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AN 
 
 ACCOUNT 
 
 OF A 
 
 Non Process* in Painting. 
 
 IN TWO PARTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 REMARKS ON ITS GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 WITH THE 
 
 PECULIARITIES OF THE VENETIAN SCHOOL. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 SUPPLEMENTARY DETAILS, EXPLANATORY OF THE PROCESS 
 
 WITH 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS ON THE ARTS OF 1HB 
 SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR F. C. & J. RIVINGTON, 
 
 NO. 62, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH-YARD, 
 
 AND NO. 3, WATERLOO-PLACE, PALL-MALL. 
 
 J821 
 
4©ntm» at £tationm’ &aU. 
 
 Printed by R. Gilbert, St. John’s Square, London 
 
TO THE 
 
 K I N G. 
 
 SIRE, 
 
 The Monarchy of England has 
 long been clouded in sadness. The ac- 
 cession of Your Majesty to the Throne 
 of this great Empire now cheers its 
 horizon with the brightest hopes. The 
 commencement of a new reign is at all 
 times favourable to the excitement of 
 National Genius ; and Your Majesty's 
 marked appreciation of all that can add 
 to the Grandeur or Happiness of Your 
 People, encourages the most brilliant 
 
sv 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 anticipations. The moment is too pre- 
 cious to be lost. Emboldened by the 
 known benignity of an enlightened and 
 accomplished Prince, I presume to ap- 
 proach the foot of the Throne, and, 
 with the most profound respect, humbly 
 to solicit, that Your Majesty will gra- 
 ciously extend your Royal Patronage to 
 that object which makes the subject of 
 this Memoir; an object which, if my 
 expectations be well founded, may ulti- 
 mately tend to restore to their former 
 splendour those Arts which now shed 
 an imperishable lustre over the reigns 
 in which they flourished. 
 
 May Y our Majesty’s reign be adorned 
 by all that can render it illustrious to 
 
DEDICATION, 
 
 V 
 
 posterity! May health and long life 
 enable You to accomplish every graci- 
 ous purpose! And may the cares of 
 government be repaid by the grateful 
 attachment of a loyal and religious 
 People, is the prayer of 
 
 Your Majesty’s 
 most devoted 
 
 and dutiful subject, 
 
 THE AUTHOR, 
 
 April , 1820 . 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2017 with funding from 
 Getty Research Institute 
 
 https://archive.org/details/accountofnewprocOOclea 
 
ACCOUNT 
 
 OF 
 
 A NEW PROCESS IN PAINTING. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 REMARKS ON ITS GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 3 
 
 WITH THE 
 
 PECULIARITIES OF THE VENETIAN SCHOOL. 
 

 • 'i v«. : 
 
 ■ • ! •> > A ■ » 
 
 ■ • M • f 
 
 "■ ' . : ' • v : ■; * 
 
 - 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
PREFACE* 
 
 The following pages (written in the 
 year 1814,) were originally designed to 
 accompany some specimens which I had 
 prepared for the private inspection of a 
 few individuals, whose knowledge and 
 attainments in the Art might enable 
 them to decide with some degree of 
 authority on the positive advantages to 
 be obtained from the adoption of this 
 process. The result was highly satis- 
 factory : all were agreed as to the close 
 resemblance to the tones and surface of 
 the Old Italian School, and very few 
 
 a 
 
X 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 retained any doubt of their being in 
 fact executed on similar principles.— 
 Here, however, the matter has rested 
 for upwards of six years. My object 
 was from the first national ; but the 
 suffrage of private individuals could do 
 nothing in furtherance of views of this 
 nature. It was from the Directors of 
 the British Institution that I looked for 
 that effective co-operation which alone 
 could secure any general or important 
 results. I conceived that enough had 
 been made known to entitle it at least 
 to some consideration ; and my expecta- 
 tions were, that a specimen executed by 
 some eminent artist would be called for. 
 This hope has been disappointed. It 
 is, however, yet possible; and in that 
 case I should be ready to meet such an 
 overture with all the requisite communi- 
 cations. 
 
PREFACE* 
 
 XI 
 
 After thus bringing the powers of the 
 process into full effect, I can scarcely 
 doubt that a very general impression 
 would be received corresponding with 
 my own. What further plans might 
 then be adopted, I cannot presume to 
 advise; but the best that has occurred 
 to me isjthis — that a Course of Lectures 
 should be given by some Professor at 
 the British Institution, or elsewhere, with 
 examples and experiments illustrative 
 of the theory and practice in all its 
 details, and to which I should have 
 much satisfaction in contributing every 
 assistance in my power. 
 
 April, 1820 . 
 
V . : • * V / 5 
 
 .• [ 
 
 ' 
 
 ' ' l 7 ' 
 
AN 
 
 ACCOUNT 
 
 A NEW PROCESS IN PAINTING. 
 
 The slight accident of spilling some 
 wax on a crayon drawing, sketched on 
 the back of a book hound in rough calf 
 leather*, first led me to engage in a train 
 of experiments, the result of which I now 
 offer to the attention of the public. On 
 attempting to scrape off the wax, a glaze 
 was produced, which exhibited the co- 
 louring with that peculiarity of texture 
 and surface which so generally distin- 
 guishes works of the old masters. It also 
 gave a depth and mellowness of tone 
 
 In the Year 1807. 
 
 B 
 
2 
 
 rarely to be found in modern paintings, 
 and served at once to show all the bril- 
 liant effects that might be obtained, if the 
 art of glazing crayons could be brought 
 to a regular process. It seemed, how- 
 ever, not absolutely impracticable; acci- 
 dental effects discover possibilities which 
 experiment may at last regulate into sys- 
 tem, and this possibility determined me 
 at least to make the attempt. 
 
 The effect I had witnessed made an 
 immediate but ineffaceable impression on 
 my mind, that the resemblance it bore to 
 the old masters was not merely casual or 
 incidental, but that it had, in fact, dis- 
 closed the real principle on which their 
 hitherto unrivalled excellence in colour- 
 ing was founded. Although the minute 
 modes of process might for ever elude re- 
 search, the principle, once ascertained. 
 
3 
 
 and rendered effective, would open new 
 paths to excellence, by which the high 
 standard of ancient art might again be 
 approached. The idea was irresistibly 
 attractive, and from that moment my 
 mind was intently directed to the accom- 
 plishment of this object. Without any 
 preconcerted plan, or knowledge to di- 
 rect me in the management and selection 
 of the materials I had to resort to, I pur- 
 sued it for a length of time, as a light in 
 the dark , and against difficulties and dis- 
 couragements that few, less sanguinely 
 impelled, could have withstood. After 
 devoting the entire leisure of the last 
 seven years to this undertaking, I have at 
 length succeeded in bringing to a regu- 
 lar process, a system of dry colouring *, 
 
 * I have adopted the term dry colouring as com- 
 prehending any mode of painting without a fluid 
 vehicle. 
 
 B 2 
 
4 
 
 which, besides its external resemblance 
 to the Venetian manner, bears such a 
 close correspondence with all that dis- 
 tinguishes this school from every other 
 known mode of painting, that I confess 
 it appears to me impossible entirely to 
 reject so many concurring analogies. 
 
 The pictures I venture to offer for in- 
 spection * are executed on this plan ; but 
 before they are critically examined, I 
 must entreat they may be viewed with 
 even more than the common indulgence 
 given to amateur performances ; and this 
 not from personal feeling, but the strong 
 impression I have of its future importance 
 creates an extreme solicitude, lest these 
 imperfect specimens should draw forth 
 
 * These specimens being wholly unfitted for pub- 
 lic view, are necessarily reserved for the private 
 inspection of artists and amateurs. 
 
5 
 
 any hasty judgment, before its powers 
 have been completely developed by the 
 more masterly hand of a professor. That 
 enviable freedom of touch which charac- 
 terises the Venetian school, this process 
 would almost gratuitously bestow, so far 
 at least as depends on the dry colouring ; 
 but combined as it ought to be with oil 
 painting I have found it very difficult to 
 execute any satisfactory specimen, having 
 from long habits of experiment almost 
 lost what little skill I formerly possessed 
 in the management of oil colours. If, 
 however, due allowance be made for these 
 deficiencies, the general resemblance to 
 the old masters is perhaps sufficiently 
 shewn to give a foresight of what may 
 be looked for hereafter, when abler pen- 
 cils are employed. A well executed copy 
 in dry colouring, from a picture of the 
 Venetian school, would, I feel assured. 
 
give such an exact imitation of their 
 manner, as might probably render it un- 
 necessary to look for further proof that 
 this was the basis of their system. It is 
 well known that the common mode of oil 
 painting never yet enabled a modern 
 artist to copy a Venetian master with 
 any success, and it may perhaps be re- 
 garded as absolutely impossible by any 
 process of fluid painting: there is a 
 fleshiness and a richness in the carna- 
 tions and draperies of their pictures, 
 which, I am led to believe, could only 
 be produced by dry colour. 
 
 I venture to say this from the particu- 
 lar opportunities I have had of marking 
 the distinctions in these two modes of 
 painting. Colour, when applied in a 
 fluid state, be the vehicle what it may, 
 oil, water, or size, will always tend to 
 
7 
 
 hardness and opacity; the colour and 
 the vehicle run into a smooth fluid mass ; 
 and whether it is painted thin or laid on 
 in a body, it completely coats its ground, 
 filling up all the breaks and interstices, 
 and presents to the eye a solid opaque 
 surface, like plaster or sheik — The par- 
 ticles of dry colour never perfectly col- 
 lapse, but leave the surface open and por- 
 ous, producing that species of roughness 
 which, in painting, gives the effect of 
 softness. This may be rendered more 
 intelligible by bringing in contrast the 
 light porous texture of a pumice stone, 
 and the coated surface of a painted wain- 
 scot. Fluid colour is also colder in its 
 hues than dry. 
 
 The external effects of fluid and dry 
 painting being thus contradistinguished 
 by hard and soft ; rough and smooth ; 
 
8 
 
 cold and warm ; it seems to follow of 
 course, that singly, neither the one nor 
 the other can be regarded as sufficiently 
 compendious to accomplish all the pur- 
 poses of art ; and that it is only from 
 their combined operations we may look 
 for a complete system of imitation. The 
 art of painting being founded on a just 
 imitation of the forms, colours, and sub- 
 stances of nature, essentially charac- 
 terised by different degrees of solidity, 
 warm and cold colours, acute lines, or 
 undefined contours, demands a system 
 variously and specifically adapted to the 
 representation of these opposite charac- 
 teristics. 
 
 It appears that the Venetian masters 
 employed both these modes of painting, 
 from which resulted that nice discrimina- 
 tion of nature which gives so much truth 
 
9 
 
 to their imitations. On examining their 
 pictures I have generally observed that 
 the flesh, draperies, sky, and ground, ap- 
 peared to be principally executed in dry 
 colour, and that buildings, foliage, the 
 sparkling lights of metals, gems, &c. ex- 
 hibited the more sharp and distinct touch 
 of the pencil. Oil colour is indeed so in- 
 compatible with the essential characteris- 
 tics of flesh, suppleness, and transpa- 
 rency, that the touch of the pencil is 
 rarely to be found in their carnations, 
 except as it may have been employed in 
 scumbling over the half tints, or where 
 bold and forcible markings were requi- 
 site to the general effect. 
 
 The appearance of the surface corres- 
 ponds with these surmises; where dry 
 colour may be presumed, it leaves the 
 surface quite level, (except where it is 
 
10 
 
 particularly charged in the embodied 
 lights) and without any outer coat or 
 skin ; but the oil colour, when freely im- 
 pasted, rises from the ground, and leaves 
 the handling distinguishable to the touch 
 by its sharp irregular projections. The 
 strong lights thus rising in actual relievo 
 from a retiring ground, usually prepared 
 of a very dark shade, contributed power- 
 fully to the force of their clair obscure ; 
 to which also the manner of rounding in 
 the dry colour, losing it by soft degrada- 
 tions in the obscurity of the ground, gave 
 a wonderful truth and harmony. Their 
 half tints appear to be produced by the 
 shade of the under colour, which not 
 being covered with an opaque superfice 
 (as in oil painting,) gives a shadowy 
 tinge to the diminishing colours ; a trans- 
 parent blueness, yet more delicate, was 
 lastly given by the operation of scumb- 
 
11 
 
 ling wherever the lights and shades 
 wanted union. 
 
 This gradual illumination of an ob- 
 scure ground gives the real principle of 
 the clair obscure, as it exists in nature. 
 The absence of light leaves the earth 
 like an undistinguishable plane of shade, 
 which its returning rays softly tints, and 
 gradually shapes out in all the varieties 
 of form and colour. By thus imitating 
 the simplicity of her operations, these 
 great masters seemed to reign over na- 
 ture. Each object rising from its ground 
 by the simple irradiation of its local co- 
 lour, appeared at once in perfect har- 
 mony, and with a richness and bril- 
 liancy impossible to be maintained where 
 tints of light and shade are wrought and 
 blended together. The opacity of oil 
 colour, and the necessity of blending 
 fluid painting, makes it ill adapted to 
 
12 
 
 such a system of light and shade ; but 
 dry colour always unites with its ground, 
 and when lightly touched always leaves 
 it in view. 
 
 The manner of Bassan offers the most 
 direct illustration of this system : his pre- 
 dilection for dark grounds is invariable, 
 and essential to his leading objects, spirit, 
 and effect. His dragged touches, freely 
 charged with colour, required a rough 
 absorbent ground, such as is left by dry 
 colour before it is glazed. Titian, re- 
 garding carnation as his primary object, 
 appears to have preferred grounds of a 
 warmer tint, rich brown, inclining to 
 yellow or red, which gave an extraor- 
 dinary sweetness and mellowness to his 
 tones. 
 
 Whether or not this should be the long- 
 sought mystery of Venetian colouring, 
 
13 
 
 may perhaps for ever remain a question 
 in dispute ; but the probability of the 
 fact is much increased by various inci- 
 dental analogies and resemblances, 
 which, though less obvious, are not less 
 precise. 
 
 Venetian pictures are found, upon 
 analysis, to have been incorporated by 
 an anomalous mixture of oils, glues, 
 water-gums, resins, &c. uniting the 
 whole into one homogeneous mass, not 
 separable from its ground, or liable to 
 crack, and extremely flexible ; some- 
 times however marked by irregularities, 
 which render these advantages precari- 
 ous, indicating a system open to varied 
 modifications, according as judgment or 
 necessity might direct * : while some 
 have resisted the most powerful solvents. 
 
 * Vide Sheldrake on Venetian painting. 
 
14 
 
 others will not endure even the mildest 
 process of picture cleaning. This more 
 imperfect class has been found to con- 
 sist of different layers of colour, easily 
 separable by specific solution, acting on 
 one without defacing or injuring the 
 other. 
 
 These peculiarities which have so 
 long excited attention, in every parti- 
 cular completely corresponds with all I 
 have had an opportunity of observing in 
 this process ; a correspondence however 
 which requires to be explained rather by 
 experiment than detail. The incorpo- 
 ration of the colour is effected by the 
 same irregular mixture of unctuous sub- 
 stances. The choice of binders is dis- 
 cretional, and any and all may be used 
 in one picture without exposing it to the 
 usual consequence of uncongenial mix- 
 tures, cracking or separating from its 
 
15 
 
 ground. A very different result would 
 follow were they successively used as 
 vehicles instead of hinders . I cannot 
 attempt to account for it on scientific 
 principles, but the fact has fallen under 
 my observation from a variety of experi- 
 ments, that a body of colour painted dry, 
 will, even when highly varnished, endure 
 a strong heat, without cracking, blister- 
 ing, or separating from its ground *. 
 
 The regular process renders the body 
 of colour “ capable of resisting the most 
 powerful solvents but if after it has 
 been firmly incorporated, retouchings 
 should be necessary, it is then marked 
 by all the uncertainties of imperfect Ve- 
 netian pictures, and will on dissolution 
 exhibit distinct layers of colour exactly 
 
 * I conjecture this may arise from the absence 
 of that skin or crust formed by the vehicle and the 
 finer particles of the colour in fluid painting. 
 
16 
 
 corresponding' with what has already 
 been described. 
 
 To account for this more clearly, it is 
 necessary first to explain how impossible 
 it would be to proceed with a crayon 
 painting after the surface has lost that 
 roughness necessary to imbibe and hold 
 a body of dry colour. This roughness 
 is lost when either it is saturated with 
 colour, or when a glaze is formed by ac- 
 cident or mismanagement ; there is then 
 no other resource but to finish the pic- 
 ture in oil, or to form a new surface of 
 some gritty substance that will leave the 
 under colour in view : an entire new 
 body of colour may thus be laid on, but 
 it will never thoroughly incorporate with 
 the first ground ; and the same complex 
 mixture of binders not being admissible 
 under these circumstances, it is in conse- 
 
17 
 
 quence much more delicate, yielding 
 easily to solvents that have no power 
 over the under colour. The specimen, 
 No. 10, will clearly exemplify this, having 
 entirely lost its last coat of colour in the 
 operation of cleaning. 
 
 That the Venetian painters occasion- 
 ally resorted to similar expedients, ap- 
 pears to me more than probable. There 
 may be observed sometimes a gritty dust, 
 like sand or pounded marble, sprinkled 
 over particular parts of their pictures. I 
 recollect one of Titian’s, in Lord Gros- 
 venor’s collection, where this appearance 
 was very conspicuous, and where evident 
 signs of retouching, which could alone 
 render it necessary, were also remark- 
 able. Vasari, and other writers on the 
 subject, repeatedly notice the extraordi- 
 nary attention they paid to the prepara- 
 
 c 
 
18 
 
 tion of their grounds, which they are said 
 to have considered of the highest import- 
 ance. Dry colouring would render all 
 this care necessary ; it would indeed be 
 fruitless to begin a picture on a defective 
 ground ; even in common crayon paint- 
 ing it is very desirable that the material 
 on which it is painted should receive the 
 colour freely, but where glazing is in- 
 tended, it is of tenfold importance. The 
 varnish rendering some colours transpa- 
 rent, and all in different degrees consi- 
 derably thinner in body, requires the co- 
 lour to be very freely charged, otherwise 
 it will not bear itself out with sufficient 
 effect against this diminution of volume ; 
 but to accomplish this requires the ground 
 to be of a peculiar texture, or prepared 
 with extreme care. 
 
 The superior lustre of their local co- 
 
19 
 
 lours continually strikes the eye; it has 
 led to the supposition that they were pos- 
 sessed of some secret preparations now 
 lost to the art. It seems, however, more 
 probable that the secret was not to be 
 found in the substances used, but in the 
 mode of using them. The fine glazing 
 colours which in oil painting the artist 
 principally relies upon for the brilliancy 
 of his local tints, will become thick and 
 turbid if attempted to be laid on in a 
 body. As, however, this defect does not 
 arise from any original quality in the co- 
 lour, but from the change it undergoes in 
 its admixture with the vehicle ; the ab- 
 sence of vehicle renders all these colours 
 equally adapted to the purposes of solid 
 painting, and when moulded into crayons 
 enable the artist to paint in his local co- 
 lours with that superior depth and bril- 
 liancy they are calculated to bestow, 
 c 2 
 
20 
 
 The bright ruby and emerald green of 
 Bassan, so long looked on with regret, 
 may, I trust, by this means soon be re- 
 stored to the art. 
 
 There are, however, some Venetian 
 pictures which appear to have been 
 painted simply in clair obscure, and the 
 local colours afterwards glazed in. The 
 absorbent colouring is favourable to the 
 reception of glazings, and the effect 
 pleasing and harmonious ; but for force 
 and depth of tone, their usual mode of 
 richly embodying their local colours is 
 far preferable. 
 
 As I have never had an opportunity of 
 examining any of the original memoirs 
 on this subject, 1 am uncertain whether 
 history may afford any further evidence 
 of a more decisive character; but it seems 
 
21 
 
 probable that hereafter there may be 
 noted many slight circumstances and in- 
 cidental remarks, which, when connected 
 with the system I have attempted to de- 
 velope, would give it powerful corrobora- 
 tion. The account given of the Bassans 
 is marked by a striking correspondence. 
 Their mode of practice is described as 
 being remarkable for expedition, facility, 
 and cheapness : so much so, that they 
 degraded the art into a mere trade. It 
 was their custom to purchase old clothes 
 of every description, table cloths, rem- 
 nants of old silk, cloth, &c. upon which 
 they painted their pictures, and in a few 
 weeks or a few days brought them to the 
 public market, selling them as common 
 goods, valued by a per-centage on the 
 original cost of the unwrought mate- 
 rials *. 
 
 * A practical knowledge of the process is neces- 
 sary to make this correspondence perfectly clear. 
 
22 
 
 In some memoirs relative to Titian, 
 the author mentions being in his paint- 
 ing-room while he was employed in 
 blending with his finger the soft carna- 
 tions of one of his figures, and describes 
 with much enthusiasm the magical effects 
 thus produced by this great artist. This 
 fact may now, I think, be admitted among 
 others, as a sort of collateral evidence 
 warranting the supposition that Titian 
 was actually rubbing in dry colour with 
 his finger, as is commonly practised by 
 crayon painters. It is true this mode of 
 softening is sometimes resorted to in oil 
 painting, but its opacity renders the effect 
 invariably heavy, and the rich manner in 
 which Titian’s carnations are varied and 
 broken — the fleshy softness, and transpa- 
 rency of his colouring — seems inconsistent 
 with any such mode of practice. 
 
 I have hitherto confined these observa- 
 
23 
 
 tions to the Venetian School, because it 
 presents the most obvious character of 
 dry colouring, and because their acknow- 
 ledged pre-eminence in this branch of 
 the art renders the practice of these mas- 
 ters the most important to be ascertained; 
 but I cannot dismiss the idea that it was, 
 more or less, the general practice of the 
 age, variously modified and combined 
 with the discoveries of Van Eyck. What 
 these discoveries were, is left in much 
 uncertainty. On the single authority of 
 Vasari he was long believed to have been 
 the original inventor of the art of paint- 
 ing with colours ground in oil , till Mr. 
 Raspe, in his essay on oil painting, and 
 Mr. Horace Walpole, by various docu- 
 ments, clearly proved it to have been an 
 art in common use among house painters, 
 and some artists in England and other 
 parts of Europe, as early as the 12th 
 
24 
 
 century ; a fact which entirely negatives 
 the account given by Vasari, as it has 
 hitherto been understood that this disco- 
 very was first made by Van Eyck in the 
 year 1410. It seems, however, indispu- 
 table that Van Eyck had made some very 
 important improvements in the art, which 
 caused great sensation among all his co- 
 temporary artists : some details, inter- 
 spersed in the lives of the painters, will 
 abundantly prove it, and before I venture 
 to pursue the conjectures that suggest 
 themselves, I shall present a few extracts 
 from the lives of those painters most im- 
 mediately connected with the first intro- 
 duction of oil painting into Italy. 
 
 In the life of Antonella da Messina is 
 the following account : “ Some of Van 
 “ Eyck’s pictures, exquisitely finished, 
 “ having been brought from Flanders 
 
25 
 
 “ to Alphonso, King of Naples, were 
 “ beheld with astonishment, and par- 
 “ ticularly by Antonella, who was so 
 “ strongly affected by the wonderful 
 “ effects produced by the new discovery, 
 “ that he immediately determined to 
 “ visit Flanders, and learn, if possible, 
 “ an art that appeared so extraordinary. 
 “ He went and recommended himself so 
 “ effectually to Van Eyck, by his affa- 
 “ bility and ingenuity, as well as by a 
 “ present of some fine Italian designs, 
 “ that Van Eyck unveiled to him the 
 “ whole mystery, and Antonella in a 
 “ short time became almost as eminent 
 “ as his instructor. From a principle 
 “ of gratitude he continued in Flanders 
 “ as long as Van Eyck lived, but after 
 “ his death Antonella settled at Venice, 
 “ where he painted several pictures in 
 “ oil that gained him general approba- 
 
26 
 
 “ tion. He communicated the secret to 
 
 a painter named Domenico, from 
 “ whom Andrea del Castagno after- 
 “ wards obtained the knowledge of it, 
 
 “ and from him the art of painting in 
 “ oil gradually became known and 
 “ practised through all Italy.” 
 
 Andrea del Castagno : “ He painted 
 “ on ly in distemper and fresco, with a 
 “ manner of colouring that was not 
 “ very agreeable, being rather dry and 
 “ hard, till he learned the secret of 
 “ painting in oil from Domenico Vene* 
 
 “ tiano, who had derived his knowledge 
 “ °f that new discovery from Antonella 
 “ da Messina. Andrea was the first of ’ 
 “ the Florentine artists who painted in 
 “ oil ; but though he was in the highest 
 “ degree indebted to Domenico for dis- 
 “ closing the secret, yet he secretly en- 
 
27 
 
 “ vied the merit of the man who taught 
 “ him the art ; and partly that he might 
 “ preserve the secret of painting in oil 
 “ from any other artists, and because he 
 ** observed the works of Domenico abun- 
 “ dantly more commended than his own, 
 “ he determined to assassinate his friend 
 “ and benefactor. He executed his de- 
 “ sign with the utmost ingratitude and 
 (C treachery (for Domenico at that time 
 tf lived with him, and painted in part- 
 (€ nership with him) : he assassinated 
 fi him at a corner of a street, so secretly, 
 “ that he escaped, unobserved and un- 
 suspected, to his own house, where he 
 u composedly sat down to work, and 
 thither Domenico was soon after con- 
 ft veyed, to die in the arms of his mur- 
 “ derer. The real author of so inhu- 
 “ man a transaction was never disco- 
 “ vered till Andrea, through remorse of 
 
28 
 
 “ conscience, disclosed it on his death- 
 “ bed. He finished several consider- 
 “ able works at Florence, by which he 
 “ gained great riches, and as great a 
 “ reputation ; but when his villainous 
 “ misconduct became public, his name 
 “ was ever after held in the utmost 
 “ detestation. His most celebrated work 
 “ is the execution of the conspirators 
 “ against the house of Medici .” 
 
 Giacopo Bellini : “ The secret of 
 “ painting in oil was communicated to 
 “ him by Domenico and Andrea del 
 “ Castagno; and this important disco- 
 “ very he explained to his sons Gentile 
 “ and Giovanni, who had sufficient skill 
 “ to apply it in such a manner as to 
 “ make them considerable in their time, 
 
 “ and memorable to posterity.” 
 
29 
 
 Gentile Bellini : “ He was the 
 
 “ eldest son of Giacopo Bellini, born at 
 “ Venice in 1421, and instructed by his 
 “ father in the art of painting in dis- 
 “ temper as well as oil.” 
 
 “ Giovanni Bellini was born at 
 “ Venice 1422, the son of Giacopo and 
 “ brother of Gentile ; but he surpassed 
 “ them both in every branch of the art, 
 u and is accounted the founder of the 
 “ Venetian School, by introducing the 
 “ practice of painting in oil, and teach- 
 “ ing his disciples to paint after nature. 
 “ Before he knew how to manage oil 
 “ colours, his painting appeared dry, but 
 “ afterwards he acquired more softness 
 “ in his pencilling, shewed a much 
 cc greater propriety of colours, and had 
 “ something of harmony ; though still 
 
30 
 
 “ he retained too much of what ap- 
 “ peared dry and hard.” 
 
 “ The school of Giovanni Bellini 
 “ produced two memorable disciples, 
 “ Titian and Giorgione, who brought 
 “ the art of colouring to its highest per- 
 “ fection ; and by observing the works 
 “ of those famous artists, Bellini im- 
 “ proved his own manner very consi- 
 “ derably ; so that in his latter pictures 
 “ the colouring is much better, and the 
 “ airs of his heads are noble, although 
 “ his design is a little gothic, and his 
 ** attitudes not well chosen 
 
 These details furnish the facts that 
 Van Eyck was the original inventor of 
 oil painting, and that from him it was 
 
 * Vide Pilkingtorfa Dictionary. 
 
31 
 
 transmitted, in direct descent, to the ce- 
 lebrated school of Venice. It also ap- 
 pears to have been a secret known only 
 to one or two individuals by successive 
 communication, w T hich, in order to make 
 exclusively his own, tempted Andrea del 
 Castagno to the cruel act of perfidy 
 above related : thus giving dreadful tes- 
 timony to its importance. How then 
 can we reconcile this to the authenti- 
 cated documents furnished by Mr. Raspe 
 and Mr. Horace Walpole, which prove 
 not only that it was not a secret, but that 
 it was an art very commonly practised 
 during the two preceding centuries, and 
 certainly not originating with Van Eyck. 
 Evidence so absolute, and yet so contra- 
 dictory, renders it impossible to come to 
 any satisfactory conclusion, if it relate 
 precisely to one and the same thing ; but 
 are we sure that Vasari, by the general 
 
32 
 
 term oil painting, meant to restrict its 
 application to the simple process of paint- 
 ing with colours ground in oil , as unques- 
 tionably is intended by Mr. Raspe, or did 
 he apply it indiscriminately to every mode 
 of painting where oil or oil colours were 
 used ? If so, may he not have been per- 
 fectly correct in ascribing to Van Eyck 
 the new discovery which in the language 
 of the day was certainly called oil paint- 
 ing, but which in all probability differed 
 essentially from the oil painting of the 
 present time. 
 
 It being notorious that the system 
 then in use was originally derived from 
 Van Eyck, Vasari might naturally sup- 
 pose him to have been the first and sole 
 inventor of it ; and knowing nothing 
 that could contradict this supposition, he 
 stated it as a fact, without giving the 
 
33 
 
 subject that careful examination so requi- 
 site in all historic details. 
 
 That he was not in full possession of 
 his subject appears evident, from the 
 striking inaccuracies observable in his 
 attempted explanation of Van Eyck’s 
 first discovery : he states, “ that John 
 “ Van Eyck, when he painted in dis- 
 “ temper, and had tried many experi- 
 “ ments of varnishes, having once taken 
 “ great pains in finishing a picture on 
 “ boards, varnished it, and put it to 
 “ dry in the sun as usual, but the heat 
 “ being too violent, or the boards too 
 “ carelessly joined or seasoned, he had 
 “ the mortification to see that his boards 
 “ split asunder : whereupon consider- 
 “ ing the damage he had suffered by 
 “ the sun, he thought of some means 
 “ to prevent such accidents for the fu- 
 D 
 
34 
 
 “ ture ; and tired and disgusted alike 
 “ with distemper painting and varnish- 
 “ ing, he endeavoured to make a var- 
 “ nish that would dry by itself, without 
 “ sunshine. After many trials of vari- 
 “ ous substances, pure or mixed, he 
 “ found at last that linseed and nut oil 
 “ dried better than any other. These, 
 “ therefore, he boiled with other mix- 
 “ tures, and thus he produced that var- 
 “ nish which he and other artists had 
 “ been desirous of so long. He tried 
 “ many other things, and observed that 
 “ the mixing the colours with these oils 
 “ gave them a great strength, and when 
 " dry they were proof against water, 
 “ and had a brightness and lustre of 
 “ their own without being in want of 
 any varnish : what he most won- 
 “ dered at was, that they united and 
 “ worked better than colours in dis- 
 
35 
 
 “ temper.” He adds, “ although such 
 “ paintings had that strong smell about 
 *< them which fresh oil colours produce, 
 “ and though for that reason it seemed 
 “ a very easy matter to find them out, 
 “ nevertheless it remained a secret dur- 
 “ ing many years 
 
 * Raspe, page 17. Van Mander repeats Vasari 
 with a few variations : according to his account, 
 
 John Van Eyck was so excellent a chymist that 
 “ he discovered a method of varnishing his dis- 
 “ temper colours with a varnish that was made of 
 “ some oils, which was very pleasing, on account of 
 “ the gloss and lustre it gave them. Many artists 
 “ of Italy had vainly attempted to find out that 
 “ secret, but they never hit on the true method. 
 “ It happened once that John, having, in his usual 
 “ manner, highly finished one of his pictures on 
 “ boards, and having varnished it with his new in- 
 ** vented varnish, exposed it to dry in the sun ; but 
 (i whether the boards were not well joined, or whe- 
 “ ther the sun was too violent, the boards split 
 “ asunder and opened in the junctures. John saw 
 “ with concern that his work was spoiled, and re- 
 “ solved to contrive something against future ac- 
 “ cidents of the same kind. Having been in that 
 
 D 2 
 
It is difficult to assign any precise 
 meaning to many passages in this very 
 confused detail ; we may however gather 
 
 “ manner disgusted with distemper painting and 
 “ varnishing, he thought of a varnish that might 
 “ dry without sun-shine ; and having tried many 
 “ oils and substances, he found that linseed and nut 
 “ oil dried better than any other. He boiled them 
 “ with some drugs, and produced the best varnish 
 “ in the world. Ever bent on improvement, he 
 “ found, after much enquiry, that colours mixed 
 “ with these oils worked and dried extremely well, 
 “ and when dry, would be water-proof. He ob- 
 “ served likewise, that these oils would animate 
 “ and give them a gloss and lustre without any 
 “ further varnishing.” 
 
 Again, speaking of Van Eyck’s picture sent to 
 Alfonso of Naples, he says, “ when it arrived, the 
 “ artists flocked together at Naples in the same 
 “ manner as at other places, every one desirous of 
 “ seeing this marvellous work ; and though the 
 “ Italians looked at it very sharply, and tried it with 
 “ the utmost attention, even putting their noses to 
 “ it, and clearly perceiving the strong smell which 
 “ it had from the mixture of the colours and the 
 “ oils, nevertheless it remained a secret to them.” 
 Vide Raspe, page 16 and 17. 
 
37 
 
 from it that the main object of Van 
 Eyck’s experiments was to find out some 
 method of varnishing his distemper and 
 water-colour paintings, and of giving 
 them greater durability. This latter ob- 
 ject he effectually accomplished by oil- 
 ing the surface of his picture, which, 
 when dry, and the oil completely ab- 
 sorbed, would prepare a water-colour 
 painting for any other operations of var- 
 nishing or re-touching with oil colour. 
 This is all we can collect of the dis- 
 covery Vasari professes to describe; but 
 such a mystery could not long have 
 eluded the curiosity it excited. If we 
 look to Van Eyck himself to assist con- 
 jecture, it is still very difficult to form 
 any decided opinion on the subject as 
 to the nature or extent of his discoveries. 
 His pictures though very brilliant are 
 
38 
 
 evidently not painted with that freedom 
 and vigour of touch that characterises 
 the Venetian school ; and all that we 
 can rest upon with certainty, is that his 
 discoveries laid the foundation for those 
 improvements which afterwards took 
 place in the different schools of Italy. 
 The early masters in oil colour are all 
 marked by the same excellencies and 
 defects — brilliancy of tone, with a dry 
 elaborate manner of design ; but in the 
 school of Bellini, and his celebrated dis- 
 ciples Titian and Giorgione, the mecha- 
 nism of art seemed at once to reach per- 
 fection. 
 
 The occasional use of chalks, or crude 
 colour in lumps, might possibly first sug- 
 gest to the artist the advantage of pre- 
 paring his colours in the form of pencils 
 
39 
 
 or crayons * ; but from whatever causes 
 it may have originated, it is to this im- 
 proved mechanism I cannot but ascribe 
 that immediate liberation of the art from 
 the littleness and poverty of the early 
 manner. This improved method is first 
 apparent in the works of Giorgione, 
 where, unlike the monotonous smooth- 
 ness of the early manner, we may ob- 
 
 # I suspect the practice of painting in crayons is 
 of very ancient date ; and it certainly may be traced 
 up to the 13th or 14th century. It is however sin- 
 gular that the historians of the art make no mention 
 or allusion to it, at least in terms now understood as 
 applicable to this particular process. I think it, 
 however, very possible that the vocabulary of art 
 may have varied in its usage, technical language 
 being always arbitrary and independent of literary 
 significations or derivations. The words pencil and 
 crayon are examples of this irregularity in the ap- 
 plication, and of an entire departure from there 
 original or ordinary signification. The French word 
 crayon means what in ordinary language we call a 
 pencil , but, technically speaking, the word pencil 
 means a painting brush. 
 
40 
 
 serve the traces of handling preserved in 
 rough and broken touches, and where 
 the colouring boldly embodied announces 
 at once the freedom of its execution. 
 
 The habit of sketching their studies 
 in colour is repeatedly noticed by Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds, as peculiar to the Ve- 
 netian school ; and, in his discourses, 
 recommended to the students, under the 
 idea that this practice was one of the 
 principal causes of their so far excelling 
 every other school in the art of colour- 
 ing. In oil painting the advantages of 
 such a practice are, however, counter- 
 balanced by many material inconveni- 
 ences ; but there is so little difference 
 between sketching , or painting with 
 coloured pencils, that it would be as 
 easy to make out the design at once in 
 colour, as to draw it with a pen or chalk 
 
41 
 
 pencil. I conceive, therefore the prac- 
 tice arose from the very construction of 
 their instruments, but which doubtless 
 would contribute to give that facility in 
 the management and arrangement of 
 colours for which they are so admirable. 
 The sketch had all the richness and 
 glow of the highest finish, and the co- 
 louring all the freedom of the slightest 
 sketch. It gave that fluency of style 
 which at once told the thought as it 
 rose in the painter’s mind, with all the 
 animation and charms of a ready elo- 
 quence. 
 
 The art of painting thus acquired new 
 facilities, which gave it considerable at- 
 traction to all cotemporary genius. The 
 power of embodying ideas was to be ob- 
 tained without the severe toil of slow 
 gradationary labour. A brilliant and 
 
42 
 
 fascinating style, sometimes approaching 
 to grandeur — always rich, beautiful, or 
 splendid, gave that excitement to kin- 
 dred powers, which impels to the exer- 
 cise of art. The magnificent patronage 
 of the Popes also added to its allure- 
 ments; and thus the collective genius 
 of the age received that peculiar direc- 
 tion to the cultivation of the arts, which 
 enriched Italy with the abundance of its 
 treasures, and has long rendered this dis- 
 tinguished period the wonder and admi- 
 ration of succeeding generations. 
 
 The decline of painting was rapid 
 and decisive ; the cause may be found 
 in comparing works of the 17th and 
 18th centuries, with the works of this 
 memorable period. They announce un- 
 equivocally the loss of that excellent 
 mechanism which established a pre-emi- 
 
43 
 
 nence that repressed even the hope of 
 rivalry, leaving the modern artist en- 
 gaged in a continual struggle against 
 difficulty and imperfection *. I cannot 
 however suppress the hope, that this lost 
 art may yet be recovered. Let those 
 who rule, accomplish the rest. Let na- 
 tional rewards call forth national genius ; 
 and then may we look with confidence 
 to the fulfilment of those anxious wishes 
 expressed by the late President, “ that 
 
 * Mr. Northcote, in his life of Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds, furnishes authority for this opinion ; he re- 
 lates, “ that he was accidentally repeating to Sir 
 “ Joshua some instructions in colouring he had 
 “ heard given by an eminent painter at the Royal 
 “ Academy; Sir Joshua replied, that this painter 
 “ was undoubtedly a very sensible man, but by no 
 “ means a good colourist, adding, that there was 
 “ not a man on earth who had the least notion of 
 “ colouring : we all of us, said he, have it equally to 
 “ seek and to find out, as at present it is totally 
 “ lost,’ > 
 
44 
 
 “ the present age may vie in Arts with 
 “ that of Leo the 10th, and that the 
 “ dignity of the dying Art may be re- 
 “ vived under the reign of George the 
 “ Fourth.” 
 
 * 
 
PART II. 
 
 SUPPLEMENTARY DETAILS, 
 
 EXPLANATORY OF 
 
 THE PROCESS ; 
 
 WITH 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS 
 
 ON THE 
 
 ARTS OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 
 

 
 
 
 
 N 
 
 W 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 - Ttf 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 SUPPLEMENT. 
 
 I have witli some difficulty attempted 
 to methodize into system, a process which 
 hitherto I have chiefly practised by de- 
 sultory and irregular experiments. My 
 anxiety to give the details the requisite 
 clearness has led me into frequent repe- 
 titions, that will I fear render them very 
 tedious to ordinary readers ; but my ob- 
 ject being simply to convey all the ne- 
 cessary information, as fully and dis- 
 tinctly as I could to those who might be 
 desirous of trying the effects : I must on 
 this rest my apology. 
 
48 
 
 It is, however, not to be expected, that 
 any written detail can at once put the 
 Artist in possession of a system that is 
 open to such a multiplicity of combina- 
 tions, and which certainly requires not 
 only good execution, but judgment and 
 experience to regulate its application. 
 
 I trust it is needless for me to explain 
 that the observations I have ventured to 
 make on the defects of modern art, have 
 no reference whatever to the talents of 
 its professors : they apply solely to the 
 defects of process. To speak of cotem- 
 poraries, even with praise, would be a 
 matter of great delicacy ; but this I will 
 say generally, that such is my faith in 
 the native energy of English character 
 and intellect ; that there is nothing with- 
 in the compass of human ability I should 
 not confidently look for, in any art, 
 
49 
 
 science, or excellence to which the na- 
 tional genius was fully and forcibly di- 
 rected ; if unobstructed by moral or phy- 
 sical impediments* 
 
 The disjointed form in which the work 
 appears, also calls for some apology. 
 This has arisen from the continual vari- 
 ation of circumstances, and the gra- 
 dually increasing interest excited by the 
 discovery, which at last induced me to 
 offer to the Public, what originally was 
 only intended to be privately circulated 
 among my friends, and to add to it such 
 explanations as may ultimately accom- 
 plish the main object I have in view, — 
 the promulgation and adoption of the 
 process. 
 
 I now offer it to the Public, in full 
 
 E 
 
50 
 
 confidence that the efforts of an indivi- 
 dual will not be left unaided by a co- 
 operating spirit of national feeling ; and 
 that the hope, (presumptuous as it may 
 appear,) which has for so many years 
 animated my exertions, will finally be 
 accomplished. 
 
 But if disappointed in these expecta- 
 tions, I shall have no cause to repine. I 
 never can repent an undertaking that 
 will still leave a large balance of plea- 
 sure in the years of interest and amuse- 
 ment it has afforded me ; and to borrow 
 the words of an admired writer, I may 
 truly say, that whatever may be the 
 fate or reception of this discovery, it will 
 owe its author nothing. In sickness or 
 in health, whether of body or mind, I 
 have found in these pursuits what can 
 
51 
 
 alone alleviate the one, or give enjoy- 
 ment to the other — occupation and en- 
 gagement. 
 
 June, 1821. 
 
 E 2 
 

 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 , 
 
 
DETAIL 
 
 OF 
 
 EXPERIMENTS. 
 
 I had in the preceding pages abstained 
 from entering on any detail of the pro- 
 cess, under an impression that until the 
 artist had acquired a little experience in 
 the management of it, much disappoint- 
 ment might occur, if attempted without 
 the aid of personal instruction ; but be- 
 ing advised that it would be more satis- 
 factory to have as much as possible laid 
 before the public, I shall endeavour to 
 retrace, as well as I can recall them to 
 my memory, the accidental circum- 
 stances and observations which led me 
 step by step to the accomplishment of 
 my object. 
 
54 
 
 In the year 1807 I went down into the 
 country, unprovided with any materials 
 for my then usual amusement — painting 
 in oil. I soon began to feel very sensi- 
 bly the want of this favorite occupation, 
 and recollecting a set of Swiss crayons I 
 had long thrown aside, I resorted to 
 them ; but here again I was unprovided, 
 having no blue drawing paper, such as 
 is used for crayon painting. 1 was con- 
 sidering what I could substitute, when 
 casting my eyes on an old memorandum 
 book, and observing the peculiar tex- 
 ture of the rough calf leather in which it 
 was bound, it appeared to me admira- 
 bly adapted to my purpose, and I in- 
 stantly began a coloured sketch on the 
 back of this book. 
 
 t t 
 
 rwii f i.} t ' ) f I * ' i . . . ^ . # . ... , % . j 
 
 The accidental selection of this mate- 
 rial was singularly propitious and fertile 
 
of suggestions. The rich brown shade 
 of the ground naturally led me to sketch 
 in the figure with lights and middle 
 tints only , leaving the ground for the 
 shadows. The effect was strikingly 
 pleasing and harmonious, and the ob- 
 servations to which it gave rise laid the 
 foundation for what I regard as one ot 
 the most important principles of this 
 process ; namely, to paint light upon 
 shade and only light. In fact, to imi- 
 tate nature as nature is made visible, 
 and paint like the sun , — a system ot 
 colouring which appears to me pecu- 
 liarly, if not exclusively applicable to 
 crayon painting, being, I should ima- 
 gine, almost impracticable in oil paint- 
 ing, where the gradations and union 
 of the tints render blending to a certain 
 degree indispensable. 
 
56 
 
 The rough calf leather imbibed the 
 colour with a degree of freedom and 
 strength I had never before seen in 
 crayon painting, which on the ordinary 
 plan has a meagre chalky effect, that 
 has long rendered it wholly unattrac- 
 tive to the higher rank of Artists. I 
 therefore no longer regretted the want 
 of drawing paper, and determined in 
 future to adopt some other material. 
 
 While meditating on these improve- 
 ments, by some accident which I can- 
 not recall to my mind, I spilt some wax 
 on the surface of the picture. I per- 
 fectly recollect that it fell on some red 
 drapery , which being, I conclude, paint- 
 ed with Vermillion, did not lose its body , 
 but was merely heightened in tone and 
 lustre. The impression instantaneously 
 
57 
 
 made on my mind, and the projects to 
 which it gave rise, I have already de- 
 scribed. 
 
 Without further deliberation, and with 
 a sort of childish eagerness, I immedi- 
 ately melted a quantity of bee’s wax 
 and poured it over the face of the pic- 
 ture — with what success may be easily 
 imagined. After spoiling by similar 
 expedients all the rough calf bindings 
 that fell in my way, I had to look out 
 for some new material to paint upon. 
 I tried canvass, linen, and cotton cloths. 
 The latter I found far preferable to linen, 
 which on account of the smoothness of 
 its thread does not imbibe the colour so 
 readily as cotton ; and from this time I 
 have adopted common calico, as a ground 
 the best adapted for general purposes; 
 
58 
 
 its cheapness also is a recommendation 
 for large sized pictures. 
 
 My next trials were upon black ca- 
 lico . The forcible effect of the lights on 
 this ground completely confirmed me in 
 my new system of light and shade. In- 
 stead of pouring wax fortuitously on the 
 surface, I was now enabled to apply 
 it at the back of the picture, and then 
 melt it into the body of colour by hold- 
 ing it to the fire ; but the oily quality 
 of the wax totally extinguished all the 
 light tints, leaving only a few patches 
 of reds and yellows visible. I then 
 tried various other binders, and at last 
 settled on gum arabick, or isinglass dis- 
 solved in water, which on applying to 
 the back of the picture fixed the crayons 
 perfectly without disturbing or altering 
 
59 
 
 the colour ; but finding, occasionally, 
 much inconvenience from a sort of 
 coarse woolliness of surface in the com- 
 mon calico, to give a better grain I 
 stiffened it with a little gum water be- 
 fore I began to paint, which finally 
 suggested the simple method I now 
 usually practice in the first stage of 
 the painting, of merely wetting the back 
 of the picture with water, which dis- 
 solving the gum fixes the crayons imme- 
 diately. 
 
 Here was one difficulty conquered, 
 but there remained another, which for 
 upwards of two years completely baffled 
 every attempt to overcome, namely, the 
 varnishing. Every picture I painted 
 was subjected to some new trial, and 
 invariably had the same fate. The mo- 
 ment I applied the varnish, the painting 
 
60 
 
 darkened and became nearly invisible, 
 I however remarked that certain colours, 
 such as vermillion, red lead, verditer, in 
 short, all the metallic oxydes retained 
 their full body and lustre, while the rest 
 were either darkened or totally extin- 
 guished. I endeavoured to ascertain the 
 cause of this difference, and at length 
 discovered that in the composition of 
 crayons, flake white is cautiously exclud- 
 ed, as it will infallibly turn black or grey 
 on exposure to the atmosphere, if un- 
 protected by oil or varnish ; and that 
 instead of this white, (the one invari- 
 ably used in oil painting,) the light 
 tints are mixed up with whites pre- 
 pared from calcareous earths, such as 
 plaster of Paris, chalk, or whiting. 
 
 The application of any oily or resin- 
 ous mixture to whiles of this descrip- 
 
6! 
 
 lion reduces them to a semi-transparent 
 substance, which renders them wholly 
 inapplicable to oil painting. The re- 
 medy was now obvious. My next 
 grand step was to get some crayons 
 prepared upon a plan better adapted 
 to my purpose, though it was with some 
 difficulty the colourman could be pre- 
 vailed upon to substitute flake white 
 in the mixture of the tints, he not being 
 aware that they were intended to be var- 
 nished *. 
 
 * While retracing these circumstances an idea 
 has occurred to me, which T think may assist to ex- 
 plain the mystery that yet hangs on Van Eyck’s 
 discovery. The facts we have before us in the 
 different accounts that have been given of this mat- 
 ter, shew that his first object was to varnish his dis- 
 temper paintings, in which he totally failed ; but 
 that afterwards he found out a method of varnish- 
 ing his pictures with oil. It is quite clear that 
 while he continued to employ the colours commonly 
 used in distemper success would be impossible, the 
 whites being similar to those used in the prepara- 
 
62 
 
 This change at last opened a certain 
 prospect of success. Still however many 
 defects remained to be remedied. The 
 colouring, though not destroyed, was 
 considerably lowered in tone, and re- 
 duced in body by the contractile effects 
 of the varnish on the particles of dry 
 colour. Being fixed with water binders 
 only, it remained perfectly absorbent and 
 took up too much varnish. To remedy 
 this inconvenience, before the varnish 
 was laid on I saturated the body of co- 
 lour with wax, in the manner before de- 
 scribed. The varnish was then better 
 sustained, and the colouring stood out 
 
 , , >0 nofii 
 
 tion of crayons, and for the same reason ; and when 
 at last he effected his purpose, his remedy must ne- 
 cessarily have been what I have above described, 
 namely, the substitution of metallic oxydes for the 
 calcareous earths ; this probably laid the foundation 
 for further improvements, and was finally applied by 
 the Venetian painters to crayon painting’. 
 
63 
 
 with a much stronger body. On further 
 experience, however, I found many in- 
 conveniences in the use of wax, which 
 determined me to substitute linseed oil. 
 This perfectly succeeded. After the pic- 
 ture had been oiled, it might be retouched 
 either with oil colour or crayons. If 
 with the latter, this second painting 
 stood out with far greater strength and 
 brightness than the first ; but to fix it as 
 had hitherto been done, at the back of 
 the picture, now became impracticable. 
 — When impregnated with oil it was no 
 longer penetrable; and the necessity of 
 fiuding out some method of fixing the 
 crayons on the surface, obliged me to 
 embark in further experiments. 
 
 It would be tedious to detail the vari- 
 ous expedients that occurred to me, ex- 
 cept what at last led to my object. Lay- 
 
64 
 
 \ 
 
 ing the picture on the ground I fre- 
 quently floated it with beer, isinglass, 
 gum-water, &c. which always disturbed 
 and defaced the colouring; but I re- 
 marked that isinglass dissolved in gin, or 
 weak solutions of resin in turpentine or 
 spirits of wine, did not disturb the colour 
 in the same degree. This observation 
 was not neglected, and at length I as- 
 certained that all proof spirits might, 
 by a little mechanical contrivance*, be 
 sprinkled on the surface without the least 
 hazard of disturbing the colour This 
 
 * A particular sort of brush which I had made up 
 for this purpose, and which enables me to fix the 
 picture with the most perfect accuracy. 
 
 f This peculiarity I imagine may arise from the 
 opposite tendencies of spirituous or aqueous fluids, 
 the one to fly off, the other to keep together or 
 conglobulate. The latter, therefore, lodge too long 
 on the surface, and consequently deface the colour- 
 ing ; but the fine subtle particles of spirituous fluids 
 immediately diffuse and mingle with the loose grains 
 of the dry colour. 
 
65 
 
 discovery was most invaluable, as it en- 
 abled me to fix in any stage of the 
 painting, either with water or varnish 
 binders. 
 
 In the progress of the work it fre- 
 quently happened that the surface lost 
 that rough imbibing texture necessary to 
 receive the touch of the crayon, owing 
 to the interstices of the ground being 
 choked up by colour or varnish ; hence 
 arose a necessity for some contrivance 
 that might artificially restore this sort 
 of touch. For this purpose I frequently 
 sifted pounded glass on the face of tiie 
 picture, or applied a piece of black 
 gauze * to any part I wished to re- 
 
 * Here is another analogy with Venetian paint- 
 ing. The late Mr. West once mentioned to me 
 (with reference to this subject) that pieces of gauze 
 
 P 
 
66 
 
 touch ; but afterwards remarking the 
 tenacious texture of flock paper, I ob- 
 tained some loose flock, as it is prepared 
 in powder for the paper manufacturers, 
 and sifting it on the face of the picture, 
 previously covered with a coat of oil 
 varnish, it formed a second ground , 
 that imbibed the colour with a degree 
 of strength and richness I had never 
 attained since my first accidental trial 
 on the rough calf leather. 
 
 Here ended all my difficulties. If 
 disappointed in the effect of the picture 
 after it was fully brought out by the 
 varnish, I could at all times retouch and 
 revive the colouring with increased bril- 
 liancy. It may, however, easily be con- 
 
 had frequently been found interposed between the 
 two surfaces of the first and last painting in Vene- 
 tian pictures. 
 
67 
 
 ceived that this last layer of colour is 
 much more liable to injury than the 
 first, which being interwoven with the 
 very threads of the cloth will never crack 
 or separate from its ground ; and from 
 the variety of binders admissible in the 
 early stage of the process, the colour is 
 so firmly incorporated as to resist the 
 most powerful solvents *. 
 
 Thus far I had invariably adhered to 
 my original system of painting on dark 
 grounds. The force and rapidity with 
 which the general effect was produced 
 rendered it highly attractive to me ; but 
 the low tone of a picture, painted on 
 this plan, does not generally please; I 
 therefore occasionally varied it by pre- 
 paring the ground of a middle tint, on 
 
 * See Part I. page Pi, 14 ? 15, 16. 
 
 F 2 
 
68 
 
 which I carefully designed the figures, 
 and shaded the picture to its full strength 
 with pure water colour, so as to leave 
 the whole subject indistinctly visible as 
 in a sort of twilight. Thus prepared, I 
 then lighted up the local colours with 
 the bright free touches of the crayon, 
 finally retouching the whole with oil 
 colour where the lights required more 
 force or sharpness, and afterwards scum- 
 bled or glazed, as the tone of colouring 
 required. 
 
 But, whether I set out on a dark or 
 a light ground, the principle on which 
 I proceeded was precisely the same, 
 namely, carefully to avoid all necessity 
 for shadowing , either with oil colour or 
 crayons ; for this reason that water 
 colour best represents the negative qua- 
 
69 
 
 lity of shade *. Nor did I allow myself 
 to introduce any shadows but what the 
 ground supplied. If I deviated from this 
 plan, the picture was infallibly put out 
 of harmony by the shades coming too 
 forward, and appearing, if I may so 
 express it, too embodied and tangible . 
 Another desirable circumstance is, that 
 the lights and shades being painted 
 separately, the local colours preserve 
 their full brilliancy and clearness, which 
 blending light with shade must inevit- 
 ably impair. 
 
 It will be obvious on the least con- 
 sideration, that such a system of clair 
 obscure is applicable only to dry colour- 
 ing ; that if attempted in oil colour the 
 lights would appear harsh and spotty, 
 
 * The difference between a painted cloth and a 
 dyed cloth will explain this distinction. 
 
70 
 
 from not being perfectly united with the 
 shades of the ground. With crayons it 
 is totally different; it is in fact scarcely 
 possible to put the picture out of har- 
 mony, so long as it is painted only with 
 crayons, and with tints lighter than the 
 ground . 
 
 The process now combined the 
 united powers and facilities of crayons, 
 water-colour, and oil painting. By 
 a judicious application of these varied 
 resources, a perfect imitation of all that 
 distinguishes the old from the modern 
 schools of painting will be found at- 
 tainable, and it is in this comprehen- 
 sive form I recommend the process to 
 be practically adopted, not as has been 
 erroneously imagined by any single pro- 
 cess of crayon painting. 
 
71 
 
 Having given this general outline of 
 the origin and progress of these experi- 
 ments, I will now endeavour to detail 
 with more precision some of the prac- 
 tical operations of the process. 
 

 
 • 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 » > ' ■ . j ✓ 
 
 i . ' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
OF BINDERS. 
 
 Mucilages and unctuous substances of 
 every description are admissible in this 
 process, provided they are good driers 
 and not liable to crack. 
 
 As they are acted upon by different 
 solvents, I shall class them under two 
 general heads, namely, varnish or oil 
 binders, and water binders. 
 
 OF VARNISH BINDERS. 
 
 These are such as resist the action of 
 aqueous fluids, but are soluble either in 
 
74 
 
 spirits of wine, turpentine, or oil, and will 
 melt if exposed to strong heat. 
 
 Gum Sandarac — Dissolves in spirits 
 of wine ; does not dissolve in turpentine 
 or oil. Is of a very dry nature. 
 
 Gum Mastic — Dissolves in spirits of 
 wine, but more readily in turpentine. Is 
 not so good a drier as gum Sandarac. 
 
 Shell Lac and Seed Lac — Dissolve in 
 spirits of wine ; resist turpentine and 
 oil : are good driers and very strong 
 binders, but are of too deep a colour to 
 be used in the flesh tints. 
 
 Common Rosin — Is a very cheap and 
 useful binder, as it dissolves very readily 
 with either spirits of wine, turpentine, or 
 oil ; but as it is thus easily acted upon 
 
it should be used sparingly, and merely 
 as a fixer. 
 
 OF VARNISH BINDERS DISSOLVED IN OIL. 
 
 As oil completely repels all aqueous 
 fluids, and is in itself a powerful binder, 
 of course those resinous substances that 
 are dissolved in oil must necessarily be 
 stronger binders than the common spirit 
 varnishes. 
 
 Gum Copal — The most powerful of 
 all the binders, as it resists the action of 
 spirits of wine or turpentine; and will 
 only dissolve in oil when exposed to a 
 very strong heat. 
 
 Japan Gold Size — Composed of gum 
 clemi, amber, asphaltum, &c. dissolved 
 
76 
 
 in drying oil by strong heat, is therefore 
 also a very powerful binder, and is use- 
 ful in fixing the flock grounds, or as a 
 glazing. 
 
 OF OILS. 
 
 It is of the utmost importance that the 
 oils used in this process should be of the 
 purest quality, otherwise a turbid foul- 
 ness will rise to the surface of the picture, 
 which will greatly impair the clearness 
 and beauty of the colouring. 
 
 Oils being liable to a regular process 
 of fermentation, may by this means be 
 rendered perfectly pure ; and I recom- 
 mend that none should be used but such 
 as have undergone this process of fermen- 
 tation. This is, however, the business 
 of the colourman. 
 
77 
 
 In the course of time fat oils become 
 waxy , and being of a tough nature, not 
 brittle like gums or resins, leave the pic- 
 ture very flexible, and when perfectly dry 
 give strength and body to the colours. 
 
 Common Drying Oil — Being prepared 
 with sugar of lead, litharge, or other me- 
 tallic oxydes, will always darken consi- 
 derably ; and as it is the nature of all 
 oils to rise to the surface, it should be 
 used very cautiously. 
 
 Linseed Oil boiled with Umber — Dries 
 very well ; and when pure does not 
 alter ; is not deleterious ; and I there- 
 fore recommend it in preference to com- 
 mon drying oil, when the darkness of the 
 colour is not an objection. It is very 
 useful mixed with japan gold size in fix- 
 ing a flock ground. 
 
78 
 
 Unboiled Linseed Oil — May be used 
 very safely, but dries slowly. 
 
 Nut Oil and Poppy Oil — The clearest 
 in colour, but slow in drying. 
 
 OF WAX. 
 
 Wax — Dissolves in spirits of wine or 
 turpentine ; softens with oil into a sort 
 of butter ; melts easily when exposed to 
 heat ; will not incorporate thoroughly 
 with oil colour ; spoils the tooth of the 
 surface, so as to render retouching with 
 crayons almost impracticable. For these 
 reasons I recommend that it should not 
 be used in this process. But those who 
 dislike the smell of oil, may perhaps dis- 
 regard these objections. 
 
79 
 
 OF WATER BINDERS. 
 
 Binders of this class resist the action 
 of rectified spirits, or oily fluids, or heat, 
 but dissolve easily in water or weak 
 spirits, such as gin, rum, and brandy. 
 
 Isinglass — Dissolves in water or gin, 
 but not in spirits of wine. Is a good 
 drier, and being of a tough elastic nature 
 leaves the cloth very flexible, and not 
 liable to crack. 
 
 i 
 
 Common Glue — Precisely of the same 
 nature, but the darkness of its colour 
 makes it unfit for delicate toned pic- 
 tures. 
 
 Gum Arahick — Dissolves very readily 
 
80 
 
 in water or rum. Is a good drier, but if 
 used too strong will infallibly crack. 
 
 Gum Tragacanth — Dissolves in hot 
 water. Not liable to crack. 
 
 All farinaceous substances, such as 
 starch, paste, rice water, &c. &c. ought 
 cautiously to be avoided, as I have in- 
 variably found them subject to the defect 
 of cracking. 
 
 The opposition that exists between 
 these two classes of binders and their 
 varieties, if the artist rightly avails him- 
 self of it, supplies a very powerful prin- 
 ciple of incorporation. The colouring, 
 first fixed with water binders, and 
 then with oils and resins, wall withstand 
 all the ordinary solvents. The water 
 binders, when protected by oils and 
 
8i 
 
 fesins, effectually repel their natural 
 solvent, water ; and are at the same 
 time quite inaccessible to the common 
 solvents of resinous substances, such as 
 turpentine, heat, spirits of wine, &c. 
 — Alter the application, or make it 
 single , and the incorporation becomes 
 very insecure as it is in common oil 
 pictures. The colouring being simply 
 incorporated with oil, easily dissolves 
 in turpentine or spirits of wine, and 
 would melt and rise in blisters on being 
 exposed to heat. 
 
 This principle of compound incor- 
 poration, if once rightly understood, 
 will be the best guide I can offer to 
 regulate the application of the different 
 binders as the work advances. It is 
 also material to be attended to, as it 
 effectually preserves that fine separa- 
 
 G 
 
82 
 
 lion of tints, or what is called breaking 
 of the colours, observable in the old mas- 
 ters. 
 
 PREPARED MIXTURES FOR FIXING 
 CRAYONS. 
 
 VARNISH BINDERS. 
 
 No. I. Common Rosin Binder . — Dis* 
 solve two tea spoonsfull of pounded rosin 
 in about half a pint of spirits of wine. 
 
 No. 2. Ditto ditto . — Only, instead of 
 spirits of wine, use turpentine. 
 
 No. 3. Sandarack Binder . — Dissolve 
 about a quarter of an ounce of gum 
 sandarack in a pint of spirits of wine : 
 place it near the fire, first taking out 
 the cork or the bottle will burst. 
 
83 
 
 No. 4. Seed Lac and Shell Lac . — Dis- 
 solve any quantity of these gums in 
 spirits of wine. When used for fixing, 
 dilute well with spirits of wine. 
 
 No. 5. Mastic Varnish, well diluted 
 with turpentine. 
 
 No. 6. Oil Binder . — Purified linseed 
 oil, well diluted with turpentine. 
 
 No. 7 . Mix a little of the rosin binder. 
 No. 2. with the oil binder, No. 6. 
 
 PREPARATION OP WATER BINDERS. 
 
 No. 8. Isinglass . Dissolve isinglass 
 in hot water. 
 
 No. 9. Gum Arabic . — Dissolve in cold 
 or hot water, 
 
 g 2 
 
84 
 
 No. 10. Ditto . — Dissolved in rum ; a 
 little clarified honey may be added, to 
 prevent cracking. 
 
 No. 1 1 . Gin Glue . — Fill a phial bot- 
 tle completely with isinglass, then pour 
 in gin so as to cover the isinglass and 
 nearly to fill the bottle. Boil it in a 
 water bath till the isinglass is dissolved : 
 keep it well corked. When you want 
 to use it as a binder, melt it at the fire 
 or in warm water (first taking out the 
 cork,) and pour a little of it into about 
 four times the quantity of gin. When 
 the gin is good it will always fix the 
 crayons on the surface , without blot- 
 ting. It will also keep for years ; and is 
 a very firm binder. 
 
 No. 12. Mix strong size with megel- 
 lup, or with copal varnish. This is very 
 
85 
 
 useful in imitations of Rembrandt, and 
 those masters who impasted their pic- 
 tures with a powerful body of colour. 
 
 OF GROUNDS. 
 
 The most desirable qualities in a 
 ground are, 
 
 1st. That it should have a good grain, 
 and receive the touch of the crayon with 
 freedom. 
 
 2d. That it should be flexible, and 
 not liable to crack. 
 
 3d. That it should not be too soft or 
 absorbent, so as to let the colours sink 
 more than is unavoidable. 
 
86 
 
 These qualities are, however, difficult 
 to combine. The calico receives the co- 
 lour freely, and is perfectly flexible ; but 
 being so very soft and absorbent, the 
 colouring does not stand out so well on 
 this as on a prepared ground, and con- 
 sequently requires many repaintings. — 
 The artist will arrive more immediately 
 at his effect in its full strength on a pre- 
 pared ground, but it will not be equally 
 flexible and secure against cracking. I 
 shall distinguish the grounds as natural , 
 artificial , and prepared grounds. 
 
 OF NATURAL GROUNDS. 
 
 Of this description are the different 
 sorts of cloths, silks, leather, &c. that 
 afford a grain or surface capable of 
 
87 
 
 receiving the touch of the crayon. For 
 large pictures I prefer calico to any 
 other. It should be prepared as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 No. 1. Take a piece of common 
 white calico, ot an even but flocky tex- 
 ture, dip it in weak gum water or isin- 
 glass ; wring it half dry, and strain it 
 very tight on a wooden frame. When 
 dry, colour it with raw umbre, or any 
 colour that may be preferred, ground in 
 water without any mixture of gum ; dry 
 it at the fire, and the gum with which 
 the cloth is stiffened will bind the colour 
 sufficiently. Then rub it slightly with 
 sand paper, to take off the superfluous 
 woolliness of the surface and give it a 
 better grain. Apply the rosin mixture, 
 No. 1, at the back. The cloth being 
 
88 
 
 impregnated both with gum and rosiu, 
 the crayons may be fixed, either by 
 spunging the back of the picture with 
 water, or sprinkling the surface with 
 spirits of wine. The water dissolves 
 the gum, and spirits of wine the rosin, 
 and that fixes the colour. So prepared, 
 the shadows may be washed in with 
 water colour, without disturbing the co- 
 lour of the ground. 
 
 No. 2. Prepare the calico according 
 to the foregoing directions, but, instead 
 of No. 1, impregnate the cloth with 
 the oil mixture, No. 7, and let it dry 
 and thoroughly harden before it is used. 
 The oil will then assist to support the 
 colours, and prevent them sinking into 
 the unprimed cloth. The oil mixture 
 being well diluted with turpentine, will 
 
89 
 
 not repel the water colour so much as 
 to prevent the picture being begun as 
 usual by washing in the shadows. 
 
 No. 3. White calico painted over 
 with a thin mixture of chalk and size, 
 and the rosin binder applied as usual. 
 
 No. 4. The same, only the chalk mix- 
 ture applied at the back of the cloth. 
 
 No. 5. Impregnate the cloth first with 
 isinglass, then with a mixture of drying 
 oil, turpentine, and mastic varnish. Let 
 it dry for some days, then colour it as 
 you please : fix the ground with spirits 
 of wine, then paint on it. 
 
 For small high finished pictures India 
 dimity, or rich silk, with a good grain, 
 may occasionally be adopted. Rough 
 
90 
 
 calf leather also. Vellum is of a beau- 
 tiful texture for unvarnished crayons ; 
 but in this process I have not found it 
 answer, as it is altered by water or oil. 
 Common drawing paper I would abso- 
 lutely reject, as meagre and perishable. 
 Papier machee might be rendered very 
 useful, and I think it not unlikely that 
 the old masters occasionally may have 
 painted on grounds of this kind. Wood, 
 when sawed and left rough, sometimes 
 affords a very good grain. Copper 
 would be desirable, if it could be made 
 sufficiently rough by corrosion or filing. 
 
 ARTIFICIAL GROUNDS. 
 
 When the surface of the picture has 
 lost its capacity or power of receiving 
 the crayon, it will then be necessary to 
 
91 
 
 resort to an artificial ground, prepared 
 as follows : 
 
 Dilute japan gold size with a little 
 drying oil, and a small proportion of mas- 
 tic varnish. Pass over the face of the 
 picture with this mixture, then sift some 
 dark coloured flock powder over it. — 
 The flock will leave the painting in 
 view, but it ought to remain some time 
 to dry and harden before it is retouched. 
 
 FLOCK GROUND ON PANNEL, OR ON A GILT 
 GROUND. 
 
 Apply the gold size mixture as above 
 directed, only add a little asphaltum, or 
 burnt sienna, or burnt umbre, to give 
 it colour and body. Sift the flock over 
 it. 
 
92 
 
 No. 2. Ditto ditto : but instead of 
 wood take a common primed cloth, such 
 as is sold in the colour shops. 
 
 PREPARED GROUNDS IN IMITATION OF THE 
 OLD MASTERS. 
 
 I shall not attempt to give any de- 
 tailed instructions for the preparation 
 of grounds of this description, for as 
 they require to be managed with much 
 care, it is better to leave them to the 
 regular colourmen. 
 
 For the priming of these grounds I 
 recommend a composition of calcareous 
 earths, pounded glass, marble, &c. 
 which, if rightly managed, will leave 
 the surface rough and porous, so as to 
 
93 
 
 receive either oil, or water colour, or 
 crayons. 
 
 The grounds of the old masters ap- 
 pear to be generally prepared upon this 
 principle, pounded glass or marble being 
 usually found mixed up with the sub- 
 stances of which they are composed. 
 
 Before you begin to paint on a pre- 
 pared ground, sprinkle it first with the 
 rosin binder. No. 1, and then the gin 
 glue. No. 11, well diluted with gin. 
 Then as you proceed with the paint- 
 ing, fix alternate with gin and spirits 
 of wine. 
 
\\ . • ^ / • *■ ‘ >r» 'Mi yj*v: 
 
 . 
 
 <•* • 
 
 
 -! ' ' ' . '■ '. ' ■ . . ■" I....; 
 
 ..... r .• -i 
 
 * 
 
 
 
 
 
 
OF THE 
 
 ALTERATION OF COLOURS 
 
 BY 
 
 OIL OR VARNISH. 
 
 The only difficulty I anticipate on the 
 first trial of this process is, the change 
 produced on all dry colours by oil or 
 varnish. It will, however, be greatly 
 diminished by a strict adherence to the 
 rule, which on this and on every other 
 account, I so strongly recommend, of 
 painting without shading colours. If 
 painted on the ordinary plan, it would, 
 I think, be impossible to varnish crayons 
 
96 
 
 with any success, as the darkening of 
 the half tints and shadows would de- 
 stroy all gradation and breadth of co- 
 lour; but on this system the colouring 
 is only a little lowered in tone, without 
 losino; its breadth. 
 
 Colours, being prepared from a variety 
 of substances, have very different pro- 
 perties, which render them liable to this 
 alteration in greater and less degrees; 
 it will, therefore, be necessary for the 
 artist to acquaint himself thoroughly 
 with the properties of colours with refer- 
 ence to this circumstance. 
 
 The colours used in painting are 
 chiefly native earths, or artificial pre- 
 parations from metallic, vegetable, and 
 animal substances. 
 
97 
 
 OF EARTHS. 
 
 Native earths are the most durable of 
 any colours now in use. The alteration 
 produced on them by oil, depends prin- 
 cipally on their being absorbent, or 
 otherwise* 
 
 YELLOW EARTHS. 
 
 Common Yellow Ochre . — An absor- 
 bent earth. When oiled, changes to a 
 sort of tan colour. 
 
 Light Ochre , or Stone Ochre . — A sort 
 of clay found in Oxfordshire, and some- 
 times called Oxford ochre, of a bright 
 yellow : becomes semi transparent in oil, 
 but alters very little in colour. When 
 
 / 
 
 H 
 
98 
 
 mixed with an absorbent earth makes 
 very good crayons for outlines. 
 
 Dark or Brown Ochre . — An absor- 
 bent earth of a dark yellow colour. — 
 Changes with oil to a warm yellow 
 brown, and is an excellent colour for 
 the middle tints and for sketching. 
 
 Common English Ochre . — Of very 
 similar qualities. 
 
 Roman Ochre . — A fine rich yellow ; 
 very absorbent, and darkens a good deal 
 in oil. 
 
 Raw Terra di Sienna^An ochrous 
 earth, of a deep yellow colour and very 
 transparent. Is, therefore, a valuable 
 colour in oil or water colours, but its 
 want of body and the hardness of its 
 texture renders it unfit for crayons. 
 
99 
 
 Naples Yellow . — Is said to be a na- 
 tive earth found in the neighbourhood of 
 Naples; but either this may be doubted, 
 or it is seldom to be met with genuine, as 
 it varies much in quality ; and, unlike the 
 generality of native earths, cannot be 
 depended on for durability. The best 
 sort is, however, reckoned to stand well 
 in oil, but if it touches iron along with 
 the least watery moisture it will blacken. 
 Barring these objections, it is a desire- 
 able colour for crayons, being of a fine 
 delicate tint, and having a good body is 
 very little altered by oil. 
 
 RED EARTHS. 
 
 Ught Red , or Red Ochre .— Is the 
 common stone ochre burnt. Alters very 
 little in oil. When mixed with flake 
 
 H 2 ; i 
 
100 
 
 white it is an excellent colour for the 
 flesh tints. 
 
 Venetian Red . — An absorbent earth : 
 darkens a little with oil : has a good body. 
 
 Indian Red . — An ochrous earth : when 
 genuine is a fine purple red : has a good 
 body, and stands out well in oil. 
 
 Spanish Brown . — An absorbent earth, 
 very similar to Venetian red, but not so 
 bright : darkens with oil, but is a very 
 solid body colour. 
 
 Burnt Terra di Sienna . — Is raw' 
 sienna calcined, and of course resem- 
 bles it in every thing but colour, which 
 is of a bright orange or apricot colour. 
 Invaluable for its warmth and trans- 
 parency in oil or water colours, but not 
 proper for crayons. 
 
10! 
 
 BROWN EARTHS. 
 
 Raiv Umbre . — Is a very good body 
 colour, not very absorbent : darkens 
 when oiled. 
 
 Burnt Umbre . — The same colour cal- 
 cined : becomes darker and of a colder 
 tint when oiled. 
 
 English Umbre . — A fine warm brown 
 of a lighter shade, in all other respects 
 of similar qualities. 
 
 Vandyke Brown . — A fine transparent 
 brown for oil or water colours. 
 
 Cologne Earth . — Very similar, but 
 darker and more forcible. Is one of the 
 best colours for dark grontids. 
 
102 
 
 GREEN EARTHS. 
 
 Terra Verte . — An ochrous earth 
 brought from Italy : does not alter 
 much with oil, and makes useful cray- 
 ons for sketching the foliage : is very 
 durable. 
 
 Malachite Stone . ~ When pounded is 
 a beautiful green colour, that might, I 
 think, be found a valuable aquisition, as 
 the artificial greens in general are not 
 to be depended on for durability. 
 
 BLUE. 
 
 The lapis lazuli furnishes the finest of 
 all blues — ultramarine ; but its high 
 price makes it little used in modern art. 
 Heightens a little with oil. 
 
m 
 
 Ultramarine Ashes . — Useful for glaz- 
 ing or scumbling with oil, but has not 
 body enough for crayons. 
 
 With reference to crayon painting, 
 the earths afford excellent middle tints, 
 and supposing the ground to be of the 
 darkest shade, I prefer them to any other 
 for the commencement of a picture ; but 
 to bring out the colouring in its full 
 strength, depends on the metallic co- 
 lours. 
 
 OF COLOURS PREPARED FROM METALLIC 
 SUBSTANCES. 
 
 The general properties of metallic co- 
 lours are opacity and strength, and a 
 tendency to return to their natural state. 
 They are consequently not to be relied 
 
104 
 
 upon for their durability, unless well 
 defended from the atmosphere by oil or 
 varnish. 
 
 OF RED METALLLIC COLOURS. 
 
 Vermilion . — A preparation of quick- 
 silver: a very opake and powerful co- 
 lour : does not darken in oil, but the 
 tint is a little heightened. 
 
 Dutch Vermilion . — A cheaper prepa- 
 ration of the same kind. Stands well in 
 oil. 
 
 Native dumber . — Is a metallic com- 
 bination formed in the earth : reckoned 
 very durable : resembles vermilion in 
 colour, and in every other property. 
 
 Orange Lead. — A very brilliant 
 
105 
 
 powerful colour, and very opake : is 
 very deleterious, and liable to turn 
 black. Does not alter in colour when 
 oiled. 
 
 OF YELLOW METALLIC COLOURS. 
 
 Turpeth Mineral . — A fine bright 
 yellow, prepared from mercury : not 
 reckoned durable : does not darken 
 with oil. 
 
 King’s Yellow . — A preparation of 
 arsenic : very deleterious and perishable. 
 
 Yellow and Orange Orpiment . — Pre- 
 pared from the same mineral, and the 
 same properties in every particular. 
 
 Yellow and Orange Chromes. — These 
 
106 
 
 are newly invented colours, prepared 
 from iron. They surpass all others in 
 force and brilliancy, but are not reckoned 
 durable : they retain their colour in oil. 
 
 Masticot . — Is flake white, or white lead 
 gently calcined, by which it is changed 
 to a yellow of lighter or deeper tint, ac- 
 cording to the degree of calcination. 
 Crayons prepared from this colour are 
 particularly useful in this process, as it 
 is a strong body colour, and stands out 
 very well in oil. 
 
 OF GREEN METALLIC COLOURS. 
 
 These are principally prepared from 
 copper, and are therefore very deleteri- 
 ous if not used cautiously. 
 
Verdigrease . — A very bright green, 
 which heightens a little in oil. 
 
 Crystals of Verdigrease — Is the salt 
 produced by the solution of copper in 
 vinegar. The crystals thus formed are 
 of a fine emerald green colour. When 
 varnished stands very well, and is very 
 brilliant, but is not an opake body co- 
 lour. 
 
 Scheele's Green . — Is, I believe, chalk 
 tinged with a solution of copper, and be* 
 comes quite transparent with oil. 
 
 BLUE METALLIC COLOURS. 
 
 Blue Verditer . — A very bright azure 
 blue, prepared from copper : does not 
 
108 
 
 darken in oil, but stands out with a good 
 body, is therefore an excellent colour for 
 crayons. 
 
 Antwerp Blue . — I am not certain 
 whether I am correct in classing this 
 as a metallic colour, but I suppose it to 
 be chalk tinged with a metallic solution, 
 from the circumstance of its changing 
 with oil from a pale blue to the darkest 
 shade, and becoming perfectly trans- 
 parent. It is much used in oil painting, 
 but I do not recommend it for crayons. 
 
 OF CERUSS, OR THE WHITE OXYDE OF 
 LEAD. 
 
 Flake White.— Is the best prepara- 
 tion, and is the only white proper for 
 
109 
 
 this process. When mixed with any 
 other colour it will give them body. It 
 is in fact the only one to be depended on 
 for strength. When perfectly pure it 
 does not alter with oil, but it is fre- 
 quently sophisticated with chalk, which 
 tends to render it less white and opake 
 when oiled. 
 
 OF VEGETABLE COLOURS. 
 
 These in general partake of their 
 original nature, and are very perishable : 
 they are the most transparent of any 
 colours, and consequently alter consider- 
 ably in oil. For this reason, excepting 
 the lakes which cannot be dispensed 
 with, I do not recommend them for 
 crayons. 
 
110 
 
 OP RED VEGETABLE COLOURS. 
 
 Madder Lakes . — These are very beau- 
 tiful transparent colours when ground in 
 oil, and reckoned more durable than any 
 other of the vegetable colours. A great 
 variety of tints are prepared from this 
 substance ; some appear, when dry, of 
 a pale pink, and alter in oil to a bright 
 ruby colour. 
 
 Common Red Lake — Prepared from 
 Brasil wood. Becomes transparent in 
 oil. 
 
 Purple Lake .- — The same in every re- 
 spect but colour. 
 
m 
 
 OF YELLOW VEGETABLE COLOURS. 
 
 Dutch Pink . — Is chalk tinged with the 
 stain of French berries, or other vegeta- 
 ble matter: very transparent, and very 
 perishable. 
 
 Yellow Lake.— A similar preparation, 
 and of similar properties. 
 
 Gamboge . — Is a gum brought from 
 East Indies, of a very bright transpa- 
 rent yellow. Dissolves in water or spirits 
 of wine. I cannot speak as to its dura- 
 bility, but if that could be sufficiently 
 depended on it would be a very useful 
 yellow, when mixed with masticot to 
 give it body. 
 
112 
 
 BLUE. 
 
 Indigo . — Is a vegetable substance 
 brought from the East and West Indies, 
 of a dull dark blue colour. Is reckoned 
 to stand well, but as I am not in the 
 habit of using crayons of so dark a shade, 
 I do not know what difference of tint is 
 produced by oil upon this colour. Is 
 much used in water colours. 
 
 BROWNS. 
 
 Terra Japonica , or Japan Earth . — A 
 gummy substance, extracted from some 
 vegetable. Dissolves in water. Is of a 
 mild brown colour, and very transparent. 
 Is not applicable to crayons, but may 
 occasionally be useful in water colours. 
 
113 
 
 Brown Madder . — A fine transparent 
 brown for oil or water colours. 
 
 GREEN* 
 
 Sap Green . — A vegetable colour much 
 used in water colours, and if it could be 
 depended on for durability might be use- 
 ful in this process. 
 
 black. 
 
 Blue Black *— Is a sort of charcoal, 
 prepared from vine stalks or other vege- 
 table substances. When mixed with 
 flake white is a very good colour for the 
 composition of grey crayons. 
 
 Lamp Black . — The soot of oil col- 
 lected as it is formed by burning. 
 
 i 
 
114 
 
 OF COLOURS PREPARED FROM ANIMAL 
 SUBSTANCES. 
 
 BLUE. 
 
 Prussian Blue.~A preparation from 
 animal coal. Much used in oil and 
 water colours. Very transparent, and 
 darkens a good deal in oil. 
 
 RED* 
 
 Carmine . — A most beautiful ruby co- 
 lour prepared from cochineal: stands 
 exceedingly well in oil or water colour, 
 and is a valuable crayon for crimson 
 draperies: alters very little in oil. 
 
115 
 
 GREEN. 
 
 Prussian Green . — Differs from Prus- 
 sian blue only in colour. 
 
 YELLOW. 
 
 Gall Nuts . — Of a deep yellow colour, 
 very transparent. Is used only as a 
 water colour. 
 
 BLACK. 
 
 Ivory Black .— Burnt ivory. 
 
 BROWN. 
 
 Sepia . — The ink of the cuttle fish : a 
 
 i 2 
 
116 
 
 fine warm brown, much used in water 
 colours. 
 
 Mummy . — Prepared from the animal 
 remains of the Egyptian mummies. — 
 When ground in oil is perfectly trans- 
 parent, and is a fine glazing colour. 
 
 BITUMENS. 
 
 Asphaltum . — Dissolves with heat in 
 turpentine or oil: a rich transparent 
 brown resembling pitch, and one of the 
 best glazing colours for oil painting. 
 
 Jet . — Grinds in spirits of wine to a 
 very fine brown of the darkest shade : 
 dries much better than asphaltum, and, 
 I think, might prove a useful addition to 
 the stock of glazing colours now in use. 
 
117 
 
 VITRIFIED COLOURS. 
 
 Common Blue Smalt . — Is blue glass 
 finely pounded : not now in use, either 
 for oil or water colour, owing to its 
 gritty texture, but makes excellent 
 crayons. The colour is heightened on 
 being touched with oil, but is otherwise 
 absolutely unalterable. 
 
 Saxon Smalt . — The same substance, 
 but of a brighter tint, and more finely 
 prepared. 
 
 Bleu de Cobalt , or French Blue . — Is a 
 secret preparation, but is probably a 
 vitrified colour. Heightens a little in 
 oil. 
 
 Next to ultramarine these are the finest 
 of all blue colours. 
 
118 
 
 INDIAN INK. 
 
 The preparation unknown. Much 
 used in water colour, and may be used 
 in this process in common with all other 
 water colours. 
 
 INDIAN YELLOW. 
 
 Preparation unknown. A very rich 
 and beautiful colour. 
 
 OF THE PREPARATION OF THE CRAYONS. 
 
 Much of the effect of the picture de- 
 pends on the crayons delivering freely, 
 and with a fine grain. They ought to 
 be of different degrees of hardness. — 
 
119 
 
 Those for sketching the outlines should 
 approach as near as possible to the tex- 
 ture of a red chalk pencil. The neces- 
 sity of excluding* the calcareous whiles 
 has already been explained. 
 
 Hereafter I contemplate many im- 
 provements in the preparation of crayons 
 adapted to this process, among which a 
 very important one would be the use of 
 pounded vitrified colours. Their gritty 
 texture, which renders them quite in- 
 applicable, either to water or oil paint- 
 ing, would in this process prove a great 
 advantage, as it would assist to preserve 
 the tooth of the surface. By this means 
 orange lead, chrome yellows, and a 
 vast variety of metallic oxydes might be 
 brought into use with perfect safety, the 
 process of vitrification rendering them 
 
120 
 
 absolutely unalterable. At present no 
 artist that has the least regard to the 
 durability of his colours will venture 
 to use them, but their great force and 
 brilliancy would make them valuable 
 acquisitions. Another advantage would 
 be, that the poisonous oxydes being en- 
 cased by vitrification, would not then 
 give out any deleterious effluvia. It 
 strikes me, that if the oxydes or preci- 
 pitations of lead, tin, zinc, &c. were 
 impregnated with glass, a very beauti- 
 ful and durable white might be obtained 
 suitable to this process. I throw out 
 this hint for those who may be com- 
 petent to try the experiment. I have 
 tried the common white enamel, but it 
 did not appear to have been impregnated 
 with a metallic oxyde, and consequently 
 had not sufficient body. 
 
121 
 
 I am inclined to think the old mas- 
 ters occasionlly availed themselves of the 
 use of vitrified colours, and that the 
 bright blue which prevails so much in 
 the old Italian pictures, will be found 
 to be a preparation of smalt . An emi- 
 nent chymist has assured me, that what 
 had been subjected to his examination 
 was not ultra-marine. It is certain that 
 the Italian authors mention smalt as one 
 of the colours in ordinary use, which 
 leaves a strong inference in proof of their 
 mode of applying it, as on account of 
 its gritty quality it is quite unmanage- 
 able in oil painting. 
 
 It may hereafter be a subject of en- 
 quiry worthy the attention of men of 
 science, whether the inalterability of the 
 colours that yet ornament the Egyptian 
 tombs may be ascribed to their having 
 
122 
 
 been first subjected to a process of vitri- 
 fication, on which may be founded some 
 plausible conjectures as to the mode of 
 painting then in use. 
 
IMITATIONS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 OLD MASTERS. 
 
 From what has been already detailed, 
 it will be obvious that this process ad- 
 mits of an infinite variety of modifica- 
 tions, which it would be useless, if not 
 impossible to describe. The judgment 
 and taste of the artist will hereafter re- 
 gulate its application, but until a per- 
 fect mastery is attained from practice 
 and experience, the surest course is for 
 him to fix on some particular master as 
 his guide and model, whose style of art 
 
124 
 
 tnay best correspond with his own. For 
 rural nature, and day light tones, the 
 Flemish school offers the best models for 
 imitation. 
 
 OF THE FLEMISH SCHOOL. 
 
 It appears to me that the Flemish 
 masters almost invariably began their 
 pictures with red chalk, upon a bright 
 orange or amber coloured ground, a 
 process that will be found to give re- 
 markable brilliancy. Red chalk glazes 
 to a very fine tint for the under tones ; 
 when broken with yellow, it is the best 
 combination that can be adopted for 
 the under colour of luminous day light 
 shadows. 
 
125 
 
 IMITATIONS OF CUYP, PAUL, POTTER, &C, 
 
 Directions . — The ground may be either 
 white calico, or a white prepared ground. 
 On this sketch the whole design, and shade 
 in the masses with a red chalk pencil. 
 It may be softened in with a leather 
 stamp or not, as you choose. As you 
 proceed fix the colours alternately with 
 varnish binders and water binders, so 
 as to keep the tints separate . Strengthen 
 the shadows in water colour with burnt 
 sienna : the burnt sienna is only a deeper 
 shade of the same tint. Then go over 
 the whole with a bright gold or amber 
 colour so as to represent a glowing sun- 
 shine *. After securing the under colour 
 
 * It is quite immaterial whether the ground is 
 coloured in this stage, or when the picture is first 
 begun. 
 
126 
 
 with a varnish binder, wash in the 
 shadows to their full strength, with 
 umbres, Vandyke brown, Cologne earth, 
 &c. and tinge the trees and draperies 
 with their local tints. The golden tones 
 of the under colour will break finely 
 through the foliage, and the whole pic- 
 ture when finished and varnished will 
 be beautifully illuminated by the ground, 
 or what is technically called the luce di 
 sotto. 
 
 The design thus prepared, you may 
 then crayon in the lights and local co- 
 lours. Touch the trees lightly with 
 greens and yellows, and take care to 
 embody the light of the sky and the 
 draperies with as much force as you 
 can. When you have done all that 
 can be done with the crayons, saturate 
 the picture with the oil mixture. No. 6, 
 
127 
 
 and then finish with oil colour, pencil- 
 ling the lights of the foreground, foliage, 
 &c. freely, and scumbling the sky and 
 distances, wherever the harmony of the 
 picture requires it. When thoroughly 
 hard, glaze with any tint you like. 
 
 If we consider shade, substance, and 
 air, as the elements of painting, we 
 shall find that in a picture executed 
 on this plan, each has its proper repre- 
 sentative. Thin impalpable water co- 
 lour for shade : substance, embodied 
 with oil colour or crayons, according to 
 its texture : air, by the interposition of 
 a diaphanous medium on the distances, 
 in the operation of scumbling. On these 
 principles the Flemish masters attained 
 the truest imitation of the day light tones 
 of nature. 
 
128 
 
 Claude may be imitated exactly on 
 the same plan. 
 
 WOUVERMANS. 
 
 The same, only that the ground should 
 be finely prepared, and of a sort of tan 
 colour. 
 
 TENIERS. 
 
 In the Flemish masters the main dis- 
 tinctions that are observable in their 
 manner, seem to arise from the degree 
 of roughness or smoothness of their 
 grounds. Teniers painted on finely pre- 
 pared grounds, sufficiently porous to im- 
 bibe the water colour, but not rough 
 
129 
 
 enough to receive a body of dry colour. 
 His pictures have the appearance of 
 being done principally in water colour 
 and red chalk, and then freely pencilled 
 with oil colour. When the ground is 
 well prepared, the chalk casts with great 
 sharpness and delicacy of finish, and the 
 whole may be very finely made out be- 
 fore a touch of oil colour is introduced. 
 In the management of his half tints, 
 Teniers had a peculiar manner of sub- 
 duing the fiery tints of the ground, by 
 thin tones composed of the umbres, 
 ochres, and other mild colours, which 
 gave an extraordinary delicacy to his 
 execution. 
 
 REMBRANDT. 
 
 Rembrandt may be imitated on the 
 general principles of the Flemish school. 
 
 K 
 
130 
 
 that is, with red chalk, and water colour 
 upon water colour , till the tones have 
 reached their full strength. His shadows 
 are remarkably luminous, and so trans- 
 parent, that in many of his pictures his 
 under-sketching is quite distinguishable : 
 sometimes, however, he evidently began 
 on grounds of the darkest shade. The 
 powerful manner in which he embodied 
 his lights, indicates that his grounds must 
 have been prepared with an unusually 
 rough surface. 
 
 OF THE ITALIAN SCHOOL. 
 
 The Italian masters painted with 
 greater depth than the Flemish, and 
 (with the exception of Rembrandt,) 
 with a greater body of colour. The 
 texture of the ground is, therefore, a 
 
131 
 
 main consideration in imitations of the 
 Italian school. 
 
 IMITATION OF TITIAN ON A DARK FLOCK 
 GROUND. 
 
 As I think the Venetian painters made 
 crayons the principal in their system, I 
 prefer a flock ground for an imitation of 
 a Venetian master, because it will take 
 up the crayons with a richer body than 
 any other ground. It is, however, quite 
 at the discretion of the artist to select 
 whatever ground he pleases. 
 
 DIRECTIONS. 
 
 1st. Trace the outline with a red 
 chalk pencil, or with crayons of some 
 k 2 
 
132 
 
 middle tint, as red, yellow, and brown 
 ochre. 2d. Sketch in the lights and 
 local colours. 3d. Fix with spirits of 
 wine : the fixing will degrade the co- 
 lours one or two tones. 4th. Repaint 
 and embody the lights till the ground is 
 quite saturated with colour. Continue 
 to fix as occasion requires, alternate 
 with varnish binders and water binders. 
 Paint the flesh with its simple local tint, 
 leaving the blues and greens, and all 
 cold colours to be scumbled in with oil 
 colour in the last finishing : this gives 
 great breadth and truth to the tones. Do 
 not rub in the crayons with your finger, 
 as is usually done, but touch with a fine 
 light hand, so as to preserve that porous 
 granulated texture peculiar to the Vene- 
 tian school. Be also careful to preserve 
 the roundings of the forms, by always 
 
133 
 
 touching from the focus of light. When 
 the ground will receive no more colour, 
 let your last fixing be with a water 
 binder, and then the oil binder, No. 6, 
 may with safety be applied either to the 
 surface or the back of the picture. Till 
 the oil is quite dry the colouring will ap- 
 pear considerably lowered in tone ; you 
 have then to brighten the lights with 
 oil colour. 
 
 The principles by which the Vene- 
 tian painters regulated the application 
 of oil colour now remain to be con- 
 sidered. I have already noted, that 
 they appear to have excluded it as much 
 as possible from the masses of all soft 
 substances, such as flesh, drapery, sky, 
 &c. reserving it for hard shining bodies, 
 or sharp angular figures, as in architec- 
 
134 
 
 tural ornaments, the leaves of trees, 
 buildings, &c. In touching the flesh 
 with oil colour, they appear to have 
 applied it chiefly to the bony or carti- 
 laginous parts, or the glossy lights about 
 the eyes, &c. A few touches on white 
 linen gives great relief to the colouring. 
 
 BASSAN. 
 
 Bassan may be imitated nearly on the 
 same plan, but his grounds are generally 
 darker than Titian’s, and his lights more 
 impasted with oil colour. 
 
 PAULO VERONESE. 
 
 Paulo Veronese usually painted on 
 light coloured grounds, in consequence 
 
of which his tones have not the depth 
 and richness of Titian. 
 
 CORREGGIO. 
 
 Correggio is said to have paid extra- 
 ordinary attention to the preparation of 
 his grounds, and to some particular advan- 
 tages of this Mud lam inclined to attribute 
 some of his most striking excellences. He 
 appears to have frequently painted on a 
 gold ground, coloured over with a deep 
 shade of asphaltum or some rich trans- 
 parent brown, and probably prepared 
 with so fine a grain as to enable him 
 nearly to complete his picture in cray- 
 ons; hence the peculiar tenderness, or 
 in the technical language, morbidezza of 
 his colouring, and the fine roundings of 
 his figures. His surface is less granu- 
 
136 
 
 lated Ihan the Venetian masters, owing 
 perhaps to his having occasionally blend- 
 ed the crayons by rubbing them in with 
 his finger ; a practice which materially 
 alters the appearance of the surface. 
 
 IMITATION OF THE EARLY MASTERS. 
 
 Gilt grounds, prepared in a similar 
 manner, were very commonly used by 
 the early masters of the 14th and 15th 
 centuries: they give a surprising lustre 
 to the transparent colours, and I think 
 might occasionally be adopted with great 
 advantage. I have often detected the 
 use of gold in the later Italian masters, 
 and have occasionally used it myself 
 with great advantage on dark grounds, 
 by first painting in the lights with liquid 
 gold, then finishing with crayons and 
 oil colour. 
 
THE 
 
 SCHOOL OF CARRACCI, 
 
 ITS RISE AND GRADUAL DECLENSION. 
 
 The school of Carracci established a 
 new era in painting, which may also be 
 regarded as the last. At the close of 
 the sixteenth century we are told *, that 
 a new style was introduced by these 
 masters, compounded of the Roman and 
 Venetian manner. Ludovico Carracci 
 was the inventor of this style. Having 
 conceived in his mind the idea of a more 
 perfect style of art than any he had yet 
 seen, he visited the different cities of 
 
 * See Lanzi, Pilkington, &c. 
 
138 
 
 Italy in order to study all the great 
 works of art, more particularly the works 
 of Raffaelle Correggio and the Venetian 
 school. Collecting from each what was 
 most excellent in their system he formed 
 a style of his own, which attracted uni- 
 versal admiration, and finally superseded 
 that of every other master in Italy. On 
 returning to Bologna, his native city, he 
 lost no time in preparing to put a favorite 
 and long meditated scheme into execu- 
 tion ; the formation of an academy of 
 painting on these new principles* In 
 this he was joined by his two cousins, 
 Hannibal and Agostino Carracci, and a 
 long list of distinguished scholars, among 
 whom were Guido and Domenichino, 
 give abundant proof of its success. 
 
 The style of Ludovico Carracci, Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds describes as in his 
 
139 
 
 mind approaching the nearest to per- 
 fection. “ His unaffected breadth of 
 light and shadow, the simplicity of co- 
 louring, and the solemn effect of that 
 twilight which seems diffused over his 
 pictures, corresponds with grave and 
 dignified subjects, rather than the more 
 artificial brilliancy of sunshine which 
 enlightens the pictures of Titian.” 
 
 Thus recommended, it is to this school 
 the historical painter will direct his at- 
 tention, as affording the best models of 
 imitation. The mechanical means by 
 which this imitation can be accom- 
 plished is our present consideration. 
 
 HANNIBAL CARRACCI. 
 
 The depth of lone and solidity of 
 
140 
 
 effect, which distinguishes the Bologn- 
 ese from the Venetian masters, I think 
 arose principally from these two circum- 
 stances. Their beginning their pic- 
 tures on grounds of a deeper tone, and 
 strengthening and embodying their lights 
 more freely with oil colour than the taste 
 of the Venetian masters admitted. The 
 difference of process would therefore be 
 very inconsiderable ; but the difference 
 of surface and the general effect is very 
 decided and striking. 
 
 With respect to dry colour, the Car- 
 racci seem to have regarded it rather as 
 the mechanism of design than of colour ; 
 as the best means of attaining harmony 
 of light and shade ; and in short, as a 
 general preparation of their whole design 
 for a last finishing of oil colour. 
 
141 
 
 An imitation of Hannibal Carracci is, 
 I think, fully attainable on these princi- 
 ples. The ground should be of a good 
 texture, and of a very dark shade. 
 
 While controuled by the judicious 
 taste of the Carracci, the oil system was 
 never carried beyond its just limits, so 
 as to degenerate into coldness and opa- 
 city ; but these limits seem gradually to 
 have been lost sight of, and from that 
 time the art rapidly declined. 
 
 DOMENICHINO. 
 
 For depth and richness of tone Dome- 
 nichino is unrivalled. His surface has 
 less oil colour than Hannibal Carracci, 
 
142 
 
 and his grounds seem harder and better 
 prepared. 
 
 GUIDO. 
 
 Guido’s taste led him to adopt a silvery 
 tint in preference to the more mellow 
 tones of Carracci and Domenichino, and 
 this would probably oblige him to vary 
 the tint of his ground accordingly. 
 
 f i \ i ; I ' * 
 
 GUERCINO. 
 
 The scholar of Guido, who in imitating 
 his manner degenerated into coldness. 
 Is occasionally spotty and opake, so as 
 to lead to a supposition that he had not 
 strictly adhered to the course of prepara- 
 tion derived from the Venetian school. 
 
143 
 
 ALBANO. 
 
 Another of Guido’s scholars, who 
 seems to have varied the Bolognese man- 
 ner ad libitum , as his pictures have not 
 always the same force of colour, pro- 
 bably owing to some difference in his 
 grounds. 
 
 CARLO CIGNIANI. 
 
 Carlo Cigniani painted with great 
 strength, and was upon the whole a suc- 
 cessful imitator of the Carracci ; but he 
 appears to have carried the oil system a 
 little too far, as his colouring is occa- 
 sionally cold and opake. He had se- 
 veral scholars who adopted his manner, 
 and in a greater or less degree fell into 
 similar defects. 
 
144 
 
 THE ROMAN SCHOOL. 
 
 The Bolognese manner had been 
 adopted into the Roman school, in com- 
 mon with all the other schools of Italy, 
 and produced many eminent examples of 
 its excellence, which it is needless to par- 
 ticularize. 
 
 CARLO MARRATTI. 
 
 The works of this master evidently 
 shew an entire departure from the sys- 
 tem of his predecessors, as respects the 
 clair obscure. There is a mealiness* and 
 
 * The change produced on certain transparent 
 colours by the mixture of flake white or other body 
 colours, will explain the cause of that appearance 
 technically termed mealiness. The rich transparent 
 browns used in the shadows, if mixed with the 
 
145 
 
 flatness in Ins colouring, which indicates 
 that his lights and shades were painted 
 and blended together in oil colour, a 
 practice that appears to have been first 
 introduced at Rome by Vouet, a French 
 painter, in the seventeenth century, and 
 to which his countrymen still most religi- 
 ously adhere. 
 
 At the latter end of the seventeenth 
 century Carlo Marratti was placed at 
 the head of the Roman school, and 
 under his auspices the art rapidly de- 
 generated into mere oil painting. 
 
 smallest portion of flake white, will immediately 
 alter to a cold muddy tint, that gives a remarkable 
 coldness and flatness to the colouring. Those who 
 are well acquainted with the pictures of Le Soeur, 
 and others of the French school, will easily com- 
 prehend the effect I would describe. 
 
 L 
 

 
 
 
 
MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 By this gradual dereliction of the prin- 
 ciples that had heretofore regulated the 
 practice of the Italian schools, all traces 
 of their system at last sunk into total 
 oblivion. Italy had long been the cen- 
 tral school, from which Europe received 
 her instructions, and when the teacher 
 fell into blindness, darkness spread far 
 and wide. The brilliant tones and sun- 
 shine of the Flemish school rapidly dis- 
 appeared. The German, French, and 
 Spanish schools, though they had less 
 to lose, have the signs of similar declen- 
 sion. England is exempt from the re- 
 proach of losing what she never pos- 
 l 2 
 
148 
 
 sessed, excepting as it was practised 
 by foreigners. Holbein and Vandyke, 
 though they resided for a length of time 
 in this country, do not appear to have 
 left any inheritors of their process, what- 
 ever it might be. That it differed from 
 the oil painting of the present day, no 
 one can doubt whose eye is accustomed 
 to the mellow tones of the old masters. 
 But let this be admitted, and it may 
 still appear strange that no vestige of 
 this lost art should be found to exist. 
 If, however, they painted on a system 
 such as I have attempted to explain, 
 (which is my firm belief,) I am satis- 
 fied it might easily be lost sight of from 
 the moment that they ceased to pay the 
 requisite attention to the preparation of 
 their grounds, and this in all probability 
 would occur when once the habit of 
 painting simply in oil colour became 
 
149 
 
 prevalent. It must also be recollected, 
 that in these times every artist was his 
 own colourman *. Every one had his 
 own secret preparations, which we may 
 naturally suppose would be guarded 
 with some degree of jealousy, a cir- 
 cumstance that is indeed frequently ad- 
 verted to in the lives of the painters -f*. 
 
 # The first colour shop for artists is said to have 
 been established in London by a servant of Sir 
 Godfrey Kneller’s, who had been in the habit of 
 preparing- his master’s colours ; and from that time 
 the business of a colourman has continued to be a 
 regular trade. 
 
 f An anecdote is related of Bassan that offers a 
 remarkable instance of this jealousy. He was the 
 disciple of Bonifazio at Venice, a master who, ac- 
 cording to Ridolfi, was not less tenacious of his 
 “ mystery” than Titian or Tintoret, and carefully 
 withheld it from his pupils. It is recorded, that 
 Bassan discovered the secret of his art hy looking 
 through the key hole of his masters painting room 
 while he was painting. (Vide Pilkington’s Diction- 
 ary.) What he saiv we are not informed, but a strong 
 inference presents itself, that what he so readily dis- 
 
150 
 
 If ever this process comes into general 
 use, the importance of the ground, and 
 the great care and attention that is ne- 
 cessary in preparing it on the principle 
 of those used by the Old Masters, will 
 then be thoroughly understood. All 
 that I have had an opportunity of in- 
 specting, appear to have been invari- 
 ably prepared with some calcareous 
 composition, and as far as my informa- 
 tion goes on the subject, fritz of some 
 sort or another is always found mixed 
 with it, for the purpose, no doubt, of 
 rendering the surface rough and porous . 
 This careful preparation would naturally 
 fall into neglect, from the time that the 
 later masters allowed themselves to paint 
 with an entire surface of oil colour, and 
 
 covered as an object of sight was a difference in the 
 implements of art ; in other w ords, that he saw him 
 apply the colour with crayons instead of a brush. 
 
151 
 
 I believe it will be found that the prac- 
 tice of priming canvass with oil paint 
 has for the last hundred years or more 
 almost universally prevailed. On a 
 ground of this kind the picture is ne- 
 cessarily begun, and finished with a 
 body of oil colour without discrimina- 
 tion of substance. Whether flesh, or 
 drapery, or stone , all are equally hard, 
 opake, and cold, so far at least as these 
 qualities may be regarded as the con- 
 tradistinctions of oil painting. 
 
 The sky and distances, when painted 
 with an opake body of colour, will un- 
 avoidably come too forward. Hence 
 arises a necessity for that overcharged 
 manner in which the figures of the fore- 
 ground are occasionally embodied by 
 modern painters, as the only means of 
 making the more distant parts retire into 
 
152 
 
 true keeping. In large compositions this 
 can scarcely be avoided, but the effect 
 is far from satisfactory, shade being em- 
 bodied with light, the track of the brush 
 perplexes the eye in all directions. It 
 was not so with the Old Masters ; Rem- 
 brandt and many others were in the 
 habit of impasting their pictures with 
 great force, but it was the lights only , 
 and thus they preserved the true rela- 
 tions of light and shade. 
 
 Of late years some improvements have 
 been attempted by introducing the use of 
 dark absorbent grounds, but which do 
 not appear to offer any adequate remedy 
 for the defects of the modern system. 
 The very first touch of oil colour chokes 
 up and saturates the absorbent surface, 
 and a second painting amounts to nothing 
 more than oil colour upon oil colour , 
 
153 
 
 Here lies one of the advantages of a 
 system of dry colouring; not only the 
 absorbent quality of the ground will be 
 preserved, but the whole body of colour 
 will be as absorbent as the ground itself 
 till the last finishing ; and the effect will 
 be what I have already described, as if 
 the picture had been done at once. 
 
 Among other advantages may be added 
 one of inestimable value to the historic 
 painter, namely, the preservation of his 
 first thought, and conception of charac- 
 ter in the original sketch. If it should 
 be doubted how far the great style is 
 dependent on the excellence of process, 
 I would urge this in proof; — the fine 
 freedom of outline it secures, and with it 
 that greatness of manner that arises from 
 well designed contours. 
 
154 
 
 Regarding colouring as a separate 
 end, and as such one of the lowest at- 
 tainments of the art, has led to many 
 erroneous opinions on the subject. Some 
 even profess a sort of contemptuous dis- 
 regard of all that comes under the de- 
 scription of the mechanical part of the 
 art, as unworthy their attention. Its 
 real value and importance however is 
 relative ; and as the means by which the 
 higher objects of art are attained, it can 
 never be a matter of indifference to the 
 man of true genius, who is not the mere 
 copyist of individual nature, but the 
 transmitter of ideas pre-existing in his 
 mind. If here he has mechanical dif- 
 ficulties to contend with ; a slow unim- 
 passioned process to pursue ; the imagi- 
 nation chills in the interval, the first 
 powerful impression is lost, and he pro- 
 
155 
 
 ceeds on the faint traces that are left on 
 his memory. The most powerful genius 
 will be enfeebled by a process of this 
 nature. 
 
 The art of painting should be re- 
 garded comprehensively. The mechanic 
 and ideal as inseparably allied. A true 
 imitation of nature in all her variety is 
 its genuine object, whether in the sim- 
 plicity of rural life, or aggrandised by 
 the beautiful and sublime, good taste 
 and feeling will ever recognize with de- 
 light her genuine features. That the 
 glow and harmony of colours is inti- 
 mately allied with our ideas of beauty, 
 few can hesitate to confess, after con- 
 templating the superb colouring of a 
 fine sun set. There are few objects 
 that would not be rendered more beau- 
 
156 
 
 tiful or picturesque, when tinged with 
 the lustre of its rays. 
 
 But with reference to art, it is not 
 the mere brilliancy of local tints that 
 charms us in a well coloured picture, 
 but the fine harmony that pervades the 
 whole, and which is in fact essential 
 to the pleasure we derive from all arti- 
 ficial combinations. 
 
 Harmony, as far as mechanism is con- 
 cerned, appears to me to arise princi- 
 pally from a right management of the 
 light and shade; and with respect to 
 colouring, less on the choice and ar- 
 rangement of the colours, than on their 
 transparency and porosity of texture. 
 
 Opposed to this is opacity of surface. 
 
157 
 
 which shocks the eye as a discord does 
 the ear ; and so repugnant is it to the 
 sense, that I do not conceive it possible 
 for a picture to please, let the ideas be 
 ever so noble, if the eye is shocked and 
 disturbed by crudeness and opacity. 
 
■ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
ON THE MORAL CAUSES THAT INFLUENCED THE 
 ARTS IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 But though I conceive certain me- 
 chanical facilities to be essential to a 
 free expression of the ideas, and that 
 the Old Masters did possess some advan- 
 tages of this nature over the moderns, 
 to which I have been led to ascribe, in a 
 great degree, their comparative excel- 
 lence, I would not be understood to have 
 overlooked the operation of moral causes 
 on the genius of the age. The progress 
 of society is marked by particular pe- 
 riods, more or less favourable to a suc- 
 cessful cultivation of the arts : this was 
 most propitious. 
 
160 
 
 The revival of letters in the fourteenth 
 century had given a powerful impulse to 
 the different nations of Europe, and was 
 accompanied by circumstances singularly 
 calculated to produce that high order of 
 genius which adorned the period that 
 succeeded. The ordinary approaches 
 to knowledge are slow and laborious, 
 but the stream of intelligence rushed 
 upon the mind with a suddenness that 
 at once roused into action its long slum- 
 bering faculties. The age was as it 
 were new born. The freshness of na- 
 ture yet bloomed upon the earth. The 
 mind of man was yet unsated by know- 
 ledge, it possessed the health and vigour 
 of youth, its lively perceptions and ac- 
 tive powers; its native energies were 
 not broken down into dull uniformity 
 by servile imitation. Curiosity and in- 
 vention coursed in untrodden paths, and 
 
161 
 
 ranged at large, unfettered by rule, over 
 the wide field of science and art. 
 
 With this freshness of the imagina- 
 tion and feelings, was the art of painting 
 first revived by Cimabue, a native of 
 Florence, at the close of the thirteenth 
 century. The liveliness of new impressions 
 are strikingly exemplified by the enthu- 
 siasm with which the Florentines hailed 
 the first dawnings of art in their country- 
 man. A picture of the Virgin, which 
 he had painted for the church dedicated 
 to her at Florence, excited such enthu- 
 siastic delight in his fellow-citizens, that 
 they treated the painter with almost di- 
 vine honours. The picture was carried 
 in procession, accompanied by triumphal 
 music, from the house of the painter to 
 the church. The day was celebrated as 
 a public festival, and the street through 
 
 M 
 
162 
 
 which the picture passed was named, as 
 it is to this day, II Borgo Allegri *. 
 
 Cimabue had several scholars, among 
 whom the most celebrated was Giotto. 
 He was a shepherd’s boy, and while 
 tending his flocks was observed by Cima- 
 bue sketching the figures of his sheep on 
 a stone. Struck with what he saw he 
 immediately invited him to become his 
 pupil; and Giotto now fully shares the 
 fame of his master, as one of the early 
 revivers of art. 
 
 The rudest imitations of nature are, 
 however, all that can be looked for from 
 the art in its first infancy, nor does it 
 appear to have advanced much beyond 
 these limits until the latter end of the 
 fifteenth century, when the restoration of 
 
 * Vide Anecdotes of Painters. 
 
163 
 
 the remains of ancient sculpture so long 
 lost to the world gave to the painter 
 that standard of beauty and grandeur 
 which led him on to its higher attain- 
 ments. 
 
 For several succeeding ages the trea- 
 sures of ancient Rome had laid buried 
 under the ruins of its former grandeur. It 
 is said, that of the innumerable works of 
 art, which till the times of the later em- 
 perors had decorated the palaces and vil- 
 las of the Roman nobility, scarcely a spe- 
 cimen or a vestige was in the beginning 
 of the fifteenth century to be found. But 
 the curiosity and interest that had been 
 excited by the discovery of ancient manu- 
 scripts, was soon after extended to every 
 relic of antiquity in marble, gems, and 
 other durable materials that had survived 
 the desolation of the middle ages, and 
 m 2 
 
164 
 
 was followed by similar results ; for white 
 the writings of the ancient authors re- 
 fined the taste, and exalted the imagina- 
 tion of the poet and the scholar, the re- 
 mains of ancient sculpture in like man- 
 ner awakened the genius of the artist, 
 and were regarded not only with delight 
 and admiration, but as instructors and 
 models*. To facilitate the progress of 
 
 * Among the discoveries of this period were the 
 Laocoon, the Apollo, the Torso, and, I believe, the 
 Venus de Medicis. 
 
 The groupe of the Laocoon was discovered in the 
 pontificate of Julius II. in the ruins of the baths of 
 Titus, where most probably it stood in the time of 
 Pliny, who has described it to be there in the reign 
 of that emperor. The encouragement afforded to 
 those who devoted themselves to these researches 
 gave new vigour to their exertions. The discovery 
 of a genuine specimen of antiquity secured to the 
 fortunate possessor a competency for life, and the 
 acquisition of a fine statue was almost equivalent to 
 a bishoprick. See Duppa’s Life of Michael Angelo. 
 
 The Apollo of Belvidere was found about the 
 end of the 15th century on the sea shore, twelve 
 leagues from Rome, among the ruins of Antium, 
 
m 
 
 these studies, collections were formed in 
 all the principal cities of Italy, and 
 thrown open to the artists. It was then 
 that painting rose to its higher objects — 
 character and expression, and began to 
 address the passions and to interest the 
 feelings of mankind *. 
 
 The sixteenth century now opened 
 with a splendour, that fills the mind 
 with astonishment. The arts rising 
 from the ashes of ancient Rome, and 
 nursed in the genial climate of Italy, 
 advanced at once to full maturity and 
 vigour. Protected and ennobled by the 
 
 Julius II. then only cardinal, purchased it, and im- 
 mediately placed it in the palace he then inhabited ; 
 afterwards on his being made Pope, it was removed 
 to the Vatican. The Torso also was found in the 
 pontificate of Julius, and placed by him in the Va- 
 tican. 
 
 # See Roscoe’s Life of Lorenzo de Medici. 
 
166 
 
 magnificence of its pontiffs, and inti- 
 mately associated with the mysteries of 
 a religion, whose empire over the imagi- 
 nation is maintained by the grandeur 
 and sublimity of external objects, the 
 works of this period are characterised 
 by a greatness of manner, for which 
 perhaps we may vainly look under cir- 
 cumstances less auspicious. 
 
 Among the benefactors of the arts, 
 none have a better claim to the grati- 
 tude of posterity than Pope Julius II. 
 and his successor, Leo X. ; but for them 
 the stupendous powers of Raffaelle and 
 Michael Angelo had, perhaps, never been 
 fully developed. The character ot Julius 
 in a remarkable manner assimilated with 
 the genius of Michael Angelo,— grand, 
 daring, and impetuous ; they appear to 
 
167 
 
 have had a sort of instinctive attraction 
 to each other, from which sprung the 
 gigantic conceptions of the Sistine 
 chapel. The treasures that flowed into 
 the coffers of Pope Leo, from the sale 
 of indulgencies, were freely expended in 
 adorning with the choicest works of art 
 the sanctuaries and palaces of the Holy 
 See. Under his pontificate the church 
 of Rome shone with a blaze of magnifi- 
 cence that blinded by its splendour. 
 
 And here we may be allowed to re- 
 gret, as one of the consequences of 
 these abuses, that severity of opinion in 
 the early reformers, which in their hos- 
 tility to the errors of the church of 
 Rome, led them to reject the natural 
 alliance of the grand and beautiful with 
 devotional feeling. There is an appear- 
 
168 
 
 ance of frugality, not to say parsimony, 
 in some of our Protestant churches, that 
 ill accords with those solemn impressions ; 
 that religious awe which ought ever to in- 
 fluence the heart in the performance of a 
 religious rite *. 
 
 * The magnificence of the Catholic worship, and 
 the feelings it excites, are beautifully described by 
 Madame de Stael, in Corinne. “ Ces tableaux ou 
 les saints a genoux expriment dans leurs regards 
 une priere continuelle ; ces statues placees sur les 
 tombeaux comme pour se reveiller un jour avec 
 les morts, ces Eglises et leurs voutes immenses ont 
 un rapport intime avec les idees religieuses,* J’aime 
 cet hommage eclatant rendu par les hommes k ce 
 qui ne leur promet ni la fortune, ni la puissence ; a 
 ce qui ne les punit ou ne les recompence, que par 
 un sentiment du coeur. “ J’aime cette prodigalite 
 des richesses, terrestres pour une autre vie, du temps 
 pour l’eternite ! Assez de choses se font pour de- 
 main; assez de soins se prennent pour 1’economie 
 des affaires humaines. O ! que J’aime l’inutile ! 
 1’inutile si l’existence n’est quun travail penible pour 
 un miserable gain. Mais si nous sommes sur cette 
 terre en marche vers le ceil qu y a’-t-il de mieux 
 
169 
 
 The spirit of Catholicism has always 
 closely allied itself with those sympa- 
 thies from which originate the faculty 
 of taste ; and co-operating with the tem- 
 perament of Italian character, as it is 
 influenced by climate, raised the standard 
 of taste to its highest elevation. This, 
 in fact, appears to be the real influence 
 of climate on the arts ; not as it creates 
 the powers of genius, but as it gives 
 the stirring impulse in the constitutional 
 susceptibilities it bestows. The pleasures 
 derived from the arts of music, painting, 
 and sculpture, are among what may be 
 called the necessary luxuries of an 
 Italian ; and the enthusiasm with which 
 
 a faire que delever assez notre ame pour quelle 
 semble l’infini l’invisible et l’eternel au milieu de 
 toutes, les bornes qui l’entourent!’ — Corinne, p. 169, 
 vol. ii. 
 
170 
 
 these arts are cherished, is the highest 
 incentive to genius. The standard of 
 taste will ever act on the mind of the 
 artist, and exalt or subdue it to the tone 
 of general feeling. The great style in 
 painting demands the animating con- 
 sciousness of kindred perceptions. 
 
 Not only this, but a certain dignity of 
 character almost invariably blends itself 
 with the higher faculties of the mind. 
 Could it be endured that the proud in- 
 dependence of Michael Angelo should 
 bend to the humiliations of patronage ! 
 He lived in better times, and the loftiness 
 of his genius had its proper aliment. 
 
 The high courtesies of chivalry yet 
 survived the decay of its early institu- 
 tions, and its generous loyalties included 
 
m 
 
 in its worship all that was pre-eminent 
 in human attainments. The different 
 governments of Europe were ruled by 
 princes, deeply imbued with a love of the 
 arts, who in the heroic spirit of the age 
 vied with a generous rivalry in the dis- 
 tinctions they lavished on the great mas- 
 ters of this favoured period. Unlike the 
 depressing patronage of modern times, 
 it was the sympathetic offering of noble 
 minds to a grandeur of spirit congenial 
 with their own. 
 
 “ But the age of chivalry is gone !” 
 From the splendid and heroic, we must 
 turn to the sober rationalities of English 
 character, and the subduing influence of 
 modern society. Can the revival of art 
 be looked for, even were its mechanism 
 fully regained, is a question I meet with 
 a mixture of hope and apprehension. 
 
172 
 
 The former however prevails ; and to 
 excite it in others I will here extract 
 some passages from Richardson’s cele- 
 lebrated Essay on Painting, which under 
 my present impressions seem to have the 
 authority of prophecy. 
 
 “ I have said it heretofore, and will 
 venture to repeat it : if ever the great 
 style in painting, if ever that delightful, 
 useful, and noble art does revive in the 
 world, it is probable it will be in Eng- 
 land. 
 
 “ Thus a thing as yet unheard of may 
 come to be eminent in the world, I mean 
 the English school of painting ; and 
 whenever this happens who knows to 
 what heights it may rise, for the English 
 nation is not accustomed to do things by 
 halves. 
 
173 
 
 “ In ancient times we have been fre- 
 quently subdued by foreigners. The 
 Romans, Saxons, Danes, and Normans 
 have all done it in their turns. Those 
 days are at an end, and we are by vari- 
 ous steps arrived at the height of mili- 
 tary glory by sea and land ; nor are we 
 less eminent for learning, philosophy, 
 mathematics, poetry, strong and clear 
 reasoning, and a greatness and delicacy 
 of taste. 
 
 “ Let us put forth our strength and 
 employ our national virtue, that haughty 
 impatience of inferiority which seems to 
 be the characteristic of our nation, on 
 this as on many other illustrious occa- 
 sions, and the thing will be done. — 
 The English School will rise and 
 
 flourish !” 
 
174 
 
 It is now fourteen years since tiie 
 drop of wax fell on the crayon draw- 
 ing . If this little incident shall have 
 laid the foundation for the accomplish- 
 ment of this prediction, it may hereafter 
 be recorded in the chapter of accidents 
 as one of the most memorable in our 
 national history. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Priated by R. Gilbert, St. John’s-square, London. 
 

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