Painting, that it is 
 
28 ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 necessary to say that such colour and such evanescence 
 of treatment as Reynolds has given to that exquisite 
 group of winged heads in our National Gallery, would 
 have made even the angels of Angelico more angelic. 
 I say nothing of the character of the cherubs of Rey- 
 nolds. Call them merely beautiful children, if you 
 will. We know they are but portraits, in different 
 views, of one child; but were they as ordinary in 
 character as the children of Murillo, I should still say 
 that, in colour and general treatment, they are among 
 the most angelic things known to the i\rt, and simply 
 because they are the most natural in the highest sense 
 of the word : and I am convinced that the sincere, the 
 truly humble, and therefore the truly teachable An- 
 gelico, would have gladly adopted all that Reynolds 
 possessed, beyond himself, could he have seen it ; — 
 yes, even though Reynolds has permitted the ringlets 
 of his cherubs to float loosely on the breath of Heaven, 
 instead of arranging them in sculpturesque regularity 
 over their foreheads with all the formality of a hair- 
 dresser; and which, as it accords with the style of 
 the early Italians, is by some critics, and not a few 
 painters, considered essential to the adornment of 
 angelic faces. 
 
 A system of imitation that rejects what such men as 
 Titian, Correggio, Rembrandt, Rubens, and Reynolds, 
 have revealed to the world of the beauties of Nature, 
 is based on a mistake as great as it would be in an 
 astronome- to rest satisfied with the state in which 
 Astronomy was left by Copernicus.^ 
 
 ^ I am glad to find that opinions which I expressed to 
 the students of the Royal Academy, five years ago, are in accord- 
 
THE ANNUNCIATION— BY ANGELICO DA FIESOLE. 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 29 
 
 The supposed usurping nature of colour, by which 
 it is thought to draw attention too much from higher 
 qualities, we shall always find has been inferred only 
 from Art in which there is little story or expression ; 
 and of such Art it would be nearer the truth to say 
 that the colour does not interfere with the story or 
 expression, but reigns paramount only because the 
 story and expression do not interfere with it. Does 
 not the beauty of Hogarth's colour, instead of inter- 
 fering in the slightest degree with his story or ex- 
 pression, greatly aid them? When we stand before 
 his pictures in the National Gallery, is their colour, 
 fine as it is, ever the first thing we think or speak 
 
 ance with those of Dr. Waagen, from whose letter, addressed 
 *' To the Editor of the Times, July 13th, 1854," the following is 
 a quotation : — 
 
 Within a few years a school of painters has arisen in Eng- 
 land whose aim it is to elevate the character of modern art, not 
 only by the treatment of sacred subjects, but by the adoption of 
 the more or less undeveloped forms of the 15th century. Con- 
 sidering the warm interest I feel for the true advance of art in 
 this country, the kindness and deference with which my opinions 
 are here received by artists and friends of art, and the experience 
 which a German especially has gathered from the results of a 
 similar movement, originating 40 years ago, in his own country, 
 I feel it a kind of obligation to call the attention of the art-loving 
 portion of the public to the real tendency of this school. I need 
 hardly say that I sympathise entirely with the painters of this 
 class, both German and English, in the exceeding attractiveness 
 of that pure and earnest religious feeling which pervades the 
 works of Fiesole and other masters of the 15th century. I also 
 comprehend the liability in their minds to identify the expression 
 of that feeling with the forms peculiar to those masters. At the 
 same time, it is no less true that this identification, and the 
 efforts, however well meant, to which it has led, are totally mis- 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 of ?_The truth is, that to a cultivated eye it is bad 
 colour, that which is unnatural, whether from exaggera- 
 tion or from falling short of the hues of Nature, that 
 attracts attention from the subject and prevents our full 
 enjoyment of whatever other excellences the work may 
 have, — ^just as an instrument out of tune would preclude 
 the ear from the enjoyment of a fine piece of music. 
 
 It would be desirable, were it possible, that we 
 should form in our minds a standard of excellence 
 distinct from every particular style that has yet 
 existed ; but of such a standard we can only attain an 
 
 taKcn, and can only frustrate that end for which these painters 
 are so zealously labouring. Guided by this erroneous principle, 
 they have sought to transfer to their pictures not only the beauties, 
 but the defects of their great models ; unmindful of the fact, 
 which a general survey of the history of art does not fail to teach, 
 that those early masters attract us not on account of their 
 meagre drawing, hard outlines, erroneous perspective, conven- 
 tional glories, etc., but, on the contrary, in spite of these defects 
 and peculiarities. We overlook these simply and solely because, 
 in the undeveloped state of the scientific and technical resources 
 of painting at that period, they could not be avoided. But it is 
 quite another thing when, under the false impression that the 
 feeling they emulate can be better reared by ignorance than by 
 knowledge, we see these defects and peculiarities transferred to 
 the works of modem artists, who purposely close theii eyes to 
 those scientific and technical lights which have now become the 
 common property of art, and retrograde to a state of darkness 
 for which there is no excuse. 
 
 * ' It must be also borne in mind, that the whole style of feel- 
 ing proper to those early masters, deeply rooted as it was in the 
 rehgious enthusiasm of their times — of which it may be considered 
 as the highest and most refined fruit — cannot possibly be volun- 
 tarily recalled in a period of such totally different tendencies as 
 the present. It stands to reason, therefore, that the pictures even 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 31 
 
 imperfect vision — by the comparison of the styles that 
 have existed, and the discovery thence of the great 
 principles common to all. 
 
 In referring to pictures, I wish, as much as possible, 
 to speak of those which are immediately accessible to 
 us ; but our National Gallery has nothing that can be 
 considered as a worthy specimen of Mediaeval Art.^ 
 The two pictures attributed to Taddeo Gaddi are but 
 antiquarian curiosities ; and the little Perugino is not 
 a work from which the master of Raphael is to be 
 judged. Francia cannot be classed with the mediaeval 
 
 of the most gifted modem artists, produced by such a process, 
 can at most be considered but as able reminiscences of the middle 
 ages, but by no means as the healthy expositors of the religious 
 feeling, now, thank God, greatly revived and proper to our age, 
 or of the resources of art so plentifully within their reach ; while 
 those of the less gifted, able only to counterfeit the defects, but 
 not to emulate the spirit of the olden time, present a scene of 
 misplaced labour the most painful a true lover of art can well 
 behold." 
 
 1 While these pages are passing through the press, I observe 
 that four specimens of early Art have been purchased for the 
 nation. A picture, ruined in its colour, of a Madonna and 
 Child, attended by Angels, and appearing to a Saint, who has a 
 desk, with a book and papers, before him, supposed to be by 
 Masaccio ; an indifferent portrait supposed to be by Albert Durer, 
 but destitute of any of the excellence of that great painter ; a Holy 
 Family, supposed to be by a pupil of Leonardo da Vinci ; and 
 a Head of the Saviour, of no value whatever, by an unknown 
 painter. 
 
 At the same time the proprietors of the Crystal Palace at 
 Sydenham have given us the means of forming some judgment 
 of Mediaeval Art, by a few powerfully-coloured copies from im- 
 portant works by Cimabue, Giotto, Fra Angelico, and others 
 of the early Italians. 
 
32 ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 painters, as he was contemporary with Raphael. Still, 
 he is a painter whom it is at present much the fashion, 
 with the advocates for the imitation of early Art, to 
 praise. His two pictures in our gallery are perhaps 
 not fair specimens of his style ; for the mediocrity that 
 pervades them, as well in character and sentiment as 
 in every other quality, is redeemed only by the head of 
 the Saviour, in the arched one, which is very fine, and 
 the more striking by its contrast to the red-eyed angels 
 on either side, — for both of which the painter's lay 
 figure might have served as a model. Nevertheless, as 
 I have heard the entire treatment of these pictures 
 highly commended by critics who would almost ex- 
 clude Raphael from among religious painters, I would 
 ask any body acquainted with Art — any one except a 
 bigoted devotee to the earlier masters — to turn from 
 the silver purity of Correggio to the Francias, and tell 
 me whether he does not feel how common, how tone- 
 less, and how hard their colour is, compared to that of 
 Correggio. I use the expression hard^ for colour may 
 be hard, and always is so when destitute of the grada- 
 tions and subtle varieties of tint which are inseparable 
 from it in Nature. 
 
 I am fully aware how often injustice is the result of 
 comparisons between dissimilar styles where each has 
 excellences of its own ; yet in comparing Correggio's 
 little picture of the "Virgin and Child'' with the 
 largest of the Francias, I feel that, in as far as the 
 colour and chiaroscuro of the former is more pure, 
 more refined, and therefore more natural, it is far more 
 in accord with holiness of sentiment than that of the 
 latter, — and that, even with regard to expression, the 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 33 
 
 " Madonna " of Correggio has at least that of maternal 
 joy and tenderness — while the insipid face that Francia 
 has given, has not sufficient character to express an 
 earnest sentiment of any kind. 
 
 There is a righteousness overmuch in taste, which, 
 though it may begin in sincerity, cannot but end 
 in sheer affectation; and against the mischief of 
 which the appeal must be to our eyes and to 
 common sense. No painter ever spread more of the 
 purest light of Heaven over the objects he painted 
 than Correggio. If what he shows us by that light is 
 not Heavenly — if, as Fuseli says, "he could build 
 Heaven, but he could not people it " — the light itself 
 which he drew down is not degraded. The difficulty 
 is, to separate in our minds qualities which we see 
 united in particular styles of Art, and which we are 
 therefore apt to imagine cannot and must not be 
 separated. It was a want of the power of doing this 
 that made Blake exclaim, "Correggio is a soft and 
 effeminate, and therefore a most cruel demon, — whose 
 whole delight is to cause endless labour to whoever 
 suffers him to enter his mind." 
 
 The truth is, Blake had attempted the imitation of 
 those natural qualities of Art so often denounced as 
 ornamental and sensual. He had suffered, as he said, 
 from "temptations and perturbations, destructive of 
 imaginative power by means of that infernal machine 
 called chiaroscuro, in the hands of Venetian and 
 Flemish demons who hate the Roman and Florentine 
 schools." These temptations led him to experiments 
 in which he failed, and by a consequence, which he did 
 not see, he failed in an adequate expression of his 
 
 D 
 
34 ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 conceptions, many of which are beautiful, and all the 
 emanations of one of the purest and most sincere of 
 minds; while Stothard, a far greater, because, as a 
 painter, a far wiser man than Blake, by availing him- 
 self of the assistance of everything excellent in pre- 
 vious Art, which his just mind could always separate 
 from the objectionable in subject or expression, has 
 left a rich legacy to his country of the true, the pure, 
 the playful, the graceful, and the sacred, — enshrined 
 in a style, not faultless certainly, but his own^ and 
 under the direction of a most refined taste. 
 
 And yet Blake's Art, imperfect as it is, is more 
 satisfactory to me than most of the modern imitations 
 of the early Italians that I have yet seen ; for it has an 
 earnestness of expression which I confess I look for 
 in vain in the Giottos of the present day. 
 
 It was greatly for the health and strength of early 
 Art, as well in Italy as in Germany, that it did not 
 begin with Imagination. And what is true of the 
 progress of a school is true of the progress of an in- 
 dividual — for the young painter who begins with Ima- 
 gination (and this was the fatal mistake of Blake) 
 begins at the wrong end of the Art. Hogarth painted 
 portraits and family groups before he began to invent ; 
 and the angels of the early Christian painters were 
 but a higher order of the attendants of the altar, while 
 the attitudes and expressions, and generally the gar- 
 ments of their saints, were suggested by the realities 
 that were every day before their eyes in churches and 
 convents. But in proportion as the imaginative faculty 
 developed itself, the painters ceased to introduce, into 
 sacred subjects, priestly and monkish habits, and the 
 
ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 35 
 
 practice was entirely laid aside by Michael Angelo, 
 and by Raphael (in his later practice) — and in their 
 hands Art became truly catholic. 
 
 Sir Charles Eastlake says that " among the merits 
 or recommendations of the Cartoons may be reckoned 
 their being interesting in all places and to all classes 
 of Christians. But for this circumstance, perhaps, we 
 should not now possess them ; for when the treasures 
 of Art collected by Charles the First were sold, and 
 such pictures as were deemed 'superstitious' were 
 ordered to be 'forthwith burnt,' the Cartoons would 
 hardly have been repurchased by Cromwell, to whom 
 we are indebted for preserving them to the nation, if 
 they could have been considered to come within the 
 proscribed class. 
 
 But the young painter is now told that he must " go 
 back to first principles." And what, I would ask, are 
 these first principles? — Many of the principles of 
 Nature, most important to Art, are among the latest 
 discoveries. But the student must "ascend to the 
 fountain-head, he must study Duccio and Giotto that 
 he may paint like Taddeo di Bertolo and Masaccio, — 
 Taddeo di Bertolo and Masaccio that he may paint 
 like Perugino and Lucca Signorelli — and Perugino and 
 Lucca Signorelli that he may paint like Raphael and 
 Michael Angelo. But, I ask, why should he aim to 
 paint like any, even the last of these ? Why attempt 
 that which never has been, and never can be, accom- 
 plished ? — namely, the reproduction of the exact style 
 of any age or master. 
 
 1 Note to Kugler's " Handbook of Painting for Italy." 
 2 Lord Lindsay. 
 
36 ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 Northcote was told that a picture had been painted 
 by a living artist that might be mistaken for a Claude. 
 "Then I know," was his reply, "that it is good for 
 nothing; if you should tell me that a picture were 
 painted as fine as a Claude it would be quite another 
 thing, for to be equal to Claude a painter must be as 
 distinct from him as he was from all the painters 
 before him. He must have looked at Nature for 
 himself, as Claude did; availing himself of the 
 assistance of previous Art only in the degree in which 
 Claude did so." 
 
 We can no more recall the precise Art of a past age 
 than we can return to the manners, the customs, and 
 the entire mode of thinking of that age. Man, in 
 every period of the world, is essentially the same ; but 
 his tastes are so modified by the conditions of the 
 society in which he lives, that all attempts at literal 
 imitation of a bygone epoch become mere affectation ; 
 and as the spirit of Chaucer is not to be caught by 
 adopting his phraseology or by printing in black letter, 
 so neither shall we catch the spirit of any school or 
 master by adopting that from it which is merely 
 temporary. 
 
 The system on which the most original painters have 
 imitated their predecessors has always been eclectic, 
 and so it will always be ; for without any settled plan 
 of combining the beauties of other schools, like that 
 which has given the name of eclectics especially to the 
 Carracci and their scholars, no painter of true taste 
 can see an excellence anywhere, without the wish to 
 engraft it on his own style. 
 
 So it was with Raphael, with Titian, with Rubens, 
 
ON THE IMITA TION OF ART 
 
 37 
 
 and with every painter of comprehensive mind. Such 
 men are as original as the naturalisti, who opposed the 
 system of the Carracci, and much more universal ; for 
 they include the principle of the naturalisti, without 
 their slavery to the peculiarities of a living model taken 
 without selection. It is remarkable that the Carracci 
 did not disdain to learn from the naturalisti, while 
 the latter remained satisfied with their own principle, 
 which in such hands as those of Caravaggio was very 
 effective, and where his subjects were from ordinary 
 Nature, the best of all principles ; for it is clear it did 
 not hinder him from adopting, from previous Art, what- 
 ever was congenial with his own mind; so that, in some 
 degree, even this leader of the naturalisti was eclectic. 
 
 There are no such things as incompatible excellences 
 or beauties ; for as the excellences of a picture are 
 always relative, so any object, or expression, or shape, 
 or grace, or colour, however beautiful or perfect in 
 itself, or any charm of execution, if it does not har- 
 monise with the work, or if it interferes with the 
 breadth or unity of the whole, ceases to be a beauty or 
 an excellence. It is only, therefore, in the hands of 
 inferior painters that eclecticism can be charged with 
 incongruity. 
 
 But eclecticism has been supposed to foster medio- 
 crity. And this it will do, if it confine the painter too 
 much to the imitation of Art, though it be the Art of 
 the greatest masters. But no truly great artist ever 
 allowed even the finest pictures to stand between him 
 and Nature, nor ever permitted any narrow sectarian 
 preferences to blind him to a single excellence in any 
 school or master. 
 
38 ON THE IMITATION OF ART 
 
 How far the adoption 'of a thought, incident, or 
 attitude from previous Art is liable to the charge of 
 plagiarism, has been determined by Fuseli. Wherever 
 such a translation can be made with a certainty of 
 improvement, it merits commendation, — wherever 
 not, let it be given up to the severity of criticism. 
 Masaccio is not robbed by Raphael, but honoured 
 and made more known. 
 
 At the same time the habit of looking much into 
 Art for suggestions of incident, attitude, or composi- 
 tion, is full of the danger of encouraging indolence 
 and repressing originality. I know that Flaxman, 
 classical and eclectic as he was, derived the hint of 
 many of his most elegant compositions and single 
 figures from the streets and from the drawing-room, 
 and still more from his own domestic circle ; — and 
 Stothard spoke of walking the streets for his subjects. 
 
SECTION III 
 
 On the Distinction between Laws and Rules 
 
 There is a common notion that genius elevates its 
 possessor above the observance of rules ; a notion that 
 falls in with the many vague impressions against the 
 value of teaching in matters of taste, impressions 
 flattering to indolence and to the vanity that so often 
 gives to the possessor of a certain degree of imagina- 
 tion high opinions of his own genius. This notion 
 and these impressions suggest an examination of the 
 relative authority of what are very different things, 
 namely, the laws and the rules of Art. 
 
 It is to genius that we owe the discovery of all the 
 laws of Nature yet known ; and to genius do we look 
 for future discoveries, or greater accuracy superadded 
 to our present knowledge. Genius should, therefore, 
 be the last to violate those principles it has been the 
 first to make known ; and I believe it will be found 
 that, so far from genius being lawless, its existence is 
 proved by a knowledge of, and obedience to, the laws 
 of Art, such as is never displayed by mere talent or 
 cleverness, although the latter may often seem to ad- 
 here most closely to established precedent. 
 
 Rubens and Rembrandt are spoken of by Fuseli as 
 
40 ON THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN 
 
 painters who, "disdaining to acknowledge the usual 
 laws of admission to the Temple of Fame, boldly 
 forged their own keys, entered, and took possession, 
 each of a most conspicuous place, by his own power." 
 This, however, is but a striking mode of pointing out 
 their great originality; for in another place he assumes 
 that, had the art of painting been unknown, Rem- 
 brandt would have discovered it ; thus making him a 
 legislator in Art ; and this he must have felt also to 
 be true of Rubens, as it is of every painter so original. 
 
 But there is another ground for the notion that 
 genius is often lawless. There is an order of minds — 
 and many great ones have belonged to it — liable to be 
 led by imagination into occasional exaggeration ; and, 
 as the generality of critics are blind to every excellence 
 that is out of the beaten track, genius, in its extravagance, 
 appears to the generality as setting all law at defiance. 
 
 The difference, however, between the eccentricities 
 of great, and those of inferior painters is, that the first 
 have always a perceptible foundation in Nature, and 
 are often closely allied to her highest beauties ; while 
 the last are the result merely of inability to perceive 
 the truth, joined to the wish to attract notice. It may 
 be said that exaggeration is least of all excusable in 
 genius ; and, admitting this, I do but contend that the 
 wildest extremes of genius are more tolerable than the 
 extremes by which vulgar minds seek to make them- 
 selves conspicuous. 
 
 Those who are best acquainted with Nature are 
 always the most ready to tolerate the faults of great 
 masters. And this will account for cases in which the 
 opinions of the best artists are at issue with those of 
 
LAWS AND RULES 
 
 41 
 
 the public. It requires a close and long acquaintance 
 with Art to penetrate through the disguise of exaggera- 
 tion to natural principles, and also, in some cases, an 
 acquaintance with what may be called the handwriting 
 of great painters, fully to decipher their meaning. 
 Not but that such peculiarities of execution as are 
 intelligible only to the initiated are always defects ; 
 and, . conceding this, a true critic may see, in the 
 caprices of genius, though the public cannot, that 
 
 " the light that led astray 
 
 Was light from Heaven." 
 
 I conceive there are no absolute laws in Art but 
 those that are traceable to the laws of Nature ; while 
 by the rules of Art I understand the many forms or 
 modes that have accumulated in the practice of schools, 
 and which, however occasionally valuable, are far from 
 requiring invariable obedience. " There are," says 
 Reynolds, " some rules, whose absolute authority, like 
 those of our nurses, continues no longer than while 
 we are in a state of childhood. One of the first rules, 
 for instance, that I believe every master would give to 
 a young pupil respecting his conduct and manage- 
 ment of light and shadow, would be what Leonardo 
 da Vinci has actually given, — that you must oppose a 
 light ground to the shadowed side of your figure, and 
 a dark ground to the light side. If Leonardo had 
 lived to see the superior splendour and effect which 
 has been since produced by exactly the contrary con- 
 duct, — by joining light to light, and shadow to shadow, 
 —though without doubt he would have admired it, 
 yet, as it ought not, ^o, probably, it would not be the 
 first rule with which he would have begun his instruc- 
 
42 ON THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN 
 
 tions." Now a very little observation of Nature will 
 show us that, in her combinations, lights with lights- 
 and shades with shades are often united, and as often 
 opposed. Neither principles are, therefore, laws, but 
 merely methods of producing effect that are eligible or 
 otherwise as it may happen ; and there seems to me 
 no good reason why the one should not be pointed out 
 to the student at as early a period of his practice as 
 the other. 
 
 The question, also debated by the French Academy, 
 to which Sir Joshua alludes in his fourth discourse, 
 whether Paul Veronese was right or wrong, in his 
 picture of Perseus and Andromeda, in representing the 
 principal figure in shade, was a question merely about 
 the violation of a rule, in m_ost cases, perhaps, the best 
 rule, but in no case a law. 
 
 In the picture that gave rise to the discussion, the 
 figure of Andromeda, shaded by the rock to which she 
 is chained, is opposed to a bright sky which makes her 
 as much the principal object as if she were in the fullest 
 light ; and the debate of the Academicians is exactly 
 that kind of nonsense exposed in the admirable ridicule 
 of the cant of criticism by Sterne ; which is directed 
 against the want of judgment and feeling with which 
 forms and precedents are often insisted on as laws. 
 Sterne himself deviated from the usual mode of writing, 
 but he did not deviate from Nature ; and, as his mode 
 suited his own peculiar humour, we may infer that 
 he would not have written so naturally in any other. 
 
 A well-known rule, and one rarely departed from, 
 requires that in a composition of more than two or 
 three figures, one or more should present their backs 
 
LA WS AND RULES 
 
 43 
 
 to the spectator, to avoid a theatrical or artificial look. 
 Yet Leonardo da Vinci, in his great work, has entirely 
 disregarded this rule, although peculiarly applicable to 
 a subject consisting of a number of persons sitting at 
 a table. He no doubt felt it to be of far greater 
 consequence, at the point of time he has chosen, that 
 the expression of every face in the picture should be 
 seen ; and who, I would ask, would lose one of those 
 variously-animated countenances for somewhat more 
 of probability in the general arrangement? The 
 subject has been treated by Giotto, by Raphael, more 
 than once, and it has been painted by Titian, by 
 Nicolo Poussin, and other masters of less note, and I 
 believe all have introduced back figures, and in many 
 instances their arrangements are more picturesque. 
 Yet not one, not even Raphael, has interested us in 
 the story like Leonardo. 
 
 Another and a very different subject may be men- 
 tioned — a work of Watteau,^ in which all the ordinary 
 rules of contrast are departed from, with a result as 
 charming and as natural as it is novel. Two pretty 
 little girls, bearing a twin-like resemblance, seem, from 
 the difference of their sizes, not to have been twins ; 
 and it was no doubt the object of the painter to show, 
 as distinctly as possible, their remarkable likeness to 
 each other ; he therefore placed them side by side, 
 dressed nearly alike, in attitudes as little varied as 
 possible, their faces seen directly in front, and with the 
 same light and shadow. Indeed all the usual contrasts 
 
 1 In the collection of Mr. Munro. It is the only picture by 
 Watteau that I have seen in which the figures are of the size of 
 life. 
 
44 ON THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN 
 
 of composition, expression, colour, and chiaroscuro are 
 disregarded ; yet the picture has not in the shghtest 
 degree any of that pedantic formaUty that so often 
 affects to pass itself for simplicity. Here the simplicity 
 is real ; and though Watteau seems not to have thought 
 of the Art or its rules, yet so consummate an artist 
 was he, that this production is not less legitimate than 
 any other of his works, while it is one of the most 
 original pictures in the world ; and I do not envy the 
 feelings of those critics who, after admitting that it is 
 an extremely pretty picture, would dismiss it with the 
 cold remark that it is only portrait. 
 
 Watteau may possibly have been painting these 
 little girls at the very time in which the members of 
 the French Academy were proving Paul Veronese to be 
 wrong in throwing a broad shadow over his Andro- 
 meda.^ It is such trifling that has brought on 
 Academies the reproach of a tendency to hinder 
 rather than promote the advance of the Art, and such 
 a spirit of criticism that made Constable say, " Never 
 mind the dogmas of the schools, but get at the heart 
 as you can." 
 
 Dr. Johnson said to Miss Burney, " There are three 
 distinct kinds of judges upon all new authors or pro- 
 ductions : the first are those who know no rules, but 
 pronounce entirely from their natural taste or feeUngs : 
 the second are tliose who know and judge by rules ; 
 
 1 Sir Ed nund Head, in his Handbook of the Spanish and 
 French Schools," quotes, from Diderot, a very amusing account 
 of the admission of Greuze into the French Academy, in which 
 additional light is thrown on the notions then entertained by 
 that body. 
 
LAIVS AND RULES 
 
 45 
 
 and the third are those who know, but are above the 
 rules. These last are those you should wish to satisfy. 
 Next to them rate the natural judges ; but ever despise 
 those opinions that are formed by rules." What Dr. 
 Johnson here meant by rules may be gathered from 
 his preface to Shakspeare, and particularly from those 
 passages in which he defends the violation, by the 
 great dramatist, of the unities of time and place, and 
 his unclassical mixture of comedy with tragedy. Of 
 Shakspeare's attention to the laws of Nature he thus 
 speaks : — " He was an exact surveyor of the inanimate 
 world ; his descriptions have always some peculiarities 
 gathered by contemplating things as they really exist. 
 . . . . Whether life or nature be his subject, he 
 shows plainly that he has seen with his own eyes ; 
 he gives the image which he receives, not weakened 
 or distorted by the intervention of any other mind. 
 The ignorant feel his representations to be just, 
 and the learned see that they are complete." Thus 
 he vindicates Shakspeare's faithful observance of the 
 laws, while he fully justifies the wisdom of his 
 dispensing with some of the established rules of 
 dramatic Art. 
 
 It is the unfailing mark of a superior mind that, 
 without contemning forms, it knows exactly when to 
 break through them in obedience to great principles ; 
 and the occasions have been frequent enough in which 
 such minds have encountered obloquy from the for- 
 malists of the world for the best actions. Every one's 
 recollection will suggest instances of this, and some 
 that it might be irreverent here to mention : but to 
 take a trifling one, the story of the king (Louis XIV. 
 
46 ON THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN 
 
 I believe) and the gentleman who stepped into the 
 carriage before him, rather than keep his majesty wait- 
 ing through ceremony, is as good an illustration of the 
 sacrifice of a form to a principle as the most lofty example. 
 
 The prosperity of Art can only be promoted by the 
 strictest observance of its laws and the proper use of 
 its rules, — the first tested by the principles which are 
 unalterable in Nature, the last by their admission of 
 exceptions. The former are comparatively few and 
 simple, while the name of the latter is legion, being 
 accumulated from the varieties of practice of many 
 artists; and students are therefore constantly per- 
 plexed by the various dogmas, often indeed con- 
 tradictory, or apparently so, that are advanced by 
 those of their companions who are a little before 
 them. 'No doubt many valuable things are thus 
 learned; but the great difficulty, at first, is to dis- 
 tinguish between the precepts that are founded in 
 truth and the many that are merely empiricah I 
 have known modest genius in early life defer to 
 plausible but inferior minds, and submit to trammels 
 that have affected, in some degree disadvantageously, 
 the practice of an entire life. 
 
 There is, I believe, a good deal of what may be 
 called honest quackery among painters ; quackery, I 
 mean, which those who practise it mistake for sound 
 doctrine. One safeguard against this is, to beware of 
 all rules that promise an easy acquirement of the Art, 
 and to mistrust our own dexterity when we find it 
 saving us the labour of thought. In the first discourse 
 of Reynolds are some excellent remarks on that 
 specious facility so often injurious to the young artist, 
 
LA WS AND RULES 
 
 47 
 
 and the assurance from him that "there is no easy 
 way of becoming a good painter," — from him, who 
 had mastered with such apparent ease so many of the 
 greatest difficulties, — should never be forgotten. 
 
 As it is impossible to enumerate the rules that 
 abound in books, or that are given out in the con- 
 versation of painters, I will point to some instances 
 of how far well-known rules are of authority, that may 
 assist the student in judging of others when he may 
 for the first time hear them. The leading principle 
 of composition that applies equally to form, to colour, 
 and to light and shade — the principle, namely, of 
 subordination by which one mass is always the largest 
 and no two exactly equal, or, as West used to express 
 it, "struggling with each other," — is assuredly not a 
 conventional principle, but founded entirely on natural 
 law. With respect to forms, perspective is the chief 
 agent of subordination, as it is often with respect to 
 masses of colour, of fight and shade ; and, where it is 
 not, the principles of the reflection, the transmission, 
 and the interruptions of light, produce gradation, which 
 is subordination. 
 
 This principle is therefore an invariable one ; and 
 from which, I will venture to say, no departure can be 
 found in the works of any great master after the matu- 
 rity of painting. But it must be remarked that, though 
 the laws of Nature have been best obeyed by the best 
 artists, the principles resulting from them are not always 
 ostentatiously conspicuous in their works; and, indeed, 
 Art is always the more perfect in the degree in which 
 its impression is made by means that do not court 
 notice. Wilkie remarks that he stood before the 
 
48 ON THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN 
 
 " Peter Martyr " of Titian, and found it not easy to 
 ascertain which was the predominant light of the 
 picture; and the same difficulty may be felt before 
 other works of the greatest masters, where, however, 
 the subtilty with which the principle is concealed is 
 rather an excellence than a defect. Had Wilkie said 
 that the " Peter Martyr " wanted breadth, or that its 
 chiaroscuro distracted or perplexed the eye, this would 
 have been saying that the natural laws of subordina- 
 tion, as they regard light and shade, were violated. 
 I am only acquainted with this great work from 
 copies ; but from these, and from all I have read and 
 heard of it, I cannot doubt but that it is, in every re- 
 spect, one of the most perfect pictures in the world, 
 as well as one of the grandest. 
 
 An objection has been made to Raphael's " Dispute 
 of the Sacrament " like Wilkie's doubt as to the pre- 
 dominant light in the " Peter Martyr." Dr. Kugler, 
 who does not find fault with the entire separation of 
 the two portions of this great work, thinks that 
 "neither predominates by its mass; that neither, 
 properly speaking, is the principle." But here, as in 
 the " Peter Martyr," though the two great masses are 
 nearly equal in quantity, their forms are dissimilar, and 
 the upper portion is unquestionably, as it should be, 
 the principle. Of the remark of Fuseli, that the pic- 
 ture is "cut sheer asunder," I shall have something 
 to say in another place. 
 
 West, in his later practice, followed a rule in the 
 arrangement of his colours founded on the order of 
 colours in the rainbow. But I remember that in his 
 house I saw a smalU^copy, by himself, of the "Peter 
 
LAIVS AND RULES 
 
 49 
 
 Martyr," in which I observed that the colours were 
 placed contrary to their disposition in the rainbow ; 
 the largest quantity of blue, namely, in the sky, being 
 on the side on which the light enters. I noticed this 
 to him, and he said, " Titian had so fine an eye that 
 he could produce harmony by any arrangement " — a 
 reply which places all theories that make harmony de- 
 pendent on any one system of composition, in the 
 category of mere forms or modes, and not of laws. 
 
 Fifty years ago amateur and drawing-school practice 
 was beset with rules, at many of which a painter of the 
 present day would smile, and some of these were even 
 countenanced by Reynolds. In what was considered 
 the higher and more poetic style of landscape, accidents 
 (as they were called), for instance partial gleams of 
 sunshine, were forbidden ; and Sir Joshua considered 
 that Claude omitted such effects on principle. But I 
 believe that where Claude has not availed himself of 
 such beauties of effect, he was guided by no other 
 principle than his feeling, that the sentiment of the 
 picture did not require, and would be disturbed by 
 them; for it is not conceivable that he considered 
 any of the accidental appearances of Nature unworthy 
 of the highest class of Art, if judiciously introduced. 
 
 Then there were Sir George Beaumont's rules, that 
 in every landscape there should be at least one brown 
 tree ; and that every picture should have a first, second, 
 and third light. " I see," he said, looking at a picture 
 by Constable, " your first and your second lights, but 
 I can't make out which is your third." Constable told 
 this to Turner, who said, "You should have asked him 
 how many lights Rubens introduced." 
 
 E 
 
SECTION IV 
 
 On Classification 
 
 Charles Lamb, in his "Essay on Hogarth,"^ notices 
 " that rage for classification, by which," as he says, "in 
 matters of taste at least, we are perpetually perplexing 
 instead of arranging our ideas." For my own part, I 
 have long since been accustomed to disregard classi- 
 fication in Art, according to subject; and, as in 
 Sancho Panza's story, wherever the great man sat was 
 the head of the table, so — when I stand before that 
 which impresses me as the work of a truly great painter, 
 it belongs for the time being (in my mind) to the 
 highest class of Art, let the subject be what it will. I 
 say for the time betJig^ — for I always recur to Michael 
 Angelo and Raphael as the greatest of painters ; not 
 because they painted the most sublime subjects, — for 
 hundreds who are now as nothing have done the same, 
 — but because they brought the loftiest minds to 
 whatever subject they treated. 
 
 The Art of every painter is modified by his feelings 
 as much as by his intellect. Michael Angelo and 
 Raphael lived in the most splendid, and at the same 
 time the most corrupt, age of modern Rome. The 
 
 1 The best ever written ; though it is to be regretted that, in 
 praising Hogarth, he thought fit to disparage Reynolds. 
 
ON CLASSIFICATION 
 
 51 
 
 temperament of Michael Angelo disposed him to soli- 
 tude ; he knew and despised the world about him, and 
 lived apart from it. But there was nothing cynical or 
 morose in the character of this great man. He was 
 warm-hearted, steady in his friendships, and sincerely 
 religious in an age, as Roscoe well calls it, "of 
 practical atheism." His attachment to his servant, 
 Urbino, whom he waited on and nursed in his last 
 illness, though he was then 82 years of age, is one 
 among many proofs of the goodness and warmth of his 
 heart ; and the sincerity of his religion is not only seen 
 in his sonnets, but confirmed by the fact, that, for the 
 last seventeen years of his life, he devoted himself to 
 the building of St. Peter's, entirely as a work of piety, 
 refusing to receive any payment for his services. 
 
 Raphael, raised also above the world by every 
 generous and noble feeling, yet lived in the midst of 
 it, respected and beloved by all whose respect and 
 love were worth the having. " He had always," says 
 Lanzi, " possessed the power of engaging the affections 
 of all with whom he was acquainted. Respectful to 
 his master, he obtained from the Pope an assurance 
 that his works on the ceiling of the Vatican should 
 remain unmolested; — ^just towards his rivals, he ex- 
 pressed his gratitude to God that he had been born in 
 the days of Michael Angelo ; — gracious towards his 
 pupils, he loved them, and entrusted them as his sons ; 
 — courteous to strangers, he cheerfully lent his aid to 
 all who asked his advice; — and in order to make 
 designs for others, or to direct them in their studies, he 
 sometimes even neglected his own work — being alike 
 incapable of refusing or delaying his inestimable aid." 
 
52 ON CLASSIFICATION 
 
 Such were these wonderful men, alike in their 
 greatness, yet with so much of difference in tempera- 
 ment, that they could not but affect us differently by 
 their works. "We stand with awe before Michael 
 Angelo," says Fuseli, " and tremble at the height to 
 which he elevates us, — we embrace Raphael and 
 follow him whithersoever he chooses to lead us." But 
 I shall reserve, for the present, what I have further to 
 say of them. I have merely noticed the resemblance 
 and difference of their natures, as accounting for the 
 resemblance and difference of their Art. 
 
 When Sterne's critic speaks of the " Correggeisity of 
 Correggio,'' the absurdity is in the sound and by no 
 means in the sense ; for such words as Raphaelesque, 
 Titianesque, and Michael Angelesque are naturalised 
 and indispensable to the language of criticism ; — nor 
 do I hesitate to say that every painter, — good — bad 
 — and indifferent, — equally expresses his own nature 
 in his Art ; for the most exact, the most servile imi- 
 tator, in the endeavour to appropriate to himself the 
 mind of another, displays the poverty of his own. 
 
 This influence is what the Germans call the sub- 
 jective element, an element that leads to all that is 
 most valuable in the imitation of Nature, or to all 
 that is the reverse. 
 
 It may be said that among painters, and great 
 ones, the minds of some are often not easily distin- 
 guishable, as in the cases of Giorgione and Titian. 
 I am not sufficiently acquainted with the works of 
 Giorgione or the early style of Titian to pronounce 
 with certainty what I believe to be true, that an in- 
 timate knowledge would enable a competent judge 
 
ON CLASSIFICATION 
 
 53 
 
 to distinguish between them in every case. It must 
 be remembered that Giorgione died young, and there 
 are instances of artists, contemporaries, who, up to 
 the time of Hfe at which he and Titian were separated, 
 as closely resembled each other, but who afterwards 
 displayed a marked difference of character. There 
 are pictures by Rubens and by Vandyke, which may 
 readily be mistaken for the work of either, yet how 
 diverse do the powers of their minds appear when 
 the products of the life of each are compared. Paul 
 Veronese painted a " Nativity,'' in evident close imi- 
 tation of the Bassans, — of whose style he was so 
 great an admirer, that he placed his son as a pupil 
 with Giacomo ; yet the gentility of Paulo is apparent 
 through the disguise ; and I have seen skilful imita- 
 tions by David Teniers of different masters, but in 
 which he is always discoverable. 
 
 A resemblance in the styles of painters of very 
 different minds is the result of another influence, that 
 of the country and the age to which they belong. 
 But the Art is a tell-tale, and no painter can effectu- 
 ally conceal himself in it from those who understand 
 its language; and of all the qualities of the mind, 
 there is nothing more sure to be betrayed by the 
 pencil than innate vulgarity, — no matter with how 
 high an aim, or with how much of learning or of 
 technical power it endeavours to pass for what is 
 lofty. On the other hand, a mind is sometimes dis- 
 covered by the Art, alone, to be superior to any pre- 
 judgment that might be formed from our knowledge 
 of the education or personal habits of the individual. 
 
 Of this, I know not a more remarkable instance 
 
54 ON CLASSIFICATION 
 
 than Morland, whose works display a natural refine- 
 ment of taste which, as in the best Dutch Art, is the 
 more striking from the homely character of his sub- 
 jects. When we look at his pictures, we must con- 
 clude that the dissolute habits, which in the prime of 
 life destroyed this extraordinary man, were in great 
 part to be attributed to the denial of all education to 
 him, excepting in Art, by a sordid father ; and which 
 greatly increased, if it did not produce, that shyness 
 of manner which drove him from decent society to 
 the alehouse and the stable ; while it left him unfur- 
 nished with any resources of relaxation excepting in 
 low indulgence. But whatever were the failings of 
 Morland, and however to be accounted for, there is 
 no vulgarity in his Art. He is always homely, often 
 slight to a fault, and it is said he was employed by a 
 patron to paint a series of immoral pictures; — yet 
 such is the refinement of his colour, and his true 
 feeling for the simplicity of Nature, that his best 
 works will always sustain companionship with those 
 of Gainsborough, which can be said of no painter in 
 the least degree vulgar. Vulgarity, as Lord Byron 
 has clearly shown, and I think he was the first to 
 point out the distinction, is a very different thing 
 from coarseness. "Fielding,*' as he says, "is often 
 coarse, but never vulgar ; " and the same may be said 
 of Hogarth, of Jan Steen, and indeed of all the best 
 Dutch and Flemish painters. 
 
 The essence of vulgarity is pretension; and it, 
 therefore, generally aspires to the high places of Art, 
 where it shows itself in every species of false senti- 
 ment. It greatly affects the superfine, — it produces 
 
ON CLASSIFICATION 
 
 55 
 
 the mock heroic, — and all the numerous mistakes of 
 the exaggerated for the grand and the poetic. 
 
 The vulgarity of pretension is often apparent in 
 the modern treatment of religious subjects ; but the 
 most remarkable subversion of the Art by vulgarity, 
 for it was vulgarity mixed with the highest refine- 
 ments of vice, occurred in France in the reign of 
 Louis the Fifteenth. It began, indeed, under that of 
 his predecessor, a monarch who fancied he showed 
 his taste by ordering the works of Teniers out of his 
 rooms. It was natural that the Court from which 
 such sterling Art was banished should be the one 
 from which Nicolo Poussin chose to banish himself. 
 But the sovereign found a painter to his mind in 
 Lebrun, a man of great ability, but essentially 
 commonplace, though showy and pompous. The 
 style of Lebrun reigned supreme under royal patron- 
 age, and met with a host of imitators, until, still fol- 
 lowing the court fashions, French Art degenerated 
 into that utter vulgarity which characterised it in the 
 reign of Louis the Fifteenth, under a surface of the 
 amiable, the genteel, and what passed for the grace- 
 ful. The exquisite taste of Watteau was, as might be 
 expected, cast into the shade in this age of general 
 corruption. But for his subjects he would have been 
 as much out of place in France as Nicolo Poussin 
 felt himself to be. He contrived, however, to unite 
 the Opera with Nature (no easy task), and he there- 
 fore painted what fell in with the taste of the times, 
 — and yet has remained the delight of succeeding 
 ages. The merits of Watteau, indeed, are such as 
 almost to cover the multitude of sins, in Art, of the 
 
56 ON CLASSIFICA TION 
 
 times in which he Uved,— and this is saying much. 
 There exist always Lebruns, Coypels, Bouchers, 
 Rigauds, and Lancrets, and many of them, though 
 not always detected under the disguises of the time ; 
 while such painters as Poussin and Watteau are 
 ever rare, and often in danger of being jostled aside 
 by their more successful, though inferior, rivals. 
 
 I must remark that there is always a correspond- 
 ence in the taste for colour and chiaroscuro and the 
 taste in all the other elements of Painting. Thus, 
 in these qualities, if Poussin is unequal, he is, in his 
 best works, far above Lebrun, — and of Watteau, I 
 need not say that in these, as well as in all technical 
 skill, he is transcendent ; and when we consider the 
 difficulty that even genius finds in withstanding the 
 influence of fashion, it is wonderful that he should 
 have achieved what he did in the atmosphere in 
 which he lived ; and through which he shines like a 
 diamond surrounded by counterfeit gems. 
 
 The objective^ according to the German classifica- 
 tion, includes all that relates to the subject of the 
 picture uninfluenced by the mind of the painter. But, 
 strictly speaking, there can be no such thing ; there 
 can only be an approach to such an element, and the 
 results of photography have been instanced as the 
 nearest parallel to objective Art. Yet even these are 
 not wholly objective, being always modified by peculi- 
 arities of taste. Points of view and points of distance, 
 and effects of light and of shadow, are selected, with 
 more or less judgment, in landscape and architecture ; 
 and in portrait there is the same exercise of taste, in 
 the choice of attitude, grouping, casting of drapery, etc. 
 
ON CLASSIFICATION 
 
 57 
 
 Properly speaking, it is Nature herself only that is 
 objective or the object of Art ; while all that is ideal 
 or poetic, as well as all that is mannered, mean, low, 
 false, or vicious in painting, is subjective. 
 
 The Art of Caravaggio and of Rembrandt may 
 seem to be peculiarly subjective, and yet no painter 
 was ever more objective than the first, in his pictures 
 of gamblers, fortune-tellers, etc. ; nor than Rembrandt 
 in his portraits, a very large and important (by some 
 critics thought the most important) portion of his 
 works. Fuseli has been mentioned as a painter in 
 whom the subjective tendency was entirely paramount ; 
 and yet his ghosts and demons are, to the imagination, 
 more truly ghosts and demons than those of any 
 other painter ; and if an artist is to be ranked accord- 
 ing to that in which he best succeeds, Fuseli should 
 be classed with objective painters. Even Blake, a 
 more extreme instance of a very singular mind, was 
 convinced that he saw the illustrious dead, as well as 
 angels and demons, of whom he drew exact portraits, 
 and indeed most if not all of the productions of Blake, 
 were believed by himself, at least, to be strictly objec- 
 tive. I confess, therefore, I do not see how painters 
 are to be classed according to either of these tenden- 
 cies ; for if I am right in considering all Art as equally 
 subjective, though (apparently) that of certain painters 
 may be more so than that of others, it must happen 
 that where the subject of the picture is entirely con- 
 genial with the mind of the artist, the result will com- 
 bine, in perfect equality, both elements, and such are 
 the instances in which every great master is best seen. 
 
 Nothing is more often on the lips of those who 
 
58 ON CLASSIFICATION 
 
 feel and know least of the qualities of which Painting 
 is made than "High Art," — and the result of more 
 than forty years' observation has convinced me, that 
 nothing has contributed more to retard the advance- 
 ment of Painting than the well-meant, but often 
 thoughtless and mistaken talk about what passes for 
 it, both in England and on the Continent. 
 
 The commonplace notion of High Art contributed 
 with other mental causes to the life of misery of the 
 highly-gifted Haydon, as it had previously prevented 
 the proper exercise of Barry's superior powers ; and 
 many were the junior artists, who, with this ignis 
 fatuus before their eyes, wasted time, and probably 
 talents that might otherwise have been productive, 
 upon large Cartoons for Westminster Hall. Indeed, 
 many English painters have passed through lives of 
 privation, consoled only with the belief that they were 
 practising " High Art " in evil days, who might have 
 been prosperous men in some other profession. 
 
 Englishmen are constantly told by foreigners, and 
 are constantly telling themselves, that High Art has 
 never existed in England. True it is, there has been 
 no British Michael Angelo, or Raphael, any more than 
 there have been painters approaching to them in the 
 modern schools of Italy, France, Germany, or Holland. 
 But the Art of Hogarth, of Reynolds, of Gainsborough, 
 of Wilson, of Fuseli, of Opie, Stothard, Turner, Con- 
 stable, W'.lkie, and of Etty, and the Art displayed in 
 Haydon's " Judgment of Solomon," ^ — what are we to 
 
 1 Had such a picture been produced in France, it would have 
 been placed in the Louvre immediately on the death of the painter. 
 
ON CLASSIFICATION 
 
 59 
 
 call it ? — I care not what, but I will say that, out of 
 Great Britain, nothing so high has been produced 
 since the death of Watteau ; whose Art, distinct from 
 its subject, is of the highest order. 
 
 Latterly, the term " High " has generally been ex- 
 changed for " Religious," which means Art of which 
 the subjects are from the Bible or the legends of the 
 Church. I should make no objection to the defini- 
 tion as a matter of convenience, and if understood no 
 otherwise than of Art of which the theme is religious. 
 But, I fear, it is too much received, and intended 
 as defining a style necessarily differing from other 
 styles. 
 
 It is clear to me, that had any of the early Christian 
 painters descended to subjects of familiar life, their 
 treatment would not, in principle or in execution, 
 have differed from that in their religious pictures, 
 for in their portraits it did not. I think, therefore, 
 that the attaching of more importance than they 
 deserve, to such definitions as religious Art^ and reli- 
 gious painters^ is calculated to blind us to many of the 
 beauties of Nature, and to lead us to suppose that 
 because, by the early masters, some of her grandest 
 and most charming qualities were unperceived, they 
 are inconsistent with religious feeling ; and that there 
 
 But the Trustees of our National Gallery missed the opportunity 
 of securing it, for a nominal sum, while they were spending the 
 public money on doubtful, or damaged, or second-rate pictures 
 by the Old Masters. 
 
 Whatever may be the faults of this great work of Haydon, it 
 would sustain itself with credit by the side of Rubens and his 
 faults ; and it will be disgraceful to the country, if it does not 
 ultimately find a resting-place in the National Gallery. 
 
6o 
 
 ON CLASSIFICATION 
 
 must be a marked difference between religious men, 
 women, and children, and the rest of the world ; and 
 that even skies, trees, fields, rivers, and mountains 
 may become religious and therefore sublime, by their 
 unlikeness to Nature.^ Severe is a word sometimes 
 used, and I have heard also of keroic landscape. Such 
 classifications are calculated to mislead the young, 
 while they may be easily taken advantage of by the 
 indolent and cunning, who, with little study or 
 thought, may at once put themselves forward as re- 
 ligious painters, by some mannered deviation from 
 Nature. 
 
 The tendency of modern classification is levelling. 
 It places inferior excellence, if not in the same rank 
 with the highest order of genius, yet so near it as 
 greatly to mislead the student. There are critics who 
 seem tired of hearing Raphael called " the Just," and 
 who would give to Perugino, Francia, Masaccio, and 
 others of the early Italians, a much larger share of his 
 honours than is properly due to them. It matters 
 little whether we consider the difference between him 
 and them as a difference of kind or of degree ; for if 
 it be only the last, it is certainly as wide a difference, 
 and of as many degrees, as that which separates 
 Shakspeare from all preceding and all succeeding 
 dramatists. The painters I have mentioned no doubt 
 resemble Raphael in many of the outward forms of 
 Art, and his master, Perugino, may, as I have been 
 
 1 I have heard the singular little forms meant for clouds be- 
 hind the heads of the Madonna and Saints of Francia, in the 
 National Gallery, commended, because it seems impossible they 
 could be affected by storms ! — which is very true. 
 
ON CLASSIFICATION 
 
 6i 
 
 told he does, often surpass him in colour. But where 
 have they given any evidence of that knowledge of 
 human nature, or of that power of expressing the 
 characters and the passions of men, that so justly en- 
 titles Raphael to be called, as Fuseli calls him, " the 
 painter of mankind " ? 
 
 Take, for instance, the greatest of them, Mas- 
 accio. The subject of one of the most important 
 of his works, said to be his last, is the resuscitation of 
 a boy, a supposed miracle of St. Peter and St. Paul. 
 The composition has all that natural simplicity so 
 characteristic of the painter. But the incident, the 
 most extraordinary that can be conceived, produces 
 no effect on the people who witness it; and they 
 stand by as unmoved, with the exception of a little 
 girl (who clasps her hands), as if a restoration from 
 death to life were a matter of no interest, and of 
 every-day occurrence. And this is the work of a 
 painter, who, though no critic would place him on a 
 level with Raphael, yet, according to established classi- 
 fication, must rank, as a master of High Art^ with 
 the author of the frescoes of the Vatican, and the 
 cartoons at Hampton Court. For my own part, I feel 
 that it would be more just, and would enable us to 
 understand the true scope of Art better, to class 
 Ostade with Raphael. I say nothing of Rembrandt, 
 because I consider his Art to be of a much higher 
 order than that of any Italian, excepting only Leonardo 
 da Vinci, Michael Angelo, Raphael, and the greatest 
 of the Venetian painters. 
 
 As I do not think such painters as Masaccio, Peru- 
 gino, Francia, and many others of their rank, are to 
 
62 
 
 ON CLASSIFICATION 
 
 be placed in the same category with the greatest 
 masters, so neither do I think that such later Italians 
 as Carlo Dolci, Carlo Marratti, etc., deserve by any 
 means to rank with them. And yet the Art of these 
 last, if classed according to subject, is High Art; 
 while, in truth, there is not much deserving the name 
 of Painting that can well be lower. 
 
SECTION V 
 
 On Self-Teaching 
 
 Fashion is the substitute for taste, with which it 
 sometimes coincides. Articles of dress and furniture 
 may be elegant and yet fashionable, and a poet or a 
 painter may be great, and, at the same time, noticed 
 by what is called the great world. Reynolds was 
 twice in fashion, and Burns was the lion of a season 
 in Edinburgh ; but such instances are chances, not 
 invariable results. The constant craving of fashion is 
 for the new and the wonderful, and nothing brings a 
 young artist more suddenly into notice than a report 
 of his being entirely self-taught. 
 
 Those who know little of the history of Painting, 
 generally understand these words literally, " in which 
 sense," said Constable, "a self-taught painter is one 
 taught by a very ignorant person^ There can, in truth, 
 be no such prodigy in Europe, nor, indeed, in any 
 part of the world, where painting even in its most 
 primitive stages exists. Opie, who was himself be- 
 lieved to be a wonder of this kind, places in a strong 
 light the insignificance of the power to be attained 
 without precept or example. " On such a hypothesis,'' 
 he says, " it would be the height of absurdity to speak 
 of the progress or cultivation of Art ; the coming of 
 
64 ON SELF- TEA CHING 
 
 a poet or a painter would be altogether accidental or 
 providential, and the greatest artist might as probably 
 have been Adam, or the first man that ever saw a 
 pencil, as Apelles or Raphael, though born under the 
 most favourable circumstances, when the Art was in 
 its zenith. Nor ought we to have been more sur- 
 prised, had Captain Cook found a Rubens carrying 
 painting to perfection in Otaheite, than our ancestors 
 were at seeing one doing the same thing in Flanders." 
 
 The young painter who, in the present day, should 
 appear with any degree of ability, and yet deny his 
 obligations to previous or contemporary Painters, 
 would assuredly " say the thing that is not ; " for no 
 one can by any accident have been isolated from 
 pictures or engravings, and yet have acquired the 
 power of producing anything deserving the name of 
 a picture. 
 
 Opie, as I have remarked, was supposed to be a 
 self-taught artist ; and as he had as much claim to be 
 so considered as any painter that ever lived, some 
 attention to the particulars of his early life may help 
 us to understand in what self-education really consists. 
 
 He was born in 1761 at the village of St. Agnes, 
 about seven miles from the town of Truro, in Corn- 
 wall, where we may suppose there was very little of Art 
 to be seen. He did, however, see, when very young 
 a schoolfellow draw a butterfly, and said he thought 
 he could draw a butterfly as well as Mark Gates. 
 
 At an early age he was employed as an errand-boy 
 by Dr. Wolcot, who, whatever were his faults, was a 
 man of sound taste. But Wolcot was not the first to 
 discover the genius of his errand-boy ; for the extra- 
 
ON SELF- TEA CHING 
 
 65 
 
 ordinary powers of his mind were disclosed to all about 
 him from a very early period. At the age of twelve 
 he had mastered Euclid, and become the teacher of 
 an evening school. 
 
 There can be no doubt, however, that Wolcot was 
 Opie's first instructor in Art, and that he, who was 
 very far from an incompetent teacher himself, directed 
 him to a much higher source, the works of Reynolds. 
 Wolcot had lived some years in London, and his love 
 of painting had brought him acquainted with the 
 principal artists. How truly he felt the excellence of 
 Reynolds, Gainsborough, and Wilson, and at a time 
 when their reputations were far from being so securely 
 established as they now are, his writings show. He 
 probably had opportunities of intercourse with them 
 all. I know that he possessed a fine picture by Sir 
 Joshua, the " Sleeping Girl," now in the collection of 
 Mr. Rogers. Beside this, he had some copies from 
 Reynolds, and no doubt most of the prints from his 
 best works. Some of these, we may believe, were on 
 his walls, or in his folio at Truro, when the connection 
 between him and Opie commenced. From Wolcot, 
 or in his house, he could easily acquire a sufficient 
 knowledge of anatomy, with which his works show 
 him not to be unacquainted. The only knowledge 
 important to a painter of which he was ignorant when 
 he came to London, was a knowledge of the Antique. 
 His Art, therefore, from the first belonged to the 
 school of the Naturalisti, and so it remained. If 
 Opie came to London a competent artist, and formed, 
 as were all the best painters of the time, very much 
 from the influence of Reynolds, he soon enlarged his 
 
 F 
 
66 ON SELF- TEA CHING 
 
 perceptions from seeing the works of Fuseli, the eva- 
 nescent negative colour of whose best pictures he 
 greatly admired. The influence of Fuseli told on his 
 later practice ; but, on his first arrival in London, he 
 began, as he had done in the country, with portraits ; 
 and there can be no doubt that Wolcot, by his pen, 
 chiefly promoted the sudden notoriety of the " Cor- 
 nish Wonder." 
 
 The street in which he lived was very soon so 
 crowded with the coaches of the nobility that he was 
 considered a nuisance in the neighbourhood. As 
 might be expected, however, from the fickleness of all 
 patronage bestowed on wonders, he was almost as 
 suddenly deserted ; and fortunately for his reputation, 
 for then it was that he was taken by the hand by a 
 truly noble patron of British Art, one indeed whose 
 influence on Painting and Engraving in this country 
 can scarcely be overrated. 
 
 It is said of Alderman Boydell, and I believe with 
 truth, that "he contrived to employ every aspirant to 
 distinction, in these arts, whose energies wanted en- 
 couragement." He was himself an artist, and his 
 love of the profession he chose may be judged of by 
 the fact that, at the age of twenty-one, he walked 
 from Stanton, in Shropshire, to London, against the 
 wishes of his father, to put himself apprentice to an 
 engraver. That by his own exertions he rose to fame 
 and fortune is less his praise than that he very greatly 
 assisted other artists in their rise to eminence ; men, 
 too, whom he helped to surpass himself, in his own 
 profession. The Shakspeare Gallery, though the 
 greatest undertaking of Bo} dell, formed but a portion 
 
ON SELF-TEACHING 
 
 67 
 
 of his patronage of Art. This magnificent scheme 
 was an additional means of employing the best 
 painters of the British school in large and important 
 works at a time when the Church refused to patronise 
 Painting/ and the titled and wealthy of the land, 
 with the single exception of the king, encouraged 
 portrait only. It did much also for Engraving ; and, 
 among other admirable specimens of that Art, we 
 owe to the Shakspeare Gallery, Sharpe's transcendent 
 work from West's "Lear," a work showing that the 
 power of a first-rate engraver, even of other men's 
 designs, does not lie within the scope of mere talent ; 
 but that it is genius^ and of a higher order than that 
 displayed by many a painter, who looks upon en- 
 gravers as artists much below him. 
 
 Boydell built, for the reception of his pictures, the 
 rooms in Pall Mall, now belonging to the British 
 Institution, and employed the greatest sculptor then 
 living to decorate the front. It was his intention to 
 bequeath the building and its contents to the nation. 
 But the outbreak of the French Revolution, by 
 stopping entirely the sale of his prints on the Con- 
 
 1 Northcote, in his very amusing history of "The Slighted 
 Beauty " (Painting), thus contrasts her exclusion from our 
 churches with the favour shown to her Stony-hearted brazen- 
 faced sister " (Sculpture), of whom he says, " She would make 
 no scruple at any time to sap the principal pillars for support, 
 root up the foundation, build up partition walls in the aisles, 
 cover the pavement, etc. . . . One thing, however, must 
 be allowed in favour of this sister, she always spoke well of the 
 dead. Thus, for instance, she would get up in the midst of the 
 church, and, in her own way, make long harangues in various 
 languages, filled with flattery and falsehood, praising the dead 
 to gratify the living." 
 
68 
 
 ON SELF- TEA CHING 
 
 tinent, where it had been extensive, and the war that 
 followed diminishing the demand for them at home, 
 his means were so crippled, that he was unable to 
 fulfil his patriotic wish. 
 
 To the honour of Boydell, it should always be 
 remembered that the project of the Shakspeare 
 Gallery originated in his wish to disprove the opinion 
 held by foreigners, that English artists were incapable 
 of excelling in historic or poetic subjects ; an opinion 
 that had entire possession of the minds of our aristo- 
 cratic and wealthy classes, and which had forced 
 Hogarth to address himself to the public through the 
 medium of engraving. 
 
 When Opie, the plain, blunt, honest man of genius, 
 was deserted by the world of fashion, Boydell en- 
 gaged him in those works on which his fame now 
 rests, the best of which, and one of the greatest works 
 of the British School, is his " Death of David Rizzio," 
 a picture that, instead of being buried in the Council 
 Chamber, at Guildhall, should be seen in the National 
 Gallery. 
 
 His love of Art was intense. It was said of him 
 that, " as other artists painted to live, he lived only to 
 paint." His life, indeed, seems to have been shortened 
 by his industry. Had he worked less hard or been 
 less ambitious to excel, he might now be living. Yet 
 he was modest, and long after the " Death of Rizzio 
 was produced, he would exclaim to his wife, in 
 moments of depression, " I shall never, never make a 
 painter." 
 
 Dissatisfaction with himself, however, no doubt 
 contributed, as will ever be the case with a strong 
 
ON SELF- TEA CHING 
 
 69 
 
 mind, to his excellence ; it is the feeble who are liable 
 to be discouraged into nothingness, while the con- 
 ceited are apt to be elated into the same condition. 
 The occasional despondency of such a man as Opie 
 only rouses him to fresh exertion, and his history is 
 a fair illustration of the true sense in which a great 
 painter is self-taught, a sense, indeed, in which all 
 great painters, men who know what they want, and 
 who know where to look for it, are so. Their best 
 instructors being often those they never saw. 
 
 Michael Angelo was taught the mechanical practice 
 of painting by Ghirlandajo ; but the master who com- 
 pletely awakened his imagination to the grandeur that 
 was to become his distinction, was the unknown 
 sculptor of that "mass of breathing stone" which 
 refuses any other condition than that of a fragment.^ 
 
 Raphael was first the pupil of his father, then of 
 Perugino, but had he stopped where the last left him, 
 instead of seeking further instruction from every 
 source of beauty and truth in Art and Nature that 
 was within his reach, he would never have placed 
 himself where he is, nearer to our hearts than any 
 other painter that ever lived. The true masters of 
 Rubens were Michael Angelo and Titian, and certainly 
 no one was less the master of Reynolds than Hudson, 
 in whose house he was placed as a pupil. 
 
 When Sir Joshua says to the student, " If you have 
 great abilities, industry will improve them," he says 
 well, but it is to be regretted that he also said, " If 
 you have not, industry will supply their place.'' 
 
 1 If Flaxman failed, as he himself thought, in his attempt to 
 restore the Torso, who can hope to succeed? 
 
70 
 
 ON SELF- TEA CHING 
 
 When, however, at another time, he tells us that 
 "nothing is denied to well-directed industry," he 
 gives a comprehensive definition of genius in the 
 last three words; for the industry of all the great 
 painters I have mentioned was directed, as it could 
 only be well directed, by that native mental superiority 
 which the world has agreed to call genius. 
 
SECTION VI 
 
 On Genius^ Imagination^ and Taste 
 
 Genius seems to be a rare co-existence of many facul- 
 ties ; or perhaps it may be more correct to say that 
 the co-existence of many faculties is necessary to its 
 development ; and, as these vary in every individual, 
 the genius of no two has ever been exactly alike. 
 It seems also that the absence, or subordination of 
 some of the intellectual tastes may be serviceable to 
 the exercise of genius ; for Leonardo da Vinci, whose 
 life was a long one, has left fewer specimens than any 
 other painter, of that Art, of which he was so great 
 an ornament, because he was almost a universal 
 genius. 
 
 In connection with Painting it may be useful to 
 consider two qualities, which, if they do not alone 
 constitute genius, are essential to it, — Imagination 
 and Taste. 
 
 Imagination seems to be a power to which in- 
 struction can scarcely reach, and if in any degree 
 amenable to direction, it can only be so through 
 Taste, a faculty that is admitted to be capable of 
 much improvement by cultivation. 
 
 By Taste, in its most perfect condition, I under- 
 stand a result from the union of the best sense with 
 
72 ON GENIUS, 
 
 the most perfect senses, and the truest sensibility. 
 It includes a knowledge and love of the good as well 
 as of the beautiful, for material beauty can never be 
 truly felt but by him who knows also what is moral 
 beauty. Imagination may be considered as the 
 active power of Genius— Taste as the controlling and 
 directing power. It is the temperance which Shak- 
 speare recommended to the actors in their bursts of 
 passion ; but, as he also told them, it is not tameness, 
 — neither is it mere fastidiousness, much less timidity. 
 It will dare everything for a great end, but it never 
 seeks merely to astonish, — nor is it ever presumptuous. 
 It is a power that estimates all things, relatively as 
 well as singly, and therefore it is not exclusive; it 
 objects not to ugliness or deformity, but it assigns to 
 them their proper places. It objects only to false- 
 hood ; and this it detects as readily under the most 
 magnificent disguises as when it affects the most child- 
 like simplicity. 
 
 It would be easy to expatiate on the attributes of 
 Taste until it might be said I had proved that no 
 man had ever possessed it ; which is indeed true of a 
 perfectly just taste ; for, in the noblest works of Art, 
 there exist flaws from the want of it, and which are 
 in a great degree traceable to partial cultivation and 
 the accidents of local position and defective edu- 
 cation. 
 
 I have no hesitation in saying that every artist, 
 whose name has lived, owes his immortality more to 
 the excellence of his taste than to any other single 
 endowment, because it displays all the rest to their 
 fullest advantage ; and without it his mind would be 
 
IMAGINATION, AND TASTE 
 
 73 
 
 imperfectly seen; and if Taste be not the highest 
 gift of the painter, it is, I think, the rarest. 
 
 The lofty imagination of Raphael, the wonderful 
 fertility of his invention, with all his extraordinary 
 dramatic power and his deep knowledge of human 
 nature, would never have made him what he is, had it 
 not been for that indescribable natural urbanity, that 
 true decorum which we can only associate with the 
 purest taste, and which pervades every work of his 
 hand, from his earliest attempts to the grandest of his 
 frescoes. And the decorum of Raphael's mind is 
 shown, not in his avoiding subjects which a less 
 natural man might be afraid of, but in his treatment 
 of every class of subject. 
 
 Compare, for instance, his "Galatea" with the 
 same subject by Annibale Carracci, of which the 
 National Gallery has the cartoon. In academic 
 excellence the work of Annibale is not inferior to 
 that of Raphael; but, without anything of affected 
 prudery, there is a modesty in Raphael's picture, 
 which by contrast would vulgarise works even less 
 gross than that of the Bolognese painter. 
 
 It is Taste only that can settle the difficult question 
 of finish. A young painter, in the midst of a fine 
 collection of pictures, is puzzled by seeing so wide a 
 separation between great masters in the degree of 
 attention they have given to minutiae; but he will 
 learn, as he becomes acquainted with the Art, that 
 all pictures are finished if the intention of the master 
 be fully conveyed ; and that details may be omitted 
 by Velasquez, or introduced by Terburg, and the 
 effect be equally satisfactory, because, whatever the 
 
74 
 
 ON GENIUS, 
 
 one gives or the other leaves out, is given or omitted 
 under the guidance of an exquisite taste. Who, for 
 instance, while standing before the " Boar Hunt " by 
 Velasquez, in our National Gallery, would desire more 
 than he finds in it ; or in looking at the " Blue 
 Boddice " by Terburg, in Her Majesty's Collection, 
 would regret that the finish has been carried so far ? 
 
 In speaking of Taste, hitherto, I have assumed 'the 
 meaning that always accompanies the word when used 
 by itself, — that is, good Taste. But good Taste may 
 be considered as the exception, and bad, or, rather, 
 mixed Taste as the rule. In cold or phlegmatic 
 natures. Taste is satisfied with insipid correctness, 
 hence mediocrity; but ardent temperaments have 
 always strong relishes, and if these are not by Nature 
 or education directed to what is true, their tendency 
 will be to the false and the exaggerated. I need not 
 say that the best and worst tastes have often been 
 united in the same men ; and where great powers of 
 invention and execution are joined to a false but 
 plausible taste, the possessor of them is able to corrupt 
 an age. Indeed, as Art appears to have sometimes 
 risen to a great height at the bidding of a single com- 
 manding mind of rightly -directed powers, it has at 
 other times sunk into corruption by the no less power- 
 ful influence of a single mind possessed of the ability 
 to give to falsehood the appearance of truth. 
 
 Not but that there are always concurring circum- 
 stances in the state of society to facilitate either the 
 ready admission of truth or of falsehood, and these 
 act upon leaders as leaders again act on the multi- 
 tude; and this affords a clue to one cause of the 
 
IMAGINATION, AND TASTE 
 
 75 
 
 irregular progress of Art, — a progress marked, ever 
 since Painting may be said to have reached its 
 maturity, by alternate periods of great vigour with 
 periods of decay, sometimes verging on dissolution. 
 
 It is consolatory to know, however, that in most 
 countries in which Painting has achieved great 
 triumphs, the achievement has not always been for 
 once only, though it is of great importance to notice 
 that different periods of excellence have always been 
 marked by different characters of excellence. 
 
SECTION VII 
 
 On the Ideal ^ and on Beauty of For?n 
 
 If we consider the ideal as comprising all in Painting 
 that is not literal imitation of Nature, we shall include 
 the most mannered as well as the most poetic Art ; 
 for the styles of such painters as Boucher and David 
 are as much below literal imitation as the styles of 
 Michael Angelo and Titian are above it. 
 
 But the ideal, as it relates to beauty of form, is far 
 from being always removed from matter-of-fact ; and 
 it is in representations of the human figure only that 
 a departure from the exact proportions and shape of 
 the individual model becomes necessary. The Elgin 
 horses are the closest possible copies of well -chosen 
 living specimens ; and in all natural forms, excepting 
 of man, it is easy to meet with specimens of which, 
 if the greatest painters can transfer to canvas literal 
 copies, they may consider themselves fortunate. 
 
 Among the few faults in Flaxman's outlines may be 
 noticed the conventional forms of some of the inferior 
 animals. In the fifth plate of his " Iliad," the eagle 
 by the side of Jupiter is merely heraldic in its figure, 
 and the lions, oxen, and sheep, in others of his de- 
 signs, are but a remove or two nearer to Nature. 
 Even his horses have something of the conventional 
 
ON THE IDEAL 
 
 77 
 
 forms of the inferior styles of sculpture ; but had his 
 designs been made after he had seen the Elgin 
 marbles, he would no doubt have paid as much 
 attention to Nature in his horses as he has done in 
 the forms and characters of his men and women. 
 
 From this we may observe how apt even the 
 greatest artists are to rest contented, in some things, 
 with the degree of excellence of such previous Art as 
 is known to them. Raphael remained satisfied to 
 repeat the horses of the earlier Italian painters, with 
 their defective forms, and human eyes and expressions, 
 though he was far from satisfied to repeat the figures 
 of their men, women, and children. 
 
 The ideal, as a general principle, and not confined 
 to form merely, is a principle so natural that the most 
 untaught sign-painter paints his sky with the brightest 
 blue and his fields and trees with the most vivid green 
 he can procure, though he well knows he is exceeding 
 the colours of Nature. But his notion is, that a 
 picture must be an improvement on Nature — a notion 
 always preceding the true settlement of what consti- 
 tutes the ideal — namely, a selection from, and a 
 combination of, the beauties of Nature, as the only 
 means by which Art can compensate for its unavoid- 
 able shortcomings. "We cannot," said Sir Thomas 
 Lawrence, "compete with Nature in the exquisite 
 beauties she everywhere offers us, or in the minute 
 delicacies of her finish ; our only chance is in selec- 
 tion and combination." 
 
 The ideal I conceive to be not only the result of 
 an inborn aspiration of all taste, but it is the sole 
 condition of the very existence of Art ; and, therefore, 
 
78 ON THE IDEAL, AND 
 
 where there is no selection, or where the selection is 
 not under the guidance of judgment there may be 
 very good Paintings as far as it is merely copy, but 
 there can be no Art ; and it should be impressed on 
 the student that though a good painter or copyist of 
 Nature may obtain immediate fame, yet, unless he can 
 rise to the rank of an artist^ he will not outlive his 
 generation; for the ideal is the poetic element by 
 which, properly understood, and not by any classifica- 
 tion of subject, high Art is distinguished from low or 
 ordinary Art. 
 
 This principle is far from being confined to the 
 beautiful or the perfect; for the hump-backed and 
 near-sighted Sibyl of Michael Angelo is conceived in 
 as great a style as anything by his hand ; and Hogarth, 
 in his own subjects, is as ideal as Raphael, because 
 every face and form there is as well chosen for what 
 he meant to express as are the faces and forms of 
 Raphael. 
 
 " I work," said Raphael, " upon a certain idea that 
 presents itself to my mind. Whether this idea has 
 any artistic excellence I know not, but I do my best 
 to attain it." Though the mind of Raphael was, no 
 doubt, more than ordinarily formed for the reception 
 of images of beauty and propriety from Nature, yet he 
 was led to her by those "'arbiters of form," the Greeks. 
 
 Angelico believed of himself that his pencil wrought 
 by the immediate inspiration of Heaven, and thought 
 it would be presumptuous to alter his first conceptions ; 
 yet, in one of the few pictures I have seen by his 
 hand, the principal face, and that too of a divine 
 personage, squints. The inspiration of Angelico was, 
 
ON BEAUTY OF FORM 
 
 79 
 
 in fact, no other than that of Raphael. They both 
 repeated, with more or less of beauty, what their 
 contemporaries were doing and their predecessors 
 had done, with the assistance of a scanty legacy from 
 the wealth of Greece, gradually deteriorated as it 
 passed through the hands of the Romans, while the 
 empire declined; but by degrees recovered, as Art 
 arose from a state of suspended animation to its full 
 vigour in the fifteenth century. Even in our own 
 days additions to this precious wealth have been made 
 available to us ; and while we are thankful, we must 
 remember that, like all good things, the treasures of 
 the antique may be used to our benefit or abused to 
 our. injury. 
 
 In studying the sculpture of the Greeks and Romans, 
 we must ascertain the principles on which they worked ; 
 for the mere mechanical process of copying their pro- 
 ductions, however it may help us to obedience of hand 
 and correctness of eye, will never make us masters of 
 form. Nor can the antique be studied long to ad- 
 vantage without a constant reference to Nature ; 
 otherwise we shall become blinded to its occasional 
 defects ; as an instance of which may be noted a fault 
 in the figure of the Laocoon, the sculptor of which 
 has given an equal fulness to both the pectoral 
 muscles, whereas the right arm being raised, would 
 draw up the right pectoral muscle until it would be- 
 come nearly flat. 
 
 I have remarked how easily even a great artist may 
 be led away from beauty in blindly following previous 
 Art ; and, as this cannot be too strongly impressed on 
 the student, I will here notice one of the most impor- 
 
8o 
 
 ON THE IDEAL, AND 
 
 tant works of Guido— the "Aurora," in which, as 
 Fuseli says, the goddess " deserves to precede hours 
 less clumsy." There can be no doubt that these 
 short and heavy figures are the result of Guido's 
 admiration of the gods and goddesses on the walls of 
 the Farnesini, for the defects of which Raphael is not 
 wholly answerable, as they were painted from his 
 designs chiefly by Julio Romano. The "Galatea," 
 supposed to be entirely the work of Raphael, is, I 
 believe, free, or, at any rate, freer from these faults. 
 
 But, whatever may be the defects in particular 
 works of Raphael, he is ever present to my mind as 
 the one great painter of beauty. Not of beauty merely 
 resulting from exact proportion or elegance of form, 
 neither as it is enhanced by colour; for in these 
 respects he is often surpassed by other painters ; and 
 Fuseli may probably be right in saying, " no face of 
 Raphael's is perfectly beautiful," that is, perfect in 
 the proportions of beauty. 
 
 But Raphael is the greatest painter of the highest 
 intellectual beauty, the greatest painter of loveliness. 
 Loveliness, independent on sex, and ahuays the charm 
 of his children. How much and how often this is 
 assisted by incident and grace of attitude, I will not 
 now inquire ; nor would I by any means say that in 
 the works of many other painters the same charm 
 may not be found — a charm, however, that pervades 
 the Art of Raphael and raises him above the Greek 
 sculptors, in whose works the beauty of exact propor- 
 tion and of grace is common enough, but among their 
 female heads I know but of one that impresses me as 
 lovely. 
 
ON BEAUTY OF FORM 
 
 8i 
 
 I am ignorant whether the Muses, of which the 
 Academy has casts, are Greek or Roman, but the 
 head of the Thalia is the most charming thing in 
 sculpture I ever saw, uniting the utmost tenderness of 
 expression with great beauty of features. The figure, 
 peculiar in its proportions, being remarkably slender, 
 entirely corresponds with the face, and the attitude is 
 as graceful as that is charming. Indeed this delicate 
 statue is, from head to foot, such a personification of 
 feminine gentleness, refinement, and sensibility, as we 
 meet with in Nature, much oftener than in Art, with 
 all its boasted poetry. 
 
 In all, either of Sculpture or Painting, that I am 
 acquainted with, the only face of equal beauty to that 
 of the Thalia, is the face of Michael Angelo's Delphic 
 Sibyl ; and this I have seen only in a copy (but a 
 most admirable one) by Mr. Richard Cook.^ In the 
 Sibyl, as in the Thalia, the soul sits in the eyes and 
 breathes from the lips. The Muse seems absorbed 
 in tender thoughts, the Sibyl listens in wonderment to 
 a heavenly voice ; and if ever inspiration was painted, 
 it is here. 
 
 The accidents that tend to impair the beauty of 
 humanity are so much more numerous than those 
 which affect any other forms, that it is not too much 
 to say, perfect beauty of face and figure can never be 
 found in man or woman. The human form, in in- 
 fancy, has in most instances its greatest conceivable 
 beauty \ but the wearing of clothes soon impairs it ; 
 
 1 Some repairs were going on in the Sistine Chapel, and 
 Mr. Cook had the advantage of making his drawing from a 
 scaffold upon which he stood, close to the fresco. 
 
82 
 
 ON BEAUTY OF FORM 
 
 no leg or foot, for instance, can remain long unspoiled 
 by the shoe or the garter. Nor is it form only that 
 is injured by dress ; the colour becomes unequal 
 in the degree in which the body is more or less 
 exposed to the air, and the portions most closely 
 bandaged are tinged with an unhealthy yellowness. 
 Luxury, and the injurious habits consequent on most 
 of the employments of man, contribute, with his 
 vices, to the gradual injury of so much of beauty as 
 may have been the birthright of the individual ; and 
 it is, therefore, only by the comparison of many in- 
 stances, and a just selection of what remains best in 
 each, that a standard of human form has ever been 
 established. 
 
 All beauty is in a great degree relative. I need 
 scarcely remark that the most perfect proportions of 
 the woman are, in some respects, the reverse of beauty 
 in the man ; and the long body and short legs of the 
 child would amount to deformity in the adult : — and 
 the same is, in a degree, true of grace. The attitudes 
 of children are proverbially graceful; yet there are 
 some proper only to childhood, and which would be 
 ridiculous in elder life, — as there are attitudes graceful 
 in women that belong to them only. The slightly- 
 inward inclination of the knees in the structure of the 
 female may often be increased with an increase of 
 grace, — but any such deviation from the straight line 
 from the hip to the foot in man suggests weakness ; 
 and though the representation of peculiar characters 
 may require us to give an effeminate structure to the 
 "Oian or a masculine one to the woman, this must always 
 be at the expense of the beauty proper to each. 
 
ON THE BEAUTY OF OLD AGE 83 
 
 There is a beauty peculiar to old age, to disease, to 
 calamity ; and in death there is a strange and peculiar 
 beauty, I believe, in almost every instance. 
 
 With respect to the first, I cannot do better than 
 quote the following passage from the pen of a gifted 
 lady.i 
 
 " The beauty of old age is, perhaps, more rare than 
 that of any other time of life, — I mean, fewer attain 
 to the beauty which adorns the hoary head ; — but 
 when it is possessed, it is the most noble or the most 
 lovely, because it is the most truly spiritual and the 
 most truly moral of all beauty. Other beauty, though 
 probably in a great degree dependent upon, and 
 certainly in a great degree enhanced by, moral quali- 
 ties, is yet in many respects an accident of forms and 
 colours, but the beauty of old age is the resume of the 
 life of man. Upon that time-worn countenance the 
 passions and the faults, the virtues and the feelings, 
 the tenderness, love, benevolence — or envy, covetous- 
 ness, selfishness, and rage, have written their characters 
 in ineffaceable lines ; and beautiful it is to see, as we 
 often do see, faces actually plain to ugliness in their 
 youth gradually expanding into beauty under the in- 
 fluence of goodness^ sense, and worth ; the eye bright- 
 ening into a serene clearness ; the lines of the coun- 
 tenance assuming a heavenly refinement and repose ; 
 the whole face glorified with a sweetness and loveli- 
 ness not of this world. And it is the reverse — and 
 alas ! I fear more frequently — when the lovely features 
 that delight us in youth, gradually lose their charm, 
 as the insipidity of vanity, the scowl of disappointment, 
 1 Mrs. Marsh, from The Wilmingtons. 
 
84 ON THE BEAUTY OF DISEASE, ETC, 
 
 the dulness of vacuity, the sharp thin Hnes of vicious 
 excitement, or the grosser ones of sensual enjoyment, 
 gradually obscure what once was." 
 
 The beauty of disease, like that of old age, is 
 chiefly, though not entirely, spiritual. The young 
 boy or girl whose face and form were ordinary and 
 commonplace while (as they seemed) in rude health, 
 gradually appear refining into angels, as they waste 
 away. The brightening of the eye with unearthly 
 lustre, the delicate flush of the cheek, the pearliness 
 of the teeth, and the attenuation of the whitening 
 hands, all add inconceivably to the interest with which 
 we look on the young, slowly wasting in decline, who 
 seem (to use the words of Coleridge) "signed and 
 sealed for Heaven." 
 
 Calamity will, where there is anything of goodness 
 or of thought, add more and more of goodness and 
 thought to the features. The beggar who sat to 
 Reynolds for his "Ugolino" was again selected by 
 him as a model for a picture of " Resignation," sug- 
 gested by the beautiful lines of Goldsmith. But we 
 may believe it was only after years of privation that 
 the head of this man, though the features were fine, 
 became worthy of this subject, or fit for the 
 " Ugolino." 
 
 But the beauty of death is not so easily explicable. 
 How far its strange fascination may arise from the 
 idea suggested of a repose, compared with which that 
 of the most tranquil sleep is agitation, I will not pre- 
 tend to determine. I knew a man of the highest 
 order of mind, a man of fine feelings, but of great 
 simplicity, and far above all affectation, who, stand- 
 
ON THE BEAUTY OF DEATH 85 
 
 ing by the corpse of his wife, said — " It gives me very 
 pleasurable sensations." And yet he had truly loved 
 her. 
 
 The exquisite lines in " The Giaour," in which the 
 present aspect of Greece is compared to a beautiful 
 corpse, are familiar to every reader. Lord Byron, in 
 a note to the passage, remarks that "this peculiar 
 beauty remains but a few hours after death." But I 
 have been told, by those in the habit of making casts, 
 that on the second day the expression is generally 
 improved, and even on the third day it is often still 
 finer. I have, in several instances, been asked to 
 make drawings from the dead, and though in every 
 case I have entered the room where the body lay 
 somewhat reluctantly, yet I have invariably felt reluc- 
 tant to quit it. 
 
 At Kreutsberg, near Bonn, there is a church, under 
 the pavement of which lie, in one vault, the bodies of 
 twenty-five monks, in open coffins. The dryness of 
 the air has preserved them from decay, though the 
 last buried has lain there for more than a century. I 
 visited this church with a party of ladies, who at first 
 hesitated to descend into the abode of the dead. We 
 all, however, went down, each carrying a lighted taper, 
 and such was the fascination of this singular scene 
 that we lingered in it for some time. The air was 
 perfectly pure, and we seemed to be in another world, 
 with its own eternal interests effacing for the time all 
 other interests. It seemed to us a mistake that 
 death should be represented by poets or by painters 
 as a hideous phantom. We could not contemplate 
 those withered faces of old men, for they seemed all 
 
86 ON THE BEAUTY OF DEATH 
 
 old, and think of death otherwise than as a gentle 
 friend. Their attitudes were varied, and all had a 
 kind of grace, which, though we knew it to be arranged 
 by their friends, seemed perfectly natural. One, the 
 gardener, had a chaplet of withered leaves round his 
 head. All were clothed in the dress of their order ; 
 and their clothes, as well as their bodies, though the 
 last were dried to mummies, appeared to be little 
 decayed. 
 
 Lord Byron says, " In death from a stab, the coun- 
 tenance preserves its traits of feeling or ferocity, and 
 the mind its bias to the last." I can only say that 
 in all the casts I have seen from those whose deaths 
 have been violent or painful, I have noticed the same 
 repose of the features and the same faint indication of 
 a smile that assists in constituting the beauty of death 
 in other cases. Causes wholly unconnected with the 
 state of mind or feeling at the time of dissolution 
 contribute, in individual cases, to beautify the features. 
 The cast taken, very imperfectly, by Dr. Antomarchi, 
 from the face of Napoleon, is more handsome than 
 any bust or portrait of him; and, indeed, has the 
 look of a much younger man than he appears in the 
 latest portraits. This is easily accounted for. Illness 
 had reduced the superabundant fleshiness of the lower 
 part of his face, and brought it back to the condition 
 of an early period ; and death, by leaving the mouth 
 slightly open, had destroyed that expression of selfish 
 determination which the thin compressed lips give to 
 every portrait of Napoleon. The profile of the cast 
 is the most perfectly beautiful profile of a man I ever 
 saw; and it should here be noticed that, as in this 
 
ON THE BEAUTY OF DEATH 87 
 
 instance, the beauty added by death to a face origin- 
 ally of very fine proportions has nothing to do with 
 metaphysical causes, so I believe it is the case in 
 every instance, the faint smile being caused by the 
 last slight convulsion after all consciousness has 
 ceased. 
 
 From sheer indolence great mistakes are often 
 made in the representations of death. Painters some- 
 times omit to leave the mouth open, and I have seen 
 a naked corpse painted with the chest raised, as it 
 could only be in the act of drawing breath, studied, 
 of course, from a living model. 
 
SECTION VIII 
 
 On Drawing 
 
 It is the practice in all schools in which drawing the 
 human figure is taught, to begin with the antique; 
 accompanied with the study of so much of anatomy 
 as shall enable the painter to understand the causes 
 of all the varieties of form and action. 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds frequently, and forcibly, and, 
 I think, convincingly^ inculcates the importance to the 
 young painter of having the palette on his hand at the 
 very commencement of his studies. He recommends 
 that he should paint his studies as well as draiu them, 
 and it is probable he meant his studies from sculpture 
 as well as those from Nature ; and I know it was the 
 practice of one of our most distinguished living artists, 
 and of some of his fellow-students, to paint from the 
 casts in the Royal Academy. 
 
 Stothard showed me some exquisite drawings of 
 his own from the antique, with pen and ink only, the 
 shadows being beautifully hatched in the manner of 
 line engravings. He told me he adopted this method 
 because, as he could not obliterate a line, it obliged 
 him to think before he touched his paper; and no doubt 
 it contributed to that certainty of hand and accuracy 
 of eye which was so valuable to him in after life. 
 
ON DRA WING 89 
 
 } 
 
 In the study of the antique marbles, an observing 
 eye will soon discover that they are far from being 
 of equal perfection. Many have been injured by 
 restoration, which fortunately, however, the Elgin 
 fragments have escaped, and it may be hoped will 
 for ever escape; and many are not of the best 
 times, which have always been the briefest times 
 of Art. If the remains of Roman sculpture, whether 
 by Greek or native artists, are not, on the whole, 
 equal to the Greek Art of the Phidian era, they 
 yet abound with works, for the preservation of 
 which we cannot be too thankful. The mighty 
 Farnese Hercules, and the Belvidere Apollo " coming 
 forth as a bridegroom," are "for all time." Critics 
 may find fault, and I remember that when the 
 Elgin Theseus arrived in England, attempts were 
 made to degrade the Hercules and Apollo by com- 
 parisons with a noble work as matchless as them- 
 selves; attempts that fully proved the wisdom of 
 Constable's remark, that "no fine things will bear 
 or want comparisons; every fine thing is unique." 
 
 There is, however, one celebrated antique in the 
 attitude of which a serious defect has been pointed 
 out by Dr. Spurzheim, a defect for which not all 
 its excellence can atone. The hero, misnamed " The 
 Fighting Gladiator," throws himself forward to attack, 
 while his left arm is raised in defence ; and yet a 
 blow from a child on that arm would knock him 
 to the ground; the right leg, which should render 
 the attitude a firm one, being advanced instead of 
 the other. Indeed, Nature would dictate a contrary 
 position of the legs without any knowledge of the 
 
90 
 
 ON DRA WING 
 
 science of defence, as will be at once felt if we 
 attempt to place ourselves in the attitude. How 
 such a serious fault should have been committed 
 it is difficult to conceive. The only conjecture is, 
 that the position of the limbs was arranged by the 
 sculptor as a matter of composition, without, what 
 would have been the better mode, desiring a living 
 model to place himself in a fighting attitude. 
 
 Though the Royal Academy requires the attain- 
 ment of a considerable degree of power in drawing 
 from the antique before the student is admitted to 
 the life, yet (out of school) the young painter cannot 
 begin too soon to draw from Nature, and particularly 
 heads and hands; and in such practice, as well as 
 when admitted to the life school, what is before 
 him should be carefully copied without any attempt 
 to improve defective forms. Nothing else need be 
 said to recommend this mode of study than that 
 it was practised by Flaxman and by Stothard. 
 
 A knowledge of anatomy may be abused, like all 
 other knowledge, by its ostentatious display, or by 
 allowing theories formed upon it to supersede ob- 
 servation. Both these causes contributed to faults 
 in the forms of a late eminent painter, who was yet 
 an enthusiastic admirer* of the Elgin marbles, works 
 not more remarkable for their anatomical truth than 
 for its unobtrusiveness. Mr. Haydon was not only 
 thoroughly acquainted with the structure and uses 
 of the numan bones and muscles, but he had paid 
 much attention to comparative anatomy, and thence 
 formed a theory of the ideal, which consisted in 
 giving an emphasis to those peculiarities of form 
 
ON DRA WING 
 
 91 
 
 which distinguish the man from the brute, where 
 the character was to be noble; and where ignoble, 
 in adding something of the brute peculiarities to 
 the human form. Thus he raised the forehead and 
 exaggerated its width, to express intellect, to an 
 appearance of disease; and arched the bones of 
 the foot (that it might deviate as much as possible 
 from the flat foot of the monkey) into a form that 
 would not be admired in Nature, and that is not 
 to be found in the best antiques. 
 
 As the Autobiography and Lectures of this extra- 
 ordinary man will always be read with great interest, 
 the student should be placed on his guard against 
 the occasional carelessness of his assertions. In 
 his second lecture, for instance, he tells us that 
 "Raphael, instigated by his genius, adhered to 
 the head and face as immediate vehicles of ex- 
 pression, and he gave the head an undue prepon- 
 derance as to size. The Greeks generally made 
 their figures seven, seven and a half, eight heads, 
 and even nine heads high. Raphael seldom more 
 than six, and sometimes five." This is quite un- 
 true, as an examination of the cartoons will prove. 
 Many of the figures in these would certainly measure 
 eight heads, and I doubt if one can be found to 
 measure so few as five or even six heads high. It 
 is probable Raphael did not take the trouble to 
 apply the compasses to his figures, as the same 
 personages in different subjects differ in their pro- 
 portions. At any rate it will be evident to any 
 practised eye that the figures, generally, in the 
 cartoons, as in the other works of Raphael, though 
 
92 
 
 ON DRA WING 
 
 of various stature, do not differ in their general 
 measurement from the antique, however they may 
 vary from those of Michael Angelo, whose men 
 are, as Fuseli says, "a race of giants." 
 ' Students learn much from each other, and much 
 often that is valuable; but they should always be 
 on their guard against fashions that creep into 
 drawing schools from the practice of clever young 
 men, to whom the rest look up. I have lately 
 noticed a prevailing practice, in the Life School 
 of the Royal Academy, of an equally strong pro- 
 nunciation of the outline of the entire figure, which 
 tends to inure the eye to a hard, detached method 
 of representing form, unlike the manner in which 
 Nature, with all her beautiful varieties of light and 
 shade, always addresses herself to the eye. The 
 library of the Royal Academy possesses about 
 seventy drawings from the life, by Stothard, some 
 very slight, and others exquisitely wrought, though 
 few that are completely finished. They may, how- 
 ever, be strongly recommended to the notice of 
 the student, who can never examine them without 
 improvement of his perception of the beauties of 
 Nature; and they may, I think, prove a safeguard 
 against his being led into mannerism by the changing 
 fashions of schools ; though not if he attempts a 
 literal imitation of them. 
 
SECTION IX 
 
 Invention and Expression 
 
 INSTANCES FROM THE OLD MASTERS 
 
 The inventive faculty is of as much importance to 
 the painter of portrait as to the painter of history; 
 and of as much also to the painter even of local 
 landscape, all the features of which are capable of 
 powerful expression in the hands of genius. But, for 
 the present, I shall confine myself to the invention 
 of the incidents of life and the expression of the 
 passions. 
 
 Originality and skill in inventing or telling a story, 
 and in expressing the passions, are kept alive only by 
 the artist's powers of observation ; and the difference 
 between the greater or lesser painter results very 
 much from this, — that the first thinks of his Art 
 everywhere and at all times, the last in his painting- 
 room only and at set hours. Hogarth, describing 
 his own habits, says, " Be where I would, while my 
 eyes were open, I was continually at my studies, and 
 acquiring something useful to my profession ; and 
 Stothard's sketch-books were filled with groups of 
 figures and scenery made without selection, but 
 
94 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 merely of what chance offered to his notice while 
 travelling; sometimes objects which the window of 
 an inn presented while horses were changing, and 
 sometimes what he saw from the top of a stage-coach ; 
 and I would earnestly impress on all young artists, 
 that the practice of redeeming spare moments of time 
 by sketching whatever is thrown in their way is an 
 invaluable one. Those who adopt it will be sure to 
 be rewarded by often finding memoranda so made of 
 far greater interest than they had imagined; and it 
 will correct the habit, always fatal to originality, of 
 going to Nature for things only that resemble what 
 they have seen in Art. Among the drawings by 
 Raphael, collected by Sir Thomas Lawrence, were 
 many evidently of what chance presented to him. I 
 recollect one, in particular, singularly elegant, of three 
 or four young men in the dress of his time sitting at 
 a table, and their attitudes but very slightly varied ; — 
 an accidental group, in all probability, of his pupils. 
 The works of Michael Angel o abound in attitudes 
 that seem as if taken immediately from Nature ; and, 
 indeed, most of the noble range of his prophets and 
 sibyls have this look. 
 
 A subject happily adopted from Nature should not 
 deprive the painter of the credit due to invention ; 
 for indeed the mere faculty of inventing an incident 
 is far more common than the nice and quick percep- 
 tion of that in Nature which is fitted to the purposes 
 of Art, and which ordinary observers would pass by, 
 or reject, perhaps, as trifling or unworthy. Burns 
 turned up a mouse with his plough, and was heard 
 to say by a man who was at work with him, "I'll 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 95 
 
 make that mouse immortal ! " And he kept his 
 word. 
 
 The importance of the constant observation of 
 Nature to the painter of real life will be readily 
 admitted, but such habits are of no less value to the 
 painter of the most imaginative class of subjects. — 
 The supernatural is not the unnatural. The centaur, 
 the sphinx, the satyr, etc., are but combinations of 
 Nature, and there is true taste shown in making these 
 ideal beings act naturally, — as when, in a group of 
 the Phygalian Marbles, a centaur bites his antagonist, 
 and when Shakspeare makes Bottom, the weaver, 
 long for hay and oats when the ass's head is on his 
 shoulders. Indeed, two of the most exquisitely 
 poetic conceptions of Shakspeare, the Oberon and 
 Titania, when we look beyond the charm of their lan- 
 guage, are the veriest man and wife that ever existed. 
 
 And here it may be useful to notice an instance of 
 the substitution of the unnatural for the supernatural 
 by a great master. In the picture by Nicolo Poussin, 
 in the National Gallery, of "Perseus destroying his 
 Adversaries by displaying the Gorgon's Head," the 
 attempt to represent men half flesh and half stone 
 suggests nothing to the eye but imperfect or damaged 
 colouring. The subject, indeed, defies the painter's 
 Art ; and this failure is a single exception in the 
 practice of a painter pre-eminently gifted with the 
 power of making poetic fiction equally beautiful and 
 probable to the eye. 
 
 The perception of what is false is, at least, a step 
 towards the knowledge of what is true; and it will 
 be found that the conventional and the affected are 
 
96 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 the result of that species of mind that will not let 
 Nature have her own way — that has formed, indeed, 
 its notions of consistency independently on observa- 
 tion. To explain what I mean, I would say that had 
 such a mind to deal with a story of such love as that 
 of Romeo and Juliet, it would have deemed it a pro- 
 fanation of the passion to make, as Shakspeare has 
 done, Juliet the successor of Rosaline in the heart of 
 Romeo. 
 
 The ideal of such writers or painters is not an 
 ideal of selection but an ideal of their own, or, I 
 believe, in most cases, an ideal imitated from other 
 similarly-constituted minds ; for in all their produc- 
 tions there is a remarkable family likeness. Through- 
 out their delineations of life there is an absence of 
 all that delicate discrimination of the subtle lights 
 and shades of character which a thorough and un- 
 biassed acquaintance with the men and women that 
 surround us can only teach. Instead of true repre- 
 sentations of life, they give us faultless heroes and 
 heroines opposed to characters of motiveless atrocity ; 
 — and when their subjects are above the world, they 
 mistake the conventional so entirely for the ideal as 
 to keep themselves equally out of the sphere of our 
 sympathies. 
 
 Such minds remain in a state of perpetual child- 
 hood; — often they are highly amiable, and as often 
 cold and unsympathising. With the best intentions, 
 they Q,?.x\. effect no good, but may very much mislead 
 — for a writer or painter can only serve the cause of 
 morality in the degree in which he is true to Nature. 
 In Shakspeare we discover no aim to enforce a moral. 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 but he is the most moral of all dramatists, because he 
 is the truest. 
 
 It is a mistake to suppose that human nature may 
 not be studied within a confined limit. The constant 
 inhabitant of a village may learn far more of man- 
 kind, if he be a close and just observer, than he 
 whose life is spent in roaming over the world, if he 
 observes not carefully, and, above all, if he studies not 
 himself. Indeed, the opportunities of knowing a few 
 individuals long and intimately are more favourable 
 to a knowledge of character than seeing much of the 
 surface of life, which is nearly all that is seen in 
 travelling. Few men travelled less than Shakspeare, 
 than Raphael, or than Hogarth. 
 
 In the loose language in which the productions of 
 Art are spoken of, we often hear of the creations of the 
 poet or the painter. But invention is combination^ 
 not creation ; and in Painting whatever may with any 
 degree of correctness be called creation can only be 
 the monstrous or the false. Mannered Art of every 
 description is properly a creation of the pencil. It 
 has graces, expressions, styles of composition, lights, 
 shades, and colours all its own, and all mistaken by 
 the mannerist himself, and by his admirers, for the 
 ideal. "The Art would be easily understood," 
 said Constable, "if the mannerists had never ex- 
 isted." 
 
 Selection and Combination are, then, the principles 
 on which Invention must work ; and in recurring so 
 frequently to these, I wish as much as possible to 
 avoid splitting general principles into rules. The only 
 mode in which instruction can be conveyed, after the 
 
 H 
 
98 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 principles derived from Nature are pointed out, is to 
 draw attention, in detail, to the varieties of practice 
 that have prevailed in different ages and schools, and 
 ascertain how far they are founded in truth, — not so 
 much to recommend their imitation as to quicken 
 powers that may serve as guides in new and untried 
 ways. 
 
 Invention and Expression have always been the first 
 qualities to display themselves in Art. In the dark 
 ages, Religion was driven by the ferocity of the times 
 into the Monastery and the Hermitage, whither she 
 was accompanied by all that remained of learning. 
 Convents, therefore, became the nurseries of Art and 
 of Science, as well as of Religion ; and Painting, in 
 the hands of the mediaeval artists, was consequently 
 employed exclusively on contemplative and devotional 
 subjects. It may be interesting to the antiquary, but 
 it is useless to the artist, to go farther back than 
 to Giotto, in considering the inventive power; and 
 whether, in the age of JuHus or Leo, he might have 
 been what Raphael was, is a question that it may be 
 honourable to both to ask, but which it is fair to both 
 that it should be left without an answer. As it is, 
 the advantage, if it be but that of time, is on the side 
 of Raphael, and he stands forward pre-eminently as 
 the painter of Christianity, not confined to the cloister, 
 but entering into the world, adapted to the world, — 
 sympathising with all that is human, relieving the 
 infirmities and satisfying all the real wants of our 
 nature, to purify and to elevate it. And to be this, it 
 was necessary that Raphael should be, as Fuseli calls 
 him, "the warm master of our sympathies," as well 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 99 
 
 as heir to all the highest powers of the artists who 
 preceded him. 
 
 The Cartoons make me present at the scenes they 
 represent more than the works of any other painter 
 who has treated such subjects ; and it is only in the 
 recollection of them that I can fancy I have seen the 
 Apostles. It may be unfair to judge entirely of 
 Leonardo's "Last Supper" from the copy in our 
 Academy, fine as it is ; or I should say that, with the 
 exception of that of the Saviour, all the heads there 
 are less satisfactory than those of the same personages 
 in the Cartoons. 
 
 In their representations of humanity, many of the 
 earlier Italian painters seem to have given portraits of 
 persons about them with little attention to propriety of 
 character ; in this respect resembling the Naturalisti 
 of the latter part of the sixteenth century. They were 
 ideal only in their impersonations of the divine. 
 Where, however, their subjects are dramatic, their 
 inventions are often very fine ; and the engravings from 
 the Campo Santo at Pisa show from whence many of 
 the materials of Raphael and Michael Angelo were 
 derived. But whatever Raphael adopted, from this 
 great treasure-house of Mediaeval Art, he adopted to 
 improve, which cannot perhaps be so strictly said of 
 Michael Angelo, whose " Last Judgment " might per- 
 haps have been better planned, as unquestionably the 
 principal figure might be more finely conceived, had 
 he never seen the " Last Judgment " of Orcagna. 
 
 The great work of that early painter, the " Triumph 
 of Death," has, however, not been imitated, to my 
 knowledge, in its principal feature; indeed the con- 
 
loo INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 ception is so fine as to preclude amendment, the only 
 justification of imitation. Nothing could be added, 
 nothing taken from it, without injury. Our associa- 
 tions of the skeleton form with Death have, it is true, 
 to be got rid of at the first sight of the beldame of 
 Orcagna, an Atropos armed with a scythe, with 
 streaming hair, and the wings and talons of a harpy. 
 She disregards the solicitations of a group of beggars, 
 and hastens towards a party of fair dames and gallant 
 cavaliers, who are seated under the shade of orange- 
 trees listening to minstrelsy, while Cupids are flutter- 
 ing above them. This group is separated from the 
 beggars by a heap of the dead and the dying, kings, 
 queens, churchmen, warriors, lords, and ladies — many 
 of them still grasping in their hands the things of the 
 world. No finer sermon was ever painted ; — and it 
 has a passage which I cannot but notice, because it 
 does the highest honour to the painter's feelings, 
 when we consider the spirit of the age in which he 
 lived. Among the poor and the miserable who are 
 calling on Death for relief, a wretched man extends 
 his arms, from which both hands have been lopped 
 by the barbarity of the law, which is evident from 
 the mutilation also of his features. Now, though 
 the obtrusion of objects of horror is, in most cases, 
 unjustifiable, — yet here the humanity of the motive, 
 undoubtedly that of interesting the better feelings of 
 the rulers of his time, and opening their eyes to the 
 cruelty of their laws, places the painter among the 
 benefactors of his species. 
 
 Art was checked in its very beginning by the dread 
 of idolatry ; and it seems from this fear that the first 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION loi 
 
 Christian artists refrained, or were prohibited, from any 
 attempt to introduce representations of the real person 
 of our Saviour into their works. Types were there- 
 fore resorted to, and hence the frequent preference of 
 subjects from the Old Testament. Abraham, in the 
 act of sacrificing Isaac, alluded to the one great Sacri- 
 fice, — the rock struck by Moses was the spiritual Rock, 
 the Stream, the Well of salvation, and the ascension 
 of Elijah to Heaven, the ascension of our Lord. 
 
 This system was adopted also by Michael Angelo 
 in the Sistine Chapel, where Christ appears only as 
 the Judge of the World. — And Raphael, in the fres- 
 coes of the Vatican, complimented the Popes Julius 
 the Second and Leo the Tenth, by typical allusions 
 to passages in their lives. The subjects in which he 
 has done this were no doubt suggested to him, and 
 not, perhaps, such as he would have chosen ; but the 
 skill with which he has managed the unavoidable 
 anachronisms cannot be too highly praised. 
 
 When, however, near the close of his life, Raphael 
 was employed by Leo to furnish a series of designs 
 for tapestry, from the New Testament, to adorn the 
 Sistine Chapel, he was no longer fettered by any 
 other than the direct meaning of the story, and he 
 produced the Cartoons, of which the seven that (so 
 fortunately for this country) belong to the Royal 
 collection, and which are the only ones that exist, 
 would alone have given him his transcendent reputa- 
 tion, were they the only series of his works known 
 to us. 
 
 In the "Miraculous Draught of Fishes" we see 
 the Redeemer selecting his friends and ministers from 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 the humblest class of men. In the " Charge to Peter " 
 the choice is ratified in a still more solemn manner. 
 In the " Death of Ananias " and in the " Punishment 
 of Elymas" the Gospel purity is vindicated, — at 
 Lystra, and at the Beautiful Gate its beneficence is 
 manifested, — while at Athens it opposes the pride of 
 philosophy, and demands of the sophists that they 
 should become as little children. It is true these 
 subjects might have been selected, as some of them 
 have been, by other painters ; but the admirable pro- 
 priety with which Raphael has treated them belongs 
 to himself alone, — and there is not an instance in 
 which any story of the series has been repeated by 
 another hand, however great, which is not compara- 
 tively a failure. 
 
 But the Cartoons are not faultless. I care little 
 for the mistake about the size of the boats in the 
 "Miraculous Draught," but I do care about what 
 seems to me a failure in the action and expression of 
 St. Paul in the "Sacrifice at Lystra." Nothing can 
 be more elegant than the lines of the figure; but 
 (and this is rare indeed with Raphael) the meaning 
 is not expressed. The left hand does not hold the 
 drapery so that it could be torn, and the attitude 
 altogether is wanting in the characteristic energy 
 of St. Paul. How different is he from the earnest 
 man who, in the Areopagus, directs the group of 
 philosophers before him to the true God ! Here is 
 St. Paul himself, — the Paul whose fervid eloquence 
 made Felix tremble, and almost persuaded Agrippa 
 to become a Christian, as he stood in chains before 
 them. In the whole wide range of Raphael's com- 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 103 
 
 positions, I know not one, indeed, in which truth of 
 expression and discrimination of character are carried 
 further than in this cartoon. How admirably has he 
 characterised the disciples of the various sects of 
 philosophy, and how striking is the contrast presented 
 to all these by the two nearest figures of the com- 
 position — Dionysius the Areopagite, and Damaris ! 
 Their hearts are penetrated; they regard what they 
 hear, not as a system of human knowledge, but as 
 divine truth; and they advance with a modest and 
 earnest reverence to the Apostle, — expressed as 
 Raphael alone could express it. 
 
 If the head of the Saviour, even as it appears in 
 the copy which we possess of Leonardo's great 
 work, be, as it seems to me, the best image of a 
 countenance of which no representation can ever 
 satisfy us, the heads in the "Miraculous Draught 
 of Fishes " and the " Charge to Peter " are perhaps 
 the next in value. The expression "divine" is 
 often applied to human works by an hyperbole of 
 language which custom has sanctioned; but where 
 is the power that is to give the divine in expression, 
 or where the authority by which the attainment is 
 to be confirmed? With a lofty conception of 
 humanity we must be content. In Leonardo's 
 work such a conception shows us "The Man of 
 Sorrows," in the "Miraculous Draught of Fishes" 
 the gentlest of masters, but in the "Charge to 
 Peter," where we expect so much more, Art could 
 go no higher. 
 
 Are, then, such subjects as this, or the "Trans- 
 figuration," or the "Last Judgment," not to be 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 painted? Whatever may be the answer to this 
 question, an objection that rests on the inadequacy 
 of human powers would exclude much from Art 
 that we should be sorry to lose. It would exclude, 
 for instance, Claude's and Turner's representations 
 of the sun; and if Art may attempt nothing but 
 with the hope of entire success, it would be limited 
 indeed. In all that relates to the imitation of 
 material Nature, this question is settled by the 
 principle that deception is in no case the end of 
 Painting; and in what relates to higher things it 
 is a question that had better be left open. 
 
 In thinking of Raphael, I cannot but dissent 
 from the opinion now in fashion with one class of 
 critics — namely, that his earliest works are to be 
 preferred for their religious sentiment to those of 
 his riper years. It is very true that he did not 
 diverge from the Bible and the legends of his 
 church for his subjects till he was in the prime of 
 life; but the Cartoons are among his latest pro- 
 ductions,^ and they display a heart as pure, as 
 gentle, and as reverent of all holy things, as those 
 of his youngest days; while, at the same time, 
 they show such an extended knowledge of the 
 world as might be expected from the date of their 
 production. In that noble one, the "Charge to 
 Peter," look at the attitude and expression of the 
 kneeling saint ! look at the earnestness and love 
 with which John presses forward to his master ! 
 and at the surprise and reverential awe, mingled 
 
 1 Dr. Waagen makes him thirty, and Dr. Kiigler thirty-two, 
 when he commenced them. 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 105 
 
 with something of fear, that prevents the rest of 
 the disciples from clustering round their Lord ! 
 There is, to me, as much of deep religious feeling 
 in this single picture as in all the " Holy Families " 
 of his early hand, with all their loveliness and 
 purity; and such pictures as this and the "Miracu- 
 lous Draught of Fishes," and the " Death of Ananias,'' 
 make me feel with Lavater, that "Raphael is, and 
 ever will be, an apostolic man; in other words, he 
 is, with regard to painters, what the apostles were 
 with regard to the rest of mankind." — Who, I would 
 ask, but Raphael, could have given a befitting ex- 
 pression to that extraordinary exclamation of St. 
 Peter, " Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, 
 
 0 Lord ? " And who but Raphael has represented, 
 so truly^ the first-called disciples as lowly fishermen, 
 and yet with a natural dignity befitting men selected 
 for the regeneration of their species ? 
 
 It is very easy for those who cannot impress on 
 canvas the nice shades of human character and 
 passion to mistake the absence of this power for 
 purity of feeling, and the endless copyings in early 
 Art of the attitudes of devotion, which were and are 
 always to be seen in every Roman Catholic church, 
 for religious sentiment. But because Raphael went 
 out of the church and into the world, — where he 
 has shown us the first and brightest appearances 
 of Christianity among men of like passions with 
 ourselves, as no other painter has shown them, — 
 
 1 cannot understand the spirit of that criticism that 
 can speak of his fall — the fall of Raphael ! — be 
 it observed, long before he painted the Cartoons, — 
 
io6 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 and that can at the same time dwell with admiration 
 on the meanness and inanity of the saints of Francia, 
 and his unchildlike children. 
 
 A fault of many painters, in their representations 
 of childhood, is, that they make it taking an interest 
 in what can only concern more advanced periods of 
 life. But Raphael's children, unless the subject re- 
 quires it should be otherwise, are, as we see them 
 generally in Nature, wholly unconcerned with the 
 incidents that occupy the attention of their elders. 
 Thus, the boy in the cartoon of the " Beautiful Gate " 
 pulls the girdle of his grandfather, who is entirely 
 absorbed in what St. Peter is saying to the cripple. 
 The child, impatient of delay, wants the old man 
 to move on. In the " Sacrifice at Lystra," also, the 
 two beautiful boys placed at the altar, to officiate at 
 the ceremony, are too young to comprehend the 
 meaning of what is going on about them. One is 
 engrossed with the pipes on which he is playing, and 
 the attention of the other is attracted by a ram 
 brought for sacrifice. The quiet simplicity of these 
 sweet children has an indescribably charming effect 
 in this picture, where every other figure is under the 
 influence of an excitement they alone do not partake 
 in. Children, in the works of inferior painters, are 
 often nothing else than little actors ; but what I have 
 noticed of Raphael's children is true, in many in- 
 stances, of the children in the pictures of Rembrandt, 
 Jan Stcen, Hogarth, and other great painters, who, 
 like Raphael, looked to Nature for their incidents. 
 
 The great value of the Cartoons is much enhanced 
 by the circumstance, that, being cartoons^ they are 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 107 
 
 more entirely the work of Raphael's own hand than 
 the frescoes of the Vatican. Whatever assistance he 
 may have had in the painting of the architectural and 
 landscape backgrounds, the heads, and most of the 
 draperies, are the work of his hand. 
 
 Though Raphael did all things well, yet in scenes of 
 tumult and violence he has often been excelled by other 
 painters. The " Sacrifice of the Innocents " (I do not 
 allude to the ruined cartoon in the National Gallery, 
 but to the more extensive composition engraved by 
 Marc Antonio) is a subject I could wish he had never 
 touched, were it not for the single figure of the mother 
 sitting apart on the ground, and bending over the dead 
 or dying child on her lap, with one hand on its breast. 
 In this inimitable conception he has put his own seal 
 on the picture ; all the rest might have been the work 
 of another hand. Even in the " Heliodorus," I fancy 
 I see Raphael himself less in the overthrow of the 
 spoiler, fine as that part of the composition is, than in 
 the other wing of the picture. Rubens often surpasses 
 him — as, indeed, he does all other painters, with the 
 exception of Michael Angelo — in subjects of rapid 
 action ; but he as often omits to avail himself of the 
 contrast of calm dignity with tumult, which, in the 
 " Heliodorus," atones for the introduction of Julius the 
 Second as the witness of a miracle in the Jewish 
 Temple, dating 200 years before the Christian era. 
 For this anachronism the taste of the Pope is answer- 
 able, and not that of Raphael, who has managed it 
 with consummate judgment. Though part of the 
 picture, the Pope and his bearers form no part of the 
 subject. He seems only to contemplate the vision of 
 
io8 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 an event called to his mind by passages in his own life. 
 And that it may be fully understood that the presence 
 of Julius in the scene is not real, Raphael has not 
 allowed his attendants to be in the least conscious of 
 what is going on. They neither see the rush of 
 the heavenly assailants on the fallen man, nor hear the 
 screams of the women and children close to them. 
 
 The group of Leo X. and his train in the " Attila," 
 is equally valuable as affording the contrast of quiet 
 dignity to consternation and tumult; but here the 
 Pope and those with him are properly actors in the 
 scene, the only anachronism being the substitution of 
 Leo X. for Leo I. 
 
 In the "Battle of Constantine,'* painted by Julio 
 Romano, after the death of Raphael, I can see little 
 of the great master (though the design is said to be 
 entirely Raphael's), but much of Julio Romano. The 
 group of the veteran raising the body of the youthful 
 standard-bearer, and the noble back figure near it of 
 a warrior bestriding his fallen horse, are unquestionably 
 Raphael's, for his pupil has nowhere given evidence 
 of powers equal to these. But the figure of Constan- 
 tine, the winged victories that hover over him, and 
 nearly everything else in this immense composition, 
 may well be given entirely to Julio, and with benefit 
 rather than with loss to Raphael. Two other com- 
 positions in the Vatican, less spoken of, I think, than 
 they deserve to be — namely, the "Coronation of 
 Charlemagne," and the "Oath of Leo X." — are 
 evidently and wholly designs of Raphael, though 
 painted, I believe, chiefly by his scholars. 
 
 Few stories can be entirely told by the pencil, nor 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 109 
 
 is it, therefore, any objection to a subject that it requires 
 explanation not in the power of Art to give. The 
 " Last Supper," of Leonardo, and Raphael's " Charge 
 to Peter," would make but very imperfect impressions 
 on a spectator ignorant of the words spoken by the 
 principal personage in each of these pictures j and we 
 judge of an artist's powers of invention and expression 
 not so much from his making us acquainted with a 
 story, as from the degree in which his work coincides 
 with a narrative previously known to us. 
 
 There is no subject in which Raphael has displayed 
 more taste and judgment than in the "Miracle at 
 Bolsena," one of the most unmanageable stories that 
 could be proposed to an artist. A disbelieving priest, 
 while officiating at the altar, is converted by seeing 
 blood flow from the consecrated wafer ; — and how is 
 this to be expressed ? — As Raphael has painted it, no 
 change in his attitude takes place, nor is there any 
 expression in the face of the priest sufficiently marked 
 to indicate that he sees anything extraordinary in the 
 wafer which he holds in his hand. His look is rather 
 that of stupefaction than surprise, but even this is not 
 strongly marked. Northcote discovered the blush of 
 conscious shame on his cheek, and it is natural in 
 such circumstances that he should redden — and quite 
 as natural that he should turn pale. But I doubt 
 whether Raphael would have relied on so uncertain 
 an indication as complexion, which might be consti- 
 tutionally either red or pale. I think it more likely 
 that he considered — however strong might be the 
 emotion of the priest, placed as he was at the high 
 altar, in the presence of the Pope, and with the eyes 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 of the multitude upon him — he would possess the 
 power of concealing his feelings, at least as long as he 
 retained any consciousness of his situation ; and, in- 
 deed, being a disbeliever, the daily exercise of his sacred 
 function must have made him an habitual dissembler. 
 The most emphatic expressions of surprise, of terror, 
 of adoration, and of love, are seen in the faces and 
 attitudes of all by whom, from their position, the 
 bleeding Host can be seen ; and it is evident that the 
 point of time chosen by Raphael is the moment in 
 which the miracle is discovered, by its effect not having 
 spread beyond the nearest spectators. The astonish- 
 ment, therefore, of the priest must at that instant be 
 extreme; but a start or expression of terror would have 
 united him in feeling with the groups behind him, 
 and adoration would have been too sudden in one who 
 up to that moment was an infidel. Vasari speaks of 
 the " irresolution " of the priest — and this, there can 
 be little doubt, was the intended expression ; irresolu- 
 tion, arising from a conflict of feelings, suppressing for 
 an instant the predominance of any one. — So far the 
 main subject. The rest of the picture is made up of 
 episodes of dignity, of grace, and of tenderness, such 
 as the mind of Raphael could alone supply, — and 
 which render this, though the theme is unfavourable, 
 one of the very finest of his works. 
 
 I have no intention of going regularly through the 
 Stpnze of Raphael, otherwise that exceedingly beauti- 
 ful composition the "Dispute of the Sacrament" should 
 have been mentioned first. Its striking peculiarity — 
 namely, the entire separation of its upper and lower 
 portions — is the separation of Heaven and Earth, and, 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 III 
 
 instead of being on any principle objectionable, con- 
 stitutes, in my mind, one of the beauties of a work 
 abounding in beauties. No wonder that, on its com- 
 pletion, Raphael was commissioned by the Pope to 
 cover the entire walls of the Vatican. 
 
 What I have said of the anachronisms in the 
 "Attila" and the " Heliodorus," does not apply to 
 those in the "Parnassus" and the "School of 
 Athens ; " there the subjects, as they do not relate a 
 story, are greatly enriched by the introduction of the 
 poets and philosophers of different epochs. The 
 judgment with which Raphael has arranged the 
 philosophers and their disciples in the "School of 
 Athens" has been often dwelt on. Sterne says of 
 the figure of Socrates, that it is " so exquisitely 
 imagined that even the particular manner of the 
 reasoning of the philosopher is expressed by it, — for 
 he holds the forefinger of his left hand between the 
 forefinger and thumb of his right ; and seems as if he 
 were saying to the libertine he is reclaiming — 'You 
 grant me this ; and this, and this, I don^t ask of you : 
 They follow of themselves in course.' " Perhaps this 
 remark is somewhat fanciful ; but unquestionably the 
 entire management of the group of which Socrates 
 forms the principal figure is most admirable. The 
 characteristic and extreme simplicity of the dress of 
 the philosopher would have made it difficult to dis- 
 tinguish him among so many more imposing person- 
 ages, were it not for the attention paid to him by 
 Alcibiades — whose elegant and striking figure, so 
 distinct from everything else in the picture, at the first 
 glance arrests our attention. Raphael has also shown 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 the most consummate knowledge of character in the 
 introduction of Diogenes. The old cynic has thrown 
 himself on the steps that cross the picture, in the 
 most conspicuous place in the very centre of the 
 composition, with a careless air, and an attitude 
 that plainly shows his contempt for all about 
 him, as well as his desire of being noticed. It 
 reminds us of his saying to Plato, while soiling his 
 beautiful carpet with his feet, " Thus I trample on the 
 pride of Plato," — and of the reply, "Yes, Diogenes, 
 but with still greater pride." 
 
 The obligations of Raphael to Michael Angelo 
 have, I think, been over-stated by most writers, and 
 Reynolds is wholly unjust when he says, " It is to 
 Michael Angelo that we owe even the existence of 
 Raphael ; it is to him Raphael owes the grandeur of 
 his style. He was taught by him to elevate his 
 thoughts, and to conceive his subjects with dignity. 
 His genius, however formed to blaze and to shine, 
 might, like fire in combustible matter, for ever have 
 lain dormant, if it had not caught a spark by its con- 
 tact with Michael Angelo." On the other hand, the 
 attempts of some of Raphael's admirers to place him 
 above his illustrious contemporary, by ascribing to 
 him equal sublimity of conception in addition to all 
 his own peculiar excellences, are unjust to Michael 
 Angelo. The crowning excellence of each is entirely 
 his own. The Sibyls of Raphael have been compared 
 to thosci of Michael Angelo, yet there is but one 
 among them that recalls the Sibyls of the Sistine 
 Chapel, — and that, I think, only to show its want of 
 the peculiar grandeur that characterised Michael 
 
FIGURE— BY MICHAEL ANGELO. 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 1 13 
 
 Angelo ; while the rest are emanations entirely of the 
 mind of Raphael. There can be no doubt that 
 Raphael was fired and stimulated to fresh exertions 
 by the sight of his great rival's works, but I am not 
 sure that he may not have added from them some- 
 thing to his own style that did not improve it — per- 
 haps that occasional muscular heaviness of form, 
 which is only great as managed by Michael Angelo. 
 Indeed, in all the figures of Raphael that remind 
 me most of the Sistine Chapel, he seems below him- 
 self. 
 
 I have not a doubt but that those critics are right 
 who ascribe to Michael Angelo an acquaintance with 
 the resources of Art beyond that of Raphael. Even 
 from prints and copies it seems evident that he was 
 in possession of that great source of the sublime, 
 chiaroscuro, to an extent far beyond Raphael; and 
 this, no doubt, with those excellences of colour, 
 noticed by Fuseli and by Wilkie in the ceiling of the 
 Sistine Chapel, will account for the strong impression 
 made by him on Reynolds, who was at first sight dis- 
 appointed with the Vatican. — But then, on the other 
 hand, how exquisite must be the innate charm of 
 Raphael, to enable him to contend with so powerful 
 a rival, and so to contend as, at least, to divide the 
 opinion of the world on their respective merits, down 
 to the present time ! and which he never could have 
 done had he owed as much to Michael Angelo as is 
 often supposed. 
 
 The " Raising of Lazarus " would prove to me, if 
 the portraits of himself and the Cardinal Hyppolito de 
 Medicis had not already done so, that Sebastian del 
 
 I 
 
114 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 Piombo was a great portrait-painter ; but the " Rais- 
 ing of Lazarus'' proves to me, in addition, that he 
 was only a portrait-painter. It is placed beyond a 
 doubt that the figure of Lazarus was designed by 
 Michael Angelo — and with that exception the story is 
 not in any one point told. In the figure of the 
 Saviour, composition is all that has been thought of ; 
 and, indeed, it is evident that Sebastian wanted en- 
 tirely that power of imagination by which Raphael 
 and other great painters have been able, before com- 
 mencing their work, to make themselves, as it were, 
 present at the events they were to embody. Lazarus 
 has come forth, and is being loosed from his grave- 
 clothes ; yet neither of his sisters turns her eyes to 
 him. Indeed, Martha averts her head with an atti- 
 tude and expression as unmistakable as it was un- 
 worthy and inaccurate in the painter to have given it 
 to her ; for though the allusion to the corruption of 
 the body, in the history, is of importance, as sub- 
 stantiating the truth of the miracle, its effect must 
 have been dispelled by the return of life. The old 
 man kneehng on the opposite side is probably in- 
 tended for St. Peter ; but if so, he is too old, and his 
 action is neither natural, graceful, nor dignified. The 
 picture is, however, filled with portraits admirably 
 painted ; among which the profile of a young man in 
 a green and orange drapery, behind the figure of the 
 Saviour, is particularly fine.^ 
 
 ^ I speak of this picture rather as I recollect it — when it 
 could be seen, and as it may appear at some future time, if the 
 guardians of the National Gallery should ever be permitted to 
 have it cleaned. 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 1 1 5 
 
 It seemed right, after speaking of Raphael, to point 
 out what I conceive to be the defects of this work, 
 because it is one with which we are all intimately 
 acquainted, and because it may be useful to notice 
 the failures of Art as well as its successes ; and be- 
 cause the errors of such a painter as Sebastian are 
 likely to be the more mischievous from the influence 
 of his name and real merit. 
 
 Fuseli has spoken so fully and so admirably of 
 Michael Angelo that it would be presumptuous in me 
 to dwell on the frescoes of the Sistine Chapel, and the 
 more so as I know them only from copies and en- 
 gravings. 
 
 I do not, however, recollect that the peculiar con- 
 ception of the "Judith and Holofernes" has been 
 pointed out by any commentator. The headless man 
 turns on his couch, and the rustling of the curtains, 
 occasioned by his upraised and moving arm, causes 
 Judith, who has just escaped from the tent, to look 
 back. Thus the terror of the scene is indescribably 
 heightened by an attention to the fact of the continua- 
 tion of muscular motion, for a short time, after de- 
 capitation.^ 
 
 I am not aware of any treatment like this by 
 any other painter; and it is worthy of remark, that 
 Michael Angelo, while he has thus made the subject 
 in the highest degree terrific, has concealed the neck 
 of the victim, and so avoided a display of what would 
 be merely sickening. 
 
 The Cartoon of Pisa is a work of entire invention ; 
 
 1 This fact was noticed recently at the beheading of a 
 number of Chinese pirates. 
 
1 1 6 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 and varied and admirable as are its incidents, one of 
 the finest consists, in itself, of nothing more than the 
 tearing of a stocking. Connected, however, with the 
 story, and expressive of the eagerness of the veteran 
 who forces his dripping foot through it, in his haste to 
 obey the summons of the trumpet, it becomes heroic. 
 Nicolo Poussin has almost exactly copied this finely- 
 conceived figure in his Sacrament of Baptism," but 
 there the action wants the motive that animates the 
 old soldier of Michael Angelo, and the translation of 
 the figure, bereft of so much of its meaning, cannot 
 be justified. 
 
 Instances may be selected from the works of 
 Titian, in which neither the expression nor the story 
 could be carried farther. His "Entombment of 
 Christ " in the Louvre, is a picture of the truest and 
 deepest pathos, and would be so even were it unaided 
 by its solemn evening effect. Nothing was ever con- 
 ceived finer than the Mother, supported by the Mag- 
 dalen, and contrasted by a difi'erent though equally 
 poignant expression of grief. 
 
 In a small picture by Titian, belonging to Mr. 
 Rogers, of the apparition of our Lord in the garden 
 to Mary, the treatment is scarcely below the subject, 
 even in the principal figure, — but the conception of 
 the Magdalen is beyond all praise. She seems to 
 run forward towards her Master on her knees, — her 
 streaming hair and drapery denoting the utmost 
 rapidity of action, while her hand, extended to touch 
 Him, is suddenly checked by His words. This is to 
 me by far the most expressive conception of the sub- 
 ject with which I am acquainted. 
 
IN VENTION AND EXPRESSION 1 1 7 
 
 The Venetian painters dealt much in allegory ; — 
 but in some instances their meaning is obscure ; and 
 of one of the finest subjects of this class by Titian 
 the key seems to be entirely lost. It is called, for 
 want, as I think, of the true name, " Sacred and Pro- 
 fane Love," and is a striking proof of what I have 
 insisted on — that the Poetry of Art is something 
 wholly independent on subject : for in this beautiful 
 work the Poetry is spread all over the canvas. 
 
 Had Titian intended the picture for what it is called, 
 I am confident that he would have felt no difficulty in 
 characterising the personifications more clearly. But 
 his meaning is more evident in a lesser work, the 
 " Ages of Human Life," in the possession of the Earl 
 of Ellesmere. — On the right of this picture two child- 
 ren are asleep close to a road (the road of Life). One 
 has been gathering flowers by the wayside, which are 
 dropping from his hands, while a third child, who 
 is the only one winged, is climbing the stem of a 
 withered tree. In the middle distance an old man 
 sits on the ground in deep meditation, with a skull 
 in each hand. Age has brought convictions that are 
 unthought of by a young shepherd and shepherdess in 
 the foreground. She is yet but little more than a 
 child, and the youth seems for the first time to regard 
 her with love, — while she, wholly unconscious of this, 
 looks innocently in his face. Nothing can be more 
 charming than the expression of this pair, though 
 they might have had more of personal beauty ; and I 
 remember when I first saw the picture I felt this as a 
 drawback, which has long ceased to be one with me, for 
 it is with pictures as in real life, — we cease to think 
 
1 1 8 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 of the absence of beauty in those with whom we have 
 become interested by long acquaintance. 
 
 In looking at such pictures, however, the allegory is 
 apt to be forgotten in the actors. In the fine Paul 
 Veronese, belonging to Mr. Hope, the painter has 
 represented himself between Virtue and Vice, and 
 choosing Virtue. Yet he looks back, and no wonder, 
 for Vice is beautiful to the eye, and the almost 
 invisible talons that he has placed at the ends of her 
 fingers do not interfere with the exact symmetry of 
 her hands and arms. Many other instances might 
 be mentioned of allegoric invention, in which the 
 moral intention, to say the least, is rendered nugatory 
 by the mode of treatment. And even where this is 
 not the case, we can hardly suppose that any man has 
 been made better because Hercules (on canvas) pre- 
 fers good to evil ; or less ambitious of worldly honours, 
 or less greedy of wealth, because a personification of 
 wisdom tramples crowns, and sceptres, and jewels, 
 under her feet. 
 
 The truth is, such subjects have probably been 
 rather chosen with a view to the picturesque than 
 with any very serious aim, by Paul Veronese and by 
 Rubens. The picturesque was, indeed, always upper- 
 most in the mind of the latter, when the choice of 
 his subject was left to him. In the autograph letter, 
 preserved at Cologne, he gives as a reason for selecting 
 the "Crucifixion of St. Peter" as an altar-piece for 
 the church in which he was christened, that the cir- 
 cumstance of the head of the Saint being downward 
 made a novel and fine incident for a picture. This is 
 the ruling principle also of his magnificent history of 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 119 
 
 Mary de Medicis, in a series of subjects which he was 
 fortunately allowed to treat entirely in his own way ; — 
 for, however our individual tastes may object to this 
 or that mode of treatment, it is best always that the 
 painter should do that which he can best do. When 
 Reynolds expressed great admiration of a style of 
 Art unlike his own, Northcote asked him why he did 
 not attempt it, — and the reply was, " A painter can- 
 not always do what he may wish, — he must content 
 himself with doing what he can." 
 
 But here I must notice the wide difference between 
 allegory, in the hands of Paul Veronese and of Ru- 
 bens, and the noble use to which it may be applied, 
 as in the example I have taken from Orcagna's 
 "Triumph of Death," where it is paramount, and so 
 simply and earnestly expressed as to be intelUgible 
 to every mind. 
 
 At present I say nothing of the powers of invention 
 and expression displayed by the Dutch and Flemish 
 painters, as I have devoted a section entirely to the 
 varied excellences of the great masters of these 
 schools. 
 
SECTION X 
 
 Invention and Expression 
 
 INSTANCES TAKEN FROM THE BRITISH SCHOOL 
 
 In invention and expression, the only master whose 
 works, taken altogether, I would compare with those 
 of Raphael, is Hogarth. Nor is the transition from 
 the one to the other so sudden as it may at first 
 sight appear. They were both pre-eminently the 
 painters of mankind, though the range of subject 
 they each took, and the peculiar patronage of Ra- 
 phael, and the no-patronage of Hogarth, made a wide 
 separation between them. Raphael has given us an 
 endless variety of images of all that is most dignified, 
 most pure, and most graceful in our nature, yet 
 never at the expense of probability ; while Hogarth, 
 the boldest satirist who ever held a pencil, has 
 deeply "sounded the base string of humility," and 
 by the exposure of vice illustrated virtue. Yet there 
 is a common ground on which they meet, — the wide 
 field of negative character. 
 
 Hogarth has been called "a writer of comedy 
 with the pencil," but there is as much of the deepest 
 tragedy in his works. Most of tiis subjects are 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 entirely of his own invention ; and in the story of 
 what may be called his dramas, he adheres more 
 closely to nature than the generality of even the best 
 dramatic writers. His profligates and villains never 
 reform unnaturally at the conclusion of the story, but 
 die as they have lived, villains and profligates; nor 
 are there to be found in his conceptions of character 
 any of those inconsistencies by which dramatic 
 authors appeal to the passing prejudices of the time, 
 or seek to propitiate a mixed multitude, — in the ma- 
 jority of which the moral taste is never of the highest 
 standard. He does not give his prodigals generous 
 and noble qualities, nor is trickery ever countenanced 
 in his stories by the practice of people he means to 
 represent as respectable. In truth, though the stage 
 seems to have suggested to him the species of Art of 
 which he may be considered the inventor, yet his 
 views of life were much too sound to allow him to 
 adopt the loose notions of stage morality. 
 
 Wit was ever at the point of his pencil, and his 
 humour is inexhaustible, and as rich as the humour of 
 Shakspeare himself. Extreme as are his incidents, 
 there is no exaggeration, and the enduring truth of 
 his representations of life is confirmed by the occur- 
 rences of every day. Some of his scenes, from 
 change of manners and fashions, may not be exactly 
 acted now, but his characters are eternal. He has 
 been charged with caricature, and the City volunteers 
 attending the Lord Mayor's Procession, the slight 
 etching called "France," and one or two other 
 instances from among his numerous productions, 
 may fairly be given up as caricature; but, taken 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 altogether, nothing can be more distinct than the 
 Art of Hogarth from that of the caricaturist — a 
 distinction which he has well pointed out in the 
 etching he pubhshed to refute the charge. 
 
 No painter whatever, and but few writers, have laid 
 bare the evil dispositions of human nature, and their 
 inevitable consequences, with such a mastery of illus- 
 tration. From his moral teaching there is no escape. 
 No palliation of vice will avail before him. Drunken- 
 ness cannot shelter itself under the mantle of good- 
 fellowship, nor lust assume the name of love. He has 
 traced wickedness and profligacy through all the 
 degrees of villainy, recklessness, passion, hypocrisy, 
 and cunning, cold, calculating selfishness. Yet, never 
 losing sight of Nature, he here and there shows us 
 touches of good, — and often, as in the world, where 
 we least expect it. The squat little servant in the 
 " Harlot's Progress " is not introduced merely by way 
 of contrast to the beauty of her mistress ; she is faith- 
 ful to her in adversity, and receives her last breath 
 while the doctors are quarrelling about their nostrums, 
 and the housemaid is robbing the dying woman. The 
 episode, in the " Rake's Progress," of the poor girl's 
 story to whom he has broken a promise of marriage, 
 is very touching. She offers her hard earnings to 
 release him when he is arrested for debt, — she follows 
 him to prison, and ministers to him in the last scene 
 of his wretched career, the mad-house. In the " Elec- 
 tion Dinner," also, in the midst of corruption and 
 disorder, a poor tailor steadily resists the bribe of a 
 handful of gold almost forced upon him, while his 
 masculine termagant wife threatens him with her ven- 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 123 
 
 geance for having a conscience; and in another of 
 the election pictures, the "Polling," the dignity of 
 human nature is supported by the maimed veteran who, 
 having lost both hands and a leg in the service of his 
 country, has contrived to place his hat reverently 
 under the stump of one arm, while he lays the hook 
 which serves him for a hand on the Bible. 
 
 It is clear from these and many other incidents of a 
 like kind spread through Hogarth's pictures, that had 
 he been a writer he never would have conceived Swift's 
 "Yahoos." His heart would not have allowed him, 
 much less his judgment — for he knew that in the degree 
 in which satire is exaggerated it always loses its power. 
 
 Walpole remarks that the severity of Hogarth's 
 satire is " tempered with benevolence ; " and his calling 
 our attention to the frequent union of virtue, not only 
 with the homely, but with the ridiculous, is among 
 the proofs of this. If he had not an elevated sense 
 of beauty, I know not any painter in whose works 
 so many extremely pretty female faces are to be found ; 
 and though they are often given to negative characters, 
 yet he could combine great beauty and delicacy of 
 feature with utter physiognomical depravity, as in some 
 of the women in the third plate of the " Rake's Pro- 
 gress." On the other hand, he has noticed that 
 great worthiness is often connected with the reverse of 
 beauty. The poor tailor I have mentioned, who at 
 the election dinner steadily resists a large bribe almost 
 forced on him, squints ; and so does the faithful servant 
 of the drunken freemason who conducts his master 
 home through the perils of the fifth of November. 
 The seamstress, also, who throughout the series of 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 the " Rake's Progress " forgets all the injuries of her 
 worthless seducer, and endeavours to alleviate his 
 miseries in a mad-house, has by no means so much 
 of personal beauty as Hogarth has bestowed on the 
 actress rehearsing the part of Juno, among the strollers, 
 in a barn,^ and on the Helen of his Southwark Fair," 
 who, as she beats her drum to collect an audience, 
 has attracted, without being apparently conscious of 
 it, not only the admiration, but the profound respect 
 of a couple of peasants, one of whom, as he walks by 
 her side with his eyes riveted to her face, dares not 
 put his hat on his head. 
 
 It has been erroneously stated that the picture of 
 " Southwark Fair was destroyed by fire. But it is in 
 the possession of the Duke of Newcastle, by whose 
 kindness the public have lately had an opportunity of 
 seeing it at the British Institution. It differs con- 
 siderably in effect of light and dark from the print, and 
 we see more distinctly in it what Hogarth intended as 
 the principal points. His was a genius that delighted 
 to touch, and knew how to touch, the master-chords 
 of human nature ; and, in the foreground groups of 
 this picture, the admiration of beauty by man, and 
 of valour by woman, are the things on which the chief 
 lights are thrown. A group, of which a young woman 
 is the principal, are gazing in wonderment at the prize- 
 fighter, who is just entering the scene with his bald 
 head uncovered to show the many wounds his skull 
 
 ^ The exquisite prettiness of this lady is only to be seen in 
 the first state of the plate. No admirer of Hogarth can be con- 
 tent without possessing all the variations of his engravings, and 
 to an artist the alterations he made in retouching them are full 
 of instruction. 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 125 
 
 has sustained. The simple but enthusiastic admiration 
 expressed in the face of the country girl for this grim 
 fellow baffles all attempt at description. The same 
 face in the print, though engraved by Hogarth himself, 
 conveys but a faint notion of that in the picture. 
 
 This girl and the fascinating drummeress, are 
 among the instances noticed by Coleridge in Hogarth, 
 of whom he says, " the satirist never extinguishes that 
 love of beauty which belonged to him as a poet, and 
 who often introduces a beautiful female as the central 
 figure in a crowd of humorous deformities ; which 
 figure, such is the power of true genius, neither acts 
 nor is meant to act as a contrast ; but diffuses through 
 all, and over each of the group, a spirit of recon- 
 ciliation and human kindness; and even when the 
 attention is no longer consciously directed to the cause 
 of this feeling, still blends its tenderness with our 
 laughter ; and thus prevents the instructive merriment 
 of the whims of Nature from degenerating into the 
 heart-poison of contempt or hatred." 
 
 Hogarth was a painter of Nature, in the highest 
 sense, as distinguished from a painter of matter-of-fact; 
 and that he did not aim at mere literal truth is shown 
 by many little circumstances in his pictures, — among 
 which may be mentioned the lightning pointed with 
 an arrow-head in the fourth print of the "Rake's 
 Progress." The barb is directed against a noted 
 gaming-house, in St. James's Street, and the expedient 
 is adopted to attract attention to its direction. Indeed, 
 close literal representations of many of his scenes 
 would be utterly intolerable ; and, therefore, as Field- 
 ing, an author with whom he had much in common. 
 
126 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 redeemed so coarse a subject as the history of a high- 
 wayman by a pecuUar treatment far from Hteral, and 
 by making it a vehicle of general satire, — so Hogarth 
 has dealt with the scenes of vice he exhibits, in which 
 the mind is perpetually carried away from what is 
 presented to the eye by general allusion, by wit, and 
 by humour. This will be at once understood if we 
 compare the spirit in which the election pictures are 
 conceived with the treatment of a subject by Bird 
 in the same collection — the Museum of Sir John 
 Soane. Bird's picture is a small one representing a 
 quarrel in an ale-house. It is a picture of great merit 
 (for Bird was considered a formidable rival to Wilkie), 
 extremely natural — indeed, painted to the life ; but 
 it does not rise even near to Hogarth's Art. It is 
 an exhibition of humanity in its most repulsive form, 
 with no redeeming touch of good ; and as it suggests 
 nothing beyond the mere subject, we are glad to 
 escape from it, and much the more for its literalness 
 — while the "Election Entertainment," though there 
 is violence and even death in it, detains us willingly. 
 In this picture the mayor, who is at the head of the 
 table, dies of repletion while still holding in his 
 hand a fork on which an oyster is impaled. In the 
 same spirit Fielding, in describing the death of Jona- 
 than Wild, instead of sickening the reader by graphic 
 details of an execution, dismisses his hero with a 
 corkscrew in his hand, which he tells us Jonathan 
 '''-carried out of the world with him^^^ having contrived, 
 notwithstanding his arms were pinioned, to pick it 
 from the pocket of the Ordinary. In the picture of 
 which I am speaking — one of the richest of all Hog- 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 127 
 
 arth's works — a clown in the foreground has got his 
 head broken for carrying a flag on which is written^ 
 " Give us our eleven days," — in allusion to the altera- 
 tion of the style by parliament, and by which the 
 people were led to suppose they were cheated out of 
 eleven days ; an admirable satire on the power pos- 
 sessed by demagogues over the populace. 
 
 The second picture of the " Election " series is a 
 charming composition. Hogarth has chosen the most 
 genial season of the year. The landlady of a country 
 inn is sitting at a door overshadowed by a grape-vine. 
 In a balcony above, two ladies are enjoying the fresh 
 air, and on the opposite side of the picture a cobbler 
 and a barber are discussing the siege of Portobello, 
 while taking a social pot and pipe together. The 
 whole scene is fraught with the elements of comfort 
 and peaceful enjoyment. But the demon of party has 
 entered it. Bribery is going on in the foreground, and 
 riot verging on rebellion in the middle distance, where 
 a mob is attacking a rival inn, and pulling down the 
 sign of the Crown. Nothing can be finer than the 
 contrasts in this picture. Immediately from the group 
 of rioters the eye falls on a peaceful farm-house, with 
 the blue smoke of its chimney curling up among the 
 trees that embosom it, and just beyond is the quiet 
 and happy-looking village that has sent out its ex- 
 cited inhabitants to the scene of outrage. 
 
 Tragedy and comedy are united by Hogarth with 
 the same truth to Nature, and the same relief of each 
 other by contrast, with which they are united by 
 Shakspeare. Thus, in the prison scene in the " Rake's 
 Progress," where the foreground groups present 
 
128 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 nothing but misery, and the infuriated wife of the 
 spendthrift is in the act of striking her wretched hus- 
 band, while the poor woman whom in early life he 
 had ruined, and who has followed him to prison, is 
 in a fit, — an open space between these groups shows 
 us the figure of an alchemist, tranquilly engaged with 
 his furnace and crucibles, whose deep and quiet ab- 
 straction is of the highest value in the way of relief, 
 and so likewise is the introduction of the poor author, 
 who is helping to recover the fainting woman, while 
 his scheme for paying the debts of the nation drops 
 from his hand. I need not point out the admirable 
 and exquisitely humorous contrasts of physiognomy 
 throughout his pictures, a principle that escaped the 
 Dutch painters, with the exception of Jan Steen. 
 
 In the treatment of accessories, Hogarth stands 
 alone. How much of meaning and of humour is there 
 in the display of the articles purchased at auction by 
 Lady Squanderfield from the collection of Sir Timothy 
 Babyhouse, and with which her negro page is amusing 
 himself ! ^ The collection of hats, also, on the floor 
 in the second plate to the "Analysis of Beauty," how 
 comical and how full of character it is ! We fancy a 
 face to every hat. 
 
 The ingenuity with which he often makes the most 
 apparently trifling objects in his pictures tell a story 
 or suggest a moral, and frequently in the obscurest 
 corners of his compositions, is equally without a 
 parallel Indeed, after we have made ourselves ac- 
 quainted with all his leading incidents, there is 
 
 ^ Walpole, who, though he relished Hogarth's wit, was not 
 altogether satisfied with him, does not notice these. 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 129 
 
 scarcely one of his pictures in which, if we search 
 diligently, we shall not find latent touches of the 
 highest relish — small objects serving a double and 
 sometimes a treble purpose. In the marriage scene 
 in the " Rake's Progress," in which the hero, having 
 dissipated his patrimony, appears at the altar with an 
 ancient heiress, we are shown the interior of Old 
 Marylebone Church, at that time standing in an out- 
 of-the-way part of the suburbs, and therefore resorted 
 to for stolen marriages, or marriages of which either 
 of the parties had any reason to be ashamed. The 
 church, a very small one, is in a neglected condition, 
 and cracks in the walls, mildew, and cobwebs, would 
 occur to an ordinary painter ; but Hogarth has shown 
 a fracture running through the table of the Command- 
 ments — the Creed is defaced by damp, and he has 
 placed a cobweb over the opening in the charity box. 
 Again, an empty phial, labelled " laudanum " lies at 
 the feet of the expiring viscountess in the last scene 
 of the "Marriage k-la-Mode;" but this was not 
 enough, he has placed close to it the "last dying 
 speech of Counsellor Silver-Tongue," suggesting that 
 it was the death of her lover and not of her husband 
 that caused her to swallow poison. 
 
 His ingenuity is endless in the expression of what- 
 ever he wishes to convey. In the din of street noises, 
 which his enraged musician tries in vain to shut out 
 of his ears, he unites the sounds of a dustman's bell, 
 a ballad- singer, a hautboy -player, a knife-grinder, a 
 paviour, etc. Not far off is the sign of a pewterer, and 
 then, in the distance, he shows us that the church bells 
 are ringing, by the flag that waves from the steeple. 
 
 K 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 There is no surer test of a painter's feeling for 
 Nature than the manner in which he represents child- 
 hood. In Hogarth v/e often find the same charm, 
 arising from its want of sympathy with grown-up life, 
 that I have noticed in the works of Raphael. The 
 Boy Mourner, in the picture of the " Harlot's Funeral," 
 winding up his top, "the only person in that assem- 
 bly," as Lamb remarks, "that is not a hypocrite," is an 
 instance of this, and so is the same boy in the pre- 
 ceding picture, the dying scene. The pretty little girl 
 in the "Election Entertainment," who is examining 
 the ring on the fine gentleman's finger, and the two 
 little urchins creeping slowly to school, through Covent 
 Garden Market, their very short footsteps marked in 
 the snow, in his picture of " Morning," are also ex- 
 quisite specimens of childhood. 
 
 There is a charming picture by Hogarth at Holland 
 House, in which children are the principal personages. 
 It represents the private performance of a play at the 
 house of Mr. Conduit, the Master of the Mint, before 
 the Duke of Cumberland and a few other people of 
 rank and fashion. Three girls and a boy are on the 
 stage, and seem to be very seriously doing their best ; 
 but the attitude and expression of one little girl, on a 
 front seat among the audience, is matchless. She is so 
 entirely absorbed in the performance, that she sits bolt 
 upright, and will sit, we are sure, immovably, to the 
 end of the play, enjoying it as a child only can, and 
 much the more because the actors are children. — The 
 picture is beautifully coloured, and is one of those 
 early works painted from Nature, the execution of 
 which prepared the way to Hogarth's greater efforts. 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 131 
 
 Connected with his love of children, may be 
 noticed the interest he took in the establishment of 
 the FoundHng Hospital, to the funds of which he con- 
 tributed, by giving three pictures, which, with the 
 works of other artists, formed the first public exhibi- 
 tion in London. His fine portrait of Captain Coram 
 was one of these ; but his choice of the " March to 
 Finchley," a satire on the vices of the army, as a sub- 
 ject for an hospital of foundlings, was a touch of 
 humorous satire. 
 
 So difficult is it, and in many cases so impossible, 
 for a painter to explain his entire meaning on canvas, 
 that it is to be regretted Hogarth did not leave a 
 written key to his stories, in which, in a very few 
 words, he might have guarded against all doubt as to 
 the more important passages in them, that are involved 
 in obscurity; which, after all, are very much fewer 
 than might have been expected in narratives so rich 
 in incident. The third picture of the series of the 
 " Marriage a-la-Mode" is the one which has, more than 
 any other of his works, puzzled his commentators. For 
 my own part, I cannot but think that it has a deeper 
 meaning than has generally been supposed. I believe 
 the expression of the elder female to be that of jealousy. 
 On no other ground can her furiously-vindictive look 
 be accounted for. The indignation of the viscount is 
 directed against the quack only, for he would not lift 
 his cane to a woman. She is still in the prime of 
 life, and with a face which, though now distorted with 
 passion, we may imagine, in a calmer mood, to be 
 handsome. The clasp-knife, which she holds out of 
 sight, is intended for her rival, and Hogarth, as I 
 
132 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 think, meant to show how vices that the world con- 
 siders as comparatively venial often lead to the blackest 
 crimes. 
 
 Hazlitt has certainly mistaken the painter's mean- 
 ing in the young girl, the object, as I believe, of this 
 woman's rage. He says — "Nothing can be more 
 striking than the contrast between the extreme soft- 
 ness of her person and the hardened indifference of 
 her character." The truth is, she is a child, not har- 
 dened by vice, for she is too young, but the victim to 
 a refinement in infamy imported from France, and of 
 which the then reigning sovereign set the example. 
 There can be little doubt but the quack, who is a 
 Frenchman, is the pimp in this case, and, viewing the 
 subject in this light, the story seems to me to be quite 
 clear. Hogarth saw with honest indignation how 
 much more readily the fashionable world of England 
 has always adopted the corruption of the Continental 
 countries rather than their refinements or their vir- 
 tues, — and he never lost an opportunity of exposing 
 this base species of imitation. 
 
 I fancy I see much more in this poor child than 
 "docility to vice." The finery with which she has 
 been loaded, like a victim for sacrifice, is evidently 
 that of some elder predecessor, for the dress she wears 
 is much too long for her. This child, and that of 
 the viscountess herself, in the last picture, are alike, 
 though in different ways, — intended to show the irre- 
 parable evils so often inflicted on the innocent by the 
 thoughtlessness of the vicious. The iron on the leg 
 of the little girl in the last picture tells a sad tale of 
 inherited infirmity and neglect. 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 133 
 
 And yet Hogarth, who painted these things, has 
 been charged with prostituting his Art at the sugges- 
 tion of a vicious patron, though it has been added 
 that he afterwards repented having done so. The 
 latter assertion cannot, however, be true, for he not 
 only published engravings of the only two of his pic- 
 tures considered objectionable, — but when the plates 
 were worn he retouched them, and continued to sell 
 the impressions to the end of his life. 
 
 That Hogarth, the uncompromising satirist of the 
 vices of all classes, who lashed the old masters for 
 appealing to the passions in subjects taken from the 
 scandalous chronicle of Olympus — that Hogarth, manly 
 and thoroughly English as was his nature, should thus 
 desecrate his Art, would involve a degree of inconsis- 
 tency, from the charge of which I should be glad to 
 relieve his memory ; and I think this may be done, 
 though I am aware that in attempting it I am ventur- 
 ing on hazardous ground. 
 
 The pictures in question tell a tale, as I think, of 
 seduction and desertion, in a manner far more cal- 
 culated to excite compassion for the victim, and de- 
 testation for her betrayer, than any feeling of levity, 
 and, indeed, with much less of grossness, as the com- 
 mentators on them acknowledge, than may be found 
 in many of his other works against the tendency of 
 which no objection has ever been made. If his mode 
 of treating these subjects, his mode, indeed, of treating 
 all, is one which would not be tolerated in the present 
 state of taste, I can only say that the taste of the 
 present age tolerates very much in Art that is, in 
 reality, far more objectionable. He shows us, in these 
 
134 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 pictures, that the mind of a young woman religiously 
 brought up has been corrupted, previous to her ruin, 
 by licentious books that have, no doubt, been fur- 
 nished to her for that purpose ; for in her table-drawer 
 a Prayer-book and " The Practice of Piety are mixed 
 with books of an immoral tendency. In the first 
 picture the falling looking-glass is very significant; 
 its surface is bright and without a flaw, — in the second 
 it lies on the ground in fragments. Here she is in 
 tears, and evidently imploring that she may not be 
 deserted, — while it is as evident from the countenance 
 of her seducer that she has little to hope from his 
 honour — he thinks of nothing but himself There are 
 touches of humour in these as in all Hogarth's works ; 
 but the impression they make is a very sad one, and I 
 have not a doubt they were painted as well with the 
 intention of warning the innocent against danger, as of 
 awakening remorse in the guilty. 
 
 The failure of Hogarth in subjects from Sacred 
 History has been sufficiently dwelt on ; yet it must 
 be remarked (and fully admitting his failure) that even 
 in these he has touches which distinguish them from 
 the productions of commonplace minds. In the 
 "Pool of Bethesda," a rich woman is waiting to be 
 healed, while her sen. ant drives a poor one away ; 
 and in the " Moses before Pharaoh's Daughter," the 
 child clings to his mother's girdle, who is about to be 
 discharged after having performed the office of his 
 nurse. She is receiving her wages, which the treasurer 
 disburses somewhat unwillingly; while the mother 
 thinks much less of the money than of parting with 
 her child ; and her tears show how unfounded are the 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 insinuations which a black slave, who stands behind 
 the princess, is whispering against his mistress into 
 the ears of an astonished attendant. If such a treat- 
 ment be considered as below the dignity of serious 
 history, it must, at any rate, be admitted to be in 
 strict conformity with Nature. 
 
 Hogarth, it is true, is often gross ; but it must be 
 remembered that he painted in a less fastidious age 
 than ours, and that his great object was to expose 
 vice. Debauchery is always made by him detestable, 
 never attractive. He is not, it must be owned, a 
 ladies^ painter, — for ladies, fortunately for themselves, 
 know nothing of the life which he chiefly satirised. 
 But it is no sign of a healthy masculine taste to object 
 to what Lamb denominates his " strong meat for men." 
 
 It must seem, to those who are not intimately 
 acquainted with the history of British Art, almost 
 incredible that he could scarcely sell his matchless 
 pictures at the lowest prices, and that his first eulogist 
 among people of fashion, Horace Walpole, denied his 
 merit as a painter. Walpole begins his account by 
 speaking of Hogarth as one whom he chose to con- 
 sider "rather as a writer of comedy with the pencil 
 than as a painter," and throughout his essay he con- 
 tinues invariably to call him " this author ^ A Rev. 
 Mr. Gilpin, also writing near the time of Hogarth, 
 represents him as ignorant of composition. I doubt, 
 indeed, whether his entire excellence was fully felt by 
 the public until his works were collected in 1814, 
 and exhibited at the Gallery of the British Institution. 
 
 It was then seen how great a master he was in all 
 respects. How completely he bent the Art to his 
 
136 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 will ; and, though alive to all the beauties of Painting, 
 and rarely neglecting them, yet how steadily he kept 
 in view the true end of Art — in no case ever permit- 
 ting a minor excellence in any way to interfere with 
 his story or expression. The purity of his colour 
 was then acknowledged, as well as that zest of execu- 
 tion which tells us that painting was far more a plea- 
 sure than a labour to him. It is only in the later 
 pictures of Jan Steen that I have seen faces so full of 
 life and expression, and yet so slightly touched, as 
 are many of Hogarth's. — The execution of his " Rake's 
 Progress," for instance, would be in many parts un- 
 satisfactory, were it not for the completeness with 
 which his meaning is always expressed. As an in- 
 stance of what he could do by the fewest possible 
 touches, I would mention the brawny arm of the 
 woman in the first picture of the " Rake's Progress," 
 who refuses the handful of money offered to her 
 daughter. 
 
 But it is time to speak of other eminent men of 
 our school. 
 
 With no artist of powers as great as those of 
 Fuseli were those powers confined within so narrow a 
 circle ; but within that circle he has expressed the 
 terror and the evanescence of the world of phantoms, 
 with a power unequalled by any painter that ever 
 lived. Perhaps the finest of all his works is the 
 "Sin and Death;" and in this he has done that 
 which, had he not done it, we might have thought 
 impossible — he has embodied Milton's words : — 
 
 What seemed his head the likeness of a kingly crown had 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 137 
 
 In the " Satan " of Sir Thomas Lawrence (the worst 
 portrait he ever painted), all is so material as to be 
 wholly unnatural with reference to the subject. The 
 body and limbs of the fiend are as solid as the shaft 
 of the spear he holds ; and the helmet, sword, and 
 shield seem borrowed from the property-room of a 
 theatre. In the " Sin and Death " of Fuseli there are 
 a ponderous key (the key of the gates of Hell) and a 
 chain. But they are forged by no earthly smith, and 
 are not otherwise thought of by the spectator than as 
 parts of a terrible vision. 
 
 If what I have said of his Art may be thought to 
 contradict my urging the necessity of the study of 
 Nature to the imaginative painter, I would remark 
 that he was profoundly acquainted with all in Nature 
 that could help his conceptions of the visionary. He 
 was a perfect master of chiaroscuro and of the evanes- 
 cence of colour, and he possessed such a competent 
 knowledge of the anatomical structure of the human 
 figure, as to be able to give ideal probability to 
 attitudes in which it was impossible he could be 
 helped by living models. Hence, he could also give 
 to his ghosts that general and uncertain look that 
 belongs to shadowy beings, without the omission of the 
 leading characteristics of form ; and his breadth, to 
 borrow an expression of his own, is never " emptiness." 
 Fuseli, therefore, was as much indebted to the know- 
 ledge of Nature for his power in the visionary as 
 to his imagination ; and it was in a great measure the 
 want of such knowledge that rendered the Art of 
 Blake abortive. Everybody can laugh at the extrava- 
 gances that so often disfigure the works of Fuseli. 
 
138 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 But it would require eloquence equal to his own to do 
 justice to his finest things ; and, in spite of his great 
 faults, I cannot but look on him as a great genius, 
 a genius of whom the age in which he lived was 
 unworthy. 
 
 A striking peculiarity of the British School, in its 
 most palmy days, is the remarkable diversity of powers 
 into which it branched. When we turn from Fuseli 
 to Stothard, it is difficult to believe that Art so con- 
 trasted as theirs should have been contemporaneous. 
 In nothing were these two extraordinary men alike, 
 save in being extraordinary. Far more apart than 
 Michael Angelo and Raphael, the difference was 
 increased rather by the distance of Fuseli from 
 Michael Angelo, than by that between Stothard and 
 Raphael. 
 
 For more than half a century Stothard was engaged 
 in illustrating not only the contemporary literature 
 of his country, but the works of her best poets, from 
 the time of Chaucer to his own ; his employers, with 
 the exception occasionally of the goldsmiths, being 
 the booksellers. By these he was engaged in every 
 species of composition, from illustrations of Homer 
 and Shakspeare, to designs for spelling-books and 
 pocket almanacs, fashions for the Ladies^ Magazine^ 
 portraits of popular actors and actresses, in character, 
 as well as other subjects of the day, such as " Balls 
 at St. James's,'^ — "The Employments of the Royal 
 Family," — "The King going out with the Fox- 
 Hounds," etc. ; and numbers of his early designs are 
 from novels and poems, the very names of which are 
 now only preserved in his beautiful Art. By the 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 139 
 
 goldsmiths he was employed in designing ornaments 
 for plate, from the Wellington Shield to spoon- 
 handles for George IV. 
 
 The species of his employment formed his style, 
 which, resulting from the haste required by tradesmen, 
 appeared slight and unsubstantial by the side of the 
 pictures of artists who were enabled to give more 
 time to their productions. His practice, also, limited 
 the size of his works; and with people, therefore, 
 who jiidge of pictures, in any degree, by the space 
 they occupy on the walls of galleries, or the quantity 
 of minute detail within that space, Stothard will rank 
 as a painter of minor importance; while all who 
 estimate Art by the soul that lives in it, will place 
 him with the very few painters who have possessed 
 imaginations of the highest order, and have yet 
 restrained themselves from overstepping "the modesty 
 of Nature." 
 
 It must, however, be acknowledged, that it is in his 
 smallest pictures and drawings only that we feel there 
 is nothing more to be desired; — when he repeated 
 his subjects on a larger scale, which he sometimes 
 did for the Exhibition, they have in general too 
 much the character of magnified sketches. This 
 may have made him say, near the close of his Hfe, 
 "I feel that I have not done what I might have 
 done." Yet, perhaps, this is the feehng at last of 
 every painter. 
 
 It is scarcely possible but that among the thou- 
 sands of Stothard's productions repetitions of himself 
 should not occur ; nor that he should not occasionally 
 have adopted ideas suggested by the Antique or by 
 
I40 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 the old masters. He not seldom reminds us of 
 Raphael, often of Rubens, and often of Watteau ; — 
 but he does so as one worthy to rank with them, and 
 as they remind us of their predecessors. Yet his 
 works will bear the deduction of every such instance 
 of imitation, and of every repetition of himself, and 
 we shall be surprised to see how much of the most 
 beautiful original imagery will remain. His designs 
 for the "Novelist's Library" remind us of no other 
 painter. In these, all is direct from Nature, — and as 
 many of the novels in this collection were not very 
 fir in date from his own time, he gave the dresses 
 of his day and the style of furniture. 
 
 These charming works gained him first the admira- 
 tion and then the friendship of Flaxman ; for, on see- 
 ing one of them in a shop-window, the great sculptor 
 determined to make the acquaintance of an artist 
 with whose taste his own was so nearly allied. In 
 Stothard's illustrations of the "Pilgrim's Progress," 
 sixteen in number, there are images of holiness, of 
 purity, and of childlike innocence, worthy of that 
 beautiful poem, and they are as graceful to the eye 
 as to the mind, the Art entirely aiding the sentiment. 
 The one from among them which I should select as 
 peculiarly an effusion of his own mind, for I can see 
 in it no resemblance to any other painter, is that in 
 which Christian is received by Discretion, Prudence, 
 Piety, and Charity, into the Palace Beautiful. Another 
 series ot his designs, and which, though quite distinct 
 from these, is evidently one in which he took great 
 delight, is from " Robinson Crusoe ; " and in looking 
 at some of these, one is almost more impressed with 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 141 
 
 the solitude of the shipwrecked man than in reading 
 the book. 
 
 This is peculiarly the case in the plate in which 
 Crusoe wanders listlessly through a wood with a gun 
 on each shoulder, and attended by his dog; while, 
 from among those, from that part of the story in 
 which he is no longer solitary, I should select, as the 
 finest in expression, the conversation between him 
 and the young Roman Catholic priest, in which the 
 latter impresses on him the importance of religious 
 instruction to his little colony. 
 
 It was remarked by Stothard that there was nothing 
 more difficult than to paint people doing nothing. In 
 his picture of a procession of the girls of the Masonic 
 Charity School,^ he has encountered this difficulty, 
 and when it is considered that he was obliged to 
 make portraits, and, therefore, show the faces of all 
 the nearest figures, he has overcome it with wonder- 
 ful skill ; and it was the straightforward simplicity and 
 unaffectedness of his nature that led him to this 
 triumph ; and enabled him to make it one of the most 
 original and interesting pictures ever painted. It may 
 be said he has merely painted the facts of the subject ; 
 and it is his greatest praise that he has done this, for 
 a less natural painter would have spoilt it by embel- 
 lishment. 
 
 Stothard's humour is as true and as dehcate as that 
 of Addison. His illustrations of the " Spectator " are 
 therefore perfect ; but the picture in which he has dis- 
 
 1 In the possession of Miss Burdett Coutts. There is an in- 
 different engraving of it by Bartolozzi, from which the picture 
 cannot be judged. 
 
142 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 played the most of discrimination of character is his 
 '^Canterbury Pilgrims." The personages of Chaucer 
 all seem to pass before our eyes as if they were shown 
 to us by a painter contemporary with the poet. If 
 one has less of the real character than the rest, it is 
 perhaps the Wife of Bath." She seems too young 
 and too graceful for the merry dame who had buried 
 five husbands. Yet he has well contrived to make it 
 evident that her talk and laugh are loud, by their 
 attracting the attention of those who are riding before 
 and behind her, as well as of the persons closest to 
 her. 
 
 His constant friend, the venerable author of the 
 " Pleasures of Memory," possesses many of the finest 
 of his works, and delights in pointing out the refine- 
 ments of expression with which they abound. Among 
 them is a vignette drawing of the Turk who, in the 
 Arabian story, sees his turban, the folds of which con- 
 tain his money, carried away by a kite. The be- 
 wildered Mussulman claps his hand on his bald head, 
 as if the evidence of one sense were not sufficient to 
 assure him of his loss. In a design, the subject of 
 which is Gil Bias attending his master, the Canon, at 
 dinner, Mr. Rogers noticed to me that the old epicure, 
 while putting a spoonful of soup into his mouth, is 
 devouring with his eyes a dish which Gil Bias is about 
 to place on the table. 
 
 Like Hogarth, Stothard rarely had recourse to the 
 model in Painting. The minds of both were so com- 
 pletely filled with a store of imagery collected imme- 
 diately from Nature, and so vividly was this store 
 preserved, that they could at will select and embody 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 143 
 
 on canvas whatever was most appropriate to the 
 subject in hand. The operation of Painting is always 
 an exercise of memory, — for even with a model in 
 the room, the transfer of what the painter sees is but 
 a recollection, and the difference between those who 
 can only paint with models at hand, and those who, 
 like Hogarth and Stothard, and many, no doubt, 
 among the old masters (of whom Michael Angelo 
 must certainly have been one), can draw on the stores 
 of their minds for their models, — the difference be- 
 tween such is only that the latter class have the power 
 of retaining images longer in their memories than 
 others — a power no doubt in a great degree to be 
 acquired. Hogarth tells us that he set himself to 
 acquire it, — and he certainly did so to an extraordinary 
 extent. He belonged to a very different class of 
 painters from those who sit at home and consult en- 
 gravings, or their copies of pictures, for precedents. 
 His habits seem to have been anything but seden- 
 tary, — and I know that Stothard's were not. When 
 not engaged at his easel, his time was almost always 
 spent in long walks through the streets and suburbs 
 of London. In the summer he was fond of country 
 excursions ; and for one entire summer, as I have heard 
 him say, he and one or two companions lived in a 
 tent, on the banks of the Medway,^ where they hired 
 a boat and spent days in sailing. 
 
 While speaking of the English School I must not 
 omit to notice a truly original genius, who, though not 
 a painter, was an artist of the highest order in his 
 
 1 In Mr. Bray's Life of Stothard," there is an engraving of 
 this tent from a drawing by Stothard. 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 way — Thomas Bewick, the admirable designer and 
 engraver on wood. His works, indeed, are of the 
 smallest dimensions, but this makes it only the more 
 surprising that so much of interest could be comprised 
 within such little spaces. The woodcuts that illustrate 
 his books of natural history may be studied with 
 advantage by the most ambitious votary of the highest 
 classes of Art — filled as they are with the truest feel- 
 ing for Nature, and though often representing the 
 most ordinary objects, yet never, in a single in- 
 stance, degenerating into commonplace. The charm- 
 ing vignettes that ornament these books abound in 
 incidents from real life, diversified by genuine humour, 
 as well as by the truest pathos, — of which the single 
 figure of a shipwrecked sailor saying his prayers 
 on a rock, with the waves rising around him, is an 
 instance. 
 
 There is often in these little things a deep meaning 
 that places his Art on a level with styles which the 
 world is apt to consider as greatly above it, in proof 
 of which I would mention the party of boys playing 
 at soldiers among graves, and mounted on a row 
 of upright tombstones for horses; while for quaint 
 humour, extracted from a very simple source, may be 
 noticed a procession of geese which have just waddled 
 through a stream, while their line of march is con- 
 tinued by a row of stepping-stones. 
 
 The student of Landscape can never consult the 
 works of Bewick without improvement. The back- 
 grounds to the figures of his quadrupeds and his birds, 
 and his vignettes, have a charm of Nature quite his 
 own. He gives us in these, every season of the year, 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 145 
 
 and his trees, whether in the clothing of summer, or 
 m the nakedness of winter, are the trees of an artist 
 bred in the country. He is equally true in his little 
 home scenes, his farm-yards and cottages, as in his 
 wild coast scenery with flocks of sea-birds wheeling 
 round the rocks. In one of these subjects there 
 stands a ruined church towards which the sea has 
 encroached, the rising tide threatening to submerge a 
 tombstone raised "to perpetuate the memory," etc. 
 
 Bewick resembles Hogarth in this, that his illustra- 
 tions of the stories of others are not to be compared 
 with his own inventions. His feeling for the beauties 
 of Nature as they were impressed on him directly, and 
 not at second-hand, is akin to the feeling of Burns, 
 and his own designs remind me, therefore, much 
 more of Burns than the few which he made from the 
 Poet. 
 
 In another place I have spoken of the "Death of 
 Rizzio " as Opie's greatest work. If in this singularly 
 fine picture the painter has not paid that attention to 
 exactness of costume that would have been given to 
 such a subject in the present antiquarian age, nothing 
 can surpass the life and energy with which he has 
 brought the dreadful scene before us. We hear the 
 wretched victim, through whose silken coat his back 
 seems to writhe and tremble, cry for mercy above the 
 shouts of his murderers and the rattle of their armour, 
 while the small white hand of the queen is extended, 
 among their brawny arms and flashing swords, in a 
 yam effort to stay them. The suddenness of the action 
 IS aided by fierce and abrupt gleams of light and 
 tremendous depth of shadow; and the grandeur of 
 
146 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 the colour, and the breadth and truth of the whole 
 picture, even had it no other merit, would worthily 
 place it with the finest works of Tintoret. 
 
 Sir George Beaumont, who had possessed himself 
 of Hogarth's mahl-stick, determined to keep it till a 
 painter should appear worthy to receive it; and he 
 kept it till he saw "The Village Politicians" of 
 Wilkie. Sir George, who had been insensible to the 
 extent and variety of Stothard's powers, hailed with 
 great delight the far more matter-of-fact style of the 
 young Scot. 
 
 Inferior as a colourist to Hogarth, and with in- 
 finitely less of imagination, Wilkie was still a truly 
 great painter. 
 
 No better example can be pointed out to the 
 student than that of the industry, the patience, and 
 the devotion to Art recorded in the history of his 
 studies ; — how he moved on, as his biographer says, 
 "like the sunbeam on the wall, slowly a?id brightly. 
 The change in his style, from the delicate finish of 
 his small works, to the more general treatment of 
 subjects on a large scale, was lamented by his 
 admirers. It was a change, however, he was obliged 
 to make, because his health no longer permitted that 
 attention to minute detail which he had carried so 
 very far. But the public is a hard taskmaster, and 
 particularly to its favourites, — and it did not willingly 
 forgive the alteration. Yet in the latter years of his 
 Hfe he produced some very great works, works which, 
 could they have been exhibited with a new name, 
 might perhaps have been more justly treated than 
 they were by the critics of the day; — such as the 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 147 
 
 "Preaching of John Knox," the "Columbus," and 
 the "Interview between Pius the Seventh and Na- 
 poleon." The masterly sketches made in those 
 countries from which he was not destined to return 
 show how actively (too actively indeed) his fine mind 
 had been engaged to the very last. Among them I 
 remember one of the most fascinating representations 
 of childhood I ever beheld,-the young daughter of 
 Admiral Walker in an Eastern dress. It was as 
 beautiful as anything of Reynolds or Gainsborough, 
 and yet quite unlike either. 
 
 I believe all opinions will concur in placing Wilkie's 
 subjects from familiar and rustic life, with few excep- 
 tions, highest among his works. Such were the pic- 
 tures that first made his reputation,— « The Village 
 Politicians," "The Blind Fiddler," "The Rent Day" 
 "Duncan Gray," etc.-Of this class, however, the 
 most elaborately painted, and the fullest in subject 
 "The Village Festival," in the National Gallery, is 
 certainly not the one to which I should give the 
 preference. For though that exquisite delicacy of 
 touch which marks, more or less, every period of 
 his art, IS here seen in the greatest perfection, yet 
 the picture seems to me, in all respects, the most 
 artificial of his earlier productions. That it gave 
 him great trouble, is evident from the account of its 
 progress in his diary. 
 
 Among his scenes from domestic life, the two finest 
 appear to me to be "The Penny Wedding" and the 
 Distraining for Rent," subjects displaying the most 
 varied powers. "The Penny Wedding" is equal to 
 the 'Hallow-e'en" of Burns, or the inimitable de- 
 
148 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 scription of rustic life in the "Twa Dogs." The joy- 
 ousness and activity with which the reel is going on to 
 the music of Neil Gow, — the simple feasting in the 
 background, where the grace is not forgotten,— and 
 the satisfaction with which the Howdie, an important 
 personage on such occasions, and the village doctor 
 regard the scene, are matchless, and in a manner as 
 far above all commonplace or vulgarity as it is free 
 from anything of over-refinement. Wilkie in such 
 subjects seems as if he were guided by the precept 
 of Polonius — "Be thou familiar, but by no means 
 vulgar." But in truth he was guided by his own 
 gentility of nature. 
 
 We feel, in looking at this picture, as we feel in 
 reading the poems of Burns to which I have com- 
 pared it, — that such scenes can only be described by 
 a painter or a poet born and bred north of the Tweed. 
 This is a merit, and a sterling one it is, of Wilkie's 
 two subjects from Allan Ramsay's "Gentle Shep- 
 herd ; " and which, notwithstanding a want of beauty 
 in the female figures, make us regret that he had not 
 painted more from the poetry of Scotland. An artist 
 is always the better for being national. 
 
 The picture which I believe would be selected by 
 painters from among all his works as the most per- 
 fect specimen of his art, is that of the "Whiskey 
 Still," painted for Sir Willoughby Gordon. It is an 
 extremely simple composition, containing but three 
 figures. An old Highlander is holding up a glass of 
 whiskey to the light, and seems to be smacking his 
 lips with the relish of a perfect connoisseur, while a 
 boy is pouring some of the spirit into a jug, and a 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 149 
 
 man in the background is looking toward the High- 
 lander. Not only in character, but in the entire treat- 
 ment, in colour and execution, this masterly work 
 leaves nothing to be desired. 
 
 With much less truth of colour, his " Distraining for 
 Rent displays dramatic powers of the very highest 
 order. Of a picture so well known by Raimbach's 
 fine engraving, I need say little ; and, indeed, I know 
 not how to say anything of its pathos that would not 
 fall very far short of its impression. But I cannot 
 help noticing the admirable manner in which Wilkie 
 has introduced one of the subordinate figures, the 
 man employed in writing an inventory of the furni- 
 ture. The consciousness of being a thoroughly un- 
 welcome visitor is shown in every circumstance con- 
 nected with this figure. He seems desirous of 
 occupying the smallest possible space. He has 
 seated himself on the corner of the bedstead, and 
 deposited his hat between that and his feet. He 
 writes on a book held on his knees, and from an ink- 
 stand held in his hand, not venturing to ask for any 
 more convenient mode of proceeding with what he has 
 to do. The sheriff's officer is equally good. He 
 withstands the storms of threats and reproaches with 
 which he is assailed by the relations of the distressed 
 family, and though he grasps his cudgel firmly, he 
 keeps it somewhat out of sight, and depends more on 
 the writ he holds in his other hand for protection. 
 How true to Nature is the dog, too, that has taken 
 refuge under his master's chair, and looks out from 
 between his legs with great dissatisfaction towards 
 the strangers whom he dares not attack. And then 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 the two women — neighbours, near the door ; the one 
 silent and affected by the scene, the other a gossip 
 who has left her own affairs to see what is going on 
 elsewhere. She has the key of her house in her 
 hand. 
 
 The picture Wilkie painted for the Duke of Wel- 
 lington, for skill in composition, and delicate comple- 
 tion of detail, is one of his prominent works ; and 
 though the subject afforded far less scope than many 
 of his others for dramatic power, there is not in the 
 Art a finer touch of expression than that of the 
 anxious face of the woman overlooking the old pen- 
 sioner who reads to his companions the first news of 
 the Battle of Waterloo. The contrast of this single 
 face to all the others that surround the reader is, 
 indeed, a master-stroke. 
 
 When the condition of Wilkie's health no longer 
 allowed him to continue the elaborate finish that he 
 had carried so far, and he adopted a more generalised 
 mode of execution, the change was lamented, and it 
 became the fashion to compare his latest works dis- 
 advantageously, and often unjustly, with those before 
 he made this change. But many great things were 
 the fruit of his later years. The contest between 
 Napoleon and Pius VII. is a noble historical picture. 
 The two unyielding men are admirably contrasted, 
 and the disappointment of the Emperor at finding an 
 obstacle to his wishes, in the mind of the Pope, 
 which seldom was an obstacle in his own mind to 
 anything he wished, namely, conscience, — as well as 
 the determination of his character, is expressed not 
 only in his face, but in his figure from head to foot. 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 1 5 1 
 
 It has been objected that he would not have worn his 
 hat in the presence of the Pope. But instances are 
 on record of disrespect shown by him to crowned 
 heads, that fully justify Wilkie in placing the hat 
 where it is. 
 
 Among the great painters of whom I have been 
 speaking, it may be noticed that Stothard and Wilkie 
 were both students, and very assiduous students, of 
 the Royal Academy. Flaxman, Chantrey, Turner, 
 Constable, Jackson, Haydon, and Etty, also learned 
 all that an Academy could teach them within the 
 walls of Somerset House. 
 
 I mention these facts, because Academies are some- 
 times compared to Colleges, and the inference is, that 
 as Colleges can do little towards producing Poets, 
 Academies can do little towards producing Painters. 
 It should be remembered, however, that Poetry makes 
 use of the language that is common to all, and 
 though the refinements of that language may not be 
 acquired without books, yet books are not confined 
 to Colleges. The Painter, the Sculptor, and the Archi- 
 tect, on the other hand, have to acquire the mastery 
 of a language of their own, involving many studies 
 and much mechanical practice. These can only be 
 acquired in a school, and under the guidance of expe- 
 rienced teachers ; and though Academies can neither 
 create genius nor supply patronage, the two conditions 
 necessary to the existence of Art, they may materially 
 assist both. 
 
 I believe it will be found generally, that what is 
 called Academic Art (by way of disparagement), in 
 other words learned mediocrity^ has preceded their for- 
 
152 INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 mation ; and that when original genius has afterwards 
 appeared, it has always been benefited by them. 
 Lebrun, with all his talents, was, in the ordinary sense 
 of the words, an academic artist^ and he was so before 
 the establishment of the French Academy. Some 
 time after that institution had been in operation, 
 Watteau appeared; not that he was formed by the 
 Academy, for he was formed by the study of Nature 
 and the art of Rubens — but the Academy did not 
 hinder his appearance, nor destroy him after he be- 
 came one of its members. 
 
 But I will go farther back. Neither Raphael nor 
 Michael Angelo were able to transmit the essence of 
 their art to their pupils. The art of Raphael died 
 with him, and if it has in any degree revived, it has 
 done so in our own Academy, in Flaxman and in 
 Stothard. Michael Angelo, with all the pains he took, 
 was unable to make a historical painter of Sebastian 
 del Piombo, whose genius could not rise above dig- 
 nified portrait; and Vasari, also the scholar and 
 enthusiastic admirer of Michael Angelo, became but 
 the founder of a school of Machinists. 
 
 The obligations of Hogarth and of Reynolds to 
 Academies have been denied. Hogarth, indeed, did 
 not acquire his Imagination, his inexhaustible fertility 
 of Invention, his humour or his pathos in an Academy ; 
 but he acquired his knowledge of the human figure 
 (without which all these great qualities must have 
 remained unknown to the world) in the subscription 
 Academy opened by Sir James Thornhill. It is very 
 true that Reynolds had not studied in an Academy. 
 But it was a cause to him of lamentation, not of 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 153 
 
 boasting. Hear his own modest words—" Not having 
 the advantage of an early academical education," he 
 says, " I never had the facility of drawing the naked 
 figure which an artist ought to have." After this we 
 may fairly say, when we are told of eminent artists 
 who have not studied in Academies, that it would 
 have been better for them if they had done so. 
 
 It has been said by a modern opponent of all such 
 Institutions, that "to produce other Raphaels they 
 must go through the same process that Raphael him- 
 self went through." This I believe; but I believe 
 also that the process must be gone through with 
 powers of mind and delicacy of taste equal to Ra- 
 phael's ; — and then I doubt not that the success may 
 be as complete in a modern Academy as it was in the 
 school of Perugino.^ 
 
 1 It should be known to the public that all the charges in 
 the autobiography of Mr. Hay don, unfavourable to the Royal 
 Academy, are unfounded. The council never made a law, as 
 there stated, after the students had presented a testimonial to 
 Fuseli, that they should not again pay such a compliment to an 
 officer. Many years afterwards the students gave a silver vase 
 to Mr. Hilton, when keeper, and the same tribute of respect 
 was paid to his successor, Mr. Jones. It is also untrue, that 
 the election of Sir Martin Shee to the presidential chair was 
 hurried through, without the usual forms, in the fear that a 
 command might be received from the King to elect Wilkie. It 
 was perfectly well known that George IV. would have been 
 pleased had the choice fallen upon Wilkie, and equally 
 known that the King would never interfere with any election of 
 that body, unless he thought it right to exercise the privilege of 
 a veto. 
 
 Haydon's quarrel with the Academy originated in the belief 
 that a clique of portrait-painters, in the body, tried to crush 
 
INVENTION AND EXPRESSION 
 
 him by placing his Dentatus " in a bad situation. The truth, 
 however, was quite the reverse. The picture was hung in the 
 ante-room, in an excellent light, because it was considered that 
 a good place in that room was better than an indifferent one in 
 the great room. It was hung where pictures by Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds had been placed year after year, — where one of the 
 finest of Lawrence's portraits, the whole-length of Master 
 Lambton, was afterwards placed, — and where I remember 
 hanging a picture by Sir Martin Shee, when he was president, 
 while there were fine pictures by Mr. Roberts and Mr. Her- 
 bert (not then members) in the same room, but on which 
 account those gentlemen never thought of quarrelling with the 
 Academy. 
 
SECTION XI 
 
 On Composition 
 
 I SHALL here confine myself to the consideration of 
 composition, as it relates to lines and forms only. 
 
 Nature, everywhere, arranges her productions in 
 clusters;— and to this end she employs a variety of 
 means. The heavenly bodies are grouped by attrac- 
 tion, flowers and trees by the natural means by which 
 they are propagated, while the social instincts con- 
 gregate man and most other animals into societies,— 
 and the same instincts impel, in man, as well as' in 
 many of the inferior creatures, the grouping of their 
 habitations. Grouping is therefore a universal law 
 of Nature; and though there are cases in which a 
 scattered display of objects may, in parts of a com- 
 position, greatly aid, by contrast, the more compact 
 portions, and cases in which scattered objects may 
 help to tell the story, yet in the composition of a 
 picture, taking the whole together, a scattered general 
 effect is always a fault. 
 
 _ In observing crowds we notice many repetitions of 
 similar attitudes; and in herds of cattle, flocks of 
 sheep, etc., we remark this also. Repetitions of 
 forms and shapes are likewise of frequent occurrence 
 m trees, flowers, the outlines of mountains, clouds, 
 
156 
 
 ON COMPOSITION 
 
 etc. Now the picturesque styles of composition, as 
 they are called, avoid the imitation of these appear- 
 ances, as too formal for Art ; but this, like every other 
 rejection of a natural principle, only produces man- 
 nerism, — which sort of mannerism was carried to its 
 greatest extreme by the French painters of the time 
 of Louis XV., painters who are now all but forgotten. 
 
 It is true the repetitions of forms and lines, if 
 managed with too much regularity or appearance of 
 study, become pedantic; but in the compositions of 
 Masaccio, of Raphael, and of Poussin, these repeti- 
 tions have the accidental look of Nature, — and in 
 the works of the best landscape painters, and particu- 
 larly of the Dutch and Flemish Schools, we see the 
 repetitions of forms given with the same unaffected 
 truth. It is such modes of treatment in which the 
 true artlessness of Art^ if I may use the expression, 
 consists ; — artlessness which is indeed the perfection 
 of Art, and the furthest possible removed from that 
 artlessness which arises from ignorance, the artless- 
 ness of very early Art, and of the designs of clever 
 children. 
 
 All improvements in composition, from the infancy 
 of Painting to its full maturity, are the result of the 
 gradual discovery of the principles by which Nature 
 makes assemblages of objects agreeable to the eye, — 
 sometimes by giving variety to regular forms or 
 groups, sometimes by giving regularity to forms in 
 themselves irregular, and always by giving unity to 
 multitude, and subordination of many objects to one, 
 or to a few; and in all that relates to forms or to 
 lines it is chiefly perspective that does these things. 
 
ON COMPOSITION 
 
 157 
 
 — Linear perspective is, therefore, the basis of linear 
 grouping, and until its laws were well understood, 
 composition remained imperfect, whatever beauties 
 it occasionally put forth being accidentally obtained 
 by the lucky chance of the correct copying of the 
 appearances of Nature, but with no certainty of 
 repetition, the causes of the appearances not being 
 understood. 
 
 Of composition, therefore, before the laws of per- 
 spective were known, it is more to be wondered at 
 that we often find it as agreeable as it is than that we 
 do not find it better. In the works of Giotto we see 
 beautiful combinations of lines and forms, though 
 these excellences are rarely sustained through an entire 
 picture; but when a knowledge of perspective had 
 settled the two principles of grouping with reference 
 to background, we find extended composition well 
 developed. 
 
 In turning over, the engravings from the Campo 
 Santo, the vast superiority in the compositions of 
 Gozzoli over those of the earlier painters, the result 
 almost entirely of his knowledge of perspective, is very 
 striking. It is impossible not to admire the richness 
 and splendour of his architectural backgrounds, though 
 sometimes over-profuse in ornament ; but the extensive 
 picture which concludes the history of Joseph can 
 scarcely be praised enough. No story was ever more 
 naturally told — nor grouping more unaffectedly simple. 
 As was the practice in early Art, several points of time 
 are united in one composition, and Joseph appears in 
 three different places ; but, what is most remarkable, 
 Gozzoli has adopted three different points of sight in 
 
158 
 
 ON COMPOSITION 
 
 the perspective. The entire composition is, however, 
 so harmonious, that this violation of a law does not 
 strike the spectator at the first glance ; and if it be 
 excusable, the apology is to be found in the fact that 
 if but one point of sight, which must have been the 
 central one, only, had been used, the openings which 
 show the sky and trees, and a distant dome, must 
 have been shut out, and much that is beautiful lost. 
 Not that these excuses should constitute a precedent, 
 for it is always in the power of the painter to adopt 
 an arrangement that needs them not. 
 
 But the example of Masaccio in the treatment of 
 architecture with reference to figures is perhaps a 
 better one, and in this he is sometimes to be preferred 
 even to Raphael ; for in the engravings I have seen 
 from his works at Florence his backgrounds are 
 always strictly subordinate. 
 
 I have heard the diminutive proportions of the 
 architecture in the cartoons defended on the ground 
 that Raphael's object was to give importance to his 
 figures. But whether it was with this intention or not 
 that he dwarfed his buildings, I have no hesitation in 
 saying that it was not necessary to such an end that 
 he should do so.^ — The large architecture which forms 
 the background to Titian's great picture in the Church 
 of the Frari, at Venice, ennobles the composition, 
 with no loss of consequence to the figures, the dignity 
 
 1 It probably arose from his frequent reference to antique 
 bas-reliefs, in which the diminutive architecture is entirely con- 
 ventional. The general plan of the Sacrifice at Lystra," is 
 almost copied from one of these. Yet all in it that is of most 
 interest, is entirely Raphael's. 
 
COMPOSITION BY ORCAGNA, AND IMITATION OF IT BY RAPHAEL. 
 
ON COMPOSITION 
 
 159 
 
 and importance of which is the first thing that im- 
 presses the mind ; nor do the figures in the " Sacra- 
 ments " of Poussin suffer in the least by the magnitude 
 of the architecture, which the simplicity of its forms 
 and the breadth of its light and shadow sufficiently 
 subordinate to the groups. 
 
 But to return to the consideration of perspective. 
 I know not that I can better point out its great value 
 than by comparing the upper part of Raphael's 
 "Dispute of the Sacrament" with the composition 
 which furnished him with its arrangement. The 
 " Last Judgment," by Orcagna, in the Campo Santo, 
 not only suggested the general plan of Michael 
 Angelo's great work, but its lines of the Apostles 
 sitting on each side of the Saviour and the Madonna, 
 furnished the similar arrangement, though not of the 
 same personages, to the "Dispute of the Sacrament." 
 The immense superiority of Raphael's composition 
 need not be pointed out ; my object in the comparison 
 is merely to observe how much he gained by his 
 knowledge of perspective, in the elegant semicircular 
 sweep formed by the cloud that supports the figures 
 on each side of the Saviour, and the higher and there- 
 fore still more curved line of the angels above. This 
 instance of the great value of perspective is the more 
 striking because the composition is not architectural. 
 
 Balance of lines and masses is the great principle 
 of general composition ; and whether this be obtained 
 by exact symmetry of parts, as in the "School of 
 Athens," or by the many other more irregular plans 
 of arrangement, depends wholly on the subject : — for 
 one form is not more legitimate than another. Nature 
 
i6o 
 
 ON COMPOSITION 
 
 delights us in so many different ways, that Art may, 
 and indeed should, follow her variety if it would 
 avoid the stagnation of mediocrity, — the invariable 
 result of too exclusive an attachment to any one 
 system. 
 
 The first thing we are taught by perspective is, that 
 all objects are apparently altered in magnitude and 
 shape as they approach or recede from the eye, and 
 that these alterations are infinitely varied as the points 
 of distance and of sight are changed. Objects that 
 are perfectly spherical form the only exceptions I can 
 think of to this law, their apparent changes being of 
 size only, and not of shape. 
 
 I remember, when I was a student, hearing it argued 
 that parallel perspective must always be untrue, be- 
 cause perspective makes all horizontal lines tend 
 towards points on the horizon, and all perpendicular 
 lines approach each other to meet in a single point 
 perpendicular to the point of sight, and that, therefore, 
 there is no such thing as parallel perspective in Nature. 
 But, in such reasoning, one important fact is entirely 
 overlooked, namely, that the plane of the picture 
 itself is subject to the laws of perspective, and be- 
 comes altered, more or less, in shape, according to the 
 point from which we view it, and carries with it 
 all the lines on its surface that are parallel with, 
 or perpendicular to, the horizon, exactly as such 
 lines, in Nature, would be altered by the laws of 
 vision; — parallel perspective being thus made true 
 by Nature herself. 
 
 I am inclined to think that the vanishing points of 
 rectangular objects, when represented obliquely to the 
 
ON COMPOSITION 
 
 i6i 
 
 plane of the picture, should be always placed beyond 
 its boundary; for though, in photographs from real 
 architecture, we often see a point of distance chosen 
 that brings one of the vanishing points within the 
 picture, yet, even in these, there is an apparent want 
 of truth, and, certainly, perspective should be so 
 managed as not only to he true, but to look true. Thd 
 ceiling of the night-cellar, in which Hogarth's Idle 
 Apprentice is taken into custody, is a glaring and re- 
 markable instance of false perspective, arising from 
 the placing of the vanishing point of its beams within 
 the composition; and, indeed, this is far from the 
 only case of such carelessness in this great artist, who 
 yet took the trouble to publish a print, pointing out 
 some of the gross errors consequent on ignorance of 
 perspective. 
 
 His facility and taste in composition were, however, 
 very great ; but some of his interiors would have been 
 more true, in effect, had he placed his point of distance 
 farther from the plane of the picture, or been less 
 fond than he was of oblique perspective. This is 
 particularly observable in one of the most admirable 
 of his works, the breakfast scene of the "Mar- 
 riage k-la-Mode," — in which neither the floor nor the 
 ceiling appear to be level unless the eye is placed so 
 close to the picture as to be unable to see any part of 
 it perfectly. Hogarth seems to have considered it 
 always proper that the spectator should suppose him- 
 self to be in the apartment represented. But there is 
 no absolute necessity for this. The side of the room 
 not represented may be imagined open, as in many of 
 Wilkie's compositions, and as in scenes on the stage ; 
 
 M 
 
ON COMPOSITION 
 
 indeed, it is best, as a general rule, that the distance 
 of the eye from the composition should be equal to a 
 line drawn diagonally across the picture from corner 
 to corner. The Dutch painters of interiors have often 
 adopted a nearer point of distance, but then they 
 generally preferred parallel to oblique perspective, and 
 this choice greatly assists the level look of their floors 
 and ceiUngs. They often, both in interiors and ex- 
 teriors, availed themselves of the advantage a near 
 point of sight gives in introducing one or two long 
 oblique lines, which, as they managed them, effectually 
 excluded a tame or commonplace appearance from 
 compositions in other respects extremely simple. 
 
 The knowledge of perspective, like everything else 
 in which science can render assistance to Art, will be 
 of little use unless constantly under the direction of 
 taste. Much of the impression of a picture depends on 
 the choice of the horizontal line. It was a remark of 
 Stothard that " grandeur might be obtained either by 
 a very high or a very low horizon; but when the 
 horizon is placed in or near the middle of the 
 picture, grandeur of composition must be sought from 
 some other principle." In many of his own pictures 
 we have fine examples of the advantage of a high 
 horizon, and Titian's " Peter Martyr " affords a noble 
 instance of the grandeur of a low one ; indeed, Titian's 
 compositions of the "Death of Abel," "Abraham and 
 Isaac," and " David and Goliath," owe much of their 
 impressiveness to the horizon being below the bound- 
 ary of the picture. This choice was suggested by the 
 adaptation of those great works to ceilings ; but there 
 is no reason against such a choice in pictures that are 
 
ST. PETER MARTYR — BY TITIAN. 
 
ON COMPOSITION 
 
 to be hung above the eye, and a strong one in favour 
 of it, namely, that the effect will be truer. 
 
 As to lines and forms of beauty, the serpentine line 
 is unquestionably, in itself and alone, more beautiful 
 than the straight line, and a round or oval form more 
 beautiful than a square one. But every line, in turn, 
 becomes a line of beauty from situation and contrast, 
 and, in the same way, every form may be made an 
 object of beauty. — Hogarth recommended the pyra- 
 midal form of composition as the best ; and though 
 in his own works we trace much of the pyramid, yet 
 he did not adhere to it so constantly or so rigidly as 
 to give too great an appearance of artifice. One 
 thing may be said in favour of the pyramid, where 
 the composition rises high above the horizon, — that 
 it conforms to the law of perspective I have noticed, 
 by which all perpendicular lines terminate in a 
 point. 
 
 It is not a little curious that, in his eagerness to 
 support a favourite theory, Hogarth tells us that the 
 sculptors of the Laocoon made little men of the sons 
 rather than violate the principle of the pyramid in the 
 composition of the whole. He had, perhaps, never 
 seen a cast of the original group, and may have known 
 it only from bad engravings or copies, otherwise, it is 
 inconceivable that he could have mistaken the boys 
 for little men. His " Analysis of Beauty " is, however, 
 a book that every painter should read, — as it can 
 never be consulted without profit, if the reader be on 
 his guard against too implicit a reliance on the reason- 
 ing of the author, where his theories of the serpentine 
 one and the pyramid are concerned. 
 
ON COMPOSITION 
 
 But, whatever may be the utility of Hogarth's 
 theories, his practice is as full of instruction in com- 
 position as it is in all other parts of the art. His 
 compositions, and particularly where the story requires 
 an abundance of material, are as full, as rich, and as 
 varied, as those of Rubens, and with less apparent 
 artifice. His crowds are always managed with con- 
 summate skill. No composition was ever more beauti- 
 fully built up than his " Southwark Fair ; " and the 
 bold lines of the posts of the falling scaffold in the 
 foreground, protruding obliquely into the picture, 
 are of the greatest possible value. Imagine them 
 away, and the composition loses vastly ; but from such 
 a work, nothing, even to the most minute object, can 
 be spared. 
 
 To me, the richest of all his pictures, as a composi- 
 tion, is his " Strolling Actresses." In this matchless 
 work he revels and luxuriates in lines and forms, with 
 a happiness equal to his wit and humour. Every 
 variety of object and shape is here linked together in 
 a harmony "never ending, still beginning," and all is 
 steadied by the long beams of the roof above the 
 motley assemblage of gods and goddesses in rags and 
 tawdry finery, and by the two sweeping lines of the 
 ropes depending from a rafter on which some of the 
 linen of the celestials is hanging to dry. It is by this 
 contrast of long lines or large objects with a multitude 
 of small parts, that unity, breadth, and steadiness are 
 to be gained. In the " March to Finchley," the form 
 of the flag that rises above the crowd near the centre 
 of the picture is of inestimable use in connecting the 
 two wings of the composition, — and of great value 
 
ON COMPOSITION 
 
 165 
 
 also, in such a crowd, is the flat board on the head of 
 the pieman : — and these instances may serve to direct 
 attention to many other of the feUcitous contrivances 
 by which a great painter courts the favour of the 
 eye. 
 
 A very striking excellence of Hogarth's composi- 
 tions is their perspicuity. The eye is never misled 
 or confused, even in his fullest or most complicated 
 subjects ; but every object, from the largest to the 
 smallest, tells at once for what it is intended, — yet 
 never obtrusively, never at the expense of the general 
 masses. 
 
 As we are indebted to the antique for the best 
 standard of human form, we also derive from the same 
 source much valuable suggestion as to the shapes and 
 castings of draperies, and other elegances by which 
 the human figure may be adorned, and its expression 
 aided. But in the imitation of these things, particu- 
 larly in the casting of draperies, we must never lose 
 sight of the differences between Painting and Sculp- 
 ture. The close adherence, for instance, of the gar- 
 ment to the limb, showing its form distinctly through 
 it, may be a beauty in Sculpture, but unless accounted 
 for by rapid action, or the effect of wind, it may be- 
 come a defect in Painting, — a defect we more often 
 find in Michael Angelo than in Raphael. Michael 
 Angelo, indeed, sometimes gives an utterly impossible 
 appearance of the forms of the body through the 
 draperies, but these are among the freaks of genius 
 that should never be imitated. Draperies that en- 
 tirely conceal the figure, by their amplitude, often 
 impart a grandeur to the most ordinary attitudes. 
 
i66 
 
 ON COMPOSITION 
 
 Early Christian Sculpture abounds in fine examples 
 of this, — as do the works of Giotto, Angelico, Mas- 
 accio, and many of the early Italian painters; and 
 more grace may be often added by length of line to 
 attitudes in themselves graceful, as the long riding 
 habit worn by ladies gives additional elegance to the 
 manner in which they sit on horseback. 
 
 In speaking of drapery, I must again refer to Raphael 
 as a master beyond most others worthy of study ; for 
 nowhere is his admirable taste more conspicuous 
 than in the dressing of his figures. He neither over- 
 loads them, nor are his lines ever poor or meagre. 
 Action is always aided by the streaming or fluttering, 
 or slighter movement of the dress, and grace made 
 more graceful. 
 
 A previous position of the figure may often be in- 
 dicated by the manner in which part of the dress lies 
 on the ground, or on some other near object; and 
 there are even fanciful modes by which action or 
 meaning may be assisted by drapery. From the 
 shoulders of the visionary figures of St. Peter and St. 
 Paul, in the "Attila," their mantles are in part 
 detached, so as to suggest wings; and, in the 
 "Jonas" of Michael Angelo, the drapery of the 
 prophet is thrown into forms resembhng the head 
 and tail of a large fish. 
 
 Flaxman compares drapery to language. " As the 
 beauties of the mind,'' he says, " are seen through and 
 adorned by language, so the graces of the figure are 
 set off by drapery." And his own outlines from 
 Homer, ^schylus, Hesiod, and Dante, furnish beauti- 
 ful illustrations of the valuable remarks on drapery 
 
ON COMPOSITION 
 
 167 
 
 contained in his lectures. The manner in which his 
 flying figures, now poised in the air, now cutting it 
 with extreme rapidity, and now gracefully floating in 
 space, are aided by their garments, is beyond all 
 praise. Yet, admirable as they are, the painter, in 
 studying them, must not forget that they are the 
 draperies of a sculptor, whose Art admits more of the 
 conventional, in composition, than Painting. 
 
 Flaxman's parallel between drapery and language 
 may be carried farther ; for the well-known witticism, 
 attributed to Talleyrand, that "language was given to 
 man to enable him to conceal his thoughts," is not 
 inapplicable to the usefulness of drapery in concealing 
 the defects of the body. The preposterous fashion of 
 hoop-petticoats, which was carried to its utmost ex- 
 treme in Spain, in the reign of Philip IV., originated 
 in no good ; cravats are said to have been introduced 
 to hide scrofulous throats ; and padding the chest is 
 now considered essential to the manliness of the 
 military figure. But the hypocrisy of dress stands no 
 more in need of illustration than the hypocrisy of 
 language. Both are fruitful subjects for the satirist, 
 and by Hogarth every absurdity of the fashions of his 
 time was treated with matchless humour. 
 
 Few but must have noticed that the most elegant 
 dress ever fails to adorn some figures ; the very folds 
 of a shawl fall awkwardly on vulgar or awkward 
 persons. When Autolycus appears in the Prince's 
 dress, the shepherd remarks that "his garments are 
 rich, but he wears them not handsomely." But where 
 there is native grace and inborn gentility, the most 
 ordinary attire seems often to dispose itself to advan- 
 
i68 
 
 ON COMPOSITION 
 
 tage, without the least care or study on the part of the 
 wearer. Sterne felt this when he said, "The sweet 
 look of goodness that sat upon my uncle Toby's brow 
 assimilated everything around it so sovereignly to 
 itself, and Nature had, moreover, wrote gentleman with 
 so fair a hand in every line of his countenance, that 
 even his tarnished gold-laced hat, and huge cockade 
 of flimsy taffeta, became him ; and, though not worth 
 a button in themselves, yet, the moment my uncle 
 Toby put them on, they became serious objects, and 
 seemed picked up by the hand of science to set him 
 off to advantage." 
 
 In such instances, the charm is communicated by 
 the wearer to the dress. In Art, the taste of the 
 painter must do this, and either turn every change of 
 fashion to advantage with Reynolds, or invest the 
 torn caps and the rags of peasant children and 
 cottage girls with the artless grace of Gainsborough. 
 But though neither he nor Reynolds could explain 
 their secret, nor can we hope to discover it by look- 
 ing at their works, yet we may be sure that if we 
 really feel their refinement — a refinement far from all 
 vulgar notions of elegance — w^e shall never stand be- 
 fore their best pictures without some good to our- 
 selves. When Reynolds was asked how he could 
 bear to paint the cocked hats, bonnets, wigs, etc., of 
 his time, he answered, "They have all light and 
 shadow." 
 
 Painting has lent itself to every fashion that has 
 appeared in the civilised world, and, in the hands of 
 the great masters, has shown that every fashion, what- 
 ever its extravagance, may be turned to good account 
 
ON COMPOSITION 
 
 169 
 
 as illustrating manners or character. And here I 
 must again notice the conduct of Hogarth, whose 
 attention to the costume of his day has sometimes 
 been considered as confining his satires too much 
 to the era in which he lived, and therefore a fault. 
 But as his object was to show 
 
 " The very age and body of the time, 
 
 Its form and pressure " — 
 
 we must judge him by what he intended, and we shall 
 find that, like a great genius, he has accomplished 
 more than he intended. Indeed, it is having done 
 this that led to the objection I have noticed. 
 
 Where the dresses of his time were not beautiful 
 they were always picturesque, and he has availed 
 himself of their forms, in this respect, with as much 
 of taste as he has shown of judgment and humour in 
 rendering them the assistants of character. The dif- 
 ferent ranks of society, as well as the different pro- 
 fessions and occupations of men, were far more 
 marked to the eye by dress a hundred years ago 
 than they are now, and this was an immense advan- 
 tage in painting subjects from real life. Indeed, I 
 cannot see how it would have been possible for 
 Hogarth to have told his stories, with less attention 
 than he paid to the fashions of the day, while his 
 pictures would have lost greatly in humour, point, 
 and satire. One of the prevailing follies of that time 
 was the imitation by Englishmen of French manners 
 and of French fashions, and this he never omitted 
 any opportunity of holding up to ridicule. The 
 young bridegroom in the first picture of the "Mar- 
 
I/O 
 
 ON COMPOSITION 
 
 riage a-la-Mode " has transformed himself, as entirely 
 as he could outwardly do so, into a Paris beau ; and 
 so have the emaciated fop and antiquated belle in his 
 "Taste in High Life." The gentlemen, also, who 
 are seen in the side boxes above his "Laughing 
 Audience," and who are too well bred to care for the 
 play, have undergone the same transformation. And 
 in all this Hogarth is borne out by contemporary 
 authors ; for the innkeeper in Goldsmith's play con- 
 cludes that Marlow and Hastings may be Londoners 
 because "they look woundily like Frenchmen." 
 
 The works of this most genuine English painter, it 
 is true, must be studied to be understood, — not, how- 
 ever, because of their obscurity, but because of their 
 great depth and fulness ; and as Shakspeare is in no 
 danger of ever wanting commentators, neither, I am 
 persuaded, is Hogarth. 
 
SECTION XII 
 
 On Colour and Chiaroscuro 
 
 After seeing all the fine pictures in France, Italy, 
 and Germany,'^ writes Wilkie, "one must come to 
 this conclusion, that colour, if not the first, is, at 
 least, an essential quality in Painting. No master has 
 yet maintained his ground^ beyond his own time^ without 
 
 it:' 
 
 It was, perhaps, very much from modesty that 
 Reynolds placed the things he so greatly excelled 
 in lower than I think they should be placed among 
 the attributes of Art. It was natural that he should 
 not think the most highly of what he found so easy ; 
 but as I have not the same reason for undervaluing 
 colour and chiaroscuro, I will endeavour to show 
 why I venture to dissent on these points from so 
 high an authority. 
 
 In the first letter which he addressed to The Idler^ 
 he speaks of " critics who are continually lamenting 
 that Raphael had not the colouring and harmony of 
 Rubens, or the light and shadow of Rembrandt, with- 
 out considering how much the gay harmony of the 
 former or the affectation of the latter would take 
 from the dignity of Raphael.*' Now I think the 
 following reply to this might fairly be suggested on 
 
172 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 behalf of the critics. The colouring and harmony of 
 Rubens, instead of injuring the dignity of Raphael, 
 would, if applied with the discrimination with which 
 Raphael was sure to apply them to his works, unite 
 with it, and add to their value. Imagine, for in- 
 stance, the " Galatea " with the tone and harmony of 
 Rubens, and the image of a work is immediately 
 presented to the mind of far greater perfection than 
 that picture in its present state ; and that the colour 
 of Rubens may be accommodated to all that is most 
 pathetic, we have a striking proof in his "Descent 
 from the Cross.'' Whatever may be the deficiency 
 of this great work in historical dignity, arises from the 
 grossness of form and want of elevation of character 
 in some of the personages. It may be objected, 
 also, that the dress of the Magdalene is too modern, 
 but the expression of her face, little as we see of it, 
 the grief and reverence with which she receives in 
 her arms the feet of our Lord, have rarely been 
 equalled, never surpassed; and the colour and 
 chiaroscuro are of the greatest importance in assist- 
 ing the deep impression this matchless work must 
 make on every human being that has a heart. 
 
 Then, again, as to the light and shadow of Rem- 
 brandt being incompatible with the dignity of 
 Raphael, I would say the same thing. Unquestion- 
 ably not, if used with Raphael's judgment. One of 
 the most remarkable characteristics of that great 
 man was the quickness with which he saw and made 
 himself master of every beauty and excellence in the 
 works of others, — of his contemporaries as well as of 
 the artists who preceded him; and to this it is in 
 
THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS— BY RUBENS. 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 173 
 
 part, — we can scarcely say in how great a part, — 
 owing that he so far surpassed all other painters of 
 his time excepting Michael Angelo. 
 
 We often hear of the language and the grammar of 
 Art j and these words are frequently used where there 
 is no real correspondence between the qualities they 
 are put for and the words themselves. Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds, in his fourth Discourse, speaks of Paul 
 Veronese and Tintoret as possessing merely the lan- 
 guage of painters ; and adds, " it is but poor eloquence 
 which only shows that the orator can talk." Now let 
 us, for a moment, consider what are the qualities thus 
 compared to language, — that is, to a system of mere 
 arbitrary signs of things, which, having no resemblance 
 to the things themselves, vary in every nation under 
 Heaven. The powers of Art, thus compared to lan- 
 guage, present us with the most vivid images of all 
 that Nature addresses to our sight ; and these images 
 are given to us by Paul Veronese with a greater degree 
 of general truth than by any other painter on so large a 
 scale as that of his principal works. He unites ex- 
 quisite harmony and purity with the greatest brilliance 
 and force of colour, and the most unaffected system 
 of light and shade. He has elegance, grace, dignity, 
 and in some of his compositions a grandeur of style 
 not unworthy of Michael Angelo; while Tintoret, 
 possessing many of the highest excellences of colour, 
 appeals irresistibly to our imagination by the power 
 of his chiaroscuro. 
 
 It is not unfair to rate the qualities of Art by the 
 difficulty of their attainment, and the rarity with which 
 we find them in any tolerable degree of perfection. A 
 
174 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 poet may in a word or two convey an idea of the com- 
 plexion of a beautiful woman, and those words often 
 very vaguely used. In the hands of Shakspeare, 
 "Nature's pure red and white" are sufficient; but 
 the painter, to do this, must engage in actual rivalry 
 with Nature herself, — a contest in which a distant 
 approach to her is allowed to constitute success. And 
 even such success, in the colour of flesh, has not, 
 perhaps, been perfectly attained by twenty artists with 
 whose works we are acquainted — Paul Veronese being 
 one. 
 
 Some critics have gone farther than Reynolds, and, 
 in a sweeping way, denounced all the varied excel- 
 lences of the Dutch and Flemish schools as the lan- 
 guage, only, of Art. Writers who have no practical 
 knowledge of Painting, may thus condemn what they 
 do not understand ; but should any artist be disposed 
 to listen to them, I would advise him to try to paint the 
 commonest object as the best Dutch painters would 
 have painted it, and I am much mistaken if he will 
 not soon acknowledge their transcendent excellence. 
 
 But I must again dissent from Sir Joshua when I 
 find him considering colour as a merely sensual ele- 
 ment of Art. It is certainly no more so, in the com- 
 mon and gross meaning of the word, than form, or 
 light and shade. All these may be equally used to 
 render subjects that appeal to our animal propensities 
 attractive, and Sculpture may be, and often is, as 
 sensual as Painting ever can be. 
 
 But colour, it is said, is sensual as addressing itself 
 to the sense of sight only, and not to the mind. This, 
 however, like the first objection, applies no more to 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 175 
 
 colour exclusively than to any other quality of Art. 
 Beauty of form or truth of light and shadow address 
 themselves as much to the eye, and no more to the 
 mind than colour, unless they express a sentiment, — 
 and colour may appeal to the mind as powerfully as 
 either, in the expressions of gaiety, of sadness, or of 
 solemnity. When we hear, as we often do, this peculiar 
 distinction of Painting called a merely ornamental 
 quality, we must remember that every part of the Art 
 is ornamental, — and if colour be more so in some 
 schools than in others, it is only because it is truer, in 
 those schools, to Nature. We must not confound the 
 materials the Venetian painters introduced into their 
 pictures with the media of their Art ; — the effects of 
 their rich velvets, satins, brocades, etc., with those 
 beauties of Nature, her brightness, splendour, and 
 harmony, which they first gave in perfection, and which 
 might as well adorn the poorest and coarsest materials 
 as the richest. It is not that Paul Veronese is gayer 
 in colour than Raphael, — but he is truer, and seems 
 completely to have attained that which Raphael aimed 
 at in nearly all his subjects, namely, the broad light of 
 tranquil mid-day. It is curious that, when Paul Vero- 
 nese visited Rome, he studied the frescoes of the 
 Vatican for their colour ; and seems to have derived a 
 fondness for shot or changeable draperies very much 
 from Raphael. 
 
 The most solemn, the most mournful tones, and 
 tones suited to the most sublime subjects, may be found 
 in the works of Titian, of Tintoret, and even of Paul 
 Veronese, as well as colour the most magnificent ; but 
 the distinguishing excellence of the Venetian and of 
 
176 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 the Dutch and Flemish schools is that, whatever be 
 the choice of colours, — whether the tints be brilliant, 
 rich, or negative, — whether the effects be light or 
 dark, — the true tone of Nature is spread over the 
 whole. 
 
 I can never, therefore, think that Venetian or Dutch 
 colour can do otherwise than exalt the highest subjects ; 
 and it seems to me a most injurious error for painters 
 to consider colour a thing that may be either neglected 
 as a minor excellence or deliberately rejected as incon- 
 sistent with other qualities. Such may be a conveni- 
 ent mode of thinking, but I am convinced it never 
 was the way in which any really great painter ever 
 thought or felt ; and it is curious to see, in the writ- 
 ings of Reynolds, his natural love of colour breaking 
 out in detached passages, and confuting his own 
 theory of the incompatibility of the excellences of the 
 Venetian or Dutch with those of the Roman schools. 
 He admits in one place that the colour of Titian 
 might assimilate with the grandest subjects, — and in 
 another he says, "Jan Steen had a fine manly style 
 of painting that might become even the design of 
 Raphael." 
 
 I trust that, in the foregoing remarks, I shall not 
 be thought to undervalue the authority of Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds as a general writer on Art, any more than I 
 can be supposed indifferent to his transcendent excel- 
 lence as a painter, or to the benefits he has conferred, 
 far beyond any other man, on the school of which he 
 was the founder. Indeed, it is because he justly ranks 
 amongst the highest authorities in criticism that I have 
 thought it necessary to point out what appears to me 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 177 
 
 an injurious tendency in one part of his writings ; and 
 I would accompany what I have said by remarking, 
 that all theories, how great soever the names that 
 sanction them, if formed solely on the practice of 
 particular schools, should be carefully examined 
 before they are implicitly relied on. 
 
 In every country in the world, in which anything 
 like Art has appeared, a taste for colour seems to 
 have been one of its earliest developments. We see 
 it in thevpictures of the Egyptians, and in the decora- 
 tions of their mummy-cases, and even the American 
 Indians often display happy contrasts in the colours 
 with which their manufactures are adorned. In the 
 paintings of the Chinese, the decorations of their 
 porcelain, the patterns of their silks, and the ornaments 
 of their furniture, we find an exceeding refinement of 
 taste in the selection and arrangement of colours ; — 
 the most vivid tints are harmonised by contrast with 
 the most delicate, and an admirable balance is pre- 
 served between positive and negative hues. The 
 same is true, though in a less degree, of the Persians, 
 and other so-called semi-barbarous people ; and it is 
 very remarkable that we never see in the pictures and 
 manufactures of these semi-barbarians those glaringly 
 vulgar combinations of colour that so frequently occur 
 in the manufactures and Art of the most civilised 
 nations of the present day. 
 
 In the purchase of a carpet, for instance, with how 
 much of the vulgar finery of colour the eye is wearied 
 before it can find anything equal to the beauty of 
 a Persian pattern ; and how far more agreeable is the 
 effect of the Chinese to the Sevres porcelain, though 
 
 N 
 
178 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 the pictures on the former leave out light and shadow 
 and set perspective utterly at defiance, while those on 
 the latter profess to be complete works of Art. 
 
 This was strikingly exemplified in the great Exhi- 
 bition of 185 1. In the apartment containing the 
 French tapestries, there were no combinations of 
 colour among them that were not tawdry, excepting 
 in those from Beauvais, which w^ere exact copies of 
 Persian carpets ; and though the porcelain and other 
 manufactures of China were very scantily represented, 
 yet the superiority of the arrangements of their colour 
 to the greater portion of such displays in the European 
 departments was very remarkable. 
 
 At the revival of Painting, the ItaHan, Flemish, and 
 German schools all began with that feeling for colour 
 common to the infancy of the Art among every other 
 people. . All the advantages derived from contrast, 
 balance, and purity of tints, appear previously to the 
 invention of oil-painting, and before the chiaroscuro 
 of Nature w^as perceived. Among the earliest speci- 
 mens of the union of chiaroscuro with colour, are the 
 works of the Van Eycks. Our National Gallery for- 
 tunately possesses two pictures of the highest excel- 
 lence by John Van Eyck, remarkable for a deep and 
 solemn splendour of tone not surpassed, and indeed 
 not very often equalled, by later painters. But that 
 the high estimation in which Mediaeval Art is held 
 has, in the present age, led to little else than mere 
 mimicry of its most superficial characteristics, is 
 evident to me from the entire want of perception of 
 the beauty of its colour in all attempts towards its 
 revival. Gilded backgrounds and halos, a hard pre- 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 179 
 
 cision of line, and a flatness of surface, from which 
 all the gradations of Nature are carefully excluded, 
 are given ; but if true imitation should ever take place 
 of this copying of the mere husk of the primitive 
 styles, these things will be omitted, and the harmony, 
 power, and brightness, which, with few exceptions, 
 distinguish their colour, will be felt. 
 
 In estimating the differences between good and 
 bad colourists, we often, I believe, attribute too much 
 to organisation and sensibility. We say such a one 
 has a fine eye, and another has no eye for colour. 
 But how are we to account for the fact that entire 
 schools and ages have excelled in colour, while to 
 every individual in other schools and ages a percep- 
 tion of its beauty seems to have been denied ? The 
 German, Dutch, and Flemish schools, for example, 
 have had more than one period in which all their 
 painters coloured well ; but for a century or more, 
 dating from the present time back — though in these 
 schools there have been many artists of great ability 
 — there has not existed a single excellent colourist. 
 It cannot be that Nature gives to men faculties in one 
 age that she entirely denies them in another, but it 
 must be that men cultivate faculties in one age that 
 at other times they suffer to lie dormant, or in the 
 cultivation of which they are hindered by accidental 
 causes. 
 
 The critics of the last century attributed every 
 excellence to Raphael ; but no one would now place 
 him on a par with the greatest of the Venetians as a 
 colourist; and, indeed, I have heard it said, com- 
 paring him with Rembrandt, that "the Art of Faint- 
 
i8o ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 ing\^2iS unknown to Raphael;" — and this by one of 
 his great admirers. 
 
 Yet I see no reason to suppose he was less happily 
 organised to excel in colour than Rembrandt or Titian. 
 The Blenheim picture, an early work, is quite Vene- 
 tian in tone and harmony, and there are some early 
 pictures by his hand in the Louvre, the landscape 
 backgrounds to which have the amenity of Claude. 
 But after his emancipation from the school of Peru- 
 gino (a school of colour), Raphael devoted himself 
 much to the study of the antique ; and it is certain 
 that the study of form, from stone or plaster, sus- 
 pends for the time all improvement of the eye in 
 colour, and, if too long continued, destroys its sensi- 
 bility to hues and tones entirely, and this is strikingly 
 exemplified in the French schools of David and his 
 contemporaries. Now, though Raphael studied the 
 antique with that judgment that rarely deserted him, 
 though he studied it rather in its spirit than its letter, 
 and used it as a guide to, and not as a substitute 
 for. Nature, yet the time spent in attention to it was 
 so much withdrawn from the study of colour, and the 
 substitution of classical draperies for the dresses of 
 his time so much more. It was also his custom to 
 make chalk-drawings from Nature for heads, hands, 
 etc., of his figures, and from these he seems to have 
 painted without again consulting the model. The 
 studies of the Venetians, as Reynolds has remarked, 
 were chiefly made with colours, and so, I apprehend, 
 were those of the German, the Dutch, and Flemish 
 schools. In the British Museum are some sketches 
 of landscape from Nature by Albert Durer, in colours 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO i8i 
 
 only. From the time of Raphael to our own, it is 
 indisputable that those painters who have paid most 
 attention to the study of the antique, have, with the 
 exception only of Nicolo Poussin, always been the least 
 excellent in colour ; while the greatest colourists of 
 all schools have rarely had any acquaintance with 
 ancient sculpture. In our own, for instance, neither 
 Hogarth, Reynolds, nor Gainsborough, ever drew or 
 painted except from Nature. 
 
 Life is much too short for a mode of study which 
 I hope is less practised now than it was a few years 
 ago by many young painters. I mean, devoting two 
 or three years to drawing from the antique, and as 
 many to the life, before they begin to paint. Stu- 
 dents were often seen in the Academy and other 
 schools, twenty years of age and more, who had 
 never had a palette in their hands, and who had 
 never given a thought to one of the most captivating 
 parts of the Art by which they were to live. Raphael 
 was probably not twenty when he produced that 
 precious little gem in our National Collection, the 
 "Sleeping Knight." He began to paint under the 
 direction of his father before he entered the school of 
 Perugino ; and I must here remark, that whenever I 
 allude to the inferiority of his colour, I mean inferior- 
 ity only when compared with such painters as Titian ; 
 for I believe there are few, perhaps not one, of the 
 works of his own hand in which the standard of 
 colour is not much above that tolerated in the pre- 
 sent day, as well among ourselves as on the Conti- 
 nent ; and I think the Cartoons alone will justify me 
 in saying so much. 
 
1 82 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 Nicolo Poussin began, also, with painting, under 
 Quintin Varin, and received instructions from Ferdi- 
 nand Elle, a Flemish portrait-painter, before he com- 
 menced the study of the antique; and I believe it 
 will be found that no painter has ever become a 
 tolerable colourist who did not begin with painting, 
 or, at any rate, who did not carry on the study of 
 colour at the same time with the study of form. 
 Michael Angelo painted before he took up the chisel. 
 His first picture represented Saint Anthony beaten by 
 devils. It was a copy from an engraving, but we are 
 told " as there were many strange forms and monsters 
 m it, he coloured no part without referring to some 
 natural object. He went to the fish-market to ob- 
 serve the forms and colours of the fins and eyes of 
 fish ; and whatever in Nature constituted a part of its 
 composition, he studied from its source,^^ After this, it 
 appears, he practised painting in the school of Ghir- 
 landajo, before he paid any, or at least much, atten- 
 tion to sculpture. 
 
 It is true the Royal Academy requires a certain 
 proficiency in drawing from the Antique before it 
 admits the student to the study of the living model. 
 Yet as there are many opportunities, during the 
 vacations, and while the Exhibition is open, of paint- 
 ing from Nature, I would strongly recommend such 
 an employment of these intervals — and particularly 
 the practice of portraiture, which has always been, in 
 a great degree, the foundation of the Art of the best 
 historical painters. "Were I to give an opinion," 
 says Opie, " on the prevailing practice of academies, 
 I should say, not that too much attention has been 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 183 
 
 bestowed on drawing, but that certainly too little has 
 been paid to other branches of the Art. A man who 
 has attained a considerable proficiency in one part 
 will not like to become a child in another ; he will 
 rather pretend to despise and neglect, than be thought 
 incapable, or take the pains necessary to conquer it ; 
 and therefore it is, that though the student must 
 necessarily commence with drawing, he should also 
 very soon begin to attempt chiaroscuro, colouring, 
 and composition, and thus carry on the whole together 
 if he wishes to become a competent artist." — Now 
 portraiture embraces all these. 
 
 With respect to the Life School and the study from 
 Nature in general, it is a very common mistake to 
 suppose that attention to colour necessarily precludes 
 attention to drawing. " A painter," as Reynolds tells 
 us, " may as well learn to draw with a hair pencil as 
 with chalk ; " and if it be the more difficult instrument 
 of the two, there is the more reason for an early 
 acquirement of the command of it. Sir Joshua's own 
 practice affords the best commentary on the value of 
 his advice; for from the early use of the brush he 
 acquired a power of drawing with it of the most 
 enviable ease and taste. His defects in form arose 
 from his ignorance of anatomical structure ; but no 
 painter had ever a truer eye for the shapes of the 
 objects before him, or a hand more ready and obedient 
 in transferring those shapes to canvas, with the 
 greatest accuracy and taste. His heads are always 
 inimitably drawn in every view, and the forms of the 
 features, though marked with great firmness and pre- 
 cision, never seem so bounded by an outline, as we 
 
1 84 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 see them in the works of many other painters. The 
 form is given in perfection, while the outUne here and 
 there eludes us as it does in Nature. His true feel- 
 ing for light and shade, also, is a proof of his accurate 
 perception of forms, for light and shade on a single 
 object are the only means to express that which is 
 outline in all other views besides the one given. Then 
 his animals, his horses, birds, dogs, etc., though minute 
 details are omitted, yet what life and character they 
 have, and which could not be there without accuracy 
 in their general forms. I consider, indeed, that 
 Reynolds was a draughtsman of the greatest taste and 
 general correctness, and whatever impression there 
 may be to the contrary, arises from his want of ana- 
 tomical knowledge, and of acquaintance with the 
 Antique. That he deeply felt these deficiencies is 
 certain; for he lamented them with equal candour 
 and earnestness : and his unfeignedly great admiration 
 of Michael Angelo shows that he fully appreciated 
 the value of the acquirements which he did not 
 possess. 
 
 It is a fatal error to believe that Colour is a matter 
 of more easy acquirement than Form ; I conceive it 
 to be far more difficult. Form may be measured; 
 its anatomical structure may be investigated, its lines 
 are not changed as tints perpetually are by the shift- 
 ing light of day or the accidents of reflexes. If the 
 beauties of form are subtle, those of colour are eva- 
 nescent ; and combined with chiaroscuro, from which, 
 in Nature, they are inseparable, they become the last 
 refinements of the Art, as it addresses itself to the 
 eye. 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 185 
 
 It must be remembered that, at the present day, 
 there are greater obstacles in the way of our becoming 
 colourists than existed in the infancy of Painting. 
 The discovery of chiaroscuro has much increased the 
 difficulties of colouring ; and unfortunately, ever since 
 the time of Raphael, indolence in a study so difficult 
 has been able to shelter itself under the example of 
 him who was indolent in nothing that belonged to the 
 Art. 
 
 In regarding the colour of the primitive painters, 
 of all the schools, our admiration must be confined to 
 the brilliancy, transparency, and force of their tints, 
 and the agreeable contrasts of their masses. The 
 true colour of flesh was scarcely perceived till the 
 time of the Bellini, and in their school perfected, only 
 in the hands of Giorgione and Titian ; nor were all 
 the delicate varieties produced by aerial perspective 
 given, even by these great masters, in whose styles, 
 indeed, chiaroscuro did not so completely enter as a 
 ruling principle as it did in the styles of Correggio, 
 Rubens, Rembrandt, and their followers. But these 
 things having now become parts of the Art can never 
 again be estranged from it, because they are insepar- 
 able from Nature, and are no more to be neglected 
 in our studies than we are to neglect anatomy in the 
 study of form. 
 
 The chiaroscuro of a picture is not merely its light 
 and shade, but its light and dark, the light and dark 
 colours contributing very materially to it, whether 
 they are placed in the light portions of the composi- 
 tion or not. Colour and chiaroscuro, therefore, have 
 so entire a dependence on each other, that they can 
 
1 86 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 never be treated separately. Even engraving, which 
 seems to give us chiaroscuro alone, suggests colour, 
 to the mind, throughout. 
 
 The vocabulary in use relating to light and shade 
 is utterly inadequate to convey that knowledge of its 
 phenomena that a painter requires. It comprises 
 merely the terms light, shade, reflection, half-light, 
 and half-shade. Now all lights, with the exception of 
 those belonging to objects self-luminous, as fire, the 
 sun, etc., are either reflections of light from the sur- 
 faces of bodies, or transmission of light through those 
 that are transparent or partially so ; the focus of 
 light on a globe is, therefore, as much a reflection as 
 that appearance on its shadowed side, which, in 
 ordinary language, is called the reflection ; and as to 
 the terms half-lights and half-shades, they but express, 
 if literally understood, single degrees among the end- 
 less gradations from light to dark. 
 
 It has been said that water receives no shadow; 
 but this is either equally true of all other bodies or not 
 true of water, which is undoubtedly subject to effects 
 that we can no otherwise describe than by the word 
 shadow. When, for instance, the sun is shining on 
 the sea, were it possible that the water could be as 
 smooth as a mirror, we should see his disc exactly 
 reflected, and once only, the surface of the water in 
 other places giving an inverted image of the sky : — 
 but as such perfect stillness never occurs, the light of 
 the sun is spread on the surface by innumerable 
 broken reflections from the waves, and refractions 
 through them, — the spaces between each of these 
 lights (as we call them) reflecting the sky, where again 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 187 
 
 the upper parts of the clouds reflect the sun, and 
 other portions the blue sky or the sea. 
 
 The blue of the sky is occasioned by still more 
 minute reflections and refractions of the sun from and 
 through particles of vapour more subtle than those 
 which compose the clouds, — and but for which, in 
 place of the azure, there would, probably, be a void 
 of utter darkness."^ 
 
 Where clouds or other objects intercept the re- 
 flections of the sun from the waves, the reflection of 
 the sky remains, causing those patches of shadow 
 which, seen from a low point, stripe the sea with 
 long lines of blue. It is scarcely necessary to re- 
 mark that the shadows we see distinctly on the 
 surface of muddy water are projected on the mud 
 within the water, and not on the water itself; as on 
 the face of a looking-glass very faint shadows may 
 always be cast, but these are either on minute par- 
 ticles of dust, or some slight degree of vapour, or on 
 scratches invisible to the naked eye, from all of which 
 the cleanest and most highly-polished mirror is never 
 wholly free. 
 
 Lights and shadows, on all objects, are occasioned 
 by the laws I have endeavoured to explain ; and the 
 effects described on water are exactly those which 
 take place on a meadow, the light of the sun being 
 reflected from or transmitted through every blade of 
 grass, and, where intercepted, leaving the reflection of 
 the sky. And on a road, the light is spread by 
 
 1 For an account of the most probable cause of the blue 
 colour of the sky, see a paper by R. Clausius, in " Scientific 
 Memoirs," Part iv., published by Messrs. Taylor and Francis. 
 
i88 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 reflections from every particle of sand, gravel, or 
 clay. 
 
 Again, if we look close at a polished ball of metal, 
 we find a picture of every surrounding object ; and 
 this at a distance forms that appearance of light and 
 shade that gives it rotundity to the eye.^ Let the 
 ball be dimmed or roughened, and the same general 
 appearance of light and dark is left — equally, though 
 not so palpably, caused by reflection ; the forms and 
 colours of the objects pictured on the ball being more 
 or less blended as the surface is more or less dimmed. 
 Indeed, all dull surfaces would be found, if sufficiently 
 magnified, to be composed of inequalities which 
 spread the light exactly as the waves of the sea do — 
 and ground glass would be a true representative of 
 roughened water. 
 
 Of what consequence, it may be said, is it that the 
 artist should know this if he copy faithfully what he 
 sees? To which I would reply, that it is of the 
 greatest consequence if it enables him to see better 
 what he copies. All good colourists have recognised 
 the results I have spoken of, in Nature, whether or 
 
 1 Professor Wheatstone has made known as far, perhaps, as 
 it can be known, another, and indeed the principal, cause of the 
 projection and relief of objects, excepting in extreme distances, 
 by his admirable invention of the Stereoscope. Till his discovery- 
 naturalists were puzzled to account for a single image resulting 
 from double vision, and Gall and Spurzheim endeavoured to 
 explain it by the supposition that one eye only was active at a 
 time, the other only admitting light, and that Nature had given 
 us two merely to provide against the accidental loss of one. 
 
 The invention of the Stereoscope throws much light also on 
 the subject considered in the first section of this volume. 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 189 
 
 not they investigated the principles that produce 
 them, and the purity and evanescence of their colour- 
 ing has been in proportion to their perception of 
 these results. Paul Veronese saw Nature, thus, with 
 a truer eye than Rubens, and a perfect perception of 
 the influence of reflections constitutes that extraor- 
 dinary charm in the works of De Hooge, which we 
 scarcely find elsewhere on canvas in equal perfec- 
 tion. An investigation of these principles will protect 
 the young artist from the danger of many unfounded 
 aphorisms that he is likely to hear from his elders, 
 and meet with in books, as that shadow is colourless, 
 — that lights should be warm and shadows cool, or 
 shadows warm and lights cool; for a knowledge of 
 these laws will explain, what his eye will soon per- 
 ceive, that the tones both of lights and shades are 
 infinitely varied according to circumstances; — and 
 that as perspective alters every form to the eye, so 
 reflections change more or less every colour — har- 
 monising the crude and giving variety to the mono- 
 tonous ; and that shadow, as far as regards Painting, 
 can never be colourless, for it is never solely the 
 result of the absence of light, excepting in situations 
 with which the painter can have nothing to do, as 
 the interior of a cave, to which every opening is 
 closed. 
 
 As in Nature, the liquid and the transparent are 
 agreeable to the eye, while the dry, the dusty, the 
 smoky, and the parched, are unpleasant, so all great 
 colourists have aimed at expressing the first -named 
 quaUties and avoiding the last ; and as, by reflections, 
 a degree of evanescence or apparent transparency is 
 
I90 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 given to opaque bodies, the perception of this is a 
 reason for the preference of a lucid mode of painting 
 even things that in Nature are not transparent ; and 
 if by Rubens, Gainsborough, and other great artists, 
 the use of glazing colours has been too much adopted, 
 yet it is a fault on the right side, for though it may 
 verge on mannerism, yet a transparent mode of 
 colouring will always be far more delightful than an 
 opaque one. 
 
 In passing through the streets, our eyes are at- 
 tracted by the splendid tints of the coloured liquids 
 in the shop windows of the apothecaries. To a care- 
 Jess observer, each bottle seems to contain one colour 
 only, and that the most brilliant of its kind ; but, on 
 examination, we find that every mass of colour is 
 made up of a great variety of tints caused by reflec- 
 tion and refraction, and that these are perpetually 
 changing with the change of passing objects ; now, in 
 these varieties lies the secret of the delight given to 
 the eye. What is true of these bottles is true of 
 every object, in a greater or less degree, for every 
 object is capable in a greater or less degree of re- 
 ceiving reflections, and the appearances of all things 
 are, therefore, in some sort, modified by surrounding 
 objects. When Reynolds painted his Dido on the 
 Funeral Pile,'' he put together billets of wood, 
 covered them in part with the rich objects he has 
 introduced into the picture, and placed his model on 
 it in the attitude and dress of the expiring queen. 
 This arose from no want of imagination, nor with the 
 intention of imitating all the minute details of the 
 things he put together ; but because he knew that a 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 191 
 
 degree of general truth, and of the harmony of light 
 and shade and colour, might thus be best obtained, 
 and accidental beauties of combination suggested 
 which might not otherwise occur to him. His own 
 remarks on a similar practice by Gainsborough are 
 excellent; — and should such contrivances appear to 
 consume time unnecessarily, I can only say that far 
 more time is often lost in endeavouring to guess at 
 effects, which such contrivances show us at once. 
 Wilkie, in his earlier practice, often made small 
 models of the rooms that formed the scenes of his 
 pictures, with the proper doors and windows, and 
 placed the general forms of his groups and furniture 
 within them — and he had no reason afterwards to 
 regret this as any waste of time. 
 
 When the principles I have endeavoured to explain 
 are understood, it will be seen at once how it is that 
 Nature, though some of her combinations are more 
 beautiful than others, at no time offends us by those 
 discords we find in badly-coloured pictures, nor does 
 she ever allow that equal colour over any object 
 whatever, by which painters, who are not close ob- 
 servers of all her delicate varieties, give a disagreeable 
 painted look to the surfaces of things. The golden 
 and silver tones of the great colourists are not inven- 
 tions of Art, but imitations, imperfect even in the 
 finest pictures, of Nature in her most genial moods. 
 
 It has always been felt that harmony is the result 
 of the breaking of positive colour; and those who 
 have not carefully examined how, and why, and in 
 what degree. Nature breaks her colours, have no other 
 resource left to avoid harshness than to dull every 
 
192 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 tint. They do not observe that, while in some places 
 Nature breaks and subdues colour by reflections, in 
 others she doubles and often more than doubles their 
 brilliancy by the reflection and penetration of light. 
 It becomes, therefore, of great consequence that we 
 should imitate the appearance of every object with 
 reference to those that surrouriil it. Yet how contrary 
 is the practice of most painters, — for we perpetually 
 copy living models in our rooms, to which we add 
 landscape backgrounds. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth has been much misunderstood in 
 the saying attributed to her that she would be 
 "painted without shadow." If she even used the 
 expression, she meant, what she said at another time, 
 that she would be painted in an open garden light 
 — for she saw that there was a great difference be- 
 tween such effect and the effects in pictures. But as 
 the painters of her time could not paint objects as 
 seen in the open air, they painted her literally without 
 shadow. There are portraits by Gainsborough that 
 would perhaps have satisfied her, for some of them 
 really appear as if painted out of doors, and on some 
 of the small figures of De Hooge the effects of open 
 daylight are shown in perfection. 
 
 One of the first things a young painter is told is, 
 that whatever colour he introduces into his picture 
 must not be kept single, but repeated or echoed, with 
 some difference either in its quantity or strength, in 
 another part or parts of his composition; and the 
 laws of Nature show that we must do so, because it 
 is in this way that she herself paints, for these laws 
 always detach a portion of tint from every object, to 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 193 
 
 place it somewhere else ; though this is often nearly 
 imperceptible. 
 
 In the general arrangement of colours, though 
 Nature leaves us a wide range of choice, yet even 
 here she has laws that we may not break with im- 
 punity. Mr. West's theory of arrangement, according 
 to the order in which the primitive and secondary 
 colours take their places in the rainbow, would con- 
 fine the combinations of effect far too much. But 
 the rainbow furnishes, I conceive, a satisfactory 
 elucidation of the soundness of the advice of Rey- 
 nolds, that the warm colours — red, orange, and 
 yellow — should be placed in the lights, from which 
 the cold colours, as blue and green, should either 
 be excluded or admitted only in small proportions. 
 Every eye sensible to harmony must feel that un- 
 broken blue is always unpleasant in the high lights 
 of a picture. Green may be made more agreeable^ 
 because it is nearer the light of the rainbow than 
 blue. Gainsborough, it is said, painted his portrait 
 of a boy in a pale blue dress, now in the gallery of 
 the Marquis of Westminster, by way of refuting the 
 objection Sir Joshua made to light blue as a large 
 mass. But I agree with the opinion of Sir Thomas 
 Lawrence, that in this picture the difficulty is rather 
 "ably combated than vanquished." Indeed, it is not 
 even fairly combated, for Gainsborough has so mel- 
 lowed and broken the blue with other tints, that it is 
 no longer that pure bleak colour Sir Joshua meant \ 
 and, after all, though the picture is a very fine one, it 
 cannot be doubted that a warmer tint for the dress 
 would have made it still more agreeable to the eye. 
 
 o 
 
194 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 In the most genial aspects of Nature, the blue of the 
 sky always serves as a half-tint to white or golden 
 clouds ; and when it is made to tell as a light, by 
 showing itself through the openings of dark clouds, 
 the effect is chilling. As a half-tint, blue, and indeed 
 any cool colour, may be used to great advantage in 
 very large quantities. A familiar proof of this may be 
 noticed in the beautiful appearance of a gilded vane 
 on a steeple, relieved on a deep blue sky. In Titian's 
 " Bacchus and Ariadne," there is a great proportion 
 of blue, but as it forms a ground of relief to the flesh, 
 and to the bright red, orange, and crimson draperies, 
 which make the lights, the effect is splendid, and the 
 picture is a fine specimen of that golden tone in 
 which Titian is scarcely ever rivalled. In Her 
 Majesty's collection is the finest work of De Hooge 
 with which I am acquainted. It represents an in- 
 terior, with a few figures drinking, smoking, and play- 
 ing at cards. Its largest masses are gray, but as this 
 serves for a foil to warm lights, the tone is delicious, 
 and is exactly that of the finest summer weather. In 
 the lights, there is a predominance of the most refined 
 red and yellow, and though there is one large mass of 
 blue drapery, yet it is of the deepest dye. There is 
 no sunshine in this picture, but something even more 
 beautiful, the reflection of sunshine on an open door, 
 from some object outside, but not seen. In the 
 works of Paul Veronese, we find very large propor- 
 tions of gray and of blue, but always as half-tints. In 
 his ''Marriage at Cana" there are no single masses 
 of colour so large as the blue of the sky and the gray 
 of the architecture; but on the blue are brilliant 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 195 
 
 white clouds, and the gray of the more distant parts 
 of the architecture serves to give richness to the 
 warmly-coloured marble of the near pillars. Rubens 
 equally understood the value of gray in giving effect 
 by contrast to all other colours ; but with Rubens 
 the gray is often of a leaden or slaty tone, while with 
 Paul Veronese it is always silvery. In the " Marriage 
 at Cana,'' a concert of music occupies the centre, and 
 the picture itself is a concert of exquisite harmony to 
 the eye."'- 
 
 It is a distinguishing excellence of Paul Veronese 
 that he never exaggerates the principles of Nature to 
 produce an effect. There is no union of midnight 
 shadows with the light of day ever to be found in 
 his works, and which we do find often in Tintoret, 
 the Bassans, Caravaggio, Guercino, and in many other 
 great masters. This is the boldest fiction of chiaro- 
 scuro, but it is generally managed by the painters I 
 have mentioned with such address that it silences 
 criticism and forces us to admire, whether we can ap- 
 prove or not. All that can be said in its defence is, 
 that the elements of such a combination are from 
 Nature, though united as Nature does not unite them. 
 Conventionalities like this must be forgiven to genius ; 
 but I do not think they are to be recommended to 
 imitation ; and in saying so I have no fear of repress- 
 ing the daring of genius ; for genius, such as the men 
 I have mentioned possessed, will always have its own 
 way. Great ability may, however, exist short of 
 
 ^ A very large engraving of this picture has lately appeared, 
 which fails in giving its effect, from the v\^ant of depth in the 
 translation of the blue portion of the sky. 
 
196 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 theirs; and I would gladly repress all who possess 
 it from attempting things which the success even of 
 greater painters cannot entirely sanction. And there 
 is much need of this caution, because it is far more 
 easy to imitate exaggeration of effect than to make 
 simple truth so impressive as it has been made by 
 Paul Veronese, by Claude, and by the best painters 
 of the Dutch and Flemish schools, including Rem- 
 brandt, when he pleases to be included. 
 
 A painter should not encourage a dislike to any 
 colour whatever ; for there is none that will not look 
 beautiful, in some combination with others, either in 
 Nature or in Art, just as there is no line or form 
 that does not become a line or form of beauty in 
 some situations. 
 
 In the difficulty we find in giving tone and harmony 
 to our works, we are apt to take refuge in the belief 
 that time will do for them that which we cannot do 
 ourselves. But we may just as well trust it to time 
 to improve our drawing or composition as our colour- 
 ing. Occasionally the crudeness of inharmonious 
 colours may be mellowed by age, but age can only 
 make dull painting duller : and though, with the help 
 of varnishes and the glazings to which the unprincipled 
 among picture-dealers often have recourse, a brown 
 or yellow hue may be given, yet tone^ the most subtle 
 refinement of colour, never yet belonged to any 
 picture unless imparted to it by the hand of the 
 painter himself; and there cannot be the smallest 
 doubt that every finely-coloured picture was always 
 seen to the greatest advantage as it came fresh from 
 the hands of the master. The reasoning of Hogarth 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 197 
 
 on this subject is conclusive: — "When colours," he 
 remarks, " change at all, it must be somewhat in the 
 manner following, — for as they are made, some of 
 metal, some of earth, some of stone, and others of 
 more perishable materials, time cannot operate on 
 them otherwise than as by daily experience we find 
 it doth, which is, that one changes darker, another 
 lighter, one quite to a different colour, whilst another, 
 as ultramarine, will keep its natural brightness even 
 ,in the fire. Therefore, how is it possible that such 
 different materials, ever variously changing (visibly 
 after a certain time), should accidentally coincide with 
 the artist's intention, and bring about the greater har- 
 mony of the piece, when it is manifestly contrary to 
 their nature? for do we not see in most collections 
 that much time disunites, untones, blackens, and by 
 degrees destroys even the best preserved pictures ? 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds recommended the tone of 
 Ludovico Caracci's best works as the most suited to 
 the graver and more dignified subjects of history, and 
 Fuseli's eloquent description of its " veiled splendour " 
 presents it to the mind in the most captivating man- 
 ner. Though unacquainted with the works that so 
 delighted these great artists, I cannot doubt that they 
 deserve the commendations bestowed on them. Still, 
 I do not see why the tones of Titian and of other 
 painters, which may differ widely from the perfection 
 of Bolognese colour, may not sometimes as well suit 
 the most grave and dignified, and, indeed, the most 
 pathetic subjects. Disastrous events occur as often 
 under serene and brilliant skies, as in the shadows of 
 1 "Analysis of Beauty," chap. xiv. 
 
198 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 twilight, and pathos may be heightened by the con- 
 trast. Sterne, in relating the most affecting of his 
 stories, says, " The sun looked bright to every eye in 
 the village but Le Fevre's and his afflicted son's/' 
 
 I have sometimes heard even bad colouring de- 
 fended, on the ground that the subject was a dismal 
 one ; but the more affecting the story, the more does 
 it require the compensation of every excellence of 
 Art to make it endurable. Even the mastery of 
 Rubens is scarcely sufficient to redeem some of his 
 subjects ; and I confess it does not excuse to me the 
 barbarity of his "Crucifixion," in the Museum at 
 Antwerp, in which the executioners are breaking the 
 legs of the thieves ; and whenever I have visited the 
 Louvre, I have turned with disgust from Gericault's 
 picture of the sufferers on the raft, a work which, 
 though displaying great ability, is as untrue in colour 
 as it is morbid in treatment, the repulsive throughout 
 being, as it were, put in italics. Wretched scenes 
 sometimes present themselves to our sight in real life, 
 in which we can neither do nor receive good, and 
 from which we gladly escape if we can ; and such 
 subjects conceived in such a manner are like these, 
 and no painter has a right to obtrude them on us. 
 The object of Art should be very different. I can 
 stand before the "Flood" of Nicolo Poussin, and 
 admire its pathos, because it is treated with taste, and 
 though it is dismal and terrible, it is not sickeni?ig. 
 
 Young painters sometimes choose subjects of suffer- 
 ing, and treat them in the most offensive manner, in 
 the hope that by making a strong impression they 
 will recommend themselves to notice. But they 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 199 
 
 should be told there is no certain way of making an 
 impression that will last, but by the sterling qualities 
 of Art. And they should acquire and rely on these, 
 and not on the excitement that may be produced 
 by revolting scenes, — an excitement that the most 
 callous mind will the most easily succeed in effecting. 
 
 In speaking of colour to British students, it would 
 be unpardonable to omit speaking of one, now num- 
 bered with the great colourists of the past, and who 
 to the end of his life sat working with the students of 
 the Academy.^ In the summer of 1849, the princi- 
 pal works of William Etty were exhibited, by permis- 
 sion of the Society of Arts, in the Adelphi; and, 
 excepting in the British Gallery, when the works of 
 Reynolds were displayed there in 18 13, I have not 
 seen walls covered with colour so equal in splendour, 
 in truth, and in refinement, as were, on that occasion, 
 the four walls of the Great Room belonging to the 
 Society; and the works there collected afforded 
 abundant proof of the fact that fine pictures gain 
 nothing by time, which had not indeed operated very 
 long on any of them; but where there was a per- 
 ceptible difference of age, the advantage was clearly 
 with the last painted. 
 
 I remember Etty, an indefatigable student at " dear 
 Somerset House," as he called it, before his name was 
 
 1 Before Etty was an Academician, he was asked if, in the 
 event of his election, he would discontinue his habits of study 
 in the Life School, and he answered to the effect that he would 
 not, and that if the members of the Academy considered such 
 habits improper in an Academician, he would rather remain a 
 student than become one. 
 
200 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 known to the public, and when he was looked on by 
 his companions as a worthy plodding person, but with 
 no chance of ever becoming a good painter ; and I 
 have no other recollection of the first pictures he 
 exhibited than as black and colourless attempts at 
 ideal subjects. 
 
 Yet there may have been, in these early works, a 
 feeling of chiaroscuro which I was then unable to 
 estimate ; and, indeed, I have no doubt that he knew 
 a great deal more of the Art than I did, or others 
 who, like myself, could see no promise in his first 
 attempts. 
 
 One morning, however, thirty-three years ago, he 
 "awoke famous." It was the morning after the 
 opening of the Academy Exhibition of 182 1, in 
 which his splendid composition of "Cleopatra on 
 the Cydnus " had, the day before, unveiled his genius 
 to the public. In the previous year he had gained 
 the admiration of the painters by his beautiful picture 
 of the "Coral Finders," after having exhibited two or 
 three pictures annually for nine years to no pur- 
 pose. 
 
 How often he had sent pictures to the Exhibitions 
 before any of them were received, I know not. His 
 own account of his early disappointments is deeply, 
 painfully interesting. "I got one, two, three, per- 
 haps half a dozen, pictures ready ; ordered smart gilt 
 frames, and boldly sent them, properly marked, and 
 with a list of prices. ... In due time I went to 
 inquire their fate. Samuel Strowger, the Royal 
 Academy porter, and only male model, brought forth 
 the book of fate. ' Four out, and two doubtful ! ' 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 201 
 
 Here was a blow ! Well, still there is hope ! two, 
 no doubt, will get in. No, were returned, both at 
 the Royal Academy and the British Gallery, year 
 after year ! Can this be ? — am I awake ? — where are 
 all my dreams of success — the flattering tale of hope 
 — where ? Driven almost to madness, the sun shone 
 no sunshine to me; darkness visible enveloped me, 
 and Despair almost marked me for her own." 
 
 On comparing dates, it appears that he must have 
 been thirty-four years of age when the "Cleopatra" 
 made him known to the world; and he had been 
 devoted to the Art, in mind at least, from child- 
 hood. 
 
 The works of few painters, collected, would present 
 an appearance so equal in colour as did Etty's pic- 
 tures when they were seen together. Nothing is 
 more generally striking in such exhibitions than the 
 very different styles of the different periods of practice. 
 But in Etty, after his powers were fully developed, 
 there was little change ; certainly no change of prin- 
 ciple, for from that time he was right. 
 
 But it would be doing him great injustice to con- 
 fine our admiration to his colour. Many other high 
 qualities are to be found in his works ; though not 
 without an intermixture of alloy; such an intermix- 
 ture, indeed, that I could well imagine a cold-blooded 
 critic looking round the exhibition in the Adelphi, 
 and quoting the words addressed by Mitchell to 
 Thomson, — 
 
 Beauties and faults so thick lie scattered here, 
 Those I could praise, if these were not so near. " 
 
202 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 And such a one would well deserve the indignant reply 
 of the poet : — , ^ 
 
 ** Why all not faults 1 injurious critic, why 
 Appears one beauty to thy blasting eye ? " 
 
 But Mr. Gilchrist, a critic of another order, in a 
 review of this exhibition, says, with great truth, " We 
 can scarcely encounter the slightest performance of 
 Etty's hand, on which is not plainly stamped the broad 
 character in deed or manner." And I will add 
 
 that even the little pictures of still life, of fruit and of 
 flowers, with which he occasionally amused himself, 
 are proofs of this, — dashed off, as they are, with a zest 
 so far above the painful trifling of such painters as Van 
 Huysem. 
 
 Though Etty had not studied landscape in its minute 
 details, he had a genuine feeling for its amenity. 
 No painter ever suggested more delightfully the glow 
 of summer noonday, and many of his landscape back- 
 grounds are as remarkable for their perfect finish, at a 
 distance, as for their boldness of execution, discoverable 
 on a near approach — " masterly without rudeness.'' 
 
 His moonlit seas, his deep blue skies, and that 
 expanse of rippling water which separates the gilded 
 boat from the frame of his picture in the Vernon 
 Gallery, are things soon enumerated, but of the rarest 
 occurrence in Art, with such beauty and truth as he 
 gave to them, and are the natural offspring of such 
 a life f'.s he describes his own to have been. 
 
 Before he began to study the Art, he served a 
 seven years' apprenticeship in a printing-oflice, having 
 been bound at the " tender age of eleven and a half ! " 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 203 
 
 Alluding to this, he says : " My life has been, since 
 I was free from bondage and pursuing the retreating 
 phantom of Fame, like the boy running after the rain- 
 bow, — my life has been, I say (with the exception of 
 some dark thunderclouds of sorrow, disappointment, 
 and deprivation), one long summer day ; spent in exer- 
 tions to excel, struggles with difficulty, sometimes Her- 
 culean exertions, both of mind and body ; mixed with 
 poetic day-dreams and reveries by imaginary enchanted 
 streams. I have passed sweetly and pleasantly along, 
 — now chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy, and 
 regretting my inability to do greater and better things ; 
 but God is good, and I desire in all my thoughts to 
 give Him glory in the highest, that He has blessed me 
 and mine with a fair reputation and the solid com- 
 forts of life in a degree beyond my deserts ; and I now 
 retire from the arena with the best feelings of peace 
 and good-will to my brethren of the Art, for their 
 uniform kindness, consideration, and support, in my 
 long professional career." 
 
 To me, the most impressive of his pictures is the 
 last of the three from the story of Joan of Arc ; and 
 I would here dwell on it as illustrating what I have 
 said on the treatment of tragic subjects ; and though 
 this picture and its companions are inferior in com- 
 pletion to the magnificent series from the history of 
 Judith, yet they place Etty higher, as a master of sen- 
 timent, though perhaps only because the story is of 
 more interest. The subject of this one, the execution 
 of Joan, is thus described by the painter : " She had 
 called for a crucifix, a soldier tied two pieces of wood 
 together in the form, and gave it to her ; she clasped it 
 
204 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 to her bosom as the emblem of her redemption ; in 
 the meanwhile, Father Avenel, a monk, having pro- 
 cured one, made his way through the crowd, and 
 endangered himself several times to administer con- 
 solation to her, till she, perceiving his danger, begged 
 of him at last to consult his own safety, and leave her 
 to her fate ! As the smoke and flames cleared away, 
 she was seen clasping the crucifix, and her voice was 
 heard calling on the name of Jesus ! Tradition says, 
 a white dove was seen flying towards Heaven." 
 
 I can call to mind no picture of such a subject ap- 
 proaching to it in pathos, and, at the same time, so 
 entirely free from all false sentiment. — In looking at it 
 I can think only of the heroine and her fate (so dis- 
 graceful to two great nations), for the mind is not 
 drawn from this by any studied elegance in her atti- 
 tude or in the dark drapery that invests her, as she 
 stands appealing to Heaven with a faith which does 
 not yet conquer her terrors of a frightful death. — The 
 careful manner in which the quaint old houses in the 
 background are painted gives a dreadful reality to the 
 scene, and instead of the usual commonplace accom- 
 paniment to such subjects, of a lurid sky, Etty has 
 shown the heavens clear as the soul which is about to 
 wing its way from a cruel world, — and, like a true 
 poet, he has availed himself of the reported incident 
 of the dove rising in snowy brightness. 
 
 Something of the mannerism, in forms and attitudes, 
 of the Lawrence and Westall schools, which in senti- 
 ment were the same, may be seen in Etty's Art. 
 That this should be the case, however, was the almost 
 inevitable result of his placing himself in early life 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 205 
 
 under Lawrence : — so difficult are the impressions 
 received in youth to be effaced, even where, as with 
 Etty, there is great originaHty and strength of mind. 
 
 He has told us, in his Autobiography, that though 
 he painted in the house of Sir Thomas, he received 
 little or no instruction from him. Still, the contem- 
 plation and copying the works of that eminent man 
 could not but in some degree affect his style, and 
 indeed the Art of Lawrence had so much of fascina- 
 tion in it as to maintain a widely-spread influence 
 over the rising talent of the day; and gradually to 
 undermine till it almost entirely superseded the taste 
 imparted by Reynolds and Gainsborough to English 
 portraiture. 
 
 If Etty acquired a tinge of something in the house 
 of Lawrence which he might better have been with- 
 out, it is greatly to his praise that he came from it a 
 colourist destined to rank with the very best that 
 have lived ; for the school of the great portrait-painter 
 was certainly not one of colour. But I believe his 
 first impressions of harmony were derived more from 
 Fuseli, who, even if his pictures did not prove his 
 sensibility to the refinements of colour, has sufficiently 
 shown it in his lectures, and in no sentence more 
 than in that in which he tells us he had always 
 "courted colour as a despairing lover courts a dis- 
 dainful mistress." A mistress, as I have before 
 noticed, much less disdainful than he imagined. 
 
 There is a question on which it may not appear to 
 be my province to enter ; but it is one which Etty's 
 peculiar treatment of and choice of subjects must 
 present to most minds ; — I mean the question of how 
 
2o6 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 far his frequent preference of the nude may or may 
 not be defended. It is true that in entire nudity 
 there may be nothing objectionable, while figures 
 clothed to the chin, if but an eye be seen, may convey 
 the grossest meanings. But I scarcely remember a 
 female face by Etty in which the expression is im- 
 pure ; and if I wished for a personification of inno- 
 cence, I know no painter's works among which I 
 could more readily find very many instances that 
 would answer to it. I remember, years ago, borrow- 
 ing from him to copy, a head of a young girl, of such 
 angelic purity of expression, that I returned it after 
 having destroyed all the attempts I made to repeat it, 
 because, in all, I had failed to catch the beauty either 
 of the expression or of the colour. 
 
 In considering the question of the propriety or im- 
 propriety of nudity, I can call to mind no display of 
 it in the works of Raphael, of Stothard, or of Flax- 
 man, that seems to me objectionable. But this I 
 cannot say of the works of Titian, Correggio, Rubens, 
 and others of the great colourists, masters between 
 whom and Etty there was more in common. 
 
 He was aware of the imputations that were cast on 
 his character by those who knew him only in his 
 works. — " I have been accused," he writes, " of being 
 a shocking and immoral man." And in another part 
 of his Autobiography, so deeply interesting to all who 
 knew him, for all who did knew his entire sincerity, 
 he sayj, "As a worshipper of beauty, whether it be 
 seen in a weed, a flower, or in that most interesting 
 form of humanity, lovely woman, an intense admirer 
 of it, and its Almighty author, — if at any time I have 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 207 
 
 forgotten the boundary line that I ought not to have 
 passed, and tended to voluptuousness, I implore His 
 pardon. I have never wished to seduce others from 
 the path and practice of virtue, which alone leads to 
 happiness here and hereafter; and if in any of my 
 pictures an immoral sentiment has been aimed at, I 
 consent it should be burnt; but I never recollect 
 being actuated in Painting by any such sentiment." 
 
 The apology which he makes for his extraordinary 
 predilection for the nude, namely, that " he preferred 
 painting the glorious works of God to draperies, the 
 works of man," is based on the mistake of considering 
 artificial objects as less poetic than natural ones ; an 
 error which has been completely exposed by Lord 
 Byron in his controversy with Mr. Bowles. 
 
 Etty's Art was in the end substantially rewarded. 
 But I fear the extent to which he was patronised 
 must not be entirely considered as proceeding from a 
 pure love and true appreciation of what is excellent 
 in painting. It cannot be doubted that the display of 
 the female form, in very many instances, recommended 
 his pictures more powerfully than their admirable Art ; 
 while I entirely believe that he himself, thinking and 
 meaning no evil, was not aware of the manner in 
 which his works were regarded by grosser minds."^ 
 
 1 Painters must not be unmindful that a display of nudity 
 exposes their works to alterations by unskilful hands. Un- 
 skilful, because the presumption that would alter the work of 
 another is rarely to be found in those who are capable of doing 
 it well. The grand lines of Michael Angelo's Last Judgment " 
 were disturbed while he was yet living, to satisfy the modesty 
 of the bigoted persecutor, Paul IV., who wished to destroy the 
 
2o8 ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 From my own knowledge, I am enabled to say of 
 Etty, that his conduct as an Academician was in- 
 variably marked by the most unremitting and disin- 
 terested zeal for the prosperity and honour of the 
 society of which he was so distinguished an orna- 
 ment. He considered, indeed, the welfare of the 
 Academy as identical with the general welfare of the 
 Arts of his country. Naturally shy, he never spoke 
 at our meetings without a great effort, yet never was 
 he silent on any occasion on which he thought he 
 could serve the institution. There was a simplicity 
 and sincerity in his manner that greatly attached his 
 friends ; and I never could discover in him the least 
 sign of jealousy or other unworthy feeling towards 
 any of his brother artists. I knew much of him in 
 the early part of his career ; and, destined as he was 
 to see many of his fellow-students, younger than him- 
 self, pass by him mto notice and patronage, while he 
 was still working in obscurity, no murmur escaped 
 him, no expression of envy towards those who, often 
 with far less of merit, wxre outstripping him in the 
 road to fame. 
 
 I have more than once alluded to the inferiority in 
 colour of Rubens to the greatest of the Venetian 
 painters ; and yet I am not sure that the impression 
 of such an inferiority may not be owing to the fact 
 
 entire work ; and the Graces in Rubens's Education of Mary de 
 Medici? " have been draped, to the great injury of the picture. 
 
 Such meddling cannot be too strongly reprobated, and I 
 must not let this opportunity pass without noticing that some 
 of Etty's beautiful studies from the life have been ruined by the 
 addition of backgrounds since his death. 
 
ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 209 
 
 that a very great portion of the works that pass for 
 his are his only in conception and composition, for 
 there never was so large a manufactory of Art as that 
 of which he was the head ; and if by such a system 
 as he established at Antwerp the world is a gainer in 
 the quantity of great works, it is a loser in their 
 quality, 
 
 I suspect that something of the same system may 
 account for the extreme difference in colour discover- 
 able in the works of Nicolo Poussin, which cannot 
 be attributed to the changes of time, or the obtrusion 
 of the dark grounds of some of them ; for his inferior 
 pictures are not only dull in tone, patchy in the 
 colour of the draperies, and dingy in the flesh, but 
 they are feeble and tame in execution, and the figures 
 often short and ill drawn, the faces having the look 
 of masks, from the hard marking of the flesh round 
 the eyes. Many of this class are in the Louvre, which, 
 had I met with them anywhere else, I should have 
 believed to be indifferent copies. 
 
 His subjects from classic fable, and his landscapes, 
 are, with but few exceptions, those in which he shows 
 himself a colourist; and, indeed, it is evident that 
 these, more than any others, are the subjects he loved. 
 In our National Gallery, the "Cephalus and Aurora," 
 and the "Education of Bacchus," and the "Sleeping 
 Nymph," are the finest specimens of his colour; the 
 last, indeed, is the finest I ever saw. We look at 
 them all, however, through a coating of reddish-yellow 
 varnish, through which Poussin never saw his pictures, 
 and of which I shall again speak. 
 
 The just reproach of Fuseli, that "crudity and 
 
2IO ON COLOUR AND CHIAROSCURO 
 
 patches frequently deform his effects," though it may 
 not be entirely owing to the employment by Poussin 
 of another hand to execute his designs, is, I believe, 
 mainly attributable to this, while the wide difference in 
 colour discoverable in the landscapes of Claude is the 
 result of what Constable was the first to notice, namely, 
 the decline of his powers with declining age. " We 
 are not always," he said, "buying a Claude when we 
 are buying a picture painted by him;" and the land- 
 scape bequeathed to the National Gallery by Mr. 
 Hollwell Carr, " David at the Cave of Adullam," is an 
 instance of the loss of his brightness of colour towards 
 the close of his life. 
 
 If painters, at an advanced age, often cease to be 
 themselves, so, in early youth, there is a time of their 
 practice before they begin to be themselves. I do not, 
 however, think that a picture, with the name of Gior- 
 gione, lately added to the National Gallery, can be a 
 specimen of the early practice of any painter. The 
 figure in armour, sprawling on his knees, is the best 
 thing in it ; but I can scarcely believe this figure, and 
 assuredly not the Madonna and Child, to be the work 
 of Giorgione, who had always a fine sense of grace 
 and dignity. Nor is the absence of these qualities 
 atoned for by anything that impresses me as religious 
 sentiment, nor by any remarkable excellence of the 
 colour, of which it can only be said that it is not in- 
 harmonious. 
 
 As in drawing, the general practice in schools is to 
 begin with copying statuary, so in painting the usual 
 practice is to commence with copying pictures. But 
 this, if continued too long, is apt to become a mere 
 
ON COPYING PICTURES 
 
 211 
 
 employment of the hand and eye, with which the mind 
 has little to do. There is not, however, much need of 
 a caution on this point, as they who are likely to dis- 
 tinguish themselves by original works do not belong 
 to that class that continue year after year to multiply 
 misrepresentations of the old masters, or to avail them- 
 selves of the privileges of copying pictures in the 
 National and British Galleries, and in the Royal 
 Academy, for the purpose of selling their copies. He 
 who wishes to become a painter will not part with his 
 copies, but will keep them constantly in sight, covering 
 the walls of his rooms with them, and with the best 
 engravings he can procure from the best pictures, 
 instead of hanging up his own works, and he will daily 
 see in these some beauty unobserved before, and thus 
 gradually acquire principles not to be communicated 
 in any other way, as good manners are acquired by 
 living constantly in the best society. 
 
 The student who is destined to distinguish himself 
 will acquire the principles of his Art from all objects 
 that surround him. He will find even the spoons and 
 glasses on his table full of instruction in the exquisite 
 beauties resulting from the reflection and refraction 
 of light, the laws of which, as I have endeavoured 
 to show, are the laws of Nature's harmony. He will 
 see that silver is more beautiful than gold, and colour- 
 
 i less glass more beautiful than coloured, because 
 they reflect the hues of surrounding objects more 
 
 i vividly. 
 
 ; I cannot but look on the late introduction of the 
 j gayest colours into the manufacture of glass as among 
 ! the many symptoms of the decline of taste in orna- 
 
212 ON COP YING PICTURES 
 
 mental manufactures, arising from that growing love 
 of vulgar finery that has led to so much of mistaken 
 and clumsy imitation of the Louis Quatorze and 
 mediaeval styles of furniture.-^ But, in saying this, I 
 must not be thought insensible to the beauty of the 
 old stained windows of our cathedrals, though in the 
 modern imitation of these I have rarely seen instances 
 of success. 
 
 But to return to the subject of copying. I have 
 often observed in the painting school of the Academy, 
 that the attention of students is too anxiously directed 
 to the discovery of the materials used in the picture 
 they are studying. It may be useful to ascertain these, 
 but it is seldom easy, and often not possible, and the 
 great object in copying should be to look for the prin- 
 ciples from which the beauties of the picture result, 
 independently of the mere pigments employed in it. 
 With respect to these, and the vehicles used by the 
 great painters of the Flemish school, we may learn far 
 more from Sir Charles Eastlake's " Materials for the 
 History of Oil Painting, ''^ than we can ever learn by 
 copying their pictures. 
 
 Assuming that this invaluable work is in the hands 
 of every painter, I will merely offer a few general 
 
 ^ Every age of this country has been marked by a style in 
 furniture which, whether good or bad, had at least a distinct 
 character of some degree of originality, down to the present 
 century, which seems destined to leave behind it a confusion of 
 styles, which will be distinguished only from those they mimic 
 by the blunders that are unavoidable in all attempts at literal 
 imitation in Art, or even in manufactures. 
 
 2 Sir Charles has promised us a volume on the Italian 
 Schools. 
 
ON VEHICLES 
 
 213 
 
 observations on the subject of vehicles, the result of 
 my own experience, now extending over a space of 
 more than forty years. 
 
 The "Venetian secret," as it is called, has little to 
 do with chemical secrets, for I am persuaded that 
 Titian would have coloured as finely as he did with 
 the materials used by any school, while the colours or 
 grounds of Titian would not have enabled David to 
 imitate flesh. "He," as Fuseli says, "who cannot 
 use the worst materials, will disgrace the best." It is 
 very important, however, that the causes that so often 
 lead to the premature decay of pictures should be 
 understood, for unfortunately some of the greatest 
 painters of the British school have been lamentably 
 careless in this matter. The intense desire of Reynolds 
 to obtain every possible charm of colour, tempted him 
 too often to use the most fugitive pigments, because 
 they were the most beautiful, and to heighten their 
 effects by ruinous mixtures of wax, varnishes, etc. ; 
 and in this he was followed by Turner, some of whose 
 pictures I have known to crack before the exhibition 
 was closed in which they first appeared.^ Many of 
 Wilkie's pictures have suffered from being varnished 
 too soon, or from the inordinate use of macgilp made 
 of drying oil and mastic varnish, and the use also of 
 asphaltum, a material which I believe never thoroughly 
 dries, but is apt to crack like pitch on a fence. 
 
 The simplest mode of painting is the most secure ; 
 and it is evident that by methods extremely simple 
 many of the great colourists have produced their 
 
 1 Turner often used water-colours over oil, and then again 
 oil-colours over water. 
 
214 
 
 ON VEHICLES 
 
 finest works, and among these may be named Titian 
 himself. I have seen exquisitely-coloured pictures 
 by Jan Steen, as perfect in their surface and as free 
 from the slightest change as if they were painted but 
 yesterday, evidently from the use of virgin tints only, 
 tints not produced either by glazing or scumbling. 
 And the same simple method seems to have been the 
 general practice of Paul Veronese. Not that trans- 
 parent colours were excluded, but that a thin filmy 
 method of obtaining the tints was avoided. 
 
 All dryers are in some degree injurious, and I have 
 little doubt that, by working more leisurely than we 
 do, by not overloading our colours, or by proceeding 
 with more than one picture at a time, so as to allow 
 each sufiicient intervals of rest, dryers of every kind 
 may be dispensed with, from sugar of lead to drying 
 oil. 
 
 If, in the extreme beauty of his colour, the example 
 of Reynolds has been of inestimable value, yet with 
 respect to many of the means by which he wrought 
 — means not essential to his end — the precedents he 
 established have been injurious. His practice, at one 
 time, of beginning his faces in light and shadow 
 merely, and adding the colour by glazing, has not 
 only left among his works many beautiful wrecks of 
 beautiful faces, but has led to a very common practice 
 among students, of preparing their flesh for glazing, 
 and thus beginning with tints unlike the object in 
 Nature at which they are looking. This method is 
 injurious to the sensibility of the eye, and it is 
 assuredly best, from the very beginning, to endeavour 
 at exact imitation of the colour of the object before 
 
ON FRESCO 
 
 215 
 
 us, a practice Reynolds himself adopted at a later 
 period of his life. 
 
 Some of our painters were not a little alarmed at 
 the introduction of fresco, lest it should bring with it 
 a neglect of the beauties of colour. But though in- 
 capable of the deep transparency of oil, it does not 
 preclude its lighter and gayer effects, and Etty's three 
 fresco sketches from " Comus/' now in the possession 
 of Mr. Wethered, are charming proofs of this. 
 
 When the decoration of the walls of the Houses of 
 Parliament was proposed, Mr. Haydon delivered an 
 admirable lecture at the Royal Institution, in which 
 he thus contrasts the effects of fresco and oil : — " The 
 power of fresco lies in light ; the power of oil in depth 
 and tone. Oil is luminous in shadow — fresco in light. 
 A mighty space of luminous depth and * darkness 
 visible ' gives a murky splendour to a hall or public 
 building. A mighty space of silvery breadth and 
 genial fleshiness, with lovely faces, and azure draperies, 
 and sunny clouds, and heroic forms, elevates the 
 spirits, and gives a gaiety and triumphant joy to 
 the mind. The less shadow in decoration the 
 better." 
 
 The specimens of fresco by Mr. Redgrave, Mr. 
 Cope, and Mr. Horsley, lately placed in the shade 
 and between windows at Hampton Court, show in a 
 striking manner how admirably it is adapted to situ- 
 ations in which oil-painting would be lost. The 
 quantity of light received and reflected by their 
 grounds of lime is really wonderful. 
 
 The subjects treated in this section are not uncon- 
 nected with the vexed question of picture-cleaning; 
 
2i6 ON PICTURE-CLEANING 
 
 and I will conclude it, therefore, with some remarks 
 on this very important matter. 
 
 Pictures, like ourselves, are not only subject to the 
 inevitable decay of age, but to a variety of diseases 
 caused by heat, cold, damp, and foul air.^ Many, 
 and they, too, are among the most delicate and beau- 
 tiful, have, like Leonardo's "Last Supper," and a 
 large proportion of the works of Watteau, of Rey- 
 nolds, and of Turner, unsound constitutions given to 
 them by the authors of their existence, and are thus 
 subject to premature and rapid destruction. These 
 liabilities, and the many accidents to which they are 
 exposed, have made picture-restorers as important a 
 class in Art as physicians and surgeons in life ; and, 
 as might naturally be expected, there are many un- 
 skilful among them, and many ignorant quacks. 
 Still we cannot dispense with their aid, and nobody 
 can be acquainted long with Art, and not have noticed 
 many instances of the restoration of pictures, if not to 
 their entire original condition, yet infinitely nearer to 
 it than could be imagined possible. Within the last 
 year, the restorations effected by Mr. Bentley of many 
 of the pictures of Mr. Thomas Baring's collection, 
 
 1 To this last evil — one very injurious to pictures — the Na- 
 tional Collection will remain exposed as long as the indiscrimi- 
 nate admission of the public is continued, and by which the 
 rooms are often so crowded that nobody can see the pictures, 
 which, in the meantime, are suffering greatly from the dust 
 carried in, and the atmosphere that is generated. Why might 
 not an office, not far from the Gallery, be established, at which 
 tickets should only be given to those who can write their names ? 
 It may safely be affirmed that fine pictures can afford no instruc- 
 tion to those who cannot. 
 
ON PICTURE-CLEANING 
 
 which seemed irreparably injured by fire, were truly 
 wonderful. Here I can speak feelingly. A picture 
 of my own was so changed by heat and smoke (in 
 some parts light colours turned to black), that 
 could do nothing towards its recovery short of re- 
 painting the whole; yet it was restored by Mr. 
 Bentley. Another remarkable instance of skill in 
 this art is the well-known reunion of the halves of one 
 of the very finest pictures of Cuyp, the sunset view of 
 Dort, belonging to Mr. Holford.-^ This was effected 
 by Mr. Brown, the difficulty being rendered very great 
 by the circumstance that the picture had been cut 
 through a portion consisting of bright sky and water. 
 Such are the triumphs of restoration, of which I could 
 mention other instances within my own knowledge, 
 effected by Mr. Seguier, who has been so often assailed 
 for having removed nothing but dirt from those 
 pictures in the National Gallery with the cleansing 
 of which he was entrusted. But then, on the other 
 hand, I could tell of injuries nearly amounting to 
 destruction, inflicted by ignorant pretenders to the 
 art. I remember some of the most beautiful works of 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds at the British Gallery in 1813, 
 almost as they came from his hand, which I have 
 since met with, rubbed down to the dead colour, and 
 then again, after a short interval, smeared over with 
 
 1 In this picture there is a beautiful gradation from warm to 
 cool colour in the sky ; and when divided, the warmer half was 
 called Evening," and the cooler Morning." 
 
 I have heard that the picture of the * * Ages of Human Life, " 
 in the Bridgewater collection, narrowly escaped being cut in 
 two when it was brought to England. 
 
2 1 8 ON PICTURE- CLEANING 
 
 brown varnish, under the pretence of restoring the 
 tone. 
 
 The attacks that have been so unsparingly directed 
 against the cleaning of pictures in the National Gal- 
 lery, have been generally founded on the assumption 
 that the tone of a fine picture is always imparted to 
 it by a general glazing, and that, in the removal of 
 this, its most valuable quality is destroyed. But it 
 is so far from being true that the best colourists 
 finished their pictures with a general glaze, that I 
 believe the cases in which they have done so have 
 been exceptional. Reynolds sometimes, but not 
 always, did this ; and it appears, by his own account, 
 to have been the invariable practice of Mr. Haydon : 
 but I know it was not the practice of Turner, of 
 Etty, of Constable, or of Wilkie, and I feel confident 
 it was not of Paul Veronese, Rubens, Claude, the 
 Poussins, or Cannalletti. 
 
 Much has been said about what has been taken 
 fro77i the pictures in the National Gallery, but nothing 
 about what has been put on them. I do not believe 
 that anything injurious has been added to them since 
 the establishment of the Gallery, unless it may be oil 
 varnish, which has become more yellow ; but about 
 the beginning of the present century it was not un- 
 frequent for the possessors of old pictures to have 
 them to7ied^ as it w^as called. The noble landscape 
 by Rubens, then the property of Sir George Beau- 
 mont, was saturated with linseed oil to prevent its 
 scaling from its panel, and this was suffered to dry on 
 the surface. There is, therefore, under the deep 
 yellow coating that now covers it, a fresh and natural 
 
ON PICTURE-CLEANING 219 
 
 picture, the picture Rubens left, and which the world 
 may never be permitted to see again. The "St. 
 Nicholas" of Paul Veronese has been happily re- 
 lieved from the brown glaze or oil bestowed on it 
 forty or fifty years ago ; but Sebastian Del Piombo's 
 "Raising of Lazarus,"-^ remains still under the 
 gradually - deepening obscurity it was consigned to 
 about the same time ; and so do the large landscape 
 by Salvator Rosa, the landscape called "Phocian,'' 
 by Nicolo Poussin, and others, which, taking these as 
 guides, will easily be discovered as involved in the 
 same misfortune. Goldsmith, in the " Vicar of Wake- 
 field," tells us, what no doubt he himself had seen, 
 that a would-be connoisseur in an auction -room, 
 " after giving his opinion that the colouring of a pic- 
 ture was not mellow enough, very deliberately took a 
 brush with brown varnish that was accidentally lying 
 by, and rubbed it over the piece with great compo- 
 sure before the company, and then asked if he had 
 not improved the tints." I have myself seen a com- 
 mon workman in an auction-room smear a thick coat 
 of varnish over a fine picture, in the most hurried and 
 careless manner, to make it look well at the sale, — 
 and I am sorry to say that even respectable dealers 
 are apt to load with varnish, to an injurious degree, 
 pictures they are anxious to sell. 
 
 1 In the great room of the Louvre hangs a fine picture by 
 Sebastian, "The Meeting of Mary and EHzabeth," which re- 
 mains as the painter left it, and there cannot be a greater con- 
 trast in tone than it presents to the " Raising of Lazarus." 
 
SECTION XIII 
 
 On the Colour of RaphaeV s Cartoons^ and their 
 Presenrntion 
 
 In the last section I briefly alluded to the colour 
 of Raphael's Cartoons, a thing, however, not to be 
 slightly passed over, as I believe they are the most 
 entire specimens of the work of his own hand, when 
 in the meridian of his powers, that exist. The very 
 fact of their being Cartoons, as I have before noticed, 
 seems conclusive ; and though the herons in the 
 '^Miraculous Draught of Fishes," were painted by 
 Giovanni d'Udine,^ and the pillars of the " Beautiful 
 Gate " by another assistant, I have no doubt that in 
 the faces, figures, and draperies; in all, indeed, ex- 
 cepting those subordinate parts which might as well 
 be trusted to others, we see the work of Raphael's own 
 fingers. 
 
 1 Fuseli objects to the introduction of the herons, but when 
 it is remembered that these birds were and are held sacred in 
 the East, being considered emblematic of piety, their presence is 
 certainly not out of place, and their tameness in approaching so 
 close to the figures is accounted for. One of them elevates its 
 head in the act of drinking, an action noticed by Bunyan in 
 domestic fowls as expressive of giving thanks to Heaven, and it 
 may not, perhaps, be an over-refinement to suppose that such a 
 thought occurred also to Raphael. 
 
COLOUR OF RAPHAEL'S CARTOONS 221 
 
 If they have not the excellences of Paul Veronese, 
 still the colour of the Cartoons is clear, healthy, and 
 vigorous, and the value of gray in everywhere setting 
 off the positive colours, is as fully felt as in works 
 that may be referred to as models of colour. The 
 finest in effect appears to me to be the " Punishment 
 of Elymas," a picture that would not, when the limits 
 of distemper are considered, detract from a Venetian 
 reputation. 
 
 Among the changes in them by time or accident, 
 the loss of red from the mantle of the Saviour in the 
 "Miraculous Draught of Fishes" cannot admit a 
 doubt. The reflection of it in the water is red, and 
 we know that red and blue are colours very rarely de- 
 parted from in the drapery of the Saviour, excepting 
 at the transfiguration and after the resurrection. The 
 white, shaded with umber, of the mantle as it now ap- 
 pears, is evidently according to a method in which 
 many of the draperies have been prepared, and to 
 which colour has been added by a thin glaze or wash. 
 In the "Sacrifice at Lystra," the dress of the priestess 
 who kneels immediately behind the man holding the 
 bull, has been prepared in this manner, after which a 
 tint of green has been passed over it, which time or 
 accident has completely removed from the greater 
 portion of the umber and white, as the red is gone 
 from the drapery in the "Miraculous Draught." If 
 the experiment be tried, of making a coloured sketch 
 of this cartoon, substituting a red mantle for the 
 white one, it will be seen at once that a balance of 
 colour is given to the picture, which it now wants. 
 
 A probable difference between the choice of colours 
 
222 COLOUR OF RAPHAEL'S CARTOONS, 
 
 by Raphael, and what it might have been by Paul 
 Veronese, were he capable of conceiving the Cartoons, 
 would perhaps have shown itself, not in more, but in 
 less of gaiety in the colours of the draperies. Raphael 
 has not, in any instance, made use of black, which no 
 Venetian painter would have omitted; and in com- 
 paring the colour of these great works with the 
 general treatment of similar subjects by Paul 
 Veronese, we must feel how unfounded is the supposi- 
 tion of Sir Joshua Reynolds, that Venetian colour is 
 inconsistent with Roman design. 
 
 It is said that when Tintoret was asked which were 
 the most beautiful colours, he replied "black and 
 white." Whether he meant to mark the importance 
 of light and shadow, or that black and white, though 
 in themselves not colours, give the greatest possible 
 value by contrast to every colour, it is certain that he, 
 like all the other great Venetians, availed himself of 
 black and white with consummate skill, as did the 
 later Dutch school, and this seems to me one point in 
 which the colour of these schools has an advantage 
 over that of Raphael; while another superior excel- 
 lence of the Venetians and the Dutch lies in the 
 taste with which they managed the infinite variety of 
 tints to which we can give no names. 
 
 There is a small picture by Paul Veronese at 
 Hampton Court, a Saint Catherine kneeling at an 
 altar, with other figures, in which the hues are so 
 negativ e that no tint can be called red, blue, yellow, 
 or green. Yet it is a beautiful harmony, and as far 
 removed from monotony as from dulness. By com- 
 paring this with the Cartoons, the student will see, in 
 
AND THEIR PRESERVATION 
 
 223 
 
 respect to choice of colour, where Raphael and Paul 
 Veronese differ, — while in another St. Catherine, by 
 the latter (a larger picture), No. 95, he will see where 
 their choice is alike. 
 
 I cannot but think it a misfortune that the Royal 
 Academy is in possession of Thornhiirs poor copies 
 of the Cartoons; a misfortune that such misrepresenta- 
 tions of so great a master should be constantly 
 before our students. But it rests with themselves to 
 turn it to some account ; for if they will make frequent 
 visits to Hampton Court, and carry with them the 
 recollection of the poverty of Thornhill, they will more 
 highly estimate the riches of Raphael. 
 
 There is a great difference, not in degree, but in 
 kind, between the natural, fresh, daylight of the Car- 
 toons, and the heavy conventional colour of some of 
 the large and late works of Raphael in the Louvre, 
 such as the " Holy Family," in which the child is 
 springing into his mother's arms from a cradle, and 
 the "St. Michael piercing Satan." My belief is, that 
 these pictures were never touched by him, and that 
 he only furnished the Cartoons, probably in chalk, 
 and without colour. If I recollect aright, they were 
 painted for Francis I., who was perhaps content to 
 have copies of designs of Raphael, by his pupib, as it 
 must have been well known how much they painted 
 for their master in the Vatican. There is a repetition 
 of the "St. Michael" in England (in the collection of 
 Mr. Hope), which appears to me in all respects 
 equal to the Louvre picture, and has every appear- 
 ance of being by the same hand; and it is not 
 conceivable that Raphael, overburthened as he was 
 
224 COLOUR OF RAPHAEL'S CARTOONS, 
 
 with employment from the Pope, could find time to 
 make an exact copy of a large picture of his own. 
 
 ST. MICHAEL — BY RAPHAEL. 
 
 The history of the Cartoons is unparalleled in the 
 history of Art. Designed merely as patterns for the 
 ornamental furniture of a chapel,"^ — these, I will not 
 say coarsely painted (for Raphael could paint nothing 
 coarsely), but slightly painted sheets of paper, — in a 
 
 ^ The circumstance of many parts being woven with gold 
 and silver, shows how little the tapestries were considered as 
 anything else than ornament. 
 
AND THEIR PRESERVATION 225 
 
 material precluding many of the most refined charms 
 of Art, as well as many of the most beautiful truths 
 of Nature, and with faults easily discoverable by 
 the most uneducated eye,— rapidly planned and as 
 rapidly executed, — these sheets of paper disprove, for 
 once, a saying, true in most cases, that "pictures 
 painted in a hurry may be seen in a hurry." It is 
 not that they prove the insignificance of the things 
 they want, but that they display the vast powers 
 of him who, with means so insufficient, could be- 
 queath to the world works unequalled in sublimity, 
 excepting by others of his own hand, and by the hand 
 of his great and only rival. 
 
 According to the account given of them in Felix 
 Summerly's "Guide to Hampton Court," the series 
 of the Cartoons consisted of eleven. The death of 
 the Pope before the tapestries were finished or paid 
 for, prevented their return to Rome, and when the 
 weavers had done with them they were thrown aside 
 as waste paper, and " lay in a cellar, neglected, for a 
 hundred years." The seven that escaped destruction 
 were discovered in the time of Rubens, and, by his 
 recommendation, purchased by Charles I., who 
 seemed, however, only to consider them in the light 
 of patterns for tapestry, of which he established a 
 manufactory at Mortlake. Some of the hangings, 
 probably woven there, are at Petworth, and one, 
 " Elymas the Sorcerer," belongs to Hampton Court. 
 But the Cartoons still remained in the condition 
 in which they came to England, that is, cut in slips 
 for the convenience of the weavers, when, at the 
 death of Charles, they were purchased by Cromwell, 
 
 Q 
 
226 COLOUR OF RAPHAEL'S CARTOONS, 
 
 "and hid in deal cases at Whitehall — at least they 
 were so found after the Restoration. Charles II., 
 with less feeling, sold them, rather underhandedly, 
 to the French Minister Barillon, when Lord Danby 
 upset the sale." They were for the first time put 
 together, and placed, by William III., in their pre- 
 sent home, a gallery built for them by Sir Christopher 
 Wren, from which they were removed — to Bucking- 
 ham House in 1776, and thence to Windsor in 1788. 
 The rumour that the Queen Consort of George the 
 Third wished to send them to Germany is probably 
 one of the many falsehoods propagated respecting 
 that lady. 
 
 But before we censure the indifference of former 
 ages, by which they have so often been exposed to 
 destruction, we should do well to inquire how far 
 they are, even now, secured as they should be, in 
 every possible way, from the fate of their companions ; 
 for we are not to suppose, because these seven have 
 so often escaped, they "bear a charmed life." Their 
 preservation is indeed a matter that requires the most 
 serious consideration, for had they even been well en- 
 graved or copied, which they never have, their loss 
 would be irreparable. Their removal from Hampton 
 Court has been more than once suggested ; and when 
 the National Gallery was built, some artists urged the 
 propriety of placing them in it ; but this was wisely 
 opposed by the late Mr. Seguier, on the ground that 
 they would be soon blackened by the smoke of Lon- 
 don, from which they could not be cleaned. The 
 only risk of any kind to which they are exposed, 
 where they are, is, however, an awful one. Were the 
 
AND THEIR PRESERVATION 
 
 room in which they hang to take fire, their destruction 
 would be but the work of a few minutes ; and were 
 the palace to take fire, in a distant part, they could 
 not be removed without certain, and probably great, 
 injury, — for they are too large to pass through the 
 doors or windows. It is frightful therefore to reflect 
 that their present home is not fire-proof; though, on 
 every other account, it is admirably calculated for 
 their preservation. 
 
 I saw them, for the first time, forty-three years ago. 
 Holloway was then engraving them, and the " Sacrifice 
 at Lystra " was standing on the floor. It is the most 
 injured, and my attention was particularly called to 
 its state, and I cannot now detect in it the least 
 change for the worse, nor can I see any alteration in 
 the others. Sir Christopher Wren has shown great 
 judgment in building a room for them as far as he 
 had space at his disposal. No doubt, had it been in 
 his power, he would have made it long enough to 
 admit them in one line opposite the windows, where 
 they would all have received that equal reflected light 
 that the five so placed do receive, and by which they 
 are not only well seen, but less liable to fade than in a 
 stronger light. The room, being to the north, is never 
 invaded by the sun, and scarcely by flies, and those 
 that do find their way to it remain at the windows ; 
 and whenever I have examined the Cartoons closely, 
 I have been unable to detect fly -marks on their 
 surface. It is true they would be better seen some- 
 what lower, but not so well if they stood on the floor, 
 and even then their high horizons would not be level 
 with the spectator's eye. But, indeed, there is a para- 
 
228 PICTURES AT HAMPTON COURT 
 
 mount reason for their high situations, the necessity 
 of their being above the reach of fingers. 
 
 It has been suggested, in case of their removal to 
 London, that they should be covered with glass. This 
 might preserve them from smoke, but it would very 
 much hide them from sight. I have spent much time 
 in this, of all the galleries in England the most in- 
 teresting to an artist, and I can answer for the extreme 
 care taken of the Cartoons by the gentleman who has 
 charge of the state-rooms of the Palace ; and all that 
 can be hoped is, that, if ever there should be a 
 change in their locality, they may be placed where 
 they will be as well cared for. 
 
 Their removal to London, it is to be hoped, will 
 never again be thought of. But might not a fire-proof 
 room, on the plan of their present one, as far as it is 
 advantageous, be connected with the Palace that now 
 holds them ? 
 
 Although, at Hampton Court there are a great 
 number of mere furniture pictures, yet, independently 
 of the Cartoons, the collection is interesting as con- 
 taining a few of the remains of that splendid one 
 formed by Charles I. Of these the Tintorets, the 
 " Esther," and the Muses," are the most important, 
 and I know not that there are any other works of 
 Tintoret in England equal to them. There are also 
 some fine Bassans, though few of these are placed 
 where they can be seen, and an excellent Palma, the 
 "Shepherd's Offering." Of the pictures by Jan de 
 Mabuse (James IV. of Scotland and his Queen), that 
 of the king is the finest. The face of the king has 
 been injured and repainted, but the rest of the picture 
 
PICTURES A T HAMPTON COURT 229 
 
 is in a good condition, and the effect of the whole is 
 surprisingly fresh and bright in colour.-"- The " Ador- 
 ation of the Magi," by Carlo Cagliari, is also a fine 
 specimen of colour, and, being in a very good con- 
 dition, I would strongly recommend it as a study, 
 though it is not possible to see the entire picture from 
 any one point, as it is placed opposite to the windows 
 of the room. Indeed it is much to be regretted that 
 the best pictures in this collection are, in but few in- 
 stances, placed where they can well be seen, while so 
 much space is occupied by large works of no interest 
 or merit, such as the Sebastian Riccis, and Kneller's 
 equestrian picture of William III. Of the portraits, of 
 which there are many good ones, I shall have occa- 
 sion to speak in another section. A very interesting 
 portion of the pictures collected by Charles I. is the 
 series, in distemper, by Andrea Mantegna, represent- 
 ing a triumph of Julius Caesar. Essentially opposed 
 as their early and immature style is to that of Rubens, 
 
 1 Pilkington, who makes Jan de Mabuse too young to have 
 painted them, is corrected by Bryant, who, no doubt, rightly 
 dates his birth in or near the year in which Albert Durer was 
 born. These pictures were, evidently, the wings or shutters to 
 an altar-piece, probably destroyed during the Reformation in Scot- 
 land. On the reverse of the first is painted God supporting the 
 body of Christ, and on the other a portrait of a middle-aged man 
 kneeling, and behind him two angels, one of whom plays on an 
 organ. The four pictures are not unworthy of Albert Durer 
 himself; they require some little reparation, and are richly 
 deserving of every possible care. They, as well as the little, 
 highly-finished, faded picture of three of the children of Henry 
 VII., disprove, I think, the authenticity of the **Adam and 
 Eve," and another picture at Hampton Court, attributed to Jan 
 de Mabuse. 
 
230 PICTURES AT HAMPTON COURT 
 
 still their gaiety and picturesque magnificence must 
 have been very captivating to the great restorer of the 
 Flemish school, as, on the most beautiful of the series, 
 that where the elephants appear, he founded a rich 
 composition, parts of which are strictly copied from 
 Mantegna, while other parts are entirely his own. It 
 is in the possession of Mr. Rogers. 
 
SECTION XIV 
 
 On the Flemish and Dutch Painters of the 
 Seventeenth Century 
 
 Barry nearly placed himself out of the pale of Art 
 when he wrote— " Rubens, Rembrandt, Vandyke, 
 Teniers, and Skalken, are without the pales of my 
 church," because, whatever the deficiencies of the 
 greatest of these painters, the mind that could be in- 
 sensible to their merit must have a very limited per- 
 ception of any of the excellences of Painting. The 
 last name on the list forms an anti-climax that clearly 
 proves how well Barry had kept his resolution of hold- 
 ing " no intercourse " with the others. Had he spent 
 the time he wasted in transcribing Burke's " Essay on 
 the Sublime and Beautiful," in rightly studying Rubens 
 and Rembrandt, he would have discovered that all 
 that is sublime and beautiful is not confined to the 
 antique, or monopolised by the Italians, and his large 
 canvases in the Adelphi might perhaps be regarded 
 with more interest than they have ever excited. 
 
 Fuseli, a critic of a very different order, speaks of 
 Rubens and Rembrandt as "meteors in Art." But if 
 their light was sudden in its appearance, it has been 
 enduring in its influence. Rubens was the regenerator 
 of the Flemish school, of which the painters imme- 
 
232 FLEMISH AND DUTCH PAINTERS 
 
 diately preceding him had inflated themselves into 
 absurdity, in the vain attempt to swell to the dimen- 
 sions of Michael Angelo. 
 
 As a master, the honour of being the instructor of 
 Vandyke would have been sufficiently great. But, to 
 say nothing of his other scholars, among whom Diepen- 
 beke and Snyders are conspicuous, he was the master 
 of Watteau, born nearly half a century after his death, 
 Hogarth owed much of the richness of his composition 
 to him, and his instruction certainly reached to 
 Reynolds and to Stothard ; while all the landscape- 
 painters who succeeded him, in his own country, as 
 well as all in England, down to the present time, are 
 more or less indebted to him. We may cavil as we 
 will at the faults of Rubens, and he had many, but we 
 cannot refuse to bow in submissive homage before the 
 great painter whose influence has been of such un- 
 ceasing value for two hundred years. 
 
 If there were fewer pictures with his name, he 
 would stand higher. To comprehend his excellence 
 fully, we must study his studies, the small sketches 
 and pictures which he placed in the hands of his 
 assistants. The Descent from the Cross" was^ 
 doubtless, all his own, though, unfortunately, it can- 
 not now be called so; and we may feel tolerably 
 sure that in the pictures in the National Gallery, that 
 bear his name, we see the work of his own hand ; 
 most certainly in the "St. Bavon,'' and that inimitable 
 sketch for the ceiling at Whitehall. Blenheim is rich 
 in fine and entire w^orks of Rubens, and, in the col- 
 lection of the Marquis of Westminster, the " Ixion and 
 Juno " is assuredly one. But, in general, we can only 
 
OF THE SE VENTEENTH CENTUR Y 233 
 
 be certain that we see his pencil in his portraits, his 
 landscapes, and in such inimitable sketches as the 
 " Venus and Mars " (though this is rather a finished 
 picture than a sketch) in the collection of Mr. 
 Rogers. 
 
 The greatest possible fulness and richness of com- 
 position, with the greatest possible unity, are among 
 the peculiar characteristics of Rubens. His most 
 crowded canvases present an aspect as single in 
 impression as the most simple pictures of Rembrandt ; 
 for there is not on their surfaces a touch of the pencil 
 that has not reference to the whole, as strictly as it 
 has to the smallest part. Hence, however compli- 
 cated his compositions, it gives us no trouble to look 
 at them, for the eye is never fatigued or bewildered 
 in attempting to thread a maze through the intricacies 
 of which he leads us. 
 
 When his want of taste in form is dwelt on, it must 
 always be borne in mind that human form alone is 
 meant. Of the beauty, the grandeur, the harmony of 
 form in the abstract, he had the most perfect sense, 
 whether of single objects, or the result of combination. 
 Thus, the shapes of his masses of light and of dark, 
 however simple or however complicated, are always 
 impressive in the highest degree, and his pictures 
 attract our admiration at a distance too great for us 
 to distinguish the particulars of which they are made, 
 and have in them that which would rivet the eye even 
 were they placed upside down. This sense of beauty 
 and grandeur of combination cannot be communi- 
 cated; we can only say that the gross figure of a 
 Silenus, in the hands of Rubens (though we cannot 
 
234 FLEMISH AND DUTCH PAINTERS 
 
 say how it is done), is always made to contribute to 
 the general beauty of the composition, while the 
 contour of an Apollo may, if ill-combined with other 
 forms, or injured by a bad choice of light and shadow, 
 affect the eye disagreeably. 
 
 The capability of delineating forms of specific 
 beauty is, comparatively, of easy acquirement, and 
 there are probably few eyes that may not, by culti- 
 vation, attain the power of avoiding what is most 
 offensive in accidental shapes. But to perceive at 
 once, and be able to transfer to canvas, in their per- 
 fection, those beauties in which Nature leaves us a 
 choice, as in the wreathing of smoke or the undula- 
 tions of a flag, is the true test of a painter's taste in 
 composition — a taste for which Rubens was pre-emi- 
 nently distinguished. He is the master who most 
 united richness and variety of ornament with Nature ; 
 and though imitated with more or less success by the 
 Machinists of later times, yet the life and truth of his 
 style will always keep him entirely distinct from that 
 large class of painters. 
 
 It is not difficult to copy the general effect of a 
 picture, the forms of its masses of light and of shade, 
 or its arrangements of colours, at the same time vary- 
 ing all the materials that contribute to these, sub- 
 stituting, for instance, a light object for the light of a 
 window, or a dark object for a shadow ; or we may 
 further disguise the theft of a general effect, by re- 
 versing or inverting it. We may thus get credit for 
 what is not our own ; but this will not in the least 
 help us to the power of originating a fine arrange- 
 ment, without a sense of the one indispensable thing 
 
OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 235 
 
 in a picture to which all minor beauties that would 
 interfere with it are to be unhesitatingly sacrificed, 
 however captivating in themselves ; and which all the 
 parts must co-operate to produce. Such a sense the 
 best painters no doubt acquired by allowing their 
 studies of Nature and of pictures to go hand in hand. 
 
 In another place, I have spoken of Rubens as the 
 great master of action. In a few of his landscapes 
 the sentiment is that of repose, but of his composition 
 generally, movement is the principle ; even in his 
 architecture, — wherever he can do so with propriety, 
 — he introduces shapes suggestive of motion, such as 
 twisted pillars and serpentine forms. Fuseli describes 
 the materials of his pictures as "swept along in a 
 gulf of colours ; as herbage, trees, and shrubs, are 
 whirled, tossed, and absorbed, by an inundation." 
 The stream of his light and shadow is, indeed, among 
 his greatest charms. But it is incident to genius, so 
 animated as his, to delight itself beyond bounds in 
 what it can do best, and Rubens not only in some 
 instances overstrains the action of his figures, but 
 surfeits the eye with movement. There is a picture, 
 entirely his own work, in the Louvre, "A Rustic 
 Wedding," filled with figures, dancing, romping, and 
 rolling on the ground. Even those that sit and stand 
 seem incapable of sitting or standing still. It is 
 indeed a wonderful display of the most difficult atti- 
 tudes mastered with consummate ease ; but, were any 
 similar subject by Teniers placed beside it, its utter 
 improbability with reference to Nature would at once 
 appear. 
 
 Rubens threw out the conceptions of his magnifi- 
 
236 FLEMISH AND DUTCH PAINTERS 
 
 cent mind with a liberality that distinguished him in 
 all things. No mean or sordid man could have given 
 the greatness which is stamped on his works ; a great- 
 ness, however, that might have been combined with 
 a purer taste, and the chief drawback from which is 
 that indifference to the gross and the repulsive, char- 
 acteristic of all the painters of the Low Countries of 
 the age in which he lived. It is easy to avoid his 
 faults, not so easy to attain his excellences. 
 
 Rembrandt was caricatured by Hogarth as debasing 
 sacred things by low and ludicrous imagery, while the 
 latest of his eulogists, Mr. Charles Blanc, considers 
 him the most impressive of all the painters of religious 
 subjects. But it is generally discovered, on becoming 
 thoroughly acquainted with men, that the character of 
 every individual has two sides, and so it is with the 
 productions of genius. All the faults are to be found 
 in Rembrandt that Hogarth pointed out; and the 
 reason of his ridicule was this : The rage for pur- 
 chasing at enormous prices the rare states of Rem- 
 brandt's etchings was at its greatest height in Eng- 
 land, and Hogarth heard nothing from the lips of the 
 buyers and sellers of these works but indiscriminate 
 admiration of everything in them, while his own 
 engravings, though bought by the public, were not 
 considered by the connoisseurs worthy to lie in their 
 portfolios with Rembrandt's, nor his pictures to hang 
 with any of the great masters. It was natural, there- 
 fore, that Hogarth should look but at the faulty side 
 of Rembrandt, while Mr. Charles Blanc looks only at 
 the other, and feels that the most touching incidents 
 of the Gospel are treated by him with a pathos and 
 
OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 237 
 
 unaffected simplicity, priceless in such subjects. He 
 looks at Rembrandt's conception of Christianity as 
 directing our attention to its peculiar beneficence to 
 the miserable and the friendless of this world ; gather- 
 ing at the feet of its Divine Author the poor and the 
 infirm, young and old, who there implore His heal- 
 ing power, or in patient confidence await it, or listen 
 with reverent attention to His gracious words, while 
 rich and well-fed rabbis stand by unmoved, or whisper 
 to each other their contempt, or their surmises of dia- 
 bolic agency. He does the fullest justice to Rem- 
 brandt's great powers, and sees not, or will not 
 notice, his faults. 
 
 On the other hand. Dr. Kugler never alludes to the 
 pathos of the "sturdy and gloomy republican," as he 
 styles him. And in this passage, and in others in 
 which he speaks of his " dark feeling of dreamy power 
 and subdued passion," and of the " gloomy character " 
 of his mind, he confounds Rembrandt's admiration of 
 the grandeur of shade, and the breadth of nocturnal 
 effects, with metaphysical gloom. This is a great 
 mistake. Instances might be cited of pictures ex- 
 hibiting not only gloom, but wretchedness of mind 
 in their authors, with very little of shade in their 
 treatment. 
 
 To me, the prevailing tone of Rembrandt's mind, 
 as shown in his Art, is serenity — as clearly as that of 
 Raphael's is urbanity. Where the subject allows him, 
 his natural disposition seems always tranquil; and 
 though serious, yet the very reverse of gloomy. 
 Gloom is restless; — it overspreads Salvator Rosa's 
 Art as it does that of the schools in which he was 
 
238 FLEMISH AND DUTCH PAINTERS 
 
 reared. But Rembrandt, often solemn in the highest 
 degree, and often in the highest degree pathetic, shows 
 nothing of constitutional melancholy. He is the 
 painter of repose, as Rubens is the painter of action ; 
 and in his portraits, as in those of Reynolds, the ex- 
 pression is most frequently that of calm thoughtful- 
 ness. Whatever else, therefore, there may be in 
 common between the style of Rembrandt and that of 
 Caravaggio or Spagnoletti, the gloomy, the melan- 
 choly, and the savage, are qualities it does not share 
 with theirs. He delights in the stillness of night, but 
 not as one who hates day; while Caravaggio delighted 
 in turning day into night. 
 
 How far the style of Rembrandt grew out of that 
 of the Italian Naturalistic it grew, at any rate, into 
 much greater importance, and became far more in- 
 teresting; and this was the result not only of his 
 superior taste in the imitation of Nature, but also, as 
 I think, of his placid temperament. I know no work 
 of his hand that strikes me as more entirely after his 
 own heart than a night scene, an interior, in which a 
 woman is reading by a light (which her person hides 
 from the spectator) to an older woman, who has a 
 spinning-wheel by her side and a cradle at her feet, 
 in which an infant is sleeping. In description, all 
 this sounds very ordinary ; but the picture is one of 
 the most impressive that ever came from the hand 
 even of Rembrandt. The window shutters are closed, 
 the world is shut out, and it requires no stretch of 
 imagination to suppose that the book with which both 
 are engaged relates to a higher world, — a thought with 
 which the image of the sleeping babe is in unison. 
 
OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 239 
 
 But, however we may read the picture, its effect is in 
 the highest degree tranquillising and soothing, and 
 akin to that produced by Cowper's exquisite descrip- 
 tion of evening, beginning with — 
 
 "Let fall the curtains." 1 
 
 A higher subject by his hand, and a much more 
 solemn one, " Our Saviour and the two Disciples at 
 Emmaus," possesses the same charm of the silence 
 of night, broken by a gentle voice, which the painter 
 makes almost audible. In such Art I fancy I see 
 the real tone of Rembrandt's mind, — serious and 
 meditative, but placid, and as far removed from 
 gloom as the subjects of these pictures; and of all 
 the " portraits he has painted of himself this is the 
 character \ in the head, particularly, in Her Majesty's 
 collection, a mind at peace with itself and with all 
 the world, is charmingly expressed. His portrait of 
 himself, lately added to the national collection, though 
 it may be genuine, does not seem to me in any 
 respect to do justice to his Art. A head stuck close 
 against a wall is a very uncommon thing from a 
 painter so fond of depth and space. 
 
 As I have endeavoured to rescue Rembrandt from 
 what I consider the false impression that his mind 
 was a gloomy one, so I cannot but here notice other 
 charges injurious to his memory. I have heard him 
 stigmatised as "a sot and a miser^'' and, conse- 
 quently, incapable of any refinement or elevation 
 of sentiment. 
 
 The climate of Holland, and the habits of the age 
 1 This picture is in England, but I know not where. 
 
240 FLEMISH AND DUTCH PAINTERS 
 
 in which he hved, may account for, and in some de- 
 gree excuse, his not being a water-drinker. Neither 
 Addison nor Burns were water-drinkers, and yet the 
 first wrote with refinement and the last with subHmity. 
 Walpole said, coarsely, of Addison, that "he died 
 maudlin, and with, perhaps, as much truth as that 
 Rembrandt was a sot. 
 
 With respect to the more hateful charge that he 
 was a miser, it may be noticed that among the very 
 few things known of him, it is certain that about ten 
 years before his death all he possessed was sold to 
 satisfy the claims of a mortgage. Misers do not 
 become bankrupts, and the inventory of his property 
 shows that he possessed a very large collection of 
 works of Art, comprising specimens of all the schools 
 of Europe. He had also many objects of natural 
 history — proving, if proof were needed, that what- 
 ever might be his fondness for money, his love of Art 
 and of Nature was greater. It is remarkable also, 
 that between thirty and forty of his own pictures were 
 on his hands, besides a far greater number of his 
 sketches, which makes it probable that the patronage 
 he received was not so constant as it has been 
 represented; and the sale which took place of his 
 house and property may have given rise to the story 
 of his pretending to be dead, in order that his works 
 might be sold. 
 
 The inventory proves him to have been an ad- 
 mirer of styles very unHke his own, excepting in their 
 excellence. He had some pictures by Raphael, as 
 well as a large collection of engravings from his 
 works, and also from those of Michael Angelo. 
 
OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 241 
 
 Men of great and original genius, who, like Rem- 
 brandt, have little of what is ordinarily called educa- 
 tion, and who seem wayward in their tastes and 
 habits, are sometimes looked upon as inspired idiots. 
 But in the mind of such a man, the immense amount 
 of knowledge accumulated by close and silent obser- 
 vation, knowledge of a kind not to be communicated 
 by words, is something wholly inconceivable to the 
 learned merely in books; and if their reading has 
 opened to them a world from which he is shut out, he 
 also lives in a world of his own, equally interesting, 
 the wisdom and enjoyment of which his pencil is 
 constantly employed in communicating to all who 
 have eyes for the sublime aspects of Nature, and 
 hearts fitted to receive such impressions through their 
 eyes. 
 
 The very few sayings recorded of Rembrandt are 
 remarkable for their mother-wit and sound sense. 
 
 "On one occasion," says his pupil Hoogstraten, 
 "when I was very troublesome to my master Rem- 
 brandt, by asking him too many questions respecting 
 the causes of things, he replied very judiciously : 
 * Try to put well in practice what you already know ; 
 in so doing you will, in good time, discover the hid- 
 den things which you now inquire about.'" — "A 
 picture," he said, "is finished when the painter has 
 done with it." And when the works of his latest and 
 best practice in execution were examined too closely, 
 and probably criticised as unfinished, he said his 
 pictures " were not intended to be smelt, but looked 
 at." He felt the restraint of what is considered 
 superior society, and either avoided or stole from it 
 
 R 
 
242 FLEMISH AND DUTCH PAINTERS 
 
 on the first occasion ; and, when asked his reason, 
 replied, — "If I wish to relax from study, it is not 
 honour, but liberty and ease that I seek."^ 
 
 The etchings of Rembrandt, which have hitherto 
 been as a sealed book to artists, on account of their 
 costliness, are now placed within our reach by photo- 
 graphy; and we are promised, by the publishers in 
 Paris, the complete series of these inestimable works. 
 
 Fuseli says of Rembrandt that "he had no fol- 
 lowers," by which he must mean that he had no 
 successors equal, in all things, to himself. This, how- 
 ever, is only repeating what is true of every man of 
 genius. Not to speak of the pupils who studied in 
 his house, the entire Dutch school received from him, 
 as the Flemish school had received from Rubens, a 
 new and healthy impulse, which placed it high above 
 its previous condition. His closest imitators — Bol, 
 Flink, and, at a later period, Dietrich — were, as 
 respects all the great qualities of Art, the furthest 
 removed from him ; — and Gerard Dow, though often 
 spoken of as the most distinguished of his scholars, 
 had nothing in common with his greatness. 
 
 If " none knew like Rembrandt how to give import- 
 ance to a trifle," Gerard Dow, on the other hand, 
 turned the most important things into trifles. His 
 mind was a very ingenious, and a very small one. By 
 dint of extreme patience, under the guidance of a cor- 
 rect, but not a fine, eye, he produced works of a class, 
 
 1 For these anecdotes I am indebted to Sir Charles Eastlake's 
 Materials for the History of Oil Painting," and Mr. Smith's 
 
 *'Catalogive Raisonne of the Dutch, Flemish, and French 
 
 Painters. 
 
OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 243 
 
 which, as Sir Joshua Reynolds says, are "looked at 
 with admiration on the lips, and indifference in the 
 heart." The finest picture I ever saw by him is that 
 little one in the collection of Lord Ellesmere. It 
 is his most direct and successful imitation of Rem- 
 brandt's early works ; it has a delicacy of touch that 
 is marvellous, and I like it the better for having little 
 colour, for he was no colourist; — but while I am 
 admiring it, I feel, as I do before the pictures of 
 Wouvermans, that the artist has transported me to 
 Lilliput. 
 
 Nicholas Maas was the one great painter among the 
 immediate scholars of Rembrandt j for he alone com- 
 prehended the grandeur of his chiaroscuro, and, with- 
 out attempting to reproduce his effects, found in Nature 
 combinations for himself, to the power of seeing which 
 he was no doubt greatly helped by his master. 
 
 Lord Lindsay, in his " General Classification of 
 Schools and Artists," speaks of the Ideal becoming 
 extinct "in flowers and fruit, pots and pans." But 
 they who appreciate the Dutch and Flemish schools 
 must feel that in the treatment, even of these things, 
 there is an ideal or beautiful, as distinct from a literal 
 imitation. The superiority of De Heem and Rachel 
 Ruisch to Van Huysum in fruit and flowers, and of 
 Teniers to Gerard Dow in pots and pans, and in 
 these again the superiority of Nicholas Maas to Teniers, 
 are matters of consequence to artists. 
 
 The works of Maas are remarkably few. It is said 
 he was employed much on portraits, but they are 
 not often to be met with. There are few pictures in 
 our National Gallery before which I find myself more 
 
244 FLEMISH AND DUTCH PAINTERS 
 
 often standing than the very small one by him, the 
 subject of which is the scraping a parsnip. A decent- 
 looking Dutch housewife sits intently engaged in this 
 operation, with a fine chubby child standing by her 
 side watching the process, as children will stand and 
 watch the most ordinary operations, with an intensity 
 of interest as if the very existence of the whole world 
 depended on the exact manner in which that parsnip 
 was scraped. It is not the colour and light and shadow 
 of this charming little gem, superlative as they are, 
 that constitute its great attraction ; for a mere outline 
 of it would arrest attention among a thousand subjects 
 of its class, and many pictures as beautiful in effect 
 might not interest so much ; but it is the delight at 
 seeing a trait of childhood, we have often observed and 
 been amused with in Nature, for the first time so 
 felicitously given by Art. I have noticed the natural 
 manner in which Raphael and other great painters 
 represented children, as wholly uninterested in that 
 which engages the attention of their elders. Here 
 the incident is exactly the reverse, and treated with 
 equal felicity. The companion picture is rich in 
 colour, but has not the interest of this ; and there 
 is another fine picture by Maas, in the National 
 Gallery, a maid sleeping over her work in a scullery, 
 the foreground of which is, however, somewhat rubbed; ' 
 but a picture in Her Majesty's collection exhibits the 
 summit of his power in colour and chiaroscuro. 
 
 Of all the Dutch painters of familiar life, Jan Steen ; 
 is acknowledged to be the greatest genius. The ' 
 humour and whim in his compositions disclose to us 
 a mind quite distinct from the rest ; and the love of 
 
OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 24.5 
 
 childhood displayed in his works, shows that with all 
 his eccentricities there was something good in his 
 nature ; and, indeed, unless that be the case, I doubt 
 the power of any artist, whatever may be his genius, 
 to interest us deeply. I know not that any other 
 painter combines such completion of finish at so 
 apparently small an expense of labour as Jan Steen, 
 in his best pictures. But haste, perhaps occasioned 
 by his necessities, towards the close of his life, made 
 him throw off works which, though they might have 
 made the reputation of other men, are scarcely worthy 
 of him. His pictures have, more than those of most 
 painters, an apparent artlessness of contrivance, — the 
 result not of ignorance, but of that originality which, 
 disregarding common rules, works out its purposes by 
 methods of its own, and yet faultlessly. Jan Steen 
 seems, indeed, from the unmistakable evidences of 
 rapidity his works present, to have had the whole of 
 his art, not only always present in his mind, but at 
 his fingers' ends. He seems to have painted as 
 quickly and as surely as Shakspeare is said to have 
 written. Others have, no doubt, equalled him in 
 this, but who with such results? — excepting only a 
 still greater genius — Rubens. 
 
 Slight in execution as are some of his late works, 
 there are early pictures by him, and some of these are 
 in Her Majesty's collection, as highly finished as the 
 most elaborate of Gerard Dow, and with a much 
 finer taste. The excellence of his colour has been 
 pointed out by Reynolds ; but there is one point in 
 which he as well as the other Dutch painters are the 
 best possible guides. Mr. Ruskin has noticed that 
 
246 FLEMISH AND DUTCH PAINTERS 
 
 "modern painters in general have not a proper sense 
 of the value of dirt ; cottage children never appear but 
 in freshly got-up caps and aprons, and white-handed 
 beggars excite compassion in unexceptionable rags." 
 Now it is very easy to make everything look dirty, 
 and there are styles of bad colouring that cannot avoid 
 doing so, and in which Venus herself, rising from the 
 sea, will seem to stand in need of washing. But it is 
 no paradox to say that even dirt should not be painted 
 to look dirty ^ and this is exactly what colourists like 
 Jan Steen understood. Hence their pictures, even 
 when their subjects are from the lowest condition of 
 humanity, are not, in respect to colour, repulsive, 
 however so in their 'incidents ; but, without anything 
 of that clean look in the dresses, persons, and furni- 
 ture, of their pictures, that would be out of character, 
 and also without the monotony or wretchedness of 
 dirty colour, their negative hues, which fill their 
 largest masses, are here and there contrasted by small 
 portions of red, orange, or other bright colours, that, 
 so surrounded, glow like gems. 
 
 How they managed this I do not know ; I can 
 only point out the result, which is one of the charms 
 of Ostade, who, more than any other painter, resembles 
 Rembrandt, in his admiration (for so it seems) of 
 human ugliness and deformity, and who often^ as Rem- 
 brandt sometiines did, carries us into scenes which we 
 would not willingly enter in real life, but which he 
 adorns with all the charms of Art, and often witli 
 traits of domestic interest, by which he penetrates to 
 the heart, to where the tedious mechanism of Gerard 
 Dow never yet reached. The hard-working, and there- 
 
j 
 
 4 
 
OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 247 
 
 fore prematurely old-looking, parents, caressing their 
 old-looking children with that natural simplicity which 
 this perfect master of expression felt so truly; the 
 relish of their enjoyments increased by their fewness ; 
 are, I confess, far more to my taste than the cottage 
 incidents of many other painters, who, more ambitious 
 of story, aim to be sentimental; and though such 
 painters avoid all that is objectionable in Ostade, and 
 take care to give beauty enough, yet, like Greuze, for 
 instance — the best of the class of which I am speaking 
 — they carry the mind more into the theatre than into 
 rustic life. 
 
 The excellence of Art consists in what it is not, as 
 well-;as in what it is ; and, to me, a great merit of the 
 Flemish and Dutch painters is the absence of all 
 affected and mawkish sensibility — all that stage 
 trickery of the spectator by which he is made to 
 believe himself touched at heart. This false senti- 
 ment began with Greuze, and has ever since more or 
 less infected modern Art. There is an engraving by 
 Le Bas, from Teniers, entitled the "Miseries of War." 
 It represents the outrages committed in a small 
 village by a band of soldiers. Yet no woeful maiden, 
 with hair dishevelled, throws herself on the body of 
 her murdered lover, in an attitude as carefully arranged 
 to display the charms of her person as her grief In- 
 stead of this, a plain countrywoman intercedes for the 
 life of an old peasant, and some soldiers are binding 
 the arms of the village priest, who stands in patient 
 submission, with his eyes raised to Heaven. There 
 are other incidents, all the more touching for an entire 
 absence of theatrical, or modern pictorial effect ; and. 
 
248 FLEMISH AND DUTCH PAINTERS 
 
 like all the out-door scenes of Teniers, it has a very 
 fine sky. 
 
 If painters are to be classed by their subjects, the 
 lowest of all would be two of the rarest excellence, 
 Terburg and Metsu. It is true they avoided poverty 
 and ugliness, but their pictures, and especially Ter- 
 burg's, are often mere exhibitions of vice, with noth- 
 ing of the gaiety of Jan Steen, or those touches of 
 humorous satire that he, though by no means a rigid 
 moralist, seldom failed to throw into such scenes. 
 Terburg's soldiers carouse without merriment, and 
 his notion of love may be seen in an exquisitely- 
 painted picture, in the Louvre, in which a handsome 
 woman carefully counts, with her eyes, a handful of 
 money offered to her by a middle-aged cavalier ; and 
 he sometimes descends so low as to show us a well- 
 dressed woman tippling by herself, with a glass raised 
 to her lips, and a stone jug in her lap. If such pic- 
 tures are without the satire of Hogarth, they have an 
 unintentional moral in their sordid, matter-of-fact 
 treatment, their utter want of any refinement of senti- 
 ment; and while their perfection recommends them 
 to the eye, they have nothing that can corrupt the 
 mind, but everything that is repulsive to it. Though 
 there is seldom much of animated expression in the 
 pictures of Terburg and Metsu, it is not because they 
 had not the power of giving it. Their expression is 
 always perfect; and in the collection of Mr. Hope 
 there is a picture by the latter in which he rises far 
 above the ordinary interest of his subjects. — A beau- 
 tiful woman is pouring out her very soul on paper, 
 and so entirely absorbed as to be unconscious that 
 
THE SATIN GOWN — BY GERARD TERBURG. 
 
OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 249 
 
 every word she is writing is read by him who, it is 
 plain, from his indignation, is the person of all others 
 from whom she would conceal it. He has stolen 
 behind her on tiptoe, carefully holding his sword close 
 to his side, that she may not hear him. A story of 
 love and jealousy could not be better, and has rarely 
 been so well, told. 
 
 The subjects of these two painters, when they rose 
 above those scenes in which vice is a matter of traffic, 
 are either card or music parties, or music lessons. 
 In Her Majesty's collection are fine specimens of 
 both, " The Blue Boddice " being the very finest pic- 
 ture by Terburg I ever saw — a work which, had he 
 painted nothing else, would have placed him at the 
 top of the Art. 
 
 The materials offered by Terburg and Metsu to the 
 eye are admirably suited to a display of colour and 
 execution. Petticoats of the costliest satins, bordered 
 with silver ; jackets of the richest velvets, trimmed 
 with ermine ; polished cuirasses ; embroidered sword- 
 belts ; the most picturesque of boots and of slouched 
 hats j tables covered with Persian carpets ; richly- 
 ornamented silver dishes and tankards; projecting 
 chimneys of variegated marbles; and all relieved 
 from backgrounds of dark tapestries, and presented to 
 us with a delicacy of finish sometimes equal to Van 
 Eyck, but with the addition of a suavity of manner 
 unknown to the early Art of any country, first 
 adopted, from Nature, by Correggio, and from him 
 introduced by Rubens and Rembrandt into their 
 schools. 
 
 When speaking of colour, I have spoken of De 
 
250 FLEMISH AND DUTCH PAINTERS 
 
 Hooge. But I must here say something more of this 
 original painter ; perhaps, with the exception of Rem- 
 brandt, the most original of the Dutch school. Scarcely 
 anything is known of his history ; but he seems from 
 the very commencement of his studies to have aimed 
 at a single object, to which throughout his life he 
 never ceased to devote himself, till at last he suc- 
 ceeded in it beyond any other painter, unless it be 
 Claude. This object was to express light. For the 
 subjects of his early pictures he chose interiors, 
 generally filled with music -parties, and all within 
 the apartment was subdued to a very low and cool 
 tone, for the sole purpose of giving splendour to 
 gleams of sunshine seen through windows or doors. 
 But, as he advanced, he acquired the superior power 
 of spreading light throughout his compositions with- 
 out interfering with the brilliancy of its source. He 
 painted the effects of sunbeams upon walls with a 
 truth and a taste unequalled before or after him ; and 
 the out-door scenes of his best time have a lumi- 
 nous quality which he did not acquire by studying 
 pictures, but with which he was at last rewarded for 
 his close observation of tones in Nature to which or- 
 dinary eyes are sealed. A picture, formerly in the 
 possession of Mr. Wells, in which a man sits drink- 
 ing in the open air, while a woman stands near him, 
 and a little girl at a short distance, is a fine specimen 
 of his best period, and so is one, much like it in 
 subject, in the collection of Lady Peel. The finest of 
 his interiors that I have seen is, "The Card-Players," 
 in Her Majesty's collection, of which I attempted a 
 description in the Section on Colour. 
 
OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 251 
 
 Italy is sometimes called " the land of poetry ; " 
 but Nature impresses the varied sentiment of her 
 varying moods as eloquently on flat meadows and 
 straight canals, as on mountains, valleys, and winding 
 streams ; and visits the mill and the cottage with the 
 same splendid phenomena of light and shadow as she 
 does the palace. This was well understood by Cuyp 
 and Ruysdael, and their most impressive pictures 
 are often made out of the fewest and the simplest 
 materials. 
 
 There is a small Sunset " by Cuyp in the Dul- 
 wich collection. It has not a tree, except in the 
 extreme distance, nor scarcely a bush, but it has one 
 of the finest skies ever painted, and this is enough, 
 for its glow pervades the whole, giving the greatest 
 value to the exquisitely-arranged colour of a near 
 group of cattle, — bathing the still water and distance 
 in a flood of mellow light, and turning into golden 
 ornaments a very few scattered weeds and brambles 
 that rise here and there from the broadly-shadowed 
 foreground into the sunshine, gaining great import- 
 ance from their nearness to the eye. 
 
 In the hands of Ruysdael, a windmill and a stunted 
 tree or two are sufficient, under the effects with which 
 he envelops them, to impress us infinitely beyond 
 anything that can be effected by an ordinary painter, 
 with the most magnificent materials of Alpine scenery. 
 Solemnity is the charm of his pictures ; tranquil and 
 soothing, it never, with him, degenerates into melan- 
 choly. Though I know no work of his hand that 
 does not command admiration, I like him best in the 
 flat and open scenery of his own country, or of the 
 
252 FLEMISH AND DUTCH PAINTERS 
 
 sea that washes its shores, where he shows himself by 
 far the greatest of all the marine painters of his time. 
 
 Of the younger Teniers, whose landscape compo- 
 sitions are incomparably his best works, there are 
 admirable specimens at Dulwich, and one very fine 
 one in the collection of the Marquis of Westminster. 
 The power of giving importance to trifles, which 
 Fuseli ascribes to Rembrandt, who, as he said, " could 
 pluck a flower in every desert," is shared with him by 
 those of whom I have been speaking ; and " we derive," 
 as Constable said, *'the pleasure of surprise from the 
 works of the best Dutch painters, in finding how much 
 interest the Art, when in perfection, can give to the 
 most ordinary subjects." 
 
 The wealthy Burgomasters of the period under 
 notice, appear to have been liberal patrons of Art, but 
 they were not infallible judges ; for neither Cuyp nor 
 Ruysdael were appreciated while they lived. With 
 respect to Cuyp, we learn from Mr. Smith the astound- 
 ing fact, that "by a reference to numerous Dutch 
 catalogues of the principal collections sold in Holland, 
 down to 1750, there is no example of any picture by 
 his hand selling for more than thirty florins, or some- 
 thing less than three pounds sterling ! " The heartless 
 mannerisms of Bergham and Both, which represent 
 neither Dutch nor Italian Art, being hybrid mixtures 
 of the two, were in greater request, and are still more 
 valued than they deserve to be ; while, among the 
 painters of familiar life, Dow and Mieris seem to have 
 been more popular than Ostade, Terburg, Metsu, De 
 Hooge, or Nicholas Maas; and, in subjects of a 
 higher class than theirs, Vanderwerf gained a reputa- 
 
OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 253 
 
 tion which has long ceased to connect itself with his 
 pictures. With respect to him, it is clear that, even 
 to the time of Reynolds, his name was one of import- 
 ance, or Sir Joshua would not have devoted so large 
 a space in his " Journey through Flanders and Hol- 
 land " to an exposure of the vices of his style ; whose 
 remarks on Vanderwerf I would recommend to the 
 careful perusal of the student, for a clear explanation 
 of important principles of Nature, that should never 
 be, but often are, lost sight of. 
 
 In this brief sketch of the Flemish and Dutch 
 schools, I have been obliged to omit any mention of 
 some painters of first-rate excellence in their several 
 branches of Art. I have not space to say anything 
 of Paul Potter, Emanuel de Witt, WilHam Vander- 
 velde, Louis Vadder (who visited Italy to much better 
 purpose than Both or Bergham), Arnold Vanderneer, 
 and others, if of less note, yet not therefore noteless. 
 
SECTION XV 
 
 On La7idscape 
 
 Our intellectual tastes should elevate and purify our 
 natures ; but, in some directions, they are not inapt 
 to degenerate into mere luxurious indulgences, and a 
 long catalogue might be made out of gross and selfish 
 men, who have yet been patrons of Art. But the 
 love of landscape is a love so pure, that it can never 
 associate with the relishes of a mere voluptuary, and 
 wherever such a love is native, it is the certain indi- 
 cation of a superior mind. Shakspeare sends us to 
 find 
 
 ''tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
 
 Sermons in stones, and good in everything." 
 
 Tongues and books that never lie, — sermons direct to 
 the heart, — and good unmixed with evil ; and the man 
 must be hopelessly wicked, or woefully blinded by 
 passion, who can plan or commit a wrong act while 
 these are addressing him. 
 
 How fine a scene is that in " The Antiquary," where 
 Edie Ochiltree tries to prevent the duel between Lovel 
 and MTntyre ! " ' What are you come here for, young 
 men ? ' he said ; ' are you come among the most lovely 
 works of God to break His laws ? Have you left the 
 
ON LANDSCAPE 255 
 
 works of man, the houses and the cities, that are but 
 clay and dust, hke those that built them ; and are ye 
 come here among the peaceful hills, and by the quiet 
 waters, that will last whiles aught earthly shall endure, 
 to destroy each other's lives ? ' " 
 
 Such is the moral influence of Landscape, to which 
 no great painter was ever indifferent; nor can we 
 imagine any painter indifferent to its material beauty. 
 And yet Leonardo da Vinci tells us that his friend 
 Boticello " had a particular pique against landscapes, 
 and thought them much beneath his application ; the 
 effect of which was, that being a very sorry landscape- 
 pa^inter, his merit in other matters was less regarded. 
 It was a saying of his, that a palette full of colours 
 being thrown against the wall would leave a stain 
 behind it properly enough representing a landscape." 
 
 Leonardo prefaces this account by remarking that 
 " a painter who is not equally pleased with all parts 
 of his art, will never become universal." And I will 
 add that even a painter who should confine himself 
 to in-door subjects, cannot represent an open window 
 truly without some practical knowledge of landscape ; 
 and the greatest historical and portrait painters have 
 invariably studied it, not from pictures only, but from 
 the reality. Titian seems to have done that for 
 inanimate Nature which Michael Angelo did for human 
 form, in giving to it a grandeur unknown before in 
 Art ; and the background of the " Peter Martyr " has 
 been considered to mark an important epoch in the 
 history of landscape, being equally admirable for its 
 greatness and its finish. 
 
 The right appreciation of this lovely branch of 
 
256 
 
 ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 Painting has suffered, like all the others, by classifica- 
 tion. Sir Joshua Reynolds, who does justice to the 
 genius of Gainsborough, refuses to rank his landscape 
 with poetic Art, and this could only arise from its 
 not being connected, like the landscape of Poussin 
 and Sebastian Bourdon, with classic incident; for 
 if Burns, in describing the banks of the Doon, writes 
 as a poet, why may not Gainsborough, with his ex- 
 treme sensibility to every beauty of Nature, paint like 
 one, though he take for his subject the most familiar 
 scenery of his own country ? — I should say that if 
 ever landscape was poetic on canvas, it is such land- 
 scape as his. Constable, in speaking of one of his 
 pictures, a work almost without details, said, "I 
 cannot think of it even now without tears in my 
 eyes;^ — with particulars he had nothing to do, his 
 object was to deliver a fine sentiment, and he has 
 fully accomplished it." 
 
 I can understand that a taste requiring a literal 
 completion of particulars will never be satisfied with 
 Gainsborough. Indeed, those who feel what he 
 accomplished, must often be content, like Cordelia, 
 to " love and be silent ; " cavils, they will find them- 
 selves unable to answer, will not disturb their enjoy- 
 ment — an enjoyment they cannot make intelligible to 
 minds not constituted or trained to receive it, however 
 they may feel sure that it is based on a genuine love 
 of Nature. 
 
 The faults of the highest Art may be easily and 
 clearly described by words ; but there are literally no 
 words for its most refined beauties, nor are there any 
 words to express the want of those beauties in Art 
 
ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 257 
 
 that has all the ordinary appearances of truth. 
 Hence those plausible styles, that form the staple of 
 our exhibitions, and that fill our print-shop windows, 
 are safe from criticism and easily extolled ; and the 
 advantages to be derived from language being on the 
 side of inferior Art, nothing has been more common 
 than for great artists to be talked down and indiffer- 
 ent ones talked up. Hogarth was talked down, and 
 Penny, a now forgotten painter, talked up by no less 
 a critic than Barry. Wilson and Gainsborough were 
 talked down, while Smith, of Chichester, and Barrett 
 were talked up. Stothard, Flaxman, and Constable 
 suffered, when living, the same kind of depreciation, 
 while lesser artists were praised and patronised ; — and 
 Turner, when in the meridian of his glory, was ridiculed 
 without mercy by the fashionable leaders of taste. 
 
 Rocks, trees, mountains, plains, and waters, are the 
 features of landscape, but its expression is from 
 above ; and it is scarcely metaphorical to say Nature 
 smiles, or weeps, and is tranquil, sad, or disturbed 
 with rage, as the atmosphere affects her. Hence the 
 paramount importance of the sky in landscape, — an 
 importance not diminished, even when it forms but 
 a small portion of the composition. 
 
 " There is not a moment of any day of our lives," 
 says Mr. Ruskin, "when Nature is not producing 
 scene after scene, picture after picture, glory after 
 glory, and working still upon such exquisite and 
 constant principles of the most perfect beauty, that it 
 is quite certain it is all done for us, and intended for 
 our perpetual pleasure. And every man, wherever 
 placed, however far from other sources of interest or 
 
 s 
 
258 
 
 ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 of beauty, has this doing for him constantly. The 
 noblest scenes of the earth can be seen and known 
 but by few ; it is not intended that man should live 
 always in the midst of them ; he injures them by his 
 presence, he ceases to feel them if he be always with 
 them : but the sky is for all ; bright as it is, it is not 
 
 ' Too bright nor good 
 For human nature's daily food ; ' 
 
 it is fitted in all its functions for the perpetual com- 
 fort and exalting of the heart, for soothing it and 
 purifying it from its dross and dust." 
 
 And yet many are the landscape-painters who 
 seem, in their studies from Nature, as if they had 
 never raised their eyes above the horizon ; and 
 among the proofs of the indifference of those who 
 interest themselves in Art to the beauty that canopies 
 the earth, may be noticed that, although the composi- 
 tion and light and shade of clouds are as much 
 within the reach of the photographic art as any of 
 the other great things of Nature, they are her only 
 beauties it has hitherto entirely neglected. I have 
 seen but two calotypes of skies, and these (taken by 
 my friend, Mr. Thurston Thompson) prove that it is 
 from no want of power in the process that skies are 
 not as common in our photographic exhibitions as 
 any other subjects. 
 
 Turner's transcendent power of expressing atmo- 
 spheric phenomena more than atoned for eccentrici- 
 ties that would have ruined a lesser man : and 
 Constable spent entire summers in painting skies 
 from Nature. In a letter to a friend, dated October 
 
ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 259 
 
 1 82 1, he says : — " I have done a good deal of skying, 
 for I am determined to conquer all difficulties, and 
 that among the rest. That landscape-painter who 
 does not make his sky a very material part of his 
 composition, neglects to avail himself of one of his 
 greatest aids. I have often been advised to consider 
 my sky as * a white sheet thrown behind the objects ! ' 
 Certainly, if the sky is obtrusive, as mine are, it is 
 bad ; but if it is evaded, as mine are not, it is worse ; 
 it must, and always shall, with me, make an effectual 
 part of the composition. It will be difficult to name 
 a class of landscape in which the sky is not the key- 
 note, the standard of scale, and the chief organ of 
 sentiment. You may conceive, then, what a 'white 
 sheet' would do for me, impressed as I am with 
 these notions, — and they cannot be erroneous. The 
 sky is the source of light in Nature, and governs 
 everything ; even our common observations on the 
 weather of every day are altogether suggested by it. 
 The difficulty of skies in painting is very great, both 
 as to composition and execution; because, with all 
 their brilliancy, they ought not to come forward, or, 
 indeed, be hardly thought of, any more than extreme 
 distances are ; but this does not apply to phenomena, 
 or accidental effects of sky, because they always 
 attract particularly. I may say all this to you, though 
 yoic do not want to be told that I know very well 
 what I am about, and that my skies have not been 
 neglected though they have often failed in execution, 
 no doubt from an over -anxiety about them; which 
 will alone destroy that easy appearance which Nature 
 always has in all her movements." 
 
26o 
 
 ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 The studies Constable made of skies were in oil, on 
 large sheets of stiff paper, and on the back of every 
 one are memoranda, of the date, the time of day, the 
 direction of the wind, and other remarks ; for instance 
 — "Sept. 6th, 1822, looking S.E. ; 12 to i o'clock, 
 fresh and bright, between showers ; much the look of 
 rain all the morning, but very fine and grand all the 
 afternoon and evening." 
 
 There are beautiful celestial phenomena not yet 
 made tributary to Art ; the lunar rainbow, for instance, 
 and the aurora -borealis. They are, perhaps, too 
 rarely seen to be understood by the general eye ; and 
 so it is with the ocean, the deep blue of which in fine 
 weather, approaching to black in storms, has never 
 been painted, marine subjects having hitherto been 
 taken from the narrow seas only ; and even in these 
 the splendid phosphorescent light seen in the foam of 
 the waves at night has not been attempted. There is 
 also a beautiful appearance in calm weather, when 
 large masses of bright clouds are reflected in broad 
 columns of light on the sea, just as the sun throws 
 his pillar of fire below him. I may be mistaken, but 
 I cannot recollect this in a picture, constant as its 
 appearance is in Nature, and familiar as it must be to 
 every eye. The truth is, we go on painting the 
 things that others and ourselves have painted before, 
 and do not look out of the Art nearly so much as we 
 should do. Now and then an original painter adds 
 something new and beautiful, but the most original 
 might be more so, were it not for that natural indolence 
 that makes even such too easily content to rest in what 
 has been done. 
 
ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 261 
 
 As I cannot hope to add anything of value to the 
 much that has been said of the great landscape- 
 painters among the old masters, and as genuine land- 
 scape has, for the last century or more, existed only 
 in England, I will confine my observations to some 
 of the principal landscape-painters of the British 
 school. 
 
 Wilson should have been mentioned before Gains- 
 borough, as he was born first. This charming artist 
 began with portrait, in which he was not successful, 
 and which he quitted for landscape, in which he was 
 not successful either, in a worldly point of view, 
 though eminently so for the benefit of the world. In 
 truth and beauty of colour, and in his perception of 
 the greatness and breadth of Nature, he has never 
 been surpassed, and only equalled by the greatest 
 painters. His own mind is probably best seen in his 
 calm and lovely sunsets, and yet storms were never 
 more terrifically painted than by him. 
 
 That Sir Joshua Reynolds did not consider the 
 mere addition of classic incident as constituting the 
 poetry of landscape is clear from his remarks on the 
 " Niobe " of Wilson ; though he, no doubt, thought 
 it essential to the making landscape poetic. With re- 
 spect to the " Niobe," I think, with Sir Joshua, that 
 the introduction of the figure of Apollo is worse than 
 useless. As an awful representation of a storm the 
 picture is perfect, and the catastrophe would be more 
 affecting, because our sense of its reality would be 
 uninterrupted, were it caused only by the flash of 
 lightning. As Sir Joshua says, this is the first im- 
 pression, — an impression which is distracted by the 
 
262 
 
 ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 appearance of Apollo on a strip of cloud. I am in- 
 clined to think the mistake of this introduction 
 originated in the desire of poor Wilson to draw atten- 
 tion to his neglected Art, by making it what the taste 
 of the times would consider classic. 
 
 Fuseli says of Wilson, " Though in effects of dewy 
 freshness and silent evening lights few equalled, and 
 fewer excelled him, his grandeur is oftener allied to 
 terror, bustle, and convulsion, than to calmness and 
 tranquillity." In the first half of this passage every 
 lover of Wilson will agree, while the last expresses 
 nothing more than an objection to his choosing 
 sometimes to paint storms, applied to which the 
 epithets of Fuseli are praise, rather than censure. 
 
 The next in chronological order of the British 
 school who deserves to be called a great landscape- 
 painter, and he well deserves it, is John Cozens. But 
 his works, consisting of drawings in water-colours only, 
 are confined to the portfolios of a few collectors, and 
 so little, therefore, is he known, that even some artists 
 of the present generation have never seen a landscape 
 by his hand. Neither is there much known of his 
 personal history ; but his Art made such an impres- 
 sion on Constable, that in a moment of enthusiastic 
 admiration he pronounced John Cozens to be ^' the 
 greatest genius that ever touched landscaped However 
 we may be inclined to deduct from such an estimate, 
 which may be considered as a mode of conveying a 
 very higli opinion rather than a deliberate verdict, we 
 must suppose the possession of extraordinary powers 
 by one who could be so characterised, even without 
 due reflection ; and indeed I should doubt my own 
 
ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 263 
 
 judgment, rather than doubt the existence of great 
 excellence when noticed in such a manner by Con- 
 stable, though I were unable to perceive it myself. 
 
 "Cozens," said Constable, "is all poetry." But it 
 is poetry that wins gently and imperceptibly. So 
 modest and unobtrusive are the beauties of his draw- 
 ings, that you might pass them without notice, for the 
 painter himself never says " Look at this or that," he 
 trusts implicitly to your own taste and feeling ; and 
 his works are full of half-concealed beauties, such as 
 Nature herself shows but coyly, and these are often 
 the most fleeting appearances of light. Not that his 
 style is without emphasis, for then it would be insipid, 
 which it never is, nor ever in the least commonplace. 
 Constable's great admiration of him breaks out in 
 many passages in his letters. At one time he speaks 
 of drawings by Cozens keeping him cheerful; and 
 again he says, " In the room where I am writing there 
 are hanging up two beautiful small drawings by 
 Cozens ; one a wood, close and very solemn, the 
 other a view from Vesuvius, looking over Portici, 
 very lovely." 
 
 This exquisite artist had an eye equally adapted to 
 the grandeur, the elegance, and the simplicity, of 
 Nature; but he loved best not her most gorgeous 
 language, but her gentlest, her most silent eloquence. 
 The accompanying beautiful engraving will speak 
 for itself. It is, I believe, the first ever made from 
 him, and I much regret it could not be on a larger 
 scale. 
 
 He exhibited but once only at the Academy, in 1776, 
 " A Landscape, with Hannibal in his March over the 
 
264 
 
 6>7V LANDSCAPE 
 
 Alps, showing to his Army the fertile Plains of Italy." 
 This, I have heard, was an oil picture, and so fine that 
 Turner spoke of it as a work from which he learned 
 more than from anything he had then seen. 
 
 Cozens travelled in Italy with a gentleman who kept 
 him in constant employment ; hence most of his sub- 
 jects are Italian, but I have seen some noble draw- 
 ings by him from Windsor Park. Sad to say, the last 
 years of his short life were passed in a state of mental 
 derangement ; and some of his works are so inferior 
 to his best, as to make it not improbable they were 
 done when his mind was giving way. In these, that 
 pensive tenderness, which forms the charm of his 
 evening scenes, sinks into cheerless melancholy. 
 
 From his surviving relations I have been favoured 
 with a few particulars relating to him, which I am 
 sure will be read with interest by all who know his 
 works. 
 
 His father, Alexander Cozens, was born in Russia. 
 He was a natural son of Peter the Great, his mother 
 being an English woman, whom the Czar took home 
 with him from Deptford, and by whom he had another 
 son, who became a general in the Russian service. 
 The emperor sent Alexander Cozens to Italy to study 
 painting, from whence he came to England in 1746, 
 where his son John was born in 1752. I have seen a 
 very small pen-drawing of three figures, on which is 
 written, "Done by J. Cozens, 1761, when nine years 
 old." I have also seen a book of views in Italy, drawn 
 in pencil, some finished with a pen, and others half 
 finished, in the manner of line engraving, in which 
 is pasted the following memorandum : — " Alexander 
 
ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 265 
 
 Cozens, in London, author of these drawings, lost 
 them, and many more, in Germany, by their dropping 
 from his saddle when he was riding on his way from 
 Rome to England, in the year 1746. John Cozens, 
 his son, being at Florence in the year 1776, purchased 
 them. When he returned to London in the year 
 1779, delivered the drawings to his father." 
 
 There is much of elegance, and feeling of the beau- 
 tiful forms of Nature, in these drawings of Alexander 
 Cozens. He practised as a teacher of figures as well 
 as of landscape, and published a drawing-book of the 
 figure engraved by Bartolozzi. I have seen a miniature 
 of John Cozens, in which he appears a beautiful boy of 
 fifteen or sixteen, of a fair complexion, and with a 
 quantity of light hair falling in curls over his shoulders, 
 and also a portrait of him by Pine, of the size of life, 
 and apparently when he was about thirty yearns old ; 
 a handsome, thoughtful, pale face, certainly bearing a 
 resemblance to the Emperor Alexander, as he looked 
 when I saw him in England. The death of John Cozens 
 is stated in Bryan's Dictionary as occurring in 1799, 
 but by Constable, I know not on what authority, in 
 1796. 
 
 Bryan says of him, that " he produced some draw- 
 ings of extraordinary merit, executed in a style which 
 was afterwards adopted and improved by the in- 
 genious Mr. Girtin." And this leads us to the next 
 great landscape-painter of our school. The style of 
 Thomas Girtin is not, however, an improvement, for 
 there could be none on Cozens, when at his best; 
 but it may be called a style of more equally sustained 
 excellence, as the short life of Girtin was exempt 
 
266 
 
 ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 from the malady that clouded the closing years of 
 Cozens. 
 
 Sobered tints of exquisite truth, and broad chiaro- 
 scuro, are the prevailing characteristics of Girtin. 
 However he may differ from Cozens, he loved, like 
 him, the repose of Nature j and with this feeling he 
 painted many of the cathedrals of England in solemn 
 evening effects, and occasionally in the still sunshine 
 of noon. In the year before his death, he sketched 
 twenty views in Paris, in a style of great elegance, 
 breadth, and simplicity, which he etched himself, and 
 the plates were finished in Aqua-tint by other artists. 
 He painted a panorama of London, and it is to be 
 lamented that any portion of so valuable and brief a 
 life should have been wasted on a work the enjoy- 
 ment of which was so transient. His constitution 
 was extremely delicate, and he died in 1802, of pul- 
 monary consumption, at the age of twenty -seven. 
 His devotion to Art was extreme, and he continued 
 to draw till within a few days of his death, though he 
 was so debilitated that he could scarcely hold his 
 pencil ; and it is marvellous that in so short an exist- 
 ence, and with so feeble a constitution, he should 
 have achieved so much. The truth and taste with 
 which he coloured are not more remarkable than the 
 facility of his handling. My friend, Mr. F. C. Lewis, 
 who often saw him at work, speaks of the "sword 
 play of his pencil " as something wonderful ; and, 
 indeed, every drawing by him, with which I am 
 acquainted, bears evidence of this. He is described 
 by all who remember him, as a youth of a noble, 
 generous, unselfish nature, with little consciousness of 
 
ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 267 
 
 his own great merit. "He was careful," it is said, 
 " in making his drawings, but careless of them when 
 made." The engraving here introduced is from one 
 of exceeding beauty, probably the result of a visit he 
 is known to have paid to the lakes of Scotland. 
 Engravings from Cozens and Girtin are given because 
 they are, of all the eminent landscape-painters of the 
 ' last age, the least known. The two I have next to 
 speak of, the two greatest of the first half of the 
 present century, do not require such illustrations. 
 
 Turner began with water-colours ; a mode of paint- 
 ing which he practised at later periods of his life with 
 wonderful power. In his earliest works a resemblance 
 may be noticed to Cozens (to whom he always acknow- 
 ledged great obligations), and still more to Girtin, but 
 with inferior power to either. Contemporary with 
 both, and of about the same age with Girtin, had 
 Turner died as young, his name would only have 
 survived as that of a second-rate painter. His genius 
 was of later development, and first appeared in those 
 grand, classic, and marine subjects which he painted 
 in the early part of the century. The sea-pieces 
 were his own ] the others were made up from various 
 sources in Art, and though noble works, yet not 
 generally those on which his fame will ultimately 
 rest. His Snowstorm in the Alps, however, with 
 Hannibal and his Army, would alone justify the 
 highest praises of his friends, and his "Ulysses," 
 painted at a much later period, is a poem of match- 
 less splendour and beauty. Among the great multi- 
 tude of his conceptions, there may be doubtless other 
 classical subjects equal to those direct from Nature, 
 
268 
 
 ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 but they are exceptions to the rule by which he will 
 be judged. 
 
 I was equally delighted and surprised when I heard 
 that a very young man had come forward, with extra- 
 ordinary ability, and knowledge and love of Nature, 
 as the champion of Turner, at a time when (except- 
 ing by painters) his transcendent powers were little 
 felt or understood. But I own I was disappointed 
 when I read Mr. Ruskin's Modern Painters," at 
 one of the modes he adopted in the vindication of 
 the great artist's just claim to admiration. 
 
 There is little enough of excellence in the world, 
 and its appreciation is always in danger from the 
 obtrusion of clever mediocrity, and that direction of 
 criticism, with whatever ability it is conducted, is un- 
 fortunate, that tends to obscure any of the true lights 
 in Art, in order that one great luminary may shine 
 the more brilliantly. I think, therefore, it was equally 
 unnecessary and unsafe to the reputation of Turner 
 to assume that he had fewer faults than other great 
 painters, and to contrast his beauties with the faults, 
 often indeed imaginary, of Claude, the Poussins, 
 Cuyp, or Canaletti; unnecessary, because his excel- 
 lences are of so high an order, that his greatest 
 admirers may fearlessly acknowledge all the defects 
 with which he may be charged ; and unsafe, because 
 such a system of comparison might be more easily 
 turned against him than against any painter that ever 
 lived; for there never lived one in whose works 
 greater absurdities or a larger number of impossible 
 effects might be pointed out. Then, again, the 
 assumption that other great painters are inferior to 
 
ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 269 
 
 him because they have not done the same beautiful 
 things, is unfair. Mr. Ruskin describes in his own 
 vivid manner four or five skies by Turner, and at the 
 close of every such eloquent passage, asks trium- 
 phantly, '^Has Claude given thisV^ Now it would 
 be quite as easy to select from the works either of 
 Claude, the Poussins, of Wilson, of Cuyp, of Ruys- 
 dael, and even of Canaletti, passages of peculiar 
 beauty, and to ask, with as little chance of an affir- 
 mative reply, ''^ Has Ttcrner given thisV^ 
 
 I have said that the faults Mr. Ruskin finds in the 
 old masters are often imaginary ; and in proof of this, 
 let us examine his remarks on the picture in the Na- 
 tional Gallery, by Nicolo Poussin, called "Phocian." 
 Mr. Ruskin says, "The first idea we receive from 
 this picture is, that it is evening, and all the light 
 coming from the horizon. Not so; it is full noon, 
 the light coming steep from the left, as is shown by 
 the shadow of the stick on the right-hand pedestal \ 
 for if the sun were not very high, that shadow could 
 not lose itself half-way down, and if it were not 
 lateral, the shadow would slope, instead of being 
 vertical." Now, the fact is, that if the sun were very 
 high, the shadow of the stick would be continued 
 instead of losing itself, and the effect in the picture 
 is in reahty in accordance with the more softened 
 light of the sun when near the horizon, while the 
 shadow of the man's head near the stick is placed 
 exactly where an evening sun would cast it. It is 
 true these shadows are thrown laterally into the pic- 
 ture; but this is quite consistent with as much of 
 warm light as Poussin has shown in the horizon, and 
 
270 
 
 ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 the contradiction of effects imagined by Mr. Ruskin 
 has no existence ; while, were it worth while to look 
 for blunders in Turner, we might notice that palpable 
 one in the " Dido building Carthage,'' of a shadow 
 from a beam of wood projecting from the brick wall 
 on the extreme left of the spectator, in a direction 
 which can only come from a sun much higher than 
 that in the picture. Another instance of the detec- 
 tion of a supposed falsehood by Mr. Ruskin, in a 
 great painter, but which in fact is a truth, occurs in 
 his description of Canaletti's manner of treating 
 water. After describing, with much severity, the 
 ripples in the open part of a canal, he says (and in 
 the way of censure), that, " three hundred yards away, 
 all the houses are reflected as clear and as sharp as 
 in a quiet lake." And most assuredly they are, be- 
 cause Canaletti painted what he saw, and the water 
 as it approached the houses, being sheltered by them 
 from the breeze that occasions the ripple in the 
 middle of the canal, was there as calm as "a quiet 
 lake." The reader will see a fine example of such 
 treatment in the large Canaletti in the National Gal- 
 lery. Mr. Ruskin is right in his censure of the man- 
 ner, as too mechanical, in which the ripples are painted 
 by Canaletti, a censure that applies to his execution 
 generally; still the effect in Nature he meant to 
 express is given, and his colour is always relatively 
 true and well selected, though in a subdued scale; 
 and however below Turner, Canaletti cannot be 
 spared from the list of great painters ; and in proof 
 that Turner is at least as vulnerable, I would notice 
 that, among the impossibilities in his pictures, we 
 
ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 271 
 
 often find reflections on the uneven surfaces of large 
 waves exactly perpendicular to the object reflected, 
 and as they could only be seen on calm water. 
 
 Mr. Ruskin, I know, will agree with me in con- 
 sidering it unfortunate for Turner that his picture of 
 " Dido building Carthage " is placed in the National 
 Gallery beside Claude's " Embarkation of the Queen 
 of Sheba ; " for his notice of the two pictures of Car- 
 thage is among the few instances in which he admits 
 a fault in Turner. "The foreground," he says, "of 
 the 'Building of Carthage,' and the greater part of 
 the architecture of the Fall, are equally heavy and 
 evidently paint, if we compare them with genuine 
 passages of Claude's sunshine." For my own part, 
 when I look at the "Building of Carthage" I feel as 
 if I were in a theatre, decorated with the most splen- 
 did of drop-scenes ; but when I stand before Claude's 
 "Embarkation" I am in the open air enjoying the 
 sea-breeze, and listening to the plash of the waves on 
 the beach. Yet this does not convince me that 
 Claude was a greater man than Turner, because it is 
 a comparison of one of the most artificial pictures of 
 the English painter, with one of the most natural 
 works of the Frenchman ; and I only make the com- 
 parison to show that Claude is not to be deposed, to 
 place on his throne one who wants it not, because he 
 has raised himself to a throne, unoccupied before, and 
 from which his sway is extended over a wider dominion, 
 though, for that very reason, with less absolute power 
 in every corner of it. Claude could not paint a storm. 
 Turner's sea-storms are the finest ever painted ; and 
 though Claude is best seen in tranquil sunshine, yet 
 
272 
 
 ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 there are many beautiful and brilliant mid-day appear- 
 ances, of perfect stillness, that were never seen on 
 canvas till Turner gave them with a power preclud- 
 ing all imitation; and I can well believe, with Mr. 
 Ruskin, in the truth of his Venetian scenes, those 
 splendid palaces and churches under the brightest 
 skies, and reflected in the clearest waters. Others 
 may have painted with more truth many of the lesser 
 facts, but he alone has given the great facts that are 
 the prevailing associations with Venice. I have never 
 seen Switzerland ; but I have known those who have 
 gone there sceptics with respect to Turner's excel- 
 lence, and returned worshippers ; and I know enough 
 of lake scenery to feel how great a painter he is of 
 mountains and lakes, with all their changes of sun- 
 shine, cloud, and mist. Such are the things which 
 are the real praise of this wonderful painter of light, 
 and space, and air. 
 
 I have read with attention Mr. Ruskin's remarks 
 on Turner's trees and foliage, but without being con- 
 vinced that he was so great a painter of these as of 
 other features of Nature. With the exception of here 
 and there a willow, and, in his Italian views, the 
 frequent pine and cypress, I look in vain for a specific 
 discrimination in his trees, or in the vegetation of 
 his foregrounds, in which there is little that is 
 English. I cannot remember an oak, an elm, an ash, 
 or a beech, in any picture by him (only a fine de- 
 cayed oak in one of his vignettes), nor do I remem- 
 ber anything much like the beauty of an English 
 hedge. Neither has he expressed the deep fresh 
 verdure of his own country; and hence he is the 
 
 J 
 
ON LANDSCAPE ' 373 
 
 most unfaithful (among great painters) to the essential 
 and most beautiful characteristics of English midland 
 scenery. Constable said to me, "Did you ever see a 
 picture by Turner, and not wish to possess it?" I 
 forget the reply, but I might have named his' view 
 from the terrace at Richmond; from which, with the 
 exception of the general composition, every beauty of 
 that noble landscape is left out. I remember, in a 
 summer of unusual drought, when the trees became 
 embrowned and the grass was burnt up, that the 
 colour of the woods and meadows seen from Rich- 
 mond approached to that of Turner's picture; but I 
 never remember to have met with trees of such forms 
 as those which he has placed in its foreground, in any 
 part of the world; nor am I acquainted, in Nature 
 with those trees often to be seen in his middle dis- 
 tances, which Mr. Ruskin accurately describes as 
 shaped like pears with the stem downwards. 
 
 But there is no end to this kind of criticism, either 
 of Turner or of any other great painter; and though 
 there may be instruction in it, it seems ungracious 
 towards those who have done so much to delight us • 
 and indeed even all the faults that the most micro- 
 scopic dissection can detect in the few painters who 
 stand in the highest rank are not condemnatory; for 
 It IS easy to imagine a style without one of their faults, 
 and with no flagrant violation of the truth of Nature' 
 which yet may be insipid, commonplace, and value- 
 less, compared with theirs. I remember a poet, now 
 remembered by nobody, or rather a writer of verse, 
 who placed himself higher than Lord Byron, because' 
 as he said (and truly), he never wrote an immoral line, 
 
274 
 
 ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 and filled his pages with recommendations of every- 
 thing virtuous. 
 
 There is a place among our painters which Turner 
 left unoccupied, and which neither Wilson, Gains- 
 borough, Cozens, nor Girtin, so completely filled as 
 John Constable. He was the most genuine painter 
 of English cultivated scenery, leaving untouched its 
 mountains and lakes. Having characterised his pecu- 
 liar powers, as well as I could, when I printed a col- 
 lection of his letters, I shall now confine myself to a 
 notice of Mr. Ruskin's remarks on him. In the pre- 
 face to "Modern Painters," that gentleman says, 
 "The feelings of Constable with respect to his art 
 might be almost a model for the young student, were 
 it not that they err a little on the other side,^ and are 
 perhaps in need of chastening and guiding from the 
 works of his fellow-men. We should use pictures, not 
 as authorities, but as comments on Nature, just as we 
 use divines, not as authorities, but as comments on 
 the Bible. Constable, in his dread of saint-worship, 
 deprives himself of much instruction from the Scripture 
 to which he holds, because he will not accept aid in 
 reading it from the learning of other men." 
 
 How far this charge is just, the reader will deter- 
 mine when he is informed that Constable's first-known 
 attempts in Art were pen-and-ink copies of the prints 
 from Raphael's Cartoons; his next, copies of the 
 etchings of Ruysdael ; and that, later in life and occa- 
 sionally towards the close of it, he made careful copies 
 of Wilson, of Ruysdael, Rubens, Teniers, and Claude ; 
 
 1 The quotation is from a note to a passage of which the 
 genuine love of Nature by English artists is the subject. 
 
ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 275 
 
 copies, some of which might pass for the originals. 
 His walls also were covered with pictures, drawings, 
 and prints, of the great landscape and other painters, 
 and he venerated styles in Art that have been vene- 
 rated by all the best artists, but of which Mr. Ruskin 
 occasionally speaks with that ridicule which he so well 
 knows how to use. 
 
 In another page of "Modern Painters," I read 
 that " Unteachableness seems to have been a main 
 feature of his " (Constable's) " character, and there is 
 a corresponding want of veneration in the way he 
 approaches Nature herself." The first of these charges, 
 I think, has been sufficiently answered ; and to the 
 second I will oppose a quotation from one of Con- 
 stable's lectures, and ask if the words are those of a 
 man wanting in veneration of Nature. "The land- 
 scape-painter," he says, "must walk in the fields with 
 an humble mind. No arrogant man was ever per- 
 mitted to see Nature in all her beauty. If I may be 
 allowed to use a very solemn quotation, I would say 
 most emphatically to the student, * Remember now 
 thy Creator in the days of thy youth.' " 
 
 " His early education and associations," continues 
 Mr. Ruskin, " were also against him — they induced a 
 morbid preference of subjects of a low order." Con- 
 stable's education was among farmers and millers, and 
 I should say, therefore, not unfavourable to a painter 
 of pastoral landscape; and whether his subjects are 
 to be ranked as of a low order, or not, is a question 
 of taste. The materials of which his landscapes are 
 chiefly composed are thus enumerated by himself, in 
 his description of "the scenes of his boyhood," which 
 
276 
 
 ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 he was fond of saying "made him a painter." " Gentle 
 declivities, luxuriant meadow flats, sprinkled with 
 flocks and herds, well cultivated uplands, with nume- 
 rous scattered villages and churches, with farms and 
 picturesque cottages." 
 
 Another objection to his Art, that requires notice, 
 is that Mr. Ruskin has "never seen any work of his 
 in which there are any signs of his being able to 
 draw ; " and from this sentence I can only conclude 
 that Mr. Ruskin has either never seen a genuine pic- 
 ture by Constable, and that his impression is derived 
 from the numerous forgeries of his works in circula- 
 tion, or that he has seen pictures by him, without 
 looking at them, which often happens where we are not 
 interested. Even in those late works in which Con- 
 stable used the palette-knife to excess, and in which, 
 as was often the case with Turner, his mind was more 
 intent on colour and effect than on form, there are 
 always evidences of his power of accurate drawing ; 
 and I may add that his studies of clouds, of trees, of 
 churches, mills, etc., show him to be as perfect a mas- 
 ter of drawing as he was of colour and chiaroscuro. 
 
 Having mentioned his use of the palette-knife, I 
 should state that he was himself aware he had done 
 so to an excess. In a note to me, he said, " I have 
 laid the palette-knife down, but not until I had cut 
 my own throat with it." The truth is, that the pictures 
 in which he most used this instrument, are those of 
 which there are the greatest number of forgeries. A 
 practised eye will, however, generally detect these, as, 
 in such imitations, one colour is smeared over another 
 so as to have the muddled and filthy look of the rags 
 
ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 277 
 
 with which a painter cleans his palette; while the 
 dashes of colour from Constable's knife have the look 
 of gems, and the more they are magnified the more 
 brilliant they appear. His " Waterloo Bridge/' of all 
 his large pictures the one in which it was most used, 
 seems painted with liquid gold and silver. The 
 palette-knife appears everywhere, the palette nowhere. 
 I must add to these remarks, that as Constable made 
 a sketch of the full size of every large picture he 
 painted, and as these sketches are complete in effect, 
 though not in detail, they are sometimes mistaken for 
 pictures, and a false notion is therefore conveyed of 
 his Art. It is just possible that some of these may 
 have given to Mr. Ruskin an impression of his want 
 of reverence for Nature, though, considered as a 
 means by which to make his pictures more perfect, 
 they prove the reverse. 
 
 Mr. Ruskin alludes to the often-repeated saying of 
 Fuseli, and to which Constable himself first gave cur- 
 rency, but Mr. Ruskin shows a very limited acquaint- 
 ance with Constable's works, when he calls his effects 
 "great-coat weather and nothing more." Nobody 
 has painted with more truth the finest English sum- 
 mer weather, — as in the "White Horse," the "Strat- 
 ford Mill," the "Hay Wain," the "Waterloo Bridge," 
 and others of his large pictures ; and particularly in a 
 little meadow scene, of matchless beauty, and the 
 " Boat Building," both in the collection of Mr. Sheep- 
 shanks. Now none of these pictures have much of 
 what are called warm colours ; but they express the 
 warmth of summer so truly that in some of them (the 
 last two especially) I can fancy I see the tremulous 
 
278 
 
 ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 vibration of the heated air near the ground. Con- 
 stable never fell into the common mistake by which 
 even Turner appears to have been influenced, namely, 
 that what are called warm colours are essential to 
 convey the idea of warmth in a landscape. The 
 truth is, that red, orange, and yellow, are only seen in 
 the sky at the coolest hours of the day, and brown 
 and yellow tints, in the foliage of England, prevail 
 only in the spring and autumn. But he fearlessly 
 painted midsummer noon -day heat, with blues, 
 greens, and grays forming the predominant masses. 
 And he succeeded : because his sensibility of eye 
 directed him to the true tones and arrangements in 
 Nature of these colours at the season he most loved 
 to paint, and which he generally indicated by an elder- 
 tree in flower. 
 
 While speaking of the colour of Nature, I must not 
 omit to notice a mistake painters who theorise rather 
 than observe fall into, when they give a yellow tinge 
 to all objects in noon-day sunshine, inferring that so 
 it must be because the local colour of the sun is 
 yellow. But, in fact, excepting in the morning or 
 evening, white, in sunshine, is only a purer white, and 
 blue receives not the least tint of green ; indeed in 
 blue, even when lighted by the warmest setting sun, 
 it is not easy to detect any change. 
 
 Having quoted, with dissent, some of Mr. Ruskin's 
 remarks, I must in justice to that gemleman transcribe 
 a passage m which he speaks of the Art of Constable 
 as " thoroughly original, thoroughly honest, free from 
 affectation, manly in manner, frequently successful in 
 cool colour, and realising certain motives of English 
 
ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 279 
 
 scenery with perhaps as much affection as such scenery, 
 unless when regarded through media of feeHng derived 
 from higher sources, is calculated to inspire." Con- 
 stable, in fact, practised more to the letter than any 
 of his contemporaries what Mr. Ruskin insists on, 
 with great spirit, in another page. "Whatever," he 
 says, " is to be truly great and affecting must have on 
 it the stamp of the native land. Not a law this, but 
 a necessity, from the intense hold on their country of 
 the affections of all truly great men. All classicality, 
 all middle -age patent reviving, is utterly vain and 
 absurd ; if we are now to do anything great, good, 
 awful, religious, it must be got out of our own little 
 island, railroads and all." To this I heartily subscribe, 
 and I wish also to be understood as fully sensible of the 
 estimate of the high mission of Art which everywhere 
 appears in the pages of a critic from whom I have 
 received much instruction; and though I cannot 
 agree with Mr. Ruskin in all things, I know no 
 modern writer from whom so many maxims, valuable 
 in matters of taste, and often in higher things, may be 
 quoted. 
 
 It is but a very small portion of the world's surface 
 that has been cultivated, so to speak, by the landscape- 
 painter, because, indeed, all Art has been confined 
 within a very narrow geographical limit. The few 
 transcripts of scenery that have been brought to 
 Europe from distant lands are from the hands of 
 amateurs or inferior painters, who have been unable 
 to express the truth of atmosphere, the greatest 
 difficulty, as it is the most important of all the 
 requisites of landscape Art, for without it we caD 
 
28o 
 
 ON LANDSCAPE 
 
 never transport ourselves in imagination to the climes 
 represented. Humboldt dwells eloquently on the 
 magnificence of tropical landscape; but unless a 
 Turner could visit the scenes he describes, and 
 scarcely then, no European could receive anything 
 like an impression of their splendour. The time 
 may come when such scenery shall be truly painted, 
 but this will not be till civilisation and genuine Art 
 are established in the midst of it, and even then a 
 thorough appreciation of its beauties will only dwell 
 with those who are native to it. 
 
SECTION XVI 
 On Portrait 
 
 As often as I hear the annual protest against the 
 preponderance of portraiture in the Academy,^ I am 
 inclined to say that the interest of the Exhibition 
 can only be affected by the quality and not by the 
 quantity of such Art ; for I never saw so delightful a 
 display of pictures as the assemblage of the works of 
 Reynolds, in 1813, at the British Gallery; nearly all 
 being portraits. Such Art as his requires indeed, the 
 highest powers of mind, hand, and eye ; and I do not 
 believe that when Raphael or Titian occasionally 
 quitted History for Portrait, it occurred to them that 
 they were descending to a lower sphere ; and I am 
 sure they did not find it easier to satisfy themselves. 
 Art was not then classed as it now is. The great 
 masters considered themselves as painters, not of this 
 
 1 When the Exhibition is condemned on account of the 
 quantity of portrait, it is forgotten that if the painters of in- 
 different works of this class had employed themselves on 
 subjects from poetry or history, or on landscape, the interest 
 would not be greater. When bad portraits are better placed 
 than good pictures of other classes, it is a just cause of com- 
 plaint ; and when indifferent pictures of other classes take the 
 precedence of good portrait, the complaint is equally just. 
 
282 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 or that, but of everything; and as Poussin said of 
 himself, they "neglected nothing." 
 
 There has never existed a great painter of History 
 or Poetry who has not been great in portrait. Even 
 Michael Angelo is no exception. There may not 
 remain any painted portraits of known persons by his 
 hand, but there are sculptured portraits by him, and 
 it is impossible to look even at the engravings of the 
 Prophets and Sibyls, without seeing that they are 
 from a hand practised in portrait — a hand, too, that 
 had acquired its power by the practice of literal 
 exactness. "Fuseli distinguishes the styles — epic, 
 dramatic, and historic — beautifully," says Mr. Haydon. 
 But I think, as I do of such distinctions generally, 
 that these are entirely imaginary ; and that the style 
 of Michael Angelo is distinguished, as are all others, 
 by the peculiar mind of the artist only, Haydon 
 adds that, "the same instruments are used in all 
 styles, men and women ; and no two men or women 
 were ever the same in form, feature, or proportion. 
 After Fuseli has said, ' the detail of character is not 
 consistent with the epic,' he goes on to show the 
 great difference of character between each Prophet, 
 as decided as any character chosen by Raphael in 
 any of his more essentially dramatic works. ' Nor are 
 the Sibyls,' continues Fuseli, 'those female oracles, 
 less expressive or less individually marked.' " Thus, 
 though Haydon was unwilling to abandon the classi- 
 fications of Fuseli, the contradiction involved in them 
 did not escape him. 
 
 There cannot be a doubt that Michael Angelo, had 
 he devoted himself to portrait only, would have been 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 283 
 
 a superlative portrait-painter; for in his works we 
 find everything in perfection that portrait requires— 
 dignity, the expression of character, the highest per- 
 ception of beauty, in man, woman, and child; and 
 not only in the unfinished marble that adorns our 
 Academy library, but in the smaller compartments of 
 the Sistine ceiling, the most natural and familiar 
 
 A GROUP — BY MICHAEL ANGELO. 
 
 domestic incidents treated in the most graceful 
 manner. It is right this should be remembered, 
 because painters (as they fancy themselves) of High 
 Art, who really have not the talents portrait requires, 
 must not be allowed to class themselves with Michael 
 
284 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 Angelo, as long as they cannot do what he, in perfec- 
 tion, could do. 
 
 Conspicuous as he stands among great portrait- 
 painters, Vandyke is not first of the first. The 
 attitudes of his single figures are often formal and 
 unmeaning ; and his groups, however finely connected 
 by composition, are seldom connected by sentiment. 
 Fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters, stand or sit 
 beside each other, as they stood or sat in his room, 
 for the mere purpose of being painted; and it is 
 therefore the nicely-discriminated individual character 
 of every head, the freshness and delicacy of his 
 colour, and the fine treatment of his masses, that 
 have placed him high among portrait-painters. The 
 Countess of Bedford at Petworth, his Snyders at 
 Castle Howard, his whole-lengths at Warwick and at 
 Windsor, the noble equestrian picture at Blenheim, of 
 Charles I., with its magnificent landscape background, 
 and the whole-length of Charles in the Louvre, are 
 among the masterpieces of Vandyke ; but he has 
 nowhere shown such dramatic powers as are displayed 
 by Velasquez, in his portrait picture of ''The Sur- 
 render of Breda." 
 
 The governor of the town is presenting its keys to 
 the Marquis Spinola, who (hat in hand) neither takes 
 them, nor allows his late antagonist to kneel. But, 
 laying his hand gently on his shoulder, he seems to 
 say, " Fortune has favoured me, but our cases might 
 have been reversed." To paint such an act of gener- 
 ous courtesy was worthy of a contemporary of Cer- 
 vantes. It is not, however, in the choice of the sub- 
 ject, but in the manner in which he has brought the 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 285 
 
 scene before our eyes, that the genius and mind of 
 Velasquez are shown. The cordial unaffected bear- 
 ing of the conqueror could only have been repre- 
 sented by as thorough a gentleman as himself. I know 
 this picture but from copies. Mr. Ford says of the 
 original, "Never were knights, soldiers, or national 
 character better painted, or the heavy Fleming, the 
 intellectual Italian, and the proud Spaniard, more 
 nicely marked, even to their boots and breeches ; the 
 lances of the guards actually vibrate. Observe the 
 contrast of the light-blue delicate page, with the dark, 
 iron-clad General, Spinola, who, ' the model of a high- 
 bred generous warrior, is consoling a gallant but 
 vanquished enemy." ^ 
 
 Another great portrait picture, the conception of 
 which is equally dramatic and original, is at Windsor 
 Castle. The Archduke Ferdinand of Austria and the 
 Prince of Spain, mounted on chargers, are directing 
 an assault in the battle of Nortlingen. The conven- 
 tional manner, sanctioned indeed by great painters, of 
 representing commanders of armies, whether mounted 
 or on foot, quietly looking out of the picture, while 
 the battle rages behind them, is here set aside. The 
 generals are riding into the scene of action ; and yet 
 their attitudes are so contrived as sufficiently to show 
 their features. Nearer to the spectator are half- 
 
 1 Of Spinola, Mr. Ford adds: — " He was another of those 
 many foreigners who, having borne the war-brunt and gained 
 victories for Spain, have been rewarded with ingratitude. He 
 took Breda, June 2, 1652, and died five years afterwards broken- 
 hearted, exclaiming, * They have robbed me of honour ! ' Velas- 
 quez has introduced his own noble head into this picture, which 
 is placed in the corner with a plumed hat." 
 
286 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 length figures, the end of a long line of steel-clad 
 infantry, diminishing in perspective up a hill to the 
 fortress they are storming. All is action ; and, though 
 we are only shown the generals and the common 
 soldiers, yet, as the horses of the former are in pro- 
 file, and have just come into the picture, we may 
 imagine a train of attendant officers about to appear ; 
 and though portrait was the first object of Rubens, 
 the picture is a noble representation of a battle. The 
 conception, as regards the foot soldiers, has been imi- 
 tated, though differently applied, by Opie ; and prob- 
 ably Raphael's composition in the Vatican, repre- 
 senting David gazing at Bathsheba, while the troops 
 of Uriah pass below him, suggested it to Rubens. 
 
 The pendant to this picture is the group of Sir 
 Balthasar Gerbier, his wife, and children ; which Dr. 
 Waagen inchnes to attribute to Vandyke. But the 
 arrangement and dramatic connection of the figures 
 are entirely free from the formality of Vandyke ; and a 
 comparison of this fine composition with Vandyke's 
 " Children of Charles I." at Windsor, his " Pembroke 
 Family" at Wilton, his ^'Earl and Countess of 
 Derby" belonging to Lord Clarendon, or *'The 
 Nassau Family" at Penshanger, will show that it 
 is by Rubens. 
 
 Perhaps the noblest group of portraits ever painted, 
 for it is considered the greatest work of its class by 
 Titian, is that of the male part of the family of Luigi 
 Cornaro. The fine old man, whose life by an extra- 
 ordinary system of temperance was protracted to a 
 hundred years, kneels before an altar in the open air, 
 followed by his son-in-law and grandchildren, except 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 287 
 
 the three youngest, who are sitting on the steps of the 
 altar playing with a little dog, an incident like some 
 I have noticed in the works of Raphael. The char- 
 acteristic arrangement of the figures, the noble sim- 
 phcity of the Hues, and the truth and power of the 
 colour, unite in placing this picture on the summit 
 of Art. There is no apparent sacrifice of detail, no 
 trick, that we can discover, to give supremacy to the 
 heads, which yet rivet our attention at the first glance, 
 and to which we return again and again, impressed by 
 the thought and mind in the countenances of the 
 elder personages, and charmed with the youthful in- 
 nocence of the boys. I have seen people, ignorant 
 of the principles of Art, and caring little about pic- 
 tures, stand before this one in astonishment, and I 
 have heard them express themselves in a way which 
 proved that little of its excellence was lost on them. 
 Fortunately for England, it belongs to His Grace the 
 Duke of Northumberland.^ 
 
 There was a time when kings, warriors, and other 
 eminent persons, were painted, almost as a matter of 
 course, in devotional attitudes. It was, in fact, a 
 fashion, and was continued to a later date than the 
 close of Titian's life. But it is not so much what the 
 individual painted may be doing, as its consistency 
 with his whole life, and the look and manner given 
 him by the painter, which interests or offends us. 
 The piety of a kneeling hero may be ostentatious ; or 
 
 1 Barry speaks of it as having been ruined by a picture- 
 cleaner. But he was wholly mistaken ; no picture of Titian is 
 in a finer condition, and it would be fortunate if all were so well 
 preserved. 
 
288 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 we might happen to know that devotion was all the 
 religion he practised, and that he was lifting to Heaven 
 hands that had been steeped, and were again to be 
 steeped, in innocent blood. Sir Thomas More was 
 several times painted by Holbein, yet never, that I 
 recollect, in an attitude of devotion, or accompanied 
 by any symbol of that religion which was the rule of 
 his life ; and what would the memory of More, or the 
 genius of Holbein, have gained had he so painted 
 him? Raphael flattered Leo the Tenth, as he was 
 directed, by introducing him, in the " Attila," as Leo 
 the First. But when he was to paint a more charac- 
 teristic portrait of the Pope, he represented only the 
 sovereign and the dilettante. Leo is examining with 
 a glass a splendidly-illuminated manuscript. He sits 
 in a chair of state, attended, not by saints, but by 
 two princes of the church ; and the portrait is, as all 
 portraits should be, biographical. Even in copies 
 (from which only I know it), I fancy I see faint indica- 
 tions of a love of fun, so characteristic of a Pontiff 
 who delighted in a practical joke. 
 
 The admirers of devotional portrait object to the 
 more modern custom of indicating the deeds of the 
 person represented, as savouring of vanity ; forgetting 
 that acts of devotion are deeds, and, as far as attitude 
 and expression have to do with devotion, the easiest 
 of all deeds ; and, when consisting in these alone, the 
 most criminal of all vanities. The only portrait of 
 that admirable woman, Margaret Tudor, represents 
 her in a religious habit, with her hands joined in 
 prayer, and she could not have been so characteristic- 
 ally handed down to us in any other dress or atti- 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 289 
 
 tude. Neither could Sir Joshua's portrait of General 
 Eliott be more happily conceived than it is. The 
 key of the fortress he is defending is held firmly in 
 his hand. But commanding as are the air and atti- 
 tude, they have nothing of the vanity of bravado ; 
 indeed, if what is most honourable to the man should 
 not be painted, the world would not have possessed 
 the noble conception of Velasquez that has been 
 described. 
 
 What may be called masquerading or fancy ball 
 portrait is seldom happy; and though we do not 
 object to Sir Joshua's " Kitty Fisher as Cleopatra," or 
 " Emily Bertie as Thais," yet, as in such cases, let us 
 be sure the assumed character accords with the real 
 one. Sir Thomas Lawrence made a sketch of George 
 the Fourth in the armour of the Black Prince, but 
 had the good sense not to carry the matter farther 
 than a sketch. 
 
 Are portrait-painters, it may be asked, to paint the 
 vices of their sitters? Assuredly, if these vices 
 exhibit themselves in the countenance. And Fuseli 
 praises Titian for expressing some of the most odious 
 individual characteristics, in portraits that he selects as 
 works of the highest order. 
 
 Allan Cunningham accuses Reynolds of flattery, 
 and I apprehend Sir Joshua was just as much of a 
 flatterer as Titian. With a vulgar head before him, 
 he would not, or rather could not, make a vulgar 
 picture. But I do not believe that he would have 
 given to Colonel Charteris "an aspect worthy a 
 President of the Society for the Suppression of 
 Vice," unless, which is not impossible, he had such 
 
 u 
 
290 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 an aspect. In his whole-length of the Duke of 
 Orleans, the debauchee was as apparent as the 
 Prince.-^ 
 
 No man can be a good portrait-painter who is not 
 a good physiognomist. I do not mean that he should 
 know Lavater by heart, or that he must believe in all 
 that phrenology assumes. But he must be, what all 
 of us are in some degree, a judge of character by 
 the signs exhibited in the face. A few of the broad 
 distinctions of physiognomy depend on the forms of 
 the features, but all its nicer shades have far more 
 to do with expression ; and in this, indeed, the real 
 character is often seen where the conformation of the 
 features seems to contradict it. Socrates had the 
 face and figure of a Silenus, but the great mind of the 
 philosopher must have been visible, through the dis- 
 guise, to all who could read expression. There are 
 some general and well-known rules for the determina- 
 tion of physiognomical character, as far as it has to do 
 with the shapes of the features ; the aquiline nose 
 and eye, for instance, belong to the heroic class, 
 thick lips to the sensual, and thin to the selfish ; yet 
 all these may be liable to many exceptions ; the first 
 certainly are, for Nelson, Wolfe, Turenne, and many 
 other heroes will occur to our recollection who had 
 nothing of the eagle physiognomy. It is natural to 
 associate beauty with goodness, and ugliness with 
 wickedness ; and children generally do this. But an 
 acquaintance with the world soon shows us that bad 
 
 1 This very fine picture, which I remember at the British 
 Gallery in 1 81 3, was destroyed by fire. A large engraving, and 
 some good copies of it, exist. 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 291 
 
 and selfish hearts may be concealed under the 
 handsomest features, and the highest virtues hidden 
 under the homeliest; and that goodness may even 
 consist with conformations of face absolutely ugly. 
 We then begin to look for the character in the expres- 
 sion rather than in the forms of the features, and to 
 distinguish assumed expressions from natural ones ; 
 and so we go on, and, as we grow older, become 
 better physiognomists, though we never arrive at that 
 certainty of judgment which seems not to be in- 
 tended we ever should. 
 
 The best portrait -painters, though they may not 
 have penetrated through the mask to all beneath it, 
 have, by the fidelity of their Art, given resemblances 
 that sometimes correct, and sometimes confirm, the 
 verdicts of historians. Who can look at Vandyke's 
 three heads, ^ painted to enable Bernini to make a 
 bust, and believe all that has been said against Charles 
 I. ? Or who can look at Holbein's portraits of Henry 
 Vin., and doubt the worst that has been said of his 
 selfish cruelty ? 
 
 Among the many excellences of Holbein, his treat- 
 ment of the hands is not the least ; and it is evident 
 that in his whole-lengths of Henry, they are portraits, 
 and so are the legs, and that the king stood for the 
 entire figure in that characteristic, but by no means 
 graceful attitude, in which he set the fashion to his 
 courtiers. We feel that we could swear to the truth, 
 the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, of such 
 portraits. 
 
 Among the pictures at Hampton Court attributed 
 ^ At Windsor Castle, and inimitably engraved by Sharp. 
 
292 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 to Holbein, few can be relied on as genuine. I can^ 
 not believe that those historical curiosities, *^The 
 Embarkation of Henry VIH. from Dover,'' "The 
 Field of the Cloth of Gold," "The Meeting of Henry 
 and Maximilian," or "The Battle of the Spurs," are 
 his works ; neither do I believe he painted the pic- 
 ture that includes Henry, Jane Seymour, Prince 
 Edward, Mary, and Elizabeth, nor the life-sized 
 whole-length of "The Earl of Surrey." According 
 to the general custom of attributing the portraits of 
 every age to the greatest master of that age, Holbein 
 is made answerable for these and many others, greatly 
 inferior to the picture, certainly by him, belonging 
 to the Surgeon -Barbers' Company; a work rivalling 
 Titian in its colour, and in the finely-marked indi- 
 vidual character of the heads. It is remarkable that, 
 although it has hung in the very heart of London ^ 
 for more than three hundred years, it has not in the 
 least suffered from smoke ; and if it has ever been 
 cleaned, it has sustained no injury from the process.^ 
 Dr. Waagen urges the importance of so fine a picture 
 being removed to the National Gallery, and thinks 
 an arrangement might be made to that purpose be- 
 tween the Government and the company that pos- 
 sesses it; " a consummation devoutly to be wished." 
 There is not a Holbein in the National Gallery, 
 
 1 The Surgeon-Barbers' Hall escaped the great fire. 
 
 " I believe that when pictures in the National Gallery have 
 required cleaning, the necessity has arisen from the deepening of 
 yellow varnishes, and those other obscurations of which I have 
 already spoken, rather than from the smoke of London, which 
 may be easily washed off without removing the original varnish. 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 293 
 
 While speaking of this great painter, I must not 
 omit to notice the interest given to his picture of the 
 family of Sir Thomas More, by making the back- 
 ground an exact representation of an apartment in 
 More's house. This example might effect a great 
 improvement in portrait, and it would often be found 
 easier to the painter (as well as far more agreeable), 
 to copy realities, than to weary himself with ineffectual 
 attempts to make the eternal pillar and curtain, or 
 the conventional sky and tree, look as well as they 
 do in the backgrounds of Reynolds and Gainsborough. 
 
 The question relating to the degree in which per- 
 sonal defects are to be marked must, in every case, 
 be settled by the taste of the painter. Reynolds has 
 not only shown that Baretti was near-sighted, but he 
 has made that defect as much the subject of the 
 picture as the sitter himself, and Baretti's absorption 
 in his book strongly marks the literary man. But 
 near-sightedness is not a deformity, and there can be 
 no doubt that Reynolds abated whatever of malfor- 
 mation he might not for the sake of individuality 
 think it right to exclude, and that he also invariably 
 softened harshness of feature or expression, and 
 diminished positive ugliness, as far as he could do 
 so without losing character. Chantrey did the same ; 
 but Lawrence softened harshness so much as often to 
 lose character. The portraits of neither of the three 
 could ever be called ridiculously like, an expression 
 sometimes used in the way of compliment, but in 
 reality pointing exactly to what a portrait should not 
 be ; and Wilkie felt this so much that he went to the 
 other extreme, and even deviated into unlikeness in 
 
294 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 his portraits, from the dread of that un-ideal mode of 
 representation which excites us to laugh. 
 
 We undervalue that which costs us least effort, and 
 West, while engaged on a small picture of his own 
 family, little thought how much it would surpass in 
 interest many of his more ambitious works. Its sub- 
 ject is the first visit of his father and elder brother, to 
 his young wife, after the birth of her second child. 
 They are Quakers ; and the venerable old man and 
 his eldest son wear their hats, according to the cus- 
 tom of their sect. Nothing can be more beautifully 
 conceived than the mother bending over the babe, 
 sleeping in her lap. She is wrapped in a white 
 dressing-gown, and her other son, a boy of six years 
 old, is leaning on the arm of her chair. West stands 
 behind his father, with his palette and brushes in his 
 hand, and the silence that reigns over the whole is 
 that of religious meditation ; which will probably end, 
 according to the Quaker custom, in a prayer from 
 the patriarch of the family. The picture is a very 
 small one, the engraving from it being of the same 
 size. It has no excellence of colour, but the masses 
 of light and shadow are impressive and simple, and 
 I know not a more original illustration of the often- 
 painted subject, the ages of man. Infancy, child- 
 hood, youth, middle life, and extreme age, are beauti- 
 fully brought together in the quiet chamber of the 
 painter's wife. Had he been employed to paint 
 these five ager., he would perhaps have given himself 
 a great deal of trouble to produce a work that would 
 have been classical, but, compared with this, common- 
 place ; while he has here succeeded in making a pic- 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 295 
 
 ture which, being intended only for himself, is for that 
 reason a picture for the whole world ; and if painters 
 could always thus put their hearts into their work, 
 how much would the general interest of the Art be 
 increased ! 
 
 Among the many great lessons in portrait com- 
 position, by Rembrandt, are " The Night AVatch " at 
 Amsterdam, "The Group of Surgeons assembled 
 round a Corpse," in the Musee at the Hague ; and 
 the picture which Mr. Smith, in his "Catalogue 
 Raisonne," calls "Ranier Hanslo and his Mother." 
 A sight of the two first is well worth a journey to 
 Holland. The last is sometimes described as "a 
 woman consulting a Baptist minister," and at others, 
 " a woman consulting an eminent lawyer, or an emi- 
 nent physician." As there are large books on a table 
 and in the background,- and the expressions of the 
 heads are earnest and serious, the subject might be 
 either of these. I saw the picture (which belongs to 
 the Earl of Ashburnham) many years ago, and have 
 ever since been haunted with the wish to see it again. 
 Indeed I was about to make a day's journey for that 
 sole purpose, when it was sent to London for sale.^ 
 The persons it represents are unknown, the heads of 
 neither are remarkable for beauty or any other inter- 
 est than that marked individuality that carries with it 
 a certainty of likeness ; and yet it is a picture that 
 throws down every barrier that would exclude it from 
 the highest class of Art; nor do I know anything 
 from the hand of Rembrandt in which he appears 
 
 ^ Every artist who then saw it, hoped it would be secured for 
 the National Gallery. 
 
296 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 greater than in this simple and unpretending work. 
 I remember being surprised to hear Sir Thomas Law- 
 rence object to its treatment, that though the man 
 turns towards the woman, and is speaking earnestly, 
 while she is listening with great attention, yet they do 
 not look in each other's faces. I was surprised that 
 he should not have noticed how frequently this 
 happens, in conversations on the most important sub- 
 jects, and oftenest, indeed, in such conversations. 
 Rembrandt has repeated these attitudes and expres- 
 sions, in the two principal personages in " The Night 
 Watch," with the difference only, that the figures are 
 walking as they converse. There is an engraving of 
 the " Hanslo and his Mother " by Josiah Boydell, 
 which, however, fails in giving the breadth of light on 
 the female head, the colour of which is as near to 
 perfection as Art ever approached. 
 
 The hands in Rembrandt's portraits, as in those of 
 Holbein, do everything required of them in the most 
 natural and expressive way. But very different are 
 the hands of Vandyke, which have an affected grace 
 adopted from Rubens, though carried farther from 
 Nature, and which may be traced from Rubens to 
 Correggio. The hands in Vandyke's portraits are 
 always of one type, thin and elegant, with long tapered 
 fingers. He was followed in these particulars by Lely 
 with still more of affectation, who carried a corre- 
 sponding mannerism into his faces, losing nearly all 
 individuality in that one style of beauty that was in 
 fashion. 
 
 A nobleman said to Lely, " How is it that you 
 have so great a reputation, when you know, as well 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 297 
 
 as I do, that you are no painter ? " " True, but I am 
 the best you have," was the answer. And so it is ; 
 the best artist of the age will generally, while living, 
 have a reputation equal to the greatest that have pre- 
 ceded him. Lely, however, was a painter, and of 
 very great merit. His colour, always pearly and 
 refined, is often very charming. He understood well 
 the treatment of landscape as background, and there 
 are some of his pictures which I prefer to some pic- 
 tures by Vandyke. 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds remarks that in general the 
 greatest portrait-painters have not copied closely the 
 dresses of their time. Holbein, however, took no 
 liberties with the doublets, hose, or mantles of the 
 gentlemen he painted, nor with the head -gear or 
 kirtles of the ladies; neither did Velasquez; and 
 their portraits are, therefore, curious records of 
 fashions, picturesque, and sometimes fantastic in 
 the extreme, yet always treated with admirable Art ; 
 and I confess I prefer those of Sir Joshua's portraits 
 in which he has faithfully adhered to the dress of 
 the sitter; which is always characteristic, and often 
 highly so. The manner in which Queen Elizabeth 
 covered herself with jewels, and the splendour 
 with which Raleigh decorated his person, pertain to 
 biography. 
 
 In some of Vandyke's portraits, no change is made 
 in the dress ; while in many (I believe the most), that 
 which is stiff and formal is loosened, and alterations 
 are introduced that we are only aware of when we 
 compare his pictures with exact representations, by 
 other artists, of the costume of the time. Such devia- 
 
298 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 tions from matter of fact were carried much farther 
 by Lely and Kneller, particularly in their portraits of 
 ladies ; and the first adopted an elegant, but impos- 
 sible, undress, that assists the voluptuous expression 
 which he aimed at, either to please a dissolute Court, 
 or because it pleased himself ; possibly for both 
 reasons. 
 
 With Kneller, however, the ideal style of the dress 
 does not affect the prevailing character he gave to the 
 beauties he painted, who seem a higher order of beings 
 than the ladies of Lely. Among the attractions of the 
 latter the expression of strict virtue is by no means 
 conspicuous, while it would seem profane to doubt 
 the purity of the high-born dames of Kneller. Though, 
 as a painter, not to be compared to Lely, his women 
 seem secured from moral degradation by an ever- 
 present consciousness of noble birth, which sits well 
 on them ; and though their demeanour is as studied 
 as the grace of a minuet, it does not offend like 
 vulgar affectation. Fielding, the natural Fielding, 
 greatly admired the stately beauties of Kneller, at 
 Hampton Court, and compared Sophia Western to 
 one of them. Conscious that, "when unadorned, 
 adorned the most," they reject the aid of jewellery, 
 and are content with only so much assistance from 
 Art, as they receive from well-arranged draperies. 
 
 The great fault of Lely is the family likeness, 
 closer than that of sisters, which forbids our relying on 
 his pictures as portraits ; and this unpardonable fault 
 is carried even farther by Kneller, whose ladies are 
 all cast in one mould of feature and form, and all 
 alike tall to a degree rare in Nature. 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 299 
 
 Reynolds adopted something from both which he 
 used to advantage; but he did far more, — he re- 
 covered portrait from all the mannerism that had 
 accumulated on it, from the death of Vandyke to his 
 own time, and restored it to truth. 
 
 When we compare his style with that of his master, 
 Hudson, we are struck with its vast superiority, its 
 wide difference, not merely in degree, but in kind; 
 and in this it would appear to form an exception to 
 what has generally been the case — namely, that the 
 style of every extraordinary genius is but a great im- 
 provement on that of the school in which he was 
 reared. But it was not from Hudson, nor from his 
 visit to Italy, that the Art of Reynolds was formed. 
 The seed that was to produce fruit, so excellent and 
 abundant, was sown before he quitted Devonshire. 
 He there saw, and probably among the first pictures 
 he ever saw, the works of a painter wholly unknown 
 in the metropolis. "This painter,'' Northcote tells 
 us, "was William Gandy of Exeter, whom," he says, 
 "I cannot but consider as an early master of Rey- 
 nolds. He told me himself that he had seen portraits 
 by Gandy equal to those of Rembrandt ; one in par- 
 ticular of an alderman of Exeter, which is placed in 
 a public building in that city. I have also heard 
 him repeat some observations of Gandy's, which had 
 been mentioned to him, and that he approved of ; 
 one in particular was, that a picture ought to have a 
 richness in its texture, as if the colours had been 
 composed of cream or cheese, and the reverse of a 
 hard and husky or dry manner." Now a single 
 precept like this falling into an ear fitted to receive 
 
300 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 it, is sufficient to create a style; while, upon the 
 inapt, all the best instruction that can be given is 
 wasted. 
 
 I have seen a portrait by Gandy, which I should 
 have mistaken for an early work of Reynolds ; and 
 this, with what Northcote tells us, is enough to estab- 
 lish, in my mind. Gaudy's claim to the honour of 
 being the first instructor of a great genius whom he 
 never saw. Gaudy's father was a pupil of Vandyke ; 
 and being patronised by the Duke of Ormond, and 
 retained in his service in Ireland, his works were as 
 little known in London as those of his son, who 
 practised only in Devonshire. Thus, while the style 
 of Vandyke degenerated through the hands of his 
 successors in the capital, till it was totally lost in the 
 beginning of the eighteenth century, some of its best 
 qualities were preserved in remote parts of the king- 
 dom, to lead to a splendid revival of portraiture ; so 
 true it is that however obscured from sight, at times, 
 some of the links in the chain of Art may be, still it 
 is a chain never wholly broken. 
 
 Nothing can be farther from my intention than to 
 lessen the fame of Reynolds. What I have stated 
 merely shows what indeed we might be certain of 
 without a knowledge of the facts — namely, that the 
 birth of his art was not miraculous. Praise enough 
 is still left for him ; for that which he derived from 
 Gandy was but the medium of his own fascinating 
 conceptions of Nature. "There is a charm," says 
 Northcote, " in his portraits, a mingled softness and 
 force, a grasping at the end with nothing harsh or 
 unpleasant in the means, that you will find nowhere 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 301 
 
 else. He may go out of fashion for a time, but you 
 must come back to him again, while a thousand 
 imitators and academic triflers are forgotten.'' 
 
 In looking over prints from his works, we are 
 astonished at the many attitudes and incidents we 
 find new to Art, and yet often such as from their 
 very familiarity in life have been overlooked by other 
 painters. The three Ladies Waldegrave, one winding 
 silk from the hands, of another, while the third is 
 bending over a drawing, Mrs. Abington leaning on the 
 back of her chair, and Lady Fenoulhet with her 
 hands in a muff, for instance; and then the many 
 exquisitely natural groupings of mothers and children, 
 and of children with children ; how greatly superior 
 in interest are such conceptions, fresh from Nature, 
 to some of his inventions, — as of ladies sacrificing to 
 the Graces, or decorating a statue of Hymen, of 
 which indeed he made fine pictures (for that he 
 could not help), but pictures the impression of which 
 is comparatively languid. 
 
 In the collected works of no other portrait-painter 
 do we find so great a diversity of individual character 
 illustrated by so great a variety of natural incident, 
 or aided by such various and well-chosen effects of 
 light and shadow ; many entirely new to Art, as (for 
 instance) the partial shadows thrown by branches of 
 trees over whole-length figures. Indeed, by no other 
 painter, except Gainsborough, has landscape been so 
 beautifully or effectively brought in aid of portrait. 
 Vandyke generally subdues its brightness to give 
 supremacy to the head, and Lely and Kneller did 
 this still more; but Reynolds, without lessening its 
 
302 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 power, always contrived it so as to relieve the face 
 most effectively. 
 
 We may learn nearly everything relating to por- 
 trait from Reynolds. Those deviations from the exact 
 correspondence of the sides of the face which are so 
 common in Nature are never corrected by him, as 
 they sometimes are by inferior artists under the notion 
 of improving the drawing. He felt that a marked 
 difference in the lines surrounding the eyes often 
 greatly aids the expression of the face. He took 
 advantage of this in painting the fixed despair of 
 Ugolino, no doubt finding it in the model ; and in a 
 very different head, his front face of Garrick, he has, 
 by observing the difference of the eyes, given great 
 archness of expression, and assisted its intelligence 
 without making the face less handsome. 
 
 It has been said, and I believe it, that no painter 
 can put more sense into a head than he possesses 
 himself, and it must have been rare for Reynolds to 
 meet with an intellect superior to his own. Had we 
 no other evidence, that of Goldsmith, who knew him 
 well, was a close observer, and no flatterer, would be 
 conclusive : — 
 
 " Here Reynolds is laid, and, to tell you my mind, 
 He has not left a wiser or better behind." 
 
 But his portraits were not always so satisfactory to 
 his sitters as the works of inferior painters. The 
 truth is, sitters are no judges of their own likenesses, 
 and in their immediate family circle the best judges 
 are not always to be found. Lord Thurlow said, 
 " There are two factions, the Reynolds faction and the 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 303 
 
 Romney faction. I am of the Romney faction." Now 
 in Romney's whole-length the Chancellor appeared a 
 more handsome man than in the half-length of Rey- 
 nolds. Romney avoided all indication of the sup- 
 pressed temper that was so apt to explode in violent 
 paroxysms, and this rendered his picture more ac- 
 ceptable to the original. But he missed what Rey- 
 nolds alone could give — that extraordinary sapience 
 which made Charles Fox say, " No man could be so 
 wise as Lord Thurlow looked." 
 
 That the portraits of Reynolds were the best of 
 all likenesses, I have no manner of doubt. I know 
 several of his pictures of children, the originals of 
 whom I have seen in middle and old age, and in 
 every instance I could discover much likeness. He 
 painted Lord Melbourne when a boy, and with that 
 genuine laugh that was so characteristic of the future 
 Prime Minister at every period of his life ; and no 
 likeness between a child and a man of sixty (an age 
 at which I remember Lord Melbourne) was ever more 
 striking. Lord Melbourne recollected that Sir Joshua 
 bribed him to sit, by giving him a ride on his foot, 
 and said, " If you behave well you shall have another 
 ride." 
 
 His fondness of children is recorded on all his can- 
 vases in which they appear. A matchless picture of 
 Miss Bowls, a beautiful laughing child caressing a dog, 
 was sold a few years ago at auction, and cheaply, at a 
 thousand guineas. The father and mother of the little 
 girl intended she should sit to Romney, who, at one 
 time, more than divided the town with Reynolds. Sir 
 George Beaumont, however, advised them to employ 
 
304 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 Sir Joshua. ''But his pictures fade." "No matter, 
 take the chance ; even a faded picture by Reynolds 
 will be the finest thing you can have. Ask him to 
 dine with you ; and let him become acquainted with 
 her." The advice was taken ; the little girl was placed 
 beside Sir Joshua at the table, where he amused her 
 so much with tricks and stories that she thought him 
 the most charming man in the world, and the next 
 day was delighted to be taken to his house, where she 
 sat down with a face full of glee, the expression of 
 which he caught at once and never lost ; and the affair 
 turned out every way happily, for the picture did not 
 fade, and has, till now, escaped alike the inflictions of 
 time or of the ignorant among cleaners. 
 
 Doubts have been expressed of the sincerity of Sir 
 Joshua's great admiration of Michael Angelo. Had 
 he, on his return from Italy, undertaken to decorate a 
 church (supposing an opportunity) with imitations of 
 the Sistine ceiling, I should doubt his appreciation 
 of the great works that cover it. But a painter may 
 sincerely admire Art very different from his own ; and 
 I rest my belief of his full appreciation of Michael 
 Angelo, less on his "Tragic Muse" (Mrs. Siddons), 
 or his "Ugolino," both of which we may in some 
 degree trace among the conceptions in the Sistine 
 Chapel, than to that general greatness and grace of 
 style stamped on all his works. " Reynolds," — says 
 Sterne, " great and graceful as he paints ; nor could 
 his Art be so well characterised by any other two 
 words. 
 
 It has been more than once intimated that Reynolds 
 cared for no other artist's success. But if this were 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 305 
 
 the case, why did he take the trouble to write and 
 deliver his discourses ? in which he did not fail to give 
 all the instruction he could convey, by words, in his 
 own branch of the Art, as well as in those which he 
 considered higher. He was daily accessible to all 
 young artists who sought his advice, and readily lent 
 them the finest of his own works ; but in doing this 
 he always said to the portrait -painter, " It will be 
 better for you to study Vandyke.'' It is clear that, 
 though he felt his own superiority among his con- 
 temporaries, he had a belief that British Art was 
 advancing, and that he should be surpassed by future 
 painters ; like the belief in which Shakspeare supposes 
 an ideal mistress to say of himself, — 
 
 ** But since he died, and poets better prove," 
 
 for Reynolds, like all men of the loftiest minds, was 
 modest. Mrs. Bray, in her " Life of Stothard," says, 
 with great truth, of the modesty of such men, that it 
 "is not at all inconsistent with that strong internal 
 conviction, which every man of real merit possesses, 
 respecting his own order of capacity. He feels that 
 Nature has given him a stand on higher ground than 
 most of his contemporaries; but he does not look 
 down on them, but above himself. What he does is 
 great, but he still feels that greatness has a spirit 
 which is ever mounting — that rests on no summit 
 within mortal view, but soars again and again in 
 search of an ideal height on which to pause and fold 
 its wings." 
 
 Gainsborough was the most formidable rival of 
 Reynolds. Whether he felt it hopeless to make use 
 
 X 
 
3o6 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 of Sir Joshua's weapons, or whether his peculiar taste 
 led him to the choice of other means, he adopted a 
 system of chiaroscuro, of more frequent occurrence 
 in Nature than those extremes of light and dark 
 which Reynolds managed with such consummate 
 judgment. His range in portrait was more limited, 
 but within that range he is at times so delightful that 
 we should not feel inclined to exchange a head by 
 him for a head of the same person by Sir Joshua. 
 His men are as thoroughly gentlemen, and his women 
 as entirely ladies, nor had Reynolds a truer feeling of 
 the charms of infancy. Indeed his cottage children 
 are more interesting because more natural than the 
 
 Robinettas " and "Muscipulas" of his illustrious 
 rival, the only class of pictures by Reynolds in which 
 mannerism in expression and attitude obtrudes itself 
 in the place of what is natural. Gainsborough's 
 barefoot child on her way to the well, with her little 
 dog under her arm, is unequalled by anything of the 
 kind in the world. I recollect it at the British 
 Gallery, forming part of a very noble assemblage of 
 pictures, and I could scarcely look at or think of 
 anything else in the rooms. This inimitable work is 
 a portrait, and not of a peasant child, but of a young 
 lady, who appears also in his picture of the girl and 
 pigs, which Sir Joshua purchased. 
 
 That Reynolds and Gainsborough were not on 
 terms of friendship seems to have been the fault of 
 the latter, v.ho, with all his excellent qualities, had 
 not so equal a temper as Sir Joshua. Reynolds did 
 not, as Allan Cunningham intimates, wait till the 
 death of Gainsborough to do justice to his genius. 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 307 
 
 The brief allusion to their last interview in his four- 
 teenth discourse, which is as modest as it is touching, 
 proves that he had not done so ; and it seems clear 
 that Sir Joshua would have told much more had it 
 not been to his own honour, and that he has only 
 said what he felt necessary for the removal of any 
 charge of injustice on his part. 
 
 The powers of Gainsborough, in portrait, may be 
 well estimated by that charming picture in the 
 Dulwich Gallery, of "Mrs. Sheridan and Mrs. 
 Tickell \ " and the whole-lengths at Hampton Court, 
 of "Colonel St. Leger," and "Fisher the Composer." 
 
 A painter may have great ability, and yet be in- 
 ferior to those of whom I have spoken. Sir Thomas 
 Lawrence was perhaps hindered from rising to the 
 highest rank as a colourist by his early and first 
 practice of making portraits in colourless chalk only. 
 His wish to please the sitter made him yield more 
 than his EngHsh predecessors had done to the foolish 
 desire of most people to be painted with a smile : 
 though he was far from extending this indulgence to 
 that extreme of a self-satisfied simper that the French 
 painters of the age preceding his had introduced to 
 portrait. Of indefatigable industry, Lawrence's habit 
 of undertaking too many pictures at the same time 
 was a serious drawback, in many cases, to their 
 excellence. He began the portraits of children which 
 he did not finish till they were grown up, and of 
 gentlemen and ladies while their hair was of its first 
 colour, but which remained incomplete in his rooms 
 till the originals were gray. The most beautiful of 
 his female heads, and beautiful it is, is the one he 
 
3o8 
 
 ON PORTRAIT 
 
 painted of Lady Elizabeth Leveson Gower (afterwards 
 Marchioness of Westminster). This was begun and 
 finished off-hand ; and so was the best male head he 
 ever painted, his first portrait of Mr. West, not the 
 whole-length in the National Gallery, in which he has 
 much exaggerated the stature of the original. He 
 took especial delight in painting the venerable and 
 amiable President, who offered a remarkable instance 
 of what has been described in another section, the 
 increase of beauty in old age, and of whom this por- 
 trait is a work of great excellence. 
 
 Without any of those peculiar blandishments of 
 manner, either as a painter or a man, that contributed 
 to make Lawrence the most popular portrait-painter of 
 his time, Jackson was more of an artist ; much truer 
 in colour, and, indeed, in this respect approaching to 
 Reynolds, whose pictures he sometimes copied so 
 closely as to deceive even Northcote. When his sitters 
 were ordinary people, his portraits were often ordinary 
 works; but when they were notable persons, he 
 exerted all his powers. The portrait he painted of 
 Canova, for Chantrey, is in all respects superior to 
 that which Lawrence painted of the great sculptor ; 
 more natural, more manly, and much finer in effect. 
 His heads of Sir John Franklin (painted for Mr. 
 Murray), of Flaxman, of Stothard, and of Liston, are 
 all admirably characteristic, and among the finest 
 portraits of the British school; and I remember 
 seeing at Castle Howard his half-length of Northcote 
 hanging in company with Vandyke's half-length of 
 Snyders, and a magnificent head of a Jew Rabbi, by 
 Rembrandt, and well sustaining so trying a position. 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 309 
 
 Perfectly amiable in his nature, nothing pleased Jack- 
 son more than opportunities of recommending young 
 painters of merit to patronage ; and he introduced 
 Wilkie and Haydon to Lord Mulgrave and Sir George 
 Beaumont. With strong natural sense, playful in his 
 manner, and with a true relish of humour, Jackson 
 was a great favourite with all who had the happiness 
 to know him, and his loss, by an early death, was 
 irreparable to his friends, and a very great one to Art. 
 
 The many advantages in many ways, resulting 
 from Photography, are yet but imperfectly appre- 
 ciated; for its improvements have followed each 
 other so rapidly, that we cannot but expect many 
 more, and are quite in the dark as to what may be 
 its next wonder. In its present state it confirms 
 what has always been felt by the best artists and the 
 best critics, that facsimile is not that species of re- 
 semblance to Nature, even in a portrait, that is most 
 agreeable : for while the best calotypes remind us of 
 mezzotint engravings from Velasquez, Rembrandt, or 
 Reynolds, they are still inferior in general effect to 
 such engravings : and they thus help to show that 
 the ideal is equally a principle of portrait-painting as 
 of all other Art ; and that not only does this consist 
 in the best view of the face, the best light and 
 shadow, and the most characteristic attitude of the 
 figure, for all these may be selected for a photo- 
 graphic picture, but that the ideal of a portrait, like 
 the ideal of all Art, depends on something which can 
 only be communicated by the mind, through the 
 hand and eye, and without any other mechanical 
 intervention than that of the pencil. Photography 
 
 X2 
 
ON PORTRAIT 
 
 may tend to relax the industry of inferior painters, 
 but it may be hoped and reasonably expected that it 
 will stimulate the exertions of the best; for much 
 may be learnt from it if used as a means of becoming 
 better acquainted with the beauties of Nature, but 
 nothing if resorted to only as a substitute for labour. 
 I have alluded to its value in enabling artists to 
 possess facsimiles of expensive engravings. 
 
CONCLUSION 
 
 In taking leave of the reader, and supposing that I 
 am addressing a young painter, I have a few more 
 things to say, in the way of counsel. 
 
 When you begin to tire of your work, leave off; 
 otherwise you will probably injure it — you will 
 certainly injure yourself. I think it was Reynolds 
 who said, " Do not be seen out of your painting-room 
 in the daytime." But there is as much to be learned 
 in our walks, as in our houses, and more health to be 
 gained. Reynolds lost his sight and shortened his 
 days by over-confinement, while Stothard preserved 
 his health and lengthened his life by daily walks. To 
 those who are ready to take advantage of any excuse 
 for quitting their work, neither this nor anything I 
 have to say is addressed. But I imagine you to be 
 one whose eyes are always and everywhere employed ; 
 one on whom nothing that offers itself to notice is 
 ever lost ; one with whom the study of all Nature and 
 of all Art is a labour of love ; — and if you are not 
 such a one, give up all thoughts of becoming a 
 painter. "He," says Mr. Ruskin, "draws nothing 
 well who thirsts not to draw everything." 
 
 Never destroy your designs, or your sketches from 
 Nature. Though you may (at the moment) be dis- 
 
312 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 satisfied, a time will come when you will see them 
 with other eyes, and discover how they may be turned 
 to good account. With respect to your sketches, 
 whether they be from Nature or designs for pictures, 
 you will often find in them beauties that you cannot 
 imitate when you attempt to finish. The usual reason 
 given for the attractiveness of a sketch is, that the 
 imagination fills it up more satisfactorily than the 
 pencil ever can. There is something in this, but it 
 is far from accounting for all the pleasure w^e derive 
 from masterly sketches. Facility and ease of execu- 
 tion are, in themselves, attractive, but these are lesser 
 matters; there is often 2ione-ness of effect, and a beauty 
 and truth of colour, in a sketch, that are apt to be 
 lost in the elaboration and timidity of finish ; — and 
 indeed I have noticed that the sketches of some 
 painters have always more of true finish than their 
 pictures, because they have more of those essentials 
 to finish, unity and breadth. A student, to whom Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds showed a fine picture by Poussin, 
 pointed to a part that he thought bad. " No," said 
 the President, "if it had been better, it had been 
 worse." This seemed to the young man paradoxical ; 
 but I have no doubt Reynolds was right, and knew 
 that what appeared desirable to the questioner (in all 
 probability more of what he considered finish) would 
 injure the picture. 
 
 It is not the length of time spent in study that is to 
 make a painter of you, but how you spend that time. 
 Try to keep in mind the greatest things, and secure 
 these first. Some young painters waste that time in 
 the study of costume that should be spent in the 
 
CONCLUSION 
 
 313 
 
 study of Nature. — But remember that incorrectness 
 in costume is not fatal, and, indeed, entire accuracy 
 in this is impossible of attainment, excepting in sub- 
 jects contemporary with the artist ; but incorrectness 
 of form, errors in perspective, and defective colour, 
 are the things for which you will deservedly be brought 
 to strict account. Haydon tells us that he resumed 
 the study of the Greek language with the notion that 
 it would enable him to paint the better from Homer. 
 But he had the sense to discover that a sacrifice of 
 time was too great, which, though it might possibly 
 have made his pictures more Homeric, would cer- 
 tainly have made them less excellent in the qualities 
 of Art, which he must have neglected, while engaged 
 in the study of a language, Fuseli, it is true, was a 
 scholar, and a good one, as well as a great painter. 
 But his father and his earliest associates were literary 
 men; and he was destined for the Church, sent to 
 college, took orders, and preached, before he became 
 a painter, though he had always wished to be one. 
 Possibly he might have attained many of the things 
 which (as an artist) he lacked, had he engaged in 
 the profession sooner ; — but, at any rate, his literary 
 studies never interfered with his prosecution of Art, 
 after he had determined on quitting the Church. 
 
 It is the happiness of a genuine painter that he is 
 all his life a student. If the education of such a one 
 could ever be finished, his Art would become little 
 else than a mechanical routine exercise of the pencil, 
 and he would sink into that large class who are dex- 
 terous in everything, and great in nothing. You 
 may, by attending to all the common rules, become 
 
314 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 one of this class, and you may also (in this class) 
 grow richer than you have the chance of becoming 
 while your mind is fixed on that high standard of 
 excellence that the few only have reached. Make 
 your election. But, if you have genius, it was made 
 unconsciously in favour of the highest possible excel- 
 lence, when you first gave up your mind to Painting, 
 a time of life, perhaps, as early as your earliest recol- 
 lections. 
 
 But though the education of a true painter is 
 always going on, there is a time when he may 
 be said to have taken a degree in Art. Do not 
 before that time leave England, — do not leave 
 London, where all the best British artists have 
 received the most valuable portion of their education. 
 London contains every means that can assist the 
 development of a painter's powers in whatever class 
 of subjects he may be formed to excel ; and as I have 
 said in another page, an artist is always the better for 
 being national. Travel as much as you please when 
 you can call yourself a painter, for the more know- 
 ledge you take with you, doubly and trebly the more 
 will you bring back. But remember that it is with 
 the mind as with the body — both may be injured 
 by too much food, and the health and strength of 
 both are only promoted by moderate quantities, well 
 digested. 
 
 Beware of over-fastidiousness. I have known 
 painters, of great delicacy of mind, in whom the diffi- 
 culty of pleasing themselves has at last become a 
 disease, that retarded, or prevented altogether, the 
 completion of really beautiful works. Never leave 
 
CONCLUSION 
 
 315 
 
 anything unaltered that you are tolerably sure of 
 improving; but the propensity to alter may be 
 indulged (if indeed it can be called an indulgence) 
 much too far. 
 
 And now to conclude the conclusion. I must beg 
 pardon of the reader if, as I fear, I have too often 
 repeated opinions that seem to me important. I have 
 reiterated passages, containing principles that I wished 
 should not by any chance escape the reader, and that 
 even if they had not escaped, should be again impressed 
 on him. I am not so vain as to connect the name 
 of Charles Fox with my own, excepting with reference 
 to what his friends considered a fault in his speeches, 
 a habit of repeating his sentences, and for which he 
 gave two reasons. "I do it," he said, "because I 
 may not have been heard, and because I may have 
 been heard." 
 
 P tinted by R. & R. Clark, Edinburgh,